#walking backwards into hell staring god into the eyes

[justanothervaultie]

🔥HotGhoulSummer🔥

@ghouly-boiiiii found it ✨

[actiniumwrites]

BLURRED LINES

synopsis: the defining moment that changed the course of your relationship with them from being enemies to that of lovers

characters: kaeya, yelan, scaramouche, ayato, cyno, dottore, and alhaitham x gn!reader (separately)

warnings: enemies to lovers, angst, fluff, injuries, blood, fighting, harassment (not from any of them), not proofread

notes: idk man i just wanted to write some enemies to lovers scenarios. each of these get longer as they go, so uh, sorry if you wanted some of the first ones to be longer cause i don’t really know what happened 😭 enjoy <3

Kaeya watched how you laughed so loudly, so confidently at him as you fought somewhere behind him. It was as loud and recognizable as usual. He felt his heart beat faster — flushed, annoyed, and fed up with your constant need to one up him, laugh at him for no reason, and point out each and every small mistake he makes. As the Cavalry Captain racked his brain for a comeback, anything to take you off your high horse, his ears began to hurt as your laughter faded into that of dreadful screams. Blue eyes caught yours in an instant, turned so fast that his body almost gave him whiplash. No. He couldn’t lose you. Not like this. Not when he hadn’t realized his hatred for you was nothing more than a guise for his buried love.

Yelan’s faint laughs scared the people on the harbor. Such an intimidating women, softly — yet arrogantly — laughing to herself was certainly an odd sight to see. She had bested you once again, and you hadn’t even known it yet. And Archons she couldn’t wait to see the look on your face when you realized it. Her laughter quickly subsided at the faint sounds of desperation and begging, coming from somewhere within a nearby alleyway. Nearly walking past it out of the need to be in other places, Yelan stopped in her trail when the whimpering cries turned into your voice. Fury festered throughout her body in an instant. Nobody was allowed to mess with you, not unless it was her. Maybe she hadn’t realized it yet, but she would do anything to protect you — even if it meant giving her life.

When Scaramouche fell limp out of the robot, falling from great heights as he plummeted to the ground, he held no beliefs he would be caught — no less by the hands of you, his sworn enemy. Yet, there you were, arms wrapped tightly around him as the traveler and Paimon stared at you in shock. Something about the way your heart felt the moment you saw him fall was deeply painful, like weeds growing around your heart. Though, the strong heat from your love was enough to burn those weeds, enough to propel yourself forward without thought and save the man you had unknowingly come to love. And as Nahida watched the scene play out in front of her, a knowing smile crossed her face.

Ayato loved nothing more than to argue and debate with you. It came as a package deal alongside the fact that you were from the Tenryou Commission and he was from the Yashiro commission. Because god you were so smart and always had the perfect comebacks, even though it was infuriating when you would win. What he didn’t like, however, was when he would watch you argue with someone else. Especially when you lost to them. Ironic, right? He hated watching his enemy lose? So when his eyes spotted you around the corner of Ritou, backed up against a wall as a rude man berated you, his eyes filled with fury and his heart was racing. No one was allowed to treat you like that. So he took care of them for you, even though he knew you were fully capable. And as you stormed away from him, he was left with a single question: if you were supposed to be his enemy, then why the hell did he care so much about you?

The moment Cyno saw you fall backwards, he scoffed. Honestly, when were you actually going to beat him while sparring? But then you didn’t get up. Cyno swore he felt his heart fall out of his chest. And oh archons, the moment he saw blood, the weapon fell out of his hand and his feet propelled him forward. His knees scraped against the rugged bricks of the floor as his arms wrapped themselves around your torso and hoisted it against him. But then your eyes opened and the laugh he always thought was so beautiful fell from your lips. Stopping when your eyes met his serious expression, you joked, “What? Don’t tell me you were actually worried about me?” Cyno’s eyes pierced through yours, a serious, yet genuine, expression painted across his face, “Don’t scare me like that, it’s not funny…I thought I lost you for a second.”

Dottore felt annoyed the moment he heard you knock on the door. So he ignored it, knowing only you would be stupid enough to get hurt and go to him at such late hours of the night. You could’ve seen another doctor, but he knew you loved to annoy him more than anything else. But then the knocks came again, weaker and more fragile this time. Sighing, he opened his door, only to find you. Your eyes were kept on the floor, but he could see the tears that pooled in them. Blood adorned most of your body, and your clothes were all tattered and torn. The arm that was holding you up against the door gave out and you collapsed, but not before Dottore caught you in his arms. You were mumbling, shaking, and absolutely terrified as you leaned against him. And yet, for some reason, Dottore couldn’t help but feel a small feeling of warmth spreading in his cold heart at the thought of you coming to him when you were most vulnerable. Though, it wasn’t enough to stop the anger he felt for the person that hurt you.

Alhaitham sighed for what felt like the thousandth time that day as he spotted you in the library late at night. Shouldn’t you have already gone home? Or were you just trying to get ahead him again? Perhaps aiming to steal his position at the Akademiya this time? He never knew with you, but at least the competition kept things a little more entertaining each day. So, he made another sarcastic comment toward you on his way out. He couldn’t see your face from the way you were sitting, but your silence stopped him in his tracks. No rebuttal? No comeback? Not even an annoyed sigh? And then your shoulders started to shake, and small whimpers fell from your lips. Shit. Alhaitham didn’t know what to do in situations like this. But even so, he stopped and walked toward you. Sat down next to you and stayed quiet, only offering a few tissues and some water he had on him — which you hesitantly, but gratefully took. Maybe you were his “enemy” and maybe he didn’t know how to deal with people crying, but for some reason it felt natural with you and he sure as hell wasn’t going to leave you alone.

[emphistic]

Knight in Drenched Armor

You cannot see. You cannot breathe. You cannot hear.

Wind whipped your hair around mercilessly and pushed your hood down every time you tried to pull it back up.

Sukuna and you had decided to take a walk, while it was still only slightly sprinkling, for God knows why. The weather app had told you there would be a 20% chance for a storm, but you both ignored it. I mean, how bad could it possibly be? —

— Very bad. Very bad. That 20% chance of rain turned into literal hail. According to your [pseudo] degree in meteorology, this was a literal tsunami.

"Oh my God, Oh my God! Hold me down! 'Kuna hold me downnnn!" You scream, tightening your already white-knuckled grip on Sukuna's coat sleeve.

"So dramatic, woman." Sukuna rolls his eyes, still not obliging, but — nonetheless — appreciating the way you were practically attached to his arm.

"Sukuna — I swear to God! I told you to buy a good, useful umbrella . . . not this cheap ass one," you rant as you continue to struggle to keep the umbrella open. A) it was folded the wrong way. B) it was opening the wrong way. And C) it wasn't even able to stay open and withstand the wind.

You turned to Sukuna, "How can you be so calm? Are you not freezing to death? How are you not soaked when this lame excuse for an umbrella isn't even working? The rain is literally smudging all my hard work, my mascaraaaa," you whined, pointing [with your free hand] at your stained cheek. "That stupid rodent better count its days. When I catch that fucking groundhog, it's over."

Your teeth chatter profusely as your knees knock against each other and your legs sway. You are finally able to keep the umbrella open when, out of the blue, a gust of wind launches you backwards. Time seems to slow down as you lose hold of your boyfriend and are catapulted right onto your ass.

Umbrella was long forgotten, as it was probably flying around somewhere and consequently ran over by a car.

Sukuna looks down at his sleeve, wondering where your hand went, and notices your lack of presence.

"The fuck?"

He looks at his palm confused, before turning his head in all directions, until he spots your figure curled up in a ball on the street. Your puffer jacket blowing in the wind.

You shiver from your spot on the ground — and decide to give up on life.

"What the hell? — Y/N!" Sukuna yells your name, avoiding all the weird stares he gets from passersby, while trying to get you to stand back up.

"Just go, it's too late for me. The groundhog has won," You moan, wrapping your arms around your torso.

Sukuna scoffs, moving towards you. But every time the pink-haired man gets closer, more gusts of wind blow you farther and farther away from him. To the point Sukuna just decides to leave you and go home alone.

Just kidding.

-

Miraculously, the both of you make it back to the apartment. Soaked, freezing, and half-dead, but still managed to get back home, yes.

You guys spent the rest of the night bathing each other and blowdrying each other's hair.

It's safe to say, Sukuna will never ask you to accompany him on a walk ever again — not wanting to risk another incident and disaster of you flying away.

Taglist: @starlets-things @sad-darksoul @mochimoee @r0ckst4rjk @lillycore @deepchromatose @yinyinyinyinyinyin

[yandere-kokeshi]

Hi! I hope you're having a nice day

I'm just wondering if you can make a yandere ghost or price with a s/o who has a other boyfriend fic?

Thanks<3

(if you don't have time for this, it's okay)

— Such Waste

Warnings: Yandere behavior, stalking, suggested age gap, swearing, talks about reader who grew up in an abusive family; current-bf is abusive/has an unhealthy relationship; reader is slightly naive, violence, and detailed blood..

A/N: this one was pretty hard for me to finish so sorry if it's dull or simply not well; I'm not very happy with it lmao. Enjoy! :]

Inserting the key into the door with a small click!, and opening it to your usually, scattered apartment, you sighed — heavily. 

Today was grueling. Not only was your work office incredibly demanding, but it was possibly draining what was left of your very soul. Your bones and stiff muscles were hurting. Begging for you to get more sleep than having 2 – 4 hours of naps every day.

You took off your shoes by the front door and put your belongings on the table; re-footing your steps backwards, to put your keys on the bookshelf for remembrance. Though, you were rudely interrupted as your phone buzzed multiple times, and you let out yet another sigh. 

In your bones, you had a feeling — an immediate feeling of who it was.

Grabbing your phone in the back pocket, you whisked it out and typed in your passcode before seeing multiple, if not, tons of missed calls and text messages from your current boyfriend.  

Liam: Are you srsly ignoring me? It was a joke. — sent at 8:23 pm

Liam: baby, come on. You passed your break. Just answer me. — sent at 8:57 pm

Liam: answer the fucking phone! Are you dumb? Pick up the phone!!!! — sent at 9:21 pm

Liam: if you don’t answer, it's over. — sent at 11:48

You rolled your eyes, feeling anger rise in you again. You chose to send a small message. Who would’ve thought the blue-eyed, blond hair and a tooth gap combo of a man would be the best fit? Not you, apparently. 

You: Got caught up with work. Sorry, we can talk more about this tomorrow. I’m gonna head to bed. Night.  — sent at 12:19 pm

While Liam was a nice guy, he was slightly controlling and immature. Always wanted to know who or where you were, why you were hanging out with people he didn’t know, and if you loved getting unwanted attention. Sometimes, fights got so bad that your elderly neighbors had to call the police to separate the two of you for a few nights. 

Poor Lucy. Wonder how she still deals with you being next door.

Groaning, you put your phone back into your back pocket, before your hands rubbing over your face in exhaustion. 

Not only was your boss extremely cranky and rude today, but everyone was on edge due to his behavior. You couldn’t even talk to your coworkers without them using the excuse of ‘I have to leave’ whenever he steps foot into the room. Plus, the stress of bills, your current boyfriend, and the harassment was getting to your breaking point. 

God, you hated this job. But it paid your bills. That’s all you cared about, right?

You scoffed, feeling your back prick and pop in places that sounded like it shouldn’t. Looking at the fridge in your kitchen, you slumped over and walked over to it, talking to yourself as you opened it, reaching down for the leftover pizza box that you didn’t get to finish last night.

Barely eating a few pieces, you were already heading down the hallway to your bedroom, peeling off your sweaty work clothes. However, something stopped you in the tracks that made your heart jump right out of your chest and into your mouth. 

Roses. Roses were on your bed. Sure, it was beautiful. The lilac, reddening color shining in your room was gorgeous. 

But who put them there?

You stared at them. Who the hell was in your apartment? Was it maintenance? Maybe a surprise gift they gave out for people living here in the poor-run down apartments?

No. It couldn’t be. Rarely do they ever give you things — especially flowers. What and who the fuck?

“Do you not like them?” 

You jumped at the sudden rough voice, dropping your pizza on the floor and whipping around, seeing a giant man sitting in your favorite chair in the corner of your bedroom; wearing a thick, menacing skull balaclava, piercing your skin like a knife. 

“Who… the fuck are you!” you shouted. Your feet stepped back, watching him as he repositioned himself — his elbows now resting on the armrests of the chair, and leaning forward into the obvious comfy chair. You couldn’t help but judge the guy. Who wears a skull mask other than on Halloween? Was he a killer? Going to slice you—!

“I would think you’d know that with the stuff I gave you.” 

A chill ran down your spine. So was this — no, this was the guy. 

The man who left your favorite chocolate on your window seal each morning, the sweet notes of compliments, sometimes bearing suggestions on things you should wear that day. And the huge bouquet on the front door, which was soon transported to your dinner-table, that was left every Friday.

Oh, my g-d.

“Holy shit,” you gasped, finally looking at his outfit, seeing the Britain flag sewed on his Khaki pants. It’s military. What the fuck did you do? “Did I break the law?” you hushed out, terrified at the man.

However, the man in front of you snickered. “Doubt you’d have the guts to break the law, sweetheart.” 

“I– what?” you looked at him dumbfounded. Who the fuck was this guy? 

“Ya’ heard me, only have a speeding ticket,” he remarked, making you dart your eyes toward behind you to the hallway, seeing the front door before back at him. “Pretty impressive for your age, if ya’ ask me.”

Your brain short-circuited. “How… do you know that?” you posed, feeling your breathing quicken. “I have so many questions,” you added. But yet, the man stared at you with his darkening eyes. Didn’t help that your room was dimmed. You really should’ve fixed that light. 

He stared at you before speaking up. “Bet ya’ do. I’m all answering them as long as you get rid of that cunt of a boyfriend.” 

“E… ‘cuse me?” you stammered, taking another step back. But, your anger got ahead of you; your eyebrows knitted against each other. “I can assure you that he treats me well.”

Though, the man just scoffed and stood up as your throat closed at the sight of the man. Why the fuck was he so tall? “Sure. Keep imagining that sick fantasy image of yours, and you’ll wake up in the hospital with a broken nose.”

You wanted to defend yourself. But he was right. Breaking your index finger hurts like a bitch. The frequent fights were exhausting. The last time you tried talking with Liam about visiting a close friend an hour away ended up with his hand reaching out towards your wrist, twisting it with a large sprain and a large hospital bill. 

The yelling. The self-blame. The hours of constant harassment with texts and calls. The horrible smell of booze. You really fucked up your love life, didn’t you? 

“But,” he started, a thick accent voicing in as he stepped closer into your direction. “I can treat you better, love. Someone who won’t hurt ya. Treat you like the doll you are.”

You narrow your eyes at him, nervously biting at the inside of your cheeks as you wait for him to continue. 

“I’ll make sure to treat you well. Something you haven’t been lucky to feel. Your parents were mean towards you, no?” he asked questionably, and it made your heart drop to your stomach. “But, I can take care of you; better than anyone has.” 

So many questions raced through your mind as your eyes darted at the floor then back toward the man. Like a rabbit, you stiffened. Confused. Body shaking as the predator approached. 

“I don’t… even know who you are,” you replied, tightening your hand into a fist. Your heart was speeding, hands and legs shaking with fear. Your throat stiffened. He could clearly see it — and yet somehow, his eyes got softer; those brown pupils having a sad and apologetic look. Almost like a dog trying to comfort you. 

You don’t know you’re crying until you feel a gloved thumb wipe them away, causing you to flinch. Realizing that the man was now in front of you, you tried to step back, but your ankle hit the bedroom wall, securing you in a close habitat. 

But, with everything going on, you didn’t have the energy to push him away nor look up at him. Continuing to look at the floor as your mind circled around on whom the fuck was this man? 

“Look at me, will ya’?”

You hesitated. Didn’t reply. But as he said your name, a shiver traveled down your spine, and you looked at him – his predominant features coming in. Even with your anxiety and fear swirling in your stomach, you looked at the creases in his eyebrows, the clashing scars near his temple, eyes, and brows. His jarring eyes surrounded by black eyeshadow, seemingly gentler, almost like they were trying to welcome you into a trap. 

You stare up at him with half-lidded eyes. And with a gasp, you felt his hand take your chin, his palm almost eclipsing the lower half of your face, and turn your head right into the direction he wanted you to: staring at him in the eyes.

“I promise. I’m not going to hurt you,” he reassures, though, it doesn’t help as more tears drowned down on your behalf. 

And yet, you couldn’t fathom his words. 

“I don’t–” you started, taking a deep and sharp inhale, “–trust you, I don’t even know your name. How can I know you’re… not some, serial killer?” your question was weak. And stupid. But it was the only thing you could think of out of the bluster. 

His eyes narrowed at your reply before answering at your ‘plea’. 

“I suppose that’s a start,” he huffs.

You looked at his eyes, before narrowing down at the mask. And clearly, by your eyes and non-answer, he nodded at your invisible ask. 

Stepping back, the man’s hands traveled to lift the mask upwards. He revealed the point of his chin, the skin equally rough, like his demeanor. 

He didn’t stop from continuing, exposing more of his lower lip. The skin there was rugged and scarred, little creases in the flesh. Scars that made your heart thud awkwardly. At his cupid’s bow, where you saw a huge scar, it made you gasp quietly out of wincing. The thick mark going upward on his left lip, so callused and rough. It looks like it still hurts.

Finally, he pulled the mask fully off, revealing his natural-resting face, thick eyebrows, and the two large scars right above his filled brows. It helped a bit that he revealed himself, but you were still unsure how to… understand the situation.

He said your name, and it made you look at him. “Rest your worries when you’re by me, yeah?”

Those words fell into your stomach and twisted like a towel being squeezed. Though, somehow, in a way, you felt safer. A hesitant silence settles between you both, before you decide to speak up.

“Y–ou won’t hurt me?”  

Those stunning brown eyes take a moment to gaze into yours, searching something deeper in your meaning. Instead, all you could muster was eye contact that kept flickering to the floor and trying to calm your quickened breathing.

“What kind of man would I be if I did that, hm?” his voice is airy, tone-flimsy when asking his question. 

You swallowed thickly, “I want to know your name.”

“You do know my name, sweetheart,’” he coldly corrected you, “—use that smart brain of yours.”

Seconds blurred by you, trying to think – imagine what could or would be his name. But nothing came up. Nothing came to your brain, which, the man in front of you, hummed in acknowledgment at the state of your confused state. 

“Shame you don’t remember,” he started, a smirk curling on his face. “It’s Simon.”

Memories you didn’t know at the time came forward. 

Many things are given by that name — your favorite fast food being delivered to your home after a bad day, bouquets in expensive vases being delivered every week; cards given with clothes and money. And somehow, your insurance was now covering things they didn’t. 

Oh, and let’s not forget about the lingerie being sent. A note of: I hope to see you wear this tonight. Signed with initials: SR. 

At first, you thought it was Liam – but he was a cheapskate. Never liked spending money, especially on you. 

Your eyes widened, a bubble trapping itself in your throat — it was him. Police didn’t help, saying something along the lines of, ‘until they hurt you, we can’t do anything’. But when did they ever help? 

“So… what do you want, then?” you whisper, suddenly breathless with this proximity. You can see the gold-brown of his eyes clearly, the halo of honey flecks that cover the circumference of his pupil. His eyelashes flutter when he blinks, so pretty and… oddly feminine. 

“You.”

And just as he rasped that word, the banging on your front door started. The familiar yelling of Liam drowned out your thoughts, and his screaming made the two of you snap your head in the direction of the front door. 

He yelled out your name, and you flinched. Already feeling the bruising grabs, the constant screaming where your ears ring for hours. Oh god, what the hell did you do? 

“You– need to leave,” you ushered out, hands and legs shaking for the splinting images that shot through your head. 

He was banging on the door, jamming his fists; the handle being shaken so hard that it rattled stuck. It was all too much. 

Simon said your name, but you shook your head. Denying his existence. Danger was near, nobody would help save you. He needs to leave, he needs to leave, heneedstoleave—!

He grunted your name louder, and you looked at him with teary eyes; the small rivers turning into full tsunami’s. You couldn’t think. Breathe. He was here. Going to hurt you. He was going to die. So were you.

The door broke, the familiar thundering footsteps shook from across the house. And before you could react, Simon pushed you behind him — shielding you away from your abuser.  

“You—!” Liam screamed into the bedroom, a bottle of beer in one hand and his other clenched into a fist; his blue eyes burning into your stomach. You choked out a sob as he stepped further, but stopped at the sight of Simon. For once, Liam looked retched at his own thoughts. 

“Who the fuck are you?” he yelled, and the man only narrowed his eyes at Liam; challenging him with his height and quiet demeanor. 

“Get the fuck out.” his rough and dark voice sent shivers down your neck, making every hair stand up.

Liam scoffed, a plethora of curses voiced out, before he shut up. Your eyes narrowed, and as you looked at his shocked face, you saw a gun in view next — Simon’s finger gripping the trigger, aiming it at Liam’s head. 

Your heart leapt out. Fight or flight mode flicking on.

“Come on, man– we, we’re playing. Right—?” he chuckled out, and Simon grunted. 

In the dimmed room, you can see his high cheekbones and the absolute rage that is evident on his face, even hiding behind his mask. His hands are clenched around the gun tightly, finger curling even tighter around the trigger. 

“I’m not going to ask again; leave the fucking apartment.” 

Liam falsely chuckled, “O-or what? You’ll shoot me? Doubt you have the balls, my… guy.”

Within seconds, the gun went off — making you scream, closing your eyes, and covering your ears. Your fingernails scraped at your ears, making them ring. It hurt, not a single thought. Oh god, what the fuck happened? 

“—uck!” was all you could muster before you knelt to the ground, wrapping arms around yourself; teeth clenching down your lips as you felt— tasted blood. 

After a few minutes – or seconds – you open them up and find Liam, leaning on the wall for support, bleeding through his arm. There was so much– on the floor, on his hands. His eyes were widened, looking at the man in front of you; anger yet fear rising. 

He started hiccuping — more blood dripping down to the floor as he clenched his nearly wound. 

“Don’t ever let me see you again.”

Simon’s rough voice of threatening sent shivers down your body. Your breath hitched. Your body starts to shake as your eyes widen. Simon’s threat was enough for Liam to nod instantly, giving you one look before running out; not giving you a second look as it may not leave tonight with his face intact. 

You were about to say something, but the man cleared his throat and looked down at your shaking form. “Ya’ okay?”

You looked up at him, slowly nodding. In return, he said nothing, making you feel his eyes take in every detail of you. To your face and pupils, to your shaking legs and ragged breath. Yet, having never meeting you before, he gladly handed over his hand down to you. 

Looking up at his scarred hand, you hesitantly looked at it — large fingers, nails scratched and clear hangnails. You didn’t know what to do, other than grab it and strand up with his help. 

“Get your things.”

Your eyes narrowed, breath heaving. “Why?”

 He looked at you, brown pupils dilated. They were so feminine– pretty. His breath hitched, and a large hand grasped your shoulder. 

“Cause’ you’re gona’ be coming with me, forever.” 

—

Masterlist || Please consider reblogging and commenting instead of liking, stay well!!

© yandere-kokeshi 2023 — Do not copy, modify, edit, repost, or use my works for ASMR readings, tiktoks, or other content.

[trashogram]

He Chose You (Pt. 12)

Lucifer/Reader: Lucifer chooses you to be the mother of his child. Rated E for Explicit.

(LISTEN… this story has gotten out of control and I need help.)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 13.5 | Part 14 | End

“It’s alright, child.” Sera’s moods swung round like a revolving door. She could change and bend from someone motherly to a raging Force to an uninvolved observer in a millisecond. “You don’t know any better.”

She reach out and placed a hand on your cheek, perfectly warm and loving in her caress while her eyes remained like flint against the loveliest of features. “Everything has come to pass as it should. You’ll understand in time.” 

It made you sick. Your skin grew clammy as an acidic substance shot up your esophagus and your whole body pitched backward to escape.

You would’ve taken hours locked away with that asshole Adam before you stood another minute being condescended to by the Seraphim.

You were sulking, and you knew it, but you couldn’t stop. 

The building that you had been taken into to meet Sera in the first place served as some sort of Capital. It was grandiose and reached so high up that you couldn’t see where the damn ceiling ended. Perhaps it didn’t. 

You had to take great pains to escape it, navigating among high-ranking angels of all kinds filtering from both the ground and air above you in orderly chaos. It quickened your step to notice that a number of them did a double-take at seeing you. 

           They resembled different things, just as the angels outside did, although most of them appeared human-like. You wondered briefly if there was a rhyme or reason to it, or if God chose to make the woman you barely avoided running into resemble a moose because it made Him laugh. 

Once you’d escaped the war room, you had immediately breathed a little easier. Still, you continued on until you physically felt the tiny shocks and electric currents of warning ebb from your skin. It was as if Sera’s essence had stuck to you, her presence clinging to your frame to make a longer impression.

It had your skin tightening, muscles clenching as a chaotic flood of anxiety and fear prevented you from walking solidly. Too many ‘what if’s’ took you in and out of awareness, making you stumble over nothing. 

It had crossed your mind that Emily did not appear before you’d made yourself scarce. A part of you had wondered at that, feeling as though she’d have waited for you out of some concern for your wellbeing. 

Perhaps that was all for show, however. Sera was clearly excellent at appearing benevolent, and Emily had looked toward the Seraphim for guidance in front of you. It stood to reason that Emily could also be two-faced. 

The logic was sound and yet it made you wince, whether from shame at your incorrect judge or character —

‘Or how much she reminds me of Lucifer.’

You imagined Emily looking at you while stripped of any warmth and compassion. She quickly changed, morphing into Lucifer with hollow, unfeeling red eyes. 

It hurt.

—

Panic had you frozen in place a time or two before you’d gained a wide enough berth to stop. 

Beforehand you’d walked clouds so polished and flat you’d swear they were glass, amidst the more general population of Heaven with your arms wrapped around yourself. It felt needed when even those outside the Capital looked at you with interest, as if they knew. 

Maybe they did. Was it against the rules to keep secrets in Heaven? 

“We are literally judges, juries and executioners in Hell.”

“Executioners?” 

“What’re you talking about?” 

The recollection of a seemingly insignificant moment drew you to a halt. You stared at the pristine ground, fists knocking at your sides. The confusion on your face doubled when you looked up. 

Your ‘wide berth’ had led you far away from the crowds of perfectly content angels and their sleek, futuristic buildings. Farther than you’d anticipated, as ahead of you lay a line of trees that thickened into a dense forest. 

Like Earth, Heaven had a variety of terrains — or so it would seem. Child-like curiosity had you crossing the line between airy openness and into the thicket of pines. All varieties of fir, pine, and larch coexisted with one another, bowing and swaying in the wind. There was nothing to be afraid of, but a sense of oddity hung in the air as you walked a perfectly sculpted path. 

The smell of damp earth and lilies rose from the ground at your feet. A warm breeze rustled the hair that hung limply around your face. Birds sung merrily above you, flitting from branch to branch. 

It occurred to you that no matter how deep you traveled into the woods, the sunlight never waned. 

And yet faintly you heard roaring. It was distant but growing louder with every step you took. 

It was not an animal nor man calling out to you from far away. You felt the change as the smell of sap intermingled with that of salt on the wind, and the floor turned from nettles and moss to pale sand. 

You rubbed your eyes as the trees parted and seemed to disappear as they revealed a beautiful, sparkling sea. 

Sun cast off the surface of the ocean, bouncing against a kaleidoscope of multicolored clouds surrounding it. And you had Dejá vu before blinking away the flash of purple and honey in your eyes. 

You watched tiny waves as they fell against the shoreline, seafoam disappearing within moments. It continued, mesmerizing you, as you ambled toward it. When the water finally rushed over your feet, it carried tiny seashells that scuttled around you. And unlike the ocean you were familiar with, this one was a perfect temperature, no acclimation required. 

For the first time since arriving in Heaven, you felt yourself smiling genuinely. 

You gave into the urge to squish the wet sand between your toes and waded into the water up to your ankles. Your worries began to wash away with each pull of the tide, slow and steady. 

Eventually, you meandered away from that singular spot and began to trek parallel to the shore. The sun never got in your eyes nor did the sand get whipped up and blow into your mouth. Everything from the waves to the breeze was gentle. 

As were the eyes that were upon you. 

As soon as you felt that stare, you stopped in your tracks. Just the thought of turning to them was daunting. 

You don’t have to look, but you do. 

There’s a woman with you now, with hair so long and blonde it’s almost white. Her chin, lips, nose, and eyes are delicate and soft.

—

Eve had lingered upon your every step once you’d arrived in her neck of the woods. 

She was glad to see that the effects of the beach it hid were enough to soothe you, even if it was more of a distraction than a cure. You deserved something good, even if it was relatively meager compared to everything you’d endured up to this point. 

Your figure grew smaller as you crossed the sand, away from the first woman’s hiding spot. You were none the wiser, engrossed in the soothing give and take of the water. It made it easier for Eve to creep up the beach only a few paces away, free to follow your path without ruining your tranquility. 

It reminded Eve of a simpler time when she was the one being eyed curiously from afar. 

*** Tag List: @crescent-z, @for-hearthand-home, @undertale-is-sansational, @loslox, @navierkalani, @yaimlight, @ivoryviness, @crystalplays28, @flowerempress, @wally-darling-hyperfixation, @altruisticradiodemon, @moonlight-readings, @halparkebitch, @charliecharlie65, @sockgoblin, @cocomollo, @caniseethefourthsword, @squeegeeclean, @crow-twink, @an-emovision, @marydragneell, @lafy-taffy, @fandom-imagines1, @loquacious-libra, @glowymxxn, @avadakadabra93, @froggybich, @hamthepan, @ukor02, @adaizel, @boogiemansbitch, @vinillies, @lbcreations-blog, @thesoundresoundsecho, @serenity-loves-red, @alientee, @aquaamythest96, @0strawberrysorbet0, @fluffy-koalala, @washeduphazbin, @rebecca-hvnstn, @velvette3, @kermitdafroggy, @wpdarlingpan, @apatcheworkofproblems, @cherry-cola-100, @pink-apples001, @al-of-the-stars, @backinthefkingbuildingagain, @martinys-world, @alastorssimp, @wobblesthewaffle, @shikiribee, @undertale-anomaly20, @asakura-fangirl-stuff, @ringsofpersonti, @angelicwillows, @wingoodlilboymyway, @cimadreamer, @museofzealoushope, @oneiric-rotaerc, @call-me-nyxx, @darling-angel222, @elementwind91, @bloody-delusion-expert, @martinys-world, @devilslittlebabyxx

Forgive me if I forgot to tag you or the tags don’t work, I don’t know what that keeps happening.

[phant0mth1ef]

you wonder why i’m bitter.

-

a loud crash echoed throughout your shared apartment, a vase had hit the floor at an unusual speed, then after the vase came another, then everything that was on his nightstand.

the door latch clicked, the man opening up to find his apartment completely trashed, and all his belongings piled up in a circle in the living room, the noises of things being pushed off the shelves was nearly puncturing his eardrums.

you’d heard the latch click. you knew he was home. and you still refused to let yourself out of the bedroom where you’d locked yourself inside, the man slowly walking around at the destruction you’d created inside your shared living space.

“y/n? what the fuck are ya doin’?!” he pounded on the bedroom door, your tears were dry on your cheeks as you turned your head at the sound.

you’d opened the door, showing him the wreckage of your bedroom.

“you fucking cheated on me, katsuki?!” you pointed an accusatory finger at his chest, causing him to stumble backwards.

“hah?! no i’d never do that, what the hell’s gotten into you?!” this was turning into a screaming match.

“don’t you fucking lie to me! i know everything. you’re a douche. i hate you.”

“y/n, chill out. where’s akari?” he had some nerve to ask about your child as if he’d never done anything wrong.

“with my mom. but that doesn’t matter because you have a whole other kid. is that where you’ve been sneaking off to at night?! god i knew you couldn’t get stuck with night patrol that often. i can’t stand you, katsuki.” his face turned white.

“yeah, i know about the other kid. 12 years, katsuki. we were together for twelve years. and your other kid is 6 years old. you fell outta love that fast?” you angered expression quickly turned to sadness, the tears threatening to spill from your eyes as he just stared at you, mouth open.

“i’m leaving, go fuck yourself.” you took the band off your ring finger, tossing it at his feet as you slammed the apartment door. leaving him stunned in the hallway.

[wileys-russo]

After Mearps' recent tiktok Ima need an Alessia fic about her Turkey Fear please queen

this was painful to write as someone who is ALSO terrified of bush turkeys. based around this tiktok; https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSNXWYK1m/

human shield II a.russo

“-mm they look a bit like massive rabbits.” your girlfriend pondered with a frown as you crouched down on the ground staring at the kangaroos in wonder.

“what! what sort of rabbits did you have growing up in kent less?” mary laughed in disbelief of the blondes take, a small smack heard as alessia lightly hit her.

“they dont have rabbits in kent mary all the chavs would chase them for fun.” you smirked, yelping as your girlfriend kicked at the back of your knees ruining your balance and sending you tumbling onto your ass.

"less!" you scowled up at her as the sudden movements scared away the small family of kangaroos, the four of them hopping away as you stood to your feet and brushed the dirt off of you.

"you're such a child." you huffed making her and mary laugh as you continued to walk away from them. "thats rich coming from you baby." your girlfriend teased, poking your bum lightly with her foot as you shot her a glare over your shoulder.

"the both of you are children." mary scoffed as your girlfriend caught up to you and grabbed your hand, swinging it back and forth and repeatedly kissing your cheek until she gained a smile.

"sorry mother mary!" you poked your tongue out at her, alessia joining in making the goalkeeper roll her eyes and walk off ahead of you two mumbling about how she was sick of babysitting.

"please mary you love us!" alessia teased with a smug smile, still swinging your intertwined hands back and forth. "love is a strong word alessia." the older woman tutted, the three of you chattering on about everyone's plans for the day off tomorrow.

"what the hell is that!" your conversation stopped as a strange bird appeared from the bushes and alessia suddenly stopped, her grip on your hand tightening. "oh my god its ugly." you added on, both of you frozen on the spot.

"its a turkey! get over it." mary laughed, throwing her head back at the obvious fear written on both your faces. "here birdy birdy!" mary cooed clicking her fingers. "mary don't call it over!" you hissed, trying to run away as alessia held on tightly to your hand.

"babe!" you gasped in disbelief as she suddenly grabbed you in a tight bear hug, holding your back to her front using you effectively as a human shield.

"lessi let go!" you whined, twisting around and pushing your head into her chest trying to shove her backwards as she screamed and the bird moved toward the two of you.

"you get in front you're taller!" you ordered with a grunt, trying to wrench her hands off of you as she continued to try and push you forwards toward the turkey who loomed closer and closer.

"you get in front you're older!" the blonde retorted back as you managed to duck behind her, your hands on her waist trying to keep it that way. "by nine days!" you scoffed, yelping as she managed to once again grab you and hold you in front.

"less you're supposed to protect me not use me as a human shield!" you squirmed as her fingers dug into your hips still holding your back to her front.

"oh my god its charging at us baby kick it or something!" the striker gripped you tightly as mary doubled over in laughter at the two of you. "kick it?" you repeated in disbelief at her suggestion.

"alessia you better let go of me or i swear to god you're sleeping alone for this entire tournament!" you warned seriously, almost jumping on top of her as the bird darted toward you making you both scream and fall to the ground.

"pair of fucking idiots the both of you!" mary shook her head in disbelief, shooing away the bird as you glared down at your girlfriend. "i love you?" she smiled guilty, groaning as you elbowed her in the stomach and stood to your feet, storming off.

"dog house tonight for you less!" mary teased, barking at her as the striker hurried to her feet brushing the leaves off of her with a sigh. "shut up mary that thing was huge!" alessia huffed, crossing her arms and following after you as the goalkeeper kept pace.

"speaking of, i think it heard you." mary teased as the bird appeared again, alessia freezing in the spot. "come on less! you need to go and say sorry to your poor girlfriend." mary encouraged, waving for her to follow her.

"yeah i'll go when its moved!" alessia replied, taking very slow and cautious steps as the bird pecked at the ground a few meters away, seemingly disinterested in either of the girls.

"alessia is afraid of turkeys everyone!" mary announced, phone in hand filming a tiktok. "yeah well it just started charging right at us." alessia caught up to her, eyes never leaving the bird making mary grin.

"well i wouldn't say charging!" mary laughed, camera zoomed in on the strikers fear stricken face, nervous smile on her lips. "oh i would!" alessia scoffed, memory flashing back to just a few minutes ago when the bird had attacked.

"i would say its simply walking and minding its own business." mary turned her phone to film the bird now, wandering away from them still pecking at the ground. "well yeah but it did look us in the eye-go!" alessia argued, mary feeling a hand dig into her back as the younger girl shoved her forwards.

"why are you pushing me?" mary laughed, ending the video and sliding her phone into her pocket as alessia hurried the two of them down the path leaving the bird long behind them.

"god that was pathetic you're such a wuss." mary teased, swatting alessia's hands away from them as they returned back to the main building of the hotel, waving to a few of the other girls who were sat together on the grass watching a huddle of kangaroos.

"i am not!" alessia argued with a frown, the two of them jogging upstairs and into the lobby. "yes you are, first you use that poor girl as a shield and then me. she was right you should have been in front you're taller!" mary laughed with a shake of her head.

"i couldn't think about it in the moment my natural instincts kicked in." alessias frown deepened. "your natural instincts? what to cower and hide behind your five foot girlfriend? good luck less!" mary snickered, clapping her on the back and wandering off to find someone else to hang out with.

with a deep seeded sigh alessia stepped into the elevator, tapping her foot impatiently as it ascended the two floors and she made her way to your room which was right next to hers.

both of you having swapped spare key cards she wasted no time letting herself in, wincing at the glare you gave her as she did, closing the door softly behind her and making her way toward the bed.

"i'm sorry." she started honestly, standing at the foot of the bed as you were laid down on your back, head buried in a book and refusing to meet her apologetic gaze, eyebrows creased into a frown.

"i'm really really sorry?" alessia tried again, taking a seat on the end of the bed as once more you stayed silent, still not meeting her eyes as they trailed down your body. "i'm really really really reallyyy sorry." the striker continued, moving to sit up on her knees.

"baby." the girl frowned as she tried to lay down, your feet pressing into her shoulders preventing her from doing so. "i'm really really really really really really reallyyy sorry!" the blonde effortlessly knocked your feet off and flopped down on top of you, torso hovering above your hips as she held herself up with her arms.

"you used me as turkey bait." you scowled, lips pursed together in a small pout as you glanced at her over the top of your book. "you're the cutest turkey bait a girl could ever ask for?" alessia smiled charmingly, settling down so her chin rested on your lower stomach.

"cheap flattery will not work this time russo." you warned sternly, marking your page, closing your book and placing it down on the nightstand. "oh not the last name, baby you wound me!" alessia cried out, sitting up a little and clutching at her chest dramatically.

you bit down on your bottom lip to swallow the smile which wanted to curl onto your face. "nope! saw that." your girlfriend grinned, dropping back down and gently placing a tender kiss to the sliver of tanned skin poking out where your shirt had ridden up a little.

"alessia!" you couldn't help but laugh as suddenly she was pulling your shirt up properly and wedging her head inside, effectively wiggling herself to wear it alongside you. "you're stretching it." you groaned, still laughing as her head eventually poked out of the top, her body pressed flush against yours, pinning your own to the bed, the two of you trapped inside your training top.

"you wear mine all the time anyway babe so it doesn't matter." the striker grinned, shoving her hands in as well and moving them up to cup your face. "hello beautiful." she sung out with a charming smile, lips hovering over yours as you shook your head and she pecked your lips repeatedly again mumbling an apology each time she did.

"you are ridiculously clingy." you teased, corners of your mouth curving into an amused smirk. "gotta take the best care i can of my little human shield, and my most pretty girl." the taller girl was quick to retort back as your mouth formed a small o, dipping her head and pressing her again lips to yours.

"you're so lucky you're cute."

[ellieslittleburrow]

Summary : You're fighting off a bunch of men when Reacher comes to help. But you don't need his help. What does he do about that?

Pairings : Jack reacher x Platonic!reader

Warnings : fighting men

A/N : what a good change, i love this strong female lead thiing. Also what do we think?? Do we like??? Should we do more Reacher? Enjoy 🌸 also wtf i've never written something this fast.

----

"Let's split." You shout, spinting after the long-legged man while Reacher goes after the other one.

Your feet follow as your eyes scan through the crowds, you can't let this one go, he needs to be int- He takes a right turn, and as you enter the same alley, you find him already jumping over the fence-Nothing difficult for you...You've done that many a times- and as your shoes stick to the wall, you push against your arms to lift yourself up and over the brick bloc, jumping down onto the next alley-

You notice his body dissapearing into the right, and as you ready yourself to start running again, a couple of men suddenly appear from both sides, sending you staggering backwards in surprise.

"Don't make this too hard on yourself, little lady."

You straighten yourself up-You can't seem scared- You're not scared. And as they confidently walk closer to you, you examine their figures, the way their arms fall at their thighs. Big men...Boohoo...Too confident they don't realize you just shoved your hand into your pocket to put your brass knuckle in. Play time, fuckers.

As the first guy reaches for you, you pull his hand and kick your foot into his stomach-giving yourself some time to launch at the next guy, who throws a punch your way-you dodge it, punching him from under the chin, he staggers back and before you get to attack him again, the other guy grabs you from behind, swiftly pulling you from the ground and into the air. You squirm, freeing your arm from his grip to swing it back violently, your elbow landing somewhere on his face-You don't know where but it's a good enough place because he let go of you.

"Little lady, huh?" You scoff, throwing a punch at his face before spinning around to twist the hand that just gripped your shoulder-they might be big, but they're not as trained as you and you take advantage of that by punching his face while his hand is still twisted. He groans as the knuckle kisses his skin. You spin around again, finally ready to finish one of them off. The first guy is standing back up, his body rocking back and forth, conveying a lack of balance. "I'm gonna enjoy-" You swing your foot upward, landing it right under his testicules and as soon as he bends down in pain, you take ahold of his head, kicking your knee right into his face-

A crack sounds behind you, causing you to tuck and to spin around-Reacher.

Your eyes meet and Reacher lets go of the man's body, letting the cadaver hit the ground. You stare at him, unsure of your own emotions. Only then does the realisation hit you that the man you needed to catch escaped!!!

"Did you catch him????" You ask and your face reddens as anger courses through you. He did the fuck not.

"No" Reacher coldly says, only heightening your anger even furthur.

You close the distance between you two, lifting your chin up to look at him.

"Why would you fucking do that, Reacher? We've been running after this guy for a month-What the hell is wrong with you?" You yell. But that doesn't do much to him, so you push against his chest. "I'm talking to you-fucking answer me." You demand, your face leaning in every direction his goes. He's avoiding your eyes and you hate that. "HEY!"

"I COULDN'T LEAVE YOU HERE ALONE." He yells back and you startle, taking a discreet step back.

"I don't need your help, Reacher." You only lower your voice a tiny bit. "I can take care of my own god damn self."

You look back when breathing sounds behind you, snapping you out of the fight. "Oh yeah, him." The guy you knocked out starts waking up. You walk over to him, dropping to your knees to plant your knuckle into his face, knocking him out a second time.

"I don't need your help."

"It's not-it's in my instincts. I can't help it."

You scuff. "As flattering as that sounds, Reacher, my case is drowned. It's fucked. So please do me the favor of keeping your mouth shut-you're not the strongest guy in the world, i did not need you."

"Yeah! And you're not in a competition, relax."

You'd gasp at his response if you could-but you didn't want to puff his chest up for him. Ouch...You ignore the sting in your heart, brushing past him to walk back home.

What a guy...

----

Hello again ❤️❤️❤️🥀🥀🥀 i hope you enjoyed this 🌸 i'll see ya next time!

[thesuperiorrobin]

songbird || Damian Wayne x reader

In the dirty alleyways of Gotham, you meet Robin.

Red string tied to his pinky, you blink incredulously when you stare at the vigilante, eyes wide, horror setting in.

"My soulmate turns into a PUMPKIN DURING THE DAY?!" You shriek, and Robin raises a brow when a light turns on in one of the nearby apartments.

"That's a myth." He leans back on the brick lining of the wall, raising a brow at you. "besides, who in their right mind would follow their soulmate string into an alleyway in Gotham of all places?"

"Um, me." You deadpan. "Me. Now, since I'm your soulmate—"

"You do not get to know who's behind the mask."

"Oh, come on!" You whine. "That's not fair!"

Damian sighs, brows pulling into a frown as you grumble about how you couldn't see the string during day, and he pauses. That would explain why you never even looked his way at school. You, who had been notorious for pulling on your string during class and being a hopeless romantic, had never once considered Damian to be your soulmate. Oh, he'd definitely have fun messing with you with this.

"Even if I told you, you would not believe me."

"You're speaking as if you know me." You notice the way his gaze changes. 

Damian's lips quirk upward. "Yeah? Really? I can only see my string when it's day."

You pause. "So you know that I'm your soulmate? Are you my age?"

"Well," He pauses. "Figure it out yourself."

You gawk as he leaves you in the alleyway. There was no way this was Gotham's second best-known vigilante.

𓅫

The next day in school, Damian has the time of his life while you talk about how your soulmate was Robin, tugging on your shared string. His index finger loops around your shared string as he twists it between his fingers, lips pulled upward as you continue your rant. It was amusing to see you so worked up over him.

"And he left me! Just let me in the alleyway in the middle of Gotham!" You throw your hands up in exasperation. "What kind of a soulmate does that?!"

"He is quite the issue." Damian shrugs, expression falling back to neutral.

"God, why can't I be soulmates with someone hot or something?"

"Do you not find Robin attractive?"

"He's an asshole." You deadpan, grimacing. "Asshole."

"But attractive?"

"No." You pause. "Assholes aren't hot."

"What happened to your type in fictional characters?"

"Being an asshole is only hot if you're fictional because you can't be terrible to real people." You roll your eyes. "At least Robin is my soulmate. My worst nightmare would be waking up and being told I'm your soulmate."

Damian freezes, raising a brow at you. "Why is that so bad?"

You sigh. "I don't have daddy's nor mommy's money. If I were to be your soulmate, that would plunge me into the life that rich people live."

"Which is bad because...?"

You furrow your brows at him incredulously. "I'm poor? Broke? I'm middle class? I don't know how to handle all of that money?"

"You wouldn't have to handle it, you know?" Damian raises a brow, pushing the door open for you. "We have an accountant and everything."

"Dames." You sigh, patting his chest twice as you walk past him. "No."

𓅫

Robin meets you on your balcony window that same night, your favorite flowers in his arms as he knocks on your window.

"Oh, look what my red string brought in." You roll your eyes. 

"Your soulmate." He hands you the flowers. "It brought you your soulmate."

"How do you find me, even?"

"Maybe I was the pumpkin outside of your window during the day." He shrugs.

"No pumpkins outside of my window, thank you." You grimace. "How'd you even know these were my favorite flower?"

"Master told me."

"There's no way in hell you know Damian." You deadpan.

"Oh, songbird caught on quick?" He smiles playfully.

You pause at the change in voice. "Damian Al-Guhl Wayne take off your fucking mask right this second."

Damian plays dumb, tilting his head. "Who's that?"

"Okay, that's just twice as stupid." You lunge at him, reaching for his mask as he falls backward, arm securing around your waist as the two of you hang. Damian smiles at you as you try and shove him off of you.

"That's not smart, songbird." He laughs, wrestling an arm out to get his mask.

"Why not?"

"You live on the top floor of your complex." He slides his mask on, flipping so that you'd be in his arm. "You'd die if you fall from this height."

"You know, Dames."

"Robin while on duty." He hums. "What is it?"

"You can just lock me in your basement or something. I am NOT attending a Wayne gala with you."

"We can get there slowly."

(Is there a character limit am I over the character limit sorry this is lowkey laced with crack maybe one day I will have the brainpower for smth poetic)

AMAZING! LOVE IT!!!

I’m getting feed with this Soulmates AU😘

[highdefhoetry]

Behind the Blindfold, ch. 4 [Gojo Satoru x reader]

tags: NSFW!!! female reader, jealousy, possessiveness, marking/biting/hickies, penetration (penis in vagina), unprotected sex, vaginal fingering, oral sex (vaginal), tickle kink, creampie, finger sucking, big dick, aftercare, exhibitionism, hair pulling, doggy style, overstimulation, forced orgasms, multiple orgasms, post orgasm torture, size kink, size difference, reader is short, gojo is feral af and a bit sadistic

summary: after a big argument fueled by jealousy, gojo satoru is determined to prove you wrong.

word count: ~4,477

read part 1 here! read part 2 here! read part 3 here!

read on ao3 here!

“Hey! (Y/N), wait!”

Heavy footsteps echo behind you as you rush through the crowded streets of Tokyo. You push your way past unassuming people, simmering quietly as you make your stormy escape. You hear someone calling for you, but the sound of his voice only serves to ignite you further. You pretend not to hear and keep going.

“I said wait, god damn it!”

You dip into a nearby alley and find yourself at a dead end. Shit. The footsteps that had been following behind you for the last several blocks pause, and you sense a foreboding presence behind you. You swing around to glare at Gojo Satoru, who’s staring back at you from behind dark tinted glasses with an uncharacteristically serious expression. He had barely broken a sweat during the chase, despite how quickly he was walking to keep up with you. Your attempt to run away had been futile.

“You’re a real piece of work. You know that?” he rubs the back of his neck, rolling his head backwards from side to side. “How many times am I going to have to chase after you like this?”

“I thought I told you to leave me alone.” 

Your voice is sharp and full of venom. He shoves his hands into his pockets, the corners of his lips turned down in displeasure.

“Calm down, firecracker. Why are you so angry all of a sudden?” he whines. “You’re more worked up than usual.”

“Don’t tell me to calm down!” you snap back furiously.

“Okay, okay,” Gojo puts his hands up in an act of surrender, letting his sunglasses slide down the bridge of his nose. His radiant blue eyes peer over them, studying you intently. “I’m just trying to figure out why you’re so pissed off.”

“You know exactly why,” you spit back, trembling a bit from anger. “I should have known you’d pull something like this. I should have never gotten involved with you.”

“Huh? What on earth are you going on about?” annoyance begins to seep through his voice. “What the hell did I do?”

“I fucking saw you, Satoru. With my own two eyes.”

“Saw me what?” His volume increases, and you sense his own patience is wearing thin. “Spit it out already. I’m tired of this damn guessing game.”

“You were flirting with her! Right in front of me!” the tears you had been forcing back finally break through. You feel a few of them drip onto your burning cheeks and quickly wipe them dry. Your entire body feels hot. You hadn’t realized how agitated you had become. How he always managed to get under your skin was beyond you.

“Flirting with who? ” he pauses for a moment, tilting his head to the side with brows furrowed. “...Hold on a second. You mean the barista?”

“Yes,” you hiss. “I saw you take her number.”

You shoot daggers at his perfect face while he gawks at you, taking a moment to process your words. Then, his frown slowly starts to fade. A slow smile creeps across his face as he looks back at you with an incredible amount of satisfaction, chucking quietly in that low baritone of his. 

That goddamn smile. It made it almost impossible for you to cling onto the anger. 

Almost.

“Ah. I see what’s going on.”

He closes in on you, taking advantage of the fact that you’re up against the wall with nowhere else to run. 

“You’re jealous.”

Lacking the energy to come up with a comeback, you simply cross your arms and scowl. He lets out a bitter laugh, shakes his head a little. 

“Well, I can’t help that I’m ridiculously good looking and charming. It’s not something I can control,” he says, wearing the biggest shit-eating grin. “But she’s not my type at all. I just accepted it to be polite. You know, because somebody is always on my ass about being nice to people?”

You scoff angrily, but a few seconds later, he pulls you into his embrace. He wraps his arms around your back, pulls you into his chest. It’s such a sweet gesture. You don’t have the heart to push him away.

“You don’t need to get all grumpy about it,” his velvet baritone melts in your ear, his breath tickles your skin. “I told you, you’re the only one I’m interested in right now. That’s why I asked you out on this date, no?”

He takes your chin in one of his big hands, then pulls your face up, forcing you to return his gaze.

“Have a little more faith in me. How many times do I have to say that I only want you?”

He leans down and plants a kiss on your lips, twirling his tongue with yours. You close your eyes, allowing the last tears you’d been suppressing to drip onto your cheeks. He catches them in his thumbs and wipes them away. You’re not fighting him, but still find it difficult to get into it. He senses your hesitation and pulls away.  

“You still don’t trust me,” he furrows his brows again, looking a bit forlorn.

A tinge of remorse stings your heart, but you remain silent. He sighs, shoving his hands in his pockets once more before backing away. He looks towards the sky as if contemplating something, pondering silently for a few moments, then turns back towards you with a stoic expression.

“You know, I’m a patient guy, (Y/N),” he finally speaks. His tone is darker, more embittered. “But even I have my limits.”

He narrows his eyes to glare at you intensely. The sight of him barely containing his unbridled frustration fills you with both fear and excitement. Your heart skips several beats; you recognize that look. You knew what this meant.

Those wild, insatiable eyes. 

The way he’s purposely leering over you, a quiet reminder of your height difference. 

He could ravage you as he pleased, take you whenever he wanted, as he’d done many times before.

And he was about to do it again. 

Still at a loss of words, all you manage to do is stare back at him and watch as the sweet Gojo you’ve come to know becomes something sinister.

“What do I gotta do to prove myself, huh?” he towers over you as your back presses against the wall with that same crazed look in his eyes he had whenever he was about to take something, or someone, down. “Do I have to grovel at your feet? Kiss the ground you walk on? Tear my skin off so you can see me bleed for you?”

He slams his hand on the concrete wall beside your head and stares into your soul, locking those stunning baby blues with yours. 

Ba-dump. Ba-dump.

You’d seen this side of him only once or twice, when the two of you were exorcizing a particularly difficult curse during one of your assignments. It was hard enough back then to focus on combat while you watched his fingers work their magic, curling and twisting as he used his jujutsu technique, reminding you of how skilled he was with his hands and how good they felt knuckle deep inside of you. His hair had been wild and unkempt as it flowed around his head. His eyes were fierce and untamed. His smile was wide and full of malice. He snickered as he worked, full of twisted pleasure as he tore the curse apart.

And now, his attention was solely on you.

“Maybe I’ve been too nice. Maybe I need to be a real bad guy for you to finally understand.”

Before you have a chance to respond, you feel one of his big hands wrap around your neck, holding you tightly in place. His grip is firm, but not painful. Your breath becomes shallow and frantic, and there’s nowhere to look but up. Your eyes meet his and his hands start to roam, slipping between your thighs to feel the warmth between them. His fingers touch your wet mound, then start to massage your swollen hood. He grins menacingly and lets out another dark chuckle.

“You like that, baby? You want me to be mean? You’re already soaking wet.”

His thumb traces your bottom lip, admiring its softness. You part your lips, inviting him inside, and he takes advantage of this invitation by shoving his thumb into your mouth. You wrap your lips around it, marveling at the taste and feel. It’s clean, soft, and a bit chapped from the dry air. Your mouth moves forward and backwards, reminding him of the talents of your tongue. His grin grows bigger, stretching his beautiful pink lips across his face.

When he can’t wait any longer, he pulls out his thumb and picks you up in a smooth, seamless fashion. He grabs the back of your thighs and lifts you into the air, pushing your back up against the alley wall while holding your legs at both sides of his waist. It happens so fast that you don’t have time to protest, to claim that you’re too heavy or that it’s too embarrassing. It’s like he’s carrying a basket of feathers; you’re practically weightless to him. Your legs dangle in midair for a second until they wrap around his waist as his thick, strong hands rest on your ass, cradling each cheek in his wide palms. There was no sign of strain or discomfort in his expression. Only an insatiable hunger, one that only you could feed.

God. He was so fucking hot.

“You want me to fuck you in front of her?” he growls into your ear in between the frantic neck kisses he’s peppering over your skin. “I’ll bring you back there right fucking now. I’ll show her how badly I want you.”

His mouth hungrily consumes you, his lips press themselves against every inch of your face. You’re caught between breathy gasps, sultry moans, and half-giggles. The sensations almost overwhelm you. 

Your hand sneaks around to the back of his head and grips it tightly. His teeth sink into your neck, causing you to cry out and dig your nails in his skin. They wander upwards, scratching and clawing his buzzed undercut, and once again you are blessed with the sound of his sweet moans. 

“Tell me who you belong to,” you demand, grabbing fistfuls of his silk hair, drunk off the beautiful, desperate noises he’s making. 

“You,” he grunts while humping against your mound. He’s rock hard; it won’t be much longer until he forces it inside you once more. 

“Say it louder.”

“You. I belong to you.”

“That’s right,” You cup his face, pull him in towards you until his lips meet yours. You whisper loaded threats in between each stolen kiss. 

“You’re mine. All mine. I’ll fucking kill anyone who comes near you.”

It’s intense. Even you frighten yourself a bit as you voice your internal thoughts. But this is what Gojo Satoru has done to you. 

“You’re scary, (Y/N),” he teases, laughing a little. “But it’s really fucking hot.”

You are starting to grow tired of words. Feeling brave, you run both hands through his hair, then yank it softly as you pull his head to one side. There’s a momentary look of shock on his face, but his confident grin quickly returns. 

“Taking charge now?” he chirps. 

You lean forward and whisper in his ear, mimicking all the times he’d done the same to you.

“I want the whole world to know you’re mine.” 

It’s subtle, but you see him shudder as your words wash over him.

You begin to trail a path of kisses from his lips to his neck. Once you reach the smooth, blemish-free skin, you begin to suck, lick and bite ever so gently. He makes a sudden noise that’s shockingly high pitched before letting out a long moan. You hear his voice shudder as you do it again, alternating between tender kisses and aggressive bites. Each time you pull away, you look at his pale skin and see another red mark in the shape of your lips and teeth. But the other side looks bare. You gently pull his head to the left, allowing you access to the untouched. Your lips meet his skin once more, your teeth leave indents as you nibble and suck. 

The sounds coming out of his mouth are heavenly. Like a chorus of angels warbling in the air. His voice flutters with every kiss, every bite, every new mark left that claims him as your own. His beautiful blue eyes roll back in his head as he makes sweet, fluttery noises, just for you.

“(Y/N)...” he murmurs, barely able to form coherent words. There was something oddly satisfying about seeing a grown man like him turn to putty in your hands. The greatest sorcerer in the world, brought down by neck kisses and hickies. And you were the only one who could bring him here.

You lose track of how many times you mark him, but when you’re finished, you trace each one with the tip of your finger. Admiring your work. Your marking has left him in a dream-like state; the only thing that comes out of his mouth is an airy, bubbly giggle. His skin quivers as your fingers trail across his neck. He’s just as sensitive as you are, if not more.

Your lips press against his, reawakening his desire. His hands grope your thighs. His fingers press deep into your skin, wanting to leave their own mark on you. 

He can’t wait any longer. He sets you down, back on your feet. Wobbly hands grab your panties and yank them down your thighs. The hem of your skirt rides up, and you feel a rush of cool air between your legs. You suddenly remember you’re in public; your eyes dart around to see if any passersby are peeping at your lewd act. He notices this and laughs.

“Oh, are you feeling shy now?” he derides. “I forgot. You like your privacy.”

You start to talk back, but your surroundings change in an instant, and once again you find yourself in a totally new space far from the dirty, rancid alley. Gojo and his goddamn cursed technique. He just had to show it off whenever he had the chance. 

You briefly glance around, and after a few seconds it dawns on you that you’re at his place. You’d only been there once or twice, but you recognize the smell of expensive cologne and the piles of black clothes scattered around the floor. The essence of Gojo Satoru.

He carries you to the couch and plops you down, then climbs on top to straddle you. He seizes your wrists, holds them above your head, then uses his free hand to poke and prod at your sides. It happens so fast, you have no time to prepare yourself for the electrifying sensations that shock your nerves. You scream, you laugh, you thrash around wildly as he torments your sensitive body more than ever before. All while cackling maniacally like some sort of evil villain. 

“Satoru, stahahap!” is all you can manage to spit out. 

“What’s the matter? You like this, don’t you?” he taunts, tickling you even harder. “I’m just getting you warmed up, sweetheart.”

“Stop, it’s too much! I can’t take it!”

“That’s right, baby. Beg for me.”

You feel like you’re going insane. He’s tickling you to madness, digging into your worst spots and tweaking your soft skin like he’s playing an instrument. Your laughter starts to sound like a hysterical melody. You’re struggling like hell to get out of his grasp, but the tickling has weakened you and eventually you resign yourself to laughing. Tears prick the corners of your eyes, and he watches your futile attempts to escape with sadistic glee. You start to babble, pleading him for mercy, but all that earns you is more wicked laughter.

“You cryin’?” he taunts, wiping a tear off your cheek and licking it. “How cute. No mercy for you, though. I’m a bad guy now, remember?”

A moment of respite. You grovel, appeal to his sense of mercy, but in the end he ignores you and resumes his torment. His fingers dance across your ribs, following your body’s movements as you twist and turn. At this point you can’t even form words, and despite how much you’re shrieking and giggling it still seems like he’s laughing even harder. 

You’re not sure how much time passes. It could have been a few minutes, or half an hour, or longer, but he finally lets up, allows you to catch your breath. You take deep gulps of air, still giggling lightly when you feel his hand rest on your stomach. 

The momentary respite ends too soon. He slides his hands down your waist, rests them on your hips, taps them with his long fingers. The feeling makes you jolt, and the sight of you quivering under his touch amuses him further. He chuckles again, staring down at you with a crazed, feral look in his eyes. Your heart is thumping so loudly you wonder if he can hear it. 

“Turn around.”

It isn’t a request. He doesn’t give you any time to decide whether or not you’re going to be obedient or defiant, quickly flipping you over so he can gain access to what he wants most. He grabs your hips again and lifts them into the air, forcing your face into the suede cushions on the sofa. You feel his soft lips press against your cheeks as they plant sloppy, wet kisses and love bites across the seldom-touched skin. You cry out softly, overcome with pleasure and just the right amount of pain. Out of nowhere, his tongue flicks your taint, making you squeal and buck your hips forward. You had not been expecting that. He simply pulls your hips back, slamming them against his own before licking the hyper-sensitive area once more. All while stroking his fingers up and down your sides, putting you in overstimulation hell. The sounds coming out of your mouth are inhumane.

Several minutes pass, and he finally decides he’s had his fill of your suffering. At least for now.  Ready to be inside you, he yanks down his pants and boxers, throws them off to the side. They must have knocked over a lamp or something, because you hear a loud crash on the other end of the room. You turn your head to look, but don’t get the chance to see what it was. His hand pushes down on your neck, forcing you down once more while the tip of his cock pushes itself against your hole. You cry out when he shoves it inside. No matter how wet you are, his dick will always take you by surprise by its sheer size and girth. It feels so fucking good. It’s driving you insane.

The palm of his hand moves from the back of your neck to the lower part of your scalp. He makes a fist and pulls, softly at first to ease you into it, then with a bit more force. It forces your head back as he pumps his dick inside you over and over. It’s different from how he’s fucked you before. This time, there is no slow buildup or loving thrusts. Just him slamming his cock deep in your hole with rapid, deep strokes. 

His other hand is gripping your waist, gently squeezing it every now and then to mess with you. Each time you feel that tickly feeling, your hole clenches around his member, coaxing more feral grunts and moans from his beautiful lips. Your back arches, your ass cheeks slam against his hips, your voice grows hoarse from the guttural moans emerging from your throat.

“You feel so fucking good, baby,” he croons. “Your perfect little hole is mine.”

“Satoru! Aaaah…”

“You want me to fill you up, sweetheart?”

“God, yes! Yes! ”

A few more strokes, shoved deep inside of you, and finally he comes. And he comes hard . He lets out one more loud groan before busting a load inside you, filling you once more with warmth and satisfaction. His cock twitches as it rests inside you; his moans grow softer, quieter. He stays there for a while, and you relish the full feeling his giant cock provides. When he finally pulls out after several seconds of cockwarming, you feel his seed dripping out. It soaks the cushions below. 

But he’s not done with you yet. He manhandles you again, turning you over so you’re on your back and your legs are wide open, giving him full access to your cunt. His head dips down. His lips press against your throbbing clit. His tongue dances and twirls around, then his mouth consumes you completely. You’re already soaking wet, full of his cum and yours, and the intensity of his tongue movements are pushing you over the edge. You grip the fabric of the couch and arch your back, losing yourself in the ecstasy of his touch. 

It takes quite a while for you to reach the edge, but he works you over with steadfast patience. He chuckles as he listens to you whimper and moan, and doesn’t resist when you grab his head and shove his face further down. His expert tongue and soft lips send waves of pleasure through your body, never ceasing even after you climax. Ecstasy courses through your veins. Pleasure vibrates through every nerve ending. You throw back your head and practically scream. You’ve never come this hard before, not with anyone else but him.

He’s not finished. As you’re panting and heaving, he slips one finger into your hole and slowly pumps it back and forth. Still writhing from the earth-shattering climax he just gave you, there’s little you can do but cry in frustrated pleasure. With one curl of his finger, he brings you to another climax, this one much more intense than the last. Your entire body arches upward. Colors and shapes explode in your vision. Your mind is starting to go fuzzy, but he still doesn’t stop. When the second orgasm has finished washing over you, he sticks in another finger and curls it up. Then he does it again, and again, and again…

With sweat plastered across your forehead and skin flushed so deeply it feels aflame, you whisper quiet pleas to your merciless lover.

“Satoru…” you splutter in between haggard breaths. “No more…”

He simply grins at you in response, devouring the sight of you with his voracious six eyes.

Ten long fingers rest on your hips, stroking them lightly. They crawl up your sides, then back down again. They follow your body’s movements while you thrash wildly, laughing and screaming in octaves you never knew you could reach. Every light flutter, every feathery claw feels like an electrical surge on your skin. All those successive orgasms have left you insanely sensitive. It’s the closest thing to torture you’ve ever felt. Gojo watches you with cruel satisfaction, laughs maniacally when you try to beg for respite. It’s unhinged, the way he’s giggling so cutely while making you suffer. Part of you is scared he’ll never stop. Part of you hopes he never will.

Fortunately, he does. After god knows how long he finally lets up, although he keeps his hands on your waist and his eyes focused on you. You can’t imagine how you must look; your eyes are bleary from all the tears he’s forced out, and your hair is strewn wildly about your head from all the struggling and wild movements. Your skin is warm, your throat feels dry. He damn near killed you with this little game of his.

He senses your exhaustion and stands up to grab you something to drink. He’s back in a split second, pressing the glass of cold water against your lips.

“Drink,” he commands, and you obey without protest. You finish the whole cup in a few gulps. 

He pushes some of your hair out of your face, strokes your cheeks gently before kissing each one. His lips meet yours, and once you pull away he takes you in his arms and cradles you as you lay against his chest.

“Fuck…” you finally speak once you’ve regained your strength. “You’re a goddamn monster.”

That makes him laugh. He hugs you a little tighter and plants a kiss on your head.

“Are you still upset?"

"Upset about what?"

Oh. Right. You'd forgotten all about that. He smirks victoriously, proud of himself for getting one over on you once more. Asshole. But you don’t have the energy to say much else. Instead, you close your eyes, ready for a fucking nap after all that stimulation, but something stirring on the other side of the room gets your attention. You lift your head up, scanning the place for the source of the sound before your eyes fall on the figure sitting in the corner. The same corner you had heard that crash earlier.

A look of horror crosses your face as the realization hits you. 

Someone else was in the room.

And she’d seen the entire thing. 

It’s the barista from the coffee shop. The one you had accused. The poor girl gapes back at you both in disbelief and confusion, frozen with panic.

“Satoru!” you shout. He erupts into laughter, finding great amusement in your shock.

“Don’t worry. She’ll probably think it’s some sort of dream or vision,” he says in an attempt to console you. “Anyway, give me juuuust a second…”

He stands up, walks over to the young woman, then places a hand on her shoulder. They both vanish from your sight, and a few seconds later he reappears.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” you shout again, earning another chuckle in response.

“I told you I’d fuck you in front of her.”

He hovers over you, his face so close to yours that you can feel his breath on your cheeks.

“Next time, believe me when I tell you how I feel. Then we won’t have to play these silly games.”

You gawk at him for a long time, a million thoughts running through your mind. You want to scold him, tell him off, rip him a new asshole, but god. You’re so damn tired. And you can’t argue when he’s looking at you like this, with his big baby blues full of affection, like you’re the most precious thing in the world.

Two big hands cup your cheeks, brushing away the last of your sweat and tears. You close your eyes, and a soft pair of lips kiss your eyelids and forehead. When you open them again, his beautiful face greets you with a gentle smile full of adoration.

Gojo Satoru was a fucking enigma. The more you got to know him, the less you understood. But you were past the point of no return.

As you found yourself lost in those eyes of his once more, you knew there was no going back. 

[justanothervaultie]

[deanbrainrotwritings]

— HEARTBREAK FEELS SO GOOD

SUMMARY : dean’s ninety-nine percent sure he’s fucking his girlfriend in the closet... okay, seventy-three percent sure, now… and actually, he’s pretty sure it is his girlfriend… thirty-five percent sure. 

PAIRING : dean winchester x OFC, dean winchester x fem!reader

CHARACTERS : jeralynne mora (OFC), random sexy elf girl deserves a mention 

WARNINGS/TAGS : explicit(18+), angst, praise kink, Dean dressed as Ken, cheating, p in v, smut, unprotected sex (don’t be irresponsible), oral sex (f. receiving), fingering, nipple play, consent is so hot and it’s really sexy when you ask and it’s so fucking hot to ask for consent multiple times to make sure it’s definitely yes still 

WORD COUNT : 3.5k

A/N : fall out boy song title. @spnkinkevents : #12daysofspnkinkmas2023 — anonymous sex and costumes. for now, I think it’s just a one part story. all morality has flown out the window for this one, mates. XX

Dean lost track of his girlfriend somewhere in the sea of horny, sweaty, dancing people. It was dark inside the overly crowded house, lights flashed and overwhelmed his senses, the music was as loud as it could be so that he could feel the beat of the music in his stomach. The alcohol was not settling right in his stomach tonight because of it, so he abandoned the red plastic cup on a random table. 

He didn’t want to come to this costume party at all, but Jeralynne insisted. Four months, they’d been dating for four months and it’s almost Christmas. It’s cold as hell outside and he’s dressed in one fucking layer of a Ken costume—for her. 

He couldn’t bring himself to break up with her, but she was thrilled to see him everyday, and he just couldn’t do it. When they sat in silence, the words rested heavily on his tongue, his heart would beat fast, and he just wanted to do it, but then she’d be sweet on him. He couldn’t break her heart, but he knew he had to. Maybe after Christmas, he couldn’t do this to her now. 

At least the hundreds of people dancing and kissing provided warmth. 

Dean walked up the staircase, side-stepping past couples humping each other and making out heatedly against the walls. He made a point to stare at girls and gave them smirks and a wink when they grinned friskily at him while kissing their boyfriends.

The walls were so damn thin for such a giant house, he was unable to escape the loud sound of the music. The bass vibrated through the walls, causing picture frames to shake. He nearly wanted to run out of the place and choose to freeze his balls off outside, but he finally saw her.

Jeralynne was talking to a girl dressed as a sexy elf. God, at least that sexy Zorro costume she was wearing tonight was getting him hot and bothered. He considered asking her to fuck him and maybe slap him around a little, but maybe it was too early in the relationship for that. 

Instead, he went up to her in her tiny, tight leather dress and slapped a hand over her ass. She gasped and turned around to face him, that classic red cup spilling liquid over her hand. She glared up at him cutely from under the brim of her black Stetson, her eyes narrowing between the black mask tied around her head.

He stole the drink from her and handed it to the sexy elf. She immediately took the cup without a complaint and whispered something along the lines of, “go get ‘em, hot stuff,” into Jeralynne’s hair. 

“Hey!” She exclaimed, but he could hardly hear her. He just smirked down at her and pulled her close to him by her waist, leaning in to smell her skin. So flowery, always. “Dude!” She tried to look him in the eyes, but he nipped at her collarbone and shut her up with the gasp that escaped her. 

“You’re not drunk, are ya, sexy?” He asked against her neck, leavening a trail of wet kisses along her neck and above her breasts. He walked her backwards and pressed her into the wall as she squirmed in his arms.

“Uh,” she flushed, pushing her arms against his chest, “no, that wasn’t alcohol.” She stared up at him curiously, there was sexy, fiery defiance and irritation in her eyes that turned him on. He planted a kiss on her lips that made her gasp in surprise. 

“Good,” he murmured against her mouth and trailed his hands down to grab her ass then squeezed, and ground against her thigh. She cursed softly when she felt his erection. “You look smoking hot in this costume and I wanna fuck you real bad. I found a spot, what d’ya say? You down?” 

He stopped what he was doing to weave his fingers through her soft hair and tilted her face up to drop kisses over her jaw by pulling gently at the roots. She stopped resisting him and grabbed his face to kiss him deeply, moaning a soft ‘I’m down’ against his mouth that made him smirk.

“Awesome,” he murmured, nibbling on her bottom lip and massaging her scalp. “The spot’s just a closet actually. That okay with you?” He asked with a quiet laugh, moving her with him to where the nearest closet was. She laughed breathlessly against his lips and nodded. A little shiver moved over her body like a wave when he opened the door.

“Yeah, s’long as we both fit,” she teased, earning a deep chuckle from him. He closed the door behind him and grabbed onto the tight hem of her dress to leave it bunched at her waist. 

“Baby, the less space there is, the closer I am to your sweet little ass,” he moaned softly. She cursed under her breath and swiftly raised her hands to loosen the red tie he wore. 

She pulled him in roughly by his now-loose tie and he moaned before they even made contact. She captured his lips in a breathy kiss. Dean felt his resolve melt away when she licked past his parted lips. His heart skipped a few beats when she buried her fingers into his hair and tugged. He gasped into her mouth, met her sweet tongue halfway, and kissed her lewdly. 

She fumbled with the buttons of his striped blue and white shirt as he teased the waistband of her lace panties. He breathed heavily against her lips and helped her unbutton the shirt all the way. Their noses bumped against each other and he dove back in for a deep kiss while she shoved the red suspenders over his shoulders.

He licked her tongue as his cock twitched, aching to be let out of the thin slacks keeping him from being inside her. He swallowed her soft moan, pressing against her mouth desperately, keeping her pinned between the wall and his firm body. The sweet taste of non-alcoholic eggnog overtook his taste buds, so he sucked her tongue into his mouth for a better taste, needing the flavour of her permanently. 

She hummed softly and reached behind him with one hand to squeeze his ass. He pulled back slightly with a gasp, a wet pop resounding inside the closed space when he parted from her mouth, and a blush scurried up his face. 

“You're the hottest Ken I’ve seen tonight,” she whispered, fitting a hand between their bodies and biting his bottom lip, tugging gently until he groaned in pleasure. 

“Pretty sure I’m the only Ken here,” he retorted bashfully. “But… thanks.” She skilfully unbuckled his belt, and laughed against his mouth when he looked down to watch her slim fingers move quickly to unbutton his slacks. 

She trailed her lips across his jaw, slowly pulling his zipper down, and nipped gently at his earlobe. He bit his lip and pulled her underwear to the side, slipping his middle finger through her wet folds. He heard her breath hitch, moaned softly at the swollenness of her clit, and felt her leg ride up his hip to open herself up to his touch.

“Fuck, you’re so needy, sweetheart,” he murmured, circling her slippery entrance with two fingers. 

“Says the one who can’t shut up,” she teased with a smirk. He scrunched his nose, then he pouted at her. She curled her fingers around the back of his neck and slipped her hand into his pants. She cupped his hard dick in her hand and sucked lightly at his pulse. He moaned lowly, almost growling when she found the spot instantly, licking and biting his special spot.

He felt like he was going to combust. She snuck her hand lower and brushed her thumb over the wet spot his leaking cock left on the cotton of his boxers. With a whimper, he removed his hand from her pussy and sucked his fingers clean of her arousal. 

“I don’t have a condom, baby,” he admitted, untying the lace over her breasts so he could open the leather dress. She slipped her hand out of his slacks and frowned, disappointed. “I’m clean, though, if you wanna keep going. If not, I can find other ways to please you,” he murmured, tugging the dress open impatiently to latch onto her breasts. 

“Fuck…” she moaned, arching her back. She was so horny, she didn’t really want to stop, and his constant search for a yes turned her on. The guys she tried to date were so horrible that the bare fucking minimum was doing it for her. His lips felt soft against her skin, his stubble tickled her sensitive skin when he moved from one breast to the other. “I’m clean, too,” she gasped, reaching for his hips, she tugged him forward, and ground her pussy against his thigh. 

“That’s a yes to fucking, then?” He asked with a chuckle, starting to pull her underwear down slowly. 

“Yes,” she replied with a grin, helping him pull the lace past her black thigh-high boots. He even got down on his knees and let her support herself on his shoulders so she wouldn’t trip. As soon as he got them off, she pulled both his boxers and slacks down, letting them pool around the shiny black shoes he wore. “Wow, you are…” she trailed off, taking his cock gingerly in her hand.

He grabbed her wrist and she looked up at him in question. He didn’t say anything, he just guided her soft hand up and down his throbbing, heavy shaft, while staring into her eyes. She bit her lip coyly and tightened her grip. It drew a rumbling moan from deep within his chest. 

“I’m what?” He asked, his voice husky and raspy. He licked his pink, swollen lips, stepping closer to her. 

“Big, thick,” she listed, tugging faster at his cock, “pretty. I wouldn’t mind having you in my mouth… it’s a shame you’re going inside me.” His eyes darkened at her lascivious expression. He pulled her hand away and manhandled her small frame into position. Her Stetson fell to the floor but they didn’t care. 

“It’ll be worth it, babe,” he murmured against her neck, while his fingers pinched her nipple and he roughly kneaded her breast. She leaned back into his chest, squirming, panting, and resting her head on his shoulder. 

“Is that an empty promise?” She teased softly, feeling him gently pull her cloak out of the way. He cut off the laugh before it even escaped her lips by lifting her leg up by the bend of her knee. She yelped and reached out to stabilise herself with her palm flat on the wall.

“Guess that’s up to you,” he told her, finding her sweet spot to mark it up as she had done to him. From behind, he rolled his hips forward and rubbed his cock through her soaked folds. They moaned together and he almost came when he felt her reach down to press his cock closer to her clit. With a breathless, “fuck, you’re driving crazy,” he reached down and replaced her hand with his, positioning the head of his cock at her entrance. 

“Please, fuck me,” she begged, reaching back with her freehand to bury her fingers in his gelled hair. 

He smirked and slowly pushed his cock inside her. He groaned instantly as her walls fluttered around him, her warmth made him breathless, and he squeezed the thigh he was holding up. When she gasped, he slowly pulled out and then thrusted back inside her roughly, going deeper and deeper. 

From this angle, his cock brushed repeatedly over her g-spot. Either she was sleeping with the wrong guys or she was so horny anything felt good. She had a feeling it the former thing, he knew what he was doing, just how to fuck her, where to put his hands, and knew just what to say to make her open her legs to him. He got into a mind-numbing rhythm and sucked another red mark on her shoulder. 

He breathed heavily into her ear and found her breast with his other hand rather than gripping her hip. Dean noticed that as he fucked her harder, her moans started to sound slightly different than before, softer and less pornographic. It was hotter somehow, more intimate. Her gasps and the occasional moans, and thrown in between curses were short praises that made him slam into her harder. 

“You feel amazing,” he rasped, twisting her nipple one last time before bringing his hand down to massage her swollen clit. She gasped sharply and clamped down on his cock. “Good girl, so wet for me…” he trailed off, rubbing circles on her clit faster. 

“Oh, God, I’m gonna-” a strangled moan cut off her sentence when he pinched her clit. 

“Shit, me too,” he chuckled deeply. “Where do you want me?” He heaved, hips stuttering as she squeezed him tighter. She turned her face slightly and pulled his lips down to hers.

“Inside me,” she murmured, kissing him roughly. With a few more thrusts, she orgasmed and her velvety walls pulsed around his throbbing cock. Her curses and moans filled the small closet and he groaned loudly against her mouth. 

He let go of her leg, thrusted into her harder, faster, and wrapped his large hand around her neck. Her legs were pressed together tightly, keeping him inside her as she came and cried out her pleasure. With a loud moan, he came, his hot cum spurting deep inside her. 

His thrusts slowly came to a stop and he panted against her neck, exhausted and satisfied. He stayed inside her and pressed soft kisses over her neck and shoulder.

“Been wanting to fill you up with my cum,” he admitted softly, sliding his hands soothingly up and down her sides. “Didn’t think you’d be into it.” He planted a kiss on top of her head and pulled his soft cock out of her. 

“Guess Ken was right about being a ten,” she murmured, turning around on shaky legs to lean against the wall. He snorted and grinned down at her. He reached down and pulled his slacks and underwear back up, shoving his cum covered cock carelessly into his briefs. 

He got down on his knees, snatched her underwear from the floor, but instead of putting them on her, he pulled her hips away from the wall and buried his face into cunt. 

“Jesus Christ,” she gasped, her legs falling open again as he lapped at her entrance, licking away her cum and his own. 

“Still, Dean, darlin’,” he mumbled against her pussy with a laugh. 

“Dean,” she murmured thoughtfully. His nose rubbed gently against her sensitive clit and she whined, letting herself relax as his tongue prodded at her entrance. 

“Come for me again, yeah?” He looked up at her and pushed two fingers into her wet hole. He thumbed at her clit, flicking teasingly side to side, and waited for her to say ‘okay’ before replacing his thumb with his mouth. 

When she orgasmed for the second time, he licked his lips gladly, and stood back up, bringing her in for a kiss. He slipped his tongue into her mouth, allowing her to taste herself. She slid her hands up his bare best, gently scraping his nipples with her nails.

He pulled away and inhaled sharply, then finally said what he’d been wanting to ask since he saw her pick this costume out. “Some time in the future… what would you say to helping me fulfil an old fantasy of mine?” He rubbed his thumb gently over her hipbone and kissed her forehead.  

“You wanna do this again?” She laughed breathlessly, when he lowered his head to bite and tug at her nipples playfully. She pulled his hair so he’d look her in the eyes again. She wasn’t used to being doted on after sex, but it was a nice change.

“Uh, what do you mean?” He stared down at her with confusion, lips wet, red, and in a pout. 

“What do you mean?” She asked, just as confused. The song being blasted turned from a loud one to a soft Christmas one, and he realised she sounded way off. He searched blindly for the light switch in the closet by sliding his hands across the wall. “Here.” She switched the light on and he swallowed when he stared down at the girl who was definitely not Jeralynne. 

“Fuck,” he groaned, smoothing a hand over his hair. “Oh, fuck… no… I’m so… sorry,” he apologised, getting down quickly to help her put her underwear on. “Kind of sorry, the sex was great,” he corrected himself, refusing to look up at her. Even when he got her underwear up all the way and helped her adjust, he looked to the side. 

“What do you mean? What’s wrong?” She searched for his face and then cupped his jaw so he’d look at her. His eyes fluttered, closing to avoid her, but then he opened them, and steeled himself for the truth he was about to tell.  

“I have a girlfriend and you’re both wearing the same costume… and I… I’m sorry for putting you in this position,” he sighed. He took her hand, moving it away from his face, and watched her eyes widen. 

“Uh, easy mistake?” She shrugged, her cheeks turned pink as she pulled her hand out of his grasp. “I don’t know what to say…” she trailed off, quickly tightening the lace of her dress to cover her breasts. 

“They should lower this damn music,” he muttered, reaching down for her Stetson. She laughed softly at that and took it from him, putting it neatly atop her head again. 

“We can forget about this,” she told him, lowering and adjusting the hem of her leather dress. Meanwhile, he started to button his shirt up again. “See ya ‘round, Dean,” she smiled awkwardly and cracked the door open.  

“Wait!” He shouted after her. When she jumped, he cleared his throat and brought his hand awkwardly to the back of his neck. She raised a brow at him and waited for him to speak. “I’m gonna be straight with you right now.. I can’t click with my girlfriend…” He trailed off, watching her shut the door and cross her arms over her chest while chewing her lip. 

“Want some advice or something?” She laughed softly, then reached out with a grimace to touch the red mark on his neck. “I guess I’m a pretty good coach, even if I haven’t dated in a while. You know what they say: All the world’s a stage, and all the men and women merely players… actually, I don’t think that goes well with this situation,” she added distractedly, brows furrowed and a pout on her pretty lips. 

He laughed softly and smiled down at her. He groaned, hating the fact that he was dating someone when he felt something so special right now with someone else. He shook his head and sighed heavily. “No… this is all fucked up, but… when I break up with my girlfriend, wanna… try this out?” 

She tilted her head and bit her lip hesitantly. “How about we just stick together as friends… for the meantime,” she offered. He frowned, felt his stomach sink at the rejection, but she seemed conflicted about everything which soothed his ego. 

“Yeah.. I get it, can’t just jump into one relationship and then another without giving myself time…” he nodded, trying not to appear too dejected. He smiled at her kindly and she smiled shyly in return.

“Sure,” she said nervously. “Uh, good luck,” she whispered, turning around once again to get out. She got out of the room this time, but he grabbed her elbow to stop her once again. 

“Can I get your number?” He asked quietly, hope turned his eyes bright. “It’s cool, if you don’t want to.” She turned around and he let her slide her arm out of his grip, but she only kept her small palm against his calloused one. It felt so right. 

She reached up for his unmade tie and pulled him in for a kiss. It was rough and needy, breathtaking and made his heart nearly burst. He didn’t realise how different it felt to kiss Jeralynne and this cute stranger. She pulled away breathlessly, but he chased her lips and gave her a final peck, wishing it could last forever.

“Fuck, you taste good,” she whispered, leaning her forehead against his. “Anyway, yeah…” she conceded, pulling away from him to hold her hand out. 

“Awesome,” he whispered, unsure as he put his mobile in her hand. She added herself to his contacts and he smiled softly at her name. Now, he knew. 

“We need to figure this out first. Until then, let’s… not have contact,” she added, staring up at him under the white glow of the light. He did the same, trying to memorise the hidden features of the woman who made him feel things he’d never felt before, and was now leaving—possibly forever. 

Talk about wrong place, wrong time, right person.

➥ my love will never die

taglist

@rominaszh @livingdeadmak @lanassmarty @murdockscumsock @zepskies @candy-coated-misery0731 @kellynickelss @stxrgazer03 @epsilonsagittarii @lyarr24 @spnfamily-j2 @jessllianaquilesrolonworld @globetrotter28 @deansbbyx @lickmybawls @jackles010378 @winchstrdean @deanwinchestersgirl87 @the-achievementhunter @deanfreakingwinchester @k-slla @madzzz0797

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© ALL RIGHTS RESERVED TO DEANBRAINROTWRITINGS 

do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or republish my work on another platform

[murasaki-cha]

The Choi trio incorrect quotes

......

Choi Jung Soo: Dear friends, your Christmas gift this year… is me. That’s right, another year of friendship. Your membership has been renewed.

......

Choi Jung Gun: Accidentally indulged in too much ‘free time’, turns out I’ve been reported missing for over six months and presumed dead by most local and national authorities.

......

Choi Han: I was put on this earth to do one thing.

Choi Han: But God of Death never told me what it was so I can do whatever I want.

......

Choi Jung Soo: You know how I roll.

Choi Jung Soo: And I’m not talking about that time I fell into a pile of dung at the foot of a hill.

......

Choi Jung Gun: I’m really glad “fight me” has replaced “sue me” in the common vernacular because I don’t have money, but I do have fists and I am always angry

......

Choi Han: I don't dab. I stab.

......

Choi Jung Soo: So what’s for dinner?

Choi Han, staring at the food they just burnt: Regret.

......

Choi Jung Soo : Hey, do you know anyone who can teach me to play the trumpet?

Choi Han: Why?

Choi Jung Soo : I want to wander around playing it to annoy Choi Jung Gun .

Choi Han: Technically, you don’t actually need to know how to play the trumpet well for that.

Choi Jung Soo : Uncle, you have opened my eyes.

......

Choi Jung Soo: Oh just so you know, it's very muggy outside

Choi Han:

Choi Han: Choi Jung Soo, I swear, if I step outside and all of our mugs are on the front lawn...

Choi Jung Soo: *Sips coffee from bowl*

......

Choi Jung Soo: Do crabs think people walk sideways?

Choi Jung Gun : ...Choi Jung Soo, what the hell.

.......

Choi Jung Soo: What’s up guys? I’m back.

Choi Han: What the- you can’t be here. You’re dead. I literally saw you die.

Choi Jung Soo: Death is a social construct.

.......

Choi Han: The odds of this happening by coincidence are vanishingly small.

Choi Jung Gun : I would say infinitesimally.

Choi Jung Soo : And I'd say teenily-weenily. We all know words.

.......

*Choi Jung Gun and Choi Jung Soo are in a car teetering on the edge of a cliff*

Choi Jung Gun : oh my god, Choi Jung Soo, backwards!

Choi Jung Soo : Really, Choi Jung Gun? I thought I might go forwards into the river, I thought that would be a fun thing to do.

.......

Choi Jung Soo: Naturally, we are on the cutting edge of technology.

Choi Han, amazed: Wow...

Choi Jung Gun, to Choi Han: Well what does that mean?

Choi Han: I don't know.

Choi Han, to Choi Jung Soo: What does that mean?

.......

Choi Jung Gun, to Choi Han: If Choi Jung Soo doesn't say "I'm King of the world" within an hour on that boat, I will give you my next pay check.

Choi Jung Soo, within 5 minutes of getting on the boat: I'M KING OF THE WORLD!!!

.......

Choi Jung Gun: We need a distraction.

Choi Han: Is anyone here good at jumping up and down and making weird noises?

Choi Jung Soo, whispering: My time has come

.......

Choi Jung Soo, holding a python: Guys I impulsively bought a snake, what do I name him

Choi Han: You did WHAT–

Choi Jung Gun: William Snakepeare

.......

Choi Jung Soo : One time I went to hand Choi Han a bowl of soup. I wanted to say “Careful, it’s hot!”, and “Here’s your soup!”, so instead I blurted out “Careful it’s soup.”

.......

Choi Jung Gun : Are you alright with constructive criticism? I don't want to sound mean.

Choi Han: No, go ahead. I want to hear it.

Choi Jung Gun : It sucks.

Choi Han: That's not constructive criticism

......

Choi Han: What happened to Choi Jung Soo?

Choi Jung Gun : They died.

Choi Han: They what?

Choi Jung Gun : They died, but they’re okay.

Choi Han: …Can you please clarify?

Choi Jung Soo : Clarification is for the weak.

......

Choi Jung Soo : Hey Choi Jung Gun, do you have any hobbies?

Choi Jung Gun : Swimming..

Choi Jung Soo : Really? That’s cool. I never expected you to-

Choi Jung Gun : In a pool of self hatred and regret.

......

Choi Han, in a high voice, holding barbie: hey ken! I was thinking about going back to school and starting a career!

Choi Jung Soo, in a deep voice, holding ken: nonsense, barbie. you’re staying home and having my kids

Choi Jung Gun: what the fuck are you guys doing?

Choi Han: playing systemic oppression

.......

Choi Han: What's a word that's a mix between 'sad' and 'mad'

Choi Jung Gun, ex author: Disgruntled, miserable, desolated-

Choi Jung Soo: Smad

[drefear]

Hail to the King

Chapter 1: The Spider Man

Summary: Miguel O’Hara is the head of the biggest mafia family in Nueva York, scaring almost all of its citizens. Except you. And that’s exactly what he needs.

TW: smut, oral (m receiving) cursing, Miguel is a bit of a creep and a dick.

You stood outside the restaurant for a moment, staring at the dark night sky.

What just happened?!

Tears fill your eyes, threatening to spill over as you grind your teeth for a moment, practicing self control over your overwhelming upset and hurt. Was that even legal?

You sniffled and balled your fists. Fuck this guy, with his expensive looking suit and obvious God Complex.

You muttered obscenities as you walked home, not getting in the car and waiting like he ordered you to. Fucking ordered!

Two blocks down and you sighed, getting to the subway and finding a train to take you to your apartment, located in a less-than-safe part of Nueva York. But you didn’t care, you could take care of yourself.

Eyes tired from holding back your need to cry, you walked up a few flights of stairs to your floor, you convinced yourself it was good exercise. Twisting your key in the somewhat broken lock, you pushed into your doorway and slammed it shut behind you with the deadbolt.

That’s when the dam broke and the water works started. You’d gotten so lucky with such a great job, and now some power-drunk prick with a nice face ruined it without a solid reason.

He didn’t like you, so he decided to hire you? What backwards bullshit was that?

Not bothering to take your makeup off, you pulled off your clothing and slumped into bed with no plans of doing anything tomorrow morning. It was going to be a day to process and plan your next move.

Loud banging on your door made you fall out of bed, practically jumping out of your skin as the sudden thunderous sound was terrifying without warning. Grabbing your baseball bat from your coat closet, you tugged your hair into a messy bun and swung the door open.

“You’re late.” The big guy from last night? “And you apparently don’t answer your phone either.” His voice was unamused, blunt, and you didn’t care for it.

“How the fuck did you-“ you yelled, then remembering that apparently he was close to Peter, who had all of your information from hiring you. “You’re a sick fuck, now you’re stalking me?”

“Watch it, I’ll fire you.”

“I don’t wanna work for you, now leave!” You screamed and moved to slam the door, only to be stopped by a large hand holding it back. Miguel opened the door with a swift push and you stumbled backwards, caught off guard and off balance from his strength. It was like he was barely moving a cup, not even moving a muscle.

“I’ve decided that you’re going to work for me, and I always get what I want.” He spoke, stepping inside of your small apartment. “Now get dressed, so you can get to work.”

“Go fuck yourself.” You spit back at him with venom you didn’t know you hate. You hated him. “Go find some other girl to obsess over and creep out.” You continued and swung the bat, him catching the wood and staring down at you.

“Obey me and I’ll reward you generously.”

“I’m not your dog, I don’t need to ‘obey’ you!” You groaned out as you yanked the bat backwards.

“Two hundred and fifty thousand dollars a year plus bonuses when you complete certain tasks.” He spoke almost too fast.

The words passed by your ears in a blurt as white-hot rage filled your mind. The devil and angel on your shoulder fought and you didn’t know which one was fighting for what.

“Fine. Three hundred thousand a year. Bonuses, access to our facilities, a new phone, and an apartment on the west side.” He added.

“What the hell will I be doing? You don’t even know if I’m qualified, or if I’m a normal person. I could be a murderer.”

“That’s doubtful, as you couldn’t even hit me with a bat, and I’ve seen all I needed to. You’re most definitely qualified.” He answered, still offending you in a strange way. “Now get ready. I’m late because of you, and if I weren’t the boss, I’d rat you out.” He fixed his suit and sat in one of your dining chairs, the squeak of its legs making him scrunch his eyebrows in annoyance.

You huffed and moved, accepting that he wasn’t taking no for an answer. “I’ll call the cops.”

“That won’t work. La policía and I have an understanding.” It seemed like nothing was working and he knew it. “Are you done?”

Maybe if you played along for a bit, he’d get the idea and fuck off. Grumbling, you trudged into your bedroom.

“So what will I be doing?” You called to him as you went to your closet and pulled out a random blue dress shirt and black pants.

“You’ll be my right hand. Like an assistant but much more involved. You’ll work closely with my second, Lyla, and head operator, Jess.” He gave a full debriefing as you slipped on the clothes and moved towards the bathroom. “I’ll send a few of my men to help you move tonight, I don’t need you getting jumped out here in the slums.” He spoke with a certain disgust in his tone and you rolled your eyes.

“Your men? Second? Are we in a war or something?” You laughed, but he was quiet. No sense of humor, noted.

“Something like that.” His voice was lower, almost like it was a secret he didn’t want anyone around him to hear except you.

“Not that I care, but why me?” You brushed your teeth and waited for his answer, but nothing came. “Hello?”

“You’ll figure it out soon enough. Just know that I will not accept your refusal. You will work for me.” His speech was almost flattering, if he weren’t so infuriating. You dotted on some makeup and walked out to meet him. Slipping on a pair of low, black heels, he was already at the door. “Let’s go.” He nodded and opened your front door once more before walking ahead of you into the elevator. You hurried behind and almost missed the door as he stuck a hand through to stop them from closing. Your eyes didn’t meet him, avoiding having to thank him for such a small gesture of kindness after all the rudeness you’d endured. “And by the way, they call me Spider Man.” He said calmly as the doors shut and suddenly, your pounding blood was in your ears.

Spider man…?

As in… the most dangerous Mafia leader in Nueva York? The leader of the O’Hara family and the rumored Spider Society? A man infamous for murdering people with his bare hands, constructing some of the greatest hits on politicians and leaders all over the state?

Your body turned cold as you began to sweat. You were in the presence of a man known for being a brutal killer and a money-hungry demon who ruthlessly destroyed lives.

And he wanted you.

The trip to his headquarters was silent, sweating nervously as all of the rumors you’d heard about him came back to you. How he once almost killed a fifteen year old because he “ran out on a tab,” but luckily Peter paid it for the poor boy. Now, apparently, that same boy works for him. Peter told you the story on your first day, how some of the Spider Society frequented their restaurant, but it never occurred to you that this was him.

You remembered Gwen telling you over drinks after your first shift about how a lot of the staff of your restaurant had once been or still were low ranking members of the Society. You had said you just wanted to make your money and get on with your day, to which she laughed and said “that’s how I was too.” You left the conversation there and talked about other things, but now you couldn’t stop repeating her words over and over.

It was like the city was overrun by Spiders, all answering to the Spider Man himself. A man you were currently trapped in a moving vehicle with. A man you knew wouldn’t hesitate to kill you if you even so much as messed up his coffee order.

Nothing felt real as your leg bounced with anxiety. Sure, you’d always been mouthy and stubborn, but the idea that those small flaws could have made you a target for him, it was almost too much to understand.

“Hello?” He called out and you turned your face to him. “Are you listening?”

“Sorry, I was thinking about… what I have to pack tonight.” You lied, to which it was obvious he didn’t believe you, but he ignored it anyway.

“I was saying, when we get there, I have a meeting with a few of my subordinates. I need you to stay and listen. Lyla will be recording the meeting, but you just need hear it and start understanding everything. It won’t be hard, but it might be a lot so pay attention, entiendes?” He spoke and you nodded. “Once the meeting is over, I’ll introduce you to Jess and she’ll give you a tour of the building and your office. You’ll be working a room over from me. While that’s going on, I have an appointment, and once that’s over, I’ll start explaining the rest of your work.” His words felt unreal, like you were having an outer body experience. Nothing could have prepared you for this and now you were thrown into his web with no way out. Was the universe playing some sick joke on you? Throw you into the arms of a cold blooded killer and laugh about it later?

The numbness in your bones began to settle in and you sighed inwardly.

This was going to be a long day.

Walking into a bustling lobby, your eyes were overwhelmed with an excitement you couldn’t help to feel. The smell of clean air, the crisp modern design, everything screamed class and high end. Almost as if this wasn’t a den of crime and murder. Who would let a kingpin rent such a beautiful and upscale building? And didn’t mafia bosses usually do business out of their homes or secret offices hidden behind a bookshelf?

Ok, maybe you watched too many movies…

No, this was the next level of an efficiently run business. Everyone looked focused and intelligent, some seeming like they were educated at an Ivy League college or politically invested.

You followed the largest man and watched as everyone parted to make way for him, scanning him and then dropping their gaze to you.

You, who looked so out of place and childlike next to the refined crowd.

Your name broke you from your trance and you bumped into Miguel, who was no longer walking. “Stop looking around like a lost puppy. I hired you because of your fire and bite, now bring her back or I’ll toss you back out of here on your ass.” His threat was obvious, and you puffed up your chest after he turned around.

He was somewhat right. You belonged here, you got here by accident and that had to count for something. Other people around you seemed like they wanted to be here, strived for their positions and fought to climb up the latter. Meanwhile, you didn’t even want your position and you got it because of your loud mouth. As much as you hated this all, you knew that some of the roughest and cruelest human beings stood in this building, but he decided to pick you.

“But we will need to buy you new clothes if you’re going to work here. I don’t want to see you in anything less than a thousand dollars. Is that clear?” He said as you two walked into the elevator.

“And where am I getting these thousands of dollars from? You got me fired.” You grumbled, annoyed at his arrogance and assumptions.

“I’ll have Lyla put it as a tax write-off and give you a company card. Your limit is fifty thousand, and you’ll only shop at places from a list she’ll give you.” He stared straight ahead as he spoke, barely even seeming like he was speaking to you. What a dick. You rolled your eyes and he glanced downward, a brow quirked upwards. “And save that attitude for the meeting. Everyone here is cut-throat, and you’re here to give them a humbling piece of your mind. I don’t do politically correct-ness. If you think it, say it. The only person you need to answer to is me, and I want you to give some of these sons of bitches a good verbal beat down. If they get out of line, I’ll give them something to really be scared of, so don’t hold back.” His words seemed to hold weight as the elevator doors opened once more and people separated like the Red Sea to let him and you through. Catching up to walk by his side instead of behind him, you kept a straight face and put your shoulders back.

Reaching your new office was exhilarating, seeing as you hated the situation, but began hating everything less and less. Miguel had been right about the meeting, ignoring what everyone else said as you sat and listened to him discuss plans for a new import deal and a possible new business venture. His words were sharp and sliced through everyone in the room, so there wasn’t much room for conversation as most of the people in the room didn’t want to pull the trigger and be the target. You nodded along and made mental notes, adding certain ideas to your cavalry and deciding between when to speak up or not to.

After that, he’d introduced you to Jess and Lyla, who both seemed too kind and cheery to be in this business. How could such funny and smiley women work for a man with so much blood on his hands?

Jess gave you a proper tour as Lyla followed and made snarky comments about certain people, places, and things. Often times, they were about Mr. O’Hara and every time, it made Jess snort with laughter. The three of you talked and laughed, even trading phone numbers with both of them. Lyla excused herself when she was summoned to the fourth floor for a call about a transport, and you and Jess finished the tour back at your office. She showed you briefly how to use your new computer and tablet, both of which had a schedule that you, Lyla, and Mr. O’Hara could see and edit.

“Alright, I have a gynecologist appointment in 30 minutes, so I’ll be gone for the rest of the day, but call me if you have any questions.” She waved and you gave her a goodbye before beginning to type up some of those mental notes from the meeting, sharing them with Miguel’s email to add him in and let him look.

An hour went by and you heard a ding on your tablet, signaling a private meeting in Miguel’s office that had started 20 minutes ago. You rushed, seeing as you didn’t get the notification earlier and now we’re late. Pushing open his office door, you blinked at the sight in front of you and gulped down a new feeling. Dread. Embarrassment. Pure fucking confusion and unshakable mortification.

A woman, thin and blonde, had her back to the door and was kneeling before Miguel. Hands on his thighs as he spread his legs, she bobbed her head up and down as he had both of his arms around the expanse of the couch, head back a bit in enjoyment.

The shock finally settled into humiliation and you felt your stomach lurch with anxiety. He must have heard you step backwards as his eyes opened to stare into yours, an unreadable expression on his face. You shifted your thighs, moving to take another step as your face burned with a blush that could rival most makeup brands. Eyes as wide as saucers, you kept eye contact with him to avoid watching the woman’s mouth move up and down his cock. And he didn’t dare look away either.

He slipped a hand from the back of the couch to her hair and shoved her head down a bit, making her gag, and as the sound reached your ears, you choked a bit in sympathy. He hissed out a soft ‘good girl’ and you felt drool pool on your tongue, closing your mouth before it could drip out. He fucked up into her mouth as his eyes stayed on yours and before you could register it, he was groaning with a tight jaw and finishing. She sputtered as he came down her throat and as the realization of what you’d walked in on had hit you, you’d spun on your heels and slammed the door shut behind you.

Hands shaky, you wobbled back to your own office and sat in your chair, hands holding up your head as if it were too heavy to stay upright on its own.

What the fuck is going on?

Prologue Chapter 2

[elliesflower]

i hate u [2]

pt 1 here

word count; 4.2k (don't ask)

cw; angst, top!abby, bottom!r, fingering (r!receiving), dirty talk, crying

an; hiiii, i need this woman in my bed expeditiously. originally i was gonna make abby a switch in this but then it got too long lmao anyways, enjoy! (and find it on ao3 here)

18+ only, mdni!!!!

kissing abby was nothing like you had imagined—not that you’d imagined kissing her, ever, but it was quite possibly the only feeling that has ever mattered. the unmistakable sound of your lips smacking together was utterly indecent in the quiet of your bedroom, much louder than the ever-present hum of the stadium’s generators.

but she was eager, too eager. you both were, all the years spent avoiding each other, and you could have had this? her hand was sliding down, lightly pulling at the soft hairs at the back of your neck. you gasped, the sensation lighting you on fire, panting into her mouth, you couldn’t help it, you were whining, “abby,” and it was barely a whisper but she heard you—peppering kisses to your top lip, the corner of your mouth, your cheek, down to your jaw, she was nodding in agreement. 

“m’ sorry,” she mumbled into your neck, and you shivered, your body instinctively pressing into hers. her hand came around to rest at your lower back and she pressed you closer still, continuing her exploration of your skin. 

“you said that already,” you breathed, leaning your head back and closing your eyes, because there was no way this was happening, right? you’d wake up tomorrow and be alone in your bed, and this will be nothing more than a passing thought, an insane dream to add to the tally. but it was like abby could read your mind, she was desperate to make you feel just how real this really was, snaking her hand further around your middle so that she was nearly lifting you off the ground. 

your hands flew out to find purchase on her shoulders, nails making crescent indents in her freckled skin. “still sorry,” she said again, punctuating it with a wet kiss to your cheek, before pressing her forehead into yours. she felt sticky with perspiration, her breath was jagged and slow as she squeezed her eyes closed. god, it was impossible to tell what she was thinking as you watched her, your heavy breathing matching hers while you stood there in the middle of your room. in the middle of abby. in the middle of every fucked up thing the two of you have ever said to each other and oh, was it supposed to be this hard?

“do you forgive me?” she asked suddenly, and her eyes opened. you stared at her, feeling her breath fan across your face, your lips tingling almost as much as your brain.

do you forgive her?

you do, you think—but how could you let it come out like this? pressed against her, the weight of her hands at your back making you squirm, your heart and your head and your stomach were all telling you a different lie and you didn’t know who to believe. so you said nothing instead, ignoring the stinging behind your eyes and feverishly pressing your lips against hers once again. 

she tasted sort of like mint, a little bit like guilt, but also like your favorite flavor. she relinquished her hold on your back, moving her hands to rest at your hips, thumbs tracing circles on the delicate skin there—it made you shiver, made you gasp once more into her mouth, and she used your surprise to guide you backwards, walking you to what you could only assume was your bed, messy and unmade from the morning. 

“do you forgive me?” she was asking again, between kisses, between gently helping you lower onto the bed, between a rock and a hard place. you felt like crying, you felt like saying yes, you felt like letting her take you apart, to hell and back, and it sure felt like you’d never needed anything more than you needed her in this exact moment. 

you nodded as abby pulled away, you couldn’t say it out loud, and her lips were glistening and swollen, parted slightly as she sat down on the bed next to you. her braid was messy, baby hairs sticking to her forehead as she leaned toward you. you crossed your legs on the bed, facing her, and swallowed hard, your body fueled with anticipation, with lust, with the filthy thoughts that you couldn’t shake from your mind—not when she was looking at you like…that.

“do you, though?” she asked, placing a hand on your cheek, thumb swiping away a tear you hadn’t even noticed. you nodded fervently, hand reaching up to grab her forearm, holding it in place. “i need to hear you say it.”

you had to close your eyes again, you couldn’t dare to look her in the eye, god, this was embarrassing—she forgave you. just like that. why is it so hard for you? she moved her hand so that it was pinching your chin lightly, tilting your head up so that you’d have to look at her. 

not fair. 

you blinked up at her through your wet lashes, and her thumb reached up to gently pull at your bottom lip, instantly sending heat pooling in your core. you tried not to show it on your face, but abby was searching, fighting to get an answer out of you. 

“i won’t do this with you if you don’t talk to me,” her tone was gentle, but you still felt restless. you were amped up, from the fighting, the tears, the anger, the desire. somehow the feelings were identical—love and hate. the only difference was the circumstance. 

“do what with me?” there went your mouth again, moving before you could think. abby almost smiled, the corner of her mouth twitching ever-so-slightly. her eyes flickered down to your mouth, and then back, and her thumb pressed slightly harder into your lip, prying it open.

“don’t play dumb,” she said, and now, she did smile—but it didn’t seem so nice this time.

“i want this,” you couldn’t help it, you were reaching for her again, grabbing her hand and pulling it into your lap. you intertwined your fingers, looking down at your joined hands, and it didn’t feel real. “i want you.” but you couldn’t look at her still, playing with her hand in yours, heartbeat practically ringing in your ears. 

“yeah?” abby scooted closer to you, slipping her hand out of your grasp, and you looked at her again, eyes dark and full of lust. she leaned down to slip off her own boots, and you took a deep breath, nodding when she looked back up at you. you did want this. you wanted her, in any way she would have you, in any way you could possibly get.

“i forgive you,” you decided, and this time, it was with certainty. your voice unwavering, your eyes clear, your heart full, and that set something in abby on fire. for a split second, her nostrils flared, and then she was on you in an instant, taking you by surprise when she clamored onto the bed, pressing your shoulders back so that you landed on the mattress with a soft grunt. she held herself up with one arm, staring down at you, and you suddenly felt vulnerable all over again, squirming under the scrutiny of her piercing gaze. her face was mere inches away from your own, and you stopped to admire her for a moment, in a way you could never before. sure, you’d looked at her before, but you’ve never really looked at her—not like this.

her pupils were dilated, yet her face held an unusual gentleness. freckles littered her skin like constellations, and you wanted to map them all, wanted to feel her, all of her, so you started to, reaching up and pressing a hand to her face, just like she’d done to you. all her walls were gone, unrestrained, and there was no mistaking her heavy lids and flushed skin for anything other than salacity. the thought alone of what was to come had you pressing your thighs together, once again wondering how she managed to do so much to you without ever saying a single word. 

“you sure about that?” the blonde asked suddenly, her breath ghosting over your face as she spoke. you almost rolled your eyes out of habit, but settled for a scoff instead. of course she knew you were sure—she just couldn’t help herself, could she?

“if you expect me to grovel, you’re kindly mistaken,” you quipped, dropping your hand. 

“last i checked, i kinda feel like i have the upper hand, here,” abby smirked, one of her knees slotting between your legs, and you actually gasped, that motherfucker. the pressure against your core was delicious, albeit there were a few too many layers of clothing in the way. you tried not to let the pleasure show on your face, determined that she couldn’t break you—not now, not after all the time you’ve had to spend proving yourself to her. 

“fuck you, abby,” you said, but this time, you didn’t mean it. and she knew that, smirking down at you as she shifted her leg up higher, silencing what would have been an absolutely embarrassing moan with a kiss. 

it was almost like she couldn’t control herself. she was greedy now, all tongue and teeth, her mouth incessant and wet, saliva connecting your mouths each time she pulled away briefly to allow you to breathe—not that you needed any breath, really you thought you’d be fine if you never breathed on your own again. you wanted her breath, you wanted her—couldn’t help the grinding of your clothed pussy over the expanse of her muscular thigh, couldn’t help the whisper of jesus, fuck- that spilled from your lips when she began to trail her tongue down your neck, to your chest, all the way down until she was lifting your shirt up, helping you wrangle it off, and pressing her mouth onto the bare skin just above your navel.

you looked down at her just as she darted her tongue out to lap gently at your stomach, and you swore you could have cried right then and there, reaching your hand out to grip her hair as you arched into her touch, a shiver shooting down your spine at the ticklish sensation. 

“god, do you ever take out this stupid braid?” you hissed as your fingers got caught in one of the plats, and she had the nerve to laugh, pressing another kiss to your middle before sitting up on her knees, leaving you needy and exposed below her, your nipples hardening against the cool air in the room.

“aw, someone been fantasizing about me with my hair down?” she taunted, but she got the hint, because she took out her hair-tie regardless, sliding it down to her wrist. 

“fuck off,” you retorted, though your body flooded hot at the mockery, partially because yes, she was right, you sometimes did wonder about what she looked like with her hair down—not sure if you’d call that, fantasizing, though—and mostly because abby had always taunted you, fucked around with you, frustrated you to the point of tears, but never in a sexual way. and the thought both terrified and excited you as you envisioned what was to come.

it didn’t really matter right now though, you thought as you sat up on your elbows, because she was undoing her braid, the wavy, golden locks cascading down her shoulders once freed, and you choked back yet another moan at the sight.

“abby…” you breathed, sitting up farther so that you could touch it. the moment had gone soft, like her hair, it was so soft, and smelled like coconut, fuck how have you never seen her with her hair down, after all these years? she was smiling, but you could see the faint blush that was creeping up her neck under your gaze. 

“is my hair down a turn-on for you?”

yes. you swallowed. 

“no.”

she laughed, and you had to fight your own grin, twisting a strand of her hair around your finger. “shut up,” you grumbled, sitting up on your knees to match her, pressing your hands against her chest softly, playing with the neckline of her shirt. you felt her muscles tense under your touch as she gazed down at you, and you were suddenly aware of just how much…larger she was than you. the thought made you shiver, and you were once again aware of the wetness between your legs. 

“can i take this off?” you asked, voice coming out quiet and shy. abby nodded, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. you took a breath, reaching down to help her pull it off, and you could have fainted at the sight. you knew she was built, but fuck. you couldn’t help but reach out and touch her skin, trailing your fingers from the band of her thin white bra down to her navel. 

“bet you’ve been waiting for this, huh?” she asked, abs flexing slightly under the touch of your hand, and no matter how badly you wanted to make some sarcastic comment back, you felt like a person possessed, nodding with enthusiasm, impure thoughts flooding your brain—but another “shut up,” was all you could manage, breathless and benevolent, wanting to feel more of her. 

“should have known,” she spoke lowly now, her tone just this side of nice, “all that teasing, all those mean comments,” she said, and your stomach twisted in anticipation as her eyes narrowed. god, she was looking at you like you were a piece of meat, and no, that shouldn’t have been turning you on even more, but oh, she was guiding you back down to the mattress before fumbling with the button of your jeans. 

“it was just frustration,” abby said, her tone suddenly casual for the extremely sensual way she was undoing your pants.

“the fuck are you talking about, anderson?” you griped, reaching down to help her pull your pants all the way off, and you became acutely aware of how your excitement had seeped through your panties, the sudden rush of air against them making you shiver. 

“i’m saying, i get it now,” she continued, using her big hands to spread your thighs apart, rubbing circles into your skin with her thumbs, observing you. “you were just frustrated over what you couldn’t have.”

“are you fucking kidding m-”

but there was no time to retort, no time to do much of anything before she was pressing a thumb to your thinly veiled clit, causing you to cry out in shock. you couldn’t look at her, you had to throw your head back onto the pillow and cover your eyes in shame, legs closing around her arm instinctively.

“ah ah,” she reprimanded, using a hand to spread your legs back apart, and fuck, she was strong. not that it would have taken much convincing, anyways. “let me see.” her thumb pressed against your sensitive core, making a dull ache in your stomach, making you gasp and moan under her touch. 

“yeah that’s it,” she rasped, and you swear in that moment you were seeing stars, fucking shameful, isn’t it? that she had barely even started to touch you and you were practically gone already. so much for not breaking. “i know this is what you’ve been wanting. what you’ve been needing…”

“abby, please,” please what, you weren’t sure. please stop talking, please keep talking, please don’t fucking stop, and you’d blame it on the desire, the ache to be touched, anything to admit you weren’t coming undone this quickly under her teasing rhythm. 

“such good manners, where have those been?” she was fucking mocking you now, abruptly stopping her ministrations in favor of grabbing the waistband of your underwear, pulling them down with such ease you were worried for a moment they might rip. 

“fuck you,” you managed, and it just didn’t have that same weight to it anymore—not when abby had you like this, naked and breathless and sweaty below her. she smiled at you, and it was wicked, eyes dark and hair wild around her face.

“why don’t you show me some more of those good manners,” she said, eyes transfixed on the wetness between your legs, pushing your thighs apart lightly. “open up.”

somehow, your legs were spreading almost like she’d cast some sort of spell on you, her words going straight to your head and taking over your body, doing anything to make her get closer, to make her touch you, to fuck you. 

“tell me you want this,” her voice was quiet and serious, the sound of it scrambling your brain--her fingers, dancing across your skin, from your hips, to your thighs, squeezing gently at the soft flesh as she locked eyes with you. 

“you gonna make me beg?” you questioned, inhaling sharply at her touch.

“never said that,” she shrugged, abruptly moving her hand and running her index finger down your slit, and it was nearly disgraceful how easily her finger glided, coated with your slick—you gasped at the sensation, gripping the bedsheets in your fists. “just wanna hear you say it.”

“you’re insufferable,” you groaned, closing your eyes as she began stroking her finger agonizingly slowly between your folds, and god you could fucking hear how wet you were. it would have been embarrassing, and perhaps, it was a little bit--but she didn’t need to know that thought was turning you on even more.

“guess i don’t really need to hear it,” abby continued. “i can just tell by how fucking wet you are.” it was like she was in your brain, somehow, your hips were bucking into her touch and shying away at the same time. you looked down your body at her and watched the way she looked at you, with such hunger and intensity, and it took everything in you to hold back, to force yourself to stay away from the edge—no way you’d let her have that satisfaction. 

“still’d be nice,” she pressed on, dipping her finger just slightly into your pussy, drawing a moan from your throat, which you quickly muffled with the back of your hand. 

“abby,” you whispered against your hand, trying to move your hips just so that her finger would slide in--it probably would, you were so fucking eager, and she knew it too, the way she watched your face twist in pleasure, your mouth falling open as she teased your entrance. you chanced a look down at her, and her lips were painted with that smug fucking smirk. 

“you fucking asshole,” you whined when you realized she was serious. “abby, i swear to god-” you were quickly cut off, practically choking on your words as she slid a thick finger inside, curling it just right so that she could pull out of your dripping cunt with an obscene squelching noise.

“what happened to your manners?” she questioned, withdrawing her fingers completely, cocking her head to the side. “c’mon, lemme hear it,” and you were writhing on the bed, heart racing, your breathing labored, stomach twisting in knots, sweat making the bed sheets stick to your backside.

“abby,” you spoke her name, for maybe the hundredth time that night, but you couldn’t help it. fell off your lips like a prayer, tears welling in your eyes as you gazed up at her strong frame, towering over you in the bed. you were at her mercy, whether you liked it or not--but you really did like it, maybe even loved it, your thighs sticky with your juices as you pressed your knees together, desperate for any kind of pressure after she pulled away. 

“it’s just three little words,” abby pressed, smoothing her hands up the expanse of your thighs before dipping her thumb back in between the heat of your legs, the pressure against your sensitive bud making you gasp and open up to allow her better access. “i wanna make you feel good. don’t you want that?” it was accentuated with a languid stroke of her thumb, heavy and demanding, and there was no getting out of this--she had a direct line to your brain, flipping a switch with her touch and making you desperate, making your back arch as you tried to hold on to reality, but it was no use. you wanted her, so badly, too badly, you were breaking and fucking- christ abby, your fingers, you were babbling, practically incoherent, but you wanted her to fuck me, please, i-i want it, please, 

“that’s it, that’s what i thought,” two fingers were slipping inside you with such ease that you felt mortified for a moment, before you were seeing stars, groans and grunts and unintelligible words being fucked out of you. abby’s fingers moved inside you expertly, like she knew you already, and did she just fucking moan? “fucking filthy, god-” she was leaning over you now, hair falling around her face so that it just tickled your belly as she fucked you, taking you apart. her eyes were ablaze, cheeks red as she panted above you, getting off to just the feeling, you couldn’t look at her, your stomach was tightening and oh no, no, no, she’d barely started--your hole was tightening around her fingers, making the drag of her fingers just that much better, or worse, or something else all together. 

“god, you’re fucking tight,” abby groaned as she sped up her fingers, “fucking made for my fingers, taking them so good,” the palm of her hand tapping against your swollen clit with each stroke. you were gone, too gone, but not gone enough to know you were fight fucking there, 

“abby, don’t stop, don’tyoufuckingdarestop,” it was pathetic, really--the tears streaming down your face, the way your hand flew out to grip her wrist, pinning her in place as you felt the world disappearing from your mind, m’gonna- fucking cum, your mouth falling open as you locked eyes with her, watching her arm flex as she brought you to your peak and oh--

the world went white for a moment, but you could feel it at the same time, could feel the way your pussy absolutely drenched abby’s hand, could feel the way she stroked you through it, murmuring praises as she pressed against that sensitive spot, causing your hips to stutter as you came down. 

abby pulled her fingers out of you slowly, and you whimpered, suddenly overcome with a strong feeling of emptiness--both physically and mentally. your breathing was shaky and prominent, brain foggy and body spent. you felt the bed shifting and looked down to see abby with a soft smile on her face, wiping your wetness off onto her pant leg. you quickly averted your eyes, closing them as you pressed your fingertips to your temples, trying to force back whatever emotion was bubbling up at literally the most inconvenient time. 

“hey, what’s going on?” abby’s voice was riddled with concern, and you felt her slide up the bed next to you, close enough that you could feel the heat radiating off her body, her breathing matching yours. you shook your head bashfully, refusing to look at her. there were ten million thoughts running through your mind, but the main one being:

i just let abigail anderson fuck me. 

“m’sorry,” you were apologizing, though you didn’t even know what for, for crying? for ruining the moment? 

“sorry for what?” she was pressing, a hand coming to tug at your wrist. “hey, look at me, please,” there was an edge to her voice, almost desperate. you drew a deep breath, wiping away your tears and turning your head toward her. her eyes were full of worry, brow creased slightly as she watched your face. you looked at her for a moment longer before you couldn’t anymore, diving into her neck, pressing your body against hers with fervor. her skin was hot and sticky with perspiration, her heart beating wildly against your face as you pressed it against her, snaking an arm around her middle.

“this changes everything,” you whispered, almost scared to admit it to yourself. she rubbed a warm hand up and down the bare skin of your back soothingly, but you weren’t expecting the laugh that rumbled from her chest. 

“well, i would sure hope so.”

you pulled back slightly, glaring at her as best as you could with eyes full of tears and your bottom lip quivering. 

“listen,” she smiled softly at you, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “of course this changes everything. but doesn’t it change it for the better?” she asked. “unless you’re trying to tell me i’m a terrible lay,” and you had to laugh, pleasantly subdued, for the moment.

“it is for the better,” you mumbled, trying to make your way back into her neck, but she kept you pinned where she would see your face.  

“then, what’s the problem?”

“change is hard,” you whispered, the tears stinging in your eyes again. this time, she let you back into her warmth, cradling an arm around your head as she stroked your hair gently. the room was on fire, abby’s scent overwhelming you as you felt her breath evening out. 

“i’ll make it easier.”

“how?” you asked, slightly muffled into her skin.

“i just…will.”

and somehow, it sounded like a promise.

[blindmagdalena]

Trick & Treat

18+ 2.1k Dullahan!Homelander x F!Reader. established relationship, body horror, dirty talk, cunnilingus, cream pie. written for monsterlander mania

A world in which all supes are the results of humans experimenting on one another with the blood of Fae from the Seelie Courts. Homelander is one such amalgamation, and as a result of his Gan Ceann blood, he has a particularly neat party trick to show you. 

Homelander always kisses you like he means to devour you. You’re certain he could, especially when your teeth touch the sharp juts of his canines. Never do they seem more like fangs than when he’s dragging them along your throat, licking the salt from your skin with a wicked, hungry noise.

“You said you were going to show me a trick,” you remind him with a giggle, carding your fingers through his hair.

“Mmmm, that I did,” he hums, walking into you, forcing you backwards until the back of your legs bump his bed. You laugh as he gives you a gentle push, sending you down onto the plush bedding with a bounce. “Think you can handle it? It’s an awfully spooky trick,” he warns, those fangs of his flashing in a brilliantly white smile.

Sitting up, you scoot forward on the bed so that you can begin working his belt loose. “I’ve handled everything else you’ve thrown at me, haven’t I?”

Dating Homelander has more or less been a gauntlet of how many strange quirks you can endure from a single partner. You’ve grown accustomed to his fussiness when it comes to the rules of hospitality, his severe aversion to any and all iron, his penchant for milk–he likes it best when you leave it out for him unprompted–and most importantly of all, his deep love of jokes and trickery.

“True,” he supposes, cupping either side of your face. He strokes the rise of your cheeks, smiling down at you with the kind of tenderness that makes your stomach flip.

Returning his smile, you tug at the zipper of his pants, but he stops you. “Ah ah ah. I’ll be the one giving you head tonight, missy. But first,” he says, which tells you he most definitely has a scheme in mind. “Undress for me.”

Huffing a playful breath, you withdraw your hands and instead pull off your own shirt. You shimmy out of your pants and underthings next, leveling Homelander with an expectant look once you’re fully undressed. He lets out a low whistle, leaning down to kiss you. “It’s like a self-opening present. Never gets old,” he says, nipping at your bottom lip.

“What’s the trick?” You ask, bouncing lightly on the bed. 

He laughs. “So impatient! Fine, fine, alright, Christ,” he says, reaching up to the collar of his suit. He unzips a concealed zipper, and tugs the opening loose. Watching you, he places both hands flat over his temples, and gives you one last lingering look, lips curled in a devious grin. “Y’ready?”

Apprehension crawls into your gut and nestles there, your own smile faltering slightly. “Ready…”

You jump when he snaps his head to the side with a strange sound. It almost sounded like the tear of velcro, and before you can question what the hell it was, the wind is knocked completely from you when he lifts his head clean off his neck. No connective tissue, no blood, no gore. He simply holds his head up like a trophy, the bottom of it an empty, black abyss.

“Surprise!” He says, his disembodied head still grinning as he suddenly holds it out to you.

You scream, scrambling back on the bed, your eyes wide. “What the fuck! Oh my god, what the fuck? What the fuck, Homelander!?”

He starts laughing, kneeling on the bed. “Whaaat? I thought you liked tricks,” he says, placing his head on the bed while he adjusts his collar. “Yeah, we don’t advertise this one too much. Freaks people out,” he says, rolling his eyes. It’s beyond surreal to watch him emote like this, his neck cushioned by the bedding while his body continues to operate behind him.

Mouth agape, you continue to stare at him, a morbid curiosity slipping in amidst the horror. “How… How is this possible?”

“Same bullshit that makes flight and laser vision possible,” he says, watching you. It takes you a moment, but beyond the perverse enjoyment of your shock, you’re sure you see a flicker of apprehension in his expression. He’s waiting, you realize.

Waiting to see how you’ll respond. If you’ll reject him.

These are often the stages of your relationship with Homelander. He parts the curtain of himself bit by bit, daring you to flee with each confession about his existence. This is by far the most alarming reveal so far.

“Does it hurt?” You ask, the tension in your body easing.

He looks surprised, as if no one has ever asked him that before. Behind him, his body shrugs. “Uh, nope. Feels like stretching.”

“This is insane,” you say, crawling towards his head. Of all the things supes are capable of, you’ve never seen anything like this.

His smile slowly returns. “Pick me up.”

Your expression blanches. “What?”

“C’mon! Pick me up. Gimme a kiss,” he says, puckering his lips, coaxing you with kissy sounds.

Oh god.

“I…” You sigh. “...Alright, I’ll… Okay. Let me just…” You slip your hands behind his jaw, cupping the back of his neck, using your thumbs to brace him from tipping forward. “Oh, god, okay, I don’t want to drop–your head is really heavy,” you grunt, surprised by the density of it.

“Thirteen pounds, baby,” he confirms proudly.

“I was sure all the hot air would lessen the load,” you say, hefting him up to your eye level.

“Veeery funny,” he drawls. “Kissy time.”

After one last beat of hesitation, you lean in, bringing him close as you do. Closing your eyes, kissing him feels like it always does. His lips are as hungry for yours as ever, coaxing them into a dance. If not for the weight of all thirteen pounds of his head in your hands, you might forget anything was different at all.

Distracted, you don’t notice the bed dip behind you until you feel Homelander’s gloved hands on you, pulling your back to his chest, startling you. “God,” you gasp as you look back, a shiver running up your spine at the image of his headless torso poised behind you. “That is so fucking scary,” you say, returning your gaze to his head in your hands.

“Relax, babe,” he purrs, licking his lips. “You got your trick. It’s only fair you get a treat now.”

“What do you–oh!” You startle at the press of his fingers between your thighs, grip tightening on his skull. “You seriously want to–to fool around like this?” You ask, unable to do anything but fall back against his chest while his fingertips stroke your clit, his other hand sliding up your side, cupping your breast.

“Do I seriously want to eat your pretty pussy while I fuck you? Uh, yeah. I do,” he says, which admittedly lights a spark right at your core. “C’mon, sweetheart. Like this,” he says, taking his hand from your chest to grab a handful of his own hair, pushing your hold on him down, bringing his head between your legs. He nudges your knees further apart with his own, and brings himself close enough to drag his tongue over your clit, glancing up to watch you shiver, the glint in his eyes downright wicked.

“This is so weird,” you say, but it fades off into a moan as his tongue swirls. He only stops so that he can suck his own fingers into his mouth, thoroughly wetting them before he returns to licking your clit while his spit-slick fingers stroke your cunt, rubbing back and forth a moment before slowly sliding in.

Your head falls back against his shoulder, hips jerking. “Oh, ffffuck…”

It’s almost like being in bed with two different people at once. Homelander is as voracious as ever, licking and sucking every drop that spills from you. You feel his tongue lap at where your pussy is stretched around his fingers before dragging back to your clit, lips closing on it while the pointed tip of his tongue swirls.

“That’s it,” he says between the drags of his tongue. “Taste so fuckin’ good, babe. Ready for me?” He asks, slipping his fingers free. You’re not left hanging for long, the wet head of his cock eagerly nudging your pussy. He moans at that first hot press, giving a playful little growl as he nuzzles against your cunt, sucking hungrily at your clit.

“Yeah, yes, yes, m’ready,” you pant, thighs shaking. His head is getting heavy, but his tongue feels too good to let go of, or even adjust. “Don’t stop, keep–keep doing that.” He eagerly complies, humming against you while the head of his cock splits you open in one slow delicious slide.

You’ve had his head between your legs, and you’ve had the fullness of him inside you, but never could you have imagined both at once. The sheer heat of him is overwhelming, and you shudder bodily against him. His arms move to either side of you, and he nudges your hands out of the way, taking his head from them and relieving you of the weight.

“Touch me,” he groans against you, bracing you firmly in place within the bracket of his arms. You do so readily, slipping one hand into his hair while your other falls to his thigh, gripping it tight. He snaps his hips harder, knocking a moan out of you as he picks up a rhythm, his tongue never once faltering. Your breaths grow pitchier the faster he moves, his arms giving you nowhere to squirm, no reprieve while he fucks and devours you to his hearts content.

All you can do is hold on.

“I-I’m gonna come,” you whine, struggling to get the words out with the way each crack of his hips knocks the breath from you, edging you closer and closer to your climax.

“Me too,” he murmurs, though you feel it more than you hear it. “Go ahead, sweetheart. Do it. Wanna taste it when you come on my cock.”

“Fuck, fuck, Homelander, Homelander!” You cry, your nails biting into the fabric of his suit, yanking hard on his hair as your body locks up. The orgasm that hits is torrential, wave after wave of pleasure crashing over you. Your thighs shake, and if not for Homelander’s arms braced on either side of you, holding you tight to his chest, you’d collapse. 

All the while he sucks and licks you through it, fucking greedily into your quivering pussy, gasping hot and wet against your clit as he comes, too, fucking it into you as deep as he can while lapping up whatever spills on his tongue.

You sink back against him, loose-limbed and shuddering. Every pass of his tongue earns a jerky little thrust from you, the wet slide of it creating a burst of little aftershocks of pleasure.

Eventually, overstimulation begins to edge out your enjoyment. “Okay,” you rasp, giving his hair a gentle tug at the same time you pat his thigh. “Okay, good, good boy, that was… Fuck.”

Homelander pulls off of your clit with a pop, humming a pleased little purr. You completely collapse against him as he lifts his arms from you–lifting them over your head like the bars on a rollercoaster–and takes his head with him as he does. You hear a shuffle of fabric, and then an odd kind of crunch not unlike the one you heard when he first popped it off.

“Mmmmm…” He sighs, wrapping his arms around you, nuzzling at your neck. As he tenderly kisses up your neck, it's good to feel his lips where you expect them to be relative to his body again. “God, I’ve been thinkin’ about that for awhile,” he says, nipping playfully at your ear.

“I can confidently say that I had never once considered that,” you say, your words half slurred. You barely feel like your own head is attached after how hard you came.

He laughs, the heat of his breath on your ear giving you goosebumps. “Think you’d do it again?” He asks, voice pitched low and wicked, but you can hear the slight edge to his voice. You’ve been with him long enough to know that he wants to know that you liked it. That you like him. 

You turn to look at him over your shoulder, and you can’t help but smile. You kiss him, licking the shared taste of you both from his lips. He squeezes a little moan out of you, hugging you like he’ll never let you go.

“Yeah,” you say softly, toying with the hair at the nape of his neck. Part of you is surprised you don’t feel some kind of seam. “In a heartbeat.”