#what a mustache twirling moment

[magical-girl-coral]

The only good thing to come out of this nightmare

[fictionadventurer]

Mary, mother of the unborn, pray for us.

Holy Innocents, pray for us.

[alfairy]

If it helps, we still haven't seen Bowser interact with any of the good guys beyond flirting with Luigi

Me every single time without fail when they release a new tv spot where Bowser is flirting with Luigi:

[todayisafridaynight]

INCREDIBLY FUNNY that I refused to settle for just saying "bread" but yes it was those! So in that sense, the lavish bread physics are integral to conveying how important the little things were in getting him through prison. Still, for the sake of the drip…...... perhaps sacrifices are needed...

But yeah, I'm thrilled you noticed those things about the evolution of Jo's design, too! It's super interesting to think about in terms of storytelling, I don't think you're inarticulate in saying that at all. Speaking of, I also just look up "holder" to find prev asks at this point lol

Jo and Ichi's dynamic is also a major topic of interest for me (as we've seen). I think a lot of what's going on with them is definitely some variation of "old habits die hard." That's natural when you form that kind of uneasy coexistence. But like you mentioned, it's also telling that Jo picked up the nickname in the first place, because I went back through the entire script, and it really is the case that only Arakawa, Masato, Jo, and the people who raised Ichi call him that. It's reserved for his family.

I think this line about Aoki (that I completely forgot about before looking at the script again lol) may also shed some light: "A long time ago, I knew him as the young master. He knew me as Ichi." Because they all do that, don't they? Ichi still says Captain, Boss, and Young Master, Jo still says Boss, Ichi, and Young Master, Aoki still says Dad and Ichi.

Even though on paper these relationships should've dissolved with Ichi being expelled, Masato becoming Aoki, and Jo taking over as second patriarch, to one another, they're all still who they used to be. And as an aspect of how they communicate, the "learned language" that forms in families, it stands out when they're all on the same page with the terms they choose to use.

This line from Ichi also stood out to me: "But my aniki taught me different. He said whoever makes the first move is the victor. The guy with steel balls wins." Like, that's clearly Jo, right? For one thing, the "flavor" of aniki is different from Captain, of course--one is directly an appointed post, and one is more open to interpretation--but it also clearly shows that Jo's imparted his "philosophy" to Ichi in some ways.

I think, to a degree, it's one of those holdovers from RGGO that wasn't fully implemented. Because they're more or less the same in RGGO in this regard, but RGGJo does outright say it makes him weirdly happy that Ichi still calls him Captain, so that's a clearer indicator and makes the idea feel more "complete."

With what I said before about their "learned language," too, the Arakawa Family has this way of saying goodbye that's specific to them, and I really miss it in Y7. It is referenced briefly, but it's not a "thing" like it was in RGGO. It's kinda like how The Gang in It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia greet each other with "Hey-ohhh!" LMAO idk but. I Enjoy. But that's also why it stood out to me that LaD8Jo greets Ichi the same way as Y7Jo and RGGJo.

ALSO that is so sick the author of Soliloquy saw your art…… incredible……….. + as an aside since I was reminded, it's very true that sometimes people seem to "fill in the blanks" with tropes, and my favorite is honestly when it's both funny and offensive. There was this whole "phase" (and to everyone's credit it was short-lived) of playing Mine up like this Huge Misogynist because he's not attracted to women, and it's WILD to recognize that he's gay but still pull up homophobic tropes for funsies.

Like I was mad at the time mostly on account of the mischaracterization (because come on, even if you've only seen Y3, he is still uncharacteristically soft with Katase… not that he wasn't INSANE for The Slap, but it also wasn't at all rooted in the same things as say, Nishiki slapping Reina might've been.) But it was funny. Perhaps not in the way it was intended to be, but it was funny. And, you know, that's why I'm happy to stay in my own little corner as well.

You coulda just said bread it's ok 😭 I WAS right though it WAS a carb......

On the subject of language though, it's def something I picked up on (if my last ask wasn't any indication lmao)! It's a real neat detail and something I think helps push that 'family' theme Y7 has going on (or at the very least demonstrates how despite the times changing, they still have those bonds with each other whether they acknowledge it or not), it definitely being a case of picking up a habit/term from family.

About tropes in fan works though, I can't act like I'm guiltless of it LMAO so I don't have too strong of a leg to stand on when it comes to criticizing it (and I can't lie, sometimes I do find playing into the trope funny if it's at least based on something from the text and it's just exaggerated For The Bit yeah). However I do think the strangest thing was linking misogyny and Mine (I made a post rambling about it but deleted it like. .3 seconds later) because nothing he does in either Y3 nor RGGO is explicitly misogynistic? In the slightest? And as we talked about before he's considerably pretty respectful towards women? Again, he surely did slap a little girl, but it wasn't because she was a girl you know (still cringe to do but if we're gonna talk about it let's do it right please and thank you). As you say though, pushing that trope onto Mine just feels like perpetuating the harmful stereotype that gay men hate women, and in cases like that then I can't really take the piss out of it without having a weird taste in my mouth.

[just-absolutely-super]

i wish i could articulate why i love that first encounter with Shademan where he kidnaps Roll

i mean i love it for obvious reasons, but it also feels like your typical action hero scene where the guy goes to save his girl from the eviiiiil villain and i adore it

[marvelfilth]

The mustache

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x f!reader

Warnings: none

Summary: Natasha crashes your date

Masterlist

You let a fake laugh bubble out of your mouth for what feels like a hundredth time this evening. Your date looks smug, her eyes trailing over your form, almost leering. She takes a sip of her wine and licks her lips slowly, daring you to look.

You don't.

You can almost hear Natasha say I told you so.

You clear your throat and take another bite of a perfectly made steak - the only saving grace of this disastrous date.

You mentally cringe, closing your eyes briefly. Objectively, the date is going well - she showed up on time, held the door for you, helped you to your seat and made perfect small talk, occasionally throwing in a joke or two. You can excuse her wandering eyes, knowing you've been throwing mixed signals all evening.

You nod along to whatever story she's telling, smiling and chuckling when it's appropriate. You barely resist the urge to excuse yourself. You chew on your lower lip, wondering how you allowed yourself to get in such a mess.

Your phone chimes once, screen lightning up with a new notification.

Natasha.

Yep. Here's your answer.

You look at your date, hating how different her smile is from your best friends. It's too large, too open and not even half as genuine. Natasha's smiles are small, barely noticeable, but they're enough to make your breath come short.

You sigh. You need to stop comparing your every date to Natasha.

“Do you mind if I take a look? It might be important,” you ask, reaching for your phone. She nods happily, waving the waiter over for another glass of wine.

How bad is it?

You snort, coughing immediately to cover up the sound and reaching for your glass.

Another message appears right in front of your eyes.

That bad?

You choke on your wine, discreetly looking around, but coming up short.

Six o'clock, dumbass.

You wait a moment and look right behind you, mouth falling open when you finally see her.

She's sitting three tables down, wearing your favorite hoodie and a black cap. With sunglasses covering her eyes. In a dimly lit restaurant. What makes you let out a strangled laugh, though, is a perfect old fashioned mustache glued right under her nose. She twirls both ends around her fingers, curling them up, before lowering her glasses and sending you an exaggerated wink.

The best spy in the world, the woman who made entire governments collapse, is sitting right behind you, looking like a child playing dress up.

You whip around, your face red, and wave off your date's concerned look. “I'm alright.”

She nods, all too happy to continue talking about all of the famous people she's met through her job.

You hide your phone under the table and shoot your best friend a text.

You're ridiculous

Her reply comes instantly.

And yet you love me.

Her words hit a little too close to home.

You are hopelessly in love with your best friend.

Another message comes through.

What's wrong?

You frown, eyes darting around. You didn't even do anything to warrant the question.

And don't even try to lie. I can tell something's wrong.

You sigh, tell Natasha everything is fine, and place your phone face down on the table, your date still recounting a story of how she met some actress.

The next half an hour is tense. You can feel Natasha's eyes on you. You can hear her plotting a way to get you out of here, but you know you have to at least try to make it work, if not with… Connie? Courtney? Then with someone else, before you go completely mad.

Your phone rings. You can't stop yourself from picking it up.

“Sorry, it’s an emergency.” Your excuse sounds bad even to your own ears, and you wince when your date pointedly looks away with pursed lips.

“Do you want me to throw her out of the window?” She starts without a preamble. “If not, I have a knife in my boot and you know how good I am with knives.”

“Can't you handle it without me?” You ask, knowing Natasha will play along. Your date reaches for her purse, dejected. Guilt swirls in your chest, and you contemplate your next words. Maybe you should stay and-

“Don't feel bad, she's been looking at the blonde to your right since she came in,” Natasha drawls, “and no, I can't handle it without you. I need you back home.”

You blush, biting on your lower lip.

“I'm sorry, but there's been an-”

“Just go,” your date cuts you off, “I'll handle the bill.” Her eyes are on the blonde girl before she's done speaking, and you leave with your conscience clear.

Natasha catches up to you outside and leads you to her corvette - her sunglasses and cap are gone, but that ridiculous mustache is still in place.

“What do you think?” She asks as she opens the door for you before going around the car and taking a seat behind the wheel. “I like the look.”

You snort and shake your head, amused with your best friend's antics. “It's… something.”

She rolls her eyes, starting the engine. “I know you love it.”

You hum, relaxing against the soft leather, your worries stoved away by Natasha's calming presence.

“Why do you keep going on dates if you hate it so much?” She asks when you reach Compound gates.

You sigh, think of an answer that would get her off your back without making her suspicious.

“I just… I-” you stutter, wincing.

Great.

She raises an eyebrow, looking absolutely ridiculous, but so, so beautiful, it makes your entire chest ache.

The car comes to a stop, and Natasha focuses all of her attention on you.

“I need to get over someone.”

There, you've said it.

“Who?” She asks, and for the first time in all the years you've known her you can't read her at all.

“You don't know them.”

She looks ahead, her jaw clenched tight. “How long?”

You blink away the tears. “A few years.”

She looks down at her lap, her fingers tapping against her thigh. “Who?” She asks again.

“Natasha…”

“Is it Carol?” Her voice is tight, her eyes dart around the street.

“God no,” you chuckle, thinking about your blond friend. Valkyrie would kill you on the spot if you even looked at her the wrong way, not that you're interested anyway. They need to get over themselves and finally admit their feelings to each other. Anyone can see their pining from a mile away.

“Kate?”

You shake your head. “You don't know them.”

“Then tell me. What would it matter?”

“Nat, can we just-”

“Tell me.”

You groan, and turn to open the door, but Natasha’s hand landing on your thigh stops you. You swallow, freezing on the spot.

“Please.”

You close your eyes, bracing yourself for the inevitable. “It's you,” you whisper.

The hand on your thigh clumps tight. “What?”

“It's you,” you repeat, feeling braver after the admission. “Always you.”

She lets out a deep, shaky breath, before reaching for your face with her other hand. “Look at me, please.”

You face her, eyes still closed, a few tears sliding down your cheeks. They're wiped away a moment later, and your face gets enveloped in the softest warmth.

“Open your eyes.”

You swallow, and do as she asked. She looks at you like you're the most precious thing in the world.

“I love you.”

Your heart skips a beat at her words, lips falling open. “What?”

She smiles, her thumb tracing patterns on your wet cheek. “I love you.”

You look at her for a long moment, taking in her features - her forest green eyes, tender and soft, the slope of her nose, so kissable. Your eyes trail lower and then suddenly a loud laugh makes its way out of your chest. You bend, clutching your stomach, happy tears gathering in the corners of your eyes.

Natasha looks delightfully confused.

“I'm sorry, it's just…” you giggle, pointing at her face, “the mustache.”

She groans, tearing it away. “I've been going crazy all this time, you know.”

“Yeah?” You grin, head spinning.

“Yeah,” she says before claiming your lips. She's soft, so soft it makes your toes curl and your chest get warm and fuzzy. The kiss is gentle, loving. You mewl against her, opening your mouth and welcoming her tongue.

The kiss grows heated.

“I,” you gasp between the kisses, “I love you. So much.”

You can feel her blinding smile in the next kiss, and the one that comes after.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Vow 4

Warnings: non/dubcon, arranged marriage, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: mob!August Walker

Summary: your father’s murder leaves you in the hands of a dangerous man.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

August draws you onto the dance floor. He tugs your arm so you swing into him, hitting his chest with an oomph as the first song begins. Your first song. Every girl dreams of this, don’t they? Their wedding day. Their first dance. But what about the father-daughter dance? 

You try not to think of anything but that moment. Not that bloody night, not the vows strangled from your throat, or the incessant pulsing of your heart. Just move your feet, sway, let the melody wrap you up and hold you close. 

Your husband has one hand on your lower back, his other cradles your gloves fingers and guides them onto his shoulder. You tilt your head up to see him. The spark in his blue eyes dispels your breath like fog. 

His hand falls to your hip as he turns you with him, moving smoothly around the floor, before all those watching eyes. Beneath the music is a drawn hush. His audience, his people, watch their new king take his crown jewel. 

His hand slips down and brushes the curve of your ass. He pulls you flush to him and growls. You squeak in surprise. It is another show of his dominance. Another proclamation of his power. If your father was alive, he would have his hands cut off but your father is dead and his hand remains as it is. 

“You are not his daughter anymore, you are my wife,” August intones under his breath. 

“Yes,” agree in a hollow gulp. 

“So smile,” he taunts. “Aren’t you happy to have a husband?” 

“Yes,” you repeat again. 

“You don’t seem it,” he challenges. 

You twitch. You make yourself lean into him. You drag one hand from his shoulder and to his chest. You feel the muscle beneath and your chest thrums. You feel his power nested beneath his suit. His cheek dimples, he’s pleased at the play of fear on your face. 

You make yourself smile and run your hand up to his collar and tickle along his neck. His throat bobs and you flutter over the short stubble already poking through his skin. He leans his head down and you nearly trip over yourself as you strain to kiss him. 

He hums, still moving you in his thrall, and his tongue flits over your lip. You let him in. He twirls you and bends you backward as he stills your feet. He deepens the kiss as he keeps you off kilter. The crowd jeers and eggs him on, shattering the brittle tension. 

He parts and puts you back on your feet. He spins you away and pulls you back in. You are weak to his whim. You are his wife, his possession.  

As he turns you, you see your mother. She watches in sombre stillness. She sits as others stands to watch, others joining the fun with their partners. 

Your hand drifts down and you keep it high on August’s shoulder as your other nestles into his side beneath his jacket. He purrs, content at your submission. He kneads your ass and breathes over your hair and veil. He toys with it as it brushes his knuckles. 

“Keep this on tonight,” he growls. 

Tonight. 

You quiver at the thought. This is only the beginning. That small hole in the back of your mind splits into a gaping tear and your fear floods in. 

“Your father always was greedy but I daresay his worst offense was keeping you locked up,” he snarls and kisses your forehead, the trim of his mustache bristling along your hairline. 

You shiver and curl your fingers against him. You cling to him as your legs threaten to give out. Your family mantle is suddenly a chain around your neck. The iron ball at the end will only drag you down. 

He nuzzles your hair, “will you shake when I have you under me?” 

You whimper, “please.” 

“Denial cannot protect you. It didn’t protect him,” he growls. “I could drag you out right now and fuck you over a toilet. Hell, I could throw you down on this floor and throw your skirts up and they would cheer me on. Every last one of them.” 

Terror surges through you and you pull back to look him in the face. To this point, he’s been patient. Stony and strict but not unkind. You can see clearly then what makes him so dangerous. His boldness. His shamelessness. His iron determination. 

“Yes, I know. I know you could. You can,” you eke out. “But I am being good. Sir, August, why would you be cruel?” 

He smirks, “I’m not, am I? I’m reminding you that I can, if you choose to stoke it.” 

“I understand,” you quaver and rub his chest appeasingly. Instinctively as you try to calm this sudden rise in him. “I can be good.” 

“For me or to me?” He wonders. 

“For-- to—Both. Whatever you will have of me,” you plead as you rub beneath his jacket. “Tell me what you want?” 

He stares down at you. His eyes sparkle and the corners of his lips tweak. He brings his knuckles up to pet your cheek. He considers you then stops, his hand on your hip. 

“It is time,” he booms out and signals to someone unseen. 

You turn to search for whoever it is. From your other side, a man approaches with a chair. You spin back and your mother stands. Her hands are fists. Her face is steel. She watches as her shame threatens to boil over. 

August puts you in the chair by your shoulders. You look around as the dancers still and circle around. Those still at their table angle around to see.  

You squirm as your husband gets to his knees. He puts his hands behind his back as Margot comes forward to lift your skirts. You stifle a yelp as she throws them over his head and he bows to drag his lips along your ankle. 

You twitch as he creeps up your stocking. You know what this is. You’ve been to many weddings. You always found the display terribly humiliating.  

His breath plumes over your leg as he reaches your thigh and he pinches you with his teeth. You cry out and your hands are grabbed before you can swat at your dress. Theo pulls your wrists behind you and you writhe as August continues his mission beneath the layers of tulle. 

His nose brushes along your leg and he kisses the tender flesh as you quiver. He nips and licks in a faux search for your garter, only biting down on it as you whine in discomfort. He tugs it down slowly as his growl rumbles against you. 

He brings it down the length of your leg and the skirts fall away from his head as he sits back on his heels. He has the lace in his teeth as his hair is askew from his plunge beneath the fabric. He grabs the garter and waves it at the ground as he stands and chortles in victory. You’re released and fix your skirts frantically. 

“Ahhh,” he scrunches it to his nose and inhales, “I can smell it. My wife is ready.” He shakes the garter in his fist and the crowd laughs, “aren’t you?” 

He turns to you and scoops you up. You cry out as he brings you against his chest. He sighs and looks around at the crowd; at his empire. 

“To the boss!” Theo calls out as he raises a glass and the entire room mirrors him in anointing their new king. 

[machveil]

Wait but continuing that loser!konig and overstimulation when his only job was to not cum before you did-

That part you wrote(which absolutely made me feral btw you write so well I adore scrounging your blog) about madly bucking his hips and don't mind if he stills for a moment??? Yeah that.

So konig has been unpurposefully edging you unknowingly because whenever you're so close to that orgasm he stilled and spilled his first and you're whining- what he didn't know was you were whining from his accidental edging session over and over again

YUP haha I felt very evil writing that, sat there twirling my fake mustache - laughing and kicking my legs like a villain

CW: Loser!König, overstimulation, edging, no condom (wrap it before you tap it)

Loser!König who really doesn’t mean to edge and overstimulate you, he just can’t help but cum when he’s got you limp on his chest, whining and moaning next to his ear. if anything, it’s really your fault, Liebling, you shouldn’t have tied his wrists behind his back! if it were up to König his hands would be gripping the fat of your hips and bouncing you on his cock while he cums, fucking himself through his orgasm and helping you towards yours

no, instead Loser!König lets out a choked sob as he cums, hips stilling and legs twitching as babbles out another slew of apologies. you were so close this time too, nearly pushed over that blissful edge before he came to a stop. you can feel him leaking out of you, warmth seeping down your thighs as you hiccup - your third ruined orgasm. “I’m sorry— Bitte— Bitte, lass mich es nochmal versuchen.”, his voice is strained as he thrusts up into you again, a weak stutter of his hips before his pace picks up again

it almost feels like too much, receiving a harsh fucking from your weepy mess of a man, but never reaching your peak. your legs feel like jelly at this point despite Loser!König doing all the work. you can’t help but cry out, desperate, hot tears trailing down your cheeks and pooling on his shoulder, “Kö— König, baby, please—“, slurred words tumbling from your lips as he grunts and moans. it’s nearly heartbreaking hearing him stutter out pitiful little ‘I know’s and ‘I’m sorry’s. he wanted so badly to be good for you and he’s messed it all up, a combination or guilt and pleasure bubbling in his gut again

Loser!König who doesn’t realize you’d reached behind him to untie his wrists — only gasping when you manhandle his hands to rest on your hips. you were probably better off letting him edge you accidentally, as soon as his palms meet your hips he’s got them in a bruising grip, thanking you for letting him touch you. his sorries immediately turning into poorly spoken praise and mumbled ‘Ich liebe dich’s. finally, your well-deserved orgasm has you crying out into the crook of his neck, König’s pace faltering as you squeeze him so tightly

it would have been the perfect end to the session, getting your sweet release and passing out next to Loser!König… it would have been. choked little gasp leaving your lips, König doesn’t let up, hands making you meet his harsh thrusts as you whine. “Another— I’m sorry, you deserve another one— Gib mir noch einen, Schatz.”, with his hands free now, it’s only right to work you up to another orgasm, right?

[teddybeartoji]

彡 HE'S ANNOYING AND BEAUTIFUL AND HE'S GOING TO RUIN YOUR FUCKING DAY

☆. contains: satoru gojo x gn!reader; con-artists au, crack, he's stupid, he also has a massive fucking crush on you (and you're no better btw), reader smokes a cigarette gasp!! oh and reader is wearing a suit wc: 2.2k

+ a few hours later...

the spring sun warms your skin as sit on a little bench on top of the hill that overlooks your destination. a castle – it's fancy, fanciest you've ever seen. it's fucking massive and you can't help but wonder, how it would feel to sprint through the long beautiful hallways of the place...

way too many super cars are lined up in front of it and their various colors are making your eyes hurt. people in stunning dresses and equally stunning suits spill out of the machines and they laugh and roar, smoke blowing from their noses and lips as they flex their expensive pipes and cigarette holders. bald men with terrible mustaches flood your vision and you decide that you've had enough for the moment and let your head fall back. this is your last chance to recharge before the work begins.

digging in your inner suit pocket, you pull out a silver cigarette case with a beautiful engraving on it. memories reside in the little crevices of the art and the thoughts make a sentimental (albeit an annoying one. you'd never do this in front of him.) smile tug at the corners of your lips. the tiny machine was part of a set, a gift for you.

you try not to think about that for too long.

patting the side of your upper thigh, you dig out a lighter. it's just a plastic one; it's old as hell and it has definitely seen better days. but despite its tired look, you still consider it a friend, a partner, a helping hand.

you grab a cig from the box and place it between your lips before pocket the case again. the lighter is warm in your hands as you stare at the design on it. swirls and lines run all across the silver, dancing and merging together. a lot of memories are buried in the cracks of them and a sentimental smile tugs on the corners of your lips.

click! click! click!

perhaps today is the day you'll lay it to rest. there's no fire, no heat, but you're not mad. the cigarette hangs from your lips and you let out a sigh. you lean back onto your hand and close your eyes; if you won't get your final energy boost from nicotine, the sun will have to do it.

a gust of wind brushes over your skin, it cards through your hair and you feel alive. the laughter from down below finds it way up to you and it makes you crack a grin yourself – these rich pricks won't know what hit them. this'll be an easy job, no sweat. in and out, it'll only take a few hours tops if everything goes without a hitc—

click!

time slows.

cracking open an eye, you watch the stick catch fire.

engravings in silver – a perfect match to the ones on the case that's hiding comfortably in your chest pocket. right beside your heart. pale, slender fingers and manicured nails, a perfectly fitted sleeve – it's him. trailing up his arm with your eye, his cologne fills your nostrils and you realize that he's standing way closer than you thought.

it takes a mere two seconds and you craning your neck to meet his eyes. they match the clear sky, the only difference being that while birds twirl and dance in the blue ocean up above your heads, little stars twinkle in his.

satoru gojo.

and his stupid fucking smile.

you hate him.

he snaps the little silver machine shut before placing it back into his pocket with one swift move. his pearly white teeth shine under the blinding sun and the sight of his dimples makes your stomach churn. silly butterflies.

staring up at him, you hollow your cheeks and breathe in the smoke. it travels through your mouth and makes its way deep into your lungs. he's patient. the grey fog fills your organs and you let it simmer before letting out out again. you blow it at him but he doesn't budge; your eyes look so pretty in this light. he watches your lips curl into a pretty little smirk and then he's already being blessed with your saccharine voice. "gojo."

he does a dramatic bow as he stands before you – his one hand behind his back and the other on his heart. "my beloved."

the hum and the eye roll you award him with warm his insides. he straightens his spine and locks both his hands behind him, almost making him look like an innocent, virtuous person. it's that charming smile of his that's able to save him from just about everything. his ability to bare his teeth in the most endearing way pisses you off.

it really fucking does.

he twirls on his heel and the gentle gust of wind ruffles his snowy hair. he eyes the castle below and the little ant-people that buzz in front of it.

"you got an invite?" he asks in a sing-song voice. he seems excited. that's a bad thing for you. he will ruin your plans, you already know it.

"i did not."

you don't need to see his face to know that his smile has stretched even wider. you hate it. he quirps a little "hm" before spinning back around. his hand dips into his inner suit pocket and returns with an ivory envelope. his eyelashes flutter shut as he dramatically fans his face with it.

you hate him.

"that's too bad. they have this cool new system – they give you a keycard. they check it at the door, of course, but after that you can just go wild with it." he paces around in front of you while you just inhale the smoke back into your lungs as a way to alleviate the fact that he's going to ramble about a fucking key card. "there are tiers, you see. the smaller guys just get to use it as the invite while others..."

he turns to you with a big grin. "can actually open some super secret doors."

he flicks the envelope just to show it off some more and you wish you could suffocate him with the cigarette smoke. or maybe you should just push him off this damn hill instead.

"not that you would know anything about it though..." his words trail off as his eyes snake their way up from the ground and to your pretty face.

"and you're one of the big guys then, i presume?"

your remark is like water off a duck's back. it's the exact opposite actually – it only eggs him on. he watches the smoke slip from between your lips as you try to bite him back, he watches your chest fall; you look handsome in your suit. he's never seen you in an outfit like this - sure, he's seen you in some fancy fits before but this... takes the crown for sure.

you almost look like you belong here, though he skeptical on whether you'd think of that as a compliment or not. he doesn't say it, opting for something else.

"you look good– "

"you look good."

damn.

you blink up at him, he blinks down on you. he fiddles with his fingers behind his back and he bites back the comment he wants to make about you complimenting him, about you two speaking at the same time. something about being partners, something-something.

he does look good.

he's also wearing a gorgeous black suit on top of a pearly white shirt and a matching black bowtie adorns his neck, and it looks like he did try to style his hair just a little, but you know him – you know he likes it when the wind messes it up. he always says it makes him look more rugged.

you assume he doesn't know what the word means.

silence falls upon the two of you, engulfing you in this comfortable little bubble. your lips wrap around the cigarette again and he pockets the envelope in his hand.

"y'think so?"

he asks for praise so nonchalantly that you almost give in. "...maybe."

satoru's chest puff up and his eyes light up even more than ever – you regret your decision to tell him that. his lips part but you don't give him a chance to tease you any further.

you shake the cigarette butt before pushing yourself off the bench. satoru observes you, always so excited about everything you do. he can't tear his eyes from you. placing the cig back between your lips, you approach the man in front of you in a confident stride.

without locking eyes with him, you take your place a little bit too close in front of him and casually reach for his tie. satoru's breath hitches at the sudden proximity but he doesn't back away. you tug at the edges of it, your eyebrows furrowing in the process. you look cute, all concentrated and everything. his smile makes its way back onto his lips as he stares at you and his hands twitch at his sides.

smoke dances in the air as you take your time to fix his tie; the sun melts the two of you together as the silence settles around you again. the breeze plays with his hair some more, it grazes the apples of your cheeks and it's refreshing. this feels like the old times.

"smoking kills, you know."

his voice is barely above a whisper and you snort at him. "so do cars, dipshit."

"hm, douche."

you send a sharp glare at him and he doesn't even try to hold his ever-growing grin. the stupid fucking butterflies in your stomach are making you sick. he's about to say something ridiculous again, so you rush to give his earlobe a gentle-not-so-gentle tug. you laugh at the way he winces and the way his skin turns a dark shade of pink in a matter of seconds; it manages to bloom all over his ears and the apples of his cheeks before he decides to swat your hand away.

your eyes and the tingling pain in his ear are enough to distract him from your wandering hands. skilled fingers dip under the front of his suit jacket as you lean forward to whisper to him. "it's touché."

his eyes glue themselves onto the cigarette in your mouth, between your pretty lips, giving you more than enough time to swipe the envelope from his chest pocket with ease.

"right..."

dusting off some imaginary dust from his shoulder, you cock your head to the side and take the cigarette from your lips while giving him another good look. how could you not? despite his god-awful personality and his tendency to screw up every single one of your plans in one way or another – he's the most beautiful man you've ever seen. from this angle you could count the freckles that are scattered across his nose and cheeks, hell – you could count his damn eyelashes if you really wanted to.

(you kind of do.)

while he's being bewitched by you and your eyes and your perfume and the damn smoking stick in your hand, you hide the envelope behind your back. you make use of the promiximity between you two, your own body concealing the movement of you tucking the thing under your own suit jacket and into the waistband of your pants. you're here to steal afterall.

satoru rubs his ear and feigns a pout. it's the fakest one you've seen yet, but then a dopey smile makes it's way onto his lips and for a second you think that your plan didn't work, that he felt it, that he saw it—

"you know... if you wanted satoru to just get you an invite, you should've just said so, sweetheart."

...

you stare at him with a blank face and he shines right back at you. he plucks the cigarette from your hand and throws it to the ground, stomping on the thing, he puts out the light with the heel of his foot.

"but... since you didn't ask for it, since you didn't ask for satoru's help... you'll have to find your own way in, yeah?" he's way too smug, too arrongant and the only thing that's making you feel better is the thought of him being shut out from the party because he doesn't have the invite. anymore.

"stop referring to yourself in third person, it makes you look stupid."

"you don't think i look stupid in the first place then?"

.............

you can't wait for this day to be over.

"alright. go now. run along, little prince." you give his shoulder a shove but he refuses to back away, leaning closer a little instead.

"are you gonna be okay out here, hm? all alone? no keycard or nothing?"

even his breath smells good. you want to punch him.

"don't worry about me, gojo. i'm sure i'll figure something out."

"ahh! you always do! and that's why you're the greatest, baby!" wincing at the volume of his tone, you clench your jaw and press your teeth together. satoru loves it when you do that. "don't take too long, okay? i'll miss you."

he offers you another fake pout and turns around on his heel, but not before giving you a wink. he looks over his shoulder for the last time and...

"don't forget to throw away the cig! littering isn't sexy!"

he's so overbearingly annoying and he will so ruin your fucking plans.

[r3starttt]

HELL IS A TEENAGE GIRL

PAIRING: Jennifer's body (Abby Anderson x reader)

CW: blood. murdering-killing. vomit. sub! abby. oral. Owen!!!!!

AN: this goes for my beautiful amazing talented gorgeous @clairoscharm . Ieally hope u like at least the beggining and I'm sorry for making it SO rushed!!! u deserve better

TAGLIST | KINKTOBER: @s4pphic-myth @levilvrr @girlkisser168 @bilsvlt @tlouloser @marsworlddd @softlikesilk-chiffon @grey-jedi12 @slut4ellienabby @roos4lm4 @elliezlils11utt @1-800-fantasy @ellieswifee232 @roos4lm4 @rob1nbuckl3ys @abbys-muscles @0court @dinakisser @lott6i @imagoddess1 @viajeros--sin--destino | ABBY: @imdrowningindispair @rkivedpages @aouiaa @grey-jedi12 @bruhhtsukjf @twopeoplee @wastdstime @softlikesilk-chiffon @grey-jedi12 @slut4ellienabby @0court

People always found it a bit of a joke that a girl like you—pretty, effortlessly charming, and so untouchable—would hang around with someone like Abby Anderson. The class nerd. The lesbian with a mile-long case of compulsory heterosexuality and a fake boyfriend. Everyone knew he was just there to shield her from the obvious: the way her eyes lit up like a puppy every time she saw you cheering.

They didn’t understand what you saw in her, how her soft sweaters would end up around your shoulders when your mom forgot to pick you up in the raniest day of sixth grade, or how her glasses would fog up every time you hugged her just a little too long.

They also didn’t remember that day in fourth grade when you were playing boyfriend and girlfriend—naturally, she was your girl—and she punched a boy who interrupted your first kiss just to mock you both. His mom was more furious about the kiss than his kid falling down the slide.

She would always be your girl. And you would always be hers, or so you've dreamed of.

Everything really began with that stupid cross scrawled across the back of your hand, a sort of ticket to a "club" full of sleazy mustache-twirling creeps and horny teenage boys. You were in it for the experience, of course. Abby, ever loyal, tagged along as usual.

The night started with you picking her up from another one of her fake boyfriend's dates. Fifth time that week. You never liked Owen. He was basic—worn-out jeans, some boring neutral colored shirt—and he couldn’t wait to ditch his belt the moment he stepped foot in Abby’s meticulously organized, nerdy little room. He didn't care about her classical music or her favorite bands posters or her books or her theories or her love for anything.

But you did.

You knew boys; Abby didn’t.

And every time you saw him with her, something in you twisted with jealousy—he wanted her, and he got her too easily.

Abby was something with plenty potential, naturally smart- a genius to your eyes. She had good grades, good money, a surgeon as a dad who was single and overworked himself- like father, like daughter. She folded her clothes neatly and organized them by color, she chose what she would wear a day before, she would have a schedule for everything- you always present. Her hair down made her prettier than that gentle braid she'd wear every day, and whenever she did her lashes and added that extra gloss, her face looked so pretty, and her glasses were that perfect extra she needed to be perfect for your eyes.

And then there was this boy, horny and getting a boner just by the sight of Abby's bra. You despised Abby for allowing such lame boy into her perfect life.

That night, though, it was you who had your eyes on someone else—a band, well, a man. Not for the music, but for the thrill. Older guys, somewhat famous, the kind that would treat you like you were stupid.

And the idea of it had your heart racing.

Hormones, maybe. The chance to see if anyone could ever make you feel the way Abby did. But with a dick and the creepy beard- like Abby called it.

She warned you not to, you just didn’t listen but laughed, batting your lashes, your glossy lips flashing in that ridiculous puffy white jacket.

You were invincible, right?

Wrong.

It all spiraled faster than you could process. The screaming, the snapping bones, the music turning into something warped and twisted. The man—one of those rockstars you thought would show you a good time—stared at you, as if he was just as shocked by what was happening as you were.

You stood there, frozen, as if it was all some bad dream.

Then, suddenly, you were outside, Abby’s hands gripping your waist, trying to lead you away as your broken heels gave out beneath you. You felt like you were burning from the inside, your mind fuzzy from the bartender’s “gift”—a drink served with a wink after you'd playfully pressed your arms against your breasts, just a little- enough to show them off for a pretty girl discount.

You collapsed, feeling stupid and weak, like you were drugged. Abby’s warm hands pressed against your face, and her lips repeated something that must've been your name, but before you could focus on her, you heard that man’s voice—the same man you’d dreamt about for maybe a day or two—crooning, “Let’s go to my van.”

Abby’s "no" cut through the haze, repeated over and over. But it didn’t matter. He shoved another drink into your mouth, the liquid spilling over your glossy lips, staining the glass. Abby’s glasses caught the reflection of the chaos behind you, the carnage inside, but no one seemed to notice.

Then you were in his van. Skinny, twisted, looking like something straight out of a nightmare. To Abby, you were gone—like a corpse. He dragged you in with a grip too tight on your waist, and just like that, the door slammed shut.

By the time they were halfway there, you were eerily quiet. Your glossy eyes mirrored the messy streaks of lip gloss now smeared up your cheeks, the result of tears and desperation. The skin around your nails was raw and bleeding, torn from how furiously you’d been scratching at yourself, trying to ground your fear.

"Are you guys like... rapists or something?" Your voice came out small, weak. You were just a girl, after all. You’d never expected a bunch of men to kidnap you, let alone drag you somewhere far away. But if you were about to die, you’d rather it be with Abby.

One of them scoffed, turning in his seat to mutter to the driver. "God, man, I hate girls." The guy riding shotgun glanced back at you, his face almost as pale as yours. He looked scared—like he hadn’t signed up for this. "Are you even sure she’s a virgin?" he asked, nervousness creeping into his voice.

The driver shot him a glare. "Yes, I’m sure, I don’t—"

"I’ve never—" you blurted out, your voice cracking as you struggled to hold back sobs. "You should, uh... find someone who knows what they’re doing. Someone who’s good at it." Your words were stumbling over themselves, trying to buy time, to make them think twice. After all those boys and awkward make-out sessions, you’d never gone further. It scared you. And deep down, you’d always hoped the first time would be with someone who mattered—someone with pretty lashes like Abby, eyes like Abby, a body like hers, a voice like hers. You dreamed about it being her.

"See? Told you she’s a virgin. Y’all owe me a beer," the driver said smugly, ignoring the panic in your voice.

They kept shoving beers at you, forcing you to drink. Soon, everything started to blur—the dark van, the Satanic symbols plastered on the walls, the smell of cheap booze and cigarettes. Your mind drifted as they dragged you out, the cold night air biting at your skin. You recognized the place. The falls—the very place that gave your town its name. Were you really going to die here?

"We gather tonight to sacrifice the body of..." One of the men started speaking, his voice dripping with dark ritualistic glee. You barely heard him over your own muffled screams. The ropes they’d tied around you were crude, hastily knotted, biting into your skin.

You fought hard, thrashing against the bonds, trying to kick at them. Your thighs were burning, knees scraped raw as they shoved you forward. Your heels had long since fallen off, lost somewhere in the dirt.

"Oh my god, shut the fuck up," the man you thought was your dream sneered. The same man you’d been stupid enough to trust just hours ago. He grabbed your face roughly, forcing you to look at him. "Maybe we’ll write a song about you," he teased, pressing a mocking kiss to your forehead before shoving you toward the edge of the falls. The roar of the water was deafening, mist from the cascade sparkling in the air around them. Everything about it was twisted, surreal.

"With the deepest malice, we deliver this virgin sacrifice..." The knife came next. Cold, sharp, unforgiving. It tore through you over and over, ice and fire mingling in your veins. You couldn’t make sense of the pain—sometimes it burned, sometimes it was numb, like your body was trying to shut down. You wanted to rip your heart out just to make it stop. The agony tore your screams from your throat, desperate cries for them to stop.

Was Abby okay?

-

Owen's words were right that night. Who could care about you and those assholes with they stupid looks and voices and music when people just got burned alive.

But for Abby it was just a stupid jealous rambling. He didn't like you, his argument? You're a bad influence for her, telling her to prioritize girls night instead of him, or teaching her to put on more makeup for their dates which he had to pretend to notice. Because you made her laugh louder than anyone else and she would get called out during classes. Because you brought the best from her, a best he couldn’t.

"No, no. I'm telling you- Owen! fuck! listen, please-" any other argument she was trying to make it have sense for his boyfriend completely shushed on her brain as a loudness interrupted behind her. It was something falling- maybe someone. Steps and a quiet growl what she could manage to understand in the few seconds she was given to turn around and press the phone against her chest.

You were covered in blood, your pretty pink tights broken. Heels not even on. That pretty white on your jacket covered by a worrying amount of blood, ripped. Teeth tainted in blood and dark eyes. Your pretty make up ruined, mascara as if you'd cried and those glossy lips she adored to feel on her cheek each day you greeted her first thing morning now blurred and melt into a disgusting mix of drool and blood.

Owen's voice long forgotten as you were there. She spoke your name many times, you simply got on your knees, opening her fridge and getting out a random fried chicken her dad had bought. It smelled putrid but you could not care any less.

Her shaky hands cleaned her tears off, adjusting her glasses as she kneeled on your side, patting your back.

You shouted at her, an inhuman sound leaving your mouth followed by dark vomit. It was like a weird heavy oil.

She didn't understand that day but you did.

Your last time alive was for and to her, trying to escape into the safe of her home and her arms but unable to as you were far gone and replaced by a weird entity. A sickness.

She ran away, thinking on who to call or what to do. You knew she wouldn't but the thing inside you didn't.

Abby Anderson wouldn't acuse you to the police or try to escape or do anything at all that could hurt you or put you in any danger, she just wanted to help you.

Your force was scary, stupid against her.

You pinned her against the wall, her lower back hitting the furniture on her entrance and your hand breaking the glass of her pretty picture from earlier that grade. Your hands bleeding more and more and her pretty clothes earlier chosen just for you to see and admire now drenched in your same blood and dirt.

"Are you scared?" You pressed your lips against her neck, your breath hovering intense against her flesh. She was trembling, crying. You felt the nod on her face and just there your dirty nails cradled her face. You just looked at her, a lost look on both of your faces. The salt of her tears burned on your skin, but no inch of skin flinched.

She tried to call your name but you just leaned forward again, biting at the little necklace on her neck with her initial into a pretty gold. Abby sobbed- Your Abigail, the strongest person you've met was heart broken, and terrified.

Her skin was salty and her perfume was comforting, it almost made you bite. But you didn't, you stepped back and freeing her face, you pressed a gentle kiss on her lips. She hated blood, but she took it.

And just like that she spent all night with sobbing eyes and fogged glasses. Her nails dirty in whatever dark vomit you've displayed on her floor.

-

"Abigail" your acute usual morning greeting made her blink for once this morning. Her usual perfect lips now chapped. She felt your bracelets hit around her neck before your gloss spread on her cheeks. "You're alright." she mumbled.

"yeah...? why wouldn't I be." Your eyes rolled as you put the small notebook and a pen over the shared bench. "Yesterday at my house-"

"Oh my god! Abby you overreact all the time- Remember you thought there was an earthquake and it was just those fat kids playing?" you giggled, the loud of your voice no longer shushed by her as she was in pure shock. "People died, it's national news."

"Anyone we know?" The lip gloss glisthened against your lips as you put more of it, your lashes pointing at her eyes while starting at her lips. "We know everyone." Her tone obvious.

"Sucks to be them, I guess." You shrugged, about to lay your open arms and take full space before her hands hold you in place. "What is wrong with you?"

"What's wrong with you, besides the obvious need of a fucking mani, bad." The edges of your eyebrows fought to turn into a frown, curving slightly at the edge of your nose. "I don't know maybe that I had to be all night scrubbing the...carnage off the linoleum-" your voices overlapped. "God don't talk like that it's... one of the most freaky Abby behaviors."

She showed you her hands, the under of her nails in a disgusting black, it made you want to throw up. "No- don't show your hands- stop." You shoved them down, the cool of your skin making her frown. "It makes us look both like total Gaylords."

-

Your lips were drenched in blood. She was sweet, with her freckled cheeks and the short bun on her now masy hair. She whined so pretty and so far she'd been the only one to try and fight back. Her nails scratched on your back and neck and arms, almost made it to hurt your eye too. Maybe if she hadn't done that your teeth wouldn't have pierced on her skin like they did.

Your grip left bruises on her skin. A gutural groan- half a moan while you uncovered her tits to hold her nipples between your fingers.

"Good girl" you whispered, holding her still.

If Abby could se who's organs you had on your mouth right now, she would turn into dust in a matter of seconds. Her girl, her all life best friend, had her mouth filled with blood and fresh organs that belonged to the girl you've made fun of together your whole life. Ellie Williams, the quiet girl you mocked with Abby by calling her all kinds of names because she had a smartness you didn't and you envied, she had the girls you couldn't, she was Abby’s first friend and most likely first love- she never realized. And you envied all of it, so, instead of getting over it you're digging into her open stomach, drenching your hands and clothes and mouth with her blood and her flesh. All of her is delicious, really- well, all except her tattooed arm. That's putrid.

The empty house you've found yourself in suddenly felt quiet as you could finally free yourself from her gripp. Her short nails had left a small bruise around your pale wrists until the pain became too blinding and the blood wasn't enough to keep her alive.

Cigarettes, lighter, some old ticket on her left pocket. Some dollars on the right one.

Nothing worth keeping from her. Truly.

Just the gain of your youth again.

"I'm feeling scrumptious-" The lighter fired small sparks way too close to your face. The taste of blood eventually disappearing from your tongue, fading withing each gulp of your salivating mouth. "Oh okay! cool im-" Abby tried to speak from the other side of the line. Her voice cutting through the not so long distance between. "You know when you kiss a boy and your whole body feels on vibrate?" the lighter in your hand with a small initial drawn with permanent pen caught your attention, almost making it sound like your words had lost trail. Abby frowned, laying her stomach on the bed as she held her weight over her elbows to speak a proper "yeah" just loud enough for you to hear. "Me- uhm, I'm still a little bit depressed about the giant smoldering funeral pyre in the middle of town-" yet you interrupted again.

"Move on Abby, it's over- And...you should be truly caring about your best friend who's having the best days ever since like Jesus invented the calendar." You finally stood up, hitting the cold of Ellie's leg just to make sure she was properly gone- as if all the blood you've sucked from her and all the flesh you've filled yourself with could somehow be meaningless and not enough to end with her.

"He didn't." Abby didn't even tried to explain it to you. It would be a waste of time and for once in her life she was feeling like hanging the call and leaving your bimbo brain to manage itself. "Well whatever. I'm like... a god- what's got you busy from paying all your attention to me? mhm?" you practically groaned at the absence of her response. "Gotta go, Owen wants to see me."

You pressed the fire right against your tongue. As if all the mad in you felt comfort by the pain. "You know... he's looking kinda cute to me lately, with his stupid t shirts and that-"

"Yeah, whatever, bye."

Your tongue burned.

-

"No offense but you look really tired." Abby put her black backpack over one of her shoulders, struggling to get the other side over her arm. You, you took your small purse and empty notebook and hid yourself under the violet hoodie- A hoodie that covered almost your knees if you tried to. Unlike you. really. "Wat's wrong?"

"I feel like boo-boo. My skin is breaking out, my hair is dull and lifeless. God... it's like I'm you."

Part of it comforted Abby, knowing you still had energy left for your humor to be this passive aggressive and your love to be this mean.

"Are you PMS-ing?-" you stopped before her, eyeing the pretty pink on her clothes up and down. She'd took the advice you gave her a few weeks ago on how to drees more for your liking. But, what the fuck was she speaking right now.

"Abby, that's not real. It was invented by the men to make women look crazy and you should know better."

"Oh I should know better? fuck off."

It was killing you, not having her near. She was afraid of you. You thought it was selfish. No matter how ugly your skin was and how much your stomach could kill you of hunger you couldn't get yourself to hurt her, yet she seemed beyond terrified of you. She was even mad at you.

It was killing you to see her with him. She wasn't good enough for him and he wasn't good enough for her.

"Hey, Abby. I'm sorry" you practically whined, holding her hand and locking your fingers with hers. She was mad at you, for, twice this year. That's a lot.

"Can I go home with you?"

-

"God! Abby stop with the screaming you're such a cliché-" The initials of your last victim shining beneath the gentle orange light of her room. The lighter on Abby's hands. "I won't bite you..." The whisper almost hit her skin as you crawled closer to her, your knees sinking in the matress. "Why are you wearing that..." she eyed the overworn hoodie hugging your body. "Though you'd like it..." Your nails tugged at the edges of her sweater, showing the bare shoulders beneath her white tank top.

She looked horrified- and more than breaking your heart, it made you pussy starved. Maybe this is why boys were an easy target.

You cradled her face between your heating hands, caressing her cheekbones under her glasses until they fogged. You chuckled at it before taking them off.

Her heartbeat could be felt on your own body, as if you'd already made her yours- She'd always been. "Come here..." you would expect a flinch, a push, a slap. Not her saliva meeting yours, the fat of her lip between yours until it goes the other way and she's got you in between.

It makes you wet, really. How her shoulder stiffen and her posture straightens until it doesn't and she leans to kiss you and savor you back.

She feels ridiculously soft and the little clothes she wears are beyond inviting. But there's nothing you'll push on her, not a boundary you'll ignore. She's the most tender flesh you've had, the most loud pump of blood you've sensed and the prettiest salty your tongue has feasted on. She's your girl, your Abby.

And she's whining at the little kisses you give her.

Abby Anderson, the girl you've craved for your whole life more than anything is now under your mercy, for you to take and enjoy as you please- well, almost.

You lay back again, meeting her no longer maddening eyes but soft brows and the locks of hair adorning her braid, resting over her shoulder.

You lock your fingers with them, undoing her smooth blonde between your hands. And Abby just stares in awe.

Just a few seconds ago she was about to cry at the confirmation that she'd lost you and now she wanted nothing else than to play girlfriend and boyfriend again and have you between her legs to fo the job Owen had failed miserable at.

And so she did, straddling your legs and sinking your bodies on the matress. Her lips eating yours eagerly, like she'd craved you just as much as you did. And you were so warm, scary comforting.

Your hands slid under her white top, covered by her sweater. The tip of your nails scratching the middle of her back until you got to her bra.

"What the fuck is happening." Her voice became loud, too acute for her own good.

The little heart with the BFF craved on it hit your chin, forcing your eyes to open and then your back to drag you and sit in front of her.

"My god, Abby. I've never heard you drop the F-bomb before." She stumbled over her words, trying to make it all have sense. The lighter on her hands again and suddenly being tossed for you to own it again. Your little award. "Slow down tardy slip, you sound like a sped." You imitated her stuttering, brushing some of your hair off your face.

"I'm gonna call the police." She threatened, but you just laughed it off, cupping her cheeks to deepen your tongue between her lips.

She didn't hesitate on following your lead. She never did.

It's fervent and sloppy and wet. And you have drool over your chin, you're truly rabid.

Her ass gets cupped by your hands, and she whines against your lips, taking her clothes off for you. Her bra reveals the perky nipples beneath and you direct your mouth to them, brushing the straps down her shoulders to get a proper taste.

"Let me hear you... yeah, like that." it makes you wet how obedient she is. How soft her nipple feels between your lips, It's delicious. "I love you Abby." Your arousal grows at how her hear stops, how her face genuinely lightens again for you.

"Lay down, come on." You guide her with soft murmurs and praise, a touch so gentle it could never be fair for Owen if he ever tried to feel her again.

Your hands traveled to the back of her legs, pressing a soft kiss on each before putting them over your shoulders. Her jeans unzipped before you got rid of her underwear, and sinking in between her legs not Inmediatelly- but after you took a proper look of her wet slit and your breath hovered.

Your mouth leaves kisses over her puffy clit, fingers sissoring her soaked folds. You could come just by how pretty she sounds for you. How she held onto you and trust her body to you.

In exchange its only fair to savour every inch of her. Licking, sucking, kissing her arousal. Teasing it with the tip of your fingers and tongue before actually thrusting inside her.

And you lose yourself in her, sucking at her clit- moaning against it at how fucking delicious she tastes. Her legs are so soft, and her happy trail is as pretty as the under. Her tits show enough for you to remember forever and her hands are constantly looking to hold onto you, to lock her fingers between your head into a tender grip that you have to guide into harsh and rough.

You can see her fogged glasses. Her once perfect hair a mess all over her back, pressed against her pretty skin covered in sweat. Your name falls from her plump lips as pleads. Over and over again- too overwhelmed with your pretty voice, your hands on her- she just whines, searching for friction, rubbing desperately against your sloppy tongue licking over her pretty pussy.

-

Abby never said I love you back

-

"Hey, sorry I- I need to talk to you about you know who?"

It had been months after that. Currently October 31, way too cold to still be months away from December.

Abby never said I love you back, and that's all you cared about. Not all the deaths that had been your fault, not the sex, not her cum dripping down your chin before you crawled to her and deepened your tongue into hers again.

And Abby, on the other hand, she didn't care about else than the stupid lighter.

Fuck Ellie, and fuck Owen, and fuck her.

"ugh, our little Abby?" The boy seemed oblivious to the whole thing. "She's been acting off lately, but it must be you..." His passive aggressive self was- "I think there's something wrong, she's been really upset since... you know, Ellie died?"

He frowned, stepping back from you just enough to eye you up and down- to look at your tits. "They were being intimate and-" he tried to stop you, but you held him in place "And, I just- I'm sorry, I care about you... so much, more than I've ever had the guts to admit...."

He stood there, quiet and still. You, held the sides of his arms and just like that he was on his knees for you.

"Abby didn't deserve a boy like you"

-

"I feel so empty-" he kissed you.

The only man beside her father to get her full heart and soul, was kissing you. He wasn't only betraying her- your Abby- he was doing it with you, the most important person in this world for her.

It happened in a matter of seconds. Your teeth sinking into his tongue, ripping it from him. It was too painful to even scream or shout or fight back. He held you, his gross hands were touching you and keeping you in place. It wasn't his strength nor your fear but the shock of the sudden disgusting feeling within you. Shame.

You throw him into the pool, your dress heavy against you. He got trapped between you and the fabric of your white stained dress and the natural heaviness of the water.

His head hit with the walls of the pool endless times until he tried to fight back for once. Abby.

-

"You were never a good friend, even when we were little you would throw your toys at me and bite me and- " you cut her off, trying to step closer. She wouldn't let you.

it broke your heart.

"And now I'm eating your boyfriend, see? at least I'm consistent." You left the floor, all the anger and pain and shame mixing into one. It wasn't you anymore but whatever those men had done to your body and your brain. Abby wasn't Abby, she was a threat.

"Why do you need him? you can have any boy you want, why him?" the next words were mumbles until she pronounced insecure. Insecure.

You didn't reply, not a single word leaving your lips until you managed to make your way into her.

"I'm not insecure Abby, how could I?"

You tried to contain, you really did. The live and adoration for her was endless, no demon, no man, no boy, no nothing could ever take that from you. It was a thing that made you, you. She was the thing, the human you loved more than anything in the whole universe.

Yet no matter what, a man would always take the place you deserved.

"I am going to eat your soul and shit it out Abigail!"

"I thought you only murdered boys"

"Oh, I go both ways."

[milla-frenchy]

Glory O

2k1 | Javier Peña x fem reader x Steve Murphy | ao3 Summary: you work in a brothel, and two guys want to try something new Warnings: 18+ mdni. pwp. Glory hole, sex work, dirty talk, oral (f), fingering, jacking off, spitting, piv, cumplay, creampies, gun threat (not against reader) No age specified.  a/n: thank you @aurorawritestoescape for beta reading 💕 and @toxicanonymity for the spanish translation🖤

Masterlist

****************

“Let’s try this one” was the first thing you heard when they came in. You were lying on your back, the upper part of your body was hidden behind a thin wall, leaving your pussy and legs exposed. 

A hand rested on your thigh and you shivered. Even though you had been working there for several months, the first contact always made your heart rate accelerate. Hand pressure was often characteristic of how you were going to be fucked. Often, but not always. A gentle caress like the one at that moment, could lead to a rough or painful fucking. Or a boring one. 

The hand brushed against your skin, thumb facing your inner thigh.

“What do you think?”, you heard a man with a Chilean accent.

“Yeah, sure. You go first”, a voice with an American accent replied.

“You really like to jerk off while I fuck them, right?”

The other man chuckled, not denying it. The client next to you unzipped his jeans, then you heard the friction of clothes sliding slightly. He probably had his pants pulled down just below his balls. He put his hands on you, and when he positioned himself between your thighs, you felt a warm, hard cock pressed against your pussy. You held your breath, ready to take his cock like this, without preparation. Like you always had to do.

But he hesitated, staying there for a few seconds, his shaft against your folds. Then you heard him tuck his cock in his pants without zipping them up. His thumb spread your folds and you heard “mmmm…gorgeous. Steve, look at that.”

Footsteps came closer, and a low whistle echoed through the room.

“Yep, can’t wait to fill her up.”

You swallowed, waiting for what was going to happen. 

You suddenly heard the noises coming from the nearby partitions. For a moment, you forgot that you weren't alone. Other women were being fucked, and you easily recognized the noises feigning pleasure. You always did the same, wanting the fucking to end quickly. 

When you felt a warm breath against your pussy and a mustache brushing against the soft skin of your inner thighs, you snapped out of your thoughts and whimpered. The man grabbed the back of your knees and moved you towards him as far as the opening would allow, before resting one of your legs on his shoulder. His thumb brushed up and down your folds and you heard him inhale. When his tongue licked between your folds in one stroke, you moaned.

“Already wet”, he murmured.

Two men in the brothel together to fuck you could be intimidating, or degrading, but this time you were slightly less guarded than usual. He was still brushing your folds with his thumb, and you got even wetter. His finger was as sensual as his hand on your thigh, he was good at it. He brushed his finger over your clit, twirling it delicately under his skin.

“Fuck,” you muttered. That was new. They rarely took the time to make you come, and his touch was truly perfect.

“You like that, Cariño (honey)? Gonna come for me?”

His thumbs spread your folds again, then his tongue ran over them, in long strokes from bottom to top, several times.

“Oh my god”, you whimpered in your breath.

He buried his tongue in your pussy, as far as he could, his hands holding your thighs. You felt like in less than two minutes you were going to come and you covered your mouth with your hand of surprise. 

“Want a taste, Steve?”

“Not yet.”

The man put your other knee on his shoulder, still fucking you with his tongue, grunting between your thighs. You heard “Steve” unzip his pants, then spit.

The man between your thighs moved up to your clit with his tongue, and he circled it with his lips, sucking gently. His middle finger brushed against your entrance, covering it with your wetness. When he pushed it in gently, the tip of his tongue swirled over your clit. Quickly, he pushed in a second finger, slowly pumping your pussy with his digits. You grabbed one of your breasts as you were already coming. Quickly, so quickly, that you didn’t really understand that it was going to happen. You wondered if the other men fucking the women heard the difference in tone between your moans and theirs.

“That’s good, bebé (baby). I’m gonna fuck you now.” You heard his hand rubbing against his mustache, probably to wipe it. You wondered what he looked like. What they looked like.

He stood up and placed his hand on your hip. His cock in the other one, he rubbed himself against your folds, covering the entire length of his shaft with your wetness, and bringing it up to rub against your clit. Your sensitivity made you gasp every time he touched it. Finally, he placed his tip to your entrance and pushed, making you moan. When the crown of his cock plunged through your entrance, you heard him growl. His dick was thick and you felt your folds part as it passed through them. Both of his hands were now on your hips, he pulled back before hitting the bottom, then thrusted again, all the way in, and you gasped.

“How is she?” asked Steve.

“Good. Fucking good. Chose the perfect one.”

His hands dug into your flesh, his body slamming against yours at a perfect pace.

“Come see this. How her pussy is taking my cock.”

You heard his footsteps, and his proximity allowed you to hear his wrist fucking his cock, too.

“You’re doin’ great, baby. Sucking his cock right in.”

He jerked off faster.

“Shit, all that cream around your cock Javi…you’re giving it to her good.”

You imagined them, their eyes fixed on your dripping pussy. When you felt another hand on your body, you thought you were wavering. Steve caressed your skin, while Javi was still fucking you. Steve slid his hand up to your clit, brushing it gently, and you moaned.

“Shh, you’re ok baby. I’m gonna touch you gently, ain’t gonna hurt you. Ok?”

“Ok”, you murmured, finally giving yourself the right to talk to them.

“Don’t want you to come yet. Can you hold back for me?”, asked Steve.

“I’m…I’m gonna try.”

“Good girl.”

The double stimulation made you clench on Javi’s cock.

“Fuck”, he grumbled. “She’s squeezing my dick. Mierda…(shit).”

“Don’t tell me you’re gonna shoot your load already? Her pussy’s that good?”

“Oh, fuck you! Yeah, she’s that good. You’ll see when you are inside her, smartass.”

He kept thrusting in, his cock was hitting your G-spot. Steve leaned down and placed his lips on your clit and this time you thought you were going to faint. His tongue was applying a perfect pressure and they both were driving you crazy. You felt your pussy clench desperately.

“Fuck, fuck…” Still thrusting in, you heard Javi groan louder and louder. 

“Then it’ll be Steve’s turn, you’re gonna take both of our cocks, right? Gonna fill that pussy with our cum.”

“Yes, yes please…”

Your pussy was clenching and you couldn’t stop it. You felt Javi’s cock twitch inside you, he grumbled “I’m gonna fill you up” and finally he froze, sending spurts of cum deep inside your walls. The sounds of other men's moving bodies, their grunts, were filling the room. 

Once he emptied his balls, he withdrew and spread the cum that was flowing out along your folds with his cock. Then he pulled away, and Steve’s hands were on you. He surprised you too, when he leaned down towards you and twirled his tongue around your clit again. You wondered if Javi had smeared his cum on it, if Steve was tasting him on you. He spread your folds with his thumbs, and you felt some cum leaking down. He stood aside to look. Since they had entered the room, they had behaved differently from all the men who had fucked you so far. The way they were touching you, fucking you, made you tremble. 

Steve slid his middle finger over your folds, spreading more of Javi’s cum, making you hold your breath. Then he stood up, and grabbed his cock.

“Look at that Javi. You’re right, her cunt is gorgeous. And even more beautiful covered with cum.”

He ran his cock along your entrance, soaking it with your wetness and Javi’s cum. You were used to multiple creampies, when several men fucked you in a row. But this sensuality, their playful attitude, was new to you. Steve pushed in, and its girth made you gasp.

“Mmmm, it's good, baby. My cock’s covered by both of you. How hot is that…”

You thought you were going to come just from hearing him, and your pussy tightened around his cock.

“Fuck…don't make me come too quickly. Wanna fuck this pussy properly.”

“Sorry”, you murmured.

“Don't be sorry. Love hearing your little moans. Very different from those of your friends, mmm?”

“Yeah…yeah, fuck.”

“We’re fucking you good, you don't need to fake it…is that right?”

“Yeah, you’re fucking me good. Love your cocks.”

He chuckled, “Yeah, I bet you do.”

You heard another voice, neither Steve nor Javi.

“Andale, cabrón. Toman demasiado tiempo. Queremos cogerla también.” (Come on, man. You guys are taking too long. We wanna fuck her too.)

Steve froze, and asked Javi “What did he say?”, who translated to him.

“We’re not done, man. Pick another girl, move!” He raised his hand, to tell them to fuck off. But it didn’t stop the man:

“Voy a llamar al jefe y él va a sacarlos. Nosotros ya pagamos para cogerla. No pueden tenerla solo para ustedes.” (I'm gonna call the boss, he’s gonna throw you out. We already paid to fuck her. You can't keep her to yourself like that!)

This time, you translated for him. He pulled out of you, and tucked his cock in his pants. You heard a loud noise, and guessed that Steve pinned the other man against the wall. He had difficulty breathing, Steve was probably holding him by the throat. You heard a click of a gun: the security was removed.

“Yo soy tu patrón. ¿Sí?” (I am your boss, yes?)

“¡Está bien! Está bien! ¡Yo hago lo que ustedes digan!” (It’s ok, it’s ok! I’ll do whatever you say)

“¿Sí?” (yeah?)

Steve threw the man to the ground, then put the gun back in his shoulder holster before coming back to you.

Javi pointed his finger to the other men who were waiting, and said “Cállanse, todos. Ahora ella es nuestra. Entienden?” (Fuck off, all of you. She’s ours, for now. Understand?)

There were a few murmurs, then footsteps receded.

“Sorry ‘bout that, baby. Fucking animals.”

Steve thrusted into you after pulling out his cock. He was still hard as steel, as if he enjoyed the adrenaline of the fight. Knowing that he had a gun on him while he was fucking you turned you on, even if you couldn’t see it.

He was fucking you harder, faster. Sometimes slowing down to look at his cock digging into you. Covered in Javi's cum. He leaned forward slightly and let his saliva flow onto your clit, before twirling it under his thumb.

“You’re gonna come for me too, baby? Can’t fill you up if I didn’t make you come. That ain’t good southern manners.”

You felt he was close but he didn’t slow down his pace. Thrusting his thick cock in you, his body slamming against yours, his balls slapping against your ass. He spat on your clit this time, and you felt another orgasm building.

“You’re doing great, Cariño. So good for our cocks. Bet you’d like us to fuck you again. Maybe you’d suck our cocks next time.”

He heard you moaning, and chuckled.

“Yeah? You’d like that, one of our cocks in your mouth and the other one in your cunt? Stuffing you from behind, making you choke on that dick?”

“Javi, what the hell…I’m tryin’ to hold on here!”

The last thing you heard before you came was Javi tapping on Steve’s shoulder. Your pussy squeezed his shaft, and that's all he was waiting for to come deep inside your core, mixing his cum with Javi's, as your spasms were milking his cock.

“You didn’t do better than me, smartass.”

They both chuckled, until Steve pulled out, breathing loudly, and the two stood in front of your open, exposed, dripping pussy. Javi spread your folds, and their cum flowed out.

“Fuck, that’s hot, man.”

“Yeah, we fucked her good.”

***********

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@pascalsanctuary @littlemisspascal @survivingandenduring

[fukashiin]

catching them staring at you + catching you staring at them

— w. heartslabyul and octavinelle

⤷ a heart forgets caution when you're around.

RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS

when you catch him staring at you.

doused in the celestial light that streams down from the unforgiving heavens, riddle ogles at you, jaw-slacked, as if a monument breathed its way back to life to grace him with its mythical beauty forged by the hands of god. who could blame him when you're both sat on the window ledge, admiring the endless skies that descends onto the earth, gleaming patches of foliage and sea shores that befalls on to the earthly soil.

"are you going to keep staring at me like that? it's getting embarrassing." you cup the plump cheeks that grows heated under the eyes of riddle as every second passes by, wondering if he's even taking in what you just said. you try your hardest to ignore the great turmoil that churns in your stomach as you await his response.

"ah-" he squeaks, "my..apologies. i was lost in thought." he and you both knew he wasn't.

he's neck-deep in the sloshing waters of his thoughts that he calls you. he wishes he could run—maybe even teeter a bit—when the thought, scent, and touch of you pops up in his mind and overflows the rest of it that lingered with the austere memories of his mother and countless magic-driven tomes.

but you were his salvation. the impalpable warrior to his raging nightmares and daydreams that he wishes he could just run away with. away from the peering eyes and faraway roars that submerges him deep into the boundless chasms of the earth.

but you ground him. bring him back onto the surface where you exist.

"you're super cute." you admit and try to siffle another giggle that rides up your throat when a cloudy pink appears onto his cheeks. "where could that have possibly come from?" he bites back, trying and failing to sound as threatening as he could. luckily for you, he doesn't have the heart to do that to the person he very much cherishes.

"it's okay," breathing out a few of the last words that you wanted only riddle to hear, you pull him in by his collar, grabby hands that yearns for the taste of his mouth, and pull him in for a kiss, excited for the future trysts you were about to have with him after this one. "you can stare at me for as long as you'd like."

CATER DIAMOND

when you catch him staring at you.

prolific accounts that roam free across the surface of magicam, cohesive influencers that collaborate to garner a larger audience and fans worldwide for the sake of being seen. but cater doesn't, and can't see that in you.

with his chin resting in the sweaty palms of his hands, he twirls a smooth tendril of his ginger hair and swirling fake mustaches atop of his mouth while he stares at you from afar beneath all the humdrum. there you were, jotting your notes away. skin rubbing against the lined-paper and your hair rustling at the slightest motion of your head across your clothed shoulders.

a picture-perfect visage that rivals those of widely-admired artisans' works of the centuries. one that battles face-to-face with the soaring sunsets and the routinely pruned rose bushes that he thought were pretty enough that pools filled with models and mascara could never compare. but you—apparently could?

"is something the matter?" the sudden capture of his gaze veers his mind into another state of panic. what options of recourse would there be now that you caught him red-handed?

he balked at the idea of you teasing him. "nothing! nothing at all, promise." he conveys a clear thumbs up when he catches you raising a doubtful brow, a captor questioning the suspect when the chances of getting out of his slippery mire was close to zero. you mumble a barely audible okay and slide back into your usual activities.

shortly afterwards, a moment-long snap! sharply cuts through the tense air like a butter knife that slices through a block of butter.

you whip your head towards the sound, as you see cater suspended in the position he was situated in. phone in hands, eyes wide and fidgety. a shoddy attempt to take a picture of you.

"..oops?"

TREY CLOVER

when he catches you staring at him.

splat! thick blotches of cake batter splatters onto the nearby table, tarnishing its reflective surface from the sticky mixture that subsisted off of beaten-up eggs and flour. trey halts and lowers his arm, trying to gauge the untimely situation that unfurled right in front of him then and there. his mixture developed under the guidance of his handy spatula sits untouched, weirdly so.

"y/n?" he calls out your name, purposing himself to walk towards the area you were just standing at. he tries to swat away any thoughts that clouded his mind, namely, you in danger. he loves and spoils you too much, even the hot breaths that fanned against the shell of your ears tighten your chest, wanting more and more.

"t-trey!" seemingly, there's nothing wrong. but an explanation should be out of the question. "uh.."

he places a defined hand on your shoulder, depriving you of any other idealistic excuses to fling his way. you chew the seams of your lips, squirming internally and at yourself to recall any past methods to make use of in the current situation that took ahold of your entire body. "staring at my arms again?"

"don't blame me!" retorting as quick as a bullet train, you raise your arms up in failing defence when he catches you, again—for staring at those forearms of his. the natural stature he possesses does nothing but floods out the rest of the sanity your were desperately holding on to.

a hearty chuckle bubbles up his throat and he lets it out like the dear he is. what an old man.

"be good for me and get the dish cloth that's hanging just right about there, okay?"

ACE TRAPPOLA

when he catches you staring at him.

"did not!"

as the heated tension crackles in the air, ace points an accusatory finger towards you in an attempt to burgle a reasonable defence out of you. so what if you were gawking so shamelessly at the way he threads his fingers through his hair, how post-match sweat dripped at the tip of his chin, the very picture of indulgence. anyone would've buckled their knees at the sight of that. "you'll need something more concrete than that, babe."

effusions of longing clung onto the weight of your heart, weaving through past memories and times you've spent with him as your presence travels back in time. miscalculated opportunities clawed your mind with an animalistic touch, summoning something much deeper hence a bitter aftertaste.

something in you snaps.

ace tries to hide down his upcoming laughter when he inches his face closer to yours, heaving breaths that ignite a spark of forbidden electricity which surges through your entire system, eliciting a tiny yelp out of you. you clench and release your aching hands, hungering for the featherlight touch of his lips soothing against yours. your mouth suddenly feels lonely.

"but, i like that." he strokes your bottom lip with the pad of his thumb, "you staring at me like your life depends on it. makes me feel wanted."

no more fooling around.

you both sit still in the position you were placed in. the drab air that used to cloak your beating hearts under the dim lights seems so much more needling than before. it provokes the hidden conviction that tears at the sky-high boundaries of your mind, provoking you to make the first move.

are you holding back like the way he is?

DEUCE SPADE

when you catch him staring at you.

a fiery ember singed his veins, lighting up a trail of wanton desires through his arms that leaves a state of chaos imprinted into his mind. he's fighting a one man army, trying his absolute hardest to utilise what options he could make use of at the moment, however expedient they may seem. god forsake him, while he tries to steady his breath and moisten his lips when you have your head perched on the broad of his shoulders.

he racks him mind for countless possible spiels he could come up with in a matter of seconds once you awoke from your soundless slumber, also acknowledging the fact that he may not scurry his way out under the gaze of your scrutiny.

"y/n.." he tries to prod the crown of your head, while also holding back onto the amount of persistence that laced within.

but it's so unfair.

how could you look so beautiful, drenched in the rivers of the molten sunrise where the beams fractured between your eyelashes and onto your face, a scene that sways hand-in-hand with the times where starlight illuminated your dancing figures on the beach's seashore, waves of glitter and sea findings gifted by the depths of the deep that rides up to your ankles.

how could he not catch his breath when his eyes settled on you?

his gaze lingers on for a little while longer before the scrunch of your nose brings him back to reality. the ends of your lips take a small upturn at how easy it was to fool a man like him. he wishes he weren't so oblivious the way he is the next moment.

"i know you're staring, deuce."

AZUL ASHENGROTTO

when you catch him staring at you.

as if a vortex was sucking him in, blurred implications and foggy amazement was embedded into his mind at the unrealism of your beauty while you glanced up at the swerving fishes and sea creatures manoeuvring side to side. his fingers twitched, longing for the contact of your skin flushed against his, as he pulls you in for a kiss.

he can't get the turmoil that thundered in his head out. him being with the person who dipped his heart in a pool of gold, who acted as a lifelong sentry that shielded him from the outside world and threats that dared to come forth? unthinkable.

but here you were. standing with him, stood in an aquarium nestled deep beneath the murky waters of the sea, just as he offered. you probably wouldn't think that the sea would publish any aquariums, but every once in a while, he wanted to take the time off to showcase a few of the treasuries that anyone had yet to find out about.

your skin was riddled with the gentlest touch of blue, crystal-clear as the skies of the day where the rain was no more. the sight of something so ethereal, standing before him, etched onto his mind where the rising filth of his past lived in.

you glance to the side and catch him, still as a statue. and he's brought back to reality, by something as simple as the lovely timbre of your voice. you hope he's ready for the teasing that waits to ambush him when you two get back to the dorms. "azul! what're those called?"

"hm..?" he pushes the bridge of his spectacles up again, adjusting it so he could take a good look at what you were pointing at. you could say he's pleasantly surprised. "ah, those?"

he takes a step forward and joins you in on your inspection. "they're what i call you, angelfish."

JADE LEECH

when you catch him staring at you.

"you're the perfect muse fitted for this task, i thank you greatly."

you were specially chosen as a muse for the latest art project that recently pounced on him last minute, grief to the forgotten research of the latest species of mushroom that had yet to come out as anything else other than nebulous. that only beckoned him to finish this particular task, first.

"will you angle your face just a bit to the left, dear?"

you abided, and tilted your sun-kissed face to where he was jerking his head at. there you were, perched on top of a criss-cross picnic blanket while graced with a multitude of luscious fruits sitting by your side, as you held up freshly-picked strawberries between the different width of your fingers. dressed in a flowy outfit beautified in frills and lace, and different pearls ornamented across your neck that draped over your collarbone.

jade had his easel brought from home rested amongst the tall grass, sketchpad in its stand and pencil in the movement of his hand. few times where smudged pencil led smeared against the side of his palm, few times where he lost focus by the sight of you.

the beaming rays of the sun that smiled upon your skin and kissed it with its blinding light, as you bathe in the balmy weather that shone across large patches of grass and buildings alike.

jade was in love.

he halts his sketching duties for a few moments, luxuriating in the mere sight of you, how you hold yourself, how you reminded him of summer romances and tender play-fights underneath the bed sheets. how, you were so otherwordly.

it's almost criminal how someone as beautiful as you can exist in this tainted world—so much that he doesnt realise the eyes that strayed away from his work and onto the heated flesh of your face. you notice the loss of the sound of rough sketching against the paper, and gradually looked at jade as your eyes met his.

"laying a little thick on the staring there, don't you think?"

and just like that, everything that was properly arranged, from the resting sketchpad—to the different mediums placed in a metal tin nearby—winds up tumbling to the ground. himself included.

welp.

FLOYD LEECH

when he catches you staring at him.

floyd takes multiple sideswipes across the court, weaving through hurdles of opponents that tried but miserably failed to take down his figure that charged through burdening people from the opposing team. he makes a startling turn to the rear, bolts his legs off the ground and leaps as high as how Hermes was in his prime, quick and furious as the raging wind.

he lands with a loud blow, and the stadium breaks out in an undying state of pandemonium.

you've heard rumours of how high floyd can jump that abounded between the school walls—it was even mentioned to be near-comedic, but he snatched your breath away, crumbled it beneath his feet and razed the entire city to the ground until mere rubble and shards of glass was all that was left. theoretically—if he actually wanted to.

and you can't help but gawk. at the tall stature that yielded victory in his hands in a glorious light, how the hem of those basketball shorts flared against his thighs as he jogs through the court, sending high-fives to his teammates and accidentally striking jamil in the head.

oh, how such a rare moment presented to you makes you want to spurt in his direction and throw your arms around his body.

you sat there, awestruck by his beauty that ensconced you in its presence. a rush of blood warms your cheek, as you slowly rose your phone up in your hands to seize the opportunity to take a recording of him basking in his splendour.

a split second later, he takes sight of you in his field of vision, emits a small snicker and calls out to you. "y/n! think fast!"

"wha-" he grabs the headband that circled his head, took it off, and flung it to where you were sat. you quickly lunged your body forward to reach out for it, fumbling with the fabric in your hands and eventually relaxed in your seat. you smiled, and wrapped it around your wrist, producing multiple layers to envelop it in the warmth.

you whisper a small "thank you" as you looked at him, the love growing in your eyes like a sprout that craved for its growth, akin to how you were trying to hold yourself back from running up to him this second. you then remember—that nothing is holding you back.

[ohtobeleah]

Strictly Scandalous…

You first meet Hangman when he accidentally spills his drink on you at the Hard Deck turning your pretty white dress see through. Conscious of eyes on your chest he offers up his shirt to you and begins trying to learn more about you. Reader, turned on by his protective nature and sexy physical appearance, takes him outside with the intent of showing him how much she appreciated his kind gesture and charming personality only to end up receiving the best sex of her life…and possibly a date.

Listen this concept gave me literal life. I did however make a slight change and instead of sex, we went with the reader give Hangman head because that’s what my brain went to. ✌️

Warnings: This is strictly scandalous, smut ahead.

“I really am so unbelievably sorry—“ Jakes leaning over the booth to get closer to you on his elbows, his T-shirt slung over your now very see-through dress. “I just didn’t for the life of me see you standing there.” 

“It’s alright, really.” You mule as you take a sip of the Canadian Club Jake had brought you as a sorry for spilling not one, not two, but three draft beers all over your pretty little ensemble. “Besides, the view ain’t that bad from where I’m sitting, so I guess you can say we’re even Stevens.” 

Jake had ripped his own shirt off without a second thought, covering your exposed chest to the prying eyes of bar patrons who watched the dirty blonde, usually stable aviator stumble into you haphazardly as he momentarily lost his footing on the way over to the pool table. 

It left him exposed from the waist up, which he’d normally be okay with. But Penny had a strict no nips policy and Jake hated the fact Bradley Bradshaw's Hawaiian throw over had now become his saving grace. He’d never live it down, the shirt or the fact he’d dragged you down in the depths of embarrassment with him. Jake Seresin was on a roll tonight, clearly. 

“If it’s Hawaiian shirts you’re into you should be talking to Rooster—“ Jake mumbles under his breath as he watches you from across the booth twirl the little plastic straw around the vessel holding your drink of choice. 

“It's not the shirt.” You simply shake your head. “And I don't do mustaches.” 

“What is it that you do then?” Jake feels himself gaining some confidence back, he’s sending you one of his signature smirks and he knows just by the way you finish your drink and lean into the booth a little more to close the gap as much as you can that lingers between the two of you. 

“Dirty blondes who spill beer on unassuming contacts.”

It's that comment that led you to know, with the copious amounts of alcohol flooding your systems and inability to think all that rationally, not that you didn't want to be grown on your knees in the carpark of the Hard deck. Not that you didn't want Jake's hands wrapped in your hair, helping to guide you up and down his length. 

It's just that an all important question had been missed in the meet and greet part of your x-raked rendezvous. Why was Jake at a naval bar in the first place? And he certainly hadn't asked you that question either. But, it was far too late to ask now, consequences be damned you thought. 

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck–” Like a mantra, Jakes looking up into the heavens above as he bucks his hisp against your face, his cock disapearing and re-appearing moments after having being shoved down your warm tight throat. “Yess–ah fuck!” You've got his shirt on the ground, stopping the rocks from digging into your knees too deep as you work to work him over. 

It's damn near organsmic to hear Jake, the man who'd spilt three drinks on you earlier, moan the way he was. Needy, lustful, one hand twisted in your hair while the other cups your cheek. Guiding you as you take every inch he's willing to give you. You hadnt gone into this thinking youd end up sucking Jake off, but fuck it had been one of your better ideas of the night so far. 

“Fuugghh–!” Jakes flushed a red hume, it had started to creep its way up his neck from below the hawaiian button up, flushing his cheeks a pretty pink as his breathing laboured and got a little heavier with every passing second he relished in. “Feels so fucking good.” 

If Jake had known that all it would take to get such a pretty girl like you down on your knees before him, sucking him senseless in the car park of the Hard Deck, was to spill a few amber beverages across your chest he would have tapped the whole damn keg months ago. 

“Mmmhmm–” You simply aren't shy, moaning around Jake's cock as you look up through watery eyelashes to see him looking down at you with an open slack jaw. He has his back pressed against the side of his black F-150 and his jeans pulled down just past his hips, down enough that you could reach in and free him from the confines of his boxer briefs when you had pushed him up against the truck initially to make out. 

It had been a feverish, intense hook-up. So feverish and needy that when your hand grazed against Jake's clothed cock he was already hard and standing to attention, hoping that the situation unfolding would lead to something more.  

“Ah fuck, darlin, if you don’t sucking me off like that I’m gonna cum down that pretty little throat of yours.” Jakes close, he can feel his orgasm pooling at the base of his shaft. He can feel the all to familiar sensation of his balls tightening, his heart rate spiking, the need to just fuck deep into your throat overwhelming him as he let out groans and frustrated sighs, because he keeps forgetting how to fuckign breathe.

Popping your lips, you pull back and take Jake's sloppy length in your hand, pumping him as you chuckle and smile up at him. 

“You say that like it’s a bad thing?” Jakes taking that as the go ahead to rail your throat. Waiting till your lips are once again wrapped around his tip before he's taking over the pace, groaning as your nose hits his manscaped pubic hair. Holding you down as he twitches and leans over you. 

“OOhhhhhh fucking christ–” Tapping at his thigh, Jakes pulls your head back just to watch the tears fall freely down your cheeks as you gasp for air, only to do the same thing over and over again because it feels far too good to stop now when hes so close to cumming down your windpipe. “Baby, ahh Fuck I’m there, I’m there ohhhhh ffuugghhh–” 

It's an overwhelming sensation, to have Jake buried at the hilt down your throat as he's withering away above you. His vision blurred for a minute as he felt himself releasing into your warm, tight throat. The mixture of saliva and opake cum dripping down your tongue before you swallow. Neat and tidy. “Ahhhh oh my god–” 

Despite his inhibitions, Jake Seresin is a southern gentleman at heart. So when he comes down from the high you gave him, he's unlocking his truck, pulling you into it and down onto his lap. Kissing you just to taste himself on your tongue as he cups your cheeks, hot to the touch. 

There's no secret just by looks alone that you are by far much younger than Jake. He knows it's not a question you ask a lady either, so he goes about it rather strategically while he's sucking against the pulse point of your neck as you grind yourself down into his lap. 

“What do you do, pretty girl?” Jake's mumbling. “You know, when you aren't riding thighs in the backs of Ford trucks in car parks of bars?” And it's your answer that has Jake's voice hitching in the back of his throat. He's just gotten a new gig, as had most of the daggers–they were instructors, TopGun instructors. The newest class were starting Monday….. 

“Im a naval aviator–” You moaned, pulling back just so you could rip your dress up over your head, exposing yourself to the drunk in trouble man under you. “Start at Miramar on Monday, Lieutenant Y/n Mitchell at your service.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

Strictly Scandalous Jake ‘Hangman Seresin

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

Strictly Scandalous Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin

[midnightlizard]

Kara Danvers x gn!spidey! reader

Love square

Summary: Kara loves the reader, but they're in love with Supergirl. None of them knows who the other secretly is. (it's basically the miraculous plot if you've ever seen it)

Warnings: nothing really. Reader has Spiderman powers but the superhero name (Y/S/N) is not specified

Word count: 5080

-

-

It was a quiet night out in the streets, you already swung over the city a couple of times looking for people getting robbed, attacked or even murdered. But to everyone's luck, except maybe yours, National City was very peaceful tonight.

Hanging from a streetlight, you were pondering ending your patrol and just going back to bed, until you noticed something small moving out of the corner of your eye.

It didn't trigger your senses but you still decided to get on the ground to check it out.

What seemed to be now a small animal shierked away from the sudden movement, hiding under a bench.

Looking through the cracks of the wood you saw a pair of yellow eyes looking back at you.

"come here kitty, come come" you knelt on the cement, trying to get it to come to you. Surprisingly enough, it slowly advanced, coming out to sniff your outstretched fingers.

"oh sorry baby I have no food with me" but thankfully the cat didn't seem to mind, as it started headbutting your hand in search of cuddles. Now that it was under the light you could see its black fur and white spots, that made it look like it had socks on and a mustache.

"ahw look at you, you're so cute!" he wasn't wearing a collar, but you could tell he was a boy.

Between finding the best place to pet him and thinking how you could sneak him into your apartment at this hour without anyone noticing, you suddenly felt a shiver run down your spine and heard a gunshot a second later.

"sorry baby, got to go" you hurriedly said, and the cat almost seemed to miss your touch as you sprung into action, shooting a web at the nearest building and launching yourself into the air, swinging towards the sound.

When you arrived, not too long after, all you could see was a big red cape twirling around and three men around it.

There she was, the girl of steel, in all of her glory, fighting bad guys and not breaking a sweat. They didn't seem too dangerous and you both knew she could handle them herself. But that way you wouldn't get a chance to flirt with her.

You silently crawled the walls, as to not alert the men, and with every bad guy she sent flying into the air, you trapped them with your webs.

"what took you so long?" she asked, removing dust from her hands.

"I was with a kitty! I came as soon as I heard" you leaned close to her face "why, you missed me?"

"not a chance spidey" she put a hand on your cheeck and turned your head the other way. "where is the woman?" she took a step back, searching around. When her gaze turned to you, she saw your head tilted to the side in confusion, and decided to explain.

"there was a woman with them, they were trying to rob her, I jumped in but she must have escaped. Did you not see anyone on your way here?"

Even tho she couldn't see it, you smiled and shook your head "sorry beautiful, but you're the only woman I see" that made her groan out loud, though you knew she wasn't seriously bothered by it.

Since the moment you two met, you were instantly drawn to the blonde, to the confidence in her steps and the undeniable sweetness of her heart, and the fact that she was gorgeous was definitely a plus.

And from the first moment you decided to make it clear, you were never one to hide your feelings no matter the nature, hence the constant flirting.

Unfortunately, she never seemed to return the sentiment, turning you down every single time claiming she already had someone in her heart.

"I need to take them to the police station" she replied, ignoring the flattery "wanna help me bug?"

"You know" you started, already attatching two of the men on your back "for someone who insists on refusing me, you sure like using pet names"

You didn't give her time to reply when you gave her a mask covered kiss on the cheeck "race you there sweetheart" and with that, you started swinging, leaving her to scoff and pick up the remaining criminal.

The rest of the night went by smoothly, with only a couple of people speeding at a red light, but you weren't a traffic vigilante, so you didn't intervene.

- - -

It was almost five a.m. when you got back to your apartment. You went to check on your phone, not really expecting anyone to text you during the night. Much to your surprise, someone did.

Two hours ago, almost at the time you met supergirl, Kara texted you. It was nothing really, she just said how excited she was for your lunch plans for tomorrow, but it still made you laugh that she felt the need to say that in the middle of night.

Throwing your phone back on the nightstand, you took your suit off and got into bed, trying to get as much sleep as possible, to not look like a zombie in front of your friend.

- - -

Turns out, she looked just as sleepy as you. In fact, as soon as you two sat down at noonas, she let out a big yawn, covering her mouth with her hand "sorry, I didn't get much sleep last night" she apologized, light blush on her cheeks.

"oh I believe it" you said, picking up the menu "with texting me in the middle of the night and stuff"

Had you not been so focused on what to order, you probably would have noticed the darker shade of red that took over her face. "yea I was uhm, I couldn't sleep and I was thinking about it"

"We could have met another day, I wouldn't want you to fall asleep on me" you stated jokingly but she instantly started shaking her head.

"No! No, I mean, we haven't seen each other in a long time and I wanted to see you. Besides, I'm fine, really"

You almost wanted to laugh at her eagerness, she always managed to look cute without ever trying to. While on the other side of the table, Kara felt so embarrassed she wanted to fly away and never come back.

You resumed talking after the waiter came for your orders "You wanted to see me? You need something?"

yea to be your girlfriend.

"No it's, it's about next week's game night" she seemed to take a breath, pondering her next words "I was wondering if you could come earlier to uh, to help me prepare"

You squinted your eyes at her request, she never wanted any help setting things up, and she always ordered take out so it's not like she needed help in the kitchen.

Taking your silence as an answer, she started fidgeting with her hands. "Yea you're probably busy sorry, don't know why I-"

Kara stopped mid sentence, feeling your hand on hers. "No it's okay hun of course I can, I was just confused." she just nodded, raising her free hand to adjust her glasses.

When your food arrived, you removed your hand and the blonde immediately missed your warmth.

Nothing special happened after that, except for Kara blushing one too many times for her liking.

Once you two finished she had to excuse herself to run back to the office, before Cat would notice she's late. She went to reach for her purse but you stopped her, wrapping your hand gently around her wrist.

"Today it's on me beautiful"

If she hadn't felt her knees buckle at the petname and at your smile, she probably would have been more stubborn; instead Kara just hangs with her mouth open and nods, quickly running away.

- - - -

As soon as she entered the building, she was told by an intern that Cat was looking for her, so with a heavy sigh she ran into her office.

"Is the article I asked you last week-" she asked as soon as Kara got in, sending the blonde a slight glare "finally ready?"

Kara pushed her glasses up "Yes miss Grant, I just need to fix the layout" and she was about to add something, but the breaking news report displayed on the big screens behind Cat caught both of their attention. It was about a bank robbery (Y/S/N) alone just thwaterd.

With an intrigued glint in her eyes, the CEO turned her head to face her employee. "amusing, isn't it? Just a few months ago we all thought they were just Supergirl's side kick, turns out they're equals."

Hearing a scoff coming out from the blonde, she raised an eyebrow "you don't think so, Keera?"

"Of course they're a hero and they're saving people but they're definitely not like Supergirl" taking her boss' silence as a question she continued, and the words left her mouth before she could ponder them.

"Supergirl is serious and wants to get it over as quickly and as efficiently as possible, but they always plays around and get distracted constantly, and they're not serious at all."

"You seem to know a lot about them" she leaned forward, with her arms on her desk, and not caring about the blonde's stuttered excuse, she shrugged her shoulders "well considering you and supergirl are basically best friends"

Kara found a way to get out of this situation "yea she talked to me about them a coup-"

"I want to interview them. Give your current article to Jim or Finn," who was probably Winn "and get me that interview as soon as possible. They've never been in a real interview so it will be a scoop."

Knowing she couldn't even try to argue with the CEO, she nodded her head "you'll have it miss Grant" and got out of her office.

- - -

"what do I do Alex? It's not like I can go as Supergirl and ask them, they'll know something is up and will probably figure out who I am."

Unlike for (Y/S/N), where no one knew who they were, a lot of people knew who Supergirl was, and Kara thought it would be better if no more people knew about her other identity, and that meant hiding from you too, both of you.

"You're giving them a lot credit, I thought you thought they were dumb?" Alex asked with a small smile on her lips.

The kryptonian raised her head from the couch of her apartment, where it was previously buried, and looked at her sister with a frown. "They annoy me because they play around too much and constantly flirt with me but I never said they were dumb, they're actually really smart, and a good hero."

Alex has worked a lot with you so Kara knew she was just joking, but for some reason she still felt the need to defend you. The agent looked at the blonde before suggesting her idea "what if I ask them? They know you're my sister and it wouldn't be weird that I want to help you with your super demanding boss."

"mhh yea, that could work." a soft smile appeared on her lips "Thanks Alex"

Alex just nodded, waving her hand around dismissively. "More importantly," she started again, with a glint in her eyes that made Kara fear of what she was going to say "how did it go with (Y/N)? Are you two a thing yet?"

She started laughing as soon as she heard her sister's loud groan. "ugh I knew you were gonna ask that"

"you didn't tell them, did you?" Alex leaned her arm on the backrest of the couch, leaning her head on her arm.

"I mean I tried to" she glared at her sister's laugh, but she knew she couldn't really blame her "I just, stutter so much around them they must think I'm stupid"

"Ahw I'm sure they don't Kara" she stopped her teasing to reassure the kryptonian "first of all, you two are friends before anything else, second of all they're such a sweet guy they'd never think of you like that"

She stopped for a second, seeing the hopeful gaze in her sister's eyes "and most importantly, I'm sure they like you back, with all the pet names they give you."

"that doesn't mean anything, they call everyone by a nickname"

"you're the only one they call beautiful or pretty or honey or sweetheart or-"

"okay I get I get it" the flustered blonde hid her head between the pillows of the couch, face red from the tip of the nose to the top of the ears, just by thinking of all the times you called her any of these names.

"I mean...(Y/S/N) uses those on me too" the kryptonian resumed, and for some reason the blush didn't leave her cheeks.

- - -

Two days later, you sprinted from your house all the way to the D.E.O. and landed on the balcony, running to find Alex.

You started looking around, the big screens that often showed info about the mission were turned off with no one around, but that's not what caught your attention. Supergirl was nowhere in sight, she must have been called in too right? Unless she couldn't come.

When you noticed dark brown hair sitting at a chair from afar, you got into the director's office, probably breaking the handle with the sheer force you used.

Alex turned her head to look at you.

"What's going on Alex? Where's Supergirl? Is she okay?" The agent got up from her seat to face you.

"Calm down (Y/S/N), she's fine nothing happened" she reassured you "I just need your help with something"

Even though she couldn't see your face, frustration could be heard from your tone. "Nothing happened? You sent me a 911 signal" your shourlders slumped.

"yea because I need your help now"

You loudly groaned, though you were mostly grateful nothing serious happened, especially to Supergirl. "What do you need short Danvers?"

Making fun of her was a privilege you could only have while wearing your suit, given you were normally afraid of her.

Knowing you had the upper hand with your powers, and that it was all just playful teasing, she let it go, voicing her need. "My sister needs to get her boss an interview with you and she knows I work with you and supergirl so she asked for my help"

You opened your mouth to agree but closed it right after, thinking you could get something out of this too. "If I agree to the interview-"

"oh my god" Alex rolled her eyes "I'm not getting Supergirl to go on a date with you"

You loudly laughed at that, everyone knew where your head was at. "that's not what I was going to say!" you took a brief pause "but if that's what your offering..."

She crossed her arms, raising her brow, successfully shutting you up.

"I want to know who she-"

"definitely not" she interrupted you.

"oh come on, why not?" you move your hands in the air "you know who she is, John knows who she is, even Winn knows!"

"It's just safer this way spider, don't argue with me" her excuse didn't really hold up but you let it go for now, it should be Supergirl's call after all.

"fine" you rolled you eyes. And besides, "when's the interview?" you couldn't say no to Kara.

- - -

The next day you were on the roof of CatCo, your legs dangling off the edge.

"oh good you're here" you turned around at the sound of Kara's voice.

"your sister said you needed me" you got closer to her.

"yes hi" she replied quickly "but I will not be the one doing the interview, my boss Cat will" she glanced at the door. "but I need to tell you a few things first"

With a confused look, not that she could see it, you shrugged your shoulders, letting her go on "okay first" she took a big breath, speaking rapidly after that "do not let her drag you into her office, she will have the upper hand and you will not be able to withold information. Second, do not answer any personal life question, no matter how useless you think they are, she could always use them to find out who you really are. Third, don't even think-"

"with all due respect, my lady" you stopped her rant with your hands on her shoulders, and she regained her breath with a slight glare. The reason for it was unkown to you. "I am the superhero between us, so I know what I can and can't say"

And she didin't have time to rebut when she suddenly heard heels clicking their way up the stairs, making her jump away from you.

"Keera, glad to see you were able to do what I asked"

"isn't it Kara?" you spoke loudly, faking innocence, wanting to correct the older woman without being too obvious.

The woman gave you look, but didn't say anything. "can you leave us alone?" she turned to the reporter "I'd like to interview them alone"

- - -

The interview went well, you think, you didn't say anything about yourself and ended up following Kara's instructions. You thought about telling her how it went, but as you got to her desk you noticed her bag and jacket were gone.

"where did Kara go?" you stopped Winn is his steps, knowing he wouldn't be surprised by your presence.

"oh she went home early. She had a thing with (Y/N)- a friend" he corrected himself, thinking you wouldn't know them.

You forrowed your brows, but when your eyes landed on the clock hung on the wall you felt a shiver run down your spine. You were very late. You should have been at Kara's huose over half an hour ago.

You let out an exasperated sigh, "great- uh, I have to- I have to go now. I''l see you at- the DEO...soon?"

Winn only looked at you weirdly but he didin't have time to respond before you patted his shoulder and jumped out of the window, drawing some curious looks.

If Winn didin't know about your crush for supergirl, he'd probably thing you were jelous of yourself.

- - -

After picking up the backpack you left in one of the allies near Catco, you quickly put on some clothes, hiding your suit. You run up the stairs to Kara's apartment, frantically knocking on her door, still breathless and with your hair messy.

She had been pacing around the room for quite a while now so she quickly opened the door to your apologetic smile. "I'm so sorry I'm late love, I had a work thing and I thought about getting you something but it would have just been worse so I didn't"

You tried to explain, but to be honest her mind was still on how cute you looked with your cheeks flushed and how you breathlessly called her "love".

"oh it's fine. It doesn't matter now" she said letting you in, closing the door behind you.

"why? I thought you wanted help with something?" you shrugged your coat off, standing in the middle of the room. Hearing footsteps behind you, you turned around, your eyes meeting Alex's.

"hi, I didn't know you were coming here earlier too" you said, going in for a hug.

"she didn't come here early" Kara answered with a light edge to her tone, going into the kitchen.

"did you forget?" Alex whispered, and her tone wasn't as harsh, but it did sound like she wanted to scold you. It couldn't have been that serious, right?

You shook your head "no I told her I got caugth up in-" James knocking on the door stopped you, and soon after everyone else was there.

- - -

The night was going on smoothly, except for the fact that Kara didn't seat next to you like always, and she was persistent on avoiding your gaze, even tho you could feel her looking at you from time to time. She seemed to fidget more with her hands than usual, so you were sure something was up.

Thinking that asking Alex was not an option, you leaned towards Lena, whispering in her ear when it wasn't her turn to play.

"you know what's wrong with Kara?" she subtly turned to look at you, her lips in a thin line, she didn't need to look at her best friend to know what was going on inside her head.

"she's been like this all night, did she tell you anything?" you pleaded

Said blonde jumped up from the couch, claiming she was going to get another round of snacks and went into the kitchen. The Luthor gave you a nod, silently prompting you to follow the kryptonian, and as you got up to do so, you felt another pair of eyes on you.

You quietly made your way over, Kara's back facing you while she got herself a glass of water.

"uh are you okay?" you uttered, leaning on the counter so you could see her face "I noticed you were acting a bit..strange" you lowered your head, but she was once again avoiding looking at you, using her glass as a distraction.

"did something happen at work?" you met Cat, so you woulnd't be surprised "or-" you gulped, you'd hate to be the reason why she was acting like this "-are you mad I got here late?"

She slammed the glass back on the counter letting a few drops spill out, surprising herself when it didn't break. Kara took a deep breath, before replying "I'm not mad at you, (Y/N)" but it was really hard to believe it.

"okay, then what is it?" you got closer, putting your hand on hers, so she would look at you, and she did. The reporter raised her head, her eyebrows furrowed and her mouth agape, as if she was thinking on what to say. But when nothing came up she resumed to looking at your conjoined hands.

Kara could feel her wrist burning from your hold, and all the whispers and heartbeats she could hear from the other room prevented her from thinking.

"come with me"

You followed her closely, making up a stupid excuse on why you're exiting the apartment, even if none of your friends seemed surprised.

Kara brought you all the way to the roof, and still hasn't uttered a word. And you let her, giving her time.

But after a minute of silence and her pacing around you got in front of her, making her almost bump into you.

"Kara" You called "it's just me. What's going on?"

You smiled in reassurance, but she just forrowed her brows, letting out a big sigh. That wasn't much you could do to help her if she didn't talk unfortunately, you could only look at her.

Look at how her hair was slowly coming out of her ponytail due to the wind, how her eyebrows were so close together you were surprised she hasn't got a headache yet, and how her eyes seemed darker under this light.

And this sight was so familiar, but it didn't feel like you were looking at Kara, not really.

"I know what you want to tell me" you breathed out, and the fact she was looking at your lips is probably the only reason why she was able to hear you.

"you do?"

"yea" you smiled, shaking your head in disbelief "I can't believe I was so blind"

She felt her cheeks heat up, but her heart fell right out of her chest with your next words.

"you're Supergirl"

The super profusely tried to deny it, claiming you drank too much or had a wide imagination. Even going as far as commenting "I wish"

"oh" you raised your brows "so you don't have super strength, laser eyes, ice breath, and you can't fly?"

"no oh my god I could never be her" she let out a shaky laugh, adjusting the glasses on her nose, you couldn't believe they deceived you for such a long time.

You started walking around, getting closer to the edge "mhh you're right, I just thought because you're blonde you might be her" you reasoned, pointing to your hair.

"not the only blonde in National City" she replied and shrug her shoulders, hoping you would just drop the subject, the idea of expressing her feelings long gone.

"such a shame" you were able to see Kara turning on her heels in your peripheral vision "I really hope the real Supergirl comes to my rescue then"

She couldn't have spun her head around faster, but you were already out of sight, falling down the building.

The kryptonian shouted your name, jumping off the edge using her powers. When she couldn't see you anywhere she started panicking even more.

"(Y/N)? (Y/N) where are you?"

"behind you, beautiful" You were smirking with your arms crossed, your feet glued to the wall, steadily keeping you in place.

"what were you thinking about, jumping like that, you could have died, how are you even-" she said it all in one breath, stopping only when a look of realization took over her face.

"I've never seen Kara so pissed at me, it's new"

She let out a big groan, and not sparing you another glance, she got back onto the roof, you following after her.

"were you ever planning on telling me?" she squinted her eyes

"I mean, were you? You and your sister always made sure to tell me how I should keep my identity a secret"

"that's different, I didn't know it was you" she knew she wasn't making any sense, but her brain wasn't working properly at the moment, her heart still hasn't recovered from the scare you gave her, and she had so many things to process.

"come here" you took both of her hands in yours, bringing her closer to you. "I know who you are and you know who I am, doesn't that just mean we can trust each other more?" you offered, running your thumbs along the skin, effectively calming her down.

"I've always trusted you, even when I didn't know who was hiding behind the mask"

"oh, oh I'm sorry" her smile turned into a face of confusion "is it Kara or Supergirl talking? because I know Supergirl would never say something so sweet to me" that earned you a slap to the shoulder.

She rolled her eyes "shut up I take it back, we both think you're annoying"

But you didn't laugh with her, something else occupying your thoughts.

"do you like me, Kara?" you took a step closer, and she didn't have it in herself to take a step back. "you always say it's useless to flirt because there's someone else in your heart and I never asked, but now I'm asking you" you took a brief pause "do you like me?"

She sighed, knowing she couldn't lie to you anymore, so she slightly nodded, curling her eyebrows.

"but you like Supergirl"

"you are Supergirl" you answered matter of factly, but you had a feeling you knew what she was getting at.

"I like her because she has the biggest heart I have ever seen, she' s passionate about her job, both of her jobs, I love how her cape bounces around as she walks and how she can't seem to keep her glasses from falling off"

You brought your hand up her chin, making her look at you, while your other hand adjusted said glasses.

"I've always liked you Kara, all of you, I just thought of this part of you too much of a friend to notice"

Kara was totally hanging from your lips at this point, not only because she was looking at them.

You leaned your head down as she circled the hand that held her face.

"can I kiss you?" you murmured, making her nod vigorously.

"please"

It only took you half a second to close the distance, and you instantly felt Kara reciprocating the kiss, moving her lips against yours in an almost desperate demeanor. Her other hand gripped your shirt to pull you closer and when she felt you fingers on her sweater she gasped lightly.

you broke the kiss after a minute with a bite to her bottom lip, making her let out another small sound and left her chasing after you.

She blinked quickly a few times after she recovered, a deep blush still present on her cheeks. "I like you, too" the blonde replied breathlessly and slowly lowered her hands, not sure what to do with them.

"yea i guessed that" you teased, stealing another kiss.

Soon after that you two decided to head back, after Kara told you everyone knew she was planing on telling you today, and thanking you for the interview.

When you got back into the apartment everyone suddenly stopped talking and looked at you.

"so, did you two kiss?" it was of course Winn who broke the silence, voicing all of their thoughts. You looked over at Kara, and seeing her flushed face, you decided to answer, nodding.

"and I know she's Supergirl" you added, trying to ease the mild akwardness

"and I know you're (Y/S/N)" she retorted, not realizing what she said until she heard gasps all over the small apartment

"Kara!" you tightened your grip on her hand for a second, but she could see you weren't really annoyed. Various confused questions followed your statement, Alex's voice sounding above them

"so, the person who likes to make fun of me and never does as I say" she crossed her arms, letting her lips curve into a smirk as she watched you get behind the krytponian, now aware of the strenght she possessed.

"you know, you should probably focus on something else" you spoke up from behind Kara's shoulder, while gripping the end of her sweater "why don't we go back to the game, you were winning right? isn't it right Kara?"

Said woman smiled at your antics, playfully rolling her eyes "let them go Alex, you can torture them another day"

"no she can't" you tried to argue, but the brunette was already off to get another bear from the fridge.

You suddenly felt the sweater slipping away from your grip, and lowered your head to find Kara now looking at you, with a small smile on her lips.

"come on, let's go play" she pulled on your hand, making you follow her.

She did seat next to you now, still stealing glances when she thought you wouldn't notice, and instantly looking down every time you caught her.

Kara Danvers Masterlist - Supergirl Masterlist

General Masterlist

[rey-jake-therapist]

I'm amazed by the fact that some people hate the idea that Sauron isn't a cardboard cut character but a complex villain who just happens to choose evil over good SO MUCH that when faced with the opposite evidence, aka Sauron expressing some genuine feelings with micro expressions while no other character is looking (hence he can't be accused of manipulating them at this moment), they come with a new trend : "he's deceiving the audience too !"

In season 1 he's visibly emotional when Galadriel tells him about her friend's betrayal and her acquaintance with darkness? Never mind, he's doing it for the audience. He hesitates before taking the king of the Southlands' pouch, indicating that he's making only now the definitive choice to play Galadriel's game? Never mind, it's only for the audience, he obviously had this genius master plan he put in motion the second he met Galadriel ! He says that Morgoth tortured him? C'mon you can't believe that, he lies to make you pity him (because he doesn't need to lie to Celebrimbor at this point, yk?)He cries after he kills Celebrimbor because what he said before dying hit too close to home? Don't let yourself fooled you idiots, he knows you're here and he's deceiving you again !

Like what is that lol Were there any warnings that Sauron knows that there's an audience behind a screen watching him ? Did the showrunners ever warn us that we shouldn't trust any of Sauron's reactions because we're supposed to be deceived by him too? I mean maybe that's the case, but it's just not how storytelling works in general, at least it shouldn't. When a writer writes a character's pov, especially a moment where nobody is watching said character except us, we should be able to trust that what we see is real. How will the audience be invested in this character's story, if they can't trust anything they see? 🤨 And what would even be the point of deceiving the audience if it's not to make a big revelation about this character? I think we all know by now that the guy is evil and won't improve or be redeemed by now. We know how this story ends. Visually lying to the audience about Sauron's true feelings would serve no other purpose than taking pleasure into laughing at the viewers who believe he's more complex than he is. So funny, hahahaha.

The Rings of Power is Sauron's story as much as Galadriel's. Tolkien didn't write this character as a twirling mustache type of character, and sorry to sound naive, but I don't get the feeling from the show and Charlie's performance that the TROP writers wrote him this way either.

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

Little random, but you've answered asks about Disney Princess movies before a while ago.

What are your thoughts on Frozen and Anna and Elsa?

Thoughts on Frozen

People like it, but to me it's a thoroughly "ok" film. It's far from Disney's best, not one of the worst, but sort of middle of the road. The plot's a giant mess and was clearly subject to last minute revisions (Hans's sudden villainy comes across as so sudden that it fails to make the point it was trying to make. It wasn't necessary, as the point Elsa makes isn't invalidated even if he wasn't evil and Anna still could have dropped him at the end. And we just get this "YOU FOOL, DIDN'T YOU KNOW I WAS THE MUSTACHE TWIRLING VILLAIN ALL ALONG?!" To which I can only say, "No, Hans, I didn't know that, kind of makes that scene where you left the castle to look for Anna personally very pointless. Nobody would have questioned you, dude." It makes a lot more sense when you consider Elsa was supposed to be the antagonist/misguided in initial drafts and the then desperate need for somebody to be the bad guy.)

Tangled, by comparison, is a much more put together film and in my opinion is much better, but it didn't have a hit song sung by Idina or Anna's adorable nerdiness and Elsa's general angst.

So Frozen gets to be the beloved film for over ten years on, rejuvenating the Disney brand for another generation, and I just have to sit there and take it.

(Perhaps a hot take, I'm not tuned in enough to know, but I thought Frozen 2 was much better as a film in general, much more put together/hard hitting, though it had far less memorable music/the big numbers just weren't as good. It's also a lot more hard-hitting, with none of the comedy and very little of the narrative of empowerment.)

Anna and Elsa

I do like these two and they're very believable characters who do go through character development that feels very real.

In Anna we have an isolated, awkward, young adult who is convinced that 'love' will save her, doesn't know where she stands with what was once a beloved older sister, and when she fucks things up tries to fix it without really addressing the issues she had in the first place until the very end of the movie.

She's fun, she's relatable, if short-sighted and naive, and it's clear that she does have to learn something from her adventure, and that she really didn't understand her sister and what she was going through.

In Elsa, we have someone who has been under immense pressure her entire life while also knowing that she has this terrible secret which means she will never live up to what she has to be to rule a nation. She ends up isolated from her younger sister out of terror of hurting her, which damages their relationship, and she too has growth where when we first meet her in the film, she sees coronation as only a one-day event she has to simply get over with as quickly as possible.

She's also a very relatable character, her struggle is something that speaks to a lot of people and has been iconic for over a decade for a reason, and she's refreshing in that her problems despite being a female lead have nothing to do with men and a man never enters the picture for her.

Even her moment of "WHEEEEEEEE I'M FREEE!" to Anna arriving and "NOOOOOOOOOO! ALL MY ACTIONS HAD TERRIBLE CONSEQUENCES!" is a great one as Elsa is only then really forced to confront both herself, her loved ones, and finally accept who she is by the end of the film.

TL;DR

Basically, I like both characters and I think people really like them for a reason.

But I do think the movie's a hot mess.