#i'm a notepad addicts

[yourheart-inmyhands]

Hii, just call me Skull anon. I've been very curious about how different yanderes would do so I'm asking for a request.

How would Xiao, Albedo, and Wriothesley deal with a Drug addict reader who was already in an unstable state, struggling to survive with rent and had bad trauma? The trauma could be anything you'd like.

Of course, you can deny this request if it makes you uncomfortable. No pressure or anything.

so i was a little hesitant to do this because I wasn't sure how well I could properly portray this, but going sort of off my own experience with certain things and trying to remain calm i wrote this. i can't really explain what compelled me to, but i do hope you enjoy this and please, read the warnings for this one :] <3

Warning: this post contains yandere-themes, including delusional behaviors, implied being held against will, manipulation tactics, mentions of substance abuse and recovery from it, obsessive behaviors, and other potential topics. Please Read At Your Own Risk!

Yandere!Xiao would be concerned internally but look indifferent externally. He’s conflicted, because he knows you’re struggling and that humans are a lot weaker, that you need help, but he doesn’t know how to help, he’s never had to be in this position before. He consults many people, fellow adepti, Zhongli, even the Traveler, none of whom he gives the full picture to but instead dances around the main ideas and works off vague descriptions.

Xiao’s first step in helping you was moving you in to the Wangshu Inn with him, where he could watch over you better. He has a reserved room there, though he never really uses it. Sleep is beyond his needs so he rarely rests, but you need rest so he allows you to have the room. This comes with him barging in on you whenever he sees fit though, day to night at any moment he could pop in without you even knowing. He had a strange way of doing that, a lot. He isn’t sure how to help with trauma or substance abuse, those aren’t the evils he usually fights, but he knows people he can ask about that. Xiao didn’t like admitting that he didn’t know what to do, but grumbling and giving Baizhu some vague descriptions of the situation helped him get a better idea of what to do. Xiao decides to take the soft approach of slowly weening you off the awful stuff, not wanting you to be left with more problems from quitting cold turkey. It’s a long road and Xiao was sorta kinda prepared to help you through it. He likes having you this close though, this dependent on him and his help.

Yandere!Albedo struggles with his feelings. His lack of humanity means he really only experiences feelings that are typically in abundance, meaning he doesn’t feel unless the feeling is so strong it cannot be ignored. His research is all he really knows so he takes the opportunity to offer ‘assistance.’ In exchange for staying with him and allowing him to study your responses and reactions, he would help you with your addiction.

It seemed like a good deal at first, Albedo would provide adequate housing, a quaint apartment in the heart of Mondstat, in exchange for being allowed to study you as he helped you over your drug problem. It would kill two birds with one stone no? What he didn’t tell you though was that he planned to have you quit cold turkey, wanting to watch how your body would respond to the sudden withdrawals. Of course, if anything started to border on the edge of life-threatening, he’d take preventative measures to ensure you lived, but otherwise, you were not permitted to leave or take any addictive substances. Albedo oversees all your care, meaning that for the entire recovery process, you are confined to a bedroom with him hovering over you, notepad and pencil in hand and large, unblinking eyes boring holes into you. It was unsettling, and even when you were on the upswing, finally getting to where the grass was greener, he still refused to allow you out or allow others in, saying that it could compromise the research. In reality, he just didn’t want anyone else near you, he had loved having you all to himself and didn’t want to share you ever again.

Yandere!Wriothesley is surprisingly educated on what to do. Not only had a few people in similar conditions come through the prison, but it was his job to make sure that he knew everything about everyone who passed into this place. With the help of some staff at the Fortress of Meropide, he moves you into a room in the staff wing, assigning you a set of personalized staff to help with your addictions. There were only two conditions, he would check in on you every day to ensure you were sticking to your recovery and that when you were finally okay, you would work as his assistant to pay off your debt. 

Wriothesley wasn’t worried about the money that was put towards your recovery, it was nothing to someone with the title of Duke. He was more concerned with you being alive than momentary pleasures like wealth, but he used the excuse of you needing to pay him back to keep you around longer. He checks in with you every day, typically around dinner time, he’ll take a break to eat with you and talk about your day, building a relationship and establishing a connection, but sometimes he takes short breaks to check in on you. Wriothesley also speaks with the assigned group of nurses and staff that were there specifically for you every day, getting word from them on your progress and how things are looking. He enjoys seeing you slowly getting better day by day, his hope for the future strong as he dreams of the day you become officially his. He had no intention of ever letting you leave the Fortress of Meropide, at least not without him, arm wrapped protectively around you as he escorts you around, as a partner should.

#genshin x reader #genshin x male reader #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin x male reader #xiao x reader #xiao x male reader #yandere xiao x reader #yandere xiao x male reader #albedo x reader #albedo x male reader #yandere albedo x reader #yandere albedo x male reader #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley x male reader #yandere wriothesley x reader #yandere wriothesley x male reader #yandere xiao #yandere albedo #yandere wriothesley #yandere genshin

[shoukiko]

Merry Christmas, Simon

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x reader

Tags: Fluff....just fluff lol

Word Count: 1.4k

A/N: I've been working on this for a bit, just waiting to post it today, I'm all antsy, I really hope you guys like it.

You’ve worked with TF141 for the past three years. Price spoke to Laswell, saying that he thought the team deserved some type of break, so he and Laswell came up with an “amazing holiday getaway” to “a hidden oasis where the only sounds you hear are the rustling leaves and the soothing melody of birdsong.”. It was a small cabin in the middle of nowhere, for safety reasons, but you were all grateful for it. It was 2 weeks away, a day would’ve been fine, but she insisted.

It was a week and two days into the trip, snowing outside, your turn for chores. Soap and Gaz sat on the couch in front of an old television watching some soap opera. Price is sitting in one of the lounge chairs, asleep with his arms crossed as his head dangles. You’re tidying up the kitchen after a late dinner, you turn to look at the clock hung on the wall which reads, 12:05. You realize what this entails as you turn to the three men.

“Merry Christmas, guys!” You say cheerfully in their direction. 

“Merry Christmas, Lass.” Soap says from his seat, he nudges Gaz to respond. “Ah- Yea Merry Christmas…” He seems to be too focused on the TV show, who can blame him, those telenovelas are addicting. You decide against waking Price up, the man needs his sleep. As you turn back to the sink you feel a tap on your left shoulder, you turn to see Ghost’s tall dark figure hovering over you, sporting his casual skull balaclava.

“Oh, hey. What’s up?” You tilt your head as you ask, genuinely curious as to what he could need that requires a tap on the shoulder instead of him outright asking.

“You got a minute? Wanted to see if we could have a quick chat.” His tone is somewhat nervous? He isn’t as husky or gritty as usual. “Sure, let me finish up and-” He cuts you off before you can finish. “It’s important. I’ll help you out after.” 

Must really be important if the Ghost tells you it is. “Alright.” You wipe your hands on your apron, untying it from your back and hanging it up on a nearby chair. “Grab your coat.” He dons his own coat, all in one fell swoop. You grab yours, putting it on. 

You both head outside to the porch, each taking a seat on the swinging bench that hangs from the veranda. “Ah wait here-” He says, standing once more, he heads inside and comes back hiding something in his coat. “Whatcha got there, Mister?” You ask him as he sits back down, the bench shifts slightly from his weight.

He pulls out a plastic bag that contains multiple little things, he hands it to you. Taking notice of the slight blush at the end of his fingertips you slowly take the bag. “Merry Christmas… Sorry, didn’t get to wrap it.” A bashful tone in his voice.

“You.. got me something? Man, I feel a little bad, if I would’ve known I would’ve done the same..” You say, hesitating to open it. “Don’t fret over it… Are you gonna open it or just stare at it?”

“Ah right- Sorry” You carefully reach into the bag and pull out one of the small items. It’s… 

“Socks! You got me socks?!” A smile appears on your face, beaming in the night. Despite the mask, his eyes crinkled with a smile. “There’s more if you look.” 

You open the bag more and find more small items, a small tube of vanilla scented lotion, a notepad, and some cinnamon wax melts. You’re happy, but oh so confused by the difference of each item.

“This is… Thank you. I really love it, but what’s with the theme?” You ask with a laugh.

“Well…” He pauses to think for a minute. “It’s all things you wanted.” “Huh..?”

“A couple days ago you said you couldn’t find your winter socks, then you said you forgot your hand cream back at home, then you said while eating dinner two nights ago that you love the smell of cinnamon during Christmas because it reminds you of good memories from your childhood.” You’re taken aback, you don’t remember saying any of these things until he brings it up, such small things and yet he remembers. 

“You… you actually remember?” A faint blush appears on your face as you scan over your new gifts, suddenly feeling warm despite the subzero temperatures. “Uhm.. Thank you.. Really. Was this what you wanted to talk to me about?”

“No, actually.” His expression becomes somber as he closes his eyes and takes a breath, he turns his body slightly and rests his arm on the back of the bench. “Look, I don’t know how else to bring this up.”

“What’s wrong?”

Ghost grips the back of the bench before meeting your eyes.

"Listen, I've been thinkin' a lot lately, and I reckon I need to be straight with you. You mean a proper lot to me, more than I can put into words. I'm mad about you, every single goddamn I hear your voice or that stupid laugh.. It’s like something shifts in me. I care about you, more than  I have about anyone in a long time, but…”

Your heart beating out of your chest, uncertain on how to respond. All you can let out is a

“But..?”

He looks down, almost like he’s ashamed before responding.

“I’m.. scared, terrified. Of hurting you.. Or you getting into an accident during a mission. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if something happened to you.” His tone is serious, but you can hear a sense of fear.

You look at him with genuine eyes, you almost can’t believe what’s happening in front of you, the Ghost confessing his feelings for you. “But…” He continues. “If you’ll have me, I’m willing to take that leap into uncertainty with you. If… you want.”

You look at him as if you’re a deer caught in headlights. You begin to lose your breath, blinking,  unable to process what was said to you. You take a moment before replying…

“I- I….” You struggle to find the words, you want to scream, but you also want to take it slow and really talk about it. You can see him become antsy, your silence bringing tension to the cold air around you. “Ghost I..”

“It’s fine.” He interrupts.

“What?”

“It’s fine, I know it’s sudden. I’m sorry.” He says, there's a slight hurt in his voice, he goes to stand. Just then you grab his arm, stopping him.

“I want.” “...What..?” “You said if I want…. Well.. I want, I don’t know how else to say it. I do want to be with you. I want to jump into that uncertainty with you. Please.” There’s a tinge of desperation in your voice, you feel as if you say nothing now, you will never have this opportunity again.

Ghost looks as if a wave of relief has washed over him. 

“I thought you were gonna make me think I said all that for nothin’.” His eyes crinkle slightly as he adjusts himself once more.

“I’m sorry, I got nervous, I didn’t want to say the wrong thing.” You begin to fidget with your hands in your lap, a faint blush appearing on your faces as you turn away. 

You feel him inching closer to you, the heat from his body radiating, bringing warmth for both of you to share.

He softly grabs your face with his right hand, turning you towards him. You take glances at his mask and eyes, unable to lock on a single thing. He pulls up his mask just above his nose and leans in, pressing his lips against yours. Only a few seconds before you lean into him, grabbing onto the sleeve of his coat. He places a hand on the back of your neck, pulling you in closer. You pull away for just a second to catch your breath. The both of you share a look, complete silence, then..

He chuckles, “Well then..” You place a hand on your mouth as you stare at him, stifling a small laugh. “That was something.” You manage to say through your giggles. You place your hand on his, a loving smile forms on your lips. He begins to caress the back of your hand, his touch gentle, yet warm. “Thank you…. Merry Christmas, Doll.” He looks up at you with gentle eyes.

“Merry Christmas, Simon.”

#cod x reader #cod mw2 #simon ghost riley imagine #simon ghost riley #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost x you #simon riley call of duty #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley imagine #simon riley x y/n #ghost cod #cod ghost #ghost mw2 #ghost call of duty #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley fanfiction #simon riley #ghost simon riley #shoukiko #cod #cod mwii #cod modern warfare #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #mw2

[vanwritesfan-fiction]

Addiction

Part Three: Don't Get Caught in the Crossfire

(Read Part One and Part Two)

Warnings: smut, language, mentions of cheating and couple fighting

You were racked with guilt after your night with Jack. Honest to God, you really were. From this moment on, you were going to forget about him, turn your life around, and be the girlfriend that Darien rightfully deserved.

Did that sound convincing enough?

You had practiced all morning in the mirror as you got ready for work. You buttoned your blouse like you hadn't kiss another man last night. You slid your skirt over your hips like you weren't thinking of the way Jack took control over you, had you submitting to his every desire. You applied a thick coat of mascara to hide your tired eyes after you didn't get a wink of sleep thinking about how good he tasted on your tongue.

The grind stopped for no one, not even cheating whores.

Atlantic Records was essentially an archive of musical prowess for the last 76 years, and you had spent the last three of those years getting coffee for some of the greats. You had learned to laugh to keep from crying at the fact that your life hadn't gotten much farther than a tiny desk with your own monogramed notepad, courtesy of the company of course.

It wasn't that you didn't have bigger dreams for yourself. In fact, when you moved to New York six years ago, fresh out of college, you had that same twinkle in your eye that you now snickered at when you saw it in the next up and coming artist that walked through the double doors of the record label. You didn't want to be the talent, but manage it, curate it, nurture it until your artist had their own photo hanging in the hall. The problem was you got comfortable.

That was the story of your life. Once you got somewhere, you got too comfortable. You settled, even downgraded if it meant that you wouldn't have to face change. It was the reason you were still an assistant even though you'd been offered opportunities to climb the ranks, and why it took you so long to get out of relationships that you knew weren't right for you. Its why you were still in a relationship with Darien after three very long years.

Dull, naïve Darien. He never stood a chance in the world.

As you approached the VP’s office, you noticed a large bouquet of roses planted on the edge of your desk. “Did you see who left these flowers?” You plucked the card from the arrangement before turning to Sophia, another assistant who sat across the way from you. “No. They were here before I got into the office”, she shrugged before turning back to her computer. “They’re probably for Jason’s wife, and he accidently had them delivered them to the wrong address again.” You placed your bag and coat down before carefully opening the envelope so you could confirm.

I want to see you tonight. 8 PM -J

Jack had sent you the flowers. He knew where you worked; you had offered that information up to him at the party like an eager puppy. You looked frantically around the room as if you expected him to be standing behind you. That was the kind of hold he had on you after knowing him for only 48 hours. As much as you despised him and never wanted to see him again, a small part of you hoped that he would take you away from all of the monotony, make you feel an ounce of the thrill you felt last night.

"What does it say? Its not one of his dirty jokes again, is it?" Sophia was standing next to you, peeking over your shoulder. You quickly tucked the card back into the envelope and tossed it into the trashcan. "Uh, no. They delivered it to the wrong floor. I'm gonna take it to Hannah up on 15." You moved so quickly, sweeping the vase off the desk and heading toward the elevator, Sophia didn't even have a chance to react.

You rounded the corner, checking your surroundings as you approached the elevator bay. The last time you were waiting for an elevator, you found out not only were you cheating on your boyfriend, but you were also the other woman in another relationship. So far, you were two for two in the most twisted game ever. The doors swung open and you entered the elevator car, but instead of hitting the button for the 15th floor, you hit the button for the ground level. The elevator led straight to the parking deck, opening at the back of the building where the larger trash cans were located. You tossed the vase of flowers into the garbage, hearing the glass shatter as it hit the bottom.

You were serious about turning your life around. Jack Harlow would have to find someone else to play his games with.

****

As part of your attempt to be a reformed girlfriend, as soon as you got home that evening, you decided to cook Darien's favorite meal for his homecoming. He was coming home from London tonight after being away from New York for the past two weeks on a work trip. He did something with computers or servers, something like that. He had tried to explain it to you but you tuned him out after ten minutes. You shuffled your feet through the front door of your apartment with your hands full of bags from Whole Foods, the ingredients for Penne alla Vodka weighing your arms down.

It was the dish you both ordered on your first date. Darien never really wowed you, but he always knew how to find the best restaurants in the city. The two of you were cozied in a little booth of a mom and pop Italian restaurant on the upper west side, and as you tasted the combination of sweet tomatoes and kick of spices, you thought that maybe you could see a future with this guy who thought the world of you. There was no way you could completely replicate the dish, but you would at least try, hoping it would help you draw some of those memories back.

You heard Darien's keys slip into the lock just as you were plating the dish. You ran over to meet him, opening the door before he could grasp the handle. "Hi!" You knew you sounded overly excited but you were really trying to sell it; to him or yourself you weren't really sure.

"Hey", Darien let out a sigh as he dropped his bags by the door. You could see the exhaustion plastered on his face after a long flight. "What smells amazing?" He looked around you at the kitchen, seeing only a few of the dishes you had dirtied while cooking.

"I made your favorite." You squeezed his forearm as he led you to the kitchen. "Penne alla Vodka?", he questioned, grabbing a spoon from the silverware drawer, "I thought you didn't like cooking." You shrugged, giving him a big grin. He was right, you despised cooking, and were very vocal about how much you hated it, but as you said this morning, this was a new you. Someone who cooked for their boyfriend, without complaining.

"Not bad", he nodded as he took a taste of the sauce. "I'm fucking starving."

Thank God everything was working in your favor tonight.

As Darien turned around to grab a plate from the cabinet, you intercepted him, crashing lips with him, your hands wrapping around his neck. He was hesitant at first but you weren't going to let him go, deepening the kiss, lips pressed against each other hard. You were gasping for breath when he pulled away. You expected him to be happy, but his face was one of disgust, startling you. He wiped at his mouth before reaching around you to grab a plate.

"What's gotten into you?" You stood frozen as he moved around the kitchen like he hadn't just rejected you.

"I didn't know it was such a shock to kiss my boyfriend." Your hands shook, your limbs beginning to go numb. You didn't expect such a visceral reaction to his actions, but you were truly hurt.

"Its not, but I just got home from a long trip. Can I just breathe for a second before you're all over me?" He let out a huff that almost set you off. You took a deep breath trying to remember who you were trying to be. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize I was such an inconvenience to you." You curled into yourself, wrapping your arms around your chest.

"Fuck, Y/N!" You jumped as Darien threw his plate down, the porcelain rattling against the counter. "Why the fuck are you jumping down my throat?!" His voice was booming as he screamed at you. He had never yelled at you, let alone raised his voice, even during some of your most heated arguments.

"I am not jumping down your throat! What the fuck is your problem?" You gritted out through clenched teeth.

"My problem is that I get back from a trip, and my girlfriend, who hasn't so much as touched me in the last month, suddenly has her tongue down my throat." You could see the vein pulse in his neck, his face beet red.

"Don't pretend like you give any effort in this relationship, D. Fuck! When's the last time we did anything that didn't revolve around your hobbies or work? I can only go to so many stupid fucking company parties and talk to the fucking most boring people before I want to jump off a building." You balled up your fists, digging your nails into the palm of your hand.

"Yeah, well you're not the only one who's been pretending." He pushed past you to the living room. Most of your arguments ended when he decided he'd had enough and walked away, but you were too upset to let this go. You followed behind him. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

He sat down at the couch, resting his head in his hands. His tone was eerily calm and even. "We both know there hasn't been any love in this relationship for a long time." He scratched at his scalp, afraid to look up, knowing you were standing there. "I don't know who we're kidding here, Y/N." You couldn't believe how you'd gotten to this point. This night had escalated so fast, you had whiplash.

"You know what Darien. I don't have to take this. Fuck you." His head shot up just in time to watch you grab your purse and keys and slam the door behind you. You checked your phone as you headed down the street to the nearest subway stop. 7:35 PM. You had just enough time to get to the Waldorf before 8 PM.

****

Jack was still dressed in a crisp white dress shirt, the buttons open far enough to reveal a tuft of chest hair and his white tank underneath, and a pair of slim black suit pants, when he opened the door. You were standing in the hallway, out of breath from having to run the last few stops to get to his room in time. The first thing he noticed was the tears in your brimming in your lashes.

"What happened?" He asked as you began to come apart in front of him, tears rolling off your cheeks onto the floor. He gripped the door frame with such force. , feeling his fingers press into the wood. He had to resist the urge to find whoever had hurt you like this. "Can I come in please?", you wiped a stray tear from you cheek, your gaze at the ground. Jack stepped aside to let you into the room, studying you carefully to see if you were hurt in anyway besides emotionally.

You sat at the foot of the bed, forgoing any formalities of choosing the couch again after the night you'd had together last night. "What happened?" Jack asked again as he unclasped his watch, placing it on the dresser. You fiddled with the hem of your sweater before you looked over at him. "Darien came home and we had a fight." Jack let out a humorless chuckle and shook his head as he undid his belt, the metal buckle clanking as he slid it out of the belt loops of his pants.

"Are you okay?" You watched as he undid the rest of the buttons of his shirt, shrugging it off and folding it over a nearby chair. "I'm at the hotel room of the guy I'm sleeping with behind my boyfriend's back. Yeah, I'm just peachy." Your words were laced with sarcasm, but Jack enjoyed your quip, giving you a grin. He was dressed down to his tank top and boxers at this point. "Get undressed."

"What? I didn't come here to have sex with you." You stumbled to your feet, hoping you hadn't given him the indication you wanted to sleep with him. Jack moved toward you, cradling your head in his hands once you were chest to chest. He kissed you roughly, pulling your bottom lip into his mouth with his teeth, his tongue roaming your mouth. It was the same move you'd tried with Darien earlier, your way of letting him know that you wanted him right there in the moment.

You leaned into him as he backed away, wanting to continue the kiss. He wiped underneath your eyes, collecting any residual wetness. "I know you didn't come here to have a heart to heart. Now get undressed, before I do it for you." He placed a kiss on your jawline before leaving you standing in the middle of the room, to sit on the bed. He leaned back on his forearms, his eyes glazed over with lust as he watched you. You felt scrutinized under his stare, scared to undress in front of him for some reason.

"Don't make me ask again." He gave you that same strict tone that scared you last night, but tonight, it only made your core tighten.

Jack sat up, growing impatient with your lack of compliance. "C'mere." He held his hand out, and you took it, moving to stand in between his open legs. His hands were cold as they snaked underneath your top, first touching your stomach, before moving to cup your breasts over your bra.

"The fact that the first thing Darien didn't do was fuck you so hard you couldn't talk, is fuckin' ridiculous." He unhooked your bra with one hand, helping you to remove your sweater over your head, your bra straps slipping off your shoulders. He pressed a kiss between your bare breasts before moving to unbutton your jeans. "If that had been me, you wouldn't have been able to argue." Your hands found his curls, your nails raking through his hair as he pushed your jeans to the floor.

He toyed with the band of your tiny thong, ripping the fabric too easily. You stood in front of him, stark naked, your nipples budding in the cold of the room. "Some guys don't know when they have something perfect in front of them." He cupped your ass cheeks with his hands, pushing you toward him so you straddled his lap. You let out a content sigh as he took one of your nipples in his mouth, gently sucking on your skin, his other hand grazing against your pussy.

He looked up with you with those blue eyes that made you incredibly weak, his hands never leaving your body. This was more affection than you'd felt in months, something you'd desperately been missing.

"You deserve someone who will worship you." He whispered against your skin, as he leaned back, pulling your weight on top of him. "Do you understand?" You nodded, gently kissing his swollen lips.

"This is your last chance to leave." You weren't expecting him to give you an out, that was the last thing on your mind right now, but that was how he kept you under his spell. He gave you the illusion of control. He never met you anywhere, you always had to come to him. You had to make the decision to come to his hotel room, and while you felt for a split second like you were making your own decision, he knew there was no way you weren't coming. You were drawn to him, physically and spiritually. He was an escape, one you desired more than anything.

Instead of speaking, you climbed off his lap and flipped onto your back, bringing him toward you by his head. You latched onto his neck, applying even suction as he moved his hand to your legs, tickling your inner thighs before moving toward your core, pressing your thumb against your sensitive clit. You let out a sharp breath at the sensation, your nails digging into Jack's back.

"God, you're really that desperate for me to fuck you, huh?" Your answer was a sweet hum as you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth. "I want you to say it." He pressed one of his large fingers against your entrance, feeling just how tight your pussy was. He slowly pushed his finger inside of you, slowly thrusting against your fluttering walls. When you didn't answer he pulled out of you. You whimpered, trying to kiss him again, but he pulled away. "If you want something from me, you have to tell me what you want."

"I want you to fuck me, so bad, Jack." You sounded pitiful, but you didn't care. He punctuated your begging by sliding two fingers into you this time, making your back arch as his digits disappeared in and out of you. You felt your toes and fingers begin to tingle as he continued to finger you, feeling you clench down around his hand as you got close to your orgasm.

"Good girl. You want something, all you have to do is ask." He pulled his fingers out of you again, leaving you with an agonizing emptiness. "Jack, please." You grasped at his hair, as your hips bucked up toward him, but he held you down with one hand as he moved to hover over you, pushing his boxers down past his knees. His cock sprung free, already hard from your moans as he pleasured you. He collected some of your wetness, using it to stroke his dick before lining himself up with you.

He gave you an inch, and that almost felt like too much as you felt him stretching you out. He gave you a minute to adjust as he stroked your cheek, slowly pushing himself inside of your pussy until he had bottomed out. "Such a good girl for me, taking me all the way." He slowly began to move his hips back and forth, and you were already gripping the sheets, feeling fuller each time he re-entered you. "I've been thinking about you all day. Couldn't wait to feel how tight your pussy was."

The first forceful thrust took your breath away, but you were quickly lost in pleasure as he set a vicious pace, your ass slapping against his pelvis with every movement. True to his word, he was determined to remove any spiteful words from your vocabulary, and you were a babbling mess, no control of the squeals and moans that left your lips as he continued to fuck you. Without stopping, he grabbed at your thighs, kissing your calves before he pushed your knees to your shoulders, further exposing your pussy to him. This new angle hit your g-spot every time, making you cry out. "Fucckkkk, Jack." Your voice vibrated through your chest as you struggled to speak.

Jack chuckled as you tried to move his hand toward your throat. "Is that what you like? You want me to choke you, pretty girl?" You felt your core tighten, you were so close to your orgasm, your legs beginning to shake. "You know what you have to do."

"Please", was all you could utter out, and that was enough for Jack as he gently grabbed at your throat, careful to only squeeze at the sides and not constrict your airflow. The combination of pain and pleasure was enough to send you over the edge, and within seconds you were coming around Jack's cock, your eyes rolling back into your head as you orgasmed. With each pulse of your pussy you pulled him in deeper, making Jack grown as he was close to his own release.

You saw stars as he continued to fuck you through your orgasm, his thrusts starting to falter as he came, his cum filling you up. He collapsed onto the bed next you as his chest heaved with each breath. You both laid in silence as you came down from your highs, Jack's hand resting on your lower stomach.

He eventually leaned over, kissing you lazily as he cupped the side of your face, having lost all of his energy. "You have to go." He whispered against his mouth. Your eyes shot open at his words. "Why?" He could see the flash of hurt over your face. "She's gonna come back any minute." You felt your stomach turn as you remembered that you had just slept with a man in a committed relationship, again.

The new you had just left the building. Fuck.

You pushed yourself off the bed, quickly getting dressed. "I can't believe I did this again. What the fuck is wrong with me?" Jack watched you before standing up to pull his boxers back up. It looked like you were going to spiral, and he didn't have time for any self deprecation. "Hey", he grabbed at your arm, forcing you to stop. "You belong to me, always will." He grabbed your phone off the bed and put his number in your contacts. He knew you needed that reassurance as much as he hated to give it to you. Your body relaxed, your eyes softening as you looked at him. He was dangling the bait in front of you, and you grabbed it a little too easily.

****

You were quiet as you opened the door to the apartment, surprised to see that all of the lights were on and Darien was still in the same place on the couch were you had left him. He was now more relaxed, a half empty beer in his hand the reason. 'Where did you go?" He asked, looking at you with tears in his eyes. You sighed, not wanting to continue your fight. "I needed a moment to think." You placed your keys in the bowl of your entry way table.

"We need to talk. Can you please sit down?" He gestured toward the chair, and you sat down, thankful to give your legs a rest.

"I'm sorry for snapping at you." Darien looked at you, waiting for your apology, but you remained tight lipped. "I need to tell you something. I wasn't honest with you tonight, and I know you deserve that." You felt your breath hitch with anticipation.

"When I was in London, I went out with my team to one of the local bars, and we had a lot to drink." He placed the bottle on the coffee table. "Ok", you croaked out, "did something happen?"

He started to cry again as he sat looking at you. "I was really drunk and when I went back to the hotel room, Ashley, you met her at the Christmas party." Redhead, pretty, you always felt she was too handsy with Darien. You nodded.

"One thing led to another and we slept together. It was only one time, and I regret it completely." You slowly closed your eyes and leaned back in the chair. The irony was not lost on you, in fact, it was a blaring neon sign right in your face.

Poor, stupid Y/N. You never stood a chance in the world.

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#jack harlow #jackman thomas harlow #jackharlow #jackman harlow #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow fanfic

[hhawks]

BELLYACHE.

✰ starring: hawks/keigo takami x fem!reader ✰ synopsis: as the number two hero, hawks has the ability to do conceivably anything he wants. spend any amount of money, travel to even the most remote places in the world, and even cover up the string of murders committed by the girl he’s deathly in love with. ✰ content: lovesick-to-the-point-of-crime hawks, serial killer on da loose, mentally-ill-but-also-not-really reader, slight domestic vibes, hawks wants to marry a serial killer <3, bloodlust, mentions of addiction, a liiiittle bit of consumption imagery, medical/anatomical problems because i'm Not a biology student i had to call my stem brother for advice ✰ warnings: descriptive murder, killing, wee bit of gore, clinical insanity tbh, INTENSE daddy kink, overstimulation, face fucking, somnophilia, mild dubcon at the end <3  ✰ word count: 14.1k ✰ a/n: it’s kinda fucked up but also not fucked up enough to warrant like, a psychiatric visit for me. part of my own one with the wind collab for the love of myyy lifeeeeee <3 lowkey self indulgent i just want to murder people

he lifts the police tape up with one hand, a cup of coffee in the other. the morning is gloomy, clouds on the precipice of pouring down tears, the air humid. it's one of those days he wishes he could spend at home, but alas; duty calls.

"what are we lookin' at?" he asks, sipping his latte. it's a little on the bitter side even though he'd asked specifically for extra sugar, but it'll be fine. he winces, swallowing anyway.

"mr hawks," the officer greets him. "good morning. it's another case."

"of?" stupid question. it's too early in the morning for his brain to function at maximum capacity, so it takes him a few seconds before he shakes his head. "oh. forget i asked."

"that's no problem mr. hawks," the officer nods nonchalantly. "the same lookup. drained of blood, needle puncture wounds in the wrists, elbows. sliced open from collarbone to diaphragm." they both look at the body on the ground, a pale girl with blonde hair, dark eyes wide open in a permanent state of shock. hawks almost feels bad for the girl, stripped naked down to her hips, her flesh split. he hopes the incision was made at least after she had died.

"so all the same markings of the crimson reaper then?" he takes another swig of his coffee. the girl definitely put up some kind of fight, with bruises on her arms, hands. but, as always, nothing of the killer is left on her body. not any skin under her nails, not any fingerprints. the crimson reaper knew what they were doing. they always do.

the officer nods, their cap tipped almost over their green eyes, hair tucked neatly into a bun. hawks looks down at them as they look at their notepad. "without a doubt," they say grimly. "that's the fourth case this month."

hawks remembers the day he was assigned to the case of the crimson reaper. he, endeavour, best jeanist; all of the top-ranking pro-heroes were called into the same hero safety public commission conference room on a monday morning, one just like this. gloomy, threatening to rain down judgement on the streets of musutafu. the president ran a hand through her hair, somehow greyer than it had originally been, eyes tired and sunken in. "good morning president," hawks chirped, trying to brighten the mood. "you look chipper as ever."

"thank you, mr. takami," she said, her tone clipped, blunt. "i'm sure all of you know why we've gathered you in here." of course they did. almost all of the pro-heroes were in the know of them, their signature killing style of draining the victim completely of their blood while still alive through various needles in the victim's arms and elbows, before slicing their chest open to leave a single, bright red rose petal.

dubbed the crimson reaper, this killer has ravaged the streets of musutafu, instilling fear within the hearts of the citizens. no one has any idea who it could be; the hero commission have vowed a full investigation into finding them, dead or alive. the crimson reaper doesn't discriminate; there have been no found connections or patterns in the victims that they take; only that they all end up with the same rose petal nestled safely between their lungs.

the problem, though, lay with the fear of the people. "we cannot let the crimson reaper take away the ability of the citizens to feel safe walking along streets, or in their homes," the president briefed. "we need to find this sick, twisted psycho, and bring them to justice."

23 cases in six months. it was beginning to be a persistent worry in the minds of many pro-heroes, but hawks especially. he had a weird, personal affinity to each case, and plus, the hspc president put him on the spot when she asked, "takami, we want you to be the leading agency on this case." and being their number one lackey, he couldn't say no.

so here he is. a small drizzle is breaking out above him now, and he watches the officers scramble to set up the tentage between the two walls of the alleyway, careful not to let rain tamper with the evidence. he looks up, at the crack between rain clouds and how a trickle of sunlight wedges its way between them. a blessed morning, despite everything.

hawks crouches by the body, looking for anything out of the ordinary, different from the previous cases. examines the clean, precise incision along the victim's chest, pink and crimson blending into a strangely beautiful medley of flesh and blood. the flaps of flesh have been stretched, pulled away, the gaping gash of her chest exposing her lungs and her heart, with the crimson reaper's signature left in the very middle; a single rose petal.

"i'm going to look around and see if any of the shops around have cctv," he announces, not taking his eyes off the woman. that poor soul. "finish with the photos, bag anything that could be of use and send the body to the morgue. also, any ID on her?"

"she has a school access card under the cover of her phone," one of the other officers pipes up, pointing at a phone left on the ground, a clear case with a blue and white student card in it. "name's kaida tomita."

"great," hawks gets to his feet, taking another swig of his coffee. "find friends, family, whatever you can. i want to know where she was the night she died, where she lives, everything."

there's a soft chorus of "yes sir!" as he walks off, nodding at them with a charming grin on his face. he tucks his wings closer to his body, careful not to move or touch anything at the scene of the crime. ducking under the yellow and black police tape, the rain greets him once more, small puddles of rain water gathering along the sidewalk. he walks, taking a right out onto the main road, looking for competent shops that may have had some kind of security footage that captures the alleyway.

something catches his eye. something not quite fitting with the colour palette, the doom and gloom of this dingy alleyway with a dead corpse mutilated on the ground. a flash of pink in the peripherals of his vision, laying haphazardly on the ground next to a pair of trashcans. hawks bends down, squinting slightly before sighing. one white glove, a gash tearing through it from the opening down to the base of the index finger. he picks it up and stuffs it in his back pocket, before straightening and continuing his walkaround.

it proves fruitless; the crimson reaper sure knows how to choose their locations. nothing but dilapidated shophouses for several streets, no one frequenting the area enough to be asked if anyone had any idea how this poor university girl ended up in an alleyway, completely drained of blood and her chest ripped open for everyone and their god to see. he commends them, just a little for the amount of thought they must have put into their killings. enough that the entirety of the pro-hero industry has almost been run into the ground with how much havoc they're wreaking.

by the time he returns to the scene of the crime, most of it has been cleaned up, the body transported in a bag to be sent for an autopsy. "shall i compile all the notes and have it sent to your agency?" another officer asks him, a pretty, young girl, and he nods.

"that would be great. thanks, darlin'," he gives her a small smile. "thanks for all your hard work here."

she flushes, a slight rosey tint to her pale cheeks. "it's no problem, mr. hawks," she grins back. "thank you for your service to musutafu."

he just manages a weak smile. seeing case after case like this, it's tiring. it's a shame to tell how used to it he's gotten, but there's no point in denying that he's at that point where waking up to a new pager specifically for this case just filled him with annoyance rather than dread. but he keeps his head up and keeps working. because that's the promise he made as a hero. to serve, and to protect.

"baby, i'm home."

keigo drops his bags by the door, and just like every single day before this, is greeted by approaching footsteps and the smell of apple honey. "daddy!" he hears, and the way his shoulders relax and the apples of his cheeks tip upwards as he sees you.

you, the picture of perfection, your plush legs and arms wrapping around him. "oh my god, i missed you so much today." you breathe into his neck, smelling of sweat and hero work and a long day, and a twinge of his expensive cologne lying under all of that. "it's been so long."

he chuckles, spinning you around. "it's barely been a couple of hours," he chides you playfully. "missed your daddy that much, huh?"

"i miss you all the time," you whine. "you need to quit your job and stay home with me all day."

that earns a hearty laugh out of him, and a warm, wet kiss on your forehead. "tell that to the hero commission, princess. you know how much i'd love to stay in bed with you all day."

you step on his toes, wrapping your arms around him as he waddles the both of you into the kitchen. it's spick and span, always is, with a couple of dishes left of the drying rack and half a ham and cheese sandwich lying on a plate. "were you eating that, princess?"

you shake your head. "ate the other half an' got full," you beam up at him. "left it 'cause i knew you'd want it."

he chuckles. "you know me too well," keigo reaches for it, letting you bridge the gap between it and his outstretched hand, passing the sandwich along. "how was your day? you managed to catch up on your sleep after staying up all night last night?" he pinches your cheek, and you giggle, swatting him away.

"yes! yes, i did, i did," you nuzzle against his neck. "was so boring at home without you though. been thinking about you all day," your words turn breathy, pushing yourself into him more and more and more, as if you were trying to fuse the two of you together. your voice drops low, a murmur barely audible to him. "couldn't wait for you to get home."

keigo smiles. he knows exactly what you mean what you say that, but he wants to hear it from your mouth directly. "is that so, baby girl?" he shifts you, hoists you by your waist up onto the kitchen counter. "couldn't wait for me to get home?"

you whimper, shaking your head, nuh uh. "couldn't," you stutter, spreading your legs just a little bit. "needed— needed to touch."

"touch?" he asks, voice mocking innocence. "touch what, baby?"

you whine, a little embarrassed by his question. "you know what i mean." the tension between you is palpable, and you need him to step in the gap you've made between your legs. "daddy."

"i don't think i do," keigo munches on his half of the sandwich, feigning complete obliviousness to your advances. "think you need to tell me what you mean, darling."

you groan, head tipping back in annoyance as you find his hand in yours and pull him closer to you. "needed you to touch me," you murmur, shy. you guide him up your thigh, his thick fingers, calloused from hero work so rough and skittish against your plush, soft skin. a shudder runs up your spine. "right here."

his hand ends up right between your thighs, your hands, tiny compared to his, holding his wrist in place as his fingers brush up against the thin cotton of your shorts. "ah," he exclaims, a little exaggerated. "my little princess cunt needed some attention from daddy, is that it?"

you nod vehemently, relishing in every purposeful brush of his knuckles against the damp spot right in the middle of your shorts. "mmhm," you hum happily. "missed you so bad today, daddy."

"yeah?" he steps closer to you, pressing his chest to yours, his hand still toying with your cloth-covered cunt. "gorgeous baby. so desperate for cock, aren't you?"

you whine. his words, so crude, so blunt but so true. it makes you flush furiously, shyness creeping up on you slowly, heat pooling between your clenching thighs. "for daddy's cock," you agree, looking up at him with begging eyes. "wan'— wan' daddy's cock so bad."

keigo kisses your forehead. "have you been a good girl for me today?" he asks, slipping your shorts to the side, toying with the slick that coats your pussy, stroking up and down slowly.

it's so sensitive you can barely speak, just the ghostly touch of his fingers, the featherlight intention behind every stroke. you don't want to answer him because, well, you haven't been. you're growing impatient with how he's taking his time with you, stretching out your time with one another. but you've been aching, throbbing for him all fucking day, so you squeeze his wrist harder, forcing him to stay where you want him to.

"baby," he warns. "don't be bad."

you grind helplessly against his hand, relieving all the pent up need and stress as you rut your hips pathetically up and down his fingers. "fuck me," you demand. "i need you to fuck me."

keigo tuts. a soft, yet sharp sound against his tongue. "disobedient slut," he murmurs. watching tears spring into your eyes as you hump his hand, too much to handle but too little to cum. it's the perfect torture for you; to make you desperate for him, and yet never give in to you in his entirety. "fuckin' so eager for me, huh?"

you ignore his punchy words, whimpering against his fingers. your thighs are aching a little from the position, the constant move of your hips against his thick fingers. "fuck me," you demand again. "daddy, daddy," you paw at his trousers, trying to undo his belt.

but you don't get far before he smacks your hands, harshly to make you stop. "stop it," he scolds, a low growl in his voice. "you're being so disobedient right now." he snatches his hand from between your thighs, tuning out your whines of protest and yanks you by the back of your neck. "get up."

you have no choice, the pinch on the back of your neck forcing you to comply. you get up and he pushes you down in front of him, down on your knees putting you in the eyeline of the bulge in his pants. your eyes light up just looking at it, your hands uncontrollable as they come up to paw at his buckle, undoing it. such an easy little thing, keigo thinks. just need some cock in your mouth and you're all good for me.

he helps you get his buckle undone, your soft, trembling fingers pulling down the hem of his trousers. the smell of him is intoxicating, the reeking stench of sweat and work and burnt ashes as you bury your nose in the crevice between his boxers and his thigh. you look at him and he looks at you and your pupils are dilated, almost frenzied. “my little nympho girlfriend,” he chuckles. “you’d die for my cock, wouldn’t you?”

you don’t have to answer. the hitch in your breath does it for you. the way your lip quivers and you can’t seem to find the words to protest. keigo just snickers. just pets your hair, and cradles your cheek against the hard bulge in his boxers. “answer me.”

“‘d die for your cock,” you whisper, daring enough to let your tongue poke out of your mouth, licking up his cock through the fabric. “i’d die for it, wanna ride it.” you pout, looking up at him. a breath leaves him in a shudder.

“go on, then.” he murmurs, cupping the back of your head. “take it out.”

your fingertips, cautious and reluctant, dig into the waistband of his boxers, and your teeth baring to bite the fabric softly. it comes down slowly, stretching over his hips, the apex of his thighs until his cock springs free, and your mouth begins to water. every single time you pull out keigo’s cock it surprises you. and every single time it does, he chuckles at your reaction, your eyes widening, your mouth gaping uncontrollably. it boosts his ego just a little bit, the way you shake quite a little, your fingers trembling with anticipation.

don’t think i’ll ever get tired of this. 

you take your tongue and lick up a fat stripe from the base to the tip of his cock, worshipping his frenulum, sucking the head of his cock. you don’t think you’ll ever stop thinking it’s the most beautiful cock you’ve ever seen in your sorry life. keigo shudders under your touch, the hand cupping the back of your head instinctively pushing towards him, forcing your cheek pressed up against his cock. the course hairs on his pelvis, shimmering and blonde, tickle your skin and you stop to giggle for a second. 

“let me,” you’re insistent, squirming out of his hold and rearing back. “let me,” you repeat, dropping your jaw to fit the thick, mushroom tip of his cock into your mouth. it’s a lot, it always is; sure, keigo wasn’t the tallest guy, but he made up for it in how thick his cock was. in stature, the broadness of his shoulders, the thickness of his waist. even now, it’s a chore to work his cock into your warm, waiting mouth, but he had to control himself, not buck his hips forward and push the seam of your lips apart. you work to get the cock fully in your mouth, suckling and slurping on with, making obscene sounds. they’re music to his ears, he smiles, the sounds of you choking and gagging on his cock as he watches you swallow it down to the hilt. 

“that’s it, good girl. good girl, taking all of daddy’s cock like that. fuck,” he seethes. “daddy’s gonna use your mouth now, okay? just keep your jaw— yeah, just like that. yeah, good fuckin’ girl.” his fingers twist into your hair, his other hand coming down to cup your cheek as he pistons in and out of your mouth. his breathing’s laboured, fucking his pretty girlfriend’s mouth like a pussy. 

you choke back a moan every time the tip of his cock rams into the back of your throat. you’re quite used to this, to be honest; being used as a tool for keigo’s pleasure, but it made you even wetter hearing the whimpers and whines drool out of his mouth like liquid gold, knowing that you’re the reason he’s feeling so good right now. so you relax your jaw and let him use you the way he needs. because you can’t deny the fact that the space between your thighs is growing hot, slick with your own arousal as your lips stretch open with every thrust.

and then keigo’s pulling out of your mouth, tapping your cheek with his cock drenched in your spit. you whine, “you didn’t cum.”

“don’t wanna cum in your mouth today,” he murmurs. “c'mon. up."

he should get you a collar and a leash, he thinks. just so he can yank you along where he wants you, and god knows you'd follow him on all fours. you're pliable today, and thank god for that because he needs to sink his fat cock inside of you before he blows his load on the carpet. keigo tugs you along to the bedroom and shoves you down onto your stomach on the bed, knees hitching up. digs a hand under your hips and raises your ass.

"show me that pretty pussy," he whispers, cheek pressed against the fat of your ass. he can see the outline of your puffy pussy through the thin jersey cotton of your pajama shorts, fat and drooling. his fingers dig into your hips, warm tips slipping under the waistband. "no panties?" he asks, and even with your head in the pillows, back arched for him, you can hear the smug look on his face.

"no panties," you answer, a deep sigh into the pillows. you can't see what he's doing, but you pray to god he'll let you off and just fuck you till you're a sobbing, drooling mess. so it comes unexpected to you, but not unwelcome, when his hand rears back and lands on your ass with a loud smack. you squeal loudly, flinching at the contact but he stops you, wrapping a strong arm around your hips.

"stop running," he says, the low timbre of his voice, nearing a growl, making you stop in your tracks. even you, the biggest brat keigo's ever seen, wouldn't dare disobey him like this. "wanna act like a desperate whore, you get treated like one, yeah?"

the sheets become acquainted with your drool as he continues with you, landing a succession of spanks; one for every time you "disobeyed" him, asked for too much, stepped out of line. this is what he knows you love, being put in your place, him having his way with you. at the back of his mind he'd rather kiss you sweetly, have you on your back facing him, fucking you slow as he watches your eyes roll back with every kiss his cock delivers to your cervix, but this; this is what you need. a rough, harsh fuck, battering your ass and your pussy till you're raw and red and begging him to stop. until you stop being a brat, and you listen to what he has to say.

"fuck me," you cry out, muffled into the pillow. he pauses, smoothing a big palm along the redness of your asscheek. "daddy— please, please."

he leans down, draping himself over your back. "what was that?"

"daddy," you beg, his title so sweet on your tongue. like honey, dripping gold. "please fuck me."

keigo hums. "finally decided you're gonna be good for me, then?" he sits back on his haunches, hands gripping your hips. "finally mellowed down into the good girl i know?" you wish you could shut him up, but with his big, rough hand pinning your neck down there's no way for you to speak, no way for you to glower at him. so you lie there and you take it, take every burning fingerprint he scalds into your skin, the unpleasant sting of the cold air against your abused, reddened skin. he peels down your shorts, watching the way your slicked up pussy drools for him now, strings of arousal latching on to the soaked fabric as he peels it away.

your pussy clenches around nothing, exposed to the cold air. a small whine rips through your throat; wriggling your thighs slightly. "c'mon," you whimper. but keigo stays put. watches the mesmerising slick of your pussy, puffy folds all on display for him to watch. "it's embarrassing!" you protest, trying to get him to do something, anything. but if keigo's good at one thing, it's putting you in your place.

smack. you recoil as another excruciating blow lands on the fat of your ass, right where your thighs meet your cheeks. "behave. you get what i give you, when i give it to you. got it?"

you whimper quietly. keigo doesn't like that. doesn't like when you hide your answers from him. so he grabs you, stuffs two fingers in your mouth and pulls, forcing your head up painfully. "got it?"

"yeth!" you cry, muffled around his fingers. wincing, he lets you down, a rare gentleness in his rough hands. he smoothes a hand down your back, shushing your soft sniffles.

"prettiest fuckin' pussy," he whispers, and you can feel the hot breath against your skin. "gonna fuck you now, okay?"

a thrill skittles down your spine when you hear those words, your back arching, ass humping back. "yes, yes please," you breathe, twisting your neck so you can look back at him, kneeling over you. his boxers are shucked down to his knees, positioning himself at your cunt, and you can feel it; the slow, agonising rub of the tip of his cock against the slit of your pussy, threatening to fuck it open, stretch you out. "daddy— oh, fuck me!"

there's a line between demanding and begging, and you toe it every single day. you better thank you gods that keigo's ears deep in love with you that he overlooks it, that he chuckles to himself as the fat mushroom tip of his cock catches against the slit and pushes in. the both of you hiss, the contact of his cock in your gummy walls so familiar and yet you're completely thrown off by the sheer girth of him stretching your ill-prepared hole. no matter how many times you and keigo fuck, how many times he has you cumming on his cock beforehand, the first breach of his cock in your pussy will always sting. you clutch the bedsheets in your fist, silk bunching up and shielding your palms from the onslaught of your sharp fingernails.

he heaves a breath, leaving his lips with a shudder as his hands grip your flesh. tightening around the fat of your hips, he sinks himself deep into your eager, drooling pussy. "princess," he drapes his body over yours, broad shoulders and thick waist and so big over you. "god, princess, let me in."

it's so much, too much for your tight pussy to handle. "'m trying," you mumble. "s-slow down."

keigo chuckles, mouthing at your shoulder. "not so big and bad anymore, huh? where's my feisty little girl gone?"

it always happens. you just need a little bit of cock in your pussy and you're reduced to a blabbering, slobbering mess on the sheets, your hips mindlessly pushing back onto keigo's cock as you beg him to slow down. he could still himself and just kneel behind you and you'd find a way to fuck yourself to orgasm without him moving an inch. you may be a brat, may disobey him for a second to paw at his cock, but keigo knows all you need is a cock inside you and you're right as rain for him.

today is no different, he thinks as you fuck yourself back on his cock, watching your pussy stretch around him and swallow him down to the hilt. it's mesmerising, borderline insane the way you suck him in, the way you fuck him until you're satisfied and don't stop for a second until you're done. even with your head buried in the pillows you have control, squeezing the length of his dick until he's breathless.

"s-stop that," he stutters, his hand sliding up your back, pinning your neck to the pillows. "you're squeezin' me too tight, birdy."

and you can't answer, hands flailing, fingers flexing with the weight of him mounting you. you can feel him so, so deep inside you, it's like he's in your throat, pushing past your thoughts and residing in the forefront of your mind. "c-can't... 'elp it," you manage, a half hearted sorry dripping from your lips like the drool leaking out the side of your mouth. it's messy, overwhelming, but god if it's the only thing you live for.

keigo ruts into you, one leg planted on the bed by the side of your torso, holding your hips and bouncing you back onto his cock. "is that good?" he grunts, his sweat-slick hair falling into his eyes. "you like that, princess?"

"love it," you slur, dizzy from how deep his cock is pressing inside you. every single thrust feels like it's breaking the wall of your cervix, the slight sting of pain whenever he rams his cock as far as it'll take him. "h-haah," your fists tangle in the sheets before letting go, your right hand drifting down between your body and the sheets to find your clit, the sensitive bud dripping with slick, puffy and neglected. the first fingers make contact with it and your knees almost give out, the sensitivity of your clit sending shocks through your torso, down to your toes and up to your shoulders, a familiar feeling traversing through your veins.

"yeah?" keigo teases, his tongue darting out of his mouth, licking from your shoulder blade to the nape of your neck. "gotta rub your little clit? can't let daddy do all the work now, can you?"

and you whine in response, a pathetic inability to say anything. you can feel him in your throat and you've gone almost brainless with the thickness of him stretching your pretty pussy out. "n-need to," you whisper, shifting your head so you can glance back at him, and when you do, you almost choke.

keigo's the picture of debauchery. his face is tinted pink, ears tipped red and you're sure that if you cradled your palm against his cheek his blood would run so, so warm. he's looking at you with a frenzied look in his eyes, golden melting in his eyes, looking at you wth an intensity that threatens to frighten you. he's looking at you like land to conquer, wings ruffled and spread slightly. you know he loses control of them in times like these, and that they're one of the most sensitive areas of his body, beautiful crimson shielding the two of you like a dome; like he's covering the both of you from the world, and it's just the two of you right now. it is. to you, it is.

your jaw slackens as you rub your clit to the look on his face, the curves of his cheekbones, the angular structure of his jaw, his pink cheeks, the way he's grunting as he sheathes himself inside you again, and again, and again. "k-keigo," you whisper, the circles you draw on your clit getting messier and sloppier as the tightness in your core begins to build. it's excruciating. "daddy."

"i got you, princess," he groans. "you gonna cum?"

you nod, wordlessly. you don't think you could force yourself to say more than that, your heart caught in your throat and his dick in your tummy. you're so distracted that it takes you a couple of seconds to realise that he's snaked his own hand between your thighs, knocking your smaller one out of the way.

"need to feel you cum," you hear him say, strained, like he's speaking with his jaw locked and gnashing teeth. seeing how tense he looks, he probably is. keigo's fingertips are so calloused, so rough from work that it makes you squeal with how ungraceful he's being with your poor, bullied clit. "you're close, aren't you? can feel you— fuck, you're fucking squeezin' me."

"oh my god, oh my god," you cry, palming your stomach as if it'll help alleviate the overwhelming sensation of both your pussy and clit being bullied beyond recognition. "daddy, oh fuck, daddy!"

"i know," he shushes your cries, rubbing his free hand soothingly down your back, and then planting it by the side of your head. "gotta— don't cry, baby, 's just me." keigo sinks a little deeper, rubs your clit a little faster. "you're gonna make a mess on my cock, aren't you?"

you cry out at the crudeness of his words, trying valiantly to shake your head no. but you can't lie; you could feel the pressure in your navel. one small push, one more flick of his fingers against your clit and you're done for.

"come on, princess," he grunts. "need you to cum for daddy, got it? wanna fuckin' see you squirt all over me, come on," and with his renowned intent, keigo's thrusts became impossibly faster, driving impossibly deeper. one clumsy brush of his knuckles against your clit and you're gone, gone, gone, flung headfirst into a crashing orgasm. your eyes roll back and you see white, and you don't realise you're gushing liquid until you hear keigo curse, the lewd squelch of his cock plunging into your leaking pussy filling the room.

"fuck," he spits. "holy fuck, yeah. that's it. that's my fuckin' girl."

"fuck me," you barely manage. "f-fuck me through it."

and he does, never stopping the movement of his hips against yours, his fingers still circling mercilessly against your sloppy clit. you can barely breathe, the force of your orgasm still sending shakes down your legs. they're uncontrollable, too heavy and you have to drop them, your pelvis flat on the sheets. "'m sorry," you babble, "c-can't hold mys-self..."

keigo hushes you. "don't worry princess," he whispers in your ear. "don't need you to work anymore, yeah? just lie there and take daddy's cock now, okay?" he presses kisses down your spine, sweet and sugary compared to his words. "daddy's gonna use you now."

and that he does. keigo has a habit of getting carried away when he's on top, when he has power over you. he pins your hips into the sheets, making sure they don't move as he rears back until only the tip of his cock remains in you, before pushing forward and slamming his fat cock into you, over and over and over. your cum and squirt making for extra lube for him to violate your pussy over and over.

you're powerless to stop him, limp and crosseyed as he uses you to chase his own orgasm. just little whines and whimpers that escape your lips when he pushes particularly deep; but other than that, right now, you're keigo's warm, wet fucktoy with the perfect pussy to cum in.

"'m not gonna last very long," he whines. "where do you want it, princess? where do you want daddy's cum?"

"i'side," you whisper. "ins-side!"

"yeah?" his mouth quirks up, canines flashing. he drapes himself over you again, mouthing at your ear. "want me to cum inside?"

you nod, small uh huh, uh huhs spilling out of your useless mouth.

"want me to knock you up? give you my kids? when was the last time you took your pill, baby?"

"n-not," you barely manage. "not on t-the pill anymore."

"that's what i like to fuckin' hear," he chuckles, brows furrowing just slightly, feeling the tangle in his navel now too. "gonna make you all fat and round with my kids. yeah?" he presses a kiss to your shoulder blade. "maybe if i knock you up you'll finally listen to me."

you squeal as he drives himself into your one more time, tip of his dick nudging against the sweet spot inside you, threatening to push past the tight ring of your cervix. just presses his chest against your back and pushes, grinds the head against your walls. "daddy, too much!" you cry out, arms scrambling for purchase. his thrusts are brutal; you can practically feel the bruises he's pressing into your skin, pretty blue-black marks you know will show up tomorrow morning. 

"shut up." he hisses, taking both your wrists in one of his own, pinning them above your head. "shut the fuck up and take it." keigo shudders, trying his hardest to hold on just a little more, just one more thrust before he's falling apart, a groan clawing through his throat and bubbling out of his mouth as he cums and cums and cums. it's overwhelming, the feeling of him filling you to the brim and more with cum. white hot and thick, dripping out the sides of his cock as he plugs you full.

you hear him sigh, arm collapsing and giving way until he's flopped on top of you, cock softening inside you. you welcome the warm weight of your boyfriend on top of you, hoisting one of his arms in your hands to tuck between you and the sheets, resting your cheek against the toned muscle of his bicep.

"long day?" you ask, finally. the smell of the both of you, your floral sweetness mixing with the sweaty hue of his tired body, drifting through the air. he's so tired, barely moving, but you don't mind the crushing. it was comforting, in its own way.

"the longest," he sighs, nuzzling his face into your neck before he snaps up suddenly. "oh. right," he reaches over to the side of the bed where he'd shucked off his jeans (you don't even remember him doing that, probably in your haze of lust.)

"mm?" you hum, smiling softly at him. he pulls out a white glove, one torn from the base to the index finger, and flicks you in the head with it.

"gotta stop leaving your traces all over the place, baby," he chides you gently. "never know what would've happened if someone found it before i did.”

keigo and you met years ago- at a coffeeshop near your university where you studied forensic psychology and he studied english. you'd spilt your matcha latte all over his shirt and apologised profusely, and he'd laughed it off.

"no worries, sweetheart," he took your chin in his fingers, a soft smile playing on his lips. "hey— enough apologisin' yeah?" 

and after that, you began bumping into him more and more. it would have been worrying if you weren't so enamoured with his gaze, midas gold and luxurious, yet still held an air of comfort in them. like you could crawl into him and lay yourself to rest in him. you didn't realise the bright crimson feather that stuck itself to the bottom of your tote bag, following you wherever you went. by the first week, he knew your whole schedule. he knew which classes you were in, which dormitory you stayed in, the sound of your roommate's voice.

it wasn't his fault you were so pretty, so delicate, so vulnerable. it wasn't his fault he thought you needed extra protection. you were just so lovely, anyone would be lucky to even be looked at by you. what if you got into trouble? what if you needed help? it was just for safety, he convinced himself.

keigo thought you were stupid. thought you didn't know about the fact that he was tracking you. he convinced himself that, to him, you were another air headed bimbo to fuck and then move on to the next one. of course, he'd never gone to these lengths for any other girl before, but somehow, you were different.

and to you, he was different. your roommate warned you of those golden eyes, that warm smile that seemed a little too friendly. "he's fine," you insisted, looking at yourself in the mirror for the fifth time that night, pulling your skirt down, pulling your dress up as you waited for keigo to text you, to pick you up for your first date. "i'll text you if anything goes wrong, i promise."

and of course, the date went well. he took you to dinner and then to a lovely little park, and then back to his apartment to fuck your brains out. tugging your wrist in his, you remember the way you tripped over each other to get to his bedroom, pulling clothes every which way. it was almost embarrassing how fast the word daddy slipped out of your mouth that night. but how couldn't you, with the way he was prying your legs open, calling you his good baby? with the way he was feeding you his cock, slapping the fat tip of it against your slick folds? it was natural, almost sickeningly so.

you liked him. god, you liked him. an outrageous amount. like you couldn't stand to be without him for more than a day. and strangely enough, he found your neediness endearing. like he wanted to be the centre of your attention all of the time. keigo was so unfamiliar with the concept of actually liking someone that he couldn't tell how he felt about you until that night.

see, the thing with keigo was that even though he was wrapped around your pinky finger, he found it so hard to move on from his... prideful ambitions. and so every time you rounded a corner to see some skank's arm draped around his torso, or some bitch's hand stroking his wings, you broiled in a mixing pot of anger and jealousy. no matter how many times he reassured you, no, sweetheart, i'm not cheating on you and baby, you're the prettiest girl i've ever seen. it wasn't enough for you. not until you had them in front of you, motionless, pale, and drained of blood.

keigo had wondered where you went. you'd left your tote bag in your dorm room so he couldn't track you down. usually he’d leave it, roll his eyes and wait for you to reply but when you let his calls run to voicemail and you left him on read too many times, he decided to go out. tuck some crimson red feathers in the corners of buildings, alleyways just in case you came by. sent other feathers drifting around just in case you decided to stay in one place. and finally, after what felt like hours, he stumbled upon a small alleyway with a figure too closely resembling yours crouching down by the ground.

he listened to the soft choking sounds, the pleas of please, stop, it hurts. stood there and did nothing but watched. not because he was scared, no. but because he was curious. curious who lay in front of you, and why. he let your victim thrash about, writhing in pain before eventually stopping, laying limp in front of you, and when her head hit the ground with a satisfyingly hollow thump, he recognises her as the girl he talked to just earlier this morning.

keigo watches you, ominous fascination coursing through his veins, golden gaze pathetic. he was a hero, groomed and perfected by the safety commission, and he just let a girl die; for what? because he was so enamoured with the girl who killed her? because he was so infatuated with the way you breathed now, your shoulders rolling back like this is your first hit of a joint, relaxing and softening from weeks-long tension?

"impressive," is the only thing he says, and when you whip around, there's some sort of kindling ferocity in your eyes. he holds his hands up in surrender, a sign of innocence. "no, truly."

you have a quirk; when it manifested, your mother had you wear gloves, made you stay away from other kids. because through the sweat glands of your palms, you could drain any living being of blood within minutes. it was scary, naturally, for your mother to find that out. it explained why you always felt faint; that without draining somebody else's blood, you never really had enough on your own. blood didn't clot fast enough to stop you from losing blood rapidly. blood was precious, blood was essential to you. other people's blood.

the pints of blood the hospital supplied you was never enough. the blood donations, transfusions, nothing worked the same way as when you laid a hand, skin to skin on somebody's arm and drained them. that feeling of euphoria, of strength rejuvenating in your bones. it felt like breathing for the first time, a thirst quenched, a hunger quelled.

over the years you'd perfected it; sped it up so you could drained a whole average sized body in seconds, or learn how to tell when a certain amount has been drained. but though you learned to control it, to decide when your glands worked as needles, when your blood becomes too thin, or runs too low it's harder for you to control. harder for you to discern when you should or shouldn't utilise it. your god-given gift.

"like a vampire," keigo joked when you told him this.

"fuck off," you seethed, slapping his bicep. "what are you gonna do now? sell me out to your dumb pro hero agency?"

"it's the hero commission, sweetheart," he started. "and of course not. why would i do that?"

you shrugged. "thought you wanted to be the next big shot pro. can't do that if you're an accessory to a murder."

so you aren't as dumb as you seem. keigo smiles. as much as he loved the way you went dumb on his cock, or dependent hanging off his sleeve begging him to ask the counter for some ketchup, he liked you like this; scheming, plotting, always one step ahead. you were always one step ahead.

this wasn't the first time you'd done this. of course not, he thinks, it can't be. because as you slip a pair of pristine white gloves back over your right hand with a practiced precision, fishing out a rag and wiping down the surface of the skin, it was obvious this was like routine. "diluted bleach," you murmured, explaining the acrid smell. "gets rid of any fingerprints or dna."

he watched you clean any evidence of yourself from the corpse, before getting back up on your feet. "you're not gonna bury it?"

you shrugged. "they're gonna find it either way." you turned to him, a small smile on your lips. he would have thought it adorable if you didn't just drained a girl completely of her blood right before him. "and plus, i forgot my shovel."

keigo couldn't help but chuckle. but pull you into his chest and kiss you, slow and deep. "what a girl," he whispered in your ear. "that's my fuckin' girl."

fucked up couldn't even begin to describe your relationship with keigo after that.

and ears deep in love was an understatement to how keigo felt about you.

he ruined every crime scene, botched every manila file. protected you fiercely in every way he could in his position in the hero commission. never once did he question what he was doing; to him it was you first, everything else came after.

did he get reprimanded for his slowness on the cases? on the mysterious disappearances of forensic evidence? on the fact that no one was any closer to solving the case of the crimson reaper? of course. but he didn't care, because as long as he came home to his sweet girlfriend, your arms wrapping around his neck and peppering his face with kisses like a dutiful wife, he'd abuse any power to keep you safe.

and that included today. "ms president," hawks greets when he walks into the room, the clinical fluorescents washing out any life from the room. it feels sterile; the blank stares, the gloomy, overcast weather that painted the backdrop of the meeting through the large glass windows.

"mr. takami," she smiles, tightlipped. hawks could count the wrinkles that stained her forehead, etched like valleys, fruition of the canyons of burden she shouldered. "so kind of you to join us."

"of course, ms president." his hands, shoved deep into his pants pockets flexed, a small wring of anxiety that plagues him whenever he's called to these meetings. that they'd finally saw through him, and are coming for you right as they speak. "it's always a pleasure to be here."

he was taught since he was a little kid, since he was taken in by the commission; the job he was made for. the purpose he was born to fulfil. to make musutafu a better place, to protect civilians. and he did! he did a damn good job. but right now, more than anything else he'd been taught, there came you, who turned his nights into days and touched fleeting heart and turned it to gold.

"the other ranked heroes should be here soon," she sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. "how's the crimson reaper case? any good news?"

hawks' hands slip out of his pockets, straightening them by his sides and bowing slightly. "i'm sorry, ms. president. i can't say anything's any better than it's been since the last meeting."

her breath hitches, and with a grim expression, turns away from him. "no matter," she starts. "i know we are all working as hard as we can. we will get this killer," there's a certain acid in her tone, corroding and pooling on her tongue. hawks can hear the frown, the anger and the frustration in her tone. "and we will keep musutafu safe."

endeavour is the first one in the room after that, his big, hulking figure looming by the door way. "madam president," he greets, and then turns to hawks. "brat."

hawks scoffs. "rude."

the meeting runs as all the previous did; briefing everybody on the current situation, any updates, any findings, anything new that had come up. hawks explains the newest death; the background, who she was, the places she'd been before. "there's no connection between this victim and the rest," he continues. "which further cements that the reaper doesn't have a pattern. i wouldn't go as far as to say these victims are picked randomly, but that is how it appears."

"then everyone's in danger of being killed," edgeshot pipes up. "there's no way we can predict who'll be next."

there's a grim hum of agreement.

"an equal risk," hawks agrees. "there's no telling who s— they'll go for next."

"and you're sure," ryukyu raises her voice. "that we're nowhere closer to finding anything about them? after, what, 24 deaths? not a single piece of evidence?"

"really makes you wonder how much work you're putting into this," rock lock comments, the snideness in his voice not going unnoticed. "hawks agency not putting in enough hours?"

"why don't you fuckin' try it, wannabe?" mirko glowers at rock lock. “oh, that’s right. you don’t even have your own agency. why don’t you try becoming a ranked hero before you give your opinion?” 

“ms. usagiyama,” the president clips. “mr. takagi. i would rather there be no internal conflict within the pro heroes when there’s a common enemy that deserves our utmost attention.”

neither of them say a word after that. blunt tipped tones and thick tension; it was natural for the frustration to get to them, have them saying things they’d usually be able to contain. hawks smiles weakly, mumbles a small, it’s alright, before continuing. “we do have several leads,” he starts again. “we are investigating especially those with blood-related quirks, since the signature style of the reaper is the victim drained of blood. we have yet to find a reason for this, why the blood is being used.” 

“we had the tests run at all hospitals and donation drives in musutafu,” best jeanist adds. “testing the blood sample from the body to see if any of the blood had been donated. nothing came up. whatever it is, the killer’s using it for themselves.” 

“well maybe we should check neighbouring cities,” kamui woods suggests. “the reaper only comes by once a week at most. they could be from neighbouring towns.”

“you think they’d lug five litres of blood to another town?”

“five litres is nothing. that’s a 5 kilo dumbbell.”

internally, hawks chuckles. he knows the drained blood has led them on a wild goose chase; any blood drained was already in your bloodstream, since the glands drained the blood from their body directly into yours. you’d only started puncturing holes with needles to throw them off; make them think that it was external instruments that aided in the blood collection. in fact, that was his idea, brought up one night at dinner when you were tossing ideas on how to make it more fun for you.

that’s what it was. fun. other than the element of needing blood— you didn’t need nearly as much as you were getting. one body could last you maybe a month or two if you stretched it right— you did this for fun. it's a thrill at this point, doing them closer and closer to the city centre, in places where people could peer into an alleyway and see you crouched by a motionless body. there's a glint in your eye, keigo notices, when you see somebody you want. an interesting quirk, a streak of your favourite colour in their hair; once you set your eyes on someone, you'll never take them off.

they were right, in that one thing about you. it was random. unpredictable. you never let them know what you're about to do next, and you liked it that way.

"we do," endeavour starts, clearing his throat. "have some eyewitness reports from around the area. the killing— this one, most recent one— happened around 3 to 5 in the morning according to forensics, and a, uh, miss miyazaki toi reported seeing a figure in green along the street, leaving the opposite direction from the alleyway at about 4:30."

madam president perks up. "any other indicators? hair colour? height?"

"she, uh, said she was too far away to make out anything of essence."

"gait? posture? anything?"

endeavour shakes his head. "nothing, madam president. i can get in touch with the eyewitness again, but it's not likely she'll have anything new to share."

hawks clears his own throat, thumping his chest once. whoever that miyazuki or whatever saw, that wasn't you. and he knows this because at 4:30 am you were fucked out, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as he fucked you into his mattress. whimpering, drooling, clawing at his skin for him to slow down, his hips slapping against yours as he emptied his balls into your waiting pussy.

and also, you don't wear green. not your colour.

but he knows madam president, knows that she'll exhaust every avenue, every lead until it turns up dead at her doorstep. this eyewitness testimony just bought you a couple more weeks as they chase down whatever poor soul was walking along a street at 4 in the morning.

as the meeting concludes, several pro heroes pat hawks on the back, thanking him for working overtime for this case, taking such a genuinely draining case under his wing. he just smiles, murmuring in acknowledgement. he can see the tight rings of sleeplessness wound under their eye lines, and for a moment, he feels a speck of pity for them. maybe he does feel sympathetic, that a savage killer ravages the streets of his town. but he can't bring himself to condemn your actions. can't find it in himself to look at you with anything but utmost adoration, like a kitten who had brought a chewed up bird to him in its mouth, big doe eyes asking, are you proud of me?

keigo is. always has been proud of you. you made a name for yourself, never left a trace of yourself in your wake. you are such a clever girl, beautiful and kind, and you bring sunshine to your household with the aroma of the cookies you bake every saturday. keigo loves you. endlessly, relentlessly. if he had to jeopardise his career and watch the city of musutafu tremble in the wake of your actions just to see that smile on your face every time he came home, it was done. in a heartbeat, no questions asked.

he flies home that night. picks up a couple of custard tarts for you on the way, from your favourite bakery, and a bubble tea. maybe you'd eat dinner together and he'd sit you on his lap while you watched another shitty romcom that he would deny he loved. maybe he'd wash the dishes while you focused on your assignment, chewing on the back of your apple pencil from a habit you never really grew out of. either way, he's excited to come home, to see you, feel you in his arms again.

the sliding door is ajar when he lands in the balcony, tucking his wings tight behind him as he pulls it a little more open, slipping inside. he's hit with the aroma of curry wafting through the threshold before he spots you, his love and light, his achilles heel standing by the stove in your favourite pink and white apron, stirring a pot. he lights up; it's embarrassing how fast he drops his bags and shuffles over to the kitchen, quietly wrapping his arms around your front as he leans against your back.

"keigo," you murmur softly. "welcome home, baby."

keigo hums. "i missed you."

you giggle softly. "you always say that."

"because it's always true." he raises his head slightly, tucking it into the crook where your neck meets your shoulder and pressing a soft, chaste kiss to your skin. you have a litany of marks, varying in shades, deep blue or a fading red scattered along the plump skin. "i miss you every second i'm not with you."

you twist the knob of the stove off, giving the curry one last customary stir before pushing off the edge of the countertop, twisting around to face your boyfriend. you heave his heavy arms around your torso, under your armpits and slump back into him. "you're such a sap," you whisper, burying your face into his shoulder, tucking your head under his chin. he rubs his nose along your temple, sweet nothings murmured into the space between you.

"did you miss me too, baby?"

there's a flicker of embarrassment that flashes hot in your bloodstream, and you can't seem to brush it off. "yes, daddy," you whisper back, letting out a shaky breath. "missed you, so, so much."

he smiles, brings one hand up to tip your chin upwards before catching your lips in a kiss. a gentle, breathless one, one that has you swaying on your tip toes, clutching on to the collar of his work jacket. "that's my sweet girl," he murmurs. "wanna make you my wife one day."

and you giggle, rolling your eyes. "you're all talk," you chastise him, turning away again to begin plating your dinner. the lid of the rice cooker pops open and you scoop heaps for him, and just as much for you. "how much curry do you want, honey?"

"lots," he hums, wrapping his arms around your waist again, tucking his chin on your shoulder. "chicken?"

"yup," you pat his cheek. "your favourite."

keigo watches as you scoop ladlefuls of curry onto his plate, stewed chicken and vegetables in a rich traditional curry atop a bed of rice. god, his mouth is watering just watching you plate it. he has got to make you his wife.

as he sits next to you at the kitchen island, bowls of curry half eaten he looks over at you, chewing thoughtfully, eyes glimmering, and wonders what good he'd done in his last life to deserve someone like you. as you settle in his lap for your nightly movie, dead poets society playing on the tv, he strokes your hair, runs his fingers down your back. he wants to savour every hour, minute, second he's got with you. fall into a dimension where neither of you are needed anywhere but in each other's arms.

time is a leaking faucet, dripping and draining into the rippling river between the two of you, the rhythmic, drip, drip, drip reminds him that this time is finite, that there is nothing in the world that lasts forever and ever. and as hard as he might try, there will come a day that he will have to part from you.

but that day is not today, he reminds himself as you lean your tired head on his plush chest. you squeak softly when his grip around your waist tightens, and he pulls you closer to him. "i missed you," he whines, high and pitchy and so unlike the outer facade he had put on for his public image. "baby, oh baby, i fuckin' missed you so bad."

you giggle. "you said that already," you loop your arms around his neck. "say something different."

"like what?" he looks at you quizzically. "like, oh, i dreamed about fucking you all day."

"crude!" you slap his bicep. "another one."

he hums, in thought. "i couldn’t stop thinking about you."

"that's so cliche." you laugh. "come on, number two hero, most eligible bachelor in japan. hit me with your best shot."

"marry me." it's out of his mouth before he can stop it, before he can think. what usually was meant to be kept under lock and key, spoken into existence. what plagued his every day, clouded up his mind, finally out there for more than his subconscious to hear.

and the way your face changes, the subtle relaxation of your cheeks and your mouth, he watches all of it with bated breath, with a small glint of hesitation, of regret. he'd never regretted anything he did with you, but there was something to be said about the twist in his heart as he waited for you reply. "are you seriously asking me like this?" you whisper, eyes wide, mouth hanging a little.

"and if i am?" he asks, and before he has a chance to regret it, you kiss him, quick and fierce and so, so desperate, like you can't stand to be disconnected from him physically for even a second more. he breathes you in, shifting so he's sitting up a little more attentively, holding you down against him. you whimper into the kiss, his bruising grip on your arms returned by the way you dig your fingernails into his skin. like you're marking one another, leaving indents as evidence of your influence over each other's bodies.

your hand finds home on his collarbones, fingers splayed out over the warm flesh. you find his pulse point, pressing your thumb against it. "say it again," you beg, some kind of sick, twisted, desperate need to hear those words drip from keigo's mouth again. "again." you demand, pressing harder.

"marry me." it comes out strained, the pressure of your hands tightening around his neck cutting off blood momentarily. it makes him dizzy, but the figure of you in front of him is still crystal clear. "baby, marry me."

the world burns around the two of you. moves on, runs along, but the two of you are stuck here in this moment, visiting it and revisiting it. you hold him and he holds you, the only person he's ever genuinely cared about, the only person he's loved.

weeks pass, and the crimson reaper is all but gone.

this is the longest time in the last year since that name made the news with the finding of a new body. to be exact, it's been 34 days since the last crimson reaper killing. hawks can see that musutafu has breathed a sigh of relief, and the hero commission has stopped being so anal about daily reporting. patrolling has been a lot less stressful. pro heroes are getting a semblance of control back.

you're fine. hawks knows you are; you're just as chipper, bouncy, and lovely as you've always been. he wondered for a little bit if there was something different in that tomita girl's blood; so much so that you didn't need your regular weekly fix, or even the mandatory monthly one. but you laughed it off, telling him don't worry, baby, and that he'll see soon enough.

you're a smart girl. he trusted you to make good decisions.

after that night, his sudden question and your hand on his throat demanding him to repeat it, you found yourselves in the throes of progression. towards what, from what, you couldn't really tell. all you knew is that there was a softness within keigo that, even with how loving he'd been since you met, you'd never really seen till now. all you knew is that, to him, wife sounded so much better than girlfriend.

he hasn't proposed properly, he reminds you, and that until he can put a ring on your finger, that night was but a promise to greater things to come. but that didn't stop him from calling you his wife every so often, under his breath, over the phone. it was casual, yet subtly intimate. you couldn't help but flush some nights after that when he kissed you everywhere, and the word wife would drip from his mouth if he wasn't careful.

you thought it adorable. you loved— love— it. you tried the word husband on your tongue, once, twice. my husband. i'll have to ask my husband. i'm seeing my husband. it... fit. weirdly. of all the things in your life you would never have thought that you'd come anywhere near calling anyone your husband. but for keigo, it fit.

keigo's asleep when you come home.

it's ticking close to 3 now. all the lights in the apartment are off, save for a lamp in the hallway. keigo always leaves that one specific lamp on for you to come home to, and you always switch it off on your way to your bedroom. and that's what you do, adrenaline still rushing through your veins. you aren’t tired; you never are after a night like this. sometimes you wonder if keigo’s initial assessment of your quirk was right. vampire made so much sense with how much more energetic and powerful you felt after a kill. 

synergy courses through your veins, up your arteries and through your beating heart. the adrenaline, the electricity, the excitement. 

you pad through the living room and the kitchen, stopping to pour yourself a glass of cold water before shuffling softly back to the bedroom. keigo’s left it slightly ajar for you, and you can see, with the small sliver of dim orange glow, the man of your dreams splayed out on your bed, the covers pulled up and rumpled around his torso. keigo sleeps shirtless, always has, and from where you stand you can see a little bit of his golden skin, softened muscle under the covers. 

he’s beautiful, peace and comfort painted across his face, the steady rise and fall of his chest signalling his deep sleep. you pad over softly, placing your water cup by your bedside and leaning over your boyfriend to plant a small kiss on his cheek before walking to the bathroom. 

the water is warm against your back, rivulets of slightly pink-tinted water running down your body. sweat gives way and you start to feel clean, the smell of lavender and mint steaming in the room, fogging up your mirrors. you lean your head back against the cold tile, letting your eyelids flutter shut. it’s been a long day. college in the morning, work in the afternoon, homicide in the evening. really tuckers a bitch out. 

but yet you can’t stop the trail of your fingers, the light, ghostly touch along the front of your torso. it’s been a long day, but you can’t stop yourself from thinking about keigo this morning, waking you up with his tongue on your clit, hands gripping the flesh of your hips so tight. you can’t stop the tingling of your hands, filled with the blood of the last victim you drank. all your energy, circulating to the heat in your core. you stifle a soft moan now, letting your soft fingertips inch down lower, and lower. 

you like that, don’t you? you could hear keigo’s voice in the empty chamber of your mind, a smug smile on his lips peering up at you from between your legs, nosing along the sensitive top of your cunt. like it when daddy wakes you up like this.

you did. you do. you can’t stop thinking of it now, not as your fingers make contact with the swollen nub of your clit. you give it one tentative press and gasp, back arching into your own grip. the water is warm, so warm, beating down on your tired body and you just want to let your brain and all its stupid little thoughts to ooze out of your ears, wash away with the running shower. 

“daddy,” you whimper softly, imagining his big, calloused fingertips instead of yours, his body caging you up against the wall. he’d hold you close to him, so close, chest to chest so that your tits press up against his pecs, his left hand wrapped around your back, his right playing with your sensitive pussy. you whine, just thinking of the way he’d shush your cries, coo at you as you bite down hard on his shoulder. 

your thoughts are a haze as you dip your fingers shallowly into your cunt, sticky and slick with both shower water and your own arousal. the moans you let out are criminal, ripping through your mouth and through your lips before you can stop them. you need to feel him, any part of him now. now.

stumbling out of the bathroom, you dry your feet on the rug, patting yourself half dry before shuffling back to your bedroom, naked and damp. the bed dips where you kneel, sinking slightly and keigo stirs, but doesn’t wake. your hands are trembling, your need and excitement barely contained under a sheen of self control. need it. you need it.

you peel back the covers that obscure him from your preening gaze, miles and miles of tan, smooth golden flesh laying in front of you, sun spots and moles mapping along his torso. he’s so beautiful, it makes you want to devour him whole. he’s wearing a pair of grey boxers, the outline of his cock subtle but still, there. your mouth waters at the sight. 

“daddy,” you whisper again, mesmerised by the way his skin glows in the low lamplight, greeting you as you pull the waistband of his boxers down. “‘m sorry, need it so bad.”

keigo’s still sound asleep, completely oblivious to your mischief. you pull his boxers down, over his hips and down his thighs, and there it is; his cock, already half hard, twitches as you touch it, let your fingertip drift along the underside of it. the patch of blonde curls brushes up against your knuckles as you touch him and it’s so soft. you whimper; you want his cock in your mouth. 

so you bend down, and lick a stripe up from the base to the tip. keigo smells like fabric softener and an undertone of vanilla from your shared body wash, comforting and comfortable. gods, you want him so bad. you fit him into your mouth, and you hear a hitch in his breath, and you feel a spike in your heart rate at the prospect of him waking up to see his cock halfway down your throat, but he doesn’t rouse. just shifts slightly, and you continue.

keigo’s cock is so thick, so long, and whatever you can’t fit comfortably in your mouth you resort to stroking it slowly. your eyes flutter closed, like a baby with a pacifier. you’re quiet, humming and whimpering every so often, content with his cock in your mouth. you wish you could do this to him every night, give him a little surprise when he cums down your throat still asleep. 

you bob your head along the length of him, swallowing as much of him down as you can that you choke, gag a little. the heat in your core is searing, never-ending, building as you moan around his cock, your slobber easing the glide of it down your throat. at this point you’re drooling all over his pretty dick, breath hot and eyes hooded, watching the rapid rise and uneven fall of his chest. he’s close, you can tell by the way his thighs are clenching, balls twitching. he’s fully hard on your tongue, tip flushed red and leaking, and you think it’s a waste to have him cum anywhere but right inside you, nestled right up by your cervix.

so you pull off his dick, smile at the slight huff from him, and climb gracefully atop of him. this is new to you; you’ve only ever sucked keigo off, played with his ass for a little while he was sleeping, but never went as far as to fuck him while he was asleep. it sends an unholy thrill down your spine, and as soon as you feel the blunt tip of his cock nudge along your slit, you’re dumb to the world. 

it’s so exciting, your burning need met with his unconscious body, seating yourself on his cock. you whimper at the stretch of your ill-prepared pussy, unstretched, untouched, stinging with the intrusion of his fat cock. you fall forward, hands clattering to the sides of keigo’s torso, a gasp ripping through your lips as you slip, feel a sharp pop in your cunt before you swallow him down to the hilt. it’s not pain, not anguish that skitters through your veins, his long, thick cock bullying your walls and stretching you out. it’s familiarity. it’s the way your cunt is moulded into the shape of him, gummy walls giving way to him, your pussy spread around him, slick pooling on his navel.

it’s the familiar grumble of his chest, a grunt and a groan caught in his lips. “baby?” he calls for you, left hand reaching out to your side of the bed, as he does every night when you join him, just so he knows that you’re there. but his hands find blank canvas, and he whimpers, before his eyes flutter open just a little. and then the realisation sinks in; his body starts to wake up, synapses rousing from sleep, and he feels, feels your cunt pulse around him.

keigo groans. “baby.”

you giggle. “good morning, daddy.” 

you raise your hips just slightly, moving up along his cock before letting yourself fuck me down against him. he slings an arm over his eyes, wanton moans ripping out of his throat, and his other arm comes around to grip your hips. he guides you up, down, lets you fall against his chest as you fuck yourself violently against his cock. keigo does nothing; lies there and coos at you, “baby, naughty little baby. couldn’t even wait for daddy to wake up to fuck her, huh?”

you whimper. “no, c-couldn’t,” you manage to croak out. it feels like his dick’s in your throat with how deep he is, pushing up against your cervix, bullying your insides. he holds you close, digging his arms under your armpits and holding you, chest flushed to his. “god you— you feel so good.” 

keigo hums. “that’s my girl, that’s my girl. taking it so well,” he breathes, a stuttered gasp. “god, i’m close. did you— naughty fuckin’ girl, yeah— did you suck me off?”

you nod dumbly, panting into his mouth. “i did, daddy, couldn’t help it,” you babble, eyes crossing. “y-you looked so good, needed— ah, needed it!”

“just needed some dick in your mouth,” he hums, chuckling. “desperate little baby.”

you’re drooling on his chest, spit dribbling out of the side of your mouth. “feels— f-feels so good daddy,” you pant, trying to sit back up, planting your hands on his chest. “wanna— ride you properly.”

“go on,” he coaxes you, letting a hand drift down the side of your hip. “show daddy how you ride. make me cum.”

you fall apart, bouncing on his cock, the rough patch of blonde curls brushing up against your clit with every downward stroke. “daddy,” you whimper, head thrown back in ecstasy. “oh— oh!”

keigo grunts, the dim orange light illuminating the bounce of your tits, the vigour of your rhythm leaving both of you drooling, blabbering. “you’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, captivated by the swell of your body, the pudge flesh and doughy thighs that encompass him. the tightness in his core begins to build, his balls twitching as he tries to stave off his own orgasm in favour of yours. “are you close?” he whispers, hand coming down to rub at your sensitive clit. “wanna feel you cum.”

“w-want,” you pant. “want you to cum first.” it’s a beg, a plea, a vow. 

he grunts, eyes squeezing. “i’m pretty fuckin’ close, baby,” he whispers, thumb rubbing circles faster onto the swell of your clit. “cum with me, okay? wanna— fuck, wanna feel with milk me when i cum. can you do that?”

you’re brainless, pathetic, but hell if you were going to say no to something your daddy so politely asked. you bite your tongue, nodding slightly, and let your head tilt in pleasure, euphoria rippling through your bloodstream. he’s so deep, so good inside of you it drives you crazy, the bashing feeling of his cockhead against the gummy sweet spot in your pussy. your fists tighten, gripping him harder as you feel pressure build in your navel. “i-i’m close,” you stutter, trying to keep your eyes open. “want you to cum. c-cum for me, daddy, cum inside.”

he almost baulks at your crudeness, but obliges nonetheless. keigo’s given your everything you’ve ever wanted or needed, without so much as a second thought. “yeah? wanna feel daddy’s cum inside you?” he coos in your ear, his hands running up your thighs and settling by your hips. “want daddy to knock you up?”

you nod pathetically, mouthing, yes, yes! as he squeezes your flesh, one of his thick, giant hands pulling away your own on your clit, tinier and smaller, and replacing it with his own. “please, please, daddy—”

that does him in, bursts the tightening of his balls and feels himself empty into your waiting, welcoming cunt. all he can feel are the weak pulses of your gummy walls around him; a weak orgasm milking him for all he’s worth. his touch, grip on your clit doesn't move, just continues to fuck you through your heavy orgasm. you both cum at the same time, the gush of your cum paralleling the thick, white seed that stuffs you so full that you can feel it leak out of you through the sides of his cock. “just like that,” he whispers to you, halfway out of his own orgasm, voice still wavering and thighs shaking. “say thank you, daddy.”

“thank you daddy,” you whine, and despite yourself, you continue dragging yourself up and down his cock. it’s sensitive, painful, but you can’t seem to stop. keigo groans, hands stilling on your hips. 

“slow down, baby,” he chuckles dryly, almost like he’s in pain. “daddy’s still cummin’— ah—”

“wanna make you,” you huff, some sort of twisted energy running through your veins. “make you cum again, daddy.” you usually only had enough in you for one round, especially at a time like this, but you couldn’t stop yourself now. the feeling of his first load of cum dripping down your thighs only served to spur you on, delirious, frozen in a state of abject desire and need. “fuck, daddy!”

he whines again, head tilted back, eyes wincing. “what’s gotten into you, kitten?” keigo trails his fingers along your hips, watching you bounce on his cock, eyes hooded with euphoria. “had a good kill?”

your kill. of course it is. the blood of someone else, someone so powerful, screaming through your ears, pumping like lead in your bloodstream. it’s almost oblong, despite the liquid nature of blood, causes your hands to tremble, fingers to shake. that’s why you feel ike this. that’s why you have so much energy. that’s why you need more. you grin at keigo, and for a moment, he feels fear.

your sharp canines flash in the moonlight, its dusty silver gaze glimmering in your body, in your eyes, in the way your nails dig deeper into his chest. for years, years, keigo has only regarded you with love. with subliminal adoration. with nothing but affection, holding you in his hands. but here, in the middle of the night, he notices a splatter of blood on your collarbone. winces at the sensation of your nails breaking flesh. 

for a moment, he fears you. he fears you’ve truly lost it. 

and to be truthful, you have. you’re delirious with ecstasy, you’re high— you’ve never felt like this before. killing has never come so close to feeding. blood has never come so close to addiction. but right now, you’d do anything for this feeling to last forever. the memory of you striking your victim down, your foot holding down his neck as he thrashed, looked at you with abject horror, shimmering like tears in his green eyes.

you’ve never felt so much fun in a kill. never craved those screaming pleas, those last gasps of breaths. never have you been so excited to roll up somebody’s sleeve and take off your glove, hold them with all five fingers, your full palm against their bare skin. but this man, god, was he tantalising. his deep voice, begging you to stop, begging you to leave him be. any amount of money, he’d promised. anything. just leave me alone.

but no money could give you this feeling. this excitement. you grinned, malice and cruelty trembling on your lips. “i’m so sorry,” you mocked his weeping tones. “i’m so sorry.”

“c-crim— ah— son… reap-per,” he breathed, choking out his words. “t-they’ll—” he coughed, gasping for air. puny, pitchy, desperate gasps for air. 

“t-they,” you mocked again, gripping his arm tighter, feeling the rush of newer, fresher, stronger blood enter your bloodstream. “they’ll catch me? you have so little faith in me,” he winced, and you just laughed, flashing him your canines. 

he turned paler, rosey tinted cheeks turning blue, gaunt. the life in his eyes slowly diminished as you sucked the last remaining litre out of his body. “y-you’ll never…”he trailed off, voice turning to a whisper, then to air. 

you’ll never get away with this. 

but you would. you knew you would. and that’s why you took your own sweet time cleaning the site where your hand just was, pulling your glove back on and fishing out your needles and making four incisions; one on each elbow, and on the back of each palm. just as you always had. you traced your gloved fingers along his jaw, cold and dead, the permanent plea on the tip of his tongue. it was such a pity, that he’d fought till his last breath and still lost. 

it was true whatever they said about you, you thought as you pulled out your scalpel. that no one was safe from you. the only real way to put themselves out of danger was to keep themselves out of sight, out of mind. because once you set your eyes on someone, you didn’t stop chasing them until they were in front of you, your scalpel in their throat, dragging down, down, down. 

the man’s skin split open like rubber, and once you made your initial incision, pinpricks of the little blood he had left rising to the surface, coating your pristinely white gloves, you dived in with greedy hands, like a vulture descending upon its prey. like a predator, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. your fingers, alive with electricity, the static of your feast before you. 

you consumed. you devoured. you lived, fisting handfuls of flesh in each hand and prying it apart, the elasticity of the human skin the only testament to a dead man’s resistance. you uncovered inch by inch of glorious organ, of crimson stained ivory, of burst blood vessel. all pink and red and wet, and you want to make a mess, want to paint yourself in the remnants of this man’s blood and carry it home with you. you swore you have never felt so alive at the side of a dead man’s body.

one singular rose petal, fitted snugly in between the lungs. 

your cheeks tingled, face numb, and walked back home.

“they’ve done it again.”

the whispers on the street whistle like fallen leaves kicked up in the wind, rustling against the cool asphalt of the road. 

“the crimson reaper’s back.”

keigo barely makes it two seconds into his day before the pager buzzes. 

“did you hear who they killed this time?”

you’re half awake when he asks.

“baby?” 

you hum, softly, knowingly. 

“who did you kill last night?”

you open your eyes, and look at him through hooded lids. he’s pacing your room, golden eyes distraught, and all you do is smile at him.

seems like you already know. 

#keigo x reader #keigo takami x reader #hawks x reader #hawks smut #keigo takami smut #darkhera #tw.killing #tw.murder #tw.gore #tw.blood #tw.somnophilia #tw.daddy kink #hawks baby <3 #hera loves hawks #writing tag #owtw collab #.top

[layce2015]

Supernatural (Dean Winchester x Female!Reader)

Sam, Interrupted

Masterlist pt 1

Masterlist pt 2

*(y/n)'s POV*

"You were referred to me by a Dr. Babar in Chicago." Dr Fuller said to me and the boys after he read through some files and looks up at us. "That's right." Dean said. "Isn't there a children's book about an elephant named Babar?" Fuller asked. "I don't know. I don't have any elephant books. Look, Doctor, I-I-I think the doc was in over his head with this one." Dean said and he points at Sam. "'Cause my brother is..." he said and makes a crazy sign, circling his finger at the side of his head and whistling.

"Okay, fine, thank you. That's-that's really not necessary." Fuller said, raising his hand. Then he grabs his file and notepad. "Why don't you tell me how you're feeling, Alex?" Fuller asked Sam, who sighs. "I'm fine. I mean, okay, a little depressed, I guess." Sam replied and Fuller writes in his notepad.

"Okay. Any idea why?" Fuller asked him. "Probably because I started the apocalypse." Sam said and that seems to catch the doctor's attention. "The apocalypse?" Fuller said, confused. "Yeah, that's right." Sam said and Fuller looks at me and Dean.

"And you think you started it?" Fuller asked Sam as he turns to look at him again. "Well, yeah, I mean...I killed this demon, Lilith, and I accidentally freed Lucifer from hell. So now, he's topside, and we're trying to stop him." Sam said and Fuller looks at me and Dean again, like he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"Who is?" Fuller asked us as he nods to Sam. "Me. A-and them." Sam said as he points at us. "And these two angels." He said. "Angels? You mean, like a...like an angel on your shoulder." Fuller said. "No. One of them is named Castiel. He wears a trench coat." Sam said. "And the other is named Ariel. She has bright orange hair."

"Isn't that the name of the Little Mermaid?" Fuller asked and Sam shrugs as I bite my lips, holding back laughter. Then the doctor goes back to taking notes. "See what I mean, Doc? The kid's been beating himself up about this for months. The apocalypse wasn't his fault." Dean said and Fuller looks at him. "It's not?" Fuller asked. "No. There was this other demon, Ruby. She got him addicted to demon blood, and near the end, he was practically chugging this stuff." I said and Fuller looks at Sam, who looks ashamed.

Fuller then looks back at me and Dean. "My brother's not evil. He was just...high...yeah? So, could you fix him up so we can get back to traveling around the country and hunting monsters?" Dean asked and the doctor puts up a finger for us to wait. He picks up his phone and dials an extension. "Irma...cancel my lunch." he said and hangs up as Dean pats Sam comfortingly on the shoulder.

"Doctor Fuller would like to keep you three under observation for a couple of days." The nurse tells us as she leads us down the hallway. "The three of us? Me and her, too?" Dean asked her as he gestures between me and him. "Yes, Sugar. The doctor thinks that would be best." the nurse said and the boys and I give each other victorious smiles.

"Alright, I'm just gonna give you a little check-up." the nurse tells me as she wraps a blood pressure cuff around my right arm. "Do whatcha gotta do." I said, sighing, as she checks my blood pressure then she removes it and puts the tool away. 

"Alright, pull down your pants and hop up on that table." The nurse said and I, quickly, raise my head towards her. "Wait, what? What for?" I asked, panicked, and the nurse grabs a glove and snaps it on, smiling at me. And I felt really uncomfortable.

Later, I walked out of the room and see Dean leaning against the back of a couch, wearing patient scrubs, shoes and blue robe which is similar to the ones I'm wearing. Sam was standing in front of Dean and it looked like it they were talking. Both of them look up at me as they hear my footsteps, my arms folded against my chest and my shoulders hunched.

"How did it go for you, sweetheart?" Dean asked and I let out a shaky sigh. "I have been through a lot of crap and never have I ever felt this violated in my life." I grumble. "What about you two?" I asked. "Yeah, my nurse was very through." Dean said, looking frazzled. "Me too." Sam said, just as uncomfortable as I feel.

Minutes later, Dean, Sam and I look around the lounge, seeing the other patients including one female patient playing with a pink bunny. "I can't believe you talked us into this." I grumble to Sam. "Hey, it's the least we could do. Martin saved Dad's ass more times than we can count. He's a great hunter." Sam said. "Was. Until Albuquerque." Dean mutters.

"Besides, I just figure it's best we keep busy. That's all." said Sam. "Better than what?" I asked him. "Nothing." Sam said and I motion at him for more. "Okay. Look...um...last few weeks, you've kind of been worrying me." Sam said to me and I roll my eyes. "Oh, come on, Sam. Stop. Look, just because we're in the loony bin doesn't give you the right to head-shrink me." I said, in annoyed exasperation.

"(Y/n)..." Sam mutters. "Ellen and Jo dying--Yeah, it was a friggin' tragedy, okay? But I'm not gonna wallow in it." I said. "You can't just keep this crap in, (y/n)." Sam said, worried,  and I scoff. "Watch me." I spat at him. “Look, I know you like getting in touch with people’s feelings, man. But trying to get someone to talk when they don’t want to, isn’t gonna do you or them any favors. Just back off. (Y/n) will talk when she wants to." Dean said and I look over at Dean. "Thanks, Dean." I muttered while Sam looks annoyed.

I turn away from Sam as Dean looks over at a table nearby. "Oh, there he is." Dean said and we walk over to a table where Martin sits, staring out the window. Sam clears his throat, and Martin looks at them.

"Sam, Dean, wow." Martin said as he stands and shakes Sam's hand. "Wow, you boys got big. You look good." Martin said to the boys. "Thanks. You do, too, Martin." Sam said and Martin shakes Dean's hand and shakes it. Then he turns to me. "I'm sorry, I don't believe I know you." He said and Dean places a hand on my shoulder.

"You've heard of (f/n) (l/n)?" Dean asked Martin. "Oh, yes! I've heard of him. Your father mentioned him a lot. Didn't get a chance to work with him, though." Martin said. "Well, this is his daughter." Dean said then Martin smiles and takes my hand. "Uh...Well, thanks for coming." Martin said as we shake hands then he motions for us to sit.

Dean and Martin sit at the table while Sam and I get a chair and pull it up, sitting. "In the old days, I could've taken care of this thing with both hands tied behind my back...but, well...now..." Martin said. "What do you think it is that we're hunting?" Sam asked him. "I don't know yet. A ghost, demon, monster...animal, vegetable, mineral." Martin chuckles. "Hospital's had five deaths in the last four months. Doctors keep calling it suicides, but they're wrong." Martin said.

"So, you've seen this thing?" I asked him and Martin shakes his head. "Has anyone seen this thing?" Dean asked. "Well, a couple patients have, uh...had glimpses, but there's not a lot to go on." Martin said. "Are they reliable?" I asked. "Oh, sure, why wouldn't they be?" Martin asked and I look around at a female patient, who is dancing and humming.

Then I look back at Martin. "Gee, I don't know." I said, with sarcasm. "I know you three think I'm a bag of loose screws. Now, you wouldn't be wrong. But I wouldn't have called you unless there was something here. I can feel it in my gut." Martin said then the boys and I exchange looks before we look back at him.

"We believe you. Have you checked any of the bodies? Found signs of an attack?" Sam asked. "Well, uh, no...I don't go around dead b-b-b-bodies anymore." Martin said, flinching.

"Alex, Eddie, Joan." a voice said and the boys and I turn to see Dr Fuller standing behind us. "Well, I'm glad to see you're making friends. Why don't you and, uh, Mr. Creaser join us for group? Please. Right this way." Fuller said and we all stand. Martin, Sam and I walk over to the doctor and I look over my shoulder to see Fuller stopping Dean.

"Actually, I'm gonna be putting you in the afternoon group." He tells Dean. "What? Why?" Dean asked as Sam looks over at Dean. "Well, to be frank, uh, the relationship that you have with your brother and your girlfriend seems dangerously codependent. I think a little time apart will do you three good." Fuller said then he walks away.

The boys and I watch him go, confused. Then Dean waves goodbye to us.

Sam, Martin and I sit in a circle with Dr Fuller and a few other patients. "Alright, so...who would like to start us off?" Fuller asked and one guy raises his hand. "Anyone else?" Fuller asked, obviously a bit annoyed as the guy raises his hand a little higher.

"Alright, Ted. Calm down." Fuller said and Ted lowers his hand. "I am calm. And I'd very calmly like to talk about the monster that's hunting us." Ted said and I raise an eyebrow at this. "Ted, we're not going to have that discussion again." Fuller said while Sam and I exchange looks, intrigued. "It's not good for group." said Fuller.

"I agree. You know what else isn't good for group? A monster eating all our faces off." Ted said, worried. "Alright, fine, thank you. Now, anyone else?" Fuller asked but Ted continues. "I saw it...when it killed Susan." he said. "I did, too. It had big lobster claws." another patient said. "No, it didn't." Ted said, annoyed. 

"Yeah, and it was an alien, like on X-Files." Another patient said and Ted becomes angry. "Stop it. Stop helping. Listen to me. We're all dead!" Ted yells. "That's enough." Fuller said then he leans forward and takes off his glasses. "There is no monster." Fuller said and I look at him.

"Now, Ted, do you need me to call the orderlies.." Fuller said and Ted shakes his head. "...or can you behave?" Fuller asked and Ted nods. "Behave." he said and Sam and I exchange looks again while Martin looks over at us.

Later, Sam and I walk out to the hall and see Dean following several patients down the hall, his hands in his pockets and staring at the floor. He looked kind of depressed. "Dean, hey." Sam called out and Dean turns to us and I frown. "You okay?" I asked him. "I just got thraped. So, no, I am not okay. Tell me you guys found something." Dean said.

"Yeah. A guy says he saw the creature. We should talk to him. You wanna meet here in an hour?" Sam asked Dean. "Yeah, sooner we take care of this thing, sooner we can get gone. This place gives me the creeps." Dean said. "Yeah, same here." I said just as Dean turns around and a girl comes up, puts a hand on the back of his head and kisses him.

Anger flared in my chest and I grab the woman off of him. "Hey, back off!" I growled as I push her away from Dean and stand in front of him. "He's off limits." I stated as the girl looks at me, terrified, then she runs off. I huff out a sigh as Sam raises an eyebrow at me and I turn to Dean, who had a small smile.

"What?" I asked him. "You being jealous..." he said, pointing at me. "...will never not be hot." He said and I roll my eyes at him. "Let's just get this over with before I lose my mind." I said as I stomp pass the boys down the hall.

Later, Dean and I were waiting on Sam until he walks out of his cell with a lock-pick in his hand. "Well, it's about time. Nurses are on their rounds. We got, like, fifteen, twenty minutes." I said and Sam rolls his eyes.

"So, where is this guy?" Dean asked. "Room 306." Sam replied and we head down the hall towards Ted's room. As we round the corner, we hear Ted screaming. We rush to Ted's door and look in the window while Sam begins to pick the lock. 

"Hurry up! Come on, hurry up!" Dean yells at Sam as we see Ted's feet slam against the window. "Back off, Dean!" Sam shouts as he looks up at him. Sam returns to picking the lock, and then we lunge into the room to find Ted hanging from a pipe in the ceiling, a tied bed sheet around his neck.

The next day, we sneak into the morgue and Dean opens Ted's drawer and pulls him out. I pull back the sheet and start feeling Ted's head while Sam searches his hands. Then I find two holes just behind Ted's ears. "Hey, I think I found something." I said.

"What do you got?" Dean asked me. "Right here." I said as I point out the holes then I turn to Sam. "Hey, Sam, give me a hand." I said and Sam hands me a long Q-tip from a table and I stick it far into the hole. "This hole goes all the way through to his brain." I said. "What does that mean?" Dean asked.

"Let's find out." Sam said and Dean and I look up at him to see he is pointing at a bone saw. "Seriously?" Dean and I asked and Sam looks over at Dean. "You might want to keep watch." he tells him and Dean backs off and walks outside of the morgue.

Sam grabs the bone saw then goes over to Ted and places it at the top of his head. I wince as he saws at the top of Ted's head the he takes it off then removes his brain, which was a small, hard, black thing.

"What the...?" I asked as we looked at it but then Dean comes in. "Guys." He said, in a warning tone. "Look, his brain's been sucked dry." Sam said as he holds up the brain. "That's fascinating. Somebody's coming." Dean said and we hurry to clean up. Sam puts Ted's brain back in his head and back on.

Dean rolls Ted back into his drawer as Sam and I remove our bloody gloves and throw them in the trashcan just as one of the nurse walks in. "What are you three doing in here?" she asked us and we stand there, I couldn't think of what to say or do. And then that's when my wonderful boyfriend shrugs and pulls down his pants, and throws his arms over his head.

"Pudding!" he exclaims and he does a little jump while I close my eyes for a moment and question everything in my life. The nurse smiles at Dean then said. "Alright, come on, you three." 

Dean smiles goofily and pulls his pants back up. As he heads for the door, Dean turns back towards us. "Crazy works." he whispers to us and he walks off. Sam and I share a quick glance before we follow him out. The nurse chuckles as she follows us out the door.

Later, in the lounge, Martin, Dean, Sam and I look at paintings of clowns on the walls.n"Are those original Gacy's?" I joked as I chuckle. "I painted those." Martin said, a bit offended. "It's good." I said and Sam shakes his head.

"Back on point, please. Um...so, whatever this thing is...It Slurpees your brain, sucks you dry." Sam explains. "Yeah, then it makes the deaths look like suicides. Any ideas?" Dean asked Martin. "Yeah. A bad one." Martin said then he shows us a drawing in his journal.

"What is it?" Dean asked. "Well, I bet you a chicken dinner it's what we're up against...a wraith. They crack open skulls and feed on brain juice." Martin explains. "You ever tangle with one before?" Sam asked. "Never. Never wanted to, neither." Martin said.

"So, how do we kill it?" I asked him. "Silver. You so much as touch a wraith with the stuff, and the skin will crackle. Now, that's the good news. The bad news is...they can pass as humans." Martin said then we look around the room. "It could be any Peter, Paul and Mary in the joint." Martin said. "Fantastic." I muttered, annoyed.

"So, how do we find it?" Dean asked. "A mirror. Lore says a wraith will show its true form in a mirror." Martin said. "Okay, well, we just gotta spot check every patient and every staff member." Dean said and Sam and I nod. "Okay. Yeah. But--I mean, what's it doing in a mental hospital?" Sam asked. "A nuthouse; it's-it's-it's a perfect captive victim pool." I pointed out. "Sure. Who's gonna believe a patient when they say they saw a monster? It's the perfect hunting ground." Martin said

Later, Dean told us that Fuller was the wraith as he saw his true form in the mirror. So he, Martin and I wait in the hall until Sam walks up to us. "Alright, I had to raid three nurses' stations to get these." Sam said and he hands Dean a letter opener. "They're only silver-plated, but they should work." Sam said as he hands Martin another hand letter then hands me another.

Then the girl that kissed Dean starts heading our way. "Oh, no you don't..." I said to her when she walks up to Sam, pushes him against the wall and starts kissing him. Dean and I watch in shock while Sam looks flustered, waiting for the girl to finish.

"I want him now." the girl said then she looks at Dean. "He's larger and free." She said then she walks away. "Hm." Dean and I hum and Dean shrugs at Sam. "You've had worse." Dean said and Sam scoffs.

"Fuller is on call tonight, so we'll have to hit him after lights out. All four of us." Sam said. "What? No." Martin said, a bit panicked. "Martin, we gotta get past security, past the orderlies, and then cut the boss-man's throat, okay? It's gonna suck start to finish, but we could use the backup." Dean tells Martin. "Oh, I can't. I can't." Martin said then he begins to walk away.

"We know what happened in Albuquerque." Sam tells him and Martin stops. "You don't know the half of it." he said and he turns to us. "God, I used to be just like you three. I used to think I was invincible, and then...Well, I found out I'm not." he explained. "Martin, you're still a hunter." I said. "No. I'm not. I'm useless. Why do you think I checked myself into the Hotel California? I'd give anything to help you boys, I would. But, I-I can't. I'm sorry. I can't." Martin said, upset, and he walks away.

Later, the boys and I walk into the office, but Fuller is not there. Dean picks up car keys from the desk. "He's still in the building. You take the west wing. (y/n) and I'll take the east." Dean said as he sets the keys back down, and we leave the office.

*3rd Person POV*

Sam walks down a hallway, holding his knife at the ready. He looks in each room he passes and goes to another hallway and looks around the corner. He sees Fuller heading his way so Sam stands up against the wall, waiting.

As Fuller rounds the corner, Sam steps forward, raising the blade. Fuller puts an arm up as Sam brings the blade down, cutting Fuller's arm. Fuller yells, and Sam takes another swing before two orderlies grab Sam and begin to drag him away. Sam struggles and throws off one orderly and punches the other.

The first orderly approaches, but Sam knocks his head into a window, shattering it. He goes back to the other orderly and punches him twice while Fuller runs. Sam grabs the blade from the ground and follows then he tackles Fullee to the ground and raises the blade.

But Martin grabs Sam's arm. "No! No! Look at his arm. That cut's not burning." Martin tells him and Sam looks at the cut. "It's not him. It's not him." Martin assures and Sam begins to realize and drops the blade. He stares at Fuller, stunned at what he almost did.

*(y/n)'s POV*

Dean opens the door and he and I walk in to see Sam sitting on his bed. "You okay?" Dean asked Sam as we approach his bed. "No. No, I'm not okay. I--I am...awesome..." Sam said, giggling. "They give you something?" I asked him. "Oh, yeah. They gave me...everything. It's spectacu-lacular." Sam said before he laughs. "You always were a happy drunk." Dean jokes

Then Sam grows serious and grabs Dean's arm, pulling him down to eye level. "Dean...the doctor...wasn't a wraith." Sam said. "We know." I tell Sam, who looks at me with a comically stunned look. Like he was surprised that we'd know that. "I don't understand it. I mean, I saw it in the mirror. It wasn't human." Dean said, thinking. "Or you're seeing things. Maybe-maybe-maybe you're going crazy." Sam said. "I'm not crazy." Dean said, defensively. "Well..." I said, feigning to be thinking, then he turns to me. "Shut up!" He tells me.

"Well...come on. I mean, you've been at least...half crazy for a long time, and since you got back from hell, or since before that, even. I mean, we're in a--we're in a mental hospital." Sam laughs. "Maybe-Maybe you finally cracked! You know, maybe now you are really...for real...crazy..." Sam continues.

"I made a mistake, that's all. (Y/n) and I'll find the thing." Dean said. "Okay. Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know. I know." Sam said as he puts a hand on Dean's shoulder. Dean then looks at Sam's hand. "It's okay. Hey, hey. Look at me." Sam said and Dean looks at him. "It's okay...because you're my brother...and I still love ya." Sam said and Dean nods then Sam pokes Dean's nose and said. "Bop!" 

I start to laugh as Dean stares at him. "Can we keep this Sam?" I asked Dean and he turns and glares at me while I continue to giggle.

We leave Sam's room and Dean and I share a look. "What do we do now?" I asked him. "I think we should split up and look for this Wraith." Dean said and I nod then we split up.

*3rd Person POV*

Later, Dean was walking down the hallway and through a door when Dr Cartwright, his doctor, comes up next to him. "You missed our session today." she said to him. "A little busy." Dean grumbles to her. "Still hunting that wraith?" she asked him. "People are dying." Dean states. "People die all the time." Cartwright said. "Look, lady, why don't you just let me do my job, maybe save your life." Dean growls. "It's not my life that I'm worried about." she said.

"Oh, my G--I am fine, okay?" Dean yells, exasperated, as he stops and turns towards her. "I'm fine." He said while an orderly, who is sorting laundry down the hall, looks up at him, but goes back to his job. "Come on, even you don't believe that. All this pressure that you're putting yourself under, all this guilt; it's killing you. You can't save everybody. You can't." she said then her voice becomes hard.

"Hell, these days, you can't save anybody, Dean." she said then she turns to leave. "What did you say?" Dean asked and she turns back to him. "The truth, Dean. You got Ellen and Jo killed. You shot Lucifer, but you couldn't gank him." she said and Dean begins to get confused and a little afraid. "You couldn't stop Sam from killing Lilith, and--oh, yeah--you broke the first seal. All you do is fail. Did you really think that you, Dean Winchester with a GED and a give-'em-hell attitude, were gonna beat the devil?" Cartwright asked and Dean starts to get a little more afraid.

"Please. The world is gonna burn, and there is nothing that you can do about it." she said. "Who are you?" Dean asked, softly. "How do you know that stuff?" he asked, his voice rising. The orderly sorting laundry looks up again. "Hey, settle down." the orderly said but Dean ignores him.

"Tell me!" Dean yells at Cartwright. Then the orderly walks around his cart and begins to approach Dean. "I said, settle down." the orderly said. "Who are you?" Dean asked Cartwright again, quietly, then he backs away from her a little and looks at the orderly.

"Who is she?" Dean asked the orderly as he points at Cartwright. "Who?" the orderly asked, confused. "What are you, blind?" Dean asked him and he points again. "Her!" he yells. "Pal, there's nobody there." the orderly said and Dean stares at him then looks back at Cartwright, who has a twisted smile on her face.

"I'm not real, Dean. I'm in your head...because you are going crazy." she said and Dean looks around the hallway, Cartwright disappeared. Then he looks at the Ordrerly, beginning to fear for his sanity. "Just leave me alone." Dean mutters and he stalks down the hallway, and the Orderly watches him go.

(Y/n), on the other hand, sees a nurse and a doctor in a different hallway. She passes a mirror, where she sees that they look like a wraith. Confused, she passes them and sees two patients, who look like wraiths in another mirror. She passes them as well, heading for the end of the hall where she tries to open a door, but it is locked. She backs into the corner and slides down to the floor, panting. Her eyes follow everything in the hall, looking freaked. ​​​​What the hell is going on? She thought to herself.

She pulls her knees up to her and placed her forehead against her knees, feeling a bit overwhelmed. "(Y/n)?" A male voice said, it wasn't Dean or Sam or even Martin but it was a familiar voice, a voice she hadn't heard in a long time. "(Y/n)?" The voice said and (y/n) started to realize why the voice sounded familiar.

She raises her head up then looks over to her left and sees a man sitting next to her. She jumps a bit at this and falls over to her right side at this. "D-D-Dad?" She said, shocked, and he smiles at her. "Hey, sweetpea." He greets as (y/n) stares at him, shocked. "T-T-This isn't real." She whispers and he chuckles. “Does it matter? I’m here.” (F/n) said. “I’m losing my mind, aren’t I?” (Y/n) asked, unable to take her eyes off of him. “A little.“ He said, in a soft and loving voice.

“We should have never come here.” (Y/n) muttered. “Why? Because your screw has become loose? You came in here to help people.” (F/n) said. “Yeah and a lot of help I’m doing them.” (Y/n) said, sarcastically. “You still came in here of your own free will, with the intention on saving lives. That’s my girl, alright.” (F/n) said, with a proud smile. (Y/n) begins to tear up and she looks away to wipe her eyes. “Well, I learned from the best.” She said, smirking a bit.

“This is for the best anyway. Out there you’ll just get more people killed.” (F/n) said, all the warmth and comfort in his voice was gone, replaced with cold and bitterness. “What?” (Y/n) asked, turning her head back to see her father’s once soft expression was now harden and angry.

“Think about…first my wife dies because the demon wanted you. Then he puts cancer in me to get to you. Dean goes to hell because he had to bring you back. A lot of good that did, it just got Jo and Ellen killed too, didn’t it?” (F/n) asked, looking down at his daughter like she was nothing but a burden on everyone who knows her.

“I…” (Y/n) tried to argue but she couldn’t bring herself to do so. Some part of her believed what he was saying. “You get people killed, sweetpea. That’s your reality. Sooner or later you’re gonna get Dean killed again. And then Sam and Bobby and the angels. Everyone you love and care about is going to die, all because of you.” (F/n) said, his words getting louder and louder as he continued berating her.

(Y/n) looked at her father, terrified. “You’re…you’re not my dad. He would never say that to me.” She muttered. “Are you sure? How do you think he would react to all the little things you can do now?” (F/n) asked.

(Y/n) looks away, unable to answer him. “If he knew what you were. What’s inside you. He would’ve killed you when he had the chance.” (F/n) said and (y/n) covers her ears with her hands, trying to block him out. “Stop!” She said, closing her eyes tight. 

“You know John would have kill Sam the moment he found out he had demon blood in him. You really think I’d be any different? We were partners after all.” (F/n) said. “Shut up!” (Y/n) yelled, tearing up again. “You know I didn’t put up much of a fight when John killed Jo’s daddy. I wouldn’t have fought for you either. I’d put you out of your misery the second I learn that my little girl isn’t even human.” (F/n) taunted. “I SAID SHUT UP!” (Y/n) shouted and a nearby vase had fallen and crash

She raises her head, looks at the broken vase then sees a few people looking at her and she glares at them. "The hell you looking at?" She asked, savagely, before she gets up and walks away.

Later, Dean was sitting at a table by the window in the lounge when he sees Sam walking out with an orderly, who obviously was keeping an eye on him. Instead of Sam coming over to Dean, he walked over to the checker table and saw that he was talking to nobody.

Then he starts to look around, scared, and starts to punch at the air, like he was fighting people. Two orderlies come up to him and try to calm him and one of the orderlies grabs him. "Leave me alone!" Sam shouts as he punches him then the orderlies grab him by the arms. "Leave me alone! Leave me alone! No! Stop it! Leave me alone! Leave me alone! I didn't do it! Get off of me!" Sam screams as the orderlies drag SAM down the hall. "Leave me alone! Get off! No! Leave me alone!" Sam continues to scream as Dean thinks.

"What's happening? What's happening?" Dean said to himself, quietly.

Martin was sleeping fitfully in his bed until he hears the door open, and he sits up, brandishing the silver blade. It is Dean, who is standing next to the bed, holding his hands out and looking scared.

"Martin, Martin, it's me. It's Dean." Dean said, quietly. "Oh, sorry." Martin said as he lowers the blade. Dean puts a hand to his forehead. "You--You look like hell, boy." Martin said and Dean nods. "I-I feel like it, too." Dean said. "Where's Sam and (y/n)?" Martin asked. "I don't know where (y/n) is, can't seem to find her. But Sam...Lockdown! He went crazy! Thank God." Dean said. "What?" Martin asked, confused.

"I'm going crazy, too. I'm seeing things. I'm hearing things. I mean, we both are. Crazy is the clue." Dean said, pacing a bit. "What do you mean?" Martin asked and Dean begins to explain, but he stops and stares at the other side of the room.

After a moment, Martin snaps his fingers in Dean's face. "Dean!" Martin said as Dean jolts a little and looks back at him. "Crazy is the clue." he said. "You said that. What?" Martin said, confused. "I mean, the things that me and Sam have done, the stuff that we've seen, we're gonna end up going guano eventually. Probably end up like a couple of drooling nut bags." Dean explains then he realizes what he's said. "No offense." he said. "None taken." Martin said.

"But me and him, freaking out on the same day? I mean, it's gotta be..." Dean said. "The monster..." Martin said and Dean starts to freak out and looks around. "What? Where? Where?" He asked as he ducks down at the side of the bed. "No--It's not--No, there's nothing there." Martin assures as Dean crouches next to his bed.

"Okay. What if this thing doesn't just feed on the insane? What if it makes people insane? Is it possible? Does that seem real?" Dean asked, begging. "Well, I'm not the most reliable source on what is real, but it sounds--It makes sense." Martin said. "Okay. Okay. So-so we got infected. You know, something shot us up with crazy. You know, something..." Dean said then he begins to realize something. "Maybe...maybe it's the ghost of my dad..." Dean said. "No. Focus on the wraith, Dean. Focus." Martin said and Dean realizes he is right.

"Right, the wraith, the wraith." he said as he stands. "Okay. So, the wraith, the wraith, it-it poisoned us. It--Yeah. Maybe with venom, you know? By-by touch...or-or venom, or saliva." Dean said then he freezes. "That girl." Dean said. "You mean Wendy?" Martin asked and Dean nods. "Yes! She slobbered all over me and Sam! That's how we got infected!" he exclaims.

Later, Martin and Dean walk around the corner, heading for Wendy's room. Although, Dean is walking awkwardly and Martin notices and looks down at Dean's feet. He is walking in weird spots on the tiled floor. "Dean?" Martin asked as he stops and Dean stops also, noticing his weird look. "I can't step on the cracks." Dean said when footsteps come up behind them.

They turn around and see (y/n) coming up to them. "Hey, where have you been?" Martin asked her. "I needed some space." (Y/n) said, tiredly. "So what are you boys doing? Where's Sam?" She asked. "Sam's on lockdown. He went crazy. And we think that chick that kissed me and Sam is the wraith." Dean said and (y/n) narrows her eyes.

"It can't be her." (Y/n) said. "Why not? You can get infected by saliva, touch or venom!" Dean said and (y/n) shakes her head. "Dean, it can't be her." She said again. "Why not?" Martin and Dean asked. "Because I'm going crazy in here. I've been seeing things, hearing things....and she hasn't come near me, let alone kissed me." She said and Dean and Martin stare at her, surprised.

Suddenly, a woman screams, and they hurry off. Dean kicks in the door to find Wendy on her bed, her wrists slit. Sitting on the bed over Wendy is the nurse that brought them in and had been taking care of them. Dean and (y/n) look over in a mirror to see that the nurse looks like the wraith. They look back at the bed.

"Is this real?" Dean asked and the wraith withdraws her hand from Wendy's head. There is a skewer sticking out of her wrist, which enter Wendy's head. The Wraith brings it up and licks it off before it goes back into her wrist. "Oh, it is, Sugar. It's very real." she said then she throws Dean against the wall. Martin and (y/n) attack the wraith with their blades, but she throws them into the hall.

The Wraith pins Dean to the wall by the throat and punches him a bunch of times. Martin, meanwhile, grabs his blade and attacks the wraith. The monster releases Dean and puts a hand up to shield herself. Martin cuts her hand, and she yells as Dean slides to the floor. The Wraith's cut is burning and crackling, and she shuts the door, locking them in with Wendy. (Y/n) wakes up and shakes her head, which felt a bit cloudy and heavy, and both her and Martin see that Dean is disoriented.

Martin gets up to check on Wendy while (y/n) checks on Dean. After a moment, Wendy blinks. "She's still alive." Martin assures them.

The wraith heads down the hall, cradling her hand, and spots two orderlies. "There's three patients in Wendy's room. They attacked me." she tells them and the two orderlies rush off. The wraith watches them go and smiles, her hand drips blood as she heads down the hall.

"Dean? Can you hear me? Dean!" (Y/n) said as Dean looks up at her. "You two have gotta get out there and kill that thing. I'll take care of her." Martin tells (y/n), who shakes her head. "Not without you." She said. "You have to. You have no choice." Martin said.

Then the two orderlies walk in and grab Martin, who fights back, which makes the orderlies distracted and not notice Dean and (y/n). "Go. Kids, run! Run!" Martin shouts and (y/n) helps Dean up to his feet and they run out the door.

Dean falls against the wall, looking around, the hallway seems to spin in front of him. "Dean, c'mon!" (Y/n) pleads as he looks up at the lights, which are very bright and spin also. (Y/n) looks down at the floor to see blood droplets leading down the hallway then she felt her head pounding. "C'mon, I gotcha." She assured Dean as she helps him up again and they follow the blood trail, all the while she tries to fight through the fog feeling in her head.

Sam, on the other hand, is lying on a bed in a padded room. His ankles are strapped down, along with his wrists. The door opens, and the wraith walks in. "Hey! Let me go!" Sam shouts at her. "No. You are far too angry to be out there in the real world." she tells him and they both look up at a mirror to see that she looks like the wraith.

"You." Sam said, in realization. "Of course, it's me." she said as she looks back at Sam. "I gotta say, you hunters don't exactly live up to your rep." she said as she circles the bed. "I mean, Martin's a wreck. He's harmless." she said as Sam begins to fight the restraints.

"And you, your brother and that girl come in here, talking tough about killing monsters...kind of made you easy to spot. Then all it took was a touch..." she said and Sam realizes what happened. "...and you were mine. Oh, I love it in here." the wraith smiles as she kneels down at the head of the bed.

"This place is my own personal five-star restaurant." she said and she trails a finger across Sam's forehead and Sam jerks his head away from her. The wraith sticks her finger in her mouth and licks it, moaning. "Crazy brains." she moans then she trails another finger across his forehead. "They get soaked in dopamine and adrenaline and all sorts of hormones and chemicals that make them...delicious." she said as she licks her finger off. "And the crazier they are, the better they taste." She giggles.

"You did this to me!" Sam growls. "Well, I helped. But that rage? No, no, no. That's all you." the wraith said and she stands, walks to the side of the bed. "I don't make crazy. I just crank up what's already there." she said and Sam let's out a yell while she sits beside him.

"You build your own hell, but I give you the Legos. And when you're ripe..." she explains as a skewer pops out of her arm next to Sam's head. "...I make all of your problems disappear." she said and she turns his head to the side, sticking the skewer closer to his head.

Suddenly, the door flies open, and Dean and (y/n) stumble through. "You get away from him." Dean yells at her then the wraith stands to face the two. "Do you really think this is gonna end well for you, kiddos?" she asked them. "No." Dean said then he and (y/n) take out a silver blade each. "But we're crazy. So, what the hell?" Dean said, smiling.

The wraith chuckles and raises her hand,dher skewer goes back into her arm. Dean swings the blade at her, but she ducks and throws him into the wall. (y/n) goes after her and she grabs (y/n)'s arm, throwing her into the wall. (y/n) drops her blade while Sam watches helpless from the bed.

Dean gets up and goes to attack her but  she throws Dean into the other wall, pinning him by the throat. Dean grabs her hand as she raises her other one. The skewer jumps out, and she aims it at his forehead. Dean grabs the other arm, trying to hold it away from his head. The skewer comes out a little more, getting closer to his head. Dean grunts as he tries to push it away.

(Y/n) then comes up behind the wraith and stabs her on the shoulder with the silver blade she dropped. The wraith screams as her skin sizzles and blood pours out of the wound then Dean grabs the skewer with one of his hands and breaks it off. The wraith continues to scream and elbows (y/n) off of her as she backs into the other wall, holding her skewer hand, which is now spurting blood.

Dean holds the skewer for a moment, dropping it in revulsion. The wraith turns towards him, yelling in rage, while (y/n) tosses the blade to Dean, who then stabs the blade into the wraith's heart. The silver burns her as she hits the wall and slides to the floor.

Sam, Dean and (y/n) stare at her while Dean vision loses its fragmented pieces and becomes normal again. And (y/n) didn't feel like her head was cloudy anymore. "You still crazy?" Sam asked them as he watches the two, warily. CNot any more than usual." Dean said as he and (y/n) head over to Sam's bed, leaning over it.

"We gotta get out of here." (y/n) said as her and Dean remove Sam's restraints. "Yeah." Sam said when the alarm bell rings, and they all look up at the doorway, staring.

*(y/n)'s POV*

The boys and I burst out of the side door as the alarm bell still rings and we run towards the parking lot and the woods until we approach the Impala. "Well, looks like Tom Cruise was right. Shrinks suck." Dean quips as he reaches the driver's door and I go to the passenger but stop when I see Sam istanding at the trunk, sighing.

"What are you doing? Sam? You okay?" I asked him. "No. No. The wraith--" Sam said. "What about her?" Dean asked him. "She was right." Sam said. "No, she wasn't. She's dead, okay? Let's hit the road. I need a drink, or twelve." Dean said. "Same here." I said. "Most of the time, I can hide it, but...I am angry. I'm mad at everything. I used to be mad at you and Dad, Dean, then Lilith, now it's Lucifer, and I make excuses. I blame Ruby or the demon blood, but it's not their fault. It's not them. It's me. It's inside me. I'm mad...all the time...and I don't know why." Sam said, who looked very anguished and exasperated.

I shake my head and step closer to him. "Stop. Stop it. So what if you are? What are you gonna do? You gonna take a leave of absence? You gonna say yes to Lucifer? What?" I asked him. "No, of course not. I--" Sam said and Dean talks over him. "Exactly. And that's exactly what you're gonna do. You're gonna take all that crap and you're gonna bury it. You're gonna forget about it, because that's how we keep going! That's how we don't end up like Martin! Are you with us?" Dean asked as he gestures between me and Dean but Sam stays silent.

"Come on, Sam. Are you with us?" I asked, worried, and he looks at me and nods. "I'm with you guys." He said. "Good. Let's get the hell out of here." Dean said as he gets into the Impala. I turn to the passenger door but stop and turn to Sam, who is hesitating.

I place a hand on his shoulder and he looks at me. I give him a sympathetic and encouraging smile. He nods at me then gets into the backseat and I get into the passenger seat. Dean then drives us away into the night.

But as we drive along, even though I know it was a hallucination, the words that my father said kept ringing in my ears.

You get people killed, sweetpea. That’s your reality. Sooner or later you’re gonna get Dean killed again. And then Sam and Bobby and the angels. Everyone you love and care about is going to die, all because of you.

@rach5ive @kitsun369 @itzabbyxx @cevans-winchester @ellie-andthemachine

#fandom #fanfic #fan fiction #reader insert #x reader #supernatural #dean winchester #dean winchester x you #dean x you #supernatural dean #dean winchester x y/n #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester x female!reader #deanwinchtser #supernatural fanfic series #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fandom #tv show fandom #tv shows #tv series #tv #fantasy #horror

[mercnotfound]

~ I Think I'm Okay ~

Music Producer!Ellie Williams x OC

I Think I’m Okay {Part 1}

Music Producer!Ellie Williams x OC

Word count; 2.09k

{angry!Ellie, she's so irritable it's funny, addict!Ellie, hurt/comfort, both of them just need to heal}

Ellie is a successful music producer who is in a slump, carving her way through a hundred and one different highs to try and find her next hit, until she meets her.

Ellie groaned, squeezing her eyes shut as harsh sunlight tried to force its way between her eyelids and poke at her aching brain. You’d think she’d be used to hangovers by now, what with having them every other day (it was either a hangover or a come-down). But yet here she was, flat on her stomach pushing her face into the pillow and dreading the day ahead, even with the knowledge that her morning hit would make things a little easier.

She was lacking inspiration these days, and Jesse was on her back about a new track that was due in a week that Ellie hadn’t even begun composing a beat for, let alone lyrics. 

She groaned again and rolled over, her t-shirt riding up a little, making goose bumps rise along her skin. She glanced to her left and saw her phone flashing, so leant over to pick it up.

The screen was flooded with texts from Jesse asking where she was, and Ellie sat up sharply in bed as she realised she was thirty minutes late. Her head exploded in pain at the sudden movement and she felt a sudden bout of nausea wash over her. 

Ellie sent a quick text to Jesse saying she’d just woken up and would be there soon, then set her phone back down and wearily got out of bed.

After downing a glass of water and aspirin, Ellie walked into the living room, stepping over empty takeout boxes, cans and bottles of cheap alcohol and dirty clothes to the dresser under the window. She pulled open the top drawer and picked out a pre-rolled joint and a lighter, then slammed the drawer shut and lit the joint as she walked back to her bedroom to get dressed.

She balanced it on her bedside table as she pulled a ratty black band-tee over her head, then keenly returned it to her lips and took a long drag, then pulled on her baggy jeans, carabiner thudding against her thigh.

Soon enough, the headache began lifting and she felt the heaviness on her shoulders ease a little. She lifted her eyebrows and sighed contentedly, then headed out the room and grabbed her keys off the hook, put on her boots and headed out.

***

“You stink.”

Ellie rolled her eyes, sitting back in her chair and spreading her legs wide to get comfy.

“Thanks, Jesse.”

“Did you smoke before you came?” Jesse asked, leaning over his notepad and barely sparing Ellie a glance as he scribbled away, seemingly not lacking inspiration like she was.

“S’breakfast.” Ellie said, sucking her teeth and glaring down at her own, empty notepad. After a moment, she noticed Jesse staring.

“Are you okay, Ellie?” 

Ellie blinked. “Yeah? Why?”

“You’re high like, every time I see you, Ellie. You haven’t finished a song in months and we barely see you anymore.” Jesse frowned, looking at Ellie as if he were trying to analyze her. Ellie hated that.

“I’m just busy Jesse.”

“Busy doing what? Not writing songs that’s for sure.”

“Oh, screw you Jesse. I’m trying.”

Jesse held his hands up in mock surrender and shrugged. “Whatever, man. We’re just worried about you, that’s all. Dina keeps asking why you don’t come over anymore.”

“I’ll come over soon.” Ellie muttered, tapping her pencil on her notepad as she felt irritation begin to seep in. 

“Sure.” Jesse muttered before turning back to his notepad, an uncomfortable silence dropping around them. Ellie glanced at the time, seeing she’d been there for around a half hour and decided enough time had passed to excuse herself to her private studio without Jesse complaining too much.

“I’m gonna go n’try fix up a couple beats in my studio. I’ll show you anything I’ve got after lunch.”

Jesse hummed in response and Ellie hastily grabbed her things and left, heading straight to the elevator, having to do the awkward half-run-half-walk to get in as someone inside held open the doors for her. He thanked them and pressed the button for her floor.

She stepped out moved to unlock the studio door, pressing her hip against the doorframe as she didn’t bother to unhook the key from her carabiner. She dropped down into her desk chair and glanced at her watch.

“Alright Ellie, two hours. Let’s do this.” She cracked her knuckles and set to work.

&lt;3

It was pitch black out by the time Ellie arrived back at her apartment. The two hours she’d allocated herself turned into three, then four, then Jesse dragged her out for lunch and forced a half a burger and fries down her as she showed him the feeble beats she’d come up with in those four hours. She watched Jesse gently give critique, and cringed as her friend searched for something positive to say, then shut herself back in the studio for another seven hours.

Now though, she was home, and her body was aching for a hit of something. She’d downed a bottle of beer she kept in the studio's mini fridge, but it had only temporarily taken the edge off. 

She needed something stronger.

Success came at a price, afterall, and no matter how many times Jesse told her they’d “made it” now that their work was in high demand, she always wanted to go higher.

She couldn’t sleep because that was a waste of time, so she took things to keep her awake and inspired, then, when her body was all but half-dead, she took something to send her to sleep. Then she woke up and the cycle started again. Ellie wasn’t addicted - she could stop whenever she wanted - but she hadn’t made it yet, and until she did, this was necessary.

As soon as the door was shut behind her she headed to the dresser in her living room, getting down on her knees and opening the bottom draw, which appeared empty. Carefully, she lifted the bottom of the drawer from the edge and revealed the secret compartment beneath, containing a small pile of plastic baggies and an old credit card. She pulled one of the baggies out and restored the drawer, then went and sat on the couch, leaning forward over the coffee table. 

Ellie poured the white contents of the baggie out onto the table and picked up the credit card, then began to divide the substance into small, thin lines. Soon enough she was done, and she rolled her shoulders back before plugging her right nostril, leaning down and snorting the first line.

Her mind exploded in a haze of white for a second, before dulling down, numbing her a little. She bent down and snorted another line, then another and finally the last, then sat back and felt herself getting number and number, like a bunch of harsh edges being slowly rounded off, becoming softer and softer. 

She felt her eyelids getting heavy and groaned.

“No, s’not supposed to do that.” She muttered, feeling her head lul to the side as a comfortable warmth settled over her. Ellie tried to fight it off, but soon enough, her eyes were drifting shut, and she was asleep.

&lt;3

Ellie woke abruptly to a loud banging. She sat up, blinking dazedly as she remembered why she was asleep in the first place, then winced as she felt the aching in her head and muscles kick in. 

The banging hadn’t stopped, it was constant and as Ellie listened harder she realised it was the front door. She sighed, then glanced at the clock on the wall to see it was 3am, and frowned as she wondered who it could be.

She stood up slowly, and walked to the door on stiff legs as the banging continued at a rapid and constant rate. With each step she could feel her temper rising and as she reached the door and gripped the handle the last feelings of sleepiness faded away, and Ellie scowled as she swung the door open.

Standing with her fist raised, poised to thump the door again, was a girl presumably around Ellies age. She had long curly hair, dishevelled and tucked messily behind one of her ears, was a head shorter than Ellie and wore a large jumper that almost swallowed her whole. Upon closer inspection Ellie noticed her eyes were red-raw and watery and the skin on her face blotchy.

“What the fuck?” Ellie muttered, her confusion taking over the irritation as the other girl lowered her fist and took a glance behind her before shoving Ellie out the way and walking into her apartment.

“Hey, what-”

“Shut the door.” The girl spoke in a soft voice that had a strange effect on Ellies breathing, and chewed her lip as she waited for Ellie to comply.

Ellie frowned, then stuck her head out the door and looked both ways down the hallway. Unsurprisingly, it was empty, the late time meaning most were in bed. Ellie was about to withdraw back into her apartment and ask at the girl to get the fuck out when she heard the elevator at the end of the hallway let out a soft ping. 

Ellie stuck her head back out, watching as the doors slid open and a man stepped out, dressed in a black hoodie that was drawn up and grey sweats, the ankles soaked dark with rainwater and mud. The man looked up, and Ellie saw his face was partially covered by the zipper of his jacket coming all the way to just uner his nose, leaving mainly his eyes visible under the dim flickering lights. They locked eyes and Ellie froze, her spine immediately going rigid and all alarm bells in her mind ringing.

She didn’t recognise the man, yet something in her was willing her to shut and lock the door, even with the stranger inside, moreso with the stranger inside, in fact. 

The moment the man stepped out of the elevator Ellie pulled back inside and slammed the door shut, sliding the extra lock into place that she normally neglected before turning the main lock and stepping back, staring at the door as if she expected it to be spontaneously blown off its hinges.

“Did he see me?” The stranger spoke from behind.

Ellie turned, staring dumbly at the girl as her still slightly white-flooded mind tried to catch up on the situation.

“Hello?” That voice again. Ellies breathing.

“He didn’t see you, he saw me though.”

The stranger nodded.

“Care to explain why the fuck you woke me up at 3am and barged into my apartment?” Ellie sighed, feeling a little irritation begin to crawl in but she was mainly tired now, her limbs feeling heavy and a headache growing behind her forehead.

“I had to get away from him, that guy.” The girl frowned, “Sorry I woke you…”

“Who was that? Did he hurt you?” Ellie gave the girl a once over, checking for any visible injuries.

“He’s… just an ex, an obsessive one. You know the type.” She shrugged. Ellie snorted.

“No, I don’t know the type.”

The girl shrugged again and then pulled her phone from her pocket, checking it and then slipping it away.

“Well, thanks for letting me in, I’ll go now.”

Ellie frowned. “Seriously? What if he’s still out there?” A thought crossed her mind and her heart jumped suddenly. “Did you call the cops?”

“No,” The girl laughed softly. “Don’t worry, your stash is safe. You’ve got a little something,” She flicked the tip of her own nose, grinning, “Just there.”

Ellie wiped her nose quickly and coughed awkwardly.

“Uh yeah.. Thanks.”

The stranger walked back over to the door, undoing the locks as Ellie just watched, dumbfounded and still confused.

“And I’ll be okay, a friend is on their way up, they’ll take me home. Thanks for your help…” She looked back expectantly.

“Ellie.” She found herself offering.

“Ellie. Thanks, Ellie.” The girl smiled, then in a blink had slipped out the door, leaving the apartment as silent as it was before.

“What the fuck?”

#tlou x reader #the last of us part two #ellie williams hcs #ellie williams #the last of us #tlou2 ellie #ellie williams fanart #ellie williams x female reader #ellie tlou #the last of us 2

[mariamakeslemons]

Non-Canon CoD Characters as 70s slasher characters

Like TF141 and the Canon characters before them, I'm now putting some of the popular multiplayer characters as 70s characters. And once again, none of them can be killers.

König is an awkward man who was invited for some strange reason. He's social anxious with very little ability to speak with people without freaking them out. He's basically the human version of a glass sliding door, completely unhinged. He might be obsessed with the final girl, making him a perfect red herring for the killer. Because of his size, the killer takes him by surprise. He's still able to fight, but no where near his full ability.

Horangi is basically that one guy who has a gambling addiction and makes it everyone else's problem. He has his moments where he's nice-ish, but he's more of a dick than anything else. He starts up a game of cards, only to lose due to overconfidence. Eventually, he ends up drinking himself stupid and passing out. This gets him killed.

Nikto is that one guy no one knows how they're remotely friends with him. He constantly threatens violence, whether it's to make people back off or just aggression, no one knows. He's an obvious red herring when the killings start, as well as openly fucked in the head. Eventually, he decides to hunt the killer on his own. Obviously, he goes down fighting, but holy shit he should be in therapy.

Krueger is the mean stoner of the group. He straight up confesses to only being with the group to get his hands on the good shit. He might join Horangi's game, but he doesn't really give a shit. By the time the killer starts ramping up, he's high as a kite and not as coordinated as he could be. Killed without a struggle.

Roach is the cute, sweet mute guy. He's a little awkward, with only the 141 acting as a translator for him, but he's eager to help the group. If the 141 is picked off before him, he finds a notepad to write on, often communicating with the final girl over anyone else. Depending on the killer and what kind of 70s slasher this is, it's a coin toss if he'll live or not. If attacked and killed, he's going down with a fight, managing to make enough noise to alert the other survivors to avoid the killer.

#konig call of duty #horangi #cod nikto #cod krueger #gary roach sanderson #my work

[fatkish]

Hi! I'm a big fan of the work you do, and I was hoping that I could make a request! Headcanons for Midnight, Mt Lady, Ryukyu, and the Wild Wild Pussycats (Sorry if this is a lot! Please feel free to take as much time as you need if you choose to do this! Also I think that the Wild Wild Pussycats deserve more love from the MHA community) with their adopted son or daughter who suffered from abuse by their previous family and now has a hard time dealing with their trauma.

I'd really appreciate it! Hope you're having an awesome day!

(Sorry for not including Mt. Lady, Pixie Bob, Tiger or Ragdoll. I tried to look up their character profiles but I just couldn’t come up with anything for them or I just couldn’t picture them actually looking after and taking care of a child, sorry)

Midnight, Ryukyu and Mandalay x Adopted, Abused Child Reader

The story here is that your parents were drug addicts or criminals that basically ignored you. You were 8 when you were saved. Each of these guys have different scenarios on how they found you as well as how your life is with them. (Sorry if it’s a little redundant)

Midnight:

Your parents were drug addicts that cooked meth and barely ever paid you any attention

You had gotten used to constant hunger and had learned to live off of dumpster diving

You’d go to the dumpsters behind stores and collect whatever goods/food you could find

Places you often went to were beauty stores since you learned that there was money to be made by selling the products that the stores dump

You were quirkless which is why you were constantly on your own. You’re parents had no idea where you were half of the time and didn’t care

One day when Nemuri had the day off she saw the dirty and malnourished child walk into the alley behind the makeup store

She followed you and saw you climb into the dumpster and start filling up a small backpack with items from the dumpster such as lotions, lipsticks, foundations, perfumes, etc.

When you had finished, you climbed out only to see Nemuri staring down at you

When she asked what you were doing, you immediately tried to run away but she quickly used her quirk to put you to sleep

After finding out about your situation when she brought you to the hospital, your parents were arrested and charged with child neglect and endangerment

Nemuri noticed that you would rarely ask for things and had a hard time advocating for yourself

If she didn’t bring something up first, then you’d likely ignore it or wouldn’t say anything

You felt immense guilt in simply asking for a snack or a hug or things like that

So she started having you use a journal to help you understand and validate your feelings. She’d leave a notepad with a box for you to write down your thoughts and feelings so that you guys can read them together when she has the time

Ryukyu:

You had been another child who was used by the Shei Hassaikai. Your quirk allowed for your blood to cure all types of illnesses

Your parents sold you to Chisaki due to them being in debt and needing the money

Chisaki was using you to create vaccines

When the Raid took place, you managed to escape but were terrified of men

Since Ryukyu was one of the few females involved, she decided to adopt you

You originally hated touch but learned to love it after awhile

Your favorite thing is cuddling with Ryukyu

Ryukyu brings you to her agency and has you do your homeschooling there. If you want to go to public school then that’s fine, but while you’re healing, you get to stay with her

She tells people to let you come to them instead of walking up to you

Nejire is like a big sister to you

Wild Wild Pussycats, Mandalay:

In this case, your parents weren’t as bad, but they weren’t the best. They struggled to understand you and how your mind worked which ultimately led them to unintentionally neglecting you

You were a very quiet child and had a hard time with talking, not that you couldn’t talk, it’s just that speaking was very difficult for you

Your parents lived in a cabin in the woods and you loved it, until a forest fire broke out, you see, your quirk is fire manipulation, basically fire bending, you were playing outside at night when you accidentally set fire to the forest

It quickly spread and ended up consuming your home at night, your parents tried to drive away but they realized you weren’t with them which led them to suffocate from the thick smoke whilst they searched for you

You thought your parents abandoned you so you stayed put in your little tent in the woods. Your quirk allowed to keep the fire at bay but the panic and fear caused the flames to out of control

When the Wild Wild Pussycats got the call, Ragdoll reported your location and quirk. Pixie-Bob used her earth manipulation to smother the flames. While Tiger searched the area, Mandalay tried talking to you telepathically

She helped you breathe and calm down, as you breathed, the flames seemed to grow and shrink with your breathes. After you calmed down, Mandalay eventually reached you and brought you to their place in the woods

Originally you were terrified of fire due to the trauma of accidentally killing your parents, even though they ignored you often

Mandalay introduced you to her nephew Kota, Kota saw how terrified of fire you were and showed you his water quirk

Together with therapy and the joined help of Mandalay and Kota, you slowly learned to accept your quirk and lost your fear of it

Kota also helped you with speech therapy and you slowly learned to speak

Every step of progress you made, no matter how small, was celebrated and praised, even when you relapsed your were congratulated for your effort

#mha x reader #bnha x reader #midnight x reader #Nemuri katana x reader #Nemuri x child reader #Ryukyu x reader #Ryukyu x child reader #pro heroes x child reader #Mandalay x reader #Mandalay x child reader #wild wild pussycats #x child reader #x abused reader

[tsukiyohanayome]

Kinktober 2022, my own prompt list and it's a secret, will be revealed as I post, hopefully everyday.

day 1 Size Difference Kink

First day already feels like a failure because my notepad closed on its own and I lost my thing without it being saved, the pain T-T Ive tried to rewrite it but changed my mind with some stuff and here we are.

tumblr now allows to mark stuff as mature so I'm doing it, but obviously, minors DNI.

You've never felt truly small compared to anyone. That was until you met him. 

From the very first second you saw him, you felt impossibly small and that stirred new emotions, you'd never expect to feel towards someone that held you a prisoner. 

You swear you could watch him for hours, when he was sitting on his enormous throne, his arms resting on his lap, while one was supporting his head. It didn't help that he had four arms. Large, veiny, with perfect, godlike sculpted muscles. You could almost picture what his hands would feel like around your throat when he was ripping his prey apart with his extremely sharp, long nails. His one hand could wrap around your throat with ease. 

His figure dwarfed you whenever you were standing next to him. He was twice your size, at least. It wasn't hard to imagine your self kissing down his chest to his stomach and that perfect V line that was presented to your eyes nearly all the time, since he liked to wear his kimono down. 

He was so big. You got claimed as his "personal" helper, you got to keep him well fed, helped to keep his body clean and from time to time you could catch a glimpse of what was hiding below his waistline. They were bigger than anything you'd ever seen. You always wondered what he'd think if only he knew. What would he do if he knew that you fantasized about him daily. 

You swear that sometimes you caught him looking at you as you were doing your work and the thought of him watching you was even more arousing and made it harder to keep your little secret. 

But he knew. He knew it from the very beginning but left you oblivious for quite a good time.

Sukuna also was obsessed with how small you were. The fact that he could practically grab you like nothing with just one of his hands made him feral. You were so small and he could break you, he could ruin you, oh how he wanted to... But he was patient. He wanted to see when and who was going to break first. Who will make the first move? He was waiting... Of course it was you.

Now, your knees are burning and you're choking on one of his cocks, barely able to take half of it on your first time. It was euphoric to Sukuna how quickly you became addicted to him, to his touch. How quickly you began to beg for him. How cute you looked now, between his thighs, struggling to fit him in your mouth. He couldn't wait to see how well you're going to take him when he bends you over.

Two of his hands knead your breasts, one wrapped around your neck, squeezing lightly and one at the back of your head, setting a pace to your ministrations. Your hands wrapped around the shafts of his cocks, helping where your mouth couldn't reach. 

He grabbed you by your waist, lifting you up and placing in his lap, your pussy "accidentally" brushing the tips of his leaking cocks. Sukuna slowly drags his sharp nail from your bottom lip, through your neck, chest, stomach, stopping right before your pleasure bud. "Tell me how much you want it" he whispers to your ear, as his finger starts circling slowly on your clit.

@tsukiyohanayome 2022

#sukuna drabble #sukuna smut #jjk smut #sukuna ryoumen x you #sukuna ryomen x y/n #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x you #its much shorter than i wanted to but i also want to leave sexy times for the next days so #i also desperately tried not to input worship here #ryomen sukuna smut

[no-side-us]

Letters From Watson Liveblog - Sep. 1

The Missing Three-Quarter, Part 1 of 2

This story was published in 1904, so that would make this story take place around 1897 or '96, give or take a year because of how vague Watson is. Regardless, for people making timelines (who are braver than most), I imagine statements like this are either incredibly frustrating in pinning down an exact date, or a sweet reprieve because there's more freedom to pin it where you want.

I never considered it before, but maybe one of the reasons Watson moved back in with Holmes in Baker Street was to make sure he didn't fall back into his addiction. I like the idea that Watson is constantly helping Holmes through it in the background of all these adventures.

From what little I remember this is a missing persons case, so I'm not quite sure how that's more appropriate for Holmes than the police. Hopkins was probably just swamped with work and knew Holmes would be able to solve whatever was going on.

Cyril Overton is fun, a real gentle giant sort of character. I can also relate to Holmes' reaction and subsequent lack of sports knowledge. Although I feel he should be somewhat familiar if only in regards to the possibility of it pertaining to a case, but I guess that's what this story is for.

Ah, writing impressions. I remember doing those as a kid, taking my dad's notepad and finding some tax thing I was too young to care about. I'm surprised it took so long for it to appear in these stories.

Usually when a character says they are the only family someone has got, it's a sentimental line, and I'm not sure it works the other way. Funny, though. Anyways, I doubt Lord Mount-James is involved in Godfrey's disappearance, at least not directly. It just seems like too much effort for someone like him.

I'm not going to go through all the cases so far to see whether that's true. But Watson's not wrong, so far there's very little to go off. I hope it's related to rugby though, as I was disappointed at how Watson didn't talk about it at all in today's letter. I want to see him gush about it, reveal his favorite teams, players, use specific terminology, etc. Just utterly surprise Holmes with his sports knowledge. Hopefully in the next letter.

Part 1 - Part 2

#letters from watson #the missing three quarter #sherlock holmes #john h watson #cyril overton #godfrey staunton #lord mount-james #stanley hopkins #arthur conan doyle #liveblogging sherlock holmes

[rottenpumpkin13]

Onomastics

⏤ crisis core: final fantasy vii.

⏤ fluff; ;in which a certain baby boy needs a name.

⏤ wc: 900

⏤ a/n: i like to hc that genesis's parents aren't complete assholes. so i wrote this fluffy scenario as a small writing exercise :) p.s. i'm pretty sure his parents' names haven't ever been revealed in canon, but i read somewhere that they're called Uriah and Seraphina so that's what I've been calling them in my head all along

✏︎ on·o·mas·tics (noun): the study of the history and origin of proper names, especially personal names.

⏤

“Angeal?”

The red leather creaked as he leaned back, sinking into the chair and bracing his head on his open palm. The name reverberated back into his pool of thought, stretching and molding itself as he considered it. No, he thought, Angeal Rhapsodos doesn't sound right either.

A miffed huff from the female voice at the armchair redirected his attention. Seraphina Rhapsodos sat with her legs pulled up to her chest, balancing a notepad on her knees where she now crossed off the name from the list.

"I know, I know," she furiously scratched the pen against the paper, "but it's the name Gillian suggested and I don't have the heart not to consider it."

The corner of Uriah’s lips quirked upward at the sight. She wiggled her bare toes, scratching her head with the back end of the pen and entangling her messy, brown hair with the utensil.

Seraphina had been a sight to behold for the past two days. She had foregone her fashionable clothes and finery for whatever garbs she saw first, briskly throwing them on. She didn't want to waste even a second away from the baby.

Gillian had a complicated pregnancy and an even more tumultuous delivery. The culmination of monitoring the surrogate's unstable health, then worrying for the child's life had drank up all their attention up until they welcomed the baby. A healthy baby boy.

A nameless, healthy baby boy.

"Maelstrom?" Seraphina suggested.

Uriah immediately grimaced. "Maelstrom Rhapsodos. He won't be able to spell his name."

"Wallace?" She tried.

"Goddess no, that's horrid."

"Azariah?"

"No. Remember my late uncle Azariah? He was a drunk with a gambling addiction."

Seraphina looked up, pulling a face. "What in Gaia's name does that have to do with…" She shut her eyes, breathing deeply before shaking her head. "Nevermind. What about Constantine?"

Uriah pulled one leg up on the chair, continuing to flip through one of the many books littering his desk. "Sera, dearest, if you want our son to be bullied, kindly refer back to your mother's suggestion."

"Wha—?" Seraphina slammed the notepad on the coffee table, uncurling her body as she sat up. "D'Artagnan Rhapsodos sounds very noble!"

"And batshit insane, might I add," Uriah smirked.

"Fine then!" She rose to her feet, crossing her arms and delicately stepping over the books strewn on the floor. "What about Gibson? Plain and Simple."

"Gibson?" Uriah choked on the name, clutching his copy of LOVELESS. "The boy's not even three days old and his mother is condemning him to a lifetime of being called Gibby."

"You're insufferable," she threw her head back, attempting to drown out her husband's laughter.

"I still think it should have a religious connotation," he flipped through the book, scanning it for any possible names. "It'll sound fashionable."

Seraphina paced the room, her head still reclined as she traced her eyes over the patterns on the ceiling. "Hm…I'm trying to recall the chapter titles in that religious text…Matthew, Joshua, Peter…"

"Boring, bland, flavorless," Uriah echoed. He leaned forth, propping his elbows on the desk.

"Psalm, Chronicle, Leviticus, Genesis, Exodus, Roman—"

"Wait, go back," Uriah snapped his fingers.

Seraphina froze in place, leveling his widened gaze as she turned to face him. "Exodus?"

"No, before that!"

"Genesis?"

A sharp knock at the study door interrupted their banter. It creaked open as a nurse peeked her head inside. "Ma'am, I'm sorry to interrupt. You ordered to see him as soon as he woke up."

Seraphina's previous frustration dissipated quickly, being overtaken by pure joy as she gasped. "Yes, yes! Where is he?"

The nurse opened the door, making way for another one, who held a bundled ball of red blankets in her arms, gingerly meeting Seraphina halfway.

"Hello, my darling," Seraphina's voice was a hushed lullaby as she reached for the baby. Her hair fell over her eyes as she looked down, taking the infant in her own arms and immediately rocking him.

Uriah rose from the chair. "How's Gillian doing?"

"She's doing much better, sir," the other nurse answered. "Professor Hollander says she'll be free to go home tomorrow morning, if all goes well."

"Nonsense," Uriah waved his hand dismissively, approaching his wife. "Tell her she's welcome to stay until she fully recuperates."

Once the nurses took their leave, Uriah and Seraphina were left completely alone with the baby. Seraphina couldn't hold the tear that spilled down her reddened cheeks.

The baby looked utterly peaceful. His eyes were partially opened, the faint glow of the Mako meeting her gaze, which in turn was wrought with joy. Soft cheeks. A twitching nose. Small hands clutching the red blanket, and a tuft of russet hair peeking out from his little cap.

"Genesis," Uriah's soft voice whispered. "Genesis Rhapsodos."

Seraphina looked up, finding her husband smiling at the baby, a glint of wonder in his eyes as he looked from her to his newborn son.

"Alright," she nodded shakily. "Well then. Hello, Genesis…" She giggled. "Aren't you the most darling thing?"

A muffled coo was the baby's reply.

Uriah rested his hands in the pockets of his trousers, leaning back on his desk. He watched her sink into the plush seat, rocking Genesis in her arms.

Uriah reached for the nearest book behind him.

"Infinite in mystery is the gift of the goddess," he began to read to them. "We seek it thus, and take to the sky…"

#ffvii #genesis rhapsodos #crisis core #ff7 #crisis core headcanons #ffvii crisis core #angeal hewley #ff7r #sephiroth #final fantasy vii #final fantasy 7 #ficlet

[gojo-simp69]

Body Addiction

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄

𝗕𝗢𝗗𝗬 𝗔𝗗𝗗𝗜𝗖𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡

No One’s POV:

𝗪𝗔𝗞𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗨𝗣, 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗦𝗧𝗥𝗘𝗧𝗖𝗛𝗘𝗗 your arms and revel in the delightful morning stretch. You decide to start the day with a nice shower to wake you up. Your breakfast was some tea and a small dish of eggs. You've been trying to eat less and drink more water but it doesn't last long. After placing your bowl in the sink, a knock at the door makes you turn your head.

When opening the door, your (eye color) eyes widen at the basket on your doorstep. You take it inside your home and examine the snacks that it held.

Chocolate-covered strawberries, expensive candies, and rich tea packets filled the woven basket. The basket was covered in fuchsia roses that wrapped around beautifully. A pink notecard peaked from the top. You rip it off and examine it.

To my goddess

-T

It read. You blushed at the note and teared up a bit at the fact someone had spent so much money on you. But not just anyones spending money on you.

It's the guy you've been seeing...Tengen Uzui.

You met him at the teashop a few days ago...or so you thought it was your first time meeting.

A few days earlier~

The waitress walks up to your booth, placing a small dish with a single (favorite flavor) cupcake on the table. Your head peaked up from your book in curiosity. "Sayaka, I didn't order this. You know I'm on a diet." You remind your friend. "It was the hottie over at table 5 in the back who ordered it. The gentleman with long white hair." She smirks at you.

"He said, and I quote, "Give the thick (hair colored)-haired beauty over there your finest cupcake." And he paid extra for a tea of your choosing so what do ya want?" She pulls out a notepad.

"U-Uh! My usual please." Your shocked state remained even when Sayaka goes to get your order. You turn your head to take a small peak at the man who bought you the dessert and when you do, your eyes widen.

He was hot as hell.

He stared at you, red eyes looking back at yours whilst the unknown man held a genuine smile on his face.

'There's no turning back now! I'm finally interacting with her after all that time watching from afar!' Tengen hides the crazed smirk with a handsome smile when you look at him.

He's waited since your first encounter to talk to you but...he was nervous. You made him nervous for the first time in his life. If you can make him feel like that then, it was meant to be.

You turn your body to face your cupcake and take a bite. The dessert's creamy filling melts on your tongue and satisfies your taste buds.

A presence makes itself known to you when it stands across from you. "Is this seat taken?" A deep silky voice makes asks you, making your heart flutter. "No, it's not." Your voice makes Tengen falter a bit.

This is the first time he's heard your voice and he just begging to hear you scream his name.

After Tengen takes a seat, he introduces himself. "My name is Tengen Uzui, beautiful. What's yours?"

"Y/n L/n. I just wanna thank you for the cupcake-”

"Here's your tea, (Nickname)!" Sayaka puts your usual tea on the table before going back to work.

"And tea!" You finish your sentence with a coy smile, blowing on your tea. Tengen looks at the plate the cupcake use to be on.

"Would you like another cupcake? Any flavor you want?"

"No, it's fine. I shouldn't have had it anyway. I'm on a diet." You smile at Tengen before fever breaks across your face.

'He doesn't need to know that!! Why would you say that?!' You curse yourself.

Uzui's smile faltered slightly at the mention of a diet. 'But why? You should eat what you want when you want. Is someone making you insecure?'

"My apologies. I didn't mean to make it seem like I'm trying to shove food down your throat." He bows his head a bit.

"Of course not, Tengen- oh, is it okay to call you by your first name?" The question flies over his head due to him being too busy obsessing over the way his name fell past your plump lips.

"Ngh~! Tengen~! Harder~! Please! D-Daddy~!" You moan, breast bouncing with the sync of Uzui's rough thrusts.

His cock impales your warm walls over and over as your thick thighs wrap around his muscular waist.

"Tengen, are you okay?" You wave your hand in his face, snapping him out of his lewd daydream. "Yes. It seems your flamboyant looks brought my world to a halt." He smirks at your flustered state.

'Is he...really interested in me?' A forced laugh escapes your lips as you awkwardly play with your hair.

"I know this seems sudden but...would you like to go on a date with me?" Tengen asked.

#yandere tengen uzui #yandere tengen uzui x reader #tengen uzui x reader #bodypositivity #thick reader #chubby reader #tengen uzui x y/n #mature

[lostlegendaerie]

Could you share more about your Topclair Bioshock Modern AU? I am a sucker for those two.

Of course!

This is a VERY old idea I shared with NeverwinterThistle (who I think is still on AO3 and one of the most GORGEOUS writers of my generations in my opinion) but basically:

Augustus Sinclair is a somewhat-shady lawyer; he takes cases no one else will as the sort of self proclaimed "people's lawyer" which uhhhhh usually just means he gets paid to argue for a helpless case. Something between an "ambulance chaser" and a mob lawyer. But anyway, one day he finds a horribly scarred mute man in his office who has come based on Sinclair's promises to take any case. Through a series of written answers on a notepad, the man (Juan aka "Delta") explains that he was a reporter disfigured while reporting overseas (losing his voice and a leg and covering much of his body with scar tissue) and he wants to win custody of his eleven year old daughter from her mother.

So Sinclair looks at this case, of trying to take a little girl away from her rich white suburban mother and give her to a disabled reporter and goes "yeah that's easy money" but then he gets to see how Delta loves this girl he so seldom gets to see and how kind he is, especially in the face of the mother Sophia who is running for office and trying to erase the fact that she had a biracial child out of wedlock and Sinclair goes "aw fuck I'm gay AND I care" with the same energy of that SpongeBob meme from the bad breath episode

Anyway it still needs a lot of work to avoid misogyny regarding Sophia (who uhhhhh was honestly kind of right about some stuff, I love Bioshock but some worldviews are just More Wrong than others and trying to claim capitalism is just as bad as socialism when capitalism had traps inside their vending machines that would hurt you if you tried to hack the prices lower and socialism literally gave out Eve via vending machines to help their addicted populace is just. uuuuuhhghghghgg) but the IMPORTANT thing is that they kissed. A lot. As they should, because Delta is best dad/daddy and Sinclair deserves to get railed.

#Saro's writing #bioshock 2 #topclair #delta/sinclair #the older I get the more I wanna steal the franchise from Ken Levine #or make my OWN gorgeous period piece with political commentary set in a fish tank

[veeaxx]

*+:｡.｡　｡.｡:+*

Regret.

(replaced!m/c au)

A/N: Credits to @azlrse for the drabble she made! It's addicting af 💃🕺 Repost because Tumblr ruined it for me 😭 No specific pronouns are used ♡

TW: Angst, M/C breaks down, crying-

Fandom: Obey me!

Please refer to my masterlist to see the rest of my works <3

Their eyes widen as they see you, the same M/C they knew and loved all those years ago, in that very office.

Your glare was self-explanatory, you clearly didn't want them here.

Not after what they did.

"M-M/C.." Mammon happens to stutter out, making you clear your throat.

"Did you need something? I'm kind of busy as of the moment." You say in a low voice, crossing your arms.

The second eldest lowered his head in shame, along with the rest of his brothers. Lucifer stepped closer to your desk.

From the way he looks at you, he's clearly asking for a chance to speak.

"Diavolo is hosting another exchange program. He's selected different students from all three realms to participa--" He explains, until you hold your hand up as a gesture.

"I know how it works." You say coldly, searching through the files on your desk. "May I ask how much students are being selected this year?"

He hesitates to speak for a while, earning confused looks from some of his brothers. The eldest brother never stopped talking when it came to important manners.

What happened really did affect him after all...

"Unlike last time, we're selecting two students. One of yours seems to be one of them." He continues, "We'll just need your approval and it will be settled."

Grabbing a folder with a single page document, you open it and sigh.

Your own approval would allow your student to join the exchange program in Devildom. Just like you all those years ago.. No, not after that.

Being ignored, hurt, humiliated. All because of one attention-seeking human..You'd hate to see something like that happen to a student of yours.

"Such pathetic demons." You thought.

Setting down the folder, you hold the bridge of your nose before looking up to face the fallen angel.

"If it's no trouble, I'll have to address this with the rest of the student council." Opening one of the drawers beneath your desk, you take out a notepad and start taking notes.

"We'll have a final decision afterwards, but we'll need some time.. I'll need a bit to think of my answer as well." You reply.

Lucifer nods slowly, "Of course." Finishing your notes, you place the notepad down. Looking up at the demons.

"If that's all you need to address with me, you may take your leave. Like I said, I am quite busy." You explain.

When you think they're about to leave, you feel someone grab your shoulder.

"M/C..Please." By that voice and desperate tone, you can tell it's Leviathan. Surprisingly, he talked first. You don't turn your head to face him, however. "We're so sorry."

Beelzebub and Belphegor join in, hesitantly walking towards you. "Please come back to us.." Beel continues, "We miss you.. A lot." Belphie says softly, yawning shortly after.

The second eldest looks at you, his eyes showing sheer guilt. Seems like he also wanted to say sorry, but couldn't bear to say anything.

"M/C dear.. We didn't mean to push you away.." Asmodeus mutters, making Satan sigh. "I don't want to seem foolish, but it's true M/C. We miss you, dearly." He explains.

Lucifer stood behind his brothers, realizing how much a mere human meant to not only him, but to the everyone else.

The human that had the courage to stand up to him, the human who brought them together again, the human who loved him for who he was.

He pushed that all away.

It was silent, until you let out a shaky sigh and a single tear rolled down your cheek. Looking back at them, you softly held Levi's hand and lifted it off your shoulder.

"I'm sorry, but I don't address to anything that isn't related with the duties of student council or the council themselves." You reply bluntly. "Now, if you truly have no other concerns, kindly leave my office."

Their hearts shattered into pieces.

"M-M/C..P-please--" Mammon exclaims before his wrist is grabbed by Lucifer. "Mammon. It's time to take our leave." He explains. A slight sound is heard, meaning something probably fell on the floor. But that didn't matter to the avatar of greed at the moment.

Mammon's eyes are wide, but he understands that there's nothing he can do. His brothers look down, some even starting to cry.

You look back at them one more time as they walk out, until the door closes shut.

More tears start falling from your eyes, and eventually you're full-on crying. You sob quietly, hoping that no one hears.

All those memories you've spent with them, all those comforting times.. Gone.

You'd give anything to be in their embrace, to hear their comforting voice, to feel their heart beat close to yours just like before.

You truly miss them, but after what they've done, is it worth missing them?

. . . ♡ . . .

Mammon reaches into his pockets as he walks down the hall, reaching for a trinket you'd given him after you'd both become friends. However, he doesn't feel anything.

"No, no.." He mutters, before checking the rest of his pockets. "I-it's gotta be here!" The demon exclaims.

"What's wrong, Mammon?" Satan asks, seeing his brother panic. "The 'lil thing M/C gave me.. It's gone! I-I remember bringing it here though..!" Levi looks at his brother, "Maybe you dropped it, or it fell.. In M/C's office..?!" He asks.

"I can't go in there.. Not after that.." The second eldest says quietly, before his older brother interrupts him. "5 minutes, Mammon. Find that trinket of yours or else we're leaving you here."

Lucifer states, making his brother run back to your office. "God damn it..! Why the hell is he giving me a time limit..?!" He asks himself.

Stopping at your door, he thinks to knock, until he hears sniffling. "Huh, what in Diavolo is that sound.." He thinks to himself, curiosity making him peek through the door.

His eyes widen as he sees your small frame, kneeling on the ground in tears. Your gentle sobs fill the room, making him wince as if he felt the pain you were going through.

"M-M/C.." He thinks, guilt washing over him again. Seeing the trinket he was looking for, he quickly grabs it (putting it in the pocket of his jacket) before taking one last look at you.

"I'm so sorry, M/C..I promise ya I'll make things right..."

Running back down the hall, the white-haired boy looked down in shame.

"What happened, Mammon?" Beel asks, curiosity in his voice. Belphie yawns, "..Just tell us already."

The second oldest takes the trinket out of his pocket, making Asmo exclaim. "Oh! You found that little trinket of yours, I have to admit it does look pretty cute." He says, gushing over the item.

"What did you expect, M/C does have good tast-" Levi replies, cutting off his own words. The brothers all stay silent at the mention of your name.

Mammon looks over to the trinket in his hands, and holds it tightly before looking at his brothers.

"Guys, we should've never ignored M/C.."

His brothers' eyes widen in surprise. "W-what happened?.." Asmo asks. "..They cried." Mammon manages to stutter.

Silence takes place once again, however this is cut off by the sound of sprinting. One specific brother runs over to your office, and they don't hesitate to barge in.

Who'll that brother be, dear reader?

*+:｡.｡　｡.｡:+*

I hope this was fine enough to read 💀 I struggle writing stuff like this so it is a bit rusty 😅

But I have to say, I'm impressed for making myself cry 😭 Nonetheless I really enjoyed writing this!!

Again, credits to @azlrse for the drabble this is based on! I really like it, no doubt it'll be stuck in my brain forever 🙌

If there's any tips or errors you'd like to tell me, don't hesitate to mention them to me! <3

Likes and reblogs are deeply appreciated!! 🥺💜

#obey me #obey me x reader #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #angsty angst >:) #shsjshsj this failed so many times :") #likes and reblogs are deeply appreciated bc tumblr flunked this for me <3

[alykatsevents]

I saw your match-ups open and I had to try because I think I know who i'd be matched with, but its interesting to see if other people see the same- But also doing multiple cause i'm curious

Could I get a romantic Male match-up, for Hazbin Hotel, Helluva Boss, and FNAF?

I'm Genderfluid (leaning heavy masc and non-binary), 20+, Panromantic and Pansexual. I've got a mullet hair style, brown with some pink dye tips, blue eyes, about 5"8 who tends to wear platformed boots. I tend to wear alt / rock / punk style clothing, lots of silver chain jewellery. I have an Australian accent.

I game a lot, play guitar, drink too many energy drinks, and am fairly silent in real life. I'm the designated driver and father friend in my social circle, the person they call if they are out drinking and need to leave. Scary dog privilege haha. I'm really social if i'm comfortable with someone but will usually let others do the majority of the talking. The king of resting bitch faces. I am very much someone who doesn't take shit from anyone.

I have ADHD, constantly moving and fidgeting, get bored easy. I like modern and old rock music but have a soft spot for soft indie music.

Hope that's enough! Excited to see how you pair me up :)

I match you with....

(Hazbin Hotel) Adam

~Okay for this one I had to get help from @veethewriter so big thanks to them, Now lets get started to the actual stuff:

~Wont say it, But thinks your style is cool as fuck

~He tried your energy drink once and now he's addicted to it

~You kinda scare him, again, he won't say it

~You're taller than him in platform boots and he hates it but secretly thinks it's hot

~He tried on your boots once but he fell

I match you with...

(Helluva boss) Stolas

~He LOVES your jewelry

~He thinks your accent is hot and will make it known that he thinks that

~He likes listening to you play guitar

~While he's really like, flirtatious and horny, he's also a big romantic

~He'll see your resting bitch face and think your pissed off or something

~He adores your music taste

~Loves showing you off if you're comfortable with it

I match you with....

(FNAF)Bonnie

(Lmao how I do a write a robot)

~Doesnt talk at all, even if this is a human au, Mute. Uses a notepad

~For a robot he's surprisingly quiet, Be prepared for that

~Hes a fellow father friend lmao

~Steals your guitar and plays it

~His music tastes consists of just, music played at the pizzeria

#alykat's matchups #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel matchup #hazbin hote matchups #hazbin hotel adam #Helluva boss #Helluva boss matchup #Helluva boss matchups #Helluva boss Stolas #Fnaf #five nights at freddy's #fnaf bonnie #fnaf matchup #fnaf matchups

[aviculor]

It’s time to sit down for Beau Is Afraid. I already know it’s a very different experience than Hereditary or Midsommar, but I trust Ari Aster’s creative vision. I just wish his visions weren't always 3 hours long.

Right off the bat, I can tell we're seeing reality through Beau's perception as someone with severe anxiety. His therapist writes "guilty" on his notepad, the youths are gathered around on their phones because they're egging a man into suicide, and the streets are populated by drug addicts and violent criminals even in broad daylight. It's all a visual representation. You see, his neighbors aren't actually sliding notes under his door, he's just worried they might think he's the one blasting music at 1 am.

Alright, people are hanging dong and someone died with their face getting destroyed beyond recognition. This is an Ari Aster film after all. I'm just surprised the carnage was offscreen.

#horror #beau is afraid