CW: Titty fucking, large breasts, Adam being adam, oral, cum shots, facial Summary: Adam and his new, large breasted lover have been fucking like rabbits but you're tired and sore. Adam though, in love with your curves will gladly take the chance to lavish your chest with some affection.
The Original Dick
CW: Rough blowjob, semi public blowjob, m receiving oral, stalking, reader is a bit craycray
Summary: After repeated encounters with Adam at work, through the hole, you have no choice but to follow him in hopes of finding an organic way to meet again. When you're less of a skilled stalker than you thought, you're faced with the repercussions of your actions. (Follow up to crash landings)
Crash Landings
CW: Rough sex, Dub con, sex pollen, degradation, pussy slapping, fingering, compromised ability to consent
Summary: After taking damage to his wings, Adam has no choice but to make an emergency landing in a clearing of purple flowers, unaware of the unique flora of hell. While he waits for his flight feathers to regrow, he's met with some rather unexpected side effects of exposure to Hyperrigidus Purpureus pollen. His luck this extermination had been shit but when a pretty little demoness all but trips over him, he is pretty sure his luck was about to change.
Satin Ribbons
CW: Smut, Adam typical degradation
Summary: It was once a year that you got to see your angelic lover. A romantic, or perhaps just sexual, tryst you waited all year for. This year, you dressed yourself in something you hoped Adam would think about all year long. (AU follow up to Crash Landings)
Fallen For Glory (Sinner!Adam)
CW: Glory holes, sex work, Oral (M receiving), fem masterbation
Summary: Seven months after your fated encounter with the First man, you struggled to get him off your mind. Even after a unexpected failed early extermination and the broadcasted slaying of Adam on the battlefield, you couldn't get him off your mind as rumors of him being reborn, sentenced to hell himself made it impossible for you to let go.
And then, sitting in the both of the shitty glory hole joint Valentino ran, you heard his voice once again. Rumors were true. Adam lived and your obsession was fueled by nothing more than the taste o
Caught In The Act (Lucifer x Vox x Adam x Alastor x FReader)
CW: dub con, group sex, multiple orgasms, noncon recording, anal, rough oral, BDSM, restraint, DP, f receiving oral, cheating
Summary: You get caught with Adam by your other lovers, sending your carefully constructed house of cards tumbling down. While your lovers are all angry, they're have a surprising way they wish to handle the situation
Wrong Plug
Summary: You had a simple request for Adam- All you wanted for Christmas was a new charger plug for your tablet. It was a small, simple request, something well within his powers even with the household's limited financial budget. When he fails to even get that right, you have a gift of your own to fill his Christmas stocking... (Guest starring Vexi's BLT sandwich)
CW: Dub con, strap on, unprepped anal sex, vibrator, dildo, angry spouse, hand jobs, Anal as punishment
Rock Kisses
Summary: Adam threw a New Year's Eve party that was legendary. He stood on the stage and put on a once a year show where he lived his rock star dreams. Every year, he brought someone on stage to welcome the New Year in the spotlight with him.
Fireworks Adam x REaDer
AN: Guest Starring Kot aka Reader from @redvexillum's FoxDicker fics! This is a continuation of Stalked Adam, though prior fics are not required reading, nor is FoxDicker. Crash Landings -> Casting Call -> Fallen For Glory
Summary: After swearing you would give up your obsession over Adam, you run into him and his new girl at the fair. One thing leads to another and you're waiting to see if he'll show up in the alley behind the fairgrounds.
CW: cheating, voyeurism, public sex, m receiving oral, references to sex working, Cream pie, double cream pie, bathroom sex, alley sex, alley blow job. Adam x Kot smut. Adam x Reader smut.
@crackrodent I really am using your requests as tribute for my Kinktober/Flufftober, lol. This is my very first Adam ask and I'm sorry, I can't kill Adam! You know how much I love Adam! That's it *rolls up sleeves* imma show you what happens when you mess with the d1ckm@ster! Rawr! 😈
Special thanks to @redfoxwritesstuff for being my muse for this story. Bless you. I had way too much fucking fun writing this. 💖
TAGS/WARNINGS: f!reader, reader is fox demon for plot, sinner!adam, d☆ggy style, reader has a potty mouth, adam is the dickmaster, an☆l play, sp☆nking, hair pulling, multiple ☆rgasm (f!receiving), sq☆irting, rough s☆x, bl☆w job, big d☆ck adam, dom/sub undertone, so much f☆cking banter istg please shut up, adam being adam, adam figuratively sucking his own dick, toxic masculinity just oozes out of adam but the sex is hot af tho, adam is kind of a loveable idiot (?), I really went overboard here...sry kit (but not rly ayyy 🤣), CRUFTTY (crack + fluff + smut)
Building a sandwich was fucking art.
The bread had to be perfect – moist and soft, but not so soft that it turned into a soggy mess under the weight of the toppings. It needed strength to hold everything together, to create a flawless bite.
Every ingredient was handpicked by yours truly, each one deserving its place. The crispness of the lettuce, the savoury crunch of bacon, and the creamy balance of mayonnaise all had to align just right. Too much of anything, and the delicate flavour of harmony would soon collapse into a desolate heap of failure.
It was your first day at “Hazbin Hotel,” a place with the dumbest fucking name you’d ever heard. Redemption, they called it. A program to save sinners, to help them earn their way to heaven. So far, all you’d seen was a ragtag crew of lunatics who wouldn’t have spent five minutes together unless they had their own selfish reasons for being here.
Not that you gave a damn. You were here for one thing: free rent and free food. Your pointy ears twitched at the sound of manic laughter echoing through the halls. Niffty? Swifty? Whatever the hell her name was, you didn’t care enough to remember.
All that mattered right now was your sandwich.
Your orange tail, fluffy and tipped in black, swayed behind you as you worked with precision. The smell of freshly fried bacon lingered in the air, and a satisfied shiver ran down your spine. You squinted, eyeing the perfect amount of mayonnaise that dropped onto the bread with a soft plop. A sense of pride bloomed in your chest as you spread it evenly, knowing this was going to be the best fucking sandwich you’d ever made since coming down to Hell.
Your lips stretched into a grin as you placed the final slice of bread on top, your tail flicking back and forth in anticipation.
This was it.
Perfection.
Nothing could ruin this beautiful moment.
Until, of course, all hell broke loose.
As you stepped into the lobby, plate in hand, you barely had time to process the chaos before you. Your feet skidded to a halt, and you almost dropped your sandwich. The sandwich you would’ve committed six counts of murder for.
“Holy shit!” you yelped, barely saving the plate from tumbling.
There, right in front of you, was Niffty – or Swifty – going full psycho mode, cackling like a maniac as she repeatedly stabbed the newest guest. The guy was on the floor, writhing in agony, while Niffty giggled like it was the funniest thing in the world. “DIE! DIE! DIE! HAHAHA!” she screamed, her voice high-pitched and sharp.
The blood splattered in bright red streaks as her tiny form hovered over him, the blade of her dagger glistening with every wild thrust. You watched, half in horror, half in disbelief, as she continued her assault with a grin that could only belong to someone completely unhinged.
It wasn’t until Charlie – or was it Marley? - rushed in, shouting and waving her arms, that the scene started to settle. “Niffty, stop!” she yelled, scooping up the small, crazed girl with a panicked gasp. The dagger slipped from Niffty’s hand, clattering to the ground, blood still dripping from its blade.
Huh. So, the girl’s name was Niffty.
Noted.
You picked up your sandwich, sinking your teeth into it, and damn near moaned right there in the lobby. The crisp, salty bacon mingled with the fresh crunch of lettuce, all balanced perfectly with the smooth creaminess of mayo. The bread was just the right kind of soft, with a subtle sweetness that tied everything together. It was like biting into a small piece of fucking heaven, even if you were in literal hell.
“Oh, fuck,” came a groan from the man on the floor, interrupting your moment of sandwich bliss. The shitty guy who’d just been stabbed was slowly getting to his feet, looking dazed. “What the fuck!” he whined, wincing as he touched his back, his fingers now slick with blood. “That fucking hurts, like, real bad!”
You rolled your eyes. Drama queen. This was hell, he was going to regenerate in a couple of minutes anyhow. You looked at him, and you almost dropped your sandwich, again.
This guy.
This fucking guy.
Why was this fucking guy here, of all places?
Marley – no, Charlie, fuck, whatever – chuckled sheepishly. “Sorry about that,” she said, flashing a nervous grin. “I, uh, forgot to tell Niffty that you’re not a bad guy anymore and at least she didn’t stab you with Angelic Steel!” she smiled way too brightly, as if that would somehow smooth things over.
The man groaned again, straightening up with an exaggerated wince. “Ugh, I was never a bad guy,” he huffed, raising his hands in a condescending little air-quote gesture. “I was chosen and ordained by the big man upstairs to do what was right.” His nose shot up in the air like he thought he was some hot shit, and he crossed his arms with the kind of arrogance that made you want to punch him in the throat.
You didn’t give two shits about the conversation. Hell, it was taking every ounce of self-control not to rip his trachea out right then and there. Of all the scum in hell, this asshole was the worst.
Before the hotel, you’d made the horrible mistake of matching with him on Vinder, thinking maybe you could enjoy a no-strings-attached fling.
Big fucking mistake.
Your eyes twitched at the flood of memories. His obnoxious, open-mouth chewing. His laugh – raucous, loud, and so fucking embarrassing in public. And the way he’d slapped your ass during the first date like he fucking owned you.
Chauvinistic.
Pig.
Every fibre of your being hated him.
Well, almost everything.
Your fingers tightened around the plate; the half-eaten sandwich forgotten. You hated him with a passion, but you couldn’t deny one thing: he had a huge cock. And, fuck, he knew how to use it. No matter how many times you swore it would be the last time; you kept crawling back, falling into the same damn cycle.
One more fuck turned into two, then three, then how the hell did this happen again?
You were a goddamn addict – specifically, addicted to his dick. If you could slap a paper bag over his head, tie him up, and just ride him without hearing his obnoxious voice, that would be ideal. But you had no fucking self-control, and now here you were, in this weird-ass hotel,probably a cult at this point, hoping for a clean break.
Adam – fucking Adam – caught your eye. His lips curled into a wide grin, teeth flashing like he’d just found a new toy. His red eyes sparkled in the dim light as he swaggered toward you, arms wide open. “Sugartits!” he called out, his voice like nails on a chalkboard. He moved in for a hug.
You ducked under his arm, shooting him the nastiest scowl you could muster. Your ears flattened against your head, tail dropping between your legs in a stiff, unamused twitch.
“You two know each other?” Marley – Charlie – whoever, asked, looking between you both with a raised brow and growing curiosity.
“No,” you said curtly, biting into your sandwich again with more aggression than necessary.
Adam, of course, couldn’t resist. “Oh, you could say I know her very well,” he said with a shit-eating grin, waggling his eyebrows like an idiot.
“Ew,” Marley muttered, grimacing without even trying to hide her disgust.
You groaned inwardly. Of all the fucking people in hell, why did it have to be him?
Before you could even form a word, Adam’s fingers wiggled playfully, his lips curling into an “O” as he honed in on your sandwich like a predator eyeing its prey. “Aww, babe, you shouldn’t have!” he exclaimed, snatching up the sandwich you had poured your soul into for the last thirty minutes.
“Wha-Wait-” you sputtered, horrified, as he stuffed the sandwich into his mouth in two massive bites, crumbs tumbling from his lips without a single ounce of grace.
“Oh, hmm,” he chewed noisily, his cheeks bulging with food as he smacked his lips obnoxiously. “Ya know, I think you-” smack, smack, smack – his disgusting chewing noises clashing with the image of your sandwich being annihilated. “You may have put too much mayonnaise,” he continued, crumbs flying as he spoke with his mouth open. “So, I’d give it a 4 out of 10.”
The low, primal growl that erupted from your throat felt volcanic, like every ounce of rage you’d bottled up over the miserable dates and hollow excuses was bubbling to the surface.
You were fucking done.
Every humiliating dinner where he’d “forgotten” his wallet, every time you’d fucked him to deal with your frustration with him – it all flashed through your mind in an explosive torrent. Without thinking, you grabbed his collar and yanked him down to your level.
“We need to fucking talk,” you growled, teeth clenched, venom practically dripping from your words.
Dragging him towards your room, your eyes narrowed in disgust as Adam shot a wink at Marley, fingers raised in an unmistakable gesture for “fucking.” Of course, he thought this was just some sort of game.
No amount of good dick would make you compromise on your self-respect–-
And yet, here you were, kneeling naked in your room, your mouth wrapped around his thick cock, the taste of him flooding your senses. The worst part? You didn’t even remember how the hell you got here.
“Oh fuck, you missed my cock, didn’t you babe?” Adam groaned; his voice thick with smug satisfaction. His hand gripped the base of his cock while his other fingers curled into your hair, tugging hard enough to make you gasp. “Open that pretty little mouth for me. Say your prayers like the good girl you are,” he crooned, his voice dripping with arrogance.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
You hated him. You hated how he could still make you fall to your knees with just a look. One second, you’d been screaming at him, ready to shove a 21-inch dildo up his ass, and the next, he had his cock out, and there you were – sucking him off like nothing had changed.
Fuck.
Your lips stretched painfully around his girth as he pushed deeper into your mouth, groaning as your warmth engulfed him. His soft, pudgy stomach pressed against your forehead as he shoved his fat cock all the way to the hilt. Your throat tightened around him, gagging slightly, but the reaction only made your pussy throb with need. The taste of him was heady, familiar, and it brought back memories of the way he could fuck you into oblivion, no matter how much you hated him.
“That’s it, babe, suck it nice and deep,” Adam grunted, his hips thrusting forward as he buried himself deeper in your throat. “Bet you fucking missed this cock, huh? It’s been too long since you had a real man inside you.”
You rolled your eyes, choking back the desire to tell him to shut the fuck up. If he would just be quiet for one goddamn second, you’d probably cum just from sucking his cock alone. But no, he always had to run his mouth.
Then, his foot pressed firmly between your legs, the top of it rubbing directly against your slick pussy. Your breath hitched as his smug grin stretched wider, his eyes locking onto yours. “Go on, babe,” he taunted, his voice low and teasing. “I want to see you hump like the needy slut you are. Show me how much you fucking need it.”
The words should’ve made you furious, but instead, they sent a shudder of arousal through your body. Your hips moved on their own, grinding down against his foot, your wetness soaking his skin as you rode him like you were desperate for release.
You should hate this. You should hate him.
You do hate him.
But goddammit, you don’t hate this.
“Mmph,” you moaned around his cock, your voice muffled by the thick shaft filling your throat. Your hips bucked wildly against his foot, the pressure building inside you faster than you’d like to admit. The musky taste of his pre-cum sliding down your throat made your whole-body clench in anticipation, bringing you dangerously close to the edge.
“That’s right, sugartits,” Adam groaned, his voice thick with satisfaction. “Look how good you are, sucking my big, fat cock.” The grin on his face was full of smug pride, and you could practically see the self-satisfaction swelling in his chest.
The words “fuck you” echoed in your mind, but the moment his foot sped up, rubbing your clit in rapid strokes, your defiance crumbled beneath the weight of pure pleasure. The sharp edge of it cut through you, sending heat spreading like wildfire as your body tensed. Then, the first orgasm ripped through you, crashing like a wave and leaving your nerves buzzing in its wake.
A muffled moan escaped around his cock, your spit trailing down your chin, your eyes rolling back in your head as your hands dug into his thighs for support. Fuck, it felt good. Fuck, it’s been too long.
Adam pulled his cock free with a wet pop, and you barely had time to catch your breath before your legs trembled, the aftershocks still rippling through you.
But just as you started to get your bearings, the world spun as he flipped you upside down, blood rushing to your head, disorienting you. His cock was right in your face again, and your brain struggled to catch up.
“Wh-what the fuck are you doing?” you screeched, grabbing onto his bare hip for balance, your legs flailing helplessly in the air like a fish out of water.
“Relax, babe. I’m going to eat you out,” he said simply, his breath hot against your dripping folds. He didn’t wait for your reply. “Now, shut up. Either suck my cock or wait your turn like a good girl for your second orgasm.” The condescension in his voice made you want to punch him.
“Fuck you,” you spat, but your words were cut short as Adam ground his cock against your cheek, the heat of him searing into your skin.
“You’re not that – ah – ah – fuck!” The insult died in your throat as your knees buckled, legs trembling with the sudden rush of pleasure. His tongue was already working between your folds, lapping at your wetness with obscene slurping sounds, like he was a dog drinking from a fountain.
“Oh fuck, I’ve had better, you know,” you gasped, but even as you said it, your vision blurred from the lightheadedness, the blood pooling in your head making you dizzy. Your words rang hollow.
Adam didn’t respond with words. Instead, he shoved his thick tongue deeper inside you, practically fucking your pussy with it. The roughness of his beard brushed against your sensitive clit, sending shockwaves through your body that had you trembling.
“Fuck...fuck...” you whined, unable to stop the involuntary moans spilling from your lips. Your hand instinctively found his cock, pumping it with desperate need. You fucking jackass. You hated how his scent, his cock, his fucking presencehad this kind of power over you. The desire to ride him until you couldn’t walk for days burned in your gut.
You hated everything about him – his cocky attitude, his smug grin, his fucking voice.
But fuck, his cock? His cock almost made up for it. Almost.
With a loud curse, as his mouth latched onto your swollen clit and sucked with relentless abandon, you felt yourself losing control. Your mouth opened wide, taking him back inside, your head bobbing back and forth as he fucked your mouth in rhythm with his tongue devouring you.
The pressure from hanging upside down added to the dizzying pleasure, the blood rushing to your head making you lightheaded, while the taste of him hit your tongue. You needed both hands to grip his cock, stroking it harder, faster, desperate for his release – desperate for something to satisfy the ache growing inside you. Every orgasm he gave you left you unsatisfied because you knew the only thing that could truly wreck you was him fucking you senseless.
As he always did.
Your stomach clenched tight, thighs shaking as Adam moaned into your cunt, the vibration sending shivers of delight through you. His nose nudged against the base of your folds, his breath hot and heavy. “You gonna cum again, bitch?” he growled, his voice muffled, but the meaning was clear. The vibration of his words only pushed you closer to the edge.
You hated how right he was. Fuck, you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of making you cum again. You wanted to prove he wasn’t that good, that he didn’t know your body inside and out, that he couldn’t make you sing like a fucking instrument in his hands.
But it was like he could read your mind, taking your challenge as an invitation. He bucked his hips, pistoning into your mouth harder, while his lips and tongue attacked your clit with reckless fervour. Saliva dripped from your mouth, your face flushed and wet with the effort of keeping up with his pace.
It was only a matter of time. Your body betrayed you, your ass clenched, your legs spread wider, and with one last pulse of his tongue against your sensitive nub, you exploded. Another orgasm hit you, more intense than the last, your muffled cries of release vibrating around his cock as your body shook in his grasp.
Tears blurred your vision, streaming down your face as waves of pleasure coursed through your body, leaving you breathless. The world spun once more as Adam laid you down, your back hitting the mattress with a soft thud.
Your chest heaved, breath ragged, and your left leg twitched with the aftershocks pulsing through your still-throbbing core. The only sounds were your gasps and his own laboured breathing, tangled together in the humid air.
Through bleary, tear-filled eyes, you glared up at him. “Fuck you,” you managed to spit out between shaky breaths.
Adam, ever the cocky bastard, stroked his cock, slick with your spit, his hand gliding smoothly along his length. “Babe, that’s exactly what I’m about to do.” His smirk was infuriating, and all you could think about was shoving his face between your legs, smothering him with your pussy until he couldn’t talk anymore. God, you wanted to suffocate him with it. Death by cunt? Sign me the fuck-up.
Why did he have to be such a colossal dick? The thought barely crossed your mind before his knees sank into the mattress, the bed groaning under his weight.
“It you didn’t - hah – talk so much, you’d almost be tolerable,” you shot back, each word laced with venom.
He burst out into bright laughter. “Tolerable? Baby, the way you worship my cock, you’re practically my most devout follower.” His sharp grin caught the dim light, and you couldn’t help the eye-roll that followed.
“Holy fuck, you’re the biggest douchebag I know, I can’t even – ah!” Your words turned into a yelp as he slammed his hips against yours, burying himself deep inside you, aided by the slick remnants of your previous orgasms and his saliva.
“Feel that?” he huffed, rolling his hips against your oversensitive clit, his voice dripping with smugness. “Look how fucking needy you are, bitch,” his grin widened as he looked down at you, eyes gleaming. “How many other cocks have tried to fill you since me? Any of them as good?” His hips slammed into yours, the wet, filthy sound of skin meeting skin filling the room.
“Tell me, huh? Bet none of them could do this.” He pulled out, teasing you, before driving his cock back in, deeper, harder, the tip nudging against your cervix.
“FUCK!” you screamed, legs instinctively spreading wider, your body arcing up to meet his. “You’re - ugh – such – a – fucking – ugh – ASS!” Each word was broken by the force of his persistent thrusts, the bed beneath you creaking in rhythm with his movements. It was like the damn thing was protesting as loudly as you were.
“Good?” he smirked, filling in the blanks for you with every thrust. “Sexy? Amazing? Fantastic?” His pace quickened, clearly getting off on his own damn ego. If there was one thing he’d come from, it was the sound of his own bullshit.
“All - ugh – you're good for – is your dick,” you growled, strands of hair sticking to your sweaty face, your skin slick with the sheen of your effort. You hated him, hated how smug he was, how cocky – and fuck, how right he was about how good his cock felt.
Adam pulled out, his cock rock-hard and glistening with your arousal clinging to him. He gripped your hips and flipped you onto your stomach, pulling your ass up and pressing your face into the mattress.
Your heart skipped. This was the position that always wrecked you. Every. Single. Time.
“That’s why,” he lined up, the blunt tip of his cock teasing your entrance, “they call me the Dickmaster.” He punctuated his words by thrusting into you in one fluid stroke, filling you completely, pushing deep until he hit your womb. Your back arched as a shameless moan tore from your lips, your body curling from the overwhelming fullness.
“FUCK.” You nearly screamed. “Dickmaster? Are you fucking serious?” But despite the sheer cringe of the nickname, your body betrayed you. You moaned, louder, longer, as he thrust into you. The pleasure mixed with the sheer absurdity of it all.
He was so fucking cheesy. The cringiest man alive. Dickmaster? More like Cringemaster. And yet, here you were, being dicked down by this walking embarrassment, moaning like a bitch in heat. The passion you felt for him, the anger, the lust – it all mixed into a chaotic storm, burning hot inside you.
“Fuuuck youuu,” you wailed, voice trembling as Adam’s hips resumed their brutal, punishing rhythm. Each thrust sent shockwaves through your body, his hand coming down hard on your ass, the crack of skin-on-skin only fuelling the fire that was already burning through you.
“Oh fuck, fuck, fuck, I’m gonna fucking kill you,” you sobbed, the sting from each slap merging with the pleasure, searing through your core as the heat radiated across your skin. You were sure his handprint was branded on your ass, marking you as his.
The pleasure built and built, his heavy balls slapping mercilessly against your clit with each thrust. It was overwhelming, your body trembling in a puddle of your own arousal, tears, and drool.
Why did you keep coming back to him? Out of all the sinners you could fuck, you always crawled back to him for a taste of that damn dick.
“Oh fuck, fuck, fuck,” you chanted mindlessly, your cunt squeezing tight around him as another orgasm threatened to break loose. But just when you were on the edge, he reached for your tail and yanked. Hard.
“YIP!” you screeched, the sharp, high-pitched squeal erupting from your throat as the flames of your arousal were doused instantly. You whipped your head around, glaring at him over your shoulder. “WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK, YOU FUCKING IDIOT!” you barked, though the effect was somewhat ruined by the fact that you were on all fours, impaled on his cock with your ass still up in the air.
Adam’s eyes widened, his expression morphing from confusion to realization. “Oh shit, so that wasn’t your butt plug?” he asked, cock still buried deep inside you, pulsing against your fluttering walls that betrayed the fury burning inside you.
“WE’VE BEEN FUCKING FOR OVER HALF A YEAR, YOU ASSHOLE,” you snapped, baring your teeth in a snarl. “YOU EVEN FUCKED MY ASS! WHAT MAKES YOU THINK I’D BE WEARING A BUTT PLUG NOW?”
He raised his hands in mock surrender, but his hips didn’t stop rocking gently into you, sending shivers up your spine despite your anger. “Babe, it was an honest mistake,” he said before licking his fingers and sliding one thick digit down, pressing against your ass. “Let me make it up to you.”
Before you could protest, his finger was already pushing past the tight ring of muscle, sinking into your ass as your tail stiffened in response. “Oh, fuck,” you groaned, your resolve crumbling as the pleasure returned full force. His finger curled just right, rubbing the thin wall separating your pussy from your ass, sending jolts of ecstasy through both holes.
“Remember when I took your anal virginity?” Adam’s voice was smug, but the curl of his finger had you moaning instead of cursing him out. He pumped his finger slowly, in sync with the thrusts of his cock, his breath ragged with excitement. “You told me you hated anal, but look at you now. Begging for more.”
Your head dropped onto the mattress, your tail wagging unconsciously as he added another finger, stretching you wider. You closed your eyes, trying to block out his annoying voice, but your ass wiggled back against him, betraying your need for more. “Fucking hell,” you whimpered, completely undone.
He laughed, the sound deep and rich. “Told you. After I finish with your pussy, I’ll give that ass some love too. They don’t call me the dickmaster for nothing.” His voice was maddening, but the way his fingers curled inside you made you forget how much you wanted to punch him.
Your ears flicked back, frustration mingling with desire. If only he would shut the fuck up, you would’ve come already – twice, even.
“Babe, you want my load that bad?” Adam cooed, his voice breathy as his cock twitched inside you. “You wanna be my cum dump?” he chuckled, fingers and cock working in perfect, relentless tandem.
“Sh-sh-shut up,” you moaned, voice low and trembling as your walls tightened around both his cock and his fingers. You were so close, teetering on the edge.
If he would just stop talking...
He pulled his fingers out of your ass, leaving you gasping at the sudden emptiness. His wet fingers gripped your hips, pulling your ass up higher as he pressed his weight down on you. Then, he started to fuck you hard – exactly the way you liked it – each brutal thrust forcing you down into the bed.
Your breath came in broken gasps, each thrust stealing the words from your lips as his cock filled you completely, forcing your slick walls to stretch for him. The bed creaked and groaned under you, matching the wet slap of skin on skin, the rhythmic pounding filled the room. Your stomach clenched, thighs quivering as you squeezed your eyes shut, knowing you were about to explode.
When his cock hit your g-spot again and again, your moan rose low and long, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave. You babbled incoherently, swearing and pleading for him to fill you.
And he did.
He always fucking did.
Hot, thick spurts of cum flooded your pussy, painting your insides as the pleasure ripped through you, wave after wave. You were wrecked, ruined, and thoroughly fucked – just the way you wanted it.
He pushed your body down, rolling you onto your back and stretching your thighs wide apart like he was prepping a canvas for his masterpiece. The thrill of being exposed sent shivers down your spine, and before you could catch your breath, his lips found your aching, sensitive clit.
His fingers dove into your cum-soaked folds, the squelching sounds echoing in the air, making you feel like a goddamn wet sponge. You were so close to the edge of another orgasm that your muscles quivered with anticipation. Your head tilted back, pressing against the bed, and you gasped as warmth flooded out of you, mingling with Adam’s thick, syrupy load.
“OH FUCK, FUCK!” you cried out, fingers curling tightly against the bedsheets, heels digging into the mattress like you were trying to anchor yourself to sanity. His mouth continued to suck at your oversensitive bud, relentless and teasing, even as you drenched him with your essence.
You peeked open your eyes to find him grinning like a kid in a candy store, his face glistening with your juices, and it sent a fresh wave of heat rushing to your core. The feeling of him latching onto you was intoxicating, pushing you to new heights as your walls pulsated around his fingers, unable to tell whether this was yet another orgasm or simply an extension of the last.
“ADAM!” you screamed, practically sobbing as your body jolted and convulsed under his ministrations. Pleasure poured over you, and your breath came in heavy gasps, your mind slipping into a blissful haze. His fingers curled perfectly inside you, mashing your g-spot like he was playing some twisted game of whack a mole, keeping you suspended in a state of everlasting pleasure.
The last thing you registered before the world faded away was Adam moaning your name, his voice vibrating through your very core like a damn choir.
When you fluttered your eyes open again, your body was still bare and sprawled out like a starfish on the bed. You heard that familiar sound of suckling, and looking down, you couldn’t help but groan at the sight – his familiar mop of brown hair nestled between your thighs, still focused on drinking you up like a man starved for 40 days and 40 nights.
Pleasure washed over you in soft, slow strokes as Adam continued to eat you out. “How long have you been down there?” you asked, voice hoarse from all the screaming and moaning.
His head popped up, lips and chin glistening with your arousal. “Dunno, but they do call me the ultimate pussy eater,” he said with a cheeky grin, like he was the fucking king of the world.
You dropped your head back against the bed, trying to stifle a laugh. “No, they don’t,” you muttered, breath hitching as his tongue parted your slick folds again. “Fuck, we can’t keep doing this,” you whined, instinctively opening your thighs wider to give him better access.
His fingers gripped your hips, anchoring you as his tongue burrowed deeper into your pussy, pressing against your inner walls, exploring every inch like he was on some treasure hunt.
Naturally, he didn’t listen to your protests. He continued to slurp and lick, devouring you like a feast, and you should have stopped him.
You really should have.
But as a jolt of pleasure shot up your spine, tingling all the way to your core, a soft, breathy moan escaped your lips.
Fuck, this was bad. You had come to the hotel knowing you had little self-control around him, and at this rate, you were destined to fuck him every day.
Your body, soft and pliant, refused to budge; instead, you pushed your hips deeper into his mouth. “Fuck you,” you murmured weakly, as he coaxed another sultry moan from your lips. “This will be the last fucking time, I swear,” you insisted, squeezing your eyes shut as he pushed you closer to the edge of pleasure.
But deep down, you knew you had said it was the last time so many fucking times that you’d lost count of your own vows.
You hated him, yes.
But fuck him and fuck yourself.
You didn’t hate this.
Follow #vexitober 2024 to read my questionable kink/fluff stories!
In the hallowed space where human souls were molded, Seraphim Sera worked beside the successor of Lucifer in the celestial sanctum dedicated to new life.
Though Emily had grown adept at forming souls over the eons, she still found herself studying Sera's technique with curiosity and deference.
This time, however, she noticed an unusual stillness in Sera. There was a hint of sorrow in her—deeper than any Emily had seen before.
The state of humanity weighed heavily on Sera's heart. It was something even the sacrifice of Jesus had not remedied.
Where she had hoped to see more unity and compassion, humanity continued to stumble.
Devoted to creation and guidance and yet here she was: moved to a grief that seemed to reach even her divine powers.
Without Sera's knowledge that sorrow imprinted itself on the soul she was forming.
As her fingertips hovered over the amorphous light, her unspoken worries and heartache transformed it, seeping into the essence she shaped.
You were different from the start—a rare blend of purity and compassion, a hope born from despair.
No other soul had quite the same resonance as yours. It was as if each fragment of light carried Sera's lingering wish for humanity's redemption.
Emily remained silent as she observed. For all the thousands of souls she had seen, none had been like this. She could sense Sera's guarded admiration as well.
Though Sera (ever the professional) did not show overt favoritism, there was a lingering gaze—a brief stillness, every time her eyes fell upon you.
And then, just as quickly, she'd retreat to her disciplined demeanor as though she could not allow herself the luxury of attachment.
Once your formation was complete, you were sent to Earth with no knowledge of the watchful presence behind your existence.
From the beginning the world proved to be harsh and unforgiving.
Abandoned as a child and abused by those who should have protected you, you were thrust into a life of struggle.
And yet in spite of it all no bitterness clouded your heart nor did hatred take root; instead you grew wise to life's difficulties, meeting each day with a kindness that was resolute.
Each act of goodwill, every kindness you extended, seemed to spark a subtle ripple effect—something that shaped the lives of others and sent positive changes flowing into places you couldn't see.
Having never grown hard or cynical to life, you were granted angelic ascension upon your death.
Upon your arrival Sera awaited you at the gates, a subtle smile softening her usually serious expression as she guided you to your new position before going off to her own responsibilities.
Life in Heaven felt nearly surreal.
Though the celestial realms were as awe-inspiring as they were vast, you felt a strange pang of loneliness among the hierarchy of angels—most of whom seemed untouched by the hardships you remembered from Earth.
Your days was spent in quiet work under higher-ranking overseers with often yourself as company in the towering halls of Heaven.
That was until you were summoned to Adam's chambers.
You had heard much about him from other angels beyond his legacy as the first man. He was someone who had a commanding presence—sharp wit.
But as you stood before him, despite his evident authority, he exuded an oddly modern charm—a confident, slightly arrogant air that might have been more suited to a CEO than an Archangel.
He looked you up and down, his piercing gaze sizing you up as if deciding whether he could work with you at all.
In those first weeks Adam had made his displeasure known. He rarely missed an opportunity to grumble about the favor he was doing for Sera.
You were a lower-ranking angel after all. And Adam made no secret of his annoyance over this fact. It was shown through your tasks.
They were menial at first: simple records and errand-like duties—which unbeknown to you, was actually ordered to test your resolve rather than develop skills.
He was meticulous and unyielding, a mentor who would not accept anything less than perfection and barely acknowledged your efforts even when they met his exacting standards.
But as the days weeks turned to months there were subtle changes. Sometimes he would sit back and watch you with a look that lingered a bit longer than he intended.
You'd catch him softening in brief moments when he thought you weren't watching with a slight curve of his mouth when you managed something especially well.
And over time his critiques mellowed into an almost playful teasing. The conversations once clipped and formal took on a different tone.
He would linger after giving you a task—recounting stories of the early days of humanity, speaking of his own creation and the burden of his role with a tone that almost resembled confession.
Then one day he invited you to walk with him in the gardens—an invitation that you knew wasn't extended to just anyone.
As you strolled among Heaven's flowering vines and ethereal fountains he casually asked about your Earthly experiences, or as he put it, the "domino effect" Sera mentioned in your file.
You told him of your life as a human and the trials you faced and the choice to meet the world with kindness despite its many hardships.
Then, for the first time ever, a full fledged smile graced his face. Its tenderness filled the stillness around you.
That unspoken bond grew.
Even the other angels began to notice Adam's (in all his aloofness) distinct warmth that was reserved only for you.
He still carried himself with that familiar arrogance and exuded his usual authority, but his eyes softened when you were near.
His usual cutting words now had an underlying fondness that only the two of you fully understood.
You didn’t speak of it—didn’t dare name it. But when you were alone there was an undeniable closeness.
It went beyond his usual dismissive flirtations or occasional compliments. His hand would linger on yours a moment too long, his touch warm and grounding as he guided you through the grand halls.
You still felt the guarded edges around him even as he allowed this closeness. Almost as if he were keeping a part of himself hidden.
Though you yearned to know more, knowing the gentleness Adam has for you was reserved for no one else made up for it.
It seemed ordinary enough—one of those rare quiet days where Heaven’s peace felt genuine and untouched by schemes or whispers of unrest.
You had been looking for Adam, searching the grand halls where he often spent his time in secluded contemplation or strategy.
Upon entering his quarters you stumbled upon a series of records and texts you hadn’t seen before—drawings, schematics, plans filled with the details of an endeavor you could hardly comprehend at first.
Shock locked you in place as your eyes darted over the pages, the full picture beginning to take shape.
Adam was planning to eradicate all of Hell in a brutal purge. His intentions scrawled out plainly with plans to make it a bi-annual devastation.
His motivations seemed focused—almost obsessive: he desire to destroy Lucifer for corrupting both his wives and damning humanity to sin.
The righteousness of it felt sinister in a way that clashed with everything Heaven should represent.
It was the sound of footsteps that pulled you from your horrified trance. You look up, catching Adam’s steely gaze as he entered the room.
He stilled, his eyes narrowing as his lips twist into a brief condescending smile before disappearing just as quick. “Eavesdropping now are we?”
“What...is all of this?” your voice shaky but resolute. There was no hiding your distress nor the raw betrayal evident in your tone.
He watched you carefully, his silence stretched painfully long with each passing second drawing his gaze sharper.
“It’s necessary,” he finally replied, each word precise and calculated. “You of all people should understand that.”
You shook your head with disbelief flashing in your eyes. “Necessary? Adam you’re talking about genocide. A-an endless cycle of destruction! How can you say this is the right thing?”
His expression darkened.
“This is for the greater good. Lucifer’s actions have damned humanity, cast shadows over Heaven itself.” Irritation seeped into his voice. “The world would be purer without his influence infecting it, without Hell festering beneath.”
The certainty in his tone left no room for negotiation and you felt the depth of the chasm between you.
You shook your head, taking a step back. “I can’t be a part of this Adam. I...I won’t.”
He watched you as a flicker of something like disappointment shined in his eyes, though it quickly cooled to an unnerving calm.
“Perhaps you’re just not seeing the full picture,” his voice smoothed as if he were offering comfort. “Meet me at our usual spot. I’ll explain everything. Trust me.”
There was a note of gentleness in his words, a familiar echo of the kindness you’d come to know.
Against the shadow of doubt that churned in your chest, you wanted to believe him. You wanted to think that somehow there was something you’d misunderstood.
And so you went to the place that had become yours over the years—a quiet grove within Heaven’s gardens where the two of you spent your time together.
The serenity of it now felt almost mocking.
As you waited you searched for a sense of reassurance, for the feeling that this was all some awful misunderstanding.
That Adam would arrive, put a hand on your shoulder, and explain everything away.
But instead when Adam appeared, his presence felt cold—almost mechanical. There was no trace of the man who had once softened around you nor a lingering warmth in his gaze.
“Adam...” you began only for your words to die on your lips. He raised his hand, and suddenly you felt an unfamiliar pull.
It was as though gravity itself had turned against you. Your wings flared instinctively, but they were useless against the force drawing you downward.
Realization gripped you as you looked up; this wasn’t an explanation. This was a sentence.
Adam’s face was the last thing you saw before the Fall: a sharp tooth grin stretched across his lips.
He raised his hand in a mock salute, almost playful as if he were bidding farewell to an old friend rather than sending you into damnation.
That look—that chillingly gleeful expression was imprinted itself in your mind; searing a deep wound of betrayal that would never fully heal.
Your voice caught in your throat, eyes wide with disbelief as you fell. He hadn’t wavered. Didn't hesitate.
The one who had been your confidante, who had once looked at you with something like love, has casted you down without so much as a flicker of remorse.
Tears escaped and scattered into the wind around you. Just as Heaven faded from sight, darkness fully enveloped you and your world went black.
.*.·:·.☽✧✧☾.·:·.*
You plummet from Heaven like a comet; a streak of searing light tearing through the thick red skies of Hell.
Your form was enveloped in flames as you crashed down with a force that made the very ground tremble.
The impact was like a small explosion—flames erupting, leaving a crater scorched and steaming as debris scattered for yards around.
Slowly you regained consciousness, faint prickles of pain tingling at the edges of your senses.
Your entire body felt heavy. Every inch of your body throbbed with the reminder that you’d been ̶b̶̶e̶̶t̶̶r̶̶a̶̶y̶̶e̶̶d̶ casted down by the very person you trusted most.
Suddenly, you feel warmth pressing against your cheek. You blink, finding yourself face-to-face with a strange malformed creature—a bird if you could call it that.
It had way too many eyes that blinked in eerie unison with a beak far too sharp as it pecked at your face.
You instinctively swat it away with more force than you intended. The creature squawked in protest before flapping its leathery wings and vanishing into the smoky distance.
Looking around you find yourself lying in the center of a deep crater as steam rose from the ground. For a second your mind struggled to reconcile where you were.
Then realization crept in slowly along with a numb sort of disbelief. Hell. You were in Hell.
As you shifted to sit up, soft murmurs above made you snap your head upwards. There on the edges of the crater stood gathering figures— Hell denizens that drawn to the commotion.
Sinners and demons, the curious and wicked souls damned to this place, they all watched you in curiosity.
That is until they caught sight of the faint remaining glow of your halo and pure white wings.
Their gazes turned alarmed before they scattered away in screeches and shrieks, stumbling and tripping over each other in their desperation to flee in the mistaken belief that your arrival was the start of an unexpected purge.
The silence that followed was almost jarring, leaving you alone in the crater as the echoes of their hurried footsteps faded into the distance.
Your body screamed in protest as you slowly rose to your feet.
You try to open your wings in attempt to take flight, but the moment you flexed them, a searing pain flared down your back making you clamp your wings shut with a wince.
It seems flying wasn't an option right now.
With painstaking effort you hobbled toward the crater’s edge, eyes fixed on the steep walls.
Your teeth grit from the pain when you reach out and grasped a jagged piece of rock jutting from the crater wall.
'Okay,' a grim look of determination cross your face. 'Guess I’ll have to do this the old-fashioned way.'
.*.·:·.☽✧✧☾.·:·.*
With a weak but firm grip you grasped the edge of the crater, using every last ounce of strength to pull yourself up onto the cracked pavement.
A heaving gasp tore from your throat as you collapsed onto solid ground before scooting yourself away from the crater’s edge.
It had taken longer than you’d hoped, but you’d done it. You were out.
Lying back, you let your head fall against the pavement to stare up at the crimson-tinted sky above.
Clouds churned in dark ominous shades of red as a massive pentagram symbol loomed high above—it glowed sinisterly, slicing through the swirling clouds in sharp precise lines.
Hell’s “moon” hung beside it—a twisted scarred orb that looked as though it had been dragged from the depths of something far darker than night.
And even higher in the distance, just barely visible against the hellish skyline, was the faint shimmer of Heaven’s gate. A cruel and unreachable mirage.
You closed your eyes, letting out a long shuddering breath as you try to gather yourself before reluctantly forcing your exhausted body to move once more.
Just as you managed to stand a strange warmth flickered above your head. Your fingers reach up to touch your now sputtering halo.
The steady glow dimmed as it pulsed weakly—and before you could fully process it, the light extinguished altogether.
The once radiant halo fell and clattered to the ground with a hollow metallic ring.
You stared down at the cold dull metal lying lifelessly in the dust. Your legs buckled and you sank to your knees, reaching out with trembling fingers to pick it up.
The weight of it felt foreign now, devoid of the light and comfort it once radiated.
A sad hollow laugh bubbled up from your throat; a weak attempt to mask the sharp ache of loss.
“...and it was such a good reading light to use,” you murmured, voice barely a whisper.
The familiar warmth of Heaven was gone and replaced by an oppressive heat that clung to you as the air around filled with the bitter scent of sulfur.
The betrayal, the Fall, and now your halo—each piece hammered at your heart, leaving you grasping at the edges of your composure as the weight of this new reality pressed in on you.
Fortunately you didn’t have time to dwell on it for long.
“Hello!” A voice cuts through the stillness.
Startled, you look up to see a young girl standing at the edge of the abandoned street, her bright eyes wide with wonder.
She was small, her long blonde hair cascading over her shoulders as she wore a frilly red dress that looked almost too pristine for a place like Hell
She moved before you could process her intentions, darting toward you with surprising speed.
You instinctively opened your arms, catching her as she flinged herself into your embrace with childlike trust.
Her weight was slight with a warmth to her that felt strangely comforting. She nestled against your side, tiny hands exploring your feathers as her eyes sparkled with awe.
“Oh wow!” she squealed, brushing her fingers lightly over the downy feathers of your wings that had unconsciously curled around her as if to shield her from the world. “Your wings are so pretty! They look kinda like my dad’s!”
You blinked, still processing the fact that a child was not only here in Hell but clinging to you like you were an old friend.
Her innocent curiosity and lack of fear threw you off guard. For a moment faint memories of the children you had in your human life resurfaced and a bittersweet warmth filled your chest.
“Who might you be little one?"
The girl looked up at you with a giggle, eyes wide with innocence. "My name's Charlie, Charlie Magne!"
You couldn't help but smile. She reminded you of them in a way—of the tenderness you’d once known.
"And why are you out here alone?” concern was heard in your words. It was dangerous even for a child who clearly belonged here.
“I just wanted to see if it was really an angel causing all the fuss. I overheard my dad talking about it and well...I got curious! So I snuck out and—bam! I found you!” She gave you a triumphant grin as if discovering you were her own special accomplishment.
“Your...dad?” you echo softly causing her to frantically nod.
“Charlotte!” A booming voice calls out sending a shiver down your spine. Charlie looked over her shoulder, her eyes lighting up even more.
“Oh! There he is!” she chirped. Wriggling out of your arms, she hops down and began waving enthusiastically in the direction of the voice. "Over here!”
You quickly got to your feet, bracing yourself as you saw him: Lucifer Morningstar—The King of Hell himself striding down the street with an air of authority.
His softened gaze was locked on Charlie as she ran to him. But the moment she pointed back at you and exclaimed, “Look Daddy! I made a new friend!” his expression shifted.
The smile he’d given her vanished and was replaced by something far darker. In a flash he was in front of you, his crimson eyes piercing through you like twin blades.
You barely blinked before you were slammed to the ground.
The impact stole the air from your lungs, you were left gasping as his weight pressed down on you, a foot planted firmly on your chest.
Charlie's pleads of Daddy stop! seemed distant, almost muffled as you struggled to catch your breath.
'Geez...What s up with this family and tackling?'
Your dry thought is interrupted by the cold bite of metal on your throat. The sharp blade is pressed against the skin of your neck making you give a wide-eye stare up at the man towering over you.
His expression hard and unforgiving with an air of suspicion around him.
Pairings: Reader x Lucifer, Reader x Alastor | Side: Reader x Valentino, Reader x Vox, Reader x Adam
Words: 3.5K
Rating: M
Warnings: Dub-Con, Valentino, Demon Deals - updates as we go
Tags: none (just ask c:)
One |
♡ Masterlist
Each day was more glorious than the last. You had been created and raised in Heaven, living to serve and obey before you could even fly. Loyalty and devotion was all that you knew and all that you needed. It wasn’t until you had been approached one day by the most handsome man you’d ever seen; his messy brown hair and confident grin swept you off your feet before you even had a chance to think twice. HIs golden eyes just met with yours and you felt it in the deepest parts of your soul.
Not that you had complained. You didn’t know who he was right away, he was just this - dare you say - devilishly charming man. He showered you in attention and care day in and out. Everything about him was you - you were the only one he saw, and he made sure you felt that in everything he did. It wasn’t until the two of you had been on a walk in the park one afternoon, hands intertwined, did you finally learn who he really was. It was when you passed another angel who immediately stumbled over their feet to stand and bow to your boyfriend. Saying how honored he was to meet THE first man.
It was safe to say you sat down and had a long talk with him after that. You had not been mad that he had kept that to himself, but you had so many questions to ask him. About his previous wives, his children, humanity! Under all of your burning questions, you were soon to learn that this was about to change the trajectory of your angelic life. You were flattered to have caught his eye, but what happened next was, unbeknownst to you, the beginning of the end.
One day, Adam came home in the best mood you’d ever seen. He had been promoted! He sat you down and explained how his ex wife, Lilith had been trying to empower the demons of hell and the Seraphim had decided it was time to protect heaven - creating a heavenly army of angels to protect them, and he was the captain of this army. He took your hands in his and looked you in the eyes and asked you to join him, to stand by him and help him lead them.
But that was years ago. Since then you’d had been trained to be a deadly killer, something you never once thought you’d have done. All you’d known was the serene and peaceful life of Heaven. Then your eyes had been opened to the sinful and destructive ways of Hell. You had been reluctant at first, but you had been programmed to obey, and you weren’t about to let the love of your life down either. He had entrusted you to help with his project, and you would make him proud.
Now you stood strong, powerful, and at his side through it all. You had noticed the potential in another angel, her name was Lute. You saw such promise in her and had given her a squad to lead, and lead she did. Sometimes you worried how eager she was to kill, but you tried to keep it chalked up to the urge to protect Heaven from the Sinners in Hell. She was loyal to Heaven, and that was what this army needed.
Zoned out, you felt a hand at your waist, turning to look into those golden eyes you had grown to love so much. His grin was wide as he looked down at you, he was ready. Smiling back at him, you placed your hand on his chest and stood on your tip toes to press a quick kiss to his lips. Pulling you closer he kissed you back before he pulled back, his eyes watched your face with adoration,
“You ready for this Babe? Going to rip apart some of those filthy sinners, make sure they know their place” he chuckled darkly. You had to admit it was hot watching him lead, not so much in watching him kill. But as always you reminded yourself - you were doing something terrible for the best. Offering him a small smile you nodded,
“I’m ready to get this over with so we can go home and .. celebrate” you blinked up at him with feign innocence. To this he grinned and brought your faces ever closer to breath against your lips, “that’s my fucking girl” before he kissed you and then raised his arm to signal the start,
“It’s time! Let’s go and show those filthy fucking sinners what damnation really gets them!”
The choir of cheers that came from the exorcist army was an eerie sound. The clangs and screams of blades being drawn was the last thing before they began to charge.
“I’ll make sure they make you proud, sir” the last one, Lute, proclaimed. Her mask bore into your face, and you could feel the burn of her hatred towards you. You respected her, but you were not blind to how she looked at Adam when he wasn’t looking. You knew how much she despised you, but refused to pay her any mind. He dismissed her and then looked at you,
“Go make me proud, babe”
To that you jumped back, drawing your blade, pulling your mask down over your head as he did as well. With a nod at one another, you went your own ways.
Like many other exterminations you blocked out most of the violence, allowing yourself to black out. It was the moments you’d come to - the flash of your blade, the smears of red, the stains that splattered against the buildings. The stains that covered your clothes and bloodied your gloved hands. Not to mention the bloodcurdling screams that would snap you back into reality. You’d never admit just how sick the violence made your stomach twist.
Floating above the ally near one of the outter rings you took a deep breath, trying to ignore the trembling in your hand. The bodies before you painted the perfect image of a family, a mother and child shredded by your blade, the mothers arms wrapped around the small child in a protective manner. Not that it did them much good. Not against your angelic sword. A shaky breath escaped you as you forced yourself to look the other way.
It wasn’t until you heard noises coming from the wrong direction, you gripped your sword and flew off towards one of the other rings. You knew you had been given strict orders to slaughter the Sinners. The Hellbourn were safe, to be left untouched by your blades. But as you closed the distance you could see some angels cornering some Imps.
“Halt!” You shouted, watching as all eyes snapped to you. The angels clearly faltered as they realized they had been spotted, rage flurried in your chest at the scene. In this war, they were attacking innocent bystanders. Even if you were to dispose of any resident of Hell, you were not going to go against the Seraphim’s strict orders. “Those don’t look like sinners to me. I suggest you return to your stations and take care of your jobs. This transgression will not go unpunished, so don’t make it worse” you spat.
The angels frantically crashed into one another as they muttered out various sorrys and excuses as they passed you. Once the air cleared you looked back at the Imps and jumped down, watching as they trembled. “Go, try to avoid this side of the ring during these days in the future” you warned as they took their turn in scrambling over one another to get out of that street, fleeing for safety at your mercy.
“Why would you let those filthy scum leave!?” An accusatory voice demanded. Turning over your shoulder you could see Lite standing just down the street, clearly seething in rage at what she had just witnessed.
“Why wouldn’t I, Lute?” You scoffed as you turned to face her, “you know full well that our orders are strictly to kill Sinners. The Hellbourn, no matter how filthy, are not to be harmed during the exterminations”
Laughing wildly, she throws her head back and you glare at her as she laughs at you with no shred of shame. Charging you, you barely manage to block her with your sword before she hits you with her spear.
“How could Adam be so soft on someone so weak!? I’ll be sure to show him just how pathetic you really are!” She hissed, her rage fuelling her as she reigned down a barrage of attacks, each one more vicious than the last.
“Damn it, Lute! Fall back” you hiss, taken off guard you are left defending yourself to her assault. Finally she brings the bar of her spear down on your wrist, causing you to drop your sword and stumble back, with a quick spin of the spear she knocks you towards the ground.
Spinning to catch your fall, you feel the bite of the ground through your gloves as you manage to catch your fall. Grunting you try to push yourself to your feet, but suddenly a scream rips from your lungs as you feel her spear pierce through your shoulder, pinning your body to the ground. The golden blood started oozing from the wound, pooling on the ground around you. To make it worse you could feel a sharp heel pin the small of your back
“You no longer give me orders or any kind, you disgusting weakling,” she spat, her hands grabbing your wings. Between the heat radiating out of your shoulder, you could feel the tension in your back before another scream exploded from your chest as you felt your wings rip from your back. Tears started to flood from your eyes as the pain became unbearable. Everything burned as you peered through the tears to the bright flash of her spear as she pulled the blade from your shoulder.
The flash continued, but it was different. The white gleam started changing colours. The ringing in your ears started to thump, louder and louder.
Finally the screams had turned to cheers. Opening your eyes you found the strobing lights flashing in your view. The upside down faces cheering you on as you dragged yourself upright again, your hands sliding down the sliver pole as you crouched, swaying and swinging along it.
That was years ago. This was now. Stripped of your wings and left for dead, you had to fight to accept and accommodate to the world in which you had been raised to despise. Somehow you managed, you survived. Finding this place, you have come to find peace in this club. Dancing and earning a living to stay comfortable. It was not what you had ever considered yourself doing, but after the initial shock wore off you just accepted that this was your fate. Lute had stripped you of your wings, Adam probably thought you to be dead, and to make things even better he never came to find you. They left you here and this was all you had.
You managed to find your way in the Lust ring. You had gotten lucky and found a job as a waitress. Working at Ozzie’s you got acquainted with his boyfriend and things led to other things. For a little bit you did some freelance work with Fizzaroli’s brother, before getting promoted up to dancer. Things weren’t perfect, but you were comfortable and that was what really mattered. Survival.
Finishing up your routine you cast a half lidded glance out into the audience, scanning over the sea of lustful and drunk faces. Same old, same old that was until you noticed a set of overlords in the crowd. Painfully recognizable everywhere thanks to how much reach their company got. The Vees sat at a VIP table near the back just watching you with an interest that caused a bad feeling in your stomach.
Looking back out you did one more pose, letting the cheers carry before winking and turning to strut off stage. The back had Imps and Hellbourn alike moving quickly to cover you in your silk robe. Thanks to your connections you had been given favourable treatment at the club, not to mention you managed to bring in quite a crowd. Ozzie had offered you to do private shows seeing how popular you were but you declined. This wasn’t ideal, but you'd rather have people look only and not be allowed to touch.
Whispering a quick thanks to your team you headed back down the private halls to your dressing room. Each step just gave you an uneasy feeling deep in your gut, and you considered saying something. However, you wouldn’t want to alarm anyone. Not when you could handle any creepy stalkers. It wasn’t like you were weak or defenseless. After all, in your time down here you had taken down a few Overlords that were getting a bit out of hand.
Steeling yourself you took a deep breath, praying that you had just been over thinking it and imagining the paranoia. After all, you had been in your own head a lot this evening. Grabbing the doorknob you twisted it and opened it, stepping into the dark room. Hitting the light you didn’t notice anything right away until you looked at your wardrobe. There were two people standing there, both turned and looked at you, grinning. One was tall, and painfully familiar. Valentino, the moth demon that you had heard Ozzie curse about on numerous occasions. The man stood in a long coat, his heart glasses gleaming as he pulled out a ratty skimpy dress and lifted his brows in interest,
“Oh chica, this would’ve looked amazing on you tonight,” he purred as he looked your way. You glare at him, but before you could speak a shorter girl scoffed as she flipped through her phone,
“Might have been fine if it wasn’t so outdated. Figured working in such a classy establishment, they would at least offer you better outfits. After all they don’t have anything from my lines in there, so clearly they lack taste,” she snickered, getting the other to laugh in response.
“I would suggest you both leave. This is a private dressing room, you don’t have permission to be back here.” You hissed out. Despite your comment neither of them budged, they just continued on judging your show clothes and Valentino just kept pulling out more and more revealing ones.
The shut of the door caused you to jump a little as you spun around to see the TV demon, Vox. He stood in front of the door grinning, his blue suit perfect, not a wrinkle to be seen. He held himself with confidence and power, and he had all of his focus on you.
“I don’t think we have to go anywhere.” He chuckled as he stepped forward slowly, starting to close the distance between the two of you. “After all we’re just here to talk, nothing more” he stated, extending a hand and motioning to a chair. Following his motion you looked back at him and scoffed. Just because their little sinners would bend over backwards for an Overlord, or three, didn’t mean you would. You weren’t some sinner, and you weren’t foolish enough to trust them farther than you could throw them.
“You better talk fast before I alert security. Asmodeus doesn’t take kindly to stalkers,” you hissed, making sure to emphasize his full name. You did notice the sneer that Valentino gave you at the mention of the Sin of Lust. Good to know that their hatred for one another was a mutual thing.
A deep chuckle came from Vox, he continued to stride forward, his mismatched eyes never once leaving you as he did, “you see, we have been watching for a while now. We just needed to prove you were who we thought you were. Sure enough, Mourning Angel, it seems as though we were right” he stated, making sure to put emphasis on your stage name.
“Yes, it looks like our sources line up. You see we had a dear friend of ours go missing a little while back. A few whispers in the street mentioned an angel had been left behind a few exterminations ago,” Valentino purred, looking over at you as he ran his lanky fingers through a feathery cape on your rack. Stepping further back you glared between the two men, there was no way they could’ve found out. Ozzie had a very strict no camera policy in his clubs. He sold lust, but he wasn’t scum. He respected his workers and their privacy. Especially since he knew of your situation.
“Word on the web says that someone with angelic weapons had taken down our dearest friend,” Velvette piped up, never looking up from her phone. Clearly she wasn’t happy about this, but she also didn’t want to be spending her time here. “There had also been a few rumors that this one dancer looked an awful lot like that strange assassin that took down our friend”
“So,” you scoffed, “this is hell, that could’ve been just about anyone. Not to mention people fabricate lies on the internet all the time”
You quickly glanced around, you hadn’t brought your weapons with you to work for a while now. Not that you needed to protect yourself here often with all of the provided security. Had you really been that sloppy on your last kill? Everything was flooding your senses as you tried to wrack your brain for your past hunts. Vox took another step closer,
“However, being as merciful and kind as we are” he started, causing giggles from the other two, “we thought you might like a little ultimatum, if you will. See we could just kill you and get rid of the problem all together, or we would like to offer you a little deal”
You could feel your phantom feathers ruffle at this. They wanted a deal? This causes worry to prick along your skin. If they were offering your help in exchange for your life, what kind of dirt did they have on you? Were they bluffing or did they actually have proof? Did you want to know, was this a risk you were willing to take?
“Why would I ever make a deal with you three anyways? I have no idea what you’re on about,” you laughed and shook your head, “I am a dancer at Ozzie’s, the best I have to offer if the fact that I can regularlly bring in a pretty decent crowd”
“Well I am so glad you brought that up,” Velvette finally spoke up, looking up from her phone with a wicked grin. With a flick of her finger a bunch of translucent screens appeared around you, and all of them featured you. Eyes widening you looked back at yourself on the various screens. Each of them were moments you were less than proud of. All you at different points, killing demons.
You felt your eyes flicker between each one. One of you masked, tearing out a demon's heart, another with your hands dripping as you stood over a slain demon. Finally you fell on the biggest one, one that was a video unlike all of the other pictures. You stood in your prime, sword covered in blood, the citizens running for their life as you removed your exorcist helmet.
Suddenly it felt like breathing was a chore, suddenly your throat was so dry that you couldn’t force a breath down. Clutching at your robe with your hand, you couldn’t remember the last time you felt fear like this. They knew. And either they would rid themselves of the angel that was hidden among them, or who knows what kinds of plans they had for you.
A flicker of electricity hit the room before you felt two sets of clawed hands rest on the tops of your shoulders. Looking up you were face to face with the TV demon as he grinned down at you,
“What do you say? I’m sure people would be lining up to take a stab at one of the ones who have killed millions of our own” he started and leaned down, “but if you make this deal with us - we will keep you safe, and just for the small price of your soul. You will help us with our work, and in turn we protect your little secret. Trust us with your future”
Looking forward you could see the shit eating grins that painted the other overlords faces. It sure seemed like you had been caught in their net, if they let this get out there wouldn’t be anywhere you could go to hide from the bloodthirsty citizens that craved revenge. They had made sure to perfectly fabricate this little meeting before they made their move, and now you had been backed into a corner with nowhere else to go.
It seemed like your life was about to change yet again, and probably not for the better.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
AN: here is my first little Hazbin fic, yes this show has me in a chokehold. I am simping for far too many characters rn. This will be a slow burn for Lucifer and Alastor. There will be hurdles with the Vee's first, and mentions of past Adam.
All interaction is welcome and appreciated! I am updating mainly on AO3, so you can find early updates there first!
Adam X reader head cannons! First time doing this so it might not be done properly. Gladly writeing for characters/ making fan-art so please send me asks!
Tws: swearing, reference to sex jokes
🟡 when you to first meet he’s an absolute dickhead. However give him some time and you’ll start to warm up to him
🟡 makes sex jokes all the time, i mean all. the. time. he calls himself dickmaster for fuck sake
🟡 he would probably gets really jealous/ possessive over you, like if your ever talking to someone he will go out of his way to touch/ grab your waist or kiss you in various places.
🟡 bonus points of your shorter than him, than he would just intrude on your conversations and grab you from behind resting his head on yours, glaring daggers at the other person
🟡 his wings probably Arnt to sensitive being an exorcist and all. however if you manage to catch him without a shirt on and gently glide your fingers down his back his wings will puff up before a very flustered adam swings his head around to look at whoever the fuck touched him
🟡 he would probably shout at you a bit before asking you a few days later if you could do it again
🟡 this man will NOT apologize first in an argument trust me
🟡 stole this hc somewhere but he dose not know how to take care of his wings, he’ll come back from an extermination with his wings covered in demon blood and because he’s Adam will wait for you to clean them.
🟡 because he waits for you his wings get stained from it, probably says some shit that happened during his trip to hell while your cleaning his wings
🟡 absolutely calls himself a “nice guy”
🟡hear me out, if your also an exterminator he absolutely follows you around to make sure you don’t get hurt by some demon scum, gets worse after they find out the demons can actually kill angels
🟡He gets so panicked over you leaving him but never shows it. You only end up figuring this out after you left for a few days (idfk make Smthin up on why you left) and came back to a panicked Adam checking you from head to toe mumbling “if that fucker touched you I’ll kill him..” and other things along those lines
🟡hw would refuse to explain who the “fucker” is so you would have to ask lute only for he to tell you the whole story about Adam’s past s/o’s
🟡 would try to say that didn’t happen at first until you threatened him by saying you weren’t going to buy ribs for him anymore
🟡 you would probably force him to sit on the couch as you sat on his lap, gently stroking his wings and back as you reassured him that you would never leave him for anyone let alone Lucifer himself
Pairing: Sam x Dean, implied Winchesters x F!Reader, implied Adam x F!Reader, implied Dean x Jo, implied Dean x Claire
Characters: Sam, F!Reader, Dean, John, Adam, Claire, mentions of Bobby, Ellen, Jo
Summary: Dean discovers some family secrets in the wake of John's death.
Warnings: Wincest, gay sex, oral, daddy!kink, minor feminization, implied dub con, implied loss of virginity, legal stuff, deathbed confessions/secrets revealed, implied stillbirth, implied marital rape, implied incest (father/daughter), implied attempted infanticide, Mary is not treated well.
WC: 3.1k
beta’d by the wonderful, lovely, @writethelifeyouwant
This is a dark!fic that includes triggering content and is intended for mature audiences only. You are responsible for your own media consumption, so please, read the warnings and if you feel that you may be triggered and/or offended please move along. If you have any questions about the warnings/tags please feel free to DM me.
Don’t Speak Masterlist
My Full Masterlist
Part 18
Dean
“Fuck, Sammy,” Dean grunts as Sam swallows him down and tangles his hands in Sam’s hair, encouraging him to bob up and down on his cock. It’s the first time they’ve been together properly since returning home. Claire’s been especially clingy, wanting to spend all her time with him, and he wishes that she were more like Y/N in that regard, not pushing for any additional attention from Sam.
The feeling of Sam’s tongue around his cock and the obscene moans coming from Sam’s pretty little mouth makes Dean want to cum right down his throat, but he won’t, not until his baby brother’s been taken care of as well. Dean’s mouth waters as he watches Sam’s free hand disappear into his trousers, and notices the unmistakable movement of him stroking himself to hardness.
“Please, De,” Sam groans, popping off Dean’s cock. “Need you.”
“Not yet, baby boy,” Dean tsks, pulling Sam up to his feet, planting a rough kiss on his brother's lips, and replacing Sam’s hand with his own. Dean’s thumb rubs against Sam’s slit, and he uses his other hand to rid Sam of his trousers. A dull thud fills the room as Sam’s pants fall to the floor, before Dean’s rips off his shirt, exposing Sam’s toned and taut chest. Dean can’t help but let out a sigh of appreciation as he takes in his brother’s gorgeous body.
He plants kisses around Sam’s neck, biting and sucking hard enough to leave a number of marks, showing everyone who Sam belongs to. Dean makes his way down Sam’s chest, until he’s on his knees taking Sam’s leaking cock into his mouth. He swirls his tongue around Sam’s length, swallowing him down, hollowing his cheeks, until he can feel Sam at the back of his throat.
“Please, daddy,” Sam moans, and Dean’s cock gets even harder at the use of his new nickname. Dean’s hands make their way towards Sam’s puckered hole, rubbing it for a few moments before pushing in a single finger. Sam never needed much prep, and today is no different, but Dean loves working him open. He slides another finger in, scissoring Sam open, and sucking even harder on his cock until Sam is coming hot and salty down Dean’s throat.
Dean swallows down Sam’s seed, letting him go with a pop, before rising to his feet and planting his lips on Sam’s, letting Sam taste himself on Dean’s tongue. Sam’s needy, whiney, and exactly where Dean wants him, and he can’t wait much longer to sink his cock into his baby brother.
“How y’want it, Sammy?” Dean grunts, wrapping his hand around Sam’s cock again, stroking him back to hardness.
“Wanna see you.”
“On your back and spread your legs f’me,” Dean whispers as he walks Sam backwards towards the bed. “Show me that needy little hole a’yours.”
Dean kneels at the edge of the bed between Sam’s legs where he’s completely exposed. He leans forward to lick at Sam’s hole and pushes in two fingers. Once Sam’s ready and loose, Dean wets his palm and strokes his cock, standing up to guide himself into Sam.
“Please, daddy,” Sam begs again as Dean pushes in the tip of his cock, relishing in the feeling of his brother finally wrapped around him again.
“Y’want daddy to fuck you, baby boy?” Dean teases, leaning over Sam, his breath hot on his face. “Tell daddy how much you wan’ it, Sammy.”
“Please, daddy, need you to fuck me, make me yours.”
“So needy, baby,” Dean starts thrusting hard and deep into Sam. “S’too bad you aren’t a girl, then I coulda started breeding you years ago.” Sam moans at Dean’s words, clenching around his cock. “Keep you full of my cum, watch you grow round over and over again. We wouldn’t have to take on those whores as wives.”
In a swift move, Dean pulls out of Sam and sits back at the head of the bed, beckoning Sam forward with a flick of his finger. Sam’s eyes are lust blown as he crawls on all fours towards Dean. Dean expects him to climb on top of him, but instead Sam takes Dean’s cock in his mouth again, kissing the tip before swallowing him down. Dean lets out a sigh, there isn’t anything much better than Sam wrapped around him, whether it’s his mouth or ass, the only thing that comes close is Y/N’s tight little pussy, but even then, he’ll take his brother over those useless bitches any day. Claire, though, isn’t completely useless, she’s done her duty, at least.
Once Sam’s got Dean’s cock nice and wet, he climbs into Dean’s lap, jerks his cock once more before guiding it towards his hole. Dean reaches for Sam, grabbing his ass as he encourages Sam to ride him; nothing beats a needy slut riding his cock, whether it’s Sam, Y/N, Claire or Jo. Sam’s riding his cock like there’s no tomorrow, as if this may be the last time that they are together.
"Fuck, Sammy," Dean moans as he feels Sam squeeze around him, sees his baby brother’s cock hardening once again. "C'mon baby boy, show me how bad you want it."
Sam bounces even harder on Dean, hair flopping in front of his eyes as he takes him even further to the root. Dean can feel himself getting closer, and he wraps a hand around Sam’s cock, stroking him in time with Sam’s movements.
“Fill me up, Daddy,” Sam pants, “fill up your baby boy.”
Dean cums with a holler, spilling inside Sam, not caring if the whole house hears them. Sam collapses on top of him, body sweaty from exertion.
Dean shoves Sam off of him playfully. As much as he would love to spend the next hour buried inside his brother, they have legal matters to attend to. The reading of John’s will would be today, and they would learn what exactly he had left them, though there wasn’t much to guess.They had no other family to speak of, so it’s not like they had to worry about some long-lost cousin or uncle trying to claim a portion of the estate.
“C’mon Sammy, Finch’ll be here soon,” Dean says, giving him a swat on the ass.
Sam mumbles in response, before lifting himself off the bed and redressing.
Y/N and Claire are downstairs waiting for him and Sam when Finch arrives. Pleasantries are exchanged as the girls introduce themselves and quietly take their seats behind him and Sam as Finch begins reading out John’s bequests. Sam side-eyes him when Joanna’s name comes up, as a recipient of a small fortune as well. Dean’s not surprised, John was one to always take care of family, and Jo, whether Ellen liked it or not, would be connected to Dean for the rest of her life.
That was his kid she was carrying in her belly, and John wouldn’t allow the mother of his first grandchild to go hungry. He’d make sure that the kid would receive a proper Winchester upbringing, even if it never shared their name. He remembers the night he’d done it: Y/N had caught him buried deep in her, but he didn’t need to worry about her saying anything. They’d taught her well enough to stay in her place, and even if Y/N did tell Claire, she was too timid to speak against her husband.
“And to the matter of my Estate…” Dean focuses his attention back on Finch, “whichever one of my sons is the first to produce a legitimate male heir.”
Dean scoffs and orders Finch to repeat himself; surely, he must’ve heard wrong. Dean was the oldest, he was supposed to be the one to become the master of the manor. Not that it mattered, Claire was already pregnant, and at this rate it didn’t seem like Sam would ever manage to get Y/N pregnant. He figures that if Sam can’t or won’t do the job within the next couple of months, he'll have to take matters into his own hands.
“An additional inheritance of ten thousand dollars will be given for him to do with however he sees fit, with a minimum of one thousand to go into a trust to allow for the boy’s, and any future children’s, education and training.”
Dean can feel the anger radiating off of Sam as Finch continues, stating that both Y/N and Claire would receive a small fortune as well, in the event of their husbands’ deaths. They typically lived more dangerous lives than they had over the last year, but John’s death was a wake up call to Dean, at least. Finch drones on for another hour before asking to speak with Dean privately. The girls are dismissed quickly, but Sam is less than willing to leave, protesting that whatever Finch needs to say to Dean can be said to him as well.
“Your father insisted,” Finch cowers slightly as Sam stares him down. “That this next part was to be shared with Dean and Dean alone.”
“S’okay, Sammy,” Dean laughs, though curious as to what other stipulations he would reveal about their estate now that he was gone. Sam grunts, but listens to his brother, stepping out of the room.
“Mr. Winchester,” Finch pulls an envelope out of his side pocket. “Your father dropped this at my office a few weeks ago, along with another amendment to his will. I wasn’t able to put it into effect before his death, but this letter corroborates his wishes.” Dean grabs the envelope and eyes Finch, before ripping into the letter and reading.
Dean–
There are things about our family that you don’t know, and I never planned on telling you, but, in the event of my death, you are the oldest, and you must now take on this burden of knowledge.
Over the years, you’ve asked repeatedly about the circumstances behind your mother’s death, and while I’d let you and your brother believe that she was taken from us, the truth is far from that. Mary never had any intention of settling down, but an arrangement between her parents and mine, a merging of two strong bloodlines, sealed our fates. We didn’t care for each other, and used others to fulfill our needs for years, until your mother became emboldened, trotting her lovers around the manor, and refusing to share my bed. I couldn’t take it anymore, and wouldn’t be made a fool of, and that night I took what was rightfully mine.
After you were born, your mother refused to care for you, and hired Ellen to nurse you. Ellen and I grew close as she cared for you, and less than two years into her service with us, Joanna was born. During this time, your mother’s mental state was becoming more erratic, and doctors told us that she had hysteria. I kept your mother locked in her chambers, convinced that she had been possessed, and asked a priest to perform an exorcism, but nothing worked. One legitimate child wouldn’t be enough to carry on the Winchester name, and your mother became pregnant again, but the child, a girl, was lost. The death of your sister only weakened your mother’s already fragile mind. She nearly drowned little Joanna while helping Ellen bathe the two of you, screaming about our lost daughter. I made the decision to commit your mother to an institution until she was well enough for me to put another child in her.
I wasn’t given the opportunity, as by the time I brought your mother home, she was already expecting. Sammy was born six months later, and while he may be a Winchester by name, he is not our blood. He is the product of something unholy; a demon possessed your grandfather and forced himself on your mother. The only reason I didn’t end the baby’s life is because your mother begged me to spare him, that I would learn to love him. I realized that whether he was my blood or not, he was my son.
I wouldn’t let another child be taken from me, and as I grew more fond of him your mother once again became hysterical. The circumstances of your mother’s death aren’t as mysterious as I’ve led you and Sam to believe. The night your mother died, she tried to smother Sam; Ellen was checking in on her, and found them. She said Mary was muttering about a cursed bloodline, and that it had to end with him. Your mother planned to come after you next, and Ellen did what she had to do to protect you and your brother. Ellen saved you and Sammy that night, she hadn’t meant to hurt Mary, and one day you need to thank her for what she's done for you.
Dean can feel his heart pounding in his chest, and can hardly think straight. Why would John wait until now, until he was gone, to make these confessions? He knew there was something off about Sam, there always had been, but now knowing that he is a cambion, and that the demon used their grandfather to impregnate their mother, did that mean that one day he’d have to end Sam’s life as well?
After Mary’s death, I couldn’t be around you or Sam. Memories were too painful, and I didn’t know how I would explain it all to you one day. When your grandfather passed and I was made master of the Estate, I knew I could no longer skirt my duties. I had no real intention of marrying again, but your grandmother insisted I try. When Katherine came into our lives, I had no intention of falling in love with her. But as I watched her be the mother that you and Sam deserved, I knew she was the one for me. When I confessed to her about what our family does, she at first, took it in stride.
You and Sam were heartbroken when she left, she and Ellen were the only mother Sam had ever truly known, and you had taken to her quite well. But, now that I’m gone, I must tell you why she left. Katherine was pregnant, and didn’t want to live in fear that something would harm her or our child, and I reluctantly let her go. Your brother was born six months later, and she called him Adam.
Adam Milligan is your half-brother. To my understanding, he is unaware of his heritage, and his mother would like to keep it that way. Adam is to stay on as a physician to ensure that the girls remain healthy throughout their pregnancies. If neither Claire or Y/N give birth to sons within five years of my passing, Winchester Manor may pass to Adam if he has produced a male heir and chooses to reclaim his birthright.
You and Sam must decide what is more important, our family legacy, or each other.
–Dad
Dean can feel his face growing redder but the second. He re-reads the letter again, and again, trying to make sure he understands everything correctly. Why did he lie for so long about Mary’s death? He could understand when he was a small child and didn’t understand that there were creatures and things that go bump in the night. But he was an adult now, he and Sam could understand that there was more to their mother’s death than they thought. Now Dean has to decide what to do with all the information that John’s laid out in front of him. If Adam truly was their half-brother, and wanted to claim some part of the estate, this letter was all he needed. He needn’t worry about Adam producing an heir before him, at least, with Claire well into her pregnancy.
“Is this real?” Dean questions Finch. “Adam Milligan is our brother?”
“Your father had been giving Ms. Milligan a monthly stipend up until Adam’s eighteenth birthday. When I recently spoke with Katherine, she confirmed that as far as she knows, Adam is unaware of his parentage.”
“What about Sam?”
“There is nothing that can prove what your father alleges about Sam or Adam,” Finch admits. “And legally, it doesn’t matter when it comes to Sam. I did know your mother for a brief time, and she had many delusions of grandeur. I remember your father trying to exorcize her, and when she returned from the asylum she was worse off than before. ”
Dean spends the following weeks wrestling with himself on whether he should share what he learned with Sam. In the end, he decides against it; knowing what Dean knows won’t do either of them any good. And if Dean is honest with himself, he really wishes he didn’t know it either.
He allows Sam to stay behind in Virginia when the case starts to go cold; Dean has more important matters to attend to, namely Adam. He hadn't sent word ahead to announce his early homecoming, not needing the pomp and circumstance that John used to love, instead only giving a quick greeting to Bobby at the door. Claire and Y/N are out wandering the grounds, something Bobby’s told him they’ve made a habit of as of late, not that Dean cares what they do when he and Sam aren’t around. The only thing that does bother him is how much time Adam has been spending with Y/N.
It’s not Y/N he doesn’t trust, he and Sam had trained her well enough, and she was too timid to do anything with someone outside of him and Sam. But Adam– he clearly had formed some sort of bond with her while they were gone. Sam has little interest in Y/N anymore, sharing his and Claire’s bed more than sleeping in his own, not that Dean’s complaining. But if Sam were a little more observant, he’d notice the looks that Adam gives Y/N when he thinks no one is watching.
"Dean," Claire's voice pulls Dean out of his own thoughts. There's a slight worry behind her voice, as if she's concerned with his early return. He supposes that makes sense, the last time they returned early from a hunt, John was dead. Dean takes in her appearance; her belly has rounded out perfectly under her dress and he can’t wait to see Y/N the same way. If Sam’s not going to get the job done, then Dean will. He can’t risk Adam trying to claim the estate. Once he and Sam both have their sons, it will be impossible for Adam to become the master of the manor. "I didn't think you'd be home so soon."
"Case was going cold, Sammy decided to stay behind for a few more days."
"Oh."
“What is it sweetheart?” Dean cups Claire’s face as she reaches him.
“It’s Y/N,” Claire says timidly. “There’s something you don’t know.”
“Sam and I know about everything that goes on in this house, princess,” Dean tsks, and Claire’s lip quivers. Whatever she’s about to tell him, she’s clearly nervous about it. “You can tell me, Claire.”
“If I tell you, I’m being good?”
“Yes, sweetheart, you’re my good girl.”
Claire takes a deep breath, “Y/N’s pregnant.”
Dean doesn’t understand Claire’s hesitation. Y/N being pregnant has been the goal since they took her last year. The worry on Claire’s face doesn’t waver, what else was she afraid to tell him.
“Is there something else, princess?”
“Y/N has been having an affair with Adam,” Claire says barely above a whisper. “She told me that she thinks the baby is his, but–” Dean doesn’t hear another word, beelining straight for Y/N’s room.
Part 20
Feedback is fuel! Please let me know what you think!
