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reilemon · 1 month

Text

🫧Love Don't Be Shy🫧

♡︎ pairing: Rafayel x fem!reader

｡°⚠︎°｡MINORS DNI (18+ ONLY)｡°⚠︎°｡

♡︎cw:unprotected sex (as always), there's only one bed, sex toys, pulling out

♡︎word count: 2.9k

♡︎synopsis: Rafayel finds your mini "neck massager" while going through your makeup bag.

♡︎a/n: I hope you guys like how I wrote Rafayel.

♡︎ special thanks to my beta reader ♡︎@its-de♡︎ for reading and helping me with this

banner by @cafekitsune

A defeated sigh leaves your lips. You have to share the bed with your friend (employee?) Rafayel. You just nod when Rafayel checks with you if it's okay, and of course you agree because you don't want to go around searching for another hotel.

The last time you had to share a room, and the bed, you barely got any sleep as he was tossing and turning all night, stealing the duvet in consequence. You couldn't be too mad at him as you know how messed up his sleep schedule is. Also, he was so sweet for remembering your comment how you wished to see a certain spot at that place.

This time is no different; he organized this little trip for you to make good use of your vacation days. He researched all the restaurants that you'd like, shops that he'd like, fun and interesting places to visit, and always takes the best seats in the airplane. But he always forgets to book two rooms in advance!

It's not that bad, you tell yourself. You're very comfortable around Rafayel; he makes you feel safe and he adores spending time with you. It's just that you have your own night routine. And you can't do it with him in the same room.

Oh well, the vacation will fly by quickly.

Even with this little inconvenience, you wish it won't. Not because you don't want to get back to work, but because you also adore spending time with him. And lately, with every meeting you hope to become more than just friends (more than just an artist and his bodyguard).

⋆ ˚｡⋆꒰ა 🪼 ໒꒱⋆ ˚｡⋆

After unpacking Rafayel and you go outside to grab a quick bite at the city centre. Of course that turns into an impromptu shopping spree because the two of you stumbled upon a vintage flea market.

You drag your feet as Rafayel almost skips next to you, bags with little trinkets in his hands. It's a beautiful summer afternoon, with a refreshing breeze. You'd enjoy it more if there weren't so many people around.

He glances at your 'energetic' walk. "C'mon Miss Bodyguard, we had a good time there!"

You chuckle. "Sure, if you can call 'talking you out of buying everything you see' a good time."

"But everything was so beautiful!"

"Yes, but think of the luggage!"

He shifts his bags to one hand and offers you the free one with a soft smile. "Give me your hand. I don't want to get lost."

He says that, but he's the one leading you through the crowd.

⋆ ˚｡⋆꒰ა 🪼 ໒꒱⋆ ˚｡⋆

You had to take a little nap after coming back to your room, because Rafayel had more things planned for this evening, and you needed the energy. You wanted to look and feel good because you actually looked forward to it. You might've even bought some new outfits that you thought he'd like, even though he gives you compliments no matter how much effort you put into your appearance.

While you were asleep, Rafayel took a long shower.

When you awoke, you found him in your room with nothing but a towel wrapped around his hips.

You blush and avert your gaze, opting to just not comment on it. "Are you at least wearing underwear?" You commented on it.

He looks down, like he forgot about his state of almost-undress. "I do. Wanna check?" His hand resting on the towel knot.

Your hand immediately shoots up to cover your view of whatever he's about to show you. "It's fine! I just didn't expect this to be the first thing I see after a nap!"

He laughs and strolls towards the closet. "You saw me in a bathing suit plenty of times. This towel covers more."

You can't help but sneak a peek at his toned back while he's picking out an outfit. For someone who claims to hate working out, he's more than fit. You can clearly see the way his muscles are carved under his pale still damp skin and the way they flex as he moves. As he turns around, you can’t help but crave to graze your hand over his defined abs and those veins leading down to -

"Like what you see?"

Caught red handed, you snap your head in the opposite direction, your face burning with embarrassment.

"I'll go take a shower." You mumble as you snatch your underwear and a nightdress from a drawer and escape to the bathroom, blushing even more as you catch Rafayel's mischievous laugh.

⋆ ˚｡⋆꒰ა 🪼 ໒꒱⋆ ˚｡⋆

Refreshed, and not at all embarrassed anymore, you emerge from the bathroom to get your makeup bag. You don't know whether to put the outfit on before the makeup, or the other way around...

Your brain short circuits when your eyes land on Rafayel holding your makeup bag in one hand - and your mini vibrator in the other.

He holds it up and studies it "Is this like a mini neck massager?"

You're frozen in place. Your body is discovering new levels of embarrassment.

Hearing nothing from you, his attention shifts to your figure. You don't register the way his eyes admire you in your little nightdress. "Well?" He presses the little button and the little buzzing sound hits your ears like crashing waves of sweat hitting your body.

He's teasing you. He has got to be teasing you. Like he always is. There's no way he thinks this is for his neck!

"Give it back." You croak, your throat dry.

"Why? You don't want to show me how to use it?" He's really going through with this little bit.

"Why were you even going through my makeup bag?"

He explains how he forgot to pack some cream and wanted to borrow it from you, or something like that, you barely listened because he was not letting go of the little bullet vibrator. He's put down the makeup bag, but not the toy!

The buzzing gets stronger as Rafayel's finger presses the button multiple times. "So, which setting is the best?"

He flinches as you basically hurl yourself towards him to take back what's yours. He holds it in the air, away from your reach.

"What's up with you?" his eyebrows knot, cheeks lightly red at the close proximity.

"Give it back!"

Finding your frustration confusing but at the same time cute and amusing, he continues to keep it out of your reach, letting you chase him around the room.

"Nuh - uh!" he laughs and turns to you, only for his face to be met with a white fluffy pillow.

You smacked him across the face, not too hard of course; you're still his body guard. You earn a little 'hey!' with a flushed face and to defend himself, he puts the toy in his pocket and grabs his own pillow. You didn't even notice how good his outfit looked.

The two of you end up in a brief pillow fight - mostly him taking hits while you managed to dodge most of them. But then Rafayel swiftly snatches your pillow, and pins you down on the bed, holding your wrists in his hand and resting his knees on the bed.

He asks, out of breath "Is it not a neck massager?" While you were in a pillow fight he caught on how red your face is and how that shape doesn't seem like it's for the neck.

You struggle under him, aware of how your nightdress lifted under the impact, and how your breasts are on the verge of spilling out. A small whine leaves your lips in frustration as he's so much stronger than you.

"Yes! It's my vibrator, okay?" you can't meet his gaze. You're sure you look so damn pathetic right now.

But you don't see the delight in Rafayel's eyes as he takes in your cute flushed pouting face. He can't help but take a peek of your figure under him, the way your tits are barely covered, the hem of your dress lifted to show off your plush thighs pressed together.

He releases his hold on you and sits back, still straddling you. "Is that why you were upset over one room? You could've just told me and I would've taken a walk or something. Maybe even get you a snack to replenish your energy."

You could not be more mortified. Your eyes are still fixed somewhere to the side and your lips don't move.

His fingers softly hold your chin and you muster the courage to look him in the eyes. You notice how messy his curls are. "There's nothing to be ashamed of." He reassures you with a soft smile, and hands you over the wretched thing.

And you loved that about Rafayel - he knew when to stop teasing and when it's time to give you reassurance.

Still, you needed your little revenge.

It doesn't matter that he's stronger than you, you still have your hunter skills, and in a blink of an eye, you switch positions, straddling his lap.

He opens his mouth to make some dirty joke but only a yelp gets out when you suddenly press the buzzing toy on his side while locking his wrists with your hand.

He pleads for mercy as you continue to run the vibrator on second to highest setting all over his torso.

A blush creeps up on your cheeks, and heat pools between your legs as his whimpers and gasps keep leaving his plump lips and his body squirms under you, his crotch grazing your bottom.

Flustered and out of breath, Rafayel had enough of the torture and pins you down again - pressing you in the same position you had him in, but with his knee so dangerously close to your clothed heat.

"You're being cruel, kitten." he breathes, his tone a little too calm for your liking.

He takes the toy from you and starts sliding it down the middle of your belly, the contact making you squirm and laugh a little. "I was being supportive here and you go and start torturing me."

"I was embarrassed!" you scream between laughs and pants.

He complains in his playful manner about how you attacked him while he was so confused, you can barely hear him over your involuntarily laughs. In your squirms and attempts to break free, your core grinds more than once against his knee and upper thigh.

And maybe he's inching his knee closer to you.

You open your eyes when you don't feel the tickles anymore. You're met with his soft hooded eyes.

"I want to make it up to you, darling."

He studies your face as his hand moves up and a gasp leaves your lips as it lightly grazes the underside of your breast over with the vibrating toy.

He repeats the same motion on the other breast. "Do you want me to stop?"

You sheepishly shake your head.

The grip on your wrists loosens, but you let him hold you down.

Finally, he gives attention to your already pebbled nipples, carefully rubbing circles around them. His eyes take in your flushed face - beautiful lips parted as you pant underneath him, eyes veiled with lust and desperation for more, sensitive nipples poking through the thin fabric of your nightdress.

Your panties are damp with the attention on your nipples and core grinding against his knee. And with Rafayel on top of you, with his cheeks flushed, messy hair and half lidded eyes gazing at you with adoration, you crave more.

He doesn't need to read your thoughts to know what you need. Your hips are desperately pressing against him, soaked panties leaving a wet patch on his pants.

A playful smirk stretches his lips, but he fights the urge to tease you. Instead, his hand trails down, avoiding your tummy this time, and presses the toy on your inner thigh, earning a jolt from your legs and a whimper from your lips. With his slender fingers, he lifts up the hem of your dress, exposing your panties.

You feel his knee move back, but still touching your clothed heat. Pressing the button for the lowest setting, he places the vibrating tip of the toy right between your folds, the familiar sensation of the vibrator making you moan. Only it's different now, because Rafayel is the one pressing it against you, the one making you feel so good, which makes you cream, your heart beating against your chest, your face and chest burning with need and desire.

With more confidence, Rafayel starts pressing and slowly rubbing your sensitive bud. "You like that princess? Does it feel good?"

You frantically nod, your pussy already throbbing with an impending orgasm. "Just like that!" You manage to breathe out.

His cock is painfully hard in his boxers, straining in his tight pants. He feels like he could cum just watching your beautiful face dazed with lust and listening to your sinful moans. Soft pants are leaving his lips "Fuck, you're so beautiful."

He releases your wrists to rest his elbow next to your head and he dips down, latching his lips with yours. You reciprocate immediately, wrapping your arms around his neck, relishing in the feeling of finally tasting his gorgeous pink lips.

Both of you are a panting mess, kissing sloppily, saliva dripping from the corners of your mouth as your tongue intertwines with his.

And all of this is becoming too much for you, and you already feel the coil in your stomach is about to snap any second. You snatch the collar of his shirt, probably ripping from how tight you're gripping it. "Don't stop, I'm cummin' - !"

He watches you in awe as you tremble and mewl underneath him, unable to kiss him back as the waves of your release overtake you. His lips latch onto your neck as he uses his thumb and knee to help you come down from your high. His breath is trembling as he sucks and licks the sensitive skin on your neck, his face burning and cock throbbing.

He almost whines in your ear "Please, please princess, I need to fuck you so bad..."

Your fingers interlace with his messy curls and he lifts up his head to meet your eyes. His cheeks and ears are burning red, eyes pleading and hooded with lust.

You softly whisper "I need you."

The same second he hears those words, his working hand frantically works his belt and the pants, a sigh of relief leaving his lips as his hot leaking cock is freed. He wants to take his sweet time with you, worshipping you, but he's already on the brink.

And you're so impatient; you pull your panties to the side and take his cock in your hand and tease the tip against your dripping pussy, the action making the man above you whimper.

"Fuck, princess!" He moves your hand away and squeezes the angry red tip. "Watching you got me so worked up, I don't think I'm gonna last long." He admits with a weak smile.

You pull him into a soft kiss "That's okay, you already made me cum so hard."

He kisses your lips and slowly starts sliding in, a gasp leaving both of your lips. He rests his forehead against yours, eyes squeezed shut as he eases into your sopping cunt.

You bite his delicious bottom lip as he buries himself to the hilt, your walls fluttering around his cock and you feel like you're about to cum again. You release his bottom lip and you move onto kissing his jaw and neck. Fuck, he smells so good.

He stays still as he tries to hold onto his sanity. His hot breath fans over your ear "You're squeezing me so hard, doll."

You wiggle your hips and press his lower back, urging him to start moving. Exhaling a shaky breath, his hips slowly start rolling, yours moving at the same pace. Mewls and moans are leaving your lips, as his cock keeps stroking the sweet spot inside you, glazing his length in your slick.

Rafayel needs to make you cum around his cock, but he’s already so painfully close, with your wet walls squeezing him so hard, your pretty lips on his neck and your bewitching voice in his ear.

He was so captivated by you that he almost forgot about the little toy lying next to you.

Your eyes widen when you see him snatch the toy and turns it on to a higher setting and props himself up, angling his hips to reach your swollen and twitching bundle of nerves. Intense shocks of pleasure take over your body as he starts rubbing the vibrator again, and in seconds you're a whimpering mess as his cock thrusts into you, repeatedly hitting that sensitive spot, and his hand pressing the toy on your clit.

"Raf - I -" Is all you manage to say before another orgasm overtakes you, your breath catching in your throat and for a second you think you're going to pass out. You can barely hear Rafayel's soothing and strained whispers of you how gorgeous you are and how pretty you sound.

But hear him whimper "I'm gonna cum, princess."

He tosses the drenched vibrator to the side and with a squelching sound pulls out of you, and your hips twitch as he presses the tip against your still throbbing clit as he jerks himself off, ropes of hot cum spilling all over your belly and drenched cunt. You’re thankful he pulled up your dress in the process, but you wouldn’t mind if he stained it.

After both of you take a moment to catch your breath, he puts his weight on you and you wrap your arms around his back squeezing him tight.

He peppers you with soft kisses all over your cheeks, your nose, your eyelids. His fingers caress your face.

He chuckles with that playful smirk on his lips. "I should snoop around your stuff more often."

#love and deepspace #rafayel love and deepspace #love and deepspace smut #love and deepspace rafayel #rafayel smut #lads smut #lads x reader #lads rafayel #rafayel x reader #rafayel x you

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certifiedwhore4slashers · 7 months

Text

Manipulative

pairing: coriolanus snow x f!reader, past oc x f!reader.

summary: he’s fallen way too deep, and he knows that.

a/n: i am in no way romanticizing nor defending his actions, he sucks as a person, this is for funsies, keep that in mind. remember he’s literally responsible for mass murders of children. also this idea is cliche ik ik. but, if you want more I will do more with original ideas.

reader has somewhat long hair, BUT no other descriptions of the reader. and I don’t usually do that. just for this post:)

warnings: yandere themes, toxicity, manipulative behavior(manipulation) obsession, possessiveness, no fluff, implied/referenced murder, slight blood, narcissistic tendencies, delusion, unhealed trauma, implied stalking, mild violence.

The meadow was where you’d often go. Ever since the games, it was a stress reliever, humming some songs or even just listening to the birds chirp.

After Coriolanus was sent to be a peacekeeper, You were sent home. District 12 was your home. You sat down on the cold rock. You were more of an creative artist than musician. Sometimes you wrote songs, and sometimes you wrote poems or just stories.

But you didn’t feel like doing anything today, just admiring the breeze in front of you. You were fairly zoned out when you hear a twig snap, and turn around.

You sigh of relief.”Sorry. Still have those instincts from the games.” You rushed over, not doing much. Still in disbelief he really was there.

You didn’t expect him to be here. But here he was. “It leaves quite the impression, He chuckled. It was a long embrace, and you say,”You found me. Quite surprised.”

“You figured I would, He teased. “Not this fast, and really it was hope, You tease right back, lips on his, it was passionate and sweet, ideal for a reunion.

“The sun’s hot, come in the shade, You offer. He had some ice, now melted and offered it.”Here. For you.” “Thank you, You reply.

You were very thirsty. The moment the water hit your tongue you were in heaven. “This must be the only cold thing in November, he joked.

You laugh in response.”So, Coriolanus Snow, What are you doing in the Meadow?” You were half joking. You never were fully serious. At least until it came to your feelings for him.

“Spending some time with my girl, He replies. The word My, a possessive tone, You notice. But brush it off.

“It’s unbelievable, You admit.”Truly. But I was surprised they brought me back. I swore It was all me.” “But it wasn’t, he points out. You look at him.”Clearly they didn’t believe me.”

His lips were on yours again, long and passionate. You two hadn’t seen each other since the games ended.

“Well, It was hard to believe for me too, He admits.”Tell me what happened after.” It was difficult to recall everything. The games were a nightmare. Especially the Arena. And Mayfair.

As the two of you share the water, You couldn’t help but wonder as he told stories, exchanging them, if something was wrong.

“Poor Jessup, You say sympathetically.”He didn’t deserve that. It was you, though, wasn’t it? The one who killed Bobbin?”

“I had to, Coriolanus replied.”He tried to kill me.” “I’m not saying what you did was wrong, but I suppose killing is for survival in the Arena, You reply. Snow only nodded.

“I heard the others brag, You say.”So I know. I thought the worst happened. You know, that you were dead.”

Heading back up beside him, You still couldn’t believe he was here. Whatever relationship you had, seemed to grow.

“What have you been up to? He asks, curiously.”It’s been a while.” “It has, you laugh.”And truly, not much. A few performances here and then. At the Hob, Maude Ivory’s an amazing singer like Lucy Gray.”

For a mere moment, You were in complete bliss. And that night was a normal evening for the Covey. Your parents were killed, well, your adoptive parents. They took you in, then Maude Ivory came along, your younger sister.

You became a part of the Covey. Until of course, their murders. But you had her, at least. “You want one? A peacekeeper asks, referring to liquor.”You might need it for your performance.”

“Sure, You grin, taking a swig, not making a reaction to the bitterness of it.”You’re right. I might need it.” Lucy Gray was a beautiful singer, but tonight, let you perform.

“Are you sure? I’m not the songbird, You tease. “I’m sure, and Maude Ivory wanted you to, She sweetly says. Your cousin was always the songbird.

“Besides, I think he’d like to hear you sing, Lucy Gray smirked. You knew who she was referring to. Truly the one who knew of your relationship, but by accident.

You wore a yellow dress, not too short but not too long either, and sunflowers in your hair. You wanted to have a good impression.

You tease her,”I think he’d like to hear you.” But you went up there, guitar in hand. A talent that you and Lucy Gray both had. It was the genes, you swore.

But you amazed the crowd as you sang. You were no Songbird. But you had some talent. And the whole time your eyes were on him.

It made him feel more special, in a way. Like the only person could make you feel this happy was him. Him. You were his, at least in his eyes.

But you did a wonderful performance. You mostly did instruments and stood in the background. You didn’t sing much.

Even though you were aware he was there, you went on, even with butterflies in your stomach. It was later that evening that things went downhill.

You said goodbye, even to Coriolanus, saying,”I shouldn’t be out so late anyway. But I promise, straight tomorrow. I’m sure you have peacekeeper things to do, anyway.”

He smiles.”It’s alright. You must be tired from that performance.” You laugh, then nod, quickly kissing him, then moving along.

You didn’t notice that he followed you. He was quite literally, obsessed. Especially after hearing your sweet voice. Since finding your home in the Seam, it wasn’t hard to follow you, and pretend he was there for something else.

Sometimes, he’d meet you there. Other times, didn’t even know he was there watching. He’d call it protectiveness. But it was really a sense of possessiveness over you.

That’s what it really was.

He heard your voice in your room, you sang to yourself. You sang a love song. That wasn’t hard to understand.

He had a sense of jealousy. It was clear the lyrics wasn’t about him. A past one, maybe. It wasn’t Billy Taupe. He had Lucy Gray. So who could you mentioned?

He was bloodthirsty. Or at least, had a taste for violence. He’d never say it or admit it. It was like he was a rebel. And he hated rebels.

But that didn’t stop him from feeling this way. As you danced and sang a little. Coriolanus defended his behavior, he was being protective of you. That nobody would hurt you.

He had fallen way too deep. And he was aware. You might feel the same about him, just as equally obsessed as he was. But that night, he wasn’t looking for trouble. Not much, anyway.

Someone stood beside him, admiring your singing. “Peacekeeper, huh? The male laughed. Coriolanus turns.”Yeah. Punishment. Not a choice.”

“She’s always been a singer, the male explained.”didn’t have much faith.” He wanted to know how the male knew that.

“How do you know? Coriolanus asked, curiously. “She wrote that song about me, the male bragged and seemed proud.”One of these days she’ll get back together with me.”

You never mentioned your ex lover much. Only that he hurt you, and that he was still infatuated. You were right about that.

“She isn’t interested, Coriolanus says, coldly. His fists clenched, along with his jaw, both from the rage he was feeling.

Maybe it was his narcissistic tendencies that were showing. A feeling of shame. A feeling that, he was superior than the male standing in front of him. He’d do so much better.

And with that, he swung. He could’ve shot him. But it was the easy way. And he didn’t deserve the easy way. His blood thirst took over a little, and like Bobbin, didn’t know how far his strength would go.

He stands back, his knuckles bleeding and blood on his uniform he’d have to explain later. Maybe it was a mistake coming to visit you. Your singing had stopped.

He pants. What had he done? Standing over the body, Coriolanus realized what he truly had done. And what could he do? He didn’t want a career as a peacekeeper; but his future would be damaged even further. He had to do something.

The Lake.

It brought him good memories. Swimming alongside you and the covey. But he’d have to hide the body somewhere.

It took a lot of his strength; but didn’t wear him out to drag him to the lake. It wouldn’t be too hard hiding evidence. His body would eventually disappear and Coriolanus doubted anybody cared about him. You didn’t anymore.

And he just watched. After the blood washed off, He walked away. He left the Seam. He'd come back. But You'd be aware of it.

Morning came, and peacekeepers came knocking at your door. The whole morning was a mess. When you did eventually meet up with Coriolanus, you decided on telling him about it.

“Did you know? She asked.”I’m assuming every peacekeeper knew. The guy I used to go out with was murdered. Found in the lake.”

“We were informed today, but I wasn’t the one who found it, He lies. He did not like lying, but he had to. He held a tight grip on you.

And he wasn’t letting you go.

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #fem!reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #reader insert #tw obsession #tw yandere #yandere coriolanus snow

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seireiteihellbutterfly · 4 months

Note

Hello! I was wondering, if you'd like, could you write a hc for Toshiro, Shinji and Shunsui (and if you'd like to add any other characters), dealing with a fem!reader who just won't confess her love, even though it's very obvious? It can be fluff or smut, whatever you prefer. I would love to see what you come up with! Thank you very much in advance! 💗

Bleach Men and Shy Reader

Hello! Sorry it took me a while to get to this! I'm always struggling to keep characterization accurate which is why this took forever. I love this request btw. So I just didn't get a HC feel for this because I felt like half the fun was in the dialogue of getting reader to confess. So I wrote scenarios instead. Hope you don't mind! ^_^' All fluff, slightly suggestive at places but mostly harmless.

icons by @/pfpanimes and @/xoxomyseriesxoxo

Toshiro (aged up)

"Y/n, I think we're good. We got all the information we need."

Toshiro runs a hand through his hair, his sharp blue eyes narrowing as he takes in their surroundings one last time. Their surveying mission had gone well and he was hoping to get back to Soul Society before the sun sets.

"Y/n...?"

He looks around, then his face turns into a look of exasperation as he sees you petting Hyorinmaru like a puppy. Even Hyorinamru seemed to be enjoying the attention, eyes closed, making a loud rumbling noise which he supposed could be comparable to a cat purring.

You were some distance away so he starts to walk over to you as you press your forehead against the large ice dragon's face. It was perplexing why Hyorinmaru behaved the way he did around you, but of course, zanpakuto were mainifestations of their owners. Hitsugaya's face relaxed slighty and took on a softer expression as you continued to play with Hyorinmaru. He was also uncomfortably aware of the way his heart beat a little faster when you were around. Perhaps that's why his zanpakuto behaved similarly.

You were cooing at the large blue dragon. "You're such a good boy. The best ice dwagon...yes..."

You press a kiss to Hyorinmaru's face. Softly, you then say, "I wonder if Hitsugaya taicho feels it when I kiss you..."

Hitsugaya freezes, wondering if he should say something. He didn't feel it, but wouldn't it be wondrous if he could?

"Y/n," he calls out, making you jump. Your face turns red, and you quickly try to compose yourself.

"Hitsugaya taicho! I apologize, I didn't hear you. Are we done with our mission?"

"Yes...I believe we are." He hesitates before saying, "What were you telling Hyorinmaru before?"

You feel your heart racing and try to brush off his question. "It's nothing! I was just being silly. He's a very sweet dragon."

"Yes, I suppose he can be..."

A moment of awkward silence passes between you both before you say, "We'd better get back to Soul Society huh?" Trying to pass over your awkward exchange, you slip past Hitsugaya and start walking back. Hyorinmaru vanishes a minute later as Hitsugaya follows you.

After a few minutes, Hitsugaya quietly says, "I can't feel it."

Your heart skips a beat. Surely you must have heard wrong. "I'm sorry, what?"

"I can't feel it when you kiss Hyorinmaru."

A jolt of electricty runs through you. Had he heard that?! "Oh, well good. That would have been weird."

"Yeah I guess so...but...would it be a bad thing?"

"Would what be a bad thing?"

"If I could feel it."

You feel like your heart may leap out of your chest. A nervous laugh bubbles out of you. "Well you can't so...I guess we'll never know!"

"I mean you could just tell me."

Your words catch in your throat. When you talk again, they come out shaky. "Tell you what?"

"If it's good or bad."

A very palpable, tense, moment lingers between both of you. All that can be heard is the rustling of your robes and your footsteps as the both of you continue to walk.

"I guess...it wouldn't be...too bad, right?" You offer.

"No, I don't think it would be." Hitsugaya looks directly at you. "Those words weren't meant for Hyorinmaru to hear excusively were they?"

You look away. "Well I wasn't saying it out loud intentionally if that's what you mean."

"What's the worst that could've happened? If you had said those words to me?"

"You may have gotten the wrong impression of me..."

"Wrong impression? So you don't like me?"

Well you had kind stepped right into that question. "I...I..."

Why was it so hard to admit your feelings? Your eyes squeeze shut.

"Hey, y/n. It's ok." Hitsugaya pats your shoulder reassuringly. "How about this? I'll bring out Hyorinmaru. You can tell him whatever you want. If that makes it easier."

You look at him with gratitude in your eyes. You knew you weren't getting out of this one until Hitsugaya had a satisfactory answer.

With a small swish of reiatsu, Hyorinmaru appears in front of you. You look into the striking blue eyes of the dragon, so similar to its owner, and take its face between your hands.

"Hey Hyorinmaru," you say softly. "So, I just wanted to say. I think I like someone, and he knows it. But...I'm scared to admit my feelings because...deep down...I feel like he's worthy of someone more talented and special. So if you have an answer to this, please let me know."

Warm hands wrap around your waist and to your surprise, Hitsugaya pulls you against him, resting his cheek on the back of your head.

"Is this enough for an answer?"

You take a deep breath, cheeks pink as a peach.

"Yeah. More than enough."

Shinji

You and Shinji trudged back to his quarters after a particularly tiring mission. It wasn't uncommon for you recuperate in his quarters because his place was simply the closest to the gate when getting back into the Seiretei. And after a long gruelling mission, questions about appropriateness get tossed out the window.

Your muscles ache and you feel your reiatsu pulse as you force yourself to walk. The comforting feeling of the courtyards near Shinji's quarters fill your senses.

"Not too far along now y/n. You can shower first this time."

You look at Shinji side eyed, remembering how the last time he'd hidden the soap when you had made a dash to the bathroom to shower first.

Clearly he was remembering it too because he smirks at you and says, "How about next time, you bring your own soap, you freeloader?"

"I'm a rookie shinigami, taicho. I hardly make enough to afford luxuries like soap." You respond sarcastically.

"You just wanna use mine because you like the way I smell. Admit it. You get off on having my scent on your skin." Shinji says teasingly, giving you a shit-eating grin.

The color rises in your face and you look away. It was true but you couldn't admit that. Instead you say, "As if. Like I enjoy smelling like your cheap deodarant."

"And how would you know my deodarant smells cheap? Have you been going through my toiletries y/n? Like some kind of pervert?" Shinji nudges you playfully.

"Why I might have to start hiding my boxers, in case I find you in my room sniffing around at night."

"Eeewww," you say, wrinkling your nose. You start to walk faster so that you're ahead of him, not wanting him to see how fantastically red your face is getting.

Chuckling, Shinji sprints after you, grabbing the back of your shihakusho, and bringing you to his side, arm draping possessively around your shoulders so that you can't move.

"Taicho," you say through gritted teeth. "What would happen if someone sees us this way? It's very unbecoming of a captain."

"Strange, I don't seem to recall you saying that whenever you crash at my place after a mission." Shinji stops walking and turns so that he's facing you, blocking your way, a hand on each of your shoulders.

You can't look at him now, and drop your gaze. "That's...different. I sleep in your spare bedroom. We both know that and would say the same. But this kind of behavior...out here in the open...someone might mistake us..."

"Mistake us how exactly?" Shinji presses, not relenting at the fact that you're barely able to keep your head up now. "Mistake us as...lovers?"

He drawls the last word and you squeeze your eyes shut. Your heart races and you can't seem to think of a comeback. He was so close to you and his hands were holding on tight.

"N-no," you stammer, trying to keep calm.

"No? What else could they mistake us for that's gotten you so red?" Shinji takes a step closer to you and grasps your chin, lifting you face up to look at his. Helpless, you look into his brown eyes which are looking at yours with amusement.

When you fail to reply, he continues. "There's plenty of reasons they could mistake us for lovers, y/n. I mean, we cuddle on the couch."

"That's because-"

"We've eaten together so many times I've lost count." He barrels over your objection. "Your toothbrush is in a cup on my bathroom counter. Do I need to keep giving you more examples about how unconventional our relationship is? It definitely isn't a captain-subordinate one anymore."

Caught, you try to jerk your face out of his grip which only tightens. "Well, doll? Because if I didn't know any better, I'd say you're living with me, but you seem to be trying to convince yourself otherwise."

"I-that's-" you sputter, trying to retort. "How about the fact that we don't feel that way about each other? Doesn't that count for anything?" you say desperately, hoping for a final chance to keep your heart from getting hurt.

Shinji's expression changes from amusement to thoughfulness. "Don't feel that way about each other...hmm...so...why am I teasing you this way? Why do I allow you to cuddle up to me when we're watching TV? Why am I here, forcing you to look at me, and making my intentions known if I don't feel that way about you?"

Your heart skips a beat and you quit struggling. He couldn't possibly...?

"And why are you blushing so much when I say all this? Why haven't you stopped looking at my lips this whole time?" His voice becomes a soft timbre and his hands drop from your shoulders to your waist, pulling you closer to him. "Why are you so resistant to what you're feeling towards me?"

Your chest swells with emotion as his words wash over you. For the longest time, you'd hidden your feelings, hoping he wouldn't notice. Because how embarrssing and cliche? A subordinate falling for her captain?

"I...may...like you as more...than my captain..." You admit grudgingly.

"There we go. Now was that so hard?" Shinji rests his thumbs on your cheeks, stroking gently. "For the record, I'm not playing around. I'm serious."

You peek up at him. "Promise?"

"Well...I'm not a fan of making promises I can't keep- OUCH!" Shinji lets out a yelp of pain as you shove him hard in the ribs before scurrying off towards his quarters.

Humbled, he quickly chases after you. "Y/n! I am dead serious! I didn't mean to hurt your feelings!"

When he hears you laughing, his eyes narrow.

"Very well then doll...I suppose I'll have to torture the confession out of you while hiding the soap again...maybe this time after you've gotten in the shower..."

Shunsui

Your eyes roam over the voluptous shinigami talking to Shunsui. He certainly seems to have a type. You sigh and try to focus on your own work. Being an aide to Shunsui has been insightful in terms of getting experience but also an eye-opening period where you would see how many women seem to sidle up to him for attention.

Shunsui chuckles at the woman before she saunters out, hips swaying. He fixes his hat and stretches, the neck of his shihakusho slipping down to reveal his toned pecs.

Such a slut you think to yourself as you try to finish your paperwork. Although, truth be told, you weren't sure if that was entirely true. Women went up to him all the time, sure. How many of those women made it back to his quarters was another question entirely. Not as many as people thought, according to Nanao.

Shunsui glances over at you, a cheeky smile widening over his face. "Enjoying the view?" he teases, as you suddenly flush, realizing you'd been staring shamelessly at his chest for the past minute.

"N-no," you stammer. "Just wondering how brazen you must be to have your shihakusho practically untied while in the office."

"Not as brazen as my subordinate who's been visually feeling me up," he shoots back with a wink.

You quickly look back to your paperwork. Was it your fault he was an attractive looking man for his age? You heart thuds in your chest and you take a deep breath to calm down. This does not go unnoticed by Kyoraku who puts his face on his palm, leaning on his desk looking at you.

"Let's get a drink tonight."

Surely you misheard him. "...What?"

"I know you heard me y/n." He chuckles, a rich, low, rumble emanating from his throat. "And based on what I've seen, I think you've imagined more than having a drink with me."

Your throat goes dry. "You got that...from a one-off look?" Your words come out like a croak.

"Well darling, you've been making eyes at me all evening. Thought I'd save you the trouble." He gets up from the desk and wanders over towards you.

Your brain goes into panic mode. "I-I can't. Busy today."

"Ah hm...I see." Shunsui says in that lazy way, getting closer to you. "Busy. So very busy. Tell me. What plans do you have tonight that you're too busy to get a drink with your captain?"

Your mind blanks out at his question. Seeing the look of disarray on your face, Shunsui offers you a sympathetic pat. "I can give you a minute if you need to come up with an excuse. Maybe pretend to watch the birds outside?"

Your cheeks burn at his suggestion. "Unnecessary. Clearly I don't have one. Apart from I don't want to."

"Now why's that? I like you, and you seem to return the feeling. I've been around long enough to know when a woman is interested in me. So what's the problem?"

"I'm your subordinate. And with your reputation I don't wish to be another statistic in your book."

"Statistic?" Shunsui looks at you with sharp eyes. "Darling, how many women do you think I've been with?"

"I don't know. 2000 years is a long time."

He looks stunned at your words then sighs deeply. "I don't know what you're thinking, but I'm not thinking of making you a 'statistic'. I actually like you."

Your heart races. "Say that again."

"I like you. I'm not too proud to hide how I feel. Now how about you stop insulting me and admit you like me too?"

You take a deep breath. "I'll have a drink with you."

"Well that's a start I suppose."

"And tie up your damn shihakusho."

"And miss the chance to have you stare at me all night?" Shunsui's eyes glitter with mischief. "I think not."

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sexydoffyman · 7 months

Note

i dunno if you write for philip graves but is it alright if you wrote him for jealous or possessive sex with a gn reader?

day 26 - JELAOUS SEX

Phillip Graves

navigation

genre: smut

mdni

(Reader pretends to be a lady for a mission but still g/n)

You always loved messing with him. Him having such a high position really helped you with getting on his nerves. All it took was a single smile at a shadow and boom he's riled up. Of course, he knew basic social manners and understood that sometimes you just have to be overly nice.

Your job was what angered him more than anything. You were always sitting on the lap of some sixty-year-old fuck to distract him or get some intel. Some ass put you up to that job because he was angry at Graves. He tried to talk with his superiors, but they all declined your change of positions.

How could they deny such an offer? You were like a magnet to dudes who haven't been able to fuck for a while. Your feminine features helped with your job since it was easy to disguise as a lady of their dreams.

You had gotten into an argument with Graves and just wanted to get back at him. He scared the shit out of you during the last mission. You almost stabbed him in the neck when he sneaked up on you. You lectured him about how what he did was dangerous as fuck. He didn't take you seriously at all. He just brushed you off and went to do whatever he was doing before you chewed him out.

He took something that you found really important so lightly, so why not do the exact same thing. Graves found some businessman that had some intel and that's where you came in. When you got into the nightclub that you were informed about, you immediately spotted your target.

Your mission was simple. Get in, get the man drunk, get the intel, leave. What you decided to do was to play with him before you actually got him drunk. You sat down next to him and smiled all flirty-like. He looked at you, waiting for you to talk. "You look pretty evil." He laughed at your words. You definitely got his attention.

You chatted with him for a while, with Graves listening in with a wire. He was not only listening, but he was also watching you like a hawk. The man slipped his hand on your butt. You giggled and asked him, "I have a boyfriend, you know." You put your hand on his chest.

"What a naughty lady you are~" He smirked at you as he pulled you into his lap. Graves immediately realized why were you doing this, but he only shrugged it off, being a little agitated. He reminded you about the mission with the earpiece that was hidden in your earring. What you did instead was flirt with the businessman.

He snuck his hand under your skirt. You eventually got him drunk and got the intel. But you still sneaked in some kisses... and a little bit of making out.

You ended up walking out of the club and meeting with a shadow. You passed the gathered information onto him. He did too, give you some information. "Commander is furious." "That's what I hoped for." You responded. He showed you the way to a car and drove both of you to the base.

You already saw him at the gate waiting for you. You got out of the car, smiling at him. "Come here." He sounded aggravated, for sure. It made you feel happy. You were in his room together as he was showing you his anger. "Common, it's nothing." You said the same words he said to you.

He knew damn well you wanted to make him mad. But you've crossed the line a little bit. And by a little bit, I mean a whole fucking lot. You only giggled, sealing your fate.

He was done with you. He grabbed you by the arm and pulled you onto the bed. He was soon above you. Lust filled his eyes as he kissed you while pushing you down into the mattress. He pushed your hips up your crotches, meeting you could already feel his hard-on.

His kisses got sloppy, going all over your body. He had the image of you and that man in his head. He wanted to blast his head off. You tried to get a little flirty with him by caressing his back with your hands. Unfortunately, he pushed them away and pined them above your head.

"You adorable piece of shit." He was furious, and he knew you liked that. He hurriedly took off your pants, revealing your bare body to him. He was always passionate, but this time it was different. He wanted to be rough with you.

He spread your legs and put them on his shoulders. He didn't hesitate to enter you the moment he saw you had your guard down. He was usually nice and gentle. So him being rough right off the bat was a surprise.

He laughed angrily, groaning into your neck. He wanted to do something to you, but you were just too nice to hurt. You did make him jealous on purpose, but he still loved you with all his heart. He decided that being a little rougher with you won't hurt.

You whined into his ear. Oh, how he loved that. He loved how much his actions impacted you. Even those little moans made him feel so good. You were completely out of control of the situation. He could do anything to you as he pleased. The thrill of the situation made you want him to do so.

He had you exactly where he wanted as he thrusted into you. His powerful hips slamming into the ones of yours. You became a mess under him. Just how he liked it.

He was gonna have a lot of fun with you tonight.

#cod x you #cod x male reader #cod x reader #cod mw2 #call of duty #philip graves #graves #philip graves x reader #graves x reader #graves x you #graves x male reader #graves x female reader #cod x gn!reader #cod x female reader #philip graves smut #graves smut #cod kinktober #kinktober #kinktober 2023

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silverzoomies · 3 months

Text

Summer Wind

tate langdon x reader smut

warnings: existential crisis, death, afterlife, implied/referenced character death, murder, angst, aged-up tate langdon, fingering, fingerfucking, kissing, canon divergence

word count: 4,690

a/n: another drabble. y'know that thing people do sometimes? where they "age-up" a character, but don't really age them up? i initially wrote this in response to that. but it somehow turned into a means of venting my existential terror instead. i was gonna include more smut. but tbh i didn't feel right about it. this one's gonna stay unfinished. sorry about the abrupt ending !!

inspired by the song summer wind by frank sinatra

You were dead for an indiscernible span of time.

You couldn't be sure how long. But you suspected a few years, at least. Through one of the top floor windows of your eternal purgatory; you watched the trees. Nature alternated between skeletal displays of branches, to vibrant arrays of color. Withered. Blooming. Withered. Blooming. Withered. Blooming again. Rinse and repeat.

Once you accepted your fate, things started clicking into place. Trapped in a vintage hotbox of murder, you put together the pieces of a long lost puzzle. And though some parts were still absent, you pushed yourself to move on. You might never figure out how you died, or who you were before. But to worry so much would be senseless at this point.

Through acceptance, you began to feel again. If only in small bursts. Abrupt, but worth cherishing.

One memory remained ever present. You had the sense you were a school guidance counselor in life. And in death, you took up the mantle again. Offering your services to the other souls lost in the house. One of the ghostly residents shared a similar occupation. Way back in his breathing years. He didn’t do it so much anymore. Instead, he spent time with his family, working towards redemption for his past actions.

You steered clear of most residents, fearful of their unpredictable episodes of bloodlust. They allowed the evil within the house to lure them further into madness. On the days they came to you for your services, you spoke to them in hopes they’d find absolution. Change in the afterlife was extremely difficult to achieve. Your 'clients' rarely ever scratched the surface of their tainted psyches. And any progress they made, they always resorted to their old habits in the end.

Only one of them ever found true change. Of course, he had to be the most wretched of them all.

You once felt sympathy for Tate, making excuses on his behalf. In the years when his heart still pumped blood through his veins; he was young. Misguided. Perhaps the pressures of his upbringing took too much of a toll on him. And in the afterlife, he suffered under the influence of the house itself. The evil buried deep within channeled through his broken soul.

But if such an evil did exist, it never took hold of you. Nor did it sink its venomous teeth into Violet, or her innocent mother, or that pure of heart baby, or even Ben Harmon himself - sinful a man as he was. They resisted, and so did you.

Tate was pure evil. Carnage incarnate. Maybe that made him susceptible to the influence of dark forces. But after talking with him for a few years, you accepted him for what he was. Foul from birth, deplorable in death. No matter how often you tried guiding him to goodness, he remained forever loathsome. The evil in him burned eternally, needing no kindling.

His own acceptance of that fact allowed him to change. In a more physical way, much like Moira. Tate embraced his fate, convinced the house was where he belonged. A punishment until the end of all things. Simultaneously, a safe haven from whatever lay in waiting after purgatory. Tate’s progress was very much real. Albeit, not the kind you aimed for.

You could see his growth in his features, rather than his morals. Sitting across from you during another weekly session, Tate fidgeted with a frayed hole in his jeans. With his blond brows creased, he stared down at the denim. As you watched him like this, you picked apart his finer details. Where his skin once beamed with the pale, ghostly image of youth; creases were now etched in. Faint, but noticeable lines curved under his eyes.

An aura of maturity emanated from him like a light much too dim. Tate carried the same mannerisms from his heyday - if one could even call it that. But he had long since graduated from his mentality of that era. Tate spoke of his past actions as if he regretted them, though you suspected he felt no real remorse. He used to cry all the time. He used to throw childish tantrums. But you couldn’t remember the last time you saw his soulless, black eyes water. Now…

He carried nothing but cold desolation. Common amongst those trapped in perpetual limbo.

“I saw her again today.” He admitted, his lidded eyes flitting up to meet yours, “She hasn’t changed any. Not like me. Not like…” Tate made a gesture at his face, his thumb grazing the angular shape of his jaw. Tiredly, he blinked, “Not like this. Fate’s a funny thing, isn’t it? I always thought we were fated to be together forever, but…”

On the sofa across from him, you kept your cheek perched in a hand. As you scribbled in your notebook, you took note of the way Tate’s features bled misery. All at the mention of her. It must have been painful for him, watching her stay the same. While he finally outgrew himself. Those changes only further separated the two of them. Obliterating any chance he had to make amends. If there ever was.

There especially wouldn’t be now. Even Tate was on the tailend of coming to terms with it.

“How’d it make you feel this time around?” You pressed in a soft tone, shifting on the couch. His dark hues zeroed in on your thighs, bare in a simple dress. The lining appeared cheap, glittering with sequins reminiscent of childhood nostalgia, “When you saw her?”

“Fuckin’...I dunno…” Tate put his face in his vascular hands, fingers curling into his hair, “She’s like a kid to me anymore. What am I supposed to think?”

“Maybe she’s content like that. In the same way you’re content the way you are now.” You shrugged, tenderly laughing, “Maybe teenage angst suits her that much.”

He shook his head, shifting from a criss cross position on the loveseat across from you. Bouncing a leg, Tate gave you a pointed look. His brows turned downward.

“We thought it fit me too, didn’t we? But look at me now."

You were. You were looking at him a lot. And he wasn't wrong. Teenage angst once paired well with Tate's immature nature. Back when he thought like a kid, and acted on impulse. These days, he'd become more lethargic. When he wasn’t consumed with blood lust. Rugged virility was his partner now. Coupled with the melancholy existentialism of a man pushing thirty.

“You wanted to move on.” You clarified, your teeth clicking the edge of a pen at your lips.

“Did I?” Tate bitterly laughed, the empty vacuums of his eyes caught your tongue in motion, “Doesn't seem like anyone else here wants to. ‘Cept Moira.”

“Well, they only think they can’t. They believe they’re tethered here, frozen in time at their moment of death. I used to think growth was impossible too. Until you��”

You took in his masculine features again. The scruff around his chin. So fair, and not too noticeable. Catching yourself in the midst of ogling him, you redirected your gaze to Tate’s eyes. Imposing. Starless. Easy to get lost in. He wasn’t ignorant to your attraction. A hint of grin pulled into his laugh lines and dimples.

“Does it scare you?” He asked, “What’s your excuse then?” Tate threw a condescending nod of his head, “If you’re so enlightened. If you know better than all of us - with your morals ‘n bullshit like that. Why haven’t you changed any since you died?"

Shrugging, you looked bashfully down at your notes.

“Why would I want to? If I can stay young for eternity. If I can keep these curves, and what’s left of my youth. What’s the point in growing older?” You admitted in truth.

“That’s a little superficial though, isn’t it?” Tate leaned back into the loveseat cushions, “Shit like that doesn’t matter here. Who are you tryna impress? And what’s anybody living gonna think? When they meet you, and find out you’re nothin’ but food for maggots now.” He teased, legs spread, one knee bouncing, “There’s gotta be another reason you haven’t moved on. You’re not like us. I dunno why you and the Harmons don’t just…y’know…go.” He trailed off, his gaze falling to his lap.

You saw his bitterness return in full force. Another miserable wave of longing washed over him. Yearning for something that didn’t exist anymore, and never would again.

“I…” You paused, doodling hasty flowers in your notebook. You avoided Tate’s eyes, “I wanna know how I died first. I wanna know who I was. Before I even consider moving on.”

Sinister acidity flashed through his vision, “Seriously? That’s what’s stopping you?” Tate huffed a harsh laugh, admitting without missing a beat, “You wanna know how you died? I’ll tell you. I stuck a knife in your back and stabbed you to death.” He confessed, monotone, “You know it too. You’ve known since we met. You’ve just been in denial this whole time.”

You sat up in an abrupt movement, scooting forward and tossing your notebook away.

“What?! What are you even talking ab-…I’ve been trying to figure this out for years, Tate! Years!” You threw out your hands, “You…you can’t be serious! Why would I be in denial about something like that??”

Tears of betrayal stung the corners of your eyes. Tate shrugged, seemingly unbothered. He crossed his arms, his eyes dark under the ridges of his brows.

“‘Cuz you feel bad for me. Or…uhm…you wanna feel bad for me.” He shrugged again, “Fuck if I know why. I’m the last guy you should have sympathy for.” Tate said, his black hues narrowing in thought.

“You didn’t…did you really stab me? Really? You’re not lying about that?” You almost shouted, clawing your fingers through your hair, “Please. Please tell me you’re lying!”

Tate appeared unfazed, ignoring you, “Do you love me or something? Is that why you’re so broken up about this?” He asked, desperate in his infinite search for validation.

“Why the fuck would you stab me?!” You shouted, full of wrathful turmoil.

You stood off the couch, surging toward him with your fists balled at your sides. Tate didn’t flinch. He pursed his lips, thoughtful again. With an insufferable aura of nonchalance, he shrugged once more.

“Wanted to.”

The blank emptiness in his expression told you everything you already knew. Tears streamed down your face, painting your cheeks and chin in damp threads.

“Where? Where did you stab me??”

Tate gestured with a nod of his head, towards the only window in the room. A summer breeze fluttered, catching the curtains in its dance. You wanted to find the radiant light of nature beautiful again. But it only served as a haunting reminder - the environment remained symbiotic with time. And you were forever left behind.

“Over there. By that window.” He said, watching you pad over to said window, the skirt of your dress fluttering.

The window. In the one room you always felt so drawn to, for reasons unknown. Now, you knew. Bracing your hands on the windowsill, you peered your head outside. Ghosting your skin, the air breathed an essence of life. Something you were no longer a part of. You used to be content with that fact. But now? Knowing your life was unfairly ripped from you, how could you ever move on? Your death wasn’t an accident. Nor had an irreversible illness seized your physical form. Just Tate.

His low voice droned from behind you and in your ear. A faint vibration followed, along with a presence at your back. You felt the soft texture of his sweater, but no body heat with it. One of his icy hands met your shoulder. He reached his other arm out. Tate pointed to a spot near the entrance gates.

“I didn’t wanna tell you. Because I didn’t wanna lose you too. But…” He paused for a beat, “It was on Halloween. Ten years or so years ago, I guess. I was gonna leave. Make my rounds. Y’know…like I used to. The house was-uh...up for grabs back then. You came up to the door. One of the kids here opened it for you. And you kinda...walked in. Tried lookin' for 'em. Wrong place, wrong time.” Tate lowered both his hands to yours, after sliding his fingers down the sides of your arms, “You were holdin’ hands with some kid the whole time. He had to be, like…seven? Eight? I don’t even remember what his costume was.” His lips curved in a grin, “But I still remember yours.”

Your fingers curled into the sill, scraping wood, indenting the paint.

Ten years.

“So, you stabbed me in front of a child?”

Another breeze blew by. The steady air picked up your dress with it, flitting delicate fabric. Glitter along the seams of it fell away, sparkling like microscopic crystallites in the wind. Tate’s long fingers drew patterns over the cold surface of your skin. Tracing infinity symbols onto your hands.

“Rapunzel.” He whispered, “That dress was kinda pretty on you. Sucks about all the blood.”

You remembered then. When death imbued you with unexpected consciousness, you wandered around the house in a blood-stained dress. And ever since, your afterlife wardrobe alternated only between dresses of similar styles. Always cheap fabrics. Decorated in craft materials. You assumed you must’ve loved playing dress up in life. The thought of perishing in a store bought Halloween costume never crossed your mind.

“Who was he?”

You sniffled, breath hitching without any need for oxygen. Tate brought a hand to your cheek, wiping away your tears. He loomed behind you. A cold-blooded apparition of your nightmares. His casual talk of violent depravity made your blood boil.

“Who, the kid?” He asked.

He lowered his hands to the sill. Looking out the window over your shoulder, Tate squinted in the sunlight.

“Yes! I don’t-” You burst into tears without warning, sobbing into your hands, “I-I don’t remember anything! Nothing! I had no idea…who was he??”

“Dunno…” he dropped his head, pressing his cheek to your hair, “I didn’t really stop to ask. He ran away. Right after I pushed you out of this window.”

“You pushed m-what?! You’re a fucking monster.” You whimpered. Wishing you could leap out and disappear with the oscillation of the wind, “You know you’re never getting out of here, don’t you? You’re never going to change, Tate. You’ll always be a monster.”

“Probably.” He droned, wrapping his arms around your middle. Pulling you closer, he added, “You’ll be stuck here too. If you don’t let go of that anger. If you let your rage consume you. All that bitterness and hatred. This house feeds off of it.” Another pause. He nuzzled the top of your head with his cheek, “Uhm…I know this won’t fix anything. But…I really am sorry I took your life from you.”

You huffed, staring teary eyed out the window. Taking in the vast, effervescent world you’d never be a part of - through the border that brought your demise.

“But I’m really stoked you’re here….’cuz it’s not as lonely with you around.” He admitted.

“I could always tell you to fuck off.” You choked, venomous in your revulsion.

“Yeah. You could. But you won’t.” He grabbed your arms with gentle hands, wheeling you around to face him. He took your tiny fingers in his palms. You refused to meet his eyes, “If you made me disappear, you wouldn’t have anybody.”

You decided to hit him where it hurt, strangling through tears, “I could always talk to Violet. She has such a good heart. Not like the rest of you. You’re all just…awful. So horrible and cruel!”

Tate clenched his jaw, dropping his forehead into yours.

“You’re right. She’s not.” He woefully mumbled, “How come I still miss her, huh? Been missin’ what we had for, like…forever. Now I’m pushin’ you away too. And you’re all I have left.”

“Maybe stop killing people, Tate?” You snuffed, tears catching your eyelashes. He wiped them away all the same, “Who knew death could be so miserable. I…I finally found out the one thing I’ve wanted to know after all these years. I thought a little closure might help me, but…” You cried, “I feel even more messed up.”

“Why? Do you love me?” He pressed with so little confidence, you felt he only said it to convince himself.

“I…” You hesitated, brows furrowed, “I cared about you. Even though you’re a lunatic. I wanted to give you a chance. But now…now I just want to shove you out this window like you did to me. I want to scream at you, Tate! I want to make you suffer! I want to-”

He shifted closer. Within this vicinity, his maturation became all the more clear. Your weeping hues glazed over the creases under his eyes. The blond bangs of his hair had thinned by a smidgen, losing its youthful shagginess. He was all fine lines and outward exhaustion. Had you met him like this in life, you’d think him a mere decade away from a mid-life crisis.

“Go ahead. If it helps. I don’t mind.” He reached down again, grabbing your hands and guiding them up to his chest, “Just let all that rage go…you can take it out on me.”

This was just another tactic of his. An attempt to appease you, in desperate hopes you’d forgive him. Still, you didn’t think twice. Whatever wrathful anguish you kept buried inside finally erupted. The soul crushing weight of loss tumbled down over you, sending you into a frenzy. You thrashed your arms, throwing your fists in shallow, but sharp strikes. Battering against Tate’s chest, you landed every blow - inspired by betrayal. He remained still, watching you with a hollow look.

Hits turned to scratches as your grief took hold of you. You clawed into Tate’s sweater, wailing, powerless to the pain of his disloyalty. Taken aback by your overwhelming emotions, you wondered how the afterlife could bring so much suffering. Tate wrapped his arms around you again, and you buried your nose in his sweater. Your sorrowful tears stained the stitching.

“I hate you. So much. So fucking much.” You whimpered.

“You said you cared about me.”

“I hate that I care about you.” You cried, sobbing into his sweater, “I-I want to hate you. I need to hate you. But you’re right. You’re fucking vile, and you’re right. If you were gone, I wouldn’t have anybody else.”

Shifting again, he tilted your head up with a cold hand under your chin. Tate stared down at you, weary with lonesome desolation. The endless monotony of purgatory brought forth nothing but turmoil. And that turmoil linked you both in all-consuming angst. When he dove in to kiss your lips, you allowed it. If only to feel something far less painful.

Tate hadn’t kissed anyone in over a decade. But he flowed naturally with you, wary of applying too much pressure. The last of your tears fell, and again, he wiped them away. Separation came slow, as he parted from your lips. He blinked, leering like he couldn’t believe you reciprocated. Another beat, and he dove in all over again.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered.

Kissing in your ghostly state felt bleak as the dull air of winter. In the throes of lonesome yearning, death nuzzled death so intimately. You opened yourself up for him, moving back until you hit the windowsill. In your negligence, you sat on it. A calm, easy breeze enveloped your back, tickling your neck. His desirous kisses swallowed you in, his hands claiming your cheeks.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” He mumbled, his words weaving through every kiss.

Fate had yet to deliver you closeness of this kind. You couldn’t fathom how intimate connectedness might work in death. As Tate’s cold lips fell to your neck, the atmosphere between the two of you shifted. Something akin to the radiance of life saturated the air. Like the summer’s glow shining from outside. A few seconds more, and coldness turned to heat. Sensual heat.

“What does it feel like?” You asked, breathless without the need for air. You tipped your head back. Tate took this as an invitation to ravish more of you, “To make love after dying?”

The glossy warmth of his tongue painted gradual lines across your neck. He caressed you with a thumb, gliding the digit over your cheek. Under the newfound heat of his palm, you felt burning intensity. No one else brought you physical touch like this. Not since a time before you perished, so long ago.

All because of him.

“Feels kinda the same?” Tate muttered in a hushed voice. Capturing your lips again, he kissed you with cautious tenderness, “It’s a lot like being alive…from what I remember. Some of us get addicted to it. Like a drug. They suffer without it. Drives ‘em crazy.”

His forehead fell to yours once more, and Tate’s eyes fluttered shut. He continued stroking your cheek, cradling your face. As if you’d disappear once he let go. You noticed the way his chest heaved. Slowly, like his lungs were still infused with the essence of life. But when he moved in for another kiss, you felt no breath on your lips.

“Does it drive you crazy?” You whispered between kisses, “Do you suffer without it?”

“Not really.” He said, dragging his thumb over your lip, “Missed this, though. I miss it all the time.”

“What? Kissing?”

Tate nodded, blond brows creasing as his smile faded. For a beat or two more, he fell silent. Staring down into your eyes with all the liveliness of a barren void. You gazed into a cave-like abyss, lost with no light to guide you. Beckoned by the promise of something unseen.

“This feels…different…with you.” He whispered.

“Different how?” You shivered as his soft touches moved elsewhere, "Are you feeling guilty? Does it hurt? I hope it fucking hurts."

Dragging the tips of his fingers up and down your arms, he drew invisible lines with his nails. So careful. Like you’d shatter if he treated you too roughly. His palms settled over your hips, and again, he kissed you. Tate just couldn’t seem to stop doing so, even as you spoke to him with poison on your tongue.

“No. It’s warmer.” He squeezed your hips a little tighter, “Why…why’s it so warm with you?”

The initial kisses between you both were so frigid and lifeless. But now, somehow, so heated and real. You locked your legs around his hips, crossing your ankles. Inviting him forward, you loomed in the sill of the window. Your body tilted. In the arms of the summer’s air, you almost fell backwards. You had every reason to believe Tate would let you plummet.

But he didn’t. Not this time.

With an arm wrapped around your waist, he kept you from slipping. Under your dress, his free hand sought the heat between your legs. His palm cradled warmth over thin cloth. Discreetly, he pressed the pads of his fingers to your sex over your panties. And the contact amplified a scorching fire within you. A vigor exceeding the bitterness of death.

You wondered if Tate had less experience than he claimed in therapy. It took him a few tries before he found your clit. His sizable fingers circled your little nub in easy motions. Drawing long, needy noises out of you. Silence lingered between you both in calm, but tense quiet. Until the rasp of his voice caught your attention.

“Do you feel this? Do you feel, like…anything?”

You whimpered in response - timid like a churchmouse - as wetness stained Tate’s fingers through fabric. Cotton once so pure and untouched became damp. He chuckled, the sinister rumble in his throat making your blood run cold. Until the warmth of desire lured you in before you could second guess yourself. Savoring the hot friction on your pussy, you allowed sin to taint your clarity.

"For you? No. Never. You're sick. You're twisted. You're-" You cut yourself off with another whimper, once Tate caressed you with more pressure.

“Oh, shit…” He hastily tugged your panties down your thighs. Cupping your bare cunt, he pressed firmly into your clit. Thick digits teased the blazing heat of your folds, “You do, don’t you?”

Tate’s fingers dipped into your slick valley, his digits predominantly larger than your own. You rolled your hips just a smidgen, careful not to lose your balance - lest you fall out the window. Again. Though, maybe a rough tumble onto the lawn would knock some sense back into your muddled head. His other arm stayed iron locked around your body, keeping you safe. He eased inside you with all the hesitance of a man out of practice.

"F-Fuck! Fuck this. Fuck you." You mumbled, hushed under airy moans.

Following the squeeze of pleasure in your core, came something you lost in the afterlife. You almost felt the pumping of your dead heart again. A ghostly sensation of life blossomed under your ribs. Warmth flowed through your veins in syrupy bliss. Cozy wind billowed from outside, tickling your skin. If you closed your eyes for long enough, basking in the ecstasy of true feeling - you might’ve believed you were somehow revived.

Flitting your lashes, your eyes gradually opened. The sunny glow of afternoon light painted Tate’s aged features, showering him in golden rays. An image far too heavenly for a cold-blooded monster birthed from sin. You looked lazily into his hues. A whirlpool of guilt intermingling with lifeless cruelty; all within his dusky eyes.

“Feels like…” He mumbled, clumsily nuzzling your clit with the pad of his thumb. Biting his lip, Tate stifled a groan. He buried his fingers to the knuckle in your cunt, “...like I can feel your blood pumping.” Adding a third digit, he stretched you open. Your walls made effortless room just for him. You whined, making him smirk, “Fuck, this is hot. You love it, huh?”

"No. No. No, I'd never! Not with you. I'm just-" You swallowed, feeling your cheeks burn, "It really does feel like-"

Post-mortem coldness became lost on you now. Left behind, alongside your broken hearted resentment. Instead, you were overcome with the lively spirit of beingness. The afterlife had been so unkind to you. For a decade now. It abandoned you to stew in the longevity of solitude. With no one but Tate to provide you true company. Bringing your hands up to his cheeks, you pulled him in for a kiss. Your fingers threaded through his blond locks. Winding your tongue sloppily with his, you whined.

"Make me cum." You asserted, your legs sealing tighter around him, "Make me cum, and I might forgive you."

A flash of vulnerable sweetness overtook Tate's face, his puppydog eyes lighting up. An almighty flood of euphoria built up to a radiant crescendo, as his digits fucked you into oblivion. You clamped around his fingers, squirming with such intensity - he almost lost his hold on you. Tranquility found you at the peak of your climax. A divine miracle. As you cried little pleas into Tate’s lips, you felt as though you grew angel’s wings. As if some ethereal being descended from the heavens themselves, stole you away, and led you to the golden gates.

As you shuddered, your paradisal tremors eventually subsided. Blissful nirvana faded, and the hollow nothingness of death’s touch came again. Outside, the world continued on in slow-moving seconds. And in the distant horizon, the sun began its steady fall into night. Tate’s nose brushed yours. Looming in so close, he withdrew his drenched digits from your pussy. Leaving even more forsaken emptiness behind.

“I could…do that kinda thing for you every day…if you wanted me to.” He whispered, peppering your forehead in kisses, “It feels really good, doesn’t it? Just…please don’t make me go away? Please…”

#tate langdon x reader #tate langdon x y/n #tate langdon x you #tate langdon #american horror story #ahs

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kurosstuff · 3 months

Note

Some preening headcanons with any of the angel girls please?

Take this for now~ hope you like it!

I'm very busy this week BUT- here's my attempt

ALSO I KINDA DID MORE HEADCANONS THEN KIST PREENING- IM SORRY I KINEA- WENT OFF

Gonna do three girls with wings- sera vaggie and lute(surpise?/j) idk how to write Emily yet-

Warning(s): some angst? Insecurities(in lute and veggies parts), fluff, wing stuff, established relationships in each ones(lovers for vaggie reader is a female, drabbles(some nsfw) slighr nsfw stuff

Never wrote vaggie. Hope she's good

ALSO I DIDNR REALIZE. LUTES IS SO FUCKING LONF.

Preening headcanons(sera, vaggie, lute)

Sera

• I'm gonna say it. Out of all three ladies? She KNOWS how to preen her wings the best. Sure with six wings its more time-consuming and a pain but she knows how important it is.

Which also means she's the most willing to accept your help. Of course, only if it's you two, and she knows you enough- cause wing preening? Is a mate/very sensitive thing for angels

• and it doesn't matter if you have wings or not- shell sit patiently guiding you through how to handle her wings. Given having six is even more work. BUT also much more sensitive

"My love~ please be careful how you touch them" Sera hummed, wings flapping from your touch one eye popping out, watching you closely making you smile at it- humming in approval she closed the eye closing her main ones at the itching pain vanishing "it feels nice~" she purred out softly feeling your hands dipping between her feathers before jolting

"My love- please- you know how sensitive my wings are-" she huffed face flushed dark turning to you huffing at your knowing smirk "guess this.. will turn into something more huh sera ~?" You hummed kissing the wing closest to you

• not all the time but every now and then does it turn into a spicy preening. (Not when her wings genuinely bring her pain) cause as she does keep good track of her preening. Sometimes, she forgets. Or gets to distracted from work. So you step in to help.

To remind her of what she needs.

• she couldn't ask for a better mate to help her preening. To help her wings in general. She's a tall woman so even though it takes a much longer time given she has more then two wings.. she's lucky you stuck around, more to help.

Bonus points if you have wings.

Cause then she'll help preen you no questions asked. Hell shed even offer the help.

Vaggie

• ok first things first. Vaggie? Is very insecure about her wings. Before falling she kinda knew how to handle preening enough so it wouldn't like- cause issues? But. She'd miss some. She'd miss the cloest ones to her middle of her back-

Only time she allowed Adam to help. Given she couldn't do it herself. Didnt trust the others too.

• but now in hell? She regrew them or- whatever.. it hurt. Like hell. Them ripping through her scared back- bur now she needs to relearn how to live with wings like she learned how to live without.

"I got it- I got it" vaggie growled out, giving you a pointed look on instinct as her wings flapped around, hitting yet another plate, sending it flying off the counter shattering as she tried to relearn how to fold them. To relax them.

"I really think-"

"I fucking Got it" she yelped out

• stubborn. She's a good lover awkward given her upbringing. But she never once meant to upset you. Never meant to take her temper out on you. But, she just didn't know how to properly react to this annoying pain again after all these years of no wings. Now it's here and she needs to preen? Again?

Asking was just as uncomfortable for her. Knowing you always offered to help? Made her upset. For two reasons- her stubbornness from her past to ask for such help pinging in anger at the suggestion she needed help. And two. Because of her snapping at you. Her girlfriend. Yet here she is doing what she was uncomfortable with.

She knew deep down as much as you could turn her away- send her off. You won't. So she? Asked

And you of course. Agreed

"Come on love~" patting in front of you, she stared. Her one good eye glancing at the cushion in front of you on the bed silent. To uncomfortable- unnerving to speak. Stepping too put od her comfort zone to ask. To allow you to touch her and know she's safe. She cant help but be uncomfortable. "When your ready? Let me see your pretty wings?" You hummed as she finally sat down. Tense infront of you.

Finally releasing her wings she allowed you to do your job. The second your hands touched her wings- touched her? She relaxed against you. Feeling safe. Which even now after all these years is..

Odd

• every time you preened her- shed be a more cuddly mess- nuzzling into you hiding into your chest or neck wings flapping puffing up.

It wasn't until you read up on wings to help her that you learned why. How it was like an intimate courting thing to do.

• didn't really understand, but. If it made her happy? You were happy. And imagine your surpise when she handed you her feather

Lute

Lute? Is not insecure about her wings. No she's very prideful of them how strong they are how soft and all the stuff she'd do to court you(despite her not needing to) she is COMPLETELY prideful of them. Showing them off all the time to you- she didn't care for anyone else's opinon..

But she is insecure. About her lack of knowledge of how to properly care for them. All executioners have this issue. Their all taught to be fighters killers. Nothing else. She's still learning to be a good lover- a gentle lover with you. But the basic stuff she knows how to preen.. but it hurts still.

She almost asked Adam for help but. She's to prideful. She can't accept help. That'd mean defeat for her. Mean she can't do it. Mean she ISNT the best. Mean.. she's not the perfect mate. Mean she isn't right for you- asking for help on anything sends her into a freak out. Makes her panic cause what If you leave her?

She can't even cook nor make nests completely right. So why would you want a mate that CANT even preen? Something all angels know. Doesn't matter executioners are.. exempt from this. Doesn't matter to her.

Lute is like vaggie. Stubborn. Unwilling to accept help even from her mate- her lover. She'll throw a fit- if you oh so mention her needed to be preened. She's just way to prideful.

Youll know when she needs to preen. Its the only time youll see her more.. phycially emotional rather then just her words. Oh, she'll yell. It's already well known how.. angry. Lute generally is other than her more... stoic persona.

If it weren't for her wings flapping or her having them at all- you'd call her a rabbit. Given how she stomps her foot like what rabbits do when angry(I know birds do as well when upset/uncomfortable)

"...lute" you cautiously called out. Watching as she stormed around your shared room wings puffing stretching as she roughly plucked herself. Glaring at you she huffed watching you closely as you swallowed

"May i help-"

"no" she cut off, snarling loudly feet stomping in that familiar way when.. she got like this. "Think I can't fucking take care of MY wings? I'm fine. I got it."

"But i- I can-"

Snarling she stormed off slamming the door roughly

"-help-"

Lute? Will stomp her feet. Wings puffing flapping in an annoyed anger cause of her wings irrating her. And that- you know you can jump in- asking yet again- cause she'll break at some point.

She always did. Always broke. Hinting for you to ask. And shell.. "reluctantly" agree and accept your help. As if you pushed her too. God heaven forbid she asks for help herself.

Stopping, you glanced up, seeing Lute again in front of you showing off her wings how it needs to be preened. Humming you blinked in thought. This.. was the third time she did such a thing

"...lute?" Her head tilting to you slightly, almost uninterested. But you saw that look. The look of panic but.. hopefully "do you need..help?" You asked once more unsure how she'd take it.

"If you insist so much. Fine, " she grumbled out, not even waiting, moving to sit in front of you. Smiling, you sighed. Of course, she wouldn't have actually asked.

She may not understand exactly how to preen but- her wings as always are like super soft- comforting as she sighed in relief as you preened her.

But if you asked? Oh, shed reject. How would she be happy for this? She is not. Nope. Nuh uh. Not at all happy her mate helped her.

She does surpise you, though. Even though she does it each time. How she piles her feathers you preened of her feathers. How she won't let you touch a single one, sending a glare your way if you so much as do.

Going through each and every feathers inspecting them as if searching for something. Then, the most acceptable ones she'll put a smaller pile wings puffing as she looks for the single best feathers.

She accepts no less than perfection after all.

Then once she finds it? She'll go to you- presenting it to you- insisting you inspect it for yourself and wait. Wait for you to accept or reject her feather.

Of course you accept-

Then she's all pridful. For getting the best feather for her mate. How you approved of her choice.

Of course if you have wings? Shell insists on preening you herself. She knows it's an intimate thing. How sometimes it does lead.. to more but. She thinks it's more special if she herself does it for you... ironic since she hardly accepts your help but. She does her best

You do have to show her- tell her if she's being to rough. After all? She doesn't know how to be gentle with anything much less wings

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin lute #lute x reader #hazbin hotel lute #sera seraphim #hazbin hotel sera #sera x reader #vaggie #vaggie x reader #hazbin hotel vaggie x reader #hazbin hotel vaggie

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gojocumeater · 5 months

Text

Warm hands

꒰ genre ⤑ SMUT

꒰ warnings ⤑ CRINGE , f.reader x college boyfriend!gojo, dom!gojo, sub!reader, swearing, hand kink, teasing, touching in public (with consent obv) , orgasm denial, finger sucking, fingering, choking, dirty talk, marking, hair pulling, unprotected sex, penetration, rough sex, pet names, size kink, big dick!gojo (act surprised), praising, creampie, cockwarming

꒰ words count ⤑ 3.4K

꒰ A/N : hi hi, here's a little something I wrote awhile ago. I'll finish editing it later, I wanted to post it tonight so it's a bit rush. I hope you'll like it. Thank you for reading my last fics, I really appreciate it. (lil reminder, English is not my first language, sorry for the mistakes). PLEASE DON'T BE A SILENT READER, FEEDBACKS ARE VERY WELCOMED! xoxo - sunny

M RATED

Satoru's hands were one of the many things you liked the most about him. They’re so attractive, so delicate in their ways…

You were sat in front of him, at this cute little café you went after every courses to either study, spend time with your friends or most of the time with your lovely boyfriend.

For some unknown reasons, you couldn’t take your eyes off his beautiful hands. You thought about the way his veins were prominent sometimes when his fingers are tapping swiftly over the keyboard of his laptop or the way his hands looked when he cooks, writes or the way he mindlessly plays with the pen between his long fingers when he’s daydreaming. It made you feel some type of ways..

It made you think about how it feels when he places them on your hips when he’s standing behind you, or when he caresses your sides when you’re cuddling, or the way his fingers move insid-

“Y/n?”

Your eyes were glued on Satoru's hands as he grabbed his soft drink to take a sip from it, “y/n?” he called out softly again.

You were too into your, perhaps weird thoughts, that you slightly jumped when he grabbed your hand gently “oh” he chuckled, his pretty smile making your heart melt.

“Where are you?” he asked still smiling, “huh?” your confused face making him laugh. “well, I was talking but you weren’t listening."

You’ve probably been staring at him weirdly..

He squeezed your hand softly making you gulp, your gaze dropping to his veiny hands again making you sigh deeply. “you good?” he asked concerned this time.

“y-yea yea don’t worry. So what were you talking about?” You cleared your throat before offering him a small smile.

“so I was saying, while I was working on my essay earlier I’ve-…”

and again, your eyes dropped down his large hands, fingers tapping softly on the table as he explained whatever he was saying.

Satoru stopped talking, looking at you suspiciously “so that’s how I choked Suguru, I shoved a living fish into his throat. What do you think about it?” he stared at you intensely waiting for you to reply.

"oh yea ..yea I agree! Of course.“ you cleared your throat again looking back up at him.

Satoru sighed before dragging his chair closer to yours "baby tell me what’s wrong?“ he pushed some strands of hair behind your ear.

He laid his warm hand gently on top of your thigh making goosebumps raised under his touch.

Your boyfriend didn’t miss the way you shivered. Your heart started beating faster as you watched him realize why you were so absent.

Satoru chuckled as you turned your face away from him.

”so you’re horny, is that it?“

”Shut up! you’re talking so loud.” you hid your embarrassed face behind your hands.

Your boyfriend decided to tease you a bit “so.. my hands huh?” he whispered, his fingertips slowly dancing on your thigh.

”are you always turn on everytime you look at them? Huh?“ He murmured into your ear, his warm breath hitting your skin.

He leaned his body onto your side, his large hand grabbing the flesh softly. “Or when I do this.” his fingers teasingly sliding closer to where you needed him. He smirked when you suddenly grab his hand stopping him from going higher.

“Satoru.” you warned him quietly “we’re in public."

He sighed releasing his hand from your grip before placing it again on the top of your thigh. He looked into your eyes deeply, drawing random little patterns on the smooth skin.

“tell me if you want me to stop.” he whispered before kissing your cheek.

His fingers danced their way up to your panties slowly looking at you for any sign of disapproval. You gasped when the tip of his finger came in contact with your lightly covered clit. You put your hand in front of your mouth, cheeks warming up. The idea of getting caught in a public place doing such “daring” stuff made you feel lightheaded.

You lowered your head watching as his hand disappeared under your skirt. You spread your legs a little making room for his hand to slide between your thighs.

Satoru applied a light pressure on the throbbing pearl, the feeling making a soft moan pass by your lips. Your surroundings long forgotten now.

He moved his fingers in circle on the little bud making you bit on your bottom lip to stay silent. Your panties now damp at how turned on you were.

“f-fuck.” you breathed out.

You started feeling the familiar knot in the pit of your stomach as he rubbed faster. “S-Satoru.” you whimpered softly ”I’m close."

Satoru retracted his hand as he grab his drink to sip on it.

“A-are you serious?” you whined disappointed, your climax vanishing.

“Sorry I was thirsty.” he smirked before grabbing his bag and yours from the floor as he stood up. You looked up at him confused.

He held his hand out for you to take it “let’s get out of here. We’re going to my dorm. I’ll take care of you properly there.” he bit his lip teasingly, a smile plastered on his face as you laughed.

You gasped as your back hit the wall, Satoru closed the front door shut with his foot not wanting to break the long kiss you started from the elevator.

The drive from the café was fast when you think about it, much more faster than usual.

He threw the car keys onto the counter, your arms still wrapped around his neck. You hummed as his large hands stroked your sides gently.

"we’re lucky Suguru is not here." Satoru muttered before grinning as he peeked toward the living room, the tv turned off and the balcony’s doors locked.

Usually when, Suguru, his roommate and his best friend was here, the tv would be playing some series, the balcony doors would be wide open. Some snacks would be all over the table accompanied with either two or three empty cans of beer, and not forgetting his bottle of water "to stay hydrated" like he always says.

You both took your shoes off before entering the "dorm" - which looked more like a nice apartment. Satoru helped you with your things, putting your coat on the chair with your school bag.

"let’s go to my room." he said grabbing your hand gently in his, guiding you to his bedroom.

He opened his door slowly revealing his "not-so-neat" room.

"I’m sorry." he scratched the back of his head embarrassed "I didn’t clean my room this week... yet."

You chuckled "it’s not that bad… compared to the last time I came over." you reminded making him scoff.

"well, m’aam it wasn’t my fault." he glared at you.

"oh yea.. we’re gonna say it’s Haibara's dog fault huh." you crossed your arms over your chest making Satoru grin.

"exactly!"

"so you’re saying that when you brought his dog here he drunk cola and just left the empty cans on the floor? Or he just put a pile of dirty clothes on a chair? homework papers laying everywhere but on the desk? Or-"

"ok enough!" he pushed his tongue on the inside of his cheek knowing well he’s putting his bad habits on the poor dog’s back.

"I decided to have good habits now. See! I put the dirty clothes in the basket there." he pointed toward the basket full of clothing next to the connected bathroom’s door.

You nodded "so it’s, perhaps time to do the laundry.. it’s kind of full." you looked back at him.

Satoru smirked "well, not as full as you’re gon-"

"argh shut up!" you rolled your eyes cheeks burning.

"oh, you’re shy now darling?" he teased as he bumped your nose.

"you not funny." you pouted making his heart melt, you were just so cute when you’re embarrassed.

"gosh you’re so cute, come here." he pulled you to him by your hips, bending down a little so he could rest his forehead on yours.

"I can’t wait to ruin you." he said lowly, his hand caressing your cheek softly as he looked into your eyes.

You gulped at the sudden change of attitude. He was just so hot.

Satoru licked his lips, before enveloping yours in a loving kiss.

"I love you." he whispered.

"I love you." you smiled.

He backed you slowly toward the bed until the back of your knees touched the edge of it. He laid you gently on the mattress, the soft sheets welcoming you before he hovered over you.

"now I have you all to myself." he stared down at you with his cerulean eyes, bottom lip caught between his teeth. His arms rested on each sides of your head as he bent down to kiss your neck making you sighed pleasantly.

Satoru nipped at the smooth skin, leaving little reddish marks. Your hands went to grab on his broad shoulders as his lips travelled down to your collarbone biting on it, not too hard but enough to make you moan as you gripped harder on his shoulders.

"fuck, you like it when I bite you?" he asked looking up at you as you avoid eye contact.

"you’re really something huh." he smirked, fingers playing with the hem of your shirt "can I take it off ,darling?"

You just whispered a quiet "yes." as he didn’t lose time and threw the shirt away, his hands going down to your skirt looking up at you again, a silent request for your consent to get rid of it too.

"please." you whined impatient.

He complied again, the clothe landing somewhere on the carpeted floor.

"fuck." he sighed lowly.

"look at you." his eyes wandering over your body "you’re so fucking pretty."

His fingers grazed over the lacy bra, your cheeks heating up as he stare down at you in awe.

Satoru breathed deeply before kissing down your chest, lips caressing gently on the unmarked skin of your breasts. He peppered soft little kisses down to your stomach before biting on the soft flesh, making you grab on his white locks.

"Satoru." you moaned breathlessly.

"yes, my love?" he licked over the reddish spot on your tummy, eyes locking with yours as he looked up at you.

"I want you." you whispered impatiently.

"you do?" He raised his eyebrow teasingly as his beautiful fingers dance over the delicate skin of your stomach.

"tell me what you want baby." he asked seductively.

"your... your fingers." you closed your eyes feeling dizzy already. Just the thought of his fingers buried deep inside of you, made you close your legs.

"ditching my dick for my fingers now?" he chuckled making you cover your flustered face.

"but I don’t mind, if I still can satisfy you." his fingers slid down between your legs as he spread your thighs for him.

His fingertips came in contact with your covered clit making you whimper, the light pressure making you lose your mind again.

"hmm, you like that?" he pressed a bit harder making you sigh.

He suddenly drew his hand back and raised it in front of your face "suck." he ordered, tapping his fingers teasingly on your lips.

Satoru knew how to turn you on because, you were so damn horny right now.

"C’mon, open up princess." you felt your heart beating faster at the nickname.

You opened your mouth slowly allowing him to slide three digits inside "now suck."

You complied, your lips tightening around his long digits. Your saliva wetting them as your tongue swipe over them.

You moaned furrowing your eyebrows as he pushed them deeper.

"such a good girl for me." he praised before retracting his hand, a faint trail of saliva still connecting your lips with his fingers.

"You love my fingers that much?" he asked, thumb sliding over your bottom lip. You just stared up at him, no words daring to come out.

"cats got your tongue, hun'?" he tilted his head to the side chuckling.

"lost of words and I didn’t even fuck you with my fingers yet." he sighed, acting disappointed.

Satoru smirked as he glided his hand down your body before dragging your panties down your legs. He caressed your thigh up to your core before pressing his fingers on your glistening lips, before entered two fingers inside you making you close your legs around him.

"tsk, open those pretty legs for me love." he glared at you. You swore you could had cummed right on the moment, the effect he has over you was insane.

He started thrusting slowly inside you as he spread your legs again.

"you’re so good baby, swallowing my fingers like that, gosh you’re so hot." he muttered.

He moved faster making you grip the sheets as you felt your high coming already.

“I’m close!" you whimpered loudly.

Satoru rubbed his thumb on your clit, almost pushing you to the edge but just before you could come, he pulled his hand away, your orgasm vanishing. You looked at him, tears in your eyes as he stole your second orgasm of the day.

"why? why would you!?” you glared at him.

"don’t look at me like that, princess." he warned.

"but why?" a tear rolled down your cheek as you felt like you’ve been overstimulated. You wanted- you needed to come so bad.

"don’t cry pretty girl." he stroked your cheek, wiping the tear with his thumb.

"I didn’t want you to cum on my fingers, i want you to cum around my dick, baby.”

He got off you, standing before you to take his shirt off maintaining eye contact.

He extended his hand for you to take it, helping you sit down. He placed your hands on his belt and you got the hint as you started unbuckle it. Satoru helped you pushing his pants down his muscular legs as your eyes met the painfully confined bulge in his boxer.

He got rid of the garments covering him from you, discarding it away on the pile of clothes on the floor. You looked away feeling a bit hot as he stood there proudly naked with no shame.

"is my princess shy again?" he chuckled, his smile making your heart melt.

"look at me." he asked gently lifting you chin up "listen carefully." you nodded waiting for him to continue.

"I’m gonna fuck you dumb, my love." he bent down kissing you, his hands coming behind your back to unhook your bra.

Satoru laid you down again, spreading your legs to make room for him to lay between them.

"You look so pretty like that under me." he smiled admiring your flustered face, laying one of his hand on your bare waist.

He lowered himself more, his head buried into the crook of your neck as he started leaving little wet kisses making you turned your head to the side giving him more access.

"'toru." you whined as he teased your entrance with the tip of his erection.

He placed one your leg over his waist, rutting forward against your core making you moan loudly "stop teasing!"

"you no fun baby." he pouted making you roll your eyes.

"please." you pleaded just wanting to feel him as he kept on rubbing his erection between your glistening lips.

"As you wish y/n." he slapped the head of his cock on your throbbing clit making you hiss before penetrating you slowly making sure to not hurt you. You threw your head back into his pillow, gripping on his shoulders as he bottomed out.

"you good?" he made sure you weren’t uncomfortable "tell me whenever you want me to stop." he reminded, making your nod.

Satoru licked your jawline before sucking softly on the skin leaving little marks.

"you’re so- fuck." you whimpered at the painful yet delicious stretch, his hips moving carefully slow.

He picked up the pace making you clenched around him. He groaned into your neck, his grip on your thigh tightened as he adjusted it higher on his hip, the new position helping him hit deeper.

"you feel so good princess."

"you take me so well." he moaned as he felt you scratch his back.

He looked down between your bodies, grabbing your hand guiding it down to press it on the bulge in your lower stomach.

"look at you.. so small we can see my cock." he breathed out, his words making goosebumps raised all over your skin.

You arched your back off the bed as he hit deeper "Satoru! I'm so close." you breathed out, eyes closed.

"fuck! Look at me. Look at me when I’m making you feel good." He asked, his hand travelling up to your neck, fingers wrapping around your throat. He applied a light pressure enough to make you lightheaded.

You opened your eyes meeting his lustful ones. You wanted to look away, his stare making you feel small under him.

"you’re such a good girl for me, aren’t you?" he snapped his hips into yours making you cry his name out.

Satoru couldn’t take his eyes off your face. You looked so pretty under him, forehead covered with little beads of sweat, eyes half-open, moaning his name loudly.

"oh my- don’t stop! Right there!" your boyfriend bit on his bottom lip, the flesh turning white. Your fingernails were buried deep into the flesh of his scratched back.

"You feel so good." He groaned loudly as he felt you tighten around him "so warm and f-fuck!"

You threw your head back as you felt the oh-so-familiar feeling in the pit of your stomach.

"I’m so close." you moaned grabbing on his bicep.

"I got you baby." he kissed your lips, his hand traveling down your bodies until it reached your bud of nerves. He drew little circles on your clit with his thumb lazily making you arch your back off the mattress.

You looked down, mouth ajar, at his fingers, the way his veins were prominent on his hand. You bit on your lip, pleasure getting unbearable.

"Satoru!" you cried out loudly as you came around him.

The way your walls kept on convulsing around him push him closer to his climax as he dropped his head on your chest, his breathing unsteady. Satoru didn’t take much time to come inside you, his warm cum filling you up to the brim. You pulled harshly on his white hair as he rode your orgasm.

He collapsed on your sweaty body, his head buried into the crook of his neck.

"damn." he said after a few minutes making you both laugh.

"yea damn." you caressed the back of his head.

"that was awesome." he hummed satisfied against your skin.

"I agree." you hummed closing your eyes.

Satoru was about to pull out but you hug him.

"let’s stay like this for a moment … please?" you asked timidly.

"I’d love to." he smiled against your skin.

"I love you 'Toru" you kissed his forehead earning a cute smile from your boyfriend whom look up at you.

"I love you" he hugged your body tightly.

—

"should we tell them?" Shoko asked Suguru.

The dark haired boy man paused the game before putting his controller down on his desk "what? that we’ve been here the whole time?"

Shoko shrugged "he’s your roommate. I’d tease him if I was you." she smirked.

"you’re saying this like he’s not your friend too." Suguru laughed.

"I don’t live here. But well, I don’t mind teasing them. I'll tease y/n later when we will be in our apartment." she smirked before getting up from the floor, throwing her cigarette outside by the window.

"Shoko! the ashtray is just over there." he pointed desperately toward the small receptacle, he bought especially for her, placed on the window's edge.

Suguru shook his head disappointed.

"where are you going?" he asked confused following his short best friend.

"oh yes! yes! y/n! you're doing so well." Shoko yelled from the living room with a -bad -imitated- deep voice "you’re so good ahhh".

Suguru fell on the couch laughing at his friend "stop it or he’ll whine about it all day."

"the fuck!?" they heard Satoru opening his bedroom’s door.

Suguru looked at Shoko trying not to laugh but failing as they both see the shirtless man standing before them.

"you guys are so dead. See you both later." he glared at them before returning to his room, leaving his best friend dying from laughing.

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avenging-fandoms · 5 months

Note

its the way i wanna have a matching tattoo with harry LMFAO god that'd be so cute

i got a tattoo on sunday so i feel v passionate about this (a matching one at that!)

“Are you sure you want to do this, Harry? This is permanent, forever and ever on you.”

Harry held his fiancé’s face and pecked your lips softly. “Well it’s a good thing I’m marrying you to be my wife forever and ever. I want to do this.” You lock fingers with Harry’s and kiss him softly.

Harry had a tattoo artist that came to the house and let you two get one wherever. Harry came outside with his guitar, sitting across from you and putting his feet on your chair next to your knees.

He started to play and hummed, that turned into mumble singing. “Hello?” Carrie called and you smile.

“Back here!” You lightly jog over and open the gate, greeting the tattoo artist with a hug and smile. Harry does the same, showing her where to set up. You all sat in your seats and Carrie added the stencil to the top of your ring finger.

“Got anything new, Harry?” Carrie asks, nodding towards his guitar and you smile at him.

“I’ll play you the one I wrote for my girl recently.” Carrie winked at you and you still blush like you two just met. He sang louder over the tattoo gun, neither Carrie or you mind. The tattoo was finished after 2 songs and you beam.

"Well, what do you think?" You ask, holding your hand out to Harry and his mouth closes. "Do you not like it?" You ask worrisome.

"Oh no, darling. Fuck, I love it, wait," He rests your fingers flat in his hands and takes pictures of the 'H' on your finger. "My turn." You kiss him a few times before he stands and sits in the tattoo chair. He got your initial tattoo on his ring finger.

Carrie finishes quickly and you gasp dramatically, holding a hand over your chest. "Oh my God! You're stuck with me forever." You smile and go over to where he stood, kissing him passionately.

"Harry?" Carrie said and he sat back down. "Actually, I think we'll have to take this inside." She suggests and you furrow your eyebrows.

"You're right. Honey, can you get a few things from Target please, maybe some food as well?" Harry pulls out his card and gives it to you. You narrow your eyes and take the card slowly.

"You're not about to cheat on me and bribing me with free reign in Target, are you?" You ask suspiciously and they both laugh.

"No, my love."

"Yeah, no worries girl, I'm not into people like Harry." Carries smiles and you nod with a little chuckle and blush from embarrassment.

"I'm so sorry.. I'll- yeah." You grab your things and leave.

You play your music and admire your new tattoo on your finger as your hand rests on the steering wheel. You go to Target and Harry texts you things he needs, the house needs, and ends the messages with, "And, of course, Whatever you want to buy. No is not in yours or mine's vocabulary. I love you peach."

You enter the store with a headphone in, grabbing a cart and putting your purse in the seat. You try to go towards the aisles of the things you need, but you got distracted. Clothes, bags, you were in heaven.

A long while later and a near cart full of stuff, you finally got what Harry needs and check out. You bring all the bags to the car and put it in the trunk, putting your cart in the corral because you're not an asshole.

You get in the car and pick up the food Harry ordered for the 2 of you, Carrie not wanting anything. You head home and Carrie was packing up her car as you pull into the driveway.

"Hey! Back just in time!" You smile and she closes her passenger door. "Do you need any bags in?" She offers and you wave your hand.

"Oh stop! You drive all the way to tattoo us and you want to also bring these bags in?" You two laugh. "No, thank you. I really appreciate it." She nods and we hug goodbye. You back into the garage and close the door once she leaves. "Harry? What did you-" He comes around the corner shirtless and your eyes land under his belly button, between his ferns; your birth flower. "Harry.."

Your voice was barely a whisper and you almost drop the food. You put all of your stuff on the counter and walk over to him, falling on your knees in front of him. Your hands held his thighs, his fingers combing through your hair as you look up at him. "You did this for me?" You ask as your eyes stay on his, lips dragging against the fern and stopping before the new tattoo.

"For only you." Harry gripped your chin and you smile, standing up and kissing him hungrily.

"Fuck, Harry." You mumble against his lips, gripping his hair.

"I love you so much, peach." You kiss him again and turn around, heading to the door that leads to the garage and his hand touches your back. "I can't wait to see you bought."

Your tattoos had finally healed and you now shared them with everyone on social media, Carrie respecting your guys' wishes of posting her shots of your tattoos until you guys did.

Harry wanted to post a picture of my birth flower, so you put your hand underneath the flowers as he took the picture, your fingers running over it and scratching it softly. "Naughty naughty." He teases, finger under your chin as he sits up to kiss you.

"I love this tattoo." You hum and kiss the flower gently, earning a groan from Harry's lips. His fingers comb through your hair and you kiss every line of the tattoos on his hips.

"Fuck, honey." You smile and crawl towards him, moving your face against his, nose brushing along the bridge of his.

"I love youu.." You sing and kiss the apple of his cheeks.

"I love you, my sweet girl." He held your jaw with both hands and kisses you, rolling on top of you.

"You have to get ready, Mr. Styles." You kiss him softly and sit up, running your hands up and down his chest, stopping at the tattoo and looking up at him. "What time do you have to be there?" You ask with your lips dragging down the skin on his neck.

Harry's fingers grip your thighs and you let out a whimper. "Whenever I fucking get there, they can wait."

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles blurb #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff

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maximoffcarter · 2 months

Text

Better Place.

Pairings: Alex Cabot x reader.

Summary: Alexandra Cabot thought she'd never want to settle with anyone, she already considered herself married to her job and that was enough for her. But what happened when, unexpectedly, someone walks into her life with a little bundle of joy?

A/n: This was requested by an anon, Alex playing the role of mom with reader's kid. I suddenly got an idea and wrote it right away, I think this turned out pretty cute hehe. Don't be afraid to send me an ask or message if you got any requests, I'm up for anything for now. Enjoy and leave your comments, reblog, hearts, whatever you'd like, will be very much appreciated🫶🏻

*not my gif*

Working for SVU was probably the hardest thing that Alexandra Cabot has done in her life; the fact that she saw unimaginable cases every single day, things she never thought she’d see or thought they were not real. But she was proud to be part of a team that wanted nothing more than get justice for the victims, and she too wanted nothing more than that, even if most of the time, the cases didn’t end as they expected or wanted. Growing up in a family full of successful people had made Alex want to leave her own mark, which meant that she’d be married to her job and whatever outside her job didn’t really matter. Also, something that she had always kept in mind since starting in SVU, was the thought of zero kids, not even having a partner. Of course, she had her dates, she had her one night stands no too often but every now and then, but mainly, she didn’t want to get involved in anything serious. Also because she knew that if she ever did, she’d putting her partner at risk, and the thought of it scared her, because she has seen it before, and she didn’t want that in her life.

But, they do say that sometimes life doesn’t go the way people want it to, and Alex knew about it, but she didn’t believe it would ever get to her. On a random night at the bar, Alex had gone for a drink after a tough case, wanting to be alone and drink her problems away, and that’s where her eyes landed on a beautiful girl that was at a table with a couple of other girls. She couldn’t help but stare at her the whole time she was there, every now and then looking away, she didn’t want to scare the girl. Her first thought was going to introduce herself, buy her a drink, and then maybe, just maybe, get her back to her place. But Alex took her time thinking about it, feeling a little disappointed in herself as she thought about what she wanted to do, debating in her mind if she should do it or not. But before she could take a decision, she felt someone standing beside her, turning her head slightly to find the girl that she had been staring at the whole night, ordering a drink.

Alex then decided she simply wanted to get to know her, see where this went, so she offered to pay for the drink. The girl looked back at her and offered a smile and a thank you, asking if she could sit with Alex and introducing herself. Y/n’s friends were completely forgotten as she engaged in a conversation with Alex for about an hour or so, funny stories were shared, laughs and smiles, Alex felt a little more alive as she talked to her. After some more drinks, both women decided it was time to go and decided to leave the bar together, as they made a stop in a corner, Alex stared at her for longer that she had expected, smiling softly as y/n caught her staring, giggling softly.

“Would it be too forward if I asked if you want to go to my place?” Alex bit her lip, a bit anxious as she waited for an answer.

Y/n sighed softly. “Not at all.” She smiled. “But I don’t think you want to get involved with me, Alex.”

Alex frowned. “Why not?”

“I don’t think I’m what you’re looking for.” Y/n smiled as she looked down at her hands.

Alex walked closer to y/n and placed her hand on y/n’s chin, making her look up at her. “I’ll be the judge to that. But if you don’t want to, you can always say no.” She smiled softly. “And we can go for a coffee first.”

Y/n’s breath hitched as she looked into Alex’s eyes. “How about both?”

Alex grinned softly as she nodded. “Sounds like a plan.” She looked down at y/n’s lips and leaned down to kiss her softly, stopping herself from deepening the kiss. She definitely knew this wouldn’t be like other times, this was way more.

After getting to Alex’s apartment, neither of them could stop themselves anymore and as soon as the door closed, thy engaged in a deep and hungry kiss. Clothes disappeared slowly as they made their way to Alex’s room, and the night went away as they explored each other’s bodies. Alex knew then that she was screwed because this was definitely not like other nights, y/n was not like anyone she has ever known, and her mind then made her realize that she just needed a few hours to realize that she indeed wanted that coffee, and more after that. It was around five am when she felt the bed moving, and suddenly the warmth that was pressed against her body was no longer there and she felt cold. She opened her eyes and found y/n looking for her clothes around the room.

“Leaving already?” Alex said softly, her voice a bit raspy.

Y/n turned to look at Alex and smiled shyly. “I’m sorry, I need to go. I need to be home before seven.”

“I can let you borrow some clothes, so you don’t have to put back on the dress.” Alex smiled as she got up, grabbing the sheet that had been covering her body and wrapping it around her body, walking to her closet. She grabbed some sweatpants and a hoodie, handing it to y/n. “Want to see if any of my shoes fit?”

Y/n shook her head as she looked at Alex, smiling softly. “I don’t live too far away from here, so the boots I wore will be fine. Thanks.” She stared at Alex for a moment and then cleared her throat. “Can I uh…use your bathroom?”

Alex nodded. “Sure.” She smiled softly as she saw y/n walking to the bathroom and closing the door behind her.

Alex then proceeded to find a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie, decided she didn’t want to go to sleep anymore, and she was going to go for a run, changing rapidly before y/n could walk out of the bathroom. Once she was done, she made her bed and picked up the rest of her clothes, putting them in the dirty basket. She heard the door opening and she smiled as she looked at y/n, crossing her arms as she walked to her.

“So…about that coffee.” Alex grinned.

Y/n sighed softly as she placed her clothes on te bed, turning to look at Alex. “You really don’t wanna get involved with me, Alex. I told you last night. I want to. But…I’d rather save myself from the pain later.”

Alex frowned. “I…” she sighed. “I don’t want this to just be a one night stand. So whatever you don’t want me to get involved with, I’ll take it. Unless, you know…you murdered someone, or you’re a drug dealer, or-“

Y/n laughed softly as she slapped Alex’s arm softly. “It’s not that.”

Alex chuckled. “Then? What could be worst than that?” She raised her brow.

Y/n sighed. “It’s not worst for me. But…I know it’s a handful for other people.” She offered a small smile.

Alex nodded. “You’re married?”

“Alex!” Y/n rolled her eyes playfully. She then shook her head. “I have a daughter.”

“Oh.” Alex raised her brows. “Sorry I thought the worst, but not that.” She chuckled.

Y/n shrugged. “For some people it is.” She smiled, looking down at the floor as she tried to avoid Alex’s stare. “No, I wasn’t married. I…didn’t plan her. It was a long time ago but…I was in a relationship that I didn’t want to be into, I was…raped. And then I was pregnant, but I chose to keep her.” She looked back at Alex and sighed. “I’m a mess. I’m a single mother who works at the hospital as a nurse. Not exactly someone you want to get involved with.” She smiled. “And I get it, I won’t blame you.”

It was then when Alex realized that after all, getting involved in something serious couldn’t be a bad thing, not if it meant she would be able to see y/n again and be with her. The thought of a kid scared her, but it wasn’t like she was going to get married to her already. But she wanted to see where this could go. She was actually willing to go out of her comfort zone and see where this could take them.

Alex smiled as she walked closer to y/n, placing her hand on y/n’s cheek and stroking it softly. “Why don’t we go for that coffee and then we see how it goes from there?”

Y/n’s heart warmed, smiling softly. “Really?”

Alex leaned down to kiss her lips softly. “Really.” She said against her lips as she smiled. “I give you my number and you let me know when you’re free?”

Y/n nodded softly. “That sounds like a plan.” She smiled as she kissed Alex’s lips again.

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

Alex and y/n had decided that they’d go on a few dates to see where things could go, but after the second date, Alex already knew that she didn’t want y/n to leave her life ever. She had thought about it every day that she didn’t see y/n, how things could definitely change in her life, how it could also change for y/n, and she had surprised herself by actually picturing herself with a kid. After 4 months of dating, they finally decided that it was time for y/n’s daughter to get to know Alex. She knew that once she met y/n’s daughter, she’d be getting involved for good and even if y/n told her there was always a way out, Alex didn’t want it, she actually was excited to meet the little girl and to see where this relationship could go. Y/n had simply said that they could meet for a coffee, but Alex wanted the day to be fun for the little girl, so she offered to take them to the zoo. Alex had been standing in the entrance for around 15 minutes, her eyes trying to search for y/n and her hands fidgeting with her coat. Her eyes finally landed on y/n, a smile appearing in her face as she looked at her and then her eyes landed on the little girl that was holding her hand. The girl looked exactly like y/n, but her hair was long and red, hazel eyes, but she was definitely a mini y/n.

“Hi.” Y/n smiled softly as she stood in front of Alex, leaning in to kiss her cheek.

“Hey.” Alex smiled and then looked down, kneeling in front of the kid. “Hi. I’m Alex.”

The girl looked at y/n before her eyes went back to Alex, smiling softly. “Hi Alex. I’m Amelia, and I’m six.”

“Amelia. That’s a beautiful name.” Alex smiled.

“We are both A.” Amelia chuckled. “You’re really pretty, just like my mommy said.”

Alex’s smile widened as she looked up at y/n and then back at Amelia. “We are indeed both A’s, and you’re as beautiful as your mommy told me.”

“Thanks, Alex.” Amelia smiled.

“So, are you ready to have some fun?” Alex raised her brows.

Amelia nodded happily. “I love the zoo. Mommy brings me whenever is my birthday, so I’m excited to be here even if it’s not my birthday.”

Alex smiled. “Well, we’ll make sure you also come on your birthday. For now, let’s enjoy today.”

After an hour or so, they had made it almost through the whole zoo, at some point, Amelia had let go of y/n’s hand and grabbed Alex’s hand, Amelia taking her to see every animal as she talked about it and asked Alex questions. Y/n just followed them around and smiled softly as she saw them getting to know each other. Alex had been nervous before they had arrived but now that Amelia was literally sticking by her side, she couldn’t help but feel relaxed and happy. It wasn’t that she hated or didn’t like kids, she has worked with many kids before, she tried to be as nice and kind as possible, she thought they were cute and sweet, but she had never seen herself with one. Now, here she was, running around Bronx Zoo with a kid holding her hand. Before they left, Amelia asked y/n if they could stop at the shop, y/n making it very clear that she wouldn’t be buying anything for her and she was only looking. Amelia then went ahead to look at the toys, leaving Alex and y/n alone for a moment, both watching over her.

“Alex, I cannot thank you enough for today.” Y/n smiled softly. “I had never seen Amelia so happy and…trusting someone so quick.”

Alex’s whole body warmed at her words, smiling softly. “You don’t need to thank me, I’m just happy that she had fun. And that she seems to like me.”

Y/n placed her hand on Alex’s cheek and smiled. “She does like you. She completely forgot her mom was here.” She chuckled softly as she leaned in and kissed her lips. “You two are so cute.”

Alex smiled against her lips. “You’re cute too. She looks a lot like you.”

Y/n shrugged. “She got the hair from my mom.” She smiled.

“Mommy! Mommy!” Amelia ran to her and pouted. “Can you please buy me this? Pretty pleeeease.”

“Amy, we said we would only look.” Y/n looked down at her daughter.

“But mommy, I wanna take it home. She needs a home.” Amelia pouted again.

“Baby, you got enough plushies.”

“But not a red panda! She’s cute!”

Alex looked at y/n and then at Amelia. “I’ll buy it.”

Y/n turned to look at Alex. “Alex, you don-“

“Really?!” Amelia smiled widely as she looked at Alex.

“Consider it my gift.” Alex smiled as she looked at y/n. “Can I?” She tilted her head as she looked at y/n.

Y/n sighed as she looked at Alex’s face, she could almost see her pouting just like her daughter, rolling her eyes. “Okay, Alex can buy it for you. Go with Alex.”

“Thanks mommy! C’mon Alex!” Amelia grabbed her hand and pulled Alex with her.

Y/n shook her head softly as she smiled. “I got myself another kid.” She chuckled softly as she followed them.

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

Y/n sighed heavily. “Mom…it’s okay. I’ll just uh…I’ll figure something out. Don’t worry about it. Just be safe, okay?” She hung up the phone and leaned her head against the wall, groaning.

“Sarah told me you’d be here.”

Y/n looked at the door and smiled as she saw Alex standing there, that cute smile on her face. “Hi. What are you doing here?” She smiled as she walked to Alex, kissing her lips softly.

“Well, since you said you didn’t have time to go out for lunch, I thought I’d bring you some. I’m on my way to the office.” Alex smiled as she handed her the bag of food.

“Oh, I love you. Thank you. I’m starving.” Y/n chuckled softly as she smiled, looking at Alex. “You didn’t have to do that though.”

“I wanted to.” Alex smiled as she kissed her forehead. “And I love you too.” She stroked y/n’s cheek. “Everything okay? You look a little worried there.”

Y/n sighed softly. “My mom has an appointment today and she was supposed to take care of Amelia. My shift doesn’t end until 10 pm and I’ll need to call a babysitter.” She shrugged. “I just don’t trust anyone with Amelia.”

Alex nodded. “Why don’t I pick her up?”

Y/n stared at Alex for a moment. “I- are you sure?”

Alex shrugged. “Why not? I mean, she knows me, you know me.” She chuckled softly. “I can go to your place so she’s more comfortable.”

“Well, I just…” Y/n chuckled softly. “I know you know her. I mean she’s…obsessed with you.” She laughed softly. “I just didn’t know if you’d be okay to be alone with her.”

Alex smiled. “I like being with her. And I don’t know I mean…maybe it’ll be good for us to spend some time together.”

“So you two team up and go against me? Because that’s definitely what happened the first time you met, and all the other times we’ve gone out.” Y/n raised her brow.

Alex chuckled softly. “Maybe.” She smiled. “It’ll be okay. I offered.”

Y/n sighed, smiling softly. “Okay, I’ll give you my keys. I’ll call and tell them that you’ll be picking her up. Pick up is at 2:30 pm.” She went to her locker and got her keys and some money, walking back to Alex. “Here’s some money so you buy something to eat for dinner. I’ll try to be home as soon as possible.”

Alex grinned as she only grabbed the keys, kissing her forehead softly. “Dinner is on me.”

Y/n rolled her eyes playfully. “Okay. Call me if you need anything.” She leaned in and kissed her lips softly. “Thank you.”

Alex nodded. “No worries.” She smiled before she walked out of the room.

It had almost been a year since they had started dating, all these months, Alex couldn’t be any happier, after thinking too much about it, their relationship was actually working perfectly. Amelia had adjusted so well to Alex, loving every second that she got to spend time with her. Alex had already met y/n’s mom and just a few weeks ago, Alex had planned a trip to her parents house in the Hamptons, both of them falling in love with both y/n and Amelia. She was afraid about the waited talk with her parents, which eventually, after y/n went up to the room to put Amelia to sleep, came as Alex was left alone with her parents. Alex never thought that she’d want to settle with anyone, but after almost a whole year of them dating, she wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of her life with both y/n and Amelia. Even if the thought of being a parent to Amelia scared her to death, she couldn’t help but think about watching Amelia grow up.

Alex stood in line waiting to pick up Amelia, looking at all the moms who picked up their kids and smiling softly. The squad had already teased her about it one time that Alex mentioned something about Amelia and the whole squad had stared at her as she talked about a little girl and that’s when she explained that her girlfriend had a kid. They teased her endlessly that she was now a mother and she’d soon be attending school dances, birthday parties and more. Even if they were only teasing her, Alex couldn’t help but smile at the thought, feeling warm inside. This was so new, definitely not something she had expected, but she was happy.

“Alex! You really here!” Amelia ran to Alex and Alex picked her up, Amelia wrapping her arms around Alex’s neck happily.

“Hey princess.” Alex chuckled softly, looking at the teacher. “Thank you.”

“Amelia was so excited to know you were coming for her. You have her wrapped around your finger.” The teacher smiled.

Alex smiled. “It’s the other way around, actually.” She then looked at Amelia. “Wanna go for an ice cream?”

“Yes!” Amelia was then put down on the floor and grabbed Alex’s hand.

After the ice cream, they both headed to y/n’s apartment. Alex almost broke her head as she tried to help Amelia out with her homework, noticing that she was way better at law than at simple kids homework. After that, Amelia had gone to her room to play for a bit while Alex got some work done, but not too long after, Amelia appeared back in the living room and asked Alex if she could sit with her to watch a movie while Alex worked. Alex would stare at her every now and then, smiling as Amelia was lost in the movie, one arm wrapped around her plushie and her little hand on Alex’s leg. She didn’t know when it happened, but all of a sudden she was laughing at the movie with Amelia, papers aside and Amelia leaning over her while Alex’s arm was wrapped around the kid, both enjoying the movie. Alex then decided to keep spoiling the little girl and ordered some pizza for dinner, both sitting back in the living room and eating the pizza while they watched the movie.

Alex looked down at Amelia and caught her yawning and rubbing her eyes, giggling a bit. “Tired, princess?”

Amelia nodded. “But I don’t wanna go to sleep. I wanna stay here with you.” She looked up at Alex.

Alex smiled. “How about this…you go and prepare for bed while I clean up a bit, and when you’re ready, you come to me, and I take you to bed to read you a book?”

Amelia smiled. “And you gonna lay down with me?”

Alex nodded. “Yep.”

“Okay, sounds like a deal.” Amelia chuckled as she ran to her room to get her pajamas.

Alex chuckled softly as she got up from the couch and paused the movie, grabbing the box of pizza and plates, and heading to the kitchen. Not too long after, Amelia tapped on her back, making Alex turn to look at her. “Ready?”

Amelia nodded. “Teeth brushed, and pajamas on.” She smiled as she extended her arms.

Alex picked her up and smiled, walking to Amelia’s room, and throwing her in the bed, earning a laugh from Amelia as she positioned herself under the blankets and hugged her plushie. “So, what book does the princess want?”

“Uh…Green Eggs and Ham!”

Alex went to her small bookshelf and picked up the book, walking back to the bed and sitting down beside Amelia. “Okay, read it with me?” She looked down at Amelia who nodded, and then brought back her attention to the book.

They both started reading and Amelia laughed when Alex tried to make funny voices, throwing her head back and then leaning back on Alex. In the fourth or fifth page, she noticed that Amelia had gone silent, looking down and seeing that Amelia had closed her eyes and was slowly breathing now. She smiled softly and carefully placed the book on the nightstand, standing up slowly and then moving Amelia to lay down properly, putting the blanket over Amelia’s shoulder and kissing her head softly.

“Night mama.” Amelia whispered softly as she hugged her plushie tighter, smiling as she fell back asleep.

Alex’s heart stopped at the words, standing still as she stared at Amelia. She then reacted and turned off the light of the nightstand, walking out of the room and leaving the door ajar in case Amelia called her. She stood there for a moment again, not sure if she had heard right or if she had imagined it. She walked back to the couch and sat down, trying to grab her paperwork again but she only stared at it, her mind too distracted to focus on it. Amelia had called her mama. She called Alex mama. She really did that. And she just simply said it. She didn’t even noticed, she was too sleepy. Did she even think about it? Will she remember in the morning? Had she been thinking about calling Alex mama? Did y/n even knew about it? She was so entranced in her thoughts that she didn’t hear the door opening and y/n walking in. Y/n said hi to Alex, putting her things away but when she didn’t get any answer, she looked back at Alex as she frowned. She walked around the couch and sat down beside Alex, who was staring at the paperwork in her lap.

“Baby?” Y/n raised her brow as she placed her hand on Alex’s hand.

Alex shook her head and turned to look at y/n. “Hi! Hi, I- I’m sorry. I was uh…I guess lost.”

Y/n chuckled. “You don’t say.” She kissed Alex’s cheek and then stood up. “Is she asleep?”

Alex looked down at her watch and noticed that an hour had already passed since she sat down on the couch. “Yes! She’s been asleep for a while.” She looked up at y/n. “There’s pizza left, do you want me to warm it up for you?”

Y/n chuckled. “No, I got it. I see you spoiled my daughter.” She grinned as she looked at Alex.

Alex smiled. “It was our day, how could I not?”

“What else did you do?” Y/n asked as she grabbed the pizza and put it on a plate to warm it up.

“Uh.” Alex put aside her paperwork and then stood up to go to the kitchen with y/n, leaning over the kitchen island. “Well, we went for ice cream.” She smiled. “We came home, she played a bit in her room and then we watched some movies before we ordered dinner, and I noticed she was sleepy, so I took her to bed and read a book until she fell asleep.”

Y/n smiled as she leaned over the counter and kissed Alex’s lips. “Thank you for taking care of her. I’m sure she was the happiest.”

Alex smiled. “So was I.” She watched as y/n went back for her food and bit her lip for a moment. “There’s uh…” she looked down at her hands. “There’s something else.”

Y/n looked back at Alex and raised her brows. “What?”

Alex looked back at y/n, smiling softly. “She…she called me mama.”

Y/n’s heart stopped as she stared at Alex. “Alex…I-“ she cleared her throat. “I told her we would talk about it and-“

“She asked you if she could call me that?”

Y/n only stared at Alex as if she had been caught. “I mean…yes. She…she talked to my mom and my mom told me and I…I sat down with her, but I told her we needed to talk about it. I didn’t expect her to say it. I thought she had understood that I would talk to you about it. Alex, I am so sorry. I know we’ve only been dating for almost a year but-“

“I don’t mind.” Alex snapped, interrupting y/n’s rambling.

Y/n stopped talking and only stared at Alex again. “You…you what?”

Alex smiled softly. “I don’t mind.” She huffed a chuckle. “I really don’t mind.” She felt her eyes getting teary as she walked to y/n. “I…I really thought I never wanted kids. The job I have…working with kids that are victims…I’ve seen so much that I thought I’d never want that life or would want to settle with anyone. But you and Amelia really changed that for me.” She grabbed her hands and smiled. “I want you to tell Amelia that it’s okay.”

“You mean it?” Y/n smiled as she felt her own eyes getting teary.

Alex nodded. “I mean, if it’s okay with you, I don’t mind. But y/n…I want this. I want to do this with you. I want you and Amelia in my life, I cannot imagine my life without my two girls.” She chuckled softly.

“Oh, Alex.” Y/n’s smile widened as she wrapped her arms around Alex’s neck, kissing her lips softly. “I was so afraid you wouldn’t want this.”

“How could I not? You two are my girls.” Alex smiled as she pecked her lips. “We should move in together. Look for a place, or move to mine, we can make my guest room into her room.”

Y/n nodded. “We should talk about it.” She smiled. “I love you so much.”

“I love you more.” Alex smiled as she leaned down and kissed her lips softly.

#alex cabot x reader #alex cabot #alexandra cabot #svu fic #law and order svu #svu #alex cabot fic

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poursomesunaonme · 10 months

Text

taste you still !

pairing: miguel o'hara x fem!reader

summary: you've been the o'hara's babysitter for quite some time; miguel thinks it's time for a raise!

wc: 4k

a/n: i have nothing to say for myself - i wrote this in two hours off two glasses of wine LMAO

cw: minors dni (pls have ur age in ur bio)!, age gap (reader is in college), drinking (clear for consent tho), pet names (sweetheart, bunny, conejita, little girl), doggy, oral (fem and male receiving), handjob, 69, biting, edging, scratching, size kink, overstim, nipple play, squirting, modified missionary, finger sucking, unprotected sex, creampie, aftercare!

the tv flickers idly across the room as you fiddle with the hem of your skirt. gabriella had been asleep for a few hours. glancing at your phone, you find it’s just past midnight. it’s a warm, friday summer night. a soft drizzle begins to come down outside.

classes just finished for the summer. if it had been any other friday, you’d be out at bars tearing it up with your friends. however, the single dad you nanny for called you in last minute. you didn’t mind.

the moist rainy air from the outside defeats the advances of the air conditioner, and it’s beginning to get hot in the living room where you sit. you’re thankful for wearing light clothes, as it helps with the heat beginning to settle. the warmth and the sound of the rain to help your body settle, and you begin to doze off.

you jump as the lock clicks, signaling the return of your employer. you clear your throat and check your phone before putting it down, acting like you were watching whatever animal documentary was on the tv.

2:26am had blinked across your screen. the father enters the house with a quiet sigh, locking the door behind him.

“hi, mr. o’hara,” you say lightly as he hangs his coat and shakes his umbrella before putting it in a plastic bag to dry off.

“hey, sweetheart,” he says, trying to keep the noise down to keep from waking his daughter as he kicks off his shoes, too tired to care if they land strewn across the floor.

“how was your night?”

“i need a drink.” he chuckles, his footsteps receding into the kitchen to assuage his desire. “do you want one?”

he had never offered you a drink before. of course, you’re of age - it was just uncommon, given your position in his family.

“i, uh…” you stumble over your words. “sure. please. it’s been a long day.”

“i hope gabriella didn’t give you much trouble.” the crackling sound of ice breaking under an expensive scotch drifts from the kitchen.

“no, she was great. she just… she missed you.”

the words unspoken scream that you did as well, but you ignore them. it was delusional to think of him that way, but you couldn’t help yourself for that split second. it was rare to spend more than ten minutes with him when you helped him out with nannying - there was no reason for you to feel such an emotion.

“yeah… i missed her too.”

some underlying meaning laces his choice of words. the sound of his footsteps alert you to his presence before he reaches over the couch from behind you to offer you the glass. you jump slightly, but accept it. he sits heavily next to you, the couch creaking under his sudden weight. you both take a heavy sip of the drink. it slightly burns your throat, but you manage to choke it down anyway.

you’re aware of his identity, as it was necessary to be privy to such matters when taking care of his daughter. you had detailed protocols to follow in case of such emergencies and the like, but that didn’t mean that you would ask about his mission. you assumed the subject was off limits, and that strategy kept you in good graces with the man. instead, he asks you about how the end of your school was, if there was any issue in securing an apartment for the next semester, mundane things and the like.

you answer all of his questions politely. as much as you want to inquire about his missions, you refrain from doing so. he finishes his drink in no time, asking if you’d like another. you eye your drink then finish the whole thing, handing the empty glass back to him.

you swear he mutters “good girl” under his breath. it makes your stomach churn in a way you could have never imagined.

when he sits next to you with the drinks refreshed, it’s much closer. you feel the heat radiating off his body. the alcohol begins to course through your veins, and you can’t control the way your body easily gravitates toward him. you struggle against the muffling feeling, struggle to keep control of your body that so badly wants to be pressed against his.

“oh, did i make a mistake?” he murmurs when he notices your proximity. “want me to order you an uber?”

“no, no, mr. o’hara.” you shake off his offer. “i’m okay. thank you though.”

he pauses, swishing the alcohol in the glass before downing it swiftly. “in that case, i’m gonna go shower. you can leave if you’d like, or you can strip down naked and wait for me in bed.”

so i can finally fucking ravage you is the ending that he wishes to add, but he doesn’t want to scare you.

you’re taking a sip as he speaks, nearly spitting your drink out at his proposition. however, you keep your composure and say nothing as he finishes his drink in one swift gulp and gets up from the couch, leaving a shivering feeling through your skin.

the second he leaves earshot, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you had been holding.

you’re fucked.

it’s like he knows the way you look at him in those minute moments when he leaves and returns from work. it’s like he knows that you continuously brag to your friends about how handsome he was. it’s like he knows that you’ve said countless times that you’d jump him if you were ever given the chance.

but that was all just a silly little crush. you never imagined that he would actually give you the opportunity.

he’d made you an offer you’d be downright stupid to refuse.

which is how you end up splayed in his bed, the cool air of the bedroom chilling your skin. it was the obvious choice. your chest rises and falls with anticipation. the hopes of the man following through with his lewd offer brings on an ever-quickening heart rate. you adjust your position again and again, hoping that each following pose will please him more than the last and help assuage the nervous feeling gnawing in your gut.

just as you chose the simple option to lay back against the pillows with your legs folded delicately together to one side, the shower turns off. miguel doesn’t even bother drying off before he emerges from the bathroom in a dramatic billow of steam, wet gray-streaked hair tumbling into his face. small droplets of water roll off his naked body and splatter against the floor. the musky scent of his body wash hits your nose. it makes you dizzy. combined with the sight of him and the heavy alcohol rushing through your bloodstream, you’re completely susceptible to whatever plans he has in store. you lose your breath at the sight of his tan, toned body approaching you.

“get on your hands and knees.” the way he commands you is almost a detached sigh. you don’t hesitate to obey, however. without thinking, you get up from the position to poise yourself at the end of the bed in the way he ordered. your heart speeds up, pounding against your ribcage. this position already? skipping to the main event? you aren’t complaining, just surprised.

that feeling of surprise continues when you hear his knees heavily drop to the floor and his hands cup the globes of your ass and spread them apart. the cold air hits that warm center and you gasp. you gasp because the feeling is surprising and his lips press between your folds and you gasp because he groans so deeply at the first taste of you.

you’re fucked.

he takes no time to begin diving into every inch of your cunt. you clutch at the bedsheets, wincing at the cold droplets from his hair running down the back of your thighs.

“mr… mr. miguel.” you squeak, unable to muster up the brainpower to say anything else. he works like it’s necessary for him to keep breathing, like he can’t wait to do anything else, like he’s starving, and you’re the first meal he’s come across in days.

“is this okay?” he finally pulls back, drawing a gasp from your lips at the cold air hitting that warm place again. “just can’t… fuck… hold myself back.”

you make the mistake of craning your neck to meet his eyes at his panting candor. his face just barely hovers above your ass, hands still spreading you apart. you gulp at the sight of the shimmer of your essence on his lips. he pants heavily, broad shoulders heaving with the force of his breath. his eyes are gleaming, his pupils blown out with lust. he looks fucking crazy, hair tumbling into his face.

you can feel your face heat up at the sight of him, feel your expression fall as you acknowledge again and again and again: you’re fucked.

a nod is all you can manage to urge him to continue. you turn around and focus on the shiny silk pillows to ground yourself, bracing for the impact.

he merely grunts and dives back between your legs, splattering the last few drops remaining from his dewy skin onto you. it takes everything in you not to collapse when he begins working with an increased fervor. apparently, your words gave him great encouragement, as he intensified the movements, even daring to remove his lips from your folds to plant heavy, open-mouthed kisses on the backs of your thighs - and even daring to nip at the sensitive skin.

before you know it, you sink down into the comforter, fingers whitening in a death grip on the sheets for support. miguel doesn’t seem to notice - he’s too lost in the feeling of the increasing warmth on his tongue, of the blood rushing to where your body deems it to be.

just as you’re about to finish, he pulls back. it draws a whimper from you, but before you can utter a word of complaint, he straightens up and begins to rub his length between the sticky wetness that welcomes him. you whimper at the feeling, pushing your hips back against him as an invitation inside. he wastes no time in accepting, pushing into you once he’s amply coated.

your eyes bulge out of your head and you cry out a stilted moan as he doesn’t stop - not until he’s fully sheathed in you. you sink down fully into the mattress, only supported by his hands when they grasp your waist to hold your lower body upright. the beginnings of claws begin to poke into the meat of your hips. overwhelming feelings circulate through every part of your body. your mind begins to fog over. you can’t differentiate the feeling from the alcohol or the pleasure; they work in tandem.

he doesn’t waist time to begin thrusting into you, more surely than he’s done anything in his life. the rhythm is slow, but deep, and it drives you over the edge in no time. since he left you hanging from the ministrations of his mouth, the movements of his length deep within you shove you over the precipice of pleasure.

“miguel… please, don’t stop.” you whimper. your eyes roll into the back of your head and you feel a great weight press into your back. his lips appear on the shell of your ear.

“don’t hold back for me, bunny,” is the whisper. “let go.”

you do as you're told, whimpers muffled against the mattress as you give into the pleasure, squeezing and convulsing around his length. he licks behind your ear before nibbling on the lobe, drawing an extended moan that takes your breath away. you can’t muster up any words - no praise, no thanks. just incoherent sounds that express the feelings that you can’t articulate with the onslaught of pressure.

"mi conejita..."

miguel continues to rut into you like a wild animal. his body presses flush against your back as his hips move, only going deeper and deeper as he jerks them back and forth. there’s no relief, no breaks you get from his demanding size, from his desire to puncture you deeper and deeper until he finds his own sense of relief.

just as you finish, you think there will be a moment in the trembling of your legs that miguel will spare you. however, you’re wrong. the feeling of you constricting around him ignites a new passion in him, one that results in his lips meeting your neck, your shoulders, your back - one that draws his teeth into your skin.

a gasp escapes at the feeling of him nibbling on that sensitive skin, of the feeling of his hips continuing to mercilessly ram into yours. you don’t want him to stop. your hands clutch as the sheets, begging for some stability from the bed, but it doesn’t come.

instead, miguel’s hands wrap around your chest to pull you up as he straightens up. his grip tigthens as you settle pressed against his sweating, heavily chest. when you’re secured, his hands begin to move. first and foremost, they grab your chin to face him and without hesitation, his lips crash against yours. his fingers squeeze your jaw to pry it open and his tongue shoves down your throat. you whimper against him. he eats the sound whole.

his hands don’t stop once they leave your chin, trusting that your lips won’t leave his. they reach down to pinch and pull your nipples, wander down to rub slow circles into your poor overstimulated clit. the sound of his hips slapping against your raw skin is overwhelming, you can’t help but lean back into his chest for support, his tongue still craving the inside of your mouth. he grunts in surprise when you start to suck his tongue desperately. the sound simmers in his chest as he chuckles.

“you’re gonna be the death of me, little girl.”

you find yourself smiling, find yourself squeezing him as he moves inside, threatening to tear your insides apart.

“fuck,” he moans into your mouth. “christ, you’re tight.”

you moan and whine into his mouth, and he devours those sounds as well. the vibrations only spur him forward, only egg him on to continue ramming his hips into your body. his fingers rub unceasingly against your increasingly sensitive clit.

“i’m gonna-” you manage to slur around his overpowering tongue and teeth. “i’m gonna cum again.”

he groans, lowly and long. it’s a lewd sound, one that sends all the heat from your body straight down between your legs. it’s an encouragement, one that sends you over the edge within a split second. you moan, legs shaking as you begin to collapse onto the bed again. you can’t help the weakness, can’t help the fact that your legs turn to jelly as he rams into you with want and need that you can’t even begin to fathom.

you squeal as a fresh spurt of juices flow from your cunt, flow around his length, and down your inner thighs.

he swears again at the sensation of liquid beginning to run down his length, trickling down his own legs. “shit… shit… i-i need that. i need you to do that again.”

he pants and pulls out. you gasp at the empty feeling, but he doesn’t give you much time to process it fully before he lays down on the bed and snatches your waist, pulling you over to align your hips with his face. before you can utter a word of objection or acceptance, he yanks you into his face, burying himself in the warm grave of your cunt.

you throw your head back and moan weakly, tired and overstimulated from the last orgasms, but he doesn’t stop. his ministrations are unyielding, even when you plant your hands against his hips to steady yourself. his hard length stands in front of you, just barely out of reach of your mouth. you can’t help yourself from drooling at the sight, of precum spilling from the tip and mixing with your juices that still dribble down the veins.

you try to move forward, but he pulls your hips back stubbornly, shoving his tongue into you. you whimper, opting you reach your hand out to wrap around and pump his length until you can get your mouth on the impressive sight. he slows as he realizes what you want to do. he knows how much bigger he is than you. he slides up the pillows to sit up, closing the distance between you and your prize until your lips suckle on the tip, drawing a hiss from him. as if an attempt to silence the sound, his teeth sink into your asscheck.

“fuck,” you groan as the teethmarks in your skin join the bitemarks he left on your neck, back, and shoulders, still fresh and throbbing. you attempt to shake off the feeling and start to bob your mouth up and down on his length, drooling over the musky taste of his precum when your tongue trails down the base, every vein drawn like a map under your tongue.

he doesn’t let you indulge yourself for long before he jerks your hips back against his face once more, drawing your mouth from his length with a soft pop. you moan in indignation, attempting to lunge back to continue your work. however, miguel’s grip on your hips, the nails beginning to dig in the muscles, successfully stops you.

instead, you pump down his shaft, hoping that you’re pleasing him as much as he’s pleasing you. another wave of pleasure rolls over you, and you can’t help but whine at the vibration of miguel’s moans as he gulps down the juices that flow heartily from your center. his dick twitches in your palm.

“please…” you whimper. “please fuck me… please…”

“no” is the simple answer. “you’re cumming on my face, mi conejita.”

your cheeks heat at his unashamed lewdness, at how he so easily expresses his desire for you. how long had he been feeling his way? how long had he wanted to ravish you like this? he seems so resigned to his desires that he just can’t help himself anymore.

he gets his wish soon enough, pulling you so far onto him that his nose dips into your entrance, triggering an explosion of pleasure within you. he groans as your legs begin to shake around his face, as you give up on pumping his shaft because you can’t focus on anything else but not losing your mind at how good he makes you feel.

miguel doesn’t give you a reprieve in his agenda, slapping your ass twice to signal a position change before you can even catch your breath.

“get up,” he growls, and you obey. he pushes you down on the bed in his place - the pillows are still warm from where he sat, still damp from the juices running freely down his face and jawline to soak the sheets. without hesitation, he grips your calves and throws them over his shoulders. you’re completely powerless underneath him when he pushes into you fully, not waiting a split second to begin ramming into you, even deeper than before.

it’s nearly unbearable, especially when he grabs your wrists, crosses them with a single hand, and holds them over your head before his lips crash onto yours. your moans pour into his mouth, and he takes them without a second thought, returning them with equal fervor. each pound of his hips forces water droplets from his damp hair onto your shaking body. the way he presses down into you, the way the weight of him presses your thighs against your chest, the stretch aching, the opening angle of your hips for him to ram deeper into your warmth… it’s too much.

tears bead at the corners of your eyes when you open them to find him watching your face, even as he’s shoving his tongue down your throat. you feel the corners of his mouth turn up into a smile at the sight of you so weak with want, with desire. he looks fucking feral.

he pulls back, watching your reaction as he turns his head to press sloppy kisses to your calves, nipping at the skin. welting bumps appear under his mouth, like he’s decorating you in just the fashion he likes. when he’s finished, his lips crash onto yours again. he doesn’t stop, doesn’t show mercy, not even when you’re babbling for him to continue, to push you over the edge once more.

“i gotta…” he pants, finally drawing back from your lips to examine your whole body shaking against the rough motion of his hips bulldozing into you. a single line of spit still joins your lips. “i gotta taste you still… fuck.”

he thinks for a moment before his fingers dive between your folds, gathering an ample amount of essence before he raises them to your mouth, spreading the liquid across your lips. you can barely function at the lewd sight, even when he presses his fingers into your mouth, leading your tongue to swish around them and lap up every last drop. his face contorts when your lips close around his digits, sucking his digits dry.

his mouth crashes against yours, exploring every bud in your mouth with renewed fervor at the flavor of your cunt all throughout your mouth. you realize he had let go of your hands and you use the freedom to latch your nails into his back, clawing it to ribbons. he thrusts into you with refreshing vigor, spurred by the satisfaction of your taste, at your nails sinking into his skin, and the warm, pulsing feeling of your cunt around his length at the same time. he doesn’t last long, doesn’t make it much more time before he moans and whimpers into your mouth, warm cum spilling into you. he removes his mouth from your kiss bitten lips and opts to bite into your neck, so hard you’re afraid you’ll bleed - but it’s enough to send you tumbling over the edge with him. but it doesn’t matter, not when he’s groaning against you, fucking the last bit of himself into you, slowing his hips more and more.

when he’s finally finished, you squeeze your arms around him, removing your nails from his skin, welcoming him an embrace for him to collapse into. he accepts the invitation graciously, his full weight pressing upon you as your legs fall from their position on either side of his hips.

he sighs into your neck, into the satisfying feeling of his cum beginning to ooze from your warmth, down your ass, spilling onto the bed. there’s a few moments of wordlessness, the only sound echoing the room is breathless panting.

“well, consider this payment for watching gabi tonight?”

you laugh at his offhanded comment that breaks the silence and press a kiss onto his heaving shoulders.

“no, i’m still expecting the same rate.”

“in this economy? times are changing, sweetheart.” he raises his head to meet your eyes as you laugh. “i hear this is the new salary. don’t tell me you’re that opposed.”

“i’m not… of course not.” you laugh nervously. he chuckles at the sight of you getting so flustered. he swiftly rises, pulling out of you so fast that you barely have time to process it before he gets warm rags and towels from the bathroom.

he comes back and kisses your forehead gently, wiping the residue of the wild night from your body. it’s a tender gesture, one that you didn’t expect from the rugged creature. however, it’s not unwelcome.

“well, if you’d like to stick with me, i’m sure there will be some benefits in the future, if you’re willing to stay on.” he pauses and grins. “and it’ll be nice to have you here in bed in case i get called out in the middle of the night. you always sound so pissed at me when i call to wake you up.”

he dries off your wet skin with a towel before letting all of the material fall to the ground, forgotten. his body curls around you, the overwhelming size and warmth of him surrounding you.

you smirk, letting out a giggle at the continuation of the joke, heat pooling in your cheeks from the easy closeness he pursues with you. “of course, mr. o’hara. i don’t think anyone else could match such a wonderful deal.”

divider by: @/ffffffaatality

@dilftaroooo come n get it !

#miguel o'hara #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel x you #miguel o'hara x you #tw age gap #🪐beanie writes!

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randoimago · 5 months

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I see you’re doing Hades again! Could you do something with Zagreus x Reader where the reader is a smith in asphodel who offers to make Zagreus armor (maybe as a payment to get out of a contract of some kind?) and over a bunch of escape attempts they fall in love? Bonus points if reader is friends with Eurydice and Eurydice is So Done with the pining and obliviousness (it’s not like Zagreus shows up randomly, he picks which doors to open)

Mutual Pining

Fandom: Hades

Character(s): Zagreus

Note(s): I had a lot of inspo with this request so I hope you enjoy what I wrote <33

The first time he stepped through your door and saw you instead of Eurydice did cause some surprise to appear on his face. But he still greeted you politely. You introduced yourself and when he learned you're an armor smith, well that intrigued him.

And then he found himself visiting you more, bringing nectar as thanks for the upgraded bracers or shoes or whatever armor piece he chose when you gave him the options. He learned more about you and in exchange talked a bit about himself.

Then one day, he's going through the door in hopes to meet you. But then he sees Eurydice instead. It shouldn't surprise him too much since the doors don't exactly have the faces of who he'll be visiting. But he can't help feeling a tad let down. Zagreus still puts a smile on because he does like Eurydice a lot. She still sees through it and asks him about it.

Eurydice can't help but visit you after Zagreus leaves, you explaining that you were very busy and that's why your door wasn't available for him. But she sees through that to the fact that you're sulking too. She is very intrigued to see where this relationship goes. Only for it to go nowhere because you're both too shy or scared of whatever excuse you both have.

"So the kid visited you again?" There's a hint of smugness to Eurydice's voice as she asks you this question. She knows that Zagreus visits you often. He's mentioned it a couple times when he has visited her because your door wasn't around (it was amusing to see the prince sulk a bit).

You already know where she's going with her question, but she continues before you can say anything. "Look, I get it. Love is scary, you don't want to admit you're in love. I will spill everything if I have to deal with you both sulking because you haven't seen each other the next time he runs through."

While Eurydice is the sweetest lady you know (the only one really besides the few that Zagreus has told you about), she can be very scary when she starts threatening. So you, reluctantly, promise that you'll at least attempt to say something the next time he comes through.

Of course, what you don't know, is she gave this same speech to Zagreus before. He had said he was trying to find a nice gift in exchange for all the armor you give him. Something that isn't the same nectar and ambrosia. Eurydice gave him a list of things you like and he has been doing his best to find some of the items.

Zagreus had personally asked his father if he could do something so that your room showed up in Asophodel. While he tried to dodge any questions thrown his way, he saw his mother giving a knowing smile and she helped persuade Hades for him. Zagreus was relieved to get out of that situation and now his heart pounds as he feels the blistering heat around him with the icon of the door that leads to you.

Zagreus did bring some nectar for you, but he also has another gift. What he didn't expect is to see you having something more than armor for him. He takes the bracers from you before sitting down as you present him with some food. You explain that Eurydice helped you make it and that you hope he likes it. And of course he does, as he hands you a gift from Elysium, his own explanation being that Achilles and Patroclus helped him pick out something worthy enough for you.

While it's not quite a confession from either side, it's obvious that the feelings are there and there's more than just pining. Zagreus promises that you both will go fishing for his next run when he looks like less of a mess. He isn't expecting the kiss you give to his cheek, but his bright smile lets you know that he very much enjoyed it.

#Anonymous #hades game x reader #zagreus x reader

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licorice-tea · 5 months

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Don’t Fall In Love With Me (Yet)

Pairing: Trafalgar Law x reader

Content: strawhat!reader, gender neutral reader, feelings and fluff (my faves🤞🏽), so much tension, no resolution of that tension… yet😏, lowkey “i hate everyone but you” trope, very brief mention of some canon typical violence, but no actual violence <3

Word Count: 1.3k

A/N: lalalalala i love law😇 i actually wrote about twice as much as what’s here to begin with, but i felt like it was too long for one post, so i might upload it as a second part later if anyone wants that! as always ty for the love, and i hope you enjoy! (did i write this instead of finishing part 3 of my Zoro mini series? perchance. (that will be up soon though!))

Part 2

It’s a day like any other on board the Thousand Sunny- calm waters, music, occasional shouting, and just one abnormality. Law, captain of the Heart Pirates, is a guest on board the Strawhat Crew’s ship in the aftermath of Dressrosa. And despite their hospitality, he finds practically everything about life on board their ship to be draining…

Every potentially quiet moment is interrupted by the crew’s shenanigans.

For starters: the cook and swordsman argue over every little thing, and most of their arguments escalate into fights. The navigator is actually a petty thief or a con-artist at best, and her double, the sniper, takes it upon himself to cause dangerous explosions at least once a day. The musician is an incredibly loud pervert, though the shipwright is somehow even louder and more dramatic. The archeologist is alright- she’s quiet, but Law finds her constant observation more eery than comforting. And the captain is still somehow convinced that his doctor could be used as a source of “emergency food.” Then there’s you; the one who brings whatever you’re working on at the time up to the deck so you can work in the sunlight, wears your weapons like they’re accessories, who only takes breaks from working to visit with your nakama, and always offers a charming smile when you catch Law staring… which happens multiple times in the course of the day.

Law is often irritated, rigid, and cold- so different from your own optimistic and nonchalant demeanor. At breakfast, he doesn’t talk much. Just eats his meal and thanks Sanji before excusing himself to go pour over anatomy books from the ship’s library. He does so for hours, not once joining the Strawhat Crew on deck or even taking time to explore the ship on his own. Nami frequents the library, as well, but she’s taken to drawing maps in her room or on deck since their guests arrival. When night begins to settle overhead, he may return to the kitchen for a cup of coffee, before going right back to his work.

At first, one might have been inclined to think Law didn’t like y/n at all. They can often see his gaze trained on them form from the corner of their eye, but chooses to ignore it sometimes and address it with a smile others. He almost never speaks to them if possible, only offering a nod or a mumbled response to whatever they says. But, he goes out of his way to sit by them at mealtimes and to find himself in the same narrow hallways as them, so that their arms brush. Those are the moments he obsesses over in his mind while he dozes off from his textbooks- the feel of their skin against his, and their kind acknowledgements- always void of harsh judgment.

It’s not just the lack of cruelty in essentially eveything they do, to Law; it’s the presence of love. Love for their nakama, their work, people and places they barely know, even him. He doesn’t recall ever having met someone so full of love that goes beyond superficial kindness- because they can be sarcastic and moody at times- besides perhaps Corazon.

And to y/n, there’s just something about Law that peaks their interests. Maybe it’s the feeling of having someone new around, or something even more indescribable and foreign to the pirate.

Zoro is asleep in the men’s cabin tonight, so y/n is keeping watch. It’s the usual arrangement for the 2 night owls of the crew- when Zoro has truly exhausted his body, he sleeps below deck with the others, and y/n has no trouble staying up through the night.

They turn on some quiet music on their speaker, a must have for any music lover. For a while, they just watch the sea and sky. Nights at sea are like a blackout. But, there is no need for light with strong eyesight and the even stronger moon and starlight.

So it’s no surprise that they see, just out of the corner of their peripheral vision, the top of a white and black speckled hat bobbing up and down as it moves toward the kitchen. Y/n’s eyes widen ever so slightly and their breath catches in their throat. The guest makes them feel silly, in a way, for not being able to discern their own feelings toward him, nor his toward them. They get so caught up in their thoughts about him that eventually they give up. Y/n shakes their head, mentally chastising themself for even being embarrassed or flustered in the first place. And with that confidence boost, they decide to go talk to him.

Next thing they know, y/n is standing before the kitchen door with no plan in mind for what they’re going to say to their crew’s ally. They open the door, but he doesn’t look up from the coffee brewing on the stove.

Y/n clears their throat to announce their presence, and Law whips his head around to see who it is. They offer a friendly smile and a little wave.

“Hi.” They speak softly, as if afraid to break the peace of the night.

A beat passes with no response from Law. Internally, he wishes they hadn’t walked in on him at this moment. The light from the overhead lamp catches in their eyes, and he feels entirely too seen. Not in the way he feels seen by someone like Robin, though, whose constant observation makes him feel uncomfortable; like one wrong move and he’ll have hell to pay for. No; y/n sees him and he’s scared that he might start spewing nonsense to avoid revealing his feelings. And suddenly his cheeks are on fire, and everything is quiet, and all he can focus on is the stars in their eyes that he tries so desperately to look away from.

They tilt their head, likely in concern, and he pulls himself out of his thoughts to mumble, “Hey.”

“Cant sleep?” y/n questions, their starry eyes (as described by Law) flickering over the coffee pot on the counter and back to him.

Law shrugs, then pulls his hat lower over his eyes to hopefully hide his warm face. “I wasn’t trying to sleep.”

“Hm…” they hum in response, “Want to keep watch with me then? If you aren’t busy.”

He thinks they’re just being friendly, like always. When they first met, Law was confused. It made no sense for someone so mild mannered to have a bounty of well over 500 million (now almost double that amount in the time that’s passed), though he didn’t doubt that looks could be deceiving. But even in the midst of battle, of which the two had been in several together, they refused to take kill shots or anything of the sort. So he was still unsure of how they had earned such an impressive reward for their capture. Still, they clearly had a high regard for life, and he had come to learn that they truly were just that kind hearted, not to mention witty and generous. And judging by the “Sora: Warrior of The Sea” sticker he’d noticed on small a journal they carried, which was one amongst many; a bit of a nerd, too. All of these things and more had made Law secretly impartial to them. Or at least, those were the reasons he has listed in his mind to make sense of these feelings.

So he nodded, much to their surprise, and mumbled again “Sure.”

The curve of their smile opens up into a grin, and y/n leaves while fully expecting Law to follow (whenever his coffee was ready.) Which, he does.

#part 2?#one piece x reader #one piece x you #fanfic #one piece #law x reader #x reader #law fluff #trafalgar law #law x you #straw hats #straw hat pirates #straw hat reader #teehee #i love writing fanfic😇#new hobby😈

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dyns33 · 11 months

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The Big Cat

It was difficult but I wrote for Miguel O Hara ! Took me weeks, and I’ll try again, but I don”t know why, it’s super hard to write about him.

It was mainly to laugh and annoy him that Y/N was saying that Miguel was more like a cat than a spider.

It was also somewhat true.

Between his fangs, claws, heels, and demeanor, the leader of the Spider Society often looked like a big cat. Grumpy, territorial, asocial.

When he wasn't out in the field shutting down an anomaly, he stayed in his office, growling when someone came uninvited, and even when they were invited.

It was hard to be close to him, but many of them tried. Some managed it, a bit, like Jess and Peter. Y/N too according to them, although she wasn't always sure.

She remained hopeful, telling herself that if she really bothered him, he would have sent her back to her dimension a long time ago.

Even when she stood against him during the Miles affair, she was the only one not to be sent back to her universe. He didn't change his mind, but he listened to her, mumbling and sighing, because she didn't understand anything, but he didn't yell at her, he didn't threaten her, and she wasn't thrown into a portal.

But maybe he hadn't done it yet because he wasn't cruel. Y/N had no one in her dimension. People didn't like her, they saw her as a criminal, she had no friends, her crush (whom she hadn't even held hands once) had died falling from a roof.

The spider society was the best thing that had happened to her, and without her being able to explain why, she really wanted to be close to Miguel, the big cat.

Y/N wondered if it was irony when it was she who was turned into a cat by an anomaly. She had barely had time to teleport to HQ and now she was meowing desperately through the halls, trying to find someone who could help her.

Of course, it had to be the big cat.

It was always difficult to know what Miguel was thinking. He spoke little, and his face didn't often show emotion, except when he was angry. Very angry.

Regarding the animals, it was also difficult to know what he thought of them. There were Animal Spiders, but it wasn't the same. He treated Ham, Spider-cat and T-rex with respect, talking to them as if they were human.

Real animals were different.

"Hola." he said calmly, with his monotonous tone, approaching her. "Are you lost, little thing ?"

"Meow !" was the only answer Y/N could give him.

"Don't be afraid, amor. How did you get in here? Someone took you ? Well, whatever. You must be thirsty. Come with me."

Y/N had already seen Miguel with Peter's baby, and some children during missions. She knew he could be sweet. But he had never been like this with her, so it was a surprise to find herself in his arms.

He carried her to his office, where he offered her some water, before putting her on his lap and stroking her head. Dreamy. Y/N couldn't help purring. Eyes closed, enjoying the feeling, she didn't see him smile. Miguel never smiled.

"Lyla." he said pressing down on his computer. "Find out whose cat this is and how it got into HQ."

"I'm waiting."

"... Please."

"Right away, boss !"

As his virtual assistant disappeared to complete her task, Miguel continued to pat her head while concentrating on the screens of his many computers.

Most of them showed universes where certain anomalies had been reported, and which he watched very carefully. Others from the universes of spiders who had caused problems, like Miles, or who needed to rest, like Jess. There were images of a variant of Miguel with a little girl. And there was a screen with Y/N.

She stared at it, suddenly stopping purring, surprised to see herself here and not understanding why.

Like the big cat that he was, Miguel took note, looking down at her.

"What ? Do you want something, amor ?"

"Meow !"

“Hmm. Oh, her ? A nuisance, don't worry."

"You mean your tu pequeño favorito, tu dulce sueño, tu..."

"Lyla !" Miguel growled, waving his hand to blur the apparition, which made her laugh even more. "Shut up."

"Okay, I won't say anything about your secret. And I couldn't find anything on the cat, the cameras had a weird reception problem, and then we can see it hanging around the halls."

"It's not normal, find the reason for this concern. And... I don't want any comment, but I thought that Y/N had to take care of an anomaly. It's been several hours, she doesn't didn't send in her report. Did she come back ?"

"I think so ? Her watch beeped in this dimension. I'm inquiring, boss ! Don't panic, I'm sure your querida isn't far."

"Callate, idiota !"

Sometimes Peter B. annoyed everyone by saying that his daughter had magical powers and that holding her in your arms made it possible not to get upset.

Y/N could now tell that her cat version had managed to contain Miguel, who was flushed with rage, visibly ready to destroy everything around him and yell at Lyla, but just breathed very hard, gently holding her against him.

"I'm sorry, amor... It's fine." he reassured her by patting her neck. "It's just... I'm tired."

There were some things Lyla had said that had troubled Y/N, but the tall spiderman's sad look caught her full attention. She had never seen him like this.

There had been the story of the dimension he had destroyed. Moments when he stared into space. The huge Morales disaster, when some wondered if the spider society still had a reason to exist if their leader made so many mistakes.

Luckily, the majority had come to Miguel's defense, because as spiders they had all made mistakes, lots of mistakes, always thinking they were making the right decision and wanting to do good. Y/N was one of those.

Their support had seemed to please Miguel, even if he had hesitated to give up his place and go into exile. Since then, he had made efforts, he had been more careful.

Even if he continued to behave like an aggressive and grumpy feline with the younger ones who hurt themselves a little too much, and with Y/N who loved to tease him, and who also hurt herself a bit, sometimes.

"Meow." she said, rubbing her nose against Miguel's face, which brought up a sad smile.

"Thank you, mi amor. that's nice. I thought after Morales... But there are always anomalies. Always worlds to save. And always... Why can't she pay attention ? It's although she protects the little ones, like she protected Miles. She was right, I should have listened to her, but I couldn't risk destroying the entire multiverse for one man if she was wrong."

"I know, you already told me." tried to say Y/N. "Except that you were wrong, you never really said it, because you're too proud."

"Exactly. I knew you would understand. I didn't want to hurt the kid, or anyone. It was a shock when I saw his dad get up and everything was fine. So I thought I could... We could... But no, it's still too risky. And I don't think she'll want to. But she could at least take care of her own safety ! Mierda ! I've already lost... Everyone I love die. I don't want this to happen to her. I'm tired, amor. So tired."

Since he hadn't said her name, Y/N wondered if he was still talking about her, because she found it hard to believe that Miguel O'Hara, big lonely cat, was talking about love, and especially the love he felt for her.

If she teased him so often and wanted to be close to him, it wasn't because she was sociable. It was for another reason that seemed ridiculous and stupid. Until now.

Without realizing it, she had started to purr again, clinging to his neck. That seemed to help him a bit, as Miguel stopped shaking, caressing her and muttering a few words in Spanish.

It worked, until Lyla came back.

"Uh... Boss ?"

"What ?" Miguel muttered, keeping his face in Y/N's fur.

"Uh... No one knows where Y/N is."

"... What ?"

"Her watch beeped here, but we can't track it. No trace of her, no one saw her. The anomaly she was supposed to capture was attached, but not brought back."

"No. No no no !"

This time the cat was forgotten, placed on the desk for Miguel to get up quickly and run around the building, not knowing that the person he was looking for had been on his lap for almost an hour. And Y/N had no way to make it clear to him, not having her powers to follow him, and Spidercat not being there to do the translation.

She wandered all the same in the corridors of the Spider society, crossing several spiders which caressed her all the head before continuing to seek her.

At the end of the day, they all gathered in the cafeteria, Miguel in the middle, mumbling, shaking, rubbing his eyes trying to stay calm.

"... No one found her ?"

"No." replied Peter B., touching his shoulder. "Gwen, Miles, Hobbie and Pav went to town. Jess and Ben looked into other dimensions. I searched the whole building with the others."

"... But her watch is there. The anomaly was captured and unconscious. If she... Where is she ? Peter, where is she ?!"

"Calm down, Miggie. Y/N is gifted, smart and strong. I'm sure she's fine."

"What if she's not fine ?!" Miguel shouted, baring his fangs. "If she's hurt, or worse ?! I shouldn't have sent her on a mission alone ! I should have..."

"Do you want to hold Mayday ? It would be nice if you held Mayday."

"I don't want to hold your baby, estúpido, I want to find Y/N ! Where's Y/N ?!"

"Meow."

All the spiders then looked at Y/N, who had sat by Miguel's feet and was staring at him, purring. At first they thought it was cute. Then they wondered how a cat had entered the building.

And then, Miguel the first, they understood.

"... Y/N ?"

Normally, Miguel would have been reassured, while completely panicked by realizing that he had said a lot of things to Y/N in passing that she was a cat, and he would have gone and locked himself in his office asking Jess to find a solution, unable to face the situation.

It was a surprise for Y/N to find herself back in his arms, the big cat hugging her tenderly, caressing her neck and holding back what looked like sobs.

"Amor, I believed... I believed... Never do that again."

Throughout all the examinations and searches for a solution, he held her against his chest, growling when someone tried to take her from him.

It didn't take long for Lyla to figure out how the anomaly had transformed Y/N, and how to return her to her normal form. It was then that Miguel went to hide in his office, refusing to see anyone. Especially Y/N.

The big shy cat was sulking again in his corner.

Luckily, thanks to Hobbie, Y/N knew how to get in without being spotted. Very useful for pranking and annoying the boss. Very useful also to force him to have a discussion about his feelings.

"Hi Mig !"

"… What do you want ? Give me your report on your last mission ?" he asked without turning around.

"Oh, that. Yes, why not ? So, I found the anomaly, I caught it, but they turned me into a cat, I ended up in the spider society where a big sulky cat took good care me, because he has a soft heart under his muscles, and he loves me very much."

Y/N smiled then, waiting for a reaction, but nothing. Miguel continued to stare at his screens, showing no sign of annoyance or anger. She then guessed the face he was making. She jumped on the platform, near him.

Contrary to what she had thought, he did not move. He didn't hide his moist eyes, his sad and broken expression. He stood there, waiting for her to laugh at him and tell him that he was stupid, that he had made another mistake, that he had no right to be happy, to have someone, because anyway as soon as he loved someone, that person was hurt.

"And I love that ridiculous big cat a lot too. Lyla has found a cure, I'm me again and hopefully the big cat will come out of his den to come and have a coffee with me at the cafeteria ?"

This time, Miguel turned a little towards her, looking lost.

"... End of the report ? Happy ? We did a great job, it really deserves a coffee."

"Y/N..."

"For real. Great teamwork. We'll have to do this again. Well, not the part where I'm transformed, nor the part where you're scared because you thinl that I'm dead, but the long talk about feelings, the hugs, the purrs. It was mostly me, but I'm pretty sure you were purring too at some point."

"Y/N."

"I understood what you were scared of, and I guess I was scared of the same thing, and that's why you're avoiding me, and I wasn't trying to be more than your friend, but actually..."

"If I say yes to coffee, will you stop talking so much ?"

"No. Maybe. I do talk when I'm drinking, but it's rare, and I'm a bit cold afterwards because my clothes are wet. It's difficult to talk and drink at the same time."

Miguel sighed, frowning at his eyes, as he often did, but Y/N saw that he was hiding a small smile behind his hand.

He agreed to follow her to the cafeteria, where he sat across from her to watch her drink her coffee and listen to her talk over and over. The other spiders were intrigued, because the boss never came to the cafeteria.

Peter B. took a photo, because according to him it was important to have memories of the first date.

"It's not a date." muttered Miguel.

"My heart is bleeding, Mig. Ouch. I thought we had something special."

"It's just a coffee. For our first date, we'll go to the best restaurant in Nueva York, not the tower."

"Aaaaw, Miggie."

"I have pictures of Miguel holding cat Y/N."

Letting Peter take pictures was obviously not a problem for Miguel. But when Miles had finished his sentence, he turned to the young spider, who didn't seem to see the problem.

"What ? That was so cute ! It looked like a cat daddy with his baby cat !"

"I agree. I have pictures too." Lyla said as she appeared near the kid. "A lot."

"... Erase them."

"Send them to me." said almost all the other spiders at the same time.

"Morales."

"It's sent !"

"Miguel, don't start chasing the kid again !" Peter shouted as he followed them down the halls.

Y/N let them, knowing that Miguel wouldn't hurt Miles. He was only furious that evidence of his vulnerable side existed, because like cats, he was proud and stupid. So she finished her coffee waiting for him to come back to shyly ask her when they could go on their real first date.

#across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara imagine

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piratecaptainscaptainpirates · 7 months

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I've been thinkin' on it, and I think the biggest reason people are still insisting that Ed is just awful and abusive and whatever (aside from the racism of it all) is because the writers of OFMD fundamentally assume that viewers will like him and be on his side.

And, like, that is one hell of a reasonable assumption. Before s2 we spent a lot of time getting to know Ed; we see he's very sweet and smart and can be silly, and his self-esteem isn't great and he already has a lot of self-destructive tendencies and struggles with believing he can have nice things. These are all things we see in s2 and none of them should come as a surprise. We've gotten to know Ed and in s2 the writers assume we will be able to grant him even the barest ounce of sympathy.

"But he's being super violent and hurting the crew!" Ed's behavior at the beginning of s2 is best described as "a bit over the top" in the context of the show, and before he pulls out all the stops trying to get the crew to mutiny on him in his suicide attempt, he never actually hurts anyone except for Izzy (Izzy's the guy who threatened him and caused all this, or he'd still be crying in his blanket fort at the start of the season. OFMD has ALWAYS had a "talk shit get hit" philosophy and Izzy should not be the sole exception).

"But he never had to face any consequences for his actions!" I think almost getting beaten to death and then having to spend an entire episode convincing yourself you deserve to live is a pretty big consequence, actually.

"But he never apologized!" The group apology in s2e5 was obviously a joke (Stede clearly wrote it anyway and made Ed memorize it, look how Stede mouths along and Ed fumbles his lines), and it's pretty clear that Ed's conversation with Fang is meant to represent what he's doing with everyone. He's trying. He thinks up a way to try to give Lucius closure, even though it doesn't work, and when Fang mentions something Ed did that hurt him, Ed immediately and genuinely apologizes. It is not a wild jump to assume Ed's doing that with other characters and the show just assumes we're smart enough to figure that out from context considering how the crew are good with Ed again in s2e6.

"What if he hurts Stede/is abusive to Stede?" Multiple characters ask Stede something to this effect, Stede says "that's really stupid, of course he won't," and Stede is right. Question easily answered.

We're shown that Ed's response to being hurt and upset is not immediately violence. His first response is to go and hide and make himself feel safe - tub, blanket fort, hiding under the blanket and Anne and Mary's. Violence is Ed's response to feeling threatened. There's a difference. We're shown this over and over and over again, and frankly the only reason I think some people miss it is because they don't care to think about what's making Ed feel threatened in the first place.

It's just so clear that some people watching this show care so little about Ed and only care about what he can offer in a scene with other characters. Ed did not enjoy anything that happened at the beginning of the season - the last time we see him in s1 he's sobbing his poor eyes out and that's implied to have been consistent through s2e2. He's suicidal and having a miserable time and yes, he's hurting people who care about him, but it's not just for funsies, it's because he's trying to get himself killed. It's wild to me that some people can turn on the Ed and Stede show, see Ed pull himself out of such a terrible place by the end of the season and commit to a life with his boyfriend, and think that the show is setting up Ed to be abusive or imply he hasn't gone through any character growth and just coasted through the season.

#ofmd #our flag means death #cw suicide #i got mad again. sorry #i'm just gonna have to block the ed/izzy tag on ao3 because even these fic summaries are making me insane

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seresinhangmanjake · 2 months

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Stolen Angel - Part 5

Demon!Jake Seresin x reader

Summary: You thought you were having a one-night stand with some random, normal guy. Turns out he’s a winged, demon-like stalker who has been obsessed with you for years.

Warnings/Notes: Jake is a little dark. Kidnapping. Manipulation. Obsessive behavior. Eventual smut and happy stuff. I’m sure there are typos. This used to be a different fic for August Walker, so if you see it, it’s fine. I wrote that one too.

Words: 3550

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

JAKE POV

Jake sighs at the knock on his door and sits up in his bed. It’s too early. Last night was long, watching you struggle to not verbally defy his every attempt to help you. But your wing was inflamed, which would soon lead to your back becoming inflamed, and he knows you’re intelligent but is it so hard to understand that not taking care of the injury could mean infection? Being here does not make you immune to such ailments and yet you puffed and huffed and barely held your tongue at his cleaning the area and applying a bandage with ointment. And just when you’d had a conversation with him about you being good. Terribly disappointing. You better shape up if you intend to get what you want.

“What, Javy?” Jake calls at the second knock.

Javy enters Jake’s room and leans against the door after closing it behind him. “So? You taking her?” he asks.

“Possibly,” Jake says, throwing his legs over the side of the bed. “There are stipulations, but she’s determined. She’ll do whatever she has to to get there.”

Javy raises a brow. “Does that explain her cozying up to you yesterday?”

A slight smirk sneaks onto Jake’s face. ‘Cozying up’ is definitely one way to describe what you were doing the day before, although your actions were nowhere close to how affectionate you’re capable of being. There is plenty of passion in that body of yours that a few soft touches don’t do justice, but for now Jake will take what he can get.

“It does,” Jake confirms with a nod. “She’s my clever little angel, but manipulative attempt or not, it’s not like I’m going to push her away.”

“Oh no, of course not,” Javy snorts. “You? Do the respectful thing?” With a shake of his head, he lets out a low whistle to which Jake rolls his eyes. The sarcasm in his friend’s tone is wildly unappreciated.

“Do you honestly expect any better of me?”

“Not these days,” Javy says, “but is it so horrible of me to want you to see the error of your decisions and change? When I offered you a life here you were a different man.”

A different man. A weaker man. A man who had nothing left to live for.

Losing everything he once cared about—that is what changed him, but who’s to say the man he is today isn’t who he was always meant to be? Maybe it burrowed inside of him long ago and was waiting for the encouragement to expose itself. And what is so wrong about that? That doesn't make him a bad man.

He was a man who was missing the drive and purpose he needed. But then—despite being under the cruelest of circumstances—he found it. And when you find purpose you have to take hold of it and claim it any way you can before it’s ripped away from you. If Javy still can’t understand that then it must be the type of thing you have to live for yourself in order to grasp how it feels.

Jake’s eyes contain a challenge against his friend’s stare as he leans forward to brace his elbows on his knees and clasp his hands. “You try having Fate fuck you over, and then we’ll see the kind of man you become,” he says.

Javy sighs and crosses his arms. “I’m not denying the poor timing of your first meeting, but you coped with that for years, and now that you’ve snapped–”

“I haven’t snapped,” Jake snaps.

“Yes, you have. She was moving up in her life, finding some happiness, trying to make some friends at a new job, and then you took her,” Javy tells him, but not to chastise. That lecture was one Jake received weeks ago and Javy knows another won’t alter what has been done. “And you can’t keep her in The Tower forever. When this catches up with you—because it will—what do you intend to do?”

“She will love me by then.”

“You’re hoping she will love you by then,” Javy counters, “And you’re hoping when questioned, she’ll lie for you.”

Jake groans and shoots to his feet, running a hand through his hair. Gesturing in the general direction of your room, he says, “If she loves me then she’ll be lying for both of us because she’ll know it’s the only way we can be together.”

“And if she doesn't?”

“I'm not entertaining ‘if she doesn't’,” Jake says harshly. “She will. I’ll get rid of that stubbornness and she’ll remember why she wanted me in the first place.”

Javy pushes up from his leaned position, nearing the blond. “She wanted you because the two of you had some kind of carnal pull to one another, but–”

“It’s more than that,” Jake stops him. “We share more than that. She just refuses to see it.”

But you will. You’ll come to your senses. He knows that it’s more than sex, but it’s because of that sex that he believes something in you felt him over the years even though you did not see him. That’s why it was so easy to come together that night. You don’t sleep with just anyone. You’re picky and careful, as you should be, but you showed no reservations when giving yourself to him. You weren’t timid when he stripped you of your clothes; you were too focused on ripping him out of his. You weren’t embarrassed by your sweet moans and pretty cries. You were comfortable around him, and you will be again.

When Jake realizes Javy hasn’t spoken, he shoves his thoughts aside and pays closer attention to the look directed his way. It’s a medley of emotions. Skepticism and concern. Cautious hope and pity and acceptance. Acceptance of what, it’s hard to determine. Impending doom, likely, since Javy’s so sure of its inevitability.

Finally, Javy blinks. His lips stretch into a thin line, then he says, “Be smart about this, Jake.”

And Jake replies, “I’m always smart.”

“You're not,” Javy has no shame in telling him. “That's the problem.”

—

READER POV

“You can’t speak to anyone from your past, you can’t be seen by anyone from your past, you have to stay in my sight at all times, and you can’t do anything that would jeopardize our ability to return here on time,” Jake says. “You break any of these rules and I drag you back before midnight.”

Raising a brow, you cross your arms over your chest. “You think I can’t manage that? I’ve complied with everything you’ve asked of me for two whole weeks.”

Everything down to accepting his cupping of your cheek one night as he nearly kissed you. He hadn’t though, and his reasons for pulling back instead of taking what he wanted as he’s so used to doing robbed you of four hours of sleep.

“I wouldn’t put it past you to go rogue,” he says. “But you can’t. There are actual consequences I can’t protect you from.”

Yes, you know. He has mentioned that often. “Consequences, Angel. There are consequences to not following the rules.” For the last couple of weeks, it has felt like hours upon hours of the same droning on, the same lesson as if your short-term memory is flawed. But then he’d thrown in “It's your first time, and there’s a chance you’ll forget everything I’ve told you the minute you touch foot down there. You’ll be tempted to break them.”

That was what finally struck a cord of concern.

Of course, it had crossed your mind to break them, even though you’d known of Jake’s fate when he had done the same, but if he had to warn you of the temptation, you wondered how tempting it would really be. Would you be spending your precious, limited time there miserable because of the invisible chains on your wrists and ankles and the gag in your mouth as you try to resist the desperation to bond with the life you left behind?

“How tempted?” you had asked.

You were taken aback by one look from him. A harshness was in the green, but you are no fool, and you could see exactly what it was concealing. A memory—pain.

“Incredibly,” he’d told you. “At least, I was. And I paid for it.”

You hadn’t responded, but you kept his words in the back of your mind, ultimately deciding to trust in your strength. It was either that or risk never seeing home again, and that wasn't, and isn’t, an option for you.

“I’m not going to do anything, Jake,” you swear.

He peers into your eyes a little too long, but you let him search for the lie that isn’t there until he’s satisfied. He blinks and then gives a sharp nod. “Good,” he says. “Then close your eyes.”

“What?”

“Close them,” he repeats. “You don’t need to know how to get where we’re going.”

Another thing to comply with. Rolling your eyes, you drop your arms to your sides. Jake pulls a blindfold out of his jeans pocket and folds it in thirds.

“Seriously?”

He looks up and steps closer. “Close, your, eyes,” he instructs again.

With a sigh you do as he says, then he wraps the fabric around your head, tying a little knot in the back.

“This is–” Stupid, you were going to say, but you’re cut off by the yelp that escapes your throat when you’re suddenly lifted into his arms, your legs and wings draped over his forearms.

“Hold on Angel,” he says.

Your hands clasp behind his neck. “Yea, no kidding.”

When he shoots up into the air, you have to tuck your head against his t-shirt to block out the rush and whirl of wind that’s quickly encompassing you. It’s all too fast, the pressure much too extreme that you feel as if you’ve gained thirty pounds in ten seconds. It’s the initial take-off of the rollercoasters at the theme park you went to as a child. The kind of feeling that locks your limbs in place.

However, it’s not long that you’re going up before you begin to fall back down at a speed that suggests the man holding you can’t fly and you’re about to greet the end of your life. The sharp change in movement twists and curls your insides. Your lungs are confused, unsure whether inhaling or exhaling would better suit you at the moment. You don’t know, so you don’t breathe.

Jake lands with a thud and sets you down on wobbly legs. One large hand wraps around your upper arm; the other slips the blindfold over your head and back into his pocket. You’re well-hidden behind a large tree as your eyes adjust to the bright neon lights that bleed from the city night.

Home. You’re home. You’re at the far end of a sidewalk by the docks that no one visits after six o’clock in the evening, but it’s still home, and you already feel yourself being sucked in by the central bustle of bodies and cars.

You take a step forward, much weaker than you intended, and Jake’s grip on you tightens.

“Not yet,” he says. “You need to shed your wings.”

That detail had escaped you, the excitement too overpowering. But you keep that excitement from showing on the outside, just as you had when he’d told you a few days ago that removing the wings was possible for you, too.

Standing taller, you prepare yourself for more instructions.

“Close your eyes again,” he begins, his voice a deep vibration in your ear. “Clear your mind. Create an image of your wings and the feathers plucking free, falling to the ground one at a time until you have no more. Picture the bone and cartilage crumbling,” he says. “And keep doing that until you feel the loss of the weight.”

It takes at least a full minute, but you’re lighter. When you look down, your feathers coat the ground, a few layered with his. Like ash and snow.

“Good,” he says, but his tone doesn’t match the praise. It’s the slightest bit wounded as if he’s grieving something he held dear.

You turn your head. Your eyes flick to his and you find them glued to your back—your back which is now bare of the one thing that shows the world you’re something other than human.

His Adam's apple bobs. “Let’s go,” he says.

“Where can we?”

“Anywhere that keeps you from running into someone that would recognize you or would’ve been concerned about your sudden absence.”

That definitely knocks out work, the old late-night cafe you used to frequent, the park on third—too small. But as far as you know, everything else is fair game. And if it’s not, you’re sure Jake won’t hesitate to inform you.

—

The temptation he’d warned you about isn’t as aggressive as you anticipated. It’s there, for sure, but you don’t find yourself itching to be bold. There’s no one you wish to see, and you skirt the perimeters of the locations you choose because of the thought that you might fuck up and give him reasons not to bring you back in the future.

He should be thrilled with your behavior. He should be riding one of his ego trips from getting you to do what he wants without additional scolding, but that’s not what’s happening. Instead, he’s worse by the hour.

Occasionally his eyes light up when you smile or chuckle at the places and things you haven’t seen for the month that has felt like a year, but between your grins and laughs, his face hasn’t once failed to fall.

He has taken to trailing behind you. If both hands are not in his pockets it is because one is running through his hair or down his face. To your statements, he hums. To your questions, he mutters answers. He hates it, you realize. All of it. Almost as much as you hate the place he has forced you to exist in ever since he took you.

His mood is only exacerbated by your desire to go to your apartment.

“Can you hold this?” you ask as you raise the window. “Won’t stay up, and maintenance ignored all of my requests.”

Jake nods, placing his hand on the base of the sill so you can ease yourself through the opening. You do the same for him as he steps off the fire escape onto the ragged carpet of your living room floor.

You take in the space, and it’s so…weird. Not a thing has shifted from the place you left it. The only additions left out of the memory you’ve kept in your mind are the layer of dust coating every surface and the slip of paper under your front door with Eviction Warning written in red lettering. And the smell. It doesn’t smell like you remember. You’re not immediately soaked in the scent of lavender essence left over from the half-burnt candle on the side table.

“Feels like I’ve been gone forever,” you say. You look over your shoulder at Jake. “Does time move differently there and I just didn’t notice?”

His hands are back in his pockets. His eyes are tired. “No, Angel,” he says.

Your sigh fades into a hum.

As you move about the room, you measure it all with your eyes.

Your couch. You always sat on the right. That cushion is more worn than the other two.

The lampshade is still crooked from when you last changed the lightbulb. Its poor alignment had caused a slight burn mark in the material from the shade leaning against the heat of the bulb, and yet, rather than straighten it out, you had twisted it on its diagonal axis so the mark faced the wall.

The TV remote is nowhere in sight, of course, because you were never the best at remembering where you put it down; a habit so frustrating you’re tempted to hunt for it now.

Your coffee table still has the scratch in the middle from when you’d dropped your mug onto the wood, shattering it to pieces. That had pissed you off. You’d just bought it from the flea market.

A mug—you’d left one out that morning. You turn your head to your kitchen where it still sits on the counter.

You walk over and grab it. There’s a coffee ring in the bottom, so you take it to the sink and wash it out, then flip it over to dry on a dishcloth. You weren’t a fan of leaving dishes scattered about, even for half a day, but you don’t know why it ever mattered. Since moving in, no one had entered this place but you, and well…him.

Suddenly, something deep and thick descends upon you. Though the space around you appears to have frozen in time from the moment you disappeared, there are things that did not freeze along with it that you can’t ignore.

Like the food in your fridge and the special chocolate cookies in your cabinet that the grocery store rarely had in stock. Rotten and stale. What a waste.

There’s a plant in your bathroom—a little one that relied on your sense of responsibility to keep it alive. It sits on a shelf in a dark purple pot you’d found on sale and now brittle leaves surely litter the tiles.

And, oh god, the cat. You used to leave a bowl of tuna out for the stray cat that climbed the stairs to paw at your window. What about him? Is he ok? Did he give up after being ignored? How long did that take? Did he feel abandoned? Does he miss you?

Bracing your hands on the counter, your head falls forward. You close your eyes and take a breath, and then you open them and—Fuck, there’s a cheerio on the floor. You forgot the damn cheerio; that tiny ring of processed wheat from breakfast that has been hanging out here in limbo wondering if it’ll be trashed or devoured by ants because you were running late that morning and told yourself you’d throw it out later but you didn’t and so there’s a fucking cheerio on your floor.

You can’t look at it, but then you don’t know where to look, or what to do. You don’t dare go into your bedroom. The sheets will be rumpled. Your underwear will be wherever it landed when it was taken off your body and tossed aside.

Shit, the laundry! You forgot to take it out of the washing machine. Mildew probably grew in the creases and folds. They'll have to go through the cycle again. You'll need detergent. You're out of detergent—used the last of it on the load that needs to be rewashed. Your favorite t-shirts are mixed in there somewhere. But it’s fine. You’ll do a quick wash, quick dry, quick fold, and put them in the drawer where they belong. How long could that take? An hour? Two? You have enough time, right? And while you're at it you really should set some tuna out and get rid of the spoiled food and fix the lampshade and find the remote and apologize to the plant and–

“We can pretend, Angel,” Jake whispers from behind you, making you jolt in your spot. You didn’t hear his approach—he keeps doing that—and he’s so close that his breath flutters wisps of your hair. “Forget everything, for a bit. Be the way we were that night.”

His disruption sidetracks you from the laundry, the cheerio, the cat, the plant, the food. For a second, you can barely process his words, but it doesn’t take long for the confusion to sort itself out.

You swallow. “I thought I wasn’t allowed to be human anymore,” you whisper, reminding him of what he has drilled into your brain again and again and again.

“You’re not,” he says. Then his arms are flanking your sides, palms pressing into the edge of the countertop. “But we look the part, don’t we?” Hot air is on your neck. You think you can hear his heart thumping. “Just tonight. Just here.”

Just here. Here, the last place you were before he made you into the creature you are. Here, the last place you can say that you were entirely you. Here, the last place you spent a happy moment. Your final happy moment. A moment that included him, back when you believed you were bringing home some guy. Just some guy. A beautiful guy. A human guy.

You liked that human guy.

You miss that human guy.

Sometimes you wish he'd show up again. Save you and promise you it was all a nightmare.

“Why?” you ask.

“Don’t ask why,” he answers. “Just tell me yes.”

And because you don’t want to go back to thinking about what you’ve lost; because you’re uneasy and overwhelmed and numb and weak now that you're realizing home really isn’t home anymore but a ghostly echo of who you were, you don’t possess the mental wherewithal to care about your decisions. All you want is a memory—a good memory—within your reach.

So you turn yourself right around, and you kiss him.

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