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fanaticsnail · 4 months

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Lips Brushing

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Masterlist Here, Part 1 Here

Word Count: 5,182 (Yeah, "drabble" I say)

@alphaash99 offered this snail a piece of lettuce cut into hearts and stars. I had no choice.

PLOT: Sanji is in a relationship with the ship’s chronicler. After Zoro was invited to take a front row seat at witnessing their intimacy within the kitchen as the crew docked to resupply, Sanji can’t get the thought of watching the swordsman please you the way he does.

Warnings: Smut, f!reader, voyeurism, mdni, p in v, oral f receiving, "good girl" gendered term used, consent, throuple chemistry, “Hime” - Princess.

Tag List: @sordidmusings @feral-artistry @gingernut1314 , @vespidphoenix @alphaash99 @i-am-vita @cinnbar-bun

For the following weeks, the three of you would find any excuse you could to join together away from the remaining members of the crew. If there was a need to resupply food at a nearby town, the chronicler, the chef and the booze-headed swordsman were required to go together. If the swordsman was in need of buying items used to sharpen and maintain his swords, Sanji would be in tow to get a new sharpening stone for his kitchen knives where you would be required to tally the amount of crew finances needed balancing within your logbook.

Those things did end up working quite well for the three of you, very useful to have the three of you managing yourselves in such an easy rapport. But these things only occurred after Zoro’s eyes met with yours as Sanji pleasured you in all ways he knew how. In an alleyway, in a cheap inn for the afternoon, on the beach away from other prying eyes, in a public booth at a tavern taking residence in a corner booth; all hands, tongues, lips and Sanji’s pretty cock.

Aboard the ship itself lies the problem. Barely being able for you and Sanji to make yourself scarce to enact your lewd fantasies in the arms of one another, let alone the other member of this unusual dynamic you found yourself within. Zoro and Sanji both had an intense rivalry, although, in this particular set of circumstances, found teamwork in chaperoning you throughout the halls to watch you come undone within the chef’s skilled hands.

Zoro adored watching the lights dance behind your half-hooded eyes, your lips parted and soft moans and mewls exitted your mouth in soft utterances of Sanji’s name. He could barely contain himself, white knuckles gripping the surfaces close to him to restrain his empathetic pleasure at witnessing your post coital bliss. As the warm flush arose after the final after waves of your orgasm crashed over you; he adored watching your eyes meet his with a sense of warm pride and accomplishment - only after you would shower your lover with the rightful praise he deserved.

Sanji also found himself feeling some foreign emotions. Having Zoro in the same room as him drove him to perform more skillfully, chase your highs with more precision, and worship your body with more showered adoration. His favorite part to witness was, however pleasurable the experience he encountered with you was, when you would meet Zoro’s eyes with a love-struck, fucked-out expression you used to favor for only his eyes. He couldn’t explain it, but it felt like you were gloating about his accomplishments in front of his shipwide rival; wearing it like a badge of honor as he splashed your needy walls with ribbons of his hot cum.

And he couldn’t help but wonder what it was like to be on the receiving end of such an expression. Would it bring you closer? Would it feel as blissful as it did while you were riding him? Would he, like Zoro, cum immediately with little to no stimulation.

He simply had to know.

However, a factor remained in play that he did not know quite how to address. You and Zoro had never truly allowed yourselves to touch romantically - a forehead touch, Zoro placing a kiss on your forehead as Sanji delivered on his promise of aftercare.

Zoro liked to watch, not to engage. And Sanji needed to change that.

You were sitting cross legged on the deck, basking under the rays forming beneath the rising morning sun. The waves swayed the ship as you tapped your pencil within the pages, your eyes darting out as you continued to take your watch shift and take note of any irregularities. You glanced back down onto the pages of your notebook, the silhouette of your beloved chef adorning the dotted pages with his shadow.

You looked up, eyes softening as he presented your coffee to you with an extended hand. Shooting you a playful wink, you reciprocated with your eyes searching his own with a wordless expression of gratitude and adoration. You took the mug from him and placed it beside you as you continued to look over your words within the pages.

Looking further down within the coarse pages, you flipped over the page and began to journal the timetable for the upcoming shore expedition; drawing a small swirl to indicate some time with your chef scheduled within its pages. Sanji plonked himself at your side, circling his arm around your shoulders and began placing a trail of kisses against your upper arm.

“Sanji,” you giggled, swatting at him with your notebook, “Sanji, I’m trying to work.” He hummed in response, trailing up to place several kisses against your shoulder and bringing his lips over to your neck.

“Sanji, someone will see,” you commented with surprise written over your face. You turned to him, folding your book in half while wedging the pencil within its pages. His eyes were dark, playfully twinkling in his blown pupils. He brushed the back of his fingertips gently over your jaw, ushering your chin into him and placing the beginning of a slow and deliberate kiss against your lips. Your lips curled into a smile, eyes wide in shock at his unrestrained expression of love and lust: your situationship not yet, you assume, common knowledge to the rest of the Straw-Hat crew - aside from the third member of this unusual dynamic.

The third member, who had just begun his slow ascension to join you above deck; his footfalls halting as he witnessed the slow and romantic kiss expressed between you. Although he had been invited to watch you two engage with each other prior to this: this felt more taboo to witness than any expression of lust. This was love, he was certain of it. He was about to turn and make a miserable descent below decks once more, halting only at the sound of his name pouring like molasses from the lips of the chef.

“Have you ever thought about fucking Zoro?” Sanji asked you between slow kisses, relishing in the small squeak rising in your lips, along with your full body halting its reciprocation of Sanji’s passion in rigid stupefaction.

“Sanji, what are you-,” you began, silenced by a deeper and sweeter kiss placed against your lips. His lips entangled effortlessly with yours, romancing your heart with its gentle, yet firm clasp. He moved his hand to the back of your neck, massaging the flesh beneath his splayed fingertips to lessen your burden from the prior night watch.

“Dove,” he began after removing his lips from yours. He met your eyes with a seriousness you had not seen within them for some time. You were entranced within his glance, hanging onto his every breath as he uttered the unspoken confession he so desperately wanted to share with you.

“Dove, I want to watch you fuck Zoro.”

Your eyes widened, your lips parting as a gasp fled from your lips. Watching the lustful look Sanji was throwing at you was as tantalizing as tasting an indulgent dessert Sanji had prepared just for you. He meant every word he spoke, nothing withheld in his desire to watch you come undone on Zoro’s cock.

Mind racing with a thousand unspoken thoughts; never once in the weeks this dynamic had begun had you ever pictured yourself with anyone other than Sanji. He was your man, and you his woman: although neither of you had ever spoken this aloud to one another. Without realizing it, you had begun subtly shaking your head at the notion, prompting Sanji to nod with a sly smile attached to his playful lips.

“Sanji, I don’t know what you want me to say,” you confessed, eyes spiraling in searching between his gray eyes and darting down to witness the end of the balled piercing attached to Sanji's oral frenulum as he danced it within his teeth.

“Say-...” he began, pressing his forehead against your own with his eyes crinkled in a playful smile, “...-Say: ‘I want to fuck Zoro while you watch, Sanji.’ That’s all I want to hear departing from your pretty lips.”

Zoro was held in stasis, unable to make a sound, movement or take a single breath as he overheard every word spoken between you and your lover. He waited in the shadows of the morning, holding firm in his position within the doorframe leading to the lower decks. Patiently, he held strong and firm against the wooden frame to hear what he never thought possible spring into the light from your lips.

“I want to fuck Zoro while you watch, Sanji.”

“That’s my girl,” Sanji praised you, pressing a chaste kiss atop the tip of your nose before reaching down and claiming your notebook within his skilled hands. You remained stunned in your expression, hands shaking after speaking aloud this confession.

Sanji furrowed his brows, his tongue flicking out to dampen his lower lip in concentration as he scribbled within its pages. He nodded once he had completed what he sought out to do within your chroniclers’ journal, closing the book and placing it within your outstretched hand.

“Your coffee is getting cold, Dove,” he uttered lovingly, pressing a chaste kiss against your hair before standing from his position beside you. You blinked rapidly, still processing exactly what was uttered between you. You had yet to even kiss Zoro, not realizing that was an element of the relationship permitted to be expressed between you. Should you kiss him first? Should you kiss him with Sanji? How was everything meant to go within this dynamic-?

“-Let’s see if it’s something he’s keen for first, hm? Maybe start with a kiss without me?” Sanji called over his shoulder as he made his way back to the kitchen, “Maybe you won’t even enjoy it that much. Stupid Marimo wouldn’t even know what to do with you, I think.”

You darted your startled eyes in front of you, wide in surprise: eyes meeting and reflected in the startled expression of the tri-sword wielding first mate. Meeting his eyes startled you more, your warm flush rising against your cheeks before you tore your eyes away from the two men. You shook your head as you heard Sanji’s feet descending away from you towards the kitchen, opening your journal to the page it was priorly set on. Next to the small schedule of a swirl for Sanji, a crude drawing of three sticks with thick ends lay directly beside the swirl.

Sanji had everything already planned in his mind: mapping out exactly when he wanted you and the swordsman to fuck in front of him. You dropped your notebook, your eyebrows higher than they ever had been with you attempting to bite back a broad grin at the prospect of such an encounter.

Heavy boots stepped onto the deck in front of you, a sound you had become accustomed to trailing behind you and Sanji as you crept into hidden places with one another. You sucked in a shaken breath, not truly anticipating what exactly was going to depart from the swordsman’s lips.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want you, ya’ know?” were the first words spoken from the green-haired knight in front of you, “I won’t force you or nothin’.” You shook the shock away from your face before looking up to the tall man in front of you.

“Good morning to you, Zoro,” you said, disregarding his words and plastering a wide smile in welcoming him to the day, “How did you sleep?” He huffed out a breath that sounded like a laugh and crouched in front of you.

“G’ Morning to you too,” his smirk rose to the corner of his lips, dancing his eyes between yours as you lazily held your grin against your lips. A warm hue of pink dusting found its way to lay against the speckled cheeks of the green-haired swordsman, him leaning lower in his crouch and placing a hand beside your head to stabilize himself in front of you.

“Can I kiss you?” His brow arched upwards as his words raised at the end of his question. You huffed out a light laugh in surprise, looking between his two hazelnut orbs as you nodded in answering the question. Zoro shook his head as he leant forwards, “No, Hime. You gotta say ‘yes’. Use your words.”

“Yes,” you breathily uttered, feeling the whisper of a caress almost crashing atop your lips.

“Good girl,” were the final words spoken before Zoro claimed your lips within his. His scratched and chapped lips danced atop yours with a brutal intensity; out of practice in an oscillation of the like for some time. He was a man starving, seeking out any affection you were willing to reciprocate with him. His brow furrowed in deep intensity as he fell to his knees in front of you, clasping his palms over your jaw as he began to deepen the kiss as if the spell of your reciprocation was to be broken away at any moment.

Another squeak of shock parted from your lips as he continued to press feverish kisses against your lips. Everything about this kiss was different than Sanji’s: your blond chef’s lips soft, slow and romantic. This swordsman was another beast entirely. His desperation at witnessing you within the thralls of passion with the chef had him more built up than he originally thought.

As he pulled away, a string of saliva connecting your lips to his danced between you as his lust-blown eyes met with yours once more.

“How long until the next port, chronicler?” he asked you, panting and breathless.

“Four hours, swordsman,” you responded in a similar likeness. The strand broke between you, Zoro moving his hand from your cheek to dance his thumb over your bottom lip to remove the small droplet departing from his lips onto your own. He chuckled, feeling your breath hitch at such a motion.

“Sorry, Hime,” he chuckled, a bashful smile warming his face with its presence, “it’s just been a while since I-... Well... It’s just been a while.” You smiled up at him, eyes warm with affection. You leant forward, pressing your forehead against his and shutting your eyes.

“Just four more hours, Zoro,” you whispered, breaking contact between you and picking up your coffee, which was now lukewarm, and taking a sip.

Unbeknownst to you, Sanji remained hidden in safety behind the door to the kitchen. Having witnessed the entire exchange, his face was completely hued with the tint of bright and vibrant red; a trickle of blood seeping from his nose down his chin, cradled by the back of his hand.

“If this is them kissing,” he whispered to himself with a broad grin dancing against his lips, “I don’t know if I’m going to make it through the whole act.”

-.-.-.-.-.

Four long and excruciating hours passed with incredible haste, especially with Zoro offering so valiantly to take the remainder of your watch shift for you to find rest in your bedroom. Your rapidly beating heart did calm down just enough for your body to relax into a dreamless slumber, waking at the gentle shake of Sanji’s hands brushing your shoulders.

“We’re here, Dove,” he whispered, pressing his lips against your forehead, “Are you ready to go, or do you want to give this expedition a miss?” You shot up in your bed, flinging the duvet from your body and swinging your legs off the edge of the bed to hook around Sanji’s hips. You pulled him against yourself, reaching up to circle your arms around his neck and wrangle him onto your bed with you beneath him.

He chuckled, allowing you to drag him down and onto yourself as you placed a series of peck-like kisses onto his shoulders and neck; seasoning the chef with speckled peppered caresses.

“Easy now, love,” Sanji chuckled, halting your kisses with the gentle brush of your hair away from your brow, “Keep that up, and you won’t get to have the swordsman.” Your face flushed at the notion, searching his eyes for any final semblance of doubt and finding only giddy anticipation and adoration in it’s place.

“Okay,” you confirmed, nodding while undoing the skilled weave of your body from around the chef’s, “Let’s go.”

It was as easy as any other time to convince them of the need to split the party: Nami, Usopp and Luffy in one party; you, Sanji and Zoro in the other. Nami was also convinced this was the best way for the split, noticing how relaxed and the ease of tension from the two usually conflicting members of the crew balancing with you as the key element propelling them.

Within the room of a tavern, booked and paid in full by Sanji using his own, personal, berry; your heart beat with anticipation as you were led by the hand of your lover with the green-haired swordsman trailing behind you as usual. What was not usual, was the way Sanji chaperoned you within the wall and practically threw Zoro at you as soon as the door closed.

If he could, he would’ve grabbed both you and Zoro by the back of the head and forced your lips to meet in a passionate entanglement; all the while shimmying down your pants, flinging off your top and watching your chest bounce their perfect breasts as soon as they were freed from their confines.

Instead, he calmly went and sat at the dining table within the room, opened his tobacco pouch and began rolling the dried leaves within the wafer-thin paper. He fished out a slim filter, placing it within the end of the fold and rolled the leaves within it, using his pierced tongue to seal the paper together, placing the filter between his lips and fished out his lighter.

Zoro and you remained stagnant in your movements, not entirely knowing where to start with this encounter but both feeling a rise of apprehensive anticipation. Sanji scoffed, flicking the flint of his lighter to ignite the flame and inhaling the nicotine-riddled smoke.

“Are you just going to stand there gawking at one another,” he uttered with his exhale, blowing the smoke away from your face, “Or do I need to tell you what to do, Marimo?” The tension rose, now anger depicted rather than sexual frustration.

“You shut your damn mouth, Shit-Cook,” Zoro growled in return, halting as you placed your hand against his forearm and pulling back his attention to you. His gaze fluttered between your eyes, dancing down to your mouth briefly before you leant upwards and pressed your lips against his. Slowly and deliberately, you guided his lips to move against your own as you reached up and began prying his jacket away from his shoulders.

He groaned against your lips, shimmying down the material to reveal his scarred chest to you. Unbreaking from the kiss, you danced your fingers over his chest, tracing the scars and scanning over his muscles as if they were written in raised braille: reading all of the emotion depicted within the pages of Zoro’s muscular torso. He placed his hands over your own, removing them from his chest to begin stripping you of your clothes, staring with your blouse; then immediately following with your bra.

Zoro wasted no time, continuing to place kiss after kiss against every piece of flesh he had access to as he removed each element of your clothing. As his lips attached themselves to your neck, he began fiddling with your belt and hoisted your pants below your hips and began to hastily rid you of them.

“Slowly,” Sanji’s voice called over, breaking you from your lustful trance as you sought out the eyes of your lover. His pupils were blown, eyes were glazed and the smallest hue of red had sprung already from his nose and dusted the floor with a few drops of blood.

Sanji was as worked up as you were; his eyes intense with a violent longing while experiencing empathetic bliss from witnessing something as simple as being undressed by another man - that man, his rival. Zoro grunted, looking up and seeking your face; witnessing your longing glance at your lover; truly feeling how it was to be sought out with such a glance. Immediately, he was mesmerized, now completely fixated on taking his time with you to watch your face contort with pleasure he could bring you.

Immediately, Zoro dropped to his knees; his torso perpendicular to your stomach and placing open-mouthed kisses against your belly and hips. Your breath hitched, your head thrown back, as he slowly dragged your pants from your thighs, over your knees, down to your ankles before prying them off completely. Your core was already throbbing with a shameful amount of glistening arousal at the thought of your lover watching you as you engaged with another - this other being the swordsman who had come to long for you from afar.

You were uncertain which aspect of this dynamic had your head spinning, knees quaking and core throbbing more: Zoro now performing these acts for the first time, Sanji watching you for the first time; or Zoro fucking you for the first time while Sanji watched. Without warning, Zoro curved his index and middle fingers of his right hand within your folds, collecting the glistening strings of arousal from within them and withdrawing them from you. He held them in front of him, his jaw dropping at the amount of arousal pouring from your body.

“I-Is she-...” Sanji’s voice stuttered, him leaning forward on the table to eagerly get a better view of the situation. Zoro chuckled, smirking up at you as you looked down at him.

“You already ready for me, Hime?” Zoro’s rumbled voice purred at you, the expression alone having more heat rise to your abdomen and release fresh waves of arousal to coat your thighs. Zoro raised again from his crouched position, hooked his arm behind your knees and hoisted you over his shoulder. Unceremoniously, he flung you against the mattress of the room; shuffling his pants below his hips and dropping them to the floor without a second warning.

He was bigger than Sanji. Of course he was bigger than Sanji. Although similar in height; Sanji was slender, gentle with a small waist and strong legs. Everything about the swordsman was hard and angry: his cock being no exception to this rule. Tufts of green hair splayed carelessly against the base of his shaft, a small happy trail leading down from his stomach to his cock: standing proudly to attention, and loyally waiting to receive its orders. You quickly looked over to see Sanji, who was hunched over the table now with his eyes eagerly fixated on yours.

Quickly training your eyes over his body, you saw a proud tent formed against the dark pants attached to the hips of your blond lover. You danced your focus between them, beckoning for Sanji to rise from the table and come over to the bed beside you both.

You reached up and danced your hands over Zoro’s hips, tracing your fingertips delicately over his throbbing cock; the shaft bobbing and twitching while his knob pulsed and shone with anticipation. The smallest bead of precum began leaking from the slit, both you and Zoro as equally pent up at the aspect of joining your bodies together. You thought back to the first time he had caught you and Sanji, your body caged beneath your blond chef as he thrust and ground his hips into yours.

Guiding the swordsman to kneel on the bed, you crawled backwards; your hair splaying out against the pillows beneath you as you continued to chaperone his large body over your own. Sanji continued to hold firm his eyes on your body, watching every small hitch of breath and elevation of hair follicle in response to a rumbled growl from the man above you. He had never seen something so beautiful in his life; no longer wondering why the swordsman was infatuated with watching you receive pleasure from a lover.

Sanji knelt beside the bed, watching as you grasped the shaft of the swordsman above you and slowly raked his tip between your folds, guiding your slickening arousal up and danced the tip over your swollen clit. Both Zoro and your breath hitched as you pumped your hand over his cock, keeping the pressure briefly against your clit as you both closed your eyes and furrowed your brows at the feeling.

You pulled back the shaft to expose more of his throbbing tip before raking it over your quivering hole and guiding it slowly within your entrance. The three of your voices moaned in unison, Zoro’s brows furrowing as he focussed on experiencing the feeling he had been witnessing you and Sanji involve yourself with over the weeks prior.

“Z-Zoro, you’re really big,” you whimpered, your walls taking a small moment to stretch to accommodate for his girth. Your brows furrowed as your jaw fell slack, wincing as you ushered more of him into you - his hips slowly descending onto your own from his position above you. Sanji remained beside you, keeping his eyes hyper focussed on yours as his cock twitched and grazed the material of his briefs beneath his pants.

“You can take it, Dove,” Sanji’s hushed whisper had your eyes snap to meet with his, blown with lust and gripping the sheets within his firm grasp. Zoro groaned as he felt your walls begin to relax around him, slowly impaling you with his entire length. You shuddered as the patch of green met against your clit, his cock twitching within your walls and throbbing with anticipation as you continued to adjust to his size.

You turned your face once more to meet with Zoro’s gazing up through half-hooded eyes and mewling as he began to slowly drag his cock outside of your walls, only to slide it agonizingly slow back within them again. He was huffing out puffs of staggered breaths, relishing in feeling fully sheathed within you.

“Oh F-Fuck,” Zoro’s voice stuttered as he dropped his face into your neck, “I didn’t know it’d-... hgnnh-... feel this good.” You whimpered against him, desperately grinding your hips up into him. His hand staggered down to claim your thighs beneath him, hooking your knees over his hips and beginning to rock a steady rhythm against your core.

You cried out as Zoro’s cock immediately began bullying the sensitive underside of your clit, hitting the spot within you that immediately had your walls clenching around his cock and crying his name in bliss.

“Zoro-... h-ah-...” you whimpered, the dance of your winding and rapidly approaching orgasm beginning to spiral and coil within the pit of your belly, “-How are you doing that-?” you choked between cries of bliss. Zoro continued to slap his hips steadily against your own, chasing his own pleasure while attempting to halt his hastened pace. He didn’t want to cum without you, but the feeling was so overwhelming - especially being so long without an encounter of the like.

“You feel-... ngmnf-... you feel so fucking good,” Zoro complimented you before his eyes began rolling as he focussed hard on not spilling his seed within you. You reached up, claiming fistfulls of his mossy hair between your fingers and wrapping your arms around his shoulders to hold him as close as you could. You felt the cool drag of his earrings against your cheek as he nuzzled his face further into your neck.

You began to feel the rapid, staggered motion of his hips; feeling the way his hips met your own with a rapid and bruising pace. Your walls immediately began their steady thump, your toes curling as your peak began to blind you with its intensity. The warm tingle of your soul dancing beneath your skin began to shoot sparks down your body, igniting the final rise of your orgasm before you gave out your final warning.

“Zoro-... I-... fuck-... I’m cumming,” you barely had time to verbalize your vocal cry before your walls sucked him inwards, holding his cock within your walls. Zoro immediately shot his hot load within you, reveling in the feeling of your staggered and unbridled movements as your back arched off the bed beneath him.

“Fuck me-... I-I’m cumming-... oh f-fuck-... I’m cumming in you,” he growled, chasing the final waves of his orgasm as he painted his load deep within your walls. He cried your name, praying before you and worshiping the afterwaves of your walls twitching around him as you both came down from your highs.

“Merde-... o-oh, oh sh-shit,” you heard a voice call beside you, watching as you both chased your highs and rode the waves of your mutual orgasms.

You smoothed your hands over Zoro’s hair, rubbing his shoulders and pressed a chaste kiss against his temple. He chuckled against your neck, pressing his lips against your skin - feeling a large and wolf-like grin rise against his cheeks as he did so.

You angled your head over, seeking out your cigarette smoking chef; eyes meeting with the most feral sight you had ever seen in your life.

Sanji was a mess. His nose trailing red from the amount of blood rising to swell his head, his knuckles gripping the sheets so hard the material stretched and frayed beneath his fingernails. His eyes held a foreign shock to them, his lips parted as his jaw fell slack. You quickly pushed Zoro’s body off of you, unsheathing him from your core so fast he almost cried out in sorrow from the relinquishment of such warmth surrounding his rapidly reducing cock.

“Sanji, honey are you okay?” You asked, your eyes flashing with concern as you grasped his cheeks within your palms, “Sweetheart, talk to me. Are you okay-?”

“-I just came,” Sanji managed to stutter out with an amazing rapidity. Shock knit over your face, looking to where his hands had remained firmly grasping the sheets. You cocked your head to the side, searching behind his eyes for further explanation.

“You just-,” you began, only to have Zoro interrupt your words with a loud and unrestrained chuckle.

“I know, right?” he managed to say once he stifled his laughter, looking over to the chef’s disheveled appearance, “Now you get why I like watching.”

#one piece #opla #x reader #opla fic #one piece live action #sanji #zoro #roronoa zoro #zoro roronoa x reader #black leg sanji #black leg sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji #vinsmoke sanji x reader #smut #sanji smut #zoro smut

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rosesaints · 11 months

Text

help wanted ! chapter five.

pairing: miguel o’hara / f!reader

summary: after your ex

rating: 18+ explicit (minors, do not interact)

warnings: unprotected sex, creampie, brief mentions of violence towards the end

series masterlist / previous chapter / next chapter

You’ve pictured this scene unfolding before you a thousand times since you left that apartment with him.

There were a few scenarios in your head where you stood your ground, played the role of the confident and amazing, ridiculously successful ex-fiancee. They’re the ones you most preferred; walking past him on a busy street with a fully-fledged career, a new blowout, looking better than you ever had before. Saying I’m so much better now that I’m without you.

Of course, there were other scenarios where you caused chaos. Flipping over tables, screaming all your frustrations out on him, making him hurt the way he made you hurt. Relishing in the confusion and hurt and stress that your imaginary self would’ve caused. Not as practical, and a lot more likely to get you on a quick trip to the police station, but it was nice to wonder nonetheless.

Reality is much more somber.

All eyes were on you and at that moment, you didn’t know what the right course of action was. With all of your different scenarios and imaginary confrontations, you hadn’t pictured it coming to fruition so soon. You knew you were grasping for straws, fiddling with time, but you had gotten lost in how weightless you had felt during the past month.

You thought of two pairs of brown eyes across the dining table, crinkling around the edges, laughing as you tried to swallow down milk after their little ghost pepper surprise. You thought of green grass and hot, sunny days and the smiles that would shine down above and below you as you hoisted Gabi into your arms.

They were a factor you didn’t account for—or even expected, in your little scenarios. But somehow, you thought, you would’ve much rather been standing there instead of whatever this was, with your fiancé looking at you expectantly and your parents lost in confusion.

Instead of letting the silence hang further in the room, your fiancé stabs at the moment. “It’s good to see you.”

You resisted the urge to laugh. “ It’s good to see me? That’s what you’re opening with?”

“Well—”

“If you’re here for the ring, it’s gone,” Surprisingly, you remained calm, but there was something bubbling to the surface every second he stood in your living room, taking up space. “I don’t have anything that you would want.”

“I’m… I’m not here for the ring,” He looked sheepish, looking down at your floor shamelessly and you wondered how the hell you were able to stay with him for so long. Here he was, playing the part of the doting and devoted boyfriend gone down a wrong path, here to make amends, but for the first time, you weren’t buying it. He murmurs a silly, stupid pet name he had called you in college. “Come home. I miss you, my parents miss you, and it’s not the same without you.”

For the first time, you looked at your parents. Something rolls around in your chest and you had to keep your composure. As the words left your lips, you couldn’t help the way your voice trembled, however. “Can you give us a minute?”

Your mother looked like she wanted to refuse, to stay and say some choice words about him but you wanted to deal with this on your own. You looked at your dad and he nods, ushering her out.

Once they left, you didn’t bother hiding the flux of emotions that rose up your throat.

“You have no right,” The volume in your voice surprised you, but you didn’t stop. “No right to come back here, and—and asking me to come home. You’re insane. After what you did?”

The more you remembered, the more the red-hot anger threatened to take over. This guy took away your apartment, your career, your dignity, and now he was trying to take away the one singular moment of peace you had had since you graduated. Maybe even since the moment you met him.

“Why are you really here?” You couldn’t help but ask. It was selfish, but you wanted to hear it, to hear the final nail in the coffin and set him loose.

“I know that it’s really sudden and out of the blue, but I just couldn’t stop thinking about you, and I broke up with her, she’s gone,” He paused, pondering then, taking his glasses off and rubbing an exasperated hand through his hair. “She couldn’t keep up with her part of the lease, and—” “You’re kidding. You’re fucking kidding,” Unbelievable. Of course, the new, shinier model, you remembered her—-barely out of her freshman year of college—-couldn’t keep up with her side of the rent. “Get the fuck out of my house.”

“Come on.”

“Don’t ever bother coming around here again,” Without any ceremony, you gestured at the door. “I don’t want to see you ever again. I mean it.”

It felt like forever until he finally left the view of your living room window, rolling out of your street and disappearing into oblivion. There’s a weight that you didn’t even know rested heavily on your shoulders, and you knew that you should’ve felt relieved, or felt proud for handling that the way you did but something lingered, and you suddenly felt so out of place within your house.

At that point, your parents had joined you at your little stoop by the window. Hushed and apologetic explanations fell haphazardly over your deaf ears, “he insisted on talking to you, we tried to get him to leave but you got home before—”

You needed to leave. The overwhelming desire to leave and go somewhere, anywhere, took over and you were picking up your shoes and your bag and your car keys and rushing out of the door before you could fully process what happened, what exactly took over you in that moment.

Outside, you thought, that it should have been raining. It should have been pouring cats and dogs, thunder and lightning all around you, but instead, there was a sky full of stars. The rain would’ve been fitting, it would’ve paired well with whatever was brewing inside you, but all you were met with was an incomparable silence, a bright night sky, and the sleepy lull of your hometown.

You wanted to get out of it.

You had never, ever, wanted to force yourself out of this homey, suburban image. So you hopped into the car. It’s a scene straight out of a rom-com (minus the rain), and you would’ve resented the comparison, but then you were sobbing and screaming along to some cheesy breakup mix, something from thirty years ago and driving around without anywhere to go.

There were a few stops along your little impromptu road trip, a gas station, a Target (walking around aimlessly was admittedly, very therapeutic despite the stares you got for going around fifteen minutes before they closed), and your old high school. It all felt wrong.

None of it felt as right as when you reached for your phone, typed in Miguel O’Hara, and pressed call.

It only rang once, twice before he picked up. “Hey. What’s going on?”

“H–Hey. I’m just,” You choked out a sob, despite trying so, so hard to keep it together. “I just wanted to… to check in on Gabi. See if she got to bed without any—any issues. She’s been having some trouble going to sleep, so, so I just wanted to… to make sure.”

You heard a pause from the other line, some shuffling, and then his voice became clearer. He said your name, soft and gentle and it made your shoulders relax. “Is everything okay?”

The question should’ve been simple, and on any other day, you wished that you could’ve responded like you usually did, all lazy smiles and easy confidence while the sunlight bore down on you on those mornings when you made him stay in bed a little bit longer. You realized then, that you wanted to come home. “No. No, I don’t think’s everything okay.”

“Hey,” Miguel’s voice reverberated throughout your dark car. “Lo que sea que esté mal, podemos hablarlo. Tú y yo.” Whatever's wrong, we can talk about it. You and me.

“Can I come over?” An exhausted laugh escaped you then. “It’s a long story.”

“Of course,” There was no doubt or hesitation. Just Miguel. “Do you want me to come get you from your house? It’s pretty late.”

Suddenly, you were hit with the realization that you were probably a good fifteen or twenty miles away. “I’m actually—um. I hopped into my car and I’m fine, don’t worry, but I can be there soon. Just give me some time.”

You could hear him rustle, abrupt static coming through your speaker as you heard him stand up. Worried. “Are you sure? Where are you?”

“Yeah. I promise. I’m just a few minutes away, I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“Okay,” Even through the phone, you could picture him, running a hand through his hair. “Could you send me your location, just in case? I just want to make sure you get back safely.”

With some more reassurance on your part to Miguel, you sent over your location and said goodbye with the promise to see him again soon. “I’ll see you in a few minutes. Swear.” When your hands touched the sides of your steering wheel, is when you finally let yourself fall apart, resolved to let it all out and get it out of the way before you saw him.

It must have been close to midnight when you finally drove into your street, quietly and carefully pulling into your driveway before making the trip just a couple steps over to the O’Hara house.

Before your hand could even reach the door to knock, it was opening in a flurry, and you were suddenly face-to-face with a very concerned Miguel. There were lines on his face you’d never noticed before and a curl in his eyebrows that you wanted to crease away.

This time, it was different. There was no rushed and hasty pretense to pull you in by your waist, peppering you with kisses, and pulling you into his bed. Instead, he’s wrapping you up in a hug you didn’t know you sorely needed, watching the rise and fall of his chest as he visibly relaxed in your arms.

You were aware that you probably looked crazy, besides yourself and having broken down multiple times in the few hours you had been away from them. “I’m sorry,” You croaked out weakly, but Miguel was quick to shut down any of that.

“Don’t be,” He murmured into your hair, and it was so easy. So easy to lose yourself in the vibrato and timbre of his voice, to forget what just transpired in your own house. “Come in. It’s cold.”

Your shoes went where they usually rested, next to his and Gabi's near the doorway.

The house was quiet, and you were glad for the silence, listening around you to check that Gabi was asleep. You didn’t want her to see you at your lowest point, not after the nerve-filled day that she had already had. She was a sensitive kid, and way too smart for her own good, and you didn’t think you could’ve kept it together with her and Miguel in the same room.

It was easy to sink down onto the couch, even easier to lay your legs over his and look up at the ceiling in defeat. The moment felt unusually intimate, and a hopeful, most likely foolish part of you internally remarked that coming home to this wouldn’t be so bad, wouldn’t have minded doing this for years, but you brushed that thought aside, just content to sit there for a while.

Then you were breathing out a deep sigh that had been begging to be released the whole night since you left your house in a haze, and then the words were tumbling out, clumsy and unprepared off your lips as you began. “My ex-fiancé came by today.”

You didn’t dare to look over at him, afraid and apprehensive of what you would see, so you kept going.

“He came by and he asked me to… to come home,” A pause. “And I just couldn’t do it.”

“When we ended things, I thought, oh my god. My life is over. Just hours after graduation and I was out of a fiancé, a home, a career,” You let out a hoarse, dry laugh. “He got me blacklisted from the Daily Bugle. He took everything from me and then it was just like, I had to get everything figured out right away, to just rebound and resurface and come up so quickly.”

“I was able to forget about it and to push it down, and it finally felt like I could breathe again, and then he came by and really just,” You mimicked an explosion with your hands, then you dropped them by your sides in loss. You felt embarrassed with your rambling, but when you finally mustered up the courage to look over at him, eyes drifting to his with uncertainty, all you saw was anger. A seething anger that loomed dangerously close to engulfing him. “I felt really lost.”

Your words hung in the air, and Miguel deliberated on them, meticulously weighing his replies. Finally, he spoke, his words coming out ragged and barely contained. “Did he leave?”

“Eventually. Not without any fuss, but he’s gone.”

“Good,” Miguel’s eyes searched yours for any hurt, softening when he saw none, offering a gentle smile that spoke volumes of relief and reassurance, but there was an edge to the next thing he said. “We’ll keep it that way.”

A question had been lingering at the forefront of your mind, patiently waiting for the opportune moment to be asked. So you seized it. “How did you juggle it all? How did you just… know your place in life and get it all figured out?”

“Well, for starters, a lot of self-reflection and time,” He shook his head, almost like he was in disbelief. “It wasn’t too long ago, and I was scared shitless after graduation and I didn’t know what to do.” Despite yourself, you had a hard time believing him. Miguel was one of those people who just seemed like they were born to be a parent, with every careful and overwhelmingly supportive touch of his actions with Gabi. It was something that you had admired, a sense of purpose, and just true, undeniable belonging. “ Nuh uh. The Miguel O’Hara, genius geneticist, incredible father, one hell of a little league coach, didn’t know what to do?”

“Shut up,” He grinned at you, with no malice seeping off his words. The next thing he said was more gentle, more genuine. “But yeah, it… it took me a while. I was so angry for a long time. I didn’t really give too much of a damn about anything. When I graduated, I thought that there was only one path for me, and I was just this overly ambitious, uncaring jerk with nothing else going for him than science.”

“It was all I had. Until I had Gabi.”

You eyed the photos along the wall, of Gabi and Miguel in various states of suspended happiness and you realized, in every single photo that you had seen without her, there was something missing. Miguel often looked mismatched and lost, until she came along.

“Alchemax wanted me to imprint genetic codes into human physiology. It was experimental, groundbreaking technology and we were on the very precipice of it,” Miguel looked down at his hands, searching for something that was long gone.“I could’ve been famous, fuck , maybe even won a Nobel Prize. But then I thought of Gabi and it just couldn’t compare. I wouldn’t trade a single thing to come home to this every night.”

The next thing he said made your heart leap out of your chest.

“Your plans will get derailed. People will come and go through your life, but sometimes, sometimes you just have to let things happen. Let people crash and burn your plans. Who gives a shit about what’s meant to be anyway?”

“Just do what you want.”

It was quiet while you digested the impact of his words, and without even thinking, your hands reached across the couch to interlock with his. From the corners of your eyes, you could see the faint outline of his shoulders coming undone, his hands confidently and easily clasping yours with just as much clarity. You let them remain there, and it felt right.

“I guess now, I should add an amazing motivational speaker to the list—”

Your name falls off his lips in teasing disbelief. “That’s what you take from my whole spiel?”

“Hmm. That wasn’t all I took from it.”

The next time he said your name was like a revelation, like gospel. His eyes searched yours, and somehow you knew.

And then you closed the gap between the two of you, hands reaching for him like absolution to a sinner. He’s gasping your name once more , hot breath fanning your face and then he was grasping the skin of your thighs and pulling you on top of him, groaning as you slotted in perfectly on his lap.

You writhed on top of him, moaning in barely concealed satisfaction as he deepened the kiss, cupping your face like he couldn’t bear to let go of you. When you pulled back, his eyes are completely dark with desire, pupils dilated and lashes falling heavily onto his high cheekbones, regarding you with so much admiration and need.

Those eyes.

His hands were everywhere then, on your thighs, your waist, your neck, your chest. You could feel him beginning to roam the outskirts of your shirt, teasing and playing with the hem. A ragged sigh of relief forced itself from somewhere inside you when he finally bunched up the fabric and touched your skin, hands reaching around your back to undo the clasp and then your lips were returning clumsily to his, biting and suckling on his bottom lip and relishing in the almost pained, but deeply attractive growl that left him.

You kept your eyes locked intently on his while you helped him with removing your top, fingers going over his, watching as his gaze shifted from your eyes to somewhere lower. “Ni siquiera sabes lo que me haces, dulce niña.”

You wanted him, all of him , couldn’t stand to go even a second without it, and then you were pulling his shirt up in turn, breath catching in your throat when you felt how warm he was, enjoying the sculpted terrain of his chest and abdomen as his hands went to yours once again, pressing you closer to him.

“Do you want this? I need to hear you say it, cariño , want you to tell me how much you want it.”

You were nodding, half-delirious and it wasn’t even a question, without any doubts and you told him exactly how you wanted him.“Yes—yes, please, please, I just want you . Need you inside.”

There was no grace or patience in the way you both hastily peeled the rest of each other’s clothes off, and then there was the slow drag of his cock against your folds, teasing you, letting the anticipation hang further in the air just to torture you a little bit more—until you were practically begging for it.

“Shit, baby,” Miguel groaned lowly into your ear when his attempts to enter you were hindered by the wet squelch of your pussy as he tried to bottom out. “You gotta relax for me a bit, okay? Don’t know how much longer I can hold out with you like this for me.”

All you could do was nod mindlessly, trying your hardest to stifle the urge to just sink down, and with a gasp, you jerked forward, eyes widening in pure, unadulterated pleasure as you took all of him inside. Miguel gasped, reaching for your hips.

This was so different from all of your previous rendezvous with him. You weren’t complaining, not with the view below you of Miguel falling apart inside you.

“Look at me,” In this light, Miguel looked downright heavenly, eyes drifting between you and where you were connected with him, murmuring his agreement. Anything, anything you want. You sat in delicious realization as you had the reins. “Don’t look away.”

It was unspoken and evident in the warmth and desire he followed your words closely, never once breaking eye contact. I’m all yours.

You began rolling your hips in earnest, starting off slow and cautiously with up-and-down movements, your hands gripping his shoulders for stability as you teased him, almost mocked him similarly to the way he’d edge you in past times, making you feel every depth of him and forcing you to stay stuck in his pace.

Suffice to say, while you had learned the tolerance and patience of playing this long game with him, biding your time, Miguel was very close to falling apart.

There was no telling how long your sickly sweet torture of him lasted, gushing and clenching around him to the point that he had to lay his head back on the head of the sofa, breathing heavily and closing his eyes at the feeling of you around him.

You could’ve done this all day, watching intently as the vein connecting his shoulder and neck throbbed with need, but then he was slurring endless praise for you to keep going, to use him just how you wanted him. You almost felt bad, until you began rocking faster so suddenly that it must’ve given him whiplash, effectively ending the prolonged

“ Dios. Don’t stop, please, gatita—”

His hand snaked in between your legs, pressing hard against the hood of your clit and then you were coming around him, whiteness bursting across your vision as you moaned and writhed on top of him, riding out the throes of your pleasure.

You slumped, but you remained on top of him there, far, far from over.

“Miguel, ‘m tired, help me,” The next words that left your lips were foreign, but it was also the clearest inclination that you had ever felt the whole night. “Want to feel you cum inside.”

Miguel froze below you as if assessing the weight of your words. “Are you sure?”

“Please. I want to feel it.”

How could he have possibly said no to that?

The next course of events that transpired was enough to make your brain short-circuit, as the hands on your hips fell to your ass, more demanding, reclaiming the control that was rightfully his. Another pause, The way he kissed you was so gentle, you were almost lulled into a false sense of security—but then he was slamming into you with the force of his whole body, his hips touching up and hitting something within you that made you see stars.

Oh my god. Oh my god, oh my god—-fuck.

“You think,” He growled out through gritted teeth, moving from your lips to the side of your neck and sinking in with teeth that felt so much sharper. “You can just get away with saying something like that? Like it wouldn’t do something to me?”

He tutted, shaking his head and meeting your eyes with the same confidence and danger that he had shown you from across the bar during that first night. “No, no. That just won’t—God, fuck,” Miguel’s head was thrown back when you moaned around him, unable to respond with coherent words. “That just won’t do.”

“I’m going to make you feel me for days .”

You whimpered, keeling under his touch as you let him fulfill his promise, merely going along for the ride and realizing, no, you were never fully in control in the first place.

His hips began to stutter as he plowed his hips against yours a few more times, each thrust growing progressively sloppy and uncontrolled, moaning out your name and other things you couldn’t possibly comprehend in your dazed state. “You rode me so good, yeah? Going to show you just how grateful I am.”

When you felt the warmth spreading around you, all-consuming and so, so right, you thanked whatever lied in the heavens above you for leading you to him.

You laid in his arms, content and sated and giddy with happiness as he rode out the rest of his orgasm, his head nestled into the crook of your shoulder.

The room felt hot and heavy. The two of you were fucked out, your breaths intermingling with his own as you rested your forehead on top of his, smiling in a tired way that he was elated to reflect. “Let’s go to bed.”

Miguel found it hard to leave.

He insisted on tucking you into bed, despite your tired insistence that you could stay awake. His hands roamed the soft fabric of his shirt that you were now wearing. Sleep came to you easily, resting with a content smile as you faced him with only mere inches separating the two of you on his vast, California King bed, the day’s troubles slowly wearing off your form in lines as you rested into a deep slumber.

It was two in the morning, and most places were already shut down, all except for one. And he knew he had to do something.

See, he lied to you earlier. His anger never quite, fully went away, just lingered beneath the surface. Waiting.

And it surged at the mention of what your ex-fiancé had done. It rippled when he heard your voice, unsure and lost, through the speaker of his phone, threatened to boil over when he listened to the full extent of just how he ruined your prospects and learned the full reason for why you were back home.

He tried his best to hide the way his fists clenched at his side, figured that maybe it was best to let bygones be bygones and let you handle it, but then he saw the way you had curled into yourself on his couch, on the verge of breaking.

Now, that just wouldn’t do.

Sometimes, Miguel made concessions for his actions. There were times when he let his anger fester and seep into his consciousness in rare, opportune moments and he knew that when it did, there was no stopping what he was about to do.

He convinced himself that he had pushed down that part of himself a long time ago, abandoned along with his ambitions at the first floor of Alchemax, but it drove him to the same bar you met him anyway, watching from across the street as your ex-fiancé pounded back shots with two women draped across his shoulders.

The recognition rang true in his mind as he reminisced on some of your mother’s Facebook posts about the two of you. It was him, no doubt about it.

Miguel looked at himself in the mirror then and allowed himself the time to reconsider, to drive back to his house where you and Gabi remained asleep, blissfully unaware of what he was about to do.

He saw your ex-fiancé laugh, victorious and unassuming, and decided in that split second that there was no going back. Not for you.

It was too easy to lure the guy into an alleyway with the false pretense of fucking drugs —-and on a regular occasion, he would’ve laughed about how cliche it all was, how stupid this guy was for following him into danger—-but he had a greater goal to accomplish.

Miguel didn’t feel any remorse as he watched his target crumple to the ground, wheezing and shielding his hands up to him, and that’s when Miguel laughed as if that would have possibly done anything to stop what he was about to do.

“I’m sorry—I’m sorry, I don’t know who… who you think I am but I’m from out of town, you’ve got the wrong guy—”

“Oh, I think I’ve got just the right one,” His voice grew lower, his mocking laugh dying off the edge of his tongue as he tilted his head at the simpering mess beneath him. “I’m not the one you should be apologizing to.”

His desperate attempts and pathetic pleas to get him to stop fell on deaf ears as Miguel continued, cool and composed, barely breaking a sweat even as he delivered more blows upon him.

“Go home. Fix yourself up. Get her that internship back, along with anything else you could’ve possibly lost her, or I swear,” He forced your ex-fiancé to look up at him then, and lets his words hang menacingly in the air. Doesn’t feel anything as he sputters out an agreement through raspy breaths. “You’ll have a lot worse coming for you.”

Miguel stopped at his office on the way home, stripping off the remnants of his actions and washing off the blood that had accumulated on his hands and beneath his fingernails. He made sure to be meticulous, fixing the collar of his shirt and rolling up his sleeves as he pulled out of the parking lot and put in directions to a 24-hour diner he knew that you and Gabi adored.

He ordered a dozen doughnuts and a breakfast pizza for all of you to share in the morning, leaving a hefty tip as he pushed out of the drive-through and headed home.

The house was still as he left it, carefully peeling off his shoes and placing them next to yours as he made his way to the kitchen, setting down your breakfast for the next day and fixing up two quick glasses of water for himself and for you before he made his way upstairs.

When he pushed the door open, his breath caught in his throat.

It seemed, that in the time he was gone, Gabi must’ve had a nightmare. There were some nights where, despite her best attempts to act grown-up and mature, she would still make her way to his room and would huddle close to him in the dark.

Gabi had migrated to his bed in search of him but instead found you. Your arms lazily draped over her, fingers still caught combing through her hair as one of Gabi’s bedtime books lied abandoned next to the two of you, fast asleep and snoring softly as they waited for him to come back.

In that instant, Miguel knew that he was in deep, deep trouble. He was screwed, there was no other way about it. It was you. It had been you, all along, all this time.

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #across the spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #oscar isaac #mdni #miguel o'hara smut

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hippolotamus · 15 days

Text

thought i planned for everything (just didn’t count on you) | 1.6k | E (BuckTommy)

Earlier today I promised my wife @bidisasterevankinard an incentive for studying in exchange for making her think about too many WIP ideas. Since husband @diazsdimples is also going through it with schooling, this is for both of you 😘 ps: idk anything about what certs and licenses and stuff Tommy would need. Just roll with it and be nice, yeah? Also, this is unbeta’d so if you see any mistakes, no you don’t.

Tommy scrubs at his forehead, blowing out a frustrated breath. He’s looked at the material in front of him for months now, determined to ace his recertifications. And it had been going well. Really well, in fact. He had a study schedule mapped out, accounting for his shifts and time with friends. He even left a small margin for the unexpected. There was just one factor he hadn’t accounted for. Evan.

The past few years of dating haven’t exactly gone anywhere serious. Some casual dates, one that he thought could go the distance but only broke his heart. So the expectation of having that feeling again? Of having someone thoughtful and caring, who gives him butterflies and makes him want things? Pretty much zero.

But then a hurricane happened. Actual and metaphorical. It tore through his life, upending the idea that love – or anything close to it – just wasn’t in the cards for him. And when everything settled, there was Evan. Evan, who asks how his shift was, tells him when he gets back from a call, and turns a pretty shade of pink as he blushes and says ‘I missed you’.

Tommy doesn’t regret any of it, but he does wish the universe’s cosmic timing could’ve held off just a little longer. At least until the state of California tells him what he already knows and says he’s fit to pilot an aircraft.

A knock on the door gets his attention, but he seriously contemplates ignoring it. He didn’t order anything and he doesn’t have plans. Unfortunately, the first responder in him can’t help wondering if one of his elderly neighbors needs something.

Fine. He sets down the pen he’s been chewing on and reminds himself it’s been too long since he stood up and walked around anyway.

“Evan?” Tommy asks, surprised to see him standing there. He instinctively looks him up and down for obvious injuries or signs of distress, but finds nothing. Only his gorgeous boyfriend, smiling coyly. “I didn’t forget about a date, did I?”

“No, uh, nothing like that. Because you are supposed to be studying.” Evan raises one eyebrow like Tommy is in the wrong for answering his own door after somehow manifesting Evan’s presence.

“And yet here you are.”

“Here I am,” Evan says shyly. “I know I’ve been taking a lot of your time lately and wanted to help.”

For the first time, Tommy notices Evan’s got his hands behind his back and wonders what his definition of ‘help’ is. He’s dressed down, soft and adorable in a hoodie and joggers, so it’s unlikely to be a booty call. Though not completely out of the question. And not that Tommy would complain either.

“Did you bring flashcards or something?”

“As a matter of fact…” Evan steps over the threshold, past Tommy, like he owns the place. While shy, demure Evan is a favorite, confident Evan is by no means a turn off. Especially as he whirls around and proudly holds up a set of blue, yellow and pink index cards. “I did.”

“Evan-”

“A few nights, when I couldn’t sleep, I might have taken some notes of my own. And, like I said, thought I could make myself useful for my hot, pilot boyfriend.” He rocks up on his tiptoes, capturing Tommy’s lips for a chaste kiss before he meanders to the kitchen.

Tommy pushes the door closed, following Evan where he lays the cards down on the table, opposite the books and manuals Tommy has scattered. Evan walks to the cabinets and helps himself to a glass, filling it with water before returning. Next he makes himself comfortable in a chair, sitting slightly back with his legs spread apart.

“So, can I help?”

There’s a glimmer of mischief in the way Evan looks at him now that has his heart racing. Like helping is the last thing Evan plans to do.

Tommy gathers himself enough to sit down in his own seat and flashes Evan a confident smirk.

“Do your worst, kid.”

“I’ll start with an easy one. What is the atmospheric gas composition?”

“Twenty-one percent oxygen, seventy-eight percent nitrogen, one percent other,” Tommy rattles off.

“Well done.” Evan flicks the card down then casually leans over to untie one shoe and slip it off.

“What are you-”

Evan clicks his tongue, tutting in fake admonishment. “Can’t tell you all my secrets, baby. Next question. Each one hundred meter climb in elevation causes a temperature drop of what?”

“One degree Celsius.”

Evan simply grins and removes his other shoe, leaving him in socked feet. Tommy would be lying if he said his dick wasn’t taking interest now that he’s caught on to Evan’s game. It is thoroughly unhelpful.

“PAIP should be implemented how many minutes after an aircraft fails to give its position report or is overdue for arrival?”

“Fifteen. Got anything harder for me?”

Evan’s tongue darts out, licking along his lower lip. “Oh, you bet I do.”

Tommy takes a deep breath, trying to maintain his composure and think about… anything except bending Evan over the table. If only it was that simple.

They repeat the process, volleying questions and answers back and forth until Evan’s stripped down to his boxers, his cock obviously hard and leaking beneath the tented fabric. It’s distracting as hell and Tommy doesn’t know how he’s supposed to concentrate.

“Come on, old man,” Evan teases, palming himself lazily. “Lives are on the line here. You need to be able to think under tense conditions.”

“You’re such a brat.” Tommy’s jeans press uncomfortably on his own straining erection and he doesn’t bother to stop himself from mirroring Evan’s movements.

“Yeah, but I’m your brat.” Evan applies more pressure, letting out an obscene moan as he strokes himself. “Or I could be – ahh – if you get this – mmph – question right.”

“Fuck, Evan.” Tommy undoes his belt and zipper, creating the tiniest bit of relief.

“That’s the idea. Even – oh, fuck – wore the new plug I told you about.”

Christ, Evan’s gonna kill him before they get the chance to see this all play out. And that’s unacceptable.

“Don’t stop,” Tommy orders, stalking off to grab the lube stashed in the couch cushions. When he returns, Evan is still stroking himself exactly like he was instructed. “Good boy, Evan. Doing what I told you.”

Tommy grips his chin and crashes their mouths together in a filthy kiss, delighted as Evan makes the most beautiful whine.

“But, you – ah – didn’t answer me,” Evan protests when they separate.

“Myoglobin.” He leans close to Evan’s ear, nipping at the lobe. “Lesson’s over, kid. Face down over the table. Naked. Now.”

Evan nearly trips over himself, leaping up from his chair and shoving his boxers down. He drapes himself over the piles of papers and index cards, wiggling his ass like he’ll die if he has to go one more second without being fucked.

“Gotta say, I like your methods,” Tommy murmurs, starting to work the plug in and out, tracing his other hand along Evan’s bare skin. “But now I think it’s time for your reward. Don’t you, sweetheart?”

“Yeah, yes. Please.”

“So desperate, my Evan,” Tommy coos. “Thought you would be in control, getting me all worked up. And here you are, laid out so gorgeously for me, just begging for it.”

Tommy pulls the plug out completely, discarding it to the floor. Evan keens and clenches around nothing, just waiting to be full again.

“Don’t worry, baby. I got you.” Tommy shoves his jeans and boxers down to his thighs. He slicks himself up with the lube and smears a generous amount on his fingers, fucking them in and out of Evan’s hole. Just enough to ease the way.

“Tommy,” Evan pants, practically crying when he pulls out.

He lines himself up, gripping Evan’s hips and pushing in without additional warning. He doesn’t pause for adjustments before he sets a relentless pace. It’s unlikely either of them are going to last, but he’s not going for longevity here.

Evan curls his hands around the edges of the table, leveraging it to fuck himself back against Tommy’s cock. It’s stunning and breathtaking, the rhythm they’re creating. A symphony of moans, squelches and skin against skin.

Soon the familiar heat pools in his belly, bringing him closer to the edge.

“Ohfuuuuck,” Evan moans, purposely tightening around him.

Tommy digs his fingertips into Evan’s sides, the world around him being reduced to static and white noise as he comes, filling Evan up. He thinks he might shout Evan’s name, but he’s not really sure, nor does he really care as he slumps forward, draping himself across Evan’s glistening skin.

“Gimmeasec,” he mumbles. “I’ll take careayou.”

“No need,” Evan murmurs back. “All good.”

Tommy presses a lazy kiss to Evan’s spine, enjoying the resulting small shudder. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

He kisses another ridge, and another, before answering. “For taking notes. For caring. Wanting to help out. For being you.”

“It wasn’t too much?” Evan whispers, hesitantly.

“Never,” Tommy assures him, dropping gentle kisses over his neck and shoulders, mindful of the mess forming between them as he maneuvers to properly reach. “Never too much, baby.”

He bites back words that are too early to say, even if he definitely feels them. Has felt them building in his chest, creating a near endless chant. He wonders how long he’ll be able to smother them before they burst forth. Hopefully long enough. Enough for Evan to feel them, too. For Evan to want to stay.

“Clean up and nap?” Tommy asks instead.

“Sounds good. Earned it.”

Tommy huffs an amused sound against Evan’s skin before pressing one last kiss there. God, I hope so, kid.

#bucktommy #bucktommy fic #hippo writes #tevan #tevan fic #what can i say #i love my spice #di tag 💙💍#james tag 💍#fic: thought i planned for everything

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writtnbyhan · 7 months

Text

Baking with Felix.

PAIRING: lee felix x female!reader

TAGS: fluff, established relationship.

WORD COUNT: 559

warnings: none! Let me know if I missed a warning.

author's note: I was making a strawberry cake and even though I'm usually good at baking, idk what went wrong -- at least it inspired this! I just kept thinking about cooking for Felix and with Felix and I'm... soft. This is just self-indulgent fluff, and it's really short because it's really rushed but I'm in my feelings and I needed to share this thought.

You thought it’d be a nice surprise. Felix was always baking for everyone, ready to greet people with homemade cupcakes, or brownies, or cookies, or pretty much anything. His love language was acts of service, and it showed in the way he always tried to have something delicious ready for his loved ones to eat. So, you figured he deserved to feel this type of love too, and while he was working at the company, you set out to bake his favorite cookies.

It was a great idea and you knew it — problem resided precisely in that: it was a great idea. You clearly didn’t factor in your plan the amount of things that could prevent you from achieving your goal of making the perfect cookies: for one, you were awful in the kitchen; and two, you were not familiar with the dorm’s kitchen… why you thought it’d be a good idea to make the cookies there instead of in the comfort zone that was your own apartment, you didn’t know. You figured it’d make it even more special if he was welcomed with the smell of freshly baked cookies as he arrived at his shared apartment.

So, these two factors left you where you were now: looking nervously at the clock and to the mess in front of you, cursing yourself. Minho and Seungmin were going to kill you with their own hands.

How did you get flour everywhere and why was the mix nowhere near what it should look like?

You wanted to scream with frustration, thinking of what to fix first when you heard the door open. You cursed under your breath and heard Jeongin’s voice calling for you, probably wondering why the lights were on.

“Y/N?” the maknae said, clearly he was the first one to cross the door and that was why he was the one who noticed your presence. You were glad it wasn’t one of the yanderes, at least.

“In the kitchen!” you called out, hiding your face in your hands after.

“WHY?” Minho sounded equally worried and astounded. You couldn’t blame him for that, he had a point there.

Instead of answering, you just let out a whine, hearing Felix chuckle come closer. You put your hands down, looking at him as he entered the kitchen and just blinked, taking in the mess you made.

“What are we making?” he asked, as if this was perfectly normal.

The blush that crept to your face was probably louder than your words. “Your favorite cookies.”

“Okay.” he simply stated, a sweet smile on his face as he got closer to you, one hand circling your waist to pull you closer while the other one took a whisk, clearly ready to fix the mix and then help you clean.

God, he was just so perfect.

An hour later, as you’re taking the last batch of cookies out of the oven, Felix kisses your cheek while you finish wiping the counter.

“Thank you for the cookies, love.” Felix says, so sincerely you can’t help the laugh you let out.

“But you did everything!” you complain, still laughing.

“But you tried to make them! that’s enough, I love the gesture.” he states, kissing your cheek again, so you turn to kiss him properly, heart so full of love you feel like it’s going to burst.

#✿ . . cami writes #skz x reader #skz imagines #stray kids x reader #stray kids x y/n #stray kids x you #lee felix x reader #lee felix x y/n #lee felix x you #lee felix x female reader #lee felix fluff #skz fluff

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blacktacmopsi · 1 month

Text

Hanging Fire: Part 1.

----------------------------------------------------------

| Hesh X Female! Reader X Keegan | Smut (MDNI) | CW: Oral Sex, DP, General Smut |

The first installment of what is turning out to be a rather long fic about being stuck in a Federation outpost waiting to get extracted. This first part doesn't contain smut, but it's definitely leading up to it. Overall, this work is porn with little plot.

Note: I did not proof read this & sorry this one is kind of long that I had to break it into pieces.

Shout out to the lovely @xoxunhinged for helping me with some ideas on how to transition from stuck to smut. Luv ya!

Hanging Fire: Part 2 >

Another night with the soft pitter-patter of rain hitting the broken windowpane. Another night of uncomfortable humidity drenching your skin in slick sweat. Another night, stuck in the abandoned outpost amid the Amazon’s verdant embrace, in the center of Federation territory. The mission with you, Hesh, and Keegan was successful...except for one tiny factor. You three were being hunted down. The Federation didn't take too kindly to you bunch sabotaging another LOKI facility, setting back their chance of creating their own orbital defense system from the salvaged parts of ODIN. Scrambling forces, they were hot on your escape which had delayed extraction by a few days, forcing you three to lay low until the heat died down.

"Man, we really kicked the hive on this one," Hesh sighed as he stood with his rifle looking out the broken, rain spattered, window into the blackness of the Amazon that surrounded them. You sat on a rickety cot across the small room while Keegan leaned against an old desk with broken radio coms. This was definitely a communication outpost for the Federation that looked forgotten in time. It was dank, dark, dingy, and dirty.

"Any word from Kick on extraction?" You ask as you lean back, rolling your shoulders to try and ease the tension.

"Merrick and the rest are waiting for a good window to open up. They're hoping for the next day or so," Keegan speaks flatly, almost like he's experienced this kind of thing too many times to count or care.

You had been with the Ghosts for a while now and had a great working relationship with the guys. However, there was something about the relationship you had with Hesh and Keegan that was different from the others. There was a flirtation in their behavior with you that wasn't unwelcome. You did like both men quite a lot and did find them to be rather easy on the eyes- Hesh with his broad and fit frame & Keegan with those penetrating blue eyes and arousing voice. In fact, that was the silver lining to this entire shit situation. At least you were stuck with them in this tiny outpost. It could have been way worse.

But still, the tension showed. Even being stuck with these two men couldn’t fully expunge the sheer risk and danger that mounted with every passing second you were not extracted safely. It was the unspoken specter that loomed over you three. Sure, you were all safe, for now… but how long would that last?

"I think we'll be clear for another night. It’s looking quiet out there," Hesh speaks lowly. He lowers his rifle and walks over to where you and Keegan are, sitting on the dirt dusted floor.

“Another night of waiting it out,” Keegan speaks as he stretches, drawing himself to full height. You can’t help but look at the two men before you and wonder how they can be so calm. Yes, you had been in some high-risk situations and usually had a level head with these things, but waiting this long was beginning to take its toll on you. Being confined to the little outpost shack was causing you to get pent up in more ways than one and this was something that didn’t escape the observant gaze of both Hesh & Keegan. They noticed you biting your fingernails more and the way you fiddled with your hands. It was only when you began bouncing your leg, that Hesh spoke up.

“Hey, you hangin' in there?” He speaks with that concerned voice you’ve heard him use before. “I know a nervous tic when I see one.”

You look up at him, his face painted with eye black in that characteristic skull resembling pattern he always does. “Barely…” you mutter.

“It’s going to be alright. Merrick and the rest are on their way. Besides, if Feds were coming, they would already be here by now.” Hesh was always good at reassuring people and was definitely a cool-headed man in these situations. His resolve was truly impressive. Yet, the anxiety he felt was palpable. You could see it in the way he always kept his rifle near him and how he barely let himself merely rest, ever constantly alert.

“Though this is stressful, we’ve all been in worse,” Keegan speaks up.

You can’t help but crack a small smile. Thank god it was these two that you were stuck with!

“How do you all do it? Not let the tension get to you? I genuinely want to know.”

The two men take a moment to consider your question. How did they stay so calm in dire situations? Were they even sure themselves?

“You know… I’m not sure. I just do,” Keegan chuckles shifting his stance. “You’ve been doing good though, kid. Holding your own.”

“Keegan’s right. Others would have cracked under this pressure.”

You sit up a little, popping your back getting a little bit of physical relief.

“What do you both do to get rid of the tension? Like, after a stressful mission, how do you both unwind? Because I don’t believe for a second you two are running on pure adrenaline 24/7. There’s no way.”

Hesh chuckles, leaning back. “Well, nothing beats a good, long, relaxing shower. That’s the first thing I’m doing when getting back. Some ‘self-love’ if you catch my drift.”

“Yeah, a ‘self-loving’ shower always hits the spot,” Keegan chimes in with a hint of amusement in his voice. “And you?”

You debate if you want to admit to the guys what you really do to kick the stress. On one hand, you don’t want to admit to having some time with your ‘friendly fingers’ but on the other, what’s the worst that can happen? You’re stuck with these two guys you admittedly had a thing for. Besides, you’ve built a deep camaraderie with them and in this situation, why not? Plus, they already, technically, admitted the same to you.

“Same,” you answer.

Hesh cocks an eyebrow and an incredulously bemused looks spreads across his face. “I didn’t think you’d admit that out loud.”

“Well, she has needs too, so…” Keegan mentions as he sighs, crossing his arms.

“Yeah…needs…hmmm,” Hesh speaks softly keeping eye contact on you. You can’t help but stare back at him noticing the verdant allure of his eyes. There is definitely a longing behind them you can’t ignore. But it wasn’t just Hesh’s eyes on you. Keegan’s were as well. The three of you fell into silence. Now there was a different tension being generated in the little outpost shack. Your eyes dart between the two men as the realization hits you- They were surely pent up and just confessed to rubbing one out in the showers. On top of that, you also fessed up that you took care of yourself. The solution presented itself as obvious. The unspoken awareness of this information was now on all of your minds: Why wait for the showers and the comfort of your hands when you three were all in need of a certain kind of relief? One that could, really, be given by each other. Hesh was the first to break the silence that bloomed as this epiphany dawned upon you all.

“Well…I think we’re all on the same page here...and can help one another ease this pressure we’re all feeling.” His voice is low and tinted with a sensuality you have never heard before. You begin to feel your pulse pick up as the implications of what he said hit you like a brick in the face.

“Right now? No. Are you crazy?” You can’t believe he seriously is suggesting this. Yet, your reasoning had no bearing on Hesh. He rose up from the floor to sit beside you on the rickety cot, inching very close.

“Think about it. We’re all stressed. We’re all pent up. We have an opportunity here. It can just stay between us three.” He turns to look at Keegan who has his thick dark eyebrows raised. Almost as if he’s considering the proposition.

“Hesh does have a point. A little relief and comfort could help us stay sane here.” Hesh turns back to face you with a soft smile on his face.

“What do you say?”

#call of duty ghosts #cod ghosts #call of duty #keegan p russ #cod keegan #keegan cod ghosts #keegan cod #keegan smut #BlackTacMopsi Writes Garbage #hesh smut #cod hesh #david hesh walker #hesh walker

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wildflowerluver · 1 year

Text

clementine

aaron hotchner x fem!reader

the hotchner family adopts a new pet

cw: established relationship, jack calls reader ‘mom’, aaron is a cat person, bau reader

wc: 1.8k

༺♡༻

jack first posed the question about getting a pet at family dinner.

you and aaron could both tell something was on his mind. he was picking at his mac and cheese, typically his favorite meal, and had a certain look on his face that usually meant he had something on his mind.

the last time jack acted like this was when he wanted to ask if he could start to call you ‘mom.’

aaron was the first to take the bait. “not hungry, buddy?”

jack shrugged. his silence was more than telling.

you glanced towards aaron to see where he was going to go with this though before he could say anything, jack was finally speaking up.

“can we get a pet?” he asked.

clearly the immediate silence wasn’t the answer jack was looking for.

“please, please!” jack begged.

you stayed quiet. as much as you would love to get a pet to fulfill jack’s wants, you know the ultimate decision is up to aaron.

“jack,” aaron started. “your mom and i are away too much for a pet. we wouldn’t be able to care for it. plus animals are a lot of work and they’re messy.”

“but i could help!” jack protested.

“i’m sorry buddy but it wouldn’t work out. maybe when you’re a little older.”

jack frowned at the rejection and sunk back into his seat. you reached across the table to squeeze his hand.

the rest of the dinner went by with little disturbance. although jack was still upset, he eventually started to eat and talk about his day.

while aaron cleared the plates and began on the dishes once you were finished eating, you leaned towards the young boy.

“cat or dog?” you whispered to jack.

he thought about it for only a moment, his face mimicking the way he concentrates when doing a math problem.

“cat,” jack decided.

you beamed. “i think that can be arranged.”

____

you and jack devised a plan to convince aaron behind his back.

you gathered a few sheets of large paper and some art supplies and let him get started. the entire thing was jack’s work. you simply helped with the spelling when asked. there were a few things he wouldn’t let you see and you turned a blind eye.

the next time a family pet gets brought up is a few weeks later.

you and aaron had a long case out west.

a week without sufficient rest or seeing jack were all factors that made aaron easily convinced to give the team a long weekend.

jack was ecstatic to have both of his parents home for a few days. you spent the first few hours simply resting and sleeping off the jet lag before jack had dragged you both into the living room.

“i need to show you guys something,” jack giggles. “i have to go get it. stay here!”

you curl into aaron’s side before jack is rushing back into the room. his arms are filled with an array of multi-colored paper and sporting the same grin that aaron had on some occasions.

“i really really want a cat,” jack starts. “so i worked really hard on a few reasons why.”

jack sorts through the paper to find his first point while aaron turns to you.

“did you know about this?” aaron murmurs.

you meet his gaze, biting your lip to hide your smile.

“no idea,” you answer. he doesn’t push it after you kiss his cheek.

jack presents each reason with growing emotion. he’s drawn visuals too. your heart melts when you see the stick figure version of the three of you. even on paper you and aaron are holding hands.

he ends it by handing his dad a letter.

“what’s this?” aaron raises an eyebrow.

“aunty penny said she would watch the cat whenever you are working,” jack explained. “she even signed it!”

aaron skims the note and you resist the urge to laugh at jack’s creativity. no wonder he had a few things you couldn’t be a part of.

“what do you think?”

the question was turned to you. “i think that an animal would keep jack company while we work. plus cats aren’t as much work as dogs. and if penelope said she would watch it then i’m in.”

aaron’s face shifts into the serious one you only see during work hours. for a moment, you think he’s gonna shoot the whole idea down. he instead squeezes your leg.

“we can go to the shelter tomorrow.”

____

jack was bouncing in his seat the entire drive to the shelter.

you had to admit, you were pretty excited too. moving in with aaron was a massive milestone in your relationship, but adopting an animal together feels like a whole new realm.

on the way over, the three of you discussed what kind of cat you would want. there wasn’t much bias besides age; the idea of jack growing up with a kitten seemed like the obvious choice.

you called ahead to the shelter to let them know about your interest in adopting. a vet took you around to the various cages/rooms to show you what animals were available for adoption.

you stopped in front of one of the rooms that had a few different cats in it. aaron hoisted jack up to rest on his hip so he could see.

a little orange tabby kitten who was sleeping in one of the beds caught your eye.

she was only a few months old and was just dropped off at the shelter that morning. she hadn’t even been listed on the ‘new animals’ section of the website.

one look from jack to you and aaron confirmed that you would be leaving the shelter with her.

“this the one you want, buddy?” aaron asked. you squeezed his hand.

jack nodded his head quickly. he shot forward, doing his best to wrap both of his short arms around you and aaron. “thank you! thank you! thank you!” he repeated.

you and aaron had a long series of papers you needed to fill out though in comparison to work files, it didn’t feel like much. it was standard things: who lived in the house, any other pets, and a few other general things about the adoption itself.

it’s not long before a vet guides you, aaron, and jack to a private room where the kitten is.

aaron keeps a firm hand on jack’s shoulder as you walk in. “remember buddy, she’s a lot smaller than you are. she might be nervous too. be gentle, okay?”

the kitten takes her time to investigate the three of you in the room. to help aid her comfort, you sit down on the floor and pat the spot next to you for jack to sit. she sniffs you and jack first before she hops into your lap.

you pet the kitten in your arms. “look aaron, we’re parents of two now.”

aaron leaned down to kiss the crown of your head.

the tabby, still nameless, pushed herself out of your arms and trotted over to where aaron stood behind you. she sniffed him for only a moment before rubbing against his pant leg.

“i think someone likes you,” you grinned as you peered up to him.

“i’m just glad she likes me on the day i wear jeans.”

his grumble is ignored as the kitten looks up towards his stoic face and lets out one of the quietest meows you’ve ever heard. she raised one paw as if to ask for attention.

jack shifted to sit in your lap as aaron knelt down.

his hand is enormous in comparison to the small animal. it doesn’t take a profiler to see the smile tugging at aaron’s lips. he pets her gently. the tabby’s purring starts almost immediately.

“i think she needs a name,” aaron suggests.

you turn to jack. it was his idea after all.

“she’s orange,” jack points out. “how about clem-cleme-”

the full word is still a bit of a challenge for him to say.

“clementine,” aaron finishes for his son.

“yeah!”

aaron finally scoops her up to hold her.

“welcome to the family clementine.”

____

though aaron was initially hesitant to adopt an animal, clementine fits right into the family.

true to his word, jack helps out with caring for her. penelope takes care of clem too when you and aaron are away. she and sergio have become good friends.

it’s not all easy, there’s definitely struggles. clementine sheds a lot. aaron has had to purchase more lint rollers than ever before, especially after clementine has developed a habit of sleeping on his suit jackets.

the joy of companionship outweighs the minimal time it takes aaron to lint roll his suit.

clementine is great for jack with you and aaron working. even when you’re home and aaron is stuck at the office, she provides a source of comfort when you’re missing him. like tonight, when aaron was swarmed with extra files from the previous case. you offered to help, of course, but he refused. it was already late and he knew you needed sleep.

aaron unlocks the door and steps in quietly. he knows jack is asleep upstairs and doesn’t want to wake him. he cracks open his son’s door to check on him before entering your shared bedroom.

the lights are off and aaron can infer that you’re asleep. however, you aren’t alone in bed.

“hi clem,” aaron greets the kitten who was curled up beside you. “taking my spot?”

clementine chirps and rolls her head against his hand.

“aaron?” your voice is gravely as you peel your eyes open.

even in the dark you can still make out his silhouette.

“hi honey,” aaron whispers. he leans down to kiss the corner of your mouth, just ghosting your lips. when you whine, he finally kisses you properly. “sorry for waking you up though i see clementine has been keeping you company?”

the kitten chirps from her spot on the blanket.

“oh,” you start, a bit more awake now. “she’s been here all night. i think she’s happy to see you.”

“i don’t doubt that.”

aaron gets ready for bed as quiet as possible. after slipping into pajamas and brushing his teeth, he’s crawling into bed beside you. just as you move to curl into his chest, clementine is padding up the blanket before promptly sitting on aaron’s chest.

your giggle is quiet. aaron huffs, clearly expecting to be cuddling with you and not a kitten.

you kiss him gently and maneuver yourself to still be close to him.

“goodnight aaron.”

“goodnight honey.”

when you wake up the next morning, aaron and clementine are still snuggled together.

#criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds angst #criminal minds x y/n #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch fic #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner x you

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 5 months

Text

Carpe Noctem 29

Warnings: dark elements, noncon, age gap, gaslighting, manipulation, violence, blood, other dark elements. Proceed with caution. (short!reader)

Note: Please let me know what you think as it helps me a lot with ideas and I love interacting with you all.

Part of The Club AU

“I should go,” you get up as Cole comes back in the back office, “I’m so sorry about today–”

“Go? Where?” He asks as he stands in the door. “Back to that maniac?”

“Well, I…” you swallow and let out an exasperated sigh, “yeah, I have to–”

“You don’t have to,” he insists, “you shouldn’t. Someone that angry can be pretty dangerous.”

“I know, it’s just–” you have no argument, no excuse, just the truth, “I don’t have anywhere else to go.”

“You don’t?” He wonders.

You shake your head and grab your jacket from the rack, “I’ll be fine. I’m sure he’s calmed down. I shouldn’t have lied–”

“But you did. For a reason. If that’s how he reacts… you never mentioned a boyfriend,” Cole shifts on his soles.

“Boyfriend?” You almost laugh, “no, not exactly.”

“It’s complicated, got it,” he nods, “well, you were wrong, you know?”

“About what?” You take your pure of a lower hook on the rack.

“That you don’t have anywhere to go. I’m just putting it out there,” he raises a hand to rub the stubble along his jaw, “if you need somewhere to stay, er, my parents’ could spare a guest room.”

“Oh, Cole, no, I couldn’t. That’s too much. I’d hate to impose on your family like that.”

“Uh, you definitely wouldn’t be. My mom would love to meet you,” he lets himself smile, “I brought home some of the extra treats and she loved them. She’s a baker too.”

“That’s— that’s sweet,” you shrug and look away, “I just don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

“I wouldn’t suggest it if it wasn’t,” he insists, “but I really don’t feel great about you going back to a man like that. I’m big enough to defend myself, but you…”

You know he’s right. This isn’t the first time you’ve seen Lloyd get violent and just like with Johnny, it’s only inevitable that it turns on you. You’re not exactly excited to go back to that house.

“All my stuff…” you begin, arguing with yourself as much as him.

“My ma has some stuff she can lend you for the night,” he offers, “as long as you don’t mind flannel. And I’m sure you could use a nice warm meal.”

“Cole,” you rub along your jaw evasively as you look away, “I just… I feel so bad about putting you out. Your parents too.”

“You’re not. You know, I think you surround yourself with the wrong people. The sort that make kindness seem like a debt to be paid back. You don’t owe me anything. I’m just being decent, like anyone should,” He turns his hands out. “But if you say no, I’m not letting you walk out of her without my phone number. And you have to promise to call me if anything goes bad.”

You frown and look at your feet. Lloyd could use the night to cool off just as much as you. You cross your arms then force them straight. He’s entirely right. You’re letting all those others people who bargain courtesy like currency colour your doubts. Why should you begrudge him the action of others when he’s only ever been nice?

“Did you ask your parents? I don’t want to be a surprise,” you chew your lip.

He smiles, “I texted ma but I’ll give a call before we go. Trust me, you’re more than welcome.”

☕

The drive is longer than you expect, but not. You should’ve figured that the farm would be out in the country. At the same time, you never factored in the time it must take Cole to commute each day. It whittles another ounce of appreciation out of you. He seems too kind for his own good.

That generosity sees you in his passenger seat. You left your car behind at the cafe to save you gas and the trouble of driving. You didn’t fight too hard. You want to be in one place and still.

He steers down a long dirt road and as the moon disappears behind a thicket of trees, the land turns desolate. Your chest sinks just a little but as the silver light breaks free again, you let out a breath of relief. Ahead you see the yellow windows of the farmhouse and dark colossus of the barn not far behind it.

Cole pulls up behind a big red truck and shifts into park. The motor cranks slightly before he turns it off. You can’t help but wonder how someone like him came to own a cafe in the city. Maybe after so long in the rural desert, the urban sprawl must be alluring chaotic.

He gets out first before you muster your strength. He comes around, startling you as he opens the door for you. You thank him, the gentlemanly gesture almost jarring. You’re so unused to kindness, it unsettles you. That should tell you something. It’s a ringing cry for change.

“Are you sure…” you begin the same question you’ve asked every five minutes for the last hour.

“Sure,” he interjects firmly, “really, ma always cooks too much and my sister’s off finding herself. Again. She’ll be happy to have you around.”

You nod and climb up the wide porch steps beside him. He pulls back the screen door and waves you in ahead of him. A fragrant aroma draws you in; roast beef and roasted veggies. The homey glow embraces you, welcoming you without a word.

“Here,” he tugs on the back of your jacket, “I’ll get this.”

He hangs his own coat as you undo yours and hand it over. He puts it over his own then beckons you on. Hesitantly, you follow his direction, walking down a walnut trimmed hallway to a dining room decorated in faded florals and pine.

“Ethan,” a woman calls through before she appears in the doorway across from you, a large dimpled glass dish in her hands, “oh! I thought you were your father– eee! This must be her.”

She rushes to the table and sets the steaming dish on a potholder. She still has her oven gloves as she sweeps around the room, “Beverly,” she introduces herself, pulling you into a hug, “I’ve heard so much about you.”

“Uh,” you gulp as she squeezes you, only releasing you as Cole clears his throat. “I’ve heard a lot about you too.”

“Really?” She nearly squeals, keeping you at arm’s length, “he didn’t say you were so pretty.”

Your eyes round and you let out a nervous giggle. Cole groans under his breath and brushes his hand over his sandy hair. It’s kind of cute when your own parents were never so excited to see you.

“Thanks, that’s too sweet,” you smile, “erm, thanks for having me.”

“Oh, of course, of course,” she titters as she lets you go, “Cole always had a soft spot for those in need.” She turns to him and touches where his cheekbone is still red from his scuffle with Lloyd, “and look at him, my knight in shining armor. How many times do I have to tell you not to fight? You never were very good at it.”

“Ma,” he urges her away from him, “I’m fine.”

A ding chimes from the kitchen and she springs back, “oh, that’s the dumplings.”

She spins and hurries off, leaving you off balance. You slowly face Cole and put your hands on your hips, “so how much did you tell her?”

“As much as I know,” he rubs his neck sheepishly, “I’m sorry. I didn’t want her to freak out when she saw my face and– it wasn’t anything that makes you look bad.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about. I don’t want to be a charity case,” you cross your arms.

“Trust me, you’re far from it,” he assures you, “really. I want you here.”

You don’t know what to say. You don’t trust your own judgment. Whether he means it or not, it hardly matters. You’re just grateful to have a night away from it all. Some time might be just what Lloyd needs to grow some common sense.

#lloyd hansen #dark lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #cole turn #drabble #series #au #ghosted #the gray man #carpe noctem #the club

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genderfluid-insomniac · 10 months

Note

Hey! I hope you’re having a fantastic day, and is drinking plenty of water! If it’s not to much to ask, I was wondering if I could request a hurt/comfort for Macaque X fem!reader ? I personally think Macaque would be incredibly insecure about his appearance when in a relationship. He has lost an eye, he is scarred, he has six ears, AND he’s also a “ugly” monkey humanoid (which he strongly thinks human!reader would find unattractive compared to a normal human). He already goes as far to hide his true appearance from everyone. I need the reader to convince him that he’s pretty and doesn’t need to hide it! Thank you so much if you choose to take this one on!

Much love! -anon

The beautiful faults you hide from me ///Sick!Insecure!Six-Eared Macaque x reader

“Mac?” You waited a few seconds before calling out again and heading toward the upper half of his apartment (or more like a furnished and repaired abandoned warehouse). The past couple of days you hadn’t heard from your boyfriend which concerned you given that it was winter and Macaque didn’t do so well in the cold. Ever since you’d known him, he always ran cold temperature-wise, which didn’t bode well because he stayed inside as much as possible during winter so he wouldn’t get sick.

From where his bedroom was you heard a small sneeze and figured that's where he was residing, upon entering his room you could see that it was more messy than usual. The most shocking thing was that you could see all the features your lover usually hid with magic but that only meant something wasn’t right. It wasn’t that he never showed you what he actually looked like, that’s not what it was, he was actually just insecure about his scars despite you telling you countless times that you love him no matter what.

That didn’t matter though right now, you were more concerned about him and how sick he looked. “Macaque? Are you okay?” When you got no answer you rushed over and felt his forehead….It was so hot. You rushed to the kitchen and grabbed some cold water and a damp washcloth, quickly turning on the thermostat and getting back to your feverish lover. Macaque stirred as you entered the room and groaned, joints popping and voice creaking when he tried to voice his worries.

But you shushed him after you put the damp cloth on his forehead and attempted to coax him to drink. His red pointed mask that painted his face was dull and the usual vibrant color of his ears was pale, despite all that he still looked beautiful as always and even more so as the scars that covered his body showed how strong he’d been. The parts of his fur that were white, which when you asked him was due to being under Lady Bone Demons’ control or his original white fur before he died, faded into his normal black color and you couldn’t help but stare at the rare sight before you.

“I know-” Macaqued coughed and grasped his throat, wincing at the dryness and greedily taking the water you offered. Drips of water dripped past his mouth and got caught on the tangled facial fur as his adam's apple bobbed up and down, panting heavily to catch his breath and handing the cup back to you. “I know I look ugly but you don’t have to stare.” His voice hissed harshly at you and the glare he shot at you would have been more effective if you didn’t know him better. “Moonlight, you and I both know no one looks their best when they’re sick. But what’s causing me to stare is the possibility that you no longer have enough magic to even maintain your glamours much less your healing factor and I’m worried for you.”

The glance the shadow demon tossed to the side told you all you needed to know before you went through a chest beneath the bed and found the medications you needed. Taking the herbs and mixing them with modern chemicals, grinding them into a powder, and mixing them into potent tea (it didn’t taste the best but it got the job done). “Macaque? I hope you know that I truly love you no matter what you look like and those scars are proof of how strong you are. Not to mention you’re beyond beautiful ears and every small reaction they give, especially when something blushes against them.” To give an example you trailed your hand down the lowest pair of ears and softly chuckled when they twitched and fluttered at the attention.

You saw how your lover went to hide his flustered expression and intertwined his moving hand with yours, bringing them up to your cheek and kissing the back of it. “Moonlight? Can you look at me? I know you’re sick but this is very important before I give you your medicine cause you’ll get very sleepy.” He looked at you and your heart nearly fell at the tears pooling on his lids, the lip being held between his teeth and occasional trembles due to being cold. “Never ever will I judge you for how you look. You’re so gorgeous I fall in love again every time I look at you and the best part is you’re mine. All mine and no one else's.” You pressed a kiss to his nose and rubbed his cheek, wiping away the tears he finally allowed to fall.

The steaming tea was discarded on a nearby table as you moved on the bed and positioned yourself so Macaque laid on your lap facing your stomach and wrapping his arms around you. “I love you, Name.” He whispered and moved carefully so you could help him drink the tea, cooing at him to slow down and take his time. You stifled a laugh when he finished and stuck his tongue out in disgust. “I need to work on the taste portion of my medicinal practices when I get better.” Smiling at his attitude which already seemed to be better and tracing the scar going over his right eye, planning to tell him later that the scars and most of the features he hides are actually what fluster you more than his teases.

#lmk macaque #lmk x reader #lmk macaque x reader #six eared macaque x reader #six eared macaque

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cupcakeslushie · 2 years

Note

I've actually been wondering something. How are birthdays with each brother? I assume Leo and Donnie don't get to celebrate theirs but I wonder if Mikey gets to celebrate his at all. Does Raph celebrate his alone or does Splinter also celebrate the other's as if they were there?

Yeah Leo and Donnie don’t really do birthdays until everyone reunites, and then they kinda just decide to share a birthday after all the jokes about them being twins.

Big Mama picked the day she found Mikey for his birthday and they always celebrated with a huge party, where Mikey had to dress in uncomfortable, itchy clothes and it was never really much fun, but at least he got cake. Splinter goes all out for Raph’s birthday, he makes yakiniku, mochi and a cake, and after they meet April, she’s always invited. After they get separated, the days of Leo and Mikey’s birthdays were a pretty solemn affair, and usually Splinter wouldn’t get up and out of bed until noon, and hobbled together a late breakfast for him and Raph. Splinter builds a small shrine in the dojo for both of the boys, and he and Raph spend some time in there, before choosing some sort of quiet activity where they can just sit together and maybe as Raph gets older, reminisce.

After they reunite, birthdays are insane. And the boys, Splinter and April spend all day together before crashing in a food coma.

When they first meet, Draxum has already briefed Three on Two’s involvement with the Shredder. Draxum was pretty shocked when he first discovered Two’s location after all these years, but he hid it well and ordered Three not to mention it outright. Instead he wanted Three to try and gauge how deep Two’s loyalty to the foot clan ran. In the year between them first meeting and Leo dissenting they probably only had the chance to interact five or six times, as Draxum’s dealings with Shredder were short, to the point meetings, every few months. But Three couldn’t help in the few times they did chat, to drive Leo crazy with how much he talked. So they didn’t really have a relationship, even with Three grabbing any connection he could and holding onto it for dear life. Leo saw their conversations as nothing more than Three rambling nonsensically, while he stood guard and tuned it out.

Before leaving the foot clan, Leo’s personality is pretty non-existent. He did what he was told and was just as ruthlessly efficient as his master. After rejoining his brothers he works on opening up, but it’s hard for him. Leo’s a pretty disciplined person, and the lair is pure chaos even before they bring Donnie home, so Leo’s often losing his cool over the smallest of things being out of order. He’s not used to the freedom, and it makes him uneasy and irritated constantly, which he, unfortunately, tends to take out on his bros and Splinter.

Leo’s attitude towards Three shifts somewhat, when he discovers who he really is, and Leo happens to be the biggest factor in bringing Donnie home for good. Add in the fact that he’s the only one Donnie has a previous link to, and it makes sense that he would gravitate to Leo the most. But it’s still very awkward because Leo just doesn’t know how to handle such an intense level of attention. Leo does try though—he likes being a big brother to Mikey, and is fine accepting the twin idea as long as it’s clear that he’s the older one. But their relationship doesn’t solidify until Leo messes up his sleep schedule and for lack of anything more entertaining, decides to spends his nights in the Donnie’s lab, watching his brother work. Sometimes they talk, and sometimes it’s just Donnie tinkering, but it breaks that awkwardness and gives them enough opportunity to be more real with each other. Eventually they get to a point where they can tease, and drive each other crazy in the same brotherly way they do in the show.

Also I just hit 5000 followers!! I just wanna reiterate how awesome this fandom is and how much I love y’all!!

#ask slushie #separated au #rottmnt #rottmnt separated au #rise donnie #rise leo #rise mikey #rise raph #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles

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grapejuicestyless · 11 months

Text

I Don’t Need Your Closure.

Harry Styles x Fem!Reader

Summery: In the storm that is change, Harry seems to forget the one constant in his life.

It was predictable that with the hiatus announced, there was no eighteen months. That was it. They had the time they had left and that’s all they had to give. I’d known it since Harry had told me almost two years ago. Telling me about the idea they’d drawn up after years of nonstop working, the twinkle in his eye showed more than excitement for a break, but for a new start.

I knew him like that. I knew when he was happy, or nervous. When he was beating himself internally after a shaky performance or he was trying to remain calm in the most intense situations. I could read Harry like the back of my hand. I knew him in and out. We’d stay up for hours talking and talking until we wanted to just about die from over sharing and opening wounds to each other we didn’t realize were there until we’d felt the comfort of confessing our truths to each other.

You realize a blanket of protection seems to wrap around yourself once you’re in such an emotionally trusting relationship. It’s subconscious yet dangerous. You forget why you even had walls put up so strong and forget how to catch yourself when you fall.

I always knew that with the break, permanent or now, whatever Harry had convinced himself, there would be changes in our lives.

How naïve I was to believe it would be good. Such a fool to have thought I would be there to grow and change with him. How blissfully unaware I was that Harry had fallen so far into the wonderful newness of a fresh start that he forgot to love the one thing he’d always had.

I dedicated six years of my life to him. Having been asked out by the curly headed boy just weeks before his audition. The blush evident on his cheeks and the nervousness projecting through his bleeding cuticles and his bitten lips. I still had the, “We believe Harry has the X-Factor” t-shirt folded neatly at the bottom of one of my drawers.

And how invested I had become through his career. Helping him on the nights where it just all seemed too much for a teenage boy to be dealing with. When he felt neglected or abused, forgotten by his old friends or exploited by the tabloids so young, I had been the one to pick him up and work him through it. Sleeping pressed against his body in his tour bus so tightly we joked I would leave an indent in his side.

So, when he began to start his new album, and planned to fly far away to get into the right headspace, I couldn’t have imagined he had wanted me away from him. Always being told I was his biggest muse for everything he had done, I was blind sighted by everything he’d done.

It was cruel, and twisted the way I could have poured my everything into someone just for them to leave me dry and bleeding out.

The knowledge that he had this wonderful new start, a new success and dropped the one thing that stayed through his lowest points was like picking the scab over and over and watching it bleed.

It made me wish I hadn’t spent so much time devoted to him.

I was happy for him when the album was a success. It was obvious when he’d left me I still rubbed some final inspiration onto his work. His songs, ‘Only Angel’ and ‘Two Ghosts’ perfectly depicting situations only we’d been through. The way his fans practically ran to his aid after finding out about our separation almost made me even more angry. How quickly they were able to victimize him and coddle him made me sick.

What about me? What about the woman you’d welcomed into the fandom family with open arms so long ago. The woman who you’d stop on the streets for photos with and tell all about you day to? What about me, who was suffering in this all alone. No support from anyone. All my friends, were his. When we split, it only made sense for them to drift from me. I was a loose end meant to be severed.

So all alone, for a year or two, I watched him tour and bask in his new success, while I watched farther than ever before, selfishly wishing he would crumble under the pressure and fall face first. And even in my pity party, I couldn’t find a single piece of me that could hate him.

Sometimes he sent letters. I got them. All decorated with fancy boarders and sparkling wording that swooped and swirled in beautiful cursive letters. Invitations to house parties and shows nearby. Tickets prepaid, and VIP passes sent in the envelope.

Him and his constant need to leave no traces of bad blood in his life. His persistence in trying to be friends again. Trying to have a relationship together. He longed to have that stability he once had in his life.

Sure, we’d both dated around. Him, a tall brunette I didn’t recognize for a month and me, a few dates here and there. None ever stuck though. That knowing that someone was out there that I’d trusted enough to confess my deepest, most twisted confessions to had the ability to just walk out and have no care for the wreckage they’d left behind ruined everything I once adored. I grew trust issues. I found it hard to confide in even my closest friends, even if they’d done nothing wrong to lose it.

But, if that closure was what he wanted from me. If being friends would iron it out so nice for him, then I didn’t want it. It was like he was reaching out across a sea he had put between him and me. Trying to fix the distance he had purposefully placed when he left my life for the first and last time.

I missed him. I missed his vanilla cologne and his sweet kiss pressing across my face on the lazy mornings. I missed his hands in my hair and our drunken giggles. I miss him, still. All the time I think about how our family could’ve grown. How we could’ve been parents with little copy’s of each other running around. How we could’ve laid in the cozy living room arguing on if they looked more like him or me and eventually swooning over the features they got from each of us. I imagined I would say, “He has your eyes” and he would tell me our son had my smile.

But those daydreams could eventually drift away. I would continue to heal the longer I spent away from him. I would continue to grow and learn to trust and I would marry. I would find someone who could treat me the way I wished Harry had and I would forget about the man who ripped out my heart and made me forget how to breathe.

I would move on, and the letters will stop. If he really cares, he could come to me and beg on his knees. If he wanted to, he could. But he doesn’t so he doesn’t deserve what I could give him.

Yes, I got your letter. Yes, I’m doing better. I know that it’s over. I don’t need your closure.

#harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles imagine #harry styles angst #closure

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leonstoenailunderhisbed · 1 month

Text

Insurgency: Serpent Killer

Summary: A totalitarian regime reigns over a South American country in which the virus is being distributed to its citizens at the pretense of a “cure.” Leon was sent to retrieve a sample of the virus mutation when he stumbled upon a group of anti-government activists whose main goal is to overthrow their government. Will Leon help the cause or will he fall down with the government as well?

Warning: Mentions of mature themes. Read at your own discretion. Slow burn. Age gap (Leon is 38 and reader is 21+). Reader is female.

Word count: 1,598

A/N: this one’s short but pls bear with me it’s for the plot.

[part one][part two][part three][part four][part five][part six][part seven][part eight][bonus]

“I am constantly trying to communicate something incommunicable, to explain something inexplicable, to tell about something i only feel in my bones and which can only be experienced in those bones," - Franzs Kafka, Letters to Milena

The Insurgents went off to their control panel to deliver the message to President Mendez. Everyone could tell how hurt and angry you were. You were out for blood, and you didn't care about anything else other than seeing the president's head off of her body.

"Tonight, we will storm the tower and end things once and for all. I don't want more innocent people dying," you said and then turned to one of the insurgents, "Tell everyone to get ready for battle."

The insurgent nodded and you watched as everyone got to work. Leon could only stand behind you as he watched you become so blood thirsty.

"Y/n..."

"Leon," you turned around to look at him, "We can handle this ourselves. You are still an important factor for us and I don't want anything to happen to you."

Your tone changed. You didn't sound like the girl he kissed back in San Jolonia. But he knew better than to say anything. He nodded and then took a step towards you.

"I need to complete my mission," He spoke quietly as he leaned down to your ear to whisper, "Remember when I said I was a government agent?"

You nodded and waited for him to proceed, "I need to go to a research facility and extract some information, think you can help me?"

You looked at him with furrowed brows before silently nodding, "Fine. You've been helping us, guess it would be fair to help you as well."

Leon nodded, “Thanks,” he mumbled before he walked away from the room. Now that you were alone, you couldn’t help the surging thoughts running rampant in your mind.

More people dying. More blood. More battles. War.

You were angry and you needed to do something now.

The insurgents prepared their own artillery- tanks, bombs, guns. Anything they could use for battle was ready. As their new leader, you checked that everything was good to go before finally proceeding with the storm.

This was it.

“Alright people, let’s get a move on!“ the people began to move after your order. The sound of their footsteps echoing through the gates as the tanks and vehicles exited first.

You marched with the Insurgents as Leon wandered off to god knows where. You trusted him and right now what you needed to focus on was the fact that today is going to be day where war will take place. Right in the heart of Pruye.

The President received the war declaration and she wasn’t all too happy. She’d thought that after seeing the murders of the innocent civilians, everyone would stop defying her. It only caused the opposite to happen. She quickly turned to her assistant,

“I want you to bring the Membario test subjects. They want a war? I’ll give them one…”

Leon went back to San Jolonia. When you brought him there for scouting supplies, he saw a research facility and he knew that’s where he had to go for his mission.

He hadn’t forgotten the real reason he was here. All he needed to do was get the sample and go back to you for battle, it was that simple.

As he walked through the rubble of the ruined city, he was wondering why there weren’t any signs of B.O.Ws yet. He’d thought that he would see one by now but so far he hasn’t. Which was unsettling, by the way. Something felt sinister about today but he couldn’t put any reason behind this feeling. All he could do right now was enter the facility and hope to find a sample of the virus.

Bombs and bullets went off as you and your people marched through the gates of the inner city state. The tower had been protected by soldiers and tanks.

Smoke filled the air as the ground shook from all the explosives being exchanged on either side. Soldiers and insurgents dying left and right.

But they didn’t seemed to have noticed you sneak inside the tower, ready to climb up the endless stairs. Right towards the president’s office.

The research facility was abandoned but it still had many of its records. It was as if the place was still used. Leon walked around the place and briefly looked over some scattered files, which all contained relatively the same thing. All about Membario and the test subjects.

One paper in specific stood out to him.

Test Subject 119: Subject has responded to commands and has been subdued.

He furrowed his brows as he read the files, more confusion strikes him and he didn’t know what else to expect from all of this. Sure, he knew a war was coming, but what type of experiments happened down here? He only hoped that whatever it was, that it only got scrapped and forgotten.

The further he walked down the facility, the more eerie it got. And that’s because of a green light emitting from a room.

With quiet steps, he slowly approached the room with his gun at the ready. Slowly entering, he made sure to sun his gun at any potential threat. After noticing that nothing came at him, he lowered his weapon and began to look around the room.

In the center of the room, stood a cylindrical tank with green liquid inside. And inside that tank was a mutated humanoid that resembled an all too similar monster- a bio organic weapon.

The hairs of his neck stood up as he felt a chill run down his spine. It wasn’t like anything he fought before. It was more evil and looked almost human. He knew for sure that this must’ve been something related to the government, why else would they keep this hidden?

He needed that sample but he didn’t know how to get it. Instead he just walked away towards one of the computers and hooked up a secret device he hand at the bottom pit of the pockets of his pants. For once he was glad he didn’t have to fight something- or someone- for a sample.

Once Leon hacked the information into his device, he made a swift exit. All while taking a mental note of that humanoid B.O.W.

You barged into the president’s office with your gun pointed and aimed in front of you. Gasps were heard all throughout the room.

And there stood President Mendez.

It was overwhelming. You desperately wanted to pull the trigger but you knew better. Instead, you spoke up, “I’ve got you now… if I were you, I’d be careful with my next choice of action.”

The President chuckled as she lifted her hands beside her head, “I was waiting for this moment… I knew one of you would come and try to pull this stunt.”

Her laugh only made you more angry. You gripped the handle of your gun and took a step forward, “Release everyone and I’ll consider letting you live.”

President Mendez stopped laughing and stared at you with amusement, “I don’t think you’re in any position to make threats like that…” her smug smile irritated you. You felt nothing but rage building up inside you.

You pointed your gun at once of the soldiers next to her and shot him right in the head before turning your attention back to the President, “The difference between you and I… is that I do not hesitate,” you seethed through gritted teeth, taking another stop closer.

The President remained silent as she observed you for a good minute, “You won’t win this fight, you know that right?”

Your eyes narrowed at her statement, “Says who? Because so far, we’ve been beating you and your idiots.”

She laughed at you once again before lowering her hands, “Oh c’mon, take a look. I’ve won even before all of this started. I have connections, I have supporters, I have power. And what do you have? Dreams and a toy gun. You’re nothing compared to me and you’re a fool for believing you can even amount to anything near my level.”

Silence overtook the room as you glared at her.

“Let’s be real, shall we? I have the Americans on my side. The weapons that you and your little friends have come from me,” she walked around her desk to stand in front of you.

“Do not forget your place,” she whispered in your ear. With an angered huff, you swung the back of your gun at her face. President Mendez stumbled back and two soldiers ran up behind you. Each solder took your arm and held you in place. “You bitch!” You yelled at her as you thrashed around.

The President held the side of her face where you hit her and with anger she spoke, “Take her with the rest of them. I want her executed by tomorrow.”

The soldiers nodded before they started to drag you away, “YOU WILL PAY FOR THIS!!” You yelled right before the door closed and the soldiers dragged you down the stairs.

The soldiers took you down to their cellars and threw you into a cell with other people. Some were men and women and others were just children. It broke your heart and it only caused your anger to rise.

You are to be executed tomorrow and there was no one who could save you. You were angry but also disappointed.

Leon ran back to San Bandero where the Insurgents were fighting soldiers to storm the tower.

He decided to be useful and help kill some soldiers.

Unbeknownst to him that the new Insurgent leader got captured by the president.

#leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon scott kennedy #resident evil #id leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x reader #di leon #death island leon

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lestappenforever · 6 months

Note

Hello hellooo it’s your social psychological anon back with some takes because I have so much to say but am waiting till after the race but I, like most of the lesteppies, cannot get over the comments made at the post quali press con and had some very insistent thoughts that need to be aired immediately.

I am of course talking specifically about the comment from Max of “I always thought if I made it Charles would too”. This is an actual goldmine comment from Max because it really lets us have a glimpse and a clue into how Max thinking about Charles -apart from the obvious he is my rival and we hated each other as kids- and really beautifully contextualises their interactions (also explains further why Max is, for me atleast, such a standout factor in lestappen interactions). Because Charles says the opposite, that at the time F1 was so far away and he couldn’t even think about it and he didn’t have the same thoughts as Max. Keep in mind Max’s background, he was essentially conditioned for F1, to think that every other option is inadequate and that there can be no future except in F1. And in that future, he most likely factored in Charles as a given. When he thought about his future in F1 he thought about how he will fight Charles and when he thought about Charles he thought about them in F1 and I think that is absolutely insane and such an interesting window into how max has thought and continues to think about Charles. That quote about how Jos prophesied that they would be fighting even in F1 in the same way Max did the same, it is a natural conclusion that they would always be together and fighting because they were the standouts.

It makes me wonder then- pure speculation- that if Charles became synonymous with Max’s dream of a future at F1, how far Charles became a part of that dream and how far Max took on Charles’ success as his own as it contributed to the ultimate imagined future of Max fighting Charles in F1. It would certainly be in line with Max/Jos helping Charles once Max moved to F1 by recommending him (though this isn’t confirmed information so take this piece of lestappen lore with a pinch of salt) and Max essentially being rather unsatisfied that Charles’ team isn’t giving him a car that could allow them to fight. Their infamous 2019 Austria podium also where the differences between the two was seen where Max wanted to celebrate with him by turning towards him to spray champagne but Charles turned away and walked off rather angrily. In fact that entire season post-Austria you can see how Max is the one who is trying to interact with Charles and is looking for that approval and recognition from him, to have the reciprocity within recognising their joint achievement and how far they’ve come. I noticed it first with the flag-gate video where Max, geography extraordinaire, ✨forgets✨ what Monaco’s flag looks like. But even before that you can see max staring at Charles trying to think of ways to try and interact before he notices the flag and goes for it. (https://vm.tiktok.com/ZGeJ9yY74/ I first noticed it in this video so here it is, also the music is just fitting)

This also very much supports what I have previously said (https://www.tumblr.com/lestappenforever/733057722779664384/hello-hello-again-i-am-very-honoured-to-be-called) about Max’s insistence that they are rivals because he wants to have this relationship with him because it has been an integral part of his dream- in that way that you imagine scenarios of the future - Max doesn’t care about his rivalry with Lewis or Daniel or anyone else because it has to be Charles for that imagined future dream of them racing in F1 to come true- it has always been Charles and it always will be (que Charles verbatim saying that “he wants to beat me as much as I want to beat him and that’s how it is and always has been”)

This makes what Max says about them being here together hit so much harder because he first says he’s never been surprised that Charles is sitting here and then after a sentence reiterates again: “it’s not a surprise that we are sitting here together”. It’s not enough to say that he isn’t surprised Charles is here he has to go back and re-emphasis that it’s no surprise they are here together and re-frame the statement to put Charles and Max together. Again, I’ve said this before about performative relationships with those you regard highly and drawing a sense of intimacy from knowing that other people thinking about the two of them in conjunction with one another- in the minds of the outsider they exist as a duo and this is an impression that Max especially seems to want to cultivate (also seen during the interview where Max invites Charles because the interviewer literally says that he will ask Charles in a moment but Max will take the opportunity to bring them closer and that’s just 🤌).

Anyway, that’s all for the moment. Let’s collectively manifest on track action for our boys because they deserve it and maybe finally see a Charles pole to win conversion (as long as Max doesn’t try to dive bomb into him into turn 1 because that will defo be hectic for mid-field especially). ✨ 🫶

Clickable TIktok link for convenience.

Clickable link to previous ask for convenience.

Social-psychological anon is back with more brilliant insights into Lestappen dynamics.

Social-psychological anon, I have missed you so much, and this ask has made my entire weekend. The perspective you are giving into the Lestappen content from today is just *chef's kiss*. ❤️

#Asks #Anon asks #Lestappen asks #Lestappen dynamics anons #Social-psychological anon

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supernaturalscribe67 · 7 months

Text

Euphoric

Words: 3,587

POV: 3rd Person and brief 1st Person

Pairing: Gabriel x Trans!FTM!Winchester!Reader

Warning(s): Fluff, Language, Dysphoria, a single mention of Deadname (D/N), self-hate, mention of past self-harm, attempted self-harm, hurt/comfort

Summary: Dysphoria can hit at any moment, and when it hits, it hits hard. The reader is going through a tough time with the way he looks, doubting himself and the people around him. When he feels at his lowest, ready to seep back into his old ways, his boyfriend, Gabriel, is there to help him out.

Request:

Hi I've been binge-reading your stories recently and I was wondering if you could do this request. :)

So a Gabriel/FTM!Reader where the reader is dealing with really bad dysphoria (possibly mentioning past SH?) and a comforting Gabe? Possibly with an established relationship?

(Would be so fucking rad if he Sam and Dean's younger brother!!)

Tysm even if you don't do this, I love your work so much and it's helped so much recently

@genekies

A/N: I'm so sorry this took so long to get out, hun! A lot has been going on at work that has taken my focus away from writing. However, I finally found the inspiration to write this with the help of my Supernatural novels that I found hidden away in a box! I really hope you enjoy this story and that it brings you some type of comfort! Feedback is greatly appreciated!

Much love~

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Good morning, sugarplum!

Sorry, I couldn’t be there when you woke up this morning. Duty calls. I’ll be back later tonight! I hope you have a good day! Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do! <3

Your Casanova,

Gabriel

Why do some people wake up with an already negative attitude? A multitude of factors could be the cause; relationship issues, low self-esteem, stress, unhealthy thoughts, and lack of sleep are just a handful of possibilities. Some have their reasonings read out to them by a licensed professional they pay an arm and a leg to visit every couple of weeks, while others lack the funds and/or the proper motivation to cope, so they bottle it up inside, casting it away to the darkest depths of their mind for weeks, maybe months. They ignore the feelings they get, the troubles that stalk them, until the bottle inside of them fills to the brim. It shakes and stirs, begging for release. It spills out, slowly at first, but then the pressure becomes too much to handle, and it combusts.

And (Y/N) felt like he was about to explode.

Nothing looked right. His jawline wasn’t sharp enough, his curves were more pronounced than ever, his binder didn’t make him flat enough, he was too short, the hair on his face was barely considered peach fuzz at that point, and his eyes - yes, his eyes - screamed femininity. Screamed female. Screamed everything about you is wrong. Screamed;

You are not a man, and you never will be.

It wasn’t often that his gender dysphoria acted out as bad as it had that day. Sure, there were times when he woke up and the negative thoughts just never seemed to go away. The thoughts that made certain parts of him look wrong, misplaced. Rarely had his mind told him that everything about him was wrong. Rarely did his mind tell him he wasn’t the man he wanted to be. But, when those thoughts arose, they hit him hard, as if he got struck by a semi-truck going eighty on the interstate. It hollowed him out and made him a shell of his former self. A shell that was slowly wilting away.

His brothers were the first to notice his shift in demeanor. While he normally came into the kitchen every morning with a goofy grin on his face, a smile was nowhere to be seen. His head was cast down and he barely spoke a word to either Sam or Dean. Another thing they noticed was the lack of exposed skin he had. Usually, (Y/N) would walk out of his room clad in a t-shirt and shorts in the morning. That day, he wore a hoodie, sweatpants, and socks. The temperature in the bunker hadn’t changed, so it wouldn’t make sense that he was cold. If he had been, he would have complained about it for the rest of the day, yet he didn’t say a word. Instead, he silently got some coffee and sat down with his brothers at the table. He didn’t engage in conversation.

Later on, the three of them sat in the library, heads buried in books and computer screens. They would typically sit around, and talk about potential hunts or random information that they had found. (Y/N) acted the same way he did when he was in the kitchen, though. He was physically present, but nowhere near as mentally present. His head was down, the cord from his earbuds wrapped around his phone, which was sitting next to the book he had been reading. It didn’t even seem as if he was actively reading the text. It had been ten minutes since he turned the page.

Sam leaned closer to Dean, who sat next to him. “Does he seem off to you?” He asked in a low, quiet voice.

Dean looked up from his computer and glanced over at his youngest brother. He hesitated, studying him for a moment before he nodded. “Yeah, something’s wrong with him. Has he said anything?”

Sam shook his head. “No.”

“Do you think it has something to do with Gabriel?”

“I don’t know. Maybe?”

Dean pursed his lips for a moment before he turned back to (Y/N). He leaned over and tapped him lightly on the shoulder. (Y/N) lifted his head to look at his brother and, for the first time that whole morning, their eyes connected. Dean noticed something almost immediately. His eyes were empty, void of any emotion. (Y/N) took an earbud out.

“Yeah?” He asked, voice low and monotone.

“Hey, man, you doing okay?”

(Y/N) looked away for a moment. “Yeah?” He shook his head and shrugged. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You just seem a bit off today.”

“I’m fine.”

“Did something happen with Gabriel?” Sam asked.

“No? I said I’m fine.”

“Ok, well, obviously you’re not,” Dean said. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing!” (Y/N) spoke in an exasperated tone.

“(Y/N),” Sam leaned forward, palms flat on the wooden surface. “If something’s wrong, you know you can tell us, right?”

“Nothing’s wrong! Will you two stop fucking bugging me!?” He exclaimed.

(Y/N) slammed his book shut and shoved it away from him. Quickly, he stood, stuffed his hands into the pocket of his hoodie, and stormed out of the library. Sam and Dean’s eyes were attached to him until he was out of sight. Dean and Sam shot a glance at one another, both of them opening their mouths as if to say something, but decided against it before they went back to their work.

(Y/N) was numb, aside from the small annoyance that had bubbled up inside of him from his brothers’ persistence. One common trait that was distributed through all the Winchester siblings was the lack of willingness to talk about their emotions. It was an ideology that was beaten into them when they were younger and first got into hunting. Bury your emotions deep within, don’t let them show, and don’t let your enemy know your weakness. Hell, don’t let your allies know your weaknesses, either. They’ll turn their back on you if they see you at your lowest. Stay strong, hide your feelings, and don’t let anyone in, even if it’s family.

When he made it back to his room, he walked over to the small dresser that was pressed along the far wall. Beside the dresser sat his tennis shoes. He grabbed them and put them on. He walked back over to the dresser, opened up the top drawer, and rummaged around in his undergarments for a moment before he fished out a pack of Marlboro Reds. The box was slightly creased, the plastic rustling in his grasp. It had been a while since he had a cigarette. He hadn’t felt the need for them, but he could feel the stress and anxiety grumble inside of him. He needed something to clear his mind. (Y/N) placed the carton into his hoodie pocket and left his room.

As he made his way past the library archway, he was stopped by his brother’s voice.

“Where’re you going?” Dean piped up.

(Y/N) stopped in his tracks and turned towards them. “Out.”

“Out where?” Sam asked.

“Look, I’m just going to take a walk around the bunker, that’s all. Going to clear my head.”

Dean and Sam shared a look. “You sure?” Dean asked.

“Yeah,” (Y/N) shrugged. “Just need a breather is all.”

“Alright, well…don’t go wandering too far.”

“I won’t.” (Y/N) shared a small smile.

Sam and Dean returned the smile as (Y/N) turned his back on his brothers and headed up the staircase toward the front door.

The afternoon sun slithered past the canopy of oak tree branches. Orange, red, and yellow leaves shined bright, painting the dirt floor like a kaleidoscope. About half a mile from the bunker, a dead tree had fallen during a heavy thunderstorm several years prior. The trunk has since been embedded in the ground, forming a natural bench in the middle of the forest. This was where (Y/N) had gone to clear his head.

He sat at the edge of the log, back slouched, elbows resting against his knees, and hands hung limply between his legs. The smoke from his lit cig wafted upward towards the treetops. The end of the cigarette slowly withered away, a small amount of ash falling upon the autumn leaves. His eyes were cast down and glazed over, the thoughts in his mind running at a hundred miles an hour.

You’re delusional. A man? No one would ever consider you a man. You look nothing like a man. Nothing like what you want to, and you never will. You’ll always look like the girl you were born as. You’ll always be (D/N), and there is nothing you can do about it. Sam, Dean, Gabriel? They’re all lying to you. They’re feeding into your delusion because they feel bad for you. They don’t love you or support you. They’ll never see you as a man. Never have and never will.

(Y/N) lowered his head as he brought the cigarette up to his lips. He inhaled deeply, feeling the burn of the smoke filling his lungs, before he brought the cig away from his mouth. He tapped the end of the cig, the ash falling onto the ground. As he shifted, the sleeves of his hoodie lifted, the remnants of depressive episodes from his past peeking out through the cotton fabric. His eyes shifted to the discolored scars. He could remember how he felt when he first made the scars. The relaxation he felt afterward, the relief. It was a distraction from the pain he felt within. It was a distraction that he desperately craved.

For a moment, he looked at the end of the cigarette. It was slowly dwindling to half its original length. He shifted it in his fingers and brought it to his wrist, stopping right before the end of the butt touched his skin. He hesitated and contemplated. (Y/N) closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and moved the cig closer to his arm.

“Hey Sugarplum,” the voice came out of nowhere.

(Y/N) let out a startled shout, the cigarette fell to the ground as he turned toward the sound of the voice. Sitting beside him on the log was Gabriel, his signature smirk etched onto his lips. (Y/N) sighed and leaned down, grabbed the butt, brought it to his lips, and took a final drag. He then lifted his foot and put the cig out on the bottom of his shoe before he flicked the remnants onto the ground. He placed his hand on the log and exhaled, the smoke leaving his lungs and creating a halo around his head.

“A little birdie or two told me you went on a walk. The little birdie also told me you weren’t feeling the best.” Gabriel said as he reached an arm around (Y/N)’s shoulders.

(Y/N) could feel himself instantly relax at Gabriel’s touch, the tension leaving his shoulders. So much was going through his head. So many emotions beating at his heart, begging to be released, begging to be expressed. Yet something was stopping them.

“I’m fine,” (Y/N) said, his voice soft.

The smirk was gone from Gabriel’s face, his expression turned more serious. He inched closer to (Y/N) so that their sides were pressing against one another. He pulled him close.

“You know that’s not true,” Gabriel whispered. He pressed his nose against (Y/N)’s cheek. He ran his fingers through his hair softly and soothingly. “I can hear everything going on in your pretty little head, sugar, and I know that it’s not quiet.”

Gabriel’s closeness was comforting, something that he had been craving all day. The longer Gabriel sat next to him, the more relaxed he felt, yet the demons were still scratching at the inner crevices of his mind. With the mixed feelings he experienced, it was all so overwhelming. (Y/N) recognized the familiar prickle of tears appearing in the corner of his eyes.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Gabriel breathed as he wrapped his arms around (Y/N)’s body, pulling him as close as he could, his head resting on Gabriel’s chest.

(Y/N) sniffled as he allowed the tears to fall, something that didn’t happen very often. Something he would, normally, not let himself do. Be vulnerable. Vulnerability is what gets you killed in the hunting career, and there was no time for that. Still, the warm feeling of Gabriel’s arms wrapped around him made him feel at home, made him feel safe, and told him that it was okay to let himself go.

Gabriel rubbed (Y/N)’s back. “Do you want to tell me what’s bothering you?” He asked quietly.

(Y/N) hesitated for a moment as he clasped his hands together. He rubbed the back of his knuckles, a soothing gesture he learned from a young age. “I don’t…” he trailed and let out a sigh, shoulders slouched. “I don’t look like a man.”

“What?” Gabriel furrowed his brows.

“I don’t look like a man, okay!?” (Y/N) exclaimed and moved away from Gabriel, standing abruptly. “I mean, look at me! I’m so short and feminine! Look at my hips! Look at my face! Everything about me is wrong. Everything about me isn’t what it’s supposed to be and it’s killing me.” (Y/N)’s voice got louder, frustration evident in his tone.

The tears were freefalling, and (Y/N) did not attempt to wipe them away. Gabriel simply stared up at him, listening, a saddened expression making its way across his face.

“Do you have any idea what it’s like to wake up and look at yourself in the mirror and see nothing but a body that you hate? A body that you don’t want to be in? That you feel like you don’t belong in? It feels like my life is a lie, that I’ve just been kidding myself when I said that I could finally be the man that I always wanted to be. Everything that you or Sam or Dean have said about me, validating my emotions, supporting me through everything, was just some pathetic pity party in an attempt to make me feel better about myself, even though, deep down, I know I’m not going to look anything like I want to. I’m not going to be the man that I’ve always dreamt I’d be because I’m stuck. I’m stuck in this worthless body that I was forced to have and I can’t do anything about it. I want…”

The tears were coming faster now, his words becoming shaky, almost unintelligible.

“I want to be happy…but I look at myself and I just can’t.”

Gabriel stood and walked over to him. “(Y/N), look at me,” he reached down and cupped (Y/N)’s wet cheeks, lifting his head so that he could gaze into his reddening eyes. He used his thumbs to wipe the tears away. “Do you want to know what I see when I look at you?” He had a smile on his face.

(Y/N) sniffled. “What?”

“I see a handsome, strong, brave man who risks his life daily for the people that he loves. I see a man with a heart of gold, who would do anything to make other people happy. I see the most handsome man on the face of this planet, the most wonderful man that my father had ever created. More importantly, I see your soul.”

“My soul?”

“Yes, your soul. I see how bright, beautiful, magnificent, and glorious it is. How perfect it is. The man you truly are.”

(Y/N) looked down at the ground. He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Gabriel’s middle. Gabriel wrapped his arms around him, running his fingers through his hair.

“I know it’s hard some days. You look at yourself and don’t like what you see. You feel like there’s nothing you can do to change it. That people aren’t going to see you for who you are. I hate to break it to you, sugarplum, but that’s all I see.” He chuckled deeply. “All I can see is the man you are. The man you were meant to be. And some days are going to be harder than others, you're going to beat yourself up more than you should, and that’s okay. Because, in the end, you’ll get through this. You’ll gain your confidence back. You’ll see yourself and finally say ‘This is me’, and I am going to be with you every step of the way.”

Gabriel leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to the top of (Y/N)’s forehead.

“Because I love you. Every part of you. The parts that you like and the parts that you don’t like. I love it even more when you’re happy with yourself. When you love yourself. And even if I pop in one day and you’re dressed as an Oompa Loompa with a five-foot-tall bright green and yellow mohawk and a beard the size of Gandolf’s, then I would still love you.”

(Y/N) snorted and let out a short laugh. “You’re ridiculous.” (Y/N) shook his head. “An Oompa Loompa?”

“Hey, it’s not my place to judge if or when you decide to dress up as an Oompa Loompa.”

(Y/N) rolled his eyes, a smile curled into the corner of his lips. Gabriel brushed his wet cheek with his thumb.

“Feeling better?” He asked softly.

“Yeah, a little.”

“Good, I’m glad. And I’m proud of you.”

(Y/N) furrowed his brows and glanced up at Gabriel. “For what?”

“For telling me how you feel. If I know anything about you Winchesters, I know that that wasn’t easy.”

“It wasn’t. But…it felt good.”

Gabriel nodded. He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss against (Y/N)’s lips. When he pulled back, he stared lovingly into his eyes.

“You’re my person, (Y/N). The person that I love and care for, and if you ever feel like this again, just give me a shout and I’ll be there faster than you can get my name out of your mouth. I never want you to be alone when you feel like this. You don’t deserve to be alone through this. Promise me that you’ll call me next time you feel like this?” Gabriel’s hands trailed down from his face to his arms and stopped to grab his wrists gently. He rubbed them softly through the sleeves.

(Y/N) opened his mouth and hesitated. “I can’t promise, but I’ll try.”

“That’s all I needed to hear,” Gabriel smirked and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. “Now, do you want to go back to the bunker? We can cuddle on your bed, and watch some of those terrible reality TV shows. I think I have a bit of an addiction to 90-Day-Fiance.”

(Y/N) smiled. “Do you mind if we sit out here for a little bit? It’s a beautiful day out and…I’m not quite ready to go back inside yet.”

“Of course, anything for my sugarplum,” he leaned forward, his nose brushing gently against (Y/N)’s.

“Thank you,” (Y/N) whispered. “I love you. I don’t deserve you.”

“Oh, but that’s where you’re wrong. You deserve the world and every beautiful thing in it.”

“I don’t want the world. All I want is you.”

“Then have me you shall. Forever and always.”

“Forever and always?” (Y/N) lifted a hand, his pinkie finger sticking out.

Gabriel smirked and chuckled. He lifted a hand, hooked his pinkie onto (Y/N)’s, and looked deeply into his eyes.

“Forever and always.”

My Dearest (Y/N),

I’m writing this, not as one of my regular notes, but as a reminder to you. I want you to pack this away somewhere safe where you can take it out and read it whenever you feel down about yourself in any way.

You are strong. You are brave. You are handsome. You are perfect. You are loved. You are you.

I know it’s hard to see yourself in a positive light at the moment, and everything may seem like it’s closing in as if nothing is going right and it will never get fixed, but, just know, you’ll make it through this. Just like you’ve done on multiple hunts, you will prevail. You will conquer the enemy, even if that enemy is yourself.

Remember, you don’t have to fight this battle alone. I’m here for you, and so is Sam and Dean. We all love you so much and we want you to be happy! We love seeing your smile when you walk into a room. You brighten our day just by being you, and nothing will ever change that.

If you need anything, anything at all, just think of me, and I will be there for you. We can watch your favorite movie and I’ll even bring you some of those little dessert cakes you like from the cafe I took you to on our first date. Even if you don’t want to talk to me about it, I want you to know that you don’t have to suffer in silence. Not while I’m around. I’ll always be by your side, no matter what you go through.

I love you,

Forever and always,

Your Casanova,

Gabriel

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