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faexoxoxoxo · 3 months

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My Love Mine All Mine...

Pairing : Alpha!Gojo Satoru x fem!Omega reader

Warning : 18+, breeding kink,...

Alpha! Satoru who always laughed at the idea of soulmates and destined lovers, considered himself too free-spirited to ever get saddled down with such a domestic way of life.

Alpha! Satoru who's famously known for leaving a trail of broken hearts in his wake, "not my fault they get attached..." Was the response he'd give whenever asked about the way he treated the woman who fell for him.

Alpha! Satoru who gets annoyed every time the clan elders force him to attend the yearly moon festival, where unmated members of different clans would gather in hopes of finding their mate, a tradition he has no interest in, but regardless is made to partake in every year.

Alpha! Satoru who stands in a corner alone trying to avoid all the desperate omegas who usually swarm towards him, each attempting to convince him they were meant to be his mate.

Alpha! Satoru who feels his whole body tense up when he catches a whiff of an intoxicating smell in the air, one that causes the logical part of his brain to shut down as a more predatory side of him surfaces.

Alpha! Satoru whose eyes frantically searches the area as he makes his way around the large room, shoving and passing the people in his way, heart pounding furiously in his chest while he tries to pinpoint the location of the scent.

Alpha! Satoru who gets a rush of excitement when he finally finds the source of the delectable aroma, you.

Alpha! Satoru who approaches slowly, scanning you from head to toe, taking in every little detail.

Alpha! Satoru who knows you're his mate, the other half of his soul, he doesn't know what to feel, never having wanted this, yet can't bring himself to turn away from you as the surge of desire to claim you on the spot washes over him.

Alpha! Satoru who lets out a low warning growl, as he sees you take a step back, standing behind your friends, his eyes narrowed as if to say, "Don't even think about running away from me." Striding forward, his presence was enough for your friends to back down, giving you an apologetic look before leaving you alone with Satoru.

Alpha! Satoru who noticed the change in your scent, how it went from sweet to sour, making him regret how aggressively he behaved. The last thing he ever wanted was to spook his little mate away. "No need to be afraid, princess," he attempted to ease your worries. "Promise I won't bite, unless you want me to..." he adds playfully, hoping to make you see he wasn't a threat.

Alpha! Satoru who sighs in relief when you nod, accepting his apology, a soft smile on your face as you agree to let him court you. "You won't regret this, princess !" He grinned, pulling you close and nuzzling into the crook of your neck.

Alpha! Satoru who goes above and beyond to prove he's the perfect mate for you, pulling out all the stops by sending you flowers and presents, taking you on little dates whenever he's free, and showering you with affection. His gentle attitude towards you, shocking everyone who'd known the old him. No one could've imagined a day would come when the Gojo Satoru would behave like a lovesick teenager.

Alpha! Satoru whose love for you, grows deeper and deeper with each passing day, and with it, so does his possessiveness. Every once in a while, his instincts scream at him to rip out the throats of anyone other than him who gets close to you.

Alpha! Satoru who gets even more clingy when your heat approaches, finding it harder to keep his hands to himself, especially when you smell so damn good, it's like you're begging him to fuck his pups into you.

Alpha! Satoru who forgets all restraint the moment he gets a call from you begging for him to come home as your heat started earlier than expected, "please...please...please alpha need you in me so bad it h..hurts..." The words had him racing back home, business could wait, right now; he needed to be balls deep inside his precious mate.

Alpha! Satoru who walked into your bedroom and saw you, curled into the sheets, humping a pillow, trying to get some relief, but the moment you see him, you'd abandoned that instead getting up to pull him into your nest.

Alpha! Satoru who planned to take it nice and slow knowing this was your first time ever having cock inside you, but before he could get to prepping your virgin cunt, you'd unbuckled his belt, taking out his throbbing shaft, and slipped him inside your sopping pussy, but then bursting into tears at the feeling of getting stretched out, droplets of blood staining his cock.

Alpha! Satoru who hushes you, "Told you not to be impatient, princess...see what happens when you don't listen to daddy...It's okay, I got you..." he takes over, flipping you on your back, his hands working around your body, trailing kisses down your neck to distract you from the pain as he's slowly rocking back and forth, trying to get you used to the feeling of his cock.

Alpha! Satoru who loses himself to the sensation of your tight warm hole sucking him in, the feeling of his tip bullying your sweet spot with his rough thrusts, making you moan, once pain now turned to pleasure, your hips moving up to meet his, legs wrapped around his waist as your fingers dug into his back, drawing blood, earning a grunt from Satoru, who loved it whenever you played a little rough with him.

Alpha! Satoru who's lost count of how many times he had you creaming around his cock, not planning on stopping until he's given you every last drop of his cum in his balls, the image of you swollen heavy with his pups making him pound into you with a ruthless pace, watching the mixture of your juice and his seed dribbling on to the bed.

Alpha! Satoru who doesn't pull out even after you're both done, "good girl...gotta keep daddy's load inside to make sure it takes..." he coos, wrapping his arms around your exhausted frame as you drift into sleep, his fingers rubbing your swollen cum filled tummy, silently promising to forever keep you and your future pups safe...

A/N - it's 3am and I'm done lol not sure how well i worded all the words but it was my first time writing for gojo so hope everyone who reads enjoys this !

Thinking of maybe writing something something for geto soon soooo stay tuned...

Vampire Suguru fic

Likes, comments and reblogs are very appreciated <3

#fae.xoxo #jjk gojo #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru smut #gojo x reader #gojo saturo #gojo x you #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x you #yandere #gojo satoru headcanons #alpha x omega #a/b/o #a/b/o dynamics #a/b/o verse

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sweet-as-an-angel · 1 year

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Hiiii, I loveeeee ur work ❤️

I was thinking about a head cannon of how some of the mw2 characters (ghost, soap, König, etc) would react to their partner sending them a nude photo?👀👀👀

Sorry if you did this already but I’m pretty sure you haven’t tho cuz I definitely would have read it already 😭

MW2 Reaction to Receiving a Special™ Photo from Their S/O

Warnings: 18+ (just to be safe), Non-Specific/Explicit Implications of Smut, No Pronouns used for Reader except 'You', Singular Mention of Graves Throwing Himself off a Cliff, Dominant! MW2, Submissive! MW2, Dominant! Reader, Submissive! Reader, Profanity, etc.

Ghost

He will literally stare bug-eyed at the picture you’ve sent him like 👁️O👁️

Since it’s a physical photograph, he keeps it on him like a chapstick, which is to say all the time.

He isn’t risking ANYONE besides himself seeing it.

And when he’s about to embark on a mission, he keeps it tucked into his vest right where his heart is so that it’s practically part of him.

He likes to think that, somehow, you can hear – feel – his heart beating, know that he’s still alive and fighting so that he can come home and see you.

And when he returns from a mission and goes to his quarters, he has some…alone time.

You know, to really study the picture.

Not that he doesn’t know every curve and edge of your body already.

But that doesn't stop him growling your name into the pillow as he rocks against it, a hole cut into the bottom of it – a poor imitation of you.

A makeshift lover.

If anyone ends up seeing that picture – if they stole it from him, if by some act of God (because that’s what it’ll take) it slipped out of his vest or pocket – they are in for a World of Pain™.

There won’t be a time they won’t flinch upon hearing Ghost’s name, or when they see his shadow like an omen on the wall as he commandeers the halls. Prowling.

He’d feel pretty guilty about someone else seeing you how he does, even if it was only for a fraction of a second.

So he’s definitely going to make it up to you when he gets back <3

König

His heart can’t take this kind of torment.

He’ll be looking down at his phone, the image of you burning into his skin like a holy artefact.

He definitely gets more jumpy around people when he has his phone on him.

Will literally clam up and shove it into the deepest recesses of his pocket if someone comes too close.

Even when your picture is safely stored behind a password-protected photo album.

He has to excuse himself from training or other commitments whenever his mind wanders back to you, and subsequently that image (which is basically all the time).

Sometimes he calls you while he’s sorting himself out.

He just needs to hear your voice – to feel closer to you.

It’s the only way he can finish.

“Engel,” he rasps, his breath stuttering, “I need you,”

And everyone just looks at him like he’s grown a third eye when he returns because, unbeknownst to him, König can’t keep quiet, and everyone who has never heard even a peep from him is suddenly aware of the carnality that lies beneath his skin, wired into his soul.

And at the centre is his love for you, boundless and overflowing so that the rest of his teammates know it, too.

Not that they mind all too much.

They all sit and think that you must be one beautiful person to evoke such a response from König.

Soap

Will tease you back.

Sends a mirror pic of him in a tight black shirt, saying something like ‘You’ll see the rest when I get home.’

Is absolutely ravenous when it comes to you.

No cap, goes absolutely ham in the shower when the image of you in nothing flashes in his mind.

His low moans are enough of a warning for the rest of the 141 to stay away for the next half an hour or so.

Aside from that, he’ll just look at the picture because he finds you beautiful.

Stares at it while he’s in bed. Laments on how much he misses you ☹️.

He’s counting down the days until he can see you again, and with each that passes, he can feel your silhouette becoming tangible in his hands, as if you were stepping out of the photo.

Sometimes, he dreams that you’re there with him, nestled between his arms.

Other times the dreams are a little more…graphic.

But Johnny can’t help it.

He just can’t contain himself when it comes to you.

Valeria

If you thought her violent tendencies could never extend to you, prepare to be amazed.

The second this woman sees what you’re trying to do – or, rather, what she thinks you’re trying to do – she is not happy.

You could have sent that image with the purest (within reason) of intentions; just letting Valeria know that you miss her, wishing her a good day – whatever.

What she sees is you trying to manipulate her by using your body as an instrument of destruction.

Dramatic, yes. But Valeria has never been one to take chances.

She’ll be deceptively calm over text: ‘Don’t tease me, Darling. You know what happens when you do.’

All day, all she can see is that image.

Whenever she turns a corner, you’re there; whenever she’s talking to someone, you’re peering at her over their shoulder; when she’s alone, you’re sat with her – on her – trying to take her attention away from her paperwork.

Redemption is a baseless concept when Valeria returns home that evening.

You will not know rest until she’s done with you.

Price

“Fuckin’ Hell, Love,” he’ll say, the darkness hanging on his voice tangible even through the voice note.

“What’ve you been up to while I’ve been away, hmm ?”

Will not rest until he knows he’s got you hot and bothered.

This entails him sending increasingly risqué images of himself; first, just one of him flexing, his arms thick and crawling with veins.

The next is of his shirt raised just below his chest, the dim light of the room keeping enough of him shrouded that his identity is unknown to all but you, his wide silhouette taking up most of the picture.

And, if you decide to be resilient against his attempts to make you feel as you have him, you’ll receive a series of menacing messages.

‘Don’t get too comfortable, Angel’, he’ll say.

‘You never know when I’ll come through that door–’

He grins as he sees you’ve read his message, hanging on his every word.

‘And ravage you.’

And you know he means it, too.

Meanwhile, he’s multitasking; keeping a clear, professional head and giving orders while resisting the primal urge to drop everything and find you.

And no amount of pleading or tears will spare you from his wrath when he returns.

Horangi

Regardless of how well the military life trained his self-discipline, nothing can dampen the sheer need Horangi feels whenever he receives a special picture from you.

I’m talking: he will literally sit in silence for ten minutes because he’s got a raging issue he needs to take care of but can’t risk anyone else seeing it.

Will thunder down the hall to the nearest bathroom when the meeting’s over and take out his frustrations there.

When he calls, you’d better pick up the first time.

If you don’t, you’ll have Hell to pay when gets home.

“Baby,” he breathes down the phone, the fog already making his mind frost over, his body burning up.

“What have you done to me–”

These brief encounters are the only thing keeping him sane while he’s away; they make him feel closer to you.

And, repaying you in kind, he returns one night, in the silence of the moon hours.

He finds you, pulls you to him, clutching on tight as you begin to wake.

And, between delirium and consciousness, his voice is all you can hear.

“Shouldn’t have tested me, Sweetheart,” he says, whispering as though partaking in a secret.

“Now I’m going to have to challenge you.” His arms are snakes as they constrict you.

“Fall asleep before I’m done with you, and I promise there will be no end to your suffering.”

Alejandro

Teasing a man as passionate as Alejandro is not going to end well for everyone involved.

Expect to receive a barrage of very choice texts back.

‘You have no idea what you’re doing to me’, he’ll say, followed by a photo of the tent in his trousers.

And a sinister: ‘But you will’.

If he’s away on business for even just a few days, he’ll go practically feral whenever he sees that picture of you.

To everyone else, he’ll be the leader Alejandro Vargas they all know him as – ruthless and righteous.

Yet, there’s something different in the way he walks as he excuses himself from the table, his destination unknown.

His gaze is narrowed and his teeth are grinding, rabid in disposition.

And when he gets home, no matter how long of a day it’s been, you’re in for a very long night.

He’ll appear behind you, a spectre, clamping a hand down on your shoulder.

“You shouldn’t test a soldier, Love,” he says, his grip tightening.

You don't turn around, an exhilarating fear keeping you frozen.

He leans down, his mouth just at your ear, his breath hot.

“Because you never know when he’ll snap.”

Rodolfo

This man is usually rather quiet and submissive when it comes to the more personal aspects of your life together.

But when you send him a picture that makes him question how long he can keep his composure for, you’re in trouble.

You’ll be receiving a phone call from a very exasperated Rodolfo, who, despite his best efforts, has succumbed to your charm.

Definitely a growler when he’s in a dominant mood.

More of a whimperer when he’s not.

At times like these, you get both.

“Darling,” he breathes, the back of his head pressed against the cold cubicle wall. “Look what you’ve done to me…”

His whining is more than enough to let you know the effect you’ve had on him.

And it’s what he says next that makes your blood run cold.

“I won’t let you get away with this.”

The husking baritone in his voice tells you he’s being truthful.

And if you try to clap back with something witty, or even an apology, Rodolfo just laughs.

“The time for mercy is long past, mi Amor,” he tells you.

“All you can do now is prepare for the Reckoning.”

Graves

This smug idiot.

Definitely smirks to himself when he gets that picture.

Has to resist the urge to show it off to everyone in the boardroom because he’s just that proud to have you as his partner.

Yes, he is hard. Yes, he’s still going to give this presentation in front of all the major shareholders.

Why ?

Because he’s Graves. Also, because he knows he has more money than everyone else in that room, and, consequently, more power.

Will shoot you back a text like: ‘Mighty fine work, Babydoll’, followed by, ‘You’re getting a promotion when I get home.’

Yes, he uses corporate jargon when discussing intimate matters.

He’s a businessman at heart, he can’t help it.

Definitely more playful than most of the others on this list.

The type to take his time with you and make you laugh while he does so.

But when he wants to be rough (and when you want him to be), he can be.

And he gets mean when he’s like that.

I’m talking hair-pulling, name-calling – basically just bullying you, but consensually.

Does his best to take care of you, though.

If he found out that he’d actually upset you, he’d literally jump off a cliff – he wouldn't be able to forgive himself.

Expect many lavish gifts if this happens, though.

But don’t tell him that I told you that 👀.

Gaz

Will nearly drop his phone – it turns to butter in his hands.

He looks over his shoulder at least fifty times before he’ll allow himself to look at the photo again.

Poor boy’s face is turning red, his palms are sweating, he can’t think straight.

Paranoid 24/7 that everyone knows he has that picture of you.

But it doesn’t intimidate him enough for him to even try to keep quiet in the barracks when he has some alone time.

Similar situation to Soap; everyone knows to steer clear of whichever room Gaz was last spotted walking into for a while.

It would take him a few days for him to send a picture back.

More than likely, it’ll be of him in a scarcely lit bathroom in nothing but his boxers with a very prominent outline in them.

Followed by a text with something to the effect of: ‘Been thinking about you all night, Sweets’

And God forbid you send him another image of yourself. And definitely do not send a message saying ‘Aww, has my good boy been behaving himself ?’

Will literally send him over the edge.

The rest of the 141 can’t commandeer the bathroom for the rest of the day after that.

And when Gaz gets home, just know that your phone screen can’t protect you anymore.

Not when you have a man made of pure intellect and solid mass running full-force at you with all the pent-up energy seen only in a nuclear reactor.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist

AO3 Wattpad

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snaileer · 9 months

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Practice Your Skills

“You ever look at someone and wonder how hard it would be to get past their defenses and stab them?”

Damian snapped his head to the side, looking at the young boy now standing beside him.

The boy put his hands up in front of him with a wince, “Not that I ever do that. Totally not, whaaaat???”

Damian huffed and turned back around to watch the gala participants.

“It’s just you kinda looked like you were contemplating the logistics of stabbing Mrs.Halterguild for squeezing your cheeks.”

Damian scowled. Then, after a moment’s beat, “It would not be very difficult. She is nearly blind in her left eye, I would be able to approach without repost.”

The kid hummed, turning back as well before motioning to another group to the far right, “What about Mr. Beckensmith, he’s a retired vet right?”

Damian rolled his eyes and scowled harder, “The man has only seen the battlefield of an office as he bribed his way from being fully enlisted and instead managed to pay for increasingly higher ranks and medals. He is a disgrace.”

The kid cocked his head to the side, looking suspicious for a second and then nodding with concession, “Fair enough, I bet I could get close enough too.”

Damian scoffed.

“What, don’t believe me?”

Damian leveled a doubtful glare at the civilian, making it clear by looking him up and down, “Hardly.”

The other smirked dangerously, “If I can get close enough to poke him and get away without being noticed, will you believe me?”

Damian narrowed his eyes but nodded succinctly and watched as the boy immediately took off, making a few loops around other people before finally backing up to Mr. Beckensmith and poking him on the opposite side as a group moved past.

Damian pursed his lips. Interesting. Certainly better than he would expect from an amateur. And an amateur civilian at that.

When the boy returns to his side Damian brushes off the asks of meaningless praise.

“Come on, I did it, now you have to go poke Mrs. Halterguild without getting caught.”

Damian sneers, “And why would I do that?”

“Because I don’t believe you either, the woman’s old but I bet she sees you and squeezes your cheeks again. Old ladies just have a sixth sense for that stuff you know.”

Damian nearly growls but sets off on his task. He makes sure to stay on her left side, but the woman turns at the last second, forcing Damian to use a passing waiter as cover to remain hidden and finally get close enough to poke her gaudy dress.

Then he sidles back up to the boy on the edges and provides his best ‘I am more capable than you’ scowl. The boy simply laughs and says, “Who’s next?”

They spend the night like that, choosing each other’s targets to attack non-lethally as though they were attempting to stab them, and Damian finds the gala going by in a significantly less tedious manner.

Right up until the boy laughs at him when he chooses a target. Only one bark of laughter escapes, but it is enough for Damian to consider stabbing him as well. If only with a butter knife.

Instead, Damian grinds his teeth and asks, “What is so different about Masters, do you really believe you would be unable to succeed?”

The other gives a breathless chuckle, “I’m pretty sure even you wouldn’t be able to successfully stab Vlad Masters,” The boy’s shoulders sag even as his jaw tightens with irritation, “He sees everything.”

Damian narrows his eyes. Something naws at the back of his brain but currently the critique of his capabilities takes precedence.

“I would be capable of stabbing Masters even without my favored sword,” Damian scowls and stands taller with annoyance.

“Sure you can, man,” At this, the boy quirks a sharp smile, “If you can actually get him, I’ll personally get you a magic sword,” he says with an air of amused indulgence. Like he thinks Damian is some insipid child saying he will find a fairy.

Damian grits his teeth and shakes the other’s hand, then immediately sets off after his target. How dare this civilian question him! He is the Son of the Bat, this is not even a challenge!

Damian growls as his approach is thwarted for the third time by the man turning in his direction and almost spotting him. How dare he! He will not fail!

Just as he reaches to jab the man in the side, already poised to make his escape, Masters whips around and clamps his fingers around Damian’s wrist with a vice grip.

“Really Daniel I thought we were over-“ Masters pauses, looking at Damian critically as he glares at the man’s offending hand, “You are not young Daniel.”

“Remove your hand from my person at once,” Damian growls.

Instead of listening to Damian’s very sensible directions, Masters tightens his grip and twists his arm, most likely in an attempt to hurt him.

“Now why is a child attempting to-“

Damian doesn’t wait to hear the rest of the man’s words, sliding a dagger into his other hand and swinging towards him, until that hand is caught mid-movement as well.

“Heh-Hey there!”

Damian snaps his head to the side just in time to see Grayson take his dagger and slide it into his pocket. He ignores the bark of laughter he hears from across the room.

Masters’ hand disappears from his arm suspiciously fast, “Mr. Wayne, what a pleasure!”

Damian looks over his other shoulder to see his father standing behind him, a thin smile on his face, “Vladimir!”

His father’s figure quickly obscures his vision, putting an arm over Masters’ shoulders in a way that clearly makes him irritated but forces him to follow as he is steered away.

“Dami, I thought we talked about the stabbing at formal events,” Grayson says through a strained smile as he looks over the crowd to make sure no else saw.

“Tt, it was merely a demonstration of my skills, he was in no real danger until he refused to release me. I simply sought to correct that mistake.”

Grayson pinchesthe bridge of his nose, “Demonstration for who, Dames? We all already know your skills.”

“Tt,” Damian scowls and turns away.

Instead of pushing it, Grayson simply sighs heavily, “Just stay out of trouble for the rest of the gala okay? We’re almost done.”

Damian scoffed and waited for Grayson to leave. Once he does, Damian finally looks over to where he had been lingering with the boy.

Gone.

Clearly he’d taken the cowards way out when he’d seen that Damian had been accosted by Masters.

Pitiful.

Damian spends the rest of the night scowling from the wall and looking serendipitously for a head of black hair and blue eyes unrelated to him.

Of course it’s not until they are actively leaving that Damian sees him and immediately splits off of from his family.

He approaches with irritation, preparing to grab the other by the shoulder when suddenly he turns around and blue eyes meet Damian’s green.

“You,” Damian sneers.

“Me,” The other shrugs. He has an amused smile on his face, though it’s strained at the edges.

They stare in silence for a minute, before the other’s smile grows and sharpens once more, “I didn’t expect you to actually try to stab him, y’know,” A slight laugh escapes him, “Not that it was unwelcome by any means, but still, unexpected.”

Damian scowls again, glaring at this foolish civilian.

“Oh, I never introduced myself did I?!”

The boy exclaims and holds out a hand, smile dangerous, “Daniel Fenton. Or if we’re being technical,” a pause as Damian finally returns the gesture and finds his hand trapped, “Daniel Masters, a pleasure to meet you Damian.”

“Hurry up little badger,” A voice says beside them, and Damian notices that it is indeed Vladimir Masters.

The man approaches, placing a heavy hand on Fenton’s shoulder, making the boy go taut, and then they both step into a dark car, leaving Damian on the front steps.

Damian’s anger flares and he shoots a glare directly to the boy getting into the car. It dies the moment they meet eyes and Damian sees the fear hiding in the other’s eyes.

Fear that Damian is all too familiar with.

Fear that reminded Damian of himself. Reminded him of his own eyes when he’d been under his grandfather.

But why did Fenton look like that?

#batman #danny phantom #batfam #dc #batman and robin #danny fenton #young justice #danny phantom crossover #bruce wayne #tim drake #dick grayson #Damian wayne #Damian Al ghul #dp x dc #dpxdc #Jason Todd #red hood #Nightwing #Robin

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a-hazbin-reader · 2 months

Note

I've seen you mention that alastor would make little deer bleats in a few fics, do you have anything for the reader hearing him bleat for the first time, like reader said something flirty that caught him off guard or while petting his ears, alastor would definitely be the time to be like "what ever are you talking about dear, you're hearing things" and try to change the subject out of embarrassment

- 🐞

I LOVE IT

Alastor X Reader Headcanons

✅️Romantic

❌️Platonic

TW: Suggestive, Explicit s e x towards the end

Description: ☝️⬆️

Alastor makes deer noises, usually when he's pissed off or exerting some of his power

It's a very emotional and unintentional thing, something he normally can't help or hide

Usually, you can hear buck grunts, warning calls, though elk bugle sounds dominate most of the other noises he makes

You didn't even know he was capable of making softer sounds until you found out by accident

The two of you were alone, sharing a romantic moment with you in his lap and his hands caressing your body

You had pulled away from the kiss to catch your breath when his twitching ears suddenly got your attention

Not that Alastor minded, keeping his mouth busy with your neck and shoulder instead

As if you could ever pass up the opportunity to touch those fluffy ears...

You couldn't help but scratch and rub his furry ears, leaning into kiss one while giving it a playful nip

Only to be surprised by the soft bleat that escapes from Alastor and the way his entire body goes stiff out of embarrassment

"Alastor, did you just-"

"Would you look at the time?! I must go, darling! Things to do, people to see!"

Leaves you on the floor, on your back, and in shock

You try to bring it up to him later but that doesn't work-

"Alastor, about that sound you made..."

"Hm? Oh! I merely had to clear my throat! Not to worry, darling! It won't happen again."

"But I want it to."

👀

It becomes a game between you two, well...more of a game for you, Alastor has never been so nervous in his fucking life

You're on a mission to hear that adorable noise again by any means possible

He's eating breakfast?? You're leaning over him and kissing along his neck while pouring him tea

Which doesn't work, he just tilts his head and gives you a contented growl before continuing with his meal

He's taking a small break? Eyes closed and relaxed? You try going for his ears again, massaging them

That doesn't work either, instead he gives you a warm smile and pulls you down to lay with him

You try flirting with him, maybe you can say something sultry and catch him so off guard he makes that sound again?

Instead, you just get yourself into trouble because instead of something small and subtle you just drop a fucking bomb instead

You corner him and pin him to the wall, mustering up every bit of courage and control to push forward

"Do you believe dreams can come true? Because I dream of you cumming inside me."

WHAT THE FUCK Y/N WHO TAUGHT YOU THAT PICK UP LINE

Angel

Oh that makes sense

It doesn't work, instead Alastor gets a predatory look on his face and he's pulling you closer to him

"Luckily for you, my dear~ I happen to have a soft spot for dreamers such as yourself~"

Oh fuck

It actually does end up working in your favor, just not the way you thought it would

You don't even remember how you end up naked on your back, legs spread to accommodate Alastor between them

Both of you are close, having been at it for hours at this point, desperate ragged sounds coming from the two of you

Your nails are digging into his back, no doubt leaving nasty marks that he'll later tease you for

He has one clawed hand on your hip while the other grips and makes deep grooves into the headboard

You're nearly out of it, mind fizzy and hot with the feeling of being so full of Alastor's cock that you almost miss your chance

You know exactly how to get that sound out of him

Suddenly, your legs lock around him and you're tugging him down to you to give him a desperate steamy kiss

He's caught off guard and startled but eagerly reciprocates your actions, chasing a building orgasm between you both

He pulls away to growl and pant, head rolling back as his thrusts become sharp and erratic

You tug him back to you by his hair and suddenly give him a watery smile, barely able to hold on because you're so close

"A-Alastor...haa...I love you...~"

And that's what does it, his eyes widen in surprise as he suddenly releases inside you, letting out a pathetic sounding bleat

He's so mortified afterwards, burying his face in your chest as you comb your fingers through his hair. Both of you shuddering and trying to catch your breaths

"You...you are an evil evil person..."

You can't help but laugh and kiss his head, scratching around his antlers affectionately

"I love you too, Alastor~ Every part of you~"

This one got away from me...it's probably not what you asked for but... I hope you like it!!

#hazbin hotel x reader #alastor hazbin hotel x reader #alastor hazbin x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin x reader

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touyasdoll · 8 months

Text

Revered

pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x f!reader

word count: 1k

warnings: sex with feelings, alcohol, you've both been drinking, friends to lovers, he comes across a little possessive, dacryphilia if you squint, body worship, unprotected sex, let me know if I missed any ❤️

“Do your ears work, princess? Can you hear that?” He sneers, breath tickling the crook of your neck before he pushes himself up, biceps flexing beautifully as he looms over you.

He’s undoubtedly referring to the lewd, loud sounds manifesting between the two of you. It's absolutely intoxicating, just like his touch. You're already tipsy, but now you are drunk on what this man is doing to you.

“This is what pussy is supposed to sound like when you’re getting fucked.”

You aren't quite sure how you ended up here. With Katsuki fucking Bakugou of all people plunging his cock in and out of you while you cling to his strong arms for dear life.

You blame it on the alcohol. That's the only excuse you can think of to explain why he drew closer to you on the couch, hands and lips exploring places that your dear friend had never ventured to touch before.

Why the glasses you were sipping out of landed on the coffee tabe and he somehow wound up on top of you, his searing kiss stealing the very air from your lungs. Why your clothes lay discarded and you're now laid bare for him, limbs tangled up as sweat collects on both of your brows as your bodies move in tandem, seeking sweet, sweet pleasure.

"That pathetic excuse of a man you called a boyfriend never made you feel like this, did he?" He asks as he grabs your jaw, his touch still so gentle, even as his tone grows more desperate. "Did he?"

"Never," you reply, breathless and barely able to form the words as you lose yourself in the delirium.

Katsuki was definitely more imposing than the man who'd dumped you. He'd stood you up for the last time and it was Katsuki who'd come to comfort you, joining you in your libations as you drowned your sorrows over a man who was never worth your time to begin with.

"That's what I fucking thought," he says as a handsome smirk spreads across his face.

His expression is almost devious. It's dark and full of salascious promise as his strokes grow longer. Slower. Deeper.

It feels as if he's nearly penetrating your lungs the way that head of his cock drags against your pulsating walls and knocks against your cervix, kissing it with each pass of his hips, never giving you the chance to truly breathe as his body drives into yours with immense purpose. Like he has something to prove.

Because he does.

He's watched and he's waited. Too many men have come along and broken your heart. Used your body and never taken proper care of your heart, but that's over now.

As he peers down at your perfect form, he makes a promise to himself and to you. His hands glide along your body, worshipping every curve and dip. His mouth travels along your neck, your breasts, your jaw before they claim your mouth again.

It's heated, though that could just be the booze. It must be, you tell yourself, but no one has ever kissed you like this before. Like they mean it. Like they need it to survive. Like they need you.

"You are never going to be left wanting again, beautiful. I won't let it happen," he breathes out, his lips moving against yours before they swallow you whole again.

Your tongues tangle and you kiss him back despite how your lungs burn and your body tenses, pulled taut like the strings of an instrument that he has spent years mastering and he's performing a fucking symphony right now. To a crowd that only consists of you.

"You deserve to be pleasured. Treasured. Fucking revered," he growls through grit teeth, picking up the pace with his strokes as his hands works into your hair, cradling you with care like the prize he obviously thinks that you are.

"Katsuki," you gasp, a frantic energy swelling inside of you as the song he's crafting swells to a triumphant crescendo. "I-I'm gonna cum."

"Yes you are. You're going to cum all over my fucking cock. Like you should've been doing all this time. You are mine now. No one elses," he pants, sweat dripping from his face onto your breasts to glide down your torso. "I finally have you and I'm not letting you go. I've got you, gorgeous. Cum for me."

You hear his words, but they're drowned out by the sound of someone screaming. Of you, screaming. Howling with unrestrained need as the dam bursts and you break for him, gushing around his thick cock as it keeps on plunging in and out, nearly driving you mad.

"Katsuki!" You cry, literally, as tears prick your eyes, a warm wetness sliding over your cheeks when your eyes squeeze shut and you cling tighter to him, digging your nails into the fibers of his muscles.

"Fuck," he groans, a guttural noise echoing around your living room as his hot seed spills from him and into you, making the slick mess between your thighs a practical crime sense of passion and pure need.

His hips keep moving, drawing out the sinful noises the both of you trade as your respective highs peak and gradually begin to fade away, leaving you a weak, shaking mess beneath him.

"I love you," he confesses with the last of the oxygen in his lungs, his nose nuzzling against the crook of you neck as he lays his body on top of yours.

It's all encompassing. His presence. His words. His devotion. It feels like a safety blanket, bundling you up in all the things that you were searching for all along when it was right here in front of you the whole time.

"I love you too, Katsuki," you whisper the words you'd left unspoken for far too long against his temple.

He smiles against your skin. He's wrung dry after offering everything up to you, but your words renew him, giving him the strength to push up and ghost his fingertips along your cheek as his crimson eyes bore into your own.

"You will never want again. I'll take care of you from now on," he promises, catching your chin between his thumb and forefinger as he draws you in to another kiss.

This one is slow, sweet, and tender. It's a vow that he will never break.

#bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #mha x reader #bnha x reader #bakugou smut #bakugo smut

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milla-frenchy · 22 days

Text

7 AM

0k8 | Joel Miller x fem reader | ao3 Summary: Joel fucks you by the window, some guy watches you Warnings: 18+ mdni. Exhibitionism, rough sex, dirty talk, piv, creampie. Mention of somnophilia. Reader’s hair can be pulled. No age specified, no outbreak a/n: same couple: 5 days collection, but can be read alone @aurorawritestoescape thank you for beta reading 💕🫶 Gif in the mood board by @pedropascalsx 🙏 series masterlist | Masterlist

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

The sun's rays woke you up early, too early for a Sunday. You contemplated going back to sleep, before glancing at Joel. He was snoring softly, lying on his stomach, one leg slightly bent, his face turned towards you. You looked over him, from his tousled curls to his bare back. His arm was hugging the pillow, the sheets were tangled just below his ass. He’d gone out with friends the night before, and had fallen asleep wearing his gray sweatpants.

It was one of the rare nights when he didn’t fuck you before you two went to bed or while you were asleep.

You smiled looking at him and decided to let him rest. You got up and left the bedroom, closing the door behind you. After making yourself some coffee you went to the living room. It was bathed in light. You walked to the window and saw a few people who were already jogging outside. You put your coffee on the windowsill, waiting for it to cool off.

You felt Joel behind you before you heard him, right before he placed his hands on your hips.

“What are you doin’ here, sweetheart?” he asked, his mustache brushing against your ear.

He pressed his crotch against you before you even had time to respond. His morning wood found its place against the crease of your ass, leaving you breathless.

“Mmm?”, he insisted, leaning more against you.

“I…didn’t wanna wake you up.”

“Is that right?”

You felt him pull down his sweatpants, just below his balls. His hard cock sprang free towards the ceiling before he slid it between your thighs with a firm hand on his shaft. He pushed your panties to the side, and grabbed your breasts under his large t-shirt.

“Mmmm…you smell like me”, he murmured.

“Joel…people could see us.”

“Yeah? Shoulda think about it earlier, sweetheart.”

He pressed on your back to bend you further towards the window, and nestled his cock at your entrance. You held your breath. You always loved it when he fucked you without preparation, whether with his fingers or his tongue. The painful second when he thrust in always gave way to long minutes of pleasure when you forgot about everything, except for his shaft ruining your pussy.

When he pushed in, you let out a soft “fuck” biting your lip.

“Yeah, take it, just like that. Good girl.”

He bottomed out, growling, his hands tight on your hips and his gaze down on your ass.

“Shit, this pussy’s barely wet. Poor baby...must be harsh to take this big cock without me spreading you first.”

His pace was slow, but so powerful, that your forehead hit the window each time his cock sank between your folds. He grabbed your hair when you didn’t respond, pulling your head back.

“So cockdumb, when I fuck you raw like that. That’s what you wanted, when you woke up?”

He kissed your neck before nibbling on it, pulling you back against his chest. His hand left your hair to grab a breast and he picked up the pace, thrusting in faster. Then he bent you forward again, making your forehead hit the window, one hand firmly gripping your shoulder for leverage. A jogger passing the house glanced up at your window and slowed down when he saw you.

“Joel!!”

But he neither stopped nor slowed down. He pressed down on the back of your neck, holding you against the window, chasing his orgasm. The stranger was almost walking at that point, watching you two. You slipped your hand into your panties, desperately twirling your clit under your finger.

“Fuck…you’re gonna get off while some guy’s watching you being pounded? Oh, baby…didn’t know you were such a bad girl.”

You couldn’t help but look at the man, now standing in front of the house. There was a smile on your face when the orgasm hit you, your pussy clenching on Joel’s cock. He stopped, buried deep inside your core as his cum spurted over your walls. His eyes were fixed on the man, still watching you.

“Damn it, Joel…”

Once your pussy stopped milking his cock, he grabbed your arm and pulled you towards him, tucking his member back into his sweatpants with the other hand.

“What are you doing?”

“You’re gonna ride my face, right now, in bed. And this time you're gonna cum without looking at a damn stranger. Bet he’s gonna jack off when he’ll get home, thinking about this pussy he can’t have.”

You looked out the window one last time. The man readjusted himself before continuing his run.

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

Same couple: 5 days collection

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

Thank you for reading 🙏

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated ❤️

Follow @millafics and turn notifications on for fics updates

@pascalsanctuary @littlemisspascal @survivingandenduring

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firelilyfox · 1 month

Text

Deadly Eyes

Dune: Paul Atreides x female reader

Warnings: se&ual harassment / angst / curses / hateful words / comfort

If someone means harm to the girl he loves, Paul won't hesitate

Words: 1k

_______________________________

You stare at the men and women right in front of you. All of them were looking at you with the same emotions pictured in their faces. Disgust. Outrage.

Today was the first day after Paul announced your relationship to his people. The Fremen welcomed you with open arms… well some of them at least. Your roots lies with none of the big houses. All you know about your family is, that they were travelers who never lived at the same place for more than a couple of years. You are one of the Lost Ones. But when Paul rescued you from being tortured by the brutal Harkonen a couple months ago, you never thought about traveling somewhere else again. Your people always praised that the soul is a free from wich never settles and never find the one and only home. Paul changed your way of thinking. With him you felt at home for the first time ever.

„The Mahdi can’t be with someone who is lost“, one of the believers growled as you were passing by. All you wanted to do was taking a walk and exploring the hallways of the Sietch, one of the rocky formations what the Fremen call their home. And now you are standing in front of a hand full of believers who are talking bad about you.

A old, wrinkly woman hisses. „You don’t belong here, Lost One.“

You look at her fully blue eyes. The same color your eyes have turned as an outcome to the effects of spice everywhere. „Please let me through. I don’t wish for trouble.“

Now a young man steps right in front of you. Too close to be comfortable with. You try to move and bring some distance between the two of you, but your back almost immediately hits the wall. Your chest tightens up. This feels like a cage. A cage of people who hate you.

„But you are trouble, whore.“ He couldn’t have been more than five years older than you, but he was so intimidating that you wanted to flee before he would hurt you. You still are one of the Lost Ones. Their are no fighters. Your people staying alive because they run for dear life when problems appear. That’s why the Fremen always looked down on your kind.

„All your people do, is stealing and living in the shadows. You are not worthy to be here. Your are not worthy to be with Muad’Dib“, he grabbed your neck with a tight grib. „But I’ll find some use for u, don’t you worry.“

The others looked away while he is dragging you to a shallow corner at the end of the hallway. Your screams got muffled by his greasy hand and silent tears filled your eyes. The back of your head hit the wall hard and your vision flickers for a moment. Fear crawling all over your body, followed by the tip of his knife. You’re trying to beg for him to stop, but all he does is giggling at your helplessness.

„I will show you your worth and after that I will give your body to the desert. I will…“

A voice is shouting at the near distance. „Where is she?!“ The man fearlessly let’s go of you and hiding his knife. You fall down on your knees as Paul rushes around the corner. Gentle hands pulling you up and you begin to sob, hiding your face at his chest.

„How dare you to touch her!“ Paul growls at the man who is now lowering his head in respect for his Duke.

„I did not want to bring any disrespect to you, Mahdi. But this woman damages you reputation. She is not worthy to be …“ but Paul cuts him off.

„She is equal to me. I am who I am today, because of her. How dare you to speak about her like that?“ His voice became dangerously silent and you could feel under your palms how tense his muscles were. As you look around you discover that people have stopped and watching the scene with wide eyes.

You reach up to gently touch his cheek, so Paul would look at you. „I’m okay, Paul. Nothing happened. I’m unharmed.“

For a moment the coldness in his eyes vanished, but as he looked down at your neck and saw the bruises … he was ready to kill someone. Paul kisses your forehead and it feels like that he needed to do it just to calm himself down, before he would actually cut a throat. His grip around your waist thightens but not in a hurtful way. You never felt more protected as right here in is arms.

Paul turns his head slowly. A deadly look on his face. The man kneeled down in fear of his punishment. „I will only say this once and for all. Who ever touches this woman and mean harm to her, will be sentenced to death. Without exceptions.“ He looks around, making eye contact with everyone who is watching. „Spread the word. I will personally kill everyone no matter if man or woman.“

The Fremen quickly leaving the place murmuring and chattering. The message was clear. If you break this rule, death by Muad’Dip will find you.

„And for you“, Paul looked down at the man who tried to do unspeakable things to you. His voice full of dark rage. „If you ever come near her again or look at her even from afar, I’ll break your neck.“ He gave two other men a sign to carry him away.

„I should have known that something like that might would happen“, Paul curses. „I’m so sorry. I should have never left you go alone.“ His eyes meet yours and the deep sorrow in them breaks your heart a little.

„You couldn’t ever have guessed that. This isn’t your fault and it’s not your job to see something like that before it happens.“

Paul pulls you closer now that the two of you are alone. „But is is my job to protect you.“

„And you did.“

He leans his forehead against yours, taking a deep breath. His body is still tense but his touch is so gently. „I don’t want to imagine what could’ve happened if I weren’t be here on time … I couldn’t…“ his voice breaks. This is the side of him no one ever sees. The softness and the vulnerability. To everyone he is the fearless Muad’Dib. But to you he is Paul Atreides. The man who owns your heart.

„Then don’t. You saved me. I am right here.“ To prove your point you get on your tiptoes and kiss him softly. Paul cups your face with his hands, holding you so close to him that nothing would have room in between.

_____________________________________________

Thank you for reading! Comments, ideas & reposts are very welcome <3

#dune movie #dune part two #dune part one #paul atredies x reader #paul atreides #paul atreides x you #paul atreides x reader #paul muad'dib #timothée chalamet #comforting #soft touch #paul atreides imagine #paul atreides kissing #protective paul atreides #protective boyfriend

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rowarn · 2 months

Text

HYBRID!AU PART 2

part one | part two | part three (coming soon!!!)

(: anyway here's what you've all been begging for. a part 2 but it was getting so long...almost 3k words. and so....there will be a part 3.......but for now i hope this satiates you!!!

cw: hurt/comfort, aftermath of hurt???, self-deprecating thoughts, insecurities, mentions of blood and scratching, mentions of past mistreatment, petnames and headpats tho <3

The next time a human approaches you, you’re unable to stop the growls that escape your throat when you hear the pspsp as he tries to approach you. When you hiss, the man scoffs and stomps away muttering a soft ‘stupid cat’ under his breath.

No one approached you for a long while after that. The only way you knew how much time had passed was when the restaurants all threw their leftover food from their workdays. Eating out of the trash was always utterly humiliating, especially when you got caught.

Most people ignored you when they saw you sitting on the sidewalk, getting some sun since it didn’t shine into the little alleyway you hunkered in. Some people would scoff and give you disgusted looks, as if you were a stain on their shoe.

At this point, you were used to humans acting like you were scum of the Earth. After your experience with Simon, human’s behavior towards you no longer surprises you. Though it hurt, you didn’t understand why you were so unlovable.

But then one evening, when the sun was just beginning to set and the temperature was steadily dropping, you were huddled up in what little bit of sun-warmth you could get until it became dark. Your arms were wrapped around your body as you shivered, trying to ignore the way your tummy growled from being empty – the store employees had chased you off before you could steal anything from the dumpster.

A large shadow cast over you and when you looked up, you saw a slender, athletic man. His presence immediately set you on edge and you felt a growl bubbling up in your chest.

“Hey now,” he chided softly, pretty brown eyes crinkled as he squatted in front of you, “None of that, little kitty.”

You scowled up at him. Even crouched down the way he was, he was larger than you.

“Do you have a name?” he asks kindly.

You pause at that. Soap had given you a name. But did it really count as one if your previous owner hadn’t even agreed to it? Still, it was the only thing you really had left of your former companion.

You softly mutter the name you’d been given and the man nods before holding out his large hand, “Kyle. Would you like to come home with me?”

That sends off alarm bells in your head and before you know it, your claws are ripping into his hand and you’re scurrying into the alleyway to cower in the corner.

You hear the man faintly sigh before he stands, knees cracking as he does. You don’t hear anything from him for a few minutes before his heavy boots walk past the alleyway and fade.

You don’t even understand your own reaction. Of course you wanted a home to call your own. But you don’t think you would be able to handle it if he turned out to be the same as Simon. You wouldn’t be able to get attached to a human only to be abandoned on the streets like you were last night's trash. Perhaps it was just easier to reject all human companionship than risk being heartbroken all over again. You had only recently stopped crying yourself to sleep over the memory of your home.

You think that will be the last time you see the man, surely he wouldn’t want anything to do with a cat-hybrid who was mean, but just a couple days later, he’s back. He stands beside you, one bandaged hand gripping a shopping bag. You feel a pang of guilt at the sight of his bandaged wound. He slowly places it beside you, staring at you expectantly.

“This is for you,” he says awkwardly after a second of you staring blankly at him, “It’s some food and water.”

Your stomach growls at the mention of food and as much as you want to peek in the bag, you can’t bring yourself to admit defeat like that. He might think you’re accepting him as your owner if you accept his gift!

But you’re not! You refuse to end up hurt and sad like you had been with Simon! You would rather just live on the street than go through that hurt all over again. You couldn’t stand to give your trust only to be betrayed and mistreated again.

You only wanted someone to love you but apparently that wasn’t in the deck for you and that was okay, you told yourself. No matter how much it hurts to admit.

The man, Kyle, sighs softly when you simply ignore him, the sound almost melancholy. It makes your heart ache in your chest. He casts you one last glance but you keep your gaze down before he walks away, disappearing out of sight at the end of the street.

With his piercing gaze off of you, you turn to the bag and begin rooting inside it.

A couple bottles of water and some hybrid-safe packaged food. Nothing that needed refrigeration but also much better quality and variety than what you had been given by Simon.

You remember how it felt to watch Soap eat delicious meats and fruits and veggies while you got bland, colorless slop. Sure, it was healthy for hybrids but everyone knew it was disgusting. Clearly Simon didn’t care – he was just feeding you so you didn’t inconvenience him by starving to death in his house.

And though Soap would sometimes share his food with you, it wasn’t the same.

This food was yours. Kyle had gotten it for you.

You pull out one of the packages, a neatly wrapped sandwich with all the organic ingredients listed in bright colors. It makes your heart ache just a little bit as you take your first bite, all alone on the sidewalk, quietly wishing Soap was there for you to share it with as payment for all the food he had shared with you.

Kyle makes it a habit to visit you day after day, sometimes bringing food, sometimes just bringing himself. Most of the time, you ignore him but he doesn’t seem deterred in the slightest, only quietly promising to visit you again soon when he bids you goodbye.

It starts to become lonely when he leaves.

You don’t know when it begins, but you find yourself waiting for him. You sit out in the open, mindlessly combing your tail, where he can see you if he approaches. You find yourself thinking about him and if he’ll bring something for you to snack on – he found these delicious fish flavored chips that you were practically addicted to. Though, you didn’t say anything about your liking of them, he kept bringing them so you think he knows.

Some days, Kyle’s visits were quick and fleeting and other times he sat there for a while. He had given up trying to talk to you much since you made it a point to ignore him but you were happy that he hadn’t given up yet.

You know you would have given up by now. But the fact he persists leaves you with a warm, soft feeling in your chest. You’ve never had someone try so hard for you before, Simon certainly never cared to try.

Kyle wasn’t so bad after all, you found yourself deciding. He was quiet but not standoffish. He didn’t try to touch you after you had swiped at him one time when he went to pat your head. He was kind, always complimenting you with ‘pretty kitty’ and ‘sweet kitty’. And best of all, he didn’t ignore your existence like you had grown used to when living with Simon.

Waiting for Kyle to show up became the most grueling part of your day. Minutes felt like hours and any tall man who passed by had you perking up to see if it was Kyle. The urge to get closer to him grew day by day, you wanted him to pet you, you wanted to talk to him.

Maybe living with him wouldn’t be so bad after all. Just the thought of a happy life made you purr to yourself.

You vowed that you would talk to him today, maybe see if you could take him up on that offer he had made that first day you met.

But he never came. As the sun dips behind the horizon, you find your hopes getting squashed. He always came before dark.

With a heavy heart, you curled up in the little cardboard box you had been calling your shelter. It was easy to tell yourself that the ache in your heart was because you wanted to see him and not because you were scared he had given up on you.

The next day, the same thing. You waited all day only for him to not show up. Then the next day. And the next.

A week passed with no sign of him and you tried your best to pretend like it didn’t hurt like hell.

Maybe he really had gotten sick of waiting for you and decided to find a hybrid who would actually talk to him. You couldn’t blame him, you suppose. But it still made that heavy pain settle in your heart like when you had been thrown out by Simon.

One morning, you were awoken by a loud voice shouting down the alleyway, “Alright, come on out, cat.”

The sound of the voice had you sitting up, eyes wide as you looked around. At the entrance, a man stood with his hands on his hips, a hefty utility belt around his waist.

He sighed when he saw you staring blankly at him before he came over, hoisting you up by the arm.

Your growled and hissed, ears pinned back as you fought against his grip. He dragged you out, taking you towards a big black van that had the words ‘hybrid-control’ printed on the side.

You swiped at the man with your free hand, sharp nails slicing into his skin. He cried out in pain but didn’t relent in his hold.

“Stupid fucking cat,” he snapped, “Fuckin’ hate havin’ to pick shits like you up.”

“Excuse me,” a sudden, frantic voice called out, “What are you doing?”

The man holding you turned to look at Kyle, an annoyed look on his face, “Got a complaint about a stray hybrid livin’ around here. Came to pick it up.”

“Oh that’s not necessary,” Kyle said, reaching out to pull you from the man’s grasp, handling you much softer than the stranger, “This hybrid is mine.”

The man looked like he wanted to argue but glanced down at his bleeding arm and rolled his eyes, “Whatever, man. Your funeral. Just get it off the street.”

When the van drove off, Kyle turned to look at you apologetically, “Sorry, I didn’t want to claim ownership over you like that but–”

“Where were you this week?” you find yourself pouting, crossing your arms over your chest petulantly.

Kyle looks shocked before he smiles kindly, “I was away for work. I’m sorry I didn’t come to see you.”

Your pout only deepens, “It’s not like I missed you or anything…”

“Of course not,” he laughs but you both know he doesn’t believe you, “How about I show you my home, hm? It’s not too far from here.”

You agree without complaint, letting Kyle lead the way down the busy streets until it grows quieter and quieter.

The neighborhood is startlingly familiar as he escorts you to his home. It doesn’t take long for you to realize it’s the same neighborhood Simon and Soap live in.

You weren’t exactly sure how far their home was but you couldn’t stop yourself from frowning at the memories.

“What’s the matter?” he asked, “Don’t like it? I know it’s a little boring here but it’s near the base so what can you do?”

“It’s not that,” you quickly said, considering telling Kyle what was on your mind but you instead settled for, “I-It’s nothing.”

You were worried if you told him about your previous home, he might think there was something wrong with you. You didn’t want him to think you were undesirable and put you out on the streets all over again. You silently wondered when you became so insecure.

He hummed and opened the front door for you, “There’s a room at the end of the hall that’s an office right now but it’s all yours once I get it set up with a bed and everything.”

“My own room?” you ask softly, fluffy ears perked up.

“Of course,” he smiles, “This is your home now.”

You feel tears prick your eyes but you quickly look away before Kyle can see them. It felt so nice that he actually considered it your home too and not just his. Simon always made you feel like you were barely welcome and only there because he put up with you until he couldn’t stand you anymore.

“Oh before I forget,” he said, grabbing a box off of the table, “I got you this.”

He showed you the contents, a cute, dainty collar with a metal tag in the shape of a fish with your name engraved on it.

“Why do you have a collar?” you asked, tilting your chin up so he could fasten it around your neck.

“I had hopes that you would let me take you home one of these days,” he laughed, a boyish, kind sound that made a smile grow on your own face, “I wasn’t going to give up until you were safe and sound with me, love. I knew this was going to be your home one way or another.”

You spend the whole day wandering around the house and exploring, nudging against every surface to spread your scent on it. You hadn’t done that much in Simon’s house, too scared you’d get reprimanded for dirtying up the furniture or something.

But Kyle didn’t care in the slightest. He simply smiled when he saw you nuzzling the pillows. He even trimmed your nails so they weren’t nearly as sharp anymore.

It was nice living with him.You quickly realized how different your life felt with Kyle than how it felt with Simon.

Kyle was kind and friendly, calling you by your name and petnames and not just ‘hey you’ or ‘cat’. The affection in his tone was palpable and just hearing how sweetly he spoke to you made you purr uncontrollably.

And he didn’t once raise his voice at you or chase you off the couch when you were napping. He gave you the softest pats on the head and let you snooze on his lap without a single complaint.

He never forgot to feed you and always gave you the most delicious things he could find. He ate at the table with you and told you all about his day, making an effort to talk to you and learn about the things you liked to do while he was at work.

You were happy to finally have a home to call your own. But deep down, you missed Soap. You missed his energetic happiness and how affectionate he was with you in a way that only hybrids could be. He was the only true companion you had ever had and he had left his mark on you. You wondered about him every day, especially when you heard the front door open and you half expected him to come running in with a thrilled grin on his face, ready to regale you with tales of outside.

You passed their house one day while on a walk with Kyle, something he took to doing as an activity with you (he didn’t want you to get bored or stagnant just sitting inside all day), trying your best to act like seeing the home you used to call your own didn’t make your heart ache painfully in your chest.

“There’s a hybrid that lives here, you might like him. His name’s Soap,” Kyle said when he saw you pausing in front of their home, “Owner is Simon Riley. I work with him, kind of a standoffish guy, you should probably steer clear if you run into him. He’s not the most friendly.”

“Yeah…” you found yourself mumbling, barely even registering anything Kyle had said, a frown etched on your lips before you looked at Kyle, “Can we go home?”

“Of course. Let’s get you some food, pretty kitty,” Kyle cooed affectionately, patting your head before leading you back home.

You casted a glance at the home you used to call your own, you were startled to see Soap standing in the window, eyes wide, brows furrowed, and hurt written all over his face. The sight alone made your own eyes sting. He had never looked at you like that before. He looked so heartbroken.

Kyle cooed softly to get your attention again, leading you down the sidewalk and away from the house. Soap’s figure in the window faded from view and you felt your head spinning.

Soap and Simon’s scent faded the further you got away from it. But once you entered your home with Kyle, your scent and his mixed together in a way that it never did with Simon’s. You couldn’t help but purr, the pain and anxiety in your heart fading.

But still, your mind lingered on the distraught face of the best friend you left behind.

do not modify or repost to third party sites. reblogs appreciated!

#gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle garrick x reader #kyle gaz x reader #cod x reader

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leaderwonim · 2 months

Text

✴︎ THE MONSTER’s GONE, HE’S ON THE RUN, AND YOUR BOYFRIEND’s HERE.

pairing. lee heeseung x fem!reader

genre. established relationship, zombie apocalypse au, ANGST, fluff then and there, high sch!au (they’re seniors), mentions of dying and being bitten

synopsis. when it comes down to it, will lee heeseung protect you like he had promised in the beginning of your relationship?

author’s note. This one is a long one and I lwk felt my heart being ripped apart as I finished the ending 🙁 the scene where he sings to her is based off of the scene from “Beautiful Boy” where Nick’s father sings to him. I kind of envisioned Y/n and Heeseung as Cheongsan and On-jo so do whatever you want with this information!

Lee Heeseung was the perfect boyfriend. He was athletic, tall, and most importantly of all, loving. He wasn’t afraid to show you how much he cared about your relationship.

Being the captain of the hockey team came with a lot of perks. For one, no one was able to yell at him for always giving oogly eyes at you during practice, and no one dared say a word when Heeseung would stop in the middle of his laps to talk to you.

“It’s pretty cold, isn’t it?” Ha Kyungmi, the girlfriend of your cousin and Heeseung’s friend, Sunghoon, perched herself right next to you in the stands.

“Heeseung gave me his jersey.”

Kyungmi smirks, letting her hands feel the material of the jersey you have on. “You lucky bitch!” She says, making you giggle. “Heeseung’s never lent someone his jersey before, that’s how you know he’s serious.”

“That’s good to know,” your eyes look back into the ice, seeing your boyfriend and Sunghoon competing to see who was the fastest.

“You hear that breakout that’s been happening in Busan?” Kyungmi digs in her sweater pockets, pulling out her phone. “It’s reaching Seoul. My mom told me about it yesterday.”

You read over the article that Kyungmi shows you on her phone, something about a deadly outbreak that’s been contaminating the people of Korea. It had started in Busan, and it was making its way to Seoul now.

“Hey!” The voice of your boyfriend makes you snap out of your daze. Heeseung makes his way towards you along with Sunghoon, pulling off their skates as they tossed it against the wall.

“You look pretty,” Heeseung leans in to give your cheek a sloppy kiss, one that has Sunghoon pretending to gag at. “What are you gagging at Hoon? As if that’s not you and your girlfriend all the time.”

Sunghoon raises his hand in mock surrender, interlocking his hand with Kyungmi. “It’s weird seeing you kiss my cousin dude!” He says. “We’re gonna go to the cafeteria if you guys want to meet us there later.”

You glance at your phone, realizing there was only 15 minutes of lunch left.

“Sure, we’ll meet you there man.” Heeseung gives Sunghoon a pat on the back before intertwining his hand with yours, pulling you closer to him despite already being in close proximity.”

“Were you cold?” He asks, concerned bambi eyes making you bite your lip.

“No I wasn’t Seungie.” You lean your head on his shoulder, his thumb rubbing your fingers as the two of you stayed in silence for a bit. “We should probably meet with Sunghoon and Kyungmi before lunch ends.”

“Yeah.” The two of you stand up, making your way out of the ice rink. Thankfully for your growling stomach, your school’s cafeteria was only a few meters away.

“There they are!” Kyungmi waves the two of you over, “I told you buying 2 extra sandwiches was a good idea!”

“Okay okay, sorry baby.” Sunghoon says. “Took you guys forever.”

“It was 5 minutes Hoon,” Heeseung rolls his eyes, thanking Kyungmi as she passed you two your sandwiches. “I really don’t want to go to Ms. Jung’s class. She’ll be the death of me.”

Suddenly, there’s a scream, one that is so horrid that it makes your boyfriend drop the glass cup of orange juice he was holding.

“What’s happening?!” Heeseung says, standing up immediately. He wraps his arm around your waist, eyes widening when he sees students panicking all around.

“Quick, Mr. Jeon’s class is nearby!” Sunghoon pulls the three of you towards a classroom. Inside was about 10 other students, whom of which looked like they were on high alert.

“Yah,” one of the guys said, suddenly standing up. You recognize him as Yoo Hanbin, one of your classmates from biology during your tenth year. “Are you guys bitten? Show us your neck and arms.”

“Bitten?” Heeseung scoffs, pulling you closer to him.

“They don’t know what’s happening Hanbin.” One of his friends says calmly. “They’re probably just scared like us. Close the door, hurry.”

Hanbin snarls, but he obliges. He ushers the four of you in, closing the door in a rush. He then places the teacher’s large wooden desk against it with the help of the other students.

“What’s going on?” Kyungmi asks, flinching when a sudden bang comes from the door.

“Quick! Move more desks!” Despite not knowing what the hell was happening, you helped Hanbin and the others place all the desks against Mr. Jeon’s room.

“There’s an apocalypse,” Hanbin’s friend answers after you all catch your breath. “Haruto.” He introduces himself after.

“Apocalypse?” Heeseung’s grip on your hand is suddenly tighter. “What? You mean like a zombie apocalypse Haruto?”

“I didn’t believe it either,” Hanbin slides his body down against the wall tiredly, lifting up his sleeves to show you his arm. “At first.”

It was bloody and looked like it hurt badly.

“I was in the piano room when it happened. Seolhee’s cries were all I could hear before I heard them. Their growls.” Hanbin shakes his head, looking down at the ground. “I tried saving her—but I couldn’t. One of them tried to bite me before I slashed them across the face with the piano chair. I ran so fast that I fell on the way to Mr. Jeon’s room, that’s where the cut came from.”

You can’t help but send the poor boy a look of pity, feeling overwhelmed by the sudden information.

“Is this about the outbreak?” Kyungmi suddenly speaks up. “The one we read about, remember Y/N? Is it the one from Busan causing all of this?”

Haruto solemnly nods, and that’s enough for you to let out a small cry.

Heeseung wraps his arms around you, letting you bury your head into his chest. “Sh, it’s alright.”

But it wasn’t.

You and Heeseung huddle up together against one of the corners of the room alongside Kyungmi and Sunghoon, trying to generate as much heat as possible.

With the whole city in ruins by now, you knew electricity would be gone soon, you just hoped it would be gone in the morning instead of night.

“We’re almost out of water.” Haruto says, getting up suddenly. One of the girls, who you recognize as Ryujin gets up with him.

If you weren’t stuck in a zombie apocalypse, you would’ve gushed over how much they complimented one another. Ryujin was the star tennis player who looked like she hated everybody, but the way she looks at Haruto showed that she more than tolerated him.

“You seriously aren’t thinking..?” Ryujin pulls Haruto back by his arm. “You can’t go by yourself to get water!”

“I’ll go with him.”

For all the years you’ve known Sunghoon, he’s never been as brave as he was now. You could tell Kyungmi was scared out of her mind, grabbing onto his hand as her lips quivered.

“It’s too dangerous! We’ll live without water for now!”

“Don’t be ridiculous baby,” Sunghoon gives her a comforting glance. “Me and Haruto will go, we’ll come back soon.”

“If he’s going, I’m going too.” The emotions Ha Kyungmi felt earlier now transferred to you. You shake your head, not letting Lee Heeseung’s hand fall from yours. “Y/N, please. Sunghoon’s my best friend, I have to.”

But I’m your girlfriend, you wanted to say.

As much as it hurt you, you knew you had to let Heeseung go. The risks were high, but you knew the rest of your classmates were thirsty to death and needed water as soon as possible. You couldn’t be selfish and beg your boyfriend to stay in front of all of them.

“Be safe.” You say, standing up to cup Heeseung’s face. “Please. Protect yourself first.”

He nods, wiping away the tears that escaped your eyes.

“Promise me, Heeseung.” You whisper.

“I promise.”

You let go of Heeseung reluctantly, watching as him, Sunghoon, and Haruto all slowly push aside the desks, opening the door as slowly as possible.

The growls were less prominent than they were a few hours earlier. You didn’t even want to look through the window to see how many zombies were downstairs at your school’s entrance.

As soon as they’re gone, a boy comes and sits himself right next to Kyungmi and you, giving a small smile.

“You okay Kyung?”

You find it weird how close he’s being with Kyungmi, and even weirder that he waited till Sunghoon had left.

“I’m fine Eunwoo,” Kyungmi replies, slouching against the wall. “Are you okay?”

You turn your head back around, not wanting to eavesdrop on your friend. You prayed and prayed that Heeseung would be kept safe when he was going to get water. You knew where the boys were going—Mrs Ahn’s room. She was the only teacher who kept giant packs of water bottles in her class for students who were thirsty. You hoped Mrs. Ahn was still alive.

“They’re going to Mrs. Ahn, aren’t they?” Ryujin asks, sitting herself next to you.

“They are.” You turn to make eye contact with her, surprised to see a purple bruise near her eye. “What happened to you?”

“Zombies.” She grins, although she knows it’s no time for jokes. “I only made a fuss earlier because Haruto was the one who saved me. Despite being quiet, he really knows how to fight off zombies.”

“Hey,” you get closer to her, almost whispering now. “What do you know about Eunwoo over there?”

Ryujin raises her eyebrows, placing her sight on Eunwoo who was talking to Kyungmi up close. “Has had a crush on Ha Kyungmi for over a year now. I see them sometimes.”

Your eyebrows furrow, not expecting such a response. Before you could say anything back, Heeseung and Haruto quickly rush into the room, slamming the desks back onto the door.

“Seungie?” You and Ryujin rush over to help them. They had 2 packs of waters in their hands, letting it drop on the ground along with their knees as they tried to catch their breath.

“I—I—” Heeseung seems choked up, his eyes teary and red. “I tried to help him—I really did.”

Your jaw practically drops knowing full well what Heeseung was implying. Park Sunghoon was nowhere to be found, not behind him, not behind Haruto.

“They came so quickly, we panicked and we just ran and I—” Haruto is unable to finish his sentence when you let out a scream, your body scumming to the floor.

“My cousin’s dead?” You sob out, clutching onto Heeseung’s bloody blazer when he comes down to hug you.

“I can’t believe it,” Kyungmi’s mouth goes dry and she turns over to hug Eunwoo, who rubs her back comfortingly.

You’re too distraught to even question why she was in another guy’s arms right after your cousin, her own boyfriend, just died.

“I’m sorry,” Heeseung repeats over and over again, letting you cry into his shoulder.

“It’s not your fault,” you sniffle. “Tell me he died a quick death. Tell me it wasn’t painful for him Hee.”

“He fell out the window,” Heeseung says, a few tears escape his eyes. “They backed us up into a wall and Sunghoon fell out an open window. We heard a loud slam and when we looked, he was already dead.”

You sob even louder, making Heeseung’s hold on you tighten.

When you finally catch your breath and pull away, you notice how Heeseung has scratches all over his face.

“Oh Seung,” you say, tracing your fingers over them. “It must really hurt.”

“It feels fine when I’m with you.”

The both of you lean against the cushion that’s propped against the bookshelf in Mr. Jeon’s room, your head laying against Heeseung’s shoulder as you both hold each other’s hands tightly. You felt like Heeseung would disappear if your grip loosened.

“Your lip,” Heeseung suddenly says, letting his index finger touch your lips, which were chapped and bleeding.

“It’s fine,” you brush him off, but he shakes his head, reaching into his pocket for something.

“Here, I have your chapstick.” He pulls out your strawberry flavored chapstick, the one that you always bought before the apocalypse had happened.

“Where’d you get this?” You breathe out.

“I always keep a spare one in my pockets because I know you,” Heeseung smiles down at his lap. “I knew it would come in handy.”

Your eyes softened at his words, one hand coming to hold his chin as you lean in to give him a long kiss.

“Thank you Seungie,” you say as you pulled away. “For everything.”

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

You suddenly jolt up from your sleep, face covered in cold sweat.

“Hey, hey, everything’s okay.” Heeseung whispers to you.

You take in your surroundings, making out Hanbin and Haruto’s figures guarding the doors and the rest of the students in the class asleep.

You had your head on Heeseung’s lap, your body sprawled along the cold tiled floor of Mr. Jeon’s class.

“How long have I been out?” You ask groggily, trying to squint at the dark clock on the wall.

“Just two hours.” Heeseung sighs. “The growling stopped for a bit. It’s eleven now. You should sleep more.”

You shake your head, disagreeing. “No Seung, you should sleep. I could watch over for a bit with Hanbin and Haruto.”

Heeseung bites his lip, almost as if he was really debating whether or not he should be sleeping right now.

“Seung, please. You need your energy.”

Heeseung agrees hesitantly, letting you switch places so now his head was on your lap.

“Goodnight Hee.” You say, placing a tender kiss on his forehead.

He smiles back at you, closing his eyes as he let sleep consume him.

Your eyes search around the room, focusing on Kyungmi and Eunwoo sleeping on one another.

Before you were too distraught to care about them two, but now that everything was calm, you really took in the situation.

Ryujin’s words rang in your ear like a mantra. Eunwoo liked Kyungmi for over a year now.

Does that mean.. ?

No, it couldn’t. You knew Ha Kyungmi. She was a sweet girl to you for the most part, she wouldn’t do that to your cousin.

Would she?

“They’re here.” You hear Hanbin whispering. His voice was filled with dread and fear, and your worst suspicions were true.

The zombies had reached your classroom.

“EVERYBODY! UP!” Haruto yells, clumsily turning on the small light that was still working in the room. “WE HAVE TO MOVE! QUICK!”

Heeseung wakes up with a grunt, his arms automatically reaching for your waist as if it was a natural reflex.

“They’re here?” He asks, squinting a bit at the bright light.

“Yes, let’s wake the others.”

You two start tapping your classmates awake.

“There’s a window we can climb out of.” Hanbin points at the window that was half covered by the cushion you and Heeseung had laid on earlier. “It’s not a big drop so we’ll survive it. It’s our only escape.”

Your classmates all start talking at once, some unsure of Hanbin’s plan.

“We don’t have much time!” Ryujin exclaims. “Quick! Climb out!”

A few of your classmates help each other get out of the window carefully, cheering silently when it works successfully.

“I don’t know how much longer I’ll be able to hold them off.” Haruto says, the desks being pushed out by the bangs of the zombies on the door.

“Kyungmi! Let’s go!” Eunwoo grabs the girl’s hand, pulling her towards the window.

“Eunwoo—but—Y/N?!” She turns to face you, who was currently helping the boys hold the door against the zombies. “Y/N!”

“Just go Kyungmi!” You yell, watching as Eunwoo helps her get out first.

“We’re going to have to let go and make a swift run for it,” Hanbin says to the three of you. “A broken arm or leg will be better than dying at the hands of these creatures.”

Haruto closes his eyes, nodding slowly at his friend’s words. “On a count of three.”

“One.”

“Two.”

“Three!”

The four of you let go, the zombies automatically piling into the room as soon as you do.

Haruto and Hanbin are quick, climbing out and jumping onto the ground in a swift second.

“Cmon Heeseung! Y/N!”

Heeseung climbs out first, foot barely making it out the window before one of the zombies have got you.

“Y/N!” He screams, hands gripping onto the window as he tries to reach for you.

“Heeseung! It’s not worth it!” Kyungmi shouts, “they’ve already got her, she’s gonna die anyway, it’s not worth it.”

Heeseung’s vision goes red at this. “I don’t fucking care Kyungmi! Unlike you, I actually love my girlfriend to death and would do anything for her!”

His words have her cowering in embarrassment, Eunwoo wrapping a protective arm around her.

“Yah you fucker!” Eunwoo yells. “You want to be with your girlfriend so badly? Then die!”

He and Kyungmi run off to find shelter, the only two who were left were Hanbin and Haruto.

They were silently begging Heeseung to drop it with their eyes, telling them that it wasn’t worth it.

“Cmon Heeseung man,” Haruto says croakily. “You’ll die.”

“Then I’ll die with her.” Heeseung whispers. He watches as one of the zombies bite you, making you scream out in pain.

The zombies all make their way to another classroom when they realize you’re the only one, and since you’ve already been bitten, you were no longer desirable to them.

Despite knowing he would most likely die if he did it, Heeseung climbs back into the room, pulling you into his arms as he did many times before.

“Hey, hey.” He chokes up as he pulls you closer. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s—okay.” You reassure him, eyes slowly turning red as your twitching hands come up to touch his jaw. “Will you sing to me Heeseung?”

You had always joked before that Heeseung would become a famous singer in the future, his beautiful voice entrancing you whenever he’d sing or hum a song.

“Of course.” He gulps, eyes becoming blurry from the tears as each second pasts.

“The monster’s gone, he’s on the run, and your boyfriend’s here.” Heeseung’s lips tremble, unable to hold in his emotions any longer. “Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful girl.”

He holds you in his arms despite your twitching body, knowing any second you would turn into one of them. He watches as the light from your eyes disappear, and your skin turns green and veiny.

Lee Heeseung doesn’t cry a lot. He believed that crying wasn’t going to fix anything.

But as he watched the Y/N he loved disappear from his arms despite being physically there, he sobs and sobs. Despite knowing it won’t do anything, he pulls your body onto his, hands on the back of your head as he begs the world to silently bring you back.

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yandere-daydreams · 9 months

Text

Black Cat!Wanderer, who you find in an alleyway behind your apartment complex, badly bruised and barely conscious. He's poorly dressed, even for a hybrid, shivering and deathly pale, but he still finds the strength to snap at you as you approach him. You have to bribe him with fish you can't afford and a blanket nicer than anything you'd buy for yourself before he lets you so much as touch him, and even then, he's quick to growl and tell you to get away from him as soon as you try to pet him. He's a temperamental kitten, but considering the state he's in, you can't say you blame him for being so defensive.

Black Cat!Wanderer, who lets himself into your apartment after a few weeks of alleyway visits and offered meals. He doesn't scratch at your door or ask to come in. You find him splayed out on your couch when you get home, muttering that it'd been too long since the last time he saw you and scowling into a clawed-up pillow. He still comes and goes as he pleases (you wouldn't try to keep a hybrid so clearly used to being on his own contained), but he spends most of his time curled up on your bed or trailing after you around the house, still pretending he'd rather be anywhere on earth other than in your lap. He says that you're just like every other human, that he only hangs around you for the food and a warm place to sleep, but the way he purrs when you scratch at his ears says otherwise.

Black Cat!Wanderer, who doesn't just visit you at home, either. He always seemed to ""coincidentally"" be passing by your office just in time to walk you home from work, and doesn't seem to consider a quick grocery run or shopping trip to be a good enough excuse to get rid of him. You're lucky he's a cat, rather than something bigger, something more difficult to pass off whenever he follows you into a cafe or bodega. He's lucky that he's so cute, or else you might call his bluff and start treating him like the housecat he won't admit he wants to be.

Black Cat!Wanderer, who doesn't know that you know he likes to cuddle up to you while you're asleep. Most of the time, he'll wait until you go to bed properly before curling up against your side, but you've found him laid out on top of you after passing out on your tiny couch, fast asleep despite his best efforts to always scurry away before you notice he's there. You never considered yourself a catperson before you met him, but god, sometimes you feel like you could spend the rest of your life fawning over your shy little alley cat.

Black Cat!Wanderer, who's been with you long enough to be hyper-aware that there are people - humans, nonetheless - you'd rather spend time with than him. He doesn't need your attention, he doesn't need you, but he's not going to lose you to a human, either - not when you're the only person he can stand to be around.

Black Cat!Wanderer, who might just be a cat but still has teeth and claws as sharp as any predator. Following the coworker you've mentioned just a few too many times home is child's play, and it only takes a few seconds to drag his claws across their throat, to dig his teeth into their jugular and shut them up before they can scream. It's just like killing a rat, something you've praised him for a thousand times, even if he still cringes when the taste of iron hits his tongue.

Black Cat!Wanderer, who spent enough time as a stray to know the best places to put something he doesn't want anyone else to find. The body is dropped into a gutter with a loose grate, the blood washed off of his face in a relatively clean drainage canal. He's home by sunrise, and he can't control the way his chest rumbles as he slots himself against your side - happier than he's ever been before.

Black Cat!Wanderer, who'd do anything to make himself the center of your little world.

#hybrid au #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere drabbles #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin #yandere genshin x you #genshin imagines #genshin impact #yandere genshin imagines #yandere scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #yandere wanderer #yanderecore #yancore

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jyoongim · 2 months

Note

I literally kick my feet anytime I see you post your writing is so good. Fuckin biting my nails and screaming !!!!

Mayhaps something with alastor and like stoic reader. Like she’s badass, nothing gets to her and tries so hard to seem dominant (cause she knows compared to alastor she really isn’t). Has never fucked annoyed cause it’s the “I only need myself, I can get myself off” mindset

At one point she ends up getting snippy with alastor and he like grabs her by the throat or something to stop her and she immediately just looses all resolve. It’s viable in her eyes as she quickly goes from defiant and brash to meek and submissive just by something so simple because she’s so unused to the feeling.

Thank you for enjoying my writing🥹🥹🥹 I hope I can continue to give you everything you desire🩷

You took a seat beside Velvette as the Overlord meeting started. She was practically fangirling next to you, sneaking a few pics of you for her socials.

The meeting went as smooth as one could go with a bunch of powerful Overlords.

You were chatting with Carmilla about business, catching sight of a familiar red demon leaving when Velvette quite literally stole you away, she sported a big grin on her face “Ooh babes, Voxxy wants to know if you’re accepting his dinner invite?”

You wanted to groan. Vox had been quite persistent in trying to gain your ‘affections’.

You were a relatively powerful overlord. As one of the few female sovereigns, you always made sure to carry yourself with poise and elegance. You got your power on your own, never having to sleep your way to get what you want. And you kept it that way. Your dominant cold personality made sinners shake in fear. You possessed a great mind for business, able to build or break someone’s business.

Many sinners would be lucky to have you oversee their management.

And Vox could see you bringing him more money then he could count.

With you under him, he would dominate in sales.

You shook Velvette off, smoothing out your suit. “For the nth time Velvette…no. I am not some power clutch for Vox to try and woo” you growled at her, eyes flashing. She rolled her eyes “babes you dont know what you’re missing” You rubbed your head as you made your way out the building, trying to ease a migraine coming through.

Your sneer must have still been on your face because you heard a voice teased you

”Frowning doesn’t suit you my dear”

Alastor.

The tall red demon was leaning against a wall, smile ever present.

You felt your eye twitch before quickly regaining your composure, spine straightening and lips pulling into a straight line.

You and Alastor were something like friends. You liked to keep your distance from the Radio Demon, but somehow he always found a way to bother you and keep you close enough for ‘entertainment’. He made you uneasy with how intimidating he was. His ever present smile could make people shit bricks alone and you knew what happened to those who crossed him…

But he didn’t scare you…much.

You growled slightly at his comment, your irritation was blinding the fact that you just barred your teeth at THE Radio Demon.

He tilted his head “trouble in paradise?” he asked sarcastically. If anyone didn’t know, Alastor knew how much you despised Vox.

”Oh piss off Alastor” you said walking pass him.

You didn’t get far before you found yourself pressed into the building wall.

You blinked, brain catching up to the fact that Alastor had a claw around your throat holding you up against the wall.

You growled out of instinct, eyes glowing and squeezed his wrist “Are You fucking crazy!? Unhan-!”

The tightening of Alastor’s hand had your eyes widening.

“Watch your tone darlin’ ”

your body went slack as a purr escaped your throat.

Alastor chuckled darkly “hahaha oh what’s this? So you aren’t so scary after all”

You blushed immediately.

You weren’t used to being manhandled by anyone.

You didn’t take orders from anyone.

You were always a force to be reckoned with…

But the way Alastor towered over you, pressing into you, you melted as he established his dominance over you.

A pout formed on your lip as you looked away shyly, feeling small “s-sorry”

Alastor hummed, loosening his grip, favoring to catch your chin with his claw for you to meet his gaze

”that’s a good girl”

@absurd-ash @simphornies @altruisticalastor @markster666 @crazyforbarnes @catherine69420 @yourdoorisunlocked @strawberrypimp666 @sssandychemd @dasimp777 @dennsfz @alastorsaries @confessioncassette @horrorartsworld @alstorloml @scaramoochiie @alishii (I can’t tag you) @gojosaturos-wife @prosciuttosblog @wedream-wecreate @coleisyn @alastorsfawn @eviebuggg @spalimly @senseichaos @thewinchestah @queenariesofnarnia @polytheatrix @zombiesnips-blog @lunaramune @freekyfangirl @kassa-stardust

If I’m missing anyone just comment hehe

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor the radio demon #alastor #alastor x reader #alastor x y/n #hazbin hotel fanfiction #jyoongim #alastor smut #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor fanfiction #alastor imagine

1K notes · View notes

diejager · 10 months

Note

a Miguel x f!reader "who did this to you?" Angst fic?

Bittersweet Devotion

Pairing : Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader

Cw: angst, neglect, canon death, dead wife, tell me if I missed any. Wc: 3.5k

Miguel’s been distant these days, the world around him coming to a stop. His temper shortened and his patience dropped lower than it was before, but his attentiveness to his work sharpened. He divulged more of his time to the cause, to defend the multiverse from every anomaly that kept popping up in wildly different universes, at the cost of his personal life. Ever since the *Miles issue* had been dealt with (Spots was stopped from ending Captain Morales’ life prematurely, the canon was kept safe and intact, but his parents knew of his identity and his duty to New York and the multiverse.), Miguel shut himself inside the main office, closed off from the wandering Spider-people he brought over to help him protect their livelihood.

Atop his platform, he worked tirelessly, swiping screen to screen in search of any escaping anomalies. He depended on Lyla to help him search and the rest of the community to capture and contain these anomalies before they could be sent back to their appropriate universe, closing the rifts they used to escape. The brooding Spider-Man locked himself in, imposing shoulder peering from the edge of his high-floating platform while he stayed there most nights; days even, he hadn’t returned to your shared apartment in the building. He ate when you, Jess or Peter B. brought food to him, he drank and cleaned only when you urged him to do so.

Staying in his den meant that he rarely slept, the dark bags under his beautiful eyes growing as the days passed. Anomalies appeared left and right, Spiders were dispersed to catch them, sometimes in solo missions, and other times in teams if Miguel deemed it necessary for the anomaly (Green Goblins, Vultures and Sandman were some that were harder to deal with for their volatile attacks.). If you weren’t sent away on a retrieval mission, you’d be working around his office, keeping it clean and usable while he moved around, growling and throwing things as he went.

That’s where things became complicated, Miguel hated meddling and you were often in his space. While he was soft and caring in your shared room (the one he hadn’t been in for weeks now), he was domineering and imposing around the others. His shorter temper meant he often hissed and growled at you, brown eyes glimmering red as he sneered your way. You hadn’t made much of it, contributing his issues to the stress and anxiety he felt while shouldering all this madness. His glares and growls meant little, he was under pressure, but his words, his rants in your face hurt.

His words burned you to your core, the degrading things he screamed at you when you did something that might’ve ticked him off or the insults he’d throw your way when you did something he deemed unsatisfactory. They stung, but you ignored the pain that tore into your heart, the tears that threatened to fall and the anger you felt at his shrugs. You simply missed him.

Didn’t you deserve some affection? To feel the tender caresses of Miguel’s hands on your skin, the loving promises of his dreams and wishes, and the adoring stares he sent your way. Were you selfish for wanting that? For wanting to have your lover back in your arms. Or were you feeling neglected from the time you spent alone in your bed, the faded scent of his musk, the coldness of your apartment and the uneaten and forgotten plates on the dining table? Were you at fault for feeling forgotten? To sacrifice one for the good of thousands. To sacrifice your love for the safety of all universes. Did one outweigh the other?

“Hijo de puta! Why can’t you do anything right?!” He’d scowl at you, talons digging into the metal of his desk. The ear-splitting sound echoed as he dragged his talons to the edge of the table, red eyes brimming with wrath. He seemed on a warpath, ripping into anything he could get his talons in and throwing the things he could lift off the platform. (Motherfucker-)

You skipped around the objects he threw in his fit, ducking under a chair he gripped and swung randomly, over the desk he kicked, and around the cabinet, he swiped at. Every object he used to vent his emotions were light, in comparison to your given strength. He’d complain afterwards about his things being broken and needing fixing, something you helped him with unless they were too technologically advanced for your time. You webbed all the things you could, aiming your wrist and quickly sticking your end to the floating platform when it stuck to the victims of Miguel’s power.

You danced around him, catching everything without getting too close to Miguel. He acted without thinking at times in these fury-filled moments, eyes tinging red and reverting to his more animalistic side. He’d warned you before about staying clear of him, to wait until he calmed himself down and realized the devastation of his office. Then he’d apologize and kiss you in hopes you’d forgive him (you always did, you knew his biology made him different - more violent - than you and the Spiders.). You’d fix the platform up, remake the broken parts or simply forget about it, like the many cabinets he ended up buying instead of patching them up.

Now especially, his tantrums began more often and lasted longer, a common occurrence when it was rare months ago. You couldn’t fault him, you didn’t want to, even if your heart throbbed painfully at his words, shoulders curving under the immensity of his tone and actions. You loved him, so you’d bare him in his best as in his worst.

“Detente- Simplemente detente!” In his fits of rage, Miguel reverted to his vulgarity, spitting Spanish words at anyone he faced. His voice was low and gravely, body convulsing as he swung at the fizzling, orange screens, dissipating under his aggressive gesture. (Stop- Just stop!)

When his fuse popped, he’d throw words left and right in Spanish, the enchanting slur of his Mexican accent turning hellish, slamming loudly like the Hephaestus’ hammer. Along his hit came the blow, the effects following them. Whether they were positive or negative, he pushed on, frenziedly hammering the weight of his words into whoever was the nearest to him. Which, coincidentally, happened to be you at the moment when you climbed onto his platform to relay the summarised report of last week’s missions from every Spider.

You let him ramble in silence, watching him twist on the spot and walk circles before his desk, turning and gesturing arbitrarily at something that wasn’t there. He’s expressive with his love, his spite, his care, his needs and his fury. He’d make big motions with his hands, voice dipping low and sometimes rising high with the pitch of his impatience. He growls when he’s displeased. He roars when he’s furious. He spits when he’s agitated. He smirks when he’s pleased. If not his voice or his lips, his eyes shine with emotion, showing those who knew how to read him how he felt.

That’s why you ignored the sharp nabs at your person, the low jabs at your work and how you dealt with the other Spiders as his right hand, or at your simple performance of his care. He didn’t want your care when he was busy, he didn’t want your soft and soothing words when he was tracking down another anomaly with vehement hate, and he didn’t want your meddling when he was focused on important matters of the multiverse.

He was stressed, and pressure mounted over self-expectations made him lose himself. Down went his tolerance for failure and mistakes. Down went his awareness of his needs. Down went his patience with people and Lyla. Every man and woman would buck under intense pressure, some would break and stop working, and others would submit to the fate of their failures, but Miguel persevered, he pushed and pushed, pulling at the strings he could grasp, even the shortest ones.

“Can you just- Coño- can you just shut up for a second?!” Miguel bucked, slamming his fist into the desk. It’d probably leave a dent for you or him to fix, a hole in the shape of his fist.

You rushed to him, hand wrapping around his upper arm, supporting his hunched body as you webbed a chair closer to him, pulling on the synthetic fibre until it was behind Miguel. You whispered encouraging words into his ear, easing him into sitting on the rolling furniture. His legs shook, falling limp when he finally sat down, back slumped over and head low. You ran your fingers through his hairline, pulling up his wild mane. His eyes were closed, bags the deepest you’d seen, and his cheeks were sunken, near sickly.

A chill wracked your body at his deteriorating appearance, his exhaustion had finally caught onto him. You wanted to fuss over him, to berate him for letting it get this far, but his exhausted figure made you frown and rethink your words. You couldn’t let this go on, you’d have to sit him down and talk to him after you took care of him. You lowered the platform, watching Miguel from the corner of your eye until you reached the lowest it could go.

“Miguel,” you hushed, pressing your lips to his cheek, soft and gentle for his fatigue. “We need to get you to our room, you can’t work anymore.”

He grumbled, feet weakly moving to ease the weight on your shoulders, you wanted to remind him that you were strong and that you could easily carry him back if you wanted, but he liked to keep his pride as the strongest, the boss that people could depend on. You nodded at those who gave you worried glances, shaking their helping hands for carrying him (you knew Miguel wouldn’t have liked others to touch him so casually.) and asked some to run errands for you while you two were busy. Lyla would take over for now, until you took care of Miguel.

“Let me help you, Miggy. Let me take care of you.”

He slept better than night, the best sleep he’d gotten in weeks - months - and was grounded to a week of rest and recuperation. You helped him shower, washing his back and hair. You cooked his favourite dishes, following the Mexican cooking books you had laying around. You gave him daily massages for the aches over his shoulders and back, massing the tenseness off his arms and legs. At night, you’d force him to bed, blocking his access to his office and kissing him goodnight. The sun rose with you, you rode Hélio’s chariot, turning his nights into mornings as you pulled Selena’s moon into the sky.

While he rested, you worked tirelessly to fill in Miguel’s seat, scouring the multiverse for anomalies and sending Spiders to deal with them. You had Lyla run diagnostics and simulations about the chance for future appearances, playing the game of prediction and bettering the percentage after each successful prediction. Peter B. and Jess could help you around the clock, they shared the job you had as Miguel’s right-hand and worked fantastically together when put in charge of it. They were still sent on missions if you and Lyla determined it was too difficult to face alone, they were skilled and had experience, and they would mentor those who needed help. If the case came forward, you would step away from the office and jump through the multiverse, aiding your fellow Spiders to capture anomalies while Lyla took care of the office.

Miguel came back healthier, stronger and more energetic. He thanked you in the forms of kisses and hugs, gratified words and gestures that made your heart warm, flutter like wings. It nearly made you forget all the heartache he burdened you with within the past months. Nearly.

Something had ticked Miguel off, his ragged breath simmering in the air, a steady stream of fury. It burned like the lowest pits of hell, ruled by the cold tone of its god, seated at the top-most throne of the Underworld. Powerful and iron-handed, Hades led with strong principles and meticulous habits, much like Miguel did. His fury and anger were dealt by Cerberus, the three-headed dog of hell, as ferocious and dangerous as Miguel’s agitated state was.

His shoulders shook, waves of unadulterated rage filtered off his back, rippling his sculpted back as metal creaked under his hands. His talons sunk into the metal, drawing lines in his anger-filled moment. He spun to face you with a roar, arms flailing until he faced you. He heaved heavily, shoulders and chest moving as his blood rushed with emotions, eyes dilated and turned deep red. He stalked towards you in all his mad glory, like the form of the Cyclops casting its dooming shadow on Odysseus’ men. Except, unlike his men, who were eaten in a blink, embraced by death in such a violent but swift way, you’d be ripped apart by it, pieces of your being torn apart for a slow and painful descent.

He moved in big, lumbering steps, looming over you, shoulders broad and demanding. He sneered at you, in ways that would kill others but wound you deeply, to tear your heart out and throw it away like old, wilted flowers. The air seemed stuffy, hot and confining, his breath even hotter, burning you when he stopped inches from you. You gaped at him, eyes wide and fingers trembling, something crossed your mind, a flash of emotion that you never thought possible to connect to Miguel: fear.

“Why can’t you be like-!” He started, mind dead set on breaking you down to your smallest, his force slamming into your softer one. Then he stopped, body seizing as if he was shot, but his round eyes told you he almost let himself slip, to let the name slip from his tongue in a haze. You knew who he was talking about, the memories that he related to her, that he was simply mad, but it didn’t ease the pain that ripped through your heart.

“Like who, Miguel!?” You cried back, hands clenching and rigid on your side. Your body trembling with disgust, shock and heartbreak. You couldn’t believe he would bring her up, to compare you to her and voice it out. It hurt; it drove the nail deeper into your coffin, adding another thing over the mountain of doubt and pain.

He just stared, he couldn’t finish his sentence, a starch contrast to his attitude seconds ago. It pained you that he couldn’t even say the words, to apologize to you about what he said. He knew how to run, how to ignore, and how to push things back. He did that well, and now he couldn’t face what he said to you was pathetic.

“Like who, huh?! Like her!? Like Dana?!” Your vision blurred, and your breath hitched as your body crashed down with agony, sadness and betrayal. You shook this time while he looked on with desperation, body unable to make a sound or motion.

“I- no- mi cielo, no- I didn’t mean to, I swear, ” he reached out, hand (his talons had received back into his pads) extending to touch you, to hold you in an apologetic embrace, but you stepped back, unable to contain your sobs. “Mi vida, please. Perdón, no fue mi intención.” (I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.)

You backed away from him, his warmth, his adoration, his love. His apology sounded guilty, dripping with regret and sorrow. He winced, watching you step away from him, regret gripping his heart as he moved to follow you. Every step you took backward, he took one forward, copying you, trying to approach you as if you were a wounded and unpredictable animal, to appease and soothe you.

You shook your head, tearing your eyes away from his teary ones. You fiddled with your watch, opening a portal to your world and shook off your watch. You jumped back before he could catch you, hand extended to you in a desperate attempt to stop you. He wanted to bring you back into his arms, to kiss the tears away and beg for forgiveness until you let him back in, but to leave him, to throw away the watch that connected you to him. It broke him.

He wouldn’t be able to see you unless you wanted to be seen, the tracker in your watch left blinking before his feet, discarded as you had with him; after he pushed you away, tore you down with his words spurred by the moment’s rush of negativity and pressure. It wasn’t an excuse, he knew that, but it didn’t ease. He sank to the floor, raking it with his talons as he cried out, a pained sob breaking out of his chest as he cradled his head, cursing himself for not being careful, for not heeding your winces and frowns, and not taking your heart into consideration.

You fell when you landed in your universe, knocking a few boxes as you crashed onto your side. Your body jerked, cold droplets pouring down on your broken figure as you sat back up on the pavement. You hissed, the downcast atmosphere making your body heave a heartbroken sob, clutching your chest - where your heart would’ve been if Miguel hadn’t shattered it - and falling into yourself. You made yourself smaller, hiding your tear-stained face between your knees as you let the rain shower over you, soaking you down to your socks.

A relationship built on pain, need and desperation was bound to fall. The carelessness of his ways cracked the edge of your relationship, slowly breaking it down into a shell of what it was. You bled for his cause as you bled for your loss. Like Apollo - a caregiver, a watcher of the fates of the people he oversaw, all the good and evil he could do just by saying the word - Miguel loved and felt, he gave and took, but lost it all in the end. His heart was broken and his soul lost over and over, the people he loved and cared for lost to time and fate. Like the Greek god, he loved what he could not have, loved what he could not hold, loved what he could not keep.

As would Daphne’s story, she loved as much as you did, she cared as much as you did, and she hated as much as you did. In love was the god, as Miguel was with you, heart-stopping in every aspect. He stood like a god over them all, tall, broad and caring. But like any Greek love story, yours was as tragic, the hymn of your love left to fester with hate and anger, with regret and untold pain. Run, you did as Daphne had, crossing where you hoped he couldn’t reach you; where you’d be left hidden from the heartbreaking sorrow.

You didn’t know how long you sat in the rain, perhaps seconds, perhaps minutes, perhaps hours, but every moment blurred into one. The once vibrant colours of New York dulled to a boring monochrome, the world was swallowed in tones of black and white. Your limbs felt numb, you could hardly feel the cold, only the drops of rain and the heaviness of your heart in your chest. You could sit here a while longer, to drown in the sensation of the world falling around you-

Then it stopped raining. That wasn’t right, you could see the water crashing onto the ground by your feet, inches from you. Your side felt warm, a calm, soothing warmth that made your body quake from the cool air. You looked to the side and saw feet, big ones. You followed their body, tracing the lines of their soaking pants, to a warm jacket, broad shoulders and to a familiar face.

“Oye, who did this to you?” His voice dripped with worry, a calmness that contradicted his frowning eyes. It was a familiar voice. It was a familiar face. It was Miguel’s face. Your lips quivered, staring at the face of your lover - ex-lover now that you thought about it - with newly shed tears. His eyes widened, even more worried than before as he crouched down to your height, hand running down your back soothingly. “Hey, hey, calm down. It’s all right.”

You wished you could believe his words, believe the softness in his tone and the beat of your torturous heart that missed the Miguel you knew. This one - your universe’s Miguel O’Hara (you didn’t even know you had one in your New York, it felt surreal to your depressed mind.) - was a stranger wearing the face of the person you loved. His face was a carbon copy of your Miguel’s, but softer on the edges, calmer and more… human than Spider-man 2099. His voice was gentler, caring more warmth for a stranger in need than yours has, like a whisper from an angel lulling you into a peaceful rest.

“Vamos, let’s get you out of the rain first.”

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entitled-fangirl · 3 months

Text

It's like heaven.

Felix Catton x reader

SMUT

Summary: Felix can't keep his hands off his angel at the party. Smut later in the story.

Words: 1,676

Warnings: p in v, cursing, Oliver being a perv

Author's note: This is from an ask! Y'all are so creative, I love it!!!

Masterlist

18+ please!

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

He was utterly speechless.

When he saw her, he was speechless.

She had wanted to surprise him, of course, shooing him from their bedroom when he was finished getting ready for the party so she could get dolled up.

Now, here she stood in a somewhat scandalous piece feeling beautiful, a halo placed on her head for the theme.

He simply stood in the doorway, his jaw dropped.

She saw him in the mirror, whipping around, "Felix! I said to wait until I was done!"

He shook out of his stupor, moving towards her with a smirk, "I forgot my angel wings but JESUS am I glad I came back." He placed his hands on her waist, "I mean, look at you, pretty girl…" His eyes held a look of admiration and lust.

She stepped back with a giggle, "Not yet. I'm not done. Shoo, Lex…" She then turned around, moving back to finish her eyeliner in the mirror.

He pulled her towards him again, her back hitting his firm abs. His lips began to trace her neck as he looked at her in the mirror, mumbling, "…what is there left to finish, angel?"

She stood when she was satisfied with the eyeliner, turning around in his arms. "…just my shoes. And… I'm no angel."

He smirked leaning down to give a kiss, his voice a slight growl, "you're my angel."

The kiss was sweet and held a lot of emotion, considering how it was soon going to become something more. She pulled away, placing a hand on his chest, "…Lex."

He pulls away with a groan, "Forget the party, beautiful."

She laughs, "No! I got ready for this, Lex. Even if you don't like the birthday boy, we still have to go!"

He would always give in to her.

He smiles, leaning in towards her again, hands beginning to wander before she stopped him, "What's going on with you tonight?"

"You're just so fucking pretty. My pretty angel. Can't keep my hands to myself."

She reaches down, taking her hand in his before she pulled him out of the bedroom and towards the party.

…

She was sat on Felix's lap when Oliver opened the door.

Felix was sitting on the small table of the overly-crowded bathroom, the pretty angel balanced on one of his thighs. He sighed when he saw Oliver.

"Felix, can I talk to you for one second?"

She looked at Felix to gauge his reaction, seeing that his eyebrows was slightly raised. He then ignores Oliver's question all together, lighting a cigarette, his other hand on his girl's thigh.

Oliver cleared his throat, "You can't ignore me forever."

He immediately rebutted, "I can try."

"Felix, we need to talk." When Felix didn't move, Oliver became insistent, "Felix, come on!"

He sighed, reaching up to place the cigarette between his angel's lips. She gladly accepts, "Look, man, I tried to be nice, but can you fuck off and bother somebody else?"

The others in the room chuckled at the interaction as they did lines off the table and floor.

Oliver stood in the doorway for a while in thought, his eyes now falling to the angel on Felix's lap. He observed her. Watched her watching him. He then turned, leaving the bathroom.

"Who was that?" Someone asked.

…

"C'mon, Lex. I wanna dance!"

She pulled him through the crowd by his hand, his wings getting hit as he passed by people, muttering quick apologies.

"Yes, angel, yes. I'll dance with you. Anything to get you close to me."

The music was blaring, the lights overstimulating, but they didn't care. They were two college kids in love, and nothing would stop them.

He pulled her to him, their bodies pressed close together as they began to dance.

A frown suddenly pulled to her face.

He leaned down, trying to whisper but having to yell to communicated, "Angel? Are you alright?"

She nods, her eyes staring at something in the distance.

He turned, following her gaze.

Oliver sat at the sidelines, hoarding a bottle all to him, drinking his problem away.

But it wasn't working.

Because he wouldn't quit looking at them.

And now they noticed.

Felix frowned as well, leaning down to her once more, his eyes not leaving Oliver's, "Fuck him. Don't let him ruin this for us."

She turned back to look at him, "I don't know…"

He laughed, "You got all pretty for me, angel! Let me enjoy it for the night, yeah? No need to worry about what's tomorrow's problem!"

She nodded, letting him pull her back to him.

As his hands began to wander, so were his thoughts.

God, she was pretty. He was blessed by the gods above for sending an angel so pure and kind as this one. His own little pretty girl. His pretty angel.

A song ended, and Felix reached down, grabbing her hand. He started to pull her away, and she wouldn't resist.

…

They walked out towards the maze, holding hands. They exchanged giggles as the alcohol kicked in.

When they neared the entrance, she stopped, "Do you know what you're doing, Lex?"

He nodded, "'Course, angel. Wouldn't take you here if I didn't." He kissed her head, pulling her once again.

They both entered the maze, happy and in love.

What they didn't know, was that Oliver had entered too.

…

What felt like hours later, and too many turns to count, the two lovers were now in a passionate kiss, their hands wandering over each others bodies.

He pulled away just enough to speak, "…you want me, angel?"

She nodded, "please…"

He pulled away completely, holding her jaw in his hand, a grin on his face, "I need to hear you say it."

She looked up at him through her eyelashes, her voice soft, "I want you, Felix. Please."

That was all he needed.

They began to pull at each other's clothes, anything that would separate the two from each other.

She reached up to pull off her halo, but his hand grabbed her wrist, "Don't."

She smiled into the kiss, pulling at his tank top.

Now, maybe half dressed, Felix pulled her up on to the base of the statue, holding her in place. Their kiss never broke as he began to move his fingers further down her body.

Her mouth opened slightly in an intake of breath as his gently pressed a finger into her core.

He smiled, his voice soft, "You can take it, angel. Feels good, yeah?"

She could only let out a whimper as he began to gently pump it in and out of her.

He whispered in her ear the entire time, his voice slightly gravely with lust, "Good… doing so good… stretching you out for me, baby… sweet girl…"

When two fingers were added, she pushed her head into his shoulder to avoid making too much noise.

He found it all amusing, watching her eyes close in concentration as her throat made small noises in pleasure.

When she was finally considered ready by his standards, he gently pulled his cock out. It was already hard at this point. It had been almost the entire night after seeing her in the outfit.

He grabbed at her jaw again, "You're very sure, angel?"

She was a begging mess, her mind already mush, "please, Lex. Make me feel good, please…"

He smiled, "Anything for my angel."

He gently pushed his cock into her, both letting out a small hiss.

She grabbed his biceps tightly, her eyes strunched a bit, trying to relax herself.

His hand were on the bottom of her thighs, giving himself leverage, "… doing so good for me…"

He stopped when he bottomed out, giving her a moment to collect herself and adjust. He used this moment to kiss her neck softly, "God, being in you is like heaven."

And he began to thrust.

She let out small, soft little grunts and moans, her hands moving over his body in search of where to find relief. One hand eventually found his hair, pulling slightly as he let out a small, "oh, fuck."

Only the sound of skin pressed against one another was heard throughout the heart of the maze.

"You're my angel… such a pretty little angel, aren't you?"

She whimpered, his cock hitting her g spot just right.

"You're gonna cum for me, aren't you… ugh… good girl… cum for me…"

Her voice was barely heard, "…Lex…."

He grinned, his lips still kissing at her neck, "C'mon, pretty girl. You can give me one-"

Oliver's voice came from the bushes where they entered, "Felix…"

Felix stopped, staring at his sweet little angel, whose eyes were wide with fear. He sighed, "Oh, Jesus Christ!" He pulled his pants back to their original position, zipping them up. He turned around, covering her body with himself, "What the fuck are you doing here?"

"I need to talk to you?"

She placed a hand on Felix's back, her head peering over his shoulder, "Were you spying on us?"

"No, I wasn't." He began to walk forward.

Felix stood a bit taller, continuing to block Oliver's view. "Mate, let the fucking lady get dressed. You sick fuck."

Oliver held his hands up, turning himself around.

Felix quickly turned, helping his angel get redressed.

Once done, he pulled her to him, gently kissing the top of her head. He leaned towards her, whispering in her ear once more, "…go to the bedroom. I'll be there."

She nodded, her eyes filled slightly with tears. She walked forward, going to move past Oliver.

Oliver reached out a grabbed her wrist. He pulled her to him, "May want to fix that." He straightened the halo on her head, watching her nervous reaction, "Wouldn't want people to think you're naughty, do you?"

Felix stepped forward, his voice dark and threatening, "Oliver…"

Oliver let go of the girl, a slight smirk on his face.

She left the maze to go to the bedroom, having no idea Felix would never see his angel again.

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

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justwannabecat · 1 year

Text

“That’s it! I give up!” Phantom yelled. As though he had said something blasphemous, all fighting stopped as the participants stared in confusion. “You humans think you’re the paragon of all existence, proclaiming that anything different is lesser. Well we aren’t! We’re just as sentient as you are, and we have thoughts and feelings! You just choose to ignore it so you can justify your xenophobic actions!”

Phantom turned to Technus, who had frozen in shock as Phantom went on his tirade. “And you! Tell the other ghosts I’m done saving them, too, because none of you care! You don’t care if property is destroyed, or if humans get hurt, or if other ghosts get hurt! All you care about is your stupid Obsessions! You’re too caught up in your own mind to see what you’re doing to everyone around you!”

“But your Obsession is Protection, is it not? You’ve never stepped down from a fight-“ Technus began. Phantom didn’t let him finish.

“My Obsession is Space! If I had my way, I’d spend my nights stargazing, or maybe even on the moon! Instead I’m stuck cleaning up your messes because you can’t control yourselves!” Phantom growled. He glared at the crowd of people who had gathered, curious as to why all fighting had stopped.

“Humans are cruel and hateful. Ghosts are ignorant and careless. I’m tired of wasting my time protecting both sides from the other and being blamed for it. I quit. If anyone dies, or is captured, it’s no longer my problem.“

Like that, Phantom vanished.

The Fentons celebrated, not even noticing Technus make his own escape. The crowd murmured, worry just as prevalent as confidence. The few phones that were recording the event were put away, and later the footage would be checked. Unfortunately, most recordings were corrupted beyond recognition.

Most, but not all.

——————————————————

Amity Park. Ground Zero for the start of the war between the Living and the Dead. Humanity and Ghosts.

Why it had only recently escalated to this, Batman couldn’t tell. His research found that there had been a portal opened to the Realms years ago, and the laws passed just a year after that. Most of the town was stuck behind an information blackout that the government refused to give access to. Whatever happened, Constantine assured him that it was almost certainly the government’s fault.

After almost three weeks of trying to get beyond the firewalls, he finally figured it out. “Research” that claimed ghosts were nothing but evil. News articles calling “Phantom” a troublemaker. Forums that spoke about how “Phantom” ruined the town while fighting other ghosts.

A video, old and grainy but still clear enough to be used as evidence. A glowing, white-haired boy that told everyone he was done. That he was tired of fixing everything. Of saving everyone. That nobody was good, everyone was bad, and they were on their own.

They used to have a hero, but Phantom left. Without him, both sides tore at each other until there was nothing but an all-out assault. They needed to stop this, but without a mediator they would not make it through to the ghosts.

If they could find Phantom, perhaps they could fix everything before it was too late.

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dxckgrxsonx · 11 months

Text

Just be Quiet

Pairing - Dick Grayson x (F) Reader

Words - 0.6k

Warnings - SMUT 18+ - Graphic Sexual Content - Mean!Dick - Forced Quiet Sex - Kinda Public Sex - A little bit of Name Calling (Disgusting, Pathetic, Crybaby) - Crying - Swearing

Notes - Um hi. Let's ignore the fact I was supposed to post this last week. I drank a little too much wine, passed tf out, and then work kicked my whole ass. I simply do not vibe with being employed smh.

MASTERLIST

“Be quiet.” Dick snaps, his voice bordering on the lethal edge of an order and not a request. Your skin positively bristles when he shoves his hand over your mouth to muffle the desperate, involuntary noises escaping from between your chattering teeth and he growls, thoroughly fed up with your shit. “Shut your fucking mouth.”

Your thighs tremble, trapped between Dick’s firm, unyielding body and the wall. He snaps his hips forwards, forcing the full length of him into your weeping cunt with one stroke and your eyes roll straight back into your skull, body shuddering through the stretch.

“Don’t you make a fuckin’ sound.” He demands when you inhale, words vibrating in your throat, chest aching with how much you want to moan and whimper. Forcing your thighs wider with his knee he drags his cock almost all the way out before sinking back into your soaked pussy. “You just can’t help yourself, can you? I tell you not to make a sound and here you are, whining through my fingers like a brat.”

You didn't even notice you were moaning and keening and whimpering loud enough for him to hear–but you are–and it makes Dick ground out your name in a low, dangerous snarl.

It's a warning.

“I can’t fuck–I can’t help it!” You try, nearly in tears from the effort it takes to stay quiet for him. Your words are muffled against his palm and a particularly harsh thrust has you gasping his name, a long, drawn out whine chasing. “S’too good.”

Dick kisses the back of your neck then moves so he can speak directly into your ear.

“Yes you can. You’re just doing this on purpose to piss me off. Why won’t you be fucking quiet?!” Fucking into you at a rougher pace you can’t stop the desperate little noises from slipping through his fingers. “It’s almost like you want people to know I’m fucking you. Is that what it is? You want everyone to know you’re a desperate whore who likes being fucked where anyone could see you? You’re disgusting.”

Your body tries to flinch away from his punishing pace but Dick tuts disapprovingly and presses you even more firmly against the wall with his strong hips; forcing you to take every rough stroke and scathing comment from his smart mouth. He nudges your thighs apart again when you try to close them and your pussy throbs and creams against the base of his cock in desperation.

Dick scrapes the blunt edges of his teeth against your neck and you can feel the smirk pressing at his lips.

“I can feel you squeezin’ at me.” He says, sinking balls deep into your cunt and stopping just to feel you convulse around him. “You like being fucked by your Team Leader, huh? With the way you act, it’s no surprise you like this. What? You think I don’t notice. You’re more pathetic than I thought.”

Moaning into his hand you blink against the onslaught of tears and Dick feels them slide warm over the backs of his knuckles.

Your pussy is aching.

“Oh fuck. Are you crying right now?” He grunts, cock swelling and twitching inside you. “I can’t believe how sensitive you are.”

“Please!” You beg, sniffling and trying to stop yourself from crying. “Dick–plea–stop being so mean to me.”

“No.” He replies, pressing his hand over your mouth even harder so every word is barely audible. “We’re not stopping until you’re dripping with my come. And you better be fucking silent, do you hear me? My poor little crybaby. I want you to be a good girl for once and shut the fuck up because if you think I'm being mean to you now, you're in for a shock if you can't follow simple orders.”

The post that inspired this is -

#dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x reader smut #dick grayson x you smut #dick grayson smut #dick grayson fanfic #dick grayson fanfiction #nightwing x reader #nightwing x reader smut #nightwing smut #titans smut #titans fanfiction #mean!dick x reader #mean!dick x reader smut #ella writes

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