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hazelfoureyes · 1 year ago

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⟢Alastor x Cupid FemReader Tasked with making a demon believe in true love or you can’t return to heaven, things immediately go off the rails when you hurt yourself and Alastor catches one of your most troubling arrows; Mania

˚₊ · »-♡→ Week 1 and Week 2 ˚₊ · »-♡→Week 3 and Week 4 smut💦 ˚₊ · »-♡→Week 5, Week 6, Week 7, and Epilogue smut💦

Alastor demands you tell him what you’d consider a nice date, which makes a surprisingly lovely time in the library. Dancing leads to… not dancing and a minor rearranging of your guts. And finally, you try to shame Alastor out of Mania and Alastor finds himself having to explain, well, Alastor.

「warnings/promises: Smut, guts➡️rearranged, kinda dub➡️con cuz Alastor still doesn’t listen, but funnily enough neither do you?, lots of interrupting each other, Luci’s hat, you’re down so fucking bad lmao」

🎶 minors DNI 🎵

Angel was live blogging everything you said when you recounted what happened to you after returning to the hotel.

“Wait there’s a character limit, I gotta make a new post.” He was wiping actual tears from his eyes, “Fuck this is funny.”

“Hmmph,” Alastor offered a small noise from his end of the sofa. Neither of you had mentioned or even referenced the sex. There was a strange feeling between you that it didn’t happen so it didn’t need a discussion. But also that it had absolutely happened, as Alastor’s hands found renewed vigor in their search for you when in public and private and your body seemed to respond in kind. You’d still occasionally move his hand off of you, but there was a pulse of electricity every time. When his hand would come to rest on your upper thigh while seated beside each other in the common areas, you let it linger. What harm was it? Heaven wasn’t fucking watching.

Everything aside, the sex had done nothing to dispel his interest. Perhaps you’d only made it worse, for both of you.

By midweek you found the sling useless, happily tossing it aside and beginning gentle stretches. That was more progress than you'd made in your main task.

Every morning you woke up beside Alastor, every day you had him in your orbit, every night you fell asleep feet from him.

Had Mania not taken him he would be a prime candidate for showing the virtue of true love. He was already fucking there, a captive audience. But that wasn’t how it worked. Cupid-induced manic love could never be true. Nothing you created was true, really. But atleast with Eros or Agape you could still have added the notion of true love to the mix. His heart would still be receptive and open to the idea. The way he was now, you could proselytize until you were blue in the face and he’d still think manic love was true love.

An unintended consequence of living with Alastor was discovering you both had quite a bit in common, as much as that information irked you. He enjoyed horror movies such as ‘Dracula’, you enjoyed horror movies as well, just newer ones. Ones in color. He could cook quite well, something you enjoyed to do. And his taste in music was actually lovely. You had assumed he listened to screams on a 7 hour loop.

Actually, upon closer inspection, Alastor was nothing like you had initially assumed. While he had shown you he was capable of terrifying feats of strength and power, he was also remarkably gentle. Every time you descended the stairs his hand was barely felt as it hovered at your elbow ready to save you.

Early in the week you fell asleep watching the group play a board game, somehow redemption related, and awoke with his coat laid over your body. When you thanked him, he just smiled and continued enjoying watching Niffty hide the play money.

You were finding yourself more and more wishing the arrow had never fallen. If you’d just met him as you fell, perhaps you would be staring into that portal home. There were definitely worse options around. Even his imposing height had begun to…not bother you, perhaps was the best way to say it.

Or his large hands. There was a safety in the way they rested on your back. Speaking of…

Your throat ran dry when he leaned into you, one of those hands sliding across your thigh, and asked against your ear, “Ready to go?”

He had to have seen you licking your lips to unstick your teeth. With a nod, he stood and offered a hand to you.

You both were already out of the elevator and walking to your room when he slowed, coming to stop just in front of you.

His room, fucking hell.

“You know, I was thinking,” he wasn’t looking as he spoke to you, which was odd given how often he stared at you. “If you’re going to be here with me from now on-“

You opened your mouth to argue but he put his hand up, “I’d like to know the things you enjoy doing with your romantic interests.” His smile was almost pure, you could tell he was genuinely asking.

“Well I don’t have any so, why would you care?”

“No things you enjoy?”

“No romantic interests.”

His head lolled to the side, “Sometimes I think you say things just to bother me.”

You did.

“I do.”

You thought if you kept being rude maybe you could keep him at an arm’s length. Not get too attached. You’d been kind to people you didn’t like before and eventually you started to like them. This was that. But opposite.

He stared down at you, taking a step closer. You took one back. That smile shifted from pure to sinister, his eyes half lidded. You could almost see the thoughts playing on his face.

“Alastor-,” your back hit the elevator doors. The pounding of your heart when he brought his face to yours drowned out the sounds of the button being pressed. When the doors opened you fell backward with a yelp, but a strong arm caught you by the waist.

“You have twelve floors.” His hand hit the first floor button, “You can share with me your idea of a quality date. Or I can show everyone,” that clawed hand came to your neck, sliding down the evidence of your pounding heart, “how pretty you scream.”

As soon as the doors closed you were pressed against the elevator wall, right leg pulled up and around his waist. “You wouldn’t dare.” You had meant it to sound strong but instead it was half whispered with a shaky voice.

He popped a button off your blouse, “Maybe!” Warm mouth now on your neck, his tongue ran over your pulse, “I wonder if everyone is still in the lobby.”

Over his shoulder you watched the numbers counting down. The hand that cut off the button slid down to your bottoms, slipping under the waistband.

On the 3rd floor the elevator stopped. When the doors opened a demon you didn’t recognize was standing there, eyes wide and mouth open. He didn’t make a move to enter, Alastor looking over his shoulder and sharing what you could only assume was a death glare. The flickering lights were a giveaway to his anger.

His fingers dipped down and cupped your sex, hot palm pressing into your folds.

The doors closed again and you watched the second floor light up. A finger bent and pressed into you.

A nibble at your ear, “You know I’ll win, regardless.”

He was right. Which was the smaller defeat? Humiliation or just telling the bastard your idea of a nice time?

“Books. Drinks.” You squeaked, the first floor lamp now aglow. His hand pulled away just as the doors opened.

Expecting him to gloat you were surprised he just hit the 10th floor button. The library.

He opened the door for you. The library’s main area had two reading chairs bookending a long antique sofa. You took the chair furthest from the door, hearing the door lock.

With a snap, the entire bar with Husk included seemed to fall three inches out of thin air.

“Oh for fucks sake.” Husk looked around, already annoyed, “You coulda just fucking asked for drinks to bring with you. You know cups are portable, right?”

It was nice, actually. Husk poured, you both read. There was an unnecessary fireplace crackling behind you. Cozy. And it got cozier and warmer the more you drank. Your shields softened as the glasses emptied.

Your book was good, but as you felt the alcohol hit you were reminded of the last time you’d gotten a little past tipsy. Sneakily, but not at all, your eyes wandered over to Alastor.

His legs were crossed, but you could remember looking down and seeing them spread open beneath you. Open. Did many people see him like you had? Had his talk about a disinterest in sex actually been a trick to intrigue you? It hadn’t worked, you genuinely didn’t care what his preferences were. If anything it made you less likely to make a pass.

Your eyes wandered down his slender neck to his wide shoulders. Less than a week ago your arms were resting there. Further down, you remembered that soft bit of fur at the base of his cock, a small trail from his belly button.

Husk watched your face turn pink, “You good?” Your head whipped around, looking confused. “You’re getting red.”

Oh. I was just thinking about my pussy drowning in Alastor’s cum.

No, obviously not!

Alastor’s eyes left his book and found yours. They were so red; his eyes, not your cheeks. No one in heaven had such wicked an appearance. When you didn’t reply, busy staring back at Alastor, Husk groaned, “Aah fuck.”

“What are you reading?” You asked, clearly able to see the book title from where you sat.

Alastor held it up, “Oliver Twist.”

“Never read it.”

You had read it.

Setting your book down, you tried to walk as straight as a line as you could to him. You took the book from his hands and sat down on his lap, back against his chest, before picking it up again. “What page are we on?”

“You can leave, Husker.” Alastor didn’t even look at Husk when he said it, eyes still on your face.

When the door closed and Alastor could lock it with a snap, he uncrossed his legs. “Would you like to start over dear? From the beginning.”

Maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad idea.

“Can we?” You leaned your head onto his shoulder. When had he become so comfortable…?

“We can.” The book was set aside, his left hand pulling your chin up, “I think we skipped a few chapters before.”

You opened your mouth, “I don’t like kissing.”

“You will.”

The front part of your brain dissolved, you were sure of it. Your decision making abilities were entirely eradicated as his lips pressed into yours. Fuck, maybe even your basic motor skills had been fried, his tongue swiping across your mouth before you just—opened. Your hips ground down into his lap, and you felt his smile widen against your lips.

“Stop smiling. I just like warm bodies.” You reached for the book and opened it to the first page, “and you’re so fucking warm.”

He began to read, but between the rumble of his chest, his voice in your ear, and the heat of his body, you fell asleep.

No matter. Alastor just hummed. With a summoning of his shadow you both sank into your shared bed, where he continued reading with you against his chest.

You dreamt about home. About red eyes and warmth.

Was it so bad, being in hell? Sure you had a fucking deer demon as guard dog but it seemed his mania was … not so terrible. Honestly he seemed relatively normal now. He would wander off for significant lengths of time, even leaving in the mornings while you were still lazing about. A kiss to your hand was the indicator he would be popping off somewhere.

Alastor still wouldn’t let Lucifer alone with you, but otherwise everything was okay. You’d even come to enjoy certain aspects of his possessiveness. That ever present hand, for example. Even when it wasn’t on you, you could still almost feel it. It had become second nature now.

The week was actually peaceful. Your pain was entirely gone, you could move about freely. Despite that Alastor still would press up behind you and offer to help dress you. An offer you declined, but every time he asked you paused longer and longer before saying no.

Alastor was happy to find you in the library toward the end of the week, you having wandered off when he was called away. He summoned a confused but pissed off Husk again, who was midway through making someone else’s drink. He set it aside, pouring Alastor his whiskey. You decided against drinking, you knew you always made poor decisions. Like sleeping.

Delighted by the impressive collection you found a non-fiction and settled into the same large chair.

“Reading is a virtue.” He said to himself yet out-loud, taking a seat and setting the radio on from across the room. Etta James. ‘Somethings got a hold of me.’

“A little past your time, isn’t it?” You smiled, you liked songs about love. Not because of who you were, you just liked the idea of someone so enamored they have to make art.

He laughed, “Nosey little bird, have you been asking about me?”

Well shit. You had forgotten to play dumb. The past couple weeks you had casually inquired about Alastor from the other staff members. A modest collection of facts to help you better understand the man. A quick recovery. “Know your enemy!”

He cackled, “Sun Tzu! What does Cupid need ‘The Art of War’ for?!”

What, did he expect you to only read romance novels and Roman mythos? “You can’t make a shadow without light. In fact,” you put the book down, “The Greeks thought Cupid was a child of War and Beauty.”

Okay well, Greek mythos is a little different than their Roman counterpart’s. So. There.

Alastor watched you leaning over the arm of the chair, no sign of pain as you did so. Your injury must have mended well. “Do you have parents?” He asked, genuinely wondering how your kind were created.

“No, we're just… made. And then sent off on assignments.”

“You must be terribly busy, just one person for all of earth.” If Alastor could pull some limbs and find out more from anyone but you, he would, but unfortunately no one but Vaggie would know anything about you and he had a feeling her time in heaven was never spent thinking about love.

“Oh, actually not so much! When I’m with humans I can travel around without worrying about the concept of time at all. But it takes a toll.” Or so you were told. There were never two Cupids at one time so you couldn’t really ask your predecessors. Alastor’s brows rose, unsure how exactly a Cupid could be taxed if they didn’t feel pain and couldn’t be hurt. “Every trip to Earth weakens us. Until our bodies just, I guess, give out.” A smile crept across your face, unsure what expression you were supposed to be making.

“Is it just Earth? Or,” he lowered the radio volume with just a glance, “Every time you leave heaven?” It would take a great effort to not notice the weight suddenly blanketing the library. Silence was heavy with what he was really asking you. Would remaining here kill you?

It was a great question. Wow he’s really good at this. It almost seemed like he gave a shit. No one had ever asked you about your creation, about your work. It was nice. Even from him. Maybe especially from him.

You had never been to hell, so you couldn’t be sure, but, “I think it’s a human-world time-thing. But I guess we’ll find out!” Another misplaced smile before you awkwardly leaned back and picked up the book.

While you hadn’t noticed the slip up you had made, Alastor had. “I suppose we will.”

You would find out, because you wouldn’t be returning to heaven. He was glad you, even if unconsciously, understood that. And perhaps you could live forever if you never returned to earth.

When the song ended, you offered one of your own.

Alastor was pleasantly surprised to hear you request Nat King Cole’s ‘It’s almost like being in love’.

Standing, he offered you his hand for a dance. “Ugh I hate this cheesy shit.” You said it but stood anyway, putting your hands in his.

Alastor laughed, swaying side to side, “Not a fan of romance? Has Cupid never been in love?”

Those were two seperate things. How could you explain? “Drug dealers number one rule. Never get high off your own supply. That would be—.”

Lonely. Pathetic.

“A bad idea.” His cheek rested on your head. It was a shockingly tender act. “Can you understand? Why would I want something I made. What’s special about that?”

“And what of true love? It isn’t made by you, yes?” Asked into your hair.

“Yeah but when will I ever find the time to make a connection worthwhile. Winners and Angels are gluttons for choice, I am obviously built for a fun time not a long time.” Which you were…fine with. Yeah. I mean, what choice did you have? “And I don’t want to force it…so…” you trailed off. The rest didn’t matter.

He nodded, suppressing another laugh. “I see. Well, allow me to give you something you inspired, how about that? Not made. Would you say no, my muse?”

Inspired? Like a song? “Ha, what have I inspired in you, heathen.”

Alastor stopped dancing, his hand pulling your face up for a kiss which took you by surprise.

“Seriousl-,” Husk mercifully disappeared in a flash of neon green.

You couldn’t remember exactly how it happened, much like many of the moments you surrendered to Alastor. It was so fast and he was so strong, his hands large and confident in how they moved you. Before you knew it you were bent over the sofa’s arm getting fucked so hard your leg was shaking and your stomach nauseous.

This was much better than songs or art or whatever you inspired in others. You were gasping with every breath, the action somehow heightening the sensations. The little huffs and groans your body was pulling from him had your heart racing.

His cock was smashing your womb into your guts, the entire organ suddenly feeling like a new pleasure spot. Every jolt to your cervix made a novel kind of bliss pool in your stomach.

You cried, head empty as he completely left your heat before bottoming out again, “Stop, Alastor. Stop.” A strained moan, hands gripping the wooden sofa arm, “stop, stop, fuuuuck.”

He was pulling out too far and too fast, hitting back too hard and too deep. Your cunt felt swollen around him, your entrance so soft and wet he didn’t need precision to sink back in.

“Does it hurt?” He said quickly on the down beat of his thrust.

“Nngh no.”

“Theeen, no.”

Alastor pulled you up by your chin, back bending as he titled your mouth to his. Despite your mouth hanging open with your tongue out as salacious as you’d ever been, you told him, “I really don’t kiss during sex.”

The look in his downcast eyes sent a shiver along your spine, a power there you couldn’t push against, “You do now, my dear.”

When in hell, you supposed. You didn’t even try to argue, accepting his tongue wrapping around yours and exploring your mouth while his dick churned up your insides. Full from top to bottom. Full of Alastor. Safe. Wanted. Needed.

You pulled away when there was an overwhelming bone-deep sensation spilling through your hips and down your thighs. The muscles felt weak there, and you had an urge to runaway from it but Alastor held you still.

A scream of ecstasy as both legs shook violently, you finally got your hands free orgasm but to your shock it didn’t stop. As it appeared to wane, it just started mounting again. By the third roll, Alastor came with a push so deep your chest fell over the arm of the sofa. If not for the hands bruising your hips, you would have fallen off entirely.

The ache in your stomach began immediately, you’d have thought someone had been punching you in the gut. Well, more literally than they had been. When you groaned and complained to Alastor about what he had done, he pulled you up by your waist.

You were drawn into him, back to his chest again with your body between those long legs. His hands came to your stomach. Alastor massaged deep circles into your abdomen.

“Does that help?” His high voice lowered, husky and kind into your ear. You nodded, the pressure relieved the discomfort.

You wondered if he was used to taller demons than your shorter heavenly form, or perhaps he wasn’t used to anyone at all. Maybe sinners had more room than you did.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you. Believe it or not,” probably not, “I’m never trying to hurt you.”

Was it terrible you actually did believe him? Yes he was a serial killer, and considered one of the most cruel overlords in recent memory. But he was always gentle when his hands were on you. Flits of memories of him washing your feet came back to you.

“I know perhaps,” his hands kept moving, your back already stuck to his with well earned sweat, “I have at times been easily incensed.”

You nodded quickly.

“But, It’s just,” you heard him swallow hard, “ah I absolutely hate this,” He whispered it to himself. “I’m just scared you’ll leave before I’ve managed to convince you how much happier I can make you here.”

It’s not that it was funny, necessarily, but the very idea hell could be happier than Heaven was laughable. It was Heaven. It was made to be happy. It existed purely to please.

The smile faded from your face. Well, for the winners. It was made to please the winners. It wasn’t made for you, but you still got much enjoyment. You had…sex. Great sex. Not held aloft in a radio tower great, but…You always came. Everyone did. Wasn’t that the point of it?

Wasn’t that the point?

What was the point?

A warm and lonely bed is better than an empty one alone. So.

Well, your bed was always warm and never lonely in hell now that you’d been “moved”.

You had… Hobbies. You liked swimming.

Okay well the hotel had a pool. And yes, if you weren’t running off to earth on command you’d have more energy for hobbies.

What were you thinking about this for again?

You gathered the scraps of your relevant thoughts, “Happiness isn’t being confined to a hotel, Alastor.”

“As soon as you show me you won’t leave me, I won’t care where you go. As long as you’re safe.” One of his hands left your stomach to stroke your cheek, “I’m just waiting for you to realize what I already know.”

If Alastor were to ease his grip on you, could you enjoy yourself? Well, more than you did. But it was more than that, you had to admit you hated the idea of losing, of just running away. “I don’t like giving up.”

His laugh was quiet but it rocked you as his chest moved. “Darling they threw you to hell and told you you’re not allowed to leave unless you do homework. Giving up what? Being a servant to heaven?”

If he had said it a couple weeks prior, you would have left the room indignant. But now, settled against his hot skin and being so softly touched, it sounded like tough love.

“I don’t belong here though.” You were talking to yourself. So many excuses.

His arms wrapped around your chest to hug you into him, “You belong wherever I am.” His cheek pressed against yours, “I won’t let you go.”

A threat. A threat you leaned into and warmed yourself with. A threat a quiet part of you hoped he kept his word on.

You were getting too comfortable. Every morning you woke up to Alastor curled into your body, holding you tightly to him and you found yourself smiling before your consciousness clicked on. At some point in the last week he grabbed your chin and kissed you good night and suddenly every time he left your side you allowed a kiss to your cheek before he parted. What was worse was how you’d talk in bed about your recent reads and what happened the few hours you weren’t with each other.

The thing that made you realize you were getting honestly too deep was when you went to go to bed early and actually took the elevator past your floor, walked all the way to his station and told him good night. You’d made it to his chair and were leaning down for your kiss when your face fell flat.

He asked what was wrong but you shook your head. A poorly faked smile offered to him.

You sat in your bed. His bed. Your bed?

You sat in bed and wondered how to press forward. Two months, nearly, you’d been in hell. At this rate surely heaven had made a replacement. If you could make it back quickly you could still keep your place.

A decision was made, you’d never confronted Alastor head on. You had misunderstood his illusion of you. But maybe if you just forced it into his thick skull he’d been controlled and puppeted by an arrow, not his free will, he would abandon it to save his pride.

Knees to your chest, why were you crying again? Did you want to go home?

No, you wanted to curl into his stupid fucking lap and listen to him hum his stupid old, forgotten songs. You wanted to dance while Husk groaned and rolled his eyes. You wanted to feel loved.

But you weren’t made to want things. And Alastor didn’t love you.

Okay, one more night to enjoy yourself before you pissed him off so much he kicked you out of his bed. Or took such a turn into obsession he never let you leave the room again, allowing you to shirk responsibility for not returning to heaven.

When you turned the handle there was resistance, the door pushing in.

“Alastor? Done already?” He’d seemed busy earlier.

He closed the door and locked it. Oh. A blush. The sound of a locking door had come to mean certain things to you.

“You seemed bothered.” His thumb wiped where your tears had already dried, “What ever is the problem? Did someone upset you? Some neck I should wring?” You shook your head no. His other hand came to join in holding your face, those goddamned red eyes melting you to nothing, “Some limbs I should snap?” He took a step toward you and you took two back, hands holding his wrists. Another no. “Or some cheeks I should kiss?”

Stop crying.

An eager nod. “Don’t cry, my love.” Soft lips catching your tears, thin fingers wiping them away. He kept walking forward and you kept walking back until your legs hit the bed.

One more night, just in case. In case he forfeits the mania.

You kissed his neck, startling him. “Rare form. Did you need some more intimate attention, darling?” You tried to avoid initiating, never knowing what he wanted or when, never wanting to enjoy his touch too much. “I could indulge you.”

What you wanted was to be reduced so thoroughly to just a physical creature by way of pleasure that your mind disconnected from your brain. Fucked dumb, as people said. Alastor wouldn’t know what that meant but you were confident he’d enjoy sussing out the finer details of the meaning if it meant your full surrender.

You bit down on his neck, getting you pushed onto the bed in return. “I need overindulgence. I don’t wanna feel anything tonight but you.” You should practice your manners, for heaven's sake. “Please.”

There it was again. That look that turned your bones to jelly and your brain to cotton; that downcast half lidded stare as he towered over you that promised to devour you whole. His hand pulled at his bow tie and loosened his collar, knees on the bed as his legs spread you open at the thighs.

“Good girl.”

No punishment or inspiration, just that mental numbness that turned off all your worries. We’re you making stupid faces? We’re your sounds embarrassing? Didn’t matter. You didn’t care. You clung to his body like you’d fall apart without his skin on yours. Because you would, in some fashion.

Every gap between your bodies felt like room for doubt. So you filled them with flesh and sighs and moans.

With his height difference you were smothered by him when in traditional heaven-approved missionary, but you liked lying on top. Your head only made it to his chest when your hips were positioned above his cock. You could go slack and let him move you on and off himself. You had been lying when you said you preferred to not move or make noise, but you’d learned he got harder and more feral when you let him manipulate your body any way he pleased.

He smelled like sweat and leather, probably from the chairs in the lobby. No one sweats in heaven, this seemed like a mistake now. You’d have to be sure to not wash your clothes after you left hell, or else you’d forget his scent.

After finishing, he was surprised to find you still clinging to his torso, arms under his armpits and hooked onto his shoulders. He offered to pull out and let you lie down but you just held on tighter in response. He glanced around the room, soft light and softer music on the radio. Your quiver and bow rested against the armoire, practically dusty. He asked if you were alright, a hand coming to your back with large claws gently scratching.

“Yeah I will be.” you lifted your head, waiting.

Both of his eyebrows rose, unsure what you were waiting on.

Complete surrender. “Good night kiss.” You had to stretch to meet his lips before settling back into his chest, “okay bore me to sleep with your day, sinner.” He gladly did, you falling asleep yet again to the sound of his slow heartbeat and the rumble of his words.

You awoke nauseous, already knowing your day was going to fucking suck and it’d be your own fault. The idea of approaching Alastor and initiating the conversation felt impossible, your feet became stone when you thought of it.

The coward’s option. Wait for time alone and then pace the library until he came to find you.

After an hour or so he did, smile brightening as he entered. “Should I summon the bar?”

You shook your head no, struggling to speak. He sat in his chair, book still on the small side table.

Heart pounding, you considered doing this another day or week or maybe year but knew you’d already lost so much time. “Alastor, I need to talk to you about my task.”

He snapped the book shut, eyes not leaving his hands. “Oh?”

“I need to leave the hotel or at least need serious time alone with someone. I need to change someone’s heart on true love. I can’t go home—,” you were cut off, Alastor standing quickly.

“Home?”

“Alastor.” You stood your ground even as his spine stretched and antlers widened.

“Your home is wherever I am.” A pained smile now, something akin to hurt in his eyes that did damage to you too. “Ah. So last night— and people say I’m cruel.”

“I’m not supposed to be here!”

A snap, his anger and desperation eclipsing his pain, “Why don’t you ever listen-,”

Your turn to cut him off, “Because you’re under a spell! You act so fucking tough like you’re in control all the time. But you’re not! It’s just the effect of the arrow.”

He laughed, but you kept going, “Don’t act like you’re sooo strong you can fight the effects of my shot. You don’t fucking love me. Not really, not naturally. It was an accident. You’re just— it’s been made by me. I don’t want it. I want something real and true.”

“My feelings are true, just let me speak. I can make you understand if you’d just listen to me.” Pupils like pins, teeth somehow sharper.

“Alastor you can’t have true love. Nothing triggered by my arrows can ever be true.”

Another ring of laughter, “Tell me then how your true love is different than mine, Oh Wise Cupid.”

You huffed, “Don’t talk down to me, radio demon. True love means caring deeply for someone else that occupies your heart and mind-,” he opened his mouth, looking around the room for where you found the audacity but you snapped twice to get his attention back, “not just that! You put them first without fear because if they truly love you they would never take advantage of that. It’s trusting them with the most fragile parts of yourself. It's a best friend. Someone who makes you feel like a better version of you, makes you want to always be improving yourself.”

Alastor was still smug, staring at you from his unnervingly demonic height, “Lovely! Last question, expert, is true love ever one sided?”

You thought for a beat, “It can be.”

He hummed, body swiftly resuming his smaller but, again, still too tall scale, antlers remaining fierce as his sinister smile dropped to just a small upward turn of his lips. “I see. You’ve truly enlightened me. I believe you.” The sarcasm wasn’t lost on you.

You rolled your eyes and licked your lips to go off when a portal opened beside you.

Heaven was just beyond the shining circle.

You looked from Alastor to the circular doorway, taking small steps towards it. Your hand pressed through, confusion wiping your own smugness off your face.

Alastor began a mocking slow clap. “I’ve been convinced. Happy now? Task complete.”

“But- the love Mania causes…It clouds the mind, you can’t even process the idea of true love properly.” You searched the floor for some clarity.

His hands stopped, eyebrows meeting his bangs as a laugh that started typically but quickly morphed into maniacal filled the room. You just kept pushing your hand in and out of the portal. Alastor finally quieted, antlers fully drawn back into little prongs. He stared at you. A shiver as his smile reached his ears. That look again. You took a deep breath, ready to be eaten.

“Your little arrow didn’t pierce me, you glorious fool. It literally fell into my pocket. I was never under the effects of your magic. I said that many times.” He straightened out his suit jacket, “Very plainly, might I add. You just never listened to me. So sure you knew better than I did.”

You sputtered, too many thoughts trying to express themselves, “Why did you act like that then?!”

“Because I wanted you. Something something first sight, as I recall the adage goes.” He crossed his arms and looked at his claws, “Perhaps my love happens to be manic by default. I am a murderous overlord, darling.”

All the energy left your body, shoulders relaxing. “Oh.”

“So, here I am,” he opened his arms, “trusting you to not hurt me any further today. Does that fall into your narrow view of true love?”

A good question. You shifted your weight onto your other foot, looking back at heaven. You could see the shining gates.

He sighed and brought his arms down, “I can’t promise how long I’ll let you stand there and look at anything other than me.”

A warning.

A deep breath, another shift onto your other foot again as you shook the anxiety out of your hands before finally making eye contact with him, “Well, eldritch horror, prove it.”

You heard the door lock from across the room.

You decided heaven could wait. It took about two days before they seemed to notice you hadn’t entered the portal, which closed on its own some time between Alastor pushing you onto the floor and you begging him for more. Luckily St. Peter wasn’t privy to your escapades.

It was a fact Sera was aware you had completed your task, because a knock came to the library door on that second day after you did so. Entering without waiting for a reply, which was brave, Lucifer and his hat popped into the room.

“Heeeey giiiirl. I got a message from heaven asking what’s the hold up, worried you were incapacitated.”

From your seat in Alastor’s lap you lowered your book, “How nice of them to suddenly care about my well-being.” You brought the book back up, “Little late.”

He nodded, “Uh huh, uh huh. Yeah I can understand that. Sooo,” his fingers tapped the door, “What should I reply with?”

Alastor turned the page and hummed a reply, “Finders Keepers.”

ᡣ𐭩ˋ°•*⁀➷ masterlist

∰ Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult (general tag list):

@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei , @wettiny-in-smutland , @moonmark98 , @hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain , @harley2223-blog , @coffee-colored-hopeless-romantic , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima , @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby , @dontfuckbutimfab , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 , @star-kujo-platinum ,

@ivebeenthearchersstuffn, @rubyninja1 , @simphornies , @alleystore , @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog , @thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @psipies , @howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf , @ive-no-idea-what-to-call-this , @fizzled-phoenix , @fjorjestertealeaf , @phobophobular , @surusurusuru , @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 , @whateverlololo , @simplyonehellofanotaku , @xixflower , @i-am-nonbinary-bean-deal-with-it , @roxxie-wolf , @a-case-of-attachment , @multifandomfanatic02 , @watereddownmilk , @raynerrold , @crazii-saber-wolf , @valkyrie-expeditions , @bontensbabygirl , @sillyb0nez , @oo0lady-mad0oo , @jazzmasternot , @pseudobun , @fraugwinska✨, @alitaar , @straows , @alastorssimp , @angelicwillows , @b-o-n-e-daddy , @one-and-only-tay , @asleeponelmstreet , @tremendoushearttaco , @mutifandomkid , @sapphirecaelis , @itzzzkiramylove @saccharine-nectarine , @viannasthings , @looking1016 , @ultimate-duck-king-lucifer , @blakeaha , @astraechos , @reath-solia ,

🏹Alastor stalkers: @celestial-vomit , @amurtan

@faeoffaith , sailorsmouth , @jeannyjaykaydeh , @jyoongim , @cosmic-lavender , @saturn-alone , @lustylita , @radio-darling , @kaylopolis , @dickmastersworld , @leviskittywh0re

@asianfrustration13 @alittletiredcry @sirens-and-moonflowers @alastorssimp

@sugurubabe , @zzzykiek , @phamtasic

#alastor smut #alastor #alastor x you #hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin alastor #alastor x reader smut

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peachkkuma · 1 year ago

Text

ᰍִ ۫͟ ͟ ☁️ ִ✧ 𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐅𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐌𝐘 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄

hello, I’m Tiffany and this is my manifestation diary! If you haven’t read my previous diary entries yet, recently I’ve come to the realization that I’ve overcome all of my obstacles and there truly is nothing in my way except for me. So I made the decision yesterday to put my foot down and take the leap of faith, in other words, stop putting off manifesting my dream life because of fear. now this account will hold not just my diary entries but also the documentation of my journey to finally and seriously manifest my dream life.

╰┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄ ♡ ♡ ♡ 05.21.2024

let’s begin!

ㅤㅤㅤ𝐈. ⊰ ۫ 🐻‍❄️ ◌ ִ �� ˑ DEFINING THE OBJECTIVE

I want to make the end goal a bit more clear, the term dream life is both pretty straightforward and a bit vague. what would I like my dream life to include? how would my dream life make me feel? and ofc, I’m not just manifesting my dream life, I’m manifesting my dream self. what would my self concept be? how would I like to be?

tiffany’s dream life check list - what it means to live my dream life

attend my dream school

be 100% perfectly healthy (physically, mentally, emotionally, in every way basically)

have good eating habits and a good relationship with food

have perfect straight A pluses (revision to previous grades as well)

have the perfect friend group for me

healthy, super soft, hydrated, moisturized, smooth clear skin (and elimination of acne genes) (body + face)

perfect tangle free hair at all times, pretty, voluminous, bombshell hair

a healthy, perfect, loving relationship with everyone in my family

own a super cute and fluffy golden retriever puppy

high paying jobs for my parents <3

have a rolls royce with a pink exterior

grow taller

have every single clothing item I’ve saved on Pinterest

have my YouTube channel blow up

complete head to toe desired appearance

desired lifestyle

perfect eyesight

be super good at makeup and have all desired products

have a gorgeous bedroom

have a very active and lively social life

have the perfect, most ideal school, social, and home life

completely healed phone addiction

have a lot of desired hobbies that I’m very good at

have a fun and eventful life, always have fun plans and something going on

be on the right track career-wise

elimination of social anxiety and shyness

high self esteem and confidence

be more in touch with my culture

be a complete master at manifestation

huh, this is shorter and less serious than I thought it’d be, ig this was also a way of getting out of my own head. I thought manifesting my dream life would be a bit challenging for some reason, but ig a dream life rlly isn’t as complex as I thought it was. I mean now I feel silly, it’s just a dream life! nothing more than a lifestyle and a few personal fixes. I feel like I just got humbled.

𝐈𝐈. ʚ ⊹ ִ⏲️ 𑁯͟ ɞ THE OUTLINE

alright, I know what I want and I know how manifestation works. but just to make sure I don’t over complicate anything or things dont get confusing, I’ll create a sort of plan or outline. Little steps I can fall back on if I get a bit lost.

step number one we have covered, have a desire

step number two, put your foot down and make the firm decision that you have it. this decision is for good, nothing u do can take this decision away so don’t u dare worry about “ruining progress” or “messing up”— u’re better than that.

step number three, once you’ve decided it’s done, it’s done. the only and I mean it when I say only thing for you to do is to act like it. imagine you, the creator of your reality, making the decision that you have something only to then be like “is it coming?” “do I have it?” BE FR!! act like you have it, think like you have it, and see the world as if you have it— because you do. you decided you did, didn’t u? It’s ur reality, what u say, goes. and no, you’re not acting like u have it to get something out of the 3D, you’re doing it for your sanity. Because you deserve a break, you deserve relief, you deserve to be the you that has it all!! let yourself be in the sowf because why shouldn’t u be certain you have it? don’t entertain anything that says u don’t. getting in the sowf is easy, u deciding u have it is all the confirmation u need. there’s no reason for u to not be certain u have it.

sowf = knowing that u have it

step number four, optional not necessary but it’s really gonna help and is fun. immerse yourself in the new story. experience it!! have fun!! u finally got what u want, u finally r who u want to be, so choose to live that life!! try methods for the sake of fulfilling urself (never to make anything appear in the 3D, u know better, 3D desperation doesn’t get anybody anywhere.) try out methods to have fun and be more familiar with having what u want.

that’s it girl, that’s all u gotta do, that’s all u ever had to do. decide it, experience it, assume it. u don’t always have to feel “good” or “happy” u just have to know u have what u want, u just have to assume. the goal is to truly know that u have it, to be faced with the 3D and still know it in ur bones u have what u want. u deserve to trust urself like that, u deserve to be fulfilled like that, and u deserve those things from YOU not from the 3D. U deserve to feel secure in urself, don’t let ur security come from the 3D. loa bloggers mean it when they say the materialization is simply the cherry on top and I get that now. For me, it’s about being able to depend and trust urself, to rely on urself, and in that way everything else comes off the pedestal.

✉️ : ahhh I forgot to finish up this post yesterday but here it is!! I’m so excited!! part two to come soon ♡

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calicoheartz · 1 year ago

Note

please please write a smut fic inspired by that that pic of caitlin with her hair wet 🙏🙏

Wild & Wet ; Caitlin Clark ᶻz

꣑୧ — summary | cait w wet hair makes u go absolutely feral !

wc ; 891

— warnings | NSFW under the cut! read ur own risk ! ab riding , dirty talk , scissoring, etc

my master list ㇀♡

a/n : tysm for all the love on my last cc nsfw fic ! tried to make this one a little bit more interesting for yall, enjoy !

There was something about your girlfriend with wet hair that made you go absolutely feral. You didn’t know how to even explain, there was just something about it that gave you a little problem that only she could fix.

So it wasn’t surprising that when Cait came back from a victorious win , she would hop in the shower and go about her entire self care routine, one of which involved her washing her luscious locks.

This didn’t concern you, I mean you loved the way your girlfriend smelt after a shower. It was what came after that concerned you.

She kissed your forehead gently, mumbling a “im gonna go shower and then im all yours,” you nodded at this, as the brunette turned away and headed towards your shared bathroom.

Around 30 minutes later, you heard the water shut off, and a pair of familiar footsteps headed towards your bedroom, with the door creaking slightly as it was opened.

You wished you could save this moment forever, the sight of your girlfriend standing in the doorway with a towel wrapped around her neck, her hair wet and sticking to her face slightly, as she adorned her signature black sports bra and matching sweats.

You grinned at her slightly, as she plopped onto the space beside you, immediately bringing your face to hers as she began to softly pepper your face with kisses. You took this as an opportunity to crawl into her lap, facing her directly as silence followed.

Your hands planted on her chest, palms accidentally pressed against her nipples as you try to gain more leverage. You looked at her with a loving gaze, as the brunette gives you a smirk in reply. “Someone missed me.” she chirped, causing a pink haze to form on your cheeks, as her hands made their way to your sides. Moving them up and down lovingly, earning a whimper from you.

Your head drops slightly, eyes screwed shut as you rock your hips back and forth slowly. Your arousal glistening on her skin, leaking through the grooves of her abs. The prettiest sounds fall from your mouth as she gently massages your thighs that are pressed against the sides of her torso.

“Yeah. Yeah, just like that. Yeah, keep moving your hips like that. Youre so fucking pretty-ohmyfuckinggod” the brunette mumbles out, her voice low and raspy from her own wetness pooling inside her.

Your whimpers progressively getting louder and louder as you torturously overstimulated yourself on your girlfriends abs.

Cait quickly flips you over onto your back, her tall frame towering over you as she asks, “are you going to be a good girl and let me do whatever I want to you?” you not eagerly at this, desperate for any friction against your cold, anything to solve the mess happening in your panties.

She tugs at your panties, giving her a nod of approval, she slowly slips them off you and discards them somewhere in your shared bedroom.

The brunette slowly opens your legs, and situates herself on top of you, discarding her own boxers in the process.

She begins slowly rubbing her pretty clit against yours, as she watched in awe how drunk you were from it. So so so submissive for her, being such a good girl for her as she took your tongue in her mouth, engaging in a deep but fiery kiss. “Mm…cait-” you said, pornographic moans escaping your lips as you gripped her shoulders, grinding against her.

“Hm? What is it my sweet girl?” her voice traveling through your ears, making you wetter by the way she spoke. “Feels s’good ohmygoddd” – “I know, you make me feel just as good- fuck”, your exchange cut off by how horribly sloppy the situation was, you were horribly wet. Embarrassing actually. But you couldn’t help it, she looked so good. With her hair down, a few strands sticking to her forehead as her pretty lips parted to let out the cutest and muffled sounds. She looked so good, her muscular arms flexing as she holds herself up, continuing to massage her pussy against yours.

Less than two minutes later you feel your orgasm approaching, as juices bursted out of you so quickly, you could no longer tell which belonged to you.

Caitlin licks her lips as she sees your face contorting with pleasure as she helps you ride out your high, as you throw your head back and groan.

“Good job, baby.” Caitlin says between breaths as she climbed off your shared bed, walking over to the dresser to steady yourself. You laid flat on the bed, reminiscing on the best orgasm of your life, staring at your beautiful girlfriend. The brunette gathers her breath, and turns to face you, her goddess-like build flooding your line of sight. She smirks, before walking over back to the bed as she takes your hand, kisses it gently, and smiles back at you.

“Such a good girl for me, you did so well” she soothes, as you roll over closer to her. She climbs into the bed fully and holds you in her arms, as you laid there in silence, resting your head on her chest. You lean in for a kiss, as the brunette mumbles out a tired “I love you”, you giggle in between kisses,

“I love you more.”

what it finna play?? WOAHHHH !!!! probably my favorite nsfw/suggestive fic to date. Chefs kiss ! As always , tysm for reading 💌

#wlw #wlw imagine #wcbb #my hcs #wcbb x reader #headcannons #caitlin clark #caitlin clark x reader #caitmylove #caitlin clark smut #wlw smut #lesbian #uconn vs iowa #iowa women’s basketball #iowa hawkeyes #iowa wbb #22

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eclipseiz · 7 months ago

Text

Twin Thrones

pairing- caracalla x fem! oc x geta

(♡ synopsis)- calista amulis was determined to get her brother back, no matter the cost. even if that means she had to cozy up with the emperor's to do it.

part 1 of ?

please note...

✧ this is set PRE gladiator 2 as the story progresses it might dabble in the beginning but that's about it.

✧caracalla will not have syphilis in this story, he'll just be a crazy freak.

✧this story is gonna be dirty and raw (lol) so 18+

_✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩_

Calista Amulis was set on saving her brother, Caius from Rome the moment she had heard he’d been sold to them.

The sun beat down relentlessly as she leapt from the boat, the heat biting into her skin, but it was nothing compared to the fire that fueled her every movement. She darted away, her heart pounding with urgency, desperate to stay ahead of the soldier she had seduced only hours before for the free ride to Rome. She had played her part well, weaving the web of deception so carefully. She stumbled upon a young woman walking with a basket filled with what looked like bread, “Pardon me!” she called out making the woman turn around

“Yes?” the woman raised an eyebrow

Calista looked around and leaned in closer, “Do you know who I can talk to in regards to the Gladiators?”

She seemed to think for a moment before answering, “Macrinus would be your gentleman. He buys them up the moment they touch Roman soil. If I were to guess I'd say he's in his office near the Gladiators cells just down there.” she pointed down a dusty stairway to the right of the Colosseum.

With a quick ‘thank you’ Calista began down the path coming across a bustling corridor with training men she assumed to be the gladiators and guards. “What's your business here girl?” a bald man walked over to her.

“I'm looking for a man named Macrinus, is he here?” she asked folding her hands together

He grunted and began walking, commanding her to follow him with a wave of his hand. She moved with him until they stood in front of an archway, “Sire this girl here has a few words for you.”

Calista stepped into the room and watched as Macrinus gave her a once over, “Thank you Viggo you may return to the floor.” After the guard had retreated, Macrinus leaned back and clasped his hands together, “Well why have you come to see me…?” he requested her name.

She moved to sit at a chair in front of the desk, “Calista. My brother was sold to you after our city was attacked and I would like for you to release him. I'll give you anything you require.”

Macrinus tilted his head before letting out a laugh, “Silly girl, who knows if your brother is still alive.”

“Caius. His name is Caius.” she urged

The man thought for a moment, “Ah yes ‘Cyclops’. Quite the fighter…managed to lose his eye during his first fight here.”

Her face flashed with worry, “He’s still standing then?”

“For now.” Macrinus answered with a shrug. He got up from his seat over to where he had a glass of wine, “I know what you can do for me.”

Calista straightened her posture and put her confident mask in place, “Anything.”

The older man hummed, “I'm sure you’ve heard of the emperors Geta and Caracalla from wherever you have come from?”

“The twin tyrants?”

His lips twitched, “Correct. I want to take them down and I had no way of doing so until now. You are a pretty girl, Calista, just their type…”

She furrowed her brows, “I am not following.”

“The emperors are young fragile men. Just the kind who can be turned agaisnt each other when it comes to a young beautiful woman.” he handed her a cup half full of the alcohol.

She swirled the liquid in the cup, “You want me to seduce them? Both of them? How do you suppose I got close enough to do that?”

“I can handle that without fretting. Though you will need to wear something of more taste.” he gestured to her raggedy dress which she had been wearing for days.

Calista stood, setting the cup back down, “And after I somehow manage to pin them against one another, what after?”

Marcinus took the girl's face in his hands, “I'll take over from there. You'll find I can be very persuasive.”

She scoffed, “And you'll let my brother go?”

He gives her a pat on the cheeks before backing away, “If all goes to plan then yes. Caius will be freed.”

“And if it doesn't?” she anxiously questioned

“Then you'll most likely die at the hands of the emperors.” he shrugged like it was nothing.

Calista let out a breath of air before slowly nodding, “Fine I'll do it.”

“Wonderful!” Macrinus beamed, his smile wide and full of triumph, as though he'd just secured a victory in a game of great importance. “I can arrange for you to meet them as soon as tomorrow. But first, let me tell you a little about them.” He leaned back in his chair, his fingers tapping on the edge of his desk as he considered the task at hand. “Geta is the older twin,” he began, his tone steady and assured. “He’s the one I consider the true leader. Handles most of the imperial duties, keeps things running smoothly. He's a sharp, methodical person who expects loyalty, and demands it. He’s the one you’ll have to watch closely.” Macrinus paused, rocking back slightly, as though trying to find the right words for the next part. "Caracalla, on the other hand..." He shook his head, a flicker of something between amusement and disbelief crossing his face. "Crazy, to put it lightly. He's unpredictable, impulsive and makes decisions on a whim, often with disastrous results. He'll be the easy one to handle, no doubt. But it’s Geta you need to worry about." He sat forward, his gaze sharpening. "Geta is the real challenge. If you can get to him, take him down, the rest will fall into place.”

She regarded Macrinus for a moment, her expression calm but calculating. "I see," she said slowly, her voice smooth and confident.

Macrinus tipped his head, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "I'll have my servant prepare your bath, clothes, everything. If all goes well with the twins tomorrow, they'll likely request a room for you at their palace."

She blinked, a furrow of confusion crossing her brow. "Wait, hold on," she said, her voice calm but edged with uncertainty. "Just like that? They’ll let me in? You make it sound almost too easy."

“It’s not as difficult as you’re making it sound,” he said, his tone calm and reassuring. “The twins are accustomed to intrigue and manipulation, but they both believe in appearances. A beautiful, well-dressed woman appearing as if by chance? They’ll think nothing of it. The way you present yourself will make all the difference.” He paused, watching her carefully. “Don’t overthink it. If you act confident, poised, and play to their egos, they’ll let you in without a second thought.

She chuckled sarcastically, the tension in her expression easing for a moment. "Let's hope I'm as good of an actor as I've been told then." Her voice was dry, but there was a flicker of determination beneath it.

“Cordelia!” Macrinus called for his servant. “I'll have her get you cleaned up. Get a good night's rest and get ready for tomorrow.”

“If sleep can even call upon me.” With that, she exited, the weight of what was to come settling on her shoulders. Tomorrow would tell whether the pieces would fall into place or whether she'd be walking into a trap.

_✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩_

check out my masterlist pinned on my profile

#gladiator 2 smut #gladiator smut #carcalla #emperor geta #emperor caracalla #macrinus #gladiator ii #gladiator movie #emperor geta smut #emperor Caracalla smut #emperor geta x oc #emperor caracalla x oc

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xxsyluslittlecrowxx · 18 days ago

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⋆｡˚✶ masterlist — sylus ⋆｡˚✶

❝ who would pull out a sword to save a monster?❞

✧ a complete guide to my Sylus collection: stories of longing, ruin, restraint—and the one man you would still choose in every timeline.

✧ one-shots ✧

➤ home. almost. he cooks for you. he lets you dance in his arms. he pretends it’s nothing. ☁︎ domestic fluff | slow burn | quiet longing | 4.6k

➤ the observer. he shouldn’t watch. she shouldn’t know. but some confessions slip through the static anyway. ☁︎ voyeurism | surveillance tension | slow unraveling | 2.3k

➤ shame. i liked you better undone. she’s studying. he’s losing his mind. and every correct answer undoes a button. ☁︎ domestic tension | academic seduction | reverent smut | 7.3k

➤ tender gravity. she wakes in pain. he carries her through it—tea, towels, reverence, and soaked clothes in the bath. ☁︎ chronic illness | domestic intimacy | poetic angst | 5.2k

➤ valleydream bloom. at the edge of the world, among dragon bones, he confesses he no longer wants to die alone. ☁︎ angst | poetic prose | reincarnation | 700 words.

➤ and he wept upon her altar. he shows up at her door, soaked in rain and regret. she lets him in anyway. ☁︎ angst | canon-divergent | reverent smut | 5.3k

➤ before the light breaks. you remember your past life. he remembers the one he failed to save. ☁︎ angst | reincarnation | 3.2k

➤ for crown. for ruin. one letter. one night. one final act of rebellion before duty calls her away. ☁︎ angst | canon-divergent | forbidden love | poetic smut | 5.9k

➤ on the rocks. she came in wearing silk and silence. he poured her a martini—and nearly lost his composure. ☁︎ bartender AU | psychological tension | slow-burn | 4.4k

➤ contact: HUSBAND 💍💢 (DO NOT OPEN) he asks what you saved him as. you dodge. he lets you—for now. but when your phone lights up mid-breakfast… he sees it. and he never lets things go. ☁︎ fluff | mutual pining | comedic tension | "girlfailure" MC | 3.5k

✧ multi-part ✧

➤ the mercy that devours us both. a sword. a girl. a monster. none of them end the way they were meant to. ☁︎ angst | reincarnation | canon-divergent | gladiator!sylus | 4k+

✧ in progress ✧

➤ three times sylus suppressed his desire to have you, and one time he didn't. restraint can be holy. or it can be hell. ☁︎ slow burn smut | canon-divergent | size kink |

➤ a name he thought he'd never earn their child says “papa” for the first time. it shouldn’t hurt like this. it shouldn’t heal like this, either. ☁︎ angst | fatherhood | emotional softness | post-canon |

➤ the cup's still in the microwave you forgot the tea. again. he remembers—because you’re his favorite routine. ☁︎ adhd!reader | fluff |

➤ even if you burn me he teaches you to hold your power. you teach him to bear its cost. and when you shatter, he stays. not to fix you—but to burn beside you. ☁︎ angst | power awakening | hurt/comfort | emotional intimacy |

♡ taglist is open!

want to be notified when i post new writing? just reply or drop me an ask and i’ll add you to the list!

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace sylus #l&ds sylus #lnds sylus #lads sylus #sylus #sylus qin #sylus love and deepspace #sylus masterlist #navigation #love and deepspace masterlist #masterlist

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mitsua · 4 months ago

Text

warnings: love obsession, mentions of blood and weapons, invading reader's privacy

reader's g/n

a side character on an otome game that is about a kinda apocalypse going on in the world.

you obviously get choices every now and then, but you have to be extra careful because you could die with any wrong answer (even with some dialogues you may get with the love interests.)

so, this side character is one of the love interest's enemies and has to fulfill the role as a 'bully'. however, it somehow developed more code lines than any other character on the game, giving him the opportunity to be more observant than the others, have the consciousness to remember how many times you've died because you got on a bad route and so on.

the game itself has had its ending far long ago, the developers had announced there won't be sequels as they think one game has been more than enough and they feel proud with the story's ending and the high quality of the art as well. so yeah, you get to finish the whole game, unlocking each of the five possible routes—plus the deseasing and neutral ones.

you felt satisfied when you ended it and after giving yourself a break from the game for a couple of months, you missed some of the characters' lines and downloaded it once more for a 'warning' screen to pop up when you tried to log in with the account you saved your whole progress.

you panicked, of course, you've spent lots of time collecting the gems that were needed to select certain options and breaking your brain to remember the correct answers to not die.

after a couple of exchanged messages with the support team line the game had attached in case anything like that happened, you got your account back.

"you're finally back?! you went a long time to collect those groceries, you know? were the markets that far?"—one of the love interests' lines as a comeback.

oh yes, how you missed those dorky boys.

as you started going chapter through chapter, your phone glitched from two to three times whenever you tapped for an answer 'weird' you thought, but nothing seemed out of normal with the storyline.

when you saw your clock hit 2 a.m. you turned off your phone and went hurriedly to sleep for the next day. little did you know a character could now think for his own and move within the basement's programmed walls for all he wanted.

you spent more nights playing, oblivious to the fact that Zander could now navigate your whole phone if he wanted, his wandering eyes codes widening collecting more and more with all he learnt about you. getting obsessed with you and the fact that his miserable world was definitely not only that, but there was a whole new world were it seemed to be peaceful as your photos on cafés and school showed him to be like.

he wanted to be there, he wanted to be with you.

the next day's night after he decided he'd do anything to get with you, you opened the app to find one of the most gruesome 'welcome back!' scenes you've thought you'd ever see.

the love interests' blood-covered dismembered bodies were all over the basement you'd find later on the story, still—there was no sight of a zombie that could've do something like that to them, and even if there was; there were two reasons you were sure this was some kinda glitch or virus;

the love interests do not die at the end, only when you choose incorrectly but never in the basement.

not even zombies would get them that messed up... they would bite them and may be even get some flesh out of their arms, but there were cuts that didn't seem to be caused by claws, but more like by knifes or swords.

then you picked up on a bloody message being chaotically written in the wall behind all the chaos.

"will you look only at me now?"

here's my yandere OC's m.list if you wanna read more! remember you can ask to be tagged at any of the fandoms i write for ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡

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wandasaura · 2 months ago

Text

THIS PHASE IS GONNA FLY BY

summary — it won’t be like this forever, one day we’ll be looking back laughing at the week we brought her home. this phase is gonna fly by, so baby just hold on. it won’t be like this for long.

warning(s) — established relationship, coworkers to friends to lovers, happily ever after relationship, step-parent relationships, blended family, parenting, toddlers, pregnancy, cravings, hormones, maternity leave, childbirth, moving in, domestic fluff, newborn bliss, southern accents, kid shit, light canon typical content/discussions, discussions of marriage, pet names, kissing, crying, high emotion situations, melinda warner saves your ass because she’s like that, comfort/fluff

authors note — happy mother’s day ♡ some soft mom moments with rollins to keep with the spirit. third instillation of the grace of sourthern charm. can be read independently !! part one. part two.

You should’ve felt guilty for abusing your recently acquired position as Jesse’s emergency contact at daycare, and for telling Amanda that you had a busy day in the lab and couldn’t meet her for your routine coffee lunch date at one, which at this rate, is becoming an iced tea and chocolate covered pretzel date as cravings and hormones rage inside of her swollen body. But you don’t in the slightest, enjoying the kiss of Tuesday sunshine on your cheeks as you conquer the streets of Manhattan with both of your hands occupied and your location turned off on your phone. You’re forever thankful that Mercy continues to be negligent with their choice of service provider, because more often than not your lab is a dead zone and Amanda’s phone doesn’t ping with your location regardless.

The finish line is coming up quickly, even if most of the hours in the day feel agonizingly long. Your workload hasn’t dwindled with the progression of Amanda’s pregnancy, but it feels like the hours are taunting you, and no amount of paperwork or autopsies could uphold your frivolous anxious excitement.

It’s been four blissful months as an official couple with Amanda. A rewarding five months just having her in your back pocket at all. She’d seemed so far along in her pregnancy when you first crossed the line between co-workers and friends. You remember how her bump had looked so rounded as it strained against her button down, but it doesn’t even hold a candle to the current thirty-eight weeks bump she carries. She wobbles when she walks, huffs for breath after traveling only a handful of steps, and there’s no chance she can put her shoes on without sitting down and even then it still takes three full minutes.

You’d forgotten how slow pregnancy moved when your due date approached — you’d forgotten how agonizing it felt in general if you were being honest. Amanda had too. It had been four years since either of you had been pregnant, and hormones are cruel visitors that alter perception before they vanish. She’d cursed beneath her breath two weeks ago during dinner, looking down at her belly that was jumping with the baby's active movements, with a look of horror on her face. She’d been stone serious when she’d told you there was still another five weeks until any of this felt worth it. Another thirty five days until the bassinet at her bedside was useful and not just a tripping hazard she hadn’t readjusted to yet. She could only smile in sympathy and squeeze her hand, because nothing you said would remove the baby in her womb and transfer it to yours. Amanda’s not your wife, you hadn’t even talked about it, but you live by the motto ‘happy wife, happy life’ and shutting up when your advice would only be counterproductive is a key step to uphold.

You haven’t officially moved into her place, nor she hasn’t officially moved into yours, but your lives are essentially split down the middle at this point, and most mornings feature a phone call that consists of, ‘Can you bring this with you, this demon child apparently left it at your place four days ago and just realized’. But it also consists of late night selfies of Amanda in your sweatpants.

The relationship with your girls was only further thriving the more you entangled your lives. Jesse — who was admittedly not a great shared — knew what to expect when Loretta came barreling into the apartment, and your daughter, who was about as territorial as a guard dog when she was cranky, had all but abandoned throwing any semblance of a fit when she realizes you’re giving Jesse attention. They fight like sisters, and while it’s probably the biggest sign of success that they can go from hitting and pulling hair to playing Barbies, you and Amanda are losing your minds trying to keep score of who starts things. Usually it comes down to the fact that both of them are stubborn carbon copies of the both of you.

You hadn’t talked about what was going to happen once the baby arrived — the baby who still didn’t have a name, and was permanently called ‘baby’ by every member of yours and Amanda’s family unit — and the closer the due date came, it weighed on your mind more and more. It felt like belittling her capabilities to suggest temporarily moving in and helping out. She’d prepped for Jesse and then raised her alone just like you had with Loretta, but at the same time, she’s your girlfriend, you are more than willing to accept this baby as your own like you’d done with Jesse already, like she’d down with Loretta, it doesn’t feel like much of an overstep to consider she’d want you there with her.

Loretta would be over the moon to move in with Amanda and Jesse for at least the first week after the baby arrives. She and Jesse are two peas in a pod, so much so that they’ve begun to believe they’re sisters like Elsa and Anna. You and Amanda haven’t corrected them either. You know they’ll occupy each other far better than any new toy could, and that’s probably more beneficial than a second set of hands for one little baby. You consider lending her Etta for the week, but then you remember that tacks Amanda with three kids under six and puts her right back in a position of potentially needing you around. You really hope she wants you around.

You never dropped Loretta off at school this morning like you’d told Amanda, but you’d still woken her up at the same time and took advantage of your intimate hours together before you planned to steal Jesse from daycare. You had breakfast at her favorite cafe, ordered two chocolate croissants and strawberry pineapple smoothies, and talked about the Kindergarten drama until your bellies were full and Amanda was safely at the precinct, already tied up in a case; indicative of the text that read, ‘busy day. see you later <3’.

She had let you pick her outfit when you’d told her it was a fair trade for missing school, and you’d chosen something sensible for the activities you had planned, which was shopping and more shopping. There were three different stores you wanted to hit, all preferably before Jesse’s afternoon nap that she was on and off taking. That was a hopeful, very unlikely expectation, but your second hope was just that you made it home before Amanda.

The pasty green of her t-shirt sticks out like a store thumb against the constraint of neutral tones and metal that makes up the majority of Manhattan, and that had been exactly what you were going for. It just so happens her new favorite shirt is black, and you could only fear trying to explain to an officer your typical five-year-old had wandered off in a black shirt like every other body on the street. At least now you could call Amanda and say she was in the green shirt from Target that said ‘love my mom a bunch’ with four white flower silhouettes. You can also tell her that Jesse’s wearing a pink ‘Most Amazing Sister’ shirt. You’d always been perceptive, but a third of the year with Manhattan’s finest had definitely further sparked your caution and attentiveness.

Over the last four months, Amanda’s slowly put together the nursery and gone through all of Jesse’s old clothes, but you keep trying to remind her that she’s neglecting herself, but it doesn’t seem to register in her head that not a single thing has been done with her in mind. She kept the rocking chair from Jesse’s pregnancy, even though she recounted how it wasn’t the most supportive on her lower back. She bought a new crib, and a second changing table because Jesse’s has been converted into a dresser until the inevitable ‘big girl’ room makeover happens. She wanted a pink diaper bag she saw on a street corner when she was taking the girls for ice cream one night, but she’d said the price point had been ridiculous for the timeframe of its usage and had left it behind. She didn’t see the point in maternity pictures, not when you always had a camera or your phone in hand capturing the moments that truly mattered to her, and when you’d proposed getting her a new necklace for mother’s day that had two birthstones, she’d told you it was probably for the better you didn’t given they were wrapped up in a nasty case and it would either never be worn or broken and tarnished in the bloodbath that spilled onto the streets and her hands.

You wanted to get her something. You’d gotten the baby too many things because tiny clothes and little bows are too adorable to pass up, and Etta’s crossed over from the toddler/baby section into the big kid section even if you’d begged she never would, but that was as good as showing up after the delivery and only asking about the baby in your mind. You figured this was a good opportunity for Jesse to pick out a present too, because you’re not sure if Amanda’s ever received one from her daughter that she’s not picked out and paid for herself. Loretta’s never gotten to surprise you with anything either, but it’s not the time to dwell on her misfortunes in life.

Jesse walks briskly at your side, not because she’s in any rush to get to the boutique you asked them both to look out for, but because your strides are twice the length of hers, and she’s determined to keep up on her own. Loretta’s skipping beside her, her jumps and jerks pulling your arm, but she’s keeping up quick with that routine and somehow she’s avoided getting in any passer-bys way. It’s been a relatively quiet walk, Jesse and Loretta both distracted by the skyscrapers and the supposed yellow awning they were looking out for.

You could see it, just around the corner, but you can’t help but think that their view is blocked by torsos and heads they can’t see around or over. Being little has its perks, like sleeping in any position and cramming yourself into any random nook or cranny, but you think you’d hate being three foot seven as a full grown adult with places to be.

“I found it!” Jesse shrieks, and Loretta scours to find it too, her head craning and her eyes scanning for anything even slightly yellow. She explodes when she finally sees it sandwiched between two green awnings, pulling you along with her as she paves a path toward the store.

“Hold on, hold on.” You laugh softly, easing her back into a natural pace as you sweet Jesse up onto your hip, not wanting to risk her getting caught up in pedestrian traffic if Etta takes off unexpectedly again. “We’re gonna get Mama and Ms. Amanda a present. If you don’t see anything here that you like, we’re gonna go to two more stores.” You tell both girls, laying out your plans clearly, this way nobody can pitch a fit and say they didn’t know what to expect. It’s futile half the time, but when it does work in your favor, all the angels sing a song of peace.

“Can we get a present too?!” Loretta beams, and you could’ve expected that response with or without Jesse tagging along, so you shake your head with an amused smile.

“We’re not here for toys. We’re here for Ms. Amanda. Well look for toys to add to your Christmas List next week.” You tell her, because you need to get a few things for her school year still, and there’s no harm in browsing the toy aisle to save yourself the headache in December.

She shrugs, easily accepting that answer, and Jesse’s the same on your hip, swinging her little feet that now have the same sneakers on as Loretta. You laugh, remembering the meltdown that had occurred from Jesse when she realized Loretta’s light up shoes were ‘cooler’. Thankfully, though rarely do the cards alight so perfectly, kids grow like weeds, and she’d needed a new pair regardless. She thinks she won, but really Amanda just narrowly avoided a fit about what the new shoes would look like. You’ll never understand why they limit releases and discontinue kids clothes and products when they’re some of the most incessant and unrelenting little creatures with big opinions.

“Is it Ms. Amanda’s birthday?” Loretta questions, and it dawns on you that neither of them have any knowledge that having a baby is hard work for your body and your mind, or that sometimes people give new mothers gifts because it is so hard to do what they’ve done. You’re happy to be the one to teach them this, feeling more than rewarded that you’re in a position to raise the next generation.

“No, but Ms. Amanda has a baby in her belly, and sometimes that can feel pretty icky like when your tummy hurts. And when the baby gets here, she’s going to cry a lot and Ms. Amanda’s gonna be super tired, so we get presents that she’ll like, and make yummy dinners so that she has something nice, and she feels appreciated. Everyone wants to feel appreciated, even Mommies.” You tell them both, and they both nod dutifully, listening to your every word.

“Can we make Ms. Amanda dinner?! I know how to make peanut butter jelly!” Etta beamed and Jesse gasped, her little head bobbing up and down in agreeable excitement.

“I know too! I can help!” She grinned and you officially couldn’t say no, so you desperately hoped Amanda still had grape jelly in her fridge and your peanut butter and jelly sandwich dinner didn’t turn into just peanut butter.

“I think that’s a perfect idea.” You nod and both girls are pleased with your acceptance of their plan, enough so that you manage to get through the boutique in twenty minutes.

The diaper bag Amanda wanted was still on display by the window, and so you’d grabbed one first before you led Jesse and Loretta through the back corner, Jesse wanted to get Amanda a bracelet that had pink and purple beads, and you couldn’t have picked a more perfect present considering it was dainty and small enough to hide beneath a sleeve or be tucked into a pocket, and it was inexpensive enough that she wouldn’t think twice about wearing it to work or leaving it on display on her desk beside the lego duplo set.

Loretta hadn’t found anything she thought Amanda would like, but you’d reassured her that there were still two more stores on the list because she was out of options. You’d told her that sometimes you can’t buy someone the perfect gift, sometimes what you want to express can only come from the heart and the hands, so now you’ve been charged with finding time to make cards for Amanda too because you planted the idea in her and Jesse’s heads.

She did end up finding something though; a small bottle opener that was hung up by the register at the florist shop you’d made your final stop at, shopping bags hanging off your wrists when you’d swiped your card on the transaction for a bouquet of sunflowers. Loretta held onto the hem of your tank top, and Jesse held onto the belt loops on your denim shorts. Both of them knew if they took their hands off for any point other than to cover their mouth then they coughed, they’d be sitting down to have a lengthy conversation about street safety. You never thought you’d turn into this kind of parent, but you’ve seen things you couldn’t have even imagined before you had kids.

It’s four o’clock when you get back to Amanda’s apartment, turning the key in the door before Jesse and Etta whirled past you, shouting about how they needed to get crayons, and paper, and somebody needed to pee, and somebody’s belly was itchy. It was chaos, as it usually was, but you worked best beneath their wild noise.

You texted Amanda at four thirty that you’d picked up Jesse, sending a picture of both girls at the table with marker all over their hands and stickers on their faces, and Amanda had responded with a text that had more crying emojis than words. Her next text is a screenshot of her updated lockscreen and a promise to be home early considering it was her last day before maternity leave and Benson was committed to letting her off the clock early.

You responded with a cheerful okay, giving no indication that anything was out of the ordinary at home, and went back to wrapping and bagging the presents you’d collected on what Jesse coined a ‘Mama scavenger hunt’. You’d gotten her the diaper bag, filled it with snacks and chocolate bars from the convenience store down the block, a pair of pajamas that had been your favorite during the early days of postpartum and c-section recovery, and the bouquet of sunflowers that are already waiting for her in a vase by the front door.

You’ve overlooked the card station, washed three sets of hands, and laid out all the ingredients for peanut butter and jelly sandwiches on the counter when the front door opens. Jesse and Loretta are next to you, both of them standing on their own table chairs so they can see and reach over the counter, Your daughter holds a kids butter knife lathered in peanut butter, and Jesse has one with jelly. You look over your shoulder after you set a piece of bread in front of them each, hearing Amanda drop her keys and then the vase clank as she picks it up.

You smile when she comes into sight, waddling like a penguind and slightly dishelved from whatever she’d gotten up to with the squad today. She’s smiling already, but everything about her deflates and brightens when she takes in the sight of the diaper bag on the table and a wrapped box sitting next to it. The table is still a mess or markers and crayons, folded and crumpled paper everywhere, stickers on things that you’re never going to be able to get them off of, but the stick figure if an orange woman holding a yellow baby makes her smile, and her eyes sting with tears as she looks at you.

“Happy Baby Day!” Loretta explodes and both you and Amanda trail your gaze to her, wondering if she can sense something you can’t in the quiet of the apartment.

“Happy Baby Day!” Jesse parrots, jumping on the chair in excitement. Your hand juts out in an instance, grabbing the knife from her before it can fall on her naked feet even if it is just dull plastic.

“Careful, honey.” You scold gently, concern lacing your features. Jesse only giggles, picking up the piece of bread she’s lathered in a despicable amount of jelly and proudly dropping it onto Loretta’s equally as messy slice. Yeah, you’ll definitely be making your own sandwich. “Baby Day’s when the baby comes. It’s not baby day, silly goose.”

“But…” Loretta frowns, and you can see the wheels turning in her head as she looks between you and Amanda like somebody is playing a cruel trick. “You said it’s not her birthday but there’s presents anyways.”

It clicks in your head. She’d accepted that it wasn’t Amanda’s birthday, but somewhere along the lines she’d begun to think that buying a pregnant woman a present equated to telling them Happy Baby Day the same way you tell someone happy birthday before you hand them a present.

“I guess it is kind of Happy Baby Day then, huh?” You ask, and Loretta nods. “Because you got a present. It’s a rule that you can’t give someone a birthday present without saying Happy Birthday first.” You fill Amanda in, and she smiles, digesting the explanation with an emotional swallow.

You step into her arms when she motions you close. She still smells like her perfume hours later, and it drives you crazy even if the last two weeks have been understandably dry. You hadn’t wanted anyone to even look at you, let alone touch you during the final stretch of pregnancy.

“I missed you today.” You tell her honestly, and Amanda sighs contently, like that’s the best thing she could’ve ever heard after coming home from a long day at work. You know it probably is. That it allows her to feel like she finally has a place in the world now that there’s you to miss and be missed from in her life.

“I missed you.” She kisses you sweetly while the girls are distracted, and you can assume that Jesse’s fingers are in the jelly jar because she’s suspiciously quiet and her kids knife is still in the hand that’s not rubbing Amanda’s back beneath her bra clasp. “I hope you’re hungry. PB&J’s for dinner.” You lick your lips teasingly, stepping away enough to give her full vision of the kids and their mess.

You grimace when you realize somebody grabbed the bag and took another slice of bread out, but you’re not entirely sure who, because the knife Etta had is being passed back and forth between them and the jars, and you know Amanda will be throwing both of them out later, but at the very least, they’re sharing.

“So that’s what smells so good! I’m starving!” Amanda grins, stalking up behind the girls and wrapping an arm around each of their waists. She kisses Loretta’s temple, and then Jesse’s cheek, laughing softly when Jesse holds up her demolished sandwich with holes oozing jelly.

“Look at my samich, Mama!” She grins, and Amanda fawns like it’s the most delicious sandwich she’s ever seen, all while reaching for a paper plate that she somehow gets beneath the bread before it slips from Jesse’s fingers.

“Why don’t you go sit down and tell me how yummy it is.” Amanda grinned, lifting Jesse off the chair and setting her down on her feet. The little blonde raced to the high top table, the one that wasn’t covered in crayons and paper, and climbed up the stool proudly.

Loretta was next to be removed from the workstation, skipping along to the table with her plate. There used to only be three chairs at the table. One had broken shortly after Amanda moved in, or at least that’s what she claimed when you questioned the odd number, and she’d never had any reason to get another one. She’s since ordered two more. One for you, and one to house the baby inside of her womb when she’s old enough. It’s the subtle planning for a long and healthy future together that gets you, that leads you to hope she’ll ask you to stay.

“It’s yummy, Mama!” Jesse yelled from the table, and Loretta followed suit, telling you that hers is ‘belicious’. You giggle, creeping up behind Amanda and wrapping your arms around her waist as she pulls out four slices of bread, reaching into the drawer and pulling out a sterling silver butter knife that wasn’t already lathered in jelly and peanut butter.

“I picked Jesse up from school early.” You admitted, and Amanda hummed, but the lack of inquisition made you frown. “You knew.” You accused, your fingers digging into her hips.

“Baby, I’m a detective. Of course I knew, and I think it’s very sweet.” She laughs, craning her head to kiss your cheek. “I was thinking about enrolling Jesse at Etta’s school. I mean, it’s closer, and we both leave to drop them off at the same time, this way we can switch off instead of running around like we’ve never done this before.”

“Etta would love that.” You giggle, and Amanda nods, knowing full and well that Loretta would absolutely adore every aspect of that situation, Jesse too.

“What would you think about that? And… maybe moving in? At least until Billie’s here. We can reevaluate after that. But… don’t go home tonight. Please? It’s my first night off the job and I want… I want to spend it as a family. With my family. You and Etta Lou, and Jesse. Spend the night? And just don’t leave.” There are tears gathering in her eyes, and she’s all but abandoned putting together the second peanut butter and jelly sandwich that’s sitting on the counter in favor of spinning in your grasp, lacing her fingers into the hem of the t-shirt as she looks at you with a bitten bottom lip.

“I think…that I’ve been waiting for you to ask me that question for weeks. I didn’t want to bring it up and insinuate that you weren’t capable of doing this on your own. Because I know that you are. I know you could make raising two kids alone look easy, but you don’t have to do that. I don’t want you to think that…that I don’t know what it means to be in this baby’s… wait did you say Billie?” Your eyes go wide, your hands flying to Amanda’s bump, tears sparkling in your own waterline now as the world stops spinning and the wet chewing sounds seize to reach your ears.

Amanda flushes, letting her hands fall on top of yours, her thumbs rubbing against the tops of your hands. “I thought about it today. It’s the only name I haven’t hated.”

“I like it. I think it fits perfectly with Jesse.” You grin, before your eyes glance down, a tear slowly falling down your face. “Hi, Billie.” You whisper to the bump, feeling oddly content now that you had a name to add onto your growing list of loved ones.

“And Loretta.” Amanda whispers, grasping your jaw with cold fingers and guiding your attention to her eyes. “I think it fits beautifully with Loretta too. Loretta, Jesse, and Billie. They’ll be the three musketeers if Jesse and Etta Lou don’t form an alliance before Billie can keep up with them.” She chuckles wetly, and the idea of your girls growing up together makes you want to weep even if you’re not the overly emotional pregnant one.

“They’re going to be trouble.” You grin, and Amanda laughs, the tears falling from her eyes now as she looks at you and thinks about how you seemed to have rehung her stars in such a short amount of time. You hadn’t done much other than be yourself, but that was just enough to turn any kind of day around.

“They already are. There’s jelly on the backsplash, and this one kept me up all night.” She pokes at her belly, wiping at her cheeks with a soft sniffle. You coo, cupping her cheeks with gentle palms, brushing your thumbs over the damn tear tracks.

You’re about to assure her that you’ll clean everything up while she takes a bath after you eat, but the shrill shriek of a child captures both of your attention. “Mommy come here!”

“Where’s the magic word?!” You gasp, eyes wide, your head whipping around to stare down the little terror that’s nearly demolished all of her sandwich in the time its taken Amanda to make both of yours. Loretta giggles, and Jesse’s little hand covers her mouth as her shoulders tremble with belly laughs.

“Pleaseeeee!” She grins, and you cave, picking up one of the plates from the counter and advancing toward the table, Amanda two steps behind you until she realized that none of you had grabbed a drink. She turned on her heels dramatically, only further fueling the giggles that were bouncing off the walls. It’s a miracle Jesse’s still considering all of you in her good graces right now considering Amanda had her up and out of the apartment at six in the morning and she’d missed any chance of a nap before bed.

“Can I ask you girls a question?” You ask gently, reaching across the table to grab Jesse’s arm when she leans too close to the edge of the chair, pulling her back into the center with a look that begs she stop fidgeting.

“Yes.” Jesse nods, taking one last bite of her sandwich. She ate it all, your daughter on the other hand has carefully nibbled her way around the crust, not daring to take even the slightest bite.

“I guess.” Loretta says, but the smile on her lips says she doesn’t fully recognize the impact of her chosen saying. You chose not to pay any attention to it right now, because nothing is going to pop the bubble you’re living in. Amanda wants you here. She wants you in Jesse and Billie’s life for the long haul. She wants to be in yours and Loretta’s life for the long haul.

“How would you feel about having a really long sleepover?” You posed the question as Amanda came back to the table, pinning two bottles of water to her chest while her left hand held two spill-proof cups by their silicone straws, what you assume is diluted apple juice sloshing around the mixed matched cups.

It feels like you’re back in college for a minute, eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for dinner with a bottle of poland springs water that hadn’t even made it into the refrigerator yet. But, this experience far surpasses any highlight from the first four years of your adulthood. It feels like just yesterday you were searching for something to fill the emptiness inside of you, and today you can’t even imagine not having anyone to text random thoughts to. Amanda’s changed your life for the better, but the changes never stop evolving with the season of life you’re in.

“For how many days?” Loretta’s more skeptical than Jesse. There’s eight months between them, and while it doesn’t show often, there are slight differences that have you mourning the loss of your daughter's childhood before it's even over. Jesse’s still blissfully trusting. You can convince her that the sun is green if you’re willful enough, but Loretta has her own skepticism now, her world opening up to more than just self-absorption and blind trust.

“Well, definitely until Billie gets here.” You reassure her, but your eyes drift to Amanda for a moment of confirmation, because you’d accidentally derailed the tail end of this conversation earlier.

”You would get to share a room!” Amanda’s eyes sparkle, and she knows she has both of the girls in the palm of her hand at that moment, because the idea of sharing a room is all that they talk about on the nights that you’ve previously spent together. Loretta thinks it's the coolest thing ever, and Jesse thinks the same though her exact words were, ‘it's funnest, mama’. Your admiration for her natural ability to speak to the kids in a way that they’ll understand has never dwindled, only grown as she learns more about your daughter and uses it to her advantage like a true detective. You can only imagine what this maternity leave is going to do to her. You can’t imagine going through another five weeks of bed rest, missing out on time in the lab and interesting autopsies, so you can only assume a detective temporarily off the beat is just as detrimental.

“Wait, who’s Billie?” Etta frowns, and Amanda laughs softly at the near identical reaction from your daughter. The corners of your lisp tug upwards, the same amused and adoring expression on your face.

“Well, I was thinking we could name the baby, Billie. Do you like that?” Amanda asks, and both girls nod their head rapidly, though you’re inclined to believe they would’ve agreed if Amanda suggested you name the baby Bob.

“Is Billie coming soon? Tomorrow?” Etta asked, evidently taking over for Jesse who was in her own little world sipping on her apple juice.

“Not tomorrow, but she’ll be here before Halloween.” Amanda laughs.

“I wanna be Ghost Spider!” Jesse bubbled, her eyes wide and her smile contagious as Loretta gasped, her hand flailing as she raised it up above her head, a habit she’d brought home from Kindergarten though she always shouts the answer out before you can call on her. You’re not sure how great of a listener she is at school by this demonstration, but you’ve never gotten an email home so you think she can’t be terribly unruly when you’re not around.

Dinner time ends ten minutes later, and Amanda opens her presents with the girls while you run the bathtub in the master bedroom and the shower in the hallway. If Loretta promises to leave the door open, because her favorite thing is to lock doors she knows she’s not supposed to, you’ve negotiated that she’s old enough to shower alone. You hadn’t expected this transition to be so hard, and even though she still needs help washing all of the shampoo out of her scalp, it feels like the last pieces of your baby are truly gone forever.

You bathe Jesse while Amanda takes off her work clothes and throws on the pajamas she only ever uses as an in between outfit for moments like this specifically. You stop by the bathroom Loretta’s occupying on your way back to the kitchen with a half asleep Jesse in your arms. It’s not a night where you’re going to lather her up with suds and bubbles, you're proud to see that she remembered to condition her hair without your reminder.

You kiss Amanda as she creeps back down the hallway to bathe the aches and knots in her lower back away, the pajamas you’d gotten her tucked beneath her arm. She kisses you sweetly, and then pecks Jesse’s head before she continues to waddle down the hallway, one hand supporting the underside of her bump while the other braced against the small of her back that spasmed unrelentingly. You smile as you watch her, because there’s no way you can’t.

“Do you want to watch Minnie?” You ask Jesse as you wander the kitchen, looking for nothing in particular but feeling like you can’t find anything you need. You eventually grab one of the cups with a suction stopper on the straw, because Jesse cannot be trusted with a cup of milk that leaks, and you fill it at the counter, listening to the sounds of Loretta jumping into the pajamas down the hall.

You get Jesse set up on the coach when she nods, and you fill a second cup with milk just as your daughter comes padding down the hallway, her pajama shirt on inside out but you’re not about to burst her bubble. You direct her to the same spot as Jesse, tucking blankets around both of them before you go back to the kitchen, taking a sponge to the condiments on the backsplash and high top table, and doing all of the dishes that Amanda never tended to last night.

You reach to put the pink plastic bowl away that was evidently used for last nights ‘i desperately need a snack’ battle, when you find the cabinet full of bottles and bottle parts. It hadn’t been like this the last time you’d come over, but the sight sparked nothing but excitement in your belly. It was getting realer and realer with every day that passed you by. Within the next month and a half, there’d be another little person in the house, another little girl to laugh with and dance with in the kitchen. You can’t wait for Billie’s arrival, but a part of you mourns what you know will be a permanent end to life as it is. You’ll never get these days as just a family of four back. If this goes well, the way you hope it will, you’ve never get life with just Etta back, and it’s a worthy sacrifice, a good one for the both of you, but you’re entire world is turning, shifting and shaking, and things that once seemed lightyears away or entirely unattainable are falling at your feet faster than you can keep up.

Jesse falls asleep before Amanda comes out of the master bedroom, so you take it upon yourself to spare her another trip down the hall and pick the four-year-old up with a careful grip on her head, not wanting to startle her awake if he were to lull sideways. Etta watches you with sleepy eyes, and you smile so tenderly at her tears cloud your vision for a minute.

“Sleep time?” You question attentively, and she bobs her little head with one hand still clutching her cup of half-finished milk. “Come on, we’ll get you all tucked in.”

It feels like just like any other night you’ve walked down the hallway to put your daughter to bed, but it dawns on you that tomorrow morning there’s not going to be any rush to get out the door. Amanda’s already demanded that Loretta spend the first day of maternity leave with her and Jesse, and you’ve already called the school acceptingly, happy that your daughter has something like this to hold onto and feel special about.

Loretta climbs into bed first, and you place Jesse down beside her, smiling softly when the littlest love in the apartment snuggled down into the comforter you threw on top of her body. Loretta reaches a hand up to your face, the same motion she’s found a habit of doing since infancy. You kiss her little fingers, leaning down to kiss her forehead next. “Goodnight, Etta Lou.”

“Night night, Mommy.” She whispered, turning around with the cup of milk in her hand, her back to you as she wasted no time getting comfortable.

“Goodnight, Jesse.” You kiss her head before you back away from the room and out of the hallway, only hoping that everything from here on out continues to be so easy.

Four weeks later, everything seemed to be sunshine and rainbows, proving every fear and wild fantasy wrong. Amanda was miserable more than she wasn’t, but she put up a good front for you and the girls even when you told her that it wasn’t necessary. The braxton hicks contractions had started a week ago, and they’re steadily increasing, but there’s still no sign of active labor even though she’s two days past the forty week mark and her due date is tomorrow, one single sleep away. You’ve been anxiously watching the clock for hours. You and Amanda had gone over the next few months of your life at lengths, and that plan was minutes away from happening as the time got closer and closer to four.

You had the next two weeks off from work, regardless of whether the baby came or not. You and Amanda had spent the last month creating memories that would last a lifetime as a family of four, and you’d even pulled off being super moms by taking the girls on their own separate date nights because remembering your lives as seperate families felt important, even if you looked forward to being one single unit.

You’d taken Loretta into Pennsylvania one Saturday, making the few hours long drive to the Crayola factory. It was something that always felt so unattainable before you’d met Amanda. There weren’t enough hours in the day to get everything done and take seven hours out of your schedule to make crayons and mold air dry clay, but Amanda had held the fort down with Jesse at the apartment, and you’d come home to a dinner of chicken nuggets and tatter tots. So, maybe it wasn’t any better than just stopping at McDonald’s on the way home, but McDonald’s never would’ve been filled with so much laughter.

Amanda took Jesse to the aquarium, and then they closed the night at Applebees. They’d both come home exhausted, Loretta already tucked into bed, and your body curled up on the couch with a mug of tea and old Friends reruns on the tv because that’s just classic New York. Jesse had two stuffed animals beneath her arm, and Amanda carried a third. There needed to be no explanation about the three teddy bears all in different colored tiny hoodies, and you smiled, kissing all over the tiny girls face before Amanda had put her to bed.

After the baby came, you were going to play things by ear. Both you and Amanda would go insane spending every waking moment of the day together with nothing to do to keep you busy. Amanda was dreading the first three months of newborn bliss where she was barred from any kind of physical excretion, so she was adamant against sealing you to the same fate. You’d both crash and burn if work was put on the back burner, so you’d be going back in some degree, but for now, you’ve told your boss it’ll only be three days a week and those are subject to change. Thankfully, Dr. Warner was happy to take over where you couldn’t spread yourself thin enough, but you wouldn’t let her take over completely.

In twenty minutes, you're free of autopsies and lab reports. You’re instead turned over to bottles, diapers, and tantrums because the girls are really starting to feel a shift in dynamic. Amanda’s brave face is a good front, but it doesn’t give her the energy to chase Jesse down the hall, or pick Loretta up and swing her around by the ankles. They’re not bad kids, they’ve never been bad kids for a second, and it’s not their fault that their lives are changing and they don’t know what to expect, but the hard moments are beginning to outweigh the good moments as separation anxiety spikes and teacher phone calls increase because one of them is crying and wont say what happened.

Amanada’s picked Loretta up from school twice since she’s been off, not because you’d asked her to, but because she’d gotten a call from the school that she’d made her self sick after lunch. She couldn’t tell Amanda what was wrong when she climbed into the car, because walking back to the apartment with a kid on the verge of puking again was not something she wanted to do pregnant. Jesse had been picked up twice, and she’d only gone to daycare eleven times throughout the entire month.

You were figuring it out though, navigating the challenges as they came. Both of you understood, and you showed your daughters your unwavering compassion for their feelings, but you think Amanda’s probably losing her mind right now because both girls of off from school and know that you’re coming home tonight and not leaving tomorrow.

The lab is a dead zone. You have to step out into the hallway for any kind of reception, and today is no exception. Your phone doesn’t ping once with an incoming call or text, but then Warner comes running down the hallway, her cheeks flushed.

“Amanda’s upstairs. She’s seven centimeters dilated, her water just broke, she’s fine, but she’s in labor. Olivia has the girls, she’s taking them and Noah to get pizza, they’re okay. I can finish up in here.” Warner gives you the rundown with no extra information, and you’re thankful for the information packed breakdown even if you can’t articulate that at this moment.

You know that labor progresses faster after the first time. It’s a common thing really, the pelvic floor knows its job at this point and the body follows suit in getting the job done, but this still feels unreasonably fast paced considering at your last OB appointment, Amanda had still been two centimeters dilated with no change.

You don’t even throw your lab coat off your shoulders or grab your phone before you’re rushing upstairs, taking the flight of emergency stairs instead of the elevator. There’s a sheen to your cheeks when you finally make it to the OB floor, telling the nurse at the desk your name in a blur. She points you in the direction of Amanda’s room, and when you break into the private suite, her blonde hair sprawled out on the white pillow, the blue and green hospital gown hanging off her body, you take in the nurse between her legs and the equipment already rolled into the room, ready for the moment Amanda can’t keep the baby inside anymore.

”You’re nine centimeters. I’ll be back in half an hour to check you again, but if you need anything, just press the call button and I’d be more than happy to come back and get whatever it is.” The nurse smiled, and even though you hadn’t been around for introductions, you get the sense that she’s the only reason Amanda’s not screaming at everyone who looks at her.

“Hi, honey.” You coo, coming up beside her, pressing a kiss into the crown of her head. She’s sweaty, clammy and hot to touch, but you embrace the state of her appearance, because she’s doing a beautiful and terribly hard thing right now. “You doing okay?”

“Get this damn baby out of me.” She weeps, and your reserve threatens to crumble, your hand cupping the back of her head as you pull her in closer, your eyes fluttering shut as you focu son the feeling of her hand grasping your lab coat tightly, another contraction tensing her abdomen. “Ahh.” She whines, craning away from you like changing her position will lighten the pain. Your hand flies to the part of her lower back that’s exposed from the angle she’s at, digging deep into the door muscle even though you know from experience it doesn’t help nearly at all.

“Breathe, Breathe, with me.” You don’t need a minute to get into the headspace you need to be in to help her through this. You’ve never needed preparation for anything with Amanda, you’ve always just been ready to dive straight in. It should terrify you, but it’s been five months now, and you’re content for it to be the rest of forever for all that you care. “Hold it. Hold it. Good, let it go.” You nod proudly when she comes down from the contraction, her body relaxing, her grip loosening. “What happened? How long have you been here?”

”I’ve been having contractions all day. I thought they were just Braxton Hicks. We just saw Dr. Levi, I didn’t think there was any chance it was active labor. But I bent down to clean up the water Jesse spilled, and I knew that she was coming. Liv,” Amanda winces, adjusting her position in the bed. It wasn’t a contraction, but you know and have come to learn that no position is comfortable for any duration of time. “Liv took the girls. She’s gonna drop them off at school tomorrow morning and Carisi’s going to pick them up.”

“I know. Warner found me. I’m seriously going to file a complaint with the City. How the fuck is it legal to have no fucking independant cell reception in a morgue where half my job is getting damn phone calls!”

“I’d really appreciate it if I was the only one freaking out right now.” Amanda’s jaw clenched, her lower back attempting to raise off the bed and release pressure on her lower back when another contraction railroaded her. you could see the contractions of muscles in her belly, and your hands squeezed hers.

“Right, I’m no longer freaking out. The lab is not my problem. And work is not important.” You talked yourself through the process of calming down, and Amanda smiled the best she could as the contraction ended.

“We’re never doing this again, right? I don’t want to do this again.” Amanda laughs through tears, and your thumbs brush them away before they can tickle her chin and annoy her anymore than her body is doing already. You smile softly.

“Three’s good with me.” You confirm, and Amanda sighs a breath of relief as she drops her hands to the rail guards. “You’re having a baby.” You whisper, leaning down to capture her lips in a kiss when she’s least expecting it to come. She kisses you back, deeply desperately, willing your simple affection to block out everything else she feels.

Half an hour later, the nurse comes back, and unfortunately for Amanda, she’s still not anywhere further along then where she was before you got there. It’s another two hours of contractions and crying before she’s at ten centimeters, but only ten minutes after that is there a beautiful toe head baby on her chest, covered in blood and vernix, but so so unbelievably perfect.

She’s swollen, a little bruised, maybe not the cutest newborn baby you’ve seen because unlike Amanda, you’re not so overflooded with hormones you can believe in delusions that she’s the cutest baby ever. She’s not. She’s typical. She has ten fingers, ten toes. She has the traditional newborn blue eyes. She’s the average looking newborn, but she's perfect for you, and for your family, and that’s all that matters.

“Hi Billie.” You chuckle through tears, drawing a gentle finger across her cheek, so light you can barely feel her beneath your touch, but you don’t want to hurt her. You can’t imagine putting any more pressure beneath your touch and harming her even in the slightest. You have your own baby, you’ve held countless others, but there’s nothing as terrifying as somehow not even an hour old yet. “Hi sweetheart. Hi.”

Billie’s little arms raise above her head as she stretches, almost like she recognizes your voice, and Amanda, who’s already just barely keeping it together, sniffling and swallowing her tears as she holds the baby to her chest. “You know that voice, huh. That’s your Mommy. She’s been talking to you for a while. So have your sisters. And me. We’ve all been talking to you, waiting for you.”

“M-Mommy?” Your voice cracks, and you hate that you can’t keep teh surprised vulnerability out of your tone when you ask the question, hanging onto the five letter word that Amanda doesn’t even seem to register she’s uttered at all.

Amanda’s eyes snap up to you, leaving Billie for the first time since she was placed on her chest screaming and crying, proving just how well her little lungs work after nearly ten months cooking. “Yeah. Mommy. Jesse called you that today. ‘When’s Mommy coming home from work’… you’re, you’re already Jesse’s Mom. And, and I’d really like to think that you consider me another mom to Etta, and I don’t want this baby growing up the way our girls did. One parent, one happy birthday kiss, one congratulations hug… I know that I want this, you do too, right? Right?” There’s concern in her last word, and you smile because she truly is an idiot.

“Amanda, if you have to ask, I'm not doing my job right as your girlfriend.” You teased, leaning down to kiss her lips again because nothing feels better than her against your skin in a way that nobody else can have her because she won't let them, not because you’ve asked her not to. There’s something so rewarding in knowing that you’ve managed to win the heart of New Yorks literal finest. “Etta called you Mama last week. I didn’t say anything. I wanted to see if she kept going with it. I’m honestly impressed she hasn’t caved and accidentally slipped up. I had this whole thing planned. I was going to stop by the florist and get some flowers, and some chocolate because I know you ate the last of what we have,” You settle her with a deadpanned glare and she giggles sheepishly, tears glimmering in her eyes as she listens to you talk and takes in what you’re implying. You were going to officially ask her to be Loretta’s mom. “But I guess this little lady had other plans. So, will you let me ask you now?”

“Mhm, ask me. Ask me.” She begs, and you wouldn't dream of withholding her this right any longer. She’s been Lortetta’s mother since the first time she’d called her name dripping with southern charm that had hooked you instantly. Even now, six months after you’d first met, unaware of everything you’d soon find out, you can’t get over that Atlanta charm. It’s soft, hidden in plain sight most often, but right now, when she��s letting herself just be, when it’s not Detective, or Mama, or anybody of importance outside of just existing to be loved, it’s strong as day.

“Will you, Amanda Rollins, do me the biggest honor of my life, and be Loretta’s Mama?” You sniffle, unable to hold back the tears in any capacity anymore. They leak down your cheeks like a broken faucet, hot and uncomfortable as they slicken your skin and tickle the skin of your skin where they gather before gravity pulls them down, painting the collar of your blouse with spots of wetness.

“It would be the highest privilege of my life.” She giggles pecking your lips three times before Billie sneezes, and both of you are reduced to sobs and coos as you bless her repeatedly.

“It feels like just yesterday I was here having Etta.” You sniffle, sitting down in the chair at her beside table for the first time, still holding onto her hand. “She seems so big now.” You whisper, your eyes tracing Billie’s features memorizing all the tiny details that you know you’ll eventually forget, lose perception of. Up until now, you hadn’t been able to truly see how much Etta had grown. But it’s clear as day now as Amanda holds the newborn on her chest, a pink blanket keeping her warm before you dress her for the first time.

“It’s gonna fly by.” Amanda whispers, and your lips quiver as you glance across the room at the clock hung above the door frame, the ticking hand quiet beneath the beeping of Amanda’s heart monitor.

”It already is. Happy one hour, Billie.” You tell the baby, and for the first time, Amanad offers her to you, transferring the bundle of purple fabric carefully. “Pretty girl. Just like your Mama.” You coo, unable to help yourself from charting Amanda’s features in the swollen face of the infant.

“Jesse had the same nose as a baby.” Amanda whispers, watching you softly rock the infant who doesn’t seem to need the sensory input, but you’ve taken it upon yourself to provide it anyways, keeping her in a trance of earned sleep. “They change so much.” She pouts and you can only agree, your heart twisting as you picture Loretta this little, this innocent and all wrapped up tight. It’s been years since she’s fit so easily in the crook of your arm.

“But it’s an honor to watch them change.” You counter and she agrees, though that doesn’t ease the pain of passing time in the slightest. “We should call Liv, but selfishly I kinda want to enjoy just the three of us for a while.”

“I’ll text her in a little bit. Let me celebrate you before we have all of the squad in here.” You compromise, and Amanda’s happy with that solution, happy that she has someone to blame if Olivia’s unimpressed to learn you’d updated her hours later, though you know she’ll be over the moon and only teasing anyway. “I love you.” You remind Amanda, because you're not sure if you’re told her that since you came up here, but you do. You love her so much that it hurts and you can’t believe you get to experience her love at all.

“Marry me.” She blurts, and your eyes go wide, and seconds later so do hers, realizing that the concoction of drugs she’s on and wild hormones have completely taken advantage of her tongue. “Not right now but… someday.”

“Some day.” You hum, “I’d love to marry you, Amanda. But, we’re never selling my apartment. A skyrise in Manhattan with a fixed lease? We’re never gonna find anything like that nowadays. Damn inflation has gas costing almost three dollars a gallon.”

“Your place is bigger. It’s closer to the Precinct and the girls' school.” Amanda hums, turning the idea over in her head, nandy this single conversation is enough to encapsulate your entire conversation. Everything is easy, everything’s an opportunity to see the other person's side. You don’t know how you’ve gotten so lucky, but every day is a good one even when you bicker.

“Sounds like you’ve thought a lot about this.” Your eyebrows raise, and you glance down at Billie when she coos, her little lips puckering as her tongue smacks against her gums. You laugh, wondering if she’s going to be as pacifier obsessed as Etta had been. It crosses your mind that you never asked if Jesse was hooked on the pacifier. There are pictures on the mantle that suggest Amanda isn’t above quick and easy comforting, but she’s heard the horror stories of weaning Etta, and one for Jesse has never come up. You don’t know how there are still things to learn about Amanda, but it’s your favorite thing that every day brings something new. “Have you? Thought a lot about this? Moving in with me?”

“Seems kind of counterproductive given we painted the nursery, huh?” She attempts to laugh, but the ache in her belly hasn't gone away even if the baby and the placenta have. “Maybe not now, not for the first year. The girls know that we sleep at my place now and we have fun at yours. I think slowly easing them into sleeping there and packing up the apartment is better. It gives everyone time to adjust to a new baby and a new routine. I don’t think it would be the worst decision we’ve made so far.” She explained and you nodded, because it made sense even if it meant undoing all the work you’d just gone through to get her apartment in shape for Billie’s arrival.

“We’re doing this all out of order aren’t we? Kids before we’re even dating, moving in on a whim, having a baby before we get married…You’d think we were trying to make this as complicated as possible.” You chuckle softly, patting a gentle rhythm on Billie’s bottom, every instinct learned from infancy with Etta coming back to you like it had never gone dormant at all.

“If this is the most complicated things ever get, I think we’ll be okay.” Amanda comments, and with the line of work you lead, and the lives you take home because of the cases you solve, you think moving in before a wedding ceremony is the least, and probably most traditional of your habits and tribulations in life. It doesn’t scare you, but you won’t run from this reality. For the fairytale you’re creating in Manhattan, not some story book, not an animated film. You’re in the real world, but somehow she’s still nothing but a dream.

“We’re going to have a thirteen, seventeen, and eighteen year old at the same time. Honey, the complications are only just beginning.” You break the news, and Amanda gives you an unimpressed glare before her expression softens and she looks at you like she doesn’t know how to say the few hundred things she’s thinking. “I have faith in us, though. I’ve always had faith in us.”

“I’m gonna screw up.” Amanda whispers, and your eyes glisten with tears.

“I know.” The pain hadn’t even happened yet, but you know that when it does, it’ll feel like it’s cutting right through you. You’ll get through it though, but no amount of pain is worse than having to live a life separate from hers again. “I’m going to screw up too. And Etta’s going to screw up, and Jesse’s going to screw up, and one day Billie’s going to screw up for the first time, but we’re still going to love them anyway. I am still going to love you anyways.”

“Where were you all my life?” She whispers, beckoning you closer with an extended hand. You smile fondly, leaning in until you can lean your forehead against hers.

“Apparently only three blocks East.”

#amanda rollins #detective amanda rollins #jesse rollins #billie rollins #amanda rollins x you #amanda rollins x reader #amanda rollins comfort #amanda rollins fluff #amanda rollins oneshot #amanda rollins fic #kelli giddish #law and order: svu

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sleepingstarandorea · 2 months ago

Text

"I don't wanna lose you again."

Team Chaotix oneshot fanfic.│Angst with Comforting at the end.│Enjoy! <3

✩.･*:｡≻───── ⋆♡⋆ ─────.•*:｡✩

It was night time located at the Chaotix Detective Agency, in Seaside City. It was a calm night, everyone resting peacefully, all except for one. In Espio's bedroom, he was trying to sleep but something seemed to be bothering him. His body was shaking, his breathing was heavy, and his tail curled. Espio is having a nightmare, again. He holds his blanket tight, murmuring something in his sleep. He’s having another nightmare about the Metal virus events, and it was the same nightmare where he lost Vector and Charmy back at Restoration HQ.

"... N-no… No...V-vec… Char…my… No, no...Vector d-don’t...please stop…No no no—” Espio was tensing up as the nightmare became more heavier for him. He grabbed the blanket even tighter, shutting his eyes forcefully. Each time passing became more painful for Espio until he woke up as he screamed

"AAH!... " he gasped standing up from his bed, he was now sitting down still holding his blanket tightly, his breathing felt heavier, and he felt his chest tight. Espio tried to catch his breath, panting as tears streamed down his face.

He was crying without him realizing he was. Espio talked to himself for comfort, but no matter how many times he told himself it was “okay” he couldn’t stop crying. Espio covered his defeated face, sobbing in silence so no one could hear him.

A few minutes passed, Espio glanced at the clock to see what time it was: 2am of the night. Espio gave a deep exhale and got out of bed to go to the kitchen to get a glass of water. He walked to the kitchen, opened the cabinet, grabbed a cup of glass and served himself water from the sink. Espio then took a sip from his glass of water and sat down over the dinner table, he stayed there with only the deep silence around him.

He spaced out, lost in his own thoughts. He couldn’t stop to think of those horrible moments he had to go through.

He still blamed himself for not being cautious enough and letting everyone be in danger. He felt like a failure, as a ninja and as a detective. If it wasn’t for Sonic and Silver, he would have lost everything. How can he call himself a ninja detective if he can’t even save his own family.

All those negative feelings were affecting him, thankfully someone touched Espio's shoulder making Espio snap back to consciousness. Espio flinched when felt something touching him and when he turn around he saw Vector.

“Hey, I was talking to you—” Vector paused. “Are you okay Espio?”

Espio was still progressing, but he then shook his head and cleaned his tears up. “Vector, I a-apologize. I didn’t hear you, I’m fine.” Espio responded, not wanting to worry Vector, but the crocodile wasn’t convinced in his claim. There was a moment of silence, before Vector took a chair and sat in front of Espio.

“You had a nightmare, didn’t ya?” Vector spoke again, looking at the chameleon who stayed quiet. “I figured by the scream I heard earlier, and by the look on your face. Wanna talk about it?” Espio continued to stay quiet, he wasn’t even looking at Vector, his gaze was looking down to his hands. “Hmm. Got that.” Vector got the message that he didn’t want to talk about it, he thought of another way to comfort Espio.

“Well then, listen. Whatever it is bothering ya, just know that. I’m here for you, Espio.”

“And when you're not?…” Espio said, finally spoking.

Vector was caught by this. “What? Oh.” Vector sighs, before speaking again. “Espio, what happen wasn’t your fault—”

“Of course it was!” Espio stood up from his chair and interrupted Vector. His voice sounded a painful guilt in his tone.

“I knew it was a dangerous idea to go after Charmy after he was already infected. We put the whole restoration HQ in danger by bringing an infection without no cure yet. Not only that, I almost thought that I had lost you and Charmy, all because I wasn’t smart enough to come up with a better solution to keep both of you safe. I should have done more!”

“That wasn't you, there was already someone on board infected, remember?! We had Charmy secured in that container, until everybody started to get infected. I had to keep you safe, I couldn’t let you or anyone else get infected so I took the choice to stay behind. It was to protect you, that wasn't your fault Espio!”

“So you just decide to give up your soul, leaving me to think that I lost you forever and I wouldn’t ever see you or Charmy?!”

“I've already lost Charmy once because of my fault, I wasn’t gonna take the chances of losing you too!”

Espio and Vector had a continuous back and forth argument between one another over whose fault it was. Espio blaming himself for not protecting the team and Vector blaming himself as well for also not protecting the team. All these arguing left Charmy woke up, peeking out of the doorway upset hearing Espio and Vector fighting with each other. He never sees them fight like this, and they never have.�� Charmy couldn’t bear much longer so he spoke.

“ G-guys…” This caught the attention of both the chameleon and the crocodile to glance over the small upset bee hiding behind the doorway. They realize that their argument had accidentally woken up Charmy, and felt guilty for having Charmy to see them like this.

“Charmy, we…We didn’t mean to wake you up little guy.” Vector apologizes to Charmy as he kneels down, opening his arm for Charmy to come to his arms, and Charmy does just that. He went to Vector and hugged him tightly. “We're sorry little guy.”

Charmy sniff, the little bee seems to be crying from all the screaming and fighting. He didn’t like when their dad and big brother fought like that. “P-please don’t fight because of me…It's n-none of your guys fault, it's m-mine.” Charmy said, shocking Espio and Vector of what the small bee had said. They both disagreed and tried reasoning with Charmy that he didn’t need to blame it on himself.

“Charmy, what on Gaia are you trying to say buddy?!” said Vector

“No, Charmy, if anyone is sure it is not yours.” said Espio, kneeling too beside Vector and Charmy.

“But…I didn’t listen to you and I got infected. I…I just wanted to help.” Charmy’s eyes welled in tears, on the edge to start to cry. Vector comforted him, hugging him and patting his fluffy head.

“Kid, you have a good heart and you thought about what was right at that moment, like us…” Vector pause and glance over Espio.

“We all did our best to do what was right. It wasn’t anyone's fault, we did the best we could. Let’s be grateful that Sonic and Silver fixed everything and we were reunited once more” He pulled Espio into a big family hug, he squeezed his two boys closer to him. Espio hesitated but he warmed up and hugged Vector back, couldn’t hold but to sob into his arms.

“WAAA, I LOVEE YA PAPAAA” Charmy hugged back crying along Espio and Vector.

“I love ya boy’s too. Never forget that.” They stayed in that position for a while just comforting one another, feeling safe in each one's arms. Vector chuckled as he cleaned his tears “Ya know, I think we deserve some time off. What you boys think of a one week vacation, just the three of us. No case, no work, no dangerous missions, just a calm family road trip. Eh? Seem nice, no?”

Charmy seems to like the idea. “A road trip!? yes yes yes!!” As for Espio, he was skeptical. “But what about the rent?”

“Aah, we can worry about that later. Come’n Es! Let’s take a small vacation and enjoy some quality time together.” Vector tried to cheer up the chameleon. Espio thought for a moment. A small vacation would be nice, though he knew this could catch up with them with the rent but as Vector said, they could worry about that later.

“Hmmh, a road trip does sound nice.” Espio smile warmly.

“Then road trip it is!” Vector said with excitement. “Well plan out everything for tomorrow, I think we should all go to bed now.”

Espio and Charmy agreed. Vector carried Charmy and took him to his bed to tag him in bed. Charmy fell asleep very fast, all that crying made him very tired. After Vector had tagged Charmy to bed, Espio went up to him and touched his shoulder.

“Vector.”

“Hmmh? Yes, Espio?” Vector glance down to look at the chameleon.

“I would like to apologize for earlier. I don’t wanna lose you again, dad.”

Vector eyes widen hearing Espio calling him dad, sure Charmy calls him by that but it’s sure was heartwarming for him to hear Espio say it too. Vector raises his hand and places it on his head to pat him.

“It's alright kiddo. You just need to get some steam off, that's all. Don’t worry, you ain’t getting rid of me that easily, haha.” the detective playfully chuckles, lighting up the mode. Espio also chuckled slightly too.

“Hmm, thanks.” Espio gave another hug of appreciation to Vector, which he gladly accepted and embraced.

“Com'n, lets go to bed.”

The team Chaotix slept together that night. Vector lay in bed snoring, having Charmy on top of him and Espio beside him. All sleeping peacefully together, enjoying each other's company and warmth.

✩.･*:｡≻───── ⋆♡⋆ ─────.•*:｡✩

Thank you for reading!!♡♡

#fanfiction #oneshot #they're family your honor #sonic the hedgehog #team Chaotix fanfic #team chaotix #vector the crocodile #espio the chameleon #charmy bee #angst #angst with a happy ending #platonic family #Metal virus mentioned #writing #writerblr

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narupilled · 3 months ago

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heh since u write for milgram can i request trial 3 fuuta with a reader thats like really, really worried about him. (trial 3 is going to ruin me)

“ assimilation “

૮₍ ˃ ⤙ ˂ ₎ა Pairings : Fuuta Kajiyama / GN!Reader (can be romantic or platonic)

𐙚 Warnings : angst(?), fuuta is a little weird but we love him, no comfort, reader is kinda cowardly

𐙚 Fuuta’s behavior had become… questionable. As you were the closest to him, you decided that it’s up to you to help him regain his senses.

Fuuta had been acting odd.

In all honesty, everyone had been acting odd. The atmosphere was incredibly tense and full with solemnity. Hell, the vibe was so much better before rather than how it is now.

As someone who was close to Fuuta, you were the first person to notice how his personality had changed. His usual spunk was now replaced with obedience. Obedience to ‘the Person’ as he says. (Though, you could tell that he was just talking about 008– that poor girl.)

But even though each attempt to talk to him led back to his newfound religion, you couldn’t just leave him alone. The guilt of letting him rot in his delusions was just too much for you to bear.

So now, here you are, in his prison cell. He sat on his bed, staring back at you with that polite smile again— it scared you.

“Fuu… Fuuta.” Your voice wavered. “[Name].” He replied back. The atmosphere was thick, though maybe it was only in your head, as he looked like he was having a great time just interacting with you.

“..I’ve been worried.” You finally managed to form a coherent sentence. The dark orange haired man cocked his head to the side. The movement made you mildly uncomfortable— it was as if he suddenly had a childlike demeanor.

“You said that a day ago, [Name].” Before you could cut in, he giggled, hopping off the bed and walking towards you. “I don’t understand you. It’s bad to reject the truth. Don’t you know that she’ll save everyone here? Why don’t you just believe?”

His words spilled out, fast and relentless, like he'd rehearsed them over and over in front of a mirror. There was no pause, no breath—just doctrine. Either he was getting more desperate… or more convinced.

Then, his hand shot out and clamped onto your shoulder, fingers digging in tight. You flinched. He leaned in close— far too close, until his breath ghosted against your cheek—hot, damp, suffocating.

“Don’t be scared,” he whispered. “You won’t have to be scared anymore if you just let go. If you just join us—”

And again, like yesterday, and even the day before that, you ran away. You could still hear Fuuta’s ramblings while you ran back to your cell, it was like he still believed you were there infront of him.

You took in deep breaths, following a breathing technique a certain caring friend you had in here taught you before she passed.

‘It’s okay.’ The thought repeated in your mind. You still made progress. You would help him. You will snap him out of it.

But, deep down, you know that all your sorry thoughts about saving him won’t do anything. A part of you knows that he’s gone. He was never going to come back.

But despite that truth clawing at the back of your mind, you’ll still go back tomorrow. You’ll timidly enter the same cold bars. You’ll smile like it’s normal. You’ll pretend like he’s still in there, somewhere, behind those glassy, dead eyes.

And maybe one day, you won’t come back to your own cell.

Maybe one day, your voice will join his.

Maybe she will save you too.

Author’s Note : HIHI! Sorry its been almost two weekssss,,, im working on some requests rn i promise ill get them out soon,, also first milgram request YAHOO! I lovemilgram… more milgram requests… meow… sorry this is super short tho hehe im super tired

⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ thank you for reading !!! <3

#x reader #milgram x reader #fuuta x reader #fuuta milgram x reader #milgram fuuta x reader #fuuta kajiyama x reader #kajiyama fuuta x reader #angst #milgram x y/n #fuuta kajiyama x y/n

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foreverisntenough · 11 months ago

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Forever Isn't Enough Series

Hi! Welcome to my fictional delusions about footballers. I hope you enjoy my work :)

MDNI! (Contains Smut* turning on Mature content community labels on your account may be required)

Oldest to Newest ⇨

YOU'RE MINE * MDNI 18+

Trent Alexander-Arnold x Reader | 30 Chapters - Complete ✨

↳ While you daydreamed about his face an ocean apart, he had no idea what yours was about to do to him. With a twist of fate and the heat of summer, a new relationship would completely ransack his heart - Everyday heavy with the thought of one another, neither of you were going to let the unexpected love of your life go. You were going to be his, you were his, and you were going to stay his.

Read Now! ♡

OURS * MDNI 18+

Trent Alexander-Arnold x Reader | 30 Chapters - Complete ✨

↳ You were his and he was yours but what would it be like adding one more? Thrust into a whirlwind romance you never could’ve imagined that became your forever love. You continue building a new life across the pond with a very beautiful Scouser. A sequel to the ‘You’re Mine’ fic.

Read Now! ♡

THE EPILOGUE * MDNI 18+

Trent Alexander-Arnold x Reader | 3 Parts - Complete ✨

↳ A conclusion to what has happened in the ‘You’re Mine’ sequel 'Ours'

Read Now! ♡

ACT II * MDNI 18+

Jude Bellingham x Reader | Complete ✨

↳ Attraction is like a gravitational pull that is undefinable and unavoidable. Unbeknownst to you, Jude had been keeping an eye on you since he caught a glimpse on his best friend’s girlfriend’s Instagram but he’s been loving his single life. You always were independent and know how to swim on your own but maybe you have been just treading water. Could the tides change on a holiday in Greece when you finally meet? It might get a little rocky but maybe you could be his paradise. ‘Act II’ is interconnected to the 'You’re Mine' and 'Ours' Series but can read it independently.

Read Now! ♡

MOVIE NIGHT* MDNI 18+

Trent Alexander-Arnold x Reader | Complete ✨

↳ If only life was like the movies. For years, you’d flirted with the idea of something more with Trent, your brother’s best friend. You'd always danced around the edges of something more with him, sharing flirty moments that felt like scenes straight from the cinema. You had been silently desperate for the main character of your life’s film to finally get the boy but you knew moments like that were saved for Hollywood. The lines were clear; you were always going to be his mate’s little sister. So what happens when you go off script? In a whirlwind of passion, secrets, and stolen moments, you're left wondering: will you and your brother's best friend get the happy ending you've been waiting for, or was it never meant to be more than a fantasy?

Read Now! ♡

Aperture* MDNI 18+

Trent Alexander-Arnold x Reader | In Progress

↳ A professional footballer with a playboy reputation finds his world reframed when he meets a talented photographer who captures the light and depth he’s never seen in himself. As their friendship develops, he finds himself illuminated by her presence—a stark contrast to the shallow spotlight he’s used to, but her guarded heart keeps her from fully trusting his intentions. Their friendship develops, like film in a darkroom, shifting into something far more intimate. But when their connection begins to blur the lines between friendship and something more, he realizes she’s the light he’s been chasing without knowing it and fights to prove he’s ready for something real. Yet, their love hangs in the balance—will the film of their story overexpose and fade, or will it develop into something vivid and timeless. Sometimes, love is about adjusting the focus, letting in the right light, and trusting the process.

Read Now! ♡

#trent alexander arnold #trent alexander arnold x reader #trent alexander arnold imagines #taa x reader #footballer x y/n #footballer x reader #trent alexander arnold smut

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becauseitsyouandi · 11 months ago

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my personal jalex fic recs because fawk, jalex maaaaan

Because you can never get enough jalex <3

♡ 𝕞𝕦𝕝𝕥𝕚𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕗𝕚𝕔𝕤 ♡

OTP by Save vs. Magic ✿ Season 3 ✿ COMPLETE ❀ 'With 'Charmed and Dangerous' set to become a movie, Alex is shocked to discover the books based on her life are wildly popular. Even more shocking is what some fans are reading between the lines. And most disturbing of all? Justin might be one!' ✿ OMG. I love meta and I love Jalex, but more importantly I love realistically written Jalex where they don't want to jump each others bones as soon as the fic starts, so this is my #1 recommendation in a multi-chaptered fic if you think to yourself, wait, how in the F do they even start to realize they like-like (lol) each other anyways? Soo well-written, Save vs. Magic is a stellar author who has wrote plenty of gems for the jalex comm <3 After you read OTP, I recommend reading the Easter special for OTP A Handshake With God. So funny and a cute taste of Jalex's after.

Reflection by TheWolfHourx, TwistedWizards ✿ Post Season-4 ✿ IN PROGRESS ❀ Woooo boy, what to say about this one--- it's sexy, incredible sexy. Risque and full of tension, Alex is stuck in the You-niverse with daaark, eeeeevil Justin, who wants to make her his. She is living my dream! It is unfinished, and I want to give a disclaimer that it ends before they do the deed, so if you're okay with mild blue-balling, this is an awesome read that's not juuust smutty goodness yum, but has well written Jalex that makes you root for our main couple (and sexy evil Justin is there, did I mention sexy evil Justin?)

'More Transparent Than Water And Thicker Than Blood' Series by pandorium ✿ Season 3 to Post-Series ✿ COMPLETE ✿ Ooooooof. Talk about an emotional rollercoaster ride, my heart! Sweetness, and heartbreak, and then sweetness. A series of one shots span from post-movie codependency to Jalex as adults. Don't worry-- a happily ever after awaits with this one, even if the journey to get there for our two siblings is a bit long.

Something like Forever by someryn ✿ Post-Movie ✿ COMPLETE ✿ Two-part series that has Justin's POV Leave The Ashes, it's a look at how Justin and Alex cope, well fail to cope with the traumatic events of the movie. Alex struggles to communicate her emotions in Alex fashion, Justin is her steadfast brother who looks at her for just a bit too long, and there is sweetness and the perfect amount of spice added in (just a pinch). Delicious Jalex awaits with this fic <3

Truth Spell by saveyou ✿ Post-Movie ✿ IN PROGRESS ✿ This is an AU where Justin runs away from home post-movie--and only Alex knows why. It's an interesting set up, but last update was in 2010 and it ends off sorely unfinished. But it is a nice read and I enjoy how Alex and Justin are written.

˚ʚ ♡ 𝕠𝕟𝕖-𝕤𝕙𝕠𝕥𝕤 ♡ ɞ˚

Holding Back the Night by Nerissa ✿ Post-Movie ✿ More like hold back my tears when mentioning this fic! This is my #1 Jalex fic recommendation-- it holds such a special place because it fueled my Jalex obsession to unstoppable levels. The ultimate codependency trope fic for Jalex in my opinion. The conversations in this fic are so so cute, tender and emotional. This is the hot-chocolate-your-grandma-gives-you of a Jalex fic. Lemme re-read this fic now <3

so what if you catch me, where would we land by ladytahiri ✿ Child to Adult Jalex ✿ 'Justin and Alex's lives unfold like a butterfly in reverse' ✿ Starts off on an amazing hook with Theresa catching Justin and Alex in a compromising position, and traces back through the blossoming of Justin/Alex's relationship, to when they were just children. Mwah mwah a billion chef kisses!

reach out and touch someone by omens ✿ Season 4 ✿ “Careful, Justin; that almost sounds like ‘what are you wearing territory?’ there.” ✿ AKA Justin and Alex are horny teenagers, Justin is away at college, and late-night husky phone convos ensue. Sign me tf up!

Hands That Touch The Wrong Things by TheWolfHourx ✿ Season 3 ✿ 'This obsession. This painting. Something about this screams at her louder than all her other paintings. Something inside her rips and roars and howls.' ✿ Angst and pain in Alex's POV as she grapples with her feelings post-Puerto Rico. She uses painting as an outlet for her desires she can't express.

Louder than sirens by popsongnation ✿ Post-Movie ✿ 'The feeling stays with her as time goes on, the need to touch him as often as possible. She knows he feels it too.' ✿ Uuuugh author why must you slay me! Codependency trope done so so well it hurts! Secret handholding and rapidly tangled feelings, my heart squeezes in pain for our two sweethearts.

#justin x alex russo #jalex #justin x alex #jalex wowp

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creamhoodie · 2 years ago

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𓆩♡𓆪 Period Play 𓆩♡𓆪

A/N: A Christmas Eve gift also helped me get through my period this week. synopsis: Gojo stimulates you while you are on your period (afab reader, reader uses a tampon, set during Gojo's jujutsu high days, all characters are young adults)

“Why didn’t you go on today’s mission?” Satoru Gojo said, opening the door to your dorm room and poking his head in.

“I’m sick,” you said motioning to the state you were in: lying in bed with a heating pad on your stomach and a box of chocolates next to you. The background noise of a chick flick you were watching filled the brief silence.

“Bummer. I missed you out there today,” he said, now fully coming into your room and closing the door behind him. He plopped himself down on the edge of your bed and looked closer at you. “Wait when you say sick you mean-“

“I’m having menstrual symptoms, yes Gojo,” you told him, a little annoyed at his presence. While you did admire him for being the strongest, you found he could be arrogant sometimes and he was always teasing you.

His crystal eyes seemed perplexed, almost stumped.

“Oh well, are you feeling okay?” He asked unsure, it was the first time he sounded unsure of himself.

You failed to hold back a laugh.

“So all it takes to stump the great Satoru Gojo is some period symptoms that’s very funny,” you giggled.

He narrowed his eyes.

“No. I know about this stuff plenty of the women in my clan went through it. I just didn’t wanna seem insensitive is all,” he said genuinely.

“Oh okay. Well I appreciate that,” you said, accepting his words then adding, “Gojo those are mine!” when he popped a chocolate into his mouth.

“Can I stay here with you for a bit and hangout?” He asked, licking his longer fingers for any residue of the chocolate.

Now it was your turn to narrow your eyes.

“Why would you wanna do that?” You asked.

“I told you, I missed you out on the mission today,” he replied.

“Did you? I thought I always slowed you down,” you said.

It was true that he was infinitely stronger than you and even without his abilities his body never seemed to tire as he was in perfect shape despite his raging sweet tooth.

“Sometimes you do, but you’re good company and I like saving you,” he said with a hint of pink in his cheeks.

His words made your heart beat pick up speed and his stunning crystal eyes becoming puppy like wasn’t helping.

“Okay you can stay and ‘hang out’ or whatever you called it,” you conceded.

“Sweet,” he cheered, kicking off his shoes and rummaging around until he was sitting beside you under the sheets. “What?” he asked innocently as you watched him make himself comfortable.

“Nothing. Now give me my chocolates we can share but I’m holding them otherwise you won’t.”

——

You had ended up restarting the chick flick for Gojo to watch it from the beginning. He teased the cheesiness of it at first.

“You seriously like this type of thing?” He asked, brows raised.

“I do. I like romance and sweet gestures,” you replied a little defensively. It was a guilty pleasure especially because the romance in your life had been lacking lately.

“Okay hold your fire I was just asking. No need to get all defensive on me, doll,” he said snickering.

You ignored him but took the last chocolate as payback for his teasing your heart relishing the way his voice turned boyish as he exclaimed “hey!”

As the movie progressed Gojo seemed more invested, no longer making witty remarks. He had also allowed for his knee to rest against yours under the sheets, the slight contact making you blush. You dared not look up at him however, not wanting to be caught. It was unfair that he got to sneak all the glances he could at you (and unbeknownst to you there were plenty!) but it would be so obvious if you looked up at him.

After a while you dozed off.

You only came to when you felt Gojo shifting under you.

“Gojo?” you asked, groggily as your mind registered your position.

You had ended up laying on his chest and on top of him in your sleep as he sat there in a relaxed fashion like your own personal recliner.

“Good morning, doll. You missed the ending but I gotta say it wasn’t as bad as I thought,” he teased.

From where you were laying you could smell his natural scent as well as his musky earthy cologne, the smell of him was enticing to your pheromones. “Like how I smell?” he was clearly amused and you looked up at him now, he was watching you intently.

“Gojo stop being weird, I just woke up. Sorry for falling asleep on you,” you said, straightening yourself up so you were sitting next to him again rather than laying on him.

“Your face is red,” he teased.

“Because it was hot under the blankets,” you deflected.

His grin said he knew otherwise.

“You’re cute when you’re sleeping,” he said.

Again, your heart began to pick up speed and to your horror you felt a second heartbeat in a much more intimate area.

“Okay, well since the movie is over you can go now. Thanks for keeping me company. See you on the next mission,” you said, trying to force nonchalance when you felt anything but.

Gojo laughed and leaned closer to you.

“See you on the next mission? Why are you talking to me like we’re just colleagues?”

He came ever closer still, bridging the gap between the two of you so you could smell his minty breath.

“Isn’t that what we are?” you asked, blinking slightly. Time seemed to stop with him and suddenly you were hyper aware of everything from his long white eyelashes to his lush pink lips and of course his signature crystal eyes.

“Ouch, I would have at least called us friends, but you wanna know something?” his voice was like molasses as if he wanted you to take in every word.

“What?” you asked.

“I don’t just wanna be your friend,” he confessed. His lips were on yours and you exhaled a breathy moan you didn’t know you had been holding in. “Fuck, do that sound again,” he whispered between kisses.

You did, it was easy with the way he was making you feel breathless as his tongue and lips completely intermingled with yours.

Your hands went instinctively to his undercut, always having wanted to touch it, you did now, fingers grazing the blunt hair texture causing him to moan into your mouth.

Hormones raging you struggled to wrap your legs around his waist, but luckily he knew what you wanted.

Effortlessly, he positioned you two so he was in front of you in a sort of missionary fashion, your legs draped around his shoulders, he bent forward to give you tongue filled kisses.

“I’ve wanted this so bad, you have no idea,” he whispered to you.

“Me too,” you came clean at last. You made out with him some more and you felt his erection through his pants against your sex causing you to come back to reality. “Gojo, I'm on my period, remember?”

He blinked as if remembering but he was as witty as ever.

“So? A little blood doesn’t scare me. Does it scare you?” he teased.

Your face flushed with heat. Of course it didn’t scare you but the prospect of him seeing you in that manner did.

“Gojo!” you whined in disapproval.

“I’m kidding, god you’re so fucking cute when you’re riled up. There’s plenty of other ways for us to have fun,” he said.

As if to demonstrate, he resumed kissing you, his hands inching up your shirt hesitantly, you nodded to give him approval and he continued. You sighed in bliss as you felt his large hands cup your breasts as he continued to kiss you. His thumbs massaged the nipples that were hypersensitive from it being your time of the month.

“Feels good doesn’t it?” he said softly to you as your lips broke apart.

You could only nod, eyes rolling back in pleasure. He continued to massage your nipples and as he did he grinded his clothed erection against your clothed sex stimulating you as much as he could.

“Gojo.. so good,” you moaned.

“Call me Satoru,” he said, his voice shaky, almost vulnerable.

“Satoru..” you moaned, indulging his request and you didn’t miss how his eyes softened at you doing so.

“Fuck, can I take your shirt off?” he asked his voice heated and eyes still soft, a thrilling combination that was making your stomach leap with butterflies at what it could mean.

“Yeah,” you said, granting him permission, it was getting too hot anyways.

He eagerly popped open the buttons of your top and you didn’t miss how one went flying in the air.

“Sorry. I’ll fix it or get you another. Just so excited,” he said breathlessly.

“It’s fine Go- Satoru,” you assured him, unhooking your legs from his shoulders and opting to sit up to help him shrug the sleeves off until the whole thing was discarded and forgotten on the bed.

You hadn’t been wearing a bra so your full breasts were exposed. Gojo had always taken peeks at your breasts and down the cleavage of your shirt when you weren’t looking. It was all too easy for him given the height difference. Now faced with your exposed breasts he couldn’t look away, feeling like an adolescent again seeing a pair for the first time.

“Fuck,” he whispered, again cupping them with his hands. You trembled, loving both his reaction and touch. “your tits are fucking perfect.”

He bent forward and to your amazement he began sucking on your nipple while his other hand worked the other nipple, massaging it with his fingers again.

It was all too much and somehow much more sensual than you would have ever expected foreplay to be.

He looked up at you from where he was sucking your tit, blue eyes not leaving your face. His lips felt so good, the stimulation against the sensitive skin so pleasurable, you couldn’t help but grab his head to hold him in place.

He was bringing out sides of yourself you didn’t know existed, a new sexual confidence you hadn’t had before. Between him and your hormones, the racing of your pulse in your veins and clit you just wanted more of him.

This newfound confidence caused you to move his head between you both your tits now, pressing your arms against yourself closer so your tits were fully enveloping his face.

“Yeah that’s it, suffocate me with your tits baby,” he groaned, his words muffled but decipherable against your skin.

“Oh god,” you moaned, your lips quivering completely on the brink of losing it now at the new endearment he had called you.

You mentally cursed your cycle for cock blocking, you wanted him, no you needed him desperately.

“You wanna be fucked so bad, I can tell,” he teased and you figured not even a face full of tits could silence his playful personality.

“Shut up,” you replied but loosened your grip so he could come up for air, now his face was flushed and snowy hair was a full on mess, plastering down on his forehead with sweat.

“It doesn’t take six eyes to tell you wanna be fucked, even a blind man could tell,” he said.

“So what are you getting at? You seem in a similar state yourself,” you asked.

“Well my offer still stands. I wouldn’t be the strongest if a little blood scared me,” his eyes glowed mischievously.

You chewed on the inside of your cheek as you contemplated it. You were wearing a tampon after all, maybe he could stimulate your clit a little and help you orgasm?

“Mmm, okay Satoru but we can’t do much else besides clitorial stimulation because you know,” you said.

He perked up.

“Sounds good to me. I’ll do only what you want,” he said.

He got off the bed positioning himself on his knees in front of you, pulling your legs closer to him so you were within perfect reach. His long fingers reached for the ties of your sweatpants and you suddenly felt shy. You began to overthink: this was your first time hooking up with him, what is too much too soon? What if he didn’t like it? Even worse, what if you smelt even though you had been keeping up with your hygiene more than usual because of your period?

He sensed your hesitation, pausing.

“Hey, you okay?” he asked softly, voice serious for once.

“Yeah I’m fine,” you replied, ever the people pleaser.

He knew better.

“If you’re uncomfortable we don’t have to do anything. I just wanna make you feel good that’s all,” he said genuinely.

You searched your feelings. You wanted him, you always had, and now you had your chance to be with him. What was stopping you? Just fear, fear that he wouldn’t like it or he’d judge you.

“I want to, Satoru I’m just..” your words drifted off. Luckily, he knew, he always seemed to know.

“Scared? That’s okay. I’m right here with you. I’ll take care of you,” he said.

His sentence.. it was the very same sentence he had told you on your first ever mission when you were paired up with him. You had been so scared then and he had said these exact words to you, and it was then that you had begun to fall for him. It was something so little but it meant so much and as the memory played in your head it gave you the assurance you needed.

“You can go ahead now,” you said nodding to him.

“Yeah? Alright, let me know if you wanna stop at any time. You’re in charge,” he said, visibly excited.

With that, he undid the tie of your sweatpants and you helped him slide off your body along with your underwear, he placed your garments carefully on the floor.

Your bare sex exposed to him now, you didn’t feel as embarrassed as you thought you would have. Maybe it was because of his reassurance and the way he treated your clothes with such care that showed you he’d be non judgmental.

“Wow, you’re incredible,” he praised as you laid completely nude to him.

He used two fingers to feel up your wet folds making you shiver and your breathing hitched when he found your clit. He started rubbing your clit with his two fingers in a circular manner. He loved the way you let out a little ‘oh’ your face taking on an expression of absolute ecstasy.“That’s a good girl, your moans are so fucking sexy,” he said.

He was enjoying himself as well, making you feel good turned him on but then again everything you did sexually or not had always had an affect on him. You had said clitorial play only, and he was fine with that, after all he was a master of worshiping the clit.

Lucky for you, his fingers weren’t the only ones that were well versed in this art form. He inched forward, slicking his tongue across your precious pearl.

“Oh- Satoru- fuck yes!. mm,” you sounded unhinged, extremely in heat and all because of him.

It was everything he had wanted since he had seen you for the first time and as he continued to lap and simultaneously rub at your clit he enjoyed the view of your naked tits rising and falling with each breathy moan.

“Keep going, fuck, please keep going,” you begged taking full advantage of his earlier statement of you being in charge.

He had no intention of stopping and he had taken to licking the rest of your sex, tonguing your fleshy labia lips as well. He felt that he could spend infinity here between your thighs eating you out, and god did you smell good. He wasn’t the type of man that entertained foolish unrealistic fantasies of women smelling like roses down there and he was experienced enough to know what a pussy smelt like and yours with its heated metallic scent and taste was sending him over the edge.

“So good,” he lapped at your arousal, “so fucking good.”

Hearing how turned on he sounded made you pulsate more and you couldn’t help yourself, like you did before you reached down and took hold of his head pressing his face against your pussy.

It was criminal how insanely good he was at this, criminal how he had withheld this ability of that smart mouth of his from you. God, how many times have you two had spare time from finishing a mission early? Countless and to think you could have spent that spare time with him like this.

Your moans began to sound wet and guttural as tears rolled down your face from the immense gratification he was making you feel. As you felt yourself getting closer to climaxing, your grip loosened on his head as you fell back against the bed, hands falling back as well and gripping the sheets.

He glanced up at you, his face slick with both sweat and your arousal as he continued to pleasure you. The way your hair was matting to your forehead and was disheveled brought him glee since it reminded him of when he’d ruffle the top of your hair to tease you.

“Satoru, I’m so close,” you whispered.

“I know, I know,” he cooed gently as he paused, opting to only stimulate your clit with his fingers now. The raging erection that had been present during this whole ordeal pained him now and he wanted nothing more than to sink into the deep warmth of your pussy, but he understood that wasn’t possible right now. He’d later jerk off to the thought of you (not for the first time) to relieve himself, right now he wanted the focus to be on pleasing you. He found your most delicate spot and set a rhythmic pace.

“Yes, Satoru right there just like that!” you exclaimed enthusiastically knowing that if he kept his motions in this tempo you’d soon orgasm. He followed your command, eager to watch you hit your peak and he decided to aid you in that regard by talking dirty.

“You’re so fucking hot, you know that? Always have thought so from the moment I saw you.”

His words earned him a yelp from you and caused your knees to buckle, that made him smile… so you love when I talk dirty to you, doll, he thought to himself.

“You know how many times I thought about taking you as my own while we were out there all alone together on missions?”

He kept the same tempo you had instructed and he put his free hand on your waist, fingers kneading down the thick flesh of the side of your ass.

“Better yet, you know how many times I stroked out to you when we’d go our separate ways for the night staying at whatever dingy hotel we could find?”

By this point his words, his confirmation that his attraction to you ran as deep as yours for him was making your toes curl.

You were so fucking incredibly close as if standing at the edge of a cliff, body full of adrenaline.

“Truth is I may be the strongest but you’re the only thing that can render me completely weak, doll,” he whispered.

And off the cliff you fell into a cloud of pure bliss as your body released its orgasm. It felt so good, better than anything you had experienced. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, closing on their own accord.

It was a fulfilling end to this symphony of pleasure he had brought you.

“Satoru… that was amazing,” your words slurred and were almost buzzed as if you were drunk.

To think this was the pleasure he had brought you only with his tongue and fingers. You were willing to bet that the pleasure he could bring you was limitless but for now you focused on catching your breath feeling as free as a cosmic star.

—-

“Can I stay with you? I’m not the type to hit and run,” he said after you finished redressing yourself. He had cleaned you (and his face) up before gently handing you your clothes and straightening himself up to his full height.

“Yes I suppose you can,” you said awkwardly not knowing how to go forward in this new dynamic with him.

He seemed to pick up on that.

“Things don’t have to be weird between us, you know they can keep being how they’ve been,” he said.

“And what does that mean?” you asked looking up at him from where you sat at the edge of your bed.

“It means I can still do this,” he said ruffling your hair, causing you to protest. He leaned forward, hands resting on the sides of the bed as he eye level with you “and I can do this,” he added, kissing you softly.

You moaned against his lips, enjoying the way his lips felt against yours. When your lips broke apart he said:

“Now should we cuddle for a while? You can enjoy my scent freely without having to pretend you don't,” he offered.

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