#Angel imagine

[specialagentlokitty]

Angel x reader - gently falling

Sitting in your dorm, you looked towards the door as you hear a quiet knock and you furrowed your brows as you stood up.

Walking over, you opened the door.

“If this is about your party Zack I’m not going so stop asking.”

You threw it open, then you looked at the man who was standing on the other side with a confused look on his face.

“I uh.. I’m not Zack?”

You blinked and you narrowed your eyes at him.

“Well I can see that, are you a friend of his or something? Because if you are you can tell him to get stuffed and stop sending people to my door.”

“No, I don’t know who that is. Are you (Y/N)? Your cousin sent me, she uh.. she said you have some old books that you use to help you translate dead languages?”

“Yes I am, and so?”

“Could I borrow one?”

You rose a brow at him.

“I don’t even know your name, and Buffy hasn’t told me anything about you borrowing books.”

“Oh right, I’m Angel, and she said she’d call you?”

You shrugged a little bit.

“I’ll call her, but you better bring it back Angel because those books aren’t exactly printed in mass. Wait there.”

You closed the door and walked over to the phone on the desk, calling the number for your cousin and you spoke to her for a few minutes before hanging up.

Walking back over to the door you opened it and stepped aside, gesturing to the room.

“I can’t come in unless you invite me, it’s rude to just enter the room.”

“Right, come in then. Do you know what you’re looking for or the language?”

“No, but I’d recognise it if I saw it.”

You nodded, walking to your bookcase you sat down on the floor.

Angel looked around the dorm room, just surrounded in books and papers, and he picked some of them up to look through them.

“Can you really read all of this?”

“I wouldn’t be studying it if I couldn’t, here.”

You held a book up and he took it, flicking through the pages.

“What is it?”

“It’s a book obviously.”

You stood up, and walked back over to the desk to sit down and carry on with what you were working on.

“I know it’s a book, why is it in different languages.”

“I complied a list of every language I’ve come across so far, that’s it. If you recognise one, let me know and I’ll get you what I can, why do you need this anyway?”

“It’s for a… project Buffy is working on.”

You hummed, nodding your head and glanced at Angel before turning back to your work.

“Why do you study these?”

“I’ve always had an interest in languages I guess, a fascination with them, thought I’d get a career in it.”

Angel placed the book in front of you, pointing to the page on the left.

“This one, this is it. What is it?”

You took a look at it.

“Old Norse, I’ve got a few texts in it, but nothing that’ll help you. If you can’t read the language you’ve got no hope.”

You got up, gathering a few books and brought them back over for him, putting them into a bag before giving it over.

“What if I bring the text here? Could you translate it for us?”

“Look I’m busy okay, I’ve got assignments and other things to do I can’t be playing assistant to some random guy. Buffy has to learn to do work she can understand I can’t bail her out of this one.”

“Just once? She’s really stuck on this.”

You sighed, nodding your head.

“Fine, bring it here tomorrow, if I’m not here check the university library I might be in there.”

“Thank you.”

You watched him leave then went back to your studying.

The following day you were sat in the library and you saw somebody sit in front of you, laying some papers on the table along with your books.

“If they’re damaged Angel I’ll kill you.”

“Perfect condition I swear.”

You looked at him, and he slid the papers across the table.

“There’s a few extra’s, Giles wanted you to read through them.”

You nodded, grabbing your notepad and pen and you began slowly translating the works while Angel quietly watched you.

“So, clearly you’re not in high school, so why are you hanging around with kids?”

“Me?”

You looked up, rolling your eyes.

“Yes you moron.”

“Oh… well, we just met at a… activity?”

You looked at him.

“Worst excuse ever.”

“It was an every school thing for her class I was just there helping out.”

You went back to your work.

When you were finished you handed it back over to him, along with the translation.

“I’m not going to ask what project needs old Norse, or old Norse mythology but here. Next time you’re paying me.”

Angel chuckled a little, nodding his head.

“Deal. Thank you again, I’ll let Buffy know.”

After then Angel would often come by the university to get you to translate things for him, half of which didn’t make sense to you.

Everytime he would just sit there watching as you translated something for him.

It went on for months, and you began to expect his knocks on your door around the same time every evening.

And today was no different.

“Another, seriously what are you doing just printing things out for me to go through?” You laughed.

You walked over to your desk and sat down at your desk, glancing at the paper briefly before turning around.

“Angel this isn’t even a real language.”

“Yes it is.”

“Where?”

He glanced away.

“In… Greece..?”

“No.”

“Russia?”

“Try again.”

He glanced at you and then sighed a little.

“Okay, I just threw a bunch of things together..”

“Yeah, you’ve been doing it for the past two weeks.”

“You knew?”

You gestured to the papers on your desk.

“I’m not working towards a diploma for nothing. So, want to tell me what you’re up too?”

He said nothing, pretending to find interest in one of the artefacts laying about your dorm.

“Angel?”

“(Y/N)?”

There was a knock on your door and you got up, pointing to him.

“We’re talking about why you’re bringing me fake languages.”

Making your way to the door, you opened it and sighed.

“Get lost Zack.”

“Come on, you can’t stay mad forever, it wasn’t anything special.”

“You were making out with another woman, I don’t care if it wasn’t anything special. Leave me alone.”

Zack pushed his way past you and you turned around.

“Zack I’m warning you I’m not in the mood, get lost.”

“Come on, just stop being so petty, now we’ve got a date so throw this dress on and let’s go.”

You stormed over, taking the dress you put it back and turned to look at him.

“Fine, just go like that then I don’t care, let’s go.”

Zack walked over, and then he stooped, glancing behind you.

“She said go.”

“Who the hell are you?”

Zack reached out and Angel gripped his wrist, standing in front of you.

“When a lady says to leave, you leave, do you understand me?”

He pushed Zack back and stood there until Zack left, then turned around to face you.

“Who was that?”

“My asshole of an ex, that’s who.”

You sighed, then you looked up at him smiling a little.

Walking over, you leant up and kissed his cheek.

“Thank you for that Angel.”

Angel stood there frozen while you sat back down at your desk, his eyes glued to you and he sat on the chair next to yours.

“I want to be around you, all the time. And I shouldn’t, but I do.”

You stopped working, setting your pen down.

“The fake languages?”

He shrugged a little.

“I.. I have to go…”

“Angel?”

He stopped and you walked over to him, smiling a little bit.

“Want to get a coffee?”

“Really?”

Grabbing your jacket your threw it on and grabbed your keys.

“Let’s go, I know a quiet place.”

Angel trailed after you, and he glared at anybody who even dared to look in your general direction

[prose-for-hire]

Glamorous Assistant

Pairing: Angel x reader

Request: By me. I just thought it would be funny. Reader has mentioned they have magic skills that people made them embarrassed of in the past and Angel is willing to support you.

A/n: I will write more requests. I will write more requests. I will write more requests. xo

You had been dating Angel for exactly one hour and fifteen minutes. Officially, that is. You had been spending a lot of time together in the last year and got very close but he had a lot of baggage from his past relationships and so had wanted to take things very slowly. You were just happy to share your time with him, he could take things all in his own time. He knew this, that was why he had wanted to make it official. You were so understanding and kind he didn’t know what to do with himself around you.

He had never loved someone so much. Every moment with you was his perfect happiness. Luckily after a recent apocalypse he had proved himself and was no longer cursed in such a way.

You knew a lot about him, when you had first met he had rarely spoken unless you had asked about a million questions to try and get him to tell you about his day. Once you revealed that you were very good at magic, although you had always been slightly embarrassed to admit this to potential partners (for some reason you had lost a few to your skills), he started to talk more about what he deals with on a daily basis.

It was a surprise at first, Hellmouths and vampires and the like but you didn’t show it on your face. You really liked him and you didn’t want to think that you couldn’t keep up with his (very active) days. You learned all about his past lovers and you told him about your past too. You loved him, and nothing could ever change that.

It was the first time either of you had felt safe and secure with another. Wholly and completely.

That was why you finally asked if he wanted to watch you do some magic. He nodded, wrapping a hand around your waist and pressing the softest kiss against your temple. He knew that this had been a sore point for you and he whispered how lucky he felt that you wanted to share this with him. You glowed at his words, you couldn’t help it. Your face beaming at the tenderness with which he touched you. As if you were made from the most precious stone.

“Okay, uh, I just need to go and get a few things. I’ll be back” You explained, Angel nodded knowing that there was usually all manner of newt eyes and salamander eggs that needed to be obtained to pull off a successful spell.

When you returned, Angel was sat on the sofa in his penthouse, looking a little bemused at your new attire. It was only a cape, God, why was he staring at it as if it were an alien?

You set your items down with a flourish and ran up to him. You quickly took a coin from behind his ear, and gifted it to him. Telling him not to spend it all at once. He stared, a confused frown on his face as he stared down at the coin in his palm. You smiled at him and he smiled back, still looking a little lost from his seat as you continued with your act.

 “And for my next trick-!” You grinned, shuffling some playing cards and offering him the deck. He cut it and selected a card, checking it discreetly before returning it to the pack. You shuffled again and after a little speech, you produced his card and he nodded his appreciation.

You did a few illusions for him involving a mirror and a desk lamp when you noticed his expression. You paused, surprised. He had started chuckling. At first he tried to swallow it down, hide it by pretending he was coughing. But soon he was full on bursting with laughter.

His face lit up, you had never seen him laugh like that and it was nice to see his face brightened by smiling so much. But you couldn’t appreciate it very much seeing as it was at your expense. When he saw the pain on your face he stopped immediately, or well, he tried his best anyway.

“Hey, hey, don’t be upset, huh?”

“You’re laughing! I told you how embarrassed I had been made to feel in the past” You frowned, trying to will the tears not to fall. Angel bit another smile from his face, trying so hard not to make you upset anymore.

“Can, uh, can you saw people in half?” He aimed to try and show interest but it definitely felt like he was mocking you.

“Never tried it, but I’m one step away from it right now if you don’t stop laughing at me!”

“I’m- I’m – not!” He shook his head vigorously but it seemed like he was messing with you again.

“You are!” You insisted. And he was but not because he thought it was a lame hobby or stupid to spend your time on. But because he had thought you practiced the kind of magic that Willow did. He had just been taken off-guard and for some reason it had tickled him.

“Your magic was really good, I’ve never seen someone do that so well. Honest. I just, uh, well, I didn’t realise you meant the magic circle kinda magic. I thought you meant spells and witches brews, y’know?”

“Oh… Oh! That makes a lot of sense. Uh, sorry to disappoint” You said sheepishly, untying the cloak and allowing it to slide from your shoulders.

“I prefer it” He insisted, pulling you back to face him and pulling the cloak back onto your shoulders.

“Don’t patronise me, Angel, you thought I was all powerful and that’s why you were dating me”

“Y/n, I really like you. I would never have asked you to be mine if I didn’t. This thing that we have, it has nothing to do with magic. It’s just you and me” He meant every word. The meaning of his words were evident without you having any magical intuition to confirm it. He took your chin between his thumb and forefinger, so that you would look at him properly. His touch tender and a calming influence on your mood.

“Well, I really like you too” You said quietly, his entire body was able to relax. He was tense, worried that he had really hurt you. He moved in and landed a quick kiss to seal the words before you

“I’m sorry for upsetting you” He felt like he had to repeat himself, ensuring you knew that if he hurt you in any way, even in something small it would hurt him just as deeply.

“I get it now! Don’t worry and please don’t brood for the rest of the night. I have some plans on how you can make it all up to me” You smiled suggestively and raised your eyebrows at him.

“Oh, yeah?” Angel smirked slightly, the corners of his mouth were devilish when he looked that way.

“Yep, I’m gonna need a glamorous assistant for the rest of my act!”

“Wh-?” He was about to protest but the look on your face made him soften. This was something you were really passionate about and even though it was all new to him, he made sure he showed you how enthusiastic he was.

“I need you to source me a top hat and a rabbit. Preferably a fluffy one”

He shook his head as he walked away, taking your request seriously. He would do it. For you. He refused point blank at the feather-boa but he did graciously learn everything you taught him and helped where he could.

You pressed a kiss against his lips and thanked him for helping. He really was the best boyfriend around. And hey, you had got a new pet rabbit out of the arrangement too.

[delicatenightfury]

Christmas Surprise

Wolverine and the X-men onshot

Pairing: Warren Worthington III x OC

Summary: Warren decides to surprise his girlfriend for Christmas

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: fluff, just a little steamy at the end but not a lot

Author's note:

So, I made @mistys-blerbz watch two of my favorite X-men shows - X-men Evolution (2000) and Wolverine and the X-men (2009). We've been exposing one another to different shows and encouraging one another to create OC's for those shows. So, Misty created a character.

But we quickly realized that there is literally no fics for Angel other than the X-men Apocalypse version, and if I'm being honest, I really don't like that version of him. So, of course I had to go and write my own to satisfy us both.

Also, please don't steal my work! I don't own X-men characters or the OC (which belongs to @mistys-blerbz), but this is my own idea.

Elsie hummed happily to the Christmas music that echoed throughout the station. The place was decorated wildly for the holiday. Lights hung from the ceiling and wrapped around several railings. The large red and gold Christmas tree was put up in the lobby. Elsie always loved the train set that was always placed at the base of the tree, especially since the train was replaced with a bright fire truck. When she was younger, she used to lay in front of the tree and watch the train go round and round the base.

She could hear her family chattering around the place, cheering at the football game or laughing at the poker game they had started. The sounds made her feel a sense of peace, filling her heart with warmth. And while she wanted to join them, Elsie had claimed charge of the grill, cooking up enough food to feed a small army. Fire fighters sure knew how to eat. Not that she minded. She was used to cooking for large groups of people. The kids at the Institute could easily rival her Chicago family.

“Dinner smells great, kiddo,” Frank said as he came up next to her. “Glad to see you’ve still got it.”

“I’m hurt, Frank! You think I’d lost it?”

Frank smiled and pressed a kiss to the side of her head. The fire chief was like a father to her. He had graying hair and a full mustache that looked straight from the 80’s, but always had a charming look to him. Elsie guessed he was quite the lady’s man back in the day.

“Never.”

“Good. Now get the hell out of my kitchen. I’m working.”

Frank laughed as he stepped away.

“Ya hear that, boys? She’s home for all of two minutes and she’s already taking over!”

“Damn right!” Elsie called.

“She can take over all she wants!” she heard Ben shout back. “She cooks better than you can, old man!”

Elsie simply smirked at Frank, who looked shocked at the comment.

She loved her family, as crazy and nontraditional as it was.

When she was a baby, she was left at the fire station by her parents. The reason they hadn’t wanted her? She was a mutant, born with green skin, white hair, and golden eyes. The firefighters at the station had decided to take her in rather than turn her over to Child Services, knowing that she would have a better chance growing up with them instead of more than likely jumping foster homes. They gave her a room just for her and taught her everything she knew. 

They hadn’t cared about her appearance. In fact, they loved her for it. One of the first things they requested when she had arrived was that she turn off her image inducer bracelet and remain in her true form. The only other time she got to be in her own skin was when she was at the Institute or on missions with the X-men.

Elsie couldn’t have asked for a better family. She loved getting to come home for the holidays and be with them. They always made time for her, even leaving their own families for a time so that they could spend time with her.

The only thing that could possibly make this time better was if her special someone were there with her. The very thought of him made her smile. 

She had been dating Warren for several months now. Like her, he was a mutant with a physical mutation. They had gone to college together but did not officially get together until after they both joined the X-men.

The only downside was that neither of their families knew of their relationship.

Warren’s reasoning was straightforward: his father was a big public figure, the CEO of Worthington Industries, with a very vocal dislike for mutants. He even funded several anti-mutant projects. Having a mutant as a son was a “bad look” for Mr Worthington in general, so to learn that his son was dating one would be an even bigger blow to his image.

Elsie’s reasoning was a little more complicated. Her family consisted of a bunch of overprotective fire fighters. They would not hesitate to grill Warren given the chance, possibly even give the “if you hurt our girl” speech. As much as she wanted Warren to meet her family, she was nervous about the responses they would receive.

Elsie smiled when the meat finished on the grill, quickly putting it all on a large plate. She had timed everything perfectly so the food was all finishing around the same time.

She let out a loud whistle, knowing it would catch everyone’s attention.

“Dinner’s ready!” she shouted. “Come and get it while it’s hot!”

In the distance, she could hear people moving around to come upstairs. But she wasn’t expecting to hear a voice in the kitchen with her.

“Think there’s room for one more?”

Elsie whipped around to face the source, her eyes wide.

“Warren?!”

“Hey, sweetheart,” he said with a grin.

She gaped at him as he maneuvered through the kitchen to approach her. She wrapped her arms around him - she could never resist a hug from him. He picked her up briefly, swinging her around a little before setting her back on her feet. Her hands subconsciously drifted toward his back, fingers tracing familiar patterns there.

“What the hell are you doing here?” she asked.

“Thought I’d surprise you,” he said.

“But I thought you were spending Christmas with your father?”

He shrugged.

“I told him that I wanted to check out the Chicago lab, see how things were going. I just came from there.”

“You faked an excuse? To come here?”

He nodded, but was slowly looking a little unsure.

“Was that okay?”

“Of course!” He had faked an excuse to his father just so he could spend time with her. She hugged him again, planting a kiss on his lips. “I just wasn’t expecting it!”

“Hence why it’s a surprise, Els.”

A loud cough broke in, drawing the couple’s attention away from each other and toward the kitchen entrance. Elsie winced when she saw that nearly everyone was piled into the doorway staring at them. Slowly, they trickled in and all eyes were on the pair.

“Who the hell is this?” Todd asked.

Elsie smiled sheepishly, linking her arm with Warren’s, who smiled politely at them all. 

“Guys, this is Warren,” she said slowly. “My boyfriend.”

There were varying expressions of surprise on their faces. Elsie waited anxiously to see what they would do.

Frank stepped forward first, arms dropping from where they were crossed over his chest. Warren offered his hand to him.

“Warren Worthington. Pleasure to meet you, sir,” he said.

Frank scanned him over briefly before taking his hand and shaking it.

“Pleasure’s all mine. It’s great to finally meet you, Mr Worthington,” Frank said.

“Please, call me Warren.”

“You taking care of our girl, Warren?”

He chuckled a little, almost nervously. He looked at Elsie, flashing her a smile before turning back to Frank.

“Doing my best. But some days it’s more like she’s taking care of me.”

The fire chief smiled.

“She tends to do that. Hey, why don’t you take off your coat? Stay for dinner.”

Warren glanced at Elsie. She gave him an encouraging smile and a small nod. Warren took a breath before he shrugged off his coat. Elsie watched his wings unfurl, stretching them a little to get more comfortable. They seemed to glow in the kitchen lights. As Warren folded up his coat, Elsie looked at her family. They looked even more surprised than before, but they also appeared to be in awe.

“Woah,” Joe breathed.

Elsie smiled at Warren before clapping her hands.

“All right! How about we put the food on the table and eat?”

The rest of the night passed without incident. Of course her family wanted to know everything, so dinner mostly consisted of questions being fired left and right. Sometimes someone would say something that caught Elsie off guard and caused her to groan in embarrassment. In response, Warren would place his hand on her thigh. He’d squeeze it every now and then but would primarily rub his thumb gently over her skin.

But his actions did little to calm her down. In fact, he only succeeded in getting her to go from embarrassed to horny. And that damn man knew exactly what he was doing to her, that little smirk told her everything.

Warren had offered to help Frank clean up from dinner, much to Elsie’s annoyance. She wanted nothing more than to drag him up to her room. But he had chosen to socialize instead, wanting to get to know her family.

Damn, pretty boy.

In all honesty, she loved seeing him openly interact with her family. Warren rarely got to be himself in public, but he didn’t need to put up a front with them. It warmed her heart to see just how comfortable he was with everyone.

The hours slowly went by and things eventually settled down. Most of the crew went home to their families, a few staying in case of emergency. Elsie and Warren said their good nights to everyone before they headed upstairs to her room. 

Once the door was shut though, Elsie was practically on top of Warren. The man laughed, putting his hands on her hips and squeezing them in the way that Elsie loved.

“Woah there, sweetheart. Seems like someone is a little excited.”

“It’s your own damn fault,” she said, tugging at his sweater. “You kept touching my thigh during dinner, then brushing up against me throughout the rest of the night.”

Warren hummed, grinning as he pressed a kiss to her lips.

“Can’t help it, beautiful. I love seeing you all confident and happy. Plus you look amazing tonight. I love seeing this version of you.”

Elsie smiled.

“I guess I can forgive you. But only if you get these damn clothes off.”

“Way ahead of you.”

The two fell into bed, losing themselves in each other. 

Elsie sighed as she settled comfortably on Warren’s bare chest.

“God, I missed this.”

“What sex?” Warren said with an amused look.

“No. Well, yes. But no, I meant you.”

Warren smiled. He gripped her chin and pulled her face up to his so he could kiss her sweetly. Elsie hummed happily.

“I missed you too, sweetheart,” he said. “I’m glad I was able to come by.”

Elsie chuckled.

“I still can’t believe you lied to your dad just to come here.”

“Hey, I’d much rather spend time with you than with a father who barely talks to me. Your family is much more fun. You all seem very close.”

“I’d like to think so. They all basically raised me after my parents left me here. I’d never ask for a better family.”

“Don’t let the kids back at the Institute hear you say that. They might take offense.”

“What they don’t know won’t hurt them.”

Warren laughed. He tugged her closer and buried his face in her shoulder, pressing a kiss to her skin. Elsie smiled. He never could get enough of her, though the feeling was definitely mutual. 

“Oh, I just remembered,” she said. “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“Before dinner, Frank said it was great to finally meet you. Any idea what that was about?”

Warren nodded. He seemed a little nervous suddenly, but he spoke up anyway.

“Since we were in college, I’ve been giving monthly donations to the station. And when there was that accident a few years back when this place flooded, I helped pay for the repairs. So Frank and I have actually had a little bit of communication since all that.”

Elsie had pushed herself up so she could stare at Warren. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

“But all that… that was before we even started dating.”

He nodded.

“Yeah, I know. And I didn’t tell you because I didn’t know how you’d react. But I wanted to support the station because I knew how much it meant to you, and I knew how much they did to take care of you.” He reached up to cup her cheek, swiping his thumb over her freckles. “I hope that’s okay.”

Elsie could feel tears in the corners of her eyes but she refuses to let them fall. She laughed a little and surged down to kiss him. He was momentarily caught off guard but wrapped his arms around her to bring her closer. Elsie adjusted so she was straddling him, thick thighs on either side of his hips. She pulled away enough to look at him, a wide smile gracing her lips.

“It’s more than okay,” she said. “I just wasn’t expecting that. I knew the station was receiving donations, but Frank never told me who they were coming from. I just… thank you.”

Warren smiled, brushing her white hair back behind her ear. 

“Of course, Els. I love you.”

“I love you too, Warren.” A little devilish smirk slowly spread across her face as she rolled her hips. “Now why don’t I show you just how much?”

[sableeira]

2025 sounds like the perfect year for the release of a fourth and final book in a sci-fi fantasy tetralogy with lesbian necromancers in space and a beautiful, strong, and angry barbie titular character

[sai-int]

[ pt 1 ] fwb!simon pt 2

--

you blink at him. once, twice, four times over, trying to make sense of the words he just said.

i’m in love with ya.

the words hang heavy in the air, thick enough to choke on.

“oh,” is all you manage at first. then, when the silence stretches too long and he’s still looking at you like that—like he’s waiting for something, hoping for something—you force yourself to shake your head.

“simon, i’m sorry,” you say, voice quiet, careful. “but i don’t feel the same way.”

you think saying it plainly will be best, will make it hurt less. but you watch his face, watch as the flicker of something in his eyes dims, and you realize there’s no easy way to crush a man like him.

he merely shrugs. nods. like you just told him it’s going to rain later.

so you nod, too, because what else can you do? you reach for your shirt, slipping it back over your head, shimmying into your shorts with hands that shake just a little. the silence is unbearable now, a thick, suffocating thing, and it only gets worse when you clear your throat and ask, barely above a whisper—

“do you want me to leave?”

his answer comes immediately. “yeah.”

you freeze for a second, embarrassment creeping up your spine, then you nod again (you’ve seriously got to stop just nodding) and scurry out of his room and to his front door, yanking it open and slipping out into the hallway. your heart is in your throat, your face burning as you rush across the hall to your own apartment, slamming the door shut behind you before pressing your back against it.

fuck.

fuck, that was so embarrassing.

you spend the night drowning in self-pity, staring at the ceiling as everything replays over and over in your head like a bad movie you can’t turn off.

why didn’t you stop it sooner? why didn’t you shut it down the second he started calling you baby instead of slut? why didn’t you flinch when he pressed his forehead to yours, when his hands stopped gripping and Çstarted holding?

you didn’t just let it happen—you basked in it. soaked it up like a sponge, let it fill you—let him fill you—and now you can’t tell if that was just muscle memory, a latent yet insatiable reaction to being wanted, or if it actually meant something.

fuck, if you weren’t already embarrassed, that would do it.

meanwhile, across the hall, simon doesn’t sprial. doesn’t even wallow in the face of rejection.

he pours himself two fingers of his finest bourbon, sits back on his couch, and sparks up a cig. inhales deep, lets the smoke curl through his lungs before exhaling slow.

he's got a plan.

the next evening, your phone buzzes.

simon: come over. door’s open.

you stare at the message for a long minute, heart thudding, stomach twisting itself into knots. this is it. this is where he tells you it’s over, where he curses you out for being a selfish cunt, for leading him on, for taking all he gave without giving anything back.

and you deserve it.

so you brace yourself, tugging on a light sweater, slipping into your shoes. every step across the hall feels heavier than the last, and by the time you’re standing outside his apartment, you have to take a deep breath before pressing your palm to the door.

you push it open.

instead of anger, instead of harsh words or something hauled at your head, you’re met with the warm, rich scent of something cooking.

what the fuck?

your brows pinch together as you step in deeper, looking around cautiously. “simon?”

no answer, but then you see him—standing at the small table in the center of his apartment, just finishing setting it. two plates, two glasses, candles flickering dimly in the low light.

what the actual fuck?

your stomach drops. maybe he poisoned the food. maybe this is how you’ll die.

“what’s going on?” you ask, wary, eyeing the plates like they might explode.

simon pulls out a chair. just looks at you, waiting.

you hesitate, then slowly pad over and sit. your hands fold in your lap, your throat feels tight.

he lowers himself into the chair across from you, elbows on the table, fingers laced together.

he watches you.

you both eat in silence.

the only sounds are the soft clinks of silverware against plates, the occasional scrape of a chair as one of you shifts. you force out a weak, “this is good,” because it is—really, it is—but also because the silence is suffocating.

simon just grunts. keeps eating.

so you do too. fork to plate, bite after bite. the food is great, but you barely taste it past the tight knot in your throat.

when you're both done, he wordlessly stands, gathering the plates and taking them to the sink. you watch him move—watch the way his muscles ripple under his fitted t-shirt, the way his blond hair is perpetually tousled, the way his face, bare of any mask, is set in quiet concentration as he rinses the dishes.

you don't even realize you're staring until—

thwap.

you flinch as he flicks your forehead, his thumb and middle finger snapping against your skin just hard enough to jolt you back to reality. you blink up at him, startled, as he stands in front of you, hand extended.

you hesitate, then slip your fingers into his.

he pulls you up, and before you can register it, he's on you—his hands firm on your waist, his lips swallowing yours entirely

you squeal at first, but his lips are so soft, so sweet and full of something heavy, something deep.

you melt into him.

and that's just stage one of simon's plan, to woo you.

that night he fucks you so good you can’t even think about leaving his bed, let alone moving. He splits you open on his cock, ravishing you to the nines. he takes his time, makes you feel it, makes sure you can feel every ounce of his devotion each time he makes you cum (6 times in one night, a new record)

by the time he's done, you're ruined. wrecked in the best way possible

when morning comes, you're knocked, body heavy and sore, limbs tangled in his sheets. you don’t even stir when he rolls out of bed, grabs your phone from where you dropped it the night before.

he types out a quick message to your boss

you: sorry, got covid. can’t come in for two weeks.

sent—delivered—read—probably fired, too (you won’t be needing a job with him around, silly)

you shift slightly, murmuring something incoherent, but you don’t wake.

simon smirks to himself, tossing your phone onto the nightstand.

(don’t ask how he knows your passcode)

stage two is integration.

the next time beckons you over to his place, you notice something’s… off.

your favorite coffee beans are sitting next to his cheap instant shit. your shampoo, your conditioner, your body wash—all neatly lined up in his shower. there’s a hoodie you thought the building’s dryer must’ve gobbled up weeks ago, just neatly folded on his dresser. The chapstick he’s tasted on your lips countless times now sits atop his bedside table.

you blink at the sight of it all, brows furrowed. you pick up the chapstick, turning to him with a questioning look.

he doesn’t even try to deny it.

“figured you’d be 'round more often,” he says, completely casual, completely simon about it.

like it’s the most natural thing in the world. like you’ve already signed a lease and are moving in next month (you are, you just don’t know it yet, doll).

you should argue. you should tell him ‘no, we’re not doing this’, but you don’t. instead, you swipe the chapstick over your lips, put it back where you found it, and pretend you don’t feel his eyes on you the whole time.

he smirks to himself, taking your silence for what it is. acceptance.

stage three of his plan? move out!

oh, but not him. 

you wake in your bed (for once) to find simon standing in front of your dresser.

your dresser.

he’s holding one of your shirts—some thin, worn-out thing you only sleep in—twisting the fabric between his fingers.

you rub the sleep from your eyes, voice groggy when you ask, “what the hell are you doing?”

he doesn’t even turn around. “doin’ you a favor.”

“a favor,” you repeat, voice flat.

he glances at you over his shoulder. “yeah. consolidating.”

and that’s when you notice—your drawers are open, half-empty, your closet missing key pieces. your things are gone.

panic flares in your chest. you throw the blankets off, stomp over to him, grab the shirt from his hands. "simon. where the fuck is my stuff?"

he shrugs, completely unbothered. "my place."

“your—” you cut yourself off, taking a deep breath, hands clenched into fists.

“figured it’d be easier this way,” he continues, like he’s explaining something obvious. “y'know, since y’spend all your time there anyway.”

you gape at him, dumbfounded. “you stole my shit?”

he tilts his head, considering. “nah,” he says finally. “just moved it.”

“without asking me.”

he steps closer, towering over you, eyes heavy-lidded and knowing.

“would you ‘ave said no?”

you want to say yes. you should say yes.

but the truth is, you don’t know. because when you think about it, when you really think about it—you never liked sleeping alone. never liked waking up to an empty bed.

and simon—your simon—he knows that. knows you better than you know yourself.

so instead of arguing, instead of pushing him away, you let him tip your chin up with two fingers.

“mine. got that, pet?,” he murmurs.

you nod.

{ people that expressed interest/taglist }

@pyxrin @xxrsi @skeletonsucker @spaceinvadernelly @coeurbrule @forgotmypasswordagain

[bunnis-monsters]

NSFW

warning: slight corruption kink, yandere behavior, panty stealing, breeding kink, dubcon if you squint

EHEHEH thinking about yandere!angel who has never been hard before.

He sees you, such a pretty little human he’s meant to watch over. You’re so soft and plump, your body stirs something in his belly that he doesn’t completely understand.

And he sees you undressing one night, your form completely bare before his very eyes.

Angels always walk around in the nude, they aren’t ashamed of their bodies… so why does his cock start to twitch and harden?

He doesn’t understand, this has never happened before and the feeling is unbearable. Something in his body wants to be closer to you, to… connect with you.

The angel approaches your room, quiet as he opens your window and slides in with ease. He’s not sure what he should do, but he spots your discarded clothing.

It’s shameful, how he even thinks about stealing an item of your clothing. Your panties are your favorite color, lacy with a little bow on the front. He can spot a slight wetness there, and he starts to drool.

Why is his body reacting like this? His cheeks flush a crimson red as he flees your home, your underwear in his hand. He flies far away, as if trying to escape his new, lustful feelings.

He isolates himself in a small cave, slowly draping your panties over his throbbing cock. The feeling of your slick coated panties touching his tip made him hiss out in pleasure.

Of course, the angel had never masturbated before. He came within just a few strokes, but his cock was still so swollen. Every time he thought about your plush frame, his tip dribbled precum, and he couldn’t help but jerk off again.

It just wasn’t enough… soon he felt so sore, and his hands weren’t soft like yours, and he bet your lips or pussy would feel so much better…

He was your protector, wasn’t he? It made sense that he’d get to fuck his precious little cherub, his sweet girl, right?

Wouldn’t it be a blessing to put a baby in your belly?

Usually the angel had no trouble flying, but now he was trying his best to concentrate on getting to your home.

You spot him in the window, your eyes still bleary from sleep. He’s the picture of elegance, with long, flowing blonde hair and gorgeous dark eyes…

“Be not afraid, I am a messenger of god…” he panted, cheeks flushed pink. “You… have been chosen for something… great…”

He walked in, your curtain billowing around him as he stretched out and lightly clapped his snow-white wings.

His eyes were on your skimpy nightgown, and the way it barely covered your plush thighs.

“You’ve been chosen… to carry my child…”

Your plump thighs squished together, causing him to let out an involuntary moan. “Ch-child? How would you… do that? Touch my belly or something, like the Virgin Mary?”

His eyes were clouded with lust as he approached your bed, his hand trembling with need. “No, my sweet girl… I am no God, I’ll have to take a much more… direct approach.”

In an instant he was on top of you, his lips crashing into yours with an urgency only to be expected of a virgin. He was inexperienced, but tasted like honey and was as gentle as he possibly could be.

Already his erection was pressing against your thigh, and he unceremoniously thrusted his hips, trying to get more friction.

You were so damn soft, warm to the touch. It was taking everything in him not to ravish you instantly.

His fingers danced across your clothed cunt, testing the waters. When he pulled his hand back, it was wet and with a soft lick, his eyes went wide.

You tasted amazing.

Though he wanted to devour your fat cunt, he needed yo be inside of you even more. He was in pain, his cock aching and begging your your warmth to envelope him.

You watched his wings twitch as he positioned himself between your legs. The white feathers were soft to the touch, and you held onto them while he pushed in.

The angel couldn’t help himself, the second he felt your warm pussy he went crazy. His head was buried in your neck, his hips slapping against yours as he struggled to control his body.

He had never felt so good before, the angel was committing a terrible sin but he didn’t care, not one bit.

“S-so good, you’ll have your reward in heaven…” he blubbered out, cheeks red and covered in pleasured tears. “God…”

He came so quick, painting your walls white as hips nails dug into your hips.

All he wanted to do now was wrap his wings around you, holding you close. The angel didn’t pull out, you felt way too warm and comfy for that.

As he kissed your head and snuggled with you in bed, he was sure that that this was fate. Perhaps he was meant to lust after you…

You were something special, and no one would take you away from him.

————————

NSFW TAGLIST: @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @murder-hobo @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @keikokashi @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @honey-crypt @karljra @zyettemoon1800 @exodiam @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @enchantedsylveon @mysticranger575 @readeryn68 @danielle143 @kittenlover614 @filthybunny420 @annavittoria-mm @makimamybelovedwife @blubearxy @omglovelylaila @toocollectionchaos-universe-blog @fruk-you-usuk-fans @wil10wthetree @hammerhead96-blog @slightlyusedfloormat @bubblez-blop @sunshineangel-reads @heroneki-neko @soapybabyboop @anonymouskiwi

[ato-dato]

Go on, burst every one of his bubbles why don’t you

[fallenxangel-13]

fallen angel worshipping your body for the first time. eyes widening in adoration, as though seeking salvation in your flesh alone. his fingertips ghost over your soft skin, lips murmuring praises against your bare neck- warm and desperate-before he takes you raw.

"you're so divine," he groans in your ear, his large wings shudder, feathers rustling as he thrusts deeper into you-eager for more. his faintest whispers send shivers down your spine. "forgive me, love.. heaven was wrong. you were made for me. only me. understand?"

[werecreature-addicted]

part one

Fallen angel who can't help but crave sex every moment after you two make love for the first time. He doesn't want to eat or sleep or work, he wants to be balls deep inside your perfect cunt. He's only ever known Devotion, not even as a form of love, but as a way of life, now that he's lost his god he has nothing to devote himself to except for your perfect body and the holy way you cum. He eats you out with the same diligence as he used to pray. He knows your body the way a priest knows the bible. Your cries of pleasure are like gospel music. divine.

He drizzles honey over your tits and sucks your skin clean again, lavishing you with his tongue, teasing your nipples with his teeth. If you're worried that he's not eating enough he'll gladly take every meal at the alter of your breasts.

He feels unworthy when you bathe him, no amount of soap will make him clean again. He doesn't deserve your soft affection. if anything, he should be bathing you, kneeling at your feet, bringing warm water over your body, tenderly washing every inch. but he's not the worshiper he once was, he gets distracted, and he strokes your pussy slowly back and forth, the soap long forgotten as he "cleans" you. He strokes your clit slowly, his breath fluttering as you twitch against the pad of his fingers. He's so lucky to be in the cult of your love, your first and only follower. Normally he knows that people would try to share this pleasure, this sanctum, but the thought of sharing you twists him inside. He thinks he'd kill anyone else who tried to worship you the way he does.

[emmyrosee]

Fluffy fluffy prompt to hubby sukuna or whom ever you choose “awnn my poor baby come here” then he slowly walks towards you rubbing his eyes all soft and tired 🥺

There’s a low grumble behind you that snaps you out of your slicing of fruit, but you merely brush it off before moving onto the next strawberry.

Then, the grumble ripples through the air again, and you keep slicing, trying your best to ignore the noise.

It happens a third time. You giggle, “what, baby?” You put the knife down and turn to face Sukuna, arms crossing over your chest as you look him up and down.

He looks childish, with the comforter wrapped around his shoulders and hair ruffled around messily. His eyes are puffy from sleep and his cheeks hold a little flush, but his lips are still pouted in a scowl. “You left me alone in bed,” he grumbles. “I told you not to do that. Bed gets too cold.”

“Is that the only reason you don’t like me leaving the bed?” You ask, knowing the real answer. But you also know he’ll never say it. He’s stubborn like that.

He offers you a roll of his eyes, “yes, and I hate the cold. You’re aware of this.”

“My poor baby,” you tease, opening your arms for him to shamble into. “C’mere. Let me warm you back up from the mean, evil, cold covers.”

“You’d better,” he murmurs, stalking towards you and into your arms. He opens his own to reveal the corners of the blanket balled into his big fists, and when he embraces you, you’re shrouded in darkness but melting into the warmth that his chest brews. Your laugh softly, and burrow into his chest, which rumbles with a hum in confusion. "Somethin' funny under there?"

"Just dark," you say, wrapping your arms around his waist and gently squeezing him out of cute aggression. "I also can't really breathe, so-"

"Good," he says, resting his head on top of yours, tightening his arms to keep you in place. "Won't have to deal with your ass leaving the bed, messing up my sleep." You laugh some more, only to send a few pokes to his waist, making him jerk away from you and loosen his hold.

"Who's gonna cuddle you at night then?"

"I'm a man, I don't need cuddles."

When you do, however, try to get out of his arms, he grumbles and pulls you tighter again, with an annoyed grunt. "No."

"That's what I thought, Sukuna."

[fullychaotichell]

Can't believe I haven't read the new chapter of OSAS because I was focused on finishing these silly joke doodles pfff

Okay, so, the premise of this joke is that Lucifer and Alastor's relationship has grown so much without anyone else knowing anything about it, but they're also both sillies who have funny ways of showing their friendship and now romance, so I just wanted to doodle that for fun pfff

Also, even tho they promised to keep their romance a secret, I BET these fuckers would get themselves caught, like, they've been caught looking romantic a dozen other times just by Vox alone, not to even mention other characters ppfpfpfp

Anyways, @morningstarwrites I had a peek at the new chapter and saw we're back to team HARD, I'm so happy pfpfpfpf

Bonus:

[theorphicangel]

mdni, 18+

thinking about size difference with toji

it’s almost laughable really, the way his big beefy thighs smack into yours creating filthy vibrations across the room. he’s loud and unashamedly so, grunting in your ear as he ruts into you.

sweat drips from his brow and his hands are imprinted on your waist keeping you in place with your back arched. with just one hand, he can keep you down, his hand abnormally larger than your own.

“god, you’re just so fucking precious aren’t ya ?” he grunts, keeping up his relentless pace. with every thrust little gasps escape from your throat. “my pretty little thing, n’ it’s all mine right?”

you nod dramatically, “s’all yours I swear.”

“good.” he merely huffs out before bottoming out, his balls smacking against your cunt.

“oh god!”

he’s just so big, it feels like he could break you but Toji makes sure to be gentle or at least attempt to be. when your thighs ache and a litter of hickeys are found across your skin, he’s sure enough to place kisses over your sore spots, his tongue licking over where it hurts the most.

[rafesfawn]

🪽🧺 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐂𝐎𝐎𝐋

𝜗ৎ⋆｡˚ when rafe sees a precious little doll on the side of the road with a broke-down car, how can he resist out of the kindness of his heart offering her a ride? just a ride home, that's all...

or how trailerpark!angel!reader and rafe met!

warnings: use of the nickname pet & little one, reader! is eighteen-nineteen! bit of perv!rafe, barely proofread!

a/n: first time writing a rafe fic/blurb! im so excited, also this is based on this ask and thank you so much for sending something I really appreciated it and I hope u like it mwah! I would say you two meet in like early season 2 (right before the cross storyline) also for the format slight ib to others on here esp @rafesangelita (sorry for the tag!)

this was based off of this ask! which tysm i literally love requests and rafe and trailerpark!angel!reader is my new obsession <3

a small, meaningless kick was made to the tire while you huffed and groaned, putting two hands over your frustrated features as all you wanted to curl up into a ball and cry.

“piece of shit,” you mumbled under your breath, kicking the tire once more, but immediately a whimper fell from your lips. the pain shot from your toe up to your spine. making you sniffle and tip-toe in pain. in your denim ruffle skirt, white socks, and pink converse, you sat down on the asphalt, on the side of the road, leaning against the side of your broken-down car.

she wasn’t the best car, but she surely got you around most of the time. most of the time. it was a little volkswagen beetle, light pink in color, covered in so many stickers some wondered if it was passing inspection. it wasn't.

sitting with your head against the car for what felt like hours (it was maybe ten minutes), but spending even that on the side of a main road in kildare island was torture. especially with the beating sun late august provided.

rafe was speeding down the road on the way to play golf and get drunk with topper and kelce. “ah shit, i don’t know, man.” he said into his phone, holding it up with one hand; his voice gruff and confident, topper on the other line. “you really think i won’t kick your ass today huh?” a smirk grew on his already smug expression.

letting out a short chuckle at toppers response, nothing anybody ever said meant more than a laugh to him. or that's what it used to be like anyway, his act wasn't together if anything, it was worse than it'd ever been. his father condemning him to disingenuous "discipline" to forget about the possible death of his golden daughter.

"the fuck?" he mutters into the mic, his voice laced with confusion. as he sees up ahead on the road, a pink car broken down, with the most precious thing sitting against it. a pout on the angels soft lips and the most defeated look in her eye. aw, you just fell right into my lap, didn't you? little angel.

your eyes glued on the pavement, your entertainment of watching a little ladybug try to make it to safety in the distance, was shortly interrupted.

a nice black truck coming into view it came to such a short stop it almost took your breath away, the breaks slightly screeching at the haste. a tire replaced the spot the ladybug once was.

you stood brushing the dirt and gravel off the backsides of your pale thighs, left bare by the short fabric of your skirt.

the man stepped out of the truck. he was tall, and the sleeves of his polo looked like they were about to burst at the seams, not able to contain the biceps beneath. his features strong and statue-like, his deep sea eyes hidden behind the curtain bangs that hung over his forehead. a grin that seemed too genuine, too good to be true.

you removed your heart-shaped sunglasses, placing them on top of your head to see him more clearly. your possible savior, but he was anything but.

he stepped a bit closer, seeing the state of her already pretty beaten car, "having some car trouble?" rafe asked as if he wasn't stating the obvious.

you pretended he wasn't either as you nodded, the frown only slight now but still on your lips as your eyes remained looking up into his.

"aw.. poor thing we can't have that, what happened?" his voice, a mockery of sympathy. as he inspected the piece of shit car she loved so much. his care coming from a place of ownership, of burning ache or want.

still, in slight shock, you hadn't answered him, following behind him as he reopened the hood like he owned the car. not even realizing you'd been rude and not replied till he spoke again. "little one, i can't fix it if you don't tell me what's wrong." a heady mix of gentle and firm that made your mouth go dry and your head dizzy.

"oh- it's been on her last limb for like ever, i guess she finally called it quits... right on my way home." you said with a little sad laugh that rafe wanted to bottle the sound of and listen to on repeat. "and I really need to get home," you added fiddling with your fingers in front of you.

a sweet girl all out of options, rafe was so glad he was here to provide her with his help. "tell you what, I'll take you home and come back and fix this thing up for you, huh?" he offered, there goes his saturday plans he presumed. it'd be worth it. he told himself he'd make it worth it, with those shy eyes and the expression you carried like a lost puppy. you'd owe him he'd make sure to get something in return.

just like he figured, you shook your head. never wanting to accept such a grand favor. "I can't ask you to do that, I mean, I don't even know your name." nerves, curiosity, and a glint of something else tinged in your voice, so many wonders in that head as soon as his truck came to a stop for you. why? the only question running through your mind.

"It's rafe, can I help you out now?" his genuine grin turned almost smug at his own remark, brushing that bangs out his face, the effort pointless as they immediately fell back again.

you paused. picking at the already chipped white nail polish on your sore fingertips, a larger-rougher hand covered your own, stopping your movements with that firm gentleness he carried around her. you looked up at him, he was so much closer. the scent of some cologne that probably could pay your rent, and a tinge of smokey wood filled your senses.

"pet?" he questioned with an expecting tilt of his head, calling you that like it was the most natural thing in the world.

your body and mouth responding before giving another second for your brain or anxiety to think it over, you nodded. "can you please give me a ride home?" you hesitantly asked, it felt weird. getting help, and even asking for it felt foreign, he offered it so graciously like it was nothing.

looking down upon her, his grin turned genuine once again, his eyes seemed almost proud it was a soothing balm to her nervous heart. a rosy hue to her cheeks as his palm covered the side of her neck, making a few pats to the flesh before leading her to his truck.

you'd owe him. something he was sure you were ready for.

[deep-space-lines]

I know Gabriel is canonically really popular with Heaven’s residents but there’s bound to be some heavenly loser with pronoun envy

[technically-human]

Bisexual crisis Crystal edition

[sai-int]

fwb!simon, reader catches feelings- NO. FWB!SIMON BUT SIMON CATCHES FEELINGS. [ pt 2 ]

--

it's quite simple.

simon comes home from a mission, he's restless, twitching, pacing, can't figure out what to do with his hands.

so what does he do? he knocks on your door, waiting anxiously until you open it and he's scooping you up, hauling you across the hall and into his basically empty apartment, and fucking you into the mattress for the night.

and you're just so good at taking it—whatever he gives you and whenever he gives it. you cry, whine, beg and plead for his cock in all the ways you know how—until you go blue in the face—and simon fucking revels in it. he's all harsh words and degrading names, calling you a filthy slut, his cocksleeve, a fucking cumdump—you name it, he's probably said it.

it's perfect, until it's not.

he's spent months fucking you stupid, night after night. he fucks you even when he's not restless. he fucks you when he's bored, when he's lonely. especially when he's lonely.

simon riley's a gridlocked man. hardly anything ever gets past him, but it didn't take many rendezvous between your thighs for him to forget that.

his mask would come fully off—not just above his lips—and you'd still kiss him breathless, still scream his name until your throat went hoarse. you weren't afraid of everything underneath. if anything, you liked it.

It's not like the both of you frequently exchanged actual conversations, but he could tell by the way you dripped and soaked his sheets even more than you ever had.

after that, he even began to gather enough courtesy to let you get some rest after he fucks you, letting you stay wrapped in his sheets for whatever sliver of the night was left.

you never pushed, and that's what he liked most about you. you always went by his terms because you never really cared as long as you got fucked six ways from sunday.

so, you always left when he woke without a problem. that was the arrangement and you were more than fine with getting a good fuck only a few steps away from your own home.

then even you began to notice the shift.

simon could never fuck you badly, per se. but he began to fuck you more softly. tenderly, as if he was suddenly aware that humans shouldn't be bent in half as long he's had you pinned underneath him in the past. he'll rock his hips into you with similar fervor, but he'd caress you, rather than grab at you. hold your forehead to his, rather than choke you with his thick hands.

then came the praise. god, it's like fucking a completely different man. from one week to the next, you're no longer a slut or a hole, you're pretty girl and angel. it makes your head spin. you try to pinpoint the change and why it happened, but you can't. somehow, you cum twice as hard now.

it all came to an ugly head when he spent the better part of 2 hours between your thighs, moaning and groaning as if you were doing him a service.

now, you weren't going to complain, but love just wasn't in the cards for you right now, and the looks simon was giving you from where he lapped at your cunt were filled with adoration, like he was waiting for you to tell him how good he was doing.

hell, you could see a phantom tail wagging each time his eyes met your own. and after a session that felt more like making love than an explosion of pure lust, you could feel his eyes lingering on you as you slipped your panties back on.

"what?" you hum, not wanting to face him in fear you'd see that godforsaken look in his eyes again.

and you were right, because he's staring at you like he's about to drop to one knee. "nothin'."

you toss your shirt back over your head and steel yourself as you turn to face him.

"simon," you start and he's already hanging on your words, "what's going on with you lately? i don't mean to sound rude but—"

this is it, he thinks. it has to be now, or nothing will change. he's not a religious man, but if he's ever prayed to god for anything, it's for this to become something real.

"'m in love with ya."

one blink, then two. two to three, three to four. you stare at him as you try to piece together what he's saying.

"simon, i don't think you understand—"

"—i do. i do understand and i want ya, bad. so bad, i can't even stop thinkin' bout ya, sweetheart. even when y'not 'ere im thinkin' about ya. everything about y'is perfect, and i don't think i can function without y'with me."

this is the most emotion you've ever seen out of simon and it rocks you to your core. if you didn't know better—and if the lighting wasn't so dim—you'd think he was tearing up.

you didn't know how to break it to him.