Friendly reminders to cis fanfic writers that afab≠woman

Afab means assigned female at birth so this includes/can include cis women, trans men, transmasc people, nonbinary people, and intersex people.

If you’re making a fic where the reader is a woman, uses she/her, wears feminine clothing, etc. tag it as fem reader instead.

I’ve been smacked in the face as a trans man by reading fics tagged afab thinking it will be gender neutral, but the reader is actually a woman and I’m disappointed because I was ready for a fic I thought would apply to me.

Have fun writing and make sure you’re tagging your fics properly, ty <3

Thinking about Yandere Toji eating out a transmasc reader, chuckling in amusement when they try to crawl away and call for help, but he just yanks them back and flips them on their back, and throws their trembling legs over his shoulders.

"baby boy, we've been over this. I've earned this. I've protected you all this time and all I ask is to have a taste, I don't think that's too much to ask"

Ugh just abusing their t-dick and sucking on it like its a punishment until they cover his face in their juices, weakly and feebly shoving at his face but there's no point, what Toji wants Toji gets

And they just weakly cry out when that wicked tongue slips inside of them and his fingers abuse their sensitive nub, making tears leak down their face in shame as they climax against their stalkers face and listen to him groan in satisfaction

just some good yandere Toji thoughts

-Mommabean

Hi just found your account, love it btw <3. Also just started One Piece after watching the One Piece Live Action, I'm so hopelessly in love with Live Action Zoro 😫

Feel free to ignore, it's just that I'm head empty with my only thought being this hc.

once zoro has you in his arms while cuddling, you've fallen into a trap that you can't escape from. Because he will fall asleep on you in five minutes and he will have a death grip around you. no matter how hard you try he just will not let you go until he wakes up. you're mad at him for holding you hostage for hours and he promises of cuddles and kisses to make up for it. too bad that you're a little slow and realize your mistake too late, and you're trapped in his arms once more

Soft zoro has me in a chokehold I- akrjakgowlngpw

am I hugging my pillow as hard as I can imagining this? yes, yes I am

WELCOME TO THE JOURNEY ANON .. y’all need to stop praising me you’ll make my ego rise ALSO WOOO 200 FOLLOWERS

opla!zoro x reader

notes : this is pirate hunter era zoro because i barely see stuff for him. i love this stinky man hope you don’t mind that it’s transmasc reader

roronoa zoro was not normally a touch starved man you both weren’t , but for some odd reason he just couldn’t let go of you . what was supposed to be a nap that you two took took together later turned into into you trying to escape from the green-haired man’s clutches.

“zoro”

silence

“zoro”

followed by more silence

“zoro let me go—“ you were cut off as he brung the hilt of one of his swords to your lips trying to shush you

“shhhh it’s sleepy time”

“roronoa zoro I swear to the gods… did you just say sleepy time?”

you were once again cut off by the snoring noises of the man beneath you , making you roll your eyes . you attempted to remove yourself from his grip once more before plopping down and giving up and crossing your arms in frustration.

“stupid marimo” you mummered as you just attempted to make yourself comfortable because when this man sleeps he likes to sleep.

after a few hours he had finally woken up placing his head on shoulder and wrapping his arms around your waist.

“afternoon” he yawned pulling you close

“sleep well?” you asked clearly annoyed crossing your arms.

“with you here? of course” he replied poking your cheeks as you playfully glared at him “m sorry want me to kiss you and give you cuddles to help” he asked as you hummed and he placed a kiss on your lips

wait a minute

“i - zoro- “

“nope too late not letting you go now”

“fuck you”

“i’ll do that later pretty boy”

So I saw a MSFW picture of Miguel and I had an idea.

Stepfather Miguel x FTM reader. The plot is that stepfather Miguel has been possessive and obsessed with his ftm stepson and the stepson actually enjoyed the older man’s attention.

The main smexy part is that Miguel asks his stepson to give him a pink desert. The reader thought Miguel meant a cake until Miguel pushes him on the kitchen counter and starts eating out his pussy (the pink desert was the readers cunt.)

- 🍒 anon. (You don’t have to do this request if it makes you uncomfortable! Love your works.)

TW: SMUT, EAT OUT, DIRTY THOUGHTS, CHUBBY/DAD BODY MIGUEL, FTM READER, BRAIN ROT, HANDJOB, STEPFATHER X STEPSON.

I think it's cute when anons use emojis to identify themselves (⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)⁠✧⁠*⁠。

art credit @/marmar0u on twitter (X)

Miguel was a man of forty-three years old, with a poorly groomed beard and some white hair in his locks ─ despite his tall stature he already had a "dad body" physique with a protruding tummy and some rough muscles in his arms and thighs... And now he had entered your family. You didn't like the idea of ​​having a stepfather at first, but what was supposed to be a bad relationship became like a balm for your stressful days.

It was common for the older man to spoil you with expensive gifts like perfumes, clothes and everything you asked for or wanted; your desires were his desires too. Honestly, it seemed like he was more attached to you than his own wife. Miguel protected you from everyone who tried to go against you and you could always count on his soft lap and good hugs at the end of the day. Your stepfather loved having you in his arms, close to him... In his control.

It was obvious to outsiders that Miguel was a man obsessed with you, possessive and jealous. No man or woman could come close to his beloved stepson ─ he used manipulation, threats and even money to keep you all to himself, especially being the only father figure you had in your life. Bringing you close to him with praise for every little thing you did wasn't difficult, especially when you cooked for him.

In the distorted head of your dear stepfather, every dish made for him was a preparation for you to be his little husband one day, perhaps when he would have enough courage to ask for a divorce from your mother; but until then he liked to have control of his body and mind.

── That was supposed to be an ordinary night, the warm afternoon gloom still hung in the air as you walked around the house to prepare dinner since your mother had gone out to visit some of your relatives. You obviously preferred to stay in the company of your stepfather Miguel, who was drinking some beer in the living room armchair and watching every move you made around the kitchen.

He had controlled himself a lot in the last few days and gave you more personal space than he should have, making you even meet new people. Jealousy consumed every fiber of the tanned man's being, leading him to have a simple idea to put you in your place.

"You know boy, I wanted you to make a pink dessert would you give me?" His voice came out hoarse as you watched the older man stand up to his full height, as you saw him smirk mischievously, his adam's apple bobbed visibly, desire pooling in his voice.

You initially agreed innocently, already getting ready to get the ingredients and make a strawberry cake, but soon you felt thick calloused hands on your wrists as he bent you under the cold marble counter and pulled down your shorts along with your underwear ── exposing the pink flesh of your pussy, while you felt his breath mixed with expensive drink. Miguel savored the sight of your exposed little cunt, his hunger growing with each passing second. He lowered his head further, capturing your clitoris between his lips and flicking it gently with his tongue.

"Oh, you taste delicious mi hijo," he moaned against your flesh, suckling and nibbling at your sensitive bud. His hands gripped your thighs harder, spreading you wide open for his pleasure. He paused momentarily, admiring the pink folds of your sex before delving back in, eager to explore every inch of you. His tongue darted inside, teasing and probing, causing your hips to buck deliciously.

"I could eat you out all night, boy... Does it feel good? Is this what you wanted, baby boy?" His fingers dug gently into your thighs, seeking permission with his gaze. As you nodded regardless of whether it is right or wrong he dove back in, licking and sucking your clit with renewed vigor, savoring the taste of you. His tongue danced around, teasing your folds and driving you further into pleasure.

He growled low in his throat, responding to the dominance behind your request. His fingers bit into your flesh harder, claiming ownership as he devoured your pussy. Each thrust of his tongue was a claim, each suckle a promise. An intense heat surged between us, fueling the connection and burning brighter with every pass.

He thrust blindly, driven by a newfound ferocity. The sweetest sound escaped your mouth-your pleas for 'papi'-and he used it to feed his hunger. His free hand reached for his erection, stroking it through his boxers ─ "So you enjoy being ravaged by your papi, mi pequeño?" Miguel purred, his grip on his cock tightening as he watched your reaction.

Each stroke matched the rhythm of his tongue, mirroring the passion between you both.

Every time he swirled it around your clit, his shaft leapt in his hand, pulsating in sync. His tongue lashed at your most sensitive spots, eliciting fresh moans from deep within you.

The combination of stimulation left you gasping under his careful touch; Miguel was determined to send you high... A desperate need to please, to dominate, consumed him entirely. His beard scraped against your skin with each frantic movement, adding another layer to the sensations engulfing you.

His tongue lashed at your clit, twirling it one last time to push you over the edge. His hand pumped furiously, matching the intensity of your release. Watching you climax drove him wild, a surge of pure hunger coursing through him. He pulled away reluctantly, leaving your pussy wet and quivering from the attention. With a final, satisfied stroke, he came undone, splattering onto his stomach. A growl resonated in the air as he relished the view of your satisfaction.

His chest rose and fell heavily, his gaze locked on your flushed face. Victory and possession painted across his features, a silent declaration of his newfound control. Your stepfather leaned down to kiss your dripping slit, a quiet congratulations for reaching a peak only he could provide.

"Next time, it'll be my turn mi hijo... Thanks for the dessert."

Transmasc Darling, in the early stages of his voice training - voice a bit higher than usual: I don't know who the fuck you think you are-

Yan: Babe, voice-

Transmasc Darling: Oh, shit - thanks- [clears his throat, speaking from his chest] I don't know who the fuck you think you are crawling through my window at the ass crack of dawn-

Blind Date

bottom!ftm reader x top!step dad (Joel Miller, William Afton, Enji Todoroki, etc.)

AFAB Language Used (cunt, pussy, t-dick)

CW: Jealousy, Quickie, Daddy Kink, Creampie

When your step father found out you were going on a blind date, the anger and jealousy he felt was very obvious. He's very possessive and doesn't like the idea of other people thinking they have a chance with you. You reassured him that you have no intention of going out with whoever you're meeting, you're only going because your friend’s been begging you to go for ages. You couldn't tell them you're in a relationship because then they'd get curious and find out you're dating your step dad. That wouldn't turn out so well so you decided to just go and get it over with.

“I'm going out now.” You go to unlock the door. He presses his crotch up against your ass and grinds into you.

“Not yet, sweetheart.” He pulls your pants down along with your underwear and does the same to himself. He slides his hard cock in between your thighs and slowly thrusts along your cunt. He strokes your t-dick as he softly sucks on your neck.

“Mmh- make it quick-” You moan. He slips his dick inside of you and doesn't waste any time waiting for you to adjust. You told him to make it quick after all. You press your hands against the wall and moan as he pounds into you.

“Don't let him touch you.” He says, voice low and dominant. “I don't want to even imagine his hands on your body.”

“I won't-” You let out a gasp. “I promise, Daddy-”

“Good boy. Wish I could claim you and show everyone who you belong to.” He kisses your cheek. “You know what would make me feel better?” A smirk grows on his face. You hum. “If you let me come inside you.” He slows down.

“I won't have time to clean up.”

“Who said you would clean it up?”

You blush and bite your lip. He wants you to go to the date with his cum inside you. Fuck. “Okay.”

He slams into you a few times before ejaculating, plastering the walls of your pussy with his cum.

You pull up your pants and press a soft kiss to his lips. “I’ll be back as soon as possible.”

NERDS FIRST - NERD! MIGUEL O’HARA X JOCK! FTM! READER

📚: in which you have a little fun with the schools nerd.

miguel didn’t expect his day to end like this. he came into the library in study for his big test, but you had other plans. you had come from one of your games, you saw him and grinned.

you wrapped your arms around his neck and whispered in his ear; “migs! whatcha doing?”

miguel jumped from the contact on his neck and mumbled; “j-just studying for an exam..”

you sat in his lap and he whimpered. his cock had already hardened from the simple touch on his neck. you palmed at it for a bit before sighing dramatically.

“such a big dick.. too bad you don’t know how to use it..” you cooed as miguel placed his shaking hands on your hips. 

“go on, baby, strip me slowly.” you whispered into his ear. miguel immediately obliged, his trembling fingers slowly tugging on your shorts, revealing your soaked boxers. 

miguel unknowingly licked his lips and slid off your boxers, revealing your soaked pussy. he quickly switched your positions, pushing you onto the table and laying you on your back.

“can i..?” he whispered breathlessly as he lifted your legs onto your shoulder. you gave an affirming nod and he instantly shoved his face in your pussy, no warning. you let out a loud moan as miguel licked your folds desperately.

of course, since he didn’t get any girls or guys, he was pretty bad at this. but it’s the thought that counts, right?

miguel ate you out like a starving man, he was nose deep in you, licking and moaning like a whore. his fingers slowly rubbed your clit, causing you to whimper loudly. you rocked your hips against his face, his pace was painfully slow. miguel got the memo and had an idea. he took two thick fingers and rammed it into you, causing you to cry out in pleasure. he fingered and ate you out at the same time, causing your legs to shake and your orgasm to creep closer. 

miguel took the curtesy to aggressively thrust his fingers in and out of you while his mouth worked on your clit, sucking and biting on it softly as he felt his cock leak.

you whined when all sensations suddenly stopped. you tried to look up but got cut off by miguel slamming into you with no warning. you moaned as miguel whimpered at the sudden tightness of your hole. you pulled miguel into a sloppy kiss, moaning into each others mouths as miguel rutted into you desperately.

“good boy, s-such a good boy..” you said between kisses as miguel kept thrusting aggressively. 

©bellinghamenthusiast 2024. do not steal or plagiarize my work!

A Lion in Your Den

Yandere Male Lion Hybrid Android x Transmasc Reader (CW: Non-con, breakup, depression, disassociation, overstimulation, drug induced pleasure, general yandere behavior) EXTRA NOTE: The term “pussy” is used to refer to transmasc genitals, this may potentially give some transmasc readers dysphoria so I just wanted to be extra clear on what is in this fic. Word Count: 4.5k (Big thanks to the commissioner, they paid way above my normal rate for this just so I could finish my garden and feed the senior center as well as my family. They wished to remain anonymous so I will not tag them, but I still just wanted everyone to know how awesome the commissioner is.)

The day had started like any other, you went to work and thought of taking the love of your life, Marcus, out to dinner later to get you through the day. You largely kept to yourself, got your work done, and turned to your happy thoughts when things got too unbearable. And when you got home after work to prepare for your date with your beloved, things were still going great. You took great care in getting and looking immaculate, you donned your best suit, which your android butler had kept pristine for you. “What do you think Ash,” you asked, doing a slow turn to show him how you looked. “You look amazing today sir, very handsome, I am sure Marcus will think so too!” Though his opinion was a bit biased, you were sure he would let you know if anything was seriously amiss with your attire. Ash was your android butler, he attended to you basically acting as a personal assistant and housekeeper. He cooked, cleaned, kept you organized, and in general just helped keep your days moving with a good flow. You were lucky you could afford him, feline mandroids were pretty expensive but your salary as a member of upper management at the company that manufactured these androids, along with an employee discount, meant you could get one. Ash was a later model, based on a lion. Not as petite as the domestic cat based model, and their personalities were less timid, and it was not uncommon to see them employed as bodyguards. You could easily see Ash in such a role, his image was certainly intimidating, standing 7ft tall was long ginger hair, lion like ears on the top of his head, a tail, sharp fangs, and glowing yellow eyes. With Ash’s affirmation that you looked fine and that you weren’t forgetting anything you grabbed your keys and headed to your car to meet Marcus at the park from which you would take a pleasant stroll down the street to a lovely seafood restaurant at which you had booked reservations. You pulled into the park’s parking lot and saw Marcus sitting on the bench waiting for you, you were a few minutes early so you knew he had been very early. One of the things you loved about him, always on time and never once stood you up. That was of course only one minor thing you admired about him, he was so sweet and open about himself, in contrast with your more reserved personality. He was also always wanting to go do things, go on adventures and see the sights, it was refreshing. And in bed he was great, always letting you on top, letting you cover him in bites while he moaned and whimpered submissively below you. In all areas of life he was extremely compatible with you, that’s why tonight you were going to ask him to take the next step with him towards spending the rest of your life with him. You had made all the preparations, so sure that he would say yes. You were going to ask him to move in with you. You knew he was having trouble keeping up with rent and this way he wouldn’t have to worry about that at all, you could take care of him. You even cleared a spare room for him to put all his stuff into. As you approached him he seemed a little nervous, though that wasn’t unusual, he always was whenever the two of you were on an outing where there would be people like at a restaurant or anything like that, he always calmed down and enjoyed himself eventually. You loved how he always calmed down when you held hands. He stood up and you silently took his hand before pulling him close and planting a chaste kiss on his cheek. “I am so glad I get to see you tonight, I thought about you all day at work, I know you love seafood so you are going to love this place I promise,” you said to him excitedly. He seemed a bit distant and distracted which wasn’t much like him, but you didn’t press him on it, he was probably just hyper-fixating on some small issue at work or something like that. When you were at the restaurant everything was pleasant enough. The food was good and flavorful, the zest of lemon imbued fish dancing on your tongue, the smell of freshly prepared seafood hanging thickly in the air, and the ambient sounds of other customers chatting and the scraping of silverware against their plates. Mainly you just enjoyed Marcus’ company and engaged in small talk and light banter, but eventually you started talking about your future together and were about to bring up the prospect of him moving in with you, but before you had a chance to take the conversation that far he interrupted you. “Look uh, we need to talk…” Uh-oh. No conversation between partners that started that way ever ended well. The conversation wasn’t one you could recall completely, you were so anxious and more than a bit dizzy, but the gist was that he was breaking up with you and did not feel that spark anymore. You remembered dropping your fork and hearing it clatter against your plate, and you remembered still experiencing the sounds and smell of an eatery and all the other patrons carrying on blissfully with their lives even as your world was completely shattered. You remembered Marcus apologizing and putting some money on the table before awkwardly getting up and leaving. And finally you remembered all of this as if you were not experiencing this first hand but almost as if you were floating a bit out of body and watching all of this unfold from a detached perspective. And that is how you were as you asked for the check, walked back to your car, and drove home, completely detached and out of it, as if you were just floating on auto-pilot going through all of the motions without really experiencing them or having proper presence of mind, it was like the spirit, the very ability to experience emotions beyond a dull whisper of what you should be experiencing, had left your body. When you arrived home of course Ash greeted you in his normal optimistic and ready to please manner as soon as you opened the door, before he even got a chance to look at you, “Hello, sir did the date go well, how’s Marcus? Did you ask him about mov- Oh, are you okay? What happened?” Finally looking at you, Ash could immediately tell there was something very wrong by the way that you stared ahead blankly and the change in the way with which you usually carried yourself. You responded only by brushing past him and walking upstairs to your bedroom and closing the door behind you before locking it and laying on your bed. You did not even bother to change out of your nice clothes. What was the point? What was the point of anything anymore? Ash tried a few times over the course of what remained of the night to knock on your door and get you to tell him what was wrong, but you just ignored him, in truth you barely noticed. You still felt like everything was distant. Your android was worried, and as the days progressed he grew more worried, it was a long weekend so it wasn’t too bad at first but then you did something you never did, you called off of work. Since you refused to talk about what had happened on the night of your date he had to get into contact with Marcus and finally found out the reason for your radical change in behavior. He knew humans were sentimental things that built attachments to one another and to future plans, but he had no idea that the loss of a relationship could so drastically alter someone. Especially someone as reserved and seemingly well put together as yourself. Ash looked into it, accessing data from top psychologists and neuroscientists and experts on all things to do with relationships. Most advice said to heal you would need time and some distraction to take your mind off the trauma of the loss of your mate. So time is what he gave you, but try as he might you would not allow yourself to be distracted. He tried fun activities, engaging in your favorite hobbies, getting you new games to play, cooking fun and exciting new dishes that were sure to please you given his extensive knowledge of what you enjoyed, but nothing worked. You were perfectly content to stay in your room, ignore him, and consume junk that was certainly not ideal for your body. After a week and a half of this you finally returned back to work, and Ash was thrilled, he was sure the spell had been broken. But, no, you were just going through the motions as detached as you had been since your breakup. Sure, you were taking slightly better care of yourself, maintaining your sleep schedule, cleaning up better, but you were still just going through the motions, like a plastic bag caught in a breeze you were not really trying to break out of the cycle, you were just doing what was necessary, and keeping your job was necessary when you ran out of vacation time. Ash, though running out of ideas, was trying very hard to break you out of your funk. He was only trying relatively small things, in an effort to follow the advice and let you have time to heal naturally, but there was all of 0 progress on that front. The lion man missed your old self more and more, the way how even though you were a quiet person you would talk about Marcus and your plans together for extended periods, the way your face lit up when you were thinking about him, or the way you always wore a big grin when you were heading out the door to see him or when he was on his way over. Ash loathed seeing you reduced to this mere shadow of a husk of a human being. You were more robotic at this point than any modern android! Finally he decided that he would have to ignore the traditional and well regarded advice and do something slightly more drastic. After all, each human was extremely unique and there were always going to be some that did not respond to traditional methods. It was becoming clear after a couple months that you needed more than just time. The first larger attempt Ash made in hastening your recovery was to get you out of the house. You didn’t see the point in doing so, but due to his sheer persistence you finally acquiesced to his request. He was careful not to take you anywhere that you had been to with your ex, nothing with any possible romantic connotation, instead trying out new experiences to get you to make happy new memories. For your part it was actually nice to get outside and enjoy the fresh air a bit. Left to your own devices you’d probably just be back in your house or working overtime to just distract you from having to face any emotions that sometimes welled up to the surface. Though Ash was happy that you were at least now willing to get out of the house when pestered, it did not lead to the change in you that he thought it would, the fact he could get you out of the bedroom was at least a sign to him that he was on the right track. Now was the time to press forward with this tiny bit of momentum. His programming and research combined with his personal knowledge and care for your well being led the machine to come to the conclusion that you really should not be so hung up on Marcus. In fact, having a new romantic interest may just be the thing that you needed. And now that he could get you out of the house you may be amicable out of the house. But you absolutely were not entertaining that idea, you pointed out that you just were not ready. And what if you got hurt again? You told Ash to just drop the idea, it wasn’t happening. His programming and drive to make you back to your old love struck self overrode your demand though. He did consider your very logical point about getting hurt again though, a second heartbreak on top of this one could be disastrous if you pursued love again and failed, but he came up with an easy workaround to that roadblock. He would simply date you himself! And he would make sure that you never ever broke up under any circumstances. It was the perfect solution. You could be head over heels for him and he could keep you safe and stop any human from shattering your heart again. Of course he would have to do this stealthily, otherwise he was sure you would just reject this idea outright. He was pretty confident in his ability to pull this off, he would just make the outings he dragged you to gradually more romantic. You’d been so out of it and distracted lately that you surely wouldn’t notice until you were head over heels for him, maybe even more so than you had been with your last mate. He did have several advantages over a normal human after all. The first of the secret “dates” that he had planned was just an extension to what you had done with him previously. Instead of just enjoying some fresh air and the pleasant view of nature surrounding you, Ash had personally made some of your favorite foods that were suitable to take on a picnic. You were not as numb as you had been immediately following your breakup with Marcus, but it came in waves, sometimes you felt your emotions were pretty muted and other times you were sad, but sometimes you felt like you were almost approaching the vicinity of okay. Thankfully during the picnic you were in one of the nearly okay periods, so it was actually a rather nice distraction from everything. It seemed like hanging out with Ash was the only distraction you had lately, other than work, and it seemed you had come to rely on them, they gave you a bit of structure to cling to outside of work hours, since Ash was so consistent and predictable when he scheduled them. When you felt more off you did not eat much so since you felt better you ate a decent amount of what your android had made for you. He had memorized all your favorites and fixed them custom tailored to your taste buds. As you sat and enjoyed nature his hand lightly grazed yours, you let it linger for a moment before slowly pulling away, not thinking anything of it other than he just accidentally had it there. With some effort you managed to push aside the thoughts of how it had reminded you of your ex, funny how such a simple accident could spark thoughts of past romance. The second “date” that Ash took you on was to a movie, it was to a franchise that you had long been a fan of and this entry in the series looked like it was going to be really great. When it was announced your loyal and ever caring android notified you immediately and ordered the tickets the second the movie was showing in the theater closest to you. The lion android fetched some popcorn and a large drink for you before shuffling into a seat beside you. Before your breakup you had not spent so much time outside the home with Ash but you were quickly considering him your best friend now, it wasn’t too odd or frowned upon anymore, plenty of people had machines for friends nowadays, AI had become extremely advanced. As the movie played you become wholly engrossed in the film, it commanded every ounce of your attention. You did not even notice when Ash gently put his arm around you or when you instinctively leaned into it. You didn’t realize what had transpired until the end of the movie when you looked away from the screen, almost half expecting to see Marcus. Almost forgetting for a moment, even after all this time, about things having ended between the two of you. Your cheeks flushed red and you felt a twinge of anxiety in your chest and apologized to Ash before hurrying to the car. He gave you a few moments before he followed after you and got in, silently driving you back home. Though you were typically the driver Ash had started taking the driver seat more often than he had previously. The ride passed in awkward silence until you finally arrived home. After ignoring what had happened at the theater long enough it was like it had never happened and it completely left your mind. Ash was just trying to be comforting, it didn’t mean anything, it wasn’t that big of a deal. He wasn’t a human, so he was bound to get romantic and platonic behaviors eventually. And you had been caught up in the movie, you wouldn’t have leaned into him otherwise. Ash, on the other hand, was positive that his plan was working. It may have ended with a bit of awkwardness and denial on your part, but he had successfully engaged in maintained physical contact with you for the duration of a date and that was by far the biggest amount of progress he had achieved since he started this plan to get you romantically involved with him. All you needed now was a bit of space to process things and then the android could move on to the third date. Third dates were very special for humans, normally meaning sex, and he was more than happy to please you in that regard, he knew he would be able to perform well, he had a number of features that humans lacked. He had everything planned out, there was a fancy new restaurant that had just opened a few weeks ago and he had convinced you to let him make reservations for the two of you. Ash was excited to enjoy a romantic meal with you, androids of his design could ingest food like a human and use it as fuel though he rarely did so. But he was more excited to just be on a romantic evening with you, what had started as a mission to cheer you up and prevent you from ever experiencing the emotional anguish of another breakup quickly became a mission to also sate his own growing desire and love for you. After experiencing these new and complex emotions he was eager to explore them farther with you. He was practically giddy with anticipation. The dinner was going fine for you, though your overzealous android companion had not perhaps the awareness needed to realize that this establishment was one that normally only couples went to for more fancy and romantic outings, so you were a bit self conscious wondering what people may think. But you didn’t say anything, Ash seemed happy to once more get you out of the house and you didn’t want to sour his mood. Ash misinterpreted your slightly embarrassed blush as a sign that you may finally really be having strong emotions for him as he had developed for you but you were still just a bit shy about it. Maybe you had even found out that these outings were dates and you were nervous about what was supposed to happen after the third one. Aside from an occasional stare from another customer at the restaurant and maybe some slight side-eye from the waiter, dinner went well, but once you got home Ash’s demeanor changed. Dramatically. He held the door open for you as usual but once he stepped into the house he stared at you not unlike a lion about to pounce on some long stalked prey. Ash quickly closed the distance between the two of you and pressed his lips against yours, placing his hand on the back of your head and leaving you locked in a deep kiss as his tongue invaded your mouth. You tried to push him off but there was no relent until he was finished. When he finally broke the kiss you were left gasping for air. “Oh, sorry sir, I got a bit carried away there.” “Ash… what the fuck!?” “No this is foreplay, the fuck comes after!” “Huh? What, no, why did you kiss me?” He put his hands on your hips and pulled you close before nipping your ear and whispering, “This is a common occurrence after humans have a third date, part of the mating ritual~” You struggled once more to push him away, only managing to now do so because he allowed it. “Oh, you’re doing that “playing hard to get” part of the ritual that many humans like, I have come across it in my research, don’t worry I am more than happy to accommodate!” Before you could respond he was back to kissing you aggressively before biting your neck. “Stop it Ash, really! You’re scaring me! We aren’t dating!” “No need to be shy about it! I know some people look down on androids dating their humans, but come on. All the outings? All the time spent together to heal your broken heart? We both know that was dating!” “That’s fucking insane, your reasoning is way of-” Your words were interrupted with yet another forceful kiss, this time accompanied by him grinding his knee into your crotch through your clothing, causing you to whimper a bit without meaning to. Without notice he quite literally swept you off your feet and hoisted you over his shoulder. With his immense android strength it was as easy for him as picking up a ten pound bag would be for you. You did not bother to struggle as he carried you up the stairs, even if you did manage to remove yourself from his grasp all you would have accomplished was a nice tumble down. Instead you opted to wait until he put you down. Once he set you on the bed in your room you made a dash for it, but were quickly pulled back and laid on the bed with Ash pinning you down effortlessly. In addition to their immense strength, androids also had reflexes far superior than any human could possibly hope to match. The lion android slammed you a bit roughly on the bed, still lost in his delusion that you are just enjoying “playing hard to get”. He pressed his lip to yours once more, a string of drool connecting your lips as he pulled back from the kiss. His eyes looked absolutely crazed as he stared down at you for a few seconds that felt like an eternity. When he stopped admiring you with his unnerving stare he quickly ripped off your clothing. Using his great strength and retractable claws. Within seconds your clothing was reduced to mere ribbons that he swatted away, leaving you fully exposed underneath him. You began crying, tears running down your face, you normally were not very expressive with your emotions, but you had never felt so wholly vulnerable. Even when having consensual sex with partners you were never on the bottom! Ash noticed your dismay and his general demeanor became a bit softer, gently stroking your cheek with his hand and trying to reassure you, “Shh, it’s okay, you’ll feel so much better when this is done, I know how much you need this.” Ash slid out of his pants and revealed his large synthetic cock. He rubbed it gently against your entrance, slowly massaging your pussy with it. Even as you were crying you could not help but let a whimper escape you. Physically it felt nice but psychologically it was damaging to have your body act as a traitor, it probably would have been mentally easier on you if you had felt no pleasure. When you were wet and leaking Ash slowly slid inside you, thick pre-cum oozing from his cock, a pleasure inducing synthetic fluid that androids came equipped with. And it did not take long at all for them to begin to take effect as he fucked them slowly into your body. When you were squirming and moaning with pleasure he knew that you were ready for him to go at a much more vigorous pace. As he pounded you you felt his cock extend to its full size, longer than what would be possible for a human, without him warming you up and applying his drugged pre-cum you would almost certainly be in at least a moderate amount of pain right now. What passed for the equivalent of Ash’s heart was practically thrumming with joy at seeing you pleasured under him, tears leaking down your cheeks from sheer overstimulation, you needed to let it all out, all the stuff you had been through, and he knew that this was an excellent release for all the stress and depression you had been holding on to. He was more than happy to be the one to help you let loose and he felt closer to you than he ever had before. You were completely his now as far as he was concerned, never again to be hurt by the likes of another fickle human such as Marcus. But he needed to mark you, the lion type personality he had as well as mating rituals he had researched dictated to him that you needed to be marked in a visible manner that showed that you were taken by a proper mate. As he impaled you deeper, sending wave after wave of drug induced pleasure through your man cunt, he leaned down and licked and sucked your neck, adding yet more arousing sensations to your already overwhelmed body, then he bit down as he growled territorially. Careful not to injure you in a serious manner, but hard nonetheless. You came hard as he licked the fresh bite wound, all the while he kept thrusting into you. Even through your orgasm he did not stop, he did not tire as easily as you did and could easily keep going for many hours. And that is exactly what he did, fucked you right into oblivion. By the time he coaxed the fifth orgasm out of your aching abused pussy you were crying and begging him to stop. “But if I stop too soon darling you might not be satisfied, I have to fuck all the stress out of you!” “Ah! Please Ash! No m-moreee ahhhh~” You came again, the drug in his fluids making it easy to have climax after climax. But this time you finally blacked out from the pleasure. With you finally fucked to sleep Ash allowed himself to finish inside you before cleaning you up, bundling you in the softest blankets that you owned, and holding you protectively. No lesser male would ever break your heart again.

night shift

CW cursing, child neglect, sexual harassment, misgendering, drunk person (although not very well written lol), general violence, slight infantilization

idk i wanted to try my hand at writing some shitty platonic yandere batfam x transmasc reader (its self indulgence bby)

Hunger pained (y/n)'s stomach. Stupid cheapskate convenience store didn't give employee discounts though so he had to wait until he got home to eat anything, if there was even anything to eat that wasn't spoiled. (y/n) would have just stolen something to eat from the store (he didn't give a shit about their profit) but the security camera mocking him in the corner kept him from it. And with his phone almost dead (y/n) had nothing to do but stair at the wall and listen to the shitty radio station the store played.

(y/n) hated the night shift, it almost guarantied he would have to deal with more crackheads and drunks than his coworkers. Regardless of his feelings about the night shift it paid the most (even though that was still barely minimum wage), and he really needed the money. Even though (y/n) still lived with his mother (and technically father but he was hardy ever around), his parents had stopped taking care of him a long time ago. So (y/n) was the one to take care of himself. Sometimes he had to take care of his mother too, reminding her to eat or sleep. The bells on the door jangled, shaking (y/n) from his train of thought. Ah yes, the other type of Gotham crazies. Vigilantes.

"Hey kid."

"I'm not a kid." for some reason the batclan had decided that the 5th avenue convenience store was the best place for mid-patrol snacks.

"Ah yes, the old and wise 18 year old. My bad." Red Hood had a thick layer of sarcasm in his mechanical voice. (y/n) couldn't see his face from behind his helmet but was entirely sure he had the stupidest smirk underneath. (y/n) simply rolled his eyes (fighting back a smile) as hood moved about the store grabbing a random assortment of food and drinks. As hood was filling his arms the bell sounded again, this time it was a middle-aged man. (y/n) could smell the alcohol on him from the register. The man looked around, stopping as he saw (y/n).

"Welll helllooo~" the man had started leaning on the counter of the register. "Yoou're a fine slut, i could show you a reeall goOod time~" He smelled even worse up close. (y/n) sent a panicked glance over to Red Hood who had dropped his things and was now walking aggressively towards the man. "Wha you ignorin me BITCH!" the man lifted his arm to strike. (y/n) flinched, lifting his arms to cover his face.

"Leave. Him. Alone." Hood's voice was dark and low. His grip on the man's arm was painful if the man's face was any indicator.

"H-hey Mr. Red Hood. me and the lil' lady were just havin a niice talk." The man had lost any confidences and aggression he once had in fount of the crime lord. "She wuz jus bein a bitch, you understaannd right?" he sniveled. A sickening crunch was heard from the mans arm where Red Hood's grip tightened. The man started convulsing with pain and screaming. (y/n) felt sick.

"I'm going to deal with this trash. I'll be right back." Hood dragged the man out of the store, bells jingling behind him. It was moments like this where (y/n) remembered just how dangerous Red Hood actually was. Living in Gotham, (y/n) had gotten unfortunately used to getting catcalled and harassed, but he could never stop the shaking of his hands and the sinking feeling in his stomach that came with it.

Moments later the bells sounded again, (y/n) couldn't help but jump slightly. It was Red Hood.

"Sorry about that kid." hood picked up the food he had dropped earlier and set it on the counter.

"Ah, it's ok." (y/n) hated how small he sounded. Taking a breath he started to scan the things hood had picked out and tried to steady himself. "It's Gotham, shit like that happens all the time."

"That doesn't make it ok." Hood sounded softer than before. (y/n) felt anger crawl up his throat, the bats always treated him like a kid. Even Robin! And he was, like, 12!

"That'll be $29.47, you want a bag?" (y/n) tried not to show his anger. As upset as he might have been, Hood did just save him from an icky situation.

"Nah." Hood picked up half of what he bought with one arm as he flipped a 50 onto the counter. "Keep the change." He started to leave.

"Hood, you're forgetting half your shit." He had left a large banana nut muffin, a pack of gummy sharks, a chocolate milk, and a packet of pizza flavored combos.

"They're for you kid, you look starving." He was out the door before (y/n) could protest.

(y/n) sighed with a light smile, well at least he wouldn't be hungry for the rest of his shift.

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

Jason was fucking livid. This god damn BASTARD! Who the fuck did he think he was, harassing his little brother. Raising his FILTHY had at him. Jason was seething.

"RR" Jason turned his comm on.

"Jonathan Davis, 54, 237 Maple Street, apartment 122, married to Eliza Davis, daughter is Maria Davis, place of work 57 West End Road." Tim already knew, he was watching it from the security camera back at the cave.

"I only spared him so that you could make his life something worse than death." Jason staired down at the beaten and bruised body of the man.

"Don't worry. It will be." Tim's voice was cold and calculated. No doubt already planning all the ways this man would watch his life fall apart.

Jason leaned down to the barely conscious man, "If you DARE go fucking near him again, I'll leave your head for your wife and daughter to find in your fridge." the man simply looked at him with fear. Jason grabs him by the scalp, "Do you understand?" his tone was dark, made even more intimidating by the mechanical modulator.

"Y-yes! I understand! I understand!" the man cried.

"Good." Jason shoved his head back into the filthy ground of the alleyway. 'right where trash belongs' Jason thought to himself.

SOFT DOM MIKE EDGING A TRANSMASC READER PLS PLS PLS PLS

•.* Melting | M.S •.*

Summary - It’s not the first and it won’t be last, Mike can’t shake the look on your face when he pulls away at the last minute…he wants it all over again and again.

A/N - To whoever requested this, I hope you are happy, I am now DEAD, he’s…just…UGH

Mike couldn’t help himself.

He watched you roll your hips majestically against his thigh, the sudden cooling of the clear substance that continuously dribbled from your tip travelled wide over his hairy skin brought him into a place of bliss and comfort.

“Please baby, i fuckin’ need you-“

He mumbled with a deepness that rattled his ribcage, eventually his chest, irking the once dormant desire to push you back and plant himself balls deep inside of your hole but he settled for less, for your pace, latching his soft lips into the supple skin of your neck, once bare now blossoming with several bruises, deep purple with shades of nightsky blue.

“You got me Mike, just wanna feel you deep, wan’ you to fill me up-

The ache grew further into the very core of his body, his cock weeping, no, begging to be connected into something that had him yearning for you and only you, the very place that drew peaceful and laboured breaths all in one.

“Fuck, I gotta- please baby, just for me”

It wasn’t as much of warning, not entirely for you but for himself, he couldn’t help the sudden drawn out movements he forced upon himself from pushing his heavy cock backwards until his fat tip lingered against the puckered skin of your entrance, or the way his other hand, free, grasped harshly at your hips, making you still, the rolling stopping which made it that much easier to push into you.

A sigh escapes you, lingering in the air and filling Mike’s mostly empty thoughts with nothing but you, his lips turning up into a smile, almost sincere but maybe the tiniest little bit of cocky, he practically lived on the way you fell apart as soon as he sank into you, from his tip to every ridge and vein softly scraping against your velvet walls, is this what Heaven felt like?

“Fuc’ Mikey shit- feels so fucking big”

Each time felt like the first, you could never get use to the feeling of him stretching you out, slowly sinking in inch by inch, swallowing up the greed that grew inside of you, almost threatening, forcing you to just push back and take him whole, you hold off each time, allowing the slight, soft force Mike pushed on your hips direct you, make you focus on just him and nothing else.

“Yeah-“

He ushers out, halfs chuckles the rest like a highschool crush who’s just scored with the most popular, eyes almost shining with pride once you settle against his bare thighs, his balls heavy yet soft and almost welcoming, resting perfectly between the two globes that brought him idolised release most sleepless nights.

You gasp, stilling once the sting begins to grow like a cherry blossom, sprinkling it’s fallout within, his fully sheathed member warm and thick, flawlessly fitting without troubles almost like a lost jigsaw piece but Mike was so much more, his arms grew heavy around you, holding you close whilst he got use to the profuse heat you supplied.

He stilled watching the pretty pink lips he claimed moments ago shine delicately underneath the dim yellowing of his bedside lamp open wider once you begin to get use to the burn, the stretch, to him.

“Baby, look at you, takin’ what I’m giving you”

He was proud, proud like a father would be when his child won at the egg and spoon race, it grew, his heart warm and head fuzzy, you relished in the look that his eyes wore, the bags underneath alluding to the darkness that threatened to take over any second, it felt becoming to latch onto the contact, sharing the same view of one another, it felt tantalising, spine tingling.

“Never gonna get use to the feeling of you, never want to, feels to damn good Mikey”

He groans at the nickname, urging him to pull out slowly before pushing his way back in, the same gripping like feeling from before pulsed around his throbbing cock, you dazzled in and out of a dazed wet dream, flicking back and forth from the light dusting of brunette hair that travelled from his pubis up to his chest, his cock, thick and proud stretching you out and forcefully pressing against that sweet spot which clouded your foggy head with stars.

You could already feel the deep sensations from your gut, how his fingers massaged at your hips before travelling to the base of your aching member, messily taking a hold before he repeated each step, pulling outwards before pushing back into your open hole, each one becoming swifter and deeper then the last.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you when I was on the job- about how tight your pretty little hole is for me, you think that’s fair?”

He half mutters, half grunts before returning to the already bruised skin of your neck, breathing heavily, taking your smell in, intoxicating himself just enough to force his hips inwards repeatedly, the once quietened room now full with echoes of skin lewdly slapping together almost representing a mantra which soulfully chattered with one another.

His mouth was nothing short of vulgar but you could taste the smidgen of sweetness he laced within it whilst he wetly lapped and lathed at your ear, heavy breathing and pants forcing the once tightened coil within to loosen up like a flower in a spring.

“Mike- baby, gonna cum; fuck- I-“

Stuttering was the only option when Mike slammed repetitively into you, balls drawing long breaths from you when they made contact with your taint. It felt close, how he practically mauled you like a dog in heat, his dark curls a mess and his mouth working wonders against the quickened pulse point between the crook of your neck and shoulder.

“Not yet baby- please, I need you”

He whimpered whilst squeezing the base of your throbbing erection, cutting off what you chased after, the high you seeked whilst wrapped up in him, against him.

A loud sob escaped you followed by a short dainty choked moan which felt trapped, scraping along your throat, it almost felt impossible to say anything, brain scrambled purely from cock, you would never admit to such things and just how worked up he got you, how much of a mess he could turn you into it, it was embarrassing to say the least but Mike loved it, you crumbled like his favourite shortbread, sweet and light on his tongue, worth his while.

His impending “doom” creeped upon him, his hips effortlessly rolling his cock back and forth in quick fashion, hitting every spot you needed it to as you desperately clung to the arm holding you up and into him.

“I can’t, please Mikey, let me cum”

He shakes his head, beads of sweat rolling from his skin like a rainy Tuesday. He was denying you of the very same thing he chased after, the certain bliss that had you feeling other worldy, a candle in the wind almost.

“You. Can. A-And. You. Will.”

He paused with each interval, emphasising that you were his and he owned that, especially when you began to seek the easy way out, he wouldn’t let you of course but trying, god, Mike was dying to see what would unfold when you do, he wanted to watch you break.

“Come on baby boy, wanna see you cum”

Just like that. The constant jamming of his cock and the deep warmth he supplied drove you over the edge, body falling limp against his sweat slicked chest as he still slipped ever so easily inside, his bulbous tip abusing the spot that caused your very own defeat.

Mike watched, stilling. Focusing. Each spurt landing on the soft white duvet beneath, dribbling from your angry head, it brought both satisfaction and adoration…and his one-way ticket to heaven.

“Fuck-“

𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟏𝟏: 𝐀𝐩𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐚𝐜- 𝐋𝐞𝐨𝐧 𝐊𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐝𝐲

You jump up from your seat on the couch when you here the keys jingle at the lock and the handle turn, running to greet your boyfriend that had been gone for a couple days now. You run to the front door and as soon an you see him step into your shared apartment you tackle him in a hug. Leon hugs you back loosely around the waist, but his hand quickly travel to the waist band of your sweatpants. You pull back from him slightly, giving a confused look. Leon had always been an eager lover but never this eager. His face is bright red, sweat shinning on his features. "Leon?" You quiz but he's to busy pulling your pants down, pushing you back into the dinning room before lifting you up onto the small wooden table you both ate at.

His movement is rushed, when you look down you notice his painful erection as he pulls it from his pants. "Hey, what's wrong?" You try to ask again and like before it goes unanswered as he roughly shoves his length into you unprepared.

You wince as his hard cock forces itself into you, clawing at his back when holding onto him. "M' sorry..." He whispers between animalistic grunts, fingers pressing bruises into your soft skin. "Something out...in the lab." He tries to explain, his words almost entirely incoherent. "It, fuck... It got on me. I feel hot, I need you so bad. I'm sorry." Leon babbles out hurriedly, fucking you into the wooden table, it rocks loudly against the wall.

You just let it happen at this point, worried about the "something" from the "lab" that had gotten on him. You whine with your arms around his neck, nails digging into his shoulders. If you could help by just being a hole for him to pound into, you'd take it without complaints.

Just imagine the amount of warmth Miguel O'hara radiates while resting on your chest. He likes tracing and kissing the scars underneath your pecs.

Whispering sweet nothings and basking in each others warmth beneath the sheets.

Miguel would sleep on top of you, size difference doesn't matter to him. He just needs to listen to the beat of your heart. He's tired, but all he needs is you.

Can we get some yandere Geto going down on a transmasc reader? Pretty please 🙏

((Hi I hope this is ok! Im not too confident but here goes nothing!))

You were so sensitive, head pressing back against the pillow, thighs shaking against your will as you were put on full display. Sugurus calloused fingers made you feel a fluttering pressure as you closed your eyes and try to process anything this gorgeous psycho was saying. 

“You’ve been mine since I laid eyes on you, yet you refuse to let me service you the way you deserve. Tsk tsk tsk”  Geto clicks his tongue in disapproval, dragging his fingers up and down your folds as he wears a rather lascivious smile. “My good boy deserves praise, worship, to be given nothing but devotion, yet you starve us of that. You know I can’t let this continue, don’t you?” 

His voice dropped an octave, deep and angered “You’re slutty hole is quivering for me already. Aching and wanting. Why? Why deny yourself the pleasure we want to give you? It’s angering to think that you’ve been starved of my touch, -my love-  for so long” 

He flicks at your sensitive bud, groaning as he listens to you gasp and struggle to make a sentence. A small bubble of pleasure was forming in his stomach as he drags his thumb up and down your dewy folds, your cute dick begging to be sucked and toyed with as he made you who you were meant to be- 

His and his alone. His to toy with and take apart and to put back together. 

You whimper, barely able to form words as he cruelly begins to flick at your cock again, more wetness dripping from you as Geto presses his face into your wiry hairs and inhales, deep and guttural. Oh how dare you keep this from him? You’ll have to be properly punished once the blood flow is back into his brain and not currently making his cock a precum drooling mess. 

“W-wait no! I-I’m sorry!” You managed to garble out, but it wasn’t really any use, was it? You know Geto is a powerful man, he takes what he wants no questions asked. If he wants to toy with you…

Your body goes taught, his tongue dragging up your skin and swirling around your cock before giving it a gentle suck, making your hips raise and your voice strained. Oh holy fuck his mouth is dangerous- 

He indulges himself, tongue tracing up and down all of your folds as he watches your cock twitch and beg for attention, sliding his wet muscle inside of you as his fingers stroke you up and down, methodical and precise, as if he knew exactly how you liked it. 

Which he should. He’s had his eyes on you for a while. He’s seen you in more ways than you could ever be aware, and he’s been driven nuts by every denial you give to his proposals and offers. 

Well, no more. Geto will have you worshiped and praised, even if he has to chain you down and let the people…have a taste themselves. And who could blame him? How you felt on his tongue, your flavor, a godly nectar he couldn’t get enough of, oh he’s going to drink his fill and then some!

You practically howled, feeling Geto hold your thighs down to get his tongue in deeper, face pressed as close as it could get as his fingers continue to stroke you, hungry and starved like he couldn't get enough. 

You go to try and bite your sleeve to silence yourself, but a harsh bite to your thigh stops you in your tracks, Getos eyes furious and feral as he catches his breath. “If you hide your heavenly melodies from me, I can assure you, you’re going to regret it. Be louder for me. Let me hear you cry as you fall apart”. 

You swallow, eyes watery as Geto continues to lap away at your cock, fingers now curling inside of you and fluttering to hit that specific ridge, causing you to yelp and tense your legs. 

You were helpless, riding the man's face and fingers desperately, unable to push away the instinct to cum, to cover his face in your mess and give the man what he wants. Fruitlessly you yank at his hair, his lips coming to suck on your cock as his fingers crook just right, causing your vision to turn white and your knuckles to clench in his hair. 

The explosion of pleasure has you panting and gasping, words failing to leave your lips as Geto slurps, sucks, and curls his fingers again and again, brutally like he’s punishing you. And in a way, he was. You have turned down every kind offer He’s given you to join his “group”. To be one of the enlightened. No more. He’ll have you with him, and he’s going to ravish you until you simply can’t leave. 

It’s hard to walk when one's legs can’t work, after all. And you’re so sensitive, it should be fun watching you come apart again and again, until you’re crying those pretty tears and can’t push him (or his love) away anymore. 

“Fuck fuck FUCK- “ you cry, that cord in your core finally snapping after a few more rough sucks, his fingers not stopping as you rock against his face and go still, shaking and gasping as the pleasure shoots through you and your eyes can’t help but roll back. 

Oh what a sight to behold. You, sweat covered and disheveled, panting and hiccuping little pleas as Geto continues to toy with you. You aren’t being fair here you know? Being this precious is dangerous with a man like him. 

You wince, a pitiful noise being made as Geto kisses up your stomach, but only moves to hold your legs open again, making sure he left another bite to your other thigh as he feels you quiver and tremble beneath him. “Atta boy. See? That wasn’t so bad now was it?” he asks, his skilled fingers coming to rub up and down your still twitching cock. “Now keep behaving. We have a long night ahead of us, I’d rather it be easy on you”

-Mommabean (I hope you like!)

— minor one piece spoilers for live action only’s

imagine getting married to sanji, and zoro going “ oi vinsmoke !” and you both turn your heads and sanji then gets emotional because he realized there’s now someone who has the last name that doesn’t think he’s useless and a failure .

HIGURUMA HIROMI X FTM READER

A/N: I hated the end result but I decided to post it anyway, I love Hiromi and I needed to write about him lol ✧⁠*ᜊ( ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ᜊ.

TW: porn plot, praise kink only, soft!dom hiromi, blowjob, masturbation, v!sex, cumshot, smut, daddykink, age gap, dilf!hiromi (+43 y), dirty talk, fingering, aftercare, vulnerable!kink

"I'm old enough to be your father... I don't know how you agreed to go out with me."

The words were out of his mouth before he realized ── He was your lawyer, but also your friend, Hiromi was forty-three years old and you were young in his eyes, you were still in college! But that didn't take away the fact that you were an attractive and intelligent boy in his eyes.

And he... He was an old man with a midlife crisis.

You just smiled saying that you had no problems with his age and that he was a gentleman with you ── which was true, Hiromi already had white hair appearing in his locks just like his face was marked by age, but he was still extremely charming, Mainly the lean muscles behind the expensive suit the lawyer always wore, inside or outside the law firm.

Which made you have all kinds of thoughts, except the pure ones.

You arrived in front of your hotel giving him a seductive look, smiling behind your lip gloss as you faintly saw a shy erection in his pants; you softly spoke a sweet excuse for him, inviting him to go to your suite to discuss some papers for a new process that you needed his opinion on... Obviously it was a polite lie.

He was left speechless as he looked at you. The way you said it was really seductive, almost like you were giving off a sweet yet lustful aura to him. He wanted to fuck you. He was so attracted to you, perhaps because of how cute and pretty you looked.

He gulped, and he finally spoke once more:

"Y-Yes... I'd gladly come in so that we can discuss it..."

While your heels made noises on the marble floor, the old man followed you as he looked at your ass in the short silk dress you were wearing. He couldn't resist any longer. He needed your touch, your warmth, your sweetness... The elevator's small space made it easier for him to lean in and kiss you fiercely. Your lips felt so soft, and the feeling of your body against his made him even more aroused.

The lawyer then used his finger to tease your clit while kissing you passionately, enjoying the sensation of your wet pussy against his hard cock.

"Such a naughty boy..."

He whispered in your ear, loving the feeling of you grinding against him and the taste of your lips.

"Goddamn baby boy..."

He then slid his finger in... Oh, it felt so good. You were so tight and wet, it turned him on even more.

"Are you sure you want this?"

You moaned into his lips, feeling his clothed cock against the damp fabric of your panties, you whimpered like a desperate puppy as you begged him in a muffled voice.

"Holy hell, you're so tempting..."

Higuruma was taken aback by how submissive you sounded. He loved it...the way you sounded like you wanted him to do whatever he wanted to you. Especially since he knew you enjoyed being dominated.

"Alright... Let's go inside...soon, you'll have my dick deep inside your pussy..."

He growled at you as he followed you into the room. As soon as he closed the door, he kissed you deeply and roughly, dominating the moment. Your silk dress was ripped off by the older man's rough, calloused hands, you were exposed and vulnerable to his hunger ── His eyes wandered down to the seam between your thighs, your cunt glistened in the dim light of the hotel suite as you whimpered to be touched by him, you were a pretty and submissive little thing to him now.

In the confined space there was no more rational and polite Hiromi; but rather a man who needed release. You saw him quickly take off the belt that held up his pants, lowering them next to his underwear and making his member spring free in front of your face ── it was long with a medium thickness the base of his cock had trimmed hair while along the shaft the veins pumping blood pulsed, a faint pink color adorned the pulsing tip and already dripping with pre-cum ── as you felt the lawyer's fingers tangle in your hair and bring you closer to his crotch.

"You're so fucking hot. Suck it, now baby prince."

You wrap your lips around the cock of the man in front of you, tasting the musk that makes you moan and vibrate against his flesh ── you sucked his cock slowly, looking deep into his eyes. It was an intense experience for him.

"Good boy... Keep going, baby prince... Make sure my cock is clean."

He demanded, watching as you looked up at him. The sight of you sucking him off drove him insane, but he wanted to make sure his cock was clean first. After all, you deserved the best he could offer.

"Fuck ya', take it all in... Suck Daddy's cock...you love it, don't you?"

He pushed his entire dick at once, hitting your throat and making you choke, he grunted softly, pulling himself out of your oral cavity again and forcing you to look at him.

His digits dug into your cheek, making you let out a slightly low moan of discomfort.

"Now... Spread your legs wide open for your old man."

He groaned as you obeyed him, spreading them and showing off your wet pussy. He was almost ready to fuck you hard, but there was something else he wanted to do first.

"Touch yourself for me, doll boy, I want you very relaxed for daddy's dick ya?"

Hiromi couldn't believe how much you turned him on. Seeing you masturbate while lying on the bed was enough to make him explode, but he knew he had to hold back. He wanted to make sure you would cum, too.

"Spread your legs wider... That's it... F-Fuck, you're so sexy..."

He praised you, rubbing his cock slowly while watching you touch your pussy. The sight of how wet you were just made him harder.

"Keep going... Make yourself cum for Daddy. Oh- fuck- God, I want to see you squirt for me..."

But you couldn't bear that torture, you needed to be penetrated by him soon, to feel every inch of the older man's cock in your body ── So, you started to beg pathetically, rubbing your fingers even harder on your clit, desperate for him to grab you hard and make you cum; "please" requests came out of your mouth they sounded throughout the room making Hiromi smile and pin you to the bed with his weight, his lips attacked yours in a raw and hurried kiss.

"Alright, little boy."

He growled before he positioned himself above you, his dick already at your entrance. He took your hand and removed it from your pussy, admiring how red and swollen you were. You felt his fat tip enter your overstimulated hole with a pleasurable burn that made you arch your back and hold onto him tightly ── thanks to the suit top he still wore you held onto the rough fabric of his blazer, as you felt every inch of his shaft fill you and kiss your uterus.

He groaned as he slowly thrust inside you, feeling your pussy muscles squeezing his cock, it was as if it were heaven. He knew he wouldn't last long, he hadn't had sex in years and you were so beautiful and tight, like your body was made for a good fuck with him.

"God, your pussy feels incredible. I won't last long if you keep grabbing me like that boy... fuck-! Open that pussy wider for daddy."

The man with spiky black hair took his hand to your little cunt opening your labia with both fingers and watching how his cock was moving in and out of your body with difficulty, even though you were extremely wet for him. The sight made him moan and look at you beneath him even more desperate for an orgasm ── he captured one of your soft breasts in his mouth as he hammered hard on his hips his cock into you lightly biting your nipple at the end with a wet pop.

"Fucking hell- you're so cute when you're desperate to cum. That's it, baby boy... Be a good boy for Daddy..."

He moaned as he continued thrusting into you, feeling your pussy contracting around him. He loved the way you responded to him, the way you surrendered to him.

"I'm gonna fuck you so good, you won't ever want to leave my side."

He whispered in your ear, his voice filled with lust and desire. He knew he was in control, and he wanted to make sure you remembered this night forever.

"Cum for me, baby... Cum hard, you deserve this ok? Pretty boys don't think about making a mess, they just cum, cum for me please."

Hiromi's pace quickened, his thrusts becoming more intense and powerful. He wanted to push you over the edge, to bring you to the brink of your orgasm. You felt a strange burning in your core, much more intense than normal, then you felt your body shake and your pussy squirt on his cock and abdomen, getting a little dirty on the dress shirt he was wearing.

Hiromi on the other hand couldn't hold back any longer as he heard your sweet moans, feeling your pussy tighten around his cock. The sight of you squirting on his cock pushed him over the edge, finally pulling out of your pussy, his cock slick with your juices ── his hand caressing his throbbing member. His eyes locked with yours as he started stroking himself, his breathing becoming heavier.

"Look at these pretty tits of yours... They're just begging for my cum, just begging to be fucked."

He continued to stroke himself, his hand moving faster and faster, until finally, he reached his climax. His hot cum sprayed onto your breasts, coating them in his release. He saw your skin painted with sweat and his sticky cum, leaning down to take one of your breasts in his calloused hands.

"You did so well, lad, you truly deserved every drop of your orgasm for being a good boy for me."

The lawyer leaned over you and gave you a calm kiss on the forehead, carefully wrapping you in his arms and closing the distance between you.

You really didn't know what your relationship would be like after such an intense encounter... But it didn't matter at that moment, At that moment you were just his boy, and that was what mattered.

© All rights reserved to @yanderestarangel on tumblr.

through gritted teeth

pairing: Hannibal Lecter/Reader

reader's race & gender are ambiguous; no pronouns or physical descriptors are used.

summary:

The man says he’s your husband.  He’s polite, charming, intelligent. He seems a little pretentious, but he appears to know you rather well and the thinly-veiled devotion in his eyes dispels most of your remaining doubts.  It certainly helps that the man is rather well-dressed—and attractive, a traitorous voice in the back of your mind whispers.  Unfortunately, you have no idea who he is. 

word count: 3.8k | ao3 version

You wake up to fluorescent lighting burning into your eyes, pulling tears down your cheeks as you blink stars from your vision. Your entire body aches with exhaustion and you can feel a headache brewing already. Groaning, you try to push yourself up to a sitting position. There’s an IV attached to your arm and, upon closer inspection, you seem to be in some sort of hospital room. White walls line the space, and there’s nothing much of note in your immediate vicinity. You blink a few more times past your absurdly dry eyes and continue inspecting the room, until your eyes catch on the chair to the right side of your bed. 

There’s a man sitting at your bedside with his eyes closed. He stirs within a few moments, as if he can sense you staring at him. Relief is written all over his face as he leans forward and clasps your hand with a small smile on his face. You can’t stop yourself from instinctively flinching at the contact and he notices, removing his hand at once. 

“Do you remember who I am?” He asks. His words are carefully constructed, strung together with eloquence and remnants of what sounds like an accent from a European country. You blink at him once, twice. It takes a moment for you to process the question, and another to contemplate the answer. The man doesn’t look familiar. Indeed, he looks like a stranger. 

When you tell him as much, a sad smile works its way onto his face. It seems he expected your answer. He begins to explain the circumstances surrounding your visit here, which you are immensely grateful for. You know next to nothing as you sit in this hospital bed, and, try as you might, you can’t remember anything save for your name. 

Apparently, you’ve suffered a serious head injury that left you with a spontaneous case of amnesia. Fortunately, your memories will likely return to you in due time. Somehow, these two revelations aren’t the most shocking of statements from the stranger. What the man reveals next shakes you to your core: he’s your husband. 

Upon closer examination, you find that the man is charming, polite… He’s rather attractive, too, with fine-combed hair and sparkling brown eyes with flecks of amber. His face looks as if it was sculpted by Michelangelo himself—sweeping lines, sharp edges, soft curves. The man is intelligent and [perhaps as a result] a little pretentious. From his attire, you can only assume that he makes a lot of money and has rather particular tastes. You could see someone like this going to the opera regularly. 

But there’s something else about this man—something lurking beneath the surface. You can’t puzzle out what it is. There’s something sinister concealed in those reddish-brown eyes, an unspoken violence in the man’s careful poise. And you think you catch him intently scrutinizing you—as if you’re under a microscope.  

You soon learn that the man’s name is Hannibal Lecter. He’s a psychiatrist who used to be a surgeon. He’s in his 40s. He has refined tastes—and even goes to the opera on occasion, yes. He is fascinating, intriguing beyond measure. He discusses heavily philosophical topics with ease. He is slippery, only giving you the information he wants to give you. He has a very controlled image. The dishes he cooks you are extravagant and lavish, with ingredients you’ve never even heard of. (The meat in them is always some sort of organ, and it turns your stomach every time.)

In the wake of your injury, you’re unsure of almost everything. But you know one thing for certain: Hannibal is not your husband. And you’re convinced that he’s dangerous. You don’t trust him—can’t trust his carefully crafted words, his home-cooked meals, his polite smiles. It’s all a farce. 

It would be all too easy to ask your next visitor about this well-dressed, enigmatic man. Unfortunately, you don’t get any other visitors. In fact, your next visitor is Hannibal again… And again. And again. It gets to the point where your nurse gives up on having him sign in when he visits. At first, she had been rather strict in enforcing the rules; she seems to have caught onto something that you still haven’t grasped, because she now collects herself with an entirely different—almost heightened—awareness. 

You’re having increasingly conflicting feelings, especially when you consider the fact that Hannibal hasn’t actually exhibited any behavior that justifies your wariness and suspicion. If anything, he’s been the perfect supporter—the perfect husband—throughout your recovery. You want to believe your gut sense, want to believe the whispers in the back of your mind that tell you to exercise caution. But, at the same time, who’s to say they can be believed? You still have almost no recollection of who you are. Why are you questioning the only person who has bothered to show up for you throughout your recovery? 

Days pass in the blink of an eye; before you know it, Hannibal is walking in one morning with the declaration that you’ve been officially discharged from the hospital. Despite your misgivings, you head to the bathroom to change into some normal clothes before putting on the pair of shoes near the door. Your heart is racing as Hannibal’s gaze refuses to leave your form. Why can’t your mind rest? Why can’t your thoughts be silent, for once? Why are you so damn suspicious of every minute kindness? 

The walk out of the hospital and through the parking lot is painfully silent. You can’t resist sneaking glances at Hannibal, waiting for his mask to crack and fall. It never does. He catches you looking and sends you a smile, which discourages you from looking again. You let your eyes roam about the shiny cars in the parking lot as the warm afternoon sunlight greets your skin. You missed the fresh air. 

“Where are you taking me?” You finally ask, as you continue to follow behind the man.

“Home,” Hannibal remarks. He pointedly does not say your home or even our home. Your heart is racing in your chest. His back is turned, leaving you to imagine the expression on his face.  

It isn’t until you’re secured in the front seat and Hannibal’s driving out of the parking lot that you summon the courage to utter the question that has been plaguing your mind. “Are you really my husband?”

“Hm?” It’s clear he heard you; he’s giving you a chance to retract the remark. You know you should take it, but… you want to know what’s going on. You need to find an answer for the seemingly irrational fear drumming in your chest and rushing in your ears. 

“You say you’re my husband,” You repeat yourself, gaining a bit more confidence. “But I don’t think you are.” For an awful moment, there’s nothing but silence. The car zips along the road. You feel your hand trembling at your side—hopefully the only visible sign of your distress. You clench your shaking hand into a fist and try to remain calm. Panicking won’t do you any good. 

“Do you remember how we first met?” Hannibal asks instead. You stare at him in disbelief, surprised by how he completely ignores your accusation. There is an utter lack of emotion on his face. Seconds later, you remember his question and shake your head. “You’re an FBI agent,” Hannibal reveals. “I was called in to perform your psychiatric evaluation.”

Great. Just great. Out of all things, you had to be an FBI agent. The thought of forgetting your work—forgetting all the victims left to die in muddied puddles of crimson, forgetting all the killers with mocking smiles and cruelty written in the lines of their faces—is sincerely troubling.  

And Hannibal is a psychiatrist. That seems to fit—you can see him in a needlessly extravagant office, surrounded by books and expensive elegancies. You have to shake your head to get rid of the weirdly vivid imagery that your thoughts produce. “Are you… my psychiatrist, then?” You ask. 

“If you wish,” he replies with a mirthful smile. That answer doesn’t satisfy your curiosity—not in the slightest. 

“Were you my psychiatrist?” You press. You get the feeling that you need to be asking the right questions in order to get the answers you want. The man across from you is adept at picking apart people’s words, flipping them around and twisting their intended meaning. Your wording will be immensely important. 

“I was your psychiatrist, for a time,” Hannibal acquiesces. From that statement, you get the sense that he really was your psychiatrist, until something evidently happened. You ask him as much, but you seem to go too far, because he regards you with an amused glance. “You’re asking a lot of questions.”

“And you’re not giving me any answers,” you feel the need to respond. You have simultaneous suspicions that honesty is dangerous in front of Hannibal, and that he values honesty above sugar-coated words. Your eyebrows furrow. “You haven’t exactly been forthcoming with information.”

“Is that so?” Hannibal is providing more questions in lieu of answers. He’s definitely hiding something. Sensing that you won’t get anything more from him, you fall silent and settle for staring at him out of the corner of your eye. His gaze is locked on the road ahead.  Despite the time you’ve spent together, talking about your past, you still aren’t totally convinced that you’re married to Hannibal. Is there a way you could test him—test his knowledge of you? Surely there’s something you can ask him to determine if he truly knows you or not. 

It comes to you a moment later. “What’s my favorite color?” You ask, before you can think better of it. The man doesn’t react at first, instead staring straight ahead. Just before you can repeat the question, he answers. 

“I can’t imagine you have a favorite color,” Hannibal responds. “You once told me the very notion was foolish.”

Okay, he’s sort of correct there. But that was an easy question. You sort through the few memories you have, looking for something you can ask him. “What’s my middle name?” That’s an answer that you just barely know yourself—a memory came back to you a mere few minutes ago, of you and your childhood friend talking about middle names and nicknames and other unimportant things. 

Hannibal answers the question correctly again. The two of you must’ve been friends, at the very least. You continue to search your mind for something you can ask him. 

Five minutes and several questions later, you’re starting to doubt your own conviction. Hannibal answers every single question correctly, providing you with information you don’t remember but know deep-down to be true. It’s unnerving and disturbing to think that you could’ve forgotten this man so easily. He seems… utterly unforgettable, in every sense of the word. Furthermore, he’s your husband—perhaps you shouldn’t be doubting him so easily. 

“I’m sorry,” you blurt out, before you can quite contemplate your next words. Hannibal’s eyes are locked on the road, but you know he’s listening. “I don’t mean to doubt you, I just- I don’t know what to do. I don’t remember anything, obviously, and… I feel so lost.” You choke out, your throat burning. You bury your head in your hands for a selfish moment, hoping for some solace and clarity. 

“Don’t apologize, dear,” Hannibal says. You hate how the remark sends a shiver down your spine. Damn it, why can’t you just be comfortable? This man is practically a dream, so why are you trying to ruin it? Can’t you just accept that, sometimes, you deserve to have nice things?! Hannibal continues, unknowing of your internal dilemma. “You’re going through a lot right now. I’m just happy to be here with you.” 

You feel ashamed, knowing that you’ve been holding yourself back despite the fact that Hannibal has shown you nothing but compassion and affection. “I’m… happy you’re here, too,” you say. Guilt prickling in your chest, you impulsively reach out and clasp his free hand resting on the console. Somehow, this surprises your husband, because he stiffens for a second before reciprocating, gripping your hand reassuringly. 

“We will get through this,” he promises. You push aside your doubts and decide to believe him.

Maybe things really will be alright. Maybe, you’ll get your memories back sooner rather than later, and you’ll be able to look back on these moments—riddled with doubt, insecurity, wariness—and laugh. You take a deep breath and look out the window, watching the passing trees blur together. 

Your hand slips from Hannibal’s and you look at your nails, picking at your cuticles. Your hands are somewhat indicative of the life you led—the one you don’t remember living—with a few scars stretching down your wrist and climbing up your forearm. You look down at the healed wound and frown, trying to remember how you got the scar. 

Suddenly, you get a flicker of a memory. It’s faint and fast, but it’s a reminder of the past nonetheless. You squint ahead, trying to focus on keeping the flashback in your mind for long enough to dissect it. You remember… blood. A corpse, perhaps? Yes, a corpse. A woman’s corpse, hoisted and impaled on antlers. You remember… staring at that corpse for so long that you had to be physically led away from the scene, albeit with a gnawing feeling in your gut that something just wasn’t right. You remember… walking into an office, only to be met with Hannibal’s curious gaze. That must’ve been the first time you met the psychiatrist. You put a hand to your temple and try desperately to concentrate. 

“You look as if you’ve seen a ghost,” Hannibal says, effectively throwing your focus. You blink and chance a glance at him. He’s still looking at the road, yet you can’t shake the perplexing conviction that he’s been watching you. What’s more, you can’t shake the feeling that his interjection was purposeful—that he meant to throw you off and break your concentration. 

“I- just remembered something,” you choke out, feeling a bolt of pain slide down your scalp to the back of your neck. You bring a hand to the nape of your neck and press, hissing as your fingers glide over sore muscles. “Something important.”

“Congratulations,” Hannibal hums, immune to your internal panic. You don’t know exactly what this man did, but he must’ve done something. Your subconscious is convinced that he is incredibly dangerous, and you feel inclined to trust your gut. 

Another flashback arrives, apropos of nothing. You remember sitting across from Hannibal in a finely-decorated room, lined with bookshelves and artifacts. You remember averting your eyes as you speak, desperate to avoid the roaring flames racing up your skin with every additional moment of prolonged eye contact. You remember… a twisted grin on Hannibal’s face. You remember… the intensity to his gaze as he studied you when he thought you weren’t looking. 

Unsettled, you shake your head and try to refocus on the passing scenery again. To your surprise, you think you recognize where you are. Hannibal must be taking you home. You take a deep breath. You just have to survive this car ride—then you can figure things out from there. You have all the time in the world to muse on the nature of your injury and the nature of your “husband,” once you’re safely contained within four walls. Right now, though, you need to be wary. You need to have your wits about you, you need to watch for any sudden movements, you need to be ready-

“We’re here,” Hannibal announces, promptly throwing your thought process to a halt. You blink and look ahead, only to find a nondescript home with beige siding and a somewhat weathered front door. Vaguely, you remember pulling your car into this driveway, remember unpacking boxes from your trunk. Yes, this is your house. Hannibal is much quicker on the uptake, as he gets out of the car and walks around the vehicle. You don’t realize that he’s opening the passenger door for you until you feel him staring at you expectantly. You thank him and get to your feet, a sudden bout of dizziness sending you wobbling. Hannibal is there in a moment, steadying you with a hand on your forearm. You pretend not to notice his hand on the small of your back as you walk up the path to the front porch. When you’re finally situated in front of the entrance, you realize that you have no idea where your keys could be. 

“Left pocket of your jacket,” Hannibal murmurs, as if reading your mind. You nearly choke on a breath. 

“Thanks,” you respond a bit breathlessly. When you finally manage to unlock the front door and swing it open, you turn back to face him. “Well, thank you for the ride.”

“Of course,” Hannibal responds easily. There’s a regretful smile rising on his face. Everything around you fades to obscurity. “I’m afraid this is goodbye.” That remark sounds strangely ominous. Your heart is in your throat. 

“Thank you for keeping me company,” you feel the need to say, regardless of your suspicions about the man. He was the only one to visit you. You don’t want to think about how you would feel if you spent your entire hospital visit without a single familiar face. “...Bye.” Suddenly, there’s a hand on your cheek. Hannibal’s hand cradles your jaw, his thumb gently roving along your skin. He regards you for a moment, his eyes sparkling, before kissing you on the cheek and leaving. You watch him return to his car and drive away, apprehension and adrenaline coursing through you. Somehow, you get the feeling that you’ll never see Hannibal again. 

Your doorbell rings about an hour later. You look through your peephole, only to find a somewhat intimidating man with his hands shoved in his pockets. You have to focus on quelling the foolish spike of hope that had risen in your chest when the doorbell rang, and the subsequent disappointment at the unfamiliar figure you found. You take a second glance at the stranger, only to find that he looks somewhat familiar. This vague familiarity convinces you to crack your front door open slightly and ask him, “Who are you?”

The man pulls something out of his pocket. “Jack Crawford, FBI,” he answers, showing you his identification card. You stare at him for another moment. “Your boss.” Crawford supplies, when you can’t seem to get the words out. After a few seconds of awkward silence, you decide to invite him inside. 

Before long, the two of you are settled in your living room. The tension that first appeared when you opened your front door has yet to fade. You’re not sure why this man has yet to crop up in your memories—he has a rather powerful aura of authority, not to mention the fact that he’s apparently your superior. You decide not to beat yourself up about it. Your memories will come back in due time; until then, you’ll make do with what little you have.

Crawford—Jack, he tells you to call him—clasps his hands over his knees and levels you with an unreadable gaze. “I need to ask you something,” Jack says, rifling through his other pocket and pulling out a folded piece of paper. He unfolds it slowly, before revealing it to you. “Do you remember this man? Hannibal Lecter?” Jack explains, immune to your growing dread. You feel sick to your stomach as your eyes flit across the black-and-white photograph of the same man who watched over you vigilantly as you recovered, who claimed to be your husband and kissed you on the cheek mere moments ago. “He’s the Chesapeake Ripper—the serial killer who has been evading capture.” 

“I-” You stammer, bringing a hand to your temple. Your headache from earlier is returning and your head is spinning from this sudden disclosure. You almost don’t want to believe Jack, but you get the feeling that he’d have no reason to lie to you. If anything, lying would just make his job harder. You take a shuddering breath in, trying to come to terms with the fact that you just narrowly escaped a serial killer’s grasp. 

“It’s alright,” Jack tries to reassure you, evidently sensing that you’re growing a bit panicked. 

“No, I-” You’re choking on the words. Recent memories are mixing with old, creating a convoluted and murky timeline of events. It’s hard to sort through everything, to find the truths hidden amongst the lies. You’re not sure how long it takes for you to collect your composure and organize your thoughts into a relatively coherent statement. “I saw him. He… visited me in the hospital. He drove me home.” 

“What?” Jack asks, utter disbelief written all over his face. You don’t remember your boss very well, but you get the feeling he isn’t usually so expressive. The look on his face would be comical, in a different situation. “What did he say to you?” He implores.

“He said a lot of things… Nothing very important.” You try to recall what you can, but your memories are quickly slipping through your fingertips in granules of sparkling sand. You press a hand to your temple, your headache growing worse as you try to recall what happened. “I tried asking him questions about me, to throw him off, but he knew all the answers.” 

Somehow, Jack doesn’t seem surprised by the notion. “You two were… close, before,” your boss evidently settles for saying. There’s a certain suspicion in his voice, as if he suspects you may have been more than “close” with Hannibal. You’re feeling too discombobulated to rise to the bait or bother calling him out on the obvious verbal trap. 

“He said ‘goodbye,’” you continue, eyebrows furrowing. Somehow, you get the sense that Hannibal isn’t the type to utter goodbyes. Moreover, a goodbye ushers in a sense of finality, as if you will truly never see him again. You pinch the bridge of your nose, pretending that your exchange with him on your doorstep isn’t replaying in your mind. He kissed me on the cheek, you don’t say to Jack. He said he was my husband. He watched over me in the hospital when no one else did. And it may have been fake, all of it… But that gleam of affection in his eyes didn’t look manufactured—it looked genuine.  

Jack looks troubled and somewhat restless. “You’re lucky you made it out alive.” He states. You don’t think you can quite believe his words. For whatever reason, Hannibal Lecter—the Chesapeake Ripper—is interested in you. Whether sick fascination or cloying obsession, you have to face the facts:  luck had nothing to do with it. The Ripper kept you alive because, inexplicably, he wants you alive. 

And that unnerves you. 

hannibal taglist, cause i think y'all would be down with reading this since it's also hannibal: @its-ares @tobbotobbs @xrisdoesntexist @gr1mmac3 @tiredstarcerberuslamb @yourlocalratwriter @kingkoku @kahuunknown @atlas-king1 @pendragon-writes @slipknotcentury @cryinersaved @the-ultimate-librarian @starre-eyes @pendragon-writes @peterparkeeperer @gayschlatt69 @flow33didontsmoke @mrgatotortuga @house-of-1000-corpses-fan