#on one hand i feel guilty that I HAVE the luxury of giving into it

[guess-my-next-obsession]

Guilty as Sin? - Chapter Two

pairing: professor!javier peña x f!reader

rating: series is 18+ only, minors DNI, lots of yearning, derrick disappoints us, javier flirts...kinda, law school stuff that i'm researching as i go so bare with me actual lawyers and law students, mentions of a crime/DV (used as an example), reader wears skirts (for the sake of future smut)

word count: 3.8k

series masterlist

After a long night of imagining Dr. Peña’s stern eyes peering into yours from between your thighs, it was time to face him yet again. With his Criminal Law class Monday through Wednesday, and his Intro to Forensics lab Wednesday through Friday, it seemed you’d have to learn to get used to his dizzying effect on you or else you’d never get a full night of sleep. It didn’t help that both Nina and Alondra had guests over last night, their explicit noises forcing you into sleeping with headphones on. 

Ears aching and eyes tired, you carried on with your day as usual. New lectures in Advanced Forensics and Criminal Profiling in the morning, and Dr. Peña’s class in the afternoon. Derrick followed you around in between classes, eager to prove himself to you by buying your latte and carrying your bag—even when you insisted you were fully capable of doing both on your own. 

You weren’t sure what had gotten into him over the summer while he was away with his family in the Hamptons—a luxury you could only imagine as you spent your summer working as an underpaid secretary for a law firm. Perhaps it had to do with his older brother’s engagement and recent promotion to an attending physician that compelled him to be so pushy when it came to you. Unfortunately for him, you had no interest in getting married this young, not when you still had so much to prove. 

“Hopefully there’s a seat in the back today,” he said, opening the door to the lecture hall for you. While he may have a good reason for not wanting to be the center of Dr. Peña’s attention again, there was a decent sized part of you that adored his attention—even if it meant a scolding. Maybe especially if it meant that. 

“Yeah,” you lied, swallowing down your nerves as you stepped into a much more crowded room than yesterday. You scanned the room, now full of hopeful women and men who must have heard about Dr. Peña’s looks and transferred out of their old classes to get a glimpse of the man. Only five seats remained, four of them scattered around the auditorium and one in the front row. 

“Shit,” Derrick swore, scanning the room. “Guess we have to split up.”

You fought away the smirk threatening to spread across your face and frowned. “Sucks. Well, I’m gonna be in the front.”

“So he can pick on you?” Derrick asked, raising a brow. “There’s a seat near the back, take that one.”

“I’m fine,” you assured, giving him a glare to admonish whatever control he thought he had over what you chose to do. He scoffed, watching you as you made your way down the steps of the hall to the front row where you found a seat beside a girl you were friendly with during undergrad, Mayte. “Is this seat open?”

“Yeah,” she chirped with a smile, moving her bag from the seat to let you sit down. “Crazy how full this class is. I don’t feel like it was this packed yesterday.”

“It wasn’t,” you chuckled, unpacking your notebook and pen. 

Striding in in a red button down and almost skin tight black slacks that you couldn’t help but notice bulged out at the zipper, the reason for all the new transfers became clear. The hush that fell over the room was telling, a silence that filled you with so much jealousy you thought you might be sick. 

“Afternoon,” he greeted, setting his back down in his chair. After pulling out a stack of papers, he gave the room a quick once over, his shock written in the lift of his brows. “Full house today.”

The room filled with flirty laughter, your eyes rolling in response. Heading over to Mayte who sat at the start of the row, Dr. Peña handed her the stack of papers, his eyes flickering towards yours as he spoke, “Take one, pass it down.”

You looked away, the window now seeming far more interesting than it had a second ago. 

“Today’s lecture will be on the fundamental elements of crime,” he said, reaching his podium. Hearing your name called, you shrank a bit in your seat. Still, that thrill of earning his attention raced through your veins, daring you to meet his eyes. “Can you tell the class what these elements are?” 

You nodded, flipping to the page in your notebook you’d filled out the night before while studying. “The fundamental elements of a crime are actus reus, mens rea, and causation.” 

The corner of his mouth tilted upwards as he gave you a nod, his eyes hesitantly shifting from yours to the row behind you. “Mr. Velasquez, define actus reus for me.”

“Actus reus refers to the act of committing a crime, either knowingly or unknowingly,” he said. 

“Very good,” Dr. Peña commended. “Simply put, actus reus—which is Latin for guilty act—refers to the ‘what’ in a crime. These criminal actions must be considered voluntary and done during a lucid state to constitute a crime. For example, a sober man comes home from a hard day at work and assaults his wife. This act was done both in a conscious state and by his own volition. Now, if the wife were to be in a state of survival and had no other choice than to respond to the assault with an extreme measure, this is an entirely different story and does not meet the qualifications for actus reus.” 

“Murder is murder, isn’t it?” Derrick asked from somewhere in the middle row, causing you to roll your eyes. Did he really not understand the difference between murder and self defense this far into the law program?

“Murder is murder, and survival is survival, Mr. Crawley,” Dr. Peña explained, crossing his arms over his shoulders. “Do you disagree with this logic?”

“Sort of, yeah,” he said, matching Dr. Peña’s arrogance without possessing any of the charm. “There are ways to defend yourself without killing someone?”

“Do you think these victims have the time to strategize when they have a gun pressed to their temple? If there’s a blade to their throat?” he challenged. “They do what they have to do to survive. It’s not our place as lawyers to judge them, it’s our job to uphold the law.”

“Laws that are written with double standards,” Derrick scoffed, earning a shush that sounded an awful lot like Nina. 

“Perhaps if you make it to the end of the program you can change things,” Dr. Peña smirked, glancing at you before turning back to your friend who was looking an awful lot like a stranger these days. “But I’m not so certain that’ll be the case for you, Mr. Crawley.”

After the scene that was class, you met up with Alondra at the library, both of you determined to avoid the noise that came along with Derrick having his male friends over at the apartment. Beyond the obnoxious volume they all spoke at, you hated the way they watched you, whispering amongst themselves about how jealous they were that Derrick got to live with three beautiful girls—nevermind the fact that none of you wanted anything to do with him in that sense. 

“What are you doing your paper on for Arman’s class?” Alondra asked as she typed on her laptop. 

“Not sure yet,” you said, taking a bite out of the banana you’d hoped would fuel you until dinner. “Maybe capital punishment.”

“That’s good,” she commended. “I was thinking of analyzing the process of trying someone with psychological disorders.”

“Still interested in criminal psych?” 

“Yeah,” she smiled. “Sometimes I wonder if I should’ve done the psychology route instead, but there was no way I was going to convince my parents to fund that.”

“Why not?” you frowned. 

“They don’t think mental illness is a real thing, which is funny considering they both exhibit traits of bipolar disorder and narcissism,” she laughed, hiding her trauma behind a thin veil of humor like she always did. Not that you minded it. The whole expressing your feelings thing never really came that easily to you. “Oh, shit. I forgot to tell you something.”

“Oh, no,” you winced. 

“So rumor has it that you and Derrick have a little date on Friday?” 

“Yeah,” you sighed, shaking your head. “I just want to get it over and done with so he’ll drop the whole thing. I mean, four years into being friends and I never felt a thing for him. Does he really think that changed overnight?”

“Knowing him, probably,” she chuckled. “Anyways, I heard from a very credible source—“

“Sabina,” you guessed. 

“Maybe,” she blushed. “Anyways, she told me that on the first night back, Derrick hooked up with an undergrad and caught a case of the clap.”

“Shut up,” you gasped. “Chlamydia? At his grown age?”

“I know,” she laughed. “So, just be careful if you decide to—“

“Believe me, I had no intentions of fucking him before and I sure as hell have none now,” you assured, cringing at the thought. 

“Interesting conversation for a library, isn’t it?” Dr. Peña’s warm timbre sent a chill up your spine as he stood behind your chair, Alondra’s eyes wide and cheeks flushed. 

“We were just…gossiping,” she offered, shrugging the embarrassment off. “Women, am I right?” 

“Two very bright women who’d be far better off studying,” he challenged. 

You refused to turn around, his leather and vetiver scent combined with his proximity already too much for your system of self restraint to handle. Instead, you flipped the page of your textbook in strained silence. 

“I actually was hoping to speak to you about tomorrow’s lab,” he continued, now speaking directly to you. 

“8 p.m., got it,” you said, your tone clipped with frustration at your dirty mind. 

“It was actually in reference to your…clothing,” he returned, causing Alondra to raise a brow as she pretended to resume her typing. Turning in your seat, you peered up at him with furrowed brows. 

“What about my clothing?” you inquired. 

“You seem to wear a lot of dresses and skirts,” he noted, though he looked as if it was torture to even have this conversation. “I just wanted to remind you that appropriate PPE is required for all labs, which means—“

“Pants. Understood,” you said, turning back to your book. 

“Good,” he managed, almost sounding as if he’d lost his voice with how strained his tone was. “I’ll leave the two of you to your gossiping and studying, then.”

Alondra watched as he walked past your table, his hands tucked into his pocket as if he owned the place. 

“Hot,” she whispered, biting her lip. “I’m pretty gay, but that tension…” 

“There’s no tension, he’s just a dick,” you snapped, feeling your cheeks heat as you replayed the interaction over and over in your head. 

He really paid that much attention to you? So much so that he felt compelled to remind you of lab etiquette you learned back in high school? 

The delusional part of your mind swooned while the logical part recoiled. 

“Please show up in a mini skirt,” she begged, her hands clasped together in front of her chest. Snorting at herself, she proceeded to mimic his deep voice, “I thought I told you no mini skirts.” 

“I’m begging you to shut the fuck up,” you sighed, rubbing your temples. 

“Yes, I’ve been such a naughty girl, Professor.”

“Would you look at that. Seems like it’s time for me to get the fuck out of here,” you said, closing your book and shoving it into your bag. 

“Don’t be like that, I’m just trying to paint an image,” she teased, laughing as you hustled to get your things packed. 

“Sorry, I’ve got a date with my bed,” you snarked, slinging your bag over your shoulder. 

“How convenient,” she smirked, tapping her pen against her chin. “I give you a brand new fantasy and now you’re off to bed.”

“Someone’s moans kept me up all night so I’m exhausted,” you retorted, laughing at the way she kept staring you with that knowing look of hers. “Fuck off.”

“Love you more,” she called as you turned and walked away. 

After another night of restless sleep and inappropriate fantasies of Dr. Peña’s hands sliding up your skirt, it was time for yet another day of this back and forth. You’d expected Derrick to keep his distance after his humiliating interaction during CrimLaw, perhaps brood about like he usually did when things didn’t go his way, but it was business as usual today. He followed you around like a lost dog, talking your ear off about his upcoming project for his mock trial in his Criminal Procedures class as you wandered off in your mind to a reality where he hadn’t changed into this hyper masculine man you didn’t recognize. 

“I’m excited,” he beamed, rubbing his hands together. “First time to prove myself in a courtroom.”

“An artificial court room,” you clarified, earning a scowl. “Hey, I have to get to Peña’s lab.”

“We’re, uh, still good for Friday, right?” he asked, catching your elbow as you moved to walk away. 

“If you want,” you shrugged, looking down at where he still gripped your arm. “I should get going.”

He nodded, letting your arm go. “I’ll see you at home.” 

After managing to ditch Derrick, you assumed your walk to Dr. Peña’s lecture hall would give you a moment of respite, but of course fate had different plans. 

You didn’t even recognize him until he was already approaching with a cocky grin and his arms held out wide. Micah, the man who’d ruined your entire undergrad experience with all of his back and forth bullshit. You fought the urge to scrunch your nose in disgust over his new mullet and pitiful mustache he likely spent all summer growing. 

“Hey,” he chimed your name, creating an absurd desire inside you to change it just so you’d never have to hear it on his lips again. You feigned confusion, as if you could ever forget those green eyes that still haunted every dream. “Shit, you don’t recognize me.” He laughed. “It’s Micah.”

“Oh. Hey.” Your greeting was as strained as your smile. 

“You’re looking good,” he praised, admiring you from top to bottom. You cringed at his appraisal, at his ignorance over the entire situation. “How’s, uh, how’s law school?”

“Fine,” you replied, clipped and cold. 

“Why’re you acting like that?” he asked, a smile tugging at his lips. Oh, the amount of money you’d pay for the chance to slap that arrogant smirk right off his face. “You still holding onto all that old shit?”

“Four years of emotional abuse will do that,” you replied. “Anyways, I have to be somewhere.”

“C’mon, all your friends forgave me for that shit. Why can’t you?” 

Maybe today would be the day you finally lost your shit on him and ended up in jail. Though, that would mean missing Dr. Peña’s lab and you certainly couldn’t miss out on the chance to ogle him. 

“They forgave you because they weren’t the ones you fucked over,” you explained, choosing to be mature even when it ached. “So I get to decide when I want to forgive you. Not the other way around. And just as a good rule of thumb, I don’t plan on forgiving you anytime soon.”

“So what, we just avoid each other?” he frowned, daring to act as though he was hurt. 

“That’s the goal,” you said, shrugging your shoulders. “Besides, won’t be long now until you flunk out since I’m not around to write your essays anymore.”

“Fucking bitch,” he hissed, signaling your cue to walk the fuck away before you did something that would end up with you in a jail cell. “And you wonder why I cheated!”

Shaking your head to clear out all the memories of nights spent sobbing on the floor or in Nina’s bed because yours reminded you of him too much, you marched off towards the lecture hall with five minutes to spare. Thankfully unlike your Criminal Law lecture, you didn’t have to worry about finding a seat given the fact that you’d be sitting at the front of class in a desk designated to the TA. 

You passed rows of undergrads whispering and laughing amongst themselves, all of them blissfully unaware of the storm heading their way. As you reached the front of the class, Dr. Peña walked in with the same frown of disapproval he wore on the first day of your lecture. 

“Evening,” he greeted, silencing the room with one simple word. He shot you a glance, doing a double take as he noticed you were still unpacking your bag and getting settled. 

“You’re late,” he scolded in a whisper as he walked over to your desk, the cinnamon on his breath invading your senses. 

“I’m five minutes early,” you challenged as you opened your notebook and jotted down the date, well aware of the sea of freshman and sophomore eyes trained on the two of you. 

“I need you here at seven-thirty,” he ordered. “I had to prep by myself.”

“I apologize,” you sighed, half due to your run in with Micah and half due to the ever present exhaustion of trying to keep your fantasies of your demanding professor at bay. “I’ll be on time tomorrow.”

“That would be appreciated,” he snarked, shaking his head as he wandered back to the center podium with a clearing of his throat. “Welcome to Intro to Forensics. I’m Dr. Peña, you’ll refer to me as such this semester—not dude, not bro, and certainly no nicknames. I’m not your friend, I’m here to teach you. Understood?”

God, he was a dick. A beautiful, wound up dick that you couldn’t stop thinking about. 

“This is your TA for the semester,” he introduced you by name, and something about the way it sounded on his lips caused your breath to hitch. “She’ll be here to help during labs as well as tutoring on her own time. If you have questions about the material or assignments, I suggest you speak with her first. You’ll find her tutoring hours on the syllabus.”

You frowned a bit as you thought about the whole tutoring part of being a professor’s assistant. Spending your weeknights at the library helping out undergrads sounded like pure torture at this point in your life, but at least the extra cash would go a long way towards covering your bills. 

“Today we’ll be covering DNA fingerprinting,” he said, pulling up a slideshow presentation. “Can anyone tell me how exactly this process works?”

A pretty freshman shot her hand up before he’d even finished speaking, curdling your stomach with jealousy you knew you had no right to feel. “Yes, Miss…?”

“You can just call me Jess,” she smiled, tucking a piece of her caramel brown hair behind her ears. 

“No. What’s your last name?” he sighed.  

“Jacobs,” she sputtered, her cheeks turning a shade of red. “DNA fingerprinting uses nucleotide sequences in DNA to determine who the fingerprints belong to.”

“Very good,” he nodded. “And what are nucleotides?”

“I…um, I don’t know,” she admitted, that sparkling smile now long gone as she stared down at her book. 

“Figured,” he chided, skipping to the next slide. “Your knowledge doesn’t mean a thing if you can’t explain it.”

Watching him talk down to a student shouldn’t have stirred you the way that it did. In fact, if he’d been any other man talking to a woman that way, you’d have detested him. But there was something about Dr. Peña that poisoned your mind in his favor, a very annoying thing you now had to add to your list of shit to sort out upstairs. 

After a relatively silent lab where the students had to match DNA samples to their rightful owner, it was nearing ten o’clock, the pitch black sky outside beckoning you to hurry the fuck up and get to bed. Of course, nature was forgetting your very demanding professor who seemed dead set on wearing you out in all the wrong ways. 

“You take half, I’ll take half,” he suggested, splitting the stack of worksheets in two and handing you your share as you sat in his private office that was adjoined to the lecture hall. “Should be finished quickly enough.”

“Is there any way I can just do these at home?” you asked, your eyelids growing heavier with each blink. 

He studied you for a beat, those brown eyes traversing every single feature, every inch from head to toe as if he was searching for something. “If you’d prefer.”

“I’m just really tired,” you admitted, suddenly feeling small under his gaze. “Don’t want to accidentally fall asleep in your office.”

“That would be inconvenient,” he chuckled, and god, what a sound. “Grade them wherever you’d like, just make sure you drop them off tomorrow morning.”

Nodding, you grabbed your bag and carefully tucked the papers inside. 

“Tomorrow morning,” you echoed.

“I look forward to it,” he smiled, a fleeting thing that disappeared the moment you turned to look at him. “Have a good night.” 

You took in a slow inhale and offered him a more lasting smile. “You too, Professor.”

“And don’t worry about the PPE tomorrow,” he added, stopping you as you moved to leave the room. Raising your brow at him, he looked entirely unphased, his eyes once again combing you over before he seemed to realize himself. “No lab, just a lecture.”

“Right,” you said, biting your lip. “I’ll be sure to wear my shortest skirt.” 

Did you really just say that? Out loud? 

Dr. Peña cracked a smile and shook his head, turning back to his desktop. “I wouldn’t want you to cause a scene.”

“I’m not sure the sight of me in a skirt is scene worthy.”

He tilted his head to the side in consideration, his eyes still locked on his screen. 

“I’d beg to differ,” he said, wearing that taunting fucking smirk as he typed. “Anyways, be safe getting home.”

“Yeah,” you chuckled—at him, at yourself, at everything. “Night, Dr. Peña.”

“Good night,” he smiled. 

And just like that, you discovered a way to taunt him the way he taunted you by just existing. 

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fanfiction #javier peña fic #javier peña x reader #javi peña #javier peña smut #javier pena smut #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena narcos #javier pena fic #javier peña #javier pena x reader #javier peña fluff #javier pena x you #javier pena fluff #guilty as sin?

[torchickentacos]

ok i slept for uhhh seventeen hours on and off since last night bc chronic illness <3 BUT that means I'll be up until like five am tonight. sad. BUT!!! that gives me time to read fics that i've meant to for months, and reading fic in general is something i don't do often so i'm kind of excited for my accidental all nighter era.

#ok. adding this in post. accidental chronic illness vent in tags #I FINALLY DON'T HAVE SCHOOLWORK TO BE DOING INSTEAD #deadass i finished my exam and project on sunday #and have been in crash mode ever since #i need to just give into it #on one hand i feel guilty that I HAVE the luxury of giving into it #because tons of people don't #but also i know that i have the luxury BECAUSE i planned my schedule/life around my illnesses #i KNOW this happens. especially in the fall (see: october slide) so I take lighter courseloads #and it's so hard. I feel like I struggle with things most people can do in their sleep. #I don't have enough blood in my brain to think half the time /literally and medically. not joking here #I'm chronically pretty fucking hypoxic and have blood pooling #so i know I need to be more understanding of myself here #but realizing your limits are different from other people is just so difficult to reckon with #especially in your early twenties (21.5) when I see other people making huge progress towards independence #i WILL still move out within the next couple years if i can help it. but I also know it will be uniquely challenging for me. #sigh. #I desperately want independence but it doesn't really want me lol #too bad for independence though. I've made it work this far and I'll keep pushing as far as I can with it. #my main concern is driving though. driving and brain fog reaction times/occasional syncope are. not great things to mix! #will cross that bridge when i get there

[staryuee]

HOW THEY REACT TO YOUR SILENT TREATMENT.

꒰warnings꒱ not proofread … sigh

⠀꒲ ` synopsis . . . you and your partner are having a “cooling down period”, a time of détente, after a recent argument. how do they deal with the lack of love from you?

⠀꒲ ` characters . . . diluc, eula, wanderer, ayato, gorou, tartaglia, lyney, wriothesley, neuvillette, arlecchino

⠀꒲ ` notes . . . as a psychology student ☝️🤓 i can safely say that the silent treatment is usually frowned upon due to its connotations with emotional abuse, therefore i tried my best to make it apparent that this sort of silence is within the boundaries of the relationship ( ･᷄ὢ･᷅ ) please communicate with your loved ones if you feel a certain way :)

you and your beloved recently had a pretty bad argument. out of respect for both of your feelings you both decided to have a period of détente to allow a gradual recovery of your emotions and logical reasonings.

there was no need to argue, and there was also no need to be hostile or petty; therefore your silent treatment wasn’t a way to maliciously gain control or make your lover come running back to you, it was a way for both of you to regain composure and come back to the topic when prepared.

that did unfortunately, lead to much less affectionate gestures from both of you. of course there was still the casual “i love you” every morning and night accompanied by a simple kiss, but it never went anything beyond that.

while your lover fully knew why this sort of peaceful coexistence was necessary, sometimes it’s sincerely difficult to not just reach out and kiss you breathless.

you’re so close yet so far, it’s unbearable.

R. DILUC — 迪卢克

master diluc has been rather restless lately.

constant muttering to himself, plucking the dried up skin that stuck out from his badly bitten lips, his gloved hands constantly scratching a non existent scratch; honestly, if the fellow residents of dawn winery didn’t know any better they’d think he was possessed and required an immediate exorcist.

adelinde refuses to see her precious baby sink his eyes into ruin purely because he’s out secretly patrolling once he wakes up in the middle of the night to clear his head. you’re always there with him throughout the night: but why does it still feel so empty regardless?

WHO APOLOGISES FIRST ?

diluc is no pushover or people pleaser; if you were guilty, then you’re guilty and he’ll wait all the time in the world till you eventually own up and apologise (please let that come sooner or later though otherwise he’ll give into ruin and sip alcohol for a breather). otherwise, if its his fault, or no ones and it was a mere misunderstanding, the silent treatment lasts for a day. not any longer not any less; he doesn’t allow it to.

he’s more than happy to wait forever for you but gods if he ever made a mistake that accidentally led you to elongating this supposed transient silence till the end of time, diluc would much rather swallow his pride and give his all to you. you’re worth more than pettiness, and he’ll prove that to you once you wake up and get greeted with all your favourite luxuries and a bright, relieved smile on his face.

EULA — 优菈

you’re beyond delusion if you think this woman won’t turn this into a healthy-ish competition of sorts.

you wish to avoid her for days on end? she’s already used to the world avoiding her mere gaze, she can withstand the somber feeling of having the one person who’s fully understood her as the complex person she is self-isolating from her for a little while.

never mind, no, she literally can’t. come back to her right now. we have problem right? lets talk about it, isn’t that what you taught her in the first place? what do you mean you need a break and want to clear your head for a while to not hurt her feelings? you think eula of all people cares about something like that?

she’d rather you spit at her than withstand another hour of this mindless nonsense.

WHO APOLOGISES FIRST?

she doesn’t apologise unless she sees whatever caused this perilous argument in the first place truly hurt you and you ended up in tears; otherwise whats the use in pointless words when you can easily hug it out and call it a day?

she lets you apologise under the guise of “if you don’t, my vengeance towards you will be greater than my foes”, but in reality? eula is hardly paying any attention to the words slipping past your lips. all she’s thinking about is how she’ll be able to shake off this uneasy tension that’s somehow been created between you two.

WANDERER — 流浪者

you can’t tell which one of you needed this little breather more, after all, you’d hope scara would allow himself to soften after distancing from you after a while, and scara hoped you’d see reason within your argument and eventually, as always, forgive him.

but forgiveness is a two way straight in the way most people subconsciously ignore; does he and could he ever forgive himself? that image of your teary eyed face, the harsh puffs of breath you heaved to prevent any more molten venom to burn his plastic skin, the slight clenching of your jaw, fuck it hurt.

he couldn’t admit it at the time, but right now after being forcefully peeled away from you for about week and forcing auntie nahida to listen to his venting rambles? he wished he just gave it all up and did something: anything at all. kissed you, hugged you, consoled you, swiped your tears away with his thumbs, fluttered his eyelashes on your cheek gently as he whispered an i love you.

yet all he could do right now was wait.

wait until you hopefully came back, he couldn’t face you. if you abandoned him he’d deal with it. the petals on the floor and the hushed whispers of “they love me, they love me not” are just hallucinations from his worried caregiver, he swears.

WHO APOLOGISES FIRST?

never would he stoop so low as to apologise.

verbally. that is. if he’s aware that he’s in the wrong (believe me that look on your face does wonders for trying to figure out whats on your mind) he’ll begrudgingly come up with some covert way of making it up to you. he doesn’t want to be stuck in this immortalised silence forever; believe me, he likes your talking more than he realises and this little test trial of abandonment was more than enough proof that your existence within his life is essential.

if you’re not there standing by his side, what even is the point in that fraudulent pacemaker of his? your laughter is in the same shape of his heartbeat; if you’re not here, he’s just back to being that dumb little puppet cuddled ashore in the slim darkness of the night.

K. AYATO — 神里绫人

bile builds up in ayato’s throat, eyes threatening to spill hazardous tears on his paperwork. he HATES being away from you. yes, you’ll be back comfortably in his arms with a kiss on your forehead soon…but time isn’t making that “soon” come any quicker and it’s killing him.

‘silence’ is only the act of not speaking, right? so he’s technically allowed to sneak in pastries onto your desk when you’ve gone to take a break — he’s also most certainly allowed to write down his frustrations about not being able to be overly affectionate with you and then pitifully sliding them under your door in hopes you’ll read them and maybe write one back.

WHO APOLOGISES FIRST?

he desperately tries to convince himself that if he works long enough, he’ll forget the hollowing feeling in his heart that’s left in the silhouette of you. he puts down his calligraphy pen with an exasperated sigh, rubbing his temples with rough motions as if to completely rid himself of any lingering thought of you.

that’ll never work, and ayato thinks you two have calmed down enough so therefore he trudged his way into your room, knocking of course, and sat down with you for a lengthy but beneficial conversation.

without a doubt, ayato will be the one to apologise first. whether it’s a conscious decision or not completely depends on how long he’s been away from you; at some point you just fall back into regular routine completely by accident.

GOROU — 五郎

he’s glad you’ve decided to take this sort of approach to your relationship instead of having a painful battle of the wits with him but right now, he’d withstand a thousand hours of scolding than the way his fellow soldiers worryingly clutter around their little general and ask about his well-being purely because those furry ears atop his bundle of bed hair decided to stay drooped down all week.

but he can’t help it! he’s utterly miserable! you didn’t even give him your complimentary “good morning, have fun at work, be safe” kiss before he left the door in the static quiet of your abode. to top this torture off? you haven’t pet him once, and while he’d normally revel in not being treated like an actual lap dog…you’re a huge exception in that rule!

unfortunately, it’s not like he can just outright demand attention from you merely because he’s feeling a bit down on his luck. you asked for peace, he’ll give it to you. he’s a war veteran but treats you like a flower thats sprouted on a ruined patch of sand.

ehem, but please come back to him soon. please?

WHO APOLOGISES FIRST?

whatever it takes to get your pretty hand to ruffle through his brunette locks he’ll do, he doesn’t care if the apology consists of him kneeling down on pitifully shaking his head near your thigh with his lips puckered into a pout. shame doesn’t exist within your relationship right? he’s more than willing to apologise first regardless of who was to blame.

if the argument was a little more serious however, he’ll sit down you on your couch that holds so many sweet significant memories within your mind, his head resting atop your collarbone and tail sneakily swishing from side to side now that your heartbeat was so clear to him. he’ll hear you out, talk through it, but more importantly, love and appreciate you.

TARTAGLIA — 公子

nuh uh. you think you’re getting silence with someone like him around? unless one or both of you fucked up really bad, tartaglia can’t see the point in silent ignorance; if you want to ignore him to personally calm down? sure, do whatever you want honey, you’re still getting treated like the other piece of his heart that you are.

if you’re genuinely annoyed he can leave you alone…for maybe two hours thirty minutes max. he loves you so much, talk to him, he doesn’t care if you insult him out of anger, lash out at him if you must. so long as you return into his arms so he can sway you around within his tender embrace and pepper your face with kisses, he’ll be more than happy and satisfied.

WHO APOLOGISES FIRST?

him all day — call it the big brother complex with having to always apologise first whenever he got into a slight squabble or disagreement with his siblings when he were younger, or call it pure unadulterated love for you and the refusal to continue with this pointless staring battles whenever you guys were sitting across from each other.

whatever it is, just know he takes your feelings seriously regardless of the teasing grin across his face when you try not to squirm from the way his hand traveled from across your waist to the slither of exposed stomach. he just wants to assure you that his love won’t ever fade even if it becomes so deliberately one sided. he’s yours, after all.

LYNEY — 林尼

he’s used to eerie silence that bellowed icy winds against his ears, used to the tension that forced out his fight or flight response, but currently all he could do was freeze and overthink. how come this silence seemed so much more deafening than usual?

lyney doesn’t want this worse than capital punishment torture to continue without at least the slightest bit of laughter mingled into both of your days; he tries his best to curve your lips to even the slightest twenty degree lift using whatever he could. silly little flower reappearing trick there, a sneaky kiss to the side of your neck here; just any fleeting desperate attempt for some reciprocation on your part.

WHO APOLOGISES FIRST?

lyney’s used to apologising first given his experiences within the house of hearth and the father herself. so imagine his surprise when you both incidentally stammer over one another as you two splutter apologies helplessly. god he’s so happy your relationship is built open gushes of giggles instead of the splats of tears because if it weren’t for that cute little accident? lyney was sure the second you opened your lovely lips to speak he would’ve teared up.

he missed that voice telling him constant i love yous, the affectionate cradling of his face against your neck and the way you wouldn’t hesitate to hold his flushed face within your cooling hands to comfort him after a particularly stress inducing performance.

WRIOTHESLEY — 莱欧斯利

you left the conversation with an “i love you.” so he knows that you’ll come back to him.

however, the last time he blindly trusted the comforting words of a loved one, it ended with blood on his hands and a lengthy sentence at the fortress of meropide. luckily for his heart and your own, he knows your charms and honeyed words aren’t for show and truly mean something.

wriothesley respects your boundaries and wishes to the t, he won’t speak to you like nothing at all happened but that doesn’t mean he won’t be overly cautious when it comes to your behavioural patterns. if he notices this sentence of silence is clearly taking its toll on you, he will, with no hesitation, talk everything out with you.

WHO APOLOGISES FIRST?

depending on the argument, he’ll apologise first. if it’s rather undeniable that you were the one in the wrong however, he’ll explain his feelings thoroughly until you apologise — the standard. he doesn’t want this silence to end till the fortress of meropide overflows with primordial water so once you see multiple guards on your case more than ever, just know he’d like to talk to you.

NEUVILLETTE — 那维莱特

fontaine has been drenched in rain for the past couple of days. every hour, every minute, every second neuvillette spends alone in his office makes him realise just how grand and solemn it is. everything is so mundane and banal…even the cheerful mutters and chatters of the sweet melusines couldn’t bring a smile to his face — much to the dismay of the little sigewinne who even so kindly brought him a cake to cheer him up…

what makes it even worse is that everything reminds him of you…and oh god the muddied clouds have once again been cursed with rain. this unquenchable thirst for your presence cannot be ignored by a mere sip from his intricate cup and being the ever so carefully mindful iudex, neuvillette sees it more than fit to call this hopeless game of silence to quits.

WHO APOLOGISES FIRST?

regardless of who’s in the wrong, neuvillette apologises first. he’s sorry for letting this go so far, he should’ve just trusted his gut and returned to your side even if it meant having to persuade you with his clever tongue or the coiling of his draconic tail around your leg to pull you sweetly closer.

honestly, if he could, he’d make this a punishment in the fortress of meropide for every couple. you committed a petty, technically non offensive crime? well instead of doing some charity work for the city, you’re not allowed by the side of your beloved for a few weeks.

ARLECCHINO — 阿蕾奇诺

a bunny within the jaws of a spring locked beast thinking it can persuade the tides in their favour with silence? arlecchino is amused you’d think such cheap tomfoolery would work to solve through your problems.

“darling, come here,” she taps her lap with her blood-stained nail, her eyes looking up at you greedily to soak up every single jitter of your movements as you alas fall onto your rightful throne, “my dumb bunny,” arlecchino coos at you with that devilishly low hum of her voice. “do you think the phrases ignorance is bliss, distance brings fondness, truly work within our relationship?”

arlecchino painfully grasps at your waist, that grip only loosening once you comfortably situate yourself on her thighs and lace your arms around her neck per routine. “i’d expect this behaviour from my children at the house of hearth, not you, angel.” she nibbles on your earlobe deliberately, forcing your lips to part just the way she likes. that perfect look of both surprise and desire; it’s a gorgeous display of your vulnerability.

“explain to me your problems, or else we can be at this forever.”

no such thing as the silent treatment when the very epitome of a wordless shadow has betrothed you.

©STARYUEE do not copy, steal or repost ♡ ᴜsᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ɪʜᴇᴀʀᴛɢᴀɴʏᴜ

#some quick drabbles bc i’ve got exams and coursework to do ;( #on hiatus till june 15! <3 love you lots muah take care of yourselves please 💗 #genshin x reader #genshin x gnreader #genshin x you #genshin x gn!reader #gi x reader #genshin #diluc x reader #eula x reader #wanderer x reader #scara x reader #scaramouche x reader #ayato x reader #gorou x reader #tartaglia x reader #lyney x reader #wriothesley x reader #neuvillette x reader #arlecchino x reader

[irregulardongyoung]

We Need You Back

TW : none.

What if you left the military because of health issue and decided to sign yourself back to college. Maybe you used to go to college but stop because of financial problem.

Working in the SAS for so many years means big paycheck and you’re barely having time to indulge yourself in luxury because of missions. It has made your bank account fat with money that you barely touch over the years. You don’t have to do any work or part time, just focus on studying.

One day, while you’re in class, suddenly all the window got shatter and door got forced open by bunch of men in military gear. Your professor look around in panic and anxiousness. On instinct, you reach for your knife that you hide in your boots but stop your movement when your eyes catches the familiar faces.

A bearded man with bucket hat approach you carefully, face stern but eyes soften as he took your form. “Sergeant Y/L/N,” Captain Price, your idol and the one who has help you many times, greeted you.

“Captain. I would say it’s good to see you but the circumstances seems to not be looking good...” you eyed the busted door on the corner of your eyes and also saw your former lieutenant, Ghost, standing there with your favorite mohawk guy, Soap and your bestie bug boy, Roach.

“Yeah... Sorry about the commotion, but we need you back.” Price said while Garrick hand you a bulletproof vest with a ‘sorry’ smile. At least he’s guilty, somewhat.

You heard whispers and looks from your new friends and the other students but all you can see/feel is the silent hopeful gazes of your old comrades.

You sighed out loud before grabbing the vest and putting it on, effortlessly. “Who’s the target?”

Ghost smirk under his mask, not worried at all since he knew you’ll be back. (Lies. He was worried you’ll decline and has loss sleep over it.)

Price smile knowingly and hand you a handgun while Soap goes to the professor to give them Laswell’s number for repairment.

Note : i do want to write this, but feel free to add your blurb too!

#darlingssaturn ‘s writing #cod x reader #call of duty x reader #john price x reader #captain price x reader #price x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #soap x reader #johnny mactavish x reader #cod x you #john soap mctavish x reader #cod x y/n #kyle garrick x reader #gaz x reader #task force 141 x reader #tf 141 x reader #task force 141 #gary sanderson x reader #gary roach sanderson

[syddsatyrn]

⛧Devotion is Love with Wings⛧ Chapter One: A Sleepless Sovereign

Ch1 / Ch2 / Ch3 / Ch4

⛧Pairing: - Lucifer Morningstar x Reader

⛧Warnings: Alcohol, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, king x servant, panic attack, heartbreak, happy ending.

⛧Words: 3.3k

⛧Summary: As Lucifer's advisor you are required to assist him with a number of things. That includes his schedule, many chores, and the occasional middle of the night panic attack.

⛧Notes: This is my first Hazbin Hotel fic! I hope you all like it because Alastor is my next victim. I just want to give poor Luci some love, he is such a cutie and he's been through enough! My beta reader is @hellfiremunsonn and we love her for that.

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

The sun rises and a soft glow illuminates the kitchen. Faint streaks of dawn get brighter as time goes by, the sky is painted with hues of pink and gold. Every day you wake before him and make his coffee. It was a morning ritual you’ve come to enjoy. The silence allowed you time to think and plan your day. As you fill a cup full of coffee, the smell permeates the air.

You carefully take the cup upstairs on a tray and down a long hallway. The air hummed with a faint scent of luxury. It's grandiose and extravagant manor, with gold trim in the hallway. Apples and angelic wings decorate the molding. Your footsteps echo against the marble floors until you stop at the large double doors. You open the right side of the door quietly. The room is dark, some light peeked through the window, but the long velvet curtains block out most of it.

He's so peaceful, lying there, the silk sheets covering his midsection leave little to the imagination. His messy blonde hair and soft face has always made your heart skip a beat. Soft snores escape his lips, you almost feel bad for waking him up while he’s in such a state.  

“Your majesty?” You finally speak. The King stirs and covers his face with his hands. He lets out a small groan in response.

*It's time to get up, sir.” You say as Lucifer slowly and reluctantly sits up. You hand him his coffee with a smile, he looks up at you with drowsy eyes. 

“Thank you, y/n.” He replied, taking a sip of the warm and bitter drink.  

You start to stroll around his room, picking up clothes that have been tossed and putting them in the laundry basket. Lucifer watches as you pick up his messy room, sipping his coffee occasionally. 

“You don't have to do all that y’know.” Lucifer says, feeling a little guilty about his disorganization. 

“Oh but I do, sir.” You said with a straight face. 

“Y/N, I don't know what I would do without you.” He admits with a soft chuckle. 

You smile, your face turns a little pink but it's hard to tell with the lights off. You walk over to the curtains and draw them open. Lucifer doesn't look too pleased with how bright it is. You walk over to his wardrobe and shuffle through the many different articles of clothing until you find his white suit with red accents. 

“Your daughter called, there are documents you need to look over and you have a meeting this afternoon.” You remind him as you place his clothes on the corner of his large bed.

“Can I just go back to sleep?” Lucifer pleads with you and you let out a small sigh.

“Every day you ask me the same question and every day I tell you the same answer…”

“So that's a no…?” He chuckles softly.

That is correct, your majesty.” You roll your eyes as you leave him to get dressed for the day. 

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

The relationship between you two has always been a little strange. You were hired many years ago as a maid for his estate. But after a small while grew to be his right hand, now you’re titled as his “advisor”. You take your job very seriously, everyday you make his coffee, bring him his meals, complete household chores, chauffeur him around, you even attend his meetings for him occasionally. Your entire life is devoted to your King, you felt it was a respectable title. You've worked hard to get to this point, and recognize the power that comes with that. After many years of proving yourself, Hell sees you as an extension of the royal family.

Lucifer had quite a soft spot for you, he offered you a room in his home so you can do your job without the bothersome commute. He pays you well and allows you access to many of his personal assets. The free room and board, along with never having to cook for yourself made it all worth it.

After some time you developed some feelings for him, but you would never admit that. You’re not up to that societal standard. You’ve always told yourself he could have anyone he wanted, which is true. The King of Hell was dashing and charming, but also extremely powerful. Despite all that he doesn't seem to fraternize with anyone, ever since Lilith left, it’s like he's lost that part of himself.

It was time for you to get yourself a cup of coffee and bring his breakfast to the dining hall. After finishing your task you sit down at the dining table and enjoy your coffee. Not long after, Lucifer emerges, dressed, but still looking rather fatigued.

“Did you not sleep well, sir?” You ask and bring your cup to your lips.

“No, I was tossing and turning all night.” He grumbles, the dark bags under his eyes are a dead giveaway.

“Hmm…you’ve been doing that quite a bit more often than usual.” You remark.

“I know! What is up with that? It's ridiculous.” The king says with a huff.

“Ridiculous indeed, sir.”

Lucifer called Charlie on his cellphone, and talked about the Hotel she was running. Charlie says he is due for a visit so you make a mental note to schedule that later. Your mind wanders as he talks on the phone while eating various fruits. The last time Lucifer wasn’t sleeping well he was having nightmares. You remember one awful night in particular, you were up late finishing some paperwork for him when suddenly you hear a scream coming from his room. You rush in and he's curled up in a ball, sobbing. You immediately crawl into his bed to comfort him, he laid his head in your lap and you played with his blonde hair until he fell back to sleep.  

“Y/N…?” Lucifer says and tilts his head slightly. Looks like he finished his phone call while you were lost in thought. You shake yourself from your memories, a pink tint spreads across your face.

“Yes?”

“Something on your mind, my dear?” He asks with a look of concern on his face. 

“No sir, it's nothing.” You assure him. Neither of you have spoken of that night since.

You continue to drink your coffee, Lucifer gives you a skeptical look and continues his breakfast. The day was a very average day. After breakfast Lucifer went to his study to read over some documents and sign a few things. You took his almost empty plate and cup to the kitchen and placed it in the sink for the staff to deal with. You text Charlie with a list of dates to choose from to schedule a visit, reassuring her that you’ll make it happen.

Next is time to clean Lucifer’s room. It's not disgusting by any means, more like cluttered. He tosses stuff on the floor absentmindedly and you always end up tidying the place at some point. Besides, you are the only one allowed in his room, who else is going to do it?

You collect all the empty liquor glasses and place them on a silver tray along with the empty decanter. Making his bed was rather difficult due to it being so large, but you manage like you always do. You tidy up his bathroom, finding more clothes tossed on the floor, you put them in the laundry hamper as well. You leave his room with the silver tray and take it to the kitchen. The staff fill the decanter and give you clean crystal glasses. You return to his room and set the tray on his desk. After that, you take the basket of clothes to the laundry room.

Before you know it, the clock strikes one and you make your way to Lucifer's study. You open the door softly and enter, you set down a small tray with a cup of tea and a plate of cookies on his desk. He picks up the cup and takes a sip, the tea is exactly how he likes it.

“Are you here to tell me I have to attend another one of those annoying meetings?” Lucifer asks in a slightly irritable tone. He spins the chair around to face you, his yellow eyes fixate on yours.

“I’m afraid so, your majesty.” You reply. Lucifer groans and slumps back in his chair. Sometimes he can be a little childish, you cover your mouth to stifle a giggle.

“Y/N, I can’t sit through another one of those meetings. I will literally wilt away into nothing.” Lucifer says, he turns to face you and takes your hand in his. He softly squeezes it, your face turns a little pink as you look down and meet his begging eyes with yours.

“Can you go instead? Pretty please?” You can never resist those eyes and he knows it. Your face softens and you squeeze his hand back.

“Okay, but don't make this a habit.” You say you let go of his hand. Still trying to retain some sort of professionalism.

“Thanks doll, I owe you one.” He says with a warm smile, the same smile that makes your heart skip a beat every single time. You bow and leave him to his work, once you get behind closed doors you let out a long sigh, you truly don't want to attend this meeting either. But it can’t be helped, the show must go on.

You grab your overcoat, cellphone, keys, and meet the driver out front. It didn't take long to arrive at Carmilla’s manor. You have been asked to attend a meeting with the overlords and report back to Lucifer. The guards led you through the manor to a large meeting room, you open the door and it seems everyone is in attendance.

The V’s, Zestial, Alastor, Rosie, Zeezi and Ms Carmilla Carmine herself. You take the empty seat next to Zestial.

“My my, I didn't think Lucifer would send his pet, but Miss Carmine, I thought there was a No Dogs Allowed sign out front?” Alastor immediately starts with the catty behavior. You don't have time for any of this, you need to be home soon to serve supper.

"Your words are like a bad song on repeat. Spare us." You retort with your arms folded. The Radio Demon gives you a sinister stare and you roll your eyes at his half baked attempt at scaring you.

“Please, can we start this stupid meeting? I have somewhere to be.” Velvet says looking at her phone, not paying much attention to anything else. Vox agrees with her and Carmilla begins to speak on various topics.

The meeting felt like it ran longer than expected, it was concerning how we move forward now that exterminations are no longer an issue. They spoke of which towns were hit the hardest by the attack, what kind of ongoing plans they have and how to proceed with caution, for we do not trust the Angels and their hidden intentions. After a while, the conversations started to devolve into personal ones.

“Lucifer will be assisting the Pride Ring as best he can, any requests for aid on his part can go through me for approval. Trust that they will be hand delivered to him in person. The King wants nothing more to provide relief for his people.” Was the last thing you said before getting up and excusing yourself from the meeting, politely.

When you make it back to the car, you let out a sigh of relief. It's finally over, time to head back to the manor. When you returned it was already late into the afternoon. You hang up your coat and head to the kitchen, you pour Lucifer a small glass full of whiskey and ice. Before you put the bottle back in its place you take a quick swig, that meeting was just agonizing. You needed something to take the edge off.

You walk to the study with the glass on a silver tray, as you open the door, she sees Lucifer in his chair, reading.

“Good afternoon, your majesty.” You greet him with a smile and a short bow.

“Ah good, you’re back. How was the meeting?” He asks, genuinely curious. 

“It was…interesting, to say the least.” You reply while handing him the glass. “I can see why you did not want to attend.”

“They are so insufferable, right?” He says and takes a sip. 

“Indeed, sir.” You don't wish to mention Alastor’s comment from earlier, the last thing you need to do is give him something to be cross about.

“Dinner will be ready soon. Is there anything else I can do for you, sir?” You ask politely.

“Oh no, you always do so much. Thank you Y/N.” Lucifer takes another sip of his whiskey.

You dismiss yourself and head down to the kitchen to help prepare dinner for yourself and Lucifer.

Lucifer spins around in his chair and takes a sip of the drink you left him with. He’s trying to hide it but he’s absolutely exhausted. Lately when he’s tried to sleep, memories flood his mind like ghosts of the past. The absence of warmth beside him was a void he could not fill. When he will be free from the torment, he is unsure. But every day he wakes up and there you are, right beside him as always. He knows you try to put off a cold exterior, you’re the king's guard dog after all. You were always one to never indulge your secrets but he knew a few things about you that no one else did.

The night you held him in your lap it looked as though he had fallen asleep. While you carded your fingers through his hair you whispered “I wish you knew how remarkable I think you are.” He heard you loud and clear. The King always had a space in his heart dedicated to you, but you’re his advisor, consultant, and au pair. How would the world see you both as a couple? It was certainly something that would be looked down upon by most. A bell rings and pulls him from his thoughts, dinner is ready.

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

He sits in his usual spot and you always sit on his right side. Dinner was a mix of high grade meats and vegetables. You cut into your food and display proper table manners, Lucifer sneaks glances at you when he thinks you’re not looking.

“I scheduled a time for you to visit your daughter's hotel this Thursday.” You remark and Lucifer nods with food in his mouth.

“Good, I’ve been meaning to visit, I’ve just been so tired lately, and If I’m not tired I’m busy.”

“You need some proper rest, sir.” You state the obvious. You wish there was something else you could do to assist him with this.

“Trust me, if I had the choice I’d be asleep right now, my dear.” He takes another bite, his face looks a little forlorn. Usually you would keep to yourself unless Lucifer would outright say something is wrong, but this is different.

“Is there something wrong, sir?”

“No, it's nothing, Y/N. I’m just tired, I swear.” He says, trying to brush off any depressive feelings. You give him a bit of side eye but decide to let it go. But deep down you knew something was troubling him. It was just a matter of if and when he will tell you. You both continue eating, he tells you about the book he's reading in hopes to clear the melancholy vibe in the room. You sit and listen to him ramble on like any other normal day.

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

It was getting late, Lucifer was in his room, drink in hand. Outside, the world slumbered beneath a blanket of stars, oblivious to his pain. With the window open he seeks solace in the cold night air. But the chill only served to remind him of the emptiness inside. He downs the rest of his drinks and sets it on the nightstand. He crawls under the covers and closes his eyes and wraps his arms around himself as he tries to get some rest.

But all he could see is her, walking away, leaving him heartbroken and devastated. A single tear falls down his cheek. He buries his face in the pillow and tries to forget these memories, good and bad. The minutes pass like fleeting shadows, and Lucifer finally starts to fall asleep. But not long after he wakes up in a cold sweat with a scream. His chest heaves and he feels like he can’t breathe, he looks down at his shaking hands.

You were doing your rounds in your silk pajamas, locking doors and shutting windows. You said goodnight to the kitchen staff and headed upstairs. Then suddenly you hear a loud scream come from Lucifer's bedroom, you immediately rush up the stairs to the door and open it.

He’s sitting upright in his bed, knees against his chest, holding his face in his hands. Tears streaming down his cheeks as he recalls the haunting memories. You don't say anything, you quickly sit beside him and place your hand on his back. He immediately pulls you in for a hug, you’re surprised at first but you hug him back. He buries his face in your shoulder, letting out soft muffled sobs. 

“Shhhh…it's going to be okay…I’m here…I’ve got you.” You whisper soft words of reassurance in his ear, he just hugs you tighter.

“I’m so sorry…” He says between sniffles and you start to gently rub his back. You wished there was a way to stop him from feeling so miserable, but all you can do is sit and comfort him for as long as he needs. In the safety of your arms, the remnants of the dream began to dissipate. Your familiar voice and smell provided a soothing counterpoint to the chaos of his mind.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for, my dear.” You say as you pet the back of his head, his face finally emerges from your shoulder and meets your gaze. You gently wipe away any stray tears with your thumb and give him a soft smile. “Tough times don’t last, tough people do, and you’re one of the strongest people I know.” You say just barely above a whisper. 

A small smile appears on his face and you brush away a few stray hairs, glad that your king is feeling a little better. “Is there anything else I can do to make you feel more at ease?”

“I do have one request…But I’m not sure how you’re gonna feel about it.” He says, while looking away, he’s definitely embarrassed by his own question.

“Try me.” You reply, it can’t be that bad, he’s never asked you to do anything you’re not okay with.

“I would really appreciate it if I didn't have to sleep alone tonight…” He finally asks, he blushes a little, unsure if that's even okay to ask. You can't help but also turn a little red, this is absolutely not allowed, but maybe the rules have exceptions in times of crisis.

“Yeah…I can do that.” You agree.

Lucifer’s golden eyes widen and he perks up a bit. “R-Really?”

“Yes, really.” You chuckle softly.

Lucifer crawls back under the covers and opens his arms for you to join him. You crawl over to him and settle in, his arms wrap around you and you lace your fingers with his hand, allowing him to spoon you. His body heat and the chill night air was the perfect combination to lull you to sleep.

“Goodnight Luci~” You say before sleep starts to drag you away from this world. A nickname you lovingly use very rarely. He nuzzles your shoulder and drifts off rather quickly with nothing but a content smile on his face. When you two will admit your feelings for each other is a mystery, but for now, you’re happy just to be his biggest support system. If there's one thing you’ve learned living with Lucifer, it's that devotion in any form, is love with wings.

#lucifer morningstar x reader #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor #hazbin hotel x you #lucifer x reader #Lucifer Morningstar x you #hazbin hotel fanfiction #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #hazbin lucifer #hazbin spoilers #hazbin #hazbin hotel alastor

[pedge-page]

Closer

sub/Himbo!Joel Miller x F!Reader

can be read as a follow up to Safe or standalone

Summary: you give Joel exactly what you both want, and he feels closer to you than ever before.

Warnings: Sub!Joel, Himbo!Joel, Mommy kink, Breeding Kink, unprotected sex, creampie, cum eating, face riding, oral F! receiving, premature ejaculation, preg, Joel gets called puppy

18+ ONLY

- - - -

He’s barely thrusting in and out any more. Just pathetic grinding and unrhythmic humps with pathetic whines and unrhythmic grunts.

You squeeze the fat around his hips, your legs dangling off to each of his sides. His head tucked low with his sweaty forehead resting atop your breasts his eyes remained glued to the spot where he disappears into your sopping cunt. where the two of you are Joined. Connected. Close.

He lets out a harsh gasp. “I made—mmmmffff—Mommy my cum dump,” he hums proudly. His brows suddenly furrow in concentration when your warm walls tighten.

"Where did you learn that? Who said that?"

His hips slow their pace. Eyes refusing to find yours after such a bold statement. Embarassment washes over him. “Um... Tommy said... you were like my cum dump... because I keep dumping my load inside you.” Joel stills entirely, the downward cast of his face giving way to his guilty conscious.

You squish his cheeks and make him look at you like a grown man. There’s such a thrill buried inside you when he perks up at direct eye contact from you, even when you're scolding him, like you were granting him such luxuries to be acknowledged. “Don't listen to Tommy. Mommy tells you what you need to know.” 

He nods obediently, picking up his frantic thrusts again with renewed security.

Your nails claw against his broad, sun speckled back. The reminder of his muscled form doesnt deter your control over him in the slightest. and he doesn't mind surrendering to you entirely either.

His harsh pants fan across your throat, pulling him closer in to your warm embrace. Your body bounces back and forth with each rock of his cock plunging into you. Soft lips kissing away the sweat under your jaw. You can feel the smile crinkle around his cheeks pressing against your shoulder. Joel feels so capable yet so protected with you. He never wants to leave your comfort.

You can tell from the high pitched puppy noises he’s making mixed with the swell of his cock reaching deeper inside your pussy that he’s getting close. Working to secure yet another generous load of his seed inside you.

“Hey,” you coo, kissing his forehead before bringing his eyes to meet yours. God, he looked so perfect like this—all lost and dazed, not a thought behind those eyes except Mommy’s cunt, Mommy’s pussy, MommyMommyMommy. He’s half listening, so pussy whipped out of his mind, but you know he’s going to love your next words:

 “We're gonna have a baby."

A fat grin spreads over his entire face before his lips are parting in an “o,” slamming into you one last time balls deep. He’s so excited that he cums. His movement stops altogether, groaning with an eye rolling orgasm, spilling his hot creamy spend into your already fertilized womb.

You laugh at him. “Happy, you're making me a real Mommy?”

"Because—because I put my cum inside mommy!"

"Yes sweetie.” yours lips find his, sucking away his pants. "And you're gonna be a Daddy."

"I did—“ he gasps loudly, trying to talk and catch his breath—“I did a good job.” He’s wrecked but trying so hard to recognize the reward of his hard work. The thing you had been promising him for ages finally come to fruition and its because of him. He should be proud. He knows you’re proud.

"Baby will grow better if you keep putting more in,” you tease, hands creeping over his ass and pushing him further inside you, forcing his seed to your cervix.

“Mommy,” he whines, knees rutting forward so he’s grinding against your mound. You can feel each ripple of his glutes flexing underneath your fingertips. 

“Are you being selfish? Doesn’t Mommy get to cum?”

He nods, fearful that you would think he’s leaving you out. Even if he would forget to please you, Joel’s only purpose is to please you, fulfill your needs and empty his balls into you and breed. Only in this case, he's the livestock sperm-bank to your nurturing and greedy will.

“Roll over.”

He switches positions so fast, the back of his head slamming into the pillow, body jittery with excitement. He only briefly misses your warm cunt, worried over the cum that is still there.

“Good puppy boy,” you praise.

If Joel had a tail, it would be sprained from how hard he’s wagging.

You climb atop Joel's face. 

He immediately sees the pearly drops of his cum starting to seep out of from your slit. “No! No no Mommy it's leaving your pussy!"

You pin his wrists down with your knees, and he almost cries at the tortured sight of it slowly dripping from your throbbing cunt, down your folds and on to his chin.

"Then you'll put more in. Shhh. It's okay, don't panic. You’ll have more cum to put in me.”

Joel steadies his breathing as you stroke soothingly over his scruffy cheek. He knows you'll take more and more from him as you please, but he really needs to let this go if that's what you command. you know better than he does, afterall.

Your thumb and finger clench his cheeks tightly, wakening him to your attention. 

“But it's my decision. I decide what to do with you cum. Your body. Your cock. I decide what's best for you."

He nods, mouth muffled as you sink yourself onto his face. He eagerly laps at his messy seed from you like honey straight from the hive. He gets lost in it, the salty thick taste invading his buds, humming with his pretty lashes closed. His gentle hands, all rough on the exterior but so loving with intent, slide up along your middle until he's gently splayed a palm over your lower tummy, dreaming, wondering, hoping, excited to feel it swell so soon knowing he put a child in you. The room is so quiet. Intimate just between the two of you. Your fingers dance over his, layered on top and rolling each roll of your pussy onto his face. His eyes open and you smile warmly at him. You feel his breath hitch at the sight of you, so enthralled to be so much closer to mommy, tied together, physically and emotionally, than ever before.

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More: Mine is Mine

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#pedro pascal smut #sub!joel x reader #sub!joel miller #sub!joel smut #sub!joel #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel tlou #joel miller fic #joel miller fan fiction #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us smut #the last of us fic #tlou smut #tlou fanfiction #tlou fic #last of us fanfiction #last of us smut #last of us fic #joel miller x you

[bangchansdirty-slut]

"We've only just begun."

Paring: Top GP!Yunjin x Maid Bottom!Reader

Genre: Smut

Summary: Yunjin just had one of the best room services of her life.

More: Masterlist

A/n: Bro Yunjin's solo part during MAMA 2023 makes me feel thingz, anywayz requests are opened.

Yunjin had been looking forward to her vacation at the luxurious hotel by the beach. It was a place where she often came with her family to create memories and escape from the hectic life of being in the spotlight. As she stepped out of the car, a warm breeze caressed her face, carrying the sweet scent of the ocean. She glanced around, taking in the breathtaking view of the crystal clear water and the white sandy beach, feeling a sense of peace wash over her.

After checking in and dropping off her luggage, Yunjin made her way to her hotel room. As she unlocked the door, she was met with the familiar scent of their family's favorite perfume. It was a comforting aroma that instantly made her feel at home. She walked over to the balcony, opening the doors to let in the fresh sea air, and gazed out at the ocean once again.

The next morning, Yunjin woke up to the sound of birds chirping outside her window. She stretched lazily, enjoying the warmth of the sun against her skin. As she lay there, she heard a knock on the door. Thinking it was probably just the maid, she called out, "Just a moment!" and rolled out of bed. She slipped on one of her comfiest dresses and went to answer the door. To her surprise, standing on the other side was the hotel's maid service, who seemed to be looking for her.

"Oh, hello!" Yunjin said, opening the door wider. "I'm Yunjin. How can I help you?"

The maid, a young woman with shy eyes and a name tag that read "Y/n", hesitantly stepped forward. "Um, I-I'm here to clean your room, miss. I just… I wanted to make sure you were awake." Her voice was soft and sweet, with a hint of nervousness.

Yunjin raised an eyebrow. "Oh, okay. Well, I just woke up, so I'll give you a few minutes to finish getting ready." She gestured for the maid to enter the room. As Y/n walked past her, Yunjin couldn't help but notice that she was wearing the shortest maid outfit she had ever seen. The top barely covered her chest, revealing her perky breasts and a hint of her black lace bra, while the short skirt barely covered her hips, leaving her panties on full display. She had never seen anyone wear such revealing clothing in public before.

Intrigued, Yunjin decided to explore the room while Y/n cleaned. As she walked around, she noticed that the maid seemed to be taking extra care with her bed, fluffing the pillows and straightening the sheets. Suddenly, she felt a strange sensation between her legs. It was almost as if she was aroused. She couldn't believe it; she had never experienced anything like this before.

Curious, she followed Y/n into the bathroom. The maid was busying herself with the towels, her back turned to Yunjin. Yunjin hesitantly approached her and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Um, Y/n?" she said softly. The maid jumped slightly at her touch and turned around, her face flushed.

"Oh, hello miss Yunjin. Did you need something?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly. Yunjin couldn't help but stare into Y/n's big, expressive eyes. They were so innocent and beautiful.

"No, no, it's nothing important. I just… I felt something strange in my chest. It's nothing serious, I'm sure. Maybe I'm just nervous about being in a new place," she lied, hoping that Y/n wouldn't notice her heart racing.

Y/n nodded, looking relieved. "Oh, I see. Well, I hope you enjoy your stay here. If you need anything, please don't hesitate to ask." She offered a small, shy smile before turning back to her work.

Yunjin couldn't help but feel drawn to Y/n. There was something about her innocence and vulnerability that made Yunjin want to protect her. As she watched Y/n work, she found herself growing more and more aroused. She felt guilty for having these thoughts about someone who was only doing her job, but she couldn't deny the intense desire welling up inside her.

Finally, Y/n finished cleaning the room and turned to face Yunjin. "Well, I'm all done miss Yunjin. If you need anything else, just give me a shout." She bowed her head respectfully, her hair falling over her shoulders.

Yunjin cleared her throat, trying to regain her composure. "Um, Y/n? There is something I wanted to ask you." She hesitated, feeling a blush creep up her cheeks. "How did you know to wear such a… revealing uniform?" She couldn't believe she had just said that out loud.

Y/n's face flushed even deeper, and she lowered her eyes. "I-I'm sorry, miss Yunjin. I shouldn't have worn it. It's just… the manager said it would be more… 'entertaining' for the guests." She bit her lip, looking genuinely apologetic.

"No, no, it's not your fault. I just… I'm not used to seeing something like that. It's quite… alluring," Yunjin admitted, feeling her heart race as she spoke. She couldn't believe she was having this conversation with the maid.

Y/n's eyes widened at her words, and she took a step closer, her chest heaving slightly. "A-alluring?" she repeated, her voice barely above a whisper. "R-really?"

Yunjin nodded, unable to take her eyes off of the maid. "Yes, really. You're very… attractive." She swallowed hard, feeling the blood rushing to her cheeks. "I've never seen anyone quite like you before."

Y/n's face lit up at her words, and she took another step closer, her chest brushing against Yunjin's arm. "T-thank you, miss Yunjin. You're very kind." She bit her lip, her eyes darting back and forth between Yunjin's face and her chest. "I-I'm sorry if my uniform is making you uncomfortable."

Yunjin felt a shiver run down her spine at the maid's closeness. "No, it's not that. It's just… I've never felt this way before. You're so beautiful, and your uniform… it's very alluring." She reached out and gently traced the collarbone visible beneath Y/n's thin blouse. "I want to see more of you."

Y/n let out a soft moan, her eyes fluttering shut as she leaned into Yunjin's touch. "M-more of me?" she whispered. "You want to see me… undress?" She bit her lower lip nervously, her breath coming faster.

Yunjin nodded, her heart racing in anticipation. "Yes, please. I want to see everything you've got." She reached out, slowly untying the sash that held Y/n's hair in place, letting it tumble down around her shoulders in a curtain of red. The maid shivered slightly at the contact, her breasts rising and falling rapidly as she drew in deep, shaky breaths.

As Y/n began to unbutton her blouse, Yunjin's eyes traced the line of her collarbone, then down to the lacy black bra that Y/n wore beneath. She couldn't help but marvel at the maid's perfect figure, wishing she could touch and taste every inch of her skin.

"Take off your blouse, Y/n," Yunjin whispered, her voice barely audible over the pounding of her heart. The maid hesitated for a moment, her fingers trembling as they fumbled with the last button, before slowly pushing it free. Her blouse fell to the floor in a silken pool at her feet, revealing her bra and the supple curves of her breasts.

Yunjin's gaze was riveted to the sight before her, and she couldn't help but reach out to touch them. Her fingers brushed against the soft, warm skin of Y/n's breasts, causing the maid to shiver and moan softly. "Oh, miss Yunjin…" she breathed, her hips moving involuntarily against Yunjin's touch.

Y/n's bra followed her blouse to the floor, revealing her perfect, bare breasts to Yunjin's hungry gaze. They were even more beautiful than she had imagined, with stiff nipples that hardened even more at the touch of Yunjin's fingers. The maid arched her back, pressing her breasts against Yunjin's hands, and let out a soft, pleading moan.

"You're so beautiful, Y/n," Yunjin whispered, her words thick with desire. "I want to see everything." She moved her hands down, tracing the line of Y/n's ribs and over her flat stomach. The maid shivered violently at the touch, her hips bucking forward as she tried to draw closer to Yunjin.

As Yunjin's fingers brushed against the cloth of her skirt, Y/n's breath hitched in her throat. "O-okay, miss Yunjin," she managed to choke out, her voice barely audible above the pounding of her heart. She reached down and slowly began to untie the sash that held her skirt in place.

The moment Y/n's skirt fell to the floor, revealing her black panties and the smooth, toned legs beneath, Yunjin felt a wave of heat wash over her. She reached out and cupped Y/n's breast, squeezing gently as she drew the maid closer. Y/n moaned, arching her back as she pressed herself against Yunjin's touch.

"You're so beautiful, Y/n," Yunjin breathed, her fingers tracing over the soft, warm skin of Y/n's stomach. "So perfect." She moved her hands lower, sliding them between them, feeling the soft, warm flesh of Y/n's thighs. The maid let out a shuddering breath, her hips moving restlessly against Yunjin's touch.

As Yunjin's fingers brushed against the fabric of Y/n's panties, the maid let out a soft moan, her head falling back against Yunjin's shoulder. "M-more, miss Yunjin," she whispered, her body trembling with need. Yunjin smiled, her heart racing as she pulled Y/n's panties aside, baring her to the touch. The maid's wetness glistened in the candlelight, and Yunjin could feel the heat emanating from her core.

With a shaking hand, she reached out and touched Y/n's clit, circling it gently at first, then with increasing pressure as the maid arched her back, moaning loudly. Y/n's hips bucked wildly, her fingers digging into the sheets as her orgasm built, and then Yunjin removed her hand from Y/n's clit, sliding her cock inside Y/n, "Oh my god! I-I never felt a girl's c-cock b-before 's good"Y/n moans.

Yunjin felt the tightness of Y/n's entrance as she thrust deeper, her hips meeting the maid's in a rhythmic dance. The sound of their skin slapping together filled the room, and Y/n's moans and gasps filled the air. She moved with a frenzied urgency, lost in the sensation of being inside Y/n, of feeling her body move in perfect harmony with hers.

As they continued to fuck, their breathing grew ragged and their skin glistened with sweat. Yunjin reached down and pinched Y/n's hard nipples, eliciting another moan from the maid. She leaned forward, her breasts pressing against Y/n's, and bit down gently on her neck, drawing a thin line of blood. The taste of it sent a shiver through her, intensifying the pleasure coursing through her body.

Y/n arched her back, her fingernails digging into the sheets as she felt the sensation of being filled by Yunjin. Her hips bucked wildly, meeting each thrust, her orgasm building with every passing moment. "I'm close," she gasped, her voice strained. "I'm close, miss Yunjin."

Yunjin's breath came in ragged gasps as she felt the tightness of Y/n's body begin to give way. With a final, brutal thrust, she let out a long, shuddering moan, and says"Me too Y/n. I can't wait to feel you up to the brim with my load and watch it pour out of you."

Her words sent a shockwave through Y/n, pushing her over the edge. Her body arched violently as her orgasm crashed over her, her scream echoing through the room. "Yesss!" she cried, her fists clenched in the sheets as wave after wave of pleasure washed over her.

Yunjin felt the tightness of Y/n's channel finally give way, allowing her to thrust deeper, her hips slamming into Y/n's body as she emptied herself inside of her. Her orgasm was intense, shuddering through her body as she let out a long, satisfied moan. She collapsed on top of Y/n, their sweat-slicked skin sticking together, her chest heaving as she fought for breath.

For a moment, the only sound in the room was the sound of their labored breathing, interspersed with the occasional soft moan. Then, as Yunjin's breathing began to steady, she reached down between their bodies and gently stroked Y/n's soft, spent clit, eliciting a gasp from the maid.

"Is that… is that it?" Y/n whispered, her voice still shaky from her orgasm. Yunjin smiled and kissed her, tasting the saltiness of their sweat on her lips. "Oh, no baby," she said, her fingers still moving in a teasing circle around Y/n's sensitive nub.

"We've only just begun."

#bangchansdirty-slut #le sserafim #le sserafim x reader #le sserafim smut #le sserafim x reader smut #huh yunjin #huh yunjin x reader #huh yunjin smut #huh yunjin x reader smut #kpop smut #smut #girl x reader #maid outfit #maid uniform

[holybibly]

Bunnies, I'm in a good mood today, so I'm going to give you a little teaser of my upcoming work with Hwa. I'm going to raise the bar for fanfic writing by creating the most gothic and decadent universe possible. It's a vicious mix of Interview with the Vampire and Dracula, so if you don't like bloody luxury, I feel so sorry for you.

It has always been like this, and it will always be like this—people avoid the village that stands beside the sinister Gothic castle where, according to legend, a beautiful midnight somnambulist holds the guilty legacy of his bloodthirsty ancestors. Dressed in an ancient coronation robe, the magnificent prince of vampires sits alone in his dark, vast house, under the watchful eye of his mad and terrible ancestors, who stare at him from faded portraits, each of them prolonging their dreary posthumous existence through him. He spreads the tarot cards, tirelessly constructing endless constellations of indeterminate possibilities, as if a chance fall of cards on a regal, bloody velvet tablecloth could take him out of this cold, shuttered room and into a land of eternal summer and human warmth, erasing his heart's ancient sadness and allowing him to feel the love for the one who embodies both life and death simultaneously.

His voice is full of the distant echoes of long-forgotten love poems, like an echo that has resounded beneath the layers of the earth: "You have traveled to a place from which there is no return; you have traveled to a place from which there is no return. And he himself is like a dark dungeon filled with lonely echoes—a system of repetition, a closed circle. He is so handsome that his beauty appears unnatural; his beauty is an anomaly, a perfect defect, for in none of his hypnotic features is there even a suggestion of the poignant imperfection manifested in the imperfection of human existence. His beauty is the sign of a fatal disease; his blood is full of poison; and his black tears are the sign of the absence of a soul in him. 

The elegant hands of the beautiful denizens of darkness are the guides of the hand of fate. The nails on his hands are long and sharpened like steel daggers. These nails and teeth—beautiful, glistening in the darkness like snow under the light of the moon—are visible signs of his inescapable fate, which he so desperately tries to escape with magical powers. His claws and teeth have been honed by centuries of brutal wars and bloody orgies; he is the last descendant of a poisonous, barren tree that took root in a time when men worshipped blind gods and the forces of nature. 

As soon as the flaming sun sets, he rises from his luxurious bed and goes to the table, and sitting at that table, he plays his patient game until hunger awakens in him—an insatiable, scorching hunger that burns his whole being. 

#ateez smut #kpop smut #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #ateez fanfic #atz smut #smut #seonghwa smut #hongjoong smut #san smut #yunho smut #mingi smut #jongho smut #wooyoung smut #yeosang smut #seonghwa x reader #hongjoong x reader #mingi x reader #san x reader #wooyoung x reader #yunho x reader #jongho x reader #yeosang x reader #ateez unholy hours #park seonghwa smut #ateez fanfiction #ateez scenarios #ateez hard thoughts #ateez hard hours

[sordidmusings]

Fixing What Ifs (Mihawk x F!Reader)

A/N: For this ancient request (told you they are not forgotten just severely neglected 💀). I really hope I captured the type of scene you were looking for! Debating on writing a follow up smut because sex as the culmination of pining?? That's that good good right there that is. Bless up to @fanaticsnail for cheering me while writing this, would've very much struggled without you love bug 🤍🤍🤍

Listening to: Prove Your Love - Fleetwood Mac, Go Slowly - Radiohead, Love Song - Lesley Duncan

Word Count: ~4.5k

Warnings: Fem!reader, a gratuitous amount of mutual pining, kind of bantering?, Mihawk leans opla in that he has such sass, a few flashback scenes, Mihawk is a Man who does not know how to deal with being in love, but he’s trying like a lot, I mean he even kisses your wrist, probably idiots in love, there's one brief allusion to Buggy cuz I Need Him

Snippet:

“You say that as if we’re too old to have options.” He spoke quite steadily, but you noticed his golden eyes flicking to you, ravenously seeking your reaction. You knew he was trying to cover at least a little; your equal skills in observation were a beauty and a bane to him. It was your favorite source of bickering, giving you many lines to smile at when you were stuck in lonely nights tracking targets.

“You are in your forties,” you teased. Again, you took a sip to think. You meant to find some words to match his characteristic tone (“Joints still working well enough to properly share a bed?”), but instead what came out was “though you’ve aged better than I imagined in our twenties”. You blamed that you had finally looked over and taken in his face, sculpted angles all alive and aglow in the torch-light. There was also that defined chest that he maddeningly always insisted on showing everyone. You probably would too, looking like that.

“You should know by now I always exceed expectation,” Mihawk said without a hint of gloating, just simply stating an absolute fact.

“There’s still many places I’ve yet to see that proven,” you responded, words coy and teasing but smile easy and affectionate. Mihawk would need much more intimacy before he admitted how that smile stalled his thoughts. You would need much more boldness before you let him know you noticed when you managed to halt his breath.

~ ~ ~ ••• ✦✦✦ ••• ~ ~ ~

“I’ve chosen another I want you to try. Push your glass this way,” Mihawk prompted gently. Years of knowing him let you pick up the hints of eagerness hidden under his usual drawl.

You watched Mihawk’s hands and forearms work as he opened another bottle to share. He had foregone his coat tonight, instead draping himself with a well-cut white shirt, sleeves rolled to the elbows and buttons undone to below his sternum, of course. Toned muscle danced under his skin with every twist and turn, leading you to great distraction throughout the process of him serving you. After enjoying the sculpt of his large hand while it gripped the full bottle to pour your glass, you changed your attention to the luxurious material of his shirt, fluttering over his chest and playing against tanned skin and his heavy gold cross. You wished you could find an excuse to pull at that hem, testing the softness of the material and making it reveal more for you.

The dark green bottle thumping back down on the bartop brought your attention away from your companion and back to your refreshed drink. You did feel a bit guilty that Mihawk’s description of the new wine was going near completely ignored (you at least caught the words “barrel-aged”, flattered he remembered your offhand comment about that preference from months ago). You just couldn’t get yourself to pay attention; your mind was swimming through multiple years at once any time it wasn’t grounded by his visage. Wistfulness had a stranglehold on you tonight, keeping you locked between painful yearning and bittersweet nostalgia. The comfort of hearing his smooth voice accompanied by the quietly unfolding lives of every stranger in the bar did reach you, however. You took solace in that while you went for your first sip.

“You’re much quieter than usual,” Mihawk prodded with dry displeasure. That displeasure was interrupted when he got to enjoy your usual show of flicking your tongue out to lick your glass and then your lips upon the first taste.

You took another, much longer sip of your drink to delay the need to respond. It was an easy choice of diversion; the wine was exquisite as always. You’d tell him as much if you were more in the mood for the gloating, simpering glow he’d get from earning a stroke to his ego from you.

“I thought you’d like that,” you offered quietly. You swept a fingertip around the slick rim of your glass, mindless in your feeling and seeing and doing. This absent state let Mihawk watch for every detail of the action to better imagine how that trailing fingertip would feel against his skin. 

“Clearly you’re not as observant as you think,” he dug back, this time with much more amusement warming his voice, yet not quite enough to completely melt the snideness out.

Despite yourself, you smiled. Years of rivalry softened you to affection. Over those years of pushing yourselves and each other, bitterness became respect, respect became comradery, and comradery became admiration. In you, that admiration had long bloomed into devotion, petals bursting open in a stalwart stand against his consistent frigid air. Some days they withered, but then he would reach to you, hearten you, or defend you in a way that would have new buds growing more and more numerous until you had a field that could withstand winter's chill, turning to ice sculptures in each frost instead of decaying pulp.

“I blame your wines,” you chuckled, still taking yet another sip despite the accusation. “They have me stuck reminiscing.”

“I’d advise against that; it’s a trying endeavor. Wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself,” Mihawk teased, doing a great job of masking his fondness with wry wit. He did venture to expose his curiosity, however. “Where and when does your mind have you trapped?”

“Our first meeting.”

Mihawk barely managed to keep from choking on his wine. He didn’t want to tip you off on how much that memory affected him. And it would be a shame to waste such an expensive drink.

“Why would you be thinking of that ridiculous affair?” There goes the effort at keeping you in the dark.

“What?” you asked with mock shock. “The only thing that was ridiculous was how little you trusted the top marksman to do her job.”

“You didn’t exactly scream competency,” Mihawk defended, hiding his fluster behind rudeness and the rim of his glass. The dim lighting of the bar would have hid it for him anyway; the few torch chandeliers did wonders for turning him to a living Baroque painting, but they were known for their shadows more than their breadth of hues. 

“That is one thing you always did have on me,” you relented easily, more set on imagining the immaculately groomed and glaring warlord who first saw you than needing to keep a score with his modern counterpart at your side.

~ ~ ~ ••• ~ ~ ~

“They asked for me for a reason, you’re more useful elsewhere.”

“I’m useful everywhere you’ll find,” he dismissed easily, as sure of that fact as in the rising of the sun each day. You were a hard one to shake, but the way his namesake hawk’s eyes cut through you had you feeling exposed and vulnerable. It had you needing to make him just as small as the little pieces his endlessly picking gaze had shredded you into. 

“Then go be useful as something other than my shadow. Some of us are actually working.” Even in your exasperation fueled anger, you sounded more like you were asking than telling. The ease with which he commanded was yet another skill you’d spotted on him so quickly in these few days together that had you feeling out of your league. You were beginning to think he took great joy in your mounting discomfort with the way he hovered around, always looking for another soft spot to peck at.

“You’ve been laying at this spot for days, Viper, with nothing to show for it,” Mihawk said, phrasing the truth quite unfairly. Viper was the code-name gifted to you in your work; the snakes could sit still as the dead for weeks, waiting for the one moment that prey finally crossed their path. That same dedication was what he was attempting to disturb now. “I could have rooted the rats out within the hour of mission's start.”

“Then it’s a good thing this task is mine and not yours,” you spat back, finally finding the will to sound truly mean. There was much you were uncertain of but your methods were a strong sense of pride and no one got to question them. “I’m sure the trafficking victims would do really well avoiding harm in the slaughter you’d start. They are known for being battle-ready after all; I’m sure they’re just playing victim right now so they can partake in a song-worthy escape and claim their glory.”

“You think I have no skill to guard and fight at the same time?”

“I think it’s not worth the risk to innocents just to feed one man’s insatiable ego,” you grumbled, spreading yourself out on your familiar and beloved blanket to begin this day’s long watch. You lined one eye with the one-of-a-kind scope of your rifle, taking comfort in settling into your power. “Better to wait until they show themselves and pick them off from miles away, letting them panic at the suddenness of death from a foe they’ll never see.”

Your memory never granted you Mihawk’s perspective on your first job together. You never figured out that he was hovering not from hatred of your perceived incompetence but an uncontrollable need to have you in his sight. He’d never had to contend with such an impulse before and found himself completely at the mercy of its whims. Garp was not happy with the freshly titled Warlord; he was meant to be helping eradicate the rebel legion that had taken this island over to ravage it for resources (humans included), not keep checking out their prized sniper like he’s a fifteen year old with his first female fixation.

~ ~ ~ ••• ~ ~ ~

“Surely I can be of much more entertainment to you in the present than in whatever foggy memories you have,” Mihawk said, successfully bringing you back to him.

“Yes you can,” you admitted with too much authenticity and affection for your tastes to just leave that flavor in the ari. After a moment of thought, you softly bumped your shoulder with his and added, “You’re practically a whole circus over there, how ever could I look away?”

You didn’t expect the long and tired sigh to deflate the man next to you, leaving his upper body draped on the bar. The sound seemed to have come from so deep in his lungs that it was born from his very soul.

“Please keep all talk of circuses and especially clowns to a minimum,” Mihawk pleaded into his forearms. He lifted head to look at you with one of the grouchiest and most sour faces you’d seen on him in a long time, before plopping it back into his arms. The whole thing was only made more endearing with the way the bar had pushed his hat askew.

“What’s with that look?” you laughed. “You usually save that one for Shanks.”

“I wish it was Shanks,” he grumbled petulantly. Your laughter always brightened him back up and he longed to turn and see the beauty of it on your face, but instead chose to keep to his brooding to prolong the sound just that much more.

 If it wouldn’t send him up the wall, you would have told him how much you adored when his brooding turned pouty. It sapped him of his persistent decorum and made him feel closer - more touchable. The slouch it brought out in him always had you valiantly fighting the urge to wrap his curved chest in a firm hug. It was unfair how perfectly suited for one he looked, resting his elbows on the bar and opening him and his luxury shirt and his warm skin up for your reaching hands and arms. You shook your head after a mourning sigh and took another sip of heady wine.

“I wish it was Shanks too. It’s been too long since I’ve seen him.” The soft spot you always showed for the Red Haired Pirates only threatened to drag Mihawk’s mood low again. It was amended slightly by your cute, happy gasp before you said, “We should go visit them soon! I’ve got a bigger chunk of free time after the next two months.”

Mihawk was always amazed by how easily tiny little gestures from you perked him back up and got his heart leaping. All you did was choose to say “we”. He wished and wished that it was always “we”, but he’d take what he could get. Even if it meant dealing with the usual treatment whenever you were both with Shanks and his crew.

~ ~ ~ ••• ~ ~ ~

Mihawk was not fond of the look Shanks was sending his way. It was all too smarmy, built on equal parts smugness and giddiness. Disgusting.

“You dog! When I tried to imagine what could have the unshakable Dracule Mihawk off his game I never would’ve guessed it was our dear Viper,” Shanks teased cheerily, bumping his shoulder into the rigid one of the swordsman next to him. Mihawk was affronted - he nearly spilled his drink from Shanks’ boorish behavior.

“Didn’t know she was yours,” Mihawk grumbled, attempting to sidestep Shanks’ prompts to have him speak his infatuation aloud.

Shanks was fighting poorly to hold in his laughter; Mihawk was absolutely sulking while he watched Yasopp teach you more gun spinning tricks. You and the sharpshooter were always all joy and play, easily finding common ground in marksmanship but with the added fun of showing your separate specializations to each other. Each bout of laughter from your direction brought another brooding line to Mihawk’s furrowed brow. This standoffish air was his habitual defense against the raw ache he’d been tending to since the two of you met.

Every time I try to play, I end up wounding her, he lamented. Why can I not earn your laughter?

~ ~ ~ ••• ~ ~ ~

Mihawk lightly shook himself of the memory. On instinct, he turned to look at you and found you already looking at him but not really seeing him. He quietly huffed through his nose at losing you again to your own mind. He decided to give you a moment before getting to the bottom of whatever it was that had you in your funk. Beyond selfishly wanting your rapt attention, he was worried for you. You were prone to take pause and think long, especially when in quiet company, but you seemed truly lost in your own mind, taken against your will.

Mihawk’s accurate read on you was more proof of the years tentatively building rapport with each other. That intimacy you shared, which lacked the intimacy you so craved, was what had you held hostage in one of the many examples of your entwining lives.

~ ~ ~ ••• ~ ~ ~

The quiet in the air was broken only by Mihawk’s calm breathing, his occasional quiet sips of today’s wine, and the gentle rustle of a turning page. Your own breathing was silent, having gone so long and smooth it was imperceptible due to an instinct trained in so no need of your body could get in the way of your shot. Luckily, your targets were always at such a great distance that Mihawk’s casual lounging would never alert them that they were being hunted.

“It’s been twelve hours since you’ve eaten,” Mihawk told you in a bored tone, eyes never leaving the pages of his book. You made to ignore him and continue your work, but he had never been able to stand your attention off of him for long. “Almost three since you’ve taken a sip of water.”

“Sorry, Mom, I’m a bit busy at the moment,” you mumbled back evenly. You had long lost the majority of your bitterness toward his nitpicking, instead just glad he was around and saying anything to you.

“If I was your mother, I would’ve commanded you to just let me take the target out in the first place so we could leave this boring island,” Mihawk complained.

“You really gonna take a swing at them from two miles off?” you asked, smiling as you imagined the chaos wrought from such an action. It would be a catastrophe, but it would also give you quite the show. Over your time knowing him, you’d seen Mihawk’s innate beauty and untouchable prowess countless times, but it was never enough to sate you.

“You’re not the only one who can hit a target from that distance,” Mihawk reminded you and you hoped you weren't imagining the tone of a smirk shaping his voice.

“Yeah, but I’m the only one of us who won’t cause a tsunami in the process,” you giggled at him. 

Again, your diligence robbed you of the chance to see the poignant longing overtaking Mihawk’s face when he smiled at you. He relished every step he’d gotten closer to being the source of your joy.

~ ~ ~ ••• ~ ~ ~

“You’ve disappeared again,” Mihawk complained after sending a haughty tut your way.

You offered an apologetic smile and were happy that he accepted it readily. All those memories, years of feeling, and liquid courage built a full storm inside of you until you knew you needed to allow yourself some time in the eye of it. Being surrounded by the roaring weather would be nerve-wracking but you hoped the calm at the center helped protect you from those shredding winds. You blew a heavy sigh over your drink, refusing to look from its dark, blooded tint when you asked, “Have you ever wondered what it would’ve been like if we were together?”

He didn’t answer right away. Usually Mihawk was a man who was quick with his words, as sure in speed and precision with their strike as he was with that of his sword. You respected that sureness and bold weaponizing of his thoughts, but you deeply appreciated that, with you, he would take the time to truly parse his words when he felt the need. It suited your nature better; your patience was as legendary as your ability to shoot the wings from a fly that was miles off from the end of your rifle. 

“You say that as if we’re too old to have options.” He spoke quite steadily, but you noticed his golden eyes flicking to you, ravenously seeking your reaction. You knew he was trying to cover at least a little; your equal skills in observation were a beauty and a bane to him. It was your favorite source of bickering, giving you many lines to smile at when you were stuck in lonely nights tracking targets.

“You are in your forties,” you teased. Again, you took a sip to think. You meant to find some words to match his characteristic tone (“Joints still working well enough to properly share a bed?”), but instead what came out was “though you’ve aged better than I imagined in our twenties”. You blamed that you had finally looked over and taken in his face, sculpted angles all alive and aglow in the torch-light. There was also that defined chest that he maddeningly always insisted on showing everyone. You probably would too, looking like that.

“You should know by now I always exceed expectation,” Mihawk said without a hint of gloating, just simply stating an absolute fact.

“There’s still many places I’ve yet to see that proven,” you responded, words coy and teasing but smile easy and affectionate. Mihawk would need much more intimacy before he admitted how that smile stalled his thoughts. You would need much more boldness before you let him know you noticed when you managed to halt his breath.

“Mihawk, my dearest adversary and cherished… friend,” you hesitated on the word, never having claimed him as such to his face before. He rewarded your bravery with a gentle bump of his knee against yours and with the bare fondness that began softening his stare. “We have been playing this game, dancing this dance, for decades now. Am I really meant to believe that one question changes everything?”

“The right question can,” he asserted immediately. He opened his mouth to continue, but for once you were the one striking quick with your words.

“You are a man who does not hesitate,” you accused, staring cuttingly into his focused gaze, not backing down at the way it became shielded. “If you want something you take it.”

“And?” Mihawk prompted, tone the most biting it's been all night.

“And,” you repeated. “And…”

You sighed in defeat and turned back to your drink, closing yourself away. He was more than smart enough to know where you were going with that, but he insisted on making you be the one to say it. You wouldn’t allow him to make you insult yourself, especially after you had ventured to bring up the tenuous topic in the first place. If he refused to argue or even acknowledge your conclusions, then you’d let your drink be the friend to assuage those old hurts. The echoed sigh to your side did little to move you from your new stake out with your wounds and your wine.

Mihawk pinched the bridge of his nose, resisting the urge to call you foolish so his own mind would stop branding him with that word. He had been ever vigilant of you throughout the years, not only in an effort to soak you in every moment he could, but also to latch on the moment he noticed you offering him a true opening. You had finally bared your throat to him and he had managed to fail at your final test to check that he would not stoop to bite - that he would only beg to kiss.

While taking his next sip of wine, Mihawk extended an olive branch in the form of a thigh pressed firmly into yours. He was barely able to keep in the frustrated growl that pressed at his chest when you shifted yourself away. You did turn your eyes to him out of curiosity, however, but he missed the look completely, too busy reassembling himself. It let you watch carefully as the flaming lights turned his hat’s extravagant feather amber in their glow when he lifted it off his head to place on the bartop. It let him run his fingers back through his thick black curls, trying to shake his disappointment off with the teasing of his strands.

He looked over at you and finally caught on to your observing. Mihawk let his regret pour over his face, even letting his lips twitch into a momentary, rueful smile. You replied with a tired smile of your own. In the end, it turned sweet and loving; a bad habit of yours with the swordsman. You pressed your thigh back to his.

In a rare show of humility, propelled by the heat of your thigh warming his and the sweet crinkles your smile brought to your eyes (Just for me, he thought with doting greed), Mihawk took your hand and bowed himself low to touch his forehead to your knuckles. His thumb soothed gentle circles into it while he stayed lowered to you for a few long breaths. He was eager to enjoy the feeling of your skin and the decadent scent of your perfume, strong now with the proximity of your wrist. You had chosen something sultry and heady with its deep notes of orchid and amber and wood, all calling to him until he acted with thought a millisecond behind instinct.

He flipped your hand over, slowly and gently, cradling it palm up in his large hand. Still stooped, he had to move scant inches to brush the tip of his nose across the thin skin on the inside of your wrist, savoring the pull of your perfume going deep into his lungs and leading his mind to a content haze. He sealed the small caress with a feathery brush of his lips over your pulse, wishing he could make himself press harder to feel your heart thump against his lips. He longed to know if it raced with the same jumping cantor as his.

When he sat back up he was met with a vision from his dreams. You had fully turned your face to him and it was lit with a deep flush made more rosy in the fire-cast light of the bar. No ambient chatter nor clinking cutlery could keep his ears from delighting in the hitch of your breath in and the contented sigh out. Another smile indulged him, this one easily crowned his favorite with its happy chuckle, pressing cheeks, and bare affection. 

“I am a man who takes what I want,” Mihawk confirmed your words delicately. He continued to hold your hand, now enfolding it in both of his. You felt bright tingling shooting from the contact and the press of your thighs. They made you twenty again, staring down the most handsome and insipidly arrogant man you’d ever met and cursing your heart for its clear choice. “I take what I want, not who I want. People aren’t for the taking, little viper.”

You laughed at the title, never feeling it sat quite right. You felt you wore it well at work only. The imagery it brought up of femme fatales and their hypnotizing looks and lethal wit made you feel like a young girl cloaked ill-fittingly in her mother’s best event wear, barely able to peek your head out of the wool coat dwarfing you. Mihawk noted your discomfort with the title throughout the years but never found the proper words to have you see that all who said it were reverent when they saw how well the word wrapped over you.

“What if-” again you hesitate. You scrunch your face in anger at your nature, but before Mihawk had time to bring a hand to your face and soothe it back into a smile, you force out the words. “What if I am for the taking?”

Mihawk’s thumbs stopped their massaging and you felt his thigh jump to tense against your own. Staring into his widening eyes and how they glowed so beautifully - too beautifully to be within your reach - you immediately wished you could suck the words right back into your lungs. You made it this far though, so you instead worried at your lip and clung your hand onto Mihawk’s stalled hold.

Finally, he unfroze.

“For the night only?” Mihawk probed, wanting answers but worrying about making you close off again.

“Do you only want the night?” You tossed back to him, unwilling to turn this propositioning into a confession of the long years you have built a deep and sturdy love for him, no matter your attempts to welcome others into its halls.

“What I want,” Mihawk said, gentle and deliberate in coloring his tone with humble honestly, “is to be what you want.”

You were taken aback by the confession, but you were even more awed by the look he was giving you. He was still slightly stooped, broad shoulders gently curved and bent towards you, pulled down under the need to lower himself below you but body still gravitating towards you with the magnetism he’s been weak to since you first crossed paths. Framed by those shoulders and his wild curls, Mihawk looked to you with the sadly tinted longing you had felt seize you in his presence all this time. While the furrow of his brow and glimmer of his eyes had your brain buzzing with more hope than you’d dare let it host before, your chest squeezed at the conflict you saw in him; you knew that torment in your very bones.

“You always have been,” you whispered on a trembling breath. Mihawk’s eyes went wild for a moment where his whole body tensed and you felt his urge to pounce on you steal the oxygen from the room. He thanked the gods for a majority of his life spent learning control and restraint, while he got himself in order and pressed the firm kiss he’d longed for to your wrist instead. 

“Come with me,” Mihawk commanded through lips still pressed to your skin, though it was the closest you’d heard him to begging in your entire life.

You let yourself partake in a longtime wish by moving your other hand to card your fingers back into his thick hair, happy to find that it was just as soft as you had imagined. Their trailing came back around to have your palm cup his jaw. He leaned into the touch, tickling your hand with the rub of his precise facial hair when he allowed himself one small nuzzle into your loving hold. That hand guided him up to meet your eyes so he could see the love you held for him finally displayed openly in all its abundance.

“Wherever you ask me to, I will go,” you promised.

~ ~ ~ ••• ✦✦✦ ••• ~ ~ ~

#mihawk x reader #dracule mihawk #opla mihawk x reader #opla mihawk #one piece #request #my writing #fem reader #x reader #one piece x reader #mihawk x you #mihawk x y/n #one piece fanfiction #mihawk fanfiction #opla

[owliellder]

Loving Takes Time

Leon Kennedy x afab Satyr Hybrid! Reader

MDNI 18+

Trigger Warning for the nature of the content

Description: Leon goes with Chris to just look at hybrids up for adoption, not really expecting to bring such a strange one home.

Warnings: Not proofread, Dub-Con, Unprotected Sex, Major Size Difference and 5-Year Age Difference, Leon is a PERVERT but he's still gentle 🫶

Tags: One-shot, Female Reader uses she/her, No use of y/n, Leon is 5'11", Reader is 4'0", Virgin Reader, Smut, Somnophilia, Picture Taking, Lactation, Fingering, Cunnilingus, Cowgirl Position, Belly Bulge, Dirty Talk, Ass Play

Words: 8.9k

Author's Note: Okay now I know this is a pretty strange/questionable one, but I've had this idea in my pocket for awhile and, once again, this is pure self-indulgence because if I could be ANYTHING in the world I would be a satyr 😭 They're the cutest little scampers!!!

Please forgive me for my transgressions 💔 I honestly felt so guilty writing this even though a lot of these tags reflect me (please don't hate me)

Cross-posted onto AO3

"I'm serious, we're just going to look!"

"Chris, 'just looking' always leads to either you or me getting something." Leon emphasized with hand quotes, giving Chris an incredulous look.

Both men were sitting in Chris' car that was parked in the relatively empty parking lot for the Hybrid Adoption Center. Leon had expressed *once* that he thought having a pet would be fun, but he knew a pet would be hard to manage with his field of work. He'd been partially aware of hybrids, yet he was less than convinced on the idea of having what was essentially a pet person.

"Look, I know. I get it-" "I don't wanna hear it. We're just here to look." Leon cut Chris off, waving his hand dismissively before opening the passenger door. "Even on the off chance I find one that I like, I'm in no way prepared to bring them home." He slid out of the car, Chris following suit. The older man followed Leon around the front of the car, shaking his head with a small chuckle. "Alright, alright.. Whatever you say, ya big grouch."

If Chris hadn't had to make an appointment to see the hybrids, then Leon would've found any excuse not to come. He did try, don't get him wrong, but Chris is notoriously persistent. A worm in his ear.

Once the two had made their way inside the adoption center, Chris confirmed his appointment to visit with the hybrids with a nice old lady who happily greeted them from the front desk. "There's still a couple in the back looking, but I'll let them know their time is up. Give me just a minute-" she quickly stood up and walked out from the front desk and into the back kennels.

Good. A little time to look around. Leon thought to himself with a small hum, moseying around the front room. He carefully looked at the various items; clothes, leashes, collars, bags of food, toys, treats, everything. He had a feeling that he was going to end up with some random puppy hybrid today, so it was worth it to look at all this ahead of time.

After only a few minutes, the old lady returned with the couple, nodding with a smile as they promised to come back once they'd made up their mind. Leon silently wishes Chris would give him the luxury of choice like they had.

"Leon! C'mon, let's go!" Chris happily exclaimed, only to be shushed by the lady. Apparently most of the hybrids are pretty sensitive to the sound as it echoes back in the kennels. At least the older man listened to someone here. "Lead the way." Leon held his hand up, letting Chris walk in front of him through the door to the kennels.

What they walked through were the puppy hybrids first, probably the most popular. And the noisiest. They were super excitable, which was undeniably cute, but at the end of the day Leon wasn't looking for a high-maintenance pet. He needed one with self-sustainability, and preferably one that wouldn't smother him either. The last thing he wants is to feel guilty every morning leaving for work. So a puppy hybrid? Out of the question.

Chris was quietly ooging out over every single hybrid they past, all the way through to the quieter kitty and bunny section. All cute, a cat hybrid seemed to be most aligned with what Leon wanted. None of them really caught his eye, though.

Near the end of their little walkthrough, Leon decided to look through the puppy kennels one last time, furrowing his brow when he noticed an empty kennel in the back. It being empty isn't what confused him, it was the kennel card still hanging on the chainlink fence that did it.

Making his way over, he carefully studied the card. No picture and a pretty vague description was provided. A... goat? They have a goat with the puppies back here? Reading on, he noticed that it said you were twenty-five years old, five years younger than he was. Guess you'd been there at the shelter for awhile too.

You weren't in the main kennel area, though. Probably hiding in the back. It was strange they had you with the puppies, they were so barky, but maybe they had no other place to put you? That's the most reasonable explanation.

Chris noticed Leon looking at the empty kennel with pursed lips, walking up behind him with crossed arms. "Out of everything here, you zero in on the kennel that has nothing in it?" Leon turned to face Chris, responding with a simple "... there's a goat in there" before going back to trying to see through the small square hole at the back of your kennel that led to the employee-only side, hoping to catch a glimpse of you.

"You're joking. A goat?" Chris raised an eyebrow, pushing Leon over to the side a bit so he could read your kennel card as well. "Aren't those for farms or something?"

"Yeah, I thought so too.." Leon hummed, crouching down next to Chris' legs as he continued to try and look through the hole. The old lady from the front desk soon made her way back to tell the two men that their time was almost up, only to find them studying your kennel.

"She's a shy one." She spoke up with a smile, alerting both men of her presence. "Hides when people come through the door, but she is easy to entice with a little snack?" The old lady noticed Leon seemed most interested and decided to bend down as best as she could to hand him a small peppermint candy.

"Okay..." Leon seemed a bit confused yet accepted the peppermint anyways, tossing it in his hand a couple times before slotting it through the fence. It didn't take long for you to appear, poking your head out through the square hole with your nose sniffing away. Perky goat ears and small curled horns, seemed standard enough.

It wasn't until you very cautiously stepped out, eyes on the three standing in front of her kennel that Leon seemed more interested than before. From your hips down you had fur, full blown goat legs that ended with the daintiest little hooves. He noticed your tail once it wagged a couple times at the scent of the peppermint. It made him crack a smile. Now that's interesting!

"Oh wow, she's..." Leon started to speak, his voice quickly trailing off as the suddenness must've started you. "Yes, she's a bit more 'animal' than the rest. The livestock usually are." The old lady seemed to know what he was going to say. It must be confusing to a lot of people.

"Small, too." Chris chimed in, arms still crossed as he looked down at you, watching you crouch low and stretch your arm to reach for the peppermint to avoid getting any closer to the chainlink fence.

"A pygmy goat. Regular goat hybrids tend to be a foot taller, but she's only about 4 feet. Very small little lady." The old lady chuckled softly, watching you scurry back through the hole to hide after successfully grabbing the peppermint. "I can take you into one of our meeting rooms if you'd like to get a better look?"

Before Leon could respond, Chris decided to just accept the offer for him, laughing as he watched the other man's face fall with annoyance. "Oh come on, don't be so sour." Chris firmly grabbed Leon's arm and hoisted him up from his crouched position before nudging his forward. "Lead the way, miss."

The colorfully painted walls of the meeting room were rather welcoming as both men wandered in. On the back wall sat a bench with some old cushions and blankets sitting on the seat. Chris took the liberty to sit down while Leon leaned against the wall next to it, grumbling quiet nonsense to himself.

The old lady excused herself to go retrieve you from your kennel, leaving Chris to poke fun at Leon for his sudden interest for only a moment before she returned with you on a lead.

She was right, you were small. "Alright, sugar, easy now." You were also very obviously nervous, hiding behind the elder woman's legs as she walked into the room with you. She gently pet the top of your head, fixing a few strands of your hair that got stuck wrapped around your tiny horns. "Just remember to move slow with her and you'll have the perfect little lap pet."

The old lady's voice was soft as she slowly made her way over to Chris, handing him the end of your lead as he nodded in agreement. You tried to follow the lady as she walked back out of the room only to be stopped by the lead, causing you to start whining with your ears pinned to the sides of your head as you stared at the now closed door.

"Hey," Leon was crouched down again, clicking his tongue to try and get your attention, "hey it's okay, she'll be back soon." You whipped your head around to look at him, freezing where you stood as you watched Leon reach a hand out. You sniffed the air a bit, staring both men down, almost as if you were sizing them up.

"Pretty cute, huh Leon?" Chris whispered. He was really laying it on thick and as much as Leon hated to admit it, you were growing on him. "Here, sit down on the bench and I'll give you her leash." As he spoke, Chris scooted to the side more to make room for the other man.

After carefully standing up to not scare you, he sat down on the bench next to Chris, taking the loop on the end of the lead as it was offered to him. Leon was a little nervous only because you were nervous, what if you bite?

It took some time, but with a lot of gentle coaxing and few extra peppermints provided by the old lady, you were soon standing in front of Leon's legs, chin resting on his knees as he scratched behind your left ear. During that time Leon had introduced himself to you, and though you didn't respond, your ears perking up to listen was enough confirmation that you heard him.

"You're breaking." Leon frowned at Chris' remark, eyes locked on your relaxed face. He could just barely see your fluffy tail wagging, moving his hand around to lift your head up as to scratch underneath your chin. The second he heard that happy little chitter from the back of your throat he knew it was over.

Chris gave a small 'oh' when he noticed Leon's smile forming. "You broke." The younger man only sighed in response, now using both hands to massage your furry ears. "I'll go get that lady." You jumped slightly when Chris suddenly stood, but Leon was quick to distract you with another peppermint.

The paperwork to take you home was relatively simple, thankfully. Leon took every recommendation from the elder lady about what items to buy, along with taking the blanket that was kept in your kennel. Something that already smelled like you would help ease you into a new home, or so he was told.

You were surprisingly easy on the ride home, both men staying quiet with the radio playing low just in case you panicked. Chris helped Leon set up all your stuff before bringing you inside, leading you over to where your blanket was laid out in the medium sized cage now set up in the corner of Leon's living room. You stayed in the cage as the men said their goodbyes, now left alone with Leon.

He gave you time to settle, only choosing to react to you once he noticed you quietly crawl out from the cage and begin surveying the living room from where he sat on the couch. "Hey there, little lamb."

His voice startled you slightly, making eye contact with him for a brief moment before offering him a shy smile. "Hi.." You whispered back in response, looking around as you slowly stepped over to Leon. He hadn't heard you speak until now, so this hopefully meant you were growing more relaxed around him.

"Quite the change." Leon hummed and you only nodded, looking off to the side as you rested your chin on one of his knees again. "It's a lot quieter here though, yeah?"

"Yeah..." Your voice was so sweet, even if just a whisper right now.

"Good." Leon cooed, reaching down to rub your ears. "How ya feeling?"

You shrugged, eyes still darting around the room even as they became lidded with the gentle caresses on your ears.

"What about a bath?" You looked back up into his eyes at the suggestion, eyebrows raising up. It had been awhile since you were given a bath..

Your reaction must've been enough as it prompted Leon to stand up, bending down a bit to hold onto your hand before leading you up the stairs and to the bathroom attached to his bedroom.

Luckily most of his living room and the bedrooms were carpeted, so he didn't have to worry about you slipping there. The tiled kitchen and bathrooms were another story as you immediately slipped with a yipe once stepping into the bathroom, furry legs shaking as you held yourself still as best as you could in an awkward half-splits position.

The man lifted your arm up above your head by your hand, lifting you up a bit in the process so you could reach the rug in front of the bathtub without anymore risk. "I gotcha, kiddo. Don't panic."

He kept one hand on the top of your head as a single to stay where you were while he turned the bathtub faucet on, plugging the drain once the water was warm enough. He was directed to buy a specific soap for you, so he used that to create some bubbles in the bath in hopes of giving you a little bit of fun.

You were carefully lifted up and into the water as soon as it was ready and the faucet was turned off, sighing softly at the warmth. You were always so anxious in the shelter which meant your muscles were always stiff. This was a nice change of pace.

"Wash off that shelter stink." Leon chuckled when you closed your eyes, sitting down on his legs before grabbing an empty cup to scoop and pour the soapy water over your head.

The attention you were receiving was unfamiliar, but definitely not unwelcome. His fingernails scratching your scalp was heavenly and you couldn't help but coo at the feeling.

"That good?" The man asked, smiling as you tilted your head towards his hands whenever he moved them.

"Mhm." You tilted your head back as he massaged his hands down your neck, using a clean washrag that he grabbed from underneath the sink not too long ago. He was able to get away with washing your whole upper body before asking you to stand up, offering his hand to you to use for balance. Along with the soap he bought for you, he also got a short bristled comb for your fur.

He kept his hand up for you, countering your pressure with a bit of his own so you felt steady while he began to lightly comb out the fur that started below your navel. What was once a dingy grey was now the cutest white fur on your belly and on the inside of your thighs, it was even on your butt and the underside of your tail.

While combing out your soggy fur, Leon had started to grow curious. All the other hybrids were just naked humans with a few specific animalistic features, yet your entire lower body was just goat.

He slowly spun you around at some point to comb your backside. "I need both my hands for this, love. Can you put your hands on the edge of the tub for me?"

You were reluctant to let go of his hand but agreed anyways, shakily placing your hands on the slippery white porcelain. It bent you over just slightly, which is what Leon needed to reach the rest of everything.

Unbeknownst to both you and Leon, your tail was quite sensitive at the base. He paused at the small gasp you let out when he grabbed your tail, giving you a worried look. "Are you okay? Did that hurt?"

"Uh-.. oh uh.. no it didn't hurt..." You weren't quite sure how to respond. That was a new feeling. It didn't hurt, though, that you knew.

Leon rationalized the reaction as him just startling you with the sudden grab. But then your tail wiggled faintly in his grasp as he slowly began to comb out your fur again, only leading him to wonder further.

He'd get the fur on the lower end of your legs last since you had to balance more for that, but right now he needed to worry about the thick patch of fur covering your genitals. Your little puckered hole was already on display for him which definitely didn't have him half-hard in his jeans since he had to lift your tail to comb the fur around it and you didn't seem too bothered by the exposure.

He let go of your tail, which stayed up, to pour another cup of water over your furry backside after noticing you begin to shiver, moving his hands lower to part the fur covering your pussy so he could comb that out as well. Unfortunately was a bit more tangled down there, probably due to the movement of your legs, and with it being denser fur, Leon had to take extra precaution when getting the tangles out.

He wasn't complaining though, your cute little pussy was definite eye-candy to the man. The bath was an easy excuse to touch it a bit, running the tip of his index finger through your folds a couple times before refocusing on detangling the fur around it. The little gasp you made mimicked the one you let out when he grabbed your tail. Interesting.

"Mr- uh.. Mr. Kennedy?" His eyes slowly drifted up to your face, noticing you were looking back at him from over your shoulder. "Don't worry, we're almost done, okay? You were pretty tangled down here, didn't wanna hurt ya."

Leon's words eased you some, finally letting your tail rest against your ass again as he moved down to the backs of your thighs. Not wanting to keep you in the cooling water much longer, the man hurried the rest of the bath up before rising you off with a detachable shower head.

It was amazing to him just how much water you held onto. He had to squeeze out the entirely of your legs, your tail, even your ears before he could wring out your hair. Seeing your perky nipples made it worth his while, however.

By now you were a shivering mess wrapped in two towels, standing on the rug as you would for sure slip on the tile when you were dripping water like this. Leon was so nice to you, setting up a small desktop space heater he had bought some years ago for you in front of your cage. He even carried you downstairs to the carpet.

The second the towels were taken from you, you immediately began to shake off the water, causing Leon to laugh.

"Hey, hey!" He held up the towels in front of his body as protection from your misting, laugh falling to a giggle when your tail vigorously wiggled. "Didn't know I took home a sprinkler system."

"Sorry-" You were still shaking off when you started to speak, so you waiting until you were done to continue talking. "Sorry, Mr. Kennedy. It's habit."

He folded the towel and draped it over his arm before patting your head. "Nah don't worry about it, sugar."

You leaned up into his touch, letting out a giggle of your own as he hooked a finger around the curl of your horn to move your head side to side playfully.

It was, again, surprising just how quickly you warmed up to the man. After you were mostly dried off from sitting in front of the small space heater, you started to follow Leon around as he moved about the house. Though you stopped on the edge of the carpet whenever he walked into the kitchen, he'll have to get some rugs for you, you were close behind him everywhere else.

Leon took a week off of work to allow you time to fully get to know your surroundings. He could more than afford the time off and it was nice to have a mini vacation away from work. Besides, you were fun to watch.

Just like he'd wanted, you were mostly self-sustainable, able to get your own food and go to the bathroom once he added rugs to tiled areas. He also bought a couple step-stools that had rails you could hold onto, one placed in the kitchen so you could move it about and the other in the master bathroom for you to reach the sink.

Leon did also buy a couple indoor cameras to keep an eye on you when he went back to work. You quickly learned where they were so you could ask him questions throughout the day seeing as he could talk through the camera back to you. You always made sure to ask if you could have a specific snack to eat, sometimes even telling him where you were going in the house if there wasn't a camera able to see you.

A few months in had lead to a very comfortable routine between you two; Leon would leave before you were awake, come home around 6-7pm, you would come running from wherever you were to hug his waist, he would make dinner while you two talked, the both of you would sit on the couch and watch a movie if it was a day he didn't come home exhausted, you and him would go to bed, and the cycle would repeat. At some point you even started sleeping in his bed with him, curling up towards the foot end of the bed next to his legs.

The weekends were spent going on walks to exercise your legs. You liked climbing and jumping around on big rocks, so hiking was always a good option. He also spent extra time cuddling you, massaging your little legs, playing with the split in your hooves, even experimenting with a gentle tug on your tail every so often. You always got so embarrassed with his teasing, it made him laugh.

When Leon had to leave for a mission, he would have Chris come and stay at his place. You didn't like this at first, it threw off the delicate balance between you and Leon, but just like with everything else, you settled after the first couple times he had to go on a mission. You were never told the nature of his missions, he didn't want you to worry or be upset if he never came back. This also kept you decently happy when he was away.

You really bonded with Leon and he bonded with you. How could he not? You were adorable.

As previously mentioned, you would always come running to greet him when he got home from work, which is why he was a little off-put not seeing you after getting home one day. It was the middle of the week and it had been a normal working day. You seemed alright on the cameras a few hours ago, having told him before he went on lunch that you were going to take a nap on his bed. It's been longer than your normal naps, so he was hoping you didn't get stuck somewhere and hurt yourself.

"I'm home, little lamb! Where are ya?" Leon yelled out, pausing to listen for any sign of movement before making his way back to his bedroom, but not before giving the guest bathroom and bedroom a quick glance on the way.

You had obviously been on his bed, given the sheets were all messed up, but where the hell were you?

It wasn't until he strode into his bathroom that he noticed his tall laundry basket was tipped over, some clothes pushed out the top which held the attached lid open a crack. He knelt down on one knee and knocked on the lid with his knuckle before lifting the lid up, eyes landing on you curled up in the bottom. Your eyes met his and you frowned, ears lowered as you turned your eyes down.

"Hey kiddo, what're ya doing in there?" Leon made sure his voice was anything but accusatory. "Did you get stuck?"

He glanced up a bit to make sure your horn wasn't hooked in one of the holes, and it wasn't.

"No..." You muttered, pulling one of his dirty shirts over your face. Oh now you were hiding from him, that won't do.

"C'mon, out with ya." His voice was gravelly as he lifted the lid up all the way and reached in, putting his hands under your armpits to pull you out along with the shirt you kept in front of your face. He held you so you were sitting on his forearm snuggled up to his stomach, reaching a hand up to pull the shirt away from you before tucking his other arm underneath your fluffy butt.

The position had you at eye level with him. He noticed your face was a little flushed, so he reached a hand back and pressed the back of it to your forehead. You didn't have a fever, that's good at least.

"You gonna tell me what's up?" Leon asked, scoffing playfully when you shook your head no and covered your face with your arms. "You'll be mad at me."

Leon's eyebrows furrowed with concern, carefully peeling your arms away from your face so you could look at him. "I would never get mad at you. You know that." He whispered, moving his hand around to support your back, thumbing rubbing soothingly at your skin.

It was true, he'd never gotten mad at you before. But this was different, you felt different. You were acting different and you didn't know why. You couldn't explain to him what was wrong even if you wanted to.

The dejected look that fell across your face as you averted your gaze was telling enough. He couldn't drag that information out of you, but he could hopefully make you feel better in the meantime.

Leon smiled and leaned forward to kiss your forehead, beginning the short walk back to the bed as he muttered against your skin. "Ya hungry? You've been back here awhile.."

He felt you nod, smiling as he gently placed you down on the bed. "Lay down and I'll bring you a snack. I'll even lay with you."

Your tummy fluttered at the idea of Leon cuddling with you, so you nodded again, much more enthusiastically this time. Your tail was wagging when he returned, quickly moving to press up to his side when he sat down next to you on the bed and handed you a sliced apple and some water.

It was little things like the laundry that Leon began to notice more and more over the next couple weeks. He would come home and have to go on what was essentially a hunt to find you because your cute ass was always hiding somewhere different; under his bed, in his closet, in the laundry basket again, and even right by the front door, somehow managing to pull down a couple of his jackets from the coat rack and make a little nest to curl up in.

Leon asked Chris about it one day at work while watching you pace around in the living room from one of the cameras, worried there was some lack of enrichment that he was somehow failing to provide. You were so happy before, but now you were right back to being the same anxious mess he saw at the adoption center all those months ago.

"You should call and ask that lady. She might know something." Chris shrugged, taking a sip from a can of soda. "I don't know much about goat hybrids, let alone females hybrids." He huffed out through his nose with a smile, but Leon only tightened his lips in response. Chris did have a point though, it could be something to do with your specific breed and gender.

Once Leon got home, he quickly found you with some of his dirty clothes under the bed again before giving the old lady at the adoption center at the call. The one thought he was avoiding was the possibility of you being sick to some degree. You were part prey animal, and those types of animals tended to hide their sickness. He learned this from trying to research what was wrong with you himself.

He stepped out of the bedroom and closed the door behind himself. You would sometimes skitter off to hide somewhere else after he'd already found you once that day, so he didn't want you disappearing while he was on the phone.

It was hard for Leon to explain over the phone what you'd been doing, but once he mentioned you making a nest out of his jackets did the lady know what the problem was. You were going into heat soon.

"Heat? The hell is that?" He scratched the side of his face, turning to look at the bedroom door to make sure it was still closed. Having that whole ordeal explained to him had him running a slow hand down the entirety of his face. Guess they can kick in for farm hybrids anywhere between 21-28 years old.

Of course. You were a girl. He really should've known all this when he first got you.

He had to help you manage it too. From what the lady said, you'd be a complete mess soon since you'd already been acting strange like that for a couple weeks now.

However, Leon wasn't completely opposed to the idea of *helping* you. In fact, he was a bit excited at the prospect of getting to explore you a bit more intimately. As much as he didn't want to admit it, he liked you. Liked you. Always so cute bounding around the house, snuggling up to him at night, giving him little pecks on his cheek when he picked you up. You were so hard to resist.

Not to mention that he couldn't keep his hands from straying whenever he helped you bathe. He would spread your pussy lips apart and use the excuse of making sure everything was clean to get a better view. Your little ass wasn't any safer with his thumb rubbing circles on it whenever he had to hold your tail up. You made the most precious noises when he touched you.

Alright, he could do this. Helping you with your heat seemed easy enough. All he needed to do was just take a week or two off of work again to tend to your needs. He definitely wasn't going to turn down getting to spend extra time with you. His little lamb.

About three days into his time off from work was when your heat fully started to kick in. You woke up in the middle of the panting, sweating, and restless, helping yourself out of the bed and down the stairs into the kitchen to drink some water. It helped for a short period, but when you woke up again, you were laying in a small wet puddle on the bed.

You started to cry because you thought you'd wet yourself, waking Leon in the process. He seemed confused, trying to make out what you were babbling about until you pulled the blankets back. Seeing the puddle made you cry more and Leon had to reassure you multiple times that everything was alright.

He sat up with his back up against the headboard and pulled you onto his lap, letting you weep into his bare chest. You were clearly a bit more emotional than usual, but Leon didn't mind, especially when he could feel a small wet spot forming on his boxers from you. He just whispered sweet nothings to you while rubbing your back, silently relishing in the feeling of your wet little cunt pressing on him.

Leon kept you up on his chest even once you calmed down, explaining your predicament the same way to you as the old lady had explained to him over the phone, faintly ghosting his fingers over the wet fur surrounding your crotch all the while.

He occasionally moved his hand around to pet and squeeze your fluffy ass cheeks, rub his thumb over your asshole again, or to stroke your tail, gauging your reactions. More emotional, even more sensitive.

You sighed and gasped at every touch, eyes having closed at some point during his explanation. Leon seemed to understand what was going on with you, so you didn't see much reason to worry. He'd make sure you were okay.

"You just need a little extra loving this week. That seem okay?" Leon hummed when you nodded, bringing his hand back down to part the fur covering your pussy. "Good. Who doesn't want some extra love, right?"

You jolted a bit when his index finger began to run up and down through your dripping folds, only relaxing again once his other hand came up to rub between your shoulder blades. "Easy, girl, easy..."

Your legs naturally parted further for him, tail staying lifted. "That feel good, little lamb?" Leon whispered, adding his middle finger to continue stroking your folds when you gave him a small moan in response.

"Yeah it does.. yeah..." A groan rumbled deep in Leon's chest, rubbing the tips of his fingers over your slit as slick consistently leaked from it. It had already started to drip down past your clit, saturating the fur on your stomach before eventually dripping onto his boxers, right above his bulge. It was wet from before, but feeling the new spot form was driving him insane.

Despite not being able to see it, the man spread your outer lips apart. He groaned when you whined and lifted your hips slightly, eyebrows furrowing again when your tail wagged a couple times.

"You like that?" Leon breathed out a low chuckle as he moved his fingers down to stroke your wet clit. "Like when Mr. Kennedy plays with you like this?"

"I-oh-.. yes, sir.." Leon paused to pull you up a bit further on his chest to kiss you, fingers quickly returning to massage your clit. You didn't quite know how to kiss back, so you just did your best to follow his lead. The kisses on your lips made you feel warmer than you already were.

His free hand had moved down your back to your tail, grabbing it firmly to so he could lightly tug on it. Your moans only increased in volume at that, panting with your lips still pressed on his. You were steadily leaking now, the combined feeling of his fingers on your clit while he stroked your tail causing you to gush. His fingers and the top of his palm were completely drenched.

"Such a good girl~..." Leon sighed, moving his fingers off your clit so he could pet the fur around your pussy. "You're so soft here, baby.."

You'd been blushing already, but his sweet words were only making it worse. Your pussy was aching now, hips jerking back subconsciously for his touch.

"Hmm? What is it, sugar?" He knew what you wanted, he just wanted to hear your delicate voice again. "P-please-.. keep playing with me, Mr. Kennedy..."

Oh, you were just darling. "Atta girl, using your big girl words.." Leon smirked, moving his index and middle fingers back to rub your clit. Your head was growing foggy now, face buried in the juncture of his neck to breathe in his scent. It was so strong there, musky and warm, reminded you of cinnamon.

He dipped his middle finger into your wet hole down to the first knuckle accompanied by a particularly rough tug to your tail, pulling a squeal from you in the process.

"I know, oh, I know~..." Leon cooed quietly into your right ear. His hot breath tickled, making your ear flick forward. "You're so tight, baby.. Squeezing around my big finger..."

He slowly sunk his finger into you further. Your legs were trembling on either side of his waist, small hands grasping onto his pecs as breathy moans and whimpers poured from your lips. Once he curled his finger, you came, whole body shaking as you let out a cry.

Such a pretty sight for Leon, watching you drool onto his chest, all dumb from just a finger. He could get used to this.

With lots of encouraging words and caresses to your tail he was eventually able to get two fingers into you, pumping them in and out of you, curling them every so often just to hear you whine for him.

The fullness was so new to you, and with the man filling your senses combined with the sensitivity your heat provided, it wasn't long before you were clamping down on his fingers again, cumming for the second time with a weak gasp that fell into whimpering and panting.

"There ya go.. easy, girl.." Leon moved his hand away from your tail to push your ear closer to his lips, kissing the soft inside as he whispered into it. He carefully removed his fingers from you to bring into his mouth, swapping his hands so the other was now flat on your lower back. Your slick tasted so sweet, like honey on his tongue. He'll be tasting more of that later.

He planted one last kiss to your lips before shifting down on the bed so he could lay back down, arms tightly wrapped around you as he rolled onto his side.

You fell asleep in no time, the sound of Leon's steady heartbeat soothing your fast one back to a regular pace.

You must've been feeling the effects of your heat come the next morning, considering you slept until the late afternoon. You just seemed more fatigued, totally understandable.

Before you'd woken up, Leon managed to do a bit more research of his own. He wanted to stay informed on how this whole heat thing would go, taking note of the various effects; hypersensitivity to touch and sound, fatigue, cravings, increased libido, lactation?, clinginess, flushed skin, and that excessive slick would last throughout the whole heat. Everything else would come and go in waves, apparently.

He was sitting on the couch, phone in his hands when you emerged from the bedroom, rubbing at your eyes with a small yawn. Without saying a word, you walked over and stood in front of his legs up. Leon could only smile as you crawled up onto his lap, pushing yourself underneath his arms.

You had your back flush against him, leaning your head back so it was resting between his pecs. Thankfully your horns were short enough that they didn't poke him.

Your furry legs were parted around his, arms hanging loosely at your sides with your tail tucked beneath your butt. There, you fell asleep again.

The man placed one hand on your leg to play with your soft fur, turning his attention back to his phone as he continued to read. Soon he was looking down at you, an idea in mind. He shook your leg a bit to see if you would wake up and you didn't even stir. Fantastic.

Smirking, Leon opened the camera on his phone and flipped it so it was front-facing. He'd gotten pictures of you in the past, usually more candid photos of you cuddling with him, but nothing like this.

He moved his hand from your leg to your crotch, parting the fur with his fingers to reveal your still dripping pussy. It was always nice to look at the cute pictures he'd gotten of you when he's at work or on a mission, so what's the harm in getting just a few more? He already knew he'd be missing this when he had to return to work.

Leon made sure to get the wet spot you were forming on his sweatpants in view, taking some pictures with and without his fingers caressing your glistening folds. He brought the phone up to give the photos a good look, smirk widening before bringing it back down to focus more on your breasts.

Lactation. They did seem a bit more pronounced than usual. Taking a simple video wouldn't hurt, right?

Once pressing record, Leon rubbed his free hand across your chest, gently massaging one breast at a time. He circled his index finger around one of your nipples before giving it an experimental pinch, his breath hitching when couple droplets of milk beaded from it. Oh wow.

He massaged the one breast a bit more firmly before moving to pinch your nipple again, groaning to himself as a few more droplets beaded and collected on his thumb.

Leon placed the phone down after ending the recording, hurriedly placing both hands on your breasts as he began to massage both of them a bit more firmly. Pinching both your nipples made you whimper in your sleep, though he barely registered it when his eyes were flooded with the sight of more milk droplets falling onto his fingers.

Jesus, thats amazing. He swallowed dryly, only continuing for a minute more until deciding to give your probably very sensitive breasts a break and let you sleep.

You woke up when Leon had to move you off of his lap, whining as you watched him stand up from the couch. "I'll be right back, little lamb." He shushed you, placing you on your side with your head on one of the plush decorative pillows. He needed to take care of his hard-on before he exploded and he can't really do that with your hot and wet little cunt pressing right on it.

The rest of the day was spent with Leon holding you up with one arm while he did chores, your head on his shoulder. You whined and complained and cried until he picked you up, wanting to stay as close as possible to the man.

Something about your heat must kick in at night because you were more awake after the sun had set, clinging to Leon like your life depended on it. You didn't understand, but something in you ached, you *needed* him. It was hard convey, so you just went back to whining and complaining as he got ready for bed.

"Baby, you gotta let me brush my teeth I-" he was cut off when you suddenly fondled him through his sweatpants. His scent was strong down here, you really liked it. The man spit into the sink before reaching down to place a firm hand atop your head. "Hey hey, careful with the equipment."

You giggled and wrapped your arms around his waist, the side of your face squished against his stomach with your tail wagging happily. He hummed and finished brushing his teeth. "Alright, go and hop in bed. Go on." He shooed you away with a playful grin, giving your ass a gentle smack when you turned to trot off.

Reaching around, you rubbed over the spot where he smacked your butt, looking over your shoulder at him for a brief moment. It made your tummy flutter like before.

You crawled into the bed and watched the bathroom door until Leon walked out, smile immediately returning as he walked over to his side of the bed. He got in next to you and sighed, laying with his arms behind his head. His eyes were closed but he could just tell you were leaning over him.

"What's up, love?" Leon hummed, peaking one eye open to look up at you. You weren't tired, you were achey. You can't sleep when you were achey. "D'ya need somethin'?"

You thought for a moment before nodding. "Yes-.. yeah.."

"Whaddya need then? You know how to use your words." Leon closed the one eye, a smug smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he felt you move to sit on his chest.

"Will you-... uh.. will you play with me again, Mr. Kennedy?" He could feel your tail wagging, soft white fur rubbing side to side across his skin.

He raised an eyebrow, yet his eyes remained closed. "Ask nicely, sugar."

You groaned, eyebrows furrowing with frustration. You wanted him to look at you but his eyes were closed, now he was making you repeat yourself. So mean. "Please, Mr. Kennedy..."

"Please what?" Leon's laugh only frustrated you more, tears threatening to spill from your eyes as you struggled to think. "Please play with me!"

Noticing your shaky tone, Leon opened one eye again, smirk falling to a kind smile. "Okay, alright, don't get your panties in a bunch."

"...my what?" You sniffled, blinking away your tears as he sat up onto his elbows. "Don't worry about it. Can you hop off for just a second, sweets?"

You nodded and slid off to the right, watching him shimmy off his sweatpants, left fully naked with a semi. He rolled onto his side and moved closer to you, pressing his hand to your chest to gently guide you to lay down.

"I'll play with ya real nice.." He grunted, watching your legs part for him as he slotted his head between them. He was craving the taste of that honey-sweet slick on his tongue, and after placing his left hand around the inside of your thigh, right hand spreading you open, he dove in.

Not wanting to waste a single second, he began to greedily lap at your folds, moaning in tandem with you as he swallowed every drop of slick you were oh so graciously offering to him. Your soft fur tickling his face was the last thing he was thinking about, tongue tracing every perfect inch of your cunt.

Your moans and gasps were music to his ears, chuckling into your cunt as he looked up to your face. So blissed out already. You'd be the death of him, though he'd die a happy man.

Leon wrapped his lips around your clit, swirling his tongue around it as he gently sucked. You were wiggling a lot, you needed to stay still.

Pulling away with a growl, he sat up on his knees and grabbed both your ankles with his hand. He lifted them up so your ass was lifted slightly from the bed before diving back down into your cunt. That was way better.

While his right hand held your legs up, his left hand wandered down to your puckered hole, occasionally dipping the tip of his thumb into it following a few circles around the rim. It was already wet enough from the mixture of your slick and his spit. Plus, it was right there just waiting to be toyed with.

His cock was throbbing for you, desperate to feel your tight, silky walls wrapped around him. He pulled his mouth away from you after a minute with a gravelly laugh, taking a moment to enjoy the sight of you with your legs held up, crossed at the ankles, along with your weeping pussy.

He was smart enough to leave his phone close by on the nightstand, so he was able to reach over and grab it without jostling you too much. This picture was going in his wallet, that's for sure.

"Mr. Kennedyyy..." you whined, weakly attempting to pull your legs from his grasp.

"Relax," Leon tapped the bottom of your hooves with his thumb before slowly letting your legs fall back to the bed. "Mr. Kennedy just wanted to savor the view."

He sat up against the headboard, patting his lap with a smile. It took you a second to recollect yourself enough to crawl onto him, Leon helping you by offering a hand for you to balance with.

"Perfect, riiiight there.." He sat you just right so his dick settled into the part in your fur that he made, then placing his hands on the point of your hips to begin leisurely grinding you down on him. The wet shlick from his dick gliding through your folds was absolutely divine. He had to keep himself from plunging into you.

"Pl-ease, sir..." you brokenly whined as his tip caught your clit, causing you to jerk your hips forward.

"No need to beg, my lamb. You'll get just what you need.." He moved one hand to grab your bicep to help keep you lifted up as he positioned his cock at your hole. "I'll be so careful, as gentle as I can..."

Your face contorted in a silent cry as he began to push you down onto him, rubbing soothing circles into your hips. "You're doing so well, sugar" He grunted, "my big, strong girl~.."

Leon was so careful, just like he promised you, giving you all the time you needed to adjust and stretch to his length. Your eyes were shut tight, ears pressed back against your head as you whimpered. He made you feel so full, it really did satisfied that achey feeling you had.

"God that's so hot.." The man whispered to himself, grabbing his phone again to take a picture of the obvious bulge in your tummy from his cock, putting his hand next to it for reference. He moved his hand over it and pressed gently, listening to your drawn out whimper.

"Oh I bet you're- fuck- just loving that, huh baby girl?" Leon growled at the feeling of your walls wrapped around him, slick started to leak down his shaft and to his balls.

Wanting to give you a bit more time, he started to grind you on him again. "Gah- noo, too- ngh~.. too full, Mr. Kennedy.."

"Yeah?" Leon purred, swiping his tongue across his bottom lip as he watched your face. "Too full?"

You nodded with a whimpered out "yes", hands clenched in fists at your sides, unsure of where to put them.

"But you're making Mr. Kennedy feel so good, sweetheart.." He barely lifted you up before letting you slide back down to the base, hands hovering close to your waist.

"...yeah..?" You panted, body starting tremble with adrenaline, nipples perked up. "Soooo good.." Leon responded, hunching over to pull one of your nipples into his mouth. Your hands flew to his arms, digging your nails into his skin as you gasped.

The man growled again at the taste of what little milk he got, furrowing his brow as he started to lift you up and down on his cock by holding onto your sides.

Your pussy squelched and dripped around his cock, dragging moan after moan from your beautiful lips. All he could do was focus on bouncing you now, leaning back to watch his cock disappear into your fur-covered cunt each time he dropped you down onto it.

He almost laughed when he saw your ears bouncing with you, but he didn't want to make you feel embarrassed. No, he'll save that for later when he shows Chris the pretty pictures and video he took of you.

Your walls quivered and clenched around him, tip bumping into your cervix, leaving him grunting as he neared his own high. Pulling out was going to be a difficult task, you cradled his cock so well.

He couldn't get you pregnant, right? No, surely not.

"Mr- ah! Mr. Kennedy..!" Your voice warbled, crying out for him as your tensed up with your orgasm.

"Oh shit.. yeah, yeahhhhh~..." Leon let out a strained groan as you tightened around him like a vice, rutting into you a few more times before spilling his load.

Most of it spilled out and around his cock since he continued to bounce you shallowly on it for a few seconds longer.

You breathed heavily as you tried to catch your breath, leaning forward to fall against his chest with a whine.

The two of you sat for awhile, Leon just soaking in the euphoria of it all. Soon, he delicately lifted you off and laid you next to him, brushing a couple stray strands of hair from your sweaty forehead.

He cleaned you off, but not before getting one last picture of your spent cunt dripping with his cum.

The man'll wait until tomorrow morning to get you in the shower with him. For now, he'll just pull you closer to him, pet the back of your hair while you sleep.

There's still about a week more of this heat of yours, then he'll have to head back to work. He'd stay home forever if it meant taking care of you.

Thinking back, that old lady from the adoption center was right. You did end up being the perfect little lap pet.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x reader #resident evil #leon s kennedy x you #leon scott kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy smut #leon s kennedy smut #leon kennedy fanfic #leon x reader #re4 leon #leon smut #leon s kennedy x fem!reader #resident evil leon #leon kennedy x reader smut #leon kennedy x fem reader #leon kennedy fic #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x f!reader #leon s kennedy x y/n

[kakujis]

if i could just get my hands on you.

feat: bonten!mikey, kokonoi, kakucho, + sanzu. i really wanted to put the haitani brothers in but i cant think of anything rn ;-;. afab! reader x bonten.

a/n: this probably, most definitely ooc bc lets be real they would most likely not hold back(unless ur kakucho) but this was self indulgent for me!

warnings: i say “maybe” a lot. face-fucking (kokonoi), voyeurism + panty!! stealer!! kakucho my beloved!!!, a bit of angst, drug mentions/usage(sanzu), squint and there’s some yan, oral f! receiving(sanzu). minors dni.

manjiro sano always gets what he wants. it doesn't matter if it's something as simple as taiyaki or becoming the most notorious gang in japan. every request is met with a "yes, sir.” but for some reason, mikey, just can't have you. his pretty receptionist. he’s not entirely sure why he doesn't just order you into his room, bullying his way into your tight cunt and fucking you dumb. maybe it's the way you always smile at him, even as he's just ordered sanzu to kill the three rival gang grunts begging for their lives off-site. or maybe it's the way you make him his tea every morning, doing your best to make sure its just right and none of it spills. you're so sweet to him and yet every time he touches you, he feels the way you stiffen. the way you begin to tremble when he gets too close. he thinks you shine brighter than the sunlight that peeks through the curtains onto his desk. perhaps, there is still a piece of the old mikey left, because he just can't bring himself to hurt you. so instead, he fucks the next whore that sanzu throws at him wishing it was you.

due to his massive amount of wealth, kokonoi hajime, loves to spoil his girls. anything they want, he gives, as long as he gets what he wants in return. which means face-fucking them until he shoots his load down each one of their throats, throwing them away until he calls them up again with another tempting wad of cash and the promise of luxury. you walked in on him once, trying to fulfill one of mikey’s orders. a small gasp left your mouth once you realized what was happening. you shut your eyes, immediately apologizing and slamming the door. after that incident kokonoi wanted you to see him again. he’d think about it every time he shoved his cock deep into one of his playthings. would you run away again? probably. or maybe, you'd join in and beg him to take you next. he'd like that, he thinks, as he slams into one of his girls, a bit frustrated that her moans and wails were doing nothing for him. ah, if only he had the guts to ask mikey if he'd want a new receptionist.

kakucho is in love with you. every morning, he waits to hear you greet him. and every night, he waits for you to take his blood stained coat off and welcome him home. unfortunately for him, you do that for all of them. bonten's little maid, who runs around the base tending to each and every one of them. sure, they have the money and the access to all the top doctors in japan, but most of the time you're enough. as japan's top gang, no one really ever stands a chance against them in a fight and anyone who does is promptly shot. he feels so guilty, stroking himself with your used undies, outside your bathroom door. he drinks in your sweet voice as you hum a familiar tune, his little songbird. he desperately wishes he could slip inside your shower, your back arching against his chest, fingers sinking deep into your cunt. he imagines kissing you to swallow your moans, hand coated in your slick as he fucks you thoroughly on his fingers. ever so gently, he’d ease you onto his aching dick, feeling the flutter of your plush walls. he thinks you’d look so beautiful, more than usual, being bounced on his cock, water running down your body. he climaxes quickly once he hears the water switch off, stuffing your soiled panties into his pocket. he hopes you won’t notice this is your third missing pair.

sanzu haruchiyo needs you to need him. its only fair considering how badly he needs you. when he finds himself slipping from reality or sobering up from a bad trip, your voice always calls out to him. “sanzu… sanzu?” he blinks, your fuzzy form bringing some much needed company. as he continues sobering up, you always bring a cup of water to his lips, coaxing him to drink. it’s mind numbingly sweet the way you swipe at his scarred mouth when some liquid drips. you always dim the lights as well, not wanting to overstimulate him as he sobers up. if he wasn’t so fucked up he’d probably pounce on you then, ripping your clothes to shreds as he dives face first into your pussy. sanzu wants to feel the tug on his pink locks, envisioning how you would desperately grind on his face inching closer and closer to completion. what he would give to taste you just one time, to be completely soaked in your juices. he could probably eat you out for hours, licking and sucking on your poor puffy clit. maybe he’d tongue fuck you next, ignoring your pleas and overstimming you until you’re a trembling mess on his bed. but those are just dreams and by the time he’s grounded in reality, you’re gone, back to mikey’s office.

#tokyo revengers #tokrev #tokyo revengers smut #manjiro sano smut #sanzu haruchiyo smut #kokonoi hajime smut #kakucho hitto smut #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers x you #pibby writing #kakucho x reader #manjiro sano x reader #sanzu haruchiyo x reader #kokonoi hajime x reader

[comphy-and-cozy]

oh I have a marty thot for sure! I’ve been thinking about riding his thigh while he sits back and just watches, kinda unimpressed at the show and telling you “you can do better than that, can’t you?”

Earn It

Pairing: Matt Martin x sugar baby!reader (f)

Universe: sugar daddy Marty

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: Smut (18+ ONLY). Sugar daddy/baby dynamic, lap dance, semi-public/risque sex, unprotected sex, hair pulling, choking, mild degradation, creampie, a little bit of cum play (lmao jfc).

Fridays are supposed to be celebratory; the end of the week, welcoming in a few days off to relax and reset. What they’re not supposed to be are stressful, non-stop, chaotic. 

Yet here you are, already thinking about the large glass of wine you’re going to pour yourself when you get home; the only decision you’re planning to make for the rest of the night is red or white. 

Setting your keys into the bowl on the table beside the door, you eye the pristine leather sneakers next to your shoe rack, but make no move to greet the person you already know is waiting on the couch. You knew you’d regret having the extra key made for him, that he’d show up unannounced like a poorly-timed pimple, but it’s not like you really could say no—not when you consider that he all but pays your rent. 

When you round the corner, bag left on the quartz countertop (an upgrade he insisted on when you were signing your new lease), you finally offer him your attention.

“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” he muses, glancing up from where he’s scrolling on his phone. You do your best to mask the shiver that runs down your spine when his eyes lock with yours. Based on the smirk that quirks up on his face, you’d wager a guess that you did a poor job of it.

“Hi, Matty,” you say. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“You need a new dress for the charity gala,” he drawls. 

“I do, do I?”

He ignores your attitude, standing up to walk over to the island and setting the invitation in front of you. You glance it over, admiring the thick, black cardstock and gold foil detailing the casino-themed event taking place at UBS Arena next month.

“Black tie attire,” you hum. “I don’t have anything that’s black-tie appropriate.”

“That’s why you need a new dress.”

“And that’s why you’re here right now, sitting on my couch after a day from hell, full of back-to-back meetings, am I correct?”

Matt smiles again. “Already have a bubble bath going for you, my little brat. I’ll be here tomorrow at 9 to pick you up.”

You feel a little guilty for the sass, smiling bashfully at him as he plants a sweet kiss on your cheekbone on his way to the door. “Lock up behind me, darlin’.”

Goddamn him. Always knowing exactly how to charm you to get you to bend to his every will—but not without giving him the kind of attitude that makes his dick hard. A fair tradeoff, in your opinion.

That’s why you work, why your dynamic makes your relationship feel so smooth and seamless and… perfect. Except the part where he’s paying you to fuck him.

Either way, it’s how you find yourself walking along Fifth Avenue, following Matt as he leads you into stores with price tags that intimidate you so much, your cheeks get hot. He lets you browse on your own, warming you up a bit, picking out a few items for work along with a new Yves Saint Laurent purse.

Purchase after purchase. Item after item. The ease with which Matt whipped out his thick, black credit card—you know, the heavy ones that just feel luxurious—almost physically pains you as you try to do the mental math of what he’d spent today.

Finally, you follow him to the dresswear section of Bergdorf Goodman’s, admiring the ease with which he carries the multiple bags in his large hands. You feel well and truly spoiled, thinking to yourself that the dark green lace set he purchased at Fleur du Mal will come in handy later when it comes time to show your gratitude.

“This dress,” he murmurs against your temple, pressing an affectionate kiss to your skin as the fitting room attendant readies a room for you. “I want everyone there to imagine fucking you out of it.”

At this point, you’re used to his blunt and sometimes crude nature, but that doesn’t stop your skin from heating at his crass words. You can’t deny the warmth that radiates between your legs, though, at the thought of him showing you off, claiming you as his, publicly. And, well, how are you supposed to say no to him buying you a dress that’s worth more than your groceries for the month?

The selection is enormous, and you find yourself overwhelmed by the options—lace, chiffon, silk, crepe—all of it doesn’t mean much to you, so you rely on your stylist to select a few options that complement your body type. Matt sits quietly in the corner of the fitting room, watching you try on dress after dress, making barely any comment other than an occasional hum.

When the stylist leaves you to contemplate your options, you glance over your reflection, at the Alex Perry gown that stares back at you. It’s the first dress that feels right, and you can’t help the feeling of excited anticipation that fills your chest when you think about wearing it beside Matt at the gala. Maybe he’d wear that delicious gray suit that you like, the one you almost stained permanently humping his thigh like a fucking dog in heat.

“Is this the one you want?”

You do a final spin in the mirror, checking the various angles and standing on your toes to imitate your height in heels. It’ll need to be altered a bit, but you’re pleased with the way it fits your body and, more importantly, the way it makes you feel luxurious. With your nod, Matt leans forward and glances at the price tag hanging out of the back. His eyes flick to yours in the mirror, and you stew in discomfort for the few seconds before he’s sitting back, apparently approving of the price.

A wide smile forms on your face, feeling a bit like a child on Christmas morning at your excitement. You like Matt for far more than his wallet, but you can’t deny that it feels nice to be spoiled by him, to feel lavished by his gifts and special treatment. 

“Think it’s time for you to say thank you, don’t you?” 

Matt’s low purr snaps you out of your thoughts, eyes focusing back on the navy silk material that’s hugging your body. The corset bodice keeps you tucked in, accentuating the curve of your breasts, fabric draped across your middle and fastened in place with a large, glittering piece. But the real attention-grabber is the slit on the left side that goes up to your hip, revealing almost your entire leg.

You cast a glance at him in the mirror, a flutter in your chest when you see the way his eyes rake in your reflection. He hums, and though he told you it was your decision, you’re pleased that he likes what he sees.

“Thank you, Matty,” you say, batting your eyelashes at him. You lean forward and press a kiss against his lips, warm and soft—the kind you could fall into with ease. He smiles, crooked and patronizing as he tsks.

“Oh, sweetheart, you know that isn’t good enough. Look at all these bags—all for you. I think I deserve more gratitude than that, hm?”

The hidden meaning of his velvet words are enough to make you shiver, your heart chilling as you realize what he wants. His eyes glitter as he watches you, sees the recognition on your face and the hitch in your throat. 

Your voice is hoarse as you whisper, “Here?”

Matt blinks, lazily, with a raised eyebrow, like he’s challenging to you to deny him. Of course you can’t, and he knows it. He leans back on the bench, his back resting against the wall and his legs spread comfortably. It’s a silent invitation, one you can’t refuse, and you find yourself moving to sit in his lap with a shaky gulp.

His hands weave their way to your hips, warm through the material of your jeans. “Good girl.”

With just the right amount of pressure, he encourages you to move your waist, swaying your hips as your ass brushes against his groin. He’s half hard, the bulge firm against you as you set a rhythm, listening for any other customers entering the dressing rooms nearby. The classy elevator music hums softly through the speakers while the silk covering your ass glides against his slacks in a filthy narrative.

A low hum of approval sounds from Matt’s chest, eyes glued to the way you work your hips. It isn’t long before you’re glancing behind you, meeting his eyes as he regards you with his easy, lazy gaze. Beneath the firm press of your ass, you can feel him hardening as the tick of your heartbeat increases in your throat. His signature smirk slides its way onto his face, smug, soaking in the fact that he’s got you wrapped around his finger, willing to do practically anything he asks you.

It isn’t long before he’s stiff, solid beneath you, and you feel an involuntary throb at the size of him. Every moment, you remain vigilant, ears perked for voices—or worse, the sound of someone’s gasp. It reflects in your movements, not lackluster but certainly not to your usual level of enthusiasm. There’s something about him when he’s like this—cocky confidence rolling off of him in waves, his gaze heating your skin—that drives you desperately, deliciously wild, a feral urge in you snatching control of your conscience.

But not right now. And he knows it.

He hums, displeased, and you have a split moment to register his disappointment before he’s purring, “Sweetheart, I think you can do better than that, can’t you?”

The velvet of his voice strokes the flame inside you, sending a wave of warmth between your thighs. Another throb against the stiffness under your ass. His hands remain at his sides, not offering any assistance. You can practically feel his lazy gaze on your ass, waiting patiently for you to react.

He senses your hesitation, knows the reason you’re timid—waiting for the fitting room attendant to come back at any minute and discover the lewd situation unfolding. So he changes his approach, voice honeyed and silky smooth. “Look at that gorgeous dress. Y’look fucking stunning in it, baby. But you gotta earn it, darlin’.”

You meet his gaze in the reflection of the mirror, see the glitter in them that tells you he’s serious, accepting the small nod he gives you. Bracing your hands on his meaty thighs, you resume your movements, pressing yourself into his groin with more force.

Matt’s words echo in your head as you work him—and yourself—into a frenzy. Earn it. He didn’t specify what his… end goal was, but from the glint in his eye you think it’s safe to assume it’s more than just a clothed lap dance in the middle of the dressing room. 

How you ended up half-naked, thong tugged to the side, hands bracing yourself against the wall of the fitting room, you’re not sure; all you really know is the feeling of Matt’s weight behind you, so tall his face is almost out of your view in the mirror’s reflection. He’s not looking at you, instead focused on tapping the head of his erection against your ass.

You bite your lip to stifle a whine, staring at him in the hopes he’ll offer you just a glance so you can beg him silently to please, put it in. Eventually, he does, sees the desperation pooling in your eyes and chuckles smugly, pleased at the rash desire he finds in them.

“Arch it for me, sweet girl.”

Obeying, you press your ass out toward him, thinking you’d break your back right here, right now, if it meant he’d provide you with some relief. His warm palm presses against your spine, encouraging you to go further, and he hums in approval at the view you present him: expensive dress bunched over the swell of your hips, ass out, pussy dripping, eyes wanton and pleading with him in the mirror.

“You want it?” he asks, his voice so low you strain to hear it.

You’re almost embarrassed at how fast you nod, not wanting to waste any time. He smirks again, and you know he’s biting back the urge to tease you, instead just offering, in all its simplicity: “Slut.”

There’s a brief moment where he allows his words to sink in, a flood of arousal seeping out of your bare, uncovered core, threatening to drip onto the faded wood flooring of the dressing room. You’re grateful that he didn’t make you beg—he usually does—but then he’s pressing into you without warning and a loud cry leaves your lips.

Your hand slaps over your mouth to muffle the sound, but he’s already gotten what he wants out of you, a more than obvious admission of the debauchery occurring just inside the fitting room. Instead, he focuses on the warm wetness enveloping his dick, watching the way your cunt sucks him in, greedy.

Despite his reckless attitude, he’s aware of the slap of his hips against your ass, and instead of jackhammering into you the way he wants to, he’s opted for hard, deep, slow thrusts; hard enough to have a soft, involuntary sigh every time he sheaths himself to the hilt inside of you. It’s the opposite of a quickie (even though that’s exactly what this is); instead, he’s diligent, indulging himself in the feeling of your tight walls throbbing around his length. 

All things considered, you’re pleased with the minimal amount of noises sounding from your stall; though your body shivers when you hear the low groan rumble in his chest. With a glance in the mirror, you can see the way he’s watching himself pull out of your cunt, biting his lip at the sight.

Matt offers a light slap of his tip against your lips before he’s jutting his hips forward, subtly, to rub his length against your clit. The sensation makes you shiver, the slickness of his shaft sliding against the tender button, and you feel the shockwaves coursing through you at the movement. 

With his free hand, he gathers your hair in his fist and yanks backward, arching your back until your head is resting against his chest. The sharp pain melds into pleasure, loving the way he knows exactly how to take control over your body to have you dizzy with lust. Hot breath fans over your ear, soft and subtle pants puffing air down your neck. “Fuck yourself on it, baby.”

His warm fingers press into your hips, urging you to move; you do, seeking out that delicious tingle when the fat tip of his cock brushes against your clit, running between your folds. You hear the pleased hum in your ear, quiet, and then the chuckle that follows when he slips into you, a loud gasp leaving your lips.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he murmurs with a low groan. “So fucking wet for me, just the way I like it.”

Matt urges you to keep going, biting back another moan at the feeling of him being buried inside you. Your hips roll him in and out of you, and Matt’s hand trails over your ribcage, groping your breast on its way up to finally land at your throat, fingers curling around the base and squeezing. “Makin’ too much noise. Someone’s gonna hear you, and then I won’t get to flood this pretty little cunt with cum, will I?”

Swallowing the urge to whine with need, you shake your head, trying to tell him with your eyes how badly you want that. His lips press softly against the place where your shoulder meets your neck, keeping eye contact with you through the mirror while he angles his hips in search of the spot that’s going to have you dribbling down your legs. He knows he’s reached it by the way your mouth falls open, your brows scrunching in pleasure when the nudge of him against your g-spot has your eyes fluttering shut.

He hums again, and you know he’s pleased—both with himself for reading your body like his favorite book, and with you for being obediently quiet. The hand around your neck tightens while the forceful punch of Matt’s hips grows more intentional, aiming for precision rather than speed.

The smirk in the mirror, flashed in your direction is enough to make you shiver in his arms. “You think you can stay quiet while you come for me? Hmm?”

You’re trapped—can’t nod, can’t speak, barely hanging onto your last shred of control before you’re succumbing to the release that rips through you. Your legs shake, lungs scrambling for breath as the wave crashes over you, hands clutching the wall in search of purchase. Tears prick at the rims of your eyes, blurring your vision. 

Matty’s eyes glitter as he pulls out of you, grinning when he hears the slickness between your legs. 

“Love it when she purrs for me.”

It’s only when you feel hot liquid oozing out of you that you realize he met his climax, too, burying the evidence deep within your core. Your shaky legs clench together in an effort to prevent his cum from seeping down your legs and onto the floor.

Matt’s hands linger on your sides to make sure you’re steady before he’s tugging your panties back in place and swooping the dress back over your hips. He hums at the creamy drips on the inside of your thighs, swiping up to collect it on his finger. You don’t even have to be told to open your mouth, eyes fluttering shut when he presses the salty mixture onto your tongue. He hums when your lips close around the digit, sucking it clean before he releases it with a pop.

His eyes are still dark when he presses the call button on the wall with a crooked grin, and when the attendant knocks gently on the door, he says simply, “We’ll take the dress.”

#matt martin fic #matt martin x reader #hockey fic #hockey imagine #nhl imagine #nhl fic #nhl fanfiction #hockey smut

[sweet-as-an-angel]

I know you must be busy and have a lot of work to do, so dont feel pressured to respond !! 😊

Anyways, i have Dominic💓 brainrot 😫‼️‼️💔💔, and was wondering what hed think of a reader that has been raised in a lower/working-class household all of their life ?

Here we have a person that's not has had even a *taste* of luxury, their clothes being second-hand, thrifting becoming their past-time, and, havung had parents living paycheck-to-paycheck, would feel guilty for ever asking tjem for anything, and had starting working for Dominic because they were desperate to pay them back for all the sacrifices they msde for them in their childhood :((

And here we have Dominic, a successful, wealthy business man, secretly raising their wages, and the whole time reader feels sheepish and at times even *embarrassed*, overwhelmed by so much money ??

Especially whrn he slides in a thick envelope with a generous stack of cash into their back pocket with a charming wink, or buys them sometjing that they had mentioned wanting in a passing conversation as they had been sadly stating how they coupd never afford it, and Dominic saying that its absolutely—

—"Not a problem in the slightest, mon chéri. Why wouldn't I want to reward my favourite babysitter for their hard work?"— **oozing** charisma and smiling his dazzling, award-winning smile, and insisting that—

—"You shouldn't be fussing over trifles such as money. Hard work pays off, and you have been working very hard indeed." ... @@"" ",

Anon, you've hit the nail on the head with this one 🤭. Thank you so much for writing in and enjoying my Dominic content, it means the world to me <3 !

TW: Dominic, Manipulative Mentions of Weight Loss, Implied Smut, Dominic Being a Creep

♡ But yes, absolutely, Dominic would use his financial position as a means of dominance over you. Subtly, of course, so that you don't know he's being...unabashed his efforts to woo you. But prevalent enough that you still feel indebted - grateful - to him for all that he's done.

♡ The longer you know each other, the more personal - intimate - the gifts he gets you become. Speaking on that, he makes a habit to inadvertently reward behaviours he desires in you, such as cutting off friends, dumping your boyfriend, spending more time around him, etc.

♡ At first, the gifts are general - vague - and inconspicuous; they belie the true extent to which Dominic has memorised your tastes. Something like a low-price jumper he knows is your general style, something to keep you warm in winter. He'll give you a smile. "Can't have our favourite babysitter freezing up now, can we."

♡ Then, it'll be a pair of boots to go with the jumper - "So you won't have any difficulty getting to and from our house."

♡ It doesn't matter that you live right next door to each other. Dominic doesn't want you taking any chances.

♡ He'll use his assertiveness to trick you into believing you've "Gotten a little thinner these days. Are you eating properly?"

♡ He'll feign concern as he comes close to you, lifting your arms, apologising and faking a vague bashfulness as he apologises for overstepping. "French hospitality, I suppose," he says, averting his eyes for no longer than a second.

♡ And of course, you believe him. Of course, you don't see a problem with his behaviour, especially when he seems so concerned for your wellbeing.

♡ He won't let that lie, by the way. He'll keep telling you how you seem to keep dropping a size every time you see him. Eventually, he'll insist on taking you out to dinner.

♡ When you inevitably try to refuse his kindness, he'll whip out old reliable. "It was supposed to be Marilyn and I's dinner date, but she's..." he glances down the hall. Gives his brow a light yet chiselled furrow. He wonders if you can hear the fizz of the sedative in Marilyn's drink as he can, the sound fresh in his ears.

♡ "Sick, unfortunately."

♡ So now, obviously, Dominic is faced with a dilemma. But you have the solution.

♡ He asks you to accompany him — “I’ll pay for you, of course,” — to take Marilyn’s place.

♡ You resist at first. Tell him that you couldn’t possibly do that. But Dominic is the father of manipulation, and he’s nursed many a lie, watched the become their own adulterous identities, and knows exactly how to get you to go.

♡ “Please, you deserve a break. And besides, I don’t want to be seen eating all the lobster on my lonesome.”

♡ You succumb to his efforts. He tells you to get ready for your dinner date. You tell him you have nothing worthy of wearing.

♡ He knows this.

♡ He smiles. Brings you to a room that is filled to the brim in outfits he says that “Marilyn and I rarely use. Something here will be your size, I'm sure.”

♡ He’s made sure there is. He’s bought half a dozen suits and dresses in just your size — and a little over or under depending on how tightly he wants to see the fabric squeeze you — for this exact occasion. Of which he expects there to be multiple.

♡ He resists the temptation of watching you undress. Of seeing you so bare in his house.

♡ He settles for whatever little flashes of skin your outfit affords. All of which were bought with the sole intention of giving Dominic enough to work with for his midnight musings.

♡ This is not the last time Dominic will treat you to dinner, the last time he watches your eyes bulge out of your skull as you see the amount the bill comes down to — a luxury Dominic lets you see to really instill that sense of indebtedness.

♡ And each time, he tries to get you further and further over the threshold of his house. His room.

♡ When you get undressed and back into your ordinary clothes, Dominic tells you he’ll keep the outfit and wash it.

♡ You don’t know it’s yours yet.

♡ He doesn’t wash it. He all but bathed in the scent of you, mouthing the places your warmest, most intimate sorts would have been pressed against. He imagines you there, vividly.

♡ He wonders how much you’d be willing to bend to the will of his wealth. How much he can make you do until you’re entrenched in his affections, toffee-sweet and with all its viscosity.

Masterlist Yandere AI Masterlist Masterpost

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#sweet as an angel #yandere #male yandere #yandere male #original yandere #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #yandere dilf #yandere dilf x reader #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere x y/n #yandere blog #yandere writing #yandere x darling #tw yandere

[heesdreamer]

SILENCED

for my few silenced fans who still read it and love it as much as i did here’s the uncompleted next chapter before i took a big pause on it! Not a priority at the moment but thought I’d give it to you for being so patient

You’d grown used to the mundane things of the apocalypse, the simple day to day task and activities that kept you going.

Your hands didn’t get rigid and stiff every time you had to wash your clothes in the freezing rivers and your stomach didn’t turn after every unseasoned meal cooked over the camp fire. It wasn’t as simple as bringing in bags of groceries or carrying a loaded basket down to the laundromat but it was life, it was chores and it was simple and routine.

Even when you were doing it for seven, you didn’t exactly mind and it was the only few things that helped you clear your mind.

Sometimes it was Sunoo and Jungwon helping you wash the clothes, splashing water at each other and wincing when they tumbled forward onto some slimy rocks but not complaining when they had to carry back the heavy pile of wet clothes to hang up. Then it was Jake following into the woods with you, learning how to set traps for small animals and slowly getting the hang of spotting the prints of larger prey in the mud.

Sunghoon started to do the most important task by simply listening to you on a routine basis. You weren’t sure when the two of you started to pick up the habit of sharing your worries and thoughts before going to bed, talking in lows whispers and offering each other advice or most times just silence and a listening ear.

He listened to you talk about your fears of growing closer to them as the days passed and he told you how much he was terrified he was going to hold back the group, already feeling guilty that you hadn’t all moved on from this camp while he recovered.

You told him that it was okay and nobody blamed him but you bit your tongue on the fact that nobody seemed to want to leave anyways. No one had brought it up in the six days since the looters arrived, all growing used to the area and routine and finding a familiarity and comfort in it.

You knew it wasn’t safe and so did the others but it was hard to accept it for some reason, slowly spreading out into divided groups throughout the three houses and you felt a hint of panic at the fact everybody seemed to be getting comfortable now. Comfortable always worried you, knowing it meant guards were being lowered and you’d already almost lost each other multiple times in this area on full alert.

Sunghoon still wasn’t quite sure why he had gone out into the woods, tensing up every time you asked and shrugging with an expression that convinced you he really didn’t know.

There wasn’t any reason to push him on the subject despite how curious you were, knowing what was done was done and the events leading up to it wouldn’t change that. Sunghoon was still on bed rest so you hadn’t had to watch him face the full consequences of losing a limb in the apocalypse, not yet having to relearn how to shoot or lift a heavy piece of debris out of his way.

It made your heart ache but you had a good feeling he’d be able to figure it out, he’d grow used to it because he was strong and he fought too hard to not want to push past another obstacle. Sometimes, when you fell asleep and your body actually allowed you the luxury of a dream, you’d see him and the other boys. You were somewhere safe with big walls and plenty of water and fields to grow crops and Sunghoon was always there, a prosthetic arm that he was using casually and a bright smile.

Every once in a while it ended like that, giving you a soft fuzzy feeling when you’d wake up and start your routine again but most times it would quickly turn sour.

The boys in your dreams would turn pale with yellow sunken eyes, they’d be bloody and screaming and surging forward towards you suddenly with snapping jaws and most nights you weren’t able to bring yourself to put them down before they were sinking their teeth into your skin.

Those nights you’d wake up sweaty and panting, disoriented and understanding nothing but the overwhelming urge to get up and get far away from them all and the risk of seeing something terrible happen to them like that. Then you’d feel soft hands cupping your face in the familiar way they did, brushing your hair out of your wet face and whispering gentle things that always took you a few minutes to make out.

Heeseung would calm you down every single time you woke up from a nightmare, somehow always being awake to free you from that mental prison and you’d collapse against his chest with exhaustion and let him hold you until you were able to slip back into a quieter sleep.

If the other boys noticed how particularly close the two of you were, they didn’t say anything or at least not to you. Sometimes you’d see one of the younger boys throw Heeseung a look when his hands lingered on you for too long, some wiggled eyebrows and smirks. The older boys seemed a bit more hesitant to approach the situation but they were all keen and observant, giving you a heavy look whenever your gaze followed the leader out of the room.

You hadn’t planned for somebody like Heeseung to ever show up, never having considering feeling something so stupid and risky in this new world and sometimes you almost couldn’t bring yourself to look at him in frustration towards how vulnerable he made you.

It wasn’t something the two of you talked about but you knew he understood the way you felt, much more willing to take that chance and risk the extra hurt that would come along with losing you now. You were absolutely more hesitant to accept him and this connection and you were grateful that he never pushed you or tried to talk about it officially, satisfied with sleeping side by side and feeling his hands gently graze against your arm whenever he passed by you.

When three weeks passed since the incident and you were still holding down camp in the small cleared area, you knew your time there as a group was coming to an end.

You’d seen multiple corpses far too close to your area and you assumed they’d begun to move out of the city for the same reasons you had. They’d run out of food there and were searching for it out in the woods like the rest of you.

“What’re you thinking so hard about?” Your hands were faltering in their movements, sharping a piece of wood into a small point, and you glanced up to see Jay coming to sit around the unlit fire with you.

“I don’t know.” You were quickly sighing out, glancing at him one more time just to see the disbelieving look on his face before you were continuing with your knife work. “Just thinking we should probably be heading out sooner or later.”

“Yeah.” He said it in a large breath, heavy and defeated like he’d been considering the same things you had been.

Jay had been the most reluctant to settle down in the area and you couldn’t blame him, clearly the most careful and hesitant when it came to falling into that natural comfort that came with staying in one place for too long. He was a lot like you in that sense except he was more concerned with the groups safety than his own, something you were still fearful about fully leaning into.

“Don’t you have a run with Heeseung later?” He was asking suddenly and you paused again to look at him in confusion, wondering where he was going with this. “Well why don’t you mention it to him?”

“Why me?” You felt dumb the second you said it and he cocked his head at you with a hint of a smile.

“Are you seriously asking me that?”

#enhypen #enhypen drabbles #enhypen fanfiction #heeseung x reader #heeseung au #enhypen au #heeseung fic #lee heeseung #silenced

[wanderingelvis]

i loved your ‘elvis takes care of reader on her period’ and the ‘innocent reader’ fics!! I was thinking of another innocent reader fic? Or maybe just normal reader? Honestly which ever you vibe with more :) Where Elvis takes reader out shopping and they have a little fashion show + more cute stuff 🫠

Thank you! I loved writing this request - I hope you like it! I specifically had Sugar Daddy!Elvis in mind here 🧚

🧚🏻 Masterlist 🧚🏻 word count: 1,746

pairing: 1973!elvis x female innocent!reader

warnings: mention of virginity, slight smut, slight daddy kink

It was no secret that you'd had a modest upbringing - not just when it came to material items but also when it came to experience. Your mother and father had kept you sheltered and you'd had a relatively uneducated childhood which had hindered you a little when you grew older as you didn't really grow any wiser.

Elvis knew about your upbringing, actually, it was one of the things that drew him to you when you opened up to him one night. Elvis could relate to what you told him about not having many nice things or fancy possessions growing up and it made him feel protective over you, he wanted to be the one to expose you to his newfound world of luxurious and beautiful things.

And that's exactly what was happening, Elvis had taken you to a pretty boutique to pick out some new clothes for you as a special treat. Elvis had bought you clothes before, ones that he wanted to see you in but he'd never taken you shopping to actually choose the clothes before.

"It's pretty ain't it baby?" Elvis whispered standing behind you, rubbing the sides of your upper arms as he watched you chew on your lip as your fingers traced the soft tulle material of the dress on the hanger. You nodded gently in response, not saying anything. "Pretty dress like that should be on a pretty baby, don't ya think?" He hummed in your ear, sending shivers through your body. Even though he called you them all the time, you were still not used to the endless compliments and pet names that Elvis would give you. 

Elvis could tell you were hesitant to indulge in these little luxuries, he knew your battle-axe of a father had it engrained in you from very early on that money was to be spent on the necessities and for saving and not to be spent on something as frivolous as a party dress. You shuddered just thinking about what he would say if he could see you right now, looking at silly party dresses.

But they were just so pretty.

"It's so much money Elvis." You said softly, feelings of guilty washing over you. You knew Elvis was generous, someone just had to mention that they thought something looked nice and the next day it would be on their doorstep, courtesy of Elvis, but you were just feeling so overwhelmed at the cost until your eyes lit up a little and you spun round in Elvis' arms to face him.

"I could maybe, um, I could maybe pay for some of it! I don't have that much left but um, I should be paid soon and then, then I could give you some of it!" You said, your eyes wide eager enthusiasm. "A-and I could, maybe, um, maybe I could owe you!"

Now, Elvis knew as soon as the suggestion left your soft lips that he wouldn't allow you to pay him a dime towards the party dress that you obviously adored, however, after years of people around him trying to take advantage of him for his money, your small gesture meant a whole lot to him. 

Elvis chuckled a little as he studied your face which held nothing but sweet earnest, you were just so eager to please him. Elvis leaned down a little so he could crouch in front of you, taking your little hands in his big ones.

"Now lil' darlin', y'know I don't need any of your money, but that is awful sweet of ya baby,-"

"B-but I wanna give something back to you!" You interrupted, desperate to show Elvis that you really did want to contribute. 

Elvis laughed that deep, Southern chuckle, his large hand cupping your cheek as his thumb traced over it soothingly. "You're such a good lil' girl, y'know that?" Elvis cooed, raising his eyebrow slightly as he awaited your answer and watched as you blushed, recoiling cutely at the words.

You simply nodded in response, offering the big, tall, powerful man a soft smile.

"Oh baby, you know I wanna hear you say it." Elvis hummed. His tone was gentle and quiet but held so much dominance and power over you.

You opened your mouth which had suddenly gone dry at the command, "I-I'm a good little girl." You stuttered tripping over your words. Elvis knew that he'd made you feel all nervous and shy and he adored having that control over you.

"Atta girl." Elvis murmured. "Now, how's about you show me how pretty you're gonna look in that dress, hm?" Elvis whispered cooly, sending shivers through your small body and causing your eyes to go wide.

Elvis watched you intensely as you nodded at his not-so-negotiable suggestion. Elvis gave you a short nod back before rising fully and turning to the boutique workers who were stationed by the door, on alert to help with any request that either you or Elvis had.

"Ladies, I think we'll take it from here and Y/N here will try on one or two dresses. If y'all could wait outside the door and we'll let ya know when we're ready to make the purchase." Elvis dismissed, smiling at the women as they nodded and exited the room. 

Elvis practically sauntered to the couch in the middle of the boutique room, his large frame leaning back on the velvet couch and occupying all the space. He grinned at you as he sat, spreading his legs out, ready to watch you undress.

You shot him a tentative smile, feeling a little giddy and very overwhelmed at everything that was going on. Delicately, you picked out the beautiful tulle party dress and laid it in front of you before your trembling fingers began to unbutton the cute, short little dress you currently had on.

Sure, Elvis had seen you naked before, you'd been intimate in many ways already - you hadn't quite gone all the way yet, Elvis had told you that you weren't ready for that and you trusted him, but you still felt vulnerable, getting undressed in a beautiful albeit very public boutique in Vegas. Sure, you were in a private area in the boutique that Elvis had instructed the workers not to enter, but you'd really not done anything as risque as this before.

"Look at ya, followin' instruction so well that I didn't even have to tell you to strip and you're already desperate to get naked for me." Elvis said, snapping you out of your thoughts, making you blush for what must've been the thousandth time this afternoon. 

You loved the praise that Elvis gave you. You were always so eager to please.

You peeled off the dress, letting it drop to the plush, fluffy carpet, pooling by your ankles you were left in just your panties. You had forgone a bra and the cool air from the boutique breezed across your sensitive nipples, hardening them as Elvis watched, his eyes dark and full of lust. 

"Such a pretty girl," Elvis cooed, barely audible but enough for you to hear and let out a soft giggle that just the sound of could make Elvis' cock twitch. 

Elvis had been infatuated with you since he first laid eyes on you. You were just a little, starry-eyed thing that was constantly seeking praise and reassurance, desperate to please anyone you encountered. The innocence that radiated off you had certainly made an impression on Elvis. 

Elvis quickly realised that he could instruct you to do anything and you'd do it without question and not just because you were eager to please, but also because you were so naive that even some of Elvis' more immoral demands would go right over your pretty little head.

"Put the dress on for Daddy, baby." Elvis grunted, palming subtly at his lower region, the idea of you standing in the middle of the boutique, exposed and trembling with nerves but compliant to his every whim, making him feel aroused.

You nodded at his words, grabbing the gorgeous pink dress with your shaky hands, taking it off the hanger and carefully unzipping the fabric. You shot Elvis an innocent grin that he reciprocated as the excitement of wearing something so beautiful grew.

You stepped into the dress, shimmying it up your body, wiggling your hips adorably as you adjusted it to fit your frame. The excitement became all a little too much, consuming you entirely as you ran to the full-length mirror to see the dress on your body, gasping when you were met with your reflection.

"It's so beautiful!" You giggled angelically, twirling around to see the full skirt spin and looking over your shoulder to see the detailing on the back.

"Baby." Elvis said, making you turn to him immediately. "C'mere." He gently commanded, beckoning at you with two long fingers. 

You scampered over to him, bare footed as he pat his lap, gesturing for you to sit there, as you did, giggling as the tulle covered the both of you as you swung your little legs, your feet not quite reaching the floor when you leant back on Elvis' chest.

"My beautiful girl." Elvis hushed, kissing the top of your head. 

You were in heaven.

Elvis continued to whisper sweet nothings in your ear, praising you and complimenting you, making you feel all fuzzy in your tummy, which you told him straight away, making him chuckle at how utterly sweet you were.

"D'ya like the dress, little 'un?" Elvis said, teasing you as the answer had been obvious as soon as you'd entered the boutique.

You nodded enthusiastically, "Oh yes! Oh, I love it! It's just so, um, so beautiful! And look at the pretty beads and pearls! It's so sparkly! Oh Elvis, it's the prettiest thing I've ever seen!" You said, not understanding that Elvis was teasing you but it didn't matter, Elvis loved making you happy like this.

"Well, I think we ought to buy it for ya then baby, what do ya say?" Elvis chuckled.

"Thank you! Thank you so much, it's the nicest thing I've ever been given, it's the nicest thing I've ever worn! It's gonna be so special! I'll only wear it for special occasions!" You said with those adorable bush-baby eyes of yours.

"Special occasions hm? I think that's a good idea lil' mama." Elvis said, brushing your hair behind your shoulder as you sat upright in  his lap. "You know what that means, little one?" Elvis asked, making you furrow your brows and tilt your head to the side cutely in confusion.

"What?"

"Daddy's gonna take your virginity in this dress, baby." 

taglist: @reddie-freddie @meetmeatyourworst @octobers-snow @kxnnxy @slimerspengler @elvisbf @astralheart21 @prompted-wordsmith @vintagegirl2005 @imaginationlast @presleyenterprise @librafilms @ccab @wolywolymoley @wwebaby657 @billhaderstan420 @waiting4brucewayne2adoptme @elvispresleywife @ellie-24 @hollbunn @sassanoe @gothicphantom @eliseinmemphis @fallinlovewithurlove

#sugar daddy elvis #elvis presley #elvis #elvis fic #elvis fanfic #elvis imagine #elvis oneshot #elvis x reader #elvis x you #elvis x y/n #elvis smut #elvis angst #elvis fluff #elvis x oc #yandere elvis #70s elvis #innocent reader #innocent!reader

[vesper-tinus]

requesting simon x reader and something soft? 🥺 maybe a bit naughty like the könig snippet (or more). please and thank you ❤

Hello! Thank you for the request! I'd love to write something for you with Simon, especially if it's soft! For this snippet, you are somewhere early in your relationship, hence why Simon is still sort of... awkward. I imagine him very much like 🧍‍♂️. Slight NFSW as requested.

𝐒𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐖𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫 & 𝐒𝐤𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬. Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader

Summary: You've convinced your boyfriend to let you spoil him with a warm bath. You are very good with your hands, as he comes to find. Keywords: Established relationship—early days, romantic fluff, bath scene, you give him a handjob so slight smut warning! Wordcount: 1205

He is almost afraid to count them all. All the dates he had to cancel. Cold feet or sudden deployment, it doesn’t matter because he feels guilty all the same. One time, he cancelled over text, and he feels bloody stupid thinking back on it now. He felt even stupider back then. 

That’s why he still has a hard time believing he’s not dreaming right now.

Simon’s standing outside the bathroom as you draw a bath. A bath for him. He looks out of place in your bedroom. Motionless as he awaits your return; awaits your permission to enter the bathroom. He didn’t know it took this much time to prepare a bath, much less one in a tub. Aren’t you just supposed to fill the thing with water? Instead, he hears bottles and cabinet doors being opened and closed; he hears your pleasant humming echoed on the tiled walls. 

You, however, give Simon no further time to doubt himself (or your methods) when you reappear in front of him, leading him by the hand into the bathroom. You reassure him that this is the ‘best bath ever drawn’, and you’ve drawn many in your lifetime, so you would know. And he scoffs with faint amusement as you bump your hip against his.

There you stand, hand in hand, in front of a filled tub. Warm water dressed with a tasteful amount of scented bubbles. ‘Filled to perfection’, as you promised. You peer at your boyfriend to gauge his reaction, and you can’t help but smile at the slight furrow of his brows. He’s not sure what to do. 

You pivot to face him, a comforting hand coming up to cup his cheek. Your thumb gently caressing his face. The ‘let me take care of you’ goes unspoken, but he understands, and allows you to help him out of his shirt and boxers. You press butterfly kisses to every inch of his skin as it's exposed to the warm air, and you’re rewarded with a faint rumble of approval from deep within his chest. 

You wordlessly help lower him into the tub.

It’s spacious and spotlessly clean, filled with warm water and a scented soap that uniquely reminds him of you. He finds it lavish and all too luxurious for someone like him—someone who takes 3-minute cold showers; someone who cancelled over text. Someone like Simon. 

You settle behind the tub, wetting your hands in the water before they come to knead the nape of his neck with practised hands. Weary muscles softening with each press of your deft fingers. Slowly, but surely, you feel his body unwind beneath your palms. Your thumbs ghosting over the many scars—old and new—that adorn his body. He looks beautiful despite it all. 

Simon feels guilty for enjoying it. For having your attention. 

He shuts his eyes and lets out a small sigh when you cup water in your hands to massage it into his scalp. By the time his hair is soaked and you start working in the shampoo, he can hardly tell the difference between the warm water and your hands, relaxed as he is. The circular motion of the pads of your fingertips feel like heaven to him, and he feels it all the way to the base of his skull. A numbing, but pleasant, sensation.

“You’re behaving awfully well,” you tease, carefully pouring water onto his hair to wash out the soapy suds. “Not such a bad thing being spoiled now, is it?” He deserves good things, you think. And you've told him as much.

Simon notes the care in which you ensure no water nor soap gets into his eyes. 

“Don’t push it,” he mumbles with half-hearted grouchiness, sounding as if he could doze off any second. He feels your laughter reverberating behind him. You are a haven he never knew he needed, a place of comfort and warmth... and scented baths, apparently.

You procure a prepared washcloth, wetting it before you begin to methodically rub his body. The broad expanse of his back—his torso—down to his waist. You wash his muscular thighs and impressive calves. You’re taking your time exploring your boyfriend's body, and all the reactions you manage to lure from him. The firm caress does wonders to his aching muscles, and the texture of the cloth is soon replaced with your skillful fingers; massaging your way back up until you, once more, settle behind him.  

You pick up the washcloth again and slowly slide it down towards his abdomen. Your hands float beneath the water, caressing his waist, his stomach, and his ribs, before he feels the cloth settle against the inside of his thigh. He hears you swallow a breath.  

“Simon?” you ask, pressing a kiss to the junction between his neck and shoulder. 

He could die a happy man, if the last thing he would hear was his name from your lips. 

His kiss is hot, wet, and entirely possessive. He sieves a breath through his teeth as the cloth rubs gently against and around his most sensitive parts. You’re nothing if not thorough. Your mind slowly unravels as you lazily make out with Simon, and soon the washcloth is left floating in the tub as you rest a hand on his chest, slowly travelling downwards to rest beneath his navel. 

“Simon?” you ask again, your voice quieter and even more inviting than before. 

“Fuck, yes,” he all but moans as his head tilts back to rest against your, now wet, shoulder.

With his assent, your hand roams downwards to the base of his length. He feels hot and heavy in your palm. You take a moment to simply hold him, marvelling at the sheer size of him. You feel him twitch, see his Adam’s apple bob, and slowly you wrap your fingers around his cock. 

You tug him to full hardness, occasionally slipping lower to caress his balls. You pause to simply hold him in your hand again, teasingly thumbing the slit before jerking him off again, faster and faster.

Heat and yearning pools in the pit of his stomach and leaves him light-headed. Shallow breaths merging with the hot steam of the water that surrounds you. “That’s it,” he moans with encouragement, his voice controlled but consumed by want. By need. And the sound is hoarse and delicious to your ears. 

You feel it, his impatience, his need for release, because he bucks into your hand, and you answer every one of his thrusts with a rhythmic, blissful stroking. You bite your lip as he tugs a fistful of your hair. Droplets of water wetting your skin. 

He eventually comes with a curse, sloshing water around as he faintly arch.

Flush-faced, you wordlessly pull the stopper to let the water drain out along with the evidence of his pleasure.

Simon lays in the tub, breathless, and with his head tilted back as he watches you with half-lidded eyes. His nude body in full display, no longer hidden beneath shallow water. 

He grabs your wrist.

“We’re not done quite yet, sweetheart.” 

You feel a shiver run down your spine at his suggestive tone. So what else is there to do but peel off your clothes to join him?

#simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost #ghost cod #cod #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare 2 #cod mw22 #x reader #reader #fanfiction #smut #cod mw2 #cod mw2 x reader #cod x reader #cod mw2 imagine #cod imagine #cod modern warfare #modern warfare 2 #reader imagine #vespertine writes