#and fill out the entrance paperwork

[yardsards]

living alone is all fun and games til you have a medical emergency and there's no one there to help you to the hospital

[snowande]

Perverted ghost

(Male x Female)

you buy a old house with a good price, sadly you didn't know that the house has a ghost that waited for someone to be his bride for a long time.

when you were bending to cleaning the couch, suddenly something lick your crotch on your clothed shorts and making a wet patch.

the ghost really REALLY loves messing with you, at midnight when you were asleep, the ghost would folding your chest, licking and sucking your clit at midnight.

At night after done working from your job, you came home and make dinner for yourself, because at work you didn't get to eat, your boss is such an ass for giving you many paperworks.

So here you are making dinner in the kitchen, when you feel the atmosphere drop icycold.

You know he's here.

The ghost's presence grew stronger, his unseen form walking to you slowly. Suddenly, a cold fingers trailed up your thigh, sending involuntary shivers through your body.

Cold breath tickled the nape of your neck as the ghost whispered, "Mmm, dinner smells delicious, but you're my real appetite." His hand cupped your breast through your shirt, the cold seeping into your skin and playing with your nipples.

You yelp, dropping the tongs you were holding for making the fried chickens. The ghost chuckled softly, his other hand snaking around your waist and sliding into your pants. His frigid touch on your warmth was both exhilarating and unsettling. "You're so warm..."

His fingers found your most intimate area, stroking you with an otherworldly gentleness. The ghost's voice echoed in your mind, "I've waited so long for a bride like you. Your body is exquisite." His lips brushed against your ear as he whispered huskily,

His hands became more insistent, one squeezing your breast painfully while the other parted your folds and slid inside you. You bit your lip to stifle a moan, your hands gripping the countertop tightly as the ghost began to toy with you.

His touch was both cold and scorching, sending wave after wave of sensation through your core. Your breath hitched as he added a second finger, his thumb circling your engorged bud. The ghost's voice grew more demanding in your mind, "Moan for me."

"Haaa... " You did as you were told, finally letting out the sounds that he wants. The ghost fingers worked you with inhuman skill. Your hips began to buck against his hand, seeking more of that delicious friction. Suddenly, he withdrew his fingers, leaving you wet and empty.

Suddenly he grab your arms and lifts you effortlessly and lays you back on the kitchen counter, The cold surface shocks your heated skin as he spreads your legs, positioning himself between them.

You feel the ghost's rigid length pressing against your entrance, cold as death yet throbbing with spectral desire. He teases you with the tip, circling your opening, coating himself in your slick arousal. "I'm going to claim you, make you mine for eternity,"

His voice dripped with possessiveness as he slowly pushed into you, his icy form melting against your warmth. You threw your head back, clutching the edge of the counter as he filled you, moaning at how the cold form entering you.

You try to get the length out of you, so your hand goes down to your crotch and finding nothing but empty air that fucking your cunt, he chuckled softly. "Forgot I'm a ghost, my dear...?" He drew back, almost withdrawing entirely before slamming back into you.

Every thrust sent a shockwaves through your core, contrasting deliciously with the heat radiating from your flushed skin. The ghost's invisible cock plunged deeper, each stroke reaching places you never knew existed. His voice reverberated through your mind, dripping with dark amusement.

His phantom cock continued its relentless assault, pounding into you, The coolness of his cold shaft contrasted intensely with the scorching heat of your climax building deep within. He leaned in close, his icy breath tickling your ear as he whispered to you.

"Come for me, my love..." His thrusts quickened, the counter shaking with the force of his spectral hips slamming against yours. He reached between you, finding your clit with an unseen finger and rubbing it in time with his thrusts.

Your body started to trembled on the precipice, ghostly fingers teasing and stroking, sending electric shocks of pleasure coursing through every vein. With a shuddering moan, you climaxed hard, your inner muscles clenching around the cock still plunging into you.

As your orgasm crashed over you in waves, you can feel his cold essence into your body, foolding your core. You felt strangely full, both physically and spiritually.

Even as your climax subsided, you could still feel the phantom cock throbbing within you, as if reluctant to leave the warmth of your body. The ghostly essence seemed to pulse and swell, as if expanding to fill every inch of your being.

He nuzzled against your neck, his cold breath sending shivers down your spine. "You're mine now" he whispered, his voice like a winter's breeze. "My warmth, my bride..." he finally pull out from your cum filled cunt

And finally he kiss your lip as a goodbye for now, because you need to rest after the love making he do with you as an official couple. you knew he will come back to his wife.

As you laid on the kitchen counter breathless then you smell something burning.

Ah, you forgot to turn off the stove.

I'm sorry if you already see this and I'm reupload it again because for some reason I don't see my post at my page :( -Lumi

picture is from Pinterest Rakusetsu

Tag @nymphea0

[scar-lie]

Distraction (Natasha)

Summary : you make sure Natasha finished her paperworks before tomorrow

Pairing : Natasha Romanoff x Fem ! Reader

Warning : Nat has penis, creampie, oral, cockwarming, little bit of daddy kink

Word count : 1,297

Cherryleamontober

NO one has permission to repost my work anywhere, if you see it please let me know.

Natasha groans while gripping the edge of her table so hard that her chuckles are turning white.

"Fuck…mmhhh,” she moans, then starts to gather your hair into an oonytail and starts to thrust her hips into your mouth.

“That feels good,” she sighs, feeling how warm and wet your mouth is. Then you massage her balls, making her a little bit tense but in a good way.

“Don't baby….shit, I’m going to blow if you keep going that,” she whispers, stopping her intrusion.

“Then do it...” you whisper after you pop out her cock, then start to give her a sloppy handjob.

“I’m going to swallow it,” you smirk, and she looks down at you with a smirk too.

“Oh yeah, why don't you give me a show” she sat down on her chair, then lean back.

You happily obliged, then started to lick her length, then sucked the tip of her cock, making her groan.

“I know you're near, honey,” you whisper before you take her length and start to bob your head up and down, hollowing your cheeks and massaging her balls, which leaves her a moaning mess.

“God, Y/N...shit that feels good,” she groans, bucking her hips to meet you halfway, but you push her hip down, making her whine.

“Stay still...” then you switch to her balls and suck it; she moans, gripping the handle of her chair, and throws her head back.

"Shut, it's coming fuck! "You quickly pop out her balls, then go back to sucking her tip and jacking the rest of her length until she cum in your mouth that you happily swallow every last bit.

“Fuck fuck fuck,” she keeps moaning, then when she stops, you swallow the last cum on your tongue, then show her that you swallow, making her twitch.

“Fuck baby, I want to fuck you so bad...” She whispered, and you chuckled at her and sat on her left leg.

"Well, you still have work to do... or do you want Fury to be in the bad mood tomorrow?” she groans and rolls her eyes. She's been working for 8 hours straight, no break, in her office, and it's making her nuts. All she wanted to do was just lay down and rest.

You chuckle and then smirk when an idea pops up in your head, making Natahsa look at you, curious. 

“How about this...” You pause then run your fingertips on her still hard cock; that's gain still twitching.

“I’ll reward you once you finish this paperwork, huh? "She is still confused but loves the idea of reward.

“I’ll let you do whatever you want to do to me... anything,” she quickly smirked when she heard the word anything, and it gave her a boost to finish her paperwork.

“Anything? Are you sure?” you softly smile at Ger and Hum.

“Yes anything…. Anything my love wants...maybe a...creampie? "You whisper the last word in her ear, and she quickly drags the chair to the table, ready to start her work.

"But...” she stopped before she could touch her keyboard, because, you know, there's no stopping her once she touches the keyboard.

“Of course, I’m not going to let you have it in an easy way,” she whined, and you chuckled, but she agreed neither the less. 

“What's the but? "You stood up and took off every piece of clothing you have, leaving you naked in front of her.

"Sexy,” she whistles, and you chuckle. After years, her reaction is still the same.

Then you straddle her and hover your entrance above her cock; she rests her hands on your hips, eyes looking up at you.

“I wanna give you a taste of the reward... I'm going to cockwarm you, baby,” she twitches and grips your hips, which will probably leave a bruise tomorrow.

Fuck yeah, come on so I could fill you up.” You didn't waste another second and quickly went down to take her length.

It's not easy since she's bigger than what you've had before but bearable, but still, it takes you time to fully seat her in you.

“Fuck that feels so fucking good shit,” she lightly bowed her lips when you already took her in, so you took her face and made you look at her.

“I’m sorry, love, but no moving. You clench around her, and she rests her head on your right shoulder. 

“But it feels so good,” she whispers, and you chuckle.

"Sorry, but the fun will be after your paperwork,” she groans, finding the situation unfair but still wanting to have that reward.

"Fine,” then she starts to work again.

This is the first time you let her in without a condom, so you know it will be hard for her to focus, but still she works, even though she needs to stop once in a while.

After 2 hours of you teasing her, bucking your hips, clenching around her, and kissing her neck, you even leave some hickeys that Natasha doesn't really mind; she finally finished. 

“Finally finished,” she throws her hand up, and you chuckle, seeing how happy she is.

“And now, I’m going to claim those fucking rewards now,” she quickly wrapped her arms around you and stood up, cockstally unside, then moved to the bedroom.

“You really have so much energy, huh? "She chuckled, then laid you down on the bed and took off her shirt.

“Of course... It's baby time... and I’ll get to fill you up this time,” you nod. Play her baby hair on the back of her neck.

"Yeah, you like that idea,” she said, then started to slowly thrust her hips.

“Hell yeah,” then she took your left knee and hooked it on her shoulder, then the other hook it on her arm, making sure you're spread wide open for her.

“Fuck, that feels good,” you moan, feeling her reach your pelvis and clenching around her.

“Gosh, fuck, I need more,” then she leans down and starts sucking your niople, making you moan while she sets a fast and hard pace.

“Fuck fuck that feels good, Daddy more...” you moan, throwing your head back and start clawing her back.

“Fuck fuck you feel so fucking good.” She reaches down and starts to toy with your clitoral area, and you start to shake, feeling how close you were. Natasha sits up and takes your hips and brings your hips up and starts to fuck you hard, making you grip her wrist and toss your head.

“Fuck fuck fuck, I’m going to cum, I’m going to cum,” you scream, moan, and squirt at Natasha, but Natasha didn't stop; she kept the pace and made sure to meet you halfway, making you whine and moan a mess from overstimulation.

“Nat fuck wait...oh god,” she said, taking the two pillows next to you and placing them under your hips, making sure your hips are elevated.

Then she leans down, nipping, biting, and sucking your neck, making sure she leaves marks as much as possible.

“God, you feel good around me, shit.” She groans. Her hips are getting sloppy, so you wrap your legs around her and start to help her reach her orgasm.

“Gonna cum oh fuck fuck fuck.” she screamed and cum deep insider you while she buried her face in your neck.

“Fuck that feels good,” you whisper when she stops, then puts her weight on you, so you comb her hair, cherishing this moment.

“From now on, no condoms allowed,” she said, and she lay down next to you, making sure she wouldn't pull out, and positioning you in a spooning position.

“Sleep baby, have some rest, and regain your strength.

Because I’m not done with you,” you chuckle, but close your eyes, sleeping while happily cockwarming her.

[solelifauna]

With Bared Teeth & Prayers (Yandere Batfam X Neglected Reader) (Dark!!! Werewolf AU) (Prologue)

If she could, (Y/n) Wayne would go back in time and make sure she was never taken in by Bruce Wayne and his pack. Now, she has to live with the fact that her life may end on the day of her 18th birthday, that she's going to be slaughtered and ripped apart by the very people who she wished loved her. It's alright though, 'cause she has a plan. However, things are starting to get weird... scary weird.

You arrive at Wayne Manor at age twelve, newly-shifted, anxious, and hopeful. Your mother, an apparent old hook-up of Bruce Wayne, had decided that she couldn’t take care of a half-werewolf hybrid and proceeded to leave you to CPS as soon as you presented as a shifter. CPS of course ran a blood test to see if you had any viable relatives who would be able to take you in, something custom for children of shifters. You guessed they thought that shifters would be more inclined to take in a kid if they were related, something to do with pack bonds and whatnot. 

So imagine both you and the worker's surprise when Bruce Wayne came up as a paternal match on the blood test. Everything that happened afterward was a blur. After several back-and-forth phone calls and e-mails, your caseworker made you pack whatever little belongings you had into a bag, herded you into a car, and started driving towards the nicer edge of Gotham.

You sat in the backseat, hope searing through your heart as you mulled over your fate. It wasn’t uncommon for already established packs to take in other members, especially if the newcomer was related to someone already in the pack. Of course, there would be an adjustment period in your case, you didn't expect to get along with everyone immediately, but it would all work out, right? Mr. Wayne had already signed the papers that officiated his custody over you, so that must mean he wanted you, right? A pack wouldn’t tolerate just anyone on their land, let alone in the heart of their territory.

So if they were allowing you to live with them, then that means that they were willing to consider you as pack. Your heart soared in the backseat, the hope and promise of a family and pack making you giddy with joy. According to your caseworker, there were seven other pack members, all legally considered Bruce Wayne's children. That meant you’d have siblings too; a lot of them at that. You couldn’t wait to hang out with them and play in the forest on the property. 

However, when you finally pull up to the manor's entrance, things don’t go quite as you expected. First off, it takes a full ten minutes after your caseworker rings the doorbell for anyone to answer, and when the doors finally open, you find yourself looking up, and up, and up, until your eyes meet the cool steel-blue gaze of a towering man: Bruce Wayne, the pack leader, the alpha, your father.

You offer a tentative smile, trying to gauge his reaction, but he only gives you a brief glance before turning his attention to your caseworker. They launch into a conversation about paperwork and other mundane details, Bruce nodding as he opens the door wider, gesturing for you both to come inside. Stepping through the threshold, your eyes widen at the interior—grand and sprawling, yet somehow almost cozy in its opulence. A warmth you didn’t expect fills the space, as though it’s been carefully curated over time to be both stately and lived-in.

Your gaze drifts to an older man who approaches you with a kind smile, Alfred, the family’s butler. While Bruce and your caseworker continue their conversation, Alfred gently asks about your journey. You eagerly tell him about the deer you spotted on the drive over and how the surrounding forest seemed like something out of a story. Alfred listens patiently, nodding with a smile as you ramble on, your nerves momentarily forgotten.

Eventually, Bruce and your caseworker finish their conversation. She kneels down to give you a final goodbye, squeezing your shoulder reassuringly before she leaves. Now it’s just you and Bruce. You turn toward him, shy but hopeful, ready for something—a welcome, perhaps. But his expression is unreadable, his gaze indifferent, almost detached. The excitement bubbling in your chest fades, replaced by a quiet pang of disappointment.

Oh. You thought he’d be happier to see you.

Bruce studies you for a moment, his expression unreadable and a bit cold. It feels like he’s assessing you rather than welcoming you. Your excitement dims, but you keep your smile, hoping maybe this is just his way, that he’s just not sure how to be around a kid like you yet. After all, he’s the head of this massive family, and you’re a brand new addition. Surely he needs time to warm up. But as he looks you over, he finally speaks, his tone polite but distant.

 “Alfred will show you to your room,” he says. “You’ll have some time to settle in, and we’ll talk more in the morning.” Then, as if you’re not really there, he glances back at Alfred. “Make sure she’s comfortable. And let the others know we’ll have dinner in an hour.”

With that, he turns and walks away without another word. You stand there, still holding your bag, feeling the weight of disappointment settle on you. You’d imagined this moment so many times—meeting your father, being accepted into his home, his pack. You hadn’t expected hugs or anything too mushy, but something warmer than whatever the hell you just experienced. Maybe a smile, or even a nod that felt like you mattered. Instead, all you’d received was a look that barely acknowledged you.

Alfred clears his throat softly, pulling you from your thoughts. “Right this way, young master,” he says with a gentle smile, gesturing for you to follow. “I’ll give you the grand tour tomorrow, but for now, let’s get you settled in your room. It’s rather lovely, if I may say so.”

You nod, mumbling a quiet, “Thank you,” as you follow him up the grand staircase, each step echoing in the vast, empty silence of the manor. Despite the opulence and luxury surrounding you, it feels a bit lonely and cold, a stark contrast to the warmth and comfort you’d imagined this home would have. Alfred tries to fill the silence, pointing out various rooms along the way: the library, the kitchen, the sitting room. You nod along, doing your best to listen and absorb it all, but your thoughts keep drifting to Bruce’s indifferent expression, the way he hadn’t even looked back.

Finally, Alfred stops in front of a door and opens it, revealing a spacious bedroom with a large bed, a cozy armchair by the window, and shelves lined with books, even a stuffed wolf on the bed, clearly placed there just for you. The sight tugs at your heart—a small attempt to make you feel at home.

“I hope it’s to your liking,” Alfred says softly, watching your reaction.

“It’s—it’s really nice. Thank you,” you reply, setting your bag down by the bed. You glance around, taking in the details, wondering if Bruce had anything to do with the setup. But something tells you it was probably Alfred who made sure it was welcoming.

He nods, giving you a gentle pat on the shoulder. “Dinner will be soon, and you’ll meet the others then. Don’t worry too much; they’re quite an interesting group, but they’ll warm up to you soon enough.”

You smile back at him, grateful for his kindness. Alfred excuses himself, leaving you alone in the quiet room. You sit down on the bed, running your hands over the soft blanket, still clutching that little bit of hope you have left. Maybe Bruce just needed time to adjust. Maybe, in his own way, he was trying to accept you.

But as you think back to the way he looked at you, you can’t help but feel a pang of uncertainty. You wonder if he’ll ever see you as part of his pack—or if you’ll always be an outsider in this place that you’re supposed to call home.

[Hey guys! This was a super short prologue, I promise the other chapters will be at least 2000 words. Anyway, I want to say that this story will be DARK. Like I'm being so serious rn, like this shit is messed up so please be careful!!! I'm talking about potential cannibalism...still, hope you enjoyed this!]

[mushies-stories]

Naruto boys

The first time cockwarming them

Naruto, Shikamaru, Gaara, Kankuro X GNReader

Warnings: SMUT 18+! cock waming, pet names, no use of Y/N

The first time Cock warming them

SMUT BELOW THE CUT

Naruto Uzumaki: sweet and loving S/O

Naruto wouldn't have thought of the idea himself but you, after a night out with some friends and while gossiping, you were introduced to a new idea. So a few nights later while naruto was late coming home you went to seek him out, not wanting to fall asleep without him.

You walked into his office late at night, the room lit only by the desk lamp. He was hunched over his paperwork, eyes tired but face smoothing when he sees it's you. He gives you an apologetic look as you approach his chair. “Sorry sweety, late night. I promise I'll be home soon.” he said.

You shook your head and smiled sweetly, you slid your pants and underwear down and kicked them aside. You brought a leg to slide across his lap so you could straddle him. “No need, ill by just a second.” you as you undid his pants and slid your hand into his boxers and slowly started to pump his cock tell you felt it begin to harden.

His body tensed as he watched you. “Baby, wait a minute I gotta finish these papers.” he said. 

You leaned down and kissed his jaw. “I know.” you said, finally pulling him out so his cock could stand erect. You adjust to you hovering over him with the tip pressed against your entrance and slowly sank down. 

You both let out  gaspy moans as he filled your tight hole. When his cock was fully nestled in you he let out a shaky breath. “So tight, how am I supposed to focus?” he chuckled, feeling your walls flutter around him. 

You yawned and leaned into his chest. Closing your eyes you snuggle into him. “I'll relax in a moment.” you said with content sigh. “Take your time.” you whispered, already dozing off into his warm heat surrounding you. 

He smiled down at you as you were breathing steadily and you finally relaxed around him. In all honesty it took him longer to get his work done, having to take a few breaks to just feel you pulse around him. You got a nice nap in until he was finally done, and finally ready to fuck you properly.

Shikamaru Nara: bratty and needy S/O

He was trying to nap, laying on back with one arm behind his head and the other resting on his stomach when you creeped into the room. You hadn't gotten to spend much time together lately and you were starting to feel lonely. He heard you approaching and opened one eye to look up at you as you stood above him. “Shikamaru, you've been busy all week.” you said with a pout. 

He hummed and closed his eyes again. “Just a little nap.” He said.

You huffed and went to straddle his lap, he didn't even react. You leaned over his body, pressing yourself against him and littering gentle kisses to his neck and jawline. He sighs and opens his eyes, narrowing them down at you. “Cant even wait thirty minutes?” he said with a yawn. 

You shook your head and sucked the skin below his ear while grinding down against his now semi-hard cock. “I’ve been waiting, I cant anymore Shika.” you whined. 

He let out a soft sigh and rolled his eyes. “Aright alright, take your pants off brat.” he said.

You complied and stood to take your pants and underwear off while Shikamaru shimmed his pants down enough to let his cock spring free. You smiled and went back to stadling him, looking down at him with a happy smile. He chuckled and nodded his head once. “Go on.” He said.

You wasted no time in lining up with your entrance and sliding the tip in with a content sigh. Your eyes closed as you slowly sank down on him. Before you could bring yourself back up him his hands were on your hips, slamming you down so his cock was filling you completely. “Shika!” you whined at the sudden harsh movement. 

He just smirked and brought a hand up to the back of your neck and pulled you down to lay your head on his chest. “Nap first, then ill fuck you how you want.” he stated, holding you firm and close. Both hands came to wrap around your back as you sank into him with a drafted grumble. 

He might be a brat himself, but he kept his word and when he woke to find you fast sleep on his chest he couldn't help but hold you sweety against him as his cock slowly started to fuck you awake. 

Gaara: sweet and loving S/O

It was early, much earlier than anyone else would be awake and gaara was sitting in his office, head leaned back and eyes closed. He looked tired and really you couldn't tell if he ever even came to bed since he had a tendency to sneak in late, normally after you fell asleep.

He didn’t notice you standing in the doorway until he heard the click of it shutting and saw you walking over to him with a small smile and tired eyes. “Been here all night?” you ask, coming to stand next to his chair and immediately he pulls you between his legs and hugs your waist so his face is hidden in the fabric of your shirt. 

He nods. “There was just so much paperwork and planning.” he mumbles against you. 

Your hands rake through his hair. “Maybe… I can help you alleviate some stress while you finish up?” you offered, voice hushed and a little uncertain. Gaara was still tricky when it came to intimacy and you didn't want to push him. So you thought you'd at least offer. He looked up at you, waiting to hear what you had to offer. “Sit back for a moment, okay?” you said and he complied, leaning back so you had room to undress your lower half. 

“Darling…” it almost sounded like a warning but even he didn't seem sure of it. You continued and moved to grab the waistband of his pants. You looked up at him with reassuring eyes and he shifted so you could guide his cock free. A small huff ame from him when you sat back in his lap and pushed the tip to your tight hole. “I have work my love.” he stated, holding your hips still above his already hard cock.

You smiled sweetly and kissed his cheek. “I know, let me help?” you said, trying your best at puppy eyes. He chuckled softly and allowed you to sink down on him. He closed his eyes briefly as he felt his cock sink into your tight hole but held his sounds in while you let out breath gasps when you felt he was fully in. Once you were comfortable in his lap you brought your arms up to wrap around his shoulders and leaned into him. “I'll be right here waiting for you to be done.” you said, kissing the side of his neck. 

You waited so patiently for him to finish his work and when he was finally done he made sure to thank you. 

Kankuro: sweet and needy S/O

He was working on a puppet late at night, repairing it in time for a mission coming up. You had woken in the middle of the night feeling particularly needy only to find your bed empty and your heart feeling similar. your fingers grasped for Kankuro but found nothing. You knew where he probably was and rushed down the stairs to his workshop. All you wore was his shirt and a pair of underwear as you bare feet hit the cold ground.

His head snapped up when he heard the door creek open. You stood peering your head to see where he was. you looked so sweet and tired and his heart leaped when you finally followed the dim light to his work space in the corner of the room and your eyes finally found him. “It's late.” He said. 

You smiled sheepishly and stepped into the room and closed the door behind you. You padded over to stand opposite him on the other side of his work table where puppet pisces and bits were all strung about. “I know, I just… I wanted to see you.” you practically whispered. 

The faint blush creeping on your cheeks told him you wanted something more than just to see him. He smiled sweetly and set the part he was working on down. “That so sweetheart? You just wanted to see me in the middle of the night?” 

You looked away for a moment before looking back to Kankuro. You knew that wasn't the only reason but you didn't want to bother him while he was working. “Mhhmm” you hummed. 

He nodded with a small smirk. “Would you like to help me while I work baby?” he asked.

Your eyes gleamed at his words. “Can i?” 

He smiled and leaned back. Your eyes followed his movement as he slid a hand down the front of his pants and started to pump his cock as he looked at you with soft eyes. “Take those off and come here?” he asked, motioning to your pants with his free hand.

He freed his cock as he watched you discard your pants and underwear and came around to stand between his legs. He guided your hips with both hands to straddle his thighs while his cock pushed into your little hole. You whimpered softly into his neck while you clung to his chest. “sshh, relax for me.” he soothed, finally bottoming out in you. “Now, you keep me nice and warm while I work okay?” he said, picking his part and tools back up. 

You let out a soft sigh and nuzzle yourself into him, perfectly content and stuffed.

[gaysindistress]

The two times Simon almost killed Price and the one time Price almost killed Simon

First off yall blew up this post and I’m actually speechless 🥺 I’ve also hit 1,000 followers (SKDJJWDJJEJW) and will be working on the surprise fic shortly. I was working on some birthday posts and wasn’t expecting it to happen so quickly so might be a bit before it comes out.

Simon’s masterlist

1. When Simon was injured

Price called you to let you know that Simon was injured during an op and he would be fine but you should come get him from the base. Simon never lets you go to base and you knew if he was conscious, he would have an absolute fit and get a cab home. He’s a very private person and after what happened to his family, he’s not about to let you get anywhere close to work if he can help it.

You obviously know this but it’s Price who called you, not Simon. Price ends the call with ‘see ya soon, Mrs. Riley’ which simultaneously breaks your heart because you’re not his wife but also warms it. It also doesn’t give you a choice; you’ll be there whether you drive yourself or Price brings you.

The captain doesn’t tell anyone that you’re coming or who you are when you get there. He meets you at the entrance and escorts you in. Like a father might, he keeps you close to him as the two of you make your way across the base and to the clinic where Simon is resting. He wouldn’t let them send him off base to a hospital so they did what they could and he’s, of course, being difficult still.

The moment the others see you, their eyes widen because who is this? Why are you with Price? Why have they never seen you before? Are you his daughter? His niece? His controversially younger girlfriend? Who are you and why are you here of all places? You definitely scare the shit out of them let’s be real. You pull up looking like this and you’re with their captain.

You have an aura of unwavering confidence and a resting bitch face that rivals Ghost’s. They don’t get the chance to pester you because Price is quickly shoving you into the room where Ghost is at and giving them all the death stare.

Simon does a double take when he sees you with wide eyes but doesn’t make any other indication that he knows you. The poor nurse who’s filling out his release paperwork is petrified and he looks like he’s about to pass out. You narrow your eyes at Simon because clearly he’s been his usual asshole self and that’s why this nurse is about to pass out.

You give the nurse a small smile as you tell him your name and that you’re who’s going to be taking care of Simon. The man’s knees almost give out from relief and he word vomits all of the information you’ll need while handing you the paperwork in a shaking hand. You thank him and wait for him to leave before you finally look at Simon.

He’s got his mask on like you expected but you can still read his eyes. He’s pissed.

All you say is “You were shot.”

He nods once.

“I’m your emergency contact.”

He nods once again.

“You don’t get to be mad that I’m here. If anyone gets to be upset and act like a child, it’s me. I’m the one who had to find out from your captain that you got hurt so badly that you’re being put on temporary medical leave for 6 weeks.“

He doesn’t nod this time. He just stares. Eventually he sighs and looks at the ground.

“‘M sorry.”

You sigh as well and give him the hug he’s craving but won’t ask for. You press a kiss to the top of his masked head and rub his back.

“It’s alright, my love.” You murmur into his sweaty mask. “Let’s go home, yeah? The dogs have been driving me mental.”

Although it’s covered, you feel him smile. You feel it in the way his body relaxes under your touch and his arms tighten around your waist.

“Let’s go home.” He agrees.

The others are absolutely gobsmacked when they see you walk out with Ghost. He’s the same as he always is; guarded and on defense but there’s a softness in his eyes when he glances at you talking to Price. They have half a mind to ask about you but one sharp glance from Ghost keeps their mouth shut. Whoever you are, you’re the single most important person in the world to him and they’d be complete fools to even breath in your direction.

2. When Simon was home

Let’s just say that Simon was in a compromising position when Price called him to meet at the base in an hour.

Usually you’re the one in the restraints that are always on your bed butttttt you managed to convince him to switch places. Tonight he’s bound by the leather cuffs on his wrists and ankles. His eyes are squeezed shut and his head is buried into the pillow behind him. You’ve been teasing and edging this poor man for close to an hour. Kitten licks and light squeezes are all you’ve given him as you worship his strong body. Each scar on his body has been caressed, licked, and kissed by you. Every inch of him has been loved and adored by you…

expect for his cock.

You’ve been purposely ignoring it until you finally take him into your mouth. His release is fast approaching as you bob your head up and down. He’s moaning and whimpering. Then his work phone rings. The stupid phone he only uses when he’s working goes off and he’s never been so angry in his entire life. You pull off of him and he lets out the loudest groan known to man. You giggle at him as you fish it from the night stand and press it to his ear as you place yourself in his lap.

“Price the fucking king could be dead and that still wouldn’t be a good enough reason to call me right now.”

3. And the one time that Price almost killed Simon.

Ever since Price called you to base, he’s been keeping in touch with you. He’ll text you and call you every now and then to make sure you’re okay. Obviously you are; Simon is your…partner and you can handle yourself but he still likes to check in on you. He feels responsible for Simon as he’s his captain but also for you since you’re his whole world.

Moving on… the first deployment that Simon went on was rough. You were anxious as you usually were but this time was worse. He was hurt. He had been shot and even though he’d healed just fine, you couldn’t help but worry about him. On the other hand, Simon’s nightmares had made a comeback and he’d been waking up in cold sweats. One time you swore you saw Ghost rather than your adoring man. You’d told Price about it and made he swear to not say a damn word to Simon. He agreed but kept a watchful eye on his Lieutenant.

On the second night of their deployment, Price had gotten a rather short and strange text from you that read “keep him safe please.” It felt like a given that he did but something about this felt wrong. He called you and it took until the last ring for you to pick up. You were sobbing, hyperventilating, and wheezing into the phone when you answered. He couldn’t get a single coherent word out of you for the first 10 minutes but when he did, he saw red.

Apparently Simon had lost his mind and decided that it would be better if you weren’t together. You’d told Price that he told you some bullshit lie about how he wasn’t feeling it anymore and you should go find someone better. The captain was more pissed off that his Lieutenant had lied and immediately found him the moment you’d stopped crying.

“Riley!” Price shouts across from the landing strip. That sends alarm bells off in Simon’s head. It was Ghost or Lieutenant, never his name.

Price stalks over to him and grabs him by the front of his vest, not caring that everyone can see what’s going on. “You call and apologize to her right now, ya hear me? It’s unacceptable for you to lie to her like that and I should have your balls for it. You fix it before she does go off and find herself a better man.”

Simon can’t argue with him. He knows that what he did was wrong and Price is well within his right to act on his threat. Hell Simon was about to do it himself if it meant he could rewind time and take back what he said.

However he is still Lieutenant Ghost in this moment. He narrows his dark eyes at Price and slowly takes his hand off of his vest. Nothing but lethal silence fills the space between the two men. Bystanders are growing increasingly desperate for action, practically yipping like starving hyenas for a scrap.

“You have 30 seconds to get out of my sight.”

Price steps away and Simon disappears into the darkness. The hyenas howl in hunger around them, chattering about the unfairness of it all.

Simon calls you the moment he’s locked away in his room. He spends the next hour apologizing profusely to you and damn near begging you to wait for him. It’ll be a few weeks until he’s back but please…just wait for him.

[exhaslo]

Kinktober Day 4

(Massage Therapist!Miguel x Reader)

Summary: You were a workaholic and had finally decided to take everyone's advice and get a massage. You just didn't know what kind of massage you had signed up for.

Warning: MINORS DNI, SMUT, handsy, fingering

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

Why couldn't everyone just leave you alone? Working was the only thing that really kept you distracted and going. Working made you feel like you were doing something, but no, everyone just called you a workaholic with stiff shoulders.

Everyone just had to butt their nose into your business and forced you to get a massage. So, now here you were, sitting a suspicious looking massage pallor that you knew nothing about. You just looked it up and this popped up.

"Hopefully it's not a scam," You muttered since you had gotten the most expensive option on the menu.

"(Y/N), please follow me." The receptionist spoke.

Work never stressed you out like this before. You were so nervous that someone could mistake you for a boulder. You were first taken to a large shower room and asked to wear a robe after cleansing yourself.

"I shall be outside waiting. Please help yourself to our many options of scents and body washes."

"Ah....Thank you."

You felt like you were in a spa. Once you had cleaned yourself, you put on your favorite fruit smelling scent and wore the robe. The kind receptionist then took you to get your feet and hands taken care of first before the actual massage.

Honestly, this was feeling amazing. Who knew that you could be treated this good. Perhaps you should indulge yourself with a massage every month.

Finally, you were laid down naked on the table. A thin blanket covering your body as you waited for the massage therapist to enter. This was making you nervous.

"Good Evening," A thick, yet gentle voice spoke as they knocked before entering, "My name is Miguel, I will be taking care of you today." He hummed. You gulped and glanced at him,

"H-Hello. I'm (Y/N)."

"Hm?" Miguel raised a brow, "May I ask a question, (Y/N)?"

"S-Sure."

"Do you know what you signed up for?" Miguel questioned, looking over the paperwork you signed, "It's quite hard to find this option online. Yet you filled this out saying your shoulders and lower back are all what hurt."

"Um...I just kept clicking until I saw this."

"I see," Miguel let out a soft sigh as he approached you, "Then allow me to explain-"

You let out a soft groan as Miguel started to massage your legs. His touch was so gentle, yet firm as he pressed into your calf. Knots you didn't know existed were slowly being released.

"This special was made by the other massage therapist here, for some of our more...special and wealthy guests. This massage gives the guest the highest level of pleasure."

"Mhm~" You shivered in delight as Miguel's hands stroked up your leg.

"I normally don't ever take part in this, but I figured this was a mistake. So, I will keep going until you tell me to stop. Alright?" He whispered.

You still weren't sure of what Miguel was saying. You were too busy enjoying his touch. Closing your eyes, you focused on his hands. How comforting and large they were. Feeling his fingers stroke up your leg, you shivered once more as he reached towards your exposed pussy.

You eyes widen slightly as you felt his fingers stroke your entrance. A small gasp escaping your lips as Miguel's thumb rolled around your clit. His body slowly towering over you as the blanket started to fall, exposing the rest of your naked body.

"You're so tense. Someone as lovely as you should relax." Miguel hummed, watching you tremble.

This pleasure was something you had never felt before. Miguel's body kept your legs spread open as his fingers rolled around and pinching your clit. His other hand groping and massaging your breast, causing you to become a mess.

You couldn't even make eye contact with Miguel. You weren't sure if you wanted to tell him to stop. Moaning softly, you squirmed as Miguel's fingers started to poke your entrance.

"We'll start with one," Miguel hummed.

As he entered the first finger, you gasped and whined. His finger was thick. His thumb still rested against your clit as he started to curl and wiggle his finger inside of you.

Your walls clenched against his hand, wanting to feel more. This was new and enjoyable. Shuddering softly as you arched your back, you whimpered and moaned as Miguel pressed against a lovely spot.

Just as you felt heat forming, Miguel inserted another finger. Your body grew hotter as that pool of heat started to burn. Your moans started to get louder as Miguel thrusted his fingers inside of your wet cunt.

"Oh? How naughty....Getting off from a stranger," Miguel teased softly as he kept pumping his fingers inside you.

You gasped and shuddered as Miguel pressed against that sweet spot once more. That pool of heat exploded and washed over your body, sending you into a state of relief and pleasure.

"Ah~"

"And we'll stop there for now," Miguel chuckled as he wiped his fingers, "I'll make sure to reimburse you, of course, since it's far too soon for you to have the full treatment, but I will still massage the rest of your body."

You were slowly calming down, relaxing from that pleasure session. Glancing at Miguel as he washed his hands before working on the rest of your body, you pouted softly.

"Um...if...if I come again...Will I...be able to enjoy more?" You felt almost nervous to ask. Miguel just smiled as he worked on your arm,

"Why don't I take you out on a date first, then we can talk about more sessions."

"T-That sounds nice."

At least those sessions were free.

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

Hope you all enjoyed!

Kinktober 2024 Masterlist

[mrrharper]

Neighborhood Association

Cale put down the last box and sighed. He could now officially state that he has moved. He looked around the living room and felt proud of himself, after working tirelessly for almost a week to turn this space into a home. The same couldn’t be said about his feeling towards the place his new home was located in.

He was forced to move after the rent in his last apartment was hiked by 25%. This was more than he could handle, so he decided right then and there that the would find a cheaper place to live. He went on Zillow and it didn’t take long before he found the place he was now living in. Gorgeous building, well-kept outside, spacious inside, with a stupidly low rent. He called the landlord first thing the following day. He signed the lease a week after that.

It was only then that his friends came up to him and made him realize what was the place he was about to move into. Pinewood, an outer suburb and the only Republican stronghold in the entire metro area. This was bad news for the young gay software engineer basically addicted to the queer city life. But he had already signed all the paperwork and he decided he would make this work. Each time he felt like this might not have been the best decision he reminded himself that even with the longer commute he was saving a lot of many. Yeah, maybe the town screamed “All-American conservative suburb”, but this was the price for financial stability, Cale told himself.

Cale heard a knock on the door. He walked up to the entrance and opened it. He was surprised to see no one in front of his house, not even a single person walking along the street. Then he looked down and saw a leaflet. Oh, that’s what this was about. He picked up the piece of paper and started reading as he went back inside. “The Pinewood East Neighborhood Association welcomes you in our area. We are glad you’ve decided to find your special place within our prosperous community and invite you to become an active member. Just scan the QR code and fill the form. FIND YOUR ROLE IN PINEWOOD.” Well, that’s nice, Cale thought to himself. He sat down on the couch and scanned the code on the leaflet. The form was pretty standard, for the most part. The only unusual part was the part where he was asked about hobbies. It was not an open question and Cale was forced to choose for only a couple of options. He rolled his eyes, who designed this form? He picked “morning runs and fitness”. He did try to get into he habit of running a year ago. And a year before running it was working out. So he guessed this was the option closest to the truth. He quickly finished filling up the whole form and sent it, quickly forgetting about the whole thing.

Two days later when he came back from work and walked up to his door he saw a package. He was surprised, he didn’t remember ordering anything. But as he looked closer he confirmed that the box was addressed to him. There was just one small typo, Caleb instead of Cale, but he was used to it. He picked the package up and took it inside to his living room. He then opened the box and saw a letter on top. It turned out it was a welcome package from the neighborhood association. Cale thought it was a nice gift, but didn’t care to see what was inside the package itself. The only thing he took out was the baseball cap with the association’s logo on it. When later that day he went out to run a few errands he put it on, because it was the closest to his hand as he was leaving the house. He came back late and after getting out of his clothes he went back to bed. He forgot to take the cap off.

Caleb slowly woke up. He stood up and stretched his arms. He felt a weird ache throughout his whole body, and he didn’t know why— damn, that sesh at the gym yesterday was rough. But that ache was the sign that it was working. He turned his head and watched his arm as he flexed his biceps.

He came up to his closet for something to wear. But he only saw a few faggy shirts and some tight pants. What the fuck, he thought. But then his mind was instantly covered by a weird fog and he walked into the living room and picked up a big box standing on the floor. He opened it and took out a black compression shirt and a pair of gym shorts. He quickly put them on and immediately felt better, his muscles filling up the clothes perfectly.

Right after, Caleb looked up to see a pride flag hanging from one of the walls and a feeling of disgust filled his fog-covered head. He jumped up to the wall and grabbed the piece of fabric, then threw it on the ground. Then he came back to the box and took out a ‘thin blue line’ flag. That fit him way better and he quickly put it on the wall.

He heard his phone ring. He took his phone and answered.

“Yeah?”

“Good morning, this is Cathy form the Pinewood East Neighborhood Association. Is this Cale?”

“Ugh” Caleb grunted. Stupid woman. “It’s Caleb.”

“Oh, of course, my apologies” Cathy answered, but she didn’t sound like she was really sorry. “I’m calling to ask a few questions before we accept you as a full member”

“Sure, whatever” Caleb’s interest in the phone call was dwindling fast and he started flexing once again, watching his biceps go up and down.

“What’s your profession?” Caleb’s mind, completely covered by fog, didn’t know what to say.

“Ughhhh, soft…ware… was it… wait a minute—”

“Is it security guard, Caleb?”

“What?” He did not expect the woman to be such a psychic. “Yeah, yeah, security guard, duh.”

“Great, thank you Caleb, and one more question. There’s a group that wants to organize a Pride event in out beautiful city. How would you respond to such a proposal?”

“Hell no, we don’t want no queer near our place, isn’t that right? Bunch of degenerates” Caleb barked at the phone.

“I understand Caleb, and we agree, you’re absolutely right” The woman on the other side sounded almost… proud? “I won’t hold you any further, you have a job to go to. I’m glad you are fulfilling your role within our community. See you soon.” And then Cathy ended the call. Caleb shrugged, he wasn’t sure what was the deal with all this neighborhood shit, but why should he care? He was here for the low rent and the job that allowed him to spend half the day at the gym.

As he walked from the living room to the kitchen Caleb stopped in front of the mirror and started flexing. Damn, these guns of his looked impressive. And fuck, his chest was like a damn pillow, so sick. He watched his pecs flex in the mirror, moving under his compression shirt. These muscles were ready to smash degenerates and grab any pussy he wanted. When he was ready to leave the house, driven by instinct he went back to the box and picked up a pair of sunglasses he then immediately put on. Yeah, now he was ready to go to work and fulfill the role he was assigned in Pinewood. And brah, it felt fuckin’ great.

[skywalkerslvt]

Cockwarming Leon

❥Pairing: Leon Kennedy x F!Reader

❥Summary: You cockwarm Leon while doing paperwork.

❥CW: 18+, smut, unprotected p in v, oral sex (leon receiving), cockwarming, sub!leon, degradation (reader calls leon slut/whore), praise, dacryphilia (crying), orgasm delay/denial, 1.5k words

❥a/n: Very rushed fic, not proofread, hope you enjoy! BTW my asks/requests are open so PLEASE send something in! I would love some new fic ideas <3 pics are from pinterest

After a long day at work, you trudged through the front door of your apartment, the weight of unfinished paperwork still lingering in your mind. Despite the exhaustion gnawing at your bones, the thought of spending time with Leon lifted your spirits. With a mischievous glint in your eye, you sought out your boyfriend, finding him lounging in the living room, eyes on the television. You approached him on the couch, returning the soft smile he gave you as you straddled his thighs and nuzzled into his neck. 

“Hey, you,” he sighed contentedly, wrapping his arms around you while arching his neck back, giving your searching lips more access. “How was work?” 

You hummed against his neck. “Long. Missed you,” you replied between kisses, teeth lightly scraping against his skin. You relished in the way his breathing hitched in response, hips rolling up slightly to gain friction against his quickly hardening cock. 

With a teasing smile, you stood, dragging Leon with you by the collar of his t-shirt, gently pushing him towards the desk chair. You kissed him softly, then knelt between his spread legs, running your hands up his tense thighs. You placed a kiss over the tent in his sweatpants, maintaining eye contact with him as he bit his lip in anticipation. 

You tugged at the waistband of his sweats and boxers, pulling them down his hips and letting them pool at his ankles, freeing his cock from its confines as it slapped against his lower abdomen. You licked a long stripe from the base to the tip before taking him fully into your mouth, swatting his hands away as he reached to place them on your head. Leon’s eyelids fluttered closed as he let out a strained moan, lost in the feeling of your warm, wet mouth around his pulsing dick. 

Your mouth was off him just as fast as it was on him, your hand replacing your mouth as you gave his wet cock a few pumps before getting up and reaching for your bag, pulling out your paperwork. A puzzled expression painted Leon’s flushed face as you placed your paperwork on the desk and began removing your pants. 

“What–What are you doing?” He panted out. Now naked from the waist down, you situated yourself onto his lap, taking his cock in your hands and guiding it to your dripping cunt, flashing him a coy smile over your shoulder. 

“I have to finish up some paperwork,” you replied sweetly, “But you can be a good boy and sit still while I do this, can’t you?”

With a playful glint in your eyes, you positioned yourself over his lap, guiding his throbbing cock to the entrance of your slick folds. Leon's breath hitched at the sensation, his hands instinctively reaching out to grasp your hips, but you shot him a warning look, halting his movements. "No touching, Leon," you admonished softly, your voice laced with authority. "You don't get to fuck me until I say so."

Leon whimpered, but placed his hands at his sides obediently, a shiver running down his spine at the commanding tone of your voice. With a teasing smirk, you sank down fully onto his cock, relishing in the way he filled you completely, stretching you deliciously with each inch. 

A low groan spilled from Leon’s lips as you fully seated yourself onto his cock, your velvety walls clenching around him in a tight, welcoming embrace. Leon's hands clenched into fists at his sides, his restraint palpable as he struggled to remain still, his cock throbbing with need.

You were seemingly uninterested, working diligently on your paperwork as Leon’s needy whimpers filled the room, his arousal mounting with the tightening of your walls around his dick. With a wicked grin, you deliberately clenched around him, eliciting a gasp of pleasure from his lips as he fought to maintain his composure.

“God, you really are just a needy slut, aren’t you?” you teased, giving him a mischievous smirk over your shoulder. “Be a good boy and wait just a little while longer, and then you’ll get your reward, yeah?”

Leon nodded frantically, his self-control hanging by a thread as he surrendered himself to the overwhelming pleasure coursing through his veins. He was being so good for you, and if you were being honest, you didn’t know how much longer you could hold out with the way his cock was filling you so well. 

As you turned back to your work and clenched down on him once more, every shred of self control Leon had was thrown out the window. It all just felt too good, and he couldn’t help but roll his hips up, his needy cock seeking the friction it needed. You let out a surprised gasp, unprepared for the intrusion of his thick head against that sweet spot deep inside your cunt. As you dropped your pen, Leon knew he was in trouble. 

He felt a sharp slap on his thigh, your eyes narrowing at him as you ridiculed his behaviour. “You greedy little whore. Are you that much of a desperate slut that you can’t listen to simple instructions?” 

Leon’s eyes drifted to the floor in shame, but you wouldn’t accept that. You grabbed a hold of his face, forcing his eyes back to yours. “I’ll let it slide this time, but if this happens again, you won’t get to fuck me. Understood?”

“Y-yes ma’am! I’m s-so sorry–won’t happen again. Just p-please let me fuck you.”

"Good boy." You gave him a teasing smile and shifted slightly in your chair, purposefully clenching around him. A choked whimper escaped his lips, and you felt a surge of satisfaction at the sight of him struggling to maintain control.

Turning your attention back to the paperwork, you picked up your pen and started to write. Each deliberate clench of your muscles around him elicited a new wave of shivers and gasps. You could feel his desperation growing, the tension in his body building with each passing second.

Minutes ticked by as you continued your work, only occasionally glancing down to see Leon's face contorted with need, tears spilling down from his eyes. He was doing his best to stay still, but you could tell he was on the verge of breaking.

Without warning, you clenched around him harder, making him cry out softly. His breaths were becoming more erratic, and his body trembled as he tried to hold back. "P-please," he begged, his voice a strained whisper. "I can't... I need to..."

You leaned down, your lips brushing against his ear. "Not yet, Leon. Be patient. I just have one more thing to do" You kissed his temple gently before returning to your paperwork, leaving him trembling beneath you.

Leon's breaths came out in ragged gasps, his body trembling with anticipation and need. Tears continued to streak down his cheeks as he fought to hold back his impending release, the desperation evident in every strained movement. He was completely at your mercy, his arousal and obedience to your commands intertwined in a tangled web of pleasure and restraint.

Finally, with a final flourish of your pen, you set aside your paperwork and turned your full attention back to Leon. His eyes were filled with a mix of desperation and longing, his entire being consumed by the need to release the tension coiled tightly within him.

You leaned in close, your lips brushing against his ear as you whispered softly, "You've been such a good boy for me, Leon. You've earned your reward."

With that, you began to move, rolling your hips in slow, deliberate circles as you rode him with purpose and intent. Leon's breath caught in his throat, a choked sob escaping his lips as he surrendered himself to the overwhelming pleasure washing over him.

His hips thrusted upwards, meeting the rolling of your hips as he chased his pleasure. He knew he wouldn’t be able to hold on for very long, but in that moment all he cared about was cumming. 

As you felt his release approaching, you quickened the pace, your movements becoming more urgent as you chased your own climax. The tension in the air was palpable, the anticipation building to a fever pitch as you both hurtled towards the edge of bliss.

And then, with a final, desperate cry, Leon found release, his body convulsing with pleasure as he spilled himself inside you. The feeling of his hot seed filling you pushed you over the edge, your own orgasm crashing over you in a wave of ecstasy.

You collapsed against each other, spent and breathless, the only sound filling the room the echo of your racing hearts. With a gentle touch, you cupped his face, brushing away the tears that still lingered there.

"Are you okay?" you whispered, your voice filled with concern as you searched his eyes for any sign of discomfort.

Leon nodded weakly, a soft smile gracing his lips as he reached up to caress your cheek. "I'm more than okay," he murmured, his voice husky with emotion. "That was…amazing."

A warmth spread through your chest at his words, filling you with a sense of contentment unlike anything you'd ever known. Wrapping your arms around him, you held him close, relishing in the closeness you shared.

[rileyslibrary]

Exhausted and in the middle of a week-long field exercise, you seek comfort and visit Ghost in the command tent.

———————————————————————

You step into the command tent, letting the entrance flap fall quietly behind you. The only light illuminating the place is a small hanging lamp above the worktable, filled with maps and scattered paperwork.

Your eyes gradually adjust to the dim interior, and your focus settles on the back of the figure before you. Ghost leans over the table, absorbed in a discussion over the comms about the field exercise’s next steps.

His leg is crossed in front of the other, and he glances over his broad shoulder as he senses your presence. He raises his fist, silently signalling for you to wait until he’s finished.

However, you’re not one to obey such commands from him; he knows that all too well.

You drag your weary feet across the ground, and the sound of rocks and dust echoes softly in the confined space. The lieutenant motions with his palm for you to move quietly as he continues the conversation with his comrades. This time, you decide to comply.

You walk cautiously and approach the workstation, closing the distance between you. Although behind him, you can see him better now; his head is lowered over the map spread across the table. He listens to the soldiers on the other end of the line, briefing him on safety protocols, emergency procedures, and potential hazards for tomorrow. He nods and murmurs the occasional “mhm” in response.

You place your thumbs into his pants’ belt loops and gently pull yourself closer to him. He doesn’t budge. You exhale through pieced lips, releasing the tension that had been building up, and nestle your face between his shoulder blades. You take a long and deep inhale, breathing him in. That’s the only scent you want to fill your lungs with right now—not the bitter odour of gunpowder nor the dry breeze of the fields—just him.

A stray wind ruffles the tent’s fabric from the outside, and he stiffens up. His head turns towards the source of the disturbance, and his hand retreats from the table to rest on your back as if protecting you from the outside.

“It’s alright,” you whisper into his back, “just the wind.”

He relaxes, shifting his attention back to the comms. His hand migrates from your back to your forearm, gently urging it out of his belt loops. He lifts it to his lips, kissing your hand beneath the balaclava he wears. He sets it against his stomach and holds it there. You follow his lead, repeating the gesture with your other hand and wrapping yourself around him, intertwining your fingers.

He delivers the final instructions over the comms and signs off. He straightens up.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he murmurs, yet still holding your wrapped hands around him.

“You shouldn’t have let me in,” You reply.

You feel his right hand moving, grabbing a pen and writing something on the map. “It’s not as if you ever ask for permission,” he remarks.

You take another deep breath into his back, followed by an audible sigh.

“What’s wrong?” He asks.

“Nothing,” you reply. “Just tired.”

He puts the pen down, lifts his right arm, and you slide beneath it. He hugs your shoulder, and you rest your head on his chest. You both look at the worktable in front of you.

“What’s all this?” you ask.

He shrugs and kisses the top of your head. “You know what they are.” He replies, his voice muffled by your hair.

“I don’t wanna do tomorrow.” You frown as you gesture at the map. “It looks... chaotic.”

His hand shifts from your shoulder to rest on your waist, gently guiding you until you stand between him and the table. You look up into his sleep-deprived, bloodshot eyes. He, too, is tired.

“Nobody does,” he replies, “but we have to, yeah?”

You nod and brush your fingers against his chest. He plants one final kiss on your forehead, then taps your hip twice with his hand.

“Off you go,” he commands. “tomorrow will be a long day.”

You pout and grumble, but he doesn’t back down. You have no choice but to yield to his authority. You walk towards the exit and lift the tent’s flap.

“Can I stay with you tonight?” You venture.

He shakes his head. “Too many eyes, love,” he says, looking over his shoulder. “Wait until we’re back at the base.”

You sigh softly. “I miss you.” You confess.

He turns his entire body towards you as he leans against the work table. The hanging lamp reveals his eyes; there’s a smile hidden within them.

He nods. It’s his way of saying ‘Me too,’ and that’s all you need. He may not voice affection openly, but he doesn’t have to. You understand each other in ways words could never express.

He extends his hand towards you, palm facing down. He makes a small, subtle wave with his wrist, insinuating that you’re standing in the middle of the entrance with the flap open, making yourself an easy target to spot for whoever passes by.

You snap back to reality, excuse yourself, and exit his tent. You make your way towards your own, longing for the moment you’ll finally be reunited at the base.

———————————————————————

[purplecoffee13]

Been in a nerdy H mood so maybe he’s got a crush on his co worker who is the complete opposite of him on the outside yet they both have so much in common! He’s not necessarily “smooth” but the reader finds it charming and sweet.

Ah yes, love me a nerdy Harry! Here you have it! I think it turned out cute, but I hope you like it as well!!

Wc: 1.7k

Warnings: none, just Harry being an awkward cutie!

It was a Monday morning. A dull prospect for anyone with an office job, but Harry found himself to be quite excited at the idea of strolling into the office this morning.

His big fat crush on one of his co-workers, Y/N, was the main instigator of that cheeriness that he brought into the office, along with a box of doughnuts for his fellow colleagues. And yes, it may also have been a ploy to talk to Y/N.

Harry wasn't the best at communicating. No, scratch that. Harry could be great at communicating... business plans. Feelings, however? Nope. Big disaster.

There were strings in his brain he'd need to pull to hold a good flirty conversation but they seemed to be just out of reach for him, which was quite unfortunate because it's not like he had his looks working against him.

Harry knew he wasn't ugly. Plenty of times, very beautiful women had come up to him. He often times was surprised with the beauty of these women approaching him. His mates always called him the 'most handsome one', and he did work out a lot to keep himself healthy. So yes, he could say he was well groomed.

And he'd hook up regularly. With women he'd meet at a crowded bar or a dark night club. Interactions that required little talking is where he strived. He got the standard dirty talk down, and since his confidence always skyrocketed in that department, it was the only kind of conversation he could hold. Then again, that might also be because the women he'll talk to are too fucked out of their mind to say anything.

Long story short, Harry was great, until he liked someone. So, instead of being able to come up with some witty comment to kickstart a conversation, he was now walking up to his work crush with a chocolate glazed donut.

Y/N was hunched over her work, tapping her pen against the paperwork that she seemed to be completely entranced by. Harry stopped right next to her, and was suddenly filled with a terror that made him want to crawl back into the hole he came from.

He didn't get the chance to do that, though, as Y/N looked up and met his eyes just as he decided he was going to turn back around. She smiled at the sight of him.

"Hi." She greeted with her soft voice.

"Hey." Harry breathed, his heart racing like maniac, and forgetting why he was here again until he spotted the donut in his hand. Right.

“I brought you a donut.” He stated, reaching it out to her. Her eyes fell to the food in his hand, and she chuckled as she took it from him.

“Thanks.” She said as she put it on her desk before looking back up at Harry, waiting for him to say something else.

Something else… what the fuck should he say?!

“Uh— well, I brought them for the entire office. But everyone’s grabbing at them so I figured I’d bring you one before they… ran out.” His ramble slowed down near the end of the sentence, only now realizing how stupid he was sounding. He was to kick himself in the head! Maybe it’d knock some conversational skills into him, jeez.

“Thanks Harry, I appreciate it.” Y/N tilted her head slightly, taking her bottom lip between her teeth. Fuck, how could she possibly look so hot and sweet at the same time?

“N— no problem… so I, uh I should probably—”

“Hey, did you end up watching that mini series I recommended?”

Harry’s eyes widened. He hadn’t expected her to keep the conversation going for so long.

“Uh, yes actually.” He responded.

Y/N and Harry, despite it not seeming that way, had a shitload in common. They both loved the same books, movies and series. They were both obsessed with murder documentaries and they had a mutual fascination with women in jazz.

So when Y/N recommended this crazy documentary series about the Night Stalker last week, Harry immediately watched it when he got home. He stayed up until one to binge it entirely and was groggy the entire following day. But it was worth it.

In fact, every thing Y/N would rave about, he’d check out. He couldn’t help it. He wanted to understand her better, and since he didn’t know how to— well, you know, TALK to her, he took this weird route.

Y/N gasped happily. “Did you like it?!”

“It was horrifying.” Harry stated. “I loved it.”

Y/N’s face broke out into a wide smile, and she leaned over her desk to grab her phone before she got up to stand next to Harry.

“Oh, I also found this weird documentary about the titanic on YouTube. The quality isn’t very good, it’s like very old, but I’ve been wanting to watch it for ages and I couldn’t find it anywhere. It’s so interesting! They like— act it out and everything.”

Harry just stared at the excited woman next to him as she typed in all kinds of things on her phone. He only took his eyes off her when she showed the video.

“You should send it to me.” Harry said, already fascinated with the first 20 seconds she was showing him. He leaned in further, his body grazing against hers. When he felt her gaze on him, his cheeks turned pink. “Uh, via work-email, if you want—”

She let out a breathy laugh. “Or you could give me your number.”

Harry was sure he could’ve fainted. Oh my god, oh my god. He was properly freaking out, well, internally.

“Right, yes.” He said, sounding a bit absent from how shocked he was about her asking him his number. When he realized he must’ve not sounded too enthusiastic about it, he suddenly began reaching for his phone in his pocket. “Yes! Uhm, wait, let me unlock it.”

Y/N looked eager as he typed in his password, went to his contact app and handed the phone to her. She giggled as she typed in her number before giving the phone back.

“You’ll have to text me first.” She said, and he nodded, immediately going to the chat and sending a ‘hey’. He let himself sigh in relief at how good this was going for the short second her phone dinged and she was concentrated on putting Harry in her contacts. That went away the second Y/N pointed the camera of her phone to him.

“What are you doing?” Harry laughed nervously.

“Giving you a contact photo.”

“And you want to do that now?”

“No time like the present.” She peered from behind her phone. “Now, smile!”

Harry smiled, at her ridiculousness that was, but he smiled nonetheless. Y/N let out a happy squeal as she turned the phone around and showed the picture to Harry. He grinned at the picture, but inside he was freaking out a bit. Jesus, did he really look at her like that? She was going to figure out he was crushing on her if he kept staring at her like that. Stupid fool! Did he have to be so obvious.

“Beautiful.” She said so lowly it was almost a whisper as she put in the contact photo. Harry’s heart skipped a beat. He couldn’t fucking handle this anymore.

“Y/N.” He piped up before he could lose his nerve. Y/N hummed, looking up at her. “Would you like to go on a—”

“Styles! Stop chitchatting and get in here! The meeting is starting in three minutes!” Timmy, his co-worker cut off the question that Harry had been dying to ask for the past months.

“Shit. I have to go. Uh, have a good— I mean… erm, enjoy the donut.” He said and turned on his heels, racing to the meeting room. He was shouting profanities at himself in his mind. Fucking hell.

Enjoy your donut? Fool!

That was the only word he could think of that matched his personality well enough during the entire meeting. He didn’t catch any of what was said, but mindlessly nodded along anyway.

He sighed when he finally got back to his office and sat down in his chair. He whipped out his phone to put it on his desk, and his eyes flew to two unread messages from a number he hadn’t seen before. He unlocked his phone, and his stomach clenched at the sight of the messages.

Unknown Number

“Hi!”

“This is Y/N, by the way.”

Harry smiled, looking through his window to Y/N’s desk. It was how he noticed her in the first place. When she began working here, she was placed at that desk and Harry had received the luxury of being able to look at her beautiful face as many times a day as he wanted.

Harry

“Right, put you in my contacts.”

Harry wrote back, and suddenly felt a flash of boldness washing over him. Texting was easier, it wasn’t half as nerve wracking as standing in front of Y/N. He could think of his answers properly before saying them.

Harry

“I’m only missing a contact photo, though.”

A few minutes went by, and Harry was done starting up his laptop when his phone screen lit up again. He clicked on the message, and was met with a picture of Y/N.

It was a selfie of her with the donut he brought her this morning. She had placed the donut in front of her mouth, showing off her breathtaking eyes.

Y/N

“Will this one do?”

Fuck yes it did.

Harry

“It’s approved.”

He peered over at Y/N’s desk and noticed her smiling as she texted something back. His stomach fluttered. He was all giddy over this.

Y/N

“I have some bad news for you though.”

Harry looked up at Y/N again, frowning. When their eyes met, he noticed that she still had that playful grin on her face, which broke out in a mischievous laugh before she began typing again.

Y/N

“I’ve decided to revoke your access to the Titanic documentary.”

Harry bit his lip, excitement coursing through his veins.

Harry

“Now that’s just brutal. How am I supposed to watch it, then?”

Y/N

“How about Friday night, at my place? :)”

Harry’s eyes nearly popped out of his sockets as he read the text. It knocked the wind out of him, and he had to remind himself how to breathe before even thinking of a response because he’d forgotten how to do it for a second.

He was so excited he could jump through a roof.

Harry

“That sounds like a very good solution :)”

If anyone is truly interested in that Titanic documentary, here ya go.

[lovrre]

Agreement Prt2

I wrote half of this to Need by pinegrove ♫

Art Donaldson x fem black reader

Prt1 here

Word count: 3k

Warnings: smuttt,unprotected sex, creampie,slight breeding kink if you squint. cursing (ofc) slightly domestic relationship (not with Art)and probably some other stuff.

Summary: Despite being engaged to one of the top and richest tennis players in the US, you feel unfulfilled. But everything changes when you transfer schools and meet Art Donaldson, who just can’t quit you.

Author note: I’m so glad I finished I was scared I wasn’t, but your comments gave gave me motivation. Thank you pookies 🫦 I like this one a lot more than the first one. Arts also very obsessed and in love in this one.

After twenty minutes, you finish your meal, alone. You decide to leave through a back exit to avoid the paparazzi waiting outside the hotel entrance. You stumble upon a narrow hallway and carefully make your way out, trying not to attract any attention. When you reach the entrance of the restaurant, you open the door and are greeted by a charming and seemingly empty establishment. The cozy yellow lighting, old pictures, and paintings on the walls, along with the white tablecloths and wooden woven chairs, remind you of an old Italian restaurant you and Art used to go to. You see moving in your peripheral and catch a glimpse of familiar golden locks.

You walk closer to see Art and Patrick sitting at a small square table with a vacant seat, you assume is reserved for you. Patrick with a full plate of food and Art without. "Patrick?" You question, your voice filled with suspicion as you creep towards the table. He looks back at the sound of your In voice, a smile forming on his face as he stands up, “What the hell are you doing here?” You ask, taken aback going in for a hug. Patrick returns it with a laugh before releasing from the hug slightly to look at Art.

“Ask him” You look between them confused. “I asked him to come here” Art states, adjusting in his seat. “Why?“ you ask clearly confused with the situation, “someone could see” you add your gripping the back of your chair almost afraid to sit down. “I bought the place out for an hour, it’s just us” Art reveals looking up at you. “You what?” you exclaim, a bit louder than you intended.

“I’ll explain everything in a minute, just sit” Art laughs, gesturing for you to sit down. You let out a sigh, reluctantly pulling out your chair. “Ok tell me what is going on” you say, slightly impatient. “We’ve got a plan for your marriage situation”, Patrick says, mixing his ice tea with his straw. “A plan?” you repeat, still confused. "Yes, a plan," Art confirms with a nod. Patrick takes a quick sip of his tea before opening a tan folder that he hadn't noticed before. “The private investigator dropped these off at the dorm the other day”, Patrick says, pushing the open folder towards you.

Inside were pictures of your fiancée , kissing all types of women. The worst part is, it was so obvious, he didn’t have a care in the world, every photo taken on different days in different settings. Outside, inside in the morning and at night, all different women.

You knew you shouldn't be upset, but you were, not because he was seeing other people behind your back, shit you were doing that same with Art, but it was the fact he acted holier than thou. That he continued to try and control you while actively putting your agreement at risk. “Wow…” you mutter.

Shuffling through the photos. “That’s not even all of them” Art says.

“Yeah… I accidentally left the other ones, but these are the most important ones. There’s also some paperwork underneath with names, time stamps and dates on stuff” Patrick ads. “How isn’t this everywhere?” You ask, furrowing your brow. “The investigator thinks he’s been paying them off,” Patrick says, taking a sip of his drink.

"Not that I don't want you here, but couldn't you just have faxed these over?" you ask, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, yeah... but then I'd miss the match," Patrick says with a grin, taking a bite of his food. "Plus, I would never miss an opportunity to help my best buds."

"Okay, so what are we doing with these?" you ask, holding up the pictures in confusion.

"We're going to spin it," Patrick replies, still chewing his food. "My plan," Art reminds him, "my bad," Patrick laughs, still chewing his food. You couldn’t help but smile, you’d missed the three of you together.

"We're going to spin it," Art repeats, making you smile wider. "Is this why you're training with my father?" you interject . Art nods in response. "Why didn't you tell me any of this last night?"

Art didn't say anything, a knowing smile spread across his face. Patrick looks between the two of you "freaks," he jokes, "Anyway... how do you plan on spinning it?" You ask, ignoring his comment.

“We lean into the infidelity, take a couple of photos of you crying, the two of you arguing, or something like that release them”, Art explains confidently.

“But… I don’t see how this stops us from getting married, it’ll just look like I got cheated on,” you say, scrunching your brow.

“We’re hoping this, plus me winning today, will be enough to persuade the media against him?”

“You believe you can win?”

“I do,” he nodded.

“Okay… I’m down.”

“Told you,” Patrick added, still drinking his tea.

“Are you especially thirsty or something today?” you ask, tilting your head slightly watching him slurp down his tea. A second one untouched, waiting for him.

“I am actually, thank you for noticing,” Patrick says with a big smile before taking another sip.
You notice Art's eyes drop to Patrick’s plate for a second time while you two are talking.

“You should eat.”

“What?” Patrick says, looking between the two of you who seemed to be having your own conversation. 

“No, I’m okay,” Art says, shaking his head.

“Mike had French toast for breakfast, I think you could have-“ you cut yourself off, looking down at Patrick’s plate. “Egg and sausage.”

“You guys aren’t talking about my food?” Patrick asks, slightly disturbed by your conversation.

“Patrick, I can buy you some more damn eggs,” you assure him as Art pulls the plate from under him.

“What just happened?” Patrick asked, looking around confused with no food in front of him.

Your phone rings, and you look down to see who it is. “It’s my Dad,” you inform, excusing yourself you answering the phone as you walk out of earshot.

The two of them watch your backside as you walk away. “She still looks good”, Patrick bites his lip, leaning over to Art.


“Careful, ” Art warns.


“What? you guys can joke about but I can’t?”


“Exactly”, Art laughs, plucking him on the head.

~~~~

With a dig, the elevator door opens, releasing you to your floor. You walk to your room, opening the door with your key card. Mike is packing stuff away in his duffle bag, getting ready to see your father. You don’t acknowledge him walking past him into the bedroom,leaving the door open. You sit on the edge of the bed carefully taking off your heals, you stand up and unzip the back of your dress with ease. The dress gracefully falls into a pile at your feet leaving you in only your underwear. You step over your dress and begin looking through your suitcase located in the closet. The sound of footsteps causes you to look up to see Mike in the doorway watching you.


“Where are you going?” Mike asked, leaning on the door frame slightly. You don’t answer right away looking for your dress under your neatly folded clothes. “There’s a press meeting with Art Donaldson's team, My Dad thought it’d look good if I’d came ” you say, moving more clothes around. “You didn’t come to mine” Mike states still watching you search.

“You didn’t ask me to” you responded, pulling out a light pink dress from your suitcase. There’s a beat of silence as Mike watches your actions "and you need to change for this press meeting?” Mike asks, raising an eyebrow. "No, but I want to” you say, standing up. When you see mike's eyes roaming up and down your body, you suddenly remembered you were only in your underwear. 


“Can you turn around or something” you ask, scrunching your face up in disgust. “I’ve seen more than this” Mike chuckles before obliging and turning around. You roll your eyes by stepping into your dress. “I’m sorry for how I acted this morning, I’m just stressed,” he admits.

" Really?," you hum, pulling up the straps of your dress.

"I don't want to be that guy," Mike responds, still facing away.

"But you are constantly being that guy..." you mumble, but Mike hears you. 

"I won't anymore. I want this marriage to work y/n, I.”


You release a heavy sigh at his word. “You can turn around now ” You announce zipping up the side of your dress. Mike turns around and watches as you sit back on the edge of the bed putting on your heels. “You’re still going to that thing?” Mike asks with a confused expression. “What about that conversation gave off the vibe that I was no longer going?” You say pulling your stiletto over your heel.


Mike goes silently for a moment watching you walk toward the bathroom. “Like you need more makeup?” Mike scoffs. “Be honest with me are you fucking him?” He asks from behind you in the doorway while you remove a bit of smudged lipstick. “are you serious right now?” You ask staring at him through the reflection in the mirror. “I’m not a fucking idiot, I saw the way you looked at each other, and I get the feeling that’s wasn’t your first time meeting” 


“Only god knows what you’re doing at that college” you can’t stop your self from laughing. “I think you’re projecting” you say walking past him towards the door, picking up your purse on the way. “Where the fuck are you going?” Mike calls out, following you. 

You swing the door open and step out into the hallway. Mike trails behind and tries to grab your arm to pull you back inside. “DONT TOUCH ME!” You yell yanking your arm back. “C’mon Don’t make a scene” Mike says looking around. 


“You have some fucking nerve, you know that? Your friend Isabel came up here earlier looking for you, I’m guessing you guys have a lot of fun In Detroit” you say with a smile. “When were you in Detroit again…my birthday? You ask rhetorically, Mike goes silent for a moment before responding.
 "I don't know what you're talking about," he says, trying to keep his voice down. "You don't?" you question. "What about Sarah, Kim, Kate, Alex? Do you not know them either?" Mike opens his mouth, then closes it. "Yeah…" you drawl, 


"they meant nothing to me... I just needed to get it out of my system before fully committing. I want this to work, I want this to be real, y/n," Mike says, trying to corner against the door in a situation similar to the one you were in with Art last night.

"That's the dumbest shit I've ever heard," you respond, attempting to push past him. He grabs you again using his strength. You had forgotten how strong he actually was. “Last warning” you say looking up at Mike. he can tell by the look in your eyes you’re serious, he doesn’t know exactly what you’re going to do but something in his gut said don’t test it. “Let. Go” you repeat one more time before a voice interrupts you.

“Is everything ok?” Patrick asked from the end of the hallway. "Yeah, everything's fine," Mike reassured with a smile, gently releasing his grip on him. "We'll continue this conversation later," Mike says, forcing a tight-lipped smile as he presses the elevator button. "No, we won't," you smile back with a wave, as the elevator door chimes and he leaves. "Are you okay?" Patrick asks, walking up to you. "Yeah, he wasn’t going to hit me, he knows better," you laugh. "I was actually more concerned about you hitting him," Patrick jokes.

“I got the picture though” he smiles, showing you a camera and clicking through the images of your altercation with Mike.”These are good, you should take them now, I’ll call Art and tell him I’m on the way” you say, pulling out your phone.

“I’ll miss the game” Patrick states with a slight pout.

“Not if you hurry.”

~~~~~

"I won't keep you much longer, just a few more questions," the female interviewer says, holding the microphone up to Art. "Was the training for this upcoming match particularly challenging?" Before the interviewer could finish her sentence, Art was shaking his head. "Not necessarily, different for sure, but not harder."

"As of now, can you confirm or deny the rumor that you have started working with Olympic Coach Dylan Y\L\N?" the interviewer asked, lifting the mic slightly closer to his mouth. "Ummm," Art hesitates, accompanied by a smile. "I think I can. Yes, Dylan is my new coach."

"So you and your opponent today have trained under the same coach?" the interviewer asks, scrunching her brow. "Yes, we have," Art nods. "One more question, is there any special woman in Art Donaldson's life right now?" the interviewer asks with a smile. The sound of camera clicking intensifies, catching Art's attention. Intrigued, the interviewer turns around as well. "She is beautiful," Art says absentmindedly, staring in the direction where you're coming from. You give small waves to friends as you walk in. "That's your opponent's fiancé... and I guess also your trainer's daughter?" the interviewer says, looking confused and turning back to face Art.

"Really?" Art asks, faking shock with a dazed expression. "Yes," the interviewer nods. "I mean.. I meant what I said, She is beautiful," Art said with a laugh, causing the interviewer to join in. His eyes never leaving you. "Does your coach know you have a crush on his daughter?" the interviewer joked, chuckling. "He might now," Art says with a laugh before giving a quiet , "Nice meeting you," as he walks away out of frame.

A short while later, you find yourself reaching for a bottle of water from a nearby table, inserting one of those adorable green straws they had. Just as you're about to take a sip, a voice catches you off guard from behind. "There you are," Art says, a smile lighting up his face as he jogs towards you. As he approaches, you can't help but notice how close he gets, almost too close.

"You're not exactly great at keeping secrets, huh?" you chuckle, taking a step back. Art smirks, "Can't two friends have a conversation?" Peeking over your shoulder at the ongoing interviews, you reply with a straw in your mouth, "We're not even supposed to be friends. You're supposed to be my Dad's client, or from what I heard your crush." You laugh, recalling a question from one of the interviewers. "You're going to get us caught," you whisper quietly into the straw.

"I understand. I can't stand next to my trainer's daughter," Art nods, "Orrr, my opponents, fiancé, but maybe can I stand close to my crush?" Art asks.

 “I think you could, yeah” you nod trying to keep the smile on your face. “Crush it is,” Art says with a smile taking a step forward, yet still maintaining a slight distance. “Did you get the pictures?” Art asks his eyes falling down to your lips. “Yeah, we got them," you confirm with a nod, unable to hide your smile when you notice his lingering gaze. “So we’re in the clear?” his eyes still fixated on your lips, as if he's ready to pounce. "Not yet," you laugh, taking a step back. "We have to wait for them to go to press." Art throws his head back with a strained laugh, and you can't help but watch his Adam's apple bobs up and down. You hadn’t realized until that moment how much you wanted him, it was an all consuming need.

“Just one day," you murmur, unsure if you're speaking to Art or yourself. "Just one day," Art echoes, his eyes now fixed on your neck, his finger brushing your curls away. You watch as he exhales shakily, looking at the fading hickeys on your shoulder, barely hidden by makeup. "Just one day," you remind, removing his hand from your chest. "Just one day," Art repeats, tearing his gaze away to look back up at you. "Your car is here, Mr. Donaldson," a man in black approaches and announces.

“One minute” Art says, gesturing for another second. The man nods in acknowledgment and walks away. “Come with me?” Art asked. “I don’t think that’ll look good.” You alluded to the countless people with cameras surrounding you.

“I couldn’t care less” Art says, shaking his head slightly. “I’d kiss you right here, if you’d let me ” Arts words catch you off guard, and you take a deep breath to try to steady your heart beat. 

“This planning stuff is more for you than me, so you can feel more comfortable. And I’m perfectly fine doing it,’s just …” he trails of his eyes falling back down to your lip. "Alright, I'll come," you rush out, convincing yourself it's to prevent him from kissing you right then. But deep down you knew you just wanted to be near him. You follow closely behind.

Art swiftly enters the car before you lean up, capturing you with a kiss. Before you could even fully step inside, his hand gently grasped your cheek, drawing you closer to his lips as he guided you into the vehicle. Lost in the intensity of the moment, you surrender to the kiss. practically falling inside. The sound of the car door closing behind you brings you back to reality, but the kiss continues to deepen. Suddenly, the driver rolls up the partition, creating a sense of privacy.

A sense of responsibility tugs at you, and you reluctantly break the kiss when Art's hand starts to wander up your bare leg. "We can't," you whisper, "We don't even have a condom," you add, hoping the driver couldn’t overhear.


“You’re right” Art mumbles, sitting back against the seat trying to catch his breath. “ I lost myself for a second” Art laughs, attempting to slow his heartbreak. ”After the game I’ll come to your room” you nod, looking forward trying to gather yourself. “Don’t talk about that, talk about something else” Art says his voice coming out more strained. “Like what?” You turn around and ask. Your eyes landing on the strained erection in his pants. “Oh!” You say, snapping your head back forward. The familiar ache of your core comes back, and you have to bite the inside of your cheek in an attempt to control yourself.


Against your better judgment, you take another peak. His hard shaft still straining against the fabric, you could damn near see the veins on his dick. “Can I?” You ask in a voice barely above a whisper. “Y-yeah” Art replies with a nod agjusting in his seat. You rub your hand back and forth against the Arts bulge while listen as his breath becomes more and more ragged.


Art makes a low moan and that’s enough for you to begin unzipping his pants. Against his better judgment he stops you. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah” you nod breathlessly, fumbling with his pants, pulling them down until his dick springs free. When you begin pumping his shaft, he takes in a sharp breath which causes you to smile. You savor the feeling of his heavy dick in your hand, trying to combat the thoughts of his thick long length inside you. When Art's hips buck into your hand, you fold. “I need you inside of me”, Art opens his mouth to protest and then closes, watching as you bunch up your dress around your waist, pull your panties to the side and straddle him. He grabs your waist with one hand and lines himself up with your entrance with the other. 


You sink onto him with a little too loudly of a moan and Art does the same. Opening his mouth for a sloppy kiss, he doesn’t wait for you to adjust to his size, moving you up and down his dick by your waist. ”shit I-“ Art groans out a wave of pleasure hitting him.
“-I can’t go back to condoms” he moaned, scrunching his brow in pleasure. You laugh and Art quickly retaliates by slamming you hard down on him. You let out a loud moan reflexively using your hand, trying to pull off slightly.

Art moves your hand out of the way, holding you down on him by your waist. “I’m serious”, Art grows leaning forward for another kiss while returning to his previous, rhythm. His words cause you to squeeze around him, and he lets out another low ground throwing his head back, breaking the kiss.



“I’m not going to last much longer” Art says breathlessly. “Just a little longer baby” you coo, leaving kisses on his Adam’s apple down his neck. “You drive me crazy, you know that” you moan feeling his pace fastest. “I do?” you feel Art smile against your cheek. You nod, falling into the crook of his neck enjoying the feeling of him fucking into you. “I want you to cum in me” you whisper, kissing the crook of his neck. “Fuck” Art groans, throwing his head back again. “You’re going to kill me” he states with a strained laugh.


You feel your release building so you decide to taunt him. ”you don’t want to fill me up?” You ask innocently, removing your head from the crook of his shoulder. Look down at him with lust, filled eyes. “Don’t” Art warns, his grip on your waist tightening, “you don’t want to give me a baby?” You huff out trying to keep your voice steady literally feeling him in your stomach. “Fuc- shit shit shitttt” Art moans holding you down onto him filling you up with his cum. His moans echoed through the car, the poor driver. 


“Fuck,” Art states after a minute. “Yea fuck,” you laugh, leaving a kiss on his cheek. “I think I might have a breeding kink”. Art laughs, “Me too,” you say with a smile, leaving another kiss on his head. You feel him twitch inside you, and knowing Art, you knew he would be ready for round two in a minute. You try to get off, but he holds you tighter, keeping you stationary. 

“I want it to stick” he smiles. Oh his smile, you rolled your eyes. You loved him, you knew it now, and you had a feeling he did too. You had been lying to yourself pretending you liked you didn’t care as much as he did. But at that moment you knew you never wanted anyone but him.



You glance out the window to see you were seconds away from the stadium, and then you notice your father standing on the sidewalk. “Oh my god! MY DAD HERE” you say, scurrying out of Art's lap. Art looks out the window, seeing your father standing on the sidewalk expectingly. “Shit” Art huffs, sitting up slightly, pulling up his pants, you take a wet rag next to the champagne and quickly wipe the inside of your leg. You quickly fix yourself before rushing to wipe off any remains of your lipstick off his mouth with your hand.

"Oh no, do I have lipstick on my mouth?" you ask frantically. "Nope, all clear," Art replies with a grin, planting a quick kiss on your lips. "Art," you warn, settling back in your seat. "My bad," Art chuckles, getting ready to exit the car. The car come to stop and your dad Yanks open the door.

"Hurry up, we're late. Mike's already inside," your Dad urges, When he sees you, his expression turns puzzled.

"We were heading in the same direction, so we decided to ride together," you explain before he can say anything. Your dad eyed you both suspiciously. "Alright, let's go," he says, ushering Art into the building. You wanted to say goodbye or wish him luck, and you could sense Art wanted to as well but it would be just too obvious.

You step out of the car, rummaging through your wallet. You tap on the driver's window, and he rolls it down. "Sorry about that," you apologize, handing him a 100 dollar bill before heading into the building.

Once inside the stadium you sit next to your Dad’s team which was now also partially Arts team and somehow also Mikes. Your phone buzzes and look down to see a familiar unsaved number.

“I think your Dad on to us”

“What did he say?” you text back anxiously your fingers moving fast on the keys.

“Nothing really, but i think he knows”

“Did he seem mad?”

“Not really”

“That’s good” you send, letting out a sigh you didn’t know you were holding in.

“Good luck :)” you add before stuffing your phone in your purse . Almost immediately your phone dings and you pull it back out.

“You gave me enough of that in the car ; )” you can’t help but smile at his corniness.

“You’re nasty.”

“Not as nasty as you” you’re about to laugh at his message when you hear a voice directly behind you. “You guys are actually freaks” Patrick says with a laugh jumping over the seat so he was directly next to you. “I applaud you guys for staying consistent at least” Patrick says lightly hitting you on the shoulder. “Can you mind your business” you say rolling your eyes, stuffing your phone in your purse.

“Actually I’ve been minding you two’s business all day with no pay by the way” Patrick adds. “So I think I’ve earned the right to be a little nosy” Patrick says making a pinching gesture.

“So you delivered the pictures?”

“Yes” he responded with a nod

“Thank you” you express your appreciation, turning your attention back to the court.

“Do you think he’s gonna win” Patrick asks leaning in slightly, curious to your answer.

"I hope so, but I don't know. I haven't seen him play in a while," you admit with a weak smile, the reality of the situation sinking in. "I really hope he does win," you mumble.

Author note : GUYS FEEL FREE TO COMMENT I LOVE READING COMMENTS

[xiax]

#"will you eat me out?"

;feat. xiao, diluc, + itto/afab!reader

;cw. cunnilingus

a/n. i like comfortable intimacy don't look at me

all characters presumed to be 18+. minors do not interact.

! XIAO

you both got home late from a commission, getting caught in a thunderstorm and effectively getting soaked to the bone.

the second you both stepped into his room at the inn, you began stripping yourselves of your wet clothes.

xiao plopped on the bed, folding his arms under his head as he relaxed. you paused you toweling of your skin to gaze at him.

he was still nude, strong muscles flexing with every minute movement he made. the position of his arms made his biceps flex and you found yourself clenching your thighs together.

"hey, xiao...?" you ask, approaching him carefully.

he peeked a single eye open to glare at you, though it held no heat to it.

"i was just wondering," you climbed onto the bed beside him, jostling him a bit, "will you eat me out?"

he heaves a sigh and you can't help but grin. because even though he acts like it's an annoying request, the way his cock twitches lets you know that he thinks anything but that.

in a flash, he has you pinned beneath him and he's carefully slinking down your body, tossing your legs over his shoulders before absolutely devouring you.

he keeps his heated glare focused on your face when he dips his tongue down to your entrance, prodding at it until your hips jolt st the feeling. he ferociously suckles your clit, lapping at the bud and positively drooling all over your cunt.

you're a mess within seconds, squirming and crying out while you tug recklessly at his hair.

"oh! xiao!" you cry, not caring about how lewd you sound, "that feels so good! you're so good!"

"shut up," he snaps, but his cheeks flush red under your praise.

he doesn't give you a chance to tease him, however, because he's swallowing your swollen clit into his hot mouth again.

the sounds of him eating you out is wet and lewd, loud squelching and his heated gasps for air every time he needs breath.

he's diligent in the way he works you to orgasm, salivating at the mere prospect of having your sweet, creamy cum fill his mouth. his cock is throbbing, painfully hard but you requested him to eat you out and he was going to finish you before he even thought about his own selfish pleasure.

he moaned, a sympathetic sound that he had no control over, as your back arched, chanting that you were cumming and thanking him so prettily for getting you there.

he was on top of you in seconds, desperately sinking his cock into you. his reward for being so good to you.

! DILUC

you knew he was working, shut away behind the heavy wooden door scribbling away at his paperwork. he had been so busy lately, leaving the winery at the crack of dawn to go to town and coming back late at night to do some paperwork before crashing into bed while you were sound asleep.

you missed him more than you could articulate.

you missed his company, his voice, his touch.

you were frustrated, a heated ache settling in the core of your tummy as you imagined your handsome lover just next door. so close yet...he wasn't there with you.

you whined into your pillow, petulantly kicking your feet against the mattress as you tried to rationalize your needs to yourself.

was it fair to disturb him simply because you wanted him to touch you? what if he rejected you? you weren't sure if you could handle that embarrassment. but maybe you could convince him to take a break and indulge you a little bit!

you knocked a couple times upon his office door before opening it when he called for you to enter.

he was sitting in his chair, hair tied up in a messy high ponytail and his jacket discarded on the back of his chair, leaving him in the short sleeved shirt he wore beneath it.

you closed the door behind you and approached his desk, glancing down to see he was signing some papers.

"do you need something?" he asked, voice blunt but not unkind.

he sounded tired, maybe even a little bored.

"i just..." you feel your cheeks flush as you remember exactly why you were in here, "i just...wanted to check on you...?"

his pretty, red eyes flicked up, peering at you from under his heavy bangs, "is that all?"

diluc was far too perceptive for his own good. no matter how much you tried to hide your true intentions, he always managed to figure out what it is you wanted most.

"is something bothering you?" he asked, finally setting his pen down.

"n-not really..." you respond, fidgeting with one of the little knickknacks that sat on his desk.

he sat back in his chair, making it creak under the shift in weight, "come here."

you obediently round the desk until you come to stand right beside him. a single gloved hand winds around your waist, slipping under the back of your shirt to rub your back soothingly.

but really all it does it make you crave for him to touch you without the barrier there.

"you can tell me anything, you know that, right?" he asked, his concern more evident in the way he furrows his brows and frowns.

you whine, knowing you can't keep it in anymore.

"i-i just..." you flush and clear your throat, "w-will you eat me out?"

his eyes widen for a fraction of a second before a blush settles in his cheeks. but he doesn't even hesitate in pushing his chair back away from the desk and moving everything important out of the way.

"yeah, yeah, i can do that baby," he smiles, patting the empty spot on the desk, "been neglecting you lately, haven't i?"

"mhm," you whine as you settle into the spot made for you.

"i'm sorry, sweetheart," he coos, pushing the hem of the oversized shirt you stole from him up.

if he noticed how completely dripping wet you were, he didn't comment on it. instead, he just tugged your panties down and spread your legs.

the sight of your lover between your thighs had your heart racing.

"please, diluc," you beg so sweetly that it brings a smile to his face.

he dips down immediately, tongue sliding between your folds to find your clit. you keen, head faking back at the intoxicating feeling of him making you feel good after so long without it.

"oh!" you cry, hand tangling itself in his ponytail, tugging slightly to direct his tongue to the right spot you needed, "there!"

he grunted, eyes slipping closed before flicking his tongue over the sensitive little bud until you legs twitched over his shoulders.

"so good!" you cry, moaning unabashedly as your lover ate you out so well, "please, i'm so close!"

at that, he quickly sealed his lips over the bud, moaning when you harshly yank his hair. you topple over the edge embarrassingly soon, nothing but a trembling, twitchy mess on his expensive desk.

he releases your pulsing clit with a little pop and wipes his mouth with the back of his gloved hand.

"that was fast," he muses, grinning at the sight of you so messed up just from him suckling on your clit, "would you like more?"

"what about your work?" you whimper, letting him tug you to your feet.

"i can finish it later. let's go."

! ITTO

itto had a habit of being a tease. but it wasn't conscious he was just...touchy! his love language was physical touch. but unfortunately for you, you were always completely heart eyes for him that any measly touch from him had you skin setting ablaze.

a brief brush against your back as he scooted past you, cupping your hip when you reached to grab something high, lips against your neck in a display of fleeting affection — it all steadily got you to your breaking point.

the sight of your teary eyes had him jumping to his feet immediately. eyes wide and hands flailing desperately as he assessed your body for any injuries.

"what's wrong!?" he cried fretting desperately over you as you sniffle.

"itto...?" you whimper, "w-will you please eat me out?"

he freezes at your request, a thousand thoughts popping into his head.

"i-is that all?" he sighs, slumping against you, "i thought something was wrong!"

"you've been teasing me all day!" you whine, wrapping a trembling hand in his hair, forcing him to his knees. he easily let you, already feeling his cock twitching to life at the sight of you so desperate for him, "you've been mean!"

"ah...i didn't realize, little one," he coos, smoothing his hands up your thighs, talented fingers easily stripping your lower half, "i'll make it up to you just like you want."

the position wasn't ideal but he couldn't deny that having you over him, holding your shirt out of the way and staring down at him as he slowly licked your needy little cunt, was doing something to him.

his tongue swirled over your clit, long nails biting into your hips as he held your steady when you swayed at the pleasurable feeling of his hot mouth.

he was messy, letting your slick soak his face and letting his drool drip down onto the floor. but neither of you cared, all you cared about was using his tongue to get yourself off. and he was more than willing to offer it.

holding his tongue out, all you could see were the whites of his eyes as you ground against him. your clit was hard and pulsing as his slid along the wide expanse of his tongue.

you were so grateful for that oni tongue — it felt better than anything you could ever imagine.

startlingly soon, you were cumming. he held you steady, practically panting as he tongues your clit to help you though your high.

but if he thought you were done, he was sorely mistaken. because before your orgasm could even come to an end, you were resuming humping yourself against his face, crying and gasping as you overstimulated yourself into stupidity.

you were a dream after his own heart.

@xiax // do not modify or repost

[lvnleah]

008. | Leah’s return

word count: 1.8k

find the masterlist here!

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

January 24th 2024 | 29 weeks + 6 days.

“You’ll definitely be there tonight?” Leah asked, slipping her hands underneath your shirt from behind to rest on your bump.

You turned your head to place a kiss on her cheek, “Yes Le, I promise I’ll be there. I’m going to head to work, check on the bakery and then I’m meeting your Mum and Jacob.”

Tonight, Leah was making her comeback from her ACL. It was against Reading and after a long ten months, she was finally going to be back on the pitch. You were travelling up with her family while she was travelling on the coach with the team.

The excitement in Leah was unmistakable. “I can’t wait to see you in the stands,” she whispered, giving your bump a gentle rub before stepping back.

You smiled, “I’ll be the loudest one there, I promise.” You turned towards the kitchen, grabbing your bag and keys. “Now, I better get going before I’m late.”

Leah followed you to the door, her face a mix of excitement and nerves. “Don’t overdo it at the bakery, okay?”

You nodded, “I won’t. Just a quick check-in to make sure everything’s running smoothly. Besides, Maia has got it all under control.” You said, referring to the young girl who worked at your bakery and was currently running it.

She leaned in for one last kiss. “I love you. See you tonight.”

“Love you too,” you replied. “You’re gonna smash it tonight!”

The bakery was only a short drive away, and as you navigated through the familiar streets, your mind wandered to Leah’s match. The journey had been tough on her, both physically and mentally, and tonight she was going to be making her comeback.

Pulling up to the bakery, you saw the bustling activity inside. It was a small place, but it was yours and you loved it a lot.

You checked in with Maia and sorted some paperwork, you quickly brainstormed a few sales ideas with Maia before you went on your way.

The next stop was Leah’s mum’s house, where you joined her and Jacob for the journey to the stadium.

“Ready to cheer for Le?” Jacob asked as you stepped out of the door, “She sent me a list of your favourite snacks right now for the drive, they’re in the car.

“Ready as ever!” you laughed, “You better not steal my sweets!”

“Everything went well at the bakery?” Amanda asked.

“Smooth as always. Maia’s a lifesaver.”

She nodded, pulling you into a warm hug. “Let’s get going then. We don’t want to miss a moment of Leah’s big night.”

The drive to the stadium was filled with chatter and laughter, you and Jacob bickered like siblings, everyone was buzzing with excitement. As you arrived and found your seats, the energy in the stadium was electric. Fans were pouring in, and the atmosphere was just the same as usual.

You settled into your seat in the box, Jacob on one side and Leah’s mum on the other with the rest of her family scattered around to you. As the teams started to warm up on the pitch, you scanned the field, your eyes searching for Leah. When you finally spotted her, your heart swelled with happiness. She looked focused, determined, and ready to give it her all.

Soon, the warm ups were over and both teams headed inside. Your phone pinged in your pocket, you smiled once you saw it was Leah.

Le 💕: please come see me quickly? x

You: be there in two seconds! x

You excused yourself and made your way down to the tunnel where the players' entrance was. The stadium buzzed around you, but your focus was solely on getting to Leah.

As you approached, a security guard let you through with a nod and a smile. You navigated the narrow corridor, the hum of excitement palpable. Finally, you spotted Leah standing near the entrance to the changing rooms. Her eyes lit up when she saw you.

“There’s my girl,” she said softly, wrapping her arms around you as she placed a kiss on your cheeks.

“Are you ready?” you asked, looking up into her eyes, searching for any signs of nerves.

She nodded. “I am. I’ve worked so hard for this moment. Just needed to see you one last time before I go out there.”

You placed a hand on her cheek, your thumb brushing lightly over her skin. “You’re going to be amazing, Leah. I know it. We all know it.”

She smiled as she rested her hand on your bump, “He’s lively tonight! Must be excited to see his Mumma play.”

“He’s definitely having a party,” you laughed, “Now go out there and show them what you’re made of.”

With one final kiss, you stepped back, giving her a reassuring smile. Leah took a deep breath, nodded, and turned to head into the changing rooms.

As you made your way back to your seat, you felt the anticipation build. The stadium lights brightened, the announcer's voice echoed, and the crowd’s excitement surged as the teams were introduced.

You settled back in with Leah’s family, clutching your bag of snacks that Jacob had dutifully packed. The roar of the crowd grew louder, and when Leah’s name was called, the noise was deafening. You stood, cheering as loud as you could, feeling your baby kick inside you as if he was sharing the excitement.

“Is she alright?” Lia asked, leaning from her seat to talk to you from behind.

You nodded, “Yeah, she’s just a bit nervous and wanted to see me. If I’m perfectly honest I think she just wanted a kiss.”

Laura laughed, shaking her head, “She’s so in love with you.”

The match kicked off, and it wasn’t long before Arsenal scored. Goals came swiftly, one after another, and by the 60th minute, the score was 4-0 in Arsenal's favour. Caitlin had scored in the 23rd minute followed by Stina in the 35th and again in the 45th and finally Laia in the 51st. The crowd was ecstatic, nerves bubbled up inside of you knowing Leah would soon be on the pitch.

When the fourth official held up her number for her to come on, the stadium erupted in applause and cheers. She high-fived Beth’s hand, who was also coming on, before exchanging a quick hug with Caitlin and then Jen.

You leaned forward, gripping the edge of your seat as you watched Leah take her position on the field. It was a moment you had both been waiting for. She looked calm and ready to play, you felt completely different however as nerves continued to build up inside.

Minutes passed as the game resumed its fast pace. Leah moved quickly, her touches confident and like she’d never been away. Even her leadership skills were evident after being out for so long.

Then, in the 80th minute, the moment you had been waiting for arrived. Sabs passed the ball to Leah who kicked it up the pitch to Beth. The ball sailed over and landed perfectly at Beth’s feet, giving her the chance to slot it into the back of the net. The stadium erupted in cheers, and you jumped to your feet, tears of joy streaming down your face.

“Did you see that?” Jacob yelled, his face beaming with joy.

Leah’s teammates mobbed her and Beth in celebration, their joy mirroring yours. Her smile was wide and she looked shocked at her assist. She looked up into the stands, and you knew she was looking for you.

You waved, hoping she could see how proud you were. She gave a small, discreet wave back, her eyes locking onto yours for just a second before she was pulled back into the game.

The final whistle blew with the score at 6-0. The crowd erupted in applause and chants, celebrating both the team’s victory and Leah’s return. As the players made their way off the pitch, you could see the exhaustion and elation on Leah’s face. She had done it. She was back.

After the match, Leah spotted you and ran up to the box, her face beaming with a mixture of relief and joy.

“You were incredible!” you exclaimed, throwing your arms around her.

Leah hugged you tightly, whispering in your ear, “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

You pulled back, “I’m so proud of you, Le.”

Leah kissed you quickly before moving onto her mum, “Alright, mum?”

Amanda pulled her baby close, “I’m so proud of you, bubba!”

Leah took a deep breath as she held onto her mum. “Thanks, Mum. It feels like a dream.”

After a few more hugs and words of congratulations for her family, Leah turned back to you, her hand finding yours. “Let’s go home,” she said softly, “I’m going to get changed then I’ll meet you out the front?”

You nodded, “Sounds perfect!”

Leah headed back down and got changed before heading out the front to meet you. As you made your way out of the stadium with Leah and her family, you felt your baby boy kick again, almost as if he was celebrating too. You looked over at Leah, who was walking beside you, her hand never leaving yours. She caught your gaze and smiled.

“He’s going to be a footballer, I think,” Leah said, placing a hand on your bump.

“Just like his mum then?,” you replied, leaning into her.

Amanda and Jacob walked a few steps ahead, giving you both a moment of privacy. As you reached the car, you felt a wave of exhaustion wash over you, but it was a good kind of tired, the kind that comes after a day filled with joy and excitement.

The drive home was quiet, the kind of comfortable silence that comes with being surrounded by family. Leah’s hand was warm in yours, and you could feel her contentment radiating off her. It had been a long journey to get here, but she had made it. You both had.

When you finally reached home, Leah helped you out of the car, her movements careful and gentle. “Come on, let’s get you inside,” she said, her voice soft.

You followed her into the house, the familiar warmth and cosiness welcoming you back. Leah guided you to the couch and you sank into the cushions with a sigh of relief. She sat down beside you, her hand still holding yours.

“I’m so proud of you, Leah,” you said again, looking into her eyes.

She smiled, leaning in to kiss you. “I couldn’t have done it without you,” she repeated.

You kissed her back, feeling the weight of the day melt away. “We’re a team always,” you whispered.

Leah nodded, “Always.”

As the night settled in around you, you closed your eyes, feeling the love between you and Leah. It had been a night to remember, one that you would carry with you always. And as you drifted off to sleep in Leah’s arms, you couldn’t help but feel proud of her.

[bat-mom-writer]

Beneath the Cowl

Reader(wife) X Bruce Wayne(husband)

Summery: Bruce finds out that you aren't afraid of the scary Batman. So he tries to scare you.

Note: It does get a little dark at one point, it's Bruce trying to scare reader as to why you should be afraid of him.

If you're more into being scared of the batman and want some fear comfort, check out End of Terror.

(I do NOT own any DC characters)

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

"Mom, are you ever scared of dad?" Tim Drake, the youngest of the bunch, looked up at you from under his thick lashes as he sat in your office, surrounded by the organized chaos that was your paperwork.

You paused, your pen hovering over the contract you were reviewing. You studied Tim, curious as to why he asked such a question. "Why would I be scared of him?" you replied, keeping your tone neutral.

Tim fidgeted in his chair. "Well, you know, because he's Batman."

You couldn't help the slight smirk that tugged at the corners of your mouth. You leaned back, your gaze softening. "Bruce is many things, Tim. But when he's with us, he's not Batman. He's your father, and he's my husband." You set your pen down and folded your hands in your lap. "But to answer your question, no, I'm not scared of him. Not in the way you're thinking."

Tim's eyes grew wide. "But he's so… intense. And he fights all those bad guys."

You nodded thoughtfully, rising from your sit and stepping around your desk. "That's true. But he does that to protect us. To protect Gotham." You reached over and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "And when he's with us, he's just Bruce. He's the man who reads bedtime stories and makes terrible dad jokes."

Tim looked skeptical. "But when he's Batman, he's… like, super intimidating. Doesn't it scare you?"

"Nope, not one bit," you said, your voice firm and steady, a knowing smile playing across your lips. "You see, when you know someone as well as I know Bruce, you understand that the Batman persona is just a mask."

Tim tilted his head, intrigued by his mother's perspective. "But what if he forgets to take it off? What if he's too in the zone, you know?"

You chuckled, your eyes sparkling. "Oh, honey, let me tell you a little secret." You leaned closer, as if sharing a treasure trove of knowledge. "When Bruce tries to be all intimidating around me, I just think he's adorable."

Tim's jaw dropped. "You think Batman is adorable?"

You nodded, your laughter subsiding into a warm smile. "Yes, I do. Sometimes, when he's trying to be all brooding and mysterious, I just want to pinch his cheeks and tell him to lighten up."

Tim stared at you, his mind racing with the implications. "Does he know that?"

"Know what?" You asked, feigning innocence.

"That you think he's adorable when he's trying to be intimidating," Tim said, his voice filled with a mix of awe and bewilderment.

"Well, it's not exactly something I announce at the dinner table," you said with a wink.

Later that evening, Tim found himself stepping down the secret stair case leading to the Batcave, his heart racing. He had to see this for himself. As he approached the cave's entrance, he could hear the distant sound of Bruce working on some new gadget.

Tim took a deep breath and pushed the door open, only to find Bruce in his Bruce Wayne attire, not the Batsuit. He was bent over a worktable, his brow furrowed in concentration as he worked on a tiny, complex mechanism.

"Tim," Bruce said, not looking up from his work. "What brings you down here?"

Tim swallowed hard, his earlier bravado gone. "I… uh… I was just wondering around," he mumbled.

Bruce glanced up, his eyes sharp but not unkind. "Is there something you needed?"

Tim hesitated, unsure of how to phrase his question. "Dad… I heard something about mom finding Batman… you know, cute?"

Bruce's hand paused mid-turn on a tiny screwdriver, his eyes meeting Tim's with surprise. "What do you mean, 'cute'?"

Tim shuffled his feet, suddenly feeling self-conscious. "Well, she said that when you're trying to be all serious and scary, she thinks you're adorable."

Bruce's hand paused mid-air, and his head snapped up. "Adorable?" he echoed, his eyebrows shooting up in disbelief.

Tim nodded, a hint of a smile playing on his lips despite his nervousness. "Yeah, she said she wants to pitch your cheeks and tell you to lighten up."

Bruce stared at him for a long moment, the gears in his mind clearly working overtime. Then, to Tim's shock, he burst out laughing. It was a full, belly laugh that echoed through the cavernous space of the Batcave. "Adorable?" he said again, shaking his head.

Tim couldn't help but laugh too, the tension in his shoulders easing. "I know, right? It's kind of hard to picture."

Wiping a tear from his eye, Bruce stood up and ruffled Tim's hair. "You're telling me," he chuckled. "But your mother has always had a way of seeing through the tough exterior."

Tim's curiosity was piqued. "Does she ever tell you that?"

Bruce's laughter subsided, and he gave Tim a look that was a mix of affection and amusement. "Not in so many words, no. But I suspect she enjoys watching me try."

Tim's smile grew wider, and he nodded in understanding. "So, she's not really scared of Batman at all?"

Bruce leaned against the worktable, his arms folded over his chest. "Scared? No. Worried for my safety, yes. But not scared of me." He paused, considering Tim's words. "Well, I never really tried to be intimidating in front of her. I wonder…" His voice trailed off, and his eyes took on a distant look.

Tim watched him, the wheels turning in his head. He'd never seen this side of his dad—Bruce Wayne contemplating something so… so human. It was like catching a glimpse behind the mask, seeing the man beneath the legend.

"Well, that's all I wanted," Tim said, his voice light. He took a step back, the weight of his curiosity lifted.

Bruce's expression grew thoughtful as he watched his son retreat. He knew Tim had come looking for reassurance, but he hadn't expected his mother's secret to be so… illuminating. He watched as Tim's footsteps grew fainter until they disappeared up the staircase. The sound of the door closing echoed through the Batcave, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

He couldn't help but wonder if you truly wasn't intimidated by the Dark Knight. It was something he'd never considered before—his wife seeing through the mask to find something endearing in the creature he became at night. A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth as he set his tools aside and strode towards the Batsuit. It was time to find out just how 'cute' he could be.

In the master bed room, you sitting at your desk, going through more paper work. The room was shrouded in darkness, with only the warm glow of the lamp and your computer piercing through the shadows. The soft light cast a cozy ambiance, illuminating your focused face and the pile of files before you. The rest of the vast, opulent space remained hidden, giving the illusion that you were in a small, intimate study rather than the sprawling bedroom of Wayne Manor.

Without a sound, Bruce slipped in, his footsteps as silent as the night he prowled. He paused at the doorway, watching his wife with a fondness that filled his chest. You was so absorbed in your work that you didn't notice his presence—his cape blending with the shadows like a living part of the room. He approached you from behind, his movements deliberate and slow, savoring the moment of stealth.

As he reached your desk, he leaned over your shoulder, his chest plate brushing against your soft hair. Your eyes widened in the reflection of the computer screen, and you gasped, spinning around in your chair. You stared up at him, the surprise quickly replaced by a playful smile as you took in the sight of Bruce in the Batsuit, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

"You're supposed to be scared," he murmured, his voice low and intimidating, the same tone he used to strike fear into the hearts of Gotham's criminals.

You looked up at him, your smile growing wider. "And why's that?" you teased, your eyes dancing.

Bruce leaned closer, his cape billowing around him like a dark cloud. His gaze was intense, a look that could make the bravest of men quake in their boots. "Because I'm the Dark Knight," he whispered, his voice a threatening rumble.

But instead of the reaction he was expecting, you just tilted your head to the side, your smile never wavering. "Oh, Bruce," you said, your tone light and teasing. "You know that doesn't work on me."

Bruce felt a twinge of disappointment, but he couldn't help the amusement bubbling up inside him. "Doesn't it?" he challenged, his eyes sparkling with the thrill of the game.

Your smile grew, your eyes lighting up with affection. "Not when you're so cute."

Bruce's raised an eyebrow, "Cute?" he echoed, his deep voice rumbling with indignation.

You nodded, your eyes sparkling with mirth. "Adorable, even," you said, leaning back in your chair. "I mean, come on. That brooding, intense look of yours. It's like you're trying so hard to be intimidating, but all it does is make me want to pinch your cheeks and say 'aww'."

Bruce felt a warmth spread through him that had nothing to do with the suit's power core. He hadn't anticipated this reaction, and he found himself both bemused and a bit… deflated. He straightened up, his arms falling to his sides. "So, I'm not scary?"

Your eyes twinkled with affection. "Not to me, you're not," you said. "You're more like a big, fluffy teddy bear that roars to scare off the monsters under the bed."

Bruce's jaw tightened, his pride slightly bruised. He knew he was more than just a 'fluffy teddy bear'—he was the protector of Gotham, the symbol that struck fear in the hearts of the wicked. But he couldn't deny the warmth your words brought him, and the way your eyes softened when you looked at him like that.

"Fine," he said, his voice still deep but with a hint of playfulness. "If I'm not scary enough, I'll give you a reason to be intimidated."

Your smile didn't waver as you watched him pull out the chair in front of you and sit down. You knew him well enough to recognize that look in his eyes—it was the same one he got when he was about to try a new tactic. You waited, your curiosity piqued, as he leaned closer.

"What are you planning?" you asked, your voice low and playful.

Without warning, Bruce suddenly grabbed the arm rest of your chair and pulled you towards him, his eyes narrowing into a more menacing gaze. For a brief second, your heart skipped a beat, your eyes going wide with genuine surprise. You couldn't help the nervous laugh that bubbled out, a sound that was equal parts amusement and actual fear.

"Oh, you think this is funny?" Bruce growled, his voice deepening in the best impression of a villain he could muster.

Your laughter grew as you leaned back in your chair, the wheels squeaking slightly as you put distance between them. "Bruce, you're not fooling me," you said, your eyes sparkling.

But Bruce was already in the zone. He took your chin gently between his gloved thumb and forefinger, his eyes now a deadly serious contrast to the playfulness from moments before. He brought your face down close to his, his gaze boring into yours, the mask's eye slits narrowing dangerously. "I am the night," he intoned, his voice a gravelly whisper that sent a shiver down your spine.

You couldn't help the giggle that escaped your lips, your hand flying to your mouth to cover it.

"You're the night?" You repeated, your voice a delighted squeak. "Oh, Bruce, you're adorable when you try so hard."

"You should be scare of me," Bruce continued, his voice a gruff rumble that seemed to shake the very air around them.

"And why's that?" your asked, your curiosity piqued despite the playfulness of the situation.

Bruce paused, his grip on your chin tightening slightly as he searched for the right words. "Because," he said finally, his voice dropping to a dramatic whisper, Bruce went on, "I know more than fifty ways to take down a man with a paperclip, so you should be afraid of me. I could quickly and horribly take anyone's life. You should be terrified of me since I've lived with suffering my entire life and know how to deal with it, and hid it. If I ever so dared, I know the trick to letting all of my pain out and forcing it on you. Not just you, but all the people of Gotham. Finally, if I did let my pain take control, who could stop me? I know all the shortcomings of each superhero you can think of. They're all just a bunch of clowns to me, juggling justice with their fear of crossing the line. Like me. I know if I crossed the line, to be a god of everyone's life and death, I'd be feared. With the first death you would fear me. The second death, you would hate me. And by the time the third body hits the floor, you'd realize that you never knew who I was, what I could do. So, my dearly beloved, should you be afraid?"

Your smile slowly faded as you took in the sudden seriousness in his voice. Your eyes searched his, looking for the Bruce you knew beyond the mask. The room grew quiet, the air thick with the tension of his words. For a moment, you felt a true chill run down your spine, not from fear but from the gravity of his words. He was right; the man you loved had seen and experienced things that would break most people. But you knew he was also speaking the truth when he said he had control over his pain.

"Bruce," you said softly, your hand coming to rest on his forearm, the Kevlar beneath the suit's fabric feeling surprisingly warm and human. "We're not just talking about Batman anymore... are we?"

Bruce's grip on your chin loosened, and he looked away, his gaze drifting to the floor, with his hand falling beside him. "No," he admitted, his voice gruff. "I guess we're not."

You wrapped your arms around him, your embrace warm and unyielding. Bruce remained still for a moment, his body stiff and unyielding in the face of the unexpected affection. But then, ever so slowly, he leaned into you, his head coming to rest on your shoulder.

"You're not just Batman, Bruce," you whispered, your breath tickling the skin beneath his ear. "You're a father, a husband, a man with a heart so big it's a wonder it fits in that chest of yours." your felt his come under your arm and land on the your higher back, his grip firm but gentle.

"I know," he murmured, his voice muffled by the material of your shirt. "But sometimes, it's easier to hide behind the mask."

You pulled back to look into his eyes, your own filled with understanding and warmth. "I know it is, love," you said, your thumb brushing the edge of the mask. "But you don't have to hide from me. I see you, all of you. The good, the bad, and yes, even the 'cute'."

Bruce's gaze searched yours for any trace of doubt, finding only sincerity. He took a deep breath and reached up to remove the cowl, revealing his weary but handsome face. The mask came off with a soft whoosh, and for a moment, the room felt lighter, as if a burden had been lifted. Your eyes never left his, your smile gentle and accepting.

"I love you," you whispered, your voice filled with a warmth that seemed to envelop him. "With my whole heart."

Bruce felt something shift inside of him, a weight he didn't even realize he'd been carrying lifted. He leaned in and kissed you, the kiss soft and lingering, filled with a depth of feeling that the Batman persona could never convey. When he pulled back, he was smiling, a real smile that reached his eyes.

"Thank you," he said, his voice rough with emotion, "for not being scared of me."

You leaned into him, your forehead pressing against his, "I could never be scared of you, Bruce," you whispered. "No matter how hard you try."

[nemo-writes]

⋆˚࿔ ⋆˚࿔ 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐜𝐚𝐛𝐫𝐞 ; 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝜗𝜚˚⋆𝜗𝜚˚⋆

↣ pack!tf141 x witch!reader

↣ chapter summary; tensions continue to build as you face unexpected feelings, leaving you uncertain of your place and searching for clarity in a world that’s shifting without you.

⚠️ warnings; none

★ previous ; next

☆ story masterlist

Black Mous was a warm haven in the heart of the city, its entrance tucked between old brick buildings. The wooden beams overhead added a rustic feel, while the soft lighting—magically flickering candles suspended in midair—cast a golden glow. Laswell had designed the space to feel cosy for humans and magical-folk alike, with worn leather booths and a crackling fireplace in one corner.

It was quiet tonight, the soft hum of conversation filling the air, accompanied by the occasional clinking of glasses. You walked in, eyes searching for Laswell’s familiar silhouette at the far end of the room. The moment you spotted her, she was sitting at her usual corner table, nursing a drink and shuffling through some paperwork.

“Mind if I join?” you asked, sliding into the chair across from her without waiting for a reply.

She looked up, her steely eyes softening slightly, a sign she’d grown used to your unannounced arrivals. “You’re always welcome. What’s on your mind?”

You shrugged, trying to mask your unease. “Just wanted to catch up.”

Her expression flickered, but before she could respond, the air shifted again—the same tingle you’d felt in the supermarket. You turned your head, eyes landing on a figure standing near the bar, a girl with wide eyes and honey brown hair.

Leah.

The newcomer Laswell had taken in, the magicless girl who somehow managed to get the attention of everyone around her.

You frowned, watching her quietly from the corner of your eye. Something wasn’t right. She looked too….kind, too innocent for the tension she brought into the room.

Laswell followed your gaze and sighed, taking a sip of her drink. “I was wondering when you’d ask about her.”

“So, that’s the girl?”

“That’s Leah,” Laswell confirmed, her tone neutral.

You said nothing, not really wanting to leave your thoughts out into the open just yet.

She raised an eyebrow at your silence, but before she could prod, you spotted in your peripheral a very familiar figure walk in. Your eyes snapped back towards the bar, where Leah stood nervously glancing between her drink and the figure now hovering over her.

Price.

He towered over her, his rough exterior softened in a way you had never seen before. His broad hand reached out, resting almost too gently on Leah’s shoulder, his thumb brushing her skin as he leaned in to say something quietly in her ear.

A cold wave of nausea washed over you. This was wrong—so wrong.

Price wasn’t affectionate, not like this. He was always protective, but that care was reserved for his pack. You’d seen him dote on Johnny and Gaz, sure, even Ghost, and even you’d been on the receiving end of his rare tenderness yourself.

But that was you, and them—his people, his pack. Not strangers.

Your throat tightened as you watched Leah laugh at something he said, the sound soft, like a bell, and utterly incongruent with the knot twisting inside you. Price’s hand lingered on her back, his thumb tracing circles, his posture protective, as if she were someone precious to him.

It made no sense.

Laswell’s eyes were on you now, her expression unreadable. “She’s not dangerous,” she said, her voice cutting through the rising fog in your mind. “She’s human and just…different.”

Different. The word hung in the air, and your hands clenched tightly in your lap, nails digging into your palms as you tried to steady yourself. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from Price, who didn’t even seem to notice you were there.

Leah’s eyes briefly flicked toward you, but they were kind, not accusing. She didn’t seem aware of how she was unravelling everything, her innocent presence disarming and unsettling all at once. You tried to muster a smile, but it faltered, your chest tightening painfully as Price continued to stand so close to her.

They were talking, their voices a low hum you couldn’t make out over the noise of the bar. His attention, his warmth, was directed entirely toward Leah, and the ache in your chest grew sharper with each passing second.

Laswell must have noticed the change in your expression, her voice softening just a little. “It’s not what you think.”

Again, you said nothing. Your heart pounded in your chest, a dull roar in your ears as Price laughed quietly at something Leah said, his hand still resting on her, far too familiar for a man who guarded his emotions so fiercely.

This wasn’t right. None of this was right.

A thick wave of nausea rolled through you. You pushed your chair back, the scraping sound harsh in the quiet corner of the bar.

“I need some air,” you muttered, your voice barely above a whisper, the tension in your chest threatening to spill over.

You didn’t wait for Laswell’s response. You stood abruptly and walked toward the back door, your legs carrying you as fast as they could without breaking into a run. You didn’t look back, didn’t want to see any more of Price’s gentle touch or Leah’s oblivious smile.

The cold night air hit you the moment you stepped outside, sharp and biting. How had everything changed so quickly? When had you lost the warmth you had always taken for granted, the connection that had once felt so secure?

You needed to understand what was happening. But right now, the only thing you could do was walk away.

. . .

The days after that night at Black Mous seemed to blur together into a numb haze.

As you sat in your apothecary, hands mindlessly grinding herbs, the familiar scent of lavender and sage failed to calm you like it usually did. You glanced down at Sybil curled up at your feet, her head resting on her paws. She watched you, those deep, knowing eyes never leaving your face.

Despite her comforting company, the heaviness in your chest persisted.

The pack was your family. The men you cherished and loved.

You’d found solace in them after defecting from your coven, escaping a life where loyalty was demanded but never reciprocated. Back then, you had been alone, severed from the only community you had ever known. Until the pack had found you.

But now, the warmth they had once given you felt distant, unreachable. Their shared and cold indifference still haunted you, replaying in your mind over and over again.

You exhaled, leaning back against the counter. "What the hell, Sybil?" you muttered under your breath, tossing the pestle aside. "Am I going crazy? Did I miss something? Did I… I don’t know… offend them?"

Sybil let out a soft, almost resigned huff, her ears perking slightly, as if she were waiting for you to vent properly.

"Price, of all people," you went on, the words bubbling up from that festering pit in your chest, "he’s the last one I’d expect to act like this! I get it if Johnny or Gaz were being weird—hell, they’re always weird—but Price? With her?"

The frustration, the confusion, the hurt—it all festered inside you. You didn’t know whether to scream or cry, so instead, you grabbed a dried bundle of herbs from the shelf and chucked it at the wall.

"What's she got that I don’t, huh?!" you demanded, more to yourself than Sybil. "Some magicless girl walks in, and suddenly she’s everyone’s precious treasure? The pack’s supposed to be my family! Mine!"

At that exact moment, your magic, which had been simmering just beneath the surface, lashed out, unbidden. The elixirs on the shelves behind you started bubbling violently, the glass vials shaking with the sudden surge of angry energy.

Your breath hitched, realisation sinking in like ice water down your spine. Mine?

You shook your head, horrified at what you'd just said. You weren’t supposed to think like that. The pack wasn’t yours. They weren’t possessions. And Leah—gods, Leah was just a girl. Just a girl caught in the middle of something she probably didn’t even understand. How could you think like that?

Across the room, the cauldron you’d left simmering all evening began to overflow, thick, frothy liquid spilling onto the floor in a sticky mess.

"Oh no, no, no! Fuck!" you cried, rushing to the cauldron as fast as your feet would carry you. You waved your hands in the air, muttering a quick incantation to calm the concoction, but it only splattered onto the counter, adding to the chaos.

Sybil darted toward the corner, narrowly avoiding a bottle that tipped over, her eyes wide with dismay as she watched you try to control the magic that had slipped from your control.

"I didn’t mean it!" you shouted to the air, though whether you were talking to Sybil, the cauldron, or yourself, you weren’t sure. The bubbling elixirs finally settled, though the cauldron still dripped with sticky residue. You stood there for a moment, chest heaving, trying to collect yourself as the adrenaline slowly ebbed away.

You sighed heavily, the guilt pressing harder against your chest. "I can’t believe I said that," you whispered, wiping your hands on your apron. Leah wasn’t the enemy. She hadn’t done anything wrong.

Sybil watched you with quiet understanding, her head tilted to the side as if she could feel the weight of your shame. You gave her a weak smile, kneeling down to pat her head. "I messed up, Sybil. Big time. Sorry if I scared you."

The Borzoi leaned into your touch, her soft white fur calming you for a brief moment.

But the storm wasn’t over. You needed answers. You couldn’t stay here, trapped in your own head, making assumptions that might not even be true.

You stood up, brushing the last of the guilt from your mind as you took off your apron and grabbed your coat. "I have to go," you said, your voice firmer now. "I can’t keep avoiding this. If I don’t confront them, I’ll never know what’s really going on."

Sybil followed you to the door, her steps hesitant, as if she didn’t entirely approve. But you had made your decision. You needed answers, and there was only one place to get them.

With a final glance at the apothecary—still a bit of a mess, but you’d deal with that later—you flipped the open sign to closed, before opening the door and stepping into the cool evening air.

It was time to face the pack.

. . .

Your truck rattles to a stop at the edge of the familiar driveway, the engine giving its familiar grumble before falling silent. It’s a reliable old thing, though the original green paint has faded over the years and the body bears a few dings and scratches from all the runs you’ve made for the business and a few others courtesy of Sybil.

The familiar house looms ahead, standing just at the edge of the forest, where the trees cast deep shadows across the driveway. You drum your fingers over the worn steering wheel, the weight of what you were about to do finally settling fully in the pit of your stomach.

It had been a chilly evening like this when the pack had first invited you over—Johnny, with his usual boyish grin, had suggested it casually one afternoon. At first, you thought it was just a friendly gesture, an invitation to hang out, maybe share a drink or two. But when you first walked in, you quickly realised it was something much more profound.

Johnny, always more open with his affection, had slung an arm around your shoulders as he showed you around, his excitement infectious. Gaz and Price had been there too, ever the calmer ones, smiling softly as the young werewolf tattled on and on about how everything in the house worked. The warmth, the easy laughter, the feeling of being seen and wanted—it was overwhelming in the best way.

Simon had lingered in the shadows that evening, his presence a quiet but constant reassurance. He hadn’t said much, but the way he watched you, with those calculating, ever-observant eyes, had spoken volumes. It was as if he was saying, you belong here now, with us.

That one and singular moment felt heavy with meaning, especially considering the nature of two of its inhabitants. For a werewolf like Johnny, his home was more than a place to rest. It was his den, his territory—where he felt safest, most vulnerable, and where he extended that safety to those he trusted the most. And Ghost, being half-wraith and as secretive as he was, letting anyone into his personal space was almost unheard of.

The house wasn’t just a building, it was the heart of the pack, a safe haven where they laid their burdens bare.

Sybil roused from her spot on the backseat, snapping you out of your thoughts. She loved riding shotgun during short rides, but liked it better in the back whenever you planned to go on a longer drive. She yawned, long and whiny, before nudging you with her long snout.

Yeah, it was time to get a move on.

The path up to the door felt longer than usual, your heartbeat growing louder with every step. When you finally reach the door, you hesitate, swallowing hard as you gather your dwindling courage as Sybil stayed close by.

You finally raise your hand and knock. Twice and hard.

It’s a while, long a tense, before the door swings open, and Leah stands before you, her warm smile a stark contrast to the sinking unease inside you.

“Oh, hello!” she greets, her voice as pleasant and welcoming. She even waggles her fingers at Sybil. But you can’t help noticing the slight disarray in her appearance—her hair mussed, her lips faintly bruised.

You force yourself to smile, polite but tight at the edges. “Hi,” you manage, though your voice feels strained. The jealousy and hurt burn in your chest, a sharp, painful ache that only deepens with each passing second. Sybil nudges your hand gently with her muzzle, trying to offer comfort.

You swallow hard, trying to keep your voice steady. “Is… is everyone here?” you ask, though the words feel like lead in your mouth. You’re not sure you want to hear the answer.

Leah’s smile doesn’t falter. “They’re around,” she says vaguely, moving aside slightly to let you in. “Would you like to come in?”

You shake your head quickly. “No, I—um, I should go,” you blurt out, the words coming faster than you intend. “I just… I’ll come back later.”

Leah looks at you, a little puzzled but still smiling. “Okay, well, you’re always welcome here.”

You nod stiffly, turning on your heel before you say something you’ll regret. Sybil follows close behind, and you nearly stumble down the steps as you make your way back to the truck, the nausea roiling in your gut.

When you reach the truck, you lean against the door, gripping the handle tightly as you suck in a shaky breath. The betrayal burns hot inside you. You’d never felt like an outsider here before—not until now.

You and Sybil climb into your truck, before starting the engine and driving away, the crunch of gravel under your tires echoing in the stillness.

The road ahead blurs as your mind races, replaying the scene with Leah over and over, the jealousy and hurt bubbling hotter with each passing second.

Suddenly, you yank the truck off the road, pulling to a stop under a stand of trees. The engine cuts off with a low grumble, but the pounding in your chest only gets louder. The cabin feels too small, too tight, as the emotions you’ve been holding back finally crash over you.

Before you even realise it, you’re crying. Big, heavy sobs tear from your throat as you bury your face in your hands. The hot, bitter tears stream down your cheeks uncontrollably, spilling into your lap as your body shakes with the force of your crying.

It’s not just jealousy now—it’s everything. The fear of losing them. The shame of your own thoughts. The realisation that maybe you weren’t as secure in the pack as you thought. It all comes crashing down, overwhelming you completely. You sob like a child, helpless and raw, gasping for air between each broken breath.

Sybil nudges you gently, her cool nose pressing into your side. You don’t look up, too embarrassed to face her, but she doesn’t care. She curls up beside you, her soft fur brushing against you. She doesn’t try to stop your crying or make it go away. She just stays there, a quiet, comforting presence, letting you feel what you need to feel.

The minutes stretch on, and slowly—so, so slowly—the sobs start to ebb. You wipe your face with the sleeve of your coat, sniffling as the tears dry up.

You let out a long, shaky breath, resting your head against the steering wheel as you try to pull yourself together. You’re not sure what you’ll do next—whether you'll face them again, or whether you’ll run....again.

But for now, you stay still, your chest rising and falling in slow, uneven breaths, as Sybil stays close. She’s all the comfort you need right now, and for this moment, that’s enough.

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