#he also looks more like his actual age with it (early 40s)

[nobodysdaydreams]

Giving a complicated tragic childhood backstory to your favorite character is all fun and games, until you realize you need to account for how old all the other adult characters would have been at the time and realize that scenes that would work perfectly if one character was twenty three and the other was fourteen stop working when you need other characters who are played by adult actors clearly younger than they are to be in college at the same time so your story beats line up thematically.

[silverselfshippingchaos]

Your guy!!!

MAXXIIIIIII HI BABEEEE!!!!

[arolesbianism]

Ok y'know what I'm going to be cringe and talk abt my nuggets more even tho I assume no one who follows me knows anything abt lob corp lol

Anyways first up look at my second ever nugget, Loki. He and Juliet are extremely close friends and were close since long before lob corp. The two went to college together and both took great interest in lob corp when it popped up, and he and Juliet are both deeply invested in their work there and fully believe in the cause. Loki primarily works with the information team, with him doing a lot of research work early on, and managing a lot of paperwork and general company information as he continued to work there. He and Juliet still interact fairly often as she is a head of the control team, and while they are very friendly with eachother they still very much use their time together seriously. Loki generally comes across as very grumpy and impatient, and he absolutely hates interacting with most of his coworkers. He values his time greatly, and sees most interactions outside of ones required for his work as a waste of time. He still values his time with Juliet greatly though, and while he will get very pissy when Juliet calls him her baby brother, he does indeed see her as a sister, and she might be the only thing he cares abt more than his work.

Next up is my 3rd nugget, London. He's a depressed middle aged woman man who forced himself to stop caring abt those around him after he was forced to give up his baby daughter in his youth. Nowadays he's mostly just trying to get by, and lob corp happened to pay well. He is generally not well liked by basically everyone, with lower ranking employees seeing him as cold and rude, and higher ranking ones seeing him as lazy and annoying. He is however really good at his job, which tends to catch most ppl off guard at first considering how little he seems to care abt everything. Underneath it all he's mostly just extremely depressed and going through the motions, he's just been balancing on thin margins for years now and has gotten the hang of surviving in a world that has been trying to tear him apart for years.

To continue going in chronological order despite my best instincts next we have my girl Yui. She's one of my less developed ones despite her being an oldie, but I still have some ideas for her. She's spent most of her time in the information team, and for most of time at lob corp she's actually had a much less hands on job and got very used to seeing the suffering around her as statistics and numbers. She eventually began to do more abnormality work and was moved to safety, but even as she came face to face with real death more she would still continue to fall back on seeing these events as numbers, and while she does do her best to try to help ppl where she can, she is generally rly distant and hard to connect to a lot of the time, especially as she tends to play devil's advocate for the higher ups, as trying to see the best in everyone won't come across well when those ppl are putting other ppl through hell every day.

Alright everyone we're back to the guy's I actually care abt cheer and clap for my girl Maxy right now. I've already talked abt her a lil bit, but she's another favorite child even though she's an absolute bastard in game who loves to suck at her job. Maxy is a generally very miserable person, with her feeling trapped in her circumstances and hating the feeling of being apathetic to the constant death surrounding her. When she first started working here however, she did have someone she somewhat cared abt. She had a mentor figure of sorts, a fairly anxious woman around her age, but still one that managed to bring some sense of comfort and guidance as she found her footing. Alas tho, this mentor of hers would end up dying on the job (I didn't feel like resetting the day so rip) and that was the beginning of Maxy's endless spiral. Pretty early on she was moved to safety, and she absolutely fucking hates it there, she hates how useless the department feels, and she hates that she feels more hatred at her stupid boss than she feels anything when her coworkers die. London actually used to work in security, and the two actually worked quite closely together for a long time. They had a very strained relationship however, as Maxy slowly began to start giving a shit abt London over time, a fact that she absolutely hated as she could tell London didn't give a shit abt her. Eventually London was transferred to records, and Maxy was left behind in safety to keep being sad all the time. She does have her terrible terrible girlfriend of course, and while Maxy doesn't feel she deserves Yuri's love, Yuri is also the main reason Maxy pushes forward despite everything, as just seeing Yuri smile makes it all feel worth it to her.

Ok ok last one for now because I need to sleep so say hi Daniel. He's another one that doesn't have a lot going on, he was simply a single dad who wanted a good job to support his adopted teenage daughter. He didn't exactly find that, but he does generally like his job. Now he is a leader in the training department, so it's not exactly like he has to deal with the worst of what this place has to offer, so his general complacency makes some amount of sense. He is also generally pretty good at helping out with morale in newer recruits, and he is generally seen as kind if a bit goofy at times. Most of those who've been around longer aren't as moved by his attempts to keep morale up however, as once you've been around long enough it becomes clear as day he's only made it this far out of pure luck. He can't truly help others get to where he is like he tries to because of that, and while part of him is aware of that, he also knows he can't afford to fully admit that to himself.

[specterofyou]

Aki's sprite. His stubble is a recent design change that I have quite a fondness towards.

[wordstome]

COD Men as Dream Daddy DILFs

Call of Duty single dads x gn!single parent reader

⤐Characters: 141 + König + Horangi + Keegan

⤐Premise: You just moved into a neighborhood with a high population of retired military personnel.

*glances at my 3-4 wips* let's talk about some dilfs, shall we? ...Don't look at me. I had a vision. (No relation to the actual characters from Dream Daddy, just a similar premise) Also a disclaimer: I'm writing these dads mostly in their late 30s to 40s, but don't think about their ages and the ages of their kids too much. This is all vibes. And sorry ahead of time if I gave one of the kids the same name as you 💀 Feel free to imagine the kid has a different name because the names really don't matter

p.s. I wanted to write more characters but I had to reel myself in. I could be persuaded to write a part 2 with Vaqueros, Nikolai, Valeria, Nikto, and other Ghosts tbh

Warning: this shit is LENGTHY. Strap yourself in.

Price: A post about DILFs and you expect me not to start with Captain John Price? Price is the lynchpin of this cul de sac. He's the one inviting everyone over to the barbecue, tries to get the dads to get along, and gives everyone advice. He has the quintessential dad energy. He 100% slaps his knees and says "well!" when he gets up. Price also has major girl dad energy. He's got three adorable little ladies, aged 3 (Clara), 9 (Brianna), and 11 (Alice). Yes, he did name his daughters in ABC order, I can see him doing that. Oh, he dotes on his girls, and they love their dad endlessly. He's the model father: recitals, sports, parent teacher conferences, you name it, he's there.

That's how the two of you meet: he comes up to you at one of the aforementioned events and gives you a firm handshake and apologizes profusely for not coming around to introduce himself earlier. It's not like him not to at least swing by, and he hopes you can forgive him the discourtesy. He hands you his number and says anything you need, just give him a call, or maybe swing by for a beer sometime. He gives you a wink that makes your knees weak, a wink that says he definitely noticed you checking out his muscled arms and broad shoulders. Maybe you will swing by for that beer sometime—and maybe get a little more than just a drink.

Ghost: I could see Simon having a one night stand kid. He certainly never saw himself starting a family after he lost his last one, but he was stressed and probably piss drunk as well. Years and years later, he's back from deployment and finds a social worker with a boy on his doorstep, and the rest is history. I love the idea of Simon with a moody 16 year old, but I actually see Simon and his son having the same dynamic as Mike and Abby Schmidt from the FNAF movie. Since Simon wasn't around for Caden's early childhood, they have a relationship that's undeniably father and son, but leaning towards casual and sibling-like. Simon's figuring his shit out, dealing with his PTSD and the various lasting health issues his time in special forces has left him with, and Caden's a quiet, sensitive 10 year old boy who thinks the world of his dad.

You meet Simon at the local bar. His Ghost days are long behind him, but the balaclava's a hard habit to kick. Besides, he doesn't need people staring at his scars. He's usually there with the 141, but today he's alone, and looks like he could use some company. You sit up at the bar close to him and order a drink, but you don't disturb him, and he visibly relaxes when he realizes you're not going to try to make small talk. It becomes a routine, the two of you: always sharing a quiet drink together at the bar, and then both of you wordlessly go home to your kids. You have a sort of silent conversation every time: Good to see you again. Yeah, you too. Neither of you actually speak a word to the other until Price introduces you to him at a gathering, and you finally hear his voice. "We've met before," he says, with a glint in his eye that suggests perhaps he'd like to be more than just a silent drinking buddy. That's fine with you: you're dying to see what's under the mask and dark hoodie.

Soap: JOCK ALERT. Johnny's basically Craig from Dream Daddy: total dreamboat who goes on runs around the neighborhood and gets all the appreciative looks from the local moms. He thrives on the attention in a way that definitely makes the 141 roll their eyes. He's got an older little girl named Elodie, and a lil baby boy Thomas that he takes everywhere with him. Obviously he's just being a responsible parent taking care of an infant, but secretly, Thomas is a great conversation starter with aforementioned local moms.

Conversely however, it's Johnny who makes the move on you first. Maybe in the grocery store, maybe at one of Price's get-togethers. Sidles up to you and introduces himself with a look in his eye that means trouble. Only the good kind of trouble, of course. If you reciprocate and he finds out you're single, you're not getting rid of him. But why would you want to, anyway? He's endlessly charming, attentive, and good with his hands. When he's fixing a leaky tap for you, of course—what did you think I meant?

Gaz: Kyle "Gaz" Garrick is a fucking heartthrob. I'm saying it right here, right now. He's a walks in with flowers, makes you dinner kind of partner. Also househusband vibes, because, surprise: Kyle is still married. This isn't a Joseph (Dream Daddy) situation, though: he and his wife, Emily, have known each other for a long time, a very high school sweethearts situation. Over the years, though, they drifted apart with Kyle in the military, and Emily eventually realized she's not actually into men. They're still married for coparenting purposes: they've got an older teenage girl named Violet, and a younger boy named Elliott. (Yes, I'm naming him after Elliot Knight, sue me.)

Honestly, I think it would be HILARIOUS if you met Kyle on a dating app and realized he's your next-door neighbor. But however you guys meet, Kyle is an old-school courter kind of guy. He is taking you on dinner dates, listening to you rant about your day, and is on your doorstep in a heartbeat when you call him in a panic because your kid's running a 105 fever (41 in Celsius) and you need a ride to the emergency room. (Not that the other dads wouldn't do the same, but I'm trying to convey "most reliable man in the world" vibes here.)

König: Y'all...you don't know how much fucken time I've spent thinking about this man as a dad. He's in the same boat as Ghost where he never saw himself living long enough to start a family, but here he is with the most precious little girl you've ever laid eyes on. Ava's got her father's curly hair and big green eyes, and she has her dad wrapped around her pinky finger. For König, Ava is living proof that he's capable of being more than just a tool for violence.

You meet König through Ava, of course. Your kids are the closest of friends, and the two of them are constantly going over to each other's houses. You're obviously delighted that your kid is making new friends and fitting in so well, but you'd be lying if your heart didn't skip a beat whenever you open your door to see Ava's six foot ten dad standing there with soft eyes and a sheepish smile. I have to stop here, because I've already written an extra paragraph for this man that I've cut out and pasted for safekeeping in my notes app, and if encouraged I will write more. (Please encourage me.)

Horangi: I know we already had a sort of Robert (Dream Daddy) figure with Ghost, but I think Horangi is a dad whose kid is an adult, much like Robert and Val. I also think that out of all the dads, Horangi is likely the one who's still doing some level of military work. Either that, or he has a very demanding job that takes up a lot of his time. He's ashamed of the way he let his gambling affect his family in the past, and is making up for it by being responsible and keeping his finances in order.

You don't meet him until you've lived in the neighborhood for quite a while, but he pops up at a gathering, talking quietly with König in a corner. You'd thought you had met every neighbor in the cul de sac, so you're intrigued by the newcomer. Someone, probably Price, tells you what Hong-jin's deal is, and ever since that you just can't keep your eyes off of him. You can't quite work up the nerve to talk to him, so you occupy yourself talking with the other parents. Some time later, you're at the food table grazing on the snacks when you look up and make eye contact with him. There's something intense in his gaze that makes you freeze, like a deer in headlights. He's definitely checking you out, you think. Your chest erupts into nervous butterflies when he starts walking towards you.

Keegan: Keegan is an adoptive father! I love his dynamic with the Walker boys, so I can see him being the kind of guy who adopts an older teenager so they have a home and a family instead of aging out of the system. Jason and Cecelia are high school age siblings who would have been separated otherwise, and consider Keegan their dad in every way that's important.

I think you and Keegan are definitely rivals in some way. Maybe it's a PTO thing, maybe he gets a little too boisterous at your kids' sports game. Whatever it is, you can't stand the man, but your annoyance whenever he's around only seems to amuse him. You have no problem saying to his face exactly what you think about him, but unfortunately, Keegan can see right through you. And hey, Cecelia could use some experience as a babysitter, so you won't have to worry about spending the night over at his place, will you?

As always, I wanna hear peoples' thoughts and feedback! If you want to hear more about these dads, drop me an ask <3

[leonstoenailunderhisbed]

My baby, my baby…

Summary: Leon is a man pushing 40 and you’re a girl in her early 20s. You confessed your feelings but things went south.

Warning: age gap. literally any older version of Leon. reader is young. female reader. haha guess what? it’s sad again.

a/n: I love mitski <3 still mad I didn’t go to her concert. Guys I love writing, I feel like I’m god waiting for shit to happen. TEEHEE.🤭 also, should I make a part two with smut?

(pt.1) (pt.2)

“You're my baby, say it to me” - Mitski, I Bet On Losing Dogs

You hated him. Well not really. You just hated the way he made you feel when you two were in the same room. Your heart beat faster and you felt your face grow hot. You had butterflies in your stomach every time he did something. And you felt stupid because he’s a man twice your age.

You did what you always think is best, avoid him. To which you failed miserably. You both worked on the same team on the DSO, of course you were bound to be next to him. It was as if the universe was mocking you. You couldn’t help but feel guilty. This man, poor innocent man, probably doesn’t know that he has someone so much younger after him. He must be worried about missions and not dying, while you were here crushing over him.

It didn’t help the way he would talk to you, distant but polite. He didn’t hate you, he just thought you were too young to experience such a miserable life the DSO puts on its agents. He wants you to live life. To be a normal girl in her early 20s. He wanted you to have the life he wished he had. He wished you would live your 21st year way differently than when he was 21.

But those thoughts remained unspoken. Neither of you actually spoke about anything besides work and missions. You tried to find excuses to talk to him but he would just stare at you in silence as you talked. He wasn’t mad, he just stood there. (Like this lol🧍‍♂��)

Professional and polite conversations turned into jokes. One time, during a meeting, you were sitting next to Leon and the poor man looked like he didn’t get an ounce of sleep. Chris was talking about some mission in Antarctica and Leon couldn’t help but grumble a stupid joke about all the penguin shit roaming around. It was such a stupid joke but you laughed. When Leon heard you laugh, he turned his head your direction and stared at you with a raised brow. He smirked to himself and laughed a little bit. It was funny to both of you.

From that moment, he became more warm towards you. When he saw you, he would nod at him. And you being you, a delusional lover, gushed about how much he is in love with you.

You managed to break the ice exterior he had because he would look at you with soft eyes every time you got near him.

-

But things changed when you confessed your feelings to him. The softness in his eyes disappeared and he looked at you with the same distant look he had. “I’m too old for you, y/n…” He spoke with a quiet but firm tone. The two of you were currently alone in some room inside the DSO building. You thought this was the perfect time to let your feelings out.

He took a step towards you and stood in front of you, “You should focus on someone your age, sweetheart,” He mumbled as he brought his hand to your face and brushed some strands of hair behind your ear. He then ran his hand down your cheek with a gentle touch. You couldn’t help but lean into it. His thumb gently grazes against your bottom lip as he ran his fingers around your side of your face.

You were upset, you wanted him despite the age gap. “Please… I only want you,” you whispered and leaned into the palm of his hand.

Leon stared at you and then sighed as he brought his hand down your chin to lift it up more. He wanted to see those beautiful eyes of yours, even if they began to show how sad you were. “It’s wrong for me to have you,” he whispered gently as he examines your face.

You felt your eyes become full of emotion, “It’s not fair…” your voice came out strained and barely audible, it was a miracle Leon still understood you.

"I know." Leon sighed, unable to keep himself from looking you with a soft look. You were his soft spot after all, "Trust me; nothing would please me more than to be with you..."

“Then let me have this one chance…please?” You begged with pleading eyes. "I shouldn't," he breathed, eyes traveling down to your lips before returning to scan your face, "It wouldn't be right for me to take advantage of you..."

“I want you to take advantage of me, to use me… I just want to be yours,” you whispered as your eyes shifted down to his lips and then back to his eyes.

"You're sure about this?" His breathing quickened as his eyelids drew heavy, his gaze locked onto the soft curve of your lips. You nodded, “I wouldn’t be asking you if I wasn’t sure,” you whispered as your hand intertwined with his.

He squeezed your hand, and with a slight shrug of his shoulders, he leaned down until your faces were just mere inches apart.

He breathed slowly, eyes scanning your gaze, "Promise me one thing..."

You stared at his eyes and nodded, “yeah?”

"Promise me..." He breathed out slowly, allowing himself to lean in closer to you until his breathing was near whisper. "...That you will not regret this.”

“I won’t,” you whispered as you closed your eyes and felt Leon's lips finally make contact with yours, kissing for the very first time. It was a gentle, tender caress that made your cheeks flush with color, his broad hands gently resting on your hips while the tips of his fingers grazed the skin of your waist. You brought your hands to his broad shoulders and rested them there. You felt your knees grow weak from the gentleness of the kiss. His lips felt so soft against yours, he tasted the flavor of your chapstick and he couldn’t help but love it even more.

He sighed against your lips as the gentleness of the kiss began to build into something more passionate. His lips pressed against yours firmly, a hand cupping your chin to keep your face closer. His lips parted slowly, urging your lips to part as well. When you felt his lips part and his tongue press on your bottom lip, you gasped and he dived his tongue right into your mouth. His tongue finally danced against your tongue, inviting a response back from you. Your grip on his shoulders increased ever so slightly as you moaned in the kiss, sending the vibrations to his tongue as both your tongues danced passionately.

He moaned softly in response, his hands sliding around to your back once more holding you as close to him as he could. His tongue continued to swirl around your mouth, gently sucking at your bottom lip. His hold on you was strong and firm, a silent command to stay pressed against him. His hold on you only grew stronger as he kept you pressed up against his body. A hand ran through your hair, keeping your head held in place. His tongue and lips continued the dance of teasing and pleasing, your own lips responding in kind. The passion built within his embrace, his breath growing labored and his heart beating rapidly against his chest. It felt so surreal.

You moved your hands down to his chest and gently pulled back to catch your breath. You panted as you tried to breathe and remain focused. Your brain felt mushy from how good the kiss was. You finally got the chance to taste his lips.

His lips parted from yours, and he breathed out slowly, his breathing rapid and throat parched. His hand slid to your lower back as he kept you pressed close to him. He brushed a few stray strands of hair from your face, then gently tucked it back behind your ear. "Are you ok?" He whispered, voice still strained, but his body relaxing slightly.

You nodded and breathed out a small “yes,”

Leon let his grip on you loosen slightly, allowing a small distance to form between the two of you. He brushed the side of your face, and his hand moved to grasp yours.

"Good," He whispered slowly, his gaze falling to your lips, "So very good..." he sighed and let his hand slid back down your back before letting go, "Forgive me if I got a little carried away..." He took in a deep breath, his voice now returning to a normal tone, "I've wanted to do that for a very long time..."

You eyes nestled bulged out of their sockets after he said that, “You did?” You asked softly in disbelief.

He nodded slowly, his gaze flicking between yours, “Yes. Ever since the moment we first met, I was attracted to you, even though I knew it was wrong. I wanted you, wanted to hold you close, kiss you, and make you mine…” his eyes growing distant, "I've wanted you..." He took a deep breath, then gently caressed your chin with a hand, his lips gently grazing your forehead.

You closed your eyes and felt the softness of his lips plant a kiss on your forehead. A gesture so gentle and soft it could bring anyone to their knees.

He breathed out slowly, closing his eyes for a second before opening them to peek at you through his lids. He raised a brow and sighed, adjusting the hold on your chin to gently tip your head up.

"But as I said, I'm too old for you," he brushed his fingers across your jawline, "And I fear that our relationship would be met with judgment and ridicule..." he looked at you with saddened eyes. He wished he could kiss you anytime, to be with you in public and not have to worry about the judgment. In his eyes, you were the most beautiful woman to ever step foot on earth. It was sad, really. How much love he had for you but he hid it for your sake. He loves you so much he didn’t want you to get hurt.

You furrowed your brows together and looked at him with those sad eyes of yours. But his heart ached the most with the strain of your voice, “I don’t care what anyone says…”

"But you should," he replied softly, "You're still young... You should find someone closer to your age,” he caressed your cheek once again as he looked into your eyes "What about your family?" He sighed, "What if your parents disagree with us? They'd say that I'm taking advantage of you and manipulating you because you're young..."

“Leon, please, I’m an adult. I can make my own choices…” you whispered with a sad tone, “I don’t care if you’re 20 years older than me. I want you… dare I say I love you…”

Leon fell silent as your words sank into him. He froze in place, for a few moments, he was speechless, his facial expressions shifting through multiple emotions.

"Love me?" He whispered, leaning down towards you, "Y/n… you don’t love me. You love the idea of me you have in your head.” He whispered softly as he caressed your cheek once again. His voice so soft and tender and full of sadness.

Your throat was caught up into a knot. Did you screw things over already? Or were they already screwed up before this began?

You bit your bottom lip to contain the threatening tears that were about to spill. He saw this and gently brought his thumb over to the corner of your eyes and wiped them for you.

“I love you…” you nodded and felt your eyes get glossy, “I love you, Leon…” you whispered, “This feeling I have… it’s controlling me. I can’t breathe when I’m not with you. I need you…”

“Don’t cry, angel,” he whispered as he kissed your forehead again and gave you a sad smile. “How do you know this is not just infatuation?”

You stared into his blue eyes deeply, “Because I’ve never felt this way towards anyone before..”

His eyes were locked onto yours, a million thoughts running through his head. As much as he wanted to be with you, this was never meant to happen. You’re way too young. You needed someone else, someone better than him. He sighed and looked out the window. What was once a sunny day became a rainy one. He looked back down at you.

"Go home, y/n…" he whispered.

He let go of your face and took a step back. You watched him go with sad eyes, you wanted to chase after him so badly but you felt frozen in place. It was bittersweet. You got the kiss you wanted but at the cost of him leaving you.

You sniffled and cried silently as you walked out of the building and to the bus stop. You put on your headphones and began to listen to some music while you watched the raindrops race down the window.

Leon watched you from the second floor window. He felt a pang of guilt in his heart. He knew you’d cry but he couldn’t let you get too attached to someone like him. He was broken, never meant to be fixed again. While you were everything. In another universe, maybe the two of you could’ve been together.

[gremlingottoosilly]

[If you need to be mean] chapter 2

Chapter 1

Konig decided to meet his new favorite civilian at the cafe you work at. Unfortunately for both of you, you're both socially awkward. TW: Konig being a huge pervert, Canon-Typical violence, Dub-Con, Innocence kink, Age difference(Konig in his yearly 40, Reader in young 20)

Pairing: Konig x fem!Reader Tags: Fluff, Power Imbalance, Hurt/Comfort, Size Kink, Possessive Konig, Yandere Konig, Creepy scary stalker Konig, written mostly from Konig's perspective

— Did something good happen, colonel? You are practically shining. 

Horangi always had this special ability of telling nonsense with the most serious face and deep voice. He also was the only one in his unit to ever be brave enough to joke with his superior – even though all the other KorTac members usually don’t risk their asses to be put on fire list because of some silly joke. He is the closest König has to a friend – and it’s kinda sad, actually, that a broken gambling addict is the only person who can read his emotions so well, even with his hood and permanently sour expression. 

But something good did happen – you happen, of course. 

He spend a few days of self-reflecting, drinking and punching training manekens in the gym, trying so fucking hard to put your adorable civillian face out of his mind. You were out of sight alright, but the way your features would get distorted into something even more adorable every time he closed his eyes, was concerning. He dealt with those little obsessions before – nothing that a few good rounds of jerking off until he would feel nothing but emptiness and hatred to himself couldn’t handle. He surely can’t fall that deep down, he only saw you for like an hour and it was literally three days ago! 

— I read your reports about the last terrorist encounter. Good job, Horangi. 

— And I heard about that civilian girl you pulled, sir. Thought we are bringing those to the police, not their houses. 

— I had to make sure she wasn't a spy. 

— And she wasn’t? 

König thinks – would be far easier if he would have an official, legal reason to keep you locked up on the base without the right to come out. Would be far easier for him to just think about you as an enemy, so he would have normal reasons for thinking about you constantly, and not feeling guilty. It’s normal to think so much about your enemies – this is what keeps you alive on the field, if you can determine their shortcomings early and make sure that you can fight them. He would love having you as an enemy – it would at least give him some info before starting obsession over little ol’ you. 

— No. 

— That would give us at least some lead to the terrorist cell. Feels like all locals are protecting them from it. 

— I understand your frustration. But at least they are not cutting our pay. 

— We might as well rebel if they’d try to. 

— We are not stepping on terrorist’s route. 

— I was joking, sir. Only thing that’s left here except for card games. 

Horangi hates stationing in this country as much as König is – and, given that he is a sergeant and doesn’t have as much rank expectations, can talk about this openly. This operation is perfect except for the lack of intel, lack of action and lack of basically anything to do – the local forces are handling minor threats, while mercs here are mostly to show off how the government has money to hire them. KorTac would pay for actually having to fight some bad guys around here – but the bigger ones are hiding and lower ones are already getting tracked down by the local military. 

The only interesting thing to do, seemingly, is to obsess over local girls – and König thought he is better than this. 

But he isn’t losing sleep over thinking about how scared and fragile you looked that night. Especially not even going to think about how adorable your little pout was, and the way your hands were trembling. He definitely doesn't want to know every tiny detail about your life, what you like and what you hate, what is your favorite position in bed and the color of underwear you are currently wearing – or even if you are wearing one. And he isn’t some sort of creep that would spend an obnoxiously long amount of time registering on social media – god, he is too old for this shit, it literally feels even more humiliating than his whole school experience – just so he can find your accounts and get instant masturbation material. 

You really shouldn’t post so much half-naked photos – yes, this is a reel from your last summer vacation and yes, this swimsuit looks beautiful on you, but have you ever considered that some creep(not someone like him, he is palming himself very respectfully) would use those photos as a way to get themself off? Terrible, scary, he can’t wait for you to post some new photos – maybe in something that he would buy you, way skimpier and more expensive, so he could protect you from those people. 

He looks at your posts about work – and he hates this stupid blue bird app because it never works for him, always filled with some assholes who are trying to argue with literally everyone, and the way he can’t even see your posts properly because of the weird ads. No, he doesn’t need a “Thing that would make your dick longer” he literally has a problem with making it smaller. No, he doesn’t need some dumb T-shirt even though he kinda reflects with the funny pun about pokemons and would love to wear something containing his major interest even though it would look ridiculous on a 6 '10 killing machine. 

But König reads all of your short posts about the way you hate working in customer service, and his hand is almost slipping to the ad about wedding rings. You hate your job, he hates his – practically soulmates, even though he doesn’t really hate the killing part of his employment, he just doesn’t want to be in charge of people and making them steal the fun of destroying. He would, however, agree to get as many ranks as possible if that would mean providing for you. If that would allow him to be by your side and listen to your sweet voice, he would agree for the next promotion even if higher ups would want him to make some PR wawes and become a fucking fashion model. 

But he is completely sane about you. Totally normal. Absolutely nothing is wrong with him when he can’t even think about visiting you in real life, but he leaves a like on every of your posts in every social media he has – you have terrible online safety habits by the way, he can already see what the inside of your apartment looks like, your place of work from three different angles, and how the front door of your apartment is held together by a very easy to destroy lock. He could snatch it in one deliberate kick, not even speaking about just shooting it. Not like he would need to, he wants you to be with him willingly. Or, at least, don’t fight him too much in case he would actually lose his patience and do something drastic. 

It has already been three days and he feels like he is going crazy. He had those things before, overthinking about tiniest details in someone he never truly knew, but even then he’d understand that he can’t be with them – it could be his school crushes that were, ironically, crushed because of his anxiety. It might be some casual flings with his fellow soldiers that would either get killed in the field or never happen because it would be fraternization. Some random people he saw at the airport and already imagined life with multiple kids and a dog. He always knew he had a problem – but it was never like this before. Never dangerous. 

The problem is – he knows that he can have you. 

Maybe not in a traditional way, he doubts that you would just marry him on the spot, but he can court you at least. He can shower you with gifts or ridiculous tips at your job, he can just snatch you away and leave you as his perfect little bedmate. He can make his men kidnap you, and while it is inhumane and you don’t deserve this, he would calm you down – and then have his happily ever after. 

He knows that he can have you – and it drives him crazy. He could stop himself previously, when he didn’t have anything for himself to be considered desirable – but now, with his rank and all the new opportunities and money it brings, he can’t stop but fantasize. 

You under him, panting and blushing, lips puffy from kisses, skin glazed from sweat and marked with his teeth.

You under him, so wonderfully tight, not letting him go even for an inch – and you are perfectly taking him, no matter how gigantic he is. 

You under him, smiling, cuddling after a long night – every night after a mission, where he could spend his free time deep in your body, listening to your melodic moans and little whines. 

You under…

— Can I…can I take your order, sir? 

He is a disgusting human being because lives of thousand people are on a stake, he would just doom them all if he wouldn’t find those terrorists soon – and he wastes time on sitting in this tiny ass cafe, trying to place himself on the small seat while being all too nervous to just talk to you. Like a person. Of course he had to go to your shift – he already determined which days you were working because it increased the number of angry “I hate my job and want to kill my manager” posts on that dumb social media, and he knows which hours you work at – of course it’s almost night time, the closing shift, because he simply can’t have himself not worry about you. 

He is a creep, weirdo and all that words in a song that he’s been blasting in his tiny headphones all of these days because he can smell the sweetness of your perfume and the way you are munching on the pen you are using to write his order. Oh, yes, order. He is supposed to order something, he can’t just give you money for how adorable you look in that white apron – even though you are absolutely stunning and should get money. 

God, he would murder everyone in this building just for them to never look at your legs again. 

God, he would bury himself between them if only you’d allow him to.

— Sir, is everything okay? 

He served in the military for far longer that you lived, probably. Most of his life, he got used to being referred to as something honorable, or referring to other people like that – and he never thought that just being referred to as “sir” would make his dick twitch in his pants. He crosses his legs, hoping not to get too imposing – he already towers over the tiny table like a giant he is, barely even fitting in it. He thinks he has a healthy amount of self-control – then he looks at you again, and thanks all the gods he knows for the mask he is wearing – at least under the black surgeon piece and dark glasses you won’t really see his blush. Or that little twitching in his eyes that is indicating danger. 

— Sorry, I…can I, um, have a coffee? Bitte…please, I mean. 

He hates how nervous he is – like high school again, asking his crush out just to be ridiculed. But you look perfect like this – controlled environment, you can’t just laugh at him and say that he is a weird nerd from another class, you have a manager who is controlling of such behavior. He would never tell on you, of course, he wants you to be happy, even if this job makes you the most miserable – even though he kinda thinks of you as a weak for this, his job literally involves killing people and he doesn't argue that much! 

But you giggle – sweet, innocent sound, it drives him crazy even more than he previously was. It doesn’t feel like those girls at school – yes, he still can’t let that go, even though his therapist says he has to – and he loses all control at how beautiful you sound. He wants to take you away right now, pay you for your workplace however you get them, and just use you as he wants – no matter how socially unacceptable. He protects this country, he has the right for a little prize, right? No, this would be terrible, he shouldn’t just harass sweet little civilians like you, he should…

— What type of coffee, sir? Do you want some dessert? 

This is a typical question, he was at cafes and coffee shops a thousand times but, for some reason, it feels almost like you are teasing him. You bite the end of your pen with those adorable teeth of yours – he wants to feel it on his fingers, he wants you to leave bite marks all over his body as a sign of marking him as yours. He smiles under his mask, hoping that you would somehow feel it – how happy you make him feel, how hard it’s for him not to lose control. 

— No. Just coffee. 

— Sugar? 

He would like some sugar, of course – but the one he wants is probably not for sale, even though that adorable white apron of yours makes you look like a candy. He would love to unwrap you from those silly clothes and devour what belongs to him for the right of protector, but he knows how scared you might be. He is not a good person, he killed more people that he could count – countless fathers, sons, mothers, he shouldn’t even think about having a right for a family of his own after all of this. He is not a good person and his moral code changes with every kill he gets – but for hell sake, he wants to be nice with you. You deserve it, he knows. More than he is, for sure. 

König doesn’t really like sugary stuff, it was always too childish, made him too energetic, disrupted his very peculiar way of eating things. Sweets makes him only more hungry, makes him crave more, and he wants to be as serious as possible – so he usually drinks and eats stuff that is no tastier than a pile of dry sand. But he responds before he can think, too focused on that shiny lipgloss you have on your lips. He would lick and bite it all – soon, he hopes. 

— Ja. Thank you. 

— Good choice, sir.

Your lips are curling into a small, shy smile and he likes sugar now. He isn’t sure if you are telling everyone that their order is a good choice, maybe you just want to get more tips, but he hopes that maybe, he is special. Maybe there is something nice happening to him after all. A small reward for not being a total monster on the last mission he had, even though he could. He can’t do anything but to stare at you, his only saving grace is the dark lenses of his glasses – he can’t wear his hood in civil situations, unfortunately, people would stare, stare, stare and that would make him want to pull their eyes out. 

But you smile and he smiles also, even if you can’t see it. He is looking at your legs and, fuck, he is a disgusting old creature that preys upon younger women because he never had a positive experience before. He is a total creep and a monster that should be put down already – but he stares at your legs under that waitress dress, and he would pay your manager a few thousand Euros to cut the length of your skirt in half. 

Then he sees all the others looking at you the same way – old people, young people, there aren’t a lot of guests at this time in the evening, most people are afraid of going into public places while the war on terrorism is going on. There aren’t a lot of people while it’s almost closing time, but he doesn't even want to think about all the other men looking at you like this. Devouring you with their eyes, probably leaving sleazy comments as you go through the small cafe, just as overworked as your other coworkers. He wants to take you from here. 

You don’t deserve people looking at you like you aren’t even a person – only he can look at you respectfully, stripping you with his eyes. He can be soft for you, can be perfect – if you would just let him. 

König doesn’t want to be a creep around you, but he was looking at your legs for five minutes already, picturing the way your body would look under all of these clothes, and his cock gets painfully hard. He thanks himself for wearing normal, baggy pants, not something tighter – at least his embarrassment is completely covered by his clothes. 

— Here is your coffee. Anything else? 

You look nervous, of course – but he seems way softer than he was a couple days ago, at night. The absence of his creepy mask is obviously helping, and because he is sitting, you don’t have to tilt your head too high, causing your neck to stretch uncomfortably. He looks awkwards, like a big dog that still tries to fit into his old bed, and it causes you to smile a little bit more. You made sure to place a couple of sugar cubes on the plate, so he could decide for himself, if he wants to use them all – but the mere thought of that giant of a man, a colonel, hardened soldier liking something silly and sweet is making you giggle. 

He looks way softer than he was that night, and you can almost forget about how scared you were – how you were thinking that this would be the end for you, that one, overthinking part of your mind already making up the scenarios of getting martial lawed because of the broken curfew. You can even see his hair – and fight the urge to touch it a little. He is still who-knows-how-old and still a military presence in your peaceful country. 

You still want to ruffle his hair. 

He still wants to take your clothes off and make you his. 

— Nein, thank you. 

He stares at the cup for a good few seconds – if he wants to drink, he needs to actually take it off. He has many scars on his face, and his mouth sometimes feels like it has more dead skin than alive one – he doesn’t want to attract attention. Some people are already staring at his badge and how awkward a giant man like him looking in that cozy, tiny place – but he also wants you to see how much pain he can withstand without getting killed. How he can protect you from anything because there literally isn’t anything he won’t do for you. You would appreciate a man with scars, it’s a sign of bravery, right? 

Then he thinks about all the times he would take off his mask and how people around him would look at him – with pity, with fear, with disgust sometimes even though he is certain that his face isn’t as deformed as some other parts of his body. He even almost managed to grow a beard once! Then he had to scrub it all off because hair was growing in very uneven patches and he looked like something crawled on his chin and died. 

König fought in countless battles, spent his youth training to be the best killer possible, took part in many major conflicts and killed hundreds of people while feeling nothing but recoil. He isn’t afraid of anything – except for talking to people sometimes, maybe, and even now he is trying to work on it with his therapist, instead of just killing anyone who looks at him funny. He isn’t afraid of the dark, of death, of uncertainty in his life. But he is afraid of you looking at him unmasked and thinking that you, in fact, find him disgusting. 

You almost want to take your time to look at what he will do – is he going to take off his mask? Is he going to drink right through the fabric? You have too much work to just stay at his table and stare, even if you want to – but you are trying to give him occasional glances as he just…sits at his table. Not even moving, just staring at the cup and sometimes moving his head to look at you – or just ornaments at the wall behind you. Yes, probably the ornament. 

König sits at the table and, well, he doesn’t even want to drink his coffee because just looking at the way your ass sways under that terribly short skirt is enough to set him on fire. He wants to take you home with him – even though his home is all the way up in Austria. He would take you, you probably wouldn’t even be mad at you – you could be a perfect little family. He already waited too long to start one, never finding anyone who would win his heart for a long run but he was sure that this three-days-obsession would last long. He isn’t sure, however, if he likes it or not. 

He ended up not drinking at all – he knows that he can’t just waste multiple hours, he already got his lieutenants covering the spot with paper work while their commander is away at searching for the love of his life. He wants to be with you longer, probably walk you home again and make sure to protect you from any creeps that would want to attack. He can’t have that, it’s obvious – he is a colonel, unfortunately, he is still on the hunt for those terrorists, he can barely give himself an hour of free time these days. 

He already indulged in his fantasies too much when he folds a 100 Euros banknote and puts it into the bill – not sure about how much money it is here, not wanting to give you any trouble with exchanging currency, he just hopes that would be enough for you to at least not worry about food for a few days. Or buy yourself something nice – what girls like these days? Guns, books, some fancy lip gloss, a hat for their adorable little turtles? He would buy you a pet turtle, he always wanted one as a kid – right before his father said that all lizards are products of sinful corporations and a lazy pet like a turtle, unlike a giant dog breed, is completely useless and unmanly. 

He doesn’t want to be here when you’ll get the bill – he is too afraid that he didn’t gave you enough, that you'd be disappointed. He would love to give you more, of course, but he doesn’t want to just shove you the money like you are some sort of cheap whore – he wants to give you gifts, something meaningful, to steal you from poverty altogether. König is an expert in infiltration and escaping arts, he can exit the location without anyone noticing a thing, even with his size – and then you look at him, directly into his eyes, covered by sunglasses – and your face is twisted in shock as you realize what exactly he left you. 

— Wait, sir! Please, I…god, I will get you the change right now, I’m so sorry, it’s closing shift, I…I’m sorry, I completely forgot…

You are almost begging him to stop and let you give him his money, a honorable deed really – but all he can think of is how nice you would look on your knees, begging him to fuck you already. How perfect you would look all whiny and spoiled, asking him for something expensive, whatever your cute head would want. You would look so complete on his lap, tugging on his shirt and asking your daddy for a new toy. You would…

— It was a tip. Take it. 

He wants to be able to tell you how perfect you look, how he wants to just throw you over his shoulder in a totally non-creepy way and make you his little wifey. How he would take multiple months of leave to just be with you, marry you, breed you. He wants to have a way with words, but they are useless to him – he can’t even say he likes you, it’s embarrassing, he is almost forty, he got his rank as youngest colonel in history of KorTac, he can literally have almost everything he wants – except for basic social skills. 

He feels like a creep, an old man trying to steal that perfect girl from the shiny world, and he hates himself for it – but then you blush and he can almost convince himself that yeah, you like that creep too. 

— I…shit, I mean, sorry…thank you, sir. 

— Don’t wander at night again. 

He feels like a scolding father and you giggle again, too innocent and naive to understand his thoughts. 

— I won’t. Promise. 

He then slowly leans closer, puts a hand on your shoulder again – goosebumps are running on your skin. His head is near yours now, he is whispering in your ear – and you are almost sure that you shouldn’t have come closer to him like this, that it’s unprofessional from your side, that everyone is staring at you. They are – and you try to ignore it, but…

— Wear shorts under your skirt next time. Never know who might look at your legs like that. 

You would slap him here and there. You would scream and run away right now, but for some stupid, dumb, completely terrifying reason, you…almost like how protective he sounds. And the money he gave you is also helping – even if just a little bit. 

König looks at the way you blush even more, and he knows already that he won’t ever let you go. 

Tag list: @iwritesjud3

Please write if you want to be tagged in the next chapter!

[complete-clownery]

Human SWK and Mac for the soul

Long rant about the au idea ⬇️⬇️⬇️

Actually they're for my detective au I'm not really talking about but I do have this fun little animatic idea in my head to Michael Bublé - Better be tonight, where MK and Wukong beat up a lot of people behind the scenes in the bar while Macaque distracts the audience with a performance lol haha how silly of me

But yeah the au would be Wukong is a private detective who has already retired, and MK (a young detective working for the police (dw were all about acab here, so Mk would realize how shitty the police system is and leave)) would seek him out for help with a case about some underground Mafia business

(probably something I would do with LBD and the Demon bull family but who knows), and Wukong decides to help him MK and also just teach him stuff along the way while also guiding him away from the police force

(probably something something Wukong worked as a detective in there, jttw event converted into detective cases idk, celestials as the justice system ect ect),

but they would ultimately work together on the case and would cross paths with Macaque (who needs a proper human name) Wukongs former partner (partner as in work related business but yeah they were also fucking), who will probably stab them in the back at some point in the story LBD pressure and whatnot,

but yeah on normal days Mac works a shitty job in an office, but Wukong swears up and down that Mac is up to something shady (and he is kinda right) (also side note: every individual in the office regardless of gender has had an office crush on Macaque at some point lol)

Also Wukong when he worked at the police actually got himself quite the name and so people know about him, kinda was the face of the police force at some point, and MK decides to be a detective bc of Wukong, (but that was kind of a given, even tho in the show before getting his powers MK wasn't really interested in becoming a here and this was also a key plot point in season 4 MK not wanting to do all the crazy magic shit and wanting to go back to being just a delivery boy and sometimes beating up the eventual villain of the week, but whatevs)

They're in their 40s maybe early 50s but Wukong somehow still looks 20-30 years old nobody knows how he does it, everyone else is kinda the same age in the show

They're also in America for this cuz--- this is a 90s 80s detective show just because I want it to be--- how did the characters from China end up here idk :| something something emigration or maybe the au can stay in China idk man Im making up half of this as I'm writing but it's fun I like the rotate my little aus in my brain

But yeah its just a fun little idea in my head that is going to stay just that, never manifesting into something more

[romanreignsbae]

Forbidden Desires - Chapter 1

R.R

Y/n was always what everyone considered blessed. Now, being the assistant for the tribal chief had it’s perks. For starters, you rode around in his luxurious bus, that only few people were allowed on.

You also, were granted with being able to fly on private jets to get from place to place, as well as exquisite hotel rooms booked and paid for.

Especially your schedule. Roman Reigns wasn't showing up to every pay per view. Not even every Friday night SmackDown. He made appearances when he felt like it. So you were usually home, that didn't mean you were off work, you had other things to handle.

Many people wanted to be you, or at least wanted your job. While these people we’re wanting your job and status, you were wanting the man you worked for, your boss, none other then Roman Reigns.

You’d been working for him for almost 4 years now. Ever since he pursued his heel character, you’d been hired as his assistant. Being his assistant wasn’t nearly as bad as you thought. You thought he’d order you around to do his dirty work, but working for him was nicer then excepted.

All you really did was keep track of his hectic schedule, pack his luggage for him, and follow him around during meetings and travels...even taking care of something he claimed to be more important then work. And not to mention the money was a plus. He paid you better then you deserved, you swore it was favouritism, for obvious reasons.

Over the years you worked for him, you two created a special bond. Yes, he was your boss. But, he was also your friend. You two would often spend time together even during non work related times. You could find the both of you at a bar together. Or having movie nights in each other’s hotel rooms. You loved it. And maybe loved him..

The only problem in your way was the age gap you two shared. You were in your early twenties whereas Roman was on the verge of 40. The age gap wasn’t even a big deal to you. But, if others found out you’d grown feelings for your boss. All hell would break loose. See, Roman, is extraordinarily popular with females.

Like seriously, he has some die hard female fans. Most around your age. If anyone found out about this little crush you’d developed..well..you’d for starters be fired, and your reputation would be completely destroyed.

So here you are, sitting in the tribal chief’s private jet, waiting to land in Las Vegas. “Alright, only about a hour to go” a familiar deep voice spoke. You looked up to see Roman sitting comfortably in his seat, staring intently at you. “Yeah..” you mumbled.

“Whats up with you? You been like this all flight, completely out of it. What’s wrong are you sick? Do you have a fever? The flu? Is- nevermind..” Roman spoke worried. “No no, im good” you spoke as reassuringly as you could. He looked at you skeptically before closing his Macbook and making his way to sit beside you.

He sat beside you and looked at you for a few seconds before speaking up. “What’s planned for today?” he asked you. You quickly opened your Ipad before checking his schedule. “Well..today your free, tomorrow you have a meeting in the afternoon, its a long one” you told him.

“Damn, I hate the long meetings” he spoke with a smile. “They are the worst” you agreed grinning. “Anyways, since i’m free today, why don’t you and I head out, go do something fun together, away from work..you know after we get settled in..” he spoke almost nervously.

You were surprised to say the least. You didn’t think he would wanna spend his free day with you. “Yeah sure. What do you wanna do?” you asked him while trying to hide your growing smile. “Anything you want. Actually you know what? Lemme take you shopping, Las Vegas is known for their malls” he requested with a wink. Your cheeks started heating up.

“Sure” you spoke softly. He smiled at you before striking up new conversation about some investors looking to partner with WWE. It kept yourself distracted from the mess in your mind. Before you knew it, you landed in Las Vegas, and your uber was here to take you and Roman to the hotel.

Once you arrived to your hotel, you and Roman headed to the front desk to get the keys to your rooms.

“I’m sorry sir but, only one room has been booked-” the hotel worker spoke.

“That cant be! You don’t understand, I called yesterday booking two rooms!” Roman spoke roughly at the worker. Your feelings were hurt to say the least. You didn’t think he’d be this avoidant at sharing a room with you, especially after the favor you did him. You instantly felt your heart swelling and tears coming to your eyes.

You refused to cry over this so you grabbed Roman’s arm. “I’m gonna head to the bathroom, i’ll be right back” you spoke softly. Roman slightly nodded his head before going back to barking at the hotel employee.

You took as long as you could trying to get yourself together in the bathroom. You had just arrived is Les Vegas and he was already making you feel like shit. You didn’t even understand what the problem was. Well, deep down you did...you knew he didn't wanna make the same mistake.

You made your way back to the lobby to see a more calm and quiet Roman standing by the elevators.

“So Y/n..they are all booked and it looks like me and you are roommates for the next few nights” he told me. “I’m really sorry..” he added ashamed.

Your eyes widened. Why was he sorry? He didn’t even do anything. Well apart side from almost making you cry, but thats besides the point.

“Roman..why are you sorry? It’s just a room..no biggie” you spoke, plus it's not like you haven't shared one before.

“Because well, I don’t want you to feel like i’m taking advantage of you..and I don’t wanna make things awkward and weird between us..” he went on nervously.

You both knew he was lying straight through his teeth. That wasn't the real reason.

You took his words in before responding. You reached out and touched his arm reassuringly. “Ro, that’s okay, seriously I don’t mind.” you let him know. You'd be careful this time. He smiled at you almost gratefully knowing you understood.

The hotel room the two of you would be sharing was nothing less then absolutely luxurious. But you weren't surprised, the tribal chief always needed the best.

After the two of you settled into your hotel room, Roman called for an Uber to take you two to the mall. Inside the uber Roman and you made small talk back and forth but no one could deny the elephant in the room.

A little secret the two of you shared was up in the air. Something no one could know about...otherwise everything would be ruined. He warned you, if anyone found out what the two of you shared, it was over.

Everything was.

That was the first chapter of forbidden desires that I've been putting off. I have a lot more sitting in my drafts for you guys that'll be out soon. Also what do you think the little secret is? Let me know what you think of this chapter.

[yuyusboyfriend]

i’m no writer but i’m always having massive amounts of brainrot so may i offer the idea of professor!yunho and student!reader,, yk, the whole reader can’t focus in class bc prof jeong is just so hot and he catches on but doesn’t do anything about it until they’re actually on the brink of failing the class so he calls them up to his office and then the rest is history

im sorry im a sucker for power imbalances hides back in my corner

Oh my god. Professor Yunho brain rot is so real. THANKS SM ANON FOR THE ASK🫶

Meet me after class.

pairing: professor!yunho × reader

wordcount: 2,6k

warnings: aged up Yunho (late twenties +), reader early 20s, non idol au, afab reader (use of words cunt, clit, pussy - no mentions of chest), dom!Yunho/sub!reader, use of pet names (baby, star, sweetheart, tiny,) use of Sir, cunnilingus (pussy, once again, ate), rough sex, LOTS of praise, yunhos a sweetheart, also a beast iykwim, lmk if theres anything else

Masterlist!˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

Every single day you attended classes like the exemplary student you are. You've always had decent enough grades, whether you honestly liked the lesson or just crammed the last second before exams; you've never "flopped" as your friends would say. It stayed this way until you started taking classes taught by the most stunning man you'd ever seen in your lifetime, Professor Jeong Yunho. When you walked into class for the first time 30 minutes early to claim your seat, you had already been beaten to the front rows by numerous other students. Weird, you thought, most people flock to the other end of the classroom—until you saw the professor arranging his papers at the front of the small lecture hall.

You stood frozen on the steps, staring at the older man. His obsidian-black hair fell just above his eyes, moving against his batting eyelashes as he concentrated on whatever he was reading at his desk. His discarded blazer is on the back of his chair, giving you a full view of his toned back and rounded shoulders in his white dress shirt. You're pretty sure your underwear was already ruined once you looked at his rolled-up sleeves, seeing his muscled forearms tensing while he fiddled with his silver rings. You felt relieved seeing no wedding ring though.

His dark eyes scanned the class as he noticed more students flooding through the lecture room doorway, pausing once they landed on your awestruck figure. His deep gaze was what finally broke you out of your trance, forcing your legs to start walking towards your seat, as near to the front desk as you could get. You made a mental note to arrive earlier next time, even if you had to sit between 20 other thirsty students trying to get time with the professor.

You found that Jeong Yunho's class wasn't impossible (on top of his good-looking self, he was a profoundly competent teacher), but it also wasn't for the weak who only came to eye up the man teaching. That being said, the class dropped from seventy-odd students to 40 in the first few months, and the way your grades were going, you were next in line.

Every class, Professor Yunho would drag his eyes over your form as you tapped away on your laptop, making your stomach quiver and your head dazed. As more students left, he gave the remaining more attention, walking around to see if anyone needed help.

"Y/n? How's your work going?" he spoke over your shoulder just above a whisper to not distract anyone else in your area. His knuckles brushed against your back accidentally while gripping your chair, sending involuntary shivers across your body. You begged the man hadn't noticed how your body reacted to him just being in your vicinity for your self-preservation. He had. He always sensed your gaze on him while he was teaching; you weren't very secretive about it either, seeing as everyone else was looking down, typing out his words.

"It's- I'm good! I mean the work, not me. It's fine." You stumbled over your words, scared to see his expression at the fool you just made of yourself. You were stunned to see the corners of his mouth turned upwards, slightly eyes soft looking back at you. A simple smile from him managed to rip the air from your lungs so effortlessly.

In the short months that he had been your teacher, you became infatuated with the man. When you weren't in his classes, all you could think about was him. You wondered what he had for breakfast, what he was wearing today—although, not much was left to the imagination as your friends snapped pictures of him crossing campus and sent them to you. It annoyed you that they would do it without his consent, yet you still saved every photo to the locked collection on your phone. Not to mention your dreams lately; God, as if your mind wasn't a powerful enough tool to daydream with, your dreams went above and beyond; You'd wake up and need to hop in the shower from the mess you had made in your sleeping state.

The current reoccurring dream was you bent over his desk, his hand on the back of your neck and his hips ramming into yours. He grunted as he kept up his relentless pace. You found yourself almost drooling at the reminiscence of it again, looking around to see if anyone had noticed. You sat in the campus café, trying to refine your most recent assignment for his class; Your grade in his class was still at rock bottom—just then the little bell above the door signalled the arrival of another customer.

Oh. Professor Jeong Yunho strode through the door, his jacket in his arm and a backpack strap on his shoulder. He carried on to the counter ordering "the usual" and sat at a table near the window. The outside light framed his face perfectly as he watched people pass by, sipping on his cold coffee before pulling out a small stack of papers to mark. You had forgotten why you were even there until some people stood in front of your line of vision, forcing you to redirect your gaze. Fuck, the assignment you thought knowing it was due in 20 minutes, indicated by the sight of Yunho walking out of the door, not before nodding at the baristas- and you. His eyes did a quick scan of you before he walked away in the direction of your next class.

You had barely managed to finish it and make it to class on time, knowing you had hardly gone over your writing to check for errors.

"Y/n, Could you meet me after class in my office? I would like to discuss your current grades." His deep tone made you nearly fall out of your seat; you were so concentrated on your thoughts on how good he looked today, that you hadn't noticed him approaching you. You felt your stomach sink at his serious expression. Had you gotten too distracted by the gorgeous man, so badly that you were getting kicked out of his lectures? He walked away to start the lesson before you had a chance to even ask for specifics. This was going to be a long few hours.

"You wanted to see me, sir?" you looked at the man sitting at his desk, like a king on his throne. Even now, you could only think about how fine Yunho looked with his tie slightly loosened and sleeves rolled up showing off his biteable forearms. The way his long fingers tapped on his desk as he looked over at your form standing in his office door frame.

"Yes, close the door behind you and take a seat, please." Your heart raced as you sat across him meeting his gaze once again. "So your grades have been pretty low all semester y/n, but now it's reaching a point where you're going to fail if you carry on." He paused to stand up, before continuing," I've spoken to your other professors and checked your files, You've always had good grades, so what's got you so distracted in my class, hm?" he leans against the desk, the same side as you now and tilts his head. What do you even say? Sorry teach I'm so horny for you please do me against every surface in this room?

"I- I'm not sure, I'll get onto it though sir and-" You feel his presence step closer to you.

"You're not sure, are you? That's interesting, because I'm pretty sure I know what's got your little head so busy, so I'll ask again. What's got you so distracted, sweetheart?" He towers over you staring deep into your soul, feeling as though he can see every dirty thought flying around your brain. He brings his large hand down to your face, softly gripping your chin to stop you from averting your gaze again.

"...You." You whisper under your breath, opting to close your eyes, so you don't have to face him.

"Quick learner." Was the last thing he said before he pushed his face forward to meet your lips. As soon as you registered what was happening, you stood up and deepened the kiss you had been so desperate for. He gripped your hips and shoved you against the desk as his tongue swiped along your lip demanding access. Your breathing had become heavy and unstable, not feeling all that attached to oxygen now that you were attached to Yunho's soft lips. He broke the kiss to swipe his pen holders and a couple of papers off of his desk to replace them with your ass. Truthfully, Yunho had already packed all of his belongings away for the day, hoping that this would be the outcome of your visit.

You rutted against his body, back arching to get friction anywhere as he started toying with the waistband of your clothes, not pulling them down yet. "What do you need tiny? You need my cock? My fingers? My tongue? Tell me what you need baby." His voice had dropped into the sexiest, deepest tone; you could feel it in your body as he held himself against you.

"All. Everything." You huff out, still trying to gain friction on his forming bulge.

"I need to know more than that my star, tell me what you've been fantasising about while I've been teaching you." He's known what you've been thinking about for a while, you realise, making you feel even hotter in his grip.

"I… I thought about sitting under your desk, sucking you off while you try to teach the class, and you bending me over your desk as punishment…" You weren't able to stop the words falling out of your mouth along with heavy breaths as he pressed light kisses down your neck, groping your thighs and hips as you spoke.

"Such an obedient student, hm? Now I'm going to fuck you with my tongue, and if you're good, I might let you come on my fingers. How's that sound, baby?" you moan at his words, nodding your head frantically.

"Words." He sternly whispered on your neck, halting all of his movements.

"Please Yunho- sir", He shivered at you saying his name so needily and lifted your hips to pull off your trousers and underwear, stuffing the underwear in his pocket before dropping to his knees between your legs.

"Am I getting those back- ngh!" A moan ripped out of you before you could even finish what you were saying as he licked a stripe across your weeping cunt till he reached your clit. The feeling had you bucking your hips into his face, but he held your thighs in a tight vice, fingertips gripping into your soft flesh. He groaned as he ate you out, mouth working its magic as he brought you closer to relief. The way he flicked his tongue against you had you grasping his soft hair. You had been so desperate to do that since you first saw him; it was just as nice as you had imagined.

"You're so good for me," the heat of his words hitting your thigh as it kissed it, before bringing his index finger to your hole and filling you. You gasped at the intrusion, unable to concentrate on the sensations as he went back to sucking your over-sensitive clit, moans spilling out of your throat.

"Sir please let me cum- I can't-" you stuttered as he slipped another finger in and sped up his pace, realising you wouldn't have to ask twice for your approaching release. He felt your hole clench around his long fingers as you rode them through your orgasm. Yunho watched your fucked out face as he licked your overstimulated pussy once more, before pulling the zipper on his slacks down and fishing a condom out of his pocket. You sat up to help him pull his dick out of his boxers, him letting out a small whimper as you ripped the condom packet with your teeth and slid it down his hard-on painfully slow, earning a pinch on your thigh. God, he looked delicious like this; Hair dishevelled, trousers just pulled down only enough to have his cock out, his tie loosened and top buttons undone, soft tummy peeking out of the ridden-up shirt as he looked down at you through his lashes. You promised to never forget this arousing image when he taught you next.

"You ready my baby? Gonna fill you so well…" He lined up his hips before stuffing you with his thick length; the ache turning into immense pleasure within seconds. He let you adjust to his size once he had bottomed out, rocking into your pussy when you gave him the green light. You were on cloud nine the way he stretched you and dragged his cock against your G-spot immediately.

"Fuck you fit me so well, baby, so good for my cock. Wanna fuck your tight little cunt every day." He bit your ear lobe as he relentlessly impaled you on him over and over while you cried into his neck in pleasure. He had a way of pounding his hips so delectably it made you feel as though you could pass out from the way he pressed into you.

"Say my name sweetheart, say my name while I claim your desperate pussy, hm? Can you do that for me?"

"Fuck Yunho please keep—please harder."

He laughed at your weak voice, "You don't even know what you want, so obedient for me though- fuck," Yunho muttered as his thrusts became more frantic. He knew you were both close as you chanted his name into his shoulder, fingernails digging into his back. Yunho reached down to stroke your clit with the rough pad of his thumb tightening the knot in your stomach, still sensitive from the first orgasm.

"Yunho, please I'm gonna come-"

"Come for me baby, you can do it, cum on my cock" He slammed into your cunt a few more times before he stilled deep in you, your pussy clenching around him in sync. He stammered out more praises and sweet words as you came down from your high with him still in you.

He pulled out carefully as you leaned against his body with all your weight, not having the strength to hold yourself up anymore, and tied the condom, putting it in the trash.

"You doing alright, tiny? Sorry for going so rough on you, you did so well for me." Yunho asked in concern as he cleaned you up and picked up your trousers, still not returning your underwear. You looked into his sweet eyes, before reaching up to the nape of his neck and pulling him down for another kiss. His mouth still had traces of your arousal lingering, tasting sweet as he kissed you gently like you would break as easy as porcelain. Ironic.

"I'm good, Yunho- sorry, sir…" You weren't sure where the two of you stood after that, office yet to rid of the smell of arousal circling the room.

"Please, call me Yunho... Now, are you going to start focusing in my classes and stop eye fucking me every lesson, or do you need more… private lessons?"

You were pretty sure you were going to end the year with A++ with his special help.

OMGGGGG I melted while writing this bro, I hadn't ever planned on writing Dom!ateez bc I'm just a sucker for them as subs but this. This will not be the last.

Also thank you for 69 followers that's so funny 😭😭😭

[hellishjoel]

pretty little thing

4.9k /  dbf!joel/brat tamer!joel x f!reader

← masterlist

Summary:  After Joel misses two of your secret hookup dates, you send him a picture to show him just what he’s missing… while you're in Joel’s bed and he’s across the street at your dad’s house. 

Warnings/Information/Heads-Up: MA 18+ (minors DNI), no outbreak, smut, age gap (reader is in her early 20’s, Joel in his 40’s), sending/receiving nudes, dbf!joel, brat tamer!joel, a lil choking, oral (f receiving), fingering, pet names, praise, denial/edging followed by overstimulation, temperature play (kind of?), reader’s dad being a cockblock (TWICE)

A/N: based on this lovely request! I love dbf!joel, I’ll never get enough.  Masterlist

You had to take the perfect picture, one to show him what he was missing. You had to take one at just the right angle to show off your tits and the curve of your ass, the dark green lace material leaving little to the imagination.  Finally, you sent off the picture with a rush of adrenaline, biting on your nail as you smirked.  “Gonna have to start without you xx” And you weren’t lying.  Your hand moved down the smooth skin of your stomach, eyes fluttering closed as you let out a heavy breath feeling how wet you were growing. Breaking his rules felt like a flood of excitement.  It didn’t take him more than a minute for your text to go from Delivered, to Seen at 9:02 PM, to the little … messaging dots.  “Are you in my fucking bed?” He wrote back.

You have been so careful these past few months. You had followed his rules. 

1. Time Limit: If you were sneaking out of your dad’s house to meet up with Joel, you couldn’t stay the night. 

This usually meant you running barefoot across the road from Joel’s house before the sun peeked over the hill of your cul-de-sac and back through your cracked open window with time to spare. Joel wasn’t really a “sleep over, I’ll make you coffee and breakfast in the morning” type of guy. You snuck over, did your dirty deeds, and always left him wanting more by the time you slipped out of his dark gray sheets. Not so much more that he was begging you to stay, but just enough for him to invite you back over.

2. Exposure: Don’t awkwardly avoid each other in public. 

Joel, being your dad’s closest buddy, meant he was often over at your house for a number of reasons. Your dad had a boat down on the lake, so the two liked to fish. Your dad also owned a few nice motorcycles and always lent one to Joel so they could ride together during the summer. Sometimes, Joel would just come over because he was bored. With Sarah away at school, his entertainment was down to whatever beer he had in his fridge and the worn-in spot on his La-Z-Boy recliner catching a Rangers game. It was crucial not to avoid each other, or else it would just look out of the ordinary. Like something was going on between the two of you.

3. Paparazzi: No photos. 

It’s as basic as it sounds. No taking photos of each other during your hidden moments away from the rest of the world. That meant no snapping pictures of Joel while you were out at dinner a few towns away, no videos of him railing you (no matter how many times you begged him), and definitely no nudes. 

He had a bunch of other rules he had initiated over time, ones he made after you had broken an unknown boundary. 

“It’s better for us this way, darlin’.  Don’t want no one findin’ out ‘bout us.” 

It had been well over a week since Joel invited you over last. And you were actually going insane. You both kept a standing reservation for the other on Friday nights. Fridays were at the request of Joel. After a long week of work, all he wanted to do was to come home, have a shower, and fall into bed with you. 

You’d tell your dad you were going out with friends, and if your dad tried to hang out with Joel, he would say he was FaceTiming with Sarah that evening. 

However, that plan harshly backfired when your dad insisted he wanted to hang out with his friends on Friday nights, too. 

“Come on, Joel, call Sarah tomorrow. We’re going out to the bar for a drink!”

You loved your dad, but he was a fucking cockblock. 

“We’ll meet tomorrow night, baby girl. Can’t say no to your daddy when he just wants some company.” 

His text message to you Friday night left little comfort to the aching between your legs, a whine leaving you in annoyance when you hid away in your bedroom, having to help yourself for the night. 

Apparently, Joel missed the memo that he was supposed to join your dad for one of the Rangers’ night games that following Saturday. 

“Come on, Joely, it’s the Rangers against the fuckin’ Padres!”

Your dad did have a certain distaste for the Padres, a distaste he thought he would share with Joel over beer with chips and dip in the den. 

Now, you were angry. So sexually frustrated that you could punch a hole through the damn drywall. You had to watch Joel come over to your house, wearing the dark green flannel that was labeled yours on Friday nights, with his freshly trimmed beard scruff that he probably trimmed just for you the night before. 

His eyes read slightly apologetic when he glanced in your direction upon entering the house, but your revenge plans were already drawn out. 

“Daddy, I’m going out.” You said as you leaned down to kiss his cheek and grab your keys from the dish. 

“Two nights in a row, kiddo?” He asked, his eyes not straying from the TV, munching on a chip as he watched the wind up of a pitch. 

A simple “mhm” left your lips as you started to exit the den. Joel’s curious gaze slyly followed your exit, glancing over you slowly. “Well, that’s 23 for ya. That will be your Sarah soon. Going out every night, makin’ trouble.” Your dad laughed as he told Joel, but you could see there was no smile on his face as he let out a forced little grumble.

With little curiosity from your occupied father, you went out the front door and hastily moved across the street to Joel’s house. It tasted like rain in the air, the dark clouds looming overhead confirming it. 

You used the hidden key, your key, from under a plant at the back door and let yourself in, shimmying into the darkness that veiled the inside of his home.  

You didn’t need to turn on a light, the home had become a blueprint in your head from all of your late-night rendezvous. Besides, a light on might signal the attention of your dad or Joel from across the street. 

Your breath was tight in your chest, you were so excited. It wasn’t often that you had the upper hand with Joel, but if your plan worked like you hoped it would, he would be the one begging for you. 

You shimmied out of your top and pants, revealing a dark green lingerie set. His favorite color. You pulled back his comforter and got into the familiar dark gray sheets, your eyes fluttering closed for a moment at his smell that soaked the material. You missed him, you missed his attention. Focus. 

You took a deep breath and pulled his sheets back, your phone in hand as you lifted it above your silhouette with the flash on. You smirked as you looked at your beautiful body through the camera’s lens, admiring each curve and dimple. He loved every inch of you, he told you so himself. 

You had to take the perfect picture, to show him what he was missing. You had to take one at just the right angle to show off your tits and the curve of your ass, the dark green lace material leaving little to the imagination. 

Finally, you sent off the picture with a rush of adrenaline, biting on your nail as you smirked. 

“Gonna have to start without you xx”

And you weren’t lying. 

Your hand moved down the smooth skin of your stomach, eyes fluttering closed as you let out a heavy breath feeling how wet you were growing. Breaking Joel’s rules felt like a flood of excitement. 

It didn’t take him more than a minute for your text to go from Delivered to Seen at 9:02 PM  to the little … messaging dots. 

“Are you in my fucking bed?” He wrote back. 

He sounded angry, the dark gray sheets caressing you suddenly felt territorial. You were in his house without permission, breaking cardinal rule number 3. What if he didn’t want to see you again? Those rules were there for a reason, it’s what kept this little relationship going for so long. What if breaking the rules meant breaking off things? How many strikes did you get? You never truly asked. Did he even give you any strikes!?

Your heart thumped as your phone buzzed again, staggering to grab it and flip it over to see another text from him. 

“New rule. Don’t touch yourself without me there. I’m leaving now.” 

Your lips parted at the sight, a sly and excited smirk gracing your lips as you let out a fawning sigh. You were happy to know it was okay to break a rule as long as he was into it. Typical man thing, but duly noted. 

You decided to watch him leave your house from the corner of his bedroom window. He left in a hurry, his flannel clutched in his hand as he angrily paced himself across the street. Droplets from the sky left darkened dots on his short sleeve t-shirt, his pace kicking up for more than one reason to get inside his house. 

Hearing him set foot in the house made your legs flutter tighter together. You concealed yourself with his comforter, just your head popping out as you eagerly awaited for his body to peer through the doorway. You almost didn’t know what to do. Being in his house unannounced felt like you should hide. 

He didn’t immediately come upstairs, he was taking his time. What was he doing? 

Finally, you heard his thunderous boots hit the stairs, trudging their way to his bedroom. You purse your lips eagerly, one of your hands under the sheets slipping into your lacey green panties again. 

Joel pushed open his bedroom door, your face dropping at the sight. You had never seen him so angry looking. His eyes narrowed on you in that stone-cold way that made your lips part. Oh, look, his half-age situationship was holed up in his bed, begging to be fucked. 

You needed to muster up some words and fast. 

“Joel, I-”

“What.. the HELL do you think you’re doin’ in here?” He barked so loud that your eyes went wide, and you held the comforter over your body as a shield now. Any nerve you had running over here like this was fucking gone. 

Was his text only a ploy so he could make sure you were here so he could yell at you? 

Your lips parted when you realized what was taking him so long downstairs. He was lowering the fucking thermostat. A shiver shuddered up your spine, grasping the comforter closer to be tucked under your chin. 

You whimpered again, but this time more loudly, your desperate eyes meeting his stoic face. His fist was still clutching his flannel, his knuckles white, and the material surely crumpled up. 

“I asked what the hell you were doin’ over here, fuckin’ answer me.” Joel’s words were growled and low, a sorry spot in your stomach forming where your body’s heat drained. You had never seen this side of him before. With one foul move of his arm, he ripped back the comforter to reveal your half-naked body.

The cold rushed over you once more, leaving you whimpering as you pulled your hand out from where you were previously feeling up your slick. You needed to coax him out of his mood.

“I just wanted to see you, baby. Needed you yesterday… still need you tonight.” Despite the chill, you laid back in his sheets and accentuated your body, your hands smoothing over yourself. One hand cupped your breasts, fingernail gently tugging on your bralette strap while your other hand guided over the curve of your hip and played with the thin lace of your thong. 

He couldn’t help but let his gaze slip, taking a deep breath in through his nose while his eyes fell lower to the curve of your breasts amplified by the bralette. You were his pretty little thing, always have been, always will be. How could he resist you laying in his bed like this, all prepped and primed for him? Wearing his favorite color…

It didn’t take him long to decide, he wanted you just as badly as you wanted him.

Joel’s hand reached out first, his rough fingertips delicately brushing up the skin on your thigh, instantly causing goosebumps in their path.

“What did you say to my dad that he let you leave the watch party early?” You asked curiously, your eyes fluttering up to his amber ones. Another soft lightning strike hit in the distance and highlighted his taut jawline. 

He hesitated before answering, a sly smile slowly growing on his pretty lips. He grunted and rolled his eyes before answering. 

“Told ‘em I couldn't watch the shit show the Rangers were puttin’ on. Wanted to come home.” 

You giggled a bit as your hand reached up to tug at his belt a bit. 

“Emphasis on come home.” You teased, your heart fluttering thinking of how he showed up for you. 

Over time, Joel had developed this stupid hold over you, and when you didn’t get his attention, you could turn into a bit of a brat. Listen, once you have Joel Miller’s cock inside you, it changes your life. Going without it feels like a sick detox. 

“You wore this little thing for me, huh?” His southern drawl was enough to make your stomach churn in excitement, letting out a shaky breath as your head nodded against his pillows.

His pointer finger hooked into the material of your thong, your long eyelashes batting up to him. 

He was going too slow for your pace. You were about to speak up about it, but he interrupted your thoughts. 

“You were touching yourself.”

Your lips parted, and your lusted-over eyes began to focus again on his face. Suddenly, it got frigid again. 

“What?”

“When I pulled the covers back, your hands were in your panties. You were touching yourself.” The statement made your lungs tight. 

“I told you not to touch yourself without me here, you didn’t fuckin’ listen.” His words were spat with punishment, a loud whine leaving you as he pulled his hand from you. 

“Joel, please, I wasn’t-” “You really lyin’ to me right now?” His voice boomed, guilt soaking over you. 

“The new rule was established long after I touched myself, Joel.” Your tone was all sass, eyes glaring up at him for not giving you what you wanted. 

He let out a quiet little scoff and looked over you with a half-smirk. 

“Is that so?” His eyes were daggers. 

“Yep. When you ditched me last night, and I was left all alone, I..” Your voice trailed off, lips parting as you suddenly felt shy about getting off in private. At least, telling him off about it. 

“And you what?” His voice gritted, his head cocking up as he looked you up and down. 

You took a big inhale through your nose, sitting up as your body scrambled to get on your knees on the mattress. 

“And I fingered myself until I came. Since you weren’t there to take care of me, I did it myself.” You snapped, your arms crossing in front of you, shuddering a bit with the cold. Your nipples were taut peaks under the green bralette now. 

He slowly nodded, assessing what to do with you behind his eyes, weighing his options. 

“Is that so?” 

Your lips parted as you glanced down, his bulge resting heavily against his thigh. Ugh! Why wasn’t he putting it to use? You were right there!

You supposed he decided enough was enough, and Joel was ready to play. 

Your skin was doubling in goosebumps, whimpering as his warm hands nearly felt like they were searing you as he pulled you in by your waist, leaning down to connect your lips in a dirty haste. 

A happy moan was released from the depth of your throat, arms instantly locking around his neck and tugging his hair at the nape of his neck to keep him close. You could feel him shuffling with the kiss, smirking against him as you felt him kick his boots off blindly. 

“Joel, baby, it’s too cold.” You whispered to him as your lips moved to sponge kisses up his bearded jawline, a new patch of silver and white hairs adorning his lower cheek that you paid special attention to. 

He pulled away for a moment and got a better look at your face. “You really want me to go downstairs right now and change-” 

“No.” You quickly said, with a slight smile as you pulled him back in. 

He settled on the bed, clothes on and all. You were about to fall between his legs, but he was already positioning you where he wanted. 

He was sitting up now with his back against the headboard, an empty space between his legs where he encouraged you to sit. You moved in with a small smile, your back to his front with his jean-clad thighs around your hips. His hands began to explore you, his lips attaching to your neck as your head fell back onto his shoulder, eyes blissfully falling closed. His calloused hands felt over what he pleased, cupping your chest as he bit into your neck before moving down to your wet panties. 

You had been aching for hours, days even for this man’s touch. 

A stray moan left your lips, head still lulling around on his shoulder. You felt his arms constrict around you, arms pinned at your sides, and when you tried to move them, his only grew tighter. 

“Joel,” you whimpered, his digits slipping into the front of the material as he slowly moved his fingers up and down your slick. 

You yearned to hold him, kiss him, do anything to keep yourself distracted from his neurotically slow pace. 

“Joel-” you said in a short-tempered warning tone. 

Suddenly, his free hand was on your throat, your eyes clenching closed as he held you in one spot, fingers slowly circling your now throbbing clit. 

“You got started without me, figure’ you’d want all this attention.” His low voice growled into your ear, a futile whimper leaving your lips. 

“If you’re gonna act like a brat, not gonna give’ya what ya want.” An exhausted sigh left your lips, head slacking back against his shoulder again as his hold on your throat loosened.

It was painful the way he tortured you. His ankles had locked yours to be spread wide, your trembling legs giving away your impending orgasm. 

You were damn near lapping like an overworked dog in the sun every time he got you close and stopped all movements, tears threatening to spill at the frustration. 

He had been circling your engorged clit for who knows how long now. Your head had fallen limp on his shoulder and bicep, your back was either strictly straight with electricity or slumped against him with Joel practically holding up your weight. 

“J-Joel, I can’t keep taking this, please,” you whimpered. You looked like a wreck. Your mascara made your eyes teary, smudged black on your waterline, and your mouth was dry from all your broken moans and gasps. 

Your desperation didn’t change his mind. He was a stone wall right now. This was maybe the third time he denied your orgasm. You lost count. Your body no longer had the strength to hold itself up. And no matter how hot your body got each time you came close to an orgasm, the cold chill rushed back in just as he pulled away. 

“Gonna have to keep takin’ it, naughty girl. Broke more rules than I can count on both hands tonight alone.” You let out a disgruntled sigh, feeling his boner nudging against your back. 

A soft smirk graced your lips as you took what strength you could muster, your heels digging into the mattress as you grinded back against him. Your lips parted at the feeling of him poking into your ass, purposely moaning his name against the shell of his ear. 

The action only worsened your punishment, his fingers moving at a lightning-fast pace suddenly.

“F-Fuck! Joel!” A clap of thunder concealed your cries, harsh rain pitter-pattering against Joel’s window. You wiggled in his hold, breathing heavily as you begged him to let you cum.

“Please! Please! Please, Joel! Please!” One of your hands gripped his large thigh for stability, your nervous system a wreck as you tried to muscle through another one of his denials. Your heart raced, just at your peak and ready to pop, nails clenching into his jeans as he went to an all-halting stop once more. 

This time, he let your body go and moved out from behind you, your body in shambles as you fell into his pillows. You felt numb, yet so short-circuited. Your brain could barely hold a thought besides what he made you say after every denial. 

“I will not disobey the rules.” Joel’s voice scolded, whimpers leaving your lips as they parted, but you couldn’t work out the words for a moment. 

“I will not..” He started to lead you, your trembling thighs begging for more attention.

“..disobey the rules.” You mustered up, eyes fluttering open to meet him. 

This may seem like torture to anyone who didn’t know the full context, but Joel was quick to console you into bliss after each denial. 

“So good for me baby girl, come here.” He mumbled quietly as he cupped your cheek and turned you to look up at him,  stars in your eyes as he kissed your forehead, nose, and pouted lips. 

You hummed happily, your lazy hand slinking up to hold his hand that was on your cheek. 

“I learned my lesson.” You whispered, throat swollen from crying and begging all night. 

“Yeah, did you?” He asked almost mockingly. 

You nodded tiredly against the pillows, thighs still twitching at the thought of cumming. 

“You wanna cum tonight, baby? Think you deserve it after acting like a brat all night?” Joel muttered, his hands gently throwing his dark green flannel over your top half to keep you safe from the cold. 

You nodded eagerly and took the peace offering, snuggling his warm flannel around your body. It smelled like him and a little like the rain outside. 

Your eyes glanced at the comforter across the room. Better not to ask. 

“How do you wanna come tonight, darlin’?” Joel muttered, his warm hand cupping your outer thigh and gently shaking it to watch your ass jiggle. It made you feel your warm, sticky arousal still soaking your pussy. 

“Mm, want your warm tongue, Joel. Keep me warm.” You moaned softly, turning your head to see a slight smirk gracing his lips. 

“Alright angel, perk up now.” Joel directed as you moved onto your knees and bent over in front of him, your head laying to the side as your ass was up and spread for him. 

The cool air breezed over your panties, biting down on your lip as you felt him pull the material down and stretch around your thighs. His greedy hands gripped your ass, your cheeks flushing as he admired you from behind. 

“Like what ya see, old man?” You hummed teasingly, rutting your hips back until his firm hands stopped you in place. 

“Watch it.” His tone was warning you, squeezing at the flesh. 

You eagerly waited, your jaw dropping as you felt his warm lips kiss down your wet slick. 

“Oh-, Oh, Joel..” You moaned quietly, your hands at either side of your head gently gripping the sheets. 

His mustache and trimmed beard hairs tickled your upper thighs, your eyes fluttering closed as his warm tongue flattened against your core. 

Such a greedy fucking man, licking up all the slick he caused since he came home. You were just a feast for him now, getting all your juices worked up and on display for him. The thought made your stomach churn. You were already so close to coming, he didn’t even plunge a finger into you yet. 

It’s alright, you thought, because as long as he kept giving your clit attention and you could cum, it was a win in your book. 

A shaky whimper spilled into his bed sheets as his fingers gripped more into your juicy ass, spreading you open as he worked slow figure-eights around your clit. It was like a gentle massage to your throbbing core. He was practically milking you. 

What made you even wetter was hearing him moan against your pussy, the vibrations throwing your body forward. You would have fallen away from him if his hands weren’t gripping your hips so tight. 

Oh god, it was a lot now. You were so tender, so aching, now he was showering you with affection and it was too much. 

“I- Woah, Joel, wait-” You gasped as your back arched, and you threw your head back, hair going everywhere as Joel began to feast your orgasm from you. 

His tongue didn’t stop, lapping and licking with generous speed. 

“Too-too much, I- fuckkk,” you whined as you began to pant, eyes widening as you felt his mouth pull off you.

“You said I could cum.” You breathily pointed out at his absence, about to turn your head around and complain until you felt two of his meaty fingers slowly push into your fluttering pink walls. 

“Love watching your cunt get filled up, baby.” His words were purring, rolling off his sick tongue and pooling right into the base of your stomach. It left you whimpering. 

You could feel him fill you up to his knuckles, your eyes reeling back into your head as your head laid defeatedly in his mattress. 

His lips resumed their place around your clit, suckling just enough that you could feel his teeth grazing your sensitive nub. 

It was so much, too much, sooo good. 

Your breathing grew labored, your stomach clenching every time his tongue massaged your pussy in just the right way. He had you right where he wanted you. You were worried he would stop again, just like he did the time before, and the time before that, and the time before that. 

“Please-” You whimpered tiredly into the sheets, mumbling into the material.  “Please don’t leave me.” 

You could feel his cheeks quirk up in a smile on your skin. “Not goin’ anywhere kitten, you know I love how you taste.” His words made you gasp, grinding your hips back into his face. Joel was going to let you cum. 

The squelching noises of your pussy being fucked by his fingers filled the room, his tongue relentless on you now. You were a whimpering, moaning mess. You could feel your slick trickling down your thigh, a loud moan bellowing out of you as you felt Joel lick up the trail before returning to your cunt. 

Finally, you were giving way. Your hips were shaking in his hold, his name coming out in pants as his facial hair tickled you into an unexpected orgasm. You were surprised he finally let you cum even though he had promised you would, your body grilling into the mattress at the pressure points of your body. 

“Yes- yesyesyes- Oh! Fuck-” You breathed out, your face crinkling as your long-awaited orgasm thrilled your body. At last, you came. You felt like you could breathe again, think again. Why wasn’t he-

Your tired head looked back at him, watching as he didn’t back off long after your orgasm had come and gone.

“Joel- Joelll-” Your voice went out in half-ass warning since it was a moan. He wasn’t letting up. 

“No- Fuck Joel, no, please, I can’t!” Your voice was high-pitched and raw, letting out a long, drawn-out cry of his name as he overstimulated your throbbing clit. 

“Yes you can, baby, know you can.” His voice was drenched in sex, dirty old fuck. 

You heard a tear, one of your hands having ripped the sheets and making them shred in your hand. You didn’t care, neither did Joel. 

His fingers massaged at your walls, curling and searching for that spot that was just right. But you didn’t need it anymore, you could have been done. But Joel never did anything you expected. 

The noises of your wet cunt filled the room, along with moans of your name from Joel. He finger fucked you so good you thought you might squirt on his tongue. You were restless, your body moving all around as much as he would allow as you tried to find comfort. It was pointless. 

His tongue continued to lap and lick at your swollen clit, feeling it desperately tingle from all the attention. You craved Joel’s touch for over a week, but it was suddenly too much once you finally had it. 

Your body was hot despite the cold he conspired against you, your shaky hand reaching back, clutching the hair at the top of his head and fisting it as you kept him against your core. It was so good it hurt, it hurt so much it was good. And since he was already back there, he might as well make you cum again. 

The tension was unbearable,  your clit begging for a break. But Joel just kept going and going, and suddenly, you were cumming again. Your brain went blank, the orgasm making you numb as you slumped in his hold. It was sweet, overwhelming, but still sweet. He always made you feel good like this, heavenly. Like you were the only woman on Earth he ever spoiled like this. 

He cleaned you good, even teasing your clit with random licks that made your body jolt. 

You panted tiredly, sweat in every crevice of your body. Your tired eyes only focused on the sheets you shredded, twirling the piece around your finger. 

“Joel..” You whispered breathily, your soft eyes looking slowly back at him. Your walls were still fluttering around the intrusion of his fingers, watching as he slowly reeled them back. Now you felt empty. He spread the two digits apart, watching in a sweet fascination the way your slick clung to his fingers. He was sick in the head the way he put them in his mouth and licked them clean. 

He looked effortless as he laid down beside you, pulling two whole orgasms and three almost orgasms from you.

“I hate you.” You murmured as your head nuzzled against his shoulder, feeling his arm swing up to let you into his side as his strong arms reeled your limp body into his. 

“Y’owe me a new pair of sheets.” His voice also sounded tired, but it was laced with teasing. He reached behind you for his flannel and threw it over your upper half again, a comfort after the storm. 

“Needed new sheets anyway. I’ll help you find a better set tomorrow.” You hummed as your tired arm came up to lay on his chest, drawing shapes over his shirt as his hand gently stroked the hair away from your sweaty forehead. 

“Let’s see how well you can walk tomorrow. Then we’ll talk.” He sneered, a shy grin on your lips.

“Deal.” —————- Taglist: @jrrmint @gracieispunk @macfrog @strang3lov3 @notjustjavierpena @bastardmandennis @joelslegalwhre If you'd like to be added to the taglist, please reply on this post.

[the-hottest-band-tournament]

Round 8 of The Hottest 80s Band Tournament

Guns N’Roses 

Defeated opponents: ZZ Top, Pantera, A-Ha, The Go Go’s, Fleetwood Mac, Mötley Crüe, Hanoi Rocks

Formed in: 1985

Genres: Hard rock 

Lineup: Axl Rose- vocals 

Slash- lead guitar

Izzy Stradlin- rhythmic guitar

Duff McKagan- bass

Steven Adler- drums 

Albums from the 80s: 

Appetite for destruction (1987)

G N’ R Lies (1988)

Propaganda: “The sluttiest a man can do is be in the Guns’N Roses’s original lineup” 

“Watch this video and tell me slash doesn't have pretty boy babygirl swag”

“Whoo! Time for more Guns N’ Roses propaganda (and by that I mean an excuse to gush about Steven Adler, one of my favorite drummers/people ever)

First off, look at him. This is, and so cannot stress this enough, one of the cutest people I’ve ever seen. Ever. Look at him! (And also, he’s a drummer so he’s fun-size - he is 5’7 at most and at least some of you reading could pick him up)

And he’s one of the greatest and most fun drummers to ever live. I’ve heard maybe 3 other drummers who are as fun to listen to and who have as good of a feel for matching the actual emotion of a song (harder to explain with drumming, but even though they’re both love songs, wouldn’t do the same solos for Patience and Sweet Child o Mine - it’s the same deal here). The demo for Back Off Bitch runs laps around the full version and half of that is because of him.

Izzy Stradlin himself has said that he gave early Guns N’ Roses their feel and that things got weird and “nothing worked” without him (I swear to god that’s a direct quote). You know how hard it is to get a guitarist or singer to recognize and actually admit that? And he’s never made a bad song or sounded boring, and that’s really rare for 80s-era hard rock drummers. Even Tommy Lee’s had his weird songs and I can’t say the same here.

And some bonus propaganda before I write another five paragraphs”

Queen

Defeated opponents: Green Day, Earth, Wind & Fire, The Psychedelic Furs, R.E.M., Duran Duran, INXS, Depeche Mode

Formed in: 1970

Genres: rock, glam-rock, hard rock, pop-rock, pop, disco

Lineup: Freddie Mercury- vocals 

Brian May- guitar 

John Deacon- bass 

Roger Taylor- drums 

Albums from the 80s: 

The Game (1980)

Hot Space (1982)

Flash Gordon (1982)

The Works (1984)

A Kind Of Magic (1986)

The Miracle (1989)

Propaganda: “HAVE YOU SEEEEN THEMMMM???? these men never lost their looks as they aged. smoking hot 20 somethings to smoking hot 40 somethings. in their own words, "we was glam" and "we were all stunning". all four had impeccable style choices 99% of the time, from leather jackets and wraps to monochrome to undone blazers and ties to brightly coloured /everything/. Deacon changed his hair style every few years and even in just tshirts and booty shorts, never missed. Roger had a sleazy mullet and sunglasses for what felt like forever, hot Persian dad, did not miss. Brian forgot how to fully button shirts. bell bottoms. same hair for 50 years. no misses. even after Freddie got sick and started wearing makeup and had to grow a beard to cover up, MAN NEVER FUCKIN MISSED. he was beautiful to the day he died. and thats not even touching on the leather daddy look from the early 80s.king shit. we love wrinkles and laugh lines in this gd house. if they don't sweep I’m blowing this whole website up we was glam”

“a few years back i was obsessed with these guys and i would find it hard to not have a crush on all of them. in the 80s especially Brian was GORGEOUS.. BEAUTIFUL”

Visual propaganda for Guns N’Roses:

Additional propaganda here and here

Visual propaganda for Queen:

[empresskylo]

hai hai!! i have some cod nsfw headcanons ^_^ hope you don’t mind i just have brainworms that need to be let out

price has a MASSIVE (pun intended) size kink. he loves having your small frame beneath him, just manhandling you everywhere >_<

simon is actually really gentle. he definitely has dacryphilia, but the first time you started crying during the act, he got so scared :’( you had to reassure him you were alright ! now he can be more rough, even downright mean at times .

gaz looks like the most ‘proper’ of the 141, but he’s freaky !!! he’s really into degradation and praise, and he’s a huge ass man idc idc ! but he’d also spend hours with body worship just taking care of u

soap’s favorite position is cowgirl / just you riding him, he loves seeing his dog tags dangle between ur tits, holding your hips and just having you on top :p

aah that’s it sorry for spam </3 love your writing

I NEVER MIND HEADCANONS ARE WE KIDDING?!!!

price having a size kink makes my brain malfunction. like i neeeeeed that man. i’m so sorry but i also feel like he’d have a bit of an age gap kink. he’s not that old—he’s like what? late 30s early 40s??—but he secretly really likes dating someone way younger than him. the fact that irl i’m like oh ew gross at those kind of men! but in fiction, i’m like i want that man down bad and obsessed with the fact that he’s larger and older than you. need him to feel like he’s taking advantage of you: being older, bigger, and in higher power, and he hates how much he gets off on that.

no im obsessed with simon being a gentle lover. the thing is, i love him soft and rough, so combining it is just 😩 him being so sweet and slow and gentle at first, but once you convince him you’re ok with him being rough, my man goes a little crazy. he loves to leave bruises on you. loves to degrade you (“look how easily you spread your legs for me. pathetic.” “beg for it, love”). loves to toss you around like you’re nothing. loves seeing your eyes water when he’s just pounding the shit out of you, the way you struggle to form coherent words. if you don’t have tear stains by the time he’s done, he clearly didn’t do his job right. but that’s not every time.. he’s still gentle and takes his time and whispers sweet praises in your ear in between. like UMMMFFF.

gaz is younger (and acts like it) so ofc he’s freaky. i don’t think he gets too weird with it or too obscure in his kinks, but he definitely likes to try new things. he lovesssss to talk dirty, watching you get flustered beneath him from just his words is his favorite thing. and my guy lovessss eating puss lmao. he definitely texts you randomly “please let me come over and go down on you. i just miss you so much.” like he straight up doesn’t expect anything in return, he just likes to get off by pleasing you and needs to taste you or he’ll lose his marbles.

i feel like entire fandom has all agreed soap likes it when his girl is on top 🤪 and they’re right!!! he is most definitely and without a doubt, a boob guy. so watching them bounce as you ride him sends him into aerospace. he is obsessed with watching you work yourself on top of him. and he can be dominant when he wants, but a lot of the time he likes when you take charge. he goes crazy when you shove his chest back down as he tries to sit up and you just mercilessly ride him until he’s a whimpering mess.

thank you for this, anon. i always love seeing other peoples headcanons <3

[owliellder]

The Finer Details

Post DI! Leon Kennedy x Painter fem! Reader

MDNI 18+

(Session 1, Session 2, Session 3, Session 4, Session 5, The Reveal)

Description: Leon realizes that retirement is in his best interest now that he's getting older. All of his accomplishments as an agent mean he's truly earned a painting to commemorate..

Warnings: Not Proofread, Age gap! (reader is anywhere between mid-late 20's and Leon is 40), Porn w/ Plot, Use of she/her pronouns, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Alcoholism, mentions of trauma/PTSD/depression, P in V smut (wrap it NEOW), Leon cries during sex 💔

Tags: Older Leon Kennedy, Younger afab!Reader, Leon is SAD but he is your muse, Crying, mentions of Leon masturbating, starts off with Dom! Leon and Sub! Reader, falls into switch territory because that man needs some serious TLC, Praise kink, Hickeys, Handjob, Nipple play, Oral sex (m! and f! receiving), and a heavy dose of Aftercare

Author Note: I'm actually thinking I might be doing one chapter every other night, but I would also like to draw on my comically large art tablet at some point this week, so I might skip a day or two.

Cross posted onto AO3

Session 2: Color Matching

You partially regret just agreeing to "tomorrow", seeing as this man decided that he wanted to show up at 4am.

It was the original time set for yesterday's session, and you guess he felt bad for being late, but god damn he texted you an hour earlier telling you he'd be there by 4am. Dragging yourself out of the comfort of your bed was difficult, but in the end it was worth it to draw such a stunner.

You had to get there before Leon did, so there you were; half awake, dressed in a pair of fuzzy pants and a loose t-shirt, and a small cup of tea in your right hand while the other fumbled with the keys to your little work room.

That was the greatest part about your job as a professional painter. You didn't have a dress code.

Though most days you did try to look your best, some days it was just easier to be comfortable. Besides, it's not like tons of people come and see you everyday, it was usually just one person at a time.

It was 3:47am by the time you'd gotten to your workspace and settled, sitting on one of the many floor pillows in the living area you put together away from the actual painting setup. The tea was warm, it was keeping you sleepy, but you couldn't stop taking small sips. It was in your hands, there wasn't much you could do to stop yourself.

You told Leon to just come on in when he arrived, not wanting to walk all the way back down just to lead him back up. The stiffness from sleep was still in parts of your body, so you knew it would be difficult to get up, even when he did finally stride through that door. He dressed nicely today, just what you needed him to do.

Wanting to relish in the dim yet warm lighting of your various lamps for as long as possible, you beckoned the man to come over and sit with you, which confused him slightly. He thought you would be ready to get started once he showed up, but he wasn't one to argue so early in the morning. Instead, he shrugged and slowly sauntered over to you, taking a seat on a floor pillow across from yours.

"Good morning." Leon grumbled quietly, his voice barely hiding the fact that he wasn't quite awake either. That rumble in his chest made your stomach flutter. "Good morning to you, too." You responded, closing your eyes for a moment to take another sip of your tea.

"When uh-" He cleared his throat, putting a fist up to his mouth as he did so. "When are we gonna get started?"

You furrowed your eyebrows, moving the cup away from your lips to stare at him. "I wasn't expecting to be up so early, so just give me a few more minutes to wake up and then we can turn my main lights on."

Leon sucked on his teeth as he thought, turning his head to look over out one of the windows as he rested his wrists on his knees. "Oh, yeah, sorry. Just wanted to make up for being late yesterday."

You laughed softly before letting out a quiet sigh, setting your tea down on the low coffee table sitting behind you.

"Don't worry about it, but also don't make me get up so early again, old man." You attempted to joke, immediately noticing the wince on his face at the nickname. To divert, you stood up and stretched, patting his shoulder as you walked by him. "Alright, let me pull my stuff out and then we can get started."

Leon followed you with his head, taking a few seconds before standing up himself, pressing his hands onto his knees to help get up from the floor pillow.

"I'm just going to be color matching your tones today. I won't do all of it since obviously lighting changes throughout the day, buuuut..." You trailed off, beginning to rummage through a drawer in one of your desks before pulling out handfuls of paint tubes. "I just need to pull out the basic colors I'll be using."

It was still pretty dim in the room which caused you to have to squint to see the names of the colors on the tubes. Leon found that partially amusing, his chuckle causing you to glare playfully over at him. "Something funny?"

"As funny as it is to watch you go cross-eyed looking at those," he smiled, gesturing with his thumb to the light switches near the door. "I feel like it'd be easier to just turn the lights on."

"My retinas will be fried if those get turned on-" You were cut off by your own shout when Leon took the liberty of turning the lights on himself, laughing as you quickly moved to cover your eyes.

He only had to squint for a second before his eyes adjusted. You, however, were not expecting the sudden change, so you got an eyeful of bright white light. Complete and utter agony that lasted for a full five seconds.

By the time you moved your hands away from your eyes, they were watering and you had to squint for awhile longer. "Give me a warning next time you decide you want to try and murder me like that." You said, wiping away the few stray tears you'd produced from the light sensitivity. "You might live in the light, but I don't!"

The man shook his head and crossed his arms, smile still plastered to his face as he slowly made his way over to the chair in front of your easel. "That's payback for calling me an old man."

You twisted your head around to the chair so you could give him an indignant look, catching a glance as he was putting his hands up in defense with a small "what?" before you turned to look down at the tubes of paint sitting next to your hands on top of the desk.

"Nothing, just wasn't expecting to work with a toddler, that's all.." You mumbled, smile creeping onto your face as you heard him click his tongue from behind you. "I was an old man not five minutes ago and now I'm a toddler?" Leon asked, voice peaking dramatically.

"Yes, you have quite the range, Mr. Kennedy." You began sifting through the various paints you'd pulled out, humming softly as you contemplated what route you wanted to take with them. Stick to primaries? Add secondaries? Should I just use every color I need? Hmmm..

Leon watched as you stared at the paint tubes you'd picked up, tilting his head to the side slightly to try and get a better look. He snapped his head back upright when you started to speak again. "I'm trying to decide whether or not to use a lot of different colors, or just stick to a minimum.."

It was almost as if you knew what he was wondering. "Uhh... what's the difference...?" The man questioned, raising an eyebrow as you turned around, seemingly having made your decision already.

"Using just the main 6 colors-" You turned around and were faced with his very confused stare, causing you to explain a little better. "The main colors you see in a rainbow."

He breathed out a quiet "ahh" at that. Okay, good. He knows his basics. Cute...

"I can mix just red, blue, and yellow at varying degrees to get any color I need. Adding green, purple, and orange will help even more." You pursed your lips, lightly tossing the paint tubes in your hands before setting them down away from the other tubes. "I need white also. Damn.."

"What's wrong with white?" Leon asked, leaning forward a bit to watch you dig in the drawer for a tube of white oil paint.

"Nothin'. Just forgot, is all. Trying to keep this as authentic as possible..." You mumble, quickly closing the drawer with a slam after pulling out the paint you were looking for.

Silently nodding his head in acknowledgment, Leon turned his focus to his surroundings again, admiring your choice in decor once more. He bought a nice decorative pillow for his couch yesterday after being here the first time.

You grabbed a few strips of thick white paper, running your thumb along its textured surface before setting them down. You told him to stay where he was as you set up a small art palette, little dollops of the paints sitting neatly in the circular grooves.

"I'm gonna make color swatches of your skin for myself." You spoke up as you suddenly turned and walked towards him, holding the palette in your left hand while holding the strips of paper and a small yet flat paintbrush in the right. "Also, I'll need to get a picture of you in the position you want, but I'll do that after all of-" you waved everything you're currently holding in a small circle. "-this."

Leon simply responded with an "oh, okay", his knee beginning to bounce as you quickly began to mix little bits of your paint together to get a simple pale skin tone down before you even attempted to match his.

As you worked, you were starting to grow nervous with the silence, and clearly the man in front of you was as well, given he had started to sweat slightly on his forehead. He wasn't nearly as conversational as the last two agents you painted.

"So.. you've earned yourself a portrait..." You smiled slightly, holding up the strip of paper you'd brushed your mixed paint on to see what colors to mix in next. "What'd you do to earn one?"

Leon hummed. It was hard to think about every mission he's gone on, all the horrors he bore witness to, the people he saved, the people he couldn't save, how it all started, and now the fact that he's done-

"Hey, woah, I'm sorry." The sound of your voice drew him away from his thoughts. "I didn't know that would be a.. sore subject for you." He blinked at you a few times, furrowing his eyebrows soon after. "What?"

You pulled the strip of paper away from his face, pulling your lips tight with a shrug of your shoulders at his response. "You suddenly looked mad. Like... really really mad. I thought you were gonna snap at me or-"

"No. It's just bittersweet, is all." Leon cut you off, waving his hand dismissively at you before nodding once down to the paint palette in your hand. "You can keep going."

You stayed frozen in your crouched position for a few seconds longer before continuing to swatch your paint. You kept silent, not wanting to seem like you were antagonizing him.

"I used to be just a cop." The man suddenly said, causing you to look up from where you were mixing your paints together. "Only for a single day, but I was a cop. Simple as can be."

You nodded, beckoning him to continue with a small smile, which he did. "I'm sure you've heard about some of that already though, since you worked with Claire not too long ago."

His comment caused you to let out a small "ohh" in sudden recognition, nodding your head again. "Yeah, that's right! She mentioned you on that, okay.."

Leon continued to talk about all of his missions vaguely, still having to keep confidentiality in mind. You let him drone on, having gotten his skin tone matched in a few different areas now. You stopped to scribble on the papers with the paint swatches, making sure to label where each tone came from on his face and hands.

You took note of how he circled back to his single day as a cop and to certain missions. His mention of saving the president's daughter had you immediately smiling. That was a straight ticket to earning his own portrait in that hall of the White House, he could've done just that his entire life and he still would've been seeing you at some point.

You focused on mixing your paint for a little while before noticing he had grown quiet, looking up to see him staring out the window, a faint orange glow from the sun rising highlighting his features. And his tears.

Growing concerned once again, you set down the paintbrush on the palette so you could place a gentle hand on his shoulder. It seemed he didn't notice that, too lost in his head to notice anything at this point.

"Hey..." You asked with a soft voice, your eyebrows furrowing with worry. "We don't have to talk about it anymore, you know..."

Finally, Leon looked back at you, eyes widening once he realized how watery his eyes were. He turned his head away so you didn't watch him wipe the tears that had fallen down his cheeks and use his sleeve to dry his eyes. It wasn't like him to be so easily bothered by this stuff.

"I just need one more color swatch and then you can go, okay? We can save the photo for another day." You gave the man a weak smile, one he didn't reciprocate. You understood.

He looked like he wanted to say something, but you filled in for him. "Seriously, it's no trouble at all. If you need more time then you need more time." Standing up from your crouched position, you left your half-finished color match swatch with the finished ones before walking over to set everything down on the desk.

You didn't want to crowd the poor man. That was probably the last thing he needed. Despite having only painted for a select few, you've learned to just step away from these retired agents when things would go awry. It was akin to a war veteran suffering from PTSD; they did almost have the same experiences as far as you could tell.

"I'm sorry."

Leon finally managed to say to you, his hands anxiously rubbing up and down on the tops of his thighs. Must be a nervous tick.

You angled yourself so you could see him while your body still faced the desk, smiling at him while your hands worked to neatly stack the strips of paper before clipping them together with a paper clip.

"There's absolutely no reason for you to apologize." You kept your smile as you responded to Leon, looking back down at your hands to make sure everything was put together properly. "You forget I strictly work with agents like yourself. From all the vague tellings, I know that the job is tough on you guys; body and mind."

It was weird having someone outside of the agency talk to him about this kind of stuff. It was weird for him to be bringing it up in the first place. Or, at least he felt like it was.

"Still, I should know better than to do that." Leon sighed, rubbing his hand along the side of his face before stroking his chin, scratching at the stubble growing.

"Know better than to do what? Let yourself process everything you've been through?" You spoke in almost a whisper. If your tone was any louder, you fear you'd come off as accusatory.

"I get it. Really, I do." Leon groaned quietly at your words, causing you to click your tongue. You grabbed your swivel chair and scooted it over so you could sit in front of him, and when you did, you brought your legs up to sit criss-cross just like yesterday, only there wasn't a table separating the two of you. You looked solemn. He didn't like where this was going.

"The whole point of painting you a portrait is to honor you and your work as an agent, but it's not just about getting yourself painted." You leaned forward in your chair, elbows resting on your knees, all the while keeping your voice hushed and gentle. "Seeing the portrait once it's finished is going to be an incredibly emotional ordeal. It's a reminder that this is truly the end of an era for you, Mr. Kennedy..."

Your words were really starting to strike a chord for Leon. He hadn't given it much thought. He didn't want to give it any thought at all. All he thought was "I'm just going to get myself a nice fancy portrait and be done with it". He didn't even consider what the portrait of him would actually symbolize.

"Oh." Was all Leon could muster, letting his gaze fall into his lap where his hands now sat clasped together. If it weren't for the comfortable environment you had set up here, he probably would've bolted ages ago.

You let him think everything over for awhile, wanting to give him all the time in the world. Clearly he needed something, but he wasn't allowing himself any sort of leeway.

It took some courage building internally, but you decided to stand up, taking the one step closer to him before placing your hand on his shoulder once more. You squeezed it a bit, bringing his attention back to you as he lifted his head up.

You attempted to smile at him, moving your hand off his shoulder so you could hold your arms out slightly. This man needed a hug and you were more than willing to offer the leeway he wasn't granting himself.

Leon stood up rather quickly which surprised you, and startled you just a bit, before feeling his large arms tightly wrap around you. It was a little awkward since he had to bend a bit to hug you properly, but it worked out in his favor, and yours too, since he got a better opportunity to bury his face into the crook of your neck.

He sighed happily when he felt your arms slowly wrap around his chest, doing your best to squeeze him for that extra bit of comfort, even rubbing up and down on his back. It had been so long since he had a real hug. It felt good.

You let him hug you for as long as he needed, which was longer than expected, but definitely not unwelcome by any means. Though, his warm breath against your neck and the smell of his cologne was causing you to blush. That's really the last thing you needed him to see after being so vulnerable and open with you.

You felt him start to pull his head away, prompting you to pat his back gently as an end to the hug. Despite the fact that it was faint, it was clear to you that he was blushing when you were finally able to look up at him.

You wanted to remain calm for Leon, letting out your nervousness through a quiet cough. "I know we've only met up twice, but if you ever need a change in scenery, just know that my workspace here is always open to you. I'm always open to you, okay?"

Your words were making him feel weird. Something he hasn't felt in a long time was creeping up his chest. Your smell lingering on his coat wasn't helping, either.

"Yeah-.. yeah, okay." Leon huffed through his nose, reaching up to scratch at the stubble underneath his jawline as he averted his gaze to the floor.

The sun was fully up now, so you walked over to where the light switches were next to the door, flipping them off. All your other ambient lights could be turned off later. For now, you needed to focus on the man still standing in front of that maroon chair.

"You can stay if you feel you need to, but I just want you to relax." You said, looking over at him as you heard his footsteps slowly walk past you to the living space.

"I'll head out." Leon bent over and grabbed his motorcycle helmet from where he'd set it down on the rug near the floor pillows. He placed his on his head as he walked over to where you stood next to the door, not really wanting anyone to look at his tear-stricken and red face any longer.

Once he finished fiddling with his helmet, you reached out and took his hand in both of yours, patting the top of it softly. "Text me when you're ready to come back over."

You couldn't see Leon's face anymore since he'd put the visor down, but you could definitely see him nod his head. He opened the door and let himself out, touching the side of the doorframe as he rounded the sharp corner and walked down the stairs.

After closing the door behind him, you started walking around your workspace to turn off all the lamps and other ambient lighting, pausing to listen to the sound of his motorcycle start up and drive off.

[milkteahood]

a ghost for a knight

medieval au, chapter 1

Simon Riley x fem!reader

Summary: your father, the king, makes his strongest knight keep watch over you due to you constantly disobeying the rules.

slow burn romance, eventual smut, age gap (reader is in her 20s while ghost is in his late 30s/ early 40s)

You thought he was merely a myth. Or at least, sort of. You heard the whispers, the other knights talking, but you never actually saw him.

Your father, the king, wasn’t allowing you to leave the premises of the castle, as you were the only heir. To you, he was just a story, a ghost. And to him, you were the same thing, for you had no idea your father was keeping you a secret. Only the most loyal to the family knew about you. So Simon had no idea why the king summoned him.

***

“That is a very good idea Your Highness” the advisor spoke.

“I just want her to be safe is all. She… she really inherited my temper” the king closed his eyes and rubbed one of his temples.

The crack from the secret passage was just enough for you to listen to the conversation. Someone was coming. Someone that was supposed to keep you safe. Safe from what? you thought to yourself. It’s not like I’m allowed to go anywhere.

As quiet as a mouse, you tiptoed away from the passageway and back into the labyrinth hidden into the castle. You knew every door, every crack. In case of a war, you could easily escape. Spending your free time hidden within the walls, listening to everyone’s conversations was something you found incredibly amusing. You knew which of the servants liked you and which couldn’t stand you. The only thing you found bothersome is not getting there in time to listen to your father’s whole conversation. You wanted to know who was coming. Is he planning to marry you off?

***

Exactly two weeks after the initial hearing of your father’s conversation is when the whispers started getting louder. “He is here” “The Ghost” “The Night” “The King’s most trusted” “The Myth” “The Legend”. And it was during one of your latin classes that the servant interrupted to announce that you were supposed by the king.

“Your Highness. The King is summoning you to the throne room” the servant spoke with a bow.

“What is it about?” you asked raising an eyebrow.

“I do not know princess”

“Very well”.

And with that, you stood up, a million thoughts running through your head.

Making your way down to the throne room, beautiful dress dragging behind, you felt a little anxious. After taking a few breaths, you let it known to the guards was alright to open the doors for you.

There stood your father, his advisor and a man. He was dressed like a knight and wore the kingdom’s crest, but you have never seem him before.

Your father’s voice broke your chain of thoughts.

“Y/N. Please step closer. There is something I need to tell you”

“Yes father?” you approached, giving him a small bow. He might’ve been your father, but he was also the king.

“I am aware of your little getaways” his tone was cold, but not angry.

You didn’t dare say more. You knew it was just a matter of time until he found out about your sneaking away from the castle into the forest.

You could feel the man’s eyes on you. He was taking you in.

“I have considered locking you away too” your father continued after a pause “but I know what I raised. You’d eventually escape a cellar too. So, there he is” he gestured towards the man “Sir Simon Riley. The most trustworthy knight and soldier I have. He is from now on in charge of looking after you and keeping you safe”.

***

“I cannot believe this” you finally spoke once you were far enough the hallway “I have been given a nanny”

“Seems like it, princess” Simon said.

“Don’t get smart with me”

He didn’t respond.

***

And so there he always was. When you studied, he was in the room. When you slept he was just outside. He only spoke if spoken to and always walked a couple steps behind you. Only when you’d request him to walk by your side did he ever do that.

There was no more sneaking away into the secret passages. That was something your father didn’t know you did, and you didn’t know just how much Simon reported back to him.

Life began to feel increasingly boring. You felt almost trapped, even more than you previously did. So you started to hatch a plan. How could you get away from Simon, even if it was just for a couple hours. The best solutions are always hidden in plain sight. Simon only ever left your side when you wanted to rest. Of course, he was just outside your door, but you had all the room to yourself. All the room and all the ways outside of it.

So that same evening, you told the knight who was worse than a shadow at this point, that you felt incredibly tired and would return to your chambers earlier.

“As you wish, princess” was all he said as he took his place in front of your door.

You changed out of your gown and into something more suited for what you were about to do.

A wave of adrenaline washed over you as you slipped your shoes off, as to not have your footsteps be heard, and very quietly opened your window. The sunset was magnificent, the breeze cool against your skin. Your room wasn’t very high up, making it very easy to decent off its balcony.

The grass was a little wet under your feet, and you took your sweet time to enjoy this little freedom. But, just as you were about to make a run for it through the palace’s garden, a strong hand wrapped itself around arm.

“Did you really think I was that stupid?” he almost hissed at you.

Your whole mood completely deflated in that moment.

“Well… I sure hoped you’d be” you replied.

His grip on you only tightened, enough to tell you he wasn’t in the mood for your games, but not hard enough to actually hurt.

“I just, really wanted to see the sunset”

“You can see it from your balcony” he replied coldly.

“But”

“No”

“I’m the princess!” you protested.

“And I answer to your father, not you, brat”.

He almost dragged you back inside, marking the first night Simon moved into your room. The king was right, Simon thought. You really were a flight risk. And when his head was on the line, he really wasn’t going to take any shit from a brat half his age.

do not repost my work anywhere. Reblogs are welcomed and appreciated.

pictures were taken from Pinterest. I take no credit for them

[piningforstan]

Too Sweet

Summary: Stan has lied and cheated and fought his whole life, and he’s not exactly sure when he had time to do whatever it took to deserve you.

Pairings: Stanley Pines x Reader

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: mention of an age gap, suggestive adult content but nothing graphic, fluff with some light angst

A/N: Inspired by Hozier’s song by the same name!! I seriously need an edit of Stan to it

Also, an age gap LI with Stan (like they’re in their 30s or 40s) just really does something to me. Stan mentions “women” once in the story but otherwise I wrote it with the intent of being GN.

A shift of the mattress roused him from his fitful sleep. Stan cracked open an eye. The flickering alarm clock told him that he’s only been asleep for a few hours, he vaguely remembered creeping into the bedroom sometime after three. Dreaming peacefully then, free of punishing nightmares, you now stood with your back to him, stretching your arms up over your head.

His gaze traveled appreciatively from your head to the slip of skin revealed by your t-shirt lifted ever so slightly. Pale morning light slanted into the room in thin bars thrown across your face. You hum to yourself as you pull on your bathrobe and shuffle into the bathroom, Stan watching you from heavy lidded eyes the entire time.

A groan climbed up his throat. He threw one arm over his face.

What was he doing?

He didn’t miss the time when he would wake up alone, head muddled by alcohol. He missed the time when he did not feel so goddamn guilty. Your presence reminded him constantly that you were too…good for him. He had lived a long, shitty life and it never bother him — his decisions, his lifestyle — when he was by himself. But now you were here.

Not only were you younger than him, you had never done a fucking bad thing in your life. You went to bed at a decent time and always woke up early to watch the sunrise, you faced everything with unflinching enthusiasm. You smiled and laughed and danced without inhibition or regret. And, worst of all, you looked at him and loved him in spite of his mistakes and wrongdoings.

When the bathroom door opened he quickly pretended to be asleep again, the knot in his stomach tightening as you stopped to press a kiss on his cheek on your way out.

By the time he actually woke up, he didn’t even want to acknowledge the time, Stan shuffled into the kitchen to find his family immersed in a heated debate. Mable stood on her chair with Waddles on the table, gesticulating wildly while you and Dipper argued with her.

Upon spotting Stan, Mable cried out, “Grunkle Stan! We need your help.”

Stan scratched his chin. “What is it, kid?”

“If Waddles was going to wear pants —”

“They would be like this, right?” You intervened before Mable could finish, drawing a line around the pig’s midsection then gesturing towards his back half. Dipper nodded, signaling his approval.

“No, no, no, no,” Mable said, “it would be this way. To cover all his wittle wegs.”

She indicated the imaginary pants around his entire body, covering the entirety of his lower half. Stan stared in disbelief as the debate lapsed into an argument once more.

“I need coffee,” he grunted.

Without even stopping, you pressed a steaming mug into his hand, then raised your eyebrows expectantly.

Stan sighed. “Why is the pig wearing pants? That lucky son of a gun has been naked since the day he was born.”

“Just hypothetically,” Dipper said.

Turns out, Stan’s opinion wasn’t actually needed. Rather, you and the twins set to speculating about the possibility of pig pants without including him. Eventually he just collapsed into one of the ancient chairs and sipped his coffee, willing his headache to go away. He noted affectionately how passionate you were about this topic of choice, always ready to leap into whatever strange scheme his family concocted.

After some time Mabel loudly exclaimed that she was going to knit pants for Waddles to “prove everyone wrong!” and the debate dispersed. Dipper stormed off muttering, leaving Stan alone with you.

You looked still deep in thought as you collected your own now cold coffee and sat back down. You poured in about half the container of sugary creamer.

“You should’ve been on my side,” you sniffed. Stan knew by the hint of a smile on your mouth — god, your mouth — that you were teasing.

“My policy is always no pants,” Stan said. “No doubt about it. No pants.”

You rolled your eyes. “Clearly.”

Stan shifted in his seat, grinning at you. He never bothered putting on pants in the morning, just his reliable ol’ boxers.

“Hey, you’re lucky I’ve got these on. Anyways, you weren’t complaining last night by —”

“FORD!” You quickly exclaimed.

Stan’s grin only grew more pronounced as his brother strode into the room. If Ford had heard the tail end of your conversation, he didn’t mention it. More often than not Sixer was so completely in his own world that he barely knew he had company.

Stan liked how your cheeks were still pink as you bid Ford good afternoon. Afternoon. Fuck.

Panic spiraled through him.

“I’ve got a tour to give —”

You waved your hand while sipping your coffee. “I rescheduled it for…” you consulted your phone, “thirty minutes from now. Better hurry, old man.”

“Thanks, kid. You really saved my bacon.”

“Again,” Ford muttered.

Stan shot him a glare but still hurried out of the kitchen to get changed. He glimpsed Mabel in the living room, crisscrossed on the carpet, measuring Waddles for his pants. The pig snorted pleadingly in Stan’s direction.

“Women,” Stan said, “always making guys like us put on pants.”

Stan would have to be his brother to count on his fingers how many times you anticipated something he needed. The coffee. The tour. A distraction for the tourist when the googly eye of one of the exhibits popped off. A redeeming interpretation of his reaction to Waddles’ pants after spitting out his beer. Then, to top it all off at the end of the day, encircling your arms around his middle and sagging into him. His heart surged with profound emotion.

“Ah, c’mere, kid,” he mumbled against your hair. You smelled like home.

Stan held you tight. Too many times he had let the good things in his life go, slip right through his grip. He was determined not to lose you too.

He fumbled to find the words he’s been meaning to tell you all day. “I, um…thank you. For today.”

For every day.

The words stuck in his throat.

“For what?” You blinked at him. The need to protect you, to preserve your happiness and well-being, seized him so strongly that it took him several moments to compose himself.

“Ya know.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Saving my ass. Yer, uh, too sweet for me. Ya know what I mean?”

How many more times would he say ya know? Did he know any other words?

Your face lights up anyways. “I love your ass. I will always save it. Don’t want anything happening to it.” You squeezed said ass playfully and he smirked in response. “But seriously, Stan, you don’t have to thank me. I love you. That’s what you do for someone you love.”

Stan bristled. No matter how long he had been with you, after several months of skittering around each other, he wouldn’t get used to those words leaving your mouth. His parents had never uttered them, nor his brother. Hell, he rarely said it, can only remember saying them to you.

If he ever said them to anyone else — any past lovers or ex-wives — it was in a placating nature, never like this. Never real.

“Anyway, you do lots of things for me too,” you tell him.

“Do I?”

You lay your head back on his chest. “I always fall asleep before you do and you always make sure to tuck me in and refill my water when you come in. You make me laugh and you make me feel safe.”

You kept listing examples but truthfully he had stopped listening. Stan realized he did do these things, things that he didn’t even think about doing, he just did.

“—maybe you’re just too sweet for me,” you finish, drawing him back.

“Ha!” Stan laughs. Hopefully it’s more convincing than it sounds to his own ears, self-deprecating instead of secretly pleased. “Better not let anyone else hear you say that or I’d have to give them a knuckle sandwich.”

“THEY FIT!”

You closed your mouth. Whatever you were going to say is swallowed by the sounds of Mabel’s excitement. Stan smiled at you as you grabbed his hand and tugged him towards the sound of Mabel’s demands — come here! come here! — and Waddles in his new pants.

He committed everything about you to memory as you stooped down to admire Waddle and commend Mabel for her hard work. Stan knew that you would fit in perfectly with his family. He never would’ve guessed that someday he couldn’t imagine his family without you in it, couldn’t even conjure a day without you there.

Maybe you were too sweet for him.

But he was sweet on you.