#instead of leaving us to wonder how long the heat will be off this time

[urdreamydoodles]

Hi!!!

May I request something a little angsty to sweet?? 😈

An X-men x teen!reader with that one trope where it’s like:

“You’re not my dad/mom!”

“I know that, do you?”

With characters: Scott Summers, Logan Howlett, Storm, Beast, Magneto, and gambit

X-Men x Teen!Reader

You tell them that they are not your dad/mom during an argument

In the heat of the argument, the words slip out—sharp, hurtful. Their faces fall, stunned and wounded, but there’s a quiet pain in your own heart too, because you know the truth. Later, in the stillness, you find yourself beside them, whispering apologies, and they hold you as if to say: family isn’t only blood, it’s chosen.

Characters: Logan Howlett, Remy LeBeau, Kurt Wagner, Scott Summers, Jean Grey, Ororo Munroe, Charles Xavier, Erik Lehnsherr, Hank McCoy, Wanda Maximoff, Pietro Maximoff & Wade Wilson

Ooh, you little evil spawn... I love this prompt, and I hope I have reached your expectations <3

Logan Howlett aka. Wolverine

- Logan’s temper is legendary, but he’s always managed to keep it in check around you, knowing you need stability. However, the moment you shout “You’re not my dad!” during a heated argument, he feels a pang of anger and hurt. He’s spent years looking after you, guiding you in his gruff way, and in that second, it stings. Without missing a beat, he snaps back, “I know that, kid. Do you?”

- There’s a cold silence afterward, and Logan storms off, muttering under his breath. He knows he’s not technically your father, but you’re family to him. As he sits alone, drinking and stewing over the argument, he wonders if maybe he’s failed you somehow. He thinks back to the times he’d pulled you out of trouble or taught you some hard-won survival lessons, realizing just how deeply he cares.

- That night, the silence weighs heavy, and you feel a growing sense of regret. Logan has been the one constant in your life, a steady (if rough) presence who’s always had your back. You think about all the times he’s risked himself for you, the moments he’s tried to be there in his quiet, sometimes awkward way. It dawns on you that, without Logan, your life would be far lonelier—and that he truly has become a father figure.

- The next morning, Logan’s in the kitchen, frying eggs and bacon, trying to act like everything’s normal. When you finally muster up the courage to apologize, he doesn’t make it easy. He just grunts, flipping the eggs with a rough edge to his voice, not looking up. But he listens. After you tell him how much he means to you, he lets out a long sigh, and with a gruff but softer voice, he tells you, “Kid, you drive me crazy, but you’re family. You know that?”

- Later, you notice Logan starts going a little easier on you, keeping the snark to a minimum and checking in a bit more often. The bond between you grows even stronger, and while he’ll never be openly affectionate, you sense the quiet pride he has in you. If anyone tries to mess with you, Logan’s first in line to make sure they regret it.

- From then on, whenever you call him “Logan” instead of “Dad,” he just smirks and raises an eyebrow, as if daring you to say what you really feel. In his own way, he’s let you know that titles don’t matter—he’ll always be there, watching your back like only a true family member would.

Remy LeBeau aka. Gambit

- Remy isn’t exactly the “strict parent” type, so when you start an argument with him, you’re used to his laid-back attitude. But this time, he gets serious, which shocks you enough to yell, “You’re not my dad!” Remy’s face goes still for a moment, then he raises an eyebrow with his usual calm demeanor, saying softly, “I know, cher. Do you?”

- Remy’s response hangs in the air, and he turns on his heel, leaving you to stew in the aftermath. You’re left alone, staring after him and feeling a pang of guilt. Remy has always treated you like family, his warmth and charm making you feel safe and wanted. You remember the countless times he’s been there for you, offering wisdom and laughter, even when you’ve messed up.

- That night, you can’t shake the look on his face—calm, yes, but with a hint of sadness. Remy’s always seemed so self-assured, but in that moment, it felt like he genuinely wondered if he’d overstepped. You begin to realize just how much he’s done to make you feel like you belong, without ever asking anything in return.

- The next day, you find Remy in the Danger Room, practicing. Nervously, you walk up to him and mumble an apology, explaining that you didn’t mean what you said. He turns to you, an understanding smile softening his gaze. “S’alright, kiddo. I know you got fire in you. Just remember—blood don’t make family.”

- After that, Remy’s even more of a constant presence, always ready to talk, laugh, or lend a hand. He starts making a point to remind you of your strengths, pushing you to see the best in yourself. Whenever he sees you slipping into self-doubt, he’ll casually throw in a story of one of his own mistakes, just to remind you that he’s been there too—and that he’ll always be there for you.

- Over time, you come to see Remy not just as a mentor, but as family, someone who chose to be in your life. He might not have the official title of “dad,” but there’s no question about the bond between you two. Remy’s heart is as big as his charm, and he’s shown you that family is something you build, piece by piece.

Kurt Wagner aka. Nightcrawler

- Kurt’s patience seems endless, so when you yell, “You’re not my dad!” in the heat of an argument, the words shock you as much as they shock him. He’s silent for a moment, then replies gently, “I know, but are you sure?” He’s hurt but gives you a sad, understanding look before stepping away, giving you space to cool off.

- Afterward, the guilt eats away at you. Kurt has been nothing but kind and supportive, teaching you about acceptance and resilience, even when things are tough. His faith and positivity have been a guiding light in your life, and the thought of hurting him like this twists at your heart.

- You remember moments when he went out of his way to include you, especially when you felt like an outsider among mutants. Kurt has always been there, understanding what it’s like to be different and offering comfort when you needed it most. It hits you that, despite not being your biological father, he’s filled that role with all the love and patience he has.

- The next day, you find Kurt alone in the library, reading. You approach him, nervous but sincere, and apologize for what you said. He listens quietly, and when you’re done, he gives you a warm smile, saying, “It’s alright, mein freund. I will always be here, no matter what.” His forgiveness is immediate, his kindness knowing no limits.

- After that, Kurt becomes even more of a confidant, someone you know you can turn to for wisdom and understanding. He makes a point of reminding you that love is a choice, and he’s chosen you as family. Whenever you’re down, he’ll tell you stories of his own struggles, showing you that strength comes from within, even when life gets hard.

- The bond between you two only deepens, and Kurt’s gentle presence is something you come to cherish. He may not be your dad by blood, but he’s family through and through. Kurt’s unwavering faith in you becomes a source of comfort, a reminder that you’re never truly alone as long as he’s around.

Scott Summers aka. Cyclops

- Scott is used to being responsible and disciplined, so when you snap, “You’re not my dad!” during a heated disagreement, he doesn’t take it lightly. He stands there, tense and quiet, then responds, “I know. But do you?” before walking away, clearly hurt but too proud to let it show.

- That night, you can’t stop replaying the argument in your head. Scott may be strict, but he’s always had your best interests at heart. He’s spent countless hours training and guiding you, doing everything in his power to prepare you for the dangers of the world. As you think back, you start to feel the weight of what you said, realizing how much you’ve taken him for granted.

- You begin to understand that, in his own quiet way, Scott has been a father figure to you, even if he doesn’t say it outright. Every stern lecture, every training session—it was his way of protecting you, showing he cared. The guilt eats at you, and you know you need to make things right.

- The next morning, you approach him in the War Room, nervous but determined. You tell him how much his guidance means to you, how you didn’t mean what you said. Scott listens carefully, his expression softening as he nods. “We’re a team, and that means we’re family,” he says firmly. “I’m here for you, always.”

- From then on, Scott’s support becomes even more evident. He may not be the most openly affectionate, but he makes it clear that he’s in your corner, no matter what. He starts opening up to you more, sharing his own struggles with responsibility, letting you see the weight he carries as a leader and mentor.

- Over time, you come to appreciate Scott’s steady presence, realizing how lucky you are to have him as a father figure. He may be tough, but his loyalty is unwavering, and he’ll always have your back. In Scott, you find a kind of steadfast strength that reminds you every day that family isn’t defined by blood—it’s built on respect, care, and unwavering support.

Jean Grey aka. Marvel Girl / Phoenix

- Jean’s kindness is boundless, so when you shout, “You’re not my mom!” during an argument, her expression drops, a mix of shock and sadness. She takes a deep breath, her voice calm but strained, and says, “I know, but I care about you just the same. Do you know that?” With that, she steps back, giving you space to cool down, but the sadness in her eyes lingers.

- In the quiet that follows, you feel a pang of regret. Jean has always been there for you, her gentle support unwavering, guiding you with both warmth and patience. You remember the countless times she’s been there to comfort you, a soothing presence who never hesitated to make you feel loved. The memory of her expression, the way her shoulders slumped, makes you feel worse.

- That night, you find yourself replaying the argument over and over. You begin to realize how much Jean’s presence has shaped your life, that she’s been more than just a mentor or friend—she’s been like a mother, even if neither of you ever said it out loud. Each memory fills you with gratitude and a growing need to make things right.

- The next day, you find Jean in the garden, tending to the flowers with her usual care. Tentatively, you approach her, stumbling over an apology. She listens, her eyes soft as she pulls you into a gentle embrace. “It’s okay,” she murmurs. “I know these things aren’t easy. I’m here for you, no matter what.” Her forgiveness is instant, her hug comforting, as if she understands all you can’t say.

- After that, Jean becomes even more of a mother figure, offering a patient ear and a shoulder to lean on whenever you need. Her kindness is a quiet strength that you come to lean on more and more. You notice she checks in on you more often, making sure you know she’s there, even when words don’t need to be said.

- Over time, you come to cherish her presence even more, recognizing her as your found family. With Jean, you feel safe, loved, and valued, and her quiet guidance reminds you every day that family doesn’t have to be by blood. It’s in the love you choose to share, and Jean’s love is as steady as the rising sun.

Ororo Munroe aka. Storm

- Ororo’s calm strength is like a force of nature, but when you yell, “You’re not my mom!” it’s as if a storm has passed through her eyes. She doesn’t lash out, doesn’t even raise her voice, but she looks at you with a steady gaze and says, “I know that, little one. Do you?” Her words are gentle but piercing, and she leaves you to ponder them.

- That night, as the weight of your words sinks in, guilt gnaws at you. Ororo has always treated you with kindness and respect, guiding you through life’s challenges with wisdom and care. She’s been your rock, the person who’s grounded you, and you feel ashamed for taking her love and protection for granted.

- You think back to all the moments Ororo has been there for you: teaching you about the world, sharing her culture, and encouraging you to be true to yourself. You realize that she’s been more than a mentor—she’s been family. Her quiet strength and unwavering love have been like the rain, nourishing you and helping you grow.

- The next day, you find Ororo on the rooftop, gazing at the horizon. Gathering your courage, you apologize, explaining how much she means to you. She listens, her gaze as steady and calm as ever, before she gently places a hand on your shoulder. “I forgive you,” she says with a small smile. “Family isn’t always about blood. It’s about the bonds we choose.” Her words bring you a comfort you hadn’t realized you needed.

- After that, Ororo takes on an even more motherly role, gently guiding you and always offering wisdom when you need it most. You start spending more time together, finding solace in her presence and strength in her words. She reminds you of your own resilience, always making you feel capable and valued.

- Ororo’s love becomes a source of strength, and you come to see her as family in the truest sense. Her support is unwavering, her guidance is steady, and with her, you find the sense of belonging and family you never realized you craved. She’s a mother figure, not by title but by choice, and her love fills a space in your heart you hadn’t known was empty.

Charles Xavier aka. Professor X

- Charles rarely shows disappointment, but when you yell, “You’re not my dad!” during an argument, there’s a flash of hurt in his eyes. He looks at you thoughtfully, his calm, composed demeanor intact, and simply says, “I know that, but are you sure?” before quietly excusing himself. His voice is soft, but the weight of his words lingers.

- As the reality of your words hits you, a wave of guilt follows. Charles has dedicated himself to making you feel safe, offering guidance, structure, and endless patience. He’s been more than just a mentor—he’s been a father figure, the one who’s always there to listen and guide you without judgment.

- You begin to reflect on all the small gestures he’s made to show he cares, from teaching you with kindness to offering you advice when life felt overwhelming. Charles has seen potential in you from the start, treating you with respect and compassion, and the thought of hurting him leaves a knot in your chest.

- The next day, you approach his study, nervous but determined to apologize. Charles listens, his usual calm presence enveloping you in a sense of safety. He smiles gently, nodding as you express your regrets, and simply says, “I understand, and I forgive you.” His forgiveness feels like a weight lifted, and he reminds you that love and family are choices, not just obligations.

- After that, you feel even closer to Charles, and he continues to be your steadfast supporter. He encourages you to pursue your strengths, guiding you with wisdom and patience, and you start to see him as a father figure you can truly depend on. His calm understanding becomes a source of comfort, a reminder that family can be chosen and built on mutual respect.

- Charles’s influence becomes a grounding force in your life, his guidance always there to lift you up. With him, you find a sense of belonging and love that goes beyond mere words. He may not be your biological father, but he’s family in every way that matters, and his unwavering belief in you becomes a constant source of strength.

Erik Lehnsherr aka. Magneto

- Erik is not known for his patience, so when you yell, “You’re not my dad!” it’s like a slap to the face. His eyes harden, his voice cold as he responds, “I know, but perhaps you don’t.” With that, he turns away, his pride wounded but his expression betraying a flicker of sadness. For Erik, family is sacred, and your words cut deep.

- That night, guilt starts to creep in. Erik has been harsh, yes, but he’s always shown you the value of strength, resilience, and conviction. He’s taught you to be bold, to stand up for yourself, and though his methods are tough, he’s been there for you in ways that no one else has. You begin to realize how much you owe to his guidance.

- Memories flood back of times when Erik’s fierce loyalty protected you, his dedication ensuring you never felt alone. He’s been like a father to you, albeit a strict one, and as the guilt weighs on you, you see that his rough edges have been his way of showing love, even if he doesn’t say it outright.

- The next day, you approach him with an apology, your voice shaky but sincere. Erik listens, his piercing gaze softened by something like understanding. He accepts your apology, and in his own stern way, he reminds you that strength is born of struggle. His words are harsh, but his forgiveness is there, hidden beneath his rough demeanor.

- From that moment on, Erik’s presence becomes even more of a steady force in your life. He challenges you to be your best, pushing you to embrace your potential, and though he rarely shows open affection, his actions speak louder than words. He’ll protect you fiercely, his bond with you deepening as he takes on the role of a mentor and protector.

- Erik’s influence makes you feel strong and capable, and while he’s a difficult figure to love, you know that he’s chosen you as family. His pride and determination inspire you to believe in yourself, and even if he’ll never say it directly, his loyalty is proof that you’re family to him, forged through fire and unbreakable.

Hank McCoy aka. Beast

- Hank is rarely one to raise his voice, but when you blurt out, “You’re not my dad!” in the heat of an argument, he freezes. For a moment, he’s quiet, his face clouded with hurt before he gives you a calm but serious look. “I’m aware of that. But I’ve always tried to be here for you, haven’t I?” His voice is gentle, yet his words sting in a way you hadn’t anticipated. Without another word, he leaves, giving you the space you both clearly need.

- As you cool down from the argument, guilt quickly sets in. Hank has been nothing but patient and caring, always offering you understanding and support when you needed it most. His gentle presence has been a source of comfort, and the memory of the sadness in his eyes makes you realize how deeply you’ve hurt him.

- Reflecting on all the times Hank has been there for you, you remember how he would stay up late to help you with your studies, his voice soft and encouraging as he shared his vast knowledge. His kindness was never forced; he genuinely cared, and you start to see that he’s been like a father figure all along, even if neither of you ever put a name to it.

- The next day, you find Hank in the lab, engrossed in his work as usual. Hesitantly, you apologize, struggling to find the right words. Hank stops what he’s doing, looking at you with that familiar, gentle expression. “I appreciate your apology,” he says, his tone warm and forgiving. He doesn’t need to say much to make you feel better; his soft smile is enough to lift the weight from your shoulders.

- After that, Hank is still there for you, but the bond between you feels stronger. He seems to make an effort to check in on you more often, even gently guiding you through life’s challenges with his usual wisdom and warmth. You realize how much you’ve come to rely on him as a steady presence in your life.

- Hank’s compassion and patience become pillars of support as you grow, and he becomes more than just a mentor—he’s family. His encouragement and gentle guidance make you feel valued, and you start to understand that family isn’t just about blood; it’s about those who choose to stand by you, even when things get tough. With Hank, you’ve found a father figure in the truest sense.

Wanda Maximoff aka. The Scarlet Witch

- When you yell, “You’re not my mom!” in a heated moment, Wanda’s eyes flash with pain. She takes a deep breath, her voice steady but laced with hurt as she responds, “I know I’m not. But I’ve always tried to be there for you, haven’t I?” Her voice is soft, a mix of sadness and disappointment that lingers in the air as she turns away, giving you the space you clearly need.

- Guilt settles over you like a weight as you recall everything Wanda has done for you. She’s been a constant source of love and protection, going out of her way to create a safe space for you in a chaotic world. Her kindness has been unwavering, and the memory of her hurt expression leaves you feeling remorseful.

- You begin to remember all the times Wanda has comforted you, her gentle presence like a soothing balm when the world felt overwhelming. She’s always known what to say, her intuition guiding her as she wrapped you in warmth and reassurance. You realize how much her presence means to you, that she’s been a mother figure even if you never said it.

- The next day, you approach Wanda, the words of an apology on your lips. She listens, her eyes softening as you explain how sorry you are. She pulls you into a gentle hug, murmuring, “It’s okay. I understand.” Her forgiveness is immediate, her embrace warm and reassuring, and you feel the weight of your guilt lift as you lean into her.

- After that, Wanda continues to be there for you, her love as constant and unwavering as ever. She’s more protective, always ensuring you know you’re loved and valued. Her presence feels like home, a reminder that family is more than just titles; it’s the bond you share and the love that endures even through difficult moments.

- Over time, Wanda becomes even more of a mother figure, her guidance and love anchoring you as you grow. With her, you find a sense of belonging, a family built on mutual care and understanding. Wanda’s love becomes a source of strength, and you come to see her as family in the truest sense.

Pietro Maximoff aka. Quicksilver

- Pietro has always been quick to defend you, so when you shout, “You’re not my dad!” during an argument, his face falls, his usual bravado replaced by a flicker of hurt. He hesitates, then responds with a hint of vulnerability, “I know I’m not. But I care about you, and that’s not going to change.” He doesn’t say much more, leaving with a hint of frustration and sadness.

- Your heart aches almost immediately after the words leave your mouth. Pietro has always been a constant in your life, fiercely protective and ready to do anything to keep you safe. His loyalty has been unwavering, and the memory of his hurt expression weighs on you, leaving you feeling guilty.

- As the regret settles in, you begin to think back to all the moments Pietro has been there for you, his fast-paced life slowing down whenever you needed him. His protectiveness might come off as overbearing, but it’s always been rooted in love. You realize how much you mean to him, that he’s been like a father figure, even if neither of you put it into words.

- The next day, you find him in the training room, going through a series of drills. Nervously, you approach him with an apology. Pietro pauses, listening intently, and his usual cocky grin returns as he wraps an arm around your shoulder, saying, “Don’t worry, kid. Family fights sometimes.” His words are light, but there’s a warmth in his tone that makes you feel forgiven.

- From then on, Pietro is still as protective as ever, though he seems to make an extra effort to remind you that he’s there for you. He includes you in his adventures, always finding ways to bring laughter and excitement into your life. His loyalty is fierce, and you find comfort in the way he’s chosen to stand by you.

- Pietro’s support becomes a source of strength, and over time, you come to see him as family. He’s there for you in ways that matter, his love loud and unfiltered. With him, you’ve found a father figure who’s more than willing to face the world at your side, his loyalty a constant reminder that family is chosen as much as it is given.

Wade Wilson aka. Deadpool

- Wade’s never been the most conventional parental figure, but when you snap, “You’re not my dad!” he goes silent. It’s rare to see him at a loss for words, but the hurt that flickers across his face is hard to miss. After a pause, he says, “Hey, I know that, but... I kinda thought we had something here, y’know?” He tries to play it off, but the sadness in his voice lingers as he gives you space.

- Almost immediately, regret starts to settle in. Wade has been your protector, your friend, and even if he’s unconventional, he’s always made sure you’re safe. He’s taught you to laugh, to find humor even in dark situations, and the thought of hurting him leaves a bitter taste in your mouth.

- You think back to all the times Wade has made you feel cared for, his offbeat sense of humor a constant source of comfort. He’s been like a father in his own chaotic way, always finding unique ways to show he cares. The memory of his hurt expression haunts you, and you feel a strong need to make things right.

- Finding Wade isn’t hard; he’s at the usual hangout, cracking jokes to mask whatever he’s feeling. You approach him, offering an apology, and he listens, his face breaking into a goofy grin. “Oh, kid, you can’t get rid of me that easy!” he teases, pulling you into a bear hug that’s both ridiculous and comforting.

- After that, Wade goes back to being his usual chaotic self, but he’s even more protective, throwing around jokes about being your “self-appointed, totally unofficial, slightly psychotic dad.” His antics make you laugh, and you come to appreciate his unique way of showing love, realizing he’s been there for you all along.

- Wade’s love may be unorthodox, but it’s real, and over time, you come to see him as family. He’s the loud, unpredictable presence you didn’t know you needed, his humor and loyalty bringing you a sense of belonging. With Wade, you’ve found a father figure who’ll stand by you, his love chaotic and unconditional in every way that matters.

[knightdykes]

:( I think the landlord turned the radiators off again

[jaylalolz]

❛ 𝐌𝐘 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒𝐒 ❜ . . . nicholas chavez

BESTFRIEND!reader x BESTFRIEND!nicholas 𝜗𝜚

SUMMARY, nicholas can’t keep his hands off his best-friend.

WARNINGS, smuttyyyy

A/N, have fun reading, angels. 💋

He sits up between her spread legs and runs his two fingers up her slit. She jumped when he passed by the collection of nerves at the top.

"You’re so wet for someone you call your best-friend" He whispered, peering up at my eyes.

He proceeded to very gently move his two fingers up and down, and she responded with a deep gasp. Every light touch made her thighs tremble, and it was driving her insane. He was practically torturing himself by running his fingers over her.

She complained and thrust her hips upward, but he quickly pushed them back down to the mattress and used his firm grip to pin them there. "I know my princess we're getting there." He mocked her desire for him to give her a more intense touch. "I need you to be good and stay still for me."

She tried to remain motionless as he requested, but her chest rose and fell with each deep breath. He drags her two fingers down again and then abruptly slides them all the way inside her. She lets out a gasp, taken aback by how quickly it happened. His two long fingers were shoved all the way within her, and she gripped around them.

She expected him to begin pumping them in and out, but instead he removed them entirely and brought his now-wet fingertips up to her clit. He began carefully circling the bundle of nerves right away. She opened her mouth, taking a strong breath in instead of out. His locks dangled over his forehead as his eyes shot up to her to see her reaction.

Her legs collided with his heated breath before her mind could register what was about to happen. She realized it would leave a mark as his hands abruptly curled around her thighs and pried them even farther apart, the points of his fingers jabbing into her flesh.

Her gut jerked and her entire body arched as his tongue went up her center. He pressed his mouth against her tightly and rolled his tongue straight to the collection of nerves before she could even begin to register the strange sensation of his sharp tongue traveling up her slit.

"Fu-" her breathing interrupted the delicate action before she could even finish her swearing as her back arched off the bed. Without holding back, he went straight into her clit with a wonderful rhythmic roll of his tongue. Her wrists shook in the cuffs over my head, and her eyelids pinched shut.

He placed her legs over his shoulders, reaching lower and squeezing a firm grasp around her outer thighs and hip bones. With a deep inhale through his nostrils, he caressed her with his tongue, sending a surge of ecstasy up her neck and into her veins. Her legs are spread across his long back as she chokes on her groan and tosses her head back into the cushion.

She felt a jolt in her stomach as he moans at her center. She quickly exhaled and stretched, but his firm hold held her body motionless. His grasp would only get firmer and his clutch would bury her deeper into the bedding every time she moved her hips automatically.

"Nick fuck-" she cried out while her legs shook.

"Does that feel good, pretty girl ?" He rasps into the blazing air, massaging her clit and fingering her at the same time. she nods

Her entire body was tense; she couldn't continue in this state for very long. She yelled his muffled name, "Cum for your best-friend, give it to me," and then it abruptly stopped her in her tracks. The whole trembling, hunching over, breathing stopped.

Her head tossed back, suddenly realizing that the brief three-second stop was the climactic release between her legs. It was amazing how overwhelming it was. At the height of her climax, her body remained flexed, but everything else in her stopped.

“Fuck we have to do this more often, baby”

[theredmonsterlover]

The Monster under the Bed

MDNI, this is smut, 18+ only. Reader is AFAB, nongendered. CW: monsterfucking, cnc/dubcon, intox off of monster power, ovipositor, breeding via egg laying.

~*~*~

Your mother had always told you tales of the Monster under the bed. Warned you to never let your leg dangle put from under the blankets, nor to dare and let a limb hang off the bed. Swore that the monster would draw you into its realm and keep you there forever.

Yet, in the late summer heat that hadn't let up in days, you weren't thinking about the monster under the bed as you layed flat on your stomach. You hadn't thought about that since you were a child. Instead, all you could think of was the intense need for relief from the oppressive humidity as you stuck your foot out from under the blankets.

Maybe if you had remembered your mother's tales, you would have been better prepared for the fact that a hand wrapped around your ankle a moment later. You lived alone, but strange things happened in the city. You had a moment of blinding panic before suddenly your whole body relaxed.

A cool, tingling sensation ran across your skin as claws circled your ankle. It was such a sweet relief that your brain stopped trying to process what was happening as you felt your body be slowly dragged down the bed until your legs hung off the edge completely. Your hips snuggly pressed into the mattress, a distant thought reminding you about the lack of clothing you had decided on for bed.

"What have we here?" Oh, that was a voice that sounded so nice. You had a feeling that if you were in a right state of mind that you would have found it akin to sandpaper, but presently it sounded like the crackle of a warm fire. Fire that seemed to melt your insides yet cool your skin. It left you in a state of bliss as you felt its long, thin fingers begin to roam over your skin.

It took its time as you sank into the touch. It felt so wonderful, leaving a pleasant hum in your blood. Each touch seemed to be patient, gentle, yet it was firm and tested for boundaries. "My, it has been some time since I had a human. Might I try you?"

Your eyes fluttered and you let out a soft groan into the mattress. It massaged into muscles you didn't know had an ache, and left you pliant under each passing touch. It may as well have turned you into a puddle for all the fight you had in you. "Yes," You managed to find the words as sank further into the bed.

There was a rumble of laughter that would have made you quake in fear if you had heard it before you felt its touch, but now? You just found yourself excited at the prospect of what it meant when it said that it wanted to try you.

"Such an eager toy," it commented, and the words made you want to preen. Though, your brain couldn't quite figure out why. Not that it cared to as two hands slowly pulled your legs apart, and another set of hands spread your cheeks.

From the way your face was resting on the mattress, you couldn't see behind you. No matter how badly you wanted to look, you couldn't find yourself able to. Not a single ounce of will power existed in your relaxed body. You had fully given in to this monster, and there wasn't much that you could do, even if you had wanted to.

Not when it slowly used it's long fingers to slip between your lips, before it found that point that had you letting out a muffled groan. It let out a noise of awe as it began to toy with you more. It seemed to be engulfed in your body as it drew its fingers over your clit time and time again. It seemed to like your pleasure, enjoyed the way that your body was putty in its hands.

The pleasure was mounting, and for a moment, you thought you'd climax then and there on its fingers. Except, it let out a little noise that seemed to be a click of the tongue. "Such a good toy, let's not have this end so soon."

Suddenly, you were aware that the monster had more of a form than just arms and hands. A third set of hands found your body. One settled between your shoulder blades and pinned you to the bed, while the other fisted in your hair and tugged your head to the side. It would have been painful, if you weren't so lost in the lust and found the pain to just add to the pleasure.

That, and you could feel the large chest of the beast as it hovered over your body. You felt so small and frail in comparison. Especially as its tongue ran along the edge of your exposed neck. "You want me to keep playing with you, don't you?"

A whimper left your throat and you nodded like your life depended on it. How could you want it to stop when you had never felt this good in your whole life. "Good. Then be a good toy for me," it hissed before it's teeth found your throat and dug in. Somehow, the pleasure mounted, but it did not peak. It kept building, growing, but it never hit that crescendo as the monster buried its teeth into your neck.

You burned in a way that had nothing to do with the heat. You rocked your hips back, and wordlessly pleaded for more. It shushed you and continued to explore your body. Your legs now held in place by its own, which left its other hands free to explore. To find more places to draw pleasure from your body. To knead and press and pull at your chest as you let out pathetic noises of desire.

It had you exactly where it wanted you. Pinned under its weight and a writhing mess of desire. It fed off that deep-seated need for more. Drank in your lust, and slowly let go of its hold on your throat. Yet, even as it continued to play with you, you couldn't finish.

"Hush. We're almost there. I want you nice and ready. Trust me, you want to be a good little toy, right?" There was nothing you wanted more than to be a good little toy. You wanted to please it so badly that you thought you might go insane. Or perhaps you already had since you were letting the monster from under your bed fuck you.

It slowly dipped a finger inside of you and marveled at the way your entire body trembled. The way you whined and moaned as it tested what made your pleasure spike most. A breath of laughter ran along your neck as it added a second finger, then quickly a third to keep your mind pleasantly clouded.

"There we go. Such a good pet for me. I think you'll quite enjoy this." Seeing as you had already enjoyed everything else, you nodded blindly into the bed. You were so close, so very close, and just wanted to find that point of release. You'd do anything to be allowed.

"Anything?"

Oh, you must have spoke aloud without even realizing. "Anything," You cried out.

"Perfect," without any further notice, it withdrew its fingers from within and left you feeling empty and gaping.

Before you could so much as register that you were empty, you felt the monster shift. Its chest pressed into your back and grabbed hold of your hips. It lifted them slightly so that you toes were all that could touch the floor. Then, you felt it.

It was certainly larger than the three fingers that had been inside you, possibly larger than anything you had ever taken. You gasped as it pressed closer, and somehow began to slip inside of you.

Your walls were pushed to a point you hadn't known was possible as you were forced to accommodate the monster as it buried itself inside of you. It didn't tear into you, just kept a slow, relentless pace until it seemed to be fully sheathed. Or at least, as fully sheathed as it could be considering the head was brushing against your cervix.

Except, instead of pulling out and thrusting back in, it kept pushing forward. There was a pulse of pain that mingled with the pleasure, and then, oh fuck. You were suddenly reminded that this was a monster that was fucking you as its head seemed to split into four points. Each one embedded itself into your cervix and began to pull back.

You were breathless and tears pooled in your eyes as you felt your cervix give way under the monster's strength. And with a sudden popping sensation, the monster sunk even further into you. It was fucking your womb, and that thought was already enough to have your mind spinning.

Of course, that wasn't enough for the monster. "Perfect. Such a perfect little toy for me. I had no idea I'd be so lucky as to find an incubator tonight." Your brain couldn't comprehend what that meant. Not as it began to paw at your body again. It stroked your clit, toyed with your chest, and kept thrusting in a way that lit your nerves on fire with desire.

You were so blissed out, you almost didn't feel it at first. The way that your body suddenly had to accommodate something wider. Something of a round shape that began to slide past your entrance and further inside. Something that set off a soft warning bell in the back of your mind.

"Wha-" you broke off in a whine as it pushed past your cervix and was dumped inside your womb. Pleasure exploded through your body and you shook with it as a second, then a third egg passed into you. Not that your mind could comprehend that those were eggs, not when your body was having such a high from your orgasm.

By the time the monster had pulled out, you were limp and trembling on the bed. Slick with sweat, but no longer feeling the humidity. Fingers ran through your hair and perhaps you shouldn't have leaned into the affectionate feeling touch.

"Such a pretty little toy. You'll do very nicely," your monster whispered before it yanked you off the bed and dragged you under. Into its realm just like your mother had warned.

[rememberwren]

Ghoap x Reader. Let's talk aftercare.

I said, how would aftercare work if the scene ends before it begins?

CW: Simon's history of non-con, safewording, not much aftercare for aftercare being my primary focus tbh, established ghoap, fem!reader.

-

Ghost safewords and disappears into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. 

Johnny hasn’t even kneeled up onto the bed yet. You’re still wearing your robe. The scene which the three of you had planned with near religious fanaticism for the last two weeks had barely even begun, and now it has already ended. 

You and Johnny stare at each other with twin expressions of confusion. Johnny, quick and long used to Ghost’s unpredictability, rushes the door. He knocks and then braces his hands against the doorframe, head down. 

“Simon? Can I come in?” he calls through the oak. 

“It’s unlocked,” Ghost says back, scathing. The water faucet has been turned on, muffling his voice a little but not his tone. He’s furious. You can take a guess as to at whom. 

It isn’t his fault, though, you think. You sit on the edge of the bed, toying anxiously with the hem of your robe, any and all arousal having sublimated into thin air with Ghost’s safeword. It’s hard to believe that only a few minutes ago, the three of you had been setting up with excitement, eager to play—or had you? Had there been signs that Simon wasn’t in the right headspace? Should you have been looking more closely? You draw your knees up toward your chest, wrapping your arms around them, feeling hollow. 

“Prefer if you opened the door instead of me,” Johnny says calmly, a pillar of strength, stone strong amongst the uncertain shifting sands. 

The door jerks open. Johnny disappears inside and gives you a sheepish glance before he shuts the door behind him. It’s fine. You can wait out here. The hollow feeling inside your chest seems to grow and swell, throbbing in time with your heart like an angry bruise. You wished you were inside the bathroom too, a part of their duo, more than just a temporary fixture in their bedroom. Should you get dressed? God, should you leave? No—you couldn’t do that, not before making sure that Simon was okay. 

After nearly ten minutes of heated whispers back and forth, the door opens and the two trudge out of the bathroom. Simon can’t meet your eye. 

“Well,” says Johnny, rubbing the back of his own neck. “This has been enlightening. Time for aftercare?” 

“Doesn’t aftercare usually come after something?” Simon asks waspishly. “Didn’t even manage to fucking do anything.” 

“Prepared to do something, didn’t we?” says Johnny, like it is a simple matter. “Can we get you anything? W—”

“You can get the hell out.” 

You slip off the bed. You don’t need to be told twice. You find where your clothes are piled carefully on top of the dresser and slip your underwear on beneath the robe, feeling too raw to just let the slinky, silky fabric fall to your feet and bare you to the room. 

“It’s important, Simon,” Johnny says, calm and resolute. “The way you’re acting tells me you need it.” 

“I need you to stop yapping for once in your goddamn life,” says Ghost, dressing himself with jerky movements on the other side of the room. 

“Then do it for her, aye?” Who? you wonder, looking over your shoulder. There is only you. You glance over your shoulder to see that Simon has stopped dressing himself, top half still bare, eyeing down Johnny like a dog who hasn’t decided yet if he intends to fight or find the threat beneath him. Johnny tips his head toward you. “She needs it too. Can’t you tell?” 

Simon’s brow furrows, mouth dipping into an even deeper scowl. His eyes flicker towards you, but you are determined to show him that whatever Johnny is saying is wrong. He doesn’t need to let you do anything; you’re fine. You hadn’t even been the one to safeword! But whatever he sees on your face has his eyes going a little soft, his mouth a little less harsh. 

“Water, I guess,” he mutters. “‘M thirsty.” 

“I’ll get it,” says Johnny. When he passes you, he lets his hand rest on your shoulder, dragging softly from one shoulder blade to the other. He asks: “Will you stay with him?”

You nod. Johnny isn’t giving you much of a choice. Not for the first time, you resent his meddling, the near-omniscient way he seems to know what everyone needs even when you couldn’t say for yourself  what that is. 

Simon has seated himself on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands. With his back turned, you feel fine to drop the robe and tug a shirt on. Carefully toeing your way around the bed, you stand beside him, frowning, unsure what you’re doing here. Why you’re here. Johnny should be here. You should be fetching water like Lassie.

Simon glances up at you, a flash of irritation. He heaves a sigh. “Not angry at you.” 

“I know,” you say. You’re pretty sure that’s true. 

“I’m doing every fuckin’ thing right. Why’s it still going wrong?” he wonders, letting his hands down to hang loosely between his legs. 

You step there, until he has to put his hands on your hips, until he can bury his face in your chest. You stroke reach up tentatively, stroking at his hair the soft, easy way that he likes. You’re no good with words—are just as likely to stutter over the wrong words as you are the right ones. 

“I don’t know,” you answer honestly. “I just know I’m not finished trying. Not if you aren’t.” 

He huffs a breath against you, turning to place his cheek and ear against your sternum. Your heart must be beating out of your chest, but he doesn’t mention it. Each of his slow, even breaths seems to melt away the icy hollow feeling inside your ribs.

“Thanks for stopping us,” you say, in case Johnny hasn't already. 

He looks up at you, dark, endless sort of eyes. He says: “Thanks for letting me.” 

You scratch his scalp softly, unable to respond. Johnny reappears, waters in hand.

[reixtsu]

Characters seeking you out during random times

pt 1?

Character: Wanderer

Wanderer

-> Archons, why would you even think that he would seek YOU out, out of all people?! There is no reason why he would... right?

-> Well despite him being so against the feeling, he couldn't help himself but feel the desire to be near you. *sigh* How irritating.

-> Everyday he would try to avoid you, finding refuge in the forest and talking to the aranara. His logic was that if he was away from you long enough, he would stop desiring to be near you.

-> Damn how that made his feelings worse. As The days went by, all he could think about was you. Your hands, your way of caring for him, your little jokes and unfavorable attitude. How dare his nonexistent heart long for you, a mere mortal

-> No matter, he thought. He was a puppet. He knew he was able to handle avoiding you.

-> What he forgot, however, was how much you knew about him.

-> So to his dismay, you found him one day while climbing a tree.

After a while of following Wanderer through the woods, you finally were able to corner him and demand an explanation on why he disappeared suddenly. Your furrowed eyebrows, your tone, it was all annoying to him. All of the unnecessary attachment you hold for him was insufferable, something he could barely tolerate. So, he simply crossed his arms and glared at you with his usual cold stare.

"It's not your responsibility to look after me. I am perfectly able to take care of myself," Wanderer said bluntly, wasting no time to turn around and walk away. You huffed, but stood there for a moment, wondering if you did something wrong.

In Wanderer's eyes, yes, you did do something wrong. You made him too attached to you to the point where he would make meals for you once and a while, accompany you in your journeys, and even 'comfort' you in your times of need. You were too dangerous. He had to stay away from you.

However, you being you, you wouldn't let him get away that easily.

Everyday you made an effort to find Wanderer, make him his favorite foods, leave him little notes and gifts, anything that might attract his attention and get him to talk to you. After a good few weeks, your efforts on seeing him finally paid off and he knocked on your door in the middle of the night.

It was a rainy night, too cold for anyone to go outside for enjoyment. Three light taps were heard on your door as you slowly opened your eyes, your eyelids begging to shut. With a small groan, you left your bed and made your way to the door, opening it to reveal the one and only, Wanderer.

He just stood there, water streaming down his hat and his shoes drenched with water. He looked like a wet kitty who came to a house for some food. Wanderer stood there in silence for a moment before stepping inside and instantly drying himself off using the power of anemo. Convenient.

You smiled at him, confused as to why he was acting so strangely.

Wanderer knew he couldn't last any longer, with his heartbeat deafening his ears and his cheeks excluding a deadly heat, he coughed into his hands and averted his eyes rather quickly.

"I... Want...You," Shit, that came out wrong. Wanderer cursed to himself, his cheeks only heating out more out of pure embarrassment as he waited for your reply.

Silence.

A paused moment of awkward silence that seemed to make the room stuffy.

He begged the archons for you to say something instead of looking at him as if he was crazy. Okay, maybe he was, but still! He quickly glanced at you, then pulled his hat down, avoiding eye contact.

That is when you laughed. It was a nice light hearted laugh. A tune that always made Wanderer's nonexistent heart soften with a certain gentless. The way you smiled and clutched your stomach did annoy him a little though.

"What do you mean 'you want me', hm, Wanderer?" You asked teasingly, smirking as you reached your hand out to gently lift his hat up to see his eyes.

He instantly frowned, his blushing intensifying as he started to lose his 'breath'. "I didn't mean that! I meant to say that I apologize for avoiding you and that I want.. your... hugs." He said the last part in a mumble grumble.

You couldn't help but chuckle at his cuteness as you started to hug him, much to Wanderer's dismay. "Aw! You can be so cute sometimes!"

Wanderer tensed up at the close proximity of you both. He sighed, annoyed with himself that he couldn't be away from you for too long. With a single hand, he placed his hand on the small of your back and gently patted it.

It was a soft pat, and you gladly accepted it. Wanderer wasn't one for giving affection, so when he does show it you know that something is up. Giving him a small peck on his cheek, you grabbed his hands and let him to your bed.

He knew that you were his cherished weakness, and he vowed to never leave your side for too long. He loved you, after all.

[treedaddymcpuffpuff]

somnophilia with John wick from the prompts? 👉🏽👈🏽

jw & fem reader

gif by the wonderful @scarlettspectra. TRIGGER WARNING(s) Somnophilia (from Latin somnus "sleep" and Greek φιλία, -philia "friendship") is a paraphilia in which an individual becomes sexually aroused by someone who is unconscious. & a bit of exhibitionism

You had waited for him all day. Flitting around the house, cleaning and cooking and making sure everything was in line for his arrival. Wearing his favorite dress, playing his favorite music on the stereo, chilling a fresh bottle of his favorite bourbon.

A month and a half. That’s how long it had been since you last saw the person  whose presence gave meaning to your life. So, naturally, you were brimming with excitement, heart pattering wild and strong in your chest, body giddy and jittery—unable to regulate haywire nerves. John was coming home. 

He wasn’t often gone for this long. It was an important job. Something involving a very, very rich man paying him to complete a very, very difficult task. Of course, you knew what his tasks usually included, but didn’t like to think about it too much—couldn’t think about it too much…

It was just hard to imagine…your John killing someone. The same John that took bugs outside instead of squashing them, who cleaned up his bar table and tipped more than generously, who always held the door open and returned shopping carts. Who was sweet and kind and treated you like you were made of paper-thin glass unless you specifically requested otherwise. 

The text comes in mid-evening, just as you’re putting his untouched dinner away and cleaning up the kitchen. Hey, dollbaby, my flight got delayed until tomorrow at six AM. I’m sorry. Don’t stay up worrying about me.

It’s disappointing, but you have to admit you’re used to this. It just comes with what he does, and you’ll gladly endure it with a smile for him. However, that doesn’t mean you can grant his request and stop yourself from worrying. With a little sigh, you type back: Okay, John. Love you.

I Love you, too.

You try and pass the time; go for a late swim, read a book, snuggle up on the big leather couch to scroll TV channels for movies. Except none of that works to distract you from John’s missing shadow, and you just end up with your head buried in a throw pillow, inhaling his residual scent and pretending the cushion is his chest.

You decide to invite some friends over for a good distraction, and they bring card games and beer and wine. You have your own stash of alcohol, so between you and three of you closest, you end up drinking a little too much and passing out halfway through game night. 

John finds you in the icy blue light of breaking dawn, breathing even and slow and slung haphazardly on top of your mattress. The residual burn of spirits heat your skin ruddy, and you have long since kicked the comforter off to leave yourself bare and unsuspecting of the hungry wolf who’s cock fattens at the sight of you—his big tshirt snuggling against your curves, the hint of a panty seam visible along the soft skin of your hip

He discards his clothes into a pile on the floor, too starved for flesh to care about being his usual tidy self, and climbs on the bed to run the tip of his tongue along that delicious cut crease of supple flesh.

You stir and whine, hand coming up momentarily to bat the tickly feeling away, only to weakly fall back down onto the bed, its task lost in the dark deep of your slumber. 

With a wicked grin, he moves his mouth down your thigh, licks into the seam behind your knee, then treks a wet path of kisses over your calves. You squirm and kick, trapped by heavy sleep, defenseless under his tongue.

He knows that, by now, you’d be begging him sweetly to make you cum, arching up into his teasing mouth for more, hanging on to his beautiful throw of silky hair as he laps at your panties. Always so impatient, his sweet girl. 

God, he missed you. Missed your smell and taste, the way you buck your hips, that little tender space between thigh and cunt that makes you squeal when he flicks it with his tongue. 

He nudges your panties to the side to reveal an already glistening wet and swollen pussy, your clit ripe and fresh, ready for his mouth to pluck and taste. Even in your sleep, you’re more than ready to sheath his cock.

He suckles at your folds gently while you stir awake with a sleepy little moan. “J-joh-jjj,” you slurr, gripping at the plump pillows while your cunt tenses and thighs attempt closing. 

So sensitive in that foggy place between sleep and wake, with his familiar mouth on you, impatient and insistent.

He holds your thighs open and eats—devours your cunt sloppily from the back, groaning about how good you taste and how much he missed it. “It’s okay, baby, no no no, come’ere, I gotcha. That’s my girl.” Two fingers curled inside, coaxing a fast approaching orgasm from your perfect little pussy. 

“Gonna, gonna-ah c-cum,” you tell him, clenching on his fingers, once shy clit now grinding down onto his tongue. You’ve just missed him so much, and it’s been so long, and you haven’t even touched yourself at his specific request, so it’s no surprise that it only takes seconds of cunnulingus just the way he’s learned you love it to have you soaking the sheets below your hips. 

“Good job,” he coos, bringing you down with little kisses to your puffy lips and chafed thighs, sucking his fingers clean and closing his eyes against the savory flavor of your slick. “You okay, babydoll?” 

“Uh huh,” you tell him, still twitching from the heavy orgasm, eyes threatening to close again, too tired to wipe the little bit of spittle off your chin. 

You feel him shift behind you, and then his thick tip press against your still spasming entrance, ready to overwhelm and overstimulate and leave you a babbling mess. His cock is built for your pleasure and demise, and as he enters, invading and pillaging the sensitive walls of your cunt, your eyes fly open and you sob into the pillow.

Something like, “o-oh fuck-“

“Shhh, baby.” His warm touch finds the base of your skull, that soft tug on your unkempt tangles guiding you back into his slow, deliberate thrusts. “Your friends are in the living room, gotta be quiet for me.” 

“Y-yeah Jo-ohn.” You try and tell him just how much you missed him, but the words jumble and stick, translating to half-muffled moans. Tears bead at your waterline in submission to that first stretch of his unfairly girthed cock. 

He understands your incoherent babbles perfectly. “Fuck,” he growls, tip kissing your cervix, “I missed you, too. Missed this tight little cunt.”

You have to bite down on your knuckles to keep the animalistic sounds of pleasure at bay, as he fucks you. So often, this beautiful man makes love to you, slow and soft. This is not one of those times. 

If you could think, it would be about how loud the sound of his hard pelvis clapping against your soft ass is, as he chases that otherwise unobtainable high that only your cunt can bring—that he thought about every single minute he was gone…the reason he’s alive.

You’re sobbing from it all—the way he splits you open so perfectly, the tiny dark whispers of reassurance, the fact that he’s alive and well and all over and around you; big hand pressing your lower back down for better and deeper access inside your cunt.

The way he just knows, even in his own rough desperation, how to unravel you—make you see the cosmos and beyond, into the soupy blackness of unexplored universe. 

“You coming again, baby?” He doesn’t have to ask, because he knows you are, more than familiar with the way you unfold and shatter. 

“Y-yeah-huh.”

He puts you on your back with practiced gentleness, and cups your sweaty cheeks in his hands before sucking your bite-swollen lower lip into his mouth, managing to stay buried inside you through the easy transition, swallowing your whimpers while his cock works out the final flutters of your orgasm. 

“Oh, John,” you say, when he stops licking at your throat to allow the both of you some much-needed, panting breath. “F-fuck, John.”

“I know, baby, I know,” he says, brushing the sweaty hair off your temples and pecking tiny wet kisses over your face. “I gotcha, it’s okay. Johnny’s here. Open your pretty eyes, let me see you.” 

In a deep, stuttering thrust, when you clamp like a vice around him, he loses himself inside of you, and you are with him. Utterly overtaken, love burning through your blood, body singing in rapturous heavenly choir. This is as close to the pearly gates you will ever get, you think, as you float down from the high. 

There is a cut on his temple that you failed to notice, and you touch just below. “You got hurt.” 

“I’m better, now.��� 

With him nestled beside you, arms wrapping around and sheltering your body with his own, legs supporting your bottom and cock still softening inside your cunt, you feel sleep creep back up like an old friend.

It isn’t long before he’s succumbed to it, himself, happily snoozing nestled in your hair. You don’t know what he’s been through in that long stretch of absence, but it doesn’t matter now. 

He’s here with you, and that’s enough.

[r0-boat]

OmG thanks so much for all the delicious stuff you wrote ❤️❤️❤️ Wonder if you can write sth about somnophilia, like one night the WHB kings are horny and their s.o is deep in sleep 👀

Again thank you for the smut, I re-read it multiple times already 😋

Sure! Thank you so much for liking my writing! I really like writing for these demons.

Whb Kings Somnophila

Cw: dubcon (s/o is asleep and does not say yes or no to advances.)

the kings are horny, but s/o is sleeping deeply.

Nsfw

Satan

His cock is throbbing in his pants; He wants you so bad but he can't bring himself to wake you up. You look so peaceful, so cute. He's utterly entrenched by your deep slumber your chest going up and down peacefully. So peaceful. His hand drifts toward his cock pulsating against the fabric of his jeans. He doesn't take them off rather slip his hand past the fabric and palm his legs. He shutters at how wrong this feels, but he doesn't care.

He gets in bed with you. His pants are long gone. He brings you against his chest. You're cute flesh thighs pressing against his length. It's not your hole, but it will do for now. Satan knows he if were to wake you, his subordinates would skin him alive, and anyone would kill him to be in his position. Your thighs feel amazing pressed against his cock heal. Remember that the next time when annoying ass Levi or Mammon start bragging about you.

Mammon

He wants to you to lay on top of him; ever since the first meeting were, you slept so peacefully on his chest; he is so desperate for that to happen again. You were so cute, small, and helpless, And he liked it when you used him as a bed. Mammon takes it upon himself to put himself in between the mattress and your body. Where he belongs, underneath you. You stured a little bit in his arms, but once you rested on his chest, he snuggled right into him. Perhaps he liked this a little too much; He smiled from his eyes cock starting to bulge in his pants. Shameless mammon sliding off his pants as he strokes his throbbing length, His other fingers playing with you till you're wet enough for him to slide inside. With your warmth around him and you sleeping peacefully, he was at peace. His dick throbbing inside you has he puts his hand in your hair petting you gently.

Leviathan

After your first unpeaceful day in Hades after being kidnapped You must have felt exhausted. You absolutely refused to sleep in Levi. Ungrateful human! He offered the most secure and comfy place in the castle and you refuse to sleep on the couch?!

Curled up on the couch, You tried to retain warmth. Levi sighs. He didn't want to leave you here; he picked you up into his arms, moving you to a guest room instead. He was glad he saw you before anyone else could. His heart fluttered, knowing he was the only one to see you so sleepy and cute. You are so bratty and mean before, And now look at you. His eyes soften does he brushes your hair out of your face but this fingers tucking it behind your ear. He felt heat going to his cock. Fuck... You look so irresistible. Jealousy begins to bubble, other demons had to see you like this. Jealousy mixes with lust has Levi slips his cock out of his pants He can't help it He wants you so bad and he keeps thinking about the way your hands went around his neck. What have you done to him??

Beelzebub

He spreads your sleepy legs apart. He had been so hungry all day thinking about you for a quick meal but now that I found you sleeping so cute and peacefully. He couldn't help but dive his face in between your legs. Doing consciously grind your hips into his face, He eagerly laps at you deeper.. when you finally begin to wake up you clench around his tongue. Your thighs pressed against your head as your eyes fluttered open to meet wild pools of gold. Beel moans against you. As much as he likes your thighs squeezing his head, he pushes you open so he can have his fingers work you. He wants more when he notices you sleepily staring at him. He smirks. "Good morning, sleeping beauty."

Lucifer

He is pleased to know that you are safe enough with him to fall asleep in his own bed. Though he is a little guilty that You had to wait until you fell asleep in his sheets. He can't help but feel a sense of pride having Solomon's progeny, curious little child of man, in bed, knowing they are so sought after. Another part of him is curious. He had never seen a human sleep so closely. He hopes you don't mind as he lays beside you. As soon as he got beneath the sheets with you, he was getting to move, pressing your ass right up against his crotch instinctively; he wrapped his arms around you, and your back pressed against his chest. Apparently, this is a human sleeping ritual called 'spooning.' The act is innocent but feels inherently sexual since you can feel the curve of your ass pressed against his bulging cock. His breath shakes with his head buried into your hair, inhaling your scent. You can't help but fuck his hips, but not enough to wake you. He wants this moment to last for a little longer.

[flokali]

I just want to touch zhonglis horns or tail. Like they are so pretty

a/n: me too anon, me too ><

I love the image of a relaxed Zhongli who, after much coaxing from your part, allows a small pair of horns to adorn the top of his head. Well, it’s less that it’s small and more so that he’s big enough that almost anything that isn’t comically large looks small near him.

They look similar to Azhdaha’s horns in colour, earthy tones that make them look like Geo formations sitting atop their heads. However, Zhongli’s look just a tad bit neater, as if a gifted craftsman had taken the time to carve and polish them — which, may be possible considering how particular the former archon has become in regards to his appearance ever since your arrival.

His horns blend in their base with his hair, a dark brown colour that fades into a colour that looks akin to polished Cor Lapis. They sit comfortably atop his hair, curling upwards until the very tip where they finally look down. Long, thick vein-like carvings decorate them, their pattern looking much like the ones found in his pillars.

Whenever he uses his Geo element, which he rarely does whenever he allows himself to show his more draconian features, said carvings are filled up with elemental energy that glows a golden colour, instances in which they look much like rivers of gold flowing through him.

They’d probably be cold, at least whenever he’s not using any elemental energy, in which case they seemingly hum a soft warmth. But it never burns hot or freezingly cold, on the instances where you glide the pad of your finger through the, surprisingly, smooth surface it feels pleasant. Like an ointment that leaves your skin tingling, they seemingly buzz with energy native to Teyvat.

I also like to think that, when allowing more… draconic features of his to shine, Zhongli’s arms look similar to his Rex Lapis days. Back then, his arms were deep in colour with golden markings glowing - much like his horns, I’d think. Unlike before, the colour doesn’t seep into his neck, instead neatly ending near his shoulders and fading back into his human form’s flesh. But it’s just as striking, they almost look like gloves, but when you touch them they still feel like skin — the golden etchings in them, however, would probably feel more calloused, like scar tissue. In these instances, his arms run cold, much like stone. It’s only near the golden tissue that a semblance of warmth is found. During particularly hot summer days, they work wonders in keeping the heat away.

A tail… for some reason, I feel like he’d be extremely hesitant in showing it off. Only during private hours with you, where he’ll be absolutely certain no one other than yourself will see, will he show you. When he does, you notice how slim it is — only growing in size by the end, where it resembles a cloud. It’s essentially the same tail he possesses as Morax, where the end is filled with explosive colours that make it look like pure Geo energy materialising into the air.

Like any dragon, his tail is made out of scales - however his are surprisingly smooth, they blend into each other creating the illusion of there being no scales at all. They’re still sturdy, however, you’re pretty sure no weapon in existence could cut through them. His tail’s end… I think it’d be fur, long hairs combed into their position mimicking the clouds above Liyue Harbor during sunsets, unlike the rest of his body, I think it’d be surprisingly soft and, forgive my blasphemy, fluffy.

In these instances where he allows himself to be more vulnerable, showing bits and pieces of his most prominent and powerful forms, he grows to love your affection.

He loves it just as much when you comb his long, silken hair as when you detangle his tail. The feeling of your nails tracing the hundreds of scales that protect his tail make a shiver run down his spine, one that pleasures him as much as takes him by surprise every time.

Zhongli is rather secretive about his previous roles in life, which means that he has to trust you quite a lot to willingly expose traits of his that once belonged to the lives he once lived, which is why he’s so keen on keeping these attributes of his known only to the two of you.

If he so much as senses anybody coming near the room, his horns and tail quickly disappear - much to your disappointment. If anybody, much less someone like Venti, where to catch even so much as a glimpse of his more draconian features, you might need to physically restrain him lest he send them home with multiple injuries. It comes to a point where he mostly only cares about keeping a secret only between you and himself, rather than keeping his identity secret.

It’s why he treasures the soft moments where you lay in bed together, his head resting against your chest as you softly rub his horns with gentle motions. His ears are sharp, the beating of your heart is loud and clear to Zhongli, but it’s not bothersome at all — instead, it’s soothing to him, like the sound of soft rain against a window would be to some or waves softly crashing down into the sand. You’re too sleepy to notice, the warmth radiating from the man on top of you was simply too comfortable for you to resist the temptation of slumber, the soft purring that rumbled from his chest.

That was yet another feature of his you’d soon familiarise yourself with though, he still wanted to keep a few cards up his sleeve in case he felt you were drifting too far away from his embrace.

[dearggntlereader]

Could you write chubby!yn x mattheo riddle, and she's really insecure about her body and always tries to hide it? Thank you so muchhhh❤❤❤

Picture does not represent the reader's looks!!!

Warnings: mention of sex, cursing, angst

Feelings . :☆｡ﾟ. ───

It’s late and you should really be at your apartment or else you might give Mattheo the wrong idea. You don’t want him to think you two will have sex tonight, don’t want to lead him on. 

Especially with his hand loosely around your waist, drawing circles again and again.

His Hand is big and rough where it slides up and down your side. When you were playing with his Hand earlier you were wondering what it would feel like on you and you can confirm that it’s amazing.

He’s amazing.

You long stopped watching whatever Sitcom you ended up putting on and let your mind wander to the best ways to get away without making him think you hate him. You truly don’t. How could you, he’s smart, funny and insanely gorgeous.

The problem is that your oversized Sweater isn’t hiding anything if you’re pulled against him. He must be aware that you aren’t the perfect skinny girl, he has seen you in somewhat tight clothing and even if he didn’t there is only so much you can hide with clothing.

Still, no reason to remind him of that.

His warm Lips kiss the top of your head and suddenly there’s a whole other problem. You don’t want to leave. You want him to kiss and hug you forever, but guys rarely do. It’s already a wonder that he’s taken so much time for you, instead of using you to get off or some sort of practice for another girl.

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” he asks, a smile evident from the tone of his voice and when you look up your suspicion is confirmed.

Heat rises to your cheeks at the Nickname.

How the fuck did you manage to get the scary guy with piercing eyes and a sharp, arrogant smirk to call you ‘pretty girl’ and most importantly why? Why is he being so nice?

He squeezes your waist to prompt you to answer and you do, quietly. “Nothing, just thinking.”

The light laugh that leaves him as he stares down at your rosy face feels like a soft hug. “Yeah, but what about?”

“Oh, just-. I’m just zoning out, I guess.”

“You guess?” He’s teasing you now, you can tell by the glimpse in his eye.

You roll your eyes and avert your eyes from the slight smirk in front of you. Merlin, he’s so infuriating. 

“Shut it or I won’t finish the Episode with you,” you tease back with a laugh that sits heavy in your stomach.

It’s a test, really. To see how he responds to the idea of you leaving, maybe he wants you to.

Something switches in his eyes for not even a second before he squints at you in a way that makes you want to kiss him breathless. “You wouldn’t.”

“Wouldn’t I?”

Apparently he’s had enough of your teasing because he quickly and effectively shuts you up by leaning in to kiss you. It’s not urgent or fast, just sweet. He tastes like cigarettes and the mango soda you two shared earlier.

When he pulls you onto his Lap you yelp and grab onto his shoulder. Mattheo takes that as an opportunity to let his tongue into the mix. 

The way he holds your waist is so incredibly loving in a way you can’t explain that a hole forms in your stomach. You want to cry from all his loveliness. The way he asks you questions and holds you and kisses you and does it all with warm eyes and sharp features.

You break away from him in a haste and try to suppress the tears. It’s all too lovely and you won’t risk losing it.

So, instead of giving him a chance to be disappointed you press out a timid “I have to go” and stand up from his Lap.

You don’t look at him and basically run out of his Apartment, quickly grabbing your purse and mumbling “goodbye.” without sparing another look at him.

If you did, you would’ve seen pure confusion turning into disappointment and then Anger. Anger, at himself.

He has no idea that you leaving didn’t mean that he did anything wrong. Is he that bad of a kisser?

[blughxreader]

Speaking of the A/B/O verse and how sexually charged it is...

How would the batfam deal with their omega sister going into heat?

This is under the assumption that the reader is the only omega in the pack.

I prefer the version of heats/ruts that are non-fatal and last a few days each month (instead of menstruation). (Or a week long heat every three months, whichever.)

Prescriptions are readily available for heats/ruts, so people can go years without having them. I think several members of the Batfam are on medicine to make life simpler.

Like, what if Gotham crime spiked during Batman's rut cycle because he disappeared for a few days each month? Gothamites on twitter would have a field day with this information lol.

@ btmnboobies tweeted: "batman horney leave starts on monday. if u jerk off all day then youll be fapping the same time as him"

@ ticklealphauwu tweeted: "batman is getting plowed time to rob a bank"

So, realistically, omega!reader would be on heat suppressants.

BUT IF, for drama's sake, there was no way to avoid a heat, then I can see two options:

1. They rigorously screen and import the best heat companions, then never repeat one. It's common for long-time heat partners to become attached, so you'll never see the same alpha twice.

Of course you'll get this talk: "tell them anything and they die. I programmed artificial intelligence to listen for key words, so I will know." and the alphas will be monitored for a minimum of five years afterwards.

Each member of the batfam would rather cut off a limb than have a stranger fuck you in their own home, but it's better than you being dead (or ruining your relationship by fucking you themself).

2. Or, Batman would go to the JL.

If a JL member has a darling who happens to be an alpha, then I can see Batman considering setting you two up.

Or he'd ask a favor of Clark or Diana.

Can you fucking imagine him asking for a meeting with Wonder Woman in private and it goes

Batman: Your world has similar genetics and rituals as ours. WW: Yes, in some ways. Batman: And casual partners during times of need are commonplace. WW: Quite... Batman, expression darkening: ... My daughter... WW, finally smiling: Oh, I see. You trust me. Batman, looking physically pained: Yes. Her first heat is at home coming and we are looking for long-term solutions. For the time being, would you mind... *grinds teeth*... assisting? WW: I would be honored. :)

Then Wonder Woman plows you all weekend

Damian would be torn between "hm yes a fine arrangement becoming of my cherished sister" and "NONONO YOU CAN'T GET MARRIED YOU HAVE TO LIVE WITH US FOREVER"

because DUH you'd want to lock her down. A golden opportunity to escape the batfam shows up in all her short skirt and big muscled glory.

Lol it's a silly thought but probably the only way you'd live a semi-normal life. Until WW turns out to be a crazy yandere too? 👀

[dragonnarrative-writes]

Part 3 - Oakmoss

Autumn Embers Masterlist

CW: Omegaverse scent-heavy flirting, food related flirting, Brandon (derogatory)

It’s three weeks later that Sergeant Garrick catches you walking out of your building at the end of the day. You’re more distracted than usual - trying to decipher a text from Jack about his upcoming heat - so you’re almost on top of him before you realize. His smile is genuine when you jump back from nearly stepping on his boot.

“Sorry!”

“No harm done,” he assures you. His hand comes forward. “Sergent Kyle Garrick.”

“We’ve met,” you point out, allowing a short, comfortable handshake.

His grin goes a little bit sheepish when he takes his hand back. “Well, I had to introduce myself better than Soap, at least. That’s MacTavish.”

“Ah,” you say. “Well… good to meet you.”

“The team wanted to thank you, for the information,” he continues. “It was very helpful. That Lawrence guy would have had us runnin’ in circles. We also, uh,” he shuffles his feet a bit, and looks away. “We didn’t want to overstep. By offering a gift before clearing it with you.”

Oh, he thinks he’s clever. You arch an eyebrow, “You want me to give your pack permission to give me gifts, Sergent Garrick?”

“I told them you’d catch on too fast,” he laughs.

At least he has the decency not to deny it. Here you had been tying yourself into knots about being too emotional in a meeting, and now a pretty man is asking permission for his pack to court you. Part of you is relieved. The last thing you need is more alphas pissed off at you, prowling around the base looking for a pissing contest.

Another part of you is annoyed.

You carefully regulate your breathing. “Yeah, I’m pretty good at catching these kinds of things by now. But you don’t have to thank me for doing my job.” You sidestep him and start walking toward the car park.

Sergent Garrick falls into step beside you. “I’ve offended you.”

You sigh. Of course he’d be sensitive to the way your scent changes. You practically scent burned him in a closed room. You step to the side of the walkway and turn to face him. “I’m sure you and your pack are wonderful, sergeant, but I’ve had a long day.”

His smile is charming. “Anything we can do to help?”

“Not approaching me with a courting offer at my workplace would be a good start,” you say, blandly. You watch his face muscles twitch through confusion, shock, and a tinge of horror before continuing. “While I’m flattered that you would tell your pack about me, I prefer to keep things professional on base. And I’m sure your team would prefer that as well. Have a nice night.”

“Wait,” He reaches out, but has the good sense not to touch you. “Would it be better, then, to maybe approach you off-base?”

Why do alphas think I’ll find you elsewhere is ever a good thing to imply? “Like how Sergeant MacTavish approached me at the bar?” He doesn’t seem to have anything to say to that. You take a step back, his confusion tickling your nose. “I’m not really interested in being the subject of whatever competitive thing you have going. Have a good night, Sergeant.”

By the time you get back to your car, you’re not mad anymore. Just tired. You climb into the drivers seat and tip your head back with a sigh. Garrick and MacTavish aren’t the first alphas to want to try taming the Wildfire, and they won’t be the last. But it still stings. For once, it’d be nice if someone saw you and thought you were pretty and interesting instead of just a challenge to conquer.

You let yourself have a few more seconds of self-pity before you strap in and start the car. You’ll give Jack a call, make plans for his heat, and leave the sergeants to do their thing.

The next day, when you get to your office, there’s a travel cup of hot coffee from your favorite coffee shop on the edge of your desk, along with a gift card and a note. You don’t really think much of it - coffee from Sherry as a reward for a job well done isn’t unheard of - but the the gift card for 25 pounds is a bit excessive. The unfamiliar handwriting on the note catches your eye.

Please accept this apology for yesterday.

It’s signed by Captain John Price. That’s… interesting. Speaks well to the cohesion of the 141 that Sergeant Garrick would let him know that he made you uncomfortable. Hopefully this means that neither of the sergeants will be dogging your steps. On the other hand, an almost perfect coffee made it to your office somehow. You’re still dealing with a bit of overbearing alpha bullshit. But apology bullshit is better than the alternative, so you settle in for your day.

By lunch, you’ve pushed the note to the back of your mind. When Sherry walks in, you expect a conversation about taking on Jerry’s workload with his upcoming parental leave. You don’t expect her to place a paper bag from the very fancy sandwich shop across town onto your desk. You can smell warm bread and something else in there.

“Special delivery,” she says. Before you can pull the bag close to poke around, she holds out a folded piece of paper. “Ah, ah! I was told to give you this first.”

“What? Sherry, let me… eat.”

Please accept this offer as a formal request to discuss an intention of courtship. Captain Johnathan Price Lieutenant Simon Riley Sergeant Kyle Garrick Sergeant Johnathan MacTavish

Each of the signatures is different. You look from the note to Sherry’s curious face and back down. You’re glad you have so much practice locking down your scent, because your emotions are all over the place. You flash her a quick smile as you refold the note and stick it under the edge of your keyboard.

“Thanks, I’ll take care of it.”

She nods, with a nervous smile of her own. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah,” you lie, hoping she doesn’t pick up on the spike of your scent as your heart races. “The 141 had a successful mission after that awful meeting with Brandon and that CIA agent.”

“Oh! Well that’s good,” she says with a sharp nod. She knocks twice on the edge of your desk before she turns to leave. “You always do good work. Least those boys could do is buy you lunch.”

Once she’s gone, you wait a few seconds, then get up to quietly close your door. And then you eye the fancy paper bag on your desk like it’s a bomb. You circle back to pick up the note, read it, fold it, open it to read again.

You snap a picture and send it to the group chat. Then snap a picture of the gifts and note from this morning. You re-re-re-read the second note again.

When you phone rings, you pick up without looking. “What do I do?”

Jack wails into your ear. “Bitch, what do you MEAN what do you do?”

“Do I open it?”

“Open what?”

You snap a picture of the stamped bag sitting on the edge of your desk and send it to the chat. “They sent this with-”

Chrissy’s icy voice startles you. “If you don’t show me what’s in that bag right now I will scream.”

“What if opening it is accepting it?” When the phone chirps in your ear, you hiss, “I can’t do a video call, I’m in my office.”

“Quit stalling,” Chrissy snaps. “Open the bag.”

You pull it closer, then pause. “Should we wait for Mel?”

“NOW,” Jack bellows.

“I’m also at work,” Mel’s says, steady and unbothered. “So please stop yelling.”

The bag crinkles a bit when you pull it closer, silencing everyone. You’re not sure why you’re holding your breath, but it comes out in a little huff of disappointment when you look inside and the first thing you see is napkins.

“Okay,” you whisper, as you start pulling things out. The first food item you find is a roll. “We have… bread, still warm. A half of a sandwich - ooh! The goat cheese and pear one. A half salad,” you squint through the translucent lid. “It looks like it has berries. Oh, it looks like there’s a soup in here, too, nice. And the utensils. And…”

When you don’t say anything else, Jack prompts you. “And?”

“There’s a, uh,” you cover your eyes as your face flushes. “It’s a cake.”

The silence is deafening. You make yourself peek into the unassuming box, and the four-inch, round cake positively dripping with what smells like orange syrup, spices, and the faintest hint of alcohol. Your face gets even hotter when you connect the dots and realize the cardamom you’re smelling reminds you of Sergeant Garrick.

It’s Mel who breaks the silence, clearing their throat before asking, “Did they get you a custom cake from the Trinity Rose?”

You can’t make yourself say anything, so you take a picture of it for the group chat. Then a couple more at different angles, because the curl of orange and peel on top looks like something out of a movie. You hear when the photos load, each of your friends sucking in a quiet breath. Chrissy must mute her mic, because the background noise drops significantly.

“Someone please say something,” you whisper.

Jack says, “Holy shit.”

“What does it smell like?” Mel asks, cutting to the chase. “Is it good?”

“It smells so good,” you admit. “Like… ridiculously good.”

Chrissy comes back on the line, sounding a little breathless. “They apologized with coffee this morning?”

“Yeah-”

“So this wasn’t part of the apology,” she continues. “Guys, this is. This is a legit courtship thing.”

“The website says they offer courtship packages,” Mel confirms. “It’s pretty cute, a subscription service for lunch. But it doesn’t actually include a cake.”

“There’s gotta be at least a two week wait on something like this.” You say it as soon as you realize it. Embarrassment flashes hot and cold down your entire body and you have to cover your face. “Oh gods, this had to be planned in advance.”

Chrissy hisses, “The bakery at the Trinity Rose is award winning. Of course this was planned in advance.”

“Wait, are they all in a pack?” Jack yelps. “All four of them? And they’re all alphas? There has to be more to the pack than that, right?”

Mel makes a disagreeing sound. “If there were more, they’d have signed. This is a very formal pre-courtship gift. Well. Mostly formal.”

You have to resist chewing on your lip. “Should I eat it?”

“No reason to waste a perfectly nice lunch,” they point out. Jack and Chrissy make agreeing noises. “But I’d probably wait to eat the cake until you get home.”

“So I can think about it?”

“What? No. You’ve already decided to hear them out,” Mel dismisses. “I just wouldn’t eat a sex cake at work.”

That startles a squawking laugh out of you. “It’s not a sex cake!”

“Oh, so they got a custom syrup cake that matches your scent as a platonic gesture?” Chrissy challenges.

“…There’s a little bit of cardamom,” you admit. “That’s Sergeant Garrick’s scent.”

“It’s a sex cake,” Mel confirms over the train whistle noise Chrissy makes before she can mute herself again. “When Garrick shows up to escort you to your car this evening, maybe don’t chew his head off.”

“Oh no,” you groan. Your head thumps against your arm as you throw yourself down onto the desk. “He was trying to ask for permission to court me and I was a complete bitch to him.”

You deserve the laughter of your best friends for that. But eventually, you rally. If you’re actually going to enjoy your lunch, you have to start eating now or you’ll have to eat and work later. You start with the sandwich and mute your mic as you take a huge bite. By unspoken agreement, the conversation shifts to the weekend and Jack’s heat, then Chrissy’s client who insists on in person meetings three days before her heat. Mel lets you all ramble for a good twenty minutes before ushering everyone off the phone since Jack is the only one who doesn’t have deadlines and scheduled clients.

Which leaves you staring at the cake.

Your eyes dart to the still closed door of your office, then back. You’re too full of good food to eat a whole cake, but… a bite couldn’t hurt. And while the gift is definitely a little… suggestive… it’s not actually a sex cake. Just a bit... decadent. Sherry’s husband sends her flowers that match their pack’s scents. That’s basically the same thing.

Right?

Before you can second guess yourself, you scoop a bite into your mouth.

The taste that bursts over your tongue makes you moan out loud. You definitely should have waited until you got home. The cake is so rich, cut by the orange and whiskey in a way that almost demands a second bite. There’s something indescribable teasing the back of your palate, hidden by cardamom and the hint of something - raspberry? - but so distinctly there. When you try to focus on it, you keep coming back to a smokiness that can’t be anything but the alcohol.

Before you know it, you’ve eaten a quarter of the little cake. Your stomach feels warm, and you admit to yourself that it’s probably not a good idea to keep consuming alcohol at work. So you close the little box and lick the fork while you log back into your computer one handed. Your lips are sticky. Even after you use your thumb to help clean them off you’re so aware of them.

You catch yourself pursing and rolling your lips through the rest of your day. You can’t resist taking another bite every now and then. Every time, you remember Mel calling it a sex cake and wonder if Captain Price thought about this when placed the order. You remember the way Lieutenant Riley’s eyes had slid down your body. Had he known he wanted to send you this cake then? Did Sergeant MacTavish imagine you licking your fork when he signed the note? Was Sergeant Garrick thinking about this moment when he saw you yesterday?

When the day ends, you send a picture of the cake with more than a third missing to the group chat as you log out. I fucked up, it’s a sex cake.

Beta Daddy: Told you.

Best Bitch: WHAT DOES IT TASTE LIKE

Barbie: drinks at mel and jax tonite

You: :thumbsup:

You: genuinely no idea how to describe, i’ll try tonight

You’re nervous, closing up shop for the evening. Would Sergeant Garrick be waiting for you again? Or will your hyper-independence come back to bite you? You hope someone will be there to walk you, and the possibility of that not being the case cools you. And then you look back at the box of cake in your hands and flush hot. Maybe it’s better that you don’t run into anyone after an entire afternoon of rubbing your lips and thinking of the 141.

You’re shocked out of your musings just before you can exit the building by Brandon of all people calling your name. With a groan, you’re dropped back to reality. You at least let yourself step outside for some fresh air before he can reach you.

“Sherry said the 141 had a question for you. What was it?” Not even a hello. Typical. Thanks a lot, Sherry.

Luckily, you have a lie prepared. “Just another question about Cloudstone.”

“What question?” He steps closer, trying to use his height to intimidate. “I’m the point of contact, they should be speaking to me directly.”

“Hm. Maybe should’ve reached out to you,” Lieutenant Riley’s voice says from behind your right shoulder. “Got a lo’ of info on alpha enhancements, then?”

Brandon’s shocked, offended scent almost drowns out the Lieutenant’s. Almost. You tilt your head before you realize you’re doing it, and catch that hint of something that you’ve been chasing all afternoon, earthy and intriguing. Your mouth waters. You barely stop yourself from biting your lip and tune back into the conversation.

“I wasn’t able to give them an answer today,” you butt in, before Brandon can get too worked up. “I’ll CC you on the email when I have everything.”

“Fine,” Brandon says, glaring daggers at the Lieutenant.

And then the three of you just… stand there.

Behind you, Lieutenant Riley smells amused. “Dismissed.”

Brandon gapes at him. “I beg your pardon?”

“You’re dismissed. Unless you have more to add on the subject.”

Being caught between clashing alphas is not how you thought today would end. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see people look at Lieutenant Riley, then at Brandon, and then visibly decide to wait to exit the building. When you start to inch away, the lieutenant touches just beneath your left shoulder blade with the tips of his fingers. You freeze with a sharp inhale. Brandon looks between the two of you. Then his face settles into a sneer.

“Think hard about what you say next,” Lieutenant Riley ways with almost no inflection. Brandon’s face freezes and goes a little pale. You remember, suddenly, that the man at your back is also called the Ghost. “Because challenging me won’t go well for you. Walk away under your own power.”

The resonance of his voice combines with the way his scent teases your olfactory nerves and sends a shiver through you. You’re suddenly aware of the warmth that’s been building behind your bellybutton all afternoon. You don’t hear the next thing Brandon says. He’s too focused on his own offense to notice your distraction, thank the gods, but -

One of the fingers at your back taps you gently, once, twice. And then you feel the gentlest scrape of a fingernail against your shirt.

“I have to go,” you squeak, taking a step toward the parking lot. To Brandon, you say “I will make sure I email you first thing in the morning.”

You can see Brandon’s jaw working, but no matter how irritated he is, he’s outmatched and he knows it. After a moment, he answers. “See that you do.”

“’Ll walk you,” Lieutenant Riley intones. “Wanna make sure I understand the answer to the Captain’s question.” He turns his back to Brandon and gestures for you to continue walking.

A part of you wants to see what will happen if Brandon answers the obvious insult. It’s not hard to imagine the crunch of his body hitting the pavement, the way the Ghost might growl down and force him to yield. Another, loud part of you needs to not get this wet standing right outside of your office. So you hustle away and try to cool yourself down.

Of course, the Lieutenant is right beside you. You chance a glance up - he’s so tall! - at his face, covered today by a black surgical mask. His brown eyes catch yours and crinkle at the edges as he smiles, but he doesn’t say anything. Just keeps walking with you until you’re standing next to your car.

“Sorry,” he says, looking across the car park. “Weren’t my intention to cause trouble.”

“No,” you say, fidgeting with the edge of your jacket and looking at your keys in your hand. “It’s not your fault, I, um, I told my coworker that lunch was work-related. I guess she told Brandon.”

He nods. “Tha’s fair. Should I tell the Cap’n that lunch was work-related?”

When you look back up, he’s already gazing back at you. There’s just enough light to see his eyes darken as he tips his head up just a bit. He’s scenting you, his effect on you. You feel your face get hot as you look away from him again.

He gives an amused-sounding huff. “Need time to think about it?”

Do you? “No, I… I would be open to discussing an intention of courtship.”

Lieutenant Riley purrs. It’s deep and gravely, but unmistakable for anything else. The sound startles you into meeting his eyes. This time, he holds your gaze and takes a step forward, then another when you back up until you bump into your car. He doesn’t come any closer, but his eyes say that he wants to.

“Skipper wants to meet somewhere open,” he says. “The Spice Garden has a nice outdoor space, if you’re free Saturday.”

You almost say yes, but catch yourself. “I… have to help my friend through his heat this weekend.”

He nods his head, never breaking eye contact. “Next week, then.”

You do a quick calculation in your head. “I can be free tomorrow evening by… seven, as long as things aren’t too… formal.”

“Won’t be formal,” he assures you. “Cap insisted on a gift and formal invitation, but we don’t stand too much on ceremony. Bit unconventional, far as packs go.”

You nod, too fast. “Okay. I… does tomorrow work?”

“If you wanted us tonight, you could have us,” he answers, eyes crinkling again. He takes a step back, looking at the box in your hand, then back into your eyes. “Tomorrow then. Enjoy the cake.”

[violetarks]

I read your most recent post and am deeply sorry for this ask..

Could you maybe write chishiya x reader fluff? Like it's cuddles and words stuff like that?

"scoot over."

show: alice in borderland

character: chishiya shuntaro

summary: after a hard game, you decide to unwind. the hatter throws another party, but chishiya is only interested in finding out why you weren't attending.

warnings: g/n! reader, they/them pronouns used, second person pov

a/n: no amount of apologies could atone to your mistake. (im joking, thank you for the request, i hope you enjoy!!)

"well done." you hear your assigned partner for the last game, ann, say to you. she pats your back gently, fixing her sunglasses on her nose. "only a handful of cards left now."

you sigh out, craning your neck to relieve some tension, "thanks, ann. you too, you were great. i just can't wait to leave this place..."

she didn't know whether you speaking about the borderlands or the beach. the place was always loud and cheerful, and while that was a nice change in pace for the world they were in, sometimes somebody just needed some good peace and quiet.

but ann only removes her hand from your back, walking off towards her room. "i understand. get some rest."

a silent 'thank you' is said as you walk pass the atrium, looking down the hallway to see the crowds of people and hatter presenting the card you had just won and returned. everyone cheered, music starting up again as hatter claims another party is to be thrown.

to the beach! grab your towels and find some booze! it's time to celebrate another win!

you see the other executives standing behind him, nodding their heads and following to the party. but instead of joining, you rub your face and stifle a yawn. your room was further from the pools, so you could have some quiet.

sweat dripped down your back and you pull the collar of your summer shirt, trying to blow some cold air down your chest. why did the game have to be held in an open field, with no shade, while it was scorching hot. it's a wonder how ann managed to look so put together in such heat.

reaching your room was a safe haven, and you closed your door to flop onto your bed with ease. the promptly grabbed the remote and turned on the air conditioning, sighing dreamily at how the cold air hit your hot skin. it was almost too good to be true, how the electricity was still on. they hadn't checked on the generator in a while.

it isn't long until you hear the faint laughter and music coming from the party. it was a normal occurrence at this point, and you were glad that not many people partied inside the hotel. it gave you time to close your eyes and get into a comfortable position to sleep in.

there's a whisper of knocks at your door.

"who is it?" you groan, wiping your eyes.

the person replies, "astroboy."

you sit up, running fingers through your hair as you retort, "come in." chishiya marches through the door, closing it behind him. he crosses his arms over his chest as he studies you. "what do you need?"

"i just came by to congratulate the winner of the last game." he states, watching you crawl back under the first thin layer of blanket on your double bed, "the eight of clubs. always knew you were the trusting type."

with your back to him, you talk, "i trust you, don't i? that's risky enough."

"ann told us that you were the leader in that game. i'm impressed." chishiya compliments, coming closer and picking up the small teddy keychain on your beside table. you had found a ball machine and a broken one, so using the coins from that, you won yourself a blue teddy keychain. chishiya told you to just get them all, but you said one was enough. "i thought you would be down there celebrating with everyone else."

you shake your head, yawning, "i'm too tired to go out there. i'm staying in my room for the night to sleep."

"oh, is that so?" he hums, putting the keychain down, "i'm the same. i can't be bothered watching them out there in this weather. it's agonising."

you nod your head in agreement, laying on your back. chishiya was always a nice guy that you were close with. he was sarcastically smart and sometimes got on your nerves. he was lucky you were so fond of him, he would've been kicked out of here if it weren't for that.

"wanna' stay?" you ask, looking to the ceiling.

"with you?" he mumbles.

"no, we'll do a room swap—yes with me, idiot." you grumble out, turning around again.

chishiya grins at your tone before muttering, "scoot over."

you do so. it's silent for two seconds before he does lay beside you. you can feel the heat radiating off him, so close that chishiya could see the hair blowing in your face from the air conditioning.

"what's wrong?" he asks, looking to the back of your head. you reply that 'it's nothing', but chishiya isn't buying it. "you usually at least stop by at every one of these parties. common courtesy for you. are you that tired?"

you don't say anything to him at first, but then, you turn around and lock eyes with the blonde. chishiya is on his back, he sees how you knit your brows in irritation.

"do you miss home?" you question, playing with the blanket, "our real home?"

"of course, who doesn't? these games dwindle our numbers and we don't even know why we're here." chishiya states, looking unbothered by what he said, "it's a fascinating world, though."

"it's a prison." you mumble into the blanket. your knee nudges his thigh, and chishiya lays a hand on the pillow, in between the both of you. staring at his fingers, you reach out and put your palm over his, gently. "i miss home."

"what was your home like?" he questions, eyed tracing your every breath.

"it was quieter than here. i used to cook with the tv going on in the background so it didn't sound like i was alone and that somebody was in the other room watching." you claimed, closing your eyes for a second, "but it was also really nice being by myself. my friends used to take me out all the time because i was a 'homebody'. all i had was work and home."

chishiya chuckles, brushing fingers over your knuckles, "that was just like me. i only had my work. and i worked at the hospital more than i spent time at home. my apartment was a good walk away, so i saw no point, y'know?"

you let out a hum, staring at your hands, "if we lived together, we'd barely see each other."

he smiles softly, nodding once. "i guess you're right."

"but it's still nice living by yourself. cooking for one, cleaning for one." you comment, suddenly missing your bedroom and your living room and kitchen. all that you were surrounded by before. "i've never spent a whole lot on groceries either, only as much as i needed. you don't need to do more than yourself. and there's nobody else to worry about..."

you were so tired. you missed being able to sleep in and not having to go to bed early because you had a death-defying game to play the next day. you missed not having to think about your life to intricately. you missed your actual life.

"you wouldn't have to worry about me." chishiya says, and your eyes open to see the blonde looking back at you with certainty. his hand clutches yours warmly. "i wouldn't make you worry."

"you promise?" you ask quietly, knitting your brows.

"if you want me to." he tells you. your brows upturn. "i promise."

chishiya was the most normal thing about your life right now. someone who just likes to see you around every now and again. more often than he'd like to admit. but he was so warm and considerate.

a swift movement of yours has arms around chishiya's neck, hugging him close to your chest as your bury your face into his hair. he lets out a small huff at the action before hands rest on your hips, snaking to around your waist. the blanket nearly covers all of chishiya, and he feels your hot skin shiver twice before calming down. he rubs your back gently as your shoulders relax.

"when we get back, you'll find me?" you ask, hopeful.

he can hear your heartbeat grow faster. "you will." he responds.

"tell me about your life?" you request.

he hums, leaning back and facing the ceiling again. you scoot closer, keeping an arm stretched across his chest and laying your head on his shoulder. "med student. i work with patients requiring transplants and people on waiting lists, but i'm an all round." he explains, "my apartment is of decent size. i have a spare bedroom that i keep all extra storage in. my study is filled. i have to say, it is nice living alone."

you nod your head, and chishiya goes on, "i usually get breakfast on the way to work; just one sugar and a quarter milk, or sometimes i just get black coffee with two sugars." he can tell you're only half listening, from the way you're playing with the strings of his jacket. but he doesn't mind. "on my breaks, i go to this takeout place across from the hospital. they sell my favourite meat buns, i always buy at least two."

he taps your back, twice you note. and you look up at him. "when we get out of here, remind me to show you." he says, "it can be our spot."

you stare at him for a while before nodding slowly. "yeah... okay."

he leans down to press a kiss to the crown of your head, muttering back with she unknown knowledge, "you'll come find me one way or another."

[bedoballoons]

This. Is. Gold. I have no idea who requested this but I love you and thank you. I hope you enjoy and I'm sorry you had to wait so long!

─⊰⁠⊹ฺ❄️𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤⊰⁠⊹ฺ❄️

{༻~At your service and your mercy~༺}

CW: Suggestive! MDNI! GN! Reader, reader wears a maid out fit, a few times the reader calls the character master, mentions of the skirt being short, some slightly nsfw requests from the characters, sitting in lap, and making out. As well as one spank from Kaeya :p

(Includes: Diluc, Neuvillette, Wriothesley, and Kaeya!)

𑁍༄Diluc:

"Thank you Adelind-" Diluc caught himself as he looked up at you...his eyes widening and a blush growing on his cheeks, "I- why are you dressed like a maid?"

You chuckled and leaned in to kiss his cheek, moving a piece of his firey red hair behind his ear, "It's your birthday today and I thought it would be nice to spoil you. So I told Adelinde to take the day off and plan to do everything she would have, and more of course~" You winked at him suggestively and hurried to fetch his drink, leaving him wondering just how many...other things, you had planned for this day...he secretly hoped no one else would show up wanting to celebrate his birthday...he'd much rather stay with you instead.

𑁍༄Neuvillette:

You poured Neuvillettes water into his cup, trying to had the satisfied smile that kept creeping onto your lips when you felt his eyes on you. "Oh Monsieur Neuvillette, I've poured your water, is there anything else I can do for you~" You set the jug on a nearby side table, taking your place beside his desk and awaiting his orders... excitement coursing through your veins, he could order you to do anything and you'd gladly accept as his sweet maid.

"Perhaps...you could sit with me for a moment.." Your heart skipped a beat as he gestured to his lap, the pads of his fingers tapping against his desk like he was growing impatient..."Of course master." You climbed into his lap, feeling his hands pull your waist further down on his lap, the seam of his pants rubbing against your thigh. You adubily gasped at how tight his grip got..

"You said anything...right?"

"Yes master~"

𑁍༄Wriothesley:

"How am I supposed to get any work done with you dressed like this~" Wriothesleys voice was almost a growl as his words escaped between heated kisses, his rough hand slowly sliding your already short skirt up to your waist and his knee in between your legs. Seems your plan of being a maid for his birthday was just what he wanted, you moaned quietly tugging on his hair as his lips crashed into yours.

"It's merely a gift Wrio, you could tell me to take it off anytime, any order you give me I'll fulfill~" You clicked your tongue at the end of your sentence, watching as his eyes dazed at the thought.

"Any order hmm? Maybe...maybe I'll leave the work to the gardemeks today. I can't leave my pretty little made bored now can I?"

𑁍༄Kaeya:

You jumped as Kaeyas hand landed firmly on your rear and sent blush straight to your face, "M-master Kaeya I-" He hushed you with a quick kiss, his arms wrapping around you and pulling you close to his body. He'd been using his birthday gift to his best advantage, asking you to cook his favourite food and let him feed you grapes, to let him touch you and anything else he could think of that caught his fancy.

"May I, have my beautiful maid take a break from their duties for a couple hours and spend some time with their master in his room. He's getting rather impatient, even with the perfect maids work~" The tone in his voice sent a shiver down your spine, whatever he had in store was sure to leave you unable to fulfil any other duties. "But of course master~"

ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚~Have a nice day!~*⁠.⁠✧

[c0nfessions-of-a-writing-freak]

Scarred Beauty

Pairing: Zuko x Fem!Reader

Word count: 809

Summary: It had almost become a tradition for you and Zuko to talk after the sun had gone down, leaving the both of you wrapped in a blanket of secrecy. But after Zuko falls asleep a little too early, it leaves you to wonder.

Bingo: @eclipsingbingo with 'Tracing Scars'

When you first met Zuko, you honestly thought he was trying to kill you. The way his lip would curl up upon laying his eyes on you, or how he would single you out in a fight so he could make sure he was the only one who had a shot at you, it all made every moment between the two of you dreadful and when he decided to join your 'team' you could only think of the worst case scenario.

But now, now that you've got to know Zuko without the usual heat that came with his arrival or the scornful glare that he had to keep up, he was starting to grow on you.

It hadn't been instant, you, but probably Katara, took the longest to warm up to him. It was hard to look past all the times he had tried to capture you, burn you alive, hunt you down and even sell you out, but once you had tried, you felt your efforts rewarded tenfold as Zuko did his best to get to know you.

His mannerisms have changed a lot since the first time you met him. Instead of the brash, whiny and impatient prince who needed to get his way, you were met with a gentle, intelligent and peaceful warrior who had joined the fight against the Fire Nation.

He had grown more protective, making sure no one got hurt and always seeking you out first to check for injuries. He offered his guidance to both Aang and whoever else would take it, leading to the two of you bending together. Whenever the two of you would, due to your clashing elements, it always put on quite the show for the others as they watched fire try to wash away water.

It was how you believed you ended up here, lying beneath a sea of stars. The two of you were side by side, the others quite a distance away as they slept peacefully, getting ready for a day of adventure. Not the two of you though. You both had grown accustomed to the late-night talks that you weren't sure who had first started them.

It was such a regular occurrence that if one of you noticed the other one waiting out, you would rush the night along, getting into positions like you were currently in. Even the rest of the gang had grown used to this and wouldn't question it if the two of you went off together or when they awoke they found you both laying next to each other somewhere.

The topics that you would speak about were vast, never being a copy of the night before. You had spoken about what it had been like growing up and how your childhoods had varied, though you both found comfort in one another for a feeling of isolation. Talk of tradition and training, even gossip that the other would have a hard time following along with. Whatever could be spoken about had been.

Except for the large scar that took up a good chunk of Zuko's face. You had never felt the need to ask, even now, as you had turned away from the stars above to face Zuko, the older boy asleep far too early than he would've liked to be, you couldn't bring yourself to ever ask. If it was something that Zuko would ever want to talk about, then he would bring it up himself. But since that was yet to happen, you kept any topic of conversation far from it.

That didn't stop you from staring at it now. Even in the darkness, it was a large contrast from the rest of his face. For so long you had only ever allowed your eyes to briefly linger on the scar, only ever allowed your eyes to trace the corners of it and take it in. But now, a delicate hand reached forward and with a feather-light tip of your finger, your skin came in contact with his scared.

Where others may have seen brutality or felt disgust and pity at the sight, you couldn't help but wonder how such a large portion of his face seemed to bring so much life to Zuko's being, how though it may hide the beauty that may have once been there, a new beauty bloomed with it.

Only when you were satisfied did you draw your hand away. You had done enough looking for tonight. Instead, you curled in on yourself, trying to store as much heat as you could for the night, not wanting to leave Zuko's side.

And when the others found the two of you wrapped around one another in the morning, they turned a blind eye and allowed the both of you to come to your own senses and figure out the mess you were both slowly creating.

[matchaxberries]

Day 3: Masked

Kakashi Hatake x F!Reader One-Shot

Warnings: Probably ooc Kakashi, oral-ish f!receiving, light biting, fingering, “doll” being used for reader once, (not proofread!!)

It was rare to find Kakashi with his mask off, only (y/n) really had the privilege of regularly seeing him with it off. Though she adored his face, and kissing his lips, and feeling him against her, she always wondered how the smooth cloth would feel on her lips. If it would be pleasing or get in the way, or even if he had his eye cover on, would it change anything in the bedroom? She wanted her questions to be put to rest, and soon. (Y/n) stretched her arms out with a yawn, patrolling the streets of the Leaf Village.

She looks around and spots her partner doing the same task, just walking the opposite direction. She hums a bit and skips over to him. “Kakashi!~ How is your patrol going?” She questions with a small head tilt. Kakashi brings his book down away from his face, tilting his head back. His one visible eye closes, as he smiles under his mask. “It’s going well. How about yours, (y/n)?” Kakashi usually stays a bit more professional when on the job, even though he walks around reading rather intriguing books. “Hmm… ‘Kashi, what are you reading?” (Y/n) questions, taking his book from his hands to see where he stopped at in his chapter.

Kakashi had no time to protest, as she scans the page a small heat creeps up to her cheeks. “You shouldn’t be reading this when patrolling you know…” she lets out a small sigh. He looks away, giving a small nod in return, (y/n)’s cheeks puff out, “you know you have the real thing, you don’t need those books.” She starts, waving the book around slightly in front of his face. “The real deal won’t let me bend her over anywhere, so I have to read the books instead while I’m on patrol. Unless you’re implying you’ll take me right here, (y/n).” He teases, taking the book from her fingers, giving another closed eye smile, even if you couldn’t see his mouth. (Y/n) opens her mouth to attempt a protest, and he turns on his heel to begin his patrolling again. “Wait- who said I wouldn’t?” She says quickly in his direction, trying not to let the heat settling in her core stop her from her bold advances. She’s had sex with Kakashi multiple times, but it doesn’t stop her from fantasizing of ways they haven’t done it before.

Kakashi lets out a hum, turning back to lightly grab her wrist with his gloved hand. He begins to drag her off, and makes his way behind a building, safely covered by trees and bushes as to not get caught. His book long forgotten, closed in his bag at his side, “you can’t be getting loud on me, (y/n).” He states to her, running his hands through her hair. He pushes her against the back of the building, humming all while he does so, he goes to pull his mask down from his face, and (y/n)’s hands reach up to stop him. “Uhm- can we try, with your mask on, ‘Kashi?” She adverts her gaze from his own, he gives a small nod, and attempts a kiss placing his clothed mouth over her own. She gives a small noise, feeling how the cloth keeps her from exactly what she’s craving, it’s soft against her lips.

Kakashi pulls away, and tilts her head to the side so he has access to her neck, he has a quick internal debate about how he’s going to do anything, though he decides on pressing his nose against her, and nipping at her through the cloth. The way his teeth feel dulled down against her causes her to squirm against the wall. It’s not enough at all, though at the same time it’s plenty to keep her going. He continues biting at her through the cloth, trailing his way down to her shoulders, the cold metal of his headband hits against her lightly on an occasion, not that she minds too much. He takes his mouth off of her, a bit displeased with how little marks his teeth left because of the cushioning of the mask. He goes to his knees rather quickly, pulling her pants away from her leaving her standing in underwear, his face right at her heat. “In my book, earlier, they were similar, you won’t mind if I get a taste tight?” He questions, (y/n) gives a small nod, letting him know he can continue on. He presses his clothed nose, right against her own clothed cunt, he breathes in. “Your smell is always lovely…” He comments mostly to himself, he begins to attempt to lick, his mask becoming wet as he does so, and finally the wetness hits her own fabric, wetting her clit as he pushes against it.

He runs his hands up her thighs, using his nose to stimulate her lightly. He uses a finger to pry her underwear to the side pressing a digit against her hole. (Y/n) lets out a small noise, placing her hands in his hair in the process. He dips a finger in, feeling her wet walls against such, (y/n) gives a small gasp, biting back to keep herself quiet. He moves to place his moth right over her entrance, prodding at it with his tongue, creating a soiled patch right on his mask. He inhales her scent as much as possible, almost thrusting at the air from that alone. He continues rubbing his nose against her clit, dipping his finger in deeper beginning to pump it in and out hastily. (Y/n) squeezes her eyes shut, reeling forward ever so slightly. He adds another finger to her entrance, (y/n) feels the way his mask is slowly dampening more while sitting face first at her heat, a feeling begins to creep into the pit of her stomach. She squeezes her legs together as much as possible, Kakashi’s other hand keeping her thighs apart just enough to continue. (Y/n) gives a quick ‘hggh!’ As she feels her insides clench around his slender digits, Kakashi slowly fingers her a few more times, letting her ride off her high. She begins to pant lightly, keeping quiet was more of a struggle than she originally thought.

“Good job (y/n)~” he comments, pulling his fingers out of her, and moving his face away from her cunt. He moves her underwear back to cover her up, standing up with a small stretch. “Awh, you ruined my mask huh?” He sniffs in again, he pulls his mask off of his face with his non-sticky hand, and he smiles to her once his mouth is visible. He puts the mask into his bag at his side, and pries (y/n)’s lips apart lightly with his soiled fingers, sticking them in. “Clean them up like a good girl.” He lightly demands, her tongue wraps around his digits as she tastes her own juice. Once deemed clean, he takes his fingers from her mouth, and places a kiss right to it, finally un-masked. They linger for a moment, continuing their kiss. Kakashi pulls away first, and (y/n) gives him a small pout, he pulls a new mask from his pocket, placing it back over his face. “We should get back to work mhm?” He rubs a thumb across her cheek, giving her a soft look, and helping her pull her pants back to herself, and helps straighten up her look.

(Y/n) smiles up at him, “I think after patrol you should fuck me with the mask on, you’d look good looming over me like that. And your breathing would get heavier.” She lightly pushes herself into his chest, hugging him, before stretching her arms in the air above herself. He hugs back, and watches her stretch, “yeah, okay. I’ll look forward to it doll.” He turns and makes his way out from behind the building and through the bushes, she watches him go with a small smile, and waits a moment before exiting from the opposite side, just in case of anyone being around.

Character count: 7228

Word count: 1341

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