#small thoughts pebble brain

[its-okay-youre-adorable]

im very glad to exist in a world where i can eat cereal

[pedrospatch]

conflicted

Raider! Joel Miller x Female Reader

summary: Your captor gives you a bath. You have some conflicting feelings when he touches you.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. RAIDER ERA. DARK!JOEL. DUBCON. also tagging elements of NONCON just to be on the safe side. UNSPECIFIED AGE GAP (reader is in her 20’s and Joel is 50). READER HAS NO PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION. mentions of Joel’s group murdering reader’s group, Joel killed her father, mention of blood, Joel pretty much kidnaps reader and keeps her as his own. pet names (baby, babygirl, honey, pretty girl, little girl), daddy kink, very minimal editing.

PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS.

if this isn’t your thing, that’s fine, just scroll on by.

word count: <1k

a/n: this is a bit less than a blurb. a blurb of a blurb. a blurbette, if you will. i shelled it out in like less than an hour. to me it is part of the captive universe, but can be read as a standalone! please be advised that this is not fleshed out at all, i just felt like writing something that didn’t require too much brain power.

He pours one last pail of hot water into the tub.

“How’s the water?” he asks you.

His voice is so deep. Rich, like molasses. 

It’s also laced with a southern accent, you’d noticed.

Aware he’s still waiting for an answer, you shrug.

He tries again. “S’not too hot, is it?”

He had ordered one of the women in the group to start a fire and boil water collected from the stream they had stumbled upon just a mile south of the small cottage.

“Seriously, Joel?” Angela had glared at him. “I am not a fucking maid.” Hands planted on her hips, she foolishly added, “If I’m gonna haul and boil water for a bath, it’s gonna be for me, alright? Not for that little fucking brat of yours.”

His switchblade had gone straight to her throat.

“Fuckin’ say that again,” Joel hissed, the sharp edge of the blade lightly slicing into her flesh. “Call her that one more time and see what fuckin’ happens.”

She apologized and then got to work, completing the task within a couple of hours.

Finally, you answer his question.

“Water’s fine,” you mumble. It’s hot, but not scalding.

“Good.”

Joel kneels beside the tub.

Flinching, you hunch over and pull your legs up against your chest.

It doesn’t matter. He’s already seen you naked.

He’s the one who had undressed you, after all.

Dipping a washcloth into the water, Joel instructs, “Sit up straight, honey.”

Honey.

The pet name makes you feel sick to your stomach.

You’re not his honey. You’re his prisoner.

He frowns, the creases between his brows deepening.

“Don’t make me repeat myself, pretty girl.”

Obediently, you nod and the water sloshes around you as do what he says.

You saw what he was capable of. You’re terrified of him.

With a satisfied hum, he begins washing you.

It had been three days since the massacre. Joel gently scrubs away the crimson caked onto your skin and the color of the water turns to rust. You don’t know whose blood you’ve been wearing—could it be your father’s?

He had been standing in front of you when his life was taken by the very same man that knelt beside you. Had his blood splattered on you? Was it being cleaned off by the same man who had so violently spilled it?

Your stomach lurches at the thought.

He had been trying to protect you during the ambush.

Your father had been trying to fucking protect you.

And Joel Miller had killed him.

He had killed him just to get to you.

Joel runs the washcloth down your arm, his dark gaze dragging over every inch of your body. “Such a pretty, pretty little girl,” he murmurs. Dropping the washcloth into the water, he gently cups one of your breasts in his large hand. He sweeps his thumb over your nipple and lightly teases the pebbled flesh, his digit circling it until it becomes a stiff peak.

Your eyes flutter closed and you inhale sharply.

There’s a strange feeling in your lower belly.

Strange because it’s not entirely unpleasant.

He trails his hand lower, raking over your tummy.

Lower.

Lower.

Lower.

He rests his palm over the mound of your pussy.

Gasping, your thighs clench together.

You’d like to think it’s to keep him out, to keep him from violating you further, but the burning pressure building in between your hips seems to be saying otherwise.

Horrified, you squeeze your thighs even tighter.

No. Don’t let him in.

But what if your resistance led him to force his way in?

You shudder, unable to decide which would be worse.

Joel leans forward over the bathtub, pressing his lips to your temple. “Don’t fight it, honey. S’okay that it feels good,” he mumbles against your skin. “It’s s’pposed to feel good when I touch you, baby.”

No, it’s fucking not!

Bowing your head, quietly begin to sob.

He wraps his arms around you. “Don’t cry, babygirl,” he soothes. “Don’t cry. Daddy’s gonna take real good care of you. I promise I’ll always take good care of you.”

His vow makes you cry even harder.

divider credit @saradika 🤍

[dcangel]

^stiles would be SUCH a whore for tits

especially after an awful week, he’s just looking forward to hanging out with you. he wasn’t expecting anything from you, as usual, but when you laid down while he was kissing you, tugging his shirt for him to get on top of you, he got the hint.

he knew you probably had something more planned for him, but stiles was just happy to be here with you, let alone lined up for a good night. his jean-clad hips were situated between your spread thighs, his hands respectfully at your waist despite what you had told him about wanting him in a not so respectful way.

one hand slid up your torso and briefly rested at the base of your neck before finding home in your hair, tugging gently at the roots.

his other hand gets a little more adventurous; sliding up your torso with his thumb hooked under the hem of your shirt. the fabric is brought up, slowly revealing a gorgeous black and red lace patterned bra, a small bow in the middle where the underwire of each cup met, and neat roses lining the top. stiles was too invested in your lips to notice, but when he felt the foreign texture beneath his calloused fingertips, he took a quick peek down.

you felt his lips detach from yours. stiles was staring down as the pretty article of clothing that really did nothing to hide your hardened nipples. his jaw hung agape, yet his lips were barely parted.

he’d never seen you in such clothing. sure, you’d worn patterned bras before, but you’ve never worn lingerie for him.

stiles swore he’s never seen something prettier, someone more angelic. the ineffable beauty of his girl took every word—every thought that didn’t contain you right out of his brain.

you broke him and it was obvious. you could nearly see the gears malfunctioning behind his eyes as he tried to process the alluring sight in front of him.

you watched as stiles’ eyes skimmed over the neatly threaded fabric and the skin underneath, not a single thought of even looking up at you yet. his large hands immediately cupping the doughy mounds, thumb smoothing over your pebbled nipple.

“you like it? I just got it last week, ’nd I was saving it for—well, was gonna save it for your birthday but you were having a bad week, so…”

“you—it’s,” he blew an hefty breeze of air from his mouth as if he couldn’t believe his eyes, “I can’t believe you’d do this for me. I mean, you’re, like, so unbelievably gorgeous right now—no, I mean, you always are, but right now you’re…” brown eyes flickered up to yours briefly, but dropped back down like an invisible force was attracting them like a magnet.

smiling at his hyperactive mind that his mouth often struggled to keep up with, you brought his blushed face back down you yours, his swollen lips fervently meeting yours with esurience.

of course his hands never left your chest. long, slender fingers cupped and squished the soft, doughy mounds of flesh. he could not get over the way you looked in his favorite color. stiles’ appreciation for the color deepened along with the feeling of need.

and suddenly it was like stiles couldn’t scrape the image of fucking you, with nothing on your body except this little bra, out of his mind. it’s was as if he couldn’t imagine not having you like this whenever he wanted, and he knew you’d agree.

[rafedaddy01]

Sleeping with the boss pt2

Warnings: smut

Link to part one

Part 3

-

It’s been days since rafe snuck into your bed and forced himself inside of you, and you’ve been thinking of it happening again, hoping. But you knew it couldn’t, he was your boss and it was wrong, you didn’t want it and he forced himself on you anyway. You couldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing he made your brain fuzzy with the mind blowing orgasm he gave you.

You’re tidying up some laundry in the washroom when rafe comes in, throwing his sweaty gym clothes in the hamper and totally eye fucking you as he leans against the door frame and watches you move.

You try to push him away from your thoughts, focusing on your work so you can get out of here faster. Being in a conformed space with him makes your breathing turn rapid and your heart thud.

Suddenly you hear the door close behind you and the lock turn. Your eyes go wide and you’re stuck in place as Rafes firm hands grip your hips, bending you a little forward until your hands fall against the washing machine which rumbles slowly under you.

“Rafe-“ you started to say but are shushed by his soft words, “shh shh shh, don’t make a sound.” He lifts the hem of your pretty sundress and bunches it up in his fist as he groans at your sprawled out ass, the string of your thong basically non-existent as it rides between your plump cheeks.

“You walk around my house wearing this?” Your about to answer back, tell him to get off you and push him away so you can storm out the room and leave, but the sting of his hand smacking against your right ass cheek makes you push forward, falling completely against the washing machine. Tits pressed firmly against the glass lid, and the little rumbling rubbing your nipples just right, making you groan as they pebble.

“Please” you whine out. “Are you asking me to stop…” he palms your ass before delivering another, more gentle, smack “or continue” you hear him shuffle behind you and you manage to move your head to see him better, he’s pulling his sweatpants down along with his boxers and fisting his cock, “because I don’t care what you have to say. I told you the other night I’d have you begging for me to fill this tight ass of yours up, I’m here to make that happen” you start panicking. The tears starting to form as you try to move, but the hand that’s still holding your dress bunched up is pressed into your back and holds you in place.

“Ah, ah, ah. Not so fast” he tuts as he smirks down at you. He uses his free hand to pull at the little material that’s covering your ass and pull it off your body before his hand snakes around to your front and stuffs the panties into your mouth. You can smell your own arousal, taste it. And it disgusts you, knowing that you’re getting this wet from him forcing himself on you. But it also makes every nerve in your body crave him more.

You subconsciously start moving back, searching for him, rubbing yourself on him, as you muffle out little please’s.

He doesn’t even warn you as he thrusts fully into you, your walls contracting to take him in, and your body coming limp as he starts moving in and out. Rutting into your poor pussy. His thumb comes up to your tight ring and he pushes it in slowly, testing his limits. And when you push back, your hands flying to the washing machine for support, he plunges his thumb fully in. “Such a tight ass for me, baby” he groans as he pulls his thumb out and pushes back in, loving the way your pussy flutters around his cock.

“First m’gunna fill this wet pussy of yours,” he thrusts in harder making you whine and leans back against him, “and then I’m gonna fuck this tight ass of yours” he smacks your left cheek and the mixture of pain and pleasure is all it takes for you to let go, cumming all over his cock and muffled moans and grunts from rafe fill the small room. “Shh, shh, you did so good for me” he soothes you as he slowly thrusts in and out, groaning wildly as you suck him in and he loses it. “Fuck” he grits out as he stills and fills you up.

He pulls out and doesn’t waste any time, gathering your slick juices mixed with his own and lubricating your ass as his tip probes into your tight ring before pushing in slowly. Every inch feels like time slows down, every ridge making your body feel on fire. But you need more, crave it.

So you push back, hard, until every inch is inside you and you’re a crying, moaning, whining, pathetic mess. Rafe groans and both his hands fly to your hips, stabilizing himself as he feels the tightness of you suffocate his cock, his skin on fire and his body buzzing in pleasure. “Fuck, I’m not gonna last-“ he grits through his teeth as he pulls out slowly and pushes back in harder. Your fingers tread down to toy with your clit and that image alone gets rafe to blow his load. Gasping and moaning as he fully lets his cum explode inside you, filling you to the brim so much that it starts dripping out with his cock still fully inside you. “Shit, fuck” is all he can say as his sweaty body leans over your trembling one. He reaches over and pulls the thong out of your mouth.

You take a minutes to let your legs get there feeling back before you turn around, smirking at him and looking down where is cock is still semi-hard. Your fingers reach for it and he winces, but throws his head back in pleasure. He snaps his head forward and looks down when he feels the warmth and wetness of your mouth. Your eyes looking up at him as you gag and moan all over his cock. His heart flutters and he knows it’s fucked up, but shit, he might have fallen in love with you just from that. It doesn’t take long for him to shoot spurts of warmth down your throat, because the way your mouth feels and the way you look up at him makes him lose his mind. You suck off with a pop and press a small kiss to his tip which makes him shudder, you stand and pull your dress down, looking at him again and smiling. “Maybe tonight I can have you begging in my bed?” You giggle at his expression, his eyes wide and his mouth hung open as you simply pick up your underwear and stuff them into his pocket, walking out of the washroom and hoping to see him later tonight.

Taglist

@f4ll-for-you @rafeysworldim19 @baby19sthings @sevenwivesofrafecameron @rxfecameronsslut @findapenny @r1vrsefx @spencerreidsrealgf @rafescokenostril @thievin-stealing @rafemotherfuckingcameron @dilvcv @starkeysheart @wearemadeofstardust0 @theoraekenslover @mema10

[trashogram]

He Chose You (Pt. 9)

Lucifer/Reader: Lucifer chooses you to be the mother of his child. Rated Explicit.

Warning: Character Death, and minor details of childbirth.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 13.5 | Part 14 | End

“You’re glowing!”

You’d scoffed while watching as your body literally began to illuminate from the inside out.

“Well of course.” You’d snickered, looking from your hands to Lucifer. “Every mother does.” 

Your hand came up to clasp your mouth shut, but the Freudian slip was already out there. Lucifer stared at you and you stared back. 

Your lips wobbled and torso trembled until you could no longer hold it in and burst into laughter. Elation ran its course, and Lucifer joined you — laughing so hard that he slapped his knee. 

When you fell into his arms and let yourself be held, you imagined it would only be for a little while. This bizarro pregnancy had you on some kind of high, and all the worries and doubts that had been building up disappeared. 

—

You can’t remember for how long you’ve been walking but there’s discomfort in the soles of your feet. The landscape changes as soon as you truly behold it. 

The endless field of tall grass and the trees so tall they could touch the sky had been replaced by golden sand. You could feel its gentle heat on the ends of your toes. Beyond the sand is a gently rolling ocean, lilac beneath a honey gold sky as the sun has only just set. The sound of rhythmic, rushing water is so real and so close that you’re immediately calm. 

Memories flood your mind like a sneaker wave. You’re a child again, running away from the water as it laps at you. The shock of the cold water goes away quickly and you want to follow the pebbles and seashells that drift back out with the retreating tide. 

You look back, away from the sea, and see the blonde woman behind you. You grin. 

She’s wistful. 

It stamps down on your joy. The air is salty and wet blowing through your hair and inhaled through your nostrils. You want to speak, but you can’t think of a thing to say. 

“I wish this was goodbye.” Her voice carries above the waves, muffling them until they’re nothing but a dull roar. 

—

You awoke to the sensation of falling and seized in your bed. Lucifer startled beside you. He’d been sleeping wrapped around your belly; a compromise to laying perpendicular to you so that he could continue talking to the soccer-player in your stomach. 

He or she had not stopped moving since they decided to make it known that they were, in fact, not dead.

(You’d chided the baby for that, and for doubling in size in less than two week’s time, much to Lou’s amazement:

“Hell isn’t ready to be ruled by two speed demons.” You’d deadpanned.)

“Huh?” He grabbed you without thought. “What—”

Movement erupted from deep down in your core, muscles clenching and unclenching quickly, forcing you to seize again. 

“I think I’m — ugh!” You gritted your teeth. “—I’m going into labor.” 

Lucifer doesn’t do anything for a long moment. 

Then he flew into a panic before you could say ‘Jesus Christ!’. 

—

The hallway outside illuminated with the sheer brilliance of your body, literally glowing. It hadn’t stopped since it started, only a few weeks ago. Fortunately, the glow was tied to an almost paralyzing euphoria. It was the kind of delight that turned your blood into gold while racing through your body. The kind that kept you from complaining that you’d become Tinkerbell.  

“Steady. I’ve got you!” Lucifer assured whilst trudging over the carpet with you in his arms. 

An influx of pain rippled through you for the first time, providing distraction from the mortification you might’ve felt in that position. It hasn’t escaped your notice that the Prince of Darkness was a shortstack. Your brain had a hard time accepting that for as small as he appeared, Lucifer was capable of unimaginable feats of strength and endurance. 

So, you didn’t think about it. Instead you focused on breathing in and out deeply as your partner kicked at the front door of your neighbors’ apartment with the toe of his boot. 

As if waiting at the door, Warren Farrow appeared from behind the polished wood. His expression was of minute surprise, but within seconds he was turning back and calling for his wife.

Lucifer managed to pivot the two of you into the Farrow home. Warren guided you with an unusual vigor in his step, as though he were a man decades younger. 

“We’ve had it set up for weeks now, Sir.” Warren said gravely. 

Through the convulsions, you observed the inlet that Lucifer had taken you into. It was like a roomy closet, covered in tapestries and littered with candles of all shapes and colors. 

Warren’s wife was flitting about, quickly lighting the pitch-black surroundings until you could see the mere outline of things. 

You were drawn to the center of the crowded room, where a humble white cot covered in white towels contrasted everything else.

It occurred to you then that this entire pregnancy had been a shit show, not the least bit because you’d never gone to any OB. You hadn’t checked in with any hospital, or stepped foot in one — how could you? 

Therefore, any  and all “check-ups” you’d had had come from your creepy neighbors with their tea and their scrutinizing questions and their buzzard-like stares.

You’d consoled yourself throughout with the brief, semi-serious talk with Mrs. Farrow three months into gestation.

“What? Were you a midwife or something?” You asked incredulously. 

“Yes, honey.” Cass had patted your hand like you were a simpleton. “I helped deliver babies for over 15 years. I was younger than you were when I first started!” 

You had stared. ‘Oh god, how many crazy cultists are actually nurses in disguise?’

“Here we go, all set. You can lay her down here.” Cassie came over brusquely, smoothing over the wrinkles in the cot before Lucifer put you down. 

He laid you on the sheets, light as a feather, jarring as you felt your belly weigh you down. The King didn’t go far, reluctant to let go of your hand. You held on like a vice as well, gripping and squeezing with each contraction. 

You felt pinches in and around your abdomen, but the pain was… off. It came not from true agony, but the overworking of your internal organs in contrast to the pleasantness that you embodied post-glow stick phase. 

Hearing childbirth horror stories all your life, and just the horrors of raising children in general, you expected to be screaming and thrashing. 

This wasn’t as bad as some of your past periods had been. What’s worse than that, however, is the unnecessary guilt you feel for how troublesome it isn’t. 

—

Lucifer struggled to remain in one spot as the urge to pace up and down the cramped little birthing room ate at him. 

He didn’t want to leave you — not that his two hosts would dare make him, regardless of tradition — but old habits die hard. He was fidgeting, putting all his weight on one foot then the other. 

You were his exact opposite, laying placid and relaxed on the birthing bed, eyeing the little room. Microexpressions flitted across your face, some of confusion and some of hurt, but aside from your firm grasp on his hand, and the occasional grunt, you may as well have been dozing off. 

Eventually you glanced at him. 

“Do you wanna sit down?” You asked calmly. 

Lucifer tried to laugh but it came out like a strangled wheeze. “Nahhh, this is fine. I’m fine. Are you fine? I mean I know you’re not fine, but can I do something? Whatever you need, I can get it for you!” 

His rambling ends with you bopping him between the eyes teasingly. “You’re silly.” 

It’s inexplicable, but Lucifer’s mood lightened at your mellow admonishment. He meets your warm, drowsy expression with an adoring smile of his own. 

“I am.” He kissed your forehead. “You’re an angel to put up with it.” 

A too-loud rasp interrupted the soft moment of nothing but affection and kisses. Cass was standing at the foot of your cot, hands on each of your knees as she kept your legs apart. 

“Get ready, honey. You’re on your way.” She hailed. 

–

A cry split through the air and it went straight to your heart. 

You gulp down air (Lucifer mimicking you without meaning to) with sweat pouring from your hairline. The lack of pain hadn’t meant a lack of effort, and you still felt like you’d run a marathon just to pass the little being currently wailing in Mrs. Farrow’s arms. 

“It’s a girl.” Mrs. Farrow declared.

There was no attempt to hide the sidelong glance she gave Mr. Farrow. The lines and grooves on the elderly man’s face deepened until he resembled a gnarled tree trunk.

“Hmm.” Was his reply, deep baritone rolling like thunder in the tiny room. 

Vehement indignance blazed to life inside your mind when the old man looked at you, critical and disappointed. You felt like tearing him and the rest of this old, tacky room to shreds. Yet, exhaustion had planted its roots deep inside of you, and all you could do was glare at the old couple from your makeshift bed. 

‘Why does it fucking matter?’

“Gimme my kid.” You growled.

As if to piss you off further, Cass ignored you in favor of wiping the baby clean before passing her off to Lucifer. The old bat presented her to the King like she was a fallen bannerman’s sword, even curtsying while doing it. 

It was so weird that it brought you out of your anger for a second. 

Lucifer was clearly apprehensive, and his insecurity made the grand gesture stranger. He swallowed visibly, making eye contact with you when he couldn’t break away from the internal turmoil he was struggling with. 

“Bring her to me.” You demanded. Lucifer nodded vigorously, cocking a head toward you. 

It was fucking nonsensical, but at last Cass obeyed and brought you a bundle wrapped in silky black. 

The baby’s wailing tapered off as soon as she’d made contact with you. And like a child on Christmas morning, you shifted to sit up as much as you could and pry open the swaddling cloth. 

You sniffled. 

All at once, the breath caught in your throat and your eyes welled up with tears.

The newborn was as flagrant as her father in terms of skin tone and hair. She hadn’t yet opened her eyes but already you could see none other than a spitting image of Lucifer himself. Right down to the rosy apple cheeks that made up her pudgy little face. 

You were a little surprised to see that she had a nose. A little black smudge, puppy-like - anomalous like the little growths on her forehead and the itty bitty spade on the tip of her wagging tail. 

She was perfect. 

“I think she’s a Charlotte.” You manage to tear your eyes away from the miraculous hellspawn in your arms just long enough to search Lucifer’s golden gaze. “What do you think?” 

His Majesty is a whimpering mess beside you. “Y-yeah. That’s perfect.” 

Peeling the blanket back just that much more, you lean toward him. It takes a little coaxing, but sure enough Lucifer traces a delicate claw over the child’s tiny brow. 

“Hello Charlotte.” He whispered. “We’re so happy you’re here.” 

Adoration overwhelmed you, nigh on visible like the air was tinged with its color, its scent, its warmth cocooning the three of you. 

Daddy, Mommy and baby. A strange but happy little family. 

Lou embraced the two of you, hiding his face, and subsequent weeping, in the side of your neck while your baby cooed. 

The background chants of ‘Hail Princess Charlotte’ and ‘Hail King Lucifer’ were, thankfully, not enough to ruin the moment. 

Nothing could. Until. 

It doesn’t dawn on you that anything is wrong when the glow has faded. It’s only the incidental look at your fingers, with Charlotte’s tail curled around them, that freezes you. Numbness then began to crawl up your body, as if waiting for the moment that you’re brain would connect the dots. The copper scent of blood made your nostrils flare and heart hammer.

Fear clutched at you in an instant. “Take her. Take the baby.” 

Your desperate hiss and barely-there shuffle to push Charlotte into Lucifer’s arms fully had his face falling. 

“W-wai-wh-What’s happening?” He asked, panic rising. 

Mrs. Farrow is prompt, crone’s face scrunched and nose prominent as if she could sniff out the issue. She’s stood at the end of the bed, already lifting the sheets off your body before you can seek her out. 

A stiff hand appears over the covers, covered in shiny dark claret. “She’s bleedin’ too much.” 

Lucifer’s eyes blazed from where he hovered. “Why?”

The elderly woman was ready to shrug, but she stalled. Perhaps out of fear. “It happens, your Grace. Birthing a baby takes a toll on the mother, sometimes it’s too much.”

“Then why are you just standing there?”Lucifer bared his fangs, ivory in the lowlight. His eyes were a haze of vermillion, so opaque that you couldn’t find his pupils or the soul inside. “Help her!” 

The truly demonic scrape of his vocal chords frightened you, as did the sudden appearance of tusk-like horns protruding from his skull and the fire coming to life between them. His beautiful skin marred and stretched and cracked as if his form were a prison barely containing the true beast within. 

Energy crackled in the air, heat rising to blow back your hair and dry the air from your lungs like a flung-open kiln. The breath was stolen from your lungs as ivory wings shot out and overtook what little space was left in the alcove. 

Reality was literally distorting around Lucifer’s warped rage. 

Mr. Farrow, for all his reticence, reached for his wife’s shoulder from within your line of sight. 

“Lucifer.” You hissed, bearing the brunt of his inhuman stare when he turned to you. It took real energy to speak. “I need you… the baby…”

It didn’t take anymore prodding for the blond to intercept your daughter once your desperation got through to him. The Devil slowly shifted back, revealing the depth of his fear in the cloudless turn of his gaze. He met you halfway - finally - and pulled Charlotte close to his chest.

A pang of thankfulness made laughter bubble up from your diaphragm. It hurt. Everything hurt again.

“Stop. Wait.” Lucifer begged, voice turned to ice. Fragile, cracking. His natural white glow had dimmed significantly like a cooling star. “This isn’t— I promised you this wouldn’t happen! This can’t happen!”

A shudder ran through you. 

“Hey.” You lifted a hand and placed it on his pale cheek, thumb brushing over where white met red. “Nothing… for it now.” 

“No, don’t, that’s… No.” His agony was so palpable, as his fury had been. 

“You’re gonna be a great dad.” You murmured. 

Lucifer bowed over the side of the bed with Charlotte snug against him. You could feel the warmth of his breath, and then the splash of his tears against your cheek as he broke down. You felt it deep in your bones, and the lump in your throat that choked you. 

“Not without you.” He said. “I can’t do this without you.”

A pained smile was your response. Vision a-blur. Cotton tongue.  

“You… will.”

Lucifer shook his head fiercely. “I promised you. I swore I wouldn’t let anything happen to you. I can’t… I can’t...” 

“Please. Please don’t — ” Anguish turned Lucifer’s once melodic voice into broken notes. “Don’t leave us. Please, please, please.” 

His sobs intermingled with Charlotte’s whimpering. She fussed as she was woken from her doze by the growing, tangible urgency. You wished you could calm both of them. Take them in your arms and make it all go away, promise that you weren’t going anywhere. 

“Please. Please. Please.” The word fell from the Devil’s mouth like a prayer. 

You wondered if he really was praying. Praying to his Father. 

It broke your heart. 

The candlelight around you was getting brighter as the rest of your surroundings grew dark. Lucifer, as brilliant as he was, lingered somewhere in between. You squinted when his features began to fuse together in your mind. It did little to help, as large, dark shadows blotted out the corners of your sight. 

Charlotte was bawling and you fought to open your eyes again. You hadn’t realized they’d closed. 

You were so tired. The will to rise up and comfort your baby was dwindling. Everything had succumbed to a thin stream of light in a sea of darkness. 

With a breath, and another Herculean effort, you opened your eyes again. 

White blinded you. 

And then you were nothing.

***

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[amelee23]

Natural | Lee Minho

Genre: FLUFFFFFF fluff fluff, romance

Pairing: Lee know x gender neutral reader

Word count: 3k

Warnings: going on a forest vacay to escape society, SUPER sappy cheesy stuff, SOFT, walks at 6 am, kisses and hugs and everything nice, a chokehold as a joke, humour, metaphors galore, he's cat dad, reader gets called kitten once, I love lino very much, promises for the future 🤭

Summary: You and Minho go on a vacation to a forest cabin. As he wakes you up at 6 am for a walk, you can't help but get sappy and admire him alongside the landscape. Your love for him makes Minho say something that might change your perspective of the future.

You were gently shaken awake a little too early for comfort. First thing you felt was the heft of your eyelids and a subtle throbbing in your forehead; but the first thing you remembered, though, was the way you have probably fallen asleep having extremely soft conversations with your lover, about how far the both of you have come, the things you've accomplished, how proud you feel of each other and also of your friends who you grew up with.

"The sun's not even awake yet." You grumble to him, and he gives you a silly smile.

"But I am!" You can't help but snort, still pushing your nose further into the pillows. You didn't want to get out of bed, really. "C'mon, get up. Go on a walk with me."

"At this hour? Ugh, you're so random sometimes." You say, grumbling, but you start moving out of the bed.

It probably wasn't random at all. If you were to make a guess, it was probably premeditated and he had some sort of intention for taking a walk in the woods at 6 in the morning.

Well, he hoped it would be 6 in the morning but your drowsiness didn't allow for it. He had to be patient, make you coffee and a light breakfast, or else you'd turn blue like the cookie monster and eat him alive without food and caffeine in your system.

You looked out the window as the two of you were silently enjoying breakfast. It was such a beautiful sight, and if you just allowed it, the cherry chirp of the birds in the morning was enough to block the demons inside your head.

Although he had woken you up at ungodly hours, this was the vacation you both dreamt of. You rented out a cabin in the forest, and it was, for once, just you and him. The last people you've seen were in a different cabin 10 minutes down the road, and the center rental establishment that had groceries and necessities was 20 minutes away. Of course, it could prove to be a pain in the ass if you didn't prepare well, but you made sure you had everything you needed - so that you could truly disconnect from the world and let yourselves be swallowed up by nature.

You should have guessed Minho was always planning to go on this walk, considering how serious he seemed about it. While you were eating and trying to awaken your brain cells, he got dressed in a cozy shirt, loose pants and a backwards cap and he was already arranging a small backpack with water bottles and his Polaroid camera. He went as far as packing an external phone battery, too. Then he sat down next to you and waited.

You've gotten to know his array of expressions so well, you thought. He was looking at you, and to an outsider his expression would tell them close to nothing. But no, his expression looked gentle, kind, patient, impatient, exasperated and excited all at once. You could see how eager he was to move, almost as if his body was half-way already bolting out the door. Still, he was trying to maintain his calm, since there was no point to the outside views that awaited him if you weren't seeing them with him.

Your eyes met as you were admiring him, and almost like a kitten pawing for attention, he gently pulled at the sleeve of your pyjama shirt.

You were so in love with him, it wasn't even funny.

He began your little nature adventure by holding your hand and guiding you to the forest path, but as soon as you could hear the crunch of pebbles and branches under your feet, Minho was gone. He walked far ahead of you, as if he was caught in a trance. It was so weird, because in reality all you could see was his slumped back, his sluggish figure trudging through the forest, but in your mind he was running, he was twirling, he was opening his arms large to welcome the sun into an embrace. If only he would let the freedom that guides his soul be seen, without the fear of being judged or the weight of society pressing down on him.

You weren't mad he left you behind. In fact, you were having a blast just watching him: trip over a rock when he was too occupied looking at the height of the pine trees, taking pictures with his phone of every and any flower he deemed pretty or interesting, whispering "squirrel" and "hello little buddy" whenever he saw a critter.

He would turn around and look at you once in a while to reassure himself you're there and that you're safe. (And weren't stolen by some forest goblin.) Whenever he'd make a pit stop to take pictures you'd catch up with him and he'd ask you if you're okay, if you're bored or if you want him to slow down his pace. You'd tell him no, you'd tell him he's so endearing being in his natural element. And he'd smile, but it wouldn't be the kind of smile that shows a collection of pearly whites or spreads from one ear to the other. Not even his bunny teeth would show; it would be a closed-lipped, subtle smile, that you found was the most meaningful of them all when it came to Minho. It was the smile of "I feel content", it was the smile of "I feel at peace". Put in simple words, it was the smile of "I'm happy." His happiness was quiet, that was what you observed. And this smile, the truest of them all, showed in various situations: when he was taking walks in nature, when he was preparing a meal, when he was playing with his feline babies, and when he was spending time with you. You were part of his silent happiness, and you were perhaps, one of the only ones who knew what it meant.

And understanding one's personality, one's inner workings is not exactly an easy feat. Just how it took millennia for humanity to understand the laws of the universe, Minho thought it would take decades for someone to understand him. That is, if someone ever did.

But when you arrived, it was as if you were an enforcer fighting for the preservation of nature. A flower is most beautiful when it is on the field that it belongs to, rather than being plucked and put into a bouquet, forced to look beautiful for someone else. You preserved the flower where it was. You didn't uproot it. You gave him water, nourishment and talked to him in such a loving manner, that now he blooms so beautifully.

He's become much more beautiful than a human being should ever be.

Minho stopped one more time to take a picture of the path, and the shadows the trees were casting on the ground. A ray of light sneakily made its way through them, casting itself on a ladybug that was climbing up the tree bark. Minho took a picture of the ladybug, then turned towards the stray light and offered his hand to it. He played with the light between his fingers, let it roll along his palm, and then he put his hand down. He looked up, towards the sky, more golden strands of the sun dancing along his face, and he took a deep breath. When he exhaled, his chest looked lighter, and he seemed to begin to shine, a light sparkle dusting the skin of his arms, as if he was really becoming one with the sun.

He was breathtaking.

Having finally caught up with him, your arms circled his waist and you embraced him tightly, cheek smushing into his shoulder blades. It was an urge, an instinct, to do so.

He seemed a little startled, but he didn't complain. He patted your hands gently and then he took a picture of your hands woven so tightly around his torso, without catching his or your face in the picture. You knew that because it became his lockscreen after that day.

As softly as he could muster, as if to not scare you off, Minho held your hand and spun around to face you, his eyes sparkly and curious.

"Everything okay?"

"Mhm." You respond, holding him by the waist as if to show you didn't want him going anywhere. Minho loved the warmth that enveloped him. "You just looked so natural, so genuine." You smile at him, and he instantly knows by your grin you were having a poetic, sappy moment. "You always look like you belong right in nature. Had to touch you to make sure you're real." You emphasize your words by squeezing a little bit at his hips and the skin above his ribs, and he lets out a cat-like yelp that makes you giggle.

You become an entanglement of limbs when Minho decides to cup both sides of your face as you're holding him. Your face slightly mushed together, he angles your eyes to look into his, and none of you would win the competition of who's more enamoured than the other.

"Sometimes I really can't help but wonder... what are those pretty eyes of yours seeing when you look at me?" He asks in the softest way possible, and you're suddenly caught in a trance. His eyes pull you closer, his skin continues to sparkle, and a gentle warm breeze seems to circle the two of you.

"Magic." You answer, promptly, with certainty, still bewitched by the portrait of him among the trees. He lets out a puff of hair as he chuckles, but he doesn't mock you. He caressed your face with his thumb and you too feel warm.

"Magic?"

"It's like the magic of nature is coursing through you..." You begin to rant, but figure out finding the right words is quite a challenge. But Minho was patient. "It's hard to explain. It's like you're out of this world ... and yet the most human I've ever seen someone be... The most natural." Minho has heard this song and dance before. Countless of times you've called him a forest fairy, a fae, a nymph...but to him the most fascinating part of it was how you were able to tell. You could see where he belonged, where he shone the brightest. You allowed him to realize when he was happy and not be scared of that happiness; therefore, there was only one thought forming at the back of his mind. A thought, that was of course, completely random and not something he's thought about hundreds of times before while you were sound asleep.

"Marry me." He blurts out, and you blink at him, awaiting a grin, a laugh, a smirk, a signal of a joke. But there was none. He was solemn and focused as he watched the slight panic in your gaze.

"Do you really mean it?"

"Yes. I mean, not now. Someday." He answers in a split of a second. But then, he backs out as if burnt. Maybe, just maybe, he let his impulses get the better of him. "Why, do you not feel the same? It's okay, you can tell me if I'm being too pushy-" He's panicking, and panic doesn't fit his handsome features. So you grab him by the shoulders and kiss him with passion.

Kissing Minho was addicting.

"You're the first person I've ever liked kissing this much." You confess to him after you break apart. Then, you wrap your arms around him yet again and rest your head on his chest, your ear prying in to listen to the alarmed pace of his heart. You squeeze him tight, so very tight, almost like he was a teddy bear. "The first person I've liked holding so much." His heart continued to drum, for he was confused about what you were saying. Was he getting an answer to his question or was this your subtle way of switching the subject, saying that you weren't ready yet? Minho tries to calm down in order to focus on what you were saying. "The only one for which romance made sense." You begin to explain, your cheek still tightly pressed into his chest. You're calm and you speak in what is almost a whisper. "Feelings aren't supposed to be logical, I know, but... being with you is. It's logical... it just makes sense, being in love with you. I can never blame myself for it, never hold myself accountable. Because falling in love with you ...came to me as naturally as breathing; like it was always part of my DNA."

There is a nature in all of us. Cells, stardust, but mostimportantly, love. To love is human nature, fact discovered ever since medieval times. Whether you loved God like Dante, or loved humans like Boccaccio, it is destined for all of us to love.

"Because I'm nature...?"

He was human, he was nature, and towards him you felt only that which is most natural.

"Because you're nature. And I love nature." You pull back to look at him and are startled to see the ocean of his eyes, the reflection of stars in the sea. He was trying not to cry, and looking at you with the fondness of a thousand families.

"Nature loves you too, kitten." Once more he holds your face close, but this time around he leans down to kiss you on the forehead. It is a long kiss. It is a warm kiss. It is a meaningful kiss. "The whole world does. And I do even more." Words like these touched chords inside your heart you didn't even know could be touched. Minho always told you so, that you weren't just worthy of his love, but the love of every single person on this planet.

"Yeah, I bet the world loves me if they gave me you." You say, and Minho thinks you are joking. You weren't, but there was perhaps a limit of how sappy a moment can be until it gets truly too much.

"Ew." He jokes back, scrunching his nose to fake disgust. A grin appears on his face, which you mimic.

And that's all you do for a while. Like a movie panorama, you stay there to look at each other. The clouds, the trees, something must have moved with the wind since the sun starts to line both of your faces. One of your eyes starts to squint because of the light, and suddenly it hits you.

"So, are we married now? Where's my ring?"

Minho didn't expect that, and there were a number of reasons why you were sure of it; one, because he starts to blabber and two, because his ears turned red.

"Well, I uh, I uh, don't- I said someday... Not this exact moment! Uhm...Hold on." It's a good thing Minho was a boy scout when he was young, although he would have never thought his skills would come in handy in a situation like this.

You're confused about what he was planning, but you let him do his thing. He squats down next to a group of small, white flowers and plucks them out from the ground in such a manner that their stems remain very long. Then, he picks a strand of grass and takes your hand in his to measure your finger with it. After he has your measurements, he begins to wrap the flower stems around the grass strand with such craftsmanship, almost as if it hasn't been 15 years since he last made a ring out of flowers.

When he is done, he gingerly slides it up your ring finger and he's proud like a child. The ring is cute, tiny and light, and it tickles your finger softly. It's not gold or diamonds, but it is a promise, and it is so much more natural than forged metals and stolen minerals. So much more Minho.

"There you go." He beams proudly. Truth be told, he is flabbergasted he managed to make the ring actually hold without falling apart. "Now we share all of our assets and you are legally obligated to feed my cats when I'm not at home and clean out their litters." He speaks matter of factly, and you slap him on the chest.

"You only want me so I can do your chores! Tsk, I think our marriage is already falling apart." You joke, pretending to turn around and pout. Minho finds you hilarious, especially as he envelops you from the back and holds you in a pretend chokehold.

"The only thing falling apart is gonna be my wallet when I buy you that ring." You don't know if it's the light of the sun or you're blushing, but your face grows hot. Getting married was, of course, the natural order of progressing things in a relationship. But a part of you has always wondered if you are someone to deem worthy of marriage; if that's something that would ever happen to you. Now that such reality was approaching, it did really feel like magic.

Minho released you from the tight hold and decided to walk with your hand in his instead. He was looking at your finger, at the hand-made flower ring, and his quiet, peaceful smile came back to his face.

"I promise I'll get you a real ring soon. You'll have it on your finger by the time we come here again." He speaks softly, in a murmur, but you hear him. You stay quiet, but he sees you nod. You acknowledge his promise, and a completely harmless anxiety mixes in with the excitement that comes with thinking of that day.

"Does that mean we're not gonna have a vacation here for the next 5 years?" Minho rolls his eyes at your question, and the sappiness finally seems to come to an end; you're back to your lighthearted vacation.

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

"Or perhaps I'll make you live in the wild with me for the next five years. If we never leave we can't come back." He wiggles his eyebrows at you, gives you his trademark serial killer look, and there was never a moment when you've loved him more. Never a moment when you've loved him more naturally.

.

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[diorchids]

where ya headed?

simon 'ghost' riley.

cw: simon is southern in this. (walk with me...) age gap, country + southern!simon, unwanted touching, pervert!simon, slight manipulation, oral, penetration, choking.

you shivered in the cold, keeping your head low and your arms crossed as the cold breeze made you practically freeze completely. your bag was almost empty, left with nothing but a lighter and a few loose cigarettes. how lucky you were.

you walk and walk, ignoring any sounds in the woods you wouldn’t recognize in the darkness. as you walk on the sides of the road, the sound of a motor engine nears you, but you continue walking. 

the sounds came from a beat-up pickup truck behind you, low hums of tunes along with it. you turn your head slightly toward it, still unphased from the hissing of the engine. the car seemed to move at the same pace as you, failing to speed up. the red truck ran beside you with a man in the front. he sat with an arm on a seat next to him

plaid button-up, handlebar mustache, blue jeans--he had the whole get up.

he obviously wanted your attention, honking the car horn before rolling down the window. he gave you a once over before speaking, “hey there, you look like you could use a ride. where ya headed, sweetheart?” you ignored any thoughts reminding you of those men. the rapists, murderers, kidnappers, the bad men. 

you hesitantly walked to his window and rested your arms on them, shrugging as you stood. “i’m headed to the motel ‘bout an hour or so away, sir.” he could tell you were cold, your soft sniffles and sneezes giving him a hint. 

he nods and gestures to the passenger seat, “way too cold to be out here, ‘specially at this time of night. hop in, i’m actually headin’ that way myself.” those thoughts plagued your brain again as you ignored them again. you open the door and sat. as you settle in, he turns up the heat and glances over at you. “name’s simon, simon riley. i live in the cabin just up north.” you introduce yourself to him, making it known you’re not versed on the state.

he nods and controls the wheel, “pleasure to meet you, sweetheart. what brings you to these parts?” you straighten your back and tell him where you’re from, about 3 states over, trying to get back to a friend who’s at the motel.

“i’m glad i could help you out. not safe ‘round here for a young lady like you to be wanderin’, considerin’ the weather, i doubt you would’ve made it a mile,” he pauses, “you’re a pretty little thing.

you stutter and mutter out a thank you to him, a warm feeling spreading over your face quickly. this isn’t that, though. this man’s old enough to be your father, he’s just a stranger helping a girl. he notices your expression and interjects. he leans over to you, making you feel uncomfortable as he speaks lowly. “hope you don’t mind my saying so. not many young ones like you out here,”

you nodded and stayed silent before a warm hand planted on your thigh, squeezing with a grunt. “it’s refreshing.”

you try and change the subject “the motel’s a way out, sir--simon. i don’t have the money now, but when i get back home, i could mail you money, really.” you stuttered, trying not to notice his hand perversely trailing up your leg.

“ain't no need for that. think of it as a favor. you could--" his fingers inched closer to your core, “do me one, how’s that sound? a favor for a favor.”

you sat and thought about it. this man’s doing you a huge favor with this, you felt obligated. “okay. a favor.” 

he got you out of the car, calling you over to his side before groping your body disgustingly. you couldn’t say no, this was the favor. “bet you wanted this, didn’t you?” he squeezes your plush ass, grinning as you stood, helpless. his hands continue to wander and grope at your body, ignoring any protests as he gets incredibly handsy.

he rubs his bulge up against you before you touch it, your fingers curving over it. he coaxes you onto your knees on the gravelly road, small pebbles pushing into them. 

you eyed his huge bulge, watching as he unbuckled his belt, planting a hand into your hair as he instructed you to pull his boxers down. “it’s really big, sir,” you whispered, a smile spreading on his face. "go ahead, sweetheart, it won't bite."

you obey, hooking fingers onto his waistband before tugging and taking him into your mouth, gagging on his girthy length pathetically. 

you sat with his cock in your throat for some time before starting to bob your head, hair moving in the cold wind as you tried your hardest not to gag again. your hand wrapped around the base of his fat cock, stroking and squeezing while your warm mouth sucks him off. he grips your hair even tighter when you slide your tongue up a vein, bucking his hips deeper into you. 

“doin’ perfect, baby girl, look at you go,” he groaned, praising the way you squeezed and sucked him like a pro. your hand cupped his heavy balls before they just slapped your chin repeatedly. cars rode past, a couple catching a glimpse of you on your knees, but simon didn’t care.

your mouth, so hot, so delicate, was the only thing keeping him warm in this weather. you were so busy, that you’d practically forgotten you were cold. 

he ended up fucking your throat, making you keep your hands away from your mouth as he used you for his pleasure. you fondled his balls and sucked prettily, batting your lashes while you looked at him with desperation.

his cock twitched in your throat before he thrusts a few more times, causing you to gag uncontrollably.

he was disgusting. 

warm cum spilled from his pent-up cock right down your throat as you swallowed and cleaned up the spend with your fingers, sucking his hot load off your fingers. it was a sight to see, your sultry gaze on his body as you caught your breath. 

you looked up at him, still on your knees, sure to bruise by morning, before he helped you to your feet. he wasted no time to touch you again, but now his slick cock rubbed up against you when he groped you, pinching your nipples and sniffing you. a pervert.

your ass was pushed up against his, still leaking, cock, he groaned out how much he loves your body. your company--your readiness. 

“walkin’ around like that--no business doin’ that ‘round here,” his fingers hook onto your skirt, “barely got anything on.”

he decides to pull down your skirt, revealing your panties with small prints of cherries. “i wanna feel your lil’ pussy around me, need that badly.”

you nod, facing away but your eagerness is still obvious. his thick fingers run over your ass before stopping at the wet spot on your panties. they rub your already swollen clit as you push into his touch, not noticing the cars still riding past, people eyeing this disgusting view. simon pushes his fingers into your underwear, sliding his middle finger over your slit lovingly.

he pulls your panties down hungrily before rubbing his cock against your holes, gripping your hips as he speaks, “fuck, sweetheart,” before his thick tip prods at your tight entrance, forcing it inside as your legs tremble and your grip on the seats tighten. 

your eyes prickle with tears as he forces most of himself in, filling you to the brim as he attempts to thrust, only moving in and out an inch at a time. you grip the seats as he settles into you, but he goes slow for you, knowing it’s too big, knowing he’s stretching you out too much. you cry out, begging for him to go slow, but to get it over with. 

“i know, baby girl, shh, shh, it’s gon’ be over soon. just take it all.” and you did, pushing your ass up against him, making sure to do as he says and take it. 

you sucked him in perfectly, eyes rolling back, back arching uncontrollably as his cock dug through your walls. his red tip bullied your cervix, almost touching it each time he thrust deeper. his hands stayed rested on your hips as he fucked you harder. “grippin’ me like a fuckin’ vice, ain’t ya?” spit fell from his lips onto your ass before sliding down to your hole, serving as a lubricant for his oversized cock. 

his hung cock barely slipped in and out of you, tight hole failing to stretch enough. as you spoke disgusting words. begging him for the worst, to go harder, to make it hurt. talking about how badly you loved his cock, showing how fucked out and dumb his dick made you. 

a big hand wrapped around your neck, thick fingers bruising you, proof of your encounter.

you couldn’t take it anymore, your tummy feeling warm and a tingly feeling in your cunt made you weak as you tried your best to fight it. you couldn’t hold off, though, giving in to him as you cried out and gushed on his cock. your cunt constricted around him as you came. his grip on your neck tightened as you came on his cock, a milky white circle forming at the base of it. 

a car drove past, seeing you bent over with the low, yellow lights of the pickup truck shining on your figure. seeing him behind you, pants down to his ankles, your skirt down to yours. 

you groaned loudly as he continued fucking your soaked hole, juices dripping. his balls feel heavier, ready to let go. 

“take it--take it all,” he thrusts a few more times before releasing his load into your hole, potent cum sure to get you pregnant. “puttin’ my kids in you.” as his last spurts fill you. 

his cum seeps out of you as your legs tremble. “there we go. there we go, knew you could take it.” 

he helps you fix yourself up before delivering a slap to your ass and hopping in the car. he drove you to the motel and handed you a napkin to write your number down for him. 

“well, don’t let me take up your whole night. i’m sure so-and-so’s wonderin’ where yer at.” you kissed him on the cheek before he left. 

it must’ve been the southern drawl. 

[solxamber]

Can i please request a reader/yuu x rollo where rollo is either visiting or like that popular hc comes to stay and live in ramshackle and over hears reader admitting they have a huge crush on him? Grimm is out here like human. Why. And reader is like he's respectful, he's curious about my world he's the only guy who was ever actually concerned about me, and rollo is like wow the bar is in HELL but I'll blow their mind fr.

Ty!!

Rollo Flamme x reader

Rollo my beloved!!! Thank you for the request <3

Rollo hadn’t planned to spy, but the creaky, haunted vibe of Ramshackle Dorm seemed to have a mind of its own, and before he knew it, he found himself standing outside the door, frozen in place by the sound of your voice.

“Grim, I’m telling you. He’s perfect.”

There was a pause. Grim’s voice cut through the quiet, pure disbelief oozing from his every word. “Henchman. Why. Why him?”

You sighed, like this was the fiftieth time you’d had this conversation, and honestly? It probably was. “He’s respectful, Grim. He’s curious about my world, he’s smart, and—wait for it—he’s the only guy here who has ever been actually concerned about me.”

Rollo blinked. Wait. Was this about him? Surely not—he, the paragon of discipline and order, the man who sought to rid the world of dangerous magic, couldn’t possibly have inspired such devotion. Could he?

Grim made an audible smack sound, probably facepalming in disbelief. “Respectful?! Henchhuman, he hates magic. He tried to murder everyone with flowers! That’s not romantic!”

You groaned. “Okay, but like… he’s intense, yeah, but have you seen the chaos magic causes around here? He’s got a point! And anyway, it’s kinda… hot?”

Grim let out the most exasperated sigh a fire cat can muster. “The bar is in hell, Henchhuman. I mean, the floor. It’s not even a bar anymore; it’s a speed bump. A pebble.”

“Look,” you huffed, “he clears it with room to spare! He listens to me, Grim! He doesn’t call me weird for being from another world. He’s… thoughtful. And he’s got a great voice. And! He didn’t try to blow me up, unlike some people here.”

Rollo’s eyebrows shot up. They really were talking about him. His mind swirled, caught somewhere between confusion, amusement, and, dare he say it, a spark of pride. You thought he was thoughtful? Respectful? Hot?

Meanwhile, Grim’s brain was clearly on the verge of short-circuiting. “Henchhuman, I can’t—look, what about Leona? At least he doesn’t wanna purge all magic. He just naps!”

You snorted. “Leona? He’s practically allergic to effort. At least Rollo has ambition. He cares about something.”

Rollo, leaning against the side of Ramshackle, ran a hand through his hair. Alright, this was too much. He needed to intervene before you said something even more embarrassing for both of you. He straightened up and knocked lightly on the door.

Inside, Grim screeched, “Oh great, you summoned him with your weird crush energy!”

You jumped, scrambling to look composed as you opened the door, revealing Rollo standing there, an unreadable expression on his face. “R-Rollo! What a… surprise! What are you doing here?”

Rollo blinked, his mind still reeling from everything he’d just overheard. “I… was in the area and thought I would stop by. To see how you were adjusting.”

Grim, squinting with all the suspicion of a small goblin, pointed an accusing paw at you. “Adjusting, my tail. They’re over here writing sonnets about how you’re, like, the best thing since sliced bread.”

Rollo’s lips twitched upward in a smug smirk as he glanced between you and Grim. “Is that so?”

You wanted to dissolve into the floor. “Grim is exaggerating.”

Grim was not having it. “Oh, am I? You said, and I quote, ‘he’s the only guy who’s ever cared about me.’”

Your face burned, and you were about two seconds away from chasing Grim into the wilderness. “Grim.”

Rollo, on the other hand, was practically glowing. “It seems I’ve left quite the impression.” He leaned in slightly, voice low and soft. “But I must say, I had no idea your opinion of me was so… glowing.”

You stared, at a total loss for words, while Grim loudly pretended to gag in the background.

Rollo, emboldened by the chaos (and maybe just a tiny bit flattered by how pathetically low your bar was), took a step closer, his tone growing more teasing. “The bar may be in hell, as your companion said, but I’ll be sure to exceed it. I promise you that.”

You blinked, brain short-circuiting under the intensity of his gaze. “Uh—well—thanks?”

Grim threw his paws in the air. “This is the worst. The actual worst.”

Rollo, amused by Grim’s melodramatics, turned his attention back to you. “If you think this is impressive, just wait. You’ll see what true concern looks like.”

You let out a nervous laugh. “What, like… flowers that won’t try to choke everyone?”

Rollo’s eyes glinted, a teasing smile pulling at his lips. “Exactly. Much more benign this time. Perhaps something to show how… thoughtful I can be.”

You could practically hear Grim’s soul leaving his body as he groaned, dragging a paw down his face. “This is the end. I’m leaving. I’ll be at Heartslabyul.”

As Grim shuffled out in defeat, Rollo gave you one last, knowing smile. “Until next time,” he said smoothly, turning to leave. “And perhaps, next time, you won’t need to admit your feelings through your… furry associate.”

You were pretty sure you blacked out for a solid five seconds, and when you came to, Grim was gone, Rollo was halfway down the path, and you were left with the overwhelming feeling that you’d just set yourself up for a whirlwind of chaos.

But to be honest? You were kind of excited about it.

Masterlist

[twistersobsessed]

hiii it's bracelet anon again with another thought that's been bouncing around in my head:) hopefully it's distinctive enough from my other request since it still revolves around giving scott stuff

i was thinking that scott is really susceptible to holding anything given to him while his attention is elsewhere, like tapping away on the tablet or talking on the phone, and reader picks up on this. so it turns into a little prank amongst the team that they're constantly handing scott things to see how long until he notices. after a while they start to notice that while he usually discards whatever he was given by other team members, he pockets what reader gives to him. so he ends up with a collection of random things reader has found on the side of the road; small bones, pretty pebbles, buttons, little toys that got flung out of car windows, coins, wildflowers, etc.

thank you for listening to my ramblings<3

Like Penguins | Scott x Reader

A/N: Combined two requests.

Javi started it. He handed Scott his sunglasses to hold while he was tying his shoe. Scott took them without even looking up from the tablet he was working on.

It became a little game amongst the rest of the team, one centered around handing Scott random things to see what he’d take without question.

Today was one of those days where you were all playing the game. James handed Scott an empty soda can. It took Scott ten minutes to notice what he was holding and throw it out. Matt handed Scott a rock. It took Scott fifteen minutes to notice and discard it.

Then it was your turn. You’d found a sick coin on the side of the road earlier. You handed it to Scott and like the others, he didn’t even look at you as he took what you were offering.

It took five minutes for Scott to notice what he was holding. He held it up and to everyone’s shock, smiled, just a little bit. Then he tucked the coin into his pocket.

After that, the experiment changed. It turned into everyone urging you to keep handing Scott things. So you did. It was mostly pretty and cool rocks you’d found, but sometimes it was other things like coins or flowers.

He kept every single thing you gave him.

The team was loving throwing out theories about why. But the consensus was clear; Scott had a soft spot for you.

You almost never rode with Scott. So you were pretty excited when Javi told you you’d be riding with Scott today. Scott was stoically quiet as he drove, only seeming to pay attention to you when you started going through the center console.

You were surprised to find all the rocks and coins and flowers and other little knick knacks that you’d handed him over the last few weeks.

“Snooping is rude,” Scott’s stern voice broke through your surprise.

“You kept it all,” you said quietly.

Scott was embarrassed, refusing to look at you and keeping his eyes glued to the road. “Well, yeah,” he said, like it was obvious. “You gave them to me.”

“Scott…” you reached over the console to place your hand on his arm. Scott swore his brain short-circuited for a moment when you touched him. “Did you know penguins court each other by bringing each other pretty pebbles they find?”

Scott blinked. “I vaguely remember hearing something like that,” he replied.

“So…” you hummed, waiting for him to put it together.

“So… oh. Oh.” He looked at you with wide eyes. You couldn’t quite read the expression on his face.

“Well,” he began. “I’m not a penguin. So I’m just going to ask you out on a proper date.”

“Oh?” You grinned.

“(Name), would you like to have dinner with me?”

“Fuck yeah.”

————————————————————————

Scott drove you into the town of El Reno that weekend to go to a nice restaurant. You wore a pretty, short sun dress that you never got a chance to wear. Scott actually got red in the face when he saw you. It was off the shoulders too, Scott swore his mouth watered.

Scott had made reservations and everything. You noticed at the table once you were seated that he was nervously flipping a coin through his fingers. A coin you had given him.

You reached across the table and placed your hand gently on top of his forearm. “Thank you so much for taking me out, Scott.”

Scott smiled, his fingers slowing. “You deserve it,” he replied simply. The hand that had been playing with the coin tucked it back into his pocket before covering your hand that was on his arm. His hand was so big and warm and completely engulfed your hand. You blushed. “You’re red,” Scott commented with a small smile.

The moment was interrupted by the waitress, who couldn’t stop giving Scott bedroom eyes. It was irritating you. “What can I get for you guys?”

You and Scott pulled apart and looked at your menus. Scott ordered first, the waitress obviously flirting as she complimented his choice and called him “hun.” When she turned to you she lost all cheerful niceness and flatly asked, “And you?”

You grit your teeth and ordered, not adding your usual “thank you.” You only relaxed when the waitress walked away. “Are you okay?” Scott asked, brow furrowed. “You got really tense.” You avoided his eyes. “‘M fine.”

Scott reached across the table and opened his hand. You took his hand, your hand being engulfed once more. He ran his thumb over the back of your hand. “What’s wrong?”

“The waitress is just flirting with you really obviously right in front of me. I’m trying not to let it effect my mood, I’m sorry,” you muttered.

Scott squeezed your hand and you looked up at him. His beautiful blue eyes were intently trained on you. “Don’t apologize, sweetheart. I didn’t even notice she was flirting, I’m sorry.”

“Just watch how she treats you compared to me,” you whispered as the waitress approached, bringing your drinks. “Here you go, honey,” she cooed at Scott, placing his beer in front of him. Then she placed your glass in front of you without even looking away from Scott. “Can I get you anything else?” She asked Scott, completely ignoring you.

Scott looked pointedly at you. “I don’t know, do you want anything else, baby?” He casually dropped the pet name. The waitress finally looked at you with barely concealed disdain. She gave you a fake smile while she waited for your answer. “No,” you said, addressing Scott and not the waitress. “I’m good, honey, thank you.”

The waitress scowled and left.

You smiled. “Thank you.”

Scott looked surprised. “For what?”

“For putting a stop to it.”

Scott chuckled. “Yeah, someone’s not getting a good tip.”

The rest of your dinner went smoothly and that waitress didn’t come back. A different waiter delivered the check. “Let me see.” You reached across the table to try and grab the bill but Scott snatched it away from you. “I’m paying so there’s no need for that.”

You tried to argue but Scott wasn’t having any of it. “This is a date,” he assured you. “I took you out. I pay for dinner.”

“Thank you,” you said quietly.

Scott offered you his hand as you walked out of the restaurant. You took it, feeling nervous like a school girl around her crush.

The conversation on the ride home was casual and relaxed. You couldn’t help but notice how sexy Scott looked driving.

You pulled into the parking lot of the motel Storm Par was staying at for the night. Scott got out first and as you fumbled with your purse, he opened your car door for you. You weren’t used to this princess treatment.

Scott walked you to your room, and you both stopped outside your door. You looked up at Scott with a shy smile. Scott’s eyes didn’t meet yours though. They were trained a little bit lower. In turn, you dropped your gaze to his lips.

Scott put a hand on the side of your face and leaned down, practically bending over to press his lips to yours. The kiss was short and sweet and left you wanting way more.

“I hope you had fun,” Scott said, sounding unsure for the first time since you’d met him.

“I really did,” you assured him eagerly. “Thank you for taking me out.”

Scott just smiled. “Goodnight, (Name).”

“Goodnight, Scott.”

[willowser]

ᴅᴏᴡɴ ᴏɴ ᴀʟʟ ғᴏᴜʀs. werewolf kiri au.

you wake up under a mountain of furs.

light comes flickering from the hearth and, warm and welcoming as it is—you've no idea where you are.

you don't recognize the inside of the cabin; it's certainly not yours, nor is its layout that of any you’ve seen in the village. it's rather plain, with a singular window and table and chair and small fireplace, empty enough that you wonder how anyone could live comfortably with so little.

outside, the winter storm rages on, and there's a howl that cuts through the air that strikes bone-deep.

all at once your memories come back to you: dragged through town with bound hands and ankles, in only a thin night dress, screaming with all your might as the physician that delivered you into this world tied you to an old pine, along with the priest and the man that sold you blueberries in the spring.

people you knew and loved. had trusted.

the memories become hazy after a while, darkening with the night that crept in. you remember your body losing its feeling, but not its fear. you remember the violence of the storm, breaking trees and branches and uprooting the forest floor. you remember the horrible and hulking shape of something rising in the moonlight.

the door shoves open then, with enough force to send you scurrying back into the corner of the room. the blizzard tries to rush inside, but a man stands in its way, leaning back against the wood to keep the wind and snow out where it belongs. he's—big, as tall as the frame and just as wide, with thick hair that he's tied back, messy and low.

he's rosy in his cheeks and on the tip of his nose, as bright as the eyes that snap to you the moment you dare to breathe.

he doesn't say anything, at first. the bag of firewood he sets at his feet settles as he turns to you in interest, eyebrows raised. the clothes he's wearing look—old and worn, certainly not suitable for the storm roaring outside, with the holes and tears in the fabric. the boots he has on, however, seem heavy, have his steps echoing when he moves further into the room.

you pull your knees up to your chest and try to shrink away; beneath your thin dress, your skin has pebbled up, reminding you of just how vulnerable you still are.

your fear translates; the man stops on the other side of the little table, breathing in deeply before raising his hands up in what reads as surrender.

"hello," he finally says, and when you don't respond, he places a thick hand to his dark-haired chest and introduces himself as, "eijirou."

he nods emphatically and then repeats himself, as if to reinforce the name. you only grant him a small nod in return—and he smiles. it's wide, stretching across his face, and friendly, authentic enough that you question whether you're as damned as you thought, or perhaps saved.

how did you even get here? the question finally thaws out from the recesses of your brain and you take another look around the room as if the answer lies between the wood or nestled into the furs. this place looks too hand-crafted, you realize, all of it—and the man before you looks like he could move mountains, if he wanted to.

the chains that had bound you were iron-strong and didn't once budge in all your thrashing, before things went dark—but now you are inside by a well-maintained fire, warm and free, and all that remains of your ill fate are the indentions worn into your wrists.

he's still staring at you, the man. eijirou. he's not moved any closer, either, and when you meet his curious gaze, his lips twist and his eyes narrow. a thoughtful noise comes out of his mouth, like he's thinking of what to say or how to say it, and you're reminded that you don't recognize where you are, nor do you recognize him in the slightest.

big as he is, you don't think he could have carried you too far in a snowstorm such as the one still raging outside; are you still somewhere deep in the forest? in a cabin at the heart of the wood? saved by a man that somehow survives with so little out in the middle of nowhere?

"eijirou," you test the name on your lips and he perks up at the sound, attention snapping back to you instantly. you don't know if it's winter seeping through the floor, or if it's in the way that he watches you, that makes you shiver.

finally, he asks, "cold?" and when you nod, he slowly makes his way over to you, carefully, as if approaching a deer ready to run.

—and then he sheds his shirt with a quick shrug and holds it out to you.

you should want to look away, for decency sake, but you're—stunned by it, by him. there's a litany of scars that paint him in odd and worrisome places, but he stands tall and strong before you, unbothered by his own state. unbothered by the eyes that run over the expanse of his bare shoulders, the dark, thick trail of hair running down from his belly button, the ripples of muscle his loose shirt did well to hide.

you take it from him carefully and it's so warm, almost hot, that you press it to your face immediately to chase away the chatter of your jaw. the material itself, however ragged, is big enough to drape over your curled form like a blanket, and so you do just that. it carries the earthy smell of the woods, deeply woven into the fabric; pine and musk and something smoky.

with your cheek still pressed to his shirt, you look up to thank him, at last, but the words still in your throat at the minute changes of his face: still smiling, though sharper now, somehow, and his eyes are still wide with that keen, rapt interest—but the crimson to them has set like the sun and they've grown just as dark as the night outside.

[diejager]

Hello hellooooooo

I hope you are doing great !!

(I was waiting patiently for your requests to be open again lmao)

So, my brain was just thinking of something for monster!141 and I just need to share it somewhere 😵‍💫

As you may know, penguins' love language is giving pebbles to their loved ones

Penguin hybrid!Hunter just giving monster!141 pebbles and little rocks to show them that they love them 🥹

Alright, I'll go back to my knitting now BYE

*gets out by the window with a parachute*

Pebbles Cw: weird courting, tell me if I missed any.

You didn’t have any noticeable differences to a human, having the appearance of any human with a some quirky and funny behavioural traits that all of them enjoyed. You had your moments of oddity, but you didn’t seem that far from a human, having no tail, ear or horns, your skin as smooth and soft as any. They dropped their suspicions of you being a hybrid, a monster or even an inter dimensional creature of some unknown source.

And somehow, they find small trinkets - small, round pebbles picked out of a bunch to be perfectly rounded, smooth edges and glistening under the light, and sticks, long and robust, but small enough to sneak into the base without being caught - placed in the areas they often found themselves frequenting.

Price would find a cluster of pebbles on his desk, arranged neatly in a ring, a curious little thing that he shrugged off, putting them away for the time he’d be able to catch the culprit red handed in the act. Price chucked it up to being Soap and Gaz pulling a prank on him, an unsuspecting and benign trick for a little laugh between them, he didn’t bother with it too much.

Ghost found his small collection of sticks and rock on the books he liked to read, placed near the corner of his desk in his office, the arrangement was neither crude nor clean, it was a chaotic abstraction that he didn’t understand.He didn’t know what to make of it, no one would be brave enough - stupid enough - to pull something like this on him and on his stuff without knowing the risks they put themselves in.

Soap and Gaz had a few placed that belonged to them alone, like their rooms or their locker in the armoury, small areas that everyone knew was theirs. Gaz was the first of the two to find flowers and pebbles in the top compartment of his locker, picked with utmost care to keep the petal from bending. Soap found his collection of sticks and flowers stitched in a pretty crown placed around the collar of his vest, a little present full of romance and adoration. Both of them couldn’t help but find this weird act endearing.

Until Price saw you rush out of his office, a sweet, love-filled smile plastered on your face as if you’d been given the miracle of your life. If he pushed the thought farther, he could almost see a little tail wagging behind you, oh so overzealous and overjoyed with something you did. Peaked by it, he looked into his room and caught the bright petals of a daisy gently placed in the middle of a wreath of stick. He looked at it with a renewed aww and curiosity, feeling your affection roll of your intricate design, made and catered to him as if you’d made each and every single one of his boys a little courting gift-

It was an instinctual courting behaviour seen in monsters and hybrids alike. It stopped him in his tracks, causing him to question himself and your file, he’d been sure that you were human through and through, holding not a single ounce of monster blood in your veins, you’d done tests. Tests, he had to remind himself that these tests were - despite being physical and DNA tests - noted down if the recipient had any traits deemed worthwhile, something useful in the minds of a battle or in a dogfight.

That would give reason to some missing holes in your file, the little things that made you so charmingly you in every aspect was missing from your papers, reserved for people who came to know you. It warmed his heart, to see you so comfortable with them that you ended up forging such strong, emotional connections that you started giving them gifts. He’d have to take it up with the other boys, tell them what he just found out: your little, courting gifts, your hybrid roots that they could explore and your lovable smile when you’d successfully given your gift, and see where they would go from there.

Taglist: @craxy-person @crowbird @dead-cipher @iwannabealocalcryptid @iizx7y @mxtokko @yeetusspagheetus @capricorn-anon @perfectus-in-morte @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @angelcakes-22 @cassiecasluciluce @ramadiiiisme @ramblingsofachaoticthinker @ki-cant-spel @im-making-an-effort @love-dove-noora @jinxxangel13 @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @mul-pi @danielle143 @virginalsacrifice @beau-min @makayla-666 @urfavsunkissedleo @mixplara @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @luvecarson @petwifed @aldis-nuts @randominstake @stay-088 @heartelysia @jggykhug09090 @cassiecasluciluce @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi

[portraitofalinkonfyre]

My brain is absolutely mush so I'm leaving Sky period sex smut here. Pat pat. I'm so sorry you have to deal with my demons.

Don't ever apologize because I LOVE YOUR BRAIN. Your Sky requests are breathing life into me, so don't you dare feel bad <3

Crimson Comfort

Pairing: Sky x Reader

Warning(s): Period sex :). Reader is assumed female because of menstruation

Masterlist

You awoke at the crack of dawn, when the sky was but a mere sliver in the darkened horizon. A beam of tangerine light shone through the small crack in the shades, nearly blinding you as you groaned and attempted to reshuffle into a position that wouldn't sacrifice your poor eyes to the sun's fiery wrath, which was proving slightly difficult with the heavy arm sling over your midsection.

Sky, per usual, was dead asleep, his back pushed so far against the wall that you were sure he would have tumbled to the floor had it not been there. You froze when he snorted in his slumber, face wrinkling so slightly that you almost missed it. The arm around your stomach tightened minutely, fingers digging into the flesh of your side.

You waited.

Sky let out another snort, expression relaxing.

You allowed yourself a huff of relief, carefully readjusting to face him, successfully warding off the sun for another few hours. Mission accomplished.

There was a rustle.

"...Morning," Sky's voice filtered through the calm, heavy with sleep. His eyes remained closed, but you knew it didn't make him any less alert.

Fuck, you swore internally, which was an appropriate thought considering the events that had occurred just last night and the fact that he'd managed to catch you off guard yet again. Instead of vocalizing your thoughts on the matter, you flushed a dark color and mumbled, "Go to sleep, the sun's not even up."

"Hm..." he hummed. Eyes the color of the stormy sea blinked open, pupils contracting slightly as he registered the golden light washing in from the window. He gazed at you through a thick, unbrushed mess of golden curls. A thin embroidered shirt separated your flesh when he pulled you closer, head rising to nose at your hair, breath huffing at the strands. "I can't," he decided after a moment. "Not when you're awake."

You leaned in, the tip of your nose brushing the bobbing apple of his throat. "We'll be useless in the morning," the joke slipped from your lips, bouncing off his tanned skin and flailing in the atmosphere above.

"I don't mind," he huffed back. Your heart stuttered. "It's fine."

Just to maintain the bit, you snorted softly. "It's not."

Silence.

"What are you doing?" You asked when he pushed the blankets down, his hand gently cupping the back of your right thigh and hiking it over his hip, something warm and hard slotting against your core. You hadn't bothered putting on shorts after last night, leaving you in only one of his tunics and a flimsy pair of underwear.

"Is this okay?" The man in question mumbled against the top of your head, thumb stroking careful circles over your flesh. He was always so gentle with you, even though you had done this thousands of times. He always asked, and you loved him for it.

You paused–as if there was a reason to consider such an obvious answer–and nodded, kissing along the bobbing column of his throat. "Touch me," you said, and you couldn't have meant it more.

He obliged with a sharp inhale through his nose, the hand on your hip sliding to the hem of your tunic, fingers dipping beneath the fabric to trace firebrand lines up your side, eventually reaching the slopes of your breasts. You whined against flesh when he took one of your boobs in hand, thumb flicking lightly over the already pebbled nipple. You already felt so sensitive and he had barely started, which wasn't that thought provoking in your hazy state, but there was a nagging feeling in the back of your mind. Did you have something to do today? Something important? Whatever it was, it would have to wait, because there was no way you were letting the world tear him away now.

Sky's other hand came up, pushing lightly at your chin to coax you into gazing up at him. "Can I kiss you?" He asked, despite already knowing the answer. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes at the query, scooting up slightly to slot your lips together. It was warm and oh-so-perfect, leaving you both breathless and aching for more. There was a tugging feeling in your belly, and you felt wetter than the ocean, hands clinging to his strong shoulders for any semblance of stability.

"Link," you breathed when the kiss ended and you were forced to resurface for air. Your chest heaved as the sheets crinkled around you, mussed from sleep and the numerous activities that had occurred before.

The hero palmed your breast with a bit more purpose, face flushing slightly when his name fell from your lips. "It's okay," he whispered in a tone that perfectly matched yours, eyes burning loving holes into your flesh. "I've got you."

You felt yourself shiver at his words, tilting up to steal another sweet kiss. The movement of your lips was unhurried as he continued to knead you, moving to your other, neglected breast after a few moments. This time, he tweaked your nipple, and the sharp sensation had you yelping into his mouth. Fuck, that actually hurt a bit.

As if sensing your pain, Sky stopped all movement, breaking the kiss as his brows knitted together in worry. His hand withdrew from your tunic, resting on the curve of your hip, still slung over his own. "Are you okay?"

You blinked a bit, confused yourself. Sure, you were usually more sensitive in the mornings, but this was new, as was the ache in your abdomen-

You froze when something warm and wet leaked from you, in a far larger quantity to be arousal. There was a stab of pain in your stomach and the realization hit like a dive-bombing loftwing. "Shit," you hissed, scooting off of him to confirm your fears. Sky tried to follow, only to freeze in turn when he noticed the crimson blood staining his thigh, right where your core had been.

"Oh no," Sky's voice filtered as he came to the conclusion of what had just occurred. With startling grace, he all but leapt from the bed, jogging to the bathroom and returning with several thick towels in hand. His lips formed a thin, worried line as he moved to the foot of the bed, pulled the covers all the way down, and climbed back to your side. "I'm so sorry," he all but whispered, using a hand to encourage your hips to lift so he could slide a folded towel beneath them.

"Don't," you huffed slightly, sitting up and ignoring the fresh bout of cramping in your belly. It wasn't the worse you'd had, but it definitely wasn't the lightest, either. "It's not your fault."

"I know," he said in a tone that told you he didn't. "...Does it hurt?"

"No more than usual," you shrugged, determined to keep the worst of it to yourself. You had survived alone for many years, so what made a few days any different? You did, however, have no shame in asking him to fetch you things. "Could you bring me a glass of water? And some of those herbs from the potion shop?"

Sky nodded, leaning forward to press a kiss to your forehead. "I'll be right back," he said, though the look in his eyes was reluctant. Still, he was up in a flash, padding to the kitchen to fulfill your request. While you waited, you busied yourself with dragging the soiled sheets from the blissfully clean mattress, making sure to keep the towel beneath you to prevent more accidents.

Once the offended sheets had been properly grimaced at and balled into a corner of the room, you sat back down on the bare mattress, grimacing at your predicament. You were usually good about keeping track of your cycle to prevent the headache of extra laundry, but a few mishaps were bound to happen, though you were glad this particular one had occurred in the privacy of your own home, even if it did interrupt what was to be a wonderful morning with your boyfriend.

The door opened, and you were grateful for Sky's quick return. He walked to your side, bearing a cup of water and a small pouch of herbs that you swore up and down on. He plopped beside you, offering the cup with a slightly strained smile.

"Thank you," you sipped the water, then took the herbs and poured a small amount into the cup, grimacing at the bitter taste coating your tongue. You drank until the cup was empty, gagging minutely at the less-than-ideal flavor.

Sky watched with a sort of nervous anticipation when you placed the cup on the nightstand, one of his hands moving to rub the small of your back. "Is it helping?" He asked, followed by a more confident: "Do you need anything else?"

"I'm fine," you shook your head and leaned in to press a kiss to his cheek with a half-smile. "I don't suppose you're still open to cuddles?"

The hero's expression instantly softened and he wrapped his arms just under your chest, coaxing you to lie back on the bed. You went willingly, one hand reaching down to make sure the towel stayed beneath you at all times. A sharp rush of blood left you, but the pain in your abdomen was fading as the herbs took effect, leaving you relaxed and, dare you say, boneless against the broad expanse of his chest. Your head fell back against the pillows, eyes closed and breathing coming in small, content puffs. "I'm always open," he mumbled into your hair, nuzzling the soft skin of your neck. "I love you."

You tilted your head to press a kiss to his forehead, already falling into the warm embrace of sleep. "I love you, too, Link."

You awoke to a horrid cramping in your abdomen.

Groaning, you willed yourself to move, to do something other than lie in pain, but it was futile when the feeling only doubled, coupled with an unpleasant flood of... fluids from you. You felt gross and sticky, and the urge to curl up and hide was a strong one.

Sky was already awake, expression concerned as he watched your movements. The fact that he hadn't succumbed to sleep surprised you, but it was quickly overpowered when another cramp crashed over you. Deft fingers, calloused from years of training, stroked your side, occasionally dipping beneath the hem of your tunic. He did nothing, though, only asking, "How are you feeling?"

You gave a noncommittal, pained huff, resisting the urge to roll off the side of the bed and let the fall take you.

"That bad, huh?" Sky's smile was deeply sympathetic as his fingers pressed under your tunic once more, applying gentle pressure to your belly in the form of small, soothing circles. It wasn't the biggest help--without heat, at least--but you allowed him to continue, gazing up with bleary eyes.

"How long was I asleep?"

"Just over two hours," he answered quickly, and you chuckled tiredly at the embarrassed flush licking at his cheeks. It was cute how he thought that would make you uncomfortable.

"Thanks," you mumbled, eyes falling closed once more. His hand felt warm against the cool flesh of your stomach, and you trusted him to know what you needed in a situation like this. "...Do we have any more of those heat packs from the academy?"

By heat packs, you meant the emergency warmers the knights were required to carry when times grew tough, which you would have never asked for had the academy not sent him home to you with several hundred of them one random afternoon. You were still trying to figure that one out, honestly, but the flash of elated recognition in his eyes was everything. "I'll get you one!"

With that, he was gone, presumably to rummage in the closet the packs were kept in, while you were left to mourn the temporary loss of warmth. You instantly relaxed when familiar footsteps padded in, followed by a sharp snap as the pack in Sky's hand activated. He was smiling as he pushed it beneath your tunic, right where his hand had been. The warmth that bloomed over your skin was heavenly, and you could have cried when he rejoined you on the bed, chest practically molded to your side, continuing to rub those sweet, gentle circles atop the pack. "Is that better?"

"Much," you all but groaned, too blissed out to offer any true eloquence in your words. "You're the best."

"Anything for you," he murmured, nuzzling your hair as he continued his ministrations. You felt safe in his embrace, like a warm blanket after a cold day.

The only thing that broke you from your reverie was another rush of blood from between your legs, which were still bare as you had elected to free bleed on the towel until your stomach decided to stop stabbing itself. You shifted your hips, feeling a bit too wet for comfort, and Sky was instantly alert, assessing the situation with a diligence usually observed when he had a sword in one hand. "It's okay, I'll get you another one," he soothed, sitting up to pick another towel from the good-sized stack on the bedside table, sliding the old towel out and the new one under your hips.

It was purely by chance that the pad of his thumb accidentally brushed over your sore core, though the borderline moan the action elicited certainly wasn't.

You slapped a hand over your mouth, but the damage had already been done. Sky paused, brows raising as he processed your reaction. You could tell by the way his face flushed crimson that he wanted to try it again, but held back for your sake.

You didn't want him to.

The way your thighs closed on his hand was almost instinctual. You had done it many times before, but never for this reason. Sky's fingers felt warm, though a bit stiff, between your flesh. "It's fine," you whispered once your voice returned, face burning brighter than the hottest hearth. "Please..."

"O-Okay," Sky cleared his throat, obviously still reeling from the suddenness of the situation. His fingers fanned out, coaxing your thighs to part once more, baring everything to his smoldering gaze. It was your first time doing this, so you expected a bit of nervousness on both sides, but the flash of hunger in those blues of his only solidified your desire. "Tell me if I do anything wrong."

"Promise," you managed to squeak before he reached forward, tracing two fingers down the seam of your lips, gathering both blood and arousal. It was enough to send a fresh bolt of warmth zinging through your belly, curling up the length of your spine.

"Link," his name was a breathless prayer on your lips when his thumb found your clit, applying the gentlest pressure to the tender, swollen bud. The sensation was jarring, and you would have been embarrassed by the way your hips jerked had he not shushed you, fingers moving a bit lower to spare you some relief, coating themselves in a mix of fluids that you should have found disgusting, but the only thing on your mind was how hot he was like this.

"It's okay," Sky shifted, using his free hand to coax you to sit up, slotting himself between your back and the headboard. Your head fell back against his shoulder when he pressed the heat pack closer to your skin. "I'll take care of you."

And so he did. He was a man of his word, after all.

You felt helpless as you squirmed and shivered under his ministrations at your slit, spreading your wetness over your thighs and coaxing you back to intimacy, making sure to avoid your sensitive clit until he knew you could handle it.

A single finger teased your entrance, dipping in with a patience that could have rivaled the goddesses, testing your slick walls for any sign of pain or discomfort. "Does it hurt?" his question came as a breathy whisper against the trembling skin of your craned neck.

"N-No," you murmured, hips canting forward in an attempt to coax him to continue. Every nerve in your body cried for relief, and who were you to deny yourself? His finger pressed all the way in, and your hips squirmed. You needed more.

Your breath hitched when the pad of his thumb brushed the underside of your clit, testing your reaction with careful precision. This time, it wasn't quite as sensitive, and you took the action with a soft whine, head falling back further against his shoulder.

"There you go," the hero encouraged, rewarding you with an open-mouthed kiss to the side of your neck, right where your pulse beat the strongest. He pumped his finger slowly, giving you plenty of time to adjust before a second one began to circle your entrance, only dipping in when your hips rocked up, trying to draw him in. "Shh, I'll give it to you."

A low moan was your response when he pushed the second finger in, carefully crooking them against your gummy walls. The cramps in your belly had faded to a dull ache, leaving behind a far different type of throbbing in your abdomen. One of your hands fisted in the mattress while the other gripped his forearm, encouraging his movements with gentle, desperate squeezes to corded muscle. Sky was kind enough not to comment, busying himself with kissing a path down the length of your neck as his fingers crooked, searching for the spot that he knew would have you seeing stars.

"Ah!" The yelp tore through your throat faster than you could stop it. Your hips lifted slightly, only held down by the hand splayed on your abdomen. "FUck– right there–!"

"Here?" Sky's chuckle vibrated through your entire being as he complied, applying more pressure to the spot within you, occasionally scissoring his fingers to stretch you open. Your nails dug into his forearm, sinking into flesh and you struggled to regain even a shred of composure against the onslaught of pleasure, but it was for naught when his thumb reacquainted itself with your clit, padding slow, easy circles over the stiff nub. "It's okay, you can let go. I've got you."

As if on cue, the coil that had been brewing in your belly snapped, so suddenly that you didn't have time to censor the noises rolling from your parted mouth like the crashing waves of the ocean. It was too much and not enough, you thought as your body seized impressively, walls clamping down on his fingers and neck practically dislocating from how hard you threw your head back. Sky helped you ride out your orgasm as best he could, pace never once faltering as you gushed around him, squirming and whimpering.

By the time you finally came down from your high, you were panting like the air had been punched from your lungs. A small, satisfied grin crossed Sky's face as he withdrew his fingers, absolutely coated in crimson slick to where they met the meat of his hand. "How do you feel?" His voice filtered through the fog, and you took a steadying breath.

"Like I could die happy," was your tired reply. He hummed in acknowledgment, though you hardly registered the noise when he brought his hand to his mouth, gaze flicking intently over his fingers. There was something deeply contemplative in his eyes, and you flushed when pink lips parted, his tongue darting out to flick across his pointer finger, gathering the barest hints of wetness. "Oh–"

"It's not bad," he mused in a way that made you turn as red as the offending digits. Storm-blue eyes flicked to meet your own, dancing with equal measures of ravenous mirth and tender hunger. "I'm not a fan of blood, but I think I could get behind this."

"Please stop talking," you squeaked, a millisecond away from covering your face in your hands. Watching him lick his bloodied fingers wasn't something you ever thought you would enjoy the sight of, but the deeply depraved part of you cheered at the image, while the other, more reasonable part prayed for the salvation of your souls. "It's gross."

"Maybe," he grinned, and you wondered how someone so sweet could be so resonatingly smug. His tongue darted out again, lucking a much bolder stripe up his bloodied palm in a manner scarily similar to the way he acted between your thighs. "But you're not gross."

"And you're weird," you muttered under your breath, though you couldn't deny that his actions had definitely helped. "Thank you, though. I feel a lot better."

"Good," Sky's head dipped down to press a sweet kiss to your lips, shifting slightly to make sure the towel was still nestled beneath your hips, and it was then that you felt his bulge, hot and heavy, against the curve of your ass. He was hard. Maybe even painfully so, considering the spectacle he had just watched. That wouldn't do, not after everything he had done for you.

You shifted to sit up a bit straighter, gently nudging the cooled heat pack off of your flesh. Sky's brow furrowed in confusion when you turned to him, gaze questioning. "Is something wrong?"

You nodded to his very obvious hard-on–there was even a wet spot in his pants, for crying out loud–smiling slightly when his gaze snapped down, as if seeing it for the first time. His blush darkened. "Do you need help with that?"

"No," he answered quickly, then amended when you studied him: "I mean– not right now. I can wait."

"Are you sure?" You asked, tilting your head as you pivoted to face him, keeping your butt firmly planted on the towel. There was a mild cramp in your belly at the movement, but you knew it would fade as soon as he got his hands on you again. "I don't mind."

"It's fine," Sky continued, somehow managing to look simultaneously guilty and horny out of his mind. "Your health is more important than my pleasure."

True, but you also felt like your 'health' was about to take a nosedive if you didn't get him inside you in the next five minutes. Not that you would ever push him, but the ache was there, waiting to be satisfied. Still, you nodded, determined to respect his wishes as much as he did yours. "Okay," you murmured, leaning forward to plant a kiss in the corner of his mouth. "Want to cuddle until Zelda comes to the front door to find out if we've died or not?"

Sky's grin grew tenfold, and he kissed both of your cheeks in gentle succession, hands cupping your cheeks like the finest china. "I'd love nothing more."

I kind of want to write a part two for Legend's period fic now 👀

Also please forgive me for the title, I can't name things for the life of me.

[thesassypadawan]

Submit (Burnt Darth Vader x FemPetReader)

Summary: Never. You will never submit to your new master, your lord. At least that’s what you thought. After hours of torture and some persuasive thoughts, you begin to see things in a different light. Perhaps submitting isn’t all that bad. (Somewhat origin story of Pet Reader.)

Warnings: 18+ (minors dni), because all the lovely smut. Choking, Dom Daddy Darth, Somewhat Subby Pet…and Vader’s big hands.

Notes: Happy Hayden's (And Mine) Birthday Event! In honor of the man, the myth, the legend; I will be posting nothing but Anakin, Vader, and Hay stories all April long!

- “Submit to me…become my perfect pet.”

- “Never!” Feet scrabble for purchase as you rise off the floor. Hands snapping to your neck, desperately clawing at an invisible hand.

- Your new master, your lord strolls towards you. Clad all in black, his face hidden by a full mask. His rhythmic breathing pounding in your ears, along with the sound of your frantically beating heart. “Foolish little girl; you are in no position to defy me.”

- You should be horrified, absolutely terrified of him…this nightmare of a man. Yet your nipples pebble beneath your clothes and a dampness begins to grow between your legs. Body completely betraying you, despite your current predicament.

- “I can easily make or break you,” he spoke coldly, amber lenses staring emotionlessly into your eyes. “Give you unimaginable pleasure or pain.”

- Images and thoughts swirl around your brain, ones that you surely know that cannot be yours…

- A large hand wraps around your throat, squeezing just hard enough to take your breath away. All the while he, ‘your lord’, rails you from behind. Splitting you open, stretching you so achingly good. His cool leather fingers tweaking at your nipples, before dipping into your folds. Pinching and rolling your clit. Until it all becomes too much, and he somehow whispers into your ear the simple order to… “Cum.”

- Snapping back to reality, you find yourself on the ground. Gasping, wheezing; greedily inhaling as much air as you possibly can. Mind confused, vision blurry. The feeling as if you were drowning overwhelming your senses. A soreness and emptiness between your legs

- His voice rang out across the bed chamber, low and even. “Your thoughts were very loud. Very…interesting.”

- Slowly you regain control, head tilting slightly upwards. Eyes struggling to focus as you try to steady and center yourself. “W-What do you mean by interesting?”

- Taking another step forward, he lets out a mechanical chuckle. “It would seem that you do desire to belong to me. That you wish for me to use and abuse you however I see fit. That you will more than happily take everything that is given to you.”

- Reaching you, Vader squats down closer to your level. Gloved hand gripping your chin, surprisingly gently. Thumb swiping across your bottom lip, the texture sending a pleasant shiver down your spine. “Open.”

- Perhaps it was oxygen deprivation or the hours of torture you had already sustained. Nonetheless you still willingly obey, allowing him to slip his digit inside your mouth. Whimpering as you suck lightly, savoring the smokey taste on your tongue.

- Pulling away, eliciting a small whine from you. He stands back up; towering over you in his full, menacing glory. Hand held out to you, the black leather still shining with your saliva. “I can give you what your body so craves. What it truly yearns. All you have to do is…submit to me.”

- Swallowing hard, you bit your lip. You realize how desperate you are for more of his touch…to feel totally helpless…to be completely controlled. The answer is clear, and you slip your hand into his. “Yes, my lord; I will.”

- Tugging you effortlessly to your feet, you stumble forward into him. Smaller body presses against his larger one firmly. His hand begins to wrap around your neck, and you can’t help but moan softly.

- “Such a perfect little pet.”

Tag List: @espinathena-17, @myheartwillgoon2022, @wifeofasith

[clitorphosis]

AMATO AMAR PERDONA

notes: the title is taken from The Divine Comedy, Canto 5(second circle) of Inferno. Initially this was an idea I wanted to include in my other fanfiction, so I guess this can be considered as a bonus.

Priest Leon S. Kennedy x female reader | 18+ MDNI. smut, female reader, light religious themes, Leon is a priest, blowjob, blasphemy kink, improper use of confessional booth, snowball kiss, semi public sex.

tags: @sprawberry

After years of fighting B.O.W, he finally sets on something calm, helping and saving people without risking his own life, but as time passes by, a bitter realization hits Leon harder than he expected; that not everyone was born for this. Maybe it is adrenaline addiction or without noticing he had found comfort in his misery at that time, but he is grateful that the routine incorporated easily into one’s life as deeds accumulate, overshadowing any thoughts about changing his life again and he didn’t have any other way other than focusing on the work.

The church is old and is not located in the best place, which tends to have windy weather. He suspected those are reasons why the building doesn’t have a lot of visitors, not like people are deeply religious nowadays either. Sometimes it feels like walls are thinner than paper, the wind brushes and whispers sweet, quiet nothings, barely audible to human ears while Leon prepares for his tasks or just lollygags during his free time. It has been said that airy currents can bring many unwanted things; pebbles, the leaves during the autumn season and the smells that disclose people’s secrets. He could never have expected it to bring a woman into his life, making it more colorful than any light arrays coming from the glass-stained windows in his church. From a small spark, a Great flame has risen.

The only thing he needed to do was to help you with your husband’s funeral, but he fucked this up. Really fucked up all this, his mind was repeating multiple times that it was his job to console you, he should have put down your little advances, but he couldn’t, deep down the urge to delve into something prohibited was stronger. The conflict between his morality and passion had died down in two shakes of a lamb's tail. Your appearance was like a quick bullet going through his routine and destroying it, adding the thrill that consumed the guilt he was supposed to feel. Little touches of your fingers, while no one is looking, quickly have moved to more intimate encounters, indulging in each other’s body on the altar, under the eyes of Jesus.

Some days, even the confessional booth was filled with your voice, telling him your desires and how much you want him to fuck your brains out of your head, to make you a dumb slut in front of the son of God and there has never been a trace of shame in your words. A long time ago he deduced a devil would sound like you; with a sweet-sweet intonation describing, in the holy place and not trying to hide all details, how his cock would fill nicely your pussy. Leon’s mind didn’t help much in those cases either. It has always vividly recalled how good your moans echo against the walls of the church. Either there is no need to imagine anything he hasn’t already done in this building, every cranny has heard and the All-seeing eye has witnessed you indulging in the temptation of each other’s body. The gentle love transforms into a deadly sin, but it is better to suffer in hell together, than alone.

His cock was already hard, tucked out, stroking it with his hand while his blue eyes are set on your knelt state. He tugs your hair, pulling you closer to his aching length, pushing it against your lips. They almost envelop its head, the soft and plush skin of them on it, he keeps tracing and brushing his tip, smearing a little bit of his already leaking precum but not letting you go any further. Almost all day passed without even a light touch which is too much for him, a man like him can have a quick good time, and teasing himself was a bad decision.

“Daddy Kennedy, that’s not polite to make a lady wait” Your tongue peeks out to lick away the bitter substance on your lips, teeth bite down slightly on the lower skin after tongue retreated. His grip on your hair tightened, cracking out a smile and pushing your head closer now.

“It is ‘Father Kennedy’” his correction leaves his mouth quickly, leading to a light slap on your lips with his cock as a silent command to open your mouth. “and I still didn’t hear any holy words from this mouth”

You loll out the tongue, feeling him dragging his leaking head against the exposed wet surface, smearing and filling your tastebuds with the bitterness of his precum, which makes more saliva pool in your mouth. The man in front of you not only teases himself but you too.

“What do we say?” He inquires breathlessly, his blue orbs almost shining from intensity and heat in the dimly lightened booth. He slaps his cock on your tongue inducing a soft wet sound to escape when it connects with the flesh.

“O my God, I am heartily sorry for having offended you and corrupted your man.” Your eyes keep the contact with Leon’s as the prayer leaves your mouth quickly, something you have already repeated a billion times and he is already familiar with those words, not his first time to hear from one’s lips and it wouldn’t be the last time. This is so boring in the end, repenting feverly about something you can’t help but spit on. So why not alter it? Punishment is much more tempting than forgiveness. Your lips ghost on his aching cock, movements of your tongue brush more against the tip, flicking ‘accidentally’ at it and leaving him to covet for more. “Alas, I don’t detest all my sins cause the pain of hell is more alluring than the pleasures of heaven”

“Do I need to teach you everything?” Leon’s voice breaks the silence with a rough tone after you alter the prayer. You wish he would strike you, but he doesn’t. His attention shifts, watching a string of saliva dripping along his flesh from the tip of your tongue. Your eyes are on his face, meeting his gaze and not wavering. “Don’t you have any shame in that body of yours? Carrying on your whoring so openly in front of me” There is a silence, but even with the lack of his order you can grasp what he wants right now; the grip on your hair lessens, letting you be more free in your actions. “But be not afraid, my dove, this don’t disgust me, I am here to absolve you from your sins”

You don’t need to be ordered around to know what he implies. His body shudders when your lips embrace his cock in the wet and warm sensations around him, your hand slides down with your mouth along the length until you reach the base. Leon doesn’t notice how his own palm returns its grip on your hair, his hips buck up pushing you deeper to get more from your mouth already. A greedy bastard you would call him. Deep inside guilt tries to crawl out, but your mouth around him let this bullshit disappear and focus on how your tongue flicks against the head, playing with the sensitive spot under the tip, while your hand keeps pumping along the flesh, spreading the dripping saliva with every stroke. The acolyte corrupted by a widow, he should be drowning in guilt and beg for forgiveness of the Lord, but the sight of you in between his legs reminds him that God can’t give a blowjob in the confessional booth, maybe is that what’s tempting.

“Forgive me Father for I have sinned, my last confession was a year ago” Leon’s ears catch another woman’s voice, pulling him out of overflowing pleasure. This can’t be you, your mouth is busy with his cock and for a brief moment, he felt his blood hitch in his veins, at this hour usually there are no visitors, but seems this isn’t your lucky day. Your head halts its movements, keeping his cock in your warm and wet mouth, looking at him with a clear surprise. An idea sparkles in your mind, and you try to move more, to push his buttons and see him struggle cause of your doings, but his hand prevents this by giving a quick tap on the back of your head; ‘Don’t move’. A quiet sob before a trembling voice speaks up again. “I accuse myself of adultery, I have been eyeing and lusting for the man who isn’t my husband, God, I-…I am so sorry”

O the irony of the situation having someone confess the sin of lust while you are kneeling in between his legs. His hand grips harder your hair to tilt your head better so the tip rubs against the soft and velvet of your cheek, stretching it and he can feel your drool roll down, staining his pants. Leon takes a brief peek at the shadowed figure in the grilled window, trying to recollect himself. Shaky breath leaves his lips, listening to a woman’s words fill the space, his blue eyes dart down to your messy frame; trying to swallow your saliva. Leon can’t keep still himself, his hips start rolling into your mouth, enjoying the wetness of your tongue brushing along his sliding length. The pleasure makes it too hard to stay still, making him greedier for more. Your tongue flicks on his tip every time his cock moves back and forth slowly, leading his head rests against the wooden wall behind him, his half-lidded gaze keeps eye contact with you.

“Have you given into the temptation?” Leon asks. His voice feels so sensual to your ears, but they aren’t addressed to you. The poor woman whispers something, but you don’t catch her words cause your attention is mostly on the dick in your mouth.

His cock slides further, the tip rubs against the back of the throat provoking it to squeeze and tighten around him nicely and you try not to gag, not to sink too deep but your efforts are useless. His grip holds you well as he pushes you lower, highlighting his control over you right now. Drool drips more, its excess gathering at the corners of your mouth. There can be heard some noises coming from you, sending pleasant vibrations over every nerve of his body, but those wet sounds get muffled by his own heavy voice and shaky voice, trying to control it and not to get caught. This wouldn’t do anything good for his reputation.

“I can hear you rue your sin… my child, so…” he swallows hard, pausing to admire your messy state; eyes are watered, some tears roll down and your cheeks are stained with mascara, your face starts to get redder and the lack of oxygen makes you feel lightheaded, holding your breath to not mess with your gag reflex. “God is… All-forgiving..” Another heavy sigh leaves his mouth, trying to control his voice and not to groan as you swallow the excess saliva, provoking another jolt of pleasure running through his body. The warmth and how you struggle made him almost choke on the moan and forget what he was saying. If not for that lady, he would be already face fucking you without any obstacles. He swallows hard again, his tone is lower now, but there is an audible shakiness. “Repent your sins and pray to be shielded” A pause, staring at you with a darkened and burned gaze. “By the temptation of the devil… my child“

He knows well who is the devil here. His voice almost breaks in a high-pitched tone at the end of the sentence, when he rolled his hips into you, again to grind his tip into the back of your throat, his leaking tip from precum fills your taste buds again and you swallow some of the salivas, making tight walls clench around him, almost begging to cum. Personally, Leon doesn’t have the patience to keep that visitor any longer here, it gets much harder to keep his voice steady and right now his own pleasure is much more important than one’s problem. And he is nothing but a man. Hearing a mumble of prayer on the other side of the booth. His grip lessens on your hair, giving you control of your movements. You pull back, letting air to reach your lungs finally. Your lips create a strand of saliva between his dick and your glistening and swollen lips, inhaling greedily for air, while his mouth is covered by palm, trying to not groan which threatens to crawl out from his lips cause of the messy sight in front of him. His struggle is like an addiction, you can’t stay away from him right now, your lips return to pepper his cock with kisses, making him twitch in the hot air of narrow space and you sink down with your mouth, sucking on the tip while hand returns to pump his length, watching him struggling not to moan. Too bad he got lucky, the other voice ceased to exist, leaving him with you.

“That’s how you pray, sweet dove” Leon teases, the corners of his lip tugging up into a smirk. You hum, sending another wave of pleasure. Another flick and he feels his balls tighten, his cock throbbing in your mouth and his fingers return to your hair, taking control of your movements back into his hands. “Such a good little thing, fuck…” Leon mumbles, feeling beads of sweat forming on his forehead. He chases the rising pleasure in his body, his hips bucking to meet your face. Deepening thrusts, his head grinds against your throat. Another low moan escapes his lips. “Sucking so well, God made you for this, right?”

All he can see is your messy face, sloppily taking him so well, Leon is so focused on you and your mouth, his orgasm approaches quicker than he expected. His body shudders and with the last thrust his cock throbs for the last time and spurts out a load of cum, filling your mouth. His legs feel numb, and with a heavy gaze he is watching your mouth fill with his fluid so well. Leon’s mind is still under the influence of his orgasm and the post-nut clarity doesn’t hit him, so he doesn’t register how you get up so quickly, your hand lays on his stubbled cheek to pull him into a kiss. Mouth opened kiss. Your tongue doesn’t shy to intrude into his mouth, sloppily kissing him and passing the warm, slightly sticky, and salty substance into his mouth. His own cum. His taste. It fills his mouth and a moan crawls out against your lips. He pulled you tightly against his body, kissing you back harder, tongue probing and sliding against each other, playing and mixing his cum with your salivas. His Adam’s apple bobs and he swallowed it, the devil cocktail, feeling hot underneath his collar. Leon pulls back from a kiss, a string of fluids connects your lips, and if there was more time, he would fuck you on some of the wooden pews or better, on the altar. Alas, all he can do right now is to reach for your mouth to trace along the swollen and wet flesh of your lower lip. Not like his are better right now, he can still taste himself on the tip of his tongue.

“The god has freed you from your sins” he whispers, still panting heavily and his gaze is intently observing you with a deep, burning desire.

“Amen, Father” you respond.

[paleprincessturtle]

Could you write a Harvey x reader being in a secret relationship because she's Mike's younger sister? Maybe she works at the firm as a paralegal or just likes to swing by to annoy her older brother from time to time.

Hey! Thanks for the request anon. Hopefully, I can capture your vision in my writings.

Feel free to send more requests.

Enjoy!

Bagels

Pairing: Harvey Specter x Female Reader

If anyone is more important to Mike Ross than Rachel Zane, right now breathing on the face of the earth, it will be his sister. His baby sister. After the death of their parents, Mike always vowed to protect his sister. That was why Mike took it without hesitation when he got the chance to do an (almost) honest job with the firm. Mike admitted that maybe he got way too protective over her sister. She's 5 years younger than her, certainly an adult now. But in his eyes, she'll always be the little girl with teary eyes asking for their dead parents.

Unlike Mike, his sister wasn't gifted with a super brain. But she was gifted with super hands. She never took any culinary schools or any baking courses but she could bake anything and would taste heavenly. 6 months after his time at the firm, Mike could finally afford to help his sister build her own bakery. Conveniently, only around 15 minutes from the firm. Give or take.

When Jessica found out about Mike, his sister was the first person he confided in. They were pretty much sure that Mike would just be a cashier at her bakery. But when Jessica let it slide, his sister met with Jessica. Dressed as best as she could, she came to the office, asking for a Jessica Pearson. She wasn't there empty-handed, she brought with her a dozen eclairs and quiche. She didn't know whether Jessica was a sweet or a savory person, so she brought one for each possibility. Jessica wasn't necessarily happy when she saw her come into her office. But Jessica has seen tons of people, and she knew when one is genuine. So Jessica thanked her and upon tasting her baked goods, Jessica had an idea for her to take several of her products from her bakery every morning to the firm. Boy, was everyone happy when they saw fresh baked goods in the lounge.

That day was also the first time Harvey Specter laid eyes on Mike Ross' sister.

It was just like any other morning, Mike was sitting in his office when her sister came and threw a pebble to his head. "Bullseye!" she giggled and entered his office. Mike rubbed his forehead. "If I bleed, I'll sue you for violence." Mike leaned back in his chair as he observed his sister. "And I'll scream in the lobby that you're a..." she paused then took a deep breath, "FRAAAAUD!!!" Mike stood so fast from his chair about to catch his sister but she ran away and laughed.

She finally finished dropping everything in both lounges. But she made it a ritual to always drop some extras for everyone who know the truth about Mike. She dropped some in Jessica's office, Louis' office, now off to Donna, then Harvey's.

"Donna, you looked exceptionally gorgeous today. Is that a new dress?" she leaned over as she placed a small jar of pistachio cookies on her desk. Donna smirked and nodded towards Harvey's office, "he won't have any meeting for another hour. And Mike shouldn't be around too." She leaned even more forward to give Donna a kiss on the cheek. Donna also leaned forward to meet her halfway and let her kiss her cheek. She smiled and marched inside. "Sunshine," Harvey greeted her with a wide grin. He stood up from his chair and kissed her lips. "Hello, Mr. Handsome," she looked up at him as she admired his clean-shaven face. She turned her back and walked to take another small basket she brought with her. "Everyone got pistachio cookies today, but I made you bagels." Harvey's eyes got as big as the moon. "Aren't you the best. Now, I don't have to spend any lunch money."

Mike walked briskly towards Harvey's office with a stack of files. His findings were brilliant, he thought to himself. As he got closer to Harvey's office, he heard a muffled laugh. Not just any muffled laugh, his sister's muffled laugh. He glanced at Donna's desk and found it empty. So he invited himself in.

"Well, aren't you two cozy," Mike asked in a thick sarcastic tone. Harvey who was trying to take one of his signed basketballs back for Mike's sister stopped laughing and turned to see the intruder in his office. She also looked at where Harvey looking at. "Mike, catch!" she threw one of Harvey's PRECIOUS signed basketballs toward Mike. Mike dropped every file in his hands to catch the basketballs. Harvey smirked, while his sister almost exploded from laughing. What was on Mike's mind wasn't the now important files on the floor, which created a mess. But the fact that Harvey didn't even get mad when she touched one of his precious basketballs. Not only did she touch it, she threw it. Mike looked bewildered between the two important people in front of him right now. Ball still firmly in hands, he looked around. He saw no little jar filled with cookies. He found a little basket instead, filled with bagels and various spreads. Home-made spreads. Mike calmed himself as he walked and put the ball on its throne. "Bagels for Harvey? You know he likes bagels?" Mike pointedly looked at his sister, arms folded. "Who doesn't know what Harvey likes?" she tried to laugh it off. "Nice spending times with you guys, but not only you guys who have an empire to run, but so do I. Ciao!" She was about to go when Mike called out for her. "Sit," Mike ordered her. All these years being his sister, it was the first time she ever heard him using that tone on her. She obeyed. He observed the two of them. Harvey looked calm, much in contrast to his sister who looked like she was about to get busted for bringing a ton of cocaine. "You two are together?" Mike questioned. No one answered. "You two are together!" Mike gasped. "I thought she always brought you different things from her bakery because she ran out and had to give you leftovers. She always gave you your favorites. And you didn't get pissed at her touching your basketballs! Because you like her!" She was confused about what to do. Mike looked like he was about to lunge at Harvey but looked very much bamboozled. "Look," Harvey said as he walked past Mike to sit beside her. "We've been together, for the past 4 months." Another gasp from Mike. Harvey took her hand in his, waited for Mike's reaction. "Of all girls you could have.. It has to be my sister.." Mike said slowly. He looked at you, asked for an explanation. "He made me so happy, Mike. Really happy." Mike softened at his sister's response. When Mike looked at Harvey, he caught Harvey smiling down at his sister. It looked, genuine. As if he... "I'm not happy that you two kept it from me for months but I'm happy you two are happy, but," Mike stood in front of her and offered her his hand. "I need to talk to you," Mike said all serious. She nodded and squeezed Harvey's hand before she stood up. "And I have to talk to you after this," Mike said as he pointed his finger at Harvey. Harvey nodded, stood up, and patted Mike on the shoulder, before walking back to his desk. "Come," Mike rushed her outside. But before she left Harvey's office, she looked back at him and smiled. Harvey winked at her and she giggled. "DON'T WINK AT MY SISTER HARVEY!" Mike said without even looking as he rushed you out even more.

MASTERLIST

[imababblekat]

So Close

@badlywritten-stuff2 ,"i am a sucker for spiderman reader w the turtles so i was hit w a potentially galaxy brain (and. shippy.) idea; the reader and leo are about to have like, a spiderman-esqe kiss where the reader is hanging upside down on their web with only half their face showing (you know the scene-- that's ROMANCE baby!) maybe it's a little farther down the line, in terms of their relationship and it's crept into less platonic and more 'i like you' vibes but still very much leo doesnt know our beloved spidey's identity. then the boyz show up and they're all like "YALL WAS GONNA KISS??" and leo and spidey are like "NUH UH" or something idk! have fun with it i just got the sillies. thank you! i hope youre doing well!"

◌ S,p = Spider Persona ◌

~xXx~

The air felt chill across green pebbled skin, a light rain cascading down from the sky and creating a beautiful wash of colors of the city scape for Leo to gaze upon. Despite being a stickler for always staying together, especially when in the world above his home, the mutant turtle felt he exceptionally needed this moment of peace. Away from the loud bustle of his brothers, away from the grueling training he’d tunnel vision himself into in moments like these, and away from the heavy expectations of being not only the eldest but the leader put upon him.

With a heavy breath through his nose and eyes shut closed, the terrapin in blue had not noticed the quiet pitter patter of feet behind him.

“Looks like someone finally learned to get out and have some fun for once.”

Leonardo nearly jumped out of his shell, but was quick to recover and turned with a glare that quickly dissipated at realizing who his uninvited guest was.

“(S,p), what are you doing here?”, he questioned, trying his best to stop the small flutter in his chest.

Sitting on the ledge of the door that led to the roof they both now occupied, the eyes of the friendly neighborhood (S,p) motioned in a way of how one would quirk a brow.

“Uhm, fighting crime. What are you doing out here? Thought Raph was the one to go soloing about.”

Leo looked down to the city streets below, his face scrunching up at being reminded of one of his latest stressors.

“Nothing, I. . .I just needed some air.”

(S,p) frowned at this. The hunched form, stiff shoulders, and shadows beneath gorgeous blue eyes were only a few tell tales of what Leo was currently going through.

“Hey. . .”

Leo watched as (S,p) hoped down from their perch, walking only a few steps before sitting down on the edge beside him. A gentle hand had come to rest on Leo’s forearm, and even through the miraculous suit they wore, he could still feel the comforting heat of their touch.

“Remember what we talked about?”, (S,p) questioned, looking up into Leo’s cerulean(?) eyes, that of which shyly wished to look away but held firm.

“You can’t keep things bottled up, Leo. It’ll weigh you down till it suffocates you.”

Swallowing a tightness in his throat, said terrapin could no longer hold his best friends gaze, and instead focused on the smaller hand still rested upon him.

“I know. I’m still just not used to this kind of thing.”, he admitted, a dusting across his chilled cheeks in the New York night.

For a brief moment, he wondered if you were cold as well, and could not help the feeling of concern at you becoming sick for being out in such weather trying to comfort him. Though, he knew any attempt at dissuading you would be futile. The more time you and the four brothers had spent together, the closer you and honorable terrapin had grown, no way was he going to get rid of you that easily. Your gentle caringness you were about to display proving as such.

“That’s okay. That’s why I promised to always be here when you needed and were ready.”, you beamingly reminded, taking your other hand to gently cup Leo’s face and direct his focus back to you.

The flutter felt earlier returned once more to Leonardo’s chest, his wrapped hand reaching up to gently lay over the hand that still caressed his face.

How had he become so lucky to meet someone like you? He knew not of your true identity, but Leo still fully believed he could trust you with his life and vice versa. Maybe it was because you were not so normal yourself, but whatever the case may be, you never treated Leo like a freak. Not only that, but you saw more of him then some cold hardass leader. You saw past the wall he built, the façade he wore as his duty placed upon him at such a young age. It wasn’t that Leo disliked being a leader, but it hadn’t been easy on him and he very much felt alone at times. Yet, when you had stumbled into their lives, it was like a ray of sun came to cast out the rays of his lonely mind. You had always cared for him, and you still continued to do so, as he found himself doing for you as well.

There was no one he felt closer to in his whole life but you.

“So, do you feel up for talking? Or do you just wanna hang for a while?”, you quietly asked, tucking one of Leo’s mask tails aside.

With a warming smile, Leo stood, taking your hand he still held and pulling you up gently as well.

“I think I’d just like to hang, if you’re not too busy kicking bad guy butt.”

You giggled, a melody like sound to Leo’s ears as he watched you walk back to the place you once sat perched upon.

“For you? Never busy! I know this cute little roof top café we can hit up. It’s got a little private area the owner set aside for me to take breaks at. Won’t have to worry at all about any surprises.”

Watching you jump up to the higher roof ledge, Leo thought about your proposition. Sitting in a cozy area with calming night rain in New Yorker city, enjoying a nice warm cup of coffee with the one person who could light up a whole room? What could be better?

“That sounds really nice actually. They have any pastries?”, Leo asked, getting ready to follow you up.

“As a matter of fact, they do! Oooh, their honey rolls are just ab-shit!”

Leonardo's heart spiked as he saw you suddenly slip on the wet surface above, and with quick reflexes he lurched forward, ready to catch you in his arms. Unfortunately, your own reflexes had kicked in just in time for you to web your self to the dryer, bottom portion of the ledge, leaving you effectively upside down. Combining both of your quick movements, neither Leo or you had time to stop the momentum of your faces colliding together. Despite being masked, there was no doubt in either of your minds the connection you each felt upon one another's lips. As quick as it had happened it was just as quickly over; Leo stepped back faster than lightning and his face lighting up as red as his brothers mask. As for you, your whole body felt it’s only electricity, spidey senses going awry from the incident.

“I-I’m so sorry!! I was just trying to catch you and-“

“N-no, I should apologize! I’m the one who slipped!”

The air grew thick with silence, as neither you or Leo looked at the other, hearts still racing and emotions on the high end. You were still buzzing, a new feeling you had never felt before coursing through you. It was your spidey sense, that you knew, but it hadn’t been the same as every other time you’ve experienced it. It was warm, soothing, elating, like taking a nap cozied up in bed with the window open to allow for a nice spring breeze.

Taking a chance, you glanced over at Leo, the later still looking to the ground. Not aware of the eyes upon him, Leo slowly had reached up to touch his own lips, a glimmer in his eyes that had not gone unnoticed by you. The sight sent a flutter of your own though your chest, as you thought back on all the special moments that you both had shared.

Almost similarly to Leo, you had felt alone for so long. A hero with abilities never heard of before and no one to learn from. Navigating a new world and taking on responsibilities and hardships you’d never asked for. When you met the ninja turtles though, and found yourself in an ever growing friendship with Leonardo, you suddenly found yourself almost not ever remembering what loneliness felt like.

“Hey, Leo?”

Said terrapin was quick to look your way, feeling the shyness of your gaze as you called for him.

“Yeah?”

“Do you uhm. . .”

Your voice fell to a mumble, your characteristic bravado suddenly gone. Leo chanced stepping forward, and once sure that you were comfortable with him moving into your space he continued closer.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that.”

Leo felt a new nervousness within him. You both knew it was an accident, but dear god, did you hate him now? Was this going to change things for the worse? The thought of your friendship dwindling caused an ache in Leo’s heart as he worriedly waited for you to repeat yourself. However, the next words you’d speak would be the complete opposite of the turmoil within his mind.

“I-I said. . .do you want to try that again?”

Leo gulped, his eyes behind his blue mask widening.

“What? Kiss?!”

“Yeah.”

“Uhm, but your mask. Are you sure your okay with?”, Leo gestured to his own face, knowing how important your identiy was to you.

You simply nodded, gaze just as soft as the handsome one now mere inches from you.

“You can pull it down part way.”

“Are you sure?”, Leo asked once more, half lidded stare looking into the eyes of your mask, that of which he swore for but a brief second he saw (e,c) orbs.

“Yeah, I trust you.”

That was all that Leonardo needed to hear, his heart now feeling like it would explode just by your simple, but powerful statement. Ever so gently he peeled down your mask, mind a flutter at finally seeing some hint of your true self. This whole action and moment had been elating for you as well, a thrill in your heart at feeling the brush of Leo's hands across your bare skin.

With the ambiance of falling rain, glowing lights of ranging hues, and the warmth of the others breath, the kiss Leo was about to share with you, would be a cherished memory for a life time and more.

“Hey, guy’s! I found him!”

Never had you pulled your mask up so quickly, and never had Leonardo let out such a roaring groan. Foot falls came to a halt as Raphael, Donatello, and Michelangelo hopped onto the roof top you both occupied.

“What the hell, man?! We’ve been tryin’ to reach you all night!”, Raph glowered throwing his hands up as his brother in blue sent him the sharpest of glares.

“There’s been a Foot Clan robbery, and NYPD needs back up.”, Donnie hurriedly spoke, too focused on one of his gadgets to take notice of the same death glare sent his way.

Ultimately, it was Mikey who had come to read the room, going to give you an excited greeting when he took notice of the bashful look displayed on your mask, Leo’s deep scowl, and the close proximity between you both. The biggest, toothiest of smiles breached the youngest face, but Leo had no time to stop him from speaking out.

“Yooo!! Were you two about to do what I think you were about to do?!”

Raphael and Donnie confusedly looked to Mikey, Leo furiously making motions to get Mikey to shut up.

“What are you talking about, Mikey?”, Raph spat, not in the mood for his antics.

“Oh you knooow~ Leo and (s,p), sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G!”

Realization smacked both Raph and Donnie in the face at that moment as they quickly looked between you both, each’s expression brimming with surprise.

“Wait, seriously?! Is that why you weren’t answering your phone?!, Donnie gawked while adjusting his glasses.

“So, like. . .with mask or no mask?”, Raph questioned with a shit eating grin.

Another heavy groan reverberated from Leonardo as his brother huddled together to begin their collective teasing. How was he going to survive this? Cheeks hot with embarrassment as his brother laughed and continued to banter from a distance, Leo turned to apologize to you, only to find you suddenly absent. Leo felt a sudden sadness at your disappearance, but a ping to his phone caught his attention. A text notification, above the many missed calls from his siblings, caught his eyes.

“Meet you dorks at the robbery! Coffee after? Or will you be too busy dying from your brothers torment? ; )”

Leo let out a breathy chuckle, and with a warm grin and even warmer heart, sent a message in return.

“For you? Never busy!”

~xXx~