can we please pretty please get more submissive simon i had a visceral reaction to the one i js saw "submissive side" of him or smt yferuhdyuehdu2fh3ew;uidhj please 🙁
AN: of course you can bb, always here to feed you guys 😩
you’re perched all prettily on simon’s lap, legs straddling his hips as your arms hang loosely around his neck. he’s shirtless and you’re wearing nothing but your panties and his t-shirt, your fingers absentmindedly tracing his tattooed chest.
his hands rest gently on your thighs like he’s scared to move—like he’s waiting for you to tell him it’s okay.
“simon,” you whisper, eyes flicking up to meet his, “you said you’d be good for me.”
he nods. instantly. desperate.
“then be good,” you say softly. “hands behind your back.”
he listens, always your good boy, taking his hands off of you and shoving them behind his back before looking up at you—waiting patiently for his next instructions.
you can’t help but grin at the puppy dog look in his eyes as he stares at you—all yours, at your mercy, ready to do whatever you tell him to do next.
“you want me to use you, baby?” you murmur, voice syrupy sweet as your fingers dip beneath the waistband of your panties. “sit still, then. and don’t even think about moving your hands unless i say so.”
he whimpers, nodding frantically as your fingers begin drawing slow circles around your clit. his eyes are flicking back and forth between your face and your hands, he can’t stop watching the way your teeth sink into your lower lip, the way your eyebrows furrow, the way your hand speeds up or slows down.
“you wanna help, simon?” you ask, voice all sweet and breathless.
his eyes go wide as he nods frantically, fingers and cock twitching at just the thought of more.
“then just sit there and look pretty while i fuck myself on your cock.”
he whines, throwing his head back against the pillow, nearly cumming in his pants over the tone in your voice. over the thought of being used by you.
you climb off of him, pulling your panties and his boxers off, only to crawl right back into his lap—lining yourself up and sinking down on his cock without warning.
simon chokes. gasps like you’ve just knocked the air out of his lungs. his thighs are shaking already, hands still clenched behind his back like you told him. you’re so warm, so tight, so perfect around him—he doesn’t know how he’s supposed to survive this.
“look at you,” you murmur, grinding your hips down slow and lazy, watching the way his jaw drops open. “you wanted to help? this is you helping. you’re just my toy right now.”
he whines again, eyes rolling back.
you can see his fingers twitching behind his head, practically scratching at his neck as he holds himself back from touching you.
“please,” he breathes, voice cracking. “please, i can’t… i won’t touch unless you say, i swear—just please, let me move. let me feel you.”
he’s begging now, hips twitching upward against you like his body’s trying to betray him. you press your hands to his chest, steadying yourself, and shake your head.
“no, simon,” you murmur. “good boys wait.”
a broken sound spills from his throat. he’s blinking hard, trying not to cry, trying to hold it together for you. you feel him pulsing inside you—so close, and you haven’t even let him move.
“you’re doing so well, baby,” you whisper, brushing his hair back gently. “just a little longer, okay? you’re being so good for me.”
“i’ll be better,” he pants. “i’ll do anything. just—please.”
you pause, thinking for a moment.
“you can use your hands.”
he doesn’t hesitate—not even a second. those big, trembling hands are suddenly gripping your waist like you’re the only thing tethering him to the earth, like if he let go, he’d fall apart completely.
and maybe he would.
“thank you,” he breathes, voice wrecked.
you smile. lean in and kiss the corner of his mouth, slow and sweet, before you start to move.
his head falls back again with a choked moan. his grip tightens as you ride him, slow and deep, and you can feel him shaking beneath you—hips trying to stay still, like he doesn’t want to mess this up.
“so good for me,” you murmur. “my sweet boy.”
his whole body tenses at that. one of his hands slides up your back, gripping your shirt like it’s the only thing keeping him grounded.
“can i cum?” he gasps. “please, let me—i’ve been so good—”
you tilt your head. smirk a little.
“then show me. show me how good you can be.”
he whimpers—loud and broken—and you feel it when he falls apart under you, cock twitching as he cums with your name on his tongue like a prayer. he’s trembling, hands clutching at you like he’s terrified you’ll pull away. like he needs you just to breathe.
and when it’s over, when he’s panting beneath you and blinking through the haze, you brush your fingers through his messy hair and whisper—
loyalty of a guard dog - sub!simon riley x dom!reader (18+ MDNI)
y’all seem to enjoy smut sooooo… have submissive simon riley to tide you over while i finish writing the second part of psychopathy (and the next chapter of in sickness and in health i PROMISE ITS COMING)
cw: dom/sub dynamics, explicit smut, simon has a pantyhose fetish, if you squint there’s stuff with feet (sorry not sorry)
masterlist
simon can’t remember how it started. can barely remember life without you in it, if he’s honest. you have been his tether to sanity for longer than he would like to admit. when everything gets to be too much, the demons in his mind and his past too loud, you are his solace.
but it’s time like this that that part is hard to remember.
the power dynamic at play could not be any more obvious than it is right now. he’s achingly hard. the pain in his knees is starting to burn from where you have him kneeling on the hard wooden floor of your flat, his hands palm up on the top of his thighs - the perfect symbol of devotion, of submission. and you, lounging in front of him without a care in the world. you, still fully clothed, one beautiful leg crossed over the other, while he is fully nude. his neglected cock bobs, desperate for even the smallest bit of attention. his pale, scarred skin is flush, the bright red of a heady mixture of embarrassment and arousal that makes his head spin.
his chest is heaving, a pathetic whimper bubbling in his throat as he stares up at you. you glance down at him, the tiniest smirk playing on your plush lips as you watch him.
“somethin’ wrong, si?”
oh, gods, he’s so fucking gone that even watching the way your lips form around the silk sweet words that come out is fucking pornographic. the whimper finally breaks free as he tries to find the words that are dancing on the tip of his tongue. he swallows thickly, keeping his gaze locked on yours.
“please… please, let me touch you. i just wanna touch you. i’ve been… i’ve been good,” he rasps out.
your smirk widens as his words wash over you. you uncross your legs, teasing him with what lay at the glistening apex of your thighs. “you wanna touch? that all you want?” you reply, voice dripping with smug seduction. you have him right where you want him, hanging on to your every word, and wrapped around your little finger.
simon’s eyes roll back, the desperation and burning need for you, for anything, becoming almost unbearable. but, before anything else, he was a soldier, a loyal guard dog, and a dog follows orders. you told him not to move, to sit and stay, and he would listen, even as his weeping cock, almost purple with pulsating need, bobs up and down to try and get any sort of stimulation. “please, i just need you. need to make you feel good. need you. so, so bad. please, let me have you.”
you hum softly, your deft fingers tracing lightly over your chest, down, down, down until they reach the damp spot between your thighs. you tap the spot once, twice, three times, withholding the jolt of pleasure from showing in your face with an iron will. simon would do anything for you, devotion to the point of obsession, but what he didn’t know is that you would do the same for him. and sometimes, that meant this - teasing the man until he was nearly delirious with need, so deep into that perfect floaty space that he craves so badly after a particularly rough time. your pleasure, at this moment in time, is entirely irrelevant. you have to take care of your boy. “well, how can i deny such a compelling request from my pretty boy, hmm?”
you stand up slowly, letting the skirt of your dress fall back over the sheer black fabric of the tights you have on underneath as you send up a small thanks to whatever deity is listening that you decided to dress up for work today. it drives simon crazy to see you all done like this. you take a single step closer, then another, and another, and another, until you are a mere inch away from where he is kneeling. as you look down at him, you can see the way his body is vibrating as he holds back from touching you. his gaze is pleading, his scarred bottom lip sticking out slightly in a subconscious pout. you bring your hand up to cup one of his cheeks, a small smile playing on your own plush lips.
“you’re so pretty, you know that? such a good boy for me. you look so perfect on your knees like that for me,” you whisper, your voice light with affection as your thumb strokes his cheekbone. “how about this, hmm? tonight, we start slow,” you explain quietly as you bring your foot up to rest against his aching cock.
“it’s late, you just got back from deployment, and i want you to feel good,” you continue as you apply a little more pressure to his cock, which causes him to lean forward slightly, a light whine of pleasure pushing past his lips. “so, no touching with your hands. however, i give you full reign to put that beautiful cock to work between my legs. how’s that sound, love? hmm?”
simon blinks up at you, his pupils blown with wanton desire. it takes a moment for your words to sink in, but as you adjust your stance to better allow him to slot his cock between your stocking-clad calves, he nods vigorously. he lifts his hips up to nudge the head of his cock between the silky nylon, and his eyes roll back in his head again. the bright red flush that has been covering his skin flares back to life, that same mixture of embarrassment and arousal kicking into high gear as he starts to fuck into your calves.
he’s a whining, shaking mess as he tries to get off. but it’s hard not being able to touch you, to not be able to make the pressure between your legs just right, to have to focus all of his energy on staying upright as he fucks into you, or to even just feel the way the black tights you pulled on this morning before going to work feel underneath his palms. the only relief he gets is being able to feel the drag of the silky nylon catch on the head of his cock as the precum dribbling out of him soaks the fabric in earnest.
he feels your fingers tangle in his short, curly blond locks as his hips piston into you, and a wanton moan rips from between his lips as you yank his head back, exposing his throat to you. he hears you laugh, a dark, lilting thing that draws him in like a siren. it’s a promise wrapped in a barbed paper - it’s going to be a long night. “look at you, si. such a pretty fucking cock. too bad it’s being wasted on some stockings, isn’t it? but it just feels too good, doesn’t it? you love the way it feels, and you love being on your knees and humping me like the perfect dog you are, huh?”
he nods again, another pleasured whine pushing past his lips as the motion tugs on his hair deliciously. he knows he should be answering with his words, but he is far too gone to have any semblance of ability to speak coherently. his heart races in time with his hurried, erratic thrusts, his breaths ragged and filled with pleasure as he barrels towards his release. he forces his eyes to open so he can look up at you, his head thrown back in pleasure, his eyes half-lidded and pupils blown.
“please, let me cum. lemme cum, love, please. wanna be so good for you, just… just let me cum.”
you smirk, biting your lip and letting your own head fall back to break the eye contact, pretending like you have to think about it. his pace picks up again, his thrusts so sharp and quick that for the briefest of moments you worry about the possibility of his cock getting the equivalent of rug burn. buy, he hasn’t tapped out verbally or non verbally, so you push the thought aside. you tap your chin, really playing up the theatrics of making this decision before you sigh a little dramatically. “alright, since you asked so sweetly, i give you my permission to cum.”
it does not take long after that word is out of your mouth for his release to come barreling towards him. one thrust more, and his cock is spurting out cum onto the floor behind you, his thrusts become haphazard as he chases the last bits of his orgasm. his breathing is heavy as he starts to come down, his cheek coming to rest on your thigh. you smile, a sense of pride filling your chest as you reach down to cup his cheek again as you let him catch his breath. he nuzzles into your touch before turning his cheek slightly to press a gentle kiss into your palm. you stroke his cheek lovingly as you watch him, looking for any immediate signs of subdrop.
“color?” you ask softly.
“green,” he mumbles against your palms with a smile on his lips. “i fuckin’ love you in stockings.”
you laugh softly, shaking your head slightly in amusement. “c’mon, let’s get you cleaned up and in bed. i promise cuddles and a chinese takeaway for the night with our favorite shitty reality show reruns, yeah?”
——————————— fin ———————————
(lol that turned out SO much longer than i expected it to be l m f a o but ah well, the brain worms had to be fed. anyways, eat well lovelies and don’t forget to always practice kink safely!!!
cw: hybrid!bruce, submissive!bruce, superhero!reader, mentions of original justice league, scars, handjob (w.c. 2.5k) 18+ minors dni!
⤷ you're a dedicated member of the justice league, a vigilante in gotham city who works close with the dark knight. but when bruce wayne confines in you with a very... unique problem, will you come to his aid?
being a superhero in gotham city means you’ve seen a lot.
you dealt with frequent pandemonium in the streets. the freakish, crazed villains that wrecked mass levels of havoc on the unsuspecting tuesday.
on top of that, being part of the justice league meant you learned to juggle more than the average person — hell, the average superhero.
you weren’t part of the original team — but you’re constantly showing that you’ve earned your rank to stand amongst them. you share long nights and early mornings in the tower with the founders of the team.
you’re a well-known superhero to the world — popping into the scene without the explosive flare of the Flash, but the tenacity of the world's finest.
as a superhero, you’re well-composed, polite but… elusive. not much is known about you to the public outside of mission sightings and the occasional interview. you don't show yourself as a public figure like Wonder Woman, or thrive in the limelight like Superman.
but you bring a certain… light to gotham, a gentle radiance that's never gone away despite the harsh realities of your city. you've never let it dim you, instead vowing to change the city from the inside, one villain at a time.
and you and the Batman… are alike in the little ways ways; it's seen in the easy way you both get along both on the field and outside of missions. you seem to understand his moods, his similar distance and need for privacy, but you don’t see it as a challenge.
you meet him where he is — little jokes about his eye bags when he confesses to staying up late with robin or the quiet moments when the infamous cowl weighs heavy on his shoulders.
so when alfred calls your phone in the late hours of the night, you answer immediately. you couldn't help the raise of your eyebrows and a badly restrained wheeze at the voice of the stoic, composed butler.
“….alfred? you want me to come over to wayne manor… now?"
all in all, you've seen so much over the years that you were confident almost nothing could actually, truly phase you or surprise you.
what you definitely weren’t accounting for when you pushed open the grand doors of bruce’s bedroom — was the sight of two fluffy, slender ears twitching up at you.
your whole body freezes, completely locks in place.
you never freeze — in all the years of superheroing, of being in front of the camera and paparazzi and navigating your secret, double life as a normal citizen.
you think your jaw is somewhere glued on the floor. you’re rooted to the threshold of the large bedroom, eyes trapped on the twitch of smokey grey cat ears on the head of gotham’s most elite, the infamous playboy, the dark knight himself.
steely blue-green eyes instantly snap to you. bruce sits stiffly on the edge of his enormous bed, all muscle of him tense and coiled. the room is deadly silent, save for the erratic swish of a fluffy tail coiled into the sheets.
he's not hunched over; no, in bruce fashion he's wound too tight, back straight and shoulders tensed in his long-sleeve black shirt. his grey slacks are pulled taunt on powerful thighs, his jaw locked.
any other person might think he was underreacting — too calm.
but you can instantly tell, one look and you know.
“bruce—“
“stop.” his voice was instant, quiet but stone cold, flat. carefully stripped of any emotion. but strangely, his extra features reacted before your eyes against his knowledge.
his ears flatten to the raven black locs on his head. his tail gave a series of tight flicks, anxiety wound tight in every movement.
any other person would be stunned to silence by his behavior, his cold indifference. you see this side of him often — on comms in the field when the Batman's steely voice cuts sharply in your ear, when he leads night debriefs with the justice leauge, jaw tight and voice a whisper as he grills everyone on a small mistake.
but you aren't any other person. because when bruce is Batman, losing himself in the darkness, you find him. you don't try to pull him out of it immediately like the Flash, you don't harsh it with well-intentioned, but stark words like martain manhunter; you sit in it with him.
you approach slowly across the expansive hardwood floors. “when did this… development happen?” trying the analytic approach, as you know the Batman defaults to.
a pause, then his gruff voice hisses out the words like it physcially pains him to even describe it. “couple hours ago. long mission tracking a suspected magic user across gotham. thought I could handle it myself — did handle it — right before they cast an insignia on my cape. I realized too late."
blue eyes watch as you take a seat on the edge of the bed. close to him, possibly closer than most would dare to get. but still silently respectful of his personal space.
you don't break eye contact with bruce, intentional in the way your body shifts towards him.
“…why call me?” your question is soft, unguarded, no malice — only pure confusion.
you watch bruce’s face, which is usually so cool, schooled into a neutral, flat expression — flicker. fuzzy ears swivel and you watch him fight the urge to cover them, his hands flexing into fists for a flash of a second. his tail lashes once against the bed, tip of it curling and uncurling in on itself.
you’ve seen bruce in many ways. injured from the job, grimacing in pain, laughing dryly at one of hal's jokes, his media-trained smile to the paparazzi before entering some expensive gala, and the genuine one you got to know— but you’ve never seen this.
he’s nervous.
his eyes met yours. “because I wanted you here.”
the words land with all the delicacy of a nuclear bomb.
you swallow the knot in your throat. there's no name to what you and bruce have been… building over the years as you gained seniority in the field. more duo missions. newspaper clippings of your elegant form twisting through the air — and the dark shadow of wings behind you. the press and fans ran with the stories, the tabloids crafting a popular love story for the public to feed off of.
the two dark and mysterious heros of gotham… the headlights practically wrote themselves.
and of course you both are aware of it — the whole justice leauge are. your coworkers turned close friends were respectful of each others private lives — who better to understand the importance of boundaries than the most popular superheros in the world? — but they still teased here and there.
like the shared, knowing glances across the meeting table when you announced mission pairings together. no questions asked, but always a small smirk or smile.
nothing has directly happened between you and bruce over the years, but you feel the tension. the same way you can feel the quiet pressure of his eyes on you during conversations.
the quiet check-ins after a particularly brutal mission, the occasional phone calls, the late nights of patching each other up in the bat cave, bruised and beaten but finding moments of quiet, exhausted laughter.
you finally pull your attention to the mass of fluff on top of his head. maybe it's to deflect from the moment, to avoid and vehemently ignore the rising flush you feel on your skin. or the way his eyes track you easily, watching every minute expression on your crumbling visage.
he's close now. was it him or you that got closer, narrowing the space across the bed?
"you know that my powers can't help with… this. there's a wide range of magic users in gotham. they couldn't help?" you said quietly, watching his ears still pinned tight to his head. your head swarms with possible contacts. diana, for one — she might tease, but her demigod background could provide insight to magical ailments.
they gave a small twich. "tried that," he gruffly admitted. "got told it's a… complex curse. won't wear off until tomorrow. ran DNA tests, counterfit blood analysis, nothing. computer database couldn't find anything on it, some type of foreign, extraterrestrial strand."
you stifle a laugh — classic, an inconvenience at best but definitely casted by the magic-wielder in a petty attempt to leave the dark knight frustrated after being caught.
"can I touch them?"
bruce's blue eyes lock on yours. his eyebrows raise. you watch his ears perk up against his neatly styled hair, swiveling to face you.
you meet his eyes, a small smile lighting up your features at his sigh. one nod — that's all he gives you. you take it with glee.
tentatively, you let your hands brush the soft fur. they twitch violently under your palms and you catch the small changes in his expressions. his strong shoulders begin to soften, body slumping towards you as bruce's eyes squint in… pleasure?
a deep, rymthic rumbling tickles your palm. bruce wayne, well-known playboy, dark knight of gotham city — purring. it's quiet and almost more a sensation than a sound, but the image alone is enough to startle you again to numb silence.
you immediately try to ignore the warm sensation coursing through you at the sight.
he shoots up like he was burned, his dress shoes already clicking straight towards the door. "this was stupid. I apologize for asking you here. alfred can show you out—"
"bruce." your voice is firm, grounding. he stops clear of the door, his shoulders stiff. he doesn't turn around — no, but his ears turn around to face you.
your hand pats the bed, voice low and warm. "you called me here. I want to help."
you let a teasing tone lit your voice as you add, "and I can't possibly walk away from the opportunity to see the bruce wayne… like this."
he turns around and you spy a small smirk on his face. "you're a menace."
"and yet you invited me," you supplied helpfully, watching with a gleam in your eye as he sat again beside you.
"and I'm starting to wonder if I'm loosing my better judgement." bruce shoots back, blue eyes equally as amused as you let out a warm laugh.
you pause as you feel his large, calloused hands reach for your own. he brings them back up to his head, all muscle of him leaning down to arch into you as you slowly stroke his ears.
the purring come back, slow and quiet, then louder as you press closer. his hair becomes messy under your gentle strokes, loosening around his face and framing the faint rosy blush on his face.
"I don't… know why… this feels so good." he mutters lowly. you sush him, another strike of arousal swirling through you at the honest words leaving his lips.
one of his thighs bumps yours — a large, straining imprint pokes from his trousers. you suck in a harsh breath. bruce's eyes flutter open and you're struck by the intensity in them, a dark swirl in a blue haze.
his hand takes yours again. you feel the warm press of his lips on your hand, the scratch of his stubble, lingering as he then guides your hand
down
down
down.
one word, whispered in the small space between you. "please."
bruce wayne lays bare underneath you in the dim lighting of the room, the lurch of his cock leaving a dark imprint in his briefs.
his eyes find yours in the darkness, watching as you watch him — his ragged breaths pushing past pale skin. his muscles strain as you run a slow hand down his abdomen, circling the divot in his v-line with something close to worship.
you've seen him shirtless, briefly, in short glances when he's stripping off pieces of his shredded suit after a mission, but never this. the scars along his body tell of infinite stories of how he had to become the Bat, what trials he had to overcome to hone his body to accomplish what he's capable of now.
and all that strength is still there — in the twitch of his jaw when you lean forward over him, in the way his hands clench on the meat of your thighs in a bruising grip, in the way his abs clench and contract with every touch you leave.
he's holding back for you. because of you.
you reach down and finally release him from the tight confines of his briefs, watching in quiet awe as his cock slaps wetly onto his stomach. it's flushed an angry red at the tip, long and curved.
bruce sucks in a sharp breath between bitten lips. you watch every change in his expression as you start languidly stroking him. you take pleasure in the way he groans under you but doesn't move, no, instead letting you toy with him.
his fuzzy tail snakes to wrap around your ankle. curious, you stroke one of his ears at the same pace of your other hand —
that does it.
"baby please," that pleading rasp, his hands pulling you closer. he stumbles over his next words, overwhelmed by the new sensation, by the smell of your skin, the heat rising from your body. his eyes swim with embarrassment, but stronger still, need. overwhelming need.
"I'm not going to last long." bruce grinds out, tail giving a lash in warning.
you coo down at him with a knowing smile, tightening your grip with a hard jerk to his tip. leaning down, you let your lips brush his ear as you whisper. "I'm here bruce. let go for me."
something akin to a sob rips from his throat. you feel the hot splash of him coming undone in your hand and onto his stomach.
you sit up with a satisfied grin, moving to give him space and release his ears but you don't get far.
strong hands spin you around and suddenly your back is pressed against the plushness of the bed. "bruce— what—"
blue eyes glint dangerously in the light. words die on your throat as the dark knight leans over you, powerful arms bracketing you in place. caging you.
the lash of a dark tail cuts across the dark as he speaks. you almost don't recognize his voice, a heated purr that makes you shiver. your mind briefly wanders to the bruce that the paparazzi praises, the confident, rich playboy.
clean, sharp cologne wraps you in a haze. you gulp.
"I've been very… patient tonight. good, even. don't you think I deserve a reward?"
safe to stay, you don't leave for the night.
of course this is my first time writing for bruce and it's... whatever this is. what can I say, inspiration strikes in strange ways! I'm a firm believer in bottom!bruce supremacy!
@ starrkuma 2026— all rights reserved. please support by reposting or leaving a comment !
If you’re still writing for lmk can I get peng x a dominate reader, as in they’re quick to remind Peng who’s the one in charge here lol! Peng needs to be put in their place
☆ The Real One In Charge — Peng x GN Reader HCs ☆
Genre: Fluff || they/them pronouns for reader || No warnings needed
──────.𖥔 ݁ ˖˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ──────
ᯓᡣ𐭩 Peng is a naturally very prideful bird, someone who takes a lot of time in maintaining a good appearance, both literally and when it comes to reputation. That is, until they met you, and they made the mistake of snarling around you frequently
ᯓᡣ𐭩 The first time Peng made an underhanded jab around you, they were surprised how quickly you shut it down. You told them to knock it off with no hesitation, and they would've taken offense if they weren't so caught off guard
ᯓᡣ𐭩 You also weren't afraid to yank them back if they were about to jump into a fight. You'd pinch their wing, tug them back by their arm, or even yank a feather if needed. It always swam around their mind. How could you have such audacity?! The nerve!
ᯓᡣ𐭩 They'd tried to start plenty of arguments with you over it. 'How dare you boss around the great Golden-Winged Peng', 'Do you have any idea how long I've fought to do what I please', a bunch of Peng's hurt ego leaking through, which you could easily brush off
ᯓᡣ𐭩 Unbeknownst to you, what Peng was most annoyed about was his own internal reaction to you. You're bold enough to stand up to them when no one else would, challenging them and their bold claims of superiority. Peng actually found it very attractive
ᯓᡣ𐭩 They hated that they did, at least at first. But as it went on, they began saying some pompous things intentionally, just to hear you put them in their place and remind them of how you don't feel the slightest bit intimidated
ᯓᡣ𐭩 You of course caught on, Peng's smarmy smirks didn't exactly hide much, not from you. And maybe that's why it got to them so much. The hidden vulnerability of having no walls between you, knowing their confident snark can be seen through for once
ᯓᡣ𐭩 Peng eventually started approving their behavior, to humor you and your confidence. The rest of the Brotherhood asked— sometimes jokingly, sometimes with genuine curiosity— how'd you managed to do it. You brushed it off casually, catching Peng's glance from nearby. You knew they'd never believe you if you just said the truth, so you decided to keep it between you two
Content warning; groping, reader has a potty mouth, traumatizing Rafe again, typical work day at the trailer, TENSION
A/n; Wolf of Wall Street reference if you squint
Word count; 1.2k
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Hello again," you didn't have to look up to know it's Rafe again, trying to smother his heavy breathing with face paced steps in your direction.
It's his second time in your house in less than 12 hours, by enabling his poor habits you've been able to pinpoint his unscheduled appointments, usually within a three day period, meaning about 2-3 visits a week.
Money, drugs, transport, whatever Barry had to offer, but same day repeats were a huge no for Barry. Can't keep clientele if they're dead, it's his way of caring, unless they wave a couple bands.
But Rafe was special, you'll tell him no, no problem, and that's what you did. Even if you were actively spooning greens into thin cut rolling paper.
"Wha-, no, I'm not here for that," he huffed, even though he eyed the jar of rolled blunts.
"Why are you all sweaty and out of breath?" His shirt was dampened in the pits, easier to spot with how swamped he was everywhere else, his hair all sticking together, he looked good.
He stopped his movements, shooting you a squinted glare, lifting his hands above his head, resting them in his hair, "where is Barry?"
Where is Barry? If you had a dime every time he said that, you'd own that bar on figure 8, such a nice piece of land at the end of town, underfunded, partially developed, perfect.
Hello," he snapped, waving his hand in your face.
"Yo..." Barry's voice droned through the entrance, he sniffed, kicking aside your bra on the floor, tugging at his cargo pants, looking at the scene before him.
His eyes fell to you, on the couch, your bare legs parted, what visible part of your bottoms tucked just beneath your working hands, the rest disappearing beneath the half tied robe you're sitting in.
" 'Hell is this?" Mainly looking at you because when he left to go fool around in the makeshift shed out back you were reading a magazine that you had found tucked on his side of the bed.
Now it was open to a page of a girl bent over in a very skin tight skirt, looking back and in some stringy stilettos, her legs seemed infinite while her torso was buried beneath your station.
"I need a gun," Rafe interrupted the heated staring contest, watching as you reclined against the couch, kicking one knee up, the end of your robe hiking over your knee exposing your thigh, a sparkling pedicure gracing the cluttered table.
Barry's pupils voided solid for a second, his eyes flickering over to the kid. You really were distracting him.
But Barry obliged with the request, silently heading towards the bedroom, you giggled at the sound of his flipflops after him.
Rafe stayed in the living room, staring down at you. He's so tense, you wonder if maybe you can help with it.
More so leaning forward to roll a blunt, bringing the packed paper to your lips, looking through your lashes up at Rafe while keeping your head down, breathing on it gently, the tail of your tongue prodding through your lips, flicking at your project.
Delicate kitten licks, hardly even grazing the surface as you extended your foot to where he was standing, with the tips of your toes dragging them down against the fabric of his pants.
Barry came back in the room, holding a western revolver, jamming the loaded chamber back into place, holding it out for Rafe.
"Oh?" You hum, leaning forward, Rafe has more business to take care of than any responsible adult you know, which isn't many.
"You boys and your business," watching the quick exchange, seeing Barry also had a gun tucked in the waistband of his pants.
"Speaking of, what's all this?" the weed, the robe, looks like you in charge of this operation, that wasn't entirely untrue. "Restocking inventory."
"In a robe?" While you had a guest you were still in the comfort of your home, so if you decided to lounge around half dressed so be it. "I mean, I can always take it off," you shrugged, flipping the end up over your lap.
His hand swept over yours, pressing your hands firm in place in objection "you good."
Rafe watched in irritation as you two interacted, seemingly ignoring the urgency of his statement, glaring heavily at you.
It was you, not Barry.
You were a distraction, to him and Barry.
His glare had lessened when he felt the scrap of your nails against his thigh, followed by a heavier presence between his legs, bringing him back to present.
"Little boys shouldn't play with guns," your tone casual, but low, seductive almost. "But if you're all grown up," followed by a nice squeeze, squishing his balls against your palm, your lips curved into a sunken smile, you were enjoying this, "we won't have a problem...will we?"
A quick silence fell over the room, and then the faint whimper from Rafe, his knees bending as he was following the pull of your hands with his hips, he let out a strangled hum of acknowledgment and a haste nod making you smooth over your thumb over where you had been viciously tugging on him.
You kept him in your grasp for extra measure turning your predatory attention now on to Barry, first noticing his bottom lip tugged under his teeth.
You didn't have to look to know that turned him on, he kinda likes being told what to do, especially when you know what you want and how you want it.
"As for you," with your free hand you undid your robe, shrugging it back off your shoulder, showing the thin strapped tank you were wearing, fully giving away the curve of your breasts, "I'll remind you, they don't have this where you're going."
Something you liked to remind him of, if not daily, and it works every time.
Especially like now, when you've displayed your dominance even cornered by these two men, one in the palm of your hand and the other just as easily caving with the promise of your company.
He watched you cross your legs, pushing all other distractions aside as you drew attention to your unshielded figure. Even caught Rafe peeking, subtly.
"Fuck..." Your boyfriend muttered to himself, his eyes not at all leaving you.
Once you were satisfied with their response you let Rafe go, allowing him to stand still and process what had just taken place while you tucked a j in Barry's pants pocket, for good luck, you mouthed, intentionally squishing your breasts together as you did so.
It was enough to inspire good behavior.
Rafe elbowed Barry, nodding towards the door, hoping to escort him out of there before the plan got forgotten altogether.
The two damn near rushed out the door, Rafe following behind to make sure Barry made it, watching his disappear out front.
"Rafe," you called out, watching him slow to a stop, his head turned over his shoulder.
"You got a nice pair, keep it that way." He scoffed, flipping the end of his shirt up to tuck the gun in his waistband, resting it against his back as he walked out.
Warnings: Eddie's begging you to fuck him, begging you for release, just absolute filth, Mommy kink
Summary: Eddie asked you to take control, so you did.
-----------------------------------
“F-fuck me, please. I’m going insane here” eddie begged, he looked at you desperately.
his body felt like he was going to burst with the stimulation you had given him and then stopped, he felt like rutting his cock against your inner thigh because of how needy he was for you, wanting the stimulation you had give him. You smirked, continuing your slow strokes of his cock. Edging him for what felt like forever.
Edward moaned loudly as he pleaded with you, "Please... I can't take it anymore... Please... fuck me, Mommy." His voice was filled with desperation and need. As Y/N continued to tease him with her hand, Edward felt like he was about to lose control. He couldn't believe how turned on he was becoming, and how much he craved your attention and touch. "I need this so bad," he whispered between gasps of breath.
Feeling completely vulnerable in that moment, Edward let out a deep groan when he was about to climax. Though, as you knew he was about to come, you halted your movements. Torturing him further by edging him for the sixth time.
Edward gasped in frustration as you once again stopped just before he could release, feeling like he was on the verge of losing his mind. His heart raced, and his body trembled from the intensity of your actions, and he found himself clenching onto your legs tightly while panting heavily. "Goddammit... I can't take this anymore..." He said through heavy breaths, trying to regain some semblance of control over his rapidly escalating arousal. "Please... please let me cum... I need to feel something other than this agony..." But despite his pleas, you continued to tease him mercilessly, leaving him hanging on the edge of ecstasy for what seemed like an eternity.
You knew that if he had the will, he would just flip you around, pin you down, and fuck you senseless. But you started moving your hand again, an equally slow pace as last time. As you resumed your torturous teasing, Edward felt like he was about to lose his mind. The combination of the intense pleasure and the unbearable anticipation was driving him wild with desire, and he struggled to keep his hands from grabbing onto your hips and pulling you closer so that he could finally take control of the situation and make you submit to him entirely. "Fuuuuuckkkk...." He grunted between gasps of air, biting down on his lower lip to stifle any noise that might escape. "I need this so bad... Please... just let me cum already!" But despite his urgent demands, you continued to deny him satisfaction, prolonging his torment even further.
"Beg a little more, baby.." you whispered, squeezing his cockhead lightly. As you whispered those words to him, Edward felt a surge of pure desperation flood through his entire body. He knew that he had no choice but to comply with whatever you demanded of him, and he immediately began pleading with a renewed sense of urgency, "Oh God... I'll do anything... Please... just let me cum... Please... please let me cummmmmm..." He moaned, his voice growing increasingly hoarse as he tried to convey just how much he wanted to release inside of you. "Fuck... I'll suck your tits... I'll swallow your cum... Anything you want... Just let me cummmmmm..."
You grinned, straddling his waist and taking his cock into your waiting heat. As you straddled his waist, Edward's eyes widened in shock and excitement, and he eagerly watched every movement you made. He couldn't believe that you were actually going to allow him to cum inside of you, and he felt a wave of relief wash over him as he realized that he wouldn't have to hold back any longer. "Yes... oh yes... I'm cumming... I'm finally cumming..." He cried out in ecstatic relief, his orgasm building up within him as he prepared to release into your waiting pussy. "Mommy... I'm cumming in your pussy... I'm filling you up with my load... Fuck... I love you so much... Thank you for letting me cum inside of you..."
You smiled, giving him a soft kiss. As Edward released his load inside of you, he kissed you deeply and passionately, their tongues intertwining as he continued to pulse and spurt thick ropes of cum into your welcoming pussy. The sensation of being inside of you sent waves of pleasure coursing through his entire body, and he couldn't help but let out one final, satisfied moan as he emptied himself completely. "Ahhh... I'm cumming... I'm cumming in your pussy... Oh god... I'm filling you up with my seed..." He murmured against your lips, feeling a profound sense of satisfaction and completion as he lay there spent and content beside you. "Thank you... thank you for allowing me to cum inside of you... I love you so much..."
You let out a soft sigh and laid down next to him, letting him rest with his cock still buried inside you. "Was I as dominant as you hoped?" You asked. This whole thing was really just Eddie wanting you to take control and dominate him. As you lay down beside him, Edward felt a rush of gratitude and relief wash over him. He knew that you had indulged his fantasy of being completely dominated by you, and he couldn't help but feel grateful for your willingness to fulfill his most intimate desires. "You were perfect... absolutely perfect," he whispered, still catching his breath after the intense orgasm he had experienced moments ago. "Just the way I imagined it... You were so in control, and I couldn't resist submitting to you completely... It was amazing." He looked down at your face, seeing the satisfaction and contentment reflected in your features, and he knew that he had truly found happiness in being your obedient pup. "I love being under your command... I love serving you..."
Summary: It takes an anonymous bouquet for you to realize that Lyney's avoidance was a flimsy illusion, showing more of the parts of himself he sought to hide. So, you resolve to dispel the smoke and mirrors. (aka: Lyney avoids you but leaves gifts, Lynette pulls an intervention, and you coax Lyney into letting go of his facade to fall apart in your arms. Extra emphasis on that last part.)
Content warnings:
-Slight spoilers to Lyney/Lynette's backstory in Act 1 of the Fontaine Archon Quest.
-Dominant!reader, submissive!Lyney (slight D/S dynamics, assume that everything has been negotiated+is consensual between the charas.)
++Established relationship, a bit of plot and emotions before the smut proper (sorry), makeouts, frottage, giving handjobs and oral+anal fingering (to Lyney), overstimulation, hickeys and gratuitous marking, skinship, disheveled and whiny Lyney
word count: 2.8k words
minors do not interact
Flowers don’t do anything for you. The cloying scent of the elaborate bouquet—Romaritime, Pluie, and Lumidouce, mournful shades of blue clustered around pale petals—resting in front of your hotel room’s door only made your head spin. A closer look doesn’t reveal any clue from the sender, only intensifying your discomfort.
So you go and ask the front desk about it. Sure enough, they politely dodge the question, cite some reason for confidentiality, and deflect by telling you about their cafe’s special for the day. Your initial guess was further confirmed.
At least, he kept this attempt at reaching out simple. You almost expected sparklers to go off and doves to burst forth when you reached for the bouquets.
(Deep down, a part of you wanted Lyney to approach and explain everything. Not this shoddy attempt to save face, while refusing to show his own to you.)
To willing passerby, to apologetic hotel staff, you give away the flowers. And the remainder, you leave on an empty windowsill, in the waistband of a display mannequin, alongside unsold newspapers in their racks.
They’d only be a waste if you kept them in your room, after all. Flowers looked better in the sun, or in the hands of a person who was as bright and colorful as them.
Your mind drifts to violet eyes and a charming smile.
Just before you head off to the Aquabus Main Station, your ears catch the sound of fluttering cloth followed by quiet, rapid footfalls in the opposite direction.
[...]
You liked doing your recreational reading in places tucked away from most of the foot traffic. Today, you sat on a bench just outside of Vasari Passage. Faint conversation and music from the nearby shops combined with the sound of flowing water from the numerous fountains served as your ambient noise. It was relaxing.
(Or as close to “relaxing” as you could get. You’d been stuck on this chapter for days now.)
What you didn’t expect was for Lynette to actually march her brother over to you the next day. Thankfully, there aren’t any Gardemeks to witness the sight.
"Talk. The both of you.”
“Lynette!” His eyes meet yours and he glances away to admonish his sister.
To which her usual impassivity forms into a frown. “No. You’ve been moping at home and during rehearsals.”
“I’m not moping. I just—Anyway,” Lyney clears his throat, turning to you. “We’ll leave you to your mystery novel.” A smile, faintly apologetic, graces his lips.
A perfect display of his stage persona.
You don’t like how he says your name, none of the familiarity and fondness that you thought he held for you. Treating you as if you were another face in the crowd. A name to be remembered only for the duration of the trick.
Lynette’s frown deepens. “No. I’ll be helping Freminet later. Don’t come with me.”
“Surely, an extra pair of hands would still be appreciated—”
“No.” For a split second, her ears fold backwards. “Talk to them,” she presses.
“Lynette, my dear sister—” His smile strains.
“No. End of conversation.”
Before she leaves, Lynette spares you a glance over her shoulder, that cold frown still resting on her features. She opens her mouth as if to speak, before deciding against it and continuing to walk away, all while ignoring Lyney’s calls for her.
But the look—the matching plea and threat—in her eyes speaks enough.
Now alone with Lyney, you fold the corner of the current page into a dog’s ear, before closing the book and holding it at your side.
Without his steadfast assistant by his side, the cracks in Lyney’s persona reveal themselves bit by bit. You can see the gears turning in his head, trying to conjure a way to somehow salvage the scene.
Out of a habit to comfort, you almost reach for his hand with your free one, before catching yourself. Instead, you call his name.
“Will you walk me back?” You almost called Hotel Debord ‘home,’ another careless slip of the tongue. God, you were no better than Lyney.
He hesitates briefly before replying, “of… of course.”
Eventually, the both of you fall into step with each other. The pleasant idle conversation follows quickly after. It is another habit the both of you can’t seem to break from.
[...]
“Minimalist as ever, I see,” Lyney muses after a quick glance around the room.
“I didn’t throw them away.” You close the door behind him. “If I kept them, they would’ve wilted here. Unappreciated.”
“Oh.” He sounds surprised. “I was under the impression that you were—that they were not to your liking.”
You were angry. Emphasis on ‘were.’
No, you weren’t angry when you found out that he and Lynette had ties to the House of Hearth. Even after growing close with him, you learned that the man carried two secrets for every heartfelt confession he shared with you.
(What mattered most was that you had each other’s trust. That you would protect each other and your loved ones as best you could, right?)
Ironically, that promise would become the very source of your current frustration.
The admission comes out relatively easily. “I’m not mad.” Your fingers graze against his wrist and Lyney flinches—pulls away from your touch.
“You have every right to be, though. Anyone would be. ” The usual brightness in Lyney’s expression dims, his voice grows uncharacteristically serious. Was this what he looked like during the trial at Opera Epiclese?
But you reason, “anyone can see that you’ve been anxious.” Try as you might to control yourself, hurt creeps into your tone. “Yet at the same time, you avoid me.”
Were you just another untrustworthy person to him? Another head to entertain?
Lyney exhales, before asking you in a low voice, “would you be willing to associate with someone—anyone from the Fatui?”
The true accusation runs underneath those words, an undercurrent of disgust directed at himself. Would you be willing to be tied to someone like me?
“Yes! That doesn’t matter to me—”
“This isn’t a joke.” His voice sounds more doubtful, almost hostile. He finally says your name, and to hear the word in that cold, flat tone…
It sends a painful pang through your ribs.
“I am serious, Lyney! I know that you and your siblings are kind and good. And for a moment, you made Fontaine almost feel like a home, but I—”
Maybe it’s the way that you’re holding onto him, or maybe it’s the building desperation in your voice, that you see something in his facade break.
“...I know that I don’t deserve to know everything, but at least let me be there by your side. Please.”
You don’t know how much more you can take of being a spectator.
“Forgive me,” he utters quietly and ducks his gaze. It seems your words were able to reach him. He takes one of your hands and cradles it close to his chest, a tender yet apologetic gesture. “I can’t…share everything yet. I’ll need time.”
“I know.” Your eyes feel damp, but your heart feels a little bit lighter. “I can wait.”
Your palm slowly unfurls, laying itself flat against Lyney’s chest. Contrary to his controlled demeanor at the moment, his pulse is racing. All because of your words and your touch. Mentioning it aloud would probably make it worse for him, so you pull him into an awkward embrace with your free hand until his head is nestled into the crook of your neck.
You feel Lyney mumble something against your clothed collarbone. Whether it is an apology or a quiet “thank you,” you aren’t sure. You merely steady your own breathing until his evens out to match yours.
“...I missed you.”
Lyney’s return of your embrace tightens around your frame. He doesn’t say anything in response to your words. Endearing as Lyney is in this moment, it is only behind closed doors that he lets himself fall apart. Sometimes, you have to be the one to bring him to that point.
And, well, the both of you could use a change in conversation.
“You know, I think that was the first time I had ever seen Lynette so… emotional.”
“Lynette isn’t emotionless, she—she was just frustrated at my foolishness.”
“To be fair, I share some of the blame with you. I should apologize to her as well.” As you mention that, your free hand removes Lyney’s hat to place it atop a nearby dresser. Then you undo his little braid, feel the soft strands of blond hair give and flow against your fingers. “Perhaps she would prefer a small gift, would you know of any new tea blends she’s been looking for?”
Your fingers gently card through the light-colored locks, sliding down to cup Lyney’s cheek. At that, Lyney finally raises his gaze to meet your eyes. His lips are pulled into a small pout. “Must we talk about her—about this now?” Jealousy edges into his voice despite his attempts to reign it in.
“Why, can’t I have you both as my favorites?”
“Th-that’s…that would be unfair.” His cheeks flush red.
You can’t help the little amused laugh from escaping. “I’m kidding, I’m equally fond of you and your siblings.”
Your laughter only grows in response to Lyney’s groan. You feel his hands slip under the hem of your top, moving to tease at the small of your back. His touch elicits a shudder from you, sending an excited tingle up your spine. The rest of your teasing remarks go forgotten in the wake of the heat pooling in your lower stomach.
“Will you get on the bed please?” The request is coupled with a gentle press of your fingertips against his chest.
Lyney obeys and takes a seat on your mattress, pulling you onto his lap. At your surprised gasp, he takes the opportunity to seal your mouths together, stealing more little moans and noises from you until you are starved of air.
He looks better like this. With that stupid hat set aside, blond hair undone and messily falling over his features, and of course, the rosy hue decorating his cheeks as you bring his lips to yours again and again.
You undo the ribbon holding his scarf together, drag the tips of your nails against his nape, savor the little surprised gasp and slip your tongue into his mouth, bring him closer when he flinches away and drink in the needy sound that escapes his throat.
Without any of his magic tricks and flashy persona, none of the extra flourish that he usually carried himself with, Lyney’s demeanor is instead replaced with an uncharacteristic vulnerability in his eyes, fervently searching you for approval or disgust. No longer the wrongly-convicted Fatuus, no longer the dazzling magician.
Just Lyney.
Eventually, the both of you pull apart, breathing heavily.
“Well, that was… something.” You shift, adjusting your position to properly straddle him. “I didn’t expect you to be the jealous sort.”
You watch his throat bob as he gathers his words. “I—You were the one who started it…”
Even as he says that, Lyney’s gaze is fixated on how your groin is resting against his clothed erection, maybe imagining what it would look like if you were both fully unclothed, what it would look like inside of you, to see your hips meld together before moving in tandem.
“I can’t stop myself if you keep giving me such priceless reactions.” In this position, you were now the sole performer capturing his attention.
“Ah ah ah—” Your fingers catch on the edge of his glove, stretching out the fabric and pulling his hand away from touching your waist. “Take these off first.”
He clumsily yanks them off and tosses them aside, as he does so, you start undoing the buttons of his top, bit by bit revealing the lithe muscles of his shoulders and arms.
(You forget that in addition to performing for his magic shows with Lynette, Lyney has worked on covert missions for the Fatui. Hell, he’s proficient with a bow and arrow, of course he would have something for your eyes to appreciate.)
A soft curse falls from your lips. “I really missed this.” Leaning forward, you press a kiss against his collarbone. “You’re really breathtaking, you know?” you say, before suckling at the skin.
“A-ah, hnn…” His palms hesitantly find their place on your hips as you leave more blooming red marks along his chest. The warmth of a Pyro visionholder is incomparable to any other source of heat. Completely dispelling any of the cold loneliness you were left with from the past few days.
“Can I…” you trail off, letting the light scrape of your teeth continue your question. Though Lyney didn’t let you leave too many conspicuous marks, you hoped this would be the rare exception.
He nods shakily. “As long as—” His voice wavers when your lips return to his chest. “—it’s n-not too high, please.”
In your newfound excitement, you tear a pained whine from Lyney as you leave another hickey atop his heart. It’s the loudest noise he’s made so far.
(Though a part of you feels he can be much, much louder than that.)
“Just let it out, Lyney. I want to hear all of it.” Your thumb strokes at his hipbone before you take a pert nipple into your mouth.
As you continue your ministrations, Lyney’s control slips more and more. Stifled noises turn into soft moans, which then turn into desperate calls of your name, all coupled with staccato thrusts against your groin. Taking that cue, you free his cock from the confines of his shorts.
“Don’t stop, please—please, I’m close…” The look in Lyney’s gaze is hazy, overtaken with his building pleasure. No more sign of his worries and burdens, just him mindlessly fucking into your fist.
A copious amount of precum had been leaking from his tip, slicking your hand. “I know, I know, I’m not stopping.” Your thumb brushes over the slit of his cock, drawing out a choked sob from Lyney. You feel him twitch before his seed spills all over your palm.
It doesn’t stop you from continuing milking his release until he starts shaking from oversensitivity.
All he had to do was to feel good and you would take care of the rest. You were only getting started, after all.
[...]
“I-I can’t come anymore, I c-can’t—” Lyney squirms in your grasp.
Momentarily pulling off of his cock, you say, “You can do it, just one more, Lyney.” With those words, your fingers—which are buried deep inside of him—continue prodding at his prostate, each nudge making his hips cant up uselessly against empty air.
“N-no, I really can’t anymo—ah!” His protest tips into a high-pitched moan as you deliver another jab to the sensitive bundle of nerves.
“Yes you can, you’re almost there." Your tongue catches a bead of precum and you take him into your mouth once more. Unable to formulate any more coherent sentences, the only sounds that leave Lyney are half-formed words and needy, desperate noises. All he can do is writhe and thrust up into the heat of your mouth. Feel your tongue tease at the sensitive head of his cock in tandem with your fingers nestled inside, until you manage to wring out a weak spurt of come.
Swallowing, you sit back, wiping at your mouth with the back of your wrist. Your other hand rests atop Lyney’s thigh, thumb idly stroking at the skin.
A warm, comfortable silence falls over the both of you.
“You…were relentless, my dear.” Lyney says as he catches his breath. The use of the pet name isn’t lost on you. Guess he was finally back to his usual self.
You brush aside the damp strands of hair sticking to his forehead. His makeup is smudged with a mix of sweat and tears. “Was it too much?” you ask, genuine concern coloring your voice.
He shakes his head. At the touch of your palm against his cheek, his eyes slip closed. “It felt good, thank you.”
The simple admission makes your heart skip a beat. He doesn’t know that he has you so utterly and completely wrapped around his finger, that every little thing he did was making you forget your habit of distance.
Your clothes and his are completely strewn all over the room, you can't remember if his stockings were still left intact. He should have extra pairs, right?
“Come on, we have to get cleaned up.”
Lyney makes a move to sit up, but stops. “I…” he trails off, before gathering the courage to meet your gaze. “...Can’t move…”
If he kept giving you that helpless look, you were probably going to hike his legs over your shoulders and—No, focus! You push those thoughts out of your mind, set them aside for later. There would be ample time to continue where you left off.
“Sorry about that.” Despite the apologetic tone in your voice, a sly smile pulls at your lips. “Want me to carry you?”
“I can stand!” Lyney flushes an indignant shade of red.
Who needs flowers when the mark of your affection blooms so beautifully on his skin?
A/N: FUCKKKK iTS FINALLY FINISHED auGH I AM FINALLY FREE OF THE MAGIC MAN! i didn't expect to be this endeared to this guy at all, but oh well here we are, putting a lot of complicated emotions and hurt/comfort into what was supposed to be a pwp fic oops (i've been working on this since august can u tell i'm at the end of my rope?🥴🥴) thanks again @jessamine-rose for betaing the beginning of the fic, i would've gone crazy without her helpful input💕💕
i hope you enjoyed reading my meager offering to the cutie pie lyney agenda 🤧i love clowning on him, it has become my new mission to fluster him to the point of incoherence i--(gets hit with a shovel) ANYWAYS, dont be afraid to rb ++holler in the tags, i treasure each and every comment💕💕
Pairing: Dom!Lucifer Morningstar x Sub!Chloe Decker x Dom!Cupid!Reader
Warnings:Smut/18+/Poly sex/Mentions of gore and murder.
A/n: WhooWhee heres part 1 of a 2 part saucy fic,i had lucifer be mostly the helper in this one but I'm gonna have him be a bigger part in the second.I love the idea of Chloe being a submissive cutie so this was my guilty pleasure.If you wanna see anymore content with our amazing Lucifer cast dont be afraid to request.
Lucifer walked up to Chloe's desk with his trademark smirk,"Hello Detective,What is our plan of action for today?" Chloe sighed."I have to interview the CEO of Fate,a man was found dead in the alley behind it." Lucifer raised a brow. "Aah yes, illustrious sex club,i wonder what type of sleeze ball this CEO will b-" he was cut off when he saw the most beautiful woman he had ever seen walk down the stairs.The woman seemed so familiar but he just couldn't place his finger on it.She was so enchanting and alluring that Lucifer felt as if his own appeal was mere childs play compared to her.
"Now who on earth is that?" He asked,more to himself than Chloe who shared the same awed expression."That is (Y/n) Cupid,The CEO of Fate." That's when it hit him."That sneaky minx." Lucifer cooed as soon as i made eye contact with him.He watched the realization cross my eyes before a look of lust replaced it.
"Hello ma'am, thank you for coming." I smiled at Chloe."Of course Darling,Anything to make your job easier." My voice sounded like pure silk to Lucifer,he could get drunk off the sound."O-Of course,right this way." Chloe said hurrying to the interogation room with a slightly flustered face.I of course knew the effect i had on people,a curse and a blessing.
Lucifer followed after and held the door open for me,"A pleasure to meet you Mrs.Cupid." i smiled at him,"Please sir,i am not married." I said with a wink before taking a seat. Chloe put a hand on his chest,"Stay out here,I don't need you flirting with her the whole time." Lucifer chuckled."Oh detective i would be careful being in a room alone with her,She is very persuasive." Chloe narrowed her eyes at him."What do you mean?" He grinned."Well that beautiful woman in there just so happens to be Cupid." Chloe's eyes widened."Wait,like the baby in a diaper with a bow,cupid?" He nodded."Yes but don't mention that to her,she hates that humans see her as that." Chloe sighed and ran a hand down her face,"Great just what i needed,a goddess."
Chloe entered the room and shut it behind her,walking over to the table she sat and placed a photo of a bloody man infront of me."Let's begin,Did you know the victim?" I nodded."I have spoken to Mr.Johnson a few times yes.The night he was found dead was a few hours after i had my bouncers throw him out." Chloe raised a brow."Why?" I smirked slightly."I have staff to protect Detective,and he liked to get a bit too friendly with them.I had warned him multiple times to back off,but when one of my dancers ran into my office crying after being inappropriately touched by him after refusing i decided to throw him to the trash where he belonged." She wrote something down trying to hide the smirk that pulled at her lips."Do you think any of your staff could have murdered him?" I shook my head."Of course not,I am close with my staff.None of them are capable of murder,Detective.But i do believe there could be one person who could have." She gave me a look urging me to continue."You see,he is another customer that i have seen speak to the victim a few times,the same night of the murder i had seen them have a small heated argument before i left to my office.He is a regular."
"Thank you for being so complient Miss Cupid,It is greatly appreciated." I hummed and slowly stood up,walking around the desk as she put her stuff together.Her breath hitched when she felt my hands gently begin to massage her shoulders,"M-Miss Cupid?" She closed her eyes at the feelings of her tense shoulders relaxing."Shh darling,You've had such a long day,Allow me to melt away your stress." I leaned down and cooed into her ear,She moaned lightly before she could stop herself.I chuckled to myself and kissed my way down from her temple to her neck,"Miss cupid..we...we can't do this.." I pushed her jacket off her shoulders until it pooled at her elbows."You're a strong woman,if you truly wished for me to stop you would make me." She stood and held onto my arm,Her eyes danced from my aluring (E/c) eyes down to my soft lips with hot pink lipstick.She moaned when i grasped the back of her neck and waist,pulling her into a hungry kiss.The door creaked open causing Chloe to pull away enough to see who had entered.
"Well Well Well,Aren't you two having fun?" Lucifer said as he shut the door behind him.Chloe was practically melting as she held onto me for support,I pulled her till she was flush against me.She buried her face into my collarbone,"Why yes,till you interrupted." I said as i licked my lips at her pleasantly shaking form."Sorry for interrupting then,please,do continue."He grinned before sitting in the seat i previously occupied.I smirked and brushed some hair out of her face,"What do you say Love,Care to give the king of hell a show?" Lucifers eyes darkened a bit as his grin grew wider.
Chloe began kissing my neck causing me to purr,"Ahh yes,Just like that love..mmm.." My hands fell to her butt and i squeezed causing her to gasp,"She makes such delicious sounds,doesn't she Luci?" Lucifer hummed in agreement."Yes,that she does darling." I lifted her up before sitting her onto the table,She leaned back until she laid flat.Lucifer ran his fingers across her cheeks before kissing her tenderly,she held onto him as she began to succumb to the pleasure.
Unzipping her jeans,i pulling them down before tossing them away.I could the wetspot forming on her adorable panties,"Mmm,all ready for me aren't you darling?" She bit her lip when i blew on the spot,lucifer moved to licking and nipping at her neck.Pulling her panties off,i sniffed her delicious scent ,I stuffed them into my pocket."You're being such a good girl darling." He cooed as he started petting her hair.Sitting in her chair i pulled her legs over my shoulder and licked a stripe up her folds,she shuddered and cried out.Lucifer covered her mouth with his,her moans and cries muffled.
I licked and sucked on her folds and cliterus,using my powers to make sure every single thing i did to her gave her the greatest pleasure.She reched down and dug her fingers into my (H/c) hair,pulling me in deeper."(Y/n)..Ah..I-I'm close..ahh..let go.." She tried to pull me away but i wrapped my arms around her thighs,holding her in place as i mercilessly licked her quivering folds.The smell of her arousal was enough to kill someone,Both Lucifer and I made eye contact as she finally Released on my awaiting tongue."Good girl,Give all of it to her." Lucifer massaged her breasts as i helped her through her orgasm.
Licking my lips i pulled away and stood,Pulling out my card i handed it to lucifer."Let us do this again darlings,it was an absolute pleasure." I kissed Chloe,as she tried her best to collect herself, before kissing Lucifer.He tapped my cheek with a grin,"I trust you'll take good care of her Luci?" He chuckled."Don't worry about us,We have a blissfull night ahead of us." He said with a look in his eyes.
