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Warnings: Brief mention of sex
Disclaimer: English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes.
I wish you all a good read!
When your father told you that you would be going to King's Landing and marrying Prince Aerion, you weren't exactly thrilled about the idea. You knew you should be grateful for such a good match, but you were afraid to leave Winterfell, your home. You had always imagined yourself growing old in the North, married to a northern man from another noble house.
But now, moons later, you were glad your father had arranged this marriage. You are happy with Aerion.
When you first met him, you didn't know exactly what to expect—the truth is, the ladies and maids of the court didn't help calm your nerves and uncertainty when they told you to be careful around him while they were preparing you for your wedding—but Aerion had surprised you. During your wedding, he had asked the singers and musicians to play northern songs. You danced together for much of the celebration, and he showed you the artist he hired to take portraits of the two of you during the celebration. But Aerion completely won you over when he defended you from a lord who was getting a little too handsy during the bedroom celebration.
Oh, and your wedding night also held a pleasant surprise. You were afraid he'd go straight to the point and treat this solely as his duty to produce his heir. You were also afraid he'd be too rough and hurt you. But Aerion took his time with you and made you feel things you never imagined you could feel.
Aerion had shown you how a man could please a woman with just his mouth. He had spent what felt like hours with his head between your thighs, savoring your flower until he was satisfied, then kissed you with your arousal still on his lips. You kissed again and again as he prepared you with his fingers until he thought you were ready to take his cock. He whispered compliments, like how beautiful you looked to him and how lucky he was to have you all to himself, promising to make you feel good as he entered you.
The next day, you didn't understand why the maids looked at you with concern when they came to help you get ready for your day. Yes, Aerion had left many love bites all over your body, but you didn't see anything wrong with it. He hadn't been rough with you.
You thought that with time, the people at court would stop staring at you so much. You believed it was because your northern dresses were different and more salvaged than those of the court. Also, your northern accent was too strong. You thought that perhaps that drew people's attention, but you had no idea that the real reason for their stares was that they couldn't believe how happy you looked with Prince Aerion.
For the noblewomen of the court and the servants, it felt surreal to see you strolling through the halls, your arm linked with Aerion's. To see the two of you laughing and kissing as if you were a normal couple. Perhaps people wouldn't be so shocked if it were another man, but everyone had seen how cruel the prince could be. That's why, during the first weeks of your marriage, your maids kept asking if you were alright while discreetly searching for any bruises, until they saw you were becoming irritated and stopped.
It didn't go unnoticed that since Aerion married you, he no longer seemed to cause nearly as much trouble as before. He didn't look for any excuse to punish or mock the servants or other nobles.
Some began to think that perhaps you were what Aerion had always needed. A loving wife to soothe the monster.
King Daeron also noticed the change in his troubled grandson, so in the middle of a family dinner, he innocently remarked that he was glad he had chosen you as Aerion's bride instead of Prince Valarr or Prince Daeron, as he had initially considered.
You were surprised. Perhaps you were too caught up in your own head because you didn't notice the discomfort and tension at the table.
"It's unfair. Why didn't you ask me? I would have liked to have such a beautiful wife," Daeron said, clearly joking, trying to lighten the mood.
You laughed, knowing it was just a simple joke.
But Aerion didn't find it funny.
After that scene, you saw the change in your husband. You noticed how Aerion now seemed more aggressive in the yard when training with Valarr, how he seemed to look for any excuse to make a tasteless comment or a "joke" to his cousin or brother, as if he wanted to prove to everyone, especially you, that they were inferior to him. You didn't like it. He had never shown you this side of himself before. You hated seeing this attitude in Aerion.
You reached your breaking point after seeing Daeron's sad expression when Aerion made a joke about him potentially choking on his own vomit from drinking so much at dinner. That's why, as soon as you two returned to your shared quarters, you confronted your husband directly.
“You have to stop. Right now,” you said firmly, your eyes never leaving his. Your gaze was icy, mimicking the look your father had whenever he judged someone.
For the first time, you weren't looking at him like a sweet girlfriend, but like a Stark ready to fight.
“Stop what?” the prince asked, still somewhat surprised by your attitude. He didn't recall ever seeing you look at someone like that during your entire stay.
“Ever since your grandfather mentioned he considered marrying me off to Valarr and Daeron, you've been acting like an idiot. You're mean to everyone for no reason,” you said, crossing your arms, your annoyance evident in your voice.
“I…”
“But nothing,” you interrupted, not wanting to hear excuses. “The way you've been acting lately, instead of making me think well of you, is only ruining the image I had of you.” Your words left him speechless.
Aerion didn't want to lose your affection. He had worked hard all these moons to show you his good and charming side to win you over. He didn't want to lose all the progress you had made together, and he let himself be carried away by his anger and jealousy.
“I’m sorry, my lady. You’re right, my actions were terrible,” he said, because he knew it was the right thing to say and what his wife expected him to say, as he approached you, wanting to close the distance between you.
“I can forgive you, but I won’t yet,” you said, though you allowed him to put his arm around your waist. “Your attitude offended me deeply. You don’t need to boast or try to improve yourself in my eyes by humiliating other men, your family. I’m your wife now, my eyes are only for you,” you said seriously, taking his chin in your hand. “Remember that next time you’re tempted to be an idiot, I’m yours now.”
Aerion can't help but smile when he hears you call yourself his. Even so, he starts thinking about getting you a necklace with his initial. He was glad to know you were clear that you belonged to him, but he needed men to understand that too.
"I'll remember it," he promises, and kisses you. You barely manage to resist before melting in his arms.
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The air feels thick and heavy. The Chapel reeks of sex. People I pass by every day are bent over pews, spread wide open, bare and dripping with sweat. I pity the poor bastard in charge of cleaning up tomorrow. The cacophony of moans and the slapping of dozens of skins made it hard to think straight, the deafening, discordant mixture of sounds reverberating off the walls, echoing obscenely. But of all the wet and willing people there, I was only here for one in particular. Perpetua.
I've had a thing for him for quite a while now, since he was first sworn into the Papacy. I locked eyes with him during the ceremony, and since then, I've been smitten. He was a mysterious one, that's for sure, never speaking more than a few words to me at a time, but his gaze on me lingered for just a bit too long before he left the room. Even after all this time, I couldn't tell if he felt the same way, or if his eyes were lying to me. I intended on finding that out tonight. At the very least, maybe I could get a quick fuck.
I could see him now, though I expected him to be enjoying himself within an eager Sibling of Sin (or two) by now. I didn't expect him to be still mostly clothed, reclining in an arm chair, pants unbuttoned just enough to take some pressure off of his erection. He swished around a glass of red wine, just watching it all unfold for the most part, occasionally handing out more condoms or lube to other patrons in need, or glancing at his phone to check the time. If watching was all he wanted to do, then I'll try your damndest to put on one hell of a show for him.
Before today, I had never been to an orgy before. Usually I'd be spending my Valentine's Day drowning myself in cheap wine, eating a tub of ice cream while a comfort show played quietly in the background, turning it into a 'self care day' to distract myself from my lack of a sex life. So needless to say, this was way outside of my comfort zone. One thing I knew for sure was that I probably shouldn't still have my clothes on.
Feeling out of place, I began to undress, growing progressively less nervous with the less clothes I had on. No one had turned their gaze to me yet, too caught up in everything else going on to even notice I was there, which somehow made me feel better. But at some point I'm going to have to jump right in and make a move, right? How daunting. Luckily I didn't need to. Standing there, naked and shivering, looking around the room dumbly, I stuck out like a sore thumb, and caught the eye of a Brother of Sin I had met maybe once or twice before, now headed in my direction. I swear I knew his name, but I'm completely blanking on it now that I'm seeing him completely nude, casually waving at me as if his dick wasn't still leaking onto the floor of the room I say my daily prayers in.
"First time?" He asked, though I could hardly hear him over the sound of furniture squeaking. I nodded.
"Y-yeah. Well, not my 'first time', period, heh...!" I laughed nervously. "Like, OBVIOUSLY I've had sex before, just not... I mean... i-it's just my first orgy, yeah..." He bit the inside of his cheek to hold back a smile, politely nodding along to whatever bullshit was spilling out of my mouth.
"I know what you meant." He coughed, clearly hiding a snicker. "It's a lot to take in for a newbie, I know... No pun intended. But y'know, Papa's handing out condoms over there..." He pointed in his direction. "And if you want somebody to help you get started, well..." He confidently gestured to himself, waving his hands down his torso, which I will admit, was quite chiseled. He wasn't exactly what I was looking for here, but that's not to say I didn't find him attractive. He'll do for now. I bit my lip. "Lead the way, then." I purred.
We approached Perpetua mid-sip, choking on his wine the second he laid eyes on me. "Sister." He coughed, playing it off smoothly. "I didn't expect to see you here."
"A pleasant surprise, I hope." I smiled. He nodded slowly, looking lost in thought. "You bet." He said under his breath. I could've sworn I saw his cock twitch as he spoke. My 'date' spoke up. "Papa, pass me a rubber, would you?" He stuck his hand out expectantly. Perpetua finally glanced in his direction, as if he didn't even notice him at first. Once he did, I saw a flicker of annoyance in his eyes, looking him up and down before begrudgingly placing a condom in his hand. The packaging read, 'ribbed for her pleasure.' How thoughtful.
I picked the pew closest to Perpetua, making sure he got the most intimate view of this as possible. I could feel his gaze still on me, but pretended not to notice as I laid back, legs spread and ready. The guy (I swear I'll remember his name eventually) fumbled with himself as he lazily rolled the condom on, not waiting another second before sliding into me. The lack of foreplay was disappointing, but not surprising. The dry stretch of my walls made me wince at first; I mean, the guy barely gave me enough time to get going! Eventually, with a little spit and some prayer, it started to actually feel... alright. Not great, not bad, just... alright.
I was playing up most of my moans, getting a bit obnoxious with how loud I was being, as if I was having the time of my life, as if I couldn't at all do better than this with my hands. I think Perpetua could tell I was faking, too. I could see him out of the corner of my eye, looking at me with an eyebrow cocked and his free hand conveniently covering his junk. My fingers danced across my flesh, trailing down my sternum and to my nipples, twisting and playing with them. The pleasured noises I was making were actually real this time, little gasps and whimpers escaping my puffed lips as my fingertips twirled across the sensitive buds. Perpetuas jaw clenched.
My plan was working, but barely. I had to escalate. With one hand still toying with myself, I used the other to grab the guy I was with by the hair, pulling him down for a sloppy, depraved kiss. Our tongues battled each other ruthlessly, the combined drool dribbling down my cheek. "You're so big." I groaned into the kiss, hopefully loud enough for a certain someone to hear. That was a lie, of course. I mean, there was nothing particularly wrong with his length. It was fine, but just fine, nothing more. It didn't reach as deep as I wanted it to, didn't hit the spot I so desperately wanted it to hit.
And just like that, he was finished. One more pump, and it all came spilling out, releasing a quiet exhale as he, well, released. I could hardly believe it. He led me to think he was a seasoned veteran in the world of orgies, and that was it? He panted hotly in my ear. "Did you cum?" He rasped. You're kidding me. I just hummed and nodded, whatever ends this awkward interaction the fastest. He smiled like he accomplished something and pulled out, tossing the condom in the nearest trashcan as he left me there. "See you at Mass tomorrow!" Was all he said before disappearing into the crowd.
I laid there for a moment, composing myself. So much for putting on a show, I thought to myself. That was five lousy minutes of my life I could've spent eating a pint of Rocky Road in my apartment. As I got up to leave, deciding to call this whole night a bust, I felt a gentle hand tap my shoulder. I looked up to see what (or who) I wanted all along; Perpetua, cock finally freed from its confines, pants long gone and head red and throbbing angrily. His expression was calm, though I could tell it was taking him great effort not to moan with every twitch of his manhood.
"Didn't you want to cum, doll?" He asked sincerely. I shuddered excitedly, gulping harshly against the lump forming in the back of my throat. "More than anything." I replied hoarsely. He smirked, falling to his knees and lowering his head down to my waist, his face hovering over my wet flesh like I was made of glass.
"May I do the honor?" He looked up at me with an almost pleading look in his eyes, breathing heavily, like he wanted to swallow me whole right there.
"Please."
His tongue darted out faster than I could have anticipated, delving deep within my folds, circling, prodding, and borderline fucking my hole with his mouth. The suddenness made my breath catch in my throat, emitting a strangled, gutteral sound I've never heard myself make before. I blushed, embarrassed, but he just kept going faster, deeper, like my moans were his fuel. He lapped up my wetness as if my cunt was a delicacy, like he's been desperate and starved of this moment his whole life. I pulled at his hair, reaching for something, anything to keep me stable, which just motivated him all the more, his low growls sending vibrations directly to my clit. I was already losing my mind, and I could tell he was too.
When I finally came, it was like the world had stopped, everything else around me frozen in time. My blurred vision made everything feel like it was in slow motion. I couldn't hear myself, I couldn't think, I couldn't control my own body. I might've lost consciousness for a bit there, but he brought me back down to reality just as quickly as he took me away, pressing light, yet unbelievably overstimulating kisses on my swollen clit. He only pulled off of me when I pushed his head back weakly, shaking with every movement.
While I recovered, he rolled a condom on, and waited. He waited until I caught my breath, till I could see straight, till every last shock wave had died down. He stood in between my legs, cock in hand, fingers wrapped tightly around the base, patiently waiting for permission. "Fuck me." I whispered. My walls welcomed him as he slid inside me, clenching and fluttering around his thickness. I was already stretched out before from my previous lackluster fucking, but this was much different. He was huge, filling me in ways I've never been filled before, hitting spots I didn't even know I had.
His thrusts were slow, gentle, yet firm. Unlike my previous encounter with Mr. No-Name, who preferred humping wildly until it was over before it even began. No, Perpetua took his time, like he wanted me to feel each individual stroke of his shaft, every little twitch. His body pressed against mine, his skin oddly frigid, but I didn't mind, especially not when a calloused hand reached over to rub my neglected clit, stroking me at the same pace he was fucking me. His other hand held my legs up, quickly hooking them over his shoulders, allowing him even deeper.
"You're so f-fucking... s-so much tighter than I imagined..." He huffed, head buried in the crook of my neck, biting and sucking at the tender flesh in between praises. His words went straight to my head, a wave of confidence, or more likely cockiness, washing over me.
"O-oh, yeah? S-so you're saying you've imagined this before?" I giggle deliriously. He grunts. "F-fuck. Yes. Is that so wrong?" I shake my head.
"M-me too." I admit. He hisses, his eyes scrunched tightly together in concentration, his cock kicking inside of me. I can feel it, he's getting close, but he's holding back. Holding back for my sake, or for his, I don't know, but all I do know is that he's desperate for release, and I intend to deliver. "How long have you fantasized about me, Papa? How long have you been wanting to fuck me?"
"D-don't make me answer that."
"Cmon, don't get shy on me. D-do you want me to tell you first? Do you wanna know how long I've wanted you?" He bites down on my neck, not too hard, but enough to make me gasp. He nods feverishly. "S-since your inauguration. When I first saw you in those fucking robes... Though I have to say, y-you look much better with nothing on at all." He whined sharply.
"Please."
"Please what, Papa?"
"Y-you're driving me insane, angel. If you k-keep talking like that, I'm gonna... oh, f-fuck...!" His body relaxed as he practically melted into me, thick, warm seed filling the condom, though part of me wished it was flooding my cunt instead. Fuck, just the thought of it, paired with the feeling of warmth through the thin rubber, his cock twitching violently, and his last meager thrusts hitting the back of my cervix just right, it was enough to spiral me into a second orgasm, even more world-ending than the first.
We shudder together, sweaty skin sticking together like glue as we cum in sync. He mutters something unintelligible, sounding like praises, a prayer, I'm not sure exactly. His mind is completely gone at this point, and so is mine. With neither of us being able to move, we lay together like this for a moment, half-asleep, until we can both come back down to earth. Perpetua is the first to speak, slurred, but clear enough for me to understand.
"S-shit. Felt so fucking good. No wonder Brother Angelo didn't last long..." He chuckled. Oh, so that was his name. Not that it matters now. I laughed, running my fingers through his dampened hair as he attempted to sit up straight.
"You never answered me, Papa." I smirk playfully.
"Hm?"
"How long have you wanted to do that?" He paused for a moment, like he was contemplating giving me the answer.
"Since my inauguration day. The second I saw you."
"What?!" I beam, surprised. "You too?" He nodded, grinning ear-to-ear. "We made eye contact from across the room. Don't you remember?" I nodded. "You looked so beautiful. And your habit was just a size or two too tight on you... It left nothing to the imagination." My cheeks went beet red.
Summary | Jackson gives Raymond an offer in exchange for freedom.
Warnings | Smut, dub con ish, slight dom/sub relationship, blow job, choking, humiliation, degradation, Jackson’s a dick as usual, idk.
Words | 1.5 k
Notes | Set in the In Time universe.
Ao3 link | <3
Masterlist
Commissioned by: @hllywdwhre
Jackson could be quite the sweet talker. He’s charmed the two of you out of bad situations more times than you could count, but you had no idea how he was going to get out of this…
“I like you, Mr. Leon. You don’t seem like someone who’s easily bought off, and I respect that.” He smiled, that charming expression that came naturally to him by now. “No, I’m not offering any time,”
“I’m not interested in anything you have to offer me.” Raymond said dryly, making Jackson raise his brows.
“Really? So you don’t want me and my partner here to leave New Greenwich and stay out of your hair?”
“Arresting you would get you out of my hair.” He countered smoothly. Jackson wasn’t discouraged though.
“It would. But then you wouldn’t get to experience my colleague’s other talents.” You turned to look at him then, but he didn’t react. “I respect your will, Raymond. Not many are so uninterested in plain bribery, but I’ve yet to meet a man uninterested in an offer like this.”
Raymond looked you up and down slowly, his gaze more critical than lustful. Just when you thought he’d refuse… “An offer like what?”
That made Jackson practically grin. “Her mouth. I’ve used it myself and can personally vouch for it.”
You practically choked on your spit at his bluntness. “Jackson,”
“Of course, you could still arrest us.” He told Raymond, as if he was trying to subtly remind you of your options. “But I’m sure you’ll find my offer to be more rewarding and less of a hassle.”
Raymond pursed his lips and nodded as he thought about it for a moment, barely giving anything away with his expression. “No second chances.” He finally said. “I see you here again and I’ll arrest you.”
“I’d expect nothing less.” He smirked, then turned toward you. “Go ahead, sweetheart.”
“You can’t be serious.” You scoffed. In response, he just stared at you, but you could see it in his eyes; Don’t fuck this up. Just be a good girl and get on your knees. But even as you glared at him and clenched your jaw, he was unwavering. So you let out a breath of anger through your nose and got on your knees.
“She has a bit of an attitude problem, but she’s harmless.” Jackson said teasingly.
“I can see that.” He looked down at you, unimpressed. “I’m starting to doubt your word, Mr. Rippner.”
“I’ll tell you what, how about you give it a try and see if she’s any good before we shake on it?” Charismatic as always… God- it fucking infuriated you.
He hesitated for a moment, as if mentally debating if the orgasm was worth putting up with your attitude. The sight of you on your knees must have done something for him though because he eventually relented.
“Fine,” he huffed. Raymond took another step closer, then you reached up to start opening his pants. He just looked down at you emotionlessly the whole time. Even as you took his cock out and started stroking it, his expression remained blank. While part of you found it a little discouraging, another part couldn’t help but accept the silent challenge of making him break. So you licked a long stripe up the underside of his cock, then took the tip in your mouth with a low hum.
When you just suckled on the head for a moment, he looked at Jackson again. “Does she deepthroat or is this it?” He asked, clearly losing patience. Jackson chuckled softly in response.
“She’s just getting warmed up, don’t worry.” He assured him. Then, “We don’t have all day, sweetheart.”
You huffed through your nose and rolled your eyes, but started bobbing up and down, getting yourself used to the motions. His length was gradually getting harder and harder in your mouth and you moaned softly when you finally tasted precum.
“Like he said, I don’t have all day.” Raymond said, sounding almost bored. Your eyes flicked up to him in annoyance, but you obeyed. If he didn’t want to savor the free blow job, you’d give him what he wanted. It would be less work anyway.
Removing your hand from the base, you took a deep breath through your nose, then sunk down on him, forcing his cock past the barrier of your throat. You held it for a moment, feeling smug when his cock twitched in your throat. When you finally pulled back to bob up and down again, he let out a quiet breath.
“She didn’t even gag.” He commented casually, not exactly sounding impressed, but not sounding bored either.
“She can if you take control, but she’s gotten pretty good at doing it herself.” With that, Raymond grabbed your hair and suddenly forced you down. The tip hit the back of your throat and he struggled to find the right angle for a second before it finally popped through. You couldn’t help it when you gagged, immediately proving Jackson right.
He started a ruthless pace of fucking you on his cock, forcing you all the way down every time. You were able to adjust to it a little, but you were still gagging more than if you were the one controlling the pace. Saliva built up in your mouth, rolling down his balls and your neck, landing on your heaving chest. Yet Raymond still seemed dissatisfied, which Jackson picked up on.
“Hold her all the way down. There’s this little trick she does with her tongue.” He suggested.
On the next thrust, you were pulled down and held in place. Struggling not to gag, you reached up and cupped his balls as you stuck your tongue out, lapping at them while his cock stayed buried in your throat. Raymond let out a barely audible grunt at the feeling and you might’ve smirked if your mouth wasn’t stretched wide open.
“Fuck… We have a deal, Rippner. But I meant what I said— no second chances.” You hummed around his length in response, pleased with his decision.
“What’d I say, huh?” Jackson grinned, no doubt adding another mental tally to his count of how many times he was able to charm the two of you out of trouble. “Feel free to finish wherever you want, she loves it anywhere.” Not exactly the truth, but you weren’t really in a position to correct him… Nor did you want to risk making Raymond change his mind.
Raymond changed it up again, starting to fuck your throat instead of holding you down, but his pace was significantly faster now. You gagged hard enough that you instinctively reached up to his thighs to push him away. Before you could correct your mistake, Jackson was already kneeling behind you and grabbing your wrists, wrenching them behind your back.
“You’re not gonna tap out now and mess this up for us when you’re so close are you?” He cooed mockingly, ignoring the way you were choking and gagging with each brutal thrust. “But you know what? Let’s give Mr. Leon a little something extra, free of charge since he was so generous, hm?” With his free hand, he reached around and pulled your top down enough to make your breasts spill free.
Raymond cursed under his breath and suddenly pulled out, keeping a painfully tight grip on your hair with one hand while the other fisted his cock. You coughed and sputtered, struggling to catch your breath without accidentally inhaling some of the excess saliva.
When he finally came, he barely even made a sound, but his breathing got heavier. Ropes of come landed on your face, then he aimed lower, painting your breasts. As he finished, his grip on your hair loosened before dropping back to his side. Jackson released your wrists and stood up, dusting off his pants.
“Clean it up, then you can go.” He ordered, sounding like his usual apathetic self. You obeyed, licking and slurping up the spit and come from his cock, and even his balls. When he wasn’t actively dripping, you finally pulled back and tucked his length into his pants, buttoning them once again.
“Pleasure doing business with you, Raymond.” He held his hand out and Raymond looked at it for a moment, but eventually shook it, confirming the verbal agreement.
“I want you out of New Greenwich by the end of the day.” Was all he said before turning and walking away. Both of you watched him go, then he turned to look down at you, smirking a little.
“I think that went well, don’t you?” He asked mockingly, not bothering to help you to your feet. You stumbled up, ignoring the ache in your knees and the sticky feeling of cooling come on your face and chest.
“Fuck you.” You muttered, trying to wipe up the mess with your fingers and fling some of it down onto the floor.
“Oh, I plan to after watching that little performance.” He chuckled softly. Then his voice hardened again, taking on that usual dominant edge. “For now though, finish cleaning yourself up and let’s go. I don’t want that shit in my car.”
If you liked this, please consider tipping on my ko-fi or commissioning your own fic to help me pay for my cat’s dental procedure.
Warnings: MDNI, reader hybrid, puppy!reader, nothing but fluff here folks ☺️, Leon’s referred to as daddy, pet names, slight angst, happy ending 💜
proofread but any mistakes are my own 😪 titles taken from the Hank Williams song of the same name
Divider: @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more
You hear a door shut somewhere, and it nabs your attention away from straightening up your room. Floppy ear cocked back, your head tilts as you listen for any more noise. The faint tread of feet makes its way from the front door to what sounds like the study. Your brows pinch together before your whole face brightens with a smile, tail wagging happily.
Leon’s back! Chief, as the rest of the household has taken to calling him. His nickname makes you giggle every time you hear it, so it’s kind of stuck around longer than the last one. You remember old-timer wasn’t something he even cared to be called, but he’s the eldest, so he couldn’t really argue the point. Regardless, he’s back home, and you’re so excited to see him. It’s been too long!
Quickly making your way downstairs (walking, not running—pups aren’t allowed to run in the house), you head to the study. Leon’s broad back is turned to you, and you stand there a moment, hands clasped and ever eager to run up to him, but you don’t want to rush him just as he’s getting home.
Leon stills his movement and turns his head to the side—stumbled jaw, straight nose, and one blue eye coming into view. Catching sight of you, he fully turns to face you, and you notice the reading glasses perched on his nose.
“Hi, sweetheart,” his low voice sounds bleary to your ears.
“Hi, Daddy!” You smile widely, finally allowing yourself to bound over to him and wrap him in a hug.
Giggling, you rub your nose against his, jostling his glasses, and he cracks a tired smile.
“You been good while I’ve been gone?” He ruffles your ears, and your tail thumps against your legs excitedly.
Bobbing your head, your ears flop. “Yep! I’ve been so good!”
“Promise?”
“Pinkie promise!” You nuzzle the side of his face and lathe a wet stripe of your tongue against his cheek. “C’mon, Daddy, let’s go play!”
A frown pinches his brows together, and he rubs his chin, stubble rasping against his palm. “Sorry, baby, but I’m pretty wiped. Plus, I’m not even finished with work just yet. Still got my report to type up.”
Your tail and ears droop, smile dimming at his words. “Oh.” The excitement of seeing Leon bleeds out into soft disappointment. “Okay, Daddy, I’ll see you later.”
“Later, pup,” he murmurs, leaning forward to kiss your forehead.
You huff a little sigh and leave him in the study. Since you’re closer to the garage, you decide to peek in and see if your grumpy daddy is there or not. Reaching the doorway, you ease open the door and see a dark blonde head of hair peeking over the side of a Ducati. Tail twitching, you perk up with the promise of hanging out with Leon as he works on his motorcycle.
As you walk over to him, he must hear you since his head pops up over the saddle. He gives you a little grin.
“Hey, troublemaker.”
“Daaaddy,” you pout, tail swishing twice behind you.
“Just teasing ya, sweetheart,” he chuckles, wiping the back of his gloved hand across his face, smearing a line of grease across his cheekbone.
Walking over to him, you reach for the rag he keeps near his toolbox.
Handing it to him, you tease, “Messy, messy. You know you have to come into the house with clean paws.”
Shaking his head, he takes the proffered cloth. “We wouldn’t want that, would we?”
“Uh-uh, it means bath time,” you giggle.
Wiping his face, he tosses the rag onto his toolbox. He kneels back down at the side of his back and continues to work on it. You fidget in place before kneeling down, fiddling with a socket wrench in his pile of tools. Twisting the wrench, you try to click it faster and faster until a hand suddenly squeezes yours, preventing you from moving.
“Why don’t you go see what pretty boy is up to?” Your grumpy daddy offers up, lips pressed into a thin line, straining to smile but only coming across stiff.
Pouting again, you give him your patented big puppy dog eyes. “I was just sitting here.”
“I know, sweetheart,” he sighs, eyes flicking to the wrench and back to your face. “But Daddy doesn’t need any help right now. And I don’t want you to get all dirty.”
Standing up, you give Leon a weak smile. “Okay.”
“C’mere, give me a kiss.” He angles his head, and you lean down, loudly smacking your lips against his fuzzy cheek.
“That’s my girl,” he praises, “now, don’t get up to too much mischief.”
“I won’t,” you promise. You watch as he goes back to fiddling with the Ducati, the sound of him working on his motorcycle following you out of the garage.
Taking his advice, you wander further into the house, slowly making your way to your pretty daddy’s room. At least, that was the plan, but you hear something thud in the rookie’s room. The door to his office is ajar, and you poke your head through.
He’s sitting at his desk, piles of folders spread out across the surface. A few seemed to have fallen off the side, spilling across the floor, explaining the noise you heard moments ago. His hair looks messy, like he’s run his hands through it a dozen times, and his lips move while he reads along with the words on the page. You stifle a happy laugh at just how cute he looks!
Stepping further into the room draws his attention up. He beams at you, blue eyes lighting up.
“Hi, sunshine, what’re you up to?”
”Nothin’ much,” you answer, shrugging.
“Oh, yeah,” his voice trails off, eyes dipping back down to the papers in his hand.
“What’re you doing?”
You move over to stand by his chair, looking out over his messy desk.
“Trying to organize all these files, shred the ones I don’t need anymore, that kinda thing,” he replies mindlessly, attention still focused away from you.
“Daddy,” you mumble, draping yourself over his shoulders, your head digging into his shoulder. “I’m bored.”
“I’m sorry.” He reaches back and rubs your ears, making your tail wag back and forth. “Wish I could spend some quality time with you, princess, but I really got to get this done.”
Rubbing your face against his shirt, you whuff sadly. “Can’t you take a break?”
“Aww, I really wish I could.” He drops the papers and swivels his chair to face you. “Listen, how about this? Once I finish up, I promise we’ll head out for some ice cream.”
You perk up, tail wagging a little faster. “Really? Even if it’ll be late?”
He nods firmly. “Even if it’ll be late. I won’t let the others railroad me into not letting you get a treat for being such a sweet, patient girl.”
“Daddy!” You squeal happily. “Thank you!”
You kiss him sloppily on the cheek, and he flushes under the attention.
“But,” he holds out a finger, emphasizing his point, “that means you have to be good, or else it’ll be a no-go, okay?”
“Okay,” you agree quickly. “Cross my heart.” You draw a big X over your chest.
“You’re such a good girl,” he coos, bringing both hands up to pet your ears. “Now, remember what I said.”
“I will,” you sing-song.
He gives your ears one last stroke before turning back to his desk. With a promise of future ice cream, you skip out of his study. You make your way to the last Leon’s room, picking back up on the suggestion from your grumpy daddy of visiting the pretty boy. You roll your eyes at the nickname. All of your daddies are pretty.
Arriving at Leon’s door, you knock before swinging it open (a bad habit you’ve yet to break). It’s a testament to how often you barge into rooms since Leon barely flinches at the sudden entrance. Flicking his eyes over to you, he sends you a quick wink and goes back to packing his bag.
“Are you leaving?” You rush to his side, plastering yourself against him and nuzzling his temple. “Daddy, don’t go.”
You whimper and lick his jaw. He hums sympathetically, dropping his shirt on top of his luggage, then turns toward you and pulls you into a hug.
“Sorry, squirt, but duty calls,” he jokes, trying to lighten your mood. “I know it’s not what you wanna hear, but I won’t be gone too long.”
His hands rub across your back, broad sweeps of his palm meant to soothe. “We’ll head to that park you like when I get back. How’s that sound, kiddo?”
“You promise?”
“I promise,” he murmurs gently. “Now, as much as I wanna squeeze you in here with my socks, I don’t think you’d fit.”
He pulls back to catch a watery smile. Leon ticks his forefinger under your chin with a grin.
“There’s my little sunshine.” He smoothes his thumbs across your cheekbones. “I promise we’ll hang out so much when I get back that you’ll be sick of me.”
“You better,” you affirm, eyes squinting and stern.
He chuckles and ruffles your ears, turning back to his luggage. “You know I’m good for it, squirt. Now let me pack, and I’ll say goodbye before leaving.”
Chuffing pitifully, you drag your feet as you leave Leon’s room. Eyes cast down, you miss his concerned look. You shut the door behind you, and it’s like the dam breaks. Your body sinks in on itself, shoulders pulling inward and ears flattening against your head. Sadness creeps into your thoughts, and you decide to just go back to your room.
Once there, even the bright colors and decorations do nothing to cheer you up. Taking in the rainbows scattered everywhere and the cute stuffies dotted around your room, you feel too miserable to enjoy it at all. Usually the cheerful nature of your own space is enough to pull you out of your funk, but today isn’t one of those days.
You crawl into your pen, snuggling deep under your pile of blankets and pillows. The soft throws cocoon you, almost like you’re being swaddled. Sniffling, you don’t actually cry, although you feel on the verge of tears. Every single one of your daddies is too busy for you. Thinking back on the last few weeks, it’s been a lot of the same. They’re all too busy; they have a mission to prepare for; they promise once they’re finished working that their schedule will open up.
And yet…
You snuffle deeper into your fluffy blankets, sadness plucking at your heart and sending your thoughts down a spiral. Maybe they’re mad at you, and this is just a subtle way of expressing it… You don’t mean to be messy when you’re outside on your walks. And you sometimes forget to clean your room, and one of your daddies has to remind you to straighten up.
You promise yourself to do better—you just get distracted every now and then. Maybe the Leons are tired of having to tell you to clean up.
Maybe…
You squeeze your eyes shut, a few tears slipping past your lashes.
Maybe they won’t treat you like their sweet pup anymore. Too busy with their own individual interests, you’ll just fall to the wayside. Just a ghost haunting their presence, an afterthought in their minds. Burying yourself even deeper in your blankets, you wallow in your misery for hours, totally clueless to what’s happening with the rest of the household.
Unbeknownst to you, there’s a quasi manhunt going on to find you, with all of the Leons working together to suss you out.
Lee checks one of your favorite hidey-holes near the couch. “I feel bad I didn’t let her stick around. I was only working on some files.”
“Ease up on yourself, rookie; we’ve all been pretty distant. Slacking in our own ways.”
“Yeah, you’re right, Chief. But I still feel bad.”
A tired sigh from the eldest, “Me too, honestly.”
“Nowhere on this side of the house.” A different Leon enters from the kitchen. “She obviously wasn’t in the garage with me, but the kitchen and laundry are clear, too.”
“Pretty boy, you find her yet?!” The grumpy one calls out.
“No!” A voice calls back from upstairs. “But, I think that just leaves her room.”
All of them meet up with him at the top of the stairs and make their way to your room. The rookie raps his knuckles on your door a few times, but when you don’t answer, he pushes it open. At first, it doesn’t look like you’re in your room, either. It’s not until Chief kneels down to your pen and sees the lump under the covers that they find you.
He looks over at the group, and they nod, all on the same page. Reaching out a hand, he gently touches your leg where it’s sticking out from the blankets. Jumping, you flail in your cocoon, twisting and whining until Leon helps you free yourself. You raise up, one ear flopped back on your head, and tear tracks cover your cheeks.
“Oh, little shadow, come here,” Chief croons, pulling you from your pen and into his arms.
You sniffle and whimper, nuzzling against his stubbled cheek. “Hi, Daddy.”
“‘m so sorry, baby,” he comforts you. “We all are.”
“We?” You pull back from his arms enough to look around. Catching sight of the others, you offer up a teary smile.
That’s permission enough for them all to swarm you, hands petting your back and ears with apologies.
“We’ll do better, sweetheart.”
“Yeah, I know we’ve all been busy—”
“But that’s no excuse. You’re such a sweet pup to put up with our—”
“I’ll take you out for ice cream as much as you want, sunshine.”
“And I’ll take you out to your favorite park. Spend the whole day out there.”
Your tail wags so hard, it beats like a drum against your daddies as they squish you in a group hug. Yipping happily, you lick their hands and faces with a giggle. Showering you with praise and sweet words, your heart feels close to bursting. The silly thoughts from earlier dissipate like mist on a sunny day.
“How about we go snuggle on the couch and watch a movie?” Chief cuts into the noise, eyes locked onto yours.
“That sounds nice.” You duck your head shyly, and they all coo.
“So sweet.”
“A perfect pup.”
“Such a sweetheart.”
The rookie grabs your hand and pulls you up on your feet. Chief follows after with a low groan, knees popping from kneeling so long.
“You okay, Daddy?”
“Right as rain, baby.” He smiles at you. “Now, what’re we going to watch?”
You snuggle into his side, walking alongside him to head downstairs. The other Leons crowd around you, arguing over movie choices and if it’s worth it to pop any popcorn. Tail wagging a mile a minute, you feel over the moon, surrounded by the best daddies in the world.
Up to 2k word custom fic by @kingxxlink, with a surprise-me spot illustration by @grimvestige!
➡️ ORDER HERE
Link and I are super excited to reopen our collab commissions again because they're such a treat to do! How it works is that you'll order a 1k (or 2k) custom fic that you'll work with @kingxxlink for him to write a custom fic to your specifications. Once it's done, he'll pass the story to me ( @grimvestige ) and I'll create a surprise-me (skeb style) spot illustration of a moment in the story!
At the end, you'll have a custom fic WITH an illustration to match!
We're both comfy working across various genres and moods, but both of us excel with
Horror
Romance (canon, oc, poly or monogamous, go wild!)
Queer Characters
There's also a spicy option available on VGen if that's more up your alley!
authors in the tma fandom; are any of you people doing fic commissions i have so many jondaisy + martin brainworms and i cannot be arsed to write them myself. do people still do this.
