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#I am living for daddy kink lately
rinniessance · 4 months
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DADDY'S FAVORITE GIRL ༊*·˚ - step dad!gojo x fem!reader
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going away for college, the last thing you expected to come back to in the summer is a new step-dad. and you do not like the dangerous glint in his eyes every time he looks at you.
꒰ warnings: nsfw - dark content - mdni .ᐟ.ᐟ non-curse au. step dad!gojo, stepcest, age difference (reader is implied to be 21, gojo is in his late 30s), dubcon, gaslighting, manipulation, cheating, heavy daddy kink, so many pet names (babygirl, pretty, doll, princess etc.), slight dacraphyllia, slight overstimulation, breeding kink, unprotected sex, virginity loss, corruption kink. plot is kinda messy 'cause i was rushing to get to the smut, sowwy ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -。꒱ྀི১ // word count: 5.1k ꒱ ꒰ notes: i am freely being my most disgusting self, thank you for supporting my little insane brain .ᐟ.ᐟ꒱
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going away for college, the last thing you expected to come back to during summer break is a new step-dad. ever since your parents divorced when you were 14, your mom has been single – your teenage years, she dedicated herself to you, protecting you from your scumbag father, focusing on your future. you even agreed to delay your college admittance until you were 20, taking two gap years after your high school to stay at your hometown with her. your mom has the worst case of separation anxiety – which is why maybe you should’ve been more concerned when she gradually stopped texting you as the days went on. you assumed the best – maybe she found a hobby, maybe she reconnected with old friends, maybe she finally realized you are an adult and stopped babying you every waking moment. what you did not expect is for her to get married.
these are the thoughts running through you head as you stand in the middle of your living room, fresh out the airport, gawking at the man sleeping on the couch, and wonder how the fuck that happened. you would’ve honestly screamed and thought this was a squatter, or a robber, if not for all the wedding pictures obnoxiously decorating almost every available surface (god, how many photos do you need?). you try not to think too much about it – the flight was 6 hours, you barely got any sleep sitting to the smelliest man on the planet, and you just want to take a shower and go to bed. just as you start walking off, the front door swings open.
“oh my god, sweetheart, you’re home!” your mom’s voice booms through the quiet room resonating like a thunderclap in the middle of a still field. she runs to you, immediately pulling you into a hug which you happily return. you’re genuinely delighted to see her, albeit feeling a little weirded out by a man she decided to bring home. your mother looks over to the couch, man’s sleeping figure not moving once, and sighs with exasperation. “i assume he didn’t pick you up?”
“no but it’s okay…” you whisper quietly and gesture towards the figure on the couch with your head, “about that, though…”
“yeah, honey, i know, i am sorry i didn’t tell you. everything has been happening so quickly, i haven’t even had time to process it myself!” she squealed like a school girl. “his name is satoru gojo and we met at the charity event i went to six months ago.”
“since when do you attend charity events?” you ask, quirking the brow upwards.
“oh, i didn’t know what to do with myself ever since you moved out so i’ve been trying anything and everything. and look, the results have been phenomenal!” she giggled, frustration she had towards her husband about not picking you up melting away in front of your eyes. god, he really had her wrapped around his finger.
“okay, well, i am kind of tired so i wanted to go to bed. is it okay if we talk about this tomorrow?”
your mom suddenly looks down at her feet, a little embarrassed. what did she do.
“yes, about that… that room was sitting unutilized the whole time you were away so satoru and i thought it would be a good idea to remake it into a home office, kind of. your bed is still in there though! so you can sleep in the room no problem.”
“mom, what the fuck…” you whine. not only your room with all your memories and all your personality was gone and demolished, you now have to sleep in the room that was most likely used by him. “home office” my ass, you thought – your mom would not need it in a million years, and by the way she’s avoiding your gaze in shame, it was definitely not her idea.
“i’m sorry baby, but you’ve been away and…”
you interrupt her with a wave of your hand.
“whatever, i’m too tired to think about it. i’ll take a shower and go to bed, i don’t wanna deal with him until tomorrow,” you sigh with frustration and walk off into your home office, dropping your things on the floor.
what you don’t see as you walk off is the dangerous glint in satoru’s eyes as he listens to every bits of your conversation. you said the last sentence with so much poison, he thinks it might’ve struck him dead. gojo knows it will be difficult to get on your good side now but he likes to play these games on hard mode.
oh, you will be so much fun to break.
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gojo satoru is a patient man – when he really wants something, he is content to wait until he gets it. that being the main reason why he approaches you slowly. it’s the next day after you arrive that he has a chance to introduce himself properly.
you leave the room after having the best night’s sleep – you really didn’t mind waking up in the office today, you must’ve been too tired to think straight and threw a fit yesterday. you make a mental note to apologize to your mom later. as you turn into the kitchen, you’re met with the view you wish did not have such a strong effect on you – your step-dad, freshly out of the shower, grey sweatpants low riding on his hips, is preparing what seems to be breakfast.
you’re so fucked.
you try to shake off the feeling of arousal washing over you. you may not have had a chance to have any sexual experiences yet, but you’re not that much of a virgin not to know when you’re feeling horny. you just wish it wasn’t due to the incredibly hot step-dad. the left-over frustration from previous night bubbles up like over spilled champagne and you decide to keep your distance. anger helps you keep yourself grounded, and you maneuver around the man to make breakfast, but you see that he prepared it for you already.
“oh, thank you,” you say quietly as he extends the plate to you.
“you’re very welcome, sweetheart.”
the nickname sends a shiver down your spine.
gojo turns to face you and gives you his breathtaking smile. you want to choke on your toast.
“i wanted to apologize for not picking you up yesterday. your mom told me so much about you, and i was excited to meet her ‘favorite girl’,” his eyes spark with a dangerous glint at the nickname, making you shrink into yourself, “but my work held me up, and then i think i went for a quick nap and… uh… ended up falling asleep,” he says with a light chuckle.
“that’s okay, i didn’t really mind the train ride,” you respond with visible discomfort,
he now stands next to you by the counter, his body heat palpable, melting over you like a scorching son. gojo’s all-teeth smile is gorgeous, frustratingly enough, but it makes your skin crawl: like a prey walking into the carefully designed trap, you can feel your gut asking you to run. it makes sense your mom fell for him so easily.
“will you let me make up for it? let’s go our for a dinner, i’m sure your mom would be delighted to hear we’re trying to get along.”
“i don’t know, i haven’t seen my friends in some time, i think i’ll be hanging out with them for a while,” you shuffle from leg to leg, trying to move away
“that’s okay, we have a whole summer ahead.”
for some reason it felt more like a threat than a promise.
you smile politely back, not knowing what to say, rushing to finish your breakfast. the image of your step-dad, half-naked in your family kitchen talking to you about his plans with you for the whole summer should be weird – it’s difficult to find it weird when the said step-dad is criminally hot, unfortunately.
“i think i’ll go now, thanks for the breakfast,” gojo’s gives you a smile so sweet, it somehow triggers a toothache, and waves you off. since yesterday, he’s been making you feel extremely on edge for no apparent reason, it’s driving you a little insane.
when you come back home that evening, you are greeted by both your mom and satoru with the dinner ready. she babbles about how great of a cook he is, and that she can’t wait until you try it. you politely decline citing that you’re full and quickly leave for your room – satoru’s blue eyes were looking at you with almost an animalistic stare, and you hated that you liked it.
gojo thought things were going well with you – he’s given you the space you need in the first two weeks after you arrived. your mom was overjoyed seeing how deeply satoru already cared about you – making sure you eat in the morning, not letting you go to bed without a meal, always checking on you throughout the day, keeping you safe. you, however, thought it was… weird, if anything, that he was all around you this intensely.
“oh, honey, that’s just how he shows that he cares. he was like that with me as well,” your mom tells you one of the nights when you bring it up. it worries you how easily she takes his side now and wonder if something else is going on.
satoru picks you up when you stay out too late, to the wee hour of the night when the subways stop running; he makes sure you have your nights with your mom, when he doesn’t intrude on your backyard conversations and only adores you pretty features from his second-floor window; he learns what movies and music and tv you like, trying to decipher the person that is you.
he’s been putting all this effort to get to know your every step – then why the fuck does he find you one night you kissing some random boy on your driveway?
you said you were going out today and no pickup was needed – now it makes sense why.
gojo satoru is a patient man. but even his patience can start running thin, trickling like water through cracks in the fingers. hourglass of his kindness has been half full for a while now – it’s about time the sand runs out.
you think a boy like him can give you what satoru can? just you wait and see.
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kitchen is uncharacteristically quiet when you walk in. it’s the next morning, and usually by now, satoru would be making breakfast for you. his job is still unknown – you are not sure if he was suddenly called in but the feeling of happy solitude falls over you, even if for a moment.
your mom is gone at least for two weeks for work, you’re dreading the moment you have to be left alone with your step-dad. the look in his eyes yesterday was dangerous, a predator appraising its victim before sinking its teeth in, and you’re happy megumi was able to leave quickly after walking you home. surprisingly, gojo didn’t say you a word when you walked into the house, silently sitting in front of the tv like he didn’t just spy through the window on your kiss with the boy.
air in the room was heavy with tension – you knew satoru was avoiding looking your way, jaw clenched, hands balled into fists. instinctively, you wanted to break the silence, say something to discharge the electricity jumping through the atoms of your stuffy living room air, but ultimately decided against it. you have nothing to say to a man, and it’s not like you needed to justify your actions in front of him anyways. you quickly retreated into the office and avoided him until you fell asleep.
when you woke up to an empty apartment not even fifteen minutes ago, you felt relief. walking into the kitchen and confirming your presence alone, you even felt happy. then what is this weird feeling, almost as if you are missing something, nagging at you? you thought of going out today but now a strange desire to stay at home washes over.
you make breakfast for the first time since you came home (gojo didn’t skip a single day, you have no idea how he kept up with that), and you chastise yourself for feeling weird about cooking for yourself; and you chastise yourself again when your mind lingers on the thoughts of a certain white-haired man; and again when you look at your phone, convincing yourself it’s a bad idea to text him. god, you feel so stupid. didn’t you want him to stop being so unsettlingly sweet and dotting around you all the time?
conflicted by your irrationality once again, you frustratingly take your plate and sit down on the couch. flipping through the netlifx previews, you land on something to distract your mind by. you settle on some true crime documentary and let the horrors on the screen consume you, abandoning for a moment the thoughts plaguing your head.
you’ve been glued to the screen for at least two hours before you heard the jiggle of the keys. like an eager puppy, you waited for gojo to come inside and greet you like he would every day – only for him to completely ignore your presence, beelining straight for the kitchen. turning your head back to the tv, you try your best not to pay any attention to the uncharacteristic behavior from satoru’s end.
“i will be in the home office the whole day, don’t enter.”
before you can respond anything back, your step-dad is already walking off without sparing you a second glance. is he still upset from yesterday? you didn’t think kissing megumi would be that much of a deal. your nervously play with the hem of the blanket, show playing on tv long forgotten, contemplating what you should do next. why are you bothered by his silence this much anyways?
rethinking your earlier choice, you send a quick text to your friend asking to meet you for drinks. maybe right now gojo needs space, or whatever, and leaving him alone is the best next thing right now. you knock at the door of the home office.
“sorry, i am going out now and need to quickly change.”
not even 5 seconds pass before the door is swung open by a man that’s been occupying too much of your mental space today.
“be quick,” is the only response you get before he leaves the room and closes the door behind him. you’re perplexed by this sudden change in behavior yet again. throwing on the first decent outfit you can find, you let gojo know that you’re done and will be home later; hum is the only acknowledgment you get before he disappears in the office.
exiling all the thoughts of satoru gojo from your head, you leave your house, hoping tomorrow will put all the pieces of the puzzle back together.
yet the next day comes, and you still wake up to no warmth from satoru – it felt as if he built a wall between the two of you in one night’s span, impossible to be breached. should you talk to him? should you apologize? and apologize for what? you didn’t do anything wrong, did you? ignoring the gnawing feeling inside once more, you retreat to the living room, sulking on the couch until the end of the day, clawing onto the hope gojo of tomorrow will acknowledge your existence.
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“did i do something wrong?”
you stand in the doorway to gojo’s office, arms crossed over your chest. he lazily turns his head your way as if giving you even a second of his time is too much of a bother – the look he sends you is burning through your core, making you pathetically weak and wet.
“no,” he starts slowly, “do you think you did something wrong?”
“i don’t know! that’s why i’m asking. you’ve been ignoring me for the past week, and it’s getting weird.”
“i thought i’d leave you alone, it seems you’re capable of having fun on your own.”
satoru is looking back to his screen now, and you scrunch your eyebrows, frustrated by the riddles he’s throwing your way. walking inside the room, your close the door on instinct and take wide steps to stand in front of him.
“stop answering me like this, we’re not playing a charade. what do you mean?” the demand in your voice is clear, and it twists something inside satoru – his gaze falls on you again yet this time it’s dark, taunting, dangerous, with a hint of chaos. it scares and excites you.
gojo suddenly stands up, and pushes you into his desk until you’re sitting on it. he is tall – your mom basically married a giant – and you try to curl into yourself to escape his malicious eyes.
“what, i thought you wanted me to leave your alone? you want my attention now all of a sudden?” he respond with the question of his own in a mocking tone.
“i never said i wanted you to ignore me…” you answer meekly, yelping slightly as your back hits his desk – you suddenly realize there is nowhere to run now.
“really? we’ve been together in a house for almost a month now, and yet you showed no interest in getting to know me.”
“’m sorry…” you cannot think of anything else to say. gojo moves even closer, and is now towering over you – it makes you embarrassingly horny.
“show me how sorry you are.”
before you can respond, he is caging your body with his and capturing your lips in a kiss, and you freeze – all of this is so wrong, you cannot bring yourself to start moving your mouth against his. gojo’s tongue coerces its way inside, exploring the undiscovered paths, his teeth biting your still lips. closing your eyes, you whimper and try to push him away but he only catches your wrists with his one hand, while the other plays with the hem of your shorts. a gasp escapes your lips, and you push yourself further into the desk, squirming under gojo’s body.
“what, you don’t like it? i thought my little girl wanted daddy’s attention?” he torments you, voice condescending and thick with mockery. all you can muster is a pathetic mewl, words lost somewhere inside your throat, and dig your fingers into the edge of your desk as your step-dad forces his digits inside your panties, lightly brushing against your clit.
“god, you’re already so wet, so filthy,” he whispers between the heated kisses as the pads of his fingers keep teasing your pussy. “tell me, babygirl, are you still a virgin? gotta know how to treat you.”
“y-yes…”
“well, am i just not the luckiest?” gojo chuckles darkly, spreading your legs with his thigh. unoccupied hand goes to grip your hip while the fingers on the other are still working your clit, sliding the digits between your puffy lips, teasing your hole. every time he circles around the entrance and mocks by pushing his finger just slightly inside, the moan builds up in your throat, and you’re too embarrassed to let it out.
“common, baby, your daddy wants to hear you, don’t hide your pretty voice from me.”
gojo is infuriatingly good with his fingers – you could never bring yourself this much pleasure from playing with your clit, and your defiance starts melting away as you find yourself bucking your hips into his hand, whining pitifully. the man completely removes your shorts and underwear, shoving the latter into his pocket – something to remember this moment by.
“god, such a pretty pussy, i can’t believe you’ve been hiding it from me. take off your shirt so i can see all of you, princess.”
immense desire pools between your legs, hunger and lust evident in satoru’s cerulean eyes, now hidden by dilated pupils, and you’re surrendering yourself to him – want makes you delirious, completely erasing your sense of right and wrong. you remove the top, nipples perked and waiting. gojo looks at you in wonder and disbelief – all of that for him? his hand went to squeeze your boob almost on an instinct, rolling the nipple between the pads of his fingers, while sucking on another with his mouth. you drop your head back, losing yourself to the intense pleasure your step-dad’s giving you. seeing as you’re distracted by him playing with your tits, he takes this as his chance to shove two of his fingers inside.
a strangled moan leaves your lips, your hands gripping man’s shoulders.
“ahhh, that hurts, satoru.”
“nah-uh, that’s not what i want to hear you calling me,” he straightens himself and starts scissoring you with his digits. the initial intrusion is painful, you can feel your virgin walls stretching to accommodate for how he’s dragging the fingers in and out, yet the burn is woefully delightful, and you’re getting lost again.
“’m sorry daddy.”
gojo only chuckles – god, you were easier than he expected, so well-behaved and pliable under him.
“that’s right, let daddy take good care of you.”
he speeds up the pace, curling his slender, pretty fingers, brushing the spots you were never able to reach with your own. wet, soggy sounds fill the entirety of the room, air already stuffy with smell of sex as he continues to finger-fuck your pussy. gojo could feel his cock twitching in his pants, he wanted to take you right there and then, but he was determined to make you cum on his digits first – it prompts him to attach his lips to your neck, sucking on the sensitive spot below your jawline, marking you as his.
your mewling turns louder, breathing is getting labored, and it seems your hips have a mind of their own now as they are bucking into satoru’s movements, fucking yourself how you need it. something akin to orgasm starts building up in your tummy – it has never felt this all-consuming, you wonder if you’ve been touching yourself wrong all this time.
“daddy, please don’t – ah! – stop,” is everything you can say in a measly attempt to ask him to speed up. his thumb finds your neglected clit, rubbing tight circles around your bundle of nerves, and picks up the pace, cunt now clenching even tighter around his two fingers, and gojo groans thinking how you’d feel around his aching dick. he adds a third finger – it’s angled so perfectly assault your special spongy spot, it turns your brain into a mush.
gojo pinches your nipple, kissing you to swallow all the lewd moans to himself.
“is my princess close?”
“yes daddy, ‘m so close.”
“common, cum all over my fingers, baby.”
these words finally push you over the edge – your climax washes over you like a cold morning shower, leaving you trembling in gojo’s hold. your legs are trying to close to stop the man from continuing his abuse on your twitching pussy but he is too lost in the feeling of your walls constricting around his fingers to allow you to do that. he fucks you through your orgasm, bringing you to the realm of overstimulation.
“ahh, daddy, please, it hurts now,” you whine with teary voice, beads of salty water gathering in the corners of your eyes.
“shhhh, daddy knows best, yeah? let me feel you a little longer.”
gojo keeps his pace until you’re clawing at his arm, trying to pull away your pussy from his fingers. he grabs you by the back of your head, bruising your lips with the intensity of his kiss – you’re sure he draws blood by how he bites your lower lip, licking the messy aftermath. you’re still whining and mewling, trails of tears finally flowing down your face, and he’s sure he’s never seen anything hotter as he licks the salty tracks.
“you’ve done so good, babygirl, i think you’re ready for the main gift,” satoru says and finally withdraws his fingers. the emptiness is welcoming yet disappointing, and you groan. gojo quickly unbuckles his pants and shoves them down, alongside his boxer briefs, and you almost choke on your spit when you see how well-endowed he is. you don’t have a lot to compare it to but you think his cock is beautiful – it's long and slender, and uncut, prominent vein running all the way from the base to just underside of his head, and you get an immeasurable desire to run your tongue along it.
“is my pretty doll drooling jus’ at the sight of my dick?” he mockingly asks you, making you turn your gaze away. gojo chuckles again, and grabs you by your chin, pulling your head down.
“no looking away, darling, i want you to see how i take your virginity.”
with no other option, you keep your gaze peeled downwards, to where gojo strokes himself couple of times before lining himself up with your leaking hole. despite all the preparation and your previous orgasm, you’re still incredibly tight and satoru groans as he starts pushing himself inside. you can see his smooth cockhead bullying his way into you, stretching your greedy walls – man feels you pulsating around him, and that makes him twitch.
“fuck, princess, you’re so tight, feels so good.”
gojo finally sinks all the way in, your cervix being met in a kiss by a swollen tip, and you moan, sound almost pornographic. your step-dad doesn’t let you adjust before he pulls out almost all the way before sliding back in – he doesn’t go easy on you for your first time, setting up a brutal pace, not caring if you’re ready to take him fully yet. it stings, and you have to hold yourself on gojo’s shoulder’s as he starts fucking into you. his hands are on your hips, guiding them to meet his thrusts.
“daddy please, ‘ts too much,” you cry out but satoru is all too lost in how your gummy walls perfectly hug his swollen cock. he doesn’t respond, shutting you up by forcing his tongue into his mouth yet again, sucking on every piece of available flesh. slowly, the tension in your body melts away and gives way to a new kind of pressure – the one building up in your tummy. you’re shocked at how fast your body is able to start getting on the road to blissful ecstasy again but you’re not complaining.
“shit, are you getting close already, babygirl? i can feel your pretty pussy squeezing me again.”
“yes, sorry daddy.”
“there is nothing to be sorry about, just means your daddy’s doing a good job,” he says with a grin, keeping up the pace, rutting into your sloppy cunt. queefing sounds and slapping of skin on skin make you blush furiously yet you can’t take away your gaze from where satoru keeps burying himself inside you.
the girth of gojo’s cock is deadly – not only he’s able to reach the spongy spot almost immediately, making white spots dancing across your vision, kaleidoscope of pleasure lighting up your every nerve ending, he is also bruising your cervix just with enough pressure to make you twitch in delight. his pubic bone grinds against your puffy clit and it’s setting up fireworks against your skin, hot molten lava igniting your whole being.
your moaning becomes uncontrollable as satoru’s fucking you in an animalistic pace – he keeps splitting you open, the spread of legs is slowly growing uncomfortable.
“look how good you’re taking me, being such a good girl for me,” he’s babbling, edging himself too – he wants to feel you spasming around his cock, he cannot let himself cum before that. “gonna feel so good cumming inside, pretty. give you a cute little brother or sister, huh? what do you think? i bet you’ll look so gorgeous being pregnant with my baby.”
“no, daddy, you can’t do that…”
“hm, why? just imagine, you walking around, with my child inside your belly, all cute and swollen for me, tits full of milk. wouldn’t you want that?”
you hiccup a sob as gojo keeps dragging his heavy cock in and out of you, the vein you saw before pressing against your walls deliciously, and you feel your toes start to curl as your body chases after the second orgasm. you dig your nails into his biceps, certain to leave half moon marks on his porcelain skin, and bite your lip. in turn, he is pressing his fingers against the plum skin of your hips, marking you with bruises to remind you of this tomorrow.
“shit, i haven’t fucked your cunny for that long yet it’s already perfectly snuggled around me. i’m training it fast, huh? i’m gonna teach it to fit only me,” you can hear the grin in his voice as he says that.
gojo feels your walls tighten around him – he can see you’re teetering on the edge of climax, whining and moaning under the man, letting him completely use you – so he picks up the speed, assaulting your abused pussy. it doesn’t take longer than that for the tension in your tummy to snap, and you’re wantonly crying out satoru’s name.
“fuck, dollface, you’re squeezing me so perfectly right now. want to milk me for all i’ve got?”
you’re cock drunk, unable to respond to him, hoping your mewling will be enough for the man to see he fucked you stupid. he is not showing signs of slowing down – you can only continue whining as satoru chases after his own pleasure. he pistons his hips couple of times more, and you can feel him throbbing inside as he shoots creamy ropes of cum inside you, painting your womb white. the ring of mixed fluids at the bottom of his cock drives him insane, and he continues fucking his cum into you.
“shit baby, can’t waste a single drop now, can we.”
you’re letting out a quiet sob, pleasure too overwhelming and almost feverish, still unable to find your voice. when he deems it satisfactory that his seed is all warm inside you, gojo finally pulls out and kisses the top of your head.
“i’d say this was a good practice run, what do you say? your mom only comes back in a week, i’ll make you my personal cumdump until then.”
you snap your head up at his words, the smile playing on your step-dad’s face borderline sinister. you think it’s supposed to make you scared, then why is your pussy already twitching around nothing?
“yes daddy, anything for you.”
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dollfacefantasy · 3 months
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Special Day
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pairing: mafia!leon kennedy x fem!reader
summary: this year your husband wants to give you a special present for your birthday
cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, oral (fem receiving), fingering, daddy kink, breeding kink
word count: 5.2k
a/n: birthday fic for someone i am so happy to know and call my friend, @explorevenus. i love her so so much, she's one of the most fun and kindest people i have ever known. she's so totally cool and you all should wish her a very happy birthday.
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For my pretty little doll on her special day. I’ll see you tonight. I love you.
That’s the message scrawled onto the scrap of paper that’s attached to the hanger on the closet door. On the hanger, dangled one of the prettiest dresses you’d ever seen in your life. Your favorite color, flowy and shimmering. Of the hundreds of things he’d asked you to wear over the course of your relationship, this had to be in the top three.
It almost made up for the fact that he was going to be on the job for nearly the entire day. You weren’t even confident he’d make it home in time for the dinner reservations you had, but if you had to be alone, at least you would look good doing it.
If anything, you tried not to let his absence bother you too much because it could be worse. You make a point to yourself to remember that today wasn’t like years ago when you would’ve spent the whole day at work just to come home to an empty house. So far you've spent it out, getting your nails done, lunch at one of your favorite places, some light shopping. And it was all on his dime. This was the one day a year where he truly gave you no limits, no allowance, no teasing about your debit card being worn out. Your birthday always was about letting you indulge in anything you wanted as much as your heart desired. You reminded yourself of that when you felt the familiar pain of longing tighten up your chest.
It wasn’t like the feeling was a foreign one. He’d been at work on every birthday you’d had since the two of you got together. He’d treat you to the shopping spree combined with sending you a lavish arrangement of flowers, chocolates, stuffed animals, or whatever you had been wanting that year. Then he’d come to you the next day, or once you started living together, in the middle of the night. Always climbing into bed or coming up behind you with a hushed “‘m sorry, babydoll” and some gentle kisses to your head. And you’d never complain because the next day before you even had a chance to get annoyed, an expensive new bracelet would be on your wrist, and he’d deliver his apologies between your legs with his tongue, fingers, or cock. Your choice.
For the week leading up to your birthday this year, you had just been silently hoping it would be different. Considering he had been spending more time with you lately, and less time in sketchy meetings, it didn’t seem unreasonable. The higher he climbed in the dark world that he worked in, the closer you came to living the glamorous life he’d promised you from the beginning. His higher position scored the two of you the penthouse you currently sat in. It got you vacations to exotic places and clothes you previously only would’ve been able to afford in your wildest fantasies.
The sun had just begun to set, casting a warm orange-pink haze over your room. You figured you should put on the outfit he’d chosen for you. Lifting the dress up, you realize there’s something else attached to the hanger. Obscured from view at first glance is a delicate lingerie set, lacy pink bra and panties with rosebuds embroidered across them in rows. A smile rises on your lips as you slip off the clothing you had on and unclip the dainty articles from the hanger. Your fingertips smooth over the lace while visions of Leon’s hands dancing across your chest, squeezing your breasts and pinching your nipples, flash through your mind.
You slide the thin straps onto your arms and reach behind to clasp it into place. Then you pull the panties up, looking in the mirror at how they fit over your hips. The dress comes after these. You put it on and are left blown away by his choice for you. It looked good. Showed you off, highlighted your assets in the most flattering way.
As you admire your reflection, the main doors to the apartment open and close. Keys rattle as they’re dropped on the side table. He enters the bedroom and you hear a hum of adoration rumble from his chest.
“There’s the birthday girl,” he says softly as he makes his way to you.
Your eyes capture his gaze with a fond glance. He’d actually made it back when he said he would. Maybe things were looking up. You turn your back to him, revealing the parted fabric that left your back and the hem of your panties exposed.
“Zip me up?” you request.
Without a word, he pulls you close by your waist. You knew he loved doing this. Picking what you wore and watching your body slip into it, filling out his fantasies. His fingers tug the zipper upward and secure the dress together. He presses a tender kiss to your neck and inhales a deep breath of his favorite scent in the whole world, your perfume. His arms wrap around you as his palms rub down your body, over your belly and to your hips. He leaves a few more smooches on your throat as he directs your stare back to the mirror.
“That dress looks gorgeous on you. My perfect little doll,” he murmurs.
“Thank you,” you respond, catching his eyes in the reflective glass ahead of you. You scan the picture in front of you. His large frame engulfing yours, damn near lovesick expression on his face, hands and arms as possessive as they could be in such a basic stance.
“No, thank you,” he says, “You been having a nice day? Being a good girl? Staying safe?”
You sink back against his chest more as his low voice seeps out against your skin. “Mhm,” you answer with a slight nod.
“Yeah? You ready to have some more fun tonight?” he whispers, lips brushing your earlobe.
You nod, sweet and docile. God, it was like you melted in his presence. Could never hold onto anything with him around. It all went out the window in order to get his praise and feel the warmth of his affection on you.
“That’s my baby,” he coos with one more wet kiss on your cheek. He backs up as if he’s about to let you go, but as you turn around, he grabs your jaw. The pads of his fingertips gently dig into the flesh of your cheeks. In that loving and condescending tone that sent heat rushing through your body, he asks, “Who’s my pretty girl?”
It was such a simple thing. You didn’t know why it worked, but it always did. A big smile spreads across your face, and your eyes flit away with timid modesty.
“Me,” you confirm, tone soft but sure.
“That’s right,” he says simply and pulls you into an actual kiss.
After that, you’re almost giddy, high off the small gesture. It made your blood run hot and your head swim with a dizzy feeling of love. You all but prance to the rack against the wall that holds your shoes. Slipping on some matching heels, you face him once more and do a little motion to show off the completed look.
He chuckles at your twirl and opens his arms. You immediately go to him and find your place in his grasp. Kissing the top of your head, he mutters “What’d I do to get the sweetest girl in the world all to myself, hm?”
You shrug, and that’s all he needs before the two of you are ready to go. He stuffs his wallet in his pocket and walks towards the elevator with you tucked to his side. His fingers coast down your jaw and stroke your hair. Your eyes stay locked on him from the doors shutting to the little ding letting you know the trip is over.
The two of you float outside to the luxury car Leon rode around in now. Not even drove because he had been given a driver recently. All the two of you had to do was simply slip into the backseat.
He holds you close, nearly on his lap for the duration of the ride. One hand massages the back of your neck, keeping your head against his shoulder. The other delves beneath the skirt of your dress only to knead your plush thighs and feel your skin between his fingers. All the attention keeps your head spinning and your body craving his love.
It’s only around twenty minutes before the car pulls to a stop in front of the restaurant. You’re greeted by the familiar twinkling lights and neon letters of one of your favorite places. You beam at him and take his hand. He watches your pleasant reaction, so pleased he could make you happy with something so simple.
Getting in is quick and painless since he had called ahead of time, dead set on making this as special for you as possible. You’re seated at a booth in the back. It’s not completely private, but well secluded from the other patrons filling seats.
He slides in first, grinning as he pats the cushioning next to him. You follow, and immediately, he pulls you close. Your thighs are squished against each other beneath the table. His lips are caressing your neck as you skim the menu causing you to squirm and laugh softly.
“You get anything you want, pretty baby. Tonight’s all about my precious girl,” he whispers.
You nod and nuzzle into the affection a bit, brushing your nose with his. After deciding what you want, he orders your meal and drink. The two of you talk, and from this alone, it seems to be shaping up into the perfect night. You talk about everything and anything, catching up with him like you hadn’t in a while. You see the Leon you love, your Leon. The guy who comes home late with dark eyes and a flat voice is nowhere to be found, and you couldn’t be more pleased. He stays close the entire time, seemingly not able to help how touchy he was with you.
Eventually, your orders arrive, and things continue to look up. Your smile won’t leave your face as you eat and drink. Laughs fly between the two of you like neither of you had ever seen something bad in your lives. It’s only hours later, towards the end of dinner when you can see him simmering down a bit. His expression grows more serious. Different from usual though. It’s not stern. It’s more… vulnerable. He pulls you flush against him yet again and squeezes his arms around you softly.
“I’m happy you’re having a good time, sweetheart. You know I love seeing that pretty smile. And you should know, I’ve wanted your birthday to turn out this perfect every year. But now I can actually provide that,” he says, continuing to grow more genuine.
You nod, not totally sure where he’s going here but eager to find out.
“Usually, I’d have something big for you to open at the end of your day,” he starts. He almost looks nervous at this point, and it’s concerning you, “This year, I don’t have anything like that because I thought we might do something different for your main gift.”
You look up at him and shift your body to face him a little more. He had your attention now. You try to mentally run through different possibilities for a different kind of big present. Vacation? No, you’d done that before. Moving? That also seemed unlikely. Maybe it was related to his work? You honestly had no clue.
“What is it?” you ask.
“I think it’s time we start trying for a baby,” he says, his eyes going soft and his voice dropping to be more hushed.
Your heart jolts inside your chest. You almost don’t believe you heard him right. He must have said something else. That or he was just playing the most cruel joke in the entire world.
“But you said you didn’t want any?” you say skeptically.
“I know I did. But… I was wrong,” he says with a slight smile. 
Leon had told you on each rare occasion that the topic of kids came up that he did not want any under any circumstances. This life was too dangerous, he wouldn’t have time for them, he wanted you all to himself. All were reasons you’d heard over the years. You’d honestly just shoved your small hopes for a family away because he seemed certain of his position on the topic. You’d come to terms that it would never happen. It was him or the white picket fence fantasy, and you’d chosen him with no real hesitation.
“And you just changed your mind out of the blue?” you ask.
He shakes his head with a chuckle. He kisses your pulse point as his fingers start tracing small circles on your arm. “No, no. I’ve been thinking about this for a while,” he whispers.
Your breath hitches at the sensation of his mouth on your skin again. You tilt your head back and shut your eyes, letting him work. You were already buzzed from the drinks you had, and this wasn’t making it easier to think through your line of questioning.
“I’ve been having these dreams, y’know,” he breathes as if he senses your uncertainty, “Once every couple days, I’m seeing you pregnant. You’re looking fucking gorgeous, belly swollen and bright smile on your face. Then I wake up. And after a few times, I realized I don’t want that to only be a dream anymore.”
He continues trailing his mouth along your skin, leaving small love bites scattered throughout the sheen remnants of saliva. Your head is swirling with the mix of his actions and words, and what it means. He wanted you pregnant. It didn’t sound real to you even with his brief explanation.
“You want to change the entire direction of our lives because you had a few dreams?” you ask.
He laughs softly into the crook of your neck. “I’d been thinking about it anyway. I’m not getting any younger, baby. I guess I’ve softened in my old age cause what I want more than anything is to see my precious little doll holding our baby,” he says with a mix of teasing and seriousness in his voice.
It makes you smile and exhale with amusement. You turn your face in his direction and catch his lips in a real kiss. When he pulls away, his breath is coming out in heavier puffs. His eyes, blown out with love, are locked in a stare with you. His hand slips down to your midriff, palm flattening over your tummy.
“It wasn’t so hard to realize, babydoll. I’d be fucking insane to not want to see you carrying my baby. You’ll be the prettiest little mama,” he whispers.
His voice had become huskier, his thumb moving back and forth on your bottom lip. You were completely enraptured with him right now. Your head was growing fuzzier by the second, and the desire for him to fuck you full of cum was only getting stronger.
“You can’t even understand how much I’ll love watching that belly grow. How it’ll start sticking out of every shirt you have till we have to buy you a whole set of new ones,” he murmurs against your skin, “And don’t even get me started on how these are gonna fill out.” His hand moves to your breasts, gripping the plump flesh under his palm .
Now your breath was picking up a bit too. You shift in your seat in an attempt to alleviate the building tension in your center. His kisses become more aggressive and simple touches morph into rougher grabs.
“I’m not gonna be able to keep my hands off you, babydoll. Gonna have to fuck you like we’re still trying even when you’re in the last few months,” he grunts.
The softest whimper escapes you, but he hears it. You feel his smirk against your skin. He lightly nips at your throat and pulls back, letting you see his smug expression in its entirety.
“You like that idea, yeah?” he coos quietly, “So much attention for you, baby. Constantly being doted on. You’re not gonna lift a finger for nine months. Gonna let me take care of everything while all your energy goes into growing our baby.”
You look up at him helplessly. Big, sweet eyes that remind him of a puppy. He grins as your head bobs up and down in a nod.
“My good fucking girl. Let’s get out of here,” he says.
You’re quick to follow him out of the booth after he drops a couple bills on the table. Your fingers lace with his as he leads you to the main doors and back to the car. You take him in as he guides you. Just a few moments to admire his broad shoulders and muscular biceps. His protective grip and eyes that seemed serious to everyone else, but you could tell held more mischievous intent.
Once you reach the car, he opens the door for you, giving you a quick smack on the ass as you climb in. He’s right next to you after that, and as the engine comes to life, you almost wish he’d waited to have that conversation in here instead. Because now you were gonna have to sit here, turned on and untouched for the ride back. Heated skin and glossy eyes, it was pretty obvious how you were feeling. Most likely everyone in that restaurant and the driver sitting one seat in front of you all knew that Leon was going to fuck you dumb as soon as you stepped through the doors to your apartment.
You come to figure though, that if it’s already so obvious, what’s the harm in being a little more overt? Scooting over to him, you lean into his firm side. He looks down at you knowingly. Your fingers curl over his thick thigh, nearly brushing the most sensitive area of his lap.
“Feeling a little impatient?” he teases softly.
You nod. Sure your driver could hear murmuring, you just hoped he couldn’t make out exact words.
“Yeah, what do you want me to do about it?” he mocks, “You need Daddy’s fingers in that tight cunt? Can’t even wait till we get home to cum?”
You bite your lip to muffle the whine blooming in your throat. Your face burns at the use of the title that melted your mind down to a few simple words. Yes Daddy. Thank you Daddy. Pretty please. Wanna cum. 
With another nod, you sink further into his chest. Your eyes remain up and keep their focus on him.
“Well, since it’s your birthday…” he starts. His hand swoops beneath your dress, bypassing your thighs this time and cupping your pussy, fingers coasting over the damp fabric.
You were pulsing with desire, your heart thudding against your chest. He pulls your lacy garment to the side to run his digits through your folds and feel the slick that had gathered for him. A low chuckle leaves him, and all you can think is how grateful you are for the radio being turned on, no matter how low the volume. From how wet you were, you were sure in dead silence you’d be able to hear more lewd noises than the words spilling from Leon’s mouth.
“Oh, you really can’t wait. You’re already making a mess all over my seats,” he whispers.
The pad of his finger swirls over your clit, and you hum quietly in relief. The pressure in the pit of your belly releases a bit as the warm flow of pleasure courses through you. Your eyes flutter shut, your hands hook around his arm for comfort, and you press your face to his shoulder to obscure your reactions to the feeling.
“My perfect little doll. I press the right button and look how well you behave,” he breathes.
You suck in a breath, narrowly avoiding a whimper tumbling into the car. He plays with your bundle of nerves for a minute more before slipping two fingers down and slipping them inside you.
Your fingers dig into the sleeve of his suit, clutching it as he pumps in and out of you. He works himself in, up to his knuckles. Your thighs part a little more to give him some space to work with. He shakes his head and playfully tuts at the display of need.
“Poor baby, Daddy got you so worked up, didn’t he?” he coos softly against your head.
You nod quickly. All your focus is on keeping quiet as his fingers move between your walls as you clamp around them. He smiles and continues lightly. It was your birthday so he would be nice, wouldn’t try to embarrass you too bad.
You’re so wrapped up in the throes of ecstasy he’s bringing you that you don’t even notice when the car has stopped. The only thing you notice is his fingers are now gone and you feel painfully empty.
Your eyes dart up when you lose the warm, filling sensation. Unlike usual, you contain your whine of protest as you realize your moments away from getting what you really wanted.
Like a movie of the beginning of the evening playing in reverse, you both make your way back to the elevator. He keeps a firm hold on your hand as he takes the lead. You stumble behind, all but collapsing in his arms once you're in the elevator. He leans down into some sloppy kisses. Your tongues meet, and your lips smoosh against each other fervently as if you’re running out of time.
After what seems like forever, you hear that little ding, and he wastes no time pulling you into the apartment. You’re kissing on the way to the bedroom, hands roaming one another as you bump into furniture and nearly knock clutter off tables. His suit jacket is gone before the bed is even in sight. Buttons on his shirt had already been popped open as he throws you on the bed.
He climbs on top of you, continuing to make out with you for a moment. His lips start to head south, finding their place on your neck again while his hands start pushing up the skirt of your dress to bunch it at your waist. There was no teasing tonight. You were the birthday girl after all, and he intended to keep his word that the evening was about you.
His entire body drifts downward now. Placing himself on the end of the mattress, you nearly can’t see him from fabric that was hiked up. You can feel him though. Tongue and teeth grazing along your inner thighs, making you shudder.
In the midst of his frenzy of desire, he seems to remember something. He rises to his knees and starts to properly remove the dress from your body.
“Almost forgot to unwrap my gift,” he says.
He’s discarded the dress to the floor in no time. You lie there, on display for him in the lingerie he’d chosen just for this. His hands stroke your sides as he takes in the view of your nipples pebbles beneath the embroidered rosebuds, the soaked patch of fabric between your thighs. He’s lost in the sight of you, feeling almost as hazy as you did.
“Sweet baby, the only present I ever need,” he mumbles before lowering himself to the bed again.
He yanks down the pretty panties and tosses them over to sit with your dress. Then you finally feel some of the relief you’d been craving. He dives into your cunt, lips moving as he envelops your sex in the heat of his mouth. 
His tongue strokes up and down the velvet skin. He laps at your clit, paying attention to the precious bundle of nerves that had you crying out and writhing in his hold. You reach down and tug at his hair, causing a loud groan to emanate from the junction of your thighs. He devours you with increasing fervor.
“Pussy’s so fucking pretty,” he mutters into you, “So cute. My favorite toy.”
Your head falls back while your hips roll against his face. Gasps and whines erupt from your throat freely as you rotate between clawing at the sheets and pulling at his hair.
“All for you Daddy,” you choke out, trying not to devolve into a complete mess just yet.
He smirks up at you, enjoying the pathetic lilt in your voice. His thumb rubs your clit in quick strokes now while his mouth takes a quick break to speak. 
“That’s right, baby. All for Daddy,” he repeats, words coming out slow like you’d struggle to understand if he spoke too fast, “All mine whenever I want it. Isn’t that right?”
“Mhm, whenever you want,” you babble back.
“My smart girl,” he teases before returning to licking your cunt.
The room is vibrating to you. You’re so high in the clouds you can’t register anything in your mind that isn’t him. You vaguely feel him working two fingers inside you again as his lips wrap around your clit and suck on it in a way that causes you to shriek.
He laughs and continues on, holding your body in place as it jerks and seizes under his touch.
“Good girl, babydoll. Cum all over Daddy’s face. You deserve it,” he encourages you.
You keep cumming. Your slick coats his chin and mouth, and he laps up every drop that he can. He pleasures you through the high. Once he’s worked you over the edge, and he can tell you’re coming down, he pulls off.
“My favorite sound in the whole world. Those pretty noises you make while you let go for me,” he murmurs as he crawls back on top of you. He nuzzles your neck, leaving some kisses on the skin in the wake of your powerful release.
“You know that normally, I’d keep going, but I think we both wanna get to the next thing. Want me to breed that sweet pussy till I’m firing blanks,” he says.
He finishes pulling his shirt off and removes the clothing from his lower body quickly. He’s back on top of you before you even register he was gone. Lazily stroking his cock, he slides it between your folds, gently fitting up against you.
“My little doll ready?” he whispers.
You hook your arms around his neck and nod. He can tell by your languid movements that you’re almost loopy off your release.
“Yeah you are. My perfect girl,” he whispers as he slides in, sheathing himself in the warmth of your pussy.
He grunts and tightens his hold on you as he sinks all the way in with no resistance. Your walls flutter around him, already beginning to charge up the hot coils in his belly.
“Swear you were made for me,” he mumbles into your neck, “Pussy made for me to fuck full. Precious little face made for me to kiss.”
“Mhm,” you hum absentmindedly. You hook your legs around his waist, locking his hips against yours as he starts to grind himself into your cunt. His pelvis rubs against your sensitive clit while the head of his cock prods all your favorite spots deep inside.
He grunts and groans against your throat. Both of your hot and sticky skin slides against the others. His breath fans across you in hot pants as he starts working his hips a little harder, rocking in and out.
“Everything about you is all for me. My perfect doll. My good girl. My gorgeous fucking wife,” he growls.
You nod eagerly as you pull him closer. His hips smack against yours repeatedly, his heavy balls clapping against you with each thrust. Your breaths are shaky. It feels like you're headed towards another release with no ability to hold it off or stop it. You whine for him and squeeze around his length. So fucking tight, he actually whimpers to stop himself from blowing his load.
After a while more, he knows it’s imminent for both of you. He keeps pistoning his hips, rutting deep inside you while kissing you and capturing those sweet little sounds in his mouth.
“You there, babydoll? Gonna cum again for me?” he asks quietly, watching for the nod he knew you’d respond with. Once he sees it, he works a little harder, bringing you to the peak. “Yeah? You ready for Daddy to cum too? I know you are.”
With his voice rasping in your ear, his cock drilling deep inside you, it only takes one more thrust of his hips for you to reach the brink. You spill over into your second release. Your hips buck, and your chest heaves as the second round of ecstasy zips through you.
He hums as you contract around his shaft, clenching and drawing him in further, as if you’re crying out for him to give you his cum already. His cock twitches inside of you as he gasps and erratically fucks it into you. His entire body weight is pressing you down into the mattress as he lets go and gives up on not crushing you beneath him. It only added to the pleasure though. It was the closest you’d ever felt, and not only because his cock was bumping your cervix every couple seconds.
Soon enough, he’s spilled all that he can into you. He remains on top of you though, keeping you right where you should be. His arms snake under your body and the shift causes you to whimper since he still hadn’t pulled out. He holds you to him like you really were his dolly, peppering kisses along the side of your face and dragging his nose against your head.
“So good for me, like always,” he mumbles.
You reciprocate the affection with a few lazy kisses of your own. Your arms rest around him with no actual grip, simply just a way to show you return the sentiments.
The two of you just lay there like that for a little while, taking in each other, enjoying the peace that comes with release. You break the silence soon enough with a whisper.
“Think this has been my best birthday yet.”
He smiles and smooches you a few more times. “You deserve it, baby.”
“Thank you for making it perfect for me,” you say and tighten your limbs around him.
“Mhm,” he hums like it’s nothing. He then pulls back a little and looks down at you. “I don’t know why you’re talking like it’s over though, sweetheart. There’s still a few hours left of your actual birthday, and even then, I’m not gonna let some numbers stop me from fucking my gorgeous wife.”
You return the smile and pull him into a few more pecks.
“And I wasn’t lying, we’re going until I’m absolutely certain you’re knocked up,” he murmurs as he rocks his hips against you again, drawing a soft whimper from your throat, “And you know how precise I am. Probably shouldn’t make any plans for tomorrow, actually, probably need the whole weekend too.” He looks at you with a cocky smile before continuing the roll of his hips.
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hoshigray · 10 months
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Alright, y'all, here's the plan: you're not quite aware of what Toji does for work, yet you keep quiet. But one night, the man comes home bleeding, and you can't keep your worries to yourself anymore. However, for your protection, Toji isn't ready to reveal his assassin business to you. And, in the heat of the moment, ends up saying something that hurts you instead...
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A/n: (Reuploaded bc I forgot smthn) This prompt was picked from a poll to celebrate the 300+ followers milestone (pssst tysm for 450+ you lovelies :D) two weeks back. Truthfully, I don't think this is my best work after proofreading, but I did my best. Probably bc 1) it's longer than I intended, and 2) I procrastinated waaaaay too much with this. I don't even think I made sense halfway through, lol, but fuck it, we ball. Anyways, like last time, there is art drawn by me (@hoshigaby) but it'll be found deep in the fic :33
I hope you enjoy the ride and reblogs + replies are much appreciated!! Also, don't be alarmed that Y/n in the drawing looks of a dark complexion, feel free to use your imagination if it doesn't suit you. But do not edit it; be an adult and ignore it if it's not your taste.
Cw: Toji x fem!reader - arguing/yelling - fingering (fem! receiving) - mating press - Daddy kink - first Toji is sour, then he's sweet bc he's whipped for you :) - clitoral play (pressing down and a pinch) - praise - breast fondling + nipple play - pet names (angel, baby, darlin', honey, kid, mama/ma, princess, sweetheart/sweetie) - Megumi mean-mugging his father while Tsumiki and Shiu Kong tell him to do better lol - mentions of blood and stab wound; isn't fully healed so reopens.
Wc: 5.8k
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"Uhh, are you sleeping on the couch?"
"Yes. Yes, I am."
"...Why??"
You scrunch your brow at your phone, looking at the two people you're talking to through the screen. "I know you're not about to get on my case over where I'm sleeping."
On the L-shaped couch lay you, cuddled up with a fluffy blanket and memory foam pillow, one hand holding your phone while another wrapped around a stuffed plushy. You were on a video call with your best friends: Utahime and Mei Mei.
Utahime, lying on her bed with a face mask, replied to you. "Oh, I'm definitely getting on your case because it's supposed to be the other way around!"
"True, but I like the couch anyways." You puff at the woman who's not satisfied with your answer. "Plus, I'm on the L-part of the couch, so it's practically like a bed!"
Your other friend, Mei Mei, chuckles at her screen. Icy blue hair pulled up in a bun with reading glasses positioned atop her forehead, probably counting her tips on her desk like she always does before bed. "My my, this is the fourth night this week. What did your man say to make you this upset?"
Memories of what happened before come back to you, and so does the exhausting irritation you've been trying to keep at bay.
It was a quiet night like this one as the rain fell hard on the silent streets. You've just put Tsumiki and Megumi to sleep and waited in the living room, watching a movie to pass the time. It was pretty late into the night when you heard the door open as drowsiness settled in. Nevertheless, you got up to greet the man you'd been waiting for coming from the entrance, but you weren't prepared for the sight that instantly woke you up.
Toji Fushiguro, groaning and leaning against the wall with his black jean jacket drenched from the rain. A hand was clenched on the left side of his torso, deep red tarnishing his plain white shirt. He was heaving in an attempt to even his breathing, but when he caught a glimpse of you standing before him, he was quick to try and play it off with a worn-out grin. "Hey, baby." His familiar deep voice was strained in subtle agony.
Worry bubbles within, and you rush towards him. "Oh my God, Toji, what happened!?" You remind yourself to not be too loud as the children are still asleep, so you rely on whisper yellings while walking him up to your shared bedroom.
Even in the room, Toji doesn't explain himself. Just silent hushes and cajoles that he's alright. "I'm fine, honey. Just tell me where's the first aid box." Pointing at the bathroom cabinet, you watch him leave your side to grab the kit. The crimson spilling from him is caused by a stab wound he reveals when he sits on the bathtub, lifting his shirt. You can feel your eyes water, imagining the pain he's going through when he hisses from putting on rubbing alcohol on the gash.
The words you want to say feel so forbidden. Your fingers fidget amongst themselves with the irregular beat of your chest. Don't say it, Y/n. Keep your mouth shut. Don't—
"Is this from work?"
Green eyes shoot back in your direction, and you immediately feel yourself sinking into a pool of regret.
Talk of Toji's occupation wasn't something you brought up much. Even at the beginning of your relationship, he didn't indulge in any insights about what he does, so you eventually quit after a few failed attempts. However, with all the nights he's come home while you sleep or the new scars you point out yet are brushed off, your anxiousness for him keeps festering. And seeing him with his own blood on his hands made you wonder how many nights he has pulled off doing such without your knowledge.
Toji's eyes go back to his wound. "Don't worry 'bout it." The stern tone of his voice has your blood turn cold. He didn't want to entertain this, especially in the wee hours of the night.
And yet you still persist. "No, Toji, I'm serious." You can see him glare at you through the raven bangs shading his forehead. A warning. But it doesn't stop you. "I'm getting worried about you."
From there was when the argument came. Every point you've made to him was shut down at once. His cold responses pierced you. Usually, you'd do what you can to avoid this type of confrontation. But now, it hurts even more when he doesn't cooperate with you, your concerns disregarded like rubbish.
"Damn it, Y/n!" Toji barks at you, seething through the physical pain as a fist bangs hard on the bathroom cabinet. "Why's it so hard for you to stay out of this?"
"Well, if you would tell me things instead of pushing me out the way, then maybe I wouldn't have to!" At this point, you're fighting the tears from falling. Your face hot with frustration, but you still speak. "Toji, I've done so much for you and the kids, and I—"
"No one told you to do—"
"Yet I STILL do!" It's your turn to yell. "I care about you deeply, same with Tsumiki and Megumi. I don't ask for much, Toji. But I want you to open your life to me just a little, even when you're hurt like this!"
His emerald eyes remain rigid despite your pleas to him. And what he said next had you still to the core. You can recall the beat of your heart corrupting your senses while the tears stride down.
"If you were goin' to be a thorn on my side like this, I wouldn't have let you be in it in the first place."
"He said WHAT!!??" Utahime shrieks after you retell the situation to your friends.
You nod your head. "I just looked at him, and he looked at me. Then I turned, picked my pillow up, and headed downstairs to this couch."
To say the dark-haired woman was livid was an understatement. "And tell me WHY this fucker isn't the one sleeping on this couch, again??"
"Even if I did tell him to sleep on the couch, he probably would say something like, 'Tch, why should I? I pay bills for this damn house,' and yadda, yadda." This is true, apart from the man being injured, so having him move would've been immoral. "Plus, I just really wanted to get outta the room, so I went ahead and moved myself out."
"So? You pay bills too, what the hell!? Good God, Y/n," Utahime shakes her head. "You sure we can't pummel this dude?"
"Yes, I'm sure. Besides, I'm getting used to ignoring him when I see him around the house. But, oh my God, guys, his kids," the phone panned down to the plush toy and the pink, fluffy blanket. "Miki saw me sleeping here the other morning and gave me this blanket. And Gumi — he's such a sweetie. He gave me his favorite froggy toy to sleep with to scare off his dad from 'bothering me in my dreams.' "
"Hmm, how adorable." Mei Mei comments. "Funny how such darlings can come from a guy like that."
Utahime nods rapidly and throws in her opinion. "Listen, Y/n, you shouldn't think you outta be in every part of that man's life. Even so, he should at least know how to compromise. I mean, come on, you take care of him, the kids, the house, and go to work with us. All of that just for you to sleep on a couch!?"
"You're not gonna let this couch thing go, aren't you?" The pale blue-haired woman chuckles again, and Utahime sighs. "But she's right, Y/n. It takes a certain kind of person to have the patience to do what you do in a relationship with a single father and two children. I'm sure Utahime would've left with all her hair out."
The dark-haired one gets up from her bed and takes her device with her, heading to the bathroom to finish her skin care. "Now, why am I the one used as an example?"
"Because you're the most vocal about a relationship that isn't yours." A sly smile is painted on Mei Mei's face after she hears a 'hmph!' from the other as Utahime removes the mask and washes her face. "My point is that you like this man — love him even. But that love shouldn't cost you to be so emotionally drained. Perhaps he understands this, except it wasn't the perfect moment for you two to express yourselves. Maybe talk to him when you two stop the silent treatment."
All you do is hum aimlessly, too wrapped in what your friend said to give a proper response. Then you yawn, your body signaling you to finally rest. "I'll sleep on that thought. Night, girlies~~" You wave and send kisses to the other two. They do the same as you leave the video call, placing the phone on the coffee table and snuggling up with the blanket and plush toy.
You try to distract yourself by thinking of what you'll do tomorrow. You gotta get up and make breakfast for Tsumiki and Megumi before waking them up, then head to the station and take the bus to work. Maybe you can finally try that new café close by with Mei Mei and Utahime for lunch. And when you return home, you should whip up something fun for the kids to eat.
Perhaps, make something for Toji since he sometimes forgets to feed himself when you're not around. Or if he's leaving for work, wish him a safe trip back home like always. And...if he's down for it...you can find the right time......to talk...about......
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The moment you closed your eyes, it felt as though you were sleeping on your own bed again. When you turn to your side, your body descends into the feeling of cold sheets beneath you. It was pretty comfy! Plus, the blanket—
Wait...Sheets?
Your eyes slowly open to the sight of bedsheets underneath you. Navigating out of the sleepy stupor, you make out parts of your surroundings to know that you're not in the living room anymore. You slowly rise up to face the door of the bedroom. Your shared bedroom.
A sudden cough alerts you, forced as if to grab your attention. A chill crawls up your spine. Oh God, no. You turn to the side to see the man accompanying his side of the bed. And there he was, Toji, lying on his side with his head resting on a hand, looking dead at you. His raven hair looked damp from a recent shower, sporting only a grey wifebeater and dark sweatpants.
"Hey," is all he says to you. No smirk and no nickname followed with the greeting. Just a simple address to you with his green eyes softly watching yours. You almost fall into their inviting spell the more you look at them.
Nonetheless, it's not compelling enough since you remember he's the man you fought with four days ago — the same man you weren't prepared to see right now. You quickly turn away from him and lift the comforter to exit the room. However, Toji grabbed your wrist before your feet could touch the floor, his grip too strong for you to pull away from him.
You avoid eye contact with him, your back facing him. "Toji, let me go. I'm going to sleep."
"Then sleep."
"On the couch, Toji." You try and pull again. Nothing.
"Fuck that, just sleep here. I didn't carry you up here for nothin'."
You shake your head as you exhale through your nose. Of course, he carried me here. "Whatever happened to you not wanting me to be a part of your life?"
The words that left your lips surprised you and the grip around your wrist tightens. You didn't mean to say them, but it was the truth because they were his own words. Or did you?
Still facing away from Toji, you're unable to see his reaction. Oh shit, is he angry? Is he going to let me go after that?
"Darlin', please..." His deep voice hushed for only you to hear. "I just really need you with me here. Just for tonight...." His hold lessens, leaving you to decide whether you should stay.
The silence is uncomfortable for both of you — especially for Toji, who has you where he wants you to be, where you're supposed to be. As seconds pass when he doesn't hear from you, the nervousness that used to exist before your relationship rises back into the pit of his stomach. And his soul drops down when you remove your wrist from his hand.
Though, to his surprise, your hand lifts the comforter up while your legs move back on top of the mattress. You lay back down with a sigh, your back still facing Toji. "Did you give Miki back her blanket?"
Toji exhales quietly, situating himself back on his side of the bed. "Yeah, and Megumi with his toy."
You hum, and the silence fills the room once more.
Toji looks at nothing but your figure next to him, watching the rise and fall of your shoulder as you breathe silently, your face nestled comfortably on the pillow. To think it's been half a week since he last saw you in this room is hard to believe.
That night when you left him really stuck with him. The image of your face covered in tears was all he envisioned, the same with you grabbing your pillow and exiting the room. After tending his stab wound, he went down to talk it out. Yet when Toji saw you sleeping soundly on the couch with dried tears painting your pretty face, he didn't dare wake you up and just went to bed.
And it was worse the following days. Not only did he have you avoiding him at every chance, but he had to deal with the judgmental looks of his children. Never in his life has he seen Megumi give him glares that meant business. If looks could kill, Toji would be finished. And Tsumiki, his sweet little girl, now pesters him about being nice to Y/n, saying he should think about their feelings and apologize.
But what about his feelings? Does no one understand that he was just trying to keep you out of business that you didn't need to fret over? He's very aware that his job is not a normal one. It's dangerous, and anyone around him can get hurt or worse. Hence, keeping you away from this part of his life keeps you and his family safe. If not knowing he's an assassin keeps you from harm's way, why change that.
At least...that's what he thought, not what he said.
Even Shiu Kong, his handler, had something to say after telling him what had happened during lunch today. "Wow. I knew you were trash, but I didn't know you were that dumb, too." The man snickers when Toji shoves a middle finger his way. Shiu lights another cigarette after discarding the one he finishes. "Well, how were they supposed to know you were watching out for them? If someone you love comes to your front door bloody and sick, whose safety are you worrying about?"
Toji says nothing to that, letting the other man resume speaking some sense into him after taking a long sig from his cigarette.
"Look. I can't promise that this angel of yours wants to stay with you after what you said. That's all up to them. But until they decide that, I hope your dumbass realizes when someone sticks with you literally through blood and pain, that's someone who cares for you to the Moon and back. Not saying you should tell them what you do, but a nice word or two of comfort is all they need. If you're not that big of an idiot, reconcile and let them know you care about them."
"...Reconcile and let them know you care about them..."
If there's one thing that Toji has trouble with, it's knowing how to use his words. It was a tiny problem in the earlier stages of your relationship, but as time flew, you could guess how much the tall man cherishes you by his actions rather than words.
The older man knows that you know he loves you. But now, when he's pushed into a position where words are necessary to portray his real feelings for you, he feels stumped.
"If you were goin' to be a thorn on my side like this, I wouldn't have let you be in it in the first place."
Toji grimaces at his own words replaying in his head. Why the fuck did I say that?
"Whatever happened to you not wanting me to be a part of your life?"
Your words ring in his mind. Why did I fuckin' say that for? What the hell is wrong with me? What did—
"Toji?"
He returns to reality, eyes moving back to your still silhouette.
"I know you're still awake, so I'm gonna ask this." Toji braces himself for whatever your soft voice muttered. "Whatever job you're doing, is it a dangerous one?"
Shit. The dreaded talk is here, and Toji cannot escape it.
"Yeah."
"Are you good at your job?"
"It's the only thing I'm good at."
You nod your head aimlessly to his answer. Then you turn around to face the anxious older man. The moonlight peaking through the window blinds illuminates your face beautifully while Toji's breathing slows.
"I don't think that's true," you continue to answer. "You're good at being a father to Tsumiki and Megumi. Not the best, but a decent one nonetheless. You're also good at caring for me; letting me live with you and your family proves that. And lastly," Toji gulps with a dry throat.
"You're good at loving. You say you're lousy at it, but there's love in everything you do for me. It's there when you look at me whenever you think I'm unaware. Or when you silently grab my hand when in crowded areas. Or," a small chuckle exits from you. "When you carry me up from downstairs to the bedroom."
Toji's jade eyes lock in with yours, waiting for you to avert your gaze away from him. But you don't. You keep looking at him. You keep spoiling him. This type of recognition is something Toji never thought he deserved, so you giving it to him so effortlessly makes his growing guilt eat him alive.
"I care about you so much, Toji." You shift closer to Toji and bring a hand to his cheek, causing the man to lift his brows. Your face is only a few inches away from his. "What happened yesterday really scared me. All I could think about was the wound and all the scars you have. Where they all came from and how deep they are. Or......you never coming back."
"Baby..." Toji absently refers to you with a sweet name, placing his big hand on top of yours on his cheek. He lets you finish.
"I know you can't guarantee coming back to me unscathed, but I just want you to promise me something: please let me know you'll be okay. When you're gone, I can only hope you make it back home safely. So, just promise to not get yourself killed." A sheepish smile is used to ease the serious tone. "Even if I'm not in your life, I'm sure Tsumiki and Megumi would be pretty upset to not have you around."
Toji scoffs. "Trust me, I'm sure they'd leave me the moment you step out the door." That makes you laugh, and it has the man swooning hearing it. His hand moves to your cheek, and you allow him to stroke it with a thumb. "And I wouldn't blame 'em. Havin' such a beautiful and loving angel slip through my fingers?"
"Toji..."
"I'm sorry for what I said and scarin' you like that. If you aren't here with me, as part of my life and all, then I don't think I can't make a promise like that. You're too good fr' me, and I'm sorry if I didn't seem to appreciate you until now."
And you know he's genuine with his plea, his green eyes gauging your reaction to see if he's worth another chance. All you do is sigh and lift yourself up, wipe his wet bangs from his forehead, and kiss it. "Not the best apology, but I accept it."
He drones, relishing the feeling of your lips on him again. "So, are we cool, kid?"
"Yeah," you peer down at him with a smile, and he does the same. "We're cool. However, if you ever yell at me again, don't be surprised when I pack my bags."
"Oh yeah?" Toji raises a brow. "I'll be careful, then."
"You better." Hushed chuckles are shared to comfort the silence, enjoying the closeness between you two that felt like forever to have again. Just the two of you with you giggling above him and the light from the window cascading an ethereal glow to your features. Your teeth shied behind pretty lips, lips he wanted to kiss.
And you catch him looking. You notice him wanting you, needing you. Just as much as you need him. You slowly lean down to his face, planting your soft lips on his rigid pair.
Toji's surprised by the action for a moment, but he moans into your mouth and pulls you into him closer. The kiss starts off nice and slow yet quickly changes to one filled with passion and desire. Teeth clashing, tongues exchanging, sweet moans paired with aroused groans.
As you two are lost in each other's lips, Toji carefully maneuvers you on your back with him on top of you. Your legs find purchase around his waist as he rocks into your core, rocking your hips together in a steady rhythm by the second.
His hand snakes down to your lower region, fingers brushing past your pajamas and onto your panty-covered vulva. The intrusion has you breaking the kiss with heavy breaths filling the silent, moonlit room. He busses your chin down to your neck as shaky mewls slip out your mouth.
"Haaah, Toji, we shouldn't. It's late—Hmmm..." Your whimpers don't stop him from pulling your pajamas and undergarments off.
"It's okay, sweetheart, lemme make it up to you." He says in-between kisses on your clavicle, pulling up your shirt to reveal your bare chest. His free hand fondles a breast before his mouth goes for the other. "Let Daddy take care of you..."
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The sudden combination of his thick fingers intruding between your nether folds and his mouth sucking and licking your sensitive nipple has you whining in bliss, your hand gripping his wet raven hair resulting in a satisfied groan from the older man. Toji missed this — missed you — close to him, under him on this bed.
One finger plays with your wet chasm for a few moments before it's inserted inside. A shriek is let out as your cunt adjusts to the digit. "Mmmph! Oh God, Daddy, your fingers...Ahhh!"
A soft 'pop' leaves from Toji's mouth when pulled back from sucking on your nipple, his tongue lapping around the sensitive nob. "What's that, mama? My fingers feelin' good?" You nod rapidly, but that's not the answer Toji's looking for, so he bites on your nipple gingerly yet hard enough for you to jolt. "Daddy wants your words, angel."
"Yesss, yes, your fingers feel soo good," You mewl to him, and Toji chuckles dangerously low while rewarding you with another digit in your slick-coated hole. His abrupt middle finger joins his forefinger in attacking your velvety walls, and your voice shifts higher in ecstasy.
The sounds of Toji's tongue licking around your nipple coincide with the squelches between his fingers and your gushy slit. Your brain starts to short-circuit.
"Ahh! Ahhh! Daddy, I can feel—I'm gonna," Toji's fingers pick up the pace. You're so close to release, you can feel it.
"Gonna be good and cum on Daddy's fingers, right, baby?"
"Mhmmm, I wanna co—Oh, Jesus, I wanna come. Hoooooh..."
"Then go ahead, princess. Mess 'em up." Toji comes up to kiss your forehead as his fingers go irrationally fast, and a thumb sneaks to press down on your unattended clit. With a choked cry, you spasm and cream on his thick digits. He watches you finish, loving the image of your head pushed back on pillows and your body arching towards him.
He dismisses himself from you once you're done, licking his fingers of your essence and taking off his wifebeater and pants. The image of his free cock has you biting your lower lip in anticipation as you discard your shirt to the bedroom floor as well. When you look at Toji, you notice the bandaged patch on his left side. He sees you glimpsing, quick to ease your concerns. "I'll be fine, darlin'. Won't go too crazy." Looking at his scarred body in a new light, you nod and follow his lead.
Toji carries your legs up to move to the right of his shoulder, situating you two into a mating press. His dick aligns with your glossy cunt. Precum meets slick and lubricates the two sexes pushing into each other. Toji coaxes you. "Too tense, ma. Relax fr' me." You prepare yourself with even breaths, and the man pushes into you with each exhale.
The head of his cock enters, a cry departs from your lips, and Toji hisses with the tightness of your slit. His hips go slow, making sure your walls accommodate every vein and dent of his dick as it ventures deep within you. Hits to your G-spot have you babbling incoherent prayers, gripping the sheets under you.
When his cockhead finally meets your cervix, you sob his name in rapture. Toji smirks, dialing the pace of his thrusts up. "Mmmm, Christ, yr' tight pussy. So fuckin' perfect fr' me."
Every stroke prompts a euphoric moan from you, drool escaping your lips as your mind turns into putty. The noises of his pelvis smacking on your ass feel so wrong to hear, yet you can't help but grip around Toji's girthy length. It gets worse when he presses his entire body weight on you, forcing you to take his cock and abusing your tender cervix with every deep rut.
As for Toji, he's enjoying seeing you writhe and pant under his bow. The corner of your eyes sprinkled with tears, your mouth wailing in euphoric chants, the way your cunt clamps around his dick when he grinds his hips deep onto your come-covered folds. He can never get enough of this, enough of you, driving him so fucking crazy.
"Daddyyy, I'm gonna—Ahhaaaa!!" Toji's now going at an erratic cadence, his cock churning your insides as his heavy balls slapping your folds being the only things you can listen to. Your whines get higher and higher while chasing your climax. "Cu-cumming, I'm gonna cumm—Ohhh!!"
"Hnngh! Oh, shit, fuck, fuck. Me too, kid, me too," Toji groans into your ear. God, his deep voice makes your brain mush. "Oooooh, want me to fill you up, mama?"
Your head nods frantically, tears now staining your face. "Yessss, please, Daddy!! I want it!" Toji hears your pleas and smashes his mouth into yours, moans swapped between lips with tongues daubed in saliva. A hand is moved down to your clit, pinching the spot between Toji's forefinger and thumb. And your pussy tightens around his cock one last time before you peak onto him.
The fluttery spasms of your walls clenching around Toji have him finish in three deep strokes, spurting his seed inside you before he relaxes his heaving body on yours. The kiss breaks with you two huffing and panting, the final moments of your high finally depleting out of your nude bodies.
His green eyes take in your dazed expression, calloused fingers wiping your tears away. "How's that for an apology?"
"You pervy old man," You chuckle to yourself, so out of breath. "You're more of a man of action anyway, so you pulled through. "
"Hehe, I'll take it." He cups your jaw with his big hand, your eyes locked in with his. "I love you so fuckin' much, baby. Sorry for ever making you think otherwise."
You blink once. Twice. Your hands come up to his face, and a finger swipes away black bangs stuck to his sweaty forehead. "I love you too, Toji. I would've left your ass if you weren't."
Toji smiles and leans in to kiss your swollen lips with his scared ones; however, a sharp pain stops him, prompting the big man to yell out. Worried, you try to assess what's wrong. Then you see it: the blood-stained bandage on his left side.
A gasp catches his attention, and Toji turns to what you're gawking at. His body freezes, seeing the trail of blood exit from his reopened wound.
"Ahhhh shit..."
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"Well, well, well," Utahime smirks at you through the screen. "I see you're not on the couch anymore."
You smile sheepishly as you lie on the pillows and headboard of your shared bed. Tsumiki and Megumi huddle beside you, napping blissfully around your presence under Tsumiki's pink blanket.
"Yeah, we made up last night." To avoid disturbing the children, you reply in whispers.
Mei Mei hums. "I see that. I assume you two had a nice talk about it?" You open your mouth, but no words come out. The two women quirk up a brow.
"Oh? I take it that there was more than just talking." Utahime chimes in, her smile going ear to ear while your eyes avoid the screen. "No wonder we didn't see you at work today. The dick so good it saved your relationship, huh?" She laughs at you hushing her up for using crude language while the children sleep. "Well, happy you two figured it out. But don't think I won't come over there and beat his ass the next time I see you on that couch."
"I second that," Mei Mei agrees. "But Uta can do the beatdown; I'm more interested in what he has in his wallet."
"Not much, I'll tell you that." you correct your friend. "I'm the one who takes care of his finances for safe-keeping."
"Well, that makes things easier for me."
The three of you laugh through your devices. Then you hear heavy footsteps drawing closer from the stairs. "Oop, he's back now. I'll talk to you guys later!" You hurriedly wave and kiss your friends goodbye before ending the video call. The bedroom door opens, and there he is.
Toji flashes a quick smile at you before it vanishes once he sees his kids nestled around you. "I was hopin' to get some alone time with you."
You giggle as you brush Tsumik's hair away from her pretty face. "You're back early. Is your wound okay now?"
"Hmph, yeah, thanks to you pushin' me out the way and grabbin' for the first aid kit." Toji pokes fun at you for the event from last night, where you immediately pushed the brawny man off of you and ran for the tools necessary to treat his open injury the moment you saw blood. You chuckle and watch the tall man climb into bed. "Doc said it should fully heal within a week or two. Why the squirts here?"
"They were happy to find me back in the room for a nap, so they joined me and kept me company." Megumi snuggles close to you for warmth, and you pick him up to your chest.
"Well, they're takin' my spot."
"I don't think they care."
Toji pinches your nose for your snarky remark, and you wriggle out of his fingers with quiet chuckles. His hand then cups your face and pulls you to face him, his emerald eyes softly gazing into you.
"You know I love the hell outta you, right?" His deep voice sounds sweet to the ears. You purr into his hand. "And I hope you know I'm the same for you." He nods. You smile.
He hesitates for a split second, but Toji leans close to kiss your tender lips. Only for a tiny hand to come smacking him in the face, halting him from further movement. To the shock of you both, Megumi was back awake, sending a mean look at his father.
Toji groans in annoyance. "What was that for, brat?"
"For making Y/n sad." Megumi keeps his hold on you secure as he and Toji mean-mug each other. Queuing Tsumiki from her slumber, defending you from her father. "Apologize or stay away!" The little girl warns the older man.
You're quick to break up the mini-fight amongst the Fushiguros. "Alright, kids, no need to worry about me. Your dad already apologized to me by promising to take us out for dinner tonight." Childish faces beam in delight while Toji shifts to instant puzzlement. "Now go get ready and put on your shoes!" Tsumiki and Megumi do just that, rushing out of your shared room and to their own.
When you can't hear the pitter-patter of little feet anymore, you feel big strong arms haul you into Toji's embrace, attacking you with tickles. You try to squirm your way out, but it's no use when he uses his body to cage you in. "Who told you to make promises on my name, huh? You tryna be bratty with me, kid?" He grins at your ticklish suffering.
"Then don't you—Oh God, stop!" It's difficult finishing your statement while fighting back laughter and screams. "Don't you ever yell at me again!"
He stops tickling you, thank God. You catch your breath as Toji looks at you under him with a proud smile. "I don't plan on it, sweetie. Now c'mere."
Toji finally has his lips placed on your soft ones, and you happily return the favor by wrapping your arms around his neck to pepper him with delicate kisses. But the romantic atmosphere vanishes when the children come and dogpile on Toji after hearing your ticklish screams, forcing the older Fushiguro off of you to deal with his kids with tickles of their own.
Observing the children laugh and squirm under Toji's merciless fingers, a soft smile adorns your face watching the domestic display before you and thinking how lucky you are to witness such a thing. Well, that's before all three of them turn to you and bring you another ticklish horror.
And despite the torture, your screams and giggles are filled with pure joy and contentment, and you wouldn't have it any other way.
3K notes · View notes
asumofwords · 7 months
Text
Modern!Dark!Aemond - Divorce AU - Oneshot
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Til Death Do Us Part
SUMMARY: You and Aemond had been married for years, but he was not the man you thought he was. Discovering his affair with his secretary Alys Rivers, you had decided that enough was enough. You packed up your things in secret and left, leaving divorce papers on the table, and booked a one way ticket out of the country.
What will happen when Aemond goes to the ends of the earth to find you and make you his again?
WARNINGS: This fic is 18+. Readers discretion is advised. She/her pronouns, stalking, abuse, toxic relationships, infidelity, divorce, NONCON, manipulation, gaslighting, marriage, rough sex, choking, hitting, punching, yandere, obsessive behaviour, possessive behaviour, forced orgasm, violence, daddy kink, dacryphilia, head injury.
PAIRINGS: Modern!Dark!Aemond x reader
Word count: 10.2k
NOTES: Well, well, well.... Here we are. You have all been so feral waiting for this to drop and I am honestly so excited to see you all crawling about in my walls after. Probably shouldn't have to say this by now but will for new folks, READ THE TAGS, this is a DARK!FIC. There is no fluff or happiness lmao. This has been so fucking fun to write hehehe.... Anyway.... Without further adieu... Enjoy ;) <3
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The soft hissing of the kettle took you away from the book you had been reading, nestled against one of the many windows in the small cottage you now owned.
Taking the kettle from the stove, you poured the boiled water over your tea leaves, watching the herbal mix swirl in the strainer. 
The soft aroma of chamomile and peppermint wafted from the cup and you inhaled deeply, leaning against the kitchen bench as you waited for it to steep, no use going back to your book nook until the tea was ready to take with you. 
The leaves from the pine trees in the forest outside had turned a deep green, the cold chill of winter having rolled through the valley of the quaint village you lived in early this year. Condensation rose from earth as the sun heated the mildew on the grass, the smokey illusion seeping from the forest floor.
It was different to the city. No more were the days of craning your head up to look at the crawling skyline of buildings, the sound of traffic, or yelling of people on the street. No more did you hear cars blare their horns or music, or the melodic sounds of people chattering in the late hours of the night or fights between lovers from apartments surrounding.
Now, the most noise you heard was the occasional storm that rolled through the valley, or the deer that wondered the pasture at the back of your property. 
You could remember the first night you heard them, such a different and unfamiliar screeching that had set your hair on edge, eyes darting about to each window and front door as you raced around the house to make sure they were locked. 
They always were. 
You were meticulous that way. Always vigilant, always ready. 
But in reality, you shouldn’t still be on edge.
It had been months since you left.
Almost an entire year since you packed your things and left the papers and your ring on the table for him to find. And what’s more, there would be no way for him to find you out here. 
Not that he would even try.
You hoped.
It wasn’t as if you didn’t love him, or loved him; the lines were still blurred there. But Aemond had broken you in ways you never knew he could.
The lies, the secrecy, and then, her. 
You remembered when you had first met Alys; a work event Aemond brought you along to. The pretty wife and happy family image did wonders for his company and the press, so he often brought you along on his arm, smiles and grins for the cameras, whispers of starting a family or trying for one, until you were out of view. 
But that time had been different. 
That time, something had changed. 
You had known about Alys Rivers for a while, a new hire going months back. A woman from no notable name, nor background, a start up of her own, worked hard to get where she was, or at least, that’s what you had first thought when Aemond had described her to you; his new secretary hire. 
An older woman, not one a wife would usually find as a threat.
It’s almost always the younger ones. Older men seeking out their youth between the thighs of a barely twenty-something, whilst their wives are none the wiser, or perhaps knowing and too resigned to care, birthing them children at home as their marriage dissolves into nothing but a loveless legal contract.
But this was different.
She hadn’t come to introduce herself at first, not at all, and that’s what you found the strangest.
Alys Rivers, a few inches taller than you, with pale skin and bright green eyes, had stood in the far end of the hired venue, sipping a glass of red wine, perfectly manicured maroon nails tapping on the glass, whilst she tucked an ebony strand of hair behind her ear. 
You had felt the heat of her gaze immediately, your eyes meeting hers, and yet, she didn’t look away, didn’t smile softly, walk over and introduce herself as any other woman would have. She just stared. Right into your very soul. It had sent shivers down your spine, and you knew, in that moment, that something was wrong. 
Off.
Aemond had done his rounds with his private investors, higher employees, friends, if you could call them that, and press alike, all whilst you stuck by his side, smiling pretty and responding with shallow answers that didn’t give too much or too little for them to talk about later. 
You hated those stuffy events, men and women alike always trying to get closer to you in order to get to Aemond, who was a fortress to begin with. Some people often commented or made joking remarks at how surprised they were that you had married him. That you had managed to thaw the Ice Man himself, that he was even capable of such things, and you would always laugh and make jokes back in good nature, smile never reaching your eyes. 
But really, he was amazing when you were first married. Doting, loving, loyal, and always there, though that was sometimes overbearing. There was of course the little things, the teeny red flags that you ignored more often than not, rose tinted glasses and all that, but you had been young and in love and crazy about him, and he had been the same about you.
But as the years rolled by, and the two of you grew, you also both changed. The business expanded rapidly with the death of his father Viserys, and Aemond became more preoccupied with that legacy, most of the empire being passed along to him, and not his older brother Aegon, who had no desire to work and would rather live off his inherited wealth with drugs and weekend benders surrounded by lusty women. Occasionally men too.
And then when Alys came into the picture, it was like a switch had been flicked.
As though the Aemond you had thought you knew, never existed at all.
Alys had sauntered her way over half way through the event to introduce herself, all saccharine smile with razor sharp teeth that looked ready to sink into your flesh. She was polite, pleasant, overly pleasant, too sweet, too complimentary, and it felt off. Like an overripe peach, or wine that had been left open for a week too long. 
Your husband had been stiff at your side, hand flexing around the tumbler of whiskey the entire time she stood beside him, too close to be friendly, and most certainly far too close for a boss and his secretary. And really, you should have listened to your instincts then and there, for they screamed that something was amiss. 
But Aemond had a way of getting into your head, making you believe every word he said, push away your own instincts, and question yourself over, and over.
And that’s what you had done.
Questioned yourself, over and over. 
Yet one day, something in the back of your head nagged at you too loudly. Aemond had not answering his personal number, calls you could understand, but usually he responded to his texts. But that day he hadn't. And so you called the office, where he spent most of his time these days, which had become a frustrating new normal, as was the depletion of your small weekends away, romantic dinners, spontaneous days out together.
The marriage felt stagnant, stale, and you knew in your gut the true reason for it. His desk had rang for too many rings too long. And when Alys had finally answered, she sounded rushed, caught unawares, awkward.
That was all it had took. 
You had asked if he had his lunch yet, that you were nearby in the city and wondering if you should drop by, knowing that he had been spending later evenings in the office ‘working’, or weekend trips away to Harrenhal for business there, his secretary tagging along. 
Alys informed you that he had just ate, but the way she said it was with that same overly sweetness that set your brain afire. 
It was almost smug. 
And so, without even hesitating, like you had for months on end, you picked up your keys and left, heading straight to his office.
Your heart had raced the entire time you drove there, weaving through traffic, just knowing, knowing, something, deep in your gut was not right.
And you were right. 
Because there they were, caught like two deers in the headlights as you had swung the door open, Alys, seated on his desk, skirt pushed up to her hips, one shoe lost to the floor as Aemond thrusted into her parted legs.
They hadn’t even heard you at first.
But she saw you.
And she had smiled.
You will always remember his face. 
He had turned and looked at you with shock at first, but then it turned to anger, as though you were at fault for this, as though you had ruined his fun, as though you should have known better, scar on his cheek crinkling with the sneer he threw your way.
You left in a flurry of hot tears, immediately calling your lawyer.
You drove straight to your best friend Sara’s house, and crashed at hers for the week, ignoring the constant buzz of calls and texts, and yes, even emails from your husband. Aemond in his desperation to reach out to you, even drove to Sara’s house, demanding if you were there. You had hid in the bathroom, holding your breath in the tub, shaking with anger and heartbreak and fighting the urge to go out there, to yell at him, scream at him, or more dangerous still, forgive him.
Then you were gone, speaking to your solicitor to get everything set into motion, friends loyally supporting your decision. You left the divorce papers on the dining room table, packed your bags and left whilst he was at the office, giving him no chance to manipulate you into staying, no chance for argument, and no chance for your heart to win over, taking your essentials and sentimental possessions with you.
You stood in your home, looking at everything inside, at all the memories that you shared in there. From when you had first looked at the house, to buying it, to Aemond's insistence on christening every single surface in the house to make it yours, all giggles and smiles, pleasure and joy.
But gone were those days, gone was the joy and the giggles, the pleasure and the smiles, and so with shaky fingers, you ripped off your wedding ring, finger feeling bare in its absence as you left it atop the pages. 
At first you were just hoping to get some space to clear your head and not be manipulated by your husbands lies and very convincing words again. You knew that if you gave him a chance, you would be stuck. You knew that if he pleaded, if he begged, if he smiled with his signature smirk, it would be your downfall. He knew you far too intimately now. He knew how to get you to bend to his will. So you booked the nearest ticket you could and raced to the airport, not once looking back.
You had just landed in Paris when you turned your phone back on, watching the screen as it lit up, where you were immediately bombarded with multiple missed calls from him and a barrage of texts that became more, and more aggressive as time went on. 
It was your fault really, to poke the dragon the way you had.
And yet you still did it, answering one of his frantic calls to hear the cool and icy tone of Aemond, barely keeping it together on the other end. 
“Where are you?” He had asked, voice deep and quiet, small growl on the end; a tell tale sign that he was furious. 
The airport was loud around you, people moving to their next gates, or stopping to move to the small cafes to eat, others continuing onwards towards the baggage claim to collect their luggage. 
“It's none of your business.” You had responded, tone clipped, irritation and anger surging through you at his audacity to even be mad.
“I think it’s plenty my business. You’re my wife.”
“Not anymore. Have your solicitor talk to mine. Sign the papers, Aemond.”
You heard him breathe heavily into the speaker, “If you think for one fucking second that I’m going to-“
You pressed the red button on your phone and hung up on him, shoving your phone into your back pocket as you moved lazily through the queue to get through customs. 
By the time you had gotten out the other end, you checked your phone again. 
There was only one text on the screen that had sent panic blaring through your mind. 
‘See you soon.’
You hadn’t planned to run, you hadn’t even planned to leave the country indefinitely, you just needed an out, but Aemond’s aggression had extended it, triggering your flight instincts. You didn’t believe that he would hurt you, but this new anger had frightened you. This new Aemond frightened you.
But Aemond Targaryen’s anger was not new to you either, his possessiveness was not new, and at one point you had even found it endearing. But after years of being married to what you thought was the man of your dreams, the other shoe dropped, and the true man was revealed. 
So you made quick work of it, going to an international bank, taking every single cent out of your combined account.
You knew he wouldn’t struggle financially from such a loss, having another seperate offshore account, or two, or five if you were really counting. Not to mention his inheritance which sat in a vault in Budapest.
Comes with being descended from royalty.
But in the end, you knew you needed every dollar if you were going to get away from him and make it stick.
So you got a new passport, ID, and hitchhiked your way across several countries until you finally settled, finding a cottage, nestled in the woods, a solid thirty minute drive from town, buying it from the local farmer in cash. No contract. No deed. Just cash and his silence. 
And that’s where you had been ever since.
You took your tea to the window, settling against the nook, pillows and blankets strewn all over as you curled inside. You looked out at the trees, the sun slowly setting for the day. 
It was cold in your cottage, not too cold, but cold enough. Winter had come early that year, and you had used more logs of wood for the fire than you had thought you would have needed. 
It was strange, to be so far away from the life you used to live. To be so removed from the world. But in some ways it was good. You had no social media, having deactivated every single one you had, and you also had barely any use of your phone unless you turned on the broadband, which was shaky at best and if it was windy, the reception would cut out.
The only people you really spoke to anymore was the people who lived in the town just a ways away, and Sara, who called every Sunday like clockwork, well actually like clockwork, you needed to turn the broadband on for Skype to work on the laptop you had taken with you.
In the almost year you had been gone, you had taught yourself how to make your own clothes, pickle and preserve foods, and even became quite handy at baking the odd loaf of bread here and there. The farmers whose cottage it was previously had left his belongings behind, taking only his clothes and things of memory with him.
There were books almost everywhere, the old man having been an avid reader, and amongst the books had been one on horticulture, and so slowly but surely, you had grown your own self sustaining vegetable patch. It wasn’t perfect, but it prevented you from going into town too often, and also allowed you to not seek employment just yet.
That would come later when Sara would tell you that Aemond would sign the papers. 
But every Sunday was the same.
“Any news?” You asked her that morning, Sara had frowned, pixelated to hell, but the frown still evident on your screen.
“Nope. Nothing. The asshole won’t sign them still. Solicitor can’t even find him to talk.”
You sighed, wiping hands down your face angrily. 
Why was he doing this?
Why wouldn’t he just let you go?
Something about it made your skin crawl. 
Those messages, those calls. 
The ‘See you soon’ text. 
Something had snapped in Aemond, and you didn’t like it one bit. 
Your only consolation was that you were far away with a new name, new life, hidden amongst rolling green hills and large forests.
“How’s Cregan?” You changed the subject, and Sara had given you an update on everyones lives, her brothers first, and his new girlfriend. Then to all your other friends who you longed to see again. 
But not yet, you just needed a little more time and for your husband to agree to the divorce. 
When the sun had lowered in the sky, you moved to turn the lights in the house on, throwing some logs into the fire and lighting them with a match. You made sure to thank the Gods for solar panels. 
The warmth of the fire heated up the small cottage quickly, and you made quick work of reheating a lamb soup you made a few days earlier, crisp homemade bread on the side with butter from a nearby dairy farmer.
It was hearty and warm, and filled you up, having a soporific affect on you. You had a glass of red wine as a treat afterwards, bought from the local markets and found yourself sinking deeper into fatigue. 
It was a routine of sort, wake, eat, read, work on the garden or house, eat, drink, sleep. It was comfortable, and it eased much of your worries, always keeping busy. You didn’t realise how stressed and anxious the life you used to live made you.
The week went by, much the same. 
The same routine. 
The same walls, and floors, and rooms. 
Same window nook, and cups of tea, and warming your hands by the fire.
By the time Saturday rolled by, you had been elated, excited even, to get out and look at the homemade wares and farm grown produce. To see the people you had grown to care about and make as your quiet friends. Still at arms length of course with your fake new life, but you let them in more than you had intended to. 
It was never a large market, merely the other people who lived in or around the tiny town. But it was cozy, sweet, and some faces were more familiar than others. You looked forward to seeing them all and catching up on their weeks, especially an older lady named Lucy, who crocheted and knitted some of the most wonderful things. She had kind grey eyes, and would always insist on you taking something from her for free.
Today was no different.
“You make this most difficult, hen.” The grey haired woman frowned, coming round the side of her small stall to shove a large, grey knitted jumper into your arms, the same colour as her eyes.
You shook your head, “Lucy, please, at least let me give you some money for it.” Grabbing the soft wool that was pressed against your chest.
The older lady smirked, hands up in the air in submission, “It’s too late,” Her voice was thick with a Scottish accent, “You best be taking that, girly. It’ll be a cold winter that comes round this year, I feel it in my bones already.”
You sighed, “Then let me give you some money for it, and you can buy some more wool to make yourself some warm socks.” Fishing around in your bag to find some cash to give her. 
Lucy crossed her arms across her chest, “Gonny no dae that. If you give me any money I’ll be right offended by you, I’ll gie ye a skelpit lug. It’s a gift, you dafty.”
You shook your head and chuckled, there was no point in fighting.
You would never win anyway.
“Fine.” You acquiesced, “But I’m coming to drop you some muffins and scones when I make them next week.”
The older lady sat down heavily in her chair behind the stall, “I expect nothing less. Will you bring some strawberries from yer plot? Dang caterpillars got into mine and tore them to shreds.”
“I’ll bring you a mix of goodies from my wonderful garden that has no caterpillars.” You teased, rubbing the woollen jumper between your fingers, “Thanks again, Lucy, but you’re a menace.”
“Got to be when yer married to my husband.” Lucy joked, but it made your heart race instead.
You swallowed thickly and smiled shakily at the woman, nodding before bidding her a goodbye. 
You walked through the rest of the market for a while, getting some fresh honey from a local farmer, some potatoes for a stew later on, and even buying yourself a new handmade mug.
It was a bustling affair, small children giggling with their parents, and older members of town who had been born and raised there walking about and stopping to talk with their life long companions. 
Bright bunches of flowers caught your attention, and you moved over to look at them all.
Native flowers of all kinds were bunched together; roses, petunias, anything that could survive the chillier climate. And as you looked at a peculiar shaped purple flower, hooded like a bell, the hair on the back of your neck stood up.
A shiver rolled down your spine, and instinctually you turned, eyes darting around the rest of the market, looking at the sea of people, young and old, walking with their wares, chatting amongst each other or smiling. 
Not one had that familiar head of silver hair.
You breathed out a sigh, shaking your head.
It’s fine.
You’re fine.
You’re safe.
It’s just your anxiety. It was probably just Lucy’s comment that set you on edge.
Not even Sara truly knew where you were. 
You looked back at the flowers again, eyes on the purple ones that were nestled amongst pea flowers and other pinks and yellows.
“Devils Helmut.” The man told you, noting your interest in its peculiar shape, “Monkshood to others, or Wolfsbane to those witchy ones.” His eyes looked at you intently, “You ok? Yer lookin’ a bit peely wally.”
He was tall, older, but not by much, with deep brown eyes and wavy brunette hair that came to his shoulders, tucked behind his ears. His jaw was sharp, a nice shadow across the skin from his stubble, with lips that were full and pulled upwards slightly. He had broad shoulders and large hands, tiny freckles dusting the pale skin as he watched you. 
He was relatively new to town like you, but not really. Duncan, you remembered, had moved back to the little town after his father had passed away, inheriting the plot of land that was next to yours. Lucy had spilled the tea, over a cup of tea, about him with you a few months before, telling you that he was an eligible bachelor with a wink, trying to set the two of you up.
And although he was undeniably attractive, you worried for the implications of getting to know him, and eventually having to tell him about your marriage, and why you were truly where you were. You doubted the man would want anything to do with your baggage.
“I’m okay, just a bit cold. How have you been?” You asked him, the feeling of being watched prickling at the back of your head.
“Fairly good.” Duncan rolled his r deeply, same low Scottish timbre as Lucy, distracting you from the rancid feeling that curled in your gut, “The winter’s come early this year.”
Duncan leant a hand against the table, and you noted that there was no ring on his finger.
Stop that.
“That’s what Lucy said too. Can definitely feel it.”
Duncan looked pointedly at the jumper still in your hands, “And what’s she given you this time?”
Unfolding the jumper in your arms you held it up, holding it against yourself to show him, “A new jumper. Will be perfect when it gets colder. Wish she’d stop throwing things at me and not letting me pay though.”
Duncan laughed, a deep chortle that rumbled his chest and warmed your cheeks, “That’s Lucy for you. She does the same to me too, the auld blether.”
You laughed heartily, “We should go in doubles to the markets when you’re not selling. There’s strength in numbers, you know.”
Oh gods. Why did you say that?
A soft smile pulled on his lips, “You don’t know Lucy well enough if you think we’d stand a chance against her. She’d bowl us over without even blinking.”
Another laugh, and a shrug, "Worth the try.”
Duncan’s eyes scanned your face softly before he stepped forward, grabbing the bunch of flowers you had been looking at from their little vase, holding them out towards you, “Here.”
You looked at the flowers in his hands and frowned, “What?”
“Take them.” He insisted, “You looked right keen on the Monkshood, mean bloody flower that one. Be careful you don’t touch it too much.”
You shook your head, tucking your jumper into your bag, “I can’t possibly-“
“-Please. I insist.”
You reached forward to take the flowers from him hesitantly, feeling guilt bubble inside of you. What was with all these people and their generosity? It was going to give you an aneurism. 
Your fingers brushed against his, and the warmth carried up your arm and straight into your chest. Duncan must have felt it too, because a soft blush creeped across his freckled cheeks.
Holding the bunch of flowers to your chest you smiled.
“You don’t have any pets at home? Any cats that might try and make a snack of the flowers?” Duncan pointed to the Monkshood.
You shook your head, “No it’s just me.”
His eyes danced as he nodded, and you felt as if you had answered his second question without him even having to ask.
“Thank you. They’re beautiful.”
A large hand waved the thanks away, “Dinnae worry about it. Though, I have heard good things about yer baking.”
“Have you now? Has Lucy spilt all my secrets?”
A smirk, “Not yer secrets no. But yer baking, yes.”
Feeling bold, you smirked back, “I could make you something, if you’d like." You held up the flowers in show, "As a thanks, of course.” 
“What can you make?”
“Anything you want.” You said quieter, swallowing the anticipation that rose in your throat.
“Can you make a good scone?”
You scoffed, “Easiest of things to bake.”
Duncan mirrored your stance, pursing his lips, “Guess I’ll have to be the judge of that then. Do you have enough wood for yer fire? Snow will be falling soon, and we dinnae want you chittering in the cold.”
“I’ve got some left, but I know I’ll probably have to go over to Douglas and Lucy’s to get some more.”
The brown haired man paused in thought, tongue in cheek before he spun around, crouching down to rifle through a bag beneath his table, pulling out a pen and paper. 
Duncan placed the small notebook in front of you.
“How about this, you give me yer number, and I’ll come round and bring you some more wood, maybe chop some for the fire as well, and you can thank me by making some scones. I can bring some of Elsie’s jam with me.” Duncan looked up at you, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. 
And although he had spoken with confidence, it was clear that he was just as nervous as you. 
It was hard to fight the heat that creeped up your neck. Excitement and anticipation coursing through you, the feeling of being desired making you giddy. 
It had been so long.
You bit your bottom lip softly nodding, leaning down to write your home phone number, making a note to plug the old thing in, praying that it still works, as well as your address into the notebook.
Duncan smiled softly, taking it back and looked at the note, “You didn’t have to write down yer address, I know you bought Macnair’s property a while back, we're practically neighbours. Not accounting for the acres between us.”
“Oh.” You laughed softly, “Sorry, I didn’t know you knew him.”
“Hard to not know everyone here, especially when you grew up around them all. Plus, hard to not notice the bonnie lass who moved here. Quite the stir you created.”
You shook your head and blushed again, Gods damn him, “Not my intention.”
You both stood shyly for a moment, staring at each other, a warm pleasant tension building around the two of you. 
Duncan cleared his throat, and clapped his hands together softly, “Right. Well, It’s a dreich day, so you best be off before the rain comes again.” He held the notebook up in his hand and shook it lightly, “You’ll be seeing me soon then. I’ll be coming to collect some of those scones.”
You grinned, and held the flowers gently in show again, “I hope they’re up to your standards. Thanks again for the flowers. I’ll see you.”
“Looking forward to it.”
-
The blaring ring of the Skype call filled your cottage. You raced from the kitchen to the desk, answering Sara’s call with a bright smile.
“Sar!” You smiled, pulling out your chair to sit in it, looking at your best friends face. But her excitement did not match yours, and instead, her face filled you with dread.
“Sar, what’s wrong?” 
You watched as Sara visibly swallowed, leaning towards her computer, “Aemond’s left the country.”
Chills ran over your body.
“Oh, he must have a conference in Rome or Budapest. He always used to-“
“-No.” Sara interrupted you, and her voice instilled a rising sense of fear that you had been battling with for months, “Y/n, I don’t think that’s it. He’s already been gone over a week. That’s why the solicitor couldn’t talk to him him.”
Your heart raced in your chest, blood rushing in your ears.
Sara continued as you felt the walls around you move closer, “That’s why the solicitor couldn’t get in contact with him. They went to his office. Apparently he’s on leave, not even Alys was there.”
You licked your lips, swallowing dryly, “What do I do? Fuck, Sara, what do I do?”
“Don’t panic. He doesn’t know where you are! Hell, I don’t even know where you are.”
“I know, I know. But still…” You paused, breathing shallowly, “Sara, I went to the markets yesterday, and it was… Off. Something was off… And I just couldn’t shake this feeling that I was being watched.” You felt like you were going to be sick.
Sara’s face fell, head turning to talk to someone else quietly in the room.
“Who’s that?”
“Just Cregan. He’s talking to Helaena.”
You scoffed sadly, “Helaena won’t know anything. She didn’t even know about Alys.”
Sara shrugged, image becoming pixelated, “I-…-ow…-bu-….-o….-harm…-“
“Sar, you’re cutting up.” 
You swore, swatting the computer lightly as her image froze.
Fucking broadband. Gods, maybe you should invest in getting a satellite dish here. At least you could get some cable tv if you did.
“-come to you.” Sara unfroze, the pixels evening out to an almost smooth image.
You groaned, “I didn’t catch any of that. Fucking internet cut out.”
“Can you get a satellite or something like a normal person and not be such a hermit? I said, why don’t I come to you.”
“I couldn’t ask that of you, Sar. Besides, he wouldn’t hurt me, not that he’d ever find me. He’s just an asshole. Probably curse me out and tell me I’m making it all up.”
Sara’s face dropped again, and you wished she was pixelated so you couldn’t see it, the image making your skin crawl, “Y/n. Theres something you don’t know.”
You straightened in your chair, “Is Alys pregnant?”
“No. She’s too old for that. Something else. Something Jacaerys told Cregan one night years ago. I didn’t want to tell you then, you guys were so in love, and I had never seen you so happy. I just,” She sighed, “I didn’t even really believe it until recently.”
“Sar, you’re scaring me.”
She shook her head, “I know, I know. But as you said, he doesn’t know where you are, and he won’t find you. But Y/n, Aemond isn’t who we think he is.”
“Are you about to tell me he’s some sort of international spy, or politician in hiding?” You tried to joke, but the joke fell flat.
Sara’s head looked to the side before back at the screen, “When Aemond was young, he had a temper. A real bad one. Never got along with his nephews.” She took a steadying breath, “When Lucerys was thirteen and Aemond was nineteen, he attacked him. It was probably years of pent up anger after the accident, a fight had been brewing, but he didn’t stop. No-one could stop him, Y/n. It was bad. Really bad.”
Your stomach roiled.
“Y/n, Lucerys nearly died.”
Your mouth gaped open as you could scarcely get air into your lungs. 
Oh gods.
Oh gods.
“Breathe.” Sara cooed through the computer, “Girl, you need to breathe.”
You sucked in a sharp breath, hand rubbing your chest, “What the fuck?”
“I know. I know. But they were young, I mean, Aemond was a lot older, but still. They were boys. And Aemond would never do anything like that to you. Not that he will ever find you.”
You counted your breaths as Sara spoke to you, trying to get the room to stop spinning.
“Y/n, y-….I-…t wi-…ll be fine-…. I-… ca-…n…-“
You growled at your screen, standing up in anger and frustration, anxiety pulling cruelly at your gut. You paced in front of the desk as you waited for your friend to come back into view. 
When she de-pixelated and came back, you leant heavily against the table.
“You got your phone with you?” You asked, rocking back and forth on your heels.
“Yea.” Sara lifted her phone to the screen.
“Okay, I’m going to give you my address. When do you think you can come?”
A cry flew from your lips. 
The cottage was bathed in complete darkness, generator slowing to halt outside, the soft hum of electricity disappearing. Your heart lurched into your throat as you stood in the darkness. Skype screen blaring a ‘Lost Connection’ notification at you.
You took shaky breaths, trying to calm yourself. 
This wasn’t unusual. 
Just last month a squirrel had been trying to burrow into the electrical box for warmth and chewed through a cable. Luckily for you, Douglas had come over to fix up the wiring and helped you on your way. But with all that had been happening, it gave you a right scare. 
Your heart did not slow in your chest, nor did you calm with the way your ears pricked at any noise inside or out. You stumbled through the darkness of the cottage to the kitchen, searching beneath the sink for your emergency torch. 
Grasping it in your hand, you clicked it on, lone beam of light shining a path for you through the house to the front door. You crept slowly forward, the sound of your loud breathing in your ear as you got to the door.
You would have to go out and flip the switches manually, and make sure the damned squirrel wasn’t back. 
Throwing on your wellies, you unlocked the four deadlocks you had installed on your door one by one until you opened it wide, the valley blanketed in the darkness of the night, clouds shrouding the moon and stars. The shadows of the forest around your house made you more on edge, every trunk or branch causing your eyes to linger that moment longer to decipher what it was.
But they were just that.
Trees. 
You trudged around the side of the cottage, shoes crunching on the ground below as you made your way to the back. The icy air nipped at your skin, and you tugged the jumper that Lucy had knitted tightly around you. 
They were right, winter had come early this year. 
You would have to thank her later.
When you reached the electrical box, you tugged it open, shining the torch on all the different switches inside. 
The main switch was flicked off.
For fucks sake. 
The broadband must have blown it out. 
The cottage was old, and the electricals likely older. But the solar panel were new, and you had a sneaking suspicion that perhaps the different generations of technology were clashing. You briefly wondered how costly it would be to have someone come to rewire the house for you.
As you looked at all the other switches, making sure they all looked in order, and the wires coming from out the back were all in tact, you felt the hair on the back of your neck stand on end.
You never liked coming out here in the dark. 
It was scary, and although there was nothing out here to hurt you, unless there was a miracle lone pack of wolves that came strolling by, which you knew could never happen, since Lucy had told you wolves were hunted to extinction there. So it was just you, the trees and the moon. 
The sound of a twig snapping in the woods made you spin on your heel, shining the torch out at the trees in vain. The light didn’t reach very far, illuminating just the front row of trunks, leaving the rest to be bathed in its dense darkness. Your heart thumped in your chest as your eyes scanned the woods. 
It’s fine. 
It’s nothing. 
I’ve just worked myself up. 
Gods.
It was probably just a deer or something.
You remembered the day you woke up to a whole herd of deer outside your cottage one morning, quietly munching on the grass outside. You had nearly screamed with joy, but kept the excitement inside, tiptoeing to sit in your window nook and watch them graze. 
Holding the box open with one hand, you popped the small torch in your mouth with the other, holding it in your teeth as you flicked all the switches off, and then back on again.
You looked to the house. 
Still dark. 
You groaned, and did it again. 
Again, nothing. 
No hum of the motor kicking back on. 
“Third times a charm.” You mumbled with the torch in your teeth, flicking the power back on.
The steady buzz of electricity came back, and the lights from the house illuminated a path for you back inside. You all but slammed the box shut and sped back inside to the safety of your cottage, spinning quickly to shut the door behind you, rapidly locking it tight with the deadlocks. 
One, two, three, four.
You sighed a breath of relief.
See? Nothing. Just country electricals and wild deer.
You toed off your gumboots, hanging your keys on the hook beside the door. 
You needed a glass of wine. 
That would do it, a glass of wine and maybe some baking.
“Took me a while to find you.”
Ice ran down your back. Your heart leapt out of your throat as you spun on your feet, fear crashing over you. 
You blinked.
And there he was.
Standing in your lounge room. 
He had found you.
Aemond’s jaw ticked.
You were so in shock, so terrified that you couldn’t move, entirely rooted to the floor in place as your breath was caught in your throat. Your mouth opened as you tried to suck in air, head feeling light, but you couldn’t even speak. Couldn’t even let the scream out that clawed at the back of your throat. 
He had found you.
Aemond took a step towards you, dressed in all black, his long silver hair pulled away from his face in a braid, “I told you, I would see you soon.”
Instincts kicked in, and like a startled deer, you ran. Tearing down the short hallway to get to your room, where you knew the old shot gun Macnair had left behind was hiding beneath the bed. But Aemond was quicker, and you heard his loud steps before you felt him, grabbing you from behind as you kicked your legs back and screamed, trying to get out of his grip.
“Did you really fucking think you could get away from me?” He grunted, holding you impossibly tight, “That I’d ever let you go? It was just by chance that I saw you today, I didn’t even think to go to the markets.” He explained, and tears prickled in your eyes. 
You were right, you were being watched.
“But there you were. The Gods brought us back together again, Y/n. I was about to give up. But it was fate that our paths crossed again. It was meant to be.”
You thrashed against him, his arm locking around your chest and neck tightly. You turned your head and bit down on his arm, hard, tasting blood fill your mouth. Aemond hissed, tearing himself from your teeth as he dropped you to the ground, knees collapsing beneath you as you scrambled along the floor to get away.
“Fucking bitch.”
Pain rippled up your scalp as Aemond gripped you by your hair, throwing you back against the floor. Your head hit the wooden boards, eyes sluggishly blinking as the room spun and nausea curled in your stomach.
Your husband stood over you, sneering.
“You’ve been hiding out here for months whilst I’ve been looking for you. Having an affair with that other man who gave you the flowers.” Duncan, “Almost paid him a visit, but that can be done later. Spent all this time searching for my ungrateful cunt of a wife, but you didn’t hide well enough.”
His lone eye narrowed as he looked down at you, lips pulled back in a sneer. Strands of his silver hair had fallen from his braid and puffed with each breath as he stared down at you, chest rising and falling roughly.
You scrambled backwards, nails digging into the wood as he stalked forward, hunting you like prey.
“Money talks. And I have a lot of money. Which you would know, since you cleared out our joined account. Very naughty, Y/n.”
“Fuck you. Get out!” You screamed, kicking a leg at him.
Aemond laughed, dodging your kick, “I’m not going anywhere. You’re my wife.”
“I’m not your fucking wife, you psycho.”
“No?” Aemond paused, cocking his head, “Then why are we still on the marriage register? Hm?” 
Your back hit the side of the bed, hands swiping underneath desperately in search as you kicked at him again. Aemond swatted your legs away with ease, smirking down at you meanly. But he couldn’t block your kicks forever, and your foot hit him squarely in his groin.
Aemond grunted, doubling over in pain.
You took your chance, desperate to escape as you crawled forward, away from the bed, dizzy and horrified, all instincts telling you to run, not fight.
Besides, you didn’t even know how to use the gun, let alone if it was even loaded.
You stood, side stepping him as you moved to run out the bedroom door.
Your head hit the wooden frame with a crack, smashed into it by Aemond’s large hand. Stars bloomed behind your eyes, pain shooting through your skull. You tried to catch yourself on the door, your nails digging painfully into the wood as you cried, the hand gripping your hair, pulling you back into the room. 
Aemond threw you onto the bed, looming over you, “Do you know how long I’ve waited for this moment? To see you again? How hard it was to find you? And you’re acting like such an ungrateful little bitch.”
You grunted and cried, trying to get away, desperate to get yourself off the bed as he pushed you back on it. 
“Get off me!”
“But a husband needs his wife,” He leered down at you, pupil wide, “I’ve been dying without you, Y/n. I’ve been bereft ever since you left me. Abandoning me like a coward.” Aemond shook his head, “You could never really leave me. You’re mine.”
“I hate you!” You screamed at him.
Aemond smiled down at you softly, stilling for a moment. Your heart stuttered in your chest as you looked at him, “No you don’t.”
His smile dropped from his face in an instant, shadow cast over his scarred cheek as he looked at you blankly, “And if you do, I’ll make you love me again.”
His hands slid down your body, and began to tear at your pants, busting the button from your jeans, sending it flying across the room, then ripping the zipper apart. 
Sobs flew from your lips as you pushed up at him, desperate to make him stop, fear escalating within you, “Stop! Aemond. Stop!” 
Your fingers tangled in the bed sheets as you kicked at him, knuckles going white as you tried to drag yourself up and away from him on the bed, nails pulling sharply as you used every ounce of strength you had left. The room still spun as your head throbbed with every movement or jolt of your body.
Long fingers dipped beneath the waistband of your jeans and tugged them and your underwear down your legs as you struggled and cried and clawed at him.
“Been a while since you played this game with me.” Aemond chuckled darkly, “Do you remember when you used to pretend you didn’t want it? When you’d say ‘Stop! Please, no!’ and cum around my cock all coy?”
You blinked, memories erupting inside your brain. But those days were consensual, that was fun, something he had even introduced you to. But now? This? This was different. This was not a game. This was not play.
You kicked at his chest, heel clipping his shoulder sharply, a grunt falling from his lips. Aemond slapped a leg away, other hand gripping your thigh tightly. You cried out in pain as his fingers dug into your skin meanly, pain rippling up it.
Your hands tried to pry his fingers away, but the glinting of his wedding ring caught your attention.
He was still wearing it.
He ripped open his belt, and terror struck inside of you.
“Aemond, no. Please. Stop! Aemond stop, please!”
But all the man did was smile down at you crudely, “Gods, I’ve missed your begging. So sweet and small when you’d get on your knees and beg for my cock.” He pulled his length from his slacks, hard and angry, a drop of arousal smeared across his tip, “You’re so fucking beautiful. And you’re mine. My wife.”
You felt like you were going to throw up, thrashing beneath him as he crawled atop of you.
You dug your nails into his arms, trying to swipe at his face and neck, your teeth bared, ready to bite down onto whatever limb came into their collision course.
“Stop.” He growled, slotting himself between your thighs, overpowering you completely.
You sobbed beneath him, begging him to stop, screaming at him to get off, grunting as you twisted beneath the sheets, your head still spinning with small stars that continued to multiply in front of your eyes, the corners of your vision shrouded in black. 
In one final attempt, you went for what you knew would hurt him, what you knew would stop him, slow him down.
Give you time.
And so with the heel of your hand, you thrust it upwards into his face, connecting with his prosthetic eye, clipping the painful scar tissue that would sometimes wake him in the middle of the night in tears.
Aemond’s head withdrew with a sharp and pained cry, one palm pushing into his eye socket as he tried to calm the agony. You pushed against his shoulders, trying to move out from underneath, but Aemond was quicker, and his enraged gaze landed on you. The hand that had been pushing into his face, curled into a tight fist.
Your head whipped to the side, and a cool blanket of darkness washed over you. 
You laid in it for a while, with no thoughts, no terror, no fear, just that darkness that curled around you quietly.
It was nice for a moment, almost comforting.
Just the feeling of not being there.
But then the blanket faded away, and pain bloomed in your face, iron on your tongue as you blinked in confusion. 
There was movement and a weight atop you. Something sliding against your core. 
And then, pain.
You whined, hands shoving against the chest above you as Aemond speared you on his length, thrusting sharply and dryly into you as he reached his hilt, the tip of his cock pushing painfully against your cervix. 
You gagged quietly, head throbbing as the room spun, your arms weakly pushing at him, feeling as though they were made out of lead. Each movement of your body sent pain rippling through your skull, and bile into your mouth.
“Take it like a good wife.” Aemond growled, pulling his length out of you before thrusting it back in sharply.
You cried loudly, pain spreading through your core as you felt him tear at your walls.
He was always larger, much larger than anyone you had had before, and when you were together, he would have to spend ample time to prepare you, but you would always be wet to help. 
The only wetness you felt now, was from your own blood.
Aemond began a harsh and rough pace, with long sharp thrusts that jolted you up the bed on his length, cries of pain bleeding from your lips as you cried, turning your head away from him.
You still tried to push at his chest weakly, nails scratching at him through the dark shirt he wore, but it was no use. 
He grunted above you, picking up his pace, wrapping his hands around your neck for leverage. He squeezed, not tightly, but as a warning, and your eyes shot open to look up at him, hands clawing at his to try and get him to release you. The more you dug your nails into his skin, the more he tightened his hands until you were wheezing beneath him. 
“This doesn’t have to be difficult, you just need to give in, baby. Come on. Be a good girl for me. Be a good girl for daddy.” He groaned, one hand leaving your neck to pull up the soft woollen jumper to reveal your breasts to the room. 
Your nipples stiffened in the chill of the air, fireplace not having been lit yet and the cool of the early winter air seeping into the cabin.
“Fuck.” He hissed, hand coming to squeeze your breast roughly, pinching a stiffened peak between his fingers, rolling it through forefinger and thumb.
You whined in protest, hand trying to move his away.
Aemond lightly slapped your face, “Behave.” He accentuated with a hard thrust, another warning, sending pain shooting through your gut, “I’ll even let you cum. Be a good girl for me and I’ll let you cum, hm? Is that what my pretty wife wants?”
You shook your head weakly, tears overspilling from your eyes and down your cheeks, a sob working its way through your lips. 
Aemond bent down and licked the trail of tears from your cheek, “Fuck.” He moaned, thrusting into you faster, “Forgot how fucking tight you were. Gods. Gonna have to make up for time lost aren’t we? You’ve been such” Thrust, “A naughty” Thrust “Girl.” Thrust.
Your core clenched around him instinctually, Aemond adjusting his hips upwards so that his length would brush against the soft spongey spot within. His pace faltered, and a smirk pulled at his lips. Warmth spread through your gut.
“There she is.”
“No. Please, stop. Aemond, please. I’m begging you.” You wailed, hands gripping his arms as your nails clawed into him.
Your husband smirked down at you, “Not so cocky now that you’re mine again, huh? Where’s that bratty attitude from on the phone?”
Aemond continued to fuck at you from the new angle, one hand on your neck in a promise, the other pulling a limp leg up his hip, revulsion barreling through you as you found yourself growing wet from the angle, your body betraying you. 
The sound of your slick was loud in the room, adding to your shame. 
Aemond only tutted at you, “See? Only I can make you feel like this. Duncan would never be able to make you cum the way I do. No-one can. You’re mine. This pussy, is mine. And what I do with it is for me alone.”
The light in the room was too bright above you, making your head spin even more, the clapping of his hips against yours loud in your ears as his thrusts rocked your head and body backwards, a familiar coil beginning to wind in your stomach.
It was all too much. 
Even the smell of him overwhelmed you.
“Can feel you squeezing my cock. You gonna cum for me, baby?” He cooed, mocking you.
“P-Please st-op, Aemond. It h-hurts.” You sobbed.
“Oh it hurts does it?” The sneer was back, Aemond’s head leant down beside your ear as he pushed to his limit, your walls gripping him tightly, and whispered, “Now you know how it felt when you left me.”
You weeped.
“I hope it fucking hurts.” Aemond leant back, fucking into you with new found vigour, sitting back on his haunches as he pulled your hips onto him, the coil getting tighter and tighter. 
It was horrifying, to find your body finding pleasure from his assault, but you couldn’t stop it, no matter how hard you tried. He knew you too well. Knew your body too intimately. Knew everything that made you tick, twitch, or moan. He had spent hours, years, learning how to expertly map out your body, and he knew your body better than you did.
A slick thumb pressed down on your bud. 
“Come on, baby, cum for me. Wanna feel you cum on me. If you cum for me, I’ll forgive you, okay? You cum for me and I’ll know you love me back. Come on, be a good girl, cum for me.”
His thumb swirled roughly against your bud, your hands tightening around him, unsure if you were pulling him toward you or pushing him away. Your mind hazy and confused, the world having been turned upside down. 
You came with a cry, back arching off the bed as Aemond praised you through it, fucking into you harder and faster. Warmth spread through your limbs, your eyes scrunched tightly shut, bright lights behind them as your skull throbbed.
Aemond fucked your limp body, thumb leaving your clit as he held your hips with both hands, drilling into your wetness with a painful force, pulling agonising pleasure from you. 
You weeped below him, keeping your eyes shut as you just wished for it to be over. For him to just finish. 
“Gonna fill you up. Gonna fill my pretty wife up so we can have a baby. Hm, doesn’t that sound nice? Start a family.”
You sobbed loudly, hiding your face in your hands as you turned your head away from him, the taste of blood still thick on your tongue from where he had struck you.
His pace became sloppy, thrusts uneven as he began to lose himself to pleasure. 
“Fuck!” He hissed, thrusting into you sharply as he came, hot ropes of cum coating your walls as he thrusted weakly through his climax.
You chest stuttered with sobs, head spinning, but exhaustion taking over. 
You were so tired. 
So tired.
You just wanted to sleep.
Wanted to fade away back to that darkness again. Back to nothing.
“Shh,” Aemond hushed you from above, dipping his head to press a gentle kiss against your wet cheek and forehead, “It’s okay now. I’m here. It’s okay.”
You sobbed even harder.
Aemond pulled out of you with a hiss, a small whimper falling from your own lips as you felt pain strum through your brutalised walls. He flopped back onto the bed, dragging your body up beside him as though you weighed nothing, black blooming before your eyes as you knocked your head against the pillow, a wave of sickness rising inside.
But you didn't fight it. 
There was no point. 
No escape. 
Nowhere to go.
Nowhere to hide. 
You couldn’t run, even if you wanted to.
And so you laid in his arms as he held you whilst you cried, curling into him as the tears kept coming. He cooed at you softly, rubbing a gentle hand up and down your arm in a way he always used to. 
It was so stomach turning, the different sides of Aemond, and if it wasn’t for the concussion that you certainly had, his actions alone would send your head spinning. 
Because this Aemond, the soft Aemond, was the one you had known. The one who used to hold you to him, and whisper words of praise. But that was a long time ago, and the Aemond who held you now was a different man. 
Someone you didn’t even know. 
This Aemond was not the man you married.
Aemond pressed another kiss to the top of your head again, “It’s okay, cry it out. I know you’re sorry. And it’s okay. I'll forgive you. Alys was a mistake, but she’s gone now. She won’t be a problem anymore, okay? It’s just you and me.”
You sobbed louder, and he pulled you closer to him, tangling his legs with yours.
“I know, baby." He cooed sweetly, but it was insincere, hollow, cold, "I’ve missed you too. I love you so much, Y/n." Aemond exhaled hotly at the top. ofyour head before his voice fell to barely a whisper, "So much, you don’t know what I’m willing to do to keep you with me.”
A chill rolled down your spine. 
You knew now what he was willing to do. 
And with the added news of what he did to Lucerys, you wouldn’t put it past him to harm anyone that came between you again. 
A wave of mourning crashed over you. 
Mourning your past. 
Mourning your future. 
And mourning the person that you would become with him. There was no escaping this.
Him.
You inhaled his scent deeply.
He still smelt as he always did, but there was a lingering smell of pine in his clothes. The pines from the woods surrounding your home. 
How long had he been out there?
How long had he been waiting?
“You’ll love me again, I know it. I’ll never leave you again. We will be happy together. Here.”
Your breath caught in your throat, eyes wide against his chest.
“You’ve chosen the best spot, baby. You always were clever, we can start our family here. Somewhere quiet, no-one around. Just you and me, and eventually the children. Like it was meant to be.”
A shiver rolled through you.
“Marrying you was the best decision I made in my life.” He kissed the top of your head again, smoothing your hair down with his hand lovingly, “I’ll make you see.”
You laid there as you cried, unsure of what to do, unsure of what to say. Having no real power over the situation, having no real way to escape or get out. If not for Aemond's sheer will, the four dead locks on the door assured it as well. He hummed softly as he let you cry, pain crashing through you in waves.
Aemond paused in thought, his thumb coming beneath your chin as he tilted your head to look up at him.
Your vision was fuzzy from the tears, and the edges were seeped in black, but you could see it. The crazed look in his eye as he gazed down at you with a hungry possessiveness. 
“Do you remember our vows?” He asked, watching as you blinked at him, your lip wobbling as you tried to stop the endless stream of sobs that worked their way up your throat.
His thumb brushed gently over your bottom lip, a sharp sting sparking in it as his finger brushed over the split.
And then he smiled at you, in the same way that he had the day of your wedding, lips pulled wide, teeth revealed.
Your heart fluttered in your chest as you looked at him.
The man you had loved, the man you had married and planned a future with. 
The man you had been on the run from.
His mouth parted again, smile becoming softer.
“Til death do us part.”
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lanadelnegan · 7 months
Note
Hi I’m kinda shy about this one. So the reader has been traveling with dead city cowboy Negan for awhile and she’s liked him for a long time but she’s a virgin and she wants him to take it.
Don't be shy bb, I am a slutttt for dead city Negan. Basically, think of this as if you were in Ginny's shoes, but you're 18.
Our Little Cabin
Dead City!Negan x Reader
Warnings: smut, 18+, NSFW, virgin reader, vaginal sex, fingering, family death (reader's mom), reader seduces the hell out of negan, extreme age-gap (reader is 18, negan is 50ish), masturbating (both), masturbating in front of Negan while he refuses to touch you, daddy-kink, breeding kink, cuddling, pure filth
A/n: If you like slow burn, sexual tension and a "hard to get" daddy Negan, this one is for you. I promise one day I'll finally write a fic without daddy-kink, but today is not that day.
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"Can we go home now, Negan? My legs hurt." I complain, dragging my feet lazily through the leaves.
He stops and sighs, resting his hands on his hips. I stop too and stare at him. That damn cowboy hat.. I swear he wears it just to tease me.. and it's working.
"Yeah, doll. Sun'll be going down soon anyway."
"Ugh thank god." My head falls back dramatically and he chuckles as we start our way back.
Negan took me under his wing a few months ago when some assholes attacked Oceanside, killing my family and everyone I know. I was lucky - if you wanna call it that - enough to escape. I ran into Negan in the woods and it's just been me and him ever since. I'm thankful for him, considering I never had a dad or father figure growing up. My mom was my best friend.. and now she's gone. But at least I have him.
I've grown attached to Negan over the recent months.. But something feels.. different lately. I'm not sure what suddenly changed over the last few weeks, but I've caught myself imagining things about him that I shouldn't. Even touching myself to the thought of him. I feel so guilty afterwards, but I can't stop. I've never been with anyone.. never kissed anyone.. never touched anyone. And my body is screaming at me for it. I can't even look at him anymore without imagining what he looks like under his clothes.
"Why're you so quiet, kid?" He glances at me as we walk.
Ugh, I hate it when he calls me kid.
I shrug. "Just thinkin'."
"About?"
"Doesn't matter." And I've convinced myself it doesn't. I'll never be with someone romantically, because for one.. it's the apocalypse. It's not like I have a school full of hot boys lined up ready to ask me to prom. Not that I'd give them a chance anyway. I'd probably be more into the teachers. And second, the man I want would never think of me that way.
"That's not true."
"You don't even know what I'm thinking, so how can you say that?"
"Anything you think about - worry about - matters to me, y/n. So, spill."
We finally make it back to our little cabin. We've been staying in it for awhile, stocking it with food and supplies. No one has found us yet.. It's kinda nice. But I won't get used to it. Because nothing good lasts forever.
I throw myself on the couch dramatically, as if our walk that we've done a hundred times now could've killed me.
"I don't know... I just, I feel like most kids - people - my age have already experienced more in life that I have."
"Like?"
"Sex." I blurt before I can stop myself. I look to Negan to see his reaction, but he's surprisingly not that alarmed. His eyebrows are raised as he studies me, probably more shocked that I actually had the balls to say that in front of him.
"Listen, I don't really feel comfortable doing the whole birds and bees talk with you."
My cheeks turn pink with embarrassment and I nod disappointedly.
"Sorry, it's just.. I - no one's really talked to me about it before. My mom said she would when I was ready.. but then she.. she.." I fight back the tears. I hate crying. You can't come across weak in the times we live in and I've been forced to be strong my entire life.
He looks at me finally and sighs, holding his arm out for me to come snuggle next to him. It's not the first time he's held me as I've cried over my mom. Won't be the last.
I bury my head in his chest, sniffling, as his hand rubs my back.
"Alright, kid. What do you wanna know?" He gives in, feeling sorry for me.
"Well, I know how it works, but I guess I just wanna know what it feels like." I feel him tense underneath me as he adjusts himself awkwardly.
"No boyfriends at Oceanside?"
"There were boys.. but none that I was interested in."
"You'll find someone when the time is right. You're still young."
"Well you don't have anyone, and you're.. not young."
"Jeez, kid. Thanks." He chuckles. "I did have someone. A few someone's actually. Lost them all to this cruel world." He admits and my heart hurts for him.
"Well, you have me now." I get more comfortable, laying my head in his lap and looking up at him. He shifts uncomfortably but eventually relaxes and even strokes my hair lightly.
"Yeah, I do. And nothing is going to happen to you. You're safe with me, doll." Butterflies swirl around in stomach, but I know he doesn't mean that in the way I wish he did. He sees me as a kid.. hell, as his kid. For a moment my heart sinks from jealously at the "someones" he mentioned. Lucky bitches.
"...Negan.. does it.. feel good?" I blush a little.
"Sex? .....Yeah, doll. It fucking feels good."
"Will you.. show me?" I stare up at him innocently and his hand abruptly stops stroking my hair.
He bends over, planting a kiss on my forehead. "Time for bed, darlin'." He pushes me gently up and off his lap before standing and heading to his room. The cabin is small but we each have our own rooms. His is the smaller one, right across from mine. He wanted me to have the bigger one.
I sit on the couch, feeling defeated and stupid. What was I thinking. I relax on the couch for a little longer, choosing to read a book to take my mind off what just happened. After an hour of barely keeping my eyes open, I close the book and head down the hall towards my room. I stop in front of Negan's door, peaking through the crack. He always leaves his door a few inches open just so he can hear if anything happens. My eyes widen when I notice the sheets are barely covering the lower half of his legs, revealing the rest of his body. His tan torso is exposed, showing his peppery chest hair, and his black boxers are low on his waist. I restrain myself from not jumping him right then.
I eventually make my way back to my room and change out of my clothes, throwing on some shorts and a tank top to sleep in. I can't get the image of Negan's body out of my head and find my hand slowly making its way towards my aching center once I'm finally in bed. I close my eyes, imaging Negan between my legs as I touch myself. I don't bother suppressing my moans, confident that Negan is fully asleep. "Mmm, Negan!" The sound of his name rolling off my tongue as I'm pleasuring myself brings me closer to the edge.
"Oh, Negan. Right there!" My door suddenly swings open and I snap my eyes open to see a worried Negan standing in my doorway.. still in his boxers. My hand flies out of my shorts and I throw the sheets over me.
"Oh my god, can you knock?!"
"I - you yelled for me." He says flustered. I notice the way his face reddens when he realizes what I was doing.
I gently pull the covers off me again and spread my legs a little.
"What are you doing, y/n?" He stands in front of me at the doorway, refusing to look at anything other than my eyes. That's okay.. I bet I can make him look at me down there. I like the challenge.
"What's it look like?" My bite the tip of my finger seductively at him before sliding my shorts to the side, completely revealing my pussy to him.
He glances down with a serious look across his face, like he can't believe I'm doing this. And neither can I. This is so unlike me, but I'm so desperate for him I don't even know how to control myself anymore.
The fact that he's still watching encourages me to continue. I use one hand to pull my shorts to the side and the other to slowly slide a finger through my wet slit. "I just wanna know what it feels like, daddy."
I study him closely, noticing the way his jaw ticks at the nickname. My eyes travel lower and I see his bulge through his boxers. It looks so big, but I'd be determined to make it fit no matter what.
My finger dips inside of me and I arch my back a little and moan, putting on a show for him. He stands with his back against the wall, refusing to move.
I start rubbing my clit slowly and get frustrated when he still isn't reacting. "Negan, please touch me."
He rubs a hand down his face with frustration. "Goddamn it, y/n."
"I just.. I need you. Please." I cringe at my desperate attempt to have him touch me. I need this man so bad it's embarrassing.
"I can't, baby."
"But you like watching me, don't you?"
I take it as a yes when he doesn't say anything and that's all I need before pushing myself over the edge. "Negan!" I cry out as my orgasm rushes through me. Even in the dark, I can see the lust burning through his eyes.
"Go to bed, y/n." He demands but I'm unable to read his tone. Is he mad, proud, annoyed?
I fall asleep at the thought of him giving in and touching me. Maybe if I think hard enough, I'll manifest it.. I heard that shit really works.
Negan's POV:
That girl is gonna be the fucking death of me.
She's been so flirty with me lately and I've been trying to ignore it. But fuck if she's not making it hard. Literally.. I'm hard as a fucking rock right now.
I refuse to touch my dick while thinking about her. She's thirty-fucking-three years younger than me for fuck's sake.
She's confused. She doesn't want me, and she damn sure isn't getting me. Apocalypse or not, it's still fucking wrong.
I drag a hand down my face and sigh. I shouldn't have watched her, but I couldn't look away. She flashed her fucking pussy right in my face and I just stood there.. watching her. Fuck me.
My dick is throbbing and I know I won't be able to sleep until I get some relief. "Fuck it."
I pull myself out of my boxers and immediately start stroking my dick. I think about anything but.. her. Fuck.. y/n. That pretty little wet pussy dripping right in front of me. The way she said my name when she came.
"Ahh, fuuuck. Y/n, fuck." I cum hard and fast and immediately regret it afterwards. Fuck is wrong with me.
I can't - and I won't let myself think about her like that again.
Y/n's POV:
I wake up before Negan and decide to read my book some more in the living room. It's a romance novel that I found one day in an abandoned car. I've read it four times already, but it seems to be the only romance I'll ever get in life, so why the fuck not.
"Morning, sunshine." Negan says sleepily as he walks towards the kitchen next to the living room. He grabs a handful of berries we picked yesterday and tosses them in his mouth before making me a cup full and putting them down next to me.
"Morning. Thanks." I say without looking at him.
He sits on the couch next to me. "You wanna talk about last night?"
My cheeks redden. "Nope."
"Okay, then I will." Great, here comes the lecture. "Y/n, I shouldn't have watched you. We both know that. But, I think you're just confused. It's just been the two of us for months now and you're all young and.. fucking horny and shit. But, us? It can't happen."
I stay silent, pretending to read my book.
"Seriously? The silent treatment? You sure did have a lot to say last night."
I remain stubbornly quiet, popping a handful of berries in my mouth.
"Y/n, I don't understand why you're upset right now. Talk to me."
"I'm not upset." I snap. "I'm embarrassed.. humiliated. I was stupid to think you'd ever be into me."
He sighs and I see his head drop out of the corner of my eye. "Darlin', if I was your age, I'd be all fucking over you. Trust me. Please don't be embarrassed, okay? You are hot as shit and any man your age would be lucky to have you. We can forget it happened if that's what you want." He holds his arm out again, and like always, I snuggle into him.
"I don't want to forget." My hand rests against his white t-shirt and I want so badly to slide underneath it and run my fingers through is tummy hair.
A moment of silence goes by before he finally whispers. "Me neither, doll."
I look up at him, my face dangerously close to his. "I love you, Negan."
His hand reaches up to caress my face as if he's scared to hurt me. "I love you too, baby... Just not like that."
He wipes the tear that falls from my cheek and my heart shatters in my chest.
One month later...
My feelings for Negan haven't faded; I'm just better at not showing them. We've been more touchier than usual... cuddling on the couch, holding hands when we walk, but nothing "inappropriate." We also haven't mentioned that night. It's like it never happened, which still hurts when I think about it.
I get done bathing myself off after dinner and slip into my usual sleepwear before crashing to the bed and pulling my book from the nightstand. I could quote every line in it by now.
I start to drift off right before a loud boom hits right outside my window, following a bright flash of lightning. I try to fall asleep, but every time I doze off, another loud boom jolts me awake. I toss and turn for an hour before deciding to do something I know I shouldn't.
I crack Negan's door open slowly, trying not to wake him and gently slip into bed next to him. I also may or may not have taken my sleep shorts off, leaving me in just my pink panties and black tank top. I ease underneath the covers and lay facing him. He's usually a light sleeper, so between the thunder and me sneaking into his bed, I'm surprised he's not awake.
I'm completely still for a good ten minutes, making sure he's still sound asleep before I make any movements. When he lets out a little snore, I slowly slide the blanket down off of him. I imagine myself reaching over and running my fingers through his thick chest hair. I keep sliding the covers down further and further, careful not to wake him, until I get to just below the waistband of his boxers. My eyes trail from the deep v in his abdomen to the black hairs peaking above his underwear and I let myself imagine what it would be like to touch him right now.. to slide my hand down his boxers and feel him. I've wondered how big he is for so long.. trying to steal glimpses of him through his pants when he walks, or catch him with the covers down while he's sleeping.
I decide to pull the covers slightly further down and my mouth gapes open at the sight. He's hard.. so hard that I can see the outline of him through his boxers as it threatens to poke through his underwear. My mouth waters at his size and I know if he ever put it in me, it would definitely hurt like hell.
After I've stared at it long enough to feel like a total creep, my eyes travel back up his body and I almost yelp when I see his head is slightly turned and his eyes are watching me curiously, as if he's been waiting for me to make a move.
"I - uh.. The thunder.. I got scared." I explain.
"Nice try, kid. Go back to bed."
"Negan, please. Just let me sleep here. Nothing weird, I just.. don't wanna be alone."
He sighs and that alone tells me he's going to let me. I hide my excitement as I turn over, facing away from him and snuggling into the covers. They smell like him.. musk and leather.. and the scent makes me practically feral. He's still on his back, but my ass is barely touching his side. It's hardly anything, and it's not like we haven't cuddled before, but the thought of my ass so close to him sets my insides on fire.
Another lightning strike hits outside his window this time and I flinch a little, not purposely meaning for my ass to press into him even more. He doesn't react and I wonder if he's already asleep.
"Negan...?" I say softly.
"Hm?"
"Will you hold me?"
"Y/n, you are seriously pushing it. Go to sleep."
a few minutes go by before another boom echoes in the distance and I jump a little again.
He sighs heavily and turns over, draping his arm over my waist and pressing his body firmly against mine. His dick is pressed against my ass, but it's not as hard anymore... and that hurts a little.
"Go to fucking sleep."
I hold his hand tightly against my lower stomach and embrace this moment with him. I want him so bad that I can literally feel my vagina throbbing. If it could speak, it would be meowing like a cat in heat right now. I close my eyes and imagine him sliding in me from behind. I get a little too lost in the thought and accidentally arch a little, grinding my ass further into him. I feel him grow to full length against me and the feeling is enough for me to squeeze my legs together, desperate for some pressure down there.
"Where the fuck are your shorts?" He says in a deep and sleepy voice.
I giggle as he breathes heavily into my neck before whispering again.
"What the hell am I gonna do with you, baby?"
"Touch me?"
"I'm already touching you, y/n. My fucking dick is basically between your ass cheeks."
"Not yet.. my panties are in the way." I slip my panties off my legs smoothly and discard them on the floor.
"Y/n." He warns but before he can tell me no, I'm bare from the waist down and pressing my ass back against him.
"Trying to give this old man a heart attack?" He chuckles deeply.
"I can try harder than that if you want me to." I tease.
"Fuck, baby. Go to sleep before I do something we'll both regret."
"Like what?"
"...Like pound that pussy so fucking good you'll never think about another man's cock but mine."
"If you love me, wouldn't you want to be the one to give that to me for the first time? Wouldn't you rather it be you than some asshole who doesn't care about me."
He doesn't answer, so I keep pressing him. I place my hand back on top of his resting against my stomach and slowly slide it lower towards my aching center.
"Don't start something you can't finish, darlin'."
"Oh, I'm very determined to finish." I spread my legs apart slightly to guide his hand over my wet center. His middle finger easily slides between my slippery folds and we both moan at the feeling.
"Goddamn. Fucking dripping for daddy. He growls in my ear before leaning up a little and pressing his lips to my neck from behind. I move my hand from his, letting him take control - finally.
His finger moves back and forth between my wet slit, gliding over my clit every few seconds and making me moan each time. His other hand slips under me and up to my neck, gently squeezing my throat.
"This what you wanted, baby?" He breathes in my ear and chills spread over every inch of my skin.
I nod quickly as I feel my orgasm build from just his light touch. He hasn't even put a finger in me and I'm already on the verge of tears.
As soon as his finger rubs tiny circles over my clit, I lose it.. moaning out for him.
"Thaaat's it, cum for daddy, babygirl."
"Negan!" I scream out as his hand goes from my neck to my mouth, muffling the sound.
"Don't need the dead hearing us, doll."
He kisses my neck once I've soaked his fingers and then brings them to his mouth.
"Mmm, fuck, this pussy tastes so good I might have to eat it everyday."
I turn around in his arms to face him. My hand goes up to hold his face and my fingers play with his gray hair. He kisses my forehead before meeting my gaze.
"This is so wrong, baby." He strokes my cheek gently.
"Can't be wrong if it feels this good."
He tilts my chin up to press his lips against mine. It's so much better than I ever imagined. He knows exactly what he's doing, and even though I've never kissed anyone, he takes the lead and I'm thankful for it. I moan into his mouth when he deepens the kiss, his hand gripping the back of my neck now. The feeling of is tongue in my mouth makes me clench my legs again, and I think he notices because his hand on my neck travels lower until it reaches the back of my thigh. He lifts my leg over his and his hand slides to my ass, squeezing lightly before his long fingers tease my entrance from behind.
His dick is pressed into me painfully and I can't wait any longer. I need to touch him. Feel him inside me.
I reach my hand inside his boxers and pull out his big, hard cock. I try looking at it under the covers between us.
"You've never seen a dick before, doll?"
I shake my head no and admire him. It's so perfect.
He closes his eyes as I stroke it. "Fuck. So innocent, baby."
He kisses my neck while I pull on him even more. "You sure you want this, baby?"
I nod. "Yes, please. I've been wanting this for so long, Negan."
He lines himself up at my opening, my leg still draped over his so that he's in between my legs.
"Once we do this, you're mine darlin'."
"I'm already yours."
That's all he needs to hear to finally push the tip past my opening. I've never had anything inside of me other than a finger, and the feeling of his thick head pushing through me and stretching my walls has my mouth falling open.
"Tell me to stop, baby."
"No, keep going. Please." I beg.
He slides deeper and deeper until he's buried inside me completely. He stays still, letting me adjust. and kisses me through the pain. A pain that feels so good. I kiss him back hard, scratching his back while grinding my waist pathetically against him repeatedly. I moan in his ear and give him the go ahead to start moving. He fucks me deep and slow at first, letting me get used to him.
"So fucking tight baby."
He growls in my ear and vibration of his deep voice sends chills through me again until my pussy flutters around him.
"Holy fuck, doll. Do that again."
I squeeze my cunt around him again and he lets out the hottest moan I've ever heard. Not that I've heard a man moan before, but I just know that his are the hottest.
"I won't last if you keep doing that, baby." He warns and the thought of him shooting his load inside me has my head spinning.
After a few more thrusts that have my eyes rolling to the back of my head, I feel myself reaching my orgasm again and hold him against me so I can grind against him and ride it out.
"Negan, Negan, oh my god.” I breathe out as I push myself so hard against him that my clit rubs against his pubic bone creating the friction I need to send me over the edge.
"Goddamn." He thrusts into me faster and harder. "Gonna make me fucking cum already, baby." He tries to pull out but you tighten your leg around him so he can't pull away.
"Cum in me, Negan. Please." I cry desperately. "I love you. I want all of you."
He kisses me hard before his hips come to a halt. He practically yells out when he shoots his load deep inside me. "Ah, fuck! Babyyy."
The sound of Negan cumming is even hotter than his moaning from earlier - I didn't think it could get any better but holy shit. We're both a tangled, sweaty mess while our hearts beat out of our chest.
We eventually fall asleep with our lips still touching and his softening dick still inside me.
I don't even worry about the possibility of what could happen in the future.. I know I'm safe with Negan.. Here in our little cabin. He gently strokes my hair as we drift back off to sleep.
BOOM. The thunder crashes outside again, but this time I don't even flinch.
"You're not scared of thunder, are you, doll?"
I smile against his chest. "...No."
The End.
Brb, going to take an ice bath.
2K notes · View notes
hannieween · 2 months
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wanderer | heartbreaker series | c.sc
You were far from the girl that Seungcheol use to love. Because, time has a funny way of changing things and it sure as hell changed you.
✧ pairing: choi seungcheol x afab!reader ✧ genre: smut (18+) ✧ aus: boss seungcheol, exes to lovers ✧ word count: 18.5k
↣ part i | other fics | taglist | ko-fi
₊🎧: blame – i.m ♡ | bad – so!yoon
₊ nsfw tags under the cut
✧ warnings: hurt/comfort harassment: gross interactions with men, kinda ? slow burn—it takes them a while to get down to business, foul language, smut with plot, daddy kink, dom seungcheol, reader is really subby, big dick seungcheol, pussy drunk seungcheol, oral sex (f, m), multiple orgasms, unprotected p in v sex, manhandling, rough doggy style, creampies, dirty talk, pet names: love, angel, baby, newb, newbie (hers) daddy (his) ✧ please if you see mistakes, cont. errors no u didn't i'm very sleep deprived
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✧ disclaimer: minors dni this post is intended for 18+ readers. please have your age stated in your description and try not to look like a bot please 🙂.
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part ii
A streak of bad luck has been following you around lately, so it seems.
The past few days you have been stuck with a decision, one apparently easy to make, but something held you back. And the dilemma had settled a feeling of deep regret in the pit of your stomach, from the moment you wake up, to the moment you laid your head in your pillows.
You were used to late nights. In fact, for the past two years you've been staying up late, dealing with the stressful pace of academic life and it slowly made you lose the need for sleep at night.
It was only 2 AM. And you were tired enough to force yourself to sleep, but the dilemma had you feeling alarmed and anxious to the point that it shook your body, impulsing you to take action, to do something, anything.
You sighed, trying to relieve the tumultuous pressure crushing you from the inside.
In a sudden movement, you swung your legs over the edge of your bed, sitting up and saw your feet hanging.
You remembered the times you wished you could just pick up the phone and call your ex boyfriend and tell him how much you missed him, and how deeply remorseful you were of breaking up with him.
It haunted you for weeks, which turned into months and now you were faced with the possibility of going back together, after two years of zero contact.
But, even if it seemed impossible, going back to Choi Seungcheol wasn't the most urgent of your decisions to make.
Bad luck, it seems.
First, you had to get a job quick in a local bar due to your bills piling up and your stipend not being sufficient to live on. Then, you had the surprise to find that your ex is the owner of said bar. Not only that, things had ended up bad with him. So the only solution was to have sex with him on his office, obviously.
And now, your roommate is giving you the very late notice that you have been mandated to vacate the apartment you've been renting for a year. Apparently you got the notice a month ago, but your roommate just forgot to tell you until it was evidently too late.
You packed your things, which luckily for you, weren't many. So you only occupied a few boxes for your clothes and stuff that fit perfectly on the trunk of your car and the backseat.
Now, you just needed a new place.
And it was in the following morning that you decided to leave your apartment. You knew that this situation could be solved through some legal counsel, but for months, you and your roommate have been at odds and you suspected that was why they 'forgot' to tell you about it all.
It was tuesday and also the day that you had to vacate your place. Returning to the bar after a day off wasn't as fulfilling in the sense that you had little to no rest. Packing things, disposing of some others.
And now, you needed to sleep.
But the memory of fucking your ex occupied your head, it needed your attention. His hands all over your body, his soft moans in your ear, the very familiar touch of his lips. The memory itself felt like a fever dream.
A dream which you dragged onto your subconscious long enough to also haunt you in your sleep, when it finally came. You dreamed of him, you saw flashes of the night you met him and experienced again all the awful things you made him go through.
The sensible thing was to let your boss know that you had run into trouble and needed to find a place soon. But being so that would mean talking to Seungcheol, you decided not to tell anyone just yet. You could manage, you could get crafty.
Sleeping in your battered Hyundai was a whole new adventure for you. And you were pretty much all for it. You made it feel cozy for you: throwing a bunch of pillows and blankets on the co-pilot seat, leaned back and you even found a way to change into your pyjamas inside the car.
But that would come after your shift.
Tuesdays, according to Wonwoo, were really slow. To the point that he was leaning on the countertop, each elbow propped to hold a book in his hands.
"Where's Mingyu?" you asked when the bar opened for business and were one bartender short.
"He's not coming today," Wonwoo, his roommate replied shortly.
"Is he okay?"
"He'll be alright," he cooed and lowered his book, pushing the rim of his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "His girl broke up with him yesterday morning."
"Huh? Why?" you gasped. "I thought–"
"Yeah, me too," Wonwoo said and scrunched up his nose in discomfort. "It caught him by surprise too, destroyed him. Boss told him he could take the day off."
You faltered for a second. "God, he must be feeling terrible," you said and thought of the happy-go-lucky guy, heartbroken.
"Mmm-mph," Wonwoo hummed and clasped his hands together on the countertop. "Well, there's not much to do for today, I think. Boss will come by later tonight so maybe we could do the little boring tasks."
And by that, Wonwoo meant doing the things you didn't have the opportunity to get done during the weekend shifts, tasks ranged from the usual to deep cleaning.
"You have a thing for cleanliness," you pointed after an hour of deep cleaning all the utensils for the bar, the blenders, the mixers. He even emptied the ice machine and gave it a thorough sweep.
"It clears my mind off things," he mentioned quietly beside you.
"Mm, I see what you mean," you nodded. It had been an hour of pure silence between you, except for the low humming of the speakers that played something of your request and you noticed that Wonwoo was silently vibing to it.
Wonwoo could be a friend, you thought.
"What does your mind need clearing of?" you pried while you cleaned all of the napkin holders thoroughly.
"A few things that have been occupying it for a few days," he replied with a soft tone to his voice.
"I assume as much," you quipped with a grin, which he didn't see, his back was to you as he seemed to be finishing the tedious task.
"That's bartender talk," Wonwoo said, turning around as he dried his hands from the little bits of ice with a cloth rag.
"Or friend talk?" you suggested with a shy smile.
One thing you were certain of these past few days of drowning in your own thoughts in silence was that you needed friends. It was a truth you've been ignoring for your own sake.
After the breakup, your closest friends seemed to fade quietly into the background, evidently siding with Seungcheol. Since most of your friends were his friends too, it was obvious whose side they had taken, but you didn't resent them for their choices.
"It's nothing, newbie," Wonwoo sighed and nodded to the task you were in the process of. "Almost done with that?"
"Yeah, why?" you said, trying not to convey that Wonwoo just refused your invitation of being friends.
"Boss is coming," he said, and he sent an inquisitive glance your way and nodded to the front door of the bar.
You jolted and turned with a gasp to face the door before you could even take control of your body.
Only to find that the door stood still, and no one was approaching it.
"What?"
Wonwoo coughed and you turned to see him, a weak attempt to hide a chuckle. "I see," he said in a nonchalant manner.
"What? What do you see?" your eyes narrowed.
He mumbled with a very tiny voice an unconvincing 'nothing', pretending to busy himself with another task.
"Tell me," you insisted, glaring at him.
Wonwoo looked over the thick paste of his glasses and grinned at your seething expression. "Fine, okay," he said and stood up right facing you. "Do you... have a crush on him?"
"A crush?" your voice raised an octave higher. "A crush?!"
Wonwoo pursed his lips and cocked his head to the side. "Yeah, like a minor infatuation–"
"I know what a crush is, Wonwoo," you stopped him with a laugh.
"Ah, yeah. Well, do you?" he pushed his eyebrows.
"Why would I have a crush on him? I met him last week," you muttered unconvincingly and looked away from his curious eyes.
"And? I'm only asking because you act weird around him, even when he's not being a pissy asshole," he put in and you raised your gaze to find him scratching his chin.
"I don't think he's a pissy asshole," you interjected, and then shook your head. "I mean, he can be sometimes, but he has given me no reason to think that."
Wonwoo chuckled. "Right. Wait 'til something really pisses him off," he muttered. "But that's not what I wanted to say! You're really calm and collected and the minute he steps in, you're weird and shifty."
You looked at him in disbelief.
Wonwoo and Mingyu have been every step of the way with you since you started working at Seungcheol's bar. And you saw a potential of starting a friendship with both of them. It felt good to finally have a talk with someone in such a way.
"You are quite the detective," you pointed with a huff. "I just feel unnerved by him, Wonwoo. What can I say, you really helped pushing the asshole narrative around him."
"Around who?"
A gasp left your mouth again, but now it sent real shivers down your spine. You turned around to find Seungcheol standing behind you, quirking up an eyebrow at you.
"No one," you stuttered.
He wore what he usually did to work, just a plain white t-shirt, black jeans and boots. A pair of sunglasses pushed his pale blond hair back, it was still humid from what you assumed was a recently taken shower.
"Why are you chatting during work?" he asked with a low tone and looked at Wonwoo.
"I–we, we were working!" you blurted and dropped your gaze to your feet. "And talking... for a bit."
"What about?"
"A-bout something," you muttered nervously.
"Boss, she's terrified," Wonwoo chuckled and you lifted your gaze to see Seungcheol grinning from ear to ear.
And then he winked at you.
Your stomach dropped and you turned to see that Wonwoo was not watching your interaction with your ex turned boss.
"It's a slow day today," Seungcheol said with a commanding aura. "But don't relax too much, we're one staff short out here and I have a meeting later today so I can't be around much. It'll be just you two."
"Got it boss," Wonwoo nodded.
You nodded too, unable to speak a word under the nervousness tying a knot in your throat.
Wonwoo left the countertop and entered the kitchen, promptly leaving you and Seungcheol alone.
"How are you?" Seungcheol asked, his gaze had softened and started reading your face.
"I'm fine, Cheol," you put in unconvincingly. "Just a bit tired."
"We're just starting the week," he pointed, his eyebrow lifting slightly.
"I don't get rest," you said and added: "PhD stuff," you shrugged.
A restless feeling made your insides twist. Seungcheol knew you better than anyone on the planet. He knew your every mannerism when you lied and the shrug was a dead giveaway.
And he was also one of the smartest men you've ever met in your life.
"You better get around managing your time with that," he advised. "Don't want you to be overworked one week into this job."
You noticed his tone wasn't condescending, he looked a bit worried, even. His big brown eyes went over your worn expression, the dark circles under your eyes, chapped lips. And probably it didn't help that you decided to forgo makeup that day.
"Okay... boss," you muttered softly.
But he was turning away from you already, effectively finishing your conversation when he pushed the 'STAFF ONLY' door and disappeared.
Deeply obfuscated, you meekly rubbed your hands in your jeans to wipe the sweat from them and returned to your seemingly pointless task, wanting nothing more but your shift to be over.
Seungcheol had been distant, keeping interactions with you at minimum. You understood he was giving you space, but you couldn't help but thing that he was probably taking your silence for a rejection to his proposal of going back together.
That night you had sex with him in his 'office', Seungcheol told you to think about his proposal, and give him an answer whenever and if you're ready.
"You don't have to give me an answer right now," he had whispered, leaning down to plant a kiss on your cheek. "But please think about it, will you?"
You saw his brows knit together and you could've swore something stabbed you in the heart. "I will. I'll think about it," you assured him.
There wasn't a day from that moment that you hadn't thought about him. He plagued your mind, every day and every hour. The feeling of Seungcheol being in your waking thought resembled the time you were freshly broken up, and there was not a day that went by that you didn't think of him.
But of course, this time it was different.
After your shift, you pretended to drive away in your car, only to get back after driving a good fifteen minutes around the block and parking on the small parking lot of the bar.
Sleeping in your old Hyundai was a whole new adventure for you. And you were pretty much all for it. You made it feel cozy for you: throwing a bunch of pillows and blankets on the co-pilot seat, leaned back and you even found a way to change into your pyjamas inside the car.
You rested your head and propped up your feet on the deck while you tried to sleep. First night sleeping in your car was not bad, even as a voice in the back of your mind told you this was supposed to be hitting rock bottom.
But in reality, it wasn't. It was temporary, you told yourself. Shit happens. And you got yourself in this mess, so you would get yourself out.
Now, another one of the worries in your head was something that you feared so much you tried not to pay attention to: Seungcheol.
Being the one that broke up with him, you certainly had a lot of guilt to carry. And you still needed to have that conversation with Seungcheol, even if he was apparently avoiding it.
Said guilt manifested itself as a painful jolt in your heart every single time you thought about him. You knew you still loved him, probably never stopped. But you also broke his heart.
If you were even thinking of going back to him, you needed to have that conversation. And you weren't sure if you were equipped to face what he had to say.
Last time you checked the clock before finally falling asleep it read 5 AM. Which would mean that you had about three hours to sleep if you wanted to get important stuff done the following day.
On the following morning, you woke up at 11 AM. You quickly changed into normal clothes inside your car. It was so cold outside that your windows were thankfully condensed. You couldn't see out and probably and hopefully no one saw you change clothes.
You drove to your university campus. One of the perks of the campus was the gym, which had showers and hot water, everything you needed to freshen up. You tended to your needs and quickly moved to the library to do some apartment scouting.
Being in a PhD meant that you had to do a lot of research, mostly. Your tasks were reading, writing and presenting weekly results. But due to the time crunch you were in, you had to make do and search for a new place to live and send out some emails pertaining to your research.
So you had about six hours to maybe find a place to move in as soon as possible. It was a difficult feat, though, to find something affordable, in a close proximity to where you used to live and leasing immediately.
Hours flew by, your stomach jolting from anxiousness and hunger when you had to leave the library and drive to the bar.
You bit the inside of your lower lip. The mere idea of seeing Seungcheol had you sighing and muffling a small yelp of pure anxiety and your forehead hit the steering wheel, and you did it again, and again.
Three taps on your window made you jump in your seat and look up to find Wonwoo standing outside of your car, looking to the interior with a concerned face.
"Are you okay, newbie?" he asked, standing back as you opened the door of your car and stepped out.
"I'm fine, just hungry," you partially lied. You were hungry, but that was not the reason why you were banging your head against the wheel.
"You know that you have a meal, right? Boss didn't tell you?" he said slowly, pointing to the bar with his thumb.
"Nope," you shook your head once.
His eyes focused on the backseat of your car, which was stuffed with boxes, then he spotted your blankets and pillows huddled in the passenger's seat.
"Are you–," his eyes snapped back to yours. "Are you living in your car?"
You closed your eyes in defeat, sighing. "Yes," you replied flatly.
"Why?" he looked alarmed, but then he quickly added: "Are you okay? Do you want a place to crash?"
"I'm fine, Wonwoo," you tried to reassure him, but the tone in your voice betrayed you. "I... like it."
He blinked in bewilderment. "You're telling me that this is your choice?"
Wonwoo was so tall that you had to angle your face up to see him, your eyes squinted because of the daylight hitting your eyes.
"Yeah, it is," you weren't lying, but telling the whole story didn't seem like something you were equipped to do at the moment.
"I'd ask if you have someone you can stay with but if you did you'd be doing that already," he put in simply and then crunched his nose instantly. "Crap, sorry. Please ignore I said that."
You laughed awkwardly. "What was that?"
"I tend to have Freudian slips when I'm really really tired," he brought a hand to the nape of his neck to rub embarrassedly.
"What–Freudian slips," you huffed. "Well don't let me be around you every time you don't get enough sleep," you laughed.
"Just smack me in the head if I say something like that again," he looked embarrassed and it was a cute sight from the ever reserved Wonwoo.
"Noted," your eyebrows quirked up. "But I'm fine, you don't have to worry."
"You're not convincing me," he stated. "You can crash in our place, I promise Mingyu won't have an issue with it," he offered kindly.
Your heart swelled a little to the idea of someone worrying about you. Even if that someone you didn't completely know yet.
"And we're also not like, creepy or whatever. We'll give you space," he added, seeing your hesitation over it.
"I'll think about it over food, alright?" you gave him a weak smile. "Thank you, though. I really appreciate it."
That made him smile sweetly at you and nodded towards the bar with his head. "Alright, let's go inside."
"Hey, can I ask you a favour?" you walked by his side through the small parking lot behind the bar.
"Sure, anything," he nodded again with his head.
"Can you... not mention this to anyone? Specially Se-seungcheol?" you stuttered a bit.
He paused and looked at you. "You got it," he replied with a hint of intrigue in his eyes.
"Thanks," you muttered before going through the back door of the bar.
The dark hallway smelled faintly of floor detergent like it did before your shift. All of the doors were closed, so you didn't know yet where Seungcheol was yet as you walked through the door that led to the interior of the bar.
"No problem," he muttered softly and opened the door that led to the bar. "The reason why I approached you was because I have something I forgot to tell you last night."
You smiled. "You're being weird," you pointed. "Tell me."
He scoffed and rolled his eyes, to then toss his backpack in the last booth at the back of the bar. "I'm tired, leave me alone," he muttered shyly. "I'm recruiting an extra pair of hands to help you during the weekends. I'm actually interviewing someone in a few minutes."
"Oh?" your eyebrows arched up. "That's nice! Do you want any pointers for your jerk persona now?"
He laughed shyly, his nose wrinkling a bit. "It's okay, Newbie. I'm not doing that this time."
"Why?" you frowned.
"Cheol is going to listen to the interview. And I don't want to see what his reaction would be," he muttered, looking around the bar for any signs of his boss. Your boss.
"Yeah, I wouldn't either," you mumbled with a smile.
"Go get your meal and I'll cover you if necessary, got it?" he nodded to the kitchen.
Wonwoo could be a friend, you thought. You had friends, yes. Some people you met in university that are in your life.
After the breakup, your closest friends seemed to fade quietly into the background, siding with Seungcheol. Since most of your friends were his friends too, it was obvious whose side they had taken, but you didn't resent them for their choice.
The menu for today was chicken hamburgers.
Mingyu sat with you in the kitchen, keeping each other company as you both ate in silence. Mingyu ate his food at a slow pace and heavy reluctance. You noticed he was hungry enough to keep eating, but had little to no energy to do so.
It broke your heart to see him like this, his puppy eyes dimmed, the heaviness of his movements, barely talking. You gently patted his shoulder once and he almost jolted awake from his thoughts.
Mingyu patted the back of your hand and nodded in understanding.
You briefly thought of Seungcheol and that made your heart lurch even harder. Who stood by him when you left?
When you came out of the kitchen, some ten minutes later you started with your tasks, which mainly consisted in arranging cutlery, napkins, etc.
You could hear over the music Wonwoo's low voice speak with another person. So you assumed that he perhaps was in his interview, and you knew Seungcheol would be close, so you stuck to the other side of the bar, pretending to be busy.
The day before, during your shift, you took the same tactic: pretending to be busy to avoid even looking in the direction of your ex.
So you were restocking bottles of ketchup in the bartop where Mingyu was also busy himself, and didn't looked as glum when he had something to do.
His eyes lifted up and toward the bar's entrance.
"Oh, hi there Han," he called with a lazy smile. "Are you here to see Cheol?"
The exchange was quick, so the moment you looked up from Mingyu to the person he was talking to, you saw your former best friend walk into the bar, but stopping dead in his tracks when he saw your face.
"Jeonghan?" you blurted, your voice quivered with emotion, picking up a higher pitched tone.
His eyes widened and he approached cautiously as if he had seen a ghost. You identified with the feeling; your heart was pounding a mile a minute as you struggled to maintain your composure.
Despite your best efforts, tears welled up in your eyes, overwhelmed by the emotion of seeing your best friend after years of no contact.
"Oh, you two guys know each other?" Mingyu's voice sounded faint in the buzz in your ears.
His brow furrowed. "Uh, yeah, she's-"
You made a motion to shook your head ever so slightly, as if saying 'stop right now, abort mission', and he, knowing you like the palm of his hand understood in a second.
"She's an old friend," he pressed his lips in an empty smile. He closed the distance between you and him.
You flinched a little when he tentatively pulled you into a hug, seemingly playing the role of "old friends," a situation you hadn't entirely processed yet. At least he understood your silent message and refrained from mentioning your past as his best friend's ex.
"You got some explaining to do," he muttered in your ear so quickly that you had to take a second to process what he'd said.
"I know," you whispered and pulled away.
Jeonghan was the first friend Seungcheol introduced you to when you started dating, almost six years ago. The two of you hit it off instantly and formed a strong bond that ended rather tragically when you left.
So it could probably come as a shock to find the person who broke his best friend's heart after two years of zero contact.
And you didn't blame him.
"Uh, yeah. We're old friends," you muttered shakily, turning away from the still pale looking Jeonghan.
"Are you working here?" he asked in a low tone, and looked around.
You followed his gaze, understanding that he was looking for Seungcheol.
"Yeah," you replied with a shaky breath. "I've only been here for two weeks."
"What?" he whispered bewilderedly. "Where is he?"
"If you're looking for Cheol, he's interviewing someone right now," Mingyu interjected, still paying close attention to the conversation between you and your former friend.
Your eyes could not stop looking at him. Unchanging, never aging Jeonghan. Once your best friend, your brother and confidant. The ache in your heart was so sharp that it made your breathing quicken, swelling in your chest.
Jeonghan nodded. "Mingoo, can you tell him that I'm here, please?"
"Of course," the taller man turned to carry out the favour.
It was evident to you that Jeonghan wanted to get a minute alone with you. If Mingyu noticed it too, he didn't look the part.
"What the fuck?" Jeonghan whispered, dragging you to a corner and far from the ears of anyone else. "I thought you were in the other side of the planet. The fuck are you doing here? In Cheol's bar?"
"I came ba-back a year ago," you muttered, the internal turmoil had your in the brink of shaking.
"And?" his hand was still on your shoulder from where he dragged you out of earshot, he was leaning slightly toward you, still looking deeply confused and alarmed.
"I'm cut off from my family–,"
"Again? Fuck," he run his hand through his short black hair irately.
"This time is definite," you repeated the same thing you did to your ex. "And I needed a job so I got here but I swear I had no idea this was Seungcheol's. I promise I didn't know and Wonwoo hired me and–"
"Stop, stop," he whispered hurriedly, looking over at the bartop.
Wonwoo was returning from the interview, looking over at you and Jeonghan with his analytic eyes, the expression on his face didn't give away anything else.
"Han," Mingyu called from behind the bartop. "Boss says to meet him in his office."
Jeonghan nodded and turned to look at you. "They don't know, right?" he muttered through tight lips.
"Seungcheol doesn't want them to know."
"Fucking hell," he said under a breath. "I'll be back in a bit, okay?"
You nodded, feeling like you could cry. Which Jeonghan noticed, and quickly snuck a hand on the back of your head to pull you in a warm embrace, your face landed on his shoulder and you stifled back a sob.
"Come on, don't cry. Everything's fine," he muttered softly. "Bar's almost about to open and you don't want to be all puffy and red for that now, do ya?"
"Shuddup, Han," you giggled.
"I'm just saying. Now, I have to get going. But I'll call you okay?"
The hand on the back of your head ruffled your hair before pulling away, and you watched him walk away and disappear through the door that led to your ex's office.
You stood there contemplating the nothingness for a second before you felt someone's eyes looking fixedly at you. Wonwoo was working, but keeping an inquisitive eye on you.
Taking a deep breath, you decided to ignore his scrutiny by continuing to get the bar ready for open hours.
When the bar finally opened, you were eager to immerse yourself carrying orders out and basically doing anything that could distance yourself mentally from your ex.
After an hour, Jeonghan came back to the bar, looking the way he did when he needed to speak his mind. But he just pulled you aside after making sure you were free enough to do so.
"I'm still confused about all this shit," he muttered briefly. "Look, I only came here to drop something off and I need to go, but I want to catch up with you," then he hugged you again.
You returned the hug, closing your eyes to savour the moment as best as you could.
"I'll see you soon," he reassured you and pulled away once again, leaving the bar at once.
In a few words, your day was a bit shitty so far. It was the first time in two years you saw Jeonghan, who in all fairness, had all the right to not even acknowledge you after leaving his best friend heartbroken.
But to your surprise, he was open to have a conversation with you.
Something you were looking forward to.
The bar was starting to really pack up by 9 PM. And you understood what Wonwoo said about having a helping hand soon, because you could barely manage. Being a wednesday night, the bar was reasonably packed and you were growing more and more tired.
So you had to deal with a number of problems: despite being quick and efficient, you were only one person to cover most of the tables. Most of your orders got delivered on time, but you couldn't always be as fast enough and a couple of customers were starting to get annoyed.
Feeling stressed, you let out a heavy breath while you looked at the machine, preparing the bill for a table.
"Do you want some help?" you heard Seungcheol ask.
You turned abruptly with a start, a hand flying to your chest. "You scared me," you explained but it was evident enough.
His eyebrow arched and his lips pressed in a line. "I have to stop doing that," he muttered with a nod.
"Yeah," you sighed, straightening your t-shirt. "I'll appreciate that—some help, I mean. Thanks," you tried giving him a smile.
But you just couldn't. You looked up at his dark eyes, adorned by his beautiful eyebrows that frowned at seeing your face.
"Something wrong?" he muttered, reading your face.
"Can we-," you started, but you got distracted by someone on the tables waving for your attention. "Sorry, I have to get this," you got the bill and grabbed the pin pad and left to continue working.
You walked over to the table that was occupied by two older men. The one that had waved you down had that look on his face that made your skin crawl and put your guard up.
"There you are, sweetcheeks," he said in a gruff voice, raw from alcohol. "What took you so goddamn long?"
In your experience, you've had many people call you things. It certainly doesn't matter in those times you notice the names mean no harm. But this time, it was different.
The hair on the back of your neck stood up, and something told you to finish the interaction and ask for backup immediately.
"Are you ready to order?" you put in flatly, trying to maintain your expression blank.
"Oof," the other one interjected. "Aren't you nice," he spat with an obvious tone of sarcasm.
You sighed heavily and clicked your pen and pretended to wait for them to order.
"Are we boring you?" one of them spat.
At that, you knew you had to finish the interaction.
"Well, let me know when you're ready to order," you retorted and turned away from the table.
But a rough, calloused hand caught your wrist before you could walk away properly.
"Don't go yet, kitten," one of the two gross men whinged, you didn't care to look who it was.
In a split second, you thought of responding verbally to back off. But every cell in your body just wanted to walk away from the situation. Dealing with gross men was not something you wanted to do in that moment, you just wanted to walk away.
With a clean move, you yanked your wrist away from their grasp, turning to give the deadliest stare you could muster to the guy that dared to touch you and walked away hurriedly.
Neither of Wonwoo or Mingyu appeared to have witnessed the crude exchange. But in your hurry, you stumbled against Seungcheol who was just walking past you.
"What's wrong?" he stopped you, looking at your face carefully.
You probably looked disturbed, and rightfully so—you felt deeply unnerved. It was not your first time dealing with gross men, it wasn't even your first interaction with someone rude in the bar, but it was the first time someone dared to touch you.
"Nothing—those guys are fucking rude," you muttered offhandedly, but you knew there was no deterring from Seungcheol's scrutiny.
"What did they say? What did they do?" he asked darkly.
"Cheol, I'm fine, just–," you looked up, his gaze had hardened completely. You faltered. "They grabbed me and called me gross names," you blurted and held your wrist, trying not to convulse in utter repulsion.
"Who?"
His eyes were devoid of all liveliness, jaw clenched, nostrils flaring. That was the real angry Seungcheol you knew.
You pointed meekly towards the table you just walked away from.
"Go to my office," he muttered before approaching the table.
The last thing you saw was Seungcheol make a sign with his hand at Wonwoo, who just nodded and left his post in a heartbeat before you walked to the door and into the hallway.
You made a stop at the bathroom to frantically wash your hands and attempt to calm yourself down. The attempt was futile, though, because you felt like you had been shaken to your core.
When you opened the door to Seungcheol's office, you half expected to find the dark room lively and packed with gamblers. But it was completely vacant, it made you feel uneasy. You desired to hear the bustle of the active gambling tables.
Instead, you sat at a chair near the entrance. Not wanting to go to Seungcheol's large desk in the corner of the room for obvious reasons.
The door was pushed open some ten minutes later, which to you felt like an eternity.
"Are you alright?" Seungcheol closed the door behind him, but he didn't approach.
You nodded with your head. "I'm fine," you muttered. "What happened?"
He made a dismissive gesture with his hand. "It's taken care of," he replied simply.
But you knew he was acting controlled—probably still containing his anger.
"I'm sorry," you mumbled, feeling ashamed. "I could've handled the situation–"
"You don't have to apologize," he cut in, lifting a hand to stop you.
He closed the distance between you and him and crouched in front of you, so now, you were looking down to find his dark gaze.
"Nobody lays a finger on you. You know that, right?" he said as he reached for your hand, giving it a squeeze.
The many times you've heard Seungcheol say that in the past. Oh god, the mental whiplash it gave you to see him like this again, to hear him say the same things he used to when you were together.
You bit your quivering lower lip and nodded. "I know," you replied.
"I can't prevent something like that from happening again. But never apologize for stuff like this. It's not your fault."
You sighed heavily because of the emotions swelling your chest. "Alright," you whispered.
His dark eyes studied your face again, noticing how shaken you still were because he stood up, not letting go of your hand to pull your body gently to his own.
"Come here," he muttered.
You stood up from the chair, being pulled to a warm embrace by Seungcheol. You buried your head in his hard chest and at that, you let yourself crumble under the swell of emotions that plagued your whole day.
"It's okay, baby. It's okay," he whispered, bringing a hand to caress your hair.
God, you could die in his arms. It surely felt like that. So many times had he lent a shoulder for you to air out your emotions, but this time felt like being born again. You stayed in his arms for quite some time until you felt like you were okay and slowly pulled away.
"Are you feeling better now?" he asked in a soft tone.
You nodded, avoiding his eyes. "'m fine. I have to go back," you muttered.
"You don't need to if you don't want to," he suggested.
"That's not fair for the guys," you pointed. "I'll go back. Thank you for... everything," you darted a look.
At seeing his serene eyes, your insides jolted uneasily. You urged to kiss him, to listen to his voice and laugh, it had been so long since you've heard his bursts of laughter you ached for it.
Seungcheol was looking at you attentively, his eyebrows nudged slightly. "You were going to tell me something before."
You sighed, nothing ever escapes him. "Can we talk?"
His gaze softened. "Of course," his lips pursed in a downturned smile.
"After work?" you suggested in a small voice.
"Whenever you want," he replied.
Your heart hurt from how eager he looked for a second.
You nodded and whispered, "Okay," before exiting his office and returning to the bar.
It was the last hours of your shift, so most tables were leaving before the closing hour. The table where the incident happened stood vacant until you closed the bar for the night.
"Guys," Seungcheol called once the place had emptied of customers and everyone was good to go home.
Wonwoo and Mingyu stopped what they were doing in the moment to look at their boss.
"We need to talk about what happened tonight," he sighed heavily and ran a hand through his pale blond hair—a dead giveaway that he was getting heated again.
"Yeah, what happened, boss?" Mingyu frowned. "One minute, Newb was managing the tables just fine and the next you were kicking out two dudes on your own."
Your cheeks flushed and your gaze dropped to the floor.
"Two idiots thought it was okay to lay hands on her," Seungcheol put in darkly, and sighed again. "I apologize for the way I acted but–"
"It's okay," Wonwoo intervened calmly. "We understand."
Your eyes narrowed and you found Wonwoo offering a quick knowing look to you.
"It was... kinda epic boss," Mingyu looked exhilarated at the memory. "I mean, no offence but the way you handled those guys?"
Mingyu made a brief reenactment by using Wonwoo's body as a prop; grabbing him by the nape of his neck and twisting his arm behind his back.
Wonwoo snorted and broke away with a small smile on his lips.
You muffled a groan in sheer embarrassment. "I'm sorry for any inconvenience I caused guys. The least I wanted to do is cause a sce–,"
"What?" Mingyu blurted. "Newb, don't apologize for that. The minute you feel someone is disrespecting you, tell us."
"And if anyone oversteps again, they will be kicked out. By any means necessary. Don't even get their bill. I don't care," Seungcheol instructed.
"Got it boss," Mingyu nodded.
"Also, a new hire is coming in tomorrow, to lift some weight off your shoulders," Wonwoo told you directly.
"Wait, so Newb will need a new nickname? I kind of got used to calling you that."
"How about you call her by her name?" Seungcheol retorted with a huff.
"What's your name again?" he asked you, and burst in a goofy giggle. "I'm kidding, 'm kidding."
You rolled your eyes, but seeing Mingyu laugh easily made you smile and laugh with him.
Seungcheol caught that, a small glint of contentment appeared in his eyes and you could see that the corners of his lips twitched before he pretended to cough and walk away and into his office.
"Freakin' weird," you heard someone whisper and raised your eyes to see Wonwoo shaking his head.
"What is?" you dared ask, seeing that Mingyu had busied himself in other stuff so it was just the two of you.
"Cheol is been acting weird all week," he shrugged and looked over his shoulder to make sure no one was listening, but you two were alone. "And I'd never seen him this upset."
Well, I have, you wanted to reply but that would be a lot to explain. Not towards you though, he never got irked at you. Arguments with him could get heated, but never in the way that would get anywhere near that intimidating.
"Is it the first time something like this happens?" you asked instead.
"Nothing like this," he shook his head calmly. "We've had a few cases of problematic people but... whatever. Have you decided yet if you want to crash at our place?"
The sudden change in conversation made you snap back to reality. You had almost forgotten that you were sleeping in your car.
"I uh..."
"Newb is staying at ours?" Mingyu came back carrying his backpack on one shoulder.
You both looked at the taller man who was fixedly looking at his phone screen, a small smile appearing on his face.
"No, guys. Thank you but I need to... sort out some things first," you replied hesitantly.
"Oh okay," Wonwoo shrugged. "Are you sure, though? Sleeping in your car doesn't sound pleasant."
"I'm fine," you maintained. "Thank you."
You were barely familiar with Wonwoo and Mingyu, they haven't given you any reason to not trust them but it just didn't feel right to accept their proposal.
Wonwoo nodded. "Let me know if you need anything," was the last thing he said before exiting the bar along with his roommate, essentially leaving you alone with Seungcheol.
He was in the backroom, as you supposed. You glanced first inside the dark room, only to find him sat in the long chair, elbows propped in his desk, his eyes immersed in his phone screen.
You landed a knock on his door, and his eyes snapped to find you by the doorway.
"You don't have to knock," Seungcheol showed you a gummy smile and nodded toward you, the movement making his blond bangs fall on his eyes.
"Sorry, didn't know if you were busy," you explained as you made your way to the desk, using all the strength you had in you to push the memory of him fucking you in this same desk just two nights ago.
His dark eyes were fixed on your face and he stood up so he could level with you.
"Everything okay?" he asked in a low tone, denoting his anxiousness.
"Yeah, just," you swallowed thickly, feeling already very restive. "I wanted to talk about what happened."
An awkward smile rose in his lips. "When?"
You sighed. "Last week," you muttered shyly. "We can't do that again, Cheol."
When you didn't follow up, you could see his features change and break. He nodded in silence and dropped his gaze to the floor.
Then it dawned on you that you weren't being entirely clear. "I mean, I work here now. And the guys are not dumb, they are catching on a few things."
"Why do you say that?" his eyes met your again.
"Wonwoo thinks I have a crush on you," you said while trying not to blush.
"Why?" he frowned. "He told you that?"
"Yeah, he was a little upfront about it. But not only that, I... kind of got emotional when I saw Han earlier today and Mingyu noticed," you muttered with some embarrassment.
"Oh," he blinked and his eyes appeared to be knowing. "I should've given you the heads up that Han was stopping by. I'm sorry."
A frustrated sigh fell from your mouth. Suddenly feeling like you could explode from so many emotions under one day. The exasperation in your eyes made Seungcheol frown.
"But that's what I'm supposed to say, Cheol: I am sorry. I'm sorry for everything, I'm sorry for how I ended things," you said, your voice thickening with emotion.
"I'm sorry, too," he whispered, and it broke you how much it still hurt.
"No—please, Cheol listen to me, I could have done things differently, but I was irrational. Trust me, the minute I boarded that plane, I wanted to go back–,"
"You had no choice," he cut off, his frown deepening. "Baby, don't think for a second that I blamed you for that. You were left with no choice. I understand that now, and I moved on."
Your eyes welled up in tears and rolled down your cheeks as soon as the words sunk in. "But I left anyway," you insisted. "I'm sorry for leaving."
His eyes glistened, a hand reaching out and grabbing yours. "I'm sorry for not trying to stop you."
It was like reopening a wound in your heart. The pain from it shook you so hard that you physically recoiled from it. Many times, you wished he had stopped you from leaving, but you had to live for years with the knowledge that he respected your choice to go.
"Cheol, don't be–,"
"But I am, I'm sorry for letting you go that easily when we could've tried and find a way to solve things together," he explained, his voice dropping to a mere murmur and you could tell that he wanted to have this conversation for the longest time.
Then his hands cupped your face, making your chest tighten under so much resentment and pent up emotions from the past two years.
"Look at me," he whispered and you met his dark eyes. "We both made a mistake. But we can fix it together."
You grabbed his wrists, brushing his skin with your thumbs. "I need more time to think, Cheol," you pleaded. "My life is a bit chaotic right now."
His eyes softened as he felt your touch. "Take all the time you need," he replied in a low murmur. "I'm here whenever you're ready."
"Thank you, Cheol," you whispered, mustering a small smile. "I promise I'll sort things out soon."
A soft smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "I'll wait for you. Don't worry," he assured you, squeezing your hand gently.
A deep sigh escaped you, revealing that you had been holding back tears throughout the entire conversation. Your throat tightened, and within moments, tears welled up in your eyes, spilling down as the last image you saw was his eyebrows furrowing in confusion.
A second later his arms were wrapped around you again. You instantly hid your face on his shoulder to cry freely, releasing all the guilt you've been bottling up for the past two years.
But hearing him apologize to you too made you discover that you've been wanting this for the same amount of time. You always felt like he let you walk away from his life too easily, even if it took you all the energy you had to do it.
Seungcheol's arms held you close, but you could feel his face snuggling on the crook of your neck, comforting you with his hands rubbing your back.
He let out a shaky sigh. "It's okay, baby. Let it all out. It's okay."
After five minutes of sobbing on his shoulder, you pulled away sniffing and trying to smooth down his ruined t-shirt.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to cry that hard. I just had the shittiest day," you muttered, gathering yourself and wiping your tears.
Seungcheol nodded in understanding. "I know, baby. I know it was hard. Don't let me rob you of more time you could use to be resting."
He motioned towards the door and got the lights of his office before stepping out into the parking lot behind the bar.
"Is working with me horrible?" he wondered, looking at the night sky. "I guess working with your ex must be stressing."
"Is it stressing for you?" you retorted as you made your way to your car.
"A bit," he admitted, showing you a smile to let you know he was joking. "It's not, really. Just the first day, I was losing my shit."
That made you chuckle. "Me too," you coincided. "But to answer your question, no. Having you as my boss is not as terrible as the boys said it'd be."
His thick brows furrowed. "They say that?" he pouted.
"Oh, you didn't know?" you asked alarmed. "Forget I said that."
His face relaxed and he grinned again. "I'm just playing with you. I'm well aware of what they say."
You shrugged and tried to come up with a response but a long yawn got in the way, making you shudder and almost shed a little tear.
"Wow," he laughed. "You need to get some rest, soon."
"Hm, sorry," you mumbled shyly, feeling a blush creep on your cheeks. "It's just that I haven't been getting much sleep and with the research and apartment hunt... 'm just so stressed about it."
"You didn't tell me you were in the middle of moving," he blinked, looking a bit more serious. "Do you need help with searching?"
You bit your tongue. Was that a Freudian slip?
"I uh... actually need a place to stay as soon as possible," you admitted.
"I'm not following," Seungcheol frowned.
The face he made next made your insides twist. He pursed his lower lip upward, pouting slightly. It was so rewarding to see him lose the initial resentment he had just a few days ago.
But deep down you knew that rebuilding your relationship with him would probably result difficult.
So you decided to start with being honest.
"My ex roommate gave me the late notice that we were evicted," you explained slowly: "I've been sleeping in my car for the last few nights."
"What, seriously?" he leaned toward the windows of your car to take a look inside in.
More than appearing to be worried, he looked kind of disappointed.
"Why didn't you–," he started, but then he seemed to remember: "Oh, wait. You were taking your space."
"Sorry about that," you shrugged. "I've been managing just fine but I do need to find a place soon."
You watched him nod with his head and press his lips together, making the dimples on his cheeks show.
"Seems like you're coming with me," he cooed softly.
You arched an eyebrow. "Don't look so unwilling, Cheol. You're making me feel bad," you quipped.
He just sighed and tutted softly, the way he did when he was putting the show of being disappointed. His hand fished the interior of all his pockets and pulled out his car keys.
"You can leave your car here," the locks of his grey wrangler clicked off. "Now let me move your stuff to the trunk."
You reluctantly unlocked the doors of your car and Seungcheol flung the backseat door open to unload the cardboard boxes and put them in the trunk of his car.
"Thank you," you smiled once Seungcheol loaded the trunk of his jeep with your stuff.
"Don't mention it," he muttered as he opened the door for you.
You climbed in his wrangler and looked around. "You got your dream car," you pointed, sinking in the creamy white leather seats that still smelled brand new.
"You remember," he said with a smile that reached his sleepy eyes before starting the engine.
Of course I do, you wanted to say. You wanted to tell him that there wasn't a single day in your two years without contact with him that you didn't remember him.
Seeing Seungcheol at the wheel, driving in the dead of the night brought a slew of memories. The amount of times he would drive to get you back home before dawn, or the times he'd pick you up to take you to dinner.
He would grab the steering wheel with one hand and with the other he would stroke your thigh with his thumb. Sometimes he would tease you a little, dragging his knuckles down your thigh, then down and so on.
"Your thoughts are loud," he muttered and sent a knowing look at you.
Your ex boyfriend was different now. Not the younger, dark haired version that used his brother's car to get you back home before your parents noticed you were gone.
It wasn't just the hair that had changed, or his body that gained more muscle mass.
"I was just... thinking," you mumbled, looking away from him and into the quiet streets.
"Yeah, I just said that," he laughed goofily.
You felt your heart swell hearing his goofy laugh, it made you choke back a sub. "Stop it," you whined, but couldn't resist to laugh with him. "I'm tired. I can't think straight."
He sighed with a smile on his face. "Do you want to grab something to eat or do you want to go straight to bed?"
"Bed," you muttered, dropping your head to the window beside you and letting yourself rest a little.
The car came to a full stop some five minutes later.
You blinked and stretched your arms, unbuckling your belt as Seungcheol opened your door for you. To get out of the car you practically had to jump and that made him smile fondly.
"Do you have all your stuff there?" he asked nodding to the boxes.
"Yup. I don't own much," you explained, searching for a medium sized box labelled 'pjs and stuff' where you put everything you needed for sleeping such as hygiene stuff, pyjamas and undergarments.
"Let me carry that," Seungcheol hurried, taking the box from your hands. "Do you need anything else for tonight?"
"Mmm dunno," you considered to look for the box that had your jeans and most used tops but you were just too tired to do so.
"Let's go up then," he nodded towards a building and you walked towards the back door, you pushed it open, letting Seungcheol through.
"Can you get my keys, please?" he asked before stopping in front of the elevator doors. "They're in my back pocket."
"Which one?" your arm circled on his right side.
"I don't know," he replied with the ghost of a smile, looking down at your face.
You let out a sigh and dug your hand on the back pocket of his black trousers, practically feeling his firm ass to find the pocket empty.
"I'll try the other pocket," you mumbled shyly, and circled your other arm to dig into the other pocket. "It's empty, too."
Your cheeks were growing hotter by the second, because the enjoyment in Seungcheol's eyes was undeniable. You rolled your eyes and palmed the front pockets of his trousers to find the keyring on his right front pocket.
"What, no groping this time?" he chuckled a little.
"Don't push it, Cheol," you sighed and called the elevator and used the fob key on the sensor.
"We're going to one-eight," he nodded to the buttons of the elevator and you followed, pressing the button to the eighteenth floor.
"That's high," you pointed. "Is that the second to last floor?"
"It is," he nodded and rested the back of his head on the wall.
"When did you move here?" you pried.
Seungcheol was standing across from you, so you could see him clearly under the dim lights on the elevator.
"Five–six months ago," he replied, looking upward while he remembered. "I moved out of the other apartment a month after you left, if that's what you're actually wondering."
It was what you actually wanted to know.
Seungcheol didn't use a condescending tone whatsoever. His tone was quiet and his eyes told not resentment but reassurance: he tried to move on. You couldn't reproach him for moving out of there and leaving everything behind.
You nodded silently, wanting to ignore how much it hurt you to know that you'd be facing all the things that he had to do to forget you.
"I can sleep on the couch. You can have the bed," he offered before the doors opened for you and slipped to the shiny floor of the hallway.
But before you could answer that you were okay with sleeping on the couch, you went after him. You actually already felt that he had done so much for you by letting you sleep at his place, you didn't want to take his bed as well.
"This way," he showed you to the door. "Use the number pad."
"Oh, this is really fancy," you muttered.
"As if you've never seen something like this before," he rolled his eyes, but a smile of pure endearment lifted to his eyes. "You know my passcode."
"I don't?" you blinked from him to the lock.
Is it...?
"Yes you do," he muttered beside you.
You entered the only number combination you knew he used to have on his phone's passcode lock.
"Why is our anniversary date still your passcode lock?" you asked when you opened the door to his apartment.
It was disconcerting to see him detach himself from all memory of you while still keeping something as significant as the day he asked you to be his girlfriend as his passcode lock, something that remained a part of his daily life.
"I use it for everything still," he admitted as he set down the box on a table and turned on the lights of the living room.
Though that was not necessary, since the wide windows of the living room stood tall and wide, from floor to ceiling, welcoming the faint glow of the city lights that filtered into the room, illuminating dimly.
"Why?" you asked again, standing by the doorway still.
"Well I didn't want to change everything, it was way too much work. And honestly, I suck at remembering stuff," he shrugged and used his hand to motion you over to him. "Come on in. I'll show you to my bedroom."
"I can crash on the couch, Cheol," you insisted, walking into the interior of the apartment after kicking your shoes and placing them beside his.
The apartment had a sophisticated feel to it, with faux marble floors complementing the countertops in the kitchen open to the living room. In the centre of the living room was a plush cream-colored rug. A long couch and armchair surrounded the coffee table.
Seungcheol always had a good taste, but the paintings on the walls and accents here and there made you think that maybe he had help with a few things.
"You are sleeping on the bed," he concluded, grabbing the box again and showed you to a door that led to the master bedroom.
The bedroom also had tall windows, partly covered by blackout drapes. Seungcheol put the box with your stuff on top of a dresser and turned on the bedside lamp.
"Make yourself comfortable. If you need anything let me know," he smiled fondly and left the room to give you your privacy.
Even though it was not a week that you and Seungcheol had sex in his office, you welcomed the very needed space and privacy he was giving you.
You took the liberty of using the shower and even using his towels after forgetting to bring in yours.
A while later you came out of Seungcheol's bedroom, dressed fully in your fuzzy pyjamas and found your ex lounging on the long couch, looking at his phone until he spotted you waking towards him.
He sat up when you stopped just before him and sent a confused look at you.
"I used your towel. Hope that's okay," you sat beside him with a tired sigh.
"You're free to use all my stuff," he muttered softly and wrapped an arm around your shoulders to pull you closer to him.
"Thank you Cheol," you whispered shyly, toying with the casing of your pyjama bottoms.
"Don't worry," he sighed as you placed your head on his shoulder. "I'm happy to help."
That drew a smile on your face. Seungcheol was someone that always made you feel safe, he used to be the person you trusted the most.
You let out a weary sigh through your nose, your eyes going over the nicely decorated apartment. There were no signs that he actually lived there—everything seemed neat, carefully placed, untouched and barely used.
Knowing him, he probably spent more time at his bar than in his home.
"Are you falling asleep?" you heard his low voice ask.
"'m trying to," you turned your head to find his tired eyes.
"You're not sleeping on the couch," he muttered with a pout. "If you fall asleep here I'll just carry you to bed."
The reaction those words caused inside you was of a fiery excitement. You smiled, feeling yourself flush a little.
"Well don't mind me then," you muttered cheekily before pretending to snuggle his shoulder as if it were a pillow and you closed your eyes.
"If that's what you want, just say so," he muttered with a tone of bemusement.
He promptly stood from the couch and snuck his arms underneath your body that was on the couch and carried you bridal style back to his bedroom.
The joy you felt at being treated this way again was not foreign to you. Even when you were his girlfriend, you felt elated at the princess treatment he gave you.
But reliving it also caused you to feel emotional, nostalgic of having him back into your life like this.
"There you go," he muttered as he carefully placed you on the side that you noticed he used on his bed, since the bedside table was the only of the two that was cluttered.
You quickly grabbed his arm as he was standing back from the bed and pulled him in, using the vulnerability of his stance to fully bring him on top of your body.
"What are you—," he chuckled as he stumbled on top, he was stronger than you so his hands stopped him from fully crushing you with his body, placing them strategically on the bed and at your sides.
You sighed in pure adoration at seeing his gummy smile again. Despite the tired look in his eye, he seemed relaxed, almost content as he pressed a knee on the bed to regain balance when he understood what you wanted.
Your hand slid on his nape to drag him into a needy kiss, which Seungcheol responded to in a split second with a groan that was muffled in your mouth, kissing you as fervently.
"I thought you needed time," he groaned, pressing his lips on yours a couple of times before trailing down to the underside of your chin.
"I need you, Cheol," you whimpered as his wet lips reached your throat, placing an open mouthed kiss to make his way to your collarbones.
Seungcheol stopped and turned his head to face you. "What do you need, baby?" he asked with a weary tone.
You knew that it was a tricky situation and that you still needed time to think if you were ready to go back to him fully.
"Can you lie down with me? And hold me?" you asked in a tiny voice.
His smile was warm. "Of course."
Seungcheol cuddled behind you, hugging your body closely to his own.
Moments passed, silence dragged on and you could sense that Seungcheol was wide awake. He snuggled his face on the back of your head, breathing you in.
It almost broke you to think of the times you needed this. When you were alone and far away in a distant country, you ached for his warmth and care. The simple reassurance of his presence was something you longed for so many nights.
You knew he missed you too. Every now and then he would tighten his arms around you, pulling you closer to his body.
"Why are you not sleeping?" he asked after what felt like an eternity, or so you wished for.
"I can't," you admitted with a sigh of defeat.
"You want me to go now?" he started to move his arms from your body.
"No, don't–," you stopped him from breaking his embrace. "Stay."
"You have to get some rest, baby," he urged.
You turned in his arms to face him and curled up against his body, your hands sneaking past his chest and to the sides of his neck, to angle your face to his and kiss him sweetly on his full lips.
He hummed into the kiss, his hands sliding down your back but stopping before your bum. You smiled, not caring that he'd feel that on his lips and decided to press the full front of your body against his.
At that, he broke away from your lips, his eyebrow twitched. "Someone's needy," he muttered before diving into your mouth again, kissing you hungrily.
You chuckled and wrapped a leg over his hips, understanding what you wanted he pushed your back to the bed, positioning himself between your legs as he continued to kiss you.
"Do you want me to help you sleep, baby, is that it?" he asked, darting a curious look to your eyes.
You only nodded eagerly with your head, feeling a blush creeping in your face.
His mouth pressed into a smile. "You haven't changed in that, love."
A fiery rush of emotions invaded you. Maybe you have changed in some aspects, but he always read you so well, better than anyone. In the four years you were lucky enough to be his girlfriend, he made a big commitment to remember every detail about you.
Seungcheol wasted no time and moved his body back and sat on his heels to hook his fingers on your pyjama bottoms and yank them off your legs swiftly.
He sighed in delight, looking down at you.
"What?" you asked, growing timid under his awe-struck gaze.
He shook his head slightly. "I just–," he pushed his blond hair with his hand. "I never even imagined that-"
Seungcheol was practically stuttering and he smiled in defeat when you laughed at his struggle.
"Come here," you extended your arms to him and he leaned his body towards you.
You cupped his face with your hands to kiss his full lips softly, enjoying the fact that he was just as jittery as you were.
His hands slid beneath the fuzzy material of your top, his thumbs rubbing your nipples in small circles as his tongue dragged your lower lip, eliciting a low whimper from you.
"I missed you so much, baby," he whispered as he broke away from you to get rid of your top.
"I missed you too," you replied to him as soon as he returned to press loving kisses on your face.
Your fingers tangled in his long blond hair, and as he pushed away from your face, you saw his glinting eyes, revelling at the sight of you.
The endearment written on his face made your chest hurt. It was clear what he meant to say but wasn't ready to speak the words yet. You tried smiling but resorted to blink slowly at him once as if saying, 'I know, me too.'
Seungcheol flashed you a smile in response, clearly getting the message.
He kissed your lips once before dipping his head to kiss your collarbones, pressing soft kisses over the dark hickeys on your tits as his thumbs played with your nipples for a second time.
You hummed into his mouth, feeling yourself swept away by the tenderness of his kisses. He slid his hands on the sides of your body, caressing your skin and leaving goosebumps in his wake.
When his fingers grabbed the band of your panties, he broke away from your lips. His hands slowly slid your panties down your legs, looking at you fondly as you lifted your feet from the bed and his fingers dragged your panties from your ankles and set them aside.
"You're so beautiful, baby," he murmured with a soft, smallest sigh, almost as if it were escaping from his mouth: "You've always been the prettiest girl I've ever seen."
You smiled, your chest swelling with pure bliss. "Thank you, daddy," you replied with a small voice.
Then he left a trail of wet kisses toward your belly button, kissing your tummy lovingly before using his hands to angle your thighs open for him.
He placed more kisses around your core, in the soft and sensitive area of your thighs, making you whimper and grab his soft hair with one hand when he ran his tongue flatly on your skin, and again, leaving a tingling sensation on your pussy lips.
A shaky whimper spilled from your lips as he darted a hungry look at your eyes before pressing his tongue flatly on your core, licking a stripe up your folds, savouring you, drinking you in with a satisfied groan.
"Cheollie," you mewled with a sigh, already weak in your legs as your jaw went slack, and your back arched up.
You heard him hum in response, his hands pressed your body down by your lower belly, his thumbs caressing your skin while his tongue gave broad strokes on your pussy lips, placing kisses in between licks, teasing you softly.
"I missed you so fucking bad, daddy, you have no idea," you whimpered, your hand grabbing at his hair and the other clinging to the bed covers.
Seungcheol's mouth was pressed so close to your core that you felt his lips move into a smile. He didn't stop at your words to give you a reply, he continued to eat you out, the tip of his tongue sinking into your core, slurping your sweet juices delightfully.
Lewd whimpers and cries flooded the room. You knew he loved the sounds he got out of you, just as Seungcheol knew what to do to get you crying out in pleasure.
He stopped licking and kissing your cunt and concentrated on your clit, pressing his full lips on your clit before pushing the tip of his tongue on it to then move it side to side, darting the swollen bud with a swift pace.
You cried out loudly, wanting more and more your fingers twisted around his long hair, following the movements that his head started to make, slightly up and down as he continued to suck on your clit.
"I'm close, daddy," you gasped. "Fuck! I'm so close, please, please, daddy," propping yourself on your elbows as your legs began to shake, making one of his hands slide down from your lower belly and force your thighs open for him.
The last thing you saw before your eyes screwed shut was Seungcheol's head buried deep between your thighs, his hands holding you down firmly to his bed as your legs trembled on his sides.
Your head dropped back, crying out loudly as your orgasm washed over your body, the sounds you made left your voice raw until you started panting.
"Oh god—oh my fucking god," you whimpered lewdly as you came all over his mouth. "I missed you so, so much, daddy. Daddy!"
Seungcheol groaned in your cunt, teasing you with his mouth as you came down from your high. But he wasn't stopping. You noticed he moved his mouth from your clit, but he resumed giving broad strokes across your folds, savouring your arousal again.
"Daddy, what are you—oh," you started, but then his hands blindly found yours, lacing your fingers with his and then pulling so that your elbows no longer supported your body.
The back of your head hit the pillows and you heard him let out a low and raw groan. You understood that he wasn't done. Because of course he wasn't.
Seungcheol worked his mouth on your cunt to hear you moaning and whimpering again until he hummed in satisfaction against your folds.
Then the tip of his tongue swirled around your clit a few times before it darted side to side swiftly and continued to do so, knowing that would draw your orgasm out of you again.
"Mmm, 'm gonna cum again, daddy," you mewled, your chest rising and falling heavily as you felt your limbs growing numb. "Daddy, 'm almost there, I'maah-"
The grip you had on his hands tightened as his mouth forced a second orgasm from you, making you moan loudly repeatedly calling out his name until you were completely breathless.
Your limbs went limp just as his hands broke free easily from yours to smooth your legs soothingly. He placed one final kiss on your mound and lied his head on your thigh.
"Tired yet, love?" he asked, pressing the side of his face against your upper thigh, using it as a pillow.
"Mmyeah," you hummed. "I could die right now," you sighed weakly.
He smiled fondly. "I think you mean sleep?"
You nodded and added: "After I make you feel good too."
He raised a hand to stop you from moving. "Shh, let me enjoy this," he muttered lazily, nuzzling the side of your face against your thigh.
"But, I want you to feel good too," you frowned.
He blinked sleepily and shook his head that was still on your thigh. "I'm good, baby."
"Really?"
"Really," he whispered with a small smile, looking elated. "I missed this. I missed you," he smiled lazily.
Seungcheol moved on top of your body to capture your lips with his, kissing you sweetly before climbing down the bed, where you lied languidly watching him get rid of his shirt in one movement and throw it to the side.
"I'll be back in five, angel," he told you before he walked into the bathroom, turning on the shower a minute later.
When he returned, you weren't aware if five minutes passed precisely. Since you were fast asleep already, only to feel his hands move you beneath the covers, and then his warm body pressed behind yours, his arms wrapped around you.
Seungcheol held you closely throughout the night, until somewhere in the distance you heard an alarm go off. And you were barely aware of the kiss he left on your cheek before pulling away from you and leaving the bed.
Some hours later you woke up in his large bed, naked and alone. You searched for your phone but then you remembered that it was probably back in the living room.
After finding your clothes which were scattered on the floor around the bed you got dressed and went to search for your phone. You wanted to know what the time was, and if you needed to tend to any texts.
But luckily, it was still fairly early in the morning and you didn't have any messages or emails.
So you busied yourself as best as you could. Starting by changing into casual clothes and after perusing what the wifi password was—which Seungcheol had in a note stuck to the fridge with a magnet, you then grabbed your laptop and browsed for a place to move in.
You were sitting on the stool in the kitchen countertop working on finding an affordable place when Seungcheol returned. You being the first thing he laid eyes upon entering his apartment.
"Hi there," you hummed with a smile.
"G'morning. Brought you breakfast," he lifted a bag with his hand and placed it beside your laptop and promptly placed a kiss on your cheek.
You noticed his hair looked messy and sweaty, and you noticed he had gone to the gym, his compression t-shirt hugged the muscles of his chest, and the grey sweatpants that hung on his waist just right.
You gulped.
"Thank you," you smiled at him as you pushed your laptop aside and inspected the box containing the food he grabbed for you.
"Any luck yet?" he nodded to the screen on your laptop, where your search has stopped cold at the sight of food.
He leaned on the countertop beside you to look closer to the screen.
"Nope," you replied shortly, stuffing your mouth with food eagerly.
He shrugged. "You'll find something," he said reassuringly and when he looked at your cheeks full he smiled fondly.
"I'll be out of your hair soon, don't worry," you muttered, trying to cover your mouth as you were still chewing up your food.
"You can stay here as long as you need, you know that," he brushed off with a small frown on his face.
You nodded. "Thank you, Cheol."
His eyes lingered on your for a second before he muttered reluctantly: "And if you don't find anything that suits your needs, you can stay here, indefinitely."
You had to take a second to understand what he was saying. And your heart skipped a beat.
"I appreciate that, Cheol. But I think I need to find a place of my own," you muttered and looked down to your food.
Seungcheol shot a brief glance your way, his expressive eyes had dimmed. Upon realizing that he had touched on a sore subject that had caused arguments between you in the past, he turned away from the counter and walked out of the open kitchen, distancing himself from you.
"I'm taking a shower. And then we leave," he announced awkwardly.
"O-okay," you nodded. "Thank you for bringing me food."
"Don't mention it," he nodded before turning his back to you and walking off to his bedroom.
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This shift was not as heavy as you initially had prepared for.
It was thursday, and instead of it being a night in which you had a live band playing, it was ladies night, a new concept that Mingyu proposed when Midnight Haze announced they'd be going on tour opening for another big rock band.
The concept to say the least was... interesting.
"Hey newb, you'll be behind the bar tonight for a bit," Wonwoo instructed and nodded to the guy that was in deep conversation with Seungcheol on one of the booths before opening hours.
"Oh, right, the newer newb is here," Mingyu said. "And who's going to help the new kid?"
"You," Wonwoo stated, crossing his arms over his chest.
Mingyu's jaw almost dislocated. "Me?" he pointed to his chest. "Why me?"
"Because you've been distracted. I want you to change tasks for tonight," he explained briefly and then looked at you. "You can handle the bar, right?"
Mingyu rolled his eyes with a snort and came out from behind the countertop and got to work, although fuming.
"Yeah, I can," you shrugged.
And also, you had a license. You don't know how Wonwoo even remembered that but you were glad he did. Because you also were in need to take a break from managing the tables.
"Right," Wonwoo clasped his hands together. "Let's get to work, Newb."
You nodded and followed Wonwoo behind the countertop.
The actual newbie's name was Chan. Who was a dark haired guy with an easygoing personality, you learned that he was an aspiring singer, within the first 60 seconds of you talking he mentioned his SoundCloud with great enthusiasm.
But the real reason he was here was because Wonwoo sort of convinced him to work here under the promise of juicy tips. Which, worked to the favor of the new concept of ladies night, something that you'd also learn soon.
The bar was nicely packed around 9PM. And Mingyu's idea seemed to stick, since the tables and barstools were occupied and most of the customers were, in fact, women.
"Holy shit," you said under a breath, watching with keen eye the looks being thrown at the boys tending the table.
And also to you and the man beside you tending the bar, and you felt slightly nervous whenever you caught someone on the countertop looking your way.
"Indeed," Wonwoo responded with a breathy laugh. "I mean, we get this crowd whenever the Haze boys come around, but not like this."
"Looks like the boys are having fun," you pointed with your nose to Mingyu and Chan, who kicked right off with the right foot and worked with a nice synergy.
"Finally," Wonwoo said with a sigh. "Need Mingyu to get out of his own head."
"Breakups are hard," you muttered as you turned to get the new orders from the machine.
Something caught your eye, Seungcheol's blond hair as he flipped it back with one hand as he strolled his tall body in front of the row of booths, inevitably turning the looks of people he passed by.
A sigh escaped your lips. Seungcheol has always had this effect on people. He is alluring, by the way he walked and stood. He commanded himself with a confidence that you have not seen in anyone else you have ever met.
You bit back a smile.
"Hello?" Wonwoo snapped. "Newbie, gimme that," he said with urgency and yanked the order from your hand.
"Sorry," you said, feeling a hot wave wash over your face.
"Seriously?" Wonwoo tutted and shook his head.
"What?" you said as he handed you another order and you got to work.
"At least try not to be obvious," he flashed you a grin and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose while the other hand was busy pouring a glass of whiskey and coke.
"God, okay," you widened your eyes in annoyance. "You are snoopy."
"And you are sloppy."
You chuckled. "Maybe. But at least I mind my business."
"Shut up," he hissed with a bright smile.
"Yah! You two," Seungcheol pointed towards you and Wonwoo. "Stop bickering."
Seungcheol had made his way to one side of the countertop, that being the side Wonwoo was mostly in charge of. You nodded with your head and it took you a second to notice that Seungcheol was amused by you.
"Like kids, I swear," he said with a click of his tongue.
"It's all her, boss," Wonwoo pointed teasingly at you. "She has her head over the clouds, god knows why."
"Wonwoo!" you shrieked like a little girl and pushed him by the shoulder.
But he obviously didn't budge. The man towered over you, but he only giggled. "See? She's even blushing, had to clean drool off the counter, you shoulda seen boss."
"Fuckin'stopit, Jeon Wonwoo," you hissed at him.
Seungcheol chuckled goofily, making you stop your feeble pleas to Wonwoo, who also looked somewhat stunned by your boss's reaction.
"Stop it you two, alright," he shook his head once before walking off to the kitchen.
"Huh," Wonwoo huffed. "That went well."
"What?" you gasped. "You just embarrassed me in front of him!"
"And it worked," he shrugged with a sly smile on his face.
"Uh... no it didn't—what worked exactly?" you demanded, your cheeks blazing hot that you had to lower your head a bit so that no one saw your embarrassed expression.
"He got shy."
You stopped and looked at him, quirking an eyebrow. "Yeah, sure."
It was weird to have the need to conceal both your excitement and nervousness. Sort of working in your favour because Wonwoo was so sure that you were jittery because you were crushing on your boss, according to him.
You didn't want to imagine what expression would take on his features if he ever knew that you weren't crushing on your boss, but your ex.
The shift ended quietly and you silently thanked the gods because you still felt embarrassed by the exchange between you and Wonwoo. And he appeared to be knowing of that, because you were trying to turn a blind eye towards Seungcheol, who for some reason kept strolling around the bar, helping with minor tasks here and there.
Wonwoo sent you some smug looks when Seungcheol went around the countertop and started helping you with the close up.
After everyone had exited the bar, you stood around your car for a bit, pretending to be busy responding to texts as Chan, Wonwoo and Mingyu had left, and the rest of your coworkers did too.
Seungcheol crossed the small parking lot behind the bar as he got his car keys from the pocket of his jacket, unlocking the doors of his jeep.
You hopped in the passenger seat of Seungcheol's jeep, feeling your heart almost thumping out of your throat when your ex sighed a smile.
"So," he threw a hand over the steering wheel. "You were caught drooling over someone."
"Not you too," you scoffed but laughed at his smug expression.
"No wonder Wonwoo is catching onto something, you might be a bit obvious," he smirked and ignited the car, driving away from the parking lot.
"I only looked at you once," you mumbled sheepishly.
"What were you looking at?" he inquired with a soft tone.
"I might have been looking at your butt," you laughed out of embarrassment.
"In front of everyone?" Seungcheol chuckled.
You hid your face behind the palms of your hands with a groan. "I couldn't help it."
A hand slid on your thigh, his fingers softly digging into the fabric of your jeans.
"Baby, you can't do that while working, the boys might actually start questions and what are you going to say?" he teased and you looked at him through your fingers, he was smirking while darting a few looks at you.
"I mean I wasn't the only one looking," you muttered shyly, your voice sounding tiny. "You look really good in those pants."
He laughed in response. "Is that what you told Wonwoo, baby?"
"No," you replied quickly. "I told him to stop snooping."
"I could tell him the truth, if that makes you feel better," he suggested with a small smile as the car came to a red light.
"What?" you squealed, dropping your hands to see his face illuminated by the soft red glow.
He shrugged. "I trust the boys. They would have no issue with you being my ex girlfriend."
Somehow the last word made your chest tighten.
"Bu-but I thought you didn't want them to know," you blurted.
"That would be the sensible thing to do, if I didn't trust them. But they've been here with me since I started this, I really trust they will understand," he muttered while he rubbed two fingertips over his plump lips.
"Um, okay," you mumbled, completely unsure.
"Only if you want to," he quickly put in when he saw your hesitation.
"I don't know," you sighed and bit back a yawn.
Seungcheol continued driving with his large hand firmly parked in your thigh, making your body tingle in anticipation.
"Jeonghan asked me for your number, forgot to tell you," he mentioned in passing, as if wanting to drive the conversation elsewhere.
"Oh? Did you give it to him?"
"Yeah, I did," he nodded with a frown. "Thought you'd want him to have it. Was that okay?"
"Totally!" you smiled, eager to finally reconnect with your former best friend. "Thank you, Cheol."
A smile reached his eyes and he sighed.
"What?" you asked.
Seungcheol parked and turned the engine of his car off. "Nothing," he said, unbuckling the belt. "It's nice to see you happy, that's all."
"It's been so long. I never thought I'd see him again," you said with a sigh. "I honestly thought he'd hate me..."
You dropped your gaze to your hands.
"Hey," he muttered, turning on his seat to face you. "Don't think that, baby. He has no reason to hate you, even if he did, he wouldn't."
You mustered a smile and looked at his big dark eyes, then his lips.
"Let's go," he muttered, noticing your wandering gaze.
"'kay," you sighed and followed him out of the car and onto the building.
In the elevator, Seungcheol had his hands behind his back, leaning back against the wall as he eyed the ceiling.
You watched him carefully, every detail of him. He way he stood, the way his t-shirt clung on his lean pecs and the wide shoulders that stretched the fabric down to his biceps.
One eyebrow twitched ever so slightly.
"You're staring again," he muttered without looking at you.
"No, I'm not," you mumbled sheepishly, dropping your gaze.
"Your thoughts are loud, baby," he giggled and you lifted your gaze to find him smirking.
"Tell me what I'm thinking, then," you quipped, returning the smirk.
Your heart fluttered rapidly, sinking with the familiarity of playing around like this with your ex.
Seungcheol pushed himself off the wall with a step forward and stood before you, making your knees wobble.
"I could show you," he said with a confident smirk, the eyebrow twitched slightly again.
The doors of the elevator opened, the small bump when the elevator arrived to the second to last floor left you feeling somewhat dazed. Or perhaps was the man standing in front of you, with a smirk plastered on his face when he knew the effect he had on you.
He walked into the long marbled floor hall and you followed him, noticing a slight urgency on his movements when he opened the door for you.
As soon as he closed the door, his hands slid on your waist from behind, stopping you in your tracks and pulled you closer to his body. You gasped slightly, your hands immediately flying to cover his with a jerk.
"Are you going to tell me what's on your mind, love?" he asked with a low tone, his nose bumping with your ear.
You turned to see him, his eyes had darkened, and was now wearing an expression that you knew too well.
When he saw you falter, he slowly turned you on your feet, his hands firmly parked on your waist. "I know that we still have a pending conversation but," he paused, searching your face. "I really need you right now, baby."
A shiver of pure delight ran throughout your body, earning a soft sigh from you.
"Then take me, Cheollie," you breathed, pressing your body against his.
He drove you against the wall, effectively pinning you with his large frame and not a second later he locked your lips with his own, groaning in your mouth with a sigh.
The hands on your waist slowly slid down your ass, grabbing it momentarily before crouching slightly before you and you understood what he wanted and jumped in his arms.
"Good girl," he muttered gruffly, moving his hands firmly on your ass as he carried you in his capable arms to his bedroom.
Seungcheol threw your body on the large comfy covers of the bed, muffling your fall perfectly. You let out a small blissful squeal and focused your eyes on him, feeling so needy already that you might've combust.
Seungcheol stood before you, his darkened eyes roaming all over your fully clothed body impatiently.
"Do you still like it rough, baby?" he asked as he pressed one knee on the bed and crawled on top of you.
"You know I do, daddy," you replied with a honeyed tone.
Seungcheol lowered his elbows, framing your head and pressed his body on top of yours. "Did the guys you fucked treated you the same way I do?"
Your breath hitched and something clicked in your brain instantly. Your eyes read his face frantically, he seemed calm, controlled, just like he always did when he dommed you.
"O-of course not," you whispered, quivering under his darkened gaze. "No one fucks me like you do, daddy."
Did he really want to know? He might've assumed that you've had other partners when you went away, right? Did he have other partners? Oh fuck, you didn't even want to entertain that thought, your heart sank at the mere prospect.
Seungcheol probably did, though. Assuming that he already thinks the same of you.
He smiled playfully, like a cat toying with his food he dipped his head to graze his lips against yours slowly. "Did you think of us when you fucked other people, baby?"
His lips moved to kiss your cheek and you quivered when his hands slid under your shirt, feeling your waist.
Did he think of you? You thought to ask.
"No," you replied sincerely. "But I would when they'd leave and I had to finish alone."
"Mmm," he hummed thoughtfully. "That bad I ruined you, baby?"
"That bad," you nodded. "I tried to convince myself it was good. But it just wasn't the same."
His lips pressed on the shell of your ear before saying: "Of course it wasn't, angel. No one knows you like I do."
You let out a shaky moan when he nipped your earlobe. "No one," you echoed. "Not even close."
You felt him smile on the spot below your ear. "And no one else will, baby."
You let out a pathetic whimper, not even daring to process what his words really implied. "No one," you parroted entrancedly.
Seungcheol groaned softly in your ear and pressed more kisses down the crook of your neck, earning more sweet sounds from your lips, you squirming under him, one hand had made its way on the hard muscles of his back, while the other cupped the back of his head.
"I need you naked, now," he muttered quietly and pulled his body back, kneeling on the bed before you.
Somehow your body silently started synergizing with his, you sat up in the bed just as his hands took the hem of your t-shirt, pulling it over your head with one move and tossing it to the floor. And then you lied back again when his fingers hooked on your jeans after yanking the button and zipper undone.
Lifting your hips for him to yank your jeans down your legs so hard that you heard some seams rip.
He let out a huff with a smirk. "These fucking jeans," he muttered through his teeth. "Can't fucking get you out of my head on a regular basis and then you wear these jeans... fuck baby, it's like you know."
He climbed back on top of you, placing his forearms on each side of your head to kiss you chastely once.
"It's like you know what you do to me," he muttered gruffly. "But you do, you know me better than anyone too."
Your heart lurched at his words, but couldn't help but show him a small smile. "Yeah, I do," you said confidently.
Seungcheol returned the smile. "Yeah, baby?" he whispered on your lips, trapping your lower lip to pull at it softly. "Can you still take me like before?"
Your whole body burned at his question and you nodded with your head slowly. "Ye-yeah I can," you faltered for a second. "I can take it."
"That's my baby," he whispered and swiped a line on your lower lip with the tip of his tongue. "Arch your back for me. I need to see you," he slid a hand beneath you to unclasp your bra and uncovered your breasts for him.
Seungcheol instantly palmed your breasts teasingly rubbing his thumbs over your nipples, making you squirm when he leaned down to wrap his mouth around one of them, sucking lightly and nipping at it with his teeth.
"Fucking perfect," he grunted. "You're the prettiest girl I've ever seen, I swear."
"Daddy," you mewled and grabbed a handful of his soft hair when he decided to pay attention to your other nipple, sucking at it, playing with it and tugging it with his mouth.
"I'm here, love," he replied, darting a look at you. "Daddy's gonna treat you right, fuck you like you deserve."
You nodded eagerly. "P-please, I need it."
Seungcheol sighed with a smile at your plea, his fingers hooked on the band of your panties, pulling them off to watch the string of arousal that stretched as the fabric separated from your wet core, broke and fell on the covers.
"So fucking wet already," he clicked his tongue.
"All for you, daddy," you sighed, feeling a blush creeping on your cheeks.
"All for me," he echoed, hovering over your body to press a hungry kiss on your lips.
Your hands slid under the white t-shirt to drag it up his body, feeling his muscles tighten and he sighed shakily under your touch, standing upright for you to continue undressing him.
You marvelled at his half-naked body for a second, your hands caressed his shoulders and slid down his chiselled chest and stopped at the belt of his pants.
"You've gotten bulkier," you whispered, darting a look at his eyes.
"Do you like it, love?" he asked, tilting his head to the side a little.
"Yeah, I do. A lot," you muttered, mustering a smile.
He pinched your chin gently but said nothing more.
"I need you to get up," you mumbled nervously before undoing the button of his pants.
This felt different than the night he fucked in his office. You felt nervous under the pressure of your decision, that and the fact that Seungcheol wanted to have his way with you like before, but that caused another kind of nervousness.
Seungcheol got up from the bed and you followed him, getting him out of his jeans to then bit back a sigh when you saw the huge bulge he store beneath his briefs. You ran a palm over his clothed cock, noticing a small patch of his briefs wet with precum.
A shudder in excitement invaded you when you pushed his briefs down. His cock sprung free and you let out a strangled sigh in pure bliss.
You pushed him with your hands at his sides, earning a soft chuckle from him when he understood what you intended to do. Sitting him down on the edge of his bed and kneeling on the floor between his splayed thighs.
You caressed his supple thighs with a shudder that shook you to your core, almost whimpering pathetically at the sight of him. Naked, hard, leaking and needy.
Seungcheol cupped the side of your face with one hand and your eyes fluttered shut under his warm touch. "Is this what you had in mind, angel?"
"Yeah," you breathed lewdly with a nod to your head. "Can I suck you off, daddy?"
"Fuck, yes," he sighed with a grin, pushing his tongue on his front teeth as his hand brushed your hair back gently.
You gave him a lazy grin before grabbing his hard cock with your hand to give a broad stroke on his shaft with your tongue, locking eyes with him as you licked his pinkish cockhead, tasting the salty precum in his slit and his mouth parted a little, releasing a low guttural moan.
"You don't know how much I miss your mouth, baby," he groaned.
You pushed your mouth down his cock and hummed around it, swirling your tongue around his leaking tip every time you pulled your mouth back.
Seungcheol hissed and his hands started gathering your hair in one tight fist as your mouth started to feel more comfortable on his cock and felt bold enough to take him further, so that his cockhead pushed up your throat.
Your hand stroke the length you couldn't take in your mouth, while the other caressed his thigh, making him shudder and suppress a low moan in his throat.
"God, baby, your mouth feels so good," you sneaked a look towards the man completely trapped under your spell.
You hummed again, sucking on is cock loudly to make him shudder. He had his lust-lidded eyes trained on you, one hand gathering your hair and the other gripping the covers tightly.
"Fuck, that's it, baby. That's it, you're taking me so well," he mumbled quietly, parting his mouth in pleasure.
At that, you picked up pace bit by bit, your drool coated hand moving faster on the base of his throbbing cock while you worked your mouth around it, earning more sweet sounds of pleasure from your ex boyfriend.
The overwhelming need to worship his body invaded you. It made your cunt throb and moan around his cock, making slurping sounds as you sucked his big cock and took him further in your mouth.
You gagged a little bit when you tried to push his cock in your throat, and his hand tightened around your hair. "Stop," he instructed.
You pushed your head back and got him out of your mouth with a deep breath.
Seungcheol leaned down to kiss your lips chastely, his hand still on your hair. "I want you on the bed, on all fours," he instructed gruffly.
You complied eagerly and almost immediately, getting on your feet to kneel in the middle of his large bed. You propped your elbows on the pillows and looked over your shoulder to see you him.
The soft glow of the city lights beyond the wide windows illuminated your ex's beautiful naked body as he climbed back on the bed, and parked his hands on your lovehandles.
"Do you remember our safeword, love?" he asked, pausing for a second.
You nodded and told him the safeword you established for each other years ago.
Over your shoulder, you saw him bit back a smirk, one hand that was on your hip moved down your the small of your back, pressing on it softly to angle your ass for him.
Biting your lip in anticipation, a moan was muffled when he slid into you in one go, stuffing his cock deep inside your walls and you heard him groan with a sigh in pure pleasure.
He immediately started pushing his hips against your ass, within the first few seconds you were already mewling for him, gripping the covers with your hands as if you were holding on with all your might, taking his big cock like a big girl.
"Good girl," he sighed when you arched your back and lowered your face down to the pillows. "Stretching so nicely for daddy's cock."
You hummed and closed your eyes, savouring every raw inch of his cock dragging out of your gummy walls and then sinking back in, gasping with every hard thrust of his hips against your ass.
"Daddy," you moaned with a sigh. "Please."
You weren't sure what you begged for, but when Seungcheol picked up the pace a little, slamming his hips against you so hard that your body started to bounce on his bed, you soon forgot what you wanted to say.
"Fuck, daddy, yes just like that please," you gasped lewdly, when his cock reached a glorious spot inside you, making your mind going numb and your hands held tighter to the covers.
You heard him groan gutturally and looked at him over your shoulder, Seungcheol had thrown his head back a little, his tongue was trapped between his teeth. The hand parked on the small of your back had travelled far up your back a little, while the other held you in place.
"You're taking my cock so well, baby," he grunted between breaths.
You nodded with a sigh and a moan bubbled in your mouth as he continued to hit that spot within your throbbing walls repeatedly, hard and fast.
Seungcheol was practically growling, his raw moans spilling from his lips in a frantic manner as his hips slammed into your ass, making you gasp and moan with every thrust.
"F-fuck, 'm there, daddy," you sighed and gulped hard, tasting your sweet release.
His hands gripped you so hard on your hips as he quite literally pummelled you that you knew you'd have bruises on your hips and ass the following day. But he didn't stop, and you internally thanked him.
"You want to cum, baby?" he asked, his voice low and raspy.
"Yes please, daddy. 'm so close," you whimpered your eyes brimmed with tears. "Feels so good, so fucking good—"
Hearing you being so needy for your release made him let out a deep groan in pleasure. But he continued with his rhythmic thrusts on you, his hands firmly grabbing your hips, his fingers digging in your skin so deep you knew you'd have marks in the morning.
"Cum for me baby," he gasped. "Cream all over daddy's cock," he said in a low guttural tone.
All you could feel was his cock plunging in your clenching walls as your orgasm hit you so hard and good that your ears rung, drowning out your own screams and cries of pleasure.
Then a hand circled your neck, and effortlessly pulled you up so what his hard chest was pressed to your back. Seungcheol's fingers didn't press that hard, but with enough strength to make you gulp abruptly and grab his wrist.
"I love the sounds you make for me," he growled. "So fucking good for me."
You whimpered at the sound of his voice so close to your ear, his cock still pumping hard inside you so hard that you could feel your whole body bouncing against his.
"I'm gonna stuff this pretty cunt with my cum. You want that, love?" he asked, gasping softly at your ear.
"Yes, please!" you replied with a whimper, your hand clenching the wrist up your neck. "Fill me up, please. Please, daddy."
A groan left his mouth, sounding so low and guttural that it vibrated on his chest so hard you sensed it on your body. His hips slammed against you, his hand tightening in your neck as he came inside you in soft gasps, your name spilling out of his lips.
Slowly his hand released your neck, his strong muscly arms encircled and pressed your body against him. He held you close to his chest, as he breathed heavily on your neck in a mixture of exhaustion and bliss.
"You're always so good to me love," he muttered lazily as he showered you with loving kisses on your neck and shoulder.
You snuggled closer to his warmth, angling your head for more of his kisses and you felt him smile on your cheek.
"Cuddle me?" you asked when his lips reached your own.
He paused, reading your eyes before nodding with his head. "Whatever you want, baby."
You slowly lied face down on his bed and Seungcheol followed, slumping his naked body beside you.
Then his big arms were wrapped around you, efficiently pulling you on top of his body. You pressed your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat and the soft hum he released.
Two fingers gingerly took your chin, commanding you to look at him.
"Okay?" he breathed.
You nodded and pressed your lips into a smile. "Okay."
The corner of his mouth stretched slightly in the faintest of smiled. "C'mere," he whispered, reading your eyes before leaning in for a warm, tender kiss.
"Cheol," you breathed in his lips.
"You don't know how much I missed you, baby," he quickly cut in, as if he didn't want you to turn away from the moment. "So much."
"I missed you too," you echoed with shaky voice. "So, so much."
"Only in my most insane moments I dared to imagine you here with me again," you felt him smile on your lips. "But here you are."
Your heart broke a little and you let out a small whimper. "'m here, Cheol."
He nipped at your lower lip again and then pressed a soft kiss on it. "Don't leave again."
You choked back a sob audibly, unable to utter a word.
"Please," he whispered.
"I'm not entirely sure if this is a good idea," you told him sincerely. "I'm a different person now, Cheol. Not the girl you once loved."
It was true. You were far from the girl that Seungcheol loved. Time has a funny way of changing things and it sure as hell did with you.
But he smiled with an endearing look in his eye, tugging at your heartstrings. "I know you've changed, baby," he muttered. "I've changed too. We can get to know each other again."
The idea sounded good. After all Seungcheol was you first love. Your first everything: first (real) kiss, first boyfriend, first sexual partner, first heartbreak. So the prospect of getting to know him all over again after two years was exciting.
Something to look forward to.
"I don't think we can go back to what he had," Seungcheol said softly. "And honestly, I don't want to. I want to start over."
"Can we? We can't just turn a blind eye to what we've done for the past few days," you pointed to your naked bodies, alluding to having sex three separate times already.
"Remember when we started dating?" he asked while his fingers brushed your hair from your face. "We moved so fast, we were already having sex within the first month of knowing each other."
You laughed, your cheeks bundled up and forced some tears from your eyes. "I know, I remember. But that's not what I'm saying, Cheol," you playfully pushed his shoulder. "How would this work? You being my boss, and my ex–"
"You're overthinking it," he shook his head once. "We'll take it step by step. I know it's tricky, and it's going to take a lot to figure it out. But I know that I'm ready now."
He was right: you were overthinking everything.
Nothing could ever get you back to what you used to have with Seungcheol. There was no going back to the person you were when you were madly in love with him. Even if you still loved him now, there was a lot you had to rebuild.
His thumb gently brushed away a lonely tear that rolled down your cheek. "What do you say, love?" he whispered so softly that it was barely audible. "Can we start again?"
Seungcheol paused, looking hesitant, but in the brief silence that followed, you understood that no matter what your answer was, one thing was still very evident: you still loved him.
As you nodded with your head, he pulled you into a tender kiss. It was too soft, slow and warm and wet. You melted into the kiss, your whole body shuddered under his touch, making you stifled a sob in his lips.
"Thank you, baby," he whispered in between kisses. "I won't let you down again, I promise—I promise."
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✧ a/n: heyyyyoooo (´◡`)
if this has mistakes or continuity errors, please forgive me, i only picked up this draft after i abandoned it since october
thank you for waiting for this part! i really appreciate everyone who engaged with part i and waited for this one. it took me really long to post this because i wasn't feeling it, idk 🥺 pls forgive me
i'll try to update soon!!
if you liked reading this, please let me know? i'd appreciate a comment, reblog, like or an ask! my ask box is always open and i love to know your thoughts on anything pls i'm lonely 🥺
so if any of you guys have read my other fics, you may or may not have noticed that all my fics are connected in one single universe hehe. i might make a masterpost soon. so stay tuned for that and,
✧ PART 3 !!✧
anywhoos, i love you all ⸜(。˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡
toodles
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© RIGHTS RESERVED TO HANNIEWEEN I DO NOT ALLOW TRANSLATIONS, CONTINUATIONS, REIMAGINATIONS OF MY WORKS OR THEIR REPOSTING ON OTHER WEBSITES.
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theteasetwrites · 1 year
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Daddy's Home | Part 1
❧ Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Female Reader ❧ Era: Season 5 (Alexandria) ❧ Pronouns: she/her ❧ Warnings: SMUT (18+)—oral sex (male receiving), dominant-ish Daryl, doggystyle, so much dirty talk, like one tiny spank (just a little one), mutual masturbation, vaginal fingering, oh yeah and DADDY KINK, language ❧ Word Count: 4.3k
❧ Summary: When Daryl comes back home from a week away, he doesn't want to sleep. He just wants you.
❧ A/N: Ok so yes I know the title is ridiculous, but like... what else was I gonna call this oneshot ok? Anyway, here's some major daddy kink. Like a lot of daddy kink. Daryl is just daddy. Sorry but he is. I can't explain it. Actually, yes I can. He's a protector, a provider, a big softie. He's a daddy, and I don't even have daddy issues but just let me have this. Goodbye I am never showing my face here again. <;3 Also I simply cannot get over how hot he is in this gif holy mother of god.
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The quiet was nice, late nights in Alexandria, gentle summer breeze prickling at your skin. It was nice to leave your bedroom window open through the night. Daryl hated it, always going on about how someone could climb the trellis outside your window and sneak in while you slept, but when he was gone, you’d indulge yourself in that one simple luxury.
When he told you that he was Alexandria’s newest recruiter, you knew you’d be in for some lonely nights ahead. Still, you also knew Daryl was the best man for the job—you’d seen him bring dozens of people to the prison, providing them shelter while expecting nothing in return, and then going out the next morning to do it all over again. That was when he wasn’t going out on his hunts to find food for everyone, often bringing home the biggest deer you’d ever seen, until he’d do it again next week, and bring home an even bigger one.
Yes, there was no doubt about it—Daryl knew what he was doing out there, but it didn’t stop you from worrying about him. Missing him. So while the quiet was, indeed, nice, you still could not get used to being alone, in this perfect little suburban townhouse, waiting. 
Your waiting became so monotonous, sitting up in your bed and reading another old Agatha Christie novel, that you decided, at length, to migrate downstairs, the living room. When Daryl would come home, you thought, you’d greet him right away. That was how much you were anticipating his arrival. 
One week was nothing, really, but it was the longest you’d been apart since knowing each other, and with the world the way it was, a lot could happen in seven days. A lot of bad, bad things. 
So you flicked on the lamp, snuggled yourself into a knitted blanket, and curled up on the sofa, book in hand as you let out a quiet huff. “Daryl…” you said to yourself, scanning your book to relocate the exact sentence where you left off. “Where are you, you big meatball.”
Your nervous jitters only worsened with the passing hour, your legs shaking involuntarily, your finger tapping on the edge of the book, your toes wiggling nonstop. All you needed was the sound of that bike, that big, stupid bike. That would ease your fretful heart. Well, what would really make you happy was seeing that man of yours, no doubt in need of a shower, but still, your man nonetheless. 
Speak of the Devil, as they say, and he doth appear.
It started out as just a distant hum, perking your ears and making your spine straighten in anticipation. Still frozen, you listened intently. A rumble, now, mechanical and getting louder with each second your heart began to beat faster. At one fateful moment, the roar of the makeshift machine was at its highest volume, and before you could even stand, a bright beam of white light shone through the blinds of the front window. 
All at once, the light and the rumble ceased, punctuated by a low huff, followed by an exasperated grunt. Heavy footsteps plodded along in a familiar pattern—you even recognized the sound of his no doubt mud-caked boots scraping against the edge of the steps leading to the front porch. You could only hope that this time, he’d take the extra precaution of removing his boots before he stepped over the threshold. 
There was a spring in your step, you wrapping the terry cloth fabric of your robe over your chest as you flitted towards the front door. Finally, you stood just a few feet back, your eyes transfixed on the shiny bronze doorknob. Inevitably, a wide grin made your cheeks swell until they almost ached, but the wait was worth it. 
When he came through the door, his head was hanging low, until he felt your presence. Lifting his gaze, he met your great big smile with a smaller one, though the movement of his body betrayed him. The door shut with a strong thud, just before he stepped forward to let his crossbow fall from his shoulder. With a soft grunt under his breath, he buried his nose in the warmth of your shoulder, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips. 
For a good while, he stayed like that, only taking in the sensory relief you provided him—your faint scent of rose, your softness, your tender chuckle as your hands rubbed in vertical motions up and down his aching back. Despite the rigidity of his tired muscles, he melted into you, letting himself bask in the comfort you provided him. To hold him like this was nothing short of a ritual between you two, whenever you were apart for long enough to begin missing each other to the point of near grief. 
A man like Daryl—who’d been through so much as he had, who’d seen so much and had still so much room in his heart to give of himself to others—deserved to be held the way you held him. Few people in this world had a heart as big as him, though he did not show it in ways most people would recognize. He showed it in acts of service, in providing for people who could not provide for themselves, in the ones he loved safe. It was what you always adored about him: how he gave of himself, and expected nothing in return. 
“Hey, there, tough guy.” Daryl buried his face deeper into you, now snug in the crook of your neck, where he caught the scent of your perfume, applied much earlier in the day, yet still lingering sweetly. Though you adored how much he clung to you, you longed so much to see his face. Your hands grabbed a hold of either side of his head to lift his gaze to yours. 
As usual, his disheveled hair hung low over his forehead, obscuring one of your favorite features of his—his eyes. Between strips of tattered brown curtains, you could make out the blue-grey hue of his irises. Pushing them back, you smiled again at those deep-set pools of silvery cobalt blue. You always found their mystery to be intriguing. 
“How are you?” you asked, though you knew from the state of him that he must’ve been exhausted. He hadn’t even muttered a word, and yet the more prominent than usual bags under his eyes spoke for him. “You must be tired, hon. Let’s get you in bed.”
But as you turned towards the staircase, a firm grip pulled you back by the wrist, until you were in his arms now, laughing at his sudden burst of energy. Despite your amusement, he did not smile, only looked at you with a heavy, dark gaze, and a lick of his lips.
In your surprise, you hadn’t even noticed that both of his hands were now wrapped around each wrist, so tight that you nearly feared he’d cut off your circulation. 
Something was wrong, had to have been. You’d never seen him so… intense. Of course, Daryl could often be intense, when he was angry especially, but this wasn’t that. Anger was something you could recognize in Daryl. He’d never directed it towards you, but you knew it, and this was something different. 
“Are… are you feeling okay, sweetie?”
Silence, just that gaze holding you hostage, and a heat rising from his body that you could’ve sworn caused a bead of sweat to form on your brow. 
Now he was scaring you. 
“Daryl?” 
Your voice tempted him further. If only you knew just how much he missed you, how much he needed you. A week was too long. A week without you, a week without your touch, a week without your sweet, dulcet voice. And oh, how that voice awoke in him a terrible burning, a conflagration of deadly proportions, a fire that could only be extinguished by the one he loved. 
Entranced by his stare, you hadn’t noticed that he had you pinned against the wall, his strong, heaving chest keeping you there. 
And when he pressed himself against you, you knew. It was obvious, the way he nearly thrusted into you. 
When you realized what he wanted, you felt a wave of relief wash over you: he needed you just as much as you had needed him the past week. From the night he left, you’d not stopped thinking of him, and when you’d turn in your bed to feel for him, and he wasn’t there, the ache for him only worsened. 
There was no way in Hell, though, you were going to initiate sex when he got home. You knew he’d be tired, and a good night’s rest was what he needed before you even thought of asking him to make love to you, but now, with that wild look in his eyes, that hungry snarl in his lip, that flare in his nostrils, that beating of his heart… 
“Oh,” you sighed, your teeth biting back your lower lip as your eyes trailed up and down his body. With your hands finally free, you ran them up his arms, letting them settle on the broad, firm shoulders you loved so much. 
For just a moment, he leaned forward, forehead and tip of his nose meeting yours. With his hardening cock beginning to dig between your thighs, and his vaguely tobacco tinged musk tickling your senses, you could only utter one word. 
A soft, nearly whimpering mewl: “Daddy.”
By the time he got you to the sofa, each of you were already panting, hands moving relentlessly as you both clawed for any part of each other’s body you could get your hands on. Your mouths worked tirelessly, tongues spinning sloppily around the other’s in your haste to finally have each other again. 
When you successfully removed his leather angel-winged vest, you worked on unbuttoning his black shirt, but his hands stopped you. 
“Need your mouth,” he said. 
Leaning back on the sofa with a low grunt, he began unbuckling his belt, while you slotted yourself between his legs, hands massaging his clothed thighs, thick and flexing against your palm. 
When his cock sprang out of its confines, you’d already stripped yourself of your underwear and your robe. In only a transparent silk nightgown, your hips swayed instinctively as you watched his hand begin to stroke himself, up and down the long, thick shaft you’d come to know and love so much. 
“Come ‘ere.” His hands reached out to grab either side of your head, bringing you down to his cock. Panting lips began to drool a bead of saliva down the side of his growing erection. Knowing what he wanted, of course, you took the reddened, swelling tip into your mouth, much to his immediate relief.
“Fuck.” As your mouth slid a little lower, your hand wrapped around the base of his cock. His grip on your hair tightened as his head fell back on the arm of the sofa, a soft breath of your name on his lips. 
Returning to watch you, he lifted your hair into a makeshift ponytail, tilting his head to get a better look at you, your eyes fluttering up to meet his gaze.
“Pretty angel.” Even just the utterance of that affectionate pet name made you feel an overwhelming need to touch yourself. With your free hand, you lifted your nightgown to slot your fingers between warm, velvety folds of aching flesh. “Ya look so good like this… Suckin’ on Daddy’s cock.”
It was somewhat of a tradition now, using that phrase, though only in the context of sex, in your most private, intimate moments. It was silly, you knew it, and he knew it, too, but you both found it excruciatingly sexy all the same. It was sacred in that you’d probably die of embarrassment if anyone else besides Daryl knew of your little… kink.
But neither of you could quite help it, you adoring his strong, protective nature, and him just finding it so alluringly sinful. Guilty pleasure type of thing, with emphasis on pleasure.
And besides, his dirty talk was sex all on its own. 
As your mouth took him in progressively deeper, your fingers moved faster, increasing the friction against your sensitive spot, then slowly dipping down into the embrace of your entrance. 
Not only could he admire your mouth, and your sweet soft moans, but he could watch your fingers enter you, your hand shaking as you penetrated yourself to match the rhythm you knew he liked when he had his cock in you.
“Love when you fuck yourself like that.” He only wished he was the one doing it. “You thinkin’ of me?”
Well, it was hard not to think of him, with his cock in your mouth. 
Taking the opportunity to catch your breath, you answered him. “Yes, Daddy.”
His hands pulled you back down onto his cock, your lips forced open by his tip. “Just don’t make yourself come,” he said. “That’s for me.”
Yes, Daddy. 
Sliding over your tongue, his cock dug deeper, towards the back of your mouth. Going down on him was always a bit of a challenge, given just how big he was, but the weight of him inside you, wherever that may be, was far more rewarding. And when you got to feel that little twitch, his cock moving all on its own as it begged for release… It only made you suck harder, sliding your mouth up and down, taking him in deeper until you were nearly gagging. 
But he liked that, the sound of you struggling just a little to take all of him. Daryl was a sensitive man, yes, but he was still a man—proud of his big cock, even if he was insecure in most other areas. At least he was big, and at least he knew how to use it. 
With his hand on the back of your head, firm, but still gentle enough to let you up if you needed it, he pushed you down just a bit more, hearing your gag become more guttural, more strangled. It did not hurt, though. It only turned you on, your fingers curling inside you to tickle that special spot, and your other hand fondling his balls, tightly drawn to the underside of the base of his cock. 
For several moments, the only sounds coming from either of you were your strained groans, his slipping from between his agape lips, yours muffled by his length filling your entire mouth. Between those sounds of pleasure were the sloppy squelches of your lips soaking him with your saliva. You were always so messy when you went down on him, but how could you not be? His cock provided you no room to lick up your drool, stuffing you until your spit had nowhere else to go but down his veiny, hard length.
Of course, he’d have to tease you about it, how sloppy you were. “Messy girl,” he said, his hand gripping your hair to pull back your bangs. You fluttered your eyes open to meet his, and you were greeted by his crooked smile, with just a sliver of those shiny teeth showing. “Gettin’ Daddy all wet, huh? Nice and wet so I can fuck you good.”
Yes, Daddy.
Eyes rolling back slightly, he bucked his hips up with a jolt, your sucking beginning to tip him over the edge. Just in time, too, for your hand was getting tired of rubbing, and you needed him to finish you off.
“F-fuck, angel. Imma need ya to get that pussy ready for me.”
Whatever he wanted, you’d give him. After all, you were his good girl. Always his good girl. You couldn’t think of a time you’d ever been a bad girl for him. Daddy deserved his good girl.
Yes, you were a good girl, but you could still be… needy.
“Oh, Daddy.” Now straddling his waist, your fingers went straight for the first button on his shirt. “Want you.” He loved when you whined, just a little, and when you were so needy for him that you couldn’t quite make out a completely proper sentence. “Want your shirt off.”
He let you undo just a few buttons, exposing the hairs on his chest that drove you crazy, made you want to feel those wiry hairs between your pursed lips as you trailed your kisses all over his broad chest, made so strong and big by all the manual labor he did, and that heavy crossbow he always used. 
That very same strength pulled at your wrists, then raised you up only to lay you down, sprawled out on the other side of the couch. Now he hovered over you, the tip of his cock hanging down to be tickled by the fabric of your blush pink nightie. He always liked pink on you, matched the color of your cheeks when he talked so dirty to you, made you feel like a whore, but not in a disrespectful way. Never in a disrespectful way.
Besides, you knew you were more than that to him. You knew he loved you. Two years together, through some of the most abject pain and suffering imaginable, would do that. But in moments like this, it felt good to be just his personal whore, whom he happened to love very, very much.
Tenderness blossomed between your lips and his, where he kissed you so deeply, so sweetly. And yet, you still clawed at his shirt, your fingers begging for him to let you see his gorgeous body, after so long away from him.
“Shit,” he laughed into your mouth. Sitting up, he began to undo the rest of the buttons, then peeled off his shirt with his chest puffed up, clearly a bit cocky. When your hands shot up to grasp at his pecs, the faded ink of the tattoo above his left nipple having taunted you, he chuckled again.
“Daddy,” you laughed back, your voice a drawn out, dramaticized whine. “Come on.” 
Now you were testing him, and he held back the rest of his laughter to put on a stern, domineering face. “Hey, now. Be a good girl.”
He felt your thighs squeeze together underneath him, and your hips jolting upwards. He knew what you wanted, and he’d give it to you, but this position wasn’t quite right. 
With a breathy grunt, he grabbed you by your waist, flipping you over, then lifting your bottom until it was sticking out at just the right angle. Lifting your nightie, he licked his lips to watch you move your hips from side to side, as if to taunt him. 
“Cute little ass,” he practically cooed. Leaning over you, his chest pressed firmly to your back, he nuzzled his nose against your pillowy cheek. All the while, you felt his hand slide between your now nearly dripping wet folds. Eyes closed softly, you hummed a soft whimper at the feeling. His hands were always different from yours, so much bigger, stronger, rougher. You’d never felt a touch quite like his, and part of it was because he touched you with such tenderness, even if he tried to manhandle you a little. He was still always gentle, somehow.
In the most honeyed, silky, yet scratchy, voice, he rasped in a whisper, “Did ya miss me, angel?” 
“Yes… Daddy, I missed you so, so much.”
“Mm, I missed you, too. So much.”
Finally, you felt his tip just barely graze your hole. Not only was he torturing you, he was torturing himself, but he loved it. He needed it, otherwise he was sure his peak of pleasure would go away just as fast as it would come. With you, in this moment, he needed to prolong the desire as much as he could. He could feel it coming soon, though, that tensing in his muscles, that tingling in the pit of his stomach, that twitching that made his cock seem to bounce against your folds on its own accord. 
As he slid further into you, you felt his lips find the back of your neck, where he left little kisses the more he sank into you. It felt so good to feel him again, that fullness. It was a feeling only he could give you, his unique way of moving, his cock fitting so perfectly inside you. 
Underneath your nightgown, his hands found your breasts. Tense, strong fingers curled like claws at the soft tissue. Even in his dreams, of which he had many while he was away, he could not recreate that texture—that pillowy soft flesh swelling against his fingers. And the inside of you, the warmth and tightness that hugged his cock and accepted him with each pass, in and out. 
Soon, he leaned back to watch your body envelope his, the shiny, milky coating of your arousal making it easier to slip in and out of you, his hips thrusting in ever increasing speed.
“Daddy…” 
God, he loved being called that. Much more than he should’ve. But, then again, he’d probably find you sexy even if you were calling him “dickhead.” He really didn’t mind, as long as you were calling him something. 
“Mm, angel… Daddy’s here now, sweetheart.” He delivered a harder, stronger thrust, pulling a loud, strangled moan out from deep inside of you. “That feel good?”
“Fuck, yes!” 
As if to praise you, he delivered just a small, weak slap to your bum. That was about as hard as he was willing to spank you, given how much he hated the idea of hurting you, but he knew you liked it, and he liked it, too, the clench of your body from the slap making him jolt forward. 
“Takin’ it good… Real good.”
With one hand still squeezing your breast, the other now drawing tight circles over your clit, he made your lips tremble and your muscles tighten as you began to approach the height of pleasure. You could feel it, just on the brink of release. And he felt it, too, which was why he pulled himself out of you, flipping you over again like a ragdoll. 
You were startled when he pulled you down by your ankles, until you were closer to him. He gave his fingers a good, long lick, then let them sink into you, where his cock had left you stretched wide open and dripping wet. 
Three fingers. Three thick, strong fingers, curling up inside you, making you writhe and groan as your hands shot up to grasp at his shoulders. Through half-lidded eyes, you watched his neck bulge with the strain of trying to keep himself from coming, and it only aroused you more—those muscles flexing and throbbing and burning underneath hot, sweat-dripping skin, tanned by days on end out in the sun. 
What he needed so badly was his own release, after so long of working so hard out there, risking his life for the good of Alexandria. As his forearm and biceps flexed with every push of his fingers inside of you, his chest heaved harder and harder, while you reached between your legs to find his cock. With your hand pulling on his length, and your walls clenching around his fingers as your release reached a tipping point, you both would soon be giving each other much needed relief. 
“Daddy,” you sighed, tugging harder on his cock as frustration overtook you. The closer you got to orgasm, the more you couldn’t wait any longer. “Make me come… I wanna come.”
“Ah, angel… I’m gonna come, too.”
Just moments later, you tensed and gasped and writhed and moaned, rocking your hips upward as his fingers stayed inside you, squeezed by your contracting walls. “Oh, Daddy!”
He leaned forward to lay on top of you, his sturdy weight keeping you in place as you rode out your high, soaking his fingers with your arousal. The heat of your cheek seemed to burn his lips as he kissed you there, then rubbed his button nose in delicate circles to soothe you. “Yeah… Daddy’s got ya, sweetheart.”
With your hand still tugging on him, he gasped a heavy breath, spilling out over you right then and there, his hips thrusting into your hand in desperate, sloppy motions. The orgasm was so strong that he lost his composure for a moment, his head falling into your chest as he groaned your name, over and over and over again. 
And now he freed his hand, using it to rub up and down the sides of your torso, your skin like fine silk under his worn, calloused fingers. In his hair were your hands, massaging his scalp the way you knew he liked, until he lifted his head to offer you a gentle smile. 
“Mm, I’ll never get tired of that.”
You tilted your head with a wide grin. “I didn’t think you’d want to do it tonight. I thought you’d be exhausted.”
He breathed a low huff before rolling over onto his side. You did the same, letting him hold you with his chest pressed firmly to your back. There wasn’t much room on that tiny couch, but you made it work. After all, even if you were in bed upstairs, you’d probably still be this close to each other, clinging for dear life, never wanting to be separated again, though you knew someday you’d have to.
“I am,” he said. “Just… I dunno, needed you, s’all.” Observant as he was, he took notice of your shivering, and reached back to grab the knitted blanket that had been draped over the back of the couch. He covered the both of you, then tucked his chin into your shoulder, where it seemed to fit perfectly. “Missed ya so much, could hardly stand bein’ without you.”
Even now, after you thought you’d be used to his sweet words, he still had a way of sending those butterflies aflutter. “Well, now you’re back home.”
That sounded so good to him—back home.
~
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katyswrites · 6 months
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don't call me 'baby'
PART 10 | SERIES
Pairing: Steve Harrington/fem!reader
Warnings: Sugardaddy!Steve, SMUT (18+), angst, mentions of pregnancy/a pregnancy scare, mentions of food and alcohol, unprotected p in v, daddy kink, oral sex (f receiving), creampie, ddlg dynamics, swearing, alcohol use, smoking, age gap, no use of y/n
Wordcount: 10.4K
A sugar daddy modern AU, a whirlwind summer romance in Italy, and two people from completely different walks of life, somehow finding each other in one of the most beautiful cities in the world. But, what will happen when summer ends?
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PART 10 | meet me in the afterglow
FOUR MONTHS LATER
Your walk to work was chilly enough to warrant a coat. That was perhaps the thing you missed least about home in the U.S. - even though the winters certainly got cold here, it was nowhere near the sub-zero temperatures you had grown up with during the coldest time of year. Maybe the only thing you missed was snow - in all of your time living here, you had only gotten a brief dusting once, and it had melted by the following day.
Still, a week out from Christmas, you now needed to wrap something warm around yourself as you walked down the street, heading closer to the city center as your shift was due to start. 
You were technically two minutes late to your shift, the coffee shop busy enough to have a line going out the door when you arrived. Yet, your manager Francesco said nothing - a small spark of joy in your day. 
You didn’t necessarily need to go back to work - Steve’s money had yet to run out. But, you felt good about earning your own money - and, the less you had to draw on his remaining funds, the less you had to think about him.
You hadn’t seen or spoken to Steve since the night of your argument. Well, that was only partially true - you had received one piece of communication from him. It came a few days later - you had been moping in your apartment, having barely left your room for days, when an envelope arrived. It had his familiar writing and wax seal, with another wad of cash and a letter made out to you:
I promise this is the last you’ll hear from me. I am a man of my word, so I promise to help provide for you until you’re finished with school. I’ll be transferring enough money to your account to cover all of your expenses, so no need to worry about your rent, food, anything of the sort… I really do want you to be able to focus on school, okay? So, please don’t protest, or try to send the money back. Please feel free to use the credit card if you need to. 
I’m sorry it ended this way. We both knew it was going to, but I apologize if I said anything out of line the other night. I truly do wish you the best. 
Take care,
Steve
Reading it had been a punch to the gut. The formality of it, the finality of it… you would’ve rather that you never heard from him again. You had stashed the letter in a box under your bed, and not looked at it since.
A few weeks after that, you had pregnancy scare. It was silly, really - but, your period was late, and if was the first conclusion your mind had jumped to. You had called Robin in a panic, begging her to come home - she did, with four different brands of pregnancy tests. Those 15 minutes of waiting for results were the most agonizing of your life - then, upon seeing them all negative, you fell to your knees and burst into tears.
“It’s okay,” Robin had cooed, rubbing soothing circles on your back. “You’re good it was a false alarm - you’re probably just late because of stress -”
“I know,” you sobbed. “I just -”
“What is it?”
You then had sat up, chest heaving as you sobbed.
“He’s really gone isn’t he?”
Robin held you in her arms that night as you cried yourself to sleep.
To your knowledge now, he had gone back to the U.S. - was he still in Chicago? Or, did he go back to New York? You realized it was better for you to not ask these questions, or to think of him at all. As the weeks had turned into months, you found yourself thinking of him a little less each day - but you still thought of him. You saw him in the passersby as you walked down the street, in every car window, in every businessman walking through the door to order a coffee. Sometimes, you’d hear a laugh, or get a brief whiff of cigarette smoke, and swear it was him. But it never was - it never would be again.
The days had dragged on, but luckily, you often found yourself too busy to dwell too much on thoughts of Steve. Between work and school, your plate was pretty full. With graduation in mere weeks, you had spent the entire term studying and working on your thesis. Steve’s remaining money, at least, allowed you to work far less hours than you had before - a small blessing, you supposed. 
The day was moving pretty quickly, the morning rush busy enough that two hours flew by without much notice. It was only during the afternoon lull that you found yourself able to look up from the espresso machine - only to lock eyes with a familiar face through the window.
Eddie smiled back at you, waving. You couldn’t help but grin, and beckoned him to come inside. He bounded through the glass doors, bursting into the coffee shop with the infectious, chaotic energy he always carries with him.
“Bella, how are you?” he asked, leaning over the counter with a big grin.
“I’m okay,” you said, shrugging.
He raised an eyebrow.
“Just okay?”
“Oh well - you know, a bit stressed with the end of term and all. But, that’ll all be over soon.”
“I’m almost done, too - just finishing up my exams, all of that nonsense.”
“Do you have someone for your thesis?”
You nodded. “Professor Hopper - he’s always had a soft spot for me,” you said, smiling fondly, thinking of the seemingly-gruff. 
“I have Clarke - I don’t actually know how much he knows about photography, he teaches chemistry for godsake, but apparently it’s a hobby or something, so he’ll sign off on whatever I do,” Eddie said, laughing.
“Oh! I forgot to tell you - I actually have my own studio space now.”
“What? Eddie, that’s amazing!”
He grinned. “Thanks - I mean, I’m still technically freelance, but I’m hoping once I’m fully graduated more work will start coming in. But for now, I don’t mind having some spare time to practice with the band.”
You did your best to stop yourself from rolling your eyes.
“Right - don’t forget me when you make it as a big rockstar, Eddie.”
He let out a hearty laugh at that, the infectious kind that had you joining in - you hadn’t laughed like that in quite some time.
“You know, you should come by later to check it out,” Eddie said. “I mean, if you want -”
You thought for a moment, then nodded.
“Sure, why not - I get off in about a half hour -”
“Perfect,” he cried, clapping his hands together. “I’ll just wait around then - and, uh, can I get an espresso? Since I’m already here and all.”
You rolled your eyes, fighting a smile.
“Yeah, sure thing Munson - I’ll take my sweet time with it, just for you.”
The end of your shift flew by, and soon enough you were pulling off your apron, linking your arm in Eddie’s as he led you out the door and through the city.
The studio, as it turned out, was only a few blocks away. The space was small, but nice - a big glass storefront allowed plenty of light in, even with the fading sun, indicative of the short days of winter. Some of Eddie’s work hung framed on the walls - city scenes, candids of people on the street, bands in action at his favorite club… and even a few of you, from the project you posed for a few years ago.
“Wow - this is amazing, Eddie!” you exclaimed, glancing around the studio with genuine pride for your friend. You knew this was always the goal for him, what he always wanted to do.
“Grazie mille,” he said, beaming. 
“Do you have anything lined up?”
He nodded.
“Some - nothing too interesting. A few weddings, graduation photoshoots, things like that. Oh, do you want to see the photo lab?”
You let him lead the way into the back room, passing through a dimly-lit room with machines and equipment that you were sure you had no idea how to use. Newly developed photos were hanging around on clothespins, or spread across the table in the middle.
“Back there is the darkroom,” Eddie said, gesturing to a small door on the other side of the room. “But yeah, this is where the magic happens.”
“You develop all your pictures this way?” you asked, examining a few laid across the table.
He shook his head. “Not exactly - only the stuff I shoot on film. A lot of what I do is digital, and I edit that on my computer but… I really do love shooting film. I only really do that for specific things. Oh, which reminds me!”
He turned his back to you, rummaging through a filing cabinet until he produced a large manila envelope, extending it to you. You furrowed your brow, confused. You turned it to examine it properly - the only thing written on it was your name and a date, in Eddie’s telltale scrawl.
“What -”
“It’s those pictures I owe you, from your birthday party - sorry, it took me a while to get around to developing them.”
Oh. 
“Oh,” you said quietly, gripping the envelope a bit tighter. “Uh, thanks - that was really nice of you, Eddie.”
You were still staring down at the parcel in your hands, your hands shaking a bit - you had completely forgotten that Eddie had been taking pictures all night. Most likely because you had been a bit distracted at the time. But now…
“I think they turned out pretty nice, if you ask me,” Eddie said. “But, you can be the judge of that yourself.”
You pressed your mouth into a tight line, nearly feigning a smile as you finally met his eyes again. He was looking back expectantly, and you realized he wanted you to look at them now. 
“Oh, yeah,” you mumbled. “I guess I’ll just -”
You opened it up, sliding out the stack of photos - they were slightly bigger than the ones you had seen from a digital camera, on a beautiful matte paper that you knew must have not been cheap. This, you realized, was Eddie’s belated birthday gift to you.
You thumbed through the pictures - the first few were just candids of your friends on the dancefloor, or deep in conversation around the bar. There were a few of you and Robin, arms thrown around each other and smiling ear-to-ear.
There were quite a few solo shots of you, raising a glass to the camera, mid-laugh, or dancing - somehow, he had made it look like you truly were the center of attention, as if to tell people this is who we were there for! 
You couldn’t help but smile to yourself, laughing quietly at a few of the shots, including one of Robin flipping off the camera as she kisses Vickie. Then, your smile dropped, because there he was.
Steve, looking as handsome as you remembered, but somehow also a stranger, or like a figment of your imagination. Somehow, a small part of your subconscious had convinced you over the last few months that perhaps he wasn’t real, a true figment of your imagination that had been too good to be true. But there he was, large as life, his arm wrapped around you as you smiled into the camera. You were smiling in his arms, a girl completely unrecognizable in some ways. In another photo, he’s pressing a kiss to your cheek as you laugh - you remembered that one being taken, that’s for sure. You gently trailed your fingers across the picture, as if you were hoping to reach in and pull that happy girl out, just to shake a bit of sense into her. You didn’t even realize you were crying until a fat wet teardrop his the page, rolling down and off the edge.
“Whoa - are you alright?” Eddie asked, his voice tinged with worry.
You jumped, having nearly forgotten that he was there at all. How long had you been staring at the pictures of Steve? For a few minutes, or hours? There was no way to know.
“Yeah, I’m good,” you said, the thickness in your voice betraying you. You pressed the heels of your hands under your eyes, willing the gentle tears to stop, sniffling.
“What’s wrong?” Eddie asked softly.
You laughed dryly, more hot tears welling up as you did.
“Nothing! I - they’re beautiful, Eddie. Really - thank you. You - you’ve really got a talent.”
Your voice wobbled a bit at the end, and you sniffled.
“I’m sorry, I - it’s nothing to do with you,” you assured him. “I just - I’ve been having a hard time lately.”
Eddie cocked his head, confused. Then, his eyes flitted down to the picture in your hands.
“Oh - I’m sorry, I - is this about him?” Eddie asked quietly, gesturing to the photos. You just nodded, avoiding his gaze again as you stuffed them back into the envelope.
“I didn’t know you two had broken up, I’m sorry -”
“We didn’t break up!” you snapped, harsher than intended. “Fuck, I - sorry, that came out wrong. We didn’t break up, because we were never exactly together. It’s just complicated.”
Eddie furrowed his brow. “Yeah, okay - well, I’m sorry to hear about your not-breakup. I guess I’m just a little surprised.”
“Why’s that?” you asked.
He shrugged. “I spent a long time looking at all of those when I was developing them - you know how they say pictures tell a thousand words?”
You nodded.
“Well - I take pictures of a lot of couples - weddings, engagement shoots, all of that… and I’ve never seen two people more in love than you two.”
You felt your chest tighten - maybe you were being a lovesick idiot at your party, but Steve?
You shook your head. “No - Eddie, it… it wasn’t like that. I can promise you that.”
Steve made that perfectly clear.
Eddie shrugged again. “I’m just telling you what I observed, that’s all.”
“Well maybe you should mind your business,” you grumbled.
Fuck. You shouldn’t have said that.
Eddie’s face fell a bit, and he slowly took a step back, hands shoved in his pockets.
“My apologies,” he whispered. He was hurt, that much was obvious. You mentally kicked yourself.
“No Eddie - I’m sorry, I didn’t -” 
You sighed, frustrated.
“Things have been, like, really weird the last few months and… it doesn’t matter.”
“I could tell,” he said, voice quiet. “You’ve been.. Distant.”
You nodded, the awkwardness filling the space between you two. You had fucked this up too, somehow.
“So,” you said, clearing your throat. “Uh, it’s getting late, and dark… I probably should head home.”
“Yeah, okay - good idea, I have some stuff to work on anyway.”
You both nodded, avoiding eye contact as you both headed out back into the studio.
It wasn’t until you were at the door that you turned to face Eddie again.
“The place really is beautiful… I’m proud of you,” you said sincerely. He offered a small smile in return.
“Thanks.”
“I also - the pictures are beautiful. Thank you for these, I - they’re great.”
“I’m sorry if they -”
“Don’t apologize,” you said firmly. “They’re great - you’ve really got a gift, you know.”
You could tell Eddie was fighting a real smile, a small win in your book.
“C’mon, you know my ego’s just fine on its own.”
You laughed, and without thinking, pulled him into a tight hug.
“I’m sorry I lost it a little earlier,” you whispered.
“It’s alright,” he said, pulling away. “Heartbreak is funny like that.”
You decided not to bother protesting his assessment this time, too tired to start a fight again just to feel something.
“Right, okay.”
“Are you sure you don’t want me to take out the photos with… him?” Eddie asked, gesturing down to the envelope.
“No, that’s alright - I’m a big girl, I can go through them. I’m definitely going to hang a few of these up though, so thanks again.”
“Take good care of yourself darling, alright? And come by any time - for any reason.”
It was an olive branch, an assurance that things were okay. You forced a smile, nodding.
“Thanks, Eddie - you’re a great friend, you know.”
You bid your farewells, and left the studio with a strange feeling settling within you. You pulled your coat a little tighter around you, stuffing the envelope underneath as you charged through the chilly evening air to the nearest bus stop.
You didn’t get home until nearly 6pm, the winter sky fully dark by then. By the time you walked a few blocks and up the stairs to your apartment, your face was stinging from the cold, the wind picking up more since that afternoon.
Robin was on the couch, a rerun of Friends playing on the TV.
“Hey! You’re back kind of late,” she remarked.
“Yeah - I ran into Eddie, funnily enough,” you replied, hoping you sounded nonchalant.
“Oh really? How is he? I miss him - we should really make a plan to hang out with him soon -”
“Yeah, for sure,” you said, kicking off your shoes and hanging your coat on the rack. “He’s good - I saw his new studio, it’s nice.”
“Oh, no way! That’s great - I need to go sometime -”
“Yeah, totally,” you said, absentminded. “Uh, I’ve got some stuff to do, but I’ll be out here later -”
“Maybe we can get takeout or something -”
“Yeah, perfect -” you tittered, closing your bedroom door behind you, eyes on the envelope in your hands.
You bit your lip, debating what to do. Part of you considered finding all of the pictures of Steve, and burning them. But, that felt a bit dramatic. You pulled out the stack again, sifting through until you found the shots of him. You couldn’t help but smile, looking at how happy the girl in the photos was - if only she knew how quickly things would fall apart that night. The photo of Steve kissing you cheek was your favorite - it was just full of pure, unbridled joy. The one after that was the one you stared at for quite some time, though. You were looking into the camera, grinning widely. Steve, however, wasn’t - no, he was looking at you. You stared at him for quite some time - and remembered Eddie’s words.
I’ve never seen two people more in love than you two.
You had thought it was crazy - but, in the picture, Steve was looking at you like you’d hung the stars. Like, if he didn’t have you, he’d be lost. He was looking at you with eyes full of love - you just hadn’t been looking.
You gasped, realizing what Eddie had seen that you couldn’t - maybe everything had meant more to Steve than he had let on. No, that was crazy - wasn’t it?
What happened next didn’t have much explanation - it was probably crazy. You found yourself Googling Steve’s company headquarters in Chicago - it couldn’t be this easy, could it? But it was.
A quick call through the directory brought you to his secretary, a bubbly woman who was more than happy to help. You pretended to be the secretary of a business partner you had remembered Steve mentioning, saying how you wanted to send a thank-you gift - it had been too easy to get his home address, really. And, a confirmation that he was back in Chicago.
The next morning, you sent out an envelope, sticking on international postage. You debated not putting your name on the return address, but ultimately decided to include it - he’d recognize the address anyway. When you dropped it at the post office, you walked away feeling a sense of relief - and, perhaps, just a bit unhinged. TIme would tell if anything came of it. But, at the very least, it felt like finally closing the chapter of your life that had been defined by Steve Harrington. And, that was a good thing… right?
********
The day before Christmas Eve, you received great news: confirmation that you had passed all of your exams, your thesis receiving glowing feedback from the professors in your department. Your degree, which studied Art History and Travel and Tourism Management, meant that you would actually be able to stay here - you hoped to work in tourism in some way right here in Rome, or perhaps work in one of the city’s many museums - being bilingual would help, and more importantly, it meant you never had to set foot back in the United States again, if you didn’t want.
Christmas brought its usual cheer and celebration, complete with mulled wine and a potluck dinner you and Robin held for some of the other foreign students you were friendly with, knowing they didn’t have families to go to for the holidays. Your graduation only brought extra festivities, including a speech prepared by Robin given as a toast at dinner, saying how proud she was of you (and, how jealous she was that you didn’t have to worry about schoolwork anymore). It was silly yet sincere enough to make you tear up and pull her into a big hug. Eddie and Jonathan even swung by for a bit, joining in on the celebration until the wee hours of the morning. Robin and Vickie were all over each otherYou ate and drank to your heart’s content before stumbling to bed, leaving cleanup in the kitchen for the morning.
The morning of Boxing Day, it turned out, was actually the afternoon, with you and Robin oversleeping. You, to your own relief, felt tired, but not too hungover - the same couldn’t be said for Robin and Vickie, who stumbled into the kitchen with grimaces on their faces and grumbles as a greeting.
You spent most of the day cleaning up from the last two days’ festivities, washing dishes and clearing away wrapping paper, wiping countertops and vacuuming just enough until your home felt semi-in order. 
You were still in your pajamas as it was getting dark again in the evening, a rarity these days. When Robin said she was heading out to dinner with Vickie and likely would be staying at her place that night, you bid her farewell, looking forward to some time alone to fully relax and unwind. 
It was several hours later, after scrounging together a dinner of Christmas leftovers and half-dozing on the couch while a movie played, that your doorbell rang. You sat up with a start, your heart jumping at the unexpected intrusion. You stumbled to the door, grumbling about who could possibly be here at this hour - maybe Robin decided to come back after all, and got locked out again? You were ready to playfully ridicule her when you opened the door. But when you saw who was standing on the other side, you froze.
Steve Harrington was there on your doorstep, barely illuminated in the dim light. His chest was heaving, his hair just a bit disheveled. His eyes widened when he saw you, and you imagined you did the same. Your heart plummeted to your stomach at the sight of him, so real and alive in front of you. Were you dreaming? Was this some sick prank?
Neither of you said anything for a moment, two mouths hanging open, searching for the words.
“It’s Christmas,” you blurted out, the first words you’ve said to him in over four months.
“It’s December 26th,” he replied, simply and casually.
“I - well, it’s still a holiday, kind of.”
“Yeah, I know - do you know how hard it is to catch a last-minute flight on Christmas?”
You just stood there in the doorway, unable to think of anything else to say - what the fuck?
“What are you doing here?” you asked, words biting. You were lashing out a bit, but you didn’t care - this moment right now reminded you of a similar one over the summer, when he came to your doorstep to explain how he wasn’t engaged. What was his excuse now?
“Why did you send me this?” he asked, holding up a familiar envelope - the photo.
Why did you? You weren’t certain of that answer yourself. So, you went with the first explanation that came to your head.
“It’s a good picture of you,” you said quietly.
He rolled his eyes.
“Do not - I don’t hear from you for months, then I get this in the mail - on Christmas Eve, mind you -”
“I’m sorry, were you supposed to hear from me?”
“I don’t know!” he cried. “Maybe?”
You scoffed. “You can’t be serious - you made it very clear that you never wanted to see me again.”
“I - what?”
“I wish you well? Take care? We ended things, Steve - what else was I meant to think?”
He sighed, his shoulders sagging.
“I don’t know. I guess part of me - it doesn’t matter. But, what am I supposed to make of this?” he asks, waving the envelope.
“I - Eddie gave me a bunch of pictures he took at my birthday party… I thought maybe you’d want that one.”
He took a tentative step closer towards you, gauging your reaction. You held your ground, not breaking eye contact.
“Is that the only reason?” he asked, voice low.
You felt your heartbeat quicken, your palms clammy - he really was just so handsome. Still, there was something so boyish about him, something that reminded you of why you fell for him in the first place. He had cut his hair a bit, his summer tan faded - and he looked tired. Then again, you probably did too - you suddenly became conscious of the fact that you were in your pajamas, still looking like you had just woken up - you wished you could disappear, never to be perceived again.
“Yeah,” you whispered. “The only reason.”
He was close enough now that you could see his Adam’s Apple bob as he gulped, his eyes glancing up and down your form as he took a deep breath.
“Tell me that, when you sent this, there wasn’t at least a small part of you that hoped I’d respond - that, when you sent this, you hoped I’d call, or show up here. If there wasn’t, I’ll walk away right now, and you’ll never have to see me again.”
There it was - everything laid out on the table. So much was still unsaid - but, it was obvious that he also had been hurting the last few months, that he didn’t want this to end, maybe even nearly as much as you did. 
“You really flew all the way here because I sent you a photo?” you whispered.
He nodded. “Of course I did.”
“You realize how crazy that is, right?”
He chuckled dryly.
“Well, they do say it makes you do crazy things.”
“...it?” you asked, voice wavering.
He nodded.
Oh.
“Come inside,” you murmured. “It’s pretty cold out there.”
As soon as the door was shut behind him, he began spiraling into a new explanation.
“I hope you know that I didn’t come here just to - you’re right, it is kind of crazy, but I didn’t know what else to do, after everything that happened -”
“I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” you said, cutting him off. “I don’t want to talk at all.”
You both stood there for a moment, eyes locked on eachother. Then, as if reading each other’s minds, you both moved at once - you crashed your lips into his, fast and desperate. He sighed against your lips, pulling you close as his tongue slipped into your mouth. 
You felt like crying - you had missed him so much, more than you had realized - his voice, his warmth, his scent - it brought everything flooding back, the feelings you had buried in an attempt at self-preservation. But now, as you kissed him, you felt the tears well up, stinging your eyes as they rolled down your face, hot and fast.
“Whoa - baby, it’s okay - what’s wrong -”
Baby. 
“Nothing,” you cried, wiping the tears away. “I just - I really fucking missed you.”
You felt stupid to admit it, but then again, didn’t he come close to confessing that himself just a few moments ago?
“I know, I know, baby - you have no fuckin’ idea -”
Another kiss, passionate and apologetic.
“I didn’t mean any of what I said that night,” you gasped, pulling him closer. “I was just so scared -”
“I know, me too, baby - m’sorry -”
Baby. Babybabybaby.
He was holding your face between his hands now, backing you up until you were pressed against the wall, his lips finding yours again. He titled his head down to nuzzle at your throat, pressing his lips to the sensitive skin there. You tipped your head back, giving him full access to do as he pleased. He kissed and nipped at your neck, until you were moaning and crying out his name, pulling at his coat until it fell off of his shoulders. You twisted your hands in his button-down, his hands squeezing tighter on your waist in response.
“Fuck, Steve,” you breathed. “I’m sorry -”
“Stop with that,” he said, firmly taking your face in his hands again, catching your lips in another gentle kiss. “You’re right, I just realy don’t want to talk anymore -”
Then he was kissing you again, swallowing your noises as you whined his name, fingers gripping his hair.
“Bedroom, now,” you told him. “Please -”
“Yeah, okay.”
He couldn’t keep his hands off of you, both of you stumbling down the small hallway and into your bedroom, Steve slamming the door closed behind him with his foot.
“No Robin?” he asked, lips finding your neck again.
“No - ah! She’s at Vickie’s tonight -”
“Thank Christ,” he growled. “I don’t know how quiet I’m capable of being right now.”
He was apparently as desperate as you were, lips finding yours hungrily as he pulled your oversized t-shirt over your head, eyes practically rolling to the back of his head when he saw your breasts.
“No bra?” he asked.
“I was lounging around, until you showed up -”
“Thank god,” he practically snarled, his hands finding the small of your back to pull you close.
You reached between yourselves, unbuttoning his shirt, fingers slipping as they shook with anticipation. He reached down to help you, until he eventually shrugged the shirt off. You wrapped your arms around him, pressing your bare chest to his, nearly crying again from the contact.
“I really missed you,” he whispered, a man ruined. “I never thought I’d be able to have you like this again -”
“None of that,” you murmured, pressing a finger to his lips. “It’s alright.”
You just stared at him, running your hands down his chest as you took a deep breath.
“I need to tell you something.”
“What is it?” he asked, face flickering with concern. “Oh god, are - are you seeing someone else? I didn’t even ask -”
“No! No, nothing like that,” you assured, biting your lip. “I just - do you remember the night of my birthday on our trip, on the rooftop?”
He nodded. “That was a really nice night.”
“I haven’t been totally honest with you,” you admitted, heart racing as you were ready to lay out the thing you had been terrified to admit aloud.
“About what?” he asked softly, cupping your cheek gently with his palm.
“Remember when I said something in Italian, and you asked what it meant? And I just said it meant I loved the gift, the star thing?”
He nodded. You took a deep, shuddering breath.
“That wasn’t exactly true. I - I said that I was in love with you,” you managed, voice quivering at the end. “That’s why I was so scared - I didn’t realize until I said it… I had broken our rule, our number one rule -”
“Hey, hey -” he cooed, shaking his head. “Did you mean it?”
You hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “Yeah - I still do.”
The few seconds that passed after that had your stomach doing somersaults - what if he still didn’t feel that way, and everything he had said in the doorway was bullshit? You thought you were going to be sick -
But his face softened, his eyes glistening - was he going to cry?
“Fuck the rules. I stopped following those a long time ago,” he said.
Your heart fluttered, your face heating.
“Are you saying -”
“How did you say it in Italian again?” he asked. “I’m sorry, I’ve been slacking on my lessons without you around.”
You laughed. “Oh, um, it’s sono innamorato di te. It translates directly as I’m in love with you, or I’m falling for you.”
He nodded. “Well then - sono innamorato di te.”
You felt like your chest was about to explode, and before you knew it, you were crying again. He was too, you realized, his cheeks glistening with tears as he choked a sob with laughter.
“We could’ve saved ourselves a lot of trouble if we both just said that in the first place,” he said, reaching to wipe away some of your tears.
“How long?” you asked.
“Since the night of the gala I brought you to. So… longer. I guess I win.”
You sobbed again, Steve swallowing the sound with another kiss. It’s wet and salty with tears, a mess of apologies and confessions.
“Steve - I -”
“I know, baby,” he whispered, kissing your salty cheeks. “It’s alright - I’m here now -”
The conversation truly stopped after that - you couldn’t keep your hands off of one another, shedding clothes until you were nude and devouring each other with desperation unlike anything you had ever felt before.
Steve was pressing his lips between your breasts when you asked, voice breathy and filled with need.
“Steve - I need you, please -”
“Mm - yeah, okay -”
Before he could move, you were reaching down to grasp his cock in your hand. He gasped, pupils blown as his head thumped back against the wall. The noise that came out of him was unholy, wrecked and ruined as you brushed your thumb along his leaking tip.
“Christ, baby -”
“Can I suck you off, please?” you asked, desperate to make him come undone. 
“Honey - you can’t - I just, I wanna fuck you so bad… I won’t last if I let you get your mouth on me, baby.”
You pouted, even as your heart raced with the thrill of knowing you’d have him inside you again.
“Next time,” he said, “I swear.”
A promise of a next time, of a thousand more times - you started kissing him again, lips bruising his - losing yourself in any drink or drug would never compared to losing yourself in Steve Harrington, you decided.
“Get on the bed,” he muttered, gently pushing you back. You did as he asked, falling back onto the mattress gently as he joined you, face hovering inches from yours.
His hair was a mess, pupils blown and lips glossy. He just shook his head, as if in disbelief.
“What?” you asked.
“You’re just so beautiful,” he breathed. 
You felt your face heat, and you buried your face in your hands.
“Shut up.”
“About you? Not likely.”
Before you could come up with a clever remark, he was kissing your neck again, his lips traveling down slowly between the valley of your breasts, taking his time - he was going to leave bruises, you already knew.
But he didn’t stop, traveling down, down, down - 
“What are you -”
“I never said I didn’t want to taste you first,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh. “I miss having my mouth on you so fuckin’ much -”
“Fuck,” you gasped. “You’re unreal -”
“Says you,” he retorted. Whatever you planned to say next died on your lips, anything resembling a coherent thought dissolving as his lips found your cunt.
“Oh my god,” you groaned, back arching as his tongue swirled around your clit.
“Just as fuckin’ sweet as I remembered,” he whispered, his breath against your pussy making your chest heave.
He licked a stripe along your slit, making your back arch off the bed, your eyes fluttering closed.
“Be loud for me, baby,” he murmured, lips finding your clit again. You did as he asked, moaning and crying out his name as he devoured your pussy, eliciting desperate sounds from you as your fingers wound themselves in his hair. He groaned as you pulled on his locks, encouraging you to continue doing so as he opted to slide a finger inside you.
“Fuck - Steve! Ohmygod, fuck -”
You felt him smile as he lapped and licked at your folds, adding a second finger and beginning to pump them in earnest, finding that spot inside of you too easily. 
You were crying out, bucking your hips against Steve’s lips, like putty in his hands. For about ten minutes you were completely his, mind numb with pleasure as he took you apart with his mouth. You let him, feeling the blunt fingernails of his free hand digging into your thigh, pulling you as close as possible.
“Steve - I’m gonna - I’m so close, y’feel too good -”
Encouraged, he picked up the pace a bit, sending you completely over the edge. When you came, you saw stars, grinding down on Steve’s mouth and fingers. You were screaming, and he helped you through it, nuzzling against your core as you pulsed around his fingers. Your hand left his hair and found his temple, gently coaxing him closer as you rode out your orgasm.
You were still breathing heavily as he kissed his way slowly back up your body, worshiping every inch of skin he could find. YOu didn’t let your eyes open again until he was face-to-face with you, chin glistening with your release as he wore a smug grin.
“Such a good girl for me,” he murmured. “Tasted so good… you came so hard for me -”
“Mm -” you hummed, pulling him down for a kiss. You tasted yourself on him, the sensation completely euphoric.
“Do you need some time?” he asked gently.
You ran a finger over your clit, still sensitive and puffy, and shook your head.
“No, I’m okay - I actually really need you to fuck me.”
“Thank god,” he said, exasperated. “I don’t think I can go another second without fucking you -”
“I know -”
“I would dream about you, you know - all the time. I’d wake up in the middle of the night with a hard-on, of a mess in my boxers like a fuckin’ teenager -”
“I know what you mean,” you admitted, recalling a few times you had thought of him as you touched yourself since he’d left. 
“Please tell me you’re still on the fuckin’ pill -”
“Yeah, I am - God, Steve -”
“I know, I know - ready baby?”
You nodded, locking your eyes with his as he positioned himself above you, pushing inside of you ever so slowly. You could tell he was holding back, doing everything he could to not enter you in one rough movement. You winced at the stretch, nearly forgetting just how big he was. He kissed apologies across your face, gasping as he felt your warm walls envelope him.
“Fuck -” he groaned, burying his face in your neck. “I can’t believe I went so long without this - you feel so fuckin’ perfect, baby - such a tight, perfect pussy -”
“You feel so good,” you breathed, digging your fingernails into his shoulderblades. “Steve - I’m so full, please fuck me -”
He did as you asked, rolling his hips against yours, eliciting a groan from both of you. He was still holding back you could tell - but you didn’t have time for that, not after months of missing him, of missing this -
“Let go, baby,” you whispered. “Please -”
“What did you just call me?” he asked.
“I - baby,” you repeated. You realized you never had before - was that wrong?
“Say it again,” he breathed.
“Baby,” you breathed, gasping as he thrust into you a little harder. 
“Baby, please - fuck me, let go,” you cried.
It became fast and hard quickly, the desperation you shared impossible to mask. The slapping of his hips against yours was positively dirty, Steve’s arms caging you underneath him as he pounded into you. Your hand snaked down between you, your own finger finding your clit.
“That’s it, baby,” he groaned, continuing his relentless pace. “Touch yourself for me, just like that - M’not gonan last long, I’m sorry, you just feel too good -”
“It’s okay,” you assured, pressing a kiss to his lips. “I want you to lose it.”
He groaned, the room filling with the sound of slapping skin and moans, your names on each other’s lips.
Nothing else mattered, not when Steve was making you feel like this, not when he had flown across an ocean on a whim, a desperate hope to just see you again, even if only for a moment. You suddenly became so overwhelmed with love for this man, this person who had turned your world upside down - it was indescribable, impossible to even express. So you just held him tight, burying your face into his shoulder.
“M’close - I need you to come with me, baby - can you do that? I know you can, you’re always so good for me -”
You nodded, unable to formulate words anymore.
“I fuckin’ love you,” he cried, hips stuttering, his thrusts growing sloppier. “So much, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you - I love you, baby -”
His words sent you over the edge, white-hot pleasure surging through your body as you screamed his name. The feeling of you clamping around him sending him into his own orgasm. He spilled inside of you, your name on his lips like a prayer. He practically collapsed on top of you, the feeling of his heartbeat against yours feeling like home, like it was always meant to be this way.
Your breaths were labored, sweet kisses peppered across skin. Neither of you spoke for quite some time. After he rolled off of you, he immediately wrapped his arms around you, pulling you as close as physically possible.
He pressed a kiss to your forehead, slow and gentle. It was only when you pulled back, brushing some of his sweaty hair away from his face, that you broke the silence.
“I love you, too,” you murmured. You brushed your fingers along his face, and he caught your wrist, pressing kisses to your palm and knuckles, as if determined to worship you every chance he got.
“I want more than an arrangement,” he whispered. “I don’t want rules, or a deal, or -”
“Yeah, that was obvious,” you replied, chuckling. “And, me too.”
“And, you were right - you have school, and I never wanted you to think I just wanted you like a trophy or something - you have your own life, aspirations, and i know that - I just like spoiling you, but I never wanted you to give up who you are,” he said, face soft. “I need you to know that.”
“I do,” you murmured.
You really did. 
“Besides, I graduated.”
He raised an eyebrow. “What? When?”
“Officially? A few days ago.”
He smiled, soft and sincere - part of you was worried he might cry again.
“Congratulations - I’ll have to take you out to celebrate.”
“Mm - sounds good to me. How long - when are you here until?”
There was still life to reckon with, after all - living on two different continents, jobs, obligations - the kind of thing that could ruin this. But, he just shook his head.
“I bought an open-ended ticket. So, until whenever you want.”
“I - what? What about work?”
He shrugged. “Turns out, when you run the place, you can get away with that stuff.”
Your jaw dropped.
“What? Are you serious?”
He nodded. “Brenner’s out. I’m in - youngest CEO in the company’s history.” 
You laughed, pressing your palm to your forehead as you stared at the ceiling in disbelief.
“Steve - that’s amazing. But how -”
“Shhh - we’ll figure everything out later. But, let’s at least ring in the new year together, yeah?”
You nodded cautiously - he really was here, now, and wanted to make it work.
“Okay,” you said. “Sounds good.”
“Hey - you know what’s really pissing me off, though?”
“What?” you asked, wary as a pit of dread formed in your gut.
“I have to thank Eddie fucking Munson for fixing this.”
You laughed, a real, hearty laugh, and in that moment, you realized things were going to be okay.
******
That night, you slept better than you had in months, safe and warm in Steve’s arms. That was, until you woke to Robin’s scream the next morning, both of you shooting up in bed with a start.
“WHAT IS HE DOING IN YOUR BED?” she cried, shielding her eyes. “God - I wish I could bleach my eyes - motherfucker -”
Then, the door was slamming shut, Robin bemoaning her luck as she bolted down the hall to her own room.
You felt your face heat with embarrassment, sinking under the covers.
“Well - I guess I owe her an explanation -”
“Later,” Steve saidly, shaking his head incredulously. “For Christmas, I’m getting you a fucking industrial lock for that door!”
Then you were laughing, blissful and unable to control yourself, Steve joining you. He kissed the giggles away, pulling your body to his, and not much talking happened after that.
It didn’t matter what real life held after this - because Steve was here, and he was yours. Wherever you ended up, you realized, if you were with Steve, you would be home.
He was here to stay.
author's note: Hi y'all - thanks for your patience! This story isn't quite done - there will be an epilogue posted tomorrow. But, that's essentially the conclusion of don't call me 'baby' - I told you it would be a happy ending! Shoutout to @is-writing for some help with this. And of course as always, Em, without whom this fic wouldn't have happened. Comments, reblogs, and messages are always welcome - keep an eye out for the epilogue!
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cottontears · 1 year
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hi hi! baby! I loved what you wrote before!!
can I please request, if it’s okay with you!
stepdad henry cavill with some somno, and maybe reader is a bit of a dummy bimbo type..🥺 like she walks around in very revealing clothes without really meaning to, and henry can’t take it anymore, he doesn’t care if he’s caught, he just needs to have her?
I love you! take your time, or don’t write it if you don’t feel comfortable!💗💗
constantly on the cusp (of trying to kiss you)
��⁀➷ step-dad ! henry cavill x dummy bimbo, innocent fem! reader
ೃ⁀➷ word count: 1.9k
ೃ⁀➷ a/n: WHY THE FUCK AM I SUCH A WHORE FOR THIS CONCEPT?!!!!!!! i litterally put everything on pause to write this. bc your brain>>>>>>> DAMN BABE! I LOVED WRITING THIS. (hope you enjoy this as much as i enjoyed writing this). - hope you like the daddy kink 🫠-
ೃ⁀➷ WARNINGS: dumbification kink, innocence kink, virgin ! reader, somnofilia, STEP-CEST, dry humping, unprotected p in v sex! DADDY KINK
ೃ⁀➷ please reblog & leave a comment with your thoughts 🫶🏻
╰➤ linktree ╰➤ pinterest╰➤ work in a03 ╰➤ requests are open check rules
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henry was a good man. or at least he thought he was.
when he was left in charge of you, all his values and his moral compass flew out the window.
it was a warm sunny summer morning, and the huge windows of the country house were wide open. he had worked hard to find a place like this for you and him. even his subconscious was plotting against him. he had you for the whole summer before you went back to college. three whole months of just you and him alone in a huge secluded house in the middle of nowhere italy.
the house being huge should have been a reprieve for him. but he did not find the self-control to stay away from you.
it did not help that you were innocent; your naive, malleable mind his for corrupting. and that was a temptation too enticing to reject.
you skipped into the kitchen where he was leaning on the kitchen island, scrolling through the emails on his phone. you sauntered in with a tiny plaid skirt and a pink bikini top. he kept his gaze strictly on your pretty face. you wrapped your arms around his waist, face resting on his back, breasts against his broad beefy back.
“morning daddy!” your voice was cheery, not aware of the effect that word coming from your pretty lips had on his sanity.
“hi, bunny! how are you.” he could not help but smile because of you. light of his life. he lived around you and survived in your orbit. he did his best to restrain himself, but alone, in the shower, he came with your name on his lips.
“let’s go for a swim daddy!” you ended the embrace to jump slightly in excitement.
he could imagine your tits jiggling slightly from your movements.
he closed his eyes and clenched his jaw, fighting his brain for his thoughts to not stray to inappropriate thoughts of his stepdaughter.
“alright, princess, let’s go for a swim.” he turned around and squeezed your chin.
the sky was cloudy, sun rays slipping through gaps between clouds. you swam like an athlete, strokes clean and smooth, your legs barely making waves.
swimming with you consisted of him sitting in the shade reading a boring book about stocks while his stepdaughter splashed around in a see-through tiny pink bikini.
it was late when you got out of the pool, nipples pebbled from the change in temperature from warm pool water to cool afternoon summer breeze.
he wanted to suck your nipples.
“daddy!” you whined. “i’m hungry!” your lips in a pout you sauntered over to him, sitting sideways on his lap, not caring if you got him wet. his arms went instinctively around your waist. drawing circles in your lower tummy.
you sighed in pleasure. “ ‘s good daddy!” you clenched your thighs at the foreign sensation of ache when you were close to him, or when he made sounds in the night when he thought you were asleep. crying your name out. the apex of your thighs would ache, and drench your panties, and you would hump your huge teddy bear silly to his moans. trying to keep quiet so daddy would not know you were doing something naughty. but you would never find that satisfaction your private parts craved.
you moaned softly and your hips jerked gently at the memory of last night, how good your teddy felt against your pussy.
you wanted his hand lower, but before you could ask for daddy to make the ache go away, he stood up and plopped you on your feet.
“baby girl, how about you go get changed into dry clothes while i make us some dinner.”
“italian, daddy?!”
“whatever you want bunny.”
you grinned and skipped to your room to change, unaware of his hungry gaze on your ass.
you decided to wear a pink sundress, sans panties and a bra. you felt like being naughty.
you skipped down the stairs, following after the scent of his delicious cooking.
he was wearing an apron and he looked so hot and domestic. you jumped into the kitchen counter, thighs squeezed together.
he turned and smiled before continuing with dinner, once it seemed he was finishing up, you rushed to set the table.
dinner was ready, and you smiled at him as he slid a chair out for you.
he asked you about the book you were reading and made idle chat. something was off. you yearned to fix it.
“daddy! let's watch a movie!”
a lightbulb went off in henry’s head, and his smile was nothing short of conspiring.
“alright bunny, but i’ll choose.”
you ended up straddling him on the expensive leather couch. not daring to look at the huge tv, the loud sound system already scaring you silly with the sounds of the horror flick he chose.
“daddy! i’m scared.” you had said. he simply smiled at you and patted his lap.
you knew you could just ask him to turn it off but you loved the closeness.
your bare cunt against his crotch.
“princess? are you not wearing any underwear?” his voice was gruff and dangerous, grip tight on the flesh of your hips.
“no daddy.”
your hips jerked at the tenor of his voice, and you let out a mewl at the friction against your swollen clit.
henry stood up abruptly, placing you on the floor, and turning the tv off.
“i think it is time to go to sleep y/n”
he called you by your name. you whimpered. daddy was mad.
you hurriedly turned around and bolted to your room.
your shower was quick, not even bothering to slide a hand into your pussy because even though you were never satisfied, it ached and hurt so deliciously, but you were too anxious to play with yourself.
daddy was mad at you.
you put on one of his huge shirts you, had in your closet and some thin cotton panties and curled up against your teddy bear, crying with the aftershock of the scary movie and henry’s wrath. he called you by your name. he never called you by your name. it was always princess, bunny, or baby girl.
you cried harder, trying to muffle the sounds of your weeping.
you heard a knock at your door and your body tensed.
henry did not wait for an answer before barging in.
“bunny…”
“daddy!” you cried harder at the softness of his voice.
he sat at the edge of your bed.
“bunny, why do you cry?” his fingers rested on your bare thigh.
“because you're mad at me. and because i am scared because of the movie. and i can’t go to your room because you are mad at me.”
“baby, come on.” he slid one hand under your legs and the other under your upper back, holding you to him and carrying you bridal style to his cozy room.
he laid down with you, turning you around and facing you, both of you on your sides.
“i could never be mad at you bunny. i was mad at myself.” his hands brushed your hair, lulling you.
“why daddy?” your voice was heavy with sleep and your eyes closed.
“because when i felt your bare cunt i had such dirty thoughts about you.”
you were barely awake then. but your subconscious heard.
— ׂׂૢ་༘࿐
henry could not sleep. throughout the night, your leg had wrapped around his waist, opening you up for his dick to harden. you pressed your pussy into his bulge and moaned softly. still asleep.
a mumbled “daddy, so good…” left your sleepy puffy lips. it broke a dam and he lost the hold he had on himself.
he pressed against your pussy and moaned.
you had always been a heavy sleeper. so he softly turned you around so you laid on your back. he discarded his clothes laid on top of you placing his forearms next to your head, your thighs open to fit his dick, he slid his dick through the cotton-covered outline of your cunt and groaned in pleasure.
his dick was heavy with need. having been celibate since he got full responsibility of you.
you moaned in your sleep. and he was past caring if you woke up to your daddy dry-humping you desperately like a savage.
your hips bucked to meet him and he was so close so fast. he kissed your neck and pumped faster, pressure building up in his lower back, his dick aching and pulsating with satisfaction as he let go and came all over your panties.
he stood up and put on his boxers, taking your soiled panties off. sated for the next hours or so.
he laid on his back and pulled you to him. on top of him.
— ׂׂૢ་༘࿐
you woke up with an agonizing aching pounding in your pussy.
you were half awake when you started humping the warm hardness beneath you, searching for any type of relief.
the ache was so bad you roused fully.
your eyes met henry’s and you almost froze, you wanted to freeze but your body could not stop chasing pleasure.
plus the hardness you were rubbing your clit on was his stiff dick.
“daddy! i’m sorry! i can’t stop! it feels too good!” tears streamed down your eyes as you rocked your hips.
henry just smiled, eyelids heavy and pupils dilated with pleasure.
“it’s only fair bunny.”
you could only manage a dumb “huh?”
“well since i humped you like an animal, i humped you while you were asleep until i came.”
your pussy lips split open from his boxer-covered cock, cunt weeping at his confession you bucked your hips with fervour. chasing that delicious build-up you had not been able to achieve on your own. you threw your head back in pleasure, planting your hands on his bulging pecs to amplify your pleasure.
he gripped your hips and heightened the movements.
“that’s it, princess, come for me.”
the pressure in your pounding core burst in a crescendo of pleasure and delicious chills making your toes curl, and thighs tremble.
you slumped against him, hips still jerking slightly from the aftershock of your orgasm.
“s good daddy!” you murmured, sated.
“oh, princess i’m just getting started. you just got yourself all nice and wet and ready for my dick. now lay down, let daddy fuck you stupid.”
henry was gentle at first, making sure to gently pop your cherry. after you were writhing with more pleasure than pain he let himself go. pounding into you until your body spasmed with delight at being fucked by your daddy.
you clenched hard. your pussy gushing and pulsating, making his thrusts sloppy and messy.
his strong, muscular, beefy body enhancing the pace and strength of his thrusts. your legs wrapped around his waist and your arms around his neck. your hips canting to meet his thrusts as he rutted into you.
you came first, screaming “daddy~” and cunt squeezing his dick, pushing him over the edge, filling you to the brim with his cum.
“my beautiful step-daughter. you look so beautiful all fucked out and blissed out by your daddy’s cock. naughty girl. my naughty girl.” his beefy arms held you close to him, and they were never letting you go now that he had you.
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tenkomura · 8 months
Text
So Nice (Mamaguro x F!Reader x Toji Fushiguro)
Words: 3k // mdni
Mamaguro = Mamagumi (to me they are the same person and mamaguro just sounds better)
Tw: dark content: noncon/dubcon, somno (noncon), drunk reader gets taken advantage of, grooming, power imbalance, predatory behavior, perv!mamaguro, toji is enabling and enjoying, age gap, petnames, mommy/daddy kink, reader is clueless, panty stealing, obsession with reader implied, mastrubation, oral (f->f), toji is professional shoe remover, mind games, probably will have a part 2 I have more thoughts
Teaser: "You're just so sweet, (Y/N)-chan," she sighs and slips your panties on. They hardly fit over her plump, perfect ass.
don't perceive me
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Living with the Fushiguros is fine. You hate it. But it's nothing they do. You feel bad about it because they don't want you to pay rent and this whole arrangement is just way too nice. That is what you hate about it. You curse Megumi for still when you have your daily phone calls.
"How's it going?" He asks. "Are my parents nice?"
"I still hate you." You say.
Megumi moved for college while you got into a school nearby which meant you would just keep living at home. It just made so much sense to Megumi that you moved into his old room given your situation at home.
They made the decision for you. You couldn't say no. Megumi asked his parents, they agreed, they moved all his stuff and then told you and gave you the keys as they broke the news, getting ready to take you to ikea to get furniture for you. How could you say no?!
Megumi and you have been friends for a very long time and perhaps you can argue that his parents raised you more than your own. You practically lived at theirs already. But still. It felt weird. Not giving them anything back.
You tried to do all the chores and get groceries as often as possible. Your job didn't pay much but you could give them a little. It would make you feel better.
The Fushiguros are a fancy couple. Their apartment is fancy. In a modern high-rise building on two stories. You know they are rich and that the money they spend on you probably is pennies to them but you just wish you could offer something back.
》》》》
It is late when Ms. and Mr. Fushiguro come home from their date.
"She's probably scrubbed the whole apartment," she laughs softly. "She's so tense… she shouldn't be… she knows us."
"It's kind of adorable," Toji opens the door for his wife. "And we don't have to fight about who does the chores."
"Funny," she looks back at him and her coat slips off her shoulders. Toji catches it right before it hits the ground and hangs it up. He gets on his knees and undoes the straps of her heels then takes them off for her, discarding them in the shoe rag nearby.
Mamaguro pats her husband's head like he's been a good puppy then walks into the open kitchen/living room space. "(Y/N)-chan, we brought you– ah," she smiles, seeing you passed out on the couch. "Adorable indeed."
She puts the food in the fridge and pours two glasses of water for herself and Toji, sitting on the counter.
"Baby, say, you think she's hot?"
Toji chokes on his water, looking at his wife with lowered eyebrows to grasp her intention. "She's not ugly." That seems reasonable to say.
"Well, I think she's so hot."
Toji puts his glass down and grins. "No, no, darling, you're not thinking about fucking your son's best friend who is living with us."
"I am surprised you aren't," she kisses the corner of his lips then walks to the couch.
"What are you doing?" Toji whispers and follows.
"I just want to see her." Mamaguro kneels before your sleeping form. It's not like she's not already seen you in vulnerable situations. You should fully close the door when you change, that's hardly her fault. But she could never get the full view. You are wearing your sleeping shorts and a loose t-shirt with it that has already hiked up to your belly button. Mamaguro slowly pushes the hem of the shirt up higher until your breasts spill out.
"Would you look at that," she smirks, seeing your pierced nipples. Your tits are so beautiful, she can hardly hold back. She wants to devour you, always has. You'd look so good all fucked out for her.
"This is so fucked up, mama," Toji says but he's grinning, eyes fixed on your sleeping form and the way your breasts rise and fall with each of your sound breaths.
"Come here," Mamaguro takes his hand and pulls him to her side, undoing his dress pants. His large palm strokes through her dark hair.
"She will wake up."
"She won't. And you want to," she grins up at him, freeing his very much erect cock from Toji's briefs.
"Heh," Toji licks his lips. Who could blame him? His wife is being a menace.
Mamaguro spits on his cock then uses her hands to twist Toji's length, up and down, thumb pressing into his sensitive slit ever so often. She can get him to orgasm fast, knows his body as good as her own after years of marriage and love. Their fire never died.
"Shh," she hushes when Toji is getting just a little too loud. "You don't wanna wake our precious darling."
Toji bites his lip, dazed eyes meeting his wife's beautiful, crazy, blue ones. He looks at your pierced tits again, how you're sleeping there all innocently, exposed so lewdly to them without your knowledge.
"Yes," Mamaguro husks, making her husband ejaculate on your sweet, firm breasts. "So perfect, look."
Toji runs a hand over his sweaty forehead, needing a moment to recover. It does look perfect and Mamaguro's heart-shaped eyes don't help at all. She's so into this. She's crazy. She pulls your shirt down again, his semen staining the light blue. She can't wait for you to wake up and wonder what you spilled on yourself. She is so wet.
"Cmere," he hooks an arm around her and throws her on his shoulder. "You're crazy, mama."
》》》》
Mmaguro had no lewd intentions at all. She swears. She wanted to ask you what you want for dinner… that's all. She opens the door, she never knocks, just a gap and stops instantly hearing the soft hum of what undeniably is a vibrator. Your TV covers the noise but only as long as you're behind the closed door.
Your grey panties have a visible stain, your legs spread wide as you rub the vibrator up and down your folds.
Her hand slips into her own underwear, toying with her swelling clit as she watches the damp spot on your cute undies grow more prominent.
What if she'd walk in now and just help you out? She can't see your face from this angle but she imagines it. Your brows tugged together, blushing, lips parted. She needs you.
"Oh… hmmmm," you moan softly and your legs tremble. Mamaguro lets out a soft sigh herself but this beautiful display isn't enough to make her cum.
Later that day she comes in to collect your dirty laundry. In the privacy of the laundry room she rummage through it until she finds those same grey panties.
"Jackpot," she smiles, stuffing them in the back pocket of her jeans and getting the laundry started. She then disappears in the bedroom, taking off her clothes and laying down in the center of the bed.
She starts feeling her busty chest, pinching and tugging, then her hands dip into her soaking folds, rubbing her clit. Mamaguro smells your dirty underwear, licks at it hoping to still taste your cum. She moans.
"You're just so sweet, (Y/N)-chan," she sighs and slips your panties on. They hardly fit over her plump, perfect ass.
She rubs her swollen cunt through the fabric, rubbing whatever of your essence she can get into herself until she cums.
"My wife… is a fucking panty thief," Toji grins, standing before the bed. Mamaguro was so horny she didn't even notice.
He grabs her ankle and pulls her to the edge of the bed, pushing your ruined panties aside with one finger before entering his wife's soaking cunt. He fucks her for hours and your panties never come off.
》》》》
"You two don't get into trouble," Toji says and kisses his wife. You understand he has to go on some business trip of sorts and then visits his friend and Megumi on the way back.
"Of course not," she smiles. "You don't make any trouble."
He blows in her face and hugs her again. You want what they have. You feel so bad for watching them constantly, their small displays of devotion. You don't want them to think you're a creep.
"Bye, (Y/N)!"
"Bye, Mr. Fushiguro!" You call and wave. The door closes and Mamaguro smiles at you.
"So now that it's just us girls, what should we do?"
Oh, and she has fun planned.
The next day you come downstairs in the late morning to grab breakfast. You and Mamaguro watched her favorite romcoms until super late in the night. She fell asleep at some point, her head fell into your lap. At first you didn't know what to do but then you just gently ran your fingers through her raven hair and let her sleep. She is the most beautiful woman you know and you didn't want to wake her when she was so peaceful. You fell asleep at some point as well and you don't know how exactly but you ended up waking up in her arms, pressed flushed to her. You then decided to head to bed. The couch isn't comfortable to spend the night on after all.
"Good morning," you call. There's a bit of panic in you. What if it is awkward now? You basically cuddled last night. But it wasn't awkward at night so why would it be now.
"Morning, (Y/N)-chan," she walks around the kitchen counter and you swallow. She's just wearing a sheer rope and her underwear. But this is her apartment, if she wanted to be naked that would be fine with you. And you're both girls. You can be comfortable like that with each other… it's normal.
"Did you sleep well, Ms. Fushiguro?"
"Not really. When you sleep next to someone every night and then they are gone, you notice it."
"That makes sense," you sit down. "Can I do anything for you?"
"I thought we go shopping today."
You should have said no. Your guilt only deepens with every thing she buys you. And she doesn't stop. She just does no matter what you say. So many expensive clothes.
"Just try it on, it will look so good!"
And then you do and when you walk out of the changing room she smiles softly. "We are taking that."
"Ms. Fushiguro, I really don't feel comfortable with you buying so much for me. I could never pay you back," you finally say, standing there in some designer store with a cute dress on your body that could buy food for months.
She gets up from her seat and walks toward you, running her knuckles softly over your cheek. You smell her saffron perfume. It smells lavish, expensive and sexy. Megumi really has her eyes, like a copy of it. The soft smile wrinkles around her eyes are so cute.
"Darling, let me spoil you, kay? I'd rather spent my money on a cute thing like you than anything else," she says, no, it's a soft whisper. She turns away and you swallow hard. Your blood is boiling, your breath is shortened.
Mamaguro grins to herself. "We can work something out if you feel like you must pay me back."
"Okay!" You say quickly, voice faint. At this point you'd do anything.
"We will take that and the shoes!" She tells the sales associate.
"Thank you," you say, digging your nails into your palm. The dress is perfectly sitting on your body. You do want it.
Later that night as you clean up the kitchen together you take all your courage and finally ask. You are sure she just said it to ease your mind, that you could pay her back because you both know you never could. Not with money anyway. If she wants you to scrub the grout until it shines again… you will.
"So… how can I repay you?" You ask.
"Sleep in my bed tonight. So I won't be so terribly lonely."
"Okay," you say quietly. You will definitely not tell Megumi about this.
Night rolls by and you should really not be this nervous. It's just sharing a bed. She said she sleeps better when someone is next to her. That someone is usually Toji of course but a body is a body.
You crawl in and turn your back to her, thinking it would be the most respectful thing to do. "Goodnight, Ms. Fushiguro."
"Goodnight, honey," she hums and turns off the lights. The bed shifts and she slips under the covers as well. You close your eyes after a moment but then her hand slips around your waist, making you the little spoon.
"Is that okay?" She whispers. Her fingers move a little under your shirt to feel your skin. "Can I do that?"
"Y-yes." You can't say no and there's no reason to. You're just… comforting her… right?
Mamaguro waits until she is absolutely certain you are sleeping. It takes so much self control. She is breathless, pressing her thighs together to ease the throbbing. She needs you. Her hands roam your sleeping body with the utmost care, pinching your nipples gently, feeling your curves. She is addicted. Her fingers gently dip into your panties, feeling the neatly kept pubes.
What if she would just wake you up, her face buried in your sweet cunt? What would you do? She wants to bite into your neck but she knows she can't. She rolls on her side of the bed and spreads her legs, gliding a finger through her wet folds.
Mamaguro takes care of herself, never taking her eyes off you. Then she takes her position next to you again, softly running her cum soaked fingers over your lips, sharing it with you. "Goodnight, honey."
》》》》
You close the door and sink to the ground instantly.
It was your second college party. It was so much fun. But you didn't know your limit. Not at all. You have never been so drunk. The Fushiguros will find you passed out right next to their shoe rag in the morning, probably in your own vomit. You feel like vomiting. No. No. Don't think about it. Just don't.
You hear a little chuckle and look up. Like you have to really look up because Mr. Fushiguro is tall. Like really tall.
"We've all been there, kiddo," he laughs softly.
"Cmon," he grabs your ankle and lifts your foot up, making you tumble back and your ass lifts up.
You try so hard to press your thighs together but you are pretty sure your whole butt is exposed to him anyway. At least you are wearing cute underwear. He takes your platform heels off then throws you over his shoulder.
"Do I weigh anything to you at all?" You giggle.
"No," he says.
"I need to throw up," you say.
"I know."
"Mama," he calls and lets you down in the master bathroom, sitting you on the edge of the tub.
Ms. Fushiguro giggles and hugs your face, "did you have fun, honey?"
You nod and smile.
"How'd you even get home like this?" Toji asks.
"Dunno," you slur.
"Next time just call," he chuckles.
"Cmon," Mamaguro pulls at the straps of your dress. "We don't want to ruin your cute dress."
"Heh."
You protest a little but you really can't. At least you're wearing cute underwear.
Ms. Fushiguro holds your hair back as you throw up eventually, hushing you softly, stroking down your spine and up again to comfort you. Once you're done she makes you drink some water and then helps you brush your teeth.
"You're so nice to me," you whisper, half asleep.
She helps you walk and you want to leave to go to your room but instead she stirs you toward the bed. "You should stay here. We should keep an eye on you."
"Hmmh, am fine."
"It's no bother."
Toji takes your upper arm and pulls you onto the bed and against his chest. Ms. Fushiguro cuddles up to your other side. You don't know if you imagine it. You must be. All the alcohol. Her hands roaming your body, Mr. Fushiguro is playing with your breasts. You must be imagining it. You must be.
"Told you they feel so good," she says smiling at her husband.
"Didn't doubt it." He twists your pierced nipples until they hurt.
You jump a little when he kisses your neck, nibbling softly at your delicate skin. Mamaguro tugs at your panties. The room is spinning violently.
"W-what–"
"I'm just being nice, honey," she cooes. "You said I am so nice."
You feel the lacy fabric scratch your thighs and you reach down to hold onto them. Mr. Fushiguro takes your hand however and prevents it. "Shh, mama's just being nice to you," he says into your ear, holding you close to his body.
"Look at how pretty your pussy is, (Y/N)," Ms. Fushiguro says with the biggest smile on her face.
She ghosts her finger over your clit and you press your thighs together, you try to… she's holding them open.
"Shh, just relax. Mommy will make you feel so good."
You gasp feeling her kiss your vulva, kiss your clit and flick her tongue at your entrance. You are too intoxicated to do anything and soon you find yourself going limb. Mr. Fushiguro kisses you, swallowing your cute whimpers and moans as his wife eats your pussy like it's life sustaining. His fingers are tangled in her hair.
Mamaguro has waited so long. She is in a complete haze, working her tongue on you so skilled and savory. Her eyes are completely black, little hearts flashing in them as she looks up at your perfect body, seeing you quiver in her husband's grip. She wants more. She wants so much more. But this is good for now.
"Cum for me, baby," she cooes. "Cum for mommy and daddy."
And like a trained little puppy your body complies, arching and trembling on her tongue. She links all your juice up, she could live off it. Then comes up and kisses her husband first then you. These kisses are sloppy and messy with so much spit they get you drunk all over again.
"Such a good girl. Now go to sleep, precious. This was such a nicr dream, wasn't it?"
You don't know why you would have such a dream. It has to be a dream because you wake up in your bed, dressed in your party dress. It just can't be. They would never.
"I'll never drink again."
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charlottecutepie · 1 month
Text
˚⋆𐙚。⋆ Married!William Afton x fem!reader headcanons
tags: nsfw, smut, cheating, dry humping, drunk!reader, corruption, cunnilingus, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, car sex, doggy style, riding, hand job, age difference, pet names, lil bit of dirty talk?, small daddy kink, kind of manipulator William
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Married!William, who has admired you for a very long time. Ever since you came into his life, his mind has been clouded by you. At first you were nothing more but a good friend of his wife, then you became like her second daughter. Clara doted on you, trusted you her kids and even went to the beauty salon with you on weekends.
Married!William, who often gave his wife money for shopping, actually dreamed of giving all those dollars to you. Every time Clara came home with a bunch of bags of new clothes, he was looking forward to seeing what you bought for yourself.
Married!William, who knew that you were younger than his wife. Despite the similarity of your character, your common hobbies and interests, you were very different from Clara in many ways.
Married!William, who was more than glad to see you in his house. Since you often looked after his kids as Clara asked you to. When William was working at home, he'd go downstairs to the kitchen and always pass by the living room where you were playing with Evan and Elizabeth. William would stop, leaning against the wall, holding a mug of his favourite coffee in his hands and look at you, admire you, crave you.
Married!William, who thought you were such a good girl. So kind, always ready to help, so merciful. You easily managed to find common ground with his children, even with Michael. One day, when Clara came home from work very late, and kids had been sleeping in their beds for a long time thanks to you, she couldn't help but hug you and thank you for your care. William chuckled as he noticed how embarrassed you were by his wife's words. Well, he'll definitely take note of it, you like being praised.
Married!William, who loves watching you cook together with his wife. You don't have much baking experience, so your cute face was confused in the process. The way you always asked if you were doing right by adding a certain ingredient to chocolate bread. William was even a little lost, in his head your question “am I doing right” would suit perfectly when your cute hands would be wrapped around his cock.
Married!William, who noticed how perfect his wife's cute little hair clip looked on you, only more enhancing your charm. When did Clara give it to you?
Married!William who's been finding any opportunity to be close to you, touching you when nobody's looking.
Married!William, who was pleasantly surprised to learn that you're not so innocent. One such occasion was a birthday party hosted by his wife at their house, where William caught your eyes on him, studying him, despite the crowd of people surrounding you.
Married!William, who noticed your lips slightly parted as you exhaled a contented sigh. “You're looking awfully handsome right now.” you mumbled softly to him when he approached you as everyone were busy chatting and laughing, their focus shifting away from the two of you.
Married!William, who saw that you were drunk and decided to take advantage of it. You obviously overdid it with alcohol as your vision blurry and your head spin like crazy. It was also very stuffy and hot, or maybe it was just because of William, you didn't knew.
“You need to freshen up, little one.” he offered, carefully taking the glass from your hand. You looked at him questioningly for a moment before you burst out laughing, realizing how tipsy you really were. Before you knew it, he had steered you towards a nearby bathroom, all empty and quiet enough for you two.
Married!William, who watched you from behind, his gaze riveted on the curves of your body, shimmering in the light of the lamps in the bathroom. As soon as the water hit your face, he stepped closer until his chest pressed against your back. “I could fuck you right here.” he whispered, looking at your reflection in the mirror. When you snuggled up to him, William started grinding against you sensually. His bulge pressed harder against your ass when his hands roamed over your body. “Do you want this, doll? Tell me you do.”
Married!William who got you all wet and needy for his cock as he humped against you, holding your jaw so your eyes would never leave mirror reflection. You couldn't help but sink back against him, silently begging for more, your drunk mind couldn't process situation. And William loved every minute of this, finally he got you.
Married!William who came hard in his pants from rubbing himself against you through clothes. His groans in your ear and his hand groping your clothed breasts. He holds you tighly while your drunk head spins and you nearly fall from how hard he ruts his hips into you.
Married!William who fucked you the next day while no one was home. Using your hangover and that you barely remember anything from party night as he pounds you on sofa. You on all fours with your butt up, your moans and gasps filling the empty house as William breathes and groans behind you, thrusting into your little cunt.
Married!William, who stopped the car near the store as his wife went out to “buy something really quick”, leaving you alone with her husband. The moment she disappeared through the door of the store, he decided to take the lead. “She has left us alone for a little while, let's make use of it.” you looked at him hesitantly and he laughed. “C'mon, pretty girl. Don't wanna miss out on this perfect opportunity, do we?”
Married!William, who eats you out on their doubled with Clara bed while she's away. “Such a pretty little cunt,” he groans, using his long rough fingers to spread your delicate folds. Next second his face is stuffed in your pussy and he gently sucks and swirls circles on your sensitive clit. “mhmhm. . .” pretty dangerous situation, considering that his wife should be coming home soon, but oh, he doesn’t care.
Married!William, who tells you that you're many times better than his wife, in absolutely everything, only with you all his dreams and fantasies come true. “My marriage has been a sham for so long. . . with her all I get is indifference while i'm stuck pretending everything is fine just for appearances.” there's a shadow of bitter resentment and contempt on his face, he has you sitting on his lap as his fingers are tucking your hair behind your ear. “You're everything my wife would never be.” and you think a lot about his words.
Married!William, who makes sure that his wife and children are asleep, everyone in their beds, snoring, and Clara didn't even feel William get out of their bed. She was too tired at work to wake up at such noises. He quietly gets dressed and grabs the car keys. He's going to spend the night in your place.
Married!William, who comes to your doorstep with flowers, your favourite ones, and you can't help but laugh shyly when you let him in. God, this man knows a lot about you. Of course, he heard interesting stuff about you from his wife, she even gossiped to him about your exes. William was more than damn glad to know that he's the first man with whom you have such a big age difference, and should he mention he loves this dynamic?
Married!William, who sees that you have prepared for your “little date”, even put on beautiful lace underwear in a delicate lavender colour. Oh fucking god, when was the last time he saw a woman that sexy?
Married!William, who have the most sensual, but at the same time animalistic sex with you, who fucks you like rabbit in all poses and angles. The way you're both hungry for each other. “i can't, i can't,” he groans, his dick is getting hard again after he just fucked you in missionary. “i need to be inside you again, pretty girl, have you cum on my cock again.” as he has you lying wearily on your side from just being fucked, but he doesn't have enough and settles in from behind, rubbing his cock against your throbbing hole. And despite how tired and sleepy you're feeling, you still let him use you and fuck you the way he wants, and you'd damn lie if you'd say you aren't loving every second of it.
Married!William who turned you into a little crying mess. He tears off orgasm after orgasm from you, your eyes crossed, your throat hurts from loud whines and moans, your voice breaks, your sopping cunt is ruined and filled with his seed, however he doesn't plan to stop. “Sensitive girl. . . squeezing me so tight, gonna make me cum again soon, ughh” he murmurs into your lips.
Married!William, who destroyed you and your mind, corrupted you and forced you to play completely by his rules. Yeah, he craved you, but now he's made you crave him back. You couldn't live a day without thoughts about him, he literally forced you to need his touch, words of praise and his cock. He turned you into his desperate girl who always needed to have her pussy well fucked.
Married!William, who cutely talked to his wife as if nothing had happened, sweetly asking her about her work and girl friends, while you clearly saw the subtle indifference in his eyes. When she turned her back on him, continuing to answer questions and talk about her day, William winked at you. Your heart stopped beating. You were ready to howl and cry just to have him touch you, your body needs him, and there's nothing you can do about it.
Married!William, whose wife left into another room for a phone talk and you literally jump on him, kiss him on the lips and don't give a fuck about Clara at all. William doesn't even push you away, but sits on the couch and revels in you, wraps one arm around you and squeezes your ass with the other. In response you groan in his mouth, and Clara can hear it just perfectly, so her voice from other room asks: “hey, Y/n, did you say something?”
Married!William, whose wife doesn't notice your kisses and touches while she's literally next to you, you really must except for William's hand to squeeze your inner thigh or his fingers to rub you through your panties, if Clara doesn't see and busy with something. But you're walking on thin ice and no one knows what'll happen if you break it.
Married!William who lets you touch his cock through his clothes while Clara has her back to you. You perfectly see the huge bulge in his pants and bite your lips in anticipation, already imagining how well it would fill you, as if perfectly sculptured for your cunt. And finally you release his cock from his pants and frantically jerk him off, feeling how tense and madly hard he is. William takes a deep breath and smiles at you, bucks his hips a little and thrusts into your hand. And all this while Clara is very close and can turn to you at any moment, that's risky, but fuck it.
Married!William, who lets you ride him while you're both at the backseat of his car, him talking to his wife on the phone, and you can barely contain your moans cuz he doesn't stop fucking you. You bounce on his cock and pray that it never ends, because no one has ever railed you so well. Your pussy so wet and dripping that it creates absolutely dirty slapping sounds, but William doesn't seem to give a fuck bout it all as he stares at you through his fogged up glasses while blowing kisses to his wife on his phone.
Married!William who's cock twitches inside you as you sob “daddy” in your angelic whiny voice. You immediately reach for a tender kiss as he barely has time to hang up, you move your hips, trying to drive his cock deeper, your walls flutter around his shaft and you whisper “cum inside me, please, please, please” and William loses it, throws the phone far away and grabs you by the waist, fucking you dumb on his dick. He grits his teeth and his jaw clenched as he's being swallowed by warmth and wetness of your cunt.
Married!William, who can't help but groans loudly and finishes inside you, giving you what you want. You cum around his cock, rolling your hips in slow motion, your pussy spasming around him. You press your whole body against him and kiss his neck, leaving small bites and beautiful hickeys as you both dissolve into pleasure.
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Mr. (Not so) Perfectly Fine
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AN: Not sure where this came from, but here we are. Maybe one day I'll write Josh in a non-toxic way lol. Also tagging Kai @lovelyhan because it's the law. I joked about writing a series of fics based on Taylor Swift songs. This fic isn't part of that idea. I just thought this title felt fitting (it's based off of a Taylor Swift song for anyone unaware).
Synopsis: Falling in love with Joshua was easy. It came to you easier than breathing. It's no wonder, then, that when he offers you a fraction of his affection after shattering your heart months ago, that you would grasp for it. Regardless of the consequences.
General tags and warnings: Joshua Hong x Fem! Reader, not super relevant to the plot but, this is a Non-Idol AU, exes to exes with benefits, elements of angst, Josh is emotionally constipated, Soonyoung and Seungkwan featuring as supportive but, tired friends, discussions around Reader having low self-esteem and being self-loathing at times, discussions around an unhealthy relationship and returning to it, alcohol and alcohol consumption, Seokmin featuring as a genuinely good guy who probably deserves better and discussions around jealousy and possessiveness on Josh's end.
Smut tags: mentions of throatfucking, mentions of piv sex with a condom (I know who am I?), mentions of a Daddy kink, it's implied that Josh is pretty self-centered (generally but, sexually more specifically) but, that does get remedied later, nipple play (f. receiving), Reader sucks on Josh's fingers, praise (f. receiving), implications of Reader being a bit of a masochist, Reader sits on Josh's face, overstimulation (f. receiving), pet names, dirty talk, begging, piv sex without a condom, marking (f. receiving), biting (f. receiving) and creampie.
Word count: 8514 (...I don't want to talk about it.)
I will block you if you are a minor and/or have no easily visible indication of your age on your blog if you interact with me in any way.
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The first time you found yourself at Joshua's doorstep was an innocuous Thursday evening. The sun had begun its descent on the horizon when you began the familiar route to his apartment building. You're not entirely sure what possessed you to knock on his front door, or what had possessed you to drive there to begin with. However, when he swung his door open, dressed in nothing but, a simple black shirt that clung a little too tightly to his broad chest and some grey sweats. Surprise colouring his handsome face, you knew it was too late to back away now.
To your shock, however, Josh had let you in without much question. Stepping aside wordlessly, you took the very obvious invitation. The sight of his living room was familiar in a way that churned the pit of your stomach. You weren't going to fall apart in his living room like the way you had when he broke up with you. You wouldn't allow yourself to. Wasn't it pathetic enough that you'd come grovelling back to him without much of a reason as to why? That you're likely about to have the most uncomfortable conversation that you've had in your entire life?
You're not sure what you'd expected from Joshua. He joined you on his couch, always too white for your liking but, didn't say anything. You weren't sure if he'd been waiting for you to explain why you're at his place after close to four months of next to zero contact.
Idiot. Of course he was.
"I," you start but, the words never seemed to find you. You focused on the pictures that decorated his wall. Choosing to look at anywhere that wasn't him at the risk of losing your already fickle train of thought. Pictures of him in suits with different friends and business partners. His work smile working overtime in all of them as he'd been showered with endless awards and promotions.
His work had always been the love of his life.
"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to," were the first words he'd uttered to you in months. That had caused you to whip your head to face him. Reading Joshua was a skill you had never been able to master.
Master? You doubt you'd even be considered an amateur at it after a year of being with him.
His face betrayed little but, a barely there glimmer of understanding bled through that even you managed to catch. Understanding is an emotion you wouldn't typically associate with the someone like him. However, it flickers across his too handsome face nonetheless.
Perhaps you should've consulted an exorcist because before you know it, you're not sure what caused you to kiss him. You two have barely spoken, and there you were, gripping his shirt like a lifeline and kissing him on his stupid couch as the figures in his photographs act as spectators. You were going to apologise. You were going to erase him for good from your brain and dig a hole for yourself to crawl into.
But, then he'd kissed you back. His kiss, much like him, wasn't all passion and desperation. It was slow. Methodical. His soft lips refamiliarising themselves with your mouth once more gradually. As if he had all of the time in the world. Testing to see if this would be worth it. If you would be worth it.
Whatever he had been looking for during his exploration, he seemingly found because before you knew it, you found yourself amidst the sheets of his bed. Cool, navy blue sheets acting as a balm to your far too hot skin while his large hands mapped the expanse of your body. His heavy cock bruised the back of your throat before you found yourself arched for him with your face in one of his soft pillows and his long fingers in your hair. After months of no sex, specifically no sex with him, it took you a few long moments to adjust to the sting he provided.
From then, it was bliss.
His pillow muffling your whimpers and moans. Cries of 'Joshua' and 'Josh' and 'Daddy' were partially swallowed by the soft material. Your fingernails clawed at his sheets while he found relief in your body. His hips stuttered into you and filling the condom he had hurriedly put on, especially when the last title had hit his ears.
The two of you dressed in silence. The ruffling of your clothing and the sounds of the city all that you had to comfort you. When you stood on unsteady legs to leave, he hadn't walked you out. Not that you expected him to but, that didn't stop the sting from developing behind your eyes and your throat from growing tight.
Bliss was so, so easy to come back to. And come back, you did. You and Joshua still hadn't spoken all that much. Not putting any labels on... whatever tentative understanding the two of you had. You simply show up to his apartment, and he knows what you're here for. If you can't have him the way you want to, you'll have to settle for the way he needs you.
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Two weeks.
Two weeks is the longest time you've gone without knocking on Joshua's front door. You can't help the guilt that twists up inside you and shreds your insides. However, you know rationally that you have nothing to feel guilty about. Joshua isn't your boyfriend anymore. He hasn't been for six months now. The two of you simply find solace in each other's bodies. It has just been easier with him than expending your time and energy on trying to meet anyone. Especially with how little energy and time you have as it with work all but, drowning you.
However, as Seungkwan has tried to sear into your brain, this isn't exactly healthy. Letting yourself fall into his bed and come apart underneath him for the past three months is likely in your top five unwisest decisions you've made in adulthood.
But god, it's just so easy.
"You know you deserve better," Seungkwan stresses to you for the likely millionth time. His typically kind face marred with a frown that does not suit him in the slightest. His glass of wine left completely untouched on your coffee table with his arms cross over his chest. Soonyoung nods, taking a sip of his own wine before speaking, "He's a dick. He's pretty much been using you since the two of you started dating."
"That's not true," you protest, your wine sloshing dangerous before you simmer down a little. "Joshua has his....issues but, I don't think it's fair to say all he does is use me. I mean, I'm the one who showed up to his door after us being broken up," you argue, "If anything this is a mutual using of each other."
"Except you're in love with him," Seungkwan deadpans. Soonyoung once again nods in agreement. Traitor.
"I'm not in love-"
You promptly stop talking when both men shoot you looks. Your face warms and you hide in your glass of wine. The liquid pleasantly heating your veins and acting as a phenomenal distraction from the gazes of your friends that are far, far too piercing.
"We're just here because we're worried," Soonyoung says softly and you can't bare to look into his eyes right now. You're too scared to see what you'll find in them. You're not sure what's worse. The pity or the frustration from the two of them.
"If it makes you two feel any better, I haven't gone to him in two weeks," you respond weakly. Despising the knot that builds in your throat and the tears that burn your eyes. You feel no better than when you were in university crying to them about shitty hookups and even shittier exes.
"That's a great start," Seungkwan responds sounding genuinely happy. Genuinely proud of you. His warm, larger hand grabbing yours and rubbing soothing circles into your skin. "Also, I'm sorry. I know you're an adult and I don't want to come across like I'm scolding you but, it's really hard watching you go back to him and break your heart all over again."
Oh, the guilt is back. Different but, present all the same. At this point, it's become an ever present companion for you.
"I'm sorry too. I know it's not fair for me to put the two of you through this either," you whisper in response. You don't think you're capable of speaking any louder right now.
"Hey now!" Soonyoung butts in, grabbing you both by your shoulders and crushing you to his chest. Seungkwan, to everyone's shock, only protests minimally, "What are friends for? Now both of you stop being so gloomy. We're here to get tipsy on cheap wine, inhale all the carbs we can and watch bad movies. Get it together."
The laugh that Soonyoung forces from you is foreign and a little rough around the edges but, it's one of the few you've managed in longer than you care to think about. And if you cling to him more fiercely than usual, he has the grace not to mention it.
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It gets a little easier after that. You haven't found yourself knocking at Joshua's door for a good month now. Soonyoung seems ready to throw you a party over it and the same pity isn't as present in Seungkwan's gaze when the three of you find the time to catch up with each other.
Joshua never messages or calls you in the time you don't spend in his bed. You suppose you shouldn't be surprised. You're typically the one reaching out to him and making the journey to his apartment to experience a fraction of him. To bask in whatever he's willing to offer you.
You're not sure whether what you two have can be classed as affectionate. It was better than nothing, at least, you had supposed.
You still can't help the sparks of bitterness that fester in your system when you open up your chat with him. A simple 'Okay' from him being the last message in the conversation when you asked if you could come over. God, you were pathetic. Sad. Desperate.
Perhaps it's pettiness or spite or the resentment or maybe some part of you still wants his attention but, you send him a message before locking your phone for the night and turning away to face your windows. The voice in your head (that sounds suspiciously like Seungkwan) echoes that maybe that wasn't a good idea. Maybe allowing your anger to get the better of you wasn't wise. However, what's done is done. You just hope sleep finds you quicker than it has over the past two years.
You: I'm going on a date on Friday.
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Seokmin is a nice guy.
No, calling him nice isn't fair or true to the man's character. Nice is vague. Meaningless. A platitude at best.
Ever since Soonyoung very heavy handedly sent you his number in the hopes that you'd focus your attention elsewhere, you two had been speaking borderline nonstop for a week now. Him regaling you with the less glamorous aspects of being an actor and you venting to him about a particular unruly classroom. You'd learned that he cried easily and had a weakness for anything dogs related. He'd learned that you love musicals and random historical facts.
It was the first time in a long time Joshua had barely crossed your mind. He still had but, it was an improvement. A week wasn't realistic enough to completely be clean of him but, you were taking steps. Seokmin definitely made it less difficult.
So, when Seokmin, nervousness rolling off of him in waves even over text, had asked you on a date, it was a no-brainer that you'd agree without much question. You deserve a pleasant night out. It also certainly doesn't hurt that Seokmin is an Adonis of a man.
You honestly don't remember the last time you were giddy over a date. Over a man. Butterflies kicking up in a storm in your stomach when you agonise over what you should wear. The temptation to cancel springing up more times than you count with every drag of your hangers and article of clothing that adds to pile accumulating on your bedroom floor. Fortunately, you find a dress in the back of your wardrobe that clings to you in a way that balances attractive and formal masterfully.
Seokmin is somehow even more attractive in person. All the pictures you came across during your search across his social media accounts do not even begin to do him justice. He's funnier too. His tales of disastrous productions and poor costume fittings prompting laughter out of you the likes of which mostly Soonyoung and Seungkwan are able to. Before you know it, it's already been three hours, and your mostly plates and glasses remain largely untouched.
"I had a great time," Seokmin starts once you two are outside. Whether it's the breeze or his proximity to you, goosebumps rise on your skin. It doesn't help that his cologne infiltrates your senses and muddles your mind further. The butterflies have chosen now to make a reappearance as well.
"Me too," you reply, your cheeks hurting from how hard you've been smiling all night and now isn't any different. Seokmin looks for all the world that he wants you to kiss him. Kind, brown eyes fliting down to your lips in a way you assume he hopes is subtle but, it's not. Terribly so. It's cute though. He's cute. However, you think you're going to take it slower this time around. As infatuating as he is, you know you're in no place to be kissing anyone.
Before you can bring up a different topic to help cut some of the tension weighing on your chest, your phone vibrates in your hand. Alerting you that your Uber has arrived.
"Looks like my ride is here," you tell him with a disappointed turn of your lips. For all your reservations, you really wouldn't have minded spending some more time with the man who would put the sun to shame.
"Have a safe ride home. Text me when you get home, okay?" And his blinding smile spreads across his handsome face once more. You've only known Seokmin for a short period but, it feels freeing to talk to someone whose feelings you don't need to attempt to decipher. They're there and clear as day on his face and in his words. Or maybe you're projecting. That's possible.
"Will do. Text me when you get home too, okay?" You reply, steeling your resolve before pulling him in for a hug. Hugs are fine. Safe. At least a safer option than kissing. Seokmin happily returns the gesture and heat that you haven't felt in some time begins to simmer in the very pit of your stomach when you feel how solid he is.
Now is not the time.
"Of course. It was nice getting to finally meet you in person. Hopefully we can see each other again," Oh. The butterflies certainly feel strongly about that.
Untangling yourself from his built frame is unpleasant, and a deeply irrational part of you wants to continue to cling to him. You opt to shove it down. "Hopefully," you respond with a coy smile, "I'd like that." And you truly would.
Seokmin watches you enter your Uber. He watches you until he can no longer see the car, and the gesture brings a smile to your face so wide that it feels a little foreign. If the driver hears your dreamy sigh, they choose not to comment on it. Thoughts of the actor with perhaps the brightest smile you've ever seen in your life fill your mind all the way to your apartment. Seokmin is still occupying your thoughts as you greet the on duty security and enter the, thankfully, empty elevator. More people don't need to see you practically levitating over this man. Over one date.
The smile that's been stinging your cheeks drops from your face when you notice a figure lingering at your front door. You can tell even from this distance that it's Joshua. Your steps grow more hurried, the clinking of your heels echoing through the empty hall. You suppose you're grateful that none of your neighbours are out. You're not entirely sure how this is going to go based on the anger bubbling up inside of you at the sight of your ex-boyfriend.
Joshua turns his head at the sound of your heels and he has the nerve to smile. To look relieved. You beat him to the punch for once instead of allowing the very tentative wall you've meticulously been building since the last time you found yourself in his too cool bed to crumble.
"What're you doing here?"
The bite in your voice takes even you by surprise but, you're too tired and a touch too fed up to really care about potentially offending him. Your arms crossing over your rapidly rising and falling chest as anger courses through your veins.
For all your inability to typically read him, the surprise on his face is clear as day. You don't think you've ever seen him look this unsure, a nervous hand carding through his short, dark hair. Oh. He must have cut it in the time you haven't found yourself on his doorstep.
"Hi uh," he stutters in a way deeply unlike him, "Can we talk inside?"
A voice that sounds very much like Seungkwan screams to send him away. To cuss him out where he stood in your hall and send him back to his sterile apartment that you never quite seemed to fit into.
However, you've never been good at saying no to him.
"Fine," you spit, walking to your front door and unlocking it while he stood by just hovering. Admitly, beneath the frustration and anger and annoyance at seeing him again after what has felt like ages, a miniscule part of you is curious why he's here.
Joshua walks in after you easily. The same way he used to when the two of you were together. The knowledge simultaneously dulls and sharpens the knife that twists in your gut but, you push it aside. Maybe an actual conversation is far overdue so, you can finally be free of him. Your coworker Wonwoo likes to joke that closure is just an invention of fiction but, just maybe this is your chance to find a fraction of it.
He shuts the door behind him while you turn on the lights. You want nothing more than to kick off your heels, pour yourself a glass of wine and regale Soonyoung and Seungkwan with all the details of your night. Joshua sure has a knack for ruining your plans.
"So, what do you want to talk about?" You ask once you've gathered all of courage. Leaning against the back of your couch, waiting for him to explain himself. Ignoring the way your throat burns seeing him in your home again.
"How was your date?" Are not the words you were expecting and they throw you utterly for a loop.
"What?" You blurt out sounding completely flabbergasted, "Is that why you're here? Fucking seriously?" The anger that's been simmer under the surface grows in ferocity once you begin to piece together why he's here. Why he's decided to reinsert himself into your life.
"You're here because you're fucking jealous?"
He has the nerve to look affronted by the assertion, "I'm not jealous-" he starts but, you're beyond frustrated and annoyed right now. Seungkwan would be proud.
"Joshua, please. Then why are you here? Why are you asking about my fucking date? Because you want an update on my life? You haven't reached out to me in fucking months!" You exclaim and you just hope you're not loud enough for any of your neighbours to hear. Though your concerns around that are minimal as the object of your anger walks towards you tentatively.
"I know," he sighs, continuing to run a tired hand through what you assume was his meticulously styled hair, "Honestly, I'm not sure why I'm here. I'm sorry. I just- I just miss you, I think."
Soonyoung has always been fond of calling Joshua an asshole over the course of your relationship and even after its end, but, in this moment, you realise Josh is not just an asshole, he's cruel.
His admission renders you speechless. You probably look comical just staring at him as his words sink into your brain.
'I just- I just miss you.'
He continues on his cruel streak, your carefully constructed walls falling to pieces with every syllable that leaves his full lips, "When you sent me that text, it just felt so awful. I felt awful and I think I realised just how much I missed you. Missed having you around. So I just got in my car and drove here," he breathes out, nearly tripping over his words in a rush to get them out, "I think I'm starting to understand why you came to my place all those months ago," he laughs with very little humour.
You think this is perhaps the most vulnerable you've ever seen him. More than your first date. The first time you told him you loved him. The first time you two slept together. All of those moments could not ever hope to hold a candle to the unadulterated emotions stirring in his doe eyes right now.
"You really suck, you know that?" You respond, the watery quality of your voice not going unnoticed, "Just when I thought I could let you go and move on, you just had to come back and do all of this. Say all of this," you mutter tiredly, shutting your eyes to just have a moment to yourself to think. To breathe.
The press of his forehead against your own is startling but, and you won't ever admit it to anyone else, comforting. It just feels so good to allow yourself to melt into him. The familiar scent of his too expensive cologne infiltrating your senses and muddling your brain further. Your hands grasp the front of his shirt, a shuddering breath leaving your lips.
"I know. I'm sorry," he whispers, and he's just so close, and you remember how easy it was to fall in love with him. How easy it is to continue to fall into him every chance you can.
So you do.
Everything, every voice that sounds like a friend screaming at you that this is a horrible, stupid idea, that you've been doing well, are all silenced when you press your lips to his in a kiss that is more hesitant than anything else. He kisses you back fiercer than you anticipate. Than you're used to from him. Swallowing your startled gasp like it's the first thing he's consumed in days and cupping your face with his large hands. His teeth nip at your bottom lip briefly when a whimper falls from your lips from how aggressive he's being.
"This is my favourite dress of yours," he mutters into your mouth between kisses, the tender way his thumbs brush your face juxtaposing with his desire to seemingly consume you whole, "I've always thought you looked gorgeous in it. So beautiful. Sexy," he continues, one of his hands drifting to palm at the thickest part of your exposed thigh. Arousal pools in the pit of your stomach. The fact that it's been months since you've been with him, been with anyone, fully hitting your body based on how quickly you find yourself becoming wet and your thighs rub against one another.
"My beautiful girl," he whispers, not giving you enough time to process his words before his mouth descends on you again. His hand kneading your thigh in a way that could be considered desperate if this was anyone other than Josh, shoving the material of your dress higher.
Once you remember you can touch him too, your hands find themselves in his now shorter hair, the inky locks filling the gaps between your fingers easily and the groan he presses into your lips worsens the ache you feel at the apex of your thighs. You want him. You don't think you'll ever stop wanting but, seeing him lose his composure for once has your panties sticking to you in a way that grows uncomfortable fast.
"Bedroom," you whisper, maybe part of you is worried that if either of you speak too loudly you'll burst this bubble you've found yourselves in. Josh just nods, tugging you to wobbly feet and pushing you towards your bedroom. His mouth never leaving yours while his hands touch and feel and grope and paw at every part of you they can reach. You try to not think too hard about how this reminds you of the first time he spent the night here and, how easily he seems to remember where your room is.
Fortunately, it doesn't take the two of you long to bump against your bedroom door. Fumbling with it longer than necessary while being lost in each other. A breathless giggle from you fills the quiet space when he curses while struggling to shut it behind him. Your laughter doesn't last long. His lips pressing scorching kisses to your throat as you settle onto your bed. It's like he can't even go a few seconds without touching you somehow. The thoughts prompts your heart to thunder in your chest.
"Can I take this off?" He asks against the hollow of your throat, impatiently tugging on the straps of your dress. You nod quickly, shuddering when he runs his teeth along your pulse and you feel him lightly grinding against your thigh.
"I want you to use your words, baby," baby. He really will be your demise. You can't remember the last time he called you that and, it only further fogs up your mind.
"Yes, Joshie, please," you whimper, your fingernails biting into the muscles of his biceps. The veins on his forearms coupled with the way the muscles flex is just so hot that it feels just the slightest bit unfair. Briefly, you wonder if he wore a short sleeve shirt because he knows how just a little bit stupid his arms make you.
He stills over you. His lidded eyes widening in surprise and, that forces you out of your lust-filled daze. He beats you to it before you can question his change of demeanour.
"You called me Joshie," is all he says in explanation at first, fingers ghosting over your shoulders. The barely there touch causing goosebumps to rise on your skin, "You haven't called me that since we broke up," he finishes and the raw emotion in his eyes renders you unable to respond for a few, long moments.
"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't-"
"It's okay. More than okay, actually," he cuts you off with a shake of his head, tossling his hair even more, "I didn't realise how much I missed hearing you call me that and Shua until now," he leans down, heavy eyes focusing on your well-kissed lips as his hands begin to slowly undress you, "Please keep calling me by those names."
The control he had slips out of his grasp as his hands tug down the straps of your form-fitting dress. While you'd much rather wind your arms around his broad and solid torso, you concede for these few minutes to help him undress you. Helping him free your arms from your straps before he tugs it off of your body in record time. Between how quickly you find yourself nearly naked and his words, you can't help yourself reaching for him and he happily complies. Nestling himself between your thighs properly while his hands squeeze your breasts over your bra.
"Shua," you whine into his mouth, your hips jolting up to his when you feel him pressed against you. Your hands tug him as close to you as humanly possible. Determined to fuse yourself to him and, based on the way his grip on you grows harsher, he doesn't seem to mind the idea all that much.
"God, I fucking missed you so much," he groans, nuzzling himself into your neck once more. Licking and kissing every millimetre of your skin he can, and every breath hitting you sends you further into madness. You suppose after months of not being touched, even his breath fanning against your skin is enough for goosebumps to rise to your skin and your thighs to clamp around his waist.
"Missed you too, Shua," you sigh, arching into him when his soft lips drift from your throat to sear kisses to the tops of your breasts. His hands reaching behind you to skillfully unclasp your bra and toss it somewhere onto your bedroom floor. Completely forgotten as he takes the opportunity to drink in the sight of your breasts moving with every greedy inhale and shuddering exhale you take.
"God, you're beautiful," he sighs in a way you'd almost describe as dreamy. His irises totally swallowed whole by his dilated pupils. The 'thank you' you intend to respond with is wiped from your mind when he latches onto one of your hardened nipples. His massive hand kneading your other breast to ensure it's not neglected. Your fingers weave into his hair, tugging on it with each tug of his plump lips and lick of tongue. His fingers tugging on your nipple enough to make you gasp from the embers of pain.
"Always so responsive," he chuckles throatily against your skin, pinching your nipple to prove his point. His eyes glinting at the way you moan and grind against his prominent length.
"Stop teasing," you whine, pouting at him. You're taken aback by the way his eyes soften considerably. Leaning up to press a heartbreaking gentle kiss to your more than likely bruised lips while his hand drifts towards your thighs. Swallowing your keens as his stupidly long fingers drag themselves over your panties. Coating them further in your wetness while you attempt to ground yourself by clawing at his broad shoulders.
"I'm sorry," he says and, based on the way he speaks, you're not entirely sure what he what he's apologising for.
His fingers shove your panties to the side and touch your slick folds directly before you're left with your thoughts for too long. "Joshie," you cry into him with every barely there brush of his digits. Your hips bucking into him when they circle your clit before continuing their leisure stroke of you.
"You're so fucking wet already," he groans, returning to your breasts to litter them with much harsher kisses. His fingers shallowly dipping into your entrance but never giving you the satisfaction you so deeply need. "All of this just from some kissing and playing with your tits, baby?" He asks, glancing up at you like you could realistically answer with his long fingers touching you and his breath fanning across your breasts. The amusement in his tone prickling your cheeks in embarrassment, more of your wetness leaking out of you and onto him.
"Or maybe you just get this wet for me." He muses out loud with a grin that's too smug for your liking. "Don't roll your eyes at me like that," he chuckles. However, the lightheartedness of the moment is cut short when he brings the hand that's been toying with your pussy up for you to see.
"I mean, it is true though. Isn't it?" He poses with a glance to gauge your reaction as his fingers spread, your arousal webbing them. You wouldn't be surprised if you were radiating enough heat from your face to rival the sun.
"Shua, that's embarrassing," you whine, avoiding his intense gaze, choosing instead to focus on an imaginary spot over his shoulder.
"There's nothing to be embarrassed about, baby," he mutters, resting his slick fingers on your bottom lip and focusing on them fully, "If anything, I'm flattered," he finishes with another arrogant uptick of his lips. It doesn't take much nudging for you to part your lips and for him to push his digits into his mouth. A quiet groan hitting your ears when you hum around them, your tongue licking up the taste of yourself eagerly.
"Fuck," he hisses, his thumb catching the drool that slips past your occupied mouth, "I should let you suck on my fingers more often. You look so pretty with them in your mouth," he mutters, grinding his hips against you as he memorises the sight of you gagging on his fingers and lapping at your essence. "Plus, I know how much you like them. You're not very subtle," he laughs, pulling them from your drooling lips and leaning away from you.
He doesn't give you much time to complain or miss his warmth over you, hooking his thumbs into the waistband of your soiled panties and tugging on them so frantically you're worried that he'll rip them. Luckily, they remain intact and soon join the heap of your clothing strawn all over your bedroom floor.
You don't typically have the presence of mind and time to feel self-conscious when you've been with Joshua. Too preoccupied with shutting your brain off and enjoying whatever time with him he lets you have. However, the way he pauses and his eyes leisurely scan your body now tempts you to hide in your pillows. Your heart trying its utmost to burst out of your chest and your blood roaring in your veins all you can hear.
He doesn't leave you to spiral for much longer. Tugging off his shirt that costs more than you think a plain, blue shirt has any right to. Your walls clench hard when your eyes land on the expanses of muscle, skin and arms that are available for you to fully consume.
"I want you to sit on my face," he says and his words are laden with so much unflinching desire. His eyes reflecting the same emotions and, you didn't think it was plausible for you to get any wetter yet, here you are.
"Shua, you don't have to-"
"I want to," he cuts you off with an air of finality. His gaze holding your own and waiting to see if you'd push this.
"I was such a fucking selfish asshole," he huffs, dragging the hand not covered in your spit down his handsome face, "I'm sorry."
You soften at that. Reaching for his hand and lacing your fingers with his, "It's okay."
"It's not," he argues, squeezing your hand before letting it go and settling beside you, "You deserve better than me, you know."
"I've been told," you respond dryly, trying your utmost to keep the images of your friends out of your mind. Basking in the warmth of his body.
"I'll make it up to you. Every chance I can. I promise I'll make it up to you. So, come here," he says as though his words don't close up your throat and cause your heart to hammer against your chest. When he looks at you like that, how could you ever dream of denying him?
Joshua's eyes never leave yours the entire time you move to settle yourself on his handsome face. The look in his eyes makes you feel like you're being set alight from the inside out, only finding a brief reprieve when his focus shifts from your face to your pussy. Large hands palming your thighs while his eyes drink you in.
"Come here," he commands, pulling you towards him. The strength in his hold causes your walls to flutter but, he doesn't force you. Giving you the chance to settle down on his face at your own pace. It doesn't take you much more prompting to do so. Carefully straddling him to make sure he can still breathe and that you're not smothering him. Joshua, however, doesn't care for your concerns. Firmly pulling you down onto him and latching onto your clit like a man starved. Not allowing you a moment to catch your breath. Long fingers biting into your ass as he guides you along his face.
"Shua," you cry, steadying yourself on your headboard while he continues to eager lap at your clit. Your thighs quiver around his head with every suck and lick he gives you, his hold helping you along his tongue. If you could find the strength to crack open your eyes, you would've noticed him watching you. His cock twitching in his boxers with every shuddering exhale and moan from your bruised lips.
The knot in the pit of your stomach tightens faster than you anticipate. Perhaps it's not being touched by anyone for so long or, perhaps it's simply Joshua that has your orgasm building up so quickly. From the way he groans into your drenched folds and his fingers dig into your so harshly that you wouldn't be surprised to find imprints on your ass later, he doesn't. If anything, your fragile state just motivates him. The vibrations from all of his own sounds of pleasure coupled with his unrelenting tongue made it so you really never stood a chance.
He continues to lap at you through one of your most intense orgasms. The grip you have on your headboard bites into your skin but, you can't bring yourselves to care when your walls spasm continously and your vision darkens around the edges. Overwhelmed tears spilling from you and streaking overheated face.
"Joshie," you whimper, your hips attempting to jolt away from him but, his strength is unrelenting. Keeping you firmly situated on his face while his focus shifts lower. A shudder running down your spine and goosebumps once again prickling your skin when he chooses to lap up your wetness directly from the source. The prods of his tongue and brushes of his nose on your clit make your stomach feels as though its tangled in a series of complicated knots.
The tears continue to fall freely as the overstimulation settles itself into your very bones. Your second release hits you like a runaway train. Your choked moans and cries of his name echoing so prominently throughout your bedroom, you're a little worried your neighbours might hear you. Joshua doesn't seem to care all that much. Cursing into your twitching entrance as more of your wetness seeps out of you and onto his awaiting tongue.
His hold on you eases up significantly after that, and with the near nonexistent energy you have and on still shaking thighs, you move off of him. Gracelessly plopping yourself down next to him in an attempt to regain sensation below your waist and come back from whatever dimension his mouth sent you to.
"Are you okay?"
Cracking a tired eye open to meet his heavy but, slightly concerned eyes proves to be a mistake. His hair is a complete and utter mess. Sticking up in every which direction in a way that just endearing him to you. However, the flush to his cheeks and sheen of your juices on the bottom half of his face quickly diminish any less carnal feelings you felt bubbling up for him. Despite nearly blacking out from how hard you came. Twice. Your body still opts to betray you. Your walls clenching around nothing at his dishevelled state and the outline clear as day in his dress pants.
"Yeah," you manage to croak out, cringing at the scratchy quality of your voice.
"Good," he mutters before kissing you. It's much gentler this time around. His tongue still snaking its way into your mouth and, the taste of yourself on it is enough for you to pull him closer to you. Tugging on his hair with every press of his plush lips and nip on your bottom lip. You're reminded that he's very much still hard and hasn't cum when the weight of him rests against your thigh. Just the idea of his cock pulls a wanton whine from you, which he happily swallows.
"Want you," you pant against him, trying your best not to allow yourself to completely lose yourself in his swirling, brown eyes.
"You have me, baby," he responds with more meaning than your fuzzy brain can process right now. His thumb caressing your cheek while he plants quick but, gentle kisses to your lips.
"No," you say, reaching one of your hands between your bodies and cupping him over his pants. He groans against you, his hips jerking against your hand, "I want you, Joshie," you emphasise with a squeeze of his girthy, long cock.
"I wanted tonight to be about you," the drop in octave of his voice only adds to the fresh wave of wetness leaking out of your pulsing hole. "Well, I want to feel you inside of me. That makes it still about me, doesn't it?"
You would laugh at the strangled 'fuck' that leaves his lips if you weren't at your wit's end right now. His kiss is much more aggressive this time around. Barely giving you any time or room to breathe or think while his hands fumble with the buttons and zipper of his pants. Tugging them and his boxers off at record speed and tossing them unceremoniously to join the mess on your bedroom floor. His lips remain attached to yours the entire time. Determined to make you think of nothing but, him.
You moan into each other when his bare cock drags along your drenched folds. His hips shallowly thrusting along you until he's slick with your wetness and his pre-cum. Every nudge of his fat head on your hypersensitive clit causes your lashes to flutter and your hips to meet him in his shallow movements.
"Shua, please," you whimper out when he drifts to kiss and lick your throat once again. His hips never ceasing their movements while his hands occupy themselves with your breasts. Tugging on your nipples while he nips into every bit of your skin his teeth can reach.
"You drive me fucking crazy," he groans, pulling away from you. He doesn't go too far. Gripping himself in his large hand and watching the way he runs along your slit. Drinking in the way you mewl and arch into him, chasing him for every bit of sensation he offers. "Your pussy's so pretty, baby. You'll look even better with my cock spliting you open, yeah?" He breathes, blown out pupils watching your face when he teases your fluttering entrance.
"Yes, yes, Joshie please. Please, just fuck me. I need it, I need you."
That prompts an especially harsh thrust against you, but he still doesn't sink into you, and you think you may just burst into tears from frustration. You'd forgotten his fondness for teasing and pushing you as close as possible to insanity.
"You really want me to fuck you that badly, baby?" The smirk on his face is equal parts irritating and attractive, "You'll even let me fuck you without a condom? My poor, desperate baby," he coos. Shifting his attention away from your face momentarily to watch the way his length teases your hole, his head just barely pushing into you.
"Fuck," you whimpers, gripping your poor sheets for dear life, "Yes, Joshie. Yes, I want you to fuck me raw. Please please pleas-" you choke on a moan when he slowly starts to sink into you. Your head kicks back and whimpers flow freely from your lips with every centimetre of himself he pushes into you. You probably should have let him stretch you out on his long, thick fingers because it takes you a great deal of adjusting to grow accustomed to his cock. His hands scorch your hips and shake with restraint. Determined to allow you ample room to get used to the feeling of him before he really starts to move.
It's difficult to know who moans the loudest when he's finally fully sheathed inside of you. The last time the two of you had forgone condoms was when you were still dating so, the feeling him completely bare sends your mind and body into a tailspin. Your fingernails digging into his back harder than you mean to but, it's not like you can help it when you can feel his cock molding you around him and kissing the deepest parts of you and, he hasn't even moved yet. Joshua, for his part, isn't fairing much better than you. Panting into the space between your neck and shoulder as he attempts to gather his bearings while your walls sporadically clench and unclench around him. It's a little embarrassing how close he already feels but, when your warm, wet walls cling to him, he doesn't think he can be faulted too much.
"Joshie, you ca-can move," you manage to utter with everything within you. Reaching for him and cupping his beautiful face in your hands. You don't want to examine the look in his eyes too closely right now. You don't think your heart can take it, and you fear you'll cry for an entire reason entirely if you do.
He nods. His first thrust is barely a movement at all, calling it shallow would be generous. However, after what has felt like a lifetime without any friction, that miniscule movement is still enough to set off sparks in the base of your spine and a gasp to be punched straight from your already struggling lungs. "I missed you," he grunts into your neck, the slight pain from where he runs over the bruises forming there with his mouth only causing you to clamp down even more around his thick cock.
"Missed you so fucking much. Only thought about you the whole time," he pants while he picks up his speed significantly, his hands keeping you in place while he sets the pace. Glancing up at you to watch the way your face twists with every drag of himself along your sinful walls and bite of your sensitive neck. "Did you miss me? Did you think of me? Think of this cock, sweetheart?"
"Yes," you cry out, trying to fill your greedy, burning lungs with any air you can while you lose yourself in pleasure, in him, "I only ever thought of you, Shua. Missed y-you so much," you moan because it's true. It was so hard staying away from him. From not running to your car and knocking on his door at concerning hours of the night. And now, as he fucks you to tears on his cock, you wonder why you even stayed away from him. From the look he gives you now that makes you feel like you're burning and, from the way his large hands that splay across your hips, you don't know why you ever thought of never seeing him again.
Your respective sounds of pleasure coupled with the obscene sounds of him thrusting into you ring out throughout your room. Bleary eyes drinking in the way his biceps flex and the sheen of sweat that's built up on his tan skin. Inky hair sticking to his damp forehead as he watches himself sink into you over and over and over again. Catching your lidded gaze and leaning down to kiss you, one of his hands cupping your jaw. Drifting downwards to ghost along your throat but, not applying pressure. Still, the thought itself is enough for you to keen against him and tightening around his cock.
"I love you."
Now that catches you totally off guard. Your eyes widening and your blood roaring in your ears. You blink up at him, your lips parting as your brain tries to process his words.
"Joshie," you sigh, lacing your fingers behind his neck and kissing the corner of his lips, "I love you too. I'll always love you," you whisper, not wanting to scare him away and feeling far too much far too quickly that you don't think you could speak louder even if you wanted to.
"Fuck," he grits out, pressing your thighs against your chest and tugging you into another searing, messy lip lock. It's more teeth and spit than an actual kiss but, you're not complaining. "You're mine, right? That other guy could never make you feel the way I do, right baby?" He groans against your mouth. You weren't expecting him to bring up Seokmin now of all times, while his cock bullies the sensitive parts of your walls and you're pretty sure another orgasm is building.
"Joshie-"
"I want you to say it," he mutters, his hand slotting itself between your sweaty, scorching bodies until his fingers find your clit. Not allowing you a chance to adjust, rubbing quick circles into while he continues to split you open on his cock, "that you're mine. That he'd never make you feel this way. Feel this good."
"I'm y-yours, Joshie," you whimper, his body keeping you in place so you have no choice but to allow yourself to be fucked dumb by him. That all too familiar knot tightening and tightening with every brush and stroke, "I'm yours. Always yours. Only yours," you cry out when he bites down on your neck.
You feel him cum before the warning tumbles out of his mouth. His cock pushed into you as deeply as it'll go and it throbs. It throbs and keeps throbbing with every rope of his cum that fills your waiting walls. Drawn out moans burned into your skin while his fingers clumsy continue to rub into you. It's no surprise then, with his warm cum already beginning to leak out of you, that your third orgasm hits you. This one isn't as intense as the previous two but, it does still causes you to squirm underneath him. Slick walls spasming around his softening cock while your combined orgasms trickle out of you and onto your poor sheets.
"Shua, my thighs hurt," you wheeze, tapping his arm. He mutters a tired 'sorry' before slowly pulling out of you and getting off of you. He does take a long moment to sear the image of his cum dribbling out of you into his mind. Shaking his head, he lies down beside you and tugs you to his broad chest. Cuddling with Joshua joins the litany of activities and behaviours you're not used to from him. However, he's so warm and you're so, so tired. It's just so easy to allow yourself to be lulled to sleep by his heartbeat and his hand playing with your hair. It doesn't take long for him to join you in the land of slumber after your eyes flutter shut.
Seokmin💛: Hey, just wanted to let you know I got home! I really did have a great time. I hope we can go out on another date soon :)
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creedslove · 5 months
Text
THE MILLERS 💖 - HALLOWEEN EDITION🎃
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No outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader
(This can be read as a Halloween 🎃 stand alone, or as a continuation of THE MILLERS 💖, that was also inspired by this post here)
Summary: Joel takes his son trick or treating on Halloween and you three spend a beautiful family moment together
Warnings: fluff, sweetness, Joel being the best dad in the world, sexual tension, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of breeding kink, allusions to smut
A/N: besties, I could go without boy dad!Joel, he's the perfect husband and dad to take our kid trick or treating, am I right? Enjoy it ❤️
2.4k words
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The moment Joel woke up that Halloween morning, Sammy was already all around him, so excited and wanting to play, but not only that, he couldn't wait until the evening came and it was time for his daddy to take him trick or treating. Joel on the other hand, had so many things to do at work, but he had already told Tommy and the other guys he would leave early, because there was no way he was going to run late for such special occasion with his life, as not showing up at all due to work wasn't even a possibility to begin with. 
You finished the scrambled eggs and served your husband a plate, Sammy played trucks on the living room carpet, he was never hungry in the morning, but he still ate a grape or two when you insisted on him too, but overall, all he wanted was to play and spend time with his daddy. Your heart was always swollen with pride to see how much your son loved his daddy and how similar they were. Joel was usually a tough man, but he was always so gentle and soft around his family, you knew you couldn't have chosen a better man to build a life with. 
Your husband sipped his coffee as he let out a satisfied moan at the taste of your breakfast and gently placed his big hand on yours, caressing it gently as he looked into your eyes 
"Is everything set for tonight? What about his costume?" 
"If by everything set you mean your son talking about it non-stop for the past week, then yeah, everything's set" you tilted your head and stared at him, Joel was such a handsome man, his features were both gorgeous and attractive and if you really could choose, you would like to drag him back to your room and and sit on his lap, kissing Joel for as long as you wanted and make sweet love to him. It was funny how it always alternated between the two of you; sometimes you wanted it hard and fast, you wanted him to be rough and sometimes all you wanted was to move your bodies in sync as you stared into each other's eyes. 
"I was hoping we could spend some alone time after trick or treating, you know…" you bit your lips and he picked the clue immediately, his hand left yours and went down the table, stroking your thigh very gently at first, even if his rough calloused hand didn't need much more than a ghostly touch to get you all worked up. 
"Am I neglecting you, baby girl?" He raised his eyebrow and made you blush softly, at the same time you shook your head, Joel Miller would never neglect his woman and her needs, but he had been busy for the past few days, and with a small toddler at home, it was pretty much a miracle when the two of you were actually full of energy enough to fool around a little bit. His hand now squeezed your thigh, running it up and down and appreciating the effect he had on you; Joel Miller was an addiction to you, no matter if you'd been married for a few years and if you had a baby together, he was still the one you craved and desired the most in your life. 
However, as life with toddlers wasn't easy at all, the moment you were ready to spice up a little bit, perhaps kissing his neck and nibbling his weak spot or casually resting your hand over his crotch, but tiny steps interrupted any flirting that was going on as your son's beautiful face lit up in a smile 
"Daddy! Morning!!!" He cheered excitedly and rushed to his papa Joel, climbing his lap and getting comfortable. He eyed his dad's plate and tiny fingers stole some of his scrambled eggs and you chuckled, it wasn't about breakfast, it was about his dad's breakfast. Sammy loved his daddy with all his little heart and cherished every single minute he could spend with him, to which Joel also appreciated and did his best to make sure it happened very often. 
Your husband chuckled and placed both hands on Sammy's tummy, holding him tight against his body and resting his chin on his head. His brown curls smelled so good, as you were always so careful with hygiene and you made sure to bathe your son every day. Sammy's hands rested over his dad's. The contrast between his tiny ones and his dad's big ones also made your heart clench. Your life was so good and a part of you feared it was just too good to be true. As Joel questioned Sammy about his costume, your son told him all about it. He was excited to go as an octopus, which surprised the both of you, you knew Sammy had taken an interest in sea animals after his uncle Tommy had let him watch 'Meg' in a very irresponsible move, your son seemed to be fascinated by such animals, so you assumed his chosen costume would be a shark, however, not long after he watched the movie, Sarah came home one weekend and made sure to take him to visit the aquarium and after that, your son seemed obsessed with sea animals. Apparently, octopuses were his favorite at the moment, judging by how frequently he drew them all over his sheets of paper. The fact that Sarah, Joel and uncle Tommy all bought him all sorts of illustrated magazines and books about sea animals, made him even happier. So when he told you about the costume, you had to drive around a little to find a good one, but when you did, your son was in love with what he was seeing. He was just so excited and happy, he wanted to wear it every single day and if you hadn't told him he should make his costume a surprise for his daddy Joel, you were sure he would've thrown a tantrum over not wearing the outfit every single day, but instead, he kept it a secret - and by secret he actually told his daddy every single detail of it - which very often made you and Joel laugh together. 
When your husband announced he was going to work, your son sighed disappointed and Joel felt as if something pierced through his heart. He really needed to take a vacation some time soon, he couldn't handle seeing how upset his baby boy was each time he had to leave and also how much you missed him on a daily basis. 
"Stay daddy, please…" he said with puppy eyes and you took his tiny hand 
"Daddy has to work my angel, you know he would stay if he could, right? But he will be back soon and we will go trick or treating tonight, remember the pumpkins we carved? We'll light them up and they'll look so nice…" you told him and played with his curls, so he nodded obediently as Joel painfully had to put him down and walk to his truck. 
You knew Joel would spend a lot more with you both if he could, but since it wasn't possible, you invited your son to run some errands with you in order to distract him until it was time to trick or treat. 
                            •••
Your son was running happily through the backyard as he loved playing with the plushie tentacles of his costume. He was so excited to be finally dressed up for Halloween and the fact the street was slowly getting more and more illuminated by the all the pumpkins and decorations his little heart was racing like crazy out of excitement and expectation, but nothing, even compared to the moment he saw his daddy's truck parking in the driveway. He squealed the word 'daddy' at the top of his little lungs and rushed as fast as his legs allowed him to, the butterflies in his tummy being so much he even slipped and fell, unharmed, simply getting up on his own and jumping on Joel the moment his daddy opened his arms to welcome him in a tight embrace. Joel chuckled and wrapped his arms tightly around his boy, his sweet Sammy could look like him, physically, but he was all his mommy, his intelligence, his wit and that tooth rotting sweetness he could have only inherited from you. 
"You look amazing, buddy!? You scared me for a while! I thought an octopus had invaded our garden" he tickled his son's tummy who giggled hysterically and wrapped his arms around his daddy's neck 
"You're silly daddy" he giggled and smiled big once you walked to them, you hadn't properly dressed up, but you did throw a nice black outfit, some boots, a darker makeup and a witch hat 
"You're so pretty mommy!" Sammy cheered and clapped his little hands and you pretended not to see your husband eying you up and down. You kissed your son's forehead and nodded 
"Are you boys ready to go? Uncle Tommy says he'll stay in and hand candies to the kids…" you frowned as you tilted your head "Sammy… we have a problem, we can't go trick or treating without daddy putting on a costume" you winked at Joel who shot an annoyed look at you, but the moment his son agreed and began blabbering about how important it was that he got dressed, you chuckled and handed him a hockey mask. 
"There you go, you already got the shirt and now the mask, now we can scare some little kids" 
"More like scare dickheads who dare staring at your ass, darling" he leaned towards you and whispered into your ear, giving your neck a quick peck while Sammy ran to the front porch to grab his pumpkin-shaped basket of candy. 
It wasn't the first time you three went trick or treating together, but the year before Sammy was still too little to understand it fully and enjoy everything that was happening, unlike that special evening you spent walking around the neighborhood with your family, it felt special, the kind of special you snapped a picture or two to keep it as a memory but not more than that, so you wouldn't be glued to your phone the entire time. Joel took your hand as Sammy walked a couple of meters ahead of you, his basket was full of candy and he cheered each time he found someone looking interesting or even scary, as he wasn't afraid at all. 
Joel looked at you with soft eyes, removing his stupid mask 
"You look gorgeous tonight, you know that?" He pulled you by the waist and smirked "once our little one falls asleep it's time for us to enjoy our Halloween and you're so damn teasing with this witch bitch costume I might just get you pregnant again" 
"What?!" You widened your eyes at his words and couldn't help but let out a nervous laughter "another baby?" 
Joel shrugged and kissed your lips 
"Imagine a year from now, Sammy will be trick or treating with his baby sister, would you like that?" You take a deep breath, taking a look at him as you lick your lips 
"Well… I don't know… would you like that?" You asked him, after hearing Joel call himself old over and over, complain about how he doesn't have energy to catch up with Sammy and how his back hurt, you assumed having a second baby was off the table. However, seeing his hopeful eyes, the way he looked at his and the way he looked at all the other kids, you could tell maybe he actually meant that. 
"Do you think I'd joke about that? If I didn't want it, I wouldn't have mentioned it but if you don't want then it's fine, I mean, you're still young an-" 
You interrupted him with a kiss, of course you wanted if he wanted, having a family with Joel Miller was the best decision you'd ever taken, there was no way you could pass that up. 
"Mommy, daddy!" Sammy called the two of you, he was dragging his basket since it got so full he couldn't lift it up, you chuckled helping him with the candy as Joel lifted him up. You knew your son well enough to see he was already tired, no matter how hard he tried to fight sleep, rubbing his eyes was the only thing he could do as he rested against his dad's chest. Still falling asleep in Joel's arms, you both got home, Tommy was just finishing with the candy leftovers and widened his eyes the moment he saw Sammy's 
"Really? Stealing candy from a two-year-old?" Joel raised his eyebrow annoyed at his brother, but you tugged his sleeve, showing him it was time to put Sammy in bed. He helped you take the costume off and it was alright if your son skipped showering for one night, he didn't even wait for dinner, but it was alright, because the next day he would eat a delicious big breakfast you made him and your husband. 
As you and Joel went downstairs, he pulled you by the waist, sitting on the couch and taking you with him.
"Have you talked to Sarah?" You ask nuzzling his neck as you know how much he missed his daughter 
"We video chatted during my lunchtime… she is very pretty and she was going to a party" he said with a hint of sadness in his voice, it was painful for him to see his little girl growing up so much, so you nodded and snuggled him. You placed your hand on his stomach, gently scratching down his belly as you pecked his cheek and then went for Joel's lips 
"So your desire for a new baby was just because Sarah has grown up too fast or you actually wanna do it?" You asked him gently, his arm pulling you even closer as he shrugged 
"I don't know… I want it but I'm also scared… it's a lot of trouble, it's a lot of money and Sammy is still so small, he needs us so much. But at the same time it's about having another little version of you, running around, playing and melting my old heart, I can't decide" 
"You don't have to decide anything right now, Joel, but we could get started, couldn't we?" You whispered against his ear, to which he kissed you.
Joel wasn't very sure if he wanted another baby or not, but he was so happy to have you and Sammy in his life. He loved his little family with all his heart and there was nothing he could ask for other than live a world of happiness with the two of you. 
____
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janaispunk · 6 months
Text
only bought this dress so you could take it off
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series masterlist • this is part I
pairing: Dave York x f!reader
a/n: I was on my summer vacation last week, and I’m suffering from severe Dave York brainrot lately, which inspired a vivid daydream of Dave taking me on a little trip and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. I was planning to keep it a oneshot, but there are so many more ideas for this floating around in my head, so a part 2 miiight be happening. Please read the warnings, this one’s nasty! (it’s the murder daddy energy)
word count: ~10.4k (this was supposed to be a nice little pwp, idk what happened) (Dave was holding me at gun-point)
summary: You have been sleeping with Dave York for a few months, keeping things casual, when he suggests to go on vacation together. You’re not sure what to expect, but you agree, and Dave takes very good care of you.
warnings: bits of angst, dubious morality (Dave is cheating on his wife), kinda unhealthy relationship dynamics, age-gap implied, alcohol consumption, able-bodied reader, Dave pulls her hair, dom!Dave, sub!reader, rough sex, semi-public touching, sir kink, degradation kink, rough oral sex (m receiving), unprotected piv (reader is on bc in my head, but it’s not mentioned in the fic), dirty talk, Dave is a menace, spanking, choking, edging, spit kink, restraints, idiots in love, let me know if I missed any!
this is explicit 18+ content, minors do not interact pleaseeeee
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Your phone starts buzzing on your work desk around 8 AM. You just got into the office and are starring at your monitor blankly, nursing a to-go cup of too expensive coffee and questioning your life choices. A regular Tuesday really.
You groan and flick your eyes down to your phone, your mind way too exhausted to deal with whoever is trying to contact you right now. You read the name on the screen and do a double take, your tiredness immediately forgotten. You hastily grab the device and press the green button to accept the call.
“Hey,” you say, trying your best not to sound just as eager as you suddenly feel. He doesn’t need to know the effect a simple call from him has on you.
“Good morning, sweetheart. What took you so long to answer, huh?” his voice sounds in your ear, calm and composed as always, but with a hint of teasing. You bite your lip, thankful that he can’t see how just hearing him speak has a blush creeping up your cheeks.
“S-sorry, just work and everything, you know?”
You can’t help the little sigh that you let out -work really has been a nightmare lately- and he chuckles sympathetically.
“You poor thing. Speaking of work, I actually have a favor to ask you.”
He knows fully well that he doesn’t need to ask you favors - you’d give him everything he wants, without question. His usual demanding tone is lacing his words and you involuntary clench your thighs together. God, you’re down so bad for this man.
This, as you need to keep reminding yourself, married man, who lives the perfect suburban life with his wife and their two kids. He’s not in love with you, you’re well aware of that, and you’re trying your hardest not to fall in love with him either.
You don’t know what exactly is going on between him and his wife and you don’t pry. He’s told you that things between them aren’t working out anymore and that they’ve agreed to stay together and play happy family until their girls are older. You’re not dumb, you know that this is the kind of story that every cheating man tells the other woman. And you’d probably call him out on his bullshit, if he were any other man. Hell, you wouldn’t have gotten involved with any other married man in the first place.
But Dave isn’t just any man and he’s got you wrapped around his finger ever since you met in a hotel bar a few months ago. You had just been stood up at said bar and Dave had been on a business trip, spending the night there. He came up to you, looking more handsome than any man should have the right to, bought you a drink and had you following him up to his room in the blink of an eye, which led to sex that was easily the best you had ever had.
Now, Dave calls you regularly, mostly when he’s close enough to meet up, but also some nights when he whispers filthy things into your ear until you come on your own fingers because he is too far away to put his hands on you.
You like to think that he cares about you, that you’re not just the willing means to an end and that you can actually give him something that he can’t get anywhere else. Something soft, a person that cares for him and gives him the chance to be soft as well. Because they exist, those moments of softness, in between tangled sheets and laughs shared in the darkness of your room, his fingers mindlessly dancing over your body when he thinks you’re already asleep and his lips pressed against yours a little too urgently when he’s saying goodbye to you.
But most of the time, Dave doesn’t like to care. He also doesn’t like to be soft. He’s ruthless, his edges sharp like a knife and he likes coming at you hard. He doesn’t tell you exactly what he does for a living, but you suspect that it’s dangerous and violent. He needs an outlet, somewhere he can let his aggressions run free, someone he can control.
This, you can definitely give him. You let him take it out on you when things get too much, you give up all control to him, and you love it. And he knows that you do. Sometimes you wonder if that’s the only reason he’s keeping you around, but you can’t bring yourself to believe it.
So, when your phone lights up with his name, you answer, trying to conceal your desperation to hear his voice, the hold he has on you, even if you’re fighting a losing battle. And when he’s asking for a favor, you hum questioningly, even though you already know that your answer will be “yes”.
“Take the next week off, and pack a bag. I’m having a few free days, so we’re going away for a bit, I’m picking you up on Saturday.”
He’s basically giving you an order, not stopping to ask if you’ve already got plans, if this might be a bad time, anything. Do this, be there, stat. Because he knows that you will do as he says and you know it, too.
Excitement bubbles up in you, the prospect of spending a whole week with Dave, something of a vacation, from what it sounds like, is more than you had ever allowed yourself to even daydream about. This is not what your relationship is about, it’s not what you do. Except that… apparently it is?
“I- okay, yes. That- that sounds great, Dave.” Your delight at his proposal is clear in your voice. “Where are we going? What do I need to pack? Do I need to prepare anything?”
He chuckles again and you can picture him shaking his head.
“No doll, don’t worry your pretty little head about it. Just bring your passport and pack for warm weather. And, sweetheart?” His voice drops an octave and he’s basically purring in your ear. “The sluttier, the better.”
He hangs up without waiting for your answer. You’re left to spend the rest of your workday in a daze, your panties soaked and your head busy with already cataloguing your entire closet and which things you’ll pack.
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The days pass you by in weird chunks of time. On one hand, you can’t wait for Saturday, while on the other hand, you feel terribly unprepared, causing anxiety to creep up on you several times throughout the week. Every vacation you’ve ever been on has been meticulously organized and planned out by yourself and the lack of knowledge that you’re dealing with right now is entirely foreign to you.
What if you need a certain vaccine for wherever you’re going and you don’t have it? What if the flight has an early check-in that you need to take care of? Has Dave booked a hotel? How are the reviews? What do you need to prepare for?
The nervous urge to be ready for every kind of situation that you can’t satisfy right now is threatening to drive you crazy and you need to remind yourself more than once that this is Dave that you’re dealing with. Not one of your ex-boyfriends that would’ve come up with some half-assed plan that lacked in several vital points and required you to take care of things yourself eventually.
Dave is even more thorough than you, he doesn’t leave anything up to chance and he doesn’t forget things. You’re still reeling from the mere fact that he’s planning to take you away for a whole week. You’ve never spent that much uninterrupted time together and you honestly hadn’t thought that he would want to. This is couple stuff. And you’re not a couple. You’re just someone he sleeps with occasionally. You need to remember at least that.
You have texted him a few times, trying to get more information about the trip, but he hasn’t budged. You only manage to find out that he’ll come pick you up Saturday morning and that you’ll be gone for a whole week. And that you should pack a lot of bikinis.
“You make sure you’ll look good for me, and I’ll take care of the rest,” his text read. Followed up by a stern, “Stop worrying.”
You try taking his words to heart and get prepared in the one way you can: Buying lots of skimpy dresses and bikinis. You vividly picture him taking them off of you and it works. You do stop worrying.
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Saturday finally rolls around and you’re ready, suitcase fully packed and dressed in a skirt so short that it will probably have you freezing your ass off on the airplane, but you can hardly bring yourself to care.
His taxi finally pulls up to your apartment building and he jumps out to meet you while the driver loads in your suitcase. You can’t help the giddy smile that’s on your face when Dave’s arms envelop you and your lips are on his before he even gets a greeting out. He chuckles as he kisses you softly, one of his hands cupping the back of your head, before he pulls away slightly to look at you. You’re breathless; the sight of him in his crisp shirt, the top two buttons undone to show off a sliver of his broad chest, his sharp jawline and those brown eyes trained firmly on you already enough to drive you a little crazy with need for him.
“Miss me that much, huh?” he murmurs against your lips, one hand still in your hair while the other one trails down to the hem of your skirt and skims the backside of your thighs before he gives your ass a rough squeeze. You nod quickly as a breath leaves you, not quite a moan but enough to clearly show him the effect his touch immediately has on you.
“Desperate little thing,” he grins and adds a playful slap to your backside before pecking your lips again and leading you towards the waiting car.
He slips in beside you, his hand immediately finding your thigh again and gently rubbing against the bare skin, creeping below your skirt’s hem again and again as you take off in the direction of the airport.
You’re falling into your familiar routine with him, the first effects of seeing him and the flare of your chemistry with each other calming down a little and allowing you to actually talk with him like a normal person, not a lovesick teenager. You’re filling each other in on the few weeks since you last saw each other, the little occurrences that you wanted to tell him about but didn’t have the opportunity to at the time. He’s not much of a texter and you understand that; he’s busy with his job and his family whose existence you still need to keep reminding yourself of.
His large hand doesn’t leave your thigh once throughout the drive, keeping a hold on you that feels especially possessive whenever his grip tightens. At the airport he grabs both of your suitcases and purposefully strides off, leaving you to walk beside him with nothing but your little purse. It’s not a grand gesture by any means, but still, no one has ever taken care of things for you like this and your want for him is bubbling inside of you.
He drops your baggage off at check-in and hands you your boarding pass. You can’t help the squeal that you let out when your eyes find the destination and you excitedly throw your arms around him.
“Are you serious? How did you know that I always wanted- But Dave, that’s SO much, I can’t have you pay for all this, I-“
He shushes you gently, though you can tell that he’s clearly pleased with how happy you are about where you’re going. He presses a kiss to the crown of your hand and rubs his hands over your shoulders.
“Of course you can. I wanted to do something nice for you, sweetheart, you’ve been so stressed out lately. And I-,” he trails off, looking almost a little bashful, “I wanted to spend my time off with you, without interruptions, you know.”
You think that he wants to add more, but he doesn’t, his expression slightly regretful like he accidentally said too much already. He barely verbalizes his feelings and you don’t push it.
“Thank you Dave, it’s- thank you. I really appreciate it.”
You lean up on your tiptoes and kiss him softly, trying to convey what you feel but can’t put into words. How you’re not even there yet and it’s already more than anyone has ever done for you. How ‘I wanted to spend my time off with you’ has butterflies erupting in your stomach, no matter how hard you try to suppress them. How it has you wondering if maybe, just maybe, you might be more for him than just the girl that he’s fucking on the side because his marriage is shitty. How much you wish that you were.
But you don’t have time to ponder all this because he possessively wraps an arm around your shoulder and leads you off towards security control, then to the gate where he gets you your favorite Starbucks without even asking for your order, and onto the plane, where he lets you have the window seat and his hand finds its way back onto your thigh.
You brought a book to read on the flight but you can’t make it through one page without losing your focus. Dave’s hand keeps climbing higher and higher, alternating between gripping your inner thigh tightly and drawing featherlight circles on the soft skin, and the heat that had been smoldering within you since you first laid eyes on him today is slowly but steadily becoming too much to bear.
Dave seems annoyingly unaffected, his face as composed as ever as he asks questions about your book, and you know that he notices the way you’re squirming in your seat, and how much he’s enjoying the fact that he’s the one to make you act like this.
You’re in the middle of a sentence when his fingers suddenly move all the way up your thigh and brush lightly against the fabric of your underwear. It’s a barely-there touch, but you’re so wound up that it’s enough to cause you to interrupt yourself with a loud gasp. He retracts his hand the tiniest bit, still hovering between your thighs, and tuts at you.
There’s a dark glint in his eyes that hasn’t been there moments before. You know this look and it takes everything in you to not clench your thighs together in anticipation of what’s to come. He raises an eyebrow, the condescension written clear on his face and his voice a low rumble, quiet enough for only you to hear.
“Shhh, sweetheart. Wouldn’t want everyone on here to know how much of a slut you are for me, now would we? Huh?”
He pinches the soft flesh on your inner thigh roughly when you don’t answer fast enough and you bite your lip, suppressing the whine that is threatening to come out of you.
“N-no…” you whisper and Dave arches his eyebrow even higher, looking at you expectantly. You gulp.
“No, sir.”
A small smile plays around his lips and he places a kiss on your cheek. “Good girl,” he mutters and his hand creeps up again until he’s rubbing against your panties, which you know are absolutely soaked by now. Your hips chase his touch and he chuckles darkly as he withdraws his fingers, completely this time, until he’s holding them up to your face. You can tell that the fingertips are shiny with the arousal that leaked through the fabric and you feel yourself blushing.
“Lick it off,” he demands, and your eyes widen. “H-here?” you dare to ask. His gaze hardens.
“You wanna talk back to me?” His voice is calm, but you can sense the tension that’s rolling off of him. You should be disgusted, both by his request and the way that he’s talking to you, but you’re not. This is how you want him, how you crave him.
You shake your head hastily, acutely aware that questioning him was probably enough to get you into serious trouble later on. The thought sends another wave of desperate arousal through you.
“Then lick. It. Off. I’m not gonna tell you again.”
His tone is clipped, his face a hard mask, but your eyes flick down momentarily and the growing bulge in his pants tells you that he’s not as unaffected by the situation as he wants you to believe. You train your eyes back to his face and hold his gaze as you lean forward and obediently clean his fingers with tiny kitten licks. His jaw tenses as he finally draws his fingers back from your tongue and runs them across your cheek, smearing the traces of your spit there.
A small whine slips out of your throat as you feel fresh wetness flooding your panties and he grins before he kisses you again, murmuring a “Good girl” against your lips. He leans back into his seat, his hand finding an almost innocent position close to your knee.
“Why don’t you read a little more, sweetheart? We’ll be there soon.”
He flashes you a smile that could pass as genuine but you catch the glint in his eyes as he clocks your dazed expression and your slightly parted lips. You nod dumbly and pick the book back up, but not a single word that you read actively registers in your mind.
You try catching glances at Dave, until by the fourth time, he pinches your chin between his fingers and turns your head back forward. “I said, read,” he murmurs into your ear. You know he gets off on this stuff, giving you stupid little orders. And on the fact that you let him. That you get off on it, too.
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Your arrival happens in a blur. Dave leads you off the plane and through the smallest airport you’ve ever been to. Your brain is still a bit muddled from the unsatisfied arousal he’s ignited in you and now you’re excitedly turning your head left and right, trying to get in as many impressions as you possibly can. You’re not paying close attention to what’s happening and you’re thankful for the way Dave is taking charge without question. You’re happy to link you fingers through his and let him lead you wherever you need to go.
He retrieves your luggage, walks you out of the airport and to a waiting car. You spend the drive staring out of the window, your eyes wide, taking in all the beauty around you. It’s like you’ve arrived in literal paradise. You tell Dave as much and he chuckles, lifting your hand up to his mouth and pressing a gentle kiss against your knuckles. The unexpectedly sweet gesture has you blushing and a soft smile plays around his lips.
The hotel is, quite frankly, insane. If you had been worried about the amount of money that he’s spent on this trip before, it pales in comparison to how you’re feeling now. The building is nestled against the foot of a mountain, lush green trees surrounding the front and the road leading up to the entrance, while it opens up to a small, private bay where turquoise waves calmly roll up against the whitest sand you’ve ever seen.
There’s glass walls everywhere, giving you an almost 360° view as you step into the lobby. You know that you’re gaping and Dave actually laughs at your expression as he walks you up to the reception desk to check in. You’re not listening closely, too busy taking in your surroundings and convincing yourself that this is your real life and not some extremely realistic daydream that you’re having while sitting at your work desk.
Dave finishes up and wraps an arm around your shoulders to lead you to the elevators, stepping inside and pressing the top button. The doors slide closed and you can barely think about the fact that you’re apparently staying on the top floor before you’re being whirled around and end up with your front pressed against the elevator wall with Dave’s hands roughly shoving up your skirt until your ass is exposed to him.
Your surprised giggle morphs into a moan as his hand comes down hard to slap it, before gripping the flesh so roughly that it borders on painful. He presses his body up against yours and captures your lips in a sloppy kiss as his other hand slides up to cup your breasts over your tank top.
“Dave- we can’t-,” you gasp just as the elevator comes to a halt and dings. He growls and flicks your skirt back down, but keeps you pressed against his side as the doors slide open again. Thankfully there’s no other people around on this floor to witness your surely utterly disheveled state.
The dark glint is back in his eyes as he drags you along to your room number. He stops in front of the door and turns you towards him, his eyes trained on your face as he stares you down. His voice is low, his tone calm and controlled, but somehow it’s more threatening than if he shouted at you.
“You think you get to tell me what we can and can’t do? You think that’s for you to decide?” His hand grabs your face, his fingers digging into your cheeks, and you whimper. “N-no sir, I’m sorry, I just thought-“ He slaps your cheek, not hard enough for it to hurt, but enough to shut you up. Enough to remind you of your place in this dynamic. Your eyes flicker around hastily, your mind acutely aware of the fact that you’re in a public setting and that someone could walk in on this at any time. His hold returns your face, forcing you to look at him again.
“You don’t think, sweetheart. I decide and you listen, isn’t that right? If I want you to show off that slutty little ass of yours for everyone to see, then that’s what you’ll do.”
You nod to your best ability with his hand still grasping your face, mumbling another, “I’m sorry, sir.” You can barely think, the heat between your thighs almost making your legs buckle at this point. His thumb moves to play with your bottom lip and a cruel smirk grows on his face.
“You will be, doll. This is the third time you’ve disrespected me today. Looks like you’re in for a rough night, huh?”
“Yes, sir.” You can’t help the way you subconsciously bite your lip and you know that your desire is written all over your face, your pupils probably blown wide and your cheeks hot.
“Christ,” he chuckles and seals your lips with another kiss, “you’re a fucked up little thing.” You can only nod, prompting another laugh from him.
He steps up beside you and digs a keycard out of his pocket, holding it up against the door that responds with an affirmative beeping sound and a lock clicking. He pushes the handle down and swings the door open, holding it for you, a hand on the small of your back as you tentatively take a few steps inside.
The gasp you let out now isn’t fueled by your arousal, which is momentarily forgotten, but by your utter inability to believe what you’re seeing. You’re standing in a small hallway which opens up into a gigantic living room that’s probably bigger than your entire apartment and completely lined with glass walls, revealing a balcony and the shimmering sea several floors below you. You slowly walk to the adjoining bedroom that houses the easily biggest bed you’ve ever seen and a continuation of the glass walls. From what you can see, the en-suite bathroom features a lot of white marble.
You turn back to Dave, who has followed you silently and seems to expectantly take in your every reaction. “You’re crazy,” you tell him and he grins as you struggle for words. “This is- it’s so expensive, it’s- it’s too much, really. You’re crazy,” you repeat and he walks up to you to take your hands. His thumbs rub little circles over the skin and he smiles softly.
“As I said, I wanted to do something nice for you. You deserve it, sweetheart, you do.”
“But- but it’s-,” you trail off, mortified to realize that your bottom lip is trembling and your eyes are getting wet. You’re not going to cry in front of Dave, not because of a stupid hotel room. More like a fucking suite, your brain unhelpfully provides and your lip trembles harder. Dave quickly wraps his arms around your shoulders, his eyes searching your face.
“But it’s what?” he implores, his features displaying a look of such genuine concern that you’re pretty sure you’ve never seen on him before. “Sweetheart, do you not like it?”
You shake your head, trying to think of some way to explain that doesn’t make you seem totally pathetic. “It’s-,” you draw a deep breath, “it’s just- this is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me. Like, ever. I just can’t believe you would- for me…” You trail off, not sure how to explain that you can’t grasp why he would be willing to spend this amount of money on you. “What I mean to say is, it’s beautiful. Just- thank you. Really, thank you.”
You smile at him and the relief is incredibly evident on his face before he pulls you into a hug, his arms engulfing you, one hand stroking you head softly. For once, his hands don’t wander down your body, he just holds you tight and you allow yourself to think that you could get used to this.
You feel awkward after your little breakdown, but Dave doesn’t mention it again. He lets you traipse around the suite to explore and unpack and follows you when you step out onto the balcony where you inhale deeply, enjoying the salty air and the view down to the bay. You think that it might be the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen in your life and you flash a beaming smile at him.
“You like it?” he checks again and you nod eagerly. “Good,” he mumbles and steps up behind where you’re leaning against the railing, one of his arms finding its way around your middle and his head resting on your shoulder. “That’s good.”
You stay like that a little while, taking in the scenery in front of you in peaceful silence, listening to the sound of the waves that roll against the shore and watching as the sun is sinking lower, a soft golden light spreading out across the sky and reflecting in the water.
Eventually, one of his hands slowly starts gliding up your torso. He cups your breast and his fingers graze your quickly pebbling nipple. You moan quietly and instinctually push your hips back against his crotch and the growing hardness there, which causes him to chuckle as he bends down to run his lips over your neck, leaving small kisses and bites on the sensitive flesh.
You’ve been riled up and let back down so many times today that you feel a bit crazed at this point, the need for him between your legs downright painful as you grind your hips against him and another desperate moan escapes you. “Dave, please… I need you.” Your head falls back against his chest and his other arm loops around your middle, pressing you against him as he tuts softly.
“So needy that you’re forgetting all your manners, huh?”
He pinches your nipple, hard, before his hand sneaks higher and loosely wraps around your throat. The anticipation of what is -hopefully- finally about to happen has you feeling lightheaded. You don’t care that you’re outside, that anyone could look up and easily spot you on the balcony, you would let him fuck you right there, as long as he just finally fucks you at all. You haven’t given him an answer and the hold around you throat tightens. Not enough for any real pressure, but enough to remind you of the power he holds over you.
“Please, sir,” you whine and he chuckles again.
“Not yet, doll,” he whispers into your ear and his hand leaves your throat, then he turns you around until you’re face to face. You can see that he wants you too, it’s written on his features clear as day, and you can barely fathom his level of self-restraint right now. You open your mouth, ready to beg again, ready to beg for anything to relieve the throbbing pain between your thighs, but he shakes his head curtly and even in your lust-filled haze, you know better than to keep going and shut your mouth again.
He grins at your obedience and gives your lips a quick kiss. “Good girl. You’ll get everything you want soon enough, don’t worry. Just gotta be patient a little more, okay?” You nod, and dazedly let him take your hand and lead you back into the bedroom. “But first, we’re gonna have a nice dinner. Think you’re gonna need the energy, doll.” His grin turns downright feral and a small shudder runs through you. “Show me what pretty things you packed, yeah?”
You hum your agreement and turn to rummage through the closet, pick out a dress and fresh underwear and wander off into the bathroom. You half-expect him to stop you and make you change in front of him, but he doesn’t say a word. Maybe seeing you naked would be even too much for his restraint right now.
You change into the dress; it’s one of the new ones that you bought only last week while daydreaming about how Dave would take it off of you. It’s a short silk dress, dark red and with an open back that basically only consists of a several straps that form a loose pattern over your skin, which is why you forego a bra and only pull on a black thong, a lacy, barely there scrap of fabric. You also redo your makeup, adding a lipstick in a shade that matches the dress and freshen up your hair, then step out into the bedroom again.
Dave is still wearing the black slacks that he wore all day, but seems to have changed into a new, creamy white dress shirt, while you were busy in the bathroom. The top three buttons are open, which is one more than usual, exposing more of his broad chest than you’re used to and you know that you’re wearing an expression of awe on your face. He’s so beautiful. He always is, he’s stupidly attractive, really, but it’s hitting you especially hard right now, in these new surroundings and with the prospect of having him all to yourself for one whole week.
He’s eyeing you as well, his gaze roaming hungrily over your body. You become acutely aware of just how short the dress is, how much of your naked skin is on display. You like your body, and you’re not ashamed of showing it off, but this place is fancy. You know you look good, but suddenly, you feel a bit awkward. “Is- is this okay? Because, I-,” you stammer a little, “I didn’t expect this kind of hotel and you said- you said you wanted slutty, so…” You trail off, biting you lip nervously.
Dave’s gaze softens. It’s giving you whiplash, how quickly he switches between the domineering, controlled, sexually charged persona that he’s displaying around you most of the time, and this sweeter, caring side. The side that wants to do something nice for you. He takes a step towards you.
“Turn around for me, sweetheart.”
You do, giving him a little twirl before turning back around and meeting his gaze. He looks… you don’t know how to describe it. The hunger for you that you’re familiar with is there, but it’s also something else, something… more. “You look perfect,” he assures you and you can’t help but believe him. Then he continues, “take off your underwear.” You blink at him and he cocks an eyebrow. “Wouldn’t want any panty lines when you’re looking so gorgeous with that pretty dress.”
You know fully well that the tiny thong that you’re wearing isn’t leaving any panty lines, but you also know better than to argue. The thought of having nothing to protect your modesty under the very short hem of your dress makes you feel exposed, a little uneasy, which is probably exactly what he wants. Always testing your limits, always looking to see how far he can push you, how far you’d go to please him.
You slide your thong off and make to toss it in the direction of your suitcase, but he clicks his tongue and holds his hand out towards you. You put it into his waiting hand and he stuffs it into the pocket of his pants. You suppose that he’s planning something and that you’ll get to know about it when he wants you to, which isn’t now, so you keep your mouth shut and step closer to him. “Dinner?” you ask softly and lean on your tiptoes to kiss him. He returns the kiss, his tongue entering your mouth swiftly, giving you a taste of how much he wants you, before he pulls back and grabs your hand instead, leading you out of the suite and back to the elevator.
It’s just the two of you when you get on, but two floors down, you’re being joined by an elderly couple who you greet politely. As soon as their backs are turned to you, Dave’s hand is under your dress, running a finger through your slick folds. You manage to swallow your surprised gasp, but flinch slightly, and you see him smirk out of the corner of your eye. He slides his finger up and down your slit, brushing your already oversensitive clit a few times, and you bite down hard on your lip to keep the sounds inside that threaten to spill out of you.
When the elevator finally stops, he withdraws his hand and waits until the couple is a few steps away from you, until he leans down to whisper in your ear, “Good girl, learned your lesson I see. Now, what do you say?”
“Thank you, sir,” you breathe, your legs a bit wobbly and your arousal already leaking out of you.
“That’s right.” He pats your ass in a sort of condescending appreciation and you follow him into the dining area.
The hotel’s restaurant is located on the first floor, a beautiful, light-filled space that opens onto a big terrace which seems to float over the ocean and gives you a gorgeous view of the sunset’s colors that have become even more intense since you left your room. You’re being led to a small table for two and you gape at the view, causing Dave to laugh at you again, but it’s a warm laugh, that feels like he’s genuinely happy about how much you’re enjoying yourself.
You try reading through the menu, but you know maybe half of the things that are on there, much less how anything tastes or what you would prefer. You shoot Dave a sort of helpless look and he grins. “Want me to order for you?” he asks and you nod gratefully, trying not to feel embarrassed about how out of your depth you are. He orders something, along with a bottle of red wine, which you very much appreciate. You don’t know much about wine, but this one tastes really good. It turns out that he ordered some kind of fish for you, that you still have no idea how to pronounce right, but now you know that it’s freaking delicious. You tell Dave as much and he gives you another smile that seems much too soft and overwhelmingly right at the same time.
Dinner with him is much easier than you had anticipated. Apart from your excitement about the whole trip, you had been a little nervous about spending an entire week with him, having to make much more conversation than you usually do. It’s not that you never talk, but sooner or later, you end up naked with him whispering filth into your ear. You don’t go out on hour long dates, maybe a drink at a bar, but no big dinners and extensive talks. Until now.
Now you know that he’s a great listener, making you feel heard and understood, never once giving you the impression that you’re boring him. You also learn more about him, about his past, though he stays vague about his current job and the situation with his family. But it’s nice, being with him like this. Another thing that you could get used to, but that’s also another thought to shove into some far away corner of your mind. Be thankful for what it is, don’t become greedy for more, you tell yourself.
After two glasses of wine and a dessert that you could have died for, watching the sun set over the ocean until the night sky took over, you’re buzzing with happiness, but also excitement for the next part of the evening. The whole dinner was better than you could have imagined, but you have also been turned on for hours, with the man that you want right in front of you. When Dave finally stands up and pulls your chair out for you, you all but jump up and flit to his side. He chuckles and looks at your eager face. “Don’t get too excited, sweetheart. Tonight isn’t gonna be all that fun for you.”
The dark glint in his eyes is back and you’re subconsciously clenching your thighs together. The simple thought of what he might do to you is enough to push the arousal that has been simmering inside of you to the forefront of your mind again. You’re amazed how quickly he can sink back into that domineering character that could make you do almost anything with a simple snap of his fingers. He wasn’t like that at dinner, he didn’t once give you the impression that you’re below him or that he doesn’t respect you, separating this sexual dynamic that you’ve established from other parts of your interactions with clean precision.
He leads you out of the restaurant, his fingers grazing the bare skin on your back and you’re once again reminded that you’re completely bare beneath the skimpy dress that you’re wearing. His hand dips lower, playing with the hem that feels like it’s barely covering your ass. Goosebumps are forming on you lower back and your thighs and he chuckles darkly.
He keeps playing with your dress during the elevator ride, his fingers sliding underneath and grazing your ass repeatedly, until you’re fully riled up again. You’re a little nervous now. He promised to be rough several times today and you don’t doubt that he will. You’re excited as well, you want him rough, crave his control over you, but still…
He takes out the key card and opens the door as you follow him quietly, waiting for instructions. You can feel the tension rolling off of him. As soon as the door clicks shut, he’s on you, crowding you back against it, his hands grabbing your wrists and pulling them up above your head while he leans down to capture your waiting lips.
The kiss is messy, all teeth and tongues as he devours your mouth, towering over you and keeping your wrists fixed to the door while his whole body is pressing into yours. You arch into him, helplessly trying to get him closer as you moan into his mouth when he bites at your lower lip, keeping it in between his teeth as he pulls back a little before letting it go. You whine, the quick stab of pain transforming into pleasure and traveling straight to your pussy, which causes you to spread your legs wider and grind your hips against him.
He gathers both your wrists in his large hand, still pressing them against the wall above your head, and lets his other hand roam over your body, grabbing at your waist, bunching up the dress there. “Looked so good tonight, all dolled up in your pretty dress…” he murmurs with his lips now dragging against the soft skin of your neck, occasionally nipping and sucking at the skin, “and all this just for me, sweetheart?” He bites down right below your ear and your hips buck against him.
“Yes, yes sir, fuck…”
Your breath catches in your throat when he abruptly pulls the neckline down to expose your breasts and scratches his fingernails over your nipples. He pinches one hardened bud between his nails and pulls slightly before he lets go and watches how the flesh bounces back, then he repeats the motion on the other side. You’re gasping, tears are welling up in your eyes, it hurts, but it hurts so good, your pussy is completely soaked and you just want him to finally, finally fill you up.
Then he steps back, his jaw flickers as he watches you, still pressed against the door, panting softly and with a dazed expression on your face.
“Get on your knees.”
You get down immediately, hoping against hope that maybe he’ll let you come sooner when you’re being good now. He allows himself a cold smile at your eagerness and steps closer until you have to crane your neck to look up at him. He opens his belt and slacks in sure, controlled movements, the only evidence of his own need for you being the massive bulge that’s right in front of your face. He doesn’t waste time, shoving his pants and underwear down in one move and letting his cock spring free.
You gasp quietly, your mouth opening on its own accord at the sight of his massive length and you look up at him hungrily. “Open wide,” he tells you softly, almost gently and you obey, sticking your tongue out and watching mesmerized as he lets his tip rest on your tongue for a few moments. He pulls back slightly, smearing a mix of your saliva and his pre-cum across your cheeks, then slapping you with his cock, which causes you to moan. “Filthy little thing,” he murmurs and sinks into your wet mouth in one hard thrust.
You gag almost immediately, your throat contracting around him and he groans as he grabs your head and holds you still. Tears well up in your eyes and you already feel lightheaded from the lack of oxygen. He finally lets go and you desperately suck in a lungful of air before he starts thrusting into your mouth again, hitting the back of your throat every time and causing you to choke around him. The way he pushes you around, uses you for his own pleasure has a new rush of wetness flooding your pussy and you’re itching to touch your clit, just a little bit.
He notices how you’re squirming beneath him, how one of your hands is inching closer between your legs and he stops his thrusts, his cock still taking up most of your mouth, and looks down at your face.
“You wanna touch yourself? You like having your face fucked like a whore?”
You nod as best as you can and hum desperately, gazing up at him through your tear-soaked lashes. He furrows his brow, looking down at you with that wicked glint in his eye. “You know how to ask properly, I didn’t hear you sweetheart,” he tells you, sinking even deeper into your throat and you fight to suppress another gag. You hum again and look at him pleadingly; he’s well aware that you can’t ask him anything with his cock filling your throat like this. “Guess you don’t want to, then,” he shrugs, “hands behind your back. You’re not touching that pussy without my permission.” You whine, your clit throbbing painfully for attention, but you obediently cross your wrists at the small of your back.
“Poor thing,” he coos and pats your head in mock-sympathy, then moves his hand back to hold you in place as he pounds into your throat with renewed force. You gag around him, tears flowing all over your face and drool streaming down your chin and onto your tits. He sinks into you again and again, holding you up by your head and making you sputter around him, desperate to somehow draw air into your lungs. “Take it,” he growls, “take it like the little slut you are, down on the floor for me. That’s how you like it, don’t you?” He finally pulls out of you and slaps your cheek when you don’t respond immediately. “Don’t you?!”
“Y-yes sir,” you rasp, gasping for breath, tears and spit still all over your face.
He crouches down cups the cheek that he just slapped, his thumb rubbing at the tear-stained skin under your eye. You’re positive that you look a mess, mascara running down your cheeks and your dark lipstick smeared all around your mouth, mixing with your spit. Your hands are still behind your back, the arch in your body making you push your chest out and putting your tits on full display for him. He starts toying with your nipples again and you want to cry. An orgasm feels so close, yet so far away. You feel like you could come with just a few strokes on your clit, but you have no idea how much longer he will string you along until he finally deems it enough.
“You’ve been such a good girl, sweetheart. So patient all day, I bet you’re dripping all down those pretty legs right now, aren’t you? So desperate and ready for me, yeah?” His voice is a low growl in front of you and you whine your agreement. It’s not enough for him. “Say it. Tell me how desperate my little slut is to finally get fucked.”
You hesitate, your eyes dropping to the ground in front of you. “I-,” you gasp as he roughly grabs your chin and forces you to look at him, waiting for you to do as he said. “I need you to fuck me, so badly. I’ll be so good, I promise, just p-please, sir,” you whine, feeling pathetic, your voice trembling and your face burning. No matter how many depraved things he gets you to do with him, for him, talking like this still gets you embarrassed. Which is precisely why he makes you do it.
“And what are you?”
You feel your face heating up. “Your s-slut, sir.”
He grins as he adds another slap against your cheek. “Damn right you are.”
He straightens back up, tugs himself back into his pants and looks down at you. “Bedroom.” You scramble to get up, but he shakes his head and lands a hand on your shoulder, pushing you back down again. “No no. You’re gonna crawl.” You sink back on your hands and knees, the amount of embarrassment and arousal that you’re feeling making you dizzy, and you look up at him shyly.
He nods approvingly and bends down to tug your dress up higher until your bare ass and pussy are on full display. “Good girl, right where you belong. Off you go, come on.” You bite your lip and start crawling towards the bedroom, his footsteps right behind you and you can feel his eyes drinking you in as another groan grumbles in his chest.
You stop in front of the bed and give him a questioning look. He gestures for you to stand up and you get back to your feet with trembling knees. He steps closer, his hands ghosting over your shoulders and toying with the straps of your dress.
“Such a pretty dress,” he murmurs as he slides them off your shoulders, the garment slipping down your body, leaving you bare except for the heels that you’ve been wearing all evening. You’re painfully aware of the power dynamic between you, how you’re completely naked and at his mercy while he’s still fully dressed. His hands roam over you, leaving goosebumps in their wake and come to rest at your hips. He squeezes the flesh there, then turns you around until you’re facing the bed.
One hand reaches up to your neck and he bends you over until your upper body is resting on the mattress, your back arching and your ass up in the air for him. He takes a step back and lands a slap on your backside without warning. You yelp, your body instinctively lurching forward and your legs shaking with the strain of keeping your balance in your heels. He notices, of course, and says, “You better keep those pretty legs steady, doll,” before reaching forward and massaging your stinging flesh. You hum, trying to get your muscles to cooperate, but your legs won’t stop trembling.
Dave’s touch leaves your body and he sits down on the bed beside your head, his eyes searching your face. “What’s your color, sweetheart?” he inquires, softly stroking your cheek. “Green,” you answer without hesitation. It has already been a lot and you’re sure that he’s nowhere near finished with you, but you like it like this. You crave it. He nods, his touch still gentle on your face.
“And what do you say when you need me to stop?”
“Red,” you whisper, leaning into his touch. “Good girl,” he murmurs and leans forward to press a kiss to your cheek, before he stands up again and disappears from your field of view.
“So,” his voice drawls from behind you, “I think I’ll give you twenty-five tonight, how’s that sound, sweetheart?” You gulp, but know that there’s only one acceptable answer.
“S-sounds good, sir. Thank you,” you breathe, the apprehension clear in your voice, and he laughs quietly.
“And what did you do to deserve this?”
You bite your lip again, struggling to think through the fog of arousal clearly enough to give him an answer that he’ll be satisfied with. “I d-didn’t listen and talked- talked back at you, and…” you trail off when his hand dips between your legs, swirling through the wetness there before retreating again. You inhale sharply and continue, “…and that was disrespectful. I’m sorry, sir, it won’t- it won’t happen again.”
“We’ll see about that,” Dave mumbles and his fingertips ghost over your lower back. “But that was a nice little speech, sweetheart. Starting now, you’re gonna count them out for me, yeah? Lose count and we’ll start over.” You nod and your hands grip the sheets as you try bracing yourself.
The first slap meets your flesh, not as hard as you know he can go, but hard enough to get a small scream out of you. “One,” you force yourself to say and he hums appreciatively, before landing the second slap exactly on the same spot as the first one. “T-two,” you whine, his handprint searing on your skin.
You make it until eleven before your legs give out, your trembling muscles collapsing under the task of keeping you upright in your heels while your body is scrambling to get away from the oncoming assault on your ass cheeks. You fall forward, your knees hitting the mattress right after Dave’s hand connected with your backside again. “Twelve, I’m sorry, sir,” you choke out.
“It’s okay,” he assures you, stepping closer and running his hands soothingly over your back as he searches your face, a look of soft concern on his face. “What’s your color, doll?”
“Green. Still- still green, sir,” you breathe out and you mean it. You feel like you’re on fire, but in the best way.
“Yeah?” he questions, “want me to continue?” and you nod your head eagerly. The concern washes away from his face, his jaw tensing and his eyes growing cold again. “Fucking masochistic little slut,” he growls and you moan, your walls desperately clenching around nothing.
He lets you stay with your knees on the bed, your ass still up high for him, until you’ve finally reached “twenty-five, t-thank you, sir.” You’re sobbing at this point, your skin feels raw where he hit you, but you’re also damn near delirious with want for him.
Dave strokes your skin gently, telling you what a good girl you’ve been and how proud he is of you, and you bask in his praise. Then his hand travels lower, slipping between your thighs until his fingers are running through your folds, feeling how soaked exactly his rough treatment has left you. “Fuck doll, you’re dripping. You really liked that, huh?” he murmurs as he pushes two of his thick fingers into you, sliding in easily and making you moan loudly.
He thrusts into your tight heat roughly, causing you to arch your back and spread your legs wider, your release so close that you can almost taste it. He keeps going until he feels you growing tighter, starting to clench around his fingers, and slides them out of you abruptly. You sob, feeling your orgasm subside again.
“I think you were about to come without permission, sweetheart. You just promised me you’d be good, didn’t you? Guess your greedy little cunt just can’t help herself, huh?”
You whimper an apology and receive another slap to your abused skin, causing you to jerk forward. “No doll, you stay right here. Give me your hands,” Dave’s stern voice orders from behind you. You let him take hold of your wrists, leaving you completely at his mercy in the position that you’re in, and he digs your panties out of his pants pocket, looping them around your wrists until they’re tightly secured.
When he’s satisfied with his work, you finally hear the rustling of him taking off his clothes. Without warning, you feel him swipe the head of his cock through your drenched folds, teasing you with the tip, grazing your clit and causing you to gasp, then sliding back until he’s prodding at your entrance. You whine loudly and try pushing your hips backwards, but his hold tightens around you, keeping you in position.
“Not so fast. Be a good girl and beg for it,” he requests, in a voice that still sounds so controlled, while you feel like you’re barely able to form words anymore. You’re not embarrassed anymore, the promise of his cock so close to where you want him wiping all inhibitions from your mind.
“Please sir, I need you so badly, please fuck me, I’ll do anything, just please…”
You feel pathetic begging like this, but you couldn’t care less. Dave lets out a strained groan behind you, and then he’s pushing into you in one strong thrust. It doesn’t matter how many times you’ve taken him or how wet you are, his size always stings at the first intrusion and you wail, your body being pushed forward by his movement and he grips your bound wrists, holding you steady as he starts pounding into you.
“So fucking tight and wet you little slut, fuck you take me so good, being such a good girl, fuck…” Now his voice sounds wrecked behind you and you moan loudly at his words and at the way he’s splitting you open. This is what you had been craving for hours, the feeling of him thrusting into you again and again, and you push your hips back to meet his thrusts, to get him even deeper.
One of his hands grips your hair and pulls, forcing you to arch your back even more and slightly shifting the angle where he’s pounding into you, hitting something so delicious inside of you that you almost come on the spot, your walls already fluttering around him, but you’re not allowed, your scrambled brain reminds you, you need…
“Please sir, I’m gonna come, can I please…” Your voice breaks off into a sob when his movements slow down and he pulls out of you, pushing you forward until you’re laying flat on the bed, and he starts working on releasing your bound wrists.
“Good girl, asking for permission,” he praises, “but you’re gonna look me in the face when I make you come tonight.”
He frees your wrists and turns you around so that you’re on your back, looking up at him through teary eyes, desperate for your release. “Poor thing,” he coos as he gets between your legs, placing his large hands on your thighs and spreading them wide. His cock nudges at your entrance but he doesn’t sink back into you, his gaze trained on your face and his hand wandering up to play with your bottom lip.
“Open wide,” he tells you and you obey, parting your lips and sticking your tongue out. His breath has turned heavy by now and he hovers over you, hungry eyes roaming over your face, your open mouth and your wet eyes. He draws back the tiniest bit, then he spits into your mouth, his saliva coating your tongue and you whine, the filth of the whole situation making your pussy clench once more.
“Keep it open, show me.”
You hold still, your mouth wide open, feeling his spit mixing with yours as you stare up at him, waiting for his next command. “Now swallow,” he finally says and you do, showing him your empty mouth afterwards and he grins. “Fuck, you’re such an obedient slut, being such a good girl for me. You’d do anything right now, wouldn’t you? Fucked all the thoughts out of that pretty little head, yeah?”
“Yes, anything,” you whimper, and he sinks his cock back into you without preamble. Your eyes widen at the sensation of being full again and the new angle, moans of his name falling from your mouth and you wrap your legs around him, grasping at his wide shoulders to hold onto something as he starts pounding into you again with raw strength.
One of his hands wraps around your throat, squeezing until you feel light-headed, intensifying the feeling of his deep thrusts into you. Pleading whispers leave your lips, but you don’t even know what you’re begging for anymore, if you want more, if you want him to stop.
His movements speed up even more, hitting spots inside of you that have you moaning and squirming underneath him and the hand on your throat travels down to your breasts, toying with your nipples, pinching and pulling and sending delicious waves of pain through you.
You’re so close again, when his hand slides down to rub at your clit, making you scream and throw your head back, your eyes pinched close. He grabs at your face and forces you to look at him.
“Oh no, you’re gonna look me in the eyes when I make you come, are you gonna come sweetheart?”, he growls. You whine and nod desperately, your eyes shining with tears. “Go ahead then, come for me, squeeze my cock like the good little whore you are.”
He swirls his thumb over your neglected clit once more, gives you a particularly hard thrust and your vision swims, your whole body tensing up before you bear down on him and fall apart. You’re clenching rhythmically around his cock as the orgasm tears through your body in pulsing waves and you’re pulling him over the edge with you as he climaxes with a deep moan, spilling his release inside of you.
You’re a trembling mess, your breath stuttering and your mind still caught up in a blissful haze, and you’re only vaguely aware of him collapsing beside you, but you register the tender kiss that he presses to your cheek before he gets up and retreats to the bathroom.
The next thing you feel is the bed dipping as he sits down beside you again and you slowly blink your eyes open. Maybe it’s the post-orgasmic bliss that you’re still lost in, but you think to yourself that he looks especially beautiful right now, his face relaxed with a small smile playing around his mouth, where the stubble of his beard is showing through at the end of the day, and with his brown eyes warm again now as he looks at you.
“May I?” he asks and holds up a damp towel. You nod, returning his smile and watching as he brings the towel down between your legs, cleaning you up and soothing your hot skin. He gently turns you over and spreads some kind of healing balm over your burning cheeks, careful not to touch you too roughly. He also cleans your face, his soft touches almost enough to lull you to sleep.
When he’s finished, he maneuvers you around, causing you to giggle, until you’re in the middle of the bed and he can pull the covers over you, sliding in beside you and wrapping his arm around your middle. You shuffle closer until you’re securely tugged into his side, your breath fanning against his broad chest.
“You good?” he asks, looking down at you and placing a kiss on your forehead. “Yeah,” you smile up at him and stretch to reach his mouth with your lips. He kisses you back, his hand coming up to play with your hair, and you smile even wider. As much as he likes to be rough with you, you think that what he actually needs, is the softness.
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Baby Daddy: Alimony
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BABY DADDY Part 1!
TW: Toxic!Rafe. Smut. Language. Degrading language. Breeding kink. Dom!Rafe. Daddy kink. Choking kink. Blade play.
SUMMARY: You believe you've finally gotten a step ahead over your toxic baby daddy. Foolish you…
WORD COUNT: 3000
*REQUESTED*
Anonymous asked
could there be a part 2 to baby daddy w rafe? 
Alimony 
He always had a way of winning. Poker. Business. His way into your sheets yet again. At least he had until lately. Excuses and appointments on your end had allowed you the chance to form some sort of dominance over your toxic situationship. And somehow beyond worry and former threats, your heels came to a click through his office on your most recent expression of altered submission. 
"Excuse me, you can't go in there-" His assistant called from behind her desk, desperate for you to obey or risk his wrath. For a moment, you couldn't help but wonder if she had been a replacement to some complaint her predecessor made against Rafe for misconduct. 
"Just a piece of advice…he's not worth the expensive perfume…" You explained as she blushed, the clear unbuttoned decolletage set in such a way to garner his focus as her intentions had been spoiled. Too much in shock to your audacity, you were allowed into his meeting without any further protest. 
"If we focus only on the west-" His words ceased immediately once his eyes fell to you. If not for the look of pride across your face, he would have believed that something happened to your shared offspring. For the absence of this, he simply tightened his jaw to wait for the reason for your presence. 
For the years he had bombarded you and infiltrated your life, you finally had the chance to return the unpleasant favor. Without a second thought, you set down the collection of bills before him with a glare of challenge cast in his direction. 
"If you weren't so busy buying expensive and inappropriate dinners for new assistants you'd know that you're three months late in alimony. Money needed to take care of your son." You spat as he didn't wear an expression of embarrassment, maybe awe, even arousal, but you hadn't been allowed the reaction you sought out. Because of this, you continued. 
"A lifestyle you demand he has. A private school. Expensive clothes and toys he'd be fine without. But since you won't let me raise him modestly…you pay for these…things I could without you…but you won't let me." 
"Excuse me, but this isn't the time or place to exercise your hormonal-" You narrowed your eyes towards the man who spoke against you. One Rafe told you enough about to offer a stain against his reputation amongst fellow colleagues. 
"How's your wife?" He cleared his throat before fixing his tie. 
"What does-"
"Does she know you have a proclivity for your assistant? Your male assistant-"
"Enough. My office. Five minutes." Rafe apologized on your behalf as you left the bills at your back before moving to his office. 
Set at the rim of the desk, your palms rested on the wooden edge as you were left in wait. Pictures of your son lay in pride on his desk along with one of you and him closer to his closed laptop. You couldn't help but feel warmth when on observation of the simpler time. A time before you really knew him and the poor excuse he had for a heart. 
"I've ruined men's lives for less than what you did…" 
"I'm not afraid of you, Rafe. I am tired of all of this…You dictate every aspect of my life with our son even though I am the one with him day in and day out. All of his doctor's appointments. Teaching him to read. Playdates. Sick days. When he broke his wrist last summer from being at the park with the nanny YOU were too busy eye-fucking to to notice!" He clenched his arms, your eyes drawn to the strain of fabric caused by his muscles. 
"So you're mad because I showed interest in someone else?"
"Are you really THAT much of a narcissist? Your son got hurt because you were reckless and put him as anything but a priority!"
He took a step closer to you, the entire collection of oxygen around you seemingly thinned as he drew a finger to his bottom lip. The signet ring on that leading finger forcing your focus to his lips. Those damn lips that held talent no man should be able to possess. The same talent that made you forgive him so many times before. At least long enough to give you both an orgasm. 
"I wasn't "eye-fucking" her-"
"I don't care what you call it Rafe, he got hurt because you were-"
"I was trying not to fuck you in the middle of that park in that goddamn sundress you know makes me hard enough to split you in half." He explained behind clenched teeth.
 "Looking at her was the only thing that kept me from looking at you. The only person I'll ever eye-fuck Because nobody compares to you. No matter how many girls I've tried to test that theory on…" He was now only a foot or so in front of you. 
"I told you you ever needed anything, you just ask. But you made a scene…" His hand was suddenly in the back of your hair. 
"So now you're going to make sure they hear what happens when you rival me." You were taken against the desk, palms forced at the surface. 
"Don't hurt my reputation, baby…scream for me like you always do and I might just let you come…" His hands were feverish and gluttonous to a competitive degree. Harsh but through as he reached within your house and directly beneath your bra. It took only one repressed moan and shuddering breath before he smirked at your cheek. He knew you wanted him. And he was shameless to broadcast the same need to you. 
A single scoff felt at your back and he pulled the straps to your shirt downwards until exposing your bra to him. 
"Now you didn't come here in my favorite bra just to talk…" You hesitated, unaware you had subconsciously dressed in his favored piece of lingerie. When you didn't respond, he turned you to face him, a letter opener set as a threat to your jaw. The life suddenly behind his eyes was frightening as it was only born from your fear. And yet, you were aware he wouldn't bring true harm to you. Not anymore than what he'd already done, anyhow. Your thighs aching at the thought of that very thing. 
"Anyone else were to talk to me like that and they would…" He paused. "Let's just say he wouldn't find it as pleasurable as I could make it for you…"
"I didn't come here for-"
"If your panties match this bra then you came here for exactly this." But as his hand rode into your pants, a violent unbuttoning of the closure and you gasped to the feeling of his fingertips against your naked clit. Not an ounce of fabric separating you. 
"No panties?" He scoffed. "Making it a bit too easy for me, baby…" He lowered the edge of the blade to your chest, teasing your nipple with its cold tip. First the left. Then the right. Circling it until lowering still. In the meantime, your breathing was sporadic to the crusade as your body shifted in accordance to the cold edge making contact. 
"Maybe it wasn't for you." You shot, some random surge of courage allowing you to rival him. 
"Don't ever say that shit to me again. YOU are for me. You can try to fuck anyone else and I promise you'll always be left wanting me. You know why, baby?" He suddenly took hold of the middle section of your bra to pull you closer to him. A gasp leaving your lips as he set the edge of the potential weapon to the fabric. 
"Because you love this." He sliced the fabric, exposing your breasts that he was quick to apprehend. But the blade continued lower until it teased the line of your parted jeans. 
"I-"
"Guess I need to prove it." Lowering to his knees, he pulled your pants to your knees before drawing the blade at an angle so it didn't cut you. 
"One wrong move and you'll bleed for me…You know I don't mind ." His eyes flickered with mischief as you breathed sharply. The contact of the blade at your sex made you shift. 
"You ever let anyone know how sweet this is…" He explained while pulling the blade to his tongue, a single lick of your excess removed, and rolling his eyes to your familiar taste. 
"I'll fuck you with this very blade so you can only be with me." You tensed at the thought. It was a threat. Not some attempt to entice you with dirty words. And he meant it. Every ounce of predatory dominance was always exercised with that promise. But this was sharper. Deeper. A vow of sorts, spoke on his altar of domineering existence. 
"Every time I want to be sweet to you…you open that pretty little mouth and make me want to come in it instead…Making you cry and plead…But today, you made a fatal error, baby. And now you're gonna make it up to me." He rose back over you. 
"You know you belong on your knees here in my office."
"I'm not fucking you, Rafe." He smirked and nodded. 
"You're right. I'm fucking you-" Distracted by his words you were taken aback by the sudden lift of your leg over the desk and his cock penetrating you with a cruel eagerness. And yet, you cried out for him as you always had. Only to return to that familiar hesitance. 
"I don't want you on your knees looking up at me, because I always forgive you too quickly. I want you to earn it. For embarrassing me. So it's only fair I do the same to you." He was harsh with his focused touch, exercising your erogenous zones with fervor as you refrained from rewarding him with any sound. Instead, you held your breath to suppress those moans so desperate to be released. 
"You can try to fight it all you want, baby. But your body is telling me just how much you missed me. How sorry you are-'"
"I'm not-" He silenced you by turning you into his mouth. His left hand came around your cheek, pressing you deeper into him as his tongue wrapped around yours. 
"The more you fight it, the harder you're gonna come. You're edging yourself baby…doing my work for me…" He spoke against your lips as he continued to pump you against the desk. The gift of his successes shook before you until a specific statue came to the floor to break. He smirked, falling into the illusion of your submission as he loosened his grip on your hand. 
It was just the window needed as you pushed him away from you and took the letter opener in hand. 
"I'm not some toy to you anymore! You don't get to decide anything."
"You gonna stab me? Yeah?" He tried for you but you only cocked your jaw. 
"Knees, Rafe. " You surprised him. "Make me come on your desk like you used to…" You smirked as you played with the tip of the blade. 
"All over those contracts you used to get so made you'd have to print again…only to fuck me over the copier…counting each page out as punishment…"
"You think-"
"Your name might be on that door. The lease to my apartment. Even following our son's name. But you don't own me, Rafe. You don't decide where I go or who I see. When I come or with you. I want this for me. So knees. Or I'll leave right now and you won't-" He rushed against you, a kiss to your lips as he gathered your face between your palms. The letter opener, thrown across the floor, where it became lost to some bookshelf as you watched him pull away just slightly. 
"There's that fire…"
"Shut up and make me come." He smirked before taking his hand to your neck. In the attempt made to keep dominance, you could only wrap your hand around his wrist as he pulled you to him. 
"You're right…" His middle finger came to your sex. "I might now own you. God knows you have your own opinions. But I own your body. Your moans. Your orgasm. Even the denial you have after you regret giving in to me…again…"
"You-"
A second finger set at a curve made you gasp in relief. 
"I own sex. With you. And I'll always make you mine. Make you come. Every time. And you show your ass like that again…I'll let them see it as I make it the darkest shade of red I can until you can't even sit." He scoffed. 
"How will you explain that to our son? Hmm? His mom's a whore who can't learn to keep her mouth shut but keeps her legs open for daddy? Mmm…I like the way that sounds…" 
He gripped your throat harder. "Call me it. I'll let you come. Just like you want. But call me it."
"Bastard." You shot as he kissed you sharply. 
"That's fine. I'll just take you how I want…" He pinned your back flat against the desk before thrust you down onto him. The fulfillment of his cock sending your eyes to an immediate roll as your back arched from his depth. 
"Not so dominant now with my cock deep enough to remind you how much you need it, yeah? Then fucking take it, baby…" Your fingers wrapped around the edge of the desk as he bowed into you. One harsh grasp to the back of your neck brought you into him as another held himself up from crushing you. It would only take until the third thrust before your reservation turned into the need for more as you wrapped yourself around him. Feet tied over his waist and your fingers pulling at his hair, he moaned into your kiss with approval. 
"Rafe-" 
"I know you're about to. Think I need to be warned after how many times?"
"No…I…I want more…" He smirked, kissing you once more before pressing your calf into his chest and holding you tightly. 
"That enough for you, yeah? Feel me that deep inside of you?" He hit his hand on the surface of the desk beside you. 
"Answer me!"
"Oh my God…" You only kissed him, softening his anger, but not his passion. "You feel so good…fuck me, Rafe…" His eyes rolled to your command. 
"Daddy…" you teased directly into his ear before nibbling on the lobe beneath as he unleashed himself into you. The desk at a threat to break as it even cried out beneath you. But as you moaned shamelessly beneath him his hand came around your mouth. A slip allowed by losing himself in the greed of your lower lips. 
"I thought you wanted them to hear me…"
"Nobody gets to hear you come but me." He lifted you off of the desk and onto the couch across the way until you straddled him. Without the need for guidance, you began a lace of bouncing and clenching as his fingers ate sharply into your hips. 
"Yes!" He belted behind clenched teeth. "My girl never forgot how to ride me…" You diverted the grip over his shoulders into that of the fabric behind him as he corrected you back to his skin. 
"It will hurt you."
"I want you to." He confessed, allowing you a chance to read beyond the lines of your toxic relationship, where sex governed and compassion was sparse. But in this moment, he became gentle. If he could even be such a thing, this was the closest you'd ever seen him. 
"I don't want to hurt you."
"I do. I want you to. Because I want to hurt you…" He explained with tears in his eyes as you kissed him sweetly, surprising him. 
"Then hurt me." He clenched his jaw, turning you onto your knees before pulling you back to face him. A smack to your ass and a vice if s grip made you wince as he repeated it twice over. 
"Just say it once. You don't have to mean it…just say you're mine…"
"I'm yours, Rafe…So fuck me like it…" He pounded into you, your body pinned between him and the arm of the chair as only his hand through your hair pulled him back. 
"Yes!" You chorused. 
"Oh shit…" He moaned for you, the desperate groan making your eyes roll in approval. 
"I wanna fuck it so deep inside of you that you get pregnant again-" Your eyes shot open. 
"Rafe-"
"Just one more time…You let me use every part of you to come…you were more horny than I was…" You hesitated. 
"Yep…one more time…"
"Rafe, no-"
"Yes baby…you're gonna be so fucking good again…so beautiful, so full…tits so fuckable…"
"Raaaaafe!" You whimpered. "Please!"
"If you don't want it, are you you clenching so hard? Hmm? Why are you so close to coming for me?"
"Because you're so deep…"
"Deep enough for you to give me another baby…come on…take it baby…" he pulled you back against him. One arm wrapped as a sash as he used the other at your clit. 
"You can come…I know I am…"
"Oh fuck!"
"Good fucking girl…oh yeah…oh you want it…say it…say you want my cum…say it!"
"Ah! I want it! Cum inside me, Rafe!"
"Yeah? Why?"
He smiled as you faced him. "Oh…tell me before I come…I'm close…you're too fucking tight…"
"That's fine…you're still gonna take every drop…" he thrust violently into you, as you belted and stiffened for him. 
"There…Now I'll forgive you for acting like such a little bitch…" he moved to kiss you but you moved away. 
"Don't be that way. You could have said no."
"I did…"
"Your body wanted it…I bet it still does…"
"Rafe…" He moved to his desk, pressing the intercom to his assistant. Pulling up the sleeves of his dress shirt you left loose and stretched, he kept his eyes to you. 
"Cancel the rest of today."
"Mister Cameron-"
"Thank you." He moved back to you. 
"Looks like you're mine for the rest of the day…" 
TAGLIST: @hopebaker @drewspisces @penny4yourthoughts @magnificantmermaid @pickingviolets @lovedetlost @trikigirl271 @maybankslover @slut4tangerine @slvtherinseeker @obxiskewl @bluesongbird @slut-era @ailee-celeste @camilynn @sweetestdesire @onmykneesforrafe @jjmaybanksangel @phildunphyisadilf @mashdan0916 @belcalis9503
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misshoneybee · 1 year
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˖  ࣪ 𖥔 𝐎𝐂𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐇 | 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𖥔 ࣪ ˖
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— ℳ𝒾𝓈𝓈ℋ𝑜𝓃𝑒𝓎ℬ𝑒𝑒'𝓈 𝒦𝒾𝓃𝓀𝓉𝑜𝒷𝑒𝓇 —
Pairing: Daddy!Andy Barber x Nanny!Reader Content Warnings: Daddy kink, ddlg undertones, somnophilia, dubious/non consent, age gap (Reader is early twenties, Andy is mid-forties), fingering, oral sex (f-rec), dirty talk, pet names (princess, sweetheart, baby), overstimulation, general smut bc this is kinktober so minors, dni!! Word Count: 4.7k  A/N: Here we are!!! This is my first Kinktober and I am nervous to write all these new kinks and characterizations but also incredibly excited. I'm so sorry that this was so delayed, my loves! Work has been hell for the past week but I've finally had time to proofread this. As always, I do my best to keep my reader as inclusive as possible but please let me know if there's anything I can do to improve upon it! There's no use of Y/N or anything else where you need to insert information to read just because that's my personal preference! Anyway, please enjoy and I'd adore some feedback, if anyone feels so inclined! Navigation: Masterpost | Playlist | Divider Credit | Kinktober Masterpost | October Fifteenth Summary: Working as the Barber family's nanny is a piece of cake, but what happens when the dad you've been tip-toeing around all year comes home late one night to find you asleep in his bed, wearing his favorite sweater?
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Although, you couldn’t exactly say that you loved your job, the accommodations and compensation made what little aggravation you faced in the course of a workday well worth it. While most students from your college town had picked up odd jobs in busy restaurants or quaint little shops, you’d become a live-in nanny for the Barber family. It was a perfect situation really—your tuition was covered by scholarships, you only worked in the afternoons and evenings, you didn’t have to pay for housing, the ‘work’ was a piece of cake, and your employer was the hottest man you'd ever fucking seen.
Jacob was a pretty quiet kid—and maybe a bit too old to have a nanny, at the age of thirteen—so you were essentially just paid to ensure he didn’t sneak out of the house and ate a somewhat balanced dinner on the nights that his dad got home late from work or other engagements. The family unit was small with only Jacob and his father and, now by extension, you. 
District Attorney Andy Barber had quietly left his wife a year earlier and moved he and his son away from their small hometown to start over just as you’d arrived in the city to begin your third year of school. You’d met in the aisles of a dark liquor store as you stood in front of the vast selection of wine, teeth digging into your lower lip as your eyes scanned all the labels on the red varietals: merlot, cabernet sauvignon, Malbec, pinot noir, Sangiovese. 
Seeing your hesitation at making a selection, he’d easily swooped in and found you something sweet, saying it reminded him of you with a charming grin. It was an unassuming bottle with a minimalistic label—a vin santo that flooded your tongue with a sweetness that reminded you of warm summer days and cherry jam. It was perfect—and that was where it all began.
You’d crossed paths in your small college town several more times and now, more than a year later, you’d settled into the Barber’s lives seamlessly. The big colonial house, tucked away in the gated neighborhood, was quiet as the clock approached one in the morning. Andy had needed to attend some gala, to rub shoulders and grease palms and do all other sorts of lawyerly things, so after dinner, you had taken it upon yourself to clean up around the house after Jacob had gone to bed.
The kitchen had been cleaned from dinner you’d made, the dishes had been washed and put away, and you’d finished the laundry. All of the linens had been tucked away in the hall closet but you found yourself hesitating at the door of Andy’s empty bedroom as sleepiness began to sink into your bones. There were just a few shirts that needed to be hung in his closet. You rocked back and forth on your heels, deliberating silently as you propped the basket on your hip, looking up and down the silent, empty hall as if he’d appear and chastise you for even entertaining the idea. He’d never said his room was off-limits to you; in fact, Andy had always told you to make yourself at home. 
It would only be for a few minutes anyway.
Stifling a yawn, you quietly opened the heavy, wooden door and slipped into the dark room. Flipping the light-switch turned on a lamp, dimly bathing the unfamiliar space in a warm, comforting light. It looked just like you’d imagined it—not that you’d spent a long time picturing your employer’s room. 
No—never. 
Certainly not when he came down to the kitchen on Saturday mornings in worn flannel pajama pants and made coffee for the two of you to share in silence as Jacob slept in, and definitely not when you lay in your bed, in the room just next door to his, with your fingers slipping beneath the silky fabric of your panties as you remembered the feeling of his eyes on you from across the dinner table.
Feeling your face grow warm as you shoved those thoughts away, you quickly opened the door to his closet. It was as organized as you’d have thought it to be. The hangers and collars were all turned in a uniform direction, the shirts organized by shade and hue from dark to light. Humming softly to yourself, you finished the chore quickly before something on the foot of his pristinely made bed caught your eye. 
The fall air that had invaded the New England coast had brought a chill, and along with it, a shift in his wardrobe. It was a deep, forest green sweater of his that had silently become your favorite item in his closet. Cautiously, you picked up the article and bit your lip to stop a quiet sigh from escaping your lips. It was soft and you’d imagined yourself running your hands over his chest while he wore it dozens of times.
The clock on his bedside table read just after one; when Andy had left that afternoon, he’d mentioned that it would be close to two before he’d return home from Boston. You knew exactly what you wanted. Padding softly across the room, you closed the door with an almost silent ‘click’ of the latch. You couldn’t help it; you could feel your heart beating against your breastbone and the way your panties had grown damp at just the thought.
There was a bit of a thrill as you slipped out of your ratty collegiate sweatshirt and allowed it to fall on to the soft carpet without a sound, your short cheer shorts following suit. Bare to the cold room, you felt goosebumps prickle your skin and you weren’t sure if your nipples had grown hard from your admittedly overactive imagination, or the exposure. 
Slipping the woven cashmere over your head, you let out a soft sigh as the fabric caressed your skin and enveloped you in a scent that was purely Andy. It was something expensive; you’d seen the bottle on his bureau. A sweet, smoky wood scent that clung to his skin and the fibers of his clothes—fuck, you wanted to be covered in it. 
Crawling on to the king-sized bed that took up the center of his spacious room, you couldn’t help but giggle as you sank into the plush, white duvet that covered it. Your fingers and toes curled against the cotton, and, in the back of your mind, you knew you’d have to smooth it all out before you returned to your own room, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care in the moment. 
All you could think about was Andy in this bed, his hand working his hardened cock as quiet groans strained from his throat. You knew he did it every night before he fell asleep. You couldn’t help but wonder if he knew that, just separated by a single wall, you listened carefully and covered your mouth, fucking yourself along with him. 
Allowing your eyes to drift shut, your fingers trailed down your body, rubbing the damp fabric that clung to the lips of your wet pussy, whimpering softly as you brushed against the hardened nub of your clit. God—you wished it was him. His fingers teasing your cunt, his tongue brushing over your nipple before grazing it with his teeth.
Clenching the duvet, that was covered in the musky, heavy scent of him, with white knuckles, it didn’t take long for you to reach the precipice. Biting your lip, almost painfully, you stifled a cry. The way your walls fluttered around your fingers, as your thighs clenched hard, and your toes curled into the soft sheets made you feel like you were flying. Writhing against the now too-warm bed, you felt that fuzzy, pleasurable feeling wash over you like the sun’s rays as you came back down. Touching yourself had never felt so good before—how could you go back to your normal nightly activities?
Slipping your hand from the sodden fabric, it was like your body was on autopilot. Your breathing slowed as your post-orgasm brain returned from the stratosphere. It wouldn’t hurt to close your eyes for just a minute. One minute, then you’d take off his too-soft sweater and get rid of any evidence that you’d even been here. One minute, then you’d go to your own room and lay down and go to sleep with your little secret.
Just one minute, then…
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The lights were off in the silent house. Andy carefully allowed the heavy front door to close behind him, turning the deadbolt as he shut out the rest of the night. Running a hand over his scruff-covered chin, he let out an uninhibited yawn. The day had been long, the night even longer, and he longed for sleep. Leaving his briefcase in his office, and his rumpled jacket folded over his arm, he quietly padded up the stairs and down the hall.
With a gentle knock on Jacob’s door, and no answer in response, he quietly peered inside. A muss of brown hair rested on his pillow, barely visible under the plaid quilt that covered the bed. Jacob hadn’t snuck out since you’d taken on the task of nannying him, but Andy always liked to be certain, not quite trusting the little shit—and for good reason. Quietly closing the door, he continued down the hall before coming to rest in front of your room. He frowned, looking at the floor for that telltale strip of light that usually spilled from beneath the door and tattled to him that you were still awake, usually reading or listening to music or watching something on your laptop. 
You were a night owl, and it wasn’t even two in the morning; you never fell asleep this early unless you had an exam the next day and he knew that wasn’t the case. It was the weekend. He’d gotten to know your schedule intimately, getting a copy of your class and assignment schedule from you under the guise of staying in the loop. Truth be-told, he just wanted to know how your days went and where you were. Erring on the side of caution, he gently rapped a knuckle against your door, quietly murmuring your name just inches away from the wooden barrier, knowing you’d hear, if you were actually awake.
Met with silence, he felt a tug in his chest. He knew you weren’t the lightest sleeper; once when he’d apologized for doing lawn work on an early Saturday morning, you’d told him, with a sheepish blush, that you hadn’t even noticed the loud mower outside your window. Knocking once more, louder this time, he called your name with no response. Resting a hand on your doorknob, he hesitated. 
Though it was unspoken, he’d deemed your room off-limits…but what if you were hurt? Or sick? What if something had happened to you after Jacob went to bed? Talking himself out of walking away, he turned the cold, metal knob. The door opened silently and he hesitated before taking a step inside, his eyes searching the pitch black for your form. 
Adjusting to the dark, his eyes could make out the frilly pink sheets of your still-made bed. With a frown, he flicked on the light and took in the space that he’d only ever caught occasional glimpses of. Through the worry, there was a pique of intrigue. Everything was shades of pastel, a little stuffed bunny propped up against your pillow. It was all so innocent and girly. Sweet and saccharine, just like you.
A light on your nightstand got his attention; a lump in his throat, and the bulge in his tight slacks, grew as the shape registered. Nope, it wasn’t your phone. Fuck. A little vibrator rested on your bedside table, and he had to bite his lip to stifle a groan. He’d heard the quiet vibrations through your shared wall before but seeing the culprit and everything else was something new entirely.
He always knew you were girly, loving cute things and being just as sweet, but you— 
You were missing.
He didn’t have time to jerk off as he tried to remedy all of the new things he’d learned about your bedroom. Muttering a curse under his breath, he adjusted his rapidly hardening cock before taking a step back and taking a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose as he gathered himself. He had to get a fucking grip—he argued against murderers for a living, for Christ’s sake. Would your vibrator and sweet little bedroom really be his downfall?
Your car was still in the driveway—you weren’t in the living room and the den had been dark when he’d come in as well. Pulling his phone from his pocket, he quickly found you listed under his favorites and allowed it to dial. His brow furrowed when he heard a quiet sound from the next room over. In just three strides, he was in front of his room and with one more, he was inside as the phone call went to voicemail.
The lamp in the corner of his room illuminated the space, as well as your sleeping form that was sprawled over the center of his king-sized bed. A cocktail of relief and arousal flooded him at once. You were safe. You were home.
But you were also in his bed. And aside from his sweater, only wearing a pair of satin-y, baby pink panties that were molded perfectly to your ass which he could plainly see in the warm light that filled the room. You rested on your belly, fingers gripping his pillow beneath your head tight, with one leg hiked up the mattress as you snuggled into the plush bedding. Closing the door quietly behind him, his legs carried him over to the bed without a second thought. His eyes trailed over your relaxed body and affection almost made the corner of his lips tick upwards.
You looked so sweet, your eyes closed gently as your thick lashes brushed your soft cheek. That sweetness was cut when he noticed a damp patch on your panties and the way that soft sighs of sleepy pleasure slipped from your lips as you rocked your hips into the mattress, oblivious to your newfound audience as some dream played out behind your eyelids.
The aquamarine of his eyes caught fire as he watched you shift in your sleep. Draping his jacket over the armchair in the corner of his room, he stalked across the room, pausing as he landed beside the bed. Straight, white teeth digging into his lip, he held back a groan as you shifted, seeking out comfort as his sweater rode up to your waist, revealing more of you to his starving gaze. 
He could feel his cock throb at the sight of you and he was almost certain that no amount of deep breathing could resolve it. He needed you out of there before he blew a load in his pants like a fucking teenager. Tucking his length in to the waistband of his boxer-briefs, he carefully sat down beside you. The foam mattress didn’t move you in the slightest and he mumbled a curse under his breath before resting a hand on your thigh, giving you a gentle shake as he softly murmured, “Sweetheart?”
A little groan slipped through your lips, your eyes squeezing shut tighter as you held on to the clouds of sleep that still filled your head. Turning over, you mumbled something incomprehensible before your breathing leveled back out. 
Looking at his hand still resting on your smooth thigh, he resisted the urge to give the cushion of your skin a soft squeeze. Slowly trailing his eyes up your frame, his eyes darkened. Your nipples strained against the light knit material, begging to be pinched and laved. If you tempted him when you were awake, wandering the house in those tiny shorts and tight tops, watching you sleep was another circle of hell where he was condemned only to look but never to touch.
You two had danced around one another since you’d met at that liquor store. How could he know you wanted it as badly as he did?
“Princess,” Andy tried once more, his thumb brushing back and forth over your leg as he spoke at a normal volume, “Wake up for me, sweetheart.”
He watched the way your nose crinkled slightly in your sleep and a small smile spread across his lips. It was as if your subconscious was absorbing his words, blocking them from reaching your conscious mind and waking you up. As he gave your leg one more gentle shake, you let out a quiet, whiny groan consisting of one word, “Daddy…”
Andy couldn’t help the way his grip on you tightened at the two-syllable word, the little blood that was left in his head, rushing to his groin. Fuck—there was no mistaking that. He barely noticed the way his hand had drifted further up your leg; he needed to touch you more, to see all of you.
You’d just called him daddy.
He could be your daddy for tonight. 
Or, for as long as you’d allow him. 
Clearing his throat, he gave one last, half-hearted attempt at waking you, “Baby?”
“Daddy, please…” You breathed out, your fingers gripping the soft blankets as your dreams continued to roll like a film reel, unaware of the way that their subject’s hand had drifted up to your hip, toying with the elastic edge of the only barrier separating him from you. Your voice was so innocent as you whimpered out, “Need you, daddy…”
At that, it didn’t take long for Andy to slip down the bed, gently parting your already spread legs further, leaving enough space for him to lay between them. With a tentative hand, he brushed his thumb over the wet spot that had darkened the light fabric of your panties, begging for his attention. Your hips jerked as he dragged his finger down the cleft of your folds and a low chuckle gently shook the bed.
“Shh…” He shushed your soft whimper, watching as your brows drew together, seeking out the feeling again and rocking your hips upward. 
Fuck—he’d wanted this since he saw you standing in that dark store. You’d looked so sweet in your little, frilly pastel dress, your exposed décolletage shining with some body shimmer that smelled like vanilla, even from a foot away. That was you; always so sweet, so good.
Pressing a gentle kiss to the center of your covered, private area, feeling the dampness against his slightly parted lips, he hummed softly, reassuringly as his thumb continued to drift up and down that same spot tortuously, “I’ll take care of you, sweetheart.” 
You spent all your time doing things for everyone else: your family, your friends, him, his son—when was the last time that you’d been taken care of? When was the last time you’d let your walls down enough to even allow it?
In that blissful twilight of sleep, you were so soft, vulnerable and receptive to his care. You’d allow it, even if you didn’t know you were.
Holding his breath, trying to stay as silent and as still as possible, Andy gently rolled the lacy, elastic band down your legs as his eyes stayed trained on your face for any hint that you were coming around. Gently maneuvering your sleep-laden limbs, spreading your legs wider for him to fit between, you barely shifted as he draped your legs over his broad shoulders.
Running a finger down the bare, sensitive skin of your puffy slit, he groaned as he collected the proof of your arousal on the tip of his digit. “Oh, sweetheart…” Using his thumbs, he gently spread the petals of your sex and had to bite his lip to stifle himself from cursing at the sight. The low light glistened against the wetness that clung to your skin as your hips shifted and your brows pulled together, feeling the cold air brush against your exposed clit. He cooed, “You’re so wet, baby. This all for me? All for Daddy?”
“Mm…” You mumbled, your cheek pressed against the pillow as your hands drifted up your body, dragging the hem of his sweater up over your tummy slowly. You could feel the last glowing embers of sleep slowly dying, with each brush against your skin pushing you back towards the waking world but you were so comfortable. You were enrobed in Andy’s scent, that sweet smoke that made you feel like nothing bad could happen to you as long as it was near.
Andy’s thumb brushed against your swollen bundle of nerves and he let out a low, dark chuckle as your hips gave a sudden jerk at the direct stimulation. Not wanting to torture you—not yet at least—he traced circles around the bud, careful not to touch it directly again. After several moments, he carefully slipped one finger inside, finding no resistance if your state of need. Giving it a few, agonizingly slow, experimental pumps, he watched hungrily as his digit glistened with your wetness each time it slid out.
With his eyes trained on your blissful expression, he gently slipped in a second, longer finger beside the first and watched hungrily as your body adjusted to the new sensation, a soft whimper breaking through your parted lips at the stretch; his fingers were far larger than your own. 
“Daddy’s going to eat your sweet pussy, baby.” As his fingers hooked upwards gently, they pressed teasingly against the spongy pillow of your g-spot, your hips bucking forward again at the sudden pressure that made your squeeze around him. You were balancing on the precipice of wakefulness now, one foot still in that perfect dreamland and the other stepping towards the seemingly real, gentle brushes against your skin.
With a gentle kiss pressed to your hip bone, his tongue finally licked a broad, languid stripe through your folds from your entrance to the red button of your clit that continued to beg for his attention. “Fuck, you taste like candy…” Watching the way your tight hole clenched around nothing; he immediately imagined filling it with his cock, Andy groaned, “Sweetest little cunt I’ve ever had.”
Closing his eyes, he groaned as he leaned back down, using his tongue to lave over your sensitive skin; he needed to taste you. Sleep was slipping away, and you weren’t certain if it was a dream when your hands threaded through a head of hair that rested at the apex of your thighs. The grip of your fingers tightened almost painfully in his hair as his lips finally wrapped around you swollen clit, giving it a hard suck before letting it go. The scrape of your nails over his scalp mixed a quick lick of pain into his pleasure.
“Oh god—fuck!” You felt your body begin to shake as an orgasm barreled towards you, forcing your sleepy eyes to finally open.
“Watch your language, princess.” Andy’s eyes found yours open and he grinned wolfishly at the surprise and arousal that filled your expression, “Good girls don’t talk like that.”
The wet muscle dipped inside your channel, his nose nudging against your clit before he dragged his tongue slowly up again to the swollen nub. He traced the tip around it before sucking hard then soft and letting go and repeating the movement again and again. He could feel your body tensing as an orgasm quickly approached and he slipped his fingers back into your soaking cunt, your thighs quivering at the added feeling.
“Andy—ah!” A whine was pulled from your throat, silencing your sweetly confused question as you fell over the edge.  
He grinned against your skin at the shattered cry, sucking your clit just slightly harder than a moment earlier before gently scraping his teeth over it and making your thighs squeeze around his head. He murmured against your wet pussy, his voice sending vibrations through your body, “What’s my name, baby?”
Your mind was floating away and all you could concentrate on was his touch and the way he made you feel so little and taken care of as he played with you. Shaking your head, your sweet voice came out shakily, “I don’t—”
“I know I haven’t made you that stupid, baby.” His thumb circled your clit, tugging up on the hood of it and exposing the pearl to his greedy eyes before they flicked back up to yours as you leaned up on your elbows to watch him, “What’s my name?”
Capturing it between his lips, he sucked hard, and you felt the wetness dripping from your hole onto his duvet, “Daddy!” You finally cried out, failing to silence yourself as he dipped his tongue into your entrance, collapsing back onto the bed as he played you like a violin, feeding off your every reaction. “God! Oh—feels so good…Daddy, please!” There was a pout on your lips that contrasted with the way your hips rocked against his every touch, unsure if you wanted him closer or to stop the sensations that were becoming too much.
“You like when Daddy plays with your princess parts while you sleep? Yeah?” He let out another deep chuckle against your cunt as a little chirp was pulled from you at his naughty words. He continued lowly, “You know I had to when I found this beautiful little girl in my bed, cunt soaked and waiting for me to come home.” 
You moved your hips, chasing that pleasure with each changing angle. The sounds were almost depraved; every lick of his tongue and brush of his fingers forced a wet noise into the room that was mostly quiet aside from the constant melody of your breathy moans.
His hips rocked into the mattress, seeking out his own pleasure as you whimpered, “Fuck, that’s my good girl—wearing my sweater and those slutty, little panties. Gonna keep those, baby. Never getting them back.” Slipping two fingers back into your tight cunt, he pumped them as his mouth focused on your little pearl, “Now come for me again, sweetheart.”
“Can’t!” You cried out, your lip quivering as your second climax barreled towards you, and you shook your head, begging, “No! Too sensitive, daddy…”
“You wanna be sensitive?” He landed a smack to your overworked button with three fingers.
“No!” You whimpered, feeling tears well in your eyes, sniffling as the pleasure made your body shake. 
“Better make that sweet little pussy squeeze my fingers or Daddy’s gonna give you a lot more than this…” With dark eyes, he watched as the pleasure finally took hold once again, dragging you under.
“Daddy!” You whimpered as he pressed against your g-spot with two thick fingers, sucking your clit at the same time and shoving you over the edge. Your fingers tightened in his hair as you finally squealed, “Oh! I’m coming!”
You felt your walls flutter as he helped your body ride the crest of the wave of your second orgasm, licking you slowly as a new flood of wetness coated his tongue like a nectar that he never wanted to stop drinking. He could live and die between your thighs, happily.
Your toes curled as your thighs clenched around his head, it was almost as if you were trying to force Andy away when the stimulation became too much but he held your thighs open despite the pleasured cries that filled the. room.
“That’s it…Good girl, sweetheart.” He murmured, helping you come down from the edge that you’d been balancing on for far too long. Watching through half-hooded eyes, you hummed softly as he rubbed your still trembling thigh with one hand and cleaned the fingers of his other with his mouth, a sly smirk on his full lips.
“I…” You trailed off, your cheeks burning as you finally came back from that floaty place where your head had been since waking.
‘Holy shit.’
Covering your body with his, your eyes widened innocently before he caught your lips in a surprisingly soft kiss. He tasted like whiskey and you, and it felt like a drug that you’d easily become addicted to. Andy’s hand landing a smack on your ass made you jump, pulling away from the kiss that had lulled you into a false sense of security.
He chuckled as you let out a quiet whine at the sting his hand left behind, sitting back up and undoing his belt with dark eyes that were still focused on you, “Now get that little ass in the air. It’s time to let Daddy use this sweet little hole, princess.”
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