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#Stay safe and live deliciously my loves
satans-knitwear · 4 months
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Happy new year! I hope this one is kind to you ✨🥳
Treat me ~ Tip Me ~ More of me
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shotmrmiller · 3 months
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When Johnny takes Simon to his home, and you open the door, Simon's heart stops beating. You direct that lovely smile he's fallen in love with at Johnny as you hug him and usher him inside. Simon's frozen in place, his body refusing to move, because gods, you're a fucking dream.
And then you turn your attention towards him, with ruddy cheeks and pink lips and a delicate neck he could easily wrap his hand around—
"You must be Simon!" and his cock starts to stir. All you said was his name, in that angelic voice of yours, and his blood started to rush to his groin.
When you move to wrap your arms around him in an embrace, he finally breaks from his trance and returns it. Barely. It's awkward— one arm coming up to inelegantly pat your upper back a little too hard, and the other stiff at his side. But you seem completely unbothered, just giving him one last squeeze and step back, holding both of his arms in your dainty hands, and you say, "It's great to meet the one that keeps my Johnny safe. Now, come on in, make yourself at home!"
Simon timidly walks inside, and closes the door behind him, and utters, "Thank you for lettin' me stay here."
The joyful laughter you let out sends exquisite prickles up his spine. "He actually speaks! I'm surprised, Johnny said it took a bit for you to warm up to others," and you give another stomach-fluttering giggle. "You're welcome here any time, Simon. Now let me take you to the room you'll be staying in."
Simon has to carry his duffle bag in front of him as you lead him to the guest room to cover the throbbing erection he's got. When you leave him to freshen up, he wastes no time in pulling his jeans down and taking himself in his hand, stroking firmly. When his imagination paints a picture of you wearing an apron while cooking a meal for him, his vision blurs as he climaxes.
--
Simon knows he's atypical. He has no real decorum. He tells piss-poor dark jokes, inadvertently stares at people when he's lost in thought— and since he's been here, Simon likes to shadow you.
But you don't seem to mind any of it. You laugh at his jokes, the ones Johnny never fails to scoff in disgust at, you tilt your head innocently towards him, silently questioning his intense gaze — and it's so fucking adorable that he's come to that look 8 times in the last 3 days— and you always ask him to reach for things that are out of your reach because you know he's around. (Johnny made a joke once, said that you're being haunted by a ghost, and the quip you replied with as you came to his defense had him dizzy.)
His favorite thing about you though, is how unafraid you are of him. You had rounded a corner and saw his skull mask for the first time, and had you been like any other woman, you would've been startled. But you hadn't been— If anything, you asked him if he wanted it fixed.
"I can see a couple of tears here, Simon. I can patch it up if you like."
It was so deliciously domiciliary that he counted each stitch of his mended mask with his thumb as he touched himself that night.
And then, through the thin walls of the home, he suddenly heard your dulcet moans. He quickly got up and put his skills to use— silently crossing the living room and leaning against the wall closest to your bedroom door.
The bed repeatedly creaked and every choked moan that left you, Simon heard clearly. He hastily took out his achingly hard cock, spit on his palm, and stroked himself to the rhythm of the slapping of skin. Squeezing his eyes shut, he fucked himself to the thought of him being the one in there with you.
He has no doubt that you'd feel heavenly. Your slick cunt swallowing his turgid length, walls almost painfully tight around him. You'd beg for him to hammer into you, relentlessly, mercilessly. You'd tell him to bite the crook of your shoulder once you were about to come around his cock, and when he actually hears you reach your peak, he rhythmically tightens and loosens his grip, imitating your fluttering walls. His toes are curling inside his socks, he's so bloody close—
And then Simon hears your lascivious voice murmur, "Come in me."
He bites his lip so hard it splits under the pressure as he comes. Tiny, hushed whimpers seeped from behind his mouth, as hot cum spilled onto his fingers, and trickled onto the floor.
The only noise Simon can hear now is his own shaky breath— the fun's over on both sides, it seems. He looks down, gives his softening cock one more stroke, wringing out the last of his seed, before tucking himself away, and sluggishly wiping his mess off the floor with his foot.
He quietly moves, heading back to his room, when he spots your laundry basket in the utility room.
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Simon has never believed in luck until now when he's sniffing your knickers in the privacy of the guest room, and he realizes they've been worn. And by how strong the smell of you is, they've been used very recently. He felt like he won the goddamn lottery.
Wrapping it around his cock, he touches himself. Again. And when he comes, he makes sure to spurt his cum directly onto the gusset of the undergarment.
Come morning, when they're all stiff and crusted, he laments that he didn't lick them first, in a pitiful bid to experience a taste of you, before stowing them into a secret compartment in his bag. He makes a mental note to remember to do just that when he takes another pair.
Simon wordlessly makes a cup of tea later, hissing as the hot liquid comes in contact with the small wound on his lip, when Johnny approaches him.
"Mornin' LT."
A grunt is his only reply.
Johnny then shoots him a sly grin.
"Last night, ye weren't as wheesht, as quiet, as ye thought. But dinnae worry, Bonnie doesn't ken a thing."
He claps a hand on Simon's petrified shoulders. "If ye wanted a slice of the cake, ye could've just asked. I dinnae mind sharin'."
Simon gives him a borderline-demented look, puts his tea down on the counter, and clears his throat.
"When?"
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gyuwoncheol · 7 months
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Room Service
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↳ A part 2 to 15 Minutes
Pair: Scoups x f!reader
Genre: Smut, Concert!Cheol, husband!Cheol, dom!Cheol, 18+ only (MDNI).
Summary: The only thing hornier than pre-concert Cheol is post-concert Cheol. Lucky for you, you’re the only one in the world with an all-access VIP ticket to this immersive experience.
Warnings: Porn with plot, Concert!Cheol, dom!Cheol, daddy kink, breeding kink, big dick!Cheol, pussy drunk!Cheol, cock hungry!reader, so. many. orgasms., quickie sex, unprotected sex (stay safe, children), oral (f. receiving), fingering (f. receiving), lots of making out, creampieS, slightly public sex, dick riding, manhandling, pussy slapping (like once), use of color system, overstimulation, body worship, breast/nipple play, hair pulling, spitting, crying during and after sex (but it’s not a kink), dirty talk, use of pet names (my love, baby, princess, baby girl, angel), fluff at the end. Please let me know if i missed something, i can’t remember all the filth. Not thoroughly proofread.
WC: 4.1k
Author's Note: Did I get carried away? Hell yes. is this the filthiest thing I’ve ever written? Could be. Except the other wip I have also for Seungcheol might just beat it. Thank you so much again for the love on 15 Minutes. I hope this 2nd part lives up to it.
Author's 2nd Note: For new readers, you don’t have to read 15 Minutes as this can stand on its own, but it would make more sense if you did read it.
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“My good girl.” 
Seungcheol chuckled as he plunged deep into your cunt, his cock pushing through your mixed cum that you so diligently kept in as instructed, “so good at following instructions huh?” 
“Fuck baby, you’re so messy” Cheol cursed, mouth watering at the sight of your stored cum slowly dripping out of your hole as he dragged out his entire length until only the tip was in. You groaned when you felt globs of it trickle down your thigh, your husband’s large hand slowly pushing you down against the back of the couch. You felt him engulf you, his chest against your back, hot breath on your ears, “cat got your tongue, babe?” The man teased just as he thrusted his length back into you, causing more cum to overflow from your hole.
It had only been roughly 30 minutes since the concert finally ended, the boys doing all the post show rituals from changing clothes to shooting backstage content, and as soon as that was over, Seungcheol had all but dragged you to another dressing room, not even saying anything as he unzipped your jeans and dragged your very soiled panties down. Not that you were surprised though, post-concert was always when Cheol was the horniest, with all that adrenaline still pumping through his veins.
You could feel the prominent vein on his cock drag through your walls deliciously as he alternated between slow and fast thrusts, an arm snaked around your torso while hot phrases flew from his mouth.
“Fuck, pussy so tight.” 
“All mine.” 
“I’ll give you all my babies.” 
“Gon’ pump you full.” 
“My good girl so desperate for cum.” 
“Cheol!” You screeched in between moans when you felt him hit that sensitive spot particularly rough.
“Did you watch me tonight, baby? Why weren’t you in the stands?” He asked suddenly, as if he wasn’t still railing you from behind.
“C-couldn’t g-go” you squeaked, willing yourself to form words when all you really wanted to do was whimper in pleasure, “had to… be— behave… fuck!” 
“Behave?” Cheol clarified even though he sensed where this was going. In all the times they rushed backstage in between sets, not once had you moved from your spot, sitting cross legged on top of the large black trunk cases situated right in front of the screen which broadcasted the events on stage.  “Words, baby” he said sweetly yet firmly when he saw you nod eagerly.
“Yes! Behave. Had t-to… k-keep.. shiiiiit,” you groaned, your elbows harshly rubbing on the leather material of the couch after another rough entry of Cheol’s cock, “keep da-daddy’s… cum… in me.” You finished off your defense and you could already see your husband’s smirk without even really looking at him.
“Aren’t. You. Such. An. Angel.” Seungcheol punctuated each word with a deep harsh thrust.
“And all yours.” You punctuated as you looked back at him, both your eyes glazing in lust. The loud sound of skin slapping skin and your pussy squelching at every thrust was unmistakable, the room smelled of sex. The group’s leader was sweating even more than he did when he got off stage, his warmth radiating onto your body as he kept you impossibly close to him, jackhammering his cock in your cunt. 
“Shit shit shit shit..” you cried out loud when his other hand suddenly rubbed fast circles on your clit.
“FUCK!” Seungcheol growled at your release, your pussy clamping down on him so tightly that it triggered his own. He stilled within you in an instant, bodies folded in half against the leather couch, your husband continuously muttering incoherent words as the feeling of your fluttering walls drove him to another level of cloud 9. 
“Yah! You two better eat already if you’re really planning to go all night” Seungkwan scolded in his best mom voice when the both of you entered the buffet area hand in hand.
You hid your face on Cheol’s shoulders, suddenly very aware of all 12 boys looking your way. They were very much aware of what you two had been doing and why you were doing it. In spite of the never ending teasing and playful disgusted looks they give their leader, the members had all told you they were excited for Cheol to become a dad mostly because it meant he’d get off their asses. 
“We’re actually going ahead. We’ll take a different car.” Your husband announced, a gentle squeeze to your hand when some of the boys howled at the implication of both of you going back to the hotel first.
“Really not wasting any time huh?” Soonyoung smirked despite having his mouth full of noodles 
“What? She’s leaving soon!” Seungcheol whined.
“Y/n still has a week left!!” Mingyu corrected with a roll of his eyes.
“Yeah yeah, still not enough!” Cheol replied. He gave a curt nod to Jeonghan, calling his name firmly as if to say ‘i leave the kids with you.’
“Hyung, seriously, you both have to eat.” DK was next to remind you both as he knows you’re both still running on empty stomachs.
“We’ll get room service,” your husband called out, inching closer towards the exit doors that would lead you to the vans.
“We hope it's the food kind! And maybe let y/n get some real sleep after!” Joshua’s reminder had you giggling, glad enough to know the boys still cared for you even though all you’ve done was hog all of Seungcheol’s free time.
Surprisingly, you had both managed to stay well behaved in the car ride home. If anything, you two were very sweet, your head resting on Cheol’s shoulders as he held your hand through the ride and absentmindedly played with your fingers. 
Even when you had both showered together in the hotel room, your husband did not try to make any advances, he simply cleaned you both up, even giving you a nice massage on your scalp when you lathered your favorite shampoo. 
Contrary to what his members may think, Seungcheol wasn’t too adamant about fucking you all night. He could see how tired you actually are and Mingyu was right, you did still have a week left with him. He just wants to make sure you are cared for like his queen this whole trip, whether that meant blowing your back or giving you 8 hours of sleep, he didn’t mind. 
“Tired, baby?” He asked as he secured the knot on your fluffy hotel robe.
You lazily smiled at him as you settled in bed, pulling him towards you for good measure. “I’m ok.”
“Hungry? Wanna get some food now?” 
“Want you to kiss me.” 
Seungcheol was taken aback by the boldness of your request, not because it was the first time you asked, but because you both have definitely done more than just kissing these past 72 hours. He smiled sheepishly as he climbed over you, settling on your side as his chapped lips kissed your soft ones. You clutched onto his hand on your neck, sighing happily when you felt him deepen the kiss. 
“Someone’s happy,” a low chuckle from your husband.
“Mhmm,” you hummed, “i love your kisses.” Despite the raunchy sex, there was always just something so nice and intimate about kissing your husband. His lips were always so plump against yours and the way he’d hold you securely always made you feel like you meant the world to him. 
“You’re so beautiful, i love you so much,” Seungcheol admired your bare face before sucking on your lower lip.
You moaned out an i love you too but it only got swallowed by the man who couldn’t get enough of you. You climbed on his lap, trapping him in between your legs, taking control of this little makeout session you were having. Inevitably, the more you kissed him, the more your hips moved on its own accord, grinding on Cheol’s robe-covered bottom half. 
You were moving erratically, wanting to chase a high you knew you needed if you were to fit Cheol’s dick again tonight. 
“Daddy, please...” you cried, annoyed that you just couldn’t get to where you wanted to be 
“Please what, baby girl?”
You whined desperately at the dangerously low tone in your ear, “please make me cum.” 
Record time is what you’d call it, the way Seungcheol went from flipping you over to casting your robe open to having his mouth suck on your clit harshly. You couldn’t even process it, all you knew was your throat was straining from how you were screaming his name with how he lapped at your cunt. His tongue licked bold stripes from your hole to your clit before he'd suck the sensitive bud. If there's anything Cheol has perfected, it's his hand-mouth coordination, the way he perfectly syncs his plush lips to suck at your clit while two fingers sink in you and curl to graze that spongy spot inside your walls. It should really have you embarrassed at how quick it could unravel the coil in your stomach. Your orgasm exploding in colorful bursts behind your eyes whilst soaking your husband's face in a mess. 
"I forgot how sweet you fucking taste," he groaned, slurping the juices leaking from your hole. He peeked up at you from where he was, your mouth agape and chest rising and falling while your fingers still gripped on his hair. You were hissing from oversensitivity but you should've known that post-concert Cheol was a starved man. When he deemed he had swallowed all of you, three fingers prodded at your entrance that had you arching your back from the bed only to be pushed down with your husband's free arm. "Stay still, baby. Daddy's not done yet." 
"Fuuuuuuck, " you panted, going delirious from the overstimulation your pussy was feeling. You writhed in vain as Cheol smothered your cunt like a full course meal. When you tried to squirm away, he delivered a slap to your pussy that sent shocks all over your body. "I'm cu- fuck! I'm cumming," you shuddered, thighs closing in on your husband's head. 
Seungcheol chuckled at your state, a proud grin across his face when he finally settled beside you. After pulling back to back orgasms from you in less than 10 minutes, he knew you were oversensitive and just needed to not be touched. "You okay, my love?" 
"Just.." you panted, "Just a minute." 
You rolled over on your stomach when you regained enough strength, and slowly but surely got on your wobbly knees to climb on your husband's thick thighs. Seungcheol wanted to squeeze your bare breasts but seeing as you were still slightly swaying, he decided to hold you securely by the waist. "what're you doing?" He mused while watching you fumble with the knot of his robe. 
His dick twitched at the sight of your lust blown, hooded eyes. "Daddy..." You smiled, god, you were so far gone, "Wanna ride you." 
Seungcheol moaned, hurriedly helping you untie his robe and throwing it to the floor. You salivated at the sight of his hard cock slapping against his stomach, red tip leaking with precum. Anchoring your palms on his chest, you kept your eyes trained on him as you sucked on your tongue before letting some of your saliva drool onto his length, your hand immediately gripping and spreading the fluid along his shaft, thumb grazing at the slit.
“Holy shit,” he cursed, hips bucking into your hand on instinct. A wicked smile crossed your face, delighted with the effect your actions had on him.
Cheol's eyes rolled to the back of his head when you finally let your pussy glide against his cock, coating it even more in your wetness.
"Fuck baby, what's gotten into you?" He hissed as you picked up your pace, grinding his cock against your wet folds, always making sure to let the tip kiss your clit when you move down. "So fucking needy for daddy's cock huh?" 
You moaned when one of his large hand squeezed your right breast and his dick leaked more precum onto his stomach. The sight of you, head falling back and mouth parted, was immaculate. He wished he remembered where his phone was right now, it would've been the perfect photo to take for him to get off on in the future. He committed it to memory as best he could, but even that thought immediately flew away when he finally felt you sink into his dick. 
"Oh my god,” you moaned in unison.
Seungcheol wasn't so sure if he was wincing from your nails digging into his chest or from the vice grip of your cunt on his cock, but either way, both felt like heaven to him. "Baby girl, you just came twice and you're still so fucking tight.”
"C-can take you, daddy. Please... p-promise!" You begged, lowering yourself to take in a few more inches of him. The stretch was familiar yet it still had you squeezing your eyes shut and biting your lower lip. 
Afraid he wouldn't be able to stay still any longer, Cheol took the matter in his own hands, sitting up to bring your chest flush against his, connecting your lips in a heated kiss to distract you from the pain. He still tasted of you and a slight hint of your minty toothpaste. When he felt you relax, his strong hold sank you onto him until he was fully sheathed. You broke from the kiss, head falling back once again at the overwhelming feeling of being so full. 
"Cmon, baby, thought you wanted to ride me?" He sucked on the column of your throat, causing you to swivel your hips. "There you go. You can do it." God, his voice was so sinful it made your insides churn. Another strangled moan left your mouth when his wet tongue made contact with your right nipple, licking and sucking before he kissed between the valley of your breasts, only to nip at your left bud.
"Oh my god, Cheol!" You pulled at his hair, wanting him to leave your sensitive breasts alone. 
He laughed dryly at your attempt but still allowed you that space. He let go of your waist to lean back with his palms against the mattress to have a full view of you. "Cmon baby," He spurred on, "show daddy what you got." 
Choi Seungcheol was simply left with no regrets at his challenge. His eyes almost turned completely black when you decided to fully bounce on him. When you found a good pace, you alternated between bouncing and grinding, one hand squeezing your breast as the other held onto his knee for support. "Fuck, daddyyy," you cried at the stretch, and he could just feel your pussy clenching on his cock even more.
"So fucking needy," he spat, "Can't get enough of my cock." 
You shook your head at his words, mewling when your clit rubbed deliciously at his pelvis and his engorged head kissed your cervix. "D-daddy.." 
"That's it, baby girl," Seungcheol cooed, bucking his hips up to meet yours, "get off on me, ride me 'til you shake. Need you to cum, princess." 
Encouraged by your husband's words, you lifted ‘til just the tip was in before sitting down on him harshly. He continued to praise you and how delicious your warm pussy felt, a string of very lewd words produced with every swivel of your hips. Your face contorted in pleasure and he knew you were close, "touch yourself," came his instructions.
"shit!" You cursed, cumming on the spot when two of your fingers rubbed against your clit.
Seungcheol beamed at how well he knew you, your tells and your triggers when you're about to cum. But what he didn't see coming was just how fast the sight of you getting off on top of him would quickly bring him to the edge too. If he didn’t catch it at the last second, he might have just spilled in you.
In one swift motion, not even pulling out of you, he flipped you on your back and trapped you under his weight. You yelped when he pumped into you, catching you off guard as you were still trying to ride out your own orgasm. 
"Ba-aby, fuck. You're d-driving me insane," he growled, "don't you dare fucking close your eyes. Keep 'em on me." 
Your fingers weaved through his hair, as you desperately tried to follow his instructions. If only he wasn't hell bent on reaching his high, Seungcheol would've laughed at how often you'd train your eyes to look at him every time they kept trying to roll to the back of your head. "Daddy's gonna fuck a baby in you, you want that, princess?" 
"Y-yes daddy! yes!" You mewled, both your legs being lifted up, calves resting on Seungcheol’s meaty shoulders, while he inserted a pillow below your ass. "Fuck me full, daddy, please,” a breathless request.
He folded you in half, planting his knees on the mattress and bracing himself on your sides. Seungcheol drove his cock into you, hitting you so deep that you felt him just below your cervix and you moaned the loudest that night. Strangled moan after strangled moan came out of your mouth while throaty grunts and curse words flew off from his, all this mixed with the explicit sound of your sweaty bodies colliding.
"m-more, daddy! More, please!"  
"Fuuuuuuck, you're insatiable, so fucking tight," Seungcheol moaned. His movements were rough, pulling out of you completely before fully slamming back in and going deep with every move. The sex was everything close to animalistic, you could feel him in the deepest parts of you, consistently hitting a spot that made your brain short circuit. "So needy for my cum, want to be filled so bad."
"Daddy, so- oh my god. So fucking big.”
“Princess, I-I’m.. s-so...close,” he warned, staring at your teary eyes while your hands intertwined behind his neck. Seungcheol buried his cock in you, not bothering to thrust out of your grip, instead grinding endlessly to help stimulate your clit against his pelvis.
"Cum with me, Cheollie. P-please."  
Your husband growled before his hips jerked twice, hot spurts of his cum painting your walls white. His eyes boring into yours and the feeling of being so full only triggered your own release, rendering you into a babbling mess. Seungcheol connected your mouths in a kiss, not caring that you were already out of breath. He interspersed them with praises of how good you felt clenching on his cock. 
"I love you, Cheollie." 
"I know baby, I know. I love you too," he breathed, hissing at how hard he still was despite just hitting his climax. His dick was almost painful in your tight hold, "give me one more, yeah?" 
Before you could even process his question, you were already flipped on all fours, whining at the temporary emptiness. "Wha- Cheol, I-" 
"Be good for daddy, yeah? One more, princess. One more to get you round and full." But who were you to deny your Choi Seungcheol? Your husband who was just as ready to start a family with you like he's always dreamed of. Your arms gave way when you felt him breach your abused hole once more, your limp body allowing him to control your hips even more. He was kneading your ass, surely leaving handprints in his wake. 
"Ch- ahh!" You cried in a silent scream, the pleasure you were feeling just devouring your every being. You could feel the goosebumps rise on you scalp and run to the tips of your toes as Seungcheol pounded you from behind. "Cheollie... Oh.. oh! fu-uuuck." 
He pulled you by your hair harshly, your back flush against his chest, the low rumble of his voice affecting your body, "Call me Cheollie again and you won't get to cum." 
"Daddy!" you whined apologetically, tears freely flowing down your cheeks. 
"There you go, not so hard huh, princess?" Seungcheol teased, an arm wrapping around your shoulders while the other cupped at your cunt. "Color, my love?" 
"G-green, daddy.. Pl-Please... just j-ust cum in me." 
"Fuck, you sound so broken... So greedy for my cum." Seungcheol relentlessly fucked up into you, until his pace grew erratic and bent you both forward. He stopped himself with his forearm to the mattress so as not to crush you, but with your muscles already weak, you simply face planted into the soft hotel pillows, drool and tears staining the white sheets.
"All mine," your husband chanted repetitively, stilling inside your pussy as it clenched around him tightly. Your orgasm rippled through you in a big tidal wave that Seungcheol could just feel your slick coat him anew. Your whole body shook uncontrollably, jolts of electricity alighting all your nerves. With one last loud call of your name, Seungcheol shot his load inside you, white ropes of sticky cum filling your cunt to the brim. His own thighs trembling as he finally collapsed on you, knocking out the little air you had left. He whispered i love you's to your ear, riding out his own orgasm which lasted longer than the both of you expected, especially when he just came a few minutes ago. 
In your two years of marriage, you don't think you've ever been this spent after sex, and neither did Seungcheol. But nothing catches his attention faster than the sound of you sniffing followed by a tiny hiccup. He moves up and pulls out of you so quickly that he hisses harshly, but you whine out even louder, causing alarm bells to ring in his head. 
"nooo..." you cry pathetically, your voice barely above a whisper, "come back."
"Baby, what's wrong?" Seungcheol pulls you towards him, eyes scanning your body for any abnormal pain, dreading the next few words out of his mouth, "did I hurt you?" 
You shook your head no, your hands grabbing at his chest to pull yourself closer to him and bury your face in his neck.
"Princess..." he started gently, still not completely sure if you were really okay. "I need your words. Need you to tell me if I hurt you." 
You choked as you tried to speak, voice straining from all the noises you've made tonight, but you were well aware your crying did nothing to comfort your husband. "I'm okay." 
"Was I too much?" 
"No. Never." You assured with a soft kiss on his chest. "So good to me." 
Seungcheol let out a sigh of relief at your words. "Wanna tell me why you're crying?" He asked, moving you both on your side so he could look at you properly, one hand soothing your back. His warm breath tickled your face, as he tried to wipe away your tears with the softest look in his eyes. 
You felt another squeeze in your heart while warmth crept up in your cheeks, both your hands instinctively covering your face when tears pricked at your eyes once more. You mumbled something but Cheol couldn't really understand and he didn't want to push, so he held you tighter instead, leaving kisses on your shoulder as his free hand brushed your hair. He could feel your tears wet his neck and shoulder and he willed himself to stay patient and calm. 
"I'm sorry," you squeaked after a long bout of silence between you two, "am I scaring you?" 
"A little bit," Seungcheol chuckled. 
You looked up into his eyes, wanting to make sure he knows he did nothing wrong, "I'm just overwhelmed," your voice began to crack again at the last word, "I... I just... I really want a family with you, Cheol," you sobbed, your hands attempting to cover your face again but your husband was quick enough to grab at them. His own cupped your face instead, a thumb wiping at your tears as he let out the brightest smile, his own cheeks dusted in a light pink shade. "I really want this to work, Cheol." 
"I do, too, baby but in our own time, yeah? If it’s for us, then it will happen one way or another. Let's not pressure ourselves too much. I don't want you to pressure yourself too much," your husband comforted, "Besides, with or without kids, I already have you... and Kkuma… you're already family to me."  
You were pretty sure you felt your heart grow a size bigger at his words, mentally thanking the heavens you had a husband who adored and loved you so much.
Your moment was cut off by the incessant buzz of a phone and when you looked towards the bedside table to check, sure enough your device was vibrating towards the edge. Picking it up to stop the ring, your eyes grew wide at the notification that flashed on top of the screen, a smile dancing on your lips as you comprehended the app’s words in black font.
"Cheollie?" 
"Yeah?"
"I'm ovulating."
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Feedback and reblogs are highly appreciated ☺️
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conelluwrites · 21 days
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the red means i love you
Reader/Doppelgänger Francis (main focus on the doppelgänger aspect) (reader goes by she/her and is described with vaginal terms)
posted on my AO3
word count: 2.6k
title from The Red Means I Love You by Madds Buckley
Contains: monster fucking (doppelgänger fucking), headcanon design for non-disguised doppels, barbed dick, breeding, and blood drinking
You let the wrong one in, but maybe it's not as bad as it seems when you invite him back to your apartment.
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“Mmm…”  The voice sounds uncanny, too similar to Francis with the slightest hint of a purr that the tired milkman would never express, “I’m rather thankful that you let me in earlier, you know?”  His uniform is clean and tidy, well put together in a way that Francis would never be able to achieve due to his early morning risings.  His hair is just barely out of place.  Things that no one would notice-- things that make her wish that she had called Francis’ apartment to see if he was home.
“W-Wha-!”  The doorman stumbles back in fear, causing her to bump her back into the chest of the doppelgänger who all too readily wraps his arms around her waist.  One of his hands trails down her rigid arm and grabs the hand of hers that is trembling its way towards the phone.  Even if he didn’t intervene, the D.D.D. would not arrive in time to prevent any damages, he was in the safety room.  His fingertips are inhuman, too sharp but not yet undisguised, as they intertwine with her own to prevent her from dialing the number she memorized so easily.
“Shhh, shhh…  There’s no reason for you to be afraid.”  He coos, brushing his nose against the exposed flesh of her neck.  “No need to scream, no need to squirm, no need to put up a fight…”  His voice is velvety but now lacks the tiredness the real Francis carries.  It’s not surprising that he’s giving up his disguise piece by piece, she assumes that it must take some level of effort to be so near-perfectly disguised and she knows at this point she’s utterly fucked.  “I could take you away from this annoying position forever if you want.  No pesky D.D.D. agents, no more anxiety from our kind, no more living in fear.  Sounds pretty nice, hm?”  His free hand goes to hold her chin, his sharp thumb slightly digging into her jawline.
“But I gotta protect my neighbors.  My job-- sitting here and looking at everyone and their documents, it might suck at times but it keeps everyone safe.”  She says, her voice trembling.  Her throat is bone dry from fear, her chest aches from the uneven breathing leaving her slightly open lips.
“Oh, my dear, that’s such a noble sentiment.”  The doppelgänger sighs dramatically before shaking his head.  He spins her around in his grasp, the hand that was holding hers goes to her waist.  His fingers trace along her jawline, making sure to keep a gentle, but firm, grip on her so she cannot try to escape.  There’s a bright grin on his face, his teeth too white to be human.  “But how many times have they let you down?  Surely they have failed you before.  People are fickle creatures; they don’t appreciate what they have until it’s gone.  I promise to protect you, sweetheart, just let me stay with you tonight, hm?”
Her mind races, so many thoughts of her own death and the death of her neighbors.  “How do I know you won’t hurt me?”  The answer is obvious-- if the doppel were going to hurt her, he already would have.  He’s stronger than her, stronger than any human and she’s still in his grasp.  If he wanted to maim her, he would have already.  “You doppelgängers just want to kill and eat us.”
“Ah, you misunderstand me, darling!  I could never harm a hair on your lovely head.”  The doppelgänger earnestly insists.  His thumb brushes gently across her cheek, trying to so lovingly convince her.  “All I want is to hear more stories about your day and listen to those sweet little fears of yours…  And yes, perhaps indulge myself in some delicious blood as well.”  He’s whispering intimately, as if they’re a pair of lovers.  The grip on her waist tightens slightly but remains mostly gentle, it’s almost comforting despite the sharp nails against her shirt.  “C’mon… please trust me.”
“But I-”  her voice dies out the longer she allows herself to fall into the illusion of mutual trust.
“It’s okay, my love,” he murmurs understandingly, “don’t overthink things, hm?”  He kisses her temple tenderly, a perfect imitation of love between humans.  His eyes flicker towards the phone, allowing even himself to dream of a different world where he could whisk her away and keep her all to himself.  “Let’s just go for now, let’s go somewhere private where no one can bother us.”
She relents easily, tearing her gaze from his face and allowing it to travel down the white uniform before making its way back up to his face.  “My apartment is on the first floor.  We… We can go there together.  We don’t have to worry about others seeing us, everyone else is in for the night.”
Francis’ grin grows even more, his canines growing sharper than any humans can be naturally, “That sounds perfect.”  He sounds appreciative, leading him gently to the door to exit the safety room.  The walk to the apartment is short.  As the apartment door closes, the intensity changes slightly; he is watching her carefully while also taking the new space.  “Nice place.  So cozy…”
“Thank you….” She murmurs. “I figured it’s safer for you to be here than anywhere else in the complex.”
Francis’ doppelgänger hums thoughtfully before nodding in agreement.  After the brief exchange, he takes the opportunity to explore the small apartment, touching things lightly as if trying to understand their purpose and history though touch alone.  Every movement exudes confidence in his decision-making process, evaluating the potential of each object.  “You’re so brave, you know.  C’mere.”
She walks over to him hesitantly and stands there.  The doppelgänger is taller than her.  Despite it all, since he’s imitating one of her neighbors that she’s rather fond of, she feels herself relaxing.  He wraps an arm around her waist casually, pulling her close while leaning down until their hands nearly touch.  He inhales deeply, enjoying the warmth that a human being brings.  He drawings circles on his back with his free hand.  He continues to lean down slowly -- closer and closer to her neck.  Her breath hitches as his nose finally meets her neck.  Her hands meet his waist and tighten slightly, crinkling his shirt.  Adrenaline is racing through her body, making her tremble slightly but she refuses to pull away.  The way the doppelgänger rubes and nuzzles his nose into the crook of her neck is the sweetest thing she’s experienced recently.
The doppelgänger lets out a satisfied rumble, savoring the sensation of her trembling beneath his touch.  If anyone saw them now, they’d assume it was two lovers locked in passion.  His lips brush against the skin he finds lightly before he stops abruptly.  “Promise me something -- promise that you won’t run away.”
“...”  She considers his words carefully.  Every primal instinct in her is begging her to run, to get away as fast as she can.  But she hasn't and, to be honest to herself, she doesn’t want to.  She’s rather content staying like this, being in his arms with his face buried in her neck.  She know he could bite her, sink sharp teeth in her neck and finish her life in less than a second, but she finds herself trusting that he won’t.  “ I promise.”
“Good girl.”  He praises softly, finally giving into temptation and pressing his teeth gently against her neck.  Not hard enough to yet draw blood, just merely teasing her.  His arm tightens around her as the gravity of her promise fully settles between the pair.  The danger she’s in never fully dissipates but mixes well with the affection he’s showing her.  “You deserve a reward for trusting me.”
“Oh?  Like what?” She asks, her grip on him loosening as her body adapts to the unfamiliar situation.
Francis’ doppelgänger chuckles, the vibrations tickling her neck.  “Don’t fret, just something that will make us both happy.”  With a groan, he allows his disguise to slip further and further, his teeth sharpening.  They puncture her skin ever so slightly, blood trickles immediately out of the small wounds.  With a satisfied hum, he pulls away and licks his lips, allowing blood to pool.  “Just relax, enjoy this moment.”  She struggles out a broken moan; it’s not necessarily painful but it reminds her of how weak and vulnerable she is in the moment, a feeling that is intoxicating.  “Relax.” he murmurs against her skin soothingly.  There was no aggression or hunger driving him, it was just to provide nutrients for him to continue his time with her.  Slowly yet deliberately, he licks up the collected droplets while sucking lightly on the wound.  He alternates between suckling and licking the wounds, moaning.
“Y’gonna leave a hickey on me.” She sighs out, her body relaxing even further.
“Only for me to look at later.”  He promises, his breath hot on her dampened flesh.  The rhythm slows down until it stops altogether and he pulls away.  Slowly and carefully, he raises his gaze to meet hers.  “Now tell me more about those annoying D.D.D. agents.”
“I don’t know much about them, to be honest.  They don’t hang around after the cleaning procedure and they don’t talk to me aside from congratulating me on living another way.”  She says, swiping a bit of her own blood from his lips with his thumb.
“You should know more than that.”  He growls. “We could use your help some day.”
“We?  You want me to help the doppelgängers?”
“Of course.  Someone like you, someone so skilled at calling us out…  You could be helpful in our cause.”
“I don’t believe that’s such a worthy cause…” She murmurs, resting her head against his chest.  His heartbeat is inhuman, too slow to be human, but it’s relaxing.  “Though…”
“Though?  You would be safe -- you’d be part of our family.  Perhaps one day I could introduce you to some of the ones I’m closest to.”
“Mm.”  She weighs his words carefully.  In a disturbing, unacceptable way, it’s almost sweet.  “I suppose that, as long as I’m protected by you, I’d be honored to meet them.  Does that make us mates?”
“Indeed.”  Silence stretches between them for a moment.  “In our world, we share souls upon consummation.”  He stares into her eyes after the statement, gauging her reaction based on his customs.
“Ah, like marriages for humans then?  Do you want to consummate our bond?”
The doppelgänger stiffens slightly at first before relaxing.  “Yes.  But we must proceed cautiously.”
“Why’s that, my love?  Is your genitalia that different?”  She asks, leaning up to nuzzle her nose against his for a moment before pulling away and going to stroke his cheek softly.  The skin is rubbery and like ice against her fingers.
“Hm…  No, not quite.”  There’s a beat of uncomfortable silence, he allows her mind to wander with possibilities.  “Our release is also quite different, I believe.  Is that okay?”
She’s quiet for a moment, allowing herself time to fully comprehend the possibilities ahead of her. “Yes.  I want to be your mate, so please…  mate with me the way doppelgängers do.”  Francis’ doppelgänger feels a surge of triumph.  The transformation starts gradually as he allows himself to rip through his disguise.  The clothes rip and tatter, falling to the ground around him as she lets him go, allowing him to fully transform.  Glistening black scales peek through skin like moonlight reflecting off ocean waves, his fingers grow out to sharp daggers, his arms and legs elongate as his muscles tense.  His teeth barely fit in his mouth, the sharp points poking slightly over his lips.  His cock is impossibly thick and long, tiny barbs lining the sides as it oozes black pre-cum.  He lifts her effortlessly, his hands on her ass as he carries her to her bedroom and places her gently on the bed.
“Lie back.”  He commands quietly, watching every breath he takes with anticipation and hunger.  She lays back, obediently as he hovers over her patiently.  There’s no shame or hesitation in his gaze as his hand travels up her shirt to lift it over her head.  She tugs off her pants, leaving her in her bra and panties.  His gaze is full of pride.  “You’re mine now, my soulmate.”
“You’re perfect.”  She says softly, cupping his face and kissing his monstrous face lovingly.  Her lips meet his rough lips and pointed teeth.  She winces preemptively as his sharp claws make easy work of her panties, tugging on the fabric until it tears away and reveals her glistening sex.  The thick, black sludge lubricates his cock, making it ease into her cunt slowly and easily despite its grand size.  She feels the tiny barbs grow slightly, just enough to dig into her walls to prevent her from squirming away or resisting.
He hisses appreciatively at the compliment and the feeling of her heat enveloping her slowly.  “You’re tight.”  He grunts out raggedly, thrusting deep.  The sensation matches beast-like intensity, every movement echoing throughout the small bedroom.
“Hah, you’re bigger than I expected.  So fuckin’ thick.” She pants out, her cunt swallowing his cock with little resistance.  “I was scared about the bars, but shit…  your cock is so perfect for me.”  The doppelgänger lets out an animalistic moan at her declaration, his thrusts becoming more aggressive and intense.
“That’s it!  Take everything I got!”  He exclaims hoarsely, nails digging into her hips.  “Answer me, would you want children?”  He gasps urgently.  Despite the heaviness of the question he posed, he keeps pushing relentlessly -- seeking assured release.
“I-I-!  Yes!  I want to swell with your young.”  She says lovingly, moaning.
He roars at his words, bowing low to catch her lips.  The kiss is filled with dominance and ownership.  “Perfect.”  He growls into her mouth, shifting positions easily so she’s on top of him.  “Ride me until we’re done.”
She straddles him easing, wincing as the shift in positioning digs his barbs deep into her cunt.  “Fuck, baby…”  She breathes out, her hands on his chest.  Her hips raise up and down rapidly despite her legs trembling greatly.
“Let me see those pretty eyes looking into mine.”  He orders hoarsely.  He hisses as her cunt adjusts.  The pain she felt was only temporary, but served its purpose well: reminding her whose body she was riding, a dangerous creature holding immense power over her.  His own gaze burned with need and desperation, pleading silently for satisfaction.  
She looks into his eyes obediently, so full of adoration for the monster.  “I-I-...”  Her breath hitches, she can’t finish her sentence.  She’s too embarrassed to admit her love for him.  Instead, she leans down to kiss him.  Her soft lips meeting his rough, uneven ones.
“Say it.  Tell me how much we mean to each other.”  He demands huskily.  His barbs grow slightly more, haling her movements for a single second.  It’s a sign of his nearing climax that’s mirrored by her frantic movements once she adjusts to the growth.
“I love you, fuck, I love you!”  She moans loudly.  Her cunt begins to quiver and massage his cock.  “Cum in me, cum in me, cum in me.”  She whimpers as his barbs dig in even more as her tight walls convulse around him.  Suddenly she can feel a torrent of his dark, murky cum release deep into her cunt.  His cock swells greatly, making her gasp and cum around him.  Her slick dribbles down his cock and coats him.  Her body slowly relaxes as his barbs retract but he remains swollen.  She lays limp against him, breathing heavily.
He roars hoarsely, pumping several times harder with his thickened cock.  He remains still, breathing heavily with his arms tight around her as he lays on his side, holding her tight to his chest.  It’ll take several minutes for his cock to decrease in size, but it’s unlikely that either of the two will be awake.  “Our bond is sealed.”  He rasps against her ear, nuzzling gently against sensitive skin.
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ponderingmoonlight · 3 months
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Gojo being your enemy (or lover?)
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Pairing: Gojo x reader
Word Count: 1,4k
Synopsis: Your family told you over and over, pounded it into your head since childhood: Satoru Gojo is your enemy, you are simply not allowed to feel anything but hatred towards the Gojo clan. But why do you find yourself lost in his arms each and every night, begging him to love you right?
Warnings: mentions of smut, it's getting heated (intimate touching) but not "real" lol, language
Finally, my first fic after quite some time! Let me thank every single one of you for your patience and sticking with me, I'd be more than honored if you show some love 🤍
„There you are, I searched everywhere for you.”
Just the sound of his melodic voice sends shivers down your spine, makes you break out in sweat. God, it should be forbidden to be this gorgeous, it shouldn’t be allowed for a man to be this charismatic. But oh, Gojo Satoru is. And you hate the way you feel about him.
“And I avoided you as good as I could.”
But at the same time, you can’t keep your mind off him, can’t keep your hands to yourself, can’t stop yourself from shamelessly staring at his delicious jawline, can’t control the urge to get under him. His body pressed against yours, skin to skin while he whispers the filthiest thoughts into your ear until you scream his name into the night.
“You know we’re alone, right?”
The raspy tone in his voice makes your eyes dart up in an instant. You know all too well you shouldn’t even look at him, that you need to keep your safe distance. Why is it so damn hard to resist him? The curse of your family, the enemy of your bloodline. Your family and the Gojo clan hated and fought each other since the beginning of time, making your whole childhood consist of nothing but hatred towards their golden child. But that golden child circles around you like a hunter around its prey, takes off your clothes with the sheer force of his bright blue orbs alone.
“We shouldn’t be.”
Your mouth is dry like the desert, the overwhelming feeling of losing your consciousness eats you up alive. It’s so wrong to stand in front of him, to let him linger over you with his much taller frame. Gojo Satoru is your worst enemy, the one and only thing your family warned you about. Why is it so damn easy to fall head over heels for him?
“You know you can leave anytime. I’m not forcing you to stay with me. But if you do you won’t regret it.”
You swallow down the lump building up inside your throat, doe eyes fixated on his dangerous ones. If they’d see you here, only inches away from the greatest member of the Gojo clan, you’d be screwed to infinity.
“We can’t do this anymore. We’ve already crossed that line way too often. You and me, we are…”
“Enemies, lovers? It’s completely up to you, (y/n). I couldn’t care less about my family’s opinion-“
“You should care, though. Our lives depend on it”, you reply urgently.
“Don’t you know who I am?”
His deep chuckle almost sends you over the edge, the way his eyes linger over you makes you hold your breath. That way too confident bastard who thinks the world belongs to him exclusively, who thinks he’s a god walking on earth. How much you hate his cocky smile, his immense powers, his arrogant appearance. Somehow your family is right for hating him, somehow you get why they want you to stay away from Gojo Satoru.
“You’re an arrogant bastard”, you bite back.
“Watch that mouth, (y/n). Why are you still here, huh? Feel free to leave if you wanna get away from me so bad.”
Your heavy breaths hang in the heated air between both of you. Just one stretch of your finger would be enough for your fingertips to brush over his broad chest. Just one touch would be enough to light the fire between both of you again. Why do your hands start to shake all of the sudden? Why is your heart almost beating out of your chest?
It’s because of him.
“Leave”, you press out while moving an inch forward.
“Just leave and never come back.”
“Or what?”, he breathes out, caging you between the cool wall and his burning body.
Get yourself together, think about your family. Gojo Satoru is your enemy despite being a jujutsu sorcerer as well, you aren’t allowed to even talk to him, you should leave right here and now, you-
“Fuck”, you hiss through gritted teeth before wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him towards you roughly.
You press your lips against his as hard as possible, teeth brushing over each other, making your lips swell in an instant. His strong arms are immediately wrapped around your frame, keeping you in place while he teases you with his tongue. Without mercy, over and over. You can’t catch your breath, hands searching for hold on his shoulders.
“I hate you”, you jeer against his parted lips before wrapping your legs around his hips.
“Oh yeah? Then let me show you how much I hate you as well”, he bites back, kissing that sweet spot on your neck that makes you see stars.
You can’t help but moan, press yourself even harder against the growing sensation in his pants, digging your nails into his uniform. God, how much you hate that guy. You shouldn’t be here, shouldn’t let him come near you, shouldn’t allow him to even touch your body.
Suddenly his hand wanders down your body, further and further until he cups your crotch roughly.
Fuck.
This feels so good.
No, it feels so bad.
“S-Satoru”, you whimper softly.
Your melodic voice sounds like music in his desperate ears, makes his skilled fingers pick up their pace in an instant. Oh, how precious you look with your eyes rolled backwards into your skull, how well his name suits your filthy little mouth.
This. This is right where you belong. Between his arms with his hand between your thighs.
“You like that, huh?”
You press your lips together and close your eyes, try to escape the sensation that builds up inside of you. No, you shouldn’t feel this good, you shouldn’t let him have this much power over your body. Screw Gojo Satoru and his skilled hands, screw that bastard for always making his way into your pants.
“Hell no I don’t.”
“Is that so?”, he teases.
Roughly, he snatches his hand away and cups your cheek, forcing your glossy eyes to look up at him. He looks absolutely delicious with his hair being a wild mess and his puffy lips ready to get kissed again.
No.
You shake your head, avoid his gaze. This is wrong. You shouldn’t even be here. If you leave now and go back to your apartment, you are able to pretend that none of this ever happened. Yes, Gojo Satoru will be nothing more than a comrade you have to endure, nothing but a plague in your life. Everything will turn out alright if you leave right here and now.
But your hands still hold onto his shoulders for dear life, you still whimper softly with every breath you take, your heart still races in desire. Fuck, why is it so hard to let go of him?
“I give zero fucks about our families hating and fighting each other. I want you and nothing else, you understand? We don’t have to do this in secret, you don’t have to pretend that you hate me while you don’t. I want you, (y/n). And I need to have you.”
You hate the way his words make shivers run down your spine, how your heartbeat picks up in an instant. The thought of having him alone is enough to almost send you over the edge. But oh, how could you forget his reputation with women, the things you’ve heard from Shoko? You are nothing but a trophy for a man like him, nothing but a price he hunts after.
You take a deep breath in and out, tame down your beating heart. He might be hot, but he’s still your enemy. Don’t forget where you came from, don’t let yourself fall because of a man.
“You only want me to brag about it. I’m not just one of your many toys, Satoru. And I’m too good to be yours. I’d rather keep you as my enemy.”
With a swift motion, you free yourself out of his grip, remove your touch from his burning skin. Fuck, should you turn around and fall back into his open arms, let him fuck you until you see stars like usual? As much as your body begs you to stay, as much as you miss his touch, you can’t.
After all, Gojo Satoru is your enemy, right?
…Right?
Tags:  @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix  @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut  @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly  @froufrousnowman @tomiokathedepresso  @gojosrealwife  @coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain  @risuola  @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny @ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr @kayleegomez @belovedvamp @wifenanami @chilichopsticks @dlwlrmas-world @oikawarz @darkstarlight82
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tarjapearce · 9 months
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As My Own
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Miguel O'Hara x Daughter'sRoomate!femreader .
Don't think I have forgotten about the requests 👀.
WARNING: Fluff. A tiny squeeze of angst, Rotting tooth fluff, daily snippets of life, anxious dad.
Summary: Gabi wants a mom. And who is Miguel to deny such wish?
Requested Here. Hope you like ❤️ Feedback is highly appreciated.
Sighing for the third time in a row, Miguel looked fondly at the pictures of his daughter through the years, until she grew out to be a lovely young lady, whose talents in soccer had earned her a scholarship in college.
Despite being terrified of the idea of Gabriela spreading her wings and soar into life itself, he knew the moment would come sooner or later, more like, right now. He was unpacking some boxes into the apartment Gabi would be staying, and if he was honest, the idea of her sharing a room with someone else didn't appeal that much on his trust issues.
If it wasn't for the house renovations needed to be done ASAP, he'd make sure to get Gabi a place for her own.
------
Emancipation had taken a toll on him and his mind, The once girly and colorful room filled with drawings, trophies and medals with a soccer player motifs, soccer star posters, some consoles and games, was now an empty space full of memories.
When Gabi gave him the news of her moving out completely, made his heart to shrink and break, but he knew that he had to let her go. Gabriela was 19 at the time, doing good at college, had found herself a half time job and a new roommate. The last one seemed the most preoccupying thing on the list. Was it a man? Did she eat well? Did she get along with them? Probably had gotten her a couple of fights, were they older? Was his Solecito safe?
It had been three years since she left home and pursue her superior studies and a professional soccer player career.
His mind was racing with the infinite questions and his stress gnawed at his chest, his phone buzzing interrupted his accelerating thoughts. He opened the message log and sighed in relief to see Gabriela's name on the screen.
He tapped at the message and his heart nearly melted at seeing Gabi with a goofy expression on her face, her hands making a V sign as she hovered over a small table set for two.
"Dinner time with Roomie~"
The caption read. The food looked delicious and esthetically pleasing at the eye. Nearly Michelin star awarded restaurant quality.
(Name) 's food is amazing! . Btw Im free next week, so come over, I miss you Papa.
Gabi had texted him some couple of hours later. (Name) ; at least he now knew that Gabi shared space with a woman. He didn't trust college guys at all. At least, he could sleep a bit better now. However, something had caught his attention, despite Gabi's competitive traits, she rarely loosened herself around others. And the picture only proved him right.
Gabi was unabashedly goofy and silly on the picture, with a genuine smile on her face. Whoever you were, he was grateful for making his most precious treasure comfortable and safe.
-----
The first time you met Gabi was quite the experience, you had just returned from work to find a lot of boxes loitering the entrance and part of the living room. Books, some baskets with soccer balls and equipment, Somw clothes and more books.
The burning smell immediately alerted you as smoke begun filling in the room. Rushing you opened the window and started to dissipate the smoke away with a towel.
"Oh my god! I'm so sorry!" The young and tall woman panicked as she came out of the bathroom, body wrapped in a towel, just like her hair. Skin still sudsy with soap.
The chaos was tamed, leaving one of your favorite collectible pots, charred and useless.
"I'm really really sorry! I'll get you a new one."
"Don't you worry. Just... be careful. Don't leave the stove on when you are away. You could've burn the place down"
Gabi nodded sheepishly and looked down, when she noticed your chef uniform, the logo of a prestigious place she could only dream to afford in a couple of months and a place where he wanted to take her Papa as a surprise, standing out in your chest.
"Im (Name), the other tenant. Nice to meet you." Your voice was firm, yet kind. The kind of kindness that could insult anyone and still sound charming.
"Gabriela O'Hara. Sorry for your pot. I'll get you a new one"
"Ah stop it. It was just a family relic passed on generation to generation that now will end up in the trash."
You couldn't help but laugh at her panicking and guilty reaction.
"I'm just messing with you, sweetie. I got Ceci on a promo back at the supermarket. Don't worry. It's just a pot. We throw at least one daily at the restaurant. What were you trying to make anyways?"
Gabi didn't know if to be shocked or be laughing at your attitude. She settled for confused.
"Cause it smelled like cheap Mac and Cheese"
Her cheeks flushed and you just chuckled knowingly.
"Freshman?" Gabi nodded and you smiled almost endearingly at her.
"Such a cutie! I remember my first semester at college. Such a mess, terrible food and a terrible roommate"
"You're graduated?"
"A long time ago, yeah, Culinary school is something else. Don't get in there if you like having perfect skin."You chuckled and rolled up your sleeve, showing a few shares of scars and burn marks.
"Anyways, let's have a couple of rules okay? If you follow them, who knows? it can take us places." You grinned.
"No boys after 10 pm on weekends, and if you do, keep it low. Thin walls. Same applies to me, but don't worry about it. Im way too tired to actually do something about bringing my libido back."
Jeesh
Gabi's cheek flushed as her stomach fluttered anxiously.
"You can use my tools for cooking with the only condition to leave them clean and back at their place. Got it?"
She nodded at every reasonable rule you gave her. You had warned her that sometimes you'd be out of town due work, and that left her on charge of the place. It was brought to her attention that despite the place being small, it was conditioned enough to make it almost fancy looking. The kitchen specially.
Of course things just grew from there. At first Gabi was shocked to find you were a couple of years younger than her Papa. And that you had been single for quite a time now. Couple of years to be exact.
But that mattered little as her growing fondness for you was borderline adorable. You had helped her through some really bad times, like getting her a part time job at your workplace after being fired from the college coffee shop, something she never had the guts to tell Miguel.
Then you of course helping her out in her cooking skills, to at least stop eating plain ramen and packaged food bags.
"You're an athlete, you must feed like one."
"But I can't... afford it-"
"Uh uh. Shh." You shook your head and taught her to buy the right sort of meals even under a tight budget. Sometimes she would even find meals prepped for her whenever she had run short on money.
You were there when she got her first college date, and also were there when the young man turned out to be a fuckboy and a prick. Wiping her tears and feeding her a freshly made creme brule. A favorite of hers. You had also Dropped her and picked her up in her soccer practices whenever time allowed you so. She seeked guidance in you
She was there for you when depression was making it's way into your head, she was also there when she helped you to recover from a hang over after another failed date, and nursed you through your terrible period cramps. Even though sometimes harmony seemed disrupted by external causes, such as stress, work and feeling particularly wistful and blue, you'd always find comfort in eachother.
You were amazed by the fact that you realized that she was like the little girl you always dreamed to have.
"How come you don't have children?" Gabi had asked carefully. Despite the trust you hsd built over the years, there was some things you still couldn't bring yourself to discuss so openly, until now.
"I..."
"Sorry if I'm overstepping"
"Nah. I think it's time I actually come clean about some stuffs."
"Are you sure?" You nodded and sighed
"I can't have them"
Surprise drawed into Gabi's eyes as she stared at you.
"Infertility?"
"Yup. But... It's fine. I've come to terms with it, so..."
You trailed and she swallowed as her hand was placed above yours.
"For all it's worth? I'm sure you could have been an amazing mother."
Could have been
" To me, you... you are."
Gabi mumbled as tears swelled up in her eyes, threatening to fall. You stared at her, heart leaping in your chest
"Like... You are like the mother I never had... My Papa is amazing, but sometimes I actually yearn for a different kind of love." She hiccuped and you frowned, holding her closer.
"Like a mom. I want... I want to go shopping and talking about boys and how stupid they are. I want... to be cheered on by someone else at my games and not only my Papa."
Your heart felt breaking bit by bit as Gabi broke before you
"Don't get me wrong, I love Papa to death but... It's hard, y'know?"
"Ah, cariño." An endearment term you had learn from her, "You are such an amazing kid. Im sure that whoever comes into your life to take that spot needs to be amazing, because you're such a special young woman. Look at you, bright future ahead, smart, so so pretty and brave"
But Gabriela didn't want a stranger as her mother figure. She wanted you.
Gabi hid her face on your chest as you held her close, consoling her as much as you could. She remained there until she looked up at you with a suspicious glare
"Maybe I can introduce you to my dad" Your cheeks flushed bright red and she gasped, a bright bulb of an idea popping in her mind, sadness remnants vanishing from her body almost instantly
"No, Gabi, cariño-"
"You can meet him this weekend!"
"That's too soon, I am not prepared! Plus I have work remember?"
"He's staying all weekend, don't worry."
You had seen her adoring Papa through pictures she had showed you. The man was attractive, and looked certainly way too out of your league but of course you never told Gabi about it. You just shrugged it off with a 'Oh, cute'. But now that her plan was on set, you couldn't say no to her.
"Besides, I think it's time for you to actually meet guys. And this time no excuses like Im busy or stuff like that."
"Okay, okay. But if things don't work out-"
"I know, I'll drop it." Gabi rolled her eyes.
-----
Even though the recipe for a certain disaster was cooking, you tried to be optimistic about it. A bit of positive thinking wouldn't hurt you from time to time. However, your shift turned out a bit trickier than usual, since the restaurant had been reserved for a main event for important people.
In the little chance you had, you sent Gabi a little video of how crowded it was, and apologizing cause you didn't know if you were making a double shift and wouldn't be able to meet Papa.
Gabi just sent you a picture of the both with a "Miss you! Dad just came"
------
3 am. 3 am and you were finally done, no more stuck up clients pretending to love raw fish and meats, people that were just actually there for the food pictures and to be able to brag about they were there. Your feet ached, and so was your headache. The good thing was that the company allowed you to take some food home.
Keys tinkered as you grabbed them to finally turn them in the keyhole and entering home and closed the door, angry and heavy steps alerted you as the hulking figure of a man stood in the dark, as the dim lit red iris flashed at you. You had to crane your head up to meet his deep eyes.
Now you wondered where Gabi had came out so tall.
"H-Hello..." You gulped and he sighed, hard expression melting slowly.
"Sorry for... the late hour."
"No, no. Discúlpeme I mean, forgive me. Though someone had broke in, until I heard the keys a bit too late. I'm Miguel. O'Hara." He offered you his large hand that easily engulfed yours.
"Oh, so you're... Papa" you shook it gently. He was warm, and chuckled. "Im (Name). Gabi never stops talking about you." You gave him an amiable smile and put your containers on the dining table.
"Nice to meet you" you began unpacking, aligning the recipients carefully on the table.
"How's... Gabriela doing?" His deep voice snapped your focus for a moment and your eyes darted to his form. Sweatpants in grey, a white fitting shirt that snugged his form a bit too nicely for a short stare. Hair slicked back, pouty lips, thick brows and his deep... red eyes? He certainly was even more handsome in the flesh than in the pictures.
"Oh, she's amazing. Her practice in soccer has improved even more. She has a final next week."
His brow arched at how much information you knew about her.
"I apologize, she fell asleep in your room, despite me telling her that the couch would be-"
"Ah don't worry about it. My bed is big enough for two, and she isn't a kicker in her sleep. So make sure to rest properly. Oh! And welcome for the weekend. Would you like something to eat?"
Miguel shook his head and softly smiled at you. You were pretty. So so pretty that his mind was almost in shortcut when you were removing your chef robe, in the kitchen exposing a bit more of skin. Your left arm was adorned with little burn marks and cuts, you poured yourself a glass of wine when you felt his eyes on you.
"Want some?" You offered the wine and he nodded, a bit reluctant at first.
"Has Gabi acted out of place while I'm gone?" You giggled as you poured him some wine.
"If by out of place means sleeping one hour later than she is used to, yeah. She has." Your hands gave him the cup and he leaned on the table. Gabi groggily came out your room, lured away by the delicious smell of food.
"Hey" She mumbled and hugged Miguel and then hugged you, and remained with her arms around your waist. You kissed her forehead and she smiled.
Miguel entered in spectator mode.
"Hey, cupcake. Want some food?"
"Can I have it tomorrow?"
"Got you a Creme Brule." She grunted happily.
Gabi smiled and went through the bags, popping a chocolate coated strawberry on her mouth.
"Still, I'm too tired to actually eat. Got Papa and I some takeout."
"Takeout?! The good sort of thing I hope" Gabriela groaned as she made her way back to your room.
"Don't steal the fluffy sheets!"
"Yes, mom. Take a bath first, you smell like garlic." she mumbled and went to bed.
Your whole face was as red as a strawberry not because your smell, but for how she had called you, you gulped down the wine and sighed. Miguel stared at you and his chest couldn't help but constrict a little more.
" I apologize for that, Gabriela is..."
"Quite receptive to smells? Yeah."
"And she called you mom." He was more surprised about it than anything else.
"Ah hehe. Yeah, she had been calling me accidentally that a bit more often."
"Does it makes you feel uncomfortable?" He sipped his wine
"Not really. I find it cute. She eh... talked to me about growing up and how things had been for her."
"I must thank you. You have fed her, taken care of her and now even protect her."
"She's a great kid." You nodded proudly. "Couldn't find a better roomie, and a friend. You did a good job raising her, Papa."
Miguel cleared his throat and gave you a small smile.
"I hope she hasn't-"
"Relax, she's been nothing but a good kid all these years. You gotta trust her a bit more."
"It's the people around her that I don't trust"
"Ouch..."
"I mean, not that I dont... just... carajo." you giggled at his cursing as his brows knitted together
"I mean, my daughter trusts you enough to sleep in your bed, call you mom even, so... would be kinda dumb to say that you're a bad person... And I'm not making any sense right?"
You gave him a bashful smile and it was your turn to clear your throat.
"She's been busy at playing cupid. She thinks she is subtle..." You bit your lip and poured yourself a bit more of wine as Miguel rubbed his face, tiredly.
"What about, today at 7 pm?"
"At 7pm what?" He coked an eyebrow to you and Gabriela poked her head out of your room, sighing with exasperation.
"Por Dios pa, Te está invitando a salir!" (My god, Papa, she's asking you out.)
You just laughed and put the food in the fridge
"If you're up for it, that is. It's fine if you don't-"
"Make it at 8. Traffic has lowered by that hour."
"Alright." You smiled and took your chef coat with you.
"Sleep well, Papa."
He downed the remnants of his wine and smiled to himself. He had a date.
------—----
And a second, and a third and a fourth and a fifth. You were such an enjoyable being to hang around. You shared little silly texts, learnt a bit more spanish thanks to him to slowly bring down your language barrier. Even though you understood some words here and there, you wanted to understand so you could also feel part of the secret and long conversations the two O'Haras shared when it came to you.
Miguel was the first in making a move and kissed you around the fourth date. Nervous as you were, you finally felt good enough to just allow yourself to indulge in his company and what he had to offer. Great company, laughs, delicious make out sessions you didn't thought possible at your age.
Gabi had found you both eating each other's mouth in the livingroom
"Get a room!" She'd yell as she locked herself, headphones up her ears, but a beam in her face. Her chest swelled in joy knowing her cupid stunt had paid off.
--------
"You sure about that?"
"Yeah, pa. Like... She's the best. She's so sweet and... makes me happy cause you are happy."
"You'd be the only child, you're aware of that right?"
Gabi nodded upon remembering your words and your condition.
"Having a little sibling at this point would be awkward anyways."
"That doesn't mean I can't try-"
"Oh my god stop..." Gabi shook her head and Miguel smirked
"Payback for not telling me you were fired." She grunted as Miguel held her tightly.
"I think it's time to try something new."
"You'll ask her to marry you?!" Gabi gasped excited with a beam on her face
"Relax, Solecito. We're still knowing each other. And we wanna make sure that things work out before thinking in something so important as that."
"If you let her go, I promise that I won't talk to you again."
"Ouch."
--------
Bit by bit you had small milestones in your relationship with Miguel, you visiting his home back at New York, you staying a weekend in said home, you being introduced to his friends, sharing carneada with his friends, and of course, being found by Gabriela about to have sex, none of you mentioned it during dinner.
To make things even more convenient and better, your restaurant had opened a second branch in New York. Gabi was about to graduate college and of course, you both were saddened that soon you'll part ways. The both were too enraptured enjoying your mother-daughter relationship you had created that forgot about the future.
It didn't help to her sadness when you told her about you and other crew members of your work were selected for a three months workshop in France.
Despite your own sadness, both O'Haras cheered you to go.
"Three months is gonna be torture without you, but time goes so fast. You'll be back sooner than we expect it." Gabi had spoken. And of course, after her graduation, and a kiss goodbye, you flew to France.
Communication wasn't an issue since you talked every day. And still, the gnawing feeling of not being with them made you wish time to fly. You spoke every night with Miguel, telling him how much you have missed him. Even though work had kept you both busy enough, you'd always find a way to talk or text.
And when you came back? It felt like floating in a dream.
"Mom!" Gabriela rushed to you and crushed you in her arms, sniffling and holding you tightly.
"I missed you soo much, cariño." You kissed her forehead, Miguel joined a bit later with a rose bouquet on hand. He pulled you in for a deep kiss.
"Missed you, preciosa".
What sealed the deal for him was seeing you sharing a moment with Gabi. You were brushing her hair as you caught up eith the things you learned in France and how excited you were for them both to taste them.
He asked you to move in with them. And god he loved the feeling of you being around. Gabi was happy, he was happy and you were as well.
Everything about you had captured his heart. Your personality, your way to carry on things, the subtle ways you guided Gabriela without imposing in her autonomy, How much love you seemed to have for them, the delicious feeling of your skin against his on bed.
He proposed a year after. He wouldn't let you go, no no. You were too perfect for him, and a perfect Mom for Gabriela.
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itzjaza · 7 months
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TAZ SKYLAR HUSBAND HC RAHHH🔥🔥🔥
OMG THANKS FOR THE IDEA POOKIE!!!!!!!
Taz Skylar as Your Husband:
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The proposal: Taz had been planning this for weeks. He wanted it to be perfect. He made Emily take y/n out for a girl's day so that he could prepare everything. He cooked her favorite meal, prepped their outfits for tonight, and bought her favorite champagne. When y/n got back it was safe to say she was surprised. After dinner, Taz took Y/n out on a walk at the beach to watch the sunset. As they walked along the sand, Taz took Y/n's hand in his and stopped in his tracks. "I can't imagine a life without you," Taz said, looking deeply into her eyes. "Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?" y/n's eyes filled with tears of happiness. She had been waiting for this moment for so long. "Yes, Taz!" she said, smiling widely. Taz reached into his pocket and pulled out a beautiful engagement ring. He placed it on her finger, and they embraced each other in a tight hug. As the sun set over the ocean, Taz and then pulled her into a kiss that was ruined by their friends knocking them down onto the sand for a hug.
The wedding day: It was a beautiful day in the city, and y/n was getting ready for her big day. She was nervous and excited, but she knew that Taz was the one for her. Taz was waiting outside the church, looking handsome in his suit. As y/n approached him, he took her hand and greeted her with a smile. The ceremony was simple and elegant, and it was clear that Taz and Y/n were both over the moon with happiness. At the end of the ceremony, they exchanged their vows and said "I do". The reception was full of love and laughter, and all of their friends and family were there to share in their joy. As the night came to an end, Taz and y/n said goodbye to their guests and headed off to their honeymoon. It was the most perfect day of their lives, and they couldn't wait to start their life together as husband and wife.
The honeymoon: y/n and Taz went on an amazing honeymoon to a remote island in the Caribbean. They stayed in a beautiful resort surrounded by palm trees and white sand beaches. Taz was the perfect husband, and he treated her like a princess every day. Every morning, they woke up early to watch the sun rise over the ocean. Then they headed out on boats to explore the surrounding coral reefs. Taz showed y/n how to snorkel and they saw all kinds of colorful fish. In the afternoons, they lay out on the beach and relaxed in the sun. They talked about everything and nothing, and y/n felt more in love with Taz with each passing day. At night, they went out for delicious dinners. Taz was a great cook and he would make y/n her favorite dishes. Then they danced beneath the stars to the music of a live band. It was safe to say that y/n's and Taz's honeymoon was the most magical, romantic time of their lives. They returned home with incredible memories and a new level of love and connection.
How he would be as a husband: Taz would be a wonderful husband. He would be selfless, caring, and dedicated to making his wife happy. He would always put her needs first, and would be there to support her through thick and thin. He would be a great provider, and he would always go out of his way to make sure she felt loved and cared for. Taz would be a great conversationalist, and he would always make her laugh with his charming wit. He would be a great listener, and he would always be there to lend an ear when she needed to vent. In short, Taz would be a husband any woman would be lucky to have.
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thoughtsfromlayla · 24 days
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Dreamweaver's Heart
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Summary: The Dream Lord takes fascination to a new lucid dreamer in his realm, his Dreamweaver. The waking world is less than kind and he will travel dimensions to make sure you are safe.
Notes: ~8.6k, this was a request sent in by Anon based on this post! Otherwise, I'm sorry for having this fic take such a dark turn? It was supposed to be sweet but then in my search for more Tom Sturridge films, I came across Like Minds and it fucked with me. So now it fucks with my writing until further notice.
Warnings: Don't ever get attached to the characters I make for the plot, graphic descriptions of gore, death, murder, and drowning, betrayal of a friend, nonconsensual kissing (not from Dream), graphic serial killer activities, run in with a serial killer. Dream's a dream tho, a knight in black armor <3 Happy ending :D
I'm not going to say it's 18+, because it's not NSFW, but some of these themes can be disturbing. Please read the tags carefully.
Masterlist
“One, two, three, four, five, okay,” You count your right-hand fingers to yourself. Then cast your eyes on the watch you always carried on your wrist.
“8:13,” You take another look at your surroundings and take in the fresh air and kind sun. “AM,” you concluded.
You look back to your fingers and count again. “One, two, three, four, five,” You listed off in your head. Then one more time look at your watch. This time it read 5:15 PM, but the sun hadn’t moved. A grin crawls up to your face as you realize that you were dreaming. Lucid dreaming to be more specific. 
When you first heard about lucid dreaming in some off-handed news article you rolled your eyes and went on with your morning. There wasn’t much time in your life to worry about those things, not when another project was due, you had another meeting to attend, or another email to look at. But then life got unbearably hard to live with, stress kept piling up, and your vacation hours kept being declined. 
Your dreams turned from weird but forgettable dreams to nightmares of being chased, drowned, or murdered, only for you to both feel and witness again and again. When you wake up in a sweat at the ungodly midnight hours, you open your phone to find the news article again. It took you well over a month to get the hang of lucid dreaming but it was all worth the cognitive effort. Each time you go to sleep you count your fingers, then your clock, then your fingers, and then your clock again. There are always telltale signs that you were dreaming, dreams tend to never make sense so you look for those things. 
You intake another fresh breath of air and smile, head tilted towards the sun. The city air was polluted with car fumes and sewage smells, and while you loved the city, you do miss the easier days back in the countryside. You imagine the lush meadows, old trees, and the house that your grandfather hand-built for him and his wife. Before you the scenery changes and you’re sitting on a hand-carved rocking chair in a thin shirt and shorts. 
“This is the life,” You groan out to yourself as you begin the rock back and forth, thighs and arms trembling from a stretch. You stay like that for god knows how long, the waking world not a priority of your thoughts as you had the next day off. 
You only get up when sweat begins to collect along your hairline and the sunhat you are wearing begins to become itchy. A farm dog comes up to you and pants at your side urging you to go inside the house, maybe for a cup of lemonade, which sounded delicious the more you thought about it. 
When you look into the house from the windowed front door, a black figure briefly catches your eyes. It walks within the kitchen, running a finger across the worn wooden table and tracing lines of chipped paint over the tops of chairs. Confusion eclipses your face as his figure distorts on the thick glass and you open the door quickly. 
Much to your surprise, there was no such figure when the door opened. Your heart beats inside your chest and you look down at your fingers again. One, two, three, four, five… six. Six fingers, which is odd. You exhale slowly, it’s just a dream you say to yourself and carry on.
While sitting at the kitchen table you pinch your index and thumb together then bring both hands until they meet the other’s fingers. You pull them apart and a delicate golden string connects the fingers together. With a calming inhale of breath you move your fingers purposefully, drawing a picture of lemonade with a glass cup. If only it were this easy in the waking world. 
Lemonade appears on the kitchen table in a glass pitcher and you pour yourself a cup, chugging down the citrusy-sweet drink with a smile. You sit for a while, not particularly thinking of anything, your job had you doing enough of that. The kitchen window was open and you could feel the summer wind and hear the leaves rustling and mourning doves cooing. It was a scene straight out of your childhood, and if you concentrated enough you could hear the lawn mower going in the distance, the smell of freshly cut grass invading the house. 
A bark interrupts your serenity and you look over to the farm dog. He’s patiently sitting by his food bowl with a wagging tail. A small box of dog food appears on a nearby shelf and you go to him with a smile. 
“Are you hungry, boy?” You ask and reach for the kibble. He barks back in return and watches you intently as you pour a small serving. You then thought to yourself that, well, this is a dream and can dogs get diabetes in dreams? Probably not, so you dump the rest of the kibble into his bowl. It piled higher and higher and you can see a satisfied glint in the dog’s eyes as it begins to chow down on its food. 
You wipe your hands off on your shorts and toss the empty box into some unknown void in the hallway and go back to the kitchen. This time, however, two glasses were accompanying the pitcher. One, the glass you just drank out of, and the other, a half-drunk glass of lemonade. The condensation of the cool drink was still on the glass and you could see a clear handprint of where someone had grabbed it. 
You look back at the dog and notice that he is missing and panic sets in again. You look outside the window and the sun disappears, clouds rolling in with a sheet of rain. The ground around you starts to become wet despite the intact roof and it floods over your feet. The water fills up the space quickly. 
You try to calm your breathing and will the water to go away, for the sun to come back, anything to have your hours of peace before you have to wake up. But, nothing worked and the water came over your hips, and you’re hyperventilating now. The rain comes in through the windows in large gushes of water and you find yourself stuck in place, unable to move. 
“Wake up, wake up!” You chant to yourself, tears beading along your lower lash line. You pinch at yourself and are exasperated when you still don’t wake. The water felt too real, it was cold and piercing and you could feel the twigs and leaves of debris that brushed against your legs now and then. “This isn’t funny, wake up!” You cry to yourself again as the water rises higher. 
Behind you, in the shadows, the Dream Lord watches with intent. He always had a fascination with lucid dreamers, after all, they were able to minorly manipulate dreams to their whim. Something that the Dream King wouldn’t admit hurt his ego a little bit… just a smudge. But he had been watching your dreams lately and found it fascinating that you never dreamed of anything grand. No mystical adventure, no aspirations, and certainly no dreams of a more… sexual nature. Which, if he was allowed to comment, may be the reason why you were so stressed in the waking world and needed to find peace in his instead. 
“This dream is over,” He commands and waves his hand over the scene. 
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You wake with a start, the sweat you produced while sleeping made your shirt stick to you uncomfortably and reminded you of your dream. You’re quick to get rid of it and throw it into your laundry hamper, now topless and rushing to the bathroom for a cold shower to calm you down. When you were done, your weekend alarm still hadn’t gone off and you were tempted to go back to sleep again. 
Eventually, you decided against it, unless you wanted to repeat what just happened. Purposeful, dreamless sleep hasn’t found you in a long time and you doubt it would come back just on a whim. You watch the sunrise in your apartment, sighing as sleep tugs at your body still. The cup of hot coffee in your hands felt more like decoration than anything useful as it didn’t give you the energy you craved. 
Thankfully you had nothing to do on your day off and you pat your past self on the back for going grocery shopping last night instead of making you do it today. You spend the rest of the day in bed, reading books on your Kindle and taking breaks by mindlessly scrolling through different forms of social media. Sleep tugs on your eyes but no matter how much you try to sleep, even a nap escapes you. 
The day goes by at a molasses-like pace, you don’t even remember eating. But once the sun has set and the stars made their debut, you happily resign as sleep overcomes you. The Kindle falls somewhere off your bed as you lose consciousness. When you come to your dreams, you’re greeted by a whale… in a tutu. 
Your laughter is hard to contain at the sight as you watched it dance on its fins to Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy, part of your favorite ballet to watch when you were younger. It splashes some water on you and you use your hands to cover your face. It’s then that you remember to count your fingers.
“One, two, three, four, five,” All five fingers. What time was it? You repeat the ritual that has been so ingrained in your head and when you notice that you only have four fingers on your second count, you know then that you have control over the dream. 
“Thank you for your entertainment tonight, my friend,” You wave goodbye to it as the scenery changes around you. 
You’re back out in nature. A low-hanging tree greets you instead and a white and red checkered blanket is laid before it. The blanket had a mighty spread of slices of bread, jams, cheeses, meats, and tea. You make your way over and sit on the soft blanket, slowly picking the foods to taste. The atmosphere was perfect and the wind blew the smell of fresh water into your nose from the nearby pond. Ducks and geese honk at each other in greeting as they swim by. 
Deeper in the picnic basket was more food, but you found them in pairs. Two sandwiches, two teacups, and two dessert cakes. You quizzically stare at them as you hold the two sandwiches, one in each hand. You didn’t eat that much, did you?
“I see that you have started without me,” A voice comments. 
You jump in your skin at the sudden intrusion and look up. You see a man, dressed in casual black with an impressive coat. 
“Isn’t it a bit too warm to wear such a long coat?” You ask instead. 
You don’t protest when he sits next to you and hand him a sandwich instead. He places the wrapped food gently on the ground before taking off his jacket. 
“Better?” He asks as he goes to grab his sandwich again. 
“Hmm,” You only hum in agreement and start to unwrap your own. It’s a few minutes of silent chewing before you realize how weird this is. “Wait, who are you?” 
“No one you haven’t met before,” He answers vaguely. His sandwich was left untouched except for the bread which he threw at the ducks near the pond. 
You chew slowly as you try to digest his answer. He pours you a cup of tea which you drink freely from, murmuring a thanks as he hands you the fine china. The smell of vanilla and peaches invades your senses as you sip on the sweet tea. The favor takes you by surprise at how wonderfully it paired with the sandwich. By the end of the picnic, you have learned two things, your mystery man was great company, and that carbs made you comatose. 
“Oh, my god. I don’t think I’ve ever eaten that much food in one sitting,” You sigh happily as you lay down on the blanket. Your head hits the hard ground and an idea sparks in you. 
Once again you pinch your fingers together and then bring your hands together. You intertwine and loop the golden strings that emit from your movements, much like an old childhood game of yours, Cat’s Cradle, and produce a small pillow. 
You place the pillow down and give it a good smack before laying down again. The sun envelopes you in a kind warmth that makes you smile. You see dancing shadows behind your eyelids when you close them to enjoy the moment. 
You hear rustling beside you and turn your head towards the man lying down beside you. He really was quite beautiful, something more than a man, perhaps a deity. He is lost in thought, almost, as he thinks about your abilities, but he keeps his thoughts to himself. 
“You have a great side profile, you know?” You don’t know why you said that, but rarely in dreams do you know why anything happens. 
Your comment makes him chuckle, a sound that you wish to hear again. It was light-hearted and pure, something that you wouldn’t expect to hear from someone who looked like him. You couldn’t help but laugh along, finding his happiness contagious. 
“Thank you,” He says when he is done laughing. 
When the giggles leave your body, you go back to relaxing and soon you doze off. The rest of the dream is peaceful and pure, no more nightmares to haunt you tonight. The Dream Lord looks at you fondly as the wind blows some of your hair astray, happy to assist you for once in his realm. As long as he is here, you won’t have to fight your demons on your own again. 
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The next morning was the first time in a long time that you felt energized. The old coffee pot is nearly forgotten as you get ready to go on a morning walk, something you have done in a long while. Afterward, a shower, and then lunch with an old friend you haven’t seen in months. He had decided to drop by after his work allowed him to come into the city. 
You meet with Oliver at a local cafe and you order tea this time around, along with some soup and a side salad. The AC is on full blast as more and more people come into the small building. You were lucky to find Oliver already waiting for you at a small table by the large windows. He waves at you when you come close enough and then pushes his glasses back into place. 
“How have you been, Poppet?” He starts right off the bat with a smile, using the same nickname he’s been using since grade 3. That smile brings you back all the way to your younger days when you first met him as your new neighbor. 
You think briefly about possibly mentioning your horrid dreams to him but decide to skip it, seeing as you didn’t want to ruin the mood for today, not to mention the peaceful dream you had last night all but almost made you forget it in its entirety. 
“Oh, you know me, running around like a chicken with its head cut off.” You joke with a self-deprecating laugh. Your comment makes you realize that you have to go to work the next day and deal with annoying clients all over again. “Same shit, different day,” You mutter in conclusion. 
Both of your foods arrive just in time for you to ignore the glare he sent your way. Instead, you find fascination in the soup you choose, the same soup you had for the past three years of your life. 
“What brings you into town?” You ask as you pick apart the complimentary bread. 
“Work, of course. Though I never thought it would bring me to this place.” He gestures to the city around him. 
Oliver works as a farm veterinarian so, rarely, does he come into a large city where each piece of green is covered in concrete or chewed gum. And, of course, there are no farm animals around. He goes on to talk about a conference that he was invited to, something to do with the fight on farm animal antibiotics. You only nod along as you ate your lunch, your talents lie elsewhere but don't want to seem rude. 
Only scraps of your meal are left when the two decide that it is time to depart ways. 
“How long are you staying in the city?” You ask outside the cafe. The weather was almost perfect today, save for the slightly chilling wind that came every now and then. 
“About a week.” Oliver puts on his jacket and then pushes his round glasses back in place. 
“A week, huh?” You thought out loud before a smile came to your face. “You should come by the exhibit later this week. My client is showcasing their art, and going together would be fun.” 
“I’ll be there.” Oliver takes the business card you hand him, the heavy paper turns from warm white to gray as the sun disappears behind some clouds. 
Rain begins to drizzle and splatter on the card. 
“Aw, man. What?” You complain and put your jacket over your head as the rain continues to fall. “There wasn’t a rain forecast today,” You grumble to yourself. 
The two of you step under the cafe awning, the thin fabric providing little protection. 
“Do you want to stay at my place until the rain lets up? It’s just a few blocks from here.” You offer. 
“Lead the way, Poppet,” Oliver says with a smile. 
You smile back as you hype yourself to run through the rain. Thank god you wore sensible shoes today. With a squeal, you run in the direction of your apartment. You hear Oliver laughing behind you as he follows closely behind. Your laughter and giggles continue when you two find the comfort of your apartment and quickly turn up the thermostat when you get inside. 
“Wow, you’ve decorated the place nicely,” Oliver whistles his approval. 
He kindly sets his dripping jacket on the coat rack before you do the same and thank him. He shakes his head, much like a dog, you mused, to get rid of the water as his hair splays out from his actions. You, the more sensible one, simply wrung it out over the kitchen sink. 
“Yeah, if work can’t destress me why should my own home be?” You nodded along. 
The storm had raged harder ever since you got inside, the rain pelting on the window. If you didn’t have company over, you would’ve tossed all chores to the side and huddled up for a nap. Sleeping has been wonderful ever since you figured out lucid dreaming. 
“Poppet, you got a remote for this giant T.V, or what?” Oliver says as he pokes his hands between couch cushions. 
“Erm, yeah, somewhere on the T.V. stand.” Your comment was absent minded as you poke around in your small pantry for some snacks. 
Your eyes lock on packets of hot chocolate you didn’t know you had and what could be more perfect than a rainy day and hot chocolate with a friend? You squint at the box, looking for the expiration date. When you find it, and see that it’s been expired since last christmas, you pretend you don’t. 
There’s probably enough preservative to make the powdered drink last until the end of days, right? Plus who is throwing out food like this? In this economy? You scoff to yourself. 
“Want hot chocolate?” You ask, peeking at Oliver’s form in the living room. 
He stands in front of the T.V., hip slightly popped out to support himself with a hand on his hip and the other on the remote. The news comes on instead of your usual menu of different streaming services and a confused look takes over Oliver’s face when he turns around. 
“No, not that remote, the other one,” You laughed and went ahead to the fridge to warm up some milk anyway. 
“Which remote, you have, like, 13 for no reason!” He cries out exasperated but goes to the stand to find the correct remote.
The news continues to play and with nothing better to do, you listen in while you wait for your milk to warm up. 
“There has been a recent murder here in our lovely city and we encourage citizens to remain vigilant. The killer has not yet been caught and there is no pattern as to what kind of victims they take.” The news anchor speaks. 
“Oh, shit.” Oliver stops his search as he, too, starts listening in to the news. 
“Welcome to the city, I guess,” You shrug with a defeated sigh. The milk starts to shimmer before you turn off the stove. 
“Still, you should stay safe,” Oliver comments as he finally finds the correct remote, turning in to a streaming service and picking a light hearted movie. You’re mixing the chocolate powder, spoon clinking against the non-matching mugs, and when you don’t answer right away, Oliver presses again. “You will be safe, right?”
“Yes, mom,” You sarcastically groan. “I’ll be safe.”
“That’s my Poppet,” He chides, some of his accent slipping through, and sits down. He opens an arm for you to sit next to him before you hand him the hot chocolate that you made. 
“Careful, it’s ho-”
“JESUS!” Oliver exclaims as his face flies away from the mug. His shocked face makes your own burst out into laughter, so much so that you have to set down your mug so that you don’t spill it all over yourself. 
“Are you laughing at my pain?” Oliver jokes and pokes your sides.
The ticklish action only makes you laugh harder, if that was at all possible. Seeing your reaction, Oliver goes to poke you again, and you defend weakly as your laughing makes you all but weak. 
“Sto-stop, you’re going to make me pee,” You choke out between fits of giggles. Your hands were clenched to your sides as a last ditch effort to conceal your weak points. Your cheeks were starting to hurt and your smile was so wide that you couldn’t even open your eyes anymore. You were simply at the mercy of feeling true happiness.
Oliver eventually stops and the T.V. goes into a mandatory ad break (I mean, you’re not going to pay for no ads after already paying for the streaming service, let’s be real). Your energy is sapped out of you and you deflate into the couch with a satisfied sigh. 
“That was the first time tonight I heard you laugh that hard. Has the city been that mean to you?” Oliver asks, now cautiously sipping his drink. 
“The city is not mean, it’s just different than home,” You reply with a roll of your eyes. “I wouldn’t change it for anything though.”
Oliver hums in response, whipped cream stuck on his upper lips. You could tell he wanted to say more but decided to keep quiet instead. Eventually, the two of you fell into a comfortable and familiar silence as you watched the rest of the movie. 
You ended up crying at a particular scene and Oliver, same old Oliver, poked at you again to try and get you laughing. The rain still hasn't stopped and you’re glad to live on a higher floor of the apartment complex or else you would’ve had to worry about potential flooding. 
At the end of the day, you ended up cooking dinner for the two of you as well, convincing Oliver to stay and have a warm meal before going home alone. Especially considering the news about the killer on the loose. You’re on your third movie when the two of you finally finish your late dinner and you fall asleep on the couch against Oliver’s much warmer body. 
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The body underneath you shifts and your eyes snap open. 
“Sorry, Oliver, didn’t mean to fall asleep on you,” You apologize before you’re completely awake. 
“It is nothing of note,” Someone else’s voice responds instead. 
You rub your eyes and take a closer look at him and are surprisingly greeted by your mystery man. He wears the same clothes as the last time you met, only this time it’s warranted as you feel the chilling wind brush against your prickling skin. Unconsciously you crawl closer to him again and he wraps a protective arm around your body. 
Looking around at your surroundings you notice that the two of you were huddled amongst the clouds. Stars and nebulas dance around the two of you in sparkling wonder. When you reach out your hand to touch a star and find it surprising when you are greeted with a cold feeling. Your hand snaps back quickly and you tuck it under your arms to quickly warm up. 
“Guess I’m dreaming again,” You comment nonchalantly and lean back. The clouds seem to know where to stop and you’re lying comfortably by the man’s side again. 
“Ever the perceptive one,” He responds back. 
“I didn’t know I could dream of something this… spectacular,” You think to yourself, taking the risk to rest your head on his shoulders. Besides momentarily stiffening under your touch, he doesn’t move away, something you took as a good sign. 
“You did not, I did,” He says slowly. 
“Hmm, it’s nice, thank you.” You close your eyes and enjoy his warmth. 
Besides you, the Endless smiles to himself at your compliment. To him, it was nothing more than the wave of his hand to gift you this dream. He would be lying to himself if he were to say he hasn’t been waiting for you to cross over to the Dreaming since your last dream. His fascination for your abilities grows stronger yet. 
Yet, he has created a beautiful enough dream that you didn’t find the need to change anything, something he takes pride in. Your waking world has left you tired and weary, and he is here to provide. A tugging sensation pulls at him and he remembers why he is here. 
“My Dreamweaver, I have something to tell you. You must listen carefully.” His words were calculated when he spoke. “You are in danger, be cautious.”
“What?” 
“This dream is over.”
You wake up in your bed with a dry mouth and a pounding headache. When you roll over to look at the glowing digital clock, it reads 3:00 AM. With a groan, you leave your warm bed to tread the treacherous cold apartment for a glass of water. 
You fill up a small cup with some water and notice that by your sink is a small note, scribbled in red crayon. Your tired eyebrows shoot up at the note and grimace at the atrocious handwriting that was undoubtedly Oliver’s.
“Poppet, I can’t find your pens but I found this crayon by the TV remotes Don’t worry I called a cab I won’t get murdered tonight cause I’m vigilant unlike some people Mwah, Oliver” 
That night, your mystery man didn’t visit you again. He only leaves his vague message that echoes in the empty chambers of your heads. You’re plagued with dreams of drowning and despite all you can do to take control of the nightmare, there is nothing you can do but subject yourself to the violent, crashing waves. To constantly inhale gallons of gallons of salty water, to feel your muscles tired out, to feel yourself lose control. 
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Your only salvation throughout the week was seeing Oliver again at the art exhibit. The murders haven’t stopped and it’s gotten enough traction for everyone in the office to talk about it, too. Yet, you could turn to your dreams instead to find relief. 
The man clad in black follows you still into your dreams, any mention of his message is quickly shut down or ignored completely. At the end of the day, you don’t mind, his company is more than enough to make your dreams sweet. He accompanies you through wildflower fields and stardust skies, he brushes your hair by the seashore and tells you the myths of old. Each day is a new dream and brings forth a reason to keep going. 
“A few nights ago,” He starts as he watches you gently touch the petals of a flower made of snow and glass. You turn to him expectantly and urge him to continue silently. “You did not call for me when you were having that nightmare.”
It takes a few moments for you to realize he was talking about your drowning nightmare. The one you so “wonderfully” had after an amazing time in the swirling cosmos. You begin to walk again, your shoes making no noise against the cold snow. The man follows beside you, face tilted towards yours in anticipation. His question had been burning at the back of his mind since it happened and he held on, barely, for the answer. 
“You can’t really scream when you’re drowning.” Your lousy excuse comes out and even you flinch at the words. 
You don’t dare to look at him, knowing the disappointed look he was surely giving you. Everyone knows that anything is possible when you dream, even more when you can lucid dream. After a very pregnant pause you give you real reason. 
“I don’t know your name, how would I call out for you, my sweet mystery man.”
It’s now that he stops walking and after a few steps, you too pause and turn to look at him. In the cold mountains of your dream, the snow is stark in contrast to his ebony form. It is here that you recognize how different he was, like the snow pulls away from any distractions and you look at him, really look at him. The facade of just a man falls away, and within, you see a being beyond your comprehension, held together by sheer will. You were right, he was more than mortal, more than a god, something more in every sense. 
“I am Dream of the Endless,” He says, voice slow, calculated and raspy as he closes the gap between the two of you. “I am the very dream you are in, the voice inside your head, the person you think you’ve met before while walking the street.”
You’re very aware of how close he was to you now, to see the precipitation of his breath, and the way his eyes are never truly one color. His form keeps the winter chill away from your body, warming the very spot you stood in where snow turns into sunlight and the ground beneath you turns to soft valley grass and wildflowers made of toffee candy and sour rope candy. 
“Would you really have come if I called for you?” You ask timidly, head turned down and away from his gaze. 
“Yes.”
“Okay.” You say with a smile, cheeks crinkling your eyes as you look at him again. All Dream could think about was making a sun that shines as brightly as you. 
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Your dreams seem to start leaping out into your waking life as the words of the Endless follow you. Every now and then you would notice a flurry of black and alabaster skin in the peripheral of your vision, but when you go to look it’s nothing but a chair, or a stack of books. His familiar face haunts you when you space out on the bus ride home, or when you’re simply walking down the street and someone bumps into you that just barely looks like him.
Each time you shake your head no, it was impossible, he was only a dream. 
The night before the exhibit, Oliver gives you a text message that explains that he would need to be picked up from another location. A client had called him for an at-home euthanasia early in the morning right before the exhibit. You agreed and were sent an address. You brush your teeth and wash your face before turning into bed, sleep coming easily. 
Your dream starts, as always, with you counting your fingers. Then you look at your watch, and then you count your fingers again. Your clock had 5 hands instead of two and with control over the dream, you find yourself standing in an Asian inspired pergola surrounded by water for miles around. The only sounds that accompany you are the sound of the sloshing water and the wind’s percussion between the mountain cracks. 
You sit on the wooden flooring, cooled by the water, and inhale the scent of fresh water. You bring your fingers together, just like always, and watch as the golden strings move with your movement, producing a pouch of fish food. Large koi fish swim beneath you and you run a finger across the water’s surface and watch with a small smile as they chase your fingers as you sprinkle some of the golden kibble along the water's surface. A koi leaps up and bites your finger and the sharp pain flings your arm away from the water. 
“Ow, what the hell?” You frown and look at your finger, the pouch dispersing into gold dust. Pressing into the digit allows blood to leak from the wound. You don’t have time to think about it when your alarm blares at you and you wake. 
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Your day starts in a rush, slamming your hand over the off button of the alarm clock. You skiddy your way into your bathroom, brushing your teeth, combing your hair and doing your makeup. Your outfit was ready on the door of your bedroom. The casual formal wear was perfect for the day ahead. Comfortable but respectable and easily spotted if someone were to come looking for you. 
You look at your watch before briskly walking out the door, a few minutes ahead of schedule and traffic. When you arrive at the house Oliver had told you to, you stand outside the door as you hear murmuring from inside the door. You remember why Oliver was here in the first place and slowly lean against the wall to wait for him. 
“He was the most perfect dog, he was loved, he was cared for. And it gives me great honor that you allow me to ease his suffering so he may continue to run in the never ending fields of the afterlife.” Oliver’s voice carries through the thin wall. 
Sobbing follows after and hushes of comfort as the dog passes in the arms of the owner. Uncomfortable that you were involuntarily eavesdropping in such a private conversation you start to play with your hands, picking at the nails and the cuticles around them. It’s now that you see, with a quickening heartbeat, a closed over wound on your finger. When you run your thumb over it, the pain long since subdued, you are reminded of a feisty koi bite from a certain dream. 
Was it real then? The dream, or merely the pain?
“Ah, Poppet, you’re here already,” Oliver’s whisper pulls you out of your thoughts slowly. “Is your finger hurt?” He notices and reaches for your hand.
“No,” You say quickly, perhaps too quickly, and move your hands away. “It’s just a scratch. Shall we go?” You turn before you give him a chance to answer. 
The exhibit, while productive, was blanketed over by a feeling of grief and melancholy. Your artist was soaking in the praises of success, but you find yourself sticking by Oliver’s side, drinking mimosas hoping the little alcohol could erase the uneasiness in your throat. Your finger gives phantom pains now and then, reminding you of the breaking cracks between dreams and real life. 
It’s only noon and you’re exhausted, giving the keys to Oliver to drive you back to your place. As if to taunt you even more, the elevator was down for repairs and so arm in arm, you and Oliver make your way up the seven sets of stairs until you reach your own apartment. 
“Oh my God, I can taste blood,” You whine, leaning all of your weight onto Oliver by the fifth floor. He, on the other hand, could not have looked more pristine. 
“When was the last time you exercised?” He chuckles as he lets you rest for a moment. 
You groan as your hand grasps onto the worn metal railing. “I briskly walked to my car this morning,” Your voice is gravelly and hoarse as you use your arm to continue upwards. “After the elevator ride down to the main floor.”
“Good grief, woman,” He jests. “We need to get you to the gym.” 
“Over my dead body,” You huff as you make your way again, steps heavy and stomping, the sound echoing in the empty chamber. 
The barren of your door gave you the last bit of energy to finish. The sight of your couch was enough for you to flop onto it and simply wish to perish. You’re breathing heavily out of your mouth, face to the ceiling and bounce when Oliver sits down next to you with exaggeration. 
“Don’t be dramatic,” Oliver teases, barely winded by the seven flights of stairs. You on the other hand felt like you had just come from a week at sea with nothing but a row boat and canned crackers. 
“I’m going to go shower, do you want to stay for lunch?” You ask, already halfway to your room after you caught your breath. 
“No, I’ve got my own thing to do, packing mostly.” You hear Oliver’s voice from the bathroom. You turn on the water to let it warm up and peek out of your bedroom. “Alright, I’ll see you off in a few days, yeah?” 
Oliver’s outside your door and the sudden proximity makes you jump in your skin. 
“Geez, you scared me. I thought you were still in the kitchen,” You say behind a small laugh. 
“I’m going to head out, alright? But yeah, let’s meet one more time before I leave later this week.” Oliver smiles and pokes your forehead. 
“Sounds good,” You agree, staring at the finger. 
“Stay safe out there, Poppet.” He waves and goes for the door. “I’ve got a cab waiting for me downstairs.”
You use the shower to cleanse yourself of not only the physical properties of today, and more importantly the sweat you accumulated walking up the steps, but also the more emotional toil. The warm water seemingly soaking up all of your depressive thoughts. It runs down the water and out the drain, and you feel lighter when you step out. 
You’re drying your hair with your towel when you see the brown square that is Oliver’s wallet sitting on your couch - opening it and seeing his ID card clarifies it. You groan as you know that he can’t get anywhere without his wallet, especially if he wants to leave. 
An internal debate was settled with going to his place before you pick something up for dinner. You place the wallet by your keys near the front door and make yourself some lunch, and put some much needed laundry into the washer while it cooks. You watch a small episode while you eat before returning to your work laptop and answering emails. 
The day goes by quickly and the rumbling of your stomach tells you that it’s time for dinner and more importantly, returning Oliver’s wallet. You redress in the same clothes you wore earlier that day, deciding to just deal with the high heels as any other shoe wouldn’t tie in well with your outfit, and you were not going to go out looking anything less than put together. 
How lucky you were when you walked down the hall to find the elevator back in operation. Down, down you went, seven flights of stairs to the parking garage. The echoing beep of your car tells you where Oliver had parked for you and you climb in. 
Traffic was a pain in the ass and you couldn't take another slow minute during dinner rush. Beeps and honks accompany you all the way to Oliver’s home and it takes a solid 45 minutes to travel 10 miles. You knock on Oliver’s door and you don’t know why but you’re nervous. There wasn’t an answer and you knocked again. Nothing. The door is unlocked and with a shrug to yourself you enter. 
All of the lights were turned off when you entered, fumbling about to turn on the lobby light near the door. The rented home was much bigger than your medium apartment and you seriously start to regret your career choice. 
“Oliver?” You call out, taking off your shoes and putting them aside. 
No answer.
“Ollieeee…” You sing out as you make your way further into the house. You drop the wallet on the dining room table and still nothing. You knew he was here, somewhere, the rental car he had was still in the driveway when you pulled up.
You bring out your phone, about to call him, when a small noise directs you to a staircase that leads downstairs and you make your way into the finished basement. When you open the door, something you never thought you would see greets you instead. Yes, Oliver was there but so was another woman. She’s tied down to a wooden table and you think you’re interrupting something if it wasn’t for the way her teary eyes snap towards you. Despair is washed out with a small glint of hope as her trembling hand reaches for you. 
“Help me,” She pleads. 
Oliver calls your name, almost breathlessly, and walks closer to you. In his hand holds a small knife, blood already smeared on the glinting metal. He greets you with a smile, but your attention is on the woman on the table. 
“Please.” She sobs again. 
You’re numb, on the brink of hyperventilation, and you’re sure that if you had gotten dinner before coming here you would’ve thrown up all over the vinyl flooring. 
“Oliver,” You gulp down as you take a step back.
He advances with another step, knife still in hand as the blood drips down onto the floor. He approaches you like a predator to scared prey, and he wouldn’t be wrong. His weaponless hand wraps around your wrist, warm and alive just like all of the other times he has done since you became friends all those years ago. 
“Come here.” He guides you closer. “This is our guest, Poppet.” He introduces. 
The woman squirms against her restraints and cusses. “Stop calling me Poppet, my name is fucking Alora, let me go!”
Oliver guides you closer and then slinks behind you, using his body to trap you from the exit. From this distance you can see the cuts and bruises Alora endured and you lean away in denial. Bile crawls up from the bottom of your throat begging to be released, it’s acidity painful to swallow. Alora’s tear stains seem permanent as another one follows its path as she watches the two of you lean over her. 
“Let.. let her go,” You say with a shaky breath. It’s the opposite of assertive, the opposite of a demand.
Oliver sighs behind you and slams the blade down on the table and both you and Alora flinch at the sudden noise. He laughs behind you, the breath tickling the nape of your neck. 
“I thought we could… share her,” He responds. You feel his lips on the junction of your neck and your body trembles again. 
“Share… her,” You echo.
This wasn’t real, there was no way this was real. No, you were definitely dreaming, Oliver took you home and then after your shower you fell asleep. He never left his wallet at your place. Oliver heals, he would never… 
You look down at your fingers, they’re shaking but still countable. One, two, three, four, five. You look at your watch, and with dread you notice that everything is in its place. One, two, three, four, five. It’s still the right time. One, two, three, four, five. 
“A dream, this has to be a dream. A nightmare.” You lie to yourself. Your thumb presses into each of your fingers and to your dismay, there are still five. 
You look down at Alora again, her eyes wide and begging and her fingers go to grab at you. 
“Ah, ah, none of that.” Oliver notices and pushes her fingers away from the two of you. 
His attention turns back to you again. “What do you think of it?” He asks, his hands resting on your hips and to your further disgust inhales your scent. 
“What do I think of it?” You echo again except this time it was more harsh, judgemental as it should be. 
Oliver scoffs and leaves your side. He walks to the other side of the table, knife back in hand as he points it to Alora’s face. 
“Look at Poppet here, notice anything?”
That’s when you look at her, really look at her. At first you didn’t see it, or maybe your mind was simply trying to prevent you from seeing it, but under Oliver’s scrutinizing gaze you notice with teary eyes. Her hair was the same color as yours, so were her eyes, they even mimicked the way yours were shaped. Her lips curled just like yours as they’re upturned in agony. 
“I think I’m going to be sick,” You gag, your hand flies to cover your mouth as you dry heave. 
“No, don’t be, my sweet Poppet,” Oliver comes to you again and holds your face steady. His eyes have always been like they are now, caring, soft, non-dangerous, but seeing his actions made you doubt everything. “Here, you can watch for the first time instead, how about that?”
“Wh-what?” You gape and he pulls away from you. He places the knife over Alora’s throat and her sobbing and pleas grow louder. 
“NO!” You scream and go to reach for the knife, unsure where the sudden bravery comes from. But, it’s too late, he slices, you feel the way his muscle moves under your palm, how it grips the blade, how it ticks when it kills.
The blood sprays and decorates you in its red and sticky liquid and you’re left stunned. Beneath you, you hear as Alora chokes on her own blood as her body trashes as a last ditch effort of escape. Oliver looks at you with a smile, his white shirt decorated just like yours. He looks at you with adoration and something like pride as he places the knife down and comes to you again. 
“You look even more beautiful in red, Poppet,” He compliments, but it falls on deaf ears. His lips press to yours in a one sided kiss and you weakly push back. “Let me clean everything up and then I’ll take care of you, okay?”
You stand still as you watch him, rag in hand as he begins to clean. 
“You were the most perfect person, you were loved, you were cared for. And it gives me great honor that you allow me to ease your suffering so you may continue to live free in the never ending fields of the afterlife.” Oliver’s familiar eulogy snaps you out of your shock, if not for a brief moment. 
It’s enough for you to run out the door, adrenaline blazes down your spine and pumps to all of your limbs. The door almost flies off its hinges as you open it into the dark night. You don’t know where you’re going to go, but anywhere is better than here. 
“Poppet! Wait!” Oliver screams behind you and he’s fast to catch you. 
Your bare feet scrap across the concrete sidewalk as your vision blurs with salty tears. You trip into an alleyway and sob, your pristine clothes now covered in dirt and blood, and you hear the crack of your watch as it breaks under the fall. At the edges of your mind, a small girl with wild and colorful hair peeks at you in fishnets, the world warps, distorting the difference between reality and delirium. 
A moment of clarity comes to you as you remember something. It tries to fall between the crevices of your mind but you grab onto it and hold it close. 
“Would you really have come if I called for you?”
“Yes.”
“Okay.”
“Dream,” You cry out into the darkness. Oliver finds you on the ground and his arms pick you up. “No, no, let go of me!” 
The man clad in black doesn’t show his face and you beat yourself over it, because of course he doesn’t. It was just a dream. This is reality. Despite it all, you try one more time. A name falls on your tongue, one you didn’t previously know. 
“Morpheus!” You scream and the calling echoes in the suburban neighborhood. 
Oliver pays you no mind and hoists you onto his shoulders. You’re pounding at his back but his muscles never falter. He walks back with heaving breaths to his house when he is suddenly stopped and drops you. You unceremoniously roll and then sit quickly to run away again. You’re stopped short at the sight. 
In front of Oliver stands a man, his form fuzzy at the sides and blends in to the night around them. He wears a helm made of bones, accompanied by a bright ruby necklace, and a leather pouch of sand. 
“Dream?” You question and his gaze turns to you. You can’t see his eyes past the large bug-like design of the helm, but you know he sees you. 
“Who the hell are you?” Oliver sneers at him.
Dream doesn’t reply and instead he shrinks back into the shadows and wisps around until he stands in front of you. You hide behind his back as he protects you from Oliver. 
“Hey, get away from my Poppet.” Oliver takes a step forward but is stopped by Dream’s words. 
“Be quiet,” He commands. It’s two words, but it renders him speechless. “I turn you into prey. Your judgment upon you is to be hunted. Even after you wish for death, you will form into another and be hunted again. This is my gift to you, Oliver Barlowe, make good use of it.”
The curse is etched in stone as he speaks. He pours from his leather pouch and sand falls between his fingers. He curls then unfurls them before blowing the particles into Oliver’s face. You watch with horror as his form shrinks under the swirling sand and he turns into a shrew. He runs into the grass, his brown fur lost amongst the foliage. 
“Hello, my Dreamweaver,” He whispers and crouches to your height on the cold concrete. He extends a patient hand and you grab hold. “Come, nightmares shall hunt you no further.” 
“You came,” You say, still in disbelief as he helps you stand. 
“I kept my promise. I do not break such vows, ever.” His fingers gently wipe away the tears from your face. 
"You're real," You whisper, still not believing that he stands before you.
His fingers trace across your bottom lip as he comes closer to you still. Dream doesn't say anything, he simply soaks in your presence, drawn to you in a way neither of you could comprehend. His fingers still trace your face, running over your nose and the apple of your cheekbones.
You feel the swirling of sand around your feet and the world changes around you. You’re in the meadows again, surrounded by flowers made of snow and glass, and you see the cabin your grandfather built. Dream sits you down on a white and red checkered picnic blanket with two glasses of lemonade. 
“Will you stay?” You ask as you grab the cool glass cup of lemonade. Your gaze turns to the sweet yellow drink and you rub the smooth glass as a way of calming yourself. 
“Yes.”
“Okay.” You smile. 
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Alsooooo, very inappropriate use of being a veterinarian, we don't kill people and we don't make that much money, sigh
My Sandman comics came and they're so heavy... Second also, Comic Dream is such a mood
Maybe a more lighthearted fic for next time, hmm?
♡ Yours, Layla
157 notes · View notes
togrowoldinv · 7 months
Text
Farmhouse
Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader
Natasha brings you home to Clint’s farm and you share a soft day with the family
Note: I love love love auntie Nat and those kids deserved Nat to stay alive, so in this fic she did. Enjoy the softness!
Natasha Romanoff Masterlist 1, Natasha Romanoff Masterlist 2, Main Masterlist
One of Natasha’s favorite places in the world is Clint’s farm. When he first helped her defect to Shield, the farm was her safe haven. Laura and Clint were so nice to her. It was the first time in years that she felt anywhere was a home.
Natasha has continued visiting over the years, so she knew when she fell in love with you that she would bring you home to the farm. After much kissing, she convinced you to get up at the crack of dawn to fly to the farm. The kids would want to see her when they wake up.
“Are you ready, detka?” Natasha asks you as you stand on the front porch of the farmhouse. You’ve seen pictures of it before but being here you can really feel the sense of home Nat gets from it.
Nat takes your hand in her strong one and opens the door. The house is quiet, only the soft hum of fans can be heard. Natasha walks with practiced direction and leads you into the kitchen.
“Nat,” a woman, Laura you recognize from photos, greets her. “Come here, honey.”
She stands up from the table and hugs Natasha. You’re surprised by Nat’s easiness to fall into the woman’s arms. The only other people you’ve seen her hug so casually are you and Steve.
“Laura, this is my girlfriend y/n,” Natasha says.
“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Barton,” you greet her.
“Oh please, call me Laura!” She says and pulls you in for a hug. Nat watches on with a smile.
Laura tells you that the kids will be up soon, so you better prepare for the quiet house to become chaotic. Nat takes you upstairs to drop your bags in her bedroom. While you’re up there, little feet patter across the floor.
Natasha steps into the hallway and looks towards the bedrooms.
“Nate?” She asks.
“Auntie Nat?” The little boy matches her questioning tone.
“Yeah buddy, it’s me.”
“Auntie Nat!” He yells and steps out of his room completely. He runs to Natasha, who picks him up and holds him tight.
“Good morning, Nate,” Natasha says. “This is y/n. Can you say hi?”
The boy rubs his eyes and leans further into her, clearly enjoying her warmth. You understand.
“He’s still sleepy,” a voice comes from behind you. The prodigal daughter stands there with a sleepy grin.
“Lila,” Natasha says softly.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” Lila says as she practically jogs to reach Nat for a hug.
“I missed you, malyshka,” Natasha says.
She hugs Lila while still holding Nate in her arms. He’s drifting off to sleep.
“Y/n,” Nat addresses you. “This is Lila, aka my favorite kid.”
You all three chuckle.
“Nice to meet you, Lila,” you say. She feels a warmth in your greeting.
“You too,” she says. “Coop will be sleeping for a while, so we should probably go downstairs.”
Lila leads the way and you follow her with Nat and Nate trailing behind. The little boy is completely asleep, but Nat doesn’t mind. If anything, it warms her heart that he is comfortable enough to drift off in her arms.
Downstairs Laura begins to cook breakfast. You try to help but she tells you that company shouldn’t cook. You sit next to Nat at the table and converse with the family as the day begins.
Breakfast is delicious. And you already feel like a part of the family. Nate even lets you cut up his pancakes so you take that as a win.
You move to the living room afterwards to sit with Nat. Nate runs around and plays while Lila and Cooper play on their phones.
Natasha seems lighter after just a couple of hours of being at the farm. You lean against her shoulder and she kisses your cheek. You sigh contentedly.
“You okay?” Nat asks.
“I’m great,” you tell her.
You shift to look into her eyes and see her smiling at you. Natasha lifts your chin up with her hand and kisses your lips softly.
“Gross,” comes a remark from Clint of all people.
“Shut it, Clinton Francis!” You tell him.
His mouth opens in shock. Natasha, Laura, and the teenagers die laughing.
“Natasha, how dare you tell her about my name!” Clint yells.
“Sorry,” she says unseriously. “She got it out of me.”
“It’s clear who wears the pants in this relationship,” Clint jokes.
Natasha pulls you closer as the conversations continue. You really feel at home with these people in this place.
You think one day you’ll get a farmhouse of your own and live out your days with Natasha there.
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alwaysonthemend · 4 months
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Author's Note: Hello hello and welcome to the first installment of my holiday fics! Up first, I had some requests for sub Jake, breeding kink, and one incredible ask talking about how we should appreciate Jake's ass more (I wholeheartedly agree) Thank you for reading and if you see any typos... no you didn't.
Word Count: 3940
Content Warnings: sub Jake, dom reader, cussing, gratuitous use of the word ass, orgasm denial, dry humping, unprotected p in v sex, breeding kink (stay safe out there folks!) and a lil bit of fluffy domestic Jake. I think that is all but as always please tell me if I missed something. 18+ ONLY. MINORS DNI
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It’s no secret that Jake has a lovely ass. And there’s really no other way to put it. And even worse, Jake knows that he’s got a great ass and loves to never let you forget it. And really, Jake only brags about it to you because he knows how much you love it. He’d caught you ogling early on in your relationship and he’d never let you live it down since. 
And if you’re being honest, you play into it plenty on your own. Any time he passes, you love to smack him if you can – sometimes hard, sometimes just enough for him to feel it without anyone else noticing. Jake has a body that makes your mouth water – the most delicious mixture of strong and soft, curves and hard lines of muscle. He’s a rare thing, really. And thus deserves to be appreciated as such. 
And so even though the two of you are hosting a lovely, wholesome family gathering at your house for Christmas, you still feel the need to let him know how sexy he is. 
You enter the kitchen to find him humming quietly under his breath, moving gracefully between the counter covered in ingredients and the stove. He’s got his hair tied up in a low, messy bun (your favorite) and has the apron that you bought him as a joke two years ago tied snugly around his waist. He looks positively delicious. 
“Smells wonderful.” You tell him, stepping fully into the kitchen. 
He glances up from his work, a sweet smile that crinkles in the corners of his eyes gracing his lips. 
“Thanks, babe.” He says, tilting his head as you come up to him. 
Smiling mischievously, you place your hands on his cheeks and pull him down, laying a searing kiss on his lips before pulling away with a smug smile. 
“Woah.” His eyes sparkle as he looks at you, a slight blush tinting his cheeks. “What was that for?” 
You shrug, grinning innocently at him. 
“Just doing what the apron told me to do.” 
Jake chuckles, glancing down to where Kiss the Cook is written in fancy red letters across his apron. 
“Fair enough.” He inclines his head, his attention diverting back to the stove. 
“And besides,” you begin, your hand sliding down from his shoulder to cup his ass and squeeze. “Your ass is looking extra lovely tonight.” 
“You say that every night.” He says, turning his body back around to face you fully. His hands find your waist and he walks you backwards until the small of your back presses into the counter. “I think you just like to tease me.” 
You shake your head, grinning up at him like the Cheshire Cat. You wish viciously that you didn’t have a group of guests waiting out in your living room so Jake could bend you over the counter and fuck you right here and now. 
“I just like giving appreciation where it's due, is all.” 
He hums, leaning down to seal his lips over yours again. You can’t tell if it's him, the heat from the stove, or both, but you feel like your body is on fire. A breathy little moan escapes you as his tongue slides between your lips and his grip on your hips tighten.
“Jake.” You whine, a throb taking up residence between your thighs. “Don’t tease. We have company.” 
Jake only laughs, pressing a thigh between your legs and putting pressure on your throbbing cunt. Then, without warning, he lifts you, setting you down on the counter and pressing himself in closer to you.
“They’re not staying all night.” He murmurs, his lips hovering just over yours. “I wouldn’t let them. I still have to give you your gift later.”
Your brows raise slightly at his words, though you’re having a hard time focusing thanks to the feeling of him being so very close to where you want him. 
“We already exchanged gifts this morning.”  
His grin is downright feline as he regards you. 
“This one is special, though. I can’t give it to you until tonight…” he runs a calloused finger over your nipple, pinching it and rolling it so that it hardens, “once everyone is gone.”
You can feel the wetness pooling in your underwear. You hook your legs around his hips, pulling him in tight to you and moan as the rough fabric of his jeans brushes slightly against your clit. He’s got one hand on your hips, the other placed palm down on the counter as he leans over you – the very picture of a man who is about to get exactly what he wants. 
“Jake, I-”
“Really?!” 
You both startle and Jake’s eyes snap to the doorway like those of a child who’s just been caught doing something he shouldn’t. Josh stands with his arms crossed, a disgusted, incredulous look on his face. 
“It is… definitely what it looks like.” Jake says with a shit eating grin, stepping back away from between your legs and straightening his apron. 
“In the kitchen? Where we make the food?” 
“Sorry, Josh.” You say, hopping down from the counter and strolling past him, squeezing his shoulder as you go. “Just couldn’t control myself.”
Jake chuckles, turning back to the stove to stir something. 
“She can’t resist, Josh. It’s really not her fault.”
Josh meets his words with an affronted look and a gagging sound before following you back out into the living room with the rest of the guests. 
“You both are gross.” He grumbles, shuddering a bit at the grin on Jake’s face and the flush to your cheeks. 
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It feels like time moves at a glacial pace. Dinner had been fantastic – you’re convinced that Jake was a chef in another life, but you were more than happy when your guests finally began to leave. You and Jake watch them go, thanking each of them for coming and wishing them a merry Christmas. As impatient as you had been all night, it was still nice to have everyone together – a rare and difficult feat these days given how crazy everyone’s schedules are. And everyone being free tonight had been nothing short of a Christmas miracle. 
As you stand in the doorway waving as the last car pulls out of your driveway, like a cat, Jake stalks up behind you quietly and leans down, pressing his lips just above your ear. 
“Can I give you your gift now?” 
You startle only slightly before you spin around to be met with Jake’s dark eyes staring at you. 
“I’ve been waiting for hours.” You whine, and you can’t even find it within yourself to be embarrassed for how needy you sound. 
Jake smiles widely, his white teeth glittering. 
“And I’m going to make you wait just a few more minutes.” 
You open your mouth to protest but Jake silences you with a look – that same domineering look that he always gives you in the bedroom. Your mouth snaps shut and he smiles appreciatively. 
“I’m going to go upstairs and get ready and you’re gonna wait down here until I text you to come up.” He raises a brow at you, silently demanding whether you understand. You nod once, afraid that your voice will fail you. “And when you do come up, I want you in nothing but your bra and panties.” 
“Yes sir.” 
With that, he spins on his heel and ascends the stairs, leaving you a wet, shaking mess in his wake. With trembling fingers you pull off your shirt, thankful that the blinds had been drawn as the guests began to filter out. The fire in the fireplace crackles as you step out of your skirt, leaving you in only your undergarments just as he had asked. With nothing else to do, you fold them and place them on the back of the sofa so that you can easily come and get them in the morning. (You have a feeling that Jake isn’t going to let you leave the bed for the rest of the night). 
Finally, your phone pings with a text from Jake. You don’t even bother reading it before scampering up the stairs, your heart pounding and your thighs sliding easily against each other thanks to your wetness. 
As you reach the top of the stairs, you can see the door to yours and Jake’s bedroom cracked ever so slightly. Taking a deep, shaky breath, you push it open to be met with the warm glow of the mini Christmas tree that you had made Jake put in here. The fragrant scent of cinnamon and sugar wafts through the air thanks to the candles that lay lit on just about every surface. 
And finally your eyes find Jake, completely bare and leaning back in the middle of the bed, his thighs spread and his cock already hard and leaking with precum. His smooth skin washed in warm light looks damn near edible. His eyes look almost black, half-lidded and watching you closely. He’s taken his hair down, letting it fall down to rest against his shoulders. With one hand wrapped around his cock and stroking lazily, he grins at you.
“Jake, what-?” You’re at a loss for words. Your mouth has gone dry and you’re sure that your eyes have widened like saucers. 
“Your gift.” He says, his voice smooth as velvet. “Me. However you want me.” You feel as though you might combust on the spot. “All the control. Tie me up,” his eyes cast upwards to the hook on the wall above the bed that is always reserved only for you, “make me beg, don’t let me cum. Whatever you want. Just for tonight.”
“Holy fuck, Jake.” You murmur, stepping closer to the bed  and practically drooling at the sight. “This is…” You can’t find the words. It’s everything. He is everything. 
“Come on, baby.” His voice beckons and your feet move seemingly without your knowledge of them until you’re standing right next to him. “Don’t know where to start?” He mocks, darting his tongue out to wet his bottom lip.
You really don’t. He’s always the one in control, always the one telling you what to do. And now here you are, suddenly with all the power resting in your hands. There’s so many choices you can’t even decide. 
Jake chuckles. 
“I finally give you what you want and you can’t even choose.” His voice is saccharine and his hand still works over himself slowly. “You weren’t shy earlier when you came and grabbed my ass where anyone could have walked in and seen.” He reminds you, and the words are like a switch deep within you and a wicked, filthy idea pops into your mind. 
“Stop talking.” You find yourself saying, your voice coming out far smoother than you were expecting. 
Jake’s eyebrow quirks up. 
“Oh?” 
“I said stop talking.”  This time the demand in your voice is clear and Jake’s jaw snaps shut. “And stop touching yourself.” Obediently, his hand falls limp at his side. His breathing picks up. 
Without a word and with fire between your legs, you crawl into the bed. Jake is the picture of delicious sin laying there prone and waiting for you. You glide a palm down his leg, stopping at his calf where you trace small circles into his skin. 
“You’re so pretty, you know that?” You ask softly, though you aren’t expecting a response. In fact, with the way Jake’s chest heaves and his cock twitches at your use of the word ‘pretty,’ you already know that you’ve found a nerve without him uttering a single syllable. “You are,” you continue, letting your eyes glide up his form – over his strong thighs, over the soft curve of his stomach, to his broad shoulders, his glossy hair, his beautiful face, “so, so pretty.” 
A soft whine escapes him and fuck it’s the most beautiful sound you’ve ever heard. You want to get lost in him, to lick across every inch of his gloriously exposed skin and to make him whine like that a thousand more times. All things that you will do later. But for right now, the ache between your thighs has become unbearable and you need to find some sort of release before you can start in on him. And you have the perfect idea for it. 
“Lay on your belly, Jakey.” You murmur and you watch with lustful eyes as he complies immediately. 
You swear under your breath as he settles and your eyes land on that beautiful ass of his – so plump and round. You splay your palms out on each cheek, kneading into the thick flesh. Without warning, you lay a harsh smack against it and he cries out – the sound like music to your ears as you watch the way his ass jiggles from the strike. 
“You know how much I love this, don’t you?” You ask, leaning down and placing a gentle kiss on his right then his left cheek. 
Jake nods, a breathy little ‘yes’ hitting your ears, muffled slightly by the pillow. 
“It makes me so wet.” You admit, rising slightly and moving yourself upwards so that you’re straddling one cheek, pressing your clothed clit into the ample muscle. “I’ve always wanted to ride it. Imagined how good it would feel on my clit.” You experimentally rock your hips and your body shudders at the pleasure it renders. “You don’t cum yet, baby. Okay?”
“Okay.” His voice is broken – breathless and needy. 
You roll your hips, the friction positively delicious and you can’t help but to cry out. You keep it slow, just enjoying the feeling. It’s better than you could have imagined – and far better than any pillow that you’d done this to in the past. With each drag, Jake moans beneath you and the sound drives you wild. 
You lean forward and place both of your hands on his lower back, digging your fingers into the flesh and using the leverage to grind your hips harder against him. You begin to bounce, abandoning any thoughts other than the release that you’ve been aching for since your run in with Jake in the kitchen all those hours ago.
With each roll of your cunt against his ass, Jake’s hips press down into the mattress making his cock rut into the mattress each time. He’s a whining mess beneath you, the friction enough to get him to the edge but not nearly enough for him to cum yet. Just enough to drive him mad beneath you. 
"Fuck." Jake mumbles, his lower back arching downwards and his ass pushing up into you more. As much as you're enjoying this, he seems to be enjoying it, too.
You slow yourself down again, sensually undulating your hips and exhaling shakily.
"You feel so good, Jake." You praise, keeping that slow pace of your hips. Jake's only answer is to moan beneath you and you can't help but to imagine doing this again. And fuck, you know that you're never going to be able to even think about his ass without growing wet... let alone admire it with your eyes.
Spurred on by the thoughts of how sexy you find this position and by the way Jake is whining and wriggling beneath you, you begin to pick up your pace. You know that you're not going to last. You can't hold it off any longer. You need it.
With yet another slap to his ample backside, you roll your hips faster, that low burning in your belly morphing into fire as your orgasm finally hits you. You toss your head back and cry out as the waves crash through you. You keep moving your hips against him, drawing out your release as long as it can go. Finally, when your body begins to shiver with overstimulation, you fall off him. 
“Y/n.” Jake whines, rutting his hips harder into the bed.
“Don’t.” You warn, stilling him with a heavy hand on his lower back. “Roll over.” He does, and you’re pretty sure you’ve never seen his cock so hard before. You press a hand to each of his knees and spread them wider, giving you plenty of space to settle between them. “What’s got you so worked up, baby?” You tease, eyeing him like a piece of candy. 
“You.” His voice cracks on the word and he clears his throat. “Hearing you.” 
“Aww.” You say sweetly, pinching the top of his cock between your fingertips. “So sweet, Jakey.” You’ve never really used that nickname much before, especially not in the bedroom. But right now, with him pliant and needy beneath you, it seems fitting. This isn’t the Jake that you usually have during sex – the rough, dominant Jake. This Jake is soft and delicate and oh so desperate for any bit of relief. Jake's body tenses and jerks, a cry falling from his lips each time you ghost your fingertips over the swollen head of his cock.
“Please.” He arches into you, his stomach muscles tensing and untensing as he tries to control himself. 
“Please what?” You can’t help but tease him. 
“Touch me.” 
You giggle and continue to play with just his tip, switching between squeezing and delicately tracing it with your fingertips. You can't stop the amusement that you feel. He's so sensitive, so receptive to each ghost of a touch.
“I am touching you, babe.” 
He groans, tossing his head back harshly into the pillow. You only laugh and wrap your hand around him fully. He’s hot and pulsing in your palm. You smear his precum around him and begin to pump him slowly, drawing a deep moan from him as his eyes squeeze shut. 
“I’m getting why you enjoy this so much.” You say and Jake blinks his eyes open at you. “Seeing you all squirmy and desperate.” 
Jake opens his mouth to reply but you tighten your fist and speed up a bit. 
“Oh fuck!” He groans and his hands reach out to grab you – whether to pull you in closer or to make you speed up you can’t tell (he probably doesn’t even know either), but you immediately let go of his cock at the motion. 
“Oh. I forgot.” 
You rise up a bit, reaching up and over Jake to pull open the top drawer of his nightstand, your fingers quickly finding the silk that Jake loves to use on you. You tap Jake’s chest and he surrenders his wrists to you without a fight, holding them next to each other as you loop the scarf around them and then hook his arms up on the little peg above the headboard. 
“I think the power has gone to your head.” Jake murmurs, his brown eyes watching you with nothing short of reverence. 
“Maybe a little bit.” You shrug, settling back between his legs. “I just can’t help myself though. You look so pretty like this.” 
“You like calling me pretty, don’t you?”
You shrug again and resume your stroking on his aching cock.
“And you like being called pretty.”  You challenge, speeding up your hand. 
Jake’s only answer is tossing his head back and arching his back, the muscles in his arms straining and flexing as he fights against the restraints. You move your hand quickly, so quickly that your forearm burns. Pleas and whines fall from Jake’s lips without so much as a breath in between, his body fighting between pleasure and pain. You can tell that he’s close, his mouth completely open and his chest flushed and glistening with sweat. You keep going a moment longer before bringing your hand away completely. 
“Y/n.” Jake cries, his hips rising off the bed to try and follow your hand. 
“I told you not to cum yet.” You remind him, laughing at the desperation on his face. “You’re not gonna cum yet, right?” 
He shakes his head quickly and a bead of sweat rolls down his temple. 
“I won’t. I won’t.” He whines and you reward the plea in his tone by starting again. This time keeping your pace deliberately too slow. “More.” He begs you after what could have only been a minute, those beautiful eyes of his boring into your own. 
“And you won’t cum?” 
“Promise.” 
You give him what he wants, pumping him faster and pressing your thumb into the spot just below his head just like you know he likes. He’s panting and writhing beneath you and his legs begin to shake as he nears that edge yet again. 
“Jake.” You warn, but you don’t let up, you don’t slow down. 
His whole body is tense and his muscles still fight against where his arms are restrained. 
“Jake.” You warn again and his mouth drops open with a loud moan. “You better not cum.” 
“I can’t- I’m gonna- fuck, stop!” 
You do and he sighs in some mix of both relief and disappointment. He’d been so close. 
“Good boy.” His eyes crack open at that and a tired smile graces his lips. 
“It’s definitely gone to your head.” He says, trying to get his breathing back under control. 
You giggle as you reach behind you and unclip your bra. Jake’s eyes fix on your bare breasts and he bites his lip. 
“This is torture not being able to touch you.” 
“I know.” You laugh as you slide your soaked panties down your legs and toss them somewhere in the room. “Now you know how I always feel.”
“You ever gonna let me cum? It fucking hurts.” He says, his voice pitched higher. 
“So whiny.” You tsk, settling yourself on top of his thighs. “But still being so good for me.” 
He preens at the compliment, practically purring beneath you. You reach up and unhook the silk from the hook, freeing his wrists at last. You grab them and place them on your hips for him. Immediately, his grip tightens. 
“I’m gonna ride you, Jakey. And you can touch me as much as you want now.” 
“Thank you.” He breathes out and you can tell that he really means it. 
You reach between your bodies and grip his cock, guiding his head to your folds and finally you sink down on him. The stretch is delightful and so so perfect and you both moan at the feeling. 
“Holy shit.” Jake says through clenched teeth, fingers digging into your hips. 
You rise up and slam back down on him, immediately setting a brutal pace that you know neither of you will last long with. Already, you can feel your second orgasm approaching and Jake is absolutely losing it beneath you. His eyes have clamped shut and his mouth hangs open. Moans slip past him with each thrust and you can feel his cock twitching inside you. 
You stop for a moment and he makes to protest before realizing what you're doing. You rise up and plant both of the balls of your feet on the bed, squatting over him as you start to bounce again. This time, the new angle allows him to slip even deeper into you.
"Jesus."
"Fuck, you fill me up so good, Jake."
Your thighs burn but you don't stop. You won't stop if only to keep that face on Jake for a moment longer. His brows are tipped upwards, his hair sticks to his face from sweat, and his plump lips are parted in almost a snarl. You've never seen him like this – as if he truly is doing all he can to not fall apart this very second. Jake has always been vocal during sex, never afraid of moaning or crying out when something feels good (so unlike most men that you've been with). But tonight it's like he couldn't control himself if he tried. Moans, whines, even whimpers fills the space between you, mixing so beautifully with the sound of his cock moving through your wetness that has begun to drip down your thighs. This moment, here with him like this... it's like Heaven on Earth.
“I’m gonna cum.” Jake tells you and you keep going, nodding and crying out as his tip hits that special place inside of you. “Fuck, Y/n.”
It’s a warning. You’ve been together for years but you’ve never let him cum inside of you before – no matter how many times you’ve seen the disappointment in his eyes when you ask him to pull out. It was never the right time. You’re both always so busy and you never wanted to risk it. But right now... you don’t care. He’s always been patient with you. Never pushes for kids when he knows you’re not quite ready even though he wants them so badly. And really, the odds of getting pregnant with where you are in your cycle right now are low anyway. But you find yourself thinking that if tonight doesn't work you'll be trying again soon. You want this with him. It’s almost the New Year and what better a way to move into 2024? Jake has proven time and time again that he will always be by your side and as you ride him, after he's given himself wholly and totally over to you... fuck, it sounds like the most wonderful thing in the world.
“Y/n! I can’t hold it! Fuck!” Jake’s voice is desperate, his body so tense you’re worried he might hurt himself somehow. 
“Give to me, Jake!” You cry through a moan, your hips grinding into his at a merciless pace. “Fill me up! Fuck, please.”
That’s all it takes. Jake yells as he finishes, a feral growl starting deep in his chests that builds up into a mighty cry as he spills into you. You can’t hold on any longer yourself and your orgasm tears through you. Stars explode behind your eyes and Jake’s body twitches and shakes beneath you as your walls clench around his spent cock. With one last exhausted roll of your hips, you collapse at Jake’s side. 
“Shit.” Jake breaths out, his chest heaving and his skin slick with sweat. "Best sex we've ever had."
“Yeah. Fuck.” 
“I-" Jake swallows once and inhales deeply through his nose for a moment. "Thank you. ” His voice sounds tired but soft and warm. Those two words are simple, all he can think of to say. But they carry the weight of everything and you both know it. He rolls over to face you, those chocolate eyes of his looking at you with so much love you think you might cry.  
“Merry Christmas.” You answer him softly in return. It seems you also had one last gift to give him this Christmas.  
He laughs and the sound rumbles deep in his chest. 
“Merry Christmas.” 
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navybrat817 · 11 months
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Pros and Cons
Pairing: Sugar Daddy!Andy Barber x Female Reader Summary: You weigh out some of the pros and cons of Andy's offer. Word Count: Over 3k Warnings: Slow burn, reader is broke (is that a warning?), sugar daddy offer, t/easing, slight insecurities, inner monologue, Andy Barber (he's a warning, okay?) Graphic talent and thanks: Banner - @sgt-seabass, Divider - @firefly-graphics , Header - yours truly A/N: Welcome back to my Terms and Conditions AU! Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby (thanks!), but any and all mistakes are my own. ❤️ Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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Looking back, you weren't sure how you got through your meal with Andy. Lunch was delicious, as expected from such a top restaurant. The conversation was easier than you thought after his offer, though you didn’t say much more. The quiet moments were more comforting than awkward and he didn’t push for you to speak. But all the while, he kept his attention on you. You had a feeling he was trying to get a read on how you would move forward.
You opted to skip dessert, your stomach still a bit in knots. Andy didn’t appear surprised or upset, quietly paying the check. You weren’t entirely sure you could trust yourself if you stayed longer, his soft, inviting smile urging you to say yes.
Does he already know my answer is going to be yes?
"Are you sure I can't take you back to your place?" he asked when he walked you to the curb, his hand on your lower back as you waited for the cab.
You quickly shook your head, firm in your stance. Andy didn’t need to see the part of town you lived in. You had a feeling he would soon enough, but you weren’t ready for that. Not today.
“Are you sure?”
"I'm sure," you replied as you faced him. Up close, his eyes reminded you of the sea on a stormy day. Has he already swept you away? "I just need the day to think things over and figure out what questions I have."
You wouldn't allow yourself to go into this blindly. The two of you had to have a serious discussion to make sure you were on the same page. The scale already tipped in his favor due to his position in your relationship, if you could even call it that. It didn't mean you would allow him to have complete control of your life.
"So, I'll hear from you tomorrow then,” he said, his gaze still on you as the cab pulled up.
"Maybe sooner, but tomorrow for sure," you smiled, almost wishing you ordered dessert just to stay a few minutes longer. Almost. “Thank you again for lunch.”
Your whole body seemed to respond when he brought his mouth close to your ear, enough for his beard to tickle your skin as you shivered. “It was my pleasure,” he whispered, your eyes shutting as you unconsciously moved closer to him.
Before you could press yourself against him, he stepped away to open the door. The abrupt movement left you cold, aching, and wanting more. The small smile on his face as you opened your eyes was all too proud and knowing. It was exactly why you needed to go home and think things through alone.
But not before I give him a taste of his own medicine.
With more confidence than you expected to have, you brushed your fingers enticingly along his cheek before he helped you into the cab. You took pride in watching his composure slip slightly as he clenched his jaw. Having the ability to command his attention was a feat, but now wasn’t the time to take advantage of it.
“Get her home safely,” Andy told the driver, giving your hand the gentlest of squeezes before he paid the man. “Understood?”
“Sure thing,” he said, whistling when he saw the amount of cash in hand.
"Enjoy the rest of your day," Andy said.
"You, too," you replied, looking at him through the window as the door shut.
"Where to?" the cab driver asked.
You reluctantly tore your gaze away from Andy to answer his question. As the cab pulled away, you kept yourself from looking back. You had a feeling Andy still stood there, watching until you were out of sight. It was strange how the distance made it easier to breathe, but you felt out of your own skin.
Maybe because it isn't every day that someone offers to be my sugar daddy.
As if he sensed he was on your mind, he sent you a message.
"Please let me know once you're home."
Written word wasn't always easy to decipher. It could've read as Andy's need for control, to know where you are at all times. But you felt like it leaned closer to wanting to know you're safe. You hoped it was the latter, as it left a warm feeling inside.
"Just made it. Thanks again for lunch." You messaged back once you got back to your apartment minutes later.
“Thank you for letting me know. It was my pleasure.”
“Pleasure.” The same thing he whispered in my ear.
You blocked out the sounds of the bustling streets outside as you flopped down on the couch. You stayed in that spot for a few minutes and stared at the ceiling. Part of you debated exercising or doing something else to distract you from your thoughts, but your heart wouldn't have been in it. Now was the time to reflect on Andy Barber and his proposal.
"Down to business," you whispered before you got up.
When it came to any area in life that required extra attention, you preferred to write by hand instead of typing. It allowed you to process the thoughts and emotions more since it was a more tedious process as opposed to quickly typing. You also didn't have the advantage of backspacing if you made a mistake or didn't like something. These were your words in the moment and they had to be there for a reason.
Weighing out the pros and cons came easy to you. The obvious major pro was not having to worry about your finances for a short time, which means less stress. And less stress meant better sleep, not dreading work, and more taking care of yourself. A domino effect of positives for you.
On the other hand, minus the few interactions and what you found online, you didn't know Andy very well. What did that mean for your safety when you moved into his building? Or when the two of you traveled? If no one knew about your arrangement and something happened, where did that leave you?
I don't think Andy would hurt me, but someone needs to know what's going on.
You dialed Andy's number, wanting confirmation before moving forward with your list.
"Hi, honey."
You weren't sure you'd ever get used to that warm greeting or the mere sound of his voice, but you liked it. "Hi, Andy. I'm sorry to bother you, but I had a quick question for you and I thought it would be better to call instead of text."
"It isn't a bother. Ask away," he urged.
You tapped your pen against the paper. "Since you and I are still in the beginning stage of getting to know each other, I'd feel a bit more comfortable if one of my friends knew about our…" you tried to find the right word as you took a breath.
"Arrangement?" he mused.
"Yes. That's okay, right?" you asked, not sure why you felt nervous to ask. It may have sounded like you didn't trust Andy, but you couldn't be too careful. Surely he understood that.
"I'm glad you asked. It would surprise me if you didn't want someone privy to our arrangement," he assured you. The man was full of surprises. "Is this friend someone you trust? And will they be discreet?"
You almost flinched when Andy brought up discretion. Of course, he didn't need to broadcast that he planned to pay you for your company. You weren't going to tell a ton of people either. The less people knew that you were a first time sugar baby, the better.
"I trust her and I'll make sure she's discreet," you promised.
"As long as you're comfortable, go right ahead," he said, bringing you instantaneous relief. "Did you have any other questions?"
"What dessert would you have selected at lunch today?" you asked curiously.
He chuckled at your switch in topic. "Why don't I answer that question on our first date?"
"Date?" you smiled, butterflies in your stomach before you came back to reality. A date he was paying you for. "When did I say 'yes'?"
"You didn't,” he said. You heard the smile in his voice. “But my instinct says you're leaning in that direction."
I am.
"I think that's all I need for now. Why don't you hold your breath until I call back? You’ll find out if your instinct was right," you teased,
"Don't leave me hanging too long, honey," he said, taking an exaggerated breath for you to hear.
"Bye, Daddy," you smiled, getting right back to your list once you hung up. Your phone went off seconds later.
"Now you're just teasing me, honey."
You bit your lip as you typed. Maybe you were teasing him. Could he blame you? "I call it building anticipation."
"I want you to remember those exact words down the road." Andy sent back.
Despite the tingling between your thighs at the implication, you had to get back to the task at hand. After jotting a couple of other things down, you realized you were slightly stuck on the last part: the physical aspect. While he implied that you didn’t have to sleep with him, attraction was there. You wouldn’t deny that. Sex itself didn’t have to be complicated, but you had to communicate what you were comfortable with and set boundaries.
And what if either of you caught feelings?
You scoffed at that thought. No way would Andy fall for you. Take care of you? Yes. Trust you? Hopefully yes. But actually want you beyond this deal? Why would he? And what if you wanted more than what he had to give? Was adding your emotional well-being to the list worth it?
You had to protect your heart in this game.
I just hope I won’t lose it along the way.
Not wanting to dwell on that, you messaged Estelle.
“Hey. Are you free to talk? Not an emergency, but still important.”
Estelle was one of your oldest friends. Confidant, beautiful, and well off, many assumed she was stuck up or high maintenance. Truthfully, she had a heart of gold and looked out for the people she cared about. You knew if anyone would keep an eye out for you and not judge you for taking this path, she was it.
“You at home? I can stop by.”
And because she never judged you, you never once minded when she came to visit you in this part of the city.
“Come on over.”
You stared at your list as you waited before the letters blurred together, spots dancing in front of your eyes as you felt a slight headache coming on. Talking with Estelle would help ease any nerves you felt. Besides, weren’t you making the best decision for yourself? Not just for the present, but the future?
“Open up! I brought sustenance!” Estelle called through the front door minutes later.
She would find a way to get into the building without me needing to get her.
Your best friend didn’t have a hair out of place as you let her in, tapping her perfectly manicured nail against a bakery bag. She was almost the type of woman you expected for Andy to have beside him. “Got something for each of us. Important talks means important eats,” she said, arching an eyebrow as she looked you over. “You look nice. Who did you get dressed up for? Oh, my god. Did you have a job interview?!”
“Why do you assume I dressed up for someone?” you asked, even though you did. “And sort of?” you added.
“Because you don’t dress up on your days off,” she pointed out, making herself at home in the living room. She never once looked down her nose at your place. If anything, she loved how you made it your own. “I know I've said this before, but I've always liked that color on you. It’s very…” she trailed off as she set the bag on the coffee table next to your list. “Um. What is this?”
Maybe I shouldn’t have titled it “Pros and Cons to having a Sugar Daddy”.
“Yeah, that’s what I want to talk to you about,” you said as you took a seat on the chair.
“Wait. This isn’t a joke? You’re seriously contemplating getting a sugar daddy?” she asked, picking up the list to give it more of a careful read. Her eyes held no judgement. Only concern. “Okay. Talk.”
Over the next few minutes, you told her about meeting Andy and his offer. She was gracious enough not to ask any questions or interrupt, likely letting it sink in. You were probably one of the last people she expected to go down this road. Life was funny that way.
“So, this Andy Barber,” Estelle said once she was up to speed. “If you agree to be his ‘companion’ or whatever, he’ll wipe out your debt and keep your bank account full until this job opens up for his friend? A legitimate job?”
“Pretty much,” you nodded. Hearing it that way sounded too good to be true. “He said he’d make sure I’m comfortable until I get my first paycheck. And Huffman Enterprises is legitimate.”
“So, a legitimate job offer with this being the only string attached,” she said, showing you a photo of Andy from one of the articles she pulled up online. “I mean, the guy’s hot as hell, so he has that going for him until you start to work again. Bet he’d rock your world.”
“I’m sure he would,” you tried to smile, having no doubt about his skills. He didn’t strike you as a selfish lover. Demanding, maybe, but not selfish or a taker.
"Do you like him?” she smirked, not letting you avoid her stare. “No one would blame you if you did.”
“I like what I know about him so far,” you said carefully.
“Mmm," she said, not pushing for more. "Not much written on the 'Con' side of the list."
"That's a good thing, right?"
There weren't many cons overall in your eyes. Your safety and maintaining safe boundaries for sex were the major concerns. You wouldn't budge on those things.
"It is." Estelle dug the treats out of the bag, urging you to take one from her hand. “You know, you could just stay with me. And I don’t mind lending you some money. You could still quit the diner.”
“I couldn’t do that,” you said, picking at the pastry before you set it down. You refused to take advantage of your friendship with Estelle. Besides, what if she gave you money and you couldn’t pay her back? How could you come back from that? “I appreciate it though.”
She sighed and you wondered if you hurt her feelings by turning down her generosity. “I get why you want to do this arrangement, I really do, but are you sure it’s safe?”
“That’s why I’m telling you. If I go anywhere with him, you’ll know the details. You’ll basically be my failsafe,” you explained, which seemed to appease her slightly before you felt tears come to your eyes. You allowed yourself to be vulnerable. “I mean, this isn’t exactly where I thought I’d be at this point in my life. I thought I’d be more self-sufficient or better off, but I’m barely keeping my head above water. I’m tired of feeling like I’m going to drown. At least he can keep me afloat for a short time.”
I just want to breathe without feeling a weight on my chest.
“Hey,” she gently said, reaching over to hug you. Somehow the floodgates didn’t open. “I got your back on this, but he better watch his. If he hurts you in any way, shape, or form, I’ll gut him. I don’t care how powerful he thinks he is.”
A watery laugh escaped. You had no doubt Estelle would emasculate him if he crossed a line. “I know you will,” you said, pulling away. “I also know you’re the last person who would judge me for this and understand that this stays between us.”
“Are you kidding? All the shit I’ve done in my life and you never once judged me, I’d never judge you," she said fiercely. She was a good friend. "And no one else knows?"
"Just you."
A soft smile crossed Estelle's face, likely touched that you trusted her with this. "Your secret is safe with me,” she promised, glancing at your list once more. “Just promise me you thought this through and you’ll be careful. I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“I have,” you told her. You felt better emotionally knowing that Estelle was aware and onboard with the situation. You didn’t feel alone in this. “And I will be careful.”
“Then give it a few minutes and let him know you want to talk,” she winked.
You waited exactly five minutes and typed out a message. Your finger hovered over “send”, asking yourself one last time if this was the right decision. As Andy’s tender smile flashed in your mind, you touched the screen without hesitation.
“I’m ready to discuss our terms.”
It didn’t take long to get a response.
“My office tomorrow. 4pm. I’ll send you the address.”
“Tomorrow it is,” you told Estelle, your stomach light and weightless again. This was really happening.
“Come on. I’m taking you shopping,” she said, pulling you up before you could argue. “If you won’t stay with me or let me help with your bills, at least let me buy you a dress for your meeting. Consider it an early birthday gift.”
“You just want an excuse to go shopping.”
“I don’t need an excuse,” she argued, shoving your purse into your hands. “But I do want you to be a knockout for your meeting. Let him see exactly what he’s agreeing to. And by the end of this, he won’t want to let you go.”
A girl can dream.
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Negotiations are coming! Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Andy Barber Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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juyeonszn · 9 months
Text
NECTAR
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PAIRING kim sunwoo x f!reader
WORD COUNT 7.14k
GENRES smut ﹒ fluff
WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, mature language, umm age gap!! reader is like 10 or so years older than sunwoo (it’s never really specified what her exact age is), reader is also eric’s older sister, there’s a bit of spanish thrown in here lol they’re in mexico for vacation what did u expect, sun eric and hak are professional baseball players, there’s a scene where a waitress is kinda icky to reader bc she’s older, i think mentions of alcohol, sunwoo is down BAD down bad to the point of no return it’s crazy, he’s also a horny impatient little shit, soft dom!sunwoo ig idk, oral (m! & f! receiving), face fucking, handjob ish, a little bit of hair pulling, vaginal fingering, So Much Praise, UNPROTECTED SEX pls be safe!!, edging, delayed orgasm kinda, missionary position, creampie, aftercare :P, the last scene is so cute and disgusting i hate couples
SUMMARY despite being nearly a decade older than him, sunwoo’s always had his eyes on you. so when your younger brother invites you to join them on vacation, you fall right into his trap. you can’t really blame him for finally taking the bait after all these years.
MORE woah hey again 😋 this one isn’t as wild as the hyunjae fic, but it has its moments LOLL if u ever read my warnings about this when it was on my wip list, then u know that this was actually an old fic back from when i wrote for anime 😭 i changed a lot tbh but a good chunk of the original plot is still there 👍 i got inspo for the last scene from a tumblr quote my irl posted on instagram isn’t that crazy anyway….. enjoy!!
PLAYLIST nectar — wayv, tangerine love (favorite) — nct dream, delicious — the boyz, passion fruit — the boyz, horizon — jaehyun, moonlight sunrise — twice
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When you agreed to go with your younger brother on a vacation in Mexico for a week with his friends, you weren’t sure what you were expecting.
You knew your brother’s friends well. They'd gone to high school together and after partly going their separate ways following graduation, decided to go on yearly trips to make up for any lost time. This year, the destinations were the gorgeous beaches of Mexico. Cozumel, Cancun, you name it. You were hitting all the spots.
Those were the luxuries of being the older sister of a professional baseball player.
From the start of your getaway, every single one of your movements felt like they were being watched. Your skin burned with the heat of mocha brown eyes staring at you. Half of you wanted to point it out to Eric, but figured you’d save yourself from the drama. Besides, you were a big girl and two could play at that game.
The first instance took place before you even left for the trip.
You lived about an hour away from Eric and since you were all taking the same flight, you thought it would be more convenient to just ride to the airport together. And because he was closer to the airport, he offered for you to stay at his and Sunwoo’s apartment. Haknyeon would be meeting you there due to prior engagements with his own team.
When you arrived at your brother’s place, you immediately regretted it. You hadn’t called before going over and Eric happened to be out, leaving you alone with Sunwoo. There was nothing wrong with him, you just hadn’t seen him in a couple years and you were afraid of it being awkward.
The younger male helped you bring your things inside, huffing when he dropped your suitcases in the guest bedroom. He wipes away imaginary sweat from his forehead, blowing out a raspberry as he turns to face you.
“Did you pack bricks in there? Why the fuck was that so heavy?”
You laugh. Sunwoo had always been quite the clown as long as you’d known him. “I’m a girl, what did you expect? We never pack lightly.”
“You can say that again,” he snorts, twisting his torso to pop his back. “Uh, are you hungry? We have some leftover takeout in the fridge ‘cause you know damn well neither of us know how to cook.”
Before you can respond, you’re distracted by the sight of him raising his arms to stretch, his t-shirt riding up to show a sliver of his abdomen. From the way his slender fingers lock above his head to the taut skin peeking behind the fabric, you’re entranced. Your brain finally comprehends the fact that Kim Sunwoo was no longer a teenage boy, but rather a grown man.
He clears his throat, breaking your trance and forcing you to stop staring. Your cheeks flush slightly as you attempt to hide the embarrassment flooding your features. His lips are pulled into a smug grin, making you aware that he caught you. He doesn’t say anything though, keeping the cocky smirk as he leaves the room. (Presumably to go to the kitchen.)
With hefty feet, you drag yourself to follow. He’s already warming up the leftovers for you as you take a seat at the island barstool, resting your chin on your palm and your elbows on the counter. Your moment from a few minutes ago is long forgotten as you become transfixed by him on the other side of the island.
It’s weird for you to think about how much Eric has matured, coming from an older sister’s point of view. But having that same realization for Sunwoo is a completely different can of worms. You watch as he extracts the container out of the microwave and opens a drawer beside him to grab a pair of chopsticks simultaneously, all without skipping a beat.
He spins on his heels to place the food in front of you, pausing when he notices that you’re staring at him again. The glint in your eyes was more wholesome than before and it made his heart stutter in his chest. He slides the container across the surface of the island, leaning closer to you.
It was almost like your gaze trapped him in a spell, taking over his actions and drawing him towards you like a magnet. He’s never wanted you as much as he did right now, seeing you in his home, sitting on the stool in his kitchen. Your eyes widen when you’ve snapped back to reality.
Before he can do anything, the sound of the front door unlocking stops him and he’s stepping away to tidy up his mess as if nothing happened. Eric comes in to greet you happily and life continues on just as it had prior to Sunwoo leaning into your personal space. He acts like it never occurred, laughing along at a stupid joke your brother made.
And for some reason, you thought he would keep pretending nothing happened. What a rude awakening you were in for.
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It’s a couple days into your trip and you were sitting on a lounge chair poolside, while Eric and Haknyeon had gone to get drinks. Sunwoo placed himself in the seat next to you, his sculpted chest and torso gleaming in all their tanned glory.
He knew it was wrong of him to pine after his best friend’s sister, but how could he not? There was something about your maturity that drove him crazy. But even if you ignored that, anyone who could see would find you stunningly gorgeous. The sight of you scantily clad in a bikini was enough to make the strongest men weak.
Perhaps it was also the thrill that you were nearly a decade older than him.
At this point, you weren’t sure if the warmth engulfing your body was from the sun or the brunette’s intense gaze, but you want to push your luck, the incident at the apartment still fresh on your mind.
“Sunwoo? Do you mind putting some sunscreen on my back for me?” You ask innocently, grasping the base of the tube firmly. His tongue darts out and swipes across his lips.
She knows what she’s doing, he thinks to himself.
“Yeah, s’no problem,” he responds cooly, standing from his chair to sit behind you on yours.
You’re borderline on his lap, so close that you can feel his breath on your neck. Just to fuck with him some more, you reach behind yourself to untie your swim suit top.
You’ve been on this playing field long enough to know when a man wants you, but you’ve never been an easy target. It was like a game of cat and mouse for you. Right when they think they’ve got you, you always seem to be three steps ahead.
This little chase that you were leading Sunwoo on wasn’t any different.
His fingers dance dangerously low on your back, working the lotion into your skin wonderfully. As you’ve gotten older, your body has undoubtedly changed. The fat of your thighs was far more than it was when you were in your early twenties/late teens. Your stomach was lined with stretch marks, no two the same. But even so, you remained ever confident. You wouldn’t put up with anyone who wouldn’t agree that your so-called ‘imperfections’ were beautiful.
After a few minutes, once the trap had been set, you tied your bathing suit back. The ghost of his skilled fingers lingered as you stood from the lounge chair, spotting your brother and Haknyeon walking back.
The brunette had never been denied before. He got what he wanted without fail, and he’d be damned if this was the one outlier. He’d just have to prove to you that even though he was younger, he was more of a man than any you’d ever been with. And that was a promise.
Later that evening, the four of you had gone to your respective rooms to shower and get ready for dinner. Luckily, Eric had used his brain for something good and reserved separate hotel rooms for each of you. ‘Just in case,’ he’d said.
You did the finishing touches of your makeup and checked your phone, finding a text from your brother.
[8:07] eric: we’re all in the lobby
[8:07] eric: just waiting on u
[8:07] eric: but take ur time dear sister pls don’t rush on our account
[8:08] eric: it’s not like we have an uber waiting for us or anything
[8:08] eric: note the sarcasm btw
You roll your eyes as you grab your purse, tossing the device inside. Who was he to talk about how long it took you to get ready? You were in your thirties and you were not about to be bossed around by your little brother. Back when he was still in high school, you were the one telling him to speed up his morning process.
Your dad had gotten a job halfway across the country right before his second year and it crushed him. You remember how upset he was when they broke the news, the thought of packing up his entire life and leaving all of his friends stung. So instead, you got a well paying job and bought a two bedroom apartment for the both of you, that way he could stay and finish out the rest of high school. You made some sacrifices, sure, but you were practically done experimenting in your life. You were in your late twenties by this point, what more was there to do? You’d already graduated from university so helping out your brother was doing everyone a favor.
After living together for nearly three years, you and Eric had grown a lot closer. With such an age difference, it’d been difficult to relate to one another and bond over certain things. When he’d discovered a new phase to go through, you had moved past it years prior. You were always just out of reach from each other until then. It was like the universe itself was trying to bring you together.
Even now, both of you much older, he still calls and asks to come over to your place so he can hang out. You meant just as much to him as he did to you.
The elevator dings, opening so you can stroll towards the group of young men waiting for you. Right when they caught sight of you, you started making your way to the Uber parked under the carport outside of the hotel.
The drive to the restaurant was silent, but you could feel an intense gaze on your form. Purposefully, you’d worn your most revealing outfit. A nice tight dress to hug your matured body and some skinny heels to elongate your legs. You were thankful that your brother wasn’t the type to be overly protective, well aware that his older sister could carry her own by now. However, you think even Haknyeon had started to pick up on your actions and the unspoken tension between you and Sunwoo.
You arrived at your location for the evening, stepping out of the car gracefully. You received multiple stares from other patrons and even a few employees. You weren’t sure if it was because you were just that drop dead gorgeous, or if it was another reason entirely. Maybe they were wondering what three men who looked as young as they did, were doing with an older woman such as yourself.
You don’t have to dwell on it for too long, a host showing the four of you to a booth almost immediately. Shout out to Eric and Sunwoo for having connections.
The seating arrangement ends up with you and Sunwoo on one side, Haknyeon and Eric on the other. You had a feeling this was not a good idea. They’d dropped you right where he wanted.
When the waitress comes to take your drink order, you feel the toasty warmth of a hand on your thigh, nearly tripping you up as you point out a margarita on the rocks from the menu. After she jots everything down, she taps her pen against the tablet. She then gestures between your party.
“Are any of you dating?” she asks curiously, eyeing you with a quirk to her brow. To anyone else, it’s a normal question. Eric, Haknyeon, and Sunwoo were indeed good looking guys. (One of them was your brother, of course he was attractive— where do you think he got it from?) But you could see right through her fake act. She had to have recognized the three baseball players.
“Haha, no actually. She’s my sister.” Eric chuckles, pointing at you with his thumb. She narrows her eyes momentarily before covering it up with a sickeningly sweet smile.
“Ah, tú hermana.” She tries to laugh off, but when the boys furrow their eyebrows, she realizes it fell upon deaf ears. You fight the urge to burst into laughter at how stupid they were.
“She said ‘your sister’ in Spanish. Idiots, I swear.” You explain to the still confused table. They let out a chorus of ‘ohhhh’s in response. Learning Spanish was something you’re glad you did, seeing as you sometimes needed to translate during your trip. You would definitely hold it over them when you got back.
The waitress seems to notice how close you and Sunwoo are sitting, but doesn’t call you out on it. While the other two are oblivious to her fixation, the brunette catches on quickly, squeezing the inside of your thigh as she continues her silly little version of twenty questions.
“Cuantos años tienes?” She asks you personally, realizing that you can understand her. What ever happened to girls supporting girls?
“How old are you?”
“En mis treinta.” You answer without hesitation, not exactly telling her for the sake of your own satisfaction. The press of Sunwoo’s fingers trails upward, causing you to shift uncomfortably.
“In my thirties.”
You can sense that she wants to say something snarky to you, her opposition to your age clear as glass, but she chooses not to. Whether that’s because she wants to seem like a good person in front of the boys or otherwise, you couldn’t care less. As long as you hadn’t been disrespected. And you knew if you were, Eric and the guys would jump to defend you with all their beings.
After what feels like a millennium, she finally leaves you alone, even going to the extent of switching tables with another waitress. Was that even allowed? You’re not entirely sure, but at least you didn’t have to deal with someone rude.
The majority of the dinner goes smoothly, the drinks and the food tasting unlike anything you’d ever had. Haknyeon couldn’t stop raving about the different flavors he was experiencing. At some point you think he told the waitress to send his thanks to the chef, in true Haknyeon fashion. That was the majority. The rest of the dinner was spent in absolute agony.
A certain baseball player couldn’t keep his hands to himself, eating with one and teasing you with the other. How no one paid any attention to what was happening right in front of them was beyond you. You’d even accidentally whimpered, covering it up by pretending the food was just that good.
The check couldn’t come fast enough, your body betraying you and anticipating getting back to the hotel. Your brother had different plans, claiming that the night was still young and he wanted to have drinks somewhere else. Your disappointment must’ve been obvious, because Sunwoo comes to your rescue.
“Eric, I think your sister’s ready to hit the hay.” He pats the brunette’s shoulder, one hand on his hip.
“Oh we can head back then—“ You interrupt him.
“No no, it’s fine, Eric, I'll be okay on my own. You guys have fun, don’t let me stop you.” You dismiss him. You could get rid of your problem yourself this way. No one to bother—
“I’ll go with you. Someone’s gotta make sure you get to your room safely, N/N. Besides, I'm beat. The sun’s starting to catch up to me.” Sunwoo grins, ruffling your hair. You glare at him, your irritation coming to light for the first time since you’d landed in the country. You’d done so well at acting like he wasn’t affecting you.
“Alright sick! Thanks, Sunwoo! Hak and I will see you tomorrow I guess,” Eric says. He turns to you, hugging your side. “I'll check to see if you’re still awake later.”
And that was that. You and your brother went your separate ways, ordering two Ubers for the pairs you were in.
It took all of about seconds following the ding of the elevator reaching your floor, for Sunwoo’s lips to meet yours. You jump, wrapping your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist, his large palms supporting you from your ass. It was so attractive that he could hold you like this— showing off the muscles he’s built from all his years of playing baseball, a far cry from that scrawny kid you knew when he was younger
He fumbles with his keycard, waving it frantically in front of the sensor. There’s a flash of green and he pushes the door open wide enough to fit the two of you through its threshold. Never once do your mouths disconnect, kissing each other so feverishly it raises the temperature of the room. He kicks the door closed behind him with his foot, pressing you up against the floor to ceiling mirror-wall beside the bathroom. The heat radiating off of your body fogs up the outline of your figure.
Sunwoo can’t seem to get enough of you, groping and grabbing any part of you that he can. You have to admit, you’ve never felt so needed— so wanted— in your life. In the messiness of teeth clashing and tongues tangling, your desperation begins to run rampant. You whine as he tugs at your bottom lip.
“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this, N/N,” his voice is husky and breathy, his soft pants filling your ears. He pecks your bare shoulder affectionately, cupping your right breast in his hand. “How long I’ve been waiting for you to take me seriously… to let me treat you like a real man should.”
His knee nudges itself between your legs, creating some much appreciated friction momentarily, his erection prominent against your thigh.
“I know that you know what you're doing when you dress like this. All slutty and revealing, showing yourself off to everyone,” his mouth hovers over the skin of your neck, goosebumps littering the surface. “But really, you do it for me, huh? You do it on purpose ‘cause you know how crazy it makes me. You know exactly what I’ve been wanting since we got here. That’s my smart girl.”
You can’t help the small moan that erupts from the back of your throat, his words and the wet feeling of his tongue circling the area he had just been sucking on going straight to the excitement pooling in your belly. He smiles mischievously, thumb running over your clothed nipple.
You’d been so lost in pleasure that you hadn’t even realized he’d moved you to the bed, your back on the fluffy white comforter and your thighs spread apart for him. He takes a hold of the back of his collar and removes his shirt in one swift motion, pushing your dress upward afterwards to assist you in discarding it.
His eyes rake your now half-naked body, the fullness of your tits nearly spilling out from the lacy nude strapless bra you were wearing. He drags a finger along your lace covered slit, his lips curling when he watches you shudder underneath his touch.
“Sunwoo, please…”
You don’t even know what you’re begging for, just that you need it. And you need it badly.
“Please, what?” He tsks, now massaging your inner thighs, working you up just like he wants. You pout, hoping to convey the message without pleading. Embarrassment floods your body when you realize he’s not gonna make it easy for you. “Use your words, sweetheart.”
You shut your eyes, hoping to will away the sheer mortification flushing your entire being. “P-please touch me.”
This fuels his ego even further. As if it could get any bigger.
“Open your pretty eyes, baby,” he coos, leaning forward to kiss you. When you obey his request, he hooks his long fingers into the waistband of your panties. “There we go. See, good girls get what they ask for.”
He slides them off, parting your legs immediately. The cool air makes you flinch. The one article of clothing that kept you unexposed was gone now, along with the confident woman from earlier in the day.
He repeats his actions from minutes ago, his pointer finger collecting your slick as it slides through your folds with ease. The squelching sound it makes is horrifying, your shame settling back into place. He kisses the plane of your stomach gently, murmuring into the skin.
“Do you hear that, sweetheart? Do you hear how excited you are for me? There’s no point in trying to hide it anymore.”
Your eyes widen at his words, opening your mouth to say something in retaliation but he takes this opportunity to bury two fingers inside of you. A gasp leaves your throat consequently, your back arching on instinct. It had been a while since a man had set aside time for foreplay. He truly was making good on his word, treating you like a real man should.
He lowers himself, positioning his face in front of your pussy and darts his tongue across his lips before flattening it against your clit. The sensation makes you shiver, though that reaction is nothing compared to what happens next. He curls his fingers inside of you, brushing that certain spongy spot that drives you insane, then begins alternating between kitten licking and sucking on the engorged skin of your clit.
You cry out, hands flying down to tug at his hair and dig your nails into his scalp. He doesn’t appear to mind at all, more like he enjoys it, reveling in the way you’re losing yourself to him slowly but surely. It's a dream come true for him. He's finally getting the opportunity to completely ruin you after waiting for-what-felt-like-ever. Horny, teenage Sunwoo would be jumping for joy over this.
He remembers the first time he met you. Eric had invited him, Haknyeon, and other members of the team over to your shared apartment for a team bonding during their second year. The only thought in his mind upon seeing you was ‘damn, I love older women.’ You were just so sure of yourself, he couldn’t help the tightness in his pants and the thumping in his chest.
And those feelings never seemed to fade.
In fact, it appeared that they grew with time. He’d dated other girls since then, especially because he was so popular in high school and in university. Yet for some reason he could never quite pinpoint, things never worked out. They just didn’t feel like the one for him, so he’d end the relationship before anyone got hurt more than they had to. Then the yearly trip would happen and Eric would update him on your life and his crush on you would come rushing back to him.
Even when you’d gotten engaged a few years ago, nothing could stop the way his heart beat only for you and you alone. He didn’t really like the dude all that much, but expressed support for you anyway because he wanted you to be happy. After Eric told him that he broke off the engagement to pursue someone else, Sunwoo just about lost it. He wanted to hunt the guy down himself. He couldn’t fathom how one could just throw away the once in a lifetime opportunity of calling you his. You deserved the world and so much more.
Everything resurfaces and it’s evident in the way his fingers dive even deeper inside of you, his appendage lapping mercilessly at your aching clit. You don’t question him even if you wanted to, your entire body feeling like it’s on cloud 9. He takes a break from licking and sucks at the sweet spot harshly, ripping out a prolonged moan from your lips.
Your release is in your field of vision now, so close that you can nearly taste it. You attempt to buck your hips up into his mouth to chase what you’re yearning for. He senses exactly what’s happening, so he slows his assault, much to your aggravation. You can’t even help the pleas that tumble from the back of your throat.
“No no no no, please,” you sit up, your hands still intertwined with his messy brown locks. “Sun, please… why’d you stop?”
His smile is almost conniving, you swear you can see his canines peeking through. He hovers above you, caging you between his torso and the bed. “You've been having all the fun, so now I think it’s time I have some, too.”
You’re about to ask what he means, when he steps back to undo his belt and zipper, pushing down his pants in record speed. Even through the black material of his (expensive looking) briefs, you can tell he’s well endowed. You rub your legs together, still sensitive from being deprived of your orgasm, and your hunger for all of him increases immensely.
“Eager, are we?” He chuckles, switching places with you. He sits at the edge of the bed, his legs open enough for you to fit between them. You bite your bottom lip, gripping each of his muscular thighs. It wouldn’t be such a bad thing to get crushed by them. It sure would be a hell of a way to die.
He leans back onto his palms, bunching up the sheets in his fists. You move forward to press your mouths in a searing kiss, cupping his clothed erection in your hand. He groans as his teeth nearly gnash with yours. You seize the chance to discard his underwear and massage his cock. The warmth and length of it makes your mouth water, almost whimpering at how flushed it is. You can tell that he’s painfully hard in the way he’s extremely responsive to all of your touches. You swipe your thumb over his slit, collecting the pre cum that’s formed there.
After deciding that enough is enough, he parts from you in favor of ordering you to get on your knees. You maintain eye contact as you wrap your lips around him, the nerves you’d been feeling all night finally washing off. Your tongue swirls around the tip a few times before it licks a broad line from the base back up along the underside. You take him down your throat this time, massaging his balls as you do so. Your cheeks hollow out as you bob your head, your hands jerking what you can’t fit.
An erratic knock at the door startles both of you and you’re about to remove yourself from him, but he keeps you there with a large hand, urging you to continue. You listen reluctantly, assuming the person would just go away if you ignored them.
However, the knock comes again moments later. Sunwoo looks down at you. His eyes tell you all you need to know, so you don’t stop.
“Sunwoo! Hey, have you seen my sister? She’s not in her room.”
You practically choke on him at the sound of your brother’s voice, but he still doesn’t let you pause. His attention doesn’t leave you as he replies.
“Uh yeah, she’s borrowing my shower. Hers wasn’t working.” He lies. His eyes bore into yours intensely, the knowledge that he had Eric’s hot older sister right here in front of him on her knees shrouding his mind.
The brunette outside seems to find that answer sufficient enough and doesn’t interrogate further. “Okay, cool. Just tell her to text me when she gets back to her room.”
“You got it.”
His footsteps can be heard padding against the carpet of the hallway as he walks away.
Your nose brushes against the hair at the base of his cock before he cups your cheeks and lifts your mouth off of him. You take in a deep breath, keeping your hands on his dick firmly. As you regain your breathing, you leave kisses all over, starting at the tip and ending down the shaft. You feel him shudder beneath you, a satisfaction coming from knowing that you’re the one who has him so weak.
You had Kim Sunwoo wrapped around your pretty little finger.
Unbeknownst to you, that’d always been the case. Since day one. But it didn’t matter at the moment. All that either of you cared about right now was wrecking each other.
He slides his cock down your throat again, loving the sight of you getting face fucked by him. You moan around him, the vibrations causing him to grasp at your hair tightly, though you don’t mind the sting either.
“You look so gorgeous like this, sweetheart. Your lips look so pretty wrapped around me. Can’t wait until I’m inside you,” he hisses when your tongue runs over his slit. “You want me to fuck you into the mattress? Until you can’t even remember your own name?”
You release him from your lips once more, nodding frantically. It’s almost pathetic how needy you are for him, your brother’s best friend, someone nearly ten years younger than yourself. “Yes, please, Sunwoo. I want you so bad. I want you to fuck me so hard, I can’t walk properly.”
His smirk from your pleads is ungodly. He swipes his thumb across your bottom lip, pinching it between his fingers before he pulls you up to kiss you roughly. Even though he has this big dominant act up on display, you know he wants you just as much. And he conveys it in the desperate way he moves his mouth against yours with such fervor.
After a few minutes, both of you get sick of wasting time and he flips you around so you’re on your back. He nips at your neck, whispering dirtily as he pumps himself in his hands.
“The only thing I want on your mind is me, you got that?” He lines his dick up with your hole, nibbling on your earlobe while he does so. “The name Kim Sunwoo is gonna be engraved in your fucking brain after tonight.”
Without any semblance of a warning, he pushes himself in, giving you no time for adjustment. His cock fills you up nicely, better than you’ve ever been before, and the feeling alone rips a particularly loud moan out of you. “Oh my god, Sun. Y-you're so big and your cock f-feels so g-good. So s-so good.”
“You’re so tight, your pussy is squeezing me. You gonna cream on my dick?”
He gives you another one of those sly grins, where it’s almost like he’s baring his canines to you, and you swear you’ve never wanted to be ruined as much as you do now.
His pace is unrelenting, nothing but sheer power going into every thrust of his hips. His cock hits places deep inside that you didn’t know existed. It amazes you how much stamina he has and it doesn’t appear like he’s letting up any time soon.
“Sunwoo, just like that— f-fuck yes— right there,”
“Look at you, Y/N, so fucking messy and all because of me.”
He hooks one of your knees on his shoulder, plunging even further into your pussy. The mewl you release is voluminous, enough to wake up anyone in the rooms surrounding his. One of his hands holds your leg in place while the other travels south, gripping your side and using his thumb to vigorously circle your clit.
The added stimulation is just what you need to nudge you closer to your tipping point, what you were deprived of earlier. He, of course, notices that and stops his attack with his finger. You whine in protest, not wanting to deal with his teasing again right now.
You open your mouth to express your distaste at the same moment he rolls his hips experimentally. So instead of complaining about his edging, you let out a choked groan.
“Sunwoo, please, let me cum. Please, I'm begging. I need to.” You hate that you’re in this position, but you can’t hold out much longer. Fatigue is catching up to you and if you don’t cum soon, you might pass out.
“You wanna cum, baby? You want me to let you cum?” He all but growls in your ear. You moan wantonly in response, quickly becoming a babbling mess. “I think you can wait a bit longer. Take it like a big girl, yeah?”
Your other leg wraps around his waist, allowing his already buried cock to kiss at your cervix. The new angle is unhinged, short circuiting your brain. Discarding any thought behind your actions, moving on autopilot, you pull him down to press your mouths together.
The combination of passion and pure lust drives both of you wild, fueling your desires. His lips part from yours and he moans breathily as you clench down on him, the exhale fanning over the lower part of your face. The sound is unlike anything you’ve heard before and you’d do just about anything to hear it again. The brunette was completely unaware of the effects he had on you, something as simple as a noise kicking you into high gear.
But it seems even he’s reaching his limits, not able to hold himself back anymore. In an attempt to finish you both off quickly, he brutalizes each piston of his pelvis. Your nails sink into his shoulders.
“F-fuck— S-Sunwoo I’m gonna— I’m gonna cum— so fucking—“
His thumb finds its way back to your clit and resumes its previous attack, the other circling around a peaked nipple, cutting you off. You arch into him, trying to bring the two of you impossibly closer. His cock rams in and out of you almost inhumanely at the rate he was going. With one particularly harsh thrust, he commands,
“Cum for me, sweetheart.”
The words send you overboard and you release around him, simultaneously gripping him like a vice and moaning so pornographically, you kind of feel bad for everyone else staying on this floor. Your whole body spasms with your orgasm, hushed moans falling from your swollen lips. Seconds later the twitch of his dick alerts you as he follows, filling you up with the warmth of his own cum. Had he not still been inside you, you were certain it’d flow right out, something akin to Niagara Falls. But you’re both too busy trying to catch your breaths to really pay attention to any of that extra stuff.
The ache was settling in your bones instantaneously, and you half-regretted encouraging him to ‘fuck you so hard you couldn’t walk properly’.
After what feels like an eternity, he slowly pulls out his softening cock, your pussy clenching at nothing and feeling empty as he presses a soft peck on the tip of your nose, his dominant personality dissipating along with it.
The moment feels strangely domestic, his coos of praise and the worry that he was too rough with you not flying over your head. Things like ‘you did so well, sweetheart’, ‘I’m so proud of you, baby’, and ‘your pussy was made for my cock’ floated around the air. He caressed your belly with one hand and your hair with the other before pulling himself away from you fully.
“Let me go get you a towel,” he smiles warmly, disappearing into the bathroom he told your brother you were borrowing. When he comes back, he has a fresh pair of briefs on and a damp washcloth on his forearm. “You know, I‘ve had the biggest crush on you since high school. The moment Eric introduced us, I practically fell in love.”
He carefully cleans up your cum covered thighs, weary of how sensitive you are. It dawns on him that you’re fighting back your sleep, but he also realizes that you can’t stay in his room, running the risk of being compromised and Eric finding out. He helps you into a sitting position and leads you to the bath.
He washes your hair and body for you, increasing the overwhelming amount of domesticity that you already started to feel. Even with his admission, you didn’t want to assume that this was something he really wanted. You’d made that mistake before, with your asshole of an ex fiancé, and you couldn’t stomach the thought of that happening with him. He was a young, hot professional baseball player. Why would he want to be tied down to you?
With a towel wrapped tightly around your body and your clothes draped over a shoulder, he aids you in your sneaky trip to your own hotel room. You fumble a bit with the key card, nervous under his gaze for some reason. When you finally get it open, you hurriedly enter, desperate to get away from him to avoid small talk. You were a grown ass woman and here you were, acting like a petulant child.
He reaches for your wrist and stops you prior to getting too far past the door frame. “Hey, hey, what’s the matter? Why won't you look at me? Did— did I do something wrong?”
“N-no! You didn’t. I just— I don't wanna misinterpret the situation...” You betray yourself and look him in the eyes, nearly melting at the soft chocolate color staring right back. He leans forward to kiss you on the lips. It isn’t rushed or forceful like any of the others from earlier in the night. It’s more like the loving one he placed on your nose. It conveys exactly what he wants to say, but can’t put into words, and rids of your doubts all at once. You instinctively shut your eyes, a smile working its way across your face.
“I’ll see you in the morning, sweetheart. Goodnight,” is what he leaves you with, scampering off to his room.
You bring your fingers up to your lips, the stupid grin not disappearing. He wasn’t kidding when he said the name Kim Sunwoo would be engraved in your brain tonight.
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The next day, the four of you visit one of the beaches. You chuckle to yourself as you observe Eric and Haknyeon attempting to skimboard, but failing miserably. Your brother flies forward when his board skids to a stop and he stumbles a bit before regaining his bearings. The older laughs at him, hunching over and clutching his stomach as he does so.
Your eyes stay on them for a bit, but your head turns at the sound of footsteps approaching you and the beach towel you were sitting on. You finally glance over when a grunt fills your ears over the crashing waves. Sunwoo leans back onto his palms, sunglasses perched on top of his head. The goods you wanted were set between you, a bag nearly full to the brim with mandarin oranges.
On your way to the beach, you passed a vendor on the street selling different fruits. Among said fruits were the mandarins that caught your attention. You pouted when you realized you left your purse at the hotel, only having your I.D. on you. Being absolutely smitten with you and having no self control, Sunwoo made a promise to himself to come back when you were least expecting to buy you as many as he physically could. (Gift giving was one of his love languages.)
He smiles as your eyes light up like a Christmas tree in August, instinctively reaching for one of the oranges. You bring it up to your nose to smell the faint citrusy scent of the rind, humming contentedly afterwards. With the summer breeze blowing through your hair, the humidity painting your cheeks rosy and the sun behind you giving you a halo-like glow, you look like a scene ripped straight from a movie. Sunwoo feels like the most fortunate guy in the world knowing that he’s the only person who gets to see you like this, committing the visual to memory so he can look back on it whenever he pleases.
He decides that he could die right here right now, and he’d be satisfied with his life. He can already see it, his headstone; Rest in Peace Kim Sunwoo, 2000-2023.
You slowly start to peel the mandarin, each corner of your lips curled upwards. You pop a piece into your mouth, closing your eyes and savoring the taste of its nectar. Without pausing to think about it, you scoot closer to Sunwoo, feeding him some of the orange. A small giggle escapes the back of your throat when he smiles again, this time at how much more comfortable you are with him. (And also how yummy the mandarin is.)
“It almost tastes as sweet as you.”
He meant for it to be an innocent insinuation, but completely forgot about the fact that it could be misconceived as an innuendo. You slap his shoulder with a gasp because that’s exactly how you took it, and he raises his hands in surrender.
“Woah, I was trying to be cute. You’re the one with the dirty mind.”
You roll your eyes, shoving a few more pieces of mandarin into his mouth to shut him up. “Kim Sunwoo, you’re lucky I like you.”
His cheeks are puffed up with the fruit and he tries to smile at you, his pouty lips making him look a little silly. You press a quick kiss to them, forgetting that you were very much in public. He turns to you with eyes like a deer caught in headlights.
“What if Eric sees?” He swallows thickly.
You shake your head. “Let him. I’m happy. That’s all he really cares about.”
It befuddles you that just a week ago, you never would’ve thought this could happen. A week ago, Sunwoo was still that high school boy who stuttered whenever he spoke to you and came over to yours and Eric’s apartment every day after school. A week ago, you were still apprehensive about putting yourself out there, out of fear that you’d just get hurt again. But somehow, Sunwoo managed to change your entire perspective. And sitting here on this beach towel, feeding him mandarins and giggling at his jokes solidifies that for you.
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© juyeonszn. do not steal, claim, or repost.
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mrsnegan · 2 months
Note
Hi, my request: age gap negan smut
Pretty please, I’m taking anything 🙏
I’m obsessed with your work
[This praise makes me blush, thank you so much for reading my fics! 🥰 And I'm so sorry it took so long to write a little something for your request. It's just a drabble, but I hope you like it!]
Pairing: Negan x f!Reader
Warnings: smut, (unspecified) age gap, fingering, (semi) public, dirty talk, mentions of exhibitionism, a bit of softdom!Negan, some body fluids
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He peppers your skin with hot kisses, right there, where your neck connects with your collarbone. A rich moan spills from your lips, your fingers mindlessly caressing the hair at the nape of his neck.
You don't even remember how it started, why the two of you are tangled right now, him pressing you against his body as well as against the cold wall of your house. Everyone in Alexandria seems to despise him because of what he has done years prior. Of course you have heard about it, people love to gossip, even in a lovely little town such as Alexandria.
You don't mind, though. His aura, that self-assured smile, the cocky attitude, his experience, it all makes him even more interesting in your eyes. He may have done some fucked up things you absolutely condone, but you live in a fucked up world and people do a lot of fucked up things to survive or keep each other safe.
Negan rips you out of your thoughts when his teeth playfully bite at your skin.
"Stay with me, I'm just starting," he whispers into your neck, his eyes flashing upwards to scan your face. "Wouldn't want you to miss a thing."
His words send a shiver through your body, heat pooling between your legs. You don't know why the age difference makes your little banter even more arousing, but it does. The mere prospect of a man like him between your thighs sets a fire to your core.
One of his hands travels south, groping your breasts through the fabric of your shirt, lovingly teasing your nipples hardening under all the material.
"So responsive," he teases. His hand wanders downwards, gripping the hem of the skirt you're wearing.
For just a heartbeat you contemplate to grip his hand and yank him away from where you want him the most and into the safeness of your home. Though the delicious feeling of his touches, the risk of potentially getting caught even if you're hidden away in the shadows, nobody to be heard or seen nearby, it all drives you insane. So much so you urge him on to touch you by opening your legs further.
"Shit baby, you're needy, aren't you?"
Nodding your head, you pull him in for another messy kiss. "Please Negan," you whimper.
He whistles lowly when his hand moves upwards on your thigh, noticing what special gift you have prepared for him when his fingers don't meet fabric. He breaks the kiss to look into your eyes, pure desire being reflected right back at him.
"No panties, baby? Fucking hell, someone's eager."
"Only for you," you confess, biting your lip playfully.
You watch Negan with shaking breaths when you feel his fingers connecting with your bare pussy.
"Fuck me, you're so damn wet," he marvels, two of his fingers stroking you with featherlight touches, spreading your wetness from your opening towards your clit and back down again.
Shivers run down your spine, cheeks flushed with how easy it is for Negan to turn you on, to get you this wet with only so much effort.
"Need you," you whisper, head dizzy, knees weak.
"Don't worry, I've got you." He smiles at you mischieviously while sinking first one, then two of his fingers into your welcoming heat.
There's no way for you to swallow the moan spilling from your lips, hands flying to Negan's shoulders to anchor yourself.
"Fucking shit, such a tight little pussy", he marvels while his thumb draws lazy circles on your clit, fingers moving slowly. "But you gotta keep quiet, baby, or do you want to give 'em a show?" With his last words, he fucks into you a bit faster, curling his fingers to find the sweet spot which makes you see stars.
"Fuck, you'd like that, wouldn't you? Me fucking you in front of all those uptight asshats, making you come over and over again? Can feel you squeeze my fingers, dirty little girl," he rambles, only inches away from your lips.
Heat licks at your skin, blood boiling hot from how good Negan makes you feel with only his fingers and this foul mouth of his.
"More, please," you choke out between whimpers.
Negan obliges with a sinister grin, withdrawing his fingers to add a third one, setting a fast pace with the first stroke.
"Oh my God," you moan high-pitched, feeling his fingers bump into your g-stop over and over again, the heel of his hand deliciously connecting with your clit.
"Shh, sweet girl," he whispers, "gotta keep quiet." His hand, not occupied with fucking you senseless, finds a home on your mouth, silencing your moans into little whimpers.
"That's better, isn't it?"
You're unable to answer him, hands flying to his forearm, clawing at his muscles because of the immense pleasure. You feel full, so full of him and those are just his fingers.
Legs beginning to shake from the upcoming orgasm he's going to fuck out of you, against the wall of your house, at a back alley hidden only by the shadows of the night, you feel yourself spiraling. You moan into Negan's palm, not even able to stop yourself from drooling all over his hand with how good and stupid he fingers you.
"Look at that. You gonna come like this, stuffed full of my fingers," he whispers into your ear, tenderly biting into your earlope while his hand pumps away between your legs.
"Go on, baby, come all over my hand, c'mon."
His words drive you over the edge with full force. The white-hot pleasure crashes over you, body shaking in his grasp, your screams of pleasure silenced by his hand which is still firmly pressed against your mouth.
"There you go, my sweet girl, fuck, look at you, making a mess," he praises, talking you through it.
When the last tremours of your orgasm travel through your body, he lowers his palm from your mouth and withdrawing his fingers from your core.
Drawing in harsh breaths, you register that both his hands are drenched from you, one from your salvia, the other from your orgasm.
"Shit, my girl's a wet one."
His girl. Your heart hammers in your chest, not only from your earth-shattering orgasm. You wipe your mouth, searching Negan's lips for a sensual kiss.
"Shut up, Negan." You slap his arm playfully, a breathless laugh escaping you. Taking his hand, you take some wobbly steps to the porch of your house. "Come inside."
"Oh baby, if you insist," he answers with a sinister smirk, following you into your house.
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clockwayswrites · 10 months
Text
A Broken Sort of Normal Part 6
WC: 1758 Masterpost
Danny was propped up on the couch in a mound of pillows. Flash had dutifully stood outside of the bathroom while Danny showered then redressed the forehead wound. Danny thought Flash must have ordered pizza during that time, because as soon as he had fussed over settling Danny into the couch, Flash was off. Danny was under strict orders not to move.
Just when the boredom started to to creep in there was the tell-tale whoosh of wind heralding the arrival of a Flash. The amount of pizza boxes balanced under what appeared to be game boxes was both impressive and a little intimidating.
Flash peered around the apartment. “You don’t have a table?”
“Nope,” Danny said, popping the p. “Didn’t have one to move with me. Besides, I eat on the couch myself and not like I have people over usually.”
“So will we…?”
“No, I’m going to make you eat on the floor,” Danny deadpanned.
“Oh, sure, okay—”
“Flash, I’m kidding. Yeah, we’ll eat on the couch.”
“Oh! Right!” Flash said, blushing red under the edge of his mask as he set down the tower of boxes. Once his arms were free, he pulled off a red yellow backpack and held it up. “I, um, I’m just going to go change?”
Danny couldn’t help but grin. “Is your backpack Flash themed?”
The blush deepened and Flash shifted his feet. “Yes. Look, my best friend got it for me, okay? Nightwing is… just like that.”
“Not judging,” Danny said, holding up his hands. His laughter may have ruined his sincerity a little, but being honest with himself, if it had existed, he would have had Phantom merch. “If you want to take a shower, spare towels are in the laundry closet right outside the bathroom.”
“I’m good, but thanks! You stay sitting,” Flash ordered before he zipped off to change.
Amusingly, when Flash was done, he walked back out like a normal person. Danny wondered how much it was secret identity habit not to zip around outside of the Flash uniform. The red sweat pants and well worn, long sleeve shirt were completely nondescript. They looked a little silly with the Flash mask still on, but Danny wasn’t going to judge someone for preserving their secret identity.
“Where are your plates?” Flash asked as he headed to the kitchen.
“Cabinet right above the dishwasher,” Danny said.
“Dude, planet plates! Cool! You like space?”
“Yeah, wanted to be an astronaut when I was a kid,” Danny said. The plates were one of his silly splurges from his first paycheck, but he needed plates, so why not have ones he loved?
“Me too— but only for like, three months. Apparently I was always changing my mind. What planet do you want?”
“Give me Jupiter today, feels right for eating pizza,” Danny said. He felt a little ridiculous relaxing at Flash’s obvious enjoyment of the plates, but it was just nice not to be nitpicked over his choice— to not be told it was too childish.
“Mars for me then! So, I got, like, a range of pizzas—”
“No kidding.”
“—but I like all of them, so take whatever you want and I’ll still be happy.”
“Do you really expect us to finish all of this?”
Flash shrugged as he came back over with the plates and two sodas from the fridge. “Yeah, I mean, I will. I have to eat lots.”
“Why— oh! Right, if you’re moving at super speed, all your cells are too which means you’re basically like a human hummingbird,” Danny said, nodding a little.
“Yeah, exactly! You’re pretty smart.”
Danny couldn’t help but snort at that. At Flash’s questioning look he just shrugged, “Not according to my family. But they all have doctorates, or will soon, so I’m just, you know, the dumb one.”
“Hey, I’ve seen you on the field lots now. You think quick and under a lot of tension. That’s not dumb, Danny.”
“Thanks,” Danny said, doing his best to give Flash a smile for the kind platitudes. “Now show me what pizzas you got. This place has a lot to live up to.”
And live up to the hype it did. Other than a basic pepperoni (that Danny had a feeling was the safe back up), the pizzas were all bizarre but delicious combinations Danny had never had before. He maybe ate a bit more than he should have, but it was hard to feel bad when Flash polished off almost all of the rest.
The few left overs were stored in the fridge before Flash dragged the coffee table up against the couch and stacked the empty boxes.
“So, I brought some low thinking games for us to play,” Flash said, spreading out the boxes.
“Snakes and Ladders?” Danny asked, picking up the box with a raised brow.
“Don’t knock the classics, dude.”
Danny snorted and looked over the rest. “Oh, Candy Land! You know, I never got to play that?”
“Well then we have to,” Flash said, picking it up and setting it up on the pizza boxes. The game was just high enough Danny wouldn’t have to lean over much to play. It was surprisingly thoughtful.
“What’s your favorite board game?” Danny asked before he thought better of it. “I mean, sorry, you don’t have to answer that, secret identity and all.”
“Nah, it’s fine! Like I can’t say anything too personal but I don’t think you’re going to find me out by what board games I like,” Flash said. “I guess… I’ve played Clue a lot but it’s more other people’s favorite and I, like, never win. It’s a basic bitch answer, but Settlers of Catan is always a good time.”
“Never played,” Danny admitted.
“Never? I’d say next time you have a concussion we can see if it’s too much thinking, but that sounds like I’m wishing for you to have a concussion and I really, really am not.”
Laughing, Danny took his turn, pulling a card and moving to the color. “I mean, I’m sure I will. This isn’t my first one and it wont be my last— not with the job I have.”
“Pessimistic, but you’re prob not wrong,” Flash said with a little pout.
“I mean, I’m going to try not to get hurt, if that’s any consolation. Your turn— for game and for a question.”
“Okay,” Flash said, spreading his hands. “I have a fuck, marry, kill question.”
“Sure, why not. Are we playing the real way?”
Flash tilted his head. He looked a little like a puppy with the motion (an adorable puppy). “The real way?”
“Yeah. Like, fuck but never see them again and marry but never get to fuck them,” Danny explained.
“Oh, dude, of course. There’s no stakes otherwise,” Flash said with a nod as he drew his card.
“Have at me then,” Danny said.
“Fuck, marry, kill: Lord Licorice, Mr. Mint, Princess Lolly.”
Danny hummed, leaning down to peer at the character art on the board. “Well, I guess I have to kill Lord Licorice since he’s the villain and I’m playing with a hero.”
“I mean, I guess fucking him would get rid of him too as long as you never left Candy Land. You could take one for the team,” Flash said with a laugh.
“True, but he looks like he’s into some weird shit so I’ll stick with kill. Then I guess… fuck Mr. Mint— who is a total twink, let’s be honest— and marry Princess Lolly. I’m okay being a kept man and exiling the Princess would cause a lot of political unrest.”
Flash tilted his head again in thought before nodding. “Solid choices. I’d agree.”
“Your turn. Fuck, marry, kill: Candy Land, Monopoly, and Snakes and Ladders,” Danny said, drawing his next card and moving his piece to the right color.
“The actual board games?”
“The personifications of the board games. Like, if the essence of Candy Land was a person.”
“Huh,” Flash said, leaning back. “Well, I mean, kill Monopoly, duh.”
“Right choice.”
“Then…” Flash chewed on his lip for a moment. “Marry Candy Land and fuck Snakes and Ladders.”
“Kinky,” Danny teased with a waggle of his eyebrows.
Flash laughed. “You know me I like those rungs and serpents. Wait- would that make me a furry? Can snakes even be furries since they’re, you know, no fur?”
“Yeah, they’re called scalies.” Danny shrugged at the look Flash was giving him. “Look, I’m on the internet a lot. You learn things.”
“I guess so. I wish I had the time, but also I’m kinda glad I don’t,” Flash said. He pulled a card with a little whoop as he got to take a short cut.
The game of Candy Land ended up surprisingly cut throat (Flash won), but it was nothing compared to Snakes and Ladders. Danny was satisfied taking the win there and leaned back into his mound of pillows.
“Okay, now that I’ve kicked your ass I think I need a break.” The sound of the dice rolling had been a bit much for his head.
“Oh sure, deprive me of revenge,” Flash said with a grin. He didn’t hesitate to start packing up the game, though he fidgeted with the pieces a little. “So, um, something that my— that someone does for me when I have a concussion is to read to me. Does that sound okay?”
Danny was stunned for a moment. He couldn’t remember when anyone had read to him. He’s sure his parents or Jazz must have, but he just didn’t remember. His parents were always busy and Jazz had her own things to read. It sounded… nice. “Um, yeah, sure. Did you bring something?”
“Yeah! Percy Jackson. Have you read them yet?”
“Nope. I wasn’t really… big on books for awhile,” Danny admitted.
“Oh, dude, you’re in for a treat! They’re a great series,” Flash said, perking up. “Settle in and lay down a little if you need.”
Danny was a bit hesitant to; his couch wasn’t that big. Flash didn’t seem to mind Danny tucking his toes under Flash’s thigh as he bundled down into the pillows, so he tried not to worry. Flash seemed happy enough to settle down too and start to read.
“Look, I didn’t want to be a half-blood.” Flash started, voice surprisingly soothing for how energetic the guy was. “If you’re reading this because you think you might be one, my advice is: close this book right now.”
This might have been the best concussion Danny ever had.
-----
AN: Thank you for all the thoughts on what the two could do! I couldn't fit in Jenga, but hopefully everyone likes where it went. I feel my writing is tad rough here, but still recovering from the medication change. Confession- I've actually not read the Percy Jackson books, but seems like a series Wally might remember fondly.
I no longer tag due to the new post editor and having been shadow banned. You can be notified in the same way by subscribing to this post.
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linos-luna · 3 months
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My Queen (Pt. 7) • Last part •
Yandere!Hyunjin x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Yandere, delusions, Stockholm Syndrome, smut, fingering, groping
(Pt. 6) (Last Part)
—————————— 👑———————————
The days come and go. As you plan your wedding, you feel like you’re in a dream. Hyunjin has become even more attentive and protective but you don’t mind. He gives you all the love and attention you could ever want. He wanted you to be happy everyday all day.
Your love for him has become stronger. No matter what anyone says, you know that Hyunjin is the prince that returned you to the castle at took you away from the dangerous world. The world is cruel. Full of awful people that want to hurt you and dangerous structures. It is much more safe to stay in the castle.
Speaking of, you love your castle. You’ve made it your own and decorated as you please. The bedroom is elegant and cozy, kitchen is rich with color and ingredients for the best food, and living room decorated beautifully. Every room was filled with your favorite colors and personal touch. Your castle is gorgeous.
You and Hyunjin have worked so hard on the garden. Growing strawberries, tomatoes and zucchini. Many other foods as well. The flowers? Well you grew some news but kept the older ones as well. The ones you couldn’t see? It’s silly to think they were never there. They were just to beautiful for the human eye to comprehend, but they are there, no doubt.
With the amount of growth and fluoresment present, you didn’t even realize how long you’ve been here. Perhaps a year…? Who knows. And it doesn’t even matter to you.
~~~~~~ 👑
It’s a beautiful spring day and you found yourself in the garden, picking the fresh strawberries from their vines. You can’t wait to eat them with your fiancé. Fresh strawberries, Greek yogurt, and granola. A perfect lunch.
You walk in with the basket of berries, taking them to the kitchen before washing your hands in the sink. You had gotten some dirt on your hands but you didn’t mind.
Hyunjin watched as you washed the strawberries and pulled out some bowls.
“What are you making, my love?” He speaks up suddenly.
“Parfaits.” You replied.
“My Queen, you do not need to work so hard.”
“It’s okay.” You say with a smile while cutting the stems from the strawberries. “I want to make it.”
Hyunjin shrugged, letting you continue. It wasn’t long before you finished and set the bowls on the table.
“My love, it looks amazing.”
“Thanks Jinnie.” You smile when watching him eat. He then feeds you. The fresh strawberries were sweet and delicious.
At some point, Hyunjin gave you a sudden kiss. The taste of strawberries lingered on your and his lips.
“What was that for?”
“Nothing.” Hyunjin chuckled. “I just love you.” He was always so sweet. Hyunjin looked at you with love in his eyes as he gently rubbed your cheek.
“I love you too Jinnie.” You replied with a smile. When finishing your food, Hyunjin gets up and cleans up the dishes. Meanwhile you look at your phone, reading the incoming messages. It was Jihyo. Hyunjin knows how important your friend is to you so he finally let you keep and use your phone. After all, There’s no reason not to trust you.
After responding, you slip your phone back in your pocket and move to the living room. Something was playing on the TV but it was more like background noise as you barely paid attention to it. Hyunjin sat next to you, giving a kiss to your cheek.
“My Queen? Do you know what today is?”
“Hm?”
“It’s our one year anniversary!” Hyunjin said excitedly.
“Oh wow.” You replied, now thinking about it. Had it really been a year??
“My love, it’s been a year since I brought you home.” He chuckled. “How could you forget?”
“I’m losing track of time I guess.”
“My sweet Queen… let me ravish you with love.” He said while turning your head to kiss your lips.
You gently kiss back as he puts his hand on your hip. This kisses were passionate and lips so addicting. You gasped softly as he kissed your neck and pushing you on your back.
Hyunjin looked over you while touching you under your shirt, massaging your braless breasts and continuing to kiss down your neck, nipping every once in a while. You let out breathy moans as he use one hand to palm over your pants.
This had you hot and needy. You desperately pulled your shirt off and tugged down your pants.
Hyunjin loved this and continued by sucking at your breasts and teasing your clit, slipping his fingers under your panties. This had you moaning and whimpering.
“My love, let me please you…” he whispered against your neck before slipping his two fingers in your cunt.
“F-fuck— Jinnie—!”
“Shh… relax my darling.”
Hyunjin slowly went in and out with his fingers, curving them ever so slightly to hit that sensitive bundle of nerves.
Breathy moans escaped your lips and your back slightly arched. It was hard not to sound like you’re crying as tears rolled down your cheeks. You tightly gripped his hair as you were already so close to reaching your high.
“Cmon, my love… cum on my fingers…”
“F-fuck—….” With a loud moan and eyes rolled back, you let go.
After pulling out his fingers, he stuck them in his mouth to taste your essence.
“My Queen…” he breathed. “My Queen is so sweet…”
You stared at him, feeling a bit dazed. His addictive plump limps and hypnotic eyes made you want more. You whimpered a little, needing his attention again. It was only a short bit before he started kissing you again.
“What’s wrong, my love?”
“I just want you…” you replied while holding on to him.
“Yeah? My sweet queen, you’ll always have me.” He smiled while rubbing your cheek. “My love, do you understand how beautiful you are?”
You only shook your head.
Hyunjin chuckled and rubbed your sides. “You are the most beautiful person ever… most kind and loving… no one deserves your graciousness.”
All you could do was blush at his compliments. He did this often but it always had you falling for him all over again.
“My sweet queen, I’ll protect you forever… I’ll keep the hideous world away…” Hyunjin continued giving soft kisses along your neck. “I love you… and I’ll never leave you… but will you ever leave me?”
“I would never.” You managed to get out between kisses.
"My Queen, I got you something," Hyunjin announced as he got up. "For the wedding."
Putting your shirt and pants back on, you followed him to the bedroom. "For your veil, you deserve a crown," he said, presenting a sparkly tiara, undoubtedly an exquisite and expensive piece. "I believe it will go perfectly with whatever dress you pick."
"Wow!" you said excitedly. "It's so pretty!"
Hyunjin smiled, placing the tiara on your head. "My Love, we will be going dress shopping today."
"Really?!"
"Yes. Now go get ready. Keep the crown on."
With a kiss on the lips, you eagerly headed to the closet to get dressed for the outing.
~~~~~~~~ 👑
Hyunjin took you to the finest stores in town to find the perfect wedding dress. His anxiety and paranoia were setting in as he stayed by your side and hyper vigilant. While in a bridal shop, Hyunjin waited patiently in the dressing room until the manager approached him.
"Sir, is that your fiancée?" she asked curiously.
"Yes.”
"Not to be rude, but isn't the bride supposed to go dress shopping with her mother and bridesmaids?"
Hyunjin shot her an annoyed expression. "Well, I'm shopping with her."
"Yes, but—?"
"She only needs me!" he blurted out, causing the woman to back off, concerned about his outburst.
She couldn’t help thinking about it, she feels like she’s seen you before… maybe online or tv…? It had her feeling extra suspicious of Hyunjin.
"Jinnie! I think I found the one!" you cheered as you emerged from the dressing room.
"My Queen, you look stunning!" he complimented, genuinely pleased. "I really like it."
"Then we should get it!"
As you changed, Hyunjin couldn't help but notice the manager staring at him. His paranoia growing, and despite your conversation from the dressing room, his mind wandered. "Something is wrong," he whispered to himself.
He was lost in a battle, tuning out everything around him. The struggle was evident, muttering phrases like "don't take her" until he snapped back to reality, facing a concerned policeman.
"Are you alright?" the officer asked with a raised brow.
"Why wouldn't I be alright? I'm just shopping with my fiancée!" Hyunjin laughed nervously, dismissing any suspicion.
The officer, however, mentioned a report of shady business and a potential missing person.
“Shady?? What do you mean?”
“I mean… you seem to be keeping a really close eye on your ‘fiancée’ and she looks like someone from a missing persons report.”
“Missing?! She’s not missing!”
“Well, not to you, obviously.
“She’s not missing.” He repeated.
“I’ll speak to her—”
“No!” Hyunjin snapped.
“What’s going on?” You said while poking your head out.
“Nothing, my love. Ignore it.”
“No, ma’am.” The cop said while walking up to you. “I just had a question.”
“Oh, okay?” You nodded awkwardly.
“I believe you’re on a missing persons report.”
“She’s not missing!” Hyunjin yelled.”
“Are you here willingly?” The cop said with a sigh.
“What? Of course I’m here willingly! I love Hyunjin!” You say quickly. “We’re gonna get married!”
“Okay. But were you kidnapped or—?”
“Kidnapped?!” You interrupted. “You have this all wrong. Hyunjin saved me. He brought me back to the castle.
“Are you sure?”
“He’s the love of my life! No one loves me like he does.” You say with a smile while looking at Hyunjin who was standing there nervously.
As he questioned you, Hyunjin grew defensive, insisting you weren't missing. The officer wanted to speak with you alone, but you refused,
“Alright, I just want to make sure.” The officer nodded. He was still a bit suspicious
“Ma’am are you sure you wouldnt you like to step to the side for a recorded statement? Maybe to the police station?”
“And leave Hyunjin?” You said with a frown while going to and hugging hyunjin’s arm. “No it’s not safe!”
“It’s the police station, you’ll be—”
“She doesn’t want to go with you.” Hyunjin interrupted.
“I’m sorry, officer but I don’t wanna go. I have to stay with Jinnie and finish getting ready for our wedding.”
The cop frowned, He was 100% you were the missing person but knows that there’s nothing he could do as you were an adult. He apologized and left you guys alone, writing down some notes.
The officer was still suspicious as he left and Hyunjin held you tight. “I told you it was dangerous out here! We must go home!”
You agreed, ready to pay and leave as soon as possible.
On the drive home, you discussed wedding plans, and Hyunjin marveled at your excitement, relieved to be away from the dangers outside the castle.
After returning home, Hyunjin helped you relax before a late dinner. As you sat down, you couldn't shake off the curiosity about the policeman's intentions.
"Jinnie?" you asked.
"Yes, my love?" Hyunjin replied.
"Why did that policeman want me to go with him?"
"Probably to steal you away," he sighed, "and lock you up."
"Why would he do that?"
"There are crazy and dangerous people out there. That's why you must stay here with me."
"Okay," you smiled. "Thank you for protecting me."
~~~~~ 👑
A month passed, and the day of the wedding arrived. The outdoor venue was adorned with your favorite colors and decorations. A priest stood at the altar, ready to officiate the ceremony.
Your friend Jihyo assisted you in getting ready, doing your makeup and hair. As you admired yourself in the mirror, Jihyo struck up a conversation.
"Y/n, are you sure about this..."
"Yes," you smiled, looking back at her.
Jihyo sighed. "Well, are you happy? Genuinely?"
"Mmhm, I am," you replied.
"Okay," Jihyo sighed, knowing there was nothing more she could do. As your friend, she wished for your happiness, and she'd be there if you.
"Y/n, I'm happy for you. If you ever need anything, I'm always here for you. Come see me if you need anything."
You gave your friend a hug, and with that, Jihyo ushered you towards the aisle, where Hyunjin awaited. Tears formed in your eyes as you nodded, ready to marry the love of your life.
As the ceremony unfolded, the music played, your heart was racing. Walking down the aisle, you felt overwhelming joy. Marrying Hyunjin meant spending the rest of your life with the one you love, and that prospect filled you with great happiness. This marked the beginning of the happiest day of your life.
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sweet-as-an-angel · 1 year
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Platonic Yandere Ghost x Childhood BFF Reader
Warnings: No pronouns used for Reader except for ‘You’, spoilers for Ghost's past, mentions of abuse, angst, fluff, yandere Ghost, toxic behaviour, possessive behaviour, kidnapping, arguing, guilt tripping, intrusive thoughts, etc.
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Ghost would never let anyone else have you.
To him, you are the one fragment of his life which is truly his own, that doesn't belong to the dark confines of his childhood or the military.
You were, to put it plainly, Simon's safe haven.
Having known each other since childhood, you are the person who is nearest and dearest to Simon, and he to you.
You were there to shelter him from the abuse of his father, taking him into your home and showing him what a real family could be.
You were there when he decided to join the military, a decision you were concerned about yet supported him nonetheless.
You were there to celebrate his return home, throwing your arms around him and telling him how much you missed him.
You also cooked the most delicious meal he could imagine, and he'd polish all of it off without fail.
And for all these reasons, Ghost is absolutely feral when it comes to you.
He knows it's selfish, but he thinks that you're his and his alone.
If you tell him you're going out with some other friends, he'll mope about it.
Perhaps not in front of you. But he may guilt trip you into staying home with him so you can cuddle.
He loves holding you btw, and being held by you.
He feels protected - safe - like nothing can hurt him.
Reminds him of how you and your family would protect him from his own home life, the two of you sharing your single bed and you playing with his hair, promising you'll never let anyone hurt him.
I should be telling you that, is what he thought to himself then, wrapped in your embrace.
And it's what he tells himself now as he argues with you, telling you that you can't trust those people you call friends - they're only out to hurt you!
"Not everything is a mission, Simon!" you'd snap. "Not everyone is out to get you or me; they're just people! We are just people!"
"I'm only trying to protect you."
You can only sigh, both of you aware of how well that line works on you because you know it's true.
"I know, Si. But I just want to live my life. The same way I want you to live yours."
You rarely argue aside from that. Which is what makes your confrontations so explosive at times.
One evening, after you came back late with the shopping, Ghost snapped.
It was a screaming match the second you walked through the door, Ghost demanding you tell him what took you so long, telling you why you were a liability to yourself, why you needed him with you at all times.
The details grew hazy around then. And with good reason.
While begging Ghost to just let you live without casting suspicion on every relationship you had and every decision you made, Ghost threw himself at you, muffling you with a cloth.
It smelled strange. Medical.
You tried fighting back, knowing what it was, but the substance had already taken hold and made you sink into Simon's chest.
You knew where you'd be when you woke up, just not where.
You knew you'd be locked up somewhere, a dark warehouse or a cabin in a forest, but you didn't know exactly the location of these chambers.
Lo and behold, vision coming back to you, you found your answer.
Indeed, Ghost had confined you to a cabin in the woods.
A tinted window decorated the wall, bars bolted across it.
You knew Simon, and you knew nobody would be able to see in while you could see out, a peep show of freedom you'd never have again.
You suspected the doors were metal, too. Too heavy for you to open and sealed with a code or a key that only Ghost had.
Speaking of, he resided in a chair by your bedside, mask on, watching you.
The room was dark, the night not yet having ended.
He must have had this planned, you thought. Unless he's waited a whole day to wait for me to wake up.
Your heart pounded, your nerves burned.
You didn't know who should talk first. You and Simon had a system that one or the other should start a conversation based on who started one last time. A game then, an uncertain future now.
"I told you I only wanted to protect you."
Ghost's voice sent shivers up your spine. As did his mask, the white details of which barely poked through the darkness.
This wasn't your Simon, you concluded. This was a damaged man possessed by his actions - by the persona he'd fashioned for himself to protect him.
He watched you now; a protector guarding a protector.
It felt confrontational, in a way. You, the one who'd done nothing but love and care for Simon all his life, and Ghost, the phantom that took hold of him when the situation called for it.
You were his next mission.
"And I told you--" you flinched at how dry your throat was, "--that I don't need protecting."
Wordlessly, Ghost took a glass of water form the bedside table and offered it to you.
When you didn't take it, not even sparing it a glance, his eyes burned.
He growled, stood, and threw it against the wall, the glass smashing, the sound making you flinch. The intrusive thought of you walking on it flashed in your mind, making you flinch again.
No, this was not your Simon at all.
Ghost, breathing heavily, looked down at you.
Your arm was cuffed to the bed on a very short leash, giving you no way to even go to the bathroom, never mind the bedroom door.
Ghost, seemingly calmer now, eyes softening, reached a hand out towards you.
You winced at the prospect of this stranger touching you, this alternate person Simon told you about when he came back from his travels, the one who killed, bled and suffered for an unknown cause.
And now, his cause was you.
"I love you, (Y/N)." His voice was deep, almost as if his throat was as dry as yours. "I want you to know that this--" he gestured to the room, "--is only temporary."
You swallowed, pain splintering in your throat, multiplying like an infection.
With his once-outstretched hand, Ghost held your shoulder, then placed a knee on the bed.
You wanted to jump back, but Ghost's growing grip on you stole that option from you.
He lay on his side, facing you, encouraging you with a sentimental gaze to do the same.
With few options, you complied, though opted to face away from him.
He didn't seem to care, pulling you into him, encasing you with his frame.
Your position was the inverse of what it had been when you were children, when you'd tried cover Simon with as much of yourself as possible, blanketing him; as if to take the bullets that were meant for him, to absolve him of any more pain.
"It' my turn to take care of you now." Ghost said, his voice quiet yet booming in your ear. He squeezed you, punctuating his point.
"Nothing can hurt you anymore."
You're hurting me, you wanted to say, tears welling in your eyes and throat.
You willed yourself to succumb to sleep, to dream of a life wherein Ghost did not exist, and where this was only you and Simon, holding each other as you did when you were younger, dreaming of a better future.
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