SYNOPSIS: when charles is woken up by his son demanding to make you breakfast in bed, he finds it hard to say no.
WARNINGS: fluff, dad!charles, slight rbr slander from pierre lolzies
A/N: i apologize to the person who requested this bc i feel like this is so badly written, but i spent so much time just staring at this fic that i just want to get it done and other with. i loved the request so much, just wish i could have executed it better :(
as always, don't be a ghost reader!
the first thing charles thought on the morning of his first day of summer break was that someone was trying to steal his arm. the tugging on his arm was constant, whoever wanted his arm seemed to be struggling.
charles opened his eyes, blinking once, and then once again, until his vision cleared up. there–up close and personal–stood a little boy, his beautiful son, hands wrapped around his father’s bicep, a pout on his pink lips.
“papa, levez-vous,” get up, he whispered, “i’m hungry.”
charles groaned lightly, pressing his face into his pillow, “léo, c'est trop tôt” it’s too early.
his arm was shaken, hard, “but papa,” the boy whined, “you said that if we wake up before maman, we can make her breakfast in bed.”
charles sluggishly raised his head and turned it to the side. léo was right, you were still sleeping, chest raising up and down ever so softly.
any other day and charles would have been surprised to see you still asleep, but yesterday had been a busy day with you and léo making guest appearances on the paddock, and an even busier night celebrating charles’ podium once léo had gone to bed.
charles turned back to his son, the playful pout on his own lips challenged léo’s, “what about breakfast in bed for me? i won the race yesterday.”
léo huffed, hands resting on his lightning mcqueen pajama-clad hips, “papa, we had a whole fancy dinner for you. vous êtes trop gourmand!” you are so greedy!
“gourmand?” charles perched up on his elbow, blanket dropping to his lower torso. he shivered at the sudden rush of cool air, “qui t'a appris ce mot?” greedy?…who taught you that word?
“tonton pierre! he said that’s what redbull was being when they took him out of the team.” léo’s eyes were wide as he explained the context to his father.
charles shook his head in amusement, of course pierre would say that. ever since léo declared that he wanted a redbull racesuit for his birthday, pierre had been adamant about changing his mind. ‘aren’t you enraged that he likes redbull more than ferrari?’ he had asked charles once. you had laughed and elbowed charles, ‘forget rage. charles cries about it every night when léo asks for him to call max’.
and it was true. charles’ call history always contained max’s number, and max couldn’t help but anticipate every time he got a call from charles in the late hours of the day. every time he answered the facetime call, léo would appear with a big smile and a ‘tonton maxie!’.
charles hated to admit it, but his son’s closet was almost split between ferrari and redbull merch, the occasional white and blue of alpha tauri peeking out.
“can we go now?” léo’s hands were back on charles’ arm, “maman might wake up if we keep talking.”
charles sighed before nodding in agreement, “have you brushed your teeth yet?”
the boy shook his head and charles gave him a look. léo huffed, “you better not go back to bed.”
charles let out a breathy chuckle, watching léo rush out of the room. as much as he would love to go back to bed, he didn’t want to face léo’s wrath. he’d taken after you in that category, always ready to speak his mind when things didn’t go as planned.
charles quietly swung his legs over the bed and stepped out, tucking the blanket against you gently so you wouldn’t wake up from the cold. he tried to keep the noise to a minimum as he threw on a hoodie and some sweatpants.
the two leclerc boys met at the bottom of the stairs, freshly-brushed teeth and minty breaths. charles and you had decided to switch léo to minty toothpaste earlier than most other parents made the switch themselves, having caught the then four-turning-five-year-old sucking his toothpaste out of the bottle and eating it. we’ve all had those days, right?
“d’accord, mon petit chou. what should we make maman?” charles ruffled leo’s hair as he walked past him. alright, my little cabbage.
léo clapped his hands excitedly, instantly stopping with an apologetic look when charles shushed him gently, “can we make pancakes?”
charles searched the pantry, “hmm, i think we’ve got everything we need for it. sure!”
léo walked over to the side of the kitchen to grab the little step stool you and charles had bought for him.
charles had read online once that letting your kids help around in the kitchen made them smarter and helped them learn about nutrition, sending you a link and a ‘we should do this with léo’ before getting into his car and setting out for his race. that week, after charles returned, the two of you went shopping for some children-friendly appliances, excited to introduce léo to something new.
the six-year-old positioned himself right in front of the large bowl charles had set out. the older leclerc stood to the side, looming over the open utensils drawer. he pulled out two items, a spatula and a whisk, before holding them up in the air.
“léo, which one should we use?” as much as charles wanted to say he was asking this as a learning experience for his son, the monégasque was truly clueless.
léo pointed to the whisk and charles brought it over, moving on to grab the ingredients next. he handed léo the box of pancake mix, “okay, bébé, do you think you can tell me what ingredients we’re going to need?”
the boy nodded excitedly, flipping the box around and slowly reading the steps. after a few seconds, he gave up, impatient, and looked at the pictures instead, “papa, milk!”
charles faltered for a second, waiting for the next ingredient that never came, “that’s it?”
léo hummed, “yup! see, the front says just add milk! ajoutez juste du lait!” just add milk!
“alright then,” he pulled the milk out of the fridge, “whatever you say, chef léo.”
“papa,” the boy giggled, hand to his mouth to hide his smile–something he learned from you, “i’m not a chef! i don’t have my chef hat on.”
ah, the chef hat. another one of charles’ impulse buys after he saw one small enough to fit around léo’s head. he bought the same ones in larger sizes for both himself and you, and demanded that they had to cook something that night so they could wear the hats.
that same night, f1 fans went crazy over the domestic photodump charles had posted to his instagram, starting with a picture of the three of you with matching chefs hats, and ending with progress pictures of your attempt at making pizza from scratch.
charles pulled the hat out and placed it on léo’s head, grabbing another one and placing it on his own head, “okay, chef léo. shall we begin?”
“we shall!” he shook the pancake mix in excitement, handing it over to charles to open and measure.
it wasn’t long until both boys moved over to the stove, although léo had been sat on the island right across from the stove so he could watch without the risk of getting burned.
“what toppings should we use, papa?” léo was holding onto a bottle of chocolate syrup, something charles had taken out of the pantry along with honey and an array of berries.
“well, do you know what maman’s favourite fruit is?” charles flipped the pancake over.
“strawberries!” léo replaced the chocolate syrup with the bowl of chopped strawberries near him. his eyes still lingered on the chocolate syrup, “can we still put some syrup on top?”
charles chuckled, having already expected that question. when you had been pregnant with léo, your cravings always included chocolate in one for or another, and as a result, léo leclerc was obsessed with chocolate.
“of course we can, ma fève de cacao.” my cocoa bean.
the two leclercs worked like an assembly line, with charles cooking pancakes while léo decorated them with strawberries and chocolates. after yours was done, and charles had finished making his own and léo’s, charles joined the younger boy in plating and setting up the tray that they would take up to your room.
hopefully, you’d still be asleep.
right before charles could attempt his way up the stairs, léo gasped, hands placing themselves on the bottom of charles’ back, “papa! nous avons oublié le jus.” we forgot the juice!
charles stared at the already full tray, “mon amour, je ne pense pas que nous ayons de la place sur le plateau.” my love, i don’t think we have any space on the plate.
léo contemplated before smiling, “one second!”
he ran off into the pantry, a few grunts escaping his lips as he searched for whatever he was trying to find. charles was intrigued, watching his son come out of the pantry with three juice boxes.
he let out a loud laugh, “tu es très intelligent, petit chat.” you’re very smart, little cat.
léo pouted, a foot stamping against the tiled floor, “papa! i’m not un petit chat, i’m léo! a lion! un gros chat!” a big cat.
“ouais, ouais. let’s go, lion, the pancakes are getting cold.”
léo rushed out in front of charles, climbing up the stairs speedily before turning around to watch his father maneuver slowly up the same steps. when charles finally reached the top, léo opened the door and ran up to your still sleeping body.
he poked your cheek, “maman,” his voice was low, “maman, wake up.”
much like your husband, you groaned, not wanting to wake up. léo poked your nose next, giggling as you scrunched it up and batted at his hand lightly. he shook you, “maman, get up! we have a surprise!”
you blinked your eyes open, squinting at the light that peeked through the curtains, “what time is it?”
your son smiled wide, moving close enough so his face was all that you saw, “it’s breakfast time!”
“léo, inside voices,” the sound of charles’ voice caused you to flit your eyes up. there he stood, at the foot of the bed with a tray of pancakes and a soft smile on his face, “good morning, ange.”
you pulled yourself up, leaning against the headboard, “what’s this?”
you couldn’t wipe the smile off your face as charles brought the tray over to you, placing it in front of you. léo hopped onto the bed, placing a juice box in front of both you and charles, leaving his in his lap.
you wiped the sleep out of your eyes, “is it like, mother’s day or something? my birthday? am i forgetting something?”
charles smiled, reaching over the plate to place a kiss on your forehead. when he leaned back, léo replaced him, also placing a kiss on your forehead. unlike his father, he also patted your head, no doubt trying to tame your monstrous bed hair.
charles looked at the two of you fondly, “nothing special. notre petit lion voulait vous faire le petit déjeuner au lit.” our little lion wanted to make you breakfast in bed.
you looked over at léo who was smiling shyly, “merci, mon petit chaton.” thank you, my little kitten.
charles smirked to himself, waiting for léo to interject and tell you that he wasn’t a little kitten, but was amazed when léo smiled and cuddled up into your side, showing you the pancake he had decorated into a smiley face for you.
charles couldn’t stop his mouth from opening in shock, “léo, how come when i called you un petit chat, you corrected me, but when maman calls you un petit chat, you don’t say anything?”
you giggled at your husband’s pout, and léo stuck his tongue out at his father, “because i’m only maman’s kitten!”
charles narrowed his eyes at you, who hid behind léo’s head, the shaking shoulders giving away your amusement.
“y/n,” he slumped over, whining, “comment peux-tu me faire ça?” how could you do this to me?
you took a deep breath, willing yourself not to laugh before looking at charles, “sorry, i don’t speak french, i have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“oh, mon dieu, you are so annoying sometimes,” he snaked his hand back to the tray, “i’m not sure you deserve this anymore.”
before you could do it yourself, léo grabbed the other end off the tray and pulled it towards you.
“papa! no funny business,” his brows were furrowed and hands were back on his hips like earlier. charles bit his lip to hold back his laughter and you looked away to hide yours.
léo pointed a finger to the pancakes, “the pancakes are getting cold! we need to eat them.”
you cleared your throat, a smile still present on your lips, “you are absolutely correct, mon petit. where should we start?”
and with that, the three of you finally started eating your breakfast in bed. and though the pancakes had significantly cooled down, and were soggy from the chocolate syrup, you would easily say that it was one of the best breakfasts you had, watching your husband and child banter about who made the mess in the kitchen and who would clean it.
and even though you knew that you would end up cleaning the kitchen, nothing could ruin the happiness that filled you when you looked down at your plate and saw the small strawberry small and blueberry eyes looking back up at you.
"I think I knew it was over when I stopped crying."
Your heart aches as you listen to your friend's story, the events leading up to their recent breakup.
"I used to get so upset when he wouldn't come to bed with me, crying because I felt so lonely and wondering if there was something wrong with me...and then eventually...the tears stopped coming and I knew."
You nod solemnly. "It was over. I'm so sorry." You offer a hug, not sure what else to say or do.
The conversation doesn't last much longer. You part ways with a promise to check in again with each other soon and make sure your friend knows to call you for anything.
On the walk home you think about everything you heard.
The quick fuse.
Inability to apologize.
Indifference to each other's presence.
It really is heartbreaking and your friend's heavy emotions cling to you as you climb the stairs to your apartment.
"I'm home," you call out as you leave your shoes and your boyfriend's steady voice answers from the kitchen.
"Welcome back." Sakusa doesn't turn around when you shuffle in; his attention's on the bento he's packing for lunch tomorrow.
He's hunched over the counter as his fingers place each piece of food with a care and delicacy that contradict the ferocity of his presence on the court.
"How was your visit?" He asks. You don't need to see his face to know his brow will be pinched in that adorably serious way.
You don't answer.
Instead, heart sopping with a myriad of your own emotions, you hug him from behind. He straightens up and tries to look over his shoulder as you press your face into his back.
"I love you, Omi. So much."
You can feel his hesitation and concern, his task momentarily forgotten.
"I appreciate everything you do, everything you've done for us...for me..." You cling to him like he's a life raft. "Acknowledging your faults and wanting to grow as a person...helping me do the same. And not because you don't think I'm good enough but to support me and help me be the best I can be...to help us be the strongest we can be..."
You shakily inhale and squeeze him. "I'm so grateful to have you in my life...and I love you...so much."
You don't need to see his face to know how close he is to tears, hearing everything in his voice when he replies with equal fervency.
could make an imagine where reader fem is a goddess or an immortal being who is caught and imprisoned along with morpheus and after a century spent in that bubble with the infinite being and keeping each other company, she created affection for the same however free now she she doesn't know if dream wants her by his side, since now he has responsibility and a kingdom to rebuild, and she has a lost century to chase.🤗🤗
A/N: Okay, I love this idea...hope you do too! 💜
Pairing: Morpheus x immortal!reader
Summary: Reader is an immortal who was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time and was captured alongside Morpheus when Roderick Burgess cast his spell to imprison death. The two form a bond during their century of captivity, but what happens after they're free?
Warnings: Angst (obvi), and definitely a fluffy ending. Discussions of captivity and Jessamy's death.
You were walking down a dark road at night, completely alone, with not a single concern for your safety. You often took walks late at night to ease your mind and help you sleep. You had lived far longer than any of your human companions could ever dream, but such a life took its toll on you. The loneliness had begun to creep in after a lifetime of losing everyone you had ever loved, again and again, with no end in sight.
You were nothing special, not a goddess or a powerful being of any kind. You were once mortal, but you had been granted a gift long ago by a woman you had befriended, the only woman who had managed to live as long as you. You had known her as Teleute, though others would call her Death.
You had been sick, dying, and Teleute had come to you in the moments preceding what should have been your death. She was your friend and you knew her well, but in that moment, you saw her for what she was. Unlike many of the people she had guided in her Endless life, you were not afraid, not of her, nor of the Sunless Lands. Although it was her duty, Teleute could not bring herself to watch your life come to a close. Instead, she gifted you immortality, the chance to live endless lives, the opportunity to spread your warmth and compassion to countless others in the coming centuries.
It was a gift you did not waste, nor did you wish to return it, but it had become a heavy burden at times like these. Moments when you laid to rest someone you had loved, whether it be friend or lover, it hurt all the same.
This particular evening, you wandered the dark streets, plagued by memories of those you had lost, sleep a distant dream. Just up ahead, you heard voices, one sounded frightened, but it was the other that caught your attention. The voice was impossibly deep, and it carried with it an authority you felt deep in your bones. The voice reminded you of black velvet, thick and luxuriously laid across your skin, warming you from the outside in.
As you neared the source of the voices, you suddenly felt a strange pull, and the world around you disappeared. You landed with a painful thud on a cold concrete floor, in a place you did not recognize. When your eyes fluttered open, you saw several people standing around you, and a cloaked figure lying on the floor beside you. You watched in horror as they removed each item of clothing from the figure, including a helmet of sorts, a leather pouch, and what appeared to be a ruby necklace. When all was stripped away, the figure of a man laid bare before you.
Though you did not know him, anger rippled through you at the cruel and careless treatment shown to him. "Who are you?" you angrily demanded of the man you deemed to be in charge.
"I am Roderick Burgess, the Magus, and I have captured Death."
You let out a hoarse laugh. "I do not know who this man is, but I can assure you he is not Death, nor, for the record, am I."
The man, Burgess, did not look convinced. "My spell brought you both to me, so if you are not Death, then who are you?"
You shrugged. "No one of consequence, at least not to you. So it seems your spells may need a bit of work."
He leaned in closer to you, careful to avoid the circle that surrounded you, a circle, you quickly realized, that was a boundary spell. "Perhaps some time alone in the darkness will soften you a bit. I have demands that one or both you must meet if you wish to see the light of day again." He paused, then gestured towards his acolytes. "But first, you will be stripped of your belongings, much like your friend."
To your horror, several men grabbed at your clothing and quickly rid you of it, down to nothing but your slip. You shivered in the cold, most of your skin bare for everyone to see, feeling the flames of rage settle into your bones. "You will pay for this disgrace, Roderick Burgess, of that, I promise you."
He did not seem bothered by your words, instead letting out a barked laugh as he walked away, his acolytes trailing behind him.
Your anger dissipated slightly when the spectators had left, turning instead to concern for the being laying next to you. You had nothing to cover him with, though you desperately wished for even a scrap of cloth you could share with him. He had to be cold, lying bare against in the concrete floor. "Are you alright?" you asked softly.
The man did not respond, but you could see the rise and fall of his chest, assuring you he was alive. "My name is (Y/N)," you said gently, just in case he could hear you. "I do not know why we are here, nor where exactly here is, but I will not leave you. I offer you what protection I can and I offer the promise of my companionship for as long as we are bound to this place."
While the man did not respond, you had a distinct feeling he could hear every word you said. His tense form seemed to relax slightly as you spoke, the obvious pain in his muscles seeming to fade away little by little.
Hours passed, how many, you did not know, but the man beside you never stirred, never woke. What you were unaware of was what was happening just above your heads, in the office of Roderick Burgess...
"He is Dream of the Endless," The Corinthian said.
"And what of the woman?" Burgess asked.
Corinthian looked confused. "What woman?"
"I captured a woman with him. She will not tell me who she is."
"Was she wearing an ankh necklace?"
"Hmm...then I am unsure of who she is. My apologies. But I would recommend placing her in the same cell as Dream, to be safe."
Corinthian sighed. He was surprised that a man as dense as Burgess had managed to capture an Endless, but pleased nonetheless. "Yes, a cell. An orb of sorts. Do exactly as I say and he will never escape."
Down in the dungeon, you watched as men built a giant glass sphere, a sphere you assumed was intended for you and your companion, a companion who still had not woken. Much to your dismay, and perhaps your annoyance, you were correct in your assumption.
Your companion was unceremoniously tossed into this sphere upon its completion and though you fought with all your strength, you were tossed in along with him. You sat at the edge of the sphere, legs pulled up to your chest, desperately attempting to cover as much of yourself as you could with the tiny slip dress you wore. Your companion was curled up in the other corner, pain evident in his features, and you felt the rage build up in you again.
"You're a monster," you said to Burgess as he entered the room.
He laughed. "Perhaps, but if you give me what I want, I will free you."
"It does not matter what you wish for, I cannot give it."
"The you had better hope your friend can, or you will die in this glass cage, here in my dungeon."
You did not speak, choosing instead to level a steely glare at the man who had imprisoned you. Something in your gaze clearly frightened him, and he quickly left the dungeon, but not before ordering two of his men to stay behind and watch you.
You chose to ignore the men who stared at you, clearly trying to get a sneak peak at your body beneath the thin slip you wore. You instead turned your attention to the man beside you, whispering words of encouragement in his direction. You were worried about him, fearing the worst, but his chest still rose and fell rhythmically, at least for the moment.
You were unsure how much time had passed when the man beside you finally stirred. You felt his presence more strongly than you had before, as if his soul had just now returned to his body. He was slow to move, as if each movement caused him pain, and your heart ached for him.
"Are you alright?" you asked gently, voice a soft murmur.
His gaze turned to you and you inhaled sharply. His eyes were deep pools of blue, but there was a distinct ethereal quality about them that took your breath away. You might have been nothing special, but there was certainly something special about the being beside you.
He did not speak, at least not audibly, but you heard a gentle voice inside your head, a voice you instantly recognized. "I am weak, but alive, thanks to your kindness."
It was the voice you had heard the night you were captured, the one that you felt inexplicably drawn to. "My name is (Y/N)," you whispered.
"I am Dream of the Endless," his voice replied in your head.
Hearing his name brought back memories, memories of your dear friend. "I know your sister, Teleute."
Surprise lit up his features and he eyed you closely. His voice was hesitant as he spoke in your mind, "You know of Death?"
You nodded. "She has been my friend for centuries. I live only because she allowed it."
Realization crossed his face, remembering his sister describing the woman she had gifted immortality to. He had never met her, but he felt as though he knew her simply through Death's stories. He did not know how to relay that information to you without verbal words in his current state. He was barely strong enough to speak short sentences within your mind.
As if you understood what he was thinking, you placed a gentle hand against his and whispered, "Rest now, we can speak later."
He appreciated your kindness, but also the warmth of your hand against his. He nodded and leaned back against the cold glass, eyes closing again.
You felt instinctively protective of Dream, in part because of your connection with Death, but also because much like Death had spoken to Dream of you, she had also told you about him. He was every bit as she had described him, though smaller and more fragile than you had expected. You realized it was likely because everything had been taken from him, things he relied upon for strength and power. You knew there was not much you could do for him in the way of protection, but you silently vowed that you would do everything in your power to ensure you both got out of this alive.
The years passed by, Dream never speaking a word aloud, Burgess never backing down from his demands, and you refusing to give Burgess the satisfaction of your emotional reactions. You were as silent as the Endless beside you, but when Burgess left, you would speak softly to the dream lord, and he would reply in your head.
As time passed, he grew strong enough to speak long, slow sentences in your mind, telling you of his home, The Dreaming, and of the dream folk who resided there. He spoke of Lucienne, his librarian, and of Jessamy, his beloved Raven.
There were moments, when he spoke, that is eyes seemed to glow with starlight. It was a beautiful sight, but it never lasted more than a moment, the realization of his predicament always dampening any glimmer of hope he held in his soul.
Unbeknownst to you, he had found hope in you. You were like a light in the darkness, keeping him from falling into complete despair. Your soft words and your gentle reassurances were enough to keep him going despite the hell you both remained in.
One morning, much to your surprise, and to his, you heard the sound of wings flapping outside the sphere. When you looked up, you saw a beautiful raven with a patch of white on her chest and you knew instantly this was Jessamy, Dream's beloved raven companion.
Dream's face lit up for the first time in years. You saw the hope in his eyes and the pure delight at seeing his friend. Jessamy frantically pecked against the glass, desperately trying to break it and set her master free.
As the glass began to crack, you heard a loud gunshot ring out and the beautiful bird fell to the floor, bloody and broken.
You felt Dream's pain and your heart broke for him, and for his sweet raven. When your eyes fell on the man--no, boy--who had committed this heinous act, you felt a venomous rage build up within you.
As the boy's father yelled at him and demanded he clean up the mess he'd made, you sat silent beside the dream lord, like two statues refusing to show emotion.
When the boy and his father left, leaving the two of you alone with your guards, you turned to Dream, expression soft and sad. "Dream?" you asked gently.
He turned to look at you, eyes haunted and filled with unshed tears.
You did not ask for his permission, you simply wrapped him in a hug and held him close. He would not cry, you knew, but you would not let him mourn alone.
After several minutes, the dream lord laid down beside you and placed his head in your lap. Your fingers ran through his soft hair, soothing him as he closed his eyes and tried to rid himself of the painful image forever burned in his mind.
It had been 50 years since the two of you had been imprisoned when things began to change between you both. Your companionship had long-since turned to friendship, but now was blossoming into something more. Every time you spoke or looked his way, Dream felt a warmth in his chest he hadn't felt in centuries. And you relished in the sound of his voice resonating in your mind, and in the way his eyes held your gaze, unspoken emotions swimming deep within them.
You had told him of your life, the good and the bad, and you had spent most of the last 50 years wide awake, whether you wanted to or not. Dream had noticed this several years prior and asked you if you wished to sleep. At the time, your answer had been no, you had not wished to relive your life's worst moments, but now, after the passage of so much time, you were exhausted. Your mind had been foggy for ages, a fog Dream was painfully aware of every time he spoke words into your mind.
"Perhaps I can gift you a peaceful sleep? One lacking in any dreams at all," he spoke softly in your mind.
His words barely registered at all and you said nothing. Dream felt a deep worry in his heart and he reached out again. When you still did not reply, he reached a hand out and placed it against your arm, rousing you from your trance-like state.
You turned your head to look at him and he once again asked you if you would like to sleep. This time, you nodded your head and he closed his eyes, taking a moment to gather what little strength he had. He could not do much in his current state, but he was determined to give you this.
You slowly closed your eyes and drifted off into a silent, dreamless sleep, a gift from the lord of dreams himself. Your body went limp and you slumped against his shoulder, breath deepening as you relaxed into a peaceful slumber.
Dream's body tensed at first at the feeling of your head against his shoulder, but he soon relaxed, enjoying the feeling of your body so close to his.
You slept for days, a deep, restful sleep you had not realized you were so desperately in need of. When you finally awoke, you found yourself cradled against Dream's chest, the gentle beating of his heart soothing your worried mind.
You did not wish to alert him to your waking, but he felt it all the same. He was, after all, the god of sleep. "Did you sleep well?" he asked in your mind, a mind that was much sharper and clearer than it had been in years.
"I did, yes," you lifted your head and looked up into his eyes, surprised at the deep emotion you saw within them. If you had not known better, you would have described those beautiful pools as affectionate, even loving. "Thank you," you whispered.
"It was my pleasure."
Another 50 years passed and by this point, you were starting to lose hope that you would ever escape. Your only pleasure was the companionship you had gained over the last century. The dream lord was unlike any being you had ever met and you'd found yourself falling in love with him, despite the terrible situation you were in.
You had not said a word to him, nor would you, at least not while in captivity. You did not want him to think you cared for him only because he was all there was. Now that you knew him, truly knew him, you knew that was exactly the way he would think.
On this particular day, Alex and his husband, Paul, had come to visit you one last time. As they left, Paul broke the boundary spell that had held you both for a century. He turned and gave you a look of acknowledgment before leaving the dungeon for the final time.
Your eyes met Dream's in a hopeful glance and he inclined his head slightly to acknowledge you. He knew what you were asking without speaking and he answered without words.
You watched as the scene unfolded before you. You did not know what images Dream had placed into the guard's mind, all you knew was that the glass was broken and you were finally free.
Dream took your hand and you felt the power in his veins that had been missing for a century. He was suddenly clothed, his long cloak returning to him. He turned to you and placed a soft kiss against your forehead as you stood there in the dungeon, bullets flying around you. You felt warm clothes cover your body and your eyes locked onto the dream lord's face. You knew what he was doing, and you did not fault him for it.
When he was finished, his eyes fluttered open and he pulled you in close, holding you tightly before you both disappeared, leaving the waking world entirely.
You landed in what felt like soft sand, but you could not figure out where you were. There was a breeze and the sound of waves, but you could not feel Dream's body any more.
You heard the sound of a voice you did not know and then you heard the warmth of Dream's voice covering you like waves on the beach. "Dream?" you called out.
"I am here," he said softly, reaching down to help you to your feet.
Your eyes adjusted to your new surroundings, seeing light for the first time in a century. You looked around, taking in what really did appear to be a beach, and a giant walled...city? Memories came flooding back to you and you realized this was Dream's home. "The Dreaming," you said in awe.
Dream smiled at you warmly. "Welcome, (Y/N), to my realm."
Your eyes landed on a woman you knew instantly, though you had never met. "You must be Lucienne," you said warmly.
The librarian looked surprised. "You know me?"
You looked up at Dream. "We had some time to talk..."
He winced slightly, but nodded his agreement. He began to walk towards the massive gates, you following behind him, and Lucienne just behind you.
"Sir?" Lucienne called.
Dream turned to her. "What is it, Lucienne?"
"The Dreaming sir, it is not as you left it."
"What do you mean?"
She gestured to the gates. "See for yourself."
The gates opened as if they sensed their master. When you saw what laid beyond them, you gasped in surprise.
Dream turned to Lucienne and whispered, "Who did this?"
Lucienne explained that The Dreaming had simply deteriorated over the century he had been gone...and that most of the dream folk had long since left.
Your heart immediately went out to Dream, the pain on his face evident as he took in the remains of his home. You stepped forward and slipped your hand into his, a gentle reassurance as well as a reminder that you were there for him, whatever he needed.
Although he did not speak, he was incredibly thankful to have you by his side, to give him strength when all seemed hopeless. But to you, the outside observer, all you could see was cold sorrow, none of the warmth that he had shown you over the years.
"I must gather my tools and rebuild," he said simply, a fierce determination lacing his voice. He pulled away from you and began to walk towards what remained of his palace, a king on his way to a broken throne.
You turned to look at Lucienne, seeking some sort of guidance, or perhaps comfort, in her eyes. What you saw was a piercing sadness, not just for The Dreaming, or for Dream himself, but for you. In her eyes, you saw her view of Dream, the cold, distant ruler of a dying realm.
You looked at Dream's retreating form and you saw it too, for the first time in a century, you saw the coldness that Dream showed the rest of the world. You had hoped that your years together in captivity, and the love that had seemingly grown between you, would form an everlasting bond between the two of you. It seemed, at least from your view, that perhaps you had misjudged the dream lord, and a deep sadness settled into your soul, unlike any you had yet faced.
Dream seemed to forget about you as he went about trying to collect his tools so he could return to his former strength and rebuild his realm.
The more effort he put into his search, the more distant he became. Until a time in which you decided that you could not live this way, a mere shadow of the past living in a cold, unwelcoming present. So you left The Dreaming, returning once again to the waking world, in search of the hope you had once found in the lord of dreams.
Dream noticed your absence immediately and sought Lucienne for explanation. "Where is she?" he asked when he found the librarian conducting her census.
"Where is who, my lord?"
Lucienne was surprised at the tone of hurt in her master's voice as he spoke your name. "Well, my lord, I believe she returned to the waking world."
"Why? Is The Dreaming not to her liking? I am doing my best to restore it, but I do not have my ruby as of yet and I feel I cannot complete my tasks until I have it."
"No, my lord, it is not The Dreaming she took issue with."
Dream looked confused and he shook his head passionately. "Then what could have possibly driven her away?"
Lucienne was quiet, afraid to upset her master further.
"Please, Lucienne, if you know something, speak."
"Sir, you have been very busy, both with the rebuilding of the kingdom and the search for your tools." She paused. "Perhaps you have been a bit too busy."
His look was pure annoyance...the audacity of her to think that he would have ever forgotten about you... Realization dawned on his face and his expression softened tremendously. "I have neglected her in my haste to repair the damage caused by my absence."
Lucienne nodded slowly, allowing Dream to come to his own conclusions.
"She was by my side through every moment of the last century, every painful part of it, she was there like a guiding light, the brightest soul I have ever encountered. How could I have let her feel this way? As if she is unimportant to me."
Lucienne knew better than to answer his question. It was not really meant for her anyway. "Perhaps, my lord, you should seek her out in the waking world?"
He knew the search for his ruby should take priority, but his heart ached at your absence. He did not wish to return to a realm without you in it, regardless of the presence of all his tools. "I believe you are right, Lucienne. I must find her."
Lucienne was slightly surprised that he admitted she was right, but she could not help but feel joy that he wished to seek you out.
"Can you, I mean, in my absence will you--?" Dream could not seem to find the words he wanted.
Lucienne smiled. "Of course, my lord."
He knew she would understand, as she always did. He pulled a small handful of sand from his pouch and disappeared into the waking world, desperate to find the hope he had lost.
It felt good to be in the waking world, to be free to do whatever you wished. You loved the way the sunlight felt against your skin, the breeze in your hair...all the things you had missed in your century of captivity. None of it, however, could fill the emptiness in your heart, emptiness only a certain Endless could fill.
You were sitting on a park bench, enjoying the beautiful summer day, when you noticed someone sit down beside you. You did not need to turn your head to know who it was. "Teleute," you said warmly. "It has been far too long."
"Indeed it has. How are you, (Y/N)?"
You turned to look at your friend, her expression telling you she knew exactly how you were doing. "I spent the last century in captivity, Death. How do you think I am?"
Death winced at your tone and you sighed, feeling bad for snapping at her. She did not deserve such venom...she was not the Endless you were upset with. "My apologies, Teleute."
Death waved off your apology. "Unnecessary. I understand why you would be upset. You have every right to be."
"In all honesty, it is not the captivity that has me in this mood."
"Ahh," Death said as she sat back against the bench. "The moodiest of all the Endless got to you too?"
Your head whipped towards her, surprise evident in your expression. "Excuse me?"
Death smiled. "My dear brother, Dream. I assume he is the cause of your mood?"
"How do you know...?"
"Oh, please, (Y/N). You should know by now...I know everything."
You shook your head. "I think that is unlikely, Teleute, even for you. You know, Burgess was looking for you when he captured us."
Death nodded, looking somewhat uncomfortable. "I know."
"I will not ask you why you did not help us. I think that is something I already know. I also understand why Burgess was able to capture Dream, but why me? What did I have to do with it? I'm not an Endless."
"It is nothing more than a theory, but I believe that is entirely my fault. When I saved your life, granted you immortality, I left a piece of my soul with you. That small piece of me lives within you, and I believe is what caused you to be snared by his spell."
You allowed yourself a moment to absorb her words. Her theory made sense, but it did not provide you much comfort. "100 years is a long time, even for an immortal," you began softly. "I cannot even begin to imagine how terrible it would have been to spend those years alone. While I would give anything for Dream to have never experienced such agony, I am glad to have been there with him."
Death laid her hand on yours. "I am sure he feels the same way."
You gave her a look that clearly voiced your disagreement. "If he felt the same way, do you think I would be moping on this park bench in the middle of London?"
Death chuckled. "My brother is moody at the best of times, and downright sullen at the worst. It may take him a moment or two to realize he cannot be that way with you, but I do think he will come to that realization. You are good for him, and I think, perhaps, he could be good for you." As if sensing something, Death stood suddenly. "I must go, (Y/N)."
You stood and gave her a hug. "Do not be a stranger, Teleute."
"Never," she said with a smile. "Do not give up on him. He is a pain in the behind, but his love is worth it. I promise." With that, Death disappeared as if she had never been there at all.
You sat back down on the bench, mulling over your friend's words. You desperately wanted to believe her, but if she was right, then where was Dream now?
As if you had personally summoned him, the dream lord himself appeared on the bench beside you, jolting you out of your thoughts. "Good lord!" you yelped.
He winced. "My apologies, I did not intend to startle you."
"Well then do not magically appear beside people without warning, Dream." You placed a hand over your heart and slowly calmed your breathing. "If I were a mortal, you could have given me a heart attack."
"Thankfully, you are not."
You turned to look at him and were surprised to find a sadness in his eyes. A sadness that mimicked your own. "How did you find me?"
He raised his eyebrows. "Do you truly think there is anywhere you could go where I would not feel you?"
Your lips parted in surprise and words failed you. "I--uh--well, I--"
He turned his body to face you, tentatively reaching out to take your hand in his. "I wish to know why you left."
"You were a bit preoccupied with more important things than me, Dream."
"Nothing is more important than you. Not me, nor my tools, nor even my realm. You are the part of me I have always sought, without even realizing it. You are the light to my darkness, the other half of my soul that I have yearned for throughout all of space and time. You are the hope that saved me in the darkest moments of my life, and for that I will treasure you always."
If you had a hard time speaking before, you were completely mute now, as if words were utterly foreign to you. You simply stared at the man in front of you in stunned silence. A silence so long, he began to worry.
"(Y/N)?" he asked softly. "Have I upset you?"
"Gods, no," you said quickly, recovering from your moment of muteness. You took both of his hands in yours and gave them a loving squeeze. "You simply took me by surprise, Dream."
"Will you call me by my name?" he asked softly, eyes filled with hope.
You looked confused. "Is Dream not your name?"
"It is, but much in the way you know Death as Teleute, I wish you to know me by my name."
"What name would that be?"
"Morpheus," he replied.
"I should have known that," you said with a chuckle. "Morpheus. Hmm, I quite like it."
He blushed slightly. "Thank you. I enjoy hearing you say it."
"Then I will have to remember to say it often," you paused dramatically before leaning forward and whispering, "Morpheus."
His body sundered involuntarily and you grinned. He gave you a warning look, but you were much too happy to care.
"May I ask you something?" he asked suddenly.
"Is there any way, any world, any universe, in which you might feel the same?"
If Morpheus did not know you, you would worry he might think you were a bumbling idiot. You were once again stunned to silence by the dream lord's words...as if there was a universe in which you did not feel the same.
"First, stop saying things that render me speechless," you insisted. "Second, do you really need to ask? I would walk through Hellfire for you, Morpheus. There is not a battle I would not fight, nor a danger I would not face, if it meant protecting you. You are my heart, in every meaning of the word."
Now it was his turn to be speechless. Though he was much quicker to recover than you. "I am undeserving of such adoration, beloved, but I shall do everything in my power to earn it."
You smiled and gently touched his cheek. "You already have, my love. You already have."
Summary: you and your husband go to the pumpkin patch with his family and yours.
Pairing: Chris Evans x Shy!Reader
“I’m thinking we get two pumpkins this year. One for me and one for you,” Chris said holding your door open for you. “Or we just get a fat one.”
“No,” you said sliding out.
Chris closed the door once you stepped out of the way. He locked the car and then grasped your manicured hand.
“No? You don’t want a big fat one?” he asked as the two of you walked in between his car and some guy’s car.
“No, I want to get more than one pumpkin,” you said as you both headed towards the entrance of the pumpkin patch.
“Why? It’s just us two,” Chris said. “Unless…”
He narrowed his eyes and to your sweater covered stomach. He’d love to see a prominent bump on you and have you waddle beside him.
“It’s just waffles, Christopher,” you said.
“Hmmm, I might have to change that,” your husband said.
“Yeah, hopefully, it’ll be a caramel apple,” you said.
Chris chuckled pulling you into his right side and kissing the side of your head. Your arm goes around his waist and you looked at him as the two of you continued to head to the front. Chris wasn’t so lucky on finding a close parking spot.
“We still need more than one pumpkin,” you said.
“Why?” Chris asked.
“‘Cause I wanna make pumpkin bread and pumpkin pie with fresh pumpkins,” you said.
“Well, shit. I’ll buy the whole fucking farm,” your husband said.
“That’d be too much work,” you giggled.
“I’d pay people to work for me. That’s what a rich man does, Y/n,” he said.
You giggled and asked, “what else does a rich man do?”
“Spoil his wife and makes sure that she has however many pumpkins to make pumpkin bread and pumpkin pie,” Chris said. “So she can make him fat.”
“I do like you a bit softer,” you smiled.
“Hmmm, good to know, Pumpkin,” he said.
The two of you finally made it to the entrance where your parents are waiting with your brothers and their families. You both happily greeted your parents.
“When are we gonna see a baby with the two of you?” Your mother asked.
“I don’t know. He’s probably shooting blanks,” you just said without thinking.
The air went silent. You could hear a twig break. Your husband’s head snapped in your direction. Your hands slapped over your mouth and you went wide eyed. Your brothers snorted and bursted out laughing with your dad. You fucking bolted it into the farm and Chris chased after you. No way in hell is he letting you get away after saying that shit.
You squeaked when your husband yanked you back against him. His arms went around you and locked you against him. Your arms are trapped against your chest.
“I-I’m sorry,” you said as can’t help but giggle.
“Just you wait and see in nine months,” Chris whispered.
“Why?” you asked.
Chris spun you around and looked at you to see if you’re serious.
“Wait, why nine months?” you asked. “—oh, never mind. I’m an idiot.”
Chris chuckled. You laughed with him a bit. He kissed you.
“You aren’t an idiot. You’re just a bit clueless,” your husband said.
“Yeah— hey!” You said.
You swatted his bicep and he just laughed. He pulled you in. He hugged you and you looked at him.
“Let’s get you some pumpkins, Pumpkin,” Chris grinned.
Note: I have so many tests this week… ugh. It’s past midnight and I’ve been studying a decent amount so sorry if grammar is a little wonky I guess. I wanted to give Scaramouche some love.
Category: Angst or Fluff? (Idk-)
Warnings: Nothing I can think of
You were the only one who got to see him like this.
You were the only one that got to see the few tears that fell down his face, or hear the few small sniffles that escaped, even if he didn’t mean for them to.
Because you knew.
You knew that deep down, he truly wasn’t a hateful person, just a broken person whose life was pointed in the wrong direction.
It had taken you so long to get into the depths of his heart, to see the true him, the sides of him that people could only dream of seeing, but you couldn’t help but regret it to an extent.
Seeing him like this was heart wrenching.
After months, possibly even years, you had finally broken down the thick wall that he had built around himself so sturdily.
But a part of you wished you never had.
You wanted to be there for him, but the way his tears drenched your clothing and his hand gripped onto you made you think otherwise.
You hurt for him.
And yet, after all he’s been through, could you really abandon him? Could you really back out, even if out of fear, after he had been through so much?
And so you stayed, despite the tears pricking in your own eyes.
You hugged him tight as his hands balled into tight fists around your clothing, his trembling body left open and vulnerable right in front of you on your chest. Your hands absentmindedly caressed his hair, attempting to soothe any part of him you could, and you muttered softly next to his ear, carefully telling him that he was okay.
His knees had given out not too long ago, planted deep into the hard wood floor as you sat in front of him. The room was dark and cold, echoing with the sounds of despair.
You stared into the distance, voice still soft and comforting, yet eyes filled with sorrow.
“You’re okay,” you whispered. Over and over again, you desperately said it, hoping to heal some part of him with just your words, even if your voice slightly cracked.
“I promise, you’re okay. I won’t leave you.” His grip seemed to tighten at that, as if almost not believing it, trying to keep you grounded. Your voice softened even further. “I’m right here.”
Your heart withered slightly as he continued to bury himself into you, refusing to let you go anytime soon.
You moved slightly, positioning yourself to sit against a nearby wall, and leaned back, pulling him closer as you let your head hit the hard surface behind you. You continued to comfort him, hands and voice soothing as if second nature.
Eventually, the mental exhaustion must’ve gotten to him. He had passed out in your arms, soft breathing evident.
You had never seen him so calm.
He had nestled himself deeper into your grasp, arms now softly wrapped around your waist as he rested his head on your chest.
It felt so… strange.
And you weren’t quite sure if you liked it or not.
Prompt: Austin books you two lovebirds a romantic getaway in a cozy cabin. You revel in each others company, and clothes will definitely be left on the floor by the end of the night.
Rating: Mature, 18+. Minors i'm sorry but this ain't for you!
Warnings: fluff (there's so much fluff in here you could make PB&Fluff sammies), smut, swearing, oral (f receiving)
Word Count: 9.2k
a/n: Hey beautiful people! This is my second Austin oneshot, and i wanted this one to be different than my first. Since it's autumn and it's my favorite time of year, i wanted to explore what it would be like for Y/N and Austin to spend some sickeningly sweet romantic time together. The smut will be smutty (obviously) but it's more on the tender love making side of smut. So if that's your cup of tea then read more! (and also it's nearly 4am as i post this and i cant look at it anymore Lol. so here you go!)
extra: a song for the vibes
It was a gorgeous autumnal day in the best month of the year, October. There was something about New York in the fall season that made your heart soar. But you didn't have to look too far to see the remembrances of why. The leaves on the trees have fully morphed into their warm hues of red, orange, and yellow. That crisp cool air was refreshing, and made you clutch at your scarf a little tighter. The spicy effervescent of cinnamon made your mouth water. It was simply spectacular.
Life couldn't be any more picture perfect even if you tried. Somehow your vivid fantasies that are allocated to your dreams have bled their way into reality, causing you to sigh in delight.
After you allowed your mind to wander for a few minutes you slowly shift your focus back into your body. Here you were, driving down a winding country road with your amazing boyfriend Austin Butler at the wheel of your 1970s Jeep Grand Wagoneer.
It wasn't all that often that you and Austin are able to get away on vacations, what with his very busy schedule keeping him away from you for much longer than you'd like to be okay with. But, you support him wholeheartedly with his acting career. Eventually when he was done with his projects and you two were back into each others arms the distance faded away like an afterthought in the breeze. The cheesy phrase definitely was true - your hearts had grown fonder the longer the miles that separate you two encroached the sanctity of your relationship.
The filming of his upcoming film Dune 2 had just wrapped up in Budapest, and when he came back home to your shared Manhattan loft he swept you into a warm embrace and surprised you with a perfect getaway vacation in a cozy cabin upstate, far away from the prying eyes of the general public and the vultures that are the paparazzi. No particular reason was given for this dream vacation other than he wanted to pamper you properly like you deserved to be.
He was so cute with how he planned this whole thing. He wanted it to be as romantic as ever, and he scrutinized over every detail - obviously. The Cabin he had actually got a good offer on from one of his friends, and he rented it out for an entire week. Of course he refused to tell you how much he paid out of pocket for it, but a knot churns in your stomach at even the slightest thought of Austin shelling out big money on you. It never is an easy thing to get used to when he spends his hard earned dollars on your behalf. But he saves his paychecks for these specific reasons. Why would he not treat his girl? Nothing is to expensive for you.
The second detail of this vacation was the Wagoneer, which he was honestly even more excited about securing than the cabin. He somehow managed to find this car, again for an assumed price that leaves a rather large lump in your throat, that he purchased just for this week. There was obviously no need for a car in the bustle of the city, and parking was astronomically high as it was. So this one time purchase was the very first in your relationship where he went all out for a vehicle for the two of you to keep.
You had to admit, it was very sentimental that he splurged on you. The cabin and this car was like something out of a vintage travel guide magazine for the most aesthetically gorgeous autumn destination holiday ever.
The Wagoneer was a vintage cream color with contrasting wood panels. It came complete with crank windows, weathered black leather seats that were still comfortable enough, and the dashboard was accented simply with beautiful radio that Austin had dialed in to a local soft rock station. Van Morrison's "Brown Eyed Girl" was filtering through the old car speakers and gave you both a soundtrack to your wonderful journey.
You felt the car jolt as Austin shifted gears with the clutch to gain speed as you drove around a wide bend. As his large hand flexed over the gear shift and settled back on the steering wheel you couldn't help but ogle at him like he was your most cherished possession.
He looked positively exquisite as he effortlessly drove the classy motor through large piles of fallen leaves that crunched under the cars tires. You took in the full sight of him, totally unashamed that you were full on staring at him.
Austin was wearing a cream cable knit sweater underneath one of his vintage black leather jackets he picked up at a consignment store in the lower east side, and his long legs were clad in stiff blue jeans that he wore all the time and suited his frame deliciously. On his feet were broken in combat boots that looked like they've been through hell and back, but he was not one to throw things away just because they didn't look pristine. His sandy blonde hair was tousled back off of his face and held in place by his favorite pair of aviators that were placed atop his head. He was scrumptious, and sometimes you had to pinch yourself to make sure this wasn't some kind of wonderful dream - that here you were, dating the most beautiful man you had ever seen in your life, and he was whisking you away to be wined and dined. Men wanted to be him and jealous omen wanted to be in your shoes. If it was a dream, you certainly didn't want to rouse from slumber.
Out of his peripheral vision, Austin felt the heat of your stare on him from the passenger seat and chuckled.
"You know Y/N, haven't you heard the age old saying that it's rude to stare?" He bemused playfully, not at all intending to be harsh with his comment. He just enjoys riling you up.
"Nope, I must have missed that lesson in school." You retorted with sarcasm.
"Well, instead of eye-fucking me from the sidelines you should take a picture because, as another ancient saying goes, it'll last longer." He quipped back, dripping with just as much sass in equal measure.
"Okay Butler, maybe I will..." Fully playing his bluff, you meander through your purse that's sitting on your lap and pull out your phone.
He momentarily glanced down at the phone in your hands but kept his focus back on the road, biting his lip and stifling a laugh that wanted to come out.
"Smile baby, give me one of your many sexy model poses." You hold the phone up, maneuvering the lens to get the perfect angle to compose your shot. Since Austin was a photographer and he took that hobby very seriously, he taught you a thing or two about how to take the best pictures. And now it was coming round to bite him in the ass.
"You're fucking crazy you know that?" Austin shook his head in amusement.
"Don't be shy now Aus, let me see that smolder you know I love so much." You teased.
He gripped the steering wheel firmer in his hands as his vision was transfixed on the desolate road ahead of him. He had let you coax him into this back and forth play of flirtation until he sighed and relented into your request.
Austin made sure that there wasn't any oncoming obstacles in the road before he took his eyes off the pathway and gave his signature sultry stare down the lens of your camera. His eyes narrowed slightly and his lips curled upwards into a thin coy smile that spread across his handsome face. He was a pro at turning on the charm for the cameras when needed for his job, even though he was shy and clammed up when getting his picture taken. But with you, he would let his walls down and it was easier for him to get comfortable.
Your thighs clenched together as you felt a zing of pleasure roll through your body like you were hit by a bolt of lighting. How he managed to turn you on with just this simple pose was utterly beguiling. You gained enough composure to steady your shaking hands and take the picture. If you were on social media this would definitely be the shot that would garner thousands of likes and heart eye emojis from Austin's fans. But it was more than enough that the picture would be allocated to your screen saver and kept in your personal collection of physical photo albums. And that's the way you and Austin both liked it.
After the camera made it's shutter noise alerting him that the picture had been captured, Austin's face effortlessly switched back into his normal demeanor and gave you a crooked wink before giving his full attention back to driving.
"Satisfied, baby?" He asked sweetly.
"Always, Aus. Thank you." You spoke demurely.
"You're welcome." He replied affectionately, smiling warmly.
You weren't sure how many minutes had past since taking Austin's picture. It was just so easy to lose track of time when you're in his presence. Not every moment had to be filled with conversation between the two of you. Nothing gave you ultimate peace in your soul like being in his delightful company. You hadn't even noticed that the radio station was now playing America's "Ventura Highway" until you heard Austin's raspy voice break the silence.
"If i'm not mistaken, I'm pretty sure where we wanna be is right around the corner."
Sure enough, he was right. You perch yourself a little higher in your seat, leaning forward and peering out the windshield to get a better view of what was to come. This cabin was literally in the middle of no-man's-land. Pine trees were condensed so tightly together that you couldn't even see anymore than a few yards in either direction. The narrow gravel road you were travelling on curved one final bend, and then you saw it in all it's glory - Yours and Austin's cabin.
The sight before you was like something out of one of your childhood fables. You weren't even aware that you were holding your breath until the strong smell of granny smith apples had wafted through your nose. This was ethereal. The cabin was quaint. It had a wrap around porch that lead out to a walking trail down through the other side of the woods. The shingles on the roof bounced back the sunlight, and the large chimney was just waiting to be used for a toasty fire.
Austin slowed the car to a gentle rolling stop and put it in park, turning off the ignition. Finally your week long romantic vacation could begin.
He flashed you an excited knowing smile before he got out of the car, sauntering over to your side of the vehicle and opening the door for you. As he swung open your passenger door he offered you his hand to help escort you out. You gave him a peck on the cheek as a non-verbal thank you.
"Here we are, honey. Home sweet home. What do you think of the place so far?"
Words had failed you. You couldn't even respond right away, you were still trying to soak it all in. Truly tou've never seen anything like this in person. It was a picture perfect dreamscape come to life before your eyes.
"Austin this is...wow." You sighed dreamily.
"I did good, huh?" He asked, satisfied at your inability to answer. Of course he knew he did good, he planned the whole thing. He just wanted to hear your praise. Though, leaving you speechless was one of his many talents.
Austin walked around to the trunk and turned the key to unlock it, gathering both of your suitcases and placing them on the ground.
"You did very good." You finally replied.
"That's what I like to hear." He cooed. You help him carry your belongings as you both walk up a flight of stairs that brings you right to the front entrance. Austin settles his bags on the floor and rifles through his pants pocket for the keys to unlock the large burgundy door.
No word of a lie, as soon as he pushed the door open you nearly felt the wind get nocked out of you. Okay seriously...this place is amazing. The layout of the house was open concept, so you had a nice view of the living room and kitchen from the foyer. Whoever owned this place really knows about interior decorating, that's for sure.
There were large windows framing the perimeter that made the place look even bigger. Rays of sunshine cascaded over the expensive furniture that you were a little scared to touch. In the living room you took note of the massive black leather couch that was perched in front of an even larger tv. Off to the side was where you took notice of the antique fireplace that was already set with fresh firewood for your convenience. Glass chandeliers hung in the middle of the living room and one over the imposing rustic dining table off to the opposite side of the room that were dimly lit, the crystals twinkling as they gently swayed to and fro. And there were unused candles strewn about the place, sitting pretty in their candelabras.
Your attention then turned towards the expanse of the kitchen. There weren't a lot of modern appliances, which you assumed was to keep up with the vintage aesthetic. The fridge and cabinets were made of mahogany wood, and the linoleum floors were a nice accent. Enchanting didn't even begin to describe this place. Austin really did chose perfectly.
You stood there in a daze taking it all in as Austin brought in his bags and locked the front door shut behind you. No one in your life had ever done something this chivalrous for you. It almost was a little overwhelming actually being here. Throughout your relationship. Austin catered to you and showed you just how much he loved you. Doing something as simple as booking a getaway vacation sounds mundane to maybe the average person. But in this circumstance it only reminded you to never take anything for granted with him. You were going to soak up every single bit of this week long stay and commit it to memory.
Ever so slowly you felt Austin's long arms wrap around your waist from behind, pulling you back into his chest.
"I can't wait to devote all of my time and attention to you - to us - right here and now. We're gonna make some great memories in this place I just know it." He softly spoke against your ear. You hummed in contentment as he gently allowed his lips to caress your cheek.
You turned your face to the side and watched as his azure orbs glaze over with adoration. "Thank you for doing this, Aus. Really, this went above and beyond all of my expectations. I love you so much."
"I love you too, baby." The space between you shrank as his lips collided with yours in a tender dance of affection. Never in your life will you ever tire of the way his soft voluptuous mouth works over yours in harmony. Even the lightest of touches sends a chill down your spine.
Austin pulls away from your kiss and pecks your button nose. "Come on, i'll show you around.". He takes your hand in his and gives you a tour of the whole cabin.
As the sun sets over the lush hills and day fades into night, you and Austin have done your fair share of wandering around the cabin and relaxing on the couch. The rumbling in your stomachs was the obvious indication that you both needed food, and pronto. What delighted you about Austin was how much he loved being in the kitchen. This was a joint effort, and he wanted to offer his help in any way he could. Plus he was actually a superb cook.
Tonight you both settled on something totally simple yet hearty and classic - spaghetti with homemade sauce. You've spent years perfecting your sauce recipe that you know it down to a science, and Austin inserts his own elements from his experience in the kitchen to make this meal a special one. And to top if all off, once you've plated this meal for two, Austin pulls out a cabaret from the wine cupboard and poured each of you a full glass.
Before you could shove a fork full of the delicious pasta into your expecting mouth, Austin raises his glass and cradles your hand in his, proposing an impromptu toast.
He cleared his throat. "Cheers to the first of many fantastic vacations we'll have together. I'll always do right by you, Y/N. I'm constantly enamored by your beautiful womanly charms, and how you manage to put up with me being away so often. But this I swear to you baby - I will always make sure you're completely happy and satisfied like you deserve to be. You know I'm a man of my word, and my word is my bond."
A solitary tear nearly fell down your face at his lovely proclamation. But you managed to bite back the tickle in your throat that signified crying, and you raise your glass with him.
"Cheers to the beautiful life we're creating as one. I love you Austin to the moon and back. Salut."
Your glasses clink.
"Salut." Austin squeezes your hand as you both take a swig of your wine. The bite from the red is quite palpable, as you're not really one to like the stuff all that much. But this is a special occasion. You're celebrating the two of you embarking on this journey of devotion and unconditional love for each other in this crazy uncertain world. No doubt it's been an emotional whirlwind for you, having to deal with everything that comes with dating a famous actor in the limelight. But you know you're protected by Austin's commitment to bring you into the fold and simultaneously shield you from the scrutiny of voyeurs.
A comfortable silence falls over you both as the sounds of clanking forks and knives scrape against the ceramic plates.
After a few minutes, Austin speaks in his delicious low baritone register. "I meant what I said, you know. I really do hope that I make you happy. I know its not always the ideal situation to not spend a lot of time together like we want, but I'll always strive to meet your needs in whatever way I can."
Your brow furrows, concerned about where this moment of insecurity is coming from. It endeared you even more to Austin that he was open with you about what he was thinking and feeling. Your fork rests on the plate and you place your delicate hand on his forearm. "I know, baby. You make me so happy, I hope you realize that. Yeah it's not exactly like how we want it to be all of the time. But what we've cultivated means everything to me."
"It means everything to me as well. You're the best thing that's come into my life in...honestly I can't really remember the last time someone made me this happy." He exasperates, spilling his vulnerable heart to you.
"Well good that makes two of us." You smiled reassuringly.
Your heart thumped in your chest as Austin flashes you a million dollar grin. Picking up your hand from it's resting position on his arm, he kisses your knuckles sweetly. "God you're just everything a man could ever want."
"And you, Austin Robert Butler, are everything a woman could ever hope for and then some. You're perfect."
He tuts and bows his head shyly, an embarrassed flush rises to his chiseled cheeks. "I beg to differ but i'll the the compliment, baby." He peers up at you through his long lashes and kisses your hand again. For now you quelled his momentary bout of insecurity, and you feel proud that you were able to have that real conversation with him. He's only a man after all, he's not made of stone regardless of his celebrity status. His shy nature is one of the things you love about him.
The two of you savor your spaghetti dinner and clean up the kitchen before heading back into the living room. You weren't quite sure what the exact time was, but the chill in the air and the watercolor of the sunset in the sky was now fading into shades of navy. In the middle of the woods amongst nature you could see the twilight of the night sky so much clearer compared to the smog of Manhattan. It was simply exquisite.
As an autumn chill ran through your body, you remembered that there was an enticing wood burning stove just sitting there totally untouched. That had to be remedied. "I kind of want to give the fireplace a whirl, what do you think, Austin?"
"I think that's a great idea. Let's see what I can do here." He clasped his hands together nervously, his thinking cap was now officially put on as he figured out how to work the fireplace. All the gears in his head were spinning at once. He didn't want to let on that he's never lit a fire in an actual antique fireplace before. But he was going to try his damndest to figure it out, that's for sure. And it anything was certain, he was going to look cute doing it.
Austin got down to it's level and inspected the fireplace very carefully. A pang of anxiety swelled in his stomach. This can't be that complicated, but you were expectantly waiting for him to get this going which made him nervous. Not wanting to offset the romance by fiddling awkwardly with the fire, he motioned his head back towards your general direction.
"How's about I get a roaring fire going, and you can get settled for the night, baby. Sound good?"
Oh, this was actually perfect timing. While Austin was working on things here in the living room, you had other plans you wanted to attend to by yourself. Little did he know what you had up your sleeve for him this evening. A wicked grin spread across your face.
"Yeah, that sounds good to me! Um, before I go and...get settled...pick a color between red, black, and blue."
As Austin finally managed to get the process of lighting this fire, you saw him stop in his tracks at your puzzling question. He had no idea what you even meant by that, you totally caught him off guard. So, without thinking too hard about it, he simply replied "Red."
"Okay, red it is."
With a quick turn of your heels, you saunter off towards your shared master bedroom, leaving him just as confused without explaining yourself at all. But for what you had in mind, you didn't need to explain. Showing would suffice.
Walking around the edge of the bed, you pull out your suitcase and pop the top off to reveal your clothes still neatly packed in there. You honestly just didn't have the wherewithal to hang your clothes in the closet you were so caught up in the moment with Austin. Everything was probably wrinkled to oblivion. But what you were looking for didn't need to be hung up.
The answer to your question to Austin lied at the bottom of the bag. The contents of which are of the most scandalous quality. Within your hands you hold three beautiful lingerie sets - one red, one black, and one blue. Each set was different in their general cut and accessories, but the components were the same. The red one which he ambiguously chose features an all lace ensemble comprising of a balconette bra that lifted your perky breasts into beautiful mounds atop your chest, a pair of matching red lace panties that laid high on your hips in a way that compliments your curves. And then the final touch were sheer red stockings that held up on their own, high on your thighs.
You thanked your past self for buying this skimpy little number a while ago when you and Austin first started dating. Funny enough though, this was the first time you were going to wear it for him. He's seen you in plenty of other lingerie sets, but this one was special. It made you feel more like a sophisticated sexy woman rather than a demure sex kitten. If one thing was certain, his jaw was going to hit the floor the moment he sets his sights on you.
So you take your time in primping yourself and putting on the items with care to make sure you looked perfect. With a few fluffs of your hair and a sheer reapplication of your lipstick, you were ready. Its not or never. Butterflies filled the cavern of your stomach. This was the moment, there was no turning back.
With one final check in the full length mirror, you slowly swayed your hips as you floated on cloud 9 back into the living room. To your surprise Austin actually got the fire going like he said he would. The heat was definitely welcomed as you felt goosebumps rise on your flesh - partly due to the nerves you were feeling.
Your man was standing in the middle of the room, unaware of your presence, as he fiddled around with his phone as he connected his spotify to the cabin's bluetooth speakers. A little mood music never hurt anyone. He hummed in delight as he found the song he was looking for and pressed play. The sensual tenor of Otis Redding filled your ears.
These arms of mine, they are lonely
Lonely and feeling blue
If there was ever a right moment for him to notice you it would be now. You don't have any drink in hand to give you a bit of liquid courage, but you pull the strength from within you. Rolling your shoulders back and head hung high, you make the move.
"Austin..." you purred, beckoning him to look at you with your enchanting voice dripping with sex.
The look that Austin gave you when he finally turned around to catch your gaze was something you'll never forget. Seeing him already unraveling at just the sight of you was the ego boost of the century. His eyes nearly fell of out their sockets, and he swallowed a rather large lump that was forming in the back of his throat. His lips parted, quivering with a building need for you.
These arms of mine, they are yearning
Yearning from wanting you
"Holy shit Y/N..." His wandering eye traveled all the way from the top of your head, to your ample bust line, the small of your waist, your clothed core, and your long legs adorned in the most beautiful red stockings. He placed one of his hand over his heart to steady himself. A heart attack was impending, he just knew it.
With a bat of your fluttery lashes you make another bold move. "You chose right, Aus. I think red is my color." Placing one dainty foot in front of the other, you walk your way over to where he's standing, exaggerating the sway of your hips just a little as put on a show for his greedy eyes. The newfound confidence you have in yourself is exhilarating, and you were riding off the back of this wave as you strut over to Austin.
He did most of the work for you though. "I'll say..." He spoke huskily. With his long legs he closed the distance between you with a few brisk strides.
These arms of mine, they are burning
Burning from wanting you
In a flash, your bodies were pressed tantalizingly close together. The electricity vibrating between you two was intense. Now that you were right here with him looking down at you like he wants to swallow you whole, the reality of your flirtation sets in. A bright flush rises to your cheeks. It's the perfect accessory to your scantily clad figure.
"Hi." You said breathlessly, peering up at him with a suddenly shy demeanor.
"Hey." He replied barely above a whisper, licking his lips and swallowing to clear his salivating mouth. He was sure it was plain as day that he was literally drooling over you. It was obscene the way in which his body radiated such strong sexual desire. While he was a man that fell weak at the knees for his woman and would absolutely fuck you without hesitation on every conceivable surface in this cabin, the man before you was overcome with demure boyish intentions. He was just as shy in this moment as you were. Almost afraid to touch you for fear of you disappearing.
You both stood there, shaking with anticipation, not sure who should be the one to dare to make the next move. Even though you've been with Austin for so long, in this moment it felt like the first time. Two young lovers being in each others company, both nervous for the night ahead of them, unsure of what to say or do. But you fumble your way into each others arms nonetheless.
Your hand seemed to have a mind of it's own as it rests gently on Austin's chest, feeling him rise and fall with shallow breaths under the soft wool of his sweater. And he returned the touch by wrapping one of his hands around your waist, drawing you closer to his personal sphere, and his other hand went to cradle your face. The intoxicating aroma of his cologne mixed with his pheromones drove you wild, and you shook harder under his embrace. Austin's eyes darted between the desire behind your eyes and full pout of your lips, which were succulent and begging for his attention.
Come on, come on, baby
Just be my little woman
Just be my lover
As you planted yourself in front of his tall stature you took all of him in. The warm contrast of the fire beside you set a cast of golden shadows across his face, making his blonde waves sparkle and his tanned skin radiate a soft honey tone. His half-lidded ocean eyes stirred into a stormy whirlpool of eagerness dripped with intense lust.
Like a moth to a flame, you slowly allow your lips to be drawn to his, and his to yours, in a losing battle of self control over the powerful magnetism you shared for each other. This first meeting of your mouths was not a hungry one, but rather it was gentle and exploratory. Almost as if all previous sexual experiences had gone out the window and you had to re-learn the motions of one another's natural current.
Hot breaths passed between your lips as you moved together, pressing feather light kisses upon each other. The racing of your heartbeat was increasing tenfold as the adrenaline was coursing through your veins. You needed him all at once or not at all. His thumb rubbed tiny circles on your cheek as the tenacity in which he kissed your pliable lips hastened.
The tips of your toes stood to attention on the hardwood floor as you craned your body upwards to sink even further into him. The warmth from his strong arm around your waist pressed you closer to his body.
He gruffly rumbled into your mouth, his tongue reaching out to part your lips and deepening the kiss even further. And you happily let him inside without thinking twice. His wet muscle danced effortlessly against you, your tongues rolling in tandem for assured dominance. Needing more of him, your hand found purchase in his sandy locks as your deft fingers clutched onto his silky strands. And the other hand found a home on his toned bicep, firmly gripping onto him for dear life as he flexed beneath you. The realization of how wet you are for him hits you like a freight train, and through his jeans you can feel the formation of his hardened erection press into your lower stomach.
Austin knows you well and he can sense the arousal oozing from your pores. He wasn't sure where the final destination for tonight was going to be, but his feet moved from under him as he walked you backwards into the nearest possibility - the leather sofa. The cool fabric stuck to the backs of your thighs as he leaned forward and sat you down gently on the side of the steady armrest.
Reluctantly, he pulled away from your addictive mouth - but he soon enough replaced his lips on your jawline, leaving a wet trail of kisses down your delicate neck. From this new position you wrapped your legs around his hips, pulling him closer to where you needed him.
"Austin..." You sighed at the feel of his plush mouth sucking and licking at your neck. His skillful lips trailed their way down your collarbone as his long fingers slipped underneath the straps of your bra and pushed them down the slope of your shoulders.
"Y/N..." Austin hoarsely moaned. As he strained down to keep planting kisses on your goosepimpled flesh, he adjusted himself to a much more comfortable position with one knee planted on the ground . This gave him easy access to explore every single inch of your gorgeous physique in whatever way he saw fit. Your legs unraveled from his hips, instead falling either side of his shoulders, spreading them wide and revealing your soaked lace core to his hungry eyes.
All the synapses in your brain were firing frantically. You had Austin ensnared in like an enchantress, he was literally on his knees for you completely at your every command. The power was thrilling.
"Tell me what you want, baby." Austin cooed from below. His hands stroked the smooth silk of your stockings wrapped around your calves. The tender sensation sent a pool of wetness gushing out from your hot core, trapped by the restrictions of your panties. But you couldn't hide that from him, he was dangerously close to your pussy and he licked his lips in instinctual preparation for taking care of you.
As much as you craved for him to take you right here and now, you weren't sure if the side of the couch was the most practical spot. You have to stifle the moan that wanted to escape your lips at the sight of your man on the floor waiting for your order. It took a hell of a lot of strength to not give into him.
"How about maybe we move over there first?" Your gestured over to a wide open space on the floor in front of the fireplace. That sounded romantic and he seemed to mirror your sentiments, smiling brightly up at you.
"Your wish is my command, darlin'." Austin rose from his feet, planting a chaste kiss on your lips before he moved over to the fireplace.
The cogs in his brain were kicking into high gear yet again, as he thought about how to make this as comfortable for the both of you as possible. Being sore from a romp in the sheets was par for the course, but not from something as silly as fucking on the hardwood floors with no cushion.
He snapped his fingers as a bright idea overtook him. Turning his attention back to the sofa, he scooped up a couple of random cushions and plopped them at the floor beneath his feet. And finally, he grabbed the heavy throw blanket that looked cozy and spread it out, creating a make-shift bed that will do just fine for tonight's rendezvous. He crouched down and made sure to fluff the cushions as best he could in preparation for your head to lay. You must admit, this looked so inviting.
When he was finally satisfied with his handiwork, Austin stood back up and proudly displayed his hands on his hips. "And, voila. What my lady wants, my lady gets."
You crinkled your nose adorably. "That's even better than what I imagined in my head."
He giggled. "Well, I do aim to please," Austin might have been momentarily distracted, but he could no longer ignore his cock straining through his jeans. From where you were sitting you could see the imposing member begging for release from it's denim prison.
He took note of your obvious staring and drew his bottom lip into his mouth. "Now, where were we?" Seduction dripped from his vocal chords.
Two broad steps was all it took for Austin to make his way back to you. With one arm around your waist and the other snaking underneath your legs, he cradled you as he gently lifted you into his arms. In one smooth motion like he's done this hundreds of times before, he knelt down and gingerly lowered you onto the blanket, making sure your head was comfortably in place on the cushions that he lovingly fixed for you.
Austin rested his hands on his knee as he just simply looked at you, his goddess reincarnate, batting your long lashes at him innocently. Oxygen depleted his lungs as he sat there, mouth agape and turned on as all hell at the vision of you. It was in pauses like these where the reality of his unconditional love for you was accented tenfold.
You faintly uttered, "C'mere," as you reached out your hands, beckoning him to join you. He didn't need to be persuaded any further. With a coy grin, he nested himself on top of you as your legs opened for him, inviting his body to melt with yours once more.
His soft lips were back on yours, but this time he wasn't delicate about it. Immediately his tongue was back home in your mouth, dancing inside of you with every swipe. While his lips were occupied he let his hand roam your supple curves - groping and kneading at your breasts that he expertly removed from your bra. He sure was sly because you don't recall him unclasping it behind you. Tossing the garment off to the side without a care, he took his salivating lips and dragged them back down your neck.
The warmth of his breath against your sensitive nipples made you gasp. Once he took your pert bud into his mouth your eyes rolled back into your head so far you thought you may lose sight.
"Austin," You moaned, egging him on. The pleasure he was lavishing on your breasts sent a shockwave directly to your clit, throbbing strongly for him in every conceivable way. Your greedy hands clutched the hem of his sweater, signaling to him that it had to go.
Releasing your nipple with a wet plop, he sat up on his knees and pulled the sweater over his head and threw it into the abyss to keep company with your bra. In this lighting by the fire, Austin looked like a work of fine art. The contours of his toned chest and abs glistened with a thin layer of sweat that were calling for your touch. And you obliged, letting your fingertips trace over each and every curvature of his chest.
Austin smiled sweetly as he let you map out every single muscle your hands could conceivably reach. These kinds of things would usually make him shrink away into his shell, shy to the ogling of others at his body. But with you it was different. He took pride in how viscerally attracted you were to him, in an almost carnal way. Like you needed to touch him to make sure this wasn't all a beautiful dream.
Grasping your hands in his, he places barely there kisses on each of them and crept his way inch by inch down further on your hourglass figure. Your stomach was peppered with wet licks and nibbles, driving you crazy as he neared the one place you craved him to be.
But alas, he was determined to keep you on edge just a little bit longer. He purposefully skipped over your sopping wet desire and made his way to your thighs. The secure straps that were holding your stockings to your thighs snapped back against you roughly as he toyed with the fabric, testing their durability.
"As much as I want these on you, they're unfortunately in my way. We can't have that, now can we?" He asked half rhetorical and half expecting you to answer, if you could even muster a response. All you could manage was a shaking 'no' of your head.
"Hmm, that's what I thought." Never daring to break eye contact with you, he caught hold of your stockings and rolled them off your feet. With one leg free, he kept on teasing you like it was his job. He started at your ankle, his velvet lips making contact with the newly exposed skin. Soon enough he doted your calf, your knee, and up the soft flesh of your inner thigh. This was enough to send you careening over the edge, you threw your head back and let out an exasperated moan. He was so close yet so far and he was thoroughly enjoying making a full meal of you.
With both stockings now out of his way, he repeated the same movements on your other leg, still never looking away from your yearning doe eyes that were screaming for him.
"Aus, please stop teasing me." You whined.
Austin chuckled against your thigh. "Someone is eager." You nearly yelped when he tauntingly nipped gently at your thigh. You swear if he kept this up and denied you what you really wanted you would evaporate right here and now. You rose your hips off of the floor and into his face in a not so subtle hint to direct his attention where you wanted.
His tongue licked over the bite mark he left behind on your thigh. "I know baby, I just like taking my time with you."
At this point he couldn't even deny himself the joys of your pussy any longer. In one swoop he hooked his fingers into the waistband of your panties and quickly discarded them into the clothes heap.
Here you were, now fully exposed and waiting wantonly for Austin's next move. He couldn't help but groan lowly as he gazed at your swollen flushed pussy, dripping all for him. His cock bobbed in his jeans at the sight, but he would ignore his primal urges to take care of the ache in his pants to be the gentleman and satisfy you - like always. His mouth was watering to taste you.
"You are so fucking beautiful, baby." He expressed sincerely.
It was your turn now to get shy, as you covered your face in your hands to hide the tinge of rose to your cheeks. But he was quick, he batted them away.
He tisked at your actions. "I'll have none of that. I want you to look at me as I eat your pussy."
A strangled moan crept past your lips at his command. You knew you'd be a goner if you were forced to watch him go down on you, but you had to oblige him. How could you not? He was so fucking hot when he took what was his.
The orbs of his azure iris's were totally blown out. The storm that once befell them minutes ago were black, glossed over with desire. And now that he's made himself clear what his intentions were, there was no stopping him.
Your soul nearly left your body when you felt the very first broad stroke of his tongue lap against your folds. An ungodly, desperate groan fell from your lips and reverberated off the walls and into Austin's ears as he took his time in devouring you.
Your juices covered his strong muscle as he licked at your wetness, parting your lips even further for him to explore. He moaned at the sweet taste of you, never breaking eye contact as he wrapped his lips around your pussy.
"Fuck, Aus..." You choked out.
He spread your legs wider with his large hands dominating your thighs, forcing them even more to the side so he could have as much access to your glistening folds as possible. The grit of his 5 o'clock shadow rubbed against your skin, making you hiss at the burning sensation that felt so goddamn good.
Your pussy was being ravaged with long swipes of his tongue, setting a steady pace that made you rock yourself onto his face. And just when you thought you couldn't get enough, he ghosted the very tip of his tongue over your severely aching clit. You nearly closed your eyes as you moaned loudly at the sensation, but you were a good girl and you made sure to keep eye contact like he asked for.
Your hands flew to his blonde tendrils, drawing him further into your pussy for more amazing friction. Groaning against you core, he went back down to your sopping hole and brought along a trail of your wetness and his saliva back to your clit.
He masterfully flicked your sensitive bud until there were tears in your eyes. The overstimulation will be the beautiful death of you, and he knows this all too well. But he needed more of you. He was insatiable. He ate your pussy like it was his last meal on this Earth. If there was one thing he could do for the rest of his life, it would be his tongue buried deep in your needy cunt for all eternity.
"Yes baby, that feels so fucking good." You mewled, coaxing him on even more determined to get you to the apex of your release. Vibrations from his mouth as he moans into your juices added to the intense pleasure he was giving you.
His pace was unrelenting on you now. He ground your hips down harder on his face, working your pussy into a frenzy as his tongue worked hungry circles over your clit and lapped back down at your folds. He was breathing heavy with exertion, but he was nowhere near finished with you.
He brought one of his hands into the mix as it left your thigh. And with a husky growl he plunged two long fingers into your gushing pussy while he focused all his efforts with his tongue on your clit. Your walls clenched around his digits as he finger fucked you into sweet oblivion.
"Austin!" You screamed. As the pads of his fingers massaged your g-spot deep within you and your clit was getting assaulted by his mouth, your climax was reaching it's peak. You grasped even tighter to his hair and your toes curled as you bounced yourself back onto his fingers. With one last moan of his name you came hard and fast around him. You did so well with keeping your eyes open for him, but this orgasm rippled through your body so strongly that it overtook you and brought you to another dimension. You squeezed your eyes shut as your head lolled back roughly against the cushions, riding the wave of your release.
With one last swipe of your clit, Austin removed both his tongue and his fingers from your pussy. He admired how your slick coated them as he withdrew his digits from the vice grip of your walls, wanting him to stay there.
He looked positively fucked out of his mind with your juices running down his face as he rose from his laying position and hovered over you. He made sure you looked him square in the eye as he brought his fingers to his mouth, sucking them clean and savoring one last time the taste of your cunt.
No words were shared between you two, and no words would suffice in the heat of the moment. All that mattered now was freeing his strained member from his pants and having another part of his body back inside the confines of your warm pussy. And now.
In record time, he unzipped his jeans and pulled them down his legs along with his boxer briefs. All the blood rushed to the red tip of his thick cock where you saw a bead of precum drip into the floor beneath him. You got wet all over again just from the sight of him.
Quickly stepping out of both garments, he tossed them aside and made his way back to you, snugly climbing the expanse of your body. Still shaking from your powerful climax, you ground yourself back into reality by anchoring your jell-o legs around his sturdy hips for support.
He aligned himself with your entrance, leaving no time wasted as he slipped his cock between your slippery folds. You both moaned at the intrusion, absolutely sure that any signs of life in the general vicinity would definitely hear your combined cries of lust. But you didn't give a damn. You would scream to the high heavens and let the entire world know that Austin Butler was fucking you so good.
"So goddamn tight for me." He gritted through his clenched jaw as he relished in the way your walls squeezed around him.
He let you get accustomed to his girth for a brief moment before plunging himself further into you, filling you to the hilt.
"Oh fuck." You mewled, your nails dug roughly into his back as he snapped his hips and began his assault on your pussy. You clenched hard around his cock, drawing him even deeper inside.
Soon enough the sound of juices sloshing around him echoed loudly and drowned out any of the mood music that was playing over the loud speakers.
His bangs hung down his face and tickled your forehead as he steadily moved his dick in and out of your soft cunt. The slick from your last orgasm and new pools of desire enveloped him fully in the most delicious way.
"You take my cock so well baby. What a good girl you are for me." He moaned against your ear, his gravelly voice speaking these dirty things to you made your walls clamp down around him, earning you another sexy groan from his lips.
The heels of your feet pressed into his backside, encouraging him to fuck you deeper and harder. Who was he to not accept the invitation? He did you one even better. While he hastened his pace, snapping his hips feverishly against your core, he took one of your legs and threw it over his shoulder. The new angle made his massive cock plough into your pussy in ways you never thought he could. He was hitting every single aching spot inside you with expertise.
Your brow knitted together and your mouth hung open, your breath caught in your throat. Luckily you were flexible and could accommodate such positions with ease. Austin watched from above as he plunged his dick in and out of your cunt, your juices dripping down your thighs, and your tits bouncing right in his face as he fucked you into the stratosphere. He throbbed violently inside of you, sucking his bottom lip between his teeth as he focused intently on this heaven on earth.
"Aus, " You squealed, "I-I think i'm g-gonna..." you warned him, unable to say anymore.
He captured your lips in a rough kiss that was all tongue, you could taste the faint hint of your essence lingering in his mouth which was so erotic. That alone nearly sent you to the precipice. But Austin somehow fucked you even faster now, your pussy getting completely beaten up by his engorged cock. His repeated blows to your cervix had you bent backwards in ecstasy. You were so close to another earthshattering orgasm.
The rise of your voice, the quivering of your walls milking his cock, and urgency in your moans alerted him of your impending climax. If you came now he was done for. Which he was grateful for, as he too was dangerously close to spilling every ounce of hot cum inside of your pussy.
"That's it," He coaxed, "That's it, baby. Let go. Come for me." The ending of his command trailed off into a whisper as he was getting lost in the throws of passion.
Your lungs ballooned twice their size and propelled out of your body a blood curdling scream of the most divine nature as you crash-landed hard around him. You came just as hard this second time, and your entire body shivered as you rode through the tidal wave of your climax.
Austin wasn't far behind you. Each and every sloppy thrust sent him over the edge. The quivering of your walls milking him for everything he's got put him in a tailspin. Your pussy was hungrily drawing out his own orgasm, and his cock would give in.
"Fuck Y/N, I'm gonna c--". Before he can even finish, Austin roared as his come coated every inch of your walls, thickly. His hips thrashed with each and every spurt of his seed that skyrockets into your pussy, marking his territory.
You moaned a sweet sing-song of his name as you felt your insides fill with the warm sticky fluid. Your pussy gulped down every single drop he had to offer you.
He tried his hardest to not collapse on top of you and smother you to death with his body weight, but his arms were giving way. Neither of you wanted his dick to leave the comforting residence of your pussy. So you both remained there with his semi hard cock stuffed full to the hilt before he begrudgingly withdrew and rolled over next to you with a thud.
As you both laid there laboriously catching your breaths, the euphoria of your orgasms hit you and Austin at the same time. You shuddered and he followed suit. Was this real life?
"Goddamn." He roused softly. "That was..."
"Incredible." You finished his sentence for him, turning over on your side and slotting your body perfectly to his side.
He chuckled under his breath, lifting his tired arm and dangling it over the small of your back. "I was going to say ''fucking incredible'', but yeah."
You were both a sweaty pile of limbs on the floor, but you didn't care. He lifted your chin with his free hand up to his face and placed a gentle kiss on your lips. One of your legs wrapped around his side as you snuggle up closer to him.
The roaring fire beside you that once was is now a low tumbling flame, but it still managed to keep you both toasty in the aftermath of your marathon sexcapade. Austin brings one corner of the blanket up and over your bodies, lulling you into serene comfort in his embrace.
If this was just the start of your vacation, you couldn't wait for what was in store.
Note : i changed my writing style a little ╹▽╹ ...
Reblogs are appreciated (◍•ᴗ•◍)!
staying by his side seemed stressful for some people, his attitude was completely something else.
he seemed rude to others, always gets pissed off by little things
you were the quite opposite of him , people couldn't understand how you could deal with his personality
he himself couldn't understand why are you still by his side
he was always complaining and never helped you in anything but you still stayed beside him no matter what
even his mother abandoned him , his friends left him because they couldn't bear with the drama he causes daily
while you stayed
people were still surprised when you told them you were dating him
even though your relationship with him wasn't that touchy or romantic, you two didn't even kiss all because you thought he might be comfortable later
your relationship with him was a little tiring , if you would admit the Truth
whenever you two sit together he starts complaining about how much time you spend with others you would immediately apologize with a blank face
he always gets annoyed with your cold attitude too , he once caught a group of bullies trying to start a fight with you while you apologized and tried to end the fight before it started , he yelled at them until they ran away and scolded you for not defining yourself
you couldn't pay attention to what he was saying, he just looked cute when he was mad
he was too short too , whenever you try telling him how much you like his hight he turns his head Away saying "you are just too tall ,my height is average!"
after months and months of "dating " you two got into a fight, he started it as usual but this time you couldn't bear with it
your vision got blurry, you were mad at him
wasn't he your lover? why couldn't he act like he's a little interested? why should YOU put effort in the relationship when he doesn't even give you the bare minimum?
"(Y/N)! DO YOU NOT HEAR ME?? WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIS ! YOU ARE SO SELFI-"
scara was on the floor, hands on his right cheek that was getting red
'eh .?.. what..' he didn't understand, you would never do that right? maybe he did a lot of wrong things but you loved him you wouldn't do that.. right??
"enough scara , you talk too much "
you couldn't even believe yourself, that was too harsh on him but he needed to understand.
his vision became blurry, tears falling down his eyes as he looked at you
he understood, he knew he was in wrong
and now he's going to be left alone again
you obviously were mad but you couldn't stand him crying like that in front of you
"sorry.." you turned around leaving him, walking away while blaming yourself about how cruel you were
it has been a two weeks since that day
you two didn't talk or even looked at each other
he missed your messages
you always messaged him some simple things
"did you eat well today?"
"how was your day?"
"are you back home? should i walk you home myself? it's getting dark.."
"don't stay up late"
might seem pretty simple and stupid but he really missed them
now he was absent for 2 days straight
you were worried about him
after school you immediately walked to his apartment, opening the door without knocking because you had a spare key
he wasn't in the living room, the kitchen or the bathroom. you slowly Walk to his bedroom as you heard coughing.
he was laying in his bed , his face is red and clearly was a having a fever .
he was asleep when you took care of him , he kept mumbling your name saying he was sorry he wants you back, "don't leave" many times .
scaramouche opened his eyes to find everything clean, his health was getting better
you took care if everything while he was asleep.
once he heard foot steps, turning around to find you carrying a soup bowl , you looked a little tired too since you had to clean his mess
"you .. should have called me when you got sick. it could have gone worse if i didn't come in time "you said as you avoided his eyes a little embarrassed
"..." he kept silent, fists clenching on the bed "sorry.."
"for not being a good boyfriend..i-i .. "
you looked at him , he was crying
"(y/n)! (y-y/n-n)!" he kept sobbing while repeating your name
warping your hands around him , taking him in a warm hug got him surprised, he kept crying on your shoulder like there's no tomorrow
and after calming down you apologized too
taking his cheek with your hand, placing your lips on his as his accepted it
he sure didn't know how to kiss since it was his first time ! once you pulled away his cheeks were flushed his eyes weren't looking at you
you ended up wanting more which got him more embarrassed and red
Summary: Eddie never backs down from a dare, even if he had to drive out to the middle-of-fucking-nowhere to a sex shop to prove it.
Word Count: 3k
Rating: 18+ for mature themes (no actual smut)
Warnings: mentions of sex, swearing, adult themes, reader works at a sex shop, Eddie and reader are over 18
A/N: first time writing for Eddie! well, first time posting what I’ve written for Eddie... may or may not have more in my drafts lol (also bad title but fucking sue me okay)
This was stupid.
The entire notion of this dare was completely and utterly stupid.
But, a dare was a dare and Eddie Munson wasn’t one to chicken out—not when he drove his sorry-ass thirty minutes out of his way to a building sat in the seemingly middle of nowhere. But, to the building’s credit, Hawkins itself was in the middle of nowhere to begin with—the point? Moot.
Why was this even the dare that Gareth came up with anyway? He could’ve had Eddie run a hundred laps at the school field, lick the bottom of his own sneakers—the thought alone was nauseating—hell, Eddie would’ve taken spending an entire Saturday at the library… studying. This? This was embarrassing.
After finishing the blunt he had stashed away in his glove compartment, Eddie finally found enough nerve to pull his ass out of his truck and move to the building next to the small lot he parked in. The neon sign hanging in the front door flickered and nearly fizzled—it had to be as old as the building it hung in—it wasn’t looking like a great sign for him to continue on, but, like a soldier going into battle, he ventured on and into the store. His first impression? It was… clean. Surprisingly so, hell, even the air smelled fresher than the outdoors he just came in from. He guessed his preconceived notions about an establishment such as this one was just—
Eddie couldn’t have turned his head faster.
“Oh good, you can hear me,” the girl at the register laughed lightly, “thought you were ignoring my very kind greeting.”
“I—uh—guess I was,” Eddie replied sheepishly, his hand finding a home at the back of his neck, “sorry.”
“I was trying to ask you,” she smirked, shifting her weight from one elbow over to the other, “that I needed to see some ID.”
“I’m afraid this shop isn’t exactly a watering hole for children and tweens—I’m sure you already knew that, though.”
She blinked once. Twice. “Y’know, because…?” With that, she ended her thought with a—rather ostentatious—gesture to the sales floor in front of them, products lit up and blinking like a Christmas tree.
Eddie’s face grew warm. “Uh, yeah, right,” he fumbled up to the counter, fishing into his back pocket for his wallet, “here you go.”
The girl took his ID and scanned over it quickly—it was obvious that she had done that quite a few times—before handing it back to Eddie. “Not that I thought that you were in middle school or anything, but, y’know, store policy and all that.”
“Really? Damn, here I thought I could’ve weaseled my way into the Snow Ball this year and wreak some havoc.”
“You want to go to a middle school dance?”
“Well, no, obviously not,” he laughed shakily, “I was… sorry, it was a joke.”
“I know,” she hummed, “well, it was an attempt at a joke—didn’t really land though.”
“Ouch,” Eddie grabbed his chest dramatically, “that cut me deep.”
“If a stranger working at a sex shop cut you deep with an insult, I’d hate to know what happens when a friend does the same thing.”
“My friends are respectable people,” he stood a bit straighter, pulling on his leather jacket, “they would never defile my honor like that.”
“Uh huh,” she clicked, “sure.”
Eddie blinked. “You don’t believe me?”
“Tell me, Edward—”
“Your license,” she shrugged as if it were such a simple explanation, “though I can’t say I pegged you for an Edward, seems a bit too… basic for someone like you.”
“I go by Eddie,” he clarified.
“Eddie,” she repeated. He couldn’t say he hated how it sounded coming from her—beautiful and pink—lips. “Okay Eddie, as I was saying, those friends of yours whom you claim would never defile your honor—”
“They would not,” he nodded.
“They wouldn’t happen to be the whole reason you’re here, right?”
Eddie was at a loss for words. Was it really that obvious? Did he look truly that out of place? “You don’t think that I came here on my own volition? By my own choice?”
“Nope,” she shook her head, “I reckon you probably buy your rubbers and nudie magazines from some corner store in town, so why would you bother coming out all this way unless it were for… I don’t know, a dare of some kind?”
“Maybe the nudie mags that are offered near me weren’t my speed,” he shrugged, trying to play it off, “or I already burned through the corner store’s stock of rubbers?”
“Oh I’m sure that’s it.”
“Y’know, being sarcastic with your customers isn’t exactly a great business model.”
“Don’t really have to worry about scaring off someone who wasn’t planning on buying anything anyway.”
“I’ll have you know I was planning on buying something,” he corrected, “but your attitude is just entirely off-putting. Maybe I should take my business elsewhere?”
She turned her attention back to the—completely safe for young eyes—magazine that had sat on the register beside her, effectively ignoring Eddie. He stood silent, nearly shocked at absolute gall of the beautiful stranger. “Aren’t you supposed to fight for my business?”
“Aren’t you supposed to not lie to people?” she asked, not looking up from her magazine. “Isn’t that, like, the first rule of kindergarten or something?”
“I’m not lying to you.”
“…right, and I’m the Queen of England.”
“Oh, Your Majesty,” he bowed deeply, “my sincerest of apologies.”
Her gaze flicked up for just a moment, laughter bubbling in her chest at the sight of Eddie bowing so elegantly before her. She’ll bite. “Alright, you’ve made your point,” the laugh she tried holding back escaped her, “do you need help finding anything in here?”
“Actually,” he rose his head, still bowing, “yes, I would appreciate some assistance in finding what I seek from your humble establishment, Your Majesty.”
“Humble establishment,” she mumbled, pulling herself away from the desk, “so, what’re you looking for?”
Her arms were at her hips, giving Eddie full view of the outfit she was wearing—it was relatively normal—he was expecting something more… out there. “That’s an excellent question, use it often?”
“Yeah that’s, like, my job?”
“Just tryin’ to make small talk, sweetheart,” he held his hands up in admission, “but, uh, I guess I’m not really sure exactly what I’m looking for.”
“You drove yourself out to a sex shop without knowing what you’re looking for?”
“I think I said ‘exactly’,” he narrowed his eyes, “obviously I know what I’m looking for.”
“And that would be…?”
“A… vibrator,” he mumbled, suddenly feeling very shy.
“I’m sorry, I’m gonna need you to speak up?”
“I’m looking for a vibrator,” he repeated, speaking more clearly, “you know? Something that vibrates or whatever.”
“Well that I can help you find, easy,” she smirked, waving him to follow her. She continued to walk across the small store, was hardly bigger than a classroom, a classroom filled to the brim with all sorts of fun looking things, things he didn’t know existed until that moment. “What kind of vibrator are you in the market for? You’ve got a few options.”
“Ah, I don’t think that it has to be anything fancy—”
“I’m sure your girlfriend would beg to differ,” she laughed airily, thumbing through a few options hanging on the wall.
“S’not for my girlfriend,” he rocked on his feet, heel to toe.
“Oh, in that case, you may want to get one with a flared bottom just so it doesn’t get lost up your—”
“No!” Eddie didn’t mean to shout, but the sound carried a bit farther than he expected it to. “It’s not for me either, no ma’am. I’m very comfortable in my tried and true methods, thank you very much.”
“Never hurts to try something new,” she said, gently putting back a package that she had pulled from the wall, “so if it’s not for your girlfriend and it’s not for you…?”
“Well, considering I don’t have a girlfriend—”
“What? Are you shocked?” He felt his chest swell the tiniest bit, she seemed relieved.
“Honestly? A little bit,” she agreed, “you’ve got that whole rock-n-roll vibe and everything. Most girls are into that nowadays.”
“Is that something you’re into, sweetheart?”
“I could be persuaded, sure.”
“That’s not a no.”
“I guess it’s not,” she smiled lightly, turning her attention back to the wall of colorful machinery. She looked as if she was contemplating the options, mulling over a fine wine or critiquing a piece of art, before pulling a package from the wall. It was a small thing, hot pink and—if Eddie had to guess—was bullet shaped. “Is this something that will fit your very cryptic needs?”
“No fucking way that thing is a vibrator,” he scoffed, pulling the package from her hands, “it’s tiny.”
“Size doesn’t matter,” she laughed, “from what I’ve heard this model packs quite the punch.”
“What? Do you not fancy one of these for yourself?” It was a bold question, Eddie knew that much, but the blunt from earlier was finally kicking in—the adrenaline from entering the store probably outweighed the effects earlier—so anything was seemingly fair game. “Or,” he pulled a rather large, more phallic shaped thing from the wall, “is this more your speed?”
“I can’t say I test all the merchandise,” she nearly yawned, “but if you really want to know what I like…”
He held his breath.
“You better be taking me out first,” she winked, turning her back to the now furiously blushing metalhead. “Seriously though, if you’re not gonna share any sort of information of what you’re wanting with me I’m just going to rip down the entire wall into your arms.”
“I’d like to see you try that.”
“Don’t test me, Zeppelin.”
Eddie smiled at the nickname, his attention flicking back to the colorful wall beside them. Led Zeppelin wasn’t at the top of his favorite bands, but for some reason he had the strange urge to go and listen to any tape or record he or Uncle Wayne had of theirs—for research purposes, obviously. He reached out to pull another box off the wall, the weight surprising him. “Do people actually buy these? I mean, really?”
“Some people prefer the realistic look,” she said simply, “the realistic feel.”
“Oh,” he put the package back, “sure, yeah that… checks out.”
“You sound surprised.”
“Do I look surprised?”
Eddie stood silent for a moment before taking a deep breath. “Fine, maybe I’m a little surprised. I guess I never imagined that when people came to buy… these, that they’d really be going for a realistic thing, you know?”
“Oh yeah,” she nodded, “there’s something for everyone these days.”
“But, I mean,” he pressed his finger to the plastic, “this is like… scary real looking.”
“Some people just really miss their partners I guess, wanting a similar feel, if I had to take a wild guess,” she laughed, “but I try not to judge people’s interests, not too critically anyway.”
He tapped his fingers a few times against the packaging, his rings not offering much of a different sound on the surface. The girl nearly sashayed back up to the register whilst he was momentarily lost in thought, only turning her attention back to Eddie when she returned.
“Aren’t you gonna buy it?”
“Oh,” he raised the package closer to his chest, reading the text on the plastic diligently, “yeah, I think this will be fine.”
“I think your buddies are gonna love that one,” the tap of her fingers against the glass of the counter rang throughout the room, “it’s terribly realistic.”
“Yeah I think they’ll be alright with—”
He stopped dead in his tracks.
“Uh huh,” she clicked, a small smile creeping onto her lips, “I knew it.”
“Fuck,” he ran his free hand through his hair, “was it really that obvious?”
“I work at a sex shop in the middle of the fucking woods, the only people who come out here are perverts, curious ladies looking to change up their solo time or some freshly-eighteen boys on a bet or dare. It’s not hard to catch onto a pattern.”
“How often does that happen?”
“Eh, twice a week?”
“Lots of people lose bets, apparently,” she helplessly shrugged, “either way, it’s good for business and my parents can keep the lights on this shack a bit longer.”
“I’m sorry, parents? Like, your mom and pop own this kind of shop?”
“Yeah, not exactly a quaint little downtown boutique, but it’s got charm and the cash flow is insane. Who knew perverts would blow a couple of Benjamins on this shit?”
“I—yeah, that’s actually pretty impressive,” Eddie agreed, fishing into his back pocket again for his wallet, “so… what’s the damage?”
“Ten bucks,” she said, putting the purchase into a hot pink plastic bag—thankfully with no store branding on it to Eddie’s relief.
He pointed to the back wall, “but the sign over there said—”
“Consider it a new customer discount,” she said nonchalantly, pushing the bag across the glass countertop. He hadn’t noticed it before, but the glass case she stood behind was full of higher-end, colorful, glass blown products. They weren’t all toys, he realized, he might’ve spotted a few pipes if he looked hard enough.
“Aw, a discount for little ol’ me?” Eddie handed the girl a crumpled bill.
“What can I say? I’m feeling generous.”
“You sure it’s not a handsome guy discount?”
Another bold statement from Eddie this evening, it seemed. It was worth a shot, anyway, right?
“A discount is a discount,” the girl smirked as she loaded the money into the register beside her, “could be the senior citizen discount and you’d be none the wiser.”
“Okay, that’s a little gross to think about—”
“Old people can have sex—”
“You think I’m a senior citizen?”
“Of course not,” she laughed, “you’re not much older than I am.”
“You seem to forget I read your license earlier?”
“Oh. Right,” he deflated a little bit, “is it by a lot…or…?”
“Well, I sure as hell am not a minor, if that’s what you’re asking,” she laughed again. God, he loved that laugh. “Couldn’t be working here if I was.”
“That’s good, wouldn’t want to catch a case for thinking the store clerk is cute,” Eddie smiled, leaning against the glass counter.
“Do you normally think minors are cute…?”
Eddie stumbled. “Jesus, no! Of course not! I was—it was a bad joke—”
“You seem to have a lot of those.”
“Well, pretty girls make me nervous,” he tried to play it off.
“Huh,” she clicked, clearly fighting back a grin, “alright, well, I hope your buddies get a kick outta their prize.” She pointed to the bag that now firmly sat in Eddie’s grasp.
“Yeah,” he nodded, “I’m sure they will.”
“Can I ask?”
“Ask?” He turned his head.
“Why did your friends make you come out here to buy a vibrator?” she quirked her brow. “Aren’t they sitting in your car or something and just dare you to spend like, fifteen minutes or whatever in the store?”
“That—well, funny you mention that,” Eddie nervously chuckled, “that was the original plan, but they had something come up tonight so… they insisted I buy evidence that I came in here.”
“They insisted you buy something you have no use for?”
“I’m sure I could find some use for it,” he grinned, “or maybe find someone to use it with.” He couldn’t really tell, but he could’ve sworn he saw the tips of her ears darken—her cheeks following in a similar fashion.
“I threw our business card in the bag. Y’know, just incase your buddies don’t believe you—”
“I’m sure the realistic sculpted dick vibrator is enough for them,” Eddie winked, pressing his hand up against the door to handle, “but I appreciate the excellent customer service, sweetheart.”
Without even a goodbye, Eddie practically ran out of the store and back to his van. Why did he do that? He could’ve at least asked her out—she was clearly interested in what he had to offer. He never even got her name.
“Fuck!” Eddie hit his head against the steering wheel, fists resting on both sides of his face. “You’re an idiot, Munson. Obviously can’t go back in there now, she’d think I’m a crazy pervert or something,” he hit his head again, “stupid, stupid, stupid…” It only took him exactly seven minutes to finish with his pity party he threw for himself before he dared to look in the hot pink bag in the seat next to him.
The business card.
It had to have had the shop’s phone number on it, right? He could speed home and try giving it a ring before they closed for the night. Maybe she’d answer? Laugh with him about how stupid he was—or maybe just laugh in his face at his mistake. Either way, he had to give it a shot. Eddie reached into the bag for the card, his shoulders slumping immediately when there was no phone number listed on the face of the card, just the name of the shop and the address. “What kind of store doesn’t have a fucking phone number?”
It was only when he flipped the card over he saw it.
There, on the pristine white of the backside of the card was something written in pink ink—a bit smudged—it was obviously written in a hurry. It was a phone number, a personal home phone number if Eddie had to take a wild guess.
You better call me, Zeppelin
He pursed his lips, his face contorting into probably his biggest grin of the night. She gave him her number. “(Y/N), huh?” Eddie laughed to himself, re-reading the card as if the ink would fade away. He’d be an idiot not to call her—to ignore such a pretty face.
Maybe he’d get use out of his recent purchase after all.
Flufftober Day 1 – Wearing each other’s clothes
Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader
Word Count: 2025
Warnings: fem!reader, mentions of extreme loneliness, brief alcohol mention but no usage
Author's Note: Playing catch-up now that I have some time. This was supposed to be a drabble oops, but it is by far one of my favorite things I've ever written for Steve.
See the full prompt list for flufftober here. Still accepting requests for who to write for each day!
Steve’s favorite day of the week had gradually shifted from Friday to Saturday over the past year. Friday had been the night for parties, the night for first dates, the night for drives out to lover’s lake, the night for cold beers by the pool, and the night for whispered promises (lies) to push back the heartache. That had all changed, though, along with his friend group and his definition of a good time. Now Saturday was his favorite day of the week, because Saturday was movie night.
It wasn’t that he cared so much about what movies the group actually watched (okay he did care. A lot.) Nor was it the fact that you always brought some exciting new snack or baked good for everyone to try. No, instead it was the fact that Saturday nights were the only time that the museum that was the Harrington house actually felt like a home.
The halls were more vibrant, more warm. The pristine couches (not so pristine after Dustin spilled his Dr Pepper, but that was fine. Steve’s parents would never spend enough time in the room to notice anyway) actually felt comfortable for once. Steve could finally feel at ease with the beautiful cacophony of voices bouncing off the walls, never quite quieting down enough to actually hear the movie. He could feel like he had a real family.
That was why it always hit him so hard when it was over. Every movie had an ending, and half the group had curfews that had somehow become solely Steve’s responsibility to make. You would hang back to clean up while he drove everyone else home, but then you, too, would go. Then the silence would return, and then the cold, and then the loneliness.
Steve couldn’t do that, not tonight. Not when his parents had already been gone for two weeks, with two more to go, and he hadn’t quite been able to schedule any dates to fill the void since the day you had kissed him on the cheek in thanks for something that didn’t need a thanks at all.
When he came back from dropping off the kids, you were humming softly to yourself, picking individual M&Ms from the plush carpet where they had been left to get crushed underfoot after a particularly vicious snack preference disagreement.
Steve smiled at your back, wondering if you had any idea just how wonderful you were, or if that was a fact just for him. Like how pretty you looked when you were embarrassed, or how raspy your voice sounded when you woke up at 4am to keep a lonely Steve company on the phone.
He swallowed that thought, a mix of affection and his usual melancholy at war in his chest. This house didn’t want Steve to have nice things, and your affection was one of the nicest things around.
“Hey, Stevie, I was thinking…”
He was so lost in his reverie that he didn’t notice you stand up, the plush carpet swallowing your footsteps when you approached him. You were just suddenly there and he nearly jumped out of his skin. It was worth the embarrassment when you laughed, reaching out to grab his arm and squeeze. You could scare him all you wanted, if it made you laugh like that.
“Thinking’s dangerous, babe.” He quipped, hiding behind a lopsided grin. You wrinkled your nose and rolled your eyes and he prided himself at his own force of will. It took everything not to kiss you right there, and if he were a weaker man, or perhaps a smarter man, he would’ve done it anyway.
“Oh, shut up. I was thinking,” You continued, your eyes narrowing into a glare, daring him to interrupt, “That I might stay the night tonight, keep you company in person.”
There were no words for the warm melty feeling in Steve’s chest, the way his heart ached and yearned and was content all at once. Or perhaps it was just that the words felt too big for his mouth, too scary to vocalize lest you not feel the same. Instead, he pulled you into a smothering hug, dropping an affectionate kiss to the crown of your head with an urgency he hoped you understood.
“Please.” Was all he could manage, his voice thick with emotion. He wasn’t going to cry, not over a sleepover, but damn if he didn’t come close. He hadn’t wanted to ask, knowing that your parents were out of town, in case you had other plans. The loneliness of his house was unbearable, but the rejection would be worse. This was… perfect.
When you managed to wrestle your way out of his steel grasp, you were laughing, shoving at his arms when he reached for you again. This quickly turned into him chasing you around the living room, your high-pitched shrieks echoing in the empty house as you tried to evade his affectionate embrace. You were fast but he was faster. It was his house, after all, and he was an athlete. You moved to jump over the back of the couch and he grabbed you by the waist, rolling with you so that you were both laying on the couch, your body pressed against his.
You were laughing, breathless, and when you opened your eyes to look at Steve’s face, he was lost.
There was something so effortless about being happy around you. Something so natural about having you around that his general ennui didn’t stand a chance. How could it, when a pretty girl that knew him well enough to offer to keep him company late on a Saturday night was smiling at him, noses nearly touching, eyes wide and bright…
He should have kissed you then. Should have been less of a coward. Steve wasn’t an idiot, he knew what that look meant on a girl’s face, when your eyes flickered down to his lips and then back to his face. He knew that he wanted to kiss you. In fact, he had never wanted anything more than to crush you into his chest and kiss you silly in that moment. But he didn’t.
Instead, he used his grip on your sides to tickle you and you screeched, rolling sideways off the couch, laughter spilling from your lips as you finally escaped his grasp and fled to the other side of the coffee table.
“You’re the worst, Steve Harrington.” You joked. He knew you didn’t mean it, not with the smile still curving your lips and the laughter you couldn’t keep out of your voice.
“Yeah, yeah, I’ve been called worse.” He shrugged, sitting up, “Let’s get you ready for bed before you cause any more trouble.”
“Me?!” You scoffed, arms crossing indignantly. Steve hummed and stood, gesturing towards the stairs with a nod of his head.
“Yes, you. I bet you didn’t even bring a t-shirt. You can pick one from my drawer.”
You narrowed your eyes at his deflection, but still followed him up to his bedroom, flipping off the lights as you left each part of the house. Steve knew he was right. You hadn’t brought anything with you, offering to stay only once you had seen the sadness creeping into his gaze at the prospect of being left all alone once again.
He pretended not to watch you as you rifled through his t-shirt drawer. He was thinking about your lips, and the warmth of your breath across his face making his skin tingle, and your body pressed tight against his, and—He shouldn’t have been thinking about any of that. Not when you were doing him a favor just by staying the night, and certainly not when you were walking into his bathroom to strip out of your clothes.
He took your absence as a chance to change into his pajamas, trying to push away the thoughts of what your kiss would taste like as he threw on an old t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants that hung low on his hips. It didn’t work, of course. You were still you, and you were still there, changing into his clothes.
When you walked out of the bathroom, he was sitting on his bed again, propped up against his pillows with one leg hanging carelessly off the side of the bed. He hoped he maintained a normal expression, because he felt his entire universe lurch sideways at the sight of you.
You had chosen an old Hawkins Phys.-Ed. Shirt that was slightly faded from the number of times it had been washed over the year. It was just a grey-t-shirt, but it hung halfway down your thigh, the rest of your legs on full display, and something primal in Steve was screaming that that was his shirt. He had sweated in that shirt, bled in it, cried in it briefly after the bleeding. It was his, his, his, and it was a damn shame that you weren’t too.
He took a shaky breath, and smiled, pushing the caveman thoughts to somewhere they wouldn’t interfere because you were his best friend and you were staying the night to do him a favor and (you were wearing his shirt, holy shit.)
“Is this one okay? Sorry, I should have asked.” You had the audacity to look bashful standing there looking like sex, and Steve had to swallow to keep his thoughts straight.
“No, yeah, it’s perfect! I mean, it’s fine.” He stumbled over his words, cursing himself for the fumble, “I might have to let you keep that one; You wear it better.”
You laughed at that, finally fully entering the room.
It was worse up close. You dumped your clothes on the floor beside the bed and jumped up next to Steve, molding yourself into his side with your legs tucked under you. The smell of his laundry detergent on you made his thoughts race in a way that he might have been ashamed of if he possessed the capacity to be that anymore.
When he turned to make another joke, you were looking up at him through heavy lashes, chin tilted up to match his gaze, still smiling slightly, the ghost of a laugh still lingering on your lips. You were so pretty he could cry and when he instinctively found himself leaning towards you, he found that you were leaning right back.
Steve had wanted to kiss you for so long that he was sure the real thing could never live up to his fantasy. He had never been so wrong in his life.
Your lips were soft and pliant as he kissed you, the warmth of your body against his lighting small fires across his skin. You grabbed one of his arms with yours and squeezed again like you had earlier, pulling him closer to you like you couldn’t bear to be apart. He kissed you slowly, reverently, memorizing the way you felt in his arms, the way your mouth felt against his, the way you breathed when all you could breathe was him. There was a hollow in his chest that was suddenly full of you, all at once, and he couldn’t bear the thought of that going away.
When you pulled away, it was to press a kiss against his forehead, his cheek, his shoulder, his mouth again, and then you were smiling again and Steve just stared, taking you in.
“Thought I told you not to cause any more trouble.” He joked, leaning in to kiss you again, reveling in the way you shivered with delight at the press of his lips, the way you reciprocated without hesitation, the way your grip on his arm tightened when he tried to pull away.
“’m not trouble, Stevie.” You protested. You tried to pout, but Steve just kissed it away until you were laughing into his mouth, pretending to try to shove him away with no real force.
“No?” He asked, earnestly, “what are you then?”
He didn’t think his night could be much better with you so close, lips swollen from his kiss, but you nearly knocked him dead with your response.
Harry liked to think that he wasn't a jealous person. He liked to believe that he was level headed, that he wasn't suspicious, and that he had reasonable boundaries when it came to his boyfriend.
Unfortunately, this was patently untrue.
His mind healer would tell him that his possessive streak and jealous nature were a result of trauma. Not having his needs met as a child, not having enough of anything, manifested in his desire to keep his things to himself.
And Draco was a person, not a thing. A person whom he loved and respected, a person who he knew had bodily autonomy, which made it all the harder for him to wrap his brain around his possessiveness.
Perhaps Harry could have gone right on believing that he wasn't a jealous person, if not for the fact that Ron and Draco had started hanging out constantly, always whispering to each other.
When Harry had owled to invite Draco to lunch this afternoon, he received a short apology note back and Draco let him know that he already had plans with Ron.
In a fit of pique, Harry flooed to the Ministry and marched himself to Hermione's office for lunch. Stomping inside of her office, he set out the containers of Chicken Tikka Masala, jasmine rice, na'an, samosas, and Dal soup that he'd started preparing last night and finished this morning.
Hermione raised an eyebrow at the food, "not that I'm complaining, but what's this all about?"
"Well," Harry said as he opened the containers, "I made it for lunch with Draco but your husband is eating lunch with him so someone had to eat it."
She laughed, "It's fairly normal for them to eat together, you know," she said. "They've been Auror partners for six years."
"I know," he groaned, biting into a samosa with great satisfaction, "you're right. But I just," he shrugged miserably. "They see each other all day and I only get to see him occasionally in the evenings and when he deigns to have lunch with me."
"I think it's more than occasionally," she said, holding back an eye roll that Harry could still hear in her voice.
He huffed, "Fine," he conceded. "But he still spends all day with him."
She hummed, "Well, I'm glad for the opportunity to have lunch with you. I always enjoy your cooking."
"Good," he grumbled, "Tell Draco how good it was so he realizes what he's missing."
Hermione reached across the desk and covered Harry's hand with her own, "He loves you."
"I love him too," Harry sighed.
Harry decided that he was going to talk to Draco that evening. It seemed only fair to have a conversation with him about what was bothering him.
So when the invitation for dinner arrived, Harry wrote back right away, agreeing.
After knocking, he waited nervously on the doorstep, tapping his fingers against his thigh. And when the door opened he almost forgot what he'd wanted to say. Draco was standing illuminated by the light of his entryway, feet bare, wearing Harry's favorite cardigan.
"Hi," he said.
"Hi yourself," Draco replied, smiling brightly at him, "come in," he added, stealing a quick kiss as Harry walked past.
Harry wandered into the living room, "Listen, before we eat, could we talk?" he asked.
"Sure," he said amiably. "I had something I wanted to ask, too," he added. "Can I go first?"
And Harry wanted to say no, wanted to just blurt and tell him that it was burning him up that he was spending so much of their free time with Ron, but he took a deep breath and nodded. "Yeah," he said. "Of course."
Draco grinned at him, then sat down on the footstool in front of Harry, "Harry," he said.
"Yeah?" he asked, heart beating just a little bit harder in his chest.
"We've been together for almost two years now-"
"Are you breaking up with me?" he asked, heart roaring in his ears, breath coming a little too short. "I can change-"
"Harry," Draco said, laying a hand on Harry's, "of course not. Just," he shook his head, "let me finish."
He nodded and waited, fidgeting a bit.
"We've been together for almost two years now, and I have been in love with you for far longer. You are the kindest, most genuine person I know. You make my life better, you make me better and I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you," he continued, pulling a small box out of his pocket and dropping to his knees on the floor. "Would you marry me?" he asked, opening the box and showing Harry a gold ring with little diamonds all around.
"What?" he whispered, eyes filling with tears, "What? I thought you were getting sick of me. I thought you were tired of spending time with me-"
"No," Draco said, brow furrowing. "Why-"
Harry wiped at his eyes, "You've been spending so much time with Ron lately-"
"Because he was helping me plan this," he said.
Draco laughed, "Say yes and I'll show you."
"Yes," he said, "Circe, Draco, of course. Yes."
And as if he'd said a spell, people started pouring into the room, all of their friends and family ready to congratulate them.
Harry kissed him, accepting the ring and sniffling as he tried to pull himself together.
"I'm sorry," Draco murmured through all of the cheering a ruckus. "I love you. I didn't mean-"
"It doesn't matter," he said, kissing Draco again. "I love you, I'm sorry I was jealous."
"I won't keep you in the dark anymore," he said. "I won't keep secrets."
And Harry's eyes welled up with tears once more. They spilled down his cheeks and he nodded, grateful for Draco's love and understanding.
"We've people to greet," Draco commented, nodding toward the room.
"Yes," he agreed. "Stay with me?"
"Always," Draco murmured, sliding his fingers through Harry's as they started around the room. "Always."
SYPNOSIS: “Baking cookies for my love! Baking cookies for your love!” where you’re making cookies for them.
CONTENT WARNINGS: It’s really fluff
A/N: random ahh selection of characters/ I forgot about this and it was sitting in my drafts for the longest of times
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ YOUR THE ONE WHO BAKES COOKIES FOR THEM
Knowing there were many ways you would never be able to repay their display of affection, you decided to do this small yet greatly significant gesture. With the help of your dear friend you spent the next 3 hours making cookies, yes most batches turned out well but they weren’t perfect enough.
The failed cookies were eaten by your friend whom now seemed to only live laugh live cookies from the abundance of batches you guys had made. The few cookies that passed your mighty cookie exam even with your penetrating eye looking for any fault to criticize and remake- were now put into a volume lace bag tied with a beautiful red ribbon. The bag of cookies laid beautifully in the middle of a straw basket with flowers and other trinkets surrounding it.
Although you knew it might not suffice as payment for the countless amount of times they had comforted in your time of need- or tried to comfort you, the amount of times they gave you their love, leaving them in such vulnerable position. Even if the quantity of love that you received was small it held baronial amounts of meaning behind the gesture, or if their love was as grandiose and evidently noticeable (maybe even if it’s in the middle of that scale), you somehow had to give back to them.
So even if the gesture was small, you gave them a cookie! Sorry, I meant an absolutely flawless cookie, perfect smell, an impeccable appearance, splendid texture mixed with your love, sweat, and tears. To most this cookie would rival even rival that if Micheln Star restaurants.
But this was something sent by the gods and received by a mere person like themselves, it was just a spectacular event they’d cherish. Yes the gesture was not grand, but they ate that up.
Gratitude and love if loving you more was even possible had burst like a dam, conquering their rationality and mind. They gave a kiss or two, some even giving more kisses than the average couple give each other in just a mere moment.
Some compliment the cookie, some express their joy through gestures and actions, some verbal and so on. But one thing that I definitely know they did was thank you, the butterflies swarming their belly’s non stop. They probably had heart in their eyes, accompanied with a love-struck smile ehrtet this was evident or not- they definitely loved it.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ DAZAI, fyodor, DION, JEREMY, CALE, AHIN GRACE, NIKOLAI sigma, Giyuu,CHUUYA, PANTALONE, DOTTORE, SCARAMOUCHE, KEVIN KASLANA, KALPAS, GOJO, mobius, Toya, NENE, Supporting Character Kyle, eren, and yor.
Pairing: Divorced Dave York x f!Nanny Reader
Summary: Of all the people Dave expects to call him so close to midnight, you aren't top of the list. Nor did he ever expect that he'd be your first call when in trouble.
Word Count: 2.8k
Rating: General, but my blog is 18+ only
Warnings: Fluff. Soft!Dave. Language. Mentions of divorce. Mentions of a mugging. Mentions of blood.
A/N: I thought I would try my hand at soft!Dave after going all in on murder daddy in my last fic. As always, thanks to @pedropascalsx for dragging me into the Dave pit.
The full moon shines through Dave’s bedroom window, casting motionless silhouettes of limbs and leaves in the room. He is tired, but sleep evades him, as it has nearly every night since Carol left. He stares up at the ceiling of the house he now hates, torturing himself with scenarios of what he could’ve done to prevent his family from fracturing. He tries to remember the last time he even bought her flowers – except for birthdays and anniversaries – and draws a blank.
It wasn’t enough.
Suddenly, a loud and insistent ring comes from the nightstand, echoing throughout the empty house.
Taking a deep breath, Dave closes his eyes and exhales loudly, wishing he could will the phone to stop ringing, not in the mood for whatever bullshit Susan wants to discuss at this hour. But it drones on, singing its happy little tune, and he knows if she’s calling so late, it must be important – at least to her. He’s disappointed enough people lately, so he has no choice but to answer.
“Yeah?” he grumbles into the phone, sounding barely awake. He rubs his eyelids with his index finger and thumb, drawing them together to pinch the bridge of his nose as he waits for a response. To his surprise, it’s not Susan’s voice that comes through the receiver, but yours.
“Mr. York…,” you croak, your voice cracking, tears clearly building in the back of your throat.
His eyes burst open. Brows furrowed, Dave pushes himself up in bed and speaks your name, confusion evident in his voice. Of all the people he’d expect to call him so close to midnight, you weren’t top of the list, especially since it is your week off – the girls with Carol. But he can sense something is wrong, hear it in your voice and the way your shuddered breathes come through the phone. His heart begins to race.
“I-I’m sorry,” you rasp. “I didn’t know who else to call.”
He swings his legs over the edge of the bed, more than just a little concerned at this point. “What is it? Are you okay?”
“I…I just… I need a ride home,” you respond, but he senses there’s something you’re not telling him. Had you been drinking? Did you overindulge and just need a ride? No, there was something else…“Can you please pick me up?”
“Where are you?” he immediately questions, jumping to his feet and grabbing his keys and wallet off the nightstand.
“I, um, I…” you stammer, your brain clearly scattered in different directions, leaving you unable to think clearly.
“I need you to think, sweetheart,” Dave calmly directs. “Look around. Where are you?”
“Clinton Street,” you finally respond, sounding certain of your response. “Clinton and North.”
Quincy Market, Dave immediately recognizes, moving fast down the stairs. It wasn’t a particularly bad part of the city, but with the clubs and bars bustling with activity, anything could happen.
“I’m on my way.”
It’s not long before you see a familiar black Impala swerve around the corner, engine roaring as it speeds down the street. Feeling some semblance of safety, you step out of the dark alcove where to sought refuge and into the light of the streetlamp.
When Dave sees you, confusion washing over him. You’re a mess, your skin blooming with bruises, face crusted with blood from a gash on your forehead that’s still trying to bleed, makeup running in black rivers down your cheeks. What the fuck happened? Who would do this to you?
Watching him pull up beside the curb in front of you, you pull your arms tightly across yourself, tears whimpering softly at the back of your throat as you fight to hold them back. His tires screech to a halt when he brakes, throwing the car in park and cutting the engine in one swift movement before jumping out and sprinting to you.
“You didn’t tell me that you’re bleeding,” he asserts, moving to assess the injury.
“It’s nothing,” you lie, jumping back and raising a hand to prevent him from touching you. “I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine,” he replies sharply, not realizing that his fear was disguised as anger improperly directed toward you. “What the hell happened?”
You open your mouth to reply. Instead, you burst into tears, hysterically sobbing, before mumbling incoherent apologies in between explaining that you had been mugged on your way home from a night out. Your keys, your wallet, your false sense of security - everything but your phone and the clothes on your back - gone. You didn’t know what to do or who to call and you just want to go home. As you ramble on, you begin to make less and less sense, crying so hard that you can no longer talk and nearly start to hyperventilate, repeating, I want to go home.
“Hey, hey, hey,” Dave says, stepping closer and gently cupping your face.
Instinctively, you reach up and clutch the front of his black hooded sweatshirt, fingers tanging in the soft fabric, trying to keep yourself grounded to reality while you sob your heart out.
“Breathe. Look at me, sweetheart.” You look up, big, beautiful brown eyes meeting you. He nods, giving you assurance. “Just breathe, okay? I know you’re scared, but everything is going to be alright. None of this was your fault.”
You nod, keeping your eyes locked on him while you try to catch your breath. His eyes are soft, filled with understanding and tenderness. He gently runs the pads of his thumbs across your cheeks, as if trying to erase the tears, and you can’t help but melt into the warmth of his large hands.
Finally, you start to relax. You close your eyes, amazed at the sense of security and comfort that fills you. He lets his hands fall slowly from your face and gently clasps your arms instead, inviting goosebumps there.
“Now, tell me,” Dave finally speaks. “Who did this to you?”
You don’t know the man, but manage to rattle off all the details you remember: a vague description, the color of his clothes, where he came from, where he went.
“He’ll never hurt you again,” he promises you. “I’ll make sure of it. Okay?”
You nod once more. Though you wonder what he means by that, you leave the question hanging on your lips, afraid that if you try to speak, you’ll only break out in more tears.
After a moment of silence, he removes his hands from you, saying, “Let’s get you home.”
Your brows furrow. “I-I can’t”
“What do you mean?” he questions. It takes a second to dawn on him: your purse is gone. Everything is gone. “Oh, fuck. Your keys.”
Looking down at your feet, you scrape a shoe along the sidewalk. “Yeah…” You sigh, then look back up at him. “So, unless you can pick a lock…”
He huffs, then runs a hand across the bottom of his face. “I can call a locksmith.”
“It’s late, and it’ll cost a fortune,” you argue, not really wanting to wait around for someone to let you in to your apartment. “Besides, I-” You swallow, not wanting to finish your sentence, embarrassed by all of this, especially the almost-admission.
“What is it?”
Hanging your head, you lightly shake it, brushing off what you have to say. “It’s stupid, I know, but… well…. I just don’t want to be alone right now.”
“That’s not stupid,” he responds, flashing you a reassuring smile. “I wouldn’t want to be alone right now either. It’s fine. You can come home with me.”
“No,” you decline, causing him to look at you confusedly. “I can’t impose.”
“You called me here at midnight but now you don’t want to impose?” he questions, his mouth hooking into a playful smile.
“I meant that I can’t impose more,” you correct, trying to hide the smile tugging at the corner of your lips.
“You wouldn’t be,” he assures you. “I know that circumstances have changed…” He’s referring to the fact that you’re no longer a permanent live-in nanny for the Yorks, not since the divorce, instead only working the weeks Dave has the girls. “But you’ll always have a place with me - with us.”
Your throat closes up and you tuck your chin, keeping your eyes on the ground so he can’t see how much his words are affecting you. He likely didn’t mean anything by it, but the slip up leaves you wondering whether your little crush on him is reciprocated.
No, that’s stupid, you concede. He’s only trying to help.
Eventually, you nod, accepting his offer, knowing you’re too tired - emotionally and physically – to argue.
The drive home is silent, Dave’s right hand clutching the steering wheel and his left elbow propped on the door, fingers rubbing across the skin above his upper lip. He watches the buildings and streetlights fly past, faster and faster until they blur into nothing, like the thoughts in his head. His thoughts race to you, to the reasons you would call him, to the thought of a man touching you and why it makes him see red, to the things he needs to do to ensure you will never be harmed by him again. His blood boils and heart breaks all at once.
He looks at you out of the corner of his eyes, seeing your head resting against the passenger side window, eyes closed, your breathing even. Despite the bruises and cut on your face, you look beautiful. You don’t even have to try and you’re still gorgeous to him.
Fuck, he thinks, his grip on the steering wheel tightening. When the fuck did he develop a crush on you? Isn’t he too old for that sort of shit? He had his chance at love, at the picture-perfect family, and he blew it.
No, your wife blew it. “It” being her boss.
The rest of the drive home is a blur, and at last he pulls into the dark driveway of the dark home, illuminated by a single light on the front porch. He shuts off the engine then looks at you and studies your serene expression, grateful you could peace despite your hellish encounter. He hates that he has to disturb you, but he can’t let you sleep in the car.
“Hey,” Dave gently calls. The sound of his voice causes you to stir enough to shift, turning your head so that it’s no longer against the window and settling back into the seat as if you fully intend to continue sleeping there.
With a sigh, he gets out and moves to your side of the car then opens the door. Even with the sudden chill of the night air rushing inside, you don’t fully wake.
“I’m going to carry you inside, okay?” he informs you, carefully reaching across your body to unfasten your seatbelt. The simple "Mhm" you hum in response gives him some confidence that you won’t startle awake and attack him.
Carefully, Dave scoops you up from the passenger seat, your head rolling to his shoulder and arms wrapping around his neck as he picks you up. The fragrance of your perfume pervades his nostrils, which he deliberately inhales, allowing himself to be overwhelmed by the scent. He tries to stop the small sigh of pleasure that escapes his lips as you snuggle into the crook of his neck, the touch of your hair a gentle caress on his skin. The contact wasn’t sexual, but it offered him something else entirely: comfort. Something he’s been missing for far too long.
Dave holds you close to him, looking down at the top of your head as you sleep. He doesn’t know why, but he’s warmed at the thought of you trusting him enough to fall asleep. Something bad could’ve happened to you tonight, and though he regrets he wasn’t there to prevent it, he’s grateful you called him, feeling a deep desire to protect you.
Despite his bad shoulder, Dave carries you upstairs to the bedroom with ease. He lays you gently on the bed, ensuring your head comfortably hits the pillow. As soon as he’s removed his arms from your body, you roll to your side, getting comfortable. He waits for you to settle, then bends over and carefully removes your shoes, the least he can do to help. After quietly placing them on the floor, he grabs a blanket folded at the foot of the bed and drapes it over you, covering your body up to your shoulders.
“I’m going to get something to clean you up. I’ll be right back. Promise.”
You nod against the pillow.
Grabbing a clean washcloth and a bandage from the linen closet, Dave disappears into the bathroom down the hall. Locking himself in the room, he pulls out his phone and finds Ari in the list of contacts, pushing to call. When the man on the other end answers, Dave simply states everything you had told him about your assaulter, leaving clear instructions to do whatever he has to do find who did this to you – and to ensure he’d never do it again.
After ending the call, he leans back against the vanity and folds one arm across his chest, the elbow of the other propped on it, pressing his phone thoughtfully against his lips. He is frightened by the fact he didn’t give second thought to killing a man just for harming you. In all his years - decades - behind the scope, he never once had to be the one to call the shot. He never had to wrestle with the ethical or moral dilemmas of who had to die and why. He only had to pull the trigger, cross the name off the list as a completed project, and move on.
You do what you have to do and move on.
But how is he supposed to separate himself from this? When he just signed a man’s death warrant instead of delivering it under someone else’s command? When it involves you? What would you even say if you were to find out? Would you be disgusted? Afraid? See him as a cold-blooded killer? Or would you offer the words he needs to hear?
You did what you had to.
“Fuck,” he exhales softly, pushing himself away from the vanity and placing his phone in his pocket.
Adding soap and water to the washcloth, he rings it out in the sink, then returns to the guest room. When he steps into the room, he seems to leave his worries at the door. He approaches the bed, sits on the edge, and watches you sleep, staring at your peaceful beauty. A warm smile spreads across his face, his heart swelling, gut engulfed with a yearning so deep it’s almost painful.
“Sweetheart…,” he whispers, brushing a stray strand of hair off your face. “Hey. I hate to wake you, but-”
“Then don’t,” you murmur groggily.
He chuckles. “Sounds like it’s too late.”
“Mmm,” you groan.
“Well, since you’re already awake, I may as well clean up that cut.”
You don’t protest, and he takes it as permission. He warns you that it might hurt a little, then slowly, carefully, applies the warm, wet cloth to your skin. The sting forces you to open your eyes. He murmurs an apology, and you allow him to dab at the dried blood until it exposes the ugly cut just below your hairline.
You look at up through your eyelashes, watching him as he works, the light from the hallway illuminating him like an angel. Your angel.
Your heart squeezes.
“Will I live, doc?” you question, breaking the silence.
The humor delighting him, as it always does, he responds with a chuckle low in his throat while applying the bandage to your wound. “It was a little touch-and-go there for a minute, but I think you’ll be fine.”
Satisfied with his work, at least for tonight, he stops fussing with your face. He looks down at you, and your eyes meet. They were tired and heavy with dark circles underneath, yet there was still a sparkle and shine to them.
Fuck, you’re perfect.
“Get some rest,” he says while rising to his feet, tearing himself away from you. “You can shower in the morning.”
“Subtle way to tell me I stink,” you grumble.
Dave laughs, knowing that wasn’t his meaning at all. “Get some rest.”
Nodding, your lids come down over your eyes once more, too heavy to keep open any longer.
As if by instinct, Dave bends down and places a gentle kiss on your forehead. He lingers for a moment, relishing in the warmth of your skin on his lips and the scent of your shampoo in his nose. After pulling away, he sees a soft smile splayed on your face, telling him that his gesture was well-received. Still, as he walks away, hand soothing a tight muscle in his neck, he can’t help but feel like he crossed a line.
“Dave…,” you quietly call before he can reach the door, your voice sweet yet sad.
He stops in his tracks, realizing it was the first time you had ever spoken his first name, and fuck, it sounded so good coming from your lips. Placing a hand on his hip, he slowly turns toward you.
“Yeah? What, uh-” He swallows, hoping you don’t realize that something so simple is affecting him so much. “What is it?”
“Stay with me tonight? Please?” you plead, the longing in your voice unmistakable.
Dave isn’t one to turn mushy at much of anything these days, but you asking him to stay makes him melt. He can barely remember a time when Carol made him melt like this.
There’s a whole list of reasons he should say no, should gently decline and retreat into his pit of despair…
But it is too damn tempting to stay.
“Of course, baby. Whatever you need.”
With your head softly nuzzling his chest as he holds you, he gets the best sleep he’s had in months.
⇻ pairing: Taehyung x FemaleReader. SugarDaddy!Tae. Dom!Tae.
⇻ synopsis: Taehyung and Vogue work abroad for his next photoshoot, but he uses this longtime break he is also in to bring his well known friends on this trip overseas into the French landscapes. The reader, happily taking this chance to spend more time with him, enjoys a well deserved vacations by being tied on Taehyung's bed.
⇻ tags: minors dni. smut, fwb, SugarDaddy!Taehyung, dom!tae, light bondage, weekend getaway, cunnilungus, multiple orgasms (female receiving), vaginal fisting, light BDSM tones, crack!fic tbh there's a few jokes.
⇻ words: 4.3k.
⇻ links: ao3.
⇻ a/n: lmfao hello again. I'm back posting fics, not sure if I'll ever manage to post all my other old fics here on Tumblr but they are all up on ao3 if you guys were ever interested. Anyways, here is my next fic, it's not that long so hopefully you guys enjoy! I enjoy comments and reblogs a lot, my ask box is open :)
Sunlight filtered through the trees above your head, casting shadows around him like the sun took out a brush and carefully flicked its wrists on the fallen leaves around you both. You hated it. How he didn't need to lift a finger and the whole universe would simply arrange itself to flatter him so.. He was a natural type of beauty, an ethereal one at least. Everything seemed to be for the purpose of exalting his beauty; the honey colour of his skin, the dark curls of his permed and dyed again hair, sitting on top of a bench and showing off the toned physicality of his back.
And if thy right eye offends thee, pluck it out, and cast it from thee: for it is profitable for. thee that one of thy members should perish, and. not that thy whole body should be cast into hell. Matthew 5:29.
The devil could take you down to hell himself and hellfire would not be enough to burn out the desire that clawed at your throat. But this was not the time, or the place for any of that. You could keep thirsting for Taehyung somewhere else, where he didn’t catch you with drool dripping down your chin or with a serious case of “fuck me” eyes whilst there were people around.
After all, you were just friends, friends that occasionally fucked in unconventional positions (and spots). His buddies were busy photographing him in all his glory for the millions of followers he had on instagram, each one getting off and lusting over him as much as you did.
Although, unlike those faceless followers, he actually knew you. And you’d know each other whilst he was still training to be the superstar he has become today.
“Has anyone ever told you how easy you are to read?”, you got caught off guard by Wooshik. Grinning cheekily, he raised his iced americano and sipped some from his straw.
“Has anyone ever told you how you can be a dick?”
“Struck a nerve there, huh? Don’t worry you aren’t the only one, I think at least Jennie and Hyungsik seriously reevaluated on staying behind on this overseas trip.”
“Whatever,” you scoffed, “unlike them he actually scheduled it so that we were both free from work to hang out and travel,”
Wooshik laughed, interrupting you, “that’s cause you’re practically his sugar baby.”
“Shut it, I paid for a few things.”
“Like the clothes I brought here, jackass, mind your own business.”
“Agent Provocateur doesn't count!”
“Jesus, how much does he tell you?”
“What are you guys arguing over now?” Taehyung walked back up the path, still shirtless but with a brown cardigan offering a slutty view of his chest. You tried not to stare but failed.
“How bad you’re spoiling our shortie here.”
“I’m not spoiled!”
Tae laughed, leaning closer to you and wrapping his arm around your shoulder. He leaned close, his breath ghosting over yours as he cocked and eyebrow up and smirked. “Does my favourite girl need more attention? Should we share the airbnb room tonight?”
Damn him. Your whole face flushed beet red, eyes shooting wide as you tried not to stutter or stumble on your words. “I-I, You- You should s- I don’t–”
“Save it for tonight Romeo, we still have two more hours on the road before we get to the cabin.”
Taehyung smirked, leaning down and kissing your nose quickly before heading back to the car, his security detail still standing a few feet away. “I’m driving,” he announced, “Y/N, take shotgun so you can spot the cows we see on the road.”
Your eyes lit up, pushing past Wooshik and heading straight towards the grey Hyundai, sitting on the front seat and excitedly clicking the seatbelt on. You could hear Taehyung laughing, his loud square smile ever present as he patted Wooshik's back and told his other friends how you’d go ahead from everyone else.
“Marselle is quite pretty this time of the year,” Taehyung started as he moved the side mirrors, starting the engine before driving off.
You reached out for the aux cord, connecting it with your phone and sorting through one of the shared playlists you had with Tae. “It’s not as cold as I thought it would be, actually, oh, do you think we can get some matcha around here?”
“Maybe, there’s quite a few cafés but I don’t think I can order one with my shitty French,” he laughed, punching the airbnb address onto the navigation system.
“Nothing my crummy B1 certificate and google translate can’t fix, it’s been working since we got here.”
Tae laughed, glancing at you quickly before focusing on the road, “the waiter from last night’s restaurant disagrees.”
“Okay, whose fault is it that I was in flip flops and a sundress at a fucking french high cuisine restaurant.”
“You didn’t have to bring the google lady out”
“I can’t even pronounce hor d'oeuvres! How was I expected to successfully communicate!?” you demanded.
Taehyung laughed even more, Michel Buble starting to play in the background as you both bickered. It was fun to spend time with Taehyung like this. Before his group’s hiatus he barely had enough time to go out and meet for coffee. Granted, neither one of you liked coffee, and instead opted for green tea matcha lattes. It was one of your first bonding points, before you both realised how fond you were with jazz and movies. Studying art, living for beauty, that was one of the biggest traits you both shared.
Then, of course, came the sexual chemistry, but that’s for another time. Right now, you were incredibly engrossed with each other, his hand moving from the steering wheel and holding your knee in a caring and reassuring way, pointing out whenever he saw a cow so you could take out your phone and spam your friend’s with pictures of them. It reminded you of your own car trips when you were a child.
“Did your mom text you today?”
You glanced back at him, raising an eyebrow inquisitively, “no… did she text you?”
“Yeah, she said you don’t call her as often lately.”
“God, since when are you friends with my mother?”
He smirked, “since you answered that facetime call and I was shirtless in the background.”
Your face grew hot, you could even feel the tips of your ears get warmer out of embarrassment, “let’s not talk about my mother right now.”
“Well, we can talk about my mother then,” he grinned.
You glanced back at him, his hand squeezing your thigh before leaving to push his sunglasses up the bridge of his nose. “What about your mother?”
“She invited you for Christmas this year, if you aren’t spending it with your family of course-”
“I’d love to come,” you interrupted.
He smiled. “Great.”
The airbnb was better than you expected. But when it came to Taehyung and his taste you could only ever expect decadence. A palazzio; bubbling champagne in small glass flutes; a box of chocolate splayed over a duck feather comforter; rose and sweet scented candles. He was a romance and beauty corporeal.
A thing of beauty is a joy for ever:
Its loveliness increases; it will never
Pass into nothingness; but still will keep
A bower quiet for us, and a sleep
Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing. from Endymion, J. Keats.
It was no time to quote the English poets but Keats had an eye for beauty you couldn’t ignore, and right here, right now, you were drunk off the view of everything around you.
Your balcony overlooked a rose garden, but as it was approaching the colder months of the year, instead of blossoming buds of red and pink you saw the deep green bushes surrounding a pond, the statue of lovely Eros and Psyche embracing each other, his wings like cupid spread out behind him. The bushes rushed around the pond like a labyrinth, twisted and confusing, with the autumn leaves falling in splashes of mahogany and burnt orange.
The sun, still, was high upon the sky, its rays peeking through the trees and drawing the earth in lovely shadows. Your luggage was still open, clothes spread out on your twin bed whilst you searched for the cameras you packed the night before. Engrossed with the settings of your latest birthday present you failed to notice Taehyung walking inside the room. The gentle rape of his knuckles agains the doorframe..
So he stayed there, transfixed with your task, a cigarette hanging off his lips. Looking up at him only once the smell of it registered, smiling and leaving the camera on the bed as you walked near.
He sucked on the cigarette, cherry bright red before blowing the smoke behind his shoulder, just in time for you to lean up, arms around his neck.
“You know I don’t like kissing you after you smoke.”
“I’ll brush my teeth,” he grinned, leaning down his lips brushing against your own, the smell of cigarette becoming a turn on whenever he was this close to you, “I’ll floss and everything.”
“You better,” you replied, leaning up on the tip of your toes and capturing his lips with your own as he took the cigarette out of his mouth.
It was like dancing, Tchaikovsky and his No. 14 pas de Deux. At one point he leaned down and scooped you into his arms, your legs fitting perfectly around his waist as he walked both of you back to his room. The taste of tobacco and smoke lingered still in his tongue and muddled all your other senses, only breaking back into clarity when he dropped you back in his bed.
Assaulted by the smell of clean linen and a cold breeze passed through his open window. Your hands reached up, searching for the angle of his jaw and to pull him closer against you, but instead he simply clasped your hands, bringing it to his lips and kissing it sweetly. You leaned up on your elbows, watching him retreat back to where his bags were propped.
Watching him, moved as if at home with the place he rented, the big mirror facing the bed captured the concentrated look of his brown as he looked through his things.
You, impatient as ever, turned around and looked over the mess of his bedsheets, picking up what appeared to be a pair of brown leather shorts.
“Will I get to see you wearing this today?”
Taehyung glanced back, laughing softly and turning back to the task at hand, “I fear you won’t see me in any clothes for the rest of the day.”
“I’m more than fine with that.”
He kept rummaging, and you turned over to look more through the things he had left scattered, picking up what seemed to be a letter. You couldn’t read a word of it, seeing as he had written in hangul, but you looked over the fancy blue ink, and liked how it didn’t look like the chicken scratch that Hoseok’s handwriting tended to be.
Down, at the bottom of said letter, Taehyung had drawn a silly cartoon of a tiger climbing a tree. This fact made you laugh aloud, enough to have your lover turn around and loudly explain that it was private, to give it back.
“I can’t even read it! What does it say?”
“I’m not done with it yet.”
“But what does it say?” you insisted.
“It’s just something I do with my dad, ok? It’s more fun.”
“Oh, so the big celebrity has travelled to ye-old-times?” you tease.
He couldn’t help but laugh, finding whatever it was that he was looking for and turning around holding out the white silk cloth in front of you.
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
“Well, actually, it’s more for us,” said Taehyung, walking back to the bed and making you drop the piece of paper in your hand.
“What does it do?”
“You’ll see,” he continued, leaning down and kissing you once more.
You groaned, biting back down on his lip aware that he liked it and just slowly making out with him as he led you back down on the bed.
He laid you gently, comfortably between the pillows, and started to take off your clothes slowly. His mouth follows and kisses every new patch of exposed skin. Down your neck as you let your hair down, shirt off and mouth nipping and licking on the newness of your exposed collarbone. Your shoulders, the hollow of your neck, down your sternum as his hands expertly unhooked your bra and gently dropped it on the bed.
He moved down your body, kissing the moles on your body and only stopping to take off his own white shirt. You grinned, loving the warm honey tone of his skin, hands caressing the side of his arms. But he stopped, glancing at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes and pinning your hands back up above your head.
“What’s the matter?” you asked, breathing already laboured from kissing him, from feeling him, you needed him badly.
“You can’t touch me tonight.”
“Ha ha, very funny.”
He raised an eyebrow, giving you a funny face that only made you start laughing for real. With one hand he easily grasped both of yours, and quickly shifted his weight to reach for the piece of white silk he had gathered from his luggage.
Now that you had a better look of it, you noticed the silver hoop that held both pieces of fabric together. And then it clicked, and you just stared at him as he concentrated and slipped the hoop above you in the headboard, both your wrists being tied neatly in the white silk to keep them high above you.
“You’re getting kinky, honey.”
“It was bound to happen sooner or later.”
“Really? Then what else are we trying today?”
Taehyung hummed, checking your wrists were safely snug and then reaching under your pillow. From there, a big purple dildo.
You bursted out laughing, both of you did. His eyes crinkling and reaching to wipe a tear and kissing the side of your face until you thought of a very uncomfortable thing.
“Wait, you aren’t putting that up my ass.”
“And I’m not going to, doubt you prepped for anal.”
“Good… Just checking…”
“I wouldn’t do something like that without talking about it first.”
“Then what are these handcuffs?”
“You said you wanted to try it, and also how you wanted me to fist you and somehow rip your heart out from your pussy.”
Your cheeks grew red, your friends had definitely betrayed you. “Wait, so, I’m getting fisted?”
“I’m thinking about it, the dildo is just to help you stretch a bit while I warm you up.”
“How am I getting warmed up?” you grinned, wanting to know everything before it actually happened as your heart was racing against your chest, aroused but deadly nervous to this entire thing. You were small, and much, much, smaller than Taehyung at that.
He smiled coyly, his voice honey-sweet, “that’s a surprise.”
But you had no second to think about it, with him moving down and crashing his lips on yours. He kissed you hard, drunkenly, biting and nipping on your lips before slipping his tongue inside your mouth.
He muffled out all your moans, eyes screwed shut in pleasure and tugging on the cuffs wanting to touch him as your body leaned up to kiss him back.
You didn’t like being submissive, you tended to like more taking control of the situation, but it was in moments like this, and specifically under Taehyung’s (haha) influence that you melted like butter. He guided and moved you every which way, your mind barely registering how he took off your pants and underwear, not noticing he had grabbed lube until he broke the kiss.
A string of saliva still connected your mouth, your tongue poking out of your mouth and licking it back while looking at him. A true picture of beauty and desire, his hair falling right over his eyes, only the coy smile of his visible as he squirted lube on his fingers and on the purple toy.
You gasped, his fingers cold to the touch and making your toes curl as he pressed his fingers against your clit.
Not being tied at the ankles, you comfortably spread your legs wider, giving him enough space to look at what he was doing, making him chuckle at how eager you were getting. “You’re getting wet,” he said.
You simply moaned, eyes closing in pleasure and sinking down into the bed whilst he touched you, a small gasp leaving your lips as you felt his fingers pressing down against your entrance and pushing in.
Your hips shifted down, making him reach deeper inside you and making you shiver in pleasure.
But just as quickly his fingers left, making you open your eyes to complain and just gasping as he pushed the dildo inside you, back arching and grunting as you accommodate to its size, which was not that far off from Taehyung’s to begin with.
“That’s my good girl.”
Flushing, you peaked an eye at him, “you’re enjoying this.”
“We both are Y/N”
You cursed as he used your name, he knew it made your knees go weak, and currently he was making your entire lower body weak.
Honestly you had no idea what he was planning, which made this all even more unnerving, gasping once you felt his warm mouth on your clit, sucking and flicking it harshly with his tongue before pressing the flat of it against the bundle of nerves. He was giving you head and penetrating you at the same time, go figure. Taehyung managed to do the two things he liked best at the same time somehow.
You gasped, moaned, pulling down harshly on the handcuffs as you felt warmth building in the pit of your stomach, Taehyung slowly moving the toy in and out of you as he concentrated his mouth on making you unravel.
And unravel you do, your lower body tingling and making your breathing more laboured as he elicited the most lewd and wettest sounds from you. The squelches of your arousal and his saliva mixing together and echoing in the empty room as you cursed out his name.
“C-Close,” you gasped out, the silk burning on your wrist as you tugged and squirmed underneath him.
Tae leaned back, his chin shiny with your arousal, the dildo still thrusting in and out of you which had your toes curling, “cum for me,” he said, voice raspy with want.
Your vision blurred, back arching off the bed as you cried out his name, completely forgetting you would be sharing this airbnb with a few other people and screaming as loud as you could.
Taehyung helped you ride it all out, grinning widely as he saw your body jump and twitch from his touch, doing as he wanted whenever he commanded, and slowly slipping out the dildo as you calmed down.
But even whilst you were recollecting yourself, his fingers slipped in and replaced the toy. You grunted, feeling spent but glancing back at him you got only more aroused by the glint in his eyes.
“You’re so wet for me.”
“S-Shit, are you seriously going to-”
“Yes,” he interrupted, fingers curled and pressing against your spot making you moan again. He was slow, careful and methodical with his approach. Reading the way you reacted and sticking to what made you moan the loudest, shift your hips closer to his hand.
He stopped, used more lube, and started again. You came again. And he kept persisting until he was closer. You, on the other hand, were sweaty, weak, and had seen God at least twice already with how violently Taehyung made you cum.
And he felt big, bigger than usual, four of his fingers inside of you and you groaned and complained, with him stopping and checking with you every two seconds.
“How are you holding up, darling?”
“G-Good, fuck, so good Christ you’re big.”
He laughed softly, moving slowly, letting you accommodate, and went down to his forearm, “I’m going to do it now love, that ok?”
“P-Perfect, I won’t last.”
But taehyung stopped for a second, worrying you, “d-did something happened,” you glanced back at him, just to notice him inches away from you, mouth crashing on yours and muffling out any moan.
You melted more against him, complete putty for him to shape and mould out to his heart’s desire. The kiss lasted only a few seconds, felt him with his clean hand brush a few of your hairs away from your face and kiss your temple. Moving back down and counting softly before he slipped his hand out and pushed his fist inside you.
Without a second thought you came, your back arching and groaning at the first discomfort of this position and just screaming at how full you felt. How filled with him. The lines blurring inside your head, no longer sure where he began and you ended, and instead, you simply felt the entirety of him eveloping you whole.
His warmth, the weight of his body over you, the musky clean smell of his sweat, and just how lovely his voice was. Full of praise, encouraging you as you came down from your high, slowly moving and eyes bright and drunk with pleasure.
And just as soon as that, he slipped his hand out, sticky and smelling like you as he cupped your face once more and tilted your head up for another greedy kiss.
Lips smacking, tongue searching inside your mouth, and vibrating with his groan as you lazily responded back. The tips of your fingers tingled before he reaches up and lets your hands free.
They fell down in a thud, with you feeling heavy as lead but light as a feather, only leaning up to pull Taehyung’s body closer and grinding down against the fabric of his pants, leaving a wet streak of your arousal on it.
“Y/N, Love,” he laughed, leaning back, “give a second I should take my pants off-”
“Yes, do that,” but instead of letting him go you pulled him back to you, kissing his mouth, down to his chin and biting on his neck hard enough to make him wince.
But Taehyung moaned, turned on even more by the pain and with a heavy clink of his belt he was pushing his trousers and boxers out of the way. You wanted him, still intoxicated with the feeling of his skin as you made use of having your hands back to yourself to dig your nails on his shoulder blades and drag them down his back.
Taehyung responded just as quickly, head tilting to the side as you marked him yours and reached out for a condom, shifting himself to be perfectly on top as your legs wrapped around his waist.
You were weak, on a cloud, leaving a red bite mark on his perfect chest before he gripped on both your wrists and pinned them once more above your head with a single hand. You groaned, turned on by his show of strength, and whimpered out a pathetic sound that resembled his name as he entered you.
It was hard, tortuous, and you couldn't stop screaming even if they paid you.
Neck exposed he left a constellation of hickeys and kisses on your skin, his hips snapping against yours in a way that was going to definitely cripple you by next morning.
He squeezed your wrists tighter, the sharp sting of it making you tighten around him and made him stutter in his pace. You laughed, leaning up and biting on his lip, dragging it between your teeth and hearing him take a shaky breath before he snapped his hips harder. Effectively shutting you up.
And he continued like that, the old bed starting to shift with you both, headboard hitting the wall and echoing the thumps of his cock inside you as you felt your orgasm coming.
Taehyung’s laboured breath just egged you on, leaning up and kissing his neck and shoulders, biting down on his shoulder and making him moan loudly.
“F-Fuck, please, be close.”
“I-I am,” you gasped.
“Cum, fuck I want to feel you around me,” Taehyung’s voice was breezy, almost whiny, like he couldn’t hold on for longer. And how could you stop yourself when he sounded so desperate while simultaneously destroying you?
Stars was an understatement of what you saw when you finished. Colours and blurs of light mingled together, you might as well have passed out for a second with how violently you came. And he came just as hard, letting out a loud moan mixed in with what seemed to be your name.
He collapsed on top of you, his sweaty chest flush against yours. Neither one of you moved, just feeling him grow soft inside you without any intention of leaving.
You moved your arms around him, hugging him and fingertips slowly brushing over the scratches you had left on his back. You protested when he moved to get up, with you only letting go once he kissed you swiftly.
He walked back up to the bathroom, his cute ass all perky as he discarded the condom and came back with a wet towel, the mess underneath you becoming a problem for another day.
“Remember you have to pee.” Taehyung only wiped you clean, glancing back at you with a princely smile.
“Please, let’s not talk about me getting an UTI, I want to cuddle.”
“I’ll carry you to the toilet and I’ll hug you while you pee.”
“Okay I’ll take that.”
He laughed again, leaning back to you and kissing the tip of your nose before picking you up and cradling you in his arms. “Oh, that reminds me.”
Okay , onto my Frank request then! Being Frank’s friend and he’s all over the place but he’s attentive when it comes to you . He makes sure you’re okay and looks out for you . One night , he’s driving you to your place . He pulls you close in the front seat , cuddling his side while he’s holding a cigarette and driving with the other hand. When he stops at a red light , he turns to you to tell you how beautiful you are . One thing leading to another , you’re making out and when you reach your house , he’s picking you up by the back of your thighs and carries you inside . He makes you scream that night and then you fall asleep on his chest . But when you wake up , you’re in an empty bed . You’re so upset , thinking Frank treated you like any other girl he takes home for the night . You’re crying and you don’t hear the door opening or a worried Frank rushing to your side after picking up breakfast
18+ minors dni
Oh this sexy menace? Fuck yes.
Frank x f reader
"I don't ca-
Franks eyes grew wide, grabbing the phone from his friend to answer his call; he usually lets it go to voicemail but never with you.
"Hey peanut, you okay?"
"Mhm, m'fine" You slur out and he's on his feet making his way to his car. You said you were having a girls night and at least it sounded like you enjoyed yourself.
"Where are you right now"
He comes and grabs you, smirking when you stumble out of the club, right into his arms. He carries you to his car and buckles you in, you have a goofy grin plastered on your face and he's definitely taking a few pictures to tease you with for later.
Once he reaches your place, he has you in his arms again, chuckling at the way you cling onto him while he carries you to your room. He carefully removes your lashes and does his best to take off your makeup. He slips you into one of his shirt's you've stolen, tucking you into bed before crashing on the couch just in case you get sick in the middle of the night.
He knows he can be a bit of a mess but not when it comes to you, not his favorite little peanut.
“I told you it was good” You sass, while Frank shakes his head, taking another drag of his cigarette, driving you home. “Just admit it”
“Fine, it was okay”
“It was more than okay!” You poke his arm, the both of you coming back from a movie you had insisted on going to. If anyone else had told him to go, it would have been a hard no, but for you? He was at your door within minutes. That didn’t mean he wanted to admit it was actually a good movie.
You continue rambling on about the movie, which makes him smile. Everything about you makes him smile. Your voice. Your smile. The way your nose crinkles when you laugh. He takes another long drag of his cigarette, he can’t stop the way his mind is racing; you’re so beautiful and sweet. You’ve been the most consistent person in his life, you’ve been there for him in more ways than he can count. You’re stopped at a red light and he can’t even stop the words tumbling out of his mouth.
You roll your eyes, you were not new to Frank’s flirting, this was nothing new.
Hm. He never used your name. You gasp, feeling his arm pull you closer to him, making him look at you. “You’re so beautiful...”
Your face is near his, you can feel your skin heating up with each passing second. He leans in slightly and before you can stop yourself, your lips smash onto his. His tongue slips past your lips, his fingers tugging your hair gently, as if something he had contained for ages was finally releasing.
You moan, feeling his lips trail down to your neck, whining in protest when he has to reluctantly pull away after the light changes. There's only a few more blocks till you get to your place, but you’re more desperate than ever.
As soon as he pulls up to your drive way, he’s ran around to the passenger seat before you can even unbuckle yourself. He easily lifts you to wrap around his waist, your thighs hugging onto him tightly and his lips are on you again, heading straight to your room.
“Y/n, give it to me baby, just one more sweet heart, c’mon”
Sweat is beading at his forehead, his cock fucking in and out of you, he wants to cum so badly but not until you cum one more time for him. His hands are toying with your clit the other holding your waist while he gazes down at you. His lips are brushing against yours while he rolls his hips, the tip of his cock hitting your g-spot each time.
He’s already made you cum twice (the benefit of being friends, you’ve told him what you like and he definitely paid attention during that conversation). The sheets are damp, your mixed arousal dripping out of you, making a mess everywhere. Its sloppy and desperate, pent up tension between you both reaching an all time high.
“F-FR-ANK” you cry out, clenching and squeezing around his cock, your orgasm right on edge. Tears are prickling your eyes, pleasure is surging through your body, because of him. Your walls and fluttering and you can feel his cock throb.
“Cum with me baby, milk my cock, you feel so good baby-fuck-can’t hold it”
“I-fuck-I’m CUMMING” You cling onto him, your pussy making it impossible for him to hold off any longer, he can feel your slick gush out of you and he’s only going to fill you back up.
“Gonna cum so hard for you y/n, FUCK” You can feel his warmth fill you up, his pace unrelenting trying fuck you through your high.
You can barely move afterwards, hardly able to feel the warm wash cloth between your legs. You feel his arms wrap around you to pull you into him; he places your head onto his chest. He’s cradling your head, gently stroking your hair while you fall asleep, you’ve never felt so complete.
The bedside his empty.
His clothes are gone.
You don’t see his wallet anywhere.
You should have known. You were no different. You knew exactly who he was last night, he’d shown you who he was time and time again. Why did you believe you were any different.
Maybe because you actually loved him.
You thought he maybe felt the same.
You curled into a ball, tears streaking your face as you cried, your face buried in your knees. You didn’t even hear the door open, crying harder when you thought about all the times you wished he was yours.
"Peanut? Hey, hey baby" He rushes over to your side, immediately pulling you into his lap. His heart is beating out of his chest, he’s hardly ever seen you cry, mostly because he’s always there to stop the tears before they even start.
"Baby what’s wrong"
"I-” You stop yourself from speaking, your skin heating up while he brushes your hair away from your face waiting for you to answer. You feel can’t bring yourself to tell him why your upset, not wanting him to think you’re clingy, especially if there's nothing more here. He looks terrified, wondering if he hurt you or if you felt pressured into doing something you didn’t want in the first place, he’d never live with himself if he hurt you.
"Baby? Did I do something wro-
"No!" You bite your lip, worried about telling him more. "I-I thought you left" You whisper, looking down at your lap, refusing to look at him.
"No sweet heart, I just went to grab us something to eat, thought you'd like those waffles from the diner" He’s rubbing soothing circles on your back, pulling you to lay on his chest, just like he did the night before. "Why would I leave you"
You shrug, not wanting to tell him you thought he saw you like every other girl he takes home, fearing that really was how he saw you.
"I'd never leave you peanut"
You snuggle into his chest, still feeling unsure. He wraps his arms around you, his lips brushing your forehead. He’s thought about this moment 100 times over, and nothing compares to how perfect you feel, sitting against him.
“You promise?” You whisper, smiling softly when he tips your chin to look up at you.
“Baby, if you haven’t pieced it together already-
He hesitates. He might had said this haphazardly in the past before but this is real. He means it. He doesn’t want to screw this up.
“I love you”
You blink up at him, gasping when he comes down to kiss you, the sweetest softest kiss anyone's ever given you. He stays with you the whole day. Many days. and nights. and you’re always safe. you’re always loved. in his arms.
Ill probs write this soon but rn I'm working on my art project almost done
so what if i do a fic where morpheus' lover has been missing for over a century. he came back from his imprisonment to only be told that they've been missing for 100 years. Lucienne tells him that they left to go search for him but haven't been see since.
hes constantly seeing a black cat in the waking world. running over towards him and nuzzling their head against his leg. a stray cat he found and gives them warm milk using his powers and occasionally pets them.
It isn't until during his meeting with Death she picks up the black cat holding them in her arms, and hands them to morpheus causing the cat to purr.
"why're you giving me this cat?"
Death: "are you really that clueless?"
morpheus: "I'm not clueless its a cat."
Death: "that cat has been following us since the park. They've been all over you."
morpheus: "so that cat likes me."
Death: "look at the cats eyes."
Morpheus does so and sees the same [e/c] of his lover whos been missing. "y/n?"
cue the cat meowing and nuzzling their head against his. and then cut to morpheus trying to figure out how to turn them back into their human form.