#the sandman x child reader
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Mr. Blue
Warnings: Mention of Lucifer, let me know if I missed any :)
Pairings: Morpheus x child reader
*not my gif*
Summary: Morpheus is being moody- as usual- when someone with the complete opposite of his personality comes along
A/N: I really enjoyed writing this
Please don’t plagiarize my work, you may reblog if you like but I’m asking that you don’t steal my hard work
Dream of the Endless tossed another chunk of bread to the ground before him with a sigh, unwilling to let his eyes travel beyond the birds of the park to the arrogant and obnoxious humans beyond, ruining any chance he could have of peace and quiet in that place.
Pigeons, crows, and ravens alike fed happily on the food he was tossing to them, oblivious of their feeders fowl mood.
It was not until the sound of tiny footsteps appeared next to him, that Morpheus finally glanced away from the winged creatures.
You looked up at him with wide eyes and an even wider smile as you plopped down on the bench next to him, giving a couple inches of space between you two.
He scowled, moving his body farther away from you along the bench and angling himself so you were facing his back. But that didn’t even seem to make a slight dent in your mood.
“Hi, Mr. Man!” You greeted cheerfully, the way that all five year olds like you were expected to talk.
His head turned around and he gave you a slight glare, “Go away, child.” He hissed.
You only giggled up at him in return, “Whatcha doin’?”
A frown formed on his face, normally humans would have run away screaming just by the tone of his voice and the look on his face by then.
“Feeding the birds.” It was said very bluntly, and quite honestly, in a rude way.
“Well, duh!” You exclaimed, rolling your eyes teasingly, beginning to kick your legs back and forth because they couldn’t quite reach the ground yet, “But why?”
“Because they’re hungry.”
“Yeah, but why do you do it?” You pushed, eyes trained on your dirty blue sneakers.
“I don’t know.” He snapped, “Now, go run off to your parents and annoy them instead.”
His eyes had already begun sweeping the park for any signs of adults looking for a particularly annoying child who had escaped from their grasps and slipped away to terrorize some random man’s life.
You ignored him, as if he hadn’t spoken at all, and instead you continued on, “I’m Y/n, by the way! What’s your name? Is it Blue? ‘Cause you have really pretty blue eyes, Mr.”
He blinked once. Twice. Then three times down at you in surprise, “Oh.” Was all he said, his face subconsciously softening the slightest bit from its hard look.
“Heads up!” A random voice suddenly called above all the other loud ones, not giving the dream lord a chance to answer you, and causing both your heads to snap up just in time to see a volleyball flying straight for your head.
Without even thinking, Morpheus snapped his arm out directly in front of you, and caught the ball one handed seconds before it could hit you.
Your eyes had squeezed shut and you had stiffened while bracing for impact, only to peel them open slowly when you realized that you had not in fact been hit.
“Geez, thanks Mr!” You called up to him with your signature wide grin, but he wasn’t even looking at you.
He was too busy glaring harshly at the man who had almost injured you. And if looks could kill… that man would be having tea with Lucifer right about then.
“O-oh, sorry man!” He quickly apologized, stumbling over his words nervously, afraid to come close enough to get his ball back.
The dark haired one threw it harshly back at him, with too much force to be normal for a human, nor casual enough to not be caring that you almost got hurt.
“Just don’t let it happen again.” He growled in a warning clear as day.
“Y-yeah. Sure, man! Whatever you say!” The man quickly took stumbling steps away before retreating from Morpheus’s vision all together. A wise decision.
“Are you okay?” Your voice brought him out of his thoughts.
Once again, he couldn’t help but look down at you in shock, “You were the one that almost got hit, and you are asking if I am okay?”
You shrugged a little bit, “You just seem kinda annoyed.”
He didn’t even know what to say- how to answer that. But before he could rack his brain for anything, you hopped down from the bench.
“Well, I better get goin’ Mr. Blue.” You stretched your hands above your head as if you had been sitting for hours.
He blinked at the nickname, but before he could say anything, you were already skipping off in another direction, “I hope you have fun feeding your birds!” You called before you too disappeared from his sight.
Morpheus sat there for a moment, frozen in silence, before he did something he hadn’t done in a long, long time. He smiled, a small and delicate smile at the little sunshine girl he had just met.
The Endless 🌌- None added to this taglist
#platonic#platonic imagine#x reader#the sandman netflix#the sandman x reader#sandman morpheus#morpheus x reader#Morpheus x child reader#Morpheus x reader platonic#child reader#dream x reader#dream x child reader#dream x reader platonic#dream of the endless#dream of the endless x reader#the sandman 2022#the sandman fanfic#the sandman x child reader
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Hello People!!
I'm feeling kinda goofy today so...
Here, I offer you with some...
✨RANDOM MOMENTS OF Y/N AND GRANDPA NORTH✨
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North : *Doing North stuff in his "office"*
Y/N : *comes in*
Y/N : North.
North : Yes?
Y/N : I just warn you that it's very muggy outside. So be careful.
Y/N : *leaves*
North : *processing the data*
North : OH DON'T TELL ME YOU SCATTERED ALL OUR MUGS ON THE FLO-
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Y/N : *chilling with Jack and Sandy*
North : *seems to be looking for them*
North : *spots Y/N and decides to be... A liiiittle mean*
North : Has anyone seen Y/N?
Y/N : *head perks(?)up*
Y/N : Am here!
North : Oh, poor Y/N... All cold and lost ... Where could they be?
Y/N : *adorable mad baby energy*
Y/N : AM RIGHT HERE, NORTH!!
Jack : *getting the gist of what's happening*
Jack : I dunno, haven't seen them in awhile...
Y/N : But you play with me few minutes ago?!?!
North : *Fake sad sigh*
Y/N : Wait... Does this mean..
Y/N : AM INVINCIBLE?!
Y/N : AM GONNA STEAL CANDY AND NORTH'S NO FIND OUT!!!
North : ...
North : Y/N DON'T YOU DARE!!
Y/N : Gotcha!
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Y/N : *making funny faces in the mirror*
North : You look stupid. Stop that.
Y/N : Well... I don't look ugly..
Y/N : *mumbles* unlike you
North : *huffs* I heard that
North : *mumbles* You little gremlin
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But at the end of the day...
North and Y/N : *sleeping while cuddling in each other*
Tooth : Even with the snarky comments they throw at each other... Their bond is still strong...
Jack : Y'know, it's almost adorable
Sandy : 🥺♥️✨✨
*Bunny walks in*
Bunny : Hey gu-
Bunny : ...Huh?
*GIF brought to you by Bunny being confused as to WHY THE HELL IS EVERYONE FUSSING OVER HOW NORTH IS HUGGING LITERALLY NOTHING*
-----------------------------–––––——————
#ROTG x Child!Reader#Random fun#Rotg x reader#North#Jack Frost#Toothiana#Bunnymund#Sandman#Child!reader#Y/N#Until next time#Peace✌️
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Ok, but what about Morpheus with a Angel Child?
A Lesson Of Tongues
Dream of the Endless & Angel!Reader
Summary: "You're saying it wrong, father." Dream makes a sound, "I was there when the language was mad-" "Then why are you saying it wrong?"
Word Count: >800
Warnings: fem!reader because i love girl dad!dream, im right!reader, youre wrong!dream, fluff, slice of life, typos, etc.
A/N: In my head, this child is the daughter of my pairing in 'Harbinger Of The Dusk' and 'holy' but you don't have to read it to understand this fic also LOL IM IMAGINING THIS GIF IS HIM JUST BEING SO DONE WITH HIS DAUGHTER HELP ASHFHAS HAHHAH also also the eyeliner T_T
Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @sloanexx @deniixlovezelda @shadow-pancake9
A small child with dark curls and shining skin walked through the halls of the library. She was wearing a dress that belonged to her mother, simply because she could, for mother was not present at the moment.
Her hair bounced on her shoulders and the way too big clothing, with way too long sleeves and way too long skirt, dragged across the floor as she carried a large book in her arms. Well, she could barely carry it.
She struggles to put the leather bound tome on the table, but after much fuss, she finally manages, finding a sudden strength in her grip. She sniffles as she grabs her dangling clothes and lifts them as she climbs up a chair. The chair she wanted to sit on was one that quite high off the ground, which was why she favored it. It made her feel like the princess she was. She struggles to get up, but after a while, finds again her strength and manages.
Once she sits down and turns to the book on the table, she catches sight of something important, someone important.
Uh-oh.
The King of the Dreaming stares at her with crossed arms. It was actually because of his power that the girl was able to place her book upon the table and to climb the chair without falling off. He would not say this though, so she would forever think it was by her own strength that she accomplished these things.
"Father," she mutters softly and slowly.
Dream nods, "daughter."
Suddenly, the feel of her mother's dress was burning her skin... or what it her father's gaze that was doing that?
"What are you wearing?" Dream asks.
The girl blinks, "hmm... a dress."
"Evidently," Dream uncrosses his arms, "who does it belong to?"
Dream knows angels cannot lie, or at least it goes against their nature to. But then again, she was only half angel. He tilts his head, awaiting a confession that still has not yet arrived. But then again, her Endless half would not make her deceptive either.
The girl decides to keep her silence.
A clever tactic, but not clever enough.
"I asked you a question," Dream presses, leaning on the table.
She decides to ignore him. She drags the book in front of her and opens it, "I don't wanna say."
Dream stills upon hearing the girl's words. Ridicule? In his own home?
He thinks if Desire were here, they'd laugh and love on the girl, encouraging her ways. He purses his lips tightly. Half Endless indeed.
The king decides to circle over to her, thinking his looming presence would coax out a what he wanted. It does not. She is rather undeterred.
Let's see how undeterred she'll be once he tells on her mother.
He finds himself examining the book she picked out. With but a glance, Dream immediately recognizes the script. It was a book about angles, written in the language of angels.
The girl goes through the book without sparing too much time. He gathers she is more interested in the pictures rather than the words.
She stops at a page that displays a picture of a glorious being, the Star of the Night, the child's mother. She smiles at it, rubbing the face of the illustration. Dream finds himself smiling as well.
In his fondness, the Endless begins to dictate the words on the paper. He speaks of the accounts the author made about the angel, his lover, and the girl turns to him upon hearing his words.
Dream continues to read the script, thinking his daughter was enjoying it. But then she waves her hands desperately and shakes her head.
"That's wrong!" she says.
Dream's words go dry.
The girl leans onto the table and points at the text, reiterating the words her father just spoke, though her finger was on the wrong side of the page. Upon speaking her people's language, she turns to Dream and says, "now you."
Dream is at a disbelief. Was this girl really correcting him?
The Prince of Stories narrates the words again, making more effort to sound more exact.
The angel girl is severely disappointed yet again.
"That's not how!" she says. She repeats the phrase he just said.
He cuts her off, "I assure you, child, I know how to speak the speech of your mother."
The girl disagrees and stands on the chair. Dream immediately reaches out for her, hands coming to her small back, securing her in place. He adjusts the drooping shoulder of her ill-fitting dress. Her soft hands come to his bony face. She repeats the words for him. Dream sighs.
The girl's father mimics her again, yet still she is not pleased.
"You're saying it wrong, father."
Dream makes a sound, "I was there when the language was mad-"
"Then why are you saying it wrong?"
Dream grunts and leans his forehead on his daughter, "you think yourself so wise little girl?"
The girl giggles at his attempts to intimidate her, registering his actions as affectionate gestures, which was why she threw her arms around him. Quite quickly she latches onto Dream and finds no more interest in the lesson she was giving him, "fly! Fly!"
Dare she demand things from the king after such insults?
"Fatherrrrrr!"
He sighs.
"At once, my love," he mutters and flies around the library.
#dream of the endless fanfic#dream & reader#dream of the endless fluff#the sandman fanfic#the sandman fluff#morpheus fluff#dream fanfic#dad!dream of the endless#dad!dream#dream & child!reader#dream x reader#dream of the endless x reader#papa bear!dream
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Not Here
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Dream of The Endless x Child/Teen Reader
Um... I don't know what this is. I was debating posting this so close to Father's Day but- screw it.
⚠️Warnings⚠️: Angst no comfort ig..., I guess child abandonment, I don't know if that's what you'd call it.
Read it and Weep
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"Sooo, you will never, ever, ever, ever leave me all by myself again?" Dream smiled down at his daughter as he brought their foreheads together as he replied.
"Never."
"Ever?"
"Ever."
"You promise?"
Y/n couldn't stop the smile from growing on her face as she watched her father firmly place a hand over his heart as though he were taking a proper oath (because he was) and repeated her words.
"I promise."
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A tear slipped from his eye and down his cheek as he relieved the memory.
That was nearly half a century ago. He made that promise only to leave the next day and never get back.
God, what must she think of him now?
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"He's going to come back." Lucienne said softly, peering over her glasses in that oh so librarian way.
"You say that a lot." Y/n groaned, she was tired of hearing the same thing day after day.
"I say it because it's true." She answered sternly. "Do you really think he would have just left the Dreaming alone? Left you alone?"
Y/n didn't respond
"Do you?"
After a good second she answered,
"I don't know." Punctuating it with a weak shrug of her shoulder.
Lucienne looked almost surprised- almost
"I would think you would have much more faith in him."
"Fifty years can wear someones faith down."
"He's your father."
"Yea? Then where is he?" She swept her hands around, gesturing at the disheveled library- no one else was there but them. "Not here, that's for sure."
"He told me, no, he promised me that he wouldn't leave me. He promised-" She choked out slumping into one of the library's dusty victorian chairs.
"Why wouldn't he come back? Why..." The words raspy as she tried to hold back the tears on her lashes, if she blinked they'd fall.
"I've known your father for as long as I remember," Lucienne started as she put a hand on Y/n's shoulder, giving it a slight squeeze. "And if there's one thing I know it's that he has never broken a promise on purpose. Ever."
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He has to get out, has to get back. Back to the Dreaming, back to his little darling.
Was she even little anymore?
It's been nearly a century now.
She probably hates him. But Could he blame her?
He dropped his head, and with a voice so quiet it wasn't even a whisper, he repeated the words he spoke once before, "I promise."
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#the sandman#dream of the endless#morpheus#dream#sandman blurb#the sandman x y/n#the sandman x you#the sandman angst#morpheus angst#x reader#x child reader#x you#x y/n#dream x reader#morpheus x child reader#Morpheus x child reader#fem child reader#dream of the endless fanfic#Morpheus#Dream#the sandman imagine
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The Miracle - Ch.2
Morpheus (Dream of the Endless) x reader (no gender/pronouns mentioned)
Summary: You set out to make Morpheus' dream come true and find some truths about yourself along the way.
Warnings: 18+ only, canon-typical magic, unprotected sex (reader penetration but no mention of what genitals they have to keep it gender neutral), magical child birth/creation, Daddy Dream - because I feel this should be a warning haha
WC: 2880
Ch.1 || Ch.2 || Ch.3 || Ch.4 || Ch.5 || Ch.6
When you arrived in The Dreaming with Morpheus, sleep had been elusive to him. Something dark in his past that he had yet to divulge had left a wound that was only just beginning to heal, but exhaustion ebbed away at him. Sleep had slipped through his fingers faster than the sand in his pouch. But as your bond grew and companionship had turned to love, he had found himself dreaming of more. Dreaming of more than the moment he was in, dreaming of a future. With you.
You couldn’t remember how long you had been in The Dreaming, possibly a year, possibly a century - you weren’t quite sure when time seemed relevant to the whims of his moods. It didn’t matter all that much either, there was no place you would rather be than where you were. The days weren’t burdens when you were with Morpheus, in a place that welcomed your gifts and gave you a freedom you had never felt, to be yourself.
The first glow of dawn cast the room in a golden hue and your tired eyes burned at the intrusion of light. You hadn’t been able to sleep, the need was there but you wanted to make sure nothing disturbed Dream, especially Mervyn with his constant intrusions about menial repairs.
You had kept the night watch at bay and watched Morpheus as he slept, half of his face buried into his pillow. No matter how hard he tried to fix his hair in the morning he would always have the same half flatter than the other because of that. You gently ran your fingers through the thick strands that defied gravity and a soft snore like a purr fell from his parted lips.
“Show me your dreams,” you whispered as you ran your finger down his cheek and along his jaw. “What is on your mind?”
Your eyes fluttered shut as you drifted into his hippocampus, melding with his imagination and watching through his eyes.
“…17, 18, 19, 20. Ready or not, here I come,” Morpheus called out to the silent library.
His footsteps were careful, knowing which planks creaked and which ladders squeaked. He passed Lucienne at her desk and raised his finger to his lips so she did not give his presence away.
It was a giggle that pulled his attention away from the librarian and he placed his hands on his hips, a false seriousness falling over his features.
“I could have sworn the stone gargoyle just laughed at me,” he mused aloud, Lucienne struggling to hide her growing smile.
The giggles grew and the dark velvet curtains behind the statue began to waver.
“Aha!” Morpheus exclaimed as he pulled the material aside. “Huh?”
A laugh behind him caught him by surprise and he spun to look at you and you saw yourself through his eyes. They quickly narrowed on you as he realised you had tricked him and he rushed forward, grabbing you around the waist and tossing you over his shoulder like a leaf on the breeze.
“I have a hostage…”
His baritone voice echoed across the vast library until a dark head of hair popped out behind the long aisle for every book of dreamers with names between Chase and Christopher.
“Save yourself!” you cried with a peel of laughter as Morpheus swatted your butt. “Run, baby.”
The child turned and disappeared deeper into the archives, their footsteps fading along with the dream. The bed felt cold as you returned to your body and wiped the tear that clung to your lashes. It was a beautiful dream. One you were desperate to make reality.
Reluctantly leaving your lover to his rest, you slipped from the castle and left the gates that protected the realm and Dream. The sigil in your hand warmed as the gates closed behind you and Death appeared looking as lovely as ever.
“My favourite miracle, to what do I owe this pleasure?” Death greeted with a warm smile, looking over your shoulder briefly. “Dream not with you?”
“He’s sleeping,” you answered and she nodded in understanding. “I actually called you here to ask a favour.”
Where The Dreaming arrived at a beach, the dreamers coming and going like the tide that washed upon the shore, heaven was a city in the sky. Hidden in the whitest clouds, the glint of its silver landscape gave a glimpse of what was to come when you broke the cotton soft cliff face. It was blinding.
Golden gates of ornate design separated you from the city beyond but it wasn’t the city that held your gaze but the patterns along the gate itself.
“Welcome home.”
The voice was a lullaby that soothed the soul and drew you to him, turning until you came to face the Creator himself.
“Home.”
You tasted the word on your tongue, remembering the lilac essence that seemed to saturate the very air you inhaled. With each deep breath you remembered more, walking these streets, climbing the gates despite Peter’s warnings not to. You had always been a reckless being, daring to go where you shouldn’t.
“This is my home,” you laughed. Your fingers traced the symbols on the gate, a different story to the gates of The Dreaming but a story nonetheless. “I am an Angel.”
Pale blue wings erupted from your back at the statement, ripping through the shirt you wore to fill your peripheral with the plume of feathers that layered over them.
God looked down at his hands clasped together and nodded solemnly. “You were.”
Pain lashed behind your eyes and you fell to your knees, pressing the heels of your palms against your temples as the feathers began to fall around you. It was the second time you had mourned losing your wings. You remembered it all.
“You surrendered yourself to become a miracle, it was the only way,” God said as he placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “You chose this.”
“I know,” you whispered, shrugging his hand from you as you rose on shaking legs. “I remember how you replaced a piece of me with yourself. That is why I have these gifts.”
His face gave nothing away, no tic, no emotion, and you knew you were right. Testing the theory, you told yourself you were still an angel and felt the shifts in the winds as they caught the renewed wings at your back. You closed your eyes and thought of the child from Morpheus’ dream and pictured them standing before you, dark hair like their father, eyes a replica of yours. But when you opened your eyes disappointment tore a hole in your chest.
“A miracle cannot birth another miracle, it is not the way these gifts work,” God said as he stepped away, towards the gates that began to open for him. “Do not ask it of me, I cannot give you what you desire.”
“Desire…”
Your eyes widened at the answer that was staring you in the face. Running to the clifface, you dove over the side and spread your wings. It was best not to overthink your next move, you would surely then realise just how bad it would be.
“Well, well, isn’t this a delightful surprise.”
A shiver climbed your spine at the sultry voice that welcomed you. Red lacquer, glossy and bold, covered every surface of Desire’s gallery - even the sparse furniture were the same vivid colour.
“Hello Desire.”
Their tail swished languidly behind them, the tip curling, beckoning you closer as they smiled dangerously. It was more a baring of teeth.
“I don’t recall inviting you here,” Desire purred as they rose from the chiase they had been lounging on. “And I don’t recall seeing those last time we met. A bit ostentatious don’t you think?”
Their taunting laugh had you gritting your teeth but you needed their help and it wouldn’t do well to insult Desire. Much.
“Is that jealousy I hear?” you teased with a smirk. “You’re not the only one with a flair for the bold.”
Your wings bled to red, matching the smaller decorative plume that they wore strapped to their back.
“So it would seem,” they sneered. “What is it you want? Grown bored of my brother after all these years? I suppose it wouldn’t be such a hardship for me to bed you, you do have nice eyes.”
“I have come to ask a favour,” you said as you pointed ignored their insult.
“You have been busy this morning,” they laughed, stepping closer until you could see yourself in the reflection of their eyes. “Favours here, favours there - what can you possibly offer someone like me?”
You tipped your chin back as your wings spread and a silver glow shimmered across them. “I am an Angel, Desire. There is no realm that can keep me out, no gate I cannot pass. I’m sure you will think of something.”
Their chest rose with a sharp intake of air and they turned away with a deep laugh that had your hackles rising. “You have yourself a deal. Tell me, darling, what is it you desire?”
Desire listened with a mocking smirk as you confessed to wanting a family with Dream but the smirk betrayed a sense of awe they felt when you said you had spoken to God but he hadn’t been able to help.
The silence was heavy as your tale brought you to where you were and Desire rested their head on their hand, contemplating.
“It can be done,” Desire finally said, reclining back on the chaise and draping a leg over the back. “Though it is not simple or painless. Are you sure my brother is worth it?”
Your fists clenched at your side and you pushed down the need to strike out in anger. “There is nothing I wouldn’t do to make him happy. Tell me what to do.”
Desire flipped back to their feet and stalked across the room, grabbing the ruby that hung around your neck and staring at you through the gem. “He has already given you a piece of himself.”
You tugged the necklace back, feeling the familiar warmth of the stone resting over your heart once again.
“Give him a piece of yourself,” Desire instructed. “When they are joined you will have your own little miracle. Now get out of my realm.”
You turned and stepped toward the edge of the gaping chest cavity that Desire resided in but their parting words left a pit of dread in your stomach.
“I'll be calling about that favour, darling.”
You spotted his dark silhouette the moment you stepped into the throne room, his eyes glowing in the dim light. It should have been daylight but the realm had gone dark when you passed the gates, not even the dragons dared to take the skies with the storm brewing overhead.
“You’re back,” Morpheus remarked quietly, as if he hadn’t believed you would.
“Of course, my lord, I have no plan on ever leaving you.”
“But you did.” He rose from his throne and his boots echoed heavily around the empty room as he made his way down the steps. “You left and I had no idea where you went, if you had been taken.”
His voice cracked and your heart shattered with it as you rushed up the stairs and crashed into his chest. Your wings wrapped protectively around him and his eyes fluttered shut as he buried his face in the crook of your neck and inhaled your scent he had missed.
“I had an inkling the first time I laid my eyes on you,” he whispered in your ear as his fingers gently stroked your wings that had returned to their natural colour of a clear sky on a winter's day. “Someone so beautiful could only be an angel.”
“I’m sorry that I worried you,” you apologised as knots tied in your stomach. “There was something I had to do.”
You pulled away and opened the hand that had been clutched behind his back. The wound was still healing, an angry red gash that was slowly knitting itself back together, but resting over the offering was a cerulean stone wrapped in a silver chain.
Every slight movement hurt your hand but the spilling of blood was worth the sacrifice to take a piece of yourself and create the stone you held out to Dream.
“So you will always have a piece of me with you,” you promised as you reached over his head and hung the chain, resting the stone over his heart.
His hand held yours over the stone and as he stared into your eyes, searing your very soul. “There is no greater gift I have or will ever receive.”
Dream pulled you back against his body and you sighed into his kiss as he devoured your very essence with the fervour of a starving man. You could taste his need for reassurance that you were still with him, that you had returned, and you gladly gave it to him. Your fingers buried into his hair and tugged the strands so his neck was bared to you, the thick veins and the rapidly thumping pulse begging you to graze your teeth over them.
“You will never be rid of me, Morpheus,” you promised as you disintegrated his clothes, your’s soon following. “I am yours for eternity.”
“As I am yours, endlessly.”
Dream pulled you down with him, need washing away all sensibility, responsibility, as he sat on the steps of his mighty throne room and pulled you onto his lap. Your wings shuddered and your head fell back with a cry of passion, his hands gripping your hips as he filled you, guiding you to take your pleasure.
Your mind was fragmented and fractured by what Dream could do to you, by what he gave to you. You collapsed against his chest as your orgasm threatened to break you completely and felt the racing beat of his heart drumming against yours. Heat spread across your skin in a wildfire and you screamed as you touched the epicentre, the stone.
An echo of your scream fell from Dream’s lips but you could do nothing to ease the pain as the two stones reached for each other. Tearing the ruby from your neck, it hit the cerulean stone and Dream tore it from him, the melded stones clattering to the floor as his armour poured over his body.
He positioned himself in front of you protectively as light burst from the stone that was quickly swelling and he frowned at the shape behind the glow. “It’s a creation…”
“No, Dream,” you whispered as tears pricked your eyes. “It’s a child. Our child.”
Dream hissed at the burns to his hands but persevered as he lifted the stone from the steps, the shape of a baby now clear as the glow began to fade and a warbling cry broke the silence.
A blanket softer than your feathers drifted into your hands and you carefully wrapped it around the precious baby girl with a head of dark hair looking as stunned at her arrival as her father.
“We never talked about this,” Dream murmured quietly as he gently rocked his daughter in his arms. “I didn’t think it was possible.”
“It seems I need to keep reminding people that there is nothing I wouldn’t do to make you happy,” you said with a smile as you wrapped your arms around him and your daughter, your family. “Anything is possible with a bit of hope.”
“Hope,” Morpheus smiled, breaking away from your shimmering eyes as tears began to fill his own. “Then that shall be your name, sweet child.”
“Oh, she is gorgeous, dear brother,” Death cooed as she stepped into the throne room.
Morpheus turned cold in an instant, placing her into your arms and stepping towards his sister. “You cannot have her.”
“Relax, she is blood of my blood, I just came to congratulate you both,” Death reassured him, her arms open as a sign of trust. “You of all people know best that Hope can never die.”
Stepping aside, Dream let Death pass and you handed the sleeping baby over safe with the knowledge that Hope would have the immortality of an Endless and an Angel flowing through her veins. Death drifted off, humming a tune to her niece as Dream pulled you into his embrace.
“Thank you.”
“You never have to thank me for this, I wanted this just as much as you did.” A mischievous glint intrigued him as you smiled and kissed his jawline until you reached his ear. “Now I get to call you Daddy.”
His loud laugh bellowed across the room and Death turned with a curious glance that he waved off. “It does have a ring to it. Lord Morpheus, King of Dreams, Daddy of the Endless.”
“There’s just one more title that’s more important than all the rest combined, Father of Hope.”
He spun you around and rested his chin on your shoulder as you both watched the sleeping baby being carried back to your waiting arms. His breath caught at the sight that he thought he would never see in the eternity he would live for.
“Father of Hope.”
Click here for chapter three.
#dream of the endless x reader#morpheus x reader#dream x reader#sandman fanfiction#child of the endless#dream of the endless#morpheus x you#dream x you#the sandman
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UPDATE
So I noticed I have a bunch of fics that I haven’t posted but are finished so I’ll just reread them once and then I’ll post them
btw if anyone has a request for the Umbrella Academy pls send them in bc I might be a bit obsessed at the moment and would really like to write something for them (platonically preferably)
So what I want to say is I guess that the Umbrella Academy Request are officially open now <3
And as always if you have any other requests I’m always glad to get them (that’s really why the requests are always open)
#update#x teen!reader#x teen#x reader#fics coming soon#the sandman#Corinthian#corinthian x child!reader#marvel#Deadpool x teen!reader#eddie brock x teen!reader#venom x teen!reader#tua#the umbrella academy#diego hargreeves#klaus hargreeves#five hargreeves#viktor hargreeves#ben hargreeves#luther hargreeves#allison hargreeves#Klaus hargreeves x reader#Diego hargreeves x reader#five hargreeves x reader#Ben hargreeves x reader#tua x reader#umbrella academy x reader#Star Wars#obi-wan kenobi#obi wan kenobi x padawan!teen
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Hey! This is my first time posting anything on tumblr, so bear with my weird formatting.
I always wanted to write, but I have to start somewhere to, y know, actually write.
So I’m gonna try writing fan fiction along with some of my original work, any critique or criticism is welcome!
Here’s what I’d write for:
• Genshin impact
• Detroit become human
• the owl house
• arcane
• Valorant
• the sandman
• marvel
• DC (mainly the bat family)
• Mha
And probably a lot more, so just suggest anything really. <3
Currently I’m a bit obsessed with the whole yandere trope, but feel free to suggest anything, as I get to practice different styles.😊
Fair warning: I’m probably not going to write any NSFW, since it’s a bit out of my comfort zone, but otherwise fire away!
Taking requests!
#valorant#arcane#the sandman#marvel#genshin impact#genshin headcanons#detroit become human#fanfic#yandere#yandere headcanons#yandere genshin imagines#yandere arcane#x reader#writing#mha#yandere mha#childe
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a/n : this man. knows how to drive one crazy hj ------------------------------------------------------
[ m. orter x fem reader ]
-------------------------------------------------------
" mind if I take that seat? " a voice you know all too well says beside you, you look up from stirring your drink to see orter.
" sure, " you said and a veil of awkward silence pours. orter took this as an opportunity to order a drink and another bottle for both of you. thanking him as he pushes up his spectacles.
" you approve of that mash kid? " orter takes a sip of his drink as he awaits your answer.
" he did play my game... as a divine visionary I guess its only fair I keep my end of the bet ? I suppose you can say I've given my full support in that non magic guy. " you cheekily smile.
" I can't believe you made him play hide and seek. were you even trying to make it hard? no less the toy plush you're using is the size of a child. " he points to your bear companion, sitting by your side.
" it had murderous intentions... nearly killed that freckle kid. " you can't help but try not to laugh at the memory, even making your bear turn to face orter.
he wasn't faze, only rubbing his head. ryoh, rayne and kaldo already approve of the boy. with you, that's almost half of the divine visionary approving the boy. maybe he should assassinate him in secret? would that make you cry? you do have a soft spot for people younger than you. sometimes putting shows and playing with random children on the streets whenever he and you are on patrol duty.
" I still can't believe you. " he extends his hand with his wand, pushing your bear away. it fell to the ground and disappeared. your magic probably made it disappear when it touched the ground.
you lean in close, close to kissing orter but you can't help but giggle. he's such a child. was he mad at your approval to mash?
instead of a kiss, you were met with a headbutt.
" what the heck? " you rub both your hands at the wound.
" you're a betrayer. why would I kiss a betrayer of my heart? " he says it so calmly, it did tick you off.
" oh come on, he won... not really fair since the first round, my bear was the hider and he nearly got beaten to a pulp the moment he was found by the red hair and mushroom hair. there wasn't any rules so my bear was allowed to shrink... " you mumbled the last part as orter can't help but remember the first time you made him and the rest of the visionary play your hide and seek game.
everyone was easily found but the second it was your turn to hide your bear. you shrunk it to the size of a coin, hiding it in kaldo's honey. they only found it when kaldo nearly choke at the feeling of something. thank goodness the bear was just illusion like, it disappeared the moment kaldo starts coughing. you summon it in your palm as you present to the rest, the size of the bear and how they've won since no one surrendered. everyone nearly killed you that day.
" what's so funny? " you pout at the sandman when he starts laughing at the memory. he's getting tipsy from the drinks too.
" nothing. I love you so much, betrayer of my heart. " he leans to plant a kiss on your head.
" don't call me that, if you said to kill him. I would've done it. " you kick his leg as he sighs.
" you won't. you won't do things without reasons. you fail to follow rules too, " he flicks your forehead.
he was right, having met him when he was newly announced as a visionary. he knew you quite well. too well sometimes. it's only fair since he's your lover. you sigh before grabbing his cup and putting it away from him.
" well, no matter what, I'd still listen to you. just maybe I do wish this mash kid make a change. the magicless and magic living together doesn't sound all too bad. we're all humans, after all. the status quo doesn't matter to me when life is involved. I've seen my share of bloodshed. change isn't all too bad either, orter. " he can't help but flush a little at your reprimand.
in his head, you were right and wrong. he loves you dearly and would support you. the status quo is something he cherishes to an extent. he feels a kiss to his cheek as he meets your eyes after, one so full of love.
" let's go home, this talk won't change my mind and I won't force it upon you to approve of mash. just don't make things hard for the poor guy, " your words obviously went in and out the other ear. orter was set on ending mash. even the words of his dearest may not be important at the moment.
" you're such a child, " he stirs to which you narrow your eyes at him, one close to a glare.
" says the big baby, I can literally beat you in a fight if I take down your weakness first. " you raise a fist.
" oh yeah, what's the weakness? " he had his hand prompting his face, tilting it to the side as he smiles uncharacteristically.
" your glasses. once it's out of the way, you're done for. " you smile back as your fisted hand made impact to his face, not physically and painfully punching him. just a light tap.
" I thought you'd say you're my weakness. " he was really getting drunk as he giggles to himself.
" what, you're my weakness. " you playfully pout as orter grabs you to give you a hug.
" go home, idiots. " the bartender sighs at your antics. giving him a soft chuckle as you feel orter's weight on you.
he had fallen asleep. you summon one of your plush toys to help pay the bill from your wallet and then a few more to help you carry the man. how you hope he'd forgotten half of what happened tonight and the fact you paid instead of him. he'll definitely make a fuss if he knew, but what's the point of being rich as a divine visionary if you can't spend. he loves you to death just like you love him too. complicated relationship but there's so much love in it. orter enjoys your company and he's forever thankful for your existence.
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★ pairings - Jimin x Fem!Reader
★ genre - smut , fluff.
★ summary - You were always told tales of a being that watched over you while you slept, you never knew that this being had an infatuation with you and would one day visit you in your dreams.
★ warnings - Dom!Jimin, Sub!Reader, somnophilia ( kind of ig ), Jimin being obsessive, dirty talk, lotta praise, use of angel, fingering, p in v, unprotected sex ( don't be silly wrap your willy ), riding, not proof read, spelling mistakes ( i'm dyslexic )
Jimin had been watching you ever since he could remember. He would frequently stand in the dark shadows of your room, watching as you drifted into peaceful slumbers that he had granted to you. Sometimes, he even dared to venture into the deepest parts of your mind, into your dreams.
He never got too close, it wasn't his place to interfere in your dreams but from afar he would add his own touch to your dreams, add things that would make you smile, and he always kept the nightmares away.
That was his job, to protect you from all the things that could possibly hurt you, wether it was in a dream state or not,
One day though, he ventured too far. He came too close to you.
When you were younger your mother had told you stories of a being who watched over everyone as they slept, a being who protected people from their own minds horrors. She called him the sandman.
It was a comfort to you when you were a child but as you grew older it began to sound like an old wives tale and your belief in the sandman dimished to just a story your mother told you to help you sleep at night.
Until one cold night when you were older, tucked up in your bed as you drifted into an uneasy sleep. Pictures of dark figures haunted your mind that night, watching you from dark corners of your apartment, you had felt the world closing in on you but you were pulled out, stolen a way by what you thought was a guardian angel.
The images plaguing your mind were wiped away with one swipe of your guardian angels hand and were replaced by bright walls, soft carpeted floors and a window where the moon shone onto the silk bedspread. It was your childhood home, your safeplace where you could be free from the horrors of the world.
Your guardian angel laid you down and tucked you in, tender fingers brushed over the loose strands of hair covering your pale face, the gentleness felt so real. You knew you were in a dream but some part of you wished and prayed that this was real, that this was happening.
"I'll always be here to protect you, my angel." The voice sounded distant. You felt a pair of soft lips press against your forehead and as you opened your eyes you were met with the sight of your dreary bedroom back in your lonely apartment, you were alone but you could still feel the ghost like feeling of soft lips on your temple.
You knew then, the sandman was not just a story from you were little. He was real and you knew, he was always watching over you.
The subway was full but what did you expect? Coming home this late at night it was bound to be full of drunkards and business men on their way home from their late working jobs.
And then there was you, coming home from a horrific blind date that your friend had set you up on. You thought this one would be different but once again, you were wrong.
You had at least expected to get something out of the date. Maybe you would bring the guy home, you'd fool around and then in the morning he would leave like nothing had ever happened but no, your friend had set you up with some low class lawyer who couldn't take his eyes off of your waitress's ass.
So, you had make up an excuse to leave early and now here you were, tugging down your low cut dress to hide your ass from peering drunkards, you were not that desperate.
The train ride home felt like hours long but eventually you were trudging up the lobby stairs to your shitty one bedroom apartment.
You kicked off your shoes as soon as you were inside and headed straight to your bedroom, well not before leaving a small bowl of milk by your living room window for the stray cat that visited every night.
After changing into your night clothes you laid on your bed, legs spread and laptop at the ready. If some blind date wasn't going to satisfy you, you were sure going to satisfy yourself.
You scrolled and scrolled until you found the perfecr vidoe, pressing play and slipping your hands into your pants. The sound of moans and groans filled your room and you pumped one finger in and out of you slowly..
But it wasn't enough even as you neared your orgasm you felt a pit in your stomach and it wasn't the good kind. Your ending was not a happy one and with an exsaperated sigh you shut down your laptop and burried under duvet, core still throbbing with an unfinished arrival.
You tossed and turned in your bed, peaceful sleep was so far but eventually your mind went blank and you were shrouded by darkness, sleeping at last.
Jimin thought you looked so angelic as you slept, he couldn't help but sit beside you, hand running down the curves of your hip.
He had watched you struggle to reach your climax but he was here now, Jimin knew that he was the only one who could satisfy your needs. He was the only one who could look after you and it pained him to see that you felt the need to chase after men who would never be what you needed.
You stirred in your sleep when his hands reached the waistline of your trousers, your eyes fluttering open to be greeted with a smiling Jimin, his eyes crinkling upwards.
Launching backwards caused him to land on his knees on your lumpy matress, hand coming forward to caress your cheek.
"Hey, don't be scared, It's me, just trying to look after you, angel." His touch felt so familiar, so comforting and so right. His fingers snuck into your panties, dancing over your wet folds "Told you i would always look after you, didn't I?"
With widened eyes, you finally recognised the face in front of you, you didn't know his name but you knew that this was the man, or being, who had saved you from that terrible nightmare years ago. The one who had soothed you back to sleep with a simple kiss, the man whose hands were now rubbing gently and your delicate clit.
Slowly, you relaxed under his fingers "There you go, you remember now, don't you?" Jimin grinned, he knew you felt safe with him, he could tell by the way you shuddered at his touch and the way you didn't fight to move his hand, you were enjoying this.
"How does that feel?" He questioned, fingers speeding up to rub circular patterns on your clit as his free hand rubbed the side of your face.
"Feels so good.." You muttered, the question of asking his name hanging off of your tongue.
"Jimin." The man in question answered.
His face moved closer to yours, lips trapping yours in a sweet kiss. He tasted oddly like you expected the night would taste, you couldn't fully describe it but it felt like a thousand stars were dancing on your lips that caused your mind to go hazy.
With his teeth enveloping your bottom lip with a small nip, your back arched, stomach swirling with butterflies. You squirmed under Jimin's touch.
"Uh uh, stay still for me, angel." The once soothing grip on your hip was now replaced by Jimin's firm grip, holding your hip in place to stop you from squirming "Don't cum just yet, ok."
You whined aloud when his fingers slipped out of your panties, leaving you feeling awfully cold and tense without the release you were so close to, it made him chuckle to see how desperate he made you feel.
He crawled on top of you. His midnight hair fell over his face covering those dark eyes that you swore were full of stars glinting in the moon light from your window, with one swift motion he had grabbed your wrist and moved it over to his erection, he moved your hand to rub over his pants.
"You feel that?" He let out a soft sigh at your touch "That's all for you, all for my angel." His words made you weak and you fumbled to undo the buttons of his jeans, the zipper slipping out of your hands.
A sweet laughter filled your ears, the dark haired boy moved to pin your wrists above your head, thumb rubbing at the soft skin. His free hand pulled down his own zipper in one swift motion, pulling his pants down and throwing them to some forgotten corner of your room. Then, he did the same with his shirt and then your clothes were thrown away.
"Please, need you." He stroked the tip of his cock against your sensitive clit, teasing you before his hands laced into yours and his hips thrust to bury himself deep inside of you with a small hiss.
You shuffled underneath him. He was bigger than you expected and your walls strechted to accomodate his size. It took you a moment but his slow thrusts soon helped you to adjust.
His lips met yours again, he moaned into your mouth, tongue swiping at your lower lip.
Your mouth fell open in a soft moan as he gripped your hips "Been waiting to fuck you for so long." Jimin mumbled almost breathlessly.
His thrusts were painfully slow and you pulled away from his lips, head falling backwards onto your pillow "Too slow, faster, please Jimin, please."
You felt the tip of his cock nudge at your g-spot, his lips curving to a smile that you felt on your, his tongue darting out to lick a small stripe up to his ear where he whispered "So desperate for me," his hips snapped forward, pushing your legs up to your chest allowed his thrusts to speed up considerably "No one else can fuck you like this, can they?" His jaw clenched.
Your lack of an answer must have annoyed him because he delivered a harsh slap to your ass that caused you to whine "You're the only one who can fuck me like this," your back arched as he continuesly hit your g-spot.
"That's it," Jimin reached down to between your legs, rubbing at your clit again. Your core clenched around him, eyes watering. You could feel that so familiar knot begin to build up in your stomach and clearly Jimin sensed it too "You close, angel? cum for me, c'mon."
Your body trembled as your orgasm washed over, fingers tangling into Jimin's hair, biting down hard on your bottom lip. You were surprised that you didn't draw blood.
Jimin's thrusts started to falter and it was apparent that he was also close and soon enough he spilt his seed inside of you, his head dropping into the crook of your neck with a shaky breath "Fuck." He muttered.
For a while you both stayed there, wrapped in each others arms until you felt your eyelids become heavy, you let out a yawn and Jimin rose from his position.
Jimin grabbed your bed covers, tucking them up beneath chin, he stroked your hair from your face and for the second time in your life, pressed his lips against the temple of your head.
"I will always look after you," he mumbled to your sleeping form "my angel." and with that.. he was gone
You woke up from your dream state with the feeling of his lips still on your forehead just like before.
Jimin was gone for now but you knew, you would see him again.
#bts fic#bts#bts x reader#bts fan fiction#bts fanfic#bts imagine#bts imagines#joonsy2k💌#park jimin#jimin#park jimin fic#jimin fic#jimin imagine#park jimin imagine#bts smut#jimin smut#park jimin smut#fanfic#fan fic requests#fanfiction#fan fiction
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ꜱᴜɢᴀʀ | dom!tony stark x sugarbaby!reader ( ᴄʀɪᴍᴇ!ᴀᴜ )
ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ [1, 2] | ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴏɴ ᴀᴏ3
There was nothing that could keep Tony from having exactly what he wanted—and he deserved a little sweetness in his life. All he had to do was keep from ruining you in the process.
content/warnings: 18+ minors do not interact. non-canon, non-superhero au, sub/dom undertones, slight emotional/verbal manipulation, obsessive + possessive behavior, age gap (reader described as mid-twenties, t.s as mid-forties), mildly dubious consensual situations, explicit mentions of alcohol and drug use, generally not for the light of heart, rough sexual content, reader described as petite
word count: 12k
a/n: new year, new format. sorry for the delay! wrestled w this for a bit.
You believed him, obviously.
You drank in every malefic word. It’s only the easiest thing in the world to do. Any voice that suggests your wanton attachment was becoming self-destructive died without a fight. You tell yourself that’s impossible–that you couldn’t see your life without him anymore because it was obviously better with him.
Sure, maybe you had some suspicions about his work, and maybe he could be a tad austere demanding, but that was child’s play compared to anything in the past.
You let your body curl beside his, savoring every ounce of his cologne in the air. It’s unfamiliar, feeling his bare skin against yours, but you’re thankful for it. The sandman visits quickly this time, sending you sleep as a calloused hand strokes your cheek.
There’s a beautiful sight awaiting Tony when he wakes the next morning–you, all tangled in silk sheets, warm arms wrapped tight around his midriff.
Almost every hour it feels like he finds a new beauty in you, another reason you’ll stay on his mind every moment of the day. This time, he’s noticing how breath-taking you look asleep, peaceful and holding him like you’re scared he’ll disappear.
Your form is casked in a shy early morning light as he trails his fingers across exposed skin gently, watching the slow rise and fall of your breathing. Tony would pay just about anything for you to see what he saw (which was absolute, unwavering perfection, in case you were still unsure).
Eventually, the sun rises high enough to illuminate the faint, pale marks on your hip–and only part of him wishes he showed more restraint.
No matter how much he wanted to take things slow with you, bring you in little by little, he needed your trust–your loyalty–so much more. He’d never cared much for delicacy when it came to love or attraction, especially not after Pepper. After all the bullshit with her, he wanted every living thing to feel the same desolate anger that fused in his bones. Scorched earth seemed too gentle of a policy.
It’s easy to say the end of their relationship came the second he found out, that all his feelings faded into nothingness and no further harm was done. It’s easy to pretend like he’s always been this way–this sharp-edged, arrogant man who commands loyalty and respect. It’s infinitely more difficult to acknowledge that his love for Pepper went away more like a kidney stone than a dying light.
That hot-headed arrogance, the one that soared at your proclivity for mistrust, or hints of leaving, that had been around for ages. The arrogance and fear of losing what he valued most burrowed together, growing slowly over the years into an obsessive need for control. It had laid dormant, waiting for that strawberry blonde catalyst.
The faint patches on your skin gave him a sense of satisfaction–you were his, and he tried to know that that would never change now. He realizes all his calculated moves probably weren’t needed, that he could’ve been more of himself with you sooner. Tony’s anger let him run clean over any worries that you’d leave at the first signs of his true colors. He really wanted to be the kind of man that was all sugar and no spice, but someone ruined that for you a long time ago.
Certainly, it at least wasn’t what you needed. Tony knew what you didn’t, that you could have any man you wanted. You could have chosen some run-of-the-mill, 9-to-5 guy. One who buys you flowers once a month while you live your own boring life with a dead end job, but you chose him for a reason.
You didn’t need coddling, just a bit of control–direction. All the worry he had about the ink in his life staining you could go away. Sleeping beside him, you looked just as pure and innocent as ever, dreaming peacefully. Hiding his life from you is exactly what led to last night’s events anyway. He made a mental declaration to be less conservative with himself, to give you exactly what you claimed to want (him–entirely and unconditionally).
He feels bad for past-him, who had to wait all those months to hear you cry out his name, to feel how easily your body submitted to him. Truthfully, you weren’t resisting him enough to justify the tight hold he kept, but every movement of your body needed to be his doing.
Maybe he should have just ripped off the bandaid sooner. You didn’t need things as fickle as slowness and patience, you needed to know where you belong–right here beside him, blissful and wearing the marks of his obsession.
Every fiber in his being hated doing it, but Tony pulls out of your sleepened embrace. The sudden loss of your warmth is almost physically painful, but he manages to rise from the bed. Your face scrunches slightly, sheets dragging to accommodate your shifting frame.
He contemplates waking you, if anything just to make sure your thoughts aren’t still set on leaving him. Tony’s not a betting man, but he takes the look on your face after coming to his room as a positive sign. Besides, he doesn't like the idea of waking you this early when you need rest more than anything.
There’s money waiting to be made, but he won’t deprive himself of this phenomenal view to do it. A rosewood table identical to the one in your room is moved closer to the bedside, right where he can keep you in his line of sight.
That’s exactly where you find him when you wake, hours later–already dressed in a black polo and dark pants, peering over his laptop. It’s a heavy knock on the door that stirs you, causing Tony to swear when he sees your eyes open.
The papers scattered about the table are shoved into a folder as he checks his watch and swears again. You’re almost too groggy to process voices at the door, turning just in time to see a wooden box transferred into Tony’s hands before the door shuts as quickly as it opened.
An apology is already spewing when he turns to you.
“You’re fine, it’s fine,” you waved your hand, starting to sit up.
You swing your legs over the edge, yawning and trying to think the last bit of sleep away. You might’ve forgotten about last night for a tiny longer had you stayed down. You feel the tenderness of your body before seeing it. Tony notices the subtle twitch of your brow, waiting for your reaction to worsen as he tucks the box into a leather duffel on the floor.
“We should leave in a few hours.”
There’s a flatness in his tone that pulls a puzzled look from you. He puts more papers away, now not even sparing a glance your way. It’s not out of contempt, just the last remnants of fear about you leaving. He had nothing but confidence when you were asleep–obviously feeling safe and enamored enough to lie beside him.
Now though, Tony’s forced to think ahead in time, trying to plan responses to questions and arguments you haven’t even made.
Maybe all Pepper did was make him insecure. (He’d never admit such a thing, though)
“What was that about?” you asked gently, even though you were genuinely trying not to wonder.
“Just work.” He strides back around the bed, planting a kiss to your forehead.
You manage not to pry, or give much of a reaction at all, simply smiling and still trying to stretch the weariness from your body. Your quiet demeanor comes from your own internal battle about his mood, nothing more. Tony though, for all his talents, sadly isn’t a mind reader. What he is however, is sure it’s his own fault.
Tony lets out a huff when he remembers he decided to be less withholding. You’re confused until the wooden box is brought back out. The bed makes a depressing noise under Tony’s weight as he sits across from you.
He can’t stand the apprehensive look in your eye, and figures there’s no time like the present.
“You wanna ask what’s in the box, don’t you, doll?” He says smugly, tapping the container against your knee lightly.
Trick questions aren’t really his style, but you don’t think there’s a right answer.
Tony’s expectations seemed to grow more complex the longer you were with him, and right now, you’re not certain what’s expected of you. The last ten hours in your mind was a feature film, full of depressing internal monologue about how little you really knew about him.
You know you should trust Tony’s words over the whispers of others, but they’re hard to separate when both sources are drenched in ambiguity.
“Look, I,” he pauses to sigh heavily, looking away from you for a moment. “I was completely open with Pepper–full transparency, no secrets, the whole nine yards.”
Vulnerability in any form was without a doubt his least favorite thing, especially with this. It almost petrifies him that you’ll see him differently. Mostly because he doesn’t know what he’d do if you really did leave. Somewhere, swimming in back of his brain is the idea that you’ll pull the same stunt she did. That train of thought always leads him down dark roads he’d prefer to ignore.
“I guess I was a little too open because I woke up one day and suddenly everything’s gone to shit.”
Tony’s phone rings, and for the first time ever, you see it declined without a second glance
“I cannot have that happen with you. You can ask me anything, if you can promise me you won’t leave if you don’t like the answer. If you can’t do that, you should go.” he ends coldly, and it sends a shiver through your frame.
You wouldn’t–whether he told you the truth or not. So, naturally, you nod in agreement.
A visible wave of relief rushes through him with a sigh.
“Okay, go ahead, shoot.”
What Tony’s expecting is questions about his work, about Pepper, maybe about Steve. The preparation for those questions is immaculate, answer trees with presumed added points of inquiry. Instead, you ask something he feels moronic for not planning for sooner.
“What are we doing here? With us? And don’t say it’s up to me.” You don’t ask how you normally do, with a hint of snide or taste of anger. It just comes like a whisper.
Stark sucks at very, very few things, but this is certainly one of them. Words never seem to do him justice. How he feels, what he wants to say, and what he ends up saying, never quite align. Hence why he much prefers action to rhetoric (hence why last night didn’t end in the screaming matches you might be used to from others).
Tragically for Tony, you’ve got that damned candied look on your face again that he absolutely cannot stand disappointing, even if you don’t know it.
Still, he takes a beat too long to formulate a response, so you continue.
“I mean, what are you telling all these other people who think you’re still married?”
“I don’t owe anyone an explanation about my life, doll.” he says a touch too sternly, without meaning to.
He continues before your face can turn too sour, placing an apologetic hand atop yours and sighing.
“Truthfully? No one asks, it's–I think everyone’s able to put two and two together with Pepper gone. If they did, I’d say you were my girlfriend, maybe partner. But honestly, that feels a little inaccurate.”
“Inaccurate how?” you ask tentatively, hoping it wasn’t somehow less than that.
“Underwhelming.” Tony smiles and laughs a bit, making your face warm.
“Promise me that you won’t change your mind about me.” he continues exasperatedly, half joking.
For once, you can read the emotions on his face clearly–it’s obviously not a world of fun for him to say any of this, and you know it’s the closest you’re getting to an apology (and a direct answer).
“I won’t, I promise.”
You don’t fully comprehend the metaphorical contract you’ve just signed, more permanent than any marriage certificate in his eyes.
For your sake, Tony hopes you aren’t the type to break promises.
-
It’s early in the day once you return to New York, and while you managed to stay awake on the flight, your eyelids shut the moment Tony closes the car door.
You realize you must have nodded off when you open your eyes to the familiar cluttered horizon. As the buildings come into sharper focus, you also realize that the car is completely stationary right outside your apartment.
You shift in the leather seat, turning to see Tony tapping at his phone screen. A wide grin spreads as he catches your eye.
“How long have we been here?” you yawn.
“About an hour.” Tony mutters absently, brow furrowed at whatever his phone displayed.
“You could’ve woke me, you know.” You felt a teeny bit guilty for keeping him when he definitely had better things to do. You shake the soreness from your body, slipping your shoes back on your feet and gathering the items you had spread throughout the car.
“You looked tired,” he says dismissively, pocketing his phone and turning the car back on. “and I don’t mind.”
The apology you want to give is interrupted with the painful reminder that you still have a shift at the bar tonight. Tony watches the realization wash over you, laughing as you dramatically groan and toss your head back.
“What’s the matter?”
“Wish I could go back in time and tell Alicia hell no on closing tonight–”
“Uh-uh, nope, you’re not allowed to complain.” he interjects, shaking his head comically.
“Why not?” you laugh hesitantly, already guessing what the answer would be.
“Honey, it’s almost physically painful watching you waste your time there knowing I can take care of everything for you.”
Was this the first time Tony indirectly suggested you quit working? Not in the slightest. Lately, a week could hardly pass without even a small mention. In theory, it sounded lovely to you ( as someone who never planned on staying a bartender this long but had no other goals to stand on). Reality bore different fruit that told you independence was probably better.
So, as you’ve done before, that’s exactly what you tell him. You liked making your own money. It causes the billionaire to chuckle as if you’ve told the funniest story ever, making you feel like a paranoid freak.
“No one said anything about taking away your independence.” he chuckles, turning the key. “If making cocktails makes you happy, go for it, but I would at least make sure it’s a nicer location–with bottles worth drinking.”
“I don’t recall you having any issue drinking all those cheap cocktails.”
“I’d drink anything if you were the one serving them.”
You have to try hard not to swoon at his words, watching him leave the car and pop the trunk before you can say anything else. You follow before long, standing to the side as he moves your bags from the car to the sidewalk.
“It’s just hard–what I want to do isn’t really a money maker. People don’t get into art for the paycheck.”
He laughs again, and you’re starting to find it very infectious.
“Maybe I’ll single-handedly revive the field of patronage. Pay you to build whatever kind of gallery you want, if you let me keep a few.”
With a wink, the bags are carried by Tony to the front door, where he gives you a long, slow kiss that leaves your head spinning. Something leaves his lips about taking you to breakfast in a few days, but you’re too charmed to hear it.
All in all, you do end up working a lot less. Mostly because you don’t need to. Over the next month or two, Tony manages to persuade you to get what he wants. Okay, so it was less persuasion and more necessity.
Two weeks after your trip, your roommate gets a job offer out-of-state and moves out faster than you can make up the difference in tips. Originally, you weren’t going to mention it in the slightest. Plan A was to beg your landlord for more time, and plan B was to write a bad check and hope you had enough by the time he tried to cash it.
For weeks straight you worked non-stop doubles to try and close the gap. You were making progress, but steadily wearing yourself down to a dull nub. By the end of it, you were beyond burnt out and completely forgot that Tony knew nothing about it. You fucked up by inviting him over one night, not realizing that the sudden absence of half of everything inside would tip him off (that and the deep bags under your eyes).
Immediately, he asked how on earth you were still paying rent this month, and absolutely despised your answer. Tony had never been shy in telling you how wasted your talents were, and this night was no exception. Especially considering you hadn’t still made enough and planned on working another double tomorrow.
You had little energy or reason to argue with him about it.
Now, you assumed it was a one time thing, just to help you get re-stabilized, maybe find another roommate. Neither really panned out. Every hit on Craigslist gave serial murderer vibes, and tips were starting to trickle as summer ended. The following month, you walked down to the leasing office, last month’s check in hand, only to be told it was taken care of.
Do you think the bitchy lady at the front desk answered you when you asked how that was possible, or do you think she ignored you and called out next in line?
It’s the latter, leaving you forced to call Tony and find out from him. You wouldn’t let yourself trust him, so it’s only right he does it for you. Tony always gets what he wants one way or another after all, causing the same story to be told next month, and the following, and every month after for the foreseeable.
You can’t say he isn’t right, though. Less shifts just means more free time to do all the things you’ve put off for the last five years. And so, your life changes once more. All the paintings, books, and movies that sat abandoned finally get some well-deserved attention. You fall into a mellow routine: spending your mornings ahead of a new blank canvas and afternoons buried inside forgotten novels.
An odd shift is picked up here and there, the appropriate amount to stay on staff and keep some semblance of a normal routine, but not consume your life. You adapt surprisingly well, skipping that awkward stage of persistent guilt for having someone else handle your bills. It’s especially effortless when your now empty evenings are filled by Tony. It becomes easier to relax around him, oddly enough. You never thought that time would come, anticipating a lifetime of tiptoeing or a fiery end.
Funny, it feels like only yesterday when you were reeling at him buying a simple dress.
Between spending more time with Tony and less time working, you see more of what the city has to offer. The heightened level of status that dating Tony Stark brings unlocks a plethora of galleries, restaurants, and events you’d only dreamed of attending. Co-existing with the brazen personalities of the 1% could still be a pain, but now you know how to smile and pretend when it counts.
You even have the temerity to attend some alone. It’s much more fun with Tony, though. Your evenings almost always end inside your apartment, staying up and keeping Tony far later than you should. He rarely minds, often halfheartedly leaving to handle some issue or another. If your luck is high enough, no one needs Tony Stark, leaving him to occupy his time with his favorite person.
If you’re even luckier (or simply brave enough to ask) he’ll slide a taunting finger behind whatever teasing skirt or shorts you’ve chosen (specially to incite this reaction), whisper in your ear how perfect you taste and make your eyes roll. You’ve tried to reciprocate–an embarrassing number of times. Short of actually ripping his clothes off, you don’t know how else to get the message across.
Tony only takes your attempts as a sign that he’s succeeding at keeping your mind elsewhere.
During one of these late-nights, he’s working on doing just that when he notices you’re distracted for other reasons. He’s standing behind you in your dim bedroom, slowly working the zipper of your dress down as he trails the soft revealed skin with heavy kisses. Normally, you’d be panting, pressing against him trying for any bit of friction. Instead, he can see your tightly wound brows, the glossy flesh of your bottom lip jutting between two front teeth, thinking far too hard for how good this felt.
“Penny for your thoughts?” he hums lightly, turning you by your waist as the dark fabric pools at the floor.
Tony doesn’t still his lips at all, leaving tender marks down your neck and chest. The good news is it gets your breath choked and heavy just how he likes it. Unfortunately, your half-presence remains. He stops right before the airy lace of your bra begins, causing you to catch his eye.
“How come you’ve only taken me to the tower once?”
You don’t have a set event that prompted this question. The realization only dawned on you today. You’ve been dating one of the richest men on the planet for the better end of a year, and he’s taken you to his home a grand total of one time. Your brain is good at forgetting that night most days, but today you can’t shake it. It feels almost karmic to bring up bad memories, as if just speaking about it will bring it back into existence.
He laughs a bit when your issue proves so elementary.
“Seriously,” you stress, even though your voice wavers with the arousal he’s building. “We’ve been together all this time and I’ve never really seen where you live.”
“Promise you aren’t missing much.” Tony smiles, capturing your lips and guiding you backwards until your legs hit the edge of the bed.
“It’s only one of the largest companies in the world. Guess seeing the inside once is pretty lucky.” you sigh, feigning a dramatically sad tone.
You’re really trying to guilt him, making a purposeful effort not to soak into the heat of his touch. Hot hands snake up your thighs, thumbs brushing small circles into the inner skin. He dips below you as you sit, still humming his way up your legs with butterfly kisses.
“Might have been followed, couldn’t risk taking you home.” he mutters, preoccupied.
It’s not his fault you look too good to argue with right now (which you knew and were definitely using to your advantage). The dress you wore tonight might as well have been see-through– it hugged you like cellophane, and he made a mental note to buy you more in the same material.
While Tony’s busy leaving more hickeys on your thighs, a shiver runs through you. What would have happened had someone followed Tony’s car?
Your mind goes to work crafting all types of theories, and Tony recognizes the look plain as day. He stops with a stout sigh, leaning back on his heels. It pulls your attention back to him, looking down at him with uneasy eyes.
“You know I wouldn’t let anything happen to you.”
“I know.”
Even if you’re not entirely sure what you need protecting from.
“Good, now do me a favor and lie back.”
You do as you're told, of course, more than enthusiastically.
Balance is important after all, though. So, while Tony gets what he wants now (as he usually does), he indulges you as well.
You made an off-hand comment about never actually seeing a broadway show in person, despite living in New York for literal years. Tony finds any missed luxury in your life unacceptable and naturally drops a small fortune to orchestrate a private show. While buying out the theater was partially for the romance, it would have also been too much exposure for him otherwise.
Afterwards, he makes a very notable detour from your usual route home, pulling you away from your long ramble about how awe-striking the show was. Asking just gets you a cheeky smile and turns your attention towards the tower.
You get the full tour that you weren’t afforded the first time (given the circumstances). The lobby you recall, with its marble floors and high ceiling. It’s well in the evening, leaving the tower empty minus a few guards and late-night staff.
You regret never paying attention in science when Tony guides you through the labs and workshops.
As you pass through room after room, each unnerves you. Most things of the scientific nature are lost on you, but you’re certain the high amount vials and chemicals you see would floor even Einstein.
You can’t place why they unsettle you, looking so out of place and painfully high-tech in stereotypical white walls. It also doesn’t help that Tony spiels about the building and not what lies on the tables three feet away.
You swallow your questions, fearing that the answer to be even remotely similar to the one that drove Pepper away.
Tony mentions having dinner upstairs, to which you smile and follow him into an adjacent elevator before you can stress yourself out further.
The doors open to a penthouse apartment that you don’t remember walking through before (definitely too caught up in thinking you were about to be dumped over a drunken mistake). You obviously expected Tony to live in the same luxury he exudes, but the decor and imported wood reminded you just how wealthy he was. He leads you to his office, tucked behind a frosted glass door that you do remember from last time.
“This,” he starts, swiping a small card against the door’s thin black reader with a quiet beep, “is where the magic happens, but it is off-limits without my permission.”
You give an understanding nod when he turns back, although you wanted to laugh at how quickly he switched from sounding like a complete nerd to stony-faced. Tony leaves the door open once you enter, tucking the card back into the pockets of his slacks.
You are naturally more curious than most (for better or for worse), and make quick work walking around the vast space, eyeing each shelf, table, and weird gadget. A pair of soft couches mirror one another in the center of the room, surrounding a cluttered coffee table of notes and books. A whiteboard stands nearby, covered in what’s probably math but could pass for ancient Greek. Every inch of the walls is lined with something–be it awards and diplomas or more books with words you’re convinced are made up. It strikes you then that the office lacks any windows, and you wonder if that’s by design or sheer chance.
At the back wall shines various lights and screens, below it a thin, large clear desk where Tony sits. The desk holds more of the odd, transparent screens, which Tony closes with the swipe of his hand as you approach. A compliment of some capacity about the decor is brewing when you notice the picture frame sitting nearby. Two figures pose in front of a row of trees, one clearly Tony, and the other a young man, with dusty brown hair and pristine in dark blue graduation robes. Tony’s arm wraps around the younger, smiling bigger than you’ve ever seen. The young man holds a slender booklet and a matching smile.
Predicting this, he answers the question before you figure out how to ask it.
“That’s Harley–don’t start getting any ideas, he’s not Pepper’s.” he says, pulling you by the waist into his lap.
“Is he your nephew or something?” you question, resting your head against the velvety fabric of his shirt.
“Howard Stark was a man of one child, to his disappointment, so no. Harley’s a family friend.”
“You just run around befriending random college kids?” you joke, dangling your legs over the edge of the chair.
“If I’m feeling generous enough.”
In the corner of your eye, you see a figure appear across the room in the empty door frame. A tall, older man waits–hands clasped behind his back in black pants and pressed white button up.
“Mr. Stark, there’s a visitor for you.”
He speaks as quickly as he appears, with an unexpectedly posh accent. Tony taps your knee, and you leave his lap very begrudgingly and watch with even more unnecessary sorrow as he exits the room. A promise is given about returning soon, but you know better than to believe that.
A word is exchanged between the two that you can’t hear across the large office. When Tony’s figure leaves, the other man enters. You notice his blue eyes as he comes closer, deciding to take a seat on one of the couches.
“Mr. Stark has requested I quote–keep you from dying of boredom–in his absence.” he says, standing at the head of the couch across from you.
“Has he now?” you laugh lightly.
The thing they don’t tell you about rich boyfriends? It takes time to make all that money, keeping them busy and away from their easily bored girlfriends. So, you nod when the man smiles, making a permissive motion towards the seat.
“My name is Jarvis, I work for Mr. Stark.”
“Nice to meet you, I’m [y/n]”
“You need very little introduction, ma’am. Mr. Stark has talked a great deal about you over these last several months.” he laughs, crossing his legs.
“Really?” you ask. It’s not extremely surprising, you just assumed Tony was perpetually occupied talking about other things. He did make a good move though, Jarvis is much more pleasant company than he usually keeps.
“Indeed, he’s quite fond of you.”
You aren’t used to hearing this–from anyone really. Everyone you know has no idea Tony exists (for better or for worse) and everyone he knows seemingly despises you. It’s a breath of fresh air that does wonders for your insecurities about this whole relationship. Not a complete cure, but the start to some form of remedy..
“And what do you do for Tony?” you ask, not wanting to be rude and keep the conversation entirely on yourself.
He ponders this for a moment, giving you the impression he’s never had to explain this before.
“I assist Mr. Stark in his day-to-day activities, so that he may devote more energy towards the company.”
What was with this calculated nature everyone around him seemed to take on? Still, Jarvis appeared to be a beacon of kindness (the accent might be biasing you). It’s bright enough to tempt you to ask Jarvis what you were too hesitant to ask Tony, mostly out of trepidation over the answer.
“I have to admit I’m a pretty terrible girlfriend–I don’t even know what Tony does.” you sigh and pout slightly.
Naivete was an old trick you didn’t mind pulling out of the bag now and again.
Jarvis chuckles, an optimistic sign that your tactics are working.
“Stark Industries is a manufacturing and research company that specializes in pharmaceuticals and biotech.”
Now that line sounds more rehearsed. More accurately, it’s strikingly similar to the first line that pops up when anyone searches up Stark Industries.
“Doesn’t sound much to me like a merchant of death.”
You might have been better off forgetting Steve’s words, but it’s all you can think of when you picture what lives in the labs just below you. As much as you wanted to play out the rest of your life with Tony in blissful ignorance, you were constantly exposed to things that made you question if it really was bliss.
You expected maybe a twitch of the brow from Jarvis, the face trying to compensate for what the mind already knows. Instead, Jarvis’ mouth turns downward, cocking his head in confusion at the moniker.
“Where did you hear that?”
Before you can answer, Tony’s voice bounces down the hallway. In the next second, he’s back in the office, and Jarvis is standing. You’re disappointed (and shocked) that Tony didn’t take as long as usual, having to cut the conversation short.
The older man shoots you a curious glance as he leaves—an unspoken reassurance that he does indeed expect an answer at a later point.
“Everything okay, doll?”
Tony asks, because you're too busy thinking to mind your face, and it looks troubled. You shake it off though, smiling and taking the hand he holds out.
The two of you have that dinner, though the entire evening you catch weathered blue eyes watching you from afar.
Remember that thing about rich boyfriends and their busy jobs? Yeah, that becomes a pain quickly. You could handle the phone calls on dates or distracted answers while an email is answered no problem. But once Tony brought you to the tower, he didn’t see a reason to keep you away anymore. You happily started spending most of your nights there. You just didn’t fully process the implications of Tony living where you work. Most days he manages to spare an hour here and there, interrupted by phone calls and meetings. So, often you roam around, trying to not wonder just what your boyfriend has to do to earn all that money.
You pick up on a lot of little things about his life from pure close-hand observation. The Tony you know is sweet and passionate. Tony working is almost an entirely different breed. You thank god that you’re just dating him and not working for him. The sternness he tended to use with you wasn’t exclusive, but dialed to an eleven when he came to his work.
The most jarring, however, is the constant presence of armed guards at the Tower, even in Tony’s penthouse. You think back to every date so far, scanning memories for shady figures waiting by exposed exits. A few potentials stand out, but you can’t be certain your memories aren’t being falsified by present events.
One morning, you pass one of the men on your way to the kitchen. It’s an early morning, at least for you, coming down the stairs as he pours a cup of coffee. It strikes you, since they normally keep near the elevator and you’ve never seen them do anything except stand around.
The bald man nods towards you, and out of nothing more than courtesy and habit, you nod back. He retreats to his post without another word soon after.
Despite the early hour, Tony’s already risen before you and is likely tucked away somewhere working. Peace is a valued comfort, of course, but the tower gave you an overwhelming sense of emptiness without Tony around.
Any mess you leave is miraculously cleaned (you learn this is Jarvis’ doing), and most of the tower is off-limits for you. Still, you enjoy being relatively closer to Tony than you were most days, so hanging around isn’t too much of a burden.
That morning proves fruitful as well, as you get to speak to Jarvis again. That’s not to say you haven’t seen him. In fact, he’s almost always somewhere nearby. The issue being that it’s normally coupled by Tony or other parties. This time, he’s alone.
You’d entered the kitchen that morning in a determined search for caffeine, planning to spend your day shopping for something new to wear for a gala that’s a ways away. It’s a much calmer experience without crowds, so you got an early start.
Jarvis enters soon after the guard leaves, setting fresh kitchen towels onto the island.
“Morning, ma’am.” he says, opening a cabinet across from you.
You laugh lightly, finding it odd that a man old enough to be your father would waste such honorifics on you. You inform Jarvis of such, to which he gives a chuckle of his own.
“It’s simply out of respect and the nature of my work, nothing more.” he explains, delicately laying each towel in the small space.
“You don’t find it weird calling people younger than you sir and ma’am?”
It’s a pretty genuine question, having never been in such a role yourself. The cabinet is shut with a soft thud as Jarvis turns towards you.
“I do not.”
He goes for the recently emptied coffee cup beside you, refilling it before you can tell him that’s not necessary.
“Might I inquire to you about something?” he questions, handing you the warm mug.
You were expecting a continuation of your earlier conversation. You had prepared questions of your own, of course. Mostly about Steve, and definitely a few about Pepper. A nod of agreement leaves you as the warm liquid slides down your throat.
“Do you not find it–strange, romantically involving yourself with someone so much older than you?”
The raise of his brow tells you he is similarly being genuine. This floors you though. Ironically, that was one of your main reasons for rejecting Tony all those months ago. But lately? You barely even thought about it. You’d stopped paying attention to the odd snide comments and the occasional bizarre look. Really, the fact only comes back to you when Jarvis mentions it. Come to think of it, you can’t recall Tony ever bringing attention to it either.
“I don’t really notice the little jokes and weird looks anymore, so no, not at all.” you shrug, taking another sip.
“I mean no disrespect, simply curious.” he laments.
“None taken, don’t worry.”
“Might I also ask then,” he pauses, testing out the words in his mouth first and waiting for your approval. “–how your family’s temperament is towards Mr. Stark?”
“My parents died when I was really young, and they were both only childs, so I’m gonna say it’s pretty neutral.”
Jarvis goes a tinge red at this, immediately apologizing as if it was somehow his fault. You can’t help but laugh at the contrite attitude. He stops once he sees the grin on your face, breathing a sigh of relief that he hadn’t seriously offended you.
“You’re fine, really, I’m surprised Tony never mentioned it to you.”
“Mr. Stark is typically a private man, and I doubt he would share such information with anyone without your permission.”
“Yeah, that can be– annoying.” you sigh.
“I understand, naturally is,” Jarvis nods towards you, walking past you to exit before halting. “Employ a bit of patience, if you can. Mr. Stark’s stress is greatly alleviated with your continued presence.”
If his behavior now was relaxed, you didn’t want to imagine how he was prior.
That afternoon, you returned to the tower, spoils in tow (and paid for with Tony’s matte black card). Despite the time, there wasn’t a sign of Tony anywhere. Most of the lights were off when you entered, causing you to pull out your phone flashlight like some kind of horror movie. You made your way through the penthouse, flipping switches and checking rooms.
Kitchen, empty. Office, empty. Gym, empty.
Your voice bounced through the hall as you climbed the stairs, calling out Tony’s name. Disappointedly, you were only met by silence. Out of the last forty-eight hours, a grand sum of eight of them you shared with him. One out every six hours (and most of those you were asleep). The recurrent solitude made an evening in your own home suddenly sound much more favorable.
You traipse into the bedroom, tossing the gown that you were very excited to show Tony into one of the massive closets. The random handful of items you had scattered around the room are thrown into your bag. Some you leave in their place–you knew you wouldn’t be away long. A bright light shines in your face when you fumble with your phone, reminding you to turn it off. It also gives you the literal lightbulb idea to text Tony.
[ heading home for the night, call me when ur free ]
In the still quiet of the penthouse, a beep reverberates behind you. Puzzled, you turn, noticing the golden light trickling from under the bathroom door.
“Tony?” you call out again, crossing the room towards the door.
On the other side, water runs for a moment, followed by the click of the lock as the door opens.
“Hey, honey.” he drawls, walking out with a sniffle.
“You okay?” you ask tentatively. “It was like, pitch dark in here.”
He pulls you into a welcomed embrace, wrapping large arms around your body tightly.
“I’m fine, they’re just timed. Gotta be eco-friendly, right?”
Tony punctuates his sentence with a kiss on your forehead. You stay in his embrace as long as possible, resting your head against his chest. His heart thumps heavily, beating like a rabbit through the soft cotton of his shirt.
Eventually, the embrace has to end, mostly so that Tony can plead to you to stay another night. He promises that he’s yours for the evening, and given that this was what you preferred anyway, you oblige.
First though, Tony has a surprise. One that he swears will make the tower feel more comfortable for you. His surprises are typically rather ornate or sickeningly expensive. This one, however, is moderately less materialistic than usual.
Down the hall from the frosted door of Tony’s office is a room that you were initially told was off-limits. As you reach the end of the hall, Tony explains he needed just a little more time for some ‘finishing touches’.
Another keycard is produced from his pocket, swiping on a reader much similar to the one in his office. When it beeps in response, the card is planted firmly in your hands.
“Go ahead, check it out.” he grins, motioning towards the door.
Tentatively, you enter the previously inaccessible space. Once inside, your jaw nearly drops. It’s not a large space, but it takes a while for you to process everything within.
Shelves stand tall with various jars and tubes of paint, elegant brushes and canvases of every size. Tables sit near pristine walls, freshly painted and holding any medium you could possibly want. The walls are bare, save for the antique painting hanging by the window. You recognize it instantly, not believing your eyes at first. Tony doesn’t need to say it for you to know–this was all for you.
What Tony does feel the need to say is that if everything isn’t to your liking, he can have it changed in a day. He worries as you stand silent, not reacting in explosive joyful glee like he hoped.
“No, no, it’s perfect.” you swiftly add, turning to him beaming.
You’re still in awe as relief passes through him as your arms wrapped around him. Somehow, Tony always manages to redefine what you thought you deserved. There’s a painting worth half a million dollars sitting less than 10 feet away, and it was purchased just for you.
An impressive length, all for a simple smile. How the hell could you ever settle for anything less from anyone else?
Sure, you don’t realize this is a purposeful gift to encourage you to stay around the tower more, and the knowledge wouldn’t change anything anyway.
After you thank him excessively for the next ten minutes (to which Tony’s response can mostly be summed up as ‘has literally no one done anything nice for you? ever?’), the dress you bought earlier comes to mind. Tony thought you learned by now that he’d buy you the world if it was for sale, but indulges in your feverish gratitude for the time being.
You do the leading this time, back into the bedroom where he waits on the black duvet for you to change. It’s a magical feat that you manage to get it zipped up alone. Stubbornness also plays its own role.
When you reemerge, it’s Tony’s turn to be rendered speechless. A sleeveless auburn number wraps your body, cinching at your waist and following to the floor. Cut-outs show off your midriff, letting the cool air cover your skin. The high level of regality is new to you, but you weren’t risking the embarrassment of being underdressed a second time. It’s also Tony’s favorite color to see you in (which you totally didn’t know and totally weren’t exploiting for this very purpose).
“Well?” you start, give a small twirl. “What do you think?”
There was a worry that he might find it too much. Another thing you picked up on over the last few weeks was Tony’s subtle disdain for clothing he found tacky or too revealing. You hadn’t managed to hit that threshold so far, and knew it better to avoid.
“As amazing as you look, I think you need to take that off before I end up ripping it to pieces.” he responds, voice low and hungry.
Solace finds you, pleased that you didn’t make a wrong choice. It’s brief though, because a second glance at Tony reveals that while he liked the choice, (almost too much, really) he also wasn’t joking in the slightest.
A raise of an eyebrow says it all–don’t make me repeat myself.
So, under his fervent commands, you wind up pinned below him, dress long discarded on the plush carpeted floors as his fingers curl inside of you. A hand keeps your wrists pinned tightly above your head, keeping you at his mercy. If you could call his unrelenting fingers mercy.
You quickly grow more frustrated than ever at the barrier of clothing on his body. It’s always goddamned there, holding back the warmth you can feel radiating through. His restraint prevents you from taking the friction you need. You’re further burdened by the teeth grazing your neck, sucking slow and teasingly on your pulse point. All the man had to do most days to turn you into a needy mess was kiss you, but after so many busy days, this was sweet torture.
Tony knew it too. The increasing pitch in your whine was music to his ears. It’s not before it’s broken and whimpery, your excitement coating his fingers. Every movement was overwhelming, and yet still managed to leave you desperate for more.
“Please, Tony, fuck-” you plead, interrupted by your own moan when he curves his fingers again.
“Aw, do you need something, darling?” he whispers, moving away from your neck. “I know I taught you better than that–use your words, pretty girl.”
This isn't an uncommon taunt of his, loving the embarrassed shy look that crawls over your face each time. He’s pleasantly surprised tonight, however, as you just about had it enough to give in. The award for longest time to make someone wait under they verbally beg for you to fuck them goes to Anthony Edward Stark, with an impressive record of eight months.
Your brows furrow, trying to find your center again to speak with clarity and not falter under his gaze.
“Would you stop being an asshole and just fuck me, please?” you sighed exasperatedly.
Manners would be something to correct later. For now, Tony’s happy to focus on rewarding your needy pleas.
Your wrists are granted all too short reprieve, as he takes little time undressing, climbing back on top of you and attacking your neck with hard, bruising kisses. The hard member you’re used to having constrained by high-end slacks feels larger pressed bare against your folds–hot and heavy as he returns a hand to your wrists.
His free hand aligns him at your entrance, stopping when he notices your tightly shut eyes. Now that simply won’t do.
“Open those pretty eyes.”
It’s a short and breathy order, the tone earning your instant compliance. Tony’s eyes are dark above you, catching them only for a moment before he swiftly sinks into you (he’ll allow it this time).
There’s little resistance, as you were already a mess from earlier, but his thick member still stretches your walls. You cry out when he reaches the hilt, snapping his hips into you only to withdraw and fully sink back into you with the same speed.
Tony gains a new found appreciation for the philosophy behind a reward being sweeter the longer you wait. There’s nothing more delectable in the whole world right now than the fractured moans escaping you, despite your visible attempts to bite them back. As much as he wants to commit this coy little expression of yours to memory, he’s clearly not doing his job if you’re able to hold anything back.
The hands above you let go, gripping your hips instead to thrust deeper into you. It does just what he needs to do, listening to the sweet sounds of your whines as his cock reaches right where you needed to. All this time without h, combined with his fast and hard thrusts has moan after moan falling from your lips.
Tony can hardly contain himself either, high off the sticky mess you're making. Your neck is perfectly dotted with tender marks from his mouth, only driving his ecstasy further.
He knows he’s being more than rough, pounding into you relentlessly–you’re just taking him so well, your nails leaving tiny red crescents on his thighs. It drives him wild, possession does go both ways after all. Every erratic breath and tremble of your legs came from him. You were his–who begged for him and moaned his name.
The fast, rough pace pushes you to your peak not long after, and Tony recognizes the stuttery pitch of your voice.
“Go ahead, darling.” he whispers into your ear, voice soft and gentle despite how deep he was inside you.
Your legs wrap around his waist as your core swells with pressure, desperate for him to be impossibly closer than he was. It’s not long after your voice breaks altogether, falling into a slight plea as your walls tighten around him.
The feeling of you losing yourself around him sets off something entirely new in Tony. He’d never miss another chance to make you his like this. A deep groan echoes in the bedroom walls, unsteady hands holding your hips tighter.
He was absolutely nowhere near done with you.
Before you can catch your breath, it’s taken as he slams into you with renewed energy. A string of curses leave him when your back arches into him, straining against his hold.
Your body feels white-hot with pleasure. You were used to Tony pushing you into orgasm after orgasm, alternating between his mouth and fingers until you’re a pile of jelly below him. This was entirely different, hit that spongy spot inside of you over and over as your walls shutter. It leaves your whole form trembling, mind blanking each time he bottoms out.
“Shit, Tony, I can’t,” you whimper.
It’s a broken plea, already feeling your body go taunt a second time. Still, you hope for a bit of reprieve, just enough to bring your mind back to earth.
“You will for me, darling.” he groaned, voice heavy and breathless, bringing a hand to your hair and exposing your neck to his teeth for another assault. “I know you can take it.”
A shiver runs through you as his latches onto your neck, deciding you could stand to have more marks across your skin. You’re completely lost in the throbbing member splitting you apart, aimlessly grabbing at the soft sheets below you. He leans back, pulling your hips up to keep slamming to you, letting a hand wrap around your throat and press against the fresh mark left there.
“All mine, aren’t you?” Tony moans above you, close to his own peak. He just needs to feel your body to submit to him one more time.
The tender pain in your throat mixes deliciously next to the sweeping euphoria. You want to answer (mostly because you know he’s expecting one), but all your mind can zone into is how electrified your skin is.
“Aw, is my girl too fucked out to answer me already?” he taunts, even if the sight of you this blinded by pleasure nearly sends him over.
No one else could ever have you like this, he’d make sure of it. You were past shame over how his words left you, cruel or praiseful. Any utterances that made it known you were his turning your body into melting sugar.
Tony’s own hips stutter, bucking into you as your peak hits you again, your moan silenced by the tight hand around your throat. He’s close behind you, keeping his rhythm until the shake in your legs lessens.
He sinks into you, caressing your face and burying himself back into your neck. A long moan floods your ears, feeling him still inside of you and paints every inch of your walls white. Hot, heavy breaths cover your ear as he fills you, not withdrawing until he’s certain you’ve taken every drop.
You’re an exhausted pile of bones below him, leaving him feeling quite prideful. Stark on the other hand is oddly energetic. He disappears for a moment, returning after putting his boxers back on and grabbing a towel.
He lies beside you, watching the rise and fall of your chest. Soft praises and peppered kisses follow, trailing along your face and shoulders. He tells you over and over how perfect you did, though you're still barely present.
You’re focused on calming your breathing, so Tony’s praises fall onto distracted ears. You aren’t that distracted, though, as his next words ring through clear as day.
“I love you, doll, you know that?” It’s barely above a whisper, spoken between into the delicate skin of your collarbone.
You turn your head almost instantly, blinking rapidly because surely you didn’t hear that right. The words left him before he knew what he was saying, caught up in the swirl of post-coital bliss. In an unusually empathetic act of vulnerability, he stands by it. The declaration is repeated louder to your stunned face.
He’s not that vain that he expects an immediate reciprocation–though you eagerly give one anyway. That's all good and well, except he senses concern in your voice.
“That’s just how every guy wants to hear that, thank you.” Tony jokes, propping himself onto his elbow with a grin.
“That came out wrong, I just,” you chuckle softly, trailing off. “You are being genuine, right?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” he asks matter-of-factly.
“I guess–be honest, you really don’t mind being with someone like twenty years younger than you?”
He throws his head back in laughter, and you use the little energy you have to swat at his shoulder.
“You’ve been talking to Jarvis, haven’t you?
“How the-what do you mean?” you fully turn on your side to face him, more puzzled than before. You also worried you somehow crossed a line discussing Tony with someone else in private.
“Don’t sweat it–Jarvis is more of an old friend than an employee, regardless of whatever the old bat says. He’s just overprotective.”
“And he was worried about us?”
“More about you, specifically, that you were some covert gold-digger playing the long game for a chance at the Stark inheritance. He didn’t believe that I had to damn near beg on my hands and knees for a simple dinner.” he says indignantly, and you have to roll your eyes.
“What if I was? You don’t know.”
“Please, no one trying to woo me for my money would start as many arguments with me as you do.”
“I do not start arguments, if anything you’re the one-” you start to defend yourself, then Stark raises an eyebrow and the sentence dies on your tongue. “Okay, point taken.”
Tony pulls your naked form towards him, your head resting on his chest as your body curls beside his. You’re more than spent, the sound of his heart still racing after all this time doesn’t process under the lure of sleep.
For now, you’re too in love to care.
-
When you wake, Tony’s absent from your side. This is not unusual in the slightest for any night you spend here, but it's barely four in the morning.
You scan the dark room momentarily before switching the bedside light on. Groggily (and on sore legs), you rise, tying a short robe around yourself. Thinking of yesterday, you actually check the bathroom this time to find it empty. You ventured out of the bedroom to an empty and pitch black hallway. Deja vu feels like an understatement.
You start to call out his name just like before, stopping once you see the light flowing from the kitchen downstairs. As you descend, Tony’s voice grows louder. His back comes into view once the final step is crossed, with another figure in front of him.
Tony swivels slowly when you enter, and you notice the person he’s speaking to is the same young man from the photo. You cross your arms over your body as best you can when you enter the space, suddenly feeling very underdressed for meeting a stranger.
“Sorry, did we wake you?” Tony asks apologetically, to which you shake your head and yawn.
“Harley, this is [y/n], [y/n], Harley.” he continues.
Harley holds a blue duffel in his right hand, giving you a curt wave with the other. Under the bright kitchen lights, however, he gets a better look at you. You don’t understand why in the moment, still half-asleep, but he makes an unsettled face at you before darting his sharp eyes back to Tony. After which Tony tells you he’ll be up in a moment and you return back to the warmth of the sheets without protest.
It’s not until you step into the bathroom later in the day that you figured out why he looked at you that way. A few tender marks still spotted the left side of your neck and the top of your chest. While not the best first impression, it sends a wave of excitement through you at the sight. A bit of concealer goes a long way after you shower.
Tony explains that Harley is just stopping by briefly, and that he’ll be leaving after dinner tonight as you get dressed. You obviously spend the entire day worried about it, convinced any further interaction with Harley will be painfully awkward and uncomfortable for you both.
Unfortunately, you end up wishing things were just awkward.
Jarvis prepares an excellent meal, and you make it through the first two courses with Harley’s eyes piercing you across the large dining table. It’s not constant, as he manages to dart away each time Tony speaks to him as if he never looked your way. Engaging in conversation becomes troublesome under his gaze (though it’s mostly just Tony asking Harley about some trip he took). You almost start to think you’re imagining it, wondering what the hell his issue could possibly be.
Thankfully, Tony has to excuse himself for a phone call, leaving the two of you alone.
The moment Tony’s out of earshot, Harley leans in, placing his elbows on the table and clasping his hands.
“Are you even old enough to drink?” he questions dramatically.
“Are you?”
“Funny.” he snorts, taking a bite of roast potatoes.
He stays quiet for a second as Jarvis clears away empty dishes from the table.
“That’s not a yes, though.” he hums in a high pitch.
“If it would get you to stop staring, I’m twenty-six.”
Harley hums in approval, sitting back in his chair.
“Was that really your problem? You know you could’ve just asked at literally any point in the last hour, or hell, asked Tony.”
“Oh, I did.” he scoffs, shrugging his shoulders.
Tony returns, taking his seat in the same breath that Harley wipes his mouth and stands.
“Well, I’ll leave you and your child bride to it.” he declares sarcastically, turning for the exit.
“Excuse me?”
Tony’s voice stops Harley in his tracks, rising and closing the distance to the young man. You heard worse, but based on the tightness in his jaw you can assume Tony hasn’t.
“Oh, come on. She’s not even four years older than me. What else would you like to call it?” Harley jests, laughing.
“You have a flight to catch, don’t you?” The edge in his tone shocks you, and cuts Harley’s laughter straight away.
He takes his leave without another comment, but he does give you another overdramatic wave on the way out. You tell Tony what passed between you two in his absence and ask what all that was about, but Tony just shakes his head and apologizes.
You’re not sure why–it hardly bothered you as much as it did him.
Later that night you overhear Tony on the phone. You presume it’s with Harley, hearing Tony mention something about ‘showing more respect’ and ‘minding your own business’. You hope it isn’t Harley–even though the kid was an ass, Tony speaks with a ferocity that unnerves you just as the eavesdropper.
Fall passes by without more pop-up visits from impolite guests.
While painting will always be one of your first true loves, even the strongest of loves can grow tiring. The technical term is typically referred to as a lack of inspiration. You can’t get a single image out of your brain and onto a canvas. It’s a well deserved burnout though, the rest of the studio space lined with finished paintings. A consistent month and half of work proved quite the endeavor. Most are simple plays with color, though there are a few you came to be very proud of.
Yeah, a break would probably do you some good.
There’s more than one traditional seat for you to choose from, all extremely lush and definitely better for your back. The floor works a lot better though, so you stand and stretch the soreness from your body. Would you learn your lesson and sit in the chair next time? Nope.
The evening was growing near, evident by the lemony sky. Your hyperfixation meant a lot more nights indoors, even on the sparse evenings Tony was free. All signs pointed towards taking advantage of what was likely one the last warm nights of the season.
You wasted little time changing out of your paint covered sweats, throwing on a simple blue skirt and white sweater.
On your way downstairs to his office, you spot Jarvis in the kitchen preparing a drink you presume is for Tony.
“Oh, I can take that to him.” you intercept him at the bottom, taking the cold glass in your hands.
“Very well.” he nods to you, taking in your dressed up state as you walk away, not expecting either of you to leave the tower that night. “Shall I have the car ready for you and Mr. Stark?”
“For me, definitely. Can’t promise anything about him.” you call back to him, increasing your volume as you head further into the hall.
You knock once you reach the glass door, waiting idly until you hear his voice call out come in. Tony doesn’t lift his head when you enter, scrawling away at something atop his desk. You hear him muttering to himself softly, shirt disheveled and unbuttoned.
You’re certainly not silent as you cross the space. Your heavy boots made a mild thud on the hardwood floor, surely loud enough to get the average person’s attention, you thought.
Nope, wrong.
He does know you’re there, however– the screens in front of him are switched off as you approach the desk, head never lifting from the papers.
You wait patiently beside his desk, setting the drink down the corner. His attention doesn’t yield for no less than five minutes after. When he does finally address you, it’s with tired eyes and gleams.
“My, my, my,” he whistles, guiding you over to straddle his lap. “What a fantastic surprise.”
Tony’s hands can never be idle more than a moment, already snaking them under your skirt to the supple skin of your backside. He’s much more interested in that than anything you say about leaving the tower. Who could blame him, really. Any red-blooded man would after hours of phone calls and calculations.
You twitch when he squeezes hungrily, sensitive from the same hands the night prior. He’d nearly forgotten, and the remainder is a good amusement.
“You know, I could get so much more work done with you just like this.” he hums, lifting your sweater to graze your stomach.
“You’re welcome to join me.” you point out, linking your arms around his neck.
“There’s nothing more I want, but I have a few more things to take care of here.”
You figured as much, of course. Knowing that answer was coming doesn’t make it any less disappointing. Conversely, seeing your smile falter for any reason is akin to a tragedy for Tony.
“How about this, it’s still early– you go out, have fun, I’ll pick you up for dinner later.” he concedes.
That fixes the problem, earning Tony a very satisfied kiss from you. It’s long and heavy, nearly enough to make him consider sending you out on shaky legs, but he resolves to bring that fantasy to life another time.
An hour or so drifts away as you take in the fresh autumn air, window-shopping from store to store. Close to when you're due to meet Tony, you stumble across something you can’t be sure is a really bright bar or a super dark restaurant. As you go for a better look through the towering windows, the doors beside you swing open.
You spot Steve first, getting a clear view of a reddened cut above his eye. You fail at turning away from the door in time. It was worth a shot, even if he was just five feet away.
“Oh, would you knock it off–I’m not gonna bother you.” he exclaims exasperatedly, a deep slur in his words (so that solves that mystery).
You give a half-hearted surrender with your arms, watching him head for the street corner. Mid-way, he stops, turning back unsteadily.
“You still with Stark?” he questions.
“What’s it to you?”” you scoff, rolling your eyes. This was what you wanted to avoid–annoying people and their annoying judgements.
“Just don’t tell him you saw me, okay. I don’t need more shit with him right now.”
Remarkably, Steve sounds genuine. Well, as genuine as a drunk man can sound. A grand opportunity presents itself. Someone with a lot more information than you needs something of you.
“Sure, okay.” you agree, watching a breath leave Steve. “If you can tell me what you meant at the party.”
Steve, having drunk every drop of Kentucky Bourbon on the block, happily obliged your question for the small price of not dealing with Stark.
If asked to make a list of all the things you guessed Tony was involved in, your brain would assume the best of the worst to ease its conscience. Steve’s answer is, tragically, nowhere on that list.
You wander around for a bit playing moral adjudicator in your mind. It’s a consuming task, and in your concentration you space completely on the fact that you were expected somewhere. In your bag, your phone buzzes to no answer, muffled in the city’s noisy ambience.
You have to see for yourself, which makes the tower your destination after you’ve calmed your nerves enough. It’s been ages since you’ve taken the subway anywhere, though you somehow manage to work through the busy platforms. You remember you live in the age of technology, deciding to rely on your phone for navigation.
Two missed calls and around five unanswered texts from the past half hour await you, all from Tony. You swear to yourself as the train car rocks, hurriedly typing a response.
[ where are you? ]
[ on the way back now. didn’t feel well. ]
Lying feels like swallowing a bitter seed. You know that ‘s not an answer. You know you’ll have to find some way to explain the missed calls later. Honestly, that might be the harder task than covering a lie. All you hoped was that New York traffic would play in your favor and you could make it back before him.
The luscious bells of victory are right in your sight as elevator dings! open. Your genius plan to check his office is foiled quickly, the black card reader blinking back at you tauntingly.
A moment passes where you question your own motivations. Why were you even bothering to let someone else get into your head again? You could ask him anything, so why lie to him when you chose to stay in the dark–
You all but fly up the stairs, striding through Tony’s bedroom and into the bathroom. It takes a while for you to find it, having to scour the numerous cabinets one by one. Your hands touch a rough leather pouch, right under the sink.
You open it tentatively, praying for Steve to be wrong, but your fingers find the small plastic baggie within, and your stomach flips when you know he was telling the truth.
You don’t have long to process it. The elevator sounds again from below
Shit.
You thought you had more time to craft a better excuse.
“What happened? Everything okay?”
His voice is stern even if his words are sweet, turning his body towards yours as you enter the kitchen. Your hands reach for a glass to fill with water, needing a distraction to ward off his gaze.
“Got a little dizzy, took the subway back.”
“You took the subway alone? This late?”
You can’t tell if he’s wrestling between concern and suspicion, or just pissed. Although, here would be where a normal person would remember that under a year ago you took the subway later than this five nights a week.
“Yeah, it’s fine. I’m just going to get some rest.” you smile weakly, swallowing the rest of your water and heading to walk past him.
Tony makes a quick step to the side to keep you there, looking down at you with pointed eyes. Despite the small heat in his eyes, a hand caresses your jaw, thumb stroking your cheek.
“Who were you with?” he asks slowly.
“No one.” you replied, keeping your voice light and confident.
Or so you thought. Tony’s fingers wrap the base of your nape, tilting your head slightly to see if you have the gall to lie to his face.
“Is there a reason you’re lying to me?”
“How long?
“How long what?” he scoffs, unyielding.
The tiny plastic you’ve been white-knuckling for the past few minutes is dangled inches from his face. That hardened jaw falters, shortly returning with a dry chuckle and sly smirk.
“How long have you been meeting Steve behind my back?”
part four coming soon
tag request: @those-late-night-feels
#seikkoiwrites#tony stark x reader#tony stark#tony stark fanfiction#tony stark smut#marvel fanfiction#mcu fanfiction#tw dubious consent#tw dubcon
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In Your Eyes
Warnings: none (I think), let me know if I missed any :)
Parings: The Corinthian x child reader
Request: Can you do a Corinthian x reader? I am absolutely obsessed with the series now. And when the reader finds out about Corinthian's eyes, she doesnt care (still quite shocked tho) because she loves him
Request by: @popfishjr
*not my gif*
Summary: When you asked about his glasses, he prepared himself for the worst
A/N: This was really short and rushed 😭😭 Sorry
Please don’t plagiarize my work, you may reblog if you like but I’m asking that you don’t steal my hard work
“It’s time for bed, little one.” The Corinthians teasing voice echoed off the walls as he crept closer and closer to your hiding place.
A giggle erupted through you, and you slapped a hand over your mouth to tried and silence it and not give away your hiding place.
He grinned, staring at the closest door he knew you were hiding behind, “Hmm,” He made as sound as if he were thinking, “I wonder where she could be?”
This time, a full blown laugh raked through your body at your adopted fathers inability to find your top tier hiding place.
Without a warning, the door flew open and you let out a scream, jumping backwards and letting your back hit the wall.
The Corinthian chuckled, reaching out and scooping you up in his arms, “I said it was time for bed.” He playfully poked you in the tummy and you squealed.
“Not tired!” You protested, trying to dodge his fingers.
“No,” He tutted, “I think you’re actually very tired, you just don’t know it.”
A frown tugged on your lips as you pondered this, “Why don’t I know?”
He suppressed a grin, “Well, that’s for you to figure out, little one.”
You were silent as he trekked the two of you through your apartment before dumping you on the bed and emitting some giggles from you once more.
“Okay, little one.” He said, pressing a kiss to your temple, “Good night.”
He was just about to turn on his heel and exit when your small voice called out, catching his attention, “Daddy?” He turned with raised eyebrows, “Why do you wear glasses?”
The man stilled, every nerve in his body tensing up at the innocent question, suddenly becoming aware of the slight weight that the black shades held against his ears and nose.
“Why do you ask?” He asked after a painful moment of silence that consisted of you looking up at him with those wide, doe eyes of yours.
You crawled over your sheets and reached as high as you could while sitting on your knees, trying to take them off, “You always wear them.” You said matter-of-factly.
He forced a smile, gently pushing your hands away, “Well, it’s probably for the best, if I’m being honest.”
You dropped back down with a pout, crossing your arms and staring up at your father with wide, puppy dog eyes that you both knew he couldn’t resist. It was his fatal flaw, if he was being completely honest.
A sigh escaped from him as he braced himself for the worst, slowly as possible moving his hand up and removing his glasses, waiting for the screaming and crying to begin.
His eyes quickly averted before they could analyze your surly horror filled expression, but when no sound was emitted from you, he slowly peeled his gaze off the ground before looking over at you.
The look on your face was the exact opposite of what he expected and feared. You were sitting with your mouth open and eyes wide as you stared up at him in complete awe.
Without hesitating, you once again crawled along the bed and stood up, reaching your hands to lazily grab the sides of his face and pull him down to your height.
The Corinthian was in such shock that he didn’t even know how to react, just allowed you to do as you wished.
Quickly, you gave him two sloppy kisses, one on each cheek, before happily saying, “Cool, daddy.”
Then, you flopped back on the bed and crawled under your warm covers, falling asleep before your head even hit the pillow.
He was still standing there, frozen, long after your breathing evened out.
You weren’t scared. You didn’t run away screaming. You still loved him. Nothing changed.
A ghost smile slowly made its way onto his face as he bent down to kiss your forehead. He really couldn’t have asked for a better daughter.
The Endless 🌌- @popfishjr
#platonic#platonic imagine#x reader#child reader#the sandman fanfic#the sandman netflix#the sandman x reader#sandman x reader#the corinthian#the corinthian x reader#the Corinthian x reader platonic#the Corinthian x child reader
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ROTG x Child!Reader
(Part 1)
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Jack : So..North...Hypothetically speaking...
North : *sighs* What did you do now?(눈‸눈)
Jack : *scoffs* Why do you always thing I'm always 'Up to Something'?! (ಠ︵ಠ)
North : Because you are (눈‸눈)
Jack : *gasps* I-I'll pretend I didn't hear that.. Anyway, so hypothetically speaking... What if... Remember I'm just being "hypothetical"... What if a guardian finds a child that can use and manipulate magic as well? And knows everything about everyone and everything that happened..?
North: ...
Jack : ...?
North : That hasn't happened...yet. Why do you ask? *raises eyebrow*
Jack : Erm...I, you know...Had a dream that uh- Jamie!Yeah Jamie was using snow like me! YEAH!
North : Hm.. Is there something else I'm supposed to know..? (ಠಿ_ಠ)
Jack : Nope ^^!! Thanks dad! I MEANT NORTH!! *flys away* (I believe I can fly-)
North : *mentally* He called me dad..(•́ ‿ ,•̀)
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Jack : *Carrying a toddler (that's you, reader-chan) on his back* Ok, so...nobody knows about you..Yet. Here's what we're gonna do, we're gonna-
Bunny : Who're you talking to?
Jack : *Didn't noticed Bunny until then* *shocked jump* Huh?! Oh hi..Uh..You.
Bunny: You're acting kind of weird... Wh-what's going on?
Jack :Why would you say that? I'm perfectly normal!!Perfectly..Normal..Ye...
Bunny :What're you hiding?
Jack : *Tries to covers you with his hands* Nothing!
Bunny : *mumbles* Oh really...
Bunny : Alright then, I'll see you around...partner... * "Walks" away*
Jack : *sigh of relief*
Bunny : NOT BEFORE I SEE YOUR SECRET!!! *pounces on Jack*
Bunny : Huh? Is this some sort of prank..?
Jack : Listen, I know I'm not suppos-
Bunny : Why do you lie about hiding something when there's nothing? Honestly it doesn't make sense..(ಠಿ_ಠಿ)
Jack : *confusion* Wh...at? You don't see the child..?
Bunny : Child? What child? Did you hit your head on something..? 'Cauze I think you're going bonkers-
Jack : Maybe I was day-dreaming!! Hah!! *awkwardly leaves with you in tow*
Bunny : Uhm...North your problem child is being weird agai-
#Rotg#rise of the guardians#Y/N#rotg x reader#child!reader#Rotg x child!reader#Jack Frost#Bunnymund#North#Toothiana#Pitch#Sandman#Jamie Bennet#Sophie Bennet#and co#ROTG x Child!Reader
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May i request a sandman fic where Dream is forced to interact with children, preferably with Death
(also, despite death being there, could you perhaps not make it depressing)
Didi's Brother
Dream of the Endless x Reader (but its mostly dream & ze baby boy)
Summary: "Di!" I rather excitedly called, grabbing the woman by the arm, "you didn't tell me your brother was hot." She laughs, "don't you think it would be rather odd if I told you 'oh, I have a hot brother.'"
Word Count: 1k+
Warnings: fem!reader, single mom!reader, Death is referred to as Didi, Dream boy Morpheus is referred to as Murphy, fluff, angst?, typos, etc.
A/N: i hope you like it!!! its pretty fluff! and also nonnie ???? it's never depressing when death is around!!! HAHAHH i made the kid a baby boy because i normally write dream in a girl dad lens. boy dad time HAHAHH
Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @sloanexx @deniixlovezelda @shadow-pancake9
The moment the boy heard a knock on the door, he scrambled in excitement and ran to the door screaming, "MUMMA, SOMEONE'S AT THE DOOR!"
Upon hearing this from the bathroom, I yell back, "okay, I'll be out in a minute. Don't open the door."
The child nodded but ran to the door anyway, checking to see who it was, pressing his cheek to the entrance. He hoped it was their neighbor. She was an old lady who always gave him sweeties (in secret).
When he doesn't hear anything, he pulls away and busts a lung out, "WHO IS IT!"
He hears a chuckle.
"It's auntie Didi!"
Oh em gee, that was even better!!!!!
"MUMMA!" the boy screams his guts out that it echoes inside the bathroom.
I sigh but chuckle. I flush and step out.
"HURRY IT'S AUNTIE DIDI! MUMMA! mUMmA! MUMMA! M U M M A !"
"Goodness," I huff as I jog towards my son, who was jumping in excitement, "give me a chance."
The moment the door opens, the boy leaps towards the dark clothed woman and strangles her legs, "HIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII!"
Both of us look down and chuckle at the boy. Didi brushes his wispy hair back and gently pinches his cheek, "hello, Benji."
"HI, AUNTIE DIDI!"
I lean in and hug the woman, "hey, Didi, thanks for coming."
Didi chckles, "happy to watch this sweetheart."
When we pull away, I then lock eyes with the man behind her. My lips part at his dark eyeliner, sharp cheekbones, and messy hair, "oh... hello there."
"Greetings," he says, lips barely curving into a smile.
Didi turns over her shoulder, "this is my brother, Murphy."
"Oh," I say, unable to take my eyes off him, but do so rather reluctantly.
"I hope you don't mind. He's going to be babysitting with me today."
Upon hearing this, Benji pulls away from Didi and peeks behind her, examining the tall man. Seeing that he looks quite similar to his beloved auntie Didi, with their goth aesthetics, he agrees with himself that he's probably going to be just as fun as her.
This was how Murphy became Benji's right-hand construction man as he busied himself in the livingroom, building a fort.
"HMMM," he hums loudly, "I think you should up and-" he fixes the pillow walls, "-and- and get mumma's pillows because it's falling!"
"Benji, no," I call as I hear this. I adjust my coat on my shoulders as I head for the door, "just use the pillows here."
Benji whines as his right hand man kneels down next to him to keep the pillows from falling. The boy protests, "but mumma!!!!"
"If you want him to get the pillows, you have to go up with him," I say as Didi chuckles at the child, "and you have to ask him politely."
Benji beams and immediately yanks Murphy from the fort, making it topple down, "uncle Murphy, can we please, please, please get some pillows upstairs."
"Benji," I warn.
Murphy stands and nods, "very well."
Benji excitedly drags him with all his strength, "we can get the stuffed toys too!!!! MR. SNUFFALUFFAGUS!"
I watch as Murphy bends to allow the boy to drag him by the hand up the stairs. I turn to Didi, who is also watching them go upstairs.
Because of the boys short legs, it takes rather long for them to climb the steps one by one. Murphy pulls his hand out of the boy's grip to hold him on both arms, "would you like to hold on the hand rails, Benjamin?"
Benji turns to Murphy and reaches out to him instead, "carry?"
Murphy stills for a moment, but then picks up the child, craddling him in his arms. Something happens to my heart as I watch him climb the stairs with my baby. Once they are at the top, my stomach flurries at the sight of him tickling my son sweetly.
"Di!" I rather excitedly called, grabbing the woman by the arm, "you didn't tell me your brother was hot."
She laughs, "don't you think it would be rather odd if I told you 'oh, I have a hot brother.'"
I burst into a fit of laughter, "point taken."
Didi giggles with me.
"So... is he single?"
Didi rolls her eyes, "why don't you ask him yourself?"
I clear my throat and shake my head, "just curious..."
She raises a brow and crosses her arms.
"Are you sure it's alright for him to watch Benji with you?"
She shakes her head, "oh, you saw them. Just go already, unless you wanna be late. And anyway, I'll be right here the whole time."
Eventually, all the pillows in the house were used to fortify the castle upon the couch. Murphy was then assigned to play a monster and Didi was assigned as a fairy. Benji was obviously a knight.
"Okay," Benji points as he looks to Murphy, "destroy the castle."
He is a bit shocked, "must I? We spent much time balancing the pillows in order to stand like this."
Benji shakes his hands, "no, you have to-" but then hurtles himself into the plush pillows and destroys it himself as he growls.
Didi giggles as he watches the child do this. Murphy watches, entirely still.
Once destruction was laid upon the pillowy castle, Benji stands and then gasps, "OH NO THE MONSTER DESTROYED IT!"
Didi places a hand on her lips, holding back her laughter, "gosh. Don't you just hate it when that happens?"
Murphy finally understand his role. He crosses his arms then tilts his head, a rather threatening stance in all honesty. The prince of stories muses, "𝔫𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔯𝔢𝔪𝔞𝔦𝔫𝔰 𝔬𝔣 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔥𝔬𝔲𝔰𝔢. ℑ 𝔥𝔞𝔳𝔢 𝔰𝔥𝔞𝔨𝔢𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔶 𝔣𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔡𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫𝔰 𝔬𝔣 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔩𝔪. 𝔔𝔲𝔞𝔨𝔢 𝔟𝔢𝔫𝔢𝔞𝔱𝔥 𝔪𝔶-" SMACK!
Benji takes a pillow and wacks it across the monster's waist in the middle of his speech.
Flabbergasted, Murphy could not do much other than accept the assualt of the Knight of Featherdown. The pillow slips out of Benji's hand because of a particularly hard hit on the man's leg. The boy then grabs the other pillows and stuffed toys, chucking it to Murphy. It barely hits the monster because of knight's poor hand-eye coordination.
Didi laughs, "the fairy will help!"
And so the knight and the fairy fight the monster until he gets the wits to grab a pillow and shield himself.
"ℑ 𝔴𝔦𝔩𝔩 𝔫𝔬𝔱 𝔟𝔢 𝔡𝔢𝔣𝔢𝔞𝔱𝔢𝔡!" Murphy proclaims, "ℑ 𝔰𝔥𝔞𝔩𝔩 𝔡𝔢𝔳𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔩𝔪!"
His sister translates for the boy, "sir Benji! He says he's going to eat everything!"
"NOOOOO! YOU DON'T EAT PILLOWS!"
"𝔅𝔲𝔱 ℑ 𝔞𝔪 𝔢𝔳𝔦𝔩 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔭𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔬𝔴 𝔪𝔬𝔫𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯."
Benji growls through a giggle, "GOOD ALWAYS WINS!"
Eventually, Murphy is defeated, sprawled chest down on the carpet, a five year old sat on his back victoriously.
Benji, thoroughly excited by the turn of events, giggles as he catches his breath. He decides to mimic the man and lie chest down on Murphy's back. The latter feels his cells come alive at the feel of the boy's heartbeat.
"You are a valiant opponent, Sir Benjamin," Murphy mutters.
Didi chuckles and sits down next to them. She rubs the kid's back, "he means your a great knight, Benji."
"Indeed."
Benji turns to Didi then slides off Murphy. The boy walks over to her, "Aunti Didi."
"Yes, sweetheart?"
"Is Murphy a puppa?"
Didi blinks and turns to her brother. She places her hand on the boy's back, "why don't you ask him."
Murphy, who obviously heard this, pushes himself up and sits down, waiting to be asked.
Benji turns to him, "are you a puppa?"
He straightens his back and nods, "I am."
"Do you have a son?"
"I do."
Upon hearing this, the boy frowns, "oh."
Didi brushes the boy's hair, "why do you ask, Benji?"
Benji shakes his head and gives no response.
Lord Morhpeus does not like this, and so, he makes the child sleepy.
Benji yawns and stretches.
Didi smiles at him, "wanna take a nap?"
Benji nods.
The moment Benjamin goes to sleep, Murphy meets him in the Dreaming. The child is clad in armor and is sat upon the back of a unicorn. Murphy asks the knight what his question meant and the boy tells him he wanted to ask him to be his puppa.
Murphy thinks about the boy's words for a moment then nods, "I will be your puppa whenever you are in my realm."
Sir Benjamin, Knight of Featherdown, beams, "thank you, puppa."
#dream of the endless fanfic#dream & reader#dream of the endless fluff#the sandman fanfic#the sandman fluff#morpheus fluff#dream fanfic#dad!dream of the endless#dream & child!reader#dream x reader#dream of the endless x reader#papa bear!dream#dream of the endless angst#morpheus fanfic#morpheus angst#the sandman angst
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Gone
Dream of the Endless x FemReader
I was going to make this longer but I'm honestly just dipping my toes in the water with writing right now.
Summary- Y/n is gone but Dream can't seem accept that.
Warnings- Mentions of death, hallucinations, lost grip on reality. I guess you could count this as angst-no-comfort.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Y/n had been gone for weeks now, and Morpheus was beginning to lose his grip on reality. The once-majestic palace of the Dreaming was now in disarray, with books and papers strewn about haphazardly.
Matthew flew around the room, trying to find his master's attention. "Morpheus, you must eat something. You haven't left this room in days," he screeched. Morpheus barely looked up from his large chair before dismissing him with a wave of his hand. "I don't feel hunger," he muttered, his voice rough and cracked.
At that moment, Y/n appeared before him. She was just as she always looked - her hair pulled into a low braid, oversized sweater draped over her shoulders, and a wide smile on her face. If Morpheus didn't know better, he would think she was still alive.
"Heya!" she exclaimed cheerily. "What's all this mess about?" She gestured to the piles of books before glancing back at Morpheus with concern in her eyes.
"Morpheus…" Her voice turned serious as she lowered her voice so only they could hear one another. "You know I'm not actually here."
"I don't want to talk about it," Morpheus said curtly before standing up from his chair.
"We can't keep doing this," Y/n pressed, following behind him as if they were always walking together side by side. "You can't keep denying my death."
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Shout out to- @just-some-random-blogger love her- go check her out- she writes for just about any hot dude- jkjk- but she does write a lot of good stuff
#the sandman#dream x reader#the sandman x reader#the sandman x you#the sandman x y/n#dream of the endless#dream of the endless x y/n#morpheus x you#dream of the endless x reader#the sandman imagine#blurb#sandman blurb#short fic#angst#fem child reader
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horny dad jaehyun
hands off || jeong.j
genre: fluff and smut
warnings: creampie, horny dad!jaehyun, clit play, dirty talking, sexual touching, groping (ass and tits), nipple kink (sucking and pinching), unprotected sex missionary and riding.
pairing: horny dilf!jaehyun x milf!reader,, extras: dreamies (no mark, sorry!), jaemin as the son and sungchan as the baby brother!
6K post! thank you, loves! i love you all so so much! i am very grateful for you all. thank you for the love and support! 💗
“mom! dad! i’m home from school! and i brought some friends!” jaemin shouts and tucks his keys away into his backpack.
“welcome home, hon. hi, boys.” you greet the group of teens. “you boys hungry?” you adjust the child on your right hip. “ah, we just had tteokbokki, ma.” jaemin throws a frown towards you. “oh, that’s okay. just let me know if you boys are hungry or bored.”
they all nod before running off to jaemins room.
you turn when hearing heavy breathing. “hey, babe. did you fix rubies sink?” rubie is the seventy-six year old neighbor who lived alone and behind your house. “yep— she tried paying me again, but i declined it.” he yanks his shirt off and uses it to wipe his sweat.
“such a sweet old lady.” you walk up to him and you lift yourself on your tiptoes while pressing your lips onto his.
“is jaemin home now?” you nod, adjusting the boy on your hip again. “he is— and he brought some of his friends. i totally forgot that he’d asked me last week if he could have some friends over to spend the night. i mean, i didn’t even get food and snacks and drinks— oh, my.” you sigh dramatically and jaehyun chuckles. “i can run to the store and get some things for them. board games, snacks, juice, movies, dinner?”
you grin in relief. “i’m so thankful to have you.” you press your hand on his chest before leaning up and pressing your lips onto his again. “and i’m very thankful to have you.” he stares at your lips as you pull away.
the boy on your hip starts to fuss as jaehyun pats your hips. “ooohh’m, you getting mad?” you push your lips out at the boy who starts to whine. “you hungry? mm’okay, let’s get some nummy food.” your husband stares down at you with the toothy and goofiest grin.
“hi, sweet boy. did you just wake up from your nap?” jaehyun asks— after all, the child cried for hours because of a small fever. “what a cutie.” jaehyun lightly pinches the boys cheek.
you frown as the boy starts to whine. “awww, is daddy being mean? say, no daddy. be nice.” you mimic a baby voice and jaehyun laughs.
“alright, i’ll go get the stuff and you’ll feed sungchan?” you nod and jaehyun plants a kiss on your forehead. “okay, i’ll be back in an hour or so.” he says checking his watch. “‘kay, love you.” you lean forward. “love you more.” he presses his lips onto yours before he swipe his phone, keys and wallet off the kitchen counter and leave.
it was 8PM and dinner was finished.
“jaemin, sweetheart, do you mind doing the dishes before you go play games with dad and your friends?” jaemin nods, quickly finishing his bowl before coming over to you. “thanks, hon.” you side-hug him and press a kiss on his temple.
“mrs jeong, may i know how you made this dish? i want to make it for my mom one day.” haechan asks and you grin.
you were gonna get into this. “i diced some garlic into small pieces and let it simmer in some oil. then i added some meat and let it cook for a bit until adding some oyster sauce and some chili powder. then i added some buk-choi after the meat was cooked.”
the group of boys hum. “did you guys—? oohh, no! channie!” you gasp when seeing channie covered in baby food.
you make your way to the boy who giggles. “he looks like an actual sandman character!” jeno points out making sungchan giggle even more. “is that’s funny, channie?” you ask the boy who tosses his arms up.
“now, we definitely have to give you a bath tonight.” you sigh, undoing the tray from his high-chair and unbuckling him out. “okay, well you boys do what you want— i’m gonna go give this little boy a bath.” you tickle his belly making him giggle.
they watch as you leave upstairs. “what a milf.” haechan makes a comment and earns a smack to his head from jaemin who returns from the kitchen. “i’m sorry.” he hangs his head low and quickly apologizes. “don’t make those comments about my mom.” jaemin grits his teeth and curls his lip.
“alright boys,” jaehyun comes into the dining room and claps his hands together. “you boys ready to play some games? i set it all up.” they quickly cheer and hop out of their seats.
“is everyone comfortable?” you ask after the movie is finished. “yes!” they all answer and you grin.
it was 11PM and they’d just finish playing games, meanwhile you had to put sungchan to bed before wishing the boys a goodnight.
“goodnight, kiddos. sweet dreams and, don’t let the bedbugs bite. tomorrow we’ll get up early and i’ll make some delicious breakfast for us before we head out and mess around.” you shut the light off and they all wish you a goodnight as you shut the door.
you sigh as you make your way to your bedroom. “hi, baby.” jaehyun was yanking off his shirt when he greets you. “hi, hon.” you tiredly grin, swiping your shirt off and grab the shirt he had just took off.
“ah,” his head turns to you. “baby, that’s dir—?” he pauses and clears his throat. “your.. you aren’t wearing a bra.” you toss the shirt over your head. “yeah, i didn’t feel like wearing one today.” you fix the shirt.
you look up to see your husband flushed.
after being married for years, he’d always get shy when seeing you naked.
“uhm,” he clears his throat. “i’ve been wearing that shirt all day, im sure it’s dirty. how about we get you a clean one of mine from the closet—?” you press your lips together. “mm, i guess you have a point.”
he gulps as you swipe the shirt off again. “or.. or you don’t have to wear a shirt to bed, tonight?” a smile grows on your lips. “i guess we could also do that.” he gets giddy as you toss the shirt.
“i feel.. so exposed?” you laugh and cover yourself. “what? no, no. you look so beautiful.” he takes a step closer and cups your breast from underneath.
with puppy eyes, he looks at you. “may i?” you knew what he wanted, so you nodded.
he picked you up and places you on the dresser under the TV. his mouth is then attached to you nipple after you had wrapped your arms around his neck.
he groans in satisfaction.
you tasted like sweet honey.
you run your fingers through his semi-wet hair. taking a fistful of it from the scalp. you chew on your bottom lip, not wanting to be loud as you moan quietly.
he tongue swirls around your hard nipple and sucks. he bites down making you gasp a bit. “mr jeong,” you say in a teasing tone. he groans around your nipple, again and lifts you off the dresser.
he lays you down on the bed and climbs on top of you. “my pretty lady.” he whispers, swiping your nipple with his thumb. “such a pretty.. pretty lady.” he undoes his sweats and hisses when grazing his rock-hard cock.
“feel what you do to me, baby.” he brings your hand down and allows you to fist his cock. “oh, baby.” he groans, hiding his face into your neck.
you lift his head and look down at his plumped lips. “you’re so loud, baby. do you want to wake up the boys?” jaehyun groans and brings his red face back into the crook of your neck. you grab his hand and push aside your panties, placing his hand on your core.
“fuck, you’re so wet.” jaehyun sighs and slips in two fingers making you arch your back off the bed. “and only for you.” you whisper and jaehyun flips the two of you over.
“ride me, baby.” jaehyun says, his pink cock sitting against his abdomen while your pussy drips.
you stand his cock up and sink yourself down on his cock. long extended groans leaving jaehyun and your throats.
“fuck.” jaehyun squeezes your waist and slowly pushes up. “slow.” you say, hands around his wrists. “whatever you want, baby.” jaehyun guides your hips back and forth.
your clit rubbing against his base as you moan under your breath.
you sigh and lower your upper half down, pressing your breasts firmly against jaehyuns chest. “how does it feel, baby?”
like your head weighted 300 pounds.
“feels.. so amazing.” jaehyun holds your hips still and pushes up his hips. “sit still and let me hear how pretty you sound.” jaehyun grunts and slides his hand down your ass cheek.
your moans and whimpers growing louder and louder by each second. “j—jae, i—i’m gonna cum.” you gasp and arch your chest against jaehyuns. “go ahead, baby. cum for me.”
jaehyun fucks you through your orgasm. “ah—!” jaehyun winces at your teeth digging into his shoulder. “fuck, baby.” jaehyun groans and plows harder. his balls flying up and smacking against your ass.
“b—babe!” jaehyun covers your mouth when you accidentally scream too loud. but, you could care less. your g-spot was busy being assaulted by his tip. “and, i—im the loud one?” jaehyun laughs.
after several more minutes, jaehyun releases his load with a groan. his teeth attacking your flesh while his cum dribbles past your lips.
jaehyun flips the two of you over and pushes himself up, his cock slowly drawing out. “round two?” you ask and jaehyun smirks. “of course, baby.” you groan and jaehyun laughs.
“i’ll do the work, momma.” jaehyun holds your legs up and hangs them over his shoulders.
“oh, my god.” you gasp and place your hand on jaehyuns hip when he pushes in. “shh, lets not wake up the boys and ruin mommy and daddy time.” jaehyun spanks your ass.
you grab the pillow and cover your face, muffling your screams and moans. “you’re so cute when you do that.” jaehyun rubs the stinging area where jaehyun had smacked just a few seconds ago.
“your pussy feels so good, baby.” jaehyun places his thumb on your clit and your hips stutter. “s—stop!” you hold his hand but he grabs your hand and pushes it away.
you clench around him and jaehyun lands another smack on your ass. “don’t tease me like that, baby.”
you and jaehyun went, again for several more rounds.
“did anyone hear what happened last night?” jeno asks when everyone else wakes up. “what happened?” haechan asks. “did sungchan wake up and cry all night?” jaemin asks and jeno shakes his head.
“your parents were having sex all night.” jaemin groans and covers his ears.
they all flinch when they door swings open. “oh, good. you boys are awake.” you grin at the boys. “i was just going to make breakfast. it’ll be ready in a few minutes.” you slowly close the door.
“milf.” haechan says and covers his head this time.
A/N: this was so shit.
#anon#nct smut#nct imagines#nct scenarios#kpop imagines#kpop smut#kpop fluff#nct 127#ash talks#nctsplug02#jung jaehyun imagines#nct jaehyun#jeong jaehyun fluff#jaehyun fluff#jaehyun angst#jaehyun smut#nct dilf#nct dad au#jaemin fluff
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Bring Me To Life| Sandman Imagine
Summary: Y/N is part of the Burgess family, somewhat of a black sheep, when she finds the prisoner her family has kept for 90 years, your father finds a way to dispose of his own daughter. Imprisoning her with The Dream Lord.
Pairing: Morpheus x Burguess! Reader
Requested: Yes
Author’s note: Will be updating my tag list so please comment if you want in on out of it!
You were always aware you were different from your family, they were always so shallow, empty, even.
Your father was nephew of the wealthy Roderick Burgess, and if Roderick was cruel and despicable, your father Maurice was much more worse.
For starters, he had way too many children, you were clearly the one in the middle, having many responsibilities that no child should have at your age, and even when you did everything you could to earn your father’s love and acceptance, you only got hatred in return.
He genuinely hated your guts.
His words, not yours.
But still someone a part of you was holding onto hope that maybe one day he would learn to love you.
While you waited for that day to come, you did your best to blend into the background, which for the record, wasn’t hard at all with six teens running around the house screaming all day long.
By your twenties you were a master of truly “minding your shit” as your father used to tell you, one particular day, everyone had gone hunting as the only female, it was easy to leave you behind.
You would be lying if you said that you weren’t bored out of your mind after a while, and then like a light switch, you remembered the house had a basement.
As any forgotten part of the house, you were told multiple times to leave it, to never even think of it, but at least the mysterious basement had to be more interesting than this empty mansion.
What you did not prepare for, was to find some… being trapped in a glass prison, he seemed like a man but something about him felt supernatural, extraordinary even.
His eyes followed even the slightest of your moves. As your fingertips merely crashed the cold surface of the glass, the eyes of the “man” opened wider, a distorted reflection of your father’s knowing figure, holding s large object, but before you could turn to face him.
All was suddenly black after a sharp pain hit the back of your neck and a buzz on your ears.
As you regained consciousness, your senses buzzed, everything somehow felt colder, lonelier, wrong…
When turning your head, you noticed the being you were staring at on the other side of the glass; only this time, he was right beside you.
Completely startled you backed away, until you met the cold surface of the bubble you were now trapped in.
You noticed more now the nakedness of the man (that is to refer to him because quite frankly, he was anything but human), which made your cheeks turn red and more than ever you appreciated your own clothes.
Tears were streaming down your face quietly and you wiped them away as soon as the left your eyes, embarrassed for this stranger to see you at your very worst.
“Morpheus”.
A voice inside your head spoke calmly but loudly, you turned to see the man beside you, empathy could be seen in his features, his hand softly grazing yours.
It had been so long since he last touched anyone, your skin felt soft and warm to the touch, it was something that now his heart longed for.
You didn’t know what it was, maybe the despair of being trapped here for God knows how long, the confusion and anger that came as to why you were here or the overall sadness.
Whatever it might’ve been, you found yourself embracing Morpheus softly by the neck, hiding your face as you sobbed lightly.
The Dream Lord was startled at first, but delicately his hands found a place in your back and to your waist he was letting you have complete control over this moment, he did not wish to touch you in any way that would make you uncomfortable.
He let you hold onto him as long and as hard as you needed to, but he knew his role there was only to contain your sadness until it went away.
“It is nice to know you, Morpheus” you whispered in his ear after a long period of sadness.
Ten long years had passed since you were trapped in the bubble prison with Morpheus, and you would be lying if you said you hadn’t developed a particular affection towards each other as well as a complex non-spoken communication between the two, he would let his voice echo your mind every now and then, but mostly, by simply looking at each other it was enough to know it all.
It hurt to think that nobody was looking for you, but then again, you would not be surprised by this, yet, a naive part of you thought maybe they were looking. Truth be told, if they were, they would’ve found you by now. After all, you were still in the same damn house.
But today something happened, Alex Burgess, your uncle, had gone down to see you two, it had been years since you saw him, but he was indeed, fragile and old, almost at the end of his days.
His eyes fell on you, you could see the sense of recognition in his gaze but quickly his eyes diverted to the King of dreams, completely disregarding your presence.
You held onto Morpheus’ arm trying to hold back on your anger as Alex Burgess went on his monologue to the King of Dreams about how he had done wrong in not wanting to be free all those years ago.
But you understood his motives as to why he didn’t chose freedom, his companion deserved that the perpetrators of her cold blooded murder paid the price.
Truth be told, it also did rub the wrong way to Morpheus how your own blood ignored you, after spending a decade by your side, he had gotten to know your very essence and in full honesty, you deserved something better than the rotten tree you were born in.
But something happened, as Alex turned his wheels to leave, the restraining runes were slightly wiped off.
You both looked at one another, acknowledging the window of opportunity you were given by the neglect of Alex.
For the first time in a decade you recognized in the eyes of the other, the almost foreign sentiment of hope, you step aside, letting Morpheus concentrate as you understood the only one who could set you free now was him.
Everything to you, seemed to happen in the blink of an eye, the cracks, the breaking, the shots fired and as Morpheus conjured some sort of vortex, he stretched out his hand for you to reach.
Going with him, was tempting, but you knew now as you stood in front of him, your journeys were very different, he had a kingdom to restore while you had to figure your own identity outside of the Burgess last name, to find if, you had any other living relatives, to find answers to all your questions.
You smiled at him, in a way which he understood it all.
“There will always be a place for you in the Dreaming Y/N Burgess” he finally spoke, after all those ages of silence, it wasn’t just a voice echoing in your brain, it was real.
You nodded, at the very edge of tears, the mixture of relief and nostalgia for this chapter of your life ending becoming all so overwhelming.
“I’ll come and find you, King of Dreams” you promised to him, the corners of his mouth lifting in the ghost of a smile.
“Till we meet again” he said taking your hand and planting a subtle kiss on it before going back to his world.
Leaving you be in yours.
But even as the chapter of your imprisonment came to and end, you knew, deep in your heart, your story with the myth in the flesh, was far from over.
Taglist: @emiemiemiii @ladyfairenvale @hungrhay @aurorarevenclaw1927 @adishax @meganmayhem89 @mrs-captainsteverogers @hb8301 @sarahbullet235 @bambooing-shenanigans @queenshelby @characterxreaderimagine @emarich7 @carolcrysis @sister-of-stars @coolsnowker @vvsdreaming @jesllianaquilesrolon @supermegapauselouca
#the sandman comics#sandman imagine#sandman netflix#dream of the endless#morpheus dream#sandman x reader#dream of the endless x reader#sandman shitpost#sandman dream#sandman x y/n#morpheus sandman#morpheus x reader#morpheus x you#lord morpheus#lord morpheus x reader
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