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yandere-writer-momo · 11 months

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Yandere Short Stories: Love Me More

Yandere Supervillian x Afab Reader x Ex Superhero

In honor of spooky month, you’re all getting some of my old original thriller works. Enjoy

8.4 k words

Buy Me a Coffee, Please?

Crescent shaped wounds formed on the palms of soft (skin color) hands while (eye color) eyes stared holes into the tv and the daily broadcast. Blood dripping from the young woman’s lips from the force of her biting them.

“Today’s broadcast starts off with the news of the blooming relationship between the superhero Hydro and Heroine Terra. The two started off as partners on missions before taking their relationship to the next level! Who knew such chemistry existed between the two?!” A reporter stated while showing videos of the blonde haired hero kissing a pink haired woman. The two did look good together but there was only one problem. Hydro, no… Reign, was (your name)’s boyfriend.

Reign had always told her not to use the tv remote but she was just so bored in the house. Ever since powers had started appearing seven years ago from a mysterious storm, Reign had been keeping her locked up in their shared house. The blonde had insisted it was for her utmost safety, but now (your name) felt like it was all just a rouse to keep her in the dark on his affair.

A scream left (your name)’s throat as she began pressing all the tv buttons in frustration before throwing the tv remote away from the couch. A small thud echoing in the room while the tv screen turned black.

The young woman began to shake as she tried to conceal her sobs while she patiently waited for her boyfriend to come home. Her form shaking as she gazed numbly at the blood dripping from her hands.

She had waited an entire week for him to return from his latest mission. She had been worried sick about him since he hadn’t answered her calls or texts asking how he is or what he was doing. And now (your name) knew why. The true reason in why Reign never replied… was because he had another woman in his life.

Seven years down the drain. She has always wondered why he hadn’t taken her on dates in the last two years since he had risen to stardom. Why he wasn’t as affectionate before or as talkative. Why he never held her or told her he loved her as much anymore.

Perhaps some part of herself had deluded her into believing it was just a phase. Never in her life would she have thought she would be the phase. This was no Superman and Louis Lane love story. This was real life.

Reign would never want to be associated with a girl who had a low grade power like hers. What good was a healing power if she couldn’t even heal a partner who was never injured anymore?

(Your name) and him would never get married or have the happy ending she had always hoped to have since her rough childhood. It would only be Reign and Terra’s. The perfect super couple that took the nation by storm.

(Your name) sighed, a few tears falling down her face. She had thought his sudden avoidance of her was due to the high stress of his work. So she had given him space to organize his thoughts and feelings. The young woman had tried so hard to comfort him with his favorite foods, writing him notes everyday, and making sure their home was always clean. And for what? For him to cheat on her and lie about it? Did he even deserve a good bye?

(Your name) thought for a moment before releasing a sad sigh. Reign truly didn’t deserve anymore than she could possibly offer him. He didn’t deserve a good bye. Especially not when he was the one who left first.

(Your name) knew what she needed to do. It was time to let go before she became even more of a mess. But first, she should clean up her hands and lips.

The young woman walked to the bathroom and began rinsing her hands, the hot water stinging the self inflicted wounds lightly. Dull (eye color) orbs staring at her reflection as she released a sigh. She practically looked like a corpse with the bags under her eyes. When was the last time she smiled anyways? Has it truly been a year since she truly felt anything?

A light green glow left her hands as she healed her broken skin. It was the least she could do so no one thought she was insane when she walked out of this house with a duffle bag.

(Your name) shut off the water before heading into her separate room to pack her things. The couple hadn’t slept together in months and it really took a toll on her. It was pathetic just how far she had let herself wallow in self loathing and pity.

(Eye color) eyes frowned at the photo of a blonde male smiling as he held her younger self. A (skin color) hand reaching out and placing the picture face down. Her hands quickly facing all the photos of them face down so she didn’t have to see his face while she packed. She didn’t want to be reminded of the love they once shared.

Such a shame the fame had gotten to him. Reign was her first love, her first for so many things. But it was time to put him away, just like he did to her.

(Your name) smiled sadly before packing up what few belongings she had, making sure to leave whatever Reign had gotten her behind. She didn’t want any reminders of him and his broken promises any longer.

“Good bye, Reign.” (Your name) whispered as she left the empty house. “I wish you happiness.”

Bars were never really her scene and yet here she was lightly sipping on some Scotch. The bitter alcohol stinging her throat while her eyes scanned the crowd.

The scent of sweat and liquor causing her nose to crinkle in disgust. Just what I’m earth was she thinking coming to a place like this?

This was the nearest bar to the cheap hotel she was staying at for the time being before she found a job to make enough money to move to another city.

A sigh escaping her throat. Her mind was still in shambles and a complete mess. Even this small glass of liquor couldn’t satisfy the lonely ache in her chest.

The young woman raised her hand up to attract the bar tender. “I’d like to close my tab please.”

The walk to the hotel wasn’t too bad. Just pass by a few alleyways and she’d be right there in her tiny room. Hopefully there weren’t any roaches in her bed…

A sudden groan reached her ears, causing the young woman to freeze in place. (Your name) turning her head left towards the alleyway in fright. The young woman trembling as her mind began to race.

She was going to be stabbed wasn’t she? Young women always got abducted or stabbed… or raped at night. And what could she do to defend herself?! She didn’t even have a taser-

“Please…” a deep voice barely whispered while another groan left the alleyway. “Please help me…”

The young woman began to pace as she tried to sort her thoughts. Her mind was telling her no but her heart clenched at the thought of someone truly needing help.

“Screw it.” (Your name) slowly made her was into the alleyway, her (eye color) eyes nervously scanning the alleyways.

“Hello?” (Eye color) orbs widened as she stared at the male before her in shock. Deep gashed covering his body while ragged breaths left the male’s throat. The young woman quickly rushing over as she began trying to talk to the young man. “Oh lord, you need a hospital-“

The male reached a hand out, blood now staining the white sleeves of her coat. Red eyes meeting (eye color) orbs for the first time.

“N-no hospital…” the male rasped while his eyes gazed at here in desperation. “P-please… put me out of my misery-“

“I-I can heal you!” The young woman quickly leaned forward while a green glow surrounded her hands while she tried to heal as many of his wounds as she could. “Please don’t die-“

“It’s okay… I don’t have anything to live for.” There was so much blood. Whatever or whoever had wounded him, had truly wanted him dead.

Tears began to gather in her eyes while she tried to desperately heal the large gashes on the man before her. Just why did her powers have to be so weak?

“Please, whatever may be out there… I just want to save this one person. Please…” tears fell down her face as the male began to slump over ever so slightly. “I just want to save someone so I can have purpose again.”

The male’s eyes widened as the green glow began to become brighter while his wounds quickly began closing. A warmth filling his body and soul while she worked her magic. The young woman beginning to slump as a wave of exhaustion hit her.

“Hey-“ the male quickly caught her before she fell on the pavement. His heart drumming in his chest as he realized she had passed out.

Healing abilities were so incredibly rare this day and age. They were usually killed off so they wouldn’t interfere with the hospitals since they could heal for free… so just how on earth did she come to find him? Wait a moment…

The dark haired male smiled softly as he studied her pretty face, his face lighting up in recognition. It was (your name)… She was still so pretty and small… would she be willing to be his new purpose now that she was all alone?

Did she still remember him from high school? She had always been such a sweet girl, such a shame she chose Reign Huston over him. He could’ve give her the world… but now he could! He truly could give her the world… or at least what would be left of it when he was done with it.

It must be fate that had brought them together! The string of fate must be tied tightly to their fingers, uniting them in a time of hardship once again.

The male slowly rose up. The dark haired man carry her out of the alleyway with a smile on his face.

“You’ll be my reason to live again and I’ll be yours.” The male waved his right hand, a Violet portal appearing before the two. “My true reason on why I want to burn this world to the ground. Nothing will ever hurt you or I ever again.”

The poor girl has no idea that the man she just saved was a monster… a monster she had once unknowingly escaped from in the past…

Reign finally arrived home after not receiving any texts or calls from (your name). Which was strange for her since she always clung to him whenever he left for long periods of time.

Maybe she realized what he had to do in order to crawl up the ranks of superheroes. Reign couldn’t afford for the public to know of their relationship. It was dangerous to be with someone who couldn’t protect themselves.

It would be nerve racking to be seen with a girl who had no name or strong ability to protect herself since he was such a well known hero now. Reign was just lucky Terra was in the same boat as him. With the pink haired woman by his side on the media, he’d be able to have the perfect looking life. A life where (your name) would never be endangered or discovered.

Reign had felt terrible distancing himself from her but he had felt so guilty for pretending to be with someone else. It was what his agency wanted for more media coverage. Yet he knew this was all for the best if he wanted enough money to move the two of them far from anyone and everything.

“I’m home-“ silence greeted Reign when he walked into the empty house. His brow furrowing in confusion at the eerie silence. “Hello?”

The blonde male began to walk around the house, his blue eyes narrowing in concern. Where was she? (Your name) always greeted him when he came home.

“(Your name)?” Reign reached her bedroom door, the male reaching a hand up to knock on the smooth, white wood. “I’m home-“

The door creaked open before he could even knock, the male’s blue eyes widening at the sight of a bare room with all of the pictures placed down. The room looked as if it was ransacked in a hurry.

“(Your name)?!” Reign quickly entered the room as his blue eyes began to scan for any sign of his girlfriend. “(Your name)?!”

Reign then began to run room to room as he called out for her.

“(Your name)?! Please answer me!” Reign began to dash to the living room as tears began to gather in his eyes. She couldn’t have left right? Didn’t she know how dangerous it was out there?

The male took a step near the tv, his foot landing on top of the remote, causing the tv screen to light up. A loop of the broadcast from the other day beginning to talk.

‘Today’s broadcast starts off with the news of the blooming relationship between the superhero Hydro and Heroine Terra. The two started off as partners on missions before taking their relationship to the next level! Who knew such chemistry existed between the two?!’

Reign’s eyes widened in shock as he felt his chest tighten. He had forgotten to hide the remote… she wasn’t supposed to know.

Reign choked back a sob as he realized what he had done. Oh god… she left him.

Reign began to freak out. (Your name) had a healing power and that was considered illegal since the hospitals didn’t want any competition. What if she was killed or kidnapped for her powers?

Reign took a deep breath before trying to calm himself. He was going to have to find her and explain everything.

Maybe he’d have to use some of his old skills back when he first had gotten (your name) into his arms… it shouldn’t be hard to hack into the city’s traffic cameras. One of them had to have had caught something of her. He was sure of it.

“Don’t worry, (your name). I’ll find you.”

Light trickled down from a window. It’s bright rays shining on (your name)’s face, the young woman groaning as she began to stir awake. Her brows furrowing at the unfamiliar room she resided in. Where in earth was she?

(Eye color) orbs examined the modern gothic room. The young woman turning her head around to see that the king sized bed was in the center of the room behind the giant windows of a balcony. Green foliage of exotic plants hanging from the ceilings, the giants leaves covering some of the light from the full moon. Long black and red candles sat on shelves on the black walls, illuminating the room in a comforting manner.

“Are you awake?” A deep voice asked, the young woman turning to gaze at the door frame. A tall male with long black hair stood in the doorframe. His red eyes staring at her in adoration. “You’ve been out like a light for almost two days now.”

The male stalked forward slowly like a predator. His red eyes never leaving (your name)’s. A small smile slowly crawling on his plump lips while his eyes became half lidded. The male bending down to sit beside her in the bed.

“You saved my life.” The male then gently grasped her hand in his much larger one, placing a gentle kiss on the back of it. “My name is Dante Hawkthorne. May I have the pleasure of knowing your name?”

(Your name) blinked a few times in disbelief. The man she had saved was one of the most influential businessmen of the century. Just what on earth was he doing in an alleyway? Could he have been jumped? Or maybe he was doing something sleazy?

(Your name) shook her head to clear her thoughts. It’s not like it was her place to judge him since she was also on the sleazier part of town.

“My name is (your full name).” The young woman gave him a soft smile, causing Dante’s cheeks to blush.

“That’s a beautiful name for a beautiful girl…” the young man then slowly pulled away from her as he stood up to his full height. “Would you care to have dinner with me?”

(Your name) raised a brow at the arm he offered for her to grab. It wouldn’t hurt to indulge in his offer would it?

“That sounds lovely, Dante.” The male’s breath hitched for a moment before he quickly composed himself.

“How does (favorite meal) sound?” The two began making their way towards the dining hall. Each one exchanging small talk.

Turns out Dante was only three years her senior and he owned a lot of morgues and graveyards in the city. She would’ve never thought he’d be the type involved with the dead so it was pretty interesting to see and hear about.

Yet she couldn’t help but have a deep gut feeling that there was something off about him.

Perhaps it was the way his eyes lingered on her a little too much for comfort or the way he couldn’t keep his hands to himself. His large hands constantly rubbing against hers as they made their way towards the dining hall in the long hallways.

“Are you alright, Dante?” The male simply gave her a soft smile as he stared at her lips intently.

“Yes. I cannot thank you enough for what you did for me back there. Perhaps it has made me enamored with you.”

“Pardon?”

“How do I put this?” Dante tapped a pale finger to his light pink lips before giving her a flirtatious smirk. “You enthrall me.”

(Your name) blinked a few times at the oddly flirtatious male before giving him a nervous smile. She had never been the type of girl who had gotten the attention of men like this before. What on earth was she supposed to do?

“Um… I’m flattered?” A deep chuckle broke her from her nervous thoughts.

“You’re quite cute, miss (your name).” The young woman could only chuckle nervously while she turned her head towards the ground. Hopefully he would let her leave soon after this meal. She really needed to get out of this city as soon as possible.

“Um… thank you.” The young woman perked up at the sight of the long table in the center of the grand, gothic dining hall. “Oh wow. Your home is so lovely.”

(Eye color) orbs gazed intently at the various portraits on the walls. A shiver rolling down her spine when her eyes met one of a young woman that looked eerily similar to herself. And did that painting just blink?

(Your name) nearly jumped out of her shoes at the sudden creak the chair made while Dante pulled it out of place. The brunette giving her a soft smile, as if to reassure her that he only had benevolent intentions towards her.

“Thank you, Dante.” (Your name) gently took a seat. Dante quickly sliding her into her spot before taking a seat beside her.

A group of masked butlers quickly scurried into the room with various bottles of expensive looking liquor in their black gloved hands. Which seemed odd to the young woman that she couldn’t see their face or hands.

“Would you care for some wine? I have all kinds of flavors and colors. Whatever you may like.” Dante smiled, gesturing his hand to all of the bottles the butlers held.

“Oh… I would like some (favorite wine).”

“Excellent choice, my dear.” Dante then snapped his fingers, one of the butlers gracefully walking forward. The red number one reflecting off the black wooden mask on his face. His feet moving in an uncomfortably stiff way that was almost unnatural. It was if the butler was a doll.

With perfect poise, the butler’s posture never grew slack as he poured the (wine color) wine into the glass in front of her. The butler than quickly snapped to attention once the wine was poured, giving the two a low bow.

“Thank you, Henry.” The butler then made his way back to the other line of butlers while another stepped forward to pour a deep red wine into Dante’s cup, the dark haired male giving her a smile. The red number seven was on this butlers head, but that wasn’t what made the hair stand up on the back of (your name)’s neck. It was the fact that she couldn’t see the butler’s eyes, almost as if he didn’t have any.

“(Your name). Are you ready for the meal?” Dante asked the young woman, snapping her from her musings. The young woman giving Dante a nervous smile.

“That sounds lovely.” Dante snapped his fingers. The butlers stepping back to make room for the black masked cooks to make their way towards the couple. The numbers one, two, and three on their masks this time. Yet unlike the butlers, the numbers on their foreheads were a dull yellow rather than a deep red.

The tallest one, three, pushed a golden cart that had two golden covers atop of the golden plates. The shortest one, number one, then perfectly placed the meals in front of the two. Just as stiffly as the butler who had poured their wine into their drinks.

“Thank you.” (Your name) told the butler, who didn’t respond, causing Dante to narrow his eyes.

“She told you thank you, Ayden.” Dante hissed, the cook hurriedly giving the young woman a bow. A smile now in place on Dante’s lips. “Thank you, Ayden.”

The cook with the number two then stepped forward to hand (your name) and Dante a glass of water. The three cooks giving them a curt bow before pushing their golden cart away and back to the kitchen.

(Your name) pulled the lid off, her eye brows furrowing at what lord under the cover… this was (favorite food)… how did Dante know her favorite meal?

“What’s the matter, (your name)? Is the food not to your liking?” Dante asked with furrows brows, the male clenching his fists tightly. “I can ask the cooks to remake it. Is it not (hot/ cold) enough?”

“Oh it’s not that, Dante.” (Your name) gave the dark haired male a reassuring smile, causing him to unclench his fist. “This is my favorite food… it was just interesting on how this is what they served me is all.”

“Oh!” Dante removed the lid on his food to reveal the same meal. “It’s my favorite food as well!”

(Your name) sighed in relief as she took a bite from the meal. This was probably the best she’s ever had of it. “This is delicious, Dante.”

“I only have the best in my home.” Dante smiled, the male then grabbing his glass as he raised it. “A toast to you, my savior.”

(Your name) nervously raised the glass before clinking it with Dante’s. The two taking a swig. The taste was a little off, which may be due to how expensive it looked. But other than that, the wine was excellent.

“Is the wine also to you liking?”

“It’s very good.” Dante smiled as he intently watched (your name) eat her food.

A sudden wave of tiredness swept over the young woman, which was odd.

“Are you alright, (your name)?” Dante asked, his brows furrowing in worry as he rose from his seat.

“Oh I am just a little tired is all.” (Your name) gave Dante a reassuring smile. “It feels terribly rude to be so tired when I’m sharing a meal with you.”

“Nonsense. You can spend the night here.” Dante smiled, causing (your name) to grow goosebumps at the strange look in his eyes. (Your name) raised her hands up while she tried to think of an excuse to leave. Something felt off.

“Oh but I don’t want to be a burden-“ Dante’s hands clasped her.

“Oh what nonsense. You saved my life!” Dante flashed (your name) a charming smile, the young man then rose up from his seat. Dante held out a large, pale hand to her. “I can escort you to your room if you are not comfortable walking alone. Tomorrow I can also arrange a maid or two to prepare a bath for you until you feel better.”

(Your name) hesitantly took Dante’s hand, the young man helping her up from her chair. His red eyes never leaving her form.

Dante snapped his fingers, nodding his head at cook one and two to gather up the plates.

“Perhaps tomorrow, in the morning we could have a nice breakfast in the garden?” Dante smiled, which caused (your name) to nervously giggle. “It’d be like a date-“

“Oh I just got out of a relationship so I’m not sure if I feel comfortable going so fast yet-“ (your name) shivered at the twisted smile that flashed on Dante’s lips for the briefest of moments.

“I’m a patient man, (your name). I can wait.” Dante led her towards her room, his eyes carefully observing her to make sure she didn’t pass out too early. Soon she would be completely in his grasp and assimilated in her new role.

Pale fingers traced circles on (your name)’s smooth skin, the fingers slowly working their way up to her (hair type) locks.

“You’re still so beautiful even after all these years.” Dante smiled dreamily before grasping small section of her hair and brining it to his lips. Dante pressed his soft lips to the hair before taking in a deep inhale of her scent. The male moaning in ecstasy.

How many years has it been since he’s last touched her? Seven? Eight?

The male shivered to himself when (your name) released a soft breath while she slept. Her lips looked so soft… it would be okay if he snuck just a small kiss on her, right?

Dante gulped while his palms began to sweat profusely in anticipation. His teenage self had always dreamed of touching her. Of being with her… of being inside of her.

Dante wanted to be inside her body, mind, and soul. He wanted to be the thought, no, the being that never left her mind. The one she would call out for at night as he pleasured her night after night, day after day. He wanted her to be all of his just like he was always all of hers.

Dante slowly swung his body on top of hers. His form straddling hers while his body looked over hers. His red eyes almost glowing in the dark like a predator of the night.

Dante interlaced his fingers with her hands as he held her hands above her head. His long black locks hanging over his face, the locks tickling her skin.

“I have always loved you… it’s meant to be, (your name)…” Dante then leaned forward, his warm breath fanning her face. His eyes becoming heavy lidded with lust. “You were always so sweet to me… it was so hard to live without you for all these years…”

“But it’s worth all the pain and suffering I had to go through now that we’ve crossed paths again…” Dante released a soft chuckle before leaning his face just an inch from hers. “I wonder if you’ll ever know who I am unless I show you a picture from the past… I wouldn’t mind either way because the face you have now is custom made just for you.”

Dante’s lips then gently pressed against hers. His breathing becoming erratic when he immediately pulled away. His eyes now completely consumed with lust, his hips slowly grinding into hers. A low moan escaping his lips, the male biting them to prevent anymore sounds from leaving him.

“The doctor said the drugs were pretty strong so I could kiss and touch you more… I could kiss and touch you all over.” Dante then pressed his lips to her lips again and again. The young man moving his lips all over her face and shoulder in a sort of worshipping manner. “You’re mine now. Mine. Mine. Mine.”

“So won’t you love me more than him now?”

Dante glanced at the clock before sighing at the time. It was almost midnight now. He should probably let her get some rest.

Red eyes took a longing look at her pretty hairs, his eyes flashing with desire yet again.

“I’ll just take a small amount of hair… you won’t even notice.” Dante pulled a knife from his pocket with a smile on his face. “I’ll add it to my collection.”

“Welcome home, (your name).”

“Shit!” Reign hissed as he slammed his fist into the wall of the seedy motel. (Your name) hasn’t returned to her motel room in a few days now. Could something have happened to her?

Reign placed his head in his hands as he sighed in aggravation. It was highly unlikely anyone would have her. If anyone… no, no. It couldn’t possibly be that weirdo from high school… what was his name again?

Dante Noxwell. He was always hovering around wherever (your name) was when they were in school, picking up items she dropped like some sort of pigeon hungry for scraps. He was never a very good looking fellow either with his hunched over back and scarred face.

Yet that never stopped (your name) from being kind to the freak. She always sent a smile his way or laughed at his stupid jokes… Reign knew Dante coveted her. Reign always watched Dante’s red eyes stare at (your name) longingly, almost as if he thought he was worthy of her.

It disgusted Reign to no end. Dante’s eyes, Dante’s smiles, and most of all, his audacity to even breathe the same air as (your name), pissed him off to no end.

No one deserved to be around her, no one but him. Nobody could protect (your name) as well as Reign did. It was Reign’s own fault for being careless and leaving the tv remote in a place she could find it. She just didn’t understand the lengths he had to go through to protect her.

Once he found her though, he would be sure to lock her up even better this time. He had gotten too comfortable with time but he’d have to improve where he failed.

Reign swore to himself he’d never fail (your name) ever again. She would never, ever escape from him again. Never.

Reign stormed out of the room, his head deep in his thoughts. Perhaps he could try Dante’s address… it wouldn’t hurt to try would it?

Reign placed his hand in his pockets. Completely unaware of the security camera focused on him…

(Your name) groaned, the dancing dreams flickering away when her eyes fluttered opened to see the bright sun light that lit up the room. Had she truly passed out?

(Your name) glanced around the room in confusion. How I’m earth did she get back to her room and what was going on?

“Hello-“

The bedroom door creaked open revealing a tall feminine figure. The maid wore a white mask with the number seven on it in pink, entered the room with perfect posture. The door loudly shutting behind her.

The maid gave (your name) a curtsy before grabbing an outfit from the closet beside the bed. Her white gloves were completely spotless and she had such a strange scent to her…

“Oh, you don’t have to-“ (your name)’s eyes widened at all the clothes that were in her size. How on earth did they have her size? “How do you have my size-“

The maid gently handed (your name) the clothes, the young woman grabbing her hand in haste.

“Wait-“ the maid pulled her arm away, the glove slipping off her hand a bit to reveal greenish tinted skin. Alarm bells ringing in (your name)’s head at the sight. “What-“

The maid quickly pulled up her glove before bowing. The maid quickly exited the room, (your name)’s mouth hanging open in surprise.

What on earth was wrong with the maid’s skin?

“Are you decent yet, (your name)?” Dante’s low voice from the other side of the door requested politely. “I’ll escort you to breakfast on the patio personally.”

“Not yet!” (Your name) bit at her nails. The young woman didn’t really want to stay at Dante’s home any longer. Something felt completely off about the place and she did not want to spend a minute longer in here.

(Your name) nervously fidgeted with her hands. She was going to have to sneak out at night in order to get away from him. And hopefully everyone would be asleep by then.

Dante frowned at (your name). He could tell what the young woman was thinking and he didn’t like it one bit. Looks like he’d have to teach her a lesson earlier than expected.

For now, he’s play along. He would treat her like a princess and make sure not to slip up in front of her.

A soft jingle came from Dante's phone, the male quickly looking at the device in annoyance. Yet his expression quickly changed to joy at what he saw.

“Oh what is it, Dante?” (Your name) asked, a fake smile on her pretty lips.

“Oh nothing too crazy…” Dante gave (your name) a bright jovial smile. “Just found out I finally caught the rat in my trap is all. That vermin has been plaguing me for quite some time.”

(Your name) nodded, completely oblivious to what Dante had truly meant. But that was okay. Dante didn’t think she’d like that he had referred to Reign as a rat.

Yet she didn’t know that Dante had purposely put out the wrong address for people to find him at if they looked hard enough. It was always funny to see his enemies in the graveyard they would soon be buried in.

Dante cleared his throat before gleaming at the woman beside him. She had no idea how elated he truly was with this news. One more body to join his collection.

Dante smiled at all of the security footage on his computer screen. His face twisting into a grin as he spotted Reign entering the hotel where (your name) was last seen.

How silly of Reign to not think that Dante would finally have the upper hand this time.

A deep chuckle left Dante’s throat, his eyes turning to the other monitor to see all the angles of (your name)’s bedroom. A dreamy sigh leaving his throat.

“Soon you’ll be all mine. And this time with no interruptions.” Dante leaned his cheek against the screen that showed (your name) sleeping in her bed. The dark haired man gently kissing the screen before releasing a dreamy sigh. “It’ll all go the way it was supposed to the first time.”

(Your name) wandered around the halls, being sure to duck into the corners to avoid being spotted by the workers of the estate.

She had to get out of here as quickly as she could. It just didn’t feel safe anymore. It has already been almost two weeks since she had been trapped in this estate.

Anything was better than being trapped like a bird in a cage again.

(Eye color) eyes peered around the corners to make sure no one would spot her before she crossed over to the other hall. So far, no luck in finding an exit.

Tap. Tap. Tap. (Your name) paused in her steps, her eyes widening at the sight of a masked worker with a blue number, eighteen, on their forehead that strolled adjacent to the hall she was on. The young woman gulping at the rifle strapped to their back. Why on earth would a worker need a rifle?

(Eye color) orbs quickly scanned for a place to hid. A black door sat to her right.

As quiet as a mouse, the young woman tiptoed to the door. Her body shaking in fear of being discovered by the worker.

(Skin color) hands shook as she turned the handle. The woman rushed into the door, the door softly clicking shut behind her. A sigh of relief leaving her throat.

(Your name) turned around and leaned her back against the door. Her (eye color) orbs widening at shock in what the room held.

The room stretched in a barely illuminated hall. A large portrait covered with a red drape sat on the end of the hall as well as a light switch. Each side of the wall appeared to be lined with a pattern of mirrors and portraits of some sort.

What on earth could that possibly be? What were truly on those walls?

Before (your name) could stop herself, her feet wandered forwards towards the covered up portrait. As if she were a piece of metal drawn to a powerful magnet.

She needed to know what was behind that drape. Perhaps it was the truth of this entire situation. Her limbs continued to move on their own. Her hands reaching out to lightly touch the drape that held the portrait.

With a sharp tug, the drape fell to the ground, all the lights turning on in the room to reveal the entire hall. The grotesque face of a boy from her past staring back at her. The scarred up face of her schoolmate stared back at her with his dull red eyes.

“Oh my god…” (your name) took a step back before falling onto her bottom. It all made sense now on why she felt so uncomfortable.

(Your name) then turned to gaze down the lit up hall. Bile riding in her throat at the various portraits of Dante’s face and body changing over the years. Yet it was one that stuck out to her the most…

It was the small picture of Reign that sat in the corner of each portrait. Was Dante trying to be Reign?

(Your name) quickly rose up to her feet. She had to leave. She had to get out of here. It wasn’t safe here. No… it was never safe here.

(Your name) quickly dashed down the hall, only to see one of the guards standing in front of the doorway. A rotting stench coming from him.

“Please move-“ the guard pushed his mask aside to reveal the green skin of a walking corpse. His eyes, nose, and tongue completely missing.

(Your name) screamed loudly as the guard came charging at her. An inhuman snarl leaving the guard’s throat.

But a swift kick came to the guard’s side. Dante standing over the guard with a disgusted look on his face.

“What a useless puppet you are.” Dante then held out his hand, the corpse instantly turning to dust. “He didn’t scare you too much, did he darling?”

(Your name) froze at the familiar nickname. Her whole body convulsing into shivers.

“I’m glad you know who I am now!” Dante smiled brightly as if he hadn’t just turned a corpse to dust a second ago. “We can finally continue where we left off!”

“What are you talking about?” (Your name) whimpered, Dante chuckling. His red eyes shining brightly.

“Well the answer to the letter I sent you all those years ago, darling!” Dante exclaimed, throwing his arms up in the air. “Unless you didn’t get to read it before that bastard ripped it out of your hands.”

Oh (your name) knew exactly what Dante was talking about. He had written her many, many creepy love letters those years. The dead body of the kitten she used to feed was still fresh into her memory. Dante had claimed he saw Reign had poisoned the kitten due to jealousy and wanted her to give it a proper burial. Yet (your name) didn’t think her ex would do such a horrible thing… right?

But the one he had personally delivered to her was the most simple of all. Dante had asked her to be his girlfriend on his knees in front of the entire school and Reign tore up the confession letter. The blonde then kicking Dante across the head repeatedly.

“I don’t know if I can give you an answer-“

“Darling. Baby! You’ve had seven years to think!” Dante’s expression changed to match his frustration with (your name)’s difficulty. “And I had seven years to adjust my appearance to your tastes. Do you know how busy I was over these years? How many diet plans and how much exercise I pushed myself through just to become the perfect man for you?”

Dante ripped the front of his shirt to show her his chisels physique. “This body was made specifically for you! I know you’ve always liked the pretty type-“

“I-I am flattered, but we just met again-“

“I’m sure you could love me now that I don’t look like what I used to.” Dante interrupted, his large hands holding hers tightly. “I had a hard time finding these parts to use over the years but I only got the best! Just for you! I almost gave up when I couldn’t find you again. My puppets weren’t efficient enough, I guess.“

(Your name) furrowed her brows at his words, a shiver rolling down her line. What did he mean?

“What-“

“Oh you didn’t know did you?” Dante chuckles before holding out his hand, a large number of workers walking up to the door. “My ability is that I can control the dead.”

(Your name) shuddered as she watched the workers removed their masks to reveal the green skinned monsters she had seen a little while ago. So everyone here was undead?

“See? I think I can keep you safe better than Reign can! He locked you away so well for all these years. I couldn’t find you like I used to be able to!” (Your name) felt as if she went numb. Could Reign have been insane as well? Did her ex truly lock her away from the world.

“Don’t worry! I can do everything he can do but better!” Dante exclaimed with a bright smile. “I just love you so much!”

“Dante-“ Dante’s hands quickly grasped hers. His red eyes staring intently into hers.

“You saved me just like you always used to. Its destiny. Can’t you see?” Dante then pressed his lips to her forehead, his body shivering at the contact. “I can love you so much more than Reign can and I make so much more money than him. I could provide for you-“

“Dante, it’s okay-“

Dante suddenly pressed his lips against (your name)’s, his soft lips turning into a smile at the contact. The male slowly pulling away.

“I could give you so much more than he can.” Dante then wrapped his arms around her waist to pull her onto his lap. His manhood slowly grinding into hers. “I could… I could please you… whatever you want. I’ll do-“

“But I want to leave-“ Dante pulled (your name) in for another kiss. His tongue forcefully entering her mouth hole his hands began to grab every bit of flesh he could on her body. A strong of saliva connecting the two when he pulled away again.

“You can’t. You can’t ever leave me again.” Dante buried his head into the crook of her neck. “I’ll go insane. I won’t be able to live again without you. Please just stay, just stay with me. I’ll make you happy.”

“Dante I’d be happier outside-“ a sharp prick interrupted (your name)’s words. Her eyes widening at Dante’s twisted smile.

“No. You can’t leave again…no. I won’t let you.” (Your name) could feel her body going limp, Dante quickly pulling her into his arms.

“I promise to love you more than he ever could. I promise you. I’ll keep you safe.”

(Your name) felt her vision going dark, her eyes fluttering in and out of consciousness. Fear consuming her entire being at the last words she heard from Dante before going into a dreamless sleep.

“He’ll be taken care of shortly. No more interruptions this time.”

What on earth could he possibly mean by that?

Reign stood in front of a grave yard in confusion. This couldn’t possibly be Dante’s address could it?

Reign strolled forward. His brows furrowing in thought, unaware of the many eyes that followed his every movement.

Reign sighed before walking up to the mausoleum in annoyance. Something felt off to him. Almost as if he was missing something.

Reign froze when he heard a crunch behind him. The blonde quickly spun around to come face to face with a dark haired man.

“Who are you?” Reign asked, his brows furrowed in confusion and fear. Why was a man in the middle of a graveyard?

“You know who I am very well, Reign.” The male chuckled before slowly walking towards Reign. A twisted smile on his lips. “You used to make my life a living hell everyday after all.”

“No… you can’t possibly be…” Reign couldn’t believe what he was hearing. There was no way the man in front of him was Dante. He was far too beautiful to be the hunched back boy he used to bully. “Dante?”

“In the flesh, or at least what is left. I sort of killed that old Dante off years ago.” Dante chuckled, his red eyes meeting Reign’s shocked blue ones. “That boy was far too weak and too helpless to stop you back then. But now… ever since I got my powers. I can easily stop you.”

Reign held out a hand to blast water at Dante, only for arms to shoot out from the ground and grab his arms and feet. Reign screamed at the sight of all the undead monsters below him. The blonde thrashing to escape but to no avail.

“Why don’t we chat for a bit, Reign? We have lots of catching up to do after all.” Dante smiled before a chair made of bones rose up from the ground for him to sit on. “You are supposedly supposed to defeat me after all. Nox is a good villain name, don’t you think?”

“You’re sick. How could you kill so many people-“ a twisted laugh interrupted Reign. Reign’s eyes widening in fear at the feral look on Dante’s face.

“I’m sick? Then what are you? A saint?” Dante stood from his chair, the tall male grabbing Reign’s jaw to stare him directly in the eye. “You killed too for her you know. And hurt. And bullied. I was merely searching for her is all. I even tried to find her in other people but to no avail…”

Dante let go of Reign’s chin to reach into his coat pocket. His pale hand holding out a strand of (hair color) hair in front of the blonde. Reign’s breath hitching in fear and anger.

“What did you do to her… what did you do to her?!”

Dante laughed as he began to taunt the blonde with the locks of hair. “Oh nothing yet. I’m merely trying to have her warm her heart up to me. The Stockholm syndrome merely hasn’t set in yet. But she’ll be set for life if she gives into it.”

Dante placed a hand to his cheek as he let out a lovesick sigh. “She’ll be such a beautiful bride. I did so much work trying to make everything perfect for her… the perfect looking husband, the perfect home, and… a lot of money. I could provide for her and maybe even a small family if she’d allow me the pleasure!” Dante gave Reign a mischievous smirk. “Something you could’ve easily have had if you hadn’t slipped up. Thank you for that by the way. Her and I have been reunited at last… I promise to take good care of her-“

A glob of spit hit Dante’s cheek, causing Dante to sigh in annoyance. Dante wiped the spit off his cheek in distaste before glaring at Reign.

“Tch. Seven years and you still haven’t learned proper manners. A shame.”

“Go to hell.” Reign snarled, his blue eyes glowering at Dante in hatred.

“I’ll see you there in a few years then.”

“I’m going to save her from you!” Reign snarled, the blonde thrashing in the undead’s cold grasp. “I will get her back-“

Dante gave Reign a sadistic smile, causing the blonde to freeze up.

“Sorry. I don’t plan on giving you the same luxury you gave me all this years ago when you beat me to a pulp in front of the entire school.” Dante began to shush the blonde’s tears in a teasing manner. “Shhhh. You’ll be among the dead soon. And I will be the only victor from this.”

“But… heroes always-“

“Oh but who ever said you were a hero?” Dante teased. “Heroes would never do the things you do. You could’ve moved on like a normal person but just like a rat, you’re always digging into places you shouldn’t be. A pity.”

Dante snapped his fingers, a large army of the undead crawling out from their graves like grotesque puppets.

“Kill him.” Dante then walked away, the sound of Reign’s screams filling the graveyard. A sound that came to a sudden halt, almost as if it had never even happened.

“What a shame. I was really hoping for something more… climatic to our reunion.” Dante muttered to himself before turning back. “But I do truly think she’d come to love me more.”

Dante snapped his finger, a reanimated Reign crawling towards him. A sinister smile crawling on his lips. “Don’t you think I’m more suited for (your name), Reign?”

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navybrat817 · 1 year

Text

No Other Love

Pairing: Roommate!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Summary: Bucky wants to surprise you with a romantic evening.

Word Count: Over 2.1k

Warnings: Fluff, established relationship, slight feels (it’s me, okay), Bucky Barnes being romantic (he’s a warning, okay?).

A/N: I received some sad news and almost didn't post, but I wanted to share something that brought happy tears to my eyes with Stud. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Moodboard by yours truly and divider by the amazing @firefly-graphics . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky sent you to your room and wouldn’t tell you why. He had a surprise planned for you and refused to give you any sort of a hint. He only said he debated kicking you out for a few hours, but didn’t want to risk you getting back too early or late. Oh, and he asked you to put on a dress. Your boyfriend had a romantic plan in mind and you wouldn't deny his request.

You did, however, demand snacks while you waited.

“You want me to feed you just because I’m asking you not to go into the kitchen or dining area for a bit?” he smiled when you pointed to the pantry.

“If I can’t leave my room, I will need sustenance,” you replied.

Just like you didn’t argue about his surprise plans, he didn’t argue when he handed over the food.

“What is he doing out there?” you mumbled to yourself, crossing your arms. You debated pressing your ear against the door to listen, but your stealthy boyfriend managed to keep quiet. “Can I come out now?!” you called out.

“No! Don’t distract me!” he yelled back.

You huffed and flopped back against the pillow. It wasn’t that you didn’t like surprises. You just preferred knowing things. Blame it on your curious nature. It was one of the reasons you enjoyed studying. Expanding your mind and absorbing knowledge centered you. With surprises, however, the only option you had was to wait.

But it’s worth it because it’s Stud.

“‘Don’t distract me.’ Like you haven’t distracted me when I have things to do,” you muttered to yourself as you grabbed a book from your nightstand. “Menace of a boyfriend.”

“You talking about me?” he shouted as you mindlessly flipped through the pages.

How the hell…?

“No! Just reading! Get back to work or whatever it is that you’re doing!”

“You trust me, right?” He asked.

Even though he couldn't see your face, you smiled. “Completely,” you answered.

If there was anyone in the world you trusted with your entire being, it was Bucky.

“Then trust that this will be worth it.”

“You got it, Stud!” you said, assuming he went back to work since he chuckled and didn't say anything else.

You passed the time with your book before you got up to look in the mirror. Since Bucky didn’t say what kind of dress to wear, you picked something simple and blue. You loved the color before, but he made you appreciate it more. You felt peace when you looked into his eyes.

Trust, loyalty, love.

You just finished spritzing a bit of perfume on your neck when Bucky knocked on the door. Instead of opening it as you expected, he slid a piece of paper under it instead. As you moved closer, you realized it was shaped like a puzzle piece. Smiling, you picked it up to read the message he wrote.

In my wildest dreams, I never thought someone as amazing as you would come into my life. I hope I’m your dream come true and better than any book boyfriend you've read about.

Oh, Bucky.

With misty eyes, you read the message again and traced the letters with your finger. Bucky was the best boyfriend in the universe and you didn’t think that just because he was yours. Any girl would be lucky to have a man like him by his side. Someone loving and steadfast and true.

“Count to ten and then come out,” Bucky said through the door as you composed yourself.

After silently counting to ten as he instructed, you opened the door with a gasp. Bucky took your apartment, one you saw daily, and transformed it. Fairy lights, adjustable lamps, and candles replaced the normally brightly lit place. You could see blankets and pillows ready in the living room for cuddling and hopefully more. And the scent of freshly baked pizza filled the air.

Best meal ever.

“Bucky?” you asked when you didn’t see him. Was he hiding? You didn’t even see Alpine or Soot. Maybe he put them in his room. You almost called for Bucky again before you spotted another piece of paper on the floor a few feet in front of your door and went to pick it up.

Before I met you, I never knew what it was like to smile for no reason. And I found the reason for my smile the day I found you. Like when I think of that cute look you get on your face when you put a puzzle together.

You held the sheet close to your chest as you found another in the direction of the kitchen, smiling as you went to retrieve it. This was like a treasure hunt, a puzzle you couldn’t wait to complete. Bucky was the “X” that marked the spot.

If I write your name in the sand, it will wash away. If I write it in the clouds, it will blow away. So I wrote it in my heart where it will always stay in my care. Just like I promised your parents.

I’m going to be a blubbering mess if he keeps this up.

“Wise men say.”

You walked into the kitchen as “I Can’t Help Falling in Love With You” filled the room, where Bucky was waiting for you. The song you danced to before you became a couple, one that would forever hold a special place in your heart. And it was as if all the oxygen was sucked from the room as you took in the sight of your boyfriend. Instead of sweatpants or jeans, he wore slacks and a button up shirt. The blue matched your dress. That’s how in sync the two of you were.

He even styled his hair for me.

"Hey, Smartie," he said, his voice gentle as he smiled and nodded to the ground in front of him where another piece of paper lay waiting. “You look beautiful.”

"Thank you, Stud," you smiled, sniffling as you bent down to pick it up. "These messages are beautiful, but are you trying to make me cry? Because if so, well done and it's a good thing I didn't overdo it on the makeup. I'd be a mess."

He laughed, the sound making butterflies flutter in your stomach. "Only if they're tears of joy or pleasure. And you don't need to wear any makeup because you're beautiful," he replied, heat rushing through your body before you read the message.

Love is two people dancing in the kitchen. May I have this dance?

You lifted your gaze to find Bucky holding out his hand. “I’d love to,” you said, setting the pieces of paper on the counter before you joined him. There was no way you would refuse, easily taking his hand for him to pull you into his arms. It was almost overwhelming the way he looked at you, like you were the only person in the world who mattered. If you ever needed to know what love looked like, you only had to gaze into Bucky's eyes.

Am I worthy of such devotion?

"You really are good on your feet,” you said as he began to lead you in a dance.

"I'm even better off my feet," he winked, making you laugh before he spun you away from him, only to pull you back. "That was cheesier than the pizza waiting for us, wasn't it?"

“So cheesy. You had to ruin the moment,” you teased, giving him a coy smile. “So, what’s the special occasion for all this?”

You had a feeling why and wanted your instinct to be correct, but didn’t want to get your hopes up. Family wise, they were ready for you to take the next step. Your parents adored the hell out of Bucky. Becca welcomed you like a sister. Your friends, of course, were also supportive and ready for you to tie the knot.

“Do I need a reason to spoil my girl with an extra romantic pizza and movie night? I’m even letting you pick the movie, even though you chose last time.”

“How generous of you. And no, you don’t need a reason to spoil me,” you said. Even if he didn’t have something specific planned, he made you feel special just by calling you his girl. You knew, no matter how many years passed, the two of you would continue to find ways to make each other feel loved and cared for.

“Do you remember the day we met?” he asked, smiling as if the memory was playing in his mind. “I warned you that Alpine chased off the last person who came over to look at the place. I was worried for a second she'd try the same thing with you.”

“You did warn me,” you giggled. “And I just crouched down and stuck my hand out toward her.”

“She loved you from the start,” he said, pulling you closer as he brushed his mouth against your ear, the gentle tickle of his scruff making your eyes slip shut. “I think I loved you, too.”

Bucky and his perfect voice and perfect words and I'm about to cry all over again.

“You think you loved me from the moment you met me?” You asked, sniffling as he pulled back and nodded. “Because I think I loved you, too. Which sounds crazy, but we're both a little crazy in the best ways.”

We're a couple of dorks who found a way to fit together.

“We are a little crazy. And who would Stud be without his Smartie?" He asked, handing you a sheet that he seemed to pull out of thin air. “One more piece.”

My love for you is like a circle: It has no beginning and no end. And it would be an honor for you to wear my family ring.

Bucky dropped down to one knee and grasped your left hand as he took a box from his pocket. You couldn’t slow the beating of your heart as he looked up at you with loving eyes. “When I tried to think of the perfect proposal, I wanted it to be the kind you deserved. And I couldn’t get our apartment out of my head. This is where we met. The place where you became my roommate. And we made it a home together. You even fell in love with me. I don’t know how I got so lucky, but I’m thankful every single day that you allowed me to love you, too.”

Your breath hitched when he opened the box. Even expecting it, your soul was ready to leave your body. “Bucky,” you whispered, a sob bursting from your throat when he tenderly smiled.

“My mom told me to give this to the person who stole my heart. You gave me the world when you gave me yours. And I promised your dad I'd always take care of you and love you the way you deserve. We’re made for each other and I don’t want to live a single day without you by my side.”

You could only cry when he removed the ring from the box. For him to think you were worthy of wearing something so significant and special to his family was a precious gift. One you would never let him question or regret. “I don’t want to either.”

“You're my missing piece. My forever. My Smartie,” he said, clearing his throat when his voice cracked. “Will you marry me?”

“Yes,” you cried, your hand shaking a little as he slipped the ring on your finger. It fit perfectly, like it was made for you. Like you and Bucky were made for each other.

My missing piece. My forever. My Stud.

Bucky stood and leaned in, his breath ghosting over your lips. You eliminated any distance between you by pressing your mouth to his. You clung to him, your mouth soft against his as he brought a thumb up to wipe away your tears. You drew back, your heart fluttering in your chest as he brought his lips to your damp cheek.

“I love you so much,” he breathed against your skin.

“I love you, too, Bucky,” you whispered, bringing your mouth back to his. “I love you, too.”

You never could’ve imagined someone like Bucky in your wildest dreams. He was the reason you smiled, sometimes for no reason at all. You’d write his name on your heart and forever keep it there. You would dance with him in the kitchen or wherever he asked you to. Your love for him, like his love for you, was an unbreakable circle.

And you couldn’t wait to be his wife.

Yay! He proposed! Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

#navybrat writes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x female!reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes #roommate!bucky barnes #roommate!bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes au #roommate au #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x female reader #sebastian stan x you

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daizymax · 8 months

Text

the ways we love | lfl (m)

summary: periods of work mean periods without play between you and your longtime boyfriend. after he offers to be the muse for your latest artistic piece, you realize just how much you appreciate his never-ending support.

pairing: felix x fem reader

genre: smut

word count: 7.9k

rating: mature (18+)

warnings & features: established relationship; profanity; mentions of alcohol consumption and (past) drunken sex; public marriage proposal; brief mention of having children; graphic sexual content; dom!felix; dirty talk; use of pet names; fingering; some spit play; oral sex (m receiving); some spanking; penetrative sex; multiple orgasms; creampie; aftercare

author’s note: rewritten for stray kids and reuploaded from my old blog. i think this will be the last of the fics from my old blog that i'll be reuploading here for the foreseeable future. also, i forgot how much fun i had writing the smut in this one. hope you enjoy!

{ click here if you prefer to read on AO3 }

---

He had started off so well. He was relaxed, comfortable, cheerful. Happy to help. This was his idea, after all.

But now… now he’s fidgety. Anxious and bored. You sympathize with that, but if he doesn’t — “Doll, can you please stop moving?” — then you’re ready to give up this entire project already.

“I’m sorry,” he sighs in that sweet, deep voice of his. “You’re just being so quiet. I thought you’d at least talk to me and let me know how it’s coming.”

You spare him a quick, direct glance before refocusing on the canvas. “I’m not going to give you a play-by-play of every mark I make, Lix. I need to concentrate. I want this to be as perfect as you are.”

Felix huffs and averts his eyes, but you know you have appeased him from the way he falls silent and relaxes his shoulders again. The new pink hue spreading across his freckled nose, ears and cheeks would be a nice touch if only you were ready to add color to the piece. For now, you store the inspirational image away for later.

You manage to finish your outline and flesh out some details around his nose before his real-live self ruins his posture — and subsequently, the lighting on his face — by shifting in his seat yet again. With a sigh, you set your utensils aside, wipe your palms on your pants and say, “How about a break? Let me get you a drink.”

Whatever his answer was going to be — agreement, argument, or otherwise — does not have time to be voiced before you are breezing by him and into the kitchen. When you return, he accepts the glass of water and obeys your command to drink up. You watch as he tips an ice cube into his mouth and licks his heart-shaped lips afterward.

He mistakes your admiration for scrutiny. “What’s wrong?”

You smooth some stray hairs near his ear and poke the bulge of ice in his cheek. “Nothing at all. I just like looking at you.”

He crunches the ice and blushes deeper. “Thanks. Don’t you need to do that from the other side of the room, though? Any idea when you might be finished?”

You shrug and fuss with the collar of his shirt until it un-creases. “You know I can’t answer that. A few hours? Days? Weeks? Whenever I’m satisfied with it. Or whenever you say, ‘Fuck you, I’m done with this.’ I told you I can always just use a photo to finish this so you don’t have to model for me.”

Felix smiles softly. “No, I don’t want you to do that. I volunteered, didn’t I? I like modeling for you. It feels fancy to do it this way, like it might turn out better if we do it like this.”

“Maybe, maybe not. Maybe it’ll be so awful you’ll leave me over how monstrous I make you look.”

“Well, at least that would make an interesting story to tell my next girlfriend.”

You giggle. “That’s true. Why don’t I just do a caricature? That way, if it looks bad, I can pretend it was on purpose.”

“No. God no,” he says firmly. “You’re too good an artist to be making pieces look silly on purpose.”

You peck his forehead. “Well, if you want this to be ‘professional,’ you have to sit still for me, doll.”

“I will. I’ll behave.” He tilts his chin to seek out your lips, and you willingly give them up. You smile into the kiss when you see him fumble to set his glass aside on the coffee table beside him without breaking contact with you. Before he can free up his hands to do goodness-knows-what with them, you slink away, back to your easel.

“You just told me you’d behave. If you’re not backing out, then I’m still working, and that means no playing,” you remind him.

He knows, but there is still a hint of disappointment in his dark brown gaze.

These abstinence periods are relatively new to your long-standing relationship. You suppose most people would think a couple purposefully denying themselves sex would tear a wedge of stress and resentment between them, but that has not been the case with you and Felix. It’s a stimulus. A game. A challenging one, to be sure, but always immensely rewarding.

So that is what you have both agreed: there is no sex while you are working on a piece. Not until the job is finished.

“How long do you think this one will take?” Felix asks again.

You plop down in your seat with a light groan and gather your utensils again. “The answer is the same, Lix. I can’t say for sure. A few hours, days, weeks?”

Your pretty muse nods and takes another sip of water as he mentally prepares himself for the oncoming drought. He does his best to relax in his seat again, and you flash him a smile before getting back to work.

---

It takes twelve days to complete the portrait, and Felix is not even sitting across from you when the last stroke falls upon the canvas. He might be offended by this once he finds out, but you couldn’t stop yourself from finishing without him. Besides, you know he will ultimately be as happy as you are that it is finally finished.

Truthfully, you might have been able to do most of the portrait simply from memory; you know his face as well as your own by now.

A sigh flutters past your lips. You take a step back to better admire (and scrutinize) your work. As you scan it over, you can’t help but smile. Not just out of pride for the job you did, but because of the striking resemblance you have been striving to achieve.

It is always difficult to instill life and warmth into mere lines and dots and smudges, but the two-dimensional rendition truly seems as though it could begin breathing at any moment, and a fresh wave of fondness for your best friend and lover as the real-life person he is comes over you. That is how you know you are satisfied, and not just in terms of your finished project.

This is something to celebrate, so after deciding how you want to do so, you pick up your phone to text Felix about an important dilemma.

[You: hey i forgot what you’re wearing today]

There is enough time to change out of your old, splattered overalls and heat up a late lunch before your phone buzzes back.

[Felix: i know it’s been a while since we’ve sexted but i think you meant to phrase that as “what are you wearing” with a smirk emoji]

You almost choke on a bite of your food as you laugh out loud.

You: dfjfdjso i’m not trying to sext you. i just need to know if you’re dressed nicely enough for a restaurant with a decent wine list tonight. we have some celebrating to do

[Felix: how come?]

[You: it’s finished]

This time your phone does not buzz. It rings.

“You finished the portrait?” Felix’s voice is hushed and a little rushed. You can tell he is on the move, probably heading somewhere away from his co-workers and customers for a more private conversation.

“It’s signed and everything,” you say cheerfully.

“That’s fantastic!” he says, not the least bit offended. “This is definitely worth celebrating. We should go to the nicest place in town and dress to the nines.”

More laughter bursts from deep in your chest. “Wha— I mean, it’s still just a portrait, Lix. I didn’t win an award or solve a murder case or anything.”

“So? I” — you hear the sound of a door closing in the background — “sat in that chair for a hundred years and went celibate waiting for that portrait to be done. No offense. This deserves a grand celebration.”

Your eyeroll can probably be heard through the receiver. “It didn’t take that long, did it? It was less than two weeks. Remember that waterfall landscape I did?”

Felix grunts at the memory. “Yeah, how can I forget? Longest month-and-a-half of my entire life.”

“It was worth it in the end, though, wasn’t it?” you say, remembering how neither of you could walk properly for at least a couple days after you finished that particular piece, which is now proudly mounted on a wall in the master bedroom. “Come on, doll. When I pick you up, we’ll go out and have that decent wine with a decent meal so the public knows we’re celebrating something, and then we’ll come home and fuck each other blind, okay?”

There was a time years ago when he might have choked and sputtered over your words, but this lewd proposal is mild, and today he doesn’t flinch.

“If that’s what Madame Artiste wants, then that’s what she’ll get,” Felix says.

He offers you a choice between two restaurants he deems himself dressed appropriately for without having to come home and change, and once you choose, he asks, “Can you just bring my navy suit jacket with you so I can make this outfit work, please? I’ll see you later. I can’t wait.”

He ends the call with the sound of a kiss.

---

The chimes on the door draw the attention of three pairs of eyes, and the sight of you stepping into the salon brings a smile to Felix’s face. Well, the mask on the lower half of his face prevents you from actually seeing his smile, but the happiness is there in his deep brown eyes.

“Hi,” he says, scanning your date-night outfit with obvious appreciation. “Be right with you.”

“Take your time,” you say, smiling at the customer sitting across from him. She smiles back politely and returns her attention to Felix, who goes back to focusing on her fingernails. He meticulously sweeps an emery board across the rounded ruby shapes to finish smoothing them out.

The third person in the salon gets up from his cozy perch in one of the pedicure chairs at the end of the row and crosses the floor.

“You look so nice, Y/N. Is it date night?”

“Yep, we’re off to dinner,” you say, accepting the man’s hug. “What’s new, Ji?”

“Oh, not much.” Jisung shrugs and takes one of your hands. He inspects your fingernails, which have unsightly matte polka dots chipped in the gloss. “Want me to redo these before you go? It won’t take that long.”

You let out a fleeting giggle. “Honestly, I don’t know why I bother getting them done in the first place when I put so much wear and tear on them. This damage only took me a week.”

“Well that’s because—” Jisung shoots your boyfriend a quick look and clearly alters the second part of his statement, “—you did them at home. You need to have them professionally done.”

His way of criticizing Felix’s work while leaving the customer in the room none the wiser is clever, and you have half a mind to applaud him for poking fun at his friend without hurting their business.

The comment is not lost on Felix. He glares over at you and Jisung, but he cannot seem to think of a subtle rebuttal, so he stews in silence.

“Ah, maybe that’s my problem,” you say, grinning.

“Give me, like, fifteen minutes and you’ll be all set,” Jisung promises.

As he’s making his offer, Felix finishes with the woman. From the edge of your vision, you see him remove his mask and lead her to the register to finish the transaction.

“Are you working Saturday morning?” you ask Jisung. “I’ll stop in then and you can do my toes, too.”

Before he can either confirm or deny the appointment, Felix interrupts by coming up behind you and waving his tip in front of your face. “Here, look what my ‘unprofessional’ work got us,” he says. “Buy yourself something nice, baby.”

You chuckle at his little joke until you flick through the bills and realize just how much worth is in them. “Wow, Lix, she was so generous!”

“She was appreciative of the amazing job I did,” he corrects with a peck to your cheek, then he takes his suit jacket from your arms to slip it on. “Sorry, Ji, we have to go. Ready, Y/N?”

“Ready,” you say.

“Sounds good,” Jisung replies at the same time. “I’ll lock up here. Enjoy your date, guys. See you Saturday, Y/N.”

---

The wine is more than decent, the food hits all the right spots, and the company is absolutely perfect.

Felix laughs happily from across the table. Strands of pale blonde hair trickle past his ears the further he tips his head back, and the apples of his cheeks are hued pink from where the rosé has gone. His smile loses none of its dazzle when the waiter interrupts to check on the two of you. The sheer warmth he radiates is boundless in the most endearing way.

When the waiter leaves, you watch Felix lean back in his chair. His eyes land on yours, and while some of the amusement fades from his face, the fondness remains. You see it there, twinkling in the inky pools of his irises; you feel it in the comfort he exudes while he is with you.

For some reason, the contentment of the moment draws something to mind. “Do you remember when we first met?” you ask out of the blue.

The corners of his eyes crinkle. “Of course I do. Remember how you tried to kiss me?”

“Oh my god, yes,” you groan. “Honestly, I still don’t remember a whole lot about that night, but I definitely remember you saying, ‘Oh, no thank you,’ right in my face.”

“Listen,” he laughs in defense, holding up a finger. “I was trying to be polite. I was trying to be a gentleman. You were a hot mess. That party had you twenty so’s-worth of shit-faced.”

“Twenty what?”

“You were so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, soooo…” he starts chanting his stupid joke.

You giggle and hang your head. “Okay, okay, I get it.”

“Hang on.” He holds that finger up higher. “So, so, SOOOO—”

“I said I get it already!”

“—so shit-faced. I didn’t want to embarrass you.”

“You did embarrass me, though! By rejecting me.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry,” he says, dipping his head in apology, “but we both would’ve been way more embarrassed if we’d slept together that night. It would’ve been a disaster.”

You quirk an eyebrow. “What makes you think I would’ve slept with you so soon?”

“Uh. Did you or did you not sleep with my roommate that night instead?”

“Fair enough," you say, toasting your wine glass in his direction. “It’s only funny now because we’re the ones who ended up together.”

Felix smiles. “Thank goodness for that. Life is pretty incredible with you in it, sweetheart.”

His words sober you a bit, and you smile back almost shyly. “I could say the same about you, doll.”

He probably does not always love you as much and as effortlessly as he does right now. He certainly is not always his best, most charming self the way he is right now. Neither are you. But he is still worth loving when he is at his worst, and if you could have moments like these scattered all throughout the rest of your life, you feel it would be enough. His love and support and respect and admiration are more than enough.

So it comes as a soft entreaty rather than a question; out of the blue again, but also a long time coming: “Please marry me.”

This time Felix raises an eyebrow. He seems more intrigued than surprised by your impromptu proposal. Then he half-purses, half-pouts his lips in a cheeky sort of expression, like he thinks you’re bluffing but is willing to play along anyway.

That feeling of overconfidence you had that first drunken night when you leaned in to kiss him in a stranger’s kitchen comes back, as does the fear of the rejection you suffered immediately afterward. If he says ‘Oh, no thank you,’ again, you wonder if you’ll die of embarrassment right here in this restaurant, surrounded by different strangers with different alcohol on your breath.

But you know he won’t, not even as a joke, because he knows you now. He knows you well, and he sees the sincerity in your face.

“I don’t have a ring,” you go on, “but I’ll get down on one knee right here, right now. This dress won’t stop me.”

Wordlessly, Felix lifts his napkin from his lap to lay it across his plate, then leans sideways to pull something from his pocket. He casually holds it up for your inspection, and once you realize what it is, you move to kneel in front of him as promised without even questioning the coincidence. Now is not the time for questions. Now is the time to show how serious you are about this.

Felix stares down at you and pries open the tiny case to reveal the brilliance of the diamond’s sparkle. Your fingers are sure and steady when he slips the top-heavy band onto the appropriate one.

“I would be honored to marry you,” he says softly, poking back and forth at the engagement ring with the edge of his thumbnail.

By now there are dozens of eyes on the quiet scene the two of you are making, but his are the only pair you see. His smile is still there, softer and smaller now, but still brimming with the adoration he has gained over the years. It widens when you rise up just enough to press your lips to it. His hand finds the back of your head the same second yours cups his.

A round of coos and charmed applause from the crowd goes up around you, but it is all background noise to the sound of Felix’s precious, giddy laughter.

---

He is no longer laughing by the time you throw the front door shut and press him up against it. The needy kisses between here and the car have taken most of his oxygen.

“Shit,” he hisses, watching you work his belt buckle. “You get a ring on your finger and you turn feral, is that how it works?”

You growl playfully but say nothing.

“You better slow down, tiger, or we won’t last five minutes.”

“Don’t care.”

“Aren’t you gonna show me what we waited so long for this for first?”

“Later. I thought you were dying of celibacy?” you sass.

Felix clicks his tongue. The simple sound is quiet, but it shifts the air. You stop trying to get into his pants to give his dark eyes your undivided attention.

“We have all the time in the world now, don’t we?” he murmurs, as though the hard-on in his jeans is not growing as impatient as you.

You swallow. “I just want you so badly. It hurts.”

His gaze sharpens at your tone. “Does it?” He reaches up to graze a thumb along your bottom lip. “Where does it hurt, sweetheart? Here?”

The sound you let out is something between a hum and a whine. You feel so sex-starved, so desperate for any morsel of pleasure he can feed you. You try to take his thumb into your mouth, but he slips it away too fast, plucking your lip as he goes. He brushes across your breast next. The sensation is dulled by your clothing, but your nipple stands to attention nonetheless.

“What about here?” he whispers.

“Yes…” The fingers that had been so keen on removing his belt cling idly to the leather.

“Aw.” Felix pouts and bats his eyelashes at you, but his sympathy feels insincere. He’s amused by the state of you. He adores seeing you so riled up and pliant for him.

His thumb trails further, straight down your stomach, while the rest of his fingers are kept stiff and carefully away from your buzzing body.

Eventually, he reaches the crease between your thighs and presses through the layers of your dress and your panties where he estimates your clit to be. He is a little north at first but quickly readjusts his position. The soft moan you let out is a dead giveaway for when he has found it.

“And here?” He takes a step closer while he begins drawing tiny circles. “Tell me, angel, does it hurt here?”

“Yes. Yes...”

He kisses your cheek tenderly. Mercifully. His deep voice is pitched even deeper when he murmurs, “Shh. I know it does. It’s finally time for me to make it better, isn’t it.”

You cant your hips against his hand. “Felix, please...”

“Come here.”

He trades places to cage you up against the front door. You reach for him, but he draws back out of reach to shrug out of his jacket first. After he carefully pushes the sleeves of his sweater up, he uses both hands to hike your dress up along your waist. There is no rush to his movements. In fact, it’s almost graceful the way he does it, as though the actions he is about to perform could be considered decent.

When you try to remove your underwear from his way, he nudges your hands aside. “Ah-ah-ah,” he tuts. “We’re getting ahead of ourselves. Tell me the safe word first, Y/N.”

After all this time, he still has you say it out loud beforehand. Beneath your eager lust, you appreciate the basic act of care and commitment to playing the dominant role.

“Candle,” you answer.

He thanks you as though you’ve done him a favor and places a light kiss on the edge of your jaw. Then he hooks his thumb through the side of your panties to touch the hood of your bare clit directly. A jolt of electricity singes your nerves from his first flick. Your body noticeably quivers, and Felix smirks at his quick, effortless effect on you.

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” he drawls lowly.

You swallow again, drier this time. “Mm-hm.”

“Because we don’t play while you’re working anymore, do we?”

You shake your head. “Hm-mm.”

“And you’ve been working so hard, haven’t you, baby?”

You hum again, louder this time. Or maybe it’s a full-blown moan. Whatever the sound is, it becomes incessant over each passing second and each pass of his thumb. Every noise you make is met with a return sigh or hum from Felix. Every jerk of your hips is matched by a tilt of his head or other shift in his posture.

Getting fingered like this, fully dressed and up against the front door of your home, spikes a carnal, filthy pleasure into your blood. It sears through your muscles, hotter and hotter until it beads between your skin and your clothes. You want to take them off, but you dare not stop Felix for a second. You keen with lust and desperation.

“I know. I know,” he purrs, soft and sweet as a kitten. “Feels good, doesn’t it? Feels so good...” He nuzzles the space between your jaw and your neck and inhales deeply.

You tilt your face away to give him better access, but he peels back and takes your chin in his other hand to steer you back toward him. A puff of hot breath hits your damp temple; it almost feels cool.

“Eyes on me. Good girl.” His gaze skims down your form. “You’re still shaking. All I’ve done is touch your clit and you’re that close already, huh?”

“Yes, so close,” you admit, completely unashamed. “Just keep going, please just keep going.”

Felix smiles and takes the sweat from your temple with a pair of kisses. “How can I say no when you beg me so nicely like the perfect angel you are? Hold onto me. C’mon.”

You instinctively go to clutch his biceps but think of a better idea and hook your arms around his neck instead. Felix allows you to pull him even closer and finally — finally — slips another finger into your panties. He pushes it into your opening with almost no resistance, and you gasp when his knuckles bottom out inside you. Just as quickly as the finger entered, a second one joins and curls. He keeps them buried for a moment, then drags them back out to smear the juices he collected around your swollen bud. The slipperier his work gets, the more he enjoys it.

“Your pussy is so perfect,” he breathes. “Spread your legs. I want to feel just how wet it gets for me.”

You obediently open your legs wider, and he delves back in immediately, fast enough that his palm audibly claps against your slick lips, hard enough to send your head tipping backward to thump against the door. When his thumb drops back to your clit and nudges under the hood this time, you know it won’t be long until you’re unraveled.

“Ohhh my god,” you groan. More sweat builds on your forehead, on your chest, under your arms, along the backs of your knees. You grow lightheaded from the static in your veins from being fucked open by Felix’s talented, diligent fingers.

“That’s it,” he pants. You’re not sure when he became so breathless. “That’s it, sweetheart. Let go. Come for me. Come for me. Come.”

Another dozen strokes and you do as you’re told with a pinched yelp. Felix kisses your throat as he works you up your high and eases you back down, undulating his wrist and babbling encouragements into your sticky skin.

“That’s it, squeeze my fingers, just like that. Squeeze ‘em tight. Tight. There you go. That’s my good girl. So gorgeous when you come. So fucking perfect. Hey.”

The hand not still knuckle-deep in your pussy cups your cheek and pulls you in. He swallows the whines and the airless, nonsensical words of thanks you huff between kisses.

Once your breathing has had time to settle, he gingerly slips his fingers from your sensitive, throbbing walls. He doesn’t even look at those fingers as he brings them to his tongue. In fact, he closes his eyes altogether as he laps the tips and moans indulgently, as though this is the first time he has ever tasted you.

When he is done cleaning the mess you made on him, he looks you in the eye and says, “Now that we’ve rubbed out that easy one, I’m open to suggestions on what to do next.”

“Let me return the favor?” You inflect it as a question.

Felix smirks. “It wasn’t a favor, sweetheart, it was a pleasure. But since you’re asking so nicely again… c’mere.”

He tugs you by the hands and begins walking backward, slipping out of his shoes as he goes, and you follow his lead. You assume he is bringing you to the bedroom, but he stops when his feet hit the carpet in the living room and glances over his shoulder. It must be the chair he was looking for because he then moves toward it with a sense of purpose, leaving you a few paces behind.

“Strip,” he orders. His voice is even and his expression is calm as he sits and crosses an ankle over his opposite knee.

You move to obey without hesitation, twisting your arm behind your back to yank down the zipper on your dress. Felix keeps his eyes fixed on your face as you peel the gown away from your shoulders. Gravity takes the fabric to your waist, and you shove it down the rest of the way to step out of it completely. Next, you snap one of your bra straps with an eyebrow cocked in question.

Felix nods. “Mhm. Keep going ‘til you’re in nothing but that ring.”

You had nearly forgotten about it. You lift your hand to look at it again, but a sudden noise startles you. It sounds like more of a crack than a snap from the way it ricochets off the walls of your home, though you know a snap is exactly what it was by the pose of Felix’s fingers in the air.

“Don’t get distracted now,” he says, deep voice rumbling. He drops his hand back to his lap. “You’re being so good. Finish taking off your clothes, then come here.”

With his instructions, you unhook your bra and let it drop to the floor. His eyes dip to your naked chest, but his expression is more clinical than enticed.

You shove your thumbs into the band of your panties and stall there until you get the attention you want. It takes Felix a few seconds to realize you’re not moving and look back to your face. When he meets your eyes, he mouths the word ‘off,’ leaving his teeth planted in his bottom lip for an extended moment. Even when he is silent, you feel the authority radiating from him. You shiver when the air hits your slick, heated center.

Felix uncrosses his legs, and you finally glean a proper peek at your effect on him. The erection in his pants looks past the point of painful, but his demeanor is still relaxed as he invites you to stand in front of him by casually tossing a throw pillow at his feet. Once your toes brush against it, he reaches for your hands and sweeps his lips across your knuckles, quick and affectionate. Then his hands are on your waist, and near your ribs, and around the curves of your ass, and across your thighs. He soothes them up and down your skin, imprinting patches of heat everywhere he roams.

“There’s my gorgeous girl.” He leans forward and plants an open-mouthed kiss on your lower stomach, then peers up through his eyelashes at you and directs, “On your knees for me, gorgeous.”

Another look at his covered crotch and you do as you’re bid. When your knees touch down on the pillow, Felix shifts to whip his belt out of its loops at last. By the time it clanks to the floor, you’re already helping him with the button and the zipper. He lets you tug his pants down to and away from his ankles. His socks go next, and he takes care of his sweater and undershirt himself. His underwear is last but gone in a flash and then there he sits, stripped bare with his toned abdominals twitching and his cock standing flushed and rigid just for you. He is so goddamn beautiful.

“Is this what you want?” He leans back and takes his rosy length in a loose fist. “Is this what you’ve been being so good and working so hard for?”

You swallow and pretend it’s his precum sliding down your throat. “Yes.”

“What’s that, baby?” He strokes upward.

“Yes.”

“What do you say?” He strokes downward. Back up again. Your eyes may as well be stringed puppets with the way they follow helplessly.

“I said yes,” you repeat again.

And he patiently repeats: “No, what do you say? Look at me.”

Once you meet his lust-glazed stare, you don’t have to wrack your brain for the answer he’s looking for.

“Please,” you say, “let me suck your cock. I want it so badly. You deserve to feel good after waiting so long.”

Felix tucks his chin down, puckers his lips, and releases a ball of spit onto the head of his cock. Another soon follows, racing alongside the first, joining the trail of wetness that already leaked from the slit.

You shuffle closer between his knees and take him in your hand. He lets go of himself, but not before brushing his fingertips along the back of your hand. The gesture is deliberate, not coincidental, and you smile up at him. He smiles back, more with his eyes than his mouth. His mouth is used to give commands such as, “Put it in your mouth, sweetheart,” before leaning back comfortably. Even with his pulsing erection at your mercy, he is a marvel of beauty and dominance.

You give him a few strokes to spread the wetness around and simply enjoy the slick glide, then bend to take in his wet tip. He tastes delicious. Good enough for you to moan on contact, good enough for you to want to fill your entire mouth with his warm heaviness. He is tangy from his natural body and sweet from the taste of wine lingering in his spit. You sink down further, letting your tongue follow the path of a prominent vein.

“Open wide. That’s it,” he says. His voice is steady but barely there. The relief of finally being touched where he wants it most runs a succinct shiver through his legs, but otherwise he remains controlled, even when you tighten your lips to hollow your cheeks. “There you go. So good for me. So good at sucking my dick.”

His praise leaves you hungry for more, so you slather your tongue down and around his balls to hear the way his sighs and quiet pants start to crack his composure. He shifts his hips to ensure you can reach every sensitive part of him, and his cock feels just a bit stiffer when you try to swallow it down your throat.

“Hah,” he gasps. “Oh, fuck, baby, that’s it.”

On the armrest of the chair, his fist clenches tight enough to pop a knuckle. He soon releases it, however, and moves his hand toward you. You half-expect him to hold you in place because you know how much he enjoys being in your throat, but instead, he eases you off of him and uses his loose grip on the top of your head to roll it back in a slow, gentle circle along your neck and around your shoulders. A strand of spit — there is no way to tell whether it is yours or his — still bridges your lips to his swollen cock. You reach out to break it with your tongue, curling it devilishly. Felix watches with dark, hooded eyes.

“Dirty girl.” He wipes away the dribble on your chin with his thumb. “Where do you want it?”

You don’t quite understand his question. “Hm?”

Once again, he takes your hands in his, this time to help you up off the floor and onto his lap where he can sling your arms around his neck. The only conceivable reason for him to cut a blowjob so short is that he is already too close to coming. You won’t call him out on it, but you’re thrilled to know it’s true.

“I asked you where you want it. Where do you want me to fuck you?” His vulgar inquiry is warm honey on your tongue. “You want me to take you up against the wall? Fuck you so good and so hard that you can’t fucking walk in the morning? Hm?” His hum vibrates your lips with the sweetest melody. “Do you want me to take you in our bed, under the sheets, nice and slow, until you can’t remember your own name?” His lips are a soft, decadent treat you sink your teeth into. “Or do you want me to take you in this chair, right here where I sat while you were across the room working for hours and hours instead of bouncing on my dick?” His perfume is a laced drug that could leave you high in bliss for hours.

“Yes,” you breathe into his mouth. You pull at his lips, molding and folding them with yours while you feel up every inch of his skin you can reach — his jaw, his back, his arms, his chest, his stomach.

Felix relinquishes a shred of his control with a groan as he ravishes your lips right back. His own hands crawl along your shoulder blades, your spine, your ass. Eventually, he clears his head well enough to say, “That’s not an answer, sweetheart. You need to tell me right now where you want to fuck, or I’m choosing for you.”

“Here. Chair. Now,” you rasp brokenly.

He hoists you up right away, perching your ass halfway onto one of his forearms and using his other hand to drag his swollen, spongy cockhead through your folds until he finds your entrance. The tip slips inside with a stretch but little resistance, as does the rest of him until your lap and his are pressed flush against one another’s.

You rock your hips slowly to welcome the intrusion and ensure he is as deep and you are as full as possible, and his breath hitches from the movement. He lowers his eyes in a straight path from your eyes to your nose to your chin. His lips part as though he is going to say something, but after a couple seconds, he leans forward to give you another searing kiss instead, bracing a hand against your spine to keep you from tipping backward from the sudden motion.

Whatever he was going to say about how good it feels to be sunk in your wet heat again is conveyed through his tongue on yours and the way he clutches your bare skin.

Just when you think perhaps all his words have dried up, Felix sucks his mouth off yours, lays a slap across your ass, and grunts in deep bass: “Bounce for me, baby.”

You would love nothing more than to do just that, so you build up a steady pace as quick as you can. He is just thick enough to rub your walls and make them burn in the best way imaginable. The smacks that come from your pelvis and thighs meeting his over and over are lewd and wet and so fucking good. So fucking good.

You shut your eyes and hang your head back. “Oh my fucking god…”

Felix keeps an arm hooked around your moving waist while he paws at you from the front. He splays his free hand across your throat, applying just enough pressure to get a feel for your erratic pulse, then slips down your collarbone, down your chest to squeeze one of your tits.

“That’s it, baby. This is what we’ve been missing, isn’t it?” He lifts your breast and leans forward to wrap his lips around the perked nipple. The sensation makes you involuntarily clench around him, and he whimpers from the tightness. “Fuck, I’ve missed this so much.”

His admission spurs you to speed up. You try to roll your hips at the bottom of every drop, but your movements are getting sloppier the higher your pleasure climbs. It doesn’t seem to matter to Felix, though. His ragged breathing is a telltale sign of how good it feels to have your soaked pussy dragging up and down his cock. He tries to find your staggered rhythm in order to buck upward in time with your drops and help drive himself into your sweetest spot, but although both of you are hyper-concentrated on reaching your peaks, the coordination is not quite there.

“Sweetheart, you’re falling apart on my dick,” he moans with the little breath he has. “Jesus, you’re squeezing me so goddamn tight. You’ve already come once and now you’re about to soak my whole fucking lap, aren’t you?”

“Lix, I-I’m s-s-so-” you trill mindlessly.

“So close, I know.” He gives the fleshiest part of your ass another solid slap, then digs his fingers in to help you rock back and forth against him. “Do it. Come again on my fucking cock, baby. We’ve earned it.”

You work to get all the friction the ridges of his raw cock can give you, but the edge you’re chasing is still on the horizon, just a bit too far out of reach. “Felix, I can’t…”

“I’ll get you there,” he swears. “Let’s just—”

In no time, you’re on your back on the floor and Felix is plunging his steely length back between your drenched folds. Your legs automatically anchor themselves around his hips to steady yourself against the jarring pace he sets. The aftermath of the rough carpet on your bare skin is a worry for a later. Right now, you whine at him to go faster, go harder, just don’t fucking stop, whatever he does.

Felix leans close and takes one of your knees to push it back toward your chest so he can fuck into you deeper. His breath is hot and shaky and somewhere in the vicinity of your earlobe as he whispers, “Fuck, you’ve gotta come now, angel. Please.”

He readjusts his weight and his grip on you, pushes deep just a few more times, and you’re finally coming again, crying out and clenching around him so tight it nearly hurts from how hard he is inside you. He fucks you through your entire high, never stopping the solid snap-snap-snap of his slim hips.

“God, fuck, I’m right fucking there,” he huffs and pants. Sweat drips from his brow onto your cheek. “Where do you want it? Where should I come?”

“In me, come in me,” you beg, reaching down to squeeze his tight ass and urge him even deeper into your soaked depths.

Felix whines something wordlessly lyrical in a high alto as his release fills you with a sticky warmth. He fucks his cum into you with rough, staggered thrusts, his pace slowing but never completely stopping. Your legs begin to ache as he continues gingerly pumping himself. You assume his spent cock must hurt from the rising sensitivity following his orgasm, but he is not quite finished.

“Holy shit,” he whimpers. “Your pussy’s so fucking tight, I think I could come again.”

Your walls clench around him because you know he is serious. “Do it, baby,” you pant hard. “Use my pussy to come again. I want it all.”

“Yes, yes, yes. Just a little more, I’m gonna— fuck!”

He finds a second shaky high and buries his fingers in your hips deep enough that the bruises may last until your wedding day. The force with which he pulses a final spurt of cum toward your cervix is something you’re certain to remember for a long time as well.

“Holy shit,” Felix sighs again, blissful and fucked out. The two of you moan together when he slips out of you, still half hard. “Come here, angel.”

He slumps to the side and gathers you in his arms to face him. You tuck your forehead between his jaw and his shoulder, and he traces his fingertips along your shoulder blades where the skin is a little irritated from its row with the carpet. You’re not worried about the sting, but your nerves wince under his touch anyway, and he apologizes immediately.

“Shit, I’m sorry, I’m such an idiot. I shouldn’t have—”

“You’re not an idiot,” you giggle tiredly. “We’ve had worse rug burn before. Much worse.”

“I know, which means I know better than to have sex on the carpet.” He kisses your forehead and sweeps a thumb across your cheek. “I shouldn’t have gotten so caught up, I’m sorry. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you insist. “Being fucked into the carpet never felt so good.”

Felix laughs quietly, deeply. “It was definitely worth the wait. I haven’t come twice in a row like that in a while.” His sigh is exhausted but pleased; his hug is weak but loving.

After a moment of recovery, he helps you stand and urges you to use the bathroom and change into something comfortable, and you agree on the condition he does the same.

Before you dress, he peppers sweet kisses along your lightly scraped skin and helps you apply lotion over it. He also insists that you drink at least half a glass of water to rehydrate yourself before you both return to the living room so you can finally show him what the two of you have been celebrating in the first place. He massages the back of your neck soothingly as you walk side by side.

“Alright, now I’m actually really proud of this, but you still need to be honest with me, okay?” you preface. Without waiting for him to respond, you whip the sheet covering the easel away with a flourish.

The moment it is revealed, Felix eyes dart over the portrait in patternless directions. You want to see inside that pretty head of his to know every thought going through his mind while he examines your depiction of him, but you can’t, so you keep your eyes trained on his pensive face and wait quietly for him to share whatever feedback he chooses.

“Y/N,” he eventually begins. You can’t tell if the hush in his tone is because he is awed or appalled.

“Yes?”

Felix turns to look you in the eye. “How do you keep outdoing yourself?”

A note of laughter pops past your lips, and the nervousness in it surprises you. “Well, you know what they say about practice. Does that mean you like it?”

“Are you kid— I love it! I don’t even know where to begin! The detail, Y/N! It’s so—” He faces his two-dimensional self again and waves his hand through the air in front of the canvas in a gesture you have no idea how to interpret. Then he extends a single finger toward the bottom edge of the canvas. “Like right here. The shadowing is so good. And the way you did the lighting here...” He lifts his finger higher to point at his painted cheekbones. “You did my freckles so well, I wouldn’t even be surprised if you captured literally every single one of them. It’s, like, scary good. And I don’t know if this is technically a critique towards the realism, but I don’t think my hair has ever actually looked this good in real life.”

You laugh louder, more happily. “I do think I did a pretty good job, but your real life self is way better than this, doll. Trust me.” You tuck a lock of hair behind his ear, and he brings his face back around to look at you again.

“I don’t even know what else to say without sounding dumb about it,” he tells you. It is not often he sounds bashful around you anymore, but he does now. “I’ll have to keep processing it. But in my unprofessional opinion, to my untrained, non-artistic eye, I’d say this is certifiably amazing work, sweetheart.”

You touch his cheek. “As long as you don’t feel like leaving me over it, you don’t have to say anything else.”

Felix takes your other hand and kisses the center of your palm, then each of your fingertips separately, then the ring between your knuckles.

Tomorrow, you’ll ask him for the story of how he happened to have it in his pocket tonight. Saturday, when Jisung sees it on your finger, you’ll ask his advice on how you should do your nails for the wedding (though you’ll probably end up having them done by your groom anyway). Next week, you’ll ask Felix what time of year he has in mind for the ceremony, or if he even wants to make a big pageantry of it. The week after that, you’ll either start looking into wedding venues or making an appointment with City Hall.

And years from now, when your children ask you about the portrait you painted of their father, you’ll tell them you did it because he was always your biggest supporter, and you’ll be reminded just how in love the two of you were tonight.

---

if you enjoyed, please consider re-blogging and/or leaving me some feedback. take care! ♡

#felix smut #lee felix smut #stray kids smut #skz smut #felix x reader #lee felix x reader #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #the ways we love #daizymax

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zombiedumbie · 1 year

Text

cooking!

summary: the reader is learning how to cook, but no one likes it.

content: fluff (not exactly fluff, but is kinda cute), no pronouns used, reader is a devil fruit user

pairing: law x gn!reader

word count: 1.336

an: haro everynyan. I can finally write something, so i'm writing about my hushband, tell me if you like it, please. by the way, this akuma no mi power I thought for an OC of mine! I want to write something for her (maybe a one-shot or even a few chapters of a fanfic, I don't know), let me know what you think!

Law left his office late at night. It was one of those days when he had spent too much time in his office, and his body was starting to crave even the slightest bit of attention. He walked into the kitchen, hoping there would be some leftovers from tonight's dinner; he could feel the pressure of the sea in his ears, making the place even quieter than it already was.

But that wasn't necessarily a bad thing; he appreciated these moments of silence, when all the crew members should already be asleep or quietly going about their activities. The clock and the silence were his only indications that night had arrived in a place where sunlight barely reached.

The silence was broken as he approached the kitchen; he could hear soft music playing and a sad humming. Light seeped out from under the door, indicating that someone was still outside the room.

With calm steps, he approached. Initially, his intention was to get something to eat, but now he wanted to find out who was singing. As he approached the door, Law could feel a gust of wind coming through the gaps. If he didn't know his crew, he would have been quite surprised when he opened the door and saw the plates floating in the air in an orderly synchronization. But he couldn't help but be enchanted by the way they moved through the kitchen, following a sequence to be cleaned, dried, and then put away.

"Hello, captain," you said, stopping your singing in tune with the music. He entered and closed the door behind him, containing the air flow that kept the plates in order, like a production line. He also noticed the little Den Den Mushi humming a melancholic tune.

"Y/N," he greeted you. You had the power to control the wind, which was quite useful in battles, especially due to your abilities and creativity in manipulating your power. But it was also useful in everyday situations like this, where you could simply wash the dishes while using your abilities to finish all the work.

"What are you doing up at this hour?" he asked with his usual formality. You had recently joined the crew and had never really talked to him before, and you thought you never would. He was always locked in his office, focusing on things other than wasting time talking to a newcomer on his ship.

"Just… washing the dishes," there was a strange tone in your voice, as if there was a lump in your throat preventing you from speaking. Law noticed it.

"Are you sure?" It was impressive how he could notice subtle things. You were sure that beneath his stoic nature, there was a person who was attentive to everything happening around him. You admired that about him. "You don't have to speak if you don't want to." He walked through the kitchen, carefully avoiding the floating dishes. His eyes searched for food, anything that could quiet the rumbling in his stomach.

That's when he found a shy tray with three cupcakes, hidden next to a gigantic pile of plates. They seemed to have been decorated by a child, with crooked icing and colorful star-shaped sprinkles.

Law found it adorable.

"C-Captain!" you said, finally finishing washing the huge pile of plates. "Don't eat those."

"Oh," he shared a glance between you and the tray. "Are they already reserved?"

You sighed with his innocence. "No. But I'm going to throw them away."

"Why?" He picked one up. "They look good." He could see that the icing was poorly mixed, so there were still parts that were white instead of being colored with dye. "Have you tasted them?" Normally, he wouldn't insist or even ask about such things, but he couldn't see a reason to throw away food.

"I made them," your voice had a hint of sadness, as if you had been crying before he arrived. "No one wanted to eat them because of that."

"Why?" he asked again, sounding like a child with so many questions. However, his expression was curious, as if he wanted to know why you sounded so frustrated.

"I-I…" you held both hands in front of you, trying to gather the courage to tell your captain, as if you were ready to reveal a secret. "I'm trying to learn how to cook."

He raised an eyebrow, expecting you to continue your story, although he already had an idea of where it was going.

"When we saw the Straw Hats… I was impressed by Sanji's cooking skills," he raised his eyebrows at the mention of the cook. "It reminded me of an old desire to cook when I was younger. I loved cooking with my mother, but I didn't really do much myself." Law listened attentively to your story as he looked at the cupcake in his hand.

"I asked him to teach me a few things, but he could only teach me how to cook rice properly and make onigiri," Law looked up at you, his expression always calm. You sighed before continuing. "So, I tried to continue without his help, using a recipe book I bought on an island. And apparently, I'm terrible at cooking!" Law hid his look of pity.

"No one wants to try what I make because apparently everything turns out bad!" Law saw some frustrated tears rolling down your face. "This fucking cupcake didn't turn out bad! I tasted it! But no one wanted to even try it."

You watched Law delicately peel off the cupcake wrapper and then take a bite of the cake. A bit of icing stuck to his nose without him noticing. You found it adorable.

The cupcake wasn't anything special; in fact, it looked like just another regular cupcake, but it was tasty enough for him to want another one. He couldn't understand why someone wouldn't want to eat it.

"This is good, Y/N-ya," you sighed in relief, afraid that he would also complain. If he did, you would probably throw yourself into the sea at the first opportunity. "I don't understand why they refused."

You smiled, wondering if he was just being kind or if he genuinely meant it. You didn't know him intimately, but Law didn't seem like the type of person who would lie just to please someone. You thanked him with a heavy heart, deciding not to irritate him with such a question.

"Can I have another one?" he asked after finishing the one he had taken. You nodded, and he headed back to the tray. "You know, I can cook too," he commented, and you looked at him in surprise.

"I usually don't have much time for it," he sighed, taking another bite of the cupcake and once again smearing the tip of his nose. "But I cook sometimes for the crew, and sometimes for myself when everyone is asleep."

It was strange to see him like this, his tall figure slightly hunched over and his disheveled hair without the hat. He was wearing casual clothes and talking about mundane things like cooking, which contrasted with the serious and calculating figure he imposed on himself. "If you want, I can teach you what little I know," you returned his gaze to his eyes, wondering if you had heard correctly. "Apparently, we have some spare time until the next island."

"S-Sorry?" you asked as if your ears had deceived you.

"Um…" for some reason, his cheeks were tinged with a light blush. "I said I can teach you what little I know, you know… about cooking?" He seemed embarrassed now.

"Oh, I would love that!" you accepted, with a gleam of excitement in your eyes. Law looked at you as if he was melting in your eyes.

You approached him, carefully wiping the icing off the tip of his nose. "It was dirty." You saw the man blush so intensely that it looked like he was going to change color at any moment. "Thank you, Captain," you smiled sweetly.

Law's face turned bright red, seeing how lovely you looked when you smiled. He began to regret it, mentally wondering if he could handle seeing such a kind smile from you frequently.

oh to have a Law pressing me against the kitchen counter

#zombiedumbie writing #law x reader #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar d law #trafalgar d water law #law one piece #one piece x reader #law x you #one piece fluff #one piece fanfic #law fanfic #law fluff

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chloesolace · 2 years

Text

𝘉𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘋𝘳𝘢𝘨𝘰𝘯 - 𝘈𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘥 𝘛𝘢𝘳𝘨𝘢𝘳𝘺𝘦𝘯 𝘹 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 [𝘗𝘢𝘳𝘵 2]

summary: The day of your arranged wedding has come, and a new alliance is forged. Despite what you know about your new husband, his presence alone is enough to make your heeks flush and your hands shake. But would it be so bad to give in to these things you are feeling? Aemond, for one, seems to have made his mind up about you. Though the royal succession is a strong wind to withstand, and the future is never clear.

pairing: Aemond Targaryen x reader

word count: 4k

warnings: making out, strangers trying to take the reader’s clothes off as part of a wedding tradition, no smut; fade to black

a/n: I can’t wait to see adult Aemond in a few weeks!

Part 1

Taglist:

@amethystwonders11 @khaleesihavilliard @nura300 @ateliefloresdaprimavera @aestmilky @rainazinha @cullenswife

If you wish to be added to or removed from the character taglist, please comment underneath this post.

Masterlist - Discord Server - Request Info - Taylor Swift Series

All eyes were on you as you stepped into the throne room. On the right side, you spotted your mother and siblings surrounded by guards, as your stepfather Daemon Targaryen took his spot next to you in your late father’s stead. Your siblings looked worried, but when you met your mother’s eyes, she offered you a reassuring smile. She knew you were making a huge sacrifice, and she was proud of you for that.

Music started playing as you put one foot forward and took hold of your stepfather’s arm, your gaze glued to the stone floor beneath you. The beautiful, cream colored dress you wore squeezed your waist so that you feared you would faint then and there, since the chest piece consisted of a corset partially made out of metal. The sleeves were of the same material, resting upon your shoulders and shaped like relaxed dragon wings, hidden underneath your maiden’s cloak which bore the colors of House Targaryen and House Velaryon.

You raised your gaze only for it to land on the iron throne behind the altar, partially hidden by ornaments and decorations. The throne was not at the center of today’s festivity, and yet, it was the reason that the civil war broke out in the first place, and the reason why you had to marry a man you barely knew. When you were little, before your mother brought you to Dragonstone, you played with Queen Alicent’s children, but the memories of it had faded long ago, leaving only blurred images and memories of feelings.

“Your mother would want me to say that you are doing the right thing,” whispered Daemon when you looked to the left, where the groom's mother and her other children stood. It pained you to see Helaena, since you had spent a lot of time together when you were younger. They all had grown so much, you would have never recognized them on the street.

“And what do you want to say?” You asked, your voice sounding the most emotionless it had been in years. You heard people whisper as you slowly passed them, and the name ‘Strong’ rang in your ear, but you squeezed your eyes shut and tried to focus on walking.

“That you should run if you want to.” His voice was even quieter now, and for a moment it seemed like you actually contemplated the idea, but then you looked at Daemon and offered him a weak smile.

“I will be okay,” you said, which ended the conversation.

The wedding altar had been placed before the iron throne was made of dark stone, and you almost felt a hint of remorse for those who had been tasked with bringing it here. Usually, weddings took place in a sept, but since this was very likely to be the most important wedding of the century, Aegon had allowed to use the throne room for it.

The septon who would officiate the wedding smiled at you as you took your place next to Aemond, who was wearing an own version of the wedding cloak, only his was kept solely in the colors of House Targaryen. Underneath, you saw a black vest and parts of the Targaryen sigil. You looked up at your fiance, taking in the eye patch and scar that appeared from underneath it, while the septon gestured for you both to take each other's hands.

Aemond’s skin felt warm on yours, and you only noticed that your hands shook when he gently squeezed them, making you raise your gaze to meet his eyes once more. The entire throne room was looking at you both, while the septon spoke about a holy union, but looking into Aemond’s eye, the moment felt surprisingly private and intimate. He offered you a faint smile, most likely in an effort to reassure you further, and you smiled back, which made him visibly relax.

You were so caught up in your silent communication that you tensed when Daemon placed his hands on your shoulders, ready to take off your maiden’s cloak. You nodded at your stepfather when he joined your mother and siblings, your cloak in his hands. It was an old tradition for the father to take the bride’s cloak when the time came, and even though you always got along well with Daemon, a part of you wished it was your real father standing next to your mother now.

For the first time, the gathered could marvel at your dress and the beautiful handiwork. You even saw Aemond admire the way the material hugged your body, and the dragon wing shaped sleeves that made you look like you were the embodiment of dragon flame.

“Princess.” You turned your head towards the septon when he addressed you, and you quickly realized it was your sign to proceed with the ceremony, so you let go of Aemond’s hands and turned your back towards him. Without his hands or eyes to anchor you, a brief wave of panic overcame you and you cursed yourself for how pathetic that sounded. You told yourself that you would be brave. It was the responsibility you carried as heir.

You felt Aemond’s presence behind you when he stepped forward to place his cloak on your shoulders, the soft fabric warming your naked arms. His hands lingered on your shoulders, and gently brushed down your arms when he lowered them again, something that caused some of the spectators to whisper. You drew in a breath, reminded of the time you spent together on Zaelix, when he’d held your waist and you’d felt free for the first time in years.

You turned to face him again, taking your hands in his, and waited for the septon to allow you both to speak before proceeding.

“With this kiss,” Aemond and you began in unison, “I pledge my love, and take you for my-”

“-lady and wife.”

“-lord and husband.”

Your eyes dropped to Aemond’s lips as the words left yours, and you caught yourself wondering if they were as soft as they looked. He was so close that you could smell him; an earthy note with a hint of leather.

“With the power given to me, I declare you man and wife. From today on, you are one flesh, one heart, and one soul. Now, and forever. You may kiss.” The septon lowered his head in respect, taking a small step back to offer you two some space.

Your lips parted as Aemond placed his hand on the back of your head, gently guiding you to meet his lips. Applause erupted from all around you, and all the tension you had felt in your body before eased when Aemond placed his other hand on your cheek and pulled away slowly.

The tingling in your stomach made you open your eyes, realizing that you wanted to kiss him again, but it would not be appropriate and you had enough self-control to behave like the princess you were raised to be. Still, you were reminded yet again of when Aemond took you to your dragon and went against his brother, the king he swore to serve, by letting you go for a ride.

The feast that followed was mostly uneventful, except for the numbers of men who got drunk on the finest wine House Targaryen could afford. Loud chatter swallowed any attempt at conversation that you tried to make with Aemond, especially when the food was served and the clinking of forks on plates increased the volume even more.

Your new mother-in-law gave you disapproving looks all evening, but you noticed Aegon trying to ease her repeatedly, until he must have given her the order to behave, because at some point she stopped even looking at you. It helped that she was seated on the other side of the banquet table, out of your sight. But it did not help with the loss of appetite you experienced as you pushed a piece of meat around with a fork.

Then, Aegon stood, his goblet raised towards the ceiling and silenced the room with a single word. All eyes were on him, despite some people being barely able to stand. The part you had dreaded the entire night came, you knew it the moment Aegon’s eyes fell onto you and your new husband. “It is time for the bedding,” he declared, clearly having had his fair share of liquor himself.

You clenched your teeth, hating how every man in the room turned to look at you with hunger in their eyes. Some women were eyeing Aemond in a similar way, but you could only drop your gaze to the half-eaten plate before you and try to ignore the burning in your cheeks.

Next to you, your mother put her hand on yours and leaned in to say something, but loud singing interrupted her before she could even speak.

Two men you had never seen before walked around the table, as they threw their drinks on the ground as if the throne room was a simple tavern smallfolk would visit. But your disgust turned to horror when they grabbed your arms and dragged you from your seat, tearing at the fabric of your dress. The tradition was old and respected by most, but nothing could have prepared you for the feeling of being undressed by strange men.

Your mother told them to stop, but the men were too drunk to think straight, so they continued singing their sea shanty instead, about the daughter of a captain and the untamable waves of the sea. It made you sick.

Just as a woman reached for Aemond, he stood from his seat and wrapped an arm around your waist gently. “Traditions are all good and well,” he said, loud enough for the gathered to hear. “But you’ve all clearly had too much to drink.” The booing almost made you roll your eyes and even move a bit closer towards Aemond, which he must have registered without looking at you, since he tightened his arm around your waist.

“The bedding will take place!” Exclaimed Aegon before falling back into his chair laughing.

“That is quite enough,” intervened your mother as she gestured for you and Aemond to leave, just as Queen Alicent made a snarky remark you were too exhausted to pay attention to.

You felt relieved when Aemond started guiding you out of the throne room, followed only by a handful of servants who had probably been assigned to show you to the quarters. You noticed that you were clinging to Aemond’s robes when you entered a corridor, letting the door fall shut behind you. The sudden silence was deafening as you let go of Aemond’s clothes to rub the palms of your hands together nervously.

You could not look up at him, too big was the unease about what was going to happen. Would he force you to do things you did not want to do? Would he claim you as property, despite it being against the agreement between Queen Alicent and your mother? He could do what he wanted behind closed doors, after all.

Suddenly, the servants stopped in front of a door and lowered their heads. You looked around, trying to figure out which wing you were in, since you had been too busy thinking about the possible outcomes of the night. It was easy to get lost in thought when Aemond helped you navigate the castle, but as you both came to a halt, he removed his arm from your waist.

“Thank you,” he said to the maids, and they bowed their heads again, before leaving you both alone.

Aemond did not seem keen on letting the silence between you become uncomfortable, since he immediately moved to open the door and let you inside. The room was large, with a king sized bed on the right side and a red velvet carped on the stone floor. You heard the door close behind you, but you did not turn as you looked around, taking in the paintings that hung on the walls and the chandelier above your head, until your gaze landed on the bed.

You swallowed, before finally turning to face Aemond. He looked at you softly, his black clothes seemingly blending in with his surroundings. A sudden shiver came over you, and you missed the cloak he had put around your shoulders during the ceremony.

“I will not force you to do anything tonight, Lady (y/n),” he said genuinely, but you took your time to answer. There were no chairs in the room, so you were forced to sit on the bed to relieve your aching feet, watching as he leaned against the bed frame first, but you moved over a little to make space and gestured for him to take a seat. You’d have to sleep in the same bed tonight anyway, refusing to sit next to him would have been ridiculous.

“I appreciate it,” you replied and Aemond nodded at you as he sat down, eye wandering around the room in thought. You looked at him silently. It was the first time you two were so alone in such an intimate environment. Yes, the dragon ride had been more physical, but now you could properly look at him for the first time. At his scars, and the way they disappeared underneath his eye patch. You raised a hand to touch his face but stopped when he tensed.

“I remember when that happened.” Your voice was quiet, your hand still lingering in the air. “I don’t remember much from when we were younger, but… I do remember that. There was blood everywhere when my brother took your eye.”

Aemond pressed his lips together, and you saw him reaching for the eye patch, but his hand dropped before he could do it, so you decided to touch the leather, watching as Aemond closed his eye in response. “Why do you wear that?” You whispered, tracing the leather band wrapped around his head.

“I do not wish to scare the ladies at court.” Your heart ached when his words reached your ears, and you could see on his face that it must have bothered him a lot.

You cupped his cheek, continuing to stroke the leather with your thumb. His lips parted, gaze jumping between your eyes and mouth.

“Do you think you scare me?” You asked, but he didn’t answer. “I am not a mere lady at court. I have been born into war and bloodshed, my earliest memory is of it. I have seen bodies rot and men die. So, no. You do not scare me, Aemond. And you do not have to hide in front of me.” A pause followed, as you searched for the right words to say.

“We are wed now. And, as you said, we should make the most of it. Neither of us should feel caged or unseen.”

You pulled at the string a little to see whether he would resist, but he only closed his eye and allowed you to gently pull off the eye patch, revealing the scarring underneath. You traced the soft skin with your finger, and brushed over his lid softly, before he opened his eyes again, revealing a sapphire crystal which the scarring framed, just big enough to substitute his actual eye.

It was glistening softly when he tilted his head to look at you better, and you let your hand drop, caressing his bottom lip with your thumb. “It’s beautiful,” you breathed, gaze flickering between his eyes. You noticed how the blue of the sapphire made his iris seem brighter in color, as well.

“Do you really think so?” He asked, doubt in his voice but you nodded, and shifted a little closer towards him.

“I’m sorry my brother did this to you,” you said genuinely, “but scars are proof that we survived something. I have my fair share of them, too. At first I hated them, especially the ones caused by my own folly. Then I realized that they are a constant reminder of how fragile we are, and that makes life worth living. Knowing that there will be an end one day, that it could be tomorrow, lets you cherish and live it to the fullest, and gives you courage to do the things you want to do.”

His gaze dropped to your lips again, where it lingered even as he replied, “And what do you want to do, Princess?”

You closed some more of the distance between you slowly, giving him time to retreat if he wanted to, but he placed a hand on your back and pulled you even closer towards him. The sudden movement made you gasp, as you placed your hands on either of his shoulders. Your bodies were so close now that your torsos touched each time you inhaled.

“Do you remember when we were younger, we used to play together sometimes. Before your mother brought you to Dragonstone.” You felt his breath on your skin as he spoke, and his muscles underneath your hands tense. But all you could do in response was shake your head, since you did not remember much from your childhood, one some core memories. “You wanted to train with the swords like us boys, but Ser Criston Cole did not allow it.” That, you did remember. A smile appeared on your lips as you thought about how let one of Helaena’s bugs crawl into his armor when he hadn’t been paying attention.

“Each night,” Aemond continued, “you’d sneak out of your quarters to secretly train.”

“How do you know that?” You asked curiously, since you had been sure no one had noticed back then.

“Because I did the same. Only I did not train, but used the peace of the night to spend it in solitude. Back then, you thought no one saw you. But I did. I saw you how you wielded that sword, getting better each time you picked it up. And when I look at you now, I still see that fierce warrior you trained yourself to be.”

You could only look at him, mouth agape. He clenched his teeth, and you saw that he started regretting saying anything, but you placed your hand on his. “I truly thought no one had even noticed. But… why did you not say that you not mention our past when we saw each other first in that dungeon?”

“I did not know how much you remembered.”

You smiled, as the tingling sensation returned, and you twirled a strand of his long, white hair between your fingers, nose brushing his. “Earlier, you asked me what I wanted to do,” you whispered, before pressing your lips to his softly. “This,” you added when you pulled away. “I want to do this.”

Aemond searched your eyes for a moment, seeming surprised and uncertain. The muscles of his arms flexed, but whatever internal battle he was fighting, it seemed to be over the moment he placed his arm on your back, hooking the other under your knees. His mouth ghosted over yours, before uniting again. You remained in this position while you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and melted into the kiss. It was more passionate and fierce than the previous one, a fire that the kiss which sealed your marriage had ignited and could now finally burn.

Aemond bit down on your bottom lip softly, and you moaned just as he finally lifted you up a little, only to lay you on your back, letting you sink into the soft mattress. He climbed on top of you, his long hair tingling your cheeks, which made you giggle against your will.

You weren’t sure about your feelings yet, and this marriage had just begun after all, but something about the way his hand felt on your skin, and the way he looked at you when he thought you weren’t paying attention made you believe this might not have been the worst thing to happen to you.

In fact, you were sure that the entire castle could hear the euphoria he made you feel that night, and you did not mind even the slightest bit.

---

Eight Years Later

You were gently swaying the crib from side to side when Aemond entered the candle lit room, your six year old son, Aerydor, behind him. He giggled happily when he spotted you, and you wrapped your arms around him the moment he ran up to you.

“How is the council?” You asked Aemond as you ruffled your son’s white hair.

“Unbearable in your absence, my love,” he replied with an exhausted sigh, but a smile soon followed.

He came to a halt next to you, placing his hands on your shoulders, which he slowly started to massage. You exhaled deeply when he kneaded your tense muscles, looking down at the peacefully sleeping baby in the crib. “As it is when you are looking after her,” you replied, turning to offer your husband a tired smile.

“At least she grows up with her parents taking care of her, not maids.” Aemond dropped his hands from your shoulders and walked to the side of the crib, to pull the baby’s blanket higher a little.

Six years ago, Aegon and his children had died, leaving you and Aemond to inherit the throne. Since then, you had both attended council meetings and reigned as equals. Though your luck couldn’t be greater, you had a feeling that your family had had something to do with Aegon’s death, but you chose not to investigate further. None of the plotting and family wars of the past concerned you anymore, since you had found your luck and happiness.

“She seems to get bigger with each day that passes,” Aemond said, smiling brightly. You hadn’t seen him this happy since your son was born, and it warmed your heart.

“Mommy, I’m tired.”

Aemond and you both looked down at the little prince, who was now rubbing his eyes and looking very grumpy. You laughed and lifted him up to sit him on the bed behind you. “How lucky that you are already wearing your sleeping clothes, then.” You kissed his forehead and watched as he crawled underneath the blanket, hearing the sound of Aemond extinguishing the candles one by one.

You both changed into your nightgowns and soon joined your son in the bed, where he was already sound asleep between you two. Although he had his own room, he was scared of the dark so you and Aemond let him sleep in your bed from time to time. Though Aerydor had most likely already decided that this bed, which was four times the size of the one standing in his room, actually belonged to him.

“When Elaena grows up,” you whispered to Aemond, whom you were facing on the bed, “I want her to train just like Aerydor does.”

“So she wouldn’t have to sneak out at night and do it herself?” Aemond teased, but you only rolled your eyes with a smile.

“Yes, precisely.”

“Do not worry.” He reached over Aerydor to caress your cheek with his fingers, eye flickering between yours, as his sapphire glistened faintly. “I will see to it personally that Elaena will be as skilled with a sword as she will be at court.”

You smiled, eyes jumping between Aerydor and Aemond, as you marveled at your small family. Briefly, you wished your mother could have been here to see how well your life had turned out and that you had ascended the Iron Throne at last. Not as consort, but as Queen. It was the first time in history that Westeros had two reigning monarchs, and it was a change you were keen on keeping.

Aemond closed his eyes, exhaling deeply as he wrapped his arm around you and Aerydor, and soon you drifted off to sleep, dreaming of a princess and a dragon, who brought even the strongest of knights to their knees.

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #house of the dragon #game of thrones #aemond targaryen x you #rhaenyra targaryen #daemon targaryen #alicent hightower

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kairiscorner · 1 year

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Helloo, can I request Miguel with an artist reader who draws him a lot? 👉👈 Like the reader has a secret crush on Miguel and he inspires them a lot, without even knowing it. And maybe there's a Gwen-and-Miles-like-situation where Miguel by accident discovers the drawings of him in their sketchbook?

AAAAAAAA ANON THIS IS SO CUTE !! tbh i wanted to finish the miggy fic i had for ate @binibinileonara bc i wanted to connect these two together, BUT I COULDN'T RESIST, I'LL MAKE IT SEPARATE BC WHY NOT !! thank you for the lovely idea btw (i also had an idea like this actually in my notes) THANKS FOR GIVING ME THE OOMPH TO DO IT !!

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

you always had this desire to capture all that interested you in its full beauty, in its unbridled greatness. that was, to you, the essence of all your art pieces; they always reflected how you saw the world, how you saw nature, how you saw people.

you never believed people had one or two faces to them, you believed people were multi-faceted, that every person was a kaleidoscope of beauty, skills, quirks, flaws, fears, hopes, and dreams. you loved capturing every bit of people who intrigued you the best you could, and you hoped that if you stood back and admired the big picture that was them, going over the details and fibers that made each person their own–from the good, bad, pretty and ugly details–you would finally see the whole, uncut image of the person you were illustrating; who you were painting in the colors you saw them in, the colors that stuck with you and filled the empty canvas of your mind with all sorts of shapes and splotches of hues and shades that formed the image of them when their name would come to mind.

and for some reason... that person to you right now was miguel o'hara. you had a lot of things to say about him, even words that many would argue don't exist. you felt a myriad of feelings when you were around miguel, and you knew there was more than just the dictating leader miguel that everyone was familiar with. like all people, miguel, too, was an explosion of different kinds of colors to you–colors that only you could see, because when he was around you... he was more than just the cool, calm, and collected boss everyone saw him as.

he was much more caring, much more funny around you. his smile when you told him a funny story illuminated a bright yellow and a warm orange to you–his eyes would twinkle and you'd see the hazelnut brown in his eyes, and a shade of what appeared to be coffee brown at the bottom of his irises. he exuded a commanding aura, a dark, cool blue–but when paired with you, and only you, he exuded a bright red; a color of fiery passion, intimacy, and most of all... attraction.

he was the subject of your affections, you, the soulful and emotional artist that admired him and all that he was from afar and up close. you admired the way he held your hand when you were scared on a few missions, you admired how gently he held you when you two were caught between a rock and a hard place; and how soft and loving his eyes were when they gazed at you. you knew he might have felt a platonic kind of love for you, what with being so comfortable around you and all, but you felt a different kind of love for him–and you hated denying your creative side the indulgence of capturing him in all his beauty.

hence, you began slowly filling the empty spaces of your sketchbooks and notebooks, or whatever other papers lay around when inspiration struck you, with images of him and only him. you caught his face in moments where he was nonchalant, disappointed, angry, grumpy, and... smiling.

when you witnessed his smile for the first time when you met him, that image was burned into your retinas, into your mind, into your heart. you saw that smile from the minute you went to bed to the minute you woke up, the only thing that saddened you was that you could never hold that man who smiled at you and made your heart beat a little faster–you could only watch him and be with him at a distance. but art was the bridge between you two that'd close that distance you wanted to cover so, so badly.

you did, at times, believe what you were doing was... a little creepy. you refused to let anyone see your sketchbooks even before you drew him, and that was out of embarrassment at your drawings. but now, it was a new kind of embarrassment, a feeling adjacent to guilt and disgust at how nobody but he could fill your mind and have you wanting to keep him in your mind by feeding yourself, indulging yourself in putting him on paper and coloring him in; to be with him at a closer perspective than how you two were in the real world.

you had to admit it–seeing him constantly in your mind, wanting to let thoughts of him out on paper as you wanted to be through with imagining him, but knew you couldn't the more and more you portrayed him–it meant you... wanted him. you really, really loved him.

you knew nobody should know, nobody had to know about this little crush you had on miguel. you'd rather die than have someone peek at your sketchbook that was filled with all kinds of drawings of him. but unfortunately, the man himself bore witness to your caricatures and illustrations of him when you left your sketchbook at his office.

you ran as quickly as you could, praying he hadn't opened it out of curiosity. he was always asking you what you were up to, and you'd immediately shut your sketchbook and laugh awkwardly, claim you were merely doodling. you always left out the part that you were constantly drawing him, and only ever him; and now, he'd find out.

as you entered his office, scouring with your eyes for your sketchbook, a figure emerged from the darkness behind you and gave a slight cough. "this is yours, isn't it?" that low, fluid voice was none other than miguel's. you turned around in fear of what he was going to look like–would any of the faces you drew seeing him as be one of the faces you'd see?

to your surprise... no. he had a different, completely new face that you had never drawn him in; a flustered state. he was blushing, his angled cheeks and high nose bridge were covered in a pink-red hue–and he was grinning. he handed you the sketchbook with a now sheepish smile. "i'm sorry, i wasn't sure if it was yours. i had to... look through for a name. and, um... it was very–" he wanted to continue, but then, he saw you were on the verge of tears.

"i'm... sorry..." you muttered, feeling incredibly ashamed of yours and busted for having indulged in drawing him without him knowing. guilt stirred in your stomach and elicited tears to well up in your eyes. miguel smiled, and as his eyebrows curved upwards together to form a look of reassurance, he placed both hands on your shoulders.

"listen, you have a wonderful talent. i'm sorry if you don't hear that enough, but that changes today. i'm so... wow, i'm so flattered you thought i was good enough to be drawn that way. it feels... amazing, to know an artist sees me fit to be their, what would you call it?" he asked as he wiped a tear rolling down your cheek away from you.

"a... muse." you whispered, wiping the rest of your tears away. miguel chuckled. "right, a muse." he said as he inched closer to you, with the sweetest smile on his face. "i might sound really crazy right now, but... i want to be your muse. i really, really want to be your muse." he said, with emphasis on 'your'.

your face lightened up as the tears that welled up gave your eyes a glassy look, and you saw the blush on his deepen as you became more and more flustered. you smiled and wrapped your arms around his chest, pulling him in for an embrace you needed to release. "and i want to be your artist. only yours." you whispered, to which miguel reciprocated your hug. and it was here that you witnessed him in a new color, a pinkish, reddish hue that made you feel all kinds of happiness and excitement.

a love meant to be captured and painted in with bursts of emotion and care for one another.

a/n: I'M SO SORRY IF IT DIDN'T COME OUT THAT WELL NGL I MADE THIS A LITTLE RUSHED 😭😭😭 BUT I LOVE MIGGY HERE PLSSS AND I HOPE Y'ALL LOVE HIM HERE, TOO <333

tags !! @thecoolerdor @miguelswifey04 @binibinileonara @luvstarrstruck

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara fluff #miguel o'hara fanfiction #atsv #atsv miguel #atsv x reader #atsv x you #atsv x y/n #spidersona

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jenniferjareauwife · 6 months

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JJ and Emily x reader where they find out that r smokes a ton of weed and like vapes and stuff when they thought she was really innocent maybe a few months into their relationship or a while in and she just didn't tell

(I completely understand if you can't do this request and If you can im fine with emily and jj together or separate and if both are too much you can choose one)

Sorry for the bother have a good day/night xx

High

pairing: jennifer jareau x fem reader

category: fluff

warnings: weed, innuendo

word count: 601

summary: your girlfriend is shocked to find out that you get high

a/n: i don't write for emily so i only wrote it for jj. this was absolutely not a bother and please leave more requests if you have them!

I laid down on the couch, staring up at the ceiling as it swirled around, different colors everywhere. I smiled and laughed, the colors making weird shapes. "What are you laughing at?" I heard JJ's voice but I didn't care. She had never seen me like this and I was too stoned to care.

"Look at the shapes."

"What shapes?" She looked up at the ceiling, not seeing anything. "Are you ok baby?" She touched my shoulder and it felt like my skin was tingling under her touch, I leaned into her for more, her touch feeling euphoric.

"I'm great." I wrapped my arms around her waist and buried my face into the side of her leg as she stood next to the couch.

"What's happening?"

"Love you so much."

"I love you too baby." She reached down to pet my hair before kneeling down next to me. She wrinkled her nose once she smelt my breath. "What...oh my God. Are you high?" She shot up, her eyebrows raising in shock.

"What?"

"You're high!" She started laughing, putting her hand over her mouth. "Is this your first time being high?"

"No." I smiled up at her and made grabby hands, wanting the tingly feeling of her on my skin again. "Come back." She grabbed my hands and pulled me up, kissing me hard on the lips with a smile. "Do that again please."

"I didn't know you smoked weed." She whispered with a big smile.

"I do." I hugged her as tight as possible, relaxing against her body. "Is that weird?"

"No...no it's not I just never thought you would be one to do that." She held me against her tightly, stroking my hair.

"It makes me fuzzy."

"I can tell." She kissed the top of my head, I could imagine her smiling in my mind and it made me so happy. "Why are you so weirded out by me being high?"

"You just...I mean we've only been dating a few months and I guess I just never imagined that you'd be the kind of person to do it. I thought you were an innocent little baby." She kissed my temple, practically holding me up as I leaned my full body weight against her.

"Well...I'm not an innocent little baby." I giggled into her neck. "In bed...yes-"

"Oh my God shut up." She giggled, messing up my hair. "I'm gonna take you up to bed though, ok? It's getting late."

"Are you staying over?" I asked excitedly, wrapping my arms around her neck as she picked me up bridal style, carrying me

up my stairs into my bedroom.

"Of course I'm staying over babe."

"You're so nice. I love you so much." I made grabby hands for her once again as she laid me down in bed.

"I'll be back in a minute honey. I'm gonna brush my teeth and change into something more comfy."

"But I want you." She blushed.

"If you're always this cuddly while you're high I definitely want to see this more often." She kissed my forehead. "I'll be right back. Don't worry and don't go anywhere." I pouted but stayed where I was.

She came back five minutes later, pulling me on top of her while she laid on her back. I smiled happily and hummed, my brain going fuzzy as she left loving scratches on my back. "I love you so much baby." I blushed, my entire face turning red. It seemed like every compliment and every touch from her was intensified and it was almost overwhelming but I welcomed it.

"I love you too."

#criminal minds #jennifer jareau #x reader #jennifer jareau x reader #lgbtq #wlw post #jennifer jareau x you

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thoughtsfromlayla · 1 month

Text

Love and Loss Extra Content (2)

Based on the characters from Love and Loss

Summary: Your and Morpheus' daughter returns to the Dreaming with new knowledge of the Waking World. And she must let her father know about it. A few bows, a raven, and the King of Nightmares.

Notes: ~1k words, you don't have to read the original one shot to enjoy, reach the end for a surprise?

Warnings/Tags: fluff and family fun time

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist | One Shot Masterlist

“And this one is pink,” Delphyne explains aloud as she fastens the ribbon to her father’s hair.

“Mhm,” Morpheus hums as he bows his head to let the child reach his hair.

Delphyne had just come back from the waking world, using her shape shifting abilities to sneak off as she often does. She goes every few years or so to see what the mortals are up to. Currently, bows are in fashion, according to her—bows and fake gems that have adhesive stuck to the back of them.

Morpheus never understood why she needed to visit the drab, logical world of the waking. Everything his daughter needed was right here in the Dreaming. He could conjure up anything she could ever imagine. Mythical creatures, playmates, locations… if she names it, the King of Dreams would be at her mercy.

“This one is pink and covered in glitter.” She continues, sitting on his lap as she clamps it onto his bangs. “And this—um, daddy, more hair,” Delphyne asks, tugging on his robe sleeve.

“More hair?” Morpheus repeats, looking down at her.

She pouts, squishing her nose in annoyance as her father doesn’t understand her right away. Obviously, she’s running out of room to do her impromptu art. “More hair, grow more hair!”

“When did you get so demanding, little love?” Morpheus asks with a frown.

“Learned it from Mama,” She sighed exasperated as if stating the obvious. “Please?”

Weak to her pleas, Morpheus changes the length of hair, allowing the strands to grow longer just as his daughter asked. She claps happily as they reach his shoulder blades, standing excitedly and balancing on his lap. The ridges of her shoes dig into Morpheus’ thighs but he finds that he doesn’t mind the pain at all.

“The human girls taught me how to braid hair, too,” She continued her rambles, having forgotten her bows and fake jewels in her father’s lap.

With inexperienced hands, Delphyne grabs her father’s hair, separating them into strands before she begins to braid them, too. She ties them off with more ribbons before deeming that she needed more practice and began to braid another strand.

Morpheus grows limp under her experiments, only moving to ensure she doesn’t fall from his lap. He listens to her as she talks about her adventure to the waking world all the while she clamps and ties ribbons and bedazzles his face. There’s a new bakery down one street, the cobbler’s boy just married the printer’s daughter, and how could she forget that someone’s kitty cat was found stuck in a tree. She likes how loud the music is this time around, but she hates how dirty the river water has recently gotten.

“Okay, I done.” She dusts her hands off, puffing out her chest in pride as she takes a once over look at her masterpiece. After nodding her approval, she slides off Morpheus’ lap, already skipping off to some new adventure to behold. “Bye, daddy. Thanks for playing with me!”

The palace seems to suddenly lose all of its color as Delphye leaves. Morpheus returns to his normal scenery, the atmosphere suddenly too quiet for his liking—and he liked quiet.

“Wow… you look… colorful,” Matthew lets out slowly, trying his best not to laugh. The raven has learned that it’s much harder to laugh as a bird and instead he just caw’s obnoxiously loud now. It’s nothing he can control even though he wishes he could.

Morpheus doesn’t bother with a response, only removing one of the smaller bows by the metal clamp in the back. He clips it to the top of Matthew's head with a poorly hidden smirk.

“Hey!” Matthew flails as he tries to look at the neon pink bow, but now he learns that birds can’t look up with just their eyeballs. His head twitches as he tries to get the foreign object out of his feathers, his wings flapping around and he’s reminded that he doesn’t have hands anymore.

Matthew gives up, now a panting slump on the cold stone floor of the palace. He looks around to find that Morpheus had already left him and he stands back on his feet with a sad expression.

“He’s so mean sometimes,” the bird complains to himself. He turns one way and the other, the nails on his claws clack against the floor before he thinks to seek out Lucienne with some help.

‎

Morpheus finds you within your own realm, your shepherd's crook in hand as you stand amongst your flock of sheep. The garden nymphs are hard at work, planting seeds for the next harvest and you’re busy scolding the fluffy mammals.

“Patricia, stop trying to bite Albie’s ears, he hates it.” You speak to one of the animals.

Baaa!

“I don’t care if you think you’re flirting with him, he doesn’t like it,” You scold. “And you, Terry, will you please stop eating the alfalfa, it is toxic to your little body.”

Baaa?

“Yes, I am aware you are all technically dead, sacrificed and all. But in my care, stop eating the alfalfa,” You grit out, your grip on your shepherd's crook growing tighter in frustration.

You’re about to scold your third victim of the night when the sheep begin to grow unsettled. They back away from you and start belting out warning calls before completely leaving your side. Your head is tilted in confusion, your mouth still open in preparation of another lesson for your sheep.

What in the world?

You turn around to see what your sheep had grown so afraid of, only to let out a surprised yelp yourself. You drop your shepherd's crook in surprise, your hand’s going over your heart as if it could stop it from beating so hard.

“You scared me! What in the Meadows’ green fields happened to you,” You cry out, finally taking a deep breath as you realize it was just your husband.

Morpheus stands before you, his shoulder slumped and arms defeated at his side.

“Your daughter,” He explains.

Your shocked expression turns to laughter as you take a closer look at him. From his neck downward is nothing but his typical dark attire, fitting for the King of Nightmares. But everything else, covered in bows and glitter and gems was what little girl’s dreams are made of.

“Our daughter,” You correct between chortles, delicately grabbing one of the braids in his hair. “How did you agree to this?”

“She said please,” he counters and that was the end of the conversation.

Here you go, reward for reading it all:

Bedazzled and ready for battle

♡ Yours, Layla

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist | One Shot Masterlist

#the sandman #dream of the endless #morpheus #morpheus x reader #the sandman fanfic #dream of the endless x reader #dream x reader #the sandman x reader #sandman x reader #my poor photoshop skills #dream the endless #dream the endless x reader #morpheus as a daughter dad

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girl-in-a-bubbl3 · 2 months

Text

Glamrock Bonnie(FNAF) x Reader Part 2

Not enough sassy Bonnie fanfic so here we go...I'll try to upload at least once a week.

Notes:

AU Fanfic/NonCanon

Bonnie is terrible but he likes you

5 greenrooms on RSR (we include Monty)

Sun/Moon are the same animatronic

Moon has a lil touch of the virus

Will probably be some spicy parts so...18+

You smiled nervously up at the abnormally tall blue bunny and quietly introduced yourself. "Hi. I'm Y/n L/n! I'm the new mechan-"

"I know who you are," Bonnie sneered back at you, "that wasn't my question."

Rude.

Did all of the animatronics have this terrible attitude? And if so, then why? Weren't they supposed to be programed to be happy and helpful and kind? You cleared your throat and stood a little taller. The bite in his voice stirred something inside you.

"If you know who I am, then you know I'm here to check your programming or do any needed repairs."

Bonnie's ear twitched which led your eye to a few stray wires that had come loose between his steel joints.

"And from here, it's obvious that you need at least one of those thing."

Maybe both if that attitude happens to be a bug or something...

Bonnie stared you down for a moment. It was like you could see the gears turning in his head. You silently laughed to yourself over the robotic pun you made. Bonnie's quiet chuckle snapped you back to reality. His magenta eyes shining behind his star shaped glasses.

"Not interested."

Swoosh.

And there went the door again.

You blinked once. Twice. Three times. He did not just slam that door in my face. Tell me he did not. You asked no one but yourself. You stood there contemplating your next move. Use your keycard and storm in or just suck it up and move on to the next room?

Deciding that it may not be smart to trigger an oversized, robotic bunny just in case his AI is bugged, you stomped off to the next room. The light above the door glowed a warm orange. This was Freddy's room, someone you hoped was considerably kinder than the first Glamrock you happened to meet.

You knocked twice and waited for Freddy to come to his door. You had a keycard that unlocked all of the greenroom doors but you preferred to knock and wait for them instead. Just barging in felt...strange, no matter if they were robot or human.

The door opened and before you stood Freddy Fazbear himself.

"Hi Freddy! I'm y/n! I figured I'd dive right in to seeing how everyone was doing tonight. Everything okay with you? Any repairs?"

You were rambling but Freddy's blue irises just twinkled. "Why hello, Superstar! It's so nice to meet you! Please come in. I don't think there's anything to report with me tonight but there's never any harm in a second opinion!"

You cheerily followed Freddy into his room, slowing to admire the colors and the detail to the Freddy theme. The walls were a warm, rose color with beautifully bright orange neon signs around the room. There were posters of Freddy with plenty of fan art surrounding them as well. It was inviting and cozy, just like Freddy.

"Thank you for being so inviting Freddy. I've only had one other experience besides you and it...didn't go so well."

You hooked up your tablet to Freddy's programming port and started your scan. He looked over at you, troubled. "Oh I am so sorry, Superstar. May I ask who gave you trouble?"

"It was Bonnie, actually. He really does need repairs but he won't let me do them. He shut the door in my face."

You noticed Freddy nervously fiddling with his fingers. "I apologize again. Bonnie hasn't had the best experience with other mechanics in the past. He's so talented and so great with the children but the adults..." Freddy looked at you and then at the floor, "he's not as good."

You chuckled. No kidding.

"Don't give up on him, Superstar. He'll come around. Bonnie can be difficult at first, but he is a stellar friend."

Freddy's smile and optimism were both contagious. You chatted a bit more about the job and your plans for the night before you cleared Freddy and proceeded to do checks with all of the other Glamrocks. Chica and Roxy needed a few things. Chica had to have some wires cleaned after a night rummaging through trash and Roxy had a kink in the wire running through her neck joints. Both easily fixable. Monty wasn't in his greenroom. You figured you'd go by Gator Golf later and see if you could find him there. According to the notes on your task list, he was in a foul mood tonight so he was probably off skulking somewhere.

A few hours later you had crossed off a few more things from your task list: checking some sound equipment (which you were not at all qualified for), tweaking a few things with the atrium stage, etc. etc. After everything else was done, you only had one task left: repair Bonnie.

You sighed and headed towards Bonnie Bowl. You didn't think he'd be in there, but you did love bowling so if he wasn't in there, it was an excuse you could give yourself to play a few games. You weren't quite ready to face him again anyway. You had to prepare your witty comebacks.

You cautiously walked into Bonnie Bowl and started looking around. "Hey Bonnie?"

You called out his name a few more times but no response. You sighed in relief. You had the bowling alley all to yourself.

It wasn't hard to bypass the staff bot and start a game for yourself. You loved the design of Bonnie Bowl. The bright, neon stars on the ceiling were mesmerizing and the floors were perfectly waxed to reflect them. Every time you stopped and actually looked at something in the Plex, your inner child was dazzled every time. It truly was amazing.

After the first few rounds you quickly realized that your bowling skills were pretty rusty. When the 10th, and final, round came, you were determined to get a strike. You knew you could do it. You did a little better each round so you had faith in yourself.

You grabbed a pink and blue ball off the wrack with Chica's face on it. It was one of the prettier designs. You lined yourself up with the lane and narrowed your eyes. Focus focus focus. Doing a few strokes with your arm you reared back and released the ball, letting it glide across the lane towards the pins. It was like time had slowed. You watched the ball roll down the center, reflecting the dazzling neons that flashed around the room. As it neared the pins, you thought you saw it start to veer towards the left. Your excitement waned but it was quickly brought back with full force as the ball corrected itself and slammed into the front pin, sending all 9 other pins flying as well.

It was a strike. You had got a strike.

You hooped and hollered in victory, doing a little dance and punching the air. You laughed to yourself and as you went to do another little spin, you stopped dead in your tracks once you saw who was sitting in the seat directly behind you.

Of course, it was Bonnie.

He had the biggest smirk on his face as he used one clawed finger to push his star shaped glasses further up.

"If your mechanical skills are as good as your bowling, then I'm better off in a scrapyard."

You rolled your eyes and didn't give him a response, you just started walking towards the empty ice cream parlor that was attached to Bonnie Bowl. You felt like you earned a treat.

"Hey I was talkin' to you!" Bonnie called out as he started following behind you.

"Yeah, well, I was talking to you earlier and you shut the door in my face."

"You startled me. I was leaving my room to go get some fresh air and I was surprised by your sudden chattiness. Very overwhelming."

His voice dripped with sarcasm and he chuckled as you shot him a look over your shoulder.

"You're going to be surprised by your room catching on fire because of that exposed wire in your ear."

Bonnie rolled his eyes. "Dramatic much?"

You hopped the counter and shrugged, turning back to look at his shocked expression from what you just did. "It could happen. Also, don't look at me like that. I really want some ice cream."

You grabbed all of the necessary things to make yourself a cup of ice cream. You surveyed all of your options. You giggled at the last ice cream flavor. Chunky Bonnie. What a flavor name. Because of the ridiculous name, of course that's the flavor you picked.

While getting and preparing your ice cream, you abruptly noticed how quiet it had become. You were wondering if Bonnie was still stuck in that same spot. You had a brief panic that it was the made up bug you kept telling yourself he might have.

You quickly spun around to check when you almost ran right into a tall, blue metal wall.

But it wasn't a wall at all.

Your eyes drifted upwards and saw the face of an amused robotic bunny. His bright magenta eyes staring down at you with that signature smirk on his face. Your breath caught in your throat. How did he do that? You never heard anything at all. How could he be so quiet?

"What about me, peeps? Do I get ice cream too?"

To be continued...

Authors notes:

Ahhh it's warming uppp. Feel free to give me feedback or leave comments! They encourage me ;-; And feel free to drop suggestions on other fics for me to write!! Can be FNAF related or not. Much love! <3

#glamrock bonnie x reader #glamrock bonnie #glamrock freddy #fnaf #fnaf security breach #security breach #writing #oc #fanfic #fanfic writing #suggestions #welcome #<3

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baronessblixen · 10 months

Text

Stolen Christmas Moments

Day 4: Stolen Mistletoe Kiss

I'm doing the 24 Days of X-Mas Files Challenge that msrafterdark posted!

Summary: Scully is celebrating Christmas in San Diego and Mulder? Misses her so much that he decides to take a few chances. (wc: 1,701, fluff)

Tagging @today-in-fic

He hasn’t thought this plan through at all. The only problem is that he doesn’t realize it until it’s much too late.

“What are you doing here?” Bill Jr. asks him and his grouchy face doesn’t fit at all with the whimsical Christmas sweater he’s wearing. Mulder wonders if Scully is wearing a similar one. Whether Mrs. Scully got all her children matching sweaters. He wouldn’t put it past her. But now is not the time to lose himself in thoughts.

“You couldn’t have called?” Bill goes on. “You have to ruin another Christmas by showing up here?”

He should defend himself. But how? Bill is right. He has no right to be here. Scully left a few days ago, smiling brightly from ear to ear, reminding him that she would be in San Diego for the holidays. He had wished her a merry Christmas like the good partner he is and promised himself – and her – that he wouldn’t call her.

Well, he hasn’t called her. In a moment of pure insanity, he booked a flight to San Diego and here he is, standing in front of her big brother, who is crossing his arms in front of his chest like a bodyguard.

He really should have thought this through.

“Sc- Dana said not to call her.” Of all the things he could have said, he chooses this. Bill blinks at him, seemingly surprised. “I- she forgot something and I thought I’d… bring it to her."

“What did she forget?” Maybe Bill should start working for the FBI. He’s asking all the right questions and making Mulder squirm. What could she have possibly forgotten? What could be so important that he had to fly out to San Diego to bring it to her?

“What,” and Bill’s face comes dangerously close to his, “has she forgotten that is so important?”

“Um,” Mulder says, taking a step back. This was a dumb decision. He’s made a few of these in this life but this one ranks high. Very high. He decides to change course. Bill already hates him anyway and no matter what he says, that won’t change.

“I’m gonna be honest with you, Bill,” he starts and surprise flashes on the other’s man’s face. Much like his sister, he is easy to read; Mulder is fluent in Scully expressions.

“Dana didn’t forget anything. The reason I’m here is simple.” As simple as it is, it’s damn difficult to admit it. It’s one thing to admit it to himself while sitting on the couch in his apartment, his fish his only company. It’s another to admit it to Scully’s brother who’d rather he disappeared from his sister’s life.

“Is that Fox?” Mrs. Scully appears at the door and she, too, is wearing a reindeer sweater with a blinking red nose. Mulder smiles sheepishly. “Oh, what a surprise,” she says and sounds honest. “Bill, let Fox in. Dana will be so excited to see you.”

“Mom, he wasn’t invited,” Bill says.

“There’s enough room here and food. It’s cold, Bill. Let Fox in and close the door.”

“It’s San Diego,” Bill says, “it’s anything but cold. But I guess I have to let you in,” he says turning to Mulder. He nods, swallowing.

“Thank you.” Bill trots off as Mulder takes off his shoes and his coat. He still hasn’t figured out what he’s going to say to Scully. People he’s never seen in his life are walking around the Scully house. Their hair colors and shapes look vaguely familiar, so he figures they’re all somehow related. He’s crashed into a full-blown Scully Christmas celebration.

“Mulder?” And there she is. The reason he flew across the country without a single thought. Or even a present. Fuck. He did this all wrong. But her face lights up and she smiles up at him as if genuinely happy to see him here. “What are you- why are you in San Diego? Please tell me it’s not another case.”

“No,” he says with a slight shake of his head. “Not a case. I know you said not to call you but-”

“I meant not to call me about work, Mulder. You know that. So why are you here? You were just in the neighborhood?” She’s teasing him. She’s honest to god teasing him. With him showing up here out of the blue, she could be angry, she could be sending him away. She’s doing neither. Instead, she’s smiling softly at him. As if she wanted him here as much as he wanted to spend Christmas with her.

“I- I was just in the neighborhood,” he confirms with a grin. “Unless you want me to leave again.”

“Don’t you dare. Though we need to find something for you to wear.”

“What’s wrong with my clothes?”

“We’re all wearing these,” Scully says, pointing at her Christmas sweater. There’s a huge smiling snowman on hers and it looks so soft that Mulder wants to touch it. “We’ll find you one.” When she takes his hand, he marvels at how warm her skin feels.

“Come on upstairs. My mom always has at least one extra sweater.”

“Shouldn’t you, I don’t know, ask her?” Mulder lets himself be dragged up the stairs, well aware that this is Bill Jr.’s house. He doubts the other man wants him up here. Or anywhere, really. Scully, however, doesn’t seem to care. She’s still smiling, going into one of the bedrooms and leaving the door wide open. Mulder remains outside, scared to follow her.

“I’m sharing with my mom,” she lets him know. “I knew it.” She returns a few moments later, holding another colorful Christmas sweater.

“You’re not serious.”

“If you want to spend Christmas with the Scullys, Mulder, you must look the part. You can go change in there.” She points at what he supposes is the bathroom. He takes the unbelievably soft sweater and closes the door behind him to catch his breath.

Did not think this through, he reminds himself as he takes off his own sweater to put on the Scully Christmas sweater. It’s a bit snug but it will do. He looks at himself in the mirror and smiles. He looks as ridiculous as the rest of them. He needs to thank Scully for this. For accepting him into her brother’s home and making him a part of this.

Just as he’s about to leave, he sees it: mistletoe. Who would put mistletoe in the bathroom? He doesn’t even think about it. He leans up and unties it, stuffing it into his jeans pocket. Maybe it will come in handy later.

Mulder doesn’t remember the last time he had this much fun. Even Bill Jr. is friendly to him, bringing him a glass of punch.

“You don’t think it’s poisoned, do you?” Mulder asks Scully, smelling the fruity concoction.

“He wouldn’t dare do that to Mom on Christmas.”

“So you do think he would poison me?” Mulder takes a sip, reveling in the sweet taste.

“Not on Christmas.” Scully winks at him, making him wonder how much punch she’s had. Seeing her this happy is a dream come true. This is what he wanted for her. This is what he wanted to witness, too.

Last year he almost fucked it up by taking up too much of her time. Always unable to let her go. Bill Jr. is right when he calls him a selfish bastard. He wants to spend time with Scully like this, too. Carefree. Happy. Christmas is not the only thing he almost ruined last year. The kiss that never was. Blurting an I love you in the hospital after she once again saved his ass. The whole Diana business. This year, he wants to do everything right.

“Scully, I didn’t bring any presents.”

“No one will notice, Mulder.” She pats his hand.

“I don’t have a gift for you either.”

“I don’t need a present.” When she turns to him, her cheeks are pink and her blue eyes are sparkling. “I’d like some company while I get some fresh air though.” This is his moment. This is it. He follows her outside as if in a trance, the mistletoe poking his thigh. It’s dark already, but it doesn’t feel like it with the Christmas lights surrounding them. It’s not cold here in San Diego, but there’s a cool breeze and Scully stands close to him, sharing his warmth.

“I do have something,” Mulder says after a moment of comfortable silence. “I’m not sure how original the gift is or if it’s something you like, but…” He puts his hand in his pocket, winces when his skin gets caught on the mistletoe, and takes it out.

“Is that- Mulder, is that mistletoe?”

He nods, smiling softly. “I have to admit that I stole it.”

“From where?” Scully is smiling too.

“Upstairs bathroom. I saw it and- Scully, the reason I came here isn’t that I was looking to steal mistletoe and kiss you. But maybe it’s part of it. I was sitting at home and I was missing you. I was thinking about last year and how much fun we had.” She raises her eyebrows. “It was fun, wasn’t it? In hindsight. Anyway, it made me realize that I didn’t want to spend Christmas without you.”

“Why didn’t you call?”

“I should have. I know I shouldn’t have flown here but- I thought I’d take a chance.” And he’s doing it again, offering her the mistletoe. She takes it, turning it around in her palm.

“Guess it’s my turn now, hm?” Scully looks at him and then lifts her arm, barely reaching over his head, but it doesn’t matter. They meet in the middle and when Scully lets go of the mistletoe, it lands in his hair, and as their kiss heats up, in the snow.

When they go back inside a few minutes later, Mrs. Scully asks if it’s cold because they’re both pink-faced. Their pinkies meet out of Mrs. Scully’s sight and they both nod in unison. Mrs. Scully probably doesn't believe them - if her face is an indication - but nothing else matters tonight. Scully kissed him. His Christmas wish has already come true.

#ficmas2023 #this one is my fave so far!#it's fluffy #bill jr and mrs. scully will probably show up a few more times #msr #xf fanfic #my writing #my fic

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