#and I haven’t felt like that for a while. but it’s coming back again and I seriously didn’t expect it..
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xxstylefntsyxx · 3 days ago
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I WANNA RUIN OUR FRIENDSHIP, WE SHOULD BE LOVERS INSTEAD
[Part 1]- [Part 2]-[you are here]
Continuation I ran out of words what the fuck so this is a finale and small story.
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"You sure you wanna do this? If you're not sure, you can just stop here." He asked you gently, holding your hips in place. You adjusted your hips, feeling his cock slide against your clit. You moaned, twitching slightly at the tip, lightly touching it each time you moved. He chuckled, "Mm okay, okay. That's fine honey, just wanted to make sure you were sure." He whispered. He placed is hands on your hips, a tight grip that made you hum.
"You know I've thought about doing this to you. A lot, o really just wanted to hold you and make you feel special." He placed himself at your entrance, "Something special, in my opinion. But another part of me just wanted to hear you."
He slowly filled you, making you whine. He was big, fit snuggly in between your wet folds. He whimpered at the warmth enveloping him.
"Wan-you to hold me. F-for a while!" You moaned. He leaned down, angling himself into your cervix, "Me too, pretty girl♡ lemme make that up to you."
Picking away at your cervix at an alarming speed, you couldn't catch your breath. “Shit!” You groaned. Feeling his Galla slap your clit in a wet manner. You arched instinctively into him, whining and moaning. He smirked against your neck, “That feel good? Yeah?” It was hot and your face felt like it was on fire. There was a knock but you two ignored it. Too content in the way he fucked your cervix. A coil built in your stomach making you stutter, “C-ah! Cumming!”
That hot coil burst and you came. He groaned a, “Good fucking girl.” And came right after. You two pushed against each other in ecstasy. Eyes rolled back and panting like dogs. He decorated you in more kisses and praise, still coming down from his own. Yeah, he definitely has to do that again. This time a but more gentler. He was living with the view of you on your stomach, sweat glistening and cunt plugged with his cock. “Shit, gotta get you cleaned up at least.” he said hopping off the bed.
“How the fuck?” You whispered, “Are you moving around!?”
You slowly got up to look at him walking around like an hour of your life didn’t just get sucked out of you. Hair fucked up, lips swollen, eyes puffy, and body barely even keeping you up. Daisuke turned around, “Pink or Blue towel and because I haven’t had sex since I was like eighteen man. I’m pretty fit out, stamina unmatched.”
“That isn’t how that goes jackass! Look at me!” You uttered pointing half-assed at yourself. Daisuke giggled, “Just say you couldn’t take it.”
You threw his pillow at his face, a goofy grin in your face, “I’m not too tired to fuck you up!” He dodged it moving out the way of the pillow, letting it hit the dresser, “Too tired to take the time to aim?”
“Give me the blue one.” You sighed in defeat. You could feel his dumbass staring at you. “If you’re laughing I’ll kill you.” You claimed. Daisuke chuckled, “Sure pretty. Now! Open up, lemme clean you.”
The Next Day
It was breakfast, awfully quiet you could only hear the food being cooked on the stove. You two were sitting at the table. Rubbing your necks and pulling your clothes up against the scars of your previous night. Jimmy was sitting by Swansea with a face of shock and disappointment, while Swansea was relaxed and had a content smile. Curly and Anya on the other hand were in silence, faces blushed pink and red. They weren’t keen on staying near the two of you so the kitchen was their safe suit. Daisuke cleared his throat with a tiny cough prompting eyes to look at him.
The silence was hesitantly broken by a loud clap. Anya jumped, calming down once she realized it was Swansea. Swansea clapped four good times, laughing afterwards. Jimmy stared at him out the corner of his eye, he scoffed, “I need more coffee… and a cigarette too.” He grumbled, getting up and leaving to the kitchen with the other two. Swansea still laughing, shrugged it off, “Ah, screw you, you middle aged bastard.”
Daisuke stuttered, “Did we- do something?”
You whispered, “oh my god.” Swansea took that as an invitation, “Explain, did something son?”
Daisuke sheepishly looked at you then at the floor with a shade of red dusting his face, “Not coming to work on time?”
“No! Absolutely not! These metal walls aren’t made of sound canceling materials you sick pieces of shit! You don’t think we could hear you two!? Like rabbits!? Disgusting behavior!” Jimmy yelled. You quietly looked away, holding your head in your hands, embarrassed. Daisuke sighed, “You’re mad I got pussy and you don’t?”
“Daisuke!” Curly gasped, even Anya didn’t expect it, a face of shock and pure horror. Jimmy snapped, running towards the space and yelling, “No one wants to hear that!”
Swansea was having a ball. The best piece of entertainment he’ll ever get in a life time, “Tell me Y/N! Was he a good kisser?”
You covered your neck instinctively, hearing Swansea laugh louder. Daisuke on the other hand was down talking Jimmy for not being like him. He was beaming with joy and owning up to what he did. “You’re mad she loves me!” Daisuke retorted. Then he gave you a smug look, “And this di-“
“DAISUKE!” everyone including you yelled. He threw his hands up with a, “Am I wrong!?”
Fin.
A/N; I enjoyed writing this! Sucky ass Internet I fucking hate it here, but don’t worry, I will be here!
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natimiles · 3 days ago
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My Calm (Rafayel x reader)
Summary: When you can’t sleep, running your fingers through your boyfriend’s hair might be the solution.
Words: 677
Tags: fluffy; established relationship; way more self indulgent than I’m willing to admit.
Notas: I struggled a little with the translation because I wanted everything to sound exactly the same. But after a while, I realized that wasn’t realistic, and things started flowing more smoothly. Still, I cursed myself a lot while translating and felt like I was back in school, translating texts for English class. That said, I’ll definitely do this again in the future, HUOASEHUSAEHUOA. Well, I love the idea of playing with Rafayel’s hair until I fall asleep because I love drifting off that way 🤍
PT-BR | English
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The room would be completely dark if not for the moonlight streaming through the large windows. The sea breeze gently sways the curtains, and if you close your eyes, you can hear the sound of the waves crashing onto the shore. Lying on your back, you turn your head to the side, watching Rafayel breathe deeply. His long — and enviable — lashes rest against his cheekbones with his eyes closed as he sleeps. The naturally soft scent that lingers around him is usually enough to help you fall asleep, but tonight, something feels different.
Swallowing your sigh to not make any sound, you turn your face back to the ceiling, staring at the night sky through the glass roof again. You’ve already tried everything to fall asleep, but nothing seems to work. Honestly, you’ve already tossed and turned so much that you don’t even know how you haven’t woken up the man beside you yet.
As if on cue, Rafayel murmurs something, and you hold your breath for a few seconds, thinking you’ve woken him up; but he only turns around and continues sleeping. Glancing at him from the corner of your eye, you notice that he now has his back turned to you. The wavy, lavender-colored hair is sticking out in all directions, and your hand almost reaches out to smooth it back down, but you hold yourself back.
That would definitely wake him up!
...Probably.
Petting Rafayel’s hair is something you never tire of doing, and that never fails to calm you down.
If you’re calm and discreet...
Then maybe…
Biting your bottom lip, you turn as slowly and subtly as possible. Your right hand settles under the pillow, while your left one reaches for the lavender locks. A smile forms on your lips instantly and you sigh softly in relief. It’s as if, suddenly, everything is finally in place and making sense.
Without even realizing it, your body moves and gets closer to him. The warmth of Rafayel’s body brings you peace, the scent of shampoo that exudes from his hair calms you, and the soft touch of his locks against your fingertips makes you even more relaxed.
The moonlight helps you observe the soft strands as they pass through your hand, gliding easily between your fingers. The way you gently wind them around your index finger, feeling the texture; the way it comes loose in a curl that almost completely falls apart soon after — and if you keep doing that for long enough, you know the curl will stay there.
The motion is hypnotizing. It draws your attention while making your eyelids grow heavier with each passing second. The sound of the sea fades further into the background, the breeze becomes more and more imperceptible, and your breathing steadies. The room gradually darkens more and more, until complete darkness settles in as your eyes close and don’t open again. Your fingers slowly come to a stop, still tangled in the soft hair of your beloved.
In front of you, Rafayel struggles to remain calm. He woke up when he felt something moving in his hair and was ready to make a comment about it when he heard your sigh of contentment. Anything he had thought to say died right there. The Lemurian closed his mouth and stayed as still as possible, pretending to still be asleep, while he enjoyed your gentle touches. His cheeks grew warmer and redder, his heart racing and warming up, a smile forming on his lips. Just the thought that he brings you this feeling of love and peace as much as you bring to him makes him happier than you could ever imagine.
He loves being loved by you and knowing that you rely on him even when he’s asleep and has no idea he’s helping you — it fills him with pride.
The only problem with all of this is: how is he supposed to go back to sleep now, with his heart racing like this?
Maybe if he turns slowly and runs his fingers through your hair too...
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Taglist: @william-rex @candiedcoffeedrops @valkyyriia
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jscrawls · 1 day ago
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Grave mistakes
Gotham City is full of a lot of characters, criminals, creepy clowns, man eating plants, eccentric billionaires. But all that rolled into one household?
Warning: contains mentions of blood, witchcraft, dead people, fire, ghosts, general spooky stuff, it's an Addams reader they're gonna be freaky,
Part 3: best served cold
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Dick is a very busy man, between patrolling bludhaven all by his lonesome, the multiple hero teams he regularly teams up with, and trying to manage a job and just the smallest modicum of a social life. in short, dick doesn’t have free time.
so it was odd to him when bruce called him up one day out of the blue and asked him to come over for a visit, no cases or mysteries, no asking him to fill in for him for whatever reason, just a visit and a chat. dick wondered if the older man had something terminal he was gonna drop on him.
“so what’s this all about, afternoon teatime and a chat?” dick asks sardonically as he leans forward and interlocks his fingers on the island counter, two glasses of lemonade, courtesy of alfred, between them.
“i just felt like chatting, i haven’t seen much of you lately.” bruce leans back in his chair as he regards dick, there’s a tension in his shoulders that dick is painfully familiar with. he wants to sigh, the old mans got something on his mind.
“i’ve been busy, B. is everything alright? lets cut the fluff.” dicks fingers drum the countertop, he doesn’t mean to be so impatient but sometimes he can’t help it with the family, he feels like they’re codependent on him like little kids.
bruce meets his eye, his jaw flexes and for a second dick thinks he’s about to get snappy. bruce sighs and drops his arms, dick feels anxiety prickle in his chest, maybe something is actually wrong with the old man?
“…..there’s a new neighbor next door.” dick blinks dumbly, he called him all the way from bludhaven to gossip about his neighbor? maybe the old man is finally living his grouchy old neighbor best self, he just needs his bifocals and slippers and maybe a crossword in front of him. “you coud’ve just texted me if you wanted to complain about new people, what are the moving trucks too loud? are they trying to start an HOA?”
Bruce looks unamused and Dick rolls his eyes, he won't even fake laugh for him.
“They're strange, really strange.” Bruce mutters as he leans forward to grab his drink, giving Dick a stern look when he looks like he's going to laugh at him.
“how strange we talking? Normal Gotham weird or Eldritch multidimensional horror weird.” “Normal Gotham weird is a little too close to Eldritch multidimensional weird, Dick. That's not a great comparison.” Bruce challenges with a raised brow, scratching at his jaw stubble as they have another stare down.
“…why am I here B.” Dick sighs as he looks away, he knows why, he just wants the old man to ask nicely. That'd be appreciated.
After he looks away Bruce relaxes a little, he feels a little bad to drag Dick all the way here for this, but he's the best man he can picture for when he has in mind. “…I was invited to meet the neighbor later, dinner at their home. I need you to come with me.”
Dick grimaces at that, not even a ‘please?’ rude.
“And…? You want me to snoop through some rich people junk, Honeypot them while you snoop, what's the details here.” Dick wants to bang his head on the counter, of course it's work. He just hopes he doesn't end up in something crazy tonight.
“you're the distraction, hopefully. I don't think they've had time to install cameras in that safety hazard of a house yet, so no tapping unfortunately.” Bruce goes into mission mode, speaking clinically as ever about doing something unhinged. Dick again drums his fingers against the counter as he replies. “You can't spy on your neighbor's private property? How annoying.”
“are you going to do it or not.”
Something between irritation and resignation twists behind dick's ribs, he hates when he pulls rank on him and starts with that particular tone. “…..I didn't bring clothes for a dinner with me.”
“you know I have something somewhere, get ready in an hour and we'll drive over.”
“thank you Dick, you're sooo kind to drop everything to come help me on such short notice” Dick mumbles sarcastically as he pushes away from the island counter, lemonade in hand. He's getting ready in his old room before he snaps at the old man.
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First noticable thing, the place is clearly in need of some major repairs. second thing, someone's been gardening in the front, Though it seems they missed all of the weeds and thorny brambles.
Bruce gives dick a look when he reaches out to pull a leaf off a briar bordering the path up to the porch, he doesn't miss the eye roll he gets in return as they both dodge grabby plants. Dick shoves his hands in the pockets of his borrowed dark jacket to avoid picking at anymore things. Bruce bites his cheek when he notices the irritated tense in the slope of his shoulders.
Stepping up on the stoop, Bruce reaches over to ring the doorbell, it doesn't work. He'd assume the wiring just rusted out if he couldn't blatantly see the freshly cut power cord under the button, how friendly looking.
With no other choice he knocks, silence, he knocks again, more silence. Him and Dick exchange a look.
“you sure they said tonight? Might not be home.” “Obviously I'm sure, let's try-” the door quickly swings open.
“Hello there my new friend, you must be Mr Bruce Wade. Lovely to meet you! Oh and your companion as well!”
They're friendly sounding, but they're dressed like they're about to attend a devil's sacrament. Bruce knows more than anyone that looks can be deceiving but…. Well Alfred said they're quite a lot to take in.
“yes hi, nice to meet you too! Thank you so much for having me over like this, this is my boy Richard, hope you don't mind the extra guest…” he puts on a charming smile as he offers a handshake, one that's gotten him out of a lot of situations before. It's Brucie Wayne time.
Dick also offers a handshake, a big grin on his face as he eyes them up a little, he's already laying some groundwork as he squeezes their hand. “Nice to meet you, please just call me dick. Bruce Wade and everyone else does.”
Bruce's smile twitches but remains in place, he knows dick's in a mood so he'll take anything he throws at him this evening. Hopefully things go well and that's all that'll be tossed.
“Very well Dick, please come in both of you. Dinners on the stove and I've got tea brewing, come now!” The neighbor ushers them in, that seemed weirdly easy considering they just met.
Both men step inside and close the door behind them, the interior of the house is….. Matching the exterior. Water damage everywhere, possibly from a damaged roof or leaking pipes, peeling wallpaper, rotten out carpets, this place doesn't seem suitable for human living. Bruce glances at Dick, who glances back.
The living room is a whole other story.
“Take a seat, make yourselves uncomfortable while I bring out some drink.” The neighbor gestures to the couch and then energetically strolls out of the room, that thing looks like a tetanus trap. The decorations in the room are more concerning in Bruce's mind.
“…good thing we're up to date on our shots.” Bruce hears Dick mutter under his breath, he bumps him with his elbow and steps around the coffin being used as a coffee table, it looks real.
Once they both carefully settle on the threadbare couch they glance around casually, that's definitely an alter across the room, candles and incense burners are lit on a stand, various artifacts are arranged in a strategic pattern and it looks like there's a vial of something dark sitting in the middle? Possibly blood. The hair on the back of Bruce's neck stands up.
“Bruce, on the right…” Dick murmurs quietly, when Bruce glances over he's greeted by the sight of a damn noose hanging from the neck of a taxidermied moose head, an almost impressive entomology taxidermy case hangs below the macabre sight. Bruce isn't sure if he should be worried about the new neighbor or pull a weapon out.
Before they can find more disturbing things to gawk at, the neighbor returns. Silver colored tray in hand while they carry a hot kettle in the other.
“Apologies for the wait, my dear friends, I'm still sorting out my kitchen.” They set the tray down on the coffin and take a seat in an armchair across from them.
Bruce just smiles at them and shrugs a shoulder carelessly. “It's no problem at all.”
Dick pointedly glances around and then gives them a charming smirk, leaning back and spreading his knees just slightly. “No bother to me, you've got an interesting place here, real unique.”
Bruce has to fight off the twitch in his neck, he asked for this but it's still weird to see his boy act like that sometimes. He tries not to think about how many times dick saw him flirting growing up.
The new neighbor smiles and leans forward to pour some tea for everyone, they put a pinch of sugar in theirs and immediately start to drink the still clearly hot liquid seemingly without care.
“Thank you! Many family heirlooms in here, I believe the spirits like my collections.”
Dick picks up his cup and stirs the hot liquid with his finger with only a slight grimace, Bruce is relieved the clear nail polish he's wearing doesn't change color. “Well i do too, big fan of all your dead things.” Dick sounds playful, trying to prompt a back and forth and build a rapport.
“Mm, you're sweet, dear old Dolores has been quiet in there for a few generations, otherwise I'm sure she'd thank you.” They casually bump the coffin with their foot, a very long silence followed that statement.
“……okay. Yeah okay that's a…shame…?” Dick fumbles for words, he quickly sets his teacup down.
Bruce quietly clears his throat and dumps a spoonful of sugar in it before he takes a sip of his tea, trying to get over that casual statement while dread curls it's way down his spine. He nearly spits his drink out and chokes a little at the taste. “Wha-is this salt?” Did they mix containers in the kitchen? It tastes disgusting.
“Yes, do you like? It's my grandmamas favorite way to take it.”
“….. It's very stand out.” Bruce isn't sure if he wants to make himself drink it just to be polite, this person needs an evaluation at Arkham or something.
Dick interjects quickly. “So, can I ask a little about yourself? How'd you wind up in Gotham of all places?”
“I was suddenly on the market after a little fire incident, I saw this little gem was Going to be demolished and I just instantly fell in love with the place, the views out the back are to die for.”
If Bruce remembers correctly there's a graveyard and a swamp in the backyard.
“Can I ask about the fire incident?” Dick leans forward and puts his elbows on his knees, fingers interlocked as he smiles at them.
They sigh wistfully and take a sip of their hot beverage, for a moment both men think it's a sensitive topic before they answer.
“It's a beautifully tragic story, my ancestral home was broken into and defaced by an angry mob. The people in it accused me of witchcraft and thought I'd been mind controlling the mayor. I tried to explain that I hadn't done anything like that since my college days but they weren't satisfied, things took an interesting turn and next thing I know my home went up in a glorious blazing pyre while I watched.”
Bruce isn't sure what part to focus first, judging by dicks expression neither does he. “…. Sorry to hear about your home.” Bruce says carefully, does he even have to sneak off and go through any of their belongings with how openly crazy they are?
“Yeah, sounds rough. You look like you came out on top though, at least you're alive?”
“Please, don't remind me.”
Another silence fills the room, Bruce looks at Dick who's staring at them with a slight furrow in his brow, are they okay?…
“Anywho, we've just talked about me, please tell me about yourselves. Your boy said you were on Jersey shore, Mr Wade?”
Bruce is caught off guard by that, that's such a random thing to ask “I've never been on-” a timer goes off somewhere in the house.
“Oh, suppers ready! Please come with me I'll show you the dining room, there's a very interesting story about the centerpiece…”
They stand up and grab at both Bruce and dick's arms, energetically pulling them up and out of the room. Just what have they walked into?
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M.List | prev | next
A/n: this chapter got away from me a bit, it's longer than I thought 🤔 Bruce and Dick met the reader! They've got thoughts.
Taglist: @lunarapple
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cookierunoutofideas · 18 hours ago
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Just Make More Dragons (Longan Dragon Cookie/Fem! Reader) [SMUT]
“I mean, if you want the age of dragons to return, shouldn’t you just... I dunno, make more dragons or something?”
“Are you volunteering?”
Warnings: no beta we die like elder faerie, smut, PWP, probably out of character, probably not all that well written, neutral pronouns for Longan Dragon Cookie, oviposition, breeding, mating, double dicks, Longan Dragon has some sort of aphrodisiac pheromones that I honestly don't care to explain I just wanted to use the fact that longan fruit apparently smells sweet and is used for relaxation–
Read at your own risk!
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“I mean, if you want the age of dragons to return, shouldn’t you just... I dunno, make more dragons or something?”
“Are you volunteering?”
Maybe you didn’t think it through before opening your mouth, but, then again, it’s hard to think when Longan Dragon Cookie is looming over you, eyes piercing yours for daring to direct your pathetic cookie voice their direction.
Honestly, not a single part of your current situation makes thinking an easy task. Out of all cookies and out of all places, it shouldn’t be you standing in the lair of the Ivory Dragon. Even if it was originally your idea to do something to distract the guy so the others could regroup and plan the next step to prevent the extinction of all cookie kind, you didn’t mean it had to be leaving you behind! It’s all Pitaya’s fault for throwing you at the pissed white dragon and leaving to lick their wounds somewhere, when you get your hands on that damn lizard-
“You haven’t answered, weak one.”
“I... I mean...” you stammer, taking a shaky step back, but they follow without much effort because, again, Longan Dragon is so damn tall.
You repeat that clumsy dance a few more times, quickly, eyes anywhere but the dragon. While you’re thankful they haven’t killed you yet, you’d rather not test your luck by sticking too close. Though it seems they don’t get the memo, meeting every step with one of their own, an oppressive waltz that ends with you against a hard wall.
“I wouldn’t dare suggest that! I’m just a lowly cookie!” you frantically wave your hands, fear running through your dough. Maybe if you act humble enough, they won’t crumble you for another few hours.
Damn it, Ginger Brave and gang, come faster!
Longan Dragon shortens the distance between you two, forcing you to lean your head back as much as you can to avoid touching their chest with your forehead.
Oh, they smell oddly sweet.
What a rich scent.
And their hands are so big, sharing their warmth—so far, all dragons you’ve met are pretty warm, must be a dragon thing—with your cheeks as they lift your face.
The sweet smell of fruit envelops you, relaxing your muscles without your permission. Not that you’re trying to fight the sudden wave of calm that hits you, no, you’re greedily breathing in all sensations, even the sensation of a much larger body pressing you against the wall, the difference in temperatures on your front and back making your breath hitch. It’s been so long since you’ve felt anything but tension pressing down your back that the small respite brings too much relief to your body and soul.
Then a thumb presses on your lower lip and you remember just where you are. And with who.
You open your eyes with a loud gasp, trying to free your body—and fuzzy mind—from the Ivory Dragon’s claws, but they don’t budge. No, they seem pleased.
“What...” you swallow saliva you hadn’t even noticed filling your mouth. “... are you doing?”
“A mate presents so willingly to be bred,” the dragon purrs—literally, you can feel the vibrations, “and responds to me so eagerly, what is this one to do other than claim them?”
Whatever happens between that low growl and your back meeting soft silken sheets simply doesn’t register in your memory. After all, the sweet scent filling your nose and the maddening kiss stealing your breath make remembering anything else difficult.
Longan Dragon Cookie’s body is hot and heavy on yours, their tongue insistent and their hands adventurous. Gone is the quiet intensity that made the Ivory Dragon a suffocating yet majestic presence, in its place is fervour you simply can’t comprehend, urgency and hunger and desire and want and need—oh, you can’t help but tug at their ivory strands, making them as messy as the kisses you two share. They growl, animalistic, finally acting like one would expect a dragon, instinct guiding them into manhandling you until your clothes are ripped off, exposed—offered to them.
You don’t bother to muffle your voice as sharp teeth finds the soft dough around your nipples. The dragon seems to like that, too, making sure to bite and suck and lick whatever place gives them the louder, needier noises. They move down your body, giving special attention to your navel, to where your womb rests, marking you with claws and fangs. Your vagina pulsates when they look up at you, locking eyes as they lick, long and slow, up the valley of your breasts. It’s so hypnotizing that you barely notice the sharp claws rubbing against your clit and folds, the danger making your toes tingle.
“This-” you gasp, pulling at their long hair—beautiful, like all of the dragon. “Keep... keep them outta me...”
“Do you think me foolish to risk hurt the one who’ll carry my eggs?”
“Eggs?!”
And the bastard only chuckles! A deep, rich sound that comes from the depths of their lungs, a sound no one ever thought the Ivory Dragon capable of. Feeling annoyed, you quickly hoist yourself up and do the unthinkable: you sink your teeth on the Ivory Dragon’s neck, completely forgetting that a dragon’s dough is much more resistant than a normal cookie’s. You can barely move your jaw, your tongue touching the smooth scales curiously.
Longan Dragon Cookie pulls you away from their neck with one harsh tug to the back of your neck, and for a second you fear that you’ve finally crossed the line and won’t see the next sunrise... but then they purr—or growl? Hard to tell—and oh.
They smile, predatory and pleased.
“A weak little cookie won’t be able to mark my scales, little mate,” they rumble, shuffling a bit until their robes fall off their shoulders. “But go ahead and try still.”
They bring you to another kiss with the hand on your neck, thrusting their hips on your unclothed pussy, allowing you to feel what awaits.
There’s two of them, your brain figures, there’s no way that bulge is only one dick.
There absolutely is two of them.
You watch as the rest of their robes fall off their body. It is like watching the most wondrous sculpture be revealed, like the ultimate piece of art finally leaves its artist’s studio to grace the world with its existence. Here is a being no one could ever dare deny their beauty, doing so would be to boldly lie to an omniscient god’s face.
And there are two dicks standing proudly, already leaking at the anticipation of  tearing you apart.
Because that’s what going to happen, you’re sure. The one on the top is thicker while the one bellow is thinner, but they’re both far too much for a little normal cookie such as you. Longan Dragon Cookie, however, seems to care not—in fact, they seem to simply believe you can take it, take all they give you... which may or may not include eggs. Eggs.
“Wait!” you yelp, pulling at their hair, undoing whatever held it up and out of their way. To your surprise, Longan Dragon does listen, halting their clawed attack at your hips. “You- this- won’t fit!”
“They shall,” they simply answer, pressing another kiss to your navel before finally giving your wet folds—when did you get so wet?—their attention. “I shall make them.”
One long lick to your folds stops whatever protests you still have, instead freeing a long moan. Oh, their tongue is forked. Of course it is, they are a dragon, dragons have forked tongues, why wouldn’t the Ivory Dragon have a forked tongue—and why wouldn’t the Ivory Dragon be so good at using it?
Keeping their words, the claws stay away from you sensitive genitalia, instead drawing scratch lines one your thighs, some even painted blood red. The pain stings just enough to add to the pleasure the tongue stretching and exploring you gives. Giving up any sort of hesitance, you give in to your odd situation, enjoying with abandon the dragon’s ministrations until the knot built inside your tummy snaps and you cum the hardest you’ve ever done, pulling at ivory hair and squeezing a beautiful face between your legs.
Though despite that incredible orgasm, you still don’t feel satiated.
No, part of you still feels empty, craving more of the sweetness coming from your... your lover? No, what was it the dragon called you earlier—mate. Your mate.
As if feeling your desire, Longan Dragon Cookie crawls over your body, still licking their lips and chin to savour every drop of your juices, resting on top of you like a giant, warm cover. Strong arms hold you against a hard chest, prompting you to brace your arms around their neck and sink your nails on their back—thankfully, the scales don’t cover their cookie form completely, so you actually have a chance of scratching them, marking them.
If you could purr at that thought, you would.
Instead, you gasp as a fat cockhead pokes your entrance. Longan Dragon Cookie isn’t exactly gentle—the many bleeding marks all over your body show that pretty well—but they’re considerate enough to stop and wait every time you show signs of pain. Once the thicker cock is inside, they start moving in slow, deliberate circles, still holding you to their chest, giving you no chance to escape the addicting scent of their dough.
Not that you want to.
No, you want to drown in it. You want to be covered in that scent, suffocated in it, buried within it.
The stretch of the second penis entering you makes you whimper, but you can’t tell if it is from pain or pleasure—nor do you care, really. Not when your mate rocks the both of you steadily, thrusts slow but hard, resolute, hitting every spot that makes your toes curl and eyes roll back, kissing the entrance of your womb. It’s so hot, it’s too hot and you want more more more more!
“As you wish, little mate” the dragon growls in your ear, the breathlessness of their voice causing shivers to run down your back. “I will breed you round.”
Let no one ever say the Ivory Dragon doesn’t keep their word.
You whine your agreement, pleading for whatever they will give you. Something inside you had snapped into place earlier; suddenly, you are exactly where you should be, exactly with who you should be. Nothing else comes to mind but the one making you feel so good, taking you as theirs, giving you themselves. You turn your head in hopes to get a kiss and, much to your pleasure, you get exactly what you wanted. Longan Dragon Cookie is such a good mate, providing everything their mate wants without delay or confusion.
A good mate who’ll take care of your hatchlings—
Hatchligns.
Eggs!
Holy shit, Longan Dragon Cookie, the Ivory Dragon, is going to fuck eggs into you!
“Please...!” you beg, not sure what for.
Now, would carrying the eggs of your mate be so bad?
No, you figure as another orgasm washes over you, it wouldn’t.
An ever louder growl-purr answers your begging, claws mimicking the scratches left on a ivory back. Your mate starts thrusting faster, harder, deeper, as if trying to force your uterus to open to their cocks—no, not “as if”, that is what they will do. For the sake of your first clutch.
Your first clutch.
The thought alone triggers another orgasm and you repeat the earlier bite to Longan’s neck, not caring that your cookie teeth won’t pierce a mighty dragon’s scales. No, you must mark your mate however you can, no matter how difficult.
That is the limit for the dragon as they roar, shoving their cockhead into your womb with one last hard thrust.
You feel so damn full.
It is amazing.
There is nothing left in the world but you, your mate and where you two connect to become two. You scream to match their roaring, wild harmony ending in a passionate kiss.
Then you feel it. Something round travelling down their thicker cock, stretching you even more. A weak moan slips past your lips only to be greedily devoured by the dragon. The round thing must be about the side of your closed fist, maybe a bit smaller. The journey is slow, a sweet torture you endure in between the arms of your mate. When you dare open your eyes to look at them, your breath gets stolen by the sight of their pupils blown wide, eating away everything else. A forked tongue licks away your tears and sweat, the purring intensifying when you give their face your own, much shyer, licks.
Finally, the eggs pops inside your womb, getting comfortable in the empty space. The second cock gushes out a warm liquid; to fertilize the eggs, no doubt. Then another egg starts the journey. And another. And another. The first one arriving safely seems to have opened the gates as the others now rush to join their sibling. Another world shattering orgasm hits you when a particularly big egg presses your inner walls.
Ten eggs. You now carry ten eggs from the Ivory Dragon. Your belly looks round like a normal pregnancy. The cum inside you keeps you warm. So does the arms wrapped around you and the chest you nuzzle. You fall asleep, content and full, not a care in the world. Nothing can bother this serene moment with your mate.
A loud noise wakes you up hours later, and you recognize the voices of GingerBrave and the other cookies.
Ah.
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swearimnevergivingup · 2 months ago
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so uh i'm thinking about ex-boyfriend!nanami. you broke up with him 3 years ago but he's never been able to move on. he's tried everything. everything under the sun, and none of it has ever worked.
he isn't even sure if forgetting you is what he wants. he thinks he wants to let you live in the spot carved out for you in his heart, whether that hurts him or not.
and when you run into him in the lobby of your apartment building? one thing leads to another and you find yourself splayed out on the couch obscenely, the oversized shirt you were wearing hiked up to your waist as you slowly part your legs for him.
the world blurs around you.
all you can think about is this very moment.
the significance of what you’re doing is entirely palpable to you. you’re inviting him in, not just to your house, but into your heart again. 
breathing heavily, your eyes follow his every movement in anticipation as his fingers dance across your inner thighs.
his hands slip underneath the waistband of your panties, two fingers sliding in between your slick folds. you tense a little at the sensation as he parts them, the rough pads of his fingers prodding the sensitive bud of nerves that makes you shiver and whine.
“god,” he groans. “i’ve fucking missed this pussy.”
you let out a little laugh at the foul language that slips from his tongue. it’s been so long since you’ve heard his voice, and even longer since you’ve felt his touch.
“missed your cock too, kento,” you murmur, eager to show that you’ve been equally longing for him, if not more. you want to hear more of him, so you reach your hand out to palm at his erection. he’s rock hard, and there’s a little wet spot on his pants from the precum.
“fuck,” he mutters, tilting his head back. “it’s been a while.”
you giggle at that, a little woozy from the wine. “it’s been a while for me too.”
“n-no, you don’t understand,” his grip on your hips tightens as he struggles to maintain his composure. “you were the last.”
oh.
your eyes widen at that revelation, stopping your movements to fully look at him. “w-why haven’t you—”
for the second time tonight, you find yourself in complete disbelief. you were the last person he slept with? that had been more than 2 years ago - way more than enough time for things to change, for someone else to come along.
but then again, nanami’s always been a serious man, and by extension, that applied to his love life too. never one to seek out casual hookups, that man dated to marry. 
“i didn’t want anyone else. only you,” he murmurs. “that hasn’t changed.”
your heart is not the only thing that clenches at the raw sincerity in his voice. 
“say it again,” you whisper. “i want— i want to hear you say it again.”
“i only want you.” nanami must have realised how much you needed to hear that, the same way he had needed your confirmation earlier, because his voice is more resolute this time. “and this—” his hand moves to cup yours, guiding your movements as he slowly drags your hand over his cock. “s’all for you, sweetheart.”
one hand reaches for the back of your neck, holding you tenderly as he peppers kisses on your lips and all over your neck.
the other hand, though, moves deviously between your thighs, a singular digit plunging into your soaked cunt. 
nanami relishes the way you gasp into his mouth, back arching off the couch as all sorts of pretty sounds drip from your flushed lips.
i love you.
i still love you, after all this time.
he doesn’t say it out loud - no, it isn’t the right time. 
but he repeats it loudly enough inside his head, hoping that somehow, you might hear it too. 
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a/n: this is part of my upcoming work: i never moved from where you left me (nsfw)
there are apologies to be made, lost time to reclaim, and parts of each other waiting to be rediscovered. and yet, you know him like an old song. you know the words, carved into the lining of your skin, you know its melody, a soft hum that echoes in the chambers of your heart. nanami kento is that lingering rhythm, that pained harmony, existing deep within the cracks of memory and longing - an unfading symphony in your soul.
comment if you would like to be tagged! <3
edit: some snippets here! taglist closed :)
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wonustars · 1 year ago
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my reaction through out reading the epilogue was like:
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went from happy to sad really quick because i realized this was the end and then happy again cuz i was like “she got her happy ending” 🥹😭😭😭😭🤕💕
AQUAMARINE: EPILOGUE
April Showers (M)
Dedication: For my girls, who like like their men secure and obsessed.
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JEON WONWOO X READER
WORDS: 14k+
GENRE: ARRANGE CONTRACT MARRIAGE AU! ENEMIES TO LOVERS!
FLUFF!FLUFF!AND SMUT (I THINK WE HAD ENOUGH ANGST FOR 8 CHAPTERS)
A/N: So, I guess this is it huh? well Happy Reading!!
4 years ago Zurich, Switzerland KIU
Y/N entered the lecture room, a spacious gallery-style classroom with long wooden benches and rows of paintings adorning the walls. The large windows bathed the room in natural light, and it felt more like an art gallery than a typical lecture hall. She quietly pushed the door open and entered, the soft creak of the hinges barely audible over the lecturer's voice.
The professor at the front of the room, Jeonghan, continued with his lecture on the definition of meaning during the Enlightenment era. He stood confidently in front of the class, with a relaxed yet engaging demeanour. His dark hair was neatly styled, and his glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, giving him an air of intelligence.
As Y/N found a seat at the back of the room and settled in, her eyes met Jeonghan's for a brief moment. There was a flash of recognition, but he didn't let it disrupt the flow of his lecture. With a warm smile and a nod, he acknowledged her presence before returning to his discourse.
"During the Enlightenment," he began, his voice both soothing and authoritative, "philosophers like Voltaire and Rousseau grappled with the concept of meaning. What does it mean to lead a meaningful life? Is it found in the pursuit of knowledge, happiness, or something more profound?"
The students listened intently as Jeonghan paced gracefully across the front of the room. His words were thought-provoking, encouraging his students to consider the philosophical inquiries of the past and apply them to their own lives.
Y/N couldn't help but be captivated by his lecture, not only because of the subject matter but also because of the way he presented it. She had known Jeonghan for years, and seeing him in his element was both familiar and awe-inspiring.
He continued, "Voltaire famously stated, 'Judge a man by his questions rather than his answers.' This is a profound notion because it encourages us to continuously seek understanding. In an era marked by intellectual growth, philosophers challenged the status quo and sought to unravel the mysteries of existence."
The students absorbed the wisdom he shared, their eyes reflecting the curiosity sparked by his teaching.
Jeonghan, with his usual eloquence, continued his lecture, delving into the void that exists within humanity, a craving for meaning that often goes unnoticed. He cited Nietzsche's concept of this void, the insatiable longing for purpose that some fill immediately with their surroundings and become fervent devotees of a cause, never realizing the hollowness they've concealed. "The process of discovering that void for the first time," he explained, "is a pivotal moment in our lives. It's when we come to the stark realization that something is lacking in that department."
As he spoke, Jeonghan gestured passionately, his words resonating with the students. "Albert Camus presents us with an ultimate example of struggle and suffering, only to have our efforts amount to nothing. This is a metaphor for life, for Camus. We exist in a vast, inconceivably large, and complex universe, and with every step we take, we're battling against a tidal wave of forces that could end our existence at any moment."
He paced back and forth at the front of the class, emphasizing the challenges of human existence. "We live through good times and endure bad ones, all while accepting the reality that the universe, in all its grandeur, couldn't care less about our individual actions. It's true that in a humanistic lens, what we do matters within the microcosm of our lives, but on the universal scale, we're a mere speck on an ordinary galaxy. The sun will eventually explode in 5 billion years, and our existence will come to a definitive end."
Jeonghan's eyes scanned the room, and he implored his students to consider the meaning of all their suffering, effort, and sacrifice. "Where does it all lead? At the end of the day, we're like Sisyphus, condemned to push the rock up the hill only for it to roll back down, forcing us to begin again. But in our condemnation, we should strive not to agonize over the process but to find enjoyment in the act of pushing the boulder as far as we can."
He paused, his gaze intense, and then continued. "The experience and reflection come into play. What we're reflecting upon may appear meaningless to outsiders, but when we are experiencing it, it means the world. Yet, at what point do we realize it's all meaningless? It's the moment we stop being present, take a step back, and question why we're doing this in the first place. We look around and condemn it all as meaningless. This is where the concept of meaning comes into play."
Jeonghan raised a finger, emphasizing the contrast between reflection and lived experience. "When we reflect, we stop doing whatever we're engaged in, and we use our capacity for reason to ask questions. But it's important to recognize how presumptuous this entire process is. We apply this tool of reason to the universe, attempting to derive conclusions, yet what if the reason isn't the right tool for the job?"
He took a deep breath before continuing. "Reflections and reason, as human capacities, may not be the right tools to determine the meaning or meaninglessness of the things we do. What if, instead, we focus on the task at hand, to immerse ourselves fully in what we care about? Reflection is valuable, and a necessary part of life, but it can lead to diminishing returns. If you reflect too much, the only thing it'll do is deteriorate the quality of your lived experience."
As the lecture neared its conclusion, Jeonghan's eyes sparkled with a sense of purpose and resolution. "Embrace the absurdity of the universe, and then immerse yourself fully in the tasks you care about. Just like Sisyphus, who made the rock his own, we should learn to love what we do. Appreciate the grooves in the rock, the hindrances in your path, and the patterns to success. Love what you're doing without constantly pondering if it will have any meaning. After all, if the ultimate doom is inevitable, if everything will cease to exist, why not live and die doing what you love and believe in? Enjoy every moment of pushing your own boulder, and do it with passion and determination."
With a final nod and a warm smile, Jeonghan concluded his lecture on the meaning of life during the Enlightenment era.
As the students packed their bags, Jeonghan left them with a parting comment. "Remember, class, your term papers are due at the end of this week. And my sincere condolences to any grandparents, uncles, and aunts who are going to meet their end at 11:59 on the 29th."
The room filled with a mixture of laughter and groans, the students either appreciating Jeonghan's dark humor or dreading the impending deadline. Y/n gathered her belongings, slinging her purse over her shoulder, and made her way down to Jeonghan's desk.
"That was impressive, Dr. Yoon," she complimented him with a warm smile.
"Thank you, but what brings you here?" Jeonghan inquired.
"Oh, the dean just invited me to give a speech for the department," Y/n explained. "Our company is going to join one of the on-campus recruiting events, so I thought I'd see what you've been up to."
Jeonghan nodded in understanding. "Ah, that sounds interesting. Want to catch up over lunch?"
Y/n's laughter rang through the classroom. "Of course, it's not like we didn't meet for dinner last night." The two of them shared a friendly chuckle before leaving the classroom.
........
........
Present day.
London.
The morning light filtered through the window, casting a soft glow in the hotel suite. Empty bottles still littered the room, and discarded shirts and pants were strewn across the furniture. Wonwoo slept soundly on the bed, his deep slumber undisturbed even by the honking of cars on the street below. The sound was just background noise until it eventually stirred him. His hand reached out, searching for you, but the spot next to him was empty. A sense of panic rushed through him, and he jolted awake.
He looked around the room, his eyes darting from one corner to another. The droplets of tears on his pillows from the night before served as a painful reminder. "No…" he groaned, his heart sinking as he believed that you had left him.
As the ensuite washroom doors opened, you walked out, dressed in the clothes you had worn to Jeonghan's wedding. Your hair was still damp as you towel-dried it. You stood in front of the mirror, unaware of the emotional turmoil Wonwoo had just experienced.
However, his reaction was quite different from what you expected. Wonwoo dashed from the bed, letting the quilt fall to the floor, and enveloped you in a tight hug from behind. "I thought you left," he confessed.
"Shall I pinch you to make sure I'm still here?" you teased, but he remained mostly silent, holding onto you. As you began to apply moisturizers to your arms and neck, you spoke again. "Babe, I appreciate the affection, but can you please shower? We have to pick up Noel and then head to the airport."
You looked up at the mirror to catch his reflection. His hand was nestled against your neck as if he were sleeping while standing. You couldn't help but question the abundance of bottles in the room, asking, "By the way, why are there so many bottles?"
Wonwoo cleared his throat, a bit flustered. "You're right; I should shower."
With that, he planted a kiss on your clothed shoulder and headed to the shower, leaving you to roll your eyes at his antics. As you got ready for the day ahead, you couldn't help but think about the significant conversation you'd had with him the previous night
The previous day, you had called Jeonghan to assure him that you were safe. After shouting and sobbing at you for 15 minutes finally left for his Honeymoon and left Noel with Leila for the night. You and Wonwoo had spent the evening talking, staring from your whole trajectory of Noella and Joshua to Nikolia's death threats.
Now, in the hotel suite, you finished putting on your shoes when Wonwoo emerged from the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. He began to dress in a black suit, and as you watched him, your eyes couldn't help but linger on the marks your nails had left on his defined back. You quickly looked away, back to the task at hand.
After buttoning and tucking in his shirt, Wonwoo rolled up his sleeves, leaving his veined forearms exposed. You picked up your earrings when he softly called your name, his voice tinged with a hint of nervousness.
"Hmm," you replied, struggling to clasp the earring lock.
Wonwoo walked closer, stopping beside you. Both of your reflections were visible in the full-length mirror. When you finally managed to clasp the lock, you let out a sigh of relief and reached for the other one when he took your left hand in his and turned you to face him. His thumb traced soothing patterns on your knuckles as he began to speak.
"I know our beginning was far from perfect, but even with its imperfections, it has given me something more than I could wish for. Today, as we walk out of this room, I want us to step into a new beginning—a future where there are no more secrets, no more contracts, just us and Noel. I know I don't deserve you, but I'm willing to humble myself before you."
Wonwoo then got down on one knee, and your eyes widened. A soft gasp escaped your lips as he continued, "I will try every day to prove myself worthy of you if you'll have me."
With trembling hands, he unclenched his fingers to reveal your wedding ring. "Wonu…" you whispered, a lump rising in your throat.
His eyes glistened with tears as he spoke from his heart. "I don't know when it happened, y/n. There were times when I even detested people who changed entirely when they entered a relationship. After Eleanor, I didn't bother seeking that kind of connection. But here I am, on my knees, asking my wife to let me love her, to allow me into her heart. Will you, y/n?"
The tears blurred your vision, but you managed to nod vigorously. Wonwoo carefully slid the ring onto your finger, and as he stood up, he immediately pulled you into a tight hug, overwhelmed with emotions.
As you and Wonwoo walked out of the suite and into the parlor, you were slightly surprised to see four tall, equally buff, and slightly intimidating men standing in the middle of the room. You glanced at your husband with a quizzical expression, and he gave your back a gentle push, saying, "Don't worry, they are your and Noel's new bodyguards."
You blinked in astonishment and turned to look at the four men who were still standing in a respectful bow. "Wonu, I don't need bodyguards," you protested.
Wonwoo gestured to the men to rise and wait outside before addressing your concerns. "Y/n, I am well aware that you're capable of protecting yourself, but I'm not taking any risks or having any discussion on this matter. Please, darling, humor me. You won't even notice them. They've been following you and Noel since the day you arrived."
You hesitated, wanting to argue further, but his words made sense. "But it looks awkward to walk around with guards like…"
"Y/n, although I'm gravely grateful to Noel's grandfather, I can't forget or forgive what his son did," Wonwoo declared with determination. "You have to realize that you're not just an L/N anymore; you're a Jeon now. I'll be damned if I even allow a fly to harm my wife."
Before you could say anything in response, Wonwoo sealed his statement with a tender peck on your lips and began walking toward the exit, your hands clasped together as you followed him.
........
.........
Nikolia found himself in a disorienting darkness, tied securely to a cold, unforgiving chair. He struggled to grasp any sense of time, all memory of the past hours and days escaping him. After his arrest, he had been transported to an undisclosed location, but he had no way of knowing for how long he had been in this inky abyss. The van that brought him here had taken a bizarre turn into the unknown, and that's when the men had covered his face, shrouding him in a suffocating blackness.
His desperate cries and frenzied curses echoed in the void, but they were swallowed by the oppressive silence that clung to him like a shroud. The journey had been a nightmare, a cacophony of fear and dread. When the vehicle finally stopped, his captors grabbed him and dragged him into this unseen space.
Suddenly, the door creaked open, and he heard footsteps approach. His heart raced as the men, with hands like steel, grabbed him and removed the blindfold that had been his only connection to the world. A rush of blinding light stabbed at his eyes, and he squinted, disoriented, and dazzled.
Nikolia's first instinct was to struggle against the restraints that bound him to the chair. "Let go of me, you bastard! You're messing with the wrong man here, All I need is one phone call and your whole family is done for" he yelled, the defiance in his voice strained with anger and frustration.
Wonwoo, took a languid drag from his cigarette, his eyes hidden beneath a veneer of cold detachment. "Am I?" He arched one meticulously groomed eyebrow as a henchman in the room landed a brutal punch on Nikolia's face, sending shockwaves of pain coursing through his body. Blood sprayed from his mouth as the impact made his jaw rattle.
As the coppery tang of blood mingled with the acrid scent of tobacco, Wonwoo continued, seemingly unperturbed." you know Nikolia, when I first saw you in the court I understood what a weakling you are, tch, such a waste of a pretty face" Wonwoo tilted his head to the side, as though pondering an intriguing conundrum. "You didn't even have the caliber to fight like a man. If you wanted the money all you had to do was come and beg us"
Nonchalantly, Wonwoo discarded his cigarette and crushed it underfoot, further emphasizing his indifference to Nikolia's suffering. "But no," he continued, rising from his seat with calculated elegance, "you had no go and get yourself get fucked over by your own stupidity"
Wonwoo seized Nikolia by the hair, his grip merciless, and forced him to meet his unrelenting gaze." you should've known your enemy before messing with them, if you get the chance from all the bending, ask who Jeon bo Hyuk was" With those ominous words, Wonwoo swung a heavy fist, striking Nikolia squarely across the cheekbones. The sudden, blinding pain sent white spots dancing before Nikolia's eyes. "That's for even thinking about harming my wife" He gasped as the warmth of blood gushed from his nose.
For a brief moment, Wonwoo stood above him, an imposing figure against the harsh light, before he delivered another devastating blow," and that's on behalf of Noel" he declared, his voice laced with cold fury.
The room filled with the dissonant sounds of Nikolia's choking gasps and labored breathing.
The man in the black suit handed Wonwoo a towel, while behind Nikolia, a maniacal laugh and a series of painful coughs echoed. Nikolia's laughter, punctuated by bloodied gums, grated on the nerves of everyone present, "You're gonna regret this bell boy"
Without turning to face him, Wonwoo retorted, "And what are you going to do, tattle to Yunho?"
Nikolia's eyes widened in alarm as Wonwoo turned to the man in the black suit and commanded, "Return him to Richardson, make sure to tell him to treat him with so much care that he regains his faith in god again"
With a murmured "Yes, boss," the men swiftly began the process of transporting Nikolia out of this nightmarish confrontation.
"And to think," Nikolia sneered, even in his bloodied and beaten state, "that bitch has you wrapped around her finger. I guess her pussy has that effect I still rememb--""
Before he could complete his sentence, Wonwoo's fist struck with unrestrained force, and the chair, still bound to Nikolia's body, fell to the ground. The world swirled into a whirlpool of darkness as Nikolia's consciousness slipped away. Wonwoo gazed down at the battered and broken Nikolia, his voice laced with icy authority. "Rule of the thumb, you keep my wife's name out of your mouth," he declared, the weight of his words bearing down upon the man.
(A/N: Dude why didn't I made wonwoo mafia opens another wip )
........
........
One Month later
The evening of the 75th Anniversary gala was marked by an air of anticipation as you sat in a plush chair, the skilled hands of your makeup artist, Ashton, expertly crafting your hair into a glamorous masterpiece. You held a phone call with Racheal, going over the final details for the night.
"Make sure no more than five interviews," you instructed, your voice firm.
"That's done," Racheal confirmed promptly. "Each will get 2 minutes, and no personal questions."
"Good," you replied with a nod. "Are you there yet?"
Racheal's voice sounded through the phone, "No, just about to reach."
"Okay, then drive safe," you told her before ending the call. The preparations were in full swing as you adorned a stunning red-plated off-shoulder cape dress with a high slit. The fabric draped elegantly around your form, exuding an air of regal sophistication.
Just as you were getting ready, there came a discreet knock at the door. Chan, who had once stood as a symbol of discord between you and Wonwoo, now entered the room, holding a blue box in his hands. While things had improved between him and Chan, the tension still lingered his presence often an uncomfortable reminder of past misunderstandings. Wonwoo was prepared to go so far as to fire Chan in his act of contrition. However, you intervened, reminding him, "Why should someone else suffer for something you initiated?"
"Mr. Jeon sent you this," Chan explained, "and expressed his desire to see you wear it tonight."
You excused everyone from the room, leaving only Ashton behind, and Chan proceeded to open the box with a sense of reverence. Revealed within was a necklace that bore a stunning piece of history—an emerald and diamond creation that had once belonged to Catalina the Second of Russia. The gem sparkled with a rare, captivating beauty that made even Ashton gasp in awe.
"This is from the Anakami collection, part of the royal vault of Russia," Chan informed you, his tone respectful and impressed.
You nodded, your knowledge of the piece shining through. "From Catalina the Second."
Chan's understanding smile mirrored his acknowledgment of your profound familiarity with the necklace. Your appreciative smile revealed your thanks, and you gestured for Ashton to place the exquisite piece around your neck.
As the necklace adorned your neckline, he couldn't help but compliment, "Indeed, your husband has an eye for a gem."
Thanking Chan for his delivery, you expected him to take his leave, but he remained in place. After Ashton left the room, Chan went into a polite bow. You looked at him and turning back to your reflection with a more somber expression, you addressed him.
"Get up, Chan," you said gently, "the workers should not apologize for their loyalty to their boss. You did what any subordinate would do. I am not angry with you."
Chan's smile returned, and he bowed once more, an expression of gratitude and humility in his eyes. As he prepared to leave the room, you stopped him with a final piece of advice.
"Chan," you began in a soft but firm tone, "next time, try to keep your experiences and advice to yourself. Hmm?"
"Duly noted, madam," Chan replied with an appreciative nod. The understanding between you felt like a small step toward restoring a sense of normalcy to your relationship.
You were nearly ready, as Ashton entered again to finish the final touches.
The grand gala was a spectacle of opulence and glamour. The chandeliers hung from the ceiling, their crystal facets glistening in the soft, warm light. Servers in impeccable uniforms weaved through the crowd, offering trays of exquisite hors d'oeuvres and champagne flutes. The air was filled with the clicks of cameras and the hum of hushed conversations as guests from various elite circles, including A-listers, entrepreneurs, and influential individuals from both sides of your families, mingled and celebrated.
The event's announcer took center stage, standing beside the grand stairs, and her voice resonated through the room as all eyes turned toward her. "Ladies and gentlemen, I welcome you all to the grand celebration of 75 years of L/N Diamonds and Special Stones. We gather here to honor the visionary who started it all 75 years ago with his hard work, dedication, and passion for a woman's best friend. What makes this evening even more special is that it is also a celebration in honor of the newlyweds, the heiress of the L/Ns, and the prince of JJ Group, Jeon Wonwoo."
The crowd erupted into applause, and Wonwoo, surrounded by business partners, raised his glass, receiving smiles and nods from those around him.
The announcer continued, "Now, without further ado, I would like to call upon the stage the star of the evening, the diamond heiress and the CEO of Fareed Switzerland, Y/n L/N."
All eyes turned to the top of the grand stairs, and the clapping of the guests filled the hall. You descended the stairs gracefully, your red cape trailing behind you, giving you the appearance of a character from a classic film. The necklace adorning your neck, a magnificent royal heirloom from Russia, captured everyone's attention.
Everything seemed to slow down for Wonwoo as he watched you descend the stairs. He was struck by the realization of his incredible luck in being married to such a remarkable woman. His chest swelled with pride and second-guessed his luck.
As you reached the stage and adjusted the microphone, you smiled at the host and began your address, "Thank you, Lana, for that lovely introduction. Although the second half was lost to me because I was busy thinking about how not to trip on the stairs."Laughter rippled through the crowd. "Since I'm not a big fan of long speeches, I'll keep this address short and sweet. This evening is not about celebrating L/N Diamonds and Fareed but about those who dare to dream and the realists who support their dreamers, like Mr. Locke, Mr. Kim, and Mr. Jeong, who are present here this evening."
The spotlight fell upon their table, and you acknowledged them with a nod as they raised their glasses. "They started this journey with my grandfather 75 years ago, and, most importantly, to the backbone of this foundation who are present here—from the miners to the designers." You paused a round of applause resonated through the crowds, "When I was young, my grandfather would often be stuck in his office, spending hours analyzing the diamonds. He talked to me passionately about their history."
You continued, "One day, in my naivete, I asked, 'Grandpa, who do you love more, the diamonds or Grandma?' It might seem like a silly question, but he turned to me and said, 'Your grandma.'"
You recalled his words, "How come? You rarely spend time with her." He laughed and replied, "Because when I make a bracelet she likes, the smile on her face and the pride with which she wears that piece make me feel like she's carrying my love with her everywhere she goes. Love is never constant. Some days can be bad, and some good, but we do not live in days; we live in memories. These diamonds remind us of why we choose to wake up every day and be with the person we love."
You expressed your gratitude for the past 75 years, "For the last 75 years, we have not only been making diamonds but tokens of love that eternalize our memories—resilient, forever cherishable, and bound by legacy. So, let's raise our glasses to the 75 years of trust from our customers and the passion of our designers.
To my parents, who taught me love, to my son, who reminds me of how to love."
Your eyes found Noel standing with your father-in-law, holding his hand just a few feet away from the stage. Your eyes find Wonwoo's across the room when you smile as you address your husband, "And to my husband, who has shown me what it feels like to be loved."
The entire room joined in, raising their glasses and echoing your words, "To love."
Wonwoo mouthed the words, "To love," as he emptied his flute, a contented smile on his face.
(the angel on the left "This is getting too fluffy"
angel on the right "It is an epilogue it is supposed to be fluffy")
The music resumed, and you gracefully stepped down from the stage, leaving Rachel to deal with the waiting media. After about 20 minutes of enduring half-baked sexist questions and borderline invasions of privacy regarding your marriage and the recent conflict, you finally returned to the party and began greeting the guests one by one.
On the other side of the party, Rachel had finished her duties and decided to take a break at the bar. She ordered a drink and was savoring the moment when someone approached her. There was a slight hesitation in his demeanor, but he continued, "Shall I give you my card? I think you're going to need an attorney tonight."
Rachel furrowed her brows in confusion, asking, "Why?" Lowering his voice a bit, he replied, "Because you're dressed to kill." She rolled her eyes and smiled behind her glass. "Come on, it wasn't that bad," he defended.
"I didn't say anything," she replied, looking up at him. Their eyes locked, and Rachel felt hers drifting down to his lips. Unconsciously, she bit her lip and shook her head to snap out of her trance. That's when Jungkook cleared his throat and began, "Listen, Rach, about the other day…"
Rachel cut him off, saying, "It's alright. It doesn't matter. It was just a kiss. We met by chance, had an argument about wines, and then one thing led to another. It was a mistake, so let's forget about it, okay?"
Jungkook felt a pang of rejection, something quite unfamiliar to him in his experiences with women. He clenched his hands inside his pockets and wanted to say he didn't want to forget it, but before he could, a server interjected. "Excuse me, Ms. Lee. Madam Y/n is calling for you." Following the server's indication, Rachel spotted you standing in a group and beckoning her over with a subtle gesture as your eyes met. She got down from the stool, took her drink, and told Jungkook, "It was nice meeting you, Jungkook. Take care," before leaving him.
Jungkook, feeling a strange wave of melancholy, needing some air, took a glass of scotch and walked towards the balcony.
As you saw Rachel approaching, you gently pulled her to your side and introduced her, "Nora, Minny, gentlemen, this is Rachel Lee, currently the Managing Director at L/N's. Rach, this is the board of Fareed." They all exchanged greetings and shook hands, sharing a few words and smiles. You continued, "People, I hope you all treat Rachel well. She's my nomination for the COO candidate for Fareed."
Rachel could feel her eyes widen in astonishment, and her mouth slightly opened, but she quickly schooled her features. Bubbles of excitement tingled through her, just like they did when she kissed Jungkook. She stopped herself from following that train of thought and focused on answering Minny's questions.
.......
You were engrossed in a conversation with Mr. and Mrs. Kwon, Joon-hee's in law's, who was complimenting your exquisite necklace Mrs. Kwon, leaning towards you with a sly smile, said, "Thank you, I'm glad you both could make it. I thought you'd be in Japan."
Mr. Kwon nodded in agreement as his wife continued, "We were, but then Sunmi insisted we attend, especially since we didn't get the chance to meet her daughter-in-law due to your wish for a quick and private wedding."
You responded with a thin-lipped smile and a nod, but before you could reply, a familiar arm wrapped around your waist, enveloping you in a comforting scent.“There you are sweetheart, Sorry I am late, I was looking everywhere for you” Wonwoo smiled down at you and planted a soft kiss on the corner of your lips.
"Evening, Mr. and Mrs. Kwon. How have you been?" Wonwoo greeted them.
Mrs. Kwon interjected, "We're fine, as much as age allows us to be. I was just telling your wife that her preference for private meetings can sometimes leave a bad impression regarding close relationships."
You were about to respond, but Wonwoo beat you to it. He explained, "Well, it was my wish to have a private wedding. I didn't want to waste plates, where mouths would be busy chatting instead of chewing food."
Mrs. Kwon's expression soured, and she clicked her tongue against her teeth. On the other hand, Mr. Kwon smiled and reached out to shake hands with Wonwoo. "How are you, young man? Why don't I see you around the club anymore? You know, Y/n, he'd give even Matsuyama a run for his money."
Wonwoo gave a humble shake of his head. "Mr. Kwon is too kind. Well, if it's okay with you, may I steal my wife?"
Mr. Kwon let out a hearty laugh and said, "Sure, young man."
Wonwoo swiftly pulled you away from the couple, and as you walked side by side, he leaned in and whispered in your ear, "You look absolutely gorgeous."
You teased back, "You don't look half bad yourself." The subtle flashes of cameras continued as you asked about his interviews. He gave you a tired look that conveyed his reluctance to discuss it at the moment.
As you both approached your parents, Noel ran to you and hugged your legs. "Baby boy, are you having fun?" You asked, and he nodded, pointing towards Somi. "Can Somi and I go to the chocolate fountain?"
"Sure, why not," you gestured for them to follow Tham, As he waved goodbye to your dad.
With the kids occupied, you talked to your parents, complimenting both your mother and mother-in-law on their incredible planning and coordination. Your parents were going to Italy for a bit of business that your father had, followed by a leisure trip to Sicily.
As you were about to move on to greet other guests, Lana took the microphone and said, "Although the average wedding reception occurs within an hour of the ceremony this one took 3 months" subtle chuckle from the guest "upon the suggestion of Mrs. Sunmi Jeon herself, I would like to request Mr. and Mrs. Jeon to bestow the honor of their first dance."
You looked around, a bit surprised, as all eyes were on you, anticipating your dance. You were about to shake your head in refusal when Wonwoo extended his hand towards you, his eyes locked onto yours. "May I have this dance, Mrs. Jeon?" he asked with a charming smile.
You looked at his outstretched hand and then met his gaze. There was a shared understanding, a connection that ran deeper than words could express. With a nod and a graceful curtsy, you accepted his invitation. You placed your hand in his, feeling his strong, warm grasp, and he pulled you gently towards him.
The crowd hushed in anticipation as the first notes of the waltz enveloped the room. You and Wonwoo moved together as if you were the only two people in the world. The dance floor felt like a world of its own, a place where only the two of you existed.
Your red dress swirled around you, its cape fluttering in harmony with the rhythm of the music. Wonwoo's tuxedo looked impeccable, and the soft colors of your outfits complemented each other perfectly. With each step and twirl, you moved as one, your eyes locked, and smiles shared.
On the balcony, Jungkook stood gazing at the night sky, an air of melancholy surrounding him. The soft glow of the stars above painted a serene backdrop to his contemplation. The world seemed to move on around him as he lost himself in his thoughts.
A voice broke through his reverie as Joonhee opened the door and stepped out onto the balcony. She had a teasing tone in her voice as she asked, "Hey, you aren't planning on jumping, are you?"
Jungkook didn't turn to look at her. He replied with a hint of wry humor, "Not without leaving a testimony that if I'm found dead, the first person to look for is you."
She walked over to him and stood by his side, her back against the railing, and her elbows resting on it. Curiosity laced her words as she asked, "You're wearing the same expression you had when we had to put Dora down."
Jungkook offered a rueful smile, reminded of their first horse, and said, "Not really, just thinking about a few things. Where's your husband?"
She glanced towards the hall where you and Wonwoo were dancing. "He's near the chocolate fountain with the kids."
Jungkook let out a dry chuckle. "Do you ever think that you're raising two kids, not just one?"
Joonhee smiled and nodded. "Every day."
A comfortable silence settled between them as they both leaned against the railing, watching the two of you dancing inside the hall. Eventually, Joonhee began to speak, her words filled with wisdom. "I've learned in life that if something doesn't work out, it means something better is waiting around the corner. You just have to be patient."
Jungkook clicked his tongue and voiced his doubts. "Sometimes certain things don't get better with time. They always take a part of you with them, and you're left incomplete, no matter what you do to fill the void."
Joonhee offered her perspective. "Then maybe you're filling that void with the wrong things." Both of them turned their gaze towards you and Wonwoo, who were concluding your dance.
"Remember when Eleanor left, oppa?" Joonhee hummed, her thoughts drifting back. "He was nothing but an empty shell, always working, never laughing, and not even attending the same places as she did. I hated her for what she did." She turned to Jungkook. "But that didn't stop you, did it?"
Jungkook shrugged, nonchalantly. "I can't be bothered about her. Her husband is an important client of my firm, and you know how it works. We don't really have a choice."
Joonhee nodded thoughtfully. "Look at him now. You know, Jungkook, things do get better with time. But if you find something you really want, then you have to fight for it."
Jungkook questioned with a hint of uncertainty, "What if fighting makes it worse?"
"Then let it go," Joonhee advised. "If it's meant to be, it will be." They watched as you and Wonwoo concluded your dance, finding solace in the knowledge that sometimes, life had its own way of bringing better things when least expected.
As the final notes of the music filled the air, you and Wonwoo came to a graceful stop, and the room erupted in applause.
.......
As the night wore on and the party grew livelier, the atmosphere became even more festive after the dinner. You had just sent Noel home and Wonwoo was engrossed in conversation with some old college friends, their laughter echoing from the other side of the room. you found yourself near the bar, waiting for your drink. From amidst the crowd, you spotted a familiar face approaching, and a smile of recognition crossed your lips as he stood in front of you.
"It's been a while," he said as he slid next to you.
You nodded and replied, "Three years, I suppose. How have you been, Mr. Choi?"
Seungcheol grinned, "Y/n, please. I thought we were friends." He tilted his head, and you nodded in agreement.
"I've been good, just returned from Denmark," you told him.
"I see. And how's Mr. and Mrs. Choi?" he asked.
"Same old, playing the Cupid," you replied, and both of you shared a laugh.
"I would say you could relate, but here you are, married, leaving your comrade all alone," he said with a mock frown.
"Oh, come on. You know there was a limit to how far we could keep up the ruse. My mother caught on before the third date," you reminded him.
Wonwoo couldn't help but smile as he took a sip from his glass, listening to his friend's humorous recollection of their past swimming adventures, including the infamous incident where they had stolen his clothes, leaving him standing naked. However, his laughter concealed as His gaze wandered around the room and eventually landed on you, near the bar, sharing a hearty laugh at something Seungcheol had just said. Wonwoo's eyes were fixed on you, his brow furrowed in thought as he tried to place where he had seen Seungcheol before.
He watched as you laughed freely with someone else, your joy radiating from you like a warm glow. A tinge of unease settled in his chest as he realized that he couldn't easily divert his attention from the sight of you both having such a good time together.
"That's a cute kid," Seungcheol commented as you showed him pictures of Noel from Jeonghan's wedding. "Wow, so that's Jeonghan and Victor you were telling me about?"
You nodded and locked your phone. He raised an eyebrow, seemingly remembering something. "And what about that friend of yours, what's her name?"
"Noella," you assisted.
"Yes, what about her?"
You cleared your throat and informed him with a sad smile, "She and her husband passed away in a car accident two years ago."
A look of remorse flashed in Seungcheol's deep, dark eyes. "My sincere condolences, Y/n. I didn't know."
You smiled, saying, "It's alright, just life, you know."
He nodded in agreement, and a moment of silence passed between the two of you. Seungcheol then picked up his glass and said, "Well, I wasn't going to make it tonight, but I was curious to meet the man who managed to sweep you off your feet. Where is he?"
Before you could answer, Wonwoo's voice sounded from behind. "Why don't you meet him yourself?" You turned, slightly surprised, to find Wonwoo standing beside you, emitting a slightly intimidating vibe while keeping his eyes trained on Seungcheol.
You tried to break the stare-down, saying, "Seungcheol oppa, meet Jeon Wonwoo, my husband." You grabbed Wonwoo's arm and continued, "Wonwoo, this is Choi Seongcheol, you must have heard of him, Choi Motors and Tyres."
Wonwoo frowned and shook his head, saying, "Nah, doesn't ring a bell." You gave him a wide-eyed look, shocked by his response.
Seungcheol just laughed and reassured, "Y/n, maybe we have to work harder to reach the tall towers," extending his hand for Wonwoo to shake.
Wonwoo's hand was still in his pocket, and you dug your nails into his bicep. He reluctantly took his hand out of his pocket and gave a tight grip and shake. Seungcheol raised an eyebrow, saying, "It's a pleasure meeting you, Mr. Jeon."
Wonwoo replied, "Likewise. May I know how you know my wife?"
Seungcheol explained, "Y/n and I go way back. Our mothers are friends, and they decided to set us up together. So, we used to date."
"Fake date," you corrected.
Seungcheol teased, "Really, it was real for me." He felt Wonwoo's grip tighten, but he was enjoying making the man squirm. "Our mothers set us up to save the hassle, so we'd say we were on dates when, in truth, we'd just meet for 4-6 minutes and then part ways."
You chuckled as you continued, "Then, oppa had to leave for Denmark, and that's that."
"Tch, if not, you'd be Mrs. Choi today," he said with feigned remorse, further provoking Wonwoo. Wonwoo's smirk grew as he clenched his jaw.
He took his right hand out of his pocket, which was brushing your side. You released your grip on his arm and rested on your hand side, As he wrapped an arm around your waist, a little lower on the hip. You gave him a quizzical look.
"Then I should treat my mother-in-law better for being so quick-witted," he remarked.
"Wonwoo, did you know—" you began, but he cut you off.
"Y/n, Dad said he was leaving. Do you want to see him off?"
You felt a slight irritation flare within you as he cut you off, but you masked it with a smile, nodded, and turned to Seongcheol.
"It was so nice catching up with you, Oppa. If you're here for a while, why don't you come to our house? I'm sure it would be fun."
"Ah, I wish, but I have to fly back in a few days. But it was nice seeing you again, Mr. Jeon," Seongcheol said.
"Mr. Cho."
"Congratulations on your marriage and 75 years of L/N's."
"Thank you, Oppa."
Seongcheol looked at Wonwoo and advised, "Take care of this one; she can be a little feisty."
Wonwoo responded, "You don't say." With that, Seongcheol turned and left with a smile on his face.
As soon as he was out of earshot, Wonwoo turned to you and said, "Funny man. So, how many more have you fake-dated?"
You gave him a glare. "What was that?"
He looked down at you, confused. "What was what?"
"How many have I fake-dated before Seongcheol oppa?"
"Oh, now he's your oppa," Wonwoo mumbled.
"I can't believe this, Rude bastard" you muttered, shaking your head as you walked away from him. He glanced at your retreating figure and asked Himself, "Was I really that rude?"
.........
It was 2 am by the time you both reached home, your whole body aching from standing all evening. Adding fuel to the fire was Wonwoo, who still lingered around you. You managed to give him a little cold shoulder, still pissed at how he cut you off and treated your guest and asked that question. You never asked him how many women he indulged in, now did you?
As you were about to shut the door, a hand stopped it. "This is my room too," he said matter-of-factly.
"Right," you replied as you picked up the phone you threw on the bed. You were about to leave when he stopped you.
"Y/n, don't be like that. Come on, baby."
"Don't 'baby' me. Why did you have to act like some territorial brute, as if I have—"
"I know, I'm sorry. I just… I don't know, I didn't like seeing you laughing with another man. It pissed me off, okay?"
You raised your brows, pressing your lips into a thin line. "So, can I ask you if I do that as a profession? Fake date people? Do you even know what it feels like to have someone always nagging on top of your head, huh? With another shit-ton of things going on in life?" Your voice fell an octave.
"I know, baby. I'm sorry. It's just… fuck, I was just so pissed that I don't know what got over me, and I said that. I was just jealous."
You turned to him. "Would you forgive me if I admit I was?" He looked like a kicked puppy, and your anger radiated off of you.
You both walked back to your bedroom. Wonwoo's knees hit the edge of the bed as he plopped down, looking up at you. You gave him a knowing look, teasing, "How jealous?"
You placed your knees between his legs, pressing your kneecap against his groin. A soft hiss escaped his lips. He admitted, "So jealous that I wanted to take you right there in front of all those people. The moment you walked down those stairs, I couldn't believe my luck, that I am married to you."
You felt your heart quicken, and the familiar fire ignited within you. Slowly, you reached to remove the pin holding your hair in a half updo, letting your hair cascade down. You were about to take off your earrings when he stopped you, saying, "Leave them on."
He grabbed your hips, making you take a step back with one foot on the bed, causing you to fall back down. He pulled you to straddle his lap. Both of you leaned in, and your lips brushed against each other. You grabbed the back of his head and jerked it back, teasingly saying, "Nuh-uh."
You got off his lap and walked to the dressing table, settling down on the plush chair.
You gestured with your fingers in a "come hither" motion. On your command, Wonwoo discarded his suit jacket, tossing it somewhere in the room. He walked over to where you were sitting. When he was just two steps away, you raised your hand to halt him in his tracks, and he stopped.
"On your knees," you ordered.
"Y/N," he warned.
You raised your brows, taunting him. "So you don't want your forgiveness?"
He hesitated. You repeated your command, "Come here to me on your knees, Wonwoo, or I'll leave the room."
Without missing a beat, he dropped to his knees and took the remaining two steps, bringing him between your parted legs. A glimpse of your panties was visible from the slightly hiked slit in your dress. Wonwoo licked his lips and swallowed as he knelt before you.
Once he was on his knees between your legs, his hands reached to touch your thighs.
"Did I say you can touch me?" you asked.
"You're playing with fire," he threatened.
"Why, are you afraid of being extinguished?"
"Open my shoes," you demanded.
His eyes were burning with desire, but equally aroused and dilated. His hands reached your feet, and you raised your feet as the shoes fell with a thud, the relief of finally removing them washing over you.
Wonwoo brought your ankle near his mouth and bit on the Achilles tendon, making you hiss.
"Show me how sorry you are," you breathed out. His hands gripped your thighs to pull you to the edge of the seat.
"Tch, no hands," you commanded.
"How will I?" he asked.
"That's not my problem," you replied.
He removed his hands from your thighs and gripped the sides of the chair's cushion, his knuckles turning white as he slowly kissed his way up from your calves to your inner thighs, biting, kissing, and licking until he reached your panties. He took a whiff, rubbed his nose, and muffled, "How will I remove them?"
Your excitement was building, evident in your soaked panties. You condescended, leering down at him, "Foolish man can't even do this much alone."
Suddenly, he gave a hot lick and a soft bite on your labia, making you jolt and yelp. You grabbed his hair and pulled him away, a smug smile on his lips. "You think you're funny, huh?" Your chest heaved. "Just couldn't resist," he said with feigned innocence. You clenched your jaw and leaned back.
Your back was against the dressing table, and your feet, previously resting next to his thighs, were now pressing against his bulging, aroused crotch. You pressed your heels into him, making him hiss, and rubbed them up and down with slight pressure. Cocking your head to the side, you asked, "Don't you think you were a little out of line just now?"
His eyes slightly shut, enjoying the sensation, he responded with a low hum. You pressed harder for an answer.
"I'm sorry," he admitted.
"But I don't feel like you're sorry, darling."
You halted your actions and slowly bunched the dress around your waist. "Use your teeth."
On your command, Wonwoo leaned in and bit the side hem of your thong as you raised your hips to slide it down your feet.
"Now, here's your chance for redemption. Make it like you mean it."
Without further ado, Wonwoo gripped the cushion in a vice grip and delved into your bundle of nerves, exploring every nook and corner with his tongue and small bites. Your hands grabbed his hair, and you pushed him further in, your labored breaths and gasps echoing in the room.
One of your legs hiked up on his shoulder. "Fuck… ahhh… Won… Wonuuu…"
He continued with an unforgiving pace, your hips automatically trying to ride his face. The familiar tension started building in your womb, and you threw your head back, jaw slack. Your body and senses succumbed to the pleasure as the orgasm finally consumed you, with chants of his name leaving your lips. You came down from your high, panting.
Wonwoo felt a surge of pride course through him. It was his name on your lips, and your release belonged to him. He had been a fool to let a petty thought ruin the mood, but now he understood the beauty of redemption.
After you finally calmed down, he looked up at you and said, "Am I forgiven, baby?"
You nodded and teased, "Can I touch you now?"
"That's not how you ask for permission, Wonu," you playfully chided, "Do I have to give you a special etiquette class?"
He shook his head in response and corrected himself, "Can I please touch you?"
"Yes, you may," you granted him permission.
Without a second thought, he sprang to his feet, pulling you up from your seat. He captured your lips in a feverish kiss as his hands reached for your zipper. The dress pooled at your feet, and your hands were busy undressing him. You threw his coat and belt aside, opened his shirt, and then dealt with his pants as his hands touched and groped every part of you.
He was throbbing painfully as your hands grabbed him, rubbing along his slit. He sat on the bed and pulled you to straddle his lap, raising your hips as you rubbed his head against your lips. You slowly descended down on his length, both of you moaning together. Your hips matched each other's pace as you rode him, and the pleasure was overwhelming.
Your hair was sticking to your back as you reached to gather it into a makeshift ponytail. The earrings and necklace were the only accessories adorning you. He groped and sucked on your nipples, rolling his tongue around them and grazing with his thumb while the other hand played with the other.
You reached your other hand down and gave his balls a squeeze, eliciting a loud moan from him. "FUCK, Y/N," he exclaimed as he looked up at you, an enticing sight for his eyes.
"Not so soon," you panted. But he was desperate and wanted more. You fiddled with his balls, letting go of your hair, and pushed him back onto the bed. You began to ride him vigorously.
Even in the midst of overwhelming pleasure, he couldn't close his eyes. Your hips picked up the pace, and your chests matched the rhythm. He couldn't tear his eyes away from your neck, which was adorned with the expensive necklace he had gifted you, worth every million.
Your hands gave him another squeeze, and his release shot up. "Will you cut me off again?" you commanded.
Wonwoo shook his head in desperation. "No, no, never, never," he declared, his hips chasing the final ropes of pleasure.
He reached for the back of your head and brought your lips to his, your chests pressed tightly against each other. His thrusts chased the climax. "You fuck me like this and then question why I get jealous when another man tries to come close to you? How would you feel if some other woman tried flirting with me?" He gasped against your lips, and you bit down on his lips, tasting a slight tinge of copper.
"That's just wishful thinking, darling," you retorted, "as if you'd even desire another woman after getting fucked by me." You clenched around him, his now softening dick, making him gasp as your pleasure overtook you.
Wonwoo couldn't help but agree, realizing that you couldn't be more right.
.........
.........
2 Months Later
You were sitting in the living area, waiting anxiously for Noel and Wonwoo to return from their baseball game with your father-in-law. The news you had learned that morning had your heart racing and your palms sweaty. You couldn't help but feel jittery as you waited.
Finally, Noel and Wonwoo walked in, and to your shock, they had a puppy with them. You looked at both of them with a puzzled expression, "What is this?"
Wonwoo appeared confused and asked, "What? This little furball?"
You huffed, "Yes, that golden retriever puppy."
"Oh, come on, Y/N, don't be like that. That's Noel," Wonwoo replied, trying to explain.
A chorus of "hey" came from the boy, who was now playing with the little golden retriever pup. You glared at Wonwoo, crossed your arms, and tilted your head to the side, clearly displeased.
Noel began, "On our way back, we saw a woman putting this puppy litter on the road. She was giving them away because her dog died while giving birth, and she couldn't raise them all alone. So she was giving them to whoever wanted to take them."
You scowled at Wonwoo and retorted, "You could have asked me first, you know."
He defended their decision, "Yeah, that would have ruined the surprise."
Wonwoo then took the pup in his hands and held it up in front of his face, using a fake cute voice, "Don't you think I'm cute?"
You looked down at Noel, who was giving you the same puppy-dog eyes as the actual puppy. He pleaded, "I promise I'll take care of him. I'll take him for walks, feed him on time, and even give him a bath, I promise."
Wonwoo chimed in, "He promised."
You sighed and continued to examine the dog, lowering yourself to its eye level. You extended your hand for it to smell, and it automatically started licking your hand. You looked up and inquired, "Did you at least get him checked by the vet and have him registered for vaccines and stuff?" Your tone was laced with a warning.
Wonwoo hesitated, avoiding eye contact, and a sense of guilt washed over him.
But before you could press further, Noel interjected with enthusiasm, "Of course, we did, Dad and I took him to the vet, and I've even named him."
"So, what did you name him?" You looked at Wonwoo and then at Noel, curiosity in your eyes.
Wonwoo began, "Well, I first suggested Tony, you know, after Tony Stark—"
"But then he kind of reminded me of Baden," Noel interrupted. The pup gave a yelp, as if responding, and Noel continued, "He liked it, see? He even responds to it. So I named him Baden."
You and Wonwoo exchanged a knowing glance. You had informed Noel about Baden's passing in an accident and had made sure his funeral was well taken care of. However, you refrained from attending, choosing instead to pay your respects a week later.
You gave Noel a tight smile and reached to take the dog from your husband's arms, raising him to your eye level. "So you are Baden," you mused. The little puppy wagged his tail and stuck out his tongue, letting out a small bark. "But I'm going to call him Denny," Noel innocently added. You silently approved, knowing that you'd likely be calling the dog's name at some point, and you didn't want to summon the spirit of Baden Bulavia inadvertently.
"Then welcome to the family, Baden. I hope you take good care of my son," you said to the puppy. As if understanding every word, the little dog turned his head to the side, listening intently.
With a nod of satisfaction, you sent Noel off to take a shower and asked Ahjumma to buy some milk and puppy diapers. You couldn't deny the cuteness of the new addition, but you had no intentions of cleaning up after his mess on your new carpets and bedding.
"Wonwoo, we need to talk," you said, your voice carrying the weight of seriousness. Wonwoo, who was in the middle of sharing details about the game, immediately stopped speaking. He could sense the gravity in your tone. Following your lead, he walked to his ground-floor office.
Upon entering, you closed the door behind you. adorned with rich mahogany bookshelves, stuffed with leather-bound books, and filled with the intoxicating scent of Paper and Tobacco. Files were meticulously arranged on the desk, and a sleek laptop sat at its center, the flickering screen casting a bluish glow on the polished wooden surface.
"Y/n, if it's about the dog, then I'm sorry. I know I should have informed you, but I couldn't say no to Noel and -"
Your heart was racing, and his rambling only made it worse. You fiddled with your wedding ring, taking quick breaths.
"…and I know you don't like surprises. If you want, then I guess I'll return it back."
"Wonwoo, I'm pregnant!" you blurted out in a quick breath.
As soon as the words left your mouth, all the rambling died in Wonwoo's throat. His mouth opened and closed like a goldfish, and all the switches in his brain seemed to go off. The world slowed down around him, and anxious anticipation coursed through his veins. In a whispered tone, punctuating each word, he asked, "You are what?" His eyes widened, and his eyebrows almost touched his forehead.
"Well, for the past few days, I was feeling kinda queasy, and my periods were late. I went to the doctor earlier when you both were at the game because I wasn't sure, considering the uterine device…"
Wonwoo took a step towards you, and you continued, "The doctor ran some tests, and… I am four weeks pregnant."
You kept your gaze on your hands as you spoke. When you felt Wonwoo's hand on your shoulder, you raised your head to see him. His eyes glistened with unshed tears, and your eyes welled up as well. "You are pregnant," he said, his voice trembling towards the end. "We are going to have a child, a baby."
A sense of doubt arose in his voice as he asked, "Are you unhappy?"
"Are you kidding me? I am the happiest man on Earth right now," he said and picked you up, spinning you around. You laughed and playfully slapped his shoulder. He halted his spinning to look into your eyes.
"We can't tell anyone, at least for the next two months."
"But—"
"No 'buts.' I just don't want to jinx it."
He looked a bit dejected but understood your point. "But we should at least tell the housekeeper to be extra careful and Noel that he's going to be an elder brother now."
A smile faded from your face, and Wonwoo gently put you down, cupping your face in his hands. "What's wrong?"
"It's just… I don't want other people's malice to affect Noel. You know how they talk behind our backs, and what if Noel feels neglected and hates it."
"My love, Noel is a very wise and smart boy who knows that no matter what, your love for him and his place in your heart will always be irreplaceable, okay?"
Bending down to your eye level, Wonwoo kissed your forehead and then your cheeks. "You have no idea how happy I feel right now. I can't wait to hold her."
You furrowed your brows and looked up at him. "How do you know it's a 'her'?"
"Call it a father's instinct," he said, and you rolled your eyes, letting out a sarcastic laugh. "Load of shit."
"What—" He laughed. "You don't believe me. You'll see. The way she managed to dodge the uterine device with her resilience and stubbornness, there are no other arguments but to think it's a girl. Just like her mother." You pinched his hip. "Ouch! Haha."
He embraced you tightly, taking a step back to hold your chin between his thumb, bending down, and getting lost in a heartfelt kiss.
.......
Later that night, after dinner, Wonwoo went and told the housekeeper and Noel's nanny that you were expecting and to be extra careful with you, not even allowing you to step into the kitchen. And signing off that if this information goes outside he will know who leaked it.
The room was painted in shades of red and gold, resembling an Iron Man theme room. Beddings, action figures, and toy cars lined the shelves, creating an exciting atmosphere. The door was left open, and Wonwoo leaned against it, watching as Noel sat on his bed, ready to sleep. He was reading a book to Denny, the pup, who sat on his stomach with a diaper on, listening attentively.
"Hey, bud, got a minute," Wonwoo called.
"Oh, Dad, come in," Noel responded, looking up from his book.
Wonwoo sat on the side of the bed near the bedside table and wrapped his arms around Noel's shoulder. The pup jumped onto Wonwoo's lap, and his hands instinctively started petting the soft fur.
"What are you reading there?" he asked, pointing to the book.
"The Boy, the Mole, the Fox, and the Horse."
"Hmm, that's deep stuff," Wonwoo remarked.
"So did you have fun today?" he asked.
"Yeah, it was fun. By the way," Noel turned his body to face his dad, "does Grandpa get that excited about every match like that?"
Wonwoo snorted and said, "Pretty much, yeah. He used to be like that when I played in college."
"You played baseball in college?" Noel looked curious.
Wonwoo nodded. "Do you like any sports?" he asked.
"Well," Noel started, thinking for a moment, "I like horse riding, but baseball is cool too."
"Anything else?" Wonwoo suggested.
"Hmm, football. Uncle JJ told me that he and my father used to play football together sometimes."
"Football, huh? If you want, you can play too. JK is really into football. I'll ask him if he knows any good clubs."
"No, it's okay, my school has a team," Noel added.
"So, I wanted to talk to you about something," he cleared his throat and started. "Tante wants me to return Denny."
"What? No, she doesn't. The thing is, you're going to be an older brother."
"How?"
"Please don't make me give you a birds and bees talk right now; I am not prepared."
"Do you mean Tante is going to have a baby?"
"How do you know this?"
"We were taught in Moral and Physical Ed class about good touch and bad touch. They also told us how babies come in their mom's stomach."
Wonwoo felt it was best that he left this conversation to You. "Right."
"Yeah, when a man and a woman come together, and—"
"Got it, bud. Yes, we made a baby." Wonwoo cleared his throat at the end of the sentence.
"But I just wanted to talk about you being an older brother now. So, you're going to have a lot of responsibility and have to look out for your sibling and grow taller and stronger."
He closed his eyes and started again. "Noel," Wonwoo breathed. "There are going to be times when people's opinions grow a vicious voice in our heads and make you feel bad about yourself and other things. I just want you to know that even though we are not related by blood, you will always be a special part of our hearts. So, no matter what people say, you will always be our son. We will always love you, okay? So whenever you feel like that, you can come and talk to us, hmm?"
Wonwoo gave a reassuring squeeze on Noel's shoulder, and the boy wrapped his small arms around his ribs, hugging him and nodding against his chest. Wonwoo smiled and looked down, caressing his back, then kissed him on the top of his head. They realized they were almost squishing the pup between them when a small bark interrupted their moment. Parting, Wonwoo said, "I still think we should've gone with Noel Jr."
"DADDDD!!" Noel whined, making Wonwoo laugh. "Okay, okay."
........
........
In the cold, sterile jail visitor cell, Nikolia sat on one side of a thick glass partition, separated from his lawyer, who occupied the other side. They conversed through old, scratched telephones affixed to the wall.
Nikolia appeared unkempt and disheveled, with wild, devilish hair, dark eye bags, and an unruly beard. His wrists were encircled by handcuffs, a constant reminder of his current predicament.
“What do you mean my appeal got fucking canceled?” Nikolia growled, his frustration evident in his every word.
His lawyer, a man in his 50s with thinning hair, closed his eyes for a moment, collecting his thoughts before explaining, "It hasn't been canceled, Nikolia. It has been taken for further consideration."
“Then how much time will they need for consideration, huh? What do I feed you for? Fifteen years you've worked for me, and this is the best you could do, you pathetic fat pig.”
The lawyer sighed, realizing he had to tread carefully. “Nikolia, I understand your frustration, but you've been charged with four murders—three of your own family members—and other illegal arms trade activities. This led to the cancellation of our license as well. If that were not enough, you gave death threats to Jeon's daughter-in-law. They have everyone in their pockets.”
“I DON'T GIVE A FLYING FUCK WHO THAT BITCH HAS IN HER POCKETS. I AM NIKOLIA BULAVIA!! WHERE ARE THOSE PIMP-ASS FAMILIAS, HUH? DO THEY WANT ME TO OPEN MY MOUTH?”
The lawyer leaned closer, his voice hushed. “I'd suggest you keep your voice down and mouth shut about the Familia. They are already waiting for you to make a move so they can pull the trigger. If you want to stay alive, then stay put and mind your own business.”
Before Nikolia could unleash another tirade, the line emitted a beep, signaling the end of their call. An officer approached to escort Nikolia back to his cell, but he jerked his hand away defiantly, muttering, “I can walk on my own.”
The lawyer sighed heavily and went to sit in the waiting area. His phone suddenly rang, and his hands trembled as he glanced at the caller ID. Without wasting a second, he brought the phone to his ear.
"Yes, boss."
A deep, gravelly voice came from the other end, inquiring, "How was the meeting? How did that bastard look?"
"Very miserable, sir. He kept whining about how no one would help him, but he threatened to take the Familias down with him."
The man on the other end burst into a hearty laugh. "Let him suffer. That's what he gets when he underestimates the Knoxes. And if he makes even a slight squeak, you know what to do next, don't you?"
"Yes—yes, sir."
As the two men engaged in their conversation, a breaking news story flashed across the television screen.
"ACCORDING TO OUR WITNESSES, DURING THE PRIME MINISTER ELECTION, THE DEVELOPMENT MINISTER AND DAUGHTER-IN-LAW OF CANDIDATE LEE HYUN JOON, WIFE OF CONGRESSMAN LEE JOON SUK'S WIFE, ELEANOR LEE WHO WAS ACCOMPANYING HER FATHER-IN-LAW AND HUSBAND DURING THE RALLY WENT INTO LABOR A MONTH EARLY AND NOW HAS BEEN BLESSED WITH A BABY BOY," the news anchor reported.
The old woman nodded approvingly, her fingers interlaced in her lap. "Aigoo, such a considerate young lady," she mused.
The woman next to her, also engrossed in the broadcast, chimed in, "Their party has always been very family-oriented."
"You're right," the old woman replied, her voice filled with admiration. "They hold these values very dear. I guess he is a very promising candidate to vote for."
The two women continued to watch the news, their discussions about the Lee family, and their commitment to their political party.
.........
.........
3 Months later
The morning sun streamed into the lavish living room of your mansion, casting a warm and inviting glow. The day after Christmas had left remnants of the holiday festivities scattered all around. The majestic Christmas tree stood tall and proud, adorned with twinkling lights and ornaments, while the couch was strewn with colorful gift wrappers that had been torn apart in excitement.
You sat comfortably on the couch, legs tucked beneath a cozy blanket, taking in the cheerful chaos of the room. It was around 9 am, and beside you, Noel was still engrossed in unwrapping his birthday and Christmas gifts. This year was extra special as it marked your first Christmas after getting married, and it was also your beloved son's birthday.
You had decided to host a family gathering along with some of Noel's school friends, and the festive spirit lingered. However,. Jeonghan and Victor were celebrating the holidays with Victor's family, and Rachel was settling into her role as the new COO of Fareed in Switzerland.
Surprisingly, Jungkook had also missed the gathering. He had to rush to Zurich due to an emergency meeting with a client, leaving his mother inquisitive.
Noel continued to tear through the gift wrappers with enthusiasm, his excitement evident in the smile on his face. Amidst the chaos of wrapping paper, Denny was indulging in a game of peek-a-boo, occasionally popping out from beneath the torn remnants of gift wrap.
Despite your best efforts to keep your pregnancy a secret from family and friends, your husband Wonwoo seemed to be on high alert at all times. You weren't showing yet, and your choice of loose-fitting clothing helped maintain the illusion. However, subtlety appeared to be a foreign concept to him.
Wonwoo's protective nature was on full display, as he doggedly hovered around you, rarely venturing more than a few meters away. His concern for your well-being was unwavering, and he had a tendency to ask the same questions repeatedly. Whether it was inquiring about your comfort, worrying if someone was pressuring you to do something, or making sure you weren't on your feet too much, Wonwoo's vigilance, love, and care for you were unmistakable, even if his overprotectiveness sometimes bordered on comical.
During a conversation with Sunmi and your mother, Sunmi couldn't resist making a comment. "Have you gained weight?" she inquired, her eyes traveling up and down your figure.
You took a nonchalant sip of your hot chocolate, the smell of meat and eggs making your stomach churn. Even though these foods were essential for the baby's development, they had become almost unbearable. Wonwoo had made it his daily mission to ensure you ate at least one boiled egg before he left for work.
"Maybe I haven't checked," you responded with a hint of indifference.
Sunmi let go of the subject with a simple, "Hmm." However, your mother-in-law continued to eye you for the remainder of the evening, her eyes revealing a knowing glint. It felt like she knew your secret, and you couldn't help but think of her loose-lipped palm tree wannabe son.
"I'm going to tell them next week anyway," you thought, as you and Wonwoo had already confirmed the baby's health, assuring a healthy heartbeat.
Noel was over the moon with excitement ever since you'd shared the news with him. He would often come to the master bedroom to tell stories to the baby and inquire about its current fruit size. Sometimes, he'd fall asleep on your bed while Denny, who had become his inseparable companion, would curl up by your feet.
As Wonwoo entered the living room with two cups in his hands, he handed you the decaffeinated coffee. You offered your gratitude with a mumbled "Thank you, baby," and he leaned down to give you a quick peck on the lips. In a hushed tone, he whispered, "No worries, love," against your lips.
He then picked up Denny and settled down on the couch, the dog hopping from his lap to yours. Your nails naturally scratched the top of Denny's head while Noel nestled comfortably between the two of you.
"Noel, who's this from?" you asked as he was eagerly tearing into another gift.
"Nana and Pop's," he replied, his eyes filled with excitement as he managed the last rip of the wrapping paper. When he finally unveiled the gift, he exclaimed, "Cool, a hoverboard!" You and Wonwoo exchanged smiles. "Your parents will spoil him with gifts like these."
"My parents? Yours gave him a PS5 and a new tablet," you countered and smiled. When Noel asked, "Mom, can I go and try this out?" you felt a sudden shiver down your spine as if someone had paused you in the moment. "What—" you spluttered, "What did you just call me?"
"Mom," Noel looked a bit confused at your reaction. "Did you not like it? But Somi and my other friends said yesterday that since you're my godmother, I can call you 'Mom' too. I already call Dad 'Dad.' Should I not call you that?" His anxiousness peeked through his nonchalant tone.
Your eyes began to water as an overwhelming feeling washed over you. You set the cup aside and enveloped the boy in your arms. "Of course, you can, baby boy," you assured him, kissing the side of his head. "Go try the new gift." Noel eagerly unboxed the hoverboard and ran out, with Denny following closely behind. You shouted after him, "Don't forget to wear the protective gear! Mrs. Tham, please make sure he does that."
Your tearful eyes met Wonwoo's, and he approached, pulling you into his chest. "How are you feeling?" he asked, gently rubbing your arms in light traces.
"Not sure," you replied. "I feel happy as well as guilty. This was the third birthday without his parents. Every day he grows up, I'm grateful to witness it, but I feel bad that Noella and Joshua aren't able to. I hope wherever they are, they're proud of their boy. I still can't believe that he turned 8 yesterday."
Wonwoo didn't say anything, content in simply listening to you speak your heart.
He set his cup down and gently placed his hand on your now slightly protruding stomach. In the past, when you'd sleep together, his hands were wrapped around your waist or ribs. But now, he would sleep with his hand slipped under your t-shirt or nightdress, his palm resting on your stomach.
"I sometimes think about what would've happened if I'd let you walk out of the office that day," he began, his eyes slightly cloudy as he reminisced the moment.
"What do you conclude from it?" you asked.
"That I would curse myself until the day I die," he replied. He nudged you. "What about you?"
You tightened your grip around him and replied, "I don't know. I don't like to think of a future where you're not with me."
"My goodness, Mrs. Jeon, from where do you conjure these lines of flattery?" he teased. You looked up, your eyes finding his.
"A place different from where you get your corny ones," you retorted.
"Come on, they can't be that bad."
"Have you heard yourself when you speak, old man?"
"You make me sound like I'm ancient."
You just laughed and nuzzled your nose into his chest as he traced light circles on your stomach. Then, you mentioned, "Eleanor had a baby boy. People were talking about it yesterday."
"Yes, I heard. Good for her, I suppose," he replied.
"Hmm, maybe we should send them something."
"No need," he replied quickly, and you fell into a few minutes of silence. Then, you thought out loud, "Yesterday, I feel like your mother caught on to the pregnancy."
"How come? I was sure I was discreet about it." You moved out of his arms and looked at him with slightly raised brows. "Were you? Are you sure?"
"Okay, I may or may not have gone a little overboard with the concern," you confessed.
You moved closer and planted a kiss in the corner of his lips. "It's alright. We'll tell them on Saturday either way. I can't wait for the advice and Mama Bear mode overload."
Wonwoo laughed and leaned down to capture your lips in his. The pecks turned into kisses, and the kisses turned into a full-blown makeout session. Suddenly, Wonwoo got up from the couch.
"What's wrong?" you asked.
"Too many eyes," he replied, referring to the housekeeper and a staff member moving around in the kitchen, cleaning up the aftermath of yesterday's party. He then carried your bridal style to the master bedroom.
.........
.........
2 years later
Nestled in the outskirts of the city was nothing short of a luxurious paradise. It offered a 5-star experience, with its stunning landscapes that overlooked the entire city. The sprawling pool glistened under the sun, surrounded by lush greenery and pristine gardens, creating an atmosphere of opulence and relaxation.
The gathering was nothing short of grand, with everyone in attendance. The Jeon family, your own family, and all your dear friends had come together to celebrate a special occasion. Jeonghan and Victor joined the festivities, their newly adopted newborn son, Yuri, cradled in their arms.
As you looked at Noel, now a little older, you could see that he was growing more and more into his mother's features and his father's personality. His mischievous grin was reminiscent of the happiness Wonwoo had shown when the doctor revealed that you were expecting a daughter.
Iris, your little girl, was nestled comfortably in Wonwoo's arms. Her bright eyes held a sense of wonder as you held both of the children's hands. Together, you cut the ribbon to Oasis, marking the grand entrance to the celebration. The entrance was a perfect blend of grandeur and hospitality, adorned with an array of paintings representing different cultures.
As the gathering and welcoming ceremony continued inside the grand resort, you decided to take a quiet walk outside. You strolled along a serene pathway near a pond, where you noticed a duck entangled in some branches. Determined to help, you crossed a picturesque bridge and carefully reached out to free the distressed bird.
Lost, you didn't hear Wonwoo approaching. He found you engaged in a scene that felt oddly familiar – much like the first time he saw you. The duck pecked at your hand, and you assured it with a soothing voice, "Just a moment, I'm almost done." With a gentle touch, you managed to free the duck, watching it swim away to safety. As you took a step back, you collided with a sturdy chest, and when you looked up, your eyes met Wonwoo's warm gaze, accompanied by a contented smile.
"When did you get here? I didn't hear any noise," you asked, puzzled by his silent approach.
Wonwoo chuckled softly. "Well, some years ago, a little girl told me I should walk softly or else I might scare them."
Your eyes widened as he continued with a story from your past. "Then I asked her why she was helping them even if they were hurting her."
The girl, it appeared, had a wise reply. "Sometimes people who are hurt say or do harsh things because they don't know how to ask for help."
With realization dawning upon you, you gasped and covered your mouth. "You were that tall boy with the emo fringe haircut."
Wonwoo grinned and admitted, "Ouch, but yes, it was me."
The newfound knowledge left you surprised. "So the first time we met wasn't at my parents' place?"
He shook his head, confirming your suspicions. "And how long have you known this?"
"Since the moment I saw your picture on my desk," he replied, the affection in his eyes evident.
A gentle breeze ruffled your hair, and Wonwoo tucked a loose strand behind your ear. He then looked deep into your eyes and spoke from the heart, "I must have done something good in my life that God blessed me with you."
Moved by his words, you closed your eyes, savoring the warmth of his hand on yours, and let out a contented sigh. "You know, Wonwoo, if someone were to ask me today if I would endure everything all over again if it meant it would lead me to you and our kids, I would say yes a thousand times over."
In the grand tapestry of the universe, where the stars align in intricate patterns and destinies are etched before birth, finding meaning in life's every task may indeed seem like an exercise in futility. But perhaps, it is precisely this realization that can bring a sense of contentment and gratitude for where life has led you at this moment.
You and Wonwoo found yourselves leaning in for a passionate kiss. Lost in the tender moment, you were suddenly interrupted by a cheerful voice.
"There they are," Jungkook's fiancee exclaimed as she approached you, cradling a crying Iris in her arms.
The baby girl was frantically looking for her parents, her babbles pleading for "mama, mama."
With a loving smile, you reached out to take Iris into your arms. "What's wrong, my princess?" Your soothing presence seemed to calm her, but she then began reaching for Wonwoo and switching to his arms with a happy cry of "dada."
With a smile on his face, Wonwoo gently took her into his arms, cradling her close. "Yes, my princess, Daddy is here," he whispered as she nuzzled her head into his neck. The tenderness between them was heartwarming, and Iris continued to babble about her brother, "El no playing."
Assuring her, Wonwoo replied, "El is not playing with you." He continued, "What is he doing?"Iris reached for her headband, as if her speech delay was due to it, and took it out, blinking at you. She threw it to the ground and finally said, "El, Denny, Somi."
"Denny, El, and Somi are playing together and not playing with you," Wonwoo telepathically reasoned with his daughter she nodded at energetically at her father’s comprehensive skills. "It's alright; Dada will play with you. Let's go meet Grandpa."
As he started to walk toward the waiting family, Wonwoo turned to you with a warm smile. He extended his hand, inviting you to join him. "Come on," he said. You took his hand, and together, you walked toward the gathering of loved ones.
Jungkook was engaged in a playful game of frisbee with the kids and Denny. He noticed your approach and waved, acknowledging his fiancee before turning his attention to you and Wonwoo. As you settled down with your family, you couldn't help but look around and bask in the contented atmosphere.
Tham took Iris into her care, where Yuri was playing. Your gaze met Jeonghan's across the space, and he raised his glass with a friendly salute, and you nodded in acknowledgment. He resumed his conversation with Joon-hee and her husband, and you turned to Jungkook's fiancee, who was standing next to you.
You struck up a conversation, asking her, "So, Rach, how's life?"
............................The End..................................................
EXTRA
Noella ascended the stairs, her thoughts meandering as Joshua was away at work. Her steps were reflective of her inner contemplation. When Noella was young, she had never understood why her parents, seemingly always fighting, and her mother, who seemed to resent her father's profession, didn't just leave. It wasn't until she reached the age of 27 that it all became clear. Sometimes, when people are in love, they can become incredibly selfish. So selfish, in fact, that they'll go to any lengths to hold onto their last vestige of hope in the harsh, unrelenting reality of life. Despite her physical resemblance to her mother, at the end of the day, she was her father's daughter, through and through.
She was deep in thought, musing over her own obliviousness to your hesitations, your puffy eyes, and your quiet demeanor when she and Joshua first started dating. Did Joshua know about her feelings or the feelings she once had for him?
Noella had been out drinking with some colleagues when she ran into Jeonghan, who had indulged a bit too much in alcohol. In the midst of his inebriation, he confessed that you had been in love with Joshua and proceeded to shed tears for you. It felt like her illusions were crumbling, and her beliefs were disintegrating into the vast expanse of life's infinite possibilities.
She was about to reach her room when a soft, heartwarming "Mama" halted her in her tracks. Warmth enveloped Noella's heart as she bent down and scooped up her 5-year-old son, asking, "What's wrong, honey boo?"
"I can't sleep," he pouted, nuzzling his head in the crook of her neck.
She rubbed his back gently as his small hands clung to his pillow and teddy bear. She asked, "Want to sleep with Mama tonight?" To which he nodded.
Noella entered her and Joshua's bedroom and laid down next to him, "Hey, El."
"Hmm?"
"Do you ever think that if you could have any power in the world, then what would it be?"
"I would love Flash's powers; he can run super fast, you know," Noel replied with a glint of admiration in his eyes.
Noella couldn't help but chuckle at his response. "Flash's powers, huh?"
When Noel turned the question back to her, "What about Mama?"
Noella looked at her son's curious eyes and then up at the ceiling. After a moment of contemplation, she replied, "Time travel."
"Wow, that's so cool, but why that?" Noel inquired.
Noella's thoughts were already racing, formulating an answer when, in the midst of her thoughts, she added with a tinge of melancholy, "There are a lot of regrets to undo."
"But wouldn't that change the future?" Noel asked with innocence.
"Maybe," she shrugged, "maybe that's why we can't travel back in time to fix things."
Noel's eyes were heavy with sleep as slumber finally claimed him. He mumbled, "Tante says that not everything needs fixing. Sometimes time and patience are the best friends, and everything works out for the best."
"My son, when did you become so smart, huh?" Noella whispered, her fingers gently caressing his forehead. She began to sing the lullaby her mother used to sing, a soothing melody that cradled her son into a peaceful slumber.
Que sera, sera
Whatever will be, will be
The future's not ours to see
Que sera, sera
What will be, will be
With Love,
MSH
XXX
#lovelyhyukarecs#wonustars ✧.* {mutuals: msh ♡}#wonwoo x reader#wonwoo smut#I CANT BELIEVE ITS OVER NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO 😔#i’m going to miss this series so much it’s not funny#a piece of my heart broke while reading knowing it’s the last chapter but it was sssoosososososososo good 🙁#wonwoo is such a simp for her and i love it like it’s not very often i come across a subby wonwoo 😍😍😍#i love a man who knows how to obey his girl it makes me weak i’ll be honest and esp when they’re also emotionally intelligent agh#did i mention im still really sad that this is over? im never one to re-read a fic but i fear it’ll be changing today#just give me like 6 months to forget all the small little details and i’ll be running back to read this again🥹#i’m so sad it’s over it felt just like yesterday i was reading this story and thinking why am i allowed to read this for free😭#i feel like i should’ve paid like a considerably good amount of money to read this… ����😊😊😊#i’m going to mourn this for a good 7-10 business days now :(#ALSO THE PART WITH NOELLA AND NOEL LIKE ILL SOB BUT IM ALSO HAPPY THEY FEEL COMFORATABLE CALLING YN MOM NOW I THINK ITS SO CUTE#how do i move on after this….#i haven’t felt this way about a series since i read honey boy (i think that’s the name) by chocosvt and aqaumarine is officially my fav fic#on this platform… CONGRATS MY LOVELY MUTUAL ON SUCH A WONDERFUL SERIES WITH THE BEST ENDING AGH i love a good happy ending#btw it’s 5 am rn and i woke up with this still on my mind im not ok
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classyrbf · 7 months ago
Text
SERVANT DUTIES! — RYOMEN SUKUNA
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SYNOPSIS...sukuna can no longer hold himself back whenever he sees you in his quarters, so he ends up fucking you, his servant
INFO...true form!sukuna x fem!reader, manhandling, anal, double penetration, hair pulling, choking, dacryphilia, overstim, name calling, readers calls sukuna ‘master’ and ‘my lord’, not proofread
OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated
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“M-master!” You squealed, your ankles by your ears as tears brim your eyes. You’re gasping for air, trying your hardest not to pass out from the overwhelming pleasure you felt coursing through your body. “Please!” Your hands are pushing on his chest, weak attempts at trying to get him to slow down. But did you really want him to? The feeling of both of his cocks sliding in and out of you, penetrating both of your holes. They suck him in, wrap around him and keep him there, cause deep down, you’re aching to cum again.
“Fuck!” He grunts, one hand wrapped around your tiny little throat, squeezing, but not enough to do any harm. “Been wanting to feel this pussy since the moment you became my good little servant. And I must say, you’ve lived up to my expectations,” he chuckles, baring his fangs. You whimper under him, the praise going straight to your pussy. It’d be anyone’s dream to get praise by the Lord Sukuna, and you here you were, getting fucked by him. “You like being good for me don’t you?” He slams his hips against yours, the fat head of his cock sending you into a spiral as it hits all the right angles.
“Ah—yes!” You nod, eyes rolling back. “Yes!” Your hand comes to wrap around his forearm, little breaths leaving your lips as you lay there and take it. “I love it, my lord!” You stare up at him with such desperation and eagerness. He reaches his hand down your neglected clit, the pad of his thumb rubbing it in circles, amplifying the pleasure. “Master!” You gasp. “Gonna cum! Fuck! Fuck!” You scream, voice echoing through the room. Your legs shake under him, pussy throbbing around his cock.
“What are whore you are,” he laughs, slowly pulling out of your swollen pussy. He removes his hand from your throat, spreading your legs wide so he can get a good look at the mess you’ve made. Another hand strokes his cock, slowly, only inches away from where you wanted him most. “I should’ve known you were. Don’t think I haven’t noticed the way you look at me. That brain of yours is filthy, servant.” He has a smug smile on his face as he stares at your hole clenching around nothing.
“Sir, I…yes. I’ve had filthy thoughts about you,” you say shyly. “I did not mean to—ah!” He flips you over onto your stomach like you weigh nothing, hoisting your ass in the air before giving it a good slap. Your eyes clench shut at the stinging sensation, his nails trailing over your skin. “I’m sorry,” you meekly say.
“Tell me, have you thought about me spanking you before? Bending you over and fucking you senseless?” He closes in on you, his breath fanning your ear as he whispers so delicately with such dominance. He dips two fingers into your sopping cunt, taking pleasure in hearing the way you moan into the sheets. “Or having my fingers in your greedy cunt?” The lewd sound that followed his movement made your face heat up in embarrassment. Unexpectedly, he forced your gaze upon him, grabbing a fistful of your hair. You winced, staring at him through half lidded eyes. “Answer me.”
With a simple nod, you answered, “yes, my lord.” He let out a devious laugh at your words, he build towering over you as he looked down at you in your most vulnerable. You tried to hide from him, cowering on all fours while his fingers were still deep inside of you.
“Usually, I don’t tolerate such behavior, especially from a weak human like yourself,” he removed his fingers from you, looking at how they were coated in your slick, “but you seem so desperate and eager for me, I find it rather entertaining. Are you not afraid I might hurt you or is that what you want?” He positioned himself behind you, his hand running down your spine, goosebumps on your skin. “You’ve intrigued me, servant.”
Your eyes widened at the feeling of both of his cocks sliding into your tight holes, your hands gripping the sheets below you as you accommodated to the stretch. A measly whimper escaped your throat as you prepared for his harsh thrusts. You knew he wasn’t going to go easy on you. His large hands grip your hips, the other tugging at your hair, and lastly another one tugging at your arm all while he slammed into you. Plap! Plap! Plap!
“Nngh—fuck! Ah!” You pant, your body thrusting forward with such force only to be pulled back by Sukuna. “Oh my god!” Your eyes roll back and your jaw falls slack at the feeling of his cock dragging along your sensitive walls.
“The only god here is me,” he growls, pulling your back flush against his broad chest. His hand wrapped around your throat as he pistons his hips with such ease. Your hands grip onto his thighs, nails leaving crescent marks on his skin. “I should fill your holes, breed you and make you my concubine,” he devilishly whispered in your ear. “Did you just clench around me? Did the thought of me breeding you turn you on, filthy human? Say it.” His hand squeezed your throat tighter before he pushed you back down to the bed, shoving your head into the pillows.
“G-gonna cum! I’m so close!” You scream, tears streaming down your cheeks as he plowed into you with such force, fucking you into the mattress.
“Shit! Mmm, fuck yes!” He pulled you back on his cock, fucking you harder, deeper, and faster. He landed a slap on your ass, watching the way it bounced back, leaving him mesmerized. His thrusts grew sloppier, a clear indication he was going to cum soon. “Say it!” He demanded, voice sharp and rough.
“Fuck! Please, breed me! Please, my lord! I want it—ah! I’m cumming!” You cried out, body quivering while simultaneously, you felt hot spurts of cum fill you up in both of your holes.
“There you go, fucking take it!” Your weak body collapsed, as he slowly pulled out of you, watching in awe at how his cum leaked out. “Maybe humans are good for something after all,” he scoffs. He watches the way your body trembles on his bed, barely able to move on your own. “You’ve impressed me today.”
With slow movements, you pick your nightgown and robe up off the floor, dressing yourself. “I’m glad I could be of service to you, master.” Your voice is wavering as you gather yourself, bowing your head in respect.
Just as you were about to walk away, you hear his footsteps behind you. “And where do you think you’re going?” He asks, voice echoing in your ears. You turn to face him, scared to make eyes contact with him even thought his cum was dripping down your legs.
“Back to the servant quarters—”
“Did you take what I said as a joke? You’re my concubine now.” He steps closer, closing the distance between you two. “Clean up. I’ll have the others bring you something more suitable to wear to sleep.” He looks down at the cheap nightgown you wore, a few buttons missing from when he ripped it off of you.
“I didn’t mean to offend you. Thank you, my lord.” You went to step towards the bathroom, only for his large hand to pull you back.
“Undress, here. I’ll have them throw it out,” he demanded. You gulped, nodding at his orders. You carefully undid the buttons, sliding the night gown off, the fabric falling at your feet. “Now go. Perhaps I should join you after.”
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imamotherfuckingstar-lord · 6 months ago
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imagine logan seeing you again
logan x reader
warning: some deadpool x wolverine spoilers. this takes place after the movie. under 1k words.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3
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The apartment was packed jammed with friends and some foes of Wade Wilson. There might have been music playing in the background, but Logan couldn’t tell when his eyes locked with the figure walking through the front door. His heart dropped, he felt sick to his stomach as his eyes fluttered. It had to be a dream but then he quickly came to his senses.
This wasn’t his universe, his world. He was somewhere entirely new. He caught his breath as Wade shouted out an exclamation of joy. Logan watched as he drew up from his seat to greet you with an overzealous hug, pulling you toward the group at the table.  Wade held you rough by the shoulders and grinned. “Look who decided to come out of retirement, conveniently after we,” he pointed to Logan then himself. “Saved the fucking world. Avengers, who? Bunch of assholes, if you ask me.”
“You sound like a man scorn, Wade,” you teased, offering a wave of a hand to your friends. The idiot next to you was right, the whole superhero thing had been a thing of the past. You have been a regular civilian for a few years now and have been loving a more relaxed existence – not being threatened daily was like, nice. “Don’t worry, you’ll see all the details in the movie. Have you meant my little angry beaver, the Wolverine?”
Your head jerked to where the older gentlemen was sitting, and you grinned. “I haven’t had the pleasure. I never met this world’s Logan – we ran in different circles. It’s nice to meet you.”
His heart relaxed and he confidently held out a hand, ignoring the interested glance from Laura. “Nice to meet you.”
“Take a seat next to Logan,” Wade urged, winking over to his new hesitant partner. “I’m sure he can fill you in on all the fun we’ve had together. Tell her about the sex ramp we had in the car that one time.”
“Do you ever shut the fuck up?” Logan cursed, telling you to ignore him.
“I usually do,” you laughed, thanking Vanessa for the beer she slid over from her side of the table. Popping it open, you relaxed and asked Logan how this place was treating him. “Must be weird, coming here. It’s like your world, right? Just slightly different?”
“Something like that.”
“Did we know each other back there?”
Your question seemed so invasive and frank – it almost made Logan smile because some people never changed, no matter what universe. Back where he came from, you were such a firecracker little shit. He had his hands full dealing with your bullshit. You were always running towards danger with little regard for your own safety because you had him. He had always been at your side, or at least, trying to catch up but he had always been there for you.
Logan had loved you and you had loved him.
Two reckless mutants.
Then you died and that sent him straight down a barrel of alcohol and indifference, to everyone and everything in his world. Which led to his greatest shame of all, allowing his family to be murdered because he was too busy drinking his sorrows away. He had long forgotten what it felt like to see you smile or hear you laugh, to feel your fingertips on his skin. The weight of your head on his chest as you slept, he never could replicate that feeling and yet, here you were.
A different version of you but God, the same.
“We were friends, really good friends.”
The hint of sadness in his voice was enough for you to understand and maybe not truly, but something had happened. That much was evident and while it might have been silly, you wanted nothing more than to comfort this man next to you. The room seemed to fall quiet, but no one was paying attention, except the girl next to Logan. Your eyes met hers, but she just smiled and looked away. Logan’s eyes were focused on the beer in his hands, but his eyes jerked up when a gentle hand touched the top of his. Your skin ablaze his and it felt wrong to feel like he had once when he didn’t even know you. Not this version of you, a woman he knew nothing about. It didn’t feel right but he wanted nothing more to allow this to go on. To see who you were in this world.
Did he deserve that? After everything that happened.
“Were? I won’t pry but it seems like life has given you a second chance, Logan.” You smiled softly and removed your hand from his, lifting your beer can to him. “You guys saved this world; a second chance is the least the universe can give you. Why not take it?”
Logan chuckled lowly. “The version of you I knew also had a deficiency in reasoning.”
A hard smack landed on his chest, and he laughed, which made you laugh. “Yeah, well, at least I don’t look like that idiot.”
Looking over to where you pointed to Wade, who had decided to show off his hair piece, Logan smirked. “Yeah, that’s fucking terrible.”
The two of you smiled at each other and something clicked in that moment, leaving the both of you quiet until you broke the tension. “To not looking like Wade Wilson.”
Logan clicked his beer against yours and felt a settling in his heart. Maybe he did deserve a second chance, at least, he could start toward earning that second chance. “Amen to that.”
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little-diable · 7 months ago
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Lightning - Tyler Owens (smut)
I mean, we all knew this would happen. I haven’t seen the movie yet, but I am DESPERATE for him. And as somebody who actually has something to do with studying tornadoes, I had to write this. I am obsessed with this fic, but I doubt this will get much attention, so please actually reblog it if you enjoyed reading it! Enjoy my loves. xxx
Summary: Tyler and the reader are chasing tornadoes together, but when they have to step back and find shelter, things quickly change between them.
Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, handjob, kinda enemies to lovers, teasing and all that fun stuff
Pairing: Tyler Owens x fem!reader (3k words)
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Wind was blowing in her face, letting her strands dance in the air while her eyes flickered between her laptop screen and the dark sky. She was surrounded by her team, trying to ignore their shouts as they decided which direction to head in. (Y/n) was torn between too many options, not liking the way this afternoon was playing out. 
It was do or die, miss or hit one of the biggest tornadoes they had come across in a while. And yet the second cell that was currently forming gave off a somewhat more promising chance of catching enough data this time around. 
“Which way will it be, lightning?” Her breath hitched in her chest as he mumbled the words, front pressed against her back. The hairs on her arms began to rise, fully focused on his closeness, allowing her to pick up on the scent of his familiar cologne, on the way his breath fanned over the back of her neck as if he was about to kiss that very spot.
“Am I dreaming? Is Tyler Owens asking for my opinion?” She slowly turned towards the handsome man. Her eyes instantly found his piercing ones, getting lost in their intense gaze while he shot her one of his signature smirks. Fuck, if he weren’t such an asshole most of the time, she would easily give in to the pull she felt, allowing him to tug her towards his bed without having to fear about the aftermath. But if there was one thing (y/n) was sure of, it was that Tyler Owens was all about playing games, toying with a woman until he eventually grew bored. He was a personification of a thunderstorm, fast moving and never ready to settle.
“Don’t let it get to your head, pretty.” She clicked her tongue with a displeased expression tugging on her features. There was no time left to study him, to curse whoever had created him for making him look this handsome. They had to stay focused, at least until she got the data she needed for her project. 
“Alright, we’re heading east.” (Y/n) closed her laptop before reaching for her bag–the bag that was snatched from her grasp before she could protest. Tyler had slung it over his shoulder while tilting his head towards his truck, silently asking her to ride with him. 
On any other occasion she would have cursed him, would have told him to fuck off. But today, while being heavily understaffed, she needed any help she could get. And knowing that Tyler drove like the devil himself, she knew she had the best chance of arriving just in time with him by her side. 
His smirk grew wider the second she gave in, begrudgingly following Tyler while her eyes found the confused ones of her teammates. She only rolled her eyes at them, raising her shoulders and dropping them again as if she was wordlessly telling them that she was just as confused as they were, not seeing through Tyler’s game just yet. 
Silence filled the truck, only a few commands left (y/n) whenever they needed to make a turn, chasing down the roads to catch up with the growing cell. All while the others followed behind them, too slow to catch up with Tyler’s truck. Her heart was pounding in her chest, riled up by the anticipation of chasing another storm – no matter how many times she had done this before, (y/n) would never get used to the thrill, the moments leading up to seeing yet another beautiful though terrifying tornado. 
“You alright, pretty?” She’d never get used to the way Tyler called her, dripping with that drawl she loved more than she’d ever admit. (Y/n) didn’t look at him, fully focused on her laptop to monitor the path their tornado took. No word left her pressed together lips, trying to drown out the feeling of his concerned eyes flickering towards her every few seconds. 
“(Y/n)?” The use of her name ripped (y/n) out of her trance, letting her wide pupils find his. She only nodded at Tyler, knowing she couldn’t waste any time on the crush she could never speak of, preferring to take her secret to the grave rather than feeding his ego–only to end up with a broken heart in the process. 
“Guys, can you hear me?” She held the radio close, speaking to the others while refocusing on the map. All they could hear was rustling, unable to pick up on the reply that was spoken on the other end. Curses clawed through (y/n), she tried to reach their teams again, while swallowing the sinking feeling growing in the pit of her stomach. No longer could she see them in the rearview mirror, telling her that they hadn’t made it down the narrow path Tyler had taken.
The road ahead was muddy, forcing the truck to slither along while Tyler tried to avoid holes and ditches. With one hand clutching the door, (y/n) tried to hold still, not daring to bump into Tyler whose angry cusses filled the truck. Both had their eyes focused ahead, knowing that this had been the wrong choice, the wrong tornado to chase. They were heading straight towards their death if they kept going that way, knowing that without their team by their side, they wouldn’t be able to collect enough data anyway. 
“I hate being the one to say it, but we gotta find shelter, lightning.” Tyler’s annoyed groans left her nodding, giving him the green light to take a sharp left to turn towards the town close by. With the slimmest chance to find proper shelter, Tyler kept speeding along, seemingly having a spot in mind. (Y/n) was angry, at herself, at the road conditions, knowing that this situation should have played out much differently. And all she could do was trust the man she had always tried to hate.
“Come, follow me.” The truck was forced to a sudden halt. (Y/n) followed Tyler outside, holding onto her things while he reached for her free hand to pull her along. He guided her towards what appeared to be a barn, a building she paid no attention to as she studied the tornado, getting lost in its beauty for a second. “They built an underground shelter here a few years back, if we’re lucky nobody else had the time to find it.”
Tyler pushed her into the unlocked barn, letting the doors slide close again before he led her down some stairs. She didn’t dare speak, torn between too many emotions. All (y/n) could do was let go of a sigh while being ushered into the empty, dark shelter. It took her a while to adjust to the darkness, letting her hands move along the metallic wall until she found what appeared to be a light switch. She gave it a try, though without any luck, letting herself drop to the ground while Tyler stayed glued to his spot. 
If both hadn’t been too deep in thought, they would have realised that this was the first time they were sheltering together, completely alone without any nosy eyes watching them or listening to their talks. 
“We should have gone west, I’m sorry.” Her whispers filled the small shelter, luring Tyler closer who plopped down next to her. He fumbled with his phone to turn on the fleshlight, letting it rest on the ground to alight their surroundings. A few boxes were placed against the wall, filled with water and some snacks they hopefully wouldn’t have to use, praying that they’d get out of here fast enough to chase their luck once again. 
“There’s always time for another try, pretty.” Tyler reached for her hand to squeeze it before he could stop himself, forcing her eyes to focus on the spot where she now felt a buzzing sensation. She let her head roll towards Tyler, studying the white hat he took off with his free hand, placing it down on the ground, only to comb through his hair. 
“Don’t think I’ve ever seen you without that thing on.” (Y/n)’s whispers left him chuckling, a sound that momentarily managed to drown out the roar of the tornado. The howling was an almost comforting sound to them, after years of chasing them, well aware of every little detail. 
“Well, you’re one of the few who gets the honour, appreciate it.” She rolled her eyes at him before ripping her gaze off of him. Heat flushed through her at his teasing, a heat that only grew more biting as she realised that they were still holding hands. Her tongue moved along her dry lips, trying to find the right words to break their silence, silently hoping that she could cherish every single second of their time together. As much as she had once sworn to hate him while burying her crush deep inside of herself, she had lost all strength to fight against it, at least for now.
“Why have we never done this before?” Tyler seemed to feel the same longing, drawing her focus back towards him with his question. His eyes had an even more piercing touch to them now, having an invisible tight grasp on her soul she didn’t want to escape from. 
“Because you’re an asshole most of the time and I can’t stand being around you for long.” (Y/n)’s sharp reply left him laughing, a loud sound that had an addicting effect on her, leaving her chuckling while shaking her head at the man. 
“You wound me, lightning. Here I was hoping you’d finally let me take you out on a date, once this day’s over.” No longer did she laugh, the sound was stuck in her throat all too suddenly.
Did he truly mean it? Was he planning on asking her out? Or was Tyler playing yet another game with her? 
“Don’t fuck with me, Owens.” His hand darted out to grasp her chin, forcing her to keep her focus on him before she could even try to turn away from him. For just a second, she watched his gaze flicker between her eyes and her slightly parted lips. Once again her heart was back to racing, no longer focused on the howling wind, the sounds of things crashing outside, but fully and solemnly focused on Tyler. 
“Are you scared of this thing between us?” Once again, his question managed to rob her of the air filling her lungs, not expecting him to be this direct with her. A part of (y/n) begged her to cuss him out, to make fun of the question, to escape the avalanche that was about to roll upon them, but the bigger - more desperate - part of her, managed to gain the upper hand, leading her straight towards danger.
“Well, even though you enjoy riding your fears, I prefer to face ‘em. I’m not scared, not of this, whatever this is. But I’m fucking terrified of you toying with me and dropping me the second I’m no longer interesting enough.” He let go of her, only to pull her into his lap, making her straddle his stretched out legs. They held eye contact, wordlessly daring one another to move first, to give in to the pull that was as strong as an F5 they’d happily chase on any other day. 
“I’d be fucking stupid to mess it up with you.” She felt his breath on her lips, ghosting over her soft skin like he was giving her one last chance to pull away. A chance she wouldn’t take, letting it pass while finding his lips for a soft kiss that escalated within seconds. With his hand pressed to the back of her head and his other placed on her waist, Tyler held her to him while deepening the kiss.
Their tongues fought for victory, knowing that neither of them would back down from a fight against the other, urged on by their need to gain the upper hand. Soft groans and moans left them while their bodies searched one another’s closeness, knowing that this was something they wouldn’t tell others about, preferring to keep this as their secret. 
Her hands roamed his clothed chest, feeling his muscles beneath her wandering fingers while finding her way to his belt. She toyed with the buckle for a moment while her lips were still glued to his, knowing they’d have to part any moment now to inhale some much needed breaths of air. 
“You sure you want to do this in here, lightning?” His chuckles left her grinning, while holding onto the question she had wanted to ask for a while now. 
“Why lightning?” A kiss was shared between them, much softer than the one before. Her hand was still toying with his belt, slowly undoing the buckle to wordlessly tell him she wanted this much as he did, even though they knew that it was stupid and selfish of them to hide out here while their teams were undoubtedly worrying about them. 
“Well, the first time I saw you, you struck me like lightning, brightening my darkest day.” The explanation was cheesy, and yet it still drew heat up her neck. She could only swallow, smile at him and refocus on her hands. Tyler let her move, freeing his hardening cock while his impatient hands tugged on the buttons of her blouse, letting it pop open to expose her bra-clad chest. 
“Fuck, you’re a dream.” Her eyes flickered up to his while she spat into her palm, using her saliva to lube him up. Tyler couldn’t stop his moans from clawing through him, fully focused on the way he perfectly fit into her hand, pressed against the soft skin he wanted to feel against every inch of his body. His head rolled back against the wall, eyes closed and lips parted – offering a sight that made her walls clench around nothing, proud for being the one to make him feel like that. 
Her hand added more speed to its movements, squeezing him with just enough pressure to draw another raspy moan from Tyler. He allowed himself to relish in her touch for another moment before he gently though urgently grasped her wrist to stop her from moving. 
“Will you ride me, lightning?” His accent grew thicker with every syllable, leaving her shuddering while only a soft chuckle managed to leave her. She rose to her feet to shuffle out of her jeans, keeping her eyes focused on Tyler who marvelled at her as if she was the strongest tornado he had ever been fortunate enough to see, fully mesmerised by everything about her. She kept her panties on while finding her way back to his lap, knowing that they needed to hit the road soon, not giving them a chance to do this properly. 
“Wait, here.” He reached for his back pocket to pull a condom out of his wallet, letting her rip it open to roll it down his aching cock. Both their hearts were beating in sync, knowing that they were finally about to do something they had been desperate for ever since running into one another for the first time. No matter how much anger and hatred had once grown between them, it was now turning them from opponents to lovers–or whatever it was both were trying to adjust to. 
Tyler held onto her as she sank down on him, letting her forehead fall against his shoulder for a second. No words were spoken while they had to adjust, overwhelmed by the new sensation and the whirlwind of emotions buzzing through them like a storm hitting them both. With her hands holding onto him, clinging to the fabric of the shirt he wore, she began to move, fucking herself on his twitching cock with such a passion, Tyler feared he may never want to get out of this shelter again. 
“Tyler,” his name left her, a breathy whisper he almost missed, too far gone to focus on anything but their closeness. He palmed her ass, letting his fingertips dig into her skin to leave marks that would remind her of this very moment for days to come. His hips met hers, jerking upwards to make his cock disappear inside of her even deeper, drawing desperate moans from them which dripped with a need for more. 
“Attagirl, look at you, fucking yourself on my cock like you were born for this.” She moaned at his words, knowing that her thighs would start aching soon enough, begging for a new position to give herself the needed push to fall over the edge. “What? You’re already getting tired? I should have fucked you in my truck, make you scream my name while the world’s ending around us.” 
He pushed her off of him without a warning, leaving her dazed and confused for a second while watching him rise to his feet. With a hand stretched out for (y/n) to take, he pulled her up towards him–only to pick her up and press her against the wall. His cock was pushed back into her, stretching her walls while he fucked her with a fast pace that made both of them see stars. 
(Y/n) clawed at his neck, needing to hold onto him while he fucked her closer and closer to the edge. A cocky grin widened on his lips as he felt her walls tightening their grip on his cock. She was close, would let go soon with his name burning on the tip of her tongue, a perfect reminder that she was his from today on, glued to the man who she had once sworn to hate. 
“Scream my name, lightning, show them what a real thunderstorm sounds like.” If he weren’t buried deep inside of her, she would have rolled her eyes at him. But (y/n) was too far gone to care about his cheesy teasing, solemnly focused on her arising high and the name rolling off her tongue like a prayer.
And then she came, pushed into an orgasm so strong, (y/n) feared she’d never experience something like this again. It buzzed through every part of her body, stealing her breath as if she was drowning, forcing her heart to skip beats as if she was chased by someone or rather something. Tyler kept fucking her against the wall, urged on by her moans, the sounds he’d never forget again. 
Pants kept leaving him while chasing his own high, letting his skin meet hers with every ferocious thrust. And with one last “Fuck” Tyler came, relieving himself into the condom as his smirk returned to his lips. Both were heavily breathing, clinging to the other while coming down from their highs.
“I don’t know if I can walk back to the truck.” Carefully, he placed (y/n) back down on her feet, shaking his head at her with a soft smile thrown her way. Tyler pressed another kiss to her slightly swollen lips before both redressed, knowing that they had to get out of here and back to their team as fast as possible. 
“You know I’ll gladly carry you, lightning. I always will, if you let me.”
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notquitecanon · 7 months ago
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Keep talking // Simon “Ghost” Riley x reader
Summary: Simon really likes your new sundress AND wants to hear about your day. These things can coexist
Tags: established relationship, pretty domestic, yapper wife x silent husband, sunshine x grumpy kinda??? Whatever tropes the kids are saying these days suggestive but not NSFT, dumbification if you really squint, husband Simon Riley, pg-13 at worst
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Simon was staring at you. Intensely. Him staring wasn’t exactly a new thing, he was a silent creature by nature. He watched, he listened. Especially to you. He loved listening to you.
You’d barely noticed his intense gaze as you flitted about the kitchen of your shared home, putting away the things you’d bought while you’d been out, all the while chittering on about your day, the people you talked to, the things you’d seen, things you’d bought, things you’d almost bought, things you didn’t buy, what you had for lunch, what you were thinking for dinner… And Simon listened like always, absorbing your presence like a plant absorbs sunlight.
Anyone else would have been cowed under the weight of his stare, but not you. Not only were you used to it, you loved having his attention. Every now and then you’d offer him a sweet smile when you looked to him or press a kiss to his cheek or jaw or wherever you could reach easiest as you’d squeeze past where he was leaning against the kitchen counter, absolutely dwarfing the appliances. His face gave away nothing, it never did so you kept talking- yapping, you’d call it jokingly.
“Anyways, that’s when I told her-“
“New dress, love?”
His interruption cut you off. You set down the purse you were unpacking and looked to him as you trailed off.
“Hm?”
Simon kicked off the counter, closing the short distance. It was then you noticed that his eyes weren’t on your face or eyes or even lips, but instead tracing the line of the strap laying on your shoulder.
“‘aven’t seen that one. Is it new?” His eyes roamed to the skirt where his fingers had caught a sliver of the bow in the back, “Soft.”
You cleared your throat as you turned around to face him, “I got it a few weeks ago, since it’s getting hotter, sun dress season and all, but it might be a little much for running around town…guess you haven’t seen it though-“
You cut yourself off again when you felt the tension in the tied back slack. The snapped your eyes to Simon, realizing he hadn’t dropped the bow’s string as you turned.
“I’d remember this one, lovie.” He was still gazing at the hem line appreciatively, where the delicate pattern you loved so much revealed your thighs.
“Well, then it’s new to you.” Your voice was quieter now that you’d realized the specific intensity in his gaze. Simon grunted in response, his large calloused hands resting at your hips. You could feel the roughness and warmth through the thin summer fabric.
“You were saying?” He reminded you with a slight smirk, knowing he’d derailed your train of thought. Cheeky bastard.
“Oh, uh,” You started again, preoccupied with the little circles he was rubbing on your hips, “I told her that, well, that-“
Simon nodded along to your barely coherent dialogue, as if he was listening to a TED talk. Heat was rising up your chest and neck as the solider kept getting closer until your chests were basically flush and your legs were interlocked, your chatting was only slightly better than babbling but you continued choking through your story. Even when he’d slowly moved you backwards so that you were the one pressed against the counter. You hadn’t realized you stopped once again until his brows raised, “that all?”
“Si-“ You all but whined, sharply gasping when he suddenly and effortlessly lifted you unto the kitchen counter, the stone counter chilling the backs of your thighs. Even sat on the tall counters, you still only came up to his broad chest, “We have your friends coming later-“
“And I cleaned up the yard just like you asked, love. Wearing this dress tonight?” Simon questioned gruffly, brushing a kiss first across the top of your head and then leaning down to dust a trail of kisses down your neck.
“What? Probably- but” you stuttered, the heat of his breath making it hard to track the different tracks of conversation.
“Good, does this come in any other colors?” His questions almost fell on deaf ears as he brushed the straps off your shoulders so he could continue his path down your chest. The hands on your hips had traveled first to your knees and were slowly hiking the hemline of your dress up. He paused when you didn’t answer, cutting those sharp eyes up to yours, squeezing your thigh to get your focus back on him and not just his hands. You hummed in confusion, “colors, love?”
“Oh, uh, a couple I think,” you nodded as the squeeze to your thigh turned to a kneading moving further up, “I wanted to try one, but it was hard to decide-“
Simon was sinking to his knees in front of you, never breaking eye contact, “Keep talking, love. I’m listening.”
Simon was a hard man to say no to, so you kept talking. Jumping from thought to thought as they became fewer and farther between, a hand in his hair to ground yourself as he’d offer questions from between your legs until you could no longer say anything but his name.
___
I wrote this in 20 minutes on an airplane. It’s not proofread nor is it really in character. First time writing for COD but hopefully not the last… we shall see where the hyperfixation takes me
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ferrarifinnick · 12 days ago
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BE CAREFUL WHAT YOU WISH FOR | KANG DAE-HO (PLAYER 388)
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pairing: dom!dae-ho x reader
genre: smut (18+) summary: a little stunt during family dinner brings out a side of dae-ho you’ve never seen before. warnings: pda, voyerism, teasing, p in v, brat taming, sub/dom, handjob, dirty talk, overstimulation, car sex. 1.2k
dae-ho was never one to turn down dinner with your parents. he had perfected the art of impressing your dad and flattering your mother, and tonight was no different. dae-ho shook your father’s hand, called him sir, and spent the whole evening attentively listening to his every word over dinner made by your mother. he nodded along, asked informed questions, and kept a perfectly straight face while you jerked him off under the dinner table.
“what were you saying about the — unngh,” he suddenly grunted as you squeezed his shaft. he quickly feigned a string of coughs, reaching for a glass of water while gesturing to his neck with a flustered wave of his hand.
your mother gasped. “oh, dear! let’s get you some more water,” she said, standing up from her seat to reach for the jug of water in the middle of the table.
“no!” dae-ho blurted out, pulling a napkin over his lap in an attempt to conceal your hand in his suit trousers. he quickly adjusted his alarm into a charming smile that convinced your mother to sink back into her seat. “thank you,” he said. “but it’s alright now. must’ve swallowed some of this delicious beef the wrong way!” he joked, chuckling heartily as your mother fawned.
“oh!” she said, flattered. “well, it’s just something i put together quickly…”
your father scoffed. “don’t listen to her, dae-ho. she’s been braising this beef all day, haven’t you honey?”
dae-ho seized another chunk of it in his chopsticks while your mother blushed. “well, that is clear in its flavour,” he said sweetly, then glanced to your father to add, “let’s hope i make it to the end of the meal, shall we?” he joked, and your father’s hearty laugh drown out the sharp breaths you pulled form dae-ho as you massaged his cock in your fist.
he shot you a warning glare while your parents were distracted in conversation.
at the end of the evening, after finishing your meal and enjoying some chatter over glasses of wine, dae-ho bid farewell to your parents by the door.
“thank you for a wonderful evening,” he said as your mother pulled him into a hug.
she kissed his cheek. “we always welcome your company, dae-ho,” she said, pinching his cheek affectionately. “such a pleasure to cook for.”
your father agreed, clasping dae-ho’s hand in a firm shake. “do come again soon.”
dae-ho’s eyes widened, and you knew by the redness flooding his cheeks that he is thinking about the sticky cum in his boxers. the situation you caused. he shot you a quick glance as the little giggle slipped from your lips, and while the dark flash of warning in his eyes went unnoticed by your parents, it’s didn’t to you.
he opened his arms. while you often savoured the security that came with the size of his muscles, it’s rare you’re intimidated by them. by the power they had over you. inching closer and pressing yourself against his chest, you’re squeezed flush against him as his arms wrapped around you.
he said your name. it dripped with tension, but it’s still intense with the affection you were so accustomed to. “it’s always lovely seeing you,” he said and leaned down to bury his face in your hair. his breath burned your skin, and you were suddenly aware of just hot quickly his heart was beating. how tense his muscles felt under yours.
you had really done it tonight. you had pushed him too far and found the side of dae-ho that rarely surfaced. the side that liked to punish you in the one way that’ll teach you never to misbehave again. frighteningly, and just a little bit thrillingly, you knew you would soon learn your lesson.
“did you enjoy your fun this evening?” he asked innocently enough, but it’s laced with so much meaning that a chill ran down your back.
you nodded cautiously. “i did,” you said, your hands hesitantly resting on his back. it suddenly felt so broad under your touch, and even as you slid them higher, all you discovered was more muscle under his shirt.
his lips brushed against the shell of your ear. you flinched into his hold, and his big arms held you steady, trapped you in his embrace. in his trap. exactly where he wanted you to be.
quiet enough for only you to hear, lips shielded from your parents in your hair, he whispered to you. “meet me in my car.”
with that, he pulled away and the warmth returned to his chipper demeanour as he waved you all farewell one last time. as your dad showed him out the door, he sent you one last look, before walking down the driveway. his car keys jingled purposefully with every step.
your reminder.
the front door closed, and your parents poured one final glass of wine before disappearing into the living room. you waited until they became engrossed in what was playing on the television, before quietly slipping out the front door, closing it with a soft click.
the headlights were already on, the passenger door popped open for you, and dae-ho wasted no time in driving out of your street. he parked up in a lonely alleyway nobody would ever use so late at night, and the second the ignition shut off, he pounced.
you had never had such a good view of the backseats as you did now with your face pressed against them, cheek raw as it brushed across the surface with every blow of dae-ho’s hips.
“is this what you wanted?” he grunted, one hand on the arch of your back, the other pushing your head down. “to get fucked like a little bitch in the back of my car?”
you cried as he delivered a thrust that reached so deep into your pussy you could swear it hit your cervix. he held you still as you struggled underneath him, his amusement coming out in a breathy scoff. you could only imagine the smug grin on his face.
“oh, is it too much, baby?” he cooed. “my dick too big for you, huh?”
the blow of his hips, the small but effective increase in his pace forcing the sob to bubble out of your throat. “yes!” you cried, and you didn’t know if you were answering him or asking for more.
“too bad,” he taunted, forcing his cock in even deeper. he slowly shifted more of his weight onto you, and the strangled groan he pulled from you only encouraged the speed of his thrusts. “you asked for this.”
he drove your body forward with each blow of his hips, and even as your body convulsed under his, he didn’t ease his pace. he fucked into you until you saw stars, and even as you clamped down and released on his cock, he didn’t stop. he rode you through your high and took you all the way to the next one, until your tears rolled down your cheeks and your arousal down your legs.
“what’s the matter, baby?” he asked from behind, drops of his sweat landing on the arch of your back. “isn’t this what you wanted?”
backseat loving with dae-ho…dreamy. please like, comment, reblog. love <33
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st7rnioioss · 1 month ago
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omggg can u please do bestfriend chris guiding inexperienced reader through how to give a bj and she ends up doing it on him and is rlly good at it please???
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Ꮺ ָ࣪ ۰ ͙ INEXPERIENCED!READER GIVING BSF!CHRIS HEAD FOR THE FIRST TIME
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˚𝜗𝜚 warnings... oral (m recieving), pulling on hair (kinda?), not proofread!
chris’s knuckles carefully caressed the skin of your cheek, looking down at you with a reassuring, but somewhat playful smile.
“it’ll be fine. come on, i’ll guide you, yeah? no need to worry,” his voice sounded, only making you even more nervous.
you were sat on your knees between his legs, chris sitting in his gamer chair while you nervously fiddled with the strings of his pants, only making chris’s head spin even more.
“but.. but i don’t know what to do. what if i do it wrong? and it doesn’t feel good?” you mewled, looking down at your hands weakly reaching for the waistband of his sweatpants.
“i’ll tell you then, to make sure it does. okay? i promise, it won’t be as scary as you think it is,” he continued to stroke your cheek, before his whole hand cupped your face, making you meet his eyes.
he smiled softly at your somewhat nervous expression, giving your cheek a gentle pat when you hooked your fingers over the waistband.
“okay.. i’ll try then..” your voice was almost a whisper, dragging his pants down to his thighs, staring at the tent in his boxers.
“i-is that..” you mumbled while pointing, before looking back up at chris. “yup. that’s from you baby,” he snickered, while watching you nod and continued to tug on his boxers.
carefully, you pulled his boxers down to pool with his sweatpants, basically staring at his hardening cock.
“come on.. don’t act like you haven’t seen it before,” he chuckled, guiding your face up to look at him instead, his thumbs moving across your cheek.
you knew he was right, but being this close weirdly felt way more.. intimate.
“sorry.. okay, i’ll try..” you nodded slowly, before breaking off the eye contact, clearing your throat in a nervous manner.
gently, you reached out to wrap your hand around his dick, watching the way he almost twitched from the feeling. continuing, you started stroking him up and down, but at a slow pace. chris threw his head back against the chair, eyes shut while letting out a few groans.
taking his reaction as a sign to keep going, your hand sped up its pace, before shuffling closer, your knees digging into the floor.
when your pace faltered, chris looked back down at you, guiding your face closer to him, while the other one made its way into your hair.
you parted your lips just enough to allow your tongue out, leaving short kitty-licks to his tip, a muffled whimper coming from his mouth.
feeling a sense of confidence from his reaction, swirling your tongue around his tip, just to see if that would get the same reaction from him.
“oh- oh god..” his fingers tightened their grip on your hair just slightly, before loosening again, careful not to hurt you or be too rough.
“d-does that feel.. okay?” you quipped, looking up at him through your lashes, carefully twisting your hand around his rock-hard dick.
he nearly came when you spoke and looked up at him like that, so innocent yet doing something so sinful.
he huffed out a laugh, his hand on your cheek tilting your head up while you batted your eyes at him.
“you have no idea.. just keep going, yeah? i’ll let you know..” he spoke softly, guiding you back to his cock.
“okay..” muttered, your hand continuing its previous languid strokes.
he threw his head back again, eyes rolling to the back of his head before they fluttered shut, your tongue reconnecting to his tip, carefully swirling the muscle around his slit like before.
chris had to restrain himself from bucking his hips up, shoving his dick down your throat. but he kept his calm, letting out breathy pants.
looking up at him, watching his expression, you wrapped your lips around the head of his cock, carefully attempting to take more of him.
his eyes batted open, nearly spilling his cum down your throat at the sight. you had your eyes on his, those pretty, innocent eyes.
a soft hue of pink dusted across his cheeks, lips parted and open while letting out a choked groan. leisurely you attempting to take more of him, parting your lips further while your tongue ran down the underside of his cock.
“holy fuck. y’sure you’ve never d-done this?” he moaned, both his hands now in your hair, tightening their hold on your locks.
you went to speak, but it came out as muffled babbling, the vibration of your attempted words sending a shiver straight up his spine.
“o-oh, jesus christ,” he whimpered when your lips made their way further down his cock, causing a quiet gag to slip from your lips, drool pooling around his shaft.
chris was near ecstasy, cheeks flushed, a slight layer of sweat beading across his forehead, and his chest heaving while he shut his eyes. he couldn’t look, he couldn’t—unless he wanted to cum on the spot.
he was in disbelief, he almost couldn’t comprehend you’d never done anything close to this. you bobbed your head as much as you could, your hand stroking the part of his cock you couldn’t reach, tears prickling in the corners of your eyes.
“fuuuckk.. feels s’good. k-keep goin’ baby, m’almost there..” his voice was strained, groan after groan spilling from his parted, swollen lips, looking down at you with lidded eyes.
you couldn’t stop the tears from trickling from your waterline, the head of his cock continuously prodding at the back of your throat just barely. his hand cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing some of the tears away.
“oh, don’t cry darling.. its okay,“ he mewled, watching as you pulled back to properly breathe for a moment, your lips still attached to his tip.
“b-baby, i’m gonna cum..” he mumbled when he felt your mouth envelop his cock again, your nails of your free hand digging into his thigh, both his hands stuck in your hair while bucking his hips.
“s-sorry.. you don’t have- have to.. fuck!” he groaned, trying his best to hold back, but it was hard not to. he didn’t want to immediately cum down your throat, in case you didn’t want to.
yet, your tongue ran across the underside of his shaft, his cock twitching in your throat when he let out a particularly loud whimper, listening to the lewd and wet noises of spit, creating a squelching sound.
you wanted to, you could tell you were doing good from his hips bucking up to meet your throat, his fingers entangled in your hair.
“i-i’m gonna cum- oh fuck..” he moaned through gritted teeth, giving your cheek a gentle pat as if to tell you to pull off—which you didn’t.
the back of his head met the chair once more, loosening his grip on your completely when he spilled his cum down your throat while letting out pants of your name.
with a gag, you pulled off his cock, spit pooling down and around his dick, mixing with his own release, your hand still around his shaft.
“oh my god.. that- that.. and you’re sure you’ve never..?” he nearly gasped, short of breath, his hands letting go of your face and hair to rest on his thigh, watching as you let go of his cock.
he watched your face twist in a sort of unpleasant manner while shaking your head, before bringing his hand to you mouth in a cup-like shape.
attentively, you spit his release out in his hand, a nervous chuckle following.
“s-sorry, i didn’t really- i couldn’t..” you rambled, looking back up at him for a moment, your cheeks as pink as his.
he shook it off, his free hand cupping your chin. “don’t worry about it.. c-can’t believe you just did that.” he murmured, giving your chin a gently pat.
“w-was.. was it okay?” you asked quietly, keeping your wide eyes on his. chris let out a laugh, leaving a perplexed look on your face.
“i think we should try again sometime, just to make sure you got the hang of it,” he joked playfully, his thumb tracing your bottom lip.
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more bsf!chris x inexperienced!reader
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𝜗𝜚˚࿔ notes: thank you for the req!! i love this au sm
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۶ৎ taglist: @jetaimevous @missmimii @mattscoquette @pearlzier @witchofthehour @elizasturn @loveparqdise @delilahsturniolo @phone4pills @sturnsmia @hearts4werka @cayleeuhithinknott @strnilolover @sturnvxz @lovergirl4gracieabrams @ifwdominicfike @toftomgmf @emely9274 @sturnioloangell @blushsturns @forgottxen @slut4chris888 @marrykisskilled @sophand4n4 @sturnihoelooo @unknvhx @chrisslut04 @sturniolossss @slvtf0rchr1s @blahbel668 @stir-knee-o-low @miolos @user1smvtysturniolo @lizzyzzn @sturnslutz
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© ST7RNIOIOSS est. 2023
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haisuken · 1 year ago
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long day 👍🏽
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cathnospam · 3 months ago
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Trigger warning to those that don’t like panic attacks, but becomes fluffy at the end
“Katsuki?”
His eyes were dark, he looks like he haven’t slept in weeks, and it’s only been a year since the war ended. Granted, everybody was finally able to sleep regularly again, but apparently you must have been wrong.
“I—“
He couldn’t get the words out, his fits were shaking from how hard we was clenching them, his tired eyes began to water, you knew.
“C’mere.” You pull him into your arms, you feel your shoulder dampening and it was a signal for you to squeeze tighter once you shut your door. You couldn’t even move feeling his arms squeeze tighter against your waist. “I’m right here.”
Even though Bakugo managed to live. Managed to pass though rehab, managed to become a big part of fighting against AFO he still has nightmares.
They started off as just seeing himself nearly die but he wakes up right before it happens. But now he’s having nightmares about you. How you took his place instead of him.
This nightmare he seen your body, lying there, tears dried by your eyes, by the time bakugo ran to you Shigiraki turned your body into dust.
It was horrifying.
He woke up in a frenzy, hot, sweating, immediately running out his room to your dorm, his heavy feet nearly sprinting to your room he needed to just double check he almost bust down your door if you haven’t opened it right as he arrived.
“You—-“
“It’s okay….you’re okay—“
“BUT YOU WEREN’T…you…you….” His voice was so shattered. He couldn’t explain it to you, but you had an inkling what he could’ve meant.
He has been going to your dorm a lot lately. Using the excuse “I’m just checking up on YOU.” But in reality it’s you checking on him. He’ll come right before bed and sleep over or come in while you’re sleep and lay on your couch and once with you on the opposite side of your bed.
You couldn’t move, hearing his sniffles tore your heart a little, his breathing was shallow you could feel his heart rate grow faster, his body was shaking and you immediately began to fall on your knees, back on the wall rubbing his back .”I’m right here Katsuki…it’s okay just match my breathing.”
Not wanting to panic either you regulated your breathing for him to copy you, his teeth were gritting to hard you felt it against your shoulder, “C’mon there you go…..just breathe….”
After a few minutes He began to calm down. Your shirt was damp with tears but you knew better than to force him to look at you. So you waited until he did the first move.
Bakugo covered his face with his palm, pausing before attempting to wipe all his tears off his face.
He failed.
You took his hand, palms so sweaty it was nearly slippery to hold up with a firm grip you guided him to your bed. “Stay here tonight.”
He didn’t reply nor negate, he just followed suit. He’d usually have his back facing you, but felt himself willingly fall onto your chest.
“They’re soft right?” You weakly joke about your breast he is laid on, trying to see if he’ll respond, you smile hearing a weak chuckle come out his nose before he snuggles himself between them deeper.
Your fingers run though his soft hair, his heartbeat was in tandem with yours as you felt his chest against your belly.
Bakugo usually handles his panic attacks alone, but for the first time he actually was so happy to have someone like you there with him. His teary eye peaks from the side, you wipe the remnant of tears from his cheek and he nearly melts to your touch.
It was probably the best sleep he has ever had in months thanks to you.
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beloveds-embrace · 3 months ago
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Part two of monster!141 x chubby reader
Part One.
CW: reader isn’t in a good place mentally and it’s affecting her reactions and the 141 absolutely take advantage of it. This is definitely not accurate in terms of reality. Reader has a lot of self-esteem issues, especially regarding her weight.
The thing is, you know you should be panicking way more. You know you should be fighting back, trying to think of an escape plan.
But you don’t. Exhaustion clings to you like a second skin, and you simply decide you don’t have any energy to do anything much- especially against shifters twice your size at the minimum. If they want to kill you, so be it. You doubt there’d be anyone to miss you; your parents only ever cared about your other siblings, your friends weren’t exactly your friends apparently, and you ex…
“Penny for your thoughts, dove?” The harpy whose lap you are perched on murmurs, wings fluffing out around you, the feathers soft and warm. You haven’t been on any couches or cushions ever since you woke up here, always in one of their laps. You had been terrified at first, and fear still lingers even now, but all they do is hold you tight and occasionally sniff you. Nothing more.
“Not worth much.” You whisper, closing your eyes as you take a deep breath. The feathers around you rustle again, tickling your skin ever so slightly, and you can feel him nuzzle the crown of your head.
“I disagree,” Kyle says, voice musing.. The arms wound around your waist tighten, and you are pulled impossibly closer to him. Your head still finds it hard to believe just how strong they are- easily maneuvering someone even of your size like your weigh nothing. Your ex never bothered; often just made a passing mention that maybe he’d carry you like that if you hit the gym and lost a few pounds. “Worth quite a lot to me. To us.”
You don’t have a reply to that; it’s still weird and unbelievable to you. Soulmates. What a joke. Even if they existed, you doubted anyone would like you like this. Not to mention the soulmate of a harpy, a werewolf, a dragon and a wraith? It sounded like a crappy plot you’d find while scouring the internet, written by a college student driven insane in their last year.
But they insisted they were right, and refuse to let you go, and now here you are being cuddled to one of them while the other three thud about upstairs. You can hear their voices, but not what they are saying. Though it sounds like they are quite busy.
“You cold, dove?” Kyle asks when he feels you shudder again, at last wrapping his wings fully around you even before you can answer. The feathers are so soft, and he smells so nice, like jasmine and vanilla. You almost felt hungry, simply smelling him.
“No.” The answer is quiet, croaked out tiredly. Sleep tugs at you even though it hasn’t been that long since you’ve woken up, the pounding, hungover headache long since dissipated.
You hate this syrupy slowness that lets you remain snuggled against him. You hate how safe you feel, despite your mind screaming at you otherwise. You don’t know these men, don’t know anything about them except their names, and yet your body has never felt quite this comfortable.
“Sleep, precious.” Kyle croons, his hand rubbing down your back. He buries his face in your hair, still crooning, and leaves a trail of kisses across your temple. “Sleep. You are safest and soundest here, with us.”
And so your eyes flutter shut, and your breath evens out; sleep comes to you as easy as breathing, and for one, ephemeral second, you don’t worry about your weight being too much for him.
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theetherealbloom · 3 months ago
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Don't Stop Talking To Me, And Maybe Stay Here Forever
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Summary: You join Pedro Pascal in Morocco while he’s filming Gladiator 2. Between the beauty of the Moroccan landscape, the two of you share intimate moments, from quiet rooftop dinners to playful photo-taking and teasing with the cast.
Or… “I'll hold you, I'll know you. I'll never leave out the back door. And I'd love to complete you, hope you get all you could ask for.”
I just read your latest pedro fic it was the BEST DAMN THING i’ve ever read, my heart is going to burst out of my chest from all the butterflies 🦋🫠❤️ will you write more for pedro? perhaps his gf could visit him in marocco or something while he’s filming gladiator and to meet everyone from set and maybe have some alone quality time? :3 just a suggestion 😌 anyways have a lovely dayyy ^^ — anon
Paring: Pedro Pascal x F!Reader
Warnings: Established Relationship, Age-Gap(ish), TOOTH-ROTTING FLUFF, Slight Angst, Swearing, Anxiety, Cheesy Dialogue, Cuddling, Romance, Kissing, Real People Fiction, Cameras, Social Media, Embarrassment, Teasing, Shower, Slight Nudity, Make Out Session, Celebrities
Word Count: 5.7k
A/N: Okay, so, we’ve all seen the photo dumps!??!! Yes! GREAT! I haven’t watched Gladiator 2 cause it isn’t out yet in my country, so there’ll be no spoilers here mhmhmhmhm. I’m just gonna make stuff up based on the pictures Pedro posted on his Instagram lol. And again, this is all made-up, fictional, self-indulgent vibes so pls no one come after me ahhhhhh T^T
Also lowkey, I can see multiple parts to this so… stay tuned.
Side note: I’m dyslexic and English isn’t my first language! So I apologize in advance for the spelling and/or grammatical errors. As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated. Thank you and happy reading!
Songs: Packing It Up by Gracie Abrams, this is how you fall in love by Jeremy Zucker and Chelsea Cutler
gif by @a7estrellas
→ Next Chapter | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist |
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OUARZAZATE, MOROCCO — DAY
The warm Moroccan breeze kissed your skin as you stepped onto the bustling set of Gladiator 2. Pedro’s laughter echoed from somewhere nearby, his distinct voice easy to pick out over the hum of activity. Your heart swelled just hearing it. He was always magnetic, but here—working, immersed in a world of creativity and camaraderie—he was luminous.  
You adjusted your sunglasses, feeling both excited and slightly anxious. Meeting Pedro’s castmates felt like stepping into his other life, one where you weren’t the center of his world but a welcome visitor orbiting it. He’d reassured you endlessly. “They’ll love you. I mean, how could they not?” But still, nerves lingered.  
“Mi amor!” Pedro’s voice cut through your thoughts. He emerged from behind a cluster of tents, his smile so wide it could eclipse the Moroccan sun.  
“Hey, stranger.” You grinned, letting him sweep you into a tight hug.  
He pulled back just enough to press a kiss to your forehead, his arms still firmly around your waist. “You made it,” he whispered, his lips brushing your temple.  
“Of course, I made it,” you teased, tilting your head to look up at him. “I missed you too much to stay away.”  
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The day unfolded in bursts of joy.  
Pedro introduced you to Coco Ullrich, Paul Mescal, and the rest of the cast. Everyone was warm and welcoming, their teasing camaraderie quickly drawing you in. Pedro stayed close, his hand finding yours at every opportunity, like he couldn’t stand to be too far away.  
Later, you found yourself perched on a stool in the makeup trailer, Pedro sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of you. “Hold still,” you said, trying to fix his disheveled hair.  
Coco stood nearby, laughing as Pedro playfully swatted at your hands. “I’m serious, guapo! You’ll go out there looking like you just rolled out of bed.”  
“Maybe I did roll out of bed,” he quipped, grinning.  
You raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t, but if you keep squirming, I’m going to make sure you look like it.”  
Coco shook her head, still laughing. “I don’t know how you put up with him.”  
“I have my ways,” you said, giving Pedro a mock glare.  
Pedro leaned closer, his eyes softening. “You’re lucky I love you,” he murmured, his lips brushing yours before you could stop him.  
“Pedro!” you protested, laughing as he pulled you into a full kiss, distracting you from your task.  
“Hopeless,” Coco muttered, snapping a quick photo of the moment.  
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OUARZAZATE, MOROCCO — SUNSET
The Moroccan sunset painted the sky in hues of gold and rose as you, Pedro, and the cast settled onto the soft blankets laid out for an impromptu picnic. The sprawling desert seemed to stretch infinitely, its serene stillness a striking contrast to the chaotic energy of the set. A light breeze rustled through the palm trees in the distance, carrying the faint sound of laughter and the clinking of glasses.
Pedro sat behind you, his arms comfortably wrapped around your waist as you leaned back into his chest. His fingertips absentmindedly traced small, lazy circles on your bare skin where your shirt had ridden up slightly. It was a touch that grounded you, soothing and sweet, and yet it made your heart ache with affection.
“This is perfect,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper, as if saying it louder might shatter the fragile beauty of the moment.
Pedro leaned closer, his lips brushing your ear. “No, you’re perfect,” he said softly, his voice laced with adoration.
You turned your head to look at him, catching the warmth in his gaze. He looked at you like you hung the very stars above, and your cheeks flushed. “Cheesy,” you teased, though you couldn’t keep the smile off your face.
“Honest,” he countered, leaning down to press his forehead against yours. His nose nudged yours affectionately, and for a moment, the world narrowed to just the two of you.
Paul Mescal, lounging nearby with a bottle of something cold in his hand, cleared his throat dramatically. “Alright, lovebirds, can you save the smoldering for the cameras? Some of us are trying to enjoy the sunset without third-wheeling your Notebook audition.”
Coco Ullrich snorted from her spot on the blanket, where she was busy assembling a makeshift charcuterie board. “Please, Paul, don’t act like you’re not taking notes for your own love scenes.”
Paul shot her a deadpan look. “What’s there to take notes on? I’m already perfect.”
“Debatable,” Coco quipped, popping a grape into her mouth and grinning.  
Pedro chuckled, his chest rumbling against your back. “Paul, don’t be jealous. You already found someone who tolerates you.”  
“Oh, I’m not jealous,” Paul said, gesturing between you and Pedro. “I’m inspired. The level of clinginess you two have achieved—it’s an art form.”  
“Clinginess?” you repeated, raising an eyebrow.  
“Yes, clinginess,” Paul said, smirking. “He hasn’t let go of you since you got here. It’s like watching a koala in human form.”
Coco leaned in conspiratorially. “Do you think he’d survive a day without her?”  
“Doubtful,” Paul replied, his tone grave.  
Pedro shook his head, his arms tightening around you playfully. “Let them joke,” he said into your ear, his voice a low murmur. “They’re just bitter they don’t have their partners to hold them while they complain about the heat.”  
You turned your head slightly to whisper back, “I think they’re projecting.”  
Pedro laughed, loud and unabashed, and the sound sent warmth flooding through you.  
“Alright, enough roasting Pedro,” Coco said, waving her hands. “Let’s focus on the important stuff—like this cheese board I’m absolutely nailing.”
“Coco, you put a block of cheese next to some crackers,” Paul pointed out.  
“And yet, it’s still better than anything you’ve contributed,” she shot back.
You couldn’t help but laugh as they continued to bicker, the dynamic between the cast a perfect blend of teasing and genuine affection. It felt good to be a part of this world for a little while, to see Pedro in his element and to share these small, beautiful moments with the people who meant so much to him.  
As the sun dipped lower, painting the sky with deeper hues of crimson and violet, Pedro shifted slightly behind you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “You doing okay, sweetheart?” he asked softly, his voice meant just for you.
“I’m better than okay,” you said, turning your face to his. “This is one of those moments I’ll never forget.”
“Same,” he replied, his eyes searching yours. “But mostly because you’re here.”
Paul groaned from across the blanket. “Seriously, someone hand me a bucket. I can’t handle this level of sap.”
“You’re just missing Gracie,” Coco teased, tossing a cracker at Paul with a sly grin.  
Paul caught it mid-air with a dramatic flourish. “She’s the love of my life, thank you very much. I’m thriving, just long-distance thriving.” His wide smile softened slightly, a dreamy look crossing his face.  
Pedro chuckled, resting his chin on your shoulder as he held you closer. “See, even Paul can be romantic. It’s not just us being disgustingly in love.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Paul said, waving him off, though the grin never left his face. “But you two are setting the bar impossibly high. Stop making the rest of us look bad.”
Coco shook her head with mock exasperation. “Let’s face it, no one can compete with Pedro’s clingy koala act.”  
“Hey, it’s not clingy if it’s mutual,” you chimed in, leaning back into Pedro’s embrace.  
“Exactly!” Pedro said, kissing the side of your neck for emphasis. “This is just... efficient affection.”  
“Efficient affection?” Coco repeated, laughing so hard she nearly knocked over the cheese board. “That’s the worst excuse I’ve ever heard.”
Pedro shrugged, utterly unbothered, his lips brushing your temple as he murmured, “Don’t let them ruin this for us.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” you whispered back, tilting your head to press a soft kiss to his jaw.  
The first stars began to dot the darkening sky, their glow faint but steady against the fading hues of gold and rose. The laughter of the group blended with the soothing whisper of the desert breeze, wrapping the evening in a cocoon of warmth and love.
You let out a contented sigh, your fingers intertwining with Pedro’s. These moments—filled with jokes, tenderness, and the quiet magic of a Moroccan sunset—were the kind you knew you’d carry with you forever.
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THE NEXT DAY
OUARZAZATE, MOROCCO – AFTERNOON  
The afternoon sun hung low in the sky, casting warm golden light over the sprawling desert set. The faint hum of activity outside the large tent provided a calming backdrop as you and Pedro sat together, stealing a moment away from the chaos of production.  
Pedro’s lap had become your designated resting place, his arms wrapped snugly around your waist as you leaned into him. You had been quietly chatting about the day—how stunning the desert looked on camera, how Paul had stolen one of Coco’s snacks during a break—when the warmth of the afternoon began to lull you both into sleep.  
His hand moved lazily up and down your back, the motion soothing as his voice grew quieter, more relaxed. “You know,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your temple, “this might be my favorite part of the day.”  
“Falling asleep during work?” you teased, your voice soft and playful.  
“Falling asleep with you,” he corrected, his smile audible in his words.  
It wasn’t long before exhaustion claimed you both, your head tucked under his chin and his cheek resting against your hair. The quiet hum of the tent became a comforting cocoon, and time seemed to stretch and blur.  
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The sound of muffled laughter stirred you from sleep, pulling you out of the warm haze. You blinked against the light, realizing you were still tucked into Pedro’s chest, his arms holding you close even as he began to wake.  
“Don’t move,” a familiar voice called. You turned your head to see Paul Mescal standing a few feet away, phone in hand, his grin wide and mischievous.  
Next to him, Coco Ullrich smirked as she aimed her phone at the two of you. “We’re documenting history here. You’ll thank us later.”  
Pedro stirred, squinting at them through his grogginess. “Seriously?” His voice was raspy, a mix of sleep and disbelief.  
Paul shrugged, grinning even wider as he showed Pedro the photo. “We couldn’t resist. Look at this. It’s like a promo poster for the most annoyingly sweet rom-com ever.”  
Pedro glanced at the photo, then at you, and laughed softly. “We should use that for the holiday cards this year.”  
You groaned, burying your face in his chest. “This is so embarrassing. They’re never going to let us live this down.”  
Coco laughed, flipping through her photos. “Oh, it’s way too late for that. I’m sending this to the group chat and the PR team. They’ll love it.”  
“Please don’t,” you pleaded, your voice muffled against Pedro’s shirt.  
Paul tilted his head dramatically. “Why not? It’s just a little fun. Besides, you two are giving us all cavities with how sweet you are. We’re suffering.”  
Pedro smirked, holding you a little tighter. “You’re suffering? Sounds like a personal problem.”  
“Alright, alright, enough!” A gravelly voice interrupted, and you looked up to see Ridley Scott standing at the edge of the tent. His hands were on his hips, but the amused twinkle in his eye gave him away.  
“Ridley,” you started, your cheeks flushing with heat. “I’m so sorry—”  
He held up a hand to stop you, his smirk growing. “Don’t apologize. If anything, I should thank you. Pedro’s been suspiciously well-behaved since you arrived. But,” he added with a pointed glance at Pedro, “if this keeps up, we’ll have to rename the film The Gladiator and the Muse. Production’s going to take twice as long.”  
The crew burst into laughter, and you buried your face back in Pedro’s chest, groaning. “This is officially the most embarrassing moment of my life.”  
Pedro chuckled, his hand brushing gently over your back. “Embarrassing? Nah. You’re the best thing about being here.”  
You peeked up at him, your cheeks still warm, and saw the sincerity in his eyes. “You mean that?”  
“Every word,” he said, his voice soft. “You make everything easier, better… you make it all worth it.”  
Your heart swelled, and a small smile broke through your embarrassment. “Okay,” you whispered. “I’ll try to believe you.”  
“Believe me,” he said, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead.  
Paul groaned, breaking the tender moment. “Someone get a camera crew. We’re turning this into a reality show. Lovebirds in the Desert.”  
Pedro laughed, finally standing and pulling you to your feet. “Careful, Paul. You might not survive the sequel.”  
Ridley clapped his hands, his voice carrying over the lingering laughter. “Alright, lovebirds, enough stalling. Let’s get back to work! Pedro, we’ve got a fight scene to shoot.”  
Pedro gave you one last reassuring smile before winking. “Don’t go far. I’ll need more luck soon.”  
You nodded, watching him head back to set, and felt a sense of warmth that no amount of teasing could dampen. As you stepped out of the tent, the desert sun shining overhead, you knew this moment—this strange, beautiful mix of chaos and love—was one you’d carry with you forever.
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OUARZAZATE, MOROCCO – EVENING  
The rooftop restaurant was like something out of a dream. Lanterns hung delicately from wrought iron fixtures, casting warm, flickering light over the table as the sun dipped below the horizon. The air was cool but pleasant, carrying the faint scent of jasmine from a nearby garden. Below, the city of Marrakech stretched out in an intricate maze of rooftops and twinkling lights, the hum of life soft and distant.  
Pedro had arranged everything, from the secluded corner table to the small vase of your favorite flowers waiting when you arrived. He always had a way of making even the simplest moments feel like magic.  
“Look at this view,” you murmured, leaning against the wrought iron railing as the sky turned from gold to a deep, dusky pink.  
Pedro stood close behind you, his hand resting gently on the small of your back. “The view’s got nothing on you,” he said softly, the teasing lilt in his voice balanced by the sincerity in his eyes.  
You laughed, shaking your head as you turned to face him. “That’s a terrible line.”  
“Maybe,” he admitted, grinning as he pulled out his phone. “But it’s true. Hold still.”  
Before you could protest, he snapped a photo, catching you mid-laugh as you tried to dodge the camera. “Pedro!” you groaned, your cheeks warming.  
He chuckled, looking at the photo with a self-satisfied smile. “Perfect. Might frame this one.”  
“Stop it,” you said, trying to grab the phone from him, but he held it out of reach, his grin only widening.  
“Never,” he replied, his free hand reaching across the table to take yours. His thumb brushed over your knuckles, and his gaze softened. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”  
Your stomach fluttered at the way he said it—no teasing this time, just quiet, earnest affection.  
“Now you’re just being unfair,” you muttered, trying to hide your blush.  
Pedro leaned forward, his head tilting slightly as if to study you closer. “Not unfair. Just honest.”  
You rolled your eyes playfully, but your heart was pounding. In a bid to regain some ground, you grabbed your own phone and quickly snapped a picture of him just as he brought your hand to his lips. The resulting photo was unfairly good—his lashes long, the lantern light catching the gold in his eyes, the softness in his expression making your chest ache.  
“Got you,” you said triumphantly, holding up the phone.  
Pedro laughed, his thumb brushing over your knuckles again as he met your gaze. “Now we’re even?”  
“Now we’re even,” you confirmed, though your grin gave away how smug you felt.  
The waiter arrived with dessert just then—a delicate plate of Moroccan pastries accompanied by a small bowl of honey and almonds. You both leaned forward at the same time, reaching for the same pastry, and burst into laughter when your fingers brushed.  
“Go ahead,” Pedro said, gesturing gallantly.  
“Such a gentleman,” you teased, breaking off a piece of the pastry and dipping it into the honey. You held it up to his lips, your pulse skipping when he leaned in without hesitation.  
“Delicious,” he said, his voice low and warm. “But I think it tastes better coming from you.”  
“You’re impossible,” you muttered, trying to suppress a smile as you took a bite yourself. The flaky pastry melted on your tongue, its sweetness perfectly balanced by the honey.  
As you shared the dessert, your conversation drifted from playful teasing to the little things that filled your days. Pedro told you about a funny moment on set earlier when Paul had forgotten his lines and improvised something so absurd even Ridley couldn’t stop laughing.  
“And then,” Pedro continued, his grin infectious, “he tried to blame me, saying my face was too distracting.”  
“Well, he’s not wrong,” you teased, earning a dramatic roll of Pedro’s eyes.  
“Oh, so now you’re on his side?”  
“I’m on the side of the truth,” you said, popping an almond into your mouth.  
Pedro chuckled, shaking his head. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”  
Your smile softened, and you leaned your chin on your hand as you looked at him. “Probably still charming everyone who crosses your path.”  
“Not like this,” he said, his tone suddenly serious. He reached across the table again, his fingers lacing with yours. “You make everything better. You make me better.”  
Your throat tightened at the rawness in his voice, and for a moment, all you could do was stare at him, his words settling deep in your chest.  
“You do the same for me,” you said quietly.  
The soft music playing in the background faded into the hum of the city as the two of you sat there, the world narrowing to just this moment. Pedro brought your hand to his lips again, pressing a kiss to your knuckles before resting your joined hands on the table.  
As the night stretched on, the two of you continued to talk about everything and nothing—your favorite childhood memories, the places you wanted to visit together, the little quirks you loved about each other.  
When it was time to leave, Pedro stood and extended a hand to help you up. “One last picture before we go?” he asked, his phone already in hand.  
You nodded, letting him pull you into his side. The lanterns glowed softly behind you as he kissed your cheek just as the camera clicked.  
Looking at the photo, you smiled. It was perfect—just like this night, just like him. 
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L’HÔTEL MARRAKECH, MOROCCO – EVENING
The golden hues of the evening sun had long faded, leaving the hotel suite illuminated only by the soft glow of warm, ambient lighting. Laughter filled the room, bubbling up between stolen glances and playful teasing. Pedro leaned against the edge of the plush sofa, his hand resting casually on his hip as you doubled over with giggles at another one of his overly dramatic impressions. 
“I’m just saying,” he said with a grin, holding up his hands in mock innocence. “If anyone here is getting an Oscar for Most Entertaining Human, it’s me.”
You rolled your eyes, swatting at him lightly. “You? Entertaining? Please. You’re just lucky I think you’re cute.”
“Just cute?” he teased, his voice dropping into a low, mock-hurt murmur. He stepped closer, tilting his head. “That’s disappointing.”
And just like that, with no warning, he took your hand and spun you gently into his arms. There was no music, no sound but the faint rustle of the curtains and the muted hum of life outside your window. But to Pedro, there was no need for anything more. 
“Dance with me,” he whispered, his voice barely above a breath, pulling you flush against him.
“Pedro,” you started to protest, but the way he was looking at you—so earnest, so unguarded—stole the words from your lips. He rested his forehead against yours, his arms wrapping around you like he was afraid to let go. 
“You are the reason I can breathe,” he murmured. His voice cracked slightly, raw and unfiltered. “The reason I can survive.”
Your chest tightened, and your hands gripped the soft cotton of his shirt as you closed your eyes. Slowly, the two of you began to sway, side to side, as if the universe itself had orchestrated this silent melody just for you.
“Pedro,” you whispered, tears threatening to spill as the weight of his words sank deep into your soul. “You don’t have to—”
“Shh.” He cut you off gently, his lips brushing the crown of your head. “I want to. You’re my safe place.”
Together, you moved as one, the world outside forgotten. The phones were switched off, the curtains drawn, and for a moment, it felt like time had ceased to exist. All that mattered was this—his arms around you, your head resting on his chest, and the way his heartbeat felt steady and strong beneath your cheek.
“What’s easy is right,” you whispered suddenly, echoing words your mother had once said. The truth of it struck you in that moment, how being with Pedro never felt like a choice—it was instinct. Like breathing. Like coming home. 
Pedro smiled, his hand brushing a strand of hair from your face. “What’s easy is right,” he repeated softly. “Then I guess it’s easy to know... I’m going to love you forever.”
You laughed softly, though the lump in your throat made it difficult. “Forever’s a long time.”
He tilted your chin up, his warm, brown eyes crinkling at the corners with a quiet joy. “Not nearly long enough,” he said, his voice a low promise. “You’ll be my best friend until we’re old and gray. And even then, I’ll still love you.”
There was something in the way he said it—so simple, so sure—that your knees nearly gave out. But as always, Pedro was there, holding you steady, keeping you close. 
This is how you fall in love, you realized. Not in a blaze of fireworks, but in the quiet moments where you let go and they hold you up. 
“Do you know what you’ve done to me?” Pedro said after a long silence, his voice filled with wonder. “You make my stomach ache with hope. You make my hands stop shaking. I wake up smiling now, and it’s because of you.”
You bit your lip, your fingers tracing lazy patterns across his chest. “Pedro…”
“No, listen to me,” he insisted, his thumb brushing against your cheek. “Love isn’t supposed to be heavy. It’s not supposed to hurt. It’s supposed to be this. Us. A safe place. A hand to hold through every storm.”
His words broke something open inside you, and you nodded, letting the tears spill over. “You’re my safe place too,” you whispered. “You make me believe I deserve this.”
Pedro pulled you closer, resting his chin on the top of your head as he swayed you gently. “You deserve everything,” he murmured. “Every laugh, every sunrise, every stupid little joke I’ll tell for the next fifty years.”
You both laughed softly, the sound mingling with the quiet hum of the room. The world outside could wait. For now, all that mattered was this moment—this love that was soft, steady, and unshakable.
Right from your hips to your cuticles, you were everything to him, and he was everything to you. Wherever you both went, it was heaven. And neither of you ever wanted to leave. 
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Steam filled the bathroom, the warmth clinging to the mirrors and wrapping around the two of you like a soft cocoon. Pedro stood under the cascade of water, droplets running down his broad shoulders and soaking his messy curls. His eyes flicked toward you, a tender smile tugging at his lips as you stepped closer, your fingers gently reaching for the shampoo bottle.  
“Turn around,” you said softly, motioning for him to face away from you.  
“Yes, ma’am,” he teased, though there was a hint of shyness in his voice as he obeyed.  
You lathered the shampoo between your hands, your touch careful and affectionate as you worked it into his hair. His curls were soft and damp beneath your fingers, the grays glinting like silver in the dim light.  
“I love your hair,” you murmured, your voice reverent.  
Pedro let out a small, self-deprecating chuckle, tilting his head back slightly. “The gray makes me look old.”  
You paused, your hands stilling in his hair as you leaned around to catch his gaze. “Stop that. It doesn’t make you look old; it makes you look distinguished. And I happen to love every single one of these.” You tugged playfully at a curl for emphasis.  
He gave you a sheepish look, his lips twitching as he fought back a pout. “You’re just saying that because you’re stuck with me.”  
“Stuck with you?” you repeated, feigning outrage. “Oh, no, Pedro. I chose you—gray hair and all. And I’d choose you again. Every single day.”  
His pout softened into a smile, one so genuine it made your chest ache. “You’re too good to me,” he murmured, leaning in to press a kiss to your temple.  
“And you deserve it,” you countered firmly, finishing his hair with a rinse.  
When it was your turn, Pedro insisted on returning the favor, his hands gentle as he massaged the conditioner into your hair. His touch lingered, his fingers tracing the nape of your neck as he marveled at you.  
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his voice thick with sincerity.  
“Even covered in soap?” you teased, feeling heat creep up your cheeks.  
“Especially covered in soap,” he replied, leaning down to steal a kiss.  
The shower ended with a flurry of soft laughter and playful splashes, the two of you wrapped in towels as you padded into the bedroom. Pedro pulled on a pair of boxers while you slipped into one of his oversized shirts, the hem brushing the tops of your thighs.  
The two of you slipped into bed, the soft glow of the bedside lamp casting a warm, golden light over the room. The air smelled faintly of the lavender lotion you’d rubbed on your hands, mingling with the subtle hint of Pedro’s cologne that still lingered on his skin. He had one arm draped lazily over your waist, his other hand holding a book he’d claimed to be interested in, though his wandering eyes betrayed him.
A book rested in your lap, too, but you’d long given up on reading. Instead, you could feel his gaze flickering to you, watching you more than the words on his page. It was endearing, the way he thought you wouldn’t notice, how he never grew tired of studying you like he’d never quite figure you out.  
“You’re not reading,” you finally accused, peeking at him over the edge of your book.  
Pedro grinned, unabashed. He set his book down on the nightstand and scooted closer, leaning his head on the pillow beside you. “Can you blame me?” he said, his voice soft and teasing. His hand reached up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his knuckles grazing your cheek. “I’ve got the most beautiful view right here.”  
You rolled your eyes, trying to fight the warmth rising in your cheeks, but the smile that stretched across your lips betrayed you. “You’re ridiculous,” you murmured, nudging him lightly with your elbow.  
“And yet, you love me,” he replied with mock arrogance, leaning back against the headboard with a self-satisfied smirk.  
“Unfortunately for me,” you quipped, though your tone was dripping with affection.  
Pedro’s laugh filled the room, low and warm, wrapping around you like a blanket. You settled back into your spot, his arm tightening slightly around your waist, anchoring you to him. For a while, there was only the sound of pages turning and the occasional creak of the bed as one of you shifted.  
Eventually, the books were forgotten, abandoned on the nightstand as the room grew darker, the soft click of the lamp switch plunging you into the comforting glow of moonlight spilling through the curtains.  
Lying side by side, your head resting on Pedro’s chest, you let your fingers trace lazy patterns along the bare skin of his arm. But your mind wouldn’t quiet, and as the minutes stretched on, the thoughts bubbling inside you demanded to be voiced.  
“Okay, but really,” you began, your voice breaking the comfortable silence. “Why is ‘llama’ spelled with two L’s? Wouldn’t one be enough? It’s not like we say ‘Llama-la.’”  
Pedro let out a soft laugh, the sound rumbling through his chest beneath your cheek. He tilted his head down to look at you, his lips quirking into a smile. “Mi amor, I adore you, but it’s almost midnight. Go to sleep.”  
“I can’t until I solve this mystery,” you said with mock determination, lifting your head to look at him.  
He sighed dramatically, feigning exasperation. “Fine. Maybe the second ‘L’ is there to confuse aliens.”  
You gasped, sitting up slightly. “That makes so much sense! Like, imagine aliens judging us for eating cereal with milk.”  
Pedro chuckled again, his arm tightening around you to keep you close. “Cereal with milk is sacred,” he said, his voice heavy with playful conviction. “If aliens have an issue with that, I’ll fight them myself.”  
You grinned, turning to prop yourself up on your elbow so you could face him fully. “Okay, serious question. If you could ask someone anything and be guaranteed the truth, who would it be?”  
Pedro cracked one eye open, his other hand lazily resting on your hip. “I’d ask you why you’re so determined to keep me awake,” he deadpanned, his lips twitching with a suppressed smile.  
You laughed, nudging him with your elbow. “I’m serious!”  
“Alright, alright,” he relented, the mirth in his eyes softening as he considered your question. “I’d ask my third-grade teacher if she really lost my homework or if she just didn’t like me.”  
You burst out laughing, the sound muffled by the way you buried your face into his chest. “That’s what you’d waste your question on?”  
“Don’t judge me,” he said with mock indignation, his fingers trailing absent patterns on your back. “It’s haunted me for years.”  
Your laughter subsided into a warm giggle as you tilted your head up to look at him. “Fine. My turn. I’d ask my mom if she’s proud of me. Like… really proud. Not just the ‘I’m your mom, so I have to say it’ kind of proud.”  
Pedro’s hand stilled on your back, his gaze softening as he leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead. “She’s proud of you, baby,” he murmured against your skin. “And so am I. Always.”  
The weight of his words wrapped around your heart, a comforting balm that eased the ache of self-doubt. You nuzzled closer, your fingers curling around his as you let the quiet stretch between you for a moment.  
Moments later, you broke the silence again, your voice a whisper in the dark. “When I was little, I thought my toys came alive when I wasn’t looking. Like Toy Story. Honestly, I still kinda think they do.”  
Pedro let out a deep laugh, his chest shaking beneath you as he pulled you even closer. “I wouldn’t put it past them,” he said, his voice warm with amusement. “Your stuffed bunny? Definitely a troublemaker.”  
You giggled, your heart feeling impossibly light as his hand returned to its slow, soothing patterns on your back.  
The conversation drifted into comfortable nonsense, the kind of midnight musings that didn’t need to make sense but brought a certain kind of intimacy only shared in the quiet hours of the night.  
Finally, as your eyelids grew heavy and your words faded into murmurs, Pedro pressed a lingering kiss to your temple. “Goodnight, mi amor,” he whispered, his voice soft and steady.  
In his arms, with the world outside forgotten, you felt safe. Loved. His heartbeat was the only rhythm you needed as you drifted into sleep, a love like no other holding you steady through the night.
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