#and going 'imagine if i could have this but a girl'
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
godineedtoread · 3 days ago
Text
18+ mdni !!!!!!
can you imagine the cold, quiet and self control freak lt. simon “ghost” riley being just a dumb dick for you ? ‘cause I can.
When Soap told you that your darling boyfriend was a perfectionist, a control freak who barked at the new recruits for placing their foot even a centimetre wrong, who never missed his target, who has never skipped a day of training and even arranges his equipment in a certain way that no one was allowed to touch- you couldn’t believe him, and soap couldn’t believe it that he could be anything else but that.
Because Simon for you was sloppy, a dumb fuck whose blood flow was more in his lower half than ever in his brain. The moment he comes back from deployment he’s sucking and squeezing you everywhere. As soon as you open the door, he’s grabbing your waist and pressing you against all that gear of his as you only squeal at how fast he is (he’s a cat, canon). Pressing needy kisses to both your cheeks as he whispers several muffled ‘miss you’ and ‘want you’, then pulling your jaw towards him for a kiss that quite literally screams ‘i missed you like hell baby’. His tongue exploring your mouth like there’s gold hidden in there somewhere, and for him, there might as well be.
He wouldn’t leave you alone for a whole day, literally. He wouldn’t even shower if you didn’t join, won’t eat if you don’t sit in his lap and feed him, and heaven forbid he leaves you alone after that. He’s fucking you on the couch, on the bed, the floor, hell he’d even fuck you in the bathroom as you get ready to go to bed. You were just doing your skin care routine, but he says you were tempting him, pouting and caressing your face as you massaged the serum, that made him rile up.
Your hands barely managed to hold the sink as you feel the man thrust violently behind you, no rhythm, no technique, it was purely carnal, purely primal. He holds you by the fat of your waist as buries his face in your neck, taking in the scent of your freshly washed and lathered skin. “You smell fuckin’ divine luv”, he whispers in your ear, as he tilts your jaw up with one hand to show you your pleasure blinded face in the mirror, lips parted and a frown of your face. His pupils are entirely zeroed out on your face in the mirror. He’s making you feel this good, he’s making his girl feel so good that she can’t even speak. It only drives the man insane, thrusting faster and sloppier until he spills inside of you. Of course, he cleans you up after in the bath (again) and carries you bridal style to the bed.
Oh, and on the bed? he’s a starved man. A man who hasn’t eaten for months, the more time he’s deployed for, the more time he’ll be spending between your legs, sucking and making out with your other pair of lips, as if to apologise for being away so long. If he didn’t look up with those love drunk eyes as he sucked on your clit droopily you would’ve been hundred percent convinced that he was with you just for sex. Because the shit amount of time he spent just shoving his dick in you anywhere and anytime for the rest of the days is just wild.
He’d bend you over on the kitchen counter while you cook him breakfast, “What’d I need breakfast for ? You’re good enough”, he grunts as he proceeds to lift you on the counter and eat your sweet cunt out. You can’t even go out without him grabbing you somewhere, squeezing and playing with you like his personal stress toy. You try and push his hand away and tell him stop? You’re just inviting a challenge. He’ll be touching your sensitive spots, ears, arms, waist, neck. Whispering filthy comments as you walk around the shop. Until you drag him sneakily to the restroom to finally him what he wants. He’ll have you on your knees, tears staining you cheek as you try fit all of him in your throat, “That’s it doll, y’re doin’ so bloody well f’me”. He grabs your hair, lightly thrusting in you as you take him in further. He’s a mess above you, a moaning and groaning mess who just can’t ever get enough of you.
In short, the man CANNOT physically stay away from you. So when Soap says how Ghost is on the field, you know that he’s a completely different person from Simon, because Simon can’t last a day without you giving him some kind of a sweet treat :>
______________________________________________________________
a/n: ahahaha, first time writing stuff like this, hope the public approves.
442 notes · View notes
pisoprano · 2 days ago
Text
Somehow the Jubilation dream gets leaked to the public, specifically a still of Ladybug and Chat Noir kissing at their wedding. A Ladynoir stan becomes so wracked by all the emotions that they end up akumatized as Honeymooner.
Before either Ladybug or Chat Noir can do a thing to combat the akuma, they’re transported to a game show dimension...
--
Honeymooner: Welcome Ladybug and Chat Noir! I am your host, Honeymooner! And I can’t believe you two went and got married and didn’t tell anyone! For shame!
Ladybug: We didn’t actually—
Honeymooner: I have the picture of you both dressed in white right here!
Chat Noir: Really, that was a side effect of the akuma—
Honeymooner: Puh-lease! You two weren’t Couple of the Year for nothing! And I’m going to prove that you two are perfectly perfect for each other by having you play The Newlywed Game! I’ll ask a question and you’ll tell us who you think it applies to more. If you’re right, the wedding bells will ‘ding!’ If you’re wrong, the wedding bells will ‘dong!’ If you’re both right oh, let's say five times, I’ll let you both get back to your honeymoon *wink*!
Monarch: And I’ll know what Ladybug and Chat Noir’s real names are, muahahaha!
Honeymooner: Oh, and I suppose Monarch's giving me the first question: Do you know your partner’s real name?
Ladybug: No.
Chat Noir: No.
Wedding bells: *dong! dong!*
Honeymooner: Incorrect! Both of you are incorrect!
Chat Noir: I’m not lying! *realizes that Ladybug (along with the rest of Paris) has definitely heard the name ‘Adrien Agreste’* But maybe Ladybug has heard my name before? It’s really common!
Ladybug: *remembers Chat calling her ‘Marinette Dupain Cheng’ multiple times* Mine too! So so common!
Honeymooner: I guess that tracks. Moving on, it’s my turn for questions!
Monarch: Hey! I didn’t get to—
Honeymooner: Question 2! When did your partner fall in love with you?
Chat Noir: She didn't fall in love with me.
Ladybug: Exactly! I’m not in love with him!
Honeymooner: Remember, for this question you are answering for your partner, not yourself!
Ladybug: Uh… maybe around our first battle with Glaciator?
Wedding bells: *dong! dong!*
Honeymooner: Both of you are incorrect! Tell us, when did you really fall in love?
Chat Noir: When we first defeated Stoneheart… I told myself I didn't care who was behind that mask, I loved that girl...
Honeymooner: Since the beginning! We all swoon! Now Ladybug, tell us! When did your feelings start?
Ladybug: I… well… maybe I just had some feelings I never noticed…? Not that I can get into an actual relationship right now!
Honeymooner: *points at the wedding kiss picture* I think you’re a little late for that! Question 3! Let’s get into your preferences! What is your partner’s favorite color!
Ladybug: Black.
Chat Noir: Uh… re— *sees Ladybug glaring at him and changes his answer at the last second by imagining what her civilian self would pick, then basing his guess on his 'Everyday Ladybug'*—pink?
Wedding bells: *dong! ding!*
Honeymooner: Chat Noir is correct!
Monarch: What kind of a question was that? I need to know more about what’s behind their masks!
Honeymooner: It seems our butterflyness has something else he wants to know, so: Question 4! What color is your partner’s eyes?
Monarch: That’s not what I asked!
Chat Noir: Blue!
Ladybug: Green!
Wedding bells: *ding! ding!*
Honeymooner: Correct! Hey, you both got one right! I knew you knew each other so well! Only four more times with both of you getting it right to go!
Ladybug: Just for the record, I might have different color eyes when I’m not wearing the mask. And Chat’s got the eyes of a cat, so his eyes could be any color in real life!
Chat Noir: R-right! What my lady said!
Honeymooner: But clearly the fact that you knew means you spend a lot of time looking, tee-hee! Oh, I know what I want to ask! Question 5! Who has spent more time looking at pictures of their partner on their phone!
Ladybug: Chat.
Chat Noir: Me.
Wedding bells: *dong! dong!*
Honeymooner: Incorrect! Ooh, Ladybug, you’re such a voyeur and no one has any idea! So scandalous!
Chat Noir: *remembers he’s Adrien Agreste* Oh, I probably skewed those results since my photos are on my computer instead of my phone!
Ladybug: Y-yeah, and I’m constantly checking the Ladyblog so I keep seeing Chat Noir on the site’s icons!
Honeymooner: Ohoho! So you are someone who's taken steps to be actively engaged with society, hm....? Well, we thought it was such a travesty when you didn’t inform us of your engagement!
Monarch: Ask what echelons of society they run in!
Honeymooner: Question 6! If you were both attending a fancy party with the snobbiest elites in Paris, who would end up making a social faux paus first?
Monarch: NOT! WHAT! I! ASKED!
Ladybug: Chat, definitely. His posture alone would keep this stray from getting through the front doors!
Chat Noir: Meow-ch, I am offended! I’m a purebred feline, thank you very much! I would never make a breach of etiquette, so be default you’d be the first to make faux paws, my lady.
Wedding bells: *dong! ding!*
Honeymooner: Chat Noir is correct! Ladybug, this man is literally the prince of your dreams, you need to take him to a masquerade ball, he will sweep you off your feet and it’ll be so magical…
Ladybug: This is all just hypothetical! And who knows, I can be a bit clumsy sometimes—
Chat Noir: Madly clumsy.
Ladybug: Shut up.
Chat Noir: I will once you start getting more questions about me right!
Ladybug: I've gotten some things right!
Chat Noir: You've gotten one thing right. Which you literally knew since the moment we met. Come on, you know me, Bugaboo. And we'll prove it to the Honeymooner just how much.
--
They do manage to prove they both know each other. After 913 questions, anyway.
concept: an akuma that forces Ladybug and Chat Noir to play some version of the Newlywed Game. in order to beat the akuma they have to get enough questions about the other correct, but the questions often will be random obscure facts about their civilian lives. akuma magically knows the correct answers to all questions asked but still only asks completely useless questions that does nothing to help the butterfly figure out their identities, just enough to have ladybug baffled by how bad she is at guessing about what chat noir's personal life is like
3K notes · View notes
windixie · 2 days ago
Text
⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ out of touch ♱ soccer player! gojo x alt! reader pt.1
Tumblr media
summary : gojo is the university's most popular boy and soccer player. he can get any girl he wanted to warm up his bed, so why did he catch feelings for the girl who looks like she just woke up out of a coffin?
warnings ☠︎︎ this will contain smut throughout the story. reader is implied to have a smaller chest! gojo is an asshole :( so angst, profanity, insecurities, p in v, creampie, comfort, fluff, slight breeding kink, light choking, jealousy, ill prob add to the list as the story progresses!
word count : 1.03k
let me know if you want to be added to the tag list !!
Tumblr media
you knew gojo. hell, everyone knew gojo. annoying, loud, obnoxious, ah should I go on? that's how you described the so called star player on the soccer team. his ego reached all the way towards the clouds by how much he was admired in the community. you on the other hand, not so much. sure you were known by many but not in such a positive way. you were intelligent sure, but the way you dressed wasn't entirely accepted. you were always getting bothered by other students, one of them being no other than satoru gojo. although, it seems that you two have grown into a friendship lately.
"hey pretty" you heard an awfully familiar voice come up behind you. the white haired boy was still in his blue and white soccer jersey covered in grass stains and some of his sweat from his practice that he just came from. you gave him one of your small sweet smiles."hi gojo" you mumbled back.
he looked down at your figure. the pretty black blouse fit you so perfect as well as those mini grey jean shorts that cupped your ass so deliciously. gojo took notice of you wearing your earbuds which he took one of them and placed it in his ear. "whatcha listening to?" you faced him slightly annoyed as you looked at how his face scrunched up in disgust.
"seriously? how can your ears support all that screaming?" he grimaced as he heard the loud singing.
he let out a chuckle at that before his eyes lit up as he realized something. reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a piece of paper handing it to you. you blamed the shot of arousal that traveled towards you as you took notice of how veiny his arms were. you glanced down to see it was a ticket. a ticket to his upcoming soccer game, to be exact.
your eyebrows picked up as you turned to him. "you want me to go to your game?" the question made the blue eyed boy nod. "want you there on the stands baby, if you can, then I promise to play even better than I usually do." you were shocked to say the least. the satoru gojo inviting you to his game personally even after countless months of relentless bullying was not something you could see coming.
but you couldn't help yourself from nodding. "yeah sure ill be there!" the feeling of your heart beating against your chest brought a scary but not unwelcome feeling. You stared at him for a moment, unsure if you were hearing things correctly. The blue-eyed boy, a walking angel blessed by God himself, smirked down at you with a flicker of something you couldn’t quite place. It wasn't the usual cocky smirk. It was different—something warmer, maybe? Or maybe you were just imagining it.
"I'd like that."
"great, ill see you tomorrow after school then?" he asked in which you let out an mhm in return. "okay pretty, try and get some sleep. you need some just by judging off your eye bags" he teased. "shut up!"
you watched the taller boy walk off. his use of the sweet and loving names made you feel a little awkward, but you shoved it down. You had a feeling that this was just another one of his ways of throwing you off. It wasn’t like he was being sweet. Not Gojo. He never was.
As you walked off to the other side of where the dormitories where taking note on how the night was now awakening due to time change. as you reached for your AirPods case to put back your earbuds your fingers stopped on your left ear. your earbud was missing.
gojo didn't take notice of the music cutting off. he was in a completely different world thinking about none other than you. he didn't understand how he caught feelings. no matter how many times he reminded himself it was you and how he could do some much better that that. he only gave you to ticket to his game only to be nice, is what he told himself. a friendly gesture friends do all the time!
"yo Satoru!" one of his friends called out to him. gojo turned to look at the boy with long black hair and big ass gauges walking up to him along with some other boys from the team. a smile crept up on his face dabbing them all up. "hey you all did well at practice today"
"yeah man that's what we came to say as well but we saw you talking to that emo freak uh whats her name, y/n?" this made gojo slightly embarrassed on how they caught him. "don't tell me you hitting on that emo pussy, it can't be that good" one of the other teammates chuckled making the white haired boy slightly uncomfortable.
"nah man, too busy with uraume" Geto patted his back "good good, lets keep it that way. she's got a better body anyways. let me burrow her sometime yeah?" the blacked hair boy received a nudge at that making him chuckle.
you looked around you trying to find the taller boy to retrieve your airpod. sighing in relief as you saw him. "gojo!" you called out making the boys turn around.
"ah she came back for round two?"
you walked up to him. "hey uhm you still have my AirPods." you said pointing to his ear. "give back your friend her AirPods satoru" his friend teased.
"we're barely friends. acquaintance is a better term" he mumbled out. as you received back your airpod, you stopped. eyes widening as you heard what he said. "acquaintance? thought we were-"
"friends?" he cut you off. "cmon I pay attention to you two or three times and now suddenly we're friends?" he scoffed. why was he acting like this? that's right, because he's satoru gojo. you were nowhere as close as him. you never will be. your face turned serious before you reached into you pocket handing him the ticket he gave you. "here, you dropped this" you mumbled.
gojos eyes fell down to the ticket in his hands. his heart broke a bit. "wait.. y/n-"
"forget it" with that you retrieved back to the direction to your dorm fighting back tears as you left the boy stunned.
"looks like you hurt her feelings, gonna go apologize?"
"nah."
© 2025 windixie. All work belongs to windixie . please do not copy, repost, plagiarize, any of my works as your own.
320 notes · View notes
Text
P*rn ☆  Chapter 2, Moving noises?
Tumblr media
Masterlist Word count: 1.9 k Sylus x Fem!Reader
Summary: You have been following a spicy content creator by the name of Red Crow for some time now. Nothing could’ve prepared you for what would happen when he moves into the apartment next door.
Warning! This story is meant for mature audiences. It contains sex, swear words, porn, smoking, intimate piercings, mentions of drugs, and other mature themes. Do not engage if you are under 18.
Author's note: Haha, take this! 2 chapters in one day! Also, every time I write another chapter to this story I have to update the warnings and it isn't even that spicy yet.
Mature content under the cut.
∘₊✧───────────────────────────────────────✧₊∘ 
'Are you alright? You look tired.' Tara sounds awfully concerned and you can imagine why. The bags under your eyes might as well be down to your knees by now. Turns out your new neighbor is nocturnal. You couldn't care less about the moving noises, but the fact that they only happen past ten pm is killing you. 
'No kidding,' you sass at her. Quickly, you smack your hands in front of your face. Sure, you're known to have an attitude but never to Tara. She's too sweet. 'I'm sorry, I'm just so tired.' 
Tara frowns: 'Is it that new neighbor of yours? Kieran told me he has a tendency to stay up late.' 
'That's an understatement. He's nocturnal.' Tara lets out an annoyed groan in solidarity, but it just sounds cute coming from her. 'It's fine. I'm sure he's almost done. I mean, how much stuff can you fit into one of those units? You've seen mine, the one next door isn't much bigger.' 
'Must be a big change, considering you and Zayne were so close.' 
'We still are,' you tell her, 'we just see each other a little less now. I do miss him a lot.' She nods but her eyes have a little twinkle in them and you know where this is going. 'No, stop that. Zayne and I are just friends.' 
'Never even... you know,' she questions with a cheeky smile and a wiggle of her brow. 
'No, never,' you laugh, 'as I said, just friends. I don't know, he just feels like a brother. I mean, I've teased him before as a joke and nothing “physical” happened on his end. So I don't think he likes me either.' 
'He goes through an awful lot of effort to be “just friends,” just saying.' 
'Yeah, yeah, sure. You have a very filthy mind for the way you look.' 
'It's been said,' she responds with a gleaming smile. You lean back in your chair and cross your arms, looking her up and down. 
'About that.' Her body tenses up every so slightly. 'Your boyfriend is not what I expected at all. I mean, I've seen him pick you up before and he looks quite tough, but he seemed just as awkward as you are.' Tara's eyes flicker around the room a while, seemingly not wanting to explain anything to you, until her phone lights up. She quickly checks the notification and gasps with excitement. 
'Hold that thought, so Kieran just told me they're doing drinks to celebrate Sylus’ move. That means they must be done,' she states in a chipper tone. You raise an eyebrow at the strange change of topic. There's a freaky side to that woman, you're sure of it. 
'So?' 
'So, I'm dropping Kieran off so he can have some drinks but maybe we can have a girls' night,' she suggests. Considering Red Crow isn't posting anything today for once, your evening is completely open. Could be fun to have a quiet night in with Tara. 
'Sure, sounds fun. What are you thinking? Movie, face masks, board game?' 
'All of the above,' she squeals in excitement, 'I'll bring some snacks.' 
'Great, just let me know when you and Kieran are driving over.' 
∘₊✧───────────────────────────────────────✧₊∘ 
To be a good neighbor, you decided to get this Sylus guy a little something as a housewarming gift. Considering they'll be drinking; a bottle of whiskey can never go wrong. Lucky for you, you were gifted a bottle of whiskey a few weeks ago but you know that one is not quite your style. The Writer's Tears single pot still. It's a very nice whiskey and you've had different whiskeys from Writer's Tears before, but you're just not the biggest whiskey drinker. It's expensive too, so it might give a good impression. 
Tara just texted you she's on her way, which means you've got about fifteen minutes before she gets here. You considered waiting for her and Kieran to hand over the gift so it could be in the spirit of "oh, just dropping my friend's boyfriend off" but that’s just weird. Feels like you're a parent dropping your kid off at school and you're not about that. 
So now you're here, in front of the oh-so familiar door that you used to have a key to. Part of you is really curious how the place looks now, another part of you wants to keep the memory of how it used to be in a time capsule. Either way, you've got a present for your neighbor and this interaction could be done within a minute if you do it right. 
You press the doorbell and hear something fall followed by a string of curses. The door opens fast and the person on the other side, who you think is probably Sylus, towers over you. You look up at him with wide eyes and recognize him right away. That man right there is the reason for most of your pleasure and orgasms. Red Crow. 
'What,' he barks. Rude , and not at all what you would've expected. Still, it takes you a second to take all of him in. He’s even taller than you imagined, eyes even more piercing, face even sharper. It's like a fucking God leaning over you and staring down like you're no more than a puny peasant. 
And a switch flicks in your head. 
'Fix your tone,' you huff, 'I'm your neighbor. I thought I'd bring you a housewarming present.' His eyes widen ever so slightly. How you managed to muster up such a bratty tone in the face of who's talked you over the edge more times than you can count is a mystery to you, but it feels kind of nice to see him stunned like this. You hold out the box the whiskey is packaged in towards him. 
His shoulders relax and he does actually fix his face. His features soften a little and his eyes no longer stare at you like you're an intruder. Your heart starts racing, as if your body just now realizes who is in front of you. You beg to the Gods above that your cheeks don't get bright red. A cold shiver goes down your spine when he takes the box from you with a flicker of an amused smile, the box suddenly seeming much smaller in his hands. 'Thank you, that's nice.' 
'No worries. Tara told me you're having a party, so I thought that wouldn't hurt,' you say, trying to sound as casual as possible. He studies your face for a second, searching for the answers to a question he doesn't ask you. 
'You know Tara?' You nod. 
'She's my coworker.' Shit, your voice isn't as steady as it was at the start anymore. You've got this man on a fucking pedestal and he's here, in reach. It's a weird feeling. Your panties are soaked but you're highly put off by the way he greeted you. Still... there are very little appropriate thoughts going on in your head right now. If this was your last day on earth, you'd have this man bend you like a pretzel right here right now in the hallway. 
He nods, amused like a cat playing with its prey. 'Is that right?’ 
'Yes. Whelp, nice meeting you. I'm gonna go back to my place,' you ramble awkwardly and quickly turn to slip back into your own apartment, accidentally slamming the door. How the hell are you going to face Tara now? Your body is going into overdrive. You bet you could cum just hearing your vibrator turn on. However, you can't risk it. Tara has told you Kieran drives like a maniac and always drives if he's sober, which is now. She could be in front of your door any second. 
"Just breathe," you tell yourself, "it's just a man." Yeah, just a man, a man that could fuck you like there's no tomorrow. Shit, your thoughts aren't your friends right now. A cold shower ought to work. Hopefully. 
∘₊✧───────────────────────────────────────✧₊∘ 
The bottle of whiskey from his neighbor was put on display on his bar cart. He knows the kind and that type of whiskey isn't for parties. Not even small parties like this. He figures it might be a regift or something. No sane person would give a total stranger an expensive whiskey like this. Never mind a stranger who has been a disturbance from the start. 
Then again, they're not really strangers. He saw the look in her eyes. He's seen it before and hasn't been wrong about it yet. It's that "I've seen you naked" look. To be fair, Sylus would've preferred to stay anonymous in this building for a little longer but considering his neighbor is friends with Tara, she probably won't tell anyone what he does. That is, if she knows what her boyfriend Kieran does since he wears a mask in his content. 
But there was more in her eyes. More than just scandal or embarrassment. There was lust. A lot of it. So much so that Sylus feared he might've caused his pants to tent if she would've bit her lip. Best for both of them that she left when she did. 
He runs his hands through his hair in frustration. Normally, he's not one to obsess like this but there was just something about her. Something about how she looked at him, about the way she commanded him to fix his tone. It's been a long damn time since a woman showed that kind of dominance to him and, shit, it turns him on like crazy. 
Maybe, just maybe, he can rub one out real quick. He sits down on his bed and looks down at the bulge in his pants. He truly hopes he didn't look like that before. He hadn't seen her look at it. Besides, would that be so bad? It looked like she wanted him to take her right then and there, and he would have if she asked. Or demanded, he isn't picky. 
A devious thought pops up in his head. He promised his followers he'd record himself getting off if they begged and beg they did. Maybe he could tease her with this as well if she really does watch him. If it wasn't just a look of attraction and intimidation, but recognition. 
He whips out his phone, puts it on his dresser across from the bed pointed at his crotch and upper body with his thighs still visible. His face is just out of frame, not on purpose but he doesn't mind his followers not seeing how flustered one small interaction got him. Not that they'd ever know why, but she would. 
He sits down on the edge of the bed once more to check if everything's in frame when he hears it. The shower. Her shower. So, her bathroom and his are next to each other, which means their bedrooms are probably also next to each other.  
“Good to know,” he thinks to himself, and that's when he hears it. The softest, most muffled of moans coming through the air extractor fan followed by a string of whimpers. Those must be connected to each other. He feels his dick twitch against his pants like it's being chocked, his ears feel like they're burning while a wicked grin plays on his lips. 
And then he presses record. 
∘₊✧───────────────────────────────────────✧₊∘ 
Previous - Next
∘₊✧───────────────────────────────────────✧₊∘ 
250 notes · View notes
toothfa-1-ry · 11 hours ago
Text
JUST FATHER ACTIVITIES
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Imagine in an alternative universe, somehow you and your baby daddy Thanos escape the games (don't ask me how) and you guys pay off all of your debts and have financial stability
Basically father! Thanos headcannons!!
Tumblr media
First of all, thanos is a girl dad. Idc i do not make the rules you CANNOT and WILL not change my mind otherwise
After the games, irrelevant of whether you were also in the games with him or not, he'd quit his drug addiction and go to a rehabilitation for the sake of your daughter
You couldn't change him, but atleast your daughter could
Thanos would go with you to the gynae every single time without fail, he'd brag about it (very loudly) though
"Look" thanos points at all the patients in the waiting room in the gynae clinic "how many women do you see with their husband's accompanying them?"
"Thanos shut the fuck up" you'd hiss at him, while hitting his arm. The women around you guys giving you the stink eye which he proudly gave back
"I'm just saying the truth- is it a sin to speak the truth?!?"
Will brag to the doctor and nurses too
"Say doctor miss" he leans back at his chair with his head held up high "how many husband's accompany their wives to the clinic?"
"Oh well that depends, not all the time-"
*insert thanos's loud proud laugh, his head thrown back while you grimace*
"I'm the fucking best aren't i"
*insert your slow head shaking* "Yes babe, you sure are"
He was always protective of you, but it grew even stronger after he found out you were pregnant
The type to protect you from a pigeon if he felt like it looked at you for a second too long
"Wtf are you looking at you cross eyed motherfucker"
*glares at the pigeon from a distance"
The type of person to hyper fixated on whatever small movement you do cause he's doesn't want you to get hurt
"Oh be careful be careful" *Holds your hand* "hold my hand and dont let go, use your other hand on the railing"
Says that he doesn't need to read or watch those "pregnancy classes" or "how to take care of a new born" classes cause he's already fully prepared
You later find out that he signed up for one of those seminars online and attends those lectures at night while your asleep
Bro probably has even stronger baby fever than you do
Buys things for the baby and you
"Thanos.. what's that in your hand"
"It's a costume, a ironman costume"
"For?"
"Our daughter 🙄 duh y/n"
"Babe, she still isn't even born"
"I got you a costume too" *takes out a black widow costume that seemed a little too racey* "you should try wearing it now just incase-"
*he got hit by you for trying to get you pregnant again while you were pregnant*
Let's say nam gyu wasn't the slimy bitch he was in the series
Best GODFATHER ever. GOATED godfather, S TIER godfather
I already mentioned this but I'm sure Thanos and nam gyu would come up with names for the baby
I'm talking wack ass names that they genuinely find cool
The list of names would include marvel character names (cause cmon, the child's dad is literally called thanos) or rapper names
"Add cardi b on the list too"
"You know that's not her real name right?" Nam gyu asked, pausing before quickly scribbling the name down
"WHAT?!? Since when??"
I'm sure nam gyu even accompanied the two of you to the clinic atleast once or twice
He was banned from coming though cause him and Thanos together made too much noise
Whenever you and thanos are in public, it doesn't matter if your in a cafe or restaurant or if your just out for a walk
If he meets anyone and i mean anyone
He'd tell them that he was gonna be a dad
"Hey do you know that I'm gonna be a dad?" *points at you* "and that's the mom- she's carrying my baby"
"Sir I'm the waiter"
On the softer note though
Kisses you on the lips first and then kisses your stomach second before you both go to sleep
If you groan or even if he senses a inch of your discomfort he'll automatically try to figure out a way to make you feel in ease
Tries his best not to annoy you
(It doesn't always work cause being annoying is his entire personality trait but it's the effort that counts!!)
Ties your shoelaces for you cause you can't bend over
Traces shapes over your stomach while you both lie next to eachother
Reminds you how pretty you are everyday
"If I'm the legend Thanos, then I guess you would be a myth, cause only a face like yours could make a man like me want to quit"
"Your so corny"
But you wouldn't have it any other way
281 notes · View notes
notapradagurl7 · 1 day ago
Text
Ties That Bind. Part One.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Terry RichmondBillionaire! x Black Fem! Plus Size/Reader.
Summary: On your boring day at work, you were reunited with the former Marine-turned-billionaire Terry Richmond the man you tutored in college, but he wasn't there for a meeting or investment but for a marriage proposal, to you. Little did you know there was more to him than you imagined.
Word Count: 3,292k
( Masterlist )
Warnings: 18+ smut, fluff, dark!Terry, MDNI!, arranged marriage, mention of burnout, stubborn reader, quick wedding, jealousy, Use of AAVE, consensual for both parties, mention of depression, oral sex, fingering, unprotected sex, dirty talk, pet names, confession, violence, mention of a drunk man, mention of cutting family ties,
A/N: I want to do more mini-series for Terry instead of fics, hope enjoy this one! I'm so excited Don't forget to leave a like, comment & reblog to support, or you can always ask for a request Enjoy! ❤️(NOT inspired by fifty shades of gray)
Taglist: @megamindsecretlair @satoruya @planetblaque
@playgurlxoxo @babybratzmaraj @becauseimswagman1
@superheroprincess22 @pocketsizedpanther @beenathembo @brattyfics
@hxneyclouds @yassbishimvintage
@nahimjustfeelingit-writes @nayaesworld @ovohanna24
@novahreign @writingsbytee @avoidthings @kimuzostar @slippinninque @keyera-jackson @theblacklewinsky @euphorichappiness10 @life-in-the-slut-house @miguelspvssy @liatreads @kaylaahisthebestest- @tforpresz @uniqueoutlierblog
@dxddykenn @dpennedit @secretlifeoofmarpessa
@westside-rot @mymindisneverhere
@mind-somewhere-else
@kindofaintrovert @aquarising03
@5starr-staciii @pickuptruck01 @lady-olive-oil @23jammy @zillasvilla @yassbishimvintage
——————-
Your fingers tapped across the keyboard with your dark brown eyes glued to the computer screen, you sighed lowly with pure annoyance and couldn’t wait for this day to be over, your alarm on your phone buzzed twice for your lunch break. You stood up from your desk chair in the cubicle with your work besties, Kiana and Juno.
Kiana had a bright smile, her curly hair bouncing as she stood up. "Girl, you look like you need a day off. How about we hit that new café down the street?"
Juno chuckled, adjusting her glasses. "Or a happy hour. I vote for margaritas."
You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help but smile. "You two know I can’t just leave work like that. I have deadlines, remember?"
Kiana waved a dismissive hand. "Deadlines are overrated. You’re seriously burnt out, and we both can see it. Just take a break!"
Before you could respond, your phone buzzed again. This time, it was a message from your mom, asking you to join her for a family reunion on Saturday.
But you had to decline since work was keeping you busy, when in reality you didn't want to see them right now, they would always ask if you had a man to catch or a husband yet.
It was so damn annoying.
"Ugh, fine. I will take a break, I’ll just be a responsible adult," you sighed, heading towards the door.
Grabbing your pink lunch bag, and stepped out with ease. You waved at the beautiful black women with their dress clothes and matching heels that clicked on their marble tile floors. They gave you hugs and smiles, delighted to see your face.
“Hey beautiful, you good?” Juno asked gently, her eyes on you.
“Eh, same day, same cubicle Juju. I’ve been okay, still standing, how about y'all?” You explained with a shoulder shrug.
“I’ve been alright, my cat had been going number 2 in the litterbox, its so fucking gross, but I love my baby Lilo” Kiana exclaimed with a lip pout.
“Already, has your cat been checked for that? I've been good lately,” Juno asked with her brow raising.
“Yes, but the doctor said everything is normal, but my cat is fine,”
The three of you have close since high school and college, kept in touch and ended up at same job, you typed and typed documents for your strict boss Kim. She was a bitch, and always said you did everything wrong. It was taking toll on your mental health, you endured travail to get where you needed to be.
But you needed more than a vacation from this workplace, maybe you thought your life was getting dull, no it wasn't you had a decent job, bitchy boss, money and great friends that loved and supported you.
Everyone had a different life and the same kind of life like yours, you're weren't alone.
Entering the roomy break room adorned with beige walls and the aroma of microwaved food, the three of you settled around the circular dark gray table to enjoy your lunch.
Thanking God in the depths of your mind that you’ve gotten a break from the mundane madness.
“I need to go on vacation,” You blurted out, your face resting in your palm.
“How about we all go on vacation? Our how about Brazil?” Kiana exclamined with her hands spread out.
The three of you laughed it off with shared stories and smiles, it was giving young some peace.
Until you heard that familiar deep voice of his, you rested your finger against your lips and listened carefully, “Wait, do y'all hear that?” you whispered to them.
“I-I’m s-sorry Mr. Richmond but what brings you here,” Leigh stuttered nervously.
“Yes, ma’am, I’m sorry to arrive here unannounced and without an appointment but I’m here to speak with one of your assistants,” Terry spoke cordially, his hands in front of him gently grabbing on his wrist.
You, Juno and Kiana peeked out of the break room door, your eyes widening at the striking sight before you. Terry was dressed in a black suit with the tie neatly tucked, speaking to your boss, Leigh.
Leigh stood there in awe by Terry, her mouth parted but no words came out, she could tell that he was a billionaire too.
She agreed to his inquiry, gesturing toward the conference room where he was to take a seat; Leigh eagerly flattered any affluent individual who could enhance her image.
Her brown skin glowed under the white fluorescent lights, and she wore a V-neck black dress with coordinating heels, while her blonde curls danced at her shoulders.
“Yes, who would you like to? Are you here for an investment or meeting?” Leigh asked him, grinning from ear to ear.
“Oh shit, it’s Terry from college! He still is fine as hell too, I remember him, he’s giving me this vibe, like silent but deadly,” Juno trailed off, smirking seductively.
Kiana’s head turned to Juno with a head shake, waving her off. “Girl, please, he’s definitely giving fifty shades of grey if it was written by a woman and had all black cast but better and I'm Ana,” She gushed with a giggle.
You were still silent from seeing Terry after all these years, he was fine as hell.
You recall Terry from your college days, where you tutored him in math. He visited you during each tutoring session.
It seems your efforts were worthwhile; he was intriguing and quite attractive, and he had also served as a Marine.
You didn't require his help for anything; you were a stubborn woman who valued your independence.
While you understood that Terry could indulge you and offer you his black credit cards, you wanted it to be you secretly. But you didn't want to be desperate.
“Hey, Y/N, didn't Terry have a big crush on you in college?” Kiana asked you in a curious tone.
You still didn't say anything as you tried to remember it. Mona waved a hand in front of your face and snapped her fingers twice, “Y/N, hey! You good?” she asked again.
“He did? He could have any woman that he wants now,” You said to them, shrugging your shoulders.
Juno placed her hands on your shoulders and faced you forward, “Don’t do that, you are smart, sexy as fuck, beautiful, and funny, your personality is amazing, I bet Terry still likes you too,” She sang playfully.
"Y/N! could meet in the conference room, please! With Terry!" Leigh shouted with a stren tone.
Juno and Kiana squealing, and jumping for joy with you. "Oh shit, it's you! I fucking knew it! Ahhhh!" Kiana squealed quietly, patting your shoulder.
You rolled your eyes at them, chuckling at them. "Relax, relax, ladies. We'll be shopping in Paris later,” you joked with a grin.
“You better mean that shit too, girl! The whole nine!” Juno yelled back, smiling like a villain.
You walked out of the break room with nervousness flowing through you, heading toward the conference room.
You pushed open the door and saw him standing behind the table in a black long sleeve tee shirt, matching pants and sneakers, gold Rolex watch on his wrist, glasses resting behind his face.
Terry turned around faced you with those green eyes of his that made your skin tingle.
Hey Y/N, how are you? It’s been a while,” he greeted you with a warm tone, his voice smooth like whiskey.
“Hey Terry, I've been better but it certainly has, I didn't expect you to be here,” You replied back, your voice still steady yet a little shaky.
“Neither did I, but I had to. There’s something important I need to discuss with you,” Terry admitted to you, stepping a bit closer.
You raised an eyebrow, your curiosity piqued. “Important? Like… business important, or personal?”
“Personal, You might want to sit down for this,” he replied, a slight smirk dancing on his lips. “You might want to sit down for this.”
You sat down on the desk chair across from him, looking into his eyes.
Terry leaned forward, his expression serious. “Y/N, I know this is unexpected, but I want to propose something to you—something that could change both our lives.”
You blinked, feeling the weight of his words. “What do you mean?”
“I want to marry you, I know it sounds crazy, but I’ve thought about it for a long time. I want you as my wife, in every sense of the word.” he stated, his eyes locked onto yours.
“Marry me? Just like that? Be honest with me Terry,” You asked him, crossing your arms with a smirk.
Terry sighed, as he leaned against the wall, his expression a mix of frustration and vulnerability.
“It’s not just that I want to be with you, My father doesn’t think I can handle the business; he’s set on handing it over to my brother, Tristan,” he admitted, his voice tinged with a hint of desperation.
His shoulders slumped slightly, revealing the weight of his words.
“See, you can't fool me, Mr. Richmond, you said he was arrogant, irresponsible and a drunk asshole, wasting your parents’ money,” You recited in ‘duh’ tone while holding your fingers out to count. nodding with a soft hum.
Terry smiled and nodded at you; you understood him completely. You were both very familiar with each other.
“See? You know what I'm talking about, and you know what else my damn father said to me?” Terry asked in irritated tone, crossing his arms in frustration.
“He won't give that business to you unless you're married like himself right?” You guessed with a smirk, tilting your head to the side.
You’ve been facing some financial setbacks, obviously, you can see this marriage as a solution. With Terry, he can pay of off for everything, But you did feel the same way about Terry, you thought about it diligently.
“Mhm, yes I'll marry you, Terry Richmond. Where are the papers, I know you brought them and the officiant, always come prepared," You agreed with a mischievous grin, gently tugging at his collar.
“You know me so well, beautiful but you do know that we have to get married, have a wedding, invite our friends and families, the whole nine?” Terry asked with a clever tone, walking toward you.
You giggled with a nod, “Yes I do, I'm making sure that I know what I sign up for, we have to be smart about it. But still you were always so mysterious Terry, there may be more to you,” You reasoned with wit, your finger resting under your chin.
Terry brought out the marriage papers and the officiant from the room, the papers were signed, Terry stuffed them them neatly in the manilla folder.
Terry walked out of the conference room with you, your boss Leigh’s eyes nearly popped out of her socket, and your best friends cheered for you with glee.
“Hell yeah, that's our girl!” Kiana exclaimed with a grin, jumping up and down.
“And we're gonna be shopping in Paris and Rome, we as black women deserve everything! The gotdamn world as our own, created by us, for us!” Juno shouted with pride, nodding her head.
Juno was right about, black women deserved nothing the greatest not just the best, they deserved to be treated with respect and deserved to be treated like empresses, if they could create their own planet then they would do it in a heartbeat.
And just like that, you accepted the marriage proposal, and you quit your job. You didn't need it anymore, and your boss already pissed you off by making you work on the weekend twice.
——————
The next day, you moved in with Terry in a elegant suburban one-story home without a bunch of windows, since he remembered you telling him that you hated a house with too many windows, you liked your privacy.
You were still adjusting to the idea of living with Terry, the man who had once needed your help with math equations but now carried the weight of the world on his shoulders as a billionaire.
You had always admired his ambition; it had drawn you to him back in college. But now, as he stood in the kitchen, brewing coffee in a pair of sweatpants that clung to his toned body, you felt a spark of something deeper — a connection that ran beyond mere attraction.
"Want some?" he asked, glancing over his shoulder, his green eyes catching the morning light streaming through the window.
His voice was warm, inviting, and it sent butterflies fluttering in your stomach.
You nodded, a smile forming on your lips. "Yeah, sure. I could use the caffeine."
As Terry prepared your coffee, you took a moment to absorb everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours.
You had gone from a cubicle life, filled with monotony and a boss who barely recognized your worth, to living with a man who was not only powerful but also incredibly attentive.
"Y/N, You okay? You seem a bit lost in thought," Terry called, breaking you from your thoughts.
He handed you a steaming mug, his fingers brushing against yours, sending a jolt of electricity through your body. “Thank you, Terry,”
“You're welcome, beautiful,”
You took a sip, savoring the rich flavor before answering. "I’m just...trying to wrap my head around all of this, this feels surreal." you gestured around the cozy kitchen filled with sunlight.
Terry leaned against the counter, arms crossed over his chest, his expression shifting from playful to serious. "I know it’s a lot to take in, but I promise you, I wouldn’t have proposed if I didn’t mean it. This isn't just a business arrangement for me."
His words hung in the air, heavy with meaning. You could see the determination in his eyes, the deep-seated desire to protect and cherish you. It was a side of him that you had glimpsed in college but never fully appreciated until now.
"I believe you, but what if this doesn’t work out? What if we end up hating each other?" you replied softly, your heart racing.
Terry stepped closer, his gaze unwavering. "I refuse to let that happen. I want to build something real with you. I’ve seen the darkness in this world, and I don’t want to face it alone. I want you by my side."
His vulnerability caught you off guard. You had only ever known the confident, charming Terry, but there was a depth to him that made your heart ache for him.
You wanted to know his secrets, the burdens he carried, the demons that haunted him.
"Tell me about your family, What’s your relationship with your brother like?" you urged, wanting to peel back the layers of this man who had captivated you since your college days.
Terry sighed, his expression turning pensive. "Tristan is… complicated. He was always the favorite, the golden child. My father believes he can carry on the family legacy better than I can. It’s strained our relationship. And then there’s my mother…she’s caught in the middle, trying to keep the peace."
You could sense the pain behind his words. It was a familiar struggle, one that many black families faced — the weight of expectations, the pressure to succeed, the fear of disappointment.
"I’m sorry, you don’t have to feel like you’re alone in this." you whispered, reaching out to touch his arm.
Terry looked down at your hand, then back at you. There was a flicker of something — hope, perhaps? — that danced in his eyes. "That’s exactly why I want you with me. You understand what it means to fight for your place in this world."
You smiled softly. "I do. And I’m here for it, all of it. Just promise me that we’ll communicate through the tough times."
"Always," he vowed, his voice low and sincere. You leaned in gradually and kissed his him passionately, his lush lips were soft.
You would still need to confront both his family and yours, and you hadn't even informed them that you were married to a billionaire whom you taught in college.
“I haven’t told my family about this marriage yet, and I never told them that I taught you in college, they’re gonna brag and try to take credit for it, or make themselves look good,” you sighed lowly, setting your cup down on the counter.
And in your family's minds, they would see you as the black sheep and golden child, now that you had money, you would be a scapegoat but you knew that Terry wouldn't have anyone to do that to you.
You had to cut off your family for being disrespectful and manipulative, once you moved out and lived with your best friends, you felt free for the first time.
Your mental health was bad at that point, You could finally breathe.
Terry’s face softened at you, “Y/N, you deserve to be celebrated, not criticized. If they can’t see that, then they don’t deserve a place in your life,” he said, his voice steady and reassuring.
Your heart swelled at his words. It was comforting to know that you had someone who understood your struggles and was willing to stand by you.
You’d always seen Terry as a protector, and now he was offering you more than just a partnership; he was offering you a chance to redefine your life on your own terms.
“I appreciate that, Terry. You really don’t know how much that means to me,” you replied, your voice thick with emotion.
He stepped even closer, his eyes searching yours for something unspoken. “I do know, Y/N. I’ve been through my own battles, and I’ve learned that the people who truly matter are the ones who lift you up, not bring you down.”
As the mornings turned into days, you found comfort in the mundane moments spent in Terry’s home. You made the decisions on the decor and colors for the wedding, the date was set, you called your friends and they were squealing again.
You took turns cooking dinner, watched movies on lazy Sundays, and even argued over the best way to load the dishwasher. It was simple yet beautiful, and you cherished every second of it.
You had to prepare yourself for the aftermath of this wedding, you were happy to spend the rest of your life with Terry but you didn't know what else lay ahead.
———————
227 notes · View notes
loves-alibi · 2 days ago
Text
changes
or: you married a butcher, not a martyr.
MDNI simon "ghost" riley x f!reader word count: 2.7k warnings: mentions of sex, mentions of torture, reader is hashtag depressed, mentions of death (assumed death), simon is a weirdo at the end <3
*****
He’s a butcher, an apprentice actually. Every Monday through Saturday, regulars flock to the shop, where Simon, the gentle giant behind the counter, takes their order with a smile. Kids love him, always excited to see the man who tells droll jokes when their mothers, who are more interested in the way he winks at them after throwing in an extra quarter of a pound of meat, aren’t listening.
Simon is the talk of the block. Every nosy soul wants to know his deal. It’s not like he came out of nowhere. Simon was born and raised on the streets of Manchester, but there’s an intrigue about the young man that was never tapped into until he took up working at that shop, chopping and slicing up people’s dinners while asking 'how's the family?’.
So it’s no surprise when one day an old lady, a regular at the establishment, asks Simon, elbow-deep in raw lamb, if he’s single.
After breaking the news that he wouldn’t like to make a habit of dating customers, she explains that her granddaughter (“She’s about your age and– you’ll see –she’s the prettiest girl in all of England.”) is in town.
Before he even thinks, the woman scribbles on her receipt for three lamb chops an address and 8pm.
Eight hours later he stands outside of her house, a bouquet of flowers in hand and the receipt folded neatly in his back pocket. Before he has the chance to ring the bell, the door flies open, bombarding Simon with the scent of roasting meat and floral perfume. Standing barely at his chest height is the woman from the shop. She calls a name, and round the corner comes her granddaughter.
Simon almost drops the bouquet in his hands. Your grandmother really didn’t lie about how lovely you are. Even as you abscond her (“You didn’t tell me he was actually coming tonight!”) Simon can’t stop staring at you.
Dinner goes by as awkwardly as you could have expected. Your grandmother sits at the head of the table, you and Simon at opposite sides, kicking each other awkwardly each time either of you crossed or uncrossed your legs. She prompts you two with conversation starters.
Darling, tell him about your job.
Simon, I hear you have a brother.
It’s like pulling teeth. The whole night Simon is kicking himself for not meeting you elsewhere, where he could make a real and good impression without watching eyes. It’s over, he thinks when you finally pull the plug on the evening, dismissing Simon with the excuse that you have to work early the next morning. It’s a shame, he really thought that, despite everything, you two had a connection. There were enough fleeting glances and shy smiles from you for Simon to really believe.
You at least have the decency to walk him to the door, thanking him for entertaining your grandmother and for being such polite company. And, with a glance over your shoulder confirming that the coast is clear, you pull Simon in by the lapels for a kiss, it’s chaste and quick, but has Simon’s chest heaving up and down.
“There’s a pub down the street, you know it?” You ask. Simon nods his head dumbly, his lips still tingling. “She goes to sleep early. Meet me there in an hour, yeah?”
He practically skips to the pub. He orders two pints and waits and why did he order you a pint? It'll be warm by the time you get here and he doesn’t even know if you like beer. This was such a bad idea, you’re probably not even going to–
Fifty-two minutes later you walk through the door, chest heaving and hair tousled. You ran. You really ran to see him.
As you down your pint, he sends a silent thank you to whoever answered his prayers because– wow –you’re here and even more beautiful than he could imagine, with a bead of beer slipping out of the corner of your mouth and dripping down your neck.
The next morning, you two wake up naked in Simon’s bed with headaches and a ring on your finger– his nan’s ring to be precise, the one she explicitly told him to give only to the girl. There’s a voice in the back of his head that says he should be mad to have given it away in a drunken stupor to some girl he just met. But then you laugh, saying, “I’m engaged.” And he laughs with you, a sinking feeling telling him that drunk Simon may have gotten it right.
Simon watches you observe the ring glitter in the morning sun. “Do you want to be?”
You scrunch your nose at the question. “Depends,” you say, dragging out the final ‘s’. Simon blanches. “What’s your last name?” You ask, scrutinizing him.
Simon loses his breath as he stares into your eyes. You’re laying naked, halfway on top of him, and yet it’s the way you look at him that makes his world tilt. He barely manages to stutter out, “R–Riley. Simon Riley.”
“Riley… Mrs. Riley.” Your features soften. “Yeah, I think I want to be.”
In three months, you’re married. It’s a real, proper wedding with both sides of the family there. Simon washes the sinew and blood from his hands and gets all dressed up. He’d pick his bloody apron over a suit any day, but the smile on your face when you see him down the aisle is enough to make getting all dolled up worth it.
Your grandmother dies a happy woman shortly after your wedding. She leaves you the house and well wishes for your future (and with the request to name her future great-grandchildren after her).
Marriage suits Simon. He leaves you for work each morning before the sun is up. You wake hours later to a cold bed yet a warm cup of coffee in the kitchen. He comes home at five o’clock on the dot with a pound of meat cut and ready to cook, which he does. It fills some caveman-basal part of him– the ability to provide for his wife, melting away his worries every time you sigh in delight at the taste of the meal he oh so lovingly set out for you.
Three days after your first anniversary, Simon comes home with a pamphlet. Her Royal Majesty's Armed Service. You laugh, tell him there’s no way he wants to enlist. He almost believes you, sounding so sure in your words. Maybe he is being ridiculous, but then he turns on the news and sees the chaos of the world and realizes that chopping meat wasn’t all he was meant for.
He sits you down again. This time you don’t laugh.
“You will not make me a widow, you understand?”
“Of course not.”
“Promise?”
“I promise, love.”
He enlists, joins the infantry, and you wonder if you made a mistake marrying that man. Then 30 weeks later, he comes back and you almost forget the heartache until he’s standing right in front of you, this time without a pound of meat and the smell of blood clinging to his skin.
He fucks you. You fuck him. It’s only natural after so long. He’s missed you. You’ve missed him. And you have plenty of frustration to get out.
It’s when you’re laying in bed, fingers trailing his abs– yes, abs, born out of the weeks of grueling work– that it strikes you how much this means for you. You squeeze what used to be the loving layer of pudge that circled his waist.
“You like it?” he asks, his smirk pressing against your head.
But the energy to lie doesn’t exist in you. You tell him no, that you miss the Simon that walked out of your door thirty weeks ago, that– sure –abs are nice but you liked the Simon with a little fat, that you didn’t want him to do this, that you didn’t want to have to waste away, alone and worrying about him.
Yelling ensues. You cry. Simon cries. You sleep in the guest room. Simon sleeps on the couch.
He’s a good soldier, you learn. Not from him of course, Simon’s too humble to brag about his achievements like that (plus, he’s afraid that his growing accolades would just remind you how you never wanted to marry a decorated soldier, you wanted to marry him). You always come to base to pick him up from deployments. Soldiers give you respectful nods and tell you how good of a sergeant your husband is.
You and Simon had a distinct separation between work and life. As soon as your car is through the base gates, not a word is spoken of his deployments. It always gets you in too much of a fit. So it was agreed upon: you didn’t have to hear about it.
Until one day, work shows up to your front door step. Simon’s on a deployment, and you’re finally unwinding after a long day of your own. As you begin to pour a glass of wine, there’s a clinical knock on the door.
Two men in uniform are on your porch. They hold their hats in their hands, as with solemn voices they try to explain it all to you. It’s strange– you don’t cry. They ask if you need anything and you simply say no. After all, what could they give you– Simon? You have a chuckle at that after you finally send the soldiers off.
You continue your normal routine: finish that second glass of wine, tidy up the house, and cook dinner. You burn your thumb on the cast iron pot. With your finger in your mouth to soothe the burn, you think to dial your grandmother’s number. If anybody needs to know about Simon, it’s her. Except, when you dial her number all you get is a robotic voice explaining that the number you are trying to reach is not available.
Oh, you realize, that’s right– nan’s dead!
You lose it on the kitchen floor. Your sobs are so loud, the neighbors come to check on you. They find you right there on the kitchen floor, dinner burning on the stove, and paperwork from the army on the counter.
People treat you like a widow after that. You don’t consider yourself one. It just doesn’t feel right. He left without a goodbye, and now you’re supposed to accept that he’s gone?
You’re a celebrity around town– poor Simon’s widow. You quit your job, the widow’s pension being enough to get you by for now. Simon’s old boss starts giving you cuts for free– not even the shitty ones. You get filet mignons from him, aged wines from neighbors, extra pastries from the bakery, and pitying stares from strangers.
In three years you went from a complete stranger to Simon Riley’s widow. Three years and that man tore your life apart. The six month mark is approaching. It’s funny, really. That’s twice the time it took for you two to get hitched.
There isn’t even a body to bury, only a plain gravestone with his name and dates. You don’t visit it. There’s no point. What’s there to mourn? Instead you dig a hole in your back garden. It isn’t very deep, and the garden’s long dead. You don’t dare touch the shovel, it had been Simon’s– used when you needed a hole dug for flowers or bushes. Instead the hole is dug with your bare hands, like a dog searching for something.
In the pathetic pit in that dead garden, you put your ring– the one Simon gave you, that his nan gave him –wrapped in his apron.
The backyard burial doesn’t make you feel better. It just puts dirt under your nails that won’t wash away no matter how hard you scrub at it.
You consider selling the house. That leads to another breakdown. You were supposed to raise your kids there– Simon’s kids. Nan wanted you and Simon to have that house. Now nan’s gone. Simon’s gone. But for some reason you’re left to wander the ruins.
Six months finally comes. People stopped giving you free shit by month three. It’s not like you ever wanted their gifts. It’d come to you with a smile and some bullshit about how we get it or we’re here for you. You laugh at the notion when you wake up on the six month anniversary of your fucking husband’s death alone and…
It’s not the anniversary. Not the real one, at least. It’s only been six months since those men showed up at your door, like the grim reaper dressed up for Queen Elizabeth. He had to have died some time before then.
You don’t even know when your husband died.
It has to be on the paperwork they gave you. Six months after however many days since your husband’s death, you tear apart your house. Every drawer is pulled out, every cabinet yanked open in the hopes that you can find the paperwork that has Simon RIley’s death date.
Not on the pension form.
Not on the letter from the crown.
Not on the invitation to the fucking widow’s club.
When the hell did he die?
You fall asleep in the wee hours of the morning, surrounded by every piece of paperwork you could locate. It’s still dark when you wake up, mind clouded with exhaustion. You almost fall back asleep right there on the floor, but when you let your head fall back down on the hardwood, you feel rhythmic vibrations travel through the wood to your cheek. Footsteps.
“Love?”
Only one man has ever called you that.
It’s like you lose the ability to speak. Any thought you could have dies on your tongue as two familiar arms wrap themselves around your waist, pulling you into a lap. He holds you on the floor, lets you cry it out until the sun comes up.
The first words to come out of your mouth: “You said you wouldn’t make me a widow.”
He holds you tighter, “And I didn’t.”
Simon doesn’t tell you what happened. All you know is that he had been taken, tortured, and somehow rescued. 
He looks different. He’s gots lots of scars now. They bother him, he covers up in long shirts and pants more often than not, no matter how much you tell him he doesn’t need to. He says that he doesn’t want to worry you with them.
It’s not the scars that worry you. Simon’s different. Whatever happened to him back there had made him needy. He doesn’t let you out of his sight. At night, you’re adhered to his side by an impossibly strong grip. He whispers in his sleep, don’t leave me, as though you could possibly escape his iron grip. Maybe needy isn’t the right word. Obsessive, more like.
He digs the ring up just like you did– all bare hands and fury. You don’t know how he found it– you never told him. You just wake up one morning to him pawing furiously at the ground. He pulls it out and presents it to you like a cat with a dead mouse. He puts the ring on your finger before even rinsing the dirt off.
In bed he consumes you. Where once sex was fun and playful, it now is a ritual, like Simon is claiming you. It’s enjoyable, yes, but overwhelming. You don’t think he blinks anymore. It’s like he’s worried you’re going to be ripped away from him, like every time is the last time.
Two months after he comes home, papers arrive for him in the mail. He’s being deployed again. You’re worried. It’s too soon. You can’t lose him again, and you tell him as much.
Simon placates your worries with a kiss on the head. As he pulls you into a hug, he utters, “Love, I crawled out of the grave for you once. You best bet I’ll do it again.”
Somehow, you don’t think he’s lying.
176 notes · View notes
rafeysdeer · 3 days ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
valentine (aka sunshine reader and in love jason)
civil!reader x jason todd
prompt: valentine's day wasn't exactly jason's favorite holiday, he didn't really care about it, that's until his very excited girlfriend decided to surprise him.
a/n: okay, that's my second imagine, and i think it looks better, i was giggling and kicking while writing because these two are just soo cute, and the detail about the candle being syntactic is from a hc that jason just doesn't deal well with fire because of the explosion. english is not my first language, hope you guys like it 💗
Tumblr media
It had been at least two weeks since you started leaving little hints about the big day that was coming, Valentine's Day. A cute romcom about the holiday, some cute couple videos, anything to try to get your boyfriend in the mood for the day, but he simply didn't seem to care about it.
You figured it was because he never really had the chance to properly celebrate, or anyone to spend the day with, before you, his only focus was the whole vigilante thing, he never would have dreamed that on a saturday night he would be curled up on the couch, eating ice cream and watching 'How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days', but he was, and with a pretty girl resting her head comfortably on his shoulder.
"Jay? Do you have patrol next friday? I thought we could go out for dinner or something?" the girl asks, lifting her head from his shoulder to look at him with her bright eyes and a little pout on her face.
"I think Steph can cover for me, it's just routine patrol, why? some special occasion?" he asks with a naughty smile on his face as he pulls her close to him again, leaving a kiss on her forehead.
"Nothing really special, I just miss you," she says and his laugh immediately fills the room, leaving that comfortable energy in the air. "Baby, you're literally wrapped around me, like, right now." He hears her snort and shove him playfully. "Doesn't stop me from missing you." The silly smile on his face took over as he stroked her hair. "You're just one of a kind, aren't you?"
Turns out that missing him was only half true, not that you didn't miss him, but coincidentally, next friday was also, Valentine's Day, and the closer the day got, the more anxious she looked like.
When friday finally came, she already had everything planned out to the last detail, she convinced him to finally go out with Tim (who had been trying to go out with him for weeks by now), and put her plan in action, she had all the classic stuff, flowers, chocolates, a beautiful dress, a set table on the roof, and the best part, a limited edition of Pride and Prejudice packaged methodically with a red bow, matching her dress.
You managed to convince Tim to join you on the plan, stalling Jason until 7 pm, when he came back to the apartment, just to find everything in complete darkness except for a trail of synthetic candles leading to the window.
"Honey? Are you ready yet?" No answer, the only option was to follow the candles to the window, where he found a table set on the roof, with a bouquet of red roses, synthetic candles lighting everything up, and his favorite girl with a smile from head to toe in a long red dress.
"Happy Valentine's Day, Jay," she says as she tries to strike a sensual pose, leaning on the table, but she's so excited she can't hold it in for long, running towards him and stealing a kiss. "So? Did you like it? I know you're not the biggest fan of Valentine's Day, but I just wanted you to be able to experience it and it's okay if you think it's too much, we can just go back inside and order pizza or something-" her nervous speech is interrupted by an anxious and completely passionate kiss.
"I loved it, sweetheart, I really did, how did you manage to do all this without me noticing?" she smiles playfully, shrugging her shoulders and pulling away from him slightly. "I may have had some bats helping me, and wait, there's more," she says excited, her smile as bright as the candles as she runs to the table, grabbing a package, her heels making a clicking sound along the way.
"I remember you told me you really wanted it and I just couldn't help it, I hope you like it" she hands him the book, wrapped with a big red bow that matched her dress, and the happiness on his face made all the effort she put on it worth it. "You're so fucking perfect, how did I end up with you, huh?" he asks, showering her with kisses, while the smile never leaves her face.
"I guess it was fate."
248 notes · View notes
creamecafe · 3 days ago
Text
Tumblr media
Love you the same and to the moon and back | Hyun Ju
Tumblr media
Summary: After Hyun Ju came out as woman, it seemed like hope was lost as she lost everything. The military, her family and her friends. When dating you, she’s afraid she’ll lose you too. Or will she?
Pairing: Hyun Ju x GF!Reader
Warnings: angst, fear of coming out, fluff
Word Count:
Author's Note: This was requested by countrybarbiegalss from my book titled “Squid Game Imagines” on Wattpad. If you’d like, please check it out I’d really appreciate it. Don’t forget to vote, comment on what you think and share!
Feedback is always appreciated!
Tumblr media
Want a request for a Squid Game character like this one? Check out my latest post, read my request guidelines and send a request!
Read on Wattpad & AO3 here
Tumblr media
Hyun Ju could have not expected her life to take a turn like this. Discovering she’s transgender was a question she was able to solve. But the problem was what it came with after.
Shortly not long after she came out, she was kicked out of the military, struggled to find a job for at least almost two months. A lot of her family members cut her off and she lost friends she knew for years.
It seemed like everything was lost, until she met you. You were in the light in her eyes she needed. She met you while she was running late for work and you were jogging and accidentally bumped into her.
She remembers it all well the moment she met you, what she and you were wearing. You were so beautiful and hope was found again.
Hyun Ju hoped to see you again when she came to work and she did. Days turned into weeks and eventually a month. She really wanted to ask you out but was terrified of the relationship not lasting long as she was hiding herself, her true identity.
But something told her to ask you out. So the morning that she got ready for work, she told herself, she’s going to ask you out when yiu see her. As usual, she saw yiu again. She put a hand up as if she was going to raise a hand but it was to capture your attention.
You stopped running, took out your phone to pause your music and took out a earbud from one of your ears.
“Hey, how are you?” Hyun Ju asked
“Good and you?” You replied breathing heavily from the running.
“I just wanted to ask you something.”
“Yes, what it is”
Hyun Ju took a pause and took a deep breath
“We’re always seeing each other when I’m going to work and you’re running. I just think you’re really pretty and I wanted to know if you would like to maybe get a coffee together or go out sometime?”
After what Hyun Ju said to you, you had to think of what she was saying to you. You also found him (because at the time you didn’t know that she identified as a she even in that moment)
Hyun Ju took your silence as a possible rejection. It wasn’t until you replied
“Sure, I would love to” You nodded
“Really?” Making sure of what Hyun Ju was hearing right now.
“Yeah why not?”
Hyun Ju couldn’t believe it. Was her life finally turning around for the better? Was this a sign?
“What time and day works for you?” You asked
“I get out at work around 6:30. 6, if my boss is merciful.”
“Alright then, I’ll see you tomorrow then?”
“Sounds great”
Hyun Ju nodded and smiled to herself. This was really happening. She asked out a girl.
“See you around then” You said about to go back to your daily running
“See you” Hyun Ju exclaimed as she was going to head to her work. She realized one thing. She didn’t know your name and you didn’t know hers
“Wait!” She turned around to face you hoping you didn’t run off already. Luckily, you just about to put your second earbud in when she called out. You turned around.
“I didn’t get your name.”
“It’s Y/N.” You smiled and Hyun Ju didn’t forget that
“Hyun Ju” She said
“That’s a pretty name. I hope you don’t leave me hanging tomorrow Hyun Ju.”
“I won’t.” She shook her head and laughed.
You chuckled too as you ran off, looked back and waved to him her. She waved back to you as she looked at the time and realized she’s running late. “Crap!” She ran off to her work.
A few hours passed and she was done with her job. She took the subway home and was tired. Your smile wouldn’t leave her mind. When she got back to her apartment, she prepared something to eat, watched TV and went to sleep. A few more hours and she’ll be going out with you, she thought to herself.
The next morning and she was more than ready to get out of bed to see your face again. Everything she was doing in her daily routine was fast paced as she was so excited. She always double checking herself, to see if her hair was fine in every reflection she could see. While she was fixing her hair while walking looking in a shop glass, she bumped into someone. She looked at who she bumped into, it was you again. Time felt like it stopped. She was going to apologize but you did first.
“We, well I gotta stop bumping into you. I gotta be more careful when running.” Yiu chuckled putting a hand to your mouth
“It’s alright,” Hyun Ju nodded smiling.
“Tonight’s still on?” You asked playfully
“What? Oh yes, it is.”
“Great!”
“Here,” Hyun Ju took a notebook and pen out of her bag and wrote down her number to give to you. “You can text or call me if anything comes up”
You took the paper and looked at what she wrote.
"Ok will do. I'll let you get back to you going to work."
"And I'll let you get back to running."
Both of you nodded and parted ways. A few hours have passed and Hyun Ju finished her shift. She rushed home to get ready for her first date with you.
It was going to be at a small restaurant, nothing fancy. When she saw you at and what you wore, it felt like her heart was going to fall out her chest.
The date has gone well and you started seeing each other after work more often. Both of you not long after started dating each other.
This was the happiest Hyun Ju been in a long time. Being with someone, finding peace and security. But while dating you, still being happy, there was something eating at her.
Her wanting to come out to you, telling you she's transgender. Over the course, you have been dating her, you notice his her hair would get longer and would paint her nails.
You seen other guys done the same as it was a trend mostly among Gen Z, so you thought nothing of it.
Every opportunity Hyun Ju had to tell you, she would shut it down quickly as she was afraid of losing you. She hated lying to you. It wasn't right, but she was afraid of your reaction of her telling you.
She believed that you would cry and yell at her, never wanting to see her face again. Tonight after work was the night she was going to tell you.
When she came home to your shared apartment, you came running to you excited to see you, her boyfriend girlfriend again.
"Hey babe, how are you doing? How was work" You said smiling
"Good thank you. Work was good. How are you?"
"I'm good thanks, just reading a book. I made dinner for both of us. I waited for you to eat togther."
Your kindness. That was the thing Hyun Ju was going to miss when she tells you the truth tonight.
"I need to tell you something, Y/N."
"Yes, what is it?" You asked without looking up from your book.
"I don't know how to say this. And when I do, you might not wanna be with me anymore."
You put your book down at what she meant by this.
"What do you mean?
"I have discovered something about myself. And I'm trans. Transgender."
"Are you being serious right now?"
"Yes I am. I won't be known as your boyfriend anymore. I probably won't even be yours anymore after I have said this."
Putting your book down, you got up and went up to him her.
"Hyun Ju-"
"Listen," Hyun Ju's voice starts breaking up as she looks down. "If you want to break up with me, that's fine. But this is who I am."
"I loved you as the man you weren't meant to be. And who doesn't say I won't love you as the woman you're going to be?"
"You're still going to be with me? People will look at us and I don't wanna damage your reputation."
"So what? Screw those who are going to judge, that's not make me change my mind or make me love you any less."
Hyun Ju tried to hold it in but she was crying. You held her close and sat down on the couch. Her sobs broke your heart. You probably didn't realize how hard this must have been on her, keeping this a secret from you.
"Do you want to go to the bed and just lay down?" You asked softly
"Yes, yes" She took her hands from her face and nodded.
You helped Hyun Ju up and went to your shared room. The room was dark as you turned on a lightly dimmed lamp.
You sat down on the bed first and waited for Hyun Ju to come. She hesitated a bit, but eventually sat down next to you. She wrapped her arms around you. Both of you went further into the bed as you both laid down.
Her broad arms were firm but soft on you as she laid her head on your chest. Trying to match her breathing to your heartbeat. You still felt her tears fall on your tank top and some on your arm.
"It's ok, it's ok. I got you" You whispered kissing her forehead.
Hyun Ju was shaking under you. This wasn't the reaction she wasn't expecting. She was sure you were going to break up with her. This all had to be a dream, like too good to be true.
But she felt safe here. Like her past and everything else didn't exist. It didn't matter.
"I don't deserve you" Hyun Ju said so faintly as shell break.
"Don't say that. Whoever made you feel like you weren't deserving of love just because of the way you identify, don't deserve you. Not the other way around."
After what you said, Hyun Ju just wanted to continue laying and not say another word. You kept kissing. Her forehead, her neck, slow and soft with your lips.
"I love you Hyun Ju. I'll always love you the same and to the moon and back."
Hyun Ju now knows it was indeed a sign you were the one for her. She gets up a bit to face and kiss you on the lips sweetly and gently.
A tear dropped down and you tasted her salty drops. You pulled back and just smiled.
"I love you too Y/N."
"We can take a nap and eat dinner later. Or we don't have to, tomorrow's the weekend. We can stay in, lay like this all you want."
Throughout the night, you guys talked nonsense until you both fell asleep holding each other. This was all Hyun Ju wanted and needed.
Safe and sound in your arms. She was ready to become a new person. But in your eyes, she was the still same.
She was still yours, and you were hers.
Tumblr media
Taglist:
@itsnznn, @soultyun, @hobinistaworld, @happyfrog7681, @Tiuhiatus, @star2008, @magicalconnoisseurcoffee, @fyraevya, @ninahorikoshifr, @ouwioworuuu, @cloudysxkura, @iidontwannadiealone, @idontreallyexistyet, @gigglingkickingmyfeet, @hollxe1, @uuhhtt, @bludzk1llzyuzu, @maymustdie, @bahoglobot, @bread-crum206, @lovesickxmina, @galactict3a, @livelaughlovekuni, @petrrraaa, @sackgirl666, @grimminiecricket
Tumblr media
Navigation | Main Masterlist | Squid Game Masterlist | Squid Game Women Masterlist | Hyun-Ju Masterlist | Join my taglist
166 notes · View notes
sevenangrybees · 2 days ago
Text
YES!!! YEAS!!!!!!! I also think about Flamela yelling at Mithrun over the fairy when he first wakes up in The Big Shirt. She tells him to do his duty to the queen! The queen she fucking hates!!! I think Flamela thinks she's subtle when she absolutely is not. She tries to hide her resentment towards the queen out of necessity (in Queen Hemea's blurb in the new adventure's bible it says the Canaries report to her directly and Flamela's the Deputy, so having open personal beef with the queen would be bad for her job prospects, if not her survival prospects), and tries to cover them with very loud false patriotism. But of course, because she is Not Subtle, everyone who knows her knows she's full of shit.
Mithrun meanwhile definitely played the nobility social game before getting shipped of to the Canaries, probably after as well when on leave, and he was good at it! We see from Milsiril's extra that he was largely well regarded and "perfect" from her perspective. He'd have social skills! He'd know how to schmooze and leverage his family's wealth and status, how to charm people, and collect information and allies!
He has all the skills to be the perfect scheming mean girl at the office, but he can't be fucking bothered, and that makes it worse!!! He used to be the EPITOME of the parts of society that Flamela hates. He would have been her perfect rival, except. He just. Doesn't care.
She could back talk him all day, say shit that would get her court martialed by any other commanding officer to him, and if it doesn't interfere with his ability to delve dungeons, he does not give a single shit. No reaction. And that's the WORST because what she wants more than anything is to FIGHT, but Mithrun just won't (read can't) give her that, so she hates him even more!
And he's everything she wants to be: competent, able to pit himself against danger and prove himself, unaffected (as far as she knows) by the gossip and behind the back talk all around them. Like, of COURSE new recruits gossip about Mithrun, he's got a rivating, juicy, and mysterious history, butt once they get over that and his desirelessness, there's just not much to talk about. He's predictable, he doesn't do anything interesting or scandalous except get his seconds killed, and death's just part of the job.
Meanwhile Flamela's EVERY MOVE is probably subject to endless discussion because of her royal heritage, and unlike Mithrun (as she sees him) she's not made of stone!! She wants to be as unflappable and untouchable as he is, but everything she idolized about Mithrun is either something he hates about himself or a self destructive coping mechanism.
I think she's obsessed with him. I think everyone else thinks she has a misplaced crush on him and bullies him because of it, and no matter what she says no one believes her when she says she just hates him!!! Because she doesn't just hate him, but she's not gonna say that she idolizes him as someone who has everything she wants and is everything she wants to be. Both cause she not recognize those feelings it and because could you IMAGINE the field day everyone would have gossiping about that????
Ryoko Kui's characters make me go fucking rabid cause she knows how to imply so much complexity with so little. (I think about Mithrun's "I used to drink a lot before I became like this, and I acted poorly." so fucking much cause it implies he used to cope with his insecurities through alcohol and behaved in a way he knew was unacceptable, but did it anyway. It's so much fucking complexity added by a single sentence in an alcohol tolerance extra!!!) She really is one of the best to ever do it.
Tumblr media
elf drama i just made up
878 notes · View notes
loveesiren · 15 hours ago
Text
𝖡𝖾𝖺𝗎𝗍𝗂𝖿𝗎𝗅 𝖭𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗆𝖺𝗋𝖾
Thanos x American!reader
a/n: hi my babies! so this is my first thanos (choi su-bong) fic i'm posting. however, i kind of wrote this as an aftermath of a little series i've been working on of them in the games. so, once i am done hating it and editing it, i will posit it! but i hope you guys enjoy this cute lil fluff. i suck at writing fluff tbh but i tried! xx also, t.o.p is my gwiyomiii, my honeyyyy, my angel babyyyyyyyyy! i'm so inlove with him so feel free to send requests!
synopsis: nightmares of the games still haunt Thanos a year later, but luckily Y/n will never leave his side.
warnings: language, fluff, very brief mention of sex if you squint
wc: 1.1k+
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
You couldn’t sleep. Insomnia had wrapped itself around your mind ever since surviving the games last year, a constant shadow in your otherwise bright new life. You had so much to be grateful for—making it out alive, the money that had saved you in more ways than one, and, of course, Su-Bong. Though, to this day, you still called him T. Your T.
Never in a million years would you have imagined living in a sleek penthouse in downtown Seoul with a man you fell in love with while playing deadly children’s games. Yet here you were, in a world that once seemed as unreachable as a dream: Thanos’ World. And you loved it.
The games had changed Thanos in ways you never thought possible. He quit the drugs, buried his oversized ego, and spent six months holed up in his apartment with only you for company. It was a metamorphosis you never expected but cherished deeply. When he finally emerged from that cocoon of self-reflection, he returned to music—his first true love. But this time, it wasn’t about sex, drugs, and wealth. His lyrics delved into the rawness of his childhood, the pain of his struggles, the weight of his dreams—and you. Always you. You were his muse.
Being with the Thanos, however, was far from simple. Going out with him was an ordeal, a gamble. Fans flocked to him wherever he went, now more than ever, since he’d announced his new album. He once thrived on the chaos, basking in the adoration of women throwing themselves at him and men idolizing him. He was a star, and he reveled in the glow. But now? Now the attention suffocated him. He avoided crowded places as much as he could, especially when you were by his side.
It wasn’t that he didn’t want to show you off—God, he did. But the fear gnawed at him. What if something happened to you? What if someone hurt you? You’d already faced your fair share of vitriol when the media leaked that Thanos was dating some American girl. “American bitch,” they’d called you, throwing their venom your way in tabloids and comment sections. But the hate didn’t break you. If anything, it hardened your resolve.
You refused to let him hide away forever. When his anxiety tried to keep him tethered to the penthouse, you were the one who dragged him out into the world. You reminded him of what life outside these walls could offer, even if it wasn’t always kind. And slowly, piece by piece, you were helping him reclaim it.
You glanced over at Thanos, his peaceful face softened by sleep, his arm draped lazily over your bare thighs. Carefully, you lifted his arm and slipped out of bed, moving quietly so as not to disturb him. Padding toward the kitchen, you glanced at the clock: 2:30 a.m. Another sleepless night. You sighed, the weight of endless insomnia pressing down on you.
You set the kettle to boil, deciding tea wouldn’t cut it tonight. The staleness of the room felt suffocating. What you needed was air. Before stepping out to the balcony, you peeked into the bedroom again, reassured by the steady rise and fall of Thanos’ chest.
The view of Seoul stretched before you as you stepped outside. The city pulsed with quiet energy, its lights casting a warm glow against the dark sky. The faint scent of cherry blossoms drifted through the breeze, mingling with the night air and brushing your hair across your face. This view, this life—it was something you’d never take for granted.
Pulling out your phone, you typed a quick message to Se-mi.
y/n: You up?
Minutes passed before your phone buzzed with a reply.
Se-mi: Yeah. Can’t sleep?
y/n: The insomnia is never-ending.
Se-mi: I miss when we all lived together.
Your lips curved into a bittersweet smile. Memories of those first fragile weeks after escaping the games flooded your mind. The four of you—Thanos, Se-mi, Min-su, and you—crammed into your tiny apartment, clinging to each other for sanity. For weeks, you barely left the safety of those walls. Eventually, Thanos invited everyone to move in with him, but Se-mi and Min-su had decided it was time to go back to their families. The games had taught them how precious life was. That, and your shared space wasn’t exactly conducive to privacy—especially with how loud things could get between you and Thanos when you couldn’t keep your hands off of eachother.
y/n: I miss it too. I miss you. Shopping tomorrow?
Se-mi: You know I hate shopping.
y/n: But you love me, and T gave me his black card.
Se-mi: Spoiled brat.
y/n: See you tomorrow 🥰
Se-mi: Can’t wait ✌🏼
You smiled at her response, warmth spreading through you at the thought of reconnecting with your best friend. But the moment of peace was shattered by a sound from inside—faint whimpers carried through the air. Your heart clenched. Setting your tea down, you hurried back to the bedroom.
“T?” you called softly as you stepped inside.
No response. Only the faint cries that sent chills down your spine. You rushed to the bedside table and flicked on the lamp. Thanos was thrashing slightly, tears streaming down his cheeks, his hands grasping desperately at the empty space where you should have been.
“Fuck! NO!” he suddenly screamed, his voice hoarse with panic.
“T!” you gasped, climbing onto the bed and pulling him into your arms. “T, baby…” you murmured, your voice gentle but firm. “I’m here. I’m right here.”
His hand found your shirt, bunching the fabric in his fist as though clinging to reality. He fought against the demons clawing at him, his breaths ragged and uneven. Finally, his eyes fluttered open, glassy and unfocused at first, until they locked onto yours. His lip quivered as shame filled his expression.
“Hi, baby,” you whispered, brushing your thumb tenderly across his cheek to wipe away the tears. “You’re okay. I’m here.”
“Fuck…” he sighed, his voice trembling as he buried his face in your shirt. His shame was palpable, but you held him tightly, cradling him as though the weight of his nightmares could be eased by your embrace.
“Another nightmare?” you asked softly. He nodded wordlessly, slipping his hand into yours. He hated these moments. Hated the way his past still haunted him, dragging you into his darkness. But you didn’t mind. You’d made a decision long ago: this man was worth every struggle, every sleepless night. Some may say a few days isn’t enough time to know who is your person, but when your life is on the line, time has a way of fast-tracking love.
“M’sorry…” he mumbled, his voice muffled against your chest.
“You have nothing to be sorry for, T,” you reassured him, your fingers running soothingly through his hair. “You know I’ll always be right here.”
“Promise?” His voice was barely above a whisper, raw and vulnerable.
You kissed his forehead, tightening your arms around him. “Promise,” you said, and you meant it with every fiber of your being.
Tumblr media
No taglist yet but if you'd like to be added to future fics, let me know! :)
© loveesiren 2025 - do not copy, translate, transfer, or repost my work without my permission. if you find my work on sites other than through links i've provided, please notify me.
133 notes · View notes
cardansriddle · 17 hours ago
Text
Bound by the Ball- Tom Riddle x Fem!Reader
Tumblr media
Summary: Tom is determined to make you his date to the ball. The only problem? You have a boyfriend—and you absolutely cannot stand Tom Riddle.
warnings: banter. like a lot of banter. sexual tension. tom threatening reader to get his way? 5.5k words i got carried away :)
A/N: I know i disappeared from the face of earth, but got inspired to write this one this week. Love u all, hopefully I won't go MIA for too long again (i probably will).
༻♛༺
Unattainable was not a word in Tom Riddle's dictionary.
He had never bothered to familiarise himself with the word. Why would he? If Tom Riddle was to be described with one word, it would be determined. Had he decided to set his sight or mind on something, he would go to any length to obtain it. He had sicarded the notion of "impossible" long ago.
So it came as a slap in the face when what he thought the easiest of attainable things, became not so easy. Truthfully, Tom had not even wanted a date for the stupid ball in the first place. However, when the Headmaster insisted that the Head Boy must have a date, it was not as if Tom had any choice in the matter. He had begrudgingly began his search. His requirements for his date were simple: Not dimwitted, an adequate dancer, and witty enough to keep up with him.
He was mentally going over the checklist when the sound of his name amongst excited chatter broke his reverie.
"Have you heard? Apparently Riddle is looking for a date for the dance."
The wizard halted and slowed his steps so he could listen to the conversation of the girls in front of him. The redhead squealed at the information.
"No!" She said in disbelief. "Imagine being asked by the Tom Riddle to the ball." The girl sighed as if imagining the scenario in her head. The wizard was suppressing his urge to smirk when suddenly the witch who had been silent all through the entire exchange scoffed out a laugh.
"Would not wish that misfortune on anyone."
The redhead gasped, affronted. "Misfortune? Have you hit your head? It is Riddle we are talking about. The charming, smartest boy in the school Riddle?"
"He might be the smartest wizard in Hogwarts but he has the emotional intelligence of a rock."
The two girls beside you gasped your name in unison but you brushed them off with a chuckle.
"I suppose you think your Montague is better?" The redhead giggled again and the other witch joined her in what Tom realised to be their teasing.
He watched your profile as you rolled your eyes at their antics. "At least Montague has human emotions and is not stone cold. The only thing Riddle has feelings for is his textbooks."
"Yeah, the only emotion Montague shows is drooling after you like a lovesick puppy."
The ginger was quick to correct her friend. "Hungry dog you mean."
"I am not saying he is perfect. He is handsome enough and has the approval of my family. That should suffice."
The redhead groaned audibly. "Ah, yes! The traits which define the very notion of romance!" She exclaimed sarcastically. Before you could retort, Tom's attention was pulled to the call of his name.
"Oi! Riddle!"
Tom abruptly halted in his steps, the echo of his name reverberating down the dimly lit hallway. A low curse escaped his breath as he realized the three girls in front of him had also come to a stop, their shoulders tensed with anticipation. He turned his head sharply to find Lestrange hurrying towards him with determined steps. When the younger boy finally stood before him, a mischievous grin played on his lips.
"We found the perfect candidate for your date." Lestrange's eyes shifted momentarily behind Riddle, prompting him to turn and inspect the source of their newfound audience. Three pairs of eyes were locked onto them, two wide with a mortified fascination, and you, who had recently questioned his emotional intelligence, regarded him with indifferent eyes. It was as if his very presence left you unaffected, perhaps even bored.
Tom arched an expectant brow, though his gaze remained fixed on you. Your brows furrowed briefly, and he could see the realization dawning on you—you knew he had overheard your conversation. Yet, even then, you managed to morph your features into an expression one of displeasure and tugged on your girlfriends' arms.
"Can I help you, ladies?" Tom's voice cut through the hallway, a subtle challenge lingering in his words. His gaze remained fixated on you, waiting for a glance or acknowledgment.
"No. Excuse us," you curtly replied and pulled your friends away. Tom watched your retreating back, waiting for the moment you might glance back at him, but you did not grace him with a second look.
He turned his attention back to Lestrange, his curiosity evident. "Well, who is it?"
"Er... well, she just left..." Lestrange's weak gesture indicated the direction in which the girls had disappeared. Tom's gaze lingered on the empty corridor.
༻♛༺
His gaze had begun to seek your figure amongst the crowded hallways. He was waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike so he could have a plausible excuse to talk to you. But it was as if you had vanished from the castle. He would see your two friends who you were inseparable with walking around without you. It confounded him. Where had you disappeared to?
"Lestrange."
The boy startled at Tom's voice, tripping over his own feet before righting himself. He turned to meet the Prefect's sharp gaze. "Yes?"
"The girl. What do you know about her?"
Lestrange's brows furrowed thoughtfully. "The candidate for the ball?"
Tom heavily resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "Yes, Lestrange. Who else?"
"Well, she's very reserved, and is very...picky with who she keeps in her circle, so I have not managed to talk to her. But from what I have gathered, she's from a good, respectable family, excellent grades, and the ball gown she has chosen is not ridiculous."
Tom rose an inquisitive brow. "How do you know about the ball gown?"
Lestrange shrugged. "Shagged her redhead friend the other day and saw her dress laying on her bed." He said as if it was the most obvious explanation. "You would approve." He winked.
Tom resisted the tempting urge to roll his eyes yet again. Depraved and idiotic as Lestrange was, Tom could not deny his questionable ways were effective. "Anything else?"
The boy scratched the back of his head, suddenly looking sheepish. "Er...she may or may not have a boyfriend." At Riddle's heated glare, Lestrange threw his arms up in defence. "In my defence, I knew it would not be a problem for you!"
Tom decided it was not wroth wasting his time to curse the younger boy, so he sighed tiredly. "Get me her schedule."
"Oh, no..."
༻♛༺
He had not anticipated that while on the quest of hunting the girl down, she would come looking for him herself.
"Riddle!" A feminine voice yelled out his name from across the empty corridor. He heard the hasty approaching footsteps behind him as he turned around, and was surprised to see you storming towards him with fury on your face.
He rose a brow in acknowledgement, which seemed to make you angrier. "What the fuck are you doing?" You seethed.
"Taking a peaceful stroll?" He deadpanned.
Your glare intensified at his mannerism, and you crossed your arms over your chest in indignation. "Care to explain why your little Lestrange has been following me around?"
Tom kept his expression neutral, although internally he was cursing Lestrange's lack of talents for being inconspicuous. "Do I look like his father? Why do you assume me responsible for his actions?"
"Do not play dumb with me Riddle." You huffed, pointing an accusatory finger in his face.
"Perhaps he has taken a fancy. How am I to know?" Tom simply shrugged. His nonchalant demeanour only fused your anger more, and you took a step closer to him as you seethed.
"First you eavesdrop on our private conversation—"
"Which was about me, so it's a little contreversial—"
"—and now you've got your goon following me around—"
"Again, why him following you is my problem?"
You threw your hands in the air, seemingly done with his behaviour. "You are insufferable! Merlin's beard, it's like talking to a—"
"Go to the ball with me."
Whatever you were about to say died in your throat, leaving you to blink up at him in stunned silence, trying to process his words. "What?" Was the only coherent thing that you were able to croak out.
This time it was Tom who stepped closer to you, hands stuffed in his pockets as he casually repeated his earlier statement. "Be my date to the ball."
You managed to gather enough of your wits to let out an incredulous laugh. "Have you gone mad? Do I need to help you into the Hospital Wing?"
"I'm perfectly fine." The corner of his lips curled into a smirk as he leaned in, his presence invading your space. "Now, say yes."
"You can't just demand that I be your date, Riddle." Your voice was sharp with exasperation, still grappling with whatever was going on in his head. "Besides, I already have a date. My boyfriend. Naturally." You added.
"Ah, of course. The dimwit that you can barely tolerate?" He asked smugly, a pointed jab at the conversation he'd overheard days before.
Your lips parted, indignation flaring as you struggled to formulate a rebuttal. "I tolerate him just fine," you finally managed, though even to your own ears, it sounded weak and far too defensive.
"Reputable enough to please your parents, but not skilled enough to please you I would wager." He countered.
"How dare you!" you hissed, your voice rising despite yourself.
Tom tilted his head, his smirk unfaltering. "Did I strike a nerve? My apologies. It’s just hard to watch someone of your... caliber settling for mediocrity."
Your jaw clenched, and despite fighting it, heat flared in your cheeks. You might have not liked Tom Riddle, but that did not mean you did not know just how rare it was to receive a compliment from him. And his words had been a compliment. So of course, it was only natural for you to get flustered. But you would not concede to him so easily. "You are delusional, Riddle. The only thing that matters is that he is far better company than an arrogant, self-important—"
"A self-important what?" Tom interrupted, his tone low and sharp enough to cut. His dark eyes bore into yours, leaving the retort stuck in your throat.
You stepped back, trying to put space between you, but Tom mirrored the movement, closing the gap effortlessly.
"You’re deflecting," he said smoothly, his voice laced with quiet amusement. "If you truly cared for him, you wouldn’t feel so unnerved, you would not struggle so needlessly to list his likeable traits, and you most definitely would not be so willing to have this conversation."
"Willing?" you echoed, the word tumbling out before you could stop it. You let out a sharp breath, shaking your head. "Oh, Riddle, it is not my fault you mistook my utter disdain and aggravation for you as interest." You taunted. "As a matter of fact, before you are more mislead, I am done indulging whatever this is." You turned on your heel, intending to storm away, but you barely took a step before a hand shot out, catching your wrist.
"We are not done yet" Tom’s voice was low and composed, but there was a dangerous edge to it, one that sent a shiver down your spine.
"Let go, Riddle," you demanded, attempting to yank your hand free.
Instead, he moved faster than you anticipated, stepping in front of you and backing you up against the wall behind you. Your back hit the cool stone, and you instinctively braced yourself with your hands against his chest, trying to push him away.
He didn’t budge.
His arms caged you in, palms flat against the wall on either side of your head. The smirk on his face was gone, replaced by something darker, more intent.
Your breath caught in your throat, and your eyes flickered around the empty corridor for any passerby. Were you to be caught in this compromising position with a boy, alone in an empty corridor, while courting someone else, you would be utterly ruined.
"Riddle, this is hardly appropriate. Let me go."
"Why should I?" he murmured, his voice velvety smooth as his face hovered far too close to yours. His head dipped slightly, and you froze as his nose brushed against your cheek, a slow and deliberate motion that sent a shiver racing down your spine. "I have got you right where I wan."
"Riddle," you said warningly, though the word came out more breathless than you intended.
His nose trailed downward, skimming along your jawline and then the curve of your throat. You inhaled sharply, your hands curling into fists against his chest, unsure if you were bracing yourself or preparing to push him away.
"Stop it," you tried again.
"Why?" he asked again, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin just below your ear as he spoke. The warmth of his breath against your neck made your heart race despite yourself. "Because you might start to enjoy it?"
Your breath stuttered when you felt his fingertips grazing along the hemline of your skirt. You knew this was outrageous behaviour, and you really should have screamed for someone, but his fingers left a fire trail and you felt as if you were being put under a spell. You had never felt this alive, this hot, this desperate for—
His lips hovered at your ear, his breath hot against your skin, sending shivers down your spine. "Say yes to the ball," he murmured, "and I will make you feel things you’ve never felt before... and never will again."
Your resolve almost faltered, your breath coming in shallow pulls as his words coiled around you like a spell. You could feel the walls you’d so carefully built beginning to crack under his relentless pressure.
Just as the word teetered on the edge of your tongue, a sound broke through the haze. Footsteps echoed down the corridor, drawing closer. The sharp reminder of reality snapped you back to your senses and your eyes snapped open.
Summoning every ounce of strength, you shoved him hard in the chest. He didn’t stumble, but he let you go, a sly, knowing smirk playing on his lips as he straightened to his full height.
"You’re impertinent and unbelievable," you hissed, your voice low but trembling with leftover emotion from what you had just experienced. Without waiting for his reply, you turned and bolted, your hurried steps echoing as you disappeared around the corner.
Behind you, Tom’s laughter followed, low and rich, like a predator enjoying the chase. After all, this was just a game for him. But he had not expected it to be so entertaining.
༻♛༺
Breakfast was a usual affair as you sat across from Adam Montague in the Great Hall, his voice a constant hum in the background as he rambled about Quidditch and the upcoming match schedule. Normally, you’d feign enthusiasm or at least muster the energy to listen politely. Today, however, your thoughts were consumed by a pair of dark, calculating eyes and the memory of hands that had left a trail of fire in their wake.
Tom Riddle. Of course. Somehow amidst your determination to avoid fawning after him like everyone else in the castle did, you had become just like them— with thoughts plagued by him.
Even thinking of his name itself felt like a forbidden secret, heavy and dangerous, lodged deep in your chest and an ache in your head. Yet no matter how much you tried to keep it at bay, the memory of him refused to fade.
You could still feel the ghost of his breath against your ear, the heat of his hand as it crept beneath your skirt, and the way he’d whispered those words—low, commanding, and laced with desires you shouldn’t want to hear.
You shifted in your seat, your skin prickling with awareness as the memory played over and over in your mind. It wasn’t just what he’d done— it was how he’d done it—with utter confidence, as though he already knew how you would respond, how your body would betray you before your mind could catch up.
And he had been right.
The thought made you burn with equal parts shame and longing. You shouldn’t crave the way his touch had made your pulse race, the way his voice had wrapped around you like silk.
"...and if the Harpies can pull off another win, they’ll have a real shot at the Cup this year," Adam said, his voice rising with excitement.
"That’s... great," you murmured automatically, like you always did, though your mind wasn’t even in the same room.
You remembered his face when he’d pinned you against the wall, his smirk infuriating and his proximity suffocating in the best possible way. You’d told him to stop, but deep down, you hadn’t wanted him to. Not really.
The truth clawed at you. The horrifying realisation that no one had ever made you feel the way Tom did in those fleeting minutes. Not Adam Montague. Not anyone.
You glanced at Adam, who was still talking, utterly oblivious to the war waging inside you. His blue eyes sparkled with excitement as he gestured animatedly, still drolling on about Quidditch. He was everything a good boyfriend should be—dependable, safe, respectable enough for your parents.
But safe wasn’t what you wanted.
Your stomach twisted. You didn’t just crave Tom’s touch or his words; you craved the way he made you feel alive. The way he challenged you, unraveled you, almost pushed you to the edge of something you didn’t quite understand but desperately wanted to explore.
And what vexed you the most was the fact that he had done all of that in a matter of minutes. He had made you feel all that with one interaction. Perhaps everyone around you had been right about him and his irresistible charm.
Damn you, Tom Riddle. You thought bitterly.
You realised you needed to escape and clear your head when Adam launched yet into another analysis of Quidditch tactics Harpies could employ to secure the Cup and you felt the walls closing in around you. 
"I just remembered," you blurted, cutting him off mid-sentence. "I wanted to ask Professor Slughorn something about the essay due tomorrow. I will head to class early."
Adam blinked, surprised at being interrupted so abruptly. Then he shrugged, muttering a befuddled 'okay'. Grabbing your bag, you stood, planting a quick kiss on his cheek before turning on your heel and heading toward the exit. The moment you stepped into the corridor, a wave of relief washed over you, though it was quickly overshadowed by the devil himself.
You had not even made it far when his voice cut through the air. "Running from something, or someone?"
Your stomach dropped. Turning your head, you found Tom walking toward you, his stride calm and assured, his dark eyes glinting with amusement.
"Go away," you said sharply, quickening your pace.
He didn’t miss a beat, easily falling into step beside you. "That’s hardly polite. Especially since we’re headed to the same place."
You frowned, glancing at him. "What are you talking about?"
He arched a brow, his smirk widening. "We have the same class. Surely you haven’t forgotten?"
Your lips pressed into a thin line. Of course he would find a way to make your morning even more unbearable. "Fine," you muttered, clutching your bag tighter. "Walk wherever you want, just don’t talk to me."
"Such hostility," he said, his tone light but laced with mockery. "I wonder if Montague would approve of your temper."
You shot him a glare. "Adam has nothing to do with this."
"Doesn’t he?" Tom asked. "If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were avoiding him just now. Tell me, how does it feel to lie to your boyfriend so early in the day?"
Your cheeks burned, but you refused to dignify him with a response. Instead, you quickened your pace, hoping he’d get bored and leave you alone.
He didn’t.
By the time you reached the classroom, your nerves were frayed, and you stormed inside, determined to put as much space between you and him as possible. Sliding into a seat near the middle, you silently willed the rest of the room to fill with other students.
But of course, Tom wasn’t finished. With a deliberate smirk, he crossed the space and sat down in the chair beside yours.
"You’ve got to be joking," you muttered under your breath, refusing to look at him.
"Now, now," he drawled, his voice low enough that only you could hear. "Shouldn’t we at least try to get along? After all, we’ll be spending so much time together."
You turned to him sharply, your irritation bubbling over. "What are you talking about now?"
He leaned back in his chair, his posture relaxed, though his eyes gleamed in amusement. "Oh, nothing." A pause. "Just that the ball is approaching, and I’m a man of my word."
Your stomach flipped, his implication clear. You opened your mouth to respond, but the professor’s arrival cut you off, forcing you to bite back whatever retort you had planned.
"Ah, Mr. Riddle!" Slughorn’s jovial voice boomed as he clapped his hands together. "I trust you’ve been giving the essay topic some thought. I’m particularly eager to hear your take on the use of powdered asphodel in calming draughts. Such a fascinating ingredient! Might you indulge me in what your take is?"
Tom inclined his head, his expression the perfect craft of false modesty. "I believe powdered asphodel is essential for crafting a truly effective calming draught. Without it, the potion’s efficacy in more severe cases is significantly diminished."
You couldn’t stop yourself from scoffing. "Essential? That's an overstatement. Asphodel might enhance the effects, but it risks leaving the drinker overly reliant. A calming draught should ease anxiety, not render someone unable to cope without it."
Tom turned to you, and you immediately regretted speaking up upon seeing the amused smirk plastered on his mouth "An interesting argument, but overly cautious. Without asphodel’s potency, the potion becomes too mild to address real crises. A weak solution is no solution at all."
You narrowed your eyes. "There’s nothing weak about proper balance. Valerian root and peppermint, for instance, can achieve the same calming effect without the risk of long-term harm."
Slughorn looked between you with visible delight, like a spectator at a match. "Ah, how I delight in a healthy debate! Keep at it, you two. This is precisely the sort of engagement I hoped the topic would bring. I look forward to reading both of your essays." He winked and sauntered off towards his desk just as the students began filing into the classroom.
Then, Adam Montague walked in, his steps faltering the moment he spotted Tom sitting beside you. His eyes widened, and his lips parted in confusion. "What the hell are you doing there, Riddle?"
Tom, utterly unbothered, leaned back slightly, a smug smile tugging at his lips. "I wasn’t aware this seat was reserved. Perhaps you should have labeled it, Montague." His tone dripped with mock innocence.
Adam glared, his jaw tightening. "It’s my seat. I sit there every class—next to my girlfriend."
"Ah," Tom replied coolly, glancing at you with deliberate slowness. "Shame you didn’t put a label on her either." He drawled.
Adam’s face flushed, his hands balling into fists. "Get up. Now."
"I do not think I will."
Adam took a threatening step forward, but Slughorn suddenly clapped his hands again. "Settle down, everyone! Time to begin." His cheerful tone left no room for argument.
With a frustrated huff, Adam reluctantly moved to a desk across the room, his glare burning holes into the back of Tom’s head. Meanwhile, Tom leaned slightly toward you, his voice low enough that only you could hear. "Bit possessive, isn’t he?" He hummed quietly. "Though perhaps not enough. Were it me who had you, I would not let you out of my sight."
You gaped at him, wondering if he had lost his wits. "Excuse me? I am not something to be owned, Riddle."
His hand dropped under the table and you barely suppressed a gasp when you felt it land on your thigh, grazing dangerously high under your skirt. "And yet...I would treat you as if you were my greatest possession."
Heat surged to your cheeks, and you quickly averted your gaze, utterly flustered by his words. The quiet intensity of his voice and the sheer audacity of his statement left your heart racing in a way you couldn’t explain. You quickly pushed his hand away without drawing any attention. Desperate to put some distance between you, you shifted your chair an inch or two away from him, the scrape of wood against stone louder than you intended. You kept your focus firmly on the front of the classroom, determined to concentrate on Slughorn’s voice as he began explaining the potion you would be brewing.
Out of the corner of your eye, you caught the faintest flicker of his smirk, as though he knew exactly how much he’d unsettled you—and relished it.
You gritted your teeth and stared resolutely at the blackboard, clutching your quill tightly. There was no way you’d let him see just how much he had gotten under your skin. You told yourself you only needed just enough willpower to get through this class and then you would be free.
And when finally the bell rang, signaling the end of class, you bolted from your seat. You didn’t want to give Tom any more time to—to do whatever it was he was doing to you. You headed straight for the door, but before you could make your escape, you heard Adam’s voice behind you.
"Hey! Wait up!"
You sighed and turned around reluctantly. Adam was quick to catch up, his brows furrowed in confusion. "What the hell was that back there?" His eyes flickered from you to the empty seat beside Tom. "Why didn’t you say anything? You just let him sit there."
You tried to offer a casual shrug, hoping he wouldn’t notice the way your pulse was still racing. "It’s not a big deal."
"But he was all over you," Adam said, his voice low with irritation. "And you just—"
"Adam, you're a big boy. I'm sure you do not need me to stand up for yourself." You cut him off, a bit sharper than you intended. "Really. Let’s just drop it, okay?"
He stared at you for a moment, clearly unconvinced, but he finally nodded. "Alright, but this isn’t over. We will talk during dinner." He stated with a frown before turning to walk to his next class.
You had a free period, so you decided you would head to the library to get ahead in your studies. But as always, peace and quiet did not come easily to you. Not when Riddle was concerned.
When you saw him leaning against the wall, patiently watching you, you almost screamed from frustration. "No! Absolutely not. I am not having any more interactions with you. Whatever was going on, is done. Go ruin someone else's life with your presence, and fuck off from mine."
He pushed off the wall, crossing the distance between you slowly, as if a predator trying not to startle its prey. You took a step back with bated breath with each step he took forward, and in a blink, he grabbed a hold of your hand and began leading you away from the corridor. You tried to wriggle out of his grip, but the action just encouraged him to tighten his hold.
"Riddle!" You tried, but he shot you a dark look shadowed by a loose strand of raven-black hair over his eyes. The dangerous glint in his stare sent a chill down your spine.
Before you knew what was happening, he pulled you into a dark alcove, hidden from the gaze of any potential prying eyes. Your pulse quickened at the way he cornered you, feeling his breath against your skin.
"I'm starting to think you have a thing for dark hidden corners." You muttered, trying vainly to distract yourself from his close proximity.
He ignored your comment. "One kiss," he murmured, his lips barely brushing your ear. "And I’ll leave you alone."
You narrowed your eyes, trying to maintain some semblance of control. "One kiss?" you scoffed, taking a step back, though he followed, keeping you trapped against the wall. "And what do you think is going to make me give in to this nonsense you're asking me?"
Tom chuckled softly as he slowly grazed a finger along your collarbone. "I don’t think you’ll give in. I think you’ll want to."
Your heart skipped a beat at his touch, but you refused to show it. "I don’t want anything from you." You shook your head, trying to remain defiant. "Stop playing games, Riddle. I’m not some toy for you to use and discard."
Tom smirked, one eyebrow raised. "If I wanted a toy, I’d choose something less... challenging." He stepped in even closer, his body fully touching yours now, and you could feel the heat radiating off of him. "But you, you’re more interesting. So, here’s the deal—one kiss, and I’ll leave you alone. After all, you don’t seem to be able to resist me, do you?"
For a weak moment, you hesitated. He was close, too close, and the air between you crackled with an intensity you couldn’t deny.
"I’m not some damsel who will fall for a cheap trick, Riddle," you retorted, though the words were hollow, even to you.
Tom’s eyes darkened, and he reached out, cupping your chin with his fingers, forcing you to look him in the eye. "And yet here you are, trapped in my web, pretending you don’t want this just as much as I do." His voice was low, intimate, and it sent a shiver down your spine. "One kiss and I promise, then I will let you go."
You inhaled sharply, torn between the desire to push him away and the overwhelming temptation to give in. For the briefest moment, you wondered what it would be like—just one kiss, one taste of what he was offering. He would not back down until he got what he wanted, and you knew that, so you decided to end your own torture by giving in.
"Fine," you muttered, almost against your will, your voice low with frustration. "But just one."
Tom’s smirk deepened as he leaned in, his lips brushing yours in a slow, almost teasing manner. It started gentle, a light pressure, before he deepened the kiss, and you felt your resolve start to slip away. His hand slid to your waist, pulling you closer, canting your bodies together, and the action almost made you whimper.
You were not supposed to enjoy this.
Frightened by your own pleasure at the way he had kissed you, you placed your palms on his chest and pushed him. When he pulled away, his eyes gleamed with triumph. "I’ve changed my mind," he murmured, his voice silky. "Go to the ball with me. And I’ll leave you alone."
You blinked, momentarily stunned. "No. No, Riddle, you promised you would stop."
Tom’s smirk was sharp, almost cruel. He suddenly stepped away from you, his form no longer caging you against the wall. "I promised I would let you go. And I did just now. I did not promise anything about the ball."
Your breath caught, your chest tightening. "You can’t—"
"I can," he interrupted, his tone final. "And I will. So, say yes, and I’ll leave you in peace. But if you don’t..." He let the threat hang in the air for a moment. "Or I’ll tell Montague about this little... encounter."
You stared at him, your heart racing, in disbelief over what he was saying—no— what he was threatening you with. Your breath hitched as he leaned closer again, his lips brushing against your ear as he spoke. "And I think Malfoy would be very interested in knowing that Adam’s place on the Quidditch team is up for discussion. One word from me and he’s off the team for good."
You opened your mouth to protest, but he silenced you with a soft, teasing kiss—brief, but enough to make your heart race even faster. When he pulled back, his gaze was firm. "Say yes. Or everything he values will slip right through his fingers."
The silence stretched between you as you hesitated, but deep down, you knew there was only one choice. "Fine," you muttered, your voice small, but the fire in his eyes made your chest tighten. "I’ll go. But only because you’re threatening him."
Tom’s smirk returned, but there was something else there now—satisfaction, and perhaps a touch of something else you couldn’t quite place. "Whatever helps you sleep at night, darling." He said as he pulled away completely. You watched him walk away, slumped against the wall, completely helpless as his chuckle echoed down the hall.
༻♛༺
112 notes · View notes
tsukii0002 · 1 day ago
Note
I'd like to request a situation where the brothers react to MC doing that trend about girls calling their boyfriend "husband" in front of people. For example
*MC and a bother (any) are at a restaurant and a waiter has come to take their order*
MC: so I'd like this and this, and my *husband* (pointing at the brother) would like-
The brother: *melting inside and panicking*
Then they'll bug MC for the entire day, maybe even week
<3
Hi! , thanks for the suggestion, I loved thinking about these situations. I hope you like it.
Warning: I wasn't sure how to write these situations so the formatting may be a bit messy, and in this case Mc is the same person as the reader.
Lucifer
You had invited Lucifer to the human world, to one of your favorite coffee shops where you were already known, to give the eldest of the brothers a break. When the waitress approached you, she recognized you immediately.
Waitress: Hello Mc! Good to see you, who is with you today?
Mc: Hi, this is my husband.
The only thing that changed in his expression was a slight blush on his cheeks, but from under the table he reached for your hand to squeeze it tightly. The waitress smiled mischievously and after leaving the menu she left. Then Lucifer's face colored more and he caught you in his arms. You could see the adoration and embarrassment on his face.
Lucifer: Should we stay here for a few days my spouse?
Mammon
You had gone to the cinema with Mammon, he was a bit discouraged because he had just lost money at the casino, so although he had accepted he was rather quiet. You went ahead to order the drinks.
Employee: What are you going to order?
Mc: Oh, I'll have the demon combo and for my husband the spicy combo.
You saw how the demon's skin bristled, as if an electric shock had hit him. He looked at you wide-eyed, his face very red, repeatedly opening and closing his mouth without saying anything. You paid and went to the screening room, he kept covering his face the whole time.
Mc: *smiling* Is something wrong?
Mammon: You... *still blushing* say it again…
Mc: What do you want me to say again husband?
Mammon: *shyly* Don't forget it ok? *hugging you tightly* I'm your husband and you're my spouse.
Levi
A package had arrived for Levi, he asked you to take it even though he was following you very closely. The delivery man didn't seem sure it was yours.
Delivery man: Is it for you?
Mc: No, no, it's for my husband.
You could feel a high-pitched squeal. Levi felt his body stop working, and soon he was a mess, opening and closing his mouth trying to say something with no success. He had to have misheard, there was no way you could have called him that, was there?
Levi: A- Aaa… *stammering* Are you serious???
Mc: Of course.
Levi: For real ???? Are you sure??!!
Mc: *laughing* Yes xrubbing his nose* now could my husband help me with this????
Levi: New achievement unlocked!!!! You have been promoted to husband!!! *looking at you with crystalline eyes* I promise not to disappoint you… spouse…
Satan
Satan had asked you to accompany him to an event, the place was full of the demon's acquaintances and he was so busy greeting them all, that you ended up talking to one or twi.
Random Demon: Where do you know Satan from?
Mc: Oh, he's my husband.
Satan, a few steps away from you, kept talking for a moment and then stopped, turned very slowly to look at you with an expression of being very afraid that he had imagined those words. But when you smiled, his face instantly flushed. Trying to remain calm, with trembling hands, he ended the conversation quickly and approached you, taking your hands.
Satan: You…
Mc: Is something wrong *grinning*, my husband?
Satan took a breath while looking at the ground ashamed, all the demons nearby were watching. He let the air out and slowly pulled himself together while hugging you.
Satan: Nothing is wrong *smiling* spouse, let's enjoy this evening.
Asmo
You were out partying with Asmo, and, as usual, your demon was already surrounded by fans and admirers. Everyone was clamoring for his attention and it was clear that Asmo enjoyed the attention he was getting, so you simply smiled when a demon approached you.
Demon: Asmo is your friend right?
Mc: Asmo? *raising your voice* he's my husband.
Asmo's cheeks lit up and his whole body seemed to glow even brighter. He brought his hands to his face, everyone was impressed, the confident Asmo was beautiful but the embarrassed Asmo was an equally pleasing sight. You walked over and held out your hand.
Mc: We should go home *smiling* husband?
Asmo rushed into your arms and started kissing you, while the color in his cheeks became more and more accentuated.
Asmo: What have I done to deserve you? I love you so much Mc.
Mc: Just that?
Asmo: *shaking his head* I love you with all my being… spouse.
Beel
Beel had offered to accompany you on some errands related to the sorcerers' society. While you were talking to some of them he was watching you carefully. But some of those eyes were fixed on him.
Sorcerer: Is he…? You know…
Mc: Oh? Beel? He's my husband.
The eyes of the sorcerers opened wide while Beel, took a few seconds to assimilate your words and immediately became very red, He looked at the ground did not know where to look. His hands were moving without finding a position and he had started to sweat.
Mc: Isn't it true?
Beel slowly looked into your eyes before looking back down at the ground, with that embarrassed puppy face, as he nodded silently, but with a big smile. You moved closer and he put his arm around you protectively as he leaned down to caress your cheek with his own.
Beel: So if I'm your husband… that makes you my spouse, right? *radiant smile*
Belphie
You and Belphie were lying in the attic, Belphie was half asleep while you were on a video call with your friends in the human world.
Friend: Oh Mc, is someone there?
Mc: Yes, this is Belphie *showing him with the camera* My husband.
Belphie's sleep faded instantly, and he looked at you with wide eyes, you smiled at him while your friends screamed in excitement, then he pouted a little while his cheeks lit up.
Friends: Why didn't you tell us any-
Without thinking he snatched the phone from you and cut the call, hiding in the crook of your neck. He squeezed your hand and looked at you, looking angry but unable to hide his embarrassment or excitement.
Belphie: So I had a spouse and I didn't know about it?
Mc: I don't know...*pushes his bangs aside* maybe I was wrong?
Belphie: No *hugging you tightly* only I am your husband, and you are going to have this husband forever… remember that.
.
.
Hi, I realized that I had a few finished requests that I had left in drafts *internal scream* 🙃 how can I be so forgetful!!?? I will upload them during the next few days, so I'm really sorry to those who asked for them. Another thing is that I was extending the situations as the brothers are passing, well Lucifer is the most popular (?) so it's fine 🙄.
If you've read this far thank you very much 🩷.
.
.
133 notes · View notes
bb-dot-move-daisies · 8 hours ago
Text
MORE. MORE.
1. who fell first/who fell harder?
oh shit...i think they both were on the same page the whole time, except they have severely different ways of expressing it. but i wanna say...kylie, then kylie again.
(2/3/4 absolutely no idea what these are.)
5. (two QUEEN song titles, huh?) who killer queen, who good old fashioned loverboy? kylie for both.
6. go to pet names for each other?
daisy sticks to the classics like "honey", "dear", "sugar" — meanwhile kylie genuinely uses pet names to remember people, so she gets a little more creative. i think the main ones kylie has for daisy are "smokeshow", and "spacegirl"
7. what are their star signs? i have to google this.
kylie was born on the 29th of February, daisy was born on December 31st. pisces and capricorn. (and wikihow says they're compatible; awesome.)
8. (paraphrasing) where in the los gibitties are they?
daisy is a cis lesbian gray ace attorney; kylie's a genderfluid transfemme, who uses she/they with the occasional "masc associated" words (like "handsome", "dad/daddy", etc), and identifies herself as a "lesbian with a biiiiiig asterisks"
9. soulmates by chance. pure chance.
10. skip.
11. (paraphrasing) who's more random in public, and who says "unfortunately thats the love of my life" i have no idea, honestly. i feel like daisy, when drunk and happy can be quite expressive and loud, and kylie would just...fall in love all over again.
12. three songs that remind me of:
Daisy:
- first love/late spring
- washing machine heart
- my love all mine
(it's all mitski 😭😭😭😭💥🚛🕊️)
(i think, subconsciously, daisy's design is heavily based on the kind of women mitski writes about. and whenever i write daisy talking, i tend to go the kind of weird figurative language route that mitski tends to go for in her music...so i think thats why.)
Kylie:
- mr. blue sky - electric light orchestra
- the blonde - tv girl
- and this ones just a straight up Movie, but, pretty woman starring julia roberts and richard gere.
13. who's "tell me im pretty" and who's "ur annoying" (so many of these questions are in that "who tops" type format, but ill answer anyway. cuz its fun.)
daisy never asks kylie to tell her she's pretty, but kylie can feel when she needs it, so she says it. and daisy expresses her love for kylie in protective, but — at times — overly rude quips, because deep down, she can't stand the idea of HER woman in danger.
(also Kylie's a subby top.)
14. love languagesss!!! my favourite trademarked set of behaviours!!!
gifts, and service from kylie. service, and words for daisy.
15. yknow despite the fact that one of my girls is an astronaut i have no idea what "sun moon star eclipse" is. skip.
16. non sexual acts of intimacy.
- kylie cooking the foods daisy likes and remembering how she likes them.
- in bed, whispering about their days, and all the hours spent without each other at work
- daisy showering while kylie shits.
17. i...cant imagine either of them in a physical fight,...theyre both athletic to some degree, i just cant imagine them having the desire to fight for themselves.... Maybe Daisy? daisy has more bloodlust. but fuck i dont know. she could never beat kylie in a fight. right? even if kylie doesn't fight back, she's canonically bigger and heavier...daisy could throw a million punches while kylie does nothing and it would be a fair match.
18. three other ships from other things that remind me of daisy and kylie:
- fucking Arin and Suzy from game grumps.
19. who likes dogs who likes cats? kylie loves dogs. daisy hates animals. she'll take a Cool Fish™ , maybe, but could never take care of it
20. favorite thing about each other?
daisy likes that kylie doesn't need to be babied. that—on the contrary, kylie takes care of, and pampers daisy (as she deserves). kylie can be kinda shallow at times, but she's good with her hands, and quick on her feet. — that's what daisy likes about kylie. she can rely on her.
kylie likes...everything about daisy. to kylie, daisy is the kind of girl they wanna write home about. yknow? she likes that daisy's smart—she's a reader, she fills the gaps in conversation where kylie just prefers to listen. she's a good cuddle. she has pretty hair. she looks sexy in everything. she makes a lot of money. she's awesome to cook for. she's a competent mother. her family adooores her. (and this one's selfish) but daisy can be a bit of an insomniac, so she's still quite Active late at night; which works for kylie (nightshifter), cus now she has someone to come home to.
21. do they ever match??? in clothing? no, bc there's a severe gap in the way that they dress and shop. however i can see daisy wearing kylies t-shirts and boxers around the house...and i can see kylie wearing daisy's stuff for more Fashionable events
22. their own little ways of saying i love you:
- daisy protects kylie. but would risk crossing her own comfort zones for kylie. and when kylie's in bed, she falls asleep a little easier, because kylie protects her too.
- kylie pets daisy hair, and kisses every inch of her body. kylie waits to see daisy, almost every time. she's at her beck and call.
23. daisy wouldn't marry herself, and neither would kylie. they both kinda hate themselves a lot.
24. coffee or tea? coffee for both
25. one to five tropes they could embody in an au:
- highschool au (the real alteration being that the girls arent four years apart)
i think the reason for this is because the way i write kylie is heavily based on the way i write GRENDAN in my dr*wtectives highschool fics (fun fact) (censoring so they don't FIND ME.)
kylie is a gifted kid with severe imposter's syndrome, meanwhile daisy is an overachiever with no friends.
that's always a fun dynamic for me.
- princess x peasant is another good one for these two...
i think daisy would make an amazing politician,
princesses are just... politicians with a facecard. but i also believe that kylie's girldick is strong enough to tear the military down
🌙 * ― silly little unique trivia about your otp.❫
who fell first, and who fell harder?
their hypothetical godly parents (or a deity they could embody in a mythological setting).
soldiers, poets, or kings?
the olive theory according to them (and their palate).
who's the ‘good old-fashioned lover boy’, and who's the ‘killer-queen’?
go-to pet names they have for each other, if any.
what are their star signs? (i know nothing about astrology, but it's funky so out with it!)
their sexual orientations and/or gender identities.
soulmates by fate/chance or by choice?
their hypothetical hogwarts houses, either traditionally speaking, so to say, or following the sortinghatchats method. (alternatively, if you'd rather: their alignment by dnd standards).
who's more likely to do stupid, impulsive, or random stuff, and who's there being like, ‘regrettably, that's the love of my life’?
one to three songs that remind you of them.
who's the “tell me i'm pretty” one, and who's the “you're pretty fucking annoying is what you are” in the relationship?
their love languages.
sun, moon, stars, earth, or eclipse?
three to five non-sexual acts of intimacy.
who's the “i could beat the shit out of you” one, and who's the “i know” one?
one to three other ships from other pieces of media that may remind you of them.
who's the dog person, and who's the cat person? (other pets or animals may also apply.)
their absolute favourite thing about each other in the whole wide world.
do they ever match in any way?
their own little way (or ways) to say ‘i love you’.
who's the “i wouldn't marry myself either” one, and who's the “i would marry you with parer rings” one? (alternatively: i'd marry you with paper rings vs. i'm rich. i'll get you a diamond)?
coffee or tea?
one to five tropes they embody or could pull off in an AU.
345 notes · View notes
elryuse · 2 days ago
Text
My Toxic Ex
Yandere Seola X Male Reader
Tags : Cheating Seola, Toxic Seola, Regrets, Yandere, Obsessive, Forceful Sex, Hatred, Manipulation, Pregnancy?
Words : 3,4509 Words
Tumblr media
This Is a Commission Work for My friend @Pizza_anon on Ko-fi. I hope you like it Buddy.
"Seola..what the fuck". Y/n yelled, as He saw a terrible sight. His girlfriend of 2 years, have been sleeping with guys all around campus, as she giggles and moaned. Y/n was heartbroken, Seeing how seola clearly enjoyed it.
Seola his once pure and caring Girlfriend, was changed. She was no longer the cheerful, happy, and loving girlfriend once more. She became toxic, cruel, manipulative. Sometimes Y/n wondered what went wrong, What did he do wrong. As her habits grew more and more destructive, Y/n finally has enough.
After a ton of Cheating that she has done, Y/n was finally tired. He's tired hearing all of this news from his friends that Seola is with another guy, Seola slept with some guy, etc. He's done. And so, He simply left. He moved into a new College, far from Seola. He slowly composed himself, Getting his mentality into a better state. As he finally made new friends, and left the ties from his previous life.
Y/n met a beautiful girl. Eunji, was her name. She was cute, smart, and most importantly, Caring. It has been years, since Y/n felt loved, wanted. And it clearly shows, as after a few months of dating her, Y/n was committed to become his boyfriend. Eunji smiled, as she hugged him under the Apple tree. However, as Y/n may thinks this story would end on a happy ending. It was from happy, nor sad. It would be devastating.
Seola, Who all this time was busy having fun with guys all over the campus found herself stuck in a limbo. A sudden news, Her porn videos and naked pics were leaked all over the internet, and most importantly on her university. This made her popularity crumble into dust. As people began mocking her, slut shaming her, and what's even worse, the friends that she thought was there for her, turned out to be the monster that leaked all of her vids and pics.
They all laugh, as they sneered at her, mocking her. Seola was broken. The guys who she slept with, didn't bother to care for her. Instead they feel more proud than ever, as they still kept those videos and pictures all inside their phones. Seola trembles, as day by day, Her friends would leave her, and in the end, the were none left.
Seola suddenly remembered about Y/n. The man who truly cared for her. The man who actually cared for her. She suddenly cried, as She started to remember all of those good times she had with him. She remembered the time where the two got into a small fight, and even though it was unnecessary his fault, Y/n still decided to be the one who apologize first, which made Seola really happy and proud.
She imagined, if she still go back to him. Will he accept her apology. Will he still get back with her, after all of this time, and after all of this suffering that she gave him. Seola was stucked, didn't know what to do, what to act. But she thinks again and again, and not wanting to regrets her decision, she finally started to do some research on Y/n.
And to her surprise and shock, Y/n looked different. He seems happy. His smile, that once was shown to her, now shines brightly on the digital screen, He shares the world about his new girlfriend, Eunji. The two seems perfect, they lack any negativity, far beyond what Y/n and Seola used to have. At that moment, Seola cried. She had lost. She had truly made the biggest mistake in her life.
As she caresses the phone screen once more, a devious plan suddenly showed up. She could still win him over. She could still be with him. And even though this plan would hurt her and him, She didn't care. She only wanted Y/n to be with her again. And so, Any plans good or bad, suddenly become the pinnacle of the system. Seola laughed, as She opened a small wrinkled picture from her jacket. A photo of Y/n and Her. She knew, This wasn't going to be easy. But she knows, that whatever the outcome is, She'll have him back.
As Y/n and Eunji get up from their tiring slumber, He could see that today was a good day. The Sun was shining brightly, the clouds doesn't look cloudy. The evening air was crisp, the kind that made you want to pull your jacket tighter around yourself. Y/n walked home from Eunji’s apartment, his mind still buzzing with the warmth of her laugh and the softness of her touch. He couldn’t believe how different life felt now—how free he was. No more walking on eggshells, no more wondering if Seola would blow up over something trivial. For the first time in years, he felt like he could breathe.
But as he turned the corner onto his quiet street, a familiar silhouette caught his eye. His heart skipped a beat. No. It can’t be.
Seola stood under the flickering streetlamp, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. She looked... smaller somehow, less vibrant than the girl he remembered. Her once perfectly styled hair was slightly disheveled, and her makeup, though still striking, couldn’t hide the shadows under her eyes.
“Y/n,” she said softly, her voice trembling just enough to make him pause. “We need to talk.”
He clenched his jaw, stopping a few feet away from her. “Seola, I don’t think there’s anything left to say. We’re done.”
Her lips quivered, and for a moment, she looked like she might cry. But then, her expression hardened, and she took a step closer. “You think it’s that easy? You think you can just walk away from me and start over like nothing happened?”
“I didn’t walk away, Seola. You did. Every single time you chose someone else over me, you pushed me further away. And now... I’m done.”
She let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. “You really believe that? That it was all my fault? Maybe if you had cared enough, if you had fought for me, things would’ve been different. But you didn’t. You just gave up.”
Y/n stared at her, incredulous. “Fought for you? Seola, you were sleeping with half the campus. What was I supposed to do? Beg you to stop?”
Her eyes burned with intensity, and she closed the distance between them in two quick strides. “You were supposed to fight for me!” she yelled, her voice cracking. “Because I needed you! I needed you to show me that I was worth something!”
The raw pain in her voice stopped him cold. For the first time, he saw past the bravado, the cruelty, the arrogance. All he saw was a girl who was broken, who had been hurting long before their relationship fell apart.
“Seola...” he started, his voice softening despite himself.
But she cut him off, placing a hand on his chest. “Don’t,” she whispered, her nails digging into his shirt. “Don’t pretend to care now. Not when you’ve already moved on. Not when you’re with her.”
He frowned, stepping back. “Eunji has nothing to do with this.”
“Doesn’t she?” Seola’s voice was low, dangerous. “You think I don’t know about her? How perfect she is? How kind and caring and loving? Tell me, Y/n, does she make you feel like I did? Does she make your heart race? Does she make you want her so badly it hurts?”
“Seola, stop—”
“No,” she hissed, grabbing the front of his jacket and pulling him close. “You don’t get to tell me what to do anymore. But you do owe me this. One last chance. One night. That’s all I’m asking.”
Her breath was hot against his skin, and despite everything, he felt his body respond. She was so close, too close, and the scent of her perfume—something sweet and floral—filled his senses. Memories flooded his mind: late nights tangled together, whispered promises, stolen kisses. But then, the darker memories followed: her cruel words, her betrayal, the way she always made him feel so small.
“I can’t,” he said firmly, trying to push her away. But she held on tighter, her fingers digging into his skin.
“Yes, you can,” she murmured, her lips brushing against his ear. “You miss me. I know you do. You miss the way I touched you, the way I made you feel. And deep down, you want me just as much as I want you.”
Her words sent a shiver down his spine, and he hated how right she was. Even now, after everything, a part of him still longed for her. But he couldn’t. He wouldn’t. Not after everything she’d put him through.
“Seola, this isn’t going to work,” he said, his voice strained. “I’m with Eunji now. I’m happy. Please, just let me go.”
For a moment, she was silent, her grip loosening slightly. Then, without warning, she pressed her lips to his. The kiss was desperate, hungry, full of years of pent-up longing and regret. Y/n froze, torn between pushing her away and giving in. Her tongue slid against his, coaxing his mouth open, and he felt himself responding despite his better judgment.
When she finally pulled away, she looked up at him with pleading eyes. “One night,” she whispered again. “That’s all I need. Let me remind you why we belonged together. And then... if you still want to leave, I’ll let you go. I promise.”
His chest heaved as he struggled to think clearly. This was wrong. So wrong. But the ache in his body told him otherwise. The way her hands roamed over his chest, the way her hips pressed against his... it was too much. And yet, not enough.
“Seola...” he breathed, barely able to form the words.
Her lips curved into a sly smile, and she leaned in close again. “Shh,” she whispered, tracing a finger along his jaw. “Just let me take care of you. Like I used to.”
Before he could protest, she dropped to her knees in front of him, her hands already working to unbuckle his belt. His mind screamed at him to stop her, to pull away, but his body betrayed him. He was hard, achingly so, and the sight of her looking up at him with those dark, possessive eyes only made it worse.
“Wait—” he started, but she silenced him with a sharp tug on his pants. They pooled around his ankles, leaving him exposed to the cool night air—and to her.
Seola didn’t waste any time. She wrapped her lips around him, taking him deep into her mouth with a practiced ease that made his knees buckle. Her tongue swirled around the tip, sending jolts of pleasure coursing through him. He gripped her shoulders, unsure whether to push her away or pull her closer.
“God, Seola...” he groaned, his voice thick with desire.
She pulled back slightly, looking up at him with a wicked grin. “Missed this, didn’t you?” she purred, before sinking down again, deeper this time. Her hands gripped his thighs, holding him in place as she worked him with relentless precision.
He was losing control, fast. The rational part of his brain screamed at him to stop, to end this before it went too far. But the rest of him was drowning in sensation, in the heat of her mouth and the way she moaned around him, as if she couldn’t get enough.
“Stop,” he managed to choke out, though his body betrayed him by thrusting forward. “Seola, we can’t...”
She pulled away again, panting slightly. “We can,” she insisted, standing up and pressing her body against his. “And we will. Because you’re mine, Y/n. You always have been.”
Her lips crashed against his again, silencing any protests. She guided his hands to her waist, encouraging him to touch her, to feel her. And despite everything, he couldn’t resist. His fingers found the hem of her skirt, sliding underneath to cup her ass. She moaned into his mouth, grinding against him.
“Take me upstairs,” she whispered, biting his lower lip. “Let me remind you what you’ve been missing.”
He hesitated, torn between the guilt of betraying Eunji and the undeniable pull of Seola’s body against his. But in the end, it wasn’t a choice. Not really. With a groan, he grabbed her hand and led her toward the building, his mind racing with what was about to happen.
As they stumbled into his apartment, Seola pushed him against the door, kissing him furiously. Her hands pulled at his shirt, while his fumbled with the zipper of her dress. Clothes fell to the floor in a haphazard pile, and soon they were both naked, pressed together in a tangle of limbs and desperate need.
She broke the kiss, stepping back slightly to admire him. “You’re still so beautiful,” she murmured, running a hand down his chest. “And you’re all mine.”
Then she turned around, bending over the couch and looking back at him over her shoulder. “Come on, Y/n,” she said, her voice dripping with temptation. “What are you waiting for?”
He hesitated for only a moment before stepping forward, his hands gripping her hips. She gasped as he entered her, her nails digging into the cushions beneath her.
“That’s it,” she moaned, arching her back to meet his thrusts. “Just like that. Fuck me, Y/n. Make me yours again.”
The sound of her voice, the feel of her tight around him... it was too much. He lost himself in the rhythm, in the way she whimpered and begged for more. But even as he moved inside her, a nagging thought crept into his mind. This is wrong. This is...
“Harder,” she demanded, cutting off his thoughts. “Don’t hold back. I can take it.”
And so, he gave in, letting the heat of the moment consume him. But as he glanced down at her, at the way her body writhed beneath his, he couldn’t shake the feeling that this was a mistake. A delicious, intoxicating, irresistible mistake.
“Seola...” he murmured, his voice rough.
She looked back at him, her eyes glazed with lust. “What is it? Don’t stop. Don’t you dare stop.”
And he didn’t. He couldn’t. Not until...
The morning light filtered through the blinds, casting streaks of gold across the rumpled sheets. Y/n stirred, his body heavy with exhaustion, his mind foggy from the night before. He blinked slowly, trying to piece together what had happened. Seola. Her name echoed in his head like a warning bell. He turned his head, expecting to see her gone, as she often was after their reckless encounters back in university. But this time, she was still there, curled up beside him, her hair splayed across the pillow like ink spilled on paper.
She looked so peaceful—soft, even. It made his chest ache. He shouldn’t have let this happen. He had Eunji now. Sweet, kind Eunji, who deserved better than this. He sat up, running a hand through his disheveled hair, trying to steady his breathing. His heart pounded, not from desire but from guilt. The weight of it pressed down on him, suffocating.
“Morning,” Seola’s voice broke the silence, smooth and melodic, yet laced with something he couldn’t quite place. She stretched languidly, her bare skin catching the sunlight, and propped herself up on one elbow to look at him. Her lips curved into a sly smile. “You look awful. Rough night?”
Y/n didn’t respond. He couldn’t. Words felt trapped in his throat, tangled with regret and confusion. He wanted to get up, to leave, to pretend this never happened. But his body refused to move.
Seola sighed dramatically, sitting up fully, letting the sheet pool around her waist. She leaned closer, her fingers tracing idle patterns on his arm. “You know,” she began, her tone casual, almost too casual, “there’s something I need to tell you.”
He tensed immediately, his instincts screaming that whatever she was about to say would only make things worse. “Don’t,” he said quickly, his voice hoarse. “Just… don’t.”
Her smile widened, and there was a glint in her eyes that made his stomach twist. “Oh, come on, Y/n. You’re going to want to hear this.” She paused, letting the tension build, savoring it. Then, softly, almost sweetly, she dropped the bomb. “I’m pregnant.”
The room seemed to tilt. Y/n stared at her, his mind struggling to process the words. Pregnant. The word hung in the air between them, heavy and unrelenting. He shook his head, disbelief coursing through him. “No. No, you’re lying.”
Seola laughed lightly, as if they were discussing the weather. “Why would I lie about something like this? It’s true. I found out last week.” She reached for his hand, placing it gently on her stomach. Her skin was warm beneath his palm, and for a moment, he felt frozen. “There’s a little piece of us growing right here. Isn’t that amazing?”
He jerked his hand away as if burned, scrambling to his feet. His chest heaved as he backed away from the bed, his mind racing. This couldn’t be happening. Not now. Not after everything. “You… you can’t be serious.”
Her expression shifted, her playful smirk fading into something sharper, more intense. “Dead serious,” she said, her voice low and steady. “And it’s yours. I haven’t been with anyone else since we…” She trailed off, letting the implication sink in. “You’re the father, Y/n.”
His knees threatened to buckle. He sank into a chair, his hands gripping the edge of the seat so tightly his knuckles turned white. Father. The word reverberated in his skull, each repetition louder than the last. He felt sick. This wasn’t supposed to happen. He had finally moved on, found someone who truly cared about him. And now… now this.
Seola watched him closely, her gaze calculating. She slid out of bed, standing naked before him without an ounce of shame. She knelt in front of him, her hands resting on his thighs, her touch both grounding and suffocating. “Isn’t this what you wanted?” she asked softly, her voice dripping with false innocence. “A family? A future together?”
He shook his head, his breath coming in shallow gasps. “No. Seola, no. That’s not… we’re not…”
She tilted her head, her lips curling into a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “But we could be,” she whispered, leaning in closer, her breath hot against his ear. “Think about it, Y/n. You could have me all to yourself. No more fighting. No more games. Just… us.”
Her words were like a poison, seeping into his veins, clouding his thoughts. He wanted to push her away, to scream that this wasn’t what he wanted. But the way she looked at him—like he was the center of her world—made something inside him waver. For years, he had loved her. Or at least, he thought he had. And despite everything she had done, some small, stupid part of him still craved the warmth she once offered.
As if sensing his hesitation, Seola pressed further. She kissed him, soft and slow, her lips moving against his with practiced ease. He tried to resist, but his body betrayed him, responding instinctively. When she pulled back, her eyes were dark with satisfaction. “See?” she murmured, trailing her fingers along his jaw. “You still want me. You always have.”
He opened his mouth to argue, but no words came out. How could he deny it when his body screamed otherwise? When every fiber of his being seemed drawn to her, despite the chaos she brought?
Seola stood then, pulling him to his feet. Her hands slid up his chest, her touch deliberate, possessive. “Let me remind you,” she whispered, her voice a dangerous purr. “Let me show you why you belong to me.”
Before he could protest, she kissed him again, harder this time, her teeth grazing his bottom lip. His hands hesitated at his sides before giving in, gripping her hips as if clinging to life itself. She smiled against his mouth, triumphant. “That’s it,” she coaxed, guiding him back toward the bed. “Let go, Y/n. Just let go.”
He was falling, spiraling deeper into her web. And as she lowered him onto the mattress, her hands roaming greedily over his body, he knew he was lost. The guilt, the doubt, the fear—it all melted away under her touch.
For now, at least, she had won.
125 notes · View notes
taylawillson23 · 1 day ago
Text
That's My Man
Tumblr media
landonorris here’s my wife telling you I can’t be dating Magui because we’ve been together since we were 14 and we have a son (and a daughter)
user001 okay. Hear me out. @yourusername
↪user200 LET THEM COOK ↪user001 I remember she released her album and then waited a year and a half before going on tour. There’s a baby in that photo…
↪user200 and she's got a daughter…..
maxverstappen1 Lando, you have a wife?
↪danielriccardo IMAGINE NOT KNOWING
↪maxverstappen1 Who does?
↪alex_albon ✋
↪carlossainz55 ✋
↪oscarpiastri ✋
↪georgerussell63 ✋
Tumblr media
yourusername yes I have a bbg, and what of it 🤨
user200 @user001 MISS GIRL YOU COOKED
You smiled at the interviewer, Amelia Dimoldenberg, who stared back. You took a bite of the fried chicken, “Can you sing?”
Your eyebrows furrow, “I believe I can, yes.”
“I meant well.”
You smile, “My fans seem to think so.”
“Do you have a lot of them?”
“I have a fair few monthly listeners.”
Amelia sighed and leaned back, “Are you always in the media with dating rumours?”
“Why, you worried you’ll end up in the rumours with me?”
She scoffed, “No, but your most recent one is with Lando Norris, an old date of mine.”
“Oh, I’ll back off. Girl code and all,” you raise your hands in mock surrender.
“Good.”
Two weeks later, at the Singapore GP, you walk into the paddock, a young blonde girl holding your hand. Her name was Jamie, you had legally adopted her in 2021, but had been her motherly figure since she was born 10 years prior. Your status as a teen mum was part of your brand, and as much as you hated it, people tended to pay more attention to you when Jamie was with you. She looked like the woman who gave birth to her, blonde hair that reached her mid back, and wide brown eyes. She had a McLaren shirt on, looking rather proud of the number on her back. On your right hip sat a small boy, two years of age, with brown hair and blue eyes that matched his fathers. His name was Toby. His head was buried in your shoulder, your hair offering a curtain so the camera’s wouldn’t see your child as easily. Jamie tugged on your hand, then ten-year-old bouncing in excitement. “What?”
Jamie looks up as you ask your question, and points in the direction she was looking, “Daddy!”
“You can run to him, but be careful, okay?”
“Okay, mumma,” her legs took off, screaming down the paddock for everyone to hear. Camera’s trained on her as she ran at the group of driver’s congregating in the paddock, “Daddy!”
George noticed her first, ruffling her hair as she pushed through the group. Finally, her dad turned around, bending down to scoop her up, “Jamie!”
George smiles at you and beckons you towards the group as Jamie hugs her dad. “Mornin’ Y/N”
You smile, “Morning, George.”
Jamie smiles, “I found him, mum.”
“Hey, love,” Lando leans down to kiss your cheek, and puts Jamie on the ground, “Little man, you behavin’?”
Toby claps his hands, reaching for Lando. Lando takes him, pressing a kiss to his chubby cheek. “You ready for the race?”
Lando scrunches his nose up slightly, “Ready to lose pole on the first corner, you mean.”
You narrow your eyes, “You need to stop talking yourself down all the time. You’ve gotta keep pole around turn one at some point, and it could just be this weekend,” you run a hand through his curly hair, “Keep saying things like that, and you’re just gonna keep doin’ it, Lan.”
Lando stared, “Do you always have to believe in me?”
You glare, “Do you always have to be an idiot?”
Lando rolled his eyes, letting you ruffle his hair. 
Jamie screamed as Lando crossed the line, P1. A grand sl-. The ten-year-old glowered, “Stupid Daniel.”
You turn to her, headphones around your neck, “Jamie. Be nice.”
She huffed, pouting and crossing her arms, “But a grand slam!”
You narrowed your eyes, “Jamie, dad’s gonna have way more opportunities for a grand slam. Just be happy Danny got a point.”
Jamie nodded, remembering the rumours floating around the media. Your little family stepped outside the garage, waiting with William for Lando to get out the car. Toby was fast asleep, but Jamie’s scream interrupted him when Lando left the car and rushed over towards you three. She wrapped her arms around his waist, while Lando leaned his head down towards yours. Toby’s little hand hit against his helmet, while you held onto the side of it and pressed a kiss to the place you assumed his mouth would be. William clapped Lando on the back, before guiding him towards the stand where he’d take his helmet off and get water. 
A month later Lando and yourself were sitting in McLaren hospitality. It was the Texas Grand Prix, and some of the McLaren media team had the idea to get you two to do a video together. Lando’s arm rested over the back of your chair, while you rested your hand on his knee. The media team nodded as the camera went on. You smiled, glancing at Lando who looked awkward, “Hi, everyone, I’m Y/N Norris, and this is my husband, Lando. He races here at McLaren, and has won three races this year.”
You nudge him, looking at him, Lando clears his throat, “Y/N already did the introductions, but McLaren’s admin wanted us to tell you about our relationship.”
You nod, fiddling with the ring on your finger, “We met in Manchester back in 2013. I was visiting a family friend, and Lando was on a family trip if I remember correctly. We kept in contact for a while, and then he asked me out in the summer of 2014.”
“By October we were actually together,” Lando confirms, “And we’ve been together ever since.”
“So, Lando met Jamie in 2018, and they clicked. He’s been her dad since. We moved in together in 2019, when Lando got his seat.”
Lando nods, “We both legally adopted Jamie in 2021, and found out Y/N was pregnant later that year. She had our son in July of 2022,” his hand drops onto your shoulder, “We’ve both agreed not to share any information about him, so that’s all you need to know.”
“Lan proposed when I was about two months pregnant, and we started planning after I had him. We got married on the first day of summer break last year, 31st of July.”
“And that’s pretty much it.”
“He’s not dating Magui, if that’s not clear.”
“We’re acquaintances,” Lando agrees, leaning over to press a kiss to your cheek, “And Y/N and Dylan O’Brein were never a thing.”
You shake your head, “No, we weren’t. I always have and always will be, an F1 WAG. Hate to break your hearts.”
“If you were anything else, you’d break mine,” you glance at Lando from the corner of your eye, raising an eyebrow.
“Maybe that was my ulterior motive.”
“Ouch, love, ouch.”
Tumblr media
⚫⚪⚪
Tumblr media
⚪⚫⚪
Tumblr media
⚪⚪⚫
yourusername can confirm six things.
I, too, became a feral animal when I saw that first picture. I am no better than a man and fighting the same battles as you LN4 girlies 😢✊
YES THEY WERE PLAYING STRIP POKER. THE CHILDREN WERE NAPPING AND IT WAS HILARIOUS BCS LAN KEPT LOOSING
I had added bonuses to him losing, so i intentionally gave him bad advice🤗
I taught him how to take fit checks. Was not expecting to see him look so girly pop
I am no better than a man. Those ridiculously long all day, all night, kitchen floor, etc, etc, etc, paragraphs. Felt. deep in my soul. 
F1 calendar fuckin sucks bro bcs tf you mean i had my man home with me for almost a MONTH and then i dont see him for another MONTH bcs our children are diseased and we cant go. (Jamies got the flu and a lung infection??? Shes better than be bcs i would simply die. And the toddlers got strep). TF YOU MEAN HES LIVING HIS BEST ZOOM CAR LIFE WHILE IVE GOT A DYING TEN YEAR OLD AND WHINING TODDLER??????? Fia. square tf up. Its been a long time coming
user001 1. A real one tbh. 3. Thankyou for your service to us LN4 girlies. 5. Real. 6. Thoughts and prayers
user200 Dawg, aint no way my favorutie singer is boutta square up with the FIA ove4r the calendar 😭
georgerussell63 violence isnt the answer
↪yourusername AS IVE BEEN TELLING YOU AND MAX? HELLO? HYPOCRITE
lando mean and unnecessary. 
↪yourusername stfu im mad at you for leaving me with disease riddled humans
↪lando IM WORKING??
↪yourusername and? 
↪lando ill be home monday afternoon
↪yourusername bring food or your homeless
user050 I watched the mclarenn video and the way they looked at each other. WHEN IS IT MY TURN
79 notes · View notes