#hes been told one specific thing over and over but then finds out his lifes been a lie?
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woozisguitar · 1 day ago
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happy 200 followers : )
I have a prompt for reader and seokmin, so the reader has parents in almost their late seventies and she is 25, they hope to see her get married but they never pressure her to do that because they like whatever she does.
so, she one day overhears them talking how they like her and are content with whatever they get, she bursts into tears. next thing YK, she tells her best friend seokmin about that and he decides to help her out.
so, yeah, seokmin decides they both can get marry because they both are best friends and he also likes her but never told her and type.
I'm sorry it was so longgg.
jayyyyyy :(((( thank you so so much im so sorry this took far too long but I hope you enjoy!!!
requests for 200 celebration post: open (but closing soon!)
ps: shoutout to @sherlyscatcafe for proof reading this lysm pookie <33
warning: fluff, hints of angst, mentions of weddings
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one of the biggest perks in your life was growing up with siblings older than you because not once did you ever have to worry about taking over the family business or continuing a legacy. while they had everything already decided for them, your parents were a lot more lenient when it came to you. they were supportive when you told them that you wanted to take a gap year and go backpacking across europe to find some inspiration. they were also supportive when you got back and announced your interest in theatre, especially playwriting, and that this was your preferred major of choice for college. that's where you first met seokmin.  
it was the first day of freshman year, and it had been a while since you were last in a classroom setting. your parents dropped you off at your dorm, wishing you the best for class and leaving you alone to set up. your parents gave you a fair allowance which, when added to the little money you saved up working jobs, allowed you to opt in for a solo dorm. for the past year or so, you had little to no interactions with strangers who you'd see for a long time, and this made you worry that your social skills were perhaps rusty.  
you saw seokmin near the back of class. the seat next to him was empty, and he was reading a copy of hamlet. you made your way over to him and cleared your throat, announcing your presence. he looked up, pushing his glasses over the bridge of his nose, a glimmer of curiosity in his eyes. you smiled and pointed at the seat next to him. 
“is this taken?"
he shook his head no and smiled, moving his bag to let you take a seat. he went back to reading his book in silence, and you took this as a cue to pull out your own copy of comedy of errors.  
“what's your favorite work of shakespeare?” he asked, after a moment of quiet.  
“oh, me?” he nodded. “it's either hamlet or this,” you said, nodding at the book in your hand.  
“what about you?”  
“either romeo and juliet or a midsummer night’s dream,” he answered instantly.  
“a big romance guy, i see,” you teased him, to which he giggled shyly. “what other books do you like?”  
“not a lot by shakespeare, but i do enjoy other classics like pride and prejudice, persuasion, sense and sensibility, and you get the idea. what about you? big on romances?”  
“hmm, i don’t know. i don’t have a specific genre i enjoy; i’m more interested in the setting of the book and the background highlights of it, you know?”  
seokmin nodded in agreement, and you felt a soft glow in your chest. you barely knew this guy, let alone his name, but already liked being around him.  
“i’m y/n, nice to meet you,” you said, holding your hand out for him to shake.  
“seokmin, and likewise,” he said with a charming smile, shaking your hand. “so, what made you join intro to theatre, y/n?”  
you hesitated to tell him about your gap year. you weren’t particularly ashamed of it, but you noticed that people didn’t react well to it, often resorting to comparing you to your siblings’ success. but your subconscious argued that this guy knew nothing about your siblings and family, so you decided to tell him the truth. to your surprise, seokmin had also taken a gap year to work as an actor in a local play and decided to go to college after wrapping up to polish his skills further.  
your similar past and even more similar taste in hobbies instantly made you take a liking to him. from asking each other to be partners, taking up almost all the same classes, matching schedules, late-night binge-watching tv, attending (and performing) plays in theaters big and small, you had seokmin by your side. you had seen every possible side of each other: sad, heartbroken, vulnerable, raw—you name it. he had seen it all and still decided to stick by your side. when you told him about your plans to do an mfa in playwriting and direction rather than performing on stage, he had given you utmost support and joked that you should cast him and give him his big break.  
and much less to your surprise, you found seokmin sitting there in your postgraduate class for creative writing. when questioned about his sudden plan to pursue the degree, 'i’m just following where my heart takes me,' was all he said.  
years passed, but your friendship with seokmin only grew. he was one of the closest people in your life, your best friend, and you knew you were his too. he met your family, who accepted him as one of their own and often teased the two of you about romantic ties. he had been your date to all your siblings’ weddings, saving you from sticky situations with pesky relatives, and at this point, everyone was convinced the two of you were endgame. however, whenever someone asked, you’d just politely smile and decline, saying you’re just friends.  
but now that you were twenty-five, and your parents were well in their seventies, they started to bring up the topic of you hopefully getting married. they never pressured you into going on dates or meeting their friends’ sons, not even once, but they did express how much they’d love to see their youngest daughter get married. that was until one night, when you were staying over at your parents’ house, you overheard a conversation.  
“i’m worried, you know,” your dad said. “i’m scared one day we won’t be around, and she’ll be all lonely.” 
your mum made her way from the vinyl shelf to her husband, taking a seat next to him. “she’s capable of taking care of herself, you know.” 
“i know she is, but still, as her father, i worry. i just really hoped to walk her down the aisle to a man i know will always keep my daughter happy. i would die a happy man.”
“yes, but she’s happy now. let her be. her happiness is all that matters, after all,” your mum patted your dad’s hand and squeezed it, giving him a small smile.   your dad nodded, accepting your mother’s words.  your heart absolutely burst into parts. with tears streaming down your face, you decided that you would fulfill their one wish in return for all the love they gave you.  
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“i want to get married.”  
seokmin spit out the drink he was nursing at your sudden confession. after leaving your parents’ home, you called seokmin and asked him to meet you at your regular coffee shop.  
“so... so suddenly?” seokmin asked after wiping the corner of his mouth, his drink now forgotten.  
“yeah, it’s just—” you stopped. you knew he wouldn’t judge you, but you weren’t sure yourself. part of you wanted to wait for love like everyone else, but the other, much stronger part of you wanted to fulfill your parents’ wish. you told him about the conversation you overheard and looked back at seokmin to say, “it’s just that i want them to be happy, you know? they’ve done so much for me and let me explore myself into being this person with no pressures. i just want to give back to them.”  
seokmin nodded solemnly, and you could almost hear the gears in his head turning. after a moment of silence, he quipped, “we... could get married.”  
now it was your turn to stay quiet. marriage? with seokmin?  
in hindsight, it wasn’t a bad thought. you trusted seokmin with your life and knew he would never do anything to hurt you. your careers aligned, so you wouldn’t have to worry about what the other does or how it will affect them, and he had spent over enough nights to know the two of you could coexist very peacefully in the same space.  you slowly looked at seokmin and nodded. “are you sure, though?”  
in return, he just gave you his trademark smile and said, “yeah, i’m just following where my heart takes me.”  
the two of you decided to announce your ‘engagement’ to both your families by the end of the month. you tried to be more affectionate in public, in front of your friends especially, so the sudden marriage announcement wouldn’t come as a shock. you even started to show a more romantic side of each other on your social media. seokmin took you to decide on a ring, one that he had saved for, and booked the two of you a dinner cruise with his planned proposal. all he said was, “can’t let the romantic in me die now, can i?”  
now, in the car seat outside your parents’ house, with a ring on your finger, you were worried about how they would take the news. your entire family, siblings and their spouses too, were present for this dinner, and you couldn’t think of a better place to announce it.  seokmin opened the door for you and held your hand throughout. his presence felt like the comfort you desperately needed. your family welcomed the two of you with warm hugs and kisses, no one noticing the ring. when dinner rolled around, you and seokmin shared a look, deciding this was the right time to announce it. you clinked your glass with a fork, standing up and waiting for the room to quieten.
 “we... have an announcement,” you looked over at seokmin, who gave you an encouraging smile. “seokmin and i are getting married,” you smiled in your parents’ direction.  
the whole room erupted into cheers, your sisters fighting over to see your ring while the men patted seokmin on the back. your mom hugged you tight, a small tear sliding down her cheek, and you saw your dad discreetly wipe his own. in that moment, you saw seokmin and realized maybe he was meant to be yours all along.  
the next few months passed in a blur of wedding preparations. both your and seokmin’s families were excited at the news of their youngest getting married and pressed the two of you to plan the wedding of the decade. getting over your initial hesitance, you decided to fully enjoy the planning, and seokmin’s forever-positive outlook made even the tedious tasks seem enjoyable. one night, when you finally had some alone time with no deadlines to finish and no wedding meetings scheduled, you decided to look through your old photos and videos, backing them up and sorting them. you were honestly surprised at the amount of photos and memories you had with seokmin, some of which you didn’t even remember, and you were glad to have them saved digitally. looking at the picture of seokmin you took during freshman year, you felt your heart skip a beat and small butterflies erupt in your stomach.  
he looked so much younger than he does now, yet so much the same. he gave this signature toothy grin, posing with a bagel. you giggled to yourself as you saw more silly pictures of him, and you thought to yourself, ‘what if i like him more than a friend?’ you quickly shook it off because this was seokmin for god’s sake! he had seen you get drunk and throw up in front of your long-time crush, all while trying not to get sick himself. he was your closest confidant, but now that the thought entered your mind, you couldn’t help but wonder if it’s really such a bad idea to love seokmin more than a friend.  
the wedding planning was of no help to your already tumultuous thoughts and feelings that were growing for seokmin, and spending all your time with him, along with the romantic acts he did to come off as the perfect fiancé, took a toll on your poor heart. one week after you first had the thought, you had now realized that you may have been in love with seokmin all this time.  
you remembered precisely when it started: during your second year of undergrad, when your boyfriend broke up with you, and only seokmin was able to comfort you. he held you as you cried, got you ice cream, and binged cheesy sad romance movies with you. he was always there, just a call away, and you now realized that the adoration you held so dearly for him was actually love. no wonder you barely had any successful relationships after that, because all you searched for in them was seokmin, subconsciously comparing them all to your best friend. hell, when the two of you announced your engagement on your socials, everyone from your old university, including your exes, joked that they always knew you’d end up with seokmin. it has truly always been him.
seokmin wasn’t doing so great either. when he first proposed the idea of marriage, he thought he could keep his romantic thoughts to himself. but soon, seeing you in such a romantic and domestic light, all the feelings he had spent years suppressing started to bubble over the surface. he’d catch himself staring longer than a friend should and mentally reprimand himself for slipping. thank god you were always distracted by something to notice. sometimes he felt like he was betraying you by not telling you the truth, and these conflicting emotions led to him making a very stupid decision. or perhaps a great one, his subconscious argued.  
seokmin decided to confess everything during your rehearsal dinner party, finding it harder and harder to keep his feelings under wraps. he arrived at the venue beforehand to decide on the spot where he would confess. he figured if you accepted his feelings, it should be a moment that lived fresh in his mind for all his days, and if you were to reject him, he would at least like to be rejected in front of a pretty view. always such a romantic, your voice rang in his head, and a smile formed on his face. seokmin gave himself a small pep talk, texting you to meet him by the bench around the back of your venue.  
he saw you walk out, looking around in awe at the empty courtyard, with fallen cherry blossoms from the trees scattered around. your eyes met his, and you gave him a shy smile, making his heart skip a beat. you made your way over to him, and his heart started to beat faster.  “what's up?” you said, giving him a questioning smile.  “i—” seokmin’s words were stuck in his throat. for a second, he was so mesmerized by you, just you, that he forgot what he had prepared and just said, “i love you.”  
now it was your turn to be at a loss for words. seokmin took your silence as a cue to continue.  “i... i love you. and i’m not saying this now, just two days before our wedding, for the sake of it. i have been in love with you for so long. years, if i’m being honest. you own every corner of my heart. hell, you are my heart. my everything. that's why i felt compelled to be closer to you, to have you near me. you were the one my heart made me follow, y/n. i just don’t want to marry you, if you still want to marry me, under a fake guise that i am doing this to help you, and i couldn’t help but feel like i was betray—”  seokmin’s spiraling rambling was cut off by you softly pressing your lips against his.  
seokmin’s eyes grew wide, and he froze. when you felt him try to pull back, he grabbed the back of your head and kissed you back. his lips moved slowly against yours before you pulled back to take a deep breath, a smile gracing your face.  seokmin mirrored your smile and dived back in to kiss you again. this time, the kiss was filled with his desperation and longing for you.  “god, i fucking love you, you cheesy-ass romantic,” you whispered breathlessly when the two of you separated.  seokmin giggled and kissed your nose. “not as much as i love you, pretty girl.”  
when you stood at the altar with him by your side saying, “i do,” you realized that this was your destiny all along. like a theater play, the two of your lives were written to play out this way. and while everyone wants to have the romantic interest who follows his heart all for themselves, this one will belong to you, forever and always. 
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lavenderprose · 2 hours ago
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Also, on a hornier note, please tell me more about the Mary Shelly thing? 😉
Assuming you're asking about the Emmrook version of events floating around my head and not the actual story about Mary Shelley losing her virginity on her mother's grave (This is a story I heard a long time ago and might be an urban legend/exaggeration of history. God I hope it's not it's the gothest thing I've ever heard. Either way, cannot be assed to check) Here's how it goes:
After a few nice garden picnics with Emmrich, during which Rook always takes a moment to pay her respects to Emmrich's parents--because she's a Mourn Watcher through and through, and when your in-laws aren't alive to have Family Sundays with, you make due by putting flowers on their grave and politely NOT bonking their son within eyesight of their headstones--the subject of Rook's origin story comes up. Maybe organically, maybe Emmrich's curious about her last name but he's been too polite up til now. Maybe the curiosity has been burning a visible fucking hole in his chest and Rook finally sighs and braces herself and says, "Go ahead and ask," and Emmrich, despite himself, launches into Twenty Questions Mode.
Either way.
"I know almost nothing about myself," is what Rook tells him, and she's made her peace with it long ago, but the sight of his sad eyes makes the old, stale heartache attempt to rise in her again. "No, don't do that. Don't pity me. I don't really care who I started life out as. What matters is who I am now."
"Rook," he says, and it's a statement. He's so intuitive that way. Yes, she's Rook, and that's who she chooses to be every day when she wakes up in the morning. If she tires of it, she'll tell him and they'll go from there. They've probably had this conversation before. Then he says, "I'm curious, dearest--"
"I'm shocked," she teases, and he tuts.
"Curious about the name," Emmrich sighs, and shifts into something she likes to call lecture mode, though it looks a bit ridiculous when he's sitting there on his own boot heels, hands folded in his lap like an eager and precocious boy. "The name Ingellvar is classic Navarran, of noble origin, though the family line has been extinct for over a century. Foundlings aren't uncommon in the Necropolis, and the naming conventions are rather specific. I was wondering--"
"Do you want to see it?" she asks, and leans herself onto his lap. He, as always, simpers to find himself full of her. "I know where it is. Been there a few times over the years. I'll show you the grave where they found me."
"I would quite like that," says Emmrich, so she takes him there.
The upper levels of the Necropolis are sometimes oppulent and sometimes just as dusty and ominous as their lower counterparts. They tend not to shift around as much, but there's no guarantee that anything in the Necropolis will stay in one place forever. Rook keeps track of this particular row of Sarcophagi, for obvious reasons. Several of the most important Nevarrans of the Blessed Age are interred here. Accordingly, it is beautiful and well-lit. The stones under their feet are neatly cobbled and the air is floral.
"They found me there," Rook says, pointing to a particular grave. A low, flat sarcophagus. The epitaph, huge and vaguely glowing even all these years after the initial enchantment:
HERE IS LAID TO REST WILHEM INGELLVAR COUNT OF RUNDEL. GREAT-GRANDSON OF KING BERTRAND PENTAGHAST. HUSBAND AND FATHER. HIS BONES WILL SERVE AS HE DID IN LIFE AS HIS SPIRIT WALKS BY THE MAKER'S SIDE.
It continues in that vein all down the sarcophagus, Nevarran patriotism and Andraste. Rook could recite it all from memory.
"Why this grave, I wonder," Emmrich mumbles.
"No idea," Rook says, which is true, and then, "Haven't really thought about it," which is the biggest, fattest lie she's ever told him.
Emmrich knows it too, because he looks at her and raises his eyebrow.
"Anyway." She slides herself onto the surface of the sarcophagus, which is polished to an almost reflective sheen. "Here's where they found me. Screaming, crying, wah-wah-feed-me." She falls onto her back, legs curled up towards her chest in a mockery of an infant. She wiggles her feet and her eyebrows in his direction. "I was smaller then."
"Evidently," Emmrich says, dryly, and sits down on the end of the sarcophagus. He glances around and, almost to himself, muses, "This chamber is quite busy, comparatively. It's popular for tourists, and close enough to the surface to be part of the Mortalitasi's regular rounds. Whomever put you here must have intended for you to be found."
"Whatever," Rook sighs, and drapes her legs over his lap. "I screamed and screamed until they found me. And the rest is history." She toes off one of her boots. "I have a fun story to tell you."
Emmrich visibly chooses not to address the flippancy with which she thinks of her own origin. Someday, maybe in a few years, she'll wake up in the middle of the night. She'll stumble like one of the dead into another bedroom in their top-level Necropolis townhouse and cling their newborn son to her body. When Emmrich finds her after waking to a cold bed, she'll look at him and with a voice like her own throat is haunted say, "Did she hate me enough to get rid of me? Or love me enough to let me go?" And he'll know she's talking about her own mother. And they'll start looking.
Here, on this day, she isn't yet a mother unless you count fire-slinging skeleton sons. Here, on this day, she plants her socked heel against Emmrich's crotch and curls her toes and says, "Once upon a time, there was a woman, and she was in love with a very beautiful and spooky man, and one time that very beautiful and spooky man fucked her in a sarcophagus and now she can't look at one without--"
"Darling," Emmrich gasps, and wraps his hand around her ankle and very decidedly does not move it. He'd put bangles there, and a chain that disappears into her sock and connects one of the bangles to a thin band that lives underneath the knuckle of her largest toe, and when he did so he looked at her with dark eyes and then did something with his mouth that she still thinks about at least once a day. "This isn't...very respectful of the noble dead."
God, she loves him.
"You've fucked me worse places. Besides, this guy," Rook slaps the surface of the sarcophagus, "was a huge monarchist asshole who's probably been spinning in his grave for the past thirty years because of the little elf girl running around with his last name tacked onto her. Maybe one of these days he'll stop spinning because I'll have a different last name." She's only a little amused that that's what makes Emmrich's cock jump against the sole of her foot.
"Dearest," he says, still consciously sitting still for what her foot is doing, "This really is a very highly trafficked area."
"Good," she says, low and slow.
"Oh," he sighs, and he sounds almost annoyed, like ink has dripped onto his favorite shirt, but he's moving to kneel between her thighs now, pressing her back into the relative concealment of the large flower bushes flanking the sarcophagus. A bit of privacy, such as it is.
"Whatever shall I do with you?" Emmrich asks, even as he shoves clothing aside. He takes off his coat and pillows her head with it, then pulls his shirttails out as some weird attempt at modesty, and she laughs until she feels him inside her.
"You'll figure something out," she tells him.
Emmrich Volkarin, the latest in a long line of esteemed Mortalitasi to be presented with a strange foundling discovered on a long-deceased noble's grave, smiles and makes love to her.
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the-sill-of-all-sills · 1 year ago
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JJK Chapter 65. The backstory is starting it seems. Only a few pages in so let's do some more predictions.
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rqnarok · 3 months ago
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MOTIVE | dark!old man!logan x fem!reader
summary: strangers-with-benefits!old man!logan punishes you out of his jealousy.
— sequel to bed chem but could be read as a standalone!
content warnings/tags: smut! mdni. porn with little plot. old man!logan. unspecified age gap. dom!logan. sub!reader. possessive & jealous logan. pet names (kid, kiddo, little girl, etc). unprotected p in v. power dynamics. cnc. heavy breeding kink. barely proofread. wc: 2,6k 
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You didn’t think Logan would care—or notice, even. 
This thing between you and him has been going on for months now. He picks you up from the diner you’re working at, drives you home (his house), then fucks you stupid throughout the after-hours. 
The sex is everything you have craved for, really, “Ya’ need a real man to do this shit, huh?” A real man who does all the work and stuffs you up with his cock until you’re only speaking in high-pitched whines.
But aside from that fact, something is missing. Something your big heart always had craved, something he failed to fill.
The lack of attention and affection.
Outside intercourses, he barely talks to you. He departs from the bed after every time you fall asleep—or when he thinks that you’re already asleep. Sometimes, he takes you back to your house in the morning, sometimes he just leaves you in his vacant residence. 
All bare and worn out.
You’d rest your head on his chest in the dim room, drawing shapes on his naked skin, “I wish you’d tell me what’s wrong.” 
The tips of his fingers subtly stroke the crown of your head, a light touch you can barely feel, “Go t’sleep, kid.”  
It’s too unstable and lacks consistency.
That is when you start talking, well specifically, messaging, a friend of a friend, someone around your age. You are not even attracted to him but he’s nice. He gives you attention and affection you hardly even register. But hey, you just want your big heart loaded up. No one can ever blame you.
What you didn’t know is that Logan notices everything. He notices how you start to sleep more later than usual, playing with your phone for a while. How your lips curve upwards at the glowy screen when you thought that he already left the room. Making him utter a question into the cold air, “What’re you lookin’ at?” 
Strangled, your phone falls into the sheets that cover your bare form, “N-nothing, really. Just texting my girlfriends.”
And Logan knows you’re fuckin’ lying right to his face. Because he remembers you told him one time in the beginning: “Sometimes I feel lonely at night. None of my friends are a night owl like me, y’know?” He fuckin’ remembers it all. 
On a random Friday, he decided he had known enough. He drives his way to your diner and there you are. Sitting too close to his liking with some fuckin’ boy; the way those giggles left your lips makes his stomach turn. 
You didn’t know that he was sitting in his car the whole time because he never visited you on a Friday night: “Gotta do somethin’” 
But there he was, gripping the steering wheel too tightly his knuckles turned white. Muttering curse after curse under his heavy breath. Playing over the last few weeks and trying to find what went sideways. But something always went sideways with him. 
He had hoped you would understand that his aloofness was merely a product of his scars and the long life he had lived. But now, seeing you in your apron whilst smiling at another man and pouring Logan's favorite black coffee—he wished he hadn’t been so cold towards you. 
What would he do without you? What would he do if you decided that you didn’t want some old man n’picked that boy? He shakes his head lightly, no, Logan needs you. 
The thought of you leaving him makes him fucking sick and he decided to do something ‘bout it.  
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By something, he means having you on his bed, naked and splayed bare in front of him as he laps up and down your dripping pussy. 
“Pussy loves me so much, huh?” Logan murmurs as he squeezes your thighs that clamped around his neck, making you hum a mhmm to the pillow beside you.
Logan’s thick fingers eagerly stroke your clit while he continues licking your folds, earning soft mewls as your head tilts back in pleasure, “Ah- ‘M so close..!” 
“Doin’ so good for your old man.” You’re moaning and gripping his greying hair while you squirm on the sheets, rolling your hips down on his face.
You were so so so close to getting your orgasm before he abruptly pulled away and stood back up on his feet. Taking you by surprise. Delaying you. 
“W-what?”  Your head is still overflowing with your high when you watch him drape his way into the nearest armchair and put on his glasses as he reaches for today’s newspaper. As if he didn’t just have his tongue deep inside you a minute ago. 
Just as you try to catch your breath, you slowly get up in a sitting position to gape at him with your flushed cheeks and aroused body. You were so close and you need him back now. 
After a minute, you begin to notice how he grips the newsprint too tensely, how his brows furrowed and his nose wrinkled, how he keeps clenching his jaw on repeat, and how he looks furious and grumpy.
Something’s up. 
“L-Logan?” You call out to him. He clenched his jaw one more time until he could not contain his anger anymore. 
He takes off his glasses in a harsh tug and stares directly at you, “Are you fuckin’ him?” 
The way he looks at you sends electricity into your core, you feel like a deer caught in a headlight, “W-wha—who are you talking about?”
When he gets up from his seat, you can see the bulge on his pants, his stare still burning into you as if a predator catching its prey, “Fuck. That fuckin’ boy from the diner. Did ya’ let him touch what’s mine?” 
Oh. 
Oh.
He’s talking about your ‘friend of a friend’. How did he find that out? You began to wonder in silence. 
You gulp as he gets closer and closer into the bed, making you push your back onto the headboard subconsciously, “Oh- no, no, he— he’s just a friend, Logan.”
He isn’t satisfied with that answer, you know this because the bed squeaks out a creaking sound when he gets his whole weight on the bed, latching and trapping you, “Ya’ thought about leaving me, kiddo?” He rumbles as he squishes your face cheeks between his thumb and forefinger, looking at you sternly as if he’s scolding a misbehaved child, “Thought about leavin’ your old man?”
“N-no!  Never!—” You’re being honest! You would never leave him…you just needed a little more. By sensing his rage that radiates the entire room, you try your best to stare back at him with your doe-eyes, a look that never fails to weaken down his knees.
Then, you build up the courage to cradle his face with your soft palms and stroke his beard, focusing on the greying parts. “Just a friend, Logan. ‘Would never leave you.” Your voice comes out as a whisper but it successfully eases him down. You can hear his breath steadying after a while. 
He closes his eyes as he lurks forward towards you, greedily locking his lips onto yours, “Was so fuckin’ mad.” As he pulls away to mumble, you keep pampering kisses on his face—to assure him that you do want him and him only. 
He pulls down his pants and lets his cock spring free to his stomach. A sight of pre-cum on his heavy tip and the grith of his fat cock makes you cry out. 
Logan trails his hands from your face down and down until he reaches your pussy. It’s still as wet as he delayed it a few moments ago. His calloused finger probes at your entrance, making you whimper into his mouth. 
“This is all f’me, little girl?” He keeps teasing your folds in one hand while pinching your peaking nipples with his other hand. All while still looking at you oh, so hungrily. 
“Y-yes! All for you. No one else—” You fail to finish your sentence when he enters one finger into your heat, placing kisses on your collarbones and mumbling mhmm onto your skin.
You can’t hold it anymore since he delayed your orgasm earlier—you’d do anything, “Pleasepleaseplease, need’a cum, please!” 
The squelching sound of his finger moving in and out, in and out of your cunt didn’t help either. You’re staring at him lust-filled and dumbfounded; you wish he could just read your mind.
“Such a pretty pussy, baby.” He removes his finger and brings it to his mouth, swirling it around his tongue to savor you, “Tastes so sweet too.” 
“Where d’ya want me?”
You whimper pathetically at his words while making grabby hands at him. “I-inside, pleasepleas—” At this point, you don’t even know what you’re begging for.
In fact, you don’t even know anything…
“Don’t got any rubber, kid. Can’t fuck you, y’know?” Logan is fucking a liar. He threw all the condoms he had into the trash bin this morning for this sole purpose. You mumbles a small ‘wha’ into his face because he delays you over and over just for him to delay you again? 
No, no, no—you gotta have him now. 
You look at him like he’s the only man - like nothing matters but him and he’s making you furrow your brows in sadness, in desperation. 
So then,
“I-it’s okay… you can- still-if you want to. I’ll let you.” 
Bingo. 
Just how Logan wants this to go. Because again, out of your awareness, this is how Logan punishes you. For making him so jealous he can barely get any sleep, for pulling away from him the entire week that he can only jerk his cock off to your pink ribboned panties (the one that you left on his house), and for making him think about you every second he’s awake because you’re his air.
He was so fucking pissed—but now, he feels that he had won already. 
“Mhm, no can do, princess. Don’t wan’ you to regret it.” Your face fell into disappointment, can’t he see how much you want this? How much you need him? “‘S alright, yeah?” He says and earns a whiny protest from you. 
Tears begin to build up in your eyes as you stutter over your words. All you’ve got is sobs because you’re so overwhelmed by everything that’s happened tonight. You can only call out his name, trying to get his attention and affection. 
“Logan.” You’re squirming on the bed, wrapping your legs around his hips, pressing his body against yours— making him pull an indifferent look to continue on his act.  
“Next time, alright, kiddo?” He kisses the tip of your nose as a decoy. 
“N-no! Now! Please, Logan. Now, please—” You move your hips upwards and make his tip kiss your wetness. He begins to lose his composure when you wrap your small fingers around his cock. Logan grunts and lurches forward because he’s just an old man who needs you. There’s little he can do.
“Wan’ you inside…” You whisper breathlessly as you move your hands up and down on him the way he loves it, “‘S okay, Dada, I promise.” Your thumb swirls around his cockhead before bringing him closer and closer to where you want him until the tip pushes inside your aching folds, “‘Just pull out, okay?” 
Logan grins at you, showing his wrinkles. Oh, he won’t pull out. He knows he won’t. 
This is the climax of his ‘punishment’. Yes, he’s a bad man, the worst kind of man. But this is his only way to keep you, don’t you see? To make sure you won’t leave him, to make sure shit like yesterday won’t happen again. 
He bumps his nose into yours and kisses your forehead, “Y’sure, baby?” 
And you just let out a ‘yes’ because you just need him so so so badly. He nudges forward, in in in, until he’s buried inside of you—then he kisses your lips again. It’s so hot because he has never fucked you like this before, so raw and deep. After feeling your velvety walls, he knows he will never let you go. 
He starts a cruel pace and jolts you; your cute tits jiggle every time he thrusts inside—he’s sure that you’re made for him, to be with him. Put on this place to be his pretty baby and to have his baby. 
“Ya’ll let that boy do this to ya? Mm?” You shake your head rapidly at his question, hoping he’ll understand. And he does. “T-Tha’ right. Pussy’s glad to see me - loves me.” 
Your eyes squeezed so tight but he can’t stop, not when you’re squelching ‘round him and gripping him as if he’d disappear, “My good little girl - fuck - fuckin’ love you.” He confessed while burying his face on your neck and the only thing he has on his mind is puttin’ a baby in you.
It’s the truth: he loves you. More than anything–more than himself. He just doesn’t know how to show it in a normal way.
He thrusts and thrusts and thrusts—your moan gets louder and louder and louder. Logan takes your hands, interlinking your fingers together and kissing your knuckles.
You make these pathetic little noises, ah ah ahs, and he knows you’re close. Now is the time to do his final act, “Y’know why it feels so good, kid? 
He touching you everywhere: pinching your nipples and holding you by your throat,  “‘S ‘cause you’re fucking a real man, baby.”
“Y-yeah! Jus’ need a man—need you—” Logan nearly cums right there and then when he sees how tears stream down your cheeks as you look up at him in pure admiration—like you worship him. Again, just the way he wanted it.
Your shaky voice as a newborn fawn reminds him what he’s here for, what his punishment is to you.
“F-fuck. Gonna pull out soon, darlin’”
What? It’s too soon for you and your vice grip somehow manages to get stronger around him. He can barely withdraw before you squeeze your walls so deliciously and wrap your legs tighter; ankles locking his hips onto yours.  
“N-no! Don’t- don’t go anywhere— Staystaysta—” Logan sighs in relief. You ate up all his acts. It’s working. 
His palms move to your waist to work himself deeper in you, hitting that gummy spot that he knows will make you sob.
“Wha’dya mean no? Logan asks, “D-don’t wanna knock you up, kiddo.” Oh, but he does! He does. He does. “Gotta pull out. You don’t want that, ‘kay?” 
“I-I do! I do.” You finally plead to him with your soft voice. “I wan’ it..” 
Logan can’t last any second longer but it’s okay because you’re so close to getting to where he wants you.
He snarls a ‘Fuck’ under his breath and, “Gonna get ya’ pregnant, sweets.” His mouth gets to your neck and starts leaving dark bruises on your silky skin, “S’that what you want? My baby, hm?” 
“Yeah.” You squeak up while meeting down his thrusts, “Yeahyeahyea—gimme a baby.” You continue your mindless babble, your brain is empty except for the thoughts of him. “Fill me up, fill me up…” It’s becoming a plea. 
“I’ll fill you up, sweet girl.”
And he’s gone. Lips latching onto yours as you both reach ecstasy. Logan fucks you through it—fucks his seed so deep in you so it fuckin’ takes.
He wished he’d feel guilty as a sick old man for ruining you and your life—but here you are, milking him for all he’s got and telling him that you love him too.
You’re gorgeously unaware that he’s punishing you the entire time; you’re too fucked up when he’s spilling warm ropes of his cum on your walls. He pulls out slowly, staring at the white strings that gush out of your wet hole before plugging himself to make sure it takes.
Logan thinks everything’s fine because he’s got his assurance:  that you’re never going to leave him—that now you’re fully his—and that he has won. 
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undertheorangetree · 7 months ago
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Tantrum
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Summary- Art’s girlfriend sucks at tennis. He helps her feel better.
Warnings- MDNI 18+ NSFW. Female reader. Stanford era Art. Exhibitionism. Body worship. Cunnilingus. Wee bit of fingering. P in V sex. Riding. The fluffiest giggliest sex you've ever seen. Me not knowing a damn thing about tennis.
Author's Note- Hi idk if you noticed but i have Challengers brain rot rn specifically for Art Donaldson :// As a theatre kid I simply had no choice it was always gonna be him. Read the full fic on AO3.
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When Art had looked up at her with big pleading eyes, all but begging her to allow him to teach her the basics of tennis, she was in no position to refuse. It had been sweet, how badly he wanted to share his passion with her, the kisses he had peppered across her neck and chest in order to entice her into it, and she couldn’t so much as imagine denying him. Forget the fact that she had never held a racket in her life, that her strengths had always been rooted in academia rather than athletics.  If allowing him to teach her would make him happy, she would do it.
Though not without complaint.
She lets out a frustrated grunt as the ball hits the net- again- before turning her head up to glare at Art when he barely manages to stifle his laugh. He smothers it immediately when he catches sight of her glower, hand coming up to rub at his mouth as if he can physically wipe away his smile and she feels her teeth grind together.
“You can’t laugh. You’re the one who wanted me to do this so you’re not allowed to make fun of me,” she complains, her voice half petulance half hurt and immediately his face morphs into something more apologetic.
“I’m sorry baby.” He makes his way closer but she simply rolls her eyes, turning her nose up when he reaches out to her. He takes it in stride. “I’m not laughing at you, you’re doing very well. It’s just funny to see you so frustrated.”
It’s her turn to laugh, though it is little more than a humourless bark. “I am not doing very well. I suck.”
He makes a sympathetic noise as he attempts to reach for her again. She allows it begrudgingly, resisting the urge to roll her eyes as his hands close around her elbows, face dropping into her neck to press a kiss there. She thinks that he’s about to praise her further, try to coax her back into committing herself to the game, but he stays silent, continuing to lavish her with silent kisses.
She’s happy for the odd hour they decided to come here, the tennis court completely devoid of any other life. It’s a colder night than it should be for mid spring, the floodlights and moon the only two things to provide them with any light, and she’s grateful finals have chased everyone else away. She’s glad to have this time alone with him, despite her frustration. To feel like they are the only two people in the world.
“You’re just hitting the ball too hard,” he explains, face still half buried in her throat. “And you aren’t even attempting to aim. Putting everything you have behind the hit doesn’t make it a good one if you don’t know where you’re sending it. There’s more to tennis than just force, you have to be smart about it.”
She scoffs, reaching up to press her palm against his forehead and shove him away, ignoring the shit eating grin that’s made itself known on his face. “Just go over there and hit the damn ball. Before I leave you here by yourself.”
The grin doesn’t fade, his amusement more than clear, but he does as she asks, returning to his side of the court. She lets out another aggravated sigh as she returns to the position he had told her to wait in, knees bent as she waits for him to serve, realizing more and more that she prefers to watch him play tennis rather than do it with him. She finds far more joy watching him from the stands as he chases after the ball, sweat dripping from his curls and grunts echoing in her ears. Here, where she is the one chasing the ball like a damn dog and failing to send it sailing over the net when she does manage to catch it, there is no time to admire Art in his element.
She almost feels bad for her poor attitude, wishing she was less competitive so that she could simply enjoy this quality time with him, but every failure does nothing but enrage her further, sending her spiralling further into frustration.
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Read the rest here :)
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foreveradreamaway · 7 months ago
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helmets and hats- MV33/1
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summary- the stress his father put on him never left his head, and neither does his helmet. only until you turn up with his lucky cap.
yes i know max won 2021, this is for the plot don’t come for me
Abu Dhabi 2021. the ride or die race for max and lewis. both of them just one race away from being the world champion. this was one of the biggest races of maxs life. this was what he had been waiting for his whole life. everything his father had put him through was for this. he could not mess this up.
but he did.
you stood in the room with all the engineers and important people who help to ensure maxs car runs perfectly throughout the entire race. you knew how much pressure max had been putting on himself in the weeks leading up to the race. spending 10 times more time at the race simulator and even more time working his body tirelessly to make sure it was race ready. you had watched hopelessly when he would do this many times before and knew this was just how he works. no protest from you will stop him, only make him work harder. he will come to you whenever he needs that little bit of comfort and reassurance, or even just a quick kiss to keep him motivated.
it was your favourite thing. knowing that he still needed you. he could be so deep in his own mind and would still seek you out. only you. he relied on you. for some things more than others, but he still did and you both knew it. he didn't always admit it, or want to, but you both knew. you were his main source of comfort and he couldn't go a day without it. he needed you in every sense of the word. he needed your love, he needed you there to remind him to pack enough socks when he goes away, he needed you to look after him when he was ill and most importantly he needed you there for the losses.
your heart drops when they cross the finish line, further than its ever dropped before. he wanted this so bad, needed it even. he had never lost a race this big before. but you were prepared, you would do the exact same as you did every other loss.
your feet carry you over to the intern whos specific job was to hold maxs hat. it was a very important hat and needed a whole person for it. you had had many interactions with the intern, retrieving his hat every time he lost. she gave you a knowing smile as you took the hat from her hands and went to meet max at you're usual spot.
he doesn't look at anyone as he exits the car and storms off. he physically cant. he doesn't even remove his helmet as he walks over to you, something you were already prepared for. his head is hung low as he approaches you, your hand immediately finding his shoulder. his feet stop in place, keeping his head down. the visor of his helmet was still all the way down so you couldn't make out the expression on his face.
he doesn't say anything as he places his hand softly over yours that sits on his shoulder. you knew not to push him at a time like this, letting him take your comfort when he needs. you stayed like that until you felt a sob rake his body. immediately wrapping your arms around his neck. his arms stayed at his side as you just held him. it wasn't often that he cried, but when he did, he did.
you weren't sure how long you stood there until his hands found your hips. you took this as your sign to move both your hands to his shoulders, finally speaking the words on your mind.
"you did so good baby" your hands moved to the sides of his helmet, attempting to lift it over his head but his hands quickly grabbed yours and brought them down in between the two of you. your face scrunching in compassion. lots of people knew what his father was like when max was younger, you more than most. the constant badgering and abuse never left his head, sticking with him throughout his life. as much as you comforted him and told him how proud you were of him, he always did the same thing after his losses. refusing to take his helmet off.
instead, you move to lift his visor up, catching a quick glimpse of his tear stained cheeks. you didn't see them for long before he quickly swiped it back down to cover his face again. your hand, once again, went back to swipe it up. his hand repeating his previous actions. smiles appeared on both your faces as you both kept up the act. his hand returning to yours when he heard a giggle escape your lips, allowing the visor to stay up. your laugh was his drug.
your head tilted to the side when you finally got to look at him. his cheeks slightly squished from the sides of his helmet and those slightly red eyes staring back at you, full of emotion.
"let me take your helmet off max" you whispered. his eyes shut as he shook his head, dropping it down again. you rested you forehead against the helmet in front of you. hands still gripping each others.
"you're safe baby, ive got you. its just me and you here." his head still didn't rise until you pressed a kiss to the top of his helmet. "im sorry" he croaked. your arms wrapped back around his neck to provide the comfort he desperately needed in that moment. the front of his helmet rested on your shoulder causing your head to tilt to the side, when it did you caught a glimpse of his oh so special hat.
you let go of one of maxs hands and leaned slightly to be able to grab the hat. as you did max slowly lifted his head up to see what you were doing and caught you with the hat in hand. a small smile appeared on his face when he noticed. it was always the small things that he loved about you. the fact that you noticed all the little things that comforted him made him feel so seen and loved in a way that he never had before.
you made eye contact with max and he gave you a small nod, approval to remove his helmet. your hands reached up to the sides of his head and slowly lifted it off. you placed it on the table where the hat had previously sat and moved back in front of max. one hand going to the back of his neck to carefully remove his under layer. you had never seen his face look sadder.
he closed his eyes and moved his head to rest between your neck and shoulder. this time you could feel the tears that were coming from his eyes. your heart breaking even more with every tear that fell.
"im so proud of you max" you whispered gently in his ear.
"i did so bad, schatje baby" his voice could barely be heard as he just felt too weak from everything. his body was filled with emotions that he didn't even know existed. the disappointment he felt was sickening and he didn't quite know how to deal with these feelings. the only thing he could do was cry in your arms.
"no way you didn't, you drove so well my love. that race was yours, it was a split second thing. there was nothing more you could have done. ive never been more proud of you than i am now max, everyone is so proud of you" you always tried your hardest to comfort him after a loss but he was stubborn and rarely actually took in what you said.
"not my dad" his voice was low, as if he didn't even want you to hear what he said. but you did. his father always loomed in the back of his mind no matter what he was doing. his fathers voice booming through his brain.
"he isn't here, no one else matters but me and you right now. im proud of you and thats all that matters. you've given this season your all, trust me i would know" a soft smile fell on your lips, max couldn't help but stare at your mouth as you talked. "you've spent countless hours in that bloody gym at home and did everything you could to make sure the best max was out on them tracks this season. i promise you max so many people will believe that you won this race and are standing behind you" his face had seemed to calm down a little now. his eyebrows no longer scrunched and his frown was slowly become flat.
his eye fell to the hat that was in your hand, your eyes doing the same. your smile got bigger as you knew what he wanted. you quickly secured the hat on its rightful place on maxs head. hats had slowly become a comfort for max. you would hardly ever see him without one, especially on race weekends. it became a shield between him and the scary eyes of the world. all he needed to do was tilt his head slightly down and he was alone and away from the chaos.
he quickly secured his lips to yours as his hands found the sides of your neck. your hands grabbing his wrists. he needed one final reassurance from you before he had to face the horrible questions of the media.
"go do what you need to do baby, call me and ill come find you. remember, im so proud of you." you placed a final kiss to his nose and cheek before he grabbed his helmet and began to make his way out the room. "you'll always be my champion max verstappen" you winked before he disappeared out the room.
he was a champion, he didnt need a trophy to prove it.
i hope you enjoyed my first max fic, many more to come. please send me requests i love hearing them
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sturniluvr · 7 months ago
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All of me, loves all of you
Matt Sturniolo x fem!reader
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word count: 1.3k
warnings: possible spelling mistakes, some language, hate comments, nothing else lmk if I missed anything
summary: you’ve always been told in your life by multiple people that you’re always either too loud or too quiet and it’s one of your biggest insecurities but happens to be your boyfriend’s favourite thing about you.
A/N: sorta inspired by @obsidianbaby fic with a little twist and hers is a Chris version. Here it is if you want to check it out. Listen to John Legend ‘all of me’ while reading if you want <3
❗️semi proof read❗️
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You were on sat on the couch as the triplets rushed around the house getting the equipment they needed to film the car video, all they had left to find was a battery because Nick once again forgot to charge the battery so they had to find a charged one to replace the dead battery before filming whilst also waiting for their food to arrive.  
“Y/N are you joining us for the video? Or can I be Matt’s passenger princess?” Chris joked as he made his way past her towards the kitchen to check their junk drawer for the spare battery.  
“Fuck where is it?” He muttered to himself as he rummaged through the drawer, unsuccessful in finding what he was looking for. The younger woman didn’t acknowledge her best friend at first, her head being buried in her phone, more specifically, looking at the comments on last Friday’s car video where she was having one of her more quiet days and the comments surely picked up on the sudden mood change compared to her yapping in the Wednesday video prior to the Friday car video. 
‘She needs to make up her mind, either be loud or be quiet Jesus Christ’ 
‘How do they put up with her? She’s so annoying’ 
‘Y/N needs to be more entertaining omg😭’ 
‘One day she’s quiet the next she won’t stfu, must be so annoying to the triplets, how do they like her??? Especially Matt??? Poor guy’ 
‘She’s such a weirdo, either being way too loud or way too quiet💀’ 
‘Y/N?? You with me kid?” Chris waved his hand in front of her face to grab her attention. 
“Hmm? Sorry Chris what did you say?” She replied to the older boy. As he was about to reply, the doorbell rang signaling the food had arrived, Matt came from his bedroom and made his way down the stairs to open the door and get the food, thanking the delivery driver as he closed the door. He came back up the stairs and placed the bag of McDonald’s on the kitchen table, sorting out who’s is who’s. 
“I was asking if you were coming to film with us?” she shook her head in response. 
“No, I’ll sit this one out, I think. Maybe just watch a film or have a shower and an early night.” 
Matt’s head turned in the direction of his girlfriend and brother as soon as he heard the words leave Y/N’s mouth, immediately sensing something was wrong. 
“You okay baby? You feeling good?” He asked, concern written all over his features, Matt made his way over to the Y/H/C girl with her usual McDonalds order of 9 chicken nuggets, medium fries and a peach iced tea. He placed her food on the table in front of her and quickly raised the back of his hand to her forehead, her temperature seemed fine to him. 
“Yeah, I’m okay Matt, I promise, I’m just tired you know I’ve had a busy day.” She explained, looking up at her boyfriend with a not very convincing smile on her face, not convincing to Matt anyway, he could read her like a book. 
Nick had found the battery, and the camera was now ready to set up in the car. 
“You coming you two?” He calls out to the couple while grabbing his food off the kitchen table. Chris doing the same and stood with the oldest triplet waiting for an answer. 
“Give us a minute Nick, you and Chris head to the car.” Matt replied, throwing his car keys in the direction of Chris which he smoothly caught. The brothers made their way downstairs to the garage to unlock the car. In the living room, Matt was now sat next to Y/N on the couch. He noticed a stray tear make it’s way down her cheek.
“Baby please just tell me what’s bothering you. It can’t be silly if it’s making you cry.” he stated as he wiped the stray tears off her cheeks with his thumbs. He looked over to her unlocked phone that had since been discarded on the table, he removed his hands from her face and picked her phone up, raising his eyebrows as if asking permission to look through the phone. She nodded in silent understanding. He looked at the illuminated screen and a frown immediately made its way onto his face, followed by a glare at some of the comments that his so called fans had left about the love of his life. 
“They hate me.” Y/N said dejectedly, biting her nails anxiously as Matt continued to read the comments. Matt sighed before he replied. 
“Oh baby. A few comments mean nothing okay my love, what matters is what you think and what I think, and I think you’re amazing just the way you are.” 
“But Matt it’s not just a few comments! It’s every other comment, either saying you must be annoyed by me, or I don’t deserve you or that I’m a weirdo all because I’m always either too loud or too quiet! I’ve always been made fun of because of it!” She replied frustrated, tears beginning to well up in her eyes yet again.  
Suddenly Matt placed her phone face down on the couch and grabbed her hand before leading her to his bathroom. He switched the light on and placed her in front of the mirror and rested his chin on her shoulder and wrapped his arms around her waist. 
“See this woman in the mirror? She is the most perfect woman I have ever met, every little detail of her, from her freckles to her personality makes her even more perfect to me and I fall more in love with her every day.” He placed a trail of kisses leading from her shoulder up to her cheek before he loosened his hold on her waist to turn her so she was facing him before continuing.  
“Darling, you can’t let the things people who hide behind their screens tell you define you okay? It would break my heart to see their nasty words dim my princess’ light, okay? You are perfect to me, and that’s all that matters, okay? Not some bullshit random people on the internet say, they’re just jealous 12 year olds.” He joked, lightening the mood, causing a small smile to creep up on her face, he smiled at the sight.  
“There’s my favorite smile!” He exclaimed.  
He cupped her cheeks before speaking again.  
“Love, you have to remember if you ever feel like this again, is all of me loves all of you, okay? Always has and always will, you’re my favorite person and you being both loud and quiet balances me out perfectly, if I need a quiet and safe place you give that to me, or if I need to let off energy and be crazy, you go on all kinds of crazy adventures with me. I couldn’t be more thankful for you. I love you so much my angel.” 
“I love you too my love” she replied, happy tears now in her eyes as opposed to the sad and frustrated tears in her eyes not even 20 minutes ago. 
“What do you say, we go film the video with Nick and Chris, I want the better passenger princess next to me and not the one who burps 24/7 and looks like me” he joked, she let out a laugh at her boyfriend. 
“Sure, let’s go film. I wanna grab my food first though.” He nodded and the couple made their way into the living room to grab Y/N’s food before making their way down to the garage where they heard Nick and Chris arguing over something ridiculous, they both laughed at the pair. The two in the car noticed the couple stood in the doorway making their way to the car. Y/N got in the car while Matt remained outside, focusing the camera. Y/N threw a thumbs up to Matt as the camera was set up right. Chris gave Y/N a quick hug from the back seat before he spoke. 
“You good now kid?” He asked, she nodded and smiled back at him as Matt got in the car and pressed record. The four filming the video full of laughs and debates. Matt added in a little rant to the viewers on being nicer to Y/N and from that point forward, the hate comments had died down to the odd few from jealous fan girls. 
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pedrospatch · 8 months ago
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splash
Jackson! Joel Miller x Female Reader
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snapshots masterlist
summary: You come home from your first day back out on patrol and find Joel giving your daughter a bath.
warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. JACKSON ERA. GIRLDAD!JOEL. established relationship. this specific work does not mention reader’s age (other works in this series may mention she is younger than Joel), no physical description of reader, Rosemary comes with a slight physical description (she has Joel’s hair color/hair type and eye color, no mentions of her skin tone). brief mention of Sarah, brief mention of Joel being a single father pre outbreak, Joel and Ellie are fine because i said so and it’s what he deserves, okay? general fluff and a lot of cuteness, brief smutty themes, but nothing explicit. minimal editing.
word count: 2.3k
a/n: short little thing, but this feels like the cutest thing i have written in a while. if you enjoy it, please consider reblogging or leaving a comment <33
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Joel sighs to himself as he scrapes the remnants of Rosemary’s lunch into the bin of food scraps beside the kitchen counter—the neighbor’s chickens were in for a real treat tomorrow morning when he dropped them off on his way to patrol. He had just about coaxed his two and a half year old daughter into eating the crust of her jam sandwich when Ellie walked into the kitchen with a soccer ball tucked under her arm, a trade he was fairly certain she’d made more for the toddler’s sake than her own.
She was sixteen now, spent more time with her friends than she did with her family lately, but her soft spot for the little girl always, always brought her back home.
“Hey kid, look what I’ve got,” Ellie had grinned, holding the ball out for the child to see. “What do you say we go out back and kick this thing around? Sound like fun?”
He frowned, the creases between his brows deepening.
“Ellie, can’t you see I’m in the middle of feedin’ her—”
But it had been too late.
Rosie’s dark brown eyes widened, and she squealed in delight. “Down! Down!” she had exclaimed, whacking her teeny hands down on top of her wooden high chair on either side of her plate. “Daddy! Down, want down!”
Joel decided to put his foot down.
Well, he had tried to put his foot down, anyway.
“Not ‘til you’ve finished every last bite, babygirl. Y’gotta finish your sandwich and eat all your carrots, alright?”
“M’all done,” she’d insisted, placing both hands on her belly. Although Joel would have preferred she clean her plate, you had taught him to honor her fullness cues.
“We have to listen to Rosemary,” you’d told him. “If she says she’s full, then she’s full. The last thing we want to do is force her to keep eating when she’s not hungry, Joel. Her relationship with food starts with us, after all.”
“You’re startin’ to sound like that goddamn child rearin’ book,” he had teased you, earning himself a stern glare.
He liked to give you a hard time about it, but the truth of the matter was, that parenting book you found in the library turned out to be pretty helpful for both of you—while this wasn’t Joel’s first rodeo, the last time he had been around a child this young was over three decades ago. With Sarah, he’d flown through her childhood by the seat of his pants, went through a lot more trial and error scenarios than he liked to admit.
Often, Joel found himself feeling guilty. He tried to give some credit to the clueless young man in his twenties, the one who had been left to raise his baby girl all on his own when her mom couldn’t take it anymore after one year. Things turned out alright, but whenever he sees you with Rosemary, takes in the way you pour your entire heart into being a good mother to yours and his daughter, he can’t help but reminisce on his first life, on all those moments he felt so hopeless—all of those moments when he didn’t know what to do, and had no one to turn to for help. No one to lean on.
Oh how he wished Sarah could have known what it was like to have both of her parents at her side.
Like Rosie does.
Sighing, Joel places her plate in the sink, along with his own. He turns and glances at the clock on the wall—it’s half past noon, and he knows your early morning patrol group should be arriving back to the town’s main gates any minute now. Sure, caring for Rosemary had served as a decent distraction, but every so often, his anxieties would creep up on him. He worried about you being out there on the other side of the wall. And if you being out there wasn’t bad enough, you were out there without him.
“I’m back on the patrol roster next week,” you informed him one evening while the two of you were cleaning the kitchen after supper. You winced when he dropped the plate in his hands into the sink, the loud clanking noise bouncing off the walls. You wasted no time in pleading your case. “It’s been almost three years, Joel. I have to get back to pulling my weight around here. As much as I’d love to, I can’t stay home forever, and you know that as well as I do.”
Slowly, he’d spun around to face you, the muscle in his jaw ticking—he wasn’t happy. “Find another job,” he bit through his teeth. “Somethin’ in town. Somethin’ safe.”
“Joel—”
“You’re a mother now!” he hissed, angrily.
“And you’re a father,” you’d countered without missing a beat. Knowing Joel’s reaction was only coming from a place of concern, you walked up to him and placed a hand on his heaving chest, right over his racing heart in an effort to calm him. “Look, I’m just capable of getting myself home safely as you are, alright? And if it makes you feel any better, I’ll be partnered with Tommy. He’ll have my back.”
He’d found very little consolation in that.
Joel sighs again and reaches for the faucet.
“Uh, Joel?” Ellie’s voice comes from behind him.
“What?” He turns around, his jaw dropping open when he sees her standing there, carefully holding Rosemary out towards him by her underarms. She’s covered from head to toe in mud. “What the hell did you do to her?”
“You know how it was raining for like three days?” Ellie shoots him a sheepish smile. “The ball went into a mud puddle, and well, she sorta went in after it.”
“Jesus Christ, she’s filthy!” Exasperated, Joel narrows his eyes at her. “Why weren’t you watchin’ her?”
“I was, but she was too fast! Kid’s a little speed demon, man. Aren’t ya, Rosie?”
Rosie giggles and kicks her dangling feet, mud dripping off her tiny, leather oxford shoes and onto the floor with an audible splatter.
“She’s gonna be home from patrol any minute now,” he says, shaking his head. “If she sees Rosie like this, she’ll have my ass, and yours.” Carefully, he takes Rosemary from Ellie’s hands, holding her out and away from him. He jerks his chin towards the dirty floor. “Clean up this mess while I take her upstairs and give her a bath. We might just be able to get away with this.”
She gives him a thumbs up. “You got it, old man.”
“C’mon, Rosie Posie. Let’s get you all washed up before mama gets home and puts all three of us in a timeout.”
She gives him a wide, toothy smile. “Okay, daddy.”
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Groaning, you shove through the front door.
You had underestimated how difficult it would be to get back in the saddle of a horse after almost three years of not being in one.
It would take some getting used to—again.
“Fuck,” you hiss, closing the door and leaning against it for support. Your knees. Your thighs. Your lower back.
There isn’t a single part of you that isn’t aching.
After taking a minute to collect yourself, you push away from the door and toe off your old, brown leather boots, leaving them there near the entryway. You call out, “I’m home!”
“Oh hey!” From seemingly out of nowhere, Ellie comes speeding down the hallway, skidding to a stop in front of you with her backpack slung over her shoulder. “Just the person I wanted to see! Mind if I head over to Dina’s for a while?”
“How long is a while, El?”
“She invited me to stay for dinner.”
You raise a knowing eyebrow at her, a smirk tugging at the corners of your mouth. “Again?”
Flushing, Ellie nods. “Yeah.”
“Did you ask Joel for permission?”
“Aw come on, man! Do I really have to ask Joel?” She huffs and rolls her eyes. “I can hear him bitching at me already.” Dropping her voice several octaves, she starts to mimic him, accent and all. “Y’been spending every fuckin’ night over there. Don’t you forget you’ve got a family, kiddo.”
Amused, you chuckle and lightly nudge her shoulder. “I have to take his side on this one, Ellie. It would be nice for the four of us to have dinner together. You know, like we used to before Dina came into the picture?” 
“I’ll stay home for dinner for the rest of the week,” Ellie swears, clasping her hands together. “Please?”
Sighing in defeat, you step aside. “Alright, go ahead. I’ll hold you to your word though, alright?”
“Thank you!” she grins as she breezes past you and out the door, slamming it shut behind her.
Shrugging out of your jacket, you hang it up in the hall closet and then head upstairs. “Joel? Are you up here?” There’s no answer. You pass by Rosemary’s room first and peek inside only to find it empty. Furrowing a brow, you head a bit further down the hallway into yours and Joel’s bedroom. That’s when you hear his voice coming from the en suite bathroom.
There, you find him kneeling on the tile floor beside the tub, his back to you as he gives your daughter her bath. Hours ahead of her normal schedule, you realize.
Casually leaning against the doorframe, you cross your arms over your chest, and quietly watch them, your lips already curling into a smile.
“What’s this?” Joel asks her, holding up a yellow rubber duck. It’s almost comical how small it looks in the palm of his large hand.
“Duckie!” Rosemary answers, enthusiastically.
He nods. “S’right, honey. It’s a duckie. And what sound does a duckie make?”
Craning your neck, you catch a glimpse of her sweet little face as she stares at him, her expression a mingle of equal parts curiosity and confusion.
“C’mon now, babygirl,” Joel prompts her, handing her the toy. “Mama taught you this already, remember?”
She looks at the rubber duck and thinks, thinks, thinks. 
After a minute, Rosie gasps and shouts, “Quack!”
“S’right! Good job, Rosie,” he praises. Leaning over the edge of the tub, he presses a kiss into her damp, dark brown curls. “That’s my girl. You’re so smart.”
“Quack!” Giggling, Rosie lifts her chubby arms over her head, bringing them down into the water with all of her might, splashing Joel. She does it over and over again, soaking his face and the front of his denim shirt as she chants, “Quack, quack, quack!”
“Alright, alright, alright!” Joel laughs, shaking his head. He lifts an arm, wiping at his face with the sleeve of his shirt. “S’enough, my little duck. Daddy already had his shower today.”
Grinning, you saunter up behind him, and with a bit of protest from your back, you bend over to kiss the top of his head. You say in jest, “Without me?”
“Mama!” Rosie cries happily, reaching for you.
“Hi baby, I missed you!” Leaning down further, you kiss her cheek, the soothing, calming scent of her lavender soap invading your senses. Drawing yourself back up to full height, you glance down at Joel with suspicion. “Is there any particular reason you’re giving her a bath so early today?”
You can tell he’s contemplating lying to you. That is, until your eyes flicker over to her muddy clothes, which lie in a heap next to the hamper.
He’d forgotten to get rid of the evidence.
“Joel? What happened to my child?”
“We, uh, we had a little problem earlier this afternoon,” Joel explains, his ears burning red. “She was out in the backyard playin' with Ellie and she got into one of the mud puddles.”
“Rosemary Miller!” you playfully scold her. Placing your hands on your hips, you ask,“Is that true, young lady? Did you get into a mud puddle?”
Rosie beams. “Yeah!”
Rolling your eyes, you laugh and shake your head. “You silly girl.”
“Thought you’d be mad, darlin’,” Joel admits, peering up at you in relief.
“Joel, all that I ask when I leave her alone with you and Ellie is that I come home and she’s still in one piece,” you tease him.
Dipping his hand into the water, Joel splashes you, and of course, Rosemary decides to follow his lead and she does the same, bursting into another fit of giggles.
“Get her, Rosie, get her!” he encourages her. 
“Hey!” You jump backwards, almost tripping over your own feet. “Cut it out! You’re getting water everywhere!”
About an hour later, once both Rosie and the bathroom floor are dry, Joel puts her down for her long overdue afternoon nap. He heads back into the bedroom where you’re digging in a drawer for a pair of clean leggings and a sweatshirt. He comes up behind you, his arms snaking around your waist as he nuzzles his nose into your neck. He inhales deeply. 
“Ew, Joel, stop it! I’m all filthy,” you say, wiggling to get away from him. 
Joel holds you tighter. “Mm, I love it when you’re filthy, baby,” he smirks. “C’mon. She’s out for at least an hour. We’ve got some time to ourselves.”
“I’m so sore,” you whine. “From riding a horse all day.”
His lips find the shell of your ear and he whispers, “Too sore to ride me, darlin’?”
Biting back a tiny whimper, your head falls back onto his shoulder as wet heat pools between your thighs. He lightly nips at your pulse point, his teeth scraping your tender, delicate flesh.
“Jesus,” you breathe when he presses into you. You feel him against the small of your back—he’s already hard. “Can you at least let me bathe first?”
Joel hums. “I’ve got a better idea, baby.” Spinning you around, he reaches for the buttons of your shirt. “How’s about we save some water and shower together?”
“Thought you already had a shower today,” you remind him of what he’d said earlier.
He pushes your shirt off your shoulders and licks his lips. “I’m sure as hell up for another one.”
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divider credit to @/saradika 🩵
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therealcocoshady · 9 months ago
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Hi coco!
Can you do a one shot about a younger actress reader?
There is a tiktok going viral about her saying that she likes older men and another where she is looking at marshall at an event with "fuck me eyes"?
Reader freaks out when marshall just slides into her dms but later they are spotted together at the paparazzi?
I just find it cute and awkward 💀
DADDY’S SPAGHETTI 🍝
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Eminem x Young Actress Reader
Synopsis : You are a young actress whose crush on Eminem becomes public. You are mortified about it… until he slides in your DMs.
Author’s Note : I absolutely LOVED this request, I had to give it a go ❤️. I was inspired and I swear I never wrote anything that quickly. It is short and sweet and I hope you enjoy it. ☺️
You thought you were done being publicly embarrassed. Yet, life was proving you wrong. As an actress who had her start in her teenage years, you weren’t a stranger to embarrassment. From awkward casting calls to stupid deaths on TV, it was practically part of the job. However, as your career evolved, you thought it would go away. After all, you were now in a better position, able to choose the projects you were involved in and you had garnered the respect from your peers and the industry. Even the media had become more kind towards you. In a matter of years, you had gone from the awkward teen movie star to well-respected actress, and you were able to look back fondly to your early years. You even joked about how awkward you were, back then. The last thing you expected was for it to start all over again. 
You were walking the red carpet for the premiere of your latest movie, your biggest project to date. It was truly the highlight of your career : a role created specifically for you, a movie directed by someone you admired, a beautiful story told on the big screen… You had gotten your fair share of praise in the past, but you knew this was going to be your « big break ». Behind the scenes, everyone had praised your performance and told you it was « Oscars material ». You didn’t know if that was true or not, but you were on cloud nine nonetheless. When you walked the red carpet at the premiere, in a custom Elie Saab gown, everything felt right and you weren’t even stressed out when you answered the questions of a few journalists present. 
You look truly amazing, tonight, one commented. Who are you wearing ? 
Thank you ! This is a custom Elie Saab, I feel like a princess. I sort of had to dress up for this beautiful event, you replied as you tried to shift the focus on the movie. 
This is your biggest role to date, another said. How do you feel about the movie ? Have you seen it ? 
I’ve seen bits and pieces. But I’m going to discover the whole thing tonight, you said with excitement. I’m very confident. Filming with such a director was an honor and I know that the result will be great. I can’t wait for everyone to see it ! 
One thing that everybody is really excited about is the soundtrack, too, a third journalist chimed in. Eminem was involved. Have you heard the theme song yet ? 
I haven’t, you said. But it’s Eminem so I know it’s going to be absolutely fantastic ! I can’t wait to hear it ! 
You sound like you like his work. Have the two of you met ? They asked. 
Oh, I’m his biggest fan, you said with a huge smile. His music’s the soundtrack to my life ! But no, I haven’t met him… 
Tonight’s your chance, they joked. He is over there. 
They pointed to him and Eminem was, indeed, a few feet away from you. He had been a celebrity crush of yours for years and you were absolutely starstruck. He was even more attractive than in pictures ! You couldn’t help but stare. This man was oozing charisma and commanding attention. You didn’t even notice that you were looking at him with « fuck me » eyes and licking your lips. For a brief instant, you completely forgot where you were, until you heard your name being called, signaling that you had to keep walking and enter the screening room. That night, you didn’t get a chance to meet your idol, though. As the lead of the movie, people kept on coming over to you and talking to you. It was probably for the best, too. You had been starstruck enough on the red carpet ad you did not trust yourself to have a pleasant exchange with him. 
Of course, the video of you thirsting over Eminem went viral. It would have been kind of cute if other clips hadn’t surfaced. There were videos from years ago, of you talking about having a crush on him - God, you really didn’t have a filter, back then - and especially one interview where you were candid about being attracted by older men. 
What’s your type when it comes to men and dating ? The journalist asked. 
I like mature, older men, you said candidly. I’m not really attracted to people my age. 
Any physical features you’re attracted to ? 
Oh, it’s typical, you know, you giggled. Dark hair, blue eyes… I like a nice beard, too. 
So basically… Eminem ? The interviewer playfully asked. 
Oooof… You have no idea, you replied with a grin. 
Isn’t he… Old enough to be your Dad, though ? 
Let’s just say I wouldn’t mind calling Marshall Mathers Daddy, you giggled. 
At the time, this interview didn’t make much noise. It was for an indie podcast and, seeing as you weren’t too famous at the time, it sort of flew under the radar. It was kind of a harmless joke and a nod to your thirst for him, which all your friends were very much aware of. However, the video resurfaced after the viral red carpet clip, and people were quick to make edits, soberly titled « Y/N thirsting over Eminem over the years ». Your friends jokingly forwarded them to you and you know they were being playful, but to you, it was everything but fun. You were absolutely mortified. Having a crush on him was one thing, but there was a literal video of you staring at him like you were in heat. So much for being a classy movie star… 
The nail in the coffin came when Marshall was interviewed and asked to react to the video of you thirsting over him. He seemed genuinely surprised, leading to think that he wasn’t aware of the clip before the interview. All in all, he didn’t say much, he just described the whole thing as « flattering » and quickly went on to praise your performance in the movie : « We didn’t actually meet, but I saw the movie, which I worked on the soundtrack for, and she is really amazing in it. Really talented. ». Thank God, he didn’t add to your embarrassment. Your friends were going crazy over this « Come on, Y/N, he said he was flattered and that you’re talented ! That’s cute ! You should DM him or something », they encouraged you. However, you didn’t. He was clearly just being classy and not publicly embarrassing you - you did that on your own anyway. 
A few days later, however, you had the biggest surprise of your life : a DM from him on Instagram. At first, you thought it was a fake account and didn’t pay it much attention but it was clearly him, verified account, blue tick and everything. You were nervous to open it and you almost didn’t want to. What would he say to you ? Most likely something along the lines of « Please don’t mention me ever again, that’s awkward, you’re awkward and your filmography is trash anyway». It actually took you a couple of days to muster the courage of opening it. Thankfully, it wasn’t anything horrible. Quite the contrary, actually. He was in LA for the week and wanted to know if you’d have dinner with him. You were terrified and freaking out, but also excited. At first, you were reluctant - what if you embarrassed yourself ? But ultimately, curiosity got the best of you and you accepted. Surely, if he asked you to have dinner with him, it couldn’t be that bad, right ? 
A couple of days later, the two of you went for dinner and joined at SoHo House in West Hollywood. Due to both of your fame, a members-only social club was a safe pace that allowed for privacy. You were nervous, at first, and some paranoid part of your brain was scared that it would be a complete disaster, but it was the contrary. He introduced himself as Marshall and was an absolute gentleman and a sweetheart. He mentioned he had seen a lot of your movies and described himself as an admirer of your work. The whole evening, conversation flowed easily between the two of you. He put you at ease and was one of the most interesting persons you had ever met, knowledgeable on a lot of subjects and funny as hell, too. You weren’t too sure, but it also seemed like he was subtly flirting with you, though you didn’t want to get in your own head and make assumptions. He was so chill that you weren’t star struck anymore, but you were still reasonably impressed and too scared to flirt, so you simply enjoyed conversation with him. You were usually scared to meet people you admired, afraid that you’d have a terrible interaction with them that would taint your perception of their work, but the whole dinner was heavenly and you were so glad he DMed you. In his company, time seemed like a foreign concept, so much so that you had to be kicked out of the club’s restaurant, since you were the only customers left and it was 2 in the morning. 
I can’t believe we’ve been here for six hours already, you giggled. Time really flew by. 
It did, he said with a smile. I’m really glad we did this, Y/N. 
Me too, you said shyly. 
You were in the lobby, about to part ways, and your heart was beating fast. The way he spoke your name had you feeling all the feels and you didn’t really want the moment to end. He was staring at you intently while you were nervously biting your lip, trying not to say something awkward that could ruin the night. « Don’t be that person, Y/N », you thought to yourself. 
Thank you for coming, he said. When you didn’t reply to my DM, I thought you didn’t really want to meet. But I had a really great time tonight. 
Yeah, sorry I… I actually took a few days to open your message because I was scared, you confessed. I mean, we haven’t addressed the elephant in the room tonight, but I did kind of make a fool of myself on the red carpet. And when you wrote, I was kind of nervous. 
You didn’t make a fool of yourself, he said reassuringly. Nothing to be embarrassed about. It was kind of adorable. 
No need to sugarcoat it, you said nervously. You’ve seen that video of me thirsting over you… 
I have, he said as he got closer to you. I’m pretty lucky… 
A-Are you ? You asked nervously. 
Yeah… Thank God they didn’t catch me staring at you the whole night of the premiere, he continued. Because I literally couldn’t take my eyes off you. You’re gorgeous. 
Oh ? Uhm… I mean… The glam team really did a good job, you babbled. And the stylists, too. 
They really did, he said with a smile as he got even closer. You were stunning. 
I mean, it was a lot of work for me to look good, you know ? I mean I normally look like tra-… I mean, not trash but you know it’s… 
There you were. Embarrassing yourself. There was only so much time you could spend in his intoxicating presence without making a fool of yourself and, apparently, it was six hours. He was smiling and you nerves were getting the best of you. You didn’t drink too much at dinner and you couldn’t even blame it on the cocktails. Just your dumb brain making interactions awkward. Thank God the lobby was dimly lit, otherwise, he would have seen your face turn bright red. You cheeks were burning from embarrassment. 
I-I’m sorry, you said. I’m not good at talking to hot people. I mean you’re… Oh my God, why can’t I shut up ? I’m sorry, it’s late and -
I’ll help you, he chuckled as he cupped your face and kissed you. 
The kiss was soft and romantic and you could feel him smile into it. He had one hand stroking your cheek while the other one was on your waist, pulling you close to him. You wrapped your arms around his neck and fully leaned into the kiss as your lips parted ways, allowing his tongue to caress yours. Thank God it was late and you were the only people there, having some sense of privacy while the kiss got more and more passionate. When he broke the embrace, Marshall grabbed your hand and pressed his forehead to yours. 
Would you like to come to my room ? He asked with a smile. 
Ok, you nodded - still a bit dizzy from the kiss. 
In the elevator, you kissed hungrily and there was absolutely no doubt as to where this was headed. You usually weren’t the kind of girl to sleep on the first date, but your five-date policy was thrown to the fire. Marshall was way too hot, way too charismatic. Also, you’d fantasized about him long enough to make an exception. If every wet dream of yours he had inhabited over the years counted as a date, this was actually overdue. You made it to the room and quickly ended up on the bed with him on top of you, nipping at the sweet spot in your neck. 
Marshall, you moaned. 
You meant « Daddy », right ? He asked with a smirk. 
You stared at him with your mouth open, almost embarrassed as you remembered your comment about how you wouldn’t mind calling him Daddy. Your shocked expression made him laugh and he didn’t give you time to reply. Instead, he captured your lips and ran his hands under your blouse. That night, you did end up calling him « Daddy », as well as screaming his name while he ravished you in every way possible until the both of you passed out from exhaustion. 
The next morning, as you woke up in his arms, you weren’t too sure what to do or say, wondering if that was a one time thing or not. However, you weren’t confused for too long as Marshall asked you on another dinner date. You saw each other as much as possible for the remainder of his stay in California. It was meant to be casual, at first, but it quickly became more and, even though the two of you were busy, you tried to make it work. Whenever he came to LA to work with Dre, he would stay at your place and, as soon as you had free time, you flew to Michigan to spend time with him. It was only a matter of time until rumors started to emerge about the two of you, though you were careful not to be spotted together. 
DADDY’S SPAGHETTI : Y/N SPOTTED IN DETROIT. 
Oscar-nominated actress Y/N was spotted in Detroit last week. She was seen grabbing a takeout order from Mom’s Spaghetti on Woodward Avenue. Through the years, Y/N has been quite vocal about her love of Eminem, but it seems like she’s doing more than supporting the Rap God’s business venture. The hoodie she was wearing does look a lot like the one Eminem was wearing a few days earlier when he was spotted attending the Lions game. Last time she walked the red carpet, Y/N was seen thirsting over the Detroit rapper. Is there a chance they could appear at the Oscars together ?
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aphel1on · 6 months ago
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Dungeon Lords and the Human Need for Connection
When I came across these panels again the other day, it got me thinking about dungeon lord parallels again.
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...And I spiraled until I was writing my thesis statement about how All Four Dungeon Lords (Yes, Even Laios, Stop leaving him out of these discussions) Are Actually the Same.
Firstly (because on some level everything is about Thistle to me) I thought about how the lion could have very likely given Thistle a similar offer when his loved ones started losing their souls/rebelling/etc. And yet, there is no sign that Thistle ever accepted such an offer, nor any sign that he used magic to forcibly change people's opinions, the way Marcille briefly threatened the party with while she was dungeon lord:
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Instead, he ended up with the fucking dining table that drives me insane. Which probably means that either Thistle rejected the offer, or the lion sensed it wouldn't go over well and didn't even try it.
Making replicas of people doesn't seem to be an uncommon part of granting the dungeon lord's wishes. In his time, Mithrun actually took the demon up on it:
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(Not pictured; the infamous lamia-version of his love interest.)
What makes Mithrun different from Thistle and Marcille in this instance is that Thistle and Marcille both became dungeon lords for the sake of specific people. Both were motivated by the terror of losing their most important people, and both told themselves everything they did was for the sake of protecting those people.
Because they were motivated by genuine love, copies or mind manipulation were not palatable. I think Thistle even in the late stages of his madness probably would not find these to be acceptable solutions. No matter how twisted, possessive, and obsessive his love became under the dungeon's influence, it was still from the fear of losing those original, irreplaceable people that he was doing all this. Even as his relationship with Delgal and the other Melinis fell apart over the years... even as he was left with only their soulless bodies... he would still rather cling to whatever was left.
Perhaps on some level, Thistle recognized the same thing that kept Marcille from following through with her threats:
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Even in the state of endlessly chasing their desires as dungeon lords, they couldn't feel truly okay accomplishing it that way.
For Mithrun, meanwhile, the people in his fantasy world were a means to an end. It was all-encompassing insecurity and the pain of not being wanted that led him to become dungeon lord. His desire was not fixated on any specific people - it was broad enough and desperate enough that anyone could fulfill it. The thing is, Mithrun prior to becoming dungeon lord was by all accounts well-liked. But his emotional walls were up so high that not a single one of his admirers could make him feel known and cared for. The kind of crushing perfectionism he exhibited in that stage of his life often comes with a silent and equally crushing imposter syndrome. No one actually knew him, because Mithrun didn't let them, even though every aspect of his personality then was a desperate plea to be seen and liked. I think the sad truth is that, by the time he became dungeon lord, Mithrun didn't truly believe that happiness was something that could be found in other people. (It's telling that his wish was for a world in which he had never been discarded; perhaps for a world in which he never felt the need to put up those masks.)
In this respect, Mithrun is actually more alike to Laios than he is to Thistle and Marcille.
Laios was told again and again by the world that it was wrong to be who he was - that he was unlikeable when he acted the way that came naturally to him. The lion didn't bother asking Laios about replicas; those would be meaningless to him. Like Mithrun, Laios had lost all hope of being liked for who he was, but took it one step further: Laios had lost hope that he could find happiness in the human world entirely. At that point, all he wanted was an escape. To leave the pain of the human world behind and become someone, something, different. All he really needed in order to be tempted into it was the assurance that his friends would be safe.
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All four of these stories have a pretty obvious throughline when you think about it: the deep, intrinsic need for human connection and what happens to someone when that need cannot be met.
All four of them were starving for connection. All four of them experienced alienation and isolation that made them desperate enough to turn to the demon.
Marcille (a half-elf whose unstable aging left her without peers) and Thistle (raised as the only elf in a kingdom of humans) both formed intense attachments to the few people they did become close to, and went off the deep end from fear of losing them.
Mithrun and Laios were both rejected by others for aspects of themselves that were out of their control, and tried to cope by developing masks that left them unable to feel accepted by the people still in their lives.
...So it's fitting, then, that genuine human connection is also what saved all four of them in the end.
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(Thistle is a little arguable here; I personally don't think he died, but even if you do believe he died at the end of the manga- Yaad being able to connect and empathize with him is what gave him peace and solace in his final moments.)
Dungeon Meshi is about alienation and connection as much as it is about food and cycles of life. (Or more like, these themes are masterfully intertwined - food is used to represent love and connection over and over again. But that's a whole essay in and of itself!)
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koling2345 · 4 months ago
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Haunted
Simon Riley X Fem! Reader
Tw: angst(?), smut, unprotected sex, body descriptions(especially Simon's body🫠), threats mentioned, break up.
Summary: Meeting with your ex after a sudden break-up, what could go wrong?
Wc: 5.4k
A/n:Sorry that this took so long😭 Uni and work are biting my ass recently. Again, sorry for mistakes, it's late, and I'm sleepy but wanted to post. Hope y'all like it.
Simon was a man who always seemed to be grieving, so serious, too stoic, he hardly spoke. But that changed with you, he was gentle, soft, loving, that was just you, just you.
You certainly made a change in his life, in such a good way that Simon wondered if he really deserved someone like you.
But that's Simon Riley's life, where everything he cared about died or left him.
Where nothing he wanted turned out right.And his relationship with you was perfect, you were someone who understood him so well, for some reason you always managed to calm him down when he was in the worst of moods. You were definitely for him.
Everything changed after a mission, it was supposed to be just another terrorist group that he had to stop, but it was different this time. At the time of the mission, everything went smoothly, according to the plan Price had drawn up, almost without a flaw.
The problems began to appear as soon as they got back to base, and after the mission was completed, the team members began to receive threats. Several at once, with no specific address or format.It could be a cell phone message, a piece of paper with something strange written on it, a call that as soon as you answered the phone went silent, just a breath on the other end. Any kind of thing.
Given the kind of job Simon had, this was a fairly normal occurrence, he had enemies left and right, he probably had more enemies than friends at that point. Most of the time these threats were nothing more than bluffs by someone who had been upset by the death of a criminal, friend or family member.
But as every rule has its exception, this time the threats weren't empty.One day at the base, Johnny arrived distressed, saying that his sister had received a threat to her life, and it hadn't been over the phone. The poor girl woke up to a rock being thrown through her window, almost hitting her.
No one knew how they had found Johnny's family, how they had managed to find his confidential information, but they had, and now it wasn't just the boys who were in some kind of danger.
And the situation got worse as the days went by, the next event was with Price, and Gaz soon followed. In the same way, it affected people close to them.Simon was the only one who came out of all this 'unscathed', because before they could find the only important person in his life, you, he made sure to send you as far away from his life as possible.
No matter how painful it was.As much as he hated the decision, there was no way he could go back on it, because that would be putting your safety at risk.
And he certainly couldn't take any chances, he'd seen Johnny's family threatened to be killed, Price's children almost kidnapped, and Kyle's partner stalked. This didn't happen without reason, or by pure coincidence. Simon had been in this line of work for a long time, long enough to know that this was revenge, and there was a good chance that the enemies would only stop when they managed to hurt someone. And he wouldn't risk your life for the world. Not ever.
So it was easier to get away from you, to end the relationship in the most stupid way possible, to make you angry with him, and it was easier to get away from him.Because he knew that if for some reason he told you the real reason for that reaction, there was no way you would agree to break up with him. No way.
In the worst-case scenario, he knew what had to be done, and he did it.He's felt like shit ever since, just remembering the way you started crying and sobbing when he told you he wanted to break up with you was enough to put a lump in his throat.It had been three weeks since he'd done that to you, and even then the feeling didn't go away, if anything, it got worse.
These last few days he'd been drinking more than usual, smoking as many cigarettes a day as Price. It wouldn't be surprising if he had black lung before he was fifty.It was something that eased some of the anguish he was carrying, even if only for a moment.
So today was another Saturday, a day off he'd gotten after working all week, and just like last week, he found himself in the same place, the pub he always came to.He'd already lost count of how many shots he'd had, at which point the bourbon didn't even burn as it went down his throat. Maybe he was a bit tipsy, but not drunk, Simon had a high resistance to such things.
But even the amount of cigarettes and booze he'd consumed that night wasn't enough to inhibit his vision of the silhouette that appeared in the corner of his eye.In any case, at first he thought they had put something strange in his drink, perhaps causing some delirium.But no, it was you, in person.
You looked so beautiful, like a vision of paradise. If he was being honest, seeing you showing off all those curves in a tight dress was enough to make his mind go to dirty places.
Despite this, you didn't seem to see him, too excited about your friends to pay attention to what was around you. Not that he cared, since a small part of him was grateful that you hadn't noticed him, he didn't know if he could bear to see your sad eyes one more time.
So he took on the role of silent observer, standing in the corner as he watched your movements. And, it was eerie, unsubtle, but it was the only way he could see you up close after so long.Simon knew it might be better to leave, because the more time he spent in your presence, the more he wanted to go up to you and grab you, but he controlled himself.
Well, he didn't know until when.
A long time passed, and you still didn't notice him there, until one of your friends whispered something to you, causing you to look at Simon almost immediately. He was without that skull mask that he only wore for work, outside the field the piece of cloth was locked in a drawer.
His eyes were fixed on you, he didn't even bother to disguise it. And you felt like you could map his face just by looking at him, the small scruff of hair growing on his face, the scars he had here and there. One of these was large, running from his cheek to his mouth.But that's what made him unique, the Simon you knew and loved like crazy.
When he broke up with you, it was all so fast, you couldn't understand it. For days you wondered if it was something you had done, because Simon was certainly an enigmatic man, but you knew he would tell you if you had done anything wrong.
The relationship ended with gaps, gaps that you desperately wanted to understand.Simon knew how to avoid you, and he did so over the last few weeks, you went to his apartment several times, you texted him, it was humiliating, but you wanted to understand why he made that decision.
But after a few weeks with no results, you gave up, and now you're here facing him again.Not that you're much of a believer in such things, but you'd like to think that this meeting wasn't in vain, not a coincidence of fate. Maybe this was your last chance to get along with him, and you were going to make it count.
Well, not in the cleanest way in the world, not least because you doubted very much that Simon would talk to you out of sheer will. But that's what friends are for, isn't it? Surely they could help you get the lieutenant's attention.
With that in mind, you and your friend put on a little show, pretending that he'd knocked you down and that you'd hurt your foot in the process. Not that it was difficult, given the heels you were wearing.
After faking the little fall, you saw Simon's expression change for a few seconds, and you knew for sure that he had fallen for your trick. The moment you fell, he almost got up from the stool he was sitting on, almost going to rescue you from the fall.Almost.
And you even said out loud that you were going to the restroom to check, denying your friends' help and pretending to be tough, something Simon hated. Little by little, he fell for your little story.
Maybe you were just a good actress, or Simon was too concerned about everything that involved you. Go on, probably both.
You made your way limply to the restroom, doing your best to pretend you were in pain, as if it were the worst pain you were feeling at the moment. You stayed in the restroom for a good few minutes, hoping and praying that he would come after you.
As you leaned on a stall in the restroom, you didn't hear the door opening, because you were fixated on looking at your cell phone, waiting for a message from him.To your surprise, you only felt strong arms pulling you into the stall, locking you and the person inside.
You were about to scream because you thought it was a stranger, but as soon as you saw those brown eyes you loved so much, all that appeared on your face was a smile.
“You scared me...” You whispered, your voice without any bite or malicious tone, probably all that was in your tone was affection.
He scoffed, looking you up and down, “Apparently your foot is better now.”
You bit your lip, trying to contain the mischievous smile that threatened to appear on your lips.
Even though he treated you like an asshole, you could still feel his love for you in his gaze.
And, oh God, seeing you smile like that made his heart beat faster.When you moved, he looked down and saw that you were back in your high heels, making him frown.
It wasn't long before he put two and two together.
“Little minx.” He mutters, narrowing his eyes at you.
“I think it's sore...” You say, trying to keep up the act that your foot really was hurt. Did you really think you could make a fool of him?
By this point Simon should be used to your antics, or maybe he was playing dumb as an excuse to see you. In any case, he knelt down in front of you, picked up your foot and examined it.
His calloused hands gave you goose bumps, and it didn't get any better when he gently removed your shoe to get a better look at your heel.
And to confirm his suspicion, there was no swelling, it was just you pretending to be hurt.He wrinkled his eyebrows, looking at you, and just when you thought he was going to complain to you, the softest of smiles appeared on his lips, along with a shake of his head.
“Bloody pest...” He said under his breath, his tone betraying the lightness his voice carried, without any bite.
“Ah...Well...I guess I was wrong...” You say back, your voice as weak as that of a child who's just been caught up in something stupid.
Silence fell around you both, the only sound being your breathing in that cramped space.
“Are you all right?” You ask softly, looking at him with nothing but tenderness.It was hard to keep your composure when he was this close, making you sure you were far from getting over him.
And he wasn't too different from you, since it was hard not to remember everything he'd been through with you, all the sweet memories you'd both built up.
“Going.” He murmurs, letting instinct take him as he gently tucks a lock of your hair behind your ear, taking a moment to look at you.
To really look at you.
“I wanted to talk to you...” You begin, seeing his expression change to a stoic one as soon as you've uttered the phrase.
You knew it wouldn't be easy to have this conversation with him. Simon knew how to hide his feelings very well when he wanted to.
“We've talked before... There's no need for that now.” His voice was now more serious, harsh.
“No. You talked! I didn't have a chance to respond!” You protested, gripping his arms tightly, as if you could hold that man down if you wanted to.
He grunted, narrowing his eyes at you as he took a deep breath. He wasn't ready to see you sad again, he couldn't take it this time.Simon was definitely a softie when he was with you.
You had him wrapped around your finger.
"Did I... did I do something?” You asked, your voice shaking from the nervousness you were beginning to feel.
He denied it with his head, not elaborating much on his answer.
“What was it then? Was it something that happened? Or... Or is there someone else?” You ask once again, your voice low and small in the face of the possibilities.
What if he had someone else? What if he broke up with you because of this other person?
Simon almost laughed at the absurdity of your question, he couldn't even think of anyone else, after you, there was no one else. No one.
“Nothing like that.” He retorted, looking at you with a certain estrangement. It wasn't possible that you were thinking so lowly of him.Not that he'd given you the best impression in the world recently.
You even asked him other questions, which honestly fell on deaf ears, as he could only watch the way your lips moved, your gloss gleaming in the dim light of the restroom. You were just as perfect as he remembered, if not more so.
No one was ironclad, and he was no different, so he silenced your chatter by bringing his face close to yours, his nose touching yours, his forehead to yours.
“I... Can you kiss me?” You whisper, giving him the best pleading eyes you can manage.
And fuck, looking at your sly little face, your pouty lips, he can't say no.
He couldn't deny you in a million years.Hearing you say please, in such a sweet voice, was enough to get his blood pumping.
When you felt his lips on yours, it was like a little taste of heaven. As soon as his lips moved against yours, it was as if a lever had turned on the two of you, and something gentle and innocent turned into a hot, languid kiss.His hands soon found their way to your hips, pulling you to him as he deepened the kiss even more.
His tongue almost invaded your mouth, roughly exploring every corner inside your mouth. You knew Simon, when he wanted it, he got it. Just as he could be the kindest man in the world to you, he could also be the devil on earth if he wanted to.
When his lips parted from yours, almost painfully, Simon felt a warmth run through his body as he looked at you.
Lips swollen from the kiss, face reddened, your mouth hanging open as you looked on with the slyest eyes you could muster.
Simon knew full well that he should leave, his mind screaming one thing and his heart another, it would be better if he cut off all contact, but he couldn't force himself to do it.
So since he was going to stay, he decided to make a decision. He turned you around, making your back face him.He pushed you against the door, gluing his body to yours, leaving no space between you.
It was better if he didn't see your face while he was taking you, because if he did, he wouldn't be so sure not to take you home.
Of not picking you up and hugging you while the two of you snuggled in his bed, under his covers. In his house. If he really saw your expressions at that moment, all the strength he had would go down the drain.
You felt your body shiver when he started kissing your neck, his warm breath hitting your sensitive skin.
The feel of his tongue on your skin, the way he nibbled and licked your neck, everything he did was enough to make your knees buckle.
“You smell so good...” He purrs, pressing his nose into the crease of your neck, taking a deep inhale.
“Fucking good...” He adds, his voice gradually getting huskier, making your body hair rise at the sensation of the vibration of his voice on your skin.
He simply loved your smell, it was something uniquely yours, he couldn't find it anywhere else. It made him feel at home, feel alive. It drove him crazy.
By now he was hard, feeling his cock throbbing inside his pants, almost begging Simon to get him out of the confines of his clothes.
And well, he was sure you were already wet by then, he could feel your wet panties brushing against him, not that that little dress did much to hide you, especially when you were leaning over like that.
“Did you miss me?” he asked in a purr, making you roll your eyes at his husky voice in your ear.
" A lot... A lot...” You murmured breathlessly, not caring that you looked like a bitch in heat for him.You heard him chuckle behind you, one of his hands going down to your mound, cupping it in his hand.His other hand went to your breast, feeling your hard nipple against the thin fabric of your dress.
“Lower your dress for me, sweet thing...” He murmured, tugging at the straps of your dress, encouraging you to expose yourself to him.
And you did, pulling your dress down to your waist, then letting it fall to your heels.Behind you, he took a deep breath and stepped back, looking at your naked body, covered only by your panties.
No bra, the sight that made him growl, literally. His hands were quick to go to your breasts, taking them in his hands, squeezing and playing with your nipples.
“Nice tits, eh? You wanted to show off for me? Walking around without a bra like that?” He asked, giving your breasts a firm squeeze that made you moan, feeling pain and pleasure at the same time, just the right amount.
“For you... Just for you...” You said under your breath, your hands hovering over his.
Before you could think of anything to say, he leaned into you, holding you tightly and preventing any way you could come up with to get away from him, not that you were even thinking of doing that.
“Pretty little thing...” He grunted, pressing his erection into the middle of your ass, rubbing against you hard, as if he were some animal in heat, out of control, feral. He kissed your jaw, open-mouthed, his breath on your face, his face so close to yours.
You could already feel your mind fogging up, unable to form anything coherent.
He was so focused on it, he didn't even see that you were wetting his jeans, soaking wet, already making a mess of his pants.
“Fucking hell....” He almost hissed behind you, before you could protest he lowered two fingers to your wet surface, teasing you.In a matter of seconds you had two thick fingers hovering over your entrance.
Simon was such a bastard that he knew what you wanted, so he began to tease you slowly, just putting his fingertips into your entrance, only to withdraw them later.
“Si-” you whimper, turning your head a little to look at him in a sly way.And well done, those little eyes sent a wave of warmth straight to his cock.
With your little moan you managed to get him to start massaging your clit in circles, your pussy getting even wetter.
The next thing you felt were his lips trailing down your back, leaving hot, wet kisses, completely sloppy. His hot, uneven breathing on your skin was enough to make your pussy clench into nothing, you wouldn't doubt that you could cum for him for so little.
“You're so beautiful....So beautiful...” He whispered, leaving a trail of hot kisses all over your back, going down and down, leaving a trail of goosebumps everywhere his lips touched.
He was aching, hard as a rock, but he was damned if he wasn't going to taste you before he did anything else.
From kiss to kiss he made his way to your pussy, kneeling behind you as he stared at your glistening hole.
Your legs trembled as he gave your cunt a lingering kiss, the direct contact of his lips with your bottom lips was enough to make your knees shake.The feeling increased even more when he put his tongue on your clit, caressing the sensitive little bud with his wet muscle.
You arched your hips, whimpering as he began to eat you out, in a way that only he knew how to do, not least because he knew every one of your weak points. He was too observant for that.
He took this as an incentive to continue, he began to lap you up like an animal, an animal that hadn't been dined for months.His hands spread your ass cheeks, opening you up in an obscene way, not that you minded. You were in heaven with his every lick, your cunt clenching around his tongue, your mind going a mile a minute as he pleasured you.
With every stroke he grunted behind you, the sounds coming from the back of his throat vibrating in your folds every time he produced them.Simon was a messy eater, your juices glistening on his chin as he fucked you, he kissed, sucked, licked, his mouth worked untold wonders on you.
He knew well enough when you were close, your tight pussy clenching and you whimpering even more, the sweet little moans that were better than anything he'd ever heard.
When you arched your hips once more, his nose going even deeper into your folds, his tongue darting in and out of your cunt, fucking you deliciously.
“Mh-T-Too close.” You stutter, feeling your legs begin to tremble at the sensation of your approaching orgasm.
“Cum.” He murmurs against your flesh, giving your pussy a long lick, only to start lapping at it again.And you obeyed like a puppy, squirting your juices into his mouth without any shame.
And he, even more shamelessly, swallowed it all, without spilling a drop. He literally licked you clean, keeping you nice and open to lick up everything you had to offer.His slurping sounds echoed in your ears, making you wet once again, as if you were a fucking well full of water, always leaking.
“Nice and clean.” Simon murmured, leaning back a little to see the work he'd done, his lips were all wet with your juices, but for him it was a more than delicious sensation.
Well, yeah, you were clean, just for him to get you dirty one more time. His to mess up.
Behind you, the sound of him undoing his pants echoed in the bathroom, making you shiver in anticipation. In fact, you hadn't even been able to stop your legs from shaking after your orgasm.
The soft 'thump' of his belt made you turn your body back a little, watching him undress.He smiled in a cheeky way, not at all ashamed to show off his big, muscular body.
The bastard was cocky enough to know that he had you salivating.And it was no lie.You got all hot and bothered when his jeans fell down, along with his boxers. It was quite a sight. His defined, muscular thighs, and they were so fucking thick.
Not to mention the sign of his cock, all hard and aroused, already leaking pre-cum. It had a pink tip, it was big, large and veiny. Sometimes you wondered how you could handle it.Simon was a big man in every way.
“Don't make me wait...” You whispered, feeling your cunt tighten just looking at him.
If it were any other man, you'd be disgusted at the sight of a full bush, but with Simon you'd get so wet, just remembering the friction you felt when he rubbed against you.
“Don't worry your pretty little head.” He said, patting your pussy, turning you forward once more.Behind you, you could feel the movements of his hand, the strokes he gave his own member, slowly and lazily, all he wanted to do was sink into you.
After a few strokes, he placed the tip of his cock at your entrance, rubbing against you. His pre-cum mixed with your fluids, making a delicious mess that he loved so much.
“Gonna put in, yeah?” he said softly, wrapping an arm around you, his hand gripping your throat and forcing you backwards.His hand was so big it could cover your entire throat, his fingers lifting your chin and forcing your gaze to his, making you even wetter somehow.
His other hand held his hard length in his hands, gently but surely guiding it into you, the tip of it entering you and stretching you, the delicious stretching you did to accommodate him.He pushed in as far as he could, as deep as he could until he was buried deep inside you.
Once he was all the way inside you, he stopped, giving you time to get used to his size as he always did.But today, you don't know what the hell came over you, you couldn't wait, your body and mind begging and pleading for him to move.
“Si....Please?Please...” You beg like a slut with no self-respect, acting exactly like one.
Fuck. To hell with everything.
When he heard you begging so nicely like that, how could he be capable of saying no?His answer was a sharp thrust, drawing out the sweetest of moans, making your eyes roll into the back of your head as he hit all your sweet spots at once.
“Tight as fuck, never changes.” He growls, using the hand that was previously holding his cock to curl around your hips.
Soon you had his fingers on your clit, making small circles, just the right size for you to see stars every time he thrust and massaged you all at once.Your already jumbled mind couldn't think of anything else, all you knew was that your pussy was being deliciously filled, in a way that only he knew how to do. No one else.
Your mouth was hanging open, letting out the most filthy moans, your arms holding on to the wall of the stall, trying to keep yourself upright as he pounded into you, hard.His balls slamming into you was such a dirty, impure sound.
You didn't even want to think what anyone would think if they heard what was happening in that stall.His cock slipped in and out of you, several times Simon took his entire length out of you, just to shove it in all at once. To have the opportunity to see your pussy swallow his cock in one go.
“You're going to get my cock wet, yeah? Are you going to be a good girl and do that?” He asks in your ear, rubbing his nose against your ear.
You tightened around him, letting out another whimper. He gave you a little grin, pulling your hair with his hand, and as soon as he was face to face with you, he kissed you hard.It was a hot kiss, with everything involved, Simon was a completely different man when he was aroused, and he showed it very well.
With the searing kiss, you felt the familiar excitement building in the pit of your stomach. Simon didn't feel much different, at least not with the sensation of your walls nestling him, keeping him comfortable and warm.
It wouldn't take him long to fill you, but you came first.Then his hand slid down to your clit, not leaving you quiet for a second, massaging hard on your swollen bud, making you go to heaven and hell at the same time.
Your gasps were swallowed up by his mouth, his tongue invading your mouth as he slammed into you. His rhythm was brutal, he moved back and forth with no mercy for you, the sloppy thrusts leaving you without a ground.
His fingers on your clit, the hot fucking kisses he was giving you right now, the way he was fucking you, all of it was leading you down one path. And you couldn't help it, there you were, cumming for him once again.You creamed on his cock, wetting his length as you moaned his name like a prayer.
“Good girl.” He purred into your lips, biting back a moan of his own as you tightened around him.
He followed right behind, cumming inside you without any warning, spurting his seed inside you, filling you up.Your legs went wobbly and you almost lost your balance, but he was quick to hold you up, giving you all the support you needed.
“You did good, sweet girl... So good.” He whispers tenderly, kissing you all over your face.
It was so domestic, him whispering and reassuring you softly, saying sweet nothings to you. It would be cute if you didn't have your cunt dripping with his cum, making his eyes darken every time he looked down.
The minutes seemed to pass slowly as the two of you stood like that, holding each other, relaxing as the high subsided.
And you held back so as not to say anything you'd regret later, and he bit his lip so as not to let out a simple, but true 'I love you'.But nothing lasts forever, and you knew you were going to have to leave.
He didn't want to be a jerk, and he wasn't going to leave you alone after having sex with you. That would be completely stupid. But it caused Simon to change from water to wine.
So he helped you clean up and put your clothes back on, waiting for you to say goodbye to your friends so he could take you home. At this point it was every person for themselves, Simon was clearly trying to keep his distance, and he was succeeding.However much it hurt.
The ride to your apartment was silent, nothing but the sound of his motorcycle going back and forth in the city, it was boring, but at least he was with you.
He was even a gentleman, taking you to the door of your apartment, hoping that you were inside, safe and sound. As you should have been.
“Aren't you coming in?” You ask quietly, looking at him almost shyly.
There was no pride in you that was greater than the desire to spend a night with him. Hugging each other, holding each other as if it were the last time.
He looked at you, those dead eyes that carried so many emotions at that moment. But he wasn't going to weaken, not now, no matter how much his heart begged him to accept the offer.
“I just came to bring you home.” He repeated, his fingers itching to caress your cheeks, cup your face and shower you with kisses.But he couldn't.
And that hurt more than any bullet.
He doesn't give you a chance to say anything, he just walks away and takes one last look at you over his shoulder.In the blink of an eye he was already in the elevator, leaving once again.
After that you knew for sure that Simon was an incognito, but something was wrong. He wouldn't act like that, it wasn't like him.
Maybe he'd really had enough of you, and you're too proud to admit defeat. But if he's got something, you'll find out.Even if it means pestering his work colleagues.
But really, not that Simon has noticed, but you're sure he wouldn't do much without his wallet for long.
Oh, and you kind of took it as an excuse to have something to see him.
He'd probably be on your doorstep the next day.
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chlmtsdoll · 6 months ago
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SHOPPING WITH ART
౨ৎ Summary: it’s in the title ! Ballerina!reader x Art on a shopping date 🤍
౨ৎ Word count: 2k
౨ৎ Warnings: sugar baby! reader, mentions & talk of sex (duh !), semi public sexual acts, age gap (reader early 20’s) dilf age Art, fluff, needy reader, horny Art, mentions of Tashi in between, mutual pinning, petite!reader (sorry tall ppl), reader and Art are all over each other constantly
A/N: don’t know if I should classify this as a blurb or a fic but I’m gonna go with blurb since it’s short and sweet !!
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“Dogs ?”
You had scrunched up your nose and shook your head terribly at Arts attempts to guess your favorite animal. He tilted his head as he looked down at you with a grin.
“Cats ?” He probed. You nodded pleased, with a giggle.
“Do I strike you as a dog person at all ?”
“No.” Art had laughed out and it sounded of wealth and pure adoration of you.
You two had been walking down Rodeo Drive in the mist of perfect weather on a bright day, Art had offered to take you shopping while Tashi took care of tennis business for the two of you. She requested some space and quietness for an hour or two — so of course you’d never pass up your expectation of basically trying on dresses for Art Donaldson as a living.
It still hadn’t hit you on the full one-eighty your life has taken from going from a lost ballerina to Art and Tashi’s young, beautiful, tennis protégé.
Or shared girlfriend. Whatever you had been.
You loved it. Especially days like this, you’d spend as much time as you could with Art when he wasn’t touring because he made you feel like it had only been the two of you on earth when you were together. You never stopped laughing, blushing, kissing… and a spawn of other things.
But when he’d been actually playing tennis, or doing things for his career like press or photoshoots. You missed him dearly. Even when he’d spend time with his daughter Lily.
It made your mood dim, and you’d find yourself dissociating from conversations or tennis to think about him or ponder when he’d be back to steal you away again. Tashi always caught you in the drift of it, but you’d snap right back to reality when you’d hear her say. “Okay. Art’s gonna take you out.” Your mood and demeanor would shift entirely.
“I feel like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman.”
“Isn’t that movie controversial ?” Art questioned.
“Aren’t you much older than me ?” You replied as you glanced up at him, giving him every glitter of your wide Bambi eyes. He chucked.
“Oh. So should I walk on the other side of the sidewalk.. if that’s too much for you ?” He looked down at you as he moved from where you walked to the other side of the not so spacious side walk to prove his sarcasm.
“No!” You pleaded with a girlish laugh as you followed him anyways, bumping your shoulder into his arm on purpose not to be separated for another second.
You’d want to hold his hand so badly when you two would be out together, but with his public image being Tashi Duncan’s star husband, it wasn’t exactly the best decision when it came to the press — so even with as much as he wanted to, Tashi always told him to lay low when it came to physical contact with you in the open. Especially somewhere as public as Beverly Hills.
You’d never known where paparazzi had been hiding, lurking and waiting. And it wouldn’t be so easy for them to try and idealize it as Art Donaldson and his exceptionally younger “friend” that he takes shopping and on dates.
Tashi couldn’t control when you had been at home and essentially couldn’t keep your hands off each other entirely. Always hugging, cuddling, fucking. It didn’t matter. You were on him or vise versa, but when you’d go out Tashi would specifically insist “don’t touch each other.” before you’d leave.
But hiding didn’t transpire to you so much when you just completely couldn’t help yourself when it came to the man that made your heart flutter, you’d fought the limitations anyways.
Walking side by side you brushed your pinky against Arts much bigger hand. You saw him look down and a soft grin took upon his lips at the sight of your manicured pink tips grabbing at his hand. He could never resist you. locking pinky’s with yours, your smile had turned bashful but pleased as you’d walk together. Just praying no paps had caught the moment and you’d have to go through Tashi’s wrath later on.
It was dress after dress you’d pick off of the rack, skirts, tops, and more shoes than you’d ever seen at once in person. But you absolutely adored this. Trying not to make another painfully high pitched sound when you’d find another pair that made your eyes go wide in awe.
Art was right there behind you as he chuckled at all of your darling reactions, finding it utterly too cute. You were like a doll and he’d spoil you till you’d probably pass out from exhaustion the moment you both got home from all the perks of shopping till you dropped. Literally.
“I don’t know. I love the waistline, but a deep v neck ? I just don’t see it.” You stepped out of the dressing rooms to where Art had been lounging on a chair since he wasn’t allowed in the actual dressing room area.
Art couldn’t say he didn’t know a thing or two when it came to a sense in fashion. Tennis was a sport based around the most expensive and luxury brands displaying their most fashionable and articulately put together pieces on star athletes like himself. But mainly living with the total of four ladies including the maid, had done his knowledge of the craft wonders.
“I think you look amazing in it, baby.” He implied, crystal blues tracing your perfect body cinched into the tight dress.
It made your breast sit in such a way that Art had to adjust the way he sat in his seat. You looked at yourself in the mirror while your hand ran down your curves. Your heels made you stand taller and your legs showcased eloquently.
One of the workers brought you a glass of champagne and you thanked her kindly before taking a sip, then turning to Art with a suggestive unsure look on your face.
“But do I look amazing though ?” You asked puzzled, with mostly sarcasm and art had shook his head, he chuckled as you glided back into the dressing rooms.
He even brought you things to try on as he just couldn’t pull back from his own suggestions of what he thought you looked to die for in.
“Art,” You turned to him opening up the curtain of the small space as you’d been in the mist of changing, just in your bra and panties.
“Put this on.” He passed you a dress and you were taken back by his desperation and need to see you in his choice of clothing. You stood and took it from him, but you couldn’t deny the slight pass of dominance from him turned you on a bit. You smiled at the curtain when he closed it quickly to leave so he wouldn’t get caught.
When you came out in what he had gave you, Art unfolded his leg and sat straighter in his chair as he examined the sight. And was it a sight to see.
The dress was white, a sixties kind of cut as it made your waist look otherworldly. The corset top made your torso extend and it was short enough that if you moved a little too much it would have been quite a show.
“So, what do you think of your outfit choice on me, Mr. Donaldson ?” You asked with your hands on your hips and the look on his face as his eyes graced over you had you blushing terribly.
Art had to take in a breath with an embarrassing place being lost for words, he stood up to walk towards you. His hand touched the delicate straps.
“Turn around.” he instructed.
“Okay. Bossy.” You joked, meanwhile he bit his lip to hold back nearly letting out an audible noise as he took in the way it cupped your ass just right. You were perfection in his eyes, all dolled up just for him. He licked his lips,
“You’re gorgeous, angel. Do you like it ? Because I love it, and I think you need it in your wardrobe. Well, not need, but it would be a nice touch.” He went on and you laughed at his high regard, your face heating up quite quickly now.
“I think it’s really pretty.” Your hand ran across the top that was embroidered with jewels, your smile enchanting as Art watched you.“next one coming up.”
You had walked by to go change again, but as you did you felt a smack on your ass and you turned around quickly to see Art grinning to himself when you gasped.
The responsible side of you would of protested as you remembered Tashi’s words, but you were anything but responsible when it came to your favorite blonde. You shook your head as your sly smile matched his and you went back into your dressing room.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t that long before Art had snuck in again and opened up the curtain, this time inserting himself into the room with you.
“Art!” You could hardly stop him before he had moved your hair out of the way and started attacking your neck with kisses, sucking in your sent as hands ran over your body,
“Fuck, you look good.” He breathed out as he kissed you and you’d fallen weak to his trap. Hands running to grab his hair as he groped your tits through the dress and kissed you sloppily. He towered over your dainty figure as he treated your body like clay for him to mold, you let out a whine from the back of your throat as he ran his tongue over yours.
His hands were flighting to unzip your dress while hiking it up your hips at the same time.
“Careful, it’s not mine,” you breathed out as Art peppered kisses anywhere he could.
“Oh, it will be yours. I’m buying it as soon as I’m done with you.” his tone was low and full of arousal as he pushed your front against the wall of the dressing room.
As much as you wanted him to fuck you right there, feel every inch of his need to have you take his cock while he treated you to an entire wardrobe that any girl your age would die for, was enough to make you shed your panties right then. But you had slipped from under his grasp.
“We can’t, we’re in public.” You uttered and Art had backed away from you with a groan as he ran his hands down his face and you grinned at the state you had gotten him in, uncomfortably hard and dick nearly ready to come through his fly at just the sight of you.
“Fine,” he sighed out and got ahold of himself before leaving again, you tried not to give him a mischievous smirk as you adjusted yourself and the dress. “Don’t think I don’t know how much you want it, you little minx, be ready for later because we’re not done here.”
You batted your eyelashes and acted all innocent as he shut the curtain and then you giggled to yourself. You had all the shoes and dresses you wanted ready by the time you exited again, and now with lips shimmering with gloss, you made eye contact with Art as he paid for all your new attire with pleasure. Licking his own lips every time he scanned over you, he carried all of your bags and he walked out with you happily.
Completely forgetting about the paparazzi, Art took your hand in his with ease. leading you down the walkway and you had bitten your lip under a satisfied little smile.
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A/N: ugh ! I need that !
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skufdaddyswansea · 3 months ago
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Mouthwashing, Dual Protagonists, and Captain Curly
While the vast majority of Mouthwashing is shown from Jimmy's perspective, the events leading up to the Tulpar's crash usually follow Curly. There are several interesting reasons for this, but there's one reason in particular that I'd like to focus on.
By setting Jimmy and Curly up as dual protagonists, we're invited to draw comparisons between them. Not only are they the lenses through which we view the story, they pass the role of Captain back and forth between their chapters.
It's easy to feel sympathy for Curly, given the state he spends the larger part of the game in. It can also be easy to gloss over his more subtle shortcomings when measuring him up against Jimmy.
In this post, I want to take a closer look at Curly's character. And more specifically, how he relates to one of the game's most obvious themes.
Is Curly able to deal with the consequences of his actions? Does he realize his own failures and how they harm the people around him? What does he do with the power he's granted over others?
Does Curly take responsibility?
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Jimmy's fixation here gives us a good jumping-off point. It's certainly possible that he's only really been told this once or twice, but because he's Jimmy he's blown it out of proportion out of spite. It's also possible he's entirely making it up because he's projecting, but I think the former is more likely if anything.
And, if I had to take a guess where he heard it from, I'd put my money on The Pony Express itself.
In the eyes of The Pony Express, a "great leader" isn't someone diligent or able to meet the needs of his crew. The real reason Curly was able to rise to the top of the ladder and become captain is because he gets the job done without rocking the boat.
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I'm establishing all this because I think it's worth examining by what metric he's being judged. Because, while it may be Jimmy who most often digs this point up, Curly doesn't disagree with him. Even in the depths of his ennui, it's important to him that not only is he the Captain, but a good one at that.
When comparing the two, that can again seem difficult to argue against. Jimmy is quick to lash out and shift blame. His resentment and insecurities often drive him to pick fights. Curly prefers to avoid conflict, but knows his position doesn't always allow him to do so. He tries to pick his battles, but when he has to get involved he focuses on de-escalating the situation.
But although their similarities are few, they do exist. And they greatly influence the narrative. Because it is from their shared selfishness, callousness, and cowardice that the entire story is born.
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It's time to address the elephant in the room. We can't draw any conclusions about Curly's nature, his character, his role in the story, and his relationship to its themes without digging into his handling of Anya's assault, and the chain of events that follow.
I find it interesting that we never see the initial conversation Anya has with Curly about the assault. We simply know that she confided in him. He is the Captain, after all. The crew is his responsibility.
The thing is, we don't really need to know the exact conversation they shared, because we can imagine it went quite similarly to their conversation about her pregnancy.
She tells him how scared she is. She fears for her life. It never even occurred to him that she was upset about anything other than losing her job. He swears to her that everything will be fine. They'll fix this. All he has to do is talk to Jimmy.
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He does not talk to Jimmy.
Maybe the first time he really did intend to. He just needed time. Jimmy has always had... struggles. If we want to, we can be generous to Curly, we can assume his old problems were much less vile. Otherwise, he would have never pulled the strings to get him this job, never put him in a position of power over vulnerable people. Right? But now, this was whole new beast altogether. Because he and Jimmy go way back, he had to process this, figure out what he was even supposed to say.
But at the same time, The Pony Express had just gone gone under. He'd been struggling with dissatisfaction and indecision for so long, and now his hand has been forced. He has his own problems. And Anya seems fine, doesn't she? If she hadn't said anything, he'd never have even known there was anything wrong. It just doesn't seem that important.
Anya talks to Jimmy herself.
She's scared, she fears for her life. But now she knows now that Curly won't defend her, nor give her the means to defend herself. Still, he promises her, they'll fix this. He just has to talk to Jimmy.
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Things are different now. He can't sit by and wait for things to work out anymore. After all, it's not only her problem anymore.
Now it's Curly's problem too. How is he supposed to find another job with this on his record? There's only one other person on this ship who understands what he's going through.
He talks to Jimmy.
And he understands. Not that what he did was wrong, of course. Not that he'd done something horrific, irreversible, cruel. But that it now had consequences, and that he wouldn't suffer them alone.
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Curly made his decision. He chose his paper-thin illusion of peace and his eroding friendship with Jimmy over the safety and well-being of his crew. And when it all came tumbling down, he decided it was better to bury them all under the rubble than to face the struggle to rebuild.
If Jimmy hadn't been there, hadn't been his co-pilot, Curly almost certainly would not have been able to bring himself to actually follow through with something so selfish and reckless.
But Jimmy was there, and Curly made sure of that.
So, it's time to ask again. Does Curly take responsibility?
Well, yes.
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But it's too little, too late.
As much as Mouthwashing is about Jimmy fighting furiously against the consequences of his actions, it is also about Curly being forced to watch them unfold anyway. His silence and inaction, once a choice, are inflicted upon him by his mangled body.
Jimmy may have crashed the ship, but Curly gave him the keys. And so it's fitting in the end that Curly is made to take the full weight of responsibility by the man who he helped avoid it so many times.
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hazbinwhoree · 11 months ago
Note
BRO?$!&?& OAAA I SAW YOU WERE OPEN TO ADAM REQUESTS AND OHHH. MY SNAP.
i am in desperate need. of adam smut.
NOW, WOULD IT BE OKAY FOR ME TO ASK FOR ADAM SMUT WITH A SUBMISSIVE FEMALE SINNER READER WHO IS:
usually shy nervous as fuck but absolutely watches him when he thinks he isn't looking
likes to compliment him in general (at the most random times too, despite the dickmaster being the FUCKING WORST, and she would get that but he IS kinda fine so)
touch-starved, incredibly easy to fluster and tease (bro has a thing for his voices and looks too, one word or look and she'd be on her knees)
pretty insecure in general (and is a sucker for being praised in bed)
I'd also specifically like to hear what he would say to the reader ESPECIALLY THAT IDFK AAA GO CRAZY
Adam’s Sinner
Part 1/3 Part 2
A/N: I was so fucking happy to get a request you don’t even understand. Anyway here it is, I hope I did it justice and you enjoy it!
Warnings: Smut
Adam had been aware of (Name) for about ten years. They met during the extermination, Adam cornering her in an alley. Something compelled him to spare her, and yes he realized what a hypocrite that made him. Poor Vaggie. “Fucking run, bitch.” She bolted. Adam looked around to make sure no one had seen.
The next year, Adam noticed (Name) watching him, hiding behind corners and in shadows. She did this during every extermination for about five years before Adam decided during one extermination to confront her.
(Name) peered around the corner of the dark alley she was hiding in, watching Adam kill a fellow sinner. It should disgust her, but ever since he spared her life she had a strange sort of attraction towards him. Adam looked up and (Name) ducked back behind the wall. When she peered out again, Adam was nowhere to be seen.
“What’s up, sugar tits?”
(Name) yelped, jumping when Adam appeared behind her. He put his hands on the wall on either side of her head, effectively caging her in. (Name) could feel her face heating up. Adam seemed to find it amusing. “Flustered?” (Name) swallowed.
“You know I’ve seen you watching me for the last few exterminations. What’s up with that, hm?”
(Name) had no answer.
“What’s your name?” Adam asked.
“(Name),” she answered quietly. Adam had to bend down to hear her. His proximity made her blush worse, and he snickered. “I think I figured out why. No surprise really, of course you’d want a piece of the first man in existence. I’m the fucking Dickmaster.”
He let her go shortly after their exchange, but confronted her again the next year. As years passed, Adam would spare thirty minutes every extermination to talk to (Name). He found himself becoming fond of the sinner. Her story of how she ended up in hell was interesting, and it definitely helped that she stroked his ego with compliments.
Adam found himself looking forward to seeing (Name) even more than he looked forward to the exterminations. He was grateful Lute hadn’t caught on.
A few years later, and Adam noticed (Name) wasn’t following him as she normally would. So he sought her out. She’d told him a few years ago where she lived, so that was the first place Adam checked. Sure enough, he found her there.
“Sup.”
(Name) jumped. “Adam!”
“What the fuck, babe, not interested in seeing me this year?” Adam placed his hand over his heart in mock hurt, although while he’d never admit it, it actually did hurt him.
“We can’t see each other anymore,” (Name) announced, looking away.
“Bitch why?”
“Because one of these days we’re going to get caught. I know what happened to Vaggie. What would happen if the exterminators found out their leader was socializing with a sinner?”
“You’re not like the other sinners,” Adam argued. “I’d show them that.”
“How?”
Adam was quiet.
“Exactly. And to be honest, I can’t take the emotional torture anymore.”
“The fuck are you on about, ‘emotional torture’? Come on babe-”
“Adam no. I can’t let myself get any closer to you. We only see each other once a year and I got attached, and dealing with only seeing you once a year has gotten too painful.”
Adam was rather taken aback by the confession. He felt the same way but had been gaslighting himself to believe he didn’t. For once in his life, Adam couldn’t find anything to say. He decided the best course was the course of action rather than talking.
He leaned down and abruptly pressed his lips to (Name)’s. Her eyes widened and her body stiffened. When Adam received no response on her end, he pulled back, worried he’d fucked up. She stared up at him with this look on her face that Adam couldn’t place. He didn’t know if it was positive or negative.
“Again,” she finally spoke in a small voice. A smirk stretched across Adam’s face, and he bent down once more to press his lips to hers. She kissed him back this time, almost desperately, and Adam’s arms wrapped around her waist. She shuddered and he pulled back.
“Are you okay?” No teasing or cursing.
“Yeah I just… I haven’t had anyone touch me like this in a long time.”
Adam couldn’t say the same, but this was the first time in a long time emotions had been involved. He kissed her again and snuck his tongue into her mouth as she kissed back. “I want to fuck you,” Adam mumbled against her lips. “Okay.”
Adam pushed her down on her bed, crawling on top of her. He reconnected their lips and slid a hand under her shirt. “Damn,” he commented when his wandering hand reached her chest. “Nice rack.” (Name) rolled her eyes. Adam began kissing down her neck, sucking and biting to leave his mark. (Name) moaned and grabbed onto his horns.
Adam pulled back to shed his robe, and (Name) yanked her shirt over her head. Now that Adam actually had eyes on her chest, he stared for a moment. “So pretty~” he cooed. (Name) blushed and swallowed.
“Oh~” Adam realized. “You like that, don’t you? You like being praised?”
(Name) looked away. Adam grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at him. “Don’t be embarrassed, babe, it’s cute.” He returned to her neck, kissing down and down, her shoulder, her collarbone. Then he slid down slightly to press his face between her breasts. He laid more kisses on her chest before taking a nipple into his mouth.
Sensitive, (Name) arched her back and whimpered. “I like that noise,” Adam said, moving to the other breast. “Make it again.” He sucked and she whimpered.
Adam was aware he had a short window of time to make this work, so he pulled back and pulled down (Name)’s pants and panties in one swift motion. (Name) got embarrassed being so exposed, so Adam quickly shed his own pants and boxers to level the playing field.
He noticed (Name) staring at his dick and smirked. He took it in his hand, pumping it a few times for show. “You like what you see, baby? Of course you do. Can’t beat the original dick.”
He crawled on top of her again, nudging her thighs apart with his knee to settle between them. He reconnected their lips while his hand traveled down to the place she wanted it the most. “So wet for me, good girl,” Adam teased. Flustered, (Name) shut him up with another kiss.
They made out while Adam experimentally slid one slender finger into her. Met with no resistance, he added another one, and began languidly pumping them in and out. (Name) was shaking. Eager to hurry this along, Adam added another finger. Three stretched her out and she moaned against his lips at the sensation. It made Adam’s dick throb.
He fingered her, with his thumb circling her clit, until he decided she was well enough prepared, pulling his hand away. (Name) whined at the loss but was quickly shut up by Adam grabbing her legs and throwing them over his shoulders. She gasped. Adam lined himself up with her entrance and sunk in slowly, giving her time to adjust. She squirmed, his girth proving to be a little painful to take.
Adam reached between them to give her clit attention, and that loosened her up right away. He bottomed out with a groan, closing his eyes. “Fuck, babe, you’re so tight.” Adam kissed her again, basically bending her in half as he began thrusting. He swallowed her whimpers and moans while his pace picked up in speed and intensity.
He had tried to be slow and gentle, he really had.
Adam set a brutal pace, and (Name) clawed at his back as he pounded into her. “Fuck, yeah, you’re so good for me, tits. Such a good girl, all mine,” Adam talked as he fucked her, and his every word brought (Name) closer to the edge. “You feel so fucking good.”
Adam’s thrusts were getting sloppy as he neared his own climax. “Cum for me,” he murmured. “Fucking cum for me, baby.” (Name) did, her back arching off the bed, her head thrown back and mouth open in slack pleasure. Her tightening around him pushed Adam over the edge, and he buried himself as deep as he could, cumming inside her.
They both panted, holding onto one another as they came down from their highs. Adam pulled out and rolled off of (Name), collapsing onto the bed next to her. He pulled her into his chest and covered her with one of his wings, nuzzling his face into her hair.
“I’ll find a way to see each other more,” he muttered. “I’ll figure something out.” (Name) buried her face in his chest. “Promise?” Her voice was muffled.
“Promise.”
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girllblogging777 · 5 months ago
Text
𝐸𝐶𝐻𝑂𝐸𝑆 𝑂𝐹 𝐵𝐸𝑇𝑅𝐴𝑌𝐴𝐿
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↳ mattheo riddle x fem!reader (angst)
↳ 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡 : 1,6k
𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦 : you find out that mattheo and you are working for different sides in the war, and using each other to get information. was your relationship ever real ?
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
“and that’s why i love them,” you giggled breathlessly after explaining what seemed to be your entire life story to the boy next to you. propped up on his elbows and looking at you with a mischievous grin, mattheo riddle had listened carefully to every word that hung from your lips for the past half hour. “i understand why those flowers are so meaningful to you now,” he declared softly, glancing at the vase of lilies on your living room table.
the two of you were lying on the floor of your tiny flat in london, a place where you’d never let anyone in before. after graduating from hogwarts a couple of years ago, you had completely shut the rest of the world away to focus on your work as a spy for the order of the phoenix. obviously, no one knew that, not even the boy next to you, with whom you had been entangled for a couple of months.
“yeah, lilies are my favorite…” you muttered, running a finger over his chiseled jaw and the scars on it that you knew all too well. both former students at the wizarding school, it was quite ironic that the two of you had never interacted during your teenage years. you had always been the confident girl who never cared much about the male species, and he most definitely liked getting attention from women, to cope with his lack of them in his emotional life.
however, your relationship with the wicked boy had changed when he saved you a couple of months ago near the diagon alley. you had been on a mission to find something specific for the order of the phoenix at borgin & burkes in the infamous and dark knockturn alley, known for its dark magic and bad reputation. just as you were about to leave, some people cornered you in the shadows and, for the first time in your life, you had been powerless.
you should’ve known better than to leave your wand in your bag and your mind elsewhere. thankfully, a dark-haired boy that you recognized as the son of voldemort had appeared like a miracle and grabbed your hand to leed you away safely. “why are you doing this? aren’t you supposed to be on their side?” you’d asked, confused to why he would help you. he had simply glared at you and answered in a whisper, “i’m not the enemy.”
a lot of things had changed between you since then. despite not knowing what he had been doing in that alley, even after the countless times you’d asked him, you were forever grateful for his presence that day. you had offered to go out for a butterbeer as payback, and what was supposed to be a one-time thing turned into regular coffee or lunches together. slowly but surely, mattheo let his guard down with you and began enjoying your company. you couldn’t say you were surprised when all your time spent together turned into more, and polite conversations turned into intimate actions.
the young riddle and you had nothing official going on. at first, you’d told yourself he’d be a simple distraction from your dangerous life and complicated missions. he wouldn’t commit and neither did you, both of you always having to “run some errands” and “visit friends from hogwarts.” you would’ve questioned his weird behavior if you were actually dating him, but since the two of you were not attached, you couldn’t blame him. after all, you too had secrets. the simple fact that mattheo riddle had known you enough to let you into his messy life was a sign that he was worthy of your trust, or so you thought.
the energy in the air was different today, as if something was off. perhaps it was because you had done something you always forbade yourself—inviting someone over to your place. “is that a cloak?” mattheo chuckled, his gaze shifting from the vase of lilies to the coat hanger. you froze when you realized what he was referring to, the large navy blue fabric that you used when going on undercover tasks hanging in front of you like a deer in the headlights. “uh yeah, i wear it sometimes when it’s cold outside,” you lied through your teeth, internally cursing yourself. merlin, that was exactly why you shouldn’t have had him over. the brunette boy didn’t quite understand your reaction and simply switched topics, curious about the expression on your face.
✩✩✩✩
whatever calmness you had felt the other day when you were with mattheo was long forgotten by now, you thought as you walked back to your apartment a week later. the first odd thing you noticed was the broken portal of the building that not only happened to be your home, but also the order’s headquarters. then, your ears perked at the sound of glass breaking and people screaming. grabbing your wand from your coat pocket, you put the hood of your navy cloak on and entered the hidden building, not without muttering a quick prayer.
nothing could’ve prepared you for what you found inside. you barely registered the documents on the floor and broken windows before going into attack mode and throwing spells at everyone around. most of the people you recognized as your allies, but it was the others that startled you. with their masks and dark attires, your biggest fear had come true: the death eaters had found you. one of them threw something at you and you dodged it by hiding under a desk. your brain was on high alert and you tried your best to fight back against the shadowy figures surrounding you.
they were everywhere. throwing spells and punches, this situation was by far the biggest and most dangerous mess you had ever witnessed in these last few months. because unlike those times, you weren’t ready. “how did they find us?” you thought, sending the death eater’s wand flying through the window. “there must’ve been a spy, but who?” you kept wondering before you were sent reeling when the guy’s fist connected to your jaw. elbowing him in the stomach as hard as you could, you managed to knock him unconscious and throw yourself behind the table when a spell whizzed past you.
you winced when the all-too-familiar metallic taste of blood filled your mouth. you could also feel the thick liquid running down your waist, mixed with the water from the broken vase of flowers on the floor. “lilies,” you registered, “my favorite.” how utterly stupid to think about this during your last moments of life. trying to reach for your wand, you looked up to find another masked man towering over you. “that’s it,” the voice in your heart whispered, “that’s how it ends.” you looked up to the person who was about to take your life, and you swore you could’ve seen him flinch. hiding behind his costume, the boy’s wand trembled when your face appeared from under the hood. the navy cloak, the lilies, that day in the diagon alley— that’s when you understood.
mattheo riddle. the man facing you, holding out his wand in order to throw the death curse at you, was no other than the boy who you’d been kissing in the same living room a week ago. you couldn’t see his face, but you swore you could recognize those deep chocolate eyes anywhere. today, gone was the soft and loving look he always saved for you. his gaze was indescribable. in this moment, you couldn’t hear the people fighting and shouting around you. it was just the pain of your heart breaking, and him standing in front of you.
“it was you,” you whispered, “i thought you weren’t like them, you said you weren’t the enemy.” mattheo’s breath came out shakily at the familiar sentence. how stupid were you to think he was different that him, than his father.
“i’m not the enemy,” he said quietly, his voice trembling, “listen, i can explain-“ but this time you couldn’t believe him. the wand in his hand was still pointed directly at you, his fingers twitching as if he were wrestling with the decision to end your life or not. you could see the conflict raging in his eyes, but you also knew that he had made his choice long ago. perhaps even before he met you.
“then why are you here?” you asked, your voice breaking despite your best efforts to stay strong. “why did you betray us?” your voice broke in the last part “why did you betray me ?”
mattheo’s jaw tightened, and for a moment, you thought he wouldn’t answer. when he finally spoke, his voice was low and filled with regret. “i didn’t have a choice,” he admitted, his eyes never leaving yours. “they would have killed you if i didn’t lead them here. they still will if i don’t—”
he couldn’t finish the sentence, the words catching in his throat. you felt your heart shatter completely, the weight of his betrayal pressing down on you like a physical force. you had trusted him. you had let him into your life, into your heart, and he had used that trust to destroy everything.
“was it ever real ?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. you stared at him, searching his eyes for any sign of the boy you thought you knew. but all you saw was desperation and fear—fear for you, yes, but also fear for himself. and that, more than anything, told you what you needed to know.
“i guess i was a fool then,” you said, your voice steady now, though your heart was in pieces. “for thinking you were better than this. than him.”
his hand trembled as you proved his worst nightmare true, and he lowered his wand slightly, the fight draining out of him. “i’m sorry,” he whispered, and you knew he meant it. but it wasn’t enough. it would never be enough.
as the fight kept on going, the echoes of spells and shouts fading behind you, all you could think about were the lilies—your favorite flowers, now trampled and wilted on the floor, a painful reminder of everything you had just lost.
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a/n : this was such a good request, please give me more !!! i also appreciate likes/comments and reblogs <3
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sleepyjuice · 7 months ago
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patience is a virtue - jj maybank
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Summary: you finally get on birth control, which means you and jj finally get to raw dog it, whoop
Warnings: 18+!!!!!!!! SMUT, p in v sex (reader is on birth control but theoretically both parties are tested and clean and exclusively sleeping with each other), little bit of praise kink, cream pie, fluff? soft jj <3
wc: 2771 wtf 🫣
A/N: so I decided to start writing again and then this happened lol. I’m probably rusty and this is my first time writing for jj so I hope it’s okay and y’all enjoy!!!<3
Jj had been counting down the days until your doctor's appointment. You were finally getting on birth control, the arm implant, to be specific. You had done your research, as well as an initial consultation with your doctor to go over all of your options and decided that the ‘one and done’ route would be the best for you.
You and jj had been together for a little over a year, using condoms every time you had sex. As much as you both liked the security of you not getting pregnant, you both wanted more, you both craved more. Not only that, but you had irregular and horribly painful periods and when your doctor mentioned that being on birth control could stop your periods, that was more than enough to convince you to take that step.
The day finally came, though, and jj insisted on driving you to your appointment, ignoring your assurance that it was a quick and easy procedure.
“jj, it’s not like I’m getting put under for a major surgery or something, it’ll probably be only like ten minutes. No medicine or anything.” You told him as you buckled your seatbelt. There was no changing his mind.
jj rolled his eyes as he started up the twinkie, already having made arrangements with john b over a week ago to let him borrow the van.
“I know, baby, but this is a big moment, wanna be there for you.” He said with a grin, pulling onto the road and starting towards your doctor’s office.
“Well, I appreciate it. I honestly think you’re more excited than I am.” You giggled, glancing over at your boyfriend as you pulled your hair up into a ponytail.
“Now what makes you say that?” He teased, knowing damn well he had this appointment marked in his phone calendar and his extra ass even drew a dick and a smiley face on your little desk calendar you had.
You had arrived shortly after, and just as you predicted, the whole appointment only took about ten minutes and was pretty painless. jj waited in the car for you to be done, smiling ecstatically at you once he saw you make your way out the office doors and towards the twinkie.
“How was it? Did it hurt?” He asked as soon as you got into the car, looking at your arm that was now wrapped in a bright pink bandage.
You shook your head, leaning across the seat to softly kiss your boyfriend, his hands finding your hair first before slowly trailing down your body to rub on your thighs as he deepened the kiss. You knew exactly what he was trying to do, so you pulled away with a laugh.
“Nope, nope, don’t even think about it. This thing doesn’t start working for seven days.” You told him, smiling innocently at him as you watched his face drop. You swore all the light in his eyes left his body for a second. He was so dramatic.
You were obviously disappointed too. It would have been nice to go straight home and have what would probably be the best sex of your life right away. But then you would have to go and buy a Plan B, and then this would all be for nothing.
“Now what the fuck? How are they gonna call this shit modern medicine but that shit doesn’t start working for a week?” jj scoffed, one of his hands still resting on your thigh while his other raised to softly graze your bandage, “like, they put a whole ass stick in your arm. What’s it even doing for these seven days? Just sitting in there doing nothing? They really need to make advancements to this shit.” he rambled on, but he couldn’t help but start laughing once you did.
“You are the most dramatic person I have ever met. We just gotta wait it out. Although, with all this anticipation, hopefully you can last more than a minute.” You mumbled the last part, your gaze leaving jj’s as you buckled your seatbelt, knowing he would start huffing over your comment.
And that he did, huffing as he started the car, running his fingers through his hair. “That’s — shut the fuck up. Don’t act like this won’t be torture for you, too.” He mumbled back, backing out of the parking lot and heading towards the chateau.
It had been a long week since your appointment. You and jj had never gone this long without having sex. You could have still used a condom in the meantime, but after a conversation in bed the first night, you had both decided to wait until you could do it raw for the first time. You were struggling, to say the least, but you had more composure than jj did all week.
He wasn’t making it easy though. The way he cuddled against you in bed, his hard dick pressing into your lower back made you crave the feeling of him inside of you. You almost caved multiple times every time he touched you, you just wanted more. But he respected your agreement, even though it was just as torturous for him. Touching your skin, seeing the way the bottom of your ass cheeks stuck out of the bottom of your shorts, all he wanted to do was rip your clothes off and bury himself inside of you. But he could wait, it would be worth it.
It couldn’t have been more perfect timing. Day seven had finally come around and your beautiful and wonderful friends all happened to have plans, which meant you and jj had the chateau to yourselves. It truly felt like a gift from god.
It was late morning, the soft glow of the sun peaking through the sheer blinds of the bedroom jj had made his own had woken you from your sleep. jj was still sleeping soundly next to you, his face pressed against your neck, an arm draped firmly across your waist.
“jay,” you whispered, softly rubbing circles on the back of his neck, your face being close enough to leave soft kisses in his messy blonde hair.
“mm- oh, fuck,” jj rasped, quickly gaining consciousness as he realized it was finally morning. He was so excited to sleep last night because it meant the next day would come quicker. It was like a kid on Christmas Eve. “it’s time?” He lifted his head from your neck, rolling himself over so he was on top of you, his hands holding himself up above your head on the pillow.
“It’s time,” you giggled, reaching up to cup his cheeks, “I’m done being patient. Need you inside me.” You whispered, and at that, jj leaned down, connecting your lips. He wasn’t completely rough, but he wasn’t gentle, and god did you miss this.
Your lips didn’t part from one another as his hands moved their way down your body. His fingers fiddled with the hem of his t-shirt that clad your body, yet another thing making him absolutely feral.
You disconnected to breathe, and so that he could lift your shirt above your head, discarding it on the cluttered floor. You looked up at him, now only in your panties, finding that familiar comfort that lived in those beautiful blue eyes of his.
“Fuck, missed seeing you like this, baby.” He panted, his breath hot on your skin as he lowered his mouth down to your tits, his tongue circling your sensitive nipple as you gasped, reaching up to entangle your fingers in his hair.
He soon took your whole nipple in his mouth, humming in satisfaction against the warm skin, while also lowering his body to grind his boxer clad dick against your wet center. He was achingly hard, no doubt his boxers were already stained with the precum that was eagerly leaking out of his sensitive tip.
You whimpered softly as he grazed his teeth against your nipple as he sucked sloppily, the feeling of his mouth on you making your center pulsate harder.
“jj, need you, please..” you whined, grinding your hips up against his dick, the fabric beneath the two of you was too much. You needed him.
“Okay, baby, okay,” he breathed, pulling his mouth off of your nipple with a pop, leaving the skin red and wet, “need to taste you first.” He added before scooting down further on the bed, giving himself enough room to pull his shirt over his head and discard it with yours.
He quickly repositioned himself in front of your legs, his ring clad fingers cold on your skin as he pushed your knees apart, sliding his hands up your thighs as he spread your legs. He was met with your underwear which you could feel was soaked, and you were sure it was quite the sight for him to see.
“Jesus, fuck, you’re soaked.” He hummed, palming his hands up and down your thighs until he reached the waistband of your underwear, his fingers not hesitating to pull the fabric down your legs and off of your body completely.
“There she is,” jj smiled at the sight of your pussy before him, running a finger through your wet folds, circling your entrance and sliding it back up to rub torturously slow circles against your clit. He was acting as though your pussy was his best friend who he hadn’t seen in months. Again, he was dramatic.
“Please, jay, fuck, you — you can’t torture me now, ‘s been way too long.” You whined, your eyes shutting for a moment as you clenched around nothing, his touches making your veins feel like fire. You needed something.
“M’kay, baby, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, just missed this. Don’t like not having you for so long.” He finally gave in, lowering his head to finally take you in his mouth, his tongue flicking quickly against your clit as his wet lips closed around it, sucking the sensitive bud in his warm mouth.
You couldn’t hold back the moans that fell from your lips, the feeling of his mouth finally on you mixed with the soft breaths leaving his nose that was pressed against your pelvic bone was everything.
“That’s right, that’s good, yeah? Just what you needed?” He pulled back for only a moment to glance up at you as you nodded quickly in response before his middle finger teased your wet entrance. Without another word, he pushed his finger inside of you, bringing his mouth back on your clit at the same time as he began pumping his finger inside of your tight pussy, not missing the sweet gasp that left your parted lips.
He got a rhythm going as he always did, eventually adding his index finger, stretching your tight walls around his fingers as his mouth moved sloppily against your clit. It was a wet mess already, his chin and fingers completely soaked with your juices, the sound of your moans and his soft praises filled the room as he quickened his pace, bringing you closer to your high.
“I’m close, fuck me, I’m gonna come-“
It took only a few more pumps from jj, the way he curled his fingers perfectly, not missing a beat as your stomach tightened before contracting, your eyes squeezing shut as you moaned loudly, reaching forward again to grip tightly onto your boyfriends hair, pulling rather hard as your orgasm took over your body.
Your pussy clenched around his fingers as he pulled them out, bringing them up to his lips to lick them clean as he grinned lovingly at you.
“That’s good, baby, you’re so good for me,” he cooed, leaning down once again to press a sweet kiss onto your sensitive clit, making your breath hitch as you came down from your high. “You ready for me now? Been dreaming of this since I met you.” jj studied your face for any sign of hesitation, brushing a loose strand of hair that had fallen by your eyes.
“I’m ready, please, need to feel you.” You responded rather quickly, wholeheartedly enjoying the foreplay, but this is what you had been waiting for, you were ready to feel him fully.
“I got you, I got you…” he gave a quick kiss to your lips before sitting up and removing his boxers. His cock sprung free, happily unrestricted now, his tip red and swollen, precum now leaking out down his shaft.
You watched as he gave himself a few quick pumps, lubricating himself with his precum before positioning his cock in front of your pussy, gathering your wetness onto his tip before lining himself up with your entrance.
One hand held his cock as he slowly pushed himself inside of you, the other holding your bare waist. It was immediate euphoria for the both of you. You both had no idea what utter pleasure had been beneath the thin condom you had grown so accustomed to.
jj paused once he bottomed out, his eyes meeting yours as you nodded profusely for him to keep going. He needed a second, your joke about him not lasting was now fresh on his mind, but he was determined to make this last for the both of you, and he would be damned if he didn’t give you at least one more orgasm.
“Fuck me, Y/N, holy shiiitt you feel so perfect. So perfect for me. Pussy was made for me.” He groaned, taking a deep and shaky breath before he felt like he could begin moving again.
And so he did, his thick cock pushing in and out of you as you desperately reached up to grab the back of his neck, your fingernails digging into the soft skin making his little curses and moans grow louder.
Sex had never felt this good before, no barriers at all, just jj, completely jj. Watching his eyebrows furrow in pure and utter pleasure as his lips parted was sending your stomach into a frenzy and realistically you both knew that this first time going raw wouldn’t last too much longer, but that was okay.
“Love you, love you, feels so good, just— fuck, harder, please, I’m close.” You whined, your pussy clenching around jj’s cock as he quickened his pace, his hand that was holding your waist now moving down to rub at your clit, knowing that was going to do it for you.
“C’mon, baby, let go, yeah? Come for me, fuck — love you so much, so so good..” he praised, his cock hitting your sweet spot so perfectly while his fingers worked tirelessly against your clit, and that was all it took for your orgasm to hit you at full force, showing no mercy as your back arched, your fingers digging even deeper into your boyfriend’s skin. You didn’t even know what words left your mouth as you rode out your high, but you couldn’t care less.
jj’s gaze left your eyes as he looked down at the sight of his cock sliding in and out of your pussy, juices everywhere, no doubt leaving a mess on the sheets. But the sight of that alone, mixed with the euphoria of being inside of you completely raw, not to mention the way your pussy clenched repeatedly around his cock, that was it for him. He pushed in one last time, his tip hitting deep inside of you as he came, truly inside of you for the first time. Thick spurts of come shot into you as he completely lost his composure, his arms unable to hold him up any longer, collapsing against your bare chest.
“My baby, god, fuck, I love you so much, you’re… ahh, fuck.” jj moaned one last time, needing a moment to catch his breath before he could move again. What felt like forever was only a few seconds, however, and he slowly pulled his softening cock out of you, not missing the way you winced at not only the sensitivity but the loss of fullness.
Taking a breath, jj leaned over the side of the bed to grab his t-shirt, gently wiping up his mess that was now spilling out of you. He made a mental note to put a towel down next time, might save a load of laundry, and a shirt.
“You did so good, baby. I’ve never felt so good in my fucking life.” He kissed your swollen lips once he finished wiping you up, smiling tiredly at your sweet post orgasm face, cheeks pink with a small but satisfied little smile on your lips.
“Yeah, no, that was well worth the wait.”
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