#might fuck around and make this into a series

[ghstzzn]

roommates for dummies!

pairings: lee heeseung x f!reader, jay park x f!reader, jake sim x f!reader, park sunghoon x f!reader synopsis: desperate to get off of your bestfriends couch, you decide to reply to an ad online in search of a roommate. sure, you were skeptical about living with four men—but if anything, just desperate. it wasn't long before you started to completely regret this decision. however, some things just might be worth the stress and anger.

part two! wc: 7.8k

tags/warnings (chapter specific): SMUT. theres no fivesome happening (sorry..), rough sloppy sex, oral (f.), overstim, squirting, lots and lots of gross vulgar talk, jake tries to be mean dom but he's just desperate, creampie, unprotected sex, degrading, usage of the word slut & whore, nothing makes sense, slightly unedited if there's mistakes then oopsies, chaewon bestie moment, arguing, jayhoon secret gay lovers, slight mxm but it's also nothing at all, jake cums untouched but it's barely mentioned, heeseungs always listening, and they talk about fucking her at the start. every one sucks in this btw. reader likes being a whore. jake has an imaginary bet going on with the other guys. if i missed anyth lmk!

🍊: sorry this is almost two months late. got busy teehee. also, yes this is a series, no it's not a strict timeline or anything. it's just porn with some plot that doesn't work in one part. i kind of hate the intro but enjoy!!! <3

masterlist / part one / part three

MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT!

roommates were a strange concept. living in a house full of friends, or even your partner, was one thing. but moving in with strangers and entrusting your entire life with them seemed so normal.

although, living with four men was quite uncanny, and a bit scary at first. everyone thought so too. it was no surprise to you that word got around through a small crowd that you were the boys’ new roomie, and of course people thought you were no more than just their fuck toy.

was the wild accusation really that far from the truth?

you never had more than two roommates at a time in your life, but you always categorized them; the friend and the enemy. maybe it was bad luck, but you always ended up stuck living with someone you never quite got along with. the short-lived housing situation with your ex-boyfriend claimed both titles to himself though. 

but now, you sit and wonder where your current roommates fall in these categories. you weren’t exactly friends with any of them. save for when you sit and rant to jake about your day or his best friends or the 2 a.m accidental kitchen meetings with heeseung because the both of you have a nonexistent sleep schedule (for totally opposite reasons.) but you would never consider those enjoyable because he can’t seem to keep things normal. ever.

your status with jay remained awkward. there was a weird tension between the two of you that you wouldn’t call sexual or was it because either of you were shy. maybe it was because he was sunghoons (the enemy) best friend, or the fact that he walked in on sunghoon balls deep inside of you in the shared kitchen and kept nonchalant about it.

the two of you bicker but it ends quickly because you both run out of things to say, and you suppose that's where the sexual tension comes in but you both walk away before it makes its grand appearance.

but oh boy, when sunghoon comes around, jay can’t keep his mouth shut about you. he could go on about how you’re such a bitch and all you do is nag. you wonder if the two get off next to each other as they talk about their supposed shared hatred for you.

heeseung is another good example of an odd relationship. you weren’t his friend, and he surely wasn’t yours but it’s also not like the two of you are constantly out for each other's heads. this could be because he’s high out of his mind half the week or because he locks himself in his room more than half the day.

when the sun disappears, heeseung makes his appearance. 

it’s been a few weeks since your escapade in the kitchen with sunghoon and heeseung. for some sick reason, you thought some pussy would shape them into better roommates— better people. but unfortunately, men will always remain men.

also, to your surprise, nobody told jake.

and jay? he completely forgot it even happened.

“YOU FUCKED HER?” jake screeches loudly from the living room. “both of you?!”

heeseung giggles like a teenage girl, legs swinging as he sits on the counter across from jay, where he slaves away at the stove to make sure his best friends remain fed.

“yeah, yeah.” sunghoon rolls his eyes. “could you be any louder?”

“no?” jake holds a look of distress as he paces back and forth from the living room to the kitchen.

“wait- that was her? on the counter, sunghoon?” jay suddenly asks, holding a large knife in his hand as he recalls the day he walked in on sunghoon fucking you against the kitchen counter.

the taller male hums, returning his attention to his phone. jay smacks his lips and shrugs.

“against the counter?!” 

“dude, shut up!” 

jake slams his hands against the counter top, “i demand details. now.”

“you don’t need to know sh-“

“oh my god, she was so tight.” heeseung cuts his roommate off, “i made sunghoon hold h-“

“you fucked her at the same time?”

heeseung throws the entire roll of paper towels at the brunette haired boy, “stop fucking interrupting! anyways… yes. hoonies a fucking freak, you know.”

“says you,” sunghoon retorts. “day one gooner over here just couldn’t wait to get into her pants. he made me hold her while he got his dick wet.”

“i’m getting hard just thinking about it.”

jay shoots an appalled look at heeseung before turning off the stove. the boys gather around the kitchen island, grabbing portions of food for themselves. the conversation drifting away into something new— video games and sports. man talk.

“wait, so did she like it?” jake speaks up once more about the topic.

sunghoon and heeseung share a smirk before turning to jake, who honestly seemed a little afraid of the two men at the moment.

“oh, that girls a fucking slut.”

it was a surprisingly quiet morning.

you were able to sleep in thanks to the silence in the house, the sound of light rain pattering against your window lulled you back to sleep the first time you woke up.

exiting your attached bathroom, you peel off your shirt and throw on a cuter, more put together, top. you exhale and stretch your arms upwards, rolling out your neck, relieving any tension from the night before.

this is what you needed. a relaxing, tension free day to yourself.

“hey.” 

forget that. of course the incels are still home.

“jesus fucking christ jake!” you jump back and curse at the man who just barged into your room. “i thought i locked that fucking door.”

jake glances at the door knob and shakes his head. 

“okay, then knock next time!”

he shrugs his shoulders and steps further into your room, studying your walls and decorations. “cute room, baby.”

you roll your eyes and follow him with your eyes. “much cuter when there isn’t an obnoxious man inside.”

“heeseung? has he been in here too?”

“what?” you ask, dumbfounded. “no. what do you want?” 

“you let heeseung fuck you?”

all you could do was stare at your roommate. “i can't even get a good morning? not a ‘hey! how’s your morning going!’”

“and sunghoon? you let them both fuck you in the kitchen?!”

you let out a long sigh, running your hands through your hair and sit at the edge of your bed. you couldn’t lie, jake bringing up the entire situation made you heat up a little but you had to keep up a nonchalant act in front of these men to keep their egos from exploding.

“yes, jake. i fucked them both.”

jake lets out a groan— or whine. and you only stare at him with confusion. “whyyy?” he throws his hands over his face dramatically.

“…why did i fuck them or-“

“yeah! why did you fuck them first?”

you blink at him, trying to wrap your head around his absurd curiosity. he’s like a child asking why his sibling got to go outside and play while he was told to stay inside. jake seemed genuinely upset and so curious about it all. it’d all be endearing if the conversation at hand wasn’t about your pussy and who you let use it first.

and here you are, at a loss for words. because why did you?

“well, i-i.. it’s not like i meant to..” jake listens intently to your answer. for the first time, he’s paying attention to you but for the wrong reasons. “it just happened. one minute we were arguing and the next i- well, you know…”

“no, i don’t.” he replies flatly.

you start to speak again but go quiet. what exactly did he want from you now? and why did this somehow feel serious?

“were they good?” jake asks. “did they eat you out? did they pull out? did you even cum?”

“jesus christ jake!” you cut off his rambling. “are you jealous? or like, upset?”

“so.. no?”

you groan and lean back on your arms. this entire conversation was actually starting to piss you off, and you didn’t even know what the point even was. 

“why the fuck do you care? i’m not some thing you can just fuck and use when you please! i mean i have feelings and-“

jake nods, fingers on his chin as he “listens” to you rant to him. he lets out a few hums, faking his responses for you. to him, by doing this, he’s winning brownie points.

“-you all walk all over me and treat me like shit!”

“oh, baby…” jake sighs, stepping closer to you and kneeling down in front of you. your body tenses up as he puts his hands on the mattress, caging you between them. “it must be so difficult knowing no one here bothers hearing you out. i'm so.. sorry. you deserve better, yeah?”

you furrow your eyes at the man kneeling before you, torn between wanting to smack him in the face or thanking him for actually listening. “i… yeah. it���s just not fair.”

“yeah?” he hums. “it’s not, is it? it’s not like you have a choice either… so you just have to put up with it.”

“yea- what?” 

“i wish i could take all your frustration away.” he continues, “i wanna make you feel better— can i make you feel better?”

you scoff at him, pushing him away by his forehead, sending him falling backwards.

“what was that for?”

“did you listen to a single word i fucking said?” you shout at him, blood boiling at his responses. “you are such a prick, jake. i was being vulnerable to you.”

“and i appreciate that you trust me enough to do so! now let me make you feel better in return.” he crawls back between your knees.

“you weren’t even listening— and i don’t trust you!” 

jake feigns an offended expression, holding a hand over his chest. “i was!” 

“then what did i say?” you ask him with crossed arms, awaiting his response as he deeply thinks about your question, but you already know his answer.

“you said.. you said sunghoon pisses you off! or something like that,” you scoff at his response. “please! you’re being difficult.”

“you’re annoying.”

“let me eat you out.” 

“no.”

“come on, please.”

“jake.”

“let loose a little! i already know heeseung didn’t do that much for you, so let me!” he continues to plead. “look, i can make you feel really really good. i’m better than him when it comes to eating pussy— i can make you forget all about them.”

you roll your eyes and scoot further up the bed, it may seem like an attempt to get away from the man but he only persists and follows your movements. “come on, baby. i want you to cum on my face. you don’t have to like me for me to do this.”

“you are seriously an insufferable piece of shit, it’s no wonder you’re best friends with these idiots.” jake smirks at your response, ghosting his hands down your sides to your thighs. he’s absolutely eating up every reaction you give him. you do it all the time, and you’ve done it since you moved in. the way you shyly avoid his gaze and tell him to quit yet you never move away from him.

even when you argue with jake, you blush a deep red and he doesn’t think it’s all from anger. jake thinks it’s quite endearing, actually. all you need is a little love, and a few touches.

and it pisses him off that he wasn’t the first one to fuck you.

like seriously? you hate sunghoon. you hate sunghoon more than the other three boys. since the day you moved in, you and sunghoon would go at it like cats and dogs. he pissed you off to no end with his arrogant attitude and his narcissism. the man was another rich asshole who spoke with a mouthful of silver spoons that didn’t even belong to him.

you fucking hated nepotism.

and though the other three weren’t much better, at least jake could hold a conversation without flexing how many figures his daddy makes in a year. or that his mommy owns the neighborhood you all reside in.

or that his family owns the fucking university you go to and threatens to get you kicked everytime you piss him off.

maybe you do favor jake out of the four. it’s not like you adore the guy in any way, but he was more tolerable than the nepo-baby, the gooner and the… whatever the fuck jay has going on. he was a different breed of asshole.

and though the sentiment isn’t real, jake will gladly sit there and listen to you rant about his own friends. before he found out what happened between you, sunghoon and heeseung, he proudly sang with confidence that his time spent with you would land him a free ticket in your pants.

seriously, how many times does jake have to cover up his horniness as a genuine connection. how many times does he have to flash you his signature smile and playfully flirt with you until you fold?

was he the first to fuck you? no. but jake is sure he’s about to not only make you cum on his tongue, but also his cock and boy is he going to rub it in all of their faces.

but you aren’t stupid.

“get,” you grab his hands and push them off of you, “out.”

“what?”

you roll your eyes and climb out of bed, standing over jake, who was still on his hands and knees. “i said get out. i have plans today and i don’t need any of you foiling them.”

“what the hell?”

-

“why are you so on edge?” 

you look over at chaewon from your position on the couch, previously focused on jay moving around in the kitchen and jake sitting at the island with his face shoved in his nintendo switch.

“it’s too calm here.” you mutter in response. truly, it felt like the calm before the storm. you were currently co-existing with your roommates at a near distance and not a single person was making a rude comment.

granted, chaewon was visiting and it’d be childish to act out in front of a guest. and both jay and jake are on the calmer side of the spectrum when it comes to pissing you off. 

chaewon cocks an eyebrow at you, “do you want the opposite.” 

“no. it’s just weird.”

your best friend hums and nods her head, suddenly scooting closer to you. “so, who was it?”

“what do you mean?”

“girl, who fucked you in the kitchen?” she shoves you playfully and your eyes widen. you glance around to see if the two males heard that and cringe deep down when jay makes eye contact with you.

you sigh and shoot her a glare, “you have such a loud mouth.”

“okay? is it either of them?”

you shake your head, looking around once more. sunghoon and heeseung were home, but either hidden away in their rooms or somewhere else in the house and your friends curiosity won't die down unless she sees them face to face. 

“heeseungs probably in his room,” you start, pausing to think about the other male’s whereabouts. “i’m not sure where sunghoon is.” chaewon groans in response, causing you to roll your eyes and playfully swat at her.

“do either of you want some fruit?” a voice interrupts the two of you.

you slowly turn your head towards jay and blink at him. he doesn’t remove his gaze from you, not even for a second.

“oh, that’s really sweet of you…” chaewon trails off.

“jay.”

a nervous smile takes over her expression and she nods at his short reply, “jay.. yeah, i’ll have some.”

he continues to stare at you, waiting for your response.

“sure.”

every single time you have tried to reach for a piece of fruit, jakes hand is beating you there. the first few times could’ve been mistakes, but now he’s shooting you a smirk when his fingers graze against yours. in any other situation you would’ve found it to be an endearing mistake. but this is jake. it’s not endearing. it’s annoying.

with a roll of your eyes, you bring your hand back to your lap, earning a confused and quite offended look from jake.

chaewon sits silently next to you, nervously biting into a piece of watermelon. the poor girl was too scared to speak over the glares you were sharing with the two men.

you were sure this was apart of some elaborate plan from the two. they have never once offered sliced fruit in your few months of living here, nor have you ever just sat in the living room, bonding, as chaewon put it.

“so, chaewon..” the mentioned girl looks up rather quickly from the same watermelon piece she’s been chewing on for the past few minutes. jake is sprawled out on the lounge chair, playing with a few strands of his hair. “what do you do? like, what’s your major?”

chaewon straightens her posture, setting the slice of watermelon down. she shoots you a quick glance, as if asking for permission to speak. you give her a reassuring smile and she takes a deep breath.

“well…” she trails off, explaining her major and why she’s taking it. jake is staring at you the entire time with one hand running through his hair and the other resting on the crotch of his jeans.

you let out a scoff, slightly louder than intended, gaining everyone’s attention. chaewon raises an eyebrow and a cocky grin spreads across jake's face.

jay looks up from his phone, “that was a little rude, wasn’t it?” as if he were paying attention in the first place.

jake lets out a snicker as the other male keeps his gaze on you. you readjust your sitting position awkwardly and mutter a quick sorry to your best friend, urging her to continue.

“my plan is to be a nurse,” chaewon continues, “i feel as if people don't appreciate nurses as much as they do surgeons or doctors. i just want to help people in more ways than just a scalpel.”

she smiles and looks down at her lap. you’ve always found her so endearing, and you knew her soul was beautiful inside and out.

“wow, that’s really something,” jake responds, clapping his hands together as he leans forward. “you know, jays dad owns a few hospitals, i’m sure he could help you out there.”

“really?” 

jay looks at jake before looking at chaewon, giving her a small nod. “hm, sure. we could get you in as soon as you’re ready. my dad is kind of strict on hiring but i can tweak some things.”

“what’s the catch?” you’re the center of attention once again, but you direct your focus on jay, who’s now sporting a cocky expression as he leans back against the couch.

he tilts his head and throws his arm around the back of the couch, “why would there be a couch? just helping a friend in need.”

“but she’s not your friend, nor is she in need.”

chaewon goes quiet again, looking everywhere except at the two of you. your other roommate is shaking his head as he holds back his own laughter.

“jeez, no need to get jealous. i’d be more than happy to pull some strings for you too.” jake butts in, “look, you made your friend feel bad.”

you turn your head towards chaewon, “hey, i didn’t mean it like that. i just— i mean, i don’t trust them.”

“they are your roommates.” she mutters.

“aw man,” jake cooes. “you should really learn to lighten up. not everyone is out to get you.”

you shoot a glare at him and he throws his hands up in a defensive posture. chaewon darts her eyes around the tense living room, deciding it would probably be best if she left right now.

“i’m gonna get going,” she announces as she stands up, “it’s late.”

“it’s not even seven.”

she ignores jay’s comment and grabs her bag, heading for the front door. you follow her and shoot her an apologetic look before letting the girl out.

“seriously?” you cross your arms as you walk back into the living room.

jake shrugs and leans over for another piece of fruit, popping it in his mouth, “we didn’t do anything except give her a really useful piece of information that could help her further down in life.”

“yeah, right.” you roll your eyes, “i’m not dumb and you guys can't operate without there being a catch.”

“that attitude is going to get you absolutely nowhere,” jay says, “your bitchy tone drove your own friend to leave— not my job offer.”

you scoff at his insult, it wasn’t your fault, what the hell? jays smug expression made you want to hop over the couch and wipe it off yourself.

“seriously though, we were just being nice. a friend of yours is a friend of ours.” jake spread his arms out, motioning between himself and the other male sitting across from him.

“we aren’t friends.”

“ouch, babe.”

you roll your eyes again. you’re sure that one day they’ll get stuck that way. “i’m going to my room.”

as you finish collecting your belongings from the living room, shoving them into your bag, jay speaks up once more.

“you know, i’ve never truly had a problem with you… but today, you really do prove that you’re just a bitch who can’t even tell when someone is truly being kind or not.”

you have two options; throw your entire bag at jay while screaming, or walk off cooly and not let it bother you.

“‘never had a problem with me?’” you quote in the air, “tell that to all the times you and your boyfriend shared snide comments about me to each other.”

“my boyfriend?”

“yeah,” you nod, pushing back your own smirk, “park sunghoon.”

he scoffs at you, looking up from his spot. you can’t even deny how good it feels to be above him, even if it is just your current position. “i know who you’re talking about.”

“oh, well. i’m glad that bit is settled.” you respond with a soft smile, tilting your head ever so slightly to portray the faux ignorance to the true reason he’s upset.

jays jaw clenches and he’s about to say something before jake springs up from his seat with a loud, dramatic sigh. “all you guys do is fight. it never ends.”

“we don’t fight.” you respond with a shake of your head. it was somewhat true– you and jay rarely spoke to each other and only half of your conversations included snarky remarks towards one another. the problem was that jay only spoke up about you when others were around.

jake looks back and forth at the two of you with a bored expression. jays attention is focused on the faux houseplant in the corner of the room, avoiding both of your gazes. 

“jay just likes to talk shit about me when you and the other boys are around because he thinks it’ll impress you,” you continue, “like it’s gonna make you guys worship him and suck his dick.”

“you’re so fucking gross,” jay spits. you give him a sarcastic smile in exchange. 

the shorter male cringes and scoffs, “you are very vulgar sometimes, you know that?”

if it weren’t for the situation, his comment would be funny considering he only let you move in because you were a woman with a seemingly hot voice. except, you refused to give it up for months after moving in, and that pissed jake off. and you wouldn’t be surprised if the others were just as mad you didn’t open your legs for them either.

but before you could respond, jay beat you to it. 

“i really miss the days you would hide in your room.”

you chuckle, “ah, you’d like me in my room wouldn’t you, fucking freak.”

the male rolls his eyes, leaning back in his seat comfortably, “don’t be weird, not everyone wants to fuck you.”

jake shrugs at the response, mumbling a soft “wrong” earning a glare from the other. 

“and what’s that supposed to mean?” you were pushing him. jake was getting antsy at the way you continued to egg jay on. he wishes you’d submit and run to your room so he had the chance to relieve you of your anger and stress.

but you were so god damn full of yourself. and so fucking stubborn. 

“seriously?” jay lets out a dry laugh. you tilt your head, waiting for him to elaborate after a few moments of silence. “i don’t know what you did to get these three so pussy drunk– but it won’t work for me, especially if that’s how you plan to get your way around here.”

“i haven’t fucked her?”

the both of you ignore jakes comment, “pussy drunk? i haven’t done shit.” you respond. “you think you’re so wise using every word to call me a slut but it was your friends that came onto me first.”

“sure,” you squint your eyes at him, confused as fuck. “sunghoon doesn’t even make you pay rent. you walk around here like you fucking own this place– when you don’t and you’ll never come close to living a lifestyle like this.”

you were sure that jay was using this moment as a flex considering he genuinely had nothing to hold against you. bringing up money and work was not surprising at all to you, he’s just doing exactly what his best friend does to you. 

“you love bringing up sunghoon and you try so hard to act just like him,” you respond, voice full of amusement. “you’re so obsessed with the man, is he your sugar daddy? is he fucking you hard and deep, jay? because i don’t understand the big deal about that man.”

jays face crinkles in disgust. “you’re fucking crazy.” 

“i’m sorry you didn’t get first dibs on the pussy that has me living rent free here,” you sigh. “i’m sure another willing girl will waltz in here sooner or later. or maybe go take your dicks frustration out on hoon or one of your guitars he bought you.”

“hoon?”

“i’d come up with a nickname for you too but you missed the chance to fuck me,” you repeat. it’s not even like you wanted to have sex with the man, but he was the one who kept bringing it up. it pissed you off that he pretended to know everything– how he acted as if he were god and beyond superior all because he didn’t stick his dick in you.

jake stands there awkwardly yet very amused. 

“i told you i’d rather die.” jay spits.

“then fucking die, jay, i don’t know what you want me to say.”

jake holds his hands out, “woah, hey guys. no need for death threats!” he waves his hands in front of you both. “we are all friends here!”

“sure, if that’s what you wanna call it.”

“the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

you laugh at jay’s quick response, “i’m talking about your relationship with sunghoon.”

“okay! guys, please,” jake pleads, standing between the two of you but only facing you, “let’s chill. ignore him, he’s just trying to piss you off and you know this.”

jay stands up from his chair, mumbling under his breath, “i didn’t even start this shit.” he growls as he walks off, disappearing further into the house. you both hear a door slam in the distance and it takes everything in you to not laugh.

“he’s such a child.”

the shorter male shakes his head, “and you love to fight, don’t you?”

“no? but he fishes for it.” you huff, finally grabbing your bag to travel to your own room, away from the testosterone in the house. jake follows you like a lost dog, and you know it’s because he has nothing better to do so you let him.

he pushes past you into your bedroom and plops down on your bed, spreading his legs and leaning back on his hands. jake watches as you organize your work on your desk, though his eyes are focused on the curve of your ass each time you bend over.

jake feels like he’s suffocating. he’s been sporting a half hard dick since your interaction this morning because he cannot stop thinking about eating you out. sure he can be a bit needy and gross when it comes to getting his dick wet, but he doesn’t think he’s ever been this down bad for somebody knowing his friends got to them first.

it started out as a joke, that he’d be the first to fuck you when letting you move in. he honestly had no plans on making moves on you, nor did the others. but when you got comfortable enough to walk around in your skimpy pajamas and those thin, dainty tank tops you loved to wear, he started to lose his mind.

the amount of times jake has walked into the kitchen to see you sitting on the counter in an oversized shirt, leaving what's under it to his imagination, he’s had to walk out immediately. 

when he would run into you at three in the morning, seeing your half asleep figure in nothing but a tank top and shorts, a strap falling down your shoulder, he’d run back to his room and watch loads of porn to distract himself from you. 

“you feelin’ okay?” jake asks, clearing his throat to avoid a voice crack. he needs to do this smoothly.

you straighten your posture, turning to face him. “honestly, i’m pissed off and all i want to do is relax.”

“lay it on me, baby.”

“it’s just…” you sigh, stepping towards him. “chaewon was over so we could study for our exams next week and i feel like both jay and i ruined it for all of us.”

which is not what he meant whatsoever, but he sits and he listens, nodding as his eyes shut to mask his own frustration, “have you thought about moving out? i’m not asking because i want you to, but…”

jake’s eyes flutter open as he waits for your response. honestly, he’s over talking about all of this. he doesn’t care much for the beef that you have with him or his friends anymore, and he’s certainly over them shit talking about you all day.

“yeah, but i mean i don’t want to leave,” you start with a loud sigh, “i mean, it’s the middle of the year and i can’t get into a dorm, my parents live fifty miles away, and fuck even just a studio is way over my budget.”

“so, what?”

“i need to fucking meditate or something,” you respond, placing a hand on your forehead, “i’m not gonna lie and say i don’t start half of it. i need to be the bigger person here but i have no outlet for my anger.”

jake hums, then pauses. a lightbulb goes off in his head and if you could see inside his mind, you’d see him deviously rubbing his hands together. you let out another sigh and shake your head, “i’ll figure it ou-”

“hear me out.”

“i am not doing this, jake.”

you ought to hear jake out on his ideas more often. sure, it pissed you off that he had only one thing on his mind. but you could feel the anger and tension leaving your body as his tongue flicked against your clit again.

“f-fuck, right there.” you tug his hair upwards and he follows your needy command. his tongue diving through your wetness as if he wanted to drink it all up and his nose bumping against your sensitive bundle of nerves. you’ve always wondered what it’d feel like to have his thick lips attached to your pussy and you’re not at all disappointed by this turn of events.

jake was a god when it came to eating pussy.

suddenly, his words from that morning are flooding back into your mind. you haven’t even come yet and you’re already thinking about the next time you’ll have your roommate between your thighs.

as if on cue, his nose bumps against your clit again and you clench around his tongue, which was buried inside of you. your back arches, forcing your cunt into his mouth as an orgasm washes over your body. jake doesn’t stop either, nor does he slow down. his hands wrap around your thighs and pulls them apart as he nuzzles against your wetness with a grunt.

you have to yank his hair when it all starts to overwhelm you. jake lifts his head up, wearing a surprised look, half of his face drenched in your arousal. “what’s wrong?”

“‘t’s too fucking much, jake.” you breathe out, legs twitching in his hold.

“that’s kind of the point,” he grins widely at you. “feelin’ less frustrated though, right?”

you agree with a whiney hum, in which he responds with a chuckle. “you know how long i’ve had to wait to get you in this position?” you watch as he lifts himself and leans forward. “so long, babe. too long.” jake places a sloppy, wet kiss to your jawline. you can feel your own slick against your skin, he pulls back and places a kiss to your lips, biting softly. “even if the reason is jay, i’ll fucking take it because you taste so fucking good and i’ll sit between these thighs until you’re screaming for me to stop.”

oh. he’s insane about pussy and it makes you throb down below. jake lowers himself once again, placing soft kisses down your stomach before facing your cunt. his eyes flicker to yours before diving in.

you yelp out when he sucks your clit between his lips, legs shaking around his head. 

“louder.”

it’s near impossible to be quiet as he makes out with your cunt, his words only egg you on. you aren’t the only noisy one in the room either. jakes groaning against you, or talking you through it, whether he’s telling you to be louder or asking how it feels.

his fingers prod against your entrance, pushing the tip of the two digits in before out again. he has no plans starting you off slowly, he wants you to feel his own frustration all while taking you out of yours.

“c’mon, baby, don’t you want him to hear?” he cooes, “want him to hear how good i can make you feel… you don’t need them, huh? never did.” he plunges his fingers inside of you, curling them while bringing his mouth back to your clit.

you don’t even know who he’s talking about, it could be jay or it could be sunghoon, but you don’t have time to think over it because the way the tips of his fingers push against the spot inside of you paired with his tongue flattening against the bundle of nerves has your mind completely blanking. 

“mff- yes, god!” you cry out, throwing your head back against your mattress. you lift one of your hands from jakes head and bring it under your shirt to play with your own nipples, pinching and squeezing to add to the pleasure. 

jake takes notice of this and lifts his head for a mere second so he could throw your shirt over your chest, wanting to see you mess with your own tits.

“does it feel that good?”

you nod your head, whining at the way his fingers pump in and out of you, curling and reaching that spot inside of you so well. he can't hide the smile growing on his face as he watches you arch your back into his touch and grope your tits with pleasure.

he leans down, voice low as he mouth plays with your clit, “tell me– tell me how good it feels. i wanna hear you.”

“t-they’re gonna hear,” you manage to respond in between moans.

“let them.”

jake circles his tongue around your clit before softly biting down. the action itself is painful but so good, paired with the fast pacing of his fingers, you’re biting back a scream but he does it again. he wants you loud and unapologetic. fuck, if he could, he’d get you screaming for sunghoon who resides secluded on the other side of the house to hear, better yet, they neighbors. 

because ultimately, he won.

“‘m gonna fucking cum, jake.” you gasp loudly, “d-don’t stop, please don’t fucking stop.”

you don’t have to tell him twice. in fact, he speeds his fingers up and sucks loudly on your clit, sloppy, messy and loud– how he likes it. your body jolts and you grip his hair tighter as you feel your orgasm approach once more. a loud, choked sob escapes your throat as you cum, squeezing your eyes shut and chanting his name like a mantra. 

jake slurps up your wetness, removing his fingers so he can shove his tongue in your dripping hole, wanting every last drop of your cum down his throat. he was a fucking mess and it was all because of you. 

your thighs close around his head so tightly that he can’t even hear your loud moans and pleads for him to let off, just the ringing in his ears from the pressure. he nuzzles his face flush against your cunt, as if it were possible to get any closer. 

“jesus, fuck!” you practically scream out. it was almost painful but if it weren’t for your estranged yelp, he would remain buried. 

he looks at you in a daze, completely fucked out even though his cock remained untouched. but he can feel himself dripping in his own pants, his boxers clinging to his dick due to the dampness, he’s not even sure if he came untouched because he was so focused on your cunt.

“y-you’re fucking insane,” you pant, chest rising and falling dramatically. 

jake shakes his head, a droplet of your arousal falling from the tip of his nose. he looked amazing like this, and it scared you how much it turned you on. 

“please let me fuck you.”

it’s not like you want to say no, but he spent so much time abusing your cunt with his mouth that you’re on the verge of numbing out. “jake, i’m so sensi-”

he cuts you off, leaning forwards a pressing his bulge against your wetness, “i’ll be gentle– i can be gentle, just please, i think i need to fuck you before i actually lose my mind.”

jakes plan on fucking you dumb, to the point of forgetting where you are or why you were upset had completely backfired and now he felt like the stupid one. his head was dizzy and all he could think about was stuffing you full.

for all those times he’s had to restrain himself, to hold back because he didn’t want you running out the door–it’s paid off in a way. when his friends told him about their experience fucking you, he lost his moral compass on the way to your room the next morning. he’s begging you to let him lose himself in your cunt because it all he needs.

“‘t’s not fucking fair,” he groans, burying his head in your neck. “you only take cock from them now? can’t let me have this?”

you don’t know what he’s rambling about nor does he. he grinds against you again and you let out a whine.

“see? you want it so bad, don’t you? walking around here like you hate us, but let us fuck you just how you like because you’re so god damn full of shit, huh?” 

“jake-”

“so fucking hungry for cock,” he continues, one hand doing all the work to free himself from the restraints of his jeans. “they’re right. such a slut but god it’s so sexy, you know that right?”

before you can blink, jake buries his cock deep inside of you. he has to pause to breathe and let his head clear before he lets himself loose and cums before even starting. for a second time. he lets out a deep sigh before rocking his hips slowly, warming himself up before speeding his pace up.

your cunt flutters around him and he chuckles, readjusting your position so that your legs are resting on his shoulders. his hair is damp and stuck to his forehead despite not even moving much.

“look at you,” he groans softly, “don’t like being called a whore but sure do like getting fucked like one.”

he tries to speak up but his own moan cuts himself off. he couldn’t degrade you more if he tried because holy fuck your pussy might have him convinced he won in life. jake pulls his hips back before roughly plunging his cock back into you. he drinks up every loud moan you give him, and he thrusts into your leaking hole as if trying to get you to be louder.

but at this point he’s chasing his own pleasure. no matter how hard he fucks into you, it doesn’t feel like its enough. jake leans forward, pushing your knees to your chest so he can hit it from another angle. 

letting out a loud groan like whimper, jake presses his forehead against yours and continues his rough, sloppy pace. your moans mixed together plus the sweet sound of wet slapping fills the room like a song, and there was no denying that the entire house could hear it.

it was far too much, he said he’d be gentle but jake has fucked the both of you into stupidity. but you can’t bring yourself to be upset because the way the tip of his cock almost meets your cervix has you seeing the fucking stars. the entire scene was desperate and messy. jake couldn’t even get his pants fully off before fucking you and you could feel the material of his jeans rub against your ass almost painfully.

“god, fuck me,” jake roughly whines, “pussy ‘s so good.”

his voice is breaking and stuttering, attempting to hold himself back but he just can't. the male's lips are wet against yours, desperately biting and kissing yours with fervor. he can feel his stomach tense up but he holds back, edging himself to get the most of your pussy because jake knows once he cums, he’ll be fucking cooked. 

“j-jake, please,” you cry out, gripping his shoulders tightly. you feel as if you’re about to explode, the pleasure is overwhelming and almost painful due to his sloppiness but nonetheless you feel another intense orgasm creeping. “please cum soon, i-i can’t-”

he groans loudly, lifting himself to thrust harder– he was about to have the best orgasm of his life. the man can’t even be embarrassed about the literal whimpers and sounds coming out of his mouth because he knows god damn well that any other man would be in the same position if given the chance to fuck you like this. 

a sharp yelp rips from your throat and your legs wrap around his wait, almost restricting his moments. but when he looks down, he sees god. 

clear liquid gushing from your cunt, soaking the bottom half of his shirt and covering the both of your thighs. his eyes roll back as he cums without a second thought to it, cock pulsing as thick, white ropes cover your walls. 

it takes a few long moments for the both of you to recover from your orgasms. nothing but the sound of panting fills the air.

“p-please get up,” you smack jakes back softly. his body jolts, realizing he almost fell asleep in the position. 

he whispers an apology before lifting himself up and off of you. the feeling of his cock dragging against your creamy walls almost makes him want to go another round, but he knows he has to resist.

though, if it were up to him, he’d be making up for every missed opportunity today. instead, he kneels in front of you, trying not to get lost in the way his cum drips out of your pulsing hole, and helps you sit up. this way, the two of you can see the wetness covering both bodies. 

“you squirt,” jake comments, “that’s real fucking hot.”

before you can reply, the door slams open and shut within two seconds.

“what the fuck, heeseung?” the both of you spit at the same time.

the red haired male stands there with his hands up, “look, i was trying to be respectful and blow a load in my own room but sunghoon came in all pissed off mid jerk off and told me to shut you both up.”

“so?” jake answers before you, “what, is he like, jealous?”

“i don’t know, i gave up figuring that out because i heard you say she can squirt and i wanted to see.”

your tired eyes widen and you yank your shirt down, attempting to cover yourself, not that he hasn’t seen it all already. 

“you missed it–should’ve been here earlier.” jake states with a smirk.

“hold the fuck on-”

“nah, i’ve fucked this girl standing up, she has more stamina than you think.”

you get hit with major deja vu. the two conversing as if you’re not there.

“what makes you think i’d squirt again for you?” the two men look at you, a predatory smirk growing on both of their faces.

but before anyone could make a move, a loud guitar riff cuts them off, barely muffled by the wall that separates yours and jay’s bedroom. you shift awkwardly in your position, suddenly aware that everyone in the house did in fact hear you.

“look at her acting all shy,” heeseung snickers, “three down, one more to go. you’re just lucky he’s distracted with his guitars right now, baby. that just means you can be as loud as you want.”

“leave the door open though, they love watching.” jake mumbles before leaning down, placing kisses against your knees and thighs. heeseung chuckles and pulls the door ajar before making his way to the both of you, gripping his shoulders and looking at you as he hovers from behind him.

you visibly gulp at the sight, watching as heeseung leans closer to jakes ear, pressing his body flush against his friends back. you can feel jake’s cock twitch against your thigh and you decide then and there that you’re content with this situation in its entirety–and that you have more ways than one of getting back at your angry roommate in the other room, strumming his guitar with frustration. 

🍊taglist (bold couldn’t be tagged): @filmnings @deobitifull @leov3rse @hooniehon @roslayy @strxwbloody @cutiepatootiejungwon @jakeswifez @yuriknows @d-dilemma @kon-ss @sunooqvrlsx @ayablogsblog @miszes @jaeyungxrl @143won @jaylvrsworld @kaykay11sworld @wonnienyang @immelissaaa @fancypeacepersona @wonsohl @vixialuvs @demigodmahash @ribbioniki @enhamonsterghoul @nshmrarki @wonuziex @firstclassjaylee @isagistar @mothafawkingher @hee-yunie @denleave1088 @matchacake2 @ch4c0nnenh4 @planetmarlowe @binniesbabe @hoonjysn @drunkodazed @rapmonie2047 @yangjungwonisms @isa942572 @simj4k3 @doyotint @jiungscougar @btxtenha @lol6sposts @tinycatharsis @prkhaven @innocygnet

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[endiness]

@sugarrushsock Wow I’m so happy someone actually has all the receipts cuz every other post just seems like vague call out post with no substance. Also wildly the Henry cavill just seems to say whatever makes him look best at that moment. You’d think he’d have a better pr team

@cilianda1 His interviews are scripted all the time

@sugarrushsock They’re terrible at their job if that’s the case. The lack of consistency is alarming to say the least. Like stick to a story cuz they made this guy look stupid

Okay, just to address this, but Henry Cavill's PR was actually a lot more insidious than this post might make things seem. Because he really only fucked up and showed his hand a few times.

Like, out of +50 interviews for S2, it's only in (iirc) 3 interviews that he ever acknowledges anything about how he was the one cutting Geralt's lines — and even then, all of those interviews either happened at con panels, in interviews over ~10 mins long, and/or in foreign/non-english press — all of which are significantly less likely to be seen and reported on by the fandom and larger news outlets. But in all the rest of those +50 interviews? He was talking about how much he pushed for a more verbose Geralt whilst never acknowledging how HE'S the one responsible for that mess in the first place.

Same thing with him going on about how much he cares about adhering to the source material as if Lauren's vision of the show is somehow in opposition to that. He went on and on and on about that all throughout the press for S2, but it's only in a few interviews where he fucks up and actually gives the context for what he meant by "Lauren's vision" ie Yennefer and Ciri being just as important as Geralt is and the show heavily centering around women.

Or, like, in S1 interviews, he was perfectly fine with bringing up how he had no idea about the books until Lauren told him about them and he had no problem talking about how much he was inspired by the video games for his performance as Geralt. Then come S2 (after he'd gotten dunked on by reddit for his book inaccurate performance in S1) and he suddenly changed his tune, hardly mentioned the games as inspiring his performance again (or, really, at all), and started going on and on about the books.

Or even with him admitting to, basically, having only played the third game despite saying he's played all the games and everything — he only ever admitted that in maybe, like, 2 interviews all of which were in foreign/non-english press. Same thing with him admitting he only ever read through the series once — he only ever said that in one interview and it was at a +40 minute long con panel.

Or even this quote from S1 press where he admits to how he didn't actually prepare for the role or do any research:

"I asked my agent to put me on the spot and wanted to meet Lauren as soon as possible. I didn’t even need to prepare specially for the role. Because I breathe, I experience this universe every day. I’ve already had many opportunities to think about this character when I was playing the game. My preparation was already done before the casting even began!"

Like, where is that quote from? It's from an interview he did with a french magazine. So obviously not a lot of people saw it. Plus, the quote might sound… fine without context. But what is the context? He hadn't read any of the books and he had only ever really played the third game.

Like, adding it all up, it does look bad. Because it is lol. But the thing is, the vast, vast, vast majority of the fanbase never did this. It read or watched maybe one or two interviews he did here and there and only ever saw Henry Cavill talking about how much of a fan he is, how much he knows, how hard he pushed for a more book accurate Geralt, how important adhering to the source material is to him. But when you actually look into everything he's said, that's when his whole story really falls apart because none of it adds up or makes any sense.

Debunking misinformation about Netflix's The Witcher (Part 1)

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7]

"Henry Cavill is a massive fan of the books and the games and he quit the show because the writers wouldn't stick to the books and he just cares about the source material so much."

Henry Cavill not only did not know that the books existed when he started pursuing the role of Geralt, but he actually thought that the books were based off of the video games (and he still didn't bother to read them) and he didn't learn that the games were actually based off the books until Lauren told him (even though the first thing in the game credits is that they're based off the books); as of 2021, he as only read the full series once — right before he was cast in 2018; while he has played TW3, he has only played a little of TW2 (and I've never found any evidence that he's played the first game); and he also has not played the DLC for TW3.

Henry Cavill also started heavily pushing the narrative that he's just such a massive fan of the books and how important adhering to the source material is to him during the press for S2 to deflect from how it was due to his acting choices of cutting Geralt's lines and either saying nothing or just grunting instead that Geralt's characterization — who is much more verbose in the books — was book inaccurate in S1:

He also lied about the situation and tried to act like Geralt was never originally written as being verbose and blamed the lack of dialogue on Yennefer and Ciri's prominence, which cannot be true as confirmed by Lauren:

And tried to act like the lines he was cutting weren't that important anyway so it wasn't really a big deal, which also cannot be true as confirmed by Joey:

He also started pushing the narrative that adhering to the source material is so important to him and it's 'tricky' to do that with Lauren's vision, but his definition of "Lauren's vision" is the show being an ensemble piece with Yennefer and Ciri at the forefront (like the books) and the show in general heavily centering around women (like the books):

So the idea of him caring so much about "book accuracy" is, in fact, not accurate to the books at all as his problems were the prominence of women in the show when Ciri is the main character of the main book series, which the show started adapting from S2 onwards (which is when Henry Cavill started to complain about wanting "book accuracy" in the first place), and when women are very prominent, central, key figures in the books and they often drive the plot forwards.

Lastly, S3 was the closest adaption of the books out of all the seasons so far, so the idea that he quit after S3 because the writers just weren't respecting the source material and the show wasn't following the books doesn't make any sense anyway.

"Henry Cavill is the only reason why the show was even close to the source material at all."

I've not only never seen any evidence of this, but if anything, I've seen the exact opposite: Henry Cavill was either directly responsible for or at least contributed in some way to a lot of things that went against the books or didn't happen in them.

As I already pointed out, he cut Geralt's lines in S1 and either said nothing or just grunted instead which is inaccurate to Geralt's characterization in the books. Here's another quote from Joey affirming that:

(Just to note: During the press for S1, he frequently talked about how the games inspired his performance as Geralt — sometimes talking about them even more than the books despite how the show is based off of the books, not the games — and it wasn't until S2 press that he suddenly changed his tune and started talking about how important adhering to the source material ie the books is to him. He also only started advocating for a more book accurate Geralt because he got dunked on by reddit for his book inaccurate performance in S1.)

He didn't want to play Geralt and Jaskier's friendship as directly as in the books and buddy-buddy with each other:

He didn't want to have any kind of conflict in Geralt and Ciri's relationship in S2 — at least on Geralt's side of things:

Nor play Geralt struggling with fatherhood at all — all of which led to the domino effect of Yennefer's betrayal:

Eskel's death (which in itself also led to things like Vesemir trying to create new witchers and Lambert's attitude toward Ciri):

And Voleth Meir being the big bad of the season:

He didn't want Geralt and Triss to even just platonically find comfort in each other in S2 — which is what happens in the books:

He nixed a sex scene between Geralt and Yennefer in S2 because he didn't think it'd be in character of them to have sex after reuniting which, uh, is absolutely in character of them:

While this is an incredibly inconsequential change, given the prevalence of this idea that Henry Cavill is such an ardent defender of the source material ie the books and how much he wanted the show to adhere to them, I do think it's important to note that he pushed for — and got — more signs into the show even though by his own admission that is more of a game thing than a book thing and he got it into the show for the explicit purpose of catering to game stans:

This is also another incredibly inconsequential change, but again, given how prevalent the idea of Henry Cavill pushing for perfect source accuracy is, I do just want to point out that he would wear his armor 24/7 to make it look worn down:

Even though it is canon in the books that Geralt will buy himself brand new clothes, so the idea that Geralt's clothing has to look worn down and can't be brand new is not actually book accurate.

"Lauren wanted to make Roach's death a joke."

Just to address this point specifically, Lauren wanted to make a meta reference about how all of Geralt's horses are named Roach. That in no way, shape, or form means that she wanted to make Roach's death into a joke or even that the scene had to be played comedically. This is what Lauren had to say about the subject and the 'joke' in question (which, js, actually fits the tone of the books more):

And as far as the "Henry Cavill is the only one who cared about the source material and he's the only reason why the show even stuck to the books at all" front goes... Henry Cavill did change the dialogue in this scene to a book quote/reference; however, the quote in question ("Enjoy your last walk across the meadow and through the mist. Be not afraid of her for she is your friend.") is not something that Geralt himself says and the line/scene from the books foreshadows Geralt's ending in them.

So, at least imo — especially taking into account the incredibly high standard the fandom has set for Henry Cavill as the #1 defender of the books — I don't think this change was actually book accurate especially given the narrative significance of that exchange in the books.

[dollbrbie]

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ track two — what you need ft, sae itoshi

summary. sae doesn’t care if your boyfriend is the one you want, he’s the one you need

sae knows that you’re dating his younger brother, he just simply doesn’t care. he doesn’t give you what you need, he’s distant and prioritises football over you, and he knows that rin doesn’t fuck you like you need. rin was just the safe option and the both of you knew that

you knew rin would be able to give you a comfortable life, and potentially your kid’s life. he was stable and predictable, despite how boring it may seem for you now, being young. sae on the other hand, was the opposite.

he might seem calm and collected but his arrogance when it came to you was something you couldn’t deal with long term. he was selfish when it came to you, in his eyes, you belonged to him. he knew exactly what you needed in your life and always held that over you. he knew that rin wasn’t what you needed, it was him.

and despite that frustrating the life out of you, despite that making you want to hate sae, it never stopped you from leaving your boyfriend’s bed empty at 2am while he was dead asleep, rushing over to sae’s apartment with your legs already clenched together. that man had you wrapped around his finger, and you never would do anything about it.

“shit- sae.”, you moan out as you grip onto sae’s bedsheets, your face stuffed in his pillow with your ass ricocheting from sae’s rough thrusts, just the way he liked.

“hm? what is it, sweetheart?”, he asks so condescendingly, he knows exactly what it is you want.

when he doesn’t hear your reply, you feel a sharp pain against your ass and sae’s rough hands firmly grabbing your jaw, forcing you to look up at him as he continues fucking you from behind.

“you not gonna answer me?”, he asks, tutting at you.

“ah- m’sorry.. feels so good, sae.”, you whine, tears escaping your eyes from the intense pleasure sae was giving you that you would never get enough of.

“yeah? i’m making you feel good?”, he breathes out a groan as he pauses his movements for a second, “fuck- it’s me you need, right? not him.”

you turn look at at him, catching a glimpse of a desperate look through his face while nodding, “yeah.”, you whimper out, “i need you.”

he scoffs as he watches you come out of his bathroom, immediately going to pick up your clothes from the floor, “you’re really just gonna go back to him after i’ve just fucked you like that? like how he’ll never be able to?”

“yes.”

“when’re you gonna realise i’m what you need, not him.”, he asks with an exasperated sigh, looking up at you as you continue getting dressed.

“i know, sae. trust me, i know.”, you sigh, “but i can’t leave him now, anyway.”

“why not?”, he questions.

“he proposed to me, i’m his fiancée now.”, you tell him, turning to face him with a neutral expression.

sae has never felt his heart drop like this ever before.

navigation. series masterlist

[honey-on-your-tongue]

FWB

Part 9 Logan Howlett x fem!reader Series masterlist

a week ago

The days blur together. All he knows is that he’s drinking too much. He’s no longer keeping track of where he is, or what time it is, or how much alcohol he’s had. He’s not even keeping track of the women he hooks up with. He doesn’t care. He’s trying to drown, be it in a river of his unshed tears or in the hundreds of whiskeys he drinks. Either way, he just needs it all to disappear.

One night, he’s sitting at a bar, chatting up some girl whose name he can’t even remember. And as she talks and talks and talks, Logan finds himself thinking of you.

You and your gorgeous eyes. You and your sweet words. You and your brilliant mind. And this girl…she’s nothing compared to you. None of the girls he’s ever been with compare to you. Not even Jean.

Yes, he loved Jean. Yes, he admired her. Yes, he cared for her. But you? You’re just…unique. There’s something about you, a certain essence that no one else posseses. It’s like you and him were made to fit together; two pieces of the same puzzle. 

And this woman is talking and talking and talking and Logan remembers your laugh, the scent of your skin, the taste of your lips, the feeling of your fingers in his hair, the arch of your back, the little snores when you were asleep…

What am I fucking doing?

He springs up from his high chair at the bar and the woman pauses. 

“Are you okay?” she asks, eyeing him.

In his drunken state, Logan shakes his head and slurs out, “No.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I have to get back to my girl,” he replies and stumbles towards the exit. 

The night is cool and dark and lonely, but Logan doesn’t notice that. He doesn’t notice how he almost falls a hundred times or how he gets lost half as many times. All that’s in his head is you. You, you, you. He has to get back to you. He has to. 

What the fuck was he thinking? What the fuck was he doing? He just…walked out on you. He’s a fucking idiot.

“Well, that ain’t new,” he mumbles at himself as he finally sees the mansion in the distance. God, how long has he been out here, wandering the streets like a lost dog? It’s gotta be at least two, three in the morning. 

You’re probably asleep. He can picture you lying in your bed, eyes shut, lips parted slightly, your hair all over your pillow…

He stands at the front door for ages, his hand on the doorknob, his heart in his throat.

He feels nervous, scared, disgusted with himself. How is he supposed to face you tomorrow morning? How is he going to look you in the eyes and ask for forgiveness after what he’s done? 

He considers leaving again, but, fuck, he just needs you so bad. And not in a physical, I need her for sex kind of way. He needs to sit down and talk with you, needs to hear about your day, needs to smell your hair right after you’re out of the shower, needs to feel your hand in his while he drives you two somewhere for date night. He needs to love you, like he needs air. In fact, he may need it more than he needs air. At least that’s what it feels like. 

Scared that he’ll run into someone else who might be up, Logan decides to take the kitchen door. He pushes it open silently and slips inside, as nervous as a little kid who just broke an expensive vase.

He’s had enough to drink, but he figures a beer won’t do him any harm. So, he heads to the fridge and takes out a can of beer. He’s just opened it when he hears it. Footsteps. Soft, measured. And then, the scent of you, the sound of your heart beating. 

Everything in him stops, his blood seems to turn to sludge and time slows. A little smile threatens to show on his lips, but he’s not sure he’s in a position to smile at you. “You’re always too loud, never did learn to calm your heartbeat. I heard you a mile away.”

You peek out from around the corner, frowning as you take in his appearance. “Lo?”

God, he missed that. The way you’d say his name, the little nickname that makes him feel like he’s human and not some monster. He sees the way you look at him, though, the way you study his messy hair and long beard. Yeah, he hasn’t been taking care of himself, lately. Life’s been hell without you. And he wants to say that to you. But he doesn’t. He just takes a sip of beer to wash down the words.

You cross your arms. “What’s wrong with you? You can’t just fucking walk in here whenever you damn well feel like it. You nearly gave me a heart attack.”

“Where are the others?” Logan asks, trying not to think about your words. What’s wrong with you? 

I don’t know, he wants to scream. I don’t know. But maybe if I’m by your side, I’ll be okay.

“Working,” you tell him and he sees you put a little switchblade away.

He imagines you all alone here in the night, defenseless. They left you all alone? Left you to take care of the kids and the mansion while they all left on a mission? His blood boils. No, he realizes. They didn’t leave her alone. I did. I’m supposed to be here. 

“Lotta good that would’ve done you,” he says sarcastically about the little blade, angry at himself. He was out drinking while you were here alone, defenseless. He’s an idiot.

“Where the fuck even were you? You’ve been gone for, like, a week,” you accuse and he griamces slightly.

“I just…needed to clear my head,” he says quietly. But the memories of the alcohol, the women the leaving so he doesn’t have to face the consequences comes to mind. 

He sees the look in your eyes and he remembers that you can hear his thoughts. “I see,” you say in a broken voice as you cross your arms. 

Immediately, he tries to make ammends. “No, bub, look—”

“Don’t you bub me,” you snap and he shuts up. You think you can just treat me like that? Fuck me and disappear without a word? You didn't even leave me a fucking note!”

And, God, you’re right. You’re so right. He left without even saying goodbye. You’re right, but he needs to make this okay. “No, listen to me—” he tries again.

You scoff and laugh humorlessly. “There’s nothing to listen to, Logan, because there's nothing you can say to make this better. I don't need any more of your bullshit. I'm done.”

And that’s it. His entire world crumbles then and there. He could swear he feels his heart stop, his lungs refuse to take another breath, his brain unable to process your words. Those two words hit him with enough force that he feels almost instantly sober. “What?” he asks, his voice trembling. He’s never heard his voice tremble before. 

“I’m done. Fucking done.”

One of the kids shows up then and interrupts, but Logan is too far gone to care.

Done. 

He lost you, just like he thought he would, and by trying to avoid that, he achieved it anyway. 

He feels like he might throw up, like he might cry. He wants to break every window in the mansion and destroy every curtain and tear the furniture to pieces and yell and punch and kick and destroy until he’s too tired to do anything but lay there in his sorrow.

Instead, he just remains where he is, frozen, as you turn to take the kid back to bed.

And just before you leave the room, you glance back at him. And that’s the last straw.

He sees the pain in your eyes, the heartbreak. Where he once saw adoration and trust and care, he’s now seeing hate and pain and disappointment.

He was so scared of losing you, that in everything he did to avoid it happening, he only led to its realization. 

---

Taglist

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*if you wanna be added to the taglist, let me know 💛

---

Blog masterlist

[thegremlininyourcloset]

In The Interest Of Getting Myself to Write

What fanfic idea would you like me to write for and then post a snippet of? (Brief description of each under the cut)

most of these are dc wips, but a few are from bsd

Kids In The Dark

Starring: pre-named, post-Hawaii Kon, an original character of mine, and a surprise crossover character (and trust me, it’s not someone you could have predicted)

In which Superboy meets a mysterious vigilante known only as Rebel, who seems to have an odd interest in his… health and wellbeing?

Notes: all the relationships between our main trio are completely platonic! Found family, baby. Also, platonic omegaverse and platonic soulmates because I can

Angst Level: Some

Batgirl, Batgirl, Batgirl…Superboy?

Starring: Newly-personed Kon, Stephanie Brown, Cassandra Wayne, and Barbara Gordon

Inspired by: Suzukiblu’s wip “The Gotham Kid”

In which a Superboy new-to-existing flees to Gotham, the one place no one would ever look for him. The one and only Spoiler finds herself rather displeased with his situation. Apparently, genes CAN be passed on by found family…

Notes: the Batfamily are cryptids in this one, and the vigilante names might change (so might the title, frankly), once again, around family is the goal! Probably will include stephcass, though.

Angst Level: some. Kon is not doing the best.

Into The Robin-Verse

Starring: Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Stephanie Brown, Damian Wayne, Duke Thomas, Maps Mizoguchi, and Carrie Kelley (and possibly Cassandra Wayne)

Due to a rather unfortunate mishap, assorted Robins hailing from assorted timelines and universes have all appeared to ruin Dick Grayson’s day

Notes: once again, platonic relationships

Angst Level: Not insignificant . All of the Robins are stressed, and have issues.

me & you (at the end of the world)

Starring: Yosano Akiko and Ozaki Kouyou

When she’s attacked while walking home from school, the last thing twelve-year-old Ozaki Kouyou expects is to manifest a sword-wielding phantom. And then, before she has time to catch her breath, Kouyou finds herself whisked away from her home and family, summoned to an endless warfront. There, she meets eleven-year-old Yosano Akiko, the only other child—and only other Gifted—in the battalion. Together, the Angel Of Death and the Demon Of Mercy might just make it.

Notes: this is a Kousano fic. It’s not vary shippy at first, considering they’re kids and also actively at war, but that’s where it’s going.

Angst Level: WARNING: This is probably the heaviest fic on here. It deals with themes of war, death, killing, childhood trauma and some implied sexual assault. Stay safe.

Step Left For A Better Future

Starring: Stephanie Brown and Jason Todd, with a fair bit of Dick Grayson, Tim Drake, Cassandra Wayne and Bruce Wayne

Inspired By: the handful of Steph in Titans-Tower fics in existence

Stephanie Brown knows she was never meant to be Robin. She knows she’s just a stand-in till Tim’s dad pulls his head out of his ass. She doesn’t even mind it! (Mostly) But she is getting pretty fucking tired of literally EVERY SINGLE asshole in the entirety of Gotham City waving that fact directly in her face. So when the Red Hood shows up in Titans Tower, yammering about her being the “wrong Robin”, Steph is at her limit. And when the Red Hood reveals himself to be Jason Todd? She snaps.

Notes: You’re kidding yourself if you think Jason wasn’t Steph’s Robin. Also, no betcest here or ever

Angst Level: This one is significantly less humorous than all of the Steph-in-Titans-Tower fics I’ve read. Steph’s going through it, Jason’s going through it…everyone suffers before we get any joy. May evolve into a series

bite back

Starring: Akutagawa Gin, Akutagawa Ryuunosuke and an original character (also Atushi may feature eventually)

Ability users are a rumor, under the noses of most of society. But there’s a world even more secret than that of the ability users—the Supernaturals. Species with magic in their blood. (though there are magical humans)

The Akutagawa siblings never really knew their parents. And they didn’t know their family’s secret: their mother was a wolf shifter, a werewolf. The siblings’ wolf traits have been (mostly) invisible till now, due to unmet needs, an unsupportive environment, and a spell of their mother’s.

But all that changes when the Supernaturals reveal themselves to Yokohama’s Tripartite System, and a mysterious wolf shifter catches the siblings' scents…and recognizes them as her long-dead sister’s pups.

Notes: werewolves and pack dynamics go brrr

Angst: it’s the Akutagawa siblings. So yeah, it’s pretty damn angsty

finders keepers

Starring:Stephanie Brown, Dick Grayson, assorted batfam members

Inspired By: i don’t actually remember the fic

Dick Grayson has seen a lot of things in his undead life. But seeing a father leave use his own goddamn daughter out as bait still manages to shake him. Luckily, Bruce imparted in him one very important rule when it comes to children who lack or have unfit guardians…finders keepers. This is how he ends up with Stephanie Brown

Noted: found family yaaaayyyyyy

Angst Level: quite a bit, but there will be comfort

Girl Meets Bird

Starring: Barbara Gordon, Dick Grayson, Bruce Wayne, Kate Kane, with some Jim Gordon

Look, Babs didn’t mean to become a dark creature of the night…at least, not at first. At first, she just wanted to fight crime. In Gotham. At night. Whilst being twelve and mostly untrained.

Notes: cryptid batfam, but it’s early batfam, and follows Babs in her feral teenager era

Angst: Currently the least angsty idea on here.

Weapons No More

Starring: Cassandra Wayne and Kon-El, with some Bats

In most universes, Superboy spends his first years of life all but fending for himself. In this one, Cassandra Wayne was found earlier. And when Cass meets Superboy for the very first time, it feels like looking in a mirror. And if there’s one thing that being a Wayne has taught her, it’s to reach out a hand to a kid in need

Notes: Cass basically went “mine. My new family” on sight

Angst: we got clone angst, we got Cass angst we got teenage rebellion

the ruination of a moonflower

Starring: Ozaki Kouyou, Izumi Kyouka, and Nakahara Chuuya

Ozaki Kouyou knows that the Port Mafia is the only place for her. She’s poured years of effort, and pints of blood both hers and not, all to mold this organization into one she can be proud to be part of. And then suddenly Chuuya’s been attacked. And this wouldn’t have been a problem because her protégé can take care of himself just fine—except it is. It is a problem because now her little brother’s in a hospital bed and she doesn’t know what went wrong. It was supposed to be an easy mission. And now Kouyou revenge to enact. And then before she knows it…something’s changed. Somethings broken. And something has to give.

Notes: I have a whole-ass series planned for this one, and it’s a wild ride.

Angst: a lot. This one hurts, guys

[cipheramnesia]

Hey I'm not a big horror person myself, I get scared very easily, but you're telling me the overuse of cozy has extended to horror?

I genuinely don't know what or where cozy is going, but I decided to poke around and at least find out what it means. The simplest and easiest way to contextualize "cozy horror" is as modern folktales and campfire stories. It's a bit more complicated than all that, but that's kind of the foundations of it.

Alright, so first, my basic searching points to "The H Word: Getting Cozy with Horror" by José Cruz, published in Nightmare in 2021 as the place where it was coined, and seems to be what the few articles trying to define it point to. As far as I can tell, that site is offline, but you can read it archived here. Anyway, this thing breaks it down as "Familiar" (which seems to be primarily described as nostalgia), "Sensuous" (in the sense of stimulating senses - distinct from stimulating emotions), "Distant" (feeling insulated from the frightening elements, or safe), and "Fun" (meaning it tends to resolve without significant emotional or physical trauma). Some of that is me putting words in his mouth, so I'd encourage anyone interested to poke through the article. To me, his examples are what speak more directly. With the exception of "Night of the Creeps" he uses examples like Dracula, gothic horror, IT, the Goosebumps series, Creepshow, and the old Peter Cushing and Vincent Price 70s movies. These examples, to my eyes, all have something of the scary story that gets passed around between adolescents or as online urban legends and sometimes creepy pastas.

Anyway, as with any new idea there's the option of throwing it away and calling bullshit (generally my inclination with "elevated horror"), or taking it more at face value, which I'm a little more inclined towards with "cozy horror." For me, I suppose it's the way the core elements seem close to slightly more old fashioned "thrills and chills" horror that makes me charitably inclined - if you read the article, it's practically dripping with the abstract concept of "the good old days." And that serves as a solid foundation for quite a lot of horror. There's coming of age stories, updated vampire tales, folk horror of all ages, dark fairytales, sure. You know, it fills a useful spot, yeah? It may help that I'm coming from the perspective of a horror movie fan who very ardently seeks out dusturbing and transgressive movies or gouts of blood or warped flesh, without any interest in whether it makes me frightened, that it's easy to see how much enjoyment someone can get out of an evil murder clown which is safely defeated at the end of the day - just like it happens in Killer Klowns from Outer Space.

So it's not quite folktales, but it overlaps and next time a person talks about it you probably know the vibe. However. This subgenres has got a HUGE ASS or, put another way, a big but.

If you clicked through the article first, I imagine your reaction to the first few paragraphs might be something like mine, a knee jerk "this guy doesn't know what the fuck he's talking about." I think that's not correct, but after the cool off period, it's clear that he's either in some kind of a horror media social bubble, or he's not engaging with a lot of the genre. There's a kind of distastefulness about modern horror, described like a friend who changed into a pretentious stranger after college - as if modern horror has become all about emotional shock value, serious psychological torture porn. Which is not only unfair and incorrect, it's myopic. The ugly undercurrent to cozy horror is the overly pleasant and sickeningly kind suggestion that we don't need all this modernity, followed by the paternal recommendation that it's much better if we all just embrace the old traditions. And I don't think that's innate to cozy horror or cozy whatever, more that we don't always realize when we pull some ugly undercurrent of society up with an idea, and like when has horror not had problematic elements right? But there's no ignoring that a drive towards nostalgia, isolation, emotional suppression, and total safety can take a very bad turn in excess.

So that's cozy horror I figure. Interesting branch of folklore, but needs moderation like all things.

[gibberishfangirl]

JO TOGAME | but if you insist, then the next time she’s mine!

Synopsis ✰ guys don’t like jo togame cause their girlfriends do

Contains ✰ cheating, cocky!togame, reader has a boyfriend, oral (f!receiving), fingering, togame has long fingers, afab reader, doggy style, toga is huge sorry not sorry, recording, reader gets their picture taken, rough, no use of protection (wrap it before u tap irl pls), mix of praise and degradation, name calling, creampie, meanish-dom!togame, submissive!reader, 18+ / nsfw!

“ah-agh jo!” your voice cracked under pressure as togame’s lewd noises echoed across your room. your hips bucked into his face out of instinct as he harshly sucked on your sensitive clit. he’d been teasing you for what felt like forever. teasingly shoving his tongue in and out of you, loudly slurping up all your juices not letting a single drop go to waste. he thought the way you tried to fight back your moans and gasps was cute. he remembered the time when you would reject his offers despite becoming a blushing mess in his presence. now here you were, blushing and moaning as your hips twitched in response to his mouth on your cunt.

he placed a gentle kiss on your sweet pussy before replacing his tongue with his fingers. his giant body hid yours so perfectly as he rose up to meet your face. you felt embarrassed to meet his gaze as the loud wet sounds of your pussy being penetrated by his long fingers started to fill the room. “feel good princess?” he asked you, the gentle look in his eyes could’ve fooled you into believing that he loves you. Jo let out a small tsk sound after you responded with nothing. you couldn’t bring yourself to answer with the truth. if you weren’t going to answer on your own, he might just need to find a way to make you.

he leaned forward to trap your breasts into his mouth, roughly biting and sucking on your nipples. a gasp escaped your lips only to be turned into a yelp by his sudden pace shift. his fingers were pounding in and out of you in such a lewd way that made your pussy scream. a series of ‘squelch squelch’ escaped from your cunt at every motion of his fingers. “agh- yes! yes! feels so good. so good. i promise.” you felt your eyes water at the amount of pure bliss he was able to give you. “better than him?” he asked. him. a rush of heat hit your face. heat that stems from a series of emotions such as anger, frustration, embarrassment, and guilt. “don’t-“ “don’t what? let you finish?” his actions came to a halt.

“stop.” “stop what?” “being mean.” he couldn’t help the small scoff that came out of his mouth. him mean? when you have your legs spread out for the man your boyfriend hates the most. funny. nonetheless, he stopped for your sake. you still liked to think you were a good person and who was he to tell you otherwise. you hated the way a whine escaped your lips as his fingers left your hole. you clenched around nothing, forming a small pout on your face. “don’t be sad. i’ll give you what you want… like always.” Jo spoils you, that’s something you both were fully aware of. your boyfriend never satisfied you or cared much about your needs in the bedroom. being with someone who did made your heart race.

Jo placed a soft kiss on your lips. not too harshly, kissing you as if you were made out of glass. completely different from the way he usually rails you. his hands were so huge against your waist, almost covering up your torso as he turned you over on your hands and knees. “gimme your phone.” he kissed the back of your shoulder as his hand was reaching over to your phone. “hm? why?” you asked sweetly. your sweet eyes looking back at him without a single thought in them. how cute… you were already so lost before he even got the chance to fuck you the way he wants. “gotta record my pretty girl.” he didn’t miss the way your face turned red.

your stomach fluttered, you were unsure of why. if it was because of the way he called you his pretty girl, his, or because of you secretly loved the idea of being recorded. “kay.” you mumbled as you tried to hide your face from him to stop anymore visual shyness. Jo loved this part. he was so glad he finally got to capture his favorite moment. the way his thick cock stretched out your pretty tight pussy. the amount of whines and tears that escaped you as he did so. he loved to tease you by slowly inserting himself inch by inch… spreading you to his liking. pulling himself out as soon as he got half way in just to repeat the process of it all over again.

“jo! st-oh my-stop teasing me—“ you begged impatiently as you arched your back further against him. you looked so cute to him as you searched for more pleasure. after you turned your head to look at him with pleading eyes he couldn’t hold back anymore. he slammed his hips against yours at a harsh speed. your jaw dropped to let out a scream only to be cut off by a kiss. your teeth clashed against his as he hungrily kissed you. you couldn’t concentrate. the sound of skin slapping skin clouded your thoughts mixed with the pleasure and pain that was coming from him penetrating you roughly with no remorse. you had to tore yourself away from the rough kissing in effort to get yourself together. you couldn’t do anything besides moan and scream. not wanting this to ever end.

“this what you wanted? love to get fucked this way. such a sweet looking girl who loves to get fucked like a dirty slut hmm?” his voice mocking you “look at you moaning like a little slut. just for me right?” “yesyes just for you. promise.” you couldn’t stop yourself as you moaned as if you were some kind of animal in heat. Jo ended the recording tossing your phone to the side. wanting to soak in every moment he had with you. soak in every sound you made and the pleasure he received himself as he buried his dick so deeply into you.

your hand instinctively reached behind making contact with his abs. you weakly pushed him away as an effort to get him to calm down his pace. an effort that went to waste as he simply grabbed your hand and intertwined it with his. your strength didn’t even hold a candle to his. tears of pleasure threatened to leak out of your eyes as he shoved your head down. you felt him so deep inside of you, completely different than what you were used to. thank goodness he relaxed his pace but this new position had him hitting your sweet spot so well. his pace might’ve relaxed but his thrusts were as harsh as ever. your eyes rolled back as you felt your pussy gush around him, squeezing him so tightly as you released yourself on him. it happened so fast you couldn’t even realize that you were so close. your legs trembled almost losing all feeling in them. the only thing keeping you up was his strong grip on your waist.

“it’s okay. just relax pretty girl, i can do all the work.” he placed another kiss on your shoulder before working through his own orgasm. he let out a groan as he looked down and noticed the creamy white ring your pussy was leaving on his length. you were so sensitive you felt another orgasm of your own building right up. your tummy felt hot as you felt yourself clenching around him once more. it took one last hard thrust for both you finish at the same time, your whole body was shaking this time around as your toes curled. none of your orgasms ever felt this good… well, it wasn’t like your own boyfriend knew how to make you finish.

Jo let out a whine as he watched his seed spill out of your pussy. it was overflown by both of your juices mixed together. he grabbed a phone, his phone this time, to take a quick picture of the aftermath of your pussy being destroyed. a flushed red color with white creamy substance spilling out of it. you couldn’t even be bothered to scold him for taking a picture of your used pussy like you usually would. you were so worn out that all you could do was lay there and catch your breath. you let out a cry as you felt his long fingers catch the white sticky substance that leaked out of you and shoved it right back into you. his fingers slowly and gently fucking it all right back into your pussy. Jo was mesmerized by the view, somewhat imagining what it would be like to have this view every night. not just on a random occasion.

“sorry. forgot you get so sensitive.” he snapped out of his trance as he felt your hips tremble underneath his touch. he placed soft kisses down your back as he cleaned you up with some tissues from the first drawer of your nightstand. the way he knew your room layout said enough about the random relationship you two had. he fought back as a laugh as he realized he’s probably been in your room more times than your actual boyfriend has. your boyfriend. right, the guy who wasn’t him. he covered you with your blanket and he threw on his shirt getting ready to leave before you grabbed his arm. “where you going? stay.” you whined. you were clearly still tired and sleepy from sex. but you needing him made his heart melt a little. you had never asked him to stay before. did he really fuck you that good to the point where you became deluded? not that he minded.

“you want me to stay?” “duh.” you sighed as you wrapped your arms around his torso laying your head on his chest. before he could say anything else you were sound asleep. he knew this wouldn’t last long but he figured he should enjoy it while he still can. after all, he did have a crush on you for all these years. he hated seeing you at every party with your boyfriend. maybe if things continue to go well for you two you’ll finally leave him. a man can dream can’t he?

[sorryitsmyfirstdayonearth]

Last (Sam Winchester x female reader)

It was never supposed to happen. But this is the last time. It has to be.

Read it on AO3

My 2024 Kinktober series

Rated E. 1.1k words. Cheating (kind of the worst kind). Secrets. Grief. Temptation.

The sheets rustle behind you when Sam sits up, and from the way he sounds you can tell he’s leaning forward, long outstretched legs slightly angled, elbows resting on knees. You know the white sheet must have slipped off him far enough to reveal his chest, his arms, the tan skin and the hair on both, the feeling of it ghosting under your fingertips.

You know that he’s staring at the back of your head with those sweet, dark eyes. Guilt probably making him feel sick to his stomach as well.

You’re sitting on the edge of the bed and your hand goes up to wipe at the tears you started crying after you woke up. You wait for Sam to say something, but he doesn’t.

“This was the last time,” you say, not turning to him. Your voice sounds thick from the tears, but you don’t care. “I can’t do this anymore.” Sam’s quiet for a moment before he answers.

“I know,” he says.

“It’s not right,” you add, and he only repeats it. You bite your lip in the hope it will stop new tears from flowing.

“If he’s…” you start, but can’t continue, the thought too horrible.

“He can never know,” Sam says, voice final. Sam’s moral, always tries to do the right thing, but he knows how tremendously he has fucked up. He knows there’s no path that leads to being able to justify this, even if his brother is out there howling at the moon with Crowley. There is no explanation, nothing that can ever make this right.

So, he has decided, a lie is, in this case, the best and only solution. Because he could not stand it if Dean ever finds out. He wouldn’t survive it. And neither would Dean.

You turn around, look at Sam. In the low light of the room, Sam can see the glistening trail of tears on your cheeks. You’re naked, and somehow the bunker’s sterile light makes it look like you’re bathed in moonlight. Sam can’t stop his eyes from flickering down to your breasts, remembering how just a little while ago he wrapped his lips around your nipple and you arched up at him, ran your hand into the thick hair at the back of his neck to pull him closer.

He blinks a few times, tries to shake himself out of the memory. You are still looking at him.

“If he comes back… if we can heal him…” you start, but then stop again. It’s not like either of you hasn’t said the same thing a million times. Grief over Dean’s death and then relief that he wasn’t dead has thrown you both for a loop. You’ve both been on edge for weeks, too little sleep, too much caffeine. Too much fear. That you can’t get Dean back, or worse, that he will come back, but as he is now. A demon.

That he’ll come back and you save him and that he finds out.

It wasn’t until one night not so long ago that Sam decided he needed assistance to sleep, which was when you found him drinking in the library. Your first instinct was to stop him, but there was no point, so you joined him instead. You didn’t have the energy for anything else, not with Dean out there, doing God knows what. God knows who.

You want to scoff at yourself, at the fact that he is a demon and your biggest worry is that he is with other women. The thought of it, of the gold band on your finger not meaning anything anymore, that he is out there, back to his old ways…

No. No, you tell yourself, don’t lie. Is that really your greatest worry? That he’s sleeping around? Or are you just trying to justify what you have been doing? Trying to justify why only an hour earlier you were on your back, ass at the foot of the bed, body covered in a sheen of sweat, one of your legs hooked over Sam’s elbow while your husband’s brother fucked you without abandon?

Is this the payback? The payback for what Dean might be doing? Not even Dean. This demon inside of him. You don’t want to think like that, don’t want to be this petty, but your brain keeps grasping at things to justify yourself. All it lands on is the image of your fingernails scratching down Sam’s thick biceps, begging him to fuck you harder while he lowers his head to suck a mark into your neck in response.

A mark. The irony isn’t lost on you.

Neither of you is sure who made the first move that night in the library, who cracked first. Who was more desperate, lonelier. Maybe it doesn’t matter. Maybe you stopped caring the moment Sam pushed you down on the table, held you in place and slammed himself into you, your mind blissfully emptied by the fullness he provided.

You’ve ended up like this most nights since. You both tell yourselves you need this, that it helps you focus. It’s a lie. You don’t know what it is.

The good thing, and the horrible thing at the same time, is that it’s the only time you don’t think about Dean. Not the bad parts, not the good parts. And maybe that is the real betrayal. That you and Sam are together, the two people closest to Dean, who are supposed to love him the most, and you don’t think about him. You only think about each other. Bodies moving in the dark, gasps and moans and heads filled with nothing but the want for more.

Sam is sitting there, beautiful and sad. You swallow and then you crawl onto the bed. Kneel naked before him, chest rising and falling slowly.

“This was the last time,” you say, just like you do every night. Sam nods, and then he reaches for you. Drags you towards him, runs his hands all over, your lips meet, roughly, desperately.

This is the last time, you repeat in your head.

His fingers find your wetness and you work yourself down on him while he watches you, sees your face contort and your body squirm. He wonders if you look the same when Dean touches you, and then he stops thinking about anyone else, fills his mind with you.

This is the last time.

You ride Sam, him sitting up, large hand splayed over your back. The other hand goes up to brush your hair out of your face and the gentleness of it nearly undoes you.

This is the last time.

One of these nights, it will be. And it will be because Dean is back, because you’ve saved him. The other option is too horrible, too terrifying. You can’t think about it.

But then Sam makes you forget and you make him forget and at least for a little while, you are free.

[mischievouslittlecreature]

Part 1: Hidden Devotions

Summary: Tommy and Lucy get a chance to speak to each other, and Lucy does her best to warn the Targaryens of the man poised to marry the heir to the throne.

Word Count: 5,924

Warnings: References to torture, incest, and violence.

Notes: Heavenerys and Amos belong to @call-sign-shark, and Rose Tyrell, Jared II Stark, and the other Stark boys belong to @justrainandcoffee.

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Chapter 2: What Dragons Dream Of

The early morning air was crisp against Tommy’s cheeks, a slight breeze ruffling at his hair. 

He tugged his cloak tighter around his shoulders, grateful that the Boltons had thought to provide them with some additional clothing more suited to the northern elements than their own. If he was indeed to start regularly making the trip up here to check on Heavenerys, he was going to need to get a whole new wardrobe for such occasions. 

Beneath his hand, he felt Syndor’s side flex with a snort. Seeming to sense that he was chilled, the dragon’s tail curled against the grass, bumping gently against the back of Tommy’s legs to try to draw him closer to his warm side. 

Tommy chuckled, leaning his cheek against his dragon’s inky scales, closing his eyes at the pleasant burn of them, the cold quickly banished from his bones. 

“Thank you, Syndor,” he said in High Valyrian. A purr rumbled from the dragon’s chest in response, his nose nuzzling at Tommy affectionately.

Tommy smiled, giving him a few strokes along his great side, just enjoying the warmth and comfort of being alone with his dragon. No distrusting eyes staring at him. No whispers behind his back when the utterers thought he couldn’t hear. No judgement burning into his skin.

He sighed, opening his eyes. Giving Syndor one final pat, he pulled away.

“I’ll come see you later,” he promised. Syndor chirped at him in understanding, curling up on the grass. He looked like an enormous, scaled black cat whenever he did that. Happy and content to doze in a patch of sunlight, a slight twitch wracking through his limbs every once in a while as he dreamed of whatever it was that dragons dreamed of.  

Tommy passed a few of the other dragons, most still slumbering soundly, on his way back to the Dreadfort’s gates. He felt awful leaving them out in the cold like this. Even if they did not seem to mind it. 

He stepped through the gates and into the courtyard, glancing around. It was early enough that most of the castle seemed to still be asleep. Not that he minded; it was good to have some time to himself before another day that was likely to be full of meetings and mingling.

Making his way back inside, he slipped off his leather gloves, rubbing his hands together against the cold. He stopped a bustling serving girl to point him in the direction of the library, following her instructions up a quick climb of the stairs and through a few winding hallways until he was pushing open huge oak double doors. 

He was greeted with dozens upon dozens of shelves, each stuffed near to bursting with books. Letting the doors swing shut behind him, Tommy picked one aisle at random to walk down, eyes sliding over the vast assortment of spines detailing practically every subject imaginable, perusing lazily for something that might catch his attention. He was impressed. Though it had nothing on the library in the Red Keep, it was still a surmountable collection. 

There was a sudden loud, heavy thud from a few rows over, followed by several more, and a soft, irritated mumbling. 

“Oh, for fuck’s sake…”

Tommy raised an eyebrow, following the noise to find the tiny Lady Lucilla between two stacks, attempting to balance an armful of books almost as big as her. A few had fallen from her grasp to land on the floor around her. She huffed, attempting to reach down to pick up the books even with the rest still in her arms. 

With quick steps, Tommy walked down the aisle to her, bending to help gather up the fallen books. Her shoulders stiffened at the sound of his footsteps, eyes remaining downcast towards the floor. 

“I swear, if you get on my ass about this too, I will–” she began to say, but immediately stopped, eyes growing wide as saucers and jaw falling open when her gaze finally lifted to meet his. Tommy felt his eyebrow twitch upwards again, fighting back an amused grin.

“No, no, go on. It’s not everyday that I’m so casually threatened.”   

“Prince Thomaryon…I am so sorry!” she stammered, cheeks turning the same shade as her hair. “I thought you were someone else.”

“It’s alright.” He reached for another of the fallen books.

“You don’t have to do that. I can manage,” Lucilla tried to insist, still looking adorably flustered. Tommy shook his head. 

“Nonsense. I don’t mind.” When he raised his eyes to her, it was to find Lucilla watching him, her blush seeming to grow when their gazes met. 

Tommy swallowed hard. She was even more beautiful up close than when she had first caught his eye in the courtyard yesterday. A tiny thing, somehow even shorter and more petite than Heavenerys. Slender, but curved in all the right places, with long red hair that fell in tousled waves down her back. Her fair skin was smattered with freckles even more numerous than his own, her eyes a warm, shining sunset brown.

But beneath the soft, wide-eyed expression, he could see a hint of the stern hardness that had been emblazoned on her face yesterday. A look which had only deepened when she and Amos had briefly made eye contact when he introduced her to Heavenerys. It seemed to be a common expression here in the north; a result of the harsh elements and distrust that seemed to permeate throughout the region. 

The northmen were a hard, wild people. They would do well to remember that. 

The Red Demon of the Dreadfort. That was what they called her. It was unclear how exactly the nickname had come about. During a break when they were flying up from King’s Landing, Aeda had started spinning stories about how Lucilla Bolton got the title because of her role as one of the Dreadfort’s torturers. That it was said screams would echo from the bowels of the deepest dungeons of the castle whenever the red haired lady would descend into their depths to convene with the poor souls who had been dragged before her. Some said that the screaming was so loud, villagers residing along the Weeping Water could hear it. And at the end of each session, Lucilla Bolton would emerge from the bowels of the castle, covered head to toe in blood as red as her hair.  

But one look in her eyes, and Tommy knew that could not be all there was to the story. Even if there was any truth in it, some significant detail had been left out; the picture left incomplete. Those were not the eyes of a soulless torturer. There was too much warmth in them.

“So,” he said, quickly looking away, realizing that he had been staring. “Are you checking all of these out…?”

“Returning, actually,” she straightened up, sliding a book into the shelf. Tommy finished gathering the remaining ones that had fallen to the floor, following her as she began to wander through the stacks, returning each book to its proper place. “Thank you. And I’m sorry again for…”

“Don’t worry about it.”

She cast him a shy smile, and he felt a slight swoop in his stomach that he tried to ignore. Fuck, she was pretty. 

“How are you finding the north, my prince?”

“Cold.”

She hummed in sympathy. “I imagine it’s quite grim compared to the capitol.”

“Have you ever been to King’s Landing?”

“No.”

He frowned. “Not even when you came of age?” Many children of the noble houses came to the capitol to be presented at court, usually with the intention of finding a wife or husband if they were not already betrothed. 

Lucilla shook her head. “My father wouldn’t permit it.”

Tommy cocked his head. That made sense, he supposed. Had she been presented at court, he was sure he would have remembered her. “He wouldn’t?”

“No.” 

“Why not?”

“I’m not sure. I don’t think that he thought anyone would be interested in the daughter of a second son.” She adjusted the books in her arms, an uncomfortable look crossing her face. “Anyway…the furthest south I’ve ever been is to Highgarden. But I was so little, I barely remember any of it.”

“What were you doing in Highgarden?” 

Lucilla stretched up onto her toes, trying to shove a book into a shelf above her head. Tommy took it from her, sliding it back into place. She cast him a thankful look.

“Something about Amos going to ward there. But the arrangement fell through while we were there.”

“Lord Tyrell chose the Baratheon boy instead.” Tommy was only vaguely aware of the incident. Something to do with Amos’s temper getting the better of him and causing Lord Tyrell to send him away. 

“That’s right.” A wistful look entered Lucilla’s eyes. “I’d like to go back there someday. I still write to Lady Rose, sometimes.”

“Lady Rose is a kind woman,” Tommy had not yet met her himself, but word of Highgarden’s most treasured flower had spread far and wide across the realm.

“Yes,” Lucilla agreed. “But usually Riverrun is as far south as we travel.”

“Your mother is a Tully.”

“That’s right.” She slid the last of her books into its proper place on the shelves.

“Well…” Tommy hesitated, momentarily worried that what he was about to suggest might be a little too forward. “Heavenerys and Lord Bolton will be expected to travel to King’s Landing from time to time to make appearances at court. Perhaps you and your family can join them, sometime.”

Something flickered in Lucilla’s eyes, a soft smile finding its way onto her lips. “I would like that.”

Tommy was suddenly deeply aware of just how close they were standing, their chests practically brushing. It wasn’t often that he found himself so much taller than someone. The top of her head barely came up to his chin. If he didn’t know any better, he would have thought that he noticed her eyes lingering on his chest. 

“I’m sorry,” Lucilla cleared her throat awkwardly. “I’m being so rude. Were you looking for something in particular here? The Maester isn’t usually in this early in the morning…” 

Tommy gave a shake of his head. “I was just looking around to pass the time.”

“Why were you up so early?” she asked, head cocking curiously. “If you don’t mind me asking,” she added quickly. 

“I like the quiet of the mornings. It’s a good time to think. And I wanted to check on the dragons before breakfast.”

Her eyes lit up at the mention of the dragons. “How are they doing?”

“They’re fine.”

Her hands, empty of books now, started fiddling with the few plain gold rings she was wearing. “I’m sorry that we don’t have anywhere better than the field to put them.”

“It’s alright. Truth be told, I think it’s good for them to be out in the open for a while, rather than cooped up in the dragon pit back home.”

She looked like she wanted to ask him something, but decided against it. “Well,” she glanced towards the door, “if you’re hungry, breakfast ought to be finally ready about now. And I expect Amos and my father will both be awake. Even if no one else is.”

“Alright.” He followed her out of the library and down the hall, letting her guide the way to the great hall. “Thank you for keeping me company this morning,” he told her as they descended down the stairs. Lucilla gave him another one of those shy, sweet smiles. 

“Thank you for saving me from my mountain of books.”

He had to push down another smile, momentarily puzzled at how many times he’d had to do so since encountering her in the library. It felt so…easy to be around her. He could not even have begun to explain why. She was a Bolton. Practically a complete stranger. He should have felt wary at best when it came to being alone with her.

“Amos and the princess seem quite pleased with each other,” Lucilla remarked as they walked.

“You sound surprised.”

“Amos hasn’t been interested in marriage at all. He refused every match brought before him until he was offered the future queen.” Her fingers were twisting at her rings again. “I’ve never seen him so…taken with someone before.”

Tommy cocked his head, still trying to puzzle out the details regarding the clear animosity between Lord Bolton and Lucilla. “You and him don’t get along.” It wasn’t a question, but she answered it anyway.

“No. Not since I was a child.”

“Why?”

Her pace slowed, shoulders tensing, jaw setting as though it were locking tight around the answer to his question.  

“Lady Lucilla?” Tommy pressed. 

“It’s not a pleasant topic of conversation.” An odd, faraway look crossed her beautiful features, as though her mind was somewhere else. Locked in some haunting, dark memory that had the color draining a little from her cheeks, the warm light flickering out in her eyes.

They came to a stop at a door leading into the great hall, her small hand enclosing around the knob. Before she could turn it, Tommy reached out, wrapping his fingers around her upper arm, turning her gently to face him. He tried to ignore the way something tightened in his chest at the feeling of the warmth from her body even through the layers of her dress. 

She looked up at him, eyes wide. She had lovely, full pink lips. Despite being chapped a little from the dry air of the north, they looked soft. 

For fuck’s sake. Focus. He forced himself to swallow around his desires. Lucilla was staring up at him, confliction apparent in her face.

“What…?” he began to ask, but the sound of approaching footsteps had Lucilla quickly drawing away from him, a half frightened look crossing her face before it was wiped from her features, replaced instead by that tensing of her jaw, defiance already starting to simmer in her eyes. Like she was preparing for an argument. 

“Prince Thomaryon. Lucilla,” Lord Amos Bolton said, dark eyes gleaming when he caught sight of them. “How surprising to see you together.”

“Good morning, Amos,” Lucilla greeted her cousin.

“What are you doing?” Amos asked, eyes narrowing at her scrutinizingly, shifting between her and Tommy suspiciously. 

Lucilla’s hands had clasped together in front of herself, gripping each other so tight her knuckles were turning white. “I…”

“I got lost,” Tommy interrupted quickly, flashing Amos a bashful smile, “trying to find my way to the great hall from the library. Lady Lucilla was kind enough to rescue me.”

Amos raised an eyebrow. “Is that so?” He was still eying Lucilla questioningly. She shifted from foot to foot. 

“Just trying to be a good host, Amos,” she murmured.  

Amos frowned. “How unlike you, Lucilla.”

She managed a weak smile. “Even I know to be on my best behavior when dragons are about, cousin.” She opened the door to the great hall, shuffling aside. “After you, my prince. My lord.”

Tommy gestured for Amos to go first. Once the lord had swept into the hall, he cast another curious glance Lucilla’s way.

“Thank you,” she whispered, almost inaudibly, eyes still watching Amos warily where he was moving to sit beside Victor Bolton, already seated and eating his porridge.

“Of course,” Tommy murmured in reply, deciding that now was not a good time to try to pry further into her problems with her cousin. He shot her a half teasing look. “Are you not normally a good host?”

With Amos a good distance away, some of the tension seemed to drain out of her face. Enough so that she was able to manage a small, mischievous smirk. 

“Oh, don’t you know, my prince? No matter what I do, I will ever get their approval. I’m the outcast of the family.”

He felt his lips pull upwards a fraction. Ah. Perhaps that was why he felt such kinship with her. 

“So am I.”

∗ ∗ ∗

Dinner was a quieter affair than it had been last night. Only members of house Bolton and Targaryen occupied the great hall, so that the families could get to know each other better without any distractions from the other houses. A few stood to mingle or swap seats as the meal went on, and soon the buzz of multiple conversations was flowing naturally throughout the hall.

Lucy sat at her spot next to Teddy at the high table, sipping her wine and humming along to whatever it was her brother was talking to her about. She wasn’t really listening. Her mind had been distracted all day, endlessly replaying the encounter in the library with Prince Thomaryon. The blue of his eyes staring piercingly back at her. The deep rumble of his voice. The way his lips kept twitching up at the edges as if he were suppressing a smile. The warmth of his hand through the thick layers of her dress when he touched her arm. 

“Lucy?”

“Hm?”

Teddy poked her. “You’re not listening to a word I’m saying.”

She opened her mouth to argue, but then closed it. There really was no point in trying to pretend. 

“Sorry.”

Her little brother–even though he was only a year younger than her, she would always think of him that way–cocked his head. His shaggy blonde hair fell into his face, that mischievous glow that was almost always present in his eyes starting to burn more earnestly. “What is it that’s gotten you so distracted all day?”    

Lucy wriggled in her seat, gaze darting across the great hall to where Thomaryon was sitting before she could stop herself. As if sensing her looking at him, the prince’s eyes shifted to fix on hers. She quickly looked away, feeling her cheeks warm. Beside her, having followed her gaze, Teddy grinned. 

“Ah.”

“Shut up.”

“I didn’t say a thing.” He raised his wine glass to his lips, grin broadening. “Can’t really blame you though.” His voice dropped conspiratorially. “Those blue eyes of his really are something.”

“I ran into him in the library this morning. He’s nice,” that last part came out as a whisper.

Her brother rested his chin on his palm, eyes still dancing with amusement, but something more analytical had entered them as well, appraising her face in a way that made her shift nervously.

“What?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smitten before.”

“I am not–”

“That blush you’re sporting says otherwise.”

She swallowed hard, frowning. “I barely even know him.”

“So?” Teddy smirked at her. “He keeps looking over here at you.”

She chanced a quick glance back across the hall to find that he was right. Thomaryon was indeed staring at her, but this time when their gazes met, neither of them immediately looked away. Thomaryon raised an eyebrow, one side of his lips tugging up. 

Hi, his eyes seemed to say.     

Lucy offered him a small smile in return. Hello.

“You should go over there and talk to him,” Teddy said in her ear. She pulled her eyes away from Thomaryon to fix back upon her brother.

“No.” Her hands fidgeted with each other, twisting at her rings. “I’m sure that he’s had more than enough conversation with me for one day.”

“I highly doubt that.”

“Oh you do, do you? And why’s that?”

Teddy grinned. “‘Cos he’s coming over right now.”

She felt her eyes widen, panic momentarily seizing her. “What–!?”

Teddy smirked, picking up his goblet. “If you do manage to snare him, I don’t suppose you’d consider sharing, would you?”

“Theodan!”

“I’m only kidding! Mostly. Good luck!” He shot her a wink, then stood from his seat and sauntered away to go speak with Prince Jon in one of the far corners of the hall.

Lucy drew in a shaky breath to try to steady herself, looking up when the prince’s shadow fell across her. The expression on his face was almost shy. 

“Lady Lucilla. Good evening.”

“Good evening, Prince Thomaryon.”

He nodded to the vacant seat next to her. “May I…?”

She nodded, hoping that she didn’t come across as too eager. “Yes, yes, of course.”

He sank into the chair, setting his goblet down onto the table.

“How was your first day at the Dreadfort?” she asked. “I heard that you were meeting with my father and cousin earlier.” The three of them had disappeared after breakfast to speak in Amos’s study. Something about discussing the structure of the court and small council once Heavenerys and Amos had been crowned. 

“It was alright,” he shrugged. “Productive.”

“Will you be remaining as Hand of the King?” Her eyes fixated on the pin clipped to the left side of his chest, glinting slightly in the dim candlelight. He had been appointed to the position during Pollyanna’s regency, and by all accounts had taken to the role as though he were born for it. 

“Yes. We discussed it, and Amos wants to keep me on.”

“That must be a relief.”

“Yes, it is,” he admitted. “We weren’t sure if Amos would want to name your father to the position instead.”

“Ah,” she couldn’t help but chuckle a little at the suggestion, even though she understood why they might have thought that. “Lucky for you, I don’t think that Amos is as fond of my father as he might initially appear.”

Thomaryon cocked his head. “Really? I thought that Lord Victor was his primary advisor and mentor after Lord Bolton’s father died.”

“He was. But I think Amos prefers to keep him at arm's length. He…” she frowned, struggling to put the relationship into words, “he knows my father is loyal. And useful. But I don’t think he carries particular affection for him.” It was perhaps one of a few things that she and her cousin had in common.

“But your father cares for him.”

“Yes,” she looked away. “He is the first born son that he never had.” It was impossible to keep the bitterness entirely out of her voice. 

Thomaryon reached out, hesitated, and then brushed his thick fingers across her knuckles to draw her attention back to him. Lucy swallowed harshly at just how much bigger his hand was compared to hers. It wasn’t until their eyes met that he seemed to even realize what he was doing, quickly snatching his hand back and leaving her to mourn the loss of his burning touch. 

“About earlier…” Thomaryon cleared his throat awkwardly. “My questions about you and Amos…I apologize if I overstepped…”

Lucy shook her head quickly. “It’s alright.”

The prince relaxed, face softening a little. “If there ever is anything that you feel you ought to tell myself or my family, you are always welcome to. Anything you say will be taken into confidence, and no punishment will come to you. You have my word.”

You don’t know my family very well, she thought sadly, but smiled at him for the gesture. All day, she had agonized over whether or not she should say something to one of them. If she did warn them regarding what they were sending Heavenerys into, and word got back to Amos that it was her who spoke up, the consequences would be dire.

But…could she really live with herself if she said nothing, and left the princess to walk into the jaws of a rabid dog potentially unawares?

She met Thomaryon’s gaze. There was something warm there, despite the icy blue of his eyes. She could not have entirely said why, but she felt safe with him. She did not doubt that he would make good on his promise of protection if that was what it came to. 

“You’ve heard the rumors about him,” she started to say, slowly. “About this place.”

“Yes.”

“And yet you promised her to him anyway.” That was the one thing she could not understand. Amos’s reputation was no secret. He wore it proudly. They had to know what he was. Why would they have offered him the future queen’s hand, and by extension one of the most powerful seats in the entire kingdom, if they were aware of all that? 

“Heavenerys is certain that she can handle him.”

“Can she?”

“Yes, I believe she can.” 

“Even if everything the rumors say about him is true?”

Thomaryon cocked his head. “My cousin is no shrinking violet. She’s more than capable of protecting herself. And she has Kairaxès at her side.”

Lucy nodded. The enormous, frost-scaled dragon was a formidable, legendary creature. She certainly would not want to risk his blue flames or sharp teeth if she was Amos. 

“He’s going to be king,” she said softly, her last hopes that the arrangement would fall through slowly dying, glancing across the room to where Amos was standing next to Heavenerys, close enough for their sides to be brushing while they conversed with her father. 

“Lucilla,” Thomaryon leaned forward, an urgency in his face. His voice lowered. “Lord Bolton may be poised to be king, but I have no intention of handing over our dynasty or all of our power to him. Heavenerys will still be queen, and myself and members of my family will continue sit on the small council.”

Lucy let her arm rest on the table, her fingers but inches away from his, aching to reach out and recapture the comfort that the warmth of his brief touch had brought her earlier, but not brave enough to actually do so. She nodded, letting his words sink in and soothe some of her worries. 

“Just…be careful with him,” she murmured. 

Thomaryon nodded. “We will.”

She let out a deep sigh of relief at knowing he had taken her warnings seriously and understood what he was dealing with. And yet…

“I feel as though I should say something to the princess as well…” 

Thomaryon shrugged. “You can, if you like.” He glanced over at where Heavenerys was still standing with Amos. Her arms were linked with his, smiling up at him adoringly. “But it won’t change anything.”

Lucy had to agree with him on that front. Amos was looking at Heavenerys with a similar expression of adoration splitting his face. Lucy shook her head. She barely recognized him. Never before had she seen him so…happy.

“We had to marry her to a northman,” Thomaryon explained, swirling the wine in his goblet lazily. 

“The people have been growing restless up here,” she concurred. 

“Yes. And with your house’s recent amassing of power, alongside how formidable the Starks already are, my aunt is worried about rebellions.”

“Why didn’t you marry her to one of the Stark boys?”

“Word is that Jared II is not particularly interested in the company of women, and the other two are already betrothed.”

“And I don’t imagine that the queen was all too interested in marrying the princess off to a house of any lesser standing than ours,” Lucy concluded.

“That’s right.”

She hummed, still watching Amos and Heavenerys, trying to discern if either of them were faking the love that seemed to be sparking between them. “Perhaps it will end up being a good match and I’m worrying for nothing.”

“Perhaps.” 

She looked back at Thomaryon to find him still gazing at her. The warm intensity of his eyes had her heart skipping a beat, warmth finding its way back to her cheeks. She opened her mouth, intending to change the subject to something more pleasant, when a voice interrupted. 

“Prince Thomaryon,” her father said, a hand landing on the back of her chair. Lucy felt her spine go rigid, jaw setting in a grimace at the unwanted presence. “So sorry to interrupt, but if you have a moment, I want to introduce you to my son, Elyas.”

Thomaryon frowned, looking like he was about to protest.

“That’s alright,” Lucy said quickly, knowing that if he refused his request, it would only cause a fuss between her and her father later. He’d probably accuse her of holding the prince hostage with her silly, boring little stories. “I’m sure that I’m boring the poor prince to tears anyway,” she managed a weak smile. Her father merely scowled at her before turning his expectant face back to Thomaryon.

The prince looked back at her, frowning a little, still looking conflicted. 

Please, just do what he wants. It’s easier, that way, she silently pleaded.

Whether he read the message in her eyes or not, Thomaryon stood, albeit reluctantly. “Alright.” But before departing with her father, he reached out, taking Lucy’s hand in his, and lifted it to press a quick kiss to the back of her palm. Lucy’s eyes widened at the softness of his lips against her skin. “It was lovely getting to speak with you, Lucilla,” he murmured, letting her hand go. 

“You as well, my prince,” she managed to stutter out. He gave her a small smile, lashes lowered slightly, light from the candles reflecting in his ice colored eyes. Her heart felt as though it was doing backflips in her chest, cradling the hand he had kissed to her chest as if she could infinitely hold the memory of his lips on her skin. Her father led him impatiently away, already saying something about his hopes that there may be a place for Elyas at court someday. Lucy cringed, feeling vaguely ill at the idea. She had been so focused on warning Thomaryon about Amos, she had not even gotten a chance to offer him a heads up regarding her brothers. 

“Cockblock,” Teddy muttered scowling at the back of their father’s head, coming up to stand beside her. “Ow!” he complained upon her elbowing him in the side.

“You’re going to get me into trouble,” she scolded halfheartedly while he retook his seat next to her. It wasn’t like she needed anymore of that. She already got hollered at for things enough as it was. 

Teddy flashed her a smile, as if he knew something that she didn’t. “Oh, sweet sister. Based on the way that he looks at you, I think you already are.”  

∗ ∗ ∗

Tommy rapped his knuckles against the wooden door leading into Heavenery’s chambers impatiently. It took only a moment for the door to be opened not by Heavenerys, but by Polly. 

“What do you want?” his aunt asked, looking puzzled at his presence. 

“I need to speak with Hev about something.”

She raised an eyebrow, but stepped aside to let him in. Heavenerys was sitting on a loveseat near the fire, working to undo the intricate braids her hair had been styled in for the day. 

“Hello, Tommy,” she greeted him warmly. “What’s going on? Is it Aerthurys?”

He sighed. It had been his and Jon’s job to keep their older brother from losing his damned mind during their time at the Dreadfort. Ever since Heavenerys’s betrothal to Amos had been announced, their older brother had been teetering on a ledge, moments away from spiraling into madness.

Tommy understood, to some level. Aerthurys had loved Heavenerys since they were children. It had to be agonizing for him to watch her be wrenched from his side and married to another man. But that did not stop Tommy from wishing that he could get a damned grip over himself. They may be royalty, but none of them were above duty. They had known that this day would come eventually. Polly had made it clear from the beginning that they would not be partaking in the tradition of incest that their family had enacted in the past. They needed to strengthen their ties with the other houses across the realm, and dilute some of the madness and sickness which generations of inbreeding had wrought upon them. 

Tommy struggled to understand how Aerthurys had not properly prepared himself for this moment. But then again, if he had any sense at all, his brother wouldn’t have gotten involved with their cousin in the first place.

“No,” he reassured, taking a seat across from Heavenerys, “it’s not Aerthurys.”

She tipped her head curiously. Polly sat down next to her. “So what is it?”

He hesitated, choosing his words carefully. “I’ve spoken to Lady Lucilla some today.”

Heavenerys’s expression warmed. “I saw you sitting beside her at dinner. What’s she like?”

“She’s…” Beautiful. Warm. Sweet. Fiery. “Nice,” he cleared his throat quickly. “I think you and her will get along.”

Heavenerys brightened further. 

“But…?” Polly prompted, expression still stiff. Tommy kept his gaze locked with Heavenerys’s.

“You and Amos seem to be getting on well.”

His cousin’s face lit up like the sun, eyes glowing with the brightness of a woman newly in love. “Oh, Tommy, he’s wonderful…”

“Can you control him?”

Her smile faded a little. “What…?”

He shifted in his seat, crossing one leg over the over. He hated to potentially throw cold water onto her happiness, but he needed to be certain about this. “Lucilla says that all the rumors about him are true.”

Heavenerys’s smile died away. Polly’s lips pursed. “Amos has been nothing but lovely and charming when I’ve spoken to him.”

“Of course he has. You’re the queen. And his betrothed’s mother. If he were rude to you I’d be questioning his intelligence.”

Polly leaned back into the loveseat, fiddling with the edge of her sleeve. “You’re really going to trust the word of a torturer?”

He frowned at the reminder of the rumors that swirled around Lucilla. “I don’t think that’s what she really is.”

Polly scoffed. “Thomaryon, when it comes to beautiful women, you’re not always the best judge of character…”

He sputtered slightly in offense. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means that you often think with the head not attached to your shoulders,” Heavenerys giggled.

Tommy huffed, running a hand through his hair and giving a slight shake of his head. “She seems frightened of him. And her father. Look…she just wants us to be careful, that’s all.”

Heavenerys tipped her head. “That’s kind of her to worry, but she doesn’t need to.” She smiled slyly. “I’ve already got him eating from the palm of my hand, and we haven’t even spent the night together yet.”

Tommy leaned towards her, staring hard into her eyes. There was a dismissiveness in her attitude that only worried him further, but that he did not know how to combat. She was only seven and ten, and–while she may have denied it–still optimistic and naive when it came to much in the ways of the world. Polly had always been so protective over her. She’d sheltered her, sometimes too much. 

“You’re the future of the realm, Hev. I need you to be sure that you can handle him. Not just today, or tomorrow. But for all the years to come. And in all matters. We can’t have him becoming another cruel tyrant on the throne. I can help you, but there’s only so much that I can do, even as Hand…” 

Heavenerys smiled at him, leaning closer, meeting his eyes unflinchingly. “I am sure, Tommy. You don’t need to worry.”

“Even if he really is a monster?”

An edge seemed to enter her smile, something flickering within her near glowing eyes, and he was reminded of the superstitions that his cousin was kissed by the cold, cursed with something wicked and twisted.

Perhaps, that really did make her the perfect match for the dark lord of the Dreadfort.

“Then he will be my monster.”

Previous Chapter • Series • Fic • Next Chapter

Thank you for reading! Please consider leaving a comment, reblog, or like. I always appreciate feedback and love getting the opportunity to interact with you and hear your thoughts!

[lillaydee]

Shhh!!! Part 6

Celebrity!Joel Miller / F Reader

A reluctant celebrity contractor who has closed his heart for love meets a celebrity-hating Cafe on Wheels owner...

She HATES him. Thing is, he couldn't get enough of the coffee she makes...

Tag List:

@kirsteng42 @peelieblue @harriedandharassed @joelalorian @vickie5446 @inept-the-magnificent @maried01 @brittmb115 @peedrow @lovefreylove @liciafonseca

Let me know if you would like to be added/removed from the tag list.

Dividers by the awesome @saradika

Header by Moi cause I learned how to use Canva! Yay me!

WARNINGS: Grumpy Joel (The Last of Us), Protective Joel (The Last of Us), Good Parent Joel (The Last of Us), Joel is Bad at Feelings (The Last of Us), Alternate Universe - No Cordyceps Outbreak (The Last of Us), Joel Needs a Hug (The Last of Us), Celebrity Joel Miller, Fluff and Angst, Eventual Smut, I'm Bad At Tagging, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Tags May Change, Hurt Joel (The Last of Us), Jealousy.

SERIES MASTER LIST

Part 5

What on earth was she doing?

Lucy was pacing your tiny living room, looking as if she was about to implode, and, if you were seeing and hearing right, she was muttering to herself, as if having some important discussion you were not privy to. She stopped, gesturing at the wall, before turning around and mumbling once more.

“Lucy? Are you okay? Do I need to call someone?”

She stopped, looked at you, and went to your fridge, taking out a carton of milk. She opened it and drank it all, wiping her mouth off a milk stache before tossing the now empty carton into the trash can.

“So, tell me straight. Are you, or are you not fucking him?”

Your mind wasn’t working. Why would she ask you that? You were not friends, you didn’t know her enough to share such info. All she knew was that she saw Joel leave your place. Did that simple act translate into fucking to these young ones? Were men not allowed to visit with their lady friends anymore? And even if you were (eww…), how was it any of her business?

“Look, I know you hate me and all, but I need to warn you about him. He’s not a good guy,” she continued, raiding your fridge for something else to consume. She re-emerged with a sponge cake Betty, one of your food truck neighbours had gifted you, tipped the whole thing onto a plate and sat on your couch, eating the cake as if it was a huge piece of twinkie. “Did he make you sign an NDA?”

Huh?

“An NDA, a Non-Disclosure Agreement. To make sure you don’t talk.”

Blank stare. You hadn’t even moved from your front door, still holding it open, still trying to figure out what the heck was happening.

“Shut the door, for fuck’s sake. I might get in trouble even asking you about this!” she hissed, sponge cake spraying all over your carpet.

You did but stayed where you were.

“Well, come over here, I can’t scream this bit out. I’ll fucking get sued!”

You hesitantly walked over to her, wondering if you even wanted to hear this.

She looked around, as if expecting someone hiding behind the curtains, before facing you again.

“Does he kiss you?”

Huh?

“Does he kiss you? On the lips?”

“Uh… no… but…”

“Then I need to warn you. Believe me that NDA is coming. Get out of it. Now. Look, that guy may be hot as fuck, but he has no heart. He’s like a fucking robot. He’ll fuck you ‘til he’s done and then leave. He doesn’t even try to make you finish. It’s all about stress release for him. Nothing more. You need to stop before you get your heart broken.”

You just stared at her, your mind processing what she had just said.

She looked down at her hands, head down, fingers crumbling the sponge cake you were looking forward to eat later that day, her voice cracking. Turned out, she was doing some part time job as his assistant at one of his locations a few years back, before he adopted Ellie, she was about ten years younger than him. She had just moved to LA, looking for a career in the industry.

“I just really liked him, you know? I worked with him every day. He wasn’t like the other bosses I’d worked for. He was so nice. Gentlemanly. The media made him seem like a jerk, but he’s so sweet and gentle, never raised his voice, never yelled, so I thought I was special, you know? I was new here, and I thought I knew better.”

You sat down, finding yourself feeling sorry for her a little.

“God, I was crushing so hard on him. Took me months, but I gathered enough courage to ask him out. Just for a drink. He told me he didn’t do that, not one on one. We could go out with the whole crew, he said, but not alone. But I thought he was just playing hard to get, you know? I heard about his past ‘friends’, rumours, of course, but I thought he was just not ready then. I heard about his late wife, so I played it cool. I finally told him how I feel about him, he simply told me he didn’t do relationships. I thought about it, but I had to try, you know? He was so nice. And oh… so sexy. So… normal… for someone famous. I mean, even compared to his brother… he was just like an everyday man.”

She started crying. You gave her the tissue box, and she quickly wiped her eyes with a couple.

“I should have known,” she sobbed, “He wouldn’t even kiss me. He kept saying he didn’t do that, and stupid me, I thought I could change his mind. Who doesn’t kiss?” She took a deep breath, as much as she could anyway, while still sobbing uncontrollably.

“God I was so stupid! I kept throwing myself at him. I was so desperate for him to like me. He kept telling me he didn’t do relationships and I chose not to hear it. I practically offered myself to him on a platter. I slept with him, just once. He kept asking if I was sure. Kept reminding me he didn’t want anything more. Whatever happened, it would just be sex. And I was so besotted with him I just said yes. It wasn’t even romantic. He didn’t even kiss me. It was over so quickly. We were in his office. A shipping container with AC. He didn’t even want to get drinks with me after. Much less ask me to his place or come to mine. Just zipped up, said thanks, and left. And stupid me, I was giddy. He chose me.”

She took another deep breath, much calmer this time. “The next day, I came to work happy. I thought, we had sex, right? So we must be something now? I tried to kiss him, and he pulled back, reminding me he didn’t want that. It was just sex. It was just one time. He reminded me that he had been honest and upfront. It can never happen again if I wanted more, relationship wise. I was heartbroken. Changed jobs immediately. I spoke with some people he was rumoured to have been ‘friends’ with, and they told me they couldn’t say anything. And what’s more, they didn’t want to say anything. He was nice, upfront, and they agreed to his conditions. They even signed NDAs to that fact. They had nothing but nice things to say about him. They agreed, it was just sex. If you’re lucky, he’ll come back for seconds, even thirds. If you’re very lucky, he’ll see you again on a more regular basis.”

“His agent came knocking days later, NDA in hand. I can’t say anything about him or that day to anyone. I’m breaking the fucking rule telling you about this. But if I can save you the heartbreak, I am willing to risk it. Don’t do it, Lily. He’ll only break your heart.”

You were lost for words. She just went on a rant about Joel, the man you did not sleep with, risking a lawsuit while doing so, too. How do you tell her you didn’t sleep with him, nor were you planning to, without her being angry at you? She went through all those tears trying to warn you. And now you just felt bad.

“Uh… Lucy, I didn’t sleep with him. He’s just a friend.”

“What?”

“He came to fix my shower. That’s all.”

Silence. Her face blank.

And then it morphed into one of what you could only describe as a tantrum.

“YOU’RE TELLING ME I’VE JUST RISKED A LAWSUIT FOR NOTHING?” she screeched.

You gave her a slight nod, a cringe on your face, which may or may not have come off as mocking her – she certainly took it that way – tears gone, all that simpering ‘I care about you too much to let him do this to you too’ look all but gone. She huffed her way past you to your door, taking your precious sponge cake with her, only stopping to growl at you to not mention the conversation to anyone through gritted teeth, slamming your door behind her so loud you could feel the floor shake.

You took a deep breath after that.

Well… that was… more info than you’d like to digest this morning.

You didn’t have anything to do. You’ve cleaned your tiny apartment twice, did all your laundry, deep cleaned the truck and machine, and now you didn’t know what to do. What do you do on a Monday? You called your Uncle Bill, but he was busy. So you decided why not? You hadn’t been grocery shopping in ages. You didn’t really cook that much, usually too tired to cook by the time you got home. But perhaps getting some ready made food or ramen wouldn’t be such a bad idea. Plus, you needed lunch, and that sponge cake Lucy demolished and later stole was all the food you had in your fridge. That, and a questionable orange and two tomatoes, which you were sure moved when you pushed them aside to clean the fridge.

You were in the midst of deciding which ramen to buy when you heard your name being hollered through the store, a very excited Ellie following it. She practically tackled you, telling you it was weird to see you outside of the truck, without your kerchief and apron.

“Hey, excited teenage girl, why are you so excited to see me? You’ll see me tomorrow, you know that, right?”

“Nothing! I’m just excited! How’s your shower head?”

“It’s fine now. Thanks to your Dad,” you told her, moving your basket away from her prying eyes.

She took a glance, looked at you with such disappointment in her eyes and cocked her brow at you, “Really Lil? Ramen? Why don’t you take some of those microwaveable mac and cheese too?”

“Ooh! Where are they? Can you show me?”

She just laughed at you, shaking her head, taking your arm in hers and led you to the aisle, even going so far as recommending you which brands to get. The two of you went around the store, filling your basket with more instant stuff for you to reheat when you get back from work, her phone beeping over and over, before finally ringing incessantly.

“You don’t pick up your phone?”

“Eh, it’ll stop,” she said, rather nonchalantly, as the two of you made your way to the till. She grabbed a loaf of bread as you approached, paid for it, and quickly said goodbye. You didn’t even have the chance to say goodbye back before she disappeared.

You walked out with bags upon bags of instant food and one measly bag of apples in your arms – that’s healthy, right? – and tried a magical feat where you tried to get your phone out without letting go of the bags, your tongue sticking out in concentration.

“Hey Lil!”

It’s her again. She came running, sans bread, taking the bags from your right arm, asking you if you’d had lunch.

“Er… no, I’m excited to try that mac and cheese though,” you told her.

“Come on, have lunch with me. You like Thai?” she asked, starting to walk towards the Thai place just at the end of the street.

“Okay, sure!” you said, taking one of the bags in your left arm to lighten the load.

A pair of bigger hands appeared and took all your bags from you. You turned.

Joel.

“I take it you’re joining us for lunch?” he asked, smiling at you. “Where’s your car? we can leave the bags in there, unless… anything perishable in here?” he asked, scanning the contents of your bags.

Oh… dear Lord… he now knew what kind of a person you were in the kitchen.

“Um… I don’t drive. I’m Ubering.”

“Ellie,” he said, beckoning her back to the front of the store. The two of them left you standing there, and you watched helplessly, red in the face, as they placed your groceries in his truck. Huh… a beater of a truck. Not at all something you’d imagined a celebrity like him would be driving.

You didn’t know what to do. You were all for it when you thought it was just you and Ellie, but now that you know Joel was here too? First of all, it was mortifying that he knew you didn’t cook, and you didn’t know how to look him in the eye upon that little revelation. Second of all, Lucy’s story, while questionable, was still fresh in your head.

You didn’t know why, but that story she told you bothered you. Was that the kind of man he was? Sure, he’s still mourning his late wife, that much you got, empathized with, even, but did it excuse the way he treated her? And yes, he was upfront with her, but… did he need to fuck her and then serve her with an NDA when she wanted more? It all just seemed… typical playboy male Hollywood celebrity to you, and whatever blushes you may or may not have had when the two of you were saying goodbye that morning was instantly shoved out of your person.

That was not the kind of mess you wanted to ever be involved in, thank you very much.

Or maybe, just maybe, you just felt a bit uneasy that the sight of him emerging from your bathroom with water from his wet hair trickling down to his neck and chest stuck to your brain like superglue. And the fact that you googled him after Lucy left and saw that topless picture of him in a hard-hat, wielding a very large hammer.

It was then you started obsessively cleaning your apartment and truck. Twice. Purely a coincidence, obviously. As if you would clean just because you couldn’t get those images out of your head. Madness.

“You ready?” his voice jolted you out of your daydream. Ellie took you by the hand and pulled you to the restaurant, asking you 100 questions about whether or not you had eaten there, and before you could even answer, offered you 100 suggestions of what you should try. “Ellie, let the woman think, please,” Joel chastised, earning him a raspberry from the teenager.

Once you were seated, you asked Ellie to order for you. Anything Thai was good to you, so you didn’t mind.

“So, Sarah’s coming home tomorrow? You must be excited,” you started, not willing to sit in awkward silence – although it was you who was mostly awkward, what with the revelation of that morning.

“Yeah, she was supposed to leave around seven, but I got a text from her at four am saying they were already leaving so maybe they’d get here earlier than planned. Depends on where they stop tonight. They were supposed to stay at her friend’s but if they got there early, they might drive on and stay at a motel.” There was a small frown on his features, one you could only decipher as a worried father.

“He doesn’t like the idea of her staying at a motel,” Ellie explained, “Too dodgy, no security. She won’t be alone, Joel, there are three of them, she’ll be alright,” she coaxed her obviously worried father.

He smiled at her, nodding a little, “I know, I just…” he took a deep breath. “Anyway, that means that I might not be able to earn my coffee for the rest of this week, and I would rather have Ellie home too, so we could all spend some time together,” he looked apologetic, or maybe… a little regretful? “She’s gonna skip Frank’s class this week.”

“Hey, up until a week ago, I do that alone. It’s no problem.”

He mouthed a thank you, before telling Ellie what he wanted for lunch.

The three of you chit-chatted for a while, and just as lunch was served, a bunch of teenagers walked in.

“Ooh! That’s my friend Dina, I’m gonna go say hi,” Ellie said, immediately getting up to join her friends, coming back a few minutes later to get her plate, winking at you and Joel, and left.

“Well, looks like it’s just us two, then,” he said, “Just like a date!” before taking a slurp of his Tom Yum Gung.

You choked on yours, spluttering Tom Yum soup all over yourself. He panicked and came to sit next to you, rubbing your back, giving you napkin after napkin to help you clean up. He waited until you got Tom Yum out of your nostrils before going back to his seat, wary eyes on you. He asked if you were alright, and when you nodded, he hung his head for a bit.

When you looked up, Ellie was staring at you from her table, mouthing ‘are you okay’ to you. You nodded, before thanking Joel for helping you out, apologizing for his trouble, and at the same time frowning at your formerly white shirt, now splattered with red.

“Is the idea of being on a date with me that horrifying? Lucy said something to you, didn’t she?”

You froze. You didn’t know what to say. You knew Lucy would get in trouble if you did say something.

“Lucy? No. Why? How did you know her, by the way?” you feigned ignorance, taking a careful slurp of your soup.

“She was my assistant, for a while, before Ellie came to live with me,” he said, plucking a forkful of the mango salad. “We… uh… slept together once. I was very clear I didn’t want anything more, she did, and she left for another job after. So, we didn’t exactly part on good terms.”

From the way he was speaking, it was clear to you that he regretted the way things ended with Lucy.

“I wouldn’t have minded continuing a working relationship with her, professionally, but she left. I haven’t seen her before this morning.”

“Can I ask? Why didn’t you want anything more with her?” you heard yourself ask before you could stop yourself. Shit. He’s gonna go back to being a grump now, isn’t he?

Instead, he smiled, “I just… don’t have it in me anymore. After my late wife… Laura. She died when Sarah was one. After her, I just… I’m not sure I want to go through something like that again.”

You nodded, “I’m so sorry, Joel, truly.”

He shrugged. “I’m okay, being alone, I mean. I have my girls, my work, Tommy, I get by. I just… I’m…”

“Not ready,” you tried. He nodded.

“What about you? You seeing anyone?” he asked, eyes averted from yours, focusing instead on fishing the prawn in his Tom Yum.

“Nah… never again,” you said, picking a cashew off the mango salad.

Was it your imagination, or did he seem relieved?

“So I don’t have to worry about some dude attacking me for having lunch with you?”

You laughed, “No, Joel, you don’t have to worry.”

He wiped his forehead in mock relief.

“So, Laura was the last relationship you had?”

He nodded, “I won’t lie, I had a couple ladies I could call if I wanted to, but since Ellie came to live with me, I don’t do that anymore. She was having a hard time, and with Sarah in college back then, I just didn’t have the time for all that. So, now I’m just… single. No arrangements, no nothing. Free and clear. Plus, with the way the media is these days, it’s just not convenient. My cousin visited a couple of years back, she was seen around town with me, and someone looked her up. She received threats just for being seen with me,” he shook his head, looking regretful. “Luckily, she was used to that, most of my family and friends are, but I don’t think some innocent lady would be okay with that, you know?”

You nodded in agreement, eyes wide at the thought of some innocent woman being threatened by jealous fans.

“So, how long since your last relationship?” he asked.

You took a deep breath, doing the math in your head. “A few years? He left me to be with Cleo Savvant.”

It was his turn to splutter but held his hand up when you tried to help him. He laughed a little, begging you to tell him the story. When you did, he could only shake his head.

“No wonder you hate celebrities, huh?”

You huffed a laugh, “It didn’t help, that’s for sure.”

“Well, he’s an idiot.”

“You don’t even know him.”

“He left you for Savvant, that’s all I needed to know.”

You were touched, not that you would show him. So you gave him a little smile, mouthing a thanks.

“To be fair, we were on the edge of breaking up anyway, we were barely speaking to or seeing each other anymore. She did me a favour, taking him off my hands, really. All it took was a hug and a smile, and the next thing I knew, he’s all shacked up with her. He didn’t want to move in together with me, said he didn’t believe in cohabitating before marriage. But he wasn’t exactly proposing either, so it was about time, really.”

He looked contemplative for a while before asking you the next question, “So, never again?”

“You asked me today, so yeah, but who knows? I might change my mind one day. but right now? I have all I need, roof over my head, food in my belly, money in the bank… so, yeah. Never again. I don’t need a man to survive. Unless of course, my shower head breaks again.”

He guffawed, amusement clear across his entire body. You looked across the room, Ellie looking at her Dad, a smile clear on her face. Her friends were looking too, all with sly smiles on their faces.

He insisted on driving you home, Ellie climbing in the back seat as soon as you said okay. The drive was filled with easy banter and laughter, Ellie quiet in the back, busy with her phone. You told him not to, but he carried your bags of instant food to your door for you, telling you he will see you the next week for his coffee, before giving you a small peck on your cheek.

By the time you shut the door, you were sure you had a fever from the heat radiating from your cheek to the rest of your body.

Sarah laid on the bed in the motel that night, body tired from driving for hours, ready to just shut her eyes for a much needed rest to drive home the next day, when her phone pinged.

She watched the videos Ellie had sent her. Her dear old Dad, sitting at a table alone with you, laughing his head off, chatting and laughing freely with you in his truck, looking more carefree than she had ever seen him, walking towards some apartment she had never been to before, carrying your groceries for you, and finally, walking back to the truck, a smile evident on his face, despite the lone walk.

Oh wow… Ellie was right.

Her dear old Dad had a crush. On the sweet coffee lady.

Sarah went to bed smiling that night, impatient to see Ellie for more updates, and to see her Dad with you with her own eyes.

“Hey Beanie,” your Uncle Bill greeted that Wednesday morning, trudging over to your truck as you arranged the chairs out front.

“Uncle Bill,” you ran over to hug him, “What are you doing here?”

“Felt bad I couldn’t spend yesterday with you, so here I am, needed to spend time with my favourite niece,” he said, giving you a hug back.

“I’m your only niece, and you hate my truck.”

“I do, but you are always working, and the one day you didn’t, I was not free, so here I am.”

“Aww… you’re willing to suffer through the truck for the day for me?”

He rolled his eyes, taking off his light jacket and rolling his sleeves. He shooed you inside and continued unfolding and arranging the tables and chairs for you. He was not chatty, your Uncle Bill, and was by far the grumpiest and most awkward man you had ever met. But he loved you, in his own ways, and you, him. He lived alone in a condo at the edge of the city, a quiet, retired life.

He was extremely close to his only sibling, your stepmom Jenny, and was still contemplating whether or not to move back to Wyoming to be closer to her. His only excuse for not moving immediately was you, he didn’t want to leave you alone here, but you could tell he was lonely. He’s a mysterious man, your Uncle Bill. For as long as you remembered, you had never seen him with a lady friend and was single to this day. He bought that condo to be closer to your grandma, who was living in a facility in that area until she passed and decided to just stay there. You spend every free day you had with him, if not for nothing, to enjoy his cooking. Damn, that man could cook. You wouldn’t think it, looking at him. So serious, with his full beard and sharp eyes, but he had to be the softest, kindest man known to men.

He hated the truck, too small, he said. Too claustrophobic. Even staying outside brought out the grump in him. He used to sit at a table as you and Jenny worked, scowling at everyone. When confronted, he told Jenny his aim was to scare all your customers away so you would give up the stupid truck.

When Dave dumped you, he spent a week standing outside his apartment building and work place, just to send him a message. Dave called you to beg you to call your guard dog off, and your dear Uncle Bill simply moved on when you did, telling you that his message had been delivered.

He’s retired now, but spent his days volunteering for the facility your grandma had been at, doing pro bono work for folks who needed representation. So there he was, minding the till for you as you made coffee, gruffly telling the customers how much they owed, a scowl on his face, despite your coaxing for him to smile every now and again.

“Hurts my face,” he grunted, but smiled, nonetheless, when you gave him a pleading kiss on his bearded cheek.

He retained that smile when he greeted the next customer.

“Well, well, well, who do we have here?” Frank’s familiar voice greeted. You turned around to see him looking your Uncle up and down with interest. “Another macho man to help you mind your till, Lily? You must tell me your secret!”

“Hi Frank,” you greeted, “This is my Uncle Bill. Uncle Bill, this is Frank, he’s a retired art professor, volunteering here for the summer.”

Your Uncle Bill stood stock still where he was, staring at Frank, before mumbling something about needing to get something from his truck. Frank chirped a cheerful goodbye to him, got his coffee and left. Your Uncle Bill came back 20 minutes later, sans anything in his hands, clearing the tables, eyes looking around as if looking for someone.

He spent the day complaining about the truck being too cramped, too hot, too wobbly, the music too loud, the food too dry, the customers too smiley, the sun too bright, the bathrooms too far. But you, being used to his complaining, just smiled along and entertained him the best you could, appreciative that he gave up his day to spend time with you in this ‘too everything’ environment. He insisted on taking you out to dinner, driving behind your truck after closing, keeping you company as you took it through the wash, and parked in your garage, before driving you home after, letting you hug him for five whole minutes to show him how much you appreciated him spending the day with you.

You woke up the Thursday morning to a picture from Ellie of her, Sarah and Joel with sushi between their teeth, grinning at the camera, making your heart soar at the little family, reunited.

You drove up to your usual spot early the next morning to your Uncle Bill waiting.

“Uncle Bill? What are you doing here? I thought I won’t see you ‘til Sunday,” you said, hugging him as he helped you down from the truck, shutting the door behind you.

“Just wanted to spend some more time with you,” he said, “I had fun yesterday, just wanted to have another go at it.”

Uh huh. Right.

Well, no one would hear you complain. You enjoyed having him around. So you went about your day, him by your side. He started easing up a bit as the day went by, particularly after Frank made his daily coffee stop, smiling his reluctant smile to your customers, staying until closing, having dinner with you and hugging you goodbye.

And again on Friday.

He was rather moody on Saturday and asked you to close Sunday.

He was back Monday, looking jittery as hell, and when Frank left to go to class with his coffee, your Uncle Bill ran after him, asking him if he would be free to join the two of you for lunch.

“I thought you would never ask,” Frank said, giving your Uncle Bill his card. “See you at noon,” he said, before turning around to leave, giving your dear old uncle a dazzling smile as he did.

You stood in the doorway of your truck as your Uncle Bill smiled wider than you had ever seen him, your head tilting trying to figure out what the fuck was going on, your eyes focused on your dear old uncle, who was now staring at the card Frank gave him intently, joy written all over his face.

Wait… was he…

Oh.

Oh...

Part 7

[kamaluhkhan]

anti-curse

pairing: percy jackson x daughter of apollo!reader

summary: whether he knew it or not, percy jackson made the world a better, brighter place — and you intend to protect him, no matter what path the fates leads you down. fuck prophetic dreams. the future wasn't written in stone.

warnings/disclaimers: mentions of typical demigod things (battles, weapons, etc.); this is set during the heroes of olympus series so roughly follows that plot + features the seven demigods; mainly inspired by book!percy (dark hair, sea green eyes) bc that's the one i fell in love w growing up; characters are aged up from the book (reader + percy are meant to be 21-22 y/o) bc i imagine there was more time between prophecies/series....anyways, please enjoy <3

when you first met percy jackson, he almost shot you through the chest with an arrow.

given that apollo is your godly parent, you often found yourself at the archery field, which happened to be one of the first stops on percy’s tour of camp half-blood. after that first mishap, your other half-siblings were, understandably, too scared to let percy try again — frankly chiron seemed a bit hesitant as well — and you could sense that percy felt disheartened. so, you flashed the boy a reassuring smile before giving him a few pointers and a second chance. when he smiled back at you, you felt a fluttering in your stomach that told you percy jackson would be more than a little important in your life.

archery still wasn't percy's strong suit, but your gut feeling turned out to be true. you and percy had dealt with a lot since then — a handful of quests, several prophecies, more than a few near-death experiences, a titan war, and, maybe worst of all, high school. you couldn't imagine getting through any of it without him by your side, and you knew the feeling was mutual.

so, you were entirely anticipating that percy would be hurt by your announcement during dinner. 

“no way that’s happening.” percy laughs, as if he can’t believe you’d suggest something as ridiculous as not having him accompany you on your quest. he remains unfazed, takes a sip of his electric blue coke before gesturing to the empty seat next to him. “come on, sunshine. have something to eat.”

the nickname sends your heart into a frenzy as you sit next to him. you and percy had never been anything other than friends, but sometimes....sometimes you look at his dangerous ocean eyes and wind-swept dark hair and it makes you blush. sometimes you consider the way his laughter fills you with warmth and his smile holds a thousand memories, the way he teases and winks at you and you decide that he makes your world so much brighter. sometimes you remember how sarcastic and thoughtful and loyal and reckless he is, his heart of gold and unpredictability of the sea. and you start to think that maybe possibly you'd fallen in love with your best friend.

that was not the issue at hand, though. you summon your favourite food and drink, but don't particularly feel like having either. percy returns to his conversation with hazel about how the two of you would drive up to montauk after you finally got your license, any time either of you needed to escape your reality, even just for a night. you'd sit on the beach, stargazing and roasting stale marshmallows and wishing to stay there forever. hazel seems to think that sounds like a nice escape, and percy promises that once the eight of you fulfill this prophecy, you'll all go to the beach house together, which makes hazel break out into a grin.

you can't help but smile at percy who loves his friends, who has loved you for so long. that feeling is quickly replaced by a pang in your chest that reminds you what's at stake. from the corner of your eye, you notice annabeth across from you, who looks at you like you’re a puzzle she can’t quite solve. you're trying to hide it, but if anyone can read you better than percy, it's annabeth. she knows something is weighing on your mind. you briefly lock eyes with jason, who you had gone to earlier for help, from the other side of the room, where he sits between piper and frank. 

if you weren’t so distracted, you would have been able to enjoy dinner. the eight of you — all demigods of the current great prophecy — hadn’t been all together in a while, and it was nice to share a meal aboard the argo ii despite the reality of why you’d all been traveling together. leo had equipped the ship with magic plates and cups, and with the lively jokes and stories filling the air, you could almost imagine it was an ordinary summer evening at camp. you could almost forget that tomorrow, you had to go on a quest to rescue apollo and artemis from python, a monster so powerful your father barely defeated him thousands of years ago. you could almost ignore the impending war with gaea and the giants, and the doomed fate of the world if you were to fail. the one thing you could no longer ignore, however, is the gut feeling you have about the fate of the boy sitting next to you if your quest is to unfold the way you had first planned it. 

you clear your throat, an attempt to interrupt the group's conversations. 

“i was serious earlier,” you declare. “you’re not coming with me, percy. jason is.”

the smile percy had on his face fades. his eyes are filled with concern and disbelief, as he glances at you. “i – i don’t understand.”

"percy,” jason jumps in carefully, aware that he’s treading through dangerous waters like you had warned him. “y/n and i were strategizing earlier and it seems to make the most sense, given our powers combined." 

percy shakes his head. “but — but you can’t just make last minute changes. we’ve already got everything set. right, valdez?”

leo shrugs, swallowing a mouthful of chicken before responding. “i don’t know, man. i’m no expert in quests, but it seems like i’m not the one who should be deciding this.” leo looks at you, and you nod gratefully.

you've been on edge since last night, and to calm your nerves you fiddle with the gold chain around your neck. it was a gift from your father: a necklace with a music note charm that can transform into an electric guitar or a bow and quiver. thankfully, you hadn't had to need both at the same time.

“it's up to me. and i want leo and jason to come with me.”

“then i’ll come too,” percy's voice remains calm, but insistant.

“isn’t there that thing about quests usually being done in threes?”

“that is true, piper,” percy agrees. he tilts his head towards you, like he's calling on you to remember. "exceptions have been made, though. like that one time with zoe." that had been years ago, when demigods from camp half-blood and hunters of artemis joined forces. five had been sent out on a quest, but only three came back. you shiver at the thought.

"or my quest through the labyrinth," annabeth recalls.

"but won't that also change our other plans, though?" hazel asks.

"not necessarily," you pipe in, your voice more assertive. "if jason and percy just switch. no harm done."

"we're not interchangeable," percy grumbles.

"hera sure seemed to think so!" leo searches the room for positive responses to his joke, but the most he gets is a half-hearted laugh from frank. "too soon?"

you take a deep breath. "it's not a big deal, really."

"it kind of is," percy counters. "you've never gone on a quest without me."

"you've gone on quests without me," you point out.

"that's...that's different."

"why? because i'm so weak that i need the son of the sea god to protect me at all times?"

you're giving percy the coldest stare you ever have. he hesitates to hold your gaze.

"you know that's not what i meant," he sighs.

"then what did you mean?"

percy looks at you, his eyes and tone softer. “look, sunshine, let's just stick with the plan, alright? we can just —”

“gods, you never listen, do you?" you finally snap. "you're not coming! i don’t want you there, percy!”

percy stares at you, stunned. you look around the table, and everyone looks back at you, wide-eyed. they weren’t used to this side of you, your sudden outburst not fitting in with your usually sunny disposition. 

“well, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed,” leo jokes in an attempt to lighten the mood, with less than ideal results.

“you saw something in your dreams, didn’t you?” annabeth realizes. 

her conclusion makes you freeze.

demigod dreams are always significant, carrying vivid images of monsters, messages from friends or enemies. some children of apollo like you had visions of the future — pseudo prophecies that are supposedly set to unfold given the path you’re on. technically, you weren’t supposed to share your visions, something about messing with fate or destiny, but that didn’t mean you had to accept the way things were. 

what you saw in your dreams last night, what might happen to percy, made your blood run cold.

you would defy all the laws of the universe and divine rules if it meant you could protect him. so fuck the path the fates are attempting to lead you down, and fuck prophetic dreams. you refuse to let percy die. no matter how frustrated you’re acting towards him in this moment, you know he would still do the same for you.

you figure that the future isn't written in stone, right?

either way, you're willing to challenge destiny for percy jackson.

without answering annabeth, you get up from the table and take a deep breath, carefully avoiding percy’s gaze. 

“i go with leo and jason, or i go alone.” your voice is steady, fighting the heavy beating of your heart and tears caught in your throat. “either way, i leave in the morning.” you exit the mess hall before anyone — before percy — can protest.

[demigods-posts]

something that'll always get to me is rachel and annabeth are friends. rachel split with percy and befriended his girlfriend. and all of that must be complicated. and confusing. and messy. like. imagine the possibilities.

[winters-rose-daughterofcain]

Wylan Van Eck x Ethel Cain Lyrics

[the-oa]

Celeste!!! Celeste!!!! We love you Celeste!!!!! <3<3<3

[blaithnne]

If you look at my Lauren art chronologically you can pinpoint the exact moment I truly fell in love with big noses

[backpackingspace]

Headcanon that most demon royalty goes to some fancy private/finishing school. But that Stolas was homeschooled with a private tutor. It was one of the very very few requests his dad granted him and for years it was a tressure memory, one of the few times he /got to choose/ one of the few times his dad /listened/ to him. Only to realize when he enters society that it was another isolation tactic. That everybody had already spent years forming social alliances and building their reputations and social credit. And that there was no room for him to break into those circles, that he /did not know/ the proper unspoken social rules. That his wife has spent years building her clout and that he is once again. Alone.