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#p.s. i have invites
potatobugz · 10 months
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incredible how they have a ball with the snatchers face on it for some reason in Hat Kids bedroom so you can simulate the experience of throwing him against the wall
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rhys-ravenfeather · 4 months
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Me, who has never watched Hazbin Hotel, just doing my own thing as people argue back and forth against or in defense of the show:
youtube
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thexsilentxwordsmith · 4 months
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Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader
Simon needing to hold you after a bad day.
The tiny apartment was completely silent as Simon unlocked the door and stepped inside, head hung low and shoulders tense. Lights were turned down, tv was off; you were most likely already asleep by now. It was late, much later than he had told you he’d be back, but he had been struggling with the weight of his thoughts again today and had barely made it in. He would have let you know that he was going to be late… it was just…he couldn’t find the will to even shoot you a quick text.
It wasn’t like him to be concerned about who knew where he was or what he was doing, choosing to distance himself from everything and everyone that could potentially catch a glimpse of him cracking behind the mask, but right now all he wanted was to get back to the place he called home before he fell apart and the world would swallow him whole.
As quietly as he could he set his things down beside the door and continued on through the flat, catching little bits of you everywhere: your shoes lying scattered by the wall, the blanket you’d just been curled up in tossed haphazardly in a bundle on the sofa, a mug on the coffee table that had the remnants of your drink stuck to the inside. Scattered bits of you everywhere across his life as little reminders of what he had that waited for him here and for the first time all day it felt a little easier to breathe to know his angel was close by.
Passing near the kitchen, Simon spotted a piece of paper with his name scribbled on the front waiting for him on the countertop, your familiar handwriting obvious to his eye. He picked it up and unfolded it.
Hey baby,
I really tried to stay up, I promise, but you know how work has been kicking my ass lately. I thought maybe I could just take a nap until you got in, but I was worried that if I laid down I wouldn’t wake up, so I thought I’d leave this here for you to find. Didn’t want you to think I forgot about you. Just wake me when you get in, alright? I don’t care what time it is, I want to see you!
Love you.
P.S. I left some dinner in the fridge if you haven’t eaten yet. We can reheat it and eat it together. XOXO 
Christ, what did he do to deserve all this?
Always looking out for him, always making sure he had a place back in the real world whenever he came home. He held that piece of paper between his hardened fingers, the note more significant than it should have been after the type of day he had. You were the closest to heaven as he could get, more than he ever thought he would get to have and that’s why it was you he was trying to break down that wall to come to for comfort. 
His sight flicked to the fridge where you said you’d left him something; he was definitely starving, but just the thought of the effort it would take to eat right now was too much and the knot that rested in the pit of his stomach made him too nauseous anyway. There was something that would fill him far better than food could and he knew just where to find it now.
Moving on to the living room, he set himself down heavily on the couch and began to remove his boots and the outer layers of his clothing along with his mask, stripping away all the bits of his life as the stone cold sniper now that he was safe here in his little sanctuary. Stripped bare until he was down to his boxers, Simon gently crept towards the back of the apartment hoping he would make it to the bedroom before this feeling took him. 
Closer and closer he walked towards the other half of his heart.
The door stood slightly ajar to invite him inside and as he stepped up to it, he caught the hushed, rhythmic sounds of your breathing as you slumbered. It sounded so peaceful that he could have stood there in the dimly lit hallway and listen to it all night long. Just a few more steps, barely any distance left, and he would truly be home.
The room was completely dark save for the small crack in the curtains that let in just a bit of light from the streetlamp outside, helping him to find his way through the maze of darkness. As those brown eyes adjusted to the lack of light, Simon turned his attention to the bed and his heart skipped a beat. There you were: the outline of your body silhouetted under the covers, your head buried in your pillow, all cares left behind as you slept.
No sound did he make as he crept to the edge of the bed and lifted the sheets so that he could climb inside and up against your body laying in the center. One strong arm slipped up under your pillowed head while the other wrapped around your waist until you were encircled and he pulled you slowly so that your back rested up against his chest. His body molded into yours still warm from being wrapped up tight.
You stirred awake gently at the feeling of that familiar large body suddenly laying beside you. “Hey you,” you whispered sleepily, a smile on your lips as your eyes fluttered as they worked to open. “Tried to wait up, but I got so tired I had to go lay down. I’m sorry, but I’ll make it up to you.”
Only silence greeted you as a response. No chuckle at your predictability, no picking remarks about how you couldn’t even stay up to see him, just the sound of labored breaths in and out as he lay there in the darkness curled up against you.
Silence only meant one thing and you knew it well.
“You okay baby?” you asked, but again there was no answer. Only the squeeze of his arm around your waist pulling you in tighter to his chest gave you any sort of reply as Simon’s nose nuzzled into the crook of your neck, his eyelashes brushing over your skin.
It was clear just from the silence that he was far from okay, that he must have been bottling this up for God knows how many hours so that the world would not see that he was not always the tough, put together soldier he was supposed to be. But he could not hide it from you...he didn't want to hide it from you.
You heard him inhale deeply, trying to capture as much of your scent as he could until it filled his head: your natural musk mixed with the smell of the sheets and added hints of shampoo and body wash. That comforting scent that belonged to only you that he couldn't ever get enough of, the one that helped to relax his troubled mind. Instantly the tension he had been carrying like a boulder upon his shoulders all day finally released him from its stranglehold. 
Gentle, exploring hands tentatively went up under your baggy shirt, one of his old worn ones you loved to wear to bed to keep him close even when he wasn’t there, as he just wanted to make contact with all that delicately soft skin. He traced over curved paths he knew by touch alone: it was soft, it was familiar, it was safe and his heartbeat slowed as the ache in his chest dissipated enough that he could finally talk.
“Bad day,” he whispered finally, warm breath against your shoulder. "Really fuckin' bad day... again."
You rolled over in his arms until you came face to face with those sad auburn eyes, moved by the shame in his tone. It broke your heart that each time he had one of these days he felt such guilt about it, as if he simply should have been over it all by now, as if he wasn't human, but you were not about to let him overthink the struggle. There was nothing to be shameful about.
“I’m sorry baby. These things just happen, you know, but its alright; we'll get through it together, ” you said quietly, fingertips gently running over the line of his eyebrow, down his cheekbone and further to his jaw in soothing circles.
Together.
Simon closed his eyes and eased into your hand as you traced patterns across his temple and through the cropped sides of his hair, letting the vile, churning thoughts rummaging around in his brain to fall away. No one else could ever see him like this save for you, no one else's touch he craved more than anything to bring him back into himself after the day had brought him down so low. 
He brought his hand up and placed the tough palm over top of yours to hold it firmly against his cheek as if to make sure that all of this was real, that you were not simply a mirage cast by his broken mind. 
“You’re home now, baby,” you reassured him as he took deep breaths in and out with his eyes closed, only wanting to feel you. “It’s gonna be okay, I got you.”
Home, still such a strange word for him.
Wherever you were that was home. Not a place, but a person, one who made certain that no matter how far he drifted she would always pull him back in. Simon had never had such a tether before, but fuck did he need it. He could feel it like medicine running through his blood, when you held him he could feel the chemicals rush to soothe the gaping wound in his heart.
Pulling your hand off his cheek, he brought it to his mouth and pressed his lips to the surface before leaning in to give one to your gentle lips. You embraced him back with such tenderness as if to remind him of that promise you had made to each other that neither of you would have to traverse the hell of this world alone.
“Home,” he repeated the tender word in his gravely tone, letting the emotionless second mask fall away. "I hope ya know... that you are my home, sweetheart."
You smiled. "You're mine too, Simon."
He took a deep breath, trying to swallow down the lump in his throat. "Bein' near ya is the only fuckin' thing that seems to help quiet the shit in my 'ead these days."
Pulling him back in, you gave him another kiss. "Then get nice and close," you said softly as you squirmed up under him more, setting his arm back over you.
Securing his arms around you again he moved over top of you so that his head rested against the middle of your chest, ear pressed in against your sternum to listen to your heartbeat rhythmically thump inside. With his hand still inside your shirt he drew his fingertips along your bare hips, not wanting anything more than your company tonight. 
Your calming fingers ran through his short hair and over his scalp as he counted the beats of your heart until he melted into your body. Discussion could happen later if and when he was ready, for now this was all he needed. However long he wanted to cling to your torso, you’d let him.
You were his life raft, pulling him back in and no matter how far he drifted and it was because of you that for the first time in his life he didn’t feel like he was going to get lost.  
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astonmartinii · 7 months
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we don’t play about halloween | max verstappen social media au
pairing: max verstappen x fem reader
max doesn’t play about three things: formula one, his cats and his girlfriend’s love for halloween
MASTERLIST | TIPS
yourusername
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liked by oscarpiastri, maxverstappen1 and 607,344 others
tagged: maxverstappen1
yourusername: yes we dress up to carve pumpkins, it’s rude if you don’t.
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user1: gosh they are so cute
user2: did max just dress as himself whenever he’s within 5ft of y/n?
maxverstappen1: i get why the americans don’t play about the statue of liberty
yourusername: i think they should build one of you in zandvoort
maxverstappen1: and they still wouldn’t worship it as much as i worship you
yourusername: i literally light candles in your name and pray for you with you mum, i think i worship you more sorry
maxverstappen1: the ONLY loss i’ll take
user3: i feel lonely year round because of them but it’s SO much worse during halloween
user4: they are the definition of the couple costume they invented it and they PERFECTED it
landonorris: i thought your apartment was a safe space, why did i get harassed over my costume?
yourusername: it was more of the lack of costume? “streamer” does not count
landonorris: who actually dresses up to carve pumpkins?
maxverstappen1: COOL PEOPLE
yourusername: imagine not dressing up and having an awful pumpkin … could never be me
landonorris: STOP BULLYING ME
maxverstappen1: do better then.
user5: obsessed with how peace and love y/n is for the whole year but as soon as someone doesn’t care about halloween it’s fight time
charles_leclerc: remind me to never accept an invite to a halloween event at the verstappen-l/n household - far TOO much stress
yourusername: but you’re like the only one who deserves an invite to next year because the air max costume slayed
maxverstappen1: i might even let you back on it
charles_leclerc: might???
maxverstappen1: follow me on instagram
yourusername: 2019 was so long ago we really need to move on
danielricciardo: you seriously underestimate just how petty these men are
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maxverstappen1
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liked by danielricciardo, yourusername and 894,560 others
tagged: yourusername
maxverstappen1: halloween is a full family affair
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user8: JIMMY AND SASSY I CAN'T
user9: yall looking at the croissant and the lobster i'm focusing on AMY AND NICK?
user10: has max even seen this film?
maxverstappen1: nope i just like doing the costumes y/n wants to do
user11: i wish i had enough friends to have like ten billion halloween parties
oscarpiastri: i didn't know what to expect but i did not think i was going to see alex trying to drown george at the apple bobbing station
yourusername: i let them work out their own mess as long as they don't accidentally flood our living room again
oscarpiastri: AGAIN?
maxverstappen1: f1 drivers are just competitive about apple bobbing as they are about driving
alexalbon: in my defence there is a sick trophy for the champ i simply cannot let anyone else win it
user12: they got a trophy made? and girlies are serious about this?
yourusername: custom trophies for apple bobbing, pumpkin carving and best costume
alexalbon: three time apple bobbing champ right here
charles_leclerc: i'm coming for best costume this year
danielricciardo: pumpkin carving was an easy dub last year
maxverstappen1: but no one has out done us for costumes thus far
yourusername: and that's not bias, there is a democratic voting process x
user13: i need to be in this friendship group right now
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yourusername
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liked by georgerussell63, maxverstappen1 and 723,409 others
tagged: maxverstappen1
yourusername: it's the most wonderful time of the year ! thanks to everyone who came out and making the spooky season special. p.s. shout out to max who found this wig while going through our costume box and insisted on not taking it off the whole set up.
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user16: NOOOOO WHY IS HALLOWEEN OVER ALREADY
user17: rip to all of us who were hoping for a sexy y/n x max costume
user18: they heard we wanted sexy and gave us ratatouille i hate their asses
oscarpiastri: okay so lando wasn't lying when he said you guys go insane for halloween
yourusername: i fear not. i hope you enjoyed your dip in the pool, we found you in a guest room in my bath robe at 3am
oscarpiastri: oops.
maxverstappen1: you fared better than others on their rookie halloween appearance, just ask lando and charles
landonorris: you told me there was no alcohol in the jelly so it's not my fault i ate the whole bowl and threw up in your shower
yourusername: wow way to blame the victims there lando, you literally blocked the drain
landonorris: MAX SAID THERE WAS NO ALCOHOL
yourusername: it was labelled with the ingredients. you just can't read
landonorris: no comment
yourusername: and charles got so drunk that he decided he would sleep on the couch but got 'lonely' and insisted on cuddling with us
charles_leclerc: Y/N!!!! YOU SAID YOU'D KEEP THAT A SECRET
maxverstappen1: don't worry we thought it was cute
carlossainz55: wait is that why you came as a "cuddle bug" this year?
charles_leclerc: NO
alexalbon: and that must be why he got best costume RIGGORY
yourusername: no riggory here, you and lily as mavis and jonathon were a close second
user19: i won't rest until i have an invite next year.
maxverstappen1
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liked by charles_leclerc, yourusername and 821,309 others
tagged: yourusername
maxverstappen1: sorting the recycling with your head barely attached is always the worst part of halloween
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user20: drunk max looks like so much fun
yourusername: i think i might drink my weight in coffee today but i need to see the kitchen floor soon before i lose my mind
user21: ma'am i know you're clinging to life rn but can we know who won what?
alexalbon: ALEX ALBON APPLE BOBBING CHAMP FOUR YEARS IN A ROW
charles_leclerc: i won best costume and it's purely because i'm cute cause NO one there knew about my cuddling escapades last year
landonorris: ugh pretty privilege back at it again
charles_leclerc: jealousy is a disease get well soon
oscarpiastri: my pumpkin ended up winning !! turns out people love a kangaroo in the ghostface mask
maxverstappen1: first rookie to win that title (i am so impressed by the kangaroo)
yourusername: you were actually so good you have to help me with all the decorative ones next year
oscarpiastri: i'm in
user21: but who won the real award - most embarrassing moment?
maxverstappen1: daniel got stuck in the door in his inflatable horse/cowboy costume
danielricciardo: NO esteban dressing as the cheese string man was worse
estebanocon: that's real creativity at least i didn't fall asleep in the bath like carlos
yourusername: not to gang up on carlos but the blanket you took in their is damaged beyond repair and i request a replacement
carlossainz55: fair, but it was me, lando and george in the tub
georgerussell63: fake news @carmenmundt
carmenmundt: i was also at the party babe, it was impressive how you all fit in there
user22: the fact they do all of this and race like two weeks later and the teams just deal with it
maxverstappen1: we've done much worse on race weekends
yourusername: someone didn't have to try and get home after abu dhabi 2021, halloween is nothing compared to that
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note: a lil halloween one for you all. i also DO NOT PLAY ABOUT HALLOWEEN. and am currently planning my costume lol. just wanted to get a small one out before all my work comes in tomorrow, much love xx
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all444miles · 9 months
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— JERSEY LUV PT.2
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— pairing: e42!miles x blackcoded!fem!reader — genre: suggestive but fluff — summary: attractive things Miles does that makes you fold. — a/n: TY YALL FOR 500 OMG N HAPPY LATE BDAY TO MY MAN + WE BACK W A PT TWOOOO, i folded js as hard w this one so i hope yall do too!! i do have those two fics comin in, im js posting this to keep yall entertained! mwah, enjoy !!
part 1 part 3 !
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MILES MORALES that's gets mad jealous, like, maddd jealous. When he's with others, he'll always call you "my girl" so that they know you're his girlfriend. He wont hesitate to kiss you in front of smb that thinks they have a chance. p.s, they don't.
MILES MORALES that cuddles for hours and won't let you leave unless your practically dying to go to the bathroom. If you try, he'll just hold you tighter.
"Nah amor, you gon stay right here." "Miles, I-" Nuh uh."
MILES MORALES who always has you sat on his lap. he's playing games? you on his lap. y'all talking? you on his lap. y'all making out? oh, you are most definitely on his lap.
speaking of making out..
MILES MORALES who has his hands all over you when you make out. there's no place it stays, your face, your neck, your hips, waist, thighs, its always there.
MILES MORALES who likes (and you do too) to have music play while yall kiss. summer walker, kehlani, he does not care. as long as its in your playlist and its slow, he's playing it.
MILES MORALES who invites you to go the gym with him. it dont matter if you actually work out or not, he just asks so he can have you there and watch him work out. he aint gon admit it though.
"ma! im bouta go to the gym, come wit me." "baby, you know ion work out." "ian ask if you wanted to. i just want you to be with me, so come onn." "you just want me to watch you, huh?" "..mami, im not bouta ask you twice, come with me."
MILES MORALES that will happily let you borrow his clothes, there's not even much of a point of trying to steal them because he's already handed them to you.
MILES MORALES who dances bachata with you in private. he's not too much of a public dancer, but when you to are in private, it's a whole different story.
MILES MORALES who will listen to you talk about anything becuase he adores your voice with all his heart. If it's something you like, he'll buy it for you, just as a reminder than he listens.
"Go on ma, keep talking to me, I'm all ears."
MILES MORALES who grabs your waist instead of saying excuse me because he knows you like it.
MILES MORALES who has most definitely graffitied a place with both y'alls initials on it.
"awwee, my man breaking the law for me." "you like it?" "love it."
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tags: @seraaphicss @laaailuh @mayeluvsu @iwannagohomesaystamaki @onginlove @sheluvv-jen @laylasbunbunny @missusmorales @thatgirlmiah @paraccosm @tinkerbelle05 @fictarian @zalayni @m4rihrts @whitejxsmine @444morales @writings-ofthe-heart
© all444miles 2023. do not plagerize, copy, or repost my work in any way shape or form, without my permission.
likes, reblogs, comments and asks are always appreciated !
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authorhjk1 · 13 days
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is it possible you make a smut about karina? where you fuck her infront of a mirror as you watch her body bounce as you rail her hard and groping every inch of her body.
P.S i really like your works and your writing is supurb, i hope you continue writing more stories.
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I apologize for the long wait. I had to put these two requests together, because I can't keep up with ones I already got and the new ones that are coming in. Hope you guys enjoy it.
Mirror Mirror on the Wall...
(Karina X Hwang Yeji X Male Reader)
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You look across the table. Dinner tasted delicious and you also prepared cake for the birthday girl. The older one of the two sisters stares down at the chocolate cake, carefully taking a bite.
It's hard to say you hate her. She is your friend's daughter after all. But you can't help it. You've watched her grow up for more than just a couple of years. You treat both sisters almost the same, but Karina started to become something that you were afraid of. A stuck up, self-centered bitch.
It's a shame actually. But by the way her mother behaves, it's not that big of a surprise. She and your friend are sitting at your table as well. You invited the family of four, because of Karina's birthday. Because you wanted to be polite. Not because you wanted Karina to be around you.
The complete opposite applies to Yeji. The younger one of the two sisters. She has her rebellious side, for sure, but she has always been a sweet sunshine. Even now, her smile lights up your dining room as she takes her first bite of the cake.
"Mmmh. It's so delicious. You are a really great cook."
You crack a smile at Yeji's compliment.
Unable to not compare the two sisters, you notice that Karina hasn't said a word. Not even a thank you. She does eat the cake, which already is something, but she is just as rude as her mother is.
You sigh in disappointment. Your friend should've done better. Of course every parent makes mistakes, but Karina's mother is just on another level. But Yeji still turned out well. You can't get behind it. What exactly went wrong?
"Please let me help."
Yeji smiles at you as she stands up to collect the rest of the plates. She is the only one of your three guests who offered her help. To be fair, her father is currently on a call with his client. Mother and daughter are both busy with their phones it seems.
"Thank you, Yeji."
"I should really come over more often."
Turning around, you see Yeji, who is walking after you into the kitchen.
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"Please don't. You are a lot of work."
"Very funny."
She puts down the plates, looks outside the kitchen and looks back at you.
"Who is your favorite? Me or Karina?"
You roll your eyes at her question. A question you've heard more than a thousand times over the last years. From both of them.
"I don't have favourites."
"Oh come on. I know you like me more."
"What would make you think that?"
"You invite me more often than her."
Holding the towel for the dishes in your hand, you throw it at her. The white cloth covers Yeji's face.
"You always come here uninvited. When was the last time I asked you to come?"
Yeji pulls the towel off of her head, pouting at you.
"You invited me for today. Didn't you?"
You turn towards your sink, getting ready to wash the dishes. Your stupid dishwasher broke two days ago.
"I invited all of you. That doesn't count."
Yeji steps next to you.
"You can be really mean sometimes."
"Just honest."
Yeji takes the cleaned plate out of your hand.
The two of you finish washing the dishes in silence. Once you are done, you motion Yeji to sit at the kitchen table.
"Got something as a reward for helping me."
"Really?"
Yeji looks at you with excitement in her eyes.
You open the door of the fridge. The young woman tries to look around you, wanting to know what you are going to give her.
"More cake?"
She smiles brightly as you turn back around.
"Not just any cake."
Grabbing two forks on your way, you sit down in front of Yeji. The cake in the middle.
"It's the cake I got from the publisher for finishing the last book."
"Wow. So that really is the last book of your series?"
You nod.
"I will write more. But I think there is not much more to tell about this one."
Yeji nods in response as well. She puts a piece of cake into her mouth.
"That's delicious."
You shush her.
"Be quiet, or we have to share"
Yeji giggles, before eating some more.
"If it was you last book though, you must've gotten a lot of fan letters and stuff."
"I did."
"Can I check them out?"
"That's kinda private, Yeji. Those people send their letters to me not you."
The young woman pouts.
"Hey, man."
Your friend walks in.
"I have to meet a client. I'm sorry about this, but I have to leave now."
"No problem, mate. I will makes sure the girls get home safely."
"Thank you."
"By dad!"
"Bye sweetie."
He kisses Yeji on the head, before he walks out.
"Well, this makes my original plan way easier."
You raise an eyebrow.
"What plan?"
"Having some alone time with you."
The tone of her voice starts changing. The sweet, innocent girl starts to fade into the background.
"Your sister and your mom are still here."
"Oh please. As if they are going to check on us."
Yeji takes another bite. More slowly this time. And with way more eye contact.
"We shouldn't be doing this with anyone around."
She gets up, walking around the table.
"No one will go into your study without permission."
"But-"
Yeji gracefully takes her seat on your lap.
"Am I right? Daddy?"
The 24 year old kinky college girl has finally found its way to the surface.
Fuck. You just can't resist her.
It happened around three or four years ago, if you remember correctly. Spending a lot of time with you growing up, Yeji naturally started to enjoy the things you enjoy too. One of them being writing. She didn't just enjoy it, she loved it. You helped her improve and let her beta read all your new stuff, before publishing it. You went with her to small classes and even competitions for young writers. It was nice to share something like this with her.
And before you could even realize what was happening, Yeji already graduated. You felt like time flew past way too quickly. But on that day, you found yourself sitting in the school's gym, applauding as she got up to receive her diploma. An honorary mention for being the founder of the school's writing club and being part of a nation wide competition was of course a given.
After only a couple of hours on the day, which should've been one of the best of her life, she stood at your doorstep, looking up at you. Her black hair a mess, puffy red eyes and tears running down her cheeks. Her father always planned for her to work at his company and eventually take over. But she decided to take a different path. The path you took. Or at least a very similar one. After she told him, she already got a scholarship at a local college, her dad wasn't fond of the idea at all. The two of them fought hard that day. The only person Yeji wanted to get comforted by that day was you.
Only a couple of minutes after she arrived and dumped all of this on you, her father called. Your friend was worried about her, since she just ran off and he didn't know where she was. You told him that she was with you and would stay the night. The two of them should have a calm discussion the next day.
Yeji was incredibly thankful and eventually went to the room she always stays in when she sleeps over. After having talked to her for several hours, you wanted to make sure that she was alright one last time, before going to bed yourself. You walked in on her lying on the big bed, her skirt on the floor, her fingers knuckle deep inside of her. The way she moaned your name is the reason why you are here now.
"Fine."
You sigh in defeat, feeling Yeji slightly grind against you.
"Go upstairs. I will tell your mom we are going to write on your project for college."
Yeji suddenly attacks you, pressing her lips against yours. Her tongue aggressively demands entrance into your mouth. The two of you engage into a hot but quick kiss.
"I'll be waiting."
With one last wink and sway of her hips, Yeji is gone.
You clear your throat, before standing up. Everytime you do this, you feel like the greatest sinner on earth. She is your friend's daughter. She is half your age. You were there on her first day of school. It always feels wrong when you think about it. And it always feels wrong afterwards. But if you only glance at Yeji, all that doubt goes out the window.
"Yeji and I are in my study in case you are looking for us. She needs help on her project."
Your friend's wife just nods, while you can see Karina rolling her eyes. You know what she thinks of her younger sister. You wish she could be only half as good as her. From what you've heard from Yeji, Karina likes her own college life. Or rather the boys in it. The stories her younger sister told you makes you think that your friend and his wife raised a self entitled slut.
Opening the big oak doors to your study and library, you see Yeji sitting at your desk.
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Her warm smile makes you walk a little faster.
"Come here."
Once you reach her, you grab Yeji's chin, tilting her head upwards to meet yours. The two of you engage in another passionate kiss. While keeping your lips locked, you start to peel Yeji off your chair. You guide her towards the edge of your desk. Yeji hops onto the wooden surface, disconnecting from your lips for only a second.
Her new position enables you to properly run your hands all over her body. She moans into your mouth as she feels you exploring every inch of her.
"(Y/n)."
Yeji sighs your name, feeling one of your hands on her ass, while the other dips underneath her top. Your reach upwards, until you find her chest. Squeezing her tits over her bra makes Yeji moan again.
She eventually brakes away due to the lack of air. She smiles back up at you, excitement sparkling in her eyes.
"Let me give you head."
Yeji slides off the edge of the desk, landing between your legs on her knees. You have to bite your lip as you watch Yeji unbuckle your belt.
"It has been so long since last time."
You chuckle at her eagerness as she pulls down your pants. Your cock springs free, landing on her beautiful face.
"Wow."
She gasps, like she does everytime.
You rub your cock all over her face. Yeji closes her eyes, enjoying the feeling of your cock.
You never met someone who was this passionate about worshipping your cock. But Yeji is one of a kind. She was more eager than skilled at first. But you've trained your friend's daughter to be your personal slut. One would never see Yeji as that, when they would meet her on the street. But she can be a naughty little devil in your ear. Especially when her family comes over, or you visit them. She always tries to sneak off with you. Just like right now.
Yeji starts to suck you off in your study. Her eyes are still closed in bliss as she savors the taste of your cock. Her blowjob becomes more messy by the second. Soon, she is almost drooling on your cock. You take a fistful of her gorgeous orange hair and you start to thrust into her mouth. Yeji moans, opening her mouth as wide as possible, relaxing her throat.
"Damn, princess."
You've always called her and her sister that. But since the two of you started having sex, this nickname has a another layer to it. A dirty one at that. Because right now, Yeji doesn't look like a princess at all. She is on her knees, drooling spit onto your cock, her thighs and the floor. Your dick starts to hit the back of her throat as you begin to thrust into her harder. Soon, only the sounds of her gags fill your study. It's a beautiful melody. One that you would love to hear every day.
Yeji takes your mouth fucking like the good girl she has been raised to be. No complaining, no dirty look, not even the hint of a struggle. She seems to be in her element.
You unfortunately don't have the stamina to keep up the pace for too long. Eventually, you have to slow down, enabling Yeji to take a proper breath through her nose. Spit is covering her chin by now. You keep thrusting into her mouth. Slow, but still with purpose. But Yeji's eyes slowly start to turn dark with lust. Signaling you that she can only hold out this long without getting touched.
After a while, you finally pull out of her completely. A tear is rolling down her cheek, which she scoops up with the back of one of her fingers. Yeji takes a moment to catch her breath properly.
"B-Bend me over."
Her voice sounds raspy and dry. Which is odd, because there is spit covering everything. Her chin, lips, shirt, thighs and the floor too.
"Your manners, Yeji."
You're reminded how often you said that years ago. When you had important visitors and the two sisters stayed at yours over the weekend.
"Sorry. Please, daddy?"
She pouts cutely. Like she always does, when she wants something.
"We still have to be quick though."
Luckily, you always keep your desk clean. Quickly putting your laptop to the side, you turn Yeji around afterwards.
"Daddy..."
She moans as she feels your hand pressing against her back, making her bend over the wooden surface. Since your desk is quite high and quite big, Yeji can barely hold onto the edge on the other side. And she has to lift her feet off the ground, if she wants to do so. Only her tiptoes stay in contact with your wooden floor.
You reach around her, quickly unbuttoning her white pants, pulling them off of her.
"You came prepared, I see."
The lack of underwear has an obvious meaning. Yeji wiggles her butt at you, tempting you to just enter her immediately.
"Just for you, daddy."
Everytime she calls you that, you can't help but think about how wrong this all is. She could be your own daughter. Buth there she is, bend over your desk, telling you what she wants you to do to her.
"Can you please fuck me now? I've waited the whole day for this. I need it..."
Yeji sighs in desperation, her cheek resting on the dark wood.
You stand behind her, aligning your cock with her wet folds. You can see them glistening, when you pull her cheeks apart a little.
"Fuck, Yeji."
You can't believe how beautiful she is. How good her body looks. You wait for just a little longer, making Yeji squirm in anticipation, before you finally push inside of her.
"Oh god!"
A deep moan echoes through your study as you part Yeji's walls. Her tight pussy is dripping wet, making it easy for you to slide into her completely. You wonder, how she is so turned on. Because of you? Because you're her dad's friend? Because she has been waiting for this all day?
You are not sure. But you can say that this makes up for all the bad attitude her sister threw in your direction today.
Soon, you find yourself indulging in the pleasure that you take from Yeji's young and tight body. Every part of her seems to be made with perfection. You can't help but let your free hand roam her body. The other one is holding her waist as you keep thrusting into her.
Reaching under her shirt, you grope her breasts. A string of moans escapes her mouth. One louder and dirtier than the previous one.
"Harder, daddy! Please!"
You finally give into her begging. You know, if you fuck her harder, you won't be able to keep your orgasm off for much longer. And you still want to enjoy more of her body.
"Get on the desk."
Yeji takes a moment to comprehend what you just said. But she eventually manages to peel herself off your desk. You turn her around and push her back on it. Now on her back, Yeji looks up at you as you start thrusting into her again.
"Yes, daddy!"
You reach forward, bunching her shirt up over her tits. You push the bra up as well, finally revealing her small perky tits. Your other hand is holding onto one of her luscious thighs. Fingers digging into her soft skin.
"Keep going..."
Yeji slowly starts to lose the ability to speak. Her words start to turn into letters loosely strung together. It tells you that she isn't far away from her own climax.
You play with her tits, kneading them and pinching a nipple occasionally.
"Oh..."
She tries to say something again, but your strong thrusts make her eyes roll back. Her head, just like her back, is rubbing against the wooden surface of the desk in the rhythm of your pounding.
Your own desire for release starts to overwhelm you. The sight of Yeji, squirming and moaning on the desk she used to sit on and watch you write a cute story for her, makes you want to ruin her completely. Both of your hands are now holding onto her full thighs, enabling you to pull her back into you way harder than before.
The sound of your skin hitting hers echo through your study, accompanied by the young girl's moans.
"Daddy! Cuming!"
Yeji cries out as the pleasure finally proves too much for her. Her body shakes atop your desk as her orgasm overwhelms her. You don't slow down, pounding her through her high as you chase your own. Yeji's body often has that affect on you. That desire to completely wreck her, leaving her a whining, dirty mess.
"Ohhh..."
Yeji's drawn out mix of moan and cry sounds like music to your ears. Her pussy contracts around you at the same time, demanding that you cum inside.
"Princess..."
You groan, realizing that you don't know if this is a safe day for her or not. You want to fill Yeji with your cum, but you don't want to knock up your friend's daughter. Yeji is too far gone to care at the moment. Her body keeps squirming on the wooden surface, moans leaving her body in irregular intervals. You try to hold on for longer, but you eventually can't stop yourself.
With the last ounce of strength you have left, you regretfully leave Yeji's snug hole. As you pull out, that last squeeze of Yeji's inner walls makes you explode. You shoot your load all over her body. Her midriff is the first thing that's covered in your cum. Her chest quickly follows as strings of your semen hit her tits.
You feel your legs weaken as you calm down yourself, taking in the view in front of you. Yeji lies on the desk, her eyes still partially closed. A light smile plays around her lips as her heavy breath makes her chest heave. Her upper body is painted with your cum as she just lies there. Like a beautiful painting. A piece of art.
You walk down the hallway, heading for the bathroom. Yeji kept you busy with her project after the two of you had some fun. She does need to finish it soon, which means you didn't lie earlier. You are really helping her.
Opening the door to the bathroom, you suddenly stop moving. You look at Karina, who is standing in the middle of the room.
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You notice her phone, which is standing on the sink, leaning against the lower part of your mirror. Karina isn't just taking a normal picture. She has hooked a finger inside her cleavage and is pulling the hem of her dress down. Despite looking at her from the side, you can see her breasts, almost completely exposed, through the mirror.
"Karina. What the hell are you doing?"
You see the young girl jumping, when she hears your voice. She looks at you as she takes her hand off her dress, letting it fall back into place. You see her roll her eyes before answering.
"Nothing."
"This doesn't look like nothing to me."
"Whatever."
Despite her disgusting attitude, Karina is still your friend's daughter and Yeji's sister. You still care for her. You glance at her phone, before looking back at her.
"Were you taking pictures of yourself?"
"So what?"
She reaches for the phone.
"Are you sending them to someone?"
"Not your business."
You hold back the desire to just give her a small clap on the head. Just a really small one.
"Karina, you shouldn't send this to anyone, whom you don't trust."
"I can do what I want."
You nod.
"That's true. I'm just saying, please be aware of the consequences."
"Stop annoying me already."
Karina is obviously checking the photos she took, while you are still trying to talk to her.
"I wouldn't need to annoy you, if you wouldn't act like this."
She raises an eye brow, but keeps looking at her phone.
"You can't tell me what to do."
Karina places the phone back on the sink. She goes through her hair, looking at the mirror. She hasn't even looked at you properly yet since you came in. It makes your blood boil even more.
"Actually, I can. This is my house. Plus, I'm your godfather."
"Oh no, I'm scared."
You watch as she bites on her nail and winks at the phone. You hear it taking a picture. She probably used a timer or something.
You take a deep breath.
"Get out."
She keeps going as if she didn't hear you. When she is about to pull the top of her dress down again, you stop her by grabbing her arm.
"I. Said. Get out."
You speak through your teeth, trying to stay calm. You pull her towards the door.
"Ouch. Stop it!"
Karina uses both hands to push you away. You let go, expecting her to get her phone and walk out on her own. Your eyes widen when you see her standing in front of the mirror again, hooking a thumb underneath one of the straps on her shoulders, smiling at the phone.
"You can wait outside, you know."
You were already annoyed by her attitude during the meal earlier. Her manners are pretty much non existent. You managed to hold yourself back. And Yeji did an incredible job to make up for her older sister's behavior. But there is only so much you can take. If Karina was a couple of years younger, you would've just picked her up and carried her out. You used to do that, when she was being a brat at an younger age.
"Karina."
You realize your tone has become threatening. You reach out for her shoulder, wanting to stop her from letting the strap fall off of it. She swats your hand away. It lands in her hair. And before you can even think about it. You've already taken a fistful.
"One last time. Get. Out."
You growl into her ear.
"Let me go!"
She tries to push you away again, but this time you stay steady.
"Stop it. You know I'm stronger than you."
"I'm gonna tell dad!"
"So what? You think he is gonna like the fact you take this kind of pictures of yourself?
Karina winces as you tug at her hair a little too hard.
"Leave me alone you ass!"
She finally reached the limit. She broke the last wall of self restraint you had left.
You push her against the sink, slightly bending her over it. The both of you stare at each other in the mirror. She finally looks at you properly.
"Stop being a rude bitch first."
The words left your mouth before you could think about them. You planned on saying something different. They just came out. You almost expect Karina to cry, when you see her eyes grow wide.
"Fuck you!"
You were wrong.
Karina reaches behind her with one hand to push you away. The other holds onto the sink.
"No. Fuck you. You have no manners at all."
"So what, huh!?"
She glares at you through the mirror, slightly raising her chin.
"Apologize and behave properly. Or this will have consequences."
You used to say that line when the two sisters were younger. It always worked. You were like a fun uncle for them. Whenever you became this serious, they knew they did something wrong.
But now, Karina just scoffs.
"I'm not ten anymore. What are you gonna do? Punish me?"
"I will."
"Oh, please. I'm a grown woman. I can do what I want."
"Not under my roof."
You point at her phone.
"Delete the pictures you took and go downstairs."
"No."
"Karina..."
You growl, pushing her forward with your hand on the back of her head. She stumbles against the sink.
"Delete them."
"No."
Karina crosses her arms and glares at you, once she has regained her composure. You reach for it yourself. She tries to stop you, but you are too strong for her.
"Give it back!"
You take a step back and hold her in place. Since your arms are longer than hers, Karina can't reach for her phone.
You delete the first to pictures without even looking at them. But when you see more and more of them, you start to realize how sexy she looks in them.
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What she lacks in manners and attitude, she seems to make up for with her body. You can't deny the fact that Karina's beauty rivals her sister's.
Once you are done, you look at her again.
"Did you seriously just delete all of them?"
Karina asks with disbelief in her voice.
"Yes. Now, get out."
"No. I need some content for this weekend. You just deleted like twenty pictures or something."
"What content?"
You furrow your eye brows.
"None of your business. Give me my phone back."
You ignore her outstretched hand, quickly scanning through the apps on her phone. You see a white icon with a blue O on it. You realize what she is doing.
"Are you serious?"
"What?"
You show her what you found.
"So? I need to pay my bills somehow."
"Does your father know about this?"
"Don't you dare."
Karina glares at you.
"Oh trust me. I will tell him."
"No way."
Now she finally looks a little concerned.
"Karina, you shouldn't be doing this. Just because you look nice, doesn't mean you have to sell your body for some money."
"You think I look nice?"
She mockingly raises and eyebrow.
"That's wasn't my point Karina."
"Come on, you can be honest. Do you know how much guys pay me for these pictures?"
"I don't give a fuck."
"But I do. If you are gonna tell on me, I'm gonna tell on you too."
"I'm a grown man and your dad's friend. What could you possible know about me that would be worth his time?"
"Hmm, I don't know. Maybe the fact his best friend rails his daughter on a regular basis?"
"What?"
You are too surprised to hide it. You and Yeji made sure that no one would find out. You were always careful. How...?
"See? Seems like I do have something of value."
"How do you know?"
"Me and Yeji share a dorm at college. Whenever she doesn't see you for longer than a week, she plays with herself, when she thinks I'm asleep. I can't believe she calls you daddy."
You close your eyes in disbelief. Yeji... Why does she have to be so fucking horny all the time?
"Fine. Alright. I won't tell on you. You won't tell on me."
A sly, victorious smile plays around Karina's lips.
"Deal."
"That doesn't change the fact that you are rude all the time."
"I'm not rude."
It's your turn to raise an eyebrow.
"I have my reasons."
You let go of her hair earlier. She crosses her arms in front of her, looking away.
"I don't care what your reasons are. So leave."
You gesture towards the door.
Karina doesn't move.
"You deleted all the pictures. I need new ones."
"I still don't like what you are doing. Leave."
She shakes her head.
"Help me with this."
You realize that your argument isn't flawless.
"You're my friend's daughter. No way."
"Seriously? You creampie my sister, but you don't want to fuck me?"
How are you going to get out of this?
"I'm not shooting a movie here or something. If you want someone to fuck you on camera, find a pornstar or something."
Karina rolls her eyes.
"That's where you draw the line?"
"Karina..."
She ignores you, taking the phone out of your hand.
"You don't need to do anything but fuck me. Shouldn't be that hard."
She sets the camera to record, before placing it back on the sink.
You think about it for a moment. It really isn't that hard. You are fucking Yeji already. So why not go all the way? It's not like she is gonna tell her dad.
Karina leans over the sink, looking back at you over her shoulder.
"Give it to me. Daddy."
That last word makes you jump into action.
It sounds so much different to when Yeji says it. The younger one uses more affection. Whenever she says it, you feel like she would do anything for you. Or rather your cock.
When Karina says it, it's sounds more lustful. Maybe even slightly condescending.
Yeji is the good girl, while Karina is the bad one.
You quickly unbuckle your belt and let your pants drop to the floor. Karina watches you through the mirror as you reach for the hem of her dress.
She glances at the phone, when she feels you pushing her dress up. You reveal her ass. Slightly bigger than Yeji's. You can't help but compare. Your hands wander over her skin. The same thrill you feel whenever you have sex with Yeji enters your body. The thrill of doing something forbidden. The fact that she is filming this makes it even hotter, now that you think about it.
"Don't tease me, daddy."
A knowing smile plays on Karina's lips.
You align your cock with her entrance. Her wet folds make it easy to slip inside. It seems like taking the pictures earlier turned her on.
"Damn, daddy."
Karina breaths heavily as you push inside. For some illogic reason you expected her to be not as tight as Yeji. You are proven wrong.
"Fuck you are tight."
You can't help but give her ass a rewarding spank.
"That's right daddy. Punish me for being such a slut."
You slap her again and again with every inch you push further into her. Karina moans whenever you do so. Her body is being pushed forward with every slap. Her ass cheeks jiggle deliciously.
Once you bottom out inside of her, you look at Karina in the mirror. Her half lid eyes stare back at you. She is biting her lip, trying to contain a loud moan.
You place both your hands on her waist, pushing down a little. Karina's back arches as a result, enabling you to push just a little bit further.
"Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck."
It seems like you've reached her limit. Karina hisses as she tries to get accustomed to your cock.
"If I had known you are this big..."
She isn't able to finish her sentence, when you pull out of her.
You watch Karina's eyes roll back as your cock rubs against the length of her inner walls.
"Don't give me all the credit."
You chuckle as you push back inside.
"Fuck."
Another moan escapes Karina's lips.
"Am I tighter than my sister?"
A question you've never even dreamed of hearing. One so dirty, you never thought one of them would be able to say it.
"You are."
Your honest answer makes her smirk. You wipe it off her face a moment later. Because you start fucking her properly now.
"Holy shit."
Karina watches as you thrust into her again and again. Your hips snap against hers, making the sounds echo through the bathroom. She tries to silence herself once again by biting her lip, but your thrusts prove to be too much for her. Eventually, her mouth hangs open, lewd sounds coming from the deepest parts of her throat.
Your eyes, which were focused on her face, are now slowly wandering downwards. You get captivated by the way her tits move, while you fuck her. Reaching forward with one hand, you grope Karina's boobs over her dress.
They are bigger than Yeji's. You don't have to touch her to know it. It's obvious.
"You like mine more than my sister's. Right?"
Karina manages to ask another question like this.
"I would like you more if you would just shut up."
Another grin flashes across her face.
"If I'm still talking, you are just not fucking me hard enough."
You take it as a challenge. With one hand now in her hair and the other on her waist, you start to fuck Karina harder and faster. You push her against the sink with every thrust into her. A red line where she hits the sink appears on her skin.
"Look at yourself. Getting fucked in someone else's bathroom like a whore."
You don't know where these words came from. This situation, Karina herself, makes you do things you never thought of doing. You pull at her hair, forcing her to lift her head, which dropped between her shoulders earlier.
Karina's wide eyes stare at you as you take her from behind. Her tight walls squeeze you and try to stop you from leaving, whenever you pull back.
"Mmh, yes."
Karina moans, some spit falling out of her mouth in the process. She starts to lose her composure as you hit just the right spot with every single thrust. Her and Yeji's body feel similar to you. You can tell where her sensitive spots might be and you stimulate them properly, making a squirming mess out of the young woman.
You move your hand from her waist to her shoulders, quickly pulling the straps of her dress off. The upper half slips down her body, until the whole dress is bunched up right above her waist.
Karina's tits sway from side to side as you pound her from behind. You take one of them into your hand, squeezing it and earning another deep moan.
By now, you think Karina has forgotten about her phone. She seems to let herself go, submitting to your thrusts. Your hand keeps exploring her voluptuous chest, squeezing her tits and tugging at her nipples randomly.
Your cock in her pussy keeps hitting just the right spots. The combination of your pounding and your groping has Karina moaning and shivering. She watches herself getting fucked. It's something she starts to enjoy very much. Her pussy tightens even more around you in response.
You let your hand explore more of her body, while the other one keeps her head in place by holding her hair. You admire her collarbone and shoulders for a moment, before quickly moving past her chest. You feel the toned muscles of her stomach underneath your palm. As you keep fucking her and your hand moves further down, you could swear you can feel your cock through her belly.
You press against the spot and suddenly, Karina starts to shake more, her pussy squeezing you tighter.
"Daddy, fuck!"
It's the last words she manages to force out. From that moment onwards, Karina is a mumbling mess. You can't tell what she is trying to say. Her lips quiver uncontrollably. Her pussy is almost painfully tight as you feel more and more of her fluids leaking out of her.
Eventually, your hand reaches her clit. You start rubbing it, encouraging her with your fingers to cum on your cock. Karina's closed eyes shoot open. Saliva still drips from her parted lips.
"Ohhhh!"
A loud cry is the only thing she can do to announce her orgasm. Karina watches herself climaxing. She sees how her body twitches and squirms. How her muscles on her midriff seem to flex. She feels her own pussy tightening around your cock, contracting uncontrollably. Her arms and legs grow weak.
You keep fucking Karina through her orgasm. She can't do anything but take it. She can't tell you to stop. She tries to watch herself as long as possible. But when you somehow drive yourself into the deepest depths of her vagina, Karina's eyes roll to the back of her head. She sees stars, her mind eventually breaking from the pleasure.
You feel yourself chasing your own orgasm as you watch your friend's daughter through the mirror. Her breath has left fog on the glass. Only now do you realize her hands don't rest on the sink anymore. They are pressed against the surface of the mirror.
The sight of Karina like this slowly makes you reach your high.
"Fuck, Karina. Your pussy is gonna milk me dry."
You manage to push out the words as you try to hang on as long as possible. Her tight snatch keeps squeezing your cock, making it harder for you to properly fuck her like before.
"Let me taste your cum, daddy. I need it."
Karina's eyes reflect her desire and need for your cum. She almost unconsciously licks her lips.
You count to ten, trying to stay as long as possible inside of her. You want to savor every last second of her tight pussy wrapped around your cock.
But you have to pull out eventually. You leave the snug tightness of her snatch.
"Come here."
Karina drops to the tile covered floor, kneeling in front of you.
Just like you held Yeji an hour ago, you grab Karina's chin. But not to kiss her. You make her crawl towards the glass wall of your shower.
You press her cheek against it, signaling her to stay like this. The sight quickly makes you cum.
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You start to shoot your load all over Karina's face. You paint her skin with your cum. She looked almost cute a moment ago. Now, she looks like a cheap whore.
"Fuck, that tastes good."
Karina is sucking her finger clean, after having scooped up some of your cum. You can't believe you came on both of your friend's daughters within two hours.
The older of the two now looks up at you, her tongue cleaning the cum off her face around her mouth.
"Would you like to become my partner for my content? You would get a cut off the profit."
"Karina-"
"You think we can convince Yeji to join us?"
"I don't think we should-"
"I think people are gonna be willing to pay if they know the two of us are actual sisters."
It feels like you are drowning in sin. It's bad enough you had sex with one of your friend's daughters more times than you could count. You now managed to fuck the older sister as well. And now she wants you to help her make money by filming you, fucking her and her sister?
"This isn't right Karina."
You try to do the right thing. But that ship has kinda sailed already. And you can't deny that a threesome with the two sisters would be mind blowing.
"Come on, daddy. You can do with me what you want. As long as we film it. And I'm pretty sure you are already using Yeji like a sex toy anyway."
932 notes · View notes
wordstome · 6 months
Text
COD Men as Dream Daddy DILFs
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Call of Duty single dads x gn!single parent reader
⤐Characters: 141 + König + Horangi + Keegan
⤐Premise: You just moved into a neighborhood with a high population of retired military personnel.
*glances at my 3-4 wips* let's talk about some dilfs, shall we? ...Don't look at me. I had a vision. (No relation to the actual characters from Dream Daddy, just a similar premise) Also a disclaimer: I'm writing these dads mostly in their late 30s to 40s, but don't think about their ages and the ages of their kids too much. This is all vibes. And sorry ahead of time if I gave one of the kids the same name as you 💀 Feel free to imagine the kid has a different name because the names really don't matter
p.s. I wanted to write more characters but I had to reel myself in. I could be persuaded to write a part 2 with Vaqueros, Nikolai, Valeria, Nikto, and other Ghosts tbh
Warning: this shit is LENGTHY. Strap yourself in.
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Price: A post about DILFs and you expect me not to start with Captain John Price? Price is the lynchpin of this cul de sac. He's the one inviting everyone over to the barbecue, tries to get the dads to get along, and gives everyone advice. He has the quintessential dad energy. He 100% slaps his knees and says "well!" when he gets up. Price also has major girl dad energy. He's got three adorable little ladies, aged 3 (Clara), 9 (Brianna), and 11 (Alice). Yes, he did name his daughters in ABC order, I can see him doing that. Oh, he dotes on his girls, and they love their dad endlessly. He's the model father: recitals, sports, parent teacher conferences, you name it, he's there.
That's how the two of you meet: he comes up to you at one of the aforementioned events and gives you a firm handshake and apologizes profusely for not coming around to introduce himself earlier. It's not like him not to at least swing by, and he hopes you can forgive him the discourtesy. He hands you his number and says anything you need, just give him a call, or maybe swing by for a beer sometime. He gives you a wink that makes your knees weak, a wink that says he definitely noticed you checking out his muscled arms and broad shoulders. Maybe you will swing by for that beer sometime—and maybe get a little more than just a drink.
Ghost: I could see Simon having a one night stand kid. He certainly never saw himself starting a family after he lost his last one, but he was stressed and probably piss drunk as well. Years and years later, he's back from deployment and finds a social worker with a boy on his doorstep, and the rest is history. I love the idea of Simon with a moody 16 year old, but I actually see Simon and his son having the same dynamic as Mike and Abby Schmidt from the FNAF movie. Since Simon wasn't around for Caden's early childhood, they have a relationship that's undeniably father and son, but leaning towards casual and sibling-like. Simon's figuring his shit out, dealing with his PTSD and the various lasting health issues his time in special forces has left him with, and Caden's a quiet, sensitive 10 year old boy who thinks the world of his dad.
You meet Simon at the local bar. His Ghost days are long behind him, but the balaclava's a hard habit to kick. Besides, he doesn't need people staring at his scars. He's usually there with the 141, but today he's alone, and looks like he could use some company. You sit up at the bar close to him and order a drink, but you don't disturb him, and he visibly relaxes when he realizes you're not going to try to make small talk. It becomes a routine, the two of you: always sharing a quiet drink together at the bar, and then both of you wordlessly go home to your kids. You have a sort of silent conversation every time: Good to see you again. Yeah, you too. Neither of you actually speak a word to the other until Price introduces you to him at a gathering, and you finally hear his voice. "We've met before," he says, with a glint in his eye that suggests perhaps he'd like to be more than just a silent drinking buddy. That's fine with you: you're dying to see what's under the mask and dark hoodie.
Soap: JOCK ALERT. Johnny's basically Craig from Dream Daddy: total dreamboat who goes on runs around the neighborhood and gets all the appreciative looks from the local moms. He thrives on the attention in a way that definitely makes the 141 roll their eyes. He's got an older little girl named Elodie, and a lil baby boy Thomas that he takes everywhere with him. Obviously he's just being a responsible parent taking care of an infant, but secretly, Thomas is a great conversation starter with aforementioned local moms.
Conversely however, it's Johnny who makes the move on you first. Maybe in the grocery store, maybe at one of Price's get-togethers. Sidles up to you and introduces himself with a look in his eye that means trouble. Only the good kind of trouble, of course. If you reciprocate and he finds out you're single, you're not getting rid of him. But why would you want to, anyway? He's endlessly charming, attentive, and good with his hands. When he's fixing a leaky tap for you, of course—what did you think I meant?
Gaz: Kyle "Gaz" Garrick is a fucking heartthrob. I'm saying it right here, right now. He's a walks in with flowers, makes you dinner kind of partner. Also househusband vibes, because, surprise: Kyle is still married. This isn't a Joseph (Dream Daddy) situation, though: he and his wife, Emily, have known each other for a long time, a very high school sweethearts situation. Over the years, though, they drifted apart with Kyle in the military, and Emily eventually realized she's not actually into men. They're still married for coparenting purposes: they've got an older teenage girl named Violet, and a younger boy named Elliott. (Yes, I'm naming him after Elliot Knight, sue me.)
Honestly, I think it would be HILARIOUS if you met Kyle on a dating app and realized he's your next-door neighbor. But however you guys meet, Kyle is an old-school courter kind of guy. He is taking you on dinner dates, listening to you rant about your day, and is on your doorstep in a heartbeat when you call him in a panic because your kid's running a 105 fever (41 in Celsius) and you need a ride to the emergency room. (Not that the other dads wouldn't do the same, but I'm trying to convey "most reliable man in the world" vibes here.)
König: Y'all...you don't know how much fucken time I've spent thinking about this man as a dad. He's in the same boat as Ghost where he never saw himself living long enough to start a family, but here he is with the most precious little girl you've ever laid eyes on. Ava's got her father's curly hair and big green eyes, and she has her dad wrapped around her pinky finger. For König, Ava is living proof that he's capable of being more than just a tool for violence.
You meet König through Ava, of course. Your kids are the closest of friends, and the two of them are constantly going over to each other's houses. You're obviously delighted that your kid is making new friends and fitting in so well, but you'd be lying if your heart didn't skip a beat whenever you open your door to see Ava's six foot ten dad standing there with soft eyes and a sheepish smile. I have to stop here, because I've already written an extra paragraph for this man that I've cut out and pasted for safekeeping in my notes app, and if encouraged I will write more. (Please encourage me.)
Horangi: I know we already had a sort of Robert (Dream Daddy) figure with Ghost, but I think Horangi is a dad whose kid is an adult, much like Robert and Val. I also think that out of all the dads, Horangi is likely the one who's still doing some level of military work. Either that, or he has a very demanding job that takes up a lot of his time. He's ashamed of the way he let his gambling affect his family in the past, and is making up for it by being responsible and keeping his finances in order.
You don't meet him until you've lived in the neighborhood for quite a while, but he pops up at a gathering, talking quietly with König in a corner. You'd thought you had met every neighbor in the cul de sac, so you're intrigued by the newcomer. Someone, probably Price, tells you what Hong-jin's deal is, and ever since that you just can't keep your eyes off of him. You can't quite work up the nerve to talk to him, so you occupy yourself talking with the other parents. Some time later, you're at the food table grazing on the snacks when you look up and make eye contact with him. There's something intense in his gaze that makes you freeze, like a deer in headlights. He's definitely checking you out, you think. Your chest erupts into nervous butterflies when he starts walking towards you.
Keegan: Keegan is an adoptive father! I love his dynamic with the Walker boys, so I can see him being the kind of guy who adopts an older teenager so they have a home and a family instead of aging out of the system. Jason and Cecelia are high school age siblings who would have been separated otherwise, and consider Keegan their dad in every way that's important.
I think you and Keegan are definitely rivals in some way. Maybe it's a PTO thing, maybe he gets a little too boisterous at your kids' sports game. Whatever it is, you can't stand the man, but your annoyance whenever he's around only seems to amuse him. You have no problem saying to his face exactly what you think about him, but unfortunately, Keegan can see right through you. And hey, Cecelia could use some experience as a babysitter, so you won't have to worry about spending the night over at his place, will you?
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As always, I wanna hear peoples' thoughts and feedback! If you want to hear more about these dads, drop me an ask <3
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signedkoko · 3 months
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Hii! Could I request a semi-romantic (idk what to call it lol basically like a lil soft/gentle romance) Alastor x reader? Reader is also an overlord but unlike Alastor, who's always smiling and looking for entertainment, they are very serious and rises in the ranks by threats and fear rather than making deals or contracts.
Alastor X Reader [Romantic]
In which the both of you are overlords, though you are far less cheerful and use darker means to accelerate your power. Reader is genderneutral.
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Usually, Alastor hated the quiet, stoic types—those who thought they were too important for others
Well, he hated a lot of things, but he didn't let it show
The first time you met was at the overlord meeting after another extermination; you were one of the newer overlords
He could tell you were new because you didn't seem sure of where you were going, but you followed him and the strange egg attached to his hip the moment you realized who he was
Your face didn't move much, and your eyes seemed dull and unreadable
His first instinct was to judge, but he stopped himself
If you were an overlord, certainly you were of interest to him
During the meeting, he found your voice soothing; it stayed at a neutral tone, almost melodic with how smooth it carried, he listened carefully to how you conducted your speech carefully
Judging by Carmilla's words, you had overtaken two of the lesser overlords in your first year, and you had an unshakable grip on your territories
Impressive, but not unique
You weren't very talkative when he tried to strike up a conversation, but you never ignored him, always providing at least some kind of answer, even if it was repetitive
He was not someone you'd try against anyhow; no, he had a feeling some of your motives had been inspired by his own
Whenever someone tried to talk back to either of you, you delt with them and twisted their minds in ways that had them questioning themselves
You were just so interesting, and you were one of the first to not ask him for anything
Alastor is very traditional, so after months of being around one another, he found it appropriate to invite you out for tea, where he asked you to intertwine fates with his
The answer was probably the most emotional he'd ever seen you
" Certainly. "
How touching that you said more than yes or no!
But really, you are his pride and joy, someone he only introduces to those he really trusts or really loathes
If you ever show any outward emotion or ask something, he is always by your side
It's so rare, and every its time, it'says for a logical reason
Alastor might tease you to smile a tad more, even if he knows he's never seen you do it unless you've just gotten the upper hand in a fight
Both of you are fine just being in each other's company, you sit next to each other at any gathering or link arms; more often than not, it's Alastor initiating physical contact
A total power couple, though!
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Author's Note - Thank you so much for requesting! I wasn't sure what you meant by gentle romance so I just kept it at the same level I usually work with. Despite this, I hope it is still what you are looking for!
P.S; this is my 100th post! It is also the last I have in my inbox, so my requests are now open.
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azrielwingspan · 2 months
Text
SOON (THEO NOTT X READER)
Summary : Theodore Nott was just another Slytherin asshole to most of Hogwarts. But to you, he was something much much more.
Themes : Mild kissing and swearing.
A/N : This is my first Theo fic AHHH. Just thought I would give it a shot. Let me know how it is!
P.S.- This is strictly a one shot. There will be no part 2.
"He is quite charming isn't he?" Ginny commented sneaking a glance at Theodore Nott. Seated at the Slytherin table between his usual rowdy gang of friends, he smirked at something Lorenzo had said.
"I think the word you're looking for is enigmatic, Gin. For all we know, he could be Voldemort in disguise." you stated flatly, stabbing a piece of potato on your plate. Earning a smack on the arm for using You-know-who's name so boldly, you ignored Ginny's attempts at convincing you to attend the party being thrown tonight.
"Help me understand why you're so bloody against the idea?! Is it because you have to bring a date?" she raised her eyebrows in question.
"That may be a part of the reason." you refused to meet her owl like stare, instead choosing to focus on the copy of the Daily Prophet in front of you.
"Why would that be an issue ? I can name five people off the top of my head who would say yes instantly." she prodded further, thankfully choosing to redirect her gaze towards the mail she'd received. Taking advantage of her momentary distraction, you snuck a glance at Theodore again. The sleeves of his uniform were rolled upto his elbow and you greedily took in the sight of his veiny forearms.
"What are you looking at?" Ginny broke you out of the reverie, your eyes immediately flitting towards the shawl Pansy was wearing.
"Pansy's new shawl. I can't recall which store I've seen it in but it looks very familiar." The lie rolled out smoothly, misleading Ginny. The pang of guilt ,that never lessened in impact, hit you yet again.
"Oh. Yeah, it does look quite familiar now that you mention it." She went off on a tangent about clothes and you let out a relieved sigh.
Ginny couldn't know. Not for now atleast.
The morning went on, your focus elsewhere during most of the classes. Ginny hadn't brought up the party again but you knew it was unavoidable. You were definitely acting quite strange. Not being the one to turn down an invite, your sudden refusal to attend this massive party did come as a surprise to your friends.
You had your reasons. Utterly selfish reasons.
However as the evening rolled by, Ginny had cornered you into agreeing. On bringing up the issue of the date, she'd simply shrugged and said "I took care of it."
That did not sound very reassuring.
It was worse than you had expected.
"CORMAC MC FUCKIN LAGGEN ?!?" you hissed at Ginny , your back to the boy in question.
Ginny looked away sheepishly and said "He told Hermione who told me that he had a thing for you. So I thought you guys could talk? I mean you don't have to really. Just drop him off in a corner."
"Drop him---" pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration, you whipped around to face Laggen and gave him a saccharine smile.
"Nice to meet you Laggen but I'm not interested."
He looked astounded, trying to wrap his head around the rejection. After a few seconds, he managed to sputter out "We haven't talked yet. How can you--"
"Yes. Yes I can. You have my permission to tell everyone I'm your date but please don't approach me again. Bye." you sauntered off into the party, Ginny keeping up behind you.
"Where's Harry anyways?" you asked, straining your neck to see past the crowd.
"Running late. Neville set his pants on fire so Ron and Harry are helping him out."
Shaking your head in amusement, you let your eyes run around the room searching for him.
There.
Theo sat on the couch near the fireplace, one arm thrown around the back , a glass of amber liquid in the other. The smoke from Mattheo's cigarette made his figure hazy.
"I'm gonna go grab a drink." Ginny said her voice floating by. You nodded distractedly , your attention held captive by Theo.
As if sending your presence behind him , he turned his head around and met your eyes. Slight confusion marred his face making his eyebrows furrow. He hadn’t expected you to be here.
Signalling to you with a quick nod of his head, he excused himself from his group of friends and made his way to his dorms. You stayed down for a couple more minutes , getting yourself a drink to throw off suspicion.
“Hey, I didn’t think you’d come tonight. Ginny change your mind?” Pansy popped out of the blue , startling you.
“Uh.. Pansy, hey. Yeah you know how Gin is.” Pansy was a bit of a talker. Aware that this conversation could go on forever , you tried to come up with an excuse. “Hey listen, I’ve got to use the bathroom real quick. I’ll find you again alright?”
Not waiting for a response , you made your way in the direction of the bathrooms and took a sharp turn in the opposite direction once you made sure Pansy had redirected her attention. Sneaking up the stairway to the boys dorm, you took a moment for yourself outside Theo’s dorm room, straightening out your clothes.
“Took you long enough.” His voice drawled as you entered his room, the familiar surroundings providing a sense of comfort.
“Pansy almost started a conversation.” You said laughing lightly at his wide eyed expression.
“Didn’t take you long then.” He corrected his previous statement , prowling towards you.
“No. I guess it didn’t.”
Wrapping an arm around your waist, he pulled you into a searing kiss that had you holding onto his shirt for balance. The words 'I missed you' played at the tip of your tongue struggling to be let out.
He nipped at your lower lip , a breathy sigh leaving you as you tangled your hands in his hair.
"Cormac Mc fuckin Laggen? Seriously?" Theo muttered , lowering his head to place soft kisses across your jaw. Leaning your head back to give him more access, you let out a soft laugh. "That's exactly what I said. Ginny is the real culprit."
A strangled moan left your lips as he sucked at your neck, immediately soothing it with a sloppy kiss. "T-Theo..you idiot. That's gonna leave a mark." He just hummed in response seemingly lost in the pleasure. Tugging his head back, you made him meet your gaze head on.
"If we stay up here for any longer, they'll suspect." A shiver passed through you as his hands trailed lower and cupped you arse, pulling your hips to his. "Let them." he said dropping his head to capture your lips once more.
"THEO, YOU IN THERE ??" Blaise Zabini's voice boomed through the door making you jump. A string of Italian curses left Theo's mouth as he ran a hand through his hair.
"Yeah give me a minute!"
Cupping your face in his hands, he leaned down to your face placing you at eye level. "It'll all be over soon alright? We won't have to hide anymore. We can be free." The promise in his eyes lit a spark of hope within you, a rush of adrenaline coursing through your veins.
"Soon." you whispered , your eyes fluttering shut as you placed a kiss on his Dark Mark.
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lovelettersfromluna · 7 months
Text
After Dark
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Summary: It’s a universal rule that every ghost face at a Halloween party is hot underneath. Let’s test that theory, shall we?
an: AHHH OKAY! Lemme explain. I made a post about participating in kinktober, and while a lot of you wanted me to, I feel like it’s too late for me to properly participate. HOWEVER, I still want to give you something to kick off the weekend! Something spooky AND smutty for all my ghouls out there. I hope you’re all having a good Halloweekend! Pls stay safe and have lots of fun, I’m sure you all have the cutest costumes planned! Also, I took a different approach to reader, so let me know how you guys like her!! 🖤🖤 p.s I was drunk when I wrote this :p
Warnings: SMUT!!! 18+, MDNI, porn with no plot, strap-on sex, mentions of the word “cock”, mask kink, alcohol usage, mentions of latex, riding, cliche house party trope, slight sugar mommy!ellie if you squint??, lmk if I missed anything!
Out of all of three hundred and sixty five days of the year, today was your favorite.
Today was the one day within the year that there weren’t really any rules. You could wear anything, be whoever you wanted, and it was socially acceptable to get drunk while doing so, and there was no way in hell you would ever pass up on that.
No matter the circumstances, you were invited to a Halloween party. Whether it was some cheesy bash that was being thrown at a friend of a friends house, or a more upscale party, you were going out.
And you always looked damn good doing so.
You were always praised on your costumes, every year it was expected of you to top what you did the last, so there was no doubt in the fact that you were putting in maximum effort year after year.
This year? You stuck with one of the classics of course. The devil.
You were dripping in skin tight latex, the black corset you wore that pushed your boobs out perfectly, your soft skin nearly spilling out of the tight top, the tight booty shorts that hugged the globes of your ass, your cheeks peeking out, the gloves that hugged your arms, and the thigh high socks that shined under the moonlight, everything you wore was that delicious shiny material that made you look almost unreal.
And underneath it all? You had painted your entire body red, paired with fake red horns peeking out of your pretty hair.
So yeah, you were almost always crowned as the queen of Halloween.
This year was no different, halloweekend had been kicked off with quite the everything shower, making sure your body was in perfect condition for everything you’d be attending. You had gotten ready with your friends at your apartment, getting a few shots in before making it to the biggest party of the year. Everyone looked forward to it, putting together their best costumes for the party at the house that almost everyone died to get into.
Walking down the streets of the city on Halloween was like Christmas, various characters from movies and cartoons cheering, dancing, all social barriers that were put up every other day of the year were down, the veil being lifted for one night that allowed anything to be game.
The amount of whistles you and your friends received on your way there was almost appalling, not to mention the amount of people who told you they’d let you torture them any day. You thought that was cute.
Soon enough, the sounds of the party were near, and you could see the red lights spilling out of the big house in the middle of the block, and you knew it was time.
Eyes were on you immediately, and it made you giggle as you scoped out the food group that was there tonight. Of course you knew they’d stare, drool over you with their mouths open, begging for just a moment of your time.
But you were a very picky girl.
Ignoring their advances was like second nature, all you had to do, was shake your ass, drink some free liquor, and wait for the perfect person to take up your time for the night.
And as always, that never took long for you.
Your hips swayed to the music, eyes closed as you enjoyed one of the best parts of parties. The alcohol you drank made your body warm up in the best way, made every touch on your body feel so much more intense, all while numbing out everything else. It made you feel alive, it made you raise your arms above your head and simply let the music move you.
It was only a moment, your eyes drifting open to make sure your friend was still in front of you, and you’re sure if you hadn’t, you would’ve missed it.
Across the room, stood a tall figure. She wore a loose black t shirt, baggy black jeans, black boots….
And a ghost face mask.
The figure was turned towards you, leaning against the wall with a red solo cup clasped between a hand, a pretty tattoo bleeding into it. Anyone else would have seen it, and thought that whoever it was, was extremely fucking creepy. Everyone knew that ghost face was one of the creepiest people you could choose to be for Halloween ever.
But it just so happened, that you’ve always had a thing for masked killers.
Although you couldn’t see the eyes of the person behind the mask, you could feel them, and it made you burn from the inside. You bit your bottom lip softly, throwing back the rest of the alcohol in your cup before you turned your body more towards them, giving them a good view of your body. You began dancing, putting on a show for them, your glove glad hands running up and down your body, your neck, your boobs, your waist, practically having sex on the dance floor with yourself, all for this stranger who was most definitely watching you.
You feel like you have x-ray vision, because although you can’t see her face, you can see the way she grips her cup tighter whenever you sway your hips, turning around to give her a nice view of your ass. You see the way she shifts her weight onto her other foot whenever your hand runs over the curve of your tits. When you really know you’ve got her, is when you rest your hands on your friends hips, and pull her into your crotch, your eyes never leaving the ghost face mask. You know you’ve got her because she sets her cup down, raises her long, skinny fingers, and silently calls you over before she makes her way down one of the hallways in the house.
And suddenly, a game of cat and mouse begins.
You almost never chase anyone at a party, you’re always the one that’s being chased. However, there’s something about this ghost face. There’s an aura radiating off of her, one that’s dripping of lust, screaming at you, telling you she’s got exactly what you need, exactly what you’re looking for during these stupid Halloween parties.
So you break your little streak, and as soon as she calls you, you’re following her.
The house is lit up with all different colors, the kitchen was purple, the living room was pink, everywhere you turned was another tinted space that fit the Halloween vibe perfectly.
As you look around for your ghost face, you can’t help but huff softly. It almost feels as if she’s disappeared into thin air, as if the alcohol in your system made you hallucinate the entire thing. You begin to question yourself, a soft pout on your lips as you make your way down the final place to look for her.
But of course, you finally find her leaned up against one of the hallways, and of course it’s completely lit up red.
You tug your bottom lip between your teeth as you smile, making you way towards her. Once you’re standing in front of her, you expect her to take off the mask, show her who it is that’s hiding behind that silly mask.
But she doesn’t
You giggle softly, your hand toying with the hem of her shirt as you stare up at her with big doe eyes.
“You gonna show me the pretty face you’re hiding under that mask?” You purr out, and the ghost face simply shakes her head. It makes you pout, tugging at her shirt gently as you lean into her a bit, but still keeping your body a ways away from hers.
“But…how am I supposed to talk to you if I can’t see you” you whine, hoping that this little pouty act will get you what you want. It usually does, but this ghost face seems far too stubborn for that. She simply cocks her head to the side, as if clicking her tongue and mocking your pout.
It makes your pussy flutter with need.
She hasn’t even said anything to you, but you’re already squeezing your legs together, eager for some kind of friction to soothe the ache between your legs, your lips rubbing together with the arousal that grew with each passing second.
You hum softly, your latex clad fingers running down her arm, reaching her tattoo and tracing the pattern gently.
Hm…you don’t recall that one.
She gives you her arm with ease, allowing you to see her tattoo, that makes you smile softly.
“This is pretty…” you hum before you look back up at her, biting your plush bottom lip softly. “Are there anymore for me to find?” You question, giving her a playful smile. This one gets her, because you can hear the way her breath shudders, see the way her chest rises and falls for a moment.
She’s right where you want her.
You hum softly, your hand slowly coming up to the mask, eyeing her closely as you gently begin pushing it up, eager to see her face. You flinch when she grabs your wrist, stopping you from lifting it up any further. You pout again, it’s genuine this time, not like before. A soft huff leaves your lips before you open your mouth to complain, tell the girl that if she doesn’t want to show you her face, you’ll leave to find someone else who will.
But before you can, you’re being tugged into a random bedroom.
Upon entering, you can see why this place is the spot was so popular for parties. The rooms are clean, and the host went as far as to decorate them accordingly, the same red lights from the hallway lighting up the place. If you weren’t so hellbent on getting fucked by the ghost face, you’d most certainly be gushing over what a wonderful party host this was.
Your thoughts are completely cut off by strong arms wrapping around your waist, and pulling you into an even stronger chest. It makes you moan softly, your head falling back against her chest. You feel her strong hands running up and down your latex clad body, squeezing your hips, your boobs, running along your thighs. You can hear her breathing behind you, and you can almost hear the sweet tone of her voice through it.
You let out a small whine, one of your hands coming down to lay over hers, keeping her close to you. “Wanna play with you…” you hum softly, it makes your ghost face groan, her hands squeezing your plush body before she turns you around, and pushes you onto the soft bed.
It makes you giggle softly, your hands running along the soft sheets as you watch her. She looks like a god above you, standing so tall, the ghostly mask almost haunting as she eats you up with her eyes, head cocked to the side as you lazily smile up at her.
You move to prop yourself up onto your hands, palms pressing into the bed, your legs spreading for her. “So…you’re leaving the mask on, huh? Does that make me the helpless victim?” You pout out, holding back a giggle as you recite the lines from the movie the mask came from. It earns a slow nod from your ghost face, and you have to hold back a moan.
“Well…please play with me ghost face…I wanna be yours tonight” you purr out, your body sitting up as you reach forward, your fingers snagging around the belt loop of her jeans and pulling her closer.
You hear a soft sigh from behind the mask, and it almost sounds like she’s suffering, like she’s torturing herself just as much as she’s torturing you by not touching you yet. Her strong hand slowly comes up, cupping your chin gently and angling your head up, her thumb dragging across your bottom lip. You moan softly, kissing her finger gently, it makes her groan again.
She slowly moves down, bending down until her hands are pushed against the bed, caging you in. It makes you crawl backwards, a soft whimper leaving your lips. When she’s this close, backing you up onto the bed, you can catch a glimmer of her eyes beneath the mesh material of the eyes of the ghost. You can see her long lashes, and big green eyes. It makes your pussy throb desperately.
Because fuck, you’ve never seen eyes that pretty before.
You almost done catch her hands reaching down between you, pushing into the tight material of your latex shorts, fingers pressing against your soaked core. You’re so desperate for her, that the small act makes you moan softly, eyes fluttering shut as you grind your hips against her fingers. You can tell she’s skilled just by the way she fingers your clit and rubs you slowly, the right fabric of your shorts making it an even tighter fit.
“Fuck…” you hear softly from behind the mask, and it’s the first time you’ve properly heard her voice, it makes you feel like you can cum right then and there.
You blink softly as you stare into her eyes, watching her as she slowly toys with your pussy, making you whine and moan for her from the small motions of her fingers.
“Mmpph…feels…fuck…your fingers…” you moan softly, feeling yourself growing close just from the way she rubbed your throbbing clit. Your hand goes down to her tattooed arm, grabbing it as she begins to speed up. You whine loudly, your back arching as you grind in tow with her movements, and fuck…you’re so close, you feel like you’re going to explode just from a stranger finger fucking you.
And suddenly, her fingers are gone.
“W-what? Why’d you…why’d you stop” you whimper softly while trying to catch your breath, watching as your ghost face began to tug your shorts off. You whine softly with embarrassment, watching as she silently tugged your shorts off, a string of your arousal connecting you to your shorts. You can’t remember the last time you were this wet.
Your ghost face groans softly, mumbling something under her breath that you don’t quite catch. You open your mouth to say something, but you’re quickly being tugged up into her arms as she lays down on the bed.
Now you’re straddling her lap, your bare core dragging along her jeans as her strong hands massage your thighs. You whine softly, because you can feel the prominent bulge pressing against you through her pants. Her hands go to your hips, forcing you to grind your soaking wet pussy against her crotch, your arousal staining her black jeans, making you burn from the inside out.
You moan loudly, your hands pressing against her lower stomach as you watch the way she slowly grinds you down on her as she pleases. You’re eager, so you’re already undoing her belt and unbuttoning her jeans. You almost expect her to stop you, but she doesn’t, and you’re pulling out her pink strap, the length of it making your mouth water.
If you weren’t so fucking horny, the color would’ve made you giggle, but there’s no time for that. You tug her jeans down a bit more, to which she lifts her hips up to help you, and you begin to crawl up her body slightly until you’re hovering over her length, her hand grabbing the shaft as she runs it along your lips, getting it wet with your arousal before she helps you sink down on it.
The moan you both let out is past pornography, the weight of you pushing down her strap rubs against her clit perfectly, and she’s sure she’s never experienced someone riding her so fucking well. The sound of her pretty voice makes you want to cry, because she’s been teasing you so much that you’ll take just about anything she gives you. You begin to bounce on her length slowly, adjusting to her size, your hands pressed against her chest to act as leverage.
“Oh my…fucking god….mmmhhh…a-ah!” You moan out, eyes fluttering shut as you ride her, back arching as your hands go up into your hair, tugging on it, needing somewhat of an outlet to release the pleasure you were feeling. Your senses were on overload, and you weren’t sure if it was the build up of not knowing who the hell you were fucking, or if it was truly that good, but you’re sure you’ve never had a fuck this good in your entire life.
“Fuck…that’s a good fucking girl…bouncing on my cock so well…yeah…that’s it” the voice makes you moan loudly, your eyes opening immediately. She sounds perfect, her voice low and smooth, strong hands gripping your thighs for a moment before they come down on your ass, spanking you hard and making you moan even louder.
You can practically hear the smirk in her voice when she speaks, her voice dripping with lust as you fuck your self down onto her cock. “Haven’t even seen my face and you’re doing all of this for me…treating me special, pretty girl?” She hums out before moaning loudly with you. You can’t help but nod, slowly feeling yourself becoming dumb on her cock.
“S’good…feels so good…I’ll do anything for you” you moan out almost incoherently, saying just about anything that comes to mind in that moment.
As you continue bouncing on her cock, the motions of it all makes her mask come up a bit, and you catch a glimpse of her plush pink lips tugged beneath her pretty teeth. It makes you whine softly, and you realize you can’t fucking do this anymore.
You reach forward, your hand going to the edge of the mask, and you tug it off of her head.
You feel like you’ll lose your breath, keel over and die at that very moment when you see her, because she’s so fucking pretty. Her brown hair is so messy, soft fringe splayed across her face, prettiest freckles littering her red cheeks, those same green eyes staring into yours, pretty lips tugging into a smirk when she sees the way your eyebrows furrow with pleasure, knowing that it was her face that made you feel that way.
“Just couldn’t wait, could you?” She smirks softly, her words followed by a soft groan, hands traveling up your body and gripping your boobs that were nearly completely spilled out of your top.
“Want you to cum for me, princess…can you do that? Cum all over my cock?” She urges on, her words cut off by various moans as you continue fucking yourself down on her. You want to speak, but you can’t, so all you do is nod eagerly and give her a loud moan, feeling the familiar warmth building up in the pit of your stomach, electricity traveling through your body.
Ellie moans with you, her eyes never leaving yours as she gives you an encouraging nod. “That’s it baby…such a pretty fucking girl…been watching you all night…knew I needed to…fuck…have you…come on baby…cum for me” she commands, and you feel like you’ll turn into jelly just from the way she tells you to do it, so stern, your legs felt like they could no longer hold you up, shaking as your back arched almost painfully, and your orgasm raked through your body.
It was electrifying, the feeling of her cock sliding so deep into you, your walls fluttering around it as you came, her hands gripping your hips tightly as she pushed even deeper into you, her own orgasm visibly washing over her as she pushed her head further into the bed, eyes squeezing shut, curse words flying from her pretty lips.
You both sat there for a moment, Ellie sitting up and pressing her face against your chest as she held you close, hands rubbing against your thighs, soft kisses against your boobs, giving both you and herself a moment to collect yourselves after the intense session you’d just had.
After a few moments passed, you pouted softly as you looked down at the bed and noticed some of the red body paint had smeared onto the bed.
“Fuck…you don’t think the host will be mad about that…do you?” You mumbled softly, trying to avoid the embarrassment you felt at the fact that your fucking costume had ended up screwing you over.
Ellie chuckled softly as she looked down at the bed, humming softly as she pressed another kiss to your chest before she pulled you down to lay down with her, having every intention of keeping you there until enough people left, and you could both go for a shower.
“Nah…I don’t mind” she smirked softly, knowing she’d most definitely be making sure the sheets were changed for you both in the morning.
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The landing | joel miller x f!reader, 13.2k
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Summary: You feel him before you see him. He’s still taking up space in your micro-universe. His sole presence creates ripples through the atmosphere as he walks towards you, softly nudging you to turn your head from your spot to look behind you. Or The one where your orbits finally collide for the final showdown.
Warnings: 18+ MDNI, NO SPOILER (read A/N), ANGST, cheater!joel, discussions of infidelity, mention of food consumption, yelling, crying, the briefest mention of smut thoughts, sprinkle of fluff (blink and you'll miss it), as always let me know if I missed anything 👀
A/N: Ok, *deep breath* I know I can't make everyone happy unless I write alternate endings 😅 and I understand that infidelity can be a very triggering concept. I gave them the ending I felt they both deserved, but if you're looking for a story where they are at each other's throats for 13k words, maybe this is not for you and you are more than welcome to kindly move on. I won't spoil the ending in the Warnings, so proceed with caution, you know what the main theme is all about. All I can tell you is that this part of the story is divided into two main scenes because I didn't want to drag it out with one little scene after another. *she says after spilling 13k words🙄sorry about that👀* As always, I would love to read your thoughts on the last part and please keep in mind that writing is almost always self-indulgent.
P.S. I want to thank each and every one of you for the love I received for this mini-series, I never thought it would engage so many people. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart. You've all been so kind and sweet to me, so this journey filled my heart with joy! I love you all, take care of yourselves and I'll see you -hopefully- in the comments! Oh! My asks are always open if you want to know more about their story. I could even write drabbles or one-shots about anything you'd like to know in particular. Ily, bye 😘
P.S. I deliberately left the last two lines without clarification of who says what, I leave that up to you. 🤍
Dividers by @cafekitsune @saradika-graphics @plum98
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FOUR YEARS AFTER THE FALL
Are you still falling?
You’re not sure anymore. Maybe you’re just used to it. Or maybe you just learned how to fly. It certainly feels like everything has slowed down. Sometimes it feels like floating. As if you’re a feather, so lightweight, swirling around aimlessly. But you can never touch the ground. Gravity can’t quite pull you down. Every time you feel like you’re finally landing, a force of nature pulls you back up.
Maybe it is a soft, warm, summer breeze, a memory of Joel.
Maybe it is a whirlwind, a contact from the lawyers.
Maybe it is a snowstorm, sign the papers, please.
Maybe it is the whispering of a gentle wind, the possibilities of what might have been, or the lack of real closure.
But it’s nice here. Even between the earth and the sky.
You never thought you’d enjoy leaving the big city and making a home for yourself on a ranch. But you loved it. You loved the peace and quiet, you loved this new community of people, you loved taking care of the horses, riding them, being around them. And then there was the house. A place you could almost call home. It was beautiful, rustic, warm, inviting, lacking none of the comforts a modern house needs, because you can’t quite get the big city girl out of you. The entire land had a soft, yellow-golden light enveloping every tree and every rock, everywhere your eyes reached, as if the sun shone differently here.
The days are easy. The chores are more than enough to keep you focused, there’s always something to do around here. It feels good to be busy, to keep your mind from dwelling on the past. You welcome the exhaustion of a full day’s work that accompanies your body when night comes.
Evenings are mostly good. You shower the day off, you cook, you chill on the couch with a good book or a film and more often than not, as the time passes and you feel more comfortable sharing the privacy of your home, you have friends over for dinner and drinks.
Nights though, nights are hard. At night, you pray that you are tired to the point of exhaustion so that you can sleep through it peacefully. Sometimes it works, but most of the time, not so much.
Time has intensified and lessened your emotional burden simultaneously.
The sharp pain that feels like thick acid being poured into you mellows in an inexplicable way. It still hurts, the pain oozing out of your every single pore even in a physical way. Only now, it has transformed into a sweet, slow poison conquering every hollow of your body, every vein leading from your heart to the ends of your limbs.
It’s almost a welcoming feeling, this pain, reminding you that you’re still alive, that he was real, that everything that happened was real. Because sometimes, sometimes, when you let yourself relax, when you let your guard down, all of this feels like a dream. Sometimes, you wake up in the middle of the night, confused, reaching with your hand for the other side of the bed and finding it empty. And for a split second you get that feeling. The feeling of how it used to be with him next to you.
Then you remember.
You know why this is happening and who’s responsible for it. This is a mix-up. This is what your treacherous brain does to mess with your resolve. It blends the bad stuff into the good, creating the strangest of concoctions. The clear image of black and white, neatly and perfectly hung in the center of the walls of your mind is now splashed with colorful memories from your life together, like a Pollock painting. You do your best to resist, to bring back scenes from all the vivid recollections of the night your life changed forever but your uncooperative brain pops another memory up, a good fuckin’ memory, like a projector, illuminating those bare imaginary walls with laughter and touches and whispers and scents and warmth. It’s relentless.
This dichotomy creates an uneasiness inside you, you choose to reject and pretend not to notice. Which in turn leads to self-contempt because, as always you can’t lie to yourself. You may lie to others but deep in your core you have to be honest with yourself. That is something you’re owed. To be aware, present in the reality of your life. So, you know, you know, you just sweep things under the carpet as a copy mechanism. You know what you should do.
You should confront him. You should demand answers and then finally say what you need to say to him. Not for him, not for his sake, but for yours. But you can’t. You've lost count of how many times you've picked up the phone and your thumb hovered over his contact to call him but you just can’t bring yourself to do it. And every time you tried to text him, to start a conversation, it felt too awkward. The only acceptable subject of discussion initiated by you was the progress of the divorce papers. You were unable to even remotely insinuate a more meaningful encounter. And he didn’t make any advances either. Not that you gave him any room to try and talk to you, but still, he seemed more settled with that, rather than not.
Maybe that fact itself was your cue to let it all go. He’s probably moved on. You don’t cheat on someone so blatantly and then want them back. Obviously, this whole delaying of the divorce is a power play, like everything else, it seems.
Good, yeah, that’s it. That’s it.
Now, let go. Move on. You solved it. Let go.
But this annoying little voice is scratching the walls of your weary brain, nudging the limits of the carefully made up serenity that’s hanging by a thread.
You should confront him. For your peace of mind, for your equilibrium.
But it’s nice here. Even between the earth and the sky.
Joel, will you please sign the papers?
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It’s early in the evening and you’re in the garden in front of the house near the porch, on your knees, plucking a few weeds from the ground. The fatigue of the day’s work has begun to take its toll on you, your shoulder is slightly trembling as you rest your weight on one palm to dig around with the other. Sweat covers your torso, rolling down between the valley of your breasts and the hollow between your spine, leaving your t-shirt clinging to your skin, your hair sticking to your forehead, which is lightly covered in a thin layer of dirt at some places as you keep wiping your forearm over the little beads of salty water that concentrate over your brows.
You feel him before you see him. He’s still taking up space in your micro-universe. His sole presence creates ripples through the atmosphere as he walks towards you, softly nudging you to turn your head from your spot to look behind you.
There's an overload of sensations before you shift your body around to confirm what you already know in your bones. You can smell him, taste him, feel him on your suddenly tingling skin, all at the same time.
You turn slowly and your breath hitches on your throat. You just stay in place, frozen, time infinitely stretching as you take him in from where you kneel on the ground. He stops abruptly the second his eyes meet yours and you could swear he’s holding his breath, his face completely unreadable.
He looks.. he looks like your Joel and nothing like him simultaneously. Soft yet imposing. Handsome yet battered. Determined yet lost. His clothing is simpler, dark jeans, green flannel over a black t-shirt and laced boots, as if he just returned from a working site. His curls are longer, framing his handsome face in a ridiculously good way, more white hairs nestle in his beard that is not that trimmed. Neither of you speak quite yet, taking each other in.
Your mind, your bizarre, ridiculous mind is working on figuring out what day it is. Why does it matter? Did you have an appointment? This is unexpected and a long time coming all at once, regardless of the day of the week. What comes next? Do you draw up an astrological map to determine if it's a compatible date for you to meet? Get it together.
Your facial expression must be pretty funny because Joel smiles awkwardly while scratching one side of his bearded cheek; hey, it’s me.
No, shit, you mentally respond, as if you could ever forget him. Furious is the word that best describes you because these are his first words? Hey, it’s me? And that feeling escalates into an explosive retort because you now realize that you had expectations. His first words? Who cares what his first words are? Were you expecting a tearful reunion, masterfully staged and executed like a romantic film? The guy betrayed you in your own house, sorry, his house. Wake the fuck up.
“Did you sign the papers?” you spit as you rise from your spot and he reacts as if you have punched him in the stomach. His face falls; you see a series of micro-expressions pass over his features before he settles on the last one. Has he been hurt? Did you hurt his feelings? Did he also have expectations?
“Uh-”, Joel raises his brows in genuine surprise, things probably not going the way he expected or hoped.
“It’s nice to see you, too.”, he replies with mild mockery.
Your eyes snap shut and you laugh in anger, lowering your chin to your chest and then looking back up at him, your eyes blazing, your brows mimicking his previously surprised expression, “Are you serious right now?” you cross your hands defensively over your chest.
You stare at each other for a good minute, both of you taking a moment to compose yourselves and regain your balance.
You break first, dropping your head back to your chest, looking down at the heel of your shoe scraping the ground beneath you, exhaling audibly.
“Hey,” Joel tries again, after speaking your name tenderly, your name on his lips, his head dipping down and to the side to try and get your attention back to him, his gaze filled with a mixture of warmth, regret and fear, “hi.”
You shake your head from side to side in repentance, what a great start this is, you keep thinking, “Hi.” is all you give him, still not looking at him.
“Hi,” he repeats, “it’s really nice to see you, bab-, shit, sorry.”, he winces, covering his mouth with his palm, embarrassment creeping into his features. You let out a quiet laugh, exhaling through your nose. You don’t comment on the slip of endearment that leaves his mouth, you don’t correct him, accepting privately that you liked it, you missed it, you longed for it.
Joel studies your face, but makes no comment on your silence. “You look...” he pauses for a split second before deciding to continue, “you look really good.” He hesitates, he doesn't want his compliment to come across as a feeble attempt to patronize you, because he really means it. You do look good, all sweaty and muddy and human and real. You are real. If he took a few steps forward, he could actually reach out and touch you, feel your skin under his fingertips, smell your heady scent, perhaps discreetly lick the remnants of your sweat from his thumb after carefully removing the strands of hair sticking on your forehead. But he doesn’t do that. He doesn’t do any of that.
You don’t quite know how to respond to that, any answer crossing your mind seems stupid or cheesy or dismissive. How do you respond to a compliment from the man who made you worship in his altar, only to have your faith ripped out of your heart?
His eyes keep roaming over your face, your figure, memorizing everything he can, like a blind man who has finally found his light, while he fidgets with an envelope in his hand which reminds you-
“Did you sign the papers, Joel?”, is what escapes your lips before you can think twice.
“No.” and now it’s his turn to lower his head, his eyes avoiding your gaze, as he looks down at his feet.
“Joel!”, you exclaim infuriated, rolling your eyes at him, knitting your brows together in a sign of frustration.
“No, no, it’s not like that. I’ll do it. I’ll do whatever you want.”, Joel raises a hand in your direction to stop you from what seems to be a fair assumption, his palm up, facing you in an unspoken surrender. “I thought that- me, not signing, was a way of showing you how deeply sorry I am, how much I wanted to fix our marriage, but I understand now,” his voice wavers slightly, “that I need to respect your wishes. It’s the right thing to do. If this is still what you want, I’m gonna sign it.”
You don’t reply to that last part, only pointing out that “You didn’t have to come all this way to tell me that.”
“No, I didn’t.” Joel agrees.
“Then why are you here?” you insist, reluctant to entertain the idea that he has actually come all this way to apologize.
“Because I owe you an explanation.” is his honest and direct answer, sending little jolts of electricity through your nerves.
“Joel..” you sigh in exasperation. Not in warning or frustration, not really, but in something else. A feeling you can’t really put a name to, the closest you can come to describing it is that of a burden, woven deep into your heart, blossoming rapidly with each beat. There are so many things left unsaid; it makes you feel helpless, like you’re drowning. You want the dam you’ve built around your soul over the years to break so everything you've been holding back can finally pour out of you, but there’s just so much of it, of everything, that you’re terrified. Will the overflowing tank of emotions be completely empty? Will there be anything left unsaid? Untouched? What if the remnants left behind keep licking around your wounds, their waves pushing, shaping what’s left of you into something new, unrecognizable?
And what if, the tank will indeed be completely empty? What you’ll be left with, then? Nothing? Just.. empty? Will you remain empty? What, if anything, will take its place? Will you recognize your new self? Will you like yourself? Will you be able to live in harmony with this shell of a person? This you; you know. You hated and pitied and caressed and comforted and forgave and nurtured you into some version of a new you. But this? Everything will be torn apart, the wounds will be freshly opened, accessible to be examined in detail, plucked and bled and bruised in an all-too-familiar way.
Joel’s voice snaps you out of your trance, “No, I do. I owe you more than that, actually, but that’s the least I can do. And I wanna do that while I’m still your husband. I want to explain myself as your husband. Apologize to my wife, as her husband. Then I’m gonna sign anything you want me to.”
“And if I don’t wanna hear what you have to say?”
“Then I’ll just sign the papers and leave you in peace.” Joel confesses in all his honesty.
You just nod, looking down on the ground. You take a deep breath to ground yourself. You can do this. You want to do this. You need to do this.
You walk towards the house and sit down on the steps of the porch, as he looks at you awkwardly, not knowing where to stand. You gesture with a tilt of your head for him to come sit next to you. You can do this. You realize that you didn’t invite him into the house and you feel a bit rude for that, but it's beyond your empathetic capacity to deal with him being here and to let him into the house as well. “I just like it out here, it’s calm and-”
“You don’t have to explain yourself to me, whatever makes you feel comfortable; I know you don’t want me here any longer than I have to be..” he interrupts you as he sits down next to you, his one side pressing against the end of the stairs, where the railing begins. He places the contract between your bodies, on the wooden floor.
It makes you uncomfortable, his statement, you always want people to feel welcome and relaxed around you. You internally chastise yourself for worrying about his feelings instead of yours, but you can’t help it, it’s embedded in your DNA. “It’s OK, Joel, I don’t mind, we can talk.”
Joel nods, but he remains silent. You don’t break the silence, giving him time to collect his thoughts. He chuckles defeated, shaking his head while rubbing his hand over his face.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, you don’t look that mighty to me anymore.” you blurt out before you can stop yourself and you immediately regret it. It didn’t sound so insulting in your head. You only meant to say that he doesn’t intimidate you anymore. Which is sort of a lie and a truth at the same time. You used to find him imposing, even his mere presence had the ability to make your skin crawl, your heart flutter and your words get catch in your dry throat, you were in awe of him. Every time you laid your eyes at him, even when you were straddling his lap or gazing at his profile as he slept beside you, you always felt as if you were looking up. You admired him.
His heart loses several beats to that. He can read between your lines now. He has lost your respect. Your admiration. The time when you looked up to him in awe is long gone.
“You know, my therapist warned me about this.”, he chuckles bitterly.
“Your-” you can’t hide your shocked expression from him as you search his eyes for any sign of him joking around, but you find none. “You’ve been in therapy?”
“Yeah, I-, I spent two years hating myself,” he chuckles deprecatingly, “and then I realized it was time for me to stop being an arrogant prick, so I spent another two doing it all over again with the help of my therapist.”
You laugh wholeheartedly at that and it’s the most beautiful sight he’s ever seen in his entire life. “OK, somebody’s off to a good start. Go on.”
“You mean about the therapy?”
“I mean about you admitting you are an arrogant prick”, you say playfully.
He really laughs now, his eyes crinkle up at the sides. You used to love that. You feel your heart warming up. “You can thank Maria for that.”
“For what?”
“For kicking my ass and pushing me to help myself.” Joel admits. “She’s a good friend.”
“Yeah, she is.” you agree through your laughter, the image of Maria actually kicking Joel’s ass is priceless.
“I missed that sound.” Joel is looking at you softly, as if his gaze could break you.
“Hm.” you simply smile at him, not finding it in you to respond with a snide remark. The time for that feels like it has passed, like it’s irrelevant at this point. All you really want is to have an honest conversation, irony be damned.
You both look at your feet in silent consideration for a minute or two. “I thought you’d be mad at me.” Joel reveals.
You exhale through your nose, the edges of your mouth turning up in a gentle smile. “Four years is a long time to be mad at anyone, Joel. Even you don’t have that kind of power over me.”
“Good. I have enough burden on my shoulders as it is..”, he mumbles and you decide to change the subject.
How do you admit that you are still mad at him but in a different way? How do you describe the deep scar his existence has carved into your soul making it almost unbearable to even exist without him? How do you explain that you’ll always carry him with you, no matter what? How do you instill in him that you still believe in the best version of him, the best version you know he can be, the best version of him you once lived with. Yes, you’re not mad at him for the reasons he thinks you are. You’re mad at him because the way he made you love him is stronger than any hurt he’s ever caused you.
“So, what did your therapist warn you about?”
“She, uh- she tried to prepare me for this.”
“Oh? What did she say?”
“That I should not be prepared.”, he laughs in earnest. “That I should not obsess about what I want to say and just be open and have an honest interaction.”
“I like her, already.” you say with a straight face.
He smiles softly, looking down at his boots, while he rests his elbows on his knees, one palm encircling the other. “Yeah… I had some digging to do; I still do for that matter and will be for a long time it seems.”
“Anything you wanna share?” you reply, raising an eyebrow as if you had no idea why he was here.
“Oh, boy-” he squirms in his seat, already overwhelmed by the turn of the conversation, his chest almost vibrating with anxiety, he can barely swallow, small beads of sweat starting to form around his temples. You reluctantly reach for his forearm, trying to calm him down. “Hey, Joel?”
His whole body stiffens at your touch and he wishes his clothes would evaporate so he could feel your skin against his. He fixes his eyes on your delicate fingers lightly squeezing his tight muscles underneath the fabric. “The worst part has already happened four years ago, so-” you shrug, “just breathe.” Joel keeps his eyes on your hand, his heart rate dropping slightly; you ground him. You retract your arm and keep your hands to yourself in an effort to maintain a respectable distance between you. You shouldn’t have touched him at all.
“I think- I think I understand now.” he begins, still feeling the ghost of your touch on his forearm. “How I made you feel, what your words meant. You always did that, you know. And I found it so fascinating and so exhausting at the same time.”
You look at him, confused. Joel continues, “You always chose your words carefully. You had a reason for every single thing you said. In retrospect, I realized that you were handing me everything on a silver platter, but I was too self-absorbed to see it at the time.”
You nod in agreement, gesturing with your head for him to keep going.
Joel takes a deep breath, holding it inside his lungs for a while. His exhalation is controlled, measured. “Fuck. Okay. It was not just the fact itself. It was not just the cheatin’.”
Your stomach clenches violently at his words. The time has finally come and although you know what happened, you where there, when the words come out of Joel’s mouth it's as if you're pulled back to that threshold all over again. It really happened. You feel your hands sweating. “Go on.”, you pronounce carefully, already anxious your voice is going to betray you. You can do this.
“I don’t want to sound all full of myself-” Joel hesitates.
“You won’t.” you interrupt him with conviction. The truth has never frightened you. You welcome it. It feels like a form of catharsis, it feels like you’re finally being seen. Every nerve in your body is on fire. You’re ready for this, for the truth, if only he gives it to you. Please, set me free.
“I was your everything.” he whispers, almost embarrassed, his eyes not meeting yours. You don’t respond to that, not until he looks at you, although the admission shoots straight through your heart. You stare at the side of his face, almost forcing him to turn to you. He does.
“You were.” Simple. True. Clear as the light of day.
“And I ripped that from you.”
“You did.”
“In the worst possible way.”
“Hmhm.”, you don’t trust the stability of your voice.
“And no matter what I say, I can never take back what I did. I humiliated you, our home, our relationship, everything. I-” his brows furrow in an expression of disgust, “I disrespected myself. I burned everything down. I left nothing for you to hold on to, nothing for me to hope for, nothing.”
His chin trembles and his voice wavers as he continues. “The words to describe how sorry I am have not yet been invented. And even if they had, they still couldn’t take the pain away; what’s done, is done.”
He closes his eyes and rests his head on the railing. “I don’t know what I wish for anymore. That you had never met me, so you could be spared all this pain? But I can’t. I can’t wish that, because I’m so grateful to have met you. I married you, I had you. That is what has comforted me all these years, what has got me through all those sleepless nights.” He looks absolutely devastated, desperate.
It feels genuine, because he’s not directing it at you, he’s not trying to convince you, he’s not trying at all. “I have not thought about my pain or what I want from all this for a long time. All I pray for is-” his glistening eyes are searching frantically on the ground, his brows knitted together in a painful grimace. You rest your head on the palm of your hand, your elbow on your knee. Watching this moment like an outside observer, you realize that he's trying to live up to your standards, reminding you of a child trying to impress his parents, only to fail regardless of the outcome.
“Look, Joel, couples break up, divorce, all over the world, all the time. And I guess, they all thought their partners were their everything until they finally weren’t.”, you rationalize, putting everything that has happened into some kind of perspective. It is not the end of the world. It is the end of your world. He doesn’t have to carry this burden on his shoulders for eternity. All you need from him is to understand, to acknowledge what he's done to you, how broken you’ve been.
But if he acknowledges that, if he truly comprehends the tremendous pain he’s put you through, won’t all that anguish be transferred to him? Isn't it unbearable for a truly repentant man to know that he has deliberately caused so much pain?
“But, you see; I wanted that, I needed to be your everything.”
“It certainly fed your ego..” you grin at him.
“No, no- I craved that- that look on your face when your eyes were on me, like there was nothing else, no one else around you, but me. You drove me to be better, to move forward; I felt I had a purpose. You were my purpose.”
“Well I didn’t do much of a job then, did I?” you smile defeated.
“No, honey, this-” he’s determined to make you understand that it wasn't your fault, even if it is the last thing he is going to do. He licks his lips trying to formulate his thoughts, “-what happened, had nothing to do with you, I- I was just- I got in my head..”
You shake your head dismissively, “It’s a terrible burden to put people on a pedestal and expect them to-”
“But you see, baby, that’s the thing. You didn’t.”Joel dismisses your comment and if a bucket of ice-cold water was thrown over your head you wouldn’t feel so frozen. You search his eyes for meaning, because deep down it stings to hear that you could give more. Is that what he’s saying? You didn’t love him enough? Joel catches on and rushes to explain. “You-” god this is so hard, he’s struggling, can’t he just rip his heart open and let you examine it? “You loved me so much, baby and you never asked for anything in return. You let me be who I was. You accepted me completely. You set me free.” His eyes are blown wide, burning into yours with intensity. You look so lost, how does all this fit in with what he did then?
“Darlin’,” he expands further, “we live in a competitive world. Everyone aims to control each other, from business partners to lovers and spouses; everyone manipulates, everyone tries to tell you where to look, what to do, how to act, how to fuck, how to love. Except for you. You let me be. You put your heart in my hands and you set me free. And I took advantage of that and I am truly sorry. I’m more sorry than you’ll ever know. That’s how fucked up I am.” you look at him dumbfounded.
“I can’t connect the dots; I don’t get it, Joel, I’m sorry, I-” you run your fingers through your hair, scratching your scalp in frustration. What does he mean?
Joel winces mid-sentence because he can’t escape what’s coming. This is his last resort. And he knows it is going to sound cruel and he doesn’t even mean the first part the way you're going to perceive it, but for lack of better words, for lack of the better person he could have been, a person who should have never put you in this position in the first place, here goes.
“She made me feel wanted; you made me feel free.”,
he spits out in a hurry, praying to whatever god is listening, that you won’t even catch it, knowing full well that these may be the last words you'll ever let him speak to you.
You are utterly, completely, perfectly shocked.
Then you feel it for the first time in what feels like ages. That old friend consuming you. Rage. It burns your lungs, twists your guts and pierces your heart like a thousand needles. Everything becomes crystal clear. You’re so infuriated, that your mind goes blank. A million words and nothing at all come to your mind simultaneously.
“Let me- let me rephrase that, because actually it was never even about her, I just-” Joel begins, in a vain attempt to stop the tide from crushing you both.
Your palms become clenched fists in front of your mouth, pressing against it, crushing the velvety skin of the inside of your lips against your teeth until you draw blood, in an effort to control yourself. You inhale sharply, keeping your eyes fixed on the land in front of you, blurred by the tears gathering in your waterline.
“She- what?” are the only words you manage to choke out.
“Baby, it doesn’t matter, it was never about her, she was a means to an end and-” your eyes bulge out of your sockets at the statement, “I know- I know how that sounds- just-” his palms come together in a prayerful gesture, begging you to give him a chance to explain.
“A means to an- what the fuck are you talking about, Joel?” the veins on your forehead swell under your skin, creating a map of the river of wrath flowing aggressively through your body.
“It was never an affair sweetheart, but a transaction; one I initiated. She was only a boost to my ego.”
..she made me feel wanted..
..a boost to my ego..
It's all starting to make sense now, and it's the last thing you expect to be confronted with. You've always imagined either a heated affair, a secret love story, him realizing he had found his soul mate in someone else, or him getting bored with you, finding you too much or too emotional or too unlovable. It turns out that you were accused of the one thing you never were.
“Are you-, oh god,” you can hear your heart pounding in your ears now and it takes every ounce of strength not to vomit, “are you saying that you fucked someone else; you fucked your secretary for fuck’s sake, you fuckin’ cliché of a man, because I wasn’t jealous of you?”. Your throat is so swollen, you try to scream your words at him but they only come out in wrenched whispers.
You stand up abruptly, dizziness causing you to close your eyes tightly as you see a million white dots behind the blackness of your eyelids. Your whole body vibrates with rage. You steady yourself on the railing and then begin to pace back and forth, your hands unable to stay motionless, but moving over your face, through your hair, lowering and squeezing the sides of your waist as you lean slightly forward in a subconscious way to soothe yourself.
“Oh my god, oh my fucking god,” you laugh hysterically now, as angry tears run down your cheeks, as if you've been let in on an inside joke. “It’s my fault, everything is my fault-”
Joel is frozen in place, he’s not sure if he should get up and try to reason with you or stay where he is.. or run for the hills. He’s witnessing the unleashing of a caged animal. His tongue feels heavy and numb in the cavern of his mouth but he dares to speak again, “That’s the exact opposite of what I said, sweetheart,” he tries to explain in vain, “I’m sorry if that’s what I-” but you’re not listening to a single word he utters.
“People kept telling me, urging me on, all my life;” and you slap your palms on the sides of your thighs, looking at his direction, but not really looking, “I should be more controlling, more pushy, more..” your voice begins to fade, muttering to yourself through your teeth. “They warned me, you know, that the lack of pressure in any kind of relationship would be perceived as a lack of interest.”
Don't trust completely; hold something back; men like the illusion of power; show them you need them; make them jealous; be jealous, like a manual to a pre-installed setting.
Do you agree to the Terms & Conditions?
Press ‘Enter.’
“But I didn’t listen. I never listened. Because in what world do we choose a leash over freedom?” You turn to look at him now, addressing him as if you were talking to a third party, an outsider, asking for advise or affirmation.
Maria’s words come back to Joel’s mind, words that he had long forgotten about, finally fitting like missing pieces of a puzzle to the bigger picture.
“Maybe the wrong Miller is on a leash..”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Means that freedom is for those who can bear it.”
“I was really stupid, was I not? What on earth made me think that this time would be any different, what made me think that you’d be any different? You’re just- you’re just another man-” you spit your vile angrily as your eyes sweep over him. The look in his eyes is devastated, he feels shuttered, reduced to nothing.
“Stupid, stupid, stupid little girl. When the fuck will I learn? When the fuck am I going to accept that I don't really belong? When?”
Joel is staring at you bewildered, he never felt more helpless in his life. A thousand new thoughts and questions form in your head, things you didn’t even begin to imagine would cross your mind.
“Did you use her?” you ask with renewed vigor, a surge of energy running through your body.
Joel’s cheeks burn with humiliation but he has already admitted it once, what will it do to him to say it one more time? “Yes, I never had any feelings f-”
“No,” you interrupt impatiently, you don't care about his feelings right fuckin' now, “that night, did you use her? On purpose?”
Joel looks lost for a second but the cogs in his head finally turn and “NO! No baby, I wasn’t even aware of you coming home earlier than expected, no. Don’t even entertain this idea; it wasn’t intentional, I swear to god.”
Oh. There’s a new question for Joel. Why did you leave your business trip early? He had never thought about it before, solely focused on everything else that had happened, which now made him wonder, “Did you- did you know?”
“What?” you frown, lost in your own thoughts, not following his line of logic.
“Did you know? Is that why you came back early from your trip?”
You’re still a bit too far gone in your head to think clearly and try to prevent the next question from coming, “Of course I didn’t know, Joel, did it look like I did?” is all you say with a bite, annoyed.
“Then why-” Joel insists, pressuring you for an answer, but he doesn’t get to finish his sentence.
“I- fuck- I need a minute.” you declare and start to walk towards the house.
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Joel waited on that porch for almost an hour, watching the sun set behind the mountain, afraid to move, barely breathing in case you stormed out and threw him back where he came from as if him standing still would somehow make him part of the landscape; as if he belonged.
And you certainly delivered.
He hears the screen door open, his back still to the house. You are standing behind him, your arms crossed stiffly over your chest, your face tilted down, to avoid his gaze. He could see the red-rimmed and swollen eyes of yours, despite your efforts to hide them.
“I can’t do this-”
“Please,” his whole face contorts in agony, “please, hear me-” you both speak at the same time.
“-tonight.”
“What?” his voice matching the look of confusion on his face.
“Maybe another time, but not tonight.”
“I-” he doesn’t know how to articulate his thoughts without sounding like an idiot. He drove all this way, four hours straight, to finally get things straight. His brain has short-circuited, unable to put a plan into action. Should he check into a hotel or a motel or whatever the fuck is around here in the middle of nowhere? Should he go back to his place? Do you really want to talk again? You sort of said you did. You said maybe. Fuck. What does he do?
But honestly, what did he expect? That this would be over in the course of one evening? Of course he would have to come back. His eyes are fixed on yours like a deer caught in the headlights. “I came all this way-” he mumbles, choking on the last part, already regretting the words that came out of his mouth.
“Well, too bad.” you spit emotionless as you turn and head for the safety of your house, leaving him stunned on the goddamn porch.
Joel returned the next evening, but you weren't there. He made the four hour journey and came back empty-handed. And you weren't there the next evening, or the evening after that. But he kept on driving the miles, hot wheels under the Texas sun. He didn’t check in anywhere near your small town. He went back home and then back to you again.
The last time he found nothing but a closed door, he finally got the message, so the next time he left the house, before he turned on the ignition, he texted you, as a sign of respect for your boundaries.
Is it all right if I come and see you?
Backspacebackspacebackspace
Is it OK if I come and talk?
And the answer was
Not today.
So, every day he texted you. He didn’t mean to be intrusive, he just wanted to remind you that you were never far from his thoughts, that he was always ready and eager to finish what he started.
You denied him for quite some time. You couldn’t bring yourself to face him again. The confessions he made have knocked you off your axis. Just when you finally felt like everything was falling into place, he dropped this bombshell, making you rethink everything you thought you knew and had sorted out in your mind. You just couldn’t wrap your head around what you’d heard coming out of his mouth. How could he think like that? Why couldn’t he just talk to you? You used to talk about everything; what the fuck happened? How did you not see that coming?
You were sure that he would give up, that he would stop bothering to contact you at all. Was it the monster of self-deprecation? Was it a deep disappointment in human beings and their general lack of persistence in trying to nurture and repair a relationship, or at least trying to give it a proper closure? You didn’t give it much thought afraid of the answer you might get. But you kept saying Not today, until one day, for some reason-
Can we talk?
Yes.
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Joel’s heart is beating through his chest so rapidly, he has to cough to regain some of his composure. He almost drops his phone, trying to confirm the most convenient time for you before you change your mind.
That was the first Yes after the day you saw him again. You weren’t sure what you wanted to talk about; if you could pick up exactly where you left off. You weren’t even sure you could look him in the eye again, but you had to see this through.
When you hear the sound of his engine and tires on the dirt road, you take a deep breath and walk out of the house to wait for him on the porch.
“Come on in, I’m cooking dinner.” you announce as you open the screen door for him to enter the house.
“Are you sure?”, Joel is taken aback, he thought the inside of your house was strictly off-limits to him. You were also cooking dinner as if he was an old friend visiting you. He couldn’t help but wonder if he should lower his defenses or not but with the way you looked tonight you didn’t give him much of a choice.
You’re wearing a pair of warm cream jeans, paired with a white front tie shirt, the first few buttons left open, giving him a glimpse of your tanned sternum. It almost looks like a man’s shirt, just messily tied up over your soft skin, revealing bits of your stomach. Could it be another man’s shirt?
You are barefoot. The nails of your toes are painted in a fresh glossy black color. Your hair is casually tied up in a messy bun, loose strands falling around your beaming face. Joel has to restrain himself from pushing you against the wall and fucking you on the spot, by clenching and unclenching his fists. His mouth is salivating at the sight of you, excitement building in his groin. It's been so long since he's felt this way, a different kind of hunger is growing in him at a rapid pace, as if something buried deep inside his masculinity has just awakened from hibernation.
“Yeah, I’m sure,” you quirk back at him, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world, what you’re both doing. “I’m starving. Coming?” you leave him at the entrance and go back into the house.
“You have a beautiful home.”, Joel admits as he takes in his surroundings, thinking that this is going better than he expected. He also can't help but prepare himself for the fact that this might not end the same way.
“Thank you.” you laugh nervously.
“What?”, he catches the note of disbelief in your voice. “I'm serious, the light is just right, it’s open and warm; it actually reminds me of you.” he says matter-of-factly.
“No, no, I know you mean it, it’s just- I guess it’s high praise, coming from you.” you admit. You always admired what he did for a living and how good he was at it and him seeing your place for the first time gave you another reason to feel kind of nervous.
“Oh, come on, none of that now.” he dismisses the compliment, his voice wavering slightly at the praise.
“Well it’s true, you are excellent at what you do, I mean, the house you built is a work of art and that’s a fact.”
“Which one?”, although he knows exactly which one, he presses on.
“The one we used to live in, together.” You can’t call it your house. You cannot. The mere thought of it makes your tongue feel like it’s on fire.
“Oh.”, Joel smiles as he presses his lips together in a thin line, “You mean our house. It was built out of love, that's why. It's the one I'm most proud of.”
“Hm.”, is all you give him. Déjà vu brings back memories out of the closet -pun intended- for both of you.
“Ok, now you really have to tell me. What is it?”, Joel crosses his forearms over his chest. He has to know.
“What do you mean?”, you try to buy some more time, cause you’re not so sure you want to go in there.
“You had the exact same reaction when I mentioned that, four years ago.”
“Ah, that.”
“Yeah, that.”
“It’s just- it always felt like it reflected your personality rather than mine. Or at least ours.”
Joel looks at you perplexed.
“I’m not complaining, I mean, how many people can claim that their husband built them a house the size of a small hotel as a wedding present?” you chuckle while you continue as nonchalantly as you can muster, “I would have lived in a cave with you, Joel, you didn’t have to go to these lengths to house two people. If you want my honest opinion, this was an ego project. I let it slide because it made you happy. And I liked you happy.” Joel looks stunned, his eyes darting back and forth between yours.
“Baby, I- I wanted to make you happy, to give you the best I could-”
“Joel, I’m not judging you. I am not. But you didn’t show me a single blueprint while you were designing the damn thing. You didn’t ask me what I wanted or how I imagined it. Sure, you equipped it with all the best stuff money could buy, but you never asked me what I thought about it. Not really.”, you see the hurt in his eyes and it unsettles you, but now the rabbit is out of the hat. “Again, I’m not judging you and I’m not being ungrateful, all I’m saying is that for some reason you needed your shinny new wife to live in a shinny new castle. It was a prestige thing. Just think about it.”
“Jesus..” Joel mutters, pinching the sides of his forehead with one hand, feeling defeated.
“Hey,” you give him a wry look, “I tried to avoid answering that question for four years. You were the one who insisted.” you defend yourself, clearly amused by his reaction.
“What else do I need to know?”, Joel wonders in a desperate manner.
“Well.. for how long can you keep coming back?” you joke absentmindedly.
“For the rest of my life..” Joel answers a little too quickly, not a hint of playfulness in his voice.
Your heart tightens at his eagerness, forcing you to admit a consideration that you have had more than a few times before. “You know,” you look over at him, lost in thought, almost like reminiscing, “sometimes I wish I had met you before your company took off.” You snap out of your daydream and consciously look at him and he looks pained as if some kind of realization has hit him. You change the subject for the sake of both of you. “Anyway, speaking of which, how is work? I heard you closed that deal, after all.” you grin mischievously.
“Yeah, I did.”, his voice takes on a strange timbre, almost like regret. But you’re not so sure about anything these days, so you let it pass. He puts the envelope with the contract on the counter in the kitchen and sits down in the chair next to the table already set for dinner.
“Good, that’s good. Let me guess, you’re all over it? First in, last out? Is it almost done?” you word vomit to cover your nervousness.
“Uh,” Joel rubs the back of his neck, “I wouldn’t know.” is all he gives you, clearly trying to avoid getting involved in the discussion.
“Um, you don’t know?”, you laugh lightly in confusion. “How is that possible?”, you ask stirring the vegetables in the pan.
“I’m not involved in the project and I have no idea about the status of the construction;” Joel answers your question and continues, revealing, “I quit. Sold my shares and got out.”
“Yeah,” you draw the vowels, still not looking in his direction, “right. Big, mighty Joel Miller left his enterprise-” you laugh mockingly, but you are met with silence. “You’re joking, right?” You turn to look at him, not believing what you have just heard. You feel your blood freeze in your veins.
Joel shakes his head in denial, “I’ve actually left the city and the only reason I haven’t sold every asset in my name is in case you want to claim any of them. They’re all yours if you want ‘em.” Your mouth is slightly agape, as you try to process what has just been delivered to you.
You open your mouth to protest but he beats you to it, by raising his hand to stop you. “I know you don’t want anything from me, but that doesn’t change the fact that I don’t want them either. Not without you. Just take them. Burn them for all I care, liquidate them and use the money as you see fit.”, Joel insists, trying to find ways to convince you.
“You can do that yourself, Joel.” is all you say; you don’t give a damn about his money. Joel nods and leaves it at that, he knows better than to talk about money right now.
You’re curious where he lives now, but you’re not sure it’s appropriate to ask, so you don’t. You prepare dinner and make small talk about simple things like your lives over the past four years. Joel asks you about the ranch, the horses, the chores; you ask him about Tommy and Maria, their newborn son, whom you haven't had a chance to meet yet. None of you dare to break the bubble of normality in which you have effortlessly found yourselves.
It feels like coming home after a long day, the way you both fall into a comfortable silence. Joel speaks your name softly, drawing your attention and your gaze back to him. “What are we doing here?”
“We’re eating?” Just a little longer, let me have it just a little longer.
“Yeah,” he chuckles, “no, I mean, what are we doing?” he gestures with his fingers between him and you.
You look at him and then at your plate, playing around with your food, lost in thought. How do you acknowledge that? How do you confess that you’re trying to stretch time? How do you admit that you’re scared out of your mind of how it's all going to end? How do you even come to terms with the fact that you’re not sure you want any of this to end? How do you accept how natural it feels to have him back in your life? How do you admit that after four years the pain has never stopped, but the force, the roughness of it has changed into something softer, yet persistent; never quite going away, lingering.
How do you admit that all the good memories are emerging, because that’s what the mind does, that’s how it protects you, that’s how it helps you survive another day, that’s how it tricks you into falling back into a comfortable routine with him. Even if what binds you together now is his betrayal. How do you admit that you’re afraid of what will become of you once you've finished confessing your truths?
Will he cease to exist for you? Will you cease to exist for him? Will he ever bother to contact you again? Do you really want him to? Will you matter to him or will he move on, start again and shake off the last vestiges of your life together?
Or maybe- maybe he has moved on with his life and that's why he's doing all this, putting all this effort into it. Maybe he is preparing a new, clear path for himself and whoever is in his life right now. Is it her? Is it still, her?
You’re spiraling, lost in your thoughts, biting your lower lip anxiously, like a snake eating its own tail. “Baby?” his baritone voice snaps you out of it, he must have called you several times before you heard him, suddenly aware of hot, fat tears streaming down your face, his thumbs gently brushing them from your cheeks.
You let out a shuddering breath; it’s the first time he’s touched you, in so, so long. And here he is again. The familiar, old friend. He’s pounding on your door now, relentless as he is, screaming for you to let him in, lead the way, take charge, take care of you. You can almost feel his maniacal banging, vibrating through your chest, let me in, let me in, let me in.
Let me in, better angry than scared.
Better angry than scared.
Your shoulders slump, your head feels unbearably heavy. The world has stopped moving. The world is moving too fast. You savor his features as he leans further in, his intoxicating scent filling your nostrils, his eyes pleading, the brown of his irises inviting you to let him in. Joel’s face is that of a man still in love as he continues to caress your skin and you let him.
You let him, because you are a weak person.
You let him because you have been deprived of his touch, of any touch really, for far too long.
You let him because you want to have something for yourself, selfishly.
You let him, because for once you just want to take. Take, take, take.
You let him because you just want to be held and touched and loved.
And even though your mind knows that you shouldn’t want all that from him, your heart allows you that little moment.
“Joel, I’m tired.” you begin, your voice breaking as fresh tears run down your face and onto his thumbs. “Tired to my bones. All I want is to be honest with each other. Do you think we can do that? Can we talk like two adults with nothing left to lose? Can we just be truthful to each other? I know there’s too much history between us, too much hurt and resentment but we both have to try and put it all behind us. I can’t go on like this.”
There’s a stillness in him, realization and clarity dawning on him. He thinks he understands now and it shocks him somehow, as a fact, that there are still things to uncover, to revel in, to acknowledge. Every time he thinks he’s reached the end of this journey, a new sun rises over the horizon.
You don’t need the specifics of his action, at least not right now, or not anymore. What you need is closure. True, honest closure. And that can only come from him baring himself to you. “Yeah, yeah, we can do that. We can do anything you want, baby.”, he squeezes his eyes shut, knowing where to begin, but resisting the thought. He leans back in his seat, dropping his hands from your face as he lets out the breath he seems to be holding in and begins.
“Remember that night before your business trip when you came to my office?”
“Uh, yeah? I guess.”, what a strange thing to mention, you think confused. “What about it?”
“You came to me for sex.”, Joel says bluntly, no need to beat around the bush. This is it. This is how he loses you. Once again.
You stare at him and then, for some reason, look down in embarrassment. You’ve fucked him in almost every way you can think of and now the very admission of that fact makes you feel like an exposed nerve. It dawns on you, how far away this era has slipped away. You feel vulnerable as if you’re talking to a total stranger about your most intimate moments. At the same time, you still know exactly how to touch him, how to please him and a light warmth begins to shimmer inside you.
“Well, that’s one way of putting it, but- yeah..”, you admit, still nervously picking at your food with your fork.
Joel sees your apprehension but he presses on. This is what you asked for. “And I refused you.” The look on your face betrays your confusion. Where is he going with this? Only now, he sees more. He can finally see more. The hurt. The disappointment. “What happened next?” is his next question and does he really think that you can remember all these years later? Does he honestly believe that you can recall yourself leaving his office defeated and crying yourself to sleep? “I don’t remember.” you lie, shrugging your shoulders as convincingly as you can muster.
“You said you loved me and then you left.”, Joel reminds you.
“You- you remember all that?”, your eyes are wide and the look on your face vulnerable, Joel wants to pause it all and hold you in his arms.
“I can’t seem to forget anything about you,” he reveals, “believe me, I’ve tried.”
“What’s your point?”
“Why did you do that?”
“Uh.. why did I do what?”, you narrow your eyes in confusion.
His eyes are piercing yours, provoking you to figure it out on your own.
“Loved you?” He shakes his head almost imperceptibly.
Your eyes widen again, in surprise this time, as you finally see what he means.
“Walked away?” You’re fucking shocked to the core, your voice choked, you’re not sure you spoke out loud.
“Why didn’t you insist?”
Your mouth is wide open, you’re speechless, you flatter your eyelids in search of the right words. This is your second encounter and once again he says what you least expect him to say.
“You refused” you remind him now, “and I respected that.”, your hand moves to rest on your chest, palm open, to calm your racing heart.
“I didn’t want you to.”
“You know how that sounds, don’t you?”, you mock with a nervous laugh.
“Oh, please,” Joel is quick to respond, his brows knitted in a dismissive frown, “like you could ever force yourself on me.”
You genuinely are at a loss for words, your gaze unable to stay in one place, your mind running a million miles an hour.
Apparently you both are, because Joel is no better at explaining how he feels. “I wanted you to-”, he stops, his eyes still searching yours for the right words, pleading with you to feel him.
Oh my god. Oh. My. God.
It dawns on you. All at once. You see it all playing out. You know exactly how this conversation is going to go. “-claim you? You wanted me to claim you?”, your voice rises, as does your tone. You feel the presence of your abandoned friend again. You don’t want him here. But he creeps in through your veins, nonetheless. He is not giving up. If the pounding doesn’t work then he’ll poison you, slowly and persistently.
“From who? You were supposed to be mine!”, you exclaim exasperated, immediately correcting yourself “-not that I owned you, you know what-”
“That! That’s what I’m talking about!” Joel points his finger at you, “That’s what I needed. To be yours!”
“But you were! Are we really haggling over semantics? Of course you were mine! I just never wanted you to feel suffocated by me. You were not my possession Joel, you were my partner!”
“I swear to you, I would die a happy man, baby.”
“I- I tried so hard to control myself-” you mutter to yourself, rolling your eyes back to your head as you shake it in denial, “-all that hunger inside of me, eating me up-”
“What?” is Joel’s turn to look like a lost puppy. What the fuck is going on here?
“You,” you point a finger at him, “you were my first and last thought every passing day, it wasn’t even healthy anymore, Joel. But- I saw that look in your eyes sometimes, a hunger, one I thought mirrored mine and then it was gone in the blink of an eye and I thought that something was holding you back; I- I was holding you back. I thought- maybe I was undeserving..” you divert your eyes from him, embarrassed at your feeling of inadequacy, “So, I accepted what you gave me if it meant I could have any part of you.”
“Oh, baby..” Joel’s hiding his face in his palms and his heart breaks as he realizes where you both stand. How did the two of you get to this point? How could his judgment be so clouded, how could he be so blind to what was happening under his own roof? How could he be so arrogant as to seek validation, one he didn't even need, from someone else? Someone whose validation he didn't even care about. It didn't matter to him. She didn’t matter to him. How could he not sense the insecurity tantalizing your very core to the point of feeling inadequate? If only you had told him sooner.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” you mirror his thoughts with your voice.
“What should I say to you? I couldn’t put it into words, even now I'm not sure I can. It was an all-consuming feeling, an absolute necessity, an overwhelming need that was impossible to handle. I wasn’t mentally or emotionally prepared to deal with it. I loved you with such force that it became an obsession. I couldn’t even entertain the idea that you might not want me back in the same way. I felt helpless, vulnerable. How could I come to terms with this? With the realization that I had fucked someone else just to get a rise out of you or to prove to myself that I didn't need you that much after all?”
Joel’s palms are clenched into fists on his thighs, trying to keep himself from pressing his lips against yours. Feelings and desires that had been buried in his subconscious for too long came back as he tried to make you understand.
“A r- so, you did fuck her on our bed on purpose.”
“You asked me that before, darlin’, I promise you I did not.”
“Then how would you provoke me if you didn’t mean for me to find out?” you look at him incredulously.
“I-” Joel winces, “it wasn’t a conscious thought, I just kept fantasizing about you finding out and burning the house down for me and that single image made me so h-” Joel shuts his mouth abruptly, not the best idea to describe to you how fuckin’ hard he got, fantasizing about you while fucking someone else. You, bursting into the bedroom all raging and furious, turning the whole place upside down reclaiming what was rightfully yours.
Him.
What a sick fuck he was. “I swear to you, no. I’m not that fucked up. It was a gigantic lack of judgment, I was fuckin’ drunk, my mind was a mess at that point. That whole week was-” he’s biting his tongue hard to stop himself while rubbing his forehead with his fingers, “I was just being an idiot.”
“The week I was gone?”
“Yes.”
“What about it?”
“Nothing, ‘snothing.” and he doesn’t elaborate. “Just a bad fuckin’ week.”
The atmosphere suddenly feels suffocating, as if all the words that have spilled out of both your mouths are hovering over your heads like a black cloud. You need some air to clear your mind, so you make your way out of the kitchen without looking back and walk slowly to the porch, sitting on the steps at the bottom of the stairs. You know he will follow. Your bare feet touch the soft soil beneath you and you try to ground yourself through the little patch of earth you call your own. It doesn’t quite work. There’s a beautiful golden glow, a last gift from the parting sun, warming your soul. Everything is going to be all right.
“Strange fantasies we both had.” you say as Joel seats down next to you, the contract once again a barrier between you. “You kept fantasizing about me finding out about your affair-”.
“It wasn’t an affair-” Joel corrects you. “Fine, fine. You imagined that, while I kept fantasizing me holding you so tightly while we fucked that our flesh became one; that’s how deep I needed you inside me, that’s how obsessively I wanted to carry you with me all the time, isn’t that totally fucked up?” you laugh dejectedly.
“I guess we are the same kind of fucked up. If only we could admit it to each other..”
“Did you really feel that I didn’t love you enough?” you whisper, almost too scared to be heard and to get an answer.
“I think we loved each other too much. I think we were both too afraid of losing each other. I think,” Joel pauses for a moment to gather his thoughts and calm his voice, “in our efforts to keep each other we did the exact opposite. More me than you, for sure. I have handled things badly and badly is an understatement.”
“You were always so patient with me. You’d always wait for me to come to you, to take my time. I needed the savage in you, or I thought I did at the time. That desperate thing I felt creeping out of you in stolen glances or bitten lips between your teeth, or when we fucked; no one has ever fucked me like you did. I did see all of you then, you know. And I think you saw all of me. If I made you feel confident or safe enough, you would have talked to me. And if I wasn’t so self-absorbed I would have asked.”
You never thought you’d hear these words from Joel, but all this time of self-reflection has changed him in a way that reminds you of the Joel you fell in love with. The one you could see behind all those layers of self-protection, the one you’d always hoped would emerge for you. And then he goes on, and you wish you knew what was coming so you could protect your heart from being torn to shreds.
“Maybe-” he closes his eyes looking pained, “maybe I was a narcissist. Maybe you gave me all you had and I kept wanting more, maybe I needed every part of you for myself. Maybe I needed you on your knees, on a leash, at my mercy, just to have the illusion of the certainty that you would never leave me. Maybe freedom is for those who can bear it, after all. Hell, maybe I was the one who needed the leash in the end. Maybe you gave me too much credit, my love, when you deemed me worthy of freedom.”
His words are earth-shuttering, obliterating, final. There’s nothing left to be said, at least nothing of substance. Final. The fucking word plays over and over in your head. Final. This is final. You could swear that you have felt every possible kind of pain during these four long years but new depths of agony are being discovered right now. The acid in your stomach makes your throat constrict. You feel petrified.
Joel can sense your distress, his words have been of no comfort to you. Your skin looks pale, covered with a thin layer of cold sweat; you look physically ill. Your forearms rest on your knees and he gently cups your elbow to check in on you. Are you OK? You smile weakly at him, the expression not reaching the corners of your eyes.
“You know I would give anything to take it all back, right?”
Your laughter is more lively now, not with malice or sarcasm, but with a sense of humor.
“Yeah, yeah, I think I do.”, you shake your head in twisted amusement, tilting your head up, to let the last rays of the sun warm your face, maybe bring back some of your lost color. It's getting dark now, the day is coming to an end, the curtains of the last sunlight are almost closed. Your eyes are closed too, your head still tilted back as you laugh to yourself, “You did that backwards, too, you know.”
“What?”
“You have burned everything to the ground, only to realize that you want to get it all back in one piece. I mean it’s- it’s-” you struggle to find the right words but Joel offers one of his own.
“Ridiculous..”
“I was gonna say pointless.. But that’s the thing, Joel. Choosing to be with someone is like faith. You believe because you just know. You don't have to find evidence to prove your choice at every turn, otherwise it’s just exhausting. You choose to trust yourself.”
“Trust me as your partner, you mean, not yourself.”
“Joel, it was never about trusting you..”
“I’m sorry, I don’t understand..”
“I’m not sure how to explain it- uh..”, you raise your shoulders and your brows in unison as you shake your head slightly, searching for the words. “Trust is a personal journey. ‘Trust’ doesn't mean ‘trust in you’, I’m not trusting you. No one can be sure of anyone. ‘Trust’ means that I have faith in myself, that even if you hurt me, even if you abandon me, I will not fall apart. And..” you shrug your shoulders, hugging yourself with your hands, “look at me, Joel..”, you finish, suggesting that you’re still here, still standing.
“I am, baby; I am..” Joel replies, taking in the sight of you as if it were the last time he’ll ever have the chance to, utterly compelled by your inner glow.
“I’m not mad at you Joel, not anymore. And I believe you, I really do. But I can’t get that scene out of my head. I just can’t. I can still hear the sounds, I can even recall the way you smelled when you were standing next to me.”
His hands are shaking.
“I’m not trying to hurt you, really.”
“I know.”, his voice is barely audible.
“I think you’ve done enough of that yourself. Maybe it’s time to forgive yourself?”
“Do you?” Do you, really? Do you forgive him after all that has been said? Do all these confessions illuminate the facts from a different perspective? Does it change what he did and what you went through? And if so, does that mean you're letting him go? Are you leaving him behind? Is he leaving you behind? Why is it so hard to let go? Why do you choose the safety of the known, even when it hurts you?
You choose not to answer and instead firmly insist, “You have to forgive yourself, Joel, it’s okay.” Be the better person. If not for him, then for yourself. Let him go.
“I can’t do that.”, Joel is adamant, shaking his head while he rejects your request.
“Yes, you can.” you urge him again. “As I can and do.” Let him go.
Joel never thought he would listen to those words coming out of your mouth. He doesn’t deserve them. He hasn’t earned them. “You forgive me?”, he repeats in utter shock and disbelief.
“Yes.” Loud and clear as daylight.
“I- You can’t- I don’t- I don’t deserve that.” Joel feels like he’s drowning in your so graciously offered Holy Grail, desperately trying to keep his head above the waters of your absolution.
“I can’t be the judge of that, Joel, hell, I can’t be the judge of anyone. The way I see it, you chose your actions and I chose mine. You chose to hurt me and I chose to walk away. We both lost something. Have we not suffered enough, Joel?” you ask him honestly.
“I don’t want to presume, but- isn’t it a great burden to carry on your shoulders when you try to move on? All this anger, all that bitterness?” you search his eyes for an answer but he doesn’t give you one.
You continue, hoping to get through to him. “Your feelings are your burden Joel and it doesn’t matter if I forgive you. That’s why it is you who needs to forgive yourself.”
His eyes still refuse to meet yours, stubbornly glued to the ground. “I’m not doing this for you, I’m doing this for me. We need to move forward, both of us.” is the last thing you say to him, not knowing if he even listened to half of what you just said.
You both fall into a thoughtful silence, but something you said is bugging him. He can’t quite figure it out, so he turns to look at you, to savor you while he still has the chance. He knows that his time is limited.
You’re just sitting there with him, trying to comfort him, you of all people. You seem lighter now, fidgeting absentmindedly with your fingers as if some of your burden has already been lifted. And as his gaze sweeps over you, he sees it again. He sees the white shirt hugging your body and he knows what’s troubling him.
I don’t want to presume, I don’t want to presume, I don’t want to presume.
His heart beats rapidly in his chest, panic rising inside him.
“I’ve been with you for the last four years.”
“Excuse me?” your hands freeze as you turn to face him, clearly confused.
“You said you didn’t want to presume anything and I need to set the record straight. There was and is no other woman in my life except you.”
“Joel,” you blush shyly, “this is none of my business, you are free-”
“No. No. I need you to know this, it’s important to me. I meant everything I said. You have done nothing wrong. My feelings for you have never changed-”
“Joel, please..” you beg him to stop, you can’t have this conversation now, it’s too soon. No, you’re wrong. It’s too late; too soon means there’s a future ahead of you. A future where you both fit in the same universe.
“I don’t want you to think that I came all the way out here just to tie up some loose ends and move on. That is not what this is about.”
“If you expect me to tell you about my personal life..” your what now?
“No, I don’t. And I don’t think I could handle it, anyway. You are a free woman and you deserve the world. Unlike me; I don’t deserve anything and I’ll never be free of you.”
Your chin is now trembling and you bite your lower lip to stop the involuntary muscle contraction. You can’t decipher if it’s from anger for the way things came to be or from deep, excruciating sadness for how Joel feels. For how he makes you feel.
“Free woman, huh?”, you whisper bitterly, looking down at your feet, willing yourself not to cry.
“Yes, free, as you should always have been and I’m sorry I couldn’t see it sooner.”
Joel then picks up the divorce papers from the floor next to him as he’s fishing a pen out of his pocket. He stares at you and then at the blank space where his signature should be, next to yours. He splays his palm over the last page as if to straighten it out, but it almost looks like he’s caressing it. He brings the ball of the pen to the white surface and for a moment his hand lingers over it. He doesn’t dare look at you again, his resolve is not that strong. Finally, finally he signs, filling the empty spot and he hands you the contract. It’s a strange moment, the one before the signature and the one after it.
Everything seems to be the same; it is just a signature.
Everything feels completely different; it is not just a signature.
Your fingertips brush his as you reach out to take it, the touch sending shivers down your spine. Your slightly trembling hands hold the papers gently, not sure you wanna hold on to them or scatter them on the ground. Your thumb swipes softly over his signature.
You feel it, now. You feel the ground beneath your bare feet, the warmth of the earth, the weight of your footing. The falling has stopped. The feather finally rests. You have landed.
Joel moves to stand on his feet, as you keep staring at the drying ink, when you feel something fall from above onto your thumb; but you can’t see anything as it is immediately absorbed by the hungry pores of the paper, slightly smudging his signature. You look up to catch him as he dries his eyes with his thumb and forefinger.
“Free as a bird, baby, ready to fly over the world.”, Joel smiles at you with a look of reverence and devotion in his eyes.
You picture the floating feather in your head and smile back at him with a serenity he hasn’t seen in a long time.
“I think I just want to walk for a while. One step at a time.”
He nods, his eyes still full of emotion and you watch as he begins to walk slowly towards his truck, when suddenly he turns his body to face you but continues to walk backward in the same direction.
“Hey!” he calls to you with a mischievous smile, raising his chin to you.
“Yeah?” you answer, your voice wavering slightly as you try to hide your smile.
“Can I take you to dinner sometime?” he asks as he reaches for his driver’s door and opens it, waiting for your answer, which never comes because you think he’s joking. But he continues to stare at you, with no expectations, quietly, earnestly, sincerely, with a soft, shy smile on his lips. Oh.
Oh.
“Joel..” is all you breathe out, closing your eyes for a moment before you look at him again, because his name is all that is left in your very being right now. Joel.
He seems lighter, too.
“Maybe, one day..?”
“Yeah.. Maybe, one day..”
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Taglist: @southernbe, @orcasoul, @auteurdelabre @leggtostandon @sarahhxx03
@zliteraturehoe @msmorningstaarr @gossipgirl-03 @vabeachazn @joeldjarin
@sofiparallel
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evangelical04 · 2 months
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A Single Daffodil || 1
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Summary: Getting arranged to be married to your long-time crush wasn't exactly the fairy tale romance you were hoping for. Nor is the dynamic of the marriage, with your husband treating you like you don't exist. But you're going to make this work, whether he cares about you or not. And he definitely doesn't...right?
Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader
Rating: 18+ minors DNI
Word Count: 2.7K
Genre: angst, romance, unrequited love, smut, enemies to lovers, arranged marriage au, businessman yoongi
Warnings: parental trauma, sibling trauma, toxic parents, unrequited love, explicit language, alcohol usage, yoongi's kind of mean, future smut
Author's Note: hello! i'm Eva and this is my first fic on tumblr ever! I've been a reader for so long and I've always wanted to write my own stories, so I figured I finally would. I know it’s kind of short but I promise the other parts will be longer. Please give me any feedback you have and let me know if you'd like there to be a tag list or anything! I hope you guys like it!! p.s. I'm totally posting this instead of doing my morphology homework that's due in 15 minutes
masterlist / next
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The door to your childhood home looked artificially welcoming. There were too many flowers lining the walls encasing the looming wooden door. The grass on the lawn just was a bit too green without a blade out of place and the paved walkway was freshly powerwashed and missing even a speck of dirt. You let out the deep breath you were holding and gently took hold of the overly ornate bronze knocker adorning the painted wood of the door. Two loud thuds rang out as you knocked and the door quickly opened afterwards.
“Hello, Miss Y/N, your parents have been expecting you.”
“Yes, I know. Thank you, Mrs. Oh,” you responded quietly, nodding at the grey-haired woman. She shot you a sympathetic smile before ushering you in, taking your coat and carefully laying it over her arm. After removing your shoes, you followed her past the foyer to the living room where your parents awaited. 
You knew what was coming, you knew that this had been decided long before you were born. Yet, you still felt unprepared. You had grown comfortable, living in your simple apartment in Gangnam and your quiet work routine. Biting your lip, you reprimanded yourself internally, You should’ve brought this shit up in therapy before it happened.
“Here we are, Miss Y/N,” Mrs. Oh said, snapping you out of your self-pity session. You nodded gratefully at her, sending a small smile her way. Her eyebrows wove together in her own pity-ridden expression and she quickly whispered, “Good luck,” while exiting swiftly. You steeled your nerves and forced your chin up high, knowing that you’d most likely cower inwards as soon as you faced your parents anyway.
Stepping into the room, you noted the almost intervention-like setup your parents had arranged themselves in, with your father sitting proudly in his reclining, leather armchair, clad in a dark blue quarter zip and khaki pants. Your mother stood facing the fireplace, arms crossed, in a simple and elegant turquoise dress and hair tied up in a tight and neat bun, with her baby hairs smoothed back to prevent any imperfection. You could almost imagine her pinched mouth, forever encased in a stern and unamused expression. 
“Hello father, mother,” you started, trying to smooth the slight trembling in your voice. Your mother turned around, eyes narrowing at your form, “Sit down.”
You promptly obeyed.
“Your father and I have decided on your marriage. It’ll be to the Min family, to Min Yoongi.”
“What? To him? But,” you began protesting but your mother quickly cut you off with a steely glare. 
“It has already been decided. Your wedding will be in eight months. I’ll forward you the invitation list and you can add three people of your choosing. You’ll be having dinner with us and the Min family on Friday at six. I’ll have Yujin send you an email with further details. Don’t be late.” 
You looked to your father in a desperate plea but were only met with stony silence and a passive face. You turned back to your mother and registered the composed expression painting her face. Your fate had been decided, and it had not worked in your favor at all. Rising slowly, you set your hands by your side and bowed towards your parents, “I understand. I’ll be there.”
Your mother swiftly exited the room, evidently deciding the conversation was over. You could hear her dangling earrings tinkling against each other in what felt like a mocking melody. Your father calmly produced a cigar from the table next to him and lit up, no longer acknowledging you either. You let out another slow breath and walked out. 
Collecting your coat from Mrs. Oh, who tried to give you a comforting shoulder squeeze but it felt more like condolences than anything, and made your way to your car parked in front of the gate closing off your parents’ home. 
That’s it then.
You felt eerily calm yet stressed as you started up your car and carefully reversed out, making sure to avoid hitting the carved statues your parents had in front of the iron gate. As you drove home, your mind started racing with the information you had been relayed. 
Min Yoongi as your soon-to-be-husband? What irony.
Does he even know you exist?
Will you be able to survive this?
Hand gripping the steering wheel hard, you quickly dialed the most recent number in your contact list. She answered after only two rings.
“Y/N! Are you still alive? How’d it go?”
“Hi Joohee, not great. I’m completely and totally fucked.”
Joohee chuckled on the other end of the line, “Want to come over?”
“Yes,” you breathed, “I was hoping you’d offer.”
“I’ll get the booze.”
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“Min Yoongi? Now that’s ironic,” Joohee chuckled, seemingly at your expense. You shot a glare her way which she shrugged in response to.
“How long have you been crushing on him? This is, like, practically fate. Maybe this’ll be a good thing.”
You scoffed in response, “A good thing? Joohee, be serious. The last thing I want to do is get with my long-time infatuation, not crush, by forcing him to be my husband.” You took another swig of wine. It was a cheap pink Moscato, perfect for nights like these with Joohee. 
Joohee shoved a pillow in your direction in an effort to gain more room on the couch you had stuffed yourselves onto. The trash reality dating show you had on in the background was showing a rather dramatic fight but you paid it no attention, “It’s just…I haven’t talked to him in the last, what, five years? He probably doesn’t even remember me. And you’ve heard the rumors, I don’t think he’ll be exactly thrilled at giving up his playboy lifestyle just because he has to marry me.”
“What if he doesn’t give that up?”
You stared at Joohee in slight surprise, “What do you mean?”
“Like, what if he says that he doesn’t want to stop hooking up with other people? What will you do?”
Your brows furrowed as you considered the question, “I don’t know, I guess. I mean, I can’t really stop him. I guess I’d just have to live with it.”
Joohee hummed in response before continuing on, “Well, this is happening whether you like it or not. Just try to make it amicable at the least. Maybe it’ll work out, you never know. Just look at Jin oppa.”
Kim Seokjin, Joohee’s older brother and a friend of Min Yoongi’s, was arranged by Joohee’s parents to marry Song Yeonhee, and the two had seemingly fallen in love after a rocky start to their nuptials. You had seen them recently at Yeonhee’s baby shower and she had been glowing, looking unbelievably happy. You recalled the loving gaze that Seokjin had sent her during the party and the pang of envy you felt, knowing that you would likely never get to experience that. 
“Yeah, well,” you responded, “He’s an outlier. Most of these types of marriages don’t work out. I have a feeling I’m going to be a part of that group.”
“You’re too negative, you haven’t even met him for dinner yet. Maybe he’ll surprise you. You just have to give him the chance.”
You mulled over Joohee’s words and nodded, “Yeah, maybe you’re right. I guess I’ll see how Friday goes.”
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You weren’t technically late. 
While you still had about 5 minutes before the dinner officially started, you weren’t early, and that was unacceptable by your mother’s standards. A mini emergency at your job had left you scrambling to leave on time, only noticing the late hour when one of your coworkers asked if they should order take-out for the team. After profusely apologizing to your team, they encouraged you to go, practically shooing you out the door, claiming they could handle the situation for now. 
Which left you barely on time to park in the lot outside the ridiculously fancy Japanese restaurant your mother’s assistant, Yujin, had sent to your email earlier that week. You quickly stepped out, smoothing out your dress that you had kept in the backseat of your car and had hastily changed into in the parking lot of your office. Tugging down the hem, you took a moment to look at your reflection in your car window and attempt to look more presentable. Your hair was slightly frizzy but nicely combed back, and you had extremely minimal makeup on from only remembering last minute this morning, and your eyes looked tired. 
You felt tired.
Shaking off your nerves, you headed inside the restaurant giving your family name to the hostess who took you back to a private room where your mother and father were waiting. Your father spared you only a cursory glance before returning his gaze to his phone and your mother looked you up and down before uttering a curt, “Hm.” You held in an eye roll and quickly sat next to them, trying to calm your heart rate for the sure-to-be exhilarating dinner ahead. At six on the dot, you spotted the same hostess leading the Min family towards your table. Your mother stood, welcoming them and urging them to sit down. You stood as well, a little less welcoming, a lot more obligated. 
Mrs. Min looked like the epitome of a rich older woman with dark black hair combed back and glittering jewels lining her ears and neck, complementing the midnight blue gown she had on. Mr. Min was dressed quite similarly to your father, in a simple suit, the only difference being his starkly greying hair providing quite the contrast to his dark blazer. Close behind them was the person you were the most anxious about meeting, Min Yoongi. His pitch-black hair complemented his slightly tanned skin nicely and his feline eyes remained straightforward and untelling. He was dressed in a simple black suit as well with an expensive-looking watch adoring his wrist. His mouth was closed tightly and he did not smile at your mother when she greeted him, not at your father when they sat down across from your family, and certainly not at you.
Your hands nervously played with each other in your lap as you took your seat again. You listened quietly as the mothers exchanged pleasantries and the fathers gruffly greeted each other. You were trying to avoid looking at Yoongi as much as possible.
“So, Y/N,” Mrs. Min started, making you startle to attention, “How old are you now?”
“Twenty-nine, ma’am.”
“Ah, so only a bit younger than Yoongi. That’s good then. How is your work?”
You felt your father stiffen next to you and prayed your discomfort didn’t show on your face, “Good. I’m in the middle of producing a new project with my team.”
“How lovely. Although I’m sure you’ll be leaving that soon after the wedding. You won’t need to work then after all,” Mrs. Min smiled at you. It was hard to read her so you couldn’t tell if she was being genuine or not, though if you had to guess, it was likely the latter. Your job was a point of contention with your family. Choosing to work in a video game production company did not go over well, and if your older brother, Kyungsoo, hadn’t been in line to inherit Seo Industries, you would’ve never been able to keep it. 
You smiled awkwardly in response to Mrs. Min and returned your gaze to the empty plate in front of you. 
As the conversation dragged on, you couldn’t help but steal a glance or two at Yoongi, who was periodically checking his phone and looking permanently bored of the conversation. Not that you could blame him. The dull talk of social circle gossip and work was beginning to get grating, and even the introduction of fancy entrees wasn’t enough to stop your stomach from feeling queasy. 
Yoongi had yet to say one word to you. To be fair, you hadn’t said anything to him either, but he had barely looked in your direction since he entered the private dining room. How exactly were you supposed to start a conversation with that? 
Soon after the desserts came out and were finished, with you politely refusing, feeling like you were going to throw up any second, Mrs. Min suddenly pushed her chair back and stood. She looked down at you and Yoongi and announced, “Well. I think we can leave them to talk on their own for a bit. Why don’t you join us for a drink at our home, Eujin-ssi?”
At the sound of her name, your mother stood, nodding, “Yes, that sounds lovely. Let’s let them get to know each other a bit more.” With that, the parents swiftly gathered their belongings and left, before you could even protest, leaving you staring open-mouthed at the exit. 
Slowly, you turned to face Yoongi and were startled, seeing his eyes already boring into yours. 
“Let’s get one thing straight,” Yoongi stated, his deep and stable voice wrapping around you for the first time that night, “This marriage means nothing to me. It shouldn’t to you either. I’ll do my thing and you do yours. Most importantly, stay out of my life except when necessary. Just because my parents are forcing my hand doesn’t mean I have to adhere to every little thing. Nothing will be changing except for our living situation and a ring on our fingers.”
A little stunned, you could only stutter a passive agreement and watch as he rose and left without sparing you another glance. 
Letting out a deep breath, you closed your eyes, trying to understand what had just transpired. Your heart raced as you quickly stacked up the dishes to be a bit easier for the busboy and quickly made your way to your car. Sitting down in the driver’s seat, you vaguely registered Min Yoongi’s cold demeanor towards you.
It seems he didn’t remember you after all.
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The dress you had on was itchy, but you knew if you complained, you would only end up with a sharp stinging on your cheek and tear-filled eyes. You had escaped the boring party with grown-ups and were sitting outside on a stone bench in the garden, trying to remedy your hurt feelings at the hands of the mean, older boy, Hyunsoo. 
He had confidently poked fun at your appearance, saying the dress was a bit too small on you and that your parents should’ve sprung for a size that could fit an elephant instead. He continued on, saying your parents must’ve forgotten to vaccinate you for measles considering all the red spots on your face that were actually acne. Being a tender twelve years of age and going through the worst bits of puberty, his words hit you hard and you quickly ran from the scene into the garden. 
Unable to contain your tears, they slipped down your face in large droplets and soaked into the front of your dress. 
“Hey, you.”
Startled, you looked up to see a boy a couple of years older than you standing in front of you, black hair shining in the light from the garden lamps. His sharp eyes trailed down your tear-stained face. You quickly turned away in shame, not wanting to undergo any more embarrassment tonight. 
“Hey, snot-face.”
You shot him a glare but softened when you saw his hand extended, holding a handkerchief, his face turned slightly away, “Use this. You look ugly while you’re crying.”
You gingerly took the cloth from his hands and blew your nose, noticing him wince out of the corner of your eye. 
“Thank you,” you managed and he only rolled his eyes in response. 
“Yeah, whatever. I think Joohee’s looking for you,” he grumbled before turning on his heel and stalking off back towards the party. 
Confused, your eyes followed after him, not knowing how he knew that Joohee would be looking for you. You unfolded the handkerchief and noticed an elegant embroidering of three letters in black near the bottom, MYG. 
Oh, you realized, Min Yoongi. Joohee’s older brother was friends with him but you had never seen him before. Joohee had described him as kind of rude and quite closed off, but you disagreed. He certainly didn’t seem that bad.
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diordeer · 3 months
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౨ৎ HENRY, COME ON
“baby come on, do you think i’d really lose it on ya? if you did nothing wrong? henry come on,” - lana del rey (smau)
contains: charlie bushnell x songwriter!reader
description: i hope u guys know the lyrics has nothing to do with the plot of the fic i just love lana
requested by: anon 😧
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Liked by honeymoon, iamcharliebushnell and others
yn.ln thank you so so so much lana for letting me work on your album ‘lasso’, love u so much ❤️ p.s. go listen in september!
tagged honeymoon
user1 any song you work on i automatically love
↳ user2 REAL YN SEES THE VISION AND EMBODIES IT
honeymoon love u forever 😘
↳ yn.ln every time i have any contact with u i need to remember my life is real and i didnt make up even knowing u
user3 yn and lana del rey?! The dream!!
user4 i mean henry come on!!!
user5 lana going country is something i never knew i was missing but i am now feeling empty until september
dior.n.goodjohn A PURE TALENT !! 😍
↳ yn.ln umm says YOU?!?!
iamcharliebushnell u did amazing !! 🩷🩷 (as always)
↳ yn.ln 😘😘
↳ walker.scobell ew
user6 they look SOOO good omg
user7 us trying to zoom into the last photo to see the new songs
↳ user8 LMAO SAMEE
↳ yn.ln its too blurry you guys will never know 🤫 (until september obvi)
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yn.ln life lately, greece edition!
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leahsavajeffries i see u went to my cafe 😍
↳ yn.ln always!
↳ iamcharliebushnell the coffee there was SOO GOOD
user1 charlie and yn together is so random but so perfect and everytime i remember they are together it makes my day
user2 mans GLOWING
user3 oh to be dating charlie on a holiday in greece
dior.n.goodjohn you guys are so cute. stop it.
↳ yn.ln never
walker.scobell i cant believe you guys didnt invite me with you to greece
↳ iamcharliebushnell its pre research for when i join Kronos 😊
↳ walker.scobell ok so now u ruined it
user4 the aesthetics 😍
user5 me patiently awaiting a new song or even better album from yn ☺️
↳ user6 girl stop exspecting yn to be working 24/7
↳ user5 ….there are song lyrics on the post?
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iamcharliebushnell yn evenings photo dump 🫣
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user1 mans crazy for posting a paparazzi pic of him and yn
↳ user2 hes down BAD
yn.ln whos that cutie in the second photo 😧
↳ iamcharliebushnell he’s taken sorry
↳ yn.ln omg what a loyal man 🥰🥰
↳ iamcharliebushnell stop flirting with me i literally have a gf!
user3 THE WOMAN IN THE FIRST PIC LMAO
↳ walker.scobell shes a real one, they need to get a room!!
↳ iamcharliebushnell WOWWW WALKER
↳ leahsavajeffries im on his side!
user4 the way hes holding her?! stop this
user5 why is he wearing sunglasses in the dark 🤔
↳ yn.ln im actually an angel, so when you look at me in real life i burst into a lot of bright lights which is why you need to wear sunglasses around me
↳ dior.n.goodjohn true! not clickbait!
taglist: @lostinhisworld @lizziesfirstwife @auttumnsayshi @silkenthusiasts @taygrls @kidkrowk @kanojous @niktwazny303 @m00ng4z3r @highfidelities @b0ok-lover @vamplyle
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astonmartinii · 2 months
Text
a spoonful of sugar part two | oscar piastri social media au
pairing: oscar piastri x fem chef!reader
cheffing it up all over the calendar, here we go again
PART ONE | MASTERLIST | TIP JAR | MY SMALL BUSINESS
yourusername
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tagged: oscarpiastri
yourusername: we're in JAPAN 🇯🇵 WOOOOOOOOOOOOOO !!! yeah suzuka is cool and all but more importantly - SUSHI TIME and my oh my that spread is glorious if i do say so myself
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user1: oscar babygirlism is so real
landonorris: HOW DARE YOU GUYS INVITE ME OVER FOR DINNER AND SERVE THAT
yourusername: boo fucking hoo, i've had enough of your whining buddy
landonorris: OSCAR STOP HER SHE'S BEING MEAN
oscarpiastri: i mean i would take the home-cooked meal from the professional chef but that's just me
landonorris: stop shaming me :( i can't help it :(
yourusername: okay stop being dramatic, you can comeback from your hiding place i made chicken sushi as well
landonorris: oh thank you 😊
oscarpiastri: when i came in as the YOUNGER teammate, i didn't think y/n and i would be babysitting you
landonorris: you guys love me really
user2: i think y/n might have the patience of a saint
user3: i think i would die happy if i got a sushi spread from y/n
yukitsunoda0511: personally offended i was not invited :(
yourusername: nooooooooooo yukiii :((((( - i'll bring left overs ?
yukitsunoda0511: yes please (i'm much nicer than lando)
landonorris: when will the slander end?
oscarpiastri: i'm personally offended that any time y/n is visiting ME she ends up cooking and looking after all of you :(
yourusername: i love you the most though
oscarpiastri: hehehehehehe
user4: this relationship is so precious to me actually
oscarpiastri
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oscarpiastri: over the moon to get my first podium in f1 in my rookie season. p.s. get yourself a girlfriend that gives you a candy bouquet to celebrate your podium
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user5: oscodium i know that's right
mclarenf1: we don't think that's in your meal plan, but we'll let it slide for just this once
yourusername: damn right you will 🔫🔫🔫
oscarpiastri: okay no threatening my team on a post about my podium
yourusername: i guess they're fine (FOR NOW) (the next time i see team orders it's on sight)
mclarenf1: ... does this mean no more pasta parties? :(
yourusername: get my boy his first win and pasta for life for all of you
user6: the way y/n and oscar's mum both fell into each other when oscar crossed the finish line
user7: they're so real for that
user8: y/n is REAL wag representation, i too would go FUCKING mental if my boyf got a podium i would also be spraying champagne all over the garage and crying my eyes out
yourusername: I LOVE YOU SO MUCH AND I'M SO FUCKING PROUD OF YOU
oscarpiastri: I LOVE YOU MORE, THANK YOU FOR ALWAYS SUPPORTING ME - and looking after my mum after you caused a stampede in the garage
yourusername: hold on nicole is just as crazy as me
oscarpiastri: my two favourite women EVA
user9: when you're besties with your boyf's mum >>
landonorris: congrats oscahhhhhhh - how does one procure one of these bouquets?
oscarpiastri: hands off pal 🤨
landonorris: i just want CANDY STOP ACCUSING ME OF STUFF
yourusername: oh so now you want my food ....
landonorris: why are you ganging up on me ??? I'M JUST A CHILD ???
user10: i love watching oscar and y/n ganging up on lando
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logansargeant
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liked by oscarpiastri, yourusername and 309,788 others
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logansargeant: category is: thirdwheeling - the food is a definite plus
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user12: the real best trio in f1 ... sorry 2019 rookies
alexalbon: logie bear beating the unseasoned allegations... i am impressed
logansargeant: i am cultured?
yourusername: logan had no choice, he was eating what i made him
logansargeant: but i liked it!
yourusername: you did, i'm a proud mother
alexalbon: what are the chances of me and james getting some of the y/n food, we deserve it more than mclaren
yourusername: name the price...
user13: i love how oscar and y/n have collected so many drivers this season despite being the youngest
oscarpiastri: not even finished my first season and we've accumulated so many "children"
logansargeant: don't have a gf who is such a good chef if you didn't want to babysit me
yourusername: we can't help it we're mOTHER
oscarpiastri: 💅
charles_leclerc: @oscarpiastri did our post podium dinner in aus mean nothing? you're neglecting your 26 year old child
maxverstappen1: classic treatment of the eldest girl 😔
yourusername: you guys done being dramatic?
charles_leclerc: one second
charles_leclerc: YOU'RE JUST THE SAME AS EVERYONE ELSE, PICK ME UP AND DROP ME - USERS !!!!
charles_leclerc: okay done :)
oscarpiastri: ok... idk what the fuck is going on here
maxverstappen1: we want food [bangs cutlery on imaginary table]
user14: oscar going from being the shy one on the grid to wrangling charles and max is killing me
user15: him and y/n have the grid wrapped around their finger
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yourusername
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tagged: oscarpiastri
yourusername: this is everything you have ever deserved
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user18: i am going to throw myself on the track and let oscar run me over and put me out of my misery
oscarpiastri: i love you so much, couldn't do it without your support
yourusername: NUH UH you're SUPER DUPER AMAZINGLY FAST and i am lucky to be here to witness you :)
oscarpiastri: okay.... but no more passing out in the garage
yourusername: i'm just a girl 🎀
oscarpiastri: my girl x
yourusername: YOUR GIRL (i've seen the tiktok edits BACK OFF)
user19: the way the other team members and teams let them have their moment was so cute
user20: zak brown pushing her to the front to be able to see him on the podium... maybe i don't hate him as much as i thought
user21: her taking ten billion photos while crying her eyes out was so cute
yourusername: they're all blurry 🧍🏻‍♂️
maxverstappen1: i guess you're the only one i'll tolerate outshining my championship win... congrats oscar!
oscarpiastri: thank you max :) also thank you to gp for giving y/n an ice pack
yourusername: gp got his name on a piece of cake
maxverstappen1: what about my cake?
yourusername: i guess i can spare another slice for you
oscarpiastri: we can give you a whole cake tomorrow if you let me win tomorrow?
maxverstappen1: nice try dude
yourusername: you haven't tried it yet
oscarpiastri: it's laced with crack (literally, DQ coming fast)
maxverstappen1: ????
yourusername: we jest
oscarpiastri: or do we?
user22: is gp another person they've collected?
oscarpiastri
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oscarpiastri: no one else i'd rather celebrate with
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user23: they don't know it yet but they're actually my parents
user24: yeah, yeah oscar won a race woo BUT MAMA DROP THE RECIPE FOR THE THIRD SLIDE LOOKS LIKE IT BANGS
yourusername: i'm so unbelievably proud of you oscar, crying in the club right now
oscarpiastri: i didn't know the shower was also called the club (i can hear you crying and though i'm grateful you are this happy for me, it's getting slightly concerning)
yourusername: i just can't contain my excitement for you and it's turned into tears HAPPY TEARS
oscarpiastri: my mum can hear it from her room as well
yourusername: can't believe i'm being shamed like this
landonorris: will you cry this much for my first win
yourusername: nope, actively praying against it
landonorris: WHAT ??? OSCAR STOP HER SHE'S BEEN TOO MEAN THIS TIME
yourusername: i only want oscar to win every race from now until he retires soz buddy
oscarpiastri: idk that sounds like a good deal to me lando
landonorris: @yourusername i hope you drown in your tears
user25: well that escalated
danielricciardo: proud of you baby aussie !!! how can we get some aussie bbq in the paddock as celebration @yourusername 🤭
yourusername: someone get me a grill asap
danielricciardo: okay max it's time to stop being selfish, let oscar win another race so we can get more bbq i'm homesick
maxverstappen1: that's cute and all but FUCK THEM KIDS
yourusername: well no bbq for you then
maxverstappen1: you and oscar love me really
oscarpiastri: ???
user26: the way y/n tussles with these men kills me
user27: at this point get her a microphone and get her on that grid walk
mclarenf1
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tagged: oscarpiastri, landonorris & yourusername
mclarenf1: y/n delivered the pasta party she promised (admin is now in a food coma no more posts for the rest of the day)
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user28: the way we all thought this was a joke... i am now unwell
user29: dead ass the cutest thing i've ever seen
yourusername: thank you for having me besties, thank you for giving oscar a fast car and i hope you all actually make your flights in your pasta-induced naps
mclarenf1: that carbonara has me snoozing up a storm
oscarpiastri: (we nearly missed our flight)
landonorris: worth it, that pasta banged
yourusername: why thank you everyone i am blushing
yourusername: but real talk when does all this pasta translate into team orders in oscar's favour
mclarenf1: i don't think that's in my job description
landonorris: ...
oscarpiastri: well....
yourusername: you're making me look like a bad person 😭 i just want oscar to have the best possible time ever
oscarpiastri: i love you <3
landonorris: ugh... i guess that's cute
user30: i have never been more jealous ever in my life and it's over PASTA
georgerussell63: i am mobilising the GDPA against this. it's either pasta for ALL of us or NONE of us
yourusername: bring back seb you big wet wipe
georgerussell63: EXCUSE YOU!
charles_leclerc: i am an honourary italian and i am quite frankly offended i was not at least offered the left overs
oscarpiastri: but this was my special pasta party for my sprint win :(
georgerussell63: don't try and use that very cute and wholesome excuse with me mister, we have been robbed of pasta
yourusername: you queens are so dramatic i can't
user31: this sport is so unserious, they wouldn't protest over the conditions this weekend but pasta is where they draw the line 😭
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yourusername
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yourusername: if you're at COTA come on down to my bbq station it's mr america (@logansargeant) approved
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user33: miss ma'am is really raising the bar for all wags at this point
user34: who else is doing up masterchef at the track
logansargeant: i can confirm it is very good
yourusername: i knew there was a reason we love you logie bear
logansargeant: the ribs were so good you should honestly get an american passport
user35: guys i went and omg IT WAS SO FUCKING GOOD + y/n was so fucking nice and said all proceeds are going to helping disadvantaged children get into karting
user36: my heart is so full i love them
maxverstappen1: slowing me down by making me have bbq i see how it is
yourusername: no one forced you to eat it buddy
maxverstappen1: well it's steak and mac and cheese ur dumb if you think i'm NOT fucking it up
yourusername: you got me there
danielricciardo: that was scrummy
charles_leclerc: petition for this to be here every week
georgerussell63: this just makes me more angry about missing out on pasta
user37: oscar is so much stronger than me cause if i had y/n i'd be asking for an absolute feast all of the time and would not stick to my meal plan
oscarpiastri: my favourite person doing her favourite thing <3
yourusername: you're my favourite thing
landonorris: keep that to yourself
yourusername: i can't love my bf now?
landonorris: that man is a child keep it PG
oscarpiastri: you made it not PG
yourusername: stop forcing your agenda on us lando
landonorris: i can't win with you people
oscarpiastri
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oscarpiastri: first season done. proud. ready to eat like a king
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user38: i don't think i've ever barked in response to a picture of food
landonorris: where's mineeeeee :((((((((
oscarpiastri: season is over mate. y/n is back to being mine and mine only, we're hibernating in aus
landonorris: selfish
yourusername: let us eat our sushi in peace this off season
user39: oscar ready to keep y/n to himself what a king
oscarpiastri: tired of sharing my gf :( i know she's the bestest ever but still i was getting separation anxiety when she was stolen to make food for george
georgerussell63: no regrets
yourusername: you were always a king, but i'm ready to treat you like royalty
oscarpiastri: right back at you, queen
yourusername: all the food WE want all off season
maxverstappen1: okay guys we can hear you
charles_leclerc: this is no way to talk about your 27 year old children honestly
landonorris: i'm calling childline actually
yourusername: feel free girl, kiss my ass cause you won't see it for months
landonorris: GASP!
oscarpiastri: that's been brewing, stop asking y/n to make you chicken dippers bro
landonorris: :(
yourusername: regardless of all the tomfoolery and the stray cats (drivers) we've picked up, i'm so proud of you oscar - here's to an even better year next year
oscarpiastri: thank you, my love. couldn't do it without you. i love you.
yourusername: i love you too osc
fin.
note: heyyy?? yeah i've kinda gone missing in action. i am working on the last two WIPs but i am so busy and my writers block is so bad i had to revisit an old fave lol. hope yall enjoy !
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shu-porang-porang · 2 months
Text
Who's Needy Now? (sequel)
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♡ You started it, what did you expect?♡ (Read the first part here.)
P.s. Honestly I feel like it's not my cup of tea, but I gave it a go, hope you like it.
Pairs: Lee Minho (Lee Know) / fem!reader
Rating: Explicit
Theme: Smut, 18+ NO MINORS.
Warnings: pure smut, unprotected sex (do not try at home!!), degradation, overstimulation, edging, not proofread
Word count: 1.2 k
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You come back after two hours. He seems exceptionally normal! He even cooked you dinner. No mentions of your little mischief. You have a hunch it’s only the calm before the storm. You’re on edge the whole night, you know he wouldn’t let go of it so easily. You wonder what he has in mind. This calm façade is probably just a part of his plan. He likes to mess with your head like this, the suspense you’re feeling makes it all the more enjoyable for him.
Finally, he tells you to go sit on the bed like a good kitty for him. He takes a seat on a chair at the foot of the bed, leaning back, his legs set apart, his lap looks so inviting but you know better than to do anything you’re not ordered to, so you resist the urge of going over and sitting on his lap. Freaking devil! He knows exactly what he’s doing to you now. You wait on your knees for his next instruction.
“Strip.” He commands firmly, his tone makes you shudder. You start removing your clothes one by one, your eyes never leaving his intense gaze, you wanna put on a brave face, like your stomach isn’t doing summersaults anticipating his next moves.
Once you’re fully naked, his next order is: “Now cum without touching yourself, you have 3 minutes.”
You hope he’s joking but his stern face and the fact that he actually starts the timer on his phone tells you otherwise.
“What the fuck, Min?”
“It’s Sir, you filthy slut! You lost the first name privileges when you walked out of that door. Hurry up, time is running out.”
Your heart is pounding loud in your ears, this side of Minho you don’t get to see much often, but when you do… You lie on your stomach, pressing your hips to the mattress in a circular motion, you discovered this little trick back when you were a teen, and it had helped you reach orgasms but you haven’t done it for so long, you’ve found much more interesting ways to come ever since. You know you’re fighting a losing battle, there’s no way you could cum by just doing this in such a short time, but you decide to give him a good show at least, maybe he’ll pity you later. You raise your hips higher than you need to, just to give him a better view of your oozing cunt, your whimpers are more audible than usual, all in service of satisfying him.
“Please… I can’t… need you Sir” you try to gain his sympathy.
“But you left me to do it on my own. Don’t you think you deserve punishment?”
“I do… but I can’t… need touch”
“Oh I’ll touch you… gonna make you wish I didn’t!” with that warning he gets up and walks over to you, meanwhile the timer goes off. He sits next you on the bed, rolls your body over and cups your soaking pussy.
“Time’s up, now take your punishment like the slut you are.” He starts rubbing your clit with lazy strokes.
“By the way, this time you’re not allowed to cum until I say so.” He presses his finger harder on your clit and circles it faster, all the while looking at your face waiting for it to contort as you near your orgasm. You try to close your legs but he forces them open and lands a slap on your throbbing core. You focus on the pain to stall your climax for a bit. His hand leaves your core to travel up and pinch a pebbled nipple.
“You almost lost it there, needy bitch! It was only the first one, take a hold of yourself.”
What does he mean by “the first one”? How many times is he gonna edge you tonight?
His hand goes back between your thighs, he gathers your slick with his index and middle finger and spreads it on your puffy clit, with each finger resting on either side of it he starts pinching it. This time, the feeling borderlines on pain and pleasure, nonetheless soon enough you’re a moaning mess, trying to suppress another orgasm. You grab his arm, trying to stop him but to no avail, it only makes him angrier.
“Don’t make me tie you up” he growls as he pinches your clit harder. You think you’re a goner this time but right before the orgasm hits you, he stops. Your body is tensed, even a breeze on your clit could make you cum, as much as you wanna cum, you fear the consequences. You just lie there with your eyes closed, waiting for the stolen climax to die down.
You feel him shifting on the bed and open your eyes to see what he’s up to next. He slots himself between your legs. You think he’s done with the games and will finally give you what you need.
“One more time” he says with his face inches away from your core. He slurps at your running juices and you bite your lip from the sensation of his tongue lapping at you. It doesn’t take long before the knot in your stomach tightens again, how could it not with his heavenly mouth sucking you like his life depends on it?
“Please… please please…. Let me come Sir” you beg as your knuckles turn white fisting the sheets. Your pleas fall on deaf ears. You can’t take it anymore. You arch your back and let go, the orgasm washes over your spent body. As soon as he realizes, he stops, you came without his permission, he’s not gonna help you ride it.
“Tsk… what do I do with you? It’s as if you want to be punished!” It’s not like you stood a chance anyway.
Without hesitation, he takes of his pants and boxers, strokes his already hard cock a few times and slams it balls deep inside you with no warning. You almost scream at the sudden stretch. He doesn’t give you any time to adjust and starts pounding into you mercilessly. Tears spill as you squirm from overstimulation. He pins your hands above your head to stop you.
“Stay still you cumdump, that’s all you’re good for since you can’t follow orders.” His words stir something inside you. His hand reaches in between your bodies and stops on your stomach, you look at where it landed and you see the bump forming there with every thrust, the sight makes your head dizzy. You feel another orgasm building up. Your head roles back and he dives down to suck purple bruises on you exposed neck. Hitting all the right spots, he makes you cum around his cock. He lets go of your wrists so you can hold onto him while he keeps chasing his own release, his pace not faltering. Finally, he reaches his orgasm, thrusting his cum deep inside you as he rides it out.
“So? Did you learn your lesson?” he says while pulling out and dropping next to you. His words float around you like you’re dreaming.
“Say it. Say you won’t leave me like that again.”
“I won’t leave you… like that… again.” You mumble not even knowing what you’re agreeing to, your mind and body too spent up to comprehend anything. You just feel him cleaning you with a towel at one point, and the next thing you realize is being wrapped in his arms with sweet kisses peppered on your face.
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itsbuckytm · 3 months
Text
Secret Admirer / Regulus Black
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Summary: Regulus had always harbored a soft spot for a particular member of the Potter family. This individual stood in stark contrast to James, and being a Slytherin only seemed to fuel Regulus's obsession with the sibling who exuded a delicate scent of orchids.
P.S : English isn't my first language, so I apologize for any minor grammar errors. Enjoy!
Regulus had no intention in falling in love. Or was it all in his head? 
God forbid he would need an excuse to glance in your direction or steal a look every now and then. The young man wasn't about to let you slip out of his sight so effortlessly. First, he had to admire every inch of your body, from head to toe. You were now his target, his prey.
He was well aware that this endeavor wouldn't be a simple one, especially considering you were the notorious sibling of James Potter himself.
Understanding your brother's protective nature, being associated with the Potter name wasn't exactly favorable, particularly from an ethical standpoint. Being a Slytherin only intensified matters, as it made you a target for Dark Wizards, much to James' dismay. For Regulus, this meant that even initiating a conversation with you posed a significant challenge.
Regulus remembered the very first time he had met you. Like every love cliché stories, it was during your first day at Hogwarts when your brother had been the light of everyone interest and Regulus had the chance to see your beautiful face exit the train and your hair seemingly blending itself with the wind. It was in that very moment that Regulus knew what falling in love was like. 
Being a Black meant enduring Sirius's teasing at his whim, and with his family's significant legacy, observing his close rapport with the Potters, one might have considered themselves fortunate to easily encounter you during Potions class. You were slightly smaller than your brother, inviting mockery from him and his friends when reaching for higher objects, coupled with a persistent plea until the class's final moments. However, one time, Regulus seized the opportunity to intercept them before you. It was also the moment when both of you heard each other's voices. Your small “Thank you” and the smile you bestowed upon him were enough to stir butterflies in his stomach, followed by inevitable teasing from Sirius later that evening, as it became evident that your brother's attention was on the two of you. 
After the initial encounter between Regulus and you in Potions class, James couldn't help but notice you two’s interactions. To his surprise, he found himself growing increasingly concerned as rumors circulated about Regulus's association with the Death Eaters, and perhaps even darker affiliations. As your brother, naturally, he wanted the best for you, but witnessing the potential dangers of Slytherin influence, it pained him to imagine you being ensnared by such influences. Little did he know, he was mistaken from the outset. 
Regulus was undeniably a good person, a fact known to everyone. Yet, there was something about him that intrigued you even more. You couldn't help but notice from the outset the subtle glances he stole in your direction during class. Your friends occasionally teased about someone showing interest in you, but you couldn't bring yourself to believe it, especially with your brother's constant reminders about keeping your distance from men, especially Slytherins like Regulus. Despite all this, Regulus was keenly aware that you were conscious of his attention towards you.
Despite your efforts to maintain complete innocence regarding your brother's request, you couldn't deny the temptation or the inevitable encounter with Regulus. Which meant, he couldn't resist drawing your full attention to him, resorting to leaving notes in specific places where you frequented. With his signature R.A.B.
As a result, you couldn't help but become somewhat frantic, eager to uncover the identity of your secret admirer. This lead to an interesting investigation between the two of you. 
This though first was brought up during lunch at the Dinning Hall. While he was away in his book, he couldn’t help but to notice and hear clearly his name being whispered from your own mouth. From this very moment, he couldn’t stop but to dream how he had dreamed endless nights to hear your voice linger his name, begging for something you will get in return. How he would hold your hand seemingly, wondering off away from Hogsmeade to deep in the forbidden forest to admire the beautiful beasts you long wanted to discover amidst admitting it during class one time. Something he had not forget and it was these little details Regulus made sure of when the possibility of a real encounter. 
The encounter unfolded within the confines of the Library. As you embarked on your quest to locate a book recommended by your teacher, one that aligned with your fascination for magical beasts, fortune smiled upon you as remnants of the coveted tome remained available. Despite its widespread popularity for research purposes. Your satisfaction was tinged with frustration as the book eluded your grasp, just beyond your reach. Regulus, perhaps guided by destiny, seized the opportunity to intersect your paths. As he reached for the book he sought, a familiar fragrance enveloping him—the scent of fresh orchids that had captivated him since your initial meeting. “Perhaps a little assistance is in order.” He remarked, his voice resonating with familiarity, reminiscent of your encounters in Potion class.
However, on this occasion, instead of flashing your customary smile, your eyes widened in surprise at the unexpected presence of the boy who might be your clandestine paramour. Despite the initial shock, you swiftly pushed aside such thoughts and donned your smile. Yet, your cheeks betrayed a different sentiment, flushing with warmth at the tender touch of his cold yet inviting fingers intertwining with yours. It had been an eternity since you had been in such close proximity to Regulus. Despite your inner turmoil and unspoken desires, you couldn't deny the longing for his company, and the warmth of his attentiveness towards you.
“Thank you…” Your voice, gentle and familiar, whispered to his ear, betraying your unmistakable affection for him. Regulus returned your smile with confidence, yet beneath the facade, a sly smirk danced across his lips as he handed you the book, placing it securely in your grasp. With a casual glance at the title, he feigned surprise, though inwardly he had anticipated your newfound research interest. “A fan of magical beasts as well?” He inquired, his tone softened, a deliberate effort to win the approval of your brother, something he knew he must secure to further his intentions.
“Yes.” You affirmed, though the realization of once again finding yourselves drawn together in such close quarters was a surprise even to you. Despite the shared space, your presence seemed merely a distraction to him, your brother's attention firmly fixed on Lily Evans. Nonetheless, Regulus seized every chance to revel in the pleasure of your company, carving out moments for just the two of you. The burgeoning attraction between you was becoming increasingly apparent. “Looks like we always meet in times when I am deed.” You confessed, acknowledging the truth of your words, yet Regulus finding this statement to be nearly impossible to resist the allure of such intense desire, passion. And intimacy with a man who embodied all these qualities. 
As tempted as you were to acknowledge those thoughts, and even to acknowledge Regulus's correctness, you merely shrugged with feigned innocence. It was a quality that had captivated Regulus from the moment he first laid eyes on you. He longed to possess you entirely, to the extent that he would endure your brother's fury or the sight of the Potter girl tangled in Slytherin affairs. Regardless, his sole focus was to ensure that you belonged to him and him alone. 
And much to his liking, James being in the same room just a few tables from afar your study had take knowledge of Regulus’s presence. How his thumb would be casually caressing your chin and lifting up slightly to have a the opportunity to feel his lips against yours. Just this once, and perhaps even more. 
“You know…” His voice deepened, his warm breath grazing against your skin. In that moment, you realized you had been momentarily blinded by his actions, yet a stirring within you suggested that perhaps, like him, you were in love. In love with a man who sought justice and, undoubtedly, someone to cherish—a person with whom he could find solace and belonging. Regardless of your brother's approval, he remained unconcerned. “A little bird informed me that you've been receiving letters from a secret admirer. I couldn't help but be curious about their identity.” He confessed, his tone betraying a mix of intrigue and oblivious.
His voice, smooth as butter, dripped with both passion and curiosity, eager to uncover whether you knew the identity behind the mysterious letters. Despite harboring your own suspicions, you simply shrugged, a casual yet teasing smile playing on your lips. As he reciprocated with a gentle touch, his thumb grazing your chin, you sensed the tension radiating from your brother, torn between throwing a punch or holding back. Simultaneously, you were aware of your brother's intense gaze fixed upon you, even though your back was turned to him. In that moment, it was clear that he faced a choice: intervene or allow Regulus to kiss you.
“Don't,” Sirius mouthed the words silently, fully aware of Regulus's capabilities. If there was one thing he couldn't deny about his family’s qualities, it was the sincerity of Regulus’s feelings and intentions, especially when it came to the person he loved. Despite the complex dynamics between the Blacks and the Potters, whether as friends or foes, James couldn't bear to witness his sibling's sadness and envy once more. And so, with a resigned sigh, he chose to let it be. “Fine, but if he dares to break her heart. I won’t hesitate.”
As Regulus observed your eyes flickering from his gaze to his lips, he sensed a spark igniting between you. The way he spoke to you, the words conveyed on paper—it all pointed to one undeniable truth: your secret lover was none other than Regulus himself. A delicate smile accompanied by a soft chuckle escaped your lips, leaving Regulus slightly bewildered, prompting him to tilt his head in curiosity. “Though I may want to play the part of the suspicious and oblivious recipient of secret admirer letters, I believe I've unraveled the mystery.” You confessed with a hint of amusement.
Your confession alone was convincing, but it was Regulus's sigh that truly affirmed the man standing before you. He was undeniably your secret lover, unafraid to show his affection openly, even in the presence of your own brother. Regardless of family legacy or expectations, he cared not. As he drew near, the library eerily empty, his eyes never straying from yours, you felt the gentle brush of his lips before they melded into a long-awaited kiss—a kiss you both had yearned for, dreamed of, and finally shared.
Before you could even catch your breath, your fingers tenderly cupped his face, softly stroking his cheeks as he savored every moment of affection, his eyelids drifting shut. Then, your voice, sweet and longing, broke the silence. “Kiss me. Forever.”
Without hesitation, Regulus complied, pressing his lips to yours once again, unwilling to pull away until he sensed your brother's disdainful gaze. From that day forward, you became Regulus's other half, bound together by love and defiance.
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