#He might not be alone and someone knows what he is going through first hand | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lucygxybaird · 3 days ago

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billy x reader - time traveler billy

Everything happens so quickly that you don’t have time — at first — to realize how odd the situation is. The man’s clothes make him look like a refugee from a Western, and everything about him, from the curl of his hair to the way he stands marks him out as someone…different, somehow. Not to mention, of course, that he’s standing in the middle of the street, looking about as out of place and freaked out as a squirrel dropped into the middle of the ocean.

But even if you could put your finger on it, you don’t have the time to consider what makes him so strange.

First, you’ll have to get him out of the path of the oncoming car.

You have, in point of fact, never actually tackled someone before, let alone someone who seems to be quite a bit taller than you and undoubtedly heavier. But you take your best shot, leaning in and diving at his waist, hoping to make him fold like a lawn chair. Maybe it’s just the shock, or maybe you actually find the right angle — you have no idea, but it doesn’t really matter. You manage to knock the guy sideways, both of you stumbling toward the safety of the sidewalk as the car screeches past, the driver laying on his horn.

You watch as the guy flinches at the noise, actually clapping his hands over his ears as he squeezes his eyes shut, like he’s praying with all his might that the noise will just stop. Fortunately for him, the car turns the corner up ahead, and the sound of the horn fades as it goes. You watch it go, wondering absently how long Speed Racer is going to keep honking, and then you look back at the guy whose life you’ve saved.

“Are you okay?” It’s probably a stupid question, considering what little information you already have, but you don’t know what else to say. The guy lowers his hands and squints at you, staring as if you’re the one dressed like an extra from The Good, The Bad and The Ugly. “Hey — are you alright?”

He shakes his head, more like he’s trying to chase away a bothersome gnat than answering you.

You’re starting to worry that he’s hit his head, although you can’t see a cut or a bruise on his temple. Now that you’re looking at him properly, it’s really rather difficult to keep from noticing how…well, how hot he is. It’s probably — definitely — inappropriate to even think about it, you’re well aware, considering he’s either injured, intoxicated in some way, or just going through it, but you can’t ignore the fact now that it’s quite literally staring you in the face.

His eyes are large and blue, framed by thick, dark lashes as long as your pinky finger, set above a strong, straight nose that reminds you of a Greek statue, as perfectly sculpted as if it’s been made from marble. His lips are astonishingly full, his jawline and cheekbones each as defined as the dictionary, and you think there just might be the shadow of a dimple in his chin. And he’s tall, too, topping you by nearly a foot, his broad shoulders tapering to an angular waist. You realize, belatedly, that you’re staring, but then again, so is he.

“Are you okay?” you say again. “Is there something I can do for you? Someone I can call?”

He swallows, giving another shake of his head. “I don’t…I dunno where I am.”

It’s the first time you’ve heard him speak, and his voice brings to mind sage brush and sunsets, the smoke that swirls over a campfire as it crackles with life, warm and husky, with a twang that makes you think of the bite of whiskey.

“Okay,” you say, and without thinking about it, you take his hand. It feels natural, like trying to guide a lost child, or trying to make sure you don’t lose him in a crowd. As soon as his palm touches yours, you feel a shock race up your arm, and you have the strangest sensation of a door closing, separating one moment from the next as definitively as an axe splitting wood.

His fingers curl around yours, his expression almost pleading.

“Okay,” you repeat. “Okay. Just…come with me. I’ll help you.”

You can tell, if not just by the expression on his face — half-hopeful, half-bracing, as if he’s expecting a blow to fall any second — that he’s not used to asking for help, especially not from strangers. It makes your heart hurt just a little bit. You give his hand a gentle squeeze, and you’re softened — or maybe melted — by the way he smiles at you, shy but appearing more heartened than he did just a moment ago.

Then another car whizzes by, and he winces like someone has taken a shot at him. He ducks down, his eyes so wide that they look like a pair of full moons, their cornflower centers the only source of color in his face. “The hell is that?”

You stare at him. If he didn’t look so terrified, you’d think he was joking. But if he’s not joking, then he’s either on an incredible cocktail of drugs, or he’s from that weird isolated cult town in The Village. “It’s…it’s a car,” you say.

“A car,” he repeats, as if you’ve just told him the secret to life in Mandarin.

“Yeah,” you say. “You know…a horseless carriage.”

For some reason, this seems to impart some understanding to him, but you can tell he’s still plenty freaked out. “Carriages don’t go that fuckin’ fast!”

You try very, very hard not to laugh, but god, it’s hard. You’re having to draw on nearly every ounce of compassion you have. It helps that, really, he’s not wrong. Not that you’ve ever ridden in a carriage, because you’re not Keira Knightley in a period film, but you don’t think they’re capable of speeds like that.

“If it makes you feel any better,” you say, “you don’t have to worry about getting into a horseless carriage with me. I hate driving.”

Now that it’s just the two of you standing on the sidewalk again, the road mercifully free of cars, he seems to relax a little, at least enough to consider your words. “Well,” he says. “That’s something.”

Not entirely sure where to go, you decide the police station is as good a place as any. It might be a little Hallmark movie of the week, but maybe someone has already filed a missing persons report on him. With that thought, it occurs to you that you need some information first.

“Do you remember your name?” you ask.

The look he gives you indicates he has never been quite so offended in his life. You can’t help but laugh this time. “Well, I don’t know!” you say. “You don’t know where you are, you’re walking around here looking like a puppy at the start of an ASPCA ad — maybe you’re suffering from some kind of amnesia.”

He doesn’t look any less nonplussed, but something about your laughter has loosened the muscles in his face. He smiles at you. You try to ignore the way your stomach flips to focus on his answer. “Billy,” he says.

You fight the urge to repeat his name, rolling it around in your mouth like candy. “Come on,” you say, his hand still in yours. “We’re not gonna get anywhere just standing here. Do you trust me?”

He smiles again, though this time with a bit of a razor’s edge to it. “Not like I got much choice, honey,” he says, and then pauses, softens. “Yeah. You’ve been nicer to me than most people would’ve, findin’ a stranger in the middle of nowhere, actin’ like he’s been dropped on his head. I wouldn’t have blamed ya if you’d run the other direction.”

You have no idea why, but what springs from your mouth before you can help yourself is: “I couldn’t do that to you.”

He studies you for a minute. His gaze feels as physical as a caress, and just as intimate. If not more so. You both do and don’t want it to stop.

“Come on,” you say again, at least in part to break the silence. “Follow me.”

The two of you start walking, following the weathered gray slabs of cracked, uneven concrete that your small town calls a sidewalk as it winds its way into town.

After a few moments of quiet, he says, “You never told me your name.”

When you introduce yourself, he smiles again. “That’s nice,” he says. “Pretty.”

Your stomach flips again, and you have to remind yourself that you don’t know anything about this guy, except — only just now — his name. The fact that he’s tall, gorgeous, and really does give off a hurt puppy sort of vibe doesn’t matter. And it definitely doesn’t matter that his smile spreads across his face like a sunrise coloring the sky with ribbons of pastels. He could be a serial killer, or if not that extreme, some kind of —

The two of you are still, for reasons not entirely clear to you and probably not much clearer to him, holding hands, so you’re jerked out of your thoughts by the fact that he’s gone stock still.

“You’re takin’ me to the sheriff?”

If the dread clinging to his voice like a weed choking out a weaker plant wasn’t bad enough, he’s frozen still on the sidewalk, looking at you as if you’ve…well, as if you’ve betrayed him somehow. The pit of your stomach turns to ice.

“The sheriff?” you repeat. You feel oddly, stupidly, disappointed. A guy with nothing to hide doesn’t act like this when someone brings him to the authorities. The disillusionment washing over you makes your tongue sharp. “Who the hell are you, Barney Fife?”

He frowns. “I told you my name.”

“Yeah, I — never mind.” You shake your head and let go of his hand. The bare skin of your palm feels oddly cold. “What’s the matter? I thought someone might be looking for you. Maybe someone filed a missing persons report.”

“I don’t think so, darlin’.” He glances at the police station again, his throat bobbing. A pause, and then, softly, like he’s making a confession: “Nobody left that cares about me that much. Unless they wanna cause me some hurt.”

You feel the strangest mixture of sympathetic and prickly, as if you’ve been caught doing something wrong by someone who has been directly and seriously hurt by your actions. “Well…” You clear your throat, trying to find the right words to defend yourself. “I mean, listen, what kind of hurt? Are you a criminal or something?”

One corner of his mouth tilts up in a bitter approximation of a grin. “Or somethin’, honey,” he says. “I got a reputation I never wanted and that I’m not proud of, an’ not one person reads about me in the paper or sees my name on a wanted poster—”

Wanted poster? But something about his fierce, stung expression keeps your mouth shut.

“ — ever gave a damn about the truth. About why I did all that stuff. I didn’t want to!” When his voice rises, equal parts angry and hurt, you can’t help yourself. You reach for his hand again. He takes a deep breath, his fingers grasping yours. “I didn’t want to do any of it. I just wanted…I wanted things to get better. Every time I thought they would, they just got worse.”

You know it would make sense to ask what he actually did, but somehow, you can’t bring yourself to put the words out there. He looks ashamed and angry, but defiant, too, as if daring you to do it. Or, worse, to pass judgement. But you just press your lips together.

“I wanted to go straight,” he says. “I wanted a good job for a respectable boss, so I could keep a roof over my head and food in my belly. Damn it, I just wanted some peace—”

When his voice breaks, you feel it in your chest, as if a fissure has opened up in your collarbone. Your own eyes burn, a reaction as instantaneous and out of your control as a burning red welt raising up around a bee’s stinger. It hurts you, to see him hurt, and you can’t even begin to explain to yourself why that is.

“Well, I…I…” You fumble your words, not even sure what you’re going to say. But you know you have to say something. “I…okay, so, we’ll…we’ll go somewhere else. We’ll figure it out.”

He looks about as shocked to hear you say that as he was by the car burning rubber on the road leading into town. “You mean it?”

You swallow down the stupid feeling that you’re going to cry, and you nod. “Yeah, come on,” you say, and you hold out your hand again. He takes it. “We’ll go back to my place.”

He offers you another crooked smile, but this one is more surprised, almost tender, like you’ve shown him something sweet and unexpected hidden in the palm of your hand. “You sure about that, sweetheart?” he says. “You don’t know me all that well. I’d understand if you didn’t want a strange man in your home.”

Forget not knowing him that well, you don’t really know him at all, but you just tell him, “I’m sure.”

Because you are. In what seems to be the theme of the day, you can’t explain why, but it just feels…safe. Despite the little Dateline-themed voice in your head telling you otherwise, you can’t ignore the certainty, heavy and inexplicable, that you’ve been here before. He’ll step into your apartment and feel at ease, because this isn’t the first time he’s been your home. It will fit like an old coat, comfortable and soft and easy.

It’s insane, but you can’t turn your thoughts away from it.

His fingers lace with yours, and he rubs his thumb over your knuckle. The way he’s looking at you, so intently, his gaze never wavering from yours, makes you feel as though you’re being turned inside out, exposed. The moment when he froze with fear as the two of you approached the police — sheriff — station seems distant in both time and space, like you’ve gone forward many miles and many years in time in the space of just a few minutes.

“No cars, right?” he says, his crooked smile widening. The word cars sits in his mouth like he isn’t quite used to the shape of it, but you’re so charmed by the fact that he’s trying to make a joke. That the two of you have a joke to share.

“No cars,” you say.

You’re walking again. Now and again you pass other people, who look at Billy the way you must have looked at him when you first saw him — eyebrows furrowed, pushing down over their eyes, glance flicking over him as if a quick look will make any more sense than a lingering one. Billy doesn’t seem to notice, or if he does, he doesn’t seem to care. He’s too busy looking around at everything else; it all seems to shock him to varying degrees, whether it’s the buildings around you, the streetlights and the power lines silhouetted against the sky, the concrete beneath your feet and the asphalt of the road running beside you.

As another car zooms by, Billy lets go of your hand, dosey-do’s behind you, and takes your other hand. Now he’s standing between you and the road. “I don’t like those things,” he mutters, more to himself than to you. “But I like you near ‘em even less.”

Your apartment building is a brick rectangle studded with windows, a pair of double doors set in the middle at the top of a wide set of concrete steps. You lead Billy inside and he stops as you reach for the elevator button.

“What the hell?” he says, again speaking under his breath.

You push the button, watching Billy’s face as the call button lights up. He flinches at the ding, looking around for the source of the noise; you squeeze his hand gently. You wonder again where the hell he came from, that every piece of modern technology seems to make as little sense to him as ancient Egyptian hieroglyphics. “It’s okay,” you say. “Just trust me.”

Implicit in your voice is this: I won’t let anything happen to you.

He seems to hear your silent promise, or maybe the words you actually say are enough. Billy smiles thinly and nods.

When the doors slide open, though, he balks. “Are we supposed to go in there?”

“Yes. It’ll take us up to the floor my apartment is on, without us having to go up all those stairs.”

He swallows. “Okay.”

You step into the elevator and he trails after you with the air of a child who is expecting a switching out back. When the elevator starts to rise upward, Billy stares at you incredulously. “It’s okay,” you say again. “It won’t take long, I promise.”

He has a white-knuckle grip on your hand, and he jumps a little at the ding from somewhere above your heads as the elevator comes to a stop. When the doors slide open, he relaxes a little. “That’s all?”

“That’s all,” you confirm, and you lead him down the hallway. He waits while you fish your keys out and let yourselves inside your apartment.

As soon as the door closes behind you, Billy’s shoulders soften. You watch him as he looks around, feeling oddly nervous. As if it matters whether or not he likes your place.

Your building is old — you think from the 1920s or thereabouts, if you remember what your landlord said when she showed you the place five years ago — and it shows in the way it looks. Wooden parquet floors the color of honey are softened by rugs that you found at a flea market, a brown velvet couch slouching in front of a square, red-brick fireplace, framed by a mantle scattered with knickknacks. Billy smiles as he wanders over, picking up a little statuette shaped like a cat, wearing a collar of flat chips of glass.

“Cute,” he says, offering you another smile, and you feel inordinately pleased.

His gaze roams around the living room. To his left, a doorway hung with a beaded curtain leads into the kitchen, and in front of him, a hallway runs to the back of the apartment, with your bedroom on one side and a bathroom on the other. His gaze turns back to the mantle, lifting to the wall above it, where a flatscreen TV is fixed.

“What is that?” he says, leaning forward to inspect this dim reflection in the screen. “A mirror?”

Despite yourself, a snort works its way out of your mouth, and he shoots you a wounded look. “Sorry,” you say, putting your hand over your mouth. “Sorry. No, it’s my TV.”

You have another, smaller one in your room, but you decide one television might be enough for him to deal with right now.

“A — a T…V?” he says, repeating the two letters distinctly, as if they have nothing to do with each other. “What’s that?”

Your lips part, and you stare at him for a second. “Billy,” you say. “Where are you from?”

His brow furrows, like he doesn’t quite understand what you’re asking. “Well,” he says slowly. “Most recently I’ve been livin’ in New Mexico. Why?”

New Mexico. That really doesn’t answer your question. “Where in New Mexico?”

His puzzled frown deepens, but he doesn’t ask why you’re pressing him. Maybe he figures you deserve to know, after saving his life and bringing him back to your apartment. “Lincoln, right now,” he says.

You don’t know much about Lincoln — or New Mexico, for that matter — but you don’t think it’s some reclusive community where they wouldn’t know about elevators or cars.

The next question you have is crazy, totally insane, really — but you think you’ve seen doctors on TV ask concussion victims the same thing. And that’s definitely all it is. Because there’s no way this could actually be the problem.

“Billy,” you say again. “What year is it?”

Now it’s his turn to huff out a laugh through his nose. “What year is it? It’s 1881.”

You’re so floored by this statement that you blurt out, without much — or any — tact: “No, it’s not.”

He looks like he’s on the verge of arguing with you, but maybe everything hits him all at once. The cars, the technology he doesn’t understand, the very world around him that looks so different from what he’s used to. “What…what year is it, then?”

You blink. “2024,” you say.

This time, when he laughs, there’s no humor in it, only a sharp incredulity. “You’re crazy,” he says, but without much heat. It’s almost like a plea, as though he’s offering you the opportunity to take it back. To say something that actually makes sense, because — and you have to give it to him, he’s not wrong — this doesn’t make sense at all.

And yet, unless he’s been severely brainwashes or he’s just putting you on, it’s also the only option.

“How did I get here?” he says, and he sounds — and looks — like he might cry again. “What do I do now?”

“I don’t know,” you say. Then you reach for him, and even before your hands find his face, he’s moving closer to you. He holds onto your waist, like you’re a lifeline. “I don’t know. I don’t know how you got here, or why, but you’re not alone, okay? You have me.”

It doesn’t even register with you at first that this is an incredibly strange, if not downright dangerous, thing to say to someone you met not even two hours ago. Especially considering you’re saying it to a man who is bigger and undoubtedly stronger than you. But you don’t feel like you’re putting yourself at risk.

Billy, though, says what you’re thinking, except he says it with a sense of wonder. It almost sounds like a prayer. “I don’t even know you,” he murmurs.

Yes, you do.

The thought seems to come from outside of you, as if someone has turned to a fresh page in your mind and written it there in their own hand.

Billy says your name, still in that awestruck voice. It feels as though there is a web spun between you, gossamer-fine but indissoluble. The fact that he could be an honest-to-god time traveler makes more sense to you than the idea that you only met him today.

“1881,” you repeat, and he chuckles.

“2024,” he returns.

“How old are you?”

“Twenty-two.”

“Oh,” you say, relieved. Although technically if he’s twenty-two and from the year 1881, that means he’s around 165 years old, but who’s counting? “Me too.”

He smiles, an uptick of the corner of his mouth that nonetheless makes your heart skip in your chest. You decide that you want his hands on you, always, his gaze on you, always, but then you remember something else you have to show him.

“Come here,” you say, taking his hand again. You lead him down the hallway to the bathroom, the sight of which earns you another look at his stunned, disbelieving face. “Okay. This is my bathroom.” You point. “That’s a toilet.” You try to remember when toilets were invented. “It’s like…an outhouse. But inside.”

Billy snorts. “I know what a toilet is.”

You hum. There’s that, at least. “This is definitely new,” you say, and you point to the shower. He nods. You have one of those with a glass door, which you — a little embarrassingly, now — have declared with decals of cartoon sea creatures, including a whale, a puffer fish, and a little scuba diver. “Right. This a shower.”

You push the door open, reaching inside and turning the knob so the water comes pouring out. Billy jumps at the sudden noise and stares as steam fill the room. “It’s hot?” he says uncertainly.

“It can be,” you say. “If you twist this knob here, it can get cooler, though. But it won’t hurt you.”

“What do you do?” he says, peering at the shower. “It’s for bathin’?”

You nod. “You just…” You blush and gesture vaguely at his clothes, before gesturing equally vaguely to the floor. “And step in. There’s soap and shampoo for your hair.”

He smiles crookedly. “Are you tryin’ to tell me I don’t smell like roses, honey?”

You laugh a little. “I mean, well…”

He grins again before looking resolutely at the shower. “Okay,” he says. “I’ll try.”

You give him privacy, shutting the door behind you, though you hover nervously in the hallway in case he needs you. You’re worried about him slipping and falling, so you have to resist the temptation to press your ear against the door. Finally, you hear the water shut off — you’re proud of him for figuring out how to do that, without dousing himself in ice water or boiling himself alive — and you realize, just then, that you have to get him fresh clothes.

“Hold on!” you call through the door.

You hurry into your room and find an old college t-shirt that you “borrowed” from your dad, along with a pair of pajama bottoms that are advertised as unisex but absolutely swim on you at the cuffs, so you hope they’re long enough for him. You knock on the bathroom door, and when it opens a crack, you hold out the clothes while carefully turning your head away. “Here,” you say. “These should fit.”

“Thank you,” he says, voice muffled by the door, and then he takes the clothes and the door shuts again.

You perch on the couch in the living room, waiting for him. The bathroom door opens fully, releasing a cloud of fragrant steam, and you smile encouragingly as you see Billy standing in the doorway. The pants do indeed fit, although the t-shirt hangs on him a little.

“What did you think?” you ask. “Of your first shower experience?”

Billy chuckles, coming to sit next to you on the couch. You’re so aware of his proximity that it makes the air between you sing. There’s something about the sight of him, freshly showered and smiling, seemingly more relaxed now, that makes you want to lean into him.

“It was nice,” he says. “Warm.”

You’ve lost count of how many times today that it’s happened, but once again, he takes your hand.

“Thank you for takin’ care of me,” he says softly. “You’re a sweet girl. I’m glad I met you.”

Coming from anyone else, being called a sweet girl would make you feel like a toy poodle. But coming from Billy, in his warm, molasses-slow drawl, it just makes you feel warm, like you’re bathing in sunshine.

“I’m glad, too,” you murmur.

It would be crazy to kiss him right now, right? You know the answer is yes. You know that. Still, ever since the moment his voice broke outside the police station, you’ve felt…protective over him. More than that, you’ve felt connected. It’s as if seeing him break down, even if it was only for a moment, in turn broke down something between the two of you.

You remember that sensation when you first took his hand, as if a door had slammed solidly shut between this moment and the rest of your life, and you think maybe there wasn’t so much of a barrier up in the first place.

Billy touches your cheek with the very pads of his fingertips, as if he’s afraid that you’re a bubble that will burst from rough contact. “What the hell?” he says softly, and you laugh, because you know it’s not really a question you’re supposed to answer. “We just met today?”

You nod.

“And some way or another, I’ve traveled…” A pause while he does the math. “140-odd years in the future?”

You nod again.

“Alright, then,” he says mildly, and he kisses you.

It feels like the world turns inside out from a point centered around the two of you, spiraling and twisting outward until it forms again, entirely new, bigger and grander, humming and buzzing like a live-wire. Your hands grasping his shoulders feel like the only reason you aren’t just floating away, and the way he grips your waist makes you think he feels the same. You press closer to him, his arms encircling you as he pulls you onto his lap.

A hoarse chuckle comes from somewhere around the fireplace. “You kids usually take longer than this.”

You jump out of your skin, and before you can blink, you find yourself sprawled on the couch cushions, Billy on his feet in front of you. One hand goes to his belt only to grasp at the air. He scowls and brandishes his fists instead, and then—

“Old Moss?”

You sit up. “You know this guy?”

An old man has his elbow propped on the mantelpiece, a tattered hat perched on his head. He’s shorter than Billy, stockier, but their clothes are much the same, along with the weathered tan on their faces. The old man, though, has a beard covering the lower half of his face, spilling over his chest like dirty cotton.

“I…” Billy shakes his head, seemingly just as flummoxed — if not more — than he was before. “I knew him when I was a kid. He helped my family cross the country.”

The old man — Old Moss — chuckles. “I’m not Old Moss, son,” he says. “I took on this form to make you more comfortable. Otherwise you would have tried to wallop me, I bet, and that wouldn’t have been good for you.”

Billy stiffens, and he puts one arm behind him, to keep you behind him on the couch. “Who the hell are you, then?”

Old Moss (you don’t know what else to call him) shrugs. “A representative of the universe,” he says, waving his hand to underscore this grand sentiment. “My speciality is helpin’ lovers find each other in every lifetime.”

A shiver dances down your spine. “Every lifetime?” you murmur.

“Oh, sure,” Old Moss says. “You two have found each other in every life since your souls first came into being.” He smiles crookedly. “Thanks to me. You’re welcome.”

Another grin creases his face. “This time, I thought I’d try things a little bit differently,” he says, shrugging. “I’ve never pulled one soul from a different point in time before. I wasn’t sure if it would work, to be honest with you.”

He grins again. “Judgin’ by the way you were treatin’ her face like an ice cream cone, though, I’m guessing it did.”

Despite yourself, you giggle.

Out of the corner of his mouth, slanting a glance at you, Billy murmurs, “What’s a—?”

“I’ll get you one later. You’ll like it,” you assure him, and now you do stand next to him, patting him gently on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, though, you kiss better than that.”

Old Moss chuckles. “You guys got any questions before I go?”

You think for a second. “How many lives has it been?”

“Mmm…” The old man tugs on his beard thoughtfully. “I’d say this is your…I dunno, I lost track. Somewhere around 200, I think, maybe a little north of that.”

Your hand creeps into Billy’s, and he squeezes gently.

“And we loved each other in all of them?” you say.

Old Moss’s expression is almost unbearably kind. He nods. “All of them,” he says.

Billy’s shoulder presses against yours, and you feel the contact from the top of your head to the soles of your feet. Somehow, over 200 lifetimes of loving him doesn’t seem like a surprise.

“An’ I…I get to stay here with her?” Billy says now. “I don’t gotta go back there?”

Buried in the snowy tangles of his beard, Old Moss’s mouth twitches. You can’t tell if it’s a smile, or if he’s trying to swallow tears. “Yeah, son,” he says. “You get to stay.”

Billy’s hand tightens around yours, as if he’s worried — despite Old Moss’s confirmation — that someone is going to take him away from you. You grip his hand tighter in turn. Like you’re going to let that happen.

You look over at Billy, and he turns his head to meet your gaze. You can see every one of those lifetimes in his eyes, caught in his gaze like snowflakes on his lashes, and you hope there’s going hundreds more, going on until the world itself ends. Nothing else will be enough.

By the time you can turn your eyes away from him, Old Moss is gone. You look over at Billy again, and he grins at you. “I guess representatives of the universe favor Irish goodbyes.”

You grin back at him, winding your arms around his neck. “It seems like I’m stuck with you now,” you say, and he chuckles.

“Seems so.”

He leans down to kiss you. The world turns inside out and spirals again — and again — and again — and…by the time it’s settled again, and Billy breaks the kiss, you think that you’d be happy if you spent this lifetime and each one to come just doing this.

“So…” Billy smiles crookedly. “About that ice cream cone?”

You laugh. There’s a thousand things to set him up with — how the hell does somebody get a Social Security number at twenty-something years old? — but you can figure that out later.

For now —

“Let’s take you to get one,” you say. “And I’ll introduce you to the unbeatable combination of gummy bears and ice cream.”

“What are—?”

You laugh, taking his hand and rising onto your toes to peck his cheek. “Just trust me. You’ll love it.”

#billy the kid 2022 #billy the kid x reader #billy the kid fan fiction #william h bonney fanfiction #tom blyth

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suroweczka · 18 hours ago

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Love Potion (reader x Zoro)

Summary: You and Zoro share a quiet night out drinking, both secretly harbouring feelings for each other. That’s until you order a cocktail with a striking name, claiming to make people speak up about their feelings…

female reader in mind

I think it’s a fluff or something (??) Nothing not really explicit anyway. Might write a smut continuation in 50 years though because why not 😌💅🏻✨

🍸🍹It was supposed to be just a night out as friends.

Everyone on the ship could see there was something more between you, but neither of you would admit that. Especially not Zoro — he could barely handle his feelings, let alone actually speak them out loud.

You picked up the menu, flipping through it casually until a certain drink caught your eye: Love Potion. The description boasted about making people spill their true feelings, claiming the cocktail had some "special" effect.

You snorted and nudged Zoro with your elbow. “Look at this,” you laughed. “A drink that makes you confess your feelings.”

Zoro’s expression twisted in amusement. “What a load of crap” he chuckled. “Any alcohol does that… If you’re a loser who doesn’t know how to drink. Which is clearly not me” He folded his arms, with a cocky smile on his face. “Oh, that’s indeed an achievement” you giggled.

“I’m tough. I don’t need to get wasted to talk about how I feel.”

You smiled at him. “They do look nice though, I think I will give it a go, would you like one too?”

“I don’t mind as long as it’s alcohol” he shrugged, leaning back with that confident, careless ease of his. That was classic Zoro; he would drink anything if it had a good kick. So, you ordered the so-called Love Potion, more as a joke than anything else.

When the drinks arrived, you took a cautious sip, but Zoro, in typical fashion, downed his in one go.

“You didn’t mention it would be sweet” Zoro gave you a grimace of disgust.

“It’s called a Love Potion, what did you expect?” You laughed, shaking your head.

As you were slowly sipping on your drink, you felt a subtle warmth start to spread through you, though Zoro’s reaction was even more surprising.

“Hey, (Y/N)…” He reached over, a strange glint in his eye as he locked onto you. “Did I ever tell you how pretty you are?”

You blinked, taken aback. “What? No, you haven’t…”

“I mean it,” he continued, his voice was clear. “When I first met you, it was your strength. You never backed down. Always threw yourself into the fight with no fear. Then I… started to notice other things.”

He leaned closer, his eyes wandering over your face and then down your body. “Like how hot you are” he murmured, his voice rough, almost reverent.

You blinked, caught off guard. “Where’s that coming from?”

“Just saying the truth, that’s all” he replied with a smirk.

But he wasn’t done. His hands, usually so steady with his swords, rested on your shoulders, and he was suddenly right there, his lips grazing your neck in a way that made your whole body shiver. His breath was warm, his mouth soft yet unrelenting, as he kissed down the side of your neck.

"Strong and pretty, what’s more to wish for?" he whispered to your ear, giving you chills. His hand brushing along your arm in a way that sent sparks through you. "Your courage… it’s one of the first things I noticed. But it’s more than that now" His voice grew husky. “I’d never been interested in any woman that way before.”

Your heart pounded, and the warmth from the drink seemed to blend with the heat of his words. Emboldened, you took a longer sip from your own glass, feeling that strange drink work its way through you until it gave you the courage to admit something you'd kept hidden for so long.

“When you took Luffy’s pain,” you began softly, “when you stood there after fighting Kuma without saying a word. I realised how far you’d go for Luffy, for all of us. I was in awe of your loyalty, strength… I was in awe of you, Zoro. I wanted to be someone who could stand by your side… and, I think I fell for you then.” Your words hung in the air, your face flushing with a mixture of nerves and adrenaline.

As you finished your drink, you reached out, pressing a hand to his chest. “And, I mean… have you looked at yourself?” you whispered, your voice carrying a flirtatious edge as you let your fingers slide along his defined muscles. “How could I not be into you?”

And without another word, he took your hand, pulling you toward the exit.

You never thought a drink could change everything—but in that moment, as you both tumbled onto his bed, you knew you wouldn’t be turning back.

And neither would he.

#roronoa zoro #one piece zoro #zoro x reader #one piece fanfiction #fluff

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supernotnatural2005 · 10 hours ago

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The Meet Cute

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Summary: 99% of the time drinking leads to nothing but bad decisions and regret in the morning. But, what about the other 1% of the time?

Word count: 1786

Prompt: 'Hugged the wrong person from behind'

AN: Hey guys this is my first submission for @jacklesversebingo 2024 Bingo card. It is my first time doing one of these and I'm super excited to see what my brain comes up with! It's a challenge for sure but I hope you guys can enjoy the ride with me.

Main Masterlist

Bingo Masterlist

You winced a little at the burn of the whisky sliding down your throat. It was very much welcomed though, and so were the other two shots you’d done just before.

Not only was it your sister's wedding, but you were her maid of honour and wedding planner. In her defence, it was your profession, so planning and weddings were two things you did well. But the added pressure of it being your baby sister's day and wanting it to be perfect had given you little room to breathe.

Though, once the initial ceremony had ended and you made sure all the guests had arrived and settled in at the afterparty, you finally took a moment to take that breath, aided by the sweet nectar of alcohol. In hindsight, it probably wasn’t your best idea to drink such a strong beverage on an empty stomach, as it wasn’t long until its side effects commandeered your body, mind, and actions.

As you looked around at everyone enjoying themselves on the dance floor, your sister included, it brought a sense of relief and warmth knowing you made her day special. However, there was one face missing, and that was the face of your best friend, Matty. You’d been busy up to your eyeballs all day with arrangements, making sure people arrived on time and showing them where to go; you hadn’t even been able to see him yet, let alone say hello.

You knew his flight this morning was delayed, so he had to miss the ceremony, but he was on schedule to make the party at least. Though even your sister or family hadn’t seen him. The last text he sent was to tell you that he’d landed, and that was nearing 2 hours ago. You deflated at the thought that he might miss this too. Matty was always the life of the party, ever since you’d met him your freshman year of college. Although you didn’t see each other as often as you’d liked, living in different cities and leading busy lives and all, you were always guaranteed a great time when he was around.

However, as you finished your fourth shot, it was then you spotted someone at the other end of the bar. You had to squint a little through your gradually blurring vision, but you were certain it was him. He had his back to you, and he looked a little more built than when you last saw him, but he was already chatting away to some ridiculously handsome, tall guy you didn’t recognise; who was exactly his type, and was easily someone he’d be distracted by.

Pushing aside the fact he hadn’t come to see you first, with giddy excitement you pushed away from the bar, steadying yourself briefly as your head spun a little, but wasted little time as you wonkily made your way towards your best friend.

Foregoing the formalities and for the sudden need to hold onto something, you hugged him tightly from behind. He was definitely firmer than you remembered, and he smelt amazing, but Matty always did.

“I’m so glad you’re here.” You sighed happily as you snuggled into his back, the effects of the alcohol well and truly in control. “And when did you get so fit?” You exemplified your point by patting his toned stomach with a giggle.

“Y/N? What are you doing?” Your hand paused, and your eyes snapped open at the questioning voice of your best friend. It took you a moment to realise it hadn’t come from the body you were currently clung to, but from your right. Dread suddenly filled you as you slowly turned your head and were met with the amused face of your best friend.

With a gasp, you jumped away from the stranger, losing your footing as you did. Thankfully the stranger grasped your arm before you could go down, not that it would make this situation any less embarrassing if you had. Though what did make it worse was when you finally looked up at said stranger and saw, quite possibly, the most attractive man you’d ever seen in your life.

He had the most captivating pair of green eyes you’d ever seen and a smattering of freckles covering his nose and cheeks. A stubbled jawline that could cut glass, and he was staring down at you with much of the same amusement your best friend had.

“So, strangers are getting touched up before me now?” Matt teased as he walked over to you, shattering the little staring contest you and green eyes had gotten into. He let go of your arm quickly and took a polite step back at Matt’s presence, and you had to force yourself to look away from him.

Your cheeks reddened at Matty’s remark, and you only wished for the floor to swallow you whole. Matty slung an arm over your shoulder and hugged you to him, which you half returned in your traumatised state.

“I’m honestly so sorry; I’ve had a bit to drink and really thought you were him,” you jab a thumb in Matt’s direction, to which he bursts out laughing.

“If you were really thinking that, then you must be drunk.” He laughs, and you can’t help but join in on the absurdity of the situation along with the other two men.

“Honestly, don’t sweat it; it’s made my night, that’s for sure.” The handsome stranger waves you off with a chuckle, and his voice is deep and husky and does an array of things to you. ‘Seriously Y/N? Get yourself together’.

You smile thankfully at him, relieved he found the funny side of it despite the crippling embarrassment you were currently feeling.

“So, how do you both know the bride?” Matty speaks up, and you want to smack him so hard. You were hoping to make your escape and hide in the restroom for the rest of the night, not prolong your suffering.

“My brother Sammy here works with the groom.” Green eyes pats the tall one on the back, and you note his tight-lipped smile at the obvious nickname. It makes your lips twitch in amusement.

“We’re junior partners at KS Attorney’s.” Sam adds and you nod in acknowledgment.

“And what about you?” You find yourself asking before you could even stop yourself. Green eyes looks at you, his eyes sparkling as a sly smirk lifts his noticeably plump lips. ‘Or did you just notice that? Focus Y/N!’

“Well, I’m just here to crash the wedding." He grins proudly, “Meet a few of the bridesmaids.” He winks at you, and you scoff.

“Well, I don’t mean to burst your bubble,” you pause for him to give you his name, which he supplies with a smirk. “Dean,” you repeat. “But I’m maid of honour, and this is my sister's wedding.” You cross your arms and arch a brow. It makes his cocky attitude drop instantly, and it’s quite amusing to watch him fumble.

“I, you know. I’m just kidding.” He stumbles with a nervous chuckle, and you narrow your eyes playfully at him until you feel you’ve made him uncomfortable enough.

“Don’t worry about it." You concede your teasing with a chuckle. “Weddings are supposed to be fun, right?” You shrug before waving him closer to you like you’re about to tell him a secret. He easily obliges, and you try to ignore the close proximity and the delicious scent of him again before you speak.

“Just watch out for the brunette; she’s a little on the crazy side.” You nod your head over at Tiffany, one of the bridesmaids and he follows your direction to the dance floor. She was in your sister's circle of friends, but she was well-known for being a little clingy with men.

You’d heard she’d burnt her last boyfriend's clothes when he didn’t return her calls for a few hours, convinced he was cheating on her. He wasn’t. He was visiting his sick grandmother, something he’d told her the night before.

“Noted.” Dean nods seriously as you pull back and looks away thoughtfully, as if he were thinking of something important before his eyes snap to you again. “What about the maid of honour? Is she game?” Your heart flutters a little at the smoothness of his implication, and you can’t stop your shy smile. You had to look away from him, and it was then you noticed the other two were missing. You frown and look around before you spot Matty and Sam further down the bar with a beer each. Matty catches your eye and winks at you before pointing at you and then Dean and making a vulgar gesture with his hand and mouth. You roll your eyes before you look back at Dean.

“I see we’ve been ditched.” You scoff humorously and Dean’s smirk wideness.

“And you haven’t answered my question.” He points out cooly and leans against the bartop; his stare intense, making you squirm a little. Men at this magnitude of hotness never hit on you, and if it wasn’t for the alcohol still running through your veins, you’re certain you would have malfunctioned by now.

“She is not.” You decide to lie and bite your lip as you too lean against the bar. Dean’s brow raises as if he were surprised by your admission, and you try not to look him in the eye too much.

“Oh really? And who’s the lucky guy?” You try to fight your smile, and the blush you’re certain is already staining your cheeks. Instead of answering, your eyes subtly flicker over to Matty, and Dean’s smile broadens, his eyes glimmering with mischief.

“You and him?” He nods his head back in their direction, and you shrug with a confident smile, which soon falters when he leans in close to whisper in your ear. “Sweetheart, if that were true, I’d hate to be the one to tell you that your boyfriend is currently flirting up a storm with my brother.”

He pulls back with a cocky smirk, and you can’t contain yourself much longer. Laughter bubbles out of you uncontrollably because it’s true. You and Dean both watch as an uncomfortable Sam tries to dodge Matty’s obvious advances with tears in your eyes.

“We should probably go save him. Matty’s nothing if not persistent.” You breathe out, still trying to calm yourself as you wipe gently at your under-eyes.

"Nah, Sammy’s a big boy; he can fend for himself.” Dean shrugs off with a smile. "Besides, you still have a question to answer and no more B.S.” He points at you half serious, and you can’t find it in you to lie this time.

AN: There you go guys, my first bingo square complete. Let me know what you guys think. Also I am open to maybe expanding on this story, like a prequel and maybe another chapter... Let me know if you'd be interested to see more of this.

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iwriteasfotini · 1 day ago

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Major Jegulus Fluff and Sap

323 words of excerpt below my little commentary.

Feeling generous and just so impatient to share the more mature years of the story. You all don't know it yet, but I am a sucker for super sappy Jegulus. Like so sweet it might turn your stomach. Just wait...

What I'm posting versus what I'm currently writing and editing is like two different worlds. So here is some of a future installment which hasn't even been announced yet. O.o

Reg POV, sixth/seventh year

...

“Yes, I love healing with you.” James walked to the toilet and started to pee, Regulus left the door open as he walked to the kitchen.

They lounged about, James telling Regulus stories. Then Regulus told a few of his own. He told James about the night they met on the astronomy tower, how he was already head over heels for Sirius’ best friend, James Potter. How James had grabbed his hand and Regulus felt truly seen by someone for the first time in years.

“I used to take certain routes between lessons because I’d cross your path,” admitted Regulus.

James laughed, “didn’t people think that was strange?”

“I was usually alone, no one even noticed. Including you.”

James gave him a mild look, “I started falling for you the day we crossed paths on the quidditch pitch. You were such a snarky little bitch. I loved it.”

“I saw you on Platform Nine and Three-Quarters when I was ten. You were running through the crowd laughing and I thought you looked so free.”

“I was so nervous my first day,” said James. “I covered it all up with exuberant behavior.”

“Does that imply you are actually an anxiety ridden wreck and cover it up with general arrogance?”

“Aṉpu,” said James, hand over his heart, “of course I’m an anxiety ridden wreck. Half of my heart is walking around outside of my body.”

“You know how it feels then?”

“To see you and feel like I was holding my breath. To feel my heart restart when I catch a glimpse of you across the great hall. To know that I’m the only one who knows all of you. Yeah Reg, I know how it feels.” James wove their fingers together.

...

I mean is this cruel to share knowing the work isn't going up on Ao3 for a year... SO MUCH to share before then. Including all those little moments the boys alluded to. ;-)

Check out my pinned post for more info, currently posting year one of this epic series!

iwriteasfotini on Ao3

PS My beta reader (and partner) who is cis, straight, white, and mid-thirties says my Jegulus scenes often invoke eyerolling for him. "Here we go again." Fuck yes, here we go again. And again. And again! Never too much sappy Jegulus. XXXXXXX

PPS It should speak volumes he's willing to plow through those lovey dovey Jegulus moments for everything else I'm bringing in this series. Brace yourselves people, shite's going to get real!

#our love is written in the stars #regulus black #james potter #starchaser #marauders era #dead gay wizards from the 70s #jegulus #regulus x james #james x regulus #james loves regulus #desi james potter #james fleamont potter #james potter loves regulus black #fluff #sunseeker #archive of our own #ao3 writer #ao3 #never too much sappy jegulus

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bwabbitv3s · 10 months ago

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Good Godfather Vlad AU - Part 6

Lingering Memories and Future Plans

Link to Index Post, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

Vlad is not sure what is worse, the look of hope on the boy's face knowing he is not alone, or the horror it turns into at the revelation of what Vlad implied by it being drawn out. He is not able to ponder for long as in typical timing Jack interrupts them. Dragging Danny away to meet another old acquaintance. Voice booming out another ridiculous nickname suited more for a teen than a grown adult as they disappear into the crowd. There is an almost hollow feeling to standing there after his most tightly kept secret was finally told to someone.

It is hard the rest of the night trying to socialize for long enough for it to be acceptable to slip out early. Only getting glimpses of the Fenton family in the now crowded room. Drifting away from them to mingle and get his thoughts and emotions under control with frivolous small talk. The last hour has been a whirlwind and he has a lot to unpack in private and some very creative allegories to work out for his therapist. He is not quite ready to face any of the Fentons anymore tonight.

It won’t leave him alone as he tries to talk about useless things like the frogeye salad at the buffet, how the gym still has the old mascot mural, and listens to people talk about their children when he can’t even remember if they were in his classes. The thoughts on his mind keep sliding back to what his old friends would do to him being part ghost. What they could do to their own son trying to understand.

What ghosts had they interacted with to colour their impressions of ghosts? Had they faced only the emotional blobs of animated ectoplasm that were the jellyfish of the ghost world? Leaving them thinking ghosts are just thoughtless creatures barely intelligent and driven by instincts. Maybe the half formed ghost animals that were next most common. He knows his first few encounters had left him with a poor insight to them. While the most populous of the ghosts he had encountered were not a true representation of what ghosts are in general. It would be like judging all the animals of a forest by just garden snails and slugs you find under one rock.

Memories drift to his first few encounters with sapient ghosts. Ones that seem to line up more with the ominous phrasing of having to deal with the ghost from Danny. Had they faced any of the aggressive ghosts that were never human or living creatures before? The ones that don’t understand the fragility of life or danger they could inflict. Or almost worse the ones that were stuck in an endless loop of their death unable to understand what had happened and doomed to linger until they run out of energy and end. It was almost enough to make him actually drink tonight. He downed his fizzy mocktail almost wishing he could let himself have an actual cocktail, but no drinking never made things better for him.

Maybe he could try and introduce them to some of the more friendly and harmless ghosts he knew? Slowly get them to see the ghost animals when not aggravated and just acting the same in death as life. If he got it just right he could easily convince them to come visit as a favour for advice on their expertise in ghosts. Sighting that he is a bit out of practice after switching to business. After all his home is haunted by the Dairy King he could probably work out a deal with him to help slowly change their minds over the course of a few days. Then once they are in research and observation mode over hunting help ease them into it.

The start of the plan begins to form from there as he watches the lights get switched from mingling with buffet food to the evening dance as the live band takes over. Miraculously the evening continues without any emergencies and he is able to leave without it looking odd. The last thing he sees before slipping out of the gym is a set of glowing green eyes and a timid wave. Vlad offers a very small wave of his own as his eyes glow red briefly. In the cool evening air he lets out a sigh. It is going to be a long night and he needs some time to unpack things with his therapist before he should make any actual plans.

~ ~

Whoo, that was hard to get ironed out. I had to keep wrangling it back into place as I got Vlad's train of thought right. Next chapter or one soon will likely dip into Danny's or Jazz's POV. As always the Tags have my thought and stuff that would not fit into the post.

#good godfather Vlad AU #good godfather vlad #Danny phantom AU #danny phantom #danny fenton #vlad masters #This is a very Vlad heavy installment #The reunion could only last so long #Vlad's mind is his own worse enemy here #He is used to having so much control and plan for things #Not being able to know just what the assumptions they have is hard on him #Danny meanwhile is having a little bit of dissociation over this #He might not be alone and someone knows what he is going through first hand #Also the overwhelming need to know just if Vlad can help him with his powers #I might just make the next chapter from Danny's POV #That or it might dip into Jazz

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gyudons · 1 year ago

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despicable

updates as of 22 oct

Travis Dermott knew that he would draw attention with his actions in the Coyotes’ home opener against the Anaheim Ducks at Mullett Arena on Saturday. The Arizona defenseman just hoped that the spotlight might shine on the issue that he was addressing, not on him.

“You don’t really want to go against rules that are put in place by your employer, but there’s some people who took some positive things from it,” Dermott said. “That’s kind of what I’m looking to impact.

“You want to have everyone feel included and that’s something that I have felt passionate about for a long time in my career. It’s not like I just just jumped on this train. It’s something that I’ve felt has been lacking in the hockey community for a while. I feel like we need supporters of a movement like this; to have everyone feel included and really to beat home the idea that hockey is for everyone.”

“I won’t lie,” said Dermott, who is playing on a one-year, two-way contract. “From the outside, it’s easy to see that I’m putting my career on the line for something. I definitely went through some emotional ups and downs that night, not regretting anything by any means, but I’d love to have maybe done a couple of steps a little different by making sure that everyone was aware of what was going on before I did it.

“I don’t want to put my teammates or my coaches or my GMs or the equipment managers in any kind of bad light when it’s their job to kind of look out for something like this happening. It was definitely something that I did just by myself and was prepared to kind of deal with whatever repercussions the league decides to push towards that. I’m not going to back off and say that this battle is won, but we’re going to find better ways to do it.”

As Dermott noted, LGBTQ+ inclusion is an issue that he has supported for a long time. Without getting into specifics, Dermott said the issue is personal for him because it impacts people close to him.

“I’d be lying if I said I haven’t shed tears about this on multiple occasions,” he said. “So yeah, it’s something I’m definitely very passionate about.

“I’ve met a lot of people that from the outside, it looks like they have everything going right in their life and they have a smile on their face every time they talk to you. But sometimes when we get closer to people and get comfortable enough for them to open up to you, you can see that there’s some pretty dark stuff happening to some good people. It doesn’t take too many times encountering something like that for it to really change someone.

“I’ve been blessed to have some of those opportunities put in front of me to really change my view of what being a good person means; what being a good father and a good example and role model means going forward. You really see how people are hurting and it’s because of a system that maybe no one’s intentionally trying to be malicious about, but until you’ve really had that first-person experience seeing people hurting from it right in front of you, it’s tough to kind of take steps.”

It would be a surprise if the league handed down any sort of punishment. The optics alone would add to the public relations damage that the original ban created. Even so, Dermott reiterated his desire to bring the entire franchise into the fold before he takes similar actions in the future, but he also made it clear that he will not be silenced on the topic.

“It’s not like I’m shutting up and going away,” he said. “I know more questions are going to be coming. We’re just going to be as prepared as we can be to just spread love. That’s the thing. It’s gay pride that we’re talking about, but it could be men’s health. It could be any war. It’s just wanting world peace. Everyone’s got to love each other a little bit more.

“Like my parents said growing up, ‘How awesome would it be to be the guy that people look up to?’ That’s what really hit home when I was a kid, especially from my mom. You want to grow up and be that guy. You want to be the guy that’s having the impact on kids like NHL players had on you. If they had been racist or bigoted, that’s going to have an effect on you.

“With how many eyes are on us, especially with the young kids coming up in the new generation, you want to put as much positive love into their brain as you can. You want them to see that it’s not just being taught or coming from maybe their parents at home. They need to see it in the public eye for it to really make an effect.”

#nhl #pride #lgbt #gay #queer #hockey

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writersdrug · 2 months ago

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Someone sent an anonymous ask about Soap being all whiny and jealous, complaining to Simon about how lucky he is to have such a pretty, curvy girl and Tumblr swallowed it 😫 (This is gonna be a 2 parter)

Warnings: nsfw, threesome, sub soap and reader, dom ghost, training, voyeurism

But I can imagine Ghost would be so sick and tired of it. Johnny's constantly yapping like the mutt he truly is: "Yer a lucky man, LT. Findin' a pretty bird like that." "Where'd ye get her? Need to find one for myself." "She as soft as she sounds?"

Ghost wants to snap at him for talking about you like that - he shouldn't be talking about you at all. But he knows the poor man is just lonely, aching to have something soft and supple like you. Your smiling face smushed between Ghost's fingers when you come to drop off the lunch he forgot. The jeans that fit snuggly around your ass and thighs, the shirt that hugs the swell of your breasts, stretched thin as it barely contains them... poor Johnny boy can't help but whine at the sight of something so appetizing, so soft and warm right there - he's jealous of his LT. How did someone so hard around the edges pluck something so sweet?

Simon hates to see him so upset, pouting in the corner like a scolded puppy as you stare at your boyfriend with stars in your eyes. Johnny could have a girl, but he gets overeager: fucking them on the first date, leaving them sore and bitten and tearful. He's too rough, and they're quick to excuse themselves, fleeing the next morning and blocking him from all social media.

Johnny needs to learn to be patient and gentle with his toys. He's nice enough to let the sergeant practice with his own pretty girl, and you're more than happy to assist Soap with his green-eyed monster.

After a nice dinner at his LT's house, served by you - along with some bronze, liquid courage - Johnny sits on the recliner, chatting with Ghost, who's relaxed on the sofa. You enter the living room and stand next to Simon, biting your lip excitedly and staring between the two of them. Simon wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you to sit on the arm of the sofa.

"Y' think she's pretty?" He asks Johnny, who blinks.

Gorgeous. Comely. Ravishing. "Course I do." He responds plainly, trying not to get worked up over the way you're perched next to his LT so prettily.

"Yea, you do..." Simon mutters, squeezing the flesh at your thigh. "What's it you said? 'She must look nice, spillin' out my hands’?"

Soap is nothing short of mortified. His eyes are wide, staring back at Simon - he doesn't know what to say. He said those things within the secrecy of his conversation with his lieutenant - he didn't expect him to repeat it outside of that bubble, let alone in front of you, the person in question.

"N' what else was it? 'Need t' have a pretty li'l wife with a rack like that to lay my head-"

"Simon!!"

Soap finally glares at his LT, his fingers digging into his own thighs. His heart is pounding in his chest. Is Ghost trying to get you to hate him?

You giggle and stand upright. "It's ok, Johnny." You coo, slowly walking over to him with your hands behind your back. "I like it. It means you like me."

Soap has little time to do anything but grunt when you swing a leg over his thighs and seat yourself in his lap. Your cleavage is right there, just inches from his face, and he can feel the bare skin of your thighs burning through his trousers.

"Help me take this off?" You tug at the skirt of your dress, looking down at him with those innocent, glossy eyes.

He can't breathe. His clothes are too hot and too tight, his cock nearly choking in the confines of his pants. He looks to his lieutenant for help - Ghost just smiles, like he's watching his favorite porn. He might be, depending on how this plays out.

"Go on, Johnny. Slowly."

Johnny wants to be anything but slow, once he realizes his best friend is showing you off like a collectible toy. He looks back up at you, watching the way your plump lip catches between your teeth. He carefully reaches around, grabbing the back of your neckline and tugging the zipper down - slowly, as he was instructed. He can barely focus on the movement with your breasts right there, imagining what they'd taste like between his warm lips. The shoulders of your dress fall away, revealing the lacy bra you're wearing. He looks up at you, drool pooling under his tongue as you slide your hands over his shoulders, one coming around to play with the base of his mohawk.

"You can take it off." You whisper.

He wastes no time, his hands smoothing up your back and unclasping your bra in one motion. He helps you pull it from your shoulders - your breasts, round and full, now pressing against his chest. He wants to touch. He needs to touch.

He shoots a hungry, pleading look to Ghost - he nods back at Soap, which is all the sergeant needs to absolve his filthy behavior. He closes your breast in his palm, eyes hazy as he takes your nipple into his warm mouth. He hardly has to move his head forward because you lean into his mouth, your fingers grasping at his hair and your back arching deliciously. Johnny groans, using one hand to dig his fingers into the thick flesh at your hips, and his other to press his palm against your lower back. He shifts himself down as his tongue swirls around your nipple, groans leaving his throat and reverberating against the bud, quickly hardening from his ministrations. You sound so sweet, high-pitched coos and soft breaths pouring from between your lips as you press your weight against Soap, shoving your breast as far into his mouth as he can take. You kiss the crown of his head, whispering a good boy against his skin.

He practically whines, bucking his hips upwards, relishing in how your body grounds him into the sofa cushions. He releases your breast with a pop and quickly takes the other one into his hand, sealing his lips over it with a hum. He looks up at you through wanting, begging eyes as you toss your head back, squeezing your thighs around his hips. His tongue undulates against your stiffening peak, slobbering around the underside of your breast as he gives you another experimental jerk of his hips. You gasp, rolling your hips back down onto him and staring at him with your lust-blown pupils.

His cock is demanding to be let free. He's going to fuck you hard, he's going to pound you into the chair until you're begging, showing his LT just how much of a good boy he is. He's never felt this blazing forest fire within his veins, setting off nerve after nerve and burning a trail right down to his hard, throbbing member.

He hooks his fingers into the hem of your soaked panties, fully intending to rip them off - but you quickly grab his wrist and yank his hand away. He looks at you, blinking through his trance as a look of confusion settles on his face. "Wha's wrong?"

You giggle his expression - the sound goes straight to his tip with another rush of blood. "These are for Simon." you whisper, slowly pushing yourself off of Soap's lap. He lets his arms fall to his sides with a desperate look, letting you back away, right into Ghost's waiting lap.

"Gonna show ya a thing or two, Johnny." he says, pulling you back to his chest. "Teach ya a few tricks, maybe you'll be able t' keep a woman longer than a day." he pulls a switchblade from his pocket and flicks it open. The blade drags down over your belly - you chew your lip as it electrifies your skin, the tip sliding lower and lower until he's running it over your pussy. The fabric is soaked as he lingers there, the sharp edge barely separated from your cunt by your flimsy, drenched panties.

You stare at Soap, not once breaking eye contact as Ghost slices through the fabric. Soap's mouth is agape in disbelief and lust, enamored by the sight before him. He can't tear his eyes from the view of your sopping, glistening pussy, watching as Simon slides his thick fingers over your folds. He catches his thumb under the hood of your clit and you jolt, shooting a hand down to grab his wrist - but he doesn't stop. You whine and mewl, leaning your head back against his shoulder as he flicks the bud, strumming over it slowly.

He stares Soap in the eyes, watching his reaction. "Alright there, Johnny?"

He's drooling, mouth hung open, hypnotized by the way your muscles clench with each stroke of Simon’s thumb. “… Aye…” he manages to say – his fingers dig into the cushions beneath him as he tries to control the urge to tear across the room and drive his cock into your cunt, fucking you against his lieutenant’s chest the way you deserve: rough and hard. Simon’s been teasing you too long; you need to be ravaged, orgasm after orgasm pulled from you, faster than you can think.

“Let me have a go, yea?” he says boldly, looking at Simon with desperation. “That’s what this is, right? Ye want me to fuck ‘er nice? I’ll do it. I’ll do it, sir – I’ll take good care of her-“

“No you won’t.” Simon interjects before the dog can get too riled up. His fingers are now strumming up and through your folds, and you’re panting and staring at Johnny with needy desire. “’S why you can’t keep anyone. You’re too eager.”

The truth shoots through Soap’s chest like an arrow, and he meets Simon’s gaze. He’s obviously rock-hard in his trousers, he won’t even attempt to hide it. Simon’s got a cocky, knowing smirk on his face, and you… poor you is just wishing Simon would spit out what he wants to say, so the three of you could get on with the show.

“Gonna teach you a few secrets, sergeant.” Simon says, and Soap isn’t sure what to think about having his rank used in this situation. “My girl needs to cum.” He pulls his fingers away from you – you whine in frustration, but are quickly silenced when two, thick digits are stuffed into your mouth. You obediently clean off your own slick with your tongue, looking back down at Johnny with a heavy, lidded stare.

“I’ll make her cum.” Soap says quickly. If this is a matter of whether or not he can make someone cum, he’ll pass that test easily.

“You’ll do it right.” Simon growls. “Need to understand the difference between getting’ your cock wet and pleasuring ‘er. ‘S my girl ‘n I won’t have you roughhousing ‘er. Got it?”

Soap’s throat bobs as he swallows. It was another task, another order from his superior. He clears his mind of any preprogrammed, lustful thoughts, sent straight to his brain from his achingly hard member – this wasn’t about him. It was about following instructions. He was a good soldier, he could do that much.

“Yes sir.”

Simon nods. He shifts hips, pulling his fingers from your lipsand grabbing your hips. You grab his forearms for support as he spreads his muscular thigs, forcing your legs farther apart as they rest on either side of his knees. Slick dribbles down from your pussy and onto Simon’s length, which is about to tear a hole through his pants.

“Then get to it. Sick of hearin’ you yap all day about not bein’ able to keep a girl. Put your mouth to good use – we’re about to fix that.”

#ghost #simon ghost riley #simon riley #ghost x reader #ghost x you #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #ghost x reader x soap #simon x reader x soap #soap #soap mactavish #johnny mactavish #soap x reader #soap x you

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mostly-imagines · 3 months ago

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At Least I’m Not Alone at the Wake

jason todd x fem!reader

aka how jason feels safe even when he feels like he’s dying

HEY today we’re going to play a game where we practice reblogging fics: if you read this and like it—reblog!! ie, if you like and dont reblog i might block bc im getting sick of the lack of decorum

warnings: angst w comfort throughout

It took less than thirty seconds for the silence of the night to drift into sounds of shrieks echoing off the buildings along the street. The sharp contrast had you and Jason bolting upright on the couch, ears on alert. It only took a few seconds more of listening for you to realize you’re not hearing shouting—it’s laughter. Maniacal, uncontrolled laughter.

There’s a beat as you both freeze upon the implication, the unsettling realization dropping in on you. You barely have a moment to process it before Jason’s pushing up from the couch and heading towards the bathroom.

“Close the window,” he grumbles.

You blink as you register his words before jumping up to do as told, quickly sliding the frame shut and locking it. He returns soon with an armful of towels in hand, and you stand back as he stuffs a couple along the window sill with rough movements. He goes throughout the apartment, doing the same to the other windows. He rounds back to the living room window, looking down at the street with a heavy look on his face.

You trust that the towels will do their job in preventing the laughing gas from getting in the apartment, but they’re unable to block out the bellows of hysteria.

He backs away from the window, letting the living room wall hold his weight. You both listen to the harrowing echoes with still bodies.

You watch him, waiting for a reaction. You don’t mean to, but you know you’re looking at him like he’s a loaded spring. You try not to, you know how much he hates how his family does that to him, but fuck, it’s hard not to worry about him.

When Joker incidents have come up, they’ve usually been something you’re able to ignore or even get ahead of and drive out of the city. But this is raucous and chaotic, clearly enough to shut down the city from the inside. Besides, Jason would be booking it out of here if he thought there was any chance of a clean getaway in this.

But you know he’s got no interest in inserting himself in anything Joker related, especially something so destabilizing.

While you know Jason’s family cares about him, of course they do, but you’ve noticed they sometimes put Gotham’s needs first and his second. So the severity of this attack is concerning for you for two reasons.

“Will they…” you shuffle, “Will they need you?”

He’s quick to answer, voice firm. “No.” A long moment passes before he adds on, quieter, “They won’t want me out there.”

You nod to yourself, trying to relax your body. You being on edge isn’t going to help him.

You watch as his head thumps against the wall, eyes squeezed shut. He’s tough—you know he’s tough. He can withstand a hell of a lot more than you’ll probably ever even know. But even for Gotham, this is a lot. And even for someone who hasn’t been through what Jason has, the ringing repetitions of laughter are maddening. You wonder if this is what the Joker hears in his head. You wonder if this is what Jason heard.

The intensity of the laughing increases, more people likely becoming exposed to the gas. You think you can hear it in one of your neighbor’s apartments too.

He thumps his head against the drywall again, hands clenching at his sides. It takes one more forceful thud for you to move over to him, cradling your hand to the side of his head, holding him still. He lets you, though he still doesn’t open his eyes.

“Jay,” you say softly, stroking his hair. “Let’s take a shower, yeah?” Normally you’d try for a bath to calm him instead but you hope the waterfall from the shower might be enough to drown out the noise.

He takes a second to respond, letting your hand bear the weight of his head. “Yeah.”

His voice is splintered though, and his shoulders droop as he stands up fully. He waits to move until you start to lead him, flinching at every spike of laughter. You reach back and take his hand, giving it two squeezes. He squeezes your hand back but doesn’t loosen his grip.

As you enter the bathroom he wastes no time getting straight to the shower nozzle and turning it on. You press the door shut behind you, sealing out a decent portion of the chaos. You decide against turning the overhead light on, opting instead to let the small pink-shaded lamp provide a warm glow that you can easily maneuver throughout the shadows in. You figure he needs a more tranquil atmosphere than the harsh white light the bathroom ceiling can provide.

You turn to him in time to catch him pulling his shirt up harshly, movements jerked and impatient.

You place a gentle hand on his forearm, “Hey.”

He pauses his actions, eyes on the floor.

You don’t say anything else, but he understands your objection regardless. You remove your touch and he peels his shirt off slower, kinder to himself.

You wait to make sure he continues this method with the rest of his clothes before you start to remove yours.

The downpour of water on the tiles does it’s intended job in creating your own little sanctum away from the noise. You climb into the shower after him, standing in the stray mist sprays that made their way past him. The bits of water that do manage their way to you are hot—not scalding, but hot enough that you know his chest is going to start getting numb very soon standing in front of the stream like this.

You trace lines over the muscles of his back, outlining them and every little indent of a scar. When you run out of canvas on his back you move onto his arms, right then left.

It’s not until you trace down his wrist that you realize his head is angled down. You don’t need to be standing in front of him to know that his focus is zeroed in on his scar and you’re not sure how long it's been that way. Too long, in any case.

“Jay,” you say so softly that the water nearly drowns you out. “Will you look at me, please?”

He does turn to you, slowly, but he doesn’t look up.

You hold his face in your hands, nudging him to look up at you. He looks tired, drained.

You know he has to hear that laughter in a different way than you do. It’s uncomfortable and frightening for you, but for him, it’s layers upon layers of the sound he heard while he was being beaten to death. And even beyond that horrible trauma, the reminder of it brings forth every memory of what happened afterwards, not to mention the heavy baggage you know he feels over being here at all. And you can see it all mulling behind his eyes.

“You know I love you,” you tell him with sincerity. His gaze stays heavy and you can tell it’s a struggle for him to hold the eye contact.

You lean up to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth, catching his bottom lip slightly. Your next kiss meets his lips fully. You have to push up on your toes a little bit but he does the work of meeting you halfway. It’s a slow, intimate exchange, as fluid and serene as breathing.

“I love all of you,” you murmur against his lips. You let your hands fall to his chest, resting as gently as they can over his pecs. “Everything about you.”

You kiss the top of his Y scar, trailing down soft pecks to where it forks off. You feel his shoulders sag a bit, tension forcing its way out of him. You lean down to continue your kisses down the vertical line marking his abdomen, your hands lightly following in your wake.

He says your name painfully, like he’s begging you to stop. You’ll give him partial reprieve, taking his hands in yours and kissing his scarred knuckles. It’s his instinct to push affection away, you know that, but you also know that he needs it. That’s why he doesn’t stop you now—he knows he needs it—it’s just a lot for him all at once, emotionally. Which is why he gives no warning before he picks you up by your thighs and pulls you close.

He’s got you a full head higher than him and he uses the difference to hide his face in your neck. Sometimes he feels like that’s the only place he can go. He maneuvers you around so your back is pressed up against the wall as you hold each other tight.

You stay in there like that until the water runs cold, and then some. You have to nudge him a bit into setting you back down then, but he does, letting you collect and wrap the both of you in towels. The second the water turns off you can hear the cackling through the walls.

As you return to the bedroom, he only bothers to pull on a pair of boxers before collapsing his weight onto the mattress. The lack of layers won’t help him any, but you know why he did it.

He can’t always look after himself the way he should—he disregards his own needs and has trouble even thinking of what could help him. You’ve developed a mind for it though—for him—and you know that being exposed and vulnerable like this isn’t going to help him calm down. He prefers being covered up when he’s stressed, it gives him more security, you think.

You open up the dresser and dig through for his most comfortable hoodie and sweatpants. He takes them from you, but he looks remiss at the thought of exerting anymore energy right now, so you help him tug on the clothes, successfully blocking out the now icy air from the AC.

Once he’s fully clothed he pulls you forward to sit on his lap. You stumble a bit on the way but he compensates by holding you very tight, not giving your body any option to fall. His grip on you tells you that he’s not concerned with you getting dressed too, which you’re perfectly willing to oblige.

You have to force him to let you break away a little bit so you can reach over to the nightstand and grab your phone and earbuds.

“Movie or music?”

He doesn’t say anything, only nods his head once at the end of your sentence. You take that to mean music and open up your playlist on your phone, handing him the headphones.

There’s a harsh spike in the hysterics outside, mixed with what sounds like screams, and it has Jason flinching hard. You think you can see tears welled in his eyes as he fumbles to get the headphones in his ears. He takes the phone from you and picks the first song he sees and turns the volume up, up, up.

You shift yourself around so that you’re laying back against the pillows, giving him room to lay down over your legs, wrapping his arms around your waist with a firm grip. You pull the hood up over his head, but keep your hands woven underneath, threading through his hair.

His cheek mushes against your bare stomach, and with the way he’s laying, you’re sure the earbuds are digging uncomfortably into his ear. He makes no effort to move in any case. You can hear the song playing word for word, and while the noise exposure concerns you, if there was ever a time to let it go, it would be now.

You’re both wrapped up nicely in the blankets and you can only see the tip of his nose and a few strands of ivory hair strewn past his forehead. Despite all the snug layers, he shakes a bit under your touch.

He falls asleep before the problem outside gets wrapped up, and you turn down the music. Not all the way, just enough that he can rest in peace.

After a while the giggles die down and aside from a few first responder sirens, things get quiet again. About twenty minutes later, Nightwing ducks in through your window and scares the hell out of you. The interaction does not, however, wake Jason up, which is how you know tonight took a very heavy toll on him.

Even though the lights aren’t on in your bedroom you slide down from the pillows a bit more and let the blanket and Jason drown your chest out from visibility.

Nightwing gives you a silent, if not awkward, wave and scans over Jason. Even in the dark can see the worry in his eyes. He looks back up at you and throws up a questioning thumbs up with a tilt of his head.

You nod and he nods back slowly as he takes one more look at his brother before hopping out the window.

You peer down at Jason and brush his curls back gently. His hold on you tightens just a bit as he turns in his sleep.

reblog or get out seriously

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ikeuverse · 1 month ago

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YOU HATE ME, UNIVERSE? — s.jaeyun

PAIRING: jake x fem!reader GENRES: smut, fluff, slight angst, a pinch of humor WC: 9.4k+

WARNINGS: swearing, drinking, sexual tension for a while. jake is frustrated for the most part (poor thing, let's understand him here). unprotected sex, oral sex (f. receiving), holding the neck, but no hanging. cum inside (make it safe and cover it up), aftercare. lmk if i forgot anything.

SYNOPSIS: how much the universe could hate you and jake to conspire against you every time you two came close to kissing? it was driving him crazy, jake needed to do something about it.

NOTES: i honestly don't know how this idea came about, it just popped into my head and i let it flow. it was something so natural, so i just let it happen and here it is. i hope you like it!

masterlist

Anyone in their right mind could tell what was between you and Jaeyun whether it was the extremely palpable sexual tension or the mutual desire that coursed through both of you as you became closer and closer.

It was always like that. Ever since the day Sunghoon introduced the two of you as an excuse for his best friend to meet new people. Not in a sexual sense because he didn't want to interfere that much, but he also knew that Jaeyun needed to talk to someone other than him and Heeseung. The boy was completely lonely and it was driving him crazy.

The idea of you becoming someone to talk to, since you were the social butterfly of the group, fit like a glove. So well that Jaeyun quickly opened up to you and the two of you started chatting. But he was so much calmer than Sunghoon and Heeseung when approaching.

Jaeyun was subtle when he arrived, making eye contact first before greeting people. He would say hello to everyone until he sat beside you and brushed his hand against yours to get your attention. At first, it was innocent, you would even intertwine your fingers in his quickly as a response to the greeting, Jaeyun maintaining the grip for a while before being interrupted to greet other people.

What changed was that Sunghoon and Heeseung weren't like that with you. The two of them would come and hug you, and Heeseung would mess up your hair because he knew you'd complain, he liked to annoy you. But no one was able to hurt you because he would break up with anyone. Sunghoon treated you like a little sister, not least because he was dating your best friend and you were responsible for introducing the two of them. He was grateful for that, so he always took the best care of you, hugging you from the side and running to his friend.

Whereas Jaeyun never held anyone's hand during greetings. He didn't make a point of touching anyone other than you or his friends for a quick handshake. That sparked something in you… So this was something just for you and him? An intimate thing that you could call yours and Jaeyun's alone?

Not to be hasty or emotional, you never even asked him, not least because it might put him off or simply make him stop holding your hand. You remember the first day before you met him when Sunghoon told you how shy Jaeyun was around anyone. That's exactly why you approached him: so that he could meet and talk to more people.

But the touching of hands became the least of your problems when you and Jaeyun started to get more physical. He didn't mind holding your waist as he walked up to the bar of the nightclub where you two were with your friends, whispering in your ear whatever silly conversation you and he were having at the moment. You'd notice the way his eyes would leave any corner of the room to focus only on your lips, even if you weren't saying anything. Just listening to him and the words coming out of his mouth.

It was a game of cat and mouse where you and Jaeyun were cornering each other more and more until you couldn't take the pressure.

If you asked him what was going on, he wouldn't hesitate to say that he wanted you. He doesn't know when it started, whether it was the first look you gave him in the living room of Sunghoon's apartment or the warm and welcoming way you greeted him. But Jaeyun was charmed at that moment. He was truly enchanted by you.

Your beauty was unreal and he lost count of how many uncontrollable, low sighs came out of his lips every time you did the slightest thing.

Get a grip Jaeyun, she's Sunghoon's friend and she's being nice to you. He was trying to convince himself of this because a shy university student who didn't have many friends would never win over a woman like you. Outspoken, self-assured, smiling and so beautiful. Not to mention every curve of your body that he swore he wouldn't pay attention to, but it became more and more impossible as he spent more time with the guys and with you.

Jaeyun was terrible at hiding the fact that he was staring, sometimes with Heeseung's help with a gentle push. A push or a hold because you could tell. Not that Heeseung wanted to stop Jaeyun, he was a great supporter of the – almost – couple, but he also wanted to know if you were comfortable with the advances. So he just tried to make everything seem a little more normal.

“How about you get her a drink instead of staring?” Heeseung asked, leaning away from the dimly lit kitchen counter of the decadent party he and his friends had decided to go to that weekend. Jaeyun sighed, turning his back to you who was in another room, but in his view of the kitchen.

“Dude, that's not gonna happen” Jaeyun almost cried at the mention of hitting on you, knowing that he got nervous just by looking at you.

“Of course it will” meanwhile, Heeseung was filling two glasses with concoctions that the other didn't even pay attention to. He was in a dilemma between running out of that kitchen and not listening to Heeseung, or following his friend's advice and bringing you a drink “Now, take this and call her somewhere more private. Trust me.”

He wanted to trust, that's for sure. He wanted Heeseung to be right enough to drop those two glasses, run to you, and kiss you. Holding the plastic cups in his hand, with a little more confidence from his friend's encouraging smile, Jaeyun straightened up.

“Anything, I'll pretend nothing happened, that I was drunk and it's your fault” he said before leaving the kitchen, hearing his friend's laughter behind him before entering the busy, noisy room.

Without losing sight of you, even if his eyes weren't on you, he walked slowly towards you. You were talking to Allie, your best friend, and Sunghoon's girlfriend. Other girls were also around, but as he didn't know many people, just his best friend was enough for him to know that he was surrounded by trustworthy people.

At a moment when Allie decided to pay attention to some questions from another girl, you were speechless for a few seconds, looking around to stop your eyes automatically on Jaeyun. It was as if your body and brain were aware of his approach and where he was.

“Hey” you moved your lips, he knew what had been said just by reading your lips. And because he always looked at your mouth.

“Hey” he greeted back, coming close enough to you to offer the glass of drink. Your throat was screaming for something wet to wash away all the talk from before because when you got together with your friends, there wasn't a minute when you were quiet.

“How did you guess I needed it?” you asked an amused tone in your voice making Jaeyun smile at you.

“Thought transmission?” he suggested, shrugging and sipping his drink.

“Uh girls, I think it's about time” Allie looked between you and Jaeyun, a small smile forming on her lips. You'd say you were innocent if it weren't for the double-entendre noises coming from your other friends.

At that moment you wanted to crawl under that filthy party mat and never leave. Or you wanted to be drunk enough to pretend that your cheeks weren't burning fiercely and that you had nowhere else to look but at him.

“I'm sorry, I—” you began, your voice breaking as there was only you and Jaeyun left in that corner.

“It's okay, I suffer a bit from that with the boys too” he said.

You bit your tongue to ask why, if it was for the same reason as yours since that could mean he had feelings for you too. But instead of asking, again, you let Jaeyun grab your hand as he always did and pull you to another corner of the party. No protest came from your lips as he left with you and went to the balcony of the busy house.

No one stayed there at that moment, even though it was dark and quiet. People seemed to want the movement and loud music, or the rooms stinking of sweat and sex from who knows how many people who had passed by. You and he preferred the calm of the wooden gang with their almost empty glasses of booze.

He sat down first, stretching his arm on the back of the bench while you sat down next to him and, without thinking, snuggled closer into his body.

“Can I…”

“Of course, you can” he didn't even need your continuation to know, you could be like that with him, even more so outside where the small gusts of wind were hitting you both. Jaeyun wanted to go back and get his coat to warm you up, but that would have meant leaving you alone, and that wasn't the plan. He wanted to follow what Heeseung had said in the letter and it was already a big step to have your head resting on his shoulder at that moment.

Not that it had never happened before, the two of you had been like this before. On the sofa in the boys' apartment, when you two went to the movies with Sunghoon and Allie, or during class breaks in the library when you shared a headset. It was so good to be close to him. The glow of the night added a finishing touch to what you and he needed.

The minutes of silence became a little longer, but at no point did you and Jaeyun feel like saying anything. He just listened to the sound of your breathing and, sometimes, your fingers touching his hand, which was resting on your shoulder. It was intimate and cozy, and he wished he could do more with it. The internal dilemma about raising one hand and touching you, pulling you close, and kissing you was screaming in the back of his mind.

What if he was such a coward? What if you thought he didn't like you or didn't feel anything, even if all the sexual tension was seen by anyone outside? It made him a little dazed, maybe even nervous, he could tell.

But Jaeyun hadn't counted on the fact that you could be a bit quicker, with more attitude. Or he could have waited since you were his opposite.

Raising your head enough to look at him, you noticed that Jaeyun was already looking in your direction. The dark, curious orbs shone a little more brightly than usual. The drinking glass had long since been emptied and placed next to the foot of the bench you were both sitting on. So you had your hands free to lift and hold his face between your hands. Jaeyun sighed at the tender touch of your fingertips, almost living a little dream as your thumbs slid across his cheeks. The tickle of tiny stubble ran down his smooth, well-drawn chin.

“Jake” you whispered, as a warning that he could stop you if he wanted to. But his response was the opposite, taking his free hand to your waist to pull you closer to him. The touch of Jaeyun's fingers reached the little bit of exposed skin between the waistband of your pants and the T-shirt you were wearing that night. He pressed his fingers there to know that you could go further, that he wanted to too.

Then slowly you leaned in. Jaeyun's other hand slid from your shoulder where his arm was resting to go to the back of your neck and hold your face closer, afraid that you would regret it and abandon him. He couldn't miss it.

When your breath hitched against his ajar mouth, his lips red and kissable, you saw him moisten them with the tip of his tongue before moving in too. The softness of Jaeyun's mouth brushed against yours before the bang of the door caused you and him to break apart in shock.

“What—” you turned towards the door, your eyes widening with the slight fear that invaded your body and Jaeyun's too.

“You two…” Heeseung stammered, his Adam's apple bobbing in a dry, regretful swallow. He looked between you and Jaeyun with wide eyes, his hand going back and forth from the bench to the inside of the house “I— I got in the way?”

“No” you said slowly.

“Yes, Heeseung” Jaeyun replied, abruptly getting up from the bench and walking over to him “What happened?”

“I'm sorry, I— Shit” Heeseung looked like he was going to cry at that moment, his eyes glazing over at the two of you as he watched you slowly get up behind Jaeyun “I just wanted help because Sunghoon's drunk and I thought I should look for you, but—” he stopped looking at his friend and his eyes went towards you “I can't believe I did that, what the fuck.”

“Hey bro, calm down” Jaeyun seemed a little less nervous, trying to understand that Heeseung really was worried about Sunghoon and wouldn't do that on purpose. You understood too, even though your heart was pounding frantically. Both from the fright and the near-kiss with Jaeyun.

“You can continue, I—”

“No, let's go after Hoon” Jaeyun held Heeseung by the shoulders, giving him a little squeeze before pushing his friend back into the house. You would have breathed a sigh of relief if he had gone in with Heeseung, but instead, he turned towards you.

Jaeyun's eyes stared at your face while you looked everywhere but at him. Come on, you were the one who had leaned in minutes before, so why be embarrassed when he was approaching you? His fingers found their way to your chin and you were forced to hold the man's gaze. A small, shy smile played on the lips you should have been kissing at that moment.

“Do you mind if—” Jaeyun asked.

“No, go help him, please” you knew that the three of them were inseparable, but you were sure to end Heeseung's life when he sobered up.

Jaeyun smiled a little wider, sliding his hand around the curve of your neck and pulling your face to his chest. His lips slowly kissed your forehead and sniffed your hair as if he needed to smell you before he pulled away.

He smiled once more, this time pulling away for real so that he could enter the house and help Heeseung with the task of taking his drunk friend home. While you felt your whole body tingle, even more so in the parts where Jaeyun had touched you, like an addictive drug you hadn't even tasted yet.

Anyone could live with being interrupted just once when they were about to kiss someone they liked. But Jaeyun already felt flames coming out of his ears because it had happened more than once. He couldn't count the number of times he'd tried to be alone with you, looking for more intimate contact with you beyond that party.

First, it was in the apartment he started sharing with Heeseung and Sunghoon. Movie night could always add Allie, you, and any girl Heeseung was interested in. Jaeyun felt lucky to be sitting next to you with his fingers tangled in yours. The small moment when he stared at you, like a silent request to go to the kitchen and make more popcorn with him. Even though the bucket on Allie's lap was practically full. It was just an excuse to sneak away and be alone with you. Slowly pin you against the counter and completely forget about the popcorn that neither of us wanted. His gaze would alternate between your lips and your eyes, the sliding nibble of Jaeyun's teeth against his lower lip to make him suppress a smile, driving you crazy without even realizing it.

He would lean towards you, his breath hot against your mouth again as your heart pounded in anticipation. Only for Heeseung's girl to arrive the next second looking for a glass of water. She was oblivious to everything the two of you were having but didn't fail to apologize for the interruption, listening to Jaeyun's masked response of affection as he pointed out to her where she could get the drink.

The second was at university, late at night, where Jaeyun always ended up staying to study a bit more on Tuesday nights. Calculus was the core of his course, but even so, it was a subject he liked to dedicate himself to, even if he found it easy. He always studied alone and had the company of the famous headphones or a few snacks to pass the time until he returned to the shared apartment, but that changed as soon as you started attending at the same time as him.

Your advanced literature lessons could be a good companion to his calculus classes, while the two of you shared snacks and exchanged furtive glances, Jaeyun could smile slowly every time your hand touched his as you went to pick up the package or simply sneak forward to get the water bottle. He didn't even bother to change seats so that he could sit next to her, get a little closer, and feel the warmth of your body in those last few minutes of studying. Finishing the task with the smell of your perfume in the air was the only thing that could calm him down at that moment.

“I'm almost done” Jaeyun whispered to you, looking in your direction, although your eyes were still on your reading material. He studied your whole calm and relaxed profile, only to almost swallow a sigh when you looked in his direction.

“There's no need to rush, I'll wait for you” you smiled so sweetly that he couldn't help himself. It was now or never, he would have to kiss you because there was no one else there to interrupt. After so long he could finally feel your lips.

Giving a fuck about any personal space rules or anything like that, Jaeyun wrapped his hands around your face and pulled you close to his. He no longer wanted to waste a second without feeling your lips and that's why the rush had to be in his favor now. If it wasn't for the damn librarian and that demon encyclopedia that fell on the floor.

“Fuck” Jaeyun wanted to shout at that moment, his hands still on your face as he felt his whole body tremble.

Your shy laughter only made everything seem worse because you were just as embarrassed as he was. There was no way this could be happening.

“The universe can only hate me, it's not possible” he finally said, moving away from you to collect the materials.

Those were the few times he clearly remembered that he didn't get to kiss you, although there could have been more, but Jaeyun simply wanted to erase them from his mind because he got stressed about that kind of thing.

He knew that it affected the mood of his friends and of everyone around him. It wasn't just you who was a social butterfly, but his best friends too. Living on the university campus with a bunch of talkative people at least gave Jaeyun more to talk about. But he wasn't in the mood. His head was spinning with the thought that the stupid universe was playing tricks on him and he'd never get to kiss you. He could even settle down to know that the attraction between the two of you would be nothing more than physical touches and the light brushing of lips – which was the closest you ever got to each other.

It took his sleep away in an inexplicable way, because how could this be happening? How could someone be capable of bringing him to the brink of collapse just because they'd never managed to kiss? It was humanly impossible, wasn't it?

“Jake” Sunghoon caught his eye, throwing the bath towel over his friend's head as he watched him entertain himself on his cell phone. However, Jaeyun's thoughts were far away from the device in his hands.

“Hm?” he asked, lifting his gaze to look at his friend just out of the shower. Sunghoon was already dressed from the waist down, for which Jaeyun was grateful, so he ran from one side of the room to the other in search of his shirt.

“Are you ready? I need to call Allie and Y/n, they're meeting us at the party” he sighed defeatedly. One more moment he'd be close to you and nothing would happen because there would always be something to get in the way.

“I'm already there, just waiting for you and Hee is having a snack” he muttered.

Sunghoon knew Jaeyun's obvious frustration and how he dealt with it all. He couldn't blame him, after all, if he had been in his friend's shoes, he would have lost his mind. But it turned out that Jaeyun was calm about it, otherwise he might well have locked you in a room at the university and kissed you right there. But everyone was talking about Sim Jaeyun, the calmest, quietest boy they knew. Even if he was collapsing with desire, he would never get past that point. Even if now, in addition to the desire, he felt anger and frustration that nothing had happened.

“Then go get something to eat too, I don't want to see you looking ugly all night” he joked, knowing that Jaeyun's countenance wasn't due to hunger.

With no room for discussion or any jokes, he just headed out of Sunghoon's room and into the kitchen. His steps were slow, contemplating what would become of his and his friends' evening together, yet another university party where he knew he'd be bumping into you all night and being interrupted at every turn. It was frustrating to unravel the evening when it hadn't even happened yet.

“Peanut butter and jelly or just a slice of cheese?” Heeseung greeted Jaeyun as soon as he entered. The sandwich ingredients were spread out in front of him on the counter, making the newcomer's smile widen a little. Heeseung was funny without even trying.

“Peanut butter and jelly sounds good” he said.

“And we can hold our drink for longer” added the other, preparing a sandwich for Jaeyun while keeping his eyes on each slice “You know, man, I think you should bring Y/n to the apartment today.”

“What? What do you mean?” he couldn't take his eyes off Heeseung's movements, the swipe of the knife with jam on the bread, the mixing of the peanut butter until he closed the bread and handed it to his friend. It was all so fast, but Jaeyun focused on each movement just so he wouldn't have to deal with a pair of curious eyes staring at him.

“We can see your anger smoking from afar, Jake” he laughed a little, “Get to the party, find her, and bring her here. So you two can be alone.”

Determined to take a bite of bread and get it over with, he didn't want Heeseung to be so sure of his thoughts. But it turned out that Jaeyun had also been avoiding you for a few weeks because he knew he'd get frustrated every time he got close to you and it came to nothing.

“I'd better let it go” he chewed a little, wiping the corner of his lips with his fingertips when a bit of jam almost got on his cheek “I don't think that's going to happen. I have to accept that and that the universe must hate me so much.”

“Come on, bro, stop being an idiot” Heeseung wanted to throw a slice of bread at him, but he knew he'd be scolded by Sunghoon as soon as he saw it. So he settled for taking a deep breath and biting into the bread he had made for him a while before Jaeyun arrived “You and her just need a space where there won't be anyone, and our apartment will be empty.

“But someone will come” he finished his snack in a few bites, surprising himself with how much he needed it. Searching for a paper napkin, he finished cleaning up the small mess before looking at Heeseung “Some neighbor is going to knock, the cell phone of one of us is going to ring… Anything” he huffed, irritated “It feels like I'm living in the worst romantic comedy of my life.”

“That's why you have the two best friends in the world to help you with this” Sunghoon appeared, stealing the piece of bread Heeseung was about to eat. Avoiding any protests as he made his way to the other side of the kitchen counter.

“And how, exactly, would you two do that?” Jaeyun asked “Heeseung has already gotten in my way once.”

“And I blame myself every day for it, I really do.”

“He almost cries just remembering it” Sunghoon laughed out loud, being joined by Jaeyun in that little implication with the older man “But Hee's right, you two need to come here. It's making even me and him angry.”

Seeing his best friends share that feeling would have been comical, if it hadn't been so tragic for him. Everyone knows the internal drama Jaeyun was going through just for not kissing someone he wanted to. He didn't want to get his hopes up because he knew how the universe wrote things for him and you, so he just shrugged and nodded in agreement.

“Great, then let's go” Sunghoon grabbed Jaeyun by the shoulders, pushing him out of the kitchen.

“Just don't use the armchair in the living room, please. I love snoozing in it” Heeseung whined one last time before turning off the lights in the apartment, bidding a small farewell to the sacred place Jaeyun could take you at the end of the party.

The familiar scene made Jaeyun's body tremble in anticipation. Parties weren't a big deal, but at least he could have some fun and talk to some people before he had to take you out of there. It was his only goal after Sunghoon and Heeseung had convinced him to take you out of that party. He just didn't know how to approach you, since he had been avoiding you for a while.

There would be no need to avoid you if he thought that exchanging a few words was enough since the last time you two were interrupted. But there was no way to think straight and he knew his feelings were confusing, fighting them wasn't working, so the only thought was to keep quiet.

Jaeyun didn't know what it was like to touch your hand or feel you so close for a few weeks. He skipped a few study sessions and even pretended to be tired the times you went to his and the boys' apartment with Allie. A goodnight wave was the only thing you received, not counting the unread messages and some with apologies: I'm busy today, can we talk later? He was a complete jerk, for sure. Now, besides fate denying all of this, you could have lost interest in him just because Jaeyun couldn't deal with his own feelings.

He tried not to focus on that, after all, the party was going on and he just needed to find you. He only needed a few seconds to talk to you and get you out of there, so that was the mission as soon as Sunghoon received the call from Allie, that the two of you had arrived at the party.

It's now or never. He thought. His hands were in his jeans pocket trying to camouflage his nervousness while he had Heeseung and Sunghoon by his side, waiting for the two of you to arrive, which didn't take long. Just like every party, Allie quickly found Sunghoon, consequently finding his friends too.

Jaeyun's eyes quickly found yours, without even needing to know where you were looking because, to his surprise or not, you were already looking at him. Your smile wavered a little, not knowing if he would ignore you again or treat you coldly like he had been doing for the past few weeks, and Jaeyun felt that as you approached Allie. Your eyes wavered, although they didn't leave his for a minute until you were finally close.

“Hey, we found you all” Allie smiled, hugging each one until stopping at Sunghoon, where she remained in her boyfriend's arms.

“We were waiting for you two” Heeseung sang, hugging you and then standing next to the newly embraced couple “How about we get a drink?”

“I think that's a great idea” Sunghoon sang, pulling Allie with him and hearing Heeseung's footsteps right behind.

Your eyebrows narrowed, your gaze confused because neither of the other two spoke much to you and only led Allie away. Not even she had talked that much to Jaeyun in the short seconds that the two of you had appeared. Your gaze followed where the three had disappeared and that made you even more curious, they didn't even bother to call the two of you.

Was this something between them or were your friends wanting to give you and Jaeyun some privacy? You didn't know and it made you apprehensive because after some time you were alone with him with no one around – besides the strangers from the party – so looking in his direction again was different this time.

“Do you—” your voice broke a little, nervous for the first time in Jaeyun's presence “Do you want to accompany them? They're going to drink and we—”

“No” he interrupted you quickly, praying to the heavens that he hadn't sounded rude in his tone or he wouldn't know what to do next. You just raised your eyebrows, surprised by the way he spoke to you. Jaeyun's tone had been nothing compared to his actions as he walked the few steps that separated the two of you, extending his hand to you. The small touch in your hands finally returns little by little. He slid his fingers between yours as calmly as he had ever done since the first time. You smiled involuntarily at that, your heart skipping a beat when Jaeyun's eyes landed on yours. “Let's get out of here.”

“What?” you asked. “Jake, we—”

“Please? Come with me.”

You knew a little about Jaeyun’s vulnerability. The sweet protests he made when there was an argument between his friends, or when he pouted because he couldn’t understand something about college. Even the way he messed up his hair when he was nervous was adorable. But you never thought that seeing him say please with those eyes would make you give in to anything for him.

Your nod was all he needed to grab your hand even tighter and walk to the kitchen door quickly. His friends were still busy preparing drinks without realizing that Jaeyun was standing there.

“Hey, idiots” he shouted enough to get Heeseung and Sunghoon’s attention. Allie smiled when she saw you behind him. “Don’t knock on my room door, or I swear to God I’ll kill you the second that happens.”

It was a short warning, but understanding enough to know that he had finally gathered the courage. Heeseung held back a scream when he saw you holding hands with Jaeyun, waving your free hand without really knowing what was happening, but praying that whatever he had thought of, could happen.

“What does Jake mean by that?” Allie asked as soon as you and him were out of sight, now looking at her boyfriend.

“We left the apartment for him and Y/n tonight” he said. “This kiss needs to happen.”

She laughed at the idea, not being able to believe that this was happening. This almost task force just to make a kiss happen. But she was happy that it would finally be fixed, because neither the boys nor her, could stand to see you and Jaeyun almost falling over because of this.

Arriving at the shared apartment had never been so torturous for him, even more so with you by his side and in silence the entire way back. Jaeyun knew you had countless questions about what was happening, perhaps focused on an explanation as to why he hadn't spoken to you so much in the last few weeks. But the truth behind taking you to his and his friends' apartment was now even more explainable. He wanted to look into your eyes, without interruptions, and be able to tell you that he couldn't stand another second without having to kiss you.

The same silence that stretched in the car was followed by the walk to the lobby of the building, the elevator, and, finally, the apartment where Jaeyun unlocked the door and let you enter first. Quiet and silent, dark and with the wind blowing against the window. That was how the environment was if none of the three boys were inside.

Turning to you after he locked the door, Jaeyun sighed slowly.

“Can we go to my room?” it was almost begged at his request, his voice wanting to scream, but it was as restrained as the desire he had to grab you right there. You just agreed, without protesting at all to his requests since you found him at the party. Although your mind made a few more notes to ask him later what was going on.

You followed Jaeyun with careful steps down the hallway, feeling the scent of masculine lotions mixing in the environment. There was a bit of Heeseung, Sunghoon, and Jaeyun everywhere. At least it was clean and smelled good, unconventional for any apartment where only boys lived. His friends were careful, at least that made you feel relieved.

When the two of you reached the door to his room, it was your turn to sigh, thinking about what awaited you while you were there with the boy. Even though it was his room, Jaeyun didn't let go of his gentlemanly manners and made way for you, his back against the frame and his hand on the doorknob to give you a better view of the room. It was cozy and so… Sim Jaeyun. You couldn’t explain it, but everything in that room was definitely him. From the frames and photos to the trophies and the bookshelf with things on display. Some medals and full bottles of liquor. One of the boys could have given him a gift and he didn’t even open it. You smiled at that, imagining that in the short time you had known him, Jaeyun was the one who drank the least among the boys.

“Sorry if this is all sudden, but—” his voice radiated to your ears, alerting you to the current situation you two found yourselves in. You turned to him, noticing how shy Jaeyun seemed inside his room. The click of the key locking the door didn’t scare you, especially because it wouldn’t be a threat to be locked in there with him regardless of how long the two of you spent. It could be a precaution while the two of you were alone “I needed this time with you.”

Slowly, Jaeyun approached where you were in the middle of his room. Your hands didn't have a clear path, a little nervous about what to do with them, so you left them at your sides and just watched him walk towards you. His head lowered and his eyes wandered all over the floor until he finally looked up at you.

“We're here now, aren't we?” you asked softly, the sound of your voice echoing through every fiber of Jaeyun's body and making him feel electric.

“We are” he said in the same tone, moving a little closer until there was finally no more space between you and him “Y/n…” Jaeyun tilted his head enough so that his height was no different from yours. The same slow ritual that was done before anything got in the way of the two of you. One of his hands slowly reached your face, pushing away any strand of hair that had been left there as you took the steps until you reached his room. His other hand went to your waist, holding you in front of him so that you had no chance of escaping.

You didn't want to be left behind, you needed to touch him too, so your hands slowly moved up Jaeyun's chest until they grabbed the collar of the shirt he was wearing. Your fingers played with the fabric before one of them entered the shirt and held him by the shoulders. That touch made him shiver all over.

Jaeyun tilted his head to one side and you, like a rehearsed dance, tilted it to the other. There was no need for any conversation between the two of you to know what you both intended to do at that moment. Your lips curved into a small smile when your eyes met his, so close and bright to yours. Those eyes that were seen in every way were now staring at you with so much repressed desire that you wondered if you two might have been feeling the same thing.

His hand slid from your face to your jaw, slowly tracing the line until it went down to your neck and anchored between it and your shoulder. The perfect place. As if Jaeyun's hand was literally made to be there. He held you subtly until he brought your face closer, his mouth finally brushing against yours. You weren't ashamed of the groan you let out when his lips finally brushed against yours, feeling the softness that was his mouth for more seconds than you had ever felt before.

But nothing would be so easy for the two of you if it weren't for another interruption. Not so direct this time, but the honking of some son of a bitch on the street startled you and Jaeyun at that moment, almost making him hesitate and let go of you.

“Fuck off” he cursed without caring, not caring that his heart was still in a frenzy from the small scare and interruption. He wouldn't let anything else ruin that moment.

Without thinking about anything else, Jaeyun finally joined his lips with yours in a slow kiss, even though his desire was overwhelming. Pressing his mouth to yours and feeling the heat of your lips, he could melt at that very moment. Your mouth was as delicious as he thought it would be, and as you slowly opened it to let his tongue pass, Jaeyun wasn't ashamed of the pleasurable sound he made at the touch of your warm, wet muscle against his.

The kiss was slow, although loaded with an underlying desire that the two of you had been keeping for so long. Jaeyun's hand remained on your neck as your tongues played in sync, your mouths sliding against each other as if they were made to fit together in that kiss. Your hands slowly ran to his hair, pulling the small strands on the back of his neck as he slid his teeth along your lower lip, just in time to suck on the tip of your tongue before kissing you again with even more intensity.

A shiver ran through your body as his hands began to grope your sides, bringing you even closer and pressing your body against his. You could feel every muscle in Jaeyun's body tense at your touch, but relax as you and he intensified that kiss. You had both waited for so long that now you could die in each other's mouths if it were possible.

“Y/n” he moaned your name, sliding his mouth along your jaw and spreading a bit of shared drool across your skin. You didn't mind the sloppiness, it was turning you on much more than you could admit. Jaeyun found a space between your neck to scrape his teeth and suck a good amount of your skin in a slow hickey.

“Jake” you moaned back, your hands running over his shoulders and down his body until stopping at his hips. It was all involuntary, but you were unable to stop yourself and grabbed him by the waist to press his hips against yours.

“Holy shit” Jaeyun gave an even more passionate hickey on your neck, running the tip of his tongue to soothe your skin when you moaned in response. He wanted to apologize for the carelessness, but he didn’t know how to react to that “You’re going to drive me crazy doing this, for God’s sake” panting, he lifted his face to align with yours. His slightly sweaty forehead was now against yours, his breathing practically irregular as he opened his eyes to look at you.

Unreal. That was what Jaeyun was like after a full session of making out with you. His lips had become even more annoyingly beautiful when they were red and drooling with your drool. His eyes were dazed and downcast from your touches. His entire state in front of you was because of you. It made your panties feel wet.

“Sorry, I—” you sighed, your hands still on Jaeyun’s hips as you tried not to focus on his kissable mouth in front of you “You brought me here and, well… We…”

“I needed to kiss you” he blurted out. His mouth went down to yours again to slowly kiss you again. Jaeyun traced your entire lower lip with the tip of his tongue before feeling you sucking on the tip of his tongue like he had done to you before. That was going to kill him, for sure “I had to bring you here to do this because I couldn’t stand anyone interrupting us anymore. It got on my nerves and—”

Your laugh escaped softly. You looked at him and now reality hit you. It had all been part of a scheme he created so he could finally kiss you. Sim Jaeyun had made all that effort just for a kiss from you… It couldn’t be more perfect.

You leaned into him, your arms wrapping around Jaeyun's neck as you pulled him down and brought his mouth close to yours.

“Now we have plenty of time to do more than just kiss, Jake” you brushed the tip of your nose against him, feeling Jaeyun's breath hitch “What do you think?”

“Would you… Would you let me—” your nod was the confirmation he needed for this to happen. Not that he was intending to, especially since Jaeyun didn't even know if he would be able to kiss you. Let alone have you in his bed that same night. It was a bonus he wouldn't miss for anything in the world.

His heart was beating hard inside his chest, the sight of you slowly moving away from him as you walked backward to the bed was the most perfect sight he had ever seen. There was no way anything could disrupt that moment and he swore that if any noise made, or something happened, he wouldn't stop. There was no way. Nothing could take his focus away as your hands went to the hem of your shirt, slowly pulling it off and showing him the bra you were wearing. Jaeyun was left breathless by all of that. If you were perfectly covered up, without your clothes on he was thinking he might go crazy.

As your hands tangled in the waistband of your pants, he couldn't stay behind and started to undress himself too. Without taking his eyes off you, the eye contact was very vivid as each piece of clothing was discarded on the floor of his room. Neither of you wanted to waste a single second without looking at each other until you were completely naked.

Jaeyun approached, holding you by the waist and gently placing you on his bed. The mattress hugged you like a comfort while his body fit perfectly between your legs. His eyes traveled over every curve of your body, every little detail to record in his memory until he finally looked at your face. So close, so delicate, and at the same time breathtaking. It was then that he kissed you again. This time with a little more intensity than before.

He settled between your legs, one hand holding your hip while the other went to hold your chin, steadying your face as the kiss became hungrier. Tongues fought for dominance and a small trickle of drool ran down the corner of your mouth, but neither of you cared about that. Both you and he wanted to make up for lost time forget any disagreements with the outside world and focus only on each other.

Jaeyun's mouth separated from yours, thirsty to taste you in every corner. He wanted to know what you tasted like beyond the kiss he had been waiting for. Still holding onto your waist, he held your body in place as he trailed his lips down your chin, trailing a teasing path of drool and hot breath against your skin. Down to your collarbone, where his tongue made a longer path up to the top of your breasts.

You moaned his name so beautifully that Jaeyun never thought his cock could vibrate so much because of a sound. It was pathetic for him to admit, but he would say if anyone asked, that you had been the only person on the face of the Earth to get that from him.

“You are simply unreal to me” he whispered against your skin, licking up your chest and down to your nipple. He circled the tip of his tongue and sucked on the sensitive bud.

“Fuck, Jake” you grabbed his hair, almost crushing the boy’s face into your chest. His mouth made a warm place against your nipple as he sucked slowly and deliciously. The sucking made you even wetter.

He smiled against your breast as he gave the other one his due attention, bringing his hand to the one that was already containing his drool to squeeze the soft flesh between his fingers. There was no way you could go any further for that man between your legs. You wanted to pull out every strand of Jaeyun's hair for the little provocation, even more so every time you moaned his name softly and he made sure to suck on your nipple a little more.

Jaeyun's mouth went down between your breasts this time, running his drool over your skin up to above your belly button. He circled the tip of his tongue there, looking up to meet your closed eyes and delighting in the sensation.

“Eyes on me, Y/n” he asked softly, his mouth blowing hotly above your pussy when he finally aligned his head down there. You didn't know if you were able to see him in that state, but if he was unreal kissing you, what was sucking you? There was no way to know that if you didn't look. So you just obeyed him, opening your eyes and finding him looking at you “I promise I’ll be quick, I just need to taste you.”

You don’t even know why you nodded at his request and much less why he wanted to taste you, but you wouldn’t be crazy enough to stop him. Not when the tip of his tongue touched your clit so slowly. As hot as when he touched your nipple.

“Shit— Jake, what…” you moaned once more, a little more prolonged when he stretched out his tongue and licked a large stripe on your pussy. Collecting your essence with the tip of his tongue.

Jaeyun licked your pussy as if he was kissing you in the mouth. Each pass of his tongue through your inner lips and each circle on your clit was another reason to make you moan even louder, intertwining your fingers in the dark strands of his hair and controlling yourself with the urge to push your pussy against his face. It was surreal the way Jaeyun was eating you. The alternating between fast and slow licks, circling your needy hole that was clenching around almost nothing, was too much for you to handle.

And he felt it. Jaeyun felt every contraction of your entrance as he passed the tip of his tongue, circling the area and feeling your taste even more. It was addictive. Like everything about you was. He held his hands on your hips as you fixed your fingers in his hair, slowly letting you ride his tongue as he left the muscle erect for you to delight yourself as you pleased. He wanted you to feel pleasure on his tongue at that moment, although Jaeyun was already feeling his cock ache, pressing it against the mattress of the bed.

“Jake” your voice brought him back to reality as you rubbed your pussy on his tongue, Jaeyun taking the break between keeping it still and, sometimes, sucking on your clit when he felt your pussy descend completely into his mouth “I’m going to cum—”

“No” he stopped quickly, lifting his head from your pussy to look at you.

Jaeyun’s chin was covered with all your juices in addition to the amount of saliva he deposited while sucking you. Your eyes didn’t leave his face for a second as he lifted his body so that his face was close to yours again.

“I said I just wanted to taste you a little, you’re not supposed to cum right now” he sighed, his breathing still fast from being so fixated on your pussy that he almost forgot to breathe. You smiled tiredly at him, even though you weren’t even halfway through what the two of you were going to do.

“Why not?” you pouted, feeling Jaeyun settle between your legs and your hands quickly ran up to his face. Your thumbs ran over his chin, wiping away any traces of you or his mouth, even though your scent was still there. He leaned in a little more, capturing your lips in a slow kiss. The slow sharing tried to calm the nerves between the two of you for what was about to happen.

Neither you nor Jaeyun were nervous about this, just apprehensive about the fact that it would be your first time with each other. The kiss had been magnificent. Everything had been perfect so far, and he wanted this to end up being perfect too. So, slowly, he brought one of his hands to his cock and held it firmly. He ran the head of his cock all over your wet and drooling pussy, wanting to collect as much essence as he could so that his entrance inside you wouldn't be painful.

After a while he finally managed to do that, the head of his cock circled your hole and, carefully, Jaeyun inserted himself inside you little by little. The slow burn of his cock makes your hole mix in pain and pleasure. He filled you with every inch since he entered and you don't remember anything having filled you as well as the few seconds of Jaeyun's cock inside you.

“Because I want you to cum on my cock” he lowered his face into the crook of your neck, pressing his lips close to your ear and with a shit-eating grin on his face even though you weren't seeing it.

Jaeyun's hands went to your hips, using them as leverage to start thrusting into you. Starting the slow and sensual movements, moving his hips to a point where he could go all the way deep inside you and slowly pull it out. The coming and going of each veiny inch of his cock inside your walls only gave more fuel to your moans with his name and your hands desperate to touch something. The target this time was Jaeyun's bare back where his nails dug in as he began to pick up the pace.

“You feel so good— Fuck” he groaned as he thrust hard for the first time. Your groan almost made him back out and apologize because he was so lost in the pleasure that he didn’t even ask if he was hurting you. But as soon as he heard your groan and felt your nails burn on his back, Jaeyun knew he was doing the right job.

“Jake!” your hands ran up to the back of his neck, sliding to Jaeyun’s face and holding him facing you. It got even more intimate as he thrust a little harder into your pussy. “Don’t… Don’t stop, please.”

“I don’t plan on doing this, baby” he was panting, his cheeks flushed and his lips even redder. God, you couldn’t cum just from that sight, you had to pull yourself together with this.

Jaeyun felt the encouragement in your eyes and your words as he watched your mouth part and the hold of your gaze each time he went deeper into you. His balls slapping against your pussy made the wet noise between your legs even more erotic as it accompanied your moans and his. The slaps on your skin were getting faster and louder as Jaeyun's hips gained strength to go deeper inside you.

He was stretching you too much, your pussy getting wetter and wetter as he went deeper. The head of his cock nudging your spongy spots so well and rubbing against your tight, sensitive walls.

You pulled Jaeyun's face close to yours, your mouths inches apart sharing each other's breaths and swallowing the moans you both spilled without caring about each other's names.

“You're going to cum with me, aren't you?” he whispered against your mouth, outlining your lower lip with the tip of his tongue. You only moaned in response and Jaeyun thrust deeper, earning a scream from you when his cock hit your cervix. His hand slowly grabbed your throat and he lifted your face, although you two still had your mouths close to each other.

“I want to cum all over your cock, Jake” you replied, your hand circling his fist that still had his hand on your throat. Jaeyun didn’t apply any pressure to the spot, but having you at his mercy like that was already creating countless scenarios for next time.

Unconsciously his thumb slid over your lower lip, seeing how red your mouth was from the whole session you two shared. In an act of lust and excitement, you circled the tip of your tongue on his finger, putting it inside your mouth.

“Holy shit—” he moaned.

“Faster, Jakey” your pleading eyes and your voice muffled by his thumb were too much for Jaeyun to handle. And Jakey? That had never been said to him, and even more so in such a sensual way and with such a delicious moan that it made his hair stand on end.

He felt something rush into his blood at the combination of your lips sucking on his thumb and your pussy sucking on his cock in equally delicious and wet ways. Jaeyun was feeling on cloud nine having you like this. His hips rocked even harder, using his free hand to support the side of your hips and gain even more momentum to slam mercilessly into your pussy. The slaps on your skin burned his pelvis each time he met your drooling pussy hard. His cock being swallowed deliciously by every wall of yours.

“Oh, fuck” your lips slipped from his thumb as Jaeyun hit you deep again, his pussy-covered cock filling you in every corner. He decided to abandon his hand from your mouth to replace it with his own, feeling your hips stutter as his cock pulsed violently inside you.

“Can I—” he whispered, lips hovering over yours in ragged breaths as the sweat and sheen of Jaeyun’s skin reflected in his eyes. “Can I cum inside you?” he asked so gently, unlike the relentless movements of his hips slamming against yours.

“Please” your moaned plea was enough for him, there was no way to push Jaeyun’s buttons any further like that.

So he focused on kissing you again, sharing the movement of your tongues frantically as he drank in all your moans as his hips gained strength against yours again. Jaeyun’s heavy balls slapped against your clit with each thrust, the hot sound of wetness between the two of you and that was when he lifted your body a little as he pulled your hips that aligned the perfect angle. You felt your entire body tremble as the knot in your stomach broke and you came. So hard and intense, squeezing the walls of your pussy and almost making Jaeyun stop thrusting into you.

But he wouldn't give up, and as you came and squeezed him, it was too much to take. He moaned your name loudly followed by the curses he could remember as he emptied his load of cum inside you. Feeling your walls milk his cock as the jets of cum bathed your walls in a thick, hot white.

Jaeyun could still feel your walls convulsing around his still throbbing cock and spilling the last drops. The two of you stayed still in that position for some time. Countless minutes if you were to notice, but the feeling of still being like that was surreal.

“I think…” he breathed deeply, his mouth still close to yours breathing the same air as you. Rough and warm, irregular and comforting “We need to clean up.”

He didn't want to hear your protests, although he wanted to stay there and he knew that if he pulled out quickly, it would make both you and him sensitive. Then, carefully, Jaeyun pulled his cock out of your pussy with a hiss, earning a moan from you at how empty you felt. The sight of your hole leaking from how much he came could make him jump you for a second round, that wouldn't be a bad idea. But he had to be rational and try one thing at a time. At least for now.

So quickly, running to the bathroom, he grabbed a towel and wet it before wringing it out and only dampening the cloth. Running back to the bed to clean up the remains of his and your sex as carefully as he could. Wearing the towel in the laundry basket before getting back into bed with you.

“Hey, Y/n” Jaeyun whispered your name as he lay down next to you, pulling your body close to his and snuggling you against his bare chest. You grunted softly, feeling the tiredness take over every fiber of your body, but gathering some energy to lift your face and rest your chin on his chest.

“Yes, Jakey?” you smiled slowly, the redness on your face still evident and Jaeyun felt his heart pound even more at that. You looked beautiful in every way.

“Thank you for that, it was so…” he sighed “Amazing, seriously. Thank you.”

“You were amazing at everything, you know that?” you lowered your face to kiss his chest, moving his aching body up just enough for your mouth to be close, kissing him slowly there “I thank you.”

“Let’s thank the universe for conspiring in favor of this, then” he smiled against your mouth.

“Finally. Thank you, universe” you smiled too, kissing him back before feeling Jaeyun’s arms around your waist to make you lie down next to him. Snuggling you a little closer and enjoying the moment that the two of you should have had a long time ago.

Because both of you would enjoy the truce that the universe gave you two, after all, you and Jaeyun deserved it. Nothing else conspiring against what you and he should have had from the start.

#enhypen #enhypen smut #jake smut #jaeyun smut #enhypen jake #enha smut #jake fluff #jaeyun fluff #jake x reader #enhypen x reader #enhypen fluff #enhypen hard hours #jake hard hours #jaeyun hard hours #enha fics #enha fluff #enhypen masterlist #enhypen imagines #bay writes.

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pathologicalreid · 2 months ago

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what goes bump in the night | s.r.

in which Spencer's struggling with violent nightmares after prison, and you find yourself on the receiving end of his tossing and turning

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: angst content warnings: reader gets whapped in the face. don't like don't read, please. blood, prison arc, black eye, a lot of guilt. therapy. word count: 1.89k a/n: (this wasn't a request but shout out to the anon who told me i had to repost this after i deleted it) this is some dark shit but i have to admit i do think about the possibility a lot. take care while reading my loves.

Several years in the BAU had inadvertently trained you to wake up at any slight movement or noise. While some might call it paranoia, you considered it to be a finely tuned skill.

Spencer didn’t sleep talk before prison, and even now, he only mumbled in his sleep when he was having a nightmare. Normally, he didn’t move, he just tossed his head around and begged for whoever he was seeing in his nightmare to just hold on. Tonight was different, he sounded like he was pleading for someone to leave him alone, and he was thrashing more than usual.

You knew there was a risk of waking him, but you reached out and gently shook his shoulder anyway. “Spence,” you whispered, not wanting to hurtle him out of his darkened dreamscape.

There was no response. No sign of him coming even close to waking up.

His thrashing became worse, and his mumbling became even less intelligible like something was covering his mouth in his dream. Reaching out from your side of the bed, you tried to grab his hand, hoping it would be something that he could use to ground himself. Gripping his hand, you said his name again, more forcefully this time.

The pain didn’t even register at first. The first thing you recognized was the sensation of having something stuck in your eye, a small twinge in the outer corner that sent your hands flying to the side of your face.

Oh.

With your uninjured eye, you looked up to see Spencer, awake. Breathing heavy, sure, but awake. Very slowly, his breathing slowed, but he had seemingly forgotten that he was sharing a bed with you until you felt liquid trickling from your nose and scrambled to the bathroom before you got blood all over the sheets.

His wide eyes followed your shadow through the bedroom, putting the convoluted puzzle pieces together as he came out from under his nightmare-induced fugue state only to find a different type of panic. You faintly heard him curse and rustle the sheets as you shut the bathroom door harder than you intended.

You looked at yourself in the mirror, your right eye was tearing up as a result of the impact, and your nose was trickling blood down your face. Grabbing a wad of tissues from the box on the counter, you pressed them to your nose, blinking the tears from your eyes to the sound of your heart beating through your chest.

Spencer knocked on the bathroom door, followed by a larger thud that you assumed was him leaning his head against the door. “Can I come in?”

You tried not to sniff, hating the sensation of your nose being covered, you responded, “It’s your bathroom.” Your tone was far too blasé, and Spencer was going to see through it immediately.

“That’s not what I asked,” he told you, a slight tone of desperation ringing through. You knew what he wanted to know; he was asking if you were comfortable with him being in the same room as you – if you’d feel safe with him in the same room as you.

Leaning your head back, you took as deep of a breath as your body would physically allow you before you answered, “Yeah, you can come in.”

Before you had even finished speaking, Spencer had opened the door to the bathroom, letting the light stream into the bedroom, “Fuck,” he murmured when he saw you, “Hey, don’t lean your head back. You don’t want the blood to run down your throat.”

“Okay,” your voice quavered, watching him lift his hands like he wanted to guide your head down until he realized he didn’t know what to do with his hands – he couldn’t bring himself to touch you. Leaning over the sink, you let coagulated blood fall from your mouth, watching it go down the drain before you looked up at Spencer, who watched on in horror at the mess he had created. “Can you grab more tissues?” You asked him, giving him a job to busy his idle hands.

Instantly, Spencer grabbed a handful of tissues and held them out for you, within your range of motion. Still leaning over the sink, you took the new tissues and held them to your nose, haphazardly dropping the soiled tissue in the basin beneath you. “I don’t… What-“

Cutting him off, you spoke, “Do you still have those ice packs? The first aid ones from last year,” you made a new request, giving him a job to perform so that he wouldn’t apologize to you. He’d apologize until he was blue in the face, but you still wouldn’t know how to respond.

He nodded, crouching in front of one of the cabinets and filtering through a first aid kit, hoping to produce a disposable ice pack for you to place near your eye. With the timidness of a newborn foal, Spencer set the plastic on the counter next to you.

Your boyfriend watched as you carefully peeled the tissues from your face, checking to see if the bleeding had stopped, only to quickly replace the tissue when you noticed a trickle of fresh blood making its way down your philtrum. “Aren’t you supposed to pinch it or something?”

“Yes, you can pinch the bridge of your nose to staunch the bleeding,” Spencer said, grabbing your discarded Kleenex and putting them in the garbage bin. He watched intently as you reached up your free hand to pinch your nose, “Does… does it hurt?”

Giving him a quick shake of the head, you met his eyes through the mirror, “I don’t think it’s broken,” you told him, avoiding answering most of his question.

He loosed a sigh of relief, “Thank god,” he murmured, keeping an eye on you as you wondered how terrified he must have been to invoke the name of a deity he didn’t believe in.

Once you were finally able to drop the last of the tissues in the sink, you were faced with an even worse reality. There was no way of escaping the black eye that you already had forming, the tender skin would be further marred with time. “I think it looks worse than it actually is,” you offered meekly, reaching to your side and grabbing the ice pack off of the counter. You popped the center of it before wrapping it in a towel that Spencer had set out for you.

Holding in a hiss as the towel touched your face, you allowed your eyes to wander across the rest of your body. Your shirt had drips of blood on it, but the larger issue was red encrusted all over your face. With the urgency of a sloth, Spencer took a different towel from the drawer and ran it under the tap, wringing it out before holding it up, “May I?”

“Yeah,” you breathed, thankful for your newly cleared airway as you extended your neck, giving him the access he needed to wipe the blood from your chin and neck. “Spence-“

“I’m so sorry,” he interjected, his movements faltering as he let his hand drop to your shoulder.

You shook your head, crinkling the icepack in your hand, you blinked rapidly, hoping to clear your vision. “It’s okay, I shouldn’t have grabbed you,” you told him, it was the truth. He had obviously been having a violent nightmare, and you grabbing him had likely triggered a fight or flight response.

Spencer sighed dejectedly, “I burst a blood vessel in your eye. I’m so…” his voice trailed off in the middle of his sentence, leaving you unsure whether he was going to apologize again or go off on a self-deprecating tirade. “I hit you,” he breathed, abruptly yanking his hands away from you, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have touched you.” Setting the washcloth on the counter, he put his hands up in surrender and stepped away from you.

Leaning against the bathroom counter, you wished for an inkling – anything you could say to him that would prevent his auto-villainization. “I wish you wouldn’t say it like that. Saying you hit me sounds so…”

“Wrong? That’s because it is,” he said harshly, and you could almost see the storm of self-loathing that was brewing in his mind.

Shaking your head, you adjusted your grip on the icepack before looking up at him, “but it makes it sound like it was intentional. You didn’t hit me, you… thwapped me.”

Spencer loosed a shaky sigh, “I’m not so sure that’s better.”

“Would you prefer bonked?” You proposed, looking at him and hoping for a small smile, but being disappointed when you were met with the same haunted expression. “It was an accident,” you insisted, reaching out your unoccupied hand and taking his hand in yours, “I am fine.”

He scoffed dismissively, “I should have had a better handle on myself.”

You frowned, “You were asleep, Spence. You couldn’t have had a better handle on yourself. It wasn’t on purpose, and you’re taking care of me now,” you told him softly.

“But you’re scared of it happening again,” he challenged you.

When he had come home, you knew he had been changed. Not necessarily for the better or for worse, but he was most certainly changed. You had heard everything in bits and pieces, what had happened in Millburn, what had happened with Cat, but nothing had prepared you for the harshness of your new reality. He was capable of harming others, but that didn’t mean you thought he’d hurt you again. “You’re disappointed in yourself, but you don’t believe you get to feel that way. You’re projecting onto me,” you told him, taking your hand back.

Spencer flinched back, “Don’t profile me.”

“You, Spencer Reid, would never knowingly lay a hand on me,” you insisted, you believed it. You believed it even if he didn’t believe it himself.

The two of you sat in an angst-filled silence before he stood up straight, gently starting to usher you into the bedroom. Handing you a t-shirt from your drawer to change into, you could see his internal struggle as he grabbed a pillow from the bed and made his way toward the door.

Despondently, your shoulders slumped forward, “Where are you going?” You asked softly, hating to watch him leave your shared bedroom over this.

“I’m sleeping on the couch. I’m gonna… I’ll try to set up a meeting with my therapist in the morning. I just…” his voice trailed off as he looked at you with wide, sad eyes, “You’re okay?”

Your heart ached at his voice as you nodded, opening your arms for him and letting out a sigh of relief when he returned to you for a hug. Reaching your free hand behind him, you rubbed his back comfortingly, “We’re going to make it through this, mark my words.”

He nodded in affirmation as he pulled away, “For my own peace of mind, I’ll sleep on the couch for a while.”

You accepted it, knowing that he needed to deal with this in his own way, he closed the door behind him, effectively leaving you alone. Laying back on the pillows with your icepack still clutched to your face, you sighed, wondering how long it had been since your boyfriend felt any semblance of peace of mind.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid angst #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic #criminal minds fic #criminal minds angst #spencer reid x fem!reader #written by margot

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fortunekookie07 · 4 months ago

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Are requests open? May I request a sylus x wife reader (not the mc) where she is afraid of him and feels like he doesn’t love her cause of his cold and intimidating nature. Then mc arrives and she’s hurt and shocked with how he treats her. Now convinced that he doesn’t love her and hates her she keeps her distance and sits alone everyday on the rooftop. Barely eating anything nor sleeping properly she lost the will and strength to sleep next to him and sleeps on the couch or on the rooftop (after she saw him pin down mc onto the bed ya know that scene) . Even starts to think of packing up and leaving telling herself to “prepare” whenever he divorces her.

But one time she gets kidnapped for bait and injured yet sylus hasn’t come for days so she tells her kidnappers “ it’s a waste of time cause sylus won’t come for me, i mean nothing to him , he was already planning to get rid of me. so you might as well kill me right now and save your breaths.” Not knowing that her husband overheard her when he entered before she passed out due to lack of food and exhaustion.

Did You Ever Love Me?

The day you married Sylus was the happiest day of your life. You had been by his side for 3 years. It wasn't the easy life you had once dreamed of, but this was the reality of the N109 Zone. Nothing was easy, and everything had a price.

You still remembered the day you had first met, what a blood bath that had been. Your family had been one of the most influential in the area. Having long established their authority when it came to weapons dealing. Only supplying top-notch weapons.

From a young age your father had made sure you knew the business, drsminf of having you take over. He taught you everything he knew. From the making of the orders, to quality check, and even materials secured.

That day it was your parents 25th anniversary and a big party was thrown for them. Business partners and friends were all invited to the event.

The only thing your father had not warned you about, was the extensive dangers of the N109 Zone. He'd tried to shield you from just how dirty the world could be.

A rival family had crashed the party with a seemingly endless group of thugs. Before anyone had realized what was going on, gunshots filled the air. People started screaming and running in a desperate attempt to get to safety. Pushing and shoving others out of their way as they went.

A stray bullet hit your arm and blood immediately started pouring from the wound. You grunted as the pain slammed into you and momentarily lost your footing just a another bullet whizzed past the air where your head had been seconds ago.

You heard your father calling your name and pushing through people trying to get to you. You could see your mother sitting on the ground near one of the stairs columns. She was tying a makeshift bandage around someone's leg. Trying to staunch the bleeding.

You felt like your life was running in fast forward as you watched your father continue to push through the crowd and then he suddenly stopped moving as his eyes widened and he looked down. Blood was blooming across the white shirt of his suit and staining the black jacket. In the center of the stain was a hole. You felt sick seing that hole pierced through his chest over his heart.

"Father!" Your scream rang over the gunshots and panic as you tried to run to him. The long him of your dress got stepped on and you fell to the floor landing hard on your side. Pain zipped through your body at the hard smack to the unforgiving marble floor.

You desperately fought to get to your feet as it finally seemed like the crowd was thinning out. Thankfully no one stepped on you or your clothes again. Just as you reached your father the gun shots stopped and the following silence seemed to bring the air of dread.

The scent of blood was strong, making you gag as your stomach heaved. You push the feelings back and reach out to the injury, hands shaking as you try to staunch the blood flow. He grunts with the pressure and his eyes open slightly. You start muttering words but even you don't believe what you are saying.

"It's ok father, we can fix this. I'll get help, the doctor will fix you right up and then everything will be ok." Tears arr pouring down your face as he smiles weakly. He reaches for your face, trying to touch your cheek. Just before his hand can touch you a great force yanks you back.

You scream out at the pain, pulling you scalp. A heavy fist has gripped your hair, yanking the strands hardly and then a voice is in your ear. "I'll blast a hole in your head if you move a muscle." The voice growled near your ear as he tightens his grip on your hair. Your cried our in pain and he just tugged harder, you bit back the second cry as hot tears rolled down your face.

His arm grabbed your hand and forced you to your feet, perking you to face the way he wanted. He kicked the back of your knees forcing you to kneel in front of a man. Tugging your head back as he allowed you to stare at the man clearly responsible for this entire plot.

Fear stuck you as a cold, malicious smile stretched across his heavily scarred face. His eye was like flat steel. No luster or shine to its grey depths. A scar cut through his left eye and down his cheek, going all the way down to his mouth. Burn scars were also intermingled on his face.

His eye itself was an ugly milky color, it held no pupil or iris. On the right side of his face three long jagged scars could be seen stretching from his ear down to his chin. Little tremors went through your body. This man had an overwhelming presence and the sense of evil wrapped around him like a cloak.

"Well, well, well if it isn't the little princess. Your father was careful to hide you away from me. Protecting his biggest weakness. I must say I do admire him for that."

In contrast to his appearance his voice was smooth, a slight rasp clung to his words. Whatever had attacked and scarred him had obviously affected his vocal cords. He worked it to his advantage, speaking in a way that soothed you on the surface. Even if his words were unsettling or foul.

He reached for you, his fingers and thumb just barely brushing your face when a loud caw shattered the silence. With the bird cry black and red mist began pouring into the wide space and the air got heavy. As if gravity itself was pushing down on everyone and everything in the room. The mist covered and hid everything in its path. Blinking you realized you couldn't see the man in front of you.

A deep, suave, sexy voice seemed to come from no where as helped had seemed to arrive. "It seems you did not learn your lesson. I don't mind teaching it to you agiain, Osric." The mist wrapped around him, holding him still. Footsteps tapped across the floor, the occasional sloosh as he stepped in a puddle. Your body shuddered, knowing exactly what liquid he stood in.

It took a few minutes before you realized that the man who had been gripping your hair was no longer touching you, or even anywhere near you.

The mist began swirling into the center of the room, right next to you. Looking into the mist you could just make out a tall silhouette. As rapidly as the mist had spread it was now retreating.

A tall well built man was standing right beside you. Silver hair carefully styled. Red eyes piercing and promising danger. The right one seemed to be glowing.

"You have some guts, touching something of mine, I don't take kindly to thievery. The man, Osric, was hoisted into the air with the mist. He gasped and sputtered clawing at the mist to no avail.

Two men appeared by your side then. One offered his hand, bit you hesitate. Both are wearing black crow masks with subtle red lines on the face of the mask and a red tipped beak. Two red horns poke through the hoods they wear and a gold ring is on one of them. The two are slim and tall, you can tell nothing of their appearance. Clothing and masks make it impossible to discern any identifying features.

The first guy is still holding his hand out to you, he seems neither impatient nor upset that you haven't accepted it yet. Finally seeing no consequence to taking his offered hand you lightly place your palm in his. He gently but firmly grasps your hand and assists you in standing. He let's go after you are steady on your feet and positions himself at your side. The second does the same on your right. Like they are bodyguards.

"Screw you Sylus"! Osric sputters out, still trying to break free of the mist. His fingers are bloody from his efforts to free himself. "Luke, Kieran, see to it that she comes to no harm." The silver haired man says as he squeezes his hand. The mist constricts around Osric further cutting of his air flow completely.

One of the two lightly grabs your arm and spins you around just as a sickening crunch reaches your ears. This kind of thing happened a lot here. Those with power ruled over the weak. It was nothing new.

You had long grown accustomed to the way Sylua dealt with traitors and rats. He did not tolerate disloyalty and gave no second chances.

The events of your parents 25th anniversary party had happened five years ago. You often wondered how your life would have gone if you had never accepted his hand when he gave it. Your father had been supplying weapons to Sylus' organization for years. He'd apparently stuck some kind of deal with Sylus, that had involved your protection.

Sylus had married you, per your father's request and now he owned almost half of your family business. Haven acquired your mother and father's shares. He'd left yours to you.

At first you'd been absolutely terrified of him. His aura radiated danger, almost like he was a living grim reaper. He so often came back to the manor covered in blood. The twins were his direct subordinates. They followed his every command quickly and without hesitation. But at least they had a personality and could provide a sense of calm.

It had taken almost a year before you could approach Sylus without feeling nervous. You hadn't been able to understand your fear of him. He'd posed no restrictions on you, didn't make any ridiculous demands and had never threatened you with harm of any kind.

The turning point had been the day he'd come home injured and concern over his bleeding wounds had overrode the fear. Despite his insistence that he didn't need any first aide treatment, Sylus had not pushed you away or tried to stop you from cleaning his wounds.

After that he began spending time with you and talked to you. Before you knew it you looked forward to when he would come home and just talk to you for awhile. These little gestures and act of kindness had resonated in your heart and little by little you felt yourself falling for him.

He'd granted your request to be touched by him and he spent a night with you. Thinking that he too had given his heart to you, you lived your days believing that he loved you back. That was until she appeared.

In an instant his entire demeanor changed. He made her his top priority. Spending any and all time he had with her. Most nights he didn't even come to your room anymore. His side of the bed was often unspent in.

You hadn't officially met her yet, only seen her in passing. She was beautiful. Long dark hair hung in neat and straight lengths down to her very slender waist. Piercing eyes almost the shade of jade framed by thick dark lashes. She was on the shorter side, even you were taller than she was. This woman held some kind of connection with your husband and the knowledge that your place was very quickly being stripped away gnawed at you from the inside.

Wandering aimlessly through the manor one day you discovered the ladder that lead up to the roof. Even though it was cold outside, you still sat there on the roof. Wondering how long it would be before you were forgotten completely.

Despite the cold and the swirling snow, you dozed off hugging your arms to your sides. What seemed like minutes later you were woken up by a piercing light. The sun was beginning to sting your eyelids, squinting against the harsh glare of the sun's first rays of the day, you tried to sit up straight. Your whole body was numb and cold. It took several minutes to rub feeling back into your fingers.

Carefully moving away from the edge of the roof you stood up. Your legs shook from the movement. Having been in the same position for too long, they had gone to sleep.

You did some light stretches and gradually the shaking and numbing little stings subsided and you felt more sure on your feet.

Finally you made your way to the roof latch, having left it open all night there was a pile of snow at the base of the ladder and it was freezing cold to the touch.

You descended the ladder and walked around the manor. It was quiet, most everyone was asleep at this time. Feeling the desire to see Sylus, you turn around and head to his room. He was usually there at this time. You hesitate at the door. Whenever you'd come to his room he was usually accompanying you.

Just as your about to knock, a voice addresses you from behind. "He's not here, Sylus went out for work. I've been waiting for him to return since last night." Turning around, you see that woman. Feeling angry for a reason you can't quite grasp, you turn around

and storm by her. Purposely bumping into her on the way by. She stumbles but you keep going.

Your sour mood lingers throughout the day killing any appetite oyi might have had. Your wandering leads you back to the roof and you sit in the same spot from the night before.

From your spot on the roof, you can hear his motorcycle approach the manor and you sit their contemplating what to do. Finally after another two hours you head back to his room. When you get there the door is adjacent and you silently push it open. You feel your heart stop.

There on the bed is Sylus on top of her. She's pinned down and it's very obvious what is going on. His naked back is to you and her equally naked leg is wrapped around his waist. Their kiss is intense that you feel your heart break. His hand is twined with hers and pinned above her head. You back away and run down the hall and go to the roof.

Hot tears are streaming down your face as you realized that Sylus had never loved you. He'd just been indulging you for the last several years because you were useful. He could even hate you for all you knew. The one he truly loved was currently tangled with him on his bed.

You feel your heart break further as you realize that with no family or friends you have nothing. You had only ever been useful to Sylus because of you family's business. That was not love and never could be.

You cry yourself to sleep on the roof again, completely defenseless and unaware of the eyes watching you. When you wake up again, there's a dull ache in your head and a ferocious growl in your stomach, but you have no desire to eat or even move.

You sit there watching the stars for what seemed like days. Eventually the sky begins to lighten as the sun begins its ascent across the sky. You continue to sit, even as heavy clouds roll in. Another snowfall is coming, you remembered from the weeks forecast you had read a few days ago. But still you don't move.

It's only when the wind cuts through you, chilling you to the bone that you get up. Once again you rub feeling back into your frozen limbs and head down the ladder. You avoid your room and his. Just the thought of sleeping in a bed you had shared with him makes your stomach turn. Your entire body burns with the feeling if betrayal, but you can neither act on it or alleviate it. The feeling simmers in your stomach driving away the need for food.

Eventually you end up on the couch. The warmth from the fire burning in the hearth slowly warms you up and a drowsy feeling over comes you. Stretching out and pulling the throw down over you, you manage to drift off into a restless sleep.

After what feels like minutes, your body is shaken awake. It's that woman again, hate burns through your veins. You want to tear her apart and rip her to shreds. You glare at everything.

"Hey, the cook said you didn't eat dinner. So I brought you some food" She offers the plate to you. It's all your favorite things. A light fruit salad with beautifully cut fresh fruit and a stack of golden waffles topped with whipped cream and raspberries. Your anger overtakes you and you sit up and shove the plate away from you. She's so surprised at this action that she stumbles back, dropping the plate as she does. The delicate China shatters on the floor as the fruit scattered and the waffles sit there on top of the broken peices.

She looks at you with hurt on her face. "Why did you do that?" She asks just as Sylus enters the room. He looks annoyed at the mess on the floor. Concern overtakes him as he comes closer. Of course none of it is for you, she's the only important one in his eyes. A shard of the plate had bounced of the floor and put a cut on her arm. She had a line of bright red blood blooming out from the slice.

"Did you really think I would accept anything from YOU?" You spit the words at her like venom and stand up. "I know your not so stupid as to be unaware that Sylus is my husband." Your words are as cold as the ice outside. Red blooms across her face as realization strikes her.

You turn to leave the room and just as your about to step into the hall something grabs your arm and yanks you back. Your head whips around and your suddenly face to face with Sylus angry expression.

"She is my guest, you will treat her with respect. Don't lay your hands on her again." You rip your arm from his grasp. "You must think I'm an idiot. She's getting a hell of a lot more than hospitality from you. I owe her NOTHING. She is nothing to me but a sneaky slut that wormed her way into a married man's bed. Both of you disgust me." You storm from the room. As you leave, you take notice of the twins. They are also watching you, but you do not care.

You return to your room and begin to make preparations. You're almost certain now that Sylus hates you. "Divorce is pretty much guaranteed." You say out loud to no one. As you look around the room you realize that nothing in it is truly yours. Everything had been given by Sylus after your marriage. "What a joke I am. I must be the biggest idiot in all of the world. I never should have married him. He was a complete stranger. What a fool!" You kick the dresser in anger, the pain just spurs you on.

After ripping the sheets off the bed and throwing them to the floor your anger had only increased. Grabbing the nearest object, your hurl it to the floor. Feeling satisfied as it shatters. You begin throwing things all over the room. In minutes the neat, beautifully decorated room is in shambles. Glass, sheets, books, jewelry, makeup, and nick-nacks are all over the floor. You turn and leave the disaster you made, making sure to slam the door as hard as you can on your way out. The paintings on the wall tremble from the force.

You storm through the manor headed for the stairs again. You don't recognize the lightheaded woozy feeling that has over come you and you feel dizzy as you reach the ladder that goes to the roof. Halfway up, your foot slips. Before you fall, in a burst of adrenaline you manage to grab the ladder securely. Your heart is beating out of your chest as you cling to the rungs. "That was too close," you mutter taking deep, steady breaths.

Undeterred, you climb the ladder anyway, resolute in seeking peace on the roof once more. It takes a lot more effort to climb up than it had in previous climbs. Your huffing and puffing by the time you manage to get up.

As you walk to the ledge and glance at the snow covered ground below, you realize something is off. The footsteps in the snow are not yours and since it had been snowing for hours, the ones from earlier would have long since been hidden under more snow.

You whirl around ad your mind screams danger. You hands fumble through your layers of clothing to grab the knife you always kept with you. It was a custom blade and designed to attach to your bra. Although it was small, it was very sharp and could easily cut and stab in defense. As your hand manages to grab the handle a figure appears from the top of the roof. He easily jumps down to where you are.

"To think that the infamous wife of Onychinus' boss would be so easy to get to. No bodyguard?" He asks in a taunting tone. The man is dressed head to foot in black. His entire body is covered save for his eyes. Black as a blank night sky and soulless. He points a gun at you. "Drop the knife, or I'll put a bullet in you right here." He says his finger twitching on the trigger.

Having been taught how to fight from a small age, you fein dropping the knife as he moves closer. Just as he's within reach you spin it around and drive it into his upper arm. Unfortunately he was prepared for your tricks and fires the gun. The bullet burries itself deep into your thigh. You cry out and collapse to the ground clutching the wound. Blood seeps between your fingers and down your leg. Falling upon the snow.

"You're going to regret that." The man says as he pulls the blade out of his arm and flings it to the ground. He reaches out and grabs you. You're enveloped in a blinding light and then everything fades away. Sight, sound, and feeling are gone.

It feels like you're floating in darkness for a long time. You struggle to move, bit something is restricting you're movements. A rattling sound is the first thing you can hear as your senses come flooding back. The pain slams into you again and you groan. You realize that you've been blindfolded with a thick cloth.

"She's finally awake. I would really like to know about that blade she stabbed you with. It really did a number on your arm. It must have been very sharp.

"Shut up and just do your job. The boss needs information and she's going to have it. He said do whatever it takes to get it out of her. Just don't kill her." A gleeful cackle made you shudder and then footsteps came closer to you.

"Darkness makes the pain more intense. You will tell me what we want to know." The man says and then you can hear metal being moved around. Your heart begins to race. There is nothing for you to tell them. Sylus had always made sure that you knew nothing of his business and plans. You had only ever overseen the production of weapons. You didn't know their purpose or intended use.

"I imagine I'll get away with it if I do kill you though. Osric was his brother just so you know. Boss has a personal grudge to pick with you and Sylus. This is going to be delicious. Let's begin. We'll start with something easy." He said and then you could feel him standing at your side.

Hours had passed since the torture had begun, but no matter what question he asked the result was the same. You didn't know.

He had tried a variety of methods to break you. The first had been pulling you fingernails our. It had been excruciating and you nearly passed out several times. The he had tried whipping you. Your back was a raw bloody mess from all the cuts. That had made you pass out. His ways of waking you up again were resolute. Dumping ice water on you seemed to do the trick.

Your mind felt like it was going to snap if this went on much longer. Your voice was raspy and hoarse from the hours of screaming and crying. At first you had tried to hold back, but this maniac had taken it as a challenge. Several times he had said you were boring him with your instant responses.

"You're n-not going to-o get any.. anything fro-om me. I have nothing to tell. Even if I wanted to." This was not the first time you had said those words. It's just they fell on deaf ears. "Ju-just kill me al-ready. I I'm useless to yo-ou. He-e doesn't ca-are about me. Ju-just end it already. I-I don't kn-ow anything." This went on for days. You knew time was passing but you had no idea how much until finally a different person entered the room.

"Boss is fed up with you. He wants to know why she hasn't spilled her guts yet. He's tired of waiting for what he wants to know. Can't believe three days and she hasn't cracked once." His voice sounded disappointed and uninterested.

You'd lost count of all the methods they had tried to get you to speak. Several times you had begged him to just kill you but he'd only laughed in response. Sleep had been allowed a few times and sips of water had been given.

They had never removed your blindfold, and you were glad that you could not see what had been done to you. Even if you could feel every injury, being able to see them would have made it ten times worse.

Just as he was getting ready to start again, the door was blasted open. It sounded like it had been ripped right off the hinges. Chaos ensued with whatever had cause the door to explode, and the man started yelling.

"Who the hell are you? How did you get in here?" Crashes followed the words, and then a guttural sputter followed. Seconds later, you felt hands touching you, and you flinched, thinking that more pain would follow. To your surprise, the restraints on your arms and legs were removed, and then someone was carefully helping you sit up. A pair of hands touched the blindfold and then dim light hit your eyes. You screwed them shut feeling that it was painful.

Every part of your body hurt. Stinging and burning sensations were running rampant all over and you just wanted it to end. "We need to move." A familiar voice said in your ear. You open your eyes, ignoring the pain from the light and look at the voice. To your complete surprise Luke and Kieran are by your side.

"We've come to get you. Boss is so angry. I don't want to stick around here." The twins had their usual care free attitude as they watched you. "Why?" You asked looking at the pair. You could sense their confusion. "What do you mean why? You're Boss's wife. Of course he will take back what is his." One of them said as the other drapped a blanket over you and then carefully picked you up.

You grimaced and tried not to show the pain. "M-my leg is broken." You managed to get out between gritted teeth and gasps. They said nothing as they took you out the door.

Having never seen any of the place you were in, you were surprised at the twisting hallways and maze like route that you were taking. But the twins seemed undeterred and walked quickly. Before long there was a heavy metal door in front of you. It was all dented and it looked like an explosion had hit it. The door was already adjar and upon further investigation, you notice that it's hanging off the hinges.

Walking down another short hallway you come up into a large room. With a start you realize that blood is everywhere and there are bodies scattered through out the room. At the front leaning against a table is Sylus. He looks irritated and he has blood spattered on his face. He stands up straight when he sees you and the twins. His gaze hardens as he looks you over.

"Why did you come?" He looks at you blankly, his face giving nothing away. He just looks at you like he's staring right through you.

"Did you ever, even for one second love me?" You ask after several tense minutes go by. He still says nothing. Feeling the unsaid confirmation of what you had thought to be true now a reality you close your eyes against the tears.

A minute later and you open them again. "I am over this. I just want it to end. I don't care about anything anymore. I no longer want anything as I also posses nothing. You can have it all. I just want it to end." After letting go you feel like a weight has fallen off your shoulders. All the hate and resentment you'd felt several days ago has disappeared.

"Take her to the manor and contact the dr." Sylus finally says after many moments. The twins immediately move out. Despite their best efforts you get jostled several times and the pain makes you pass out. You surrender to unconsciousness, thankful to escape for however short a time it will last.

Over the next several months you are confined to bed to allow you injuries to heal. The scarring isn't as bad as you had though it would be, but it extends over most of your arms legs and back. The whip scars will never disappear and serve as a constant reminder to never show your back to anyone.

Eventually the day arrives that the dr tells you all of you injuries have healed and he discharges you from his care. Eight months have passed since that day and finally you are back on your feet. Having packed a bag with a few sets of clothes you grab the strap and the papers you had asked for a few days ago.

Without hesitation you go to Sylus' office and open the door. He is sitting at his desk reading some documents. You walk over and set two things down. One of them reads Transfer of Assets and the other says Annulment of Marriage. Placing a pen on top of it you say resolute "sign them and then you'll never see me again." You take a step back and wait.

He sets the papers down and looks at what you have placed on his desk with a raised eyebrow. "What is this?" You inwardly sigh. "Sinc you do not love me and I have no desire to play second fiddle to anyone else I am not staying. Clearly there is no place for me here. This is to repay the treatment I was given. You owe me nothing and I owe you nothing." You're confidant that with relinquishing your rights to your family's business and everything you endured being at his side will more than repay him.

He appears to be lost in thought as he reads over the papers. "You really want nothing in return?" The only thing you had asked for in the divorce agreement was that he not seek you out and that your paths never cross again. You nod and finally he moves to sign them. You turn on your heel and walk out of the door, out of his manor. This corrupt part of the city and out of his life forever.

A sense of peace washes over you as you get into your car and turn the ignition. Ready to begin your own life.

****************************************************

And thus ends another one. I did make some tweaks to the original plot line I was given because it flowed better in this way. I do hope you don't mind. I stuck to what you gave me as much as possible. I hope you enjoyed this one

Tag list:

@tom-pls-fuck-me

@barbuse @mariposa666haruka @cosmocup1d @xthefuckerysquaredx @bokerayboke

@ellieevu @prettytemis @bananagoesbonkers4 @dreamerwasfound @sweet2wth

@tanspostsblog @linxiajei17 @jeondyy @alexatiu

#love and deepspace #lnds #lnds sylus #love and deepspace sylus #request fic #annon asks #lnds x reader #love and deepspace x reader #long fic #angsty #angst with a neutral ending #angst #lnds mc

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becgenius · 3 months ago

Text

bolted - sylus x reader

three weeks after you had broken up with sylus, you run into each other at a gala. his issue, however, is the fact that you came with a date.

!! nsfw, smut, fem!reader, exes to lovers, pwp, 18+

!!! not set in l&ds universe, reader not mc, pet names, cursing, might be angsty idk, jealousy, semi-public sex, multiple orgasms, cunnilingus, mirror sex, dirty talk, teasing, hair pulling, creampie, unprotected sex, fluff if u squint really hard, lightly proofread

wc. 2.4k

reblogs appreciated!

nsfw under the cut. minors dni

For the months you were dating Sylus, every one of your Friday nights had been reserved. Your own weekly ritual of being dressed in matching designer brands and attending various events: corporate galas, charity balls, and black-tie parties, to name a few.

For the past three weeks, every one of your Friday nights has been spent alone, completely free of plans.

Three Fridays have passed since you have shown your face at the social gatherings you so frequently attended. Three Fridays have passed since you officially broke up with Sylus.

Admittedly not your wisest decision. Sylus was a man of endless wealth, influence, and power. Your own status in society is not at all insignificant; but there is a part of you that still feels inferior.

Because you heard the cruel gossip about your relationship behind your back: whispers of she doesn’t belong here and Sylus would be better off with me. Because you felt as though you were holding him back. Because you were scared that he would be the one to leave first. And though you love him, you left because he deserves someone better.

But for the first time in three Fridays, you finally allow yourself to regret leaving. You allow yourself to miss your comfortable routine: Sylus buying an entirely new outfit for you to wear, sneaking out of parties together long before they were set to conclude, and ending the night on your couch with whichever takeout meal and show fit your mood that night.

The only reason you have the strength to drag yourself out of your weeks-long slump now is because of the invitation you received not long ago from some gentleman in your network, asking you to accompany him to tonight’s event: a fundraising gala at one of the city’s many national museums.

Of course, you have absolutely no interest in entertaining the man who invited you, you only know for certain that you would see Sylus tonight.

It doesn’t take long for you to lose your date. As adamant as he was about getting you to go with him, he proved himself to be quite inattentive now that he had gotten your agreement.

You are by yourself now, in spite of the crowd of event-goers drifting around where you stand in the extravagant ballroom, moving from one conversation to another.

The heels you wear add a few inches to your height. Not enough, however, as you can hardly see over the head of whichever wealthy socialite is in front of you.

You’re embarrassed to acknowledge the growing disappointment brewing in your chest as you fail to spot a familiar head of white hair.

Never mind the embarrassment of admitting that you are here for Sylus in the first place. You were the one that ended things, after all. What would you even say to him if you do happen to run into one another? Maybe seeing him would be enough. Enough for what? This was a bad idea, you begin to think.

That is, until you are suddenly very aware of Sylus’ presence.

It is first the undeniable heat radiating from something, someone, behind you. It’s then the penetrating scent of bourbon and cinnamon invading your senses. Rather, the scent of trouble.

“Looking for someone, Kitten?” It is finally his rich, husky voice that breaks through the crowd. Your heart skips a beat.

You don’t give him the satisfaction of turning to face him just yet. “I’m not your kitten.”

“Oh? But you are, don’t forget.” His voice becomes dangerous, and his sly hand sneaks itself around your waist from behind, “Done running away from me yet?”

Sighing, you turn, simultaneously facing him and shifting just enough to make his hand slip away.

“What do you want, Sylus?”

"You've always given me so much attitude.." He ignores your question. If he notices the desperation in your tone, he doesn’t show it. “Are you having fun going about your night with your arm around that moron?”

“He’s not a moron. And yes, I’m having plenty of fun, not that it’s of your concern.” You don’t know why you feel the need to defend your date or why you feel the need to lie to Sylus. After all, you weren’t having fun.

“Lies,” he immediately accuses. “Do not think that I have forgotten what you look like when you are being dishonest with me. Especially when you are doing so in an outfit that I bought you myself.”

The low purr of his voice easily sends shivers down your spine. He had gotten nearer as he spoke, his face now mere inches from your own, his eyes bearing into yours.

“Everything you do concerns me.” He comes impossibly closer, speaking directly into your ear now. “Besides, anybody here can tell, Sweetie, you are too out of that idiot’s league. Not your wisest decision.”

Sylus is right. No one can miss how your date’s eyes unfocus, zoned out, whenever you speak. Or how he never introduces you when he goes to greet the other party guests. He hadn’t even noticed you leaving his side and blending into the crowd just moments ago.

“I could say the same for you.” You counter. He pulls back, curious, “you don’t seem all that interested in your date either, and she’s your type, isn’t she.”

You don’t hide the fact that you’ve seen the various magazine articles and social media posts, all featuring Sylus and the new woman by his side as the main image. She’s obviously gorgeous. And, you discover with a quick web search, is also from an extremely well-off family with much more influence than you could imagine.

Though you hadn’t seen her tonight, you don’t need to be a genius to figure out that Sylus is here with her tonight as well.

“I have no romantic feelings towards that woman, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“But you’re still here with her.”

“She isn’t you, you know.”

“I didn’t know that mattered.”

Now it’s his turn to sigh at you. His turn to be the defeated one.

“Come home, Y/n,” his voice nearly begging as he gets straight to the point, “it’s always been you.”

How could you bring yourself to deny him like this?

You don’t know if it was Sylus’ persuasiveness or your own willingness to go back to being his that brought you to where you are now: locked inside one of the museum’s many private restrooms, the noises of music and chatter from the party now a distant murmur.

You’re also: bent over the bathroom’s sink, thanks to Sylus, with the skirt of your dress hiked up to your waist and your underwear pushed down around your knees.

“Sylus,” you whine, your legs feel weak with each lick he makes to your pussy.

“Keep still.” He commands, tightening the grip on both of your thighs that both kept you in place aa well as spread out for him.

“You taste so fucking good, Baby.” He doesn’t move away to speak and the breath from his hot mouth stays directly on your cunt as he does so, the heat eliciting a loud moan from you.

His tongue fucks into your hole from where he is crouched behind your open legs. The squelch of your arousal on his tongue and your moans fill the quiet atmosphere of the bathroom.

You feel him chuckle behind you before feeling the cold air hit your wet core at the sudden loss of contact.

“Y’know, for someone who was just playing so hard to get, you’re really enjoying this aren’t you, Kitten?” He teases, and though he stopped eating you out, his hands keep their position on your thighs, massaging them up and down.

“Shut up.” You push yourself back so that you were practically sat on his face. He, thankfully, doesn’t object and gives your clit some much needed attention, sucking hard.

You can feel your climax sneaking up on you and so can Sylus, recognizing the way your moans got breathy and the way you clenched around him when he inserts his fingers into you, intensifying the pressure between your thighs.

He continues sucking your clit, lightly grazing his teeth on your sensitive bud. The stimulation startles you at first, he’s never done this before, but it soon turns into euphoria as the pain mixes with pleasure.

It all becomes too much for you and your walls finally come crashing down on Sylus’ tongue. He takes you through your orgasm, making it last as long as possible, until you couldn’t hold yourself up any longer.

He’s quick to get up on his feet behind you. You immediately come to his understanding and slouch against him, letting him hold up all your weight.

“Look at us,” he gestures to your reflections in the mirror. You’re a mess: your dress straps cling to your upper arms and your face is covered in bliss. Sylus nonetheless towers tall behind you, annoyingly put together as he always is. “It’s like nothing ever changed between us, hm?”

You have to agree with him. The sight is not new to you, and you’re overcome with a sense of fondness for all the times you’ve stood like this before.

On the outside, your physical states are pure opposites. However, you know that right now, Sylus is as aroused as you are. You’re suddenly aware of the fact that he has yet to come.

Still in your post-orgasmic haze, you try your best to reach behind you to where you assume his crotch is.

“Already can’t get enough, Dear?” He teases you but even so, he moves back and pulls out his dick from his pants, simultaneously guiding your body so you’re bent over in the same position you were previously in and sliding his erection between your folds from behind.

“Relax. You can take it,” he coos before slamming into your walls without warning.

“Sylus!” You gasp at the intrusion. It’s a miracle that you even have the effort to scream his name, it was as if all your breath was taken away.

“Still so goddamn tight as I remember, Sweetie, I thought I told you to relax?” He begins to hammer his dick into your pussy, not sparing you and your sensitivity at all. You squeeze your eyes shut, and your moans and yelps with each thrust fill the room.

“Sy, ‘s too much!”

“You can handle it. After all, you wanted this.” His tip finds your g-spot and hits it at that same brutal pace. “Are you still thinking about that asshole that you came here with? Hm? Even as im fucking you like this? Have you forgotten him yet?”

In the midst of being fucked, it takes you a second to figure out what, or who, he’s talking about. The truth is that you had forgotten all about the other man once you entered the seclusion of the bathroom you are now in. You don’t get a chance to reply before he continues.

“Can he fuck you like I do? Do you think of me when he’s this deep inside of you?”

Your eyes widen at the crudeness of his words.

“I- never- we don’t-!” You’re quick to deny his accusations, albeit struggling to get the words out between moans.

“Spit it out, Princess. Are you saying he doesn’t fuck you at all?” His hips smack against yours, hard this time. “Or are you saying that his dick can’t go deep like mine can?”

As he interrogates you, a hand reaches down between your thighs and begins circling your clit. The stimulation is all too much, and you’re still unable to properly speak.

“Sylus-”

He takes a fistful of your hair and nudges your head up, forcing you to face the incriminating scene reflected in the mirror. “Answer me.”

You watch yourself shake your head rapidly, still being held up from your hair. “No! It’s not like that.. He and I never did it..”

“Oh yeah?” He still has the same smirk from earlier in the night on his face, but now his eyes are shrouded in a devious darkness. “That’s a good girl. If I had found out that he fucked you I might’ve had to kill him.”

He snorts, seeing your shocked expression. “I’m kidding sweetie,” he clarifies. Sylus then lets go of his hold on your hair and your head falls forward with more of his thrusts. “Now keep being my good girl and come for me.”

The exchange is pushed to the back of your mind and you’re reminded of the physical situation that you’re in.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head as your whole body jerks up and down from bouncing back from his.

You uncontrollably spasm as you cream around Sylus’ dick, squeezing around him just right. Overstimulated, your jaw hangs open as screams burst from your throat. Afterwards, you become fully limp in his hold.

“Fuck. So fuckin’ noisy, huh? You’re doing so good for me, sweet girl..”

You feel the exact moment he reaches his climax. He thrusts himself one last time into your sore cunt before you’re filled with his cum.

You stay there for a while, neither of you bothering to move.

After what feels like hours of standing still, Sylus finally pulls out of you. And last moan escapes your lips as he does so.

He kneels, pulling up your panties from their bunched up state around your ankles to over your sopping hole before any semen could leak out.

“You think you can keep it inside until we get home?” He asks before leaving a kiss on your clothed cunt and standing to fix your dress, erasing any evidence of your sexual encounter.

“And when are we getting home, exactly?” You don’t comment on the fact that he said ‘home’ as if it was the same place for you. As if nothing had happened between you two. You don’t comment because you want both of those things to be true.

“Now.” It isn’t a suggestion, nor a question, but a statement.

“Wait, you’re not staying until the gala ends?”

“No, Sweetie. We’re not staying until the gala ends.” He laughs as if it’s obvious, “we both know that I could buy out this whole fundraiser if I wanted to.”

“What about our dates?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re my date, and I’m yours.”

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