#being able to describe so much in so few words
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
not a lot, just forever (pt.2)
summary: weddings weren’t logans thing, but being at one with you made him mind them a whole lot less. your (not so) subtle confession may have helped—but now it’s his turn to make the next move.
pairing: logan howlett x reader
word count: 1.3k
warnings: romcom themes, weddings, possible ooc!logan, reader is described as wearing a dress
authors note: thank you to everyone who read and interacted w my first fic. it genuinely means so much! here’s a part two for everyone who was asking<3 I’ll be working on requests over the next few days, feel free to keep them coming loves! part 1 is on my profile (still figuring out hyperlinks and such, masterlist will be coming soon!) ౨ৎ
logan doesn’t think he’s ever been more excited for a party. whenever there’s been a gathering or a social event at the mansion in the past, he’s been enthusiastic, sure, but mostly at the prospect of being able to get drunk off of his ass—not having to deal with the heavy weight that finds its home in his chest when he’s sober.
this time, though, it’s not the liquor. that’s almost the last thing on his mind, for the first time in years. right now, all he can think of is you. you in your dress, your perfume overwhelming his senses in the best way possible.
his heart finds a shaky rhythm in his chest as time inches on, throwing noncommittal glances at the altar where jean and scott exchange their vows. his knee bounces up and down sporadically, as he attempts to subdue his racing mind. he can feel you next to him, feel the heat radiating off of you—or was that him? he wasn’t so sure. he steals small glances at you, biting back the urge to reach for your hand; settling instead for resting his arm on the back of your chair.
he almost lets out a cheer when everyone begins filing out of the venue—ripping him from his thoughts. his eyes catch on you momentarily, breath hitching in his throat at the mere sight of you, holding up your dress and treading carefully on the grass. if he was bolder, less reserved, he’d extend an arm and help you. as everyone gathers outside, cooing at the newlyweds, he’s only focused on one thing.
the bouquet.
everyone knew the old wives tale. whoever catches the bouquet, is next on the list to get hitched. determination swells in his his chest, eyeing the assortment of pink and white blooms that rest in jeans arms.
he observes the surrounding area as photographers flash a few pictures of the couple— the more animal side of his brain working overtime, like a wolf stalking a caribou. he doubts that he’ll actually go for it, too rational to do something so childish. it seems he has no choice, however, because as soon as he sees a flash of pink and white against the blue sky, he’s already taken off—as though his legs made up his mind for him. he weaves through the crowd, hushed apologies falling past his lips. once he reaches the clearing, he jumps off, reaching for his prize. a smug grin adorns his lips, as he grazes the wrapping of the flowers—only to have it jerked away from him.
his brow furrows as feet meet solid ground once more, only to soften when his eyes lay upon the person who actually caught the bundle of flowers.
you stand in front of him, eyes locking with his. any frustration in his mind is washed clean as he sees the grin on your face, flushed cheeks. you stay gazing at him for a little too long; even as your shared friends gather to congratulate you.
those who were close to you, though—namely your teammates— knew that this meant something deeper. anyone who knew logan could tell that he had feelings for you, and vice versa. the stolen glances, hands brushing as you walk side by side.
as the throng of people begin to head for their cars, logan tries to spot you in the crowd, itching to tell you how he feels—to confess— spilling every emotion he’s ever felt for you onto the dirt for you to do as you please with. he sighs gruffly, heading for his motorcycle.
the road to the mansion is practically ingrained into his memory, unfortunately giving him enough time to overthink the rest of his evening. what if he misread? what if you changed your mind? what if he got you hurt? what if it was actually about someone else? like scott, or hank.
please don’t let it be scott.
he pulls up to the large building, gates propped open to allow guests easy entry. upon entering the room where the reception is held, his eyes immediately search for you: something that’s become a daily occurrence in his life since you stumbled into it. when he finds you, you’re already there, staring right back at him. if he had a tail, it would be wagging.
he rolls up his shirtsleeves, tugging at his tie anxiously, hating the way it clings to his throat. he clears his throat gruffly, swallowing his pride before starting across the polished wood floor, directly to you. he stands in front of you, his cheeks flushed this time.
“hey,”
he starts, any plan or script he had in mind abandoned once he saw your face. placing a palm on the back of his neck, his jaw tightens.
feelings.
logan had seen the worst parts of humanity. its darkest corners—and conquered it. risen above. yet feelings, were something he could never seem to overcome. but he’d be damned if he didn’t try for you.
“logan,” you speak, voice soft and low. he knew you. you hated to see him struggle—always wanted to finish his sentences so he didn’t have to say the hard things. he raises a hand, stopping you in your tracks. “let me,” he huffs. he takes a moment to look at you, really look at you. your parted lips, pupils wide. he has all the courage he needs.
sucking in a deep breath, he finds his footing.
“you were right. about me, i mean. i am scared. fuckin’ terrified, actually. im…” he trails off, swallowing hard in an attempt to regain himself, to soothe his racing mind. “telling you this— telling you how I feel, scared me, darlin’. but after you telling me you felt the same I realized that… never getting the chance to hold you—at least not in the way I want to—scares me a hell of a lot more.” he finishes, gazing at his feet. if he met your eyes right now, he didn’t know if he’d be able to continue, his brain screaming at him to give into fear. to run away.
for once he didn’t want to run. not this time. silence hangs in the air for a moment after his words, the anticipation allowing him to drag his eyes up your body, meeting yours.
before he can register, there’s a hand on his jaw, and one on the back of his neck pulling him closer. your foreheads meet, dark eyes gazing into yours. he almost melts at the way you look at him. doe eyed, completely at his mercy. he meets you halfway, plush lips meet his. shaky hands wind around your waist, tugging you in closer to him.
for a moment, the world stops.
it’s just you two. no nightmares, no impending doom. just this.
as you both pull back, logans heart calms in his chest. for the first time in a long time. he can breathe, actually think—cathartic. his eyes stay closed, chin coming to rest atop your head as he pulls you into him.
“I love you.”
your words make him jump a little. he knew what he was feeling. he had for a long time—too scared to admit it to himself. he softens after a moment, warmth filling his chest. it felt right. his right person.
“I love you too.”
as you pull back, world around you seemingly coming back to life— a slow song plays from the speakers softly, couples and friends gathering to dance. a hand reaches for logans wrist, guiding him to the dance floor.
his hands find their place around your waist, yours around his neck. your bodies intertwine, your face to his chest and his chin on your head. his eyes flutter shut, heightened hearing tuning out everything around him, focusing in on your heartbeat. steady, soft. home.
you sway softly, gathered by friends, and loved ones.
the beginning of forever.
#logan howlett#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett x you#xmen x you#mysticmutants#wolverine x reader#wolverine#marvel x reader#marvel
146 notes
·
View notes
Text
Was It Over? // Jake Seresin
-> Chapter Thirteen: [Panic Room]
Summary: Jakes darkest fears come to fruition when surgery doesn’t go as planned and the months to come bring a new reality he never saw coming.
Warnings: MAIN CHARACTER DEATH Sick!reader. Breast cancer diagnosis. Jake Seresin x F!reader. Angst, hospital & medical inaccuracies. SLOW BURN ROMANCE/ Inaccurate medical information. Relationship turmoil. Mentions of religion.
Word Count: 5.5k
Author Note: A big show of appreciation and love to @a-reader-and-a-writer (Vee) for constantly being ready and willing to help me with my writing. You have been the backbone I needed to get this done!
You guys will never know how much this series means to me. And in the same breath, you guys will never know how much your support truly means. Merry Christmas Eve Eve 2024 ya filthy animals.
Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist
Researchers say the average length of a dream is two to three minutes long. But many people experience their dreams as hours, days, or even years if they can remember them at all.
The science of dreaming has been questioned for hundreds of years. Some hypothesise that dreams are our way of processing real events that occur when we’re awake. They also serve as an outlet for repressed hopes and desires. Neuroscientists introduce a new theory every few years. But honestly, no one knows why we dream.
Or why we have nightmares. We just hope that after the dream, we wake up.
“We’ve gone over all the risks, weighed up all the possible outcomes, dotted I’s and crossed T’s. Today is the day, Mrs. Seresin.” Doctor Morrison was hopeful in his consultation. The white coat-wearing man reassured you as he placed your chart back where it belonged. “How are you feeling?”
The question went unanswered for a moment or two. You felt like you were in a state of shock. Unable to truly express how you felt just hours before going into what could be life-changing surgery. You were giving everyone in the room a thousand-yard stare. Mentally and physically, you had checked out. Like you’d been stuck in a nightmare that wouldn’t stop torturing you.
“We had some bad news last night. A close friend passed away unexpectedly,” Jake answered on your behalf. “Is there any way–”
“We need to do this now, Mr. Seresin, or we won’t be able to revisit this for a few months,” Dr. Morrison explained with an emphasis on the matter of now or never. “I understand personal circumstances may have changed. However, knowing everything you know about risk and recovery and survival rates after double mastectomies, I recommend we stick to the organised care plan.”
“Can we have a moment alone?” Jake asked cautiously as his hand came to rest gently on your shoulder. You hadn’t moved from what could only be described as a catatonic-like state for the entire duration of the conversation.
“Of course,” Dr. Morrison nodded. “I’ll come back after I’ve checked in on a few patients.”
It didn’t take long at all for the oncology crew to exit the room. But the second they did, you felt like you could breathe again.
“I can’t go through with this surgery Jake,” you begged. Fear of the unknown had taken over your entire being. “I can’t do this,”
“You are the strongest person I know, honey, the kids and I really need you to do this.” Jake tried his best to comfort you as well as remind you why this surgery was so important. “We need you, yeah? We need you to stick around and this fucking cancer, this disease, is trying to cut that time short.”
“But Jensen–”
At the height of the Great Depression, Harvard scientists started tracking students in hopes of discovering the key to a long and happy life. They looked at participants’ mental and physical health over seventy-five years. It’s the longest study of happiness to date. Seventy-five years and all they did was confirm what we’ve known since the beginning of time.
The most powerful predictor of health and happiness is the quality of our relationships.
Strong relationships protect us. Loneliness on the other hand…can be deadly.
“Would want you to keep fighting and have this surgery.” Jake could have said he thought Jensen was a coward. He could have said how angry he was at that fucker for leaving you alone in this world with no one to confide in who knew the struggle, who knew the feeling of being told you’re sick and need to get sicker in order to get better.
Jake could have told you how he wished Jensen had survived so he could kill him himself. Jake could have responded with the fact Jensen was terminal and there was nothing on this earth that could have saved him from his illness.
Jake could have told you that Jensen thought you hung the stars and the moon in the night sky every night just for him…but then Jake would also have to admit to himself and you that maybe, just maybe, you should have moved on.
“What would he say right now if he was here?” Jake settled on that question just to keep himself sane. He didn’t want to open yet another can of worms right before your surgery. This was all one big giant nightmare already, he didn’t want to make it worse. If anything, Jake kept pinching himself in secret just hoping that maybe he’d wake up on the couch and this cancer saga would all be some sadistic subconscious dream of his.
He’d always been deathly afraid of not being good enough for you.
“He’d tell me to do it,” you sighed as you let your head rest against the upright bed. “He’d tell me to be strategic about the battle, the war is the endgame.”
“Exactly, one battle at a time, step by step,” Jake agreed with a cheeky smile. That signature Seresin smile you so effortlessly loved. “You’re not gonna hand in the white flag before the battles even really begins, are you?”
“Kinda want to if I’m being completely honest with you,” you responded knowing Jake would appreciate the honesty. “But I guess you and the kids really need me to stick around, huh?”
“Oh, I can’t even begin to explain how much we need you to stick around, honeybee.” it was as honest and as sincere as Jake could be. He wore his heart on his sleeve for you. He exposed every nerve he had just so you could dance your feather-like fingers across the tender strings that made Jake, Jake.
“I’m so scared of being alone in the operating room,” you admitted as Jake leaned in to leave a gentle kiss on your forehead. “I’m so scared they won’t see me as a person,” It was an explanation that broke Jake’s heart even though he believed his heart couldn’t be broken any more. “That they won’t remember I’m me, that I have a life and a family and people who will miss me.”
Over the course of our lives, our relationships ebb and flow. We get together, break up, move away, or fall out of touch. It’s prolonged periods of loneliness and toxicity that wreak havoc on our health, our brain function, and our longevity.
“You’re never alone,” Jake replied softly as tears threatened to spill over his waterline. “I’m always with you, the kids are always with you, Jensen, your mum, everyone will be with you during that surgery, we’re gonna be waiting on the other side.”
“I love you so much, Jake Seresin,” you smiled brightly through a tight-lipped smile Jake wished he could save in his mind’s eye forever. “Let’s win this battle.”
“And the war too,” Jake replied as he reached for your hand, gave it a soft squeeze, and brought your palm to his lips. “Let’s fucking do this, Y/n.”
*************************************
Jake sat waiting by the vending machine as he picked at the small single service-sized packet of original Lays he’d nearly had to beg the machine to drop. His watch told him it was almost nearing the end of your surgery. He wasn't stressed, not when your surgeon had been so hopeful and calming. Jake had spent far too much of his time recently worrying about the what-ifs. He wanted to focus on the now. And that now was the fact you would have been nearing the end of your surgery. Which meant soon enough he’d get to see you again.
The only thing that kept Jake on his toes was the ever-looming doubt that perhaps the treatment plan wouldn't be enough. He hoped that you had enough fight in you to make it through the journey. He needed you to have enough strength to fight.
“She should be coming out of surgery soon–” Jake explained as he held his phone up to his ear and tried not to chew so loud. “The kids know that Rooster is picking them up to bring them home to Grandma Maz’s house?”
“Yeah, Mum’s not too happy about it but she won't keal over about it,” Jasmine replied as she watched her brother's kids play with hers in the backyard she and Jake used to make mud pies in. “Rooster messaged about an hour ago saying he was close, he shouldn't be too far away now.” Jas continued in her own little world. Jake was used to not being able to get a word in with his youngest sister. “I can't believe Y/n has fucking cancer–does her side of the family have a history or…?”
“Not that we know of, it's just really bad luck, Jas,” Jake sighed as he let his head fall back against the wall his chair was pressed up against. “But hopefully with this surgery and the chemo, she’ll be able to beat it.”
“Well, you tell her that I’m pissed she gets a boob job before I do,” Jasmine tried her best to keep the situation as light-hearted as possible. “Make sure she gets a good rack, not too small or too big, like a good handful that's just right.”
“I'll be sure to let her know,” Jake smiled, he really could count on his sister for that. “Oh, I gotta go, I see Y/n’s surgeon.” Jake sat up in anticipation as anxiety flooded his nervous system. “Tell the kids we love them for me.”
“Have been every day,” Jasmine replied quickly knowing her brother probably had his phone down from his ear by now. “Bye.”
Jake was quick to pocket his phone and wipe the crumbs from his shirt as he stood to greet your surgeon. However, something seemed off about the man who had seemed so confident before your surgery.
“Mr. Seresin–”
“How is she?” Jake asked. He didn't mean to interrupt, but he needed to know first and foremost before any medical mumbo jumbo. “My wife, how’d the surgery go?”
There was a very telling pause that accompanied the sober look that Doctor Morrison wore, but Jake tried not to read into it all that much. He knew you would be fine.
Right?
“Mr Seresin, your wife's heart was weakened by the stress of her recent stroke,” Doctor Morrison began to explain as Jake stood there expecting good news. “She, unfortunately, went into a cardiac arrest–” the air around Jake disappeared. Almost instantly, he felt as if he were floating in space. “We tried to revive her for the better half of twenty minutes while she was on the table,” There was a pause. A telling moment where reality and fantasy were trying to battle it out. Who’s version of events would win? When Doctor Morrison saw Jake’s mind short-circling with an inability to process the magnitude of information, he felt as if he needed to continue explaining the severity of the situation.
“It was catastrophic, and I'm afraid we've lost her.” Doctor Morrison had told far too many loved ones over the years that they had lost family members, but never in all his years had he ever seen such immediate denial written in the lines on someone's face. “Mr. Seresin, your wife has died.” The words Doctor Morrison was saying were not sinking in as Jake stood there completely blind to the reality happening around him. “I’m so sorry for your loss–”
“Uh–” Jake frowned as the confusion kicked in. “I'm sorry, you must have mistaken me for someone else. My wife was fine before she went in for surgery, she was fine.”
“Yes, yes, your wife was fine, yes–” Doctor Morrison tried to keep his composure, but even after all these years the losses still hurt. It made him feel human to experience the emotions alongside the family members, but in the first few seconds of watching Jake Seresin spiral into a hole of denial that you were, in fact, gone, Doctor Morrison, knew this particular loss would haunt him for the rest of his career.
Speaking slowly, Doctor Morisson tried once more to explain what had happened in a way that Jake would understand. “The stress of the surgery along with her recent stroke…her body just couldn't handle the stress. Her heart experienced a cardiac episode and we unfortunately couldn’t revive her.”
The immediate silence between the two men was all-consuming as it was telling. Jake’s heart was breaking in two.
“Is there someone I can call for you?” Doctor Morrison tried to be as empathetic as he could be, this part of the job was never easy. The part where he was tasked with telling loved ones that the people they loved had passed on his table. They were few and far between, but the people he did lose would forever haunt him. He could name every single one and their family’s name too. Jake Seresin would be a name Doctor Morrison would remember for the rest of his life and into the next.
“Are you out of your mind?” Jake pushed back almost immediately as he tried to wrap his head around what he was being told. This didn’t make any sense, you were just here. You were fine.
“No, Mr. Seresin I–” Doctor Morrison tried to explain again, but it was to no avail.
“I–Okay, I think you must be mistaken,” Jake wiped his hand on his jeans as he stepped back. “I just need to ge–”
“Mr. Seresin, please.” Doctor Morrison tried to stop Jake from leaving the waiting area, but Jake just stepped further back with a frown of disgust and grief. He was still holding his packet of Lays.
“No, no can you just, can you back up?” Jake nearly growled. “Can you leave me alone?” Jake looked around as he tried to remember how to breathe. People were staring at him like he was in a zoo. A caged and cornered animal begging to be left alone. “Can somebody get this person to just give me some space please?” It was as heartbreaking as it was cruel to watch Jake walk down the hall towards where he knew your hospital room was.
“Y/n?” He called out hoping you'd be back by now. “You won’t believe this guy, honey. He just–” The moment Jake rounded the corner and saw your hospital room empty with no sign of you, he stood still. All the air had been sucked right from his lungs as his eyes scanned the room. Your Christmas lights weren’t flashing, your bed wasn't made, and your laptop sat open with a black screen, but just where you’d left it. You weren't back.
“Y/n?” Jake whispered under his breath as his eyes continued to scan the empty hospital room just waiting for you to appear from out of the bathroom or sneak up behind him. But Jake knew you weren't about to appear even though he wished for nothing more.
“Oh–” One step, two steps, three steps, four. Jake didn't know where he was but he was on the move. He couldn't stay here looking at an empty room. He had to find where you were. “Oh god, no, no no no no no, please no don’t take her away from me.”
“Jake!” The woman's voice Jake had come to know over the last few days broke through the fog that was clouding Jake's mind. He continued to stumble blindly down the ward. “I just heard,” Lydia explained as she rushed up to the man who she had come to know as your husband. “I'm so sorry, I wasn't expecting this to happen. I thought–” Lydia quickly reacted when Jake's knees buckled underneath him.
“Woah! I need a little help over here!” Doctor Morrison was quick on the draw as he made his way over to where Jake now kneeled on the floor unable to breathe.
“My wife–” Jake tried to talk as he hyperventilated. “Y/n!” he cried out for all to hear. “Y/N!”
“She's gone.” Doctor Morrison had to make sure the fact was sinking in.
“Oh Jake, I’m so sorry–” Lydia tried to console the six-foot-something man who had crumbled to his knees. “Your wife was an amazing woman.”
Jake still couldn't believe it, he didn't believe it, and he wouldn't. The pain he felt inside his chest, the burning hot sensation was excruciating. He’d never felt such a feeling of grief mixed with denial and so much love. You couldn’t be gone. He was having a nightmare, wasn’t he? This wasn't real. He was dreaming. This was all one big dream. It had to be. It had to be a nightmare his subconscious had concocted. A nightmare where Jake lost it all. His biggest fears were realised.
“I need my wife, I need Y/n,” Jake sobbed as Lydia kneeled on the ground in front of him just assessing his current state of shock. “I can't, she can't–no no no she's fine, please tell me she's fine.”
“I'm so sorry, Jake,” Lydia confirmed what Jake wished so desperately wasn’t true. “She’s gone,” Lydia’s voice became distorted as she held the broken man in her arms. “You need to wake up before it's too late.”
************************
Bradley Bradshaw was accustomed to losing the people he loved the most in this world. He’d lost his father, his mother, and his grandparents. For a while there he’d lost the only man who had ever slightly filled the shoes his dad left behind. But the loss of someone who was still there was something he’d never had to handle before.
“Nat, he hasn’t gotten out of bed in days,” Bradley groaned as he cleaned up the kitchen. “The kids already lost their mother,” Bradley tried his best to keep his voice down, but the way little Lennox clocked Bradley from where he was sitting at the dining table made him realise he wasn’t one to talk on the quiet side. “They don’t need to lose their dad too.”
Jake stood just outside of Bradley’s eyeline, but he could hear everything the giant overgrown bird was saying. He couldn’t hear what Phoenix was saying but there was enough back and forth on Bradley’s behalf to easily fill in the gaps.
“No. No, he hasn’t been down since the funeral.” Jake forgot how to exhale at the mere mention of your funeral as he hid in the hall. He couldn’t remember ever getting ready or speaking at your wake. He couldn’t remember who drove them or if the kids cried. He couldn’t remember hugging your mother or shaking your brother’s hand. Jake couldn’t remember any details about the flowers he’d organised or the people who were there.
The anti-depressants weren’t helping. Nothing was. Nothing would.
Until today, Jake couldn’t bring himself to get out of bed. Without you, there was no point. He was begrudgingly okay with living a life in a world where you were still in it. But living in a world where you were no longer present wasn’t something Jake was willing to do. The kids would be fine with their grandparents. They’d be fine with Uncle Rooster. Lennox and Lucy and little Sammy didn’t need him. How was he supposed to look into their eyes and know he could never see the twinkle in yours ever again?
“I’m really worried about him, Nat,” Rooster sighed as he held his phone up to his ear with his shoulder. He was working on making little Samy some banana pancakes. “As much as I want to, I can’t stay here forever, but he needs someone.”
“No one is asking you to babysit me, Bradshaw,” Jake replied to the statement Bradley wasn’t expecting an answer to. “You can leave, trust me, I can drop the kids off with my mum.”
Bradley stood stunned into silence as he watched Jake round the corner and into vision. He reluctantly reached for his phone and hung up as Phoenix questioned what was going on.
“Hey man,” Rooster finally broke the silence as he watched Jake walk closer and closer to where Sammy sat in his high chair. “How you feeling today?”
“Well, my wife’s still dead, so that’s something,” Jake replied with a sigh as he picked up Sammy and placed him on his lap. Lennox could see the look of pure admiration in his younger brother’s eyes as Jake hugged the smallest of the Seresin kids. “Seriously, you’ve done enough for us, I got it from here.” It was the biggest lie Jake had ever tried to tell not only himself but his best friend.
“Uh,” Bradley wasn’t convinced. “Are you sure? I mean–I wanna stay as long as you need man,” Bradley tried to plead his case as Jake went about his business with Sammy. The business being nothing. Jake stood somewhat dazed and lost in the middle of the clean-ish kitchen. A kitchen he knew where nothing was. It wasn’t his. It was yours.
“I think the kids should come back to North Island with me,” Jake opted to ignore what Bradley was saying. Instead, he decided to continue with a vague plan for what the future holds. A future he didn’t want to have with you. A future he didn’t care about.
“You want the kids to uproot everything they know?” Rooster frowned as he looked over to where Lenny sat watching on. The kids were down, to say the least. Bradley could recognise himself in the permanent pout that had taken shape across Lennox’s face. The puffy eyes and saddened expression really tied the whole look of mourning together. They were just kids, they didn’t deserve any of this. “I don’t think you should be thinking about coming back to work anything soon either.”
“I don’t need you micromanaging me,” Jake hissed as he held onto his youngest son, all the while his eldest watched on with concern for his dad. “I need you to go home, Rooster, we’ve got it from here.”
“You don’t got anything, Seresin. Are you kidding me right now?” Bradley didn’t mean to come across as so defensive. But he’d seen Jake in this grief-fueled spiral long enough to know that his destructive and depressive mindset would end up causing more distress for the kids than intended. Jake was a good dad, that had never been questioned. Until now… Bradley wasn’t sure if his best friend could handle parenting three small children without a village to back him up. “The kids haven’t seen you in days–”
“Would you rather them see me at my worst or not see me at all?” Jake’s grief was eating away at him. So much so that Jake began to wish each time he closed his eyes he’d get to stay with the version of you his mind had envisioned. “I’m fine, I’ve got it from here,” Jake sighed as he hugged little Sammy with all the strength that he had. “I wasn’t, but I’m fine now and I just wanna spend time with the kids.”
“I don’t believe a word you’re saying right now man,” Bradley replied as he caught sight of Lucy coming down the hall. She’d been sleeping much like her father was. Great, all three Seresin children were present for their father’s impending breakdown.
“Get the fuck out of my house, Bradshaw.” This hadn’t been the first confrontation Jake and Bradley had gotten into while Bradley had been staying in Rhode Island as the Seresin kid’s personal live-in nanny. And it certainly wouldn’t be the last. It was becoming an almost everyday occurrence. The only difference this time was the kids were here to witness it. “I don’t need you here–”
“You aren’t thinking straight, just–how about the kids and I go for a walk or something and you sort yourself out? Have a shower? Shave? Drink something other than alcohol for–” Before Rooster could finish his sentence, Jake was placing Sam on the kitchen floor with a haste that didn’t sit right with Rooster. Lennox was the first to move from his chair. He was the spitting image of his father.
“I don’t fucking care, Rooster!” Jake shouted at the top of his lungs. So loud and with such rage that the veins in his neck were popping as his skin turned a nice shade of ruby red. He took fast strides across the kitchen until Jake was standing toe to toe with his best friend. The very friend who’d been taking care of his children since before your passing. “I have to live the rest of my fucking live without the woman I love, so, cut me some godman slack before I knock your smug ass head from your shoulders.”
Bradley didn’t move. He didn’t retaliate. He watched over Jake’s shoulder how his three children all cowered on the kitchen floor, scared of how their father yelled. Jake was oblivious to his surroundings. He couldn’t see the kids were struggling too.
“Jake?” Bradley sighed as he placed his hands on either side of Jake’s face. “When the fuck are you gonna get through all this?” Braley asked softly as he remained calm. “When are you gonna wake up?”
“Wake up?” Jake repeated as he pulled his face from his best friend's grip. “Wake up? Bradshaw, I died with my wife! There is no waking up from any of this!”
“Maybe–” Bradley shrugged as he walked over to where the kids had been huddled together. It was only as Jake followed Bradley’s trajectory that he realised how much he’d scared his children. Something he never wanted to do. “There's always hope though.”
“Kids,” Jake sighed as his tears began to fall. He dropped to his knees right then and there in the kitchen he wasn't familiar with. In a house that was now cold and dark without your constant radiating light to keep it warm and bright. “Guys, I'm sorry, huh–Dad didn't mean to raise his voice, he’s just–” Before Jake could finish his sentence, little Lennox was finishing his father’s sentence for him.
“You’re just sick, dad.”
“What?” Jake frowned as the kids made their way over to where Jake was kneeling on the tiles.
“I said you’re just sad, Dad,” Lennox replied once more as he gave his dad a hug. “We’ll take care of you.”
************************
December 31st
Jake Seresin tried his best to hide the wet tears that fell down his cheeks as he sat with his kids on the lounge of the home that he had tried his best to keep as tidy as he could. There was a lot of uncertainty, a lot of frustration, a lot of fear and unbelievable sadness that surrounded Jake and your three small children. The unknown was truly tragic, terrifying and treacherous, but Jake wasn’t about to let his kids see the way he so desperately wanted to cry.
Things had changed since Jake fell mind, body and soul into an unimaginably deep hole of depression. So much so that days had become to feel like one long dream. A paradox of grief and manic love. Your mother had told Jake to feel every ounce of emotion he had locked away. Maz had told him that grief was just someone’s residual love with nowhere else to go.
Once Jake was able to understand that the pain of losing you was his love for you, he understood why it hurt so deeply on a cellular level. He understood why it hurt to look at the children he’d created with you. He understood why the kids had wanted to sit and open the small, still-wrapped Christmas present Lenny had found in Jake’s bag when he was looking for his dad’s wallet.
Because it was one of the last things you ever gifted someone. It was one of your last acts on earth.
“What did Mum get you for Christmas, Daddy?” Jake held the small present in the palm of his hand, the present he had yet to open. The present he wasn’t sure he wanted to. It felt like something he’d held before, the weight felt all too familiar. It haunted him the more he carried it around, held it in the palm of his hand and contemplated the inevitable.
“I dunno buddy, you reckon I should open it?” Jake asked as he kissed his son's head. “S’not Christmas anymore.” The Naval Aviator had recently shaved his head, it had been the closest to a number one he’d ever had. It was in solidarity, union. A decision he made in the blink of an eye but one he did not regent or ever would.
“We haven’t taken the tree down yet,” Lucy added her two cents into the conversation as she laid her head on her father’s thigh. “Mum would be upset if you didn’t open it, Dad.” Jake knew that much was true, you probably would be pretty bent out of shape if he never opened it.
“Alright, I’d better open it then huh?” Jake shook the small perfectly wrapped box he could hold in the palm of his hand. He heard what sounded like a rock rattle inside. His heart nearly exploded inside his chest.
Fuck….Jake knew what it was and he really didn’t want to open it.
“Hey, Dad?” Lucy’s voice sounded completely different to anything Jake had ever heard before. She was looking right at him yet her eyes were trained on something one hundred miles away.
“Yeah, sweetheart?” Jake replied just as he was about to open the present you’d given him before his life was turned upside down.
“You need to wake up now,” Lucy’s voice sounded familiar, but it wasn’t her own. “You’ve had enough time here,”
“What are you talking about Lu?” Jake frowned as he looked at his daughter. An extension of himself and you. “Lucy? Are you feeling okay?”
“You’ll be a good dad soon,” Lucy smiled as she unwrapped the small ring box in Jake’s hand. The ring box that held what Jake assumed to be your engagement ring. But as little Lucy opened the wrapping, a blinding light burst through the cracks. A light so bright it forced Jake to squint.
“Please wake up, honey,” Jake heard your voice clear as day as Lucy opened the ring box to send a piercing white light into the living room. Jake was completely captured by the light around him. So much so the entire room was drowned in a light so pure it was crystal clear. He couldn’t see a single thing beyond the all-encompassing white.
“Please wake up for us,” again your voice was the only thing Jake could hear in the void he found himself in.
“Y/n?” Jake called out into the void around him. He could feel his ribcage breaking like he couldn't breathe. Every breath he took was agony. “Hello?” Yet he could hear your voice. A voice he longed for. A voice he had to get back to. Jake had to get to you.
“I’m here, you’re alright,” Jake once again heard your angelic siren song. His head began to throb. The feeling was agonising. Like there was no more room for swelling.
“Where are you?” Jake called out as he stumbled in the light. The smell of burning flesh mixed with jet fuel overcame Jake’s senses. His need to get to you was more powerful than the deep bone ache he could feel in his legs. There was nothing on earth or beyond that would stop Jake from getting to wherever the hell you were calling him from. His entire body ached with a pain so unimaginable it sent him to his knees. Crawling, Jake cried out for you just one more time.
“Y/n!?” Jake called out once more in a desperate attempt to find you in the void. “Kids?”
“Here he comes,” Bradley’s voice echoed out as Jake looked up towards where he assumed the sky would be. The glare was too much. Jake placed his forearms over his forehead to soften the brightness. “Come on Hangman, don't leave us out to dry.”
Some people spend their whole lives trying to make a dream come true. They set a goal and make a plan on how to achieve it. It works for some people. But for others, it’s not so easy. As hard as they work toward the dream, it can feel like the whole world has plotted against them.
As someone gets further and further away from the dream, people begin to cling to any sign of hope. And the longer it takes and the more it costs…you start to consider whether you should give up. Do you find a new dream? Or do you stick to the one that started you on this journey in the first place?
For Jake, things weren’t as black and white.
As Jake closed his eyes and took one painful last breath in, he felt as if he’d fallen from cloud nine. When he opened his eyes, the light was still there….But he wasn’t.
Jake’s eyelids fluttered, the faintest hint of light creeping through the haze of his mind. He tried to move, but his body felt foreign as if it wasn’t entirely his own. The weight of unconsciousness clung to him, reluctant to release its hold. Slowly, he became aware of the sounds around him—
“Jake, It’s me, can you hear me?”
**********************
Tags: @blindedbythelightt @starset21 @tayl0rhuynh @marvelogic @itsmytimetoodream
@maverick-wingman @kodzukenmaaa @eternalsams @seitmai @nota-professional
@jessicab1991 @hardballoonlove @senawashere @withahappyrefrain @dizzybee03 @maisie-rebloging-blog
@a-reader-and-a-writer @sunlightmurdock @shelbycillian @memoriesat30 @accioprocrastination
@the-aspiring-fanfic-writer @athenabarnes @eternallyvenus @emma8895eb @kmc1989 @avengersgirllorianna
#jake seresin x reader#was it over? // jake seresin#jake hangman seresin#tw: cancer#jake hangman seresin x reader#jake seresin fanfiction#jake hangman imagine#jake seresin imagine#Jake Seresin whump#jake seresin x you#jake seresin fic
98 notes
·
View notes
Text
letter from: jongseong ⋆。˚❆˚ 。⋆
on the fifth day of christmas, you asked me what's on my wishlist and i told you all i wanted was forever with my boo... -ariana grance "true love"
pairing: park jongseong x reader
genre: romance/fluff - marriage proposal
warnings: nothing really but always 18+
summary: jongseong proposes on christmas day
christmas herald masterlist ⋆。˚❆˚ 。⋆
word count: 2932
The drive up to Jay’s winter family cabin up in Northern Washington was long but scenic. It had a lot of beautiful sights and fun pitstops that you’d never see back in South Korea. The two of you were vacationing in his home state for the holidays and after spending a few days in his hometown, your plan was now to drive up to his family’s winter cabin and spend Christmas there with just the two of you.
You and Jay have been together for almost 3 years now, January 1st would not only be bringing the new year but also marking the 3rd year of you and Jay’s relationship. You two have known each other since Jay moved to Korea from Seattle and it just so happened to be that your mom was from Seattle but moved to Korea when she met your dad. The two of you have been inseperable since.
Growing up together people would often make comments about how you two looked perfect for each other or just assumed that you two were dating and although you weren’t at the time, you couldn’t help but imagine a life where Jay was your prince charming– until about 3 years ago during your first year of University where Jay drunkely confesses that he’s had a crush on you since the two of you were 16. He embarrassingly tried to ignore it the next day but when you returned with a confession of your own, the two of you would spend the next few weeks dating and this eventually led to him finally asking you to be his girlfriend as the clock struck 12am on the new year.
The last 3 years of your life have been magical and spending it with your best friend who just happens to be your boyfriend made it all the better. Both of your parents already knew the two of you would eventually end up together, the only question was when.
“You doing okay, honey? We’re almost there.” Jay says, his calm voice pulling you out of the memories of the last 2 Christmases that you’ve spent together. When you first started dating you spent Christmas with both of your parents, then the next year only with your parents because Jay’s moved back to Seattle, and this year you spent a few days with his family before making the drive up to the cabin like you were doing now.
“I’m alright, don’t worry honey.” you respond, giving him a warm smile, one that he returns with his own. Warmth. That was a word you could use to describe Jay: warm.
Even on the coldest nights in Korea or here in Washington where it seems to be cold about 80% of the year, being around Jay was the warmth that you needed to forget about the freezing cold that threatened to nip at your skin, creating goosebumps that littered your body. Even when you weren’t feeling cold, Jay’s warmth was able to provide you with a type of serenity and solace that no one else could. Like he was this beacon of light that instantly soothed you whenever he was around. His kind, caring, and affectionate demeanor was what drew you to him. You truly were the luckiest person alive to be on the receiving end of Jay’s love and you wouldn’t trade him for anyone else in the world because he let you feel the love and warmth you deserved to feel in a world that seemed to be freezing over with an icy cold pandemic that caused people to be unkind and mean spirited.
Jay glances over at you with that smile that you loved so much, grabbing your hand with his and pressing a kiss onto your knuckles, “I can’t wait to spend this time with you. It’ll be unforgettable.” he says before placing another warm kiss on your skin and setting it back down on your lap so he could drive with both hands on the wheel like the responsible guy that you knew him as.
After another pitstop to use the restroom and taking photos of the snow covered trees, you arrived at the cabin just a few hours before the sun would start to set. It was Christmas Eve and you and Jay planned to just settle in and have a calm day when you arrive and on Christmas Day you would have a wonderful dinner cooked by Jay and spend Christmas cuddled up in front of a fire most likely watching a Christmas movie you’ve seen x amount of times.
“We’re here!” Jay says enthusiastically, running out of his seat and over to your side of the car to open it for you but not before puckering up for a kiss as he helps you out of the car. The two of you unload the trunk of your things, just a few bags of clothes and food to last you the week as you’d be there until the New Year. The cabin was beautiful, it was surrounded by the tallest of trees that were covered in snow, several string lights were strung from different trees, and the cabin itself had its own charm. It had high reinforced windows, beautiful oak logs and panels that made up the cabin itself, and near the front of the door you found small footprints in the snow that you could assume to be from a family of deer somewhere in the snowy forest.
As Jay brought your bags and his into the cabin, you quickly check the hidden compartment of the trunk that lifted and revealed a section that was hidden into the bottom of the trunk itself. There laid your Christmas gift that you hid from Jay before you left for the drive to ensure he didn’t see you pack it into the car. You shut the compartment back up when Jay called for you and decided that you’d bring the gift in another time when Jay was preoccupied with something, perhaps while he’s cooking dinner tomorrow.
“Coming, honey!” you shout, closing the trunk and carefully skipping over to Jay who waited for you at the entrance of the cabin with his arms open. You quickened your pace as you got closer causing you to slip on the ice on the patio but of course, Jay, your knight in shining armor, was there to catch you before you could even come close to falling. A gasp leaves your lips but it leaves just as quick when you realize Jay has caught you with his strong arms wrapped around your waist.
“My savior!” you say dramatically, acting like you were about to faint from the situation and Jay decides to play along; throwing your legs into the air and catching you bridal style. “Fear not my lovely maiden! Your knight in shining armor is here to save you from your cute clumsiness.” he announces, walking the two of you and plopping you down onto the couch that was in the living room just a few feet from the front door. “Hey! I’m not clumsy…” you say, pouting.
“Aww, honey– yes you are.” Jay responds, placing a kiss onto your pouty lips in the middle of his sentence.
The rest of the day goes by fairly quickly as you and Jay spend most of it lounging around in each other’s warmth, laid up on the couch with his arms wrapped around you while you watch various Christmas movies.
Soon enough, you’re yawning and looking out the window to be met with the big and bright moon gleaming into the cabin through one of the windows; the shadows of snow falling from the sky bleeding into the moonlight. “Sleepy?” Jay asks and you look up at him, head still on his chest before nodding. “Off to bed we go!” he says, picking you up again bridal style and taking you to the bedroom where he tucks you in goodnight with his arms acting as an extra layer of warmth to the fluffy blanket covering the two of you.
“Goodnight honey.” Jay says with a kiss to your temple, his low and sweet voice almost lulling you to sleep.
“Goodnight, my love.” you respond quietly, sleep soon taking over as yours and Jay’s light snores fill the room.
⋆。˚❆˚ 。⋆
It’s Christmas morning and you’re awoken by the scent of pancakes, bacon, and eggs on the stove; an indicator that Jay is in the kitchen cooking up breakfast for the two of you– before you’re even able to throw the thick blanket off of your body, Jay is emerging from behind the bedroom door and walking over to your with bright eyes and a smile; holding a breakfast bed tray with the most delicious smelling and looking food. Eggs, just the way you like it, a stack of pancakes, crispy bacon, and a cup of hot cocoa in a mug that the two of you had made in a ceramic class one day when you first started dating.
“Babe!” you say with a bright eyed pout as you watch him come closer with the tray of food, Jay’s smile only getting bigger. “Breakfast for my queen.” he says as he sets it down over your legs. “This looks so delicious, thank you my love.” you say, sharing a kiss as a thank you to him for his kindness. “Did you eat?:” you ask and he nods, “Just a bit, don’t worry I’ll bring myself a plate over, i just want you to have a bite first.” he explains and you scrunch your nose at him with a small smile.
You soon take a bite of the pancake’s and it’s probably the best pancake you’ve ever had. Jay was a great cook but it’s the simpler foods that he cooks that is your favorite. It induces a nostalgic feeling like you’re 4 years old trying pancakes for the first time and it becomes your hyperfixation for the next month or so where that’s all you can ask your mom to make when she asks you what you want to eat for breakfast, lunch and dinner.
Like Jay. You would choose him at any time of the day.
You cut him a small piece of the pancake and he takes the bite before excusing himself to grab his own plate so the two of you could have breakfast in bed together.
⋆。˚❆˚ 。⋆
It’s about 5PM when you’re doing the finishing touches to your hair and makeup for a Christmas dinner prepared by Jay. Your hair is done in simple voluminous curls that falls over your shoulders that hold up the black velvet dress you’re wearing with red bows and white fur accents. It’s cold but the warmth inside of the cabin allow for you to wear a dress so that you don’t freeze to death during your dinner with Jay.
You could smell the food he’s cooking from your bathroom and you can’t wait to eat whatever delicious food he’s cooked up.
“YN, honey! Dinner is ready, my love.” Jay shouts from the dining room and as if you teleported into the room, you’re walking in just as he’s finished setting up the table. He’s wearing a simple white button up that hugged his toned arms and physique and a warmth in your stomach begins to settle as you look at Jay, thinking about a life where he was your husband and not your boyfriend.
“Wow, you look… wow” Jay says, truly at a loss for words at your beauty.
“You don’t look so bad yourself, handsome.” you say, wrapping your arms around his neck as he wraps his arm around your waist; slowly dipping you into a kiss like you were in a romance movie of a lifetime.
“Let’s eat.” Jay says, pulling out your seat and pushing it in as you sit down; always a gentleman.
⋆。˚❆˚ 。⋆
You’re just about done with dinner when Jay suddenly clears his throat. “I know we agreed to not get each other gifts, but I couldn’t not get you anything.” he says and you teasingly narrow your eyes at him as he grabs a small wrapped box from the cupboard in the kitchen. “Did you really hide it up there?” you ask with a chuckle.
“Of course, I knew you’d never find it because you can’t reach up there.” he jokingly says and you pout at him as he puts the gift in front of you. Urging you to open it with his eyes, watching you with excitement as you carefully tear into the wrapping paper.
The item inside leaves you speechless, mouth agape, as you pull it out. Inside was a glass snowglobe, a ballerina in a pink dress spins as you shake the snowglobe. “How did you find this?” you ask, looking up at him with teary eyes. Jay explains that he spent months looking for it and one day when you guys were in Seattle, walking around downtown, the snowglobe caught his eye. He urged you and his parents to continue while he sneakily bought it and rejoined you all at a food stand.
It wasn’t just any snowglobe. It was the exact snowglobe you had when you were younger and dreamt of becoming a ballerina. Your dreams however, are cut short due to a knee injury, and the snowglobe was the last thing that helped you cope with your dreams as a child. You lost the snowglobe when you had moved cities for college and were devastated when you lost it in the move– and here you were now reunited with the beautiful object that reminded you of your youth and now also serves as a reminder of the kindness and love that Jay has for you.
You give him a tight hug and endless kisses as a thank you that he doesn’t decline, returning with a hug even tighter and accepting all the kisses you wanted to give to him.
“Well, I’m glad you ended up getting me something because I got you something too…” you confess and Jay raises his eyebrows with a little smile as you walk away to grab your gift. You had sneakily brought it inside from the car when Jay was in the shower.
His gift was fairly large so he instantly ran over to you so that you didn’t have to carry it from across the room to where he was sitting; the two of you moved to the living room to open his gift.
“Merry Christmas, honey.” you mutter and Jay gives you a smile before opening the box, mouth instantly open before he could even fully see the item inside of the large black box.
“You did not…” Jay says, looking over to you and you’re just nodding excitedly as he continues to open it, pulling out a glossy deep blue guitar that had little white spots that fall into the consellation of taurus– Jay’s sign.
He had been looking for this guitar for almost 2 years now and had no luck, luckily for you– you were able to find it one day when one of your friend’s was parousing around in the UK. They instantly called you to ask if that was the guitar and you nodded, telling them that you would send the money to purchase it and whatever cost the shipping would be, you’d paid for it.
“I can’t believe you found it, oh my god…” Jay says, placing the guitar on his thighs as he slightly plays with the strings, a small tune rings through the cabin as he adjusts the tuning. “Thank you, baby. Oh my god I’m speechless…” Jay says, getting up to give you a kiss on the lips like it was the first time you two had ever kissed.
He puts the guitar back in its case, “I’ve actually got one more gift…” Jay begins to say.
“YN, you’re absolutely the best thing to happen in my life. I can’t imagine a life without you– you’ve taught me a different type of happiness that I wouldn’t find in anyone else.
You’re the person I look for when I walk into a room.
You fill me with love that I’ve never felt before.
You allow me to make mistakes and encourage me to learn from them.
Growing up our parents and everyone around us seemed to have this premade story that we would end up together and I held that story in my heart, knowing that it wasn’t just a story but it would eventually become the truth.
Our story.
You’re my best friend, my teacher, the love of my life…” Jay says, kneeling down on one knee and pulling out a small red velvet box.
“YN, would you do me the honor of becoming my wife? Will you marry me?” Jay asks as tears are falling from your eyes.
You’re saying yes before he can even finish the question, jumping onto him with a hug as he chuckles at your reaction; engulfing you into a warm hug. “100% yes.” you mutter into his neck as the two of you stand up onto your feet. He gently places the ring onto your finger and once again the two of you share a kiss in front of the fireplace, snow falling outside, and the moons shining into the cabin through the crystal windows.
A kiss that feels like it’s your first kiss together and in many ways it is. It’s your first kiss as fiancés and you can’t wait to have your first kiss together as husband and wife.
copyright 2024 - present © hoonieyun all rights reserved
all writing here is fiction & not in any association with characters mentioned.
if you enjoyed reading this please consider reblogging and following <3
#kiki diaries#enhypen#christmas herald#en-diaries#kpop#kpop au#kpop fic#kpop fanfic#kpop fanfiction#enha#fanfiction#enhypen au#enhypen x reader#enha x reader#enhypen jay#park jongseong#jongseong x reader
49 notes
·
View notes
Text
A few days ago I posted this tiny snippet here but I don't know if I should finish writing and if I should post it.
What do y'all say?
"I wish I never said yes" Will stated, eyes sharp and hands balled into fists.Mike stared at him, feeling his heart beat widly inside of his chest."Wh- What?"
"I wish I never said yes to being your friend" Mike flinched, and the words hurt so much they took his breath away.
"You..." Will was staring at him - eyes hard and lacking the usual warmth Mike loved so much.
"Saying yes to being your friend was the worst thing I ever did".
And that's when Mike knows he'd rather die, he'd rather cut himself open right then and there rather than listen to this. The pain is so sharp he stumbles away, and he wonders how is he going to survive the fallout, or if he can survive it at all".
"I don't –" he couldn't breathe and Mike tried to reach for him, to no avail. "Why –"
Why was he saying this? Was Mike so... Was Mike so terrible that he managed to drive away the only person he loved more than words could describe?
"I don't understand –".
That was a lie. He did. He knows he's broken, and that his sharp words with their sharp sting push everyone away, and that he is wrong on a deep, fundamental level, but he always thought he had more time. He always thought he'd be able to hold onto Will for a little while longer.
"Understand this, I don't need you".
****
Mike was frantically searching for something, desperately trying to find it.
Where was it?
Where was it?
He can't really remember, the walls of his basement are empty and there was supposed to be something there but...
What was it?
He remembers being a smaller boy, scared and all alone, and thinking about the boy on the swings.
He recalls going over there, almost stumbling on his little legs, and saying.
"Hi! My name is Mike! Do you want to be my friend?"
And the other boy looked at him - eyes hard and mouth turned into a frown -".
"I – well, I guess?"
And it wasn't the "yes" Mike was looking for, it wasn't a "yes" at all but... Maybe he could work with that?
But the boy sees someone else, another boy and he grins wide, leaving the swingsets and Mike behind:
"Actually, my friend is here so I guess I don't really need you! Bye!"
And...
It shouldn't hurt as much as it did. It shouldn't hurt like that one time where Mike feel from his bike and scrapped his knees, it shouldn't hurt more than the day broke his arm, and yet it did.
23 notes
·
View notes
Text
FALSE LOVERS CHAPTER XXIX
"SO, DID YOU TELL WILLIAM?" Josephine asked as she walked through the Moriarty Manor with (Name) "you know, about your condition.."
"What?" (Name) blinked, clearly invested in her own thoughts whilst her friend spoke. "Oh...my condition.." she paused, standing still on the stairs, her hand rubbing at her neck nervously, then moving to fidget with her hair. "see..the issue is.." She trailed off, trusting to explain. Josephine furrowed her brows, noticing a fresh bruise on her neck.
"Oh my god." She huffed under her breath. "You didn't tell him, did you? You slept with him! Again!!"
(Name) frowned, getting a little defensive "It's a very difficult position to be in-"
"Oh I bet you know a lot about difficult positions.." The brunette remarked.
"Josephine!"
"Sorry, sorry. I've never been pregnant before, surprisingly, so I can't judge.." she hummed
"Don't say that word out loud. If my own husband doesn't know, I'd rather nobody but you or James know either." (Name) said, moving her hand down to fiddle with her sleeve "I did try to tell him, I really did. But then he started being all flirtatious and he somehow has this way of making me feel all funny, and honestly he may be the best man I've ever had, in a weird sort of way.."
"I'd never imagine you describing William as such," Josephine giggled "Still, how did things escalate so much..?"
"Well, I went to his office, made some small talk about the incident with Whitely, before he was assassinated, then he starts making some jokes, and we reminisced on our university days together. He brought up this one memory I feel quite fond of, and then I realised that I must have been very..mean to him, more so than I am now. As if I crossed the line a few times, so I apologised and then we kissed, and then.." (Name) spoke very, very quickly, her demeanour flustered "Well, you know.."
"I'd rather not know," Josephine pulled a face. To her, this was like walking in on one's parents doing it. "Also you should tell him to be more discreet..you have a huge bruise on your neck, it almost looks painful.."
"You should see the ones I gave him." She joked, before noticing josie's flat expression. "Sorry."
She rolled her pale blue eyes, walking down the staircase with her to the lounge. "It's fine..it's quite nice to be able to gossip for once, especially with how busy things have been lately. With Fred now gone more often, I've been used as messenger girl whenever I'm available.."
"Yes, well, we did recently confirm to the public that this urban legend of the Lord Of Crime is real..it's a shame my old persona hasn't made a return. Now she is just the Lord of Crime's wife," (Name) chuckled dryly, her silk gloves sliding across the bannisters.
"Most women could only dream of such a thing," Josephine reassured with a soft laugh whilst they walked into the lounge whilst the others discussed matters regarding milverton.
"..but I would never choose that option. I'll kill Milverton whether my name spread or not." William spoke, pausing as (Name) entered the room. Everyone went silent for a second or two as she sat down beside her husband, confused as to what they were discussing.
"I'm afraid I missed a few chapters." (Name) stated calmly. "Are we really going ahead with such a plan, provided the risk?"
"(Name)," William placed his hand on her thigh reassuringly. At this point in time, he didn't care if people knew of their odd relationship. "It was bound to happen at some point."
"Right." She nodded stiffly. She was clearly unhappy with the idea but she couldn't say much. It was part of their contract and pre existing agreement before they started their affair — could one even have an affair with their spouse?
"As Louis said, this mission will carry unprecedented risks, but I can't keep Milverton alive much longer." He said. (Name) honestly was quite fond of Milverton at first, but upon finding he was responsible not only for the deaths of the Whitleys, but also the Jack the Ripper scandal, she could care less if he died. She just found him intriguing.
Sherlock used the correct means to achieve moral goals, William used unethical means to achieve moral goals and Milverton purposely would use horrible means to achieve horrible goals.
She couldn't help but wonder why.
Regardless, he was to die, hopefully at William's hands, because she'd rather not have Milverton be Sherlock's first kill.
"Let's take action as soon as we're ready." William stated, snapping (name) out of her thoughts.
Louis parted his lips, about to protest before William cut him off again.
"We all knew this was coming, Louis. It was going to happen sooner or later," He said. "It's all according to the moriarty plan."
"So this is it.." (Name) muttered as she sat on William's bed, surprisingly clothed.
"This is it." He repeated. "When you signed that contract, you knew it would come to this..I apologise."
It didn't exactly feel sincere when he apologised, almost as if he was speaking to an acquaintance or associate — not his wife.
"I suppose I'll have to remarry.." She hummed. She knew she probably wouldn't, couldn't. She was finally pregnant, with an heir. That's all she needed.
William's jaw clenched at the mere idea of another man stealing the life he wanted. "I suppose you will." He nodded, shutting the book in his hands, getting out of his chair and approaching his bed on the other side of the room. "I.." He opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again, like a fish.
"I know." She looked up at him. "I know."
He nodded, sitting down beside her and wrapping an arm around her waist apologetically whilst she rested her head on his shoulder. "Who would've thought..you and me.."
"I never took you as the sentimental type." she laughed dryly.
"I am a dead man walking, after all," William rubbed her shoulder soothingly. "Speaking of which..."
"I'll pay for the funeral, don't worry. I can even have you sent to (home country) so you can have a tomb where it won't be destroyed by angry people." She said in a soft, melancholy tone.
"That's alright. I'll let my gravesite be destroyed and ruined." He smiled. "Actually..I was thinking."
"You always think."
"So do you," he chuckled. "But in all seriousness, this is important. I'm going to have to ask you to do something a little bit difficult."
"I've never failed any mission you've given me," (name) reminded him. "I'm your strongest soldier."
"That you are," He kissed her forehead. "But this isn't a physical thing..I mean, you'll pick up a pen, and write a few sentences, but it's.." William trailed off, his scarlet eyes shifting away from her and onto the equally red wallpaper.
"What is it?" she asked curiously.
"I'm going to need you to write a letter," He explained, rubbing her thigh. "To one of the main newspapers. I'll need you to write about how you recently discovered I was the lord of crime, how you plan to annul the marriage, and how you want the public to know you were never involved."
He paused, looking into her eyes, searching for a reaction. She took a moment to process his words, her eyebrows furrowing in an angry glare.
"No! Why would you ask me to do such a thing? I may be a killer but I can't lie to an entire nation!" She exclaimed, standing from the bed. "I was just as involved as you were, and I've been killing since I was 16!"
"You've lied numerous times before, I don't see how this may be any different," He pointed out.
"But it's different—" She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "What am I to tell my parents? My friends? Should I just continue to live a lie after you...you.."
She couldn't even bring herself to say it.
"You can tell your parents the truth if you like, (name). They're good people, they wouldn't cast you out." He reassured her "And it's for your own sake. What will society think of a woman who knowingly let her husband kill people? What will they think when they find out you helped too? What will they think when they find out you married me because you just wanted to keep your parents happy and the men away? This is for your sake, I only ask that you write one letter."
"William.." She whispered his name.
"If you don't, I'm afraid I'll have to forge one." He stated. "You're already in enough trouble with parliament and her majesty herself, what will they do to you or to (home country) if they realise you were involved, that you were the lady of crimes."
She sighed. He was right.
"I have business to attend to in Manchester, tomorrow afternoon, which I can always say was done out of fear of my husband being upset with me. I may have time to write a letter then and send it off as soon as possible to all the newspapers possible." She rambled. "And I'm telling my parents. They're going to be in Manchester too."
"Everything?"
"Everything."
"I knew something was wrong." Grand Duchess (last name) sighed. "I told you, didn't I, (Father's name)?"
"You're right. I apologise for not believing you, my love." He rubbed his wife's shoulder, kissing her cheek apologetically.
(Name) couldn't bear to even look at them. She kept her head bowed and her eyes on her shoes. "I'm sorry, again."
"No, (Name). I'm sorry." Her mother reached her hand out to hold her daughter's. "So is your father. This wouldn't have happened if we.."
"There was nothing you could've done to change anything." She reminded them. "I had to do what I did, regardless of how horrible and wrong it was.."
Her parents shared a look, before turning to their daughter again. She looked so small, so vulnerable. It was as if she was 9 years old all over again.
"But we should have been there." The grand duke spoke. "At such a young age, you witnessed something so traumatising, and you lost your brother too..then we encouraged you to go to Britain for the sake of your education, and didn't contact you regularly, only visiting a handful of times, and even then we weren't around long enough for you."
Her mother nodded in agreement. "If we had been there, if we had made you feel safe and welcome with us, you wouldn't have killed as many people as you did, you wouldn't have felt the need to marry a man you despised, and you wouldn't be in the situation you are in right now."
"It wasn't your fault.." (Name) whispered, holding back tears. "There's this man, Charles Augustus Milverton..he would spread rumours about me through a magazine he owned, solely to torment me..it just made matter worse and now he's going to expose William's wrong doings to the entire country, and that..I can't imagine how he must feel right now.."
The grand duchess sighed. "You love him, don't you?"
"I do."
"For how long?"
"I..I'm not entirely sure.." She glanced down to her stomach. "But I know that I can't let him die..I just can't."
"There's something else you're not telling us, isn't there?" Her father asked.
"You can tell us, we won't judge you or be upset." Her mother reassured. "We're your parents."
"I haven't even told William..Josephine, and another close friend that I work with, they're the only ones who know..." she trailed off. "I mean, how could I tell him. I haven't even told him I love him yet..He's convinced our relationship is just a facade for the public with some extra benefits for the both of us.."
"(Name).."
"I'm pregnant."
"It's a shame this comedy doesn't have an audience," Milverton laughed as William and Sherlock turned their pistols to face him, rather than pointing at each other. They had both been inside Milverton's villa for a while now, with two very different reasons yet seemingly the same outcome. "The light and dark that symbolise London..the two of them are here together."
"Make that three." A voice spoke from behind Milverton. He glanced over his shoulder, smirking as he saw his main target, (Name) (Last name).
His smirk widened as he noticed a gun in her hand, pointing straight at him, finger on the trigger. "It's splendid you could join us. You seem so innocent but upon further inspection, anyone could tell that you had been aiding your husband's 'activities' all along, perhaps even the match that lit the fire."
"I'm not here for him." She assured "You know exactly what you've done."
"I do indeed." He chuckled, watching as (Name) slowly walked through the dimly lit room so she was stood in front of him, beside William and Sherlock. "And I'm glad you turned up. I was worried, really, that you weren't going to be here when I saw your husband without you." He paused. "Can I even call him that? Your 'husband'?"
"There are legal documents to prove it. I'm sure one of your lapdogs can retrieve them for you," she retorted.
"Yes, legal documents." Milverton hummed. "I found a rather interesting one earlier this week...Although, not nearly as interesting as a criminal couple, even if you may not be the most romantic."
(Name) glanced at William who didn't seem to pay her any attention apart from the initial surprise she was here despite orders given that she wouldn't.
"It was you, wasn't it?" She asked, her finger trembling on the trigger, her hands uncharacteristically shaky "You who tried to expose me for taking down that trafficking ring, you who had my name plastered over the tabloids, and for what? I didn't do anything to you."
Milverton's eyes darkened for a moment before he grinned again "because it's fun."
"So are theatre productions not good enough for you anymore?" She asked sarcastically.
He laughed. A sickening laugh.
"Why watch a measly play when I can make my own?" He smiled. "Tragedy, comedy, romance...All three seem to apply to your life."
"What—?"
"For example, sweet and innocent nine year old (Name), bright beyond her years, possibly the most intelligent woman, maybe even person, to ever live." Milverton continued, interrupting the woman, a bead of sweet running down her forehead. "A box turns up one day, her dead brother's head inside. How Tragic. She swears to take down the British empire, and has quite a lot of fun in the process. Most of your little boy toys ended up dead or missing, though. It was no coincidence that Theodore Arden, your little male friend, happened to have the father who ordered your brother's grizzly death. And it was no coincidence that they had been tortured to death soon after, aswell as blown up by a few bombs, how comedic."
How did he know this? How did he know any of this? Even with a photographic memory, she still couldn't remember the exact details of all these occurrences, her brain had blocked them out for the most part.
And (name) swore she only brushed over the surface of all this with William. Because she trusted him. She glanced at him, an expression of hurt on her pretty face, then forced her eyes back to Milverton.
Did William tell him?
"And of course, he wasn't the last man in your life, but he was certainly your first." He enunciated the last word, highlighting the double meaning. "I can barely count them on one hand. But then, after a strange disappearance of Lord Ashfordshire, You found the one. How romantic," Milverton looked between (Name) and William. "You were married, but seemingly didn't consummate, and I wasn't the only tabloid following your love life around, but I certainly got the most information. How would your husband," he gestured to William "feel about that?"
"You know nothing." She hissed between clenched teeth.
"Oh? I know nothing, do I?" Milverton chuckled. "For a genius, you make this so easy, my lady. The jokes just write themselves."
William looked uneasy. He had long since settled in his feelings for his wife, which felt ridiculous if he said them out loud. He had confided a few times in his brothers, his friends, and he knew he was in the worst possible circumstance right now. He was in love with. And he was the Lord of crime. The Lord of crime, in love with a girl he originally perceived to be rude and spoilt and cruel and promiscuous.
And he loved her, with his entire soul.
"How would your husband feel, knowing he was likely your last option for a prospective husband? How would your husband feel," Milverton continued, each word leaking venom. "Knowing you only consummated your marriage because a few rumours fuelled your need to become with child?"
William and (Name) made brief eye contact, with her looking at him apologetically. He didn't look at her with anything more than a neutral expression.
"How would your husband feel knowing you had an affair the entire time you were in (home country), towards the end of last year?"
Her gaze could no longer linger on the blond, looking straight at Milverton with a mixture of anger and shame.
William's eyes widened for a moment, waiting for her to say something in her defence.
Nothing.
To the people of The British Empire, I apologise.
I, Lady (Name) (Last Name) Moriarty, have recently discovered something no woman would want to find.
Recently, I had been lead to believe my husband was having an affair, due to the secrets he kept and the life he concealed. This, like most marital issues, was to be kept private. That was until I discovered something far, far worse.
A few days ago, I had caught my husband, William James Moriarty, arriving home late, drenched in blood. Naturally, I was suspicious, and this event had led to me uncovering a truth I cannot keep to myself.
William James Moriarty is the Lord of Crime.
Had I known earlier, perhaps I may have been able to prevent the unjust murders of many innocent people, such as that of Adam Whitely. The guilt I feel is immeasurable, and I intend to financially compensate all those involved as well as provide evidence for this conspiracy to the authorities.
Once again, I apologise for all the harm my ignorance has caused,
Lady (Name) (Last Name).
"I assume this was all fabricated," Mycroft placed the newspaper back on his desk after reading from it aloud.
"You know me so well," (Name) chuckled. "I do intend to repay all those who need it..deep down you don't really have an issue with what transpired. I know you don't." She said, her voice dropping a tone. "William himself asked me to write that, so don't think I'm sacrificing him to save myself."
Mycroft scoffed. "Well you've never had a good history with men and their feelings."
"Why would I? Most of the men who were involved with me in some way were all horrible. It makes no difference that I married a serial killer," she smiled, taking another sip of tea. "I have all I needed now. I won't bother you again, Mycroft dear, I assure you...although you will miss me. I was the only opponent to the British Empire who actually entertained you."
"I don't consider destroying merchant ships entertaining," He recalled. "Or how about that time the new prime minister said something unkind to you and you set Parliament alight?"
"First of all," (Name) defended herself. "I had valid reason for destroying those slave ships, you know very well what trades they're involved in. I'd rather not look away from such devastating practices, there are real people involved, not just figures and statistics," she argued "And second of all, that wasn't the prime minister, they were something else, Home Secretary I think, and they were very offensive to me. You know how I get when I'm angry."
"Well at least he managed to survive." He muttered.
"I've not killed that many people." She retorted.
"I can't even give an exact amount, but most of the people you killed were important people, and it affected our economy, our politics, and our society in multiple ways," Mycroft explained. "Which returns us to the main issue...Your husband — can I even refer to him as such?"
(Name) hummed to herself "Well, I was thinking of having the marriage annulled, but William seems to have other ideas. Regardless, he is, unfortunately, still my husband and the future father of my child."
"I gathered as much. Hopefully they don't inherit your spitefulness." He rolled his eyes. "Anyways, your husband has murdered more nobles than I can recall, some of which we still have yet to confirm. Albert has been vague with me on the issue. What do you suppose you'll do when the economy comes crashing down? What about if the people, the working class population, blame you for their issues? They'll revolt soon, riot around your family home..Now what must you do?"
"They won't blame me if the elite don't do it first. That's how it always happens anyways, blame the marginalised when in reality, it's the rich's fault. The only reason it's causing issue is because the time between the murders has shortened to a mere few hours. Previously, it had been much longer, so another rich old man could fill the void and everyone kept their low paying jobs," she explained. "And the rioting is part of William's plan."
"So that's it? You'll let him die and return to (Home country), have that unfortunate child, then raise it as an heir?" He asked, although she wasn't supposed to answer. "Your life would be so much better if you had married one of her majesty's sons."
"No thanks, they're all hideous," (Name) shook her head, making a face.
Mycroft fought back a laugh, trying to maintain his serious persona. "They are members of the royal family."
"And the inbreeding caused their unfortunate appearances. At least William was handsome. Now I'll have a son with perfect features," She half joked. She did choose William over so many other men because of his superior breeding, which is ironic with his background as a commoner.
"How are you so sure it'll be a boy?" Mycroft asked "wishful thinking?"
"No, I'd much rather a girl, a sweet little girl with beautiful hair I can style, but I know, it's just my intuition. It's never been wrong," (name) flashed a smile.
"No, I suppose not," He nodded "So, you're visiting my brother after I dismiss you?"
"You don't get to dismiss me, but yes, I am." She said. "I need to ask him a favour."
"Very well. We're done here," Mycroft stood up opening the door to his office. "Please keep me updated."
"I shall." She gave him a nod, bowing her head a little before leaving "farewell, and have a nice evening."
Although that morning she had her letter published by the press, 'confessing' her lack of involvement, she knew some would not be entirely convinced. After all, who better to place the blame on than a foreign woman? Yes she was far from innocent, and she didn't exactly want to be perceived as such, only going along with William's plan for the sake of her parents and home country.
So, she decided it would be much less likely that any rioters spot her if she secretly entered Sherlock's apartment, rather than from the front where anyone could see. He had been cleared of his murder charges that same day, now likely at home.
(Name) peered into the window, knocking slowly after a moment. The curtains drew open, revealing a slightly amused Sherlock. He opened the window wide enough for her to enter in her cloaked disguise. She slid inside, walking towards him and pulling her hood down.
"I wasn't expecting you, especially not like this," Sherlock laughed.
"Well, hopefully after all this blows over, you'll expect a lot more from me," she smiled, combing her fingers through her hair.
"Mhm..you're here about Liam, aren't you?" He asked, still remembering the incident with Milverton, but he decided against mentioning it. After the confrontation, ending in Sherlock shooting Milverton, he had heard (name) apologising to William from afar as they left, trying to get him to say something, but merely brushed her off with a claim he was busy.
"I am." (Name) nodded. "I just finished talking to your brother actually, apologising for the whole ordeal."
"Oh yeah, you sent that letter to the papers, right? I could tell most of it wasn't true, no wonder that brother of mine wanted to talk to you," Sherlock said, leaning against a wall. "You knew about this since the beginning."
"And I participated too. William used me as the whistleblower because nobody would expect such things from a woman." She explained, brows furrowing. "Actually, I'm probably worse than he is. Which is why I think it's unfair that he must sacrifice himself, and only himself, for the sake of everyone else. I don't see a crown of thorns on his head, he isn't obliged to do so."
"Classic Liam." He hummed. "So, let me guess. You orchestrated the Arden massacre, and were involved in the disappearance of Ashfordshire?"
"Amongst other things, yes. I also was the main planner with that whole sex trafficking scandal a while back, and I was the one who set us all up on the Noahtic." (Name) confessed.
"They never did find Ashfordshire's body..I assume you killed him though."
She sighed, recalling the story "If you had seen what I had, you'd kill him too. It still haunts me sometimes. And although I did kill him, William dealt with the body. It was so badly damaged and wounded that nobody would recognise it even if they found it."
"How intriguing. You know, (Nickname), I really wish I had met you sooner." Sherlock smiled. She reciprocated it with a bitter one. "So, what is the favour you're planning to ask me?"
"I don't know if Louis has already asked you to do so, he's been on edge all week so it's only reasonable to assume he's upset," She trailed off "I have my own plan, to convince William to stay, maybe just fake his death instead, I'm not entirely sure considering he hasn't been speaking to me much lately..But, if that fails, I want you to be there, when he tries to die. I want you to do everything you can to save him, and I'm sorry for asking so much of you."
"Who's to say I wouldn't do it regardless?" His smile widened.
(Name) let out a dry laugh. "In that case, I haven't anything to worry about.."
"You really love him, don't you?"
She nodded then glanced to the door, footsteps slowly creaking up the stairs. She glanced at Sherlock, nodding goodbye before climbing out the window, gripping onto a tree branch outside as he said his final words to her.
"Congratulations, by the way. That kid's going to be a genius." Sherlock whispered.
She hummed, a little surprised at first that he knew, but shook it off. He was the world's greatest consulting detective after all. She parted her lips to speak, but noticing the door slowly freak open to reveal William, who had yet to spot her whilst she slipped out the window, ready to return to her carriage home.
Once she arrived home, she waited in William's bedroom, that which could have been a shared one between the couple if their marriage had taken a different route. The sheets clearly hadn't been slept in for days, likely due to the recent killing sprees William had been on. Honestly, nobody had slept much recently anyways. (Name) couldn't remember the last time she had gotten in a full 8 hours of sleep without interruptions. She had been plagued by nightmares as of late, and she had too much to do so sleep seemed like a waste of time. She had made arrangements for the following morning to board a ship back to (Home country) with her parents and hopefully with William too. Her room was empty and everything was now packed away and on the ship somewhere.
William eventually returned home, darting straight to his bedroom to clean up, only to be met with (Name) waiting for him. She saw the blood staining his cheek and the tired look in his eyes which once shone so brightly, now making him resemble a corpse rather than the man she had finally come to terms with being the one she loved with all her heart.
"The moon is beautiful tonight, isn't it?"
He didn't respond.
"William?" She called out to him again, approaching him, but strangely enough it seemed there was a boarder preventing her from coming too close. "We need to talk about this whole situation...I.." she bit her lip, voice cracking as she tried to find her words. She felt nervous, reminded about how he reacted after finding out about the affair.
"What?" William muttered softly, albeit exhausted.
(Name) almost seemed startled at how different this current William was to how her usual William was. "I'm somewhat offended you didn't tell me about this plan of yours earlier." She said, although that wasn't really what she intended to do. It was in typical (Name) fashion, in a sense.
William spoke again, his voice aching as he wiped some blood off his face with his palm "You had known this since the beginning, it was in the contract after all..besides, we spoke about this earlier, a few days ago when I asked you to write that letter to the press."
"You're right..my mistake." The noblewoman whispered "The plan was that I either marry again for an heir or have a child and remain a widow." (Name) recalled, stood before William, her hands interlinked as she fidgeted with the fabric of her gloves "But..it's not what I want anymore."
She couldn't help but become incredibly aware of how selfish she continued to sound, with every sentence, every word, every syllable.
"Not what you want?" William repeated curiously. Although he could barely bring himself to speak, he still attempted to keep this conversation afloat, in hopes of completing one of the last phases of this plan, his final problem.
(Name) took a deep breath "You're not dying. I prohibit it," she said harshly, her voice slowly raising, something William noticed happened every time she was frustrated. Once again, she felt selfish, but selfishness may have been the only way to counteract the selfless sacrifice of William dying. "You're not allowed to die like this when there is clearly another way!"
"Another way?" The blond mocked "(name), there is no 'other way'! I have the blood of hundreds on my hands, and the only way to compensate for all the lives I have ruined and all the pain I have caused is by dying!"
(Eye colour) eyes widened momentarily. (Name) took her husband's hands in hers "And you won't let me help you clean these hands?" She asked, kneeling before him as he sat on the bed. "William, please just listen to me for once!" She pleaded, begging him on her knees, an image that (Name) from a year ago would have deemed impossible. "My parents have already heard of what we have done, I spoke to them a few nights ago, and they helped me formulate a plan in which nobody else has to die for the sake of this stupid class system!"
"We..We can run away! We'll go to (home country) with mother and father and...and we can take Albert and Louis and Josephine and everyone else!" (Name) continued, her grasp on his hands tightening "I don't care about the tension between (home country) and this pathetic empire anymore! If any conflict breaks out, I can deal with it! I'll do anything, I just want you by my side. We won't have to worry about anything anymore, William!"
Williams lips parted, then shut, then parted again, as if he was choosing his words cautiously before finally muttering no more than her name, in a whisper so silent that it would be overpowered by the sound of a mere draft, leaking through the window.
"(Name)"
She looked up at him, her eyes glassy with tears that were threatening to spill, another word and the dam would break.
"William, please," (Name) whispered, her voice cracking, squeezing his soft hands gently "I couldn't bare it if you were to die...didn't you consider that? There's so so much to live for, even if the nobility has made you feel otherwise..."
"(Name), please don't do this," He whispered, blinking slowly and opening his eyes once more, the ends of his eyelashes sticking together with shiny tears.
Even being sat there now felt more torturous than any form of pain he had ever felt. William had been hurt so much to the point physical pain had no effect on him anymore. He had been smacked in cruel orphanages, kicked by passers by, cut as a result of both his pride and his namesake's sadistic nature, whipped by his own adoptive mother, and yet he was being caressed so gently, but felt this pain was much more unbearable than anything he'd ever experienced in his twenty four years of pitiful existence.
Seeing (Name), his beloved wife, sat in front of him, begging him to continue to live, something most men around him could do without a second thought (which he felt envious of, and then guilt for his envy), was devastating.
He had considered her proposal, imagining a life where he and (name) could exist peacefully. They could read at one of the many libraries in the (Last Name) Manor, whilst (name) would teach him (mother tongue), and be by her side on her travels to various countries. He'd play chess with (name) until she finally won against him. He's finally be able to sleep peacefully in her arms without fear for his comrades and nightmares riddled with guilt. He'd live a life without needing to stain his hands with a single drop of blood again...
And yet he couldn't.
The more William imagined a future with her, the more it hurt knowing this was simply impossible for him to have. He wasn't allowed to be happy. He wasn't allowed to move on. He had killed too many, there was no turning back, no matter how badly he wanted to do so. It was cowardly, William knew that, but so was running away and leaving England in shambles because of his own selfish plans.
"Don't you understand, William? I'll do anything.." (Name) looked into his eyes once more "I.." she took a deep breath, voice shaky
"I love you."
#moriarty the patriot#—false lovers 💋#william james moriarty#william moriarty#william moriarty x reader#yuukoku no moriarty#mtp william#moriarty the patriot x reader#yuukoku no moriarty x reader
20 notes
·
View notes
Text
I wish I was a native English speaker and wasn't born in this country in the first place. (the country itself is not the issue, it's the government)
#I mean#I would've loved to be born in like Helsinki or tallinn or something#because Europe is better than here#but I also would love to write in English without overthinking everything#and checking words and wondering if what I wrote is OK#native speakers know so many phrases that I don't#and that don't even come up to my mind#personal#sometimes I read those books and I kinda envy the way they know the language#so easy yet so efficient#being able to knock people out with your writing with such simple words#being able to describe so much in so few words#*deep sigh*#not to mention that I wouldn't have such a horrible accent I'm ashamed of#a girl can dream
1 note
·
View note
Text
Recent ones of these even though they all look the same lol.. forcing myself to document progress..
#I can average like 2500 words a day for a while and then something gets in the way and I don't write for a week or something#which then sort of erases my previous Doing Good At Keeping Up With It lol.. but... alas#Still moving slowly forward...#There's a 'community board' place in game where you can go to look at a few things and some of whats there is little 'odd jobs' the player#can do for a little extra coin (since you can buy items in the game/might need coin).#Thhough of course since it's just interactive fiction/visual novel it's not like... actual minigames or something. Just like..#mini stories of your character going places and doing stuff and having some interactions with the other places in the world#Like for example since modern refrigerators don't exist in this world one of the odd jobs you can do is help with doing ice deliveries#or there's one odd job where you assist a guy recharging the city's main bell tower/time keeping place by helping him go around and replace#the iriminel crystals (kind of like magical batteries - stones that are able to store energy that way and be used to fuel passive#enchantments). or one where you help food prep for the cooks at a nearby automat. etc. etc.#Just little short things to get a better glimpse of how the wider city is outside of just interacting with the main characters. plus earn#a tiny bit of coin. Though because they're so short there's not really branching paths or anything much for choices beyond#usually an optional dialogye menu where you can talk to the person you're working with and ask them personal#or work related questions if inclined to do so. It'd be cool if they were more in depth but.......erugh...#I have so much writing left to do already lol.. Also since it's really just to get money I could have just had them#all be like a single sentence of 'you go here and you do this all day then you come home. + 15 coins. yaay' and thats all#So maybe it's a middle ground to elaborate upon them at all. Just enough extra details to maybe be a little interesting#like ''ooh my character is in a little cart riding through the misty morning forest on their way to deliver ice'' . but also not so much#that it takes away time from like... the literal actual main game lol#ANYWAY. That's what all these are. There are like 10 optional little world exploring/job things you can do. and each I guess seem to be#about 2.500 words ish. That's including the optional chatting menus though. but still. reasonable for a little side thing I guess.#I got finished with one character's quests and stuff so I decided to take a break to work on some of the other little things like the Odd#Jobs and the 8 characters you can find around the world to have short conversations with that aren't actual main characters either. etc.#Then I shall return back to the Main Actual Things. ... augh...... still so much to do...#Which I could also just cut everything extra out but... idk.. since it's mostly all text I feel the need to give more options to flesh out#the actual setting somehow. Since in a 3D game you can walk around and explore the world and stuff. And of course there#are pictures. but it would take me infinitely longer to do detailed art of so much of the entire city youre in or etc. So i guess my versio#of still having some amount of ''exploration'' is just.. set up optional paths where more of the world can at least be Described.#You can't actually walk through a 3d orchard. or an elaborate bell tower. or an elven shrine. But you can Read About being in them LOL
5 notes
·
View notes
Text
not gonna lie the whole eurovision thing is a huge bummer because it has genuinely been the main thing i have been looking forward to this year since seeing the entirety of the grand finals for the first time last year. i've known it was tenuous for a while considering that israel continues to israel, but it feels very final now and. yeah.
#what's a word to describe the feeling of more and more Good things being tarnished by Bad Actors?#it continues unabated.#when you are depressed and have few sources of joy these things feel like very tangible losses#also i don't provide much commentary here bc i don't feel like i have much new to say but:#that israel has been able to push SO FAR with SO LITTLE political pushback is mind boggling to me.#i have no idea what's going on.#lex rambles
1 note
·
View note
Text
Villain!Ghost x Pregnant!Wife!Reader
Synopsis: Your husband wants your company..
A/n: GUYS OMG, I know it's been 1 month and a little more since my last official work. I've been procrastinating on this for so long since I only have less than a week till school again.. Also everyone I love on this app is just disappearing, like @ghost-cyphera just deleted her account 4 days ago and I got the notif but didn't see it in time, I didn't even get to say goodbye. Just wanted to apologize to you guys after being gone for so long as well. Also, another villain!Ghost drabble? 👀
Finding it difficult to walk was one of the least things you've suspected you'd be concerned of upon conceiving, always needing your handmaiden's help in such a mundane task was shameful to say the least but your husband insisted.
If it hadn't been the hand maiden then it would've been him instead, you couldn't keep him from his duties from the kingdom as he carried even yours. Wanting you to turn your attention to the health of the babe growing in you and especially yourself..
"My lady.." you were pulled out of your thoughts by the voice of your handmaiden. You took in a breath from the cool air that blew on your face as you stood by the stone railing..
"Yes, Leticia?" You turned to her..
"The prince consort has requested your company.." Leticia announced, you nod as you removed your hand from the cold stone. You glanced once more to the people of your kingdom, going about their day and life before gently lifting yourself off from leaning on the stone.
Leticia offered you her arm to help you walk more efficiently..
...
"You sent for me..?" You asked your husband, he was sat and signing another set of documents and scrolls. You closed the door, palms gently pushing till you heard it click.
"No, I told them to announce my arrival to you. How dare they exert my wife by giving her false instructions.." he huffed to which you laughed. He wouldn't do anything violent about it, as he so usually does with staff that don't comply but he knew it'd upset you if anything gory were to happen to them.
"I am quite alright, I need to move around too. It's proven to be good for our child." You said, sitting next to the graciously comfortable chair next to his working desk that he had someone make for you.
You felt relief from the pressure previously on your back, hand on the bump of your stomach and with that a sigh came from your lips. Peacefully watching your husband, the sound of the satisfying scratching of the quill on the crisp papers.
You felt his hand grasp yours, he pulled it, lips resting on the back. His affection made your heart beat faster and he felt it, the pad of his index finger on your wrist. The thumping made him chuckle as you smiled and leaned your head on his shoulder.
"You should rest for a while, my love. You'd work yourself to sickness at this point." You kiss his cheek softly. He put his quill down, "If that's my wife wants.." he said.
He wrapped his arm around you, the other hand placed on your baby bump. His thumb gently rubbing, you jolted a bit feeling a strong kick..
It made you groan, how restless the rascal is. Your husband adjusted his hand to feel the next kick.. he'd swear it was a girl, not that he'd care for that sort of thing. He'd kill for them either way, especially for you. He could stare at you all day, swollen with his child.
How glowing you looked wrapped in the finest silk and the gold and jewels in your hair and body clicking upon contact with another piece, he wished he could tell you how utterly speechless you'd leave each man by just walking passed them but to him no word is enough to describe you.
At least he could spend these small intimate moments with just you and you alone, free of the world for even just a few minutes as he needed a break from the work he very much was eager to do to be able to receive praise from his wife..
My CoD Masterlist
Taglist: @wishesforyou @puff0o0 @simping4konig @simp4konig @blingblong55 @azereus @rustic-guitar-notes @callsignsnowpunisher @anonymuslydumb @skeletalgoats @icarustypicalfall @connorsui @capuccino192 @miss-gms-and-the-rotten-womb @celestialhole @the-second-sage @starryylies @everlastingmoonlightsworld @keiva1000 @iexiam @drewsmusee @konigceo @duck-a-doodle
#cod x reader#aethelwyne lia writes#ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#Our Throne of Ruin#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost x you#simon ghost x reader#simon ghost riley#ghost simon riley#simon ghost#simon riley call of duty#simon riley#simon riley x you#simon ghost x you#simon ghost riley x you#simon ghost fluff#ghost x female reader#ghost x plus size reader#ghost x y/n#simon riley cod#dad!ghost#villain au#royalty au#fantasy au#cod au#ghost call of duty#ghost cod#princess!reader
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
(the word panties is used to describe something reader uses but still gender neutral)
nsfw
pervy neighbor simon who isnt around very often, but when he is he always finds and excuse to talk to you.
simon will fix your shower, carry the gas tank into your kitchen, fix broken doors, anything. he will always say something is odd about your place and that he will come tomorrow to fix it. and being the cute and kind person that you are, you always cook/bake him something, as a thank you.
simon will always warn you about leaving your door and windows closed at night, you never know what creepy guys are lurking around (him).
little did you know that your missing underweare was inside of his nightstand, hiden in his pocket as he left your apartment with a sweet thank you cupcake on his hand.
you also werent aware that his room was right next to yours, and he could hear you touching yourself every night when he left.
simon who lies to you, and says thay he lost his keys and the change of lock will be done at monday, too bad its friday night and he doesn't have anywere to sleep.
"oh~ you could sleep here... i have plenty of space."
"oh no, i couldn't, i don't want to bother you."
"It's fine, you always do so much for me."
simon, who sleeps on his underware because 'all of his clothes are locked inside his flat', he smiles at your blush. you give him a few of your pillows and a blanket.
2 hours has passed and simon has not been able to close his eyes. his hard dick pressed against the soft blanket you gave him, your scent filling his nose. he cant control himself, he goes to your bathroom, a soft pair of used panties wrap around his dick, soft grunts and moans of your name leaving his mouth.
the next morning, when you wake up to the smell of coffee he smiled at you, pretending that he didn't hear you moaning his name from the bathroom.
#ghost x male reader#ghost x reader#simon riley x male reader#simon riley x reader#ghost smut#simon riley smut
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
Sleep well, amour.
Parings: Alastor x reader
Summary: You’ve been very intrested in Alastor ever since you met him. He invites you to see his recording studio, which you accept. Then you ask if you can stay and listen to him host! While listening, you fall asleep. How does he react?
Word count: 2844
Warnings: Ummm not really much? Alastor being Alastor! One mention of not being able to sleep sometimes, mention of seeing people in hell doing dr*gs, k*lling eachother, and fighting, mention of reader having bad social skills (?)
part two
A/N: UM!! this is my first time writing for alastor, so apologies if it isn’t the best. Please give me any feedback you want, I’d love to hear it! Also sorry for any spelling mistakes. I hope you enjoy :’)
Alastor the radio demon. You know of the things he’s done, you know that people are quite literally terrified of him. But for some reason... you feel a certain way towards him that you can’t describe, but it’s surely not fear.
You’ve had a some-what odd admiration of him since you landed in hell, only a few months ago. You got spotted by Charlie when you first got to hell. She noticed you looking around nervously and lost, and put two and two together that you must be new. She very kindly introduced herself which was refreshing because.. well.. it’s hell. Everywhere you looked people were fighting, doing drugs, and even killing each other. You were glad there were kind people even down here.
“Hi, you! Uh, you lost?” Charlie smiled you and waved.
“Um yeah! I’m guessing this is hell, huh?” You awkwardly chuckle. Social skills weren’t ever your thing, it seems they haven’t got better after you died, either.
“Yep! This is hell! You must be new? I’m Charlie! Charlie Morningstar. It’s so nice to meet you.” She smiled and stuck out her hand for you to shake.
“Nice to meet you, Charlie! My names Y/n.” You politely smiled back and shook her hand.
After that meeting, Charlie showed you to the hotel in which you eagerly accepted to stay at, her being the only sane thing you’ve seen down here. It was a pretty nice place, no 5 star hotel like back on earth, but it was something you’re very grateful for. Who knows what would’ve happened to you if you haven’t met her.
While she was showing you around, someone caught your eye. He was a tall man, very polite and respectful looking. He was dressed head to toe in old fashioned attire, with a cane to suit his charming look. He was smiling in a way that made you look at him like he was something you wanted to inspect under a magnifying glass.
He glanced at you and smiled larger, stepping over to you and Charlie.
“My, my! What do we have here? Charlie! You didn’t tell me that we’ve got more guests? It’s a pleasure to meet you, my dear! The names Alastor!” He spoke politely.
His voice was sort of.. Radio-like? You found it soothing.
“Haha yeah! I found them wandering around on the street this morning! They’re a newcomer, their name is Y/n.” She spoke back, excited to introduce you.
“Y/n! Well, my, my. That’s quite a lovely name!” He said. “Say.. do you listen to radio? I host a brilliant radio broadcast that’ll give you some real insight on this place!” He said enthusiastically.
“Oh.. haha thank you” You smile. “I do actually! I love radio shows.” You immediately feel drawn towads him. You cant tell if it’s just the new scenery or what.. but you want to just sit and chat with him for hours.
Alastor perks up at that. “Oh you do, do you?” He smiled more.
“Yeah! Back when I was.. uhm.. alive, I actually had a whole playlist of them! What do you do your show about?” You ask.
Alastor is delighted to have you take interest in his show. “Well, dear, I do all sorts of things on there! Yes, yes, you think of it and I’ve most probably done it! Most commonly known is the souls I entrap and prison, as I broadcast their screams of horror all over this horrible place and people get to hear the noises of their never-ending torture and demise. But! I also just made a wonderful segment on my mother’s Jambalaya recipe!” He stated.
While part of those sentences gave you chills, you still seemed to take interest in him.
“Well,” you chuckle. “I will certainly check it out!” You smile.
“Ah! Wonderful news, my dear.” He said while he twirled his cane.
Charlie was watching you interact with him and noticed how you looked at him, as if admiring. She smile and said, “well! We better finish the tour.”
She motions for you to follow her and you do, waving Alastor goodbye.
He waves back and yells, “goodbye, sweetheart! Lovely to have met you.”
After that, you wanted absolutely everything to do with him. You’ve also got to know the other people staying at the hotel. Angel, Vaggie, Husk, Niffty, and Sir Pentious. They were overall kind people. Husk found your interest in Alastor to be no good.
“Yeah, no. That, whatever thing you have created in your mind about him, isn’t true. He’s vile, Y/n. Trust me on that.” He grunts.
Angel thought you had some kind of kink towards “scary, creepy men.” Which wasn’t true because you didn’t even find him scary. You found him charming.
“Ah.. Alastor? Fucking sexy weirdo if I do say so myself. He’s got some reaaal problems but hey, if you’re into that-“ You cut him off by saying it wasn’t like that & that you don’t think anything sexual towards him.
One day, you were talking to Sir Pentious about his “crush” on Cherry Bomb. He completely denied it but you could tell from his blush and his nervous demeanour that he was very interested in her.
You were caught off guard when you heard that radio voice coming up from behind you.
“Y/n, my dear! I have a question for you.” Alastor came and stood beside you, looking down from where you’re sitting.
“Al! Hey, what’s up?” You ask, containing your excitement.
Sir Pentious excused himself quickly, seeing one of his “egg boys” were being played with by Niffty. She isn’t one to be gentle.
“So, I know how you’ve been listening to my radio show as of late, and I was wondering if you’d like to see where the magic happens!” He states.
“R-really? I’d be honoured!” You say, smiling.
“Ah! Lovely. Come now, this way.”
You get up and he locks arms with you and chats about his new microphone that he got.
Once you guys arrive, you’re shocked. It looks very professional and comfortable. It suits him heavily. There’s a big open window, a desk, some chairs and sofas, a bunch of technical stuff on the desk along with his new mic that you recognize from his descriptions, and a deer coat hanger?
“Wow, Alastor. This place is so actually so sick. I love it. And the new microphone suits you!” You say. “Thank you for showing me, really.”
Typically, Alastor would never show someone something personal of his, including his studio, but you are an exception. He isn’t sure what it is about you but he doesn’t seem to hate you as much as he does with anyone else. At first he was weirded out, but now he just embraces it. He also feels protective of you. He doesn’t know exactly why you’re even down here. For as far is he can tell, you’re an angel. Always being kind even to those who aren’t kind to you, always saying “please” and “thank you,” all that jazz. Jazz! You even like jazz music, his favourite. He told you that he lived on earth the time jazz music was popular. The 20’s and 30’s. That explains his vocabulary and how he dresses. You just find it more interesting and take time to ask questions about what it was like in that time.
“Why of course, my dear! If I’d want to show anyone here, it would be you.” He says, giving you his iconic smile.
You have a thought. “Hey, Al? Would it be alright if the next time you do a show, I could stay and listen?”
You hope he doesn’t think this is odd.
Alastor raises a brow. “Why would you want to do that?” He asks.
You panic, thinking you went too far by asking and now he’s going to cut you off or something.
“Ha! Kidding, sweetheart! Of course you can. I love when my broadcast is wanted to be listened to. Though I love it as well when they don’t want to.” He says.
You’re relieved, a bit scared, but still relieved.
“Say!” He says. “I was going to make one tonight talking about this silly technology box that thinks he is better than me! You know, expose all his lies and secrets to my listeners, and unwilling listeners. Maybe broadcast it all throughout hell!” He starts laughing manically. Then calms down and stares at you.
“Would you want to stay and listen, hm? I can do it now! I didn’t have any plans today going forward and well, getting it out sooner is better than later, I always say.” He asks.
You know he’s talking about Vox when he mentioned the technology box. Him and Vox have a sort of rivalry going on. Though Alastor seems to not care much about him, Vox is sure obsessed. He’s even gone so far as to making posters about him. Which areee.. not much of a resemblance.
This offer strikes you and you immediately perk up. “Yes! I’d love to.” You say.
You don’t think Alastor knows this but whenever you’re struggling to sleep, you put on his radio show and his voice comforts you to sleep. You’re sure if you told him, he would find it weird.
Little did you know, Alastor already knew. He walked past your room one night and heard static sounds coming from your quarters. He immediately was intrigued and put his ear close to your door to hear his voice. He was surprised, but not weirded out. He found it delightful that you found comfort in his voice. It’s not everyday someone does. Usually it invokes terror and anxiety on anyone who hears. This was new, and he didn’t hate it.
“Lovely! Let me get all set up. You can sit wherever you feel the most comfortable!” He says, adjusting his mic and pressing a buttons on his table.
You find a spot and sit down. Feeling honored to even be in the same room as him, let alone HIS room.
“Ahem! Welcome ladies and gentlemen-“ He goes off into his introduction, before winking at you and starting.
After about 20 minutes, you begin to feel tired and put your head on the side of the wall, still listening but with your eyes closed.
Alastor immediately notices and smirks, knowing how his voice effects you. He continues on and after about another 20 minutes, he finishes up. You’re asleep, slightly smiling.
He walks over to you and looks down.
“My, my. You really are an interesting one, aren’t you?” He whispers. He smiles more softly than he usually does and looks around to find a purple blanket hanging on his deer coat hanger, and gently places it on you.
He feels his heart fluttering while looking down at you and he immediately shrugs it off.
“Mm well, my dear.. I guess you can stay here. I’ll just be over there, transferring my broadcast to the other radios around town.” He says and points to his table.
“Sleep well, amour.” He speaks softly.
#:alastor#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel alastor#alastor x reader#alastor the radio demon x reader#the radio demon x reader#hazbin hotel x reader#alastor x reader hazbin hotel#hes so pookie bear guys UGUHG#i love him sm#my works#alastor imagine#hazbin hotel imagine#alastor x you
7K notes
·
View notes
Note
hi ! love ur fics <3
can i request reader as being a massive flirt publicly towards spencer but when its Intimate and Private, reader is suddenly Stunned and Speechless and Blushing and spencer kinda gets the confidence to Do Stuff
im sorry if that was the stupidest described ask ever achh but lov u !
pairing: s9!spencer reid x bau!fem!reader genre: established relationship, bombshell-ish(?) reader, fluff warnings: 16+ for kind of suggestive? he’s so in love UGH a/n: thank you for requesting !! wc: 1.22k
Spencer thinks that you are the most beautiful person in the world. He thinks that you’re glowing every time you walk into the room– no matter how upset or disgruntled you may be– and as cliche as it may seem, he’s certain that swarms butterflies fill his stomach and cloud his mind. In fact, he thinks that you have always had that effect on him, ever since he’s met you. You’re touchy, and despite Spencer’s general aversion to physical touch, he finds that he doesn’t mind your germs much.
Very often he finds himself at your mercy, with the way your fingers brush against his face as if it’s nothing, as if that movement alone was something that you do with everyone (you’ve only ever done it with him). There are other instances where you’ve been very blatant in your attraction towards him, so much so that he ends up with his cheeks hot more often than not. A part of him is grateful that though you work in the FBI, it isn’t his division. He doubts he’d be able to see the end of it.
“Spencer,” you gush, curling your fingers into the ends of his hair. Or rather, lack of hair. “You got a haircut. You’re supposed to consult me first, you know.”
He laughs, looking up at you as you stand over him while he sits at his desk. “Is that what a good boyfriend is supposed to do?”
“Yes.” You speak with mock indignation, properly running your fingers through his hair from his fringe to the back of his head. “It’s so short.”
“Do you hate it?” There’s a momentary pang of unease that strikes at his heart. “Maybe I should have consulted you.”
“No, baby, it looks really good.” You smile at him, pressing a kiss to his hairline. “You’re warm. Do you have a fever?”
Of course I’m warm, Spencer wants to say while you continue to dote on him, your hands travelling to his collar next and brushing against his throat. You’re touching me in the middle of the bullpen.
He opts to not say anything when he sees your knowing smile. You’re doing this on purpose. He clicks his tongue, squeezing at your waist lightly as you lean over him to kiss his forehead. He’ll let you win this battle; he’s going to get you back.
***
He doesn’t really know how to get you back. There are a few harmless things he’d thought of doing: sneaking into your department and hiding your mug on the top shelf (he fears that you’d ask someone, a taller more handsome someone, to rescue it for you), not wearing the tie you picked out for him that morning (he can already envision your disappointed frown and his chest aches at the imaginary you getting upset because of him), and putting toothpaste in your Oreos (he doesn’t want to die).
All of these ideas go down the drain and he ends up not getting back at you for days. It doesn’t help that he’s been gone for a case while you’ve been stuck at home. It isn’t all bad, and a part of him wishes that he can hold himself to the same level of confidence as Derek when Penelope calls him with flirtatious motives. You do virtually the same thing.
Your words are honey as you shower him with compliments, ending him with a simple “Hey, gorgeous.”
It is enough to make his heart leap to his throat and his cheeks to warm to a pretty pink. There’s not much overlap between the Human Resources Branch and the BAU, especially considering that you assist more on the training and hiring side of things, so there aren’t many opportunities for you to fluster him when he’s out of the office. He finds that you always make an excuse.
“Hi,” he responds softly, avoiding the teasing gazes of Emily and Derek. “Is… are you okay?”
“Do I need to not be okay to talk to my lovely boyfriend?”
You’re teasing him, poking fun at the way he so easily surrenders to you. He resists the urge to run out the room.
“Stop,” he warns half-heartedly. He says your name quietly, tapping his fingers at the edge of the table. “Is there something you needed?”
He can practically hear you smile as you respond, the sound of your mouse clicking in the background. “Oh, yeah. My computer says that my storage is full. What do I do?”
“Your storage is full,” he repeats, smiling. “That’s why you called me?”
“It’s lunchtime in Santa Monica, right?”
He relents, cheeks hurting from how hot and stretched out they are. “Yes.”
“Then it shouldn’t be a problem.”
He puffs out a breath of air, running his fingers through his hair. “You’re ridiculous.”
“You’re lovely.” He can imagine you batting your eyes, your smile saccharine. “Don’t you wish that you were here, gorgeous?”
He’s definitely going to get you back.
***
Spencer goes to your apartment once the case ends, his eyes dreary with sleep and the horrors that he saw only a few hours prior. Your apartment key hangs next to his on his keychain– a limited edition Tardis charm that you got him for his birthday. He huffs out a breath, unlocking your door and stepping inside. He’s met with you dancing around in your kitchen, headphones on whilst holding a wooden spoon. A part of him is concerned with how easily he could slip into your home without being notice, but the other part can’t help but smile at how carefree you look, and he leans against the wall to stare.
He doesn’t get the opportunity to stare for long. It’s comical, the way you jump upon seeing him, eyes wide as you rip your headphones off.
“You’re back! You scared me.” A smile stretches across your lips while you press your palm to your chest whilst taking steps towards him. “Don’t do that ever again.”
Spencer laughs, toeing his shoes off and resting his hands on your waist. His head dips down to meet your gaze, peering up at you with a soft smile. “You look beautiful.”
Your cheeks glow warm and you break eye contact. “Yeah?”
“Mm.” He hooks his pointer finger under your chin, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. “I missed you.”
He notes the way you don’t respond, in some sort of daze while your lips part in both surprise and flusteredness. He understands your sentiments– it isn’t often that he initiates affection.
“Did you miss me, too?” Spencer asks softly, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he speaks.
“Of course I did,” you croak out, heat building in your head.
Spencer chuckles, a smug smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. He’s doing this on purpose, flustering you to the point of no return. He kisses you again, one hand holding the base of your head while the other squeezes at the flesh of your waist. It’s dizzying, the taste of coffee on his tongue and the feel of his fingers in your hair.
“Hey, gorgeous,” he murmurs once he’s pulled away. His thumb rubs a line from the back of your ear to where your jawline starts, and he can’t help but chuckle. “Where did that confidence go, hm?”
reblogs are always appreciated!
#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds#matthew gray gubler#matthew gray gubler x reader#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid x reader fluff#criminal minds fluff#criminal minds x reader fluff#matthew gray gubler fluff#matthew gray gubler x reader fluff#mgg#mgg x reader#mgg x reader fluff#mgg fluff
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
Communities are a new way to connect with the people on Tumblr who care about the things you care about! Browse Communities to find the perfect one for your interests or create a new one and invite your friends and mutuals!
332 notes
·
View notes
Text
part 2 - read part 1 here
✰ pairing. — emo!hs x reader
✰ genre. — early 2000s au, best friend’s older brother, childhood friends to lovers, smut, light angst.
✰ word count. — 10k+
✰ warnings. — swearing, family issues, friendship betrayal, mention of drugs/alcohol, smut [ cunnilingus, rough sex, …idk how else to describe it ] reader and hs are both 18+, minors dni, cliffhanger.
✰ a/n. PART 3 IS IN THE WORKS PART 3 IS IN THD WORKS PART 3 IS IN THE WORKS
✰ perm taglist. @intromortal @aanniikkaa @meetletsinmontauk @lovelyyf @right-person-wrong-time
———
“Did you seriously think I wouldn’t find out?” Chaeryeong is glaring daggers at you upon opening the front door, arms crossed across her chest as she eyes you. Her lips are twisted into a disgusted snarl, you’ve never seen her this upset before.
You swallow the lump in your throat, “Find out about what?”
She cocks her head to the side, squinting her eyes at you, “Don’t act like you don’t know.”
Fuck, you’re screwed. If there were a list of all the reasons why you shouldn’t have had sex with Lee Heeseung, the simple fact of him being your best friend’s brother would be number one.
With closed eyes, you let out a relieved sigh. As much as you wanted to wait to tell Chaeryeong about hooking up with Heeseung, it’d be an enormous weight off your shoulders not having to hide it any longer. It’d only been a few days since it happened, but you hate keeping secrets from her.
“How’d you find out?” You question, chewing on your bottom lip.
“My parents told me, duh.”
Holy crap, Heeseung told his parents the two of you had sex? Why the fuck would he do that?
“They did?” You ask, completely bewildered.
“Well, yeah!” Chaeryeong finally uncrosses her arms, demeanor completely changing as her gaze softens, “Why didn’t you tell me your sister got engaged?”
Thank God you didn’t elaborate any further.
“Oh! Because they probably aren’t gonna last.” You respond, stepping into the Lee household once Chaeryeong allows you to enter. It’s been a few days since you’ve been here, mostly due to the fact that you were completely avoiding Heeseung.
The empty condom in his trash bin had been plaguing your mind nonstop, you could barely even sleep from how embarrassed you were. Why did he fake his orgasm? What if he didn't fake an orgasm and just shot a blank? Did you do something wrong? Was he not attracted to you? Why was the condom empty?
Seeing him in person would’ve only intensified the thoughts roaming in your head, so you avoided him at all costs up until now. You’d promised the Lee siblings that you’d finally see Twilight with them and their friends despite not being able to function correctly around either of them.
Chaeryeong snickers, following you into the living room. “Ooh, that’s not nice.”
“It’s true, though,” you explain, “she’s still so young, only a few years older than your brother. I mean, can you picture Heeseung getting married in a few years?”
The regret from that question fills you almost immediately.
“Sure,” Chaeryeong responds, pausing to greet the eager doberman charging at her. “As long as he finds the right person; he’d get married in a heartbeat.”
You want to ask what Chaeryeong’s definition of “the perfect person” would be for Heeseung or the type of girl she’d be willing to set him up with. It’d probably be the unnamed, mysterious redhead you recently dreamed about curb stomping (yikes!).
You don’t respond to this, taking a seat on the sofa when the sudden shout of your name has you flinching. It’s Chaeryeong’s parents, excitedly greeting you with open arms as you politely stand to properly hug them. “I feel like it’s been so long since we’ve seen you! How’s your family? We just heard the news about your sister!” Mrs. Lee ambushes you with questions, all while cradling your face.
“About how she’s making the biggest mistake of her life?” You half-joke.
Mrs. Lee playfully waves a hand in your direction as she steps into the kitchen, her husband only a few feet behind. “Oh, don’t say that. I’m sure the two of them will be very happy together.” She turns to her husband, grabbing his hand, “I just can’t believe Imogen is getting married. I still remember when she first started high school.”
Mr. Lee sighs in disbelief. “I know,” he mumbles, nodding at you. “You’re up next soon, huh?”
“Maybe she can marry Heeseung,” Mrs. Lee joked, opening her fridge, “set him straight.”
There’s an idea.
“Gross, Mom. Don’t wish that on her.” Chaeryeong groans in disgust as she plops down next to you.
Well, that answers your previous question.
“We should probably get going, right? To make it in time for the trailers?” You ask.
“Yeah, we should.” Chaeryeong responds, tilting her head up towards the staircase, “Heeseung! Hurry up and come downstairs! We’re ready to go!”
“Gimmie a minute!” He shouts back, and a chill runs down your spine. It’s been too long since you’ve heard his voice. The last time you saw him, he was lying naked in his bed; you’re not sure how you’ll survive being around him all night knowing what your last encounter was like.
As promised, Heeseung is sliding down the staircase a minute later and nails the landing. He’s wearing a black Twilight shirt featuring the leading couple, black cargo pants, and, of course, black sneakers. He looks like his usual self until you take a closer look and notice the reddish-black eyeshadow that decorated his eyes. It wasn’t much, just enough to make his eyes pop, and it complimented him perfectly. A second later, you see the black nail polish neatly coated on his nails. You have to blink a few times to ensure this is real life and you’re not trapped in a wet dream.
He strolls into the kitchen, ignoring the stares from his parents before digging through the fridge. His mom clears her throat, crossing her arms at him.
“What?” He asks, retrieving a two-liter Mountain Dew bottle.
“Seriously, Heeseung? The makeup? The nail polish?” She questions, clearly frustrated.
Heeseung cocks his head, unscrewing the soda bottle’s lid. “What’s wrong with it? Chaeryeong’s wearing the same thing.”
“Son, you know that’s different.” His father interjects.
Heeseung takes a swig of the soda before responding. “Why? Because she’s a girl?”
“It’s not like that, hon. It’s just…we didn’t make a big deal of it when you first started the piercings, and the tattoos, and the hair dye, but this…it’s a little much. Don’t you think?” His mother asks.
You want to step in and tell his parents that Heeseung is old enough to make his own decisions and express himself as he pleases, but it’s not your place. Instead, you cheer silently when Chaeryeong surprisingly interrupts the discussion. “Did you guys seriously force him to come back home just to criticize how he presents himself, or would you rather have a peaceful summer?”
“We aren’t trying to criticize him, Chaeryeong. We’re just looking out for our child.” Mr. Lee responds.
“It’s a special occasion, Dad. Is it bad that I wanted to look nice for—” Heeseung abruptly cuts himself short, quickly glancing in your direction before returning his attention to his parents. “...to go see Twilight with my friends?”
What was that about?
Silence passes, and the three stare at each other until Mrs. Lee sighs defeatedly and says, “No, there’s nothing wrong with that, sweetheart. I hope you guys enjoy the movie.”
“We will,” Heeseung responds, closing the soda bottle lid and placing it back in the fridge. He heads for the front door, beckoning you and Chaeryeong to follow behind. He’s eager to leave the house, quickly swinging the front door open and jogging towards his car.
You and Chaeryeong say goodbye to her parents with a promise to be home by eleven before following in Heeseung’s footsteps, who already has the car running. As you wait for Chaeryeong to finish locking the front door, Heeseung rolls down his window and shouts, “Hurry up! Let’s go!”
“Will you calm down?!” Chaeryeong throws back, rolling her eyes as she finally removes the house key from the lock.
You follow her towards Heeseung’s car, sliding into the backseat as you pretend not to notice Heeseung watching you through the rearview mirror. He wants you to look at him, but you refuse, busying yourself by buckling your seatbelt and convincing Chaeryeong to do the same. Once Heeseung is convinced you’re not going to do so much as glance at him, he puts the car in drive and pulls into the road.
Chaeryeong talks your ear off in the backseat about whatever comes to mind while you keep your eyes on the window. It’s hard to not notice Heeseung glancing back at you through the mirror at every red light or stop sign, but you don’t dare meet his gaze.
The movie theater’s parking lot is crowded when you arrive; it takes Heeseung a few minutes to eventually locate a spot. A smile is plastered on his face as he parks the car, eager to see some of his closest friends after being separated. He informs you and Chaeryeong to disregard anything foolish he friends may say, claiming they arrived early to smoke behind the movie theater, so they’re more than likely too high to function properly.
Heeseung shrugs when Chaeryeong asks why people do that, shoving his hands into his pockets as the three of you make your way towards the theater entrance. “Some people say it makes the movie experience better.”
You want to ask Heeseung if he’s ever been high, but you can barely even bring yourself to look in his direction; let alone ask him a question. So you’re silent as the three of you enter the movie theater, instantly spotting Heeseung’s bandmates in the far corner.
Well…Heeseung’s bandmates and one other guest.
The bubbly redhead greets you guys first, running up to Heeseung with open arms as if they haven’t seen each other in a million years. It makes you want to vomit.
You look away as they hug, directing your attention to the concession stand employee who had apparently already been watching you. His name tag reads ‘Jake’, and he resembles a slightly younger version of Heeseung, with the same dark hair and similar lip piercing. His eyes stay on you until a customer blocks your path, and you’re back to watching Heeseung reunite with his friends.
“Hey, you were the one at that party, right? With Chaeryeong?” The redhead asks, squinting her eyes at you.
“Yeah.” Is all you respond with, because why in God’s name is this girl talking to you right now?
“It’s nice to meet you, I’m Scar,” she introduces herself, extending a hand for you to shake.
Chaeryeong interjects, grabbing ahold of your wrist while glaring at Scar. “Your name is Scarlett.”
She drags you along to the ticketbooth, mumbling about she doesn’t like nor trusts Scar. When you ask for her reasonsings, she responds with, “I don’t need one. I just don’t like her.”
At least you’re on the same page about that.
Still, you can’t help but wonder why Chaeryeong has a distaste for Scar. You have your petty reasoning for disliking her, but Chaeryeong (more than likely) has better knowledge of Scar’s personality, so whatever reasons she has for disliking her could be legitimate.
You’re thinking of this as Heeseung is ordering the tickets for everyone, asking the employee to give him a minute when the friend you recognise as Jay starts tapping his shoulder. “We should go see Saw instead, it just came out.”
Heeseung looks genuinely confused at the suggestion. “What? No, we came here to see Twilight.”
“So?!” Jungwon chimes in, eyes as red as the devil, “Come on, dude, you’ve already seen Twilight, don’t you wanna see something new?”
“Fuck no, we’re literally in the middle of buying the tickets.” Heeseung reminds everyone.
“I kinda wanna see Saw, too.”
“Same.”
“Yeah, me too.”
“I do, too.”
Heeseung whips his head around at his sister, “What? Even you?”
Chaeryeong scoffs, “Well, yeah! Twilight just seems boring in comparison.”
“Come on guys,” the employee interrupts, “you’re holding up the line.”
Heeseungs turns towards you. “Do you still wanna see Twilight?”
Truthfully, you want to go home; but seeing how excited Heeseung was for the movie made you feel something, so you nod. He lets out a relieved sigh.
He moves out of the way to allow his friends to buy their tickets first, slipping his sister cash to pay for hers; to which she initially rejects. “I don’t need your money,” she claims.
“Just take it, Chaeryeong. I brought it for you.”
From what you can make out, it’s enough to cover her ticket and grab something from the concession stand. The pair of siblings may bicker a lot, but it’s nice to know Heeseung still looks out for his younger sister whenever he can.
Chaeryeong reluctantly accepts the money and purchases her ticket, you watch as Heeseung follows suit; ordering two tickets for Twilight and stopping you from opening your purse. “Don’t worry about it.”
“Oh, it’s fine. I have enough.” You reassure him.
Heeseung laughs to himself, “Why are the two of you like this?” He questions, fishing out crumpled dollar bills from his pocket and handing them to the cashier who sighs in annoyance, straightening and inspecting each bill before placing it in his register.
You don’t know why Heeseung insists on being so nice to you despite your persistence on not speaking to him. A part of you wonders if he thinks this is some kind of date now that the two of you will be separated from the group. It doesn’t matter, you don’t know why you’re thinking too much into it.
Once all the tickets have been purchased, the seven of you head towards the concession stand. Chaeryeong debates pushing herself to the front of the long line, claiming that the theater should make accommodations to those who’s movie is starting sooner. Or something like that, you can’t really focus with the way Jake is staring at you. You’re used to guys staring all the time, but they tend to shyly look away upon making eye contact.
Jake is quite the opposite, staring you down every chance he gets. Your skin feels hot, and you’re suddenly growing anxious under his gaze.
When the group ahead of you has finished ordering and is heading off into their theater, you’re sure to stick close to Heeseung as you approach the counter. Jake eyes him over once before returning his gaze to you. “What can I get for you guys?”
Heeseung takes the liberty of ordering a large popcorn for the two of you to share, and doesn’t even get mad when you request a slushie instead of a fountain drink. He doesn’t let you pay of course, swatting your hand away when you absentmindedly reach for your purse. “You seriously have to stop doing that.” He mumbles, handing Jake the cash.
Jake is quick to prepare the popcorn and Heeseung’s drink, but takes his time when making your slushie. He’s sure to fill it to the brim, and you’re worried it may accidentally overflow and leave a sticky mess. “You didn’t want candy or anything?” He questions, handing you your drink.
You shrug, “Maybe Twizzlers, but—”
Before you can finish, Jake is reaching under the counter then sliding you a pack of Twizzlers. “On me.”
“Oh, are you sure?” You ask, hesitant to accept the free candy.
Jake sends Heeseung a cocky smirk before he responds, “Yeah, enjoy the movie.”
You thank Jake and pretend to not notice the death glares the two boys are sending one another before walking with Heeseung to your theater. “That guy was weird.” He comments.
“Yeah.” You agree, but it’s definitely not true. Jake was friendly and clearly interested in you, unlike Heeseung who was sending you nonstop, draining mixed signals. If his definition of weird is someone who is straightforward, then perhaps you should start going after weirdos.
Once you’re settled in your seats in the back of the theater, — per Heeseung’s request — he clears his throat then says, “So, I tried messaging you on Facebook. Didn’t get anything back.”
“Oh, sorry. I haven’t been using Facebook that much.” You reply, hoping your lame excuse is believable enough.
He nods, eyes bouncing between you and the movie trailers playing in the background. “Yeah, I figured.” He says. When you don’t respond, he continues, “I would’ve asked Chaeryeong for your number, but I didn’t want her to get suspicious or anything.”
“That’s smart.” You admit, nodding in agreement.
“Are you okay?” Heeseung asks suddenly, his full attention to you.
You finally make eye contact, and the expression on his face makes your heart sink. He looks genuinely concerned and confused by your sudden coldness. You hate being so mean to him, but you’re too embarrassed to explain the real reason why you’ve been avoiding him. So you nod and say, “Just a little tired.”
It’s clear he doesn’t believe this, the same expression is still on his face as he refocuses on the movie trailers.
You hate how awkward it feels to be around him now, never in a million years would you have guessed the two of you would end up like this. A week ago you would’ve been overjoyed at the idea of being on a movie date with Heeseung; and now you’re considering leaving early and catching a taxi home.
The two of you remain silent as the rest of the trailers play on, and Heeseung immediately sits up in his seat when the lights finally dim and the curtains are being pulled back further. He’s incredibly quiet throughout the movie aside from a muffled chuckle every now and then; he even side-eyes anyone making too much noise.
You enjoy Twilight nonetheless, agreeing with Heeseung that you do in fact dress like Bella Swan from time to time. When he asks if you liked it as you’re exiting the theater, you tell him it was very nice, and that you hope there’ll be another movie.
Heeseung smiles at this, tossing his empty cup in a nearby trash bin. “I’m sure there will be. Maybe they’ll even cast you as Bella’s stunt double since you already have the clothes.”
“Shut up.” You tease, and it feels nice to be able to joke around with him as usual. Maybe you’ll finally have the courage to tell Heeseung why you’ve been so distant these past few days.
Saw doesn’t get out for another few minutes, so you’re stuck waiting in the lobby for Chaeryeong and everyone else. Heeseung gestures towards the nearly empty slushie cup clutched in your hands, “You get free refills on that, I think.”
You take his word, strolling over to the concession stand. Jake spots you immediately and gestures for you to skip around the line. You shake your head, but he still beckons for you to come over. You feel bad, but the line has gotten longer since you were first here, and you really don’t want to wait in a long line just for a refill.
“What flavor?” He asks once you’ve slid him your cup.
You tell him anything is fine and he gets to work, combining the cherry and blue raspberry flavors. “How was the movie?”
“It was good. The vampire stuff was cool.”
“Have you seen Saw yet? It just came out.”
“No, I haven’t.”
“It’s so good; if you wanna give me your number maybe we can see it together some time.”
What is it with guys offering to take you out to a movie they’ve already seen? You’re not complaining, it’s just odd.
Jake is clearly interested in you and has offered to take you out. You'd be silly to pass up on this guy just because your current relationship with your longtime crush is at a standstill. So you accept, scribbling your phone number down on a napkin with your name underneath. He makes a promise to call you once his shift is over, and that he looks forward to seeing you.
When you turn to meet up with Heeseung, he’s gone. You catch him storming out of the theater, hauling ass to his car.
You run to catch up to him, calling out his name and begging him to slow down.
When he finally does stop, there’s a look on his face that you’ve never seen before. He gets angry all the time, but this was something completely different, something unrecognizable.
He was hurt.
“So you were just using me, huh?”
What? What is he talking about?
“Using you for what?”
“To lose your virginity. You just wanted to get it over with, right?” His voice is slightly hushed now, but still loud enough for you to feel embarrassed about anyone passing through the parking lot.
“Heeseung, what are you talking about?”
“You used me to lose your virginity, so when you date other guys you can tell them you’ve had sex before. Is that what this is?”
This accusation hurts, considering that Heeseung was the only guy you’ve ever been interested in romantically and sexually. You don’t know where this theory is coming from, but you don’t like it.
Heeseung continues before you respond, “I tried reaching out and talking to you, and you just blew me off! And yet here you are giving your number to random guys! Am I not good enough for you?!”
“It’s not like that, Heeseung!” You don’t mean to raise your voice at him, but you can’t help it. Both of your emotions were at an all time high.
“Then what is it like?!”
Here goes nothing.
There’s already tears forming as you go to explain yourself. “I didn’t reach out to you because…because I was embarrassed.”
“You were embarrassed to have sex with me?”
This is bad; really, really bad. Much worse than you could have ever imagined.
It’s started raining by now, and if Heeseung noticed it, then he doesn’t seem to care; allowing the raindrops to stain his outfit and ruin his eye makeup.
It feels like a scene from a movie, him standing there in the pouring rain waiting for a response while you stumble over your words to formulate one.
“No!” You yell in reassurance, “No, no, no. Of course not. I was embarrassed because I know you didn’t finish. I just thought maybe I did something wrong or maybe I didn’t do enough.”
Heeseung quirks a brow at you, “What makes you think I didn’t finish?”
You really hate that he’s making you explain this. “I saw the condom afterwards; it was empty.”
“You went digging in my trash can to find the condom?” Now he looks more disgusted than confused; this is going so horribly.
“No! I saw it when I went to get my phone off the charger.”
Heeseung takes a minute to process everything, scratching his chin in deep thought. You can’t tell what he’s feeling, but he does look hurt. It makes you regret avoiding him in the first place.
“So, you were prepared to never talk to me again over an empty condom?” Despite his tough demeanor, he’s clearly shaking as he questions you.
You want to say no, that it wasn’t a case, but you can’t bring yourself to lie to him again. So you say nothing. Heeseung nods at your lack of response before turning around and walking towards his car. You remain still, frozen in place, watching as he sits on the hood of his car and smokes a cigarette.
If it weren’t for Chaeryeong finishing her movie within the next few minutes, you would’ve walked the entire way home.
———
This bitch is driving you crazy.
Your older sister, Imogen, is home for a few days to start her wedding preparations. The fake bridezilla persona she's putting on bothers you the most, bursting out in tears at the most inconvenient times or having a breakdown about selecting a theme. Deep down, she doesn't care about any of this bullshit; she's like you about parties or big events.
"This is literally the biggest day of my life, and you're being so fucking difficult." Imogen snarls at you, pouring herself a cup of coffee. You're sitting a few feet away on the kitchen counter, staring out the kitchen window. Despite Imogen's occasional yelling and snarky comments, all you can think of is Heeseung.
It's been an entire week since the movie theater incident. You haven't stopped by the Lee household not once, telling Chaeryeong you fell ill and don't want to get her sick. It's another lame excuse, but she buys it, opting to talk to you on the phone daily until you recover.
You have yet to speak to Heeseung; but it's not like you've tried. The idea of messaging him on Facebook and not receiving a response makes you anxious, and it's hard to believe you subjected him to the same torture not long ago. It doesn't help that Scarlett is suddenly all over his page, commenting on nearly every one of his posts, writing on his wall, or tagging him in pictures. Your recurring dream of curb-stomping her is back in full force.
You sigh at your sister, "Whatever you say, Imogen."
She waves dismissively at you, "Please, don't even talk to me right now."
You hop off the counter in annoyance and stomp off towards the staircase, mumbling, "Fucking drama queen."
"Language." Your mom warns you, flipping through one of the several bridal magazines your sister has stacked on the coffee table.
Imogen scoffs, setting her mug on the counter. "I'm the drama queen? Whenever I talk about my wedding, you throw a fit."
"Why are you pretending to care about this stupid wedding and that stupid boy you barely even know?!" You shout back from the staircase.
"If my wedding is so stupid, then don't come!"
"I don't even want to go to your stupid wedding with your stupid fiancé and your stupid red velvet cake that no one's going to fucking eat!"
This is probably the dumbest fight you've ever had.
Imogen doesn’t respond to this, advised by your mother no to and to just let you stomp up the stairs in a furious rage. You make a beeline straight to your desktop, waking up the computer with a shake of the mouse and entering your password.
Facebook is already open once you’ve signed in, Heeseung’s page staring right back at you. You’re ashamed to admit you’d been cyber stalking him, but you really didn’t have any other choice. Seeing him in person would’ve been too much, but you still want to make sure he’s doing okay.
There’s a new post up when you refresh the page, you chew on your bottom lip as you anxiously wait for it to finish loading.
It’s a picture of his dirty Chuck Taylor’s perched upon a wooden stool. You recognize the background immediately, he’s in the treehouse in his backyard. You and Chaeryeong would spend hours up there as kids, giving each other manicures and exchanging secrets; now you can barely look her in the eye without bursting out in tears. You hate how complicated things have become.
There’s a light tap against your door that has you swiveling around in your chair. It’s Imogen, leaning against your doorframe with her arms crossed. “Who’s that?”
“Chaeryeong’s brother.” You respond, scrolling to a photo that actually shows his face.
Imogen steps further into your bedroom, squinting her eyes at the computer screen. “Oh, yeah. Hasn’t changed much, has he?” When you remain silent, she asks, “Would it be wrong of me to assume he’s the real reason why you’re so upset?”
You sigh, letting your shoulders drop. “You’d be very correct, actually.”
She nods in understanding, taking a seat on the edge of your bed. “So, what’s going on? You like him?”
“We kind of like each other, I guess.” You mumble. To be honest, you’re not quite sure how Heeseung feels about you right now.
“And Chaeryeong doesn’t approve of it?”
You snort, “Chaeryeong doesn’t know. There was nothing to tell her at first, but things have changed.”
“Are you guys dating?”
“No. We actually haven’t talked in a week. I may have hurt his feelings.”
Imogen nods towards your desktop, “Where is he now?”
You shrug, “Home, I guess.”
She stands, stretching out her limbs. She glances around your room, locates a jacket dangling lifelessly from your doorknob, and tosses it to you. “Let’s go.”
Taking an impromptu trip to the Lee household had you sweating. What if Heeseung doesn’t even want to see you? What if Chaeryeong catches you talking and asks what’s going on?
Each concern you raise is instantly shot down by Imogen, claiming you’re creating excuses to avoid seeing him, how you’re only imagining the worst possible scenarios. You appreciate her overwhelming support but can’t help the nervousness creeping through your body as her car approaches the Lee household.
“Remember, be apologetic but not desperate,” Imogen informs you, putting her car in park in front of the house.
“I am desperate.” You remind her.
“Well, don’t let him see it. You got this.”
You thank your sister one last time for the advice before stepping out of her car. You’re careful to avoid being seen from windows as you make your way into the backyard; not entirely sure what you’d say if Chaeryeong were to catch you.
You scale the tree quickly, silently praying the old wooden steps are stable enough to hold your weight.
You sigh in relief once you’ve reached the top, only to groan at the sight of Scarlett sitting across from you. She looks up from her iPod with a bright smile, quickly pulling out her earbuds as you enter the treehouse. “Hey, stranger! Watcha doing here?”
Her enthusiasm really makes you sick. “Came to see Heeseung,” you pause to glance around the tiny, wooden deathtrap, “but he’s nowhere to be found.”
“He’ll be back soon; went to use the bathroom,” Scarlett informs you, running her hands through her hair. “So, you guys really like each other, huh?”
What? She knows about that?
“Heeseung told you?” You question, trying your best to appear unbothered. You’re unsure where she’s going with this, but you have no reason to trust her.
Scarlett nods, “We tell each other everything. So when he told me you guys weren’t talking, I may have devised a plan to help you come around. You do use Facebook, right?” She smirks
Holy shit, all the posts of them together were to make you feel jealous enough to have a conversation with him; and your sworn enemy was the mastermind behind it. It was all a ploy to get under your skin, and you fell right into the trap.
“You’re a stubborn little thing, though. Didn’t think it’d take you so long.” She comments, slipping her jacket on.
You shrug, “I didn’t think he’d want to talk to me.”
“Heeseung always wants to talk to you. I don’t mind it, though. You seem good for him.”
Aside from Chaeryeong, Scarlett is probably the last person you would’ve expected to be supportive of your relationship with Heeseung. So, to hear she’d been secretly rooting for you behind the scenes nearly gives you whiplash. You almost feel wrong about your dreams of shoving her face into the pavement.
You tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, “So, nothing is going on between you guys?”
Scarlett grimaces as if you deeply offended her, “Of course not! Don’t get me wrong, he’s cute, but not my type. His sister is cute, though.”
Woah.
“Chaeryeong? Lee Chaeryeong? You’re into her?” You ask, completely stunned.
“Hell yes. Hey, do you think you could set us up? Heeseung would never.”
“You do know that Chaeryeong can’t stand you, right?”
Scarlett excitedly nods, “I know, it’s kind of a turn-on.”
You hold your hands out to stop her from elaborating any further. Scarlett has surprised you in more ways than one in less than five minutes. You’re sure any new information would’ve made your head explode.
“I’ll…try my best.” You promise; not quite sure how Chaeryeong would feel about the idea of Scarlett liking her.
“For what?” A voice interrupts, causing you and Scarlett to direct your attention to the treehouse’s entrance. And there he is, in all his gothic glory.
“Girl talk, none of your business,” Scarlett responds, making room for Heeseung to crawl in.
“Fine. You keep your secrets; I’ll keep mine.” Heeseung groans, sitting between the two of you.
“Will do. I’m outta here. Got a hot date with a box of hair dye. See you suckers later.” Scarlett waves goodbye as she exits the treehouse, reminding you of your promise before disappearing down the steps.
Heeseung clears his throat, sweeping his hair away from his eyes. "So—"
"I'm sorry," you cut him off, "I should've reached out and talked to you, but I was just too embarrassed and didn't know how to approach you about it. I really like you, and I wasn't using you to lose my virginity. I mean, you're the only person I've ever been interested in. So, again, I'm sorry."
He sighs, "I understand why you were embarrassed, but I promise it had nothing to do with you."
"Then what was it?"
Heeseung anxiously scratches the back of his head before he responds. "It's just that…sometimes…it takes me a little bit longer to, uh…to finish."
Oh.
"Is it because of your…size?" You can't help but wonder.
Heeseung snorts, "What, you think I'm big?"
"I'm out of here." You joke, faking as if you're about to leave.
"Wait, wait, wait." He stops you, "I was only kidding. I never really thought size played a factor in it, but every guy is different. But, still, that doesn't mean I didn't enjoy us having sex. I mean, you had already finished, and I didn't want to tire you out just for my sake."
Knowing he had a perfectly reasonable explanation makes you feel even worse about spending all that time avoiding him. You want to tell him you wouldn't mind him tiring you out, that the idea excites you, but you refrain.
A beat of silence passes, and you ask, "But, I'm sure if there's something that you're really into, then it wouldn't take as long for you to finish. Right?"
Heeseung nods, "I guess."
"Then, what is it? What are you into?"
He coughs, tips of his ears turning a light shade of pink. "Um…I guess I'm into…roughness?"
Ah.
"That's not a big deal. A lot of people are probably into that."
"I mean, it's fine either way, but I mostly prefer when girls are kinda rough with me. Fuck, this is embarrassing."
"It's not!" You reassure him, placing a gentle hand on his knee, "It's nothing to be embarrassed about. I appreciate you trusting me enough to tell me."
Heeseung stares at your hand on his knee before placing his own on top. You twist yours upwards and interlock your fingers, not missing the smile that forms on his face. His bangs have swept into his eyes again, and you use your free hand to move them out of the way. "It was my first time, too, by the way."
You snort, "You don't need to say that just to make me feel better."
"I'm serious," he continues, "I mean, I've gotten pretty handsy in the past, but nothing like what we did."
You shake your head, "I don't buy it. You seemed so experienced like you knew what you were doing."
Heeseung shrugs, "I mean, I'm not completely innocent. I may occasionally watch certain videos and read certain stories from time to time."
Porn and smut. Beautiful combination.
He shakes his head, "You still don't believe me; how come?"
You sigh, memories of the night before he left for college flashing in your mind. How you ran home in tears, how he only responded to Scar's comment on Chaeryeong's Facebook post. It almost hurts to think about. "The night before you left for school, there was an opened condom wrapper on your floor. I just figured…you know."
Heeseung nods at the memory. "I wasn't gonna go to the dorms the next day. I was planning on running away, that's why I gave you that bandana. After my parents helped bring my stuff to the dorms, I was gonna put everything in my car then take off."
You're having a hard time processing this information. Why would Heeseung plan on running away? What does this story have to do with the empty condom?
He continues, clutching your hand even tighter. "I only told a few people I was leaving, and there was this one girl who came over to say goodbye. She'd been really into me for a while and was heartbroken that I was leaving. We were about to hook up, hence the condom wrapper, but I couldn't do it."
"Why?" You question.
"Didn't feel right. I wasn't into her the same way she was into me. Just couldn't do it." He explains, eyes staring deep into yours. You believe him; you know he's being truthful.
"What made you decide to stay?" You ask.
"For Chaeryeong," he answers, "I couldn't just leave her like that. And for you, too."
Though you've felt it for many years, telling Heeseung you love him is too soon. But you want to, so very badly.
"I'm glad you decided to stay." Your voice is barely a whisper now as you try to stop yourself from tearing up.
He nods, "Me too."
You sit in comfortable silence for a minute, clutching each other's hands. You wish you could stay like this forever.
"I just realized you never told me if there's anything you're into." He points out.
You shrug, "Just you." And it's true: Heeseung is the only person you've ever been interested in. Everything he says and does is genuinely attractive to you.
He drops your hand gently, using it to tilt your head towards him, and he kisses you.
You're quick to cradle the back of his head as his hands snake around your waist, deepening the kiss. You move to straddle his lap, slowly pushing him onto his back. He grunts in surprise, breaking away from the kiss. "You—"
"Stop talking." You demand before your lips intertwine with his once again. With one hand on his chest, you reach to grab a fistful of his hair and tug lightly, earning a satisfied moan from him. You're not used to being rough with guys, but you're sure Heeseung enjoys it with the way his erection is pressing up against your thigh.
Reluctantly, you pull away from him and sit up, staring at him sprawled underneath you in complete awe. "Alright, I'll message you my number so we can text. See you later."
"No! No, no, no. Please don't go." He pleads, holding you in place when you go to stand, "Just stay a little longer, please."
You smile down at him, fighting the urge to stay in the treehouse. "I can't. Imogen is waiting out front. We'll see each other soon, okay?" You promise, planting a kiss on his forehead.
Heeseung nods, drumming against the floor as he watches you crawl out of the treehouse. "Don't be too surprised if I seem extra excited to see you next time." He calls after you.
"Trust me, I won't."
———
Heeseung is the first boy to ever sneak in through your bedroom window.
He carelessly tosses his backpack in first, cringing when it lands on your carpeted floor with a loud thud. Though you’ve assured him your parents are heavy sleepers, he’s still worried you’ll get in trouble if he makes too much noise and accidentally reveals himself. “Sorry,” he apologizes, hand gripping your forearm as you help pull him in.
“It’s fine,” you whisper back, “they’re not gonna wake up.”
“Still,” he grunts, using his upper body strength to pull him further into your room. “Don’t want you getting in trouble.”
It’s a day after the treehouse incident; as promised, you sent Heeseung your number and spent all day texting back and forth. Despite not being big on texting, you admire how Heeseung likes to keep you updated on what he’s doing and how he checks up on you to ensure you’re okay.
“We’ll be fine, but just in case, I did make room for you in my closet in case you have to hide.” You inform him.
Heeseung stifles a laugh, “Good to know.” He settles himself on the edge of your bed, moving over once he realizes he’d sat on a pile of clothing. “Oh, were you about to shower?”
“I was,” you answer, moving the clothing over to your nightstand, “but I’ll wait until after you leave.”
He has to stop himself from making a joke about joining you in the shower. He nods, leaning down to drag his backpack towards him, “Guess what I got today.”
“What?” You question, legs folded underneath your body as you sit beside him.
Heeseung slowly unzips his backpack, careful not to make too much noise before rummaging through it and clutching something in his hand. He momentarily turns his back towards you, clips something to his shirt, then turns back around.
There’s a name tag on his chest now with his name scribbled in black ink and a little star next to it. “A job?”
He nods, “At that music store, Spin City. Need to start saving up before classes start. Plus, I wanna take you out somewhere nice before summer’s over.”
You gulp, “Like, a date?”
“Yeah. I mean, unless… I don’t know. I just kinda figured…” He trails off, suddenly worried he may be scaring you off.
You grab ahold of his hand, “I know, and trust me, you’re perfect, and I want us to be together. But, the night we saw you at that party, I did ask Chaeryeong if she would be upset if I was into you. Surprisingly, she said she wouldn’t mind as long as I talked to her before making a move on you. And, well…”
“We made a move on each other without telling her,” Heeseung finishes for you.
You nod, “Exactly.”
He sighs, “So, I’m guessing that means you wanna wait before we make things official.”
“Yeah. No matter what, I still want to be with you. But it’d be best for all of us to get her on board with this first. Show her how much we truly care for each other, and make sure she’s okay with it. So she knows my relationship with you won’t affect our friendship, and vice versa.” You explain. Heeseung’s eyes never stray from yours, listening intently and nodding at everything you say.
“That’s fair,” he agrees, “It’s a good idea. Do you want me to talk to her? Or for us to talk to her together?”
You shake your head, “She’ll definitely freak out on you; it’s best if I do it alone first, then you talk to her afterward.”
Heeseung leans back against your bed, resting his head on your pillow. It’s funny how different your aesthetics are; he looks perfectly out of place, sprawled on your baby pink pillow surrounded by teddy bears. “When?”
“I dunno,” you respond, lowering yourself until your head rests comfortably on his bicep. “Doesn’t have to be right away. As long as it’s before we move into the dorms.”
“We shouldn’t wait too long, though. It’ll only make things worse.” Heeseung mumbles, pulling you closer to him.
“I know. I’ll have a talk with her soon, I promise.”
You interlock pinkies to solidify your promise and ease his nerves. You hadn’t realized how anxiety-inducing this was for Heeseung as well. The idea of Chaeryeong not approving of your relationship had him genuinely worried.
“But, you should know that no matter what—” he starts.
You cut him off, “I know.”
———
The hands that once purposely dumped slime in your hair are now tugging your panties down your legs.
“Can we try something?” Heeseung asks with a mumble against your lips, your soft blue underwear now clutched in the palm of his hand.
“Like what? I actually make you come for once?” You joke, earning a laugh from Heeseung.
“Don’t worry about me.” He presses another kiss against your lips, “You trust me?”
“Of course.” You respond, sitting up in Heeseung’s bed as he moves backward, never breaking eye contact with you. He pushes your skirt up slightly but pats your hand away when you go to remove it altogether.
“Leave it on.” He commands, bringing himself at face level with your cunt.
You’ve never felt this shy in your life, grateful your bunched-up skirt created the tiniest barrier between having Heeseung see you all flustered. Never had you been this intimate with a guy, especially not a guy you technically weren’t even dating.
His thumb is circling your clit before you have the time to protest, to tell him he doesn’t have to do this just for your sake, but the feeling of his fingers pressed against you has you at a loss for words.
“This okay?” He asks.
“Yeah.” You respond, tilting your head upwards to stare at the ceiling.
Before you know it, his middle and index fingers are pressed against your opening, eliciting a gasp from your lips. At your reaction, Heeseung slips his finger into your entrance, thumb still playing with your clit. He insists on being teasingly slow today, wanting to draw out every moment and observe your reaction.
He pumps his fingers in and out of you in a slow, consistent motion, an amused smirk on his lips when he hears your breathing become ragged. Abruptly, he slips his fingers out of you, moving your thighs to rest them atop his shoulders.
“Wait, you don’t have to—oh fuck.” You’re cut off by Heeseung pushing himself forward, placing a sudden kiss on your clit that has your hips jolting in the air. His hand grabs your waist and licks at your slit, keeping you in place as he gently returns your body to his mattress.
His growing erection is the last of his worries, all too focused on dragging his tongue across your cunt. He flattens his tongue, pulling the wetness upward until he’s circling your clit again. In search of something to grab onto, your hands grip the bed sheets until Heeseung reaches forward, moving your hand over to grip his hair.
His eyes are closed when you look down at him, and you swear you can hear him moan as he eats you out. You try your best to keep the noise down out of fear someone will hear, but you can’t help but yell out when he’s back to fingering you, all while circling your clit with his tongue.
Your grip on his hair tightens, pushing his face further into your pussy, and he lets out a satisfied groan. It’s embarrassing how quickly your orgasm approaches; everything with Heeseung is so intense. He knows this, eyes fluttering open to watch your expressions. Black eyeshadow is smeared across his eyelids as his eyes focus on your own, hands gripping your thighs as he tongue circles your clit.
His fingers are relentlessly pumping into your cunt now, contrasting against how teasingly slow his tongue is moving. He pulls his mouth away, lips glistening with your arousal, and asks, “You close?”
You don’t respond directly, but the grip you have on his hair gives him all the answers he needs before he’s diving back in. It doesn’t take much for you to come after that, a final kiss pressed on your clit, sending you over the edge and coating Heeseung’s fingers.
Heeseung doesn’t stop there, still continuing to lick and suck your clit until you’re begging him to stop from the overstimulation.
“Sorry.” He apologizes, planting a kiss on your inner thigh, “Was that good?”
“That was literally the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” You respond. Heeseung lets out a laugh as he crawls up next to you. “I should be upset with you, though.”
“What?” He questions, peppering your face with kisses, “Why’s that?”
“I came over to talk to your sister about us, and you distracted me.”
“How’d I do that?”
“Because! You came downstairs in your eyeshadow. Then you were all like, ‘Oh, hey. I cleaned my room; wanna check it out?’” You mimic a deep voice that sounds nothing like his.
“I apologize for putting on eyeshadow, bringing you to my room, and eating you out. Can you find it in your heart to forgive me?”
“I guess.”
You both laugh at this as you move to pull your skirt down. “Hey, how’d you realize you like it when girls are rough with you?”
Heeseung shakes his head as the memory returns to him, a shy smile on his face as he glances over at you. “A little while ago, I was picking on Chaeryeong for something. I don’t even remember why, but it got to the point where my parents were telling me to stop, and I wouldn’t. Then, you just started yelling at me out of nowhere, and I don’t know why, but it was the hottest thing ever. I was in awe. I really thought you were gonna slap me. Since then, it’s just been a turn-on of mine.”
“Wow. That’s actually kind of pathetic.” You tease.
He groans, “Please don’t say that. You’re gonna make me hard again.”
Laughter is shared between you once again before you lean your head down to rest on his chest, the sound of his steady heartbeat making you feel calm. A comfortable minute of silence passes before you have to address the unfortunate inevitable, “Chaeryeong should be here soon, right?”
“Yeah,” Heeseung mumbles, “within the next ten minutes.”
You sigh, “Next time I come over, I’ll have to tell her about us.”
———
The next time you stop by the Lee household, Heeseung has you bent over in the backseat of his car.
His finger digs into your waist as his cock is plunging into you at full force, emptying all the thoughts from your brain. You still haven’t fully adjusted to his size, but you don’t care; the pain of being split open makes you come faster. It feels better.
Heeseung insisted on taking things slow, telling you that you’d need to adjust to his size, but the moment you sunk your dripping cunt onto him, he was under your spell.
Your body lunges forward with every rough stroke Heeseung gives you, hands buried in your hair as he pulls you up against his chest. His hand moves from your hair down to your neck, tilting your head back while applying the slightest bit of pressure against your throat. Your eyes close out of instinct as tears form in the corner of your eyes before trickling down your cheeks. He kisses them away one by one before settling his lips on your neck. You make a mental note to check yourself for hickeys afterward.
You’re coming around him before you realize it, body spasming as you grip the driver’s seat headrest. Heeseung shows no signs of stopping or slowing down; in fact, he’s sped up even faster since fucking you through your orgasm. He lets go of your neck to push down on your back, left hand gripping your waist while the right intertwines your fingers with his.
A few strokes later, he’s finally coming and jokes about showing you the used condom as confirmation.
You shake your head, gesturing for him to pass you the shorts he’d tossed in the front seat. “I can’t believe I let you trick me again.”
“What?!” He exclaims in utter shock, reaching in the front seat to grab your discarded clothing, “How exactly did I trick you?”
“I came over to talk to Chaeryeong, but then you were all like, ‘Hey, come look at my car; I just got it washed.’” You playfully roll your eyes, searching around the backseat for your underwear.
“Can I keep these?” He asks suddenly, the most nonchalant expression on his face as your panties dangle from his middle finger.
You scoff, reaching to snatch them from him, confused when he retracts his hand. “I think I will keep them until you talk to Chaeryeong. Since it was you who wanted to talk to her first.”
“Then, I guess I’ll get them back tomorrow because I’m definitely talking to her today.”
Except you don’t.
You spent the entire summer sneaking around with Heeseung and procrastinating about having that talk with Chaeryeong. It was anxiety-inducing, to say the least, and you had no idea how she’d react. You tell yourself she won’t be upset as long as you assure her your friendship won’t be affected by you dating her brother.
You’re scheduled to move into the dorms within a few weeks, so it’s best to sort things out now before you all live under the same roof, unable to avoid one another. Heeseung doesn’t seem nervous at all. In fact, he’d given you a pep-talk the day before you showed up at their home.
“She can’t stay mad forever.” He pointed out, eyes sealed shut as you do his eyeliner.
“I know,” you mumbled, adjusting yourself on his lap, “but that girl can hold a grudge.”
“Right, but this is you we’re talking about. You mean a lot to her, to both of us, actually.”
His words play in your mind as you enter the Lee household, following Chaeryeong into the kitchen. “Baking something?” You ask, a sweet, decadent scent hitting your nose.
“Brownies for some stupid bake sale my parents are having. Help me clean up?” She asks, pouting her lips at you.
“Sure.” You agree, under the assumption that there wouldn’t be much to even clean up.
Boy, you were wrong. It’s like Chaeryeong used every dish in the house to make one sheet of brownies. There’s no backing out now; you already agreed to help, and it’d be best to stay on her good side for now.
She gets to work rinsing each dish before handing them to you to load the dishwasher, moving quickly to get everything done faster.
“What a beautiful friendship.” A familiar voice comments; you fight back a smile as Chaeryeong groans at her brother.
“You wouldn’t know; you don’t have any friends,” Chaeryeong responds, laughing at her words.
“Neither will you, soon,” Heeseung whispers back, groaning when you swat him in the chest. “Any brownie batter left?”
“None for you. Shouldn’t you be at work?” Chaeryeong asks, handing you another dish.
Chaeryeong takes a break from rinsing off the dishes to bicker with Heeseung for a minute. You tune out from the conversation, dipping your fingers into the leftover batter bowl and gathering the chocolate on your fingers.
“I’m leaving, I’m leaving,” Heeseung says. When Chaeryeong finally directs her attention elsewhere, Heeseung takes the opportunity to grab your wrist, bringing your fingers up to his lips before sucking the chocolate off them.
Your eyes practically bulge out of your head, nervously glancing behind you to ensure Chaeryeong hadn’t seen anything. You swat at Heeseung’s chest for the second time, and he laughs as if you’re being overly dramatic. It’s odd how surprisingly calm he is about everything. His demeanor would have worried you if you didn’t trust him so much.
Heeseung wipes the renaming bit of chocolate around his lips before mouthing ‘Good luck.’ You give him a nervous smile, watching as he slips past Chaeryeong and leaves out the front door. You get back to work, making small talk with Chaeryeong as you help her load the dishwasher.
It’s now or never.
“So,” you start, “we’re gonna be living together soon.”
Chaeryeong smiles, “Finally! God, I can’t wait to have some freedom. My stupid curfew is a major cock-block. Right when things are finally getting good on a date, I have to go back home. So fucking frustrating. There’s literally cobwebs in my vagina.”
You snort, loading the final dish into the washer. “Well, you won’t have that problem anymore.”
“I know. And maybe you’ll even find someone worthy even to date you.” Chaeryeong jokes, hopping on the kitchen counter.
“Uh, what if I already have found someone…worthy enough?” You question, pressing a few buttons to get the dishwasher going.
“As if.”
“Chaeryeong, I’m serious.”
She sighs, still not buying your confession. “Alright then, who is it?”
“...Your brother.”
A beat of silence passes, and then Chaeryeong doubles over in laughter, nearly slipping off the counter several times in a matter of seconds. It takes her a minute to catch her breath, clutching her collar for support as she regulates her breathing; even tears are forming in her eyes. “Holy fuck, can you imagine? You and my brother? Jesus Christ.”
“Look, there isn’t an easy way to say this, but we really do like each other. We’ve been…together this whole summer. Well, not officially; I didn’t want to put a label on anything without talking to you about it first.” You finally confess. The weight on your shoulders doesn’t immediately drop as you expected; it’s like the load has gotten heavier.
Chaeryeong has a blank expression as she stares at you, eyes darting around the kitchen as she processes the information. “You’re serious?”
You nod.
She shakes her head, eyes closed as she asks,“What kind of friend are you? You’re that desperate for a boyfriend you go after the only boy you know? My brother?”
Fuck.
“Chaeryeong, please, let me—”
She cuts you off, hopping off the counter and inching towards you. “So, what? All this time, you were using me to get close to Heeseung? Out of every fucking guy on the planet? Ones that have spent years throwing themself at you?”
“No! Of course not! Chaeryeong, I never even imagined myself in a relationship with him until this summer, I swear!” Your voice trembles as Chaeryeong approaches you.
“Oh, really? You expect me to believe that, huh? So it’s just a coincidence that you guys suddenly got together right before we’re all gonna be living in the same building?”
“I know it doesn’t sound great, but—”
“I think you should go.” Chaeryeong cuts you off calmly, her sudden change in demeanor shocking you. A moment ago, she looked angry enough to hit you, but now, she seems a few seconds away from breaking down in tears.
You nod understandably, telling Chaeryeong to take all the time she needs and to call you when she’s ready to talk.
She doesn’t say a word as you exit her house, and you wonder if you’ve just lost the best friend you’ve ever had.
———
“I’ve never seen her this angry, Heeseung. I thought she was gonna hit me or something.” You groan, ear pressed up against your phone as you rant to Heeseung.
It's been a few hours since you left Chaeryeong’s house; Heeseung had promised to call you during his break to hear how the conversation went. You’re still shaking as the memories flood back to you, how your best friend in the world accused you of using her. What a fucking joke.
“She’ll get over it, trust me. Y’know, before I called you, she spent five minutes yelling at me over the phone. Five fucking minutes, and I just took it. She’ll be fine.” He says, following up with a loud slurping noise that suggests Heeseung has chosen to have ramen for lunch.
It’s astonishing how calm he’s managed to stay this entire time.
You flip over on the couch, head resting on the armrest as you stare at the ceiling. “I just don’t wanna lose her. She’s a fireball, for sure, but she’s my fireball. I don’t know what I’d do without her.”
“I just told you you’re not gonna be without her, okay?”
“...Okay.”
There’s a knock at your front door, most likely from the pizza delivery Heeseung had sent to your house.
“I gotta go. The food is here. Are you still stopping by after your shift?”
“Of course. You gonna be alright?”
“Yeah,” you stand, making your way to the front door. “I’ll save you some pizza.”
He chuckles at that, “You better. I’ll see you later, okay? I love you.”
He what?
“You what?” You pause, hand on the doorknob.
“I love you, and I’ll see you later.” He hangs up.
You don’t have time to process his words; the knocking at your front door happens again.
Twisting the knob, you’re met with Chaeryeong staring back at you. “Chaeryeong? What’re you—”
“I don’t care if you date Heeseung.” She claims, storming through your front door, “If you guys want to be together, then I’m not standing in the way. But I will not be your friend if you date him, so it’s either him or me.”
You follow Chaeryeong into your living room, your pulse quickening upon hearing her ultimatum. “Chaeryeong, that’s not—”
“Before you choose…as a girl, and as your friend, I have to be completely honest with you.” She sighs, fingers nervously raking through her hair as she sits on your couch. “I called Heeseung after you left, and he talked to me about you guys.”
You nod, taking a seat next to her. “Okay, and…?”
She sighs again, taking your hand in her own. “Everything he’s ever told you was a lie.”
#enhypen#enhypen imagine#enhypen smut#enhypen scenario#lee heeseung#lee heeseung imagine#heeseung smut#lee heeseung smut#kpop#kpop imagine#kpop smut#kpop scencario#jake sim#jake sim imagine
836 notes
·
View notes
Text
so, i've fallen down the "humans are weird" rabbit hole, and i couldn't help but notice most of it is about how humans are just really durable, adorable, friendly, how we'd pack bond with anything, about how we have such a hive-mind and empathy and determination to survive when things get rough, how we could survive things most other aliens would die from, how we could eat stuff that would poison other aliens, how we inject ink into our skin and pierce it with pieces of metal and drink toxic substances for the sake of entertainment..
it's always human defences and endurance
but i never see people talking about human **aggression**
like, imagine a spaceship happens to have several humans on it even if most residents are alien species, and two of the humans get in a fight.
and i'm not just talking physical, i'm sayin' all kinds of fights.
imagine if two humans got in a serious screaming match and genuinely hurt a few of the alien species sensitive to loud sounds as they watch, flabbergasted at how the two are literally yelling in each-other's faces without breaking a sweat or getting tired from it, while one of the sound-sensitive aliens literally passed out because it was SO loud
or imagine them simply being in shock after interacting with humans for a long time and having this image in their head of humans being so friendly and able to get along with anything and anyone, including stabby, or any predatory, aggressive species we just so happen to find cute. that image getting completely shattered seeing two of the humans they're friends with showing clear anger and aggression in a display they could only describe as "terrifying" in the most visceral sense of the word
or two humans getting in an actual physical fight, and here's where the *several* humans on ship part comes into play,
so the two are duking it out in a violent display of pure hatred while other humans, amused and thoroughly entertained by the violence that would already have put any of the less durable aliens out of commission gather around the fighting pair and start ominously chanting "FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT"
prior, the aliens hadn't dared intervene or get any closer because either way they recognized it as a danger
meanwhile some humans JOIN IN for absolutely no reason and it becomes a full on riot
and the aliens just stare like ?????
confused at why they'd find it so endearing, at why they'd literally join for no reason at all, horrified by even just a punch to the gut because to some of the more vulnerable aliens that's their equivalent of literally getting an organ ripped out of them and somehow STILL fighting and then ripping out an organ out of the opponent themselves
and most of all, if humans are capable of befriending aggressive, large predatory beings and getting along with practically everything,
what from the fresh pits of hell triggered two *humans* to fight *each other* of all creatures?
(that is, assuming aliens don't have much knowledge of our history, wars, politics, etc of course.)
#humans#humans are space orcs#humans are space australians#humans are strange#humans are weird#humans are space badgers#humans are eldritch horrors
9K notes
·
View notes
Text
under his eye (lnds; sylus)
summary: sylus puts you under his thrall and takes exactly what he wants from you and your body.
note: this is my first love and deepspace fic, and definitely one of my more intense fics thematically for my regular readers who may dip into this one too. i have a few lnds ideas knocking around, so i may post more at some point. ♡
warnings: actual vampire!sylus, fem!reader, mc!reader, this is entirely smut but please mind the warnings here: heavy dubcon (there is enthusiastic consent explicit in the fic just not at first), cnc, use of thrall/mind-control, dollification, fingering, oral (f receiving), actual somno, rough sex, allusions to primal play, blood play, actual vampire behavior, orgasm denial/orgasm control, overstimulation, unprotected sex (he's a vampire tho get real), creampie, praise and shame in equal measure, a LOT of dirty talk from sylus, heavy use of pet names like good girl, sweet girl, kitten, sweetheart, darling, etc., some implied size kink with the use of 'little' but it's meant more mean teasing from him than anything, tenderness, consent talks, check-ins, aftercare, sylus literally loves her in this dw
pairings: vampire!sylus x hunter!reader
genre: smut, porn with very little plot
word count: 5.6k
for my fellow sylus fans, you can probably tell this was fully inspired by his secret times audio 'midnight warmth' - i basically hit level 35 and then went fully insane when i first heard it..... so a few lines of dialogue are borrowed from that.
It’s hard to imagine what it feels like to be in a vampire’s thrall unless you’ve experienced it before. You don’t think you’d ever be able to find the words, not properly. You’ve heard it described, in training, in books, in your own personal research, but it all pales in comparison to what it’s actually like. The slow, hypnotic build up into the haze and the sudden descent into a deeper, darker place where your mind resonates at a lower frequency, fixed on one singular sound. One voice.
Sylus.
His rich, honeyed tone had pushed you under before you could even process it.
You try to remember where you were before this moment, who you were, but there are only flickers. The hotel room around you is large and unfamiliar, outfitted decadently in the dark jewel tones he favors so much. The black silk sheets under your back is the only sensation you have other than the slow pulse of your own heartbeat in your ears. If you focus hard enough, you think you can remember a joke, something you quipped over your shoulder about how there must be laws in place in the N109 zone, how ‘vampire’s lair’ must be the only legal style of decor in this sector of space.
He had laughed, a real, genuine laugh from deep in his chest before he wrapped his arms around you from behind and nuzzled into your hair.
You don’t like being in a vampire’s lair, kitten?
You can still hear his words, swimming around your foggy brain, his voice so low and warm in his chest.
I thought you liked being my pretty paramour.
Sylus’s hands had wandered, playing with the buckles of your hunter’s leathers and letting his fingertips ghost over your collarbones, up your throat, and pass gently over your lips before stepping back and away from you entirely. You felt strange from that moment on, disquieted.
You made excuses in your own mind for how you were feeling, weeks of investigations and sleepless nights, that’s why your body felt like it was dragging itself through butter just trying to eat dinner.
You apologized, you wouldn’t have called him if you had realized just how tired you were.
But he just smiled at you, appraising you with his sharp red eyes in that way he often does, nodding along to your staggered attempts at conversation.
You realized what he was doing in the last split second before your mind became his.
His gaze turned darker, searing into you, and with one word you felt the world drop out from underneath you.
Sleep.
You don’t remember how you ended up on the bed.
Now your head is swimming as you try harder and harder to focus your mind and recall the little details.
“Stop resisting, darling,” Sylus murmurs, and you feel the mattress dip.
You can’t respond, you can’t even really move, and a nervous panic starts to work its way up your spine.
Sylus sits on the edge of the bed, close enough to you now that you can see him in your vacant line of vision, and he nods, “Just relax,”
Your muscles soften.
“Let’s get you more comfortable, shall we?” Sylus leans closer, his fingers tugging at the buckles and straps of your clothes.
You watch as he meticulously undresses you, peeling away layers of your uniform, a satisfied groan whispered from his lips as he parts open your blouse, another when he does away with your tight leather pants. All the while, you’re boneless, trapped by his last command and fully at his mercy. The Hunter’s Academy never prepared you for this.
“You really are a pretty thing,” Sylus hums, his cool hand drifting up and down your body from the base of your bra to the top of your underwear, “so soft,”
Nerves pulse through you again, your body twitching under his hands.
“Shh,” He soothes, “it’s only me, relax,”
Your muscles melt further, any lingering tension bleeding out of your body at his words, your head rocking softly to one side, your cheek against the silk pillowcase.
“That’s a good girl,”
You sigh, a sudden needy tug deep in your belly at his words.
“Mm,” His hand drifts higher, dancing over your chest and passing over your breasts, the rough drag of your cloth bra against your nipple pulling a tiny whine from your lips.
He chuckles softly, repeating his motions and you whine again.
“How lovely and responsive you are,” Sylus says, pulling the fabric of your bra down until it catches under the swell of your breasts, “what other little noises can I pull out of you, kitten?”
He rolls a thumb over your nipple, drawing it up to a tight, almost painful peak, and you whimper at the flood of sensation through your chest and down your abdomen.
“And this?” He pinches, a tug that leaves you involuntarily jerking.
“And here?” You can’t see him with the way your head is turned, but you feel his fingers ghost over the hem of your panties and you suck in a sharp breath.
He adjusts one of your legs, opening it up at the knee to widen his access, and then he presses two fingers a little more firmly at the top of your cunt, expertly locating your clit through your panties and applying steady pressure.
You moan softly and you hear him release a tight exhale.
“My,” He lets his fingers slip down, pushing lightly against your slit, “are you wet already?”
You know you are, your body responding naturally to his voice, to his tender touch.
“I asked you a question, sweetheart,” Sylus leans over you, his breath against your cheek, “when I ask you a question, I’d like a response.”
Your heart is fluttering, a thunderously fast pounding in your chest.
His fingers hook under your chin and draw your gaze up, and gently he pushes the hair away from your face as he regards you, his dark eyes full of mirth and a little half smile on his lips. He nods at you, pleased as if you had turned your own head, “Now,” he says, “I asked if you’re wet already?”
Your knotted up tongue loosens instantly at the question, “Yes,”
“Good girl,” He coos, leaning over you to press his cool lips to yours.
You can’t kiss him back, he hasn't told you if you’re allowed to move, but he peppers you with kisses until you feel his fingers slide under the hem of your panties.
You gasp under him, heat pooling in your belly.
Sylus dips his fingers into the dripping slickness of your cunt and groans into your ear, “You like this,” he nips at your earlobe, “you’re a mess between your thighs for me, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” The word slips out, your voice breathy and taut.
“My pretty little hunter,” He slides his fingers up to your swelling clit and circles his fingers, “does that feel good?”
You moan a little, his fingers pressing more firmly as he circles, “Yes, Sylus,”
“Spread out for me,” He presses his head against your temple and turns so he can watch your body twitching as he works his fingers over you, “Wet for me,”
A hot rush spreads up through your body.
You shouldn’t like this. You shouldn’t want this. But you asked for this, a confession of your fantasies whispered between the sheets at his apartment, and he peeled them apart one by one, teasing you with questions and collecting his information, strumming you to orgasm after orgasm all the while.
You just didn’t know it would be today, weeks and weeks went by without so much as an innuendo. The sudden onset of his thrall and his control over your body shouldn’t be this alluring, but it is. You can’t move, you can’t speak unless he allows you, but every touch of his skin on yours has you ready to throw every instinct out the window because you’re pretty sure you’re wetter than you’ve ever been.
His fingers speed up and your hips buck just a little into the sensation.
“Dirty girl,” He hums, “you like the way this feels, you like that you can’t move,”
He twists your dark desires back around on you, a flutter of shame in your chest at the truth of it.
He explores your cunt with his fingers, toying with you and gathering more wetness to torture your clit with, “You like being helpless, completely in my hands,” he goads you as he works your body up to release, “unable to stop me, or tell me no,”
Your core throbs, every inch of your body a live wire, shame twisting into a tight knot of need in your belly.
“Don’t you?”
You gasp as he pushes two fingers deep inside you, “Yes, yes!”
”Are you close, kitten?” He purrs in your ear, thrusting his fingers hard and fast, his knuckles rhythmically connecting with your clit.
“Yes,” You whine, your body trembling.
“That’s too bad,” He pulls his hand free and lets your underwear snap back into place.
If you could move you’d be a whining mess, throwing yourself at him and begging for him to finish the job, but you can’t. He’s stolen your orgasm right out from under you and you can’t even ask him to finish the job.
“Hmm,” He stands, and you hear the sound of his shirt dropping to the floor, “does it hurt?”
“Yes,” You manage.
“Poor baby,” He teases, mocking your little sob, and his thumbs hook under the sides of your panties to yank them roughly off your body, “should I kiss it and make it better?”
“Please,”
He drops back down to the bed, this time sliding in between your thighs, and when he speaks again you feel his cool breath whisper across your throbbing center, “Ask nicely,”
Your voice is shaky when you finally find the words, “Please, Sylus will you touch me?”
“Touch you where?”
You whimper, the slightest involuntary jerk of your hips pulling a chuckle from his lips.
“I said,” He reminds you, “touch you where?”
“M-my clit,” You beg, “my pussy, please,”
“Was that so hard?” You can practically see him smiling.
You open your mouth, ready to respond, but his mouth closes over your clit and all thought and reason you had left disappear. He’s going to ruin you for any other man, you know it.
Sylus hums, pushing your limp legs painfully wide and laps at your center. There’s no teasing left in him, no gentle licks and featherlight brushes of fingertips, there’s just him, needing to feel you come just as badly as you do.
The knot in your gut is back with a vengeance, and every impulse in your body is to squirm away from his mouth and let him drag you back down, but you can’t. Sylus takes and takes and you have no choice but to let him.
When he lifts his mouth to take a quick breath he gives you another command, “Watch me,”
The tether between you draws your gaze down, and you gasp at the sight of him. He’s shirtless, his broad hands holding open your trembling thighs, and he eats at you like you’re a meal. Your breath comes quicker, blush lighting up your chest.
“You taste so sweet here,” He groans, barely lifting his mouth, his tongue carving a line up from your entrance to your sensitive bud and you choke out a breathy moan.
He knows you’re about to come before you do, and you see him smile into your wet heat before he shifts focus, lips closing over your clit and sucking hard, his hand sliding to push two fingers back inside and crook them just right. Within a few sharp pumps of his wrist and a steady flick of his tongue you’re moaning sharply, your release snapping in your belly so hard you see stars.
You can’t move on your own, but your body crackles apart in rhapsodic shakes and he carries you through the crest of your orgasm with lazy licks.
“Beautiful,” He murmurs, and you feel the sharp pin prick of pain at your inner thigh. He licks you there too, taking just a little taste from the vein, and then sighs pleasantly and squeezes your thigh.
He kisses you here once, and then pulls himself up, arranging your legs back down before sliding next to you in the sheets and tugging you close to his chest.
You rock into him, your body spent and boneless, unable to move to wrap your arms around him or press kisses to his chest. Instead you just are, and he pulls your body up until you’re in the perfect spot in his arms. He tucks his cheek against yours and palms your backside.
“When you wake,” Sylus whispers low, “it will be on my cock.”
You shiver, your core pulsing again.
“And you’ll stay nice and soft and wet for me,” He kisses the hollow of your ear, “my sweet doll,”
Your eyes start to grow heavy, your head lolling into his shoulder.
“You’ll let me have my wicked way with your sweet cunt,” His hands flex tightly on your skin, like he’s restraining himself from taking you now, “and when you’re close, right on the edge of coming, you’ll tell me, do you understand?”
“I understand,” Your words sound lazy, malformed in your cotton mouth but you answer him nonetheless.
“Good,” He murmurs, “and when you come, your hot pussy squeezing my cock, my thrall will end.”
A hazy question forms in your mind, but you’re so foggy now.
“But until then,” he sighs, his hands relaxing and his voice softening, “you’ll rest,”
Your eyes drift shut, a relaxed sigh on your lips, your body indistinguishable in your mind from the sheets wrapped around you.
Sylus presses a gentle kiss to your hair and strokes your back, “Sleep, little crow,” he says softly, “you’re safe with me,”
Just like before, the world falls away.
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
There’s no telling how long you’ve been asleep, not when Sylus wakes you the way he does. You come into consciousness incredibly slowly, as if you were out of your body and watching the scene in slow motion. The first thing you register through the muffled world of dreamless sleep is his voice. It doesn’t matter how deeply under you are, still encased in darkness, you hear his voice reach out to you and tug on the invisible tether tying your consciousness to his.
Needy girl.
Hands on your thighs, cool air on your cunt.
Rutting yourself on my thigh.
Were you?
Don’t you know I’m the only one allowed to make you come?
A soft moan. Yours, you think distantly.
Sylus chuckles and hums, no doubt appraising you once again with his hungry eyes. You still feel under the deep water of sleep, your body disconnected and pliant in his hands, his influence so impacting that you remain his plaything even now.
Fingers dance across your skin, skating lines of ice over your flesh. Sylus studies your body with his touch, a brush against your collarbones, the curve of your shoulders, down your arms into the ditch of your elbows. A brush of lips against your palm, a reverent kiss to your chest, his mouth nuzzling against your belly as he searches more of you with his precious touch.
Your skin turns sensitive, prickling goose flesh, and he sighs pleasantly into your skin, “So beautiful,”
His voice feels clearer now, and somewhere in your brain through the membrane of your closed eyelids you register the cool blue of early morning light.
“My darling,” He hums, another kiss, the shifting of the sheets as he moves, “my sweet girl,”
You feel the weight of him above you, his legs between yours and his torso radiating a chill as he holds himself above you. Sylus slips one hand into your hair, cradling your head for a moment before he tightens his hold and uses his grip on your scalp to draw your head back, neck stretched long and exposed.
He drops lower, body ghosting yours, and he buries his face in your throat, pushing his nose into your pulse point. A panicked thrill lances through you, your heartbeat fluttering faster.
“Shh, shh,” He whispers against your throat, “don’t be frightened,”
A sharp exhale leaves your lips.
Sylus kisses your throat, letting his lips linger, “You wanted to play with a vampire, sweetheart, this is what you get,”
Even in this false sleep, you feel your core flutter, heat pooling again.
His tongue darts out, tracing a line from your thumping pulse up your vein to your ear and he groans pleasantly, a flutter of breath across your skin, “Next time,” he shudders, “maybe I’ll make you play my favorite game,”
Your breath quickens.
“Vampire,” He nips at your throat, his fangs still sheathed, “and vampire hunter,”
The ache between your thighs melts into a throb, a pulse in time with your heart.
Sylus moves lower, lavishing open mouthed, messy kisses on your skin as he talks. His voice still a whisper, his fantasies muttered out from himself more than for you as he loses himself in your touch.
”You’ll come to me,” He teases, “ready to kill the big, bad, vampire,” he punctuates every word with a sharp lick to your breasts.
A whimper passes through your slack lips.
“Only I’ve played this game before,” His hand slides out of your hair and he settles his body weight over you, “and I never lose,”
You shiver, his words, his cold touch, it hardly matters.
“And you’ll run from me,” His hands drag over your skin, cupping your breasts, “and I’ll chase the frightened kitten into the woods,”
Your breath hitches.
He smiles against your skin, lips closing over a stiff nipple and flicking until you shudder beneath him. He hums, kissing across your chest, “Red and ripe as strawberries,” he observes, latching onto your other nipple and sucking, “I can feel how much you’re aching for me even in your sleep,”
You’re dripping, you can feel it, making a mess of the silk sheets underneath you.
He shifts, maneuvering your body to tilt your hips up and open, legs spread wide, and then you feel him. Sylus slides his impossibly hard length over your slit, rocking himself back and forth against your wetness, his velvet head nudging at your swollen bud.
Your body is trembling, fluttering under his hands.
“When I catch you,” He returns to his garish fantasy, “I’ll strip you bare,”
You feel your stomach clench at the thought.
“I’ll pin you right down to the ground,” He says it like a promise, rolling his hips harder, “and fuck your hot little cunt until you’re so cockdrunk you beg for more,”
A pained whine bubbles from your mouth, hips arching involuntarily at his words.
“Mm,” His hand drags down your chest, skimming over your body, “have I denied you too long, love?”
You want to beg, to plead, to shift your hips into the exact right position so that his next thrust pushes his cock inside.
“You’ve been so good,” He adjusts, finally nudging at your wet entrance, his hands finding yours in the sheets and drawing them above your head, fingers twined together, “just a little more,”
He inhales sharply and then with a forceful thrust he sheaths himself inside you, his hips connecting hard with yours.
You moan sharply, your pussy clenching around the thick intrusion of him.
He chokes a groan, “O-open your eyes, sweetheart,”
Your eyes snap open, and the sight of him naked above you, inside you, is enough to send your mind spiraling out of control.
“Your body was made for me,” He snaps his hips, setting a brutal pace as he ruts into you, “divined by gods for my cock,”
Pleasure rolls up through your belly and your body tightens.
“You’re mine,” His hands tightens on yours, his eyes boring into you.
Tears gather in your eyes, a hot sensation through every inch of your body at the way his thick length spears you open with every draw of his hips. The knot inside you pulls again, a taut cord threatening at any moment to snap.
“Say you’re mine,” He commands, his voice faltering into a moan.
Your mouth opens, straining against the sure drop of your orgasm but you nod, “I’m yours, S-Sylus, I’m all yours,”
“Good girl,” He pants, “there she is,”
The praise on his lips sends you higher, and you suck in a sharp breath, “I’m… Sylus, I’m close!”
He descends, moving in a flash of nearly inhuman speed, and suddenly your head is pulled to the side again and you’re cradled tight as he rolls his hips into you.
“Come,” He directs, one more command on his lips before you fall to pieces beneath him, and his sharp fangs descend into your throat.
“Sylus!” You jerk, true consciousness and feeling rushing back as the thread between his mind and yours severs, but you don’t have a moment to parse how it feels to be out of thrall when your orgasm rushes into you full force and the hot pain of his teeth melts into delicious pleasure.
He groans, shuddering above you and stopping his thrusts as he feels your walls spasm and flutter around him, the taste of your blood on his tongue grinding the world to a halt at his feet. Nothing exists but you and him and your blood on his teeth and his cock buried to the hilt inside you.
Your arms wrap around his shoulders, one hand threading into his hair, “Sylus,” you murmur, carding your fingers through his silver locks, “all yours,”
Euphoria doesn’t begin to describe it, your orgasm feels never ending. Every suck at your tender throat spurns another wave through you, and you rock yourself against him, grinding up against his pelvic bone to draw out every ounce of your pleasure.
When he pulls away, he does so with care, gentle with the skin of your neck to ensure he doesn’t hurt you anymore that he has to. Pushing up on the mattress he finds your face and you roll right into another aftershock. His eyes are brighter, wide in desperate awe of you and somehow an even darker shade of red, and that with the smear of your blood across his lips has you keening, arching and gripping against him as you babble out his name between moans.
“That’s it,” He softens, gathering you close to press his forehead to yours, “come for me again, that’s my girl,”
“Sylus,” You’re a whimpering mess, your body a pool of ecstatic pleasure, and all you can do is repeat his name and hold onto him through the wave of endorphins and emotions.
“Shh, shh,” He hushes you softly as you ride through the last flush of pleasure, “I’ve got you,”
Your skin is slick with sweat, and your legs are shaking, breath coming in shallow pants as you finally come back down.
Sylus holds you, bracing you to his chest and he makes short work of rolling you both without disconnecting your bodies. When he settles he’s on his back with you perched on his hips, his fingers carving a line up and down your spine to settle you.
Flush and trembling, you find his eyes again.
His brows draw together, a knit line of tender concern, and he brushes his thumb over your jaw, “Don’t bite your lip,”
Your mouth relaxes, you hadn’t even known you were doing it, and your eyes flick away. He says something, words you can hardly hear through the dizzy rush of your brain trying to catch up with the past few hours.
“Sweetheart,” he smooths his thumb over your cheek, “look me in the eyes, answer me,”
Your head snaps back up.
“Was I too rough?” He asks softly.
You don’t have words yet, you can’t reach them and string them together, but you shake your head.
”Are you sure?” His hands draw up and down your body slowly like he’s checking you for something, his broad hands finally coming to rest over yours where you brace yourself on his chest.
You nod to his answer his question, “I’m sure,”
He relaxes under you, pressing your hands into his chest over his heart, and it would turn you to romantic putty if he wasn’t still seated fully inside you and if your blood wasn’t staining his mouth. Your eyes keep flicking down to his mouth, crimson across his plush bottom lip, smears on his chin, a drip that made it to the edge and slipped down his neck.
”Hmm,” His lips turn up into a smile and you sheepishly look back up, “are you still hungry, love?”
Your stomach clenches, his voice turning husky again the moment he spies your renewed arousal.
This time though, you’re awake. The heavy fog of his control and your barrage of orgasms has started to lift, and you need something more.
You let your body melt, relaxing against him and letting his cock shift inside you, “Are you?”
He almost laughs at your expression, one brow raised to challenge him as you push up to straddle him. His eyes rake over you and you feel his cock twitch, “You’d think I would have had my fill of you,” he says, hands moving to your hips, “but I find you make me insatiable, the more I taste you, the more I fuck you, the more I want,”
“A vampire who’s never satisfied?” You tease him, “how original,”
He exhales softly through his nose, smiling, “You’re the one still grinding on my cock, kitten,”
You blush, but make no effort to stop unconsciously rocking your hips against him.
“I was wrong, you’re the insatiable one,” He says appreciatively, and he smoothly slides his hands up your back to brace you so that when he sits up you stay with him.
“If I was I’d never admit it,”
He smacks your ass lightly with his palm and you wrap your legs around him, the position change sinking you back down onto his length and you sigh.
”After what you just let me do to you?” Sylus shakes his head, his voice dropping the teasing tone when he presses his lips to your chest, “That’s admission enough,”
He takes both hands to grip your backside, pressing into your soft flesh, and drags you forwards to coax you into motion.
Holding onto his shoulders you follow his lead, working your hips back and forth, letting the press of his hands guide your speed. The feeling is dizzying, his cock feeling thicker and more filling in this position, and you can’t help the stammered moans and pants that bubble out of you with every downstroke connecting your hips to his.
Sylus mutters a curse into your skin, his fingers pressing hard enough to leave bruises, and then you feel his tongue.
“Fuck,” You whine, “Sylus,”
He pulls at your hips harder and you pick up the pace, grinding your heels into the mattress for the right leverage, losing yourself to the steady wet sound of him inside you and the heat building back up in your belly.
You shiver at the sensation of his tongue traveling, dragging a line up your chest from the swell of your breast to your collarbone, and when he groans and huffs a needy breath at your throat, you realize what has him so flustered.
“T-take more,” Your hand in his hair again to direct his head, pushing him towards your throat.
“Mm-mm,” He shakes his head and drops the flat of his tongue over the bleeding teeth marks at your throat.
You hiss sharply, a familiar roll of pleasure through you and you grip his hair, “Please, baby, please,”
“Not tonight,” He laps at you again, “just cleaning you up,”
“God,” You moan, your pace faltering for a moment until the pressure of his hands pushes you back into action.
“Don’t stop,” He urges you, pulling away from your throat and using one hand to tug you close by the back of the neck, “you feel…”
You have to hold on, you need him to come after all the work he’s put into pleasuring you, and you can’t let yourself fall apart until he does. You lock eyes with him and his expression, almost pained, his mouth open in silent pleasure and still painted red, pushes you through the ache in your hips and the burning in your thighs. He’s so close. Nearly, nearly there.
”Sylus,” Your voice breathy, “kiss me,”
There’s a flicker of a smile across his mouth but he surges up, capturing your lips in a desperate kiss. His tongue catches against yours, and you taste the iron of your own blood, you feel the sharpness of his fangs, but all it does is drive you closer and closer to delicious release.
“My sinful little thing,” He pants against your mouth, “you never stop surprising me,”
Your eyes flutter shut, your nails tight against his shoulders, “Please, I need it,”
“What do you need?” He croons, hungrily at your lips once more.
You moan against his mouth, tugging his hair sharply, “Come,” you pant, nearly out of breath, “I need your cum,”
He shudders, groaning.
“Sylus!” You whine again, “Inside, please, please,”
His hand slips from your hair, and the equilibrium changes things back to Sylus in total control. With both hands secured on your ass he takes over, dragging you fast and hard on his cock and meeting every thrust with a hard jut of his hips. He’s fucking into you with reckless need, the head of his cock connecting over and over again with your cervix, and you arch and cry out in his arms.
“No,” He pants, pulling you back to him, “eyes on me,”
“Please,” You beg again, your cunt spasming and fluttering, “I-I’ll come if you just,”
He loses himself immediately, pulling you down hard and choking out a moan, spilling his release deep and grinding you down to prolong his own pleasure, but you’re falling apart right behind him in a breath. A final, dizzying orgasm taking your body like a soft wave, languid and warm, and Sylus nods as you ride it out, coaxing you through every last moment.
When you settle, you feel how much your body is trembling, and he releases his tight grip on your hips to gently massage your skin, soothing touches as he softens inside you.
“Oh my god,” You laugh softly, your forehead pressed to his, “that was,”
“Good?” He asks, a soft, quick kiss to your lips.
“Perfect,” You sigh, “you were perfect.”
He nods, drinking you in for a moment more before he exhales and relaxes, leaning back and meeting your eyes.
“I must look a mess,” You press your cool knuckles to the warmth of your flushed cheeks.
“A beautiful mess,” He counters gently.
You smile lazily at him, feeling boneless and sated and delicious.
Sylus takes the pad of his thumb to the very tip of his razor sharp fangs and pierces his skin, a bead of his own dark blood rising up from the puncture on his pale skin.
His fangs retract and he reaches for you, smoothing his bleeding thumb over the bite mark at your throat. You hiss sharply at the sensation and grip his shoulder, the burn of your skin knitting itself back together something you don’t know if you’ll ever get used to.
“I was too rough with you,” He comments, like he’s filing away that information for himself for next time.
You shake your head though, resting your hand on his wrist, “You weren’t, I wanted every bit of it,”
His thumb sweeps a final line over your skin and he kisses you again, “I’ll keep that in mind,”
You smile against his lips, and then Sylus gives you one final, quick peck.
“I think a shower,” He says, sliding you both smoothly off the bed and keeping you tucked in his arms, “and a nap,”
“I think that’s a perfect idea,”
“And I’m hardly hungry anymore,” He teases as he carries you into the bathroom, “but we��ll order something up for you,”
You nod, relaxing into his care.
“Perhaps a movie,” He suggests, sliding you onto the counter so he can start the shower, “or I could always read to you?”
“Or you could tell me more about next time,” You say slyly, “what was it? Chasing me down in the woods?”
He shakes his head, testing the warmth of the water on his fingertips.
“Having your way with me?” You stretch out your leg to reach him, dragging your foot down his thigh, “Should I struggle? Beg you to stop?”
His hand snaps up, closing around your ankle and he turns towards you, “Be careful, sweetheart,”
“I’m simply curious,” You tease.
“Mhm,” He scoops you back up and walks you straight into the shower until your back is against the chilly tile wall, “Curious?”
You feel him hardening again against your belly and you nod.
“Kitten,” He smirks, “you know what they say about curiosity, don’t you?”
“I think I need a little reminder,” You sigh, holding onto his shoulders again.
He kisses you again, pressing you into the shower wall, a smile on his mouth as he nips at your lip, “I’ll bet you do,”
#love and deepspace#lnds#love and deepspace fic#lnds ff#lnds fic#lnds smut#sylus#sylus x you#sylus x reader#lnds sylus#sylus qin#sylus ff#sylus smut#sylus fic#honeyhotteoks fic
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
GIANNA'S KINKTOBER '24 SEASON
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Kinktober day ten.
Jealous Lando (2.2k words)
summary: Something unleashes inside Lando when you run into one of your coworkers, his shameless invitation making him want to remind you who you belong to.
warnings: NSFW, +18, smut, MDNI, blow job, fingering, jealous!lando, possessive!lando.
You found yourselves sitting in a somewhat fancy café in Austin, enjoying the warm weather as he told you about his day.
Lando had been a little bit busy with the duties that carried being a Formula One driver, so any little time you could spend with each other was well appreciated, so sitting really close to him in one of the couches as you sipped your coffee was nice.
However, you took a few days of vacations to go with him to the American races, but that didn’t mean you were completely off the hook since you carried your laptop everywhere in case you needed to get something done, which is what happened right now.
You got a notification on your phone from what seemed like an important email, so you pulled your laptop out to take a look at the file your boss had shared with you, promising Lando it wouldn’t take more than five minutes.
It had been like fifteen minutes and you were still reviewing it, now with your phone on your ear while you talked with someone about this new project you were supposed to take over once you got back as Lando had your computer on his lap.
He didn’t really mind, or at least that was what he always told you. Here is the thing: he understood that your job was important for you, and he appreciated the fact that you took a few days just so you could be with him, but sometimes he just wished you could quit so he could take you everywhere with him without having to worry about you focusing on a screen instead of him.
Was that selfish? Maybe, but who could blame him for wanting his girlfriend to be all his?
You would never describe Lando as the possessive type, and maybe it was because he never voiced his concerns out loud. He was jealous sometimes, that’s for sure, but possessive? Not really.
“Sorry, baby. I really had to take this,” you said as you hung up the phone.
“It’s okay, but I don’t understand why you still have to do all of this if you are supposed to be on vacation.”
“I know, I’m sorry. I thought I would be able to go the full month without having to do any of this,” you sighed as you took one last look at the email. “I will try to stay off work for the rest of the time we are together, I promise.”
That really pissed him off. If you were on vacation, shouldn’t you be able to enjoy it? Lando was building up the courage to tell you what he had been thinking pretty much your entire relationship, carefully thinking about his words. “Maybe you should quit-”
“Oh, hi Y/N,” a random voice interrupted him, making both of you look up. You both saw one of your coworkers standing there, entirely ruining Lando’s plan to covince you to leave your job and become a full-time wag. He could already feel his blood boiling.
“Oh- hi,” you replied, trying to remember the guy’s name.
“I didn’t know you were here. I mean, I knew you were off, but I assumed you were just staying home. Nice to see you are enjoying your free time travelling.” He was completely ignoring Lando, not directing a single word to him, not even a quick glare, and Lando didn’t like that. Not one bit.
“Yeah, I took time off to go to a few races,” you said, motioning your head towards your now upset boyfriend. “What about you?”
“I’m here to attend my brother’s wedding,” he said with a small laugh. “But I didn’t bring anyone with me, so it will be a bit awkward to be the best man without a date.”
Lando already knew where this was going, and he was using all his self-control not to punch the guy in the face and tell him to fuck off. They were in a public place anyway, and he knew his team would not like to see something like this hit the news, but man, the guy really deserved it.
“Hey, unless you are free tomorrow. Would you be interested in coming with me? You know, free food and free buzz. Big party.” At that moment, Lando felt his coherent thoughts leave his mind, his hand finding a place on your thigh and squeezing it softly as he killed him with a glare.
“We’re busy, actually, can’t you see?” Lando finally spoke, in a tone you had never heard before, as he pointed to the open laptop that still rested on his lap.
“Oh, I didn’t mean right now," the guy replied, finally acknowledging Lando’s presence, but he turned to face you again. “There is a rehearsal tonight, but tomorrow-”
“We have plans for tomorrow." Lando interrupted, bringing you closer to him with his hand still gripping your thigh. “Don’t we?” He said, looking at you.
You looked back at him, slightly blushing at your boyfriend’s actions. “Yeah, sorry… uh”
“Joe”
“Right, Joe,” you repeated, giving him a friendly smile “Sorry, Joe.”
“Good luck being alone at the wedding though." Lando wasn’t trying to be friendly at all; if anything, he just wanted him to stop hitting on you and leave immediately. “See you around, mate.”
Joe looked at you, as if he were asking you for confirmation to leave. “I’ll see you back at the office,” you said, waving him goodbye.
Joe sighed loudly as he started to walk away, and Lando smiled proudly and kissed your temple.
“Wow, I knew you were jealous, but I didn’t think you were that jealous," you whispered, placing your hand on top of his.
“I’m not,” he frowned his eyebrows as if he was being falsely accused. “We’re just really busy.”
He stared at you with eyes full of... anger? You weren’t sure, but you knew for a fact that he’d be leaving marks on your thigh if he kept gripping you like that.
“You know I would’ve said no, right? You didn’t have to scare him off like that.”
“We’re leaving.” Was all he replied, taking his hand away as he closed your laptop, standing up and walking away from where you were sitting.
You tried to follow him, but he was walking so quick he was already waiting in the car when you got there. You let out a sigh as you opened the door, sitting beside him as you tried to think of something you could say to get his mind off what just happened.
“So, it’s a sprint weekend. You haven’t done one of those in a while.”
But he barely let out a sound at your words, at least acknowledging that you were talking to him but not caring enough to say something back. That’s how it was for the rest of the ride back to the hotel, you trying to talk about anything and him just grunting, and by the way he was gripping the stearing wheel, you knew he wouldn’t let this go any time soon.
Once he parked the car, he got out and waited for you a few seconds to collect your things and be next to him, grabbing your hand tightly as he guided you to the elevator and back to your room, and as soon as you were inside, he dropped your hand and found a seat on the small couch that was placed next to the hotel bed, staring at you as if he was waiting for you to apologise for something that wasn’t even your fault.
“Lando, let’s not do this, please. I would have never in a million years accepted to go with him, even if you weren’t there-”
“On your knees.”
“What?” You asked in disbelief after a few seconds of silence as he unbuckled his trousers and pushed them down until they were pooling on his ankles.
“You heard me, go on.”
You slowly made your way there, watching him as he slowly pumped his length. At this point, you weren’t even thinking clearly anymore, and doing as he said just came naturally to you, so you dropped to your knees once you were in front of him, swallowing harshly when he motioned his head towards his angry cock.
Not thinking twice, you took him in your mouth and started working on it, knowing teasing him right now was far from a good idea.
“Why don’t you take some more, love?” He said as he quickly took a hold of your hair, pushing your head down his shaft.
You could really feel his size because of the stretch your mouth feels, which you always did, but given the situation, it somehow felt more prominent. Your cheeks were hollowing around him, and one of your hands was wrapped around his base as your other one gripped his thigh, nails digging into his tanned skin.
“You know you are mine, right?” He asked you in a shaky tone. “No other guys but me should be thinking about talking to you, asking you to be their date- ah- only I get to have you like this, so pretty with your mouth around my cock.”
You let out a moan at his words, secretly loving this side of your boyfriend, and the vibrations made him let out another moan as he used his grip on your hair to guide your movements.
“No one else will ever see you like this, right, baby?” You tried and failed to nod your head; you didn’t even have control anymore, you were just trying to follow what Lando was silently instructing you to do.
His hold was getting tighter as you sucked his crown, which made him let out the deepest moan you have ever heard from him as his fingers tightened even more, unintentionally bucking his hips up once. You gagged around his cock, taking it gracefully as mascara tears rolled down your face.
“Shit, I could have you like this at all times. You are doing so good, angel.” His words were breathy and full of bliss as he got closer and closer to his release.
The way his cock twitched inside you and his thighs tensed under your hand made you know he was seconds away, the echoes of his moans bouncing off the walls as he started thrusting his hips up, his cock hitting deep inside your throat. With one last hit, you felt his hot cum filling your mouth, some of it smearing on the sides as you happily swallowed all of it, making you slow your movements down with his hand.
When he started to catch his breath, he pulled your head off his cock, dropping your hair and patting his lap so you would sit there, which you immediately obeyed.
“Why don’t you quit that stupid job so I don’t have to worry about assholes like him hitting on you?” Lando’s hands were roaming your thighs, slightly parting them as his hand sneaked into your underwear.
Your breath hitched when his fingers explored your folds, finally landing on your clit with an insane pressure. He started rubbing hard circles, his mouth so close to your neck you could feel his hot breath.
“You are mine.” A moan scaped your lips at this. “Say it.”
“I’m yours, all yours.”
As soon as you said this, one of his fingers entered your desperate hole, quickly finding a pace for you. He was desperate to make you come, and you knew he would get it within minutes if he kept playing with you like this.
Lando found a place on your neck, kissing and sucking your sensitive skin as he dipped a second finger inside you. “You think anyone else could make you feel this good? Mhm?”
“No,” you breathed out, fingers gripping his thighs.
“Good.”
You weren’t sure if it was his fingers or his words, but your stomach was quickly building up that familiar feeling as your hips started moving against his hand, making him use one more finger as you completely lost yourself in pleasure.
“Lando- fuck.”
“That’s it. Cum for me, love.”
His teeth were niping the skin on your shoulder, and only seconds before your orgasm hit you, you let out a loud moan, making him smile as he somehow fastened his pace.
With a few more pumps, a wave of bliss travelled through your body, your head falling back and into his shoulder as he helped you through your orgasm. At this point, your body had stopped moving, and all you could do was moan and squirm under his touch.
“‘s too much,” you managed to say.
“Say it again.”
“Say what again?”
“Say you are mine.”
“I’m- ah- I’m yours, Lando, only yours. Shit” You complied as a string of moans scaped your parted lips.
“Good girl,” he said, finally taking his hand away from your sensitive pussy and kissing you, slow and possessive as one of his fingers cleaned the cum that was still on the side of your mouth. “Now, let’s get you changed. We’re going to dinner.” Lando softly pushed you off his lap, standing up as he pulled his trousers back up. “Oh, and make sure to wear that black dress I love so much.”
↺ back to navigation — Kinktober masterlist
#giannaln4 kinktober#lando norris x reader#lando norris#ln4#lando norris fluff#lando norris fanfic#lando norris imagine#lando norris smut#lando norris x you#ln4 fluff#ln4 imagine#ln4 fic#giannaln4 writes#f1#formula 1#lando norris x y/n#lando norris one shot#lando norris oneshot#lando norris angst#f1 x reader#mclaren
885 notes
·
View notes