#though occasionally i can just stay up all night but only occasionally
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
I remember when my middle school counselor was encouraging me to get more sleep at night, as that would help some of my irritable moods. And I, a spiteful nerd, pulled out the facts that
Teens are more likely to get hardwired to stay up later and sleep in later
Teens needed a full 10 hours of sleep (if not more)
I had to catch the bus that came at 7am
I didn't get home until 4pm
Often parents wake up their teens on weekends so they don't sleep the day away, my mother was sometimes like this.
Would better sleep had made a difference? Should I have followed her advice by trying to sleep just ten minutes earlier each night until it stuck? Who knows. In high school I was going to bed at 9pm again and was still depressed.
But absolutely absolutely seconding what mossiest said. My schedule was essentially being between a rock and a hard place in terms of making time for any sort of mindfulness (and trying not to get ridiculed for it in the process.)
Throughout high school and college I was getting the same advice again. And part of me was resistant at times (wdym I have to drink more water. Coffee and juice is just fine) but the absolutely trial and error of realizing what dehydration does to you once it catches up to you puts things in perspective.
I also wonder how much of the disconnect was simply a miscommunication. Especially with things like changing your attitude/mindset. It can come off as backhanded (which teens get often) or confusing (doubly if youre neurodivergent, shocker) or just plain impossible (there was no clear instructions. Best I got was the same counselor giving me homework to write five nice things about myself. I think I was able only to do two on my own? Kudos to her I was a hardheaded case fnsdkjnfsdj)
In high school when I had a proper therapist she was quickly on the same page as me. Realized how little I could do about some of my circumstances and lifestyle, and really honed in on the things I could do. And then was willing to advocate on my behalf for things that I couldn't on my own in joint sessions.
Anyways, all this to say: Kids you absolutely do need to eat enough protein and an occasional vegetable and drink water it does help your mood. Maybe you're not in the position to go buy the foods that would make this easy and simple for you to do. Maybe you have responsibilities and stressors that keep you up at night. OP is right though, it does help. Not solve everything, but help. If you can, honestly pick a struggle; choosing just one to improve might give you the boost enough to get some other things in order. Even if its just journaling or doodling on the regular.
15 year old me would be so annoyed with 21 year old me for being like I have a lifelong mental illness but I’m essentially symptom free right now and that’s partially because of my medication, but things like regular exercise, keeping a routine, trying to get enough sleep, and changing my attitude really do help keep me stable. but that’s not “do yoga” advice, that’s getting a different perspective as you grow up and I really wish I didn’t dismiss stuff like that as wellness blogger self help book bullshit back then
33K notes
·
View notes
Text
rambling about a dom ftm low-honor arthur with a sub top reader.
gn amab top reader. pretty much just a bunch of unprotected sex so some talk of pregnancy and a little bit of public sex. mostly proofread. also this IS supposed to be consensual, even if it's not blatantly stated.
just thinking about low honor arthur who, after a quick cat and mouse game, has your wrists tied to the headboard of a hotel room you’d been staying the night in. he still has his hat on his head as he rides your cock, rolling his hips with a crude grace befitting of him. his walls squeeze around you with the periodic drop of his hips, and even though you’re tied up (and well. this is arthur’s doing after all) he’s still got a hand pressed against your chest to keep you held down.
his groans can only barely cover up the wet squelching sounds coming from his cunt as he humps your cock. you’ve already cum once—or maybe twice now, you’re not really sure—but a wave of euphoria washes over you anyway as the coil in your stomach snaps, his pussy having successfully milked another one from you in what felt like no time at all.
for a moment arthur keeps rutting on your cock, until finally the ache subsides and he’s pulsating around you, his rough motions slowly coming to a stop. while you manage to keep your eyes open you can see arthur setting his hat down onto the table beside the bed, his hips raising off your aching cock. foolishly you think he’s giving you a break, but you know better. this is arthur; he wants to be filled to the absolute brim. as expected, he sits on your dick again, evoking a long, breathy groan as his head falls back.
“jus’ sit tight and let me use this cock o’ yours, all right?” he reminds you gruffly at the sight of your twitching arms, his hand residing on your chest keeps its hold as if you’ll break out of the restraints. not that you’re trying to, and he knows that, but the feeling of holding you down is evidently making him as wet as it is making you hard.
he leans over you, his hands now gripping the headboard that shakes against the elegantly-plastered walls. you weakly buck your hips in an attempt to meet his determined bouncing but it’s futile when he squeezes around you. your mind goes blank, and now arthur’s lips are at your ear as he groans, muttering a nonsensical mix of praise and whatever else. he’s so slick that you slip out of him for a moment before he takes you again, humping your cock until once more you cum inside of him with what little you can and he immediately follows before stopping and leaning back.
his chest is glistening with sweat as it rises and falls with his now evened breathing. he groans as he falls forward again, this time resting his body against yours, his lips back to your ear to kiss beneath it. he unties your hands with a dirty smile before he closes his eyes. you follow suite in slumber, only occasionally waking up to the feeling of arthur’s hips moving in his sleep, and the thought of arthur riding your aching cock again in the morning has your head fuzzy and your dick twitching with an exhausted but enticed delight.
thinking about how if you were fucking him without a condom he would lock his legs around your waist when you’d try pulling out and make you cum inside of him, just for the hell of it. afterwards he’d give you a faux scolding, talking about how irresponsible you ought to be to do something like that, only to flip the both of you over and ride you ‘till you cum inside of him again and again until he’s really had his fill.
i also like to imagine the confidence that low-honor arthur has; if he wanted you, kissing up your neck and pulling you flush against him works well enough, but sometimes he likes to lay flat on his back, stripped naked with his legs spread, giving his pussy a good slap before taunting you with some sort of challenge. if he’s up for it, he might rub his clit, making you watch as pumps his fingers into his cunt. if he cums, he’ll spread himself open to entice you with the sight of his gushing cum. most of the time he’ll let you have your way, fucking into him at whatever pace you desire so long as your cum ends up in the same place, nestled deep inside him.
you’d fuck arthur while he’s bended over where after you’re done, you’ll pull out and watch as he spreads his legs, pulling at the folds of his pussy to show your cum oozing out of him like honey. he might even sit on your face and have you lick him clean too.
now arthur wouldn’t actually want to get pregnant.. however that doesn’t stop him from wanting to get fucked like he does. he’ll loll his head back and let you fuck him like you're trying to breed him, splitting his pussy open on your cock and filling him up to where his legs feel like they’re permanently spread apart to give you room to slot yourself back into him. arthur will lay back and listen to the sound of your cock pounding into his wet cunt and only when your old cum is forced to seep out of him in favor of a new batch will he close his legs, making sure his belly is kept full with just you.
(and god knows if he let it happen he wouldn’t be caught dead without a big belly, always walking around camp barefoot having to stick to just doing chores. he’d be popping out kids left and right without a care in the world. abigail would faint if she saw arthur’s belly growing again months after already just having one kid. thinking about it, abigail or dutch would probably have to give you and arthur a different version of The Talk if he doesn’t wave it off or else he might really find himself bedridden with child more times than he can count)
arthur doesn’t need to be pregnant to have the whole camp know what you’re up to when you go out at night. you’ll return the next morning with bags under your eyes alongside an arthur with a little pep in his step. although you’ll be lucky if he’s considerate enough to actually leave camp; he may even offer an innocent night bath at some lake where he’ll strip his clothes directly in your line of sight, sauntering into the water with a not very innocent smirk on his face to pair. you might actually get a bath in, but it probably won’t do you any good when he just lays you on your back on the grass and rides you anyway.
as much as he loves being on top of you, arthur also likes being flat on his stomach. he’ll moan and groan more than usual, especially if you’re at camp he’ll be egging you on to take him harder and will reach back to grab your legs and fuck himself on your dick if you slow down or try to pull out. he likes having you press him against the dirt or grass so that afterwards he can really see the mess you made painted on his body (as well as use it as an excuse to bathe together).
he’ll talk a lot during sex too, but it’s mostly just muttering about your dick or calling you names. he’ll call you a whore as he bounces on your cock while leading your head to his chest to suck on his nipples. arthur would also leave marks on your body where everyone can see and will revel in the comments unsuspecting people will make that want to know who left them. (john will roll his eyes because dear god does he know who left them.)
of course i have to add how much arthur would love clothed sex. he likes it fast and dirty, and the time it takes to undress is simply one minute too long for him. he’ll ride you through your jeans if he has to, he’ll hump and grind against your cock until the front of your clothes are soaked.
among things like a game of chase i think a form of foreplay for arthur would be something like poker. especially if you’re bad at it, he’ll play any type of game with you if he knows he’ll win so he can have his way with you. if you want he’ll even hunt you down like a wolf, stalking you in the woods until you’re so eager you can hardly stand it, and then he’ll strike; knocking you down so fast you won’t even know what hit you until your belt is unbuckled and arthur’s on your dick looking down at you like he just caught his prey.
one of arthur’s favorite things is having you eat him out, he’ll keep his legs around your head to make sure your mouth stays on him. he wants everything you’ll give him, your tongue diving into him stretching him out. he wants to feel you suck and spit on his clit, your teeth nibbling on him and pulling his lips apart to dip your fingers into his cunt. if his legs aren’t shaking by the end of it he’ll make you do it all again till your jaw is aching and your face is covered in his slick.
last thing i think arthur would actually like getting caught having sex. he likes the thrill of fucking at camp where someone like micah or john can hear, but even more so would love getting caught and walked in on. even if he's wanted, he'll ride you in a hotel room with the door cracked open, moaning just a bit louder than he usually would. arthur will have you bend him over somewhere in the woods, and isn't afraid to make direct eye contact with any passer by who sees. he'll shoot anyone who's truly a threat of course, but if he were to hear or see someone touching themself as they watch you, he'll cum on the spot with his eyes rolling to the back of his head.
#rdr2 x male reader#arthur morgan x male reader#arthur morgan x top male reader#low honor arthur morgan x male reader#top male reader#afab character#ftm character#my writngs#had this as a wip for so long im so sorry lmao#its basically nothing yet i was unmotivated but here it is
107 notes
·
View notes
Text
I really would love more GW2 tumblr events. The art party is the only one that happens frequently, with sometimes RP events popping up, but it would be so cool to just have a GW2 tumblr hangout event.
No goal just hang out. Talk about OCs with people, be silly. I remember once someone hosted just a hangout session but it only happened one time.
The ordeal of organising events is a lot though, I know I wouldn't be up for that... Also might need to be a big GW2 blog to get people to notice it anyway.. Really hope to find more GW2 tumblr events in the future in any case, whatever form they would take.
#gw2#guild wars 2#guildwars2#this past art party was very fun and made me wish for just a hangout#it was so fun being silly and talking about our ocs#but also the two servers...#i have accounts for both and my na account is older but nowadays i follow a more normal eu sleep schedule than back then#so if events do happen usually only eu ones are at a reasonable time for me#though occasionally i can just stay up all night but only occasionally
67 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hii!! I would like to request a Sukuna x Reader, bcs I just love how you write him:))
The Reader gets jealous/upset because Sukuna gets Concubines, with a happy ending though please!
Hope you have a great day!!:))
to provoke — ryomen sukuna x f!reader
a/n: glad you like him! <3
you had always known that being with sukuna meant navigating through a maze of power plays and manipulation. his affection—if it could be called that—was far from simple.
but nothing had quite prepared you for this.
the concubines had arrived without warning, and with them, an unsettling shift in the atmosphere.
it wasn’t just their presence—it was the way they paraded through the palace, casting knowing glances in your direction, their soft laughter echoing behind closed doors.
at first, you’d ignored it, pretending their arrival hadn’t bothered you. after all, sukuna did what he wanted—always had. you were no stranger to his need to push limits, to test you.
but the whispers, the sly smiles, the way they flaunted themselves in his presence—it wore on you. each teasing glance felt like a needle, pricking at the thin veil of composure you were desperately trying to maintain.
one night, as you passed a group of them in the corridor, one of the concubines stepped forward, her lips curving into a smirk.
“he’s quite fond of us, you know,” she murmured, her tone almost sweet, but dripping with venom. “you must feel so… left out.”
her words struck you. it is one thing for sukuna to do something, but for them to think that they can even talk to you?
it seemed the bitch forgot who her queen is.
her impudence was the reason why her head was separated from her body and laid on the ground. you let out a breath, as the rest of the concubines fled the scene.
you wiped the blood of your face, eyes boring into the woman’s lifeless eyes. if sukuna wanted his concubines, fine. you wouldn’t fight for his attention. you wouldn’t play his games.
days passed. the concubines roamed the halls freely, their shrill laughter occasionally filtering through the walls as they entertained him. you found solace in avoiding them all—avoiding him
perhaps, you thought bitterly, if you stayed out of sight long enough, he'd forget you altogether. but sukuna, being who he was, had no intention of letting that happen.
“you’ve been quiet,” his voice cuts through the air one evening, startling you from your thoughts.
he stands in the doorway of your chambers, his presence filling the room with that suffocating air of dominance that never fails to make your skin prickle.
“I have nothing to say,” you reply, not bothering to look up from where you sit. your voice is even, but you know he can hear the tension lying just beneath the surface.
“oh?” he steps closer, the smirk in his voice unmistakable. “and here I thought you might have something to say about the new additions to my palace.”
your hands tighten in your lap, but you force yourself to remain calm. “they’re none of my concern, husband.”
sukuna’s laugh is low, mocking. “really? you’re not even a little bit jealous?”
you clench your jaw, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. this is exactly what he wants—he brought them here to provoke you, to see how far he can push before you break.
but you won’t break. not this time.
“they’re beautiful, aren’t they?” sukuna continues, his voice a lazy drawl as he leans against the wall, watching you closely. “so eager to please. so quick to obey.”
your stomach twists, but you remain silent.
“and yet…” he trails off, his gaze sharpening. “you’ve been avoiding me, wife.”
“I’ve had no reason to be around,” you mutter, finally meeting his gaze, the weight of his scrutiny pressing down on you. you scowl. “and my pride will not allow me to be around a man who does not respect me.”
sukuna’s expression darkens, the amusement slipping slightly as he straightens. “is that what you think?”
you stare at him, defiant, but he only smirks again, his eyes glinting with something more dangerous now. without another word, he turns, motioning for you to follow.
confused, but unwilling to let him have the upper hand, you rise and trail after him, your steps hesitant. sukuna leads you through the palace, deeper into the dimly lit halls until you reach a secluded chamber.
he pushes the doors open with a casual flick of his wrist, revealing what lies inside.
you freeze, breath catching in your throat.
the concubines—every last one of them—lie lifeless on the floor, their bodies unnervingly still. blood pools beneath them, staining the once pristine floor. the air is thick with the scent of death.
sukuna steps inside, his voice disturbingly casual. “they served their purpose.”
you can’t speak. your mind reels, torn between shock and something else—something dark and twisted that tells you this is sukuna’s way of proving something to you. it’s not that you’re unused to carnage.
hell, you even killed one yourself.
but their bodies are so deformed beyond comprehension, they no longer look like humans.
“they were never meant to last,” he says, glancing at you with a bored expression, as if the carnage before him is nothing more than a trivial inconvenience. “did you really think they meant anything?”
the words hang in the air, heavy and suffocating.
“you killed them?” you whisper, your voice barely audible.
sukuna’s smirk widens, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “of course. they were disposable.”
a twisted part of you wants to feel relief—relief that they’re gone, that the torment is over. but another part of you feels sickened by the sight, by the casual cruelty of it all.
“you’re the only one deemed my queen,” sukuna says, stepping closer until he’s looming over you, his hand gripping your chin with just enough force to make you wince. “remember that.”
his words send a shiver down your spine, a mix of fear and something else pooling in your stomach. sukuna is many things—cruel, violent, unyielding.
but in his own twisted way, this is his version of loyalty. his way of showing you that no matter how many games he plays, you’re the only one who truly matters.
you swallow hard, meeting his gaze. “and what if I leave?”
sukuna’s grin widens, his eyes narrowing with dark amusement. “you won’t.”
taglist: @magenta-cat-drawingss@pompompurin1028@scul-pted@requiem626k@nameless-shrimp@sonder-paradise@jessbeinme15s-notebook @todorokichills @ginneko @missrown @shrynkk @simplyxsinned @beautiful-is-boring @starlostlaiba @izukus-gf @irethepotato @thekaylahub @dazaisbloodybandages @aeanya @sweetcloudsimp @moon-catto @the-midnightskies@pianopuppygirl @gojosblackqueen @kryscent @kunikida-simp @whoami-72 @mx-0-child @fiona782 @kisakitwister @imjustasimpxd @psychopotatomeme @dreamcastgirl99 @watyousayin @doobiebochana @laylasbunbunny @hojicha-expresso @4sat0ruu @nineooooo @chuuyasboots @alekssashka7 @rieejjyubi02 @satoryaa @nothisispatrick300 @fallencrescentmoon @etheviese @ho34gojo @the-mom-friend-dot-com @the-weeping-author
@libbyistired @anon1412@maehemthemisfit @satorustar @b4nka1@sad-darksoul@ko-fi-heart@pumpkindudeishere@suyaaachin@babyqueen17@chaosguy352@murakami-kotone@sukun4ryomen@yumieis@hearts4itoshi@sleepyxxhead@dunixxd@sleepycrybbylaiah @imjustaduckwholikesbread @emilyyyy-08@spacebaby1@arabellatreaty@viscade @washeduphasbeen @janbannan @sugurubabe @enidths @mwtsxri @peppersapro @uranosbaaee @lifeisadumpie @guacam011y @kurooandkenmasslut @callmemirro @your-sleeparalysisdem0n @dindjarins1ut @candy-s72
copyright © tender-rosiey
do not copy or plagiarize
check out my buy me a coffee!
#jjk x you#jjk imagines#jjk x reader#sukuna x reader#sukuna x you#sukuna x y/n#ryomen sukuna x reader#ryomen sukuna x you#sukuna ryomen x you#sukuna ryomen x reader#ryomen x reader#ryomen x you#jjk sukuna x reader#jjk x y/n
2K notes
·
View notes
Note
Hello! Just wanted to say I absolutely love your writing! A bit of a request for the batboys (Jason, Tim, Dick, and Damian), just something silly.
I recently saw a video of a girl saying her boyfriend's entire name as if he was in trouble only for her to tell him she loved him. It was funny to me at the time, it was also late at night lol.
Soo... How would the boys react to reader suddenly saying their full name out of the blue as if they were in trouble as a prank? 👀👀🤭
Dick is thinking to death about what he might done to earn you saying his full name, so much so the poor man was sweating bullets which each step he took in your direction
Did he miss an anniversary?
Date night?
Hayley’s vet appointment?
He wanted to know badly so that he could think up a way to make it up to you however you wanted. Steal his clothes because they smell like him, he didn’t care, he just didn’t like you using his full name.
So as he looked you deep in the eyes, mentally preparing for whatever left your mouth, only for you to relax your face and kiss his cheek much to his surprise.
‘I love you.’ You told him sweetly as you smiled at him.
‘What?’ Dick said.
‘I love you.’ You repeated, still smiling.
‘That’s…that’s all you’ve called my full, legal government name for, to tell me you love me?’ Dick asked as though he was waiting for a joke that was never going to come.
‘Yep.’ You said.
‘No catch.’
‘None.’
‘Can you stop calling me Richard now and go back to calling me baby, cutie, dickie bird or -preferable- handsome now?’ Dick again asks as he felt a weight lift off of his shoulders and was finally able to breathe again now that his questions could finally be laid to sleep.
You chuckled as you kissed his lip. ‘Sure, whatever you say, handsome.’
Damian is unfazed.
He’s use to his full name being used and he doesn’t exactly feel anything but annoyance that he has to leave the piece he has spent the better half of a week working on, just to answer your call.
Damian loved you without a doubt but he’s not exactly fond of whenever you try to follow along these tasteless ‘trends.’ Though he knows himself well enough to know that he would never stay upset or mad at you for long, you were his weak spot, his treasure forever and always even if this is the things they kept you entertained.
‘I know you’re not saying my full name for any particular reason my treasure.’ He told you rather plainly.
‘And how would you know there isn’t a reason I called for you?’ You replied, crossing your arms over your chest. Damian copied.
‘Because I have a good memory and I haven’t missed any important date, that’s not until next week, that and the fact that I can see the muscles in your face struggling to keep the smile at bay.’ Damian said as he pointed out your biggest sign that you were lying about something.
You always involuntarily smiled when telling a lie the title made it far easier for Damian to know that what you were saying was far from the truth. It was your Achilles heel and Damian knew how to use it to his advantage.
‘I’m not.’ You said, struggling to stop the smile.
‘You are and you’re doing a bad job at it my sweet.’ He replied as he was now the one cockily smiling, knowing he’s got you where he wants you that you couldn’t do anything but crack under his stare.
‘Fine you loser, I only called you in here to say I love you, there happy?’ You asked as you pouted.
Damian walked over to you and pressed a kiss to your forehead. ‘All you had to do is say my treasure.’ Was all he said as he spent the rest of the day with you and Titus.
Jason is immediately in front of you within a heartbeat.
He, much like dick, didn’t like it when you use his full name.
You’re his partner! USE THE CUTE NICKNAMES YOU CHOSE FOR HIM INSTEAD! Who’s this Jason Todd? He only responds to Jaybird, jay jay, or baby with the occasional sweetheart from time to time.
‘Chipmunk, can you please tell me want I did wrong?’ Jason asked as he walked into the kitchen where you called him from.
You furrowed your brows. ‘Wrong? I only called you in here to tell you I love you.’ You replied as Jason started at you for a bit before he pinched your side, making you squeal.
‘You’re a little shit, you know that sweetheart.’ Jason asked as he kept pinching your sides, making you giggle and squeal in his hold. ‘Had me all worked up and everything.’ He adds as he starts biting your neck playfully.
‘I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Have mercy!’ You cried, trying to push yourself away from Jason but it was proven nearly impossible when your man was a literal wall of muscle.
‘’All I can hear as the squeaks of a cheeky little mouse.’ Is all Jason said as he continued to tickle, pinch at your sides. He hates it when you call him his full name, it reminded him of lesser then ideal times, sure it sounded far sweeter and loved when it was coming from you rather than theirs, but he’d much rather you call him anything it his full name.
Tim knows what you’re up to the very moment you use his full name.
His detective brain kicks into hyperdrive and goes into the logical explanation as to why the sudden change.
You’ve never used it before, so why now did you use it unless you had seen a cute trend or something that you thought was hilarious on TikTok, or on another social media platform and wanted to try it out for the sake of following whatever was the thing to do.
That or you were genuinely mad and he should at least go talk to you in hopes of de escalating the situation, should it come to it.
‘I love you.’ You said.
‘You’ve said my full name, lured me out of my room, just to say I love you?’ Tim asked with a raised brow as though his heart wasn’t going nuts once again with how much your words easily affected him.
You paused for a brief moment before smiling. ‘Yeah sounds about right.’
Tim sighs but he couldn’t help but feel a smile creep up on his lips. ‘You’re ridiculous sometimes I swear.’ He says under his breath, ‘you almost had me second guessing myself there but I’m glad this is what you called me out for instead.’ He finished as he pressed his forehead against your own, feeling relaxed and clear minded once more.
‘You may say I’m ridiculous but you love it when I keep you on your toes, it’s like a brain exercise in a way.’ You cheekily told him as you kissed his cheek.
‘You call that a brain exercise?’ Tim said. ‘That was barely a brain activity but more like a brain fart if anything.’ He said as you pouted and smacked his bicep, causing him to smile.
‘We can’t all be smart asses like you drake.’ You said and Tim shrugged as he tugged you close.
‘True but you certainly are a pain in the ass.’ Tim replied, which only made you slap his bicep again as he chuckled and you bury your head into his neck.
#dc imagine#dc x reader#dc x you#dc fanfic#dc fic#dc comics x reader#dc x y/n#dc fanfiction#jason todd imagine#jason todd fluff#jason todd x reader#jason todd imagines#jason todd x y/n#jason todd x you#dick grayson x you#dick grayson imagine#dick grayson imagines#dick grayson x reader#dick grayson fluff#damian wayne x you#damian wayne imagine#damian wayne x reader#damian wayne imagines#damian wayne fluff#tim drake imagines#tim drake x you#tim drake x reader#tim drake imagine#nightwing x you#nightwing fluff
2K notes
·
View notes
Note
Sooo much angstttttttttttt 😭
I need the boys to wake up and do whatever it takes to fix it, please, I can't take the angst 😭😭😭
Does this count as fix-it? 🤔 hope you enjoy, anon! Also this turned out far longer than i thought it would lol
First Part
Another shift slowly happens within the duchy, palpable. The whispers of servants echo louder than ever, growing sharp and cutting in the empty halls you once used to frequent. They still avoid you, but now they wonder and whisper of your health. It’s not just them; the men you’d once hoped you’d at least be on an amicable basis with slowly change as well, the longer your absence haunts the halls and galas.
John is the first to act. It’s hesitant at first, awkward even, as though he can’t figure out how to approach the shattered remains of what he’s ignored for so long. He stands outside your door one evening, his shadow stretching under the flickering candlelight, fist raised to knock. But he doesn’t. Not at first. He falters, as if the weight of his guilt roots him to the spot.
When he finally does knock, it’s tentative, barely audible.
“…Are you awake?” His voice carries a softness you’ve never heard before, but it grates against your numbness.
You don’t answer. Your eyes barely flick towards the door, not moving from where you are curled on your side.
He lingers, sighs, and leaves.
You had intended to let yourself waste away, in all honesty. Only your mother doesn’t let you; she bursts into your room one day, sneers at the miserable sight you make, and insults you to the high heavens. Nothing new, even if her digs hurt, even if she says she isn’t surprised by no one loving you when you are like this, but she forces you to eat some nibbles and then into a shower; she doesn’t care. She is simply tired of having you be an embarrassment and hiding away from the public eye.
Thus, you no longer stay in your room. You don’t bother with jewelry, with heavy gowns or complicated hair styles or even clearing the layer of dust off your furniture, you just leave your room. Thankfully,
Unfortunately, that means passing by the maids and servants. It means passing by them. It means interacting with them again, though no longer initiated by you.
Simon is the second, and less direct. He lingers in places you begin to re-frequent; the library, the gardens, the corridors near your room. He doesn’t speak, just watches from the periphery, eyes heavy and intense. Once, when you brush past him without acknowledging his presence, he mutters something under his breath, his fists clenching at his sides. But he doesn’t try to stop you and you don ask what he said.
He probably didn’t mean you, anyways. You doubt he wants to speak to you, the obstacle.
Johnny falters the most. Though your interactions with him were few, you’d occasionally hear from the servants about how fun he is in general. His smiles, though they’ve never been aimed at you, look quite fake to you, jokes half-hearted and dying on his lips whenever you pass on rare occasions.
One day, he brings a tray of food to your room himself, hoping to coax you into eating with something he’s cooked just for you. You answer the door, see him holding it, and shake your head without a word. Even if it looks delectable, like the dishes John would get.
“Please,” he says, his voice cracking. “I- just try a bit, hen.”
But you close the door before he can say more. He will try again and often, sometimes just leaving the tray, but you never touch it. You’ve lost weight, you know, and the only reason you are getting some nutrients at this point is because you occasionally sneak into the kitchens late at night for tiny snacks to tide you over. If Johnny knows it’s you, he’s never said anything.
Kyle is quieter, yet more present. The guilt eats away at him the most; he knows that his lack of care and respect had a part in the way the rest of the maids and staff treated you. He spends his evenings pacing the hall outside your room, his head bowed, mumbling apologies that you’ll never hear, wondering which one is best.
Once, he catches you in the garden alone, his mouth opening as if to speak, but you pass him without so much as a glance; you already know he won’t care for you have to say or ask for, he’ll just say he is busy, so you just don’t bother.
He stays frozen in place, his hand half-raised, the words stuck in his throat.
The servants, per Kyle and John’s orders, begin to change. Their guilt is slower to manifest, but it’s there and it’s evident in the way they rush to fulfill your needs despite your reluctance. They clean your room with quiet efficiency, no longer treating you like a burden, even though you hadn’t asked it of them. They leave fresh flowers on your desk and vanity, extra blankets on your bed, and freshly pressed gowns in your wardrobe.
You ignore all of it. It’s a waste of everyone’s time snd effort. You aren’t worth it.
Yet despite their heavy guilt, they return to and continue serving you.
But nothing changes the heaviness in your chest, the emptiness that refuses to leave.
One day, closer to the date of the annual winter gala hosted by the emperial family, you step into the dining room unannounced, your presence startling them all. It’s the first time you’ve joined them in weeks. You move slowly, your posture rigid and tired, your expression unreadable.
“Duchess,” John starts, his voice uncertain, rising from his seat.
“…John,” You sit without meeting his eyes, your movements slow and deliberate. The table is silent, the tension suffocating as John, Simon, and Kyle exchange uncertain glances.
John clears his throat. “It’s good to see you, wife.”
You don’t respond.
The meal is awkward, stilted, but it’s necessary for you; you need to get reused to John for your eventual reappearance in high society. Johnny offers you dishes with a hesitant, hopeful look in his eyes, and Kyle pours your wine with an unsteady grip. John and Simon try to start a conversation, but their words falter and fade when you don’t reply.
Still, they try. Over the following weeks, their efforts grow.
John begins carving out time to spend with you, awkwardly hovering near your door, waiting for even a crumb of acknowledgment. He starts leaving small notes for you- apologies and quiet promises to be better. They pile up on your desk, untouched but not thrown away. You want to believe, but you feel jaded and tired.
Simon offers you quiet companionship, instead. Standing at your side in the garden or library, saying nothing but ensuring you’re not alone. He speaks softly when he does talk, a one-sided conversation with only the occasional hum or noise from you, but he’s undeterred.
Johnny keeps cooking for you, leaving trays of food outside your door with little notes attached: Eat a bit, bonnie. Just for me. You don’t eat much, still have very little appetite, but you do start taking bites here and there, and it’s enough to keep him trying.
Kyle offers small acts of service- holding doors open for you, keeping anything you might need available at hanf, ensuring your rooms are kept warm and comfortable. His words are rare, but his actions speak of endless guilt and the quiet hope that he can earn even a sliver of forgiveness.
The maids and butlers follow suit, their movements quieter, their service more thoughtful. They stop muttering, their eyes full of remorse whenever they see you. They bow in respect, and no longer treat you as if you aren’t a part of the duchy.
But you keep them all at arm’s length. Their guilt is evident, their efforts genuine, but the wounds they’ve left on your heart are deep. Forgiveness, if it ever comes, will not be easily earned. For now, you let them try, watching their clumsy attempts with a mixture of numbness and quiet satisfaction (that you do feel guilty over, but truly can’t help).
Several weeks before the gala, John comes to your office. He sits down, and waits until you are finished with your paperwork before he speaks. You are in a beautiful dress- Simon’s gift- and your hair is in a delicate style, done by your maids. You look pretty. You feel nice, even if the numbness remains. These days, it’s less.
“Duchess, I was thinking,” he began, voice soft and patient. “it might do you some good to get away for a while. A change of scenery.”
You turned to look at him, the suggestion pulling you from your numb reverie. His blue eyes searched yours, and for once, there was no coldness, no distance. “Somewhere quiet,” he continued, “where you can rest… away from all of this.”
The idea of leaving the suffocating walls of the manor, and the heavy tension of the duchy was tempting. And yet, you hesitated, unsure if you could trust the gesture or if it was just another attempt to smooth over appearances.
“I’ll take care of everything,” he added quickly, as if sensing your doubt. “You won’t have to worry about a thing. You can choose who you’d like to go with, or even if you want to go alone. It’s entirely up to you, Duchess.”
Johnny and Kyle appeared in the doorway then, Kyle holding a tray with a steaming cup of tea, Johnny with a small, hopeful smile and a plate of your favorite biscuits. Even Simon lingered near the threshold, his gaze steady but tinged with something softer than usual.
They were all waiting for your answer, their expressions almost pleading. You could feel the weight of their guilt and the sincerity of their offer. It wasn’t much- not enough to erase everything that had passed- but it was something. A step forward.
“…I’ll think about it.” you said at last, your voice quiet but firm. And for the first time in a long while, you saw a flicker of relief in their eyes.
#noona.asks#cod x reader#cod#cod x you#tf 141 x reader#tf 141#tf 141 x you#cod imagines#john price x reader#poly!141 x reader#poly 141 x reader#poly!141#poly 141#simon ghost riley x you#simon ghost riley imagines#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost x you#ghost x reader#johnny soap mctavish x you#johnny soap mctavish x reader#soap x you#soap x reader#kyle gaz x you#kyle gaz x reader#kyle gaz garrick x you#kyle gaz garrick x reader#gaz x reader#gaz x you#simon riley x you#simon riley x reader
914 notes
·
View notes
Text
INTERLUDE
m reader x haewon // 9k words
You’ll give credit where it’s due.
If not for her, you wouldn’t be here - and if not for you, she would have quit the logistical side of the show business a long, long time ago.
She's written her own sweet, tragic, but beautiful tale of madness; willing to stay amidst the whirlwinds of shit she’s put herself through, and you can somewhat see as to why.
It’s when she’s let herself into the space of your apartment, hours past of the usual and typical workday. Most of the reasons in this case have their own tales and periods of reflection the next morning - though, a common thread of events that you’ve been accustomed to is the trail of her heels leading a path to the couch, her handbag tossed off to the opposite end, sinking into the cushions. She’s tired, and very unbothered.
You’re doing your own pat down not far from her. A jacket’s tossed onto the nearby chair of your dining table; the usual essentials of your phone, wallet, and one of many pairs of glasses also find their place away from your reach.
“Since when the hell did you snag my keys from me?” You ask, patting down the quartet of pockets to realize the sudden item wasn’t part of the things you rummaged off your body.
“It’s called sleight of hand, dear.” Haewon says, a phone spinning in the air and to a nearby pillow, “That’s what happens when you leave a key with me after our last outing. Have someone to blame? Let that be yourself.”
“I was wondering why you were taking longer getting out of the car.”
“Girls like to take their sweet time.”
“Your point being?”
“My point?” She sits up and leans forward, diverting her attention towards one of the gacha items that you got as a gift from one of her clients - a token of gratitude, for being wonderful with me - you recall the memory for a split second, and Haewon keeps on flipping it around between her fingers. “Don’t get too pressed now. It’s not like you would be locked out of your house for that long. Besides, your landlord’s seen me with you more times than he can count. If I were to ask him for the master key, he’d probably say yes.”
“Speculation,” you breathe, “Honestly, you can try, and I think you could be on his good side for all I know.”
A few wisps of her hair fall far off the side, and she pulls it back with a single finger. Even in the dimmest of lightings, you can still see the small twinge of her nose pulling back, flaring her nostrils. Then she flicks her eyes back toward you, hooking. “You’ve always let me lead the way, and you’re following not far behind.”
You’re tending to the cuffs of your shirt, rolling them up just below the elbows. “I do a whole lot more than just my job.”
“Tch,” Haewon’s got the tip of her tongue on her upper teeth. “You know well enough that it cuts both ways.”
Almost as if this was practiced on cue, these sliding strides you make as Haewon picks herself up from her seat, it’s like two characters taking center stage. The lighting’s barely peeking through for you to see where everything’s leveled. Doesn’t matter how much effort you put into it, Haewon’s frame is the only thing you see, the weight on your shoulders start to droop from the imaginary weight on them. You can probably settle with how the luminating radiance of the night sky showers her porcelain skin or the way her silhouette molds itself in the meshing colors of this cozy dark blue pooling through behind her. There’s also the fleeting realization that this is your space that she’s nestling in. But you can’t ignore the sudden occasional chill that sweeps through every time she walks in - even when it’s after hours, the effect is still in play.
Haewon’s treating another few strands of her hair behind her ear before looking down at the small toy on your table top. “Not a bad idea for you to start a collection going.”
You glance over her shoulder and pull a firm grin across your face. “You know, I was a bit perplexed in why she gave that to me in the first place - after I politely refused so many times.” A shake of your head and a sigh follows instantly after. “But the more I look at it, it’s pretty cute to have. Brings a whole lot of variety in the place right off the bat.”
Haewon dips her head down, hiding a subtle smirk when touches the tips of her socks on the floor. “I know that you fancy your books and everything but, I was happy that you took her gift in the end.”
“Expecting me to just say no?”
“Blind boxes are a life lesson too. People expect one thing and when they don’t get what they want, they’re pretty torn to whether to be happy or not with what they pulled. Now that I think about it, the same lesson can be seen in Forrest Gump when he’s sitting on the bench with the old lady.”
“A lot of people can resonate with Forrest in that moment. Probably because almost everybody’s got something that they didn’t want in the first place, and I’ll take your word for it.” You slide your hands into your pockets, rolling your shoulders back. “Makes people appreciate the many things they have.”
Haewon cocks her head towards her left, bringing it back upright once her body’s facing yours. You’re holding your breath here for a second, swallowing a lump of nervousness down your throat. She’s got it all: the intellect, the beauty, the poise. Each and every single one of those thoughts crosses both ways in your mind, it’s been like that since you got paired with her. The authenticity of her presence doubles down what’s written on paper. Like any fool in this scenario, you carry on, thinking about all of the things you’d never thought you’d do with her - the way she tries to hide the growing blush on her face when your arms hold her, how her eyelids lower their guard when you’re closing the proximity to mere inches, how she sighs with a finger pressed to her temple before whipping some of her hair back - adorable, and perfect. There’s really no other way to describe it, or her; even if she’s not very adamant into accepting the meaningful compliments.
“Maybe you’re right.” Her small frame nestles itself easily at your front and she’s happily dancing her fingers at the pointe end of your necktie, fiddling along with the button beneath it. You’re deluding yourself at the imaginary tug she has on you and she’s barely laid a finger. “Scratch that, I wholeheartedly agree.”
You’d wish that you could make a quick snapshot back to the very time you first unraveled her in your home, on an evening whim just like this. The proposition of pulling up a mental calendar and ripping off the pages backwards to a full two years of working with her. Though, you’re able to automatically deduce the fact of the time you and her actually spent working together - a good portion of those cases in the sheets which is worth considering - but despite all that, there’s a good report to draw up in your head where the times flowed in fluctuations, much like in a spectrogram. Some of the days with her peaked higher than the rest, and others were on the opposite end of the spectrum. That’s just how this rapport- this relationship was.
Haewon never really dabbled with the idea of putting a label on this ‘thing’ you have with her.
It could be a relationship, or maybe it couldn’t. She would always immediately shut down that thought circling around your brain.
A tried and true method in getting your hopes up. And each and every time she shot your heart down. It would send you in limbo for what feels like an endless string of days, the firm tone with her delivery very clear and straight to the point. You can’t help yourself in waiting for something to change; heck, it’s possibly everything you ever wanted with her.
It also didn’t help when the people in your inner circle were already in their own walks of life, blooming into something beautiful with their significant others; while you’re sitting off to the side, watching them from a distance as it feels like with every passing day, you’re falling further and further behind. There isn’t enough space in your journal, let alone the selection of drinks to choose from after being downed, but the feeling remains all the same - it’s a harrowing want to fill that depression oh-so desperately.
“Whatever happened to ‘keeping things professional’?” Dipping your head down as the tip of your nose hovers right above her head, catching the first few whiffs of that oceanic scent used in her shampoo. “Wasn’t it your words exclusively that we would stop what we’re doing now? At this moment?”
This time, you were the one to raise that wall up, hoping that it’ll stick after being broken down so many times.
“Mine?” Haewon blurts out once her hands finally reach to the lines of your shoulders, palms sliding along the fabric of your shirt. “What about it? Don’t try to flip this back on me when we were just talking outside in the staircase and then you decided to push me against the door, perch my chin up and-”
“Haewon.”
“One night. That one night. You-”
“Haewon.” You know that she’s primarily the one who likes to repeat herself at times to get her point across, but not tonight.
She sighs, head falling forward in your chest. “Alright, I’ll bite. Yes, those were my words, and I stand by them. She’s trying her hardest to ignore your overwhelming stature, because she knows your truth; she knows, and knows, and knows.“But that doesn’t mean that what I tell you is enough to sway your mind, nor your choice.”
Her words tell you one thing, but her body welled up against yours tells you another.
“Haewon,” you repeat again, blinking it through. Your voice slightly chokes up when her thumb skates up the line of your jaw, letting her pull get the best of you, breath canvassing the slope where your chin and neck meet. “You’re not helping yourself here.”
“It’s been a long day,” she admits, kissing you foolishly, her fingers slither to the back of your head. Your hands have a mind of their own while it tries to scrounge up what’s left of her melting figure, humming gently into your skin. “You could’ve like- taken me home, or something. Rather than bring me here, because we both know how this story goes.”
“Don’t get all sensical with me now,” you say to her, hand quick to her wrist in an attempt to stop her, but she’s seen that card played before. “You were the one to tell me to get the hell out of the office as fast as we could, and here we are.”
Haewon flashes her eyes at you, narrowing her expression with the simple tilt of her head. “I guess you’re right. Either I call a cab home or have you as my personal driver. Looks like the second option was the best one to pick between the two.”
“You did look tired.”
“Because I am.” Her eyebrows ruffle against each other when you drop the blunt response as she returns to the slacked neck along with her wrists. “After the shitstorm with Bae, and then with Sullyoon? God, don’t even get me started. You were there when everything went down.”
“In fact I was.”
She scowls with a much more dragged out tone with her voice, the stress pressing down on her lips returning to their familiar parted place. “I’m trying so hard to not think about it, but it’s just- ugh.”
“A problem to be dealt with tomorrow,” you tell her, hands bringing her closer to your waist. “Just don’t think.”
“Easy for you to say.” Haewon deadpans, her face shifting flat with dead eyes. “And it’s easier for it to be said than done.”
“Why not do it, then?”
“Huh?”
“I’m asking you to not focus on work for once, genius.”
“This is me not focusing on work,” she says, pouting, “you’re the one who’s not letting me go in the first place.”
You manage to look away for a quick second, closing your eyes to fight back the growing cringe rising on your face. “Says the one who waltzed into my house and arms right now.”
Haewon lets out another dry laugh, resting the side of her face below your collar, pulling down on the slightly untied knot. “Well, I guess I can let you have that over me. I’ll admit that.”
A deep inhale puffs up your chest as you’re carding your fingers into those coffee brown locks of her hair, massaging her temple.
“Consider that to be one of your few wins against my arguments. Why bother tell you my personal thoughts about the details we talked about in the meetings earlier, or even in the office.” She sighs again deeply, burrowing herself into your embrace. “What I would do to give that pretty dumbass a-”
“I’m pretty sure you’ve already said that to her earlier, by the way.”
Haewon looks up again, recalling for a quick second, closing her lips before sounding a simple hum. “Right, I guess I did.”
“You don’t have to handle this all by yourself, you know.”
“What if I want to, hm?” She beams. The flip in her mood is always an anomaly in the way that she’s brushing herself up closer to you. “You know my business - my affairs, but I didn’t tell you all of them.”
You’re well familiar with the playing field she’s setting up here. It’s a battleground that’s seen it all between the two of you, the losses outweighing the victories (and by an overwhelming margin on her end too). She’s always the one to initiate, to set up, your thoughts already getting ahead with the same downward tilt of your head, hands caressing the fabric of her skirt, finding a familiar hold of her hips like one would always do at the start of every slow dance.
Of course you stay silent, blinking. “Well- Haewon, I’ve got no other choice but to hear you ramble all about them, since it’s my job.”
“You know most of them.”
“Like you said: most.”
Haewon rests herself into you, the lines of tape gradually coming undone. The scent of her shampoo hits your nose a little bit harder this time, her palms sliding up across your chest again. She innocently tilts her head up, parting her lips; tiny, rosy, and dangerously inviting. You have no other thought filling your mind but to lift her up and capture her all to yourself.
Her lips are like putty - easy to form and mold into the shape that you like. But you pull yourself back, a last line of defense before her eyes and hands have their own say. “Could you say that this is a choice too?”
“Hm.” She tilts herself upwards into the line of your neck, each quick kiss sending both your heart and mind into echelons higher than cloud nine, melting with every touch until she has your head in between her palms, holding you gently. The blinks she gives are slow, and her breath hitting your face leaves you to your own devices. “What you do with me is always a choice.”
You retreat for a moment, pulling yourself far away where you can, Haewon’s body still within reach in your arms, forming a wall of air between the space of your chest and hers. “I feel like what we do is already risky as it seems, no? Sure, we see each other on a regular basis, deal with what needs to be done with the day, talking to clients, making sure things are right for the events, going back and forth with no definite pause in between.” Didn’t matter if she was out of the country or mere inches away from you, she’s always about work it seems - like that was the only mode programmed in her mind. “More often than not, I’m treating what damage is done which usually ends up with a few bottles of beer and don’t even get me started on how bad of a lightweight you are-”
“Uh, rude.” Haewon pays no attention to you. Her thumb grazes your cheek again, and you can’t help the way that you’re leaning into her touch, once realizing that what you said might be too much. You feel your head being reeled in lower and lower, until you feel the tip of her nose hit the cuff of your ear. “But you’re not wrong, and I’m sorry that you have to put up with me that way.”
Nodding was something that you always used to acknowledge her opinions or thoughts, and it isn’t any different here.
However, your hands are playing a different role: traversing their way into the two small divots below the small of her back, resting just right above her ass. She’s getting herself more and more comfortable, undoing the first three buttons of her shirt, inviting you to dive into the new opening. You keep on gazing into her slightly swollen lips, studying at how quickly her tongue wets the bottom part, and you draw another swift inhale past your teeth before answering, “There’s no need for you to apologize, especially to me.”
Haewon keeps on pulling the undone tie, the knot basically nonexistent the more she pulls down, eventually sliding it out of your collar and onto the floor. She gives it a quick glance when it pools over her feet and yours, and her lapin eyes land on yours again, bottom lip captured between her teeth. “I just feel bad, you know? And part of me thinks that it’s only a matter of time until you’ve had enough and want to-”
You shut her up before she keeps up the self-lament, meshing her lips against yours, wanting her to be persuaded in a different manner - one with less words and more actions.
Drawing back, “You’re not getting rid of me that easily. And even if I ever had the chance to, I’d straight up say no.”
“Look at you, so easygoing.”
“I-”
“At some point,” she breathes, ghosting her face over yours, tugging on that want for you to chase after. “I’d thought you’d give up on forgiving me.”
“For?”
“Anything, really.” Haewon answers admittedly. “Whether it’s here or in the office, you have that same look in your eyes, the one filled with sorrow. It hurt me a bit.”
Maybe right now would be the time to remind her that what she’s thinking is nothing but complete bullshit.
So you lean down again, and pull her close. Another snapshot taken in the back of your mind.
Two years is a long time. Two years of the same routine over and over, of working with her, unwinding after the long hours hidden away from everyone else, watching her work herself down to the bone, doing all of these things as if she’s going to die in the next five seconds if she doesn’t keep going. She’s rising to every occasion that she can, moving so fast that you can’t even bear to keep up with her. You’d admire from a distance, in awe, all while you’re at her right-hand side, unwilling to say anything to her. Obviously when she needed to get her mind off of something, or everything for that matter, she wasn’t the kind of person to be upfront about what she wants and let you read into the signs. Luckily, you’ve always noticed at a glance, and even if she isn’t the one to puff out her lips and kiss you first. No. Never. That’s a luxury that’s reserved for you and only you. Because all it takes is one look into your eyes, and the way she’s broken you down like this, she’s very aware of what your downfall is: her.
All of this is a continuation of a growing culmination, her own personal anthology sprouted from her brain, one which you’ve caught wind of gradually.
When you’re kissing into her again, hard, you start to feel everything around you collapse. It’s in the way that she smiles against your lips, matching every curve you give her - it’s amazing, and you could write poems of all the good things about Haewon - you’re reminded again and again how out of all the moments in the high achieving days and miserable nights, these instances feel just right. She’s drawing air into her nose, grazing your cheek, never wanting to pull each other away; until you’re sucking the oxygen out of each other’s mouths that leaves the both of you suffocating a bit. It’s all foolish, maybe just a bit, and to hell with the consequences awaiting you at the end of the bridge, because she knows that she’ll be in a safe place as long as it’s with you.
The arch in her back rises, and you’re clinging tighter into her smaller frame, shoulder bunching up next to her neck, making it easier for you to hold. You can tell her breaths and hums are getting desperate, her own little mess up the more she melts into you.
You’re not helping her in this situation, and it definitely isn’t the first time you’ve done this to her. She’s hooking her arm well around your neck, the only line of support while you’re taking care of the rest, letting her wrists fall slack as you keep on your loving siege on her lips.
She’s had a rough one this week. A red eye flight back from a fashion week, an entire day of going to ten different locations with one of her top clients, then there’s the whole incident with Bae and Sullyoon back to back. Amongst all of those things, you’d wish that you’d sweep her away for just a second and take her mind off from all the pressures and stress (and you definitely wished you didn’t wait until now to finally do it).
“Mmmm,” Haewon lets her voice rumble in her throat, tightening her grip in the back of your collar, signaling you to pull away. When you do, her eyes pool into yours, shimmering pupils working overtime to map out the lines of your face. You could feel the heat from her cheeks grow warmer. Her eyes cross for a second. She lets her head go crestfallen, pulling this one smile, her simplest smile, the rarest one she could ever have that not a lot of people have had the pleasure of seeing. The gentlest and most genuine one that she could have, it sells the whole thing to you. Despite her tough shell, you realize that she’s one of the rare few that sends your heart flipping, every time she’s got your guard lowered - exactly in the way like this - it’s impossible to ignore the outshining tempts when all of your inhibitions are at their lowest.
Her head goes one side, and then the opposite, “I don’t expect you to forgive me for this.”
Today’s been one of those days. You’re tired, even beyond tired. If she didn’t come with you, the bed would’ve been full by now. Two years of the on and off and the off and on, it’s draining. You don’t say anything, as always. Instead, you swoop down beneath her thighs and carry her, taking her lips all to yourself.
She hums this heavenly noise when you press her against the wall, her legs hooking to a familiar spot where it hasn’t been in a while. Some of the buttons in her shirt come more undone not to your knowledge, but you play the counterpart when tending to the clip and zipper of her skirt. Luckily your body can work in two places at once, returning your focus to Haewon’s face, a sweep of her tongue over your bottom lip.
The pressure to her waist is not too little nor too much, but just the right amount of press when your leg plays this momentary support underneath her legs, helping her slip out of her shirt while she does the same to you. Almost like you’re opening the pages of a book you finished reading, but flipping through to a certain part like the untouched skin of her chest with her simple black bra playing as the final back line of garments waiting to be discarded. She does that part all by herself, indulging on the breadth of her collarbone, forcing her to bite down a soft moan.
Haewon here isn't one to play nice. There’s a bit of a tug-of-war going on with your mouths until you gnaw on her lips a bit too hard, wanting you to do that again the way her face is chasing after yours. But her eyes find their place in line again, gaze softening - you’re cursing at yourself because of how beautiful she looks like this. She’s always been one to have a heart of steel, create that dam covering her fragile trust, her arms wrap you in her embrace, eyes hinting at a sign of concern. The flame in your heart has gone cold, but she’s always been the one fanning the fire back to life.
When you let her down gently, back sliding against the smooth drywall, her arms shift over her head - opening up the area of her midriff to see, to feel. Your palms have never felt anything smoother until they’re slipping the skirt off from her hips, curling over the waistband of her underwear and she fills the open space between your mouths, “fix me up baby, please.”
Most of her solid-colored panties get caught between your knuckles, skating down her thigh - you’re hunting, searching, till you reach that empowering heat between her thighs. You could feel the top part of her forearm press firmly on the nape of your neck while one of her shoulder blades drags itself against the wall behind her.
A drag up, then down across her folds, and she rasps.
You get a finger in, maybe two just to test, feeling her body tense and grasp and hook onto anything within her reach. Little by little, piece by piece, Haewon’s gradually reduced to these mere meeked noises and hums the more your hands and lips begin their grand assault across the fine canvas of her body. The wetness consumes your fingers, and your mouth increasingly gets greedy as you’re nibbling away at the firm mound of her now exposed breasts, her bra gone in one swift move, mind focusing on too many feelings all at once.
Her head lolls up and over, opening up the left side of her neck for you to take, gasping. She can’t stop squirming in place, and you’ll deal with that soon enough. “I love your hands,” she sighs. “God, you sure know how to satisfy a woman.”
Your brain is working on the clock, finding all of the niche places and spots on her body to get her needy for more, and she’s playing spectator, the pad of your tongue swipes upward at the midline of her chest, capturing the hard bud of her nipple between your thumb and index, twisting without a care of her quick pain.
Haewon gets both of her hands around your head, pulling you up from drowning beneath her neck, showering your face with kisses, forehead pressing against yours, “Happy with your reward?”
You’ll give credit where it’s due. You hate how intoxicating she is with the snarky remarks and fast banter, but you love how simple she is to break down - send her mind into a downward spiral. She could let you ruin her life, and it would be the same for you.
It takes a moment too long to consider, your brain is running through the playbook of all the moves and positions you could have her in, which spot in your house would be the most ideal place to simply just bend her over and tear her insides apart until she won’t be able to walk or think straight. A woman like her: clothes pooled and scattered everywhere at her feet, swollen lips and tattered skin just waiting to be ruined.
Haewon knows you well, where all she has to do is say something to snap your attention back to her: “How do you want me?”
She’s selfish, there’s no denying that. Though, she doesn’t really care what you think when she’s kissing you shamelessly once more, smushing and smacking her lips across your face, letting her have her way and to sink into her body again. But here is where she forgets, another callback of the few other times she got too ahead of the curve too soon-
“I think I find you to be prettier when you’re like this,” you tell her, quickly sinking down to your knees moving her thighs over your shoulders; get your face close to that warm, delightful fountain between her thighs when you lift her up from the floor, holding her there.
-to realize that you too, are also selfish in your own accord; at some point, there’s a time to prove who has what between the two of you, and the sigh of acknowledgment slipping out of her lips gives just enough that you’re doing something right.
It all could’ve gone wrong for Haewon at any given point in the time you’ve been working with her. All it took was a few mishaps both in and out of her control and she would’ve snapped. In those dire times of need, she had you. Whether it’d be your mouth or your fingers, the way you settle into these well-practiced strokes of your tongue and cock, and she loves to travel down the little rite of passage when you shut her up with a palm on her mouth or a hand to her throat. She knows that you have your limits, and it’s all in her cards for when she’s able to unshackle you from your common sensibilities. A hand is raked into your hair as you’re shifting your head closer and closer, until your breath starts to blanket her leaking entrance, awaiting for your arrival.
There’s a few mumbles spilling out of her lips when you gently kiss her folds, brush your nose right up against her clit, to where her head bucks forward, giving an unintentional style of wispy bangs the more your mouth starts to scoop up the mess that you’ve created. Her hips buck and jerk, pressing your head deeper into her quivering pussy lips, wanting to get that ache so much faster than intended.
“God, yes baby- right there,” is all she says, and she can barely manage to prop her head upright when you look up from below.
A chuckle leaves your nose, arming a coy smile before you carry on your attention onto her swollen clit, sucking and teasing on it shamelessly until you start to feel the insides of her thighs shake against your ears, digging her nails deep into your scalp.
“Is this what you wanted?” you ask, feeling the pressure of Haewon’s legs crushing your skull from within. “Looks like you’ve been pent up for a while now, no?”
Haewon digs a heel into your back, making you secure the tops of her thighs with your fingers, hitting her head back on the wall. “Among other things.”
“Really.” You reply flatly, giving her another swift lick of your tongue into her aching cunt, her slick pooling across the wet pad. “Because judging how your body’s reacting, you’ve been wanting me badly since the last time.”
“Sounds perfectly right.”
She loses that hefty persona pretty damn quickly when you’re diving into her pussy again, stifling a moan, grinding her hips into your head, wanting you to keep on licking until she’s had enough (spoiler alert: she hasn’t.) “Do tell me more,” you’re telling her, smacking your lips to the heat, “if you’re able to, of course.”
“Seriously. Fuck you.”
“Says the one who’s technically my boss.”
“Not when it’s after hours I’m not.”
“What are you implying?”
Haewon’s eyes squint a bit, trying to keep focus, doubling down on the indulgence of your tongue over her folds. Her face is in a rosy shade of pink, similar to when she’s usually drunk - but this shade however, you’d prefer to see her more in. “Stop pretending to play dumb. I know you can read between the lines here.”
“And what if I want to be oblivious for once? Like in every situation that we’re in while at work?”
“You’re not, ah-”
You’re not giving her any chance to breathe here. She doesn’t deserve it. And when you lather her pussy up in your spit, it’s less than an act of mercy, helplessly whining at the harshful gnawing you’re doing to her poor cunt - it’s what she wants, and she has no one to blame for making you like this but herself.
“If you’re not my boss during these hours, then what are you?” You inquire.
“I’ll be anything but your boss. Is that what you wanted to hear?”
That’s all the confirmation that you needed, forcefully plummeting her down to her inevitable demise. You feel the muscles in her thighs clench in shock from the unexpected anticipation, biting down her shriek the more you dive into the endless depths of her entrance, satisfying that want that you and her so desperately wanted.
“Oh,” Haewon sighs out as some epiphany. But the moment of relief washes over her in no time, her layers folding. Collapsing. Her entire body wiggles in this circular motion. “Oh.”
The heavenly chorus of her mewls fill your ears when you’re cementing your pace, wreaking havoc between her thighs. She’s still got her hand gripping the back of your head, the other flat on the wall. Her stomach bucks and folds at the weight of your tongue, moving your head around in different directions to make sure that you’re hitting every spot with the right approach. The pleasure is building in all of the right places, and you can feel the curl of her toes on your back, ensuring that you’re doing the exact job as her personal toy. “Fuck. Right there, right there.”
It only increases the flood by tenfold. She’s spilling more and more you kiss, swirl, nibble, and tease - doing everything you can to make sure she reaches that unimaginable peak first. “You’re so good. You’re so so good. Baby- don’t stop, oh my god-”
Haewon can’t help herself here, leaning her back deeper into the wall and dragging her hips outward, keeping both legs on your shoulders to the best that she can, unable to let up with the bucks and jolts her hips are making into your face. Every quick rush of air past her teeth only holds so much until she starts to feel her stomach bunch up in knots.
“T-tongue, dear. Oh jesus, you’re so good at- fuck!” she yelps, the tailends of her breaths tattered in these hushed moans, picking up in volume the more you slurp up her pussy to your heart’s content. “Almost, almost.”
You’re well aware of the fact that Haewon is one of the main catalysts when it comes to operating her job. She’s second to none. The standard. The spearhead. She’s got one of the most sizable clientele’s for a reason. But the jaws of work can consume anybody in this climate, no matter how on top or perfect they can be. It would only be a matter of time for the fatigue to get to her - and with the recent events happening around the office, it did just that. Everyone needs a break from time to time, and she’s no different here. A tongue laps up one spot past the clit, there’s a nibble of her swollen folds between your teeth, and here is where you step up to the role of ensuring that Haewon gets her much deserved intermission here.
“Right there, I’m gonna-ah! -umming,” Haewon wails, failing to let up with the oral assault on her quivering cunt, her cries filling up your ears, the muscles of her legs locking your back in place, fingers tugging the roots of your hair. “Cumming. I’m fucking cumming.”
These puppy eyes you do to look up, she gazes down, bottom lip still stuck to her teeth as her expression tears, coming down from her needed stress relief. You stay the course in holding her steady, taking account of the lingering twitches and tensions of muscle her body does.
And not long after, you finally let her down from the wall. Her arms slither around the familiar profiles of your back, lazily planting her lips onto your skin again - Haewon wants another taste of you. It’s also kind of cute how her toes stack up on top of your feet, prompting you to lead the way into the bedroom while she’s closely tethered to you.
“Love it. Love it so much.” Haewon sighs out, half-lidded eyes caught in your vision. “Love it when you make me cum like that.”
It’s one of the few moments where she doesn’t expect a response from you, because it’s already true.
Above everything, you carry on with your steps as Haewon’s lips continue to spell out these hushed curses - all the things that she wants you to do to her - her fantasies, the praises, what she likes you doing and what she wants to do to you with the intent of returning the favor. Her figure is so light in your hands and on your feet, limbs loose enough to bend and twist, a marked up canvas ready for another brush-to-paper moment.
Gravity here does it’s own thing when she falls backward onto the mattress of your room, her arms doing this natural reflex of going above her head, carving up these unbelievable curves in real time to where her back is off the comforters and her left foot is inching up against her inner right thigh. This image alone was enough for you to mindlessly slip out of your pants and underwear, eyes fixed on Haewon rolling her body: belly facing down, back up, her knees dig deep into the sheets, the upper half stretching a bit while her lower half rises up past your thighs, rounding out her hips.
Her knees spread wider across the sheets and her back dips, you think - just a bit, and the look she does over her shoulder is the right amount of lethality. You don’t even flinch when she manages to get her fingers onto the length of your cock, telling you the only thing she wants you to do:
“Take this cock and fuck me.”
You’d follow her words no matter what.
Like a siren’s call out in the sea, the sound of Haewon’s voice comes off as this daring risk where the mind starts to slowly reduce itself around her hand, languidly pumping you to the point where the urge to rip the fun out of her is impossible to ignore.
“I’ve always wondered,” she starts to say.
You lean down to shower a few kisses to her neck, fingers sliding up to her waist, pressing for a firm hold while an airy giggle passes her lips.
“How long have you dealt with me? Being like this?
“Where would I even start?” You hunch over with a trail of kisses down her lower back, cupping the swell of her ass while noting that most of her slick has spread past the underside and to the back of her thighs. “I don’t even remember who made the first move back then.”
Haewon reaches out for one of your pillows, setting it between her arms and chest, “I’m sure it was you, or maybe it was me. Maybe-”
A wistful gasp stops her from talking when you slowly press your cock into her leaking pussy, lips slicked up and inviting between those lovely thighs of hers. You drink in the sight of the grip she has around your length as you continue to ease yourself into her, keeping it together poorly before the heat and her pulse gets to your head.
“Maybe what?” you tell her, attempting to bring back her train of thought from fleeing away.
This girl who’s backside is arched so high up in the air and stomach buried deep into the sheets looks over her shoulder again, eyes filled with tension - a fire blazing beneath the irises. “Maybe- you were just oblivious about the signals I was sending you, but now that we’re here, I guess you can say that you made the curve.”
“I won’t deny anything here-” Everything about this is the reality, anyway. You drag and push yourself into the fluttering heat of her second pair of lips. Her body is so responsive in the wants and needs just from the wetness alone, but she knows that you’re not easy to take. “That was an argument I lost a while ago.”
Your hips flush with Haewon’s and she whines, shoving her face into the pillow set in front of her as she relaxes into the stable pace. A simple yank of her waist back to your thighs serves the only preamble, the quick groan ripped out of your chest, that rush of wanting this tightness and addicting feeling more and more.
“Right?” You’re asking again, meshing her hips with yours, leaning forward and down to the nape of her neck. Sighs joining together in an impromptu chorus, “I’m not denying you winning me over.”
Haewon’s hands here go a bit haywire, shooting up and out. One of them comes to grips with the comforter beneath her. You watch her body move, ass rippling through every pump back into her cunt. “Yeah, but you-”
Her head then dips down into the pillow again, writhing in the twists left and right. You catch yourself hobbling over her upper body once more, lip trapped to your teeth. “You said ‘yeah’. Let’s keep it that way.”
A gradual rhythm gets developed here, taking in every wonderful inch of Haewon’s dripping cunt, shaft picking up more and more slick with ease in every passing stroke. She’s so wonderfully tight around your length, molding to your cock like it’s the missing piece that makes her feel complete, and whole. There’s an attempt to level herself parallel to the mattress, but you don’t give her any kind of luxury whatsoever, pushing down on the small of her back that deepens the arch, nudging your cockhead down further past the threshold of her calefaction.
You’re blinking, you’re believing, and you’re pretty much swearing to the heavens above at the thought out realization that Haewon was meant to be yours - like she was made for only you. She’s in the right position, taking you at just the right angle, all sensibilities hanging on a singular thread. Every hit spills out a quick phrase of pants, watch her struggle in keeping her head upright, a slacking neck in response with the consistent slaps of your hips into hers.
Her slick creates these scattered strings across the skin - not only to the tops of your thighs, but to her ass as well, the sound of her moans bouncing off the walls once they start to rise up a bit in volume.
“Fucking-” and it’s right at this moment, where she sounds relieved, it all comes down with a firm grind of her teeth, “fuck.”
“Yeah?” You hum.
“It’s so-” the blowback of your cock into her cunt becomes a little too much to bear, “it’s so fucking good.”
You’re holding her in place, right at the hips, the unbelievable form of her ass rocking back and forth with every shift of motion caused by you. The low light of your humidifier works its hours on the nightstand, illuminating the comfy and watered colors onto her skin. She’s drenched in this soft honey shade, laying ruin of the pale sheets on her knees and elbows - face gazing to the window, proffering up these listless praises to fill up your head.
The thing is: this isn’t the first time that you and her were like this. There’s an absolute certainty that someone living in either the floors above or below your room has heard everything that’s happened within these walls. Surely someone minding their own business walking along the sidewalk outside has seen Haewon’s gorgeous tits pressed up against the glass, her face full of rapture and pleasure - not having any sense of respect or decency to keep it in the room. You remember railing her poor pussy out on the balcony one time; and that was an issue for the landlord to bring up the following day, but neither you nor her really cared.
What really mattered here, was fucking her brains out. Easy as that.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! Oh my god-”
Every word that’s punctuated out of her lips starts to collapse on top of each other, the impact of your thrusts siphoning the last bits of air trapped in her lungs. She isn’t making her condition any better, suffocating herself deep into the pillow, hoping to drown out the wet noises of her cunt slipping your cock in with refined precision. This choking grip is more dangerous than her hands, her hitched breaths are in no comparison to your labored huffs, slowing your movements with one forceful drive in, a massage of her asscheeks here, another drag and thrust back into her tight cunt, and a playful slap to her ass, tainting the slick skin in red.
“Baby, your fucking cunt,” you hiss. “Jesus christ.”
A whiny ‘mhm-” is all you manage to get out of Haewon, breaking underneath your weight. Her ass is still facing up, face shoved into the pillow, nicking her neck up for air, fucking her down the curve of her spine. “Oh my goodness. You got it so deep. Hit me hard. Please, and I swear to fuck - ngh-”
You’re groaning, increasing the sway of your hips into hers, “So fucking tight.” Haewon’s hands manage to find yours, holding the swell of her ass together, moving her body the opposite direction away from you, meeting the impact down the middle which sends your balls lightly tapping the nub of her clit. She knows that you’ve been working a bit too much for your own sake, so she goes on ahead and has her own fun, fucking herself back onto your cock, the recoil alone enough for you to just freeze on your knees and take it.
“S’that feel good?” she asks innocently.
Spilling out another expletive, you angle your hips up as her ass comes crashing down.
“You’re so hard for me,” Haewon continues, looking over with her body still pressed against the sheets, the left side of her face smiling at the sight of you trying to hold it together. “This cock fits so well inside- jesus, ah- had to let yourself go for a bit, didn’t you?”
“If you keep your hips moving with my hands tied, I’m gonna fucking lose it.”
The plot was already lost from the first dirty thought you had with her.
Her ass keeps your lower half in check, unknowingly moving through muscle memory while the walls of your room continue to reverberate the stuttering breaths and quick curses slipping out of both of your lips. Your hands hold still in tandem with her fingers and start to claw into your palms, pleasure spiking everywhere in her body, skin hot to the touch as the claps start to increase in tempo - the rate shifting to something more desperate, erratic.
“My fucking god, shit!” She wails, her hands shooting down to her ass, spreading herself wider while you lock your eyes at the sight of your cock buried into her cunt becomes a whole lot more clearer now, “Right there baby, holy fuck- this cock is just-” Haewon’s demeanor is diminishing by the second, words and sighs tumbling over in loops, but the pitch in her whines hit a familiar key or tone, gradually crescendoing when she gives up in squirming between your fingers.
“Pound my ass- yes, fuck- this dick is amazing.” Her head swivels up before ducking below into the open cavity of her chest and arms, sucking in her stomach with whatever strength she has left, “Give me more,” she’s panting, head spinning and spinning like a ceiling fan, “Give it to me. I need more-”
There’s not much left for you to take other than the stray tit that’s captured into your hand when you hunch yourself over her again, lift the upper half of her body upwards so that she’s in line with yours, entrapping that heat away from the cool air, trembling. Your mouth is back to her ear again, eyes half-lidded, fingers moving around your neck while the warmth of her cunt starts to burn across your length - the new lane created where your cock slides into her that creates this sequence of events of her convulsing, shuddering, pulling her hips back with a sole purpose to just ruin her. You’re hearing a slight wheeze out of her, maybe a sob too, the head of your cock’s hit a spot past her threshold where it literally makes her go stupid; mind and body into putty, exactly the way you like it.
Her fingers continue to hold tight, cunt clenching around your thick shaft when you’ve finally got her past that edge. There’s a bit of a moment of pause when you and her are stacked on top of each other, exhaustion finally breaking through, coaxing her second orgasm as you’re keeping your cock warm inside of her, feeling her hips spaz out of control while you endure in fucking her poor, spent, pretty pussy. Both heels of her feet bend towards the backside of your thighs, pressing her waist into the mattress, sliding yourself out the tightness before teasing her with the half of your shaft.
“There we go, Haewon. I’ve got you,” you’re telling her. The tone of your voice drowned out by the keening shattering through. “You’re perfect. Cum over this cock, baby. You deserved it.”
She keeps on sighing when she comes down from her second high, summoning this lazy grin while you’re peppering her face with kisses, an indication for a job well done. But she taps the top of your hand twice, resting at the crease of her hips - and the shimmy of her hips still embedded with your cock tells you only one thing:
“I wanna make you cum.”
The insanity this woman has. It does something to you.
So you waste no time at all. It’s enormously more than just a mess with how fucked up she is.
When you give her what she needs: flipping on her back was the way to go, yanking her hips back into yours until you see her eyes go wide at the sudden stroke before rolling up behind her head and past her eyelids - everything starts to fall into place with the way the back of her ankles hold your waist, which only leaves you with the sole choice of pounding her so fucking hard that you’d have to hook yourself into the arch of her back where she’ll have no where to go - it’s a position well practiced, your ol’ reliable: firing your cock on all cylinders at a pace so inhuman until she’s able to look you in the eyes and cast a spell for you to finish on her pretty face and leave her there with the damage when it’s all said and done - the assurance that you’ll give her what she wants and have you craving for more - kissing you shamelessly like she’ll be stoned to a rock come the next day, and when you’re feeling the pit of your stomach open more and more, the muscles in your hips and legs moving and tensing in the midst of this sex-filled frenzy, there was only one instinct in your mind where it didn’t take much to pump and dump your load inside her.
You can feel yourself getting close, head dizzying. “Haewon-”
“I know, handsome boy,” she praises, pulling you so that your forehead touches hers, “can feel you throbbing down there.”
She lets out this airy laugh when you wince a bit, hands reined at the small of her back and bringing her waist in, the impact of your cock rebounds her body once the pace starts to decrease.
“Fill me up, like you always do,” Haewon husks, voice barely a whisper in contrast to your hoarseness, “Put a baby in me.”
There’s this sort of tension in the air along with your body, driving your cock deep into her, burying your cum into the crevices of her pulsing hotness. Haewon lets out a sigh of relief, telling you to keep cumming inside of her, feeling every hot thread of your release coating her slopped walls.
You can feel yourself get light-headed - the warmth alone, not to mention how wet and tight her pussy is still, a place where everything feels right - but the lust filled in your head starts to fade, blackened vision returning to normal; and before you know it, you’re coming back to earth.
Neither of you move a muscle. Instead, you lay there for a bit, taking in the dwindling time of exploring each other’s bodies, holding yourselves together while your lips are conducting one final battle for that last dominance, the stench of sex and sweat still fresh and out to the open air.
Haewon manages to wrap both of her arms around your neck, kissing the slope of her neck and collarbone, scratching the back of your head, looking up to the ceiling with a lazy smile, one plastered with satisfaction. She taps your shoulder to grab your attention, but all you could come up with was a simple hum, which seemed to be enough for her.
“Go get me some lemons and water. I owe you a special something and a ride.”
–
Morning rolls around not long after, and assessing the lay of the land of your living space with one eye open. Everything seems to be in their place, tv remotes, work bag next to the neighboring desk, and the singular cup on the counter next to the fridge. Another thing to note, Haewon already got a jump start to the day.
You’re sliding across the floor with said singular cup being put into the kitchen sink, but with the other eye open now, you notice something at the corner of the kitchen island: a small box left open.
“I wonder what she has for me this time,” you say to yourself, examining the box which turned out to be a contraceptive tablet. A note also slips out with a card attached.
“Take today off. I’ll be coming over later. By the way, I hope you won’t get mad at me for snatching your little gift from Jiwoo. It was too cute for you to have sitting on your nightstand or coffee table, so I took it for myself.
p.s
Don’t worry about last night so much. I had everything thought out since our little ‘accident’ the first time. Can’t really say the same thing with what I said, but you can choose to ignore it…or not ;’)
- Haewon
xo <3”
The attached card flipped over showed the name of the gacha toy gifted to you. A justified reaction of sighing with rolled eyes and the shake of your head was pretty much the start of some days; but hey, at least the breaks are enjoyable.
“Sleight of hand my ass,” you mutter, thumbing the small slip of paper in your fingers, “she stole that from me.”
-
a/n: sending my special flowers to @majorblinks (i love you foreverrr <3), @passingnotions (for happily agreeing to poke around wherever in the draft), and @yieldtotemptation (to opening the floodgates with ur bae fic).
thank you for reading and wemo check. :3
804 notes
·
View notes
Text
𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐛𝐨𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞
꒦꒷‧₊ Content Mr. Crawling x gender!neutral!reader, fluff ꒦꒷‧₊ Note 800 words. I wrote this just now, I wasn't planning on writing for him so soon but I couldn't help myself. I hope those of you that know of him enjoy it. ♡
It all started at those stupid abandoned apartments. Your friends dared you to go in, and for some reason you did it. Sure it was spooky inside but there really wasn't any threat. Only when you got lost and wandered around the building for hours, trying to find an exit.
While you were in the building you felt like someone was watching you. Occasionally spotting a shadow moving out of the corner of your eye, or hearing the sound of something shuffling on the floor.
However, even after you left the building, you still felt like someone was watching you—every second of every day. This feeling was stronger while you were at home, but it would linger out in public, too.
It was strongest though when you were trying to go to sleep. In your bedroom, with the lights off, and no sound but the night outside your window. You tried to ignore it, not let it get to you, but you'd be lying if you said it hadn't kept you awake most nights. Only falling asleep when your fatigue was too much to ignore.
And tonight was no different. You lay in your bed desperately trying to get some rest but the feeling of someone else in your room keeps you awake.
“You okay?” a strange voice calls to you from the darkness. You have no idea what it said but you're certain you couldn't have imagined the sound.
You shoot up from your bed to see where the sound came from, but you don't see anyone.
“H-Hello?” you mutter in a shaky voice.
Suddenly a head pops up from beside your bed, “Hello!” A high-pitched giggle emits from the creature's mouth, a sound that doesn't match its appearance.
The head rises, and it grips the side of your bed with cold-looking hands. Pulling itself onto the bed with its arms instead of standing up and climbing on normally.
You scream at the sight, instinctively backing away.
The creature frowns, “You scared?” it says as it retreats slightly, “Me sorry.” It has an apologetic tone in its voice, but it's speaking some kind of language you're unable to understand.
It doesn't come closer, staying at a distance so as to not startle you further. As the panic slowly subsides, you take a closer look at the creature.
It looks like a man, but his hair is extremely long. Stark black and has a silky straight texture - hanging in front of his face and covering his eyes. Though you can see blood on his skin where it looks like his eyes should be. His skin is pale grey, and void of any warmth. And his clothes, though hard to see since he hasn't stood yet, appear to be a tattered black Yukata perhaps?
He stares back at you with a wide grin. It's that smile that makes him look creepy and inhuman. Though not entirely unfriendly.
“Wh-who are you?” you whimper, “What do you want?”
He tilts his head to the side like a curious puppy. It seems like he doesn't understand what you're saying.
“Me not hurt you,” he smiles, reaching out his hand to pat your head.
You flinch at his touch, not sure what he just said or what his intentions are. Though he doesn't seem malicious. He may look scary but he hasn't shown any hostility when he's certainly had the opportunity to.
“Um,” you try to think of what to say to him, “Are you the one that's been watching me?”
“...?” he tilts his head again.
“N-Never mind,” you smile awkwardly, “Erm, I'm going to go to sleep, ok? You can sleep on the couch if you want to stay…”
You put your hands together and make a sleeping motion on your pillow, trying to tell him you want to sleep.
“Rest?” he looks at the pillow then back to you, “Alright. We rest!”
With a smile he lays his head on the pillow next to yours, looking at you expectantly.
“N-No! I mean - you can sleep on the couch, not in my bed!”
He just smiles, your words going in one ear and out the other.
“Ok, fine,” you sigh and lay down beside him, “You can sleep here I guess…”
You try to sleep, but you can feel him staring at you. And when you open your eyes to see that wide smile of his, it doesn't help. So you turn around, facing your back to him. “G-Goodnight,” you mutter.
“You rest bed… Me rest bed,” he mumbles, “Me grateful.”
You don't know what he just said, but for some reason, you feel safer with him by your side. Who or what he is is still a mystery. For all you know, this could just be another dream.
But a part of you really hopes that it isn't…
#mr. crawling#mr crawling#homicipher#homicipher x reader#mr. crawling x reader#mr crawling x reader#文字化化
819 notes
·
View notes
Text
Synopsis: After losing so much, Spider-woman learns to just keep moving. Only for her to end up somewhere far from home. Her first agenda is figuring out where she is, and how to get back. The only problem is that she ended up somewhere fictional (to her). Playing hero with Batman was not in her bingo cards this year. Hopefully she will be able to make it back home before she catches unwanted attention.
Masterlist: Prev; Next;
Chapter 1 - Home Sick
Okay, let’s start this from the top. Once upon a time and all that shit.
You had somehow, some way, ended up stranded in another universe when you were going toe-to-toe with the Spot that (unfortunately) Mile’s apparently created (unintentionally). Got it? Good.
Now the question is how you got stranded in another universe while fighting the Spot is another shebang that you do not know, and frankly, not your top priority as of right now.
Your mission is finding a way to power your web-watch (no offense but the gizmo name sucks), and either use it to find Miguel, the spider-society, or your very own earth. You honestly weren’t choosy on which option you land, as long as you safely made it out alive and unscathed.
Speaking of unscathed, which in fact you are not, you quietly swung across many buildings, in the shadows, making sure you were hard to spot. Your dark spider suit being perfect for night patrol is a blessing for the camouflage it provides you in this god forsaken gloomy city.
Now, to get back on track, it took you an embarrassing amount of time to process that you have basically been thrown into a world where in your universe is all but fiction.
Have you kept up with the comics?
No, of course not. After Aunt May’s passing, you honestly gave up everything and just solely dedicated yourself into fighting crime. Well, you know some things, since Peter was also a mega comic nerd.
He would go on for hours and hours and hours about Batman and his kids (adopted and biological) and whatnot. You didn’t mind, since spending time with a talkative Peter was better than being in your own headspace. If you recall the latest one to come under Batman’s wing was someone named Duke? Well, that’s as far as you remember.
Regardless, now you're looting someone’s clothing wire. Picking out a thick gray turtleneck and black leggings (thank god) you don them over your suit, making sure nothing was visible. Now the issue is your footwear. Maybe you can get away with it?
Taking off the mask you were able to stuff it inside your bra (extra pocket, am I right?) while your gloves were hidden among your sleeves. Making sure nothing was out of place you pulled out the wallets of the two petty criminals, counting the money.
“Four-fifty, not bad.” Though you don’t condone your actions, you are in a precarious situation at the moment. Oh well. Tossing one of the wallets away (making sure not to touch it with your fingers), you also placed it inside your bra for safe keeping.
Maybe this would be enough for a motel? How expensive- or cheap are those in Gotham? With how often crimes occur, it shouldn’t be that expensive, right? Regardless, first things first, find a place to eat, find out the date and then a place to stay. Shouldn't be too hard.
Quietly climbing down the side of a complex building, you made sure the coast was clear before heading out. The lack of a jacket made you feel very vulnerable and exposed. Head down and hands to your sides, the cool breeze of the city causes shivers down your spine. “This fucking sucks.” you mumbled, making sure to avoid gothamites as much as possible.
No time to gawk at your environment when you’re so out of place. You honestly just kept walking around, hearing police sirens and the occasional cop car driving by while you try to not lose your goddamn mind.
Walking around, using back streets and alleys you shiver as the cold nips at your face. It’s not that you’re sensitive to cold, it’s just that you can’t afford to get sick here. In a world where you don’t exist.
“Wait a minute…” thinking back on something, it’s true that you don’t exist here. But that doesn’t mean that a you- doesn’t exist. Maybe somehow there is a version of you or spider-woman here. A far reach but hey, just hours ago, this was all fictional to you. But something worth looking into.
With a heavy sigh you walk inside an alley, looking up to gauge the time to see- oh, what’s that? Another clothing line! And guess what? It has more clothes to loot! Score! Don’t mind if I do! Finders keepers baby!
And you thought your spider luck was ass.
Discreetly looking around to see for any cameras that can potentially identify you only to come out flat. Perfect. Using the fire escape you parkour to snag a black oversized zip up sweater.
This would be perfect in covering you even further (and now you have pockets for your mask) and making your figure harder to identify. Now you can start acting like a true gothamite.
With a pep in your step, you exit the alleyway.
Spotting a diner up ahead, settling yourself inside you order your drink of choice and a bagel just to have something to entertain yourself while you calm your nerves.
Sitting down next to a window, taking slow sips and bites from your meal you subtly look around (making a point of subtly ignoring the gaze of the cashier). It seems to be late afternoon, heading to night. Not good, not good at all.
Besides finding a place to stay, you glance at your wrist, the web watch looking pretty obvious and suspicious out there in the open on your wrist. But, without it, you could perish in this foreign world. Should you pull a Hobie Brown and create a new watch from scratch? No, you don’t have the time, tools, or luxury. Thank god for the hoodie covering it up.
Right now, staying on task is essential. A job, maybe? With what credentials? Hell, you don’t even have an ID. Maybe a fake one? Who would do such a thing for a reasonable price and isn’t a criminal? Another note, you need supplies, enough to build web shooters and the cartridge. Unlike other spiders, you had the ability to shoot webs from your wrist, gross. But (with Peter’s intellect) you ended up also creating webs on your own in case yours fails. And it has- a lot both in comical and crucial times. Peter wouldn’t let you live anything down (god you miss him).
And being in a new world and everything going on, the last thing you need is a web block because of the high anxiety and stress this place is already giving you. You’d rather be safe than sorry. Now, how to get supplies? Stealing them seems easier than working for it. You just don’t have the time. How were you going to steal them, and from where? Who the fuck knows. Probably from a college science room or something.
In order to do even that, you need to find out the layout and what not of this place. So maybe the best place to start is the library? Doesn’t someone from Batman’s little possie work at the library? Can you risk that? Probably.
Fuck, this was going to be harder than it looks. No phone, basically no money (not counting the one you stole from criminals), no ID (or insurance), no place to stay, no allies, ya got nothing. Zip, zero, nada.
You feel so lost and alone, so vulnerable. And the thoughts in your head are slowly getting louder and louder. Eating away at your insecurities and feelings. God, you’re starting to get homesick. Will you make it back? Will you find a way back home? Is anyone even looking for you?
Last thing you recall was fighting the Spot with Miles, Hobie, Gwen and Pavitr. You remember hopping onto Spot’s back while he was absorbing but then he poof and you along with him. Everything went black for you and then you landed here in this city (ungracefully might I add).
You just want to go home…even if it’s lonely without Uncle Ben, Aunt May and Peter Parker.
You really have nothing, rock bottom, baby. But then again, the only place to go is up, right?
Sighing you finished your drink and bagel before leaving the diner, making sure to look at the clock above the exit, and aimlessly walking around. Would they let you in one of those shelters? Are those even a thing? Probably, maybe.
Couldn’t hurt to try. Buuuuut, then again, you need the privacy, so maybe the shelter was a no go. Okay, perfect, back to square fucking zero. A cheap and possibly dangerous motel it is!
Hopefully your spider luck doesn’t fuck you over. You’re honestly thankful for not coming across any batsonas and whatnot. And you were able to get clothes so you say you’re two for two.
After looking around for some time, emphasis on some, you managed to find a motel and get yourself settled. No ID required, just cash, and you internally sobbed at the remaining funds you had left. You really will need a job or a sustainable income.
“Are underground rings still a thing? Is it a thing here?” You mumbled, discarding your stolen clothes before fiddling with your watch until its screen flashes before abruptly turning dark again. “Well now, how fucked am I?” A deep sigh resonated in the empty room. Hopefully while it turned on, Miguel would somehow by some god given miracle (or your spider luck but don’t bank on it) that he received at least a signal, no matter how microscopic it is.
You had to get home. At all costs. This place isn’t your home. It’s not like you should play by the rules. But, Ben, May, and Peter would be so disappointed in you if you break laws just to return to your home universe. And if you’re being truthful, it wouldn’t sit right with you either…
But Miles needs you.
If this world doesn’t have a- you in it, then you aren’t needed here. So you shouldn’t waste time twiddling your thumbs. Maybe you really do need to break into a computer lab to see what’s up with your watch or scavenge for parts. Hobie built it with parts from Miguel’s earth. Meaning, you can too, with whatever scraps you can find.
You’ll prioritize your watch first, then this city. It’s unfortunate, but you really have to get back home, and you can’t let your feelings get in the way and distract you.
Maybe you should call it a night? Figure things out in the morning? A yawn takes over your thoughts. “Yea, sleep sounds really good right now.”
These problems are for tomorrow’s you. For now, you’ll catch some Zzz’s and flesh out a detailed plan on how to get back home.
You’re banking on hacking a computer at the library despite the risks. Shooting a web at the door to prevent any possible and/or unwanted inconveniences because let’s be honest, trust no one but yourself, especially in this bat(ha)shit crazy world, better to be safe than sorry. You need your sanity to fix or at least charge your watch in order to get back home.
“Ben, May, Peter- give me strength.” and into dreamland you go.
-
“Hey B, come look at this.” A female voice spoke out, catching the attention of the adult in the cave. “I got something to show you. I got a trace of a disruption- but it happened quickly and only once.”
“Where.” A gruff and stern voice asked.
“Around the East End.”
“I’ll let Selina know.”
“Should I get someone to look into it?”
“No, I’ll do it myself.”
With that, silence once again enveloped the Bat cave as Batman stepped out.
Prev; Next;
I'll be honest, I have no outline of where I want this story to go, this is just brainrot hour for me. Less go. A very high chance this will soon turn into somewhat of "yandere" but it's mostly just them being "possessive" honestly. Slooow burn. This was the last thing i had typed up, and I have no clue where I will drive this story, oops.
#batfamily x reader#batfam x reader#dc x reader#series;wb#series; web bound#Dick Grayson x reader#tim drake x reader#jason todd x reader#damian wayne x reader#barbara gordon x reader#cassandra cain x reader#stephanie brown x reader#duke thomas x reader#nightwing x reader#red hood x reader#red robin x reader#robin x reader#spoiler x reader#orphan x reader#oracle x reader#jon kent x reader#jonathan kent x reader
591 notes
·
View notes
Text
The VIP Booth | Vander Smut Oneshot 🫗🤎
(Gif creds: me <3)
Pairings: Husband!Vander x Wife!Reader
Pronouns: Fem!Pronouns
Rating: NSFW, 18+, MDNI !! You WILL be blocked! 🤺
Word Count: 3.1k (whoops. got carried away with storybuilding)
Tags: Cunnilingus, Fingering, Face Fucking, Finger Sucking, Hair Pulling, Semi-Public Sexual Acts, Established Relationship, etc.
Summary: You coax your husband into eating you out in the only private area The Last Drop has to offer.
Notes: AAAA!! Idk if this idea is ANY GOOD but it came to me in a moment of delusion. The last bit was probably a little rushed, too. SORRYYYY. I’ll make it up to yall later.
Also, tell me I’m wrong when I say that Vander will go to any length to eat some pussy. Do it, cowards. I dare you. YOU KNOW JUST AS WELL AS I DO THAT THIS MAN WOULD HAPPILY DIE WITH HIS FACE IN BETWEEN A PAIR OF THIGHS.
Asks/Request fics are coming soon, as well as a few more special treats for y’all!! Enjoy, my lovelies, & stay tuned. 🤍
(I can see you, minors!! Get outta here 🤺🤺. BACK! BACK, I SAY!)
Inside the walls of The Last Drop, there was one booth unlike any other—a private, exclusive spot tucked away behind the bustling central room. It was a booth reserved for those willing to pay for top-tier service, offering a secluded escape from the usual chaos of the bar’s environment. But as co-owner of The Last Drop—and wife to the main owner—you didn’t need to fork out any cash to reserve it. Especially not on a night like this. No—tonight, luck was on your side. The booth had gone unclaimed by any paying customer.
Truthfully, the undeniably significant feature were its curtains. The enormous maroon tapestries that enveloped the entrance ensured complete privacy, shielding it from prying eyes. After all, that’s what made it the VIP booth—an oasis of solitude amidst the drunken chaos of the crowd.
With the booth left unreserved, its privacy ensuring a rare moment of seclusion, and the crowd blissfully distracted by their own drunken revelry, the opportunity was simply too perfect to pass up. You had concocted a devilish plan—one that had been simmering in your mind all night. It wasn’t just about messing with your husband—it was about messing around with him.
Your overwhelming desire for your husband was impossible to ignore on any given day, but tonight, it seemed even more intense—an insatiable hunger that gnawed at you, its cause elusive and beyond your comprehension. Whatever the reason, it gripped you with a force you couldn't obstruct, leaving you restless and consumed by pure unadulterated lust.
This, naturally, allowed your plan to unfold effortlessly, as if guided by an invisible hand, bringing it closer to fruition.
To carry out your devious plan, you had carefully cultivated the trust of one of the few individuals who worked for you and Vander. They weren’t exactly employees in the traditional sense, but rather a handful of people you kept on the fringes, offering a few coins in exchange for their occasional assistance. Their loyalty was fleeting, bought with small tokens, but it was enough to serve your purpose. Especially in a moment such as this. A seemingly crucial one—at that.
You kept things vague, framing your request as though it were purely concerning a business discussion needing to be had. You asked your employee to discreetly inform your husband that someone was calling him from behind the velvet curtains of the VIP booth. You also made it clear that the employee should mirror your discretion, avoiding any mention of your name or your connection to him.
The employee appeared curious, even somewhat uneasy, at first. That was, however, prior to you slipping a generous cash bonus their way, eliciting their cooperation without room for protest.
"Go on, please," you plead with your unsuspecting employee, your voice laced with a blend of urgency and excitement. "But remember—don’t tell him it’s me."
As the employee slips into the bustling crowd, you struggle to contain the surge of excitement building within you, all while fighting to maintain a sultry—yet composed, demeanor. You adjust your hair, breasts, and clothing, making subtle moves to enhance your allure and mystery. Every gesture is deliberate, designed to keep you as collected and captivating as possible, cultivating an air of intrigue about you as you desperately await the arrival of your beloved husband.
They fulfilled your agreement as you waited—approaching their boss and informing him that someone had entered the VIP booth, insisting on speaking with him directly.
"VIP booth? Thought nobody booked it tonight," Vander remarks, raising an eyebrow and crossing his arms over his chest as he takes a moment to process the information. Normally, you were the one who handled the VIP booth, and he’d have gladly passed this task off to you—if the employee hadn’t mentioned that the VIP “customer” specifically requested Vander. Looks like he’d have to put on a more hospitable facade and give them what they wanted.
If only he knew just what this "customer" truly wanted from him.
After a series of grunts, groans, and huffs, Vander finally made his way to the booth. After forcing a welcoming smile onto his face, he slowly pushed aside the curtains.
"Sorry for the wait. You wanted to speak to the owner—"
His voice faltered, trailing off faster than it had taken him to summon the words.
You feel your own response threaten to catch in your throat, but you won’t cave. You abandon your nerves.
"Why yes, I did. Although..." you drawl, your tone laced with playful mischief, "...'speak' isn’t exactly at the top of the list of things I want to do to the owner."
Your sultry gaze locks onto his, deliciously teasing. Vander, already an imposing figure, looms even larger from your vantage point in the booth. Seated as you are, you find yourself craning your neck significantly just to meet his eyes, the angle only amplifying his commanding presence.
A slew of unidentifiable emotions cross his face in a mere flash before fading into a singularly—equally mischievous to yours—-expression.
“Well. Seein’ as how you are the VIP patron of the night, how can I oblige you?” He queries, his eyebrow raising once more.
Your heart stutters beneath your breast as his expression shifts, his eyes darkening with a lust-filled intensity that sends a shiver through you. The chemistry between you two never failing to baffle you.
"...Serve me," you murmur, your voice soft yet determined to keep the air thick with seduction.
"And what, if I may be so bold to ask, can I serve you with?" he inquires, his voice dipping low, the provocative edge in his gaze unwavering.
"Your body." you quip, your voice steady despite the flutter of nerves stirring in your gut, desperate to make it quiver.
Vander eyes you carefully for a moment, savoring the way your confidence wavers. He deliberately toys with the knowledge of how easily he can unsettle you, his gaze lingering as if relishing every flicker of hesitation you try to hide. A smirk slowly spreads across his mouth—the very one you ached for—his eyes glinting with an all-knowing, deviously sexy twinge. He nods softly, his hand rising to casually caress his beard as he watches you, the tension thick in the air.
“Mmhmm. I see," he murmurs, his tone laced with teasing amusement. "Who am I, if not a man willing to care for his loyal customers?" He phrases simply, the words carrying a heavy, unspoken promise before he moves, gracefully lowering himself to his knees across from you. There’s a moment of silence, the air thick with anticipation, before he slowly begins to push himself beneath the table that had kept you both apart.
You don’t dare look beneath the table, almost afraid to meet his gaze at this moment, unsure of what you might see on his face now that the situation has shifted. The tension coils tighter, each passing second amplifying the anticipation that overwhelmed your senses.
You practically jump at the brush of his shoulders against your shins as he crawls to them, the rush of anticipation making every nerve in your body jolt. The aching desperation pulling through you draws attention to your core as you feel his strong hands gently caress your legs, the heat of his touch settling on your knees, sending a shiver through you. The way your teeth begin to tug at your bottom lip seemed like the only way you could physically process your eagerness.
Vander remains silent, his hands moving deliberately in opposite directions, the gesture designed to spread your legs—yet he did so with enough force to split you down the middle if he hadn’t been careful enough. It isn’t until he successfully parts them that he speaks again.
“No bottoms? My. What a dirty girl you are, my dear customer. What if someone else had walked in here, hmm? Did you plan on flashing your bits to any bloke who popped his head in?” He teases, practically groaning some of his words, the guttural tone an unintentional yet instinctual reaction to the sight of you so bare—-so clearly prepared for whatever scenario it was you anticipated happening in this little corner of the establishment.
It was obvious to your husband, from the way you were reacting, that the possibility of him crawling under the table to bury his face between your thighs hadn’t even crossed your mind. The surprise and hesitation in your twitches and subtle movements told him everything he needed to know.
The distant, familiar chatter of real customers beyond the thin barrier tightened the knot in your stomach, throwing you into the reality of the moment. It became an unrelenting presence, grounding you in the tension that hung in the air. Meanwhile, the hot, damp breath of your husband seethed against the cold slickness seeping from your cunt, a stark contrast that deepened the unease coursing through you.
A shiver ran up your spine, your body trembling as nervous spasms raked through your bones when he edged even closer—his hair grazing your skin in that familiar way you knew so well. It wasn’t uncommon for your husband to spend most of his time down here, yet no matter how often it happened, the anxiety it stirred within you never waned.
You had an even harder time controlling how your body writhed as you felt the warmth of his tongue flush itself against your sopping heat. Your nails pressed into the soft wood of the table, digging in as you braced yourself, your body jerking. The spasms faltered for a moment, your body going rigid once he started violently lapping his tongue against your aching clit. The abrasing way his beard rubbed against the skin of your thighs sent you into a spiral.
You had expected him to fuck you directly on the table, to take you in the way you were used to—but instead, he toyed with you from beneath it, the unanticipated choice leaving you bewildered. You had been aching for what felt like ages, the desperation almost unbearable. It was a struggle to keep your mouth from parting—your head tilting back, eyes closing as your husband began to ease the tension that had gripped you for so long.
All you wanted was to whimper, to cry out for him, but you couldn’t—not with the patrons so close, just beyond the curtains. If he had only fucked you as you’d expected, he would’ve easily pressed a hand over your mouth to keep you quiet, as he had in similar situations before. But this time, you knew he had chosen this path deliberately, testing whether you could hold your composure.
It was his unspoken way of making you atone for the ploy you used to get him here. He was a patient lover, understanding that even though you had pulled him away from his work—which he didn’t mind as much as he let on—you were just too eager to be patient. Always attuned to your needs, he was more than willing to satisfy the cravings of his most cherished wife, finding joy in fulfilling your desires—no matter the time or place. The absence of his familiar presence behind the bar, and the slight potential for upsetting customers, felt like a small price to pay in exchange for the chance to fully indulge in you. To unravel and claim you in ways only he could.
His tongue was relentless. He sloppily sucked and licked at your needy clit, his nose rubbing against the mound of flesh above as he devoured you. His hands were as equally hungry as his mouth, and in need of something to grab. He manhandles your legs, draping them roughly over his shoulders, his fingers gripping at your plush thighs as he curls his arms around them. In doing so, he pulled you closer, your back slipping against the booth as he guided you down, drawing you nearer to him with a purposeful force. His cock was begging to be set free from its cloth prison as he sunk his tongue deep into the void of your cunt. The rhythmic, wet sounds became a melody more captivating than any song he'd ever heard, especially when paired with the soft mewls of you struggling to stay collected—and most importantly—silent.
You can both hear and feel his laugh against you, a deep, low chuckle that carries a mix of arousal and amusement, vibrating through you with every huff. He found the way he could make you squirm incredibly sexy, the reaction sparking a deep sense of pride within him. There was something about the ease with which he could unsettle you that thrilled him, and he took great satisfaction in knowing how little effort it took. He knew all too well that it only took something as simple as a certain look to have you coming undone—and right now, he was determined to make you come undone. All over his tongue.
Vander knows just how wild his fingers can make you on their own— yet especially so when paired with the mastery of his expertly quick and thoughtful tongue.
He wasted no time in combining the two, intent on making you crack under the pressure. While Vander didn’t particularly want to be caught by patrons, either—or, for that matter, by one of your employees—his desire to make you scream was always his top priority.
He grips your thighs with more gusto than before, continuing to pull them further apart in hopes of expanding his ‘workspace’. He releases one of them, the fingers of that hand moving to replace the tongue that was working its familiar magic inside you. He doesn’t give you so much as a single moment to collect your thoughts as he makes the exchange, effortlessly ramming and curling two up into your cunt as his tongue continues its prior attack on your clit.
You swore you were seeing stars behind your eyelids, your grip on the table faltering just like your efforts to stay in control. You couldn't even attempt to cover your mouth, not with the relentless—yet unintentional—way your hands found their way under the table, tangling in his hair and gripping with enough force to pull some strands loose.
You greedily buck your hips down to meet the thrusting of his digits, pulling his head as far into your cunt as possible. He doesn’t complain. He never would. Maybe it was his own type of preferred masochism, but he’d consider suffocating and perishing in between your legs in this way, a noble death.
Your toes ache from the force with which you’re curling them, your legs clutching and winding around his shoulders and neck like a python.
By now, you had abandoned all caution, hope, and effort to moan quietly. You were practically screaming over the deliciously knowing way he prodded his thick fingers into your cunt. He had long forgotten to move them in and out. He knew exactly what spot drove you mad, and he made his most conscious effort to curl them into it as rapidly and frequently as possible.
As much as Vander adored your cries, they were truly becoming far too loud. He really didn’t want any curious folks to come wandering in to spoil the moment when you were so close to your inevitable peak. He has no choice but to silence you. With the hand that remained on your other thigh, he removed it from its resting place, reaching up from beneath the table as he gazes up at you. With a smirk against your cunt, and his eyes studying how your head was still thrown back against the booth, eyes shut tighter than a steel trap—-he shoves two of his free fingers into your mouth. Your eyes shoot open. You look down at him, earning a wink from your husband as he smirks harder against your cunt. The eye contact was filthy, in the most erotic way possible. It always made you feel slightly awkward, in an oddly arousing way, when you made such a type of contact with him in the heat of a moment like this.
You willingly sucked on his fingers, now understanding the purpose for his actions after a thoughtful moment. He groans against your cunt, luckily the sound being muffled by how much his mouth was buried into it. Your tongue swirls itself rapaciously around the digits, drool falling from your mouth as you did so. Vander simply can’t tear his eyes away from such a sight. He groans more as you lower your own gaze, your expression deadly with seduction. He was almost pissy that both of his hands were occupied at the moment. He was anxious to palm at his cock, desperate to find friction of his own now.
His tongue and lips were still working their relentless job on your clit, suckling every few seconds amidst the slurping. The way his facial hair brushes against it every now and then almost sends you into hysterics—bordering on a full blown frenzy.
Your legs are quaking, twitching and spasming with every harsh lick to your clit. It was so sensitive, you couldn’t help how it shocked your nerves, causing them all to fire simultaneously. Electricity burned in your veins, desperate to chase your orgasm as it made your hips flick against his mouth faster than he could lap at you.
Your orgasm burrowed itself into the pit of your stomach, commanding you to follow it down to your cunt.
It didn’t take much longer for you to keel over the edge of your impending climax. It burst through you, your legs clamping shut around his face—a move which Vander was used to by now—-hips mindlessly gyrating against his face as you brutally cum around his fingers. Vander can feel your walls clenching and relaxing back to back with each additional thrust he gave, your voice begging to slip past his fingers as you come undone. He thought you had been dripping wet at the start of this—but he had been sorely mistaken. Your arousal was seeping out of you despite his fingers plugging you up.
“Attagirl..” He whispers against you, giving your clit a few final licks before reluctantly pulling away. The grip on his hair finally loosened as your body went almost completely limp. Your breathing came in rapid, shallow gasps, just as desperate as Vander, himself, now was. His cock was so hard, it felt like it was being choked by his trousers. But he had the patience of a saint. He could wait as long as needed for you to collect yourself once again.
“So, was the service to your liking?” he asks, his tone teasing—and entirely rhetorical—as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. The fingers that had been in your mouth slide free as he takes a moment to compose himself.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” he chuckles, clearly amused by how speechless you’ve become.
“Just don’t forget to tip your server..” He teases, alluding to the painfully obvious fact, that this situation is far from over.
#arcane smut#arcane x reader#arcane#vander x reader#arcane imagine#arcane x reader smut#vander arcane#vander x reader arcane#vander x reader smut#Vander smut#Vander smut imagine#Vander x reader imagine smut#Vander smut Drabble#Vander x reader smut oneshot
588 notes
·
View notes
Text
dating abby headcanons
Art by fjorgust on instagram
Daily click - Palestine masterpost - TLOU and israel
divider creds
꩜ She isn’t super big on pda, but does little stuff like grab your hand or give you occasional kisses on the forehead just to remind you of how she loves you (and to let everyone know you’re hers).
꩜ With that being said, she’s all over you once you’re home.
꩜ Absolutely loves lazy morning cuddles and kisses far more than she’d like to admit.
꩜ I just know she listens to dad music. Definitely a big fan of The Offspring.
꩜ Loves to spoil her girl, but even though she doesn’t admit it, she secretly loves being spoiled and coddled as well.
꩜ Has a pretty high pain tolerance, but would sometimes exaggerate her pain just so you’d coddle and baby her, especially when she’s on her period.
And you know she’s fibbing, but you knew that if you confronted her she would immediately deny it and get super defensive (which is how you know she’s lying).
But you love babying her, so you’re more than happy to play along.
꩜ She snores, but it’s pretty soft and light, so you don’t really mind at all. It’s actually pretty comforting.
꩜ Shares her coin collection with you. You don’t really get the fascination, but seeing her ramble on passionately about what new coins she found only makes you fall in love deeper.
꩜ Reads classics. A huge fan of Dostoevsky. But also she loves nonfictions.
꩜ Absolutely sucks at video games. If you play, she’ll ask if she can try, only to get your character killed like five seconds later then complain that “something’s up with your controller.”
꩜ Loves having her hair played with. She would have trouble sleeping sometimes, but once your fingers are on those golden strands of hers she’s out like a light, already softly snoring into the pillow.
꩜ Sleeps completely naked with you. Not for any sexual purpose, but just feeling her bare skin against yours as you’re sleeping makes her feel closer to you than ever. It’s an innocently intimate and loving moment she likes to share with you.
Honestly just imagine cuddling to sleep at night completely naked. Everything is quiet and you’re peppering sleepy kisses on each other’s face, neck, shoulders, and rubbing each other’s arms and back 'til you fall asleep oh god I’m SICK.
꩜ This woman is in love with sitcoms and I will not be elaborating any further.
꩜ Claims she doesn’t like cats, but once came home like an hour late because she got caught up playing with a stray cat. Refused to tell you the real reason why she was late.
꩜ Cracks the dumbest jokes you’ve ever heard that only put a smile on your face because of how stupid they are and how cute she is when she says them.
Remember that scene where she was trying to joke around with Lev but she’s just super bad at it and he didn’t even try to play along? “You know our dogs can play cards like that?” Yeah, she does that with you too.
꩜ Cries after arguments (canon) but can’t stand people seeing her cry. She’s a pretty emotional person methinks.
꩜ Loves festivities. Will go all out on christmas and halloween, decorating the entire place and buying gifts (pesters you with questions about what you got her).
꩜ Pesto. She loves it on everything.
꩜ Loves massages. Back, shoulders, feet, scalp. Loves them all and only wants them from you.
꩜ A caregiver. (If you’re on meds), she’ll always make sure you take them and take them at the right time. She ensures that you eat three meals a day and get enough sleep, and even doesn’t let you stay up for too long. She just wants her girl to stay healthy.
꩜ She’s a total book hoarder. She promises not to buy another book 'til she’s done reading the ones she has, only for you to find a paper bag with ten new books the next day.
꩜ Loves you endlessly and has your entire wedding planned out in her head. She knows exactly what songs she wants to play and how she wants your dresses to look.
#tlou#abby anderson#the last of us#the last of us part two#abby anderson the last of us#tlou2#abby anderson tlou#abby anderson tlou2#abby anderson x female reader#abby x fem reader#abby anderson x reader#abby the last of us#abby tlou#abby x you#abby x reader#abby x fem!reader#abby x y/n#abby anderson x y/n#abby anderson x you#abby anderson the last of us 2#tlou part 2#tlou hbo#tlou game#the last of us remastered#the last of us part 2
666 notes
·
View notes
Text
fainted
warning: fluff + comfort — soft!sylus taking care of you after you fainted 💫🫶🏻 [ x mc,x reader ]
a/n: thank you for the lovely request, anon! are you feeling better now? i’m concerned :c pls take care of yourself, okay? <3
anon’s request / link: click here
- second acc: @blushpawss
“you know… i don’t think i’ve ever seen a night like this,” you said softly, looking up at the stars shining in the dark sky.
the air was cool and fresh, wrapping around you like a gentle breeze as you and sylus walked down the almost empty street. it was quiet, with only the distant sound of crickets and the occasional rustle of leaves.
you and sylus had discussed and planned this night out a few days ago, even though he lived far away in a place called onychinus. it was a big dangerous city far from linkon, where you lived. getting to linkon from onychinus took him hours, but he didn’t seem to mind.
never to him at all, when it comes to you.
“distance isn’t a problem,” he had told you over the phone, his voice calm and steady. “i’ll be there. all you have to do is say yes.”
of course, you had agreed. the thought of him driving all that way just to spend time with you made your heart race. you could almost hear him smile through the phone when you said yes.
“then it’s a plan,” he replied, as if the long drive was nothing.
now, as you strolled outside together under the night sky, you felt grateful. he had come all this way just to be with you. when he arrived, you felt a thrill seeing him step out of his sleek black car, his eyes finding yours as he walked toward you.
sylus looked at you from the side, his expression hard to read as always, but there was a slight smile at the corner of his mouth. “guess it’s not often you’re out this late,” he said, his voice low and smooth, with a bit of his usual confidence. even though he was usually serious, you had learned to see the small ways he showed his softer side—mostly when he was with you.
and you find that adorable, however.
“maybe not,” you replied, a lighthearted tone in your voice. “but i like it… it’s peaceful.”
you had been walking together for a while, enjoying the cool night air. he had suggested this place earlier—a quiet little park just outside the city, away from the bright lights and noise. with the moon low in the sky, shining soft silver light on the path, it felt like a different world, one where time slowed down, and it was just the two of you.
you felt a small warmth in your chest that grew stronger when you were with him. the way he walked a bit closer to you tonight, his hand sometimes brushing against yours, made your heart beat a little faster. there was something calm and charming about him that made you feel safe, even when you felt a strange dizziness you couldn’t shake off. you had been feeling a bit off since earlier, but the moment felt too perfect to ruin with your worries. maybe it was nothing—a little tiredness or a chill in the air.
maybe.
“are you sure you’re alright?” he asked suddenly, his eyes focused on you as he noticed you swaying a bit. sylus had a way of noticing things that others might miss, and his attention to detail was almost surprising.
“yeah… i’m good, really,” you assured him, managing a small smile. “just a little lightheaded.” you laughed softly, trying to brush it off, though you could feel his gaze linger, a crease forming on his brow.
he didn’t buy it; you could tell by how he slowed his steps and focused completely on you. “we don’t have to keep walking,” he said, stopping and looking down at you with a mix of concern and determination. “we can go back to the car if you need to rest for a bit.”
“no, no… i’m fine, really,” you insisted, trying to sound convincing, but even to yourself, it felt weak. you wanted to stay and enjoy just a few more moments of this rare peace with him.
but that’s when it happened.
you felt the world tilt, the stars above becoming blurry and slipping away. your knees felt weak, and your vision faded to a soft blur. before you realized it, the ground seemed to disappear beneath you.
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
when you opened your eyes, everything felt different. the cool night air was still there, but it felt warmer now, and you understood why—it was sylus. he was holding you in his arms, his strong grip supporting you. his expression was unusually soft, showing a rare vulnerability in his normally steady gaze. his voice was quiet, but it felt like a warm blanket around you.
“hey… you’re awake,” he said, relief laced in his tone. “just take it easy.”
you blinked, still feeling a bit confused, trying to understand what was happening. “what… what happened?” you asked softly, your voice shaking. it was a strange feeling to be so vulnerable, and the look in his eyes—something like worry—made it feel even more real.
“you fainted,” he said, his voice softer than you had ever heard. one of his hands was gently on your back, holding you close, while his other hand held yours, making you feel secure. “just breathe, okay? you’re safe.”
a wave of embarrassment washed over you as you realized what had happened. “i… i’m sorry,” you mumbled, feeling a flush rise to your cheeks. “i didn’t mean to scare you…”
“don’t apologize,” he said, his voice strong but soft with unexpected kindness. “it’s not your fault. if anything, i should have noticed sooner.” he changed his grip a little, gently brushing his thumb along your shoulder in a way that felt almost unreal.
you took a shaky breath, feeling a little more steady, but still shaken by everything that happened. fainting was something you had never experienced before, and how sudden it was made you feel vulnerable, like you were on unsteady ground. “it… it’s never happened before,” you whispered, looking up at him, trying to hide the fear still in your eyes. “i didn’t know what to do…”
his gaze softened even more, which was rare to see. “you don’t have to know what to do. that’s what i’m here for,” he said quietly, his fingers tracing gentle circles on your shoulder, his touch comforting. “it’s okay to lean on me, you know? you don’t always have to be so strong.”
his words wrapped around you, calming the panic in your chest. sylus was always a loving presence, and even in moments like this, his affection shone through. every gentle touch and soft word felt like a promise that he would always be there for you. he helped you sit up, keeping his arm around your shoulders to steady you, his grip strong and reassuring.
“still dizzy?” he asked, his voice soft but full of quiet concern that made your heart ache in a good way.
“just a little,” you admitted, feeling a bit more stable now but still grateful for the warmth of his arm around you. “thank you, sylus… really. i don’t know what i would have done without you.”
he let out a soft laugh, shaking his head a little. “you think i’d let you faint without doing something?” his lips turned up into a small smile, a hint of his usual bold confidence coming back. “besides, if it’s you who needs me, i don’t mind being a little less… myself.”
his words made your heart skip a beat, and their meaning settled over you. for someone like sylus, who was so confident and calm, it meant a lot to know he would let his guard down just for you. he wasn’t just saying it—he was showing it with every careful movement and every gentle touch.
after a while, he helped you get back up, guiding you carefully to a nearby bench under the trees, where the moonlight filtered softly through the leaves. you both sat there in comfortable silence, your small hand still held tightly in his large hands, his thumb tracing gentle circles on your skin.
“just promise me something,” he murmured, breaking the silence, his voice barely above a whisper.
“anything,” you replied, meeting his gaze.
“next time, don’t hide it. i’d rather know you’re not okay than find out like this,” he said, his eyes serious and filled with so much unspoken care.
you nodded, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “i promise.” then, you leaned your head against his shoulder, letting the quietness of the night surround you both. you knew that as long as he was beside you, you’d never have to face anything alone again. as you sat there, sylus kept his arm draped around your shoulders, steadying you with every gentle movement. he didn’t let go, as if to reassure you that he wasn’t going anywhere. a soft breeze rustled through the trees, bringing the scent of night-blooming flowers. even though the air felt cool against your skin, his presence kept you warm.
“let’s get you some water,” he said, his voice a smooth murmur, laced with concern. “i parked a little ways back. can you stand?”
you nodded slowly, still feeling a bit shaky, but his hand on your back gave you strength. he helped you rise from the bench, his touch careful yet firm. as you swayed slightly, he immediately moved closer, wrapping an arm around your waist. “easy now,” he said, his voice low but steady. “i’ll take you.”
with surprising ease, he lifted you off the ground, cradling you against him. the warmth of his body enveloped you, and you instinctively relaxed in his hold. it felt both comforting and safe, easing the fear that had been building in your chest. you caught the glances of a few passersby, but in that moment, all you could focus on was sylus.
“hold on tight,” he said with a hint of a smirk, though you could hear the seriousness beneath it. “i promise i won’t drop you.”
as he carried you toward his car, the world around you began to blur, the sounds of the night fading into the background. the soft crunch of gravel beneath his shoes was the only noise as he approached the sleek vehicle parked a few meters away. when you reached the car, he gently opened the passenger door and carefully placed you inside.
“there you go,” he said, his tone lightening as he made sure you were settled in comfortably. “now, just relax for a moment. i’ll be right back.”
you watched him as he closed the door and walked toward a nearby convenience store. he moved with a smoothness that always caught your attention, even in a rush. his broad shoulders were strong and made his waist look smaller. you could see his biceps flexing slightly as he walked, showing off the muscles under his fitted shirt. his abs were well-defined, tightening a little with each step he took.
when he turned to look back at you, the streetlights lit up his strong jaw and the light stubble on his face, making him look even more charming. you leaned back in the soft leather seat, still feeling a bit dizzy but thankful he was there. the cool air from the car’s air conditioning felt nice against your skin.
as he went into the store, you admired how he carried himself, a mix of confidence and grace. it was always nice to see him move like that, reminding you how strong and supportive he was, especially in moments like this. you felt warmth inside, not just from his presence but from how much he cared for you.
after a few moments, you took a deep breath, trying to shake off the lingering light-headedness. sylus returned quickly, a water bottle in one hand and a small bag in the other. he climbed back into the car, his expression a mix of relief and determination.
“i got you water and some snacks,” he said, handing you the bottle first. “you need to stay hydrated.”
you unscrewed the cap, taking a few small sips, the coolness refreshing against your dry throat. sylus watched you carefully, his gaze never leaving your face as if he was making sure you were okay. once you finished drinking, he handed you a small pack of crackers.
“here, eat these,” he urged, his voice low and steady. “it’ll help with your energy.” you took a cracker, nibbling at it while he kept his eyes on you, his presence calming you.
“thank you for coming back so quickly,” you said, feeling a warmth spread through your chest at his care.
“wouldn’t dream of leaving you alone after that,” he replied, his tone casual yet sincere. “not a chance.” he settled back in his seat, his body angled toward you, ready to offer support at a moment’s notice.
as you continued to nibble on the crackers, he leaned closer, his hand finding yours, fingers intertwining in a comforting grip. “you scared me, you know,” he admitted quietly. “when i saw you sway like that, it felt like the world stopped for a moment. i just... i couldn’t let anything happen to you.”
the weight of his words settled between you, his usual confident facade dropping just enough for you to see the worry behind it. you felt a swell of emotion in your chest, and you squeezed his hand tighter.
“i’m sorry,” you said softly, feeling guilty for causing him concern. “i thought i could handle it.”
“it doesn’t matter,” he replied, shaking his head slightly. “just promise me that if you ever feel off again, you’ll tell me right away. no hiding it.” his voice held a firm yet gentle tone, as though he was reminding you once more, giving you a silent promise that he would always be there to help.
“i promise,” you said, feeling reassured by his care. the way he was looking at you made you feel safe, like nothing could hurt you as long as he was by your side.
after a while, you started to feel more like yourself, the snack helping to ease the light-headedness. as you leaned back in your seat, you took a moment to appreciate the night sky outside the window, the stars twinkling brightly against the dark backdrop.
“do you want to stay here for a little while longer?” he asked, noticing your gaze. “i can turn the car on for a bit if it gets too warm.”
“i think i’d like that,” you replied, feeling a sense of calm wash over you.
he nodded and turned on the car, filling the interior with a soft hum. he shifted in his seat to face you fully, resting his arm casually against the back of the passenger seat. “tell me more about what you want to do when you feel better,” he said, a teasing glint in his eyes. “i’m all ears. and i’ll always be right by your side, even if it means facing any challenges.”
as his warm words wrapped around you, you realized that what happened earlier was behind you. in this moment, with sylus next to you and the stars shining bright above, everything felt right again.
#sylus#love and deepspace#sylus love and deepspace#love and deepspace sylus#lads sylus#lnds sylus#l&ds sylus#sylus x reader#sylus x y/n#sylus x you#sylus fic#sylus fluff#fluff#x reader#x y/n#x you#x reader fluff#x you fluff#x y/n fluff#love and deepspace fic#love and deepspace fluff#love and deepspace x reader#love and deepspace x you#lads#lads fluff#lnds#lnds fluff#l&ds#l&ds fluff#lads x reader
964 notes
·
View notes
Text
LATE NIGHT TALKING | MATTHEW GRAY GUBLER
The best man and maid of honor hooking up? How cliche!!
Word Count: 8k
Warning/Includes: Ridiculous amounts of flirting. Very “omg just fuck him and get it over with” vibes. The wedding of a fictional couple that I got way too invested in! Smut! Named after this song because I was listening to it when I got the request lmao.
Shout out to Matthew for literally being in someone’s wedding while I was writing this. I love you, baby ❤️
Hattie Welsh is a city girl. She was born and raised downtown where she would walk herself to school during the week and had a route for maximum weekend shopping. An only child to two parents, a dad who stayed home when it was Not the norm, she got anything and everything she ever wanted. Her dad would meet her on the front porch with her bike after school and they'd cruise around the neighborhood. On weekends, all three of them would take the 10 minute drive to the local park where they'd bike the same 8 miles every Saturday. At the end of the trail was an ice cream shop. Birthday cake was her favorite. She'd get three scoops in a cone but her dad would always end up finishing the last scoop for her.
It was memories like these that inspired Hattie to use her business degree to open an outdoor supply company. She named it after her parents. Alan & Eva's Co-op. It started very local. But Hattie was always good with promotion. She had an excellent marketing team and connections formed around the state. A year into business and Alan & Eva had three locations.
With this sudden growth, Hattie had to seek out more intensive financial advisement and she requested the services of LF Corporation - financial consultants of companies like North Face and REI.
This is how she met Cole Briggs.
Cole was sent to meet with Alan & Eva's CEO. He knew her name, he knew her qualifications, he knew the context of their meeting. He did not know how gorgeous she was so he was immediately caught off guard. His palms were sweaty by the time they shook hands.
"Oh, wow!" he remarked as he saw the bike mounted on her wall. "A Schwinn? I had the same one as a kid but in green!"
"Oh my gosh, yes! That's actually my childhood bike!" she beamed. She leaned over her desk with a bright smile. "I've kinda outgrown it."
He laughed, "I grew up in Pullen Park neighborhood so my friends and I would ride the trail at-"
"Warren park?" she gasped. "My parents and I used to go every weekend, still do!"
"No way! Where-where are your parents?"
"Downtown, near the natural science museum."
"Ah, yeah, yeah. We didn't get downtown often but we would occasionally have family dinner nights at Kaleidoscope."
"Oh, we love kaleidoscope. The lobster-"
'Mac and cheese! Are you kidding? I can inhale it in one bite. Sometimes my dad would pick it up for me on the way home.”
She cackled. She looked at him lovesick. "How have we never met?"
"What high school did you go to?"
"Hollis. You?"
"Ah, okay. I went to the Day School."
"Ooh, fancy pants."
Blush crept over his face and flustered, he set out his briefcase and took a deep breath. "So you're looking into financial assistance for all three locations?"
She stared at him for a moment, "That's right."
And that was it.
Immediately after Cole left the room, she called you. Her best friend, her confidant, her person. You had your hands busy at work so you tucked the phone between your ear and shoulder, “Hello?"
"[y /n]! Hi, you busy?"
"Uh, a little. But I can chat. What's up?"
"I think I just met my husband."
You paused. "Okay, I'm not busy."
Cole proposed while they were on a hike. A week before, he had asked for your blessing. He said, "You'll be the first one she calls so I just didn't want you to be surprised."
Though, when she facetimed you to show you the diamond rock, you still pretended to be surprised.
A formal ask to be her maid of honor was completely unnecessary. You were born to do it. Who else would it be? Still, she made you the cutest basket, filled with perfume, a travel mug, some candles, some candy. You happily accepted.
And happily planned her engagement party and bridal shower and bachelorette party. You got the dress she wanted you to wear. And when the weekend finally arrived, you traveled nearly an hour into the country to get to the wedding venue.
10 acres of privately owned land sequestered down a dirt road. The ceremony site was a simple platform with an arbor placed in front of rows of benches. Surrounded by trees. Hiding right beside it is a wooden home designated for the newlyweds. The reception site is about a mile away, covered by a tent. There is a garden of roses and daisies. Further down the property is a large barn with rows of tents. It is absolutely everything Cole and Hattie wanted. It is so them.
You help set up for the rehearsal dinner. The parents of the bride and groom have arrived. Your friends and fellow bridesmaids are mingling with the groomsmen. Hattie would be so much more stressed without Opal. Opal is a an older woman, short but strong and a prolific wedding planner. She ushers the men around like pieces on a chess board and directs the caterers without so much as a glance.
As you chat with the happy couple, she calls, "Cole." It's not exactly friendly. She marches up and takes a firm hold of his arm.
"Yes, ma'am?" Cole shakes and Hattie glances over at you with a small smirk. You have to contain your laughter.
"Where is the best man? We are way behind schedule and losing daylight."
"I know. I know. I'm sorry. He had to fly in but last I heard he was on the road from the airport."
"Okay, can I get an ETA on that?"
"I, uh...I don't... have one."
"Babe!" Hattie whines.
"Hey, I'm sorry! Look," he glances at all three of you, intimidated by your pressed faces. "T'll give him a call."
"Wonderful idea," Opal watches closely as he steps away, his phone in his hand, quickly pressed to his ear. She turns away from Hattie, mumbling,
"You update me on that, okay?"
"Yes, Opal," she nods and turns to you with a huff.
You giggle, "Are you sure this guy's real?"
"Oh, I'm sure."
"Okay, well," you throw your hands up in a shrug, "Can't we just start without him? It's hot and we're supposed to be eating already."
"No, we can't. It throws off the flow of the ceremony. Plus, Cole really wants him here."
"Mhm and where is this guy coming from again?"
"Matthew."
"Huh?"
"His name is Matthew."
"Okay. Where is Matthew coming from?"
"New York. I told you he's an actor."
"Yes, yes," you roll your eyes. "Surprised he could find time in his busy schedule to come to his friend's wedding."
"He loves Cole. Cole loves him. More than me, I think. They've known each other forever."
'Mhm. Quick question, does Matthew know Cole's getting married tomorrow?"
She shakes her head and laughs, beaming at Cole as he walks back over. "Hi, baby. Did you talk to him?"
"Uh...no..." he feels bad saying it. "But! I'm sure he'll be here any second."
"Cole!" it's a shriek from the distance that instantly silences the crowd. The crunching of leaves under hurried feet, rustling through the trees, "Cole! I'm here! I'm here!"
"See?" Cole says to Hattie with the brightest smile. "I told you, I told you! Matthew!" he waves.
And out of the trees comes what you can only describe as a colorful slenderman. He's tall and dressed in a sage suit, in accordance with the dress code. He nearly trips coming down the steps but he catches himself, just in time, stumbling over on the tip of his toes. The center of attention, pulling all eyes towards his entrance, which you think would annoy the bride and groom. But no, you look at them and they're just delighted. Grinning ear to ear, Cole's arms outstretched to catch Matthew in a great, big hug.
"Oh, man!" Matthew huffs. "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. My flight got delayed and then I couldn't get a rental and then I got lost, I'm so sorry!" he instantly releases Cole to give Hattie a kiss on the cheek and a hug, "I'm so sorry, please don't kick me out of your wedding."
Hattie cackles, “Oh, we could never!”
You watch as his expression transfers from guilt to a sweet smile. You watch him rub your best friend's back and give her one final squeeze before his eyes cut up and accidentally meet your gaze. He couldn't help but wonder where the pretty sandals and pretty dress would lead, but once he sees your face, he can't look away. He stands up tall and takes a small step around Hattie just to get to you. "Hi," he holds out his hand.
"Hi," you smile and your hand fits in his like a glove. You only take a second to memorize the features of his face, the tip of his nose, the stubble on his chin, the light in his eyes. But it feels like an eternity.
Behind him, Hattie and Cole watch the spark catch flame. She nudges his arm and they look at each other with knowing smiles. Cole nods, "Uh, Matthew, this is Hattie's best friend and maid of honor, [y/n]. [y/n], this is my best friend and best man, Matthew."
"ly/n]." Matthew says breathlessly. "Hi."
"Matthew. Hello, nice to meet you."
"Now," he slyly puts his hand over yours to keep it in place. "That is maid of honor, right? Not matron?"
You giggle, "Yes. I'm completely and totally unwed."
"Good, good. Excellent. Love to hear it."
You giggle, again, and it's the most ridiculous sound. Cole and Hattie could not enjoy the show any more. "You two will actually be walking down the aisle together," Hattie says.
"Oh, wow," Matthew exclaims. "Had I known that, I would've been here way sooner."
"So not funny, dude," Cole shakes his head but you think it's hilarious.
"You're laughing?" Opal's voice cuts the laughter short. "The sun is setting, the food is getting cold and you're laughing?"
"Sorry, Opal," Cole frowns. "This is Matthew, the-"
"Matthew, [y/n], I need you two right here," she interrupts and with a hand on Matthew's shoulder, she gently pushes him to the side. She pushes him directly into you and it's almost instinct for his hands to take hold of your waist. Just as much so for your palms to fall on his chest.
"Oh no," he whispers. "This is... terrible."
You laugh and take a step back but he holds onto to your wrist, places your hand around his bicep as he faces forward.
"You feel at home being directed all over the place?" you ask, anxiously straightening out your dress.
"Um, actually I prefer to do the directing."
"Oh, have you considered wedding planning?"
"I offered to plan for these guys but they turned me down. I mean, what the fuck?"
"Well, I think that would've required you to be on time. Early even."
"Oh, then I'm out."
You cackle, a lot louder than you mean to, and once again here's Opal. "You two need to switch sides."
"Hm?"
"Switch."
"Oh."
You feel Matthew's hand linger on your back as you step around him, your hand instantly latching onto his opposite arm.
"We're so good at this," you shrug.
"Yeah, yeah, I know, right? Right? You'd think she'd cut us some slack."
Despite all the fuss leading up to it, the ceremony rehearsal itself is only 10 minutes at most. You and Matthew are the last to make your entrance and it is an odd feeling to separate. He stands on the opposite side of the arbor and as the flower girl practices her walk, he catches your eyes and mouths: miss you.
"Wonderful!" Opal cheers. It's the first time you've seen her smile all night. Once Cole and Hattie have finally taken their places right in the center. "Absolutely wonderful. Now, if everyone will head over to the reception hall for dinner. There is a lukewarm meal awaiting you all," and she cuts her eyes at Matthew.
"Again, Opal, so sorry about that," he shakes his head. You seem to be the only one who finds it funny.
Hattie gives Cole one big kiss and turns to you, "How weird was that? Me walking down the aisle? Did I look stupid?"
You take her hands in yours, shaking your head, "You looked beautiful. It's gonna be beautiful."
She shrieks, a long "eeeek!" of excitement that ripples amongst you and your friends. The group steps down from the platform, followed closely by the groom and his party. Matthew takes the opportunity to grab Cole's arm and whisper, "How long have you known [y/n]?”
"Uh, pretty much as long as I've known my fiancée." he laughs.
"And you were... what? Just hiding her from me? Not cool."
"You were hardly in the proper condition for someone like [y/n]. She's, uh, how do I say? Very grown up. Very focused, like her best friend.”
"And now? What condition am I in now?"
"The kind of condition where...I literally had no choice but to let you meet her?"
"Fuck off," Matthew shoves him and Cole stumbles with a cocky laugh.
"Sooooo," Hattie says as she interlocks your arms. She notices you looking back and she knows exactly who you're looking for. "Little lady?"
"Yes, little miss?"
"What do you think of Matthew?"
Your stomach flips at the sound of his name. "What do you mean?"
"Don't do that."
"What? What are you talking about?"
“This was you the whole rehearsal.." she sticks her finger between her teeth and mocks your giggle, "Tee-hee. Oh, tee-hee-hee-hee.”
"I was not!"
"Oh, but you were. You're quite smitten."
"I am not!"
"He's smitten with you, too."
"Whatever," you roll your eyes. But after a brief pause, you ask, "You think so?"
Clink-clink-clink.
You watch as Hattie rises from her seat, her doting fiancé standing beside her, to give a toast. You look up at her and it's not until this moment that you realize she's getting married. Not when she tried on her dress, not when she did a practice run down the aisle. Here. Now. With Cole's arm around her waist.
"Thank you all so much for being here. We're so grateful to have all our closest friends and family by our sides through this crazy weekend. I know some of you traveled very far and some of you are probably wondering when this whole thing will just be over but," she laughs along with the crowd. "Soon. Very soon. Thank you all for being readers in our little fairytale. Particularly these people sitting up here beside us, I know my friends have gotten an earful about Cole over the years."
"What did she say?" Cole interrupts, jokingly cutting his head towards all of you which earns him a burst of laughter.
"Seriously. Thank you all. Tomorrow wouldn't be possible without you and we can't imagine any other way. So…" she raises her glass glass and, because she's the bride and everyone must obey, everyone raises theirs as well. She looks Cole right in the eye and gives him that same lovesick smile she gave them the day they met. You glance away for only a moment and Matthew is looking at you the same way.
You tilt your head at him, furrow your eyebrows.
"To you," Hattie says. "To me. To us. Cheers."
"Cheers!" you toast, looking directly at Matthew who raises his glass to you, you alone, before taking a sip.
At the end of the night, the bride and groom are meant to retire to their respective areas. Cole and his groomsmen have a cabin on the other side of the property. Hattie and the girls have reign of the barn and an array of tents just in case they're feeling particularly outdoorsy. Yet, when the time comes, you and your friends sit on the barn's porch and watch Hattie and Cole embrace each other for a long time.
"I change my mind," she tells him. "We should just spend the night together. Let's go to our tree house."
He giggles and gives her a gentle kiss, "Ah, you just wanna get in my pants."
"So?"
A cackle now, "Goodnight, future wife. I love you."
"Noooo!"
"I love you!"
"I love you!"
Hattie waits until he's out of sight, and even then, she stands there and wishes for him to come back.
"H! Come on, honey," your friend calls to her. "It's late. Big day tomorrow!"
So she reluctantly walks up the stairs and begins the process of unwinding. It's not easy. Every second something pops into her mind and she hops up, ready to spring into action. It's a group effort to reel her in. Eventually, it's just you and her, lying in a cozy bed and she can barely keep her eyes open. She's trying though.
"Okay," you sigh. "I should probably get going. You gonna be alright?"
She nods, "I'm getting married..."
You grin, "Yes, ma'am. You are. So you need to get some rest," you kiss her forehead and rise out of bed, groaning as you straighten yourself up. "You need anything?”
"Mm-mm," she shakes her head. "I'm okay. See you in the morning."
"See you in the morning."
You're one of the few who chose to rough it in a tent for the night. There's a small heater and a platform bed. It's not a whole lot but the bedding is comfortable. You snuggle in and despite all your exhaustion, you spend the next chunk of time scrolling on your phone. When you hear a faint knock on the scaffolding of your tent, you’re suddenly hyperaware of the fact that you're in the middle of the woods. Alone. Quite a distance between you and the next tent. You sit up slowly, unsure if your mind is playing tricks on you. You take timid steps towards the opening and flinch as a shadow passes by.
You hesitantly pull down the zipper and when you see Matthew wondering around, you breathe a sigh of relief. “Fuck, dude. You scared the crap out of me."
"I'm so sorry," he instantly returns and lowers himself down to your level. "I didn't mean to."
"Um..you do know this is the bridal side of the property, right?"
"Mhm. I was looking for you."
"Me?"
"Mhm. Wanna go for a walk?"
"A walk?"
"Yeah, with me?"
"With you?"
"Okay, just assume I mean everything I say from now on."
You giggle, "I just met you a few hours ago...you want me to walk some random trail with you in the middle of the night?"
"All true, yes."
You tilt your head at him, "Fine. Okay."
"Don't sound too excited."
You turn around briefly to grab a hoodie. You throw it on and step out of the opening, taking Matthew's hand as you step off the platform. He takes your hand and he doesn't let go. He'd hate to lose you in the dark.
“So,” he says as you start down the trail. Your face is gently illuminated by the lights along the pathway and he can’t stop staring. “How do you know Hattie?”
“Technically high school, but I think we were separated at birth.”
He chuckles, “Best friends, huh?”
“Oh, best friends. Went to college together, too. Lived together for a while, didn’t kill each other.”
“That’s rare.”
“I know. I don’t see her nearly as often as I’d like but that’s my girl. How do you know Cole?”
“Drama camp.”
You stop in your tracks, stop both of you in your tracks. Still, Matthew doesn’t let go of your hand. “Drama camp?”
“Yes? You didn’t know Cole was a theater kid?”
You continue walking but your face is absolutely flabbergasted. “Cole? Finance bro Cole? A theatre kid? You’re fucking with me.”
“Oh, I am not. He was quite good actually,” he laughs. “He could’ve been a star.”
“Wow…” you shake your head. “Wow. You think you know someone.”
“And then you find out he was in a summer production of Fiddler on the Roof.”
You stop again. You feel like you could fall to your knees. “Matthew. Please. Please tell me there are pictures.”
“My mom recorded the whole thing, there’s a cassette tape somewhere.”
“Oh my god!” you cackle. “You’ll have to show me.”
“Fly out to Vegas with me at the end of the weekend. I’ll show you all the good stuff.”
“Oh. You’re planning on taking me to your hometown already? To meet your mom and everything?”
“You can meet my mom, you can meet my dad, you can meet my stepparents, you can meet my sister, my brother, her husband, his wife, my nephews.”
“Woah!”
“Oh, they’d love you.”
“I just wanna see Fiddler on the Roof!”
You’re not sure how long you stay out with him. The trail lights make it seem like no time has passed at all. You fill the air with so much chatter that it’s a shock when you loop around to the barn. As you near your tent, Matthew’s steps grow smaller. Slower, following close behind you with your hand still tight in his.
“Well,” he sighs. “Thank you for accompanying me. I was scared to walk alone.”
“Oh, is that why you invited me?”
“I just thought I’d get lost by myself. Needed backup.”
“Mhm,” you nod. “You do seem quite helpless.”
“You have no idea.”
You giggle and as you step up to your tent, you’re not ready to go inside just yet. So you turn to him and he is dangerously close to you. You can feel the heat radiating from his chest.
“Well, I had a nice time,” you smile. “Thank you.”
“Thank you.”
It’s going to happen. You raise yourself on your toes. He takes a firm hold of your forearms. His nose touches yours. Then you hear the sharp sound of a zipper slashing open. You both flinch and look over to see your friend, poking her head of wild hair out the opening of her tent.
You bashfully step away from Matthew, crossing your arms. “Hi, Gina.”
Gina squints, yawning, “[y/n]?” She rubs her tired eyes and looks at you. Then at Matthew. Then you. Then Matthew. “Uh…what the hell are you two doing?” she smirks.
“Nothing,” you tell her. “Go back to sleep.”
She looks at you. Then Matthew. Then you. You. And she ducks her head back in.
You chuckle shyly and shake your head. Moment’s gone but he still looks pretty under the moonlight.
“It’s late,” you whisper. “I need my beauty sleep.”
He scoffs, “To get even more beautiful?” he shakes his head jokingly as he backs away. “[y/n], that’s just greedy.”
You laugh, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Oh, yes. You will,” he waves as he walks away. Blowing you a kiss, “Goodnight, [y/n].”
You wait until he's out of sight, and even then, you stand there and wish for him to come back.
“Ahhhh!” Hattie screams once you rise in the morning. You step into the barn, groggy and sluggish, but when you see her rushing towards you, you can’t help but smile. “Hi! Good morning!”
“Good morning, beautiful bride!” you give her a tight hug.
“We’re having a little breakfast. Here’s your mimosa.”
You glance down at the glass, taking it from her hesitantly, “It’s eight in the morning?”
“Hey, everyone has to do what I say today!”
“Okay, okay,” you take a quick sip and she beams, sitting down beside you at the table.
You fill your plate with food and seamlessly fall in conversation. None of it about the wedding, ironically. You have the rest of the day for that. Right now, in this moment, it’s gossip. It’s silly. It’s so relaxing that you don’t even realized you’ve finished your mimosa.
“I thought it was pretty cozy,” Gina shrugs. “Not sure what [y/n] thinks but then again she was out with Matthew all night.”
There is an immediate halt. Forks hitting the plate, a stunned silence falling over the room and all eyes on you.
“You were?” Hattie gasps.
You stutter, “It…wasn’t…all night. We-we just went for a walk.”
“Oh, is that what the kids are calling it these days?” a friend chimes in.
“We went for an actual walk!” you exclaim. “It was nothing.”
“Ohhhh, yeah,” Gina laughs. “It sure looked like nothing when I caught you two making out.”
Instant gasps.
“We did not make out!” you insist. “We didn’t even kiss!”
“H, how do u feel about making this wedding a joint thing?”
You look down, picking at your food as your face burns red and Hattie is just grinning at you.
Across the way, Cole receives a text from his bride, saying: Ask your friend wtf he was doing last night
Cole raises his eyebrows and spots Matthew shaving in the bathroom mirror. He slyly walks in and crosses his arms. He tries his best to be nonchalant, leaning back against the wall, eyeing Matthew in the mirror, “So. You have a good night?”
Matthew furrows his brows at him, “Yeah? Bed was comfortable.”
“Mhm. And…you didn’t…didn’t sneak off anywhere?”
Matthew completely turns his body around, “You and the wife talking about me?”
“My wife and her wife are talking about you, I think.”
He can’t help but smile to himself, “Well…cool…”
Cole laughs, “What’s the plan here, dude?”
“The plan is…to see [y/n] again as soon as humanly possible.”
Cole shakes his head, breaking a smile, “You do know that this is my wedding, right?”
Matthew laughs as he pats his face clean, “Yeah but…I don’t know, I was kinda thinking we could make it a joint thing?”
Once everyone’s hair and makeup is done, it’s silly to you that you have to pretend to do it all for photos. The makeup artist holds her brush to your full glam face just so the photographer can take a shot and it takes everything in you not to laugh. But it’s what the bride wants. You and the girls get into your dresses. You twirl and giggle like a game of dress up. Until Opal announces Hattie’s entrance. Then suddenly it’s very real.
Hattie walks downstairs in her gown, a ballgown specifically. Poofy, but not too big, a corset holding up her breasts, a diamond necklace on her chest to match her earrings. Her hair is put up and curled. Her makeup is done to perfection.
Oh. She is just perfect.
It moves everyone to a fit of squeals but you clasp your hands over your mouth and just stare at her. You go to wipe the tears from your eyes but remember your makeup so you fan your face. She laughs as she walks directly to you and takes you a tight hug. The photographer captures your sobbing face in all it’s glory. Hattie will frame that one for sure.
When Hattie’s dad comes around to escort her to the ceremony site, you take her hands in yours.
“It’s not too late,” you tell her. “We can still run.”
She laughs. “You know…I thought I might for a second there but…nah, I don’t wanna. I wanna marry him.”
You have to shake your head to keep from crying, “Okay. Okay, then let’s get you fucking hitched.”
Guest have arrived. Each chair is full and the forest around them is positively buzzing with excitement. The florals accentuate the atmosphere beautifully and now all that’s missing is the blushing bride.
You walk down the pathway with your friends, each of you holding up your dresses to protect them from the dirt. Your dress is by far the shiniest. Though all of yours are a variation of green patterns, yours is solid and laced with golden glitter tulle. The maid of honor must stand out. Matthew catches sight of you immediately but not just because you’re the maid of honor, not just because you’re shiny. But because it’s you.
And you look amazing.
It’s like everyone and everything around you fades away. Like he’s watching you walk towards him in slow motion. Your hair flowing in the wind, your lips stretching out into a smile just for him. When you step up to him, he has to take a moment because you just smell so good.
“Wowww,” he breathes out. “Look at you.”
You blush, “Look at me? Look at you!” you don’t even think about it, you just touch his clean shaven face. Run your knuckles over the smooth skin and he revels in it, closing his eyes for just a second. “You clean up nice.”
“Thank you. I only do it when absolutely necessary.”
You laugh and lean into him a bit, totally fixated until you notice the other bridesmaids watching you both from the sidelines. You cut your eyes at them and take a step back. You’re grateful when Opal comes in with her iron fist, arranging you all in order and demanding you stay there.
The music starts, you take a deep breath. You gave Matthew’s arm a squeeze, “You remember anything from rehearsal?”
“Nope, not at all. Just winging it.”
There is not much to say about the ceremony itself except that everyone - everyone - is in tears by the end. It is only thirty minutes but after it all, Cole and Hattie are married and nothing has ever felt so right.
Matthew links your arms as you make your exit behind the newlyweds and you can help but laugh at the tears staining his cheeks. You grin as you wipe them away with your thumb.
Pictures.
So many fucking pictures. So many poses. So many arrangements. So many beautiful backdrops to stand in front of and smile and live in awe of the bride and groom. Eventually, Cole and Hattie go off to take their own portraits and unsurprisingly, you wind up eating a plate of hors d'oeuvres with Matthew.
“You know her?” he asks you, nodding his head towards a guest who stays seated, fanning herself with her wedding program.
“Yeah, that’s Mia. We went to college with her.”
“It’s, like, not that hot out here, right? Am I crazy?”
“Asshole,” you swat his arm. “She’s pregnant.”
“Oh…oh. Oh, she is?”
“Yes!” you giggle. “You just can’t tell because she chose the poofiest dress to wear today.”
“Oopsie,” he cringes. “Hey, is that something you might consider?”
“Hm?”
“Getting pregnant?”
You nearly choke on your bite of food but promptly clear your throat, “What the fuck? Is that a threat?”
“No. No, it’s an offer,” he grins.
You shake your head at him, ducking your hesd down so he can’t see your heated face. Your smile. “You have your speech prepared?" you ask him.
"Speech?"
"Uh, yeah. Your best man speech?"
"I was supposed to write a speech?" he exclaims.
Your jaw drops in shock and horror and you're dangerously close to scolding him until you see a smirk form on his face.
'That's not funny!"
"Of course I have a speech. You think I'm nuts?"
"Yes!"
"I have a speech prepared that is going to bring absolutely everyone in attendance to tears. They might as well go ahead and pass out the tissues now."
"Oh, real confident there, huh?"
"My speech is gonna kick your speech's ass."
You cackle, "It's not a contest, you freak. We're declaring our love for our best friends and their new spouse!"
"Sounds like you're nervous. Sounds like you can't take the heat."
"What heat? You know what? I'm not doing this with you. I'm gonna deliver my speech and as long as Hattie loves it, I'm content."
He nods, “…bawk-bawk-bawk-bawk."
"Stop it!"
"[y/n]!” you hear from behind you and you whip your head around. Hattie is running up to you, dress lifted, feet fast. "[y/n]!"
You run right to her, catching her in your arms as you collide, "What? What is it? What's wrong? What are you doing? You're supposed to be getting ready for your grand entrance!"
She huffs, catching her breath, "I know. I will. I am, whew..." she catches her breath. "I just had to tell you," she pants. "I just got fucked in my wedding dress!"
"Oh!" you cover your mouth to conceal your burst of laughter. "Oh my god! I thought this was a classy party!"
"Well, we wrote it into the schedule. We even finished with three minutes to spare. Both of us!"
"Oh my god!" you repeat, hunching over in laughter as she runs off.
You and Matthew hadn’t prepared anything especially elaborate for your reception entrance. But the DJ makes the best man and maid of honor sound like such a big deal that you have to do something. Anything. And utimately, he just ends up twirling you around in front of him. Your dress flows through the air, this wide smile on your face and he so casually wraps his arms around you to prevent you from tripping in your heels.
Seriously. Could you two make it any more obvious?
Cole and Hattie are greeted with an uproar of applause and cheers, the photographer right in their faces, an outpour of love coming from all around them. You clap your hands incessantly and right in your ear is Matthew cheering, his hands on your waist, your back against his chest like it’s no big deal.
You sit down to eat with your friends and it’s one big round table of alcohol, gushing, yelling and laughter. Matthew’s called up to give his speech and he makes sure to walk by you on his way up. “Watch and learn,” he whispers.
You shake your head, roll your eyes, but you’re watching him. You’re watching the way he instantly takes control of the room and radiates this light under the night sky. You’ve got to give it to him. It’s a good speech. From beginning to end, it’s captivating. The emotional cadence in his voice ripples across the room and there is actually, literally a box of tissues being passed around.
He’s applauded by every guest and he immediately runs up to Cole and Hattie to give them a tight hug. He walks over to you and holds the microphone out for you, “Beat that.”
You eye him as he walks off and the giddy smile on your face quickly disappears when you make eye contact with Gina. She pinches her fingers and knocks her hands together, puckering her lips and making kissing sounds.
“Stop it,” you whisper.
You’re not as used to the spotlight as Matthew so when you stand up in front of everyone, you freeze for a moment. You struggle to get the words out. It’s not a contest, but you’re already losing. So you look at Hattie, the one person you are doing all of this for. It makes it a lot easier to just, speak your truth, “Hi. I’m [y/n] and Hattie is my very best friend.”
Hattie’s a mess instantly.
That’s the fun part about being the bride’s best friend. You know all the best parts of her relationship. You also know all the worst parts but those don’t need to be spoken today. You know how it’s made her happier, stronger, glow in a way she never thought possible. You know better than anyone that this is where she’s meant to be and who she’s meant to be here with.
She can hardly wait one second after you finish to run up to you and give you a big hug. She squeezes you so tightly that you think she’ll never, ever let you go. You escort her back to the sweethearts table and throw a smug look towards Matthew’s way. He puts his hands up in surrender. You win.
After a while, when the grandparents and kids have left and the hour for the fun adults has arrived, you’re just buzzed enough to dance. And you do. You let Hattie shake her ass on you a bit and for a while, you’re just girls again. No one’s wife, no one’s employee. Just girls. It wears you. You take a seat just to down the rest of your wine and catch your breath.
“You all danced out?” Matthew asks as he approaches you. He holds out his hand, “Or you got one more left in you?”
You tilt your head, drunkenly smirking at him, “I think I can squeeze you in.”
“Yeah?” he pulls you to your feet and into his arms. “Squeeze me into where?”
You giggle. You shamelessly fall into his chest, “Take me to the dancefloor.”
He does, he lead you right to the center. He puts his hands on the small of your back and cradles your hand against his chest. He breathes in the scent of your hair and sighs.
“I don’t know what I’m going to do once I have to part from you tomorrow.”
“Just put me in your pocket,” you whisper. “Take me to the big city.”
He chuckles, pulls you closer, putting your bodies flush together. “I will, in a heartbeat. Just say the word.”
You grin. You stare into those beautiful eyes of his and inhale the center of his chest and exhale with a soft hum, “The word.”
He smiles. You smile. You take a look around and then you two make your exit.
Off to the side, the bride and groom are slow dancing. The rest of the world has faded away. Though their feet are a bit uncoordinated, everything feels properly in place.
“Sooo,” Hattie puts her nose to his. “You’re thinking the same thing I am, right?”
“Thaaaat we have three more minutes of fun time? You wanna go now?”
She cackles, “No! About Matthew and [y/n].”
“Ohhh, right. Them. You were right. I owe you five bucks.”
“Mhm. For the rest of your life.”
He smiles softly, rubbing her back. He looks around the area and furrows his eyebrows, “Where…are Matthew and [y/n]?”
Hattie giggles, singing, “I know where they are.”
“No…” Cole gasps. “No…you think?”
She shakes her head at him. Sweet, dumb Cole. “Oh you are just so cute!” she kisses his nose.
In the solitude of your tent, Matthew stands behind you and slowly unzips your dress. He plants soft kisses on each spot of your skin as it’s revealed and you hum under your breath at the gentle contact. His hands latch onto the thin straps and pull them over your shoulders. He kisses your neck and runs his hands over your chest as he pushes the dress down your body. All that’s left of you is a strapless bra and seamless panties that he sticks his hands in. You step out of them and turn to face him.
You touch his face and look at him with these hooded eyes, smiling softly as you push his jacket off of his shoulders. You undo the buttons on his shirt and touch all over his exposed chest. He nuzzles his nose into yours as you take off his pants and he falls back on the tiny bed, letting you pull them off his legs.
He stretches out his legs but his feet hang off the edge so he bends his knees, “I don’t think I fit,” he chuckles.
You grin as you casually straddle his lap, running your hands over his arms. “We’ll just have to make you fit,” you whisper.
He gives you the faintest little whimper, leaning in to you with his mouth open. And just like you had meant to last night, finally, you kiss him. You kiss him. You touch his tongue to yours and place your hand on his throat, engulfing his entire mouth in yours. Both of you release these deep, guttural moans and Matthew gasps as you roll your hips on him.
He grips onto your waist, readjusts to get the right angle and you can feel him getting hard between your legs. It's almost juvenile, the way you both get so hot from dry humping. The way your mouths are so hungry that there's no coordination.
There's moments where you go in for his lips and catch his cheek instead and he pushes his face into yours so quickly that he only catches your bottom lip. He goes to grab your hair to keep you in place but he doesn't want to mess it up so he holds the back of your neck. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, take a tight grip of his hair and lean your entire body on his. There, the friction is perfect and you moan directly into his mouth.
Matthew shifts his focus to your jaw, gently nibbling on the skin from your ear to your neck as he unhooks your bra. You whine quietly, rocking your hips against him and leaning your head back to expose your throat. He wants to fucking bite you. He has the quickest impulse to sink his teeth into you but he doesn’t want to leave a mark so his hands land harshly on your ass as he groans in your ear. You gasp, your back arching and you think: fuck this.
You put your hand on his chest and push him back on the bed. He lets you but he whimpers. He wants to be kissing you. Needs to be kissing you. He looks up at you with wide eyes, his jaw dropping when you free his cock from his briefs. He licks his lips, nodding, begging, “Mm…mhm, mhm, mhm, mhm.”
You giggle at him, but that giggle is cut quickly by the ease in which his cock slides into you. You both gasp and he catches you as you fall into his arms. You feel just as good as he thought you would. Better. Even better. You watch his eyes roll to the back of his head and you try to kiss but your mouth are wide open. It’s mainly just heaving breathing and teeth on teeth.
He takes full advantage of the angle in his knees, keeps his hands on your ass to spread you open and push all the way into you. He likes the sound you make so he does it again. Again. Pulling all the way, pushing all the way in. Again, a little deeper. Again, a little harder. Harder and harder until you’re squeaking against each other’s lips uncontrollably, the one thing that’s louder than the sound of his skin slapping into yours.
He looks into your hooded eyes and begs, “Kiss me.”
So you do. You kiss him with a sloppy mouth and once again, there’s no coordination. You’re rocking around the tiny bed so carelessly that it might break. But even then, you wouldn’t stop. It’s hard to breathe. It’s hard to think. You just push yourself back on his cock, meeting him at just the right time that you’re entire body twitches violently.
“N-not…fuck…” you stutter against his lips. “Not…gonna…last…long…like this…mm, fuck.”
And he grins, delighted at the thought of getting you off. So quickly, so easily. Still, he pleads, “Oh…” he bucks his hips up into you. “Can’t we just…m-make it last forever? P-please…please, please, please…”
You shut him up with another kiss. You grab onto his hair and grind on him eagerly, chasing your high for what feels exactly like forever. The way the tension builds first in your thighs and then your belly and radiates throughout your entire body, you can hardly comprehend it. You tighten your grip on his hair and breathe out, “Matthew.”
“[y/n],” he breathes out and it sounds so helpless that you can only reply with a whimper. You increase your speed, your rhythm becomes sloppy but Matthew is rock solid. He cups your face in his hands and repeats, “[y/n].”
“O-oh, fuck. Oh…god…” you latch onto his wrists. You can’t take it anymore, “Mm…” and you come on his cock with a loud and visceral moan straight from the back of your throat. The way your pussy tightens around him has him matching your volume and the kiss you give him is so dirty that he will taste it for weeks.
He doesn’t stop. He fucks you through it until your body is all but convulsing. He only stops to prevent himself from coming inside of you, instead raising your hips to shoot his load all over his stomach. His knees tense up and tighten against you as the weakest groans escape his lips. You hum softly to yourself and you lower yourself down the mattress, licking the mess off his stomach as you make your way back to his lips. He’s stunned but rewards you with a kiss. He wishes the kiss could last forever. He tries his best to make it so.
But you crash on his chest, panting loudly and allowing your body to finally relax. Your head rises and falls with every heavy breath he takes.
“Let’s get married,” he huffs and you laugh, sitting up to look at him. “No?”
“Mm-mm,” you shake your head.
“Ugh…worth a shot.”
It’s so peaceful. A calm after a storm - a hurricane. Until your phone illuminates the dark space and you reach over his body to check the text. It’s from Hattie -
As soon as youre both done, my husband and i would like to make our outro! :)
“Oh, shit!” you exclaim and that’s all Matthew needs to hear.
You both hop up at lightening speed. You somehow get dressed even quicker. You rush out of the tent, nearly tripping over your feet, hand in hand.
“Wait,” Matthew says and when you pause to look at him, he fixes the clip in your hair and then he gives you a kiss. You look back at him with a smile as you run back to the reception.
You catch Hattie and Cole just in time. They are already lined up and ready to go when you two reappear. Matthew grabs Cole’s shoulder and laments, “Sorry about that, dude. I-I got caught up. Sorry.”
“Oh yeah,” Cole smirks as he keeps walking. “I can tell. Your jacket’s on inside out.”
After Matthew remedies that, you two casually clap and cheer as the newlyweds walk through the crowd of excitement. They promptly load themselves up on a golf cart and you watch them disappear into the night.
Matthew sighs, turning to you, “So…I guess our jobs are done for the night.”
You sigh in return, shrugging, “I guess so.”
“You gonna be lonely in that tent tonight?”
“God...” you shake your head. “I hope not.”
And that night, you are far, far from lonely in that tent.
You wake up together. Matthew made himself fit in that bed once again. You get dressed together. You both clean up the tent and step out together. And once again, there’s Gina, catching you in the act. She doesn’t say anything. But when she walks past you two, the tiny smile on her face says it all.
Back at the reception site, Hattie and Cole serve a light breakfast and deliver a toast that is short and sweet. Blah blah blah, thank you all for coming. Blah blah blah, we love you so much. Blah blah blah, we have a plane to Cabo to catch. You don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here!
They go around to say their goodbyes and while Cole is distracted, Hattie intentionally saves you for last. She gives you a long hug, “Missed you last night.”
“Yeah, uh…” you blush. “I am so sorry about that.”
“Oh no, don’t be,” she gives you a quick kiss on the cheek. “It all went according to plan.”
“To-“ you stutter. “Hattie Jane Welsh…”
“Aht-aht!” she grins as she walks away from you to join her husband. She flashes her rings, “Hattie Jane Briggs. I already changed it on instagram and facebook!”
You jaw is dropped in absolute shock and you can’t pick it up. In fact, your mouth is still wide open when Matthew approaches you.
“So, pretty lady, what are you doing after this?” he asks.
“Got a train to catch back home.”
“Oh, a train? How far is the drive?”
“About an hour.”
“I have an hour…” he says. “And a rental car.”
A sweet smile spreads across your face. He mirrors it right back to you. You take hold of your suitcase, step over to him, stand straight up and wrap your hand around his bicep. You’ve had a lot of practice.
“Okay,” you nod. “Let’s go.”
584 notes
·
View notes
Text
Rafayel Loves Musty Pussies! [ Rafayel x Fem!Reader 18+]
Summary: We all know that Rafayel, our beloved lemurian has a scent kinkーbut to what extent? The answer is yes. Rafayel's scent kink extends beyond perfume. CW: Degenerate and desperate Rafayel, cunnilingus, scent kink, begging, patheticness, and whimpering.
Rafayel loves shoving his face into musty pussies. He regularily spreads your legs and lays between them, taking large inhales between your legs.
Rafayel purposefully tells you to not shower for 2 days or more because he loves it when you smell 2000 x more pungent. He doesn't want to smell and taste clean skin and a hint of soap. No, he wants to smell you and taste only you.
The mustier you are, the more Rafayel whimpers in pleasure, because to him, it's your pheromones that drive him insane. He just wantsーno, he needs you so badly, and this right hereーyouーare his for the taking.
Rafayel would spread your pussy lips wide open and make sure every crevice is traced with his tongue, with the occasional:
"Mmfh... bodyguard, you taste so good."
"Such a good girl for me."
"Thats right, bodyguard, relax... just a bit more."
"I need you to sit on my face, please... I need you so badly."
And you do just that. You hover on Rafayel's face, to much of his displeasureーhe grunted as he grasped onto your thighs, yanking you down. He didn't want a pathetic hover. Rafayel wanted you to suffocate him. He needed his oxygen blocked and his mouth and nose absolutely smothered with your juicesーyour scent.
This was paradise for Rafayel. God, oh god, he loved how your thighs hugged him on each side of your face. Rafayel's face was buried between your legs, his tongue darted in and outof your pussy as he begged for more. He was desperate, needy, and couldn't get enough of your taste.
Rafayel let out a needy moan, "F-fuck... body guard," his voice was muffled as he clenched his eyes, slurping up your essence, "I need more. I need you to come all over my face". He was a mess an absolute mess. A whore for you.
"Mmfh...," Rafayel's hips bucked forward into nothing, getting hard just by being under you. His cock was leaking with pre-cum as Rafayel loved everything. The taste. The saltiness. The bitterness. The smell. He loved it. He loved it all.
Rafayel's arms wrapped tightly around your thighs, forcing you to stay in place as he lapped at your pussy like a starving dog. He held you still when you squirmed on top of him. As much as he wanted to use him as though he were your toy, he wanted to make you cum all by yourself. He wanted to you to cum from just his tongue. Rafayel loved the way you trembled on top of him. It was just more motivation because he wanted you to feel just what you make him feel.
But as time went by, the strain on Rafayel's cock was getting overwhelming, 'I need it, bodyguard, I need it so bad," He whined, his voice cracking with desperation. Rafayel looked up, meeting your gaze, and he knew he was pathetic. His eyes were teary as the bottom half of his face was soaked in your juices. His cock was flushed red and cum was dripping down from it. Rafayel needed you to touch him. He needed you to want him. To need him. To need his face, his cock, his everything. He needed your soul to need him.
"Please, please, plese," Rafayel begged, his voice was barely a whisper. "Make me cum, bodyguard... Make me come with you."
A/N: Testing the waters rn because I have a really really degenerate raf draft that's begging to be written.
If you like otome games, including Love and Deepspace, you should join Linkon Lounge! A discord server that's LGBTQ+ friendly (only serving those who are 18+) where we all can share our interests, talk to roleplaying bots (Caleb, Rafayel, Zayne, Xavier, and Sylus), and have fun game, movie, and stream nights where we stream games and/or cards that we pulled that others want to see. It would be super fun to have you as a member of our server. Click here to Join Linkon Lounge!
MASTERLIST
#love and deepspace#lads#lnds#rafayel#qi yu#love and deepspace rafayel#lads rafayel#lnds rafayel#love and deepspace x reader#lads x reader#lnds x reader#rafayel x reader#qi yu x reader#love and deepspace rafayel x reader#lads rafayel x reader#lnds rafayel x reader#rafayel x reader smut#love and deepspace rafayel x reader smut#lads rafayel x reader smut#lnds rafayel x reader smut#qi yu x reader smut#love and deepspace smut#lads smut#lnds smut#love and deepspace x reader smut#lads x reader smut#lnds x reader smut#love and deepspace qi yu x reader#love and deepspace qi yu#lads qi yu
475 notes
·
View notes
Text
at the end of the day
summary. you and astarion have your first genuine fight and the other companions try to patch things between the two of you.
warnings. comfort/fluff
pairing. Astarion x GN!Reader
a/n. have not written an actual one-shot in a while omg,...
Breakfast is eaten in silence. One that's been extending far past its welcome date now.
Shadowheart grips her fork, feeling the flitting glances exchanged amongst the others around the table while she maintains focus on the two individuals sitting on opposite sides of the table. Your eyes remain trained on the bread sitting on your plate and Astarion swirls his chalice aimlessly in his hand, neither of you even acknowledging the presence of the other. The cleric grimaces as you stand suddenly, your chair scraping against the floor as you do so.
"Thanks for the food, Gale," is all you mutter before leaving the room with your plate in hand. Astarion rises from his own chair in an instant, huffing.
"I must take my leave as well."
When both parties have left the room, all five other companions stare at one another in a knowing silence. Lae'zel is the only one who doesn't seem the slightest bothered. Wyll is the one to break the uncomfortable tension in the air, clearing his throat after Lae'zel nearly bites her fork off. "I see they're still amidst their lovers' quarrel."
"What are they even fighting about?" Karlach groans, slumping into her chair with an exasperated groan.
"It was nice the first few days to have a good night's sleep without their incessant noises," Shadowheart grumbles, shoving an egg into her mouth. "But now, this is arguable worse."
"Should we...aid them somehow?" Gale blinks.
Lae'zel snorts. "They're adults, we don't need to coddle them, wizard."
Despite her words, they do find themselves a few hours later in unanimous agreement to do something to ease the unfamiliar dryness of the camp dynamic. It comes in multiple attempts. And to say few---if not all--were unsuccessful, is an understatement.
First, when out in the woods, Gale makes an effort to spark a conversation that would prompt both you and Astarion to join in. You nod occasionally, though lost in thought, while Astarion promptly ignores whatever he's talking about. It's a pathetic attempt that has nobody but himself babbling away, which earns a grunt from Shadowheart. It's enough to shut him up, thankfully.
Second, Karlach uses her uncanny ability to lift someone's spirits. Jokes, dancing, all that jazz. Even booze. She urges you to let loose, but all you do in response is smile at her apologetically while Astarion just glares off into space. Another failed attempt. Lae'zel pats Karlach on the shoulder.
Wyll tells stories of his monster hunting days which you usually take an interest in. Astarion naturally listens to what a monster hunter does when he's not hunting monsters, but that's all it is. You and Astarion only listen. There are quips and lingering questions, but neither of you ever direct it at one another, or bother to add into the conversation either. The sheer amount of teasing questions has Wyll's head spinning by the end of it. Lae'zel rolls her eyes.
Just when things couldn't possibly get any worse, you're ambushed. It's a small horde of goblins---nothing beyond your capabilities, but your companions do take some small scratches here and there. Somehow, though he rarely does, as he prefers staying behind you or Karlach, Astarion does too. And despite his efforts to hide it behind his back, you also didn't miss the cut lining Astarion's arm to his elbow. It's not deep by any means, and if it were your own injury, you'd likely just brush it off.
But it's on his skin, and he'd gotten it when taking a hit from an arrow that should've cut your arm.
Blasted hells, you think, as he shrugs it off. Even when you can clearly see him clenching his jaw to bite away the pain.
If battle won't be the end of you, you're sure your idiot of a boyfriend might be instead.
"Come here, you fool," you mutter, holding out your hand. He doesn't even consider the fact that you're mad at one another and immediately extends his arm to you. Habits, you suppose.
You mumble out a weak scolding as he watches you wrap the wound through his lashes. He shivers as you lather a cool ointment on the cut, hoping it's enough to soothe the pain before Shadowheart's recovered enough to properly heal him. He lifts a pale hand to your face, and for a moment, you think he might pinch you. Instead, he runs a thumb across your cheek, spreading the ointment on a scratch you hadn't even realized was there in the first place.
You meet his eyes, your own softening as he cups his fingertips around your cheek. The way he looks at you is overwhelming sometimes---like you're the only thing he gives a damn about in this world---but it's a welcome feeling when he hasn't even looked you in the eye this way in days now. For a moment, you realize you don't even remember why the two of you were mad at one another in the first place.
A laugh threatens to escape your throat. How childish, truly.
And then he flicks your forehead, unable to help the grin etching onto his lips when you blink in surprise.
"That was for making me sleep by myself for three nights."
You swat at his arm while he dodges each of your lazy attempts to get back at him. And though the two of you continue bickering, unbeknownst to you, you have an audience a good bit away, watching you return to your old ways after making them worry for so long.
"What a sight it is--to see young people in love again," Wyll smiles.
Shadowheart deadpans. "Isn't Astarion nearing 240?"
"Who cares?" Karlach shrugs, slinging her arms on either side of her companions with a toothy beam. "What matters is that they made up...and we didn't even have to help them."
#is this kinda ooc idek atp#astarion ancunin#baldur's gate 3#baldur's gate astarion#astarion x tav#bg3 astarion#astarion x reader#astarion#feyascorner#bg3 x reader#astarion x oc#baldurs gate 3
1K notes
·
View notes
Note
Hello! Thank you for your service omg ur single handedly carrying Sylus nation‼️🙏🏼
Can I request a scenario where reader (who isn’t MC) has been a long term situationship of Sylus, like they’re very much in love but refuse to commit because of the dangerous nature of their work in the N109 zone, but reader really hopes they’ll end up together, only for all her hopes to come crashing down when suddenly MC shows up and Sylus becomes really neglectful towards reader, only prioritising MC until one day he doesn’t accompany reader to one onichynus’s deals and it goes horribly wrong with the reader getting hurt/abducted. Angst to fluff pls a happy ending with Sylus coming to his senses 😮💨
when you become his second priority
tags-angst with eventual fluff,mentions of violence
The night sky over Onychinus’s sprawling cityscape was studded with stars, casting a subtle glow through the towering high-rises.
Sylus had suggested the two of you head out for a mission, a deal with some Onychinus contacts. As usual, you couldn’t resist tagging along, always thrilled to be close to him in his world.
Sylus, tall and intimidating as ever, glanced down at you with a glimmer of amusement in his red eyes. You could tell he was ready to take control of the situation like he always did, exuding confidence and calm in a way that made you feel safe, even in the darkest parts of his world. He looked over at you, his eyes softening slightly as he murmured, “You ready, kitten?”
“Of course, I’m with you” you replied with a grin, bouncing a little as you slid into the passenger seat of one of his luxurious cars. Your bubbly energy was contagious; he always acted as if he wasn’t affected by it but you’d caught him smirking more than once.
Tonight, he rolled his eyes in mock exasperation but his hand settled on yours, holding it a little too long to be casual.
As he drove through the city, you admired the skyline, sharing random stories about your day and small, happy details about your favorite things.
Sylus listened, nodding occasionally, a slight smirk on his face, though his eyes stayed mostly on the road. At a red light, he finally turned, letting his gaze linger on you. “You know, sweetie, you’d be a lot safer if you didn’t join me on these things” he said, but there was a softness in his voice, a hint of protectiveness beneath his usual hard edge.
You gave a playful pout. “Then who’d keep you company and make you laugh?” you teased, reaching over to ruffle his hair lightly. Sylus gave an exaggerated sigh, though you could see his lips twitch, fighting off a smile.
When you arrived at the Onychinus base, the atmosphere shifted. The bustling headquarters buzzed with energy and you could feel the tension as the meeting began.
Sylus’s demeanor turned serious, his attention sharp and unwavering as he led the deal. You watched him, entranced by his confidence and poise. His eyes, intense and calculating, scanned the room, noting every movement and gesture of those around him. It was moments like these that reminded you why he was so respected—and feared.
The deal itself moved forward without any issues but you stayed close, offering your support however you could. Sylus kept one arm loosely draped around you, like a silent reminder that you were his, his “kitten” in this dangerous world. Every now and then, he’d murmur a soft “Stay close, sweetie” his voice laced with the quiet authority you’d come to adore.
At one point, the meeting wrapped up and you were alone again with Sylus in the hallway leading back to the car. As you walked side-by-side, you took his hand, squeezing it gently and looked up at him with a playful grin. “See? We make a great team.”
Sylus chuckled lowly, his fingers tightening around yours. “Careful, kitten” he murmured, his voice dropping to a tone that sent a shiver down your spine. “I might just start believing that.”
He leaned closer, brushing his lips against your forehead with a rare tenderness that he’d only ever shown to you. Moments like these made you wonder if there was something deeper between you both. But for now, you were happy in this undefined space, enjoying his closeness, his rare softness and the way he let his guard down just enough to show you how much you meant to him.
For tonight, you were his and he was yours in the only way he knew how to be and as you laughed and chatted on the drive back, you couldn’t have known how precious that laughter would soon become.
the next morning the café was small and tucked into a quiet corner of the city, with floor-to-ceiling windows that let in soft morning light and gave the place a warm, cozy glow.
You felt an excited shiver as Sylus guided you in, his hand on your lower back, a gentle but firm presence that never failed to make you feel special. The café wasn’t his usual scene but he seemed relaxed, perhaps indulging your love for quieter, more intimate places.
He glanced around, then met your eyes, his mouth quirking into a smirk. “This place…suits you” he murmured, pulling out a chair for you. “Sweet, but a little chaotic.”
You laughed, sticking your tongue out at him. “I’d say the same about you” you teased, settling into the chair. He rolled his eyes but took the seat opposite you, resting his elbows on the table, leaning in close. His gaze, as usual, felt intense, even as his expression softened.
“You’re in a bratty mood today, aren’t you?” he remarked, voice low and slightly teasing.
“Only because you make it so easy” you replied with a smile, reaching across the table to gently tap his hand. “So, what’s the plan? You’re the one who dragged me out here.”
His smirk grew, and without saying a word, he raised a finger to get the barista’s attention. When she arrived, he placed the most absurd order, one that left you wide-eyed: every single flavor of coffee they had on the menu. You tried to protest, laughing as you looked from him to the poor barista, but he only shrugged, looking unbothered.
“You said you always wanted to try them all” he said, leaning back in his seat, arms folded. “So go ahead. Indulge.”
“Oh my god, Sylus!” You felt a mix of embarrassment and excitement. “You know I was joking about that, right?”
He raised an eyebrow. “You don’t joke about things you want, kitten. Not with me.”
The coffees started arriving, filling up your small table with an assortment of steaming mugs, each one a different shade and aroma. Sylus watched as you eagerly tried each, laughing when you made a face at the overly bitter or strangely flavored ones and taking note of the ones that made you hum with satisfaction. Occasionally, he’d reach out, taking a sip of one of the cups himself, then giving you his quiet, amused approval if he liked it.
After a while, you found yourself leaning across the table, sharing sips from the same cup, your laughter mingling in the cozy warmth of the café. You watched him, noticing the rare moments where his features softened, and his usual guarded expression gave way to something gentler.
“Did you always know you’d be leading Onychinus?” you asked, a little more curious now that you’d settled into the warmth of the moment.
He leaned back, tracing the edge of his cup with one finger, his gaze drifting. “I didn’t know. But it wasn’t like I had a choice.” His eyes found yours again, something dark but honest in them. “The things you don’t choose often become the things you’re best at.”
You tilted your head, studying him. “Well, I’m glad you didn’t have a choice” you replied softly. “Otherwise, who’d be here buying me twenty coffees?”
He chuckled, a genuine laugh that you rarely heard. “You’d find some other poor fool, I’m sure” he said, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. But his hand moved to cover yours, his thumb brushing over your knuckles.
Just as you were about to respond, his phone buzzed, and his gaze darkened. He glanced at the screen, and for a split second, his expression changed—hardened into something unreadable. He sat up, pulling his hand away from yours and the warmth that had been between you seemed to evaporate in an instant.
You tried to catch his eye, feeling a flicker of unease. “Everything okay?”
“It’s just an…old friend” he muttered, voice suddenly cool and distant. He stood up, turning his back to you as he answered the call, his voice low and strained in a way you’d never heard before.
You couldn’t make out much of what he was saying, but you heard the shift in his tone—calculated, restrained, almost careful. It was a stark contrast to the teasing, soft-spoken Sylus you’d been with just moments before. He kept glancing out the window, one hand shoved deep in his pocket, the other clutching his phone tightly. His words became hushed, tense, as if he was guarding some important secret.
Your mind raced with questions but you pushed them down, trying to respect his privacy. Still, a pang of worry settled in your chest as he finally ended the call, his posture stiff as he turned back to you. The usual warmth in his eyes was absent, replaced by a distant, almost guarded look.
“Sorry about that” he said, his tone flat, almost dismissive, as he pocketed his phone.
You forced a smile, hoping to ease the sudden tension. “No problem. Everything okay?”
“Nothing to worry about.” He gave a faint smile but it didn’t reach his eyes. He seemed distracted and as much as you wanted to believe him, there was a nagging feeling that something had shifted.
It had been days since you’d last seen Sylus. The texts you’d sent were sparse on replies—short, curt answers that only seemed to grow colder each time. You told yourself he was busy, wrapped up in some new mission for Onychinus but an uneasy feeling had settled deep in your chest. You remembered the way he’d brushed you off in the café after that mysterious phone call, the way he’d shut down, closing himself off as if you were suddenly a stranger.
With the next Onychinus deal approaching, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong. Usually, Sylus would be the one preparing you, going over every little detail so that you’d be safe. But this time, there had been nothing—no message, no warning, no instructions. The silence weighed on you, suffocating, until finally, you couldn’t bear it anymore.
You found yourself standing outside his office door, hesitating. The hall was eerily quiet, an atmosphere that felt darker than it had ever been. You pushed the door open slowly, your heart pounding with a mixture of hope and dread.
Inside, Sylus stood near his desk, leaning in close to a woman you’d never seen before. She had an aura of quiet confidence, her gaze sharp, as if she were sizing him up even as they talked. Their heads were close together, too close. She said something, her tone low and laced with a teasing edge and Sylus chuckled—a sound that sent a chill down your spine. It was the kind of laugh he used to share with you.
You swallowed, forcing yourself to step forward. “Sylus?” your voice cracked, the warmth you usually brought into his space muted by the weight of everything unsaid.
Sylus straightened, his expression darkening the moment he saw you. The easy humor that had filled his face just seconds before vanished, replaced by a cold, impassive mask. The woman beside him glanced at you, her eyes glinting with a kind of curiosity, as though she were sizing you up, wondering what your place in Sylus’s life could possibly be.
“You’re busy” you managed to say, fighting to keep your tone light. “I just thought—I thought we could talk about the next mission.”
He looked at you for a long, silent moment, his gaze empty of the warmth you’d come to expect, replaced by an iciness that felt almost cruel. “I didn’t ask you to come here” he said, his voice low and cutting.
You took a step back, stunned. “Sylus, I…I just wanted to help. You always said I could be useful—”
“You should learn to know your place” he interrupted, his words sharp enough to cut through your heart. He didn’t look away, didn’t flinch. His gaze was steely, indifferent, as though you were nothing more than an inconvenience, a shadow he hadn’t meant to let linger.
It felt like the floor had fallen out from under you. “My place?” you echoed, trying to keep your voice steady even as it threatened to break. “Sylus, what’s going on? You’ve been distant… I thought we—” You stopped yourself, swallowing back the words, but the damage was done.
Sylus’s gaze flicked to the woman beside him, who watched the exchange with an amused smirk, her arms crossed as if she were enjoying every moment of this. He turned back to you, his eyes devoid of any kindness, any of the softness he’d shown you only days ago. “You thought wrong.”
Your throat tightened and the warmth that had once filled your shared moments now felt like a distant memory, slipping through your fingers. You forced yourself to nod, to keep your head up even as your heart shattered with each second of his cold stare. Without another word, you turned and left, not wanting him to see the tears that threatened to spill over, the silent pain you’d carry alone as you walked away from the one person who’d ever made you feel whole.
The drive home felt like a blur, headlights and streetlights passing in a haze as you wiped away tears that wouldn’t stop. Your hands gripped the steering wheel, knuckles turning white, as your mind raced with everything that had just happened. It was like you couldn’t make sense of it; every memory of Sylus’s familiar warmth and teasing words felt out of reach, replaced by his cold, indifferent face and that harsh tone. His words, “Know your place” echoed in your head, hitting you harder each time you thought of them. You couldn’t understand. Had you pushed him too far? Had he been pretending all along?
The question lingered, gnawing at you as the car rolled down the empty roads leading home. By the time you reached your place, you were exhausted, the adrenaline replaced by a deep, hollow ache.
The next morning, after another sleepless night, you found yourself staring at his contact on your phone, debating whether to call him. The memory of his sharp tone still stung but the confusion was unbearable. You couldn’t just let things stay like this.
Finally, you pressed call, holding your breath as the phone rang. When he picked up, his voice was casual, almost dismissive, as if the tension from yesterday had never happened.
“Yeah?” he answered, sounding distracted. There was no warmth, but there was none of that anger, either.
“Hey” you managed, your voice wavering slightly. “I… I wanted to talk about yesterday.”
“Yesterday?” he repeated, his tone barely interested. “Is something wrong?”
Your heart sank. He was acting like it hadn’t happened at all, like you were the one imagining things. “I just thought—after what you said, I thought maybe we could… clear things up.”
He let out a long sigh, almost like he was bored. “Look, I have things to take care of. If that’s all, I have to go.”
Your grip tightened around the phone, and you felt a chill run through you as he continued talking, casual, unaffected, as if he hadn’t torn into you less than 24 hours ago. He ended the call with a brief “Take care” leaving you standing there with the silence of the empty line.
It was like a stranger had replaced him overnight and the warmth you’d felt was now a painful memory, drifting further out of reach.
The night of the Onychinus deal was bitterly cold and a dense mist clung to the riverbank, muting every sound but the rush of water. You had been hoping—secretly, quietly—that maybe Sylus would show up, that his absence would somehow break and you’d see him standing there with that familiar smirk, ready to tackle the mission together. But the minutes ticked by and the waiting grew heavier, settling like a weight in your chest until the deal began without him.
but in an instant things went horribly wrong, spiraling out of control faster than you could react. You held on as long as you could, fighting with everything you had, but there were too many of them and you were alone. A sharp, searing pain was the last thing you remembered before everything went black, the sound of rushing water filling your senses as you were tossed into the cold, merciless depths of the river.
When the news reached Sylus, it felt like a blow to the chest, robbing him of breath. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing—the thought of you alone, vulnerable, facing the dangers he’d promised to shield you from. His mind raced, replaying every interaction, every cold word he’d thrown at you and the realization clawed at him with an intensity he hadn’t expected. Guilt twisted in his stomach, a relentless ache, as he thought of the way he’d pushed you aside, how he’d let you walk away, hurt and confused and for what?
He moved quickly, barely registering the world around him as he reached the river, scanning the dark waters until he found you, still and pale, lying half-submerged on the riverbank. His heart pounded, a surge of panic piercing through his usual composure as he dropped to his knees, pulling you into his arms with a desperation he hadn’t felt in years.
“Kitten…” His voice cracked, the endearments he’d so easily tossed at you before now carrying a weight they’d never held before. He brushed damp hair from your face, his hands shaking as he checked for a pulse. Relief flooded him when he felt the faint, steady beat beneath his fingertips, but it did nothing to quell the terror that gnawed at him.
“Why the hell did you go alone?” he whispered, his voice trembling with guilt and grief. “You should have known better than to… God, this is all my fault.” He held you closer, pressing his forehead to yours as if his touch alone could bring you back from the brink. Regret crashed over him like a tidal wave, every moment he’d ignored you, every cold word he’d thrown at you haunting him as he realized just how deeply he’d driven you away.
“I’m so sorry, kitten” he murmured, the words spilling out, raw and unfiltered. “I was stupid. I was a fool. You didn’t deserve any of it.” His fingers brushed over your face, tracing the lines of your features as if committing them to memory and he swore to himself that he’d never let you go again.
#love and deepspace#lnds sylus#love and deepspace sylus#l&ds sylus#lads sylus#sylus#sylus x reader#sylus x you
367 notes
·
View notes