#ruby's the bartender probably

[anto-pops]

Midnight Rendezvous - Sylus x Female!Reader

Summary: An unmistakable tension has always existed between you and Sylus, and despite trying, you’ve never been able to make much sense of it. He’s haughty, arrogant, and too attractive for his own good. After he intervenes and saves you from a questionable situation during a girl’s night out, he whisks you away to his house despite your protests. You want to hate him— you want to be mad at him— but it’s increasingly difficult to fight against your desires, and before long… you stop trying. 

Alternatively summarized as you and Sylus having steamy, passionate sex for the first time. 

Word Count: 13.9k

Warnings: 18+, explicit sexual content, rough sex, size difference

Full fic can be found here on Ao3 (with more diverse tags)

The Midnight Bar was, for all intents and purposes, an eclectic melting pot for all of Linkon’s denizens. With its colorful strobe lights and intense, pounding music that poured from the open doorway, it beckoned to any and all passersby, tempting them to set foot past the threshold and lose themselves in the sea of bodies that congregated on the dance floor. More often than not, you dismissed your repetitive, fleeting inclinations to come here for a night of fun. It was easier to justify your homebody tendencies with countless excuses that all pertained to work. But not tonight. 

No, tonight you wanted to let loose. You wanted to cast aside your worries and obligations for a few hours, to have a few fruity cocktails that you knew would have you on your ass tomorrow. You wanted to dance until your feet throbbed, until your back ached, until your ears rang and drowned out the never ending cacophony of concerns that plagued your mind.

Life was… complicated. You wanted to forget about it all for once. You wanted to be selfish. 

Tara had mercifully agreed to accompany you to the club. Phrasing it as a ‘girl’s night out’ had certainly helped matters, and her light-hearted aura would do wonders for your fluctuating emotions. It was easy to stay level headed when she was around, and you found yourself wondering if the data analyst was even aware of her influence. 

From your rooted position on the dance floor, you could see Tara at the bar waiting dutifully for the drinks she’d offered to buy, chatting with the burly bartender all the while. You knew you had no business drinking anymore– you’d had three of those strawberry whatever’s already– but the night called for it, and your clammy palms craved the chilled feeling of the thick, cocktail glass more than was probably healthy. The steady ebb and flow of the music had you moving in sync with the crowd around you flawlessly; your hips swayed, your arms languidly rose above your head, and your eyes fluttered shut as you rolled your head back to toss a few strands of hair out of your face. 

Nothing else existed to you in that moment, and you were more than willing to ride the brainless high for a while longer. Wanderers, Grandma and Caleb, The Hunter’s Association, your heart condition… all of it was inconsequential. Every thought that entered your mind dissipated into nothing just as quickly as it appeared, and the last thing you planned to do was squander a second of the reprieve. 

That is, until a warm, broad hand appeared on your waist. 

Your eyes flew open at the same time you looked over your shoulder, and your field of view was instantly obscured by a familiar chest clad in a black and red button-up shirt. A smokey, almost spicy cologne flooded your senses, and you recognized the scent even before you craned your neck back to meet Sylus’ imposing gaze. He looked the same as always; annoyingly attractive. His pale hair was effortlessly combed off his forehead to showcase those ruby-red eyes that had once imbued you with a healthy dose of fear. Now though, the sight of them only stoked the flames of rebellion within you. 

What the hell was he doing in Linkon City? Why was he here of all places? 

“All this time and I only ever had you pegged as an indoor cat,” his sultry voice reverberated against you as he bent down to speak directly against your ear, and much to your dismay, you shivered involuntarily. “You never fail to surprise me, kitten.” 

On shaky legs, you managed to step out of Sylus’ reach, his fingers trailing across your hip until you were far enough away that his hand fell back to his side. His expression was the usual smug variant you typically saw plastered to his face, and he cocked his head to the side as he took in your disheveled appearance. For whatever reason, your confidence from earlier seemed to vanish completely, and you found yourself feeling incredibly self-conscious having him see you like this. There wasn’t a doubt in your mind that you looked… messy. The thin sheen of sweat on your face had your hair clinging to your cheeks for dear life, and the thrum of liquor in your veins warmed you so thoroughly that you were confident you were flushed from head to toe. 

Out of everyone that could have possibly crossed your path tonight, why did it have to be him? You would have preferred that Zayne walked in to chastise you for your poor life choices rather than the puffed up, Adonis-incarnate before you now. Stupid Sylus with his stupid, attractive smile and his stupid perfect body. 

Having stared at him for long enough, you mercifully didn’t slur your words when you bit out, “What are you doing here?” 

“I think I’m the one who should be asking you that, Miss Hunter.” He easily closed the minuscule distance between the two of you with half a step, gingerly putting the back of his hand against your forehead to gauge your temperature. You swatted the appendage away and scowled, your irritation rising when he smirked in response to the motion. “What will people say when they hear that Linkon’s valiant defender is drunk in the club on a Thursday night? Have you finally tossed away your self-imposed restrictions to join the rest of society in debauchery?” 

“I’m not drunk,” you retorted, and the dry look Sylus shot you conveyed just how willing he was to believe you. “I’m not! I’m just having a bit of fun. I don’t work tomorrow, so Tara and I decided to have a girl’s night out. Which means you can’t be here.” 

“Can’t I? Or will you run to the nearest police officer and tell them that the leader of Onychinus showed face at the Midnight Bar? I didn’t think you had it in you, sweetie.” 

To hear him even suggest such a thing made your stomach sink into the floor, and you stood up straight as you nervously glanced around the room to make sure no one had heard him so boldly announcing his title. “Quiet down! I swear it’s like you want to be caught. I wouldn’t do that, I just– why are you even here? Shouldn’t you be at home?” 

At home clearly meant the N109 Zone, but Sylus picked up on your shrouded speech well enough. He fluidly shifted to allow a cluster of younger girls to dart past him through the crowd, but his eyes never wavered from yours. “Why else would I deign to grace Linkon City with my presence? I’m here on business. It’s since concluded, but I wanted to grab a drink. I wasn’t expecting to find you in the middle of the dance floor all by yourself.” 

Your tipsy brain was slow to process all of his information, the most prudent of which had to do with who he was discussing business with in this part of the city. You didn’t even bother to ask, though. Sylus could avoid your questions like he was born to do it, and you were painfully aware of how much he loved to goad you. Better to let the matter rest… for now. 

You crossed your arms over your chest– suddenly acutely aware of the plunging neckline of your dress– and did your best to sound firm. “Well, don’t stop on my account. Go get your drink so I can go back to what I was doing.” 

Those eyes of his were predatory in every sense of the word. You may as well have been naked with how vulnerable you felt on the receiving end of his unrelenting stare. “And leave you all alone here? Perish the thought.” 

Right on cue, you spotted Tara’s familiar head of hair bobbing and weaving through the crowd, both of her arms raised to protect the integrity of the two cocktails she held from the ever shifting sea of bodies. You instantly relaxed at the sight of her, and if Sylus’s raised brow was anything to go by, he noticed your change in demeanor almost immediately. He glanced over his shoulder in time to spot Tara emerging from the throng of bodies, one of the drinks in her hands already outstretched towards you. 

“The wait was crazy, but the bartender was really nice!” She had to shout over the roar of the music, an easygoing smile already playing on her lips. You took the offered beverage from her while she continued, “He gave me his employee discount for both of the drinks. I think he liked–”

You knew the exact moment Tara noticed the six foot two giant towering over you, her brown eyes becoming comically wide as she shifted her weight to look up at Sylus. Recognition flashed across her face, and for a brief moment you felt a genuine surge of panic. But then her expression smoothed out, and she gently patted Sylus’ shoulder in a friendly greeting. 

“You’re Skye, right? It’s been forever! What are you doing here?” 

Skye? You were confused for all of two seconds until you remembered the one and only time Tara had ever met Sylus; at the hotel all those weeks ago during your team building exercise. You thought he had been pretending to be a fruit vendor, up until he let you know that he would order more of the watermelon served there that you loved so much, cluing you in on the fact that he had some kind of dealings with the establishment. The enigma of a man seemed to have his fingers in damn near every pie in Linkon and the N109 Zone. 

Was nowhere safe from his influence? Honestly… 

The conversation between your two acquaintances had continued in the midst of your reminiscing, and Sylus pinned you with a knowing look, which brought yet another scowl to your face. “I’m just passing through. I happened to see Miss Hunter over here looking incredibly lonely, so I decided I’d come and say hello.”

Liar. “I already told you I was here for a girl’s night out. As you can see, the girls are back together and in the middle of something.”

Tara’s glassy eyes lit up as the worst idea imaginable came to mind. “I don’t mind if you want to hang out with us, Skye. You can be one of the girls for the night if you’d like.” 

The giggle that slipped out of Tara spoke volumes of her inebriated state, and you opted to blame all the alcohol for giving her enough courage to invite a borderline stranger into your circle. If she knew the truth about the man standing mere inches away from her, you knew her tone would change in an instant. Thankfully though, Sylus interjected before you got the chance to, seemingly on the same page as you for once. 

“Thank you for the invite, but I can’t linger tonight. You two have your fun, I’ll be at the bar for a bit before I need to head out. The fruit business never sleeps, I’m afraid.”

The ease with which he lied out of his ass was something that needed to be studied by professionals, you were certain. Still, you were grateful that he was taking pity on you and excusing himself, though you had to admit you were… surprised by it. The Sylus you knew wouldn’t turn his nose up at a chance to taunt you and keep you on your toes. Even though he had revealed sides of himself to you that you hadn’t expected, at the end of the day, Sylus was an instigator at his core. 

Red eyes glittering with mirth met yours for the briefest of moments before the Onychinus leader turned on his heel to head for the bar, and the crowd of people that surrounded the three of you seemed to part for him effortlessly. Countless heads turned to watch Sylus as he went, women and men alike staring after him with varying degrees of attraction and envy written across their faces. You could hardly blame them. 

Men more than likely wanted to be him, and women no doubt wanted to be with him. He seemed to have that effect on everyone he crossed paths with. 

“Is there something going on between you two?” 

Your head swiveled back towards Tara so fast, the movement practically gave you whiplash. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

She playfully shoved your shoulder, which only succeeded in pushing herself away from you as she stumbled back a step. No more drinks for her, you thought to yourself. “Oh come on,” she drawled. “The tension between you and him is thick enough to cut with a knife. Plus the way he stares at you? I would melt if I was on the receiving end of those eyes.”

Thoroughly fed up with the conversation already, you simply shook your head and brought your drink to your lips, your eyes unconsciously seeking Sylus out. He was exactly where he said he would be; at the bar with a glass already pinched between his long, lithe fingers. How he had gotten a drink so fast, you didn’t know, and you furrowed your brows in confusion at the same time his gaze zeroed in on you from across the room. He raised his beverage to you and tipped his head forward in a leisurely manner, but you only gave him a nonplussed blink in response before looking away. 

“Exhibit A,” Tara tactfully pointed out when you returned to paying attention to her. “What would be the harm? He’s handsome, he’s got to be smart with all the business deals he’s involved in, he’s polite. He could be good for you if you gave him a chance.” 

“Tara, you have no idea what you’re talking about. He’s–” you cut yourself off, trying and failing to come up with a justification that didn’t out him as the head of a massive crime organization. In the end you settled for, “He’s a complicated guy. Can we just forget about it? Please?” 

“Fine, fine,” she waved off your pleading and took a hearty sip of her drink, motioning for you to do the same. “I’ll let it slide this once, but don’t think for one second that I’m dropping the subject forever. Anyways, do you think the DJ is taking requests?” 

Thankfully it didn’t take you long to fall back into your previously upbeat mood. The steady supply of alcohol and the rancorous thrum of your heartbeat in your ears certainly helped matters, and when the song Tara had requested finally came on over the pounding speakers, you shed the remainder of your inhibitions and downed the rest of your drink to free up your hands and dance wildly. It took a herculean effort not to glance back to the bar to see if Sylus was still perched on the stool in the corner, but your willpower won out in the end as you swayed your hips to the tempo of the dark, seductive music. 

Lost in the sea of bodies around you, your senses were overwhelmed with all the different sights, sounds, and smells that surrounded you. The tang of everyone’s sweat mixed together wasn’t altogether unpleasant, and the sickly sweet taste of the lingering cocktail on your lips had you wetting them as red strobe lights darted overhead. Heat from everyone packed in tight next to one another had sweat dripping down your brow, your chest, your back— so you dexterously gathered your hair in one hand to lift off of your neck to offer some reprieve. 

Tara was a blur in the corner of your eye, but you still knew she was somewhere in front of you. That was how you knew the hand on the nape of your neck wasn’t hers, and the absence of Sylus’ trademark scent told you that it wasn’t him, either. 

Ambushed by an errant hand for the second time in one night, you were quick to spin around and shove the stranger away. It was a man– an unfamiliar one at that– who looked all too put out to have been so harshly rejected within the first five seconds of trying. His hair was so black that underneath the club’s technicolored lights, it looked blue. Pale green eyes were narrowed in confusion at you, though you noticed how he immediately attempted to school his expression once you’d turned around. 

“Hey,” he called over the thrumming base of the music. “Want to dance?”

Suddenly bashful at having been so harsh, you did your best to ease up your defensive stance and allowed for a polite smile to play on your lips while you shook your head. “Thank you, but no thanks. I’m here with my friend.” 

Apparently being nice wasn’t going to work, because the stranger stepped close enough to sling his arms across your and Tara’s shoulders, and with the brief look the two of you shared, you could tell neither one of you was particularly thrilled about it. “The more the merrier! Why don’t you two come over to my booth in the corner? I’m sure my friends would love to meet you.”

Calmly but firmly, you grabbed for the man’s hand to unsling it from around your neck, taking a small step away from him as you reached for Tara. “No thank you, we’re good–”

His hand shot out quickly, and you blamed the alcohol in your system for nullifying your reaction time, because the bastard succeeded in grabbing your forearm to pull you closer once again. His nails dug into your flesh hard enough that you winced, and when you tried pulling back, you felt the telltale sting of skin breaking. “Oh come on,” he crooned, giving you an undiluted nose-full of the stale beer on his breath. “Don’t be such a buzzkill. A couple of beautiful women such as yourselves deserve a night of fun, wouldn’t you say?” 

Tara interjected this time, looking more uncomfortable than you’d ever seen her before. “We’re really fine, please let go–”

A shadow crossed your vision for a moment; large, imposing, and radiating an aura that you could only describe as murderous. Smokey cologne filled your nostrils as Sylus wrenched the man’s hand away from your arm, then picked him up by the scruff of his shirt to glare menacingly into his eyes. Over the blaring music, you had no idea what the green-eyed stranger was saying, but you could make out the sound of him stammering as he clawed at the arm that held him inches off the ground. 

For a minute, you really thought Sylus was going to end the man’s life. Even in the midst of hoisting an adult male off the floor by the fabric of his shirt, he didn’t move a muscle. It didn’t even look like he was struggling. He was eerily still, and when you moved to catch a glimpse of his side profile, there was no missing the white hot stare he had glued to his prey. 

Tentatively, you placed your hand on his shoulder, squeezing softly to get his attention. “Sylus, we’re fine– just put him down, please.” 

Aside from a muscle in his jaw ticking minutely, he gave no indication that he had heard you. You tried again, “Sylus please. People are staring, you’re causing a scene.” 

Truthfully you couldn’t care less about the people in the club watching everything unfold, but you were worried about police being called in and discovering who exactly Sylus was. The thought of him being taken away unnerved you, and even though you knew he could more than likely escape beforehand, you feared for the people that would inevitably be caught in the crossfire. 

Beneath your palm, you felt Sylus’ bicep flex before he roughly dropped the man from his ironclad grip. The stranger, wide-eyed with terror, stumbled when his feet hit the floor, but he didn’t waste any time disappearing into the crowd and vanishing from sight. You sighed with relief, grateful that things hadn’t ended badly, then looked back to the silver haired man. His red eyes were fixed on your arm where the stranger had scratched you; four stark, crescent shaped wounds were etched into your skin. Sylus gently took your hand in his to bring your forearm closer for him to inspect, lightly running his fingers over the wounds, and despite the severity of the situation, you felt your face flushing from the intimacy of the gesture. 

“Come on,” Sylus practically growled, his grip on your hand tightening. “We’re leaving.” 

“I– wait, what?” You tried wrenching your arm free from the imposing man’s vice grip, but it was like pulling at Protocore infused shackles. “Sylus, let me go! What about Tara? I can’t leave her here alone.” 

“Luke and Kieran are already on their way. They’ll take her home.” He didn’t look at you as he half-pulled, half-dragged you through the crowd towards the front doors of the club. It took everything in you not to stumble in your heels and sprawl out on the sticky, tile floor, but something told you that even if you did, Sylus would just haul you up and toss you over his shoulder before you made contact with the ground. When the two of you made it outside, the cool air was like a sobering slap to the face, and you blinked rapidly as Sylus released your hand long enough to open the passenger side door of a sleek, black car parked in the front. He gestured stiffly to the seat, “Get in.” 

The flame of rebellion reserved especially for Sylus and his insufferable brand of arrogance roared to life in a split second. Any gratitude you might have felt towards him dissipated into the air like smoke. Your eyes sharpened into something lethal, and your hands curled into fists at your sides as you stood your ground on the sidewalk– silently daring him to physically move you into the car, because you would sooner go head to head with a den of Wanderers before you let yourself be ordered around by him. 

“No.”  

“What if I asked nicely?” 

“No,” you doubled down firmly, your nails biting into the skin of your palms as you beat back the urge to smack him. 

“Kitten,” Sylus’ voice was a low rumble, but the nickname came out as anything but calm. It held a dangerous edge to it, like something akin to thunder sounding before lightning struck. “Now really isn’t the time to show me your claws. Please, get in the car.” 

“Screw you, Sylus. I already said no. I’ll walk–” 

The familiar, cold tendrils of his Evol snaked around your torso, lashing out too fast for you to track or dodge. There was an almost imperceivable tug against your midsection, and the next thing you knew, you were being haphazardly thrown into the car. Any whiplash the motion would have caused was prevented by the red mist that cradled your head. By the time you realized what had happened, Sylus was shutting the door on you and striding around to the driver’s side, ignoring the wary stares from the people outside waiting to be let into the club. 

“Are you out of your mind?” You snapped as soon as he climbed in, and your blood boiled when he wouldn’t even do you the service of looking at you while you raged. “You’re completely out of line! You don’t get to just decide to kidnap me when I’m out with my friends. Do you have any idea how embarrassing this is?” 

“You’ll get over it,” he muttered, throwing the gear in drive before peeling away from the curb. He spun the car around so quickly that you found yourself leaning uncomfortably against the door, and as he evened out the steering wheel and took off down the street, the erratic motions had you bouncing between the window and the center console. “You might want to buckle up, sweetie.” 

He shot you a sidelong look when you jerked on the seatbelt hard enough for it to lock in place, then snickered when you were forced to be gentler to draw the strap across your lap. “Keep laughing like that and you’ll have to sleep with one eye open tonight,” you muttered, clicking the buckle into place. 

Sylus chuckled softly under his breath, his knuckles blanching white against the steering wheel for a brief moment before he said, “I’m counting on it, kitten.” 

—

Insufferable. Demanding. Egotistical. Infuriatingly charming. Too suave for his own good. All of those terms could be used to describe Sylus, but even then it wasn’t enough. No dictionary in the world had enough words to characterize the man’s personality, and you were positive that if you tried finding one, you would be on the hunt for the rest of your life. 

After arriving at his house in the N109 Zone, you’d bitten his head off for not taking you home. When he had countered with the claim that he’d never specified where he was taking you to begin with, you had thrown your hands in the air and stomped away into the living room, at your wits end for the nth time tonight. He had given you a modicum of space to let you cool off shortly thereafter, until he had reappeared to let you know that Luke and Kieran had dropped Tara off at her house safe and sound. 

That had… helped your mood a little. While Sylus was an exasperating person as a whole, you knew that you could trust him to have your friend delivered home unharmed. Luke and Kieran were reliable too– at least, they were when they weren’t conspiring to get you and their boss into compromising situations.

You had never really forgiven them for setting you up that night you were searching for Sylus’ brooch. If Sylus was the ringmaster of Onychinus, Luke and Kieran were the acrobats bending over backwards to please him. 

“There’s a change of clothes by the bathroom,” Sylus’ gravelly voice sounded from somewhere behind you, but you didn’t bother looking away from the massive bay windows to acknowledge him. “You can go shower if you want. If you’re still adamant about going home afterwards, then I’ll take you.” 

You barked out a humorless laugh, and you saw Sylus narrow his eyes at you in the reflection of the window. “Why so hospitable all of a sudden? You didn’t care about what I wanted when you were hauling me out of the club like a petulant child.” 

“I’m sorry, are we forgetting the part where I got rid of the human scum that was yanking you around like a dog on a leash?” 

You dumbly shook your head, baffled and bewildered that he had justifications ready to dish out after behaving so boorishly. “While I appreciate that you intervened, I had it under control.”

One second he was across the room glaring at the back of your head. The next, he was inches away from you, peering down at you like an ominous shadow with predatory intent plastered all over his face. Sylus swiftly captured your hand in his to reveal the tiny row of scratches on your forearm, his gentle ministrations so at odds with his stormy demeanor. He cocked a brow at you and condescendingly said, “You and I have very different definitions of what ‘under control’ means, kitten.” 

“Whatever,” you muttered, easily withdrawing your arm back to your side. “It’s not like he could have done anything serious. We had people all around us, and security would have come over eventually–”

“For future reference, don’t rely on drunk patrons to protect you. I expected better from a Linkon Hunter. You have no idea what that man wanted with you and your friend.” 

“Oh, and you do?”

“Yes.”

That one word from Sylus made you pause, your mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, and your face crinkled in confusion as you processed the meaning behind his declaration. “You… Did you use your Evol?”

Not the least bit ashamed at having been caught, Sylus turned away from you to look out the floor to ceiling window. “He may as well have been screaming his desires with how loud his thoughts were. What he wanted was vile,” he stated roughly, “and he would have gotten it whether you were a willing participant or not.” 

The silence that filled the living room was deafening, and you nervously looked down to the floor as you shifted your weight between your feet. To hear the real reason why Sylus had felt the need to intervene… it explained the cold-blooded expression you’d seen on his face. Moreover, you were glad that he hadn’t left like he had said he would. 

Should you apologize? It felt wrong to just ignore the fact that Sylus could very well have saved your life tonight, and Tara’s by extension. He was as stubborn and headstrong as they came, but he wasn’t a monster. He had protected you countless times before now, and despite your brain’s unwillingness to fully agree, you had a sneaking suspicion that the crime lord had a soft spot for you. You’d come to terms with that fact a long time ago. At the very least, you felt like you owed him a sincere apology for being such a brat in the face of his kindness. 

If it could even be called that. 

Your mouth opened so those two little words could slip free and ease the weight that had settled on your shoulders, but Sylus’ finger stopped you. The slender digit pressed against your lips and prevented you from saying anything, and you looked up at him through your lashes as you blinked slowly in confusion. 

“Go clean up. We can talk more after, if you’d like.” 

The softness of his voice coupled with the tenderness of his gaze compelled you to listen. No retorts, no witty one-liners, no arguments formed on your tongue. For the first time since knowing him, you weren’t in the mood to butt heads or deny him. 

So you listened. 

—

He was waiting for you when you finished in the bathroom. 

Maybe it was more appropriate to say that he’d simply retired to his room after waiting for nearly an hour. After all, you were technically using his shower. The gray cotton pajamas that had been left for you on the bathroom counter were soft, thin, and fit like a glove. You had taken a good minute to relish in the comfortable feeling of them before slipping out of the steam filled chamber. 

Sylus was thumbing over the collection of records on the shelf when you emerged, his broad back to you as he thoughtfully debated on which one to play. He made no move to acknowledge your presence, but you already knew he had heard you walk out of the bathroom. He was too perceptive to overlook anyone sneaking up on him. 

Padding over to the bed, you sat down on the edge of the mattress and mulled over the countless different things you could say to him. ‘I’m sorry’ was seemingly the most prudent. There was also the ‘thank you’ route, which wasn’t a bad option considering he had made sure Tara made it home safely in addition to coming to your aide. Part of you even wanted to ask why he cared to go so far out of his way for you when you were merely… well, you. Sure, your paths had intertwined some time ago, and he had helped you out in choppy situations a few times before. But at the end of the day, the two of you couldn’t be more different, and it wasn’t like you’d made it easy for him to get to know you. 

Why did he care to help you? 

You could already hear his possible responses playing in your mind. He would probably say something like “I protect my investments,” or “You have a habit of looking so pitiful, I can’t help myself”. Something that would affirm that you were important to him while still keeping you at arm’s length. This cat and mouse game you had going with him was maddening, and you were starting to lose your grip on what was real and what was a facade. 

“If you think any harder, you’re going to hurt yourself, kitten.” 

Sylus’ voice drew you back into the present moment, and you glanced towards him in time to watch him slide a vinyl case off the shelf before carefully thumbing the packaging open. His captivating red eyes landed on you as he deposited the disk onto the record player, effortlessly dropping the needle down without so much as blinking. An almost bewitching melody filled the room, and then Sylus was setting down the case to walk towards you, his stride slow and purposeful. Stopping a few inches away from you, he delicately picked up a strand of your damp hair to coil around his finger as he raked his eyes over your body. 

The pajamas he’d chosen were definitely meant for hot nights, that was for sure. The soft, gossamer shorts left nearly all of your legs on display. Nevermind the racy neckline of the matching, lace-lined tank top. All in all, you were wearing more skin than you were clothes. 

“I was thinking,” you started to say, tilting your chin up to meet his unyielding stare. “I owe you an apology.” 

One perfectly groomed brow quirked up in response. “Oh?”

“I know I can be stubborn sometimes–” 

“The understatement of the century,” he mused thoughtfully. 

“Shush, I need to say this.” You sighed before pressing on undaunted, your tone hardening, “That being said, I’d be ungrateful if I didn’t acknowledge that I was out of my element tonight. I honestly don’t know if things would have gone the way you said they would, but even so I can see now that I wasn’t in a state of mind to properly protect myself or Tara. Your methods were… unorthodox, but you being there was appreciated, and I’m sorry that I snapped at you.” 

Sylus was quiet for a few seconds, taking in your words with an almost serene expression on his face. His thumb traced over the strand of your hair around his finger, then let it slip away to caress the side of your cheek with his knuckles. Your breathing hitched– startled by the gesture– but you made no move to pull away or stop him. It was rare for you to be able to perceive him so… openly. 

His voice was low, barely a whisper as he murmured, “You never have to thank me for the things I do. Especially not for tonight.” 

The way he grazed your cheekbone with his fingertips before tracing the outline of your jaw had your mouth firmly sealed. If you tried to speak, you already knew your voice would come out pitifully small. It had nothing to do with feeling small, however. The utter longing in Sylus’ gaze coupled with the almost reverent way he touched your face made you feel… important. He was looking at you like you were the only thing he cared about within the four walls, which was saying something when you stopped to consider all the valuables and collectables he kept hidden away in his bedroom. 

But you didn’t stop to think. Not really. Your brain was mercifully silent as you studied his eyes, his posture, his lips. Something had shifted between the two of you, and you didn’t know if you were eager or scared to discover what that meant. Sylus’ thumb slid over your lips, his touch featherlight as well as chill-inducing. The hunger in his eyes was unmistakable as the corner of his mouth twitched up into a half smirk. 

“Let tonight be a lesson to you, kitten; never let your guard down around anyone,” his gaze flickered from your face to your chest, then lazily swept down the rest of your seated form. “Especially not when you’re out for a night on the town looking like the human embodiment of temptation.” 

“Temptation?” You echoed dumbly, and Sylus shook his head to himself as he laughed softly. 

“Don’t tell me you were completely oblivious to how you looked in the middle of the club earlier. I’ll admit, the amount of eyes you had on you made me… twitchy. I should burn that dress to cinders, but then I’d never get to see you in it again.” 

You blinked in surprise, a tingling warmth spreading from your chest all the way down your torso before settling between your legs. “I– you liked it?” 

It should have made you laugh the way Sylus had to bend down so much to put his eyes at the same level as yours, but humor had flown right out the fucking window the second he started caressing your face. His blatant desire burned you, his touch leaving a trail of fire in its wake. Red eyes bored into yours, and his face was close enough that you could see the darker shade of red that rimmed his irises. Being so up close and personal with his lips also made thinking difficult, but the one thought you managed to cling onto was how soft they looked, and how much you wanted to feel them against yours. 

This man was quickly becoming your undoing, and you truly didn’t think you had it in you to fight against your baser urges. 

“I liked the dress,” Sylus said huskily, his fingers leaving your face to ghost down the side of your neck. “I liked your heels, and I definitely liked your dancing.” His fingers moved to curl around the back of your neck, pulling you ever so slightly closer to him so that his breath fanned across your cheeks as his eyes eagerly fell to your lips. “Would you be offended if I said I like you?” 

The shallow breath you drew into your lungs was like music to Sylus’ ears, and you felt his hand stiffen against the nape of your neck as he awaited your response. Formulating words was a bit of a challenge, however, seeing as all you could focus on was the unrepentant fantasies that were currently bombarding your brain. You wanted him bad, and the wet heat ravaging your lower body was a testament to that fact. 

“I’m going to need an answer, sweetie,” Sylus purred, all too pleased with the way you seemed to unconsciously move your face closer to his. “Or am I meant to read your mind to find out for myself?”

“I’m not offended,” your response was airy– barely a whisper– but Sylus heard you loud and clear, and he grinned wickedly as his grip on your neck tightened. “I think I like you too.” 

“It’s about time.” 

Those three little words came out roughly, but you hardly got the chance to dwell on the gravelly timbre to Sylus’ voice. His lips were on yours in the next second, stealing your breath and igniting a fire in your veins that threatened to burn you from the inside out. Every one of your senses was overcome with Sylus; his smokey scent, the throaty moan he let slip, the feeling of his fingers burying themselves in your still damp hair. You heard him kick off his shoes without breaking away, and then you felt the mattress dip under his weight as he supported himself over you with one of his knees. Looming above you, you were entirely at his mercy as he used the newfound angle to his advantage, sweeping his tongue along the roof of your mouth as he devoured the minuscule sounds that emanated from you. You cautiously wrapped your significantly smaller hand around his thick wrist, drawing him close enough into your space that you had to lean back on the bed to accommodate his larger frame. 

“The things you do to me,” Sylus rumbled, leaning his head to the side to trail hot, open mouthed kisses down your neck, flicking his tongue against your pulse with a low hum. “So unbelievably perfect. You have no idea what I want to do to you.” 

Emboldened by his praise, you let your hands rest on his narrow waist so your nails could dig into the silky fabric of his dress shirt. “Show me, then,” you replied, turning your head so you could stare up at him as your teeth began to bite at your swollen bottom lip. 

In a flash, Sylus had moved off of you to wedge his arms under your armpits, effortlessly hoisting you off the edge of the bed so he could better toss you towards the mountain of pillows near the headboard. A surprised yelp sounded from you as your ass made contact with the smooth, satin sheets, and you watched blearily as Sylus deftly began undoing the top buttons of his shirt with one hand as his eyes raked over you. “You don’t have any idea what kind of effect you have on me, do you? You drive me crazy and you’re none the wiser to it. Ignorance really is bliss, huh?”

“I–” you didn’t know what to say or where to look, especially once the muscled expanse of his chest started to show itself. “I’m sorry?” 

Chuckling darkly, Sylus finished off the remaining clasps on his shirt and shrugged the attire off, tossing it somewhere near the record player before making his way to the side of the bed. “Actions speak louder than words, kitten. Why don’t you show me just how sorry you are?” His hands gestured towards his belt in an unspoken question, and while it took you a second to figure out what it was that he wanted, you were quick to shuffle towards him to get started once your brain caught up. “So eager to please… I’m impressed.” 

You ignored his teasing to the best of your ability. Cold feet wouldn’t serve you well now– not when every fiber of your being was heated with blatant arousal. The urge to please him, to pleasure him, to drive him to further madness, was overwhelming. Nimble as a cat, you undid his belt and let the metal buckle fall away with a resounding clink. The catch of his pants went next, and you made sure to glance up at him through your lashes as you slowly dragged the zipper down, reveling in the lust-filled gaze he fixed you with. 

Sylus let you do the majority of the work, only deigning to lend you a hand when you struggled to pull his pants down over the swell of his rear. A throaty laugh sounded from above you when your eyes nearly bugged out of your head at the sight of his briefs. The unmistakable outline of his girth was apparent through the dark fabric, and fuck– was he big. 

How the hell was that supposed to fit anywhere inside you? 

“Don’t tell me you’re nervous,” Sylus taunted, his index finger and thumb coming to grip your chin and tilt your head up at him. “Just take it slow. I’ll talk you through it.” 

All his promise did was give you butterflies. You swallowed thickly, nodding as he released you so you could turn back to the task at hand. Almost hesitantly you slipped your fingers under the waistband of his dark undergarments, taking care to let your hands graze the delectable ‘V’ of his lower stomach before you pulled them down and revealed inch after inch of his insane member. You couldn’t help it that your mouth fell open at the sight. 

Sylus’ cock wasn’t just big, it was thick. The sheer weight of it fought against its erect nature and had it drooping menacingly before your parted lips. The shiny, red tip was already oozing pre-cum, causing it to glimmer as it reflected the dim overhead lighting. A sparse collection of darker, neatly trimmed hair surrounded his shaft, and you unconsciously found your nails scraping gently through it before you took him in your hands. Even with both of the appendages working together to grip him, there was still ample space left untouched and exposed, and you licked your lips before glancing up at the silver haired man with expectant eyes. 

Sylus still looked surprisingly put together despite the circumstances, but the way his chest rose and fell quicker than normal spoke volumes of his excitement. His red eyes glittered with anticipation, and one of his large hands carded through your hair before gripping the strands firmly enough to maneuver your cheek directly against his throbbing manhood. He sighed as soon as your skin made contact with it, gently moving you around by your tresses until his tip bumped against your lips. 

“Open,” came his sultry command. 

With nowhere else to go you heeded his instruction and stuck your tongue out, ready and willing for whatever he had planned for you. He let you guide his cock into the warm, inviting prison that was your mouth, and without any further pointers from him, you took him as far as you could before you felt the head bumping the back of your throat. The urge to gag came and went quickly as you hollowed your cheeks around your mouthful, and the ragged sound Sylus let slip conveyed his approval well enough. 

It was a tad difficult to crane your neck back to sneak a glance at him, but from what you could see, he was breathing heavily and looking down at you with wonder. “You’re quite the little minx, aren’t you?” 

You hummed your confirmation, the vibrations from the action making the hand in your hair squeeze tighter around the strands, and the soft curse that emanated from him was like music to your ears. 

“Fuck– slowly now, keep your tongue out and mind your teeth. Tap my leg if you need to stop, alright kitten?” 

Stopping was the absolute last thing you wanted to do, but you dipped your head just enough to let him know you were in agreement. Sylus cupped the underside of your jaw with his free hand while the other stayed firmly rooted in your hair– fully in control of your head from that moment forward– and you allowed for your hands to slip away from the base of his cock so you could brace your palms on his toned thighs. His first few thrusts were meant to test your resolve, seeing as they were shallow and relatively wary. Your jaw stayed slack throughout all of it though, and you even took it upon yourself to tense and untense your tongue as he plunged in and out. 

“Damn,” Sylus groaned as his eyes fell shut, the euphoric sensations prompting him to increase his pace ever so slightly. Your nails scraped against the skin of his thighs as you curled your hands into loose fists, the sordid, wet sounds of your mouth making your face flush with barely there embarrassment. “That’s it, darling. You’re doing great.” 

With his fingers wrapped under your jaw, the placement of his digits allowed you to become acutely aware of the bulge in your throat. Sylus’ cock edged deeper and deeper into your mouth with every pump of his hips, and when a strangled, choking sound finally broke free from your stuffed mouth, Sylus laughed darkly before opening his eyes to turn his attention back to you. 

“I wish you could see yourself right now.” Sylus emphasized the statement with a harsher buck of his hips, the head of his cock sliding past the back of your throat and reaching far enough that you felt it near the top of your esophagus. Your eyes pinched shut as tears welled up within them, then flew open as the man above you withdrew his shaft nearly all the way to give you the chance to breathe. Greedy gulps of air were sucked down immediately, followed by a harsh cough that forced the pooling tears in your eyes to cascade down your cheeks. “You make one hell of a pretty picture, sweetie. I’ll have to keep a camera on hand next time.” 

“C-Can I try?” You rasped out the question as you worked to catch your breath, and the amusement that lit up Sylus’ features was enough to harden your determination. 

He released the underside of your jaw and affectionately brushed a few strands of hair out of your face before dropping his hands entirely. “By all means. Show me what tricks you’ve got up your sleeve, Miss Hunter.” 

You weren’t inexperienced by any means, but the impressive size of Sylus had you reevaluating everything you’d ever learned. A blow job was a blow job, however, and you were certain that your enthusiasm would help cover any blind spots that would no doubt appear. 

Sylus watched with anticipation as you took him back in your hands and smiled up at him, resting the heavy head of his cock between your lips before you pursed them to press a warm, messy kiss to the sensitive tip. The tiny, evil glint in your tear-stained eyes clued him in on just how badly you yearned to make him crumble, and for probably the first time in his life, Sylus couldn’t wait to see someone try to knock him down a peg or two. 

With your eyes still glued to him, you slipped your tongue out and ran it slowly over the slit before curling the muscle around the swollen head with a soft sigh, gently stroking him once, then twice. You twisted your wrist slightly as you opened your mouth again to suck wetly at the pre-cum beading before your eyes, laving your tongue over the head hard enough for Sylus’ eyes to narrow for the briefest of moments. His hands clenched at his side, the insatiable urge to fuck into your mouth again taking over him, but he refrained from interrupting your show through sheer force of will alone. 

You smiled coyly up at him, entirely aware of the larger man’s internal struggle, and slowly slid his cock back into your mouth so your lips sealed right over the head as you sucked. It was wet and messy and noisy, and Sylus couldn’t help the way he twitched forward for more as a string of broken curses fell from his lips. 

Your eyes fluttered shut as you tilted your head to the side to mouth down Sylus’ length, sucking gently and soothing your tongue over the warm flesh as you went, and if the feeling and the sight of you wasn’t enough to leave Sylus a panting, eager mess, the slick sounds of your mouth would fucking do it for him. He kept his hands off but groaned loudly, trying his best to indicate that you should absolutely keep doing exactly that. 

His head fell back between his tense shoulders as he let out a low, rumbling moan, shivering when you curled your tongue around the underside of his cock and breathed a soft chuckle against him. You worked to stroke the parts of him that your lips weren’t worshiping, and the smooth, even touches were made even smoother by the copious amounts of saliva and pre-cum that already soaked his shaft. Sylus’ leg twitched minutely, his knee banging against the side of the bed frame, but all he could feel was your soft lips at the base of his cock followed by an agile twist around the slick head, smearing all the combined moisture around blindingly. He didn’t think it could get any better than that, but once you dipped your head low enough to take the skin of his balls into your mouth and suck delicately, Sylus was fighting to keep his head out of the clouds, because the sensation was absolutely otherworldly. 

“Fuck,” came Sylus’ garbled, gritted voice, his stomach tensing as his hands finally returned to your mussed hair. “Alright, you’ve proven your point, kitten.”

Hardly, you thought. You ignored the high strung edge to his voice and continued your ministrations, wrapping your lips around the head and taking him as deep as you could before you swallowed, and when Sylus choked on a rough gasp in response, you withdrew slowly, using the tip of your tongue to press along the underside of his cock. Sylus desperately wanted to stop you, because the last thing he had anticipated was cutting all the fun short by finishing in your mouth of all places– but then your tongue swirled around the tip again while you stroked every wet, exposed inch– and his fingers tightened around your strands of hair as he fought the urge to shove his cock back into the welcoming embrace of your mouth. 

He didn’t think it was possible for such a tiny thing to have such a dexterous tongue. There was simply no way anything born of this Earth could possibly be this versatile. 

“Enough,” Sylus growled abruptly, willing his brain to supersede his baser urges as he promptly pulled you off of him by your hair. The sting from the motion made you gasp, but the pleasure that came with being so easily manhandled quickly overshadowed the pain, and your hooded eyes drank in the sight of Sylus as you breathed in deeply. 

Red eyes hazy and unfocused, chest rising and falling rapidly, and a pretty flush you’d never seen before sneaking up his neck and spreading across his cheeks and ears. Oh yeah, you thought, he was definitely getting close. 

“Don’t look so smug,” Sylus rumbled, the slight strain in his voice barely noticeable. But you were a Linkon City Hunter, and being perceptive was technically a job requirement, so you absolutely took note of it. You couldn’t help but grin– awfully proud of yourself for riling him up this way– and let go of his cock to brace yourself on your arms as you leaned back. 

“Sorry, I just really liked the face you were making.” 

His eyes narrowed in an unspoken challenge, and before you could so much as blink, his larger body was covering the bulk of yours as he hoisted you back up the mattress so you were leaning against the throne of pillows once again. Red tendrils of his Evol aided him in the removal of your shirt, the lacy attire vanishing from view as he crawled backwards just enough so he could slip his fingers under the waistband of your pajama shorts before he said, “I hope it was worth it, because now it’s my turn to see what kinds of faces you’ll make, sweetie.” 

The effect his words had on you could have honestly been deemed concerning, and the pure bolt of arousal that shot through you when he started to drag your pants off without breaking eye contact was like nothing you had ever felt before. As soon as he had tossed your bottoms to the floor to join his own pile of clothing, he wasted little time in settling between your outstretched legs, wrapping one of his thick forearms over your waist to hold you in place as a devious expression spread across his face. 

“Try to hold still for me,” he breathed out softly. You opened your mouth to reply, but your words got cut off the second one of his fingers slid along your slit and pressed against your clit, wringing a strangled gasp from you as you inadvertently bucked your hips up into his touch. He tutted disapprovingly, “That’s the exact opposite of holding still.” 

“I–” another gasp filled the room as Sylus took to drawing languid circles around the bundle of nerves between your legs, the accumulated moisture there making the action effortless and positively heavenly. It took an insane amount of restraint to keep your hips still despite the blissful torment, your breathing becoming increasingly erratic as Sylus played with you, testing your reactions and pushing your limits as though your body was a new toy he was trying out. Your nails dug into your palms in an attempt to ground yourself, your bottom lip throbbing as you savaged it with your teeth. 

As soon as Sylus’ mouth appeared against your entrance, there was no stopping the unconscious jerk of your hips against his face. His muffled laughter against you didn’t help matters, and you wheezed shakily as you grabbed for a fistful of the sheets with one hand while slapping the other over your mouth. Keening, desperate little moans slipped through your fingers, Sylus’ tongue reducing you to a brainless pile of limbs faster than you could process. The tense muscle probed and swept inside of you while his thumb rubbed maddeningly over your clit, the dual stimulation borderline torturous, and your stifled groan drew Sylus’ attention as he increased the tempo of his tongue. 

The arm draped across your waist extended in the next second, and you felt as the silver haired man grabbed for the hand covering your mouth. You let him pull your arm down to your side, his palm tracing down your heated skin until it reached your own, and then he was intertwining your fingers together to hold the limb there. His lips left your core for the briefest of moments, just long enough for him to murmur breathlessly, “Don’t hide those pretty sounds from me, kitten. I want to hear all of it.” 

It should have been anatomically impossible, but you somehow managed to flush even deeper than before. Sylus kept his eyes on you as he returned to licking and sucking at your soaked center, his pupils blown wide and completely dilated as he worked to tear the most sinful, desperate noises from your scratchy throat. He truly looked like some kind of irresistible sex demon– risen from the depths of Hell to torment you and reduce you to a brainless, twitching mess of a human– and God was he succeeding. You were torn between wanting it all to end with your release and simultaneously wanting it to continue forever. 

The idea of staying here for the rest of eternity was not an unpleasant one. Not in the slightest. 

Sylus’ thumb vanished from your swollen nub, replaced almost immediately by his mouth as he sucked the tender bit of flesh between his lips, and the cry that ripped from your chest was unlike any sound you had ever heard yourself make. Your spine arched clean off the mattress, your hips pressing against Sylus’ face so forcefully that you were certain you had to be suffocating him, but as you tried to writhe away from the overwhelming ecstasy, Sylus clenched your hand tight in his and held you firmly where you were. 

“Fuck– Sylus, please, please,” you babbled mindlessly, the tight, hot feeling in your lower stomach roaring to life as he teased his tongue over the small bit of flesh held firm between his soft lips. “I–I’m gonna come, fuck, I’m gonna come–” 

The euphoric rush within your body was more powerful than any Aether Core. It was dazzling. Your muscles tensed, your mouth fell open, your eyes squeezed shut, and your hips bucked harshly against Sylus’ unrelenting mouth as an orgasm unlike any you had ever experienced washed over you. The sound of your hoarse voice dimly registered in your ears as you came, and you faintly realized that you were screaming– but there was nothing in the world that could interrupt the extraterrestrial experience you were currently living through– so your voice reverberated off the walls of the room until you were wholly and truly out of breath. 

When you finally sagged back into the mattress, Sylus had eased up the intensity of his ministrations, much to his credit. His tongue made one final plunge into your wet walls to lap up the evidence of your pleasure before he pulled away entirely, and all you could do was tremble beneath him as he pushed himself up onto his knees. 

He made no move to release your hand as he crawled over you, instead lifting and pinning the joined appendages beside your head before he dipped down to passionately kiss you. Sylus growled savagely as he swallowed up your pitiful mewling, every tiny sound you made fueling something deep inside of him. Trapped under him with nowhere to go, you were entirely at his mercy as his free hand came to slip under your neck in an attempt to deepen the kiss impossibly further. Sylus forced more of his tongue into your mouth and imbued you with the taste of yourself, humming thoughtfully when he felt your nails dig into the back of his hand, at which point he pulled back to stare down at you.

“I should count myself lucky that I have no neighbors this deep in the N109 Zone. I wouldn’t be surprised if you scared Mephisto off with that scream.” 

“Screw,” you panted harshly in-between the words, “that bird.” 

His hand clenched around the nape of your neck as a wicked smile stretched across his face. “You’re actually screwing me, in case you’ve forgotten. Or is your head still somewhere above the clouds?” 

Leave it to Sylus and his smartassery bring you back down to Earth. “One of these days someone is going to cut out your mocking tongue,” you grumbled under your breath, though there was no genuine animosity in the statement. 

Sylus only laughed, his red eyes twinkling with amusement and pure male satisfaction. “If that someone is you, I think I can rest easy. You seem to like my tongue far too much for that to be a viable threat.” 

“…Touché.” 

His lips resumed their relaxed exploration of yours, bestowing a few quick pecks to the corners of your mouth before he peppered a trail of kisses along your jaw, bumping your head to the side with his own as he went. His warm breath fanned across your sweat-slick skin as he sanguinely said, “I think you’ll like the other parts of me, too.” 

On cue, you felt the hard length of him settle against your thigh as he continued to press his lips against your thundering pulse, your hand coming to grip his firm bicep as arousal buzzed through you. Not a shred of doubt existed within you as you hummed your approval, angling your head to the side to give Sylus more room to lick a broad stripe down the column of your neck. You wanted more, and you were well past the point of pretending you weren’t keenly interested in experiencing everything the leader of Onychinus had to offer. 

In an act of complete and utter depravity, Sylus began rocking his hips against your thigh to rub his cock against your heated skin as he unabashedly groaned into the crook of your neck. You felt his sharp teeth clamp down on the skin above your clavicle before he sucked lightly, laving his tongue over the little bit of flesh he managed to latch on to. The barely there sting was more pleasant than anything, and you sighed contentedly when you felt him move higher to repeat the motion on another patch of unmarred skin. 

A small, needy sound came from deep within your chest when Sylus abandoned his hold on the back of your neck to feel his way down your prone body, your eyes falling shut as you relished in his gentle fondling. You felt his fingers graze over your collarbone, then over the hardened peaks of your breasts, before settling between your legs once again. His touch against your clit was slow and testing, prompting you to lean your head back with a quiet gasp as you rocked your hips into Sylus’ hand. The movement played into Sylus’ steady rocking nicely– your pelvis elevating and sliding against his cock easily– and the low-pitched groan of approval he met you with had you smiling softly to yourself.

When Sylus pushed his finger into you again, you bit your lip at the same time he pulled his mouth off of your neck. You opened your bleary eyes to peer up at him, only to find that he was watching you with a tender sort of reverence. You flushed brightly under his flustering gaze, suddenly incredibly bashful at having him watch you so closely even though his mouth had just been ravaging your most intimate area– but despite that fact, you found yourself angling your face to the side in an attempt to hide your reactions. 

“Oh no,” Sylus uttered, a lone tendril of his Evol snaking out to turn your face back to him. “No hiding, kitten. I don’t intend on missing a single one of the pretty expressions you make.”

As though to punctuate the statement, Sylus curled his finger inside of you up– just enough that he found the spot he’d been searching for– and his efforts pulled a strangled moan from you at the same time your hips jolted against his palm. “Sylus, I– hng–” 

Your pleading was cut short by Sylus adding a second finger before he repeated the motion, taking care to slowly rub the pads of his fingers across that same spot over and over again, evidently drawing immense satisfaction in watching you wriggle and twitch under him. That damnable smirk of his showed itself once more as he pressed into the spot more insistently, his eyes devouring every inch of you as your stomach tensed and your toes curled, a telling warmth bleeding through your chest and coiling its way down between your legs. 

It seemed impossible for any one person to be so good at this. Then again, this was Sylus, and you were fairly positive finding people’s weak points was something of a speciality of his. 

The fact that your weak point was buried knuckle deep inside of you was irrelevant. 

As Sylus continued to rub little circles over your sweet spot, he lowered his head once more to work yet another dark bruise into your skin, silently filing away the mental image of your body tensing and arching beneath him for later. The sight of you alone was enough to leave him breathless, but as nice as the imagery was, what really got to him were the sweet, gorgeous sounds of your voice. Your lips parted around quivering moans, tiny gasps slipping through every now and then, and your stammering pleas filled the quiet air around him and imbued him with a newfound sense of urgency. 

Sylus had always loved the sound of your voice, but hearing what it was like when it was hitched and raspy, repeating his name like a mantra… he knew then that there was no better sound in the world. It would be all too easy for him to become addicted to it– to you. 

As your whines became more urgent, your hips practically riding his fingers as he brought you close to the edge for a second time, Sylus couldn’t help but feel a sense of male pride. He was the one pulling those noises from you. He was the one you were calling out for, the one you were trusting to take you higher, to hold you and kiss you and make you feel good. He was the one making a noisy little wreck of you and branding you like he was born to do it. 

He needed more. Sylus needed to feel you from the inside out, and the way his cock twitched in response to the thought was all the motivation he needed to withdraw his fingers from your soaked heat. 

You were positively wrecked already– gorgeously so– with your eyes glazed and unfocused, your lips parted freely around beautiful moans and brainless praises, breathless whines of Sylus’ name escaping you alongside the rattling breaths you sucked down. He almost hated that he was interrupting when he murmured, “What do you think, sweetie? Think you’re ready for me?” 

Your eyelids fluttered as your brain returned to the present moment, having completely spaced in lieu of Sylus’ never ending finger torture. Scrubbing a hand down your face, you rasped out, “F-Fuck, yeah, I’ve been ready. You’re the masochist drawing this out.” 

Sylus laughed– the sound deep and rich– before pushing himself up and sitting back on his heels, the heavy head of his cock dragging over your impossibly wet entrance as he got settled. He finally let go of your hand to maneuver you exactly where he wanted you, your knees resting on either side of him as he gripped your waist with fiendish strength. 

“It’s not masochism, sweetie,” he purred, sliding his rock hard member up and down your slit to further tease you. “I’m being attentive. There’s a difference.” 

Sylus’ idea of being ‘attentive’ bordered dangerously close to persecution, because you were hanging on by a sliver of a thread after all his prep work. You swallowed thickly and wriggled your hips against his solid manhood, aiming to drive him into action before you lost your mind entirely. “I’ve been spoiled more than enough. If you’re any more attentive, the sun will start peeking through the blinds.” 

“Would that be so bad?” Sylus pressed the blunt head of his cock against your hole, not pressing in yet, but applying enough pressure that your heart rate quickened in your chest. “If I have any say in the matter, we’ll be seeing the sunrise regardless.” 

In one quick, fluid motion, Sylus effortlessly rolled his hips forward and pressed into your fluttering walls, a throaty growl reverberating within his chest as he was overcome with your unbelievable heat. The abrupt intrusion was far from unpleasant, but it was sudden enough that your mouth fell open around loud, stuttering moans, your eyes rolling back in your head as Sylus gingerly worked more of himself into you. Your hands scrambled for purchase against the silky sheets in an effort to compose yourself, and by the time he was sheathed nearly all the way within your core, your patience had evaporated. 

The size of him was insane. You could feel every inch of him, every vein that lined his incredible length, and the way he pulsed against your walls reignited the flame of desire that burned in your blood. 

“Sylus– God– Sylus,” you wheezed, tilting your head back as you forced yourself to relax your muscles. Rocking your hips up in search of stimulation wasn’t enough, not by a long shot. You needed to get fucked through the bed. You needed Sylus to plow you like the fucking world was ending, and the visceral want that coursed through you was so strong that you wanted to cry. 

Sylus groaned your name, the combined effect of you calling for him and the feeling of your absolutely drenched cunt sucking him in deeper making his goddamn head spin. He wanted to be gentle– to let you get acclimated before he went any further– because it wasn’t egotistical for him to acknowledge that he was big compared to you. But when he felt the heel of your foot press against his lower back, silently urging him to move, his reservations dissipated into the night like vapor. He knew what you wanted, and being the thoughtful, quick learner that he was, there was nothing holding him back from giving it to you. 

“No God here, kitten.” Sylus rewarded you with a deep, grinding thrust that left you frantic with hunger. “It’s just me, and you’re being so good for me.”

Before you even had time flush with embarrassment, Sylus gripped your thigh with one of his hands and braced himself over you with the other, then pulled out nearly all the way before ramming his cock back into you. 

Your shrill voice echoed off the walls of the bedroom, and your spine rounded clear off the mattress as you half whined, half screamed in ecstasy. 

Every slam of Sylus’ hips knocked the breath out of your lungs, his powerful, cervix kissing thrusts leaving you winded as you blindly gathered a fistful of satin sheets in your trembling hands. His brutal rhythm never faltered as he pounded into you with inhuman stamina, breathing loud moans of your name while a mix of concentration and pure bliss settled over his stunning features. Lost in the throes of rapture, you could barely find the brainpower to appreciate the sight of him above you, but you sure as hell tried. 

Sylus’ muscles rippled with power as he held himself over you and pumped his hips; his abdomen undulated, his shoulders tensed, and his lower half moved in a way you could only describe as wave-like. It was too much, and yet you couldn’t get enough of it. Every time he would withdraw his cock and leave you nearly empty, another toe curling thrust would follow, the force of his hips connecting against your ass jolting you up the bed until you were bracing your hands on the headboard, pushing back against him desperately. 

Entranced by your attempts, Sylus let you move back against him for a few beats– just enough to appreciate how your ass bounced against his pale hips– until the urge to take you over again completely filled him. He groaned, low and savage, and released his hold on your thigh to slide his hand under the curve of your spine, pressing you against him hard enough that you could barely move at all. Your whimpered protest fell on deaf ears, and Sylus hauled you back down the bed to pin you under him with his upper body in an act of complete possession, and you were almost tempted to pray when you heard his animalistic growl against your ear. 

Sylus leaned his weight onto the hand braced against the mattress before fucking into you harder, faster, his long thrusts switching to deep, hammering ruts that drove the swollen head of his cock against your sweet spot so fast and so precisely that it damn near knocked you out. If you could use words at all anymore, you would have warned Sylus that you were about to come. There was no fucking way you couldn’t– not when you were so full of his cock, your throat raw from sucking him off earlier and from screaming. You were being held down and fucked like you were Sylus’ personal toy, his nails scratching at your back as his hand curled into a fist in his efforts to hold you closer to him. 

“You feel–” Sylus gritted through his teeth, the deep tenor of his voice making you clench around him impossibly further, “–so fucking incredible.” 

All you could manage was a broken stammer, “S-Sylus, I’m– I’m–” 

The soft strands of his hair brushed across your cheek as Sylus’ face loomed directly over yours, and when you blinked up at him with glassy, unfocused eyes, his one command threatened to bring tears to your eyes. 

“Don’t even think about coming.” 

Your noisy, incoherent pleas were ignored as Sylus continued to dominate you. Somehow in the midst of railing you through the bed, he moved his hand away from your back to dexterously maneuver your bent legs up, hooking them over his shoulders before bracing his weight on his forearm, and the result was catastrophic in the best possible way. Every inch of your body was vibrating, the pleasure mounting in your lower stomach driving you to abandon your hold on the sheets so you could rake your nails down Sylus’ shoulders. Fighting against the urge to finish was nigh impossible, your focus shifting to the feeling of his muscles working to fuck you as well as the enticing sound of skin slapping against skin. 

Your vision was blurring. Your legs were quaking so violently that you were surprised Sylus wasn’t shaking along with them. He laughed wickedly as he took in the sight of you beneath him, dragging his free hand down to feel around your body for something. Through the haze of it all, you didn’t realize what he was searching for until you felt his fingers on your clit, and the sound that left your mouth wasn’t one that you’d ever thought you could make. 

He wasn’t just a masochist, he was a fucking sadist. 

Your head snapped back against the bed as you wailed desolately, your begging and pleading reduced to shaky iterations of “Pleasepleaseplease” as the pain from being on edge for so long drove you to madness. Overwhelmed tears streaked down your temples, frustration and desperation and too much fucking pleasure twining together with the sharp ache of holding back. Every one of the sensations that wracked your body pooled into an immense rush of stimulation that had you moaning out a string of incomprehensible curses, until finally Sylus decided to have mercy on you. 

“Eyes on me, kitten. Show me what you look like coming on my cock.” 

He didn’t have to tell you twice. 

Sylus’ finger flicked over your now tender bundle of nerves once, twice, and then the world went white around you. You could dimly register Sylus’ gravely moans as he watched you crumble, his brows pinched with focus as he drank in the sight of your lips parting around a rattling gasp, his rough thrusting never letting up. It was so good– better than anything you had ever imagined– and your body trembled violently as Sylus’ movements became more erratic, but all you could pay any attention to was the blistering heat that flowed through your veins. 

Amidst the exultation of your release, you felt Sylus’ hand return to yours, your fingers interlacing in a contrasting act of tenderness as his thrusts became shallower, his breathing turning heavier. He committed the expression on your face to memory instantly, and it took everything in him to savor every second of your fluttering walls sucking him in deeper before he was coming too– one last powerful thrust finding its mark. Thick, hot release filled you, the added sensation bringing you higher than you thought possible, and Sylus groaned appreciatively as he ground his hips against your ass to milk every last drop into you.  

You were still catching your breath when Sylus finally stilled his movements, his haggard panting reaching you through the distant buzzing that rang in your ears. There was no way for you to know how long the two of you laid there joined from the waist down, but you knew that it took a good chunk of time before either one of you could think clearly enough to form words. Eventually, his soft hands gripped your calves to guide your legs off his shoulders and towards the mattress, the trembling limbs settling there like dead weight. 

Sylus brushed his fingers against your neck to rouse you from your post-coital state, and when you cracked open your heavy lids to peer up at him, his expression was one of relative amusement. “You alright, sweetie?” 

“Mhm.” You hummed your response, and even though your tongue felt like lead in your mouth, you managed to mumble, “I can’t feel my legs.” 

The sudden bark of laughter that burst from Sylus was something you’d never heard before, and you watched as he shook his head to himself before slowly pulling out of you. Part of you missed the feeling of him stretching you the second he was gone, but a bone deep fatigue that was much stronger than your meager feelings was winning the war of what you deemed important. Your eyelids started to slide shut of their own accord, every muscle in your body going lax as you melted into the bed. 

Sylus watched you with a measure of worship, utterly transfixed by everything about you. He gently skimmed his fingers over your stomach as he moved to settle against the pillows, taking exceptional care not to jostle you too much while he got comfortable. You didn’t seem to think similarly, however, because as soon as you felt his weight ease into the mattress, you were throwing your arm over his broad chest and hitching one of your legs over his, effectively straddling him sideways as if he were your own personal body pillow. 

He laughed softly, moving to cradle you close with one arm while his other moved to lovingly brush your hair out of your eyes. Sighing contentedly, you fixed your eyes on the record player across the room, suddenly overcome with a strange sense of fondness for the Onychinus leader. “You know,” you murmured, your voice slightly muffled against his firm chest. “You’re not what I expected, Sylus.” 

“Hm? What exactly were you expecting?” 

The cautious edge to his voice told you that he was prepared to hear the worst, but you surprised him by rolling your head to the side to plant a chaste kiss right above his heart. “It doesn’t matter. I just know that I wish more people were like you.” 

Sylus smiled, letting his head tip back against the headboard while he used his Evol to turn off the lights, plunging the room into comfortable darkness. “Careful, kitten. Keep up the flattery and I won’t take you home in the morning.” 

Your hand traced lazy shapes against his torso, and the corner of your mouth quirked up as you glanced up at him through your lashes. “I don’t work tomorrow… besides, I seem to remember you saying you’d keep me awake long enough to see the sunrise. Or were those just empty words?” 

A devilish grin stretched across his face as he took your hand in his, pulling you to the side until you were made to roll entirely on top of him so you were straddling his hips. His lower half began to rouse back to life as you settled into place in his lap, and Sylus gripped your chin between his thumb and forefinger as his lustful gaze bored into your very soul. “I was going to be nice and let you sleep, but if this is the game you want to play, then I’ll hold true to my word. Any objections?” 

Your fingers wrapped around his thick wrist as you brought your face closer to his, your eyes greedily falling to his lips. It should have worried you how addicted to him you already appeared to be, but you couldn’t find it in you to care. Sylus’ cock twitched against you as your gaze rose to meet his, a silent challenge twinkling behind your irises. 

“None at all.” 

“Then it’s a deal.” 

As the night droned on, you came to realize that these were the sorts of promises that you didn’t mind making with him, especially when the sunlight streaming through the curtains hours later conveyed that Sylus had made good on his promise. The break of day didn’t stop him though– not in the slightest. His stamina and vigor remained intact as he dutifully ravished you all through the early hours of the morning, and as you fell apart beneath him once more, the only thing you knew for certain was that it was going to be a long, long weekend.

[wifeyoozi]

Lee Jihoon  ✶ 𓂃   She got the Ruby

w.c : 3.0 k ┊ synopsis : Lee jihoon accidentally rizzed up a rich woman and successfully gets pegged by her┊ content warning : smut , sub jihoon, pegging , face sitting/oral sex , lowkey sugar mommy dynamic , uji and his ruby red kink (red lips + red heels + red strap)

a/n : thank you for 1k followers !! Also please remember reblogs are more helpful for the blog than just likes so please reblog! Add tags and comments to lemme know how you liked the fic!

The first time Jihoon meets you it's at a bar. He doesn’t drink often, much less goes to a bar, but he’d been having a creative block in his studio for too long and it had got him feeling weary of his own studio and his shitty studio was that last place he wanted to be.

You were sitting alone, and he’d thought he could flirt with you. Not that he really thought he had a chance at all, you looked so gorgeous, dressed up a little too formally for a bar, but gorgeous nonetheless, and all while he was wearing an old stretched tee over ripped jeans, his impulsively bleached hair long and messy. But his pockets were light and a whiskey hit harder than local beer and he wouldn't mind using a stranger to vent.

“Hey, buy me a drink?” He tried, sliding by you. In all honesty Jihoon doesn't know a thing about flirting and picking up (only if he had listened to a bit of Mingyu's bizarre flirting lessons). He was stiff and awkward, his smile tight.

“No, why would I?” You were colder on the inside than what appeared on the surface. 

Jihoon held his hand up, “shit, sorry. I just had to try flirting once, y'know,” he said awkwardly, trying to retreat back.

“Oh,” you say, stopping him in his steps, “I didn't realise you were flirting.”

“You didn’t?” jihoon chuckles, “doesn’t it happen a lot to you? I'd find it hard to believe it if doesn't.”

“It doesn't,” you say, pulling the chair beside you to make space for him to sit. He raises his eyebrows at his own luck and slides into the seat, “what will you drink, then?”

“A whiskey sounds good,” Jihoon smiles, feeling a bit more confident now that you set the bar so low for him. You simply nod at the bartender who pours a neat glass of some expensive looking whiskey. He glances between you and the bartender, and feels the urge to stop you, “hey, that looks expensive, you don’t really have to-”

“Don’t bother the price,” you say, passing the glass to him, “you can continue flirting with me now.”

Jihoon doesn’t, infact, flirt. After just one glass of whiskey, he’s tipsy enough to spill every detail of his miserable life, from his sloppy job as a music artist and producer, to his shitty apartment at the outskirts of the city to his music block and absolute need for new inspiration. 

When Jihoon got a little too drunk, you ordered a cab for him to drop him home. 

He wasn't much of a talker usually, but alcohol in his system always made him a little weird. You had ended up knowing everything about your life. And he knew nothing but your name and the phone number you gave him.

The next morning he woke up with a hangover, still remembering last night. He tried to look up for you, in hopes of finding some social media so he knew a little more of you before he could think of contacting you.

Of everything else, he didn't expect the first thing to pop up would be a Wikipedia of your name. Oh.

Holy shit, did he just flirt with one of the richest business women in all of Korea!

He doesn't contact you after that knowledge, having read everything about you (especially your net worth). The number you gave him was probably fake too. Ugh, he'd probably embarrassed himself in front of you.

He met you again. And again. And again.

He'd learnt that you didn't go to bars often, you were just waiting for a business partner who was supposed to meet you there, only to have cancelled last minute due to his sick wife. 

“I'm glad I waited to finish my drink.” You'd told him, making his ears and neck heat up.

You two were at a musical exhibit, where Jihoon had performed a few of his songs as the opening guest, dressed in the expensive tailored suit you bought him as you yourself dressed in a black bodycon formal dress finished with a blazer, your sleeves rolled up. 

You'd bought him a rare expensive vinyl CD of his favourite Bruno Mars album. 

“I can't take that, it's too costly,” he said. He didn't want you to think that he was friends with you just for your money, because he really wasn't. “Besides, I don't have a vinyl player.”

“I do,” You say nonchalantly, “you can come over and listen to it whenever you like.”

That isn't the only thing you buy for him. Every time he tries to nod you off for it being too expensive or too big for his place, you'd take it to yours. So he had naturally ended up spending a lot of time at your penthouse. It was big and spacious and you'd told him there was enough space to fit in all his musical accessories that he couldn't keep at his own apartment.

He'd come there often after finishing his work at studio. He'd been inspired lately, writing different songs and making new beats every now and then. He'd even send you a few samples for you to review. 

“It sounds amazing,” you'd said as you pulled off his headphones, “what's the title?”

“Haven't thought of it yet. The chorus is still kinda funky. Once I get it the lyrics right, I'll have a title,” he said. 

He often thought his hoodies and electric guitars and the drum set and all the vinyls and vintage albums you bought him didn't fit your house aesthetic. But you never said anything about it.

He's eating dinner with you now at yet another expensive and fancy restaurant you took him to. He thinks you look gorgeous. Really gorgeous. Just out-of-his-league gorgeous. Your silky slip red dress and red lipstick and matching red heals did things to his heart (and dick) he couldn't explain. 

He just wants to bed you so bad. He wants you to fuck him so bad. 

He watches as you order another bottle of champagne for the two of you. He should feel more guilty, he thinks, for taking so much from you. Instead, he feels comfortable and pleased. He's always been the provider and the protector in any of his previous relationships – not that he minded to be the same with you, but it felt good to be taken care of once instead. He feels safe around you, and happy as well, and he's not an easy talk, but you hear him talk whenever he talks too. And he doesn't know what he must have done to get someone as perfect as you in his life.

“Hey, why do you like me,” he'd said impulsively, “why me?”

You could have had anyone you want in this world. Jihoon firmly believed that, with not only your wealth but for how beautiful you were, inside and out. He thinks you don't realise that, but he knows it.

You look up at him, lips opening and closing slightly, before speaking, “would you… like to come home with me tonight?”

Jihoon's back hit the wall as soon as you two reached the bedroom of your penthouse, his lips feverishly kissing yours. You were strong – not stronger than him, but you also made him feel weak. You pinned him against the wall, your one hand holding two of his above his head as the other reached to hold a handful of his hair. 

He'd moan in your mouth every time you'd tug a little too hard. He loved it. He loves how you tower over him in your 4-inches red high heels. He's usually very dominant in bed, but you make him feel so submissive. 

He feels dumbbed out by the kiss when you pull away, panting as you place butterfly kisses over his jaw and neck. “Shit, y/n, I want you so bad,” he whispered against your hair.

“Will you strip for me, baby?”

Jihoon would do anything for you if you call him baby in your sweet, seductive voice. You leave his hands so he can help himself, unbuttoning the silk black shirt (that you bought for him), carelessly pulling them off his shoulders and yanking them off to the floor. He undid his trousers and pulled them down to his thighs, letting gravity do the rest of the work, all while you nibbled over the skin of his neck.

“These too, baby boy,” you said, tapping on his black CK boxer briefs. Shyly, but surely, Jihoon let go of those too, now completely bare in front of you. You looked down at him, your hand ghosting over the curves of his body, making Jihoon shiver. He could feels your stare over his dick, which had gotten half hard already. You rest your hand over his abs, meeting his eyes again, “Shit, you're so pretty, hoon.”

He wanted to say you were prettier, but his voice was stuck in his throat. You pressed another kiss on his lips before taking his hand and bringing him to your bed, making him sit on the edge. You stripped for him next, giving him a full show as you slipped off your dress, your matching black lace lingerie a sight to his eyes. He immediately put his hand to the back of your knee to pull you on the bed on top of him, but you pullled back, chuckling at him.

“Patience, my baby boy.”

Jihoon let out a shaky breath, pulling his hand back to himself as he watched you undo your bra and let it slip down your shoulders and onto the floor. His mouth watered at sight of your breasts, soft and heavy and perfectly shaped. He held himself back from touching you, even as his cock was completely hard against his torso by now. Your panties came down next, and when you bent down to take off your heels, he stopped you by your wrists, “c-can you not take them off yet?” he asked you, then added in a sweeter voice, “please?”

There was a smile on your face. “Of course, anything for my baby.”

Jihoon’s cheeks grew red a little again, and he looked up at you expectantly.

“What do you want, hoonie?” you cooed softly, cupping his cheek in your right hand, brushing a thumb on it slowly.

“I-i want you,” jihoon said shyly, embarrassed at stuttering the way he did. 

You laugh at him. “You want me? You are gonna have to earn it baby.”

You gently guided his face to your crotch, lifting your one leg up on the bed to give him access. For jihoon, it was nothing short of a dream come true, to have his face smushed over the paradise of your pussy. He held your juicy thighs for support, as he licked a stripe between your folds. In return, he felt your grip on his hair tightening, pulling against his scalp. He was lapping you up like a dog after that. You were wet. So wet. And he wanted to drink all of your juices.

You were moaning softly above him as pushed you by your thighs closer to his face, sliding a tongue into your heat as his nose pressed against your clit. He couldnt help but want more. It wasn’t his fault, you had conditioned him to want the best of everything by spoiling him like that. 

“Baby, can you sit on my face?” he asked, looking up at you with hooded eyes, and you nodded in a yes immediately. He let his body fall back on the bed and you scooted over to his head. You were still holding yourself up, trying not to squish his face. But jihoon wanted exactly for you to squish his face down, to be pressed against your pussy till he couldn’t breathe. So he pulled your thighs down so you were sitting on his face like it was a fucking stool.

He heard you gasp a little when his tongue was right back at action. He suckled on your clit a little, not enough to drive you over the edge, but just enough to make you moan above him. He put his tongue back in its place inside your vagina and he suddenly wished he had two tongues so he could simultaneously fuck you with one and play with your clit with the other. Unfortunately, he didn’t have that choice, so he simply settled on performing the best oral he ever has eith only one tongue.

His pace wasn’t too fast, so to make your experience last longer and better, but not so slow it would be annoying for you. It was the perfect pace to get you moaning. When he felt your thighs start to shake a little, he knew you were close. He put his mouth over your clit once again, sucking harder to ride you to your high, until you were wetting his face with your cum. Fuck, he couldn’t believe he made you squirt for his first time.

You scooted back to sit on his chest now, stabilizing yourself after the amazing orgasm jihoon gave you. He rubbed comforting small and warm circles on your thighs, until you were down from you high, looking down at him with a satisfied smile. 

“was I good?”

“So good, baby,” you say, leaning down to kiss him, tasting yourself on his lips. “Gon’ make you feel s’good,” you say against his lips. 

You both reposistion so that jihoon was lying down straight on the bed,his head supported by your pillows as you hovered on top of him, your knees encaging either sides of his hips. You kissed him again, your tongue finding it's way in his mouth, making him gasp, his hands gripping your shoulders with need. 

“Are you sure you want me to fuck you?” You ask gently.

“Yes.” 

“Have you ever done this before?”

“Mh,” Jihoon nods. He usually dominates his way in bed. He's good at it, doing all the work add giving his partners complete pleasure. But he's taken it before, and he can take it now too. He wants to take it. He wants to take you. “I want you so bad, y/n.” 

He doesn't know how you do it, make him feel all weak and submissive for you. He waits patiently as you climb off him to get your strap-on. His palms are sweating and his cock is as hard as it can be as he watched you put on the harness. He didn't think someone could look as elegant and beautiful as you did while putting on a strap on.

The silicon end of the strap was a hot angry red, and matched with the red heels you still wore and your red lips intact from the smudge-proof lipstick makes Jihoon want to moan just looking at you. It's impossible for any being to look as sexy as you did at that moment. When you climbed back on the bed, pulling a lube bottle from the night table, his mouth almost watered at the sight of you.

You got between his legs, pulling his knees to either side of your hips so his ass was raised just enough for you to slip a hand under. You coated your fingers with an adequate amount of lube before circling his puckering hole, slipping in a digit. It made Jihoon arch his back with a moan muffled by his arm covering his mouth. 

He'd cleaned himself before meeting you, but he was still tight. Your fingers were gentle, easing him at a comfortable pace. You leaned back down to his neck, nipping over the skin to mark your territory. You pushed his arm from his mouth, “let me hear you, beautiful.” 

Jihoon was very vocal in bed, more so when he was submissive. Your fingers felt amazing on him. When he eased around one, you pushed another finger in, your hand caressing his thighs comfortingly. 

Your fingers curled inside him, close enough to his prostate, making him whimper your name. You move up again, hungry for his lips, kissing him messily and sloppily as he moans against your mouth. 

“Baby, do you think you're ready yet?” You ask him and he nods positively. Your silicone cock is big, bigger than him probably, but he thinks he could take you now. Besides, he'd like a little stretch of it too.

You smile against his lips, taking out your fingers and coating your cock with more lube. You enter the tip first, watching the man under you press his face into the pillow beside him, his drool sticking out as he moaned, taking the rest of it too. He relaxed around it, giving you a go to move.

You slam your hips against his, earning another loud sound from him. You couldn't care less about making noise, you lived in a penthouse with thick walls. You wanted to hear Jihoon moan and whimper your name, drink in his sweet noises. 

As you accelerated the pace, Jihoon arched his back, whimpering little ah-ah-ah’s, clutching the bedsheets under him you held his thighs up, hosting his right knee on your shoulder to get the perfect angle to get to his prostate every time. 

You loved the way Jihoon fell apart under you. You could tell he was close already, so you take hold of his leaking cock, giving it attention it needed finally. Not long after Jihoon is shooting white ropes all over his stomach, breathing heavily. 

You bend down and kiss the satisfied smile on his lips, slowly exiting him as he relaxed down there. You took a few tissues from the night table and cleaned up Jihoon and yourself lazily before taking off your strap and heels. You lied down beside him, pulling a blanket over the two of you. You didn't need to be told that Jihoon wanted to cuddle, so you slipped on top of him yourself, resting your cheek against his shoulder and wrapping a hand around his waist.

“Felt good, baby?”

“Mm, s’good,” Jihoon sighed, hugging you tighter. Tonight was indeed productive. Not only did Jihoon get fucked up so good after so long, but he was also inspired by you(r red cock) and finally had a name for the track he'd been working on lately: Ruby.

[mermaidgirl30]

✨Dark Shades of Innocence Lost Epilogue✨

Club Owner! Joel Miller x fem! reader

Series Masterlist

A/N: Thank you to @alltheirdamn for beta reading for me and loving Joel and Angel as much as I do 🥹 This series has meant the world to me, and it’s been so healing to write. I can’t wait to write a whole book about them 🥰

Chapter Summary: As days turn to long months, your love for Joel only grows stronger. And tonight, you’re right back where it all began.

Word Count: 2.1k

Rating: 18+ only MDNI

Tags: Just a lot of fluff and Joel and Angel being in love 🥹

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Three Months Later

The vibrant colors of pink and shades of ruby reds fill your peripheral vision as you make your way through Club Inferno, which is now called Angel’s Place. A place that’s become like a second home; a place you’ve come to love because this is Joel’s, and he’s made it as much yours as it is his.

As you pass the lit-up bar, you nod to Tommy, who’s standing behind the bar in his black leather jacket, conversing with one of the blonde bartenders. He smiles your way, and that big grin nearly covers his entire face when he lifts a glass of whiskey to you and pushes locks of greasy black hair back into place.

Tommy feels like as much a part of your family as Joel is now, and you can’t imagine not having either of them in your life. They anchored you when you were slipping under the stormy waves, pulling you free from the darkness and impending doom. You won’t ever thank them enough for showing you what a real family feels like but also what stability feels like.

Giving him a friendly wave, you turn and push your way through the rowdy crowd, stepping into the quiet hallway that’s draped with muted pink lights and hanging mirrors. Your heart thunders in your chest the closer you get to Joel’s office, overly excited to see your favorite person in the entire world who’s also the absolute love of your life.

Your love. Yours.

Smiling ridiculously wide to the point where your face hurts, you stand in front of those glossy black doors, the ones that’ll lead you to Joel. When you flick your eyes up, they become a little misty each time you stare at your mark he imprinted on his club.

A sign that’s the color of a light pink blush sparkles on top of the door, and the name takes your breath away every single time your eyes trace over those words. Angel’s Place marks the wall with sparkly wings that hover on the outsides of the name. And it feels like it's yours more and more each time you see it glowing in the hallway.

He told you he put it right over his office because that’s where you belong, with him. And it’s probably one the sweetest things he’s ever done. No one has ever gone through this much effort for you, but Joel did. In fact, he gave you the entire world.

God. You love this man with every fiber of your being, and you don’t think you’ll ever stop. He’s everything you’ve ever wanted.

Latching your hand against the large door handle, you turn it and step through the heavy doors, immediately met with the smell of spearmint, whiskey, and scents of freshly chopped wood. Joel’s signature scents. Your favorite smells. You waft in his presence and lean against the now closed door, your eyes staring straight into the center of the room at your man.

He’s wearing one of his favorite green flannels, sleeves rolled up to the elbows to expose those thick, veiny arms you love to get wrapped up in. His tousled dark locks are slicked back by some expensive gel, and you can’t help but smile at how gorgeous he looks under the dim lighting of his office. Even with his nose stuck in some paperwork, you think he’s the handsomest man you’ve ever seen. And you just can’t believe he’s yours.

He sighs and flips over a stack of white papers, groaning into the air. “Tommy, not right now. I said I’m…”

“I’m not Tommy,” you giggle.

Joel looks up from his piled up paperwork, and a wide grin slowly spreads over his plush mouth. The mouth you love to kiss. “You sure as hell ain’t, sweetheart.”

“You busy?” you ask sweetly, letting your hand linger on the painted door as you pull away and start to head toward his mahogany desk.

“Never too busy for my girl. C’mere.” He throws the stack of papers out of his hands, not even caring that some fly over the desk onto the floor. Pushing his leather office chair back, he coaxes you forward, curling his thick fingers in a come hither motion until you’re close enough to where he can reach you. He snatches your hips and pulls you onto his lap, his strong arms circling your waist until you’re face to face with him.

“Hi,” he smiles, pushing a loose strand of hair behind the shell of your ear.

“Hi,” you purr back, your hands locking around his neck. “I missed you today.”

“Not as much as I missed you, Angel. Been dreamin’ about kissin’ those pretty red lips of yours all damn day,” he says, his fingertips trailing down your skin and lingering on your cheek, making you blush from the affection that’s slipping from his glistening brown eyes.

“Well, now you can, handsome.” You part your full lips and give him a big smile, and he just can’t stop staring in awe, like you’re a diamond in the rough. You’re his diamond.

“C’mere then, babygirl.” He tugs you flush to his chest and presses his lips against yours, eliciting a deep sigh when his mouth melds to yours. He tastes like whiskey and smells like an autumn day, out in the woods where pine trees and chestnuts permeate throughout the cool air.

He smells like your favorite scent, and you want to bottle it up and keep it forever. Maybe make your own perfume so you can smell like him every time you’re apart.

He’s got you hooked, and you’ll never be able to let go.

“God, I’ll never get tired of kissin’ you. You’re sweeter than anything I’ve ever tasted before,” he pants out through messy kisses, reeling you back in to lick inside your mouth.

You open wider, allowing him to swallow your moans whole with every stroke of his tongue, hands roaming through his tousled hair, making him groan into your mouth while his fingers press further into your hips. It’s like the room is on fire, and both of your bodies are the center of the heated flames.

“You’re so fuckin’ beautiful, Angel,” he mouths, nipping at your bottom lip and teasing you on.

“Oh, Joel. Stop. You’re making me blush,” you giggle, nuzzling your nose against his in an affectionate way.

“Well, s’true. You’re the sweetest thing that’s ever walked into my life. And I want you to know, you make me the happiest man in the world.” He smiles and kisses your cheek, his lips dragging along the shell of your ear, nipping and teasing as he elicits another giggle from your lips.

“And you, Joel Miller, make me the happiest woman. I love you.” You curl your fingers over the soft material of his green collar and stare into beautiful brown eyes.

“Not as much as I love you, Angel. You really know how to make a man’s life light up with that beautiful smile of yours.” He pushes your hair to the side and slowly plays with the strands like they’re guitar strings, his fingers expertly working as they drag along the back of your head.

Another groan and you’re tugging him forward. “Come here, handsome.” Your mouths meet again, hot and fiery like the first night you met him, simmering sparks flying across the warm air as your lips lock together. There’s a hunger in his kiss, like he wants to devour you whole, but he’s also so gentle, and you think he’s the perfect combination. He’s dominant and soft. So very soft.

When your lips break apart and your ragged breaths fill the air, he cups your cheeks in his large palms and a soft smile curls against his mouth. “Why don’t we take this in the back, where it all began.”

You smile and crawl off his lap, locking your fingers with his as you tug him forward. “Take me to the back then, Mr. Club Owner.”

He chuckles and licks his bottom lip, pulling you out of his office and back into the dark hallway, back where it all began. “Follow me then, Angel.”

You gladly follow after him, your glittery heels clicking against the polished floor, his eyes dark and dangerous, a smirk curled against his mouth. His eyes flick back and forth between you and the last door in the hallway, and your heart pounds impossibly fast at the possibilities of tonight.

You haven’t been back in this room in weeks, but tonight is your lucky night. Because this room right here is where everything began. It’s where you found all-consuming pleasure, where you found this dominant yet gentle man, where you fell in love with those big sappy brown eyes you want to drown in, and now he’s all yours. Now you’re free. Free to love, to be vulnerable, to express your feelings without any consequences.

Joel freed you from your dark shades; now you’re just a swirl of vibrant, glittering colors that paint the sky bright hues of pinks and violets.

He tugs you through the sleek doors and leads you across the shiny floor, past the embers of the crackling fireplace, right to the felt-topped pool table. Wrapping his arms around your waist tight, he picks you up and lays you down against the soft velvety material and crawls over you, your legs splayed wide as he hovers over you, his lips brushing softly against yours.

His arms cage you in, his broad body crowding your space until you can’t smell anything but him crashing against you like a rolling wave. Your body hums with electricity, the blood pumping through your veins violently, and your center is already slick for him, ready to take on anything he has for you.

“Look at us, right back where it all started,” he hums, the pads of his fingers brushing locks of hair behind your ear, trailing them down down down until he’s hiking the skirt of your dress up, teasing you slowly and gently.

“Look at us,” you whisper back, eyes glistening like gold when he tips his head down and looks at you with those soft, sappy brown eyes you just can’t get enough of. If you had an option, you’d fall right into them, let him drown you until all you can see is him.

He’s all you ever want to see. Forever.

His lips brush against yours as light as a feather, and you melt into the pool table, letting your fingernails trace against his greying scruff, tangling your other hand at the back of his neck in those smooth curls that feel like silk.

“You gonna be mine forever, Angel?” he smiles, leaving a trail of kisses down your cheek and ending at the base of your neck.

“Mmm, yes. I’m yours, Joel. Forever and ever. I’ve always been yours.”

His lips crash into yours like a tidal wave, everything else in the room fading to black. It’s just you and Joel, your pink shades mixing with his dark reds, colliding into mere bliss as the kiss envelops you fully.

He pulls off just enough to mutter those three words you love to hear repeatedly. “I love you, Angel. Always have and always will.”

“And I love you, handsome. You’re my forevermore.”

His lips fall back on yours, and then the night fades away while he makes passionate love to you on top of the pool table. But this time it’s not just lust. No. It’s a beautiful, everlasting love that can move mountains.

Your love for Joel is infinite, as is his. You had to go through the dark times to find the light, and Joel showed you that light. He lit every single spotlight he could find and pulled you out of the dark pits of despair. He saved you in every way a girl would want to be saved.

He was the reason you found love again. He was your savior, and he gave you wings so you could fly. He showed you what it was like to be fully loved, and it was beautiful like a brand new pair of white wings.

And when you couldn’t fly; he caught you and taught you how to fly again. He was your safety net, and you finally knew what it felt like to be loved.

Joel is love, and he’s everything you’ll ever need.

This club, this room is a sacred place. It’s Joel’s and yours. And it’s where your love will continue to grow, forever.

[danurso]

NWN Challenge

*At a nice bar in Atlas*

Ruby: You’re still dealing with the fallout of that mess?

Blake: Of course. As the head of the white fang I can't just clean up a mess and ignore what caused it and who was affected by it…..*sigh* The last thing I want is people thinking we’re slipping back into what we used to be years back.

Yang: Good thing your pops is really good at de-escalating, well that and Weiss’ PR team.

Blake: Yeah. Where is her by the way? I wanted to thank her personally for all the help.

Ruby: She said she was coming, something came up during work.

Yang: Or someone. If Jaune went to visit she might be an hour or so late.

Blake: That. . . . . . probably isn't the case.

Yang: Why?

Blake: *nods* Because she doesn't look like she just had a good time.

The trio then turned to see a familiar heiress coming in, looking like she was about to murder someone.

Weiss: *sits down on the table*

Bartender: What will it be mi-

Weiss: Vodka. Pure. And make it a triple.

Yang: Yeesh. Someone got up on the wrong side of the bed today.

Ruby: What happened?

Blake: Who did you kill?

Weiss: He's not dead, the doctors said just broke a few bones.

R_BY: . . . . . . . .

Weiss: . . . .what?

Blake: . . . . .i was joking.

Weiss: Oh. . . .right. . . . .

Ruby: Wait, wait, you tried to kill someone!?

Weiss: I didn't! I just exaggerated a bit while dealing with a jerk.

Yang: What happened?

Weiss: . . . . .*sigh* I was venting to Winter about some private things about Jaune, as soon as she left an associate came in, he must've heard something about what we're talking, because as soon as we were done talking business he tried asking me out.

Yang: Doesn't everyone at the company know you just married?

Weiss: They do and he knew about it. But he insisted saying we could do something “fun” and that he could “Give me what i needed” since my husband wasn't doing so.

Ruby: Oh gods. . . . . .

Yang: Hah!

Blake: Like, I understand why that made you angry, but did you have to send the guy to the hospital?

Weiss: Not really, but i’ve been having a really stressful week and even after i said no multiple times, he kept pushing, and the moment he got too close i catapulted him out of the room with a glyph, though because of everything i miscalculated and sent him through a wall instead of the door.

Yang: *laughs* Please send me the video whenever you can! I wanna see that.

Ruby: Well, jerk aside, is everything okay? You sound like there's been stress even before that.

Bartender: Here miss. *Puts down her drink*

Weiss: Thanks.

Blake: Is everything okay at home? You said you were venting about Jaune, is everything okay between you two?

Weiss: No! The last three weeks been awful! HE has been awful!

Blake: Wait what?

Yang: Wow, That's a surprise.

Ruby: But why? What's wrong with Jaune?

Weiss: He’s been the worst! I keep having to deal with issues at the company! Cleaning the mess my father made! And then, after an awful day of work, what am I greeted with!?

Yang: A blown up house?

Blake: Another woman?

Ruby: Jaune wouldn't do that blake! Geez. . . . .Oh! Was it maybe a dead body?

Weiss: No! As soon as I come in he greets me with that stupid! Bright! And warm smile! He hugs me tight goes on about missing me soooo much! He covers me in kisses! Takes me in to show the warm bath he prepared for me! The house which is basically spotless and the dinner which was my favorite! Aaaarggh! Just thinking about it makes my blood boil! *Chugs the drink*

Ruby: . . . . . . . .

Yang: . . . . . . . .

Blake: . . . . . . . . . .that's it?

Weiss: Oh no. No no no, it gets worse. After dinner he brings me a whole cheesecake! Freshly made! And after we ate he took me to the living room and massaged every corner of my stressed body! I felt like I was melting! Oh gods the nerve of that man!!!

Yang: Wow, sounds like a nightmare.

Weiss: I know! Because it is!

Blake: *deadpan* Is it though?

Ruby: Err, Weiss? Are you sure there's a problem there? Because you make it sound like he's doing something bad but apparently he's been really sweet to you.

Weiss: I know! And it's unbearable!

Ruby: But why?

Weiss: BECAUSE IT'S NOVEMBER RUBY!!!

R_BY: Ohhhh. . . . .

Blake: He’s doing that dumb challenge too? I thought it was just Sun.

Ruby: *sigh* Nah, Oscar was doing it too.

Yang: Sounds like a headache. Lucky me and Arslan don't struggle with that stuff.

Blake: Yes, because she's not a guy, they tend to be incredibly stubborn about the stupidest things. Well, as stubborn as you can be with someone who knows all your weaknesses.

Ruby: Got him to give up?

Blake: Around a week in, would’ve been sooner if i wasn't busy with the fang. Oscar giving you trouble?

Ruby: Nope. He went for ten days straight, then he walked in on me coming out of the shower and he snapped. *Chuckles* I wasn't even trying to make him lose.

Weiss: *eyebrow twitching* Good to know I'm the only one suffering here.

Yang: Come on ice cream. You know that guy is basically addicted to you, if you give him a push in the right direction I'm pretty sure he’ll just crumble.

Weiss: And you think I haven't tried!? Skimpy swimsuits, Lingeries, Nudes throughout the day, dirty comments, cosplaying his favorite characters, offering to do the most questionable things! I used every last trick in the book and he STILL didn't cave in!

Yang: Oh, wow.

Blake: I knew he had a strong will but this is still surprising to hear.

Weiss: It's so frustrating! I get to come back home every day to the most wonderful husband in the world, who pampers and looks after me, doing everything I wish and making me the happiest woman in Remnant! And you tell me I can't ride him to oblivion after all that!? It's unfair!!! Utter Injustice!!! I wished I knew who came up with this challenge so I could strangle them until they're blue!!!

Yang: *chuckles* I can't tell if you're angrier at not getting laid for three weeks now or at him for not falling for your charms.

Weiss: BOTH!!!

Ruby: I mean, you said you tried everything but it doesn't sound like it.

Weiss: I did Ruby. I most certainly did! And wore basically anything you could imagine, I went as far as to wear things that, if images were leaked online, my life would be ruined and Blake would never talk to me again.

Yang: . . . . . . .you wore a-

Blake: *covers her mouth* Please don't, I’d rather our friendship still exist by the end of the night. For once in my life i do NOT wanna know.

Yang: *pushes her out* Wow. You really pulled all the stops.

Weiss: And it did nothing to him!!! *Depressed sigh*

Ruby: I mean, so far it sounds like all you did was dress up and act sexy to try and make him cave in.

Weiss: What else was I supposed to do!?

Ruby: Did you forget who you're married to? It's pretty easy to get him to bend and do what you want once you pin his weakness down.

Weiss: . . . . . .that sounded very wrong, especially being about my husband.

Ruby: What? I never abused that weakness mind you! He's my best friend, I could never!

Yang: Unless he has your favorite cookies.

Ruby: *pink* That's different!

Weiss: Spit it out already!

Ruby: *sigh* . . . . .fine. but he ever asks, you didn't learn this from me.

-

Weiss: *walks in* I’m home.

Jaune: *wearing pajamas* Hey, how was your night? *Hugs her* Everyone doing well?

Weiss: Yeah. *Kisses him* Everyone is doing well.

Jaune: I left some food for you in the microwave, wasn’t sure if you would eat out so i made something.

Weiss: It's fine, we got something to eat on the way back.

Jaune: I’ll pack it up for tomorrow then. *Walking to the kitchen* By the way, Whitley called. He said something about a guy you sent to the hospital. Is everything okay at work?

Weiss: Yeah, someone tried hitting on me earlier, and I accidentally used too much force to push him off when he tried to get too close.

Jaune: *storing the food* Ouch. Almost makes me feel bad for him. . . . .almost. *feels a pair of arms wrapping around his torso from behind.* . . . . . .Weiss?

Weiss: *inhale* . . . . . .*deep exhale*

Jaune: *serious* Weiss. . . . .that guy didn't hurt you, did he?

Weiss: *chuckles* Good to know my knight is still there to protect me if I ever need, I thought he ended up buried under my cute husband.

Jaune: Weiss-

Weiss: He did nothing, just a few sweet words which I already forgot. I just wanted to hug you.

Jaune: If you say so, then I believe you. What do you wanna do now?

Weiss: Bed. I’m tired, could you come with me though?

Jaune didn't answer, he only turned around and picked her up in his arms, making her chuckle in response, he took her to the bedroom and helped her out of her clothes and into her nightgown, and soon enough, they were both in bed cuddling.

Weiss: *Chuckling*

Jaune: What’s so funny?

Weiss: Nothing. I’m just happy.

Jaune: That's good to hear. You seemed a little stressed these last few days.

Weiss: Yeah. . . .but I'm fine now. In fact, I couldn't be happier.

Jaune: Really?

Weiss: Of course. *Hugs him closer* I’ve got a nice house, a good job, great friends and above all else *Looks up to him* the most wonderful husband in the world.

Jaune: *pink, scratching his cheek* Hehehe, I’m just doing what I can. It's not a big deal.

Weiss: It is for me. . . .for someone who grew up in a cold house, surrounded by people I couldn't trust, having someone that I can trust and love this much is everything.

Jaune: Weiss. . . . .

Weiss: You never ignore me, you always know when I'm not okay, you look after my every need, you go above and beyond to make me happy, and you know me even better than I do myself. I must've been a saint in a past life to be blessed with someone so wonderful as you are. I wanna stay like this and hold on to you for the rest of my life. *Angelic smile* Thank you for marrying me, my love.

Jaune: . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

-

Jaune: *naked on the bed and spooning her* God damnit. . . . .

Weiss: *sweaty and giggling*

Jaune: I can't believe I fell for that.

Weiss: Fell for what~? I was being honest, you know?

Jaune: I know! And that makes it even more of a dirty move!

Weiss: My heart bleeds for you.

Jaune: *groan* I was just a week away. I resisted everything you threw at me and this is how I lost?

Weiss: Yep. I thought there was no way out until a certain someone reminded me how weak you are to someone being genuinely emotional with you.

Jaune: It was Ruby wasn't it? Every time i have her favorite cookies she'll go on this emotional speech about how much it matters to her that i’m her best friend and all we went through, and when i realize i already gave her the cookies.

Weiss: I won't confirm nor deny anything.

Jaune: Ugh, figures.

Weiss: *turns to him* Oh please, you say it as if you didn't like it.

Jaune: Of course I did, I've been craving you for weeks.

Weiss: Good to hear, I felt the same.

Jaune: Just don't do that next year or I'm telling Blake about your secret costumes.

Weiss: You’re doing that again next year!?

Jaune: *chuckles* That's your main concern?

Weiss: Of course I am! These last three weeks have been hell!

Jaune: If that's the case. . . .*on top of her* Then let me take you to paradise.

Weiss: *pink* That wasn't enough for you?

Jaune: Nowhere near enough to make up for these three weeks. You gotta work Tomorrow?

Weiss: Not really, they have to fix the wall in my office so. . . . .

Jaune: Good. You won't have to make up an excuse then. Might need one for after tomorrow though.

Weiss: *red* . . . . . . .I’m in danger aren't i?

Jaune: The plan was to win the challenge and slowly ease back into routine. You tricked me into losing so now I’m giving you what you want, all of it.

Weiss: *redder* C-can we talk about this for a mome-AAHHHH~!?!?

[rhadamanthes]

Seashore and more. Sukuna x reader

word count : 2,7 k

warnings : side satoru x reader, voyeurism, pervert sukuna, kind of stalker sukuna, oral sex fem receiving, panty stealing, panty sniffing, body worship, obssesive behavior, breeding kink, lot of pet name, praise, biting, marking

Sukuna has been watching you all night he always does. You caught up on it of course you're a smart girl, but you don't mind, his attention on you feels so good. Drink in hand, from the corner of the room his ruby eyes never missed a single movement of yours. You went from dancing with the bartender to dancing on the table with your girlfriends. Seems like you're distracted and you have fun. The occasion is perfect for him, finishing his drink Sukuna slips away from the hotel's lounge. Using the elevator he stops on your floor. The first day you all arrived at this stupid rich kid summer camp he couldn't help but search for your room you're staying in. Number 308, there you are. The door is cracked open. Are you really that careless ? Even though you're staying in a luxurious hotel with a strong security system this is still dangerous. 

If it wasn't for his brother Yuuji that insisted for him to participate to this camp, he'd probably stayed cozily at home, people here are loud and obnoxious, it's the same group of friend then back home, but somehow, they're even more insufferable on the other side of the world. Yuuji killers' argument was, your presence. Of course,  how can Sukuna stay away from you for such a long time. Spying your social media daily won't do, he needed the real thing. So he finally obliged.

Letting his body through the crack he pushes the door as he found it before. Your room is spacious but there's clothes clustered all over the floor, the smell of your perfume still lingers in the air. A smirk crosses his lips, you're wearing his favorite tonight. Wasting no time he moves to the section that interests him : the closet. Ruffling through your underwear he can't believe how many panties you bring for 2 weeks. Sure if he takes one you won't notice right ? Pocketing a pair of purple laced panties, he froze hearing voices in the corridor. It's your voice, but you're not alone who the fuck are you bringing up here ? he doesn't have the time to ask himself more questions quickly hiding in the closet shutting the door. Thankfully they're made of wooden stripes so he can see what's going on. And he cannot believe his eyes.

Satoru Gojo, the imbecile impersonified is kissing you with all his might. Kneading your body, he walks towards the bed until you both fall on it. He wants to burst the door open and beat Satoru to a pulp but he can't. You'll freak out if you see him here in the first place. clenching his fist he hopes you'll let this madness end. Kissing your body down to your pussy. Satoru, take off your panties. It's lacy black with some rhinestones on the side. Sukuna jaw grince at the sight, this one is tainted with your scent. 

"Can I keep it?" Satoru asks, pouting. You snatch it from his hands hiding the underwear between your pillows.

"This cost a fortune and you have the real deal in front of you, get to work " you complain.

Sighing, Satoru dips his head between your thighs. From his spot Sukuna his boiling how can you let this man touch you so willingly. Through all this rage he admits that seeing you like this turns him on, your face is on the side directly facing him eyes closed as the prettiest moan escapes your dainty lips. All of sudden the room's door opens and Sukuna recognizes one of the girls you were dancing with earlier. Satoru jumps from his spot and you just stand on your elbow.

"They're playing please don't stop the music" she yells squealing in a drunken way.

You gasp, putting your dress back on your thigh, trotting excitedly out of the room. Satoru is sitting on his knees looking at your disappearing form as you ditched him for a 3 minute song. He gets up, looking around for a second and laughs when seeing the bed. Sukuna wants to scream right now, why is he getting the used pantie when he just had to satisfy himself with a stupidly clean one ?Before Satoru can reach the pillow your voice resonates in the room.

"Get out before I drag you by your hair" Satoru shoulders slumps in defeat, making his way out.

Sukuna laughs to himself finally getting out of the closet. He hurriedly makes his way to the bed where his trophy awaits him.  Taking the underwear in his hand he put it on his face smelling your scent and moaning in the process. How sweet, is this the price for watching the previous torture ? well he gladly took it going back to the lounge with more than he bargained for. 

✿      ۪⋆

The next morning your head pounds from all the alcohol you drank, the loud music and all the dancing.You're in the lobby waiting for the breakfast to be served but it takes so much time you snoop behind the bar, catching a few strawberries and a glass of apple juice. Making your way back to your bedroom you almost get knocked over. Clutching the glass so it doesn't splash everywhere, you raise your head to meet Sukuna's stare. A smile instantly forms on your lips.

"Fancy seeing you here~" you tease him. 

It's a surprise for you and everybody that he's here. He usually avoids gathering as best as he can, so for one that lasts two weeks it's very odd to see him here. You can't help but want to get on his nerves. 

"Already on champagne ?" he asks, ignoring your greeting.

"It's apple juice, I'm not that far gone" you scoff, biting into one of the strawberries you stole. An idea crosses your mind, with your half eaten fruit you reach for his mouth. Before it can even get remotely close to his face both your wrists are pinned against your belly. The glass of juice falls on the ground, spreading its liquid everywhere. You gasp at the mess.

"I was trying to be nice, no need to be in doberman mode."

"And i don't need to be fed" he states plainly, gripping your wrists harder. 

You dramatically hiss, not being really in pain just wanting to extrude a reaction for him, he only squints his eyes.

"Help me finish my breakfast at least" you say, wiggling your wrist still holding the strawberry. 

Lowering his gaze to your hand he brings it to your lips. you open your mouth slightly, never breaking eye contact. Biting more into the tender fruit you purposefully make a mess, juice running down his finger and you lick it off. His jaw clenches at the feeling of your pink muscle on his rough skin. He let go of your wrists turning back to leave. 

"Sukuna wait!" you call "We're having a boat day today, come with us ! It will be spacious enough for you to be alone but also to join if you want to socialize." you chuckle.  He gives you a hard stare over his shoulder but you can distinguish a slight nod.  "Can't wait to see your bathing suit!" you yell as he's already far down the hallway.

By the time everybody gets on the boat your headache has toned down a bit, the heat still makes you feel a bit dizzy but nothing you can't manage. The atmosphere is lighthearted. The group shared a meal together, Yuuji brought his speaker, and everybody's chatting. The yacht is sailing through the sea and stopping at various spots so you can enjoy the water. You took a dive but you're lezarding on the sunbed now. It's past noon, the sun shows no mercy and you slowly feel the migraine creeping back on. You decide to retreat from the sun and go cool down in the inner part of the boat.

"Don't be a party pooper" you hear Suguru's honeyed voice. Putting your sunglasses on top of your head, you look at him.

"Just going to lay down for a bit i'm burning" you chuckle rubbing his shoulder. He nods, kissing the top of your head. Everybody says goodbye to you and you go inside. The immediate temperature change makes you shiver, you blink your eyes a few times to get used to the change of light.  Once you can see clearly again, you go down the steps and notice that someone is already on the bed. A smile spreads on your features. Not anybody, it's Sukuna. His legs are dangling off the mattress, he's shirtless, wearing a dark purple trunk, one of his tattooed arms is covering his eyes. Making less noise possible you close the distance between the both of you, straddling him

"Tired of us already ?" you taunt laying your hands flat on his chest. 

Feeling your ass on his crotch Sukuna freezes, pushing your body off of him. He takes his time to look at you, you're wearing a white low cut bikini with cherry printed all over it. Shit, the fabric highlight your curves, you look fucking perfect right now. His jaw clenches and he resumes his previous position. You're frustrated with his lack of reaction, as much as you love to tease him, the fact that he never snaps drives you crazy. He always looks like he's about to bend but he never does. Is he a gentleman in disguise ? Taking matter in your own hands you plant kisses all over his jaw you try to go further down until his hand grabs the back of your neck freezing you in place. 

"What are you doing?" he grits through his teeth, losing patience. 

"Whatever I want. Don't you think I saw you stare at my tits you pervert" you say, caressing his clothed cock, laying your head in his stomach. 

"It's your stupid bikini" he says looking in your eyes

"Stupid ? I thought it was cute" you pout pushing on his chest to stand straight breaking his hold on you. "It doesn't matter, help me take it off" you add gathering your hair on one side to free your neck. 

His hand goes from your thigh to your lower back up to the knot tying the bathing suit in your neck. His skin is so warm against yours, you close your eyes in delight. Sukuna sits up not wanting to miss a single moment of what is about to unravel. Pulling on the string softly the upper part of the bikini falls and your tits bounce free. Sukuna have been dreaming about this moment for so long he can't believe it, your skin look soft, he can distinguish tan line adorning your boobs, fuck he wants to eat you whole. He grunt your name and you open your eyes, his face is so close to yours. Admiring his features, you place a soft kiss on his lips, a try, you want to see his reaction. His breath intensifies, you give him another this time before you can break free, he's holding the back of your head to deepen the kiss. You moan into his mouth finally, getting what you want. His free hand goes to your chest and kneads at your boobs, pinching your sensitive nipples. 

Eager to touch him too, you let your hand slide under his swimsuit , gripping the base of his cock, he's already half hard, you can feel the pent up frustration in the way he touches and kisses you. You start slow stroking motion and he moans into the kiss. You can already feel your pussy getting wet. Sukuna breaks the kiss and he looks hungrier than ever, his eyes are so dark, his lips shine from the heated kiss you shared. Lowering his gaze he looks at your small hand around his shaft and curses under his breath. Laying your body on the mattress he starts to full on biting at your flesh, no area is spared, your shoulder your neck, tits, tummy and thigh. 

"Mine" he grunts between each bite. 

You moan feeling more wanted than you ever have been. His teeth pull the string of the lower part of your bikini and you're naked in front of him. He takes a second to admire you, in your simplest attire. He groans and hides his face in your soft tummy, he nuzzles in it, kissing and licking at your skin. Going lower he wastes no time capturing your clit in his mouth sucking noisily on it, he moans like a starved man against it and the vibration makes you arch your back off the mattress.

"Sukuna, god" you pant, griping on his hair. His tongue is so precise against your sensitive bud you can already feel yourself getting close. "Stop please, I want to come on your cock" you beg closing your thigh around his face. Getting on his feet he looms over you nodding his head, you never saw him like that he looks high holding your face he rests his forehead against yours. 

"I'm going to make you feel good doll hm?" he coos, locking your legs around his waist.

You nod, impatient to feel his cock ruining your insides.Sukuna plants a sweet kiss on your lips and you can taste your own arousal. He fists himself a few times before entering your pussy in one go. Your eyes shut close at the stretch, you dig your nails in his arms. 

"God you're perfect, so tight for me my little dove." he purrs, ramming slowly into you. He makes you feel so safe and loved, you relax in no time.

"Fuck Sukuna you feel so good" you moan 

"I know my love" he pants kissing you, messily this time, his tongue exploring your mouth; licking at every part of it. You can tell he's been wanting this for a long time too. His thrust fills you with pleasure as he reaches your most sensitive part, His repeated assault on your g-spot makes you clench around him. He howls in pleasure, his head going backward. Soon he folds you into a mating press in a way you can only take his cock and moan out loud like an animal in heat. 

"Say that you're mine" he growls gripping hard on your hips. A bit out of it you just nod your head. Not pleased at all Sukuna takes you jaws in his hand forcing you to look at him "Say it" he whispers.

You feel the tears welling up in your eyes ``I'm yours Sukuna, always been" you cry kissing the palm of his hand. Saying it out loud makes you feel weak but the way he looks at you... He's hungry and looks proud for you to be  his. A knot forms in your belly ready to snap under his ministrations. Satisfied with your answers he dips his head in your neck pounding onto you until your legs trash around him in your release. You're a moaning mess as he continues to ram inside of your sensitive cunt chasing his own high. A moment later you feel his warm seed tainting your insides. Sukuna collapses on top of you breathing heavily. 

You caress his back as you already came down from your high. Sukuna shifts your bodies so you're both on your sides facing each other. Tired, you smile at him tracing the tattoos on his face. His eyes never leave yours, the silence is comforting until you break it. 

"So was this better than to peek from a closet or a shower curtain?" you ask teasingly. The confusion displays clearly on his face. You knew he was there last night ? and back home the times he sneaks into your apartment ?  but you didn't say anything ? 

"What ? You didn't think that I wouldn't notice your presence ?" you scoff "I'm a woman who lives alone i'd be crazy to be that careless" 

"So yesterday you let the door open for me ?" he asks dumbfounded. You nod tracing his lips with your thumb. "The underwear under the pillow was for me too?" 

"Who else for? my dirty pervert" you giggle, kissing his lips.

So you've been playing with him all this time, you're as sick as him, you might just be his soulmate shit he's getting hard again.

[deceptive-daydreams]

Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 6 | Ch. 7 | Ch. 8 | Ch. 9 | Ch. 10 | Ch. 11 | Ch. 12 | Ch. 13 | Ch. 14 |

Smoke Signals

Chapter Seven - Halloween

W/C: 10K

Eddie x Fem reader - Grumpy!Bartender!Eddie x Shy!Reader

Or where you show up to the town's biggest Halloween Bash and you unexpectantly take on the roll of a babysitter.

A/N: this is a long one..and tbh some of it isn't edited...but i'm super excited about this one but also nervous.

Masterlist

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Bass bumped through the unfamiliar house, vibrating all the way down the driveway and to the street where you stood.  Shouting could be heard, no doubt a collection of drunks getting overly excited about something usually mundane.  Fog smothered the driveway, a decision you felt was made by someone sober at the time of setting it up only to neglect the fact that everyone would be wasted by the time it got dark, sending people tumbling down the driveway in their drunken state.  It did add to the atmosphere though, a nice touch that gave it that eerie, spooky feel the owner was probably going for.  

As you trekked up the lengthy and steep driveway, a mock graveyard sat to the right, taking up the space that would usually be the front yard.  Fake limbs stuck out of the dirt and splatters of blood painted the plastic headstones.   A lonely skeleton sat propped up against one, his arm hanging around it as if it were his good friend.  Some pumpkins appeared to be slaughtered and littered throughout the yard, the guts surely rotting in the grass and in one of the trees, hung a hopefully fake body, swaying in the chilly breeze.

From what you had heard, the owners went all out every year, Halloween night being their specialty.  The closer to the house you got, the louder the music and the louder the voices got.  Donnie had told you that it would be a rager but you severely underestimated her words and took them as a joke.  You were already hesitant to even attend but now, you were fully questioning if you should even dare to step through the door.  It’d be smart to turn around now and go home, maybe watch a few movies and indulge in that candy you’d bought and placed in a large bowl on the coffee table at home.  Half of it was gone of course, you stealing a piece here and there throughout the past week.  You could stuff your face with the rest if you left now.  

No. 

You had to be brave and walk through that door with confidence.  Even if it was fake.  You were never going to meet new people if you kept hiding away in your tower.  This town was never going to feel like home if you didn't start treating it like it.  Donnie was the closest person you had to a friend and as much as you appreciated her, she was more than half your age and had a whole family already.  She mentioned that people ‘your age’ would definitely be at this party, everyone went to this party.

You can’t miss it.  She assured.

But on another hand, no one would miss you anyway, no one ever did.  Even if they did know of you.  There was no harm in trekking back down the driveway and rushing home to snuggle up in your pajamas, right?

No, you have to do this.  You have to push yourself out of your comfort zone even if it feels like you're diving off a cliff.  But what if everyone stares at you?  And whispers about how they didn’t invite you?  Donnie promised anyone who’s anyone attends this party, even people from a few town’s over who hear about it from a friend of a friend.  So why couldn’t you shake the feeling that you just didn’t belong?  That you were intruding.  

Everyone’s gonna hate me.

It was especially embarrassing that you were wearing a Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz costume.  It wasn’t even all that out there but you felt so uncomfortable without your standard wardrobe.  You felt as if your ruby red glittery heels would suddenly draw unwanted attention, your pigtails making a mockery out of you even if just for the costume.  Everyone dressed up so why were you the exception?  Why were you the only one they would single out, especially in such a common Halloween costume?  You were sure there would probably be much more flamboyant costumes, ghouls and goblins covered in blood, zombies with ungodly amounts of face paint, and even vampires with those ridiculous plastic teeth.  No one made fun of them so why were you so insecure?

Every possible outcome ran through your brain while you stalled on the doormat.  That is until two men dressed in chicken suits bursted through the door, cackling while they set up for a smoke break on the front porch, completely missing you as you stood there terrified.  They leaned over the railing as they went on, slurring about how crazy it was that someone had somehow punctured a hole in the keg, a seemingly impossible task.  

You took the opportunity to slip in through the cracked door, gently closing it behind you as you entered the chaos that was the famous Knife’s Edge Halloween Bash.  Strobe lights flashed in the corners of what you could make out as the living room and the regular light bulbs in the ceiling were all switched out for purple and green, adding to the ambience.  The floor was hidden beneath a sea of people dancing their hearts out to Thriller by Michael Jackson, some attempting to actually perform the dance, and others simply flailing their limbs around and hoping for the best.  

A rather convincing mummy was stealing the show, everyone else creating a circle around him as he danced like no one was watching.  Not one person glanced your way, either too intoxicated to notice or just unbothered seeing as there were already over a hundred people occupying the house.  The line of cars you’d seen up and down the street should have given that away but to be fair, you were too busy running circles in your head and rehearsing how you were going to walk in.  All of that went straight to the garbage once you saw the nature of the place.  

Everyone was too caught up in having fun to take note of a timid Dorothy sneaking through the front door.  Fun.  Something you couldn’t see yourself having unless you had at least a drink or two in you.  It’s sad but it was the only way to loosen up around such a large volume of people. Sobriety was not an option unless you wanted to remain an anxious fly on the wall.  

The only issue was finding the source of alcohol, more than likely in the kitchen which you had yet to locate.  In order to get anywhere, you would have to weave through the crowd of sweaty bodies, the smell of tequila and beer already filling your nostrils just by standing a few feet away from them.  

Taking a deep breath, you clutch your little wicker basket close to your body and begin squeezing in between people with a polite ‘excuse me’ accompanying every accidental touch.  Along the way you pass a preppy cheerleader, a few stereotypical vampires, a cowboy and a cow, a dentist, and some guy with a fake chainsaw covered in fake blood.  You’re finally able to see your destination just through a large archway, relief already finding you as you inch closer and closer. 

The kitchen’s fluorescent lighting is a major contrast to the purple and green throughout the rest of the house.  It still follows the spooky theme, however, with an orange tablecloth draped over the island and purple and orange streamers hanging from the doorway.  On the island sits a large punch bowl filled with mysterious red liquid along with a stack of red cups and a few choices of liquor next to it.  A bowl of pretzels and some Halloween themed cupcakes are placed next to that, and at the other end, is a bucket of candy along with some various kinds of chips.  

Hanging from the chandelier is a homemade ghost using a torn sheet, the eyes and mouth filled in with sharpie.  The floor is sticky as you slowly make your way forward, most likely the mysterious liquid that had been spilled several times throughout the night already.  More shouting can be heard from the living room, some kind of dance off being announced that you would gladly hide from.  So far, you didn’t recognize anyone although it would be pretty difficult to seeing as everyone was dressed up.

Gingerly, you grab a cup and scoop the smallest amount of the mystery liquid in.  Upon taking the tiniest sip, you can determine that it's some kind of jungle juice.  A hangover in a cup.  With disgust written on your face, you discreetly throw out the remaining juice in the sink, instead opting to take a shot or two to loosen up.  Maybe just one for now.  You learned your lesson when taking four straight tequila shots at a time and didn’t need a repeat.  Especially at a party with several hundred people as witnesses.

So you fill the bottom of your cup with some whiskey, a generous shot.  Throwing it back, it goes down a lot smoother than that tequila had, the burn being mild but still causing your face to twist.  The cup is discarded in the trash, cutting yourself off before you can get ahead so as not to get absolutely wasted within minutes.  If you had an appetite, you’d snatch one of those delicious looking cupcakes but unfortunately, you needed to pace yourself.  Nerves and alcohol didn't make for the most stable stomach and you were already feeling queasy just from the mere thought of having to socialize with strangers.  

Exploring further into the house, you exit through the other archway leading into a dining room that displays even more food than the kitchen, a whole buffet laid out for guests including potato salad, macaroni salad, various horderves, snack mix, a giant bowl of M&Ms, and more.  A dream for a child, dinner and dessert all in one.  

A few partygoers were scooping some food onto their plates, chatting about who knows what while you moved on to the next room which appeared to be the family room.  The TV played some kind of horror film while absolutely no one watched it, the room almost empty aside from a couple in the corner making out.  

A few pops and some celebratory yells are heard just out the back sliding door, drawing you in.  The closer you got,  you could see someone dressed as a scarecrow holding a bottle of champagne overflowing onto the deck.  You were curious as to what everyone was celebrating but got cold feet when you reached for the handle, your hand glued to it but not putting any effort into actually sliding it open.  Just as you decided you were going to chicken out and find a corner to hang out in instead, someone points at the door, outing you, causing your blood to run cold in embarrassment.  When the scarecrow turns around, you can see that it's Donnie, face paint pulling her whole look together.  

At the sight of you, her face lights up, hands thrown up in excitement as the champagne she’s holding sloshes over and further coats the deck.  She doesn’t seem to mind, as she hands off the bottle to someone else and makes her way over to the door, sliding it open.  Your cheeks begin to feel hot as people stare at the interaction, unwanted attention that you could’ve escaped had you been quicker.  

“You made it!”  She just about squeals, giving you a tight squeeze.  

She had clearly had a few drinks, unafraid of any affection as she previously stated that she hated friendly affection of any kind, more prone to use her words to show appreciation.  But you didn’t mind, Donnie was the one person you were comfortable with and your one friend so if she happened to show affection while under the influence, so be it.  And maybe by her doing so, you wouldn’t appear to be such a freak to what seemed to be her friends.  Maybe it would grant you acceptance into their circle.  

“I made it.”  You repeat with a polite smile.

“So we were just popping some champagne we found.”  Donnie explains.  “No rhyme or reason, we just found it inside and thought, hell lets just go at it.”

Nodding, you try to appear as enthusiastic as possible, covering up your anxiety to the best of your ability.  People were still staring at you and it was proving difficult to just ignore it, holes practically being burned into you.  A few of them you recognized as regulars at the bar but the rest were complete strangers.  Either way, you were intimidated.  

“You want some?”  Donnie offers to which you begin shaking your head frantically.

“No, no, I’m okay!  I already had something and I have to drive later anyway.”  You explain.

Donnie nods understandingly before starting a dreadful introduction to the group.  She points out Brian, Sam, and Wyatt, her sons who were fully grown, the oldest Brian, being around thirty.  You didn’t catch who was the youngest or middle since Donnie was talking so fast.  Then she reintroduces you to her husband, Nathan, who you had previously met at the supermarket though Donnie didn’t seem to remember in her current state.  Then there were the owners of the house, Crystal and Gabriel, a very nice couple in their forties who made Halloween their night and everyone knew it.  Apparently Thanksgiving was Donnie and Nathan’s holiday according to a little comment uttered by Crystal.  There were what seemed to be a dozen more introductions though you couldn’t recall every single person.  You only remember Donnie skimming by an introduction to Jett’s mom, Kristy who seemed like a lovely woman.

Thankfully, once everyone was acquainted with you, they seemed to move one rather quickly and continued on with their festivities.  A fire pit sat in the middle of the deck, crackling away while a few individuals rested on the chairs circling it, warming themselves up.  Some orange lights were wound around the railing accompanied by some fake cotton spiderwebs.  Everyone held a drink in their hand except you and you were starting to regret not at least carrying your empty cup with you to occupy your awkward hands.  Rookie mistake.

Your breathing becomes increasingly shallow with each passing second, panic settling in as you attempt to remember how to act like a person.  You almost contemplate rushing off to the bathroom to hide but quickly scrap the idea, knowing Donnie may take notice.  Instead, you stupidly shuffle your feet in place, trying to ground yourself with no luck.  

In your inner turmoil, you can vaguely hear everyone else engaging in conversation about their lives or some silly story.  Something you didn’t care to tune into as your inner monologue chants at you to run.  Even with the one shot that you thought would relax you, you still feel your shoulders tensing and your jaw tightening anxiously.  If anyone were to initiate small talk with you right now, you’d come off like a dunce, thoughts unable to form gracefully.  Tonight was definitely a bad idea and you should’ve just stayed home where you knew your place.

Uncomfortably, you remain standing as everyone passes around the champagne.  There was no way to dismiss yourself without seeming like you were rude and awkward.  This was hell.  

“Okay, elders!”  You hear a familiar voice from around the corner, steps clunking up the deck stairs.  “We got your drugs, now pay up.”  

Jett emerges, a second pair of steps heard behind him.  He’s dressed like a greaser, hair slicked back as he wears a white shirt tucked into his tight jeans.

“We got the goodies!”  Eddie singsongs from behind him, dangling a plastic bag full of weed.  

Eddie seems to be dressed as…himself?  With a bit of smudged eyeliner.  His torso is covered with his standard black leather jacket and he’s pretty much wearing what he wears in his day to day.  Except when he dramatically flings his leather jacket at Jett, he sports a very revealing cut off shirt, all ripped and torn.  And his fingernails are painted black.

“Jeez, Eddie!  You’re gonna catch a cold, put that back on or go inside!”  Donnie scolds.

“‘M fine.”  He mutters, tossing the weed at Jett who just barely catches it as he drops Eddie’s jacket to the floor.

Donnie sighs, giving up on the argument seeing that Eddie was too stubborn to listen.  Suddenly you feel yourself warm up, the chill October air no longer pinching at your cheeks as they grow hot again.  Not out of embarrassment this time. 

“Gon’ get ‘nother beer.”  Eddie mumbles, stumbling toward you though he doesn’t realize it yet.

“That kid gives me a headache and he’s not even mine.”  Donnie says.

“Hey!”  Eddie whines, turning back toward the group mid stride.  “You claimed me ‘s one ‘f your own, ‘member?”  He points at her.

Several people chuckle at the scene while Donnie rolls her eyes and waves him off.  He was clearly a lot more intoxicated than everyone else.  His waddle toward the sliding door is evidence enough.  

“Drink some water, boy.”  Nathan advises.

“‘Rink some water.”  Eddie mocks in a high pitch to himself while hiccuping before colliding into your shoulder.  “Oh shit.”

Stumbling backwards, you stabilize yourself while his hands reach out and rest a bit too comfortably on top of your shoulders, heavy handed.  Almost as if he were using you to keep himself up.  When you dare to glance up, you’re met with heavy, glazed over eyes, bloodshot and decorated in smeared black liner.  His lips paint a perfectly content smile as he sways back and forth, unbalanced.

“Bambi.”  He cooes.

“Hi.”  You whisper, startled like a mouse.

“Heyyy.”  He draws out eyes becoming even heavier if possible.

“Um—“

“Munson, get off ‘er.”  Jett laughs, shoving Eddie to the side.  He manages to save himself from face planting into the deck, leaning himself against the side of the house.

“Should kick ‘yr ass.”  Eddie mutters, glaring at Jett.

“No one wants you leanin’ on ‘em like that!”  Jett defends.  “Hey, Bambi.”  He greets you.

At this, Eddie appears enraged, his face visibly going red as he shoots Jett a glare that no one would want to be on the receiving end of.  Everyone else seemed to have moved on, paying no mind to Eddie’s sudden shift in mood.

“Hi, Jett.”  You reply, a friendly grin gracing your lips.

With a grunt, Eddie pushes off the wall and storms inside, evidently pissed about something.  Jett shares the same confused expression as you, shrugging while he starts asking how you are, if you’re enjoying the party, and if you’d seen the huge array of food they had out yet.  You answer all of his questions to his satisfaction but mentally, you’re trying to track Eddie down.  Trying to understand what set him off and made him leave with such irritation.  Had this been the first week you met him, you would’ve dismissed it as his normal temper but now that you’d known him for almost two months and gotten to know how his emotions function, you knew better. 

He had also clearly been under the influence which could mean nothing happened and his emotions were just sensitive.  But you had a strong suspicion that there was a definite reason he abruptly got angry and rushed inside.  No one else seemed to notice, aside from you and Jett.  And he obviously paid no mind and didn’t intend on going after Eddie so maybe you were missing something.  Or maybe everyone was also blinded by their intoxication and you were the only sound minded individual in the group right now.

“Oh and then—“

“I think I’m gonna head inside, it’s kinda cold out here.”  You interrupt Jett’s tangent on his and Eddie’s journey down the road to collect the weed they had been sent to pick up.

“Oh well just take this.”  He says, snatching up Eddie’s jacket off the ground and handing it to you.

You should’ve come up with a different excuse though to be fair, you didn’t think he’d hand you Eddie’s jacket.  He was supposed to follow your lead and let you go inside.  Wasn’t he concerned about Eddie too? 

“T-thank you.”  You clutch the jacket in your hand, draping it over your forearm.

“Yeah!  So we were just walking—“

“Jett, I’m sorry I’m gonna run to the bathroom, okay?”  You cut him off again.

You felt bad for seeming so uninterested in what he had to say but you couldn’t go much longer without knowing if Eddie had gotten himself into trouble.  He was super out of it from what you could tell and it was eating away at you.  It only made it worse that he was so angry and if you were the most sober one at the party, it would be in your hands if something happened to him and you knew he had run off.

“Okay—“

Before Jett can get another word in, you spin on your heel and rush inside, the music still blaring and everyone still screaming from the living room.  The whole house felt like it was vibrating, your body buzzing as the bass dropped.  That same couple still remained in the corner making out, their stamina impressing you.

Entering the kitchen, there’s no sight of Eddie, only a few guests topping off their drinks and toasting to themselves loudly.  Realistically, you should take another shot to calm your nerves but this nightmare of an evening needed to be cut short and you would need to drive home as soon as you found him and returned him to the group.  

Dreadfully walking yourself back into the living room where the heart of the party beats, you focus on each individual, attempting to spot the one dressed in all black with almost no shirt, tattoos, and a head full of brown curls.  It proves to be more difficult since the lighting was so dim and the strobe lights left you seeing spots.  

Everyone seems to be having the time of their life and here you are, worried sick about someone who never thinks twice about you.  Even before he arrived you were having the worst time and wanted to go home immediately.  Halloween would’ve been perfect if you stayed home where you couldn’t make a fool of yourself in front of people.  

“Tequila!”  A woman dressed as a slutty maid shouts, carrying a tray full of shots past you, only eliciting a gag from the back of your throat at the smell.  “No tequila for you then.”  She jokes, you shaking your head as you cover your nose.

It was obvious that Eddie wasn’t going to hit the dance floor after getting so infuriated. Unless that’s the first thing he would do in his state?  You weren’t completely sure but you were almost certain that he wouldn’t.  As a large group gathers around for shots, you manage to escape down a hallway where you imagine the bathroom might be.  It’s completely dark, the only light coming from underneath a door on the left, probably the bathroom.  At the end of the hall is what looks like a bedroom, the moonlight shining in from the blinds to just barely reveal a bed.  

No one seemed to be in said bed, an empty room for people to crash in at the end of the night.  Eddie could be in the bathroom but you’d have to be sure before leaving.  With a shy knock on the door, struggle to hear any voice that might respond.  Pressing your ear to the door, you try again, only to be met with the annoyed voice of a woman saying she’ll be out in a second and that she was fixing her lipstick.

Clearly not Eddie.

At this point you’ve covered the downstairs, no sign of the man so far.  He would be good at hide and seek, you assume.  Or maybe you’re just the blind.  Retracing your steps back out into the living room, you collide with a few bodies, none of them paying any mind to the impact as they continue to dance, flailing around like rag dolls.  You didn’t think it was possible for the room to get any more humid but you were proven wrong, sweat grazing your arms as you pass by and attempt to avoid touching anyone, failing miserably.  

Your perfect ruby heels are starting to kill you, digging into your skin in all the wrong places, making it more difficult to walk with every step you take.  You know for sure that come the morning, you’ll have blisters that will be bothering you for days.  Reluctantly, you slide them off and scoop them up, dangling them by your fingers, Eddie’s jacket still hanging off your arm.  You were becoming a walking closet.

Going upstairs didn’t seem like a great decision seeing as this wasn’t your house and you didn’t want to give Crystal and Gabriel the impression that you liked to snoop around.  Although, if someone did see you, you could just vouch for yourself by saying you were looking for a bathroom and the downstairs one was taken already.  So up you went, nervously glancing behind you.  The coast seemed clear, not one person paying you any mind, the party still capturing their undivided attention.

Like magic, Eddie appears as you reach the top of the stairs, leaning against one of the doors as he weakly knocks, his forehead pressed to the wood.  He was gorgeous, the perfect image of an 80’s rockstar gone 90’s.  His back was nearly on display, shoulders all broad and waist lean.  You could make out bat wings tattooed symmetrically on his shoulder blades and something along his ribs.  The sight flustered you but you were here for one purpose and that was to retrieve him and get him back to Donnie so she or someone else could keep an eye on him.

“Dude, ‘urry up!”  He whines into the door,  pounding on it with more force.  “Hafta piss ‘n maybe throw u—up.”  He hiccups.

You want to giggle but quickly remember how miserable that feeling is, your stomach rejecting you and releasing its contents in protest of the alcohol you continue to bombard it with.  You realize that no light pours out from underneath the door which meant the bathroom had to be available.

“Eddie, I don’t think anyone’s in there.”  You offer, slowly walking up behind him.  

“Pfft, it’s locked.”  He scoffs, hitting his forehead against the wood with a thump.

When you reach your hand toward the handle and twist the door open, he gasps, nearly falling head first into the bathroom.  It wasn’t thought through, opening a door with a grown man leaning his full weight onto it.  Luckily, he catches himself, hands gripping the countertop as he sways.

“Shit, I’m sorry.”  You hiss, voice tinged with regret.

“‘S okay.”  He mumbles, pulling his zipper down.

“Oh!”  Covering your eyes, you shut the door.

“Wait, wait, wait!”

“Eddie, I am not standing in there with you while you pee!”  You yell through the door.

“God.”  He groans, a stream following.  “Just—I know!”

“I’ll stand right here and make sure you don’t fall and hit your head, okay?”  You bargain.

“Okay.”

After several seconds, you don’t hear any movement, worry kicking in once again.  He couldn’t have hit his head, you would’ve heard it.  What if he passed out but didn’t hit anything?  It was pathetic, the way worry would grow inside you solely for him.  Just when you begin a countdown to burst through the door to check on him, you can hear the unmistakable sound of him puking his guts out.  Now you wonder if you should go in anyway and hold his hair back.  

Dry heaving is heard through the door, the awful sound the only thing you can focus on.  You can’t take it anymore.  You can only hope he remembered to zip his pants back up in his drunken state.  Opening the door, you reveal Eddie hunched over the toilet, his hair draped over his shoulders, clearly in his way.  You rush to his side, dropping your heels and his jacket in the process and collecting his curls in your hands, pulling them back as he breathes heavily, drool hanging from his mouth.  His eyes are wet and his hands are shaky as they grip the toilet seat.  You feel as if he should be vomiting in your lap for payback for puking on him that one night.  

“Ah shit.”  He complains, shaking his head.  “Round two, get o—out”.  He gags.

Throw up was the embodiment of the most disgusting thing you could ever think of, smell and everything but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care at this moment.  Even with his clammy skin and pukey lips.

“It’s okay, just let it out.”  You encourage him, hesitantly running a hand over his back, regretting doing so as you feel the muscles under his skin tense.

“Seriously, out.”  He almost vomits, swallowing it down.  

The action alone should be enough to have you jumping up and leaving but you stay.  

“Eddie, just puke it all up.  It’s fine.  I’m gonna hold your hair.”  You tell him.

He shudders, glancing over at you with his bloodshot eyes.  It’s like he’s shooting daggers at you before his eyes soften involuntarily, irises becoming that caramel toned warmness you were becoming more and more familiar with.  His pupils are dilated, huge planets in the middle of his eyes, clearly high and drunk though you still recognize the puppy dog-look he was giving you.  

“Eddie, if you don’t puke right now—“

As if on command, he lunges forward and spews out the rest of his stomach.  The sound makes you wince but you try to hide it as best as you can for his sake.  It’s not his fault his body is reacting to the substances he put into his body.  Maybe it is his fault since he put those substances into his body but regardless, you felt for him.  Once it has to come out, it has to come out and there’s no going back.  

“There you go.”  You soothe, fingertips gently raking up and down his spine.

“Fuck.”  He whispers into the bowl, spitting out a huge glob of saliva. It would repulse you if it were anyone else.

“It’s okay.”  You whisper just as quietly.

Grabbing the toilet paper and folding it a few times, you rip it and hand it to him to clean himself up.  You linger for a few seconds, waiting for him to grab it but he only continues to stare into the toilet bowl, hands braced on either side.  Just when you’re about to speak up again, he goes in for a third round.  You can’t help but feel bad for him even if the smell is nauseating you.  

“You want some water?”  You offer, standing up in preparation to go find him some.

“No, stay.”  He blindly grabs the hem of your dress, wiping his mouth with his forearm.

He didn’t seem to have a follow up reason as to why he wanted you to stay but you do anyway.  It was still a concern of yours that he stayed hydrated but you would tuck the thought aside momentarily to appease him.  

“Okay, what do you need?”  

Finally, he relaxes, his stomach seemingly empty now as he sits back against the wall.  A sigh leaves his lips, relief slipping off of them as he gazes up at the ceiling.  Shutting his eyes, he shows no indication of responding anytime soon, his pale face exhausted.  Sitting down beside him was your best bet, that way if he did decide that he needed to spill his guts again, you were there to assist.  And it was especially comforting to sit there just in case he passed out since he was at risk of hitting his head against something.  He was obviously still out of it, sobriety seeping in very slowly, the room more than likely spinning from his perspective.

“Dizzy?”  You ask.

“Mhm.”  He hums, squeezing his eyes shut as if it would aid in steadying the room.

“You need water.”

“Mm.”  He disagrees, shaking his head.

“Yes, it’ll help with the dizziness…probably.”  You tell him, standing up once again.

This time he doesn’t protest, the message sinking in.  You do, however, worry what could happen in the seconds that you’re gone.  But, you have no other options right now.

“Stay here—Eddie, stay here.  Do you hear me?  Don’t move.”  You try to drill into his brain.

All he offers is a weak nod, unable to even open his eyes.  Satisfied enough with the response, you speed out of the bathroom and down the stairs into the kitchen.  It was easy enough to grab a cup and fill it with water, dodging the wasted party guests that had gathered around the counter to play some kind of drinking game.

“Hey, where did you run off to!”  Jett calls over to you.

Carefully, carrying the cup of water as not to spill, you turn around to meet his cheerful face.  He had clearly gotten into that weed stash as his eyes were even more bloodshot than Eddie’s and his face was the most relaxed you’d ever seen it.  And he was a pretty laid back guy so that was saying something.

“Oh, uh, Eddie’s not feeling good so I was just helping him out.”  You explain.

Jett offers a suspicious squint, eyes glimmering in mischief as he reaches for a cupcake.  

“What?”  You ask genuinely.

He shakes his head, sticking his hands up in surrender which only makes you question the strange boy further.  What was going on in that hyperactive mind of his?

“Nothin’”  He smirks, orange icing coating his upper lip.

You didn’t have time for him to elaborate, if you could even get him to.  You just needed to get back upstairs, you had already been gone for a few seconds too long, worry burying in your gut like a parasite.

“Okay, I have to get back to Eddie and make sure he hasn’t done something stupid.”

“Mmmhmm.”  Jett giggles.

If only you had the time to interrogate him and inquire as to why he found that so funny.  But you didn’t.  Leaving him behind to laugh to himself, you can just barely make out one last word as you turn on your heel.

“Lovebirds.”

Your eyes grow ten times bigger as you scurry away.  Did he think that’s what this was?  That you were on your way to hook up with your boss?  Did it look that way to everyone else?  Jett was going to rat you out for something you weren’t even doing, you were convinced.  No matter how nice of a guy Jett proved he was, he was higher than a kite and could start up a rumor like wildfire if he relayed his suspicion to anyone.  It’s possible you were being paranoid but come the morning, if there were rumors floating around, you knew exactly who to blame.

Trying to shake the butterflies you felt taking your stomach hostage, you concentrate on getting the water upstairs without spilling a drop.  It was evident that you had filled the cup a tad too high, giving you even more of a challenge.  As you conquer the stairs, you anxiously peer around the corner into the bathroom, hoping and praying that Eddie had listened and didn’t move an inch.  Otherwise, you were on another goosechase for a six foot tall metalhead for the second time that night and respectfully, your organs wouldn’t be able to handle another spurt of anxiety like that.

Much to your relief, Eddie sits against the wall just as you had left him, eyes still shut tight and head bowed.  He doesn’t seem to hear your sock covered feet padding into the bathroom, not one muscle twitching.  

“Eddie.”  You call, holding the water in front of him.

No answer.

“Eddie?”  You say, more panicked.

Nothing.

“Okay, this isn’t funny, Eddie.  C’mon, drink the water.”  You tell him, gripping his chin as you examine him.  

His eyes seem to flutter beneath his eyelids, brows furrowing as his head resists your hand and leans toward gravity.  You continue to hold him up, giving his cheek a small pat.  A deep groan escapes him although he’s still practically sleeping.  

“Eddie.”  Shaking his shoulders, he only moves like a rag doll in your hold.  “Eddie, wake up.”

“Mmm.”  He grumbles, swatting your hands away.

“Okay, I gotta take you home.”  You decide, placing your hands on your hips, attempting to determine just how you were going to even get him into your car.

You couldn’t leave him here, he was still wasted.  You could leave him with Donnie and everyone to look after him but what was the point if you were going to go home anyway and he lived right next to you?  There was no use in making them babysitters if there was a more logical solution.  

“‘M fine.”  He says, curling up into a ball.

“No, Eddie, get up.  Get up.”  You try to be firm with him but he remains on the floor, comfy as ever with his hands tucked beneath his head.  “Shit.”  You sigh.

It was time to call in some reinforcements.

–

“Jesus Christ, he’s really fucked up isn’t he?”  Jett stares down at the figure of a sleeping Eddie on the bathroom floor, perfectly content.  

“Yeah, can you guys just carry him to my car and I can figure out the rest once I get home?”  You plead.

Jett and Nathan share a look of concern to which you raise your eyebrows in confusion, expecting an explanation.  They glance once more at Eddie’s sleeping body and then back up to you, appearing as if that had said everything though you were still lost.

“How are you…going to carry him out of the car?”  Nathan asks, his bushy gray eyebrows knit in thought.

In all fairness, you didn’t think far enough into the future.  If it were only you, you assume you would be required to drag his body across the yard and onto the porch before fishing out his keys and lugging him up onto his couch before leaving some water next to him and dismissing yourself.  The affair may take you over an hour considering Eddie was proving to be a stubborn drunk.  But you’d surely manage if it had to be done.

“I dunno, I’ll work something out.”  You tell him.

Nathan glances over to Jett once more, concerned expression only deepening as he peers back down at Eddie.  Jett shrugs, surrendering the decision to both of you.

“How ‘bout this.”  Nathan starts.  “We’ll follow you home and help you get him situated–”

“God, ‘m up!  ‘M up, okay!”  Eddie takes the three of you by surprise as he rapidly pushes off the floor and begins standing on wobbly legs.  

“You sure about that?”  Jett teases while Eddie stabilizes himself against the sink.

“Fuck off.”

Eddie’s aggravated demeanor persists once again, a pathetic puppy dog pout at his lips while his eyes become overshadowed by eyebrows, a stern scowl forming.  If it was meant to intimidate anyone, he was sadly mistaken.  Instead, Jett snickers behind his hand, attempting to hide his grin.

“I’m kidding, I’m just kidding.”  Jett continues to chuckle, avoiding Eddie’s harsh gaze.

“What is goin’ on here?”  Donnie emerges from the stairs.  

“Christ, ‘s go.”  Eddie murmurs, rolling his eyes.

Donnie’s face contorts in confusion at his attitude, something that if it were directed towards you, you wouldn’t think twice about.  It was no secret that his moodiness carried over even when he was intoxicated.  But you suppose she has a motherly hold on him and should he act up, she wasn’t afraid to confront him.  It didn’t matter how much taller or how grown of a man he was, she wouldn’t hesitate to pinch him by the ear and drag him off to give him a lesson in manners.

Obediently, Eddie backs down, his expression instantly relaxing.  His scowl is replaced with a blank face, any negative thoughts seeming to fall right out of his head.

“You’re leavin’?”  Donnie questions.

Rather than answering, Eddie shifts his gaze to you expectantly.  Like you were suddenly his keeper.  It was odd, going from being absolutely repulsive in his eyes when you’d first met him, to him essentially submitting to you so willingly.  He was wasted but it was still something you fondly tucked into the back of your mind to remember later, like a little postcard for yourself.

“I, uh, yeah.  I was just heading out and I thought…since we’re neighbors…”  You try to elaborate, only feeling as if you were digging yourself into a deeper hole as you remember Jett’s comment from earlier.

Low and behold, the brief glance you offer Jett only confirms it, a huge smirk displayed on his face just for you.  It was enough for the blood to rush into your cheeks, practically sizzling to the touch.

“You just got here.”  Donnie complains.

Jett puffs out his cheeks, offering some kind of communication that has Donnie reeling back on her previous statement.

“It is late though and if he’s really not feeling good…”  She reasons.

You weren’t stupid and you knew Jett was assuming the position of a wingman and somehow, he was able to convey that to Donnie in just one simple look.  And she ran with it, much to your surprise.  Eddie seemed to check out of any conversation, bags hanging underneath his eyes while they drooped in boredom, his tall frame leaning against the wall as he toyed with the chain attached to his jeans.

Externally, you were irked, irritation written all over your face, even a hint of disgust could be found within your features.  But internally, you were having quite the opposite reaction.  Those damn butterflies had started up again, whirling around in your stomach so intensely, you were beginning to think they were bees.  Your heart pounded in your ears, the tips of them becoming embarrassingly red and hot.  You didn’t know why, maybe it was the prospect of everyone else thinking you had some secret relationship going on or even a little fling and the fact that they seemed to be rooting for you.  It ignited the tiniest bit of excitement in you, you weren’t going to lie to yourself.  Even if there was truly nothing going on.

Within minutes, you had an entourage escorting you to your car, Nathan insisting that it was no issue if you’d rather him drive Eddie just in case he were to pass out again.  Though you were grateful, you didn’t see the trouble in making him drive all the way out to your street only to turn around and go right back to the party.  If Eddie passed out again, you’d splash some water on him and surely figure out a way to wake him.  Besides, he had started to become more alert since stumbling down the stairs and making the walk down the steep driveway.  Of course, you also required that he down some water before leaving, otherwise he could stay and let his friends have their fun and tease him about sleeping in front of the toilet, which he didn’t seem to like as he scrunched his face and grabbed the water from you.

Donnie had advised you to drive safely several times while Jett continued to poke fun at Eddie, only earning himself a sock to the shoulder.  Jett may not feel it now but in the morning there would be a good chance he’d have a nice purple bruise.  

At some point after you had stepped outside, a jacket was draped over your shivering shoulders.  Eddie’s jacket.  And seconds later, he walked ahead of you with his hands shoved in his pockets, no doubt trying to escape Jett’s teasing.  It was in that moment, surrounded by people who seemed to just…care, that you began to feel wanted.  While Donnie talked your ear off about keeping an eye out for deer, Nathan continuing to even offer to drive both of you home, assuring you that he didn’t mind in the slightest.  Eddie resting his jacket over your shoulders, even in his current state, and Jett…well Jett was being Jett but he still contributed to the warm and fuzzy feelings you were experiencing.  

It felt a lot like…family.

–

The cold glass soothes Eddie’s sweaty cheek, the surface fogging up with every breath as his finger taps away to a beat in his head on the center console.  The slumped position he had been in for the past five minutes was sure to awaken a few aches and pains in his spine but he didn’t budge.  The radio softly sounded through the car, some random pop song he could hardly make out.  His eyes followed tree after tree, nearly causing him to go cross-eyed as he kept up with the little game he made up in his head, counting each tree.  Sometimes he would get distracted by the pavement zooming by before continuing.

Not a word had been shared between you since the bathroom though it was an oddly comfortable silence.  It didn’t feel like you had to speak or fill in the gaps like you usually would, desperately clinging to words that you didn’t have in order to appease the other person.  The fact that Eddie was coming out of his drunken haze could have something to do with it but had it not been Eddie you were driving, you’re certain you would struggle to strike up a conversation as if it were required.

Glancing over at him, you can’t help but feel a small smile tug at your lips, his fingers drawing a smiley face into the fog he created with his breath.  You’d never seen him so content but perhaps you shouldn’t look too much into it.  A few beers and some weed would have that effect on anyone.  It was just pleasant to see him so laid back, the stressors of his life set aside for another time.  You could only hope he could appear the same way sober someday soon.  

“Where’s your family?”  Eddie suddenly mumbles, eyes still glued to the scenery outside.  

The question is out of the blue and the last thing you would expect from him.  Although he had taken somewhat of a liking to you, he’d never taken an interest in something so personal.  And you offered him that same respect.  

“What?”  You ask, sneaking a glance at him, your hands squeezing the wheel.

His focus shifts from the window to you, his body turning inward as he leans his cheek against the headrest, waiting for your response.  The way his lips pucker from his cheek squishing against the seat only makes your heart clench.  His large awaiting eyes reflect the moon and you find it hard to change the subject when they appear so patient and attentive.

“Um, well, they’re back in…back home.”  You answer simply.

“Where’s that?”

He looked the most inquisitive you’d seen him, body turned toward you, his attention not once wavering.  Instead of the usual knit brows he often wore, his features remained softer and full of wonder.  Lips parted and eyes twinkling, who were you to deny his efforts?  Even if he was slightly under the influence.  Worst case scenario, he doesn’t remember this conversation.

“California.” 

“Oh.”  

You didn’t know what kind of response you were expecting but for some reason, the one word was a bit too vague, self consciousness kicking in.  

“What about yours?”  You shift the spotlight over to him.

From what you can tell as you keep your focus on the road, his gaze drops while he collects his thoughts, his breathing going shaky for just a second before he regains his composure.  A hum deep in his throat notifies you that he’s ready to begin speaking again.

“Uh, don’t really have one.  Never really have.  Or, uh, I just don’t remember them?  Other than my uncle, Wayne.  He’s back…”  Eddie hesitates.  “He’s in Indiana.”

“I’m sorry—I didn’t know…”  You start to backtrack and although he was the one who initiated the conversation, maybe it was too bold of you to reverse the question.

“No, ‘s okay.”  He assures you, shaking his head, his curls flattening against the seat.

“You miss him?”

The car is silent again, aside from the radio playing quietly.  You fear you’ve said the wrong thing, struck some kind of a nerve that forced him to go mute.  No longer wanting to engage in the topic.  But when you peer over at him again briefly, he’s biting his lip, getting lost in his mind again before he decides on an answer.

“Yeah.  Yeah, I do.  He visits when he can.”  A sadness lurks beneath the surface of his monotone response, eyes growing shinier in the moonlight.  And then he wipes the slate clean, face devoid of emotion once again as he seems to shake his previous thoughts from his head.  “So what’s your deal?  What made you come all the way out here?”  

This is the part where you would shrug and offer no further insight into the corners of your mind that usually were kept isolated.  But when his gaze softens from the passenger seat like that–like he wants to know, like he cares, you wanted to give him the key to your contaminated brain and let him poke around all he wanted.  As long as he wanted.

“Well, uh, I love my family...”  You start, voice timid.  “But I was feeling super lost.  And like I was living for everyone else.  And when my dad passed months ago he left me his estate…left me everything…”

“I’m sorry.”  He says, sympathy coating his words.

You nod, a silent thank you before continuing.

“So I split it up with my family…then moved away.  Guess I wanted to…I dunno find myself?”  You laugh, as if you’d just told a joke.

Rather than laugh along, Eddie studies you with intent.  Like he’s searching for more, digging into your soul.  

“Why’s that funny?”  He asks.

“I just–I don’t know what I’m doing.”  You laugh again.

“Well, neither do I.”  He begins to chuckle.  “I mean look at me.”

Progressively, you both start to laugh harder, glancing at each other and reveling in the failures that you both had endured up until this moment.  It’s like you were slap happy, a snort threatening to escape you through your uncontrollable laughter.  

“Ah, fuck.”  Eddie exhales, a grin plastered to his face.  “Bar is going to shit, my government hush money has run out–”

“Your what?”  You question, amusement taking over your features.

“Nothing.”  

Suddenly, he has no desire to converse, his lips shut in a tight line as he once again turns his attention to the window.  

“Government hush money?”  You repeat.

With a roll of his eyes and a deep breath, you can tell he contemplates carefully as he chooses his next words.  

“Jesus Christ, I’m really not supposed to talk about it.”  He breathes, pinching the bridge of his nose.  “But, fuck it I guess.”  He drops his hand from his face.

Pulling into your driveway, the gravel crunches under the tires before you kill the engine, headlights leaving you in the darkness.  Eddie has your full focus, your body turned toward him as you pull a knee up to your chest, resting your chin on top.  

“You don’t have to.”  You assure.  “I can just forget you ever said anything–”

“Honestly, it’ll probably do me some good to get it off my chest.”  He interrupts.  

At his insistence, you keep quiet, waiting for him to continue.  He fidgets with his rings nervously, pulling them off and putting them back on.  

“You, uh, you have to swear to never talk about it again.  To anyone.”  

“Promise.”  You whisper, sticking your pinky out.

A puzzled look crosses his face, looking from your pinky to you in uncertainty.  It was becoming apparent that he was sobering up, laziness no longer taking a hold of his eyelids and words coherent.  

“Pinky promise.”  You smile.

“Pinky promise?”  He still appears confused.

“Yeah, you never made a pinky promise before?”  

A small smile forces the corners of his mouth up, eyes shining with entertainment as he stares at your pinky.  Shaking his head, he rests his hands in his lap, almost bashfully.  A contrast to his usual prickly tendencies and forward personality.

“Well, I take pinky promises very seriously.  They can’t be broken.  So I pinky promise, I won’t mention this ever again.”  You stick your hand even further forward, awaiting his pinky.

“Yeah?”  He asks with a lopsided grin.  “How do I know you mean that?” 

“It’s a pinky promise, Eddie.”  You deadpan, as if he was supposed to know how eternally binding it was.

A few seconds pass, Eddie still looking from you to your pinky with round eyes, soft at the edges with something that resembles the innocence of a little boy.  His inner child was sparkling, pouring from him like a forbidden fountain that only you had the honor of witnessing.  When his pinky wraps around yours, his comically larger than yours, you can’t fight the way your heart flutters in response to the touch.  His warmth encompassing yours, melting together like the sweetest chocolate.

Then, once your pinkies part, he speaks of a horrifying earthquake, striking his home town and wreaking havoc on the innocent lives once lived.  He tells you of things that you would never in this lifetime believe, things that he was forced to believe within seconds, creatures that attacked him, putting him on his deathbed only to be revived and put in the hospital for weeks.  Of the horrifying manhunt for him, how he was a wanted man for things he was never responsible for, conveniently at the peak of satanic panic.  How he was blamed for being in the wrong place at the wrong time, how the whole town pinned a murder on him.  How there are things he could never even begin to explain like how Chrissy, the head cheerleader at his highschool had died right in front of him.  And how she was the first girl he was actually interested in, only for her to die a horrific death before his eyes.  He didn’t go into detail, though you didn’t need him to.  You didn’t want him to re-live such trauma just to provide you further explanation.

Once all was said and done, once he was out of the hospital, he was arrested and sat in jail for a week or so, he couldn’t recall exactly how long.  His uncle trying everything, doing everything he could to bail him out but he didn’t come from money so that proved to fail, especially since no one was on his side, even a majority of the police.  He told you of Dustin and Lucas…of Max, Erika, Steve, Nancy, and Robin.  The people that had always been on his side even when he was the only suspect for murder.  The people he missed so dearly every day but could only see every so often when they could find time to visit.  Which they did.  He only wished he could go back home.  If he did, it would only spark up another riot and it was against his agreement with the government to even step foot in the state of Indiana.  

So when he was bailed out of jail, his friends all awaiting him just outside the station, it was bittersweet.  He was relieved that he wouldn’t be stuck in that hell hole for the rest of his life like his dad but he was terrified of leaving everything he’d ever known.  It was his dream to someday get out of that place, a place that he wouldn’t name which was most likely due to his agreement.  But the second he was forced to leave, he didn’t know what was next for him, a terrifying concept for any smalltown boy at the fresh age of 20.

Wayne had intervened, making plans for Eddie to move in with his grandfather, Roy out in the middle of the mountains a few states away rather than being shipped somewhere where he had no connections, a setup for failure.  Eddie told you about how he didn’t know his grandpa his entire life, didn’t even know he still had one until he went to live with him.  But without any hesitation, Roy took him under his wing, stating that it's what his daughter, Eddie’s mother would’ve wanted him to do.  The least he could do for a boy who only knew broken family and lost his beloved mother so young.  

You learn that his grandfather had distanced himself due to Eddie’s dad and truthfully didn’t know of Eddie’s existence until Wayne made that phone call.  The moment he found out he had a grandson, he welcomed him with open arms and put him to work at the bar, giving him a kind of security that Eddie had never been familiar with in his life.  Grandpa Roy died last year of kidney failure, leaving Eddie everything and you could tell it was really taking a toll on him, the responsibility of the bar, the fear of losing it and disappointing his grandfather.

It seems that within the span of ten minutes, you learn Eddie’s life story.  From the incident back in Indiana to how his dad created destruction in his life long before that and how he would teach Eddie how to commit petty theft and hotwire cars.  He was on the route to becoming just like his dad before Wayne got involved, fighting like hell for legal custody of him.  His dad refused time and time again although Eddie spent most nights and days at Wayne’s trailer anyway.  Wayne didn’t want him to have any authority over Eddie, the man was a criminal and an addict that would leave poor young Eddie alone for days to fend for himself until he decided to come back.  He didn’t want that life for Eddie.

Eventually, he won, the courts taking far too long to review the case but he was granted full custody and not long after, Eddie’s dad was arrested for grand theft auto.  He still rots in jail to this day for several other crimes he committed once he got out the first time.

It was all laid out for you, Eddie’s entire upbringing.  His whole life on display for you to judge if you felt so inclined to.  You didn’t.  You sat and you processed.  Deciphering that Eddie is the way he is because of the way he had been treated his entire life.  An outcast among the working class, growing up in poverty and being made fun of for things out of his control.  Kids steering clear from him for the simple fact that he was his father’s son and that his name had already been tarnished before he was even born.  It was becoming clear as to why Eddie was so emotionally withdrawn.  How could he not be?

“Eddie I–” “If you say you’re sorry I’ll puke again.”  He jokes.

It was something you found so endearing within him, his ability to remain playful even when addressing his trauma.  Perhaps it was a coping mechanism.  You could relate if it was.  

“Let’s just, uh, call it a night.  I think that’s enough about me.  I don’t wanna talk about me anymore.”  He shakes his head, exhausted but still displaying a playful smile.

“Okay.  Yeah.”  You agree, opening the door before he stops you with a raise of his hand.

“Would this…would this be a bad time to tell you that I’m ninety nine percent sure that I left my keys at the party?”  He squeezes his eyes shut.

“Wow.”  You sigh, resting your head on the steering wheel.  “Look at how the tables have turned.”  You grin, shoving his shoulder, eliciting a grunt from him.  

“Gonna make me sleep on the porch with the bears?”  He half jokes.  He wouldn’t blame you.

“Only if you don’t puke on me like I did to you.”

Eddie can’t fight his grin, dimples deepening.  He’s thankful that it’s too dark to make out the pink tinting his cheeks.

~end~

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[actualbird]

what is the most obscure luke pearce fact you know?

filed under: asks that make me feel like im taking a final examination. tEACHER, TEACHER, I CAN DO THIS, I CAN GIVE YOU ALL OF MY FAVORITE OBSCURE CANON LUKE PEARCE FACTS

with SOURCES

luke once worked as a bartender, and made a bit of a name for himself when he would solve people's mysteries/problems in the span of time it would take him to mix their drink (SR Star In The Palm)

luke made mc not one, not two, but THREE rings over the course of his personal story route. the first one being a clover ring he gave her when they were kids (Luke's Blossom Chapter Personal Story 4), the second being ruby ring he made but this time during his NSB days and it was this ring that he held onto during the operation which saved his life after that disastrous mission that killed everybody but him (Luke's Blossom Chapter Personal Story 2), and then the engagement ring he gives mc when he proposes (SSR Orange Scent)

luke regularly wakes up at 5:30am on a normal work day (A Day With Luke Pearce official art)

while we see many instances of luke's physical strength, mostly in combat, we also see his strength in the instance he is strong enough to pry open a metal fence with his bare hands (Symphony Of The Night Event Story) (extra note: this is probably my favorite because 1) it's underrated and not as known since it was shown in a rather early event story that later players didnt get to experience and 2) it's so fucking unhinged and uncalled for even with context. why did he do that. he didnt have to. hes insane. i love him)

luke learned how to skateboard while in the NSB, and he learned from one of his NSB instructors (SSR Through The Heavens) (extra note: this is probably a 2nd favorite because it'S SO SURREAL TO ME???? so when he has a break from the DARK SECRET AGENT STUFF and being like fuckin JAMES BOND, he goes out to do some SICK WHEELIES with his instructor like. what. help)

in the Visit Function when you play Old Maid, luke is the ONLY ONE among the nxx boys who acquires LESS affection when he LOSES against the player, whereas the other boys receive either equal amounts of affection or more affection when the player wins (ToT Wiki's Page On Visit, Old Maid) (extra note: this is probably my 3rd favorite because it's so funny. all the other boys like "yayyy congrats mc for winning the game ^u^" meanwhile luke is a SORE LOSER who HATES LOSING and MUST WIN)

i hope these facts are amenable....

[walkergirlsposts]

Listened to the panel. (Ouch)

Why, after 15+ years is she creating a whole new narrative that she auditioned for many female roles during the time they were dating (so seasons 2-5)?

I say this is a completely new narrative because she has been point blanked asked why she wasn’t on the show back in 2009-2015, and her answer was always that’s his thing or that’s his show.

So why is it now she’s saying she auditioned—and clearly didn’t get the roles?

Now we know from past interviews that she asked Singer and his wife to create a role for her at the s12 post season party. Which they did. Creating a d-plot character that was a conniving, materialistic bitch. Which they told her and the public it was created after Danneel’s real persona. (Ouch.)

But this new “I auditioned for every female role early on” is a really really weird flex to now bring it up.

Is she lying? What would be the motive? Seems really stupid to lie about it.

If she’s now telling the truth, then she and Jensen were both embarrassed about it all these years. And they should be.

Probably Jensen doesn’t want to bring it up bc he knows that she knows (and so does most cast and crew) that the only reason she didn’t get those parts (while dating Jensen) is because Jensen himself didn’t want her on the show.

I mean — Sandy (Jared’s gf at the time) was on, Jensen’s dad and sister, her brother Gino, Jason Mann’s music and other buddies of his. Even Gen came back in s6.

And if it wasn’t Jensen blocking her…then that means it’s purely a distaste for her by producers.

Let that sink in.

Makes that PA’s story that she was banned from the set when they were dating seem a lot more than just a rumor.

Last note — thank goodness she lost out on the roles like Meg, Ruby, Jo, Rowena, Jody, or Abaddon.

Says a lot that she also didn’t even nail auditions to snag a one episode role like the Halloween witch, pastor’s daughter, the whore, the bartender demon, or one of the mythical gods.

Jensen either couldn’t influence to get her on the show bc she was that bad. Or he didn’t want to. Until he had an incentive to…when it was tied to his “family” brewing business.

Yes to all. I really wish I knew her motive for lying now. Is she just trying to change the narrative as AAs are known to do? Is she putting it out there she's trying to look for work?? Hahaha right, stupid me. Is someone telling her to lie?? Like her mother?

And - like you said if she's telling the truth now, what does it mean? I'm curious too, if it really was Jensen blocking her because he didn't want her on the set regularly because it was just the J's thing - like she always said. Or did one of the producers not want her there? No. I'm guessing him.

I'm just trying to organize what you've said and what I'm thinking.

If she was lying before, I believe it was Jensen who never wanted her on set. She said during Covid they're better apart. Let that sink in, too. Lol

[moominofthevalley]

Sempervirens

If all else fails, write some letters.

emily rose

teen | wc: 1.1k | cw: mentions of grief

a/n: first drabble of 2024. sorry it took so long. hope you enjoy ♡ banner credits from airidescence

It’s been ten years and I still don’t know where to put all this grief.

Uncle Tommy suggested I see a shrink, so I told him to fuck off. I promised him I’d write these stupid letters instead. Journaling, mindfulness, yoga - all that does nothing for me. This shit better work. Anyways. Here’s a list of things you never got to see.

I stopped playing soccer after a broken ankle - it was gnarly. I remember crying in the hospital all night.

My grades got somewhat better. I graduated high school. Somehow became the youngest person in the city to make the Homicide Division. It’s shit work. The captain is a bit of an ass. Tommy met her at a few holiday parties and it did not go well.

By the way, Tommy misses you too. A few weeks ago, we looked through the attic and found a bunch of old photo albums and VHS tapes. We spent all day looking through them. There was a picture of us sitting on your old couch - the black leather one with all the cigarette butts in the cup holders.

My head hurts writing this. We still have nothing for you. No evidence, no lead. Not any fingerprints. The files don’t have anything. I’m pissed. There has to be something. It’s been ten years without you and all that I have left are some old photos and beat-up jackets.

You need justice. I need answers.

We miss you so much. I’m going to stop writing before I throw up.

Always surviving, Emily Rose 09/10/19

* * * *

I had a fluffernutter sandwich this morning and thought of you.

Don’t know why I love it so much. I probably have a dozen cavities. I’m sorry it’s been so long since my last letter - so much has happened.

I quit the NYPD, how shocking. I found so much - probably enough to fire every cop in my precinct - but HR turned on me. Dead rats in my lockers. Side eyes from everyone. So I left. I spent two weeks on my ass, bartending at the Drunk Tank until Tommy made me chat with an old friend of his. Mafalda. I think you knew her too. It’s better here, if not way more chaotic. We have a computer guy named Luke, he’s pretty awkward. A bit pretentious. Terrible cook, too. But he lost his mom around the same time I lost you. There’s a forensic analyst named Ruby who stops by. She’s sweet, always reminding me I can talk to her if I need to. We went out for drinks last night and I honestly can’t remember the last time I laughed so hard.

Also, I got rid of that stupid couch you loved. It was all ripped up and probably full of mold. Uncle Tommy and I spent a whole day looking for a new couch. I landed on this velvet green one with some fancy fringe at the bottom. Very bougie, I know.

You know, it’s annoying funny how people enter your life and insist on staying there. His name is Trystan Thorne and you’d love him. Uncle Tommy does, but I think it’s cause he buys him fancy donuts every morning. I wish you could meet him. I barged into his penthouse, beat his ass, and now we’re partners. Isn’t that weird? He’s infuriating, but it’s nice to have him around. Don’t tell him I said that. I told him some stories about you today and it felt so good to talk about everything.

Finally, some good news. We might have something for you. Some mafia leader named Big V. I told Tommy and Mafalda about her and they both think there’s a chance she did it. I hate that it’s taken so long to come up with just one possible lead. But I’d do anything to know what happened to you.

I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you more. I miss you so fucking much. Here’s to fifteen years without you.

Always surviving, Emily Rose 10/08/23

* * * *

It’s been only a few months since my last letter and so much has happened. Trystan was put on trial for a murder he didn’t commit. We had to fly half the team to Drakovia as a hail mary. Ended up playing a lawyer for a few minutes. it was weird.

I messed up so many times. Trystan and I fought over something we both knew the answer to. Sebastyan...Fuck. Vasili is dead. Every time I remember that look in his eye, I want to throw up.

Fuck.

It’s three am and Trystan is sleeping right next to me. He always listens to me talk about you. I keep imagining all the dinners and talks we could’ve had, just the three of us. You could’ve told him all your stupid jokes - like the one about eating a clock.

Tomorrow is my twenty-ninth birthday. Tommy told me he had something planned. I bet you ten bucks it’ll be a party at the Drunk Tank. I remember growing up, you guys would spend the entire night decorating the apartment with balloons. I hope Tommy isn’t doing that this year.

You’re here everywhere I go. I was doing laundry earlier and saw one of Tommy’s button-downs that used to be yours. It still smelled like you. I make coffee just the way you did - black. I have your small, round nose.

I hate that your life was taken from me. But I will find you at the end of mine. I love you, Dad. Come visit me sometime? Please.

Always living, Emily Rose 3/31/24

* * * * I’ve missed writing. I wrote this all in a day after I found the most devastating YouTube comment and just had to write something. Also, if you didn’t notice the start of the 2nd letter is a little reference to this fic. Anyway - there’s definitely more writing coming from me soon...Hope you enjoyed this angst xx

Click here for the masterlist of all my works so far! Tags: @choicesficwriterscreations @jerzwriter @logolepzy @stars-are-within-me@shadyinternetblizzard @urcowboyboyfriend @lexicook74-blog @leahtine @jahrobin @calisomnia @kyra75 @icarusfallsforever @inlocusmads @tessa-liam

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[wu-sisyphus-gang]

Motion Sickness Chapter 20 Snippet

“What do you mean you don’t have any range?”

“I have eight-ish feet of range with this thing.” I gestured to the weapon on my back as I rolled Qrow up to the bar. 

“I mean a gun, kid.”

“I don’t like guns." I was petulant but determined. I don’t like ‘em. I think they’re cheating. I think you should have to see the person or thing you’re killing. I think that’s fair. 

"What do you do when the other guy has a gun?"

"I have a bigass shield.”

“Look, I can show you some of what I know. It should help. What do you say?”

Ruby had convinced him to mentor me, then. That was fine. I needed the teaching and Qrow’s weapon was a bit like mine. His experience also eclipsed mine by shades. “I don’t have much choice.”

“That’s the spirit. Speaking of spirits, two whiskeys on the rocks,” he ordered to the bartender in the little hole in the wall we’d found. Or Qrow knew about it beforehand. The rose wood walls were brightly lit. It had a comfortable feel.  

“Should you be drinking that much?” he did lose a bit of weight recently. 

“I'm not. You’re drinking with me.”

"I'm the designated driver."

"You're my designated roller at best."

“I don’t have much choice in this either, do I?” The bartender, overhearing us, carded me. I handed him my ID while Qrow took the drinks. I suppose I was a match for the guy in the picture so the barkeep handed it back with just a single nod. “So, you mentioned some plan to get some legs?”

I figured he'd appreciate some brutal candor. It seemed like his style.

“I did. It's sort of something that Ruby doesn’t need to know the details on.”

“Oh I don’t like that,” I disagreed. I wasn’t keen on secrets between her and I. It wasn’t healthy. 

"Relax. A quick trip to some of the lower levels and a deal with an old friend. And after that I should be walking again."

"Oh I really don't like that." I sighed. "I'm not sure I can handle any more meetings with your friends, let alone secret dealings with what are probably criminals."

"Cute." He swirled his glass for a moment and I listened to the ice clink against the glass. "Well I don't like not having legs or a weapon. This should solve at least one of those. Besides, my understanding was that you’re a bit of a criminal yourself."

“It was self defense.” Sorta. He had a weapon and was running at me. That counted. 

“I meant how you snuck into Beacon. Ruby mentioned it. But what were you talking about?”

“I uh, I killed a guy. With my semblance. Sort of ripped him in half. Then I killed another guy. Bandits. The both of them."

“Stone cold killer. Who would have thought?"

“I don’t know if I’d say that.” I took a long drink on an empty stomach and my vision blurred fairly fast afterwards. 

Qrow paused. “Did you cry?”

“Uh, no?”

“I cried the first time I killed someone. That makes you stone cold.”

I swallowed whiskey. Qrow had no idea how much I really liked having power over who lived and who died and it was probably better to keep it that way. I was a bit of a mess and I was all over the place when it came to that sort of thing. 

If my sisters knew that their big brother had become a killer… or worse my mother… well, the consequences would be dire and long lasting to say the least. I’m not sure what to make of my family. They probably didn’t think I’d make it this far. And now that I had I was at a loss regarding how I would ever return to them. If I would ever return to them, that was. Maybe they’d find me somehow or someway. Home for me was with Ruby now. Ruby and the remnants of my team.

"Look,” I searched my addled brain. “What sort of favors are we talking about here?”

“Probably running drugs. I've done it before for her for some information."

“What kind of drugs?”

“Does it matter?”

“It will when Ruby finds out.”

“Ruby won’t find out unless you tell her.”

“That’s pretty much how that’s going to go down. She’ll ask me one question: ‘hey Jaune, where’d you and my uncle get those legs?’ And then because I’m a bitch I will tell her. I will out you for absolutely nothing. Bet on that old man.”

“Old man? If I wasn’t in this chair I’d knock some of your teeth out.”

“But you are in the chair. And unless you’re gonna transform and try to peck my eyes out I have a pretty good idea of how it would go down.”

“Cute. You think you’re such a big shot now, don’t you.”

“Unlocked my semblance. Pulled your ass out of the fire. I got a big ass sword and it’s pretty dope.” I got the girl. “I’m doing pretty well for myself. You, on the other hand, have been sidelined. That chair you're sitting in is worth more than you are. You bag of bones. Give me a break.”

“Bartender, another round.” Qrow called over. The bartender poured our drinks and slid them towards us. 

“We’re running the drugs. Or doing whatever else is needed to get me out of this chair. And Ruby doesn’t need the details. You feel me? I’m proud of her moral compass but it will only get in the way with this sort of thing. You and I are adults. We can handle ourselves. We don’t need her nannying us.”

“So is it just greens or something harder, like ether or hyper?”

“I don’t know yet, kid.”

“You don’t even know if you can bang out this deal, do you?”

“...” Qrow rolled the ice in his glass around silently. 

“Got it. We need a back up plan. One that sees you in a real hospital. Not some gangster’s chopshop.”

“I’m thinking, alright. I want out of this chair.”

“Well, Ruby ran off with the last of our Lien to repair Harbinger." I took another drink and grimaced. I ignored his low chuckle at me. "So that's one of our problems down." 

"Yeah. Just need to walk again and I'll be right as rain. So, we just need to get a favor from somebody on the lower levels. Now the reason I picked you is because I figured you were up to do something criminal, am I wrong? You're a murderer."

I groaned and slammed the last of my whisky. I hadn’t realized I’d gone through my second one so fast. 

“Ruby has decided that it wasn’t murder,” I defended myself halfheartedly. 

“And what have you decided?”

“It was totally murder. I cut them down like it was nothin’. I did it like it was a sport going out of fashion. I meant for them to die. Ruby can cut it however she likes but my soul isn’t like that. She comes up with these justifications for me and they don’t do me any real justice. It’s like she has no idea I’m a fuckin’ disaster. She just sees what she wants to see, I think. Which I really, really appreciate her for. Don’t get me wrong. I love that she gives me the benefit of the doubt.”

“But she shouldn’t. Because it was murder and you meant it,” Qrow interpreted. “I knew a girl like that once. Really believed in me. She really couldn’t see me for what I really am. A scumbag. Yeah I’ve fought for the good guys. But I didn’t fight like a good guy. You know what I mean? I didn’t fight with good intentions in my heart. And that’s what really matters. Don’t it?”

I leaned way over the bar and stretched. I sighed heavily. That was pretty much how I felt about it too. Outlaw justice. Yeah right. Give me a fuckin’ break. I killed because I found it immensely tasteful to unwind another person’s mortal coil. Killing Cinder… now that just might be better than sex. 

"Excuse me?" A younger looking dude in farm hand attire approached the bar. We looked at him, then at each other.

“Aren’t you a little young to be in here, pipsqueak.” Qrow wondered.

To be fair, the dude looked younger than me and was about five two. A solid maybe on that five two. He was well under one hundred eighty centimeters but he didn’t have a drink in his hand so it was probably fine. Probably. I wasn’t sure about the rules of a bar like this. Or any bar really. I wasn’t a bar guy.

“Shut up, I'm getting there.” He said to the air next to him.

Okay?

Where was the wire?

Qrow didn’t seem put off by this. Instead he wheeled himself around to fully face the guy.

Sure. Why not?

“I’m supposed to tell you, I’d like my cane back.”

“What the fresh fuck?” I blurted. 

Qrow reached behind him in the chair and pulled out a length cane with some gears and a switch at the gray handle. He tossed it to the kid and it extended into something like a weapon. And with a hunter’s strength… fuck it. Why not? It wasn’t like I really cut things up with the broadsword form of Crocea Mors. More of a crushing action. The Nuckleavee was big enough such that it was fine. Sure. It did some cutting. But on people it crumpled them more than sliced them. 

“Bartender!” I turned and called. 

“You’re Jaune Arc.” The kid said. 

“You know me?” I asked. “How?” 

“Um… I let you into my school.”

“He’s Ozpin,” Qrow leaned back and laughed. “I did it. I found him. Bartender!”

“How the hell is he Ozpin?” I asked. “Headmaster Ozpin? Are you nuts?”

“Bartender!”

“I didn’t believe it at first either…” the kid murmured. He stroked the length of the cane. 

We got our third round. I hammered mine immediately. I gasped off the alcohol. 

“Slow down, son,” the bartender suggested. 

“You…” I wavered. “Keep ‘em comin’. You… one of you two… explain.”

“When Ozpin died he was reincarnated into me.”

“Why?” I demanded. “Can’t he just die and be dead like a normal person .” I spat out the word ‘person’ like it offended me. 

“Um… it’s a long story.” 

“Yeah. I’m in a real rush.”

“It’s a personal story, then.”

“Okay. And you woke up one day and were cool with it.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say that at all. But… I have responsibilities now.”

“Because- can Ozpin hear me right now?” I asked.

“Yes. He hears what I hear and sees what I see.” 

"Because you’re schizophrenic.” I finished. “You’re delusional. You should go home. Do you even have your aura unlocked?”

“Well… no. But… neither did you? Wait, why didn’t you?” The kid asked. 

“And you knew I didn’t have my aura unlocked? And you flung me into the emerald forest anyway? Why?” 

“What’s your name, kid?” Qrow requested from the chair. 

“Oscar Pine.”

“Well, Oscar, welcome to the real world,” Qrow sat back and drank his whiskey. 

[just-existing-as-you-do-blog]

Just a little dnd recap for the vibes. I haven't DMed in a while and I'm excited.

So our charecters are

Half elf sorcerer

Dwaven rogue

Knome warlock

I started them out all in different universes with their own NPCs and plot hooks. And them I had them all be visited by a man in a tophat and tailcoats called the magician. Then they traveled to a place I call The Living Manor in my notes it's a way to big manor with other buildings inside and there is alot to explore there but they were very excited for their magical keys and did alot of universe hopping and testing the rules.

So our warlock is insane but has a magical feild where someone would have to beat a DC 18 wisdom check to notice. He does not know what deal he made, but he ran into his nephew in the manor who started telling him that his sister is very sick and probably won't make it. Which our warlock barely processes.

Our rogue steals two definitely cursed gems from the manor and our sorcerer takes lots of books (they are rebuilding a library she burnt down). They all follow our warlocks nephew through a door and end up back in his universe.

They meet an important family (the dragontamers, I adore them.) The rogue pawns off a cursed gem. Warlock runs into his husband, momentarily has his sanity back tries to tell his husband that something is very wrong with him. But his husband failed the roll. The warlock remembers his sister and goes to see her and she succeeds her roll the second time and they talk it out in a rushed panic for a while.

Meanwhile our sorcerer steals from a library and our rogue learns all the gossip in town while trying to contact her friend and putting together that they are in another dimension.

They barter for a comprehend languages spell and sleep in the home of the matriarch of the dragontamer family. Then they journey to the rogues dimension to discover that her friend has been tortured in a strange way, he tries to tell them all he can but his memory has been modified, something with the nobility and a cult and a ruby.

They heal him up, he reveals that he has been to the manor. They talk to the magician again who heals the sorcerer after she hurts herself trying to read his thoughts. He mentions that he doesn't controll the nobility nor does he own the manor.

They go back to the rogues dimension, she enters the home of the nobility she knows stole the ruby, finds his wife laying in bed, stabs her, gets blasted to hell. Steals a painting but not the ruby, and escapes. The others go to a library and steal more books. Then the rogue requests the magician heal her in exchange for a favor, he does so and requests she steal back a cursed book from the bartender of the Litches Brew. She seduces the bartender and steals the book, the bartender knows she is stealing it but let's her off just this once.

They return to the rogues world and talk to her friend to discover that the nobility have been buying up organs and corpses of powerful wizards. He says he has heard about some cult stuff. They investigate the churches of Pelor and the Matron of Ravens who both feel uneasy about the people not from their dimension and make it clear. They summon the magician to see if he can walk inside the Temples and he cannot.

Then they go to the library, talk to the librarian, learn about a broken into crypt. The crypt is supposed to be magically sealed. The door is ajar, they venture down to find all of the traps have been sprung and the corpse of the wizard is gone.

Session ends!

[hstyleshoney]

Loves Me Loves Me Not - six.

“So you’re here hiding?”  “No one is really looking.” 

AU fake-dating, bartenderry // Harry is a bartender and new in town. A joke with her friends turns into reality after too much tequila, but nothing goes according to plan.

And she might be way in over her head.  

word count: 7.8K // language, consumption of alcohol

🐶 Ficpage 💜 ask 🌼 masterlist

✄✄✄✄✄✄✄✄✄✄✄✄✄✄✄✄✄✄✄✄✄✄✄✄✄✄✄✄

“I can think of at least five reasons why you should come with us!”

Finn pushed Y/N to the side, swaying in his steps, and threw an arm around Harry. 

Harry, in return, reached out to put a hand on the taller boy’s waist to keep him steady. They had all left Margot’s place to venture down to White Deer to continue their night, hollering and giggling loudly, a large amount of alcohol flowing through their veins. 

After finishing their games of beer-pong, Finn had brought out the shots and somehow convinced everyone to take at least one each. Y/N, unfortunately, ended up having four, and as they stumbled along the cobblestone to get to the pub she could feel her head swirling. She ended up leaning into Harry, linking her arm with his to keep herself steady as they walked. 

Harry, who to her surprise, had been coaxed into having a shot of tequila as well, made no objections as he felt her grab a hold of him. 

As the night progressed Finn had taken a liking to the grumpy man. Y/N was not entirely sure when or how it had happened, since Harry hadn’t entertained his rambling conversation all that much. It didn’t stop Finn though and he had been glued to Harry for pretty much the last hour. 

“I’m sure you can,” Harry replied with a chuckle. “But I think it’s time for me to call it quits.” 

“I can’t let you do that I’m afraid,” Finn countered and shook his head. “For one, it’s my birthday. You don’t leave until the birthday boy leaves!” 

While Harry had walked with the group to White Deer, seeing as he lived in the same building, he had made it pretty clear he was not joining them inside the pub. Something Finn was not accepting. 

“I think maybe it’s time for the birthday boy to go home now,” Harry suggested as Finn stumbled and almost fell face-first to the ground. He probably would have too if it wasn’t for the fact that he was using Harry as a human crutch.

“I’ll pretend you never said that,”  Finn faked a gasp, pretending to be upset. “Secondly, you need to come with us so you can take care of this klutz,” he nodded toward Y/N. “She’ll end up in a ditch somewhere on her way home otherwise.” 

“Heey,” Y/N pouted. “If anyone is ending up in a ditch it's you!” 

“Yeah yeah,” Finn waved her off and turned his attention back to the man he was hanging over. “C’mon Harold, you need to let loose. Come with us to the pub!”

“You’ve only given me two reasons so far,” Harry told him, hoping to avoid having to spend more time with the group. 

More specifically the blonde man who kept shooting daggers at him whenever he could. Y/N had tried her best to keep the two of them apart, never leaving Harry’s side, dragging him over to talk to Arlo and Finn throughout the night in an attempt to keep him busy. 

Which, in hindsight, was ultimately a big failure to her original plan. She had hardly said a word to Reece outside of playing beer-pong, but at least he had asked her to be on his team.

That had to count for something. 

Behind them Arlo and Kiara walked together, whispering something between themselves, keeping their distance from the rest of the group. Margot, Ruby, Reece and Jack were all in the front, leading the drunks to the pub, chatting loudly and laughing amongst each other. 

“Well, reason three - reason three is you live right above the pub and won’t be able to go to sleep anyways,” Finn grinned. “It’ll be too rowdy. You won’t get any peace.” 

“No different to any other night,” Harry challenged, surprising Y/N by entertaining her drunk friend’s arguments as much as he was. The permanent frown that had been on his face for most of the night was nowhere to be seen. 

Y/N wasn’t sure if the tingle in her stomach came from seeing Harry kind of getting along with one of her friends, or just the four shots of tequila she had downed.

“It’ll be a blast,” the taller boy continued. “You stand there behind the bar every weekend. Let me - Let me show you what it’s like to be on the other side. We can annoy Max together and order a bunch of like special cocktails - or something. That’s four!” 

“Finn, if Harry wants to go home, let him,” Y/N stepped in, knowing she hadn’t done a very good job with helping him when Arlo and Margot ambushed him at BLOOM yesterday. Harry had been through more than enough already. “He’s probably had enough of you dumb idiots for one night.” 

“Oh hush, you’re only saying that so you can go with him and shag all night.” 

“Finn!” 

“Oh, stop it, I’ve seen you ogling each other all night,” he said and looked between them, wiggling his eyebrows. “You can fuck each other’s brains out later. Right now it’s still my birthday for another-” he paused to check the time. “Another 45 minutes. Aaand that brings me to reason five, you need to come with us so Y/N here won’t leave her good friend on his birthday.” 

“You’re an idiot,” Y/N rolled her eyes and looked at Harry again. “You don’t have to come.” 

“You do, don't listen to her!” 

She shook her head and by doing so, she missed the small dent in the concrete, accidentally stumbling over and dropping her bag to the ground. 

Despite Finn hanging over him, Harry still managed to reach out and keep her from smashing into the ground. His hand wrapped around her upper arm in a firm grip, pulling her back up on her feet. He looked at her with unimpressed eyes and Y/N gave him a weak smile before picking up her bag, her cheeks getting hotter. 

“Hm, well, I’ll stay for 45 minutes then,” Harry complied with a hum, his eyes still on Y/N and her intoxicated state of mind. She regretted every single shot she had taken. “Good enough for you?” 

“Yes!” Finn exclaimed with a jump, making both of them stumble slightly at the sudden motion. The group in front of them had already reached White Deer and with one final pat on Harry’s back, Finn headed off to catch up with them. “I’ll get the shots ready!”

“Just for the record,” Y/N mused as they watched Finn run off to join the four who had already entered the pub. “For once, this was not my fault.”

“Debatable,” Harry remarked, the corner of his lips hinting at a small smirk. 

“Thank you though,” she told him softly.

“For what?” 

Y/N paused for a moment, looking over his shoulder to see Arlo and Kiara catching up to them. There was no time for her to explain everything she wanted to thank him for. Her whole body was screaming at her to just tell him how much she actually appreciated everything he had done for her, even when there was nothing really in it for him. 

She was thankful for him going along with her plan, for letting her stay the night a couple of weeks ago, for bringing her a brownie, for coming with her to Margot’s, for seemingly getting along with Finn and now coming with them to White Deer on his night off. Even if the night had not gone exactly how she had imagined, and it was slowly dawning on her how absurd her whole plan actually was, she was glad Harry had gone along with it all.  

Regardless of the harsh and grumpy facade he was putting up in front of people, Y/N felt like she had gotten a glimpse of the real him. A glimpse that showed her he had a softer side beneath it all. A side that cared about people and wanted to help, even if he wouldn’t admit it out loud. 

Because he was helping her even though she was essentially a stranger to him. 

And she really just hoped he would want to be friends even after her plan was over. 

“I- well, everything I suppose,” Y/N hesitated and glanced down at her shoes to avoid the intense green eyes looking down at her. “I’m glad I met you.” 

“So you could use me for your ludicrous scheme to make an absolute douche fall for you?” Harry commented sarcastically, but Y/N could tell there was some truth behind his words as well. 

“What I- no,” she started and looked back up at him with a frown. “That’s not-”

“What are you two Lovebirds doing just standing around here for?” Arlo’s loud voice interrupted. He squeezed up between them and threw his arms around both of their necks, hanging over them. “C’mon, let’s go get smashed!” 

“Pretty sure most of us are past that point already,” Kiara pointed out with a giggle. She took a hold of Arlo’s arm and pulled him off them. “Let’s leave these cuties to themselves. They’ll catch up, and I desperately need the loo!” 

Y/N watched her pull Arlo with her in the direction of White Deer, leaving her alone with Harry again. She opened her mouth to tell him he was wrong but couldn’t quite find the words. Because in the back of her mind, a small voice was whispering that he was in fact right. She was using him for her own selfish desires. 

The guilt that had been drowned by a sea of alcohol was slowly forcing itself up to the surface again. 

“Harry, I’m-” 

“Don’t worry about it,” Harry interrupted her that time, giving her a tense smile. “Let’s just go before Finn starts counting the minutes and make me stay longer.” 

He offered his arm out to her again, to let her support herself as they walked the last bit to the pub. Y/N looked at him for a moment, desperately trying to ignore the uncomfortable tightness across her chest, before linking her arms with his again. 

And as they walked toward the entrance of the pub, her body pressing up against his, her knees somehow felt weaker than they had been all night.

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It wasn’t until Margot had dragged Y/N into the bathroom that all of the shots really started to catch up to her. While Margot sat down on the toilet to pee Y/N leaned her back against the wall and eventually let herself slide down until she was sitting on the floor. It was terribly unhygienic, but her head was swirling way too much to stand. 

She just needed to sit down and breathe for a moment. 

Margot was talking to her, telling her some story about Ruby. Y/N wasn’t actually sure, most of her friend’s words were drowned out by the ringing in her ears. Why did she take four shots? And why in the world did she let Finn convince her to take another when they finally arrived at the pub? She would’ve been perfectly fine without that last one. 

Stupid. 

Then Margot said something that caught her attention. 

Harry’s name. 

“Huh?” 

“He is so bloody handsome!” Margot gushed. “And I can tell he really cares about you!” 

“I don’t - I don’t think he does,” Y/N admitted and exhaled deeply to focus on the conversation she suddenly found herself in. 

“Oh stop it!” Margot told her and reached over to grab some toilet paper. “The way he got all up in Reece’s face! He definitely didn’t like the way he was coming onto his girl. Dare I say, he was a bit jealous?” 

“Reece?” 

“What?” Margot gave her a funny look. “No! Harry!” 

“He wasn’t jealous,” Y/N cackled and covered her mouth with her hand to stop herself from bursting into laughter. The idea of Harry being jealous was absurd. 

The alcohol she had consumed throughout the night rose in the back of her throat when she remembered her hand had been on the floor just moments ago. She quickly removed it and wiped her face with the sleeve of her blazer. 

“Oh, he totally was!” Margot urged and stood up, struggling to pull her tight trousers back up. She lost her footing for a second and caught herself against the wall, giggling. It was clear Y/N wasn’t the only one feeling the effects of the ridiculous amount of alcohol Finn had gotten them all to drink. “You know what, actually - maybe Reece was as well.” 

That got her head spinning even more. 

“You think?” she asked. 

“If I was a guy and Harry showed up out of the blue, all broody and mysterious- Oh, and with that jawline!” Margot closed her eyes, a dreamy smile on her lips. “Ugh, I would be jealous too.” 

For the past 24 hours, Y/N had been telling herself that her plan was working, that bringing Harry tonight would be the last push; what if she was right? What if her plan had actually worked? 

If so, what did that mean? 

“Harry is very pretty,” Y/N agreed without realizing she said it out loud. 

“He is,” Margot beamed and offered her hand to help her get up from the floor. “So let’s get back to them so you can finally lay a big fat smooch on him!” 

With the help of her friend, she got back up on her feet, pausing for a moment to take a deep breath again. Her heart was beating hard inside her chest and the ringing in her ears got louder, every single cell in her body was telling her to sit down again. 

Yet, she followed Margot back out into the pub, her legs wobbly and unsteady. 

There were a lot of things Y/N should’ve done differently that night. For starters, she never should’ve drank as much as she did. She should’ve learned by now that tequila and her did not go well together. It was simply not a good idea. 

And she really should’ve stayed sitting down. 

And she really should’ve been watching where she was going. 

As they exited the bathroom the pub seemed to have gotten even louder. Y/N found herself looking for Harry as soon as the door closed behind them. He was still sitting around the same table she had left him at with Finn, and she had to do a double take as she saw them fully engaged in a conversation. Harry showed no signs of his usual grumpy demeanor, and Y/N could very well be mistaken, but she was sure she even saw him laughing. 

If she hadn’t been so taken aback by the sight taking place in the pub, and if her head hadn’t been so clouded by all the alcohol, she probably would’ve seen the man coming towards her. 

Sadly, she was far too surprised and too unfocused. 

Her body slammed right into the large man carrying two pints of beer, and she lost her balance completely. The man dropped one of the drinks, spilling it all over her top, and as she tried to take a step back she felt her ankle twist. 

It all happened in a matter of a few seconds, but she found herself on the floor. 

Time froze as the whole room turned their eyes to her and Y/N wanted to sink through the floor. 

“Oh man, you okay?” The man she had just bumped into asked, a look of worry on his face. Which was a little bit of a relief, knowing he wasn’t angry with her. 

Although, she would’ve felt a lot better if the whole pub hadn’t just witnessed her falling over. 

“Yeah, I’m good,” she quickly blurted out and gave the man a big smile. “I’m so sorry!” As she tried to stand up again a sharp pain pulsed through her foot and she found herself limping, wincing in discomfort. Her top was cold against her body from the beer and the whiff of the dark lager made her nauseous all over again. 

Then, out of nowhere, she felt a strong arm sneak around her waist and pull her body close, supporting her and allowing her to not put any weight on her left foot. 

Harry. 

“Can you stand?” he asked and tightened his grip around her as he felt her falter again. 

“I’m fine,” she told him quickly, trying to put her foot down and push him off her. A small groan escaped her as she felt another sharp pain shoot through her ankle. She could still feel several eyes on her from around the room. Her heart rate picked up again and she bowed her head down, to let her hair cover most of her face. If it hadn’t been for the pulsating pain in her foot she would’ve ran right out of there. 

The fact that she couldn’t made her rethink her decision to not buy those tickets to Svalbard. 

“You’re not,” Harry told her with a frown. He turned to the man she had bumped into. She heard him say something, but she was far too busy regretting every life choice she had ever made to make out any words they said. 

Then she felt him drag her arm over his shoulders and he moved her body forward. “C’mon, I’ll take you upstairs and get you cleaned up.” 

“What?” she fretted. “No, I’m fine. Honestly, I fall over all the time.” 

“You can’t walk,” Harry told her and rolled his eyes. 

“I can,” she tried to argue weakly, pushing him off her again. Harry let her but still made sure to keep his arm around her loosely. As soon as her foot touched the floor she winced and pulled it back up, leaning against him for support. The pain was evident through her fake smile and Harry raised his brows. 

“You can walk, huh?” 

“I’m fine. We don’t have to leave.” 

“Stop being so stubborn please,” Harry grumbled. “We need to get some ice for your foot and you need a change of clothes.” 

While most of her wanted to run out of there and never return; there was a small piece of her pride that couldn’t accept that Harry was right. The only logical thing was to get out of there and go lie down. 

But accepting defeat made the reality of her little stumble far too real, and Y/N couldn’t quite handle the fact that she had slipped over and hurt herself in front of the whole pub yet. 

However, as she made another attempt to stand on her foot and another wave of pain shot through her foot she finally accepted defeat. 

“Okay then,” she sighed heavily. “Let’s go.” 

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When Harry finally unlocked the door to his flat Y/N was exhausted, her ankle was throbbing in pain with every single step she took. 

Getting up the steep stairs had taken them twice as long as it normally would. It was almost impossible to put any weight on her foot, and she could tell Harry was starting to lose his patience when they were only about halfway up. 

Although, she wasn’t sure whether it was because of her childish whining, him having to basically carry her, or the way she kept apologizing to him. 

Probably all three. 

Once inside, Harry helped her over to his bed and assisted her as she tried to get her shoes off. When she was finally seated he picked up one of the pillows and carefully placed it at the end of the bed, lifting her leg onto it to make sure her foot was elevated. 

“You don’t have to-” 

“Y/N, just- shush,” Harry interrupted her and put a hand up to stop her from talking and going into another round of apologies. “Please.” 

“Sorry.” 

Harry gave her a tired look.  

Y/N wanted to apologize again but managed to stop herself. While she was grateful to finally be able to sit down and rest; she didn’t want to be more of a burden to him than she already was. 

The fact that he had to take care of her after everything that she had forced him into made her feel even more selfish. 

Harry walked over to the small fridge and pulled out a bottle of water. He paused for a moment and muttered something to himself before coming back over to her. 

“Here,” he said and handed her the bottle. “Drink.” 

“Thank you,” she mumbled and watched as he walked over to his dresser, pulling out a similar set of sweats she had borrowed from him the last time she was there. “You really don’t have to-” 

“You are covered in beer,” Harry interrupted her again and then glanced down at her legs. “You’ve also ripped your tights.” 

Y/N looked down at her knees and discovered there was a tear in the thin material across her knee and up along her thigh. Her cheeks flushed. 

“Oh.” 

“Yeah, and I’d rather not have my sheets reeking of old beer and food from the pub.” 

“That... that makes sense." 

“I know,” Harry said and surprisingly let out a small chuckle before handing her the clothes he had pulled out. “So please, stop being so uncooperative and just… just let me help you.” 

“I don’t think I can get to the bathroom to change,” Y/N admitted and looked down at her foot. She tried to move it again and immediately regretted it. 

“Oh, right,” Harry cleared his throat. “Well, I’ll give you some privacy.” 

“Thanks,” she smiled softly and watched as he turned his back to her and slowly started walking towards the bathroom to let her change in peace. “Wait!” 

“Huh?” 

“Where is my phone?” she asked. “And my bag?” 

Harry frowned. 

“Probably still downstairs in the pub,” he replied after a moment of contemplation. Y/N groaned as she realized neither of them had gotten it from the table before leaving. Before she could complain about having to go back down the stairs though - Harry quickly spoke again. “I’ll go get it while you change.” 

“No, it’s okay, I’ll-” 

“You’ll stay and change,” Harry told her firmly. “Took us long enough to get you up those stairs once. It’ll be quicker if I go.” 

“Rude.” 

“I’ll be back soon,” Harry rolled his eyes. “And you, just rest your foot and drink your water, Ducky. Don’t try to walk anywhere.” 

“Alright, Grumpy,” she mocked and Harry shook his head at her before leaving her alone in the small flat. 

The ringing in her ears intensified once more as soon as she found herself finally sitting in complete silence. She took a big gulp of the water Harry had given her and took a couple of seconds to sit back, gathering some strength to change out of her beer-drenched clothes. "Ugh, fuck," she muttered to herself as a small wave of nausea washed over her.

She was never drinking again. 

At least the calm of Harry's flat was making her feel a little bit better. The stuffy pub had done nothing to help her swirling head. If anything it had only made her feel worse; seeing as she had humiliated herself by tripping over in front of everyone. 

Y/N shivered at the reminder of her fall. 

Getting changed was as much of a struggle as getting up the stairs had been. Her foot hurt and she nearly fell over again as she tried to stand and shimmy out of her clothes. Her skirt and shirt along with her ripped tights ended up in a heap on the floor and she felt a little bad for just leaving them there, making a mess, but she couldn’t find the energy to pick them up. 

But, quite contradictory, as she went to sit down again; her eye caught the small picture frame on the dresser she had seen the first time she was there. 

And despite her body telling her to sit down, the flicker of curiosity sparking up inside her was far too strong for her drunk brain to ignore.  

She stood up again and made her way around the bed, alternating between limping and jumping on one leg, until she reached the dresser. Y/N had promised herself she would stop being so nosey and let Harry decide what he wanted to share with her about his life, but with Little Y/N drowning in a sea of tequila again she had no voice of reason telling her to stop. 

The small picture had been on her mind since she first saw it. With Harry being so reserved, the idea of him having a picture up that related to his past was far too intriguing. 

As she picked up the frame and got a closer look at the memory he had displayed a warmth spread through her. It was a picture of three people. Two women and a small boy. Y/N immediately recognized one of the women, whom she had recently learned was Harry’s grandmother. 

The other woman looked a lot like Ruth. She had the same crooked nose and big lips. Her hair was blond with much darker roots and frizzy ends. The woman had a big smile on her lips as she had an arm around the small boy, despite the rest of her looking tired and worn down.  

But even in the old grainy photo her piercing green eyes were what stood out the most. It was the same deep green she had been getting the know for a couple of weeks now. 

Harry’s mother. 

It had to be. 

Her attention fell on the small boy in Ruth’s lap, which was undoubtedly Harry himself. His hair was much lighter than his current style and he was yet to develop the any sort of pattern to his strands. By just looking at his younger self you never could’ve guessed that his hair would turn into the wavy mess he had as an adult. Similar to the two adults, he had a huge grin on his face as he held a small gift, wrapped in a colorful paper, in his tiny hands. 

He looked like the happiest little boy around, a pair of dimples forming on both sides of his face, surrounded by two people who loved him unconditionally. 

Y/N smiled at the photo. It was heart-warming. 

Unfortunately, it didn’t help her curiosities much. Harry gave the impression he was no longer close to any of his family, and he didn’t seem like he wanted to be. 

Yet, he kept a photo of his mother displayed on his dresser. 

She wanted to ask him about it, to know everything about him and his life, but she knew she couldn’t force him to open up. She shouldn’t even be snooping around like she was. 

And really, she was bound to get caught. 

Which was exactly what happened. 

”First the photo on Instagram and now this,” his voice startled her out of her thoughts. She looked up with big eyes. Harry stood by the door, her jacket and bag hanging from his arm, and shook his head disapprovingly. He didn’t look upset though, his lips were surprisingly turned up in a soft smile. ”I really should be asking for more than just 10 pounds.” 

”Well,” Y/N started and put the frame down again, her cheeks warm and mouth dry. ”You still haven’t used your free haircut.”

Harry gave her a dry chuckle and then turned around to close the front door behind him, making sure it was locked. 

His hair was a tousled mess from constantly running his hands through it all night. And as he stood under the yellow sheen from the light, she noticed for the first time how rosy his cheeks were. 

And Y/N realized, while he was nowhere near her level of drunk, Finn had gotten to him as well. 

The way he carried himself as he walked further into the room, placing her things on the old armchair, was different from his usual rigid stride. His body moved slowly across the small room, his posture slouchy and loose; the tension in his shoulders long gone.

Y/N swore there was even a slight wobble to his steps. 

”I thought I told you to rest,” Harry reminded her and raised one of his brows as he looked back at her. Y/N gave him an innocent smile. ”Go sit down.” 

”Yes, Sir,” she replied and playfully saluted him, immediately regretting the words leaving her mouth. 

Harry pretended like he hadn’t heard her and just offered his hand to her to help her get back into bed. 

The number of times she had held his hand throughout the night was staggering, and Y/N slowly found herself enjoying the familiarity of his strong fingers wrapped around hers. 

When she sat back down on the bed, Harry made sure her foot was elevated once again and picked up what looked like a kitchen towel bundled up into a ball. Carefully, he placed it over her ankle and Y/N hissed at the coldness. 

”Sorry,” Harry apologized quietly, looking down at her ankle and the bundle of ice he had made downstairs in White Deer’s kitchen. 

”Ughh, I’m such a dunce,” she groaned and let her head fall backward, hitting the wall with a small thud. ”Why couldn’t I be born with the grace of like… like a ballerina or something? It’s so unfair.” 

”I’m pretty sure tequila is to blame for this as well,” Harry noted and gently moved the ice to another part of her foot. Y/N glanced at him as he tended to her injury. He sat crouched down next to her beside the bed, doing his best to help ease the pain in her ankle, and she was struck by the same appreciation she had felt earlier. 

Harry was doing so much for her, too much, and he was barely getting anything back in return. She hadn’t even paid him for his troubles yet. So really, he had gotten nothing for taking her out on a date, letting her stay the night, joining her friends, and now taking care of her and her stupid ankle. 

She needed to figure out what she owed him and pay him promptly. 

”Harry,” she started with a soft sigh, getting his attention. He looked away from her ankle and his piercing green eyes sent a shiver down her spine as they met hers. She sucked her bottom lip in between her teeth and broke their eye contact for a brief moment to gather her thoughts. ”Thank you. I really do-” 

”Don’t worry about it,” Harry immediately cut her off again. 

”Can you please just let me finish what I want to say for once?” Y/N huffed in frustration and lightly shoved his shoulder, making him lose his balance for a moment. Harry’s mouth fell open, as if he was about to protest and tell her to be quiet again, but instead, Y/N watched as his tongue poked out to lick his lips. He gave her a short nod. 

”M’sorry,” he murmured. 

”I just- I’m…” Y/N trailed off, unsure of what to actually say to express her gratitude for him without making things weird. She wanted him to know that she still wanted them to be friends when the whole plan was over. That she had somehow grown very fond of the relationship they were building. 

There was a huge possibility he did not feel the same way though. 

She did not want to assume anything and make him uncomfortable, making him feel like he had no say in the matter, especially not when she was pretty much stuck at his place for the night. ”I just- I just wanted to say that I really do appreciate everything you’ve done for me. You really didn’t have to do any of this, and I just want you to know that I’m very thankful for it all. I know you probably don't feel the same, but I’m happy you came tonight. You are a great friend - a great person.” 

Harry didn’t say anything at first, and when he eventually did Y/N found herself staring after him completely dumbfounded. 

”Right, well, I’m gonna go get ready for bed,” he told her awkwardly, and within a couple of seconds, Harry had disappeared into the small bathroom. The bundle of ice slipped off her foot and down to the floor, but Y/N didn’t pay it any attention. She was too busy trying to figure out what had made him walk away so abruptly.

The silent room was soon filled by the sounds of squeaking pipes, the running water from the bathroom sink struggling to flow through. 

Normally, she would worry that the whole building was going to flood over due to a leak from the old pipes. But Y/N’s mind was working overtime, thinking through every word she had just said, trying to figure out if she said anything bad. 

Maybe he didn’t like the fact that she had called him her friend? What if he didn’t think of them as friends? 

And what if when her plan was over he wouldn’t actually talk to her ever again?

She squeezed her eyes closed, trying to ignore her heavy heart, and sank deeper into the bed, hoping it would somehow swallow her whole. 

It had to be the tequila making her feel so strange about the whole thing. It had to be. Her plan was, in her opinion, actually working. There was no reason to start second-guessing everything. 

The goal of her plan was to make Reece jealous enough to finally ask her out.

The goal wasn’t to make a new friend. 

She had plenty of friends already. 

She’d be fine. 

As she repeated that mantra over and over again in her head, her body slowly started to relax and sleep was quickly looming over her. 

The door to the bathroom opened and Harry came out, tiptoeing around the flat to turn the lights off and get himself some water. It wasn’t until she felt the mattress dip and his warm body fall down next to her in the cramped bed that her eyes fluttered open.  

She had forgotten how small his bed actually was; how close they would be sharing it again. He tried his best to give her some space and allowed her to once again have all of the duvet. Both to create a barrier between them and to make sure she stayed warm throughout the night.  

Y/N turned to face him as best as she could, wincing a little as her foot ached with the movement. He had changed into one of his hoodies, the hood pulled up over his head to cover as much of himself as possible. His hair stuck out under the fabric and fell down over his forehead in a single beautiful curl. 

Before she could stop herself she reached over and twirled the lock of hair between her fingers, finally allowing herself to get a feel of his texture. It surprised her how soft it was, even though she could tell he hadn’t gotten it cut in a while. It felt brittle and dry as she let the strands flow through her touch. Her mind immediately went to thinking about different hair masks she could give to him, and hopefully bring his dry curls back to life. 

Harry stopped her, placing his hand over hers and slowly pulled it away from his hair. But he didn’t let it go. He kept her hand in his, resting them on top of his chest as he gingerly let his own fingers run between hers, playing delicately. 

For a moment, Y/N thought that he was asleep, unaware of what he was doing. As her eyes got more used to the dark around them though she saw that he was still wide awake. 

She could feel his heartbeat beneath their hands, slow and steady, and felt her own heart picking up. 

He was so close, yet, she found herself wanting to get closer. Her fingers itched to reach up again and smooth out the deep crinkle between his brows, easing whatever was on his mind. 

Much like the last time she had found herself sharing the cramped bed with him, the darkness made the situation less intimidating. Not having his intense gaze directly on her or the daylight reminding them of reality was reassuring. His fingers playing softly with hers were quickly lulling her right back to her sleep-dazed state. 

And maybe it was the intimacy and comfort of it all that made her confident enough to open her mouth again. 

Or maybe it was still just the tequila. 

”Is that your mum in the picture?” She asked him with a small whisper, not wanting to startle him too much or upset him. 

”It is, yeah,” he replied and inhaled deeply, his chest rising under their hands. 

”She’s very pretty,” Y/N told him and paused for a moment. ”You look a lot like her.” 

”Yeah,” he nodded. ”So I’ve been told.” 

Y/N kept her eyes on him, trying to figure out if she was crossing a line again by talking about his family. 

Then another picture popped up in the back of her mind, and she knew she was not going to be able to ignore it. He had mentioned it before and the reminder had sparked her curiosities right back to life. 

She swallowed nervously before speaking again. 

”The girl in the picture I liked… who is she?” Y/N felt bad for asking and bringing her up, but she had to know.

Because what if Harry was engaged to someone? If he was about to get married to someone else, forcing him to take her out on a date certainly made her already foolish plan seem even stupider, even if it was fake.

Harry let out another deep sigh, almost as if he had been expecting the question to come up. 

”Her name’s Tamara,” he told her and Y/N could feel his body tensing up next to her. 

“Is she your ex or…?” She asked hesitantly, waiting for any signs that he was annoyed. When he didn’t shut her down she quietly added; “I saw a ring.” 

“Yeah,” he mumbled and closed his eyes. “Ex-fiancée.” 

“What happened?” Y/N continued curiously. Harry kept his eyes closed and silence fell between them as the crinkle between his brows deepened. ”You know you can talk to me, right? I won’t tell anyone. I know that you don’t really like me all that mu-” 

”That’s not true,” Harry cut her off abruptly and opened his eyes again to look right at her. He still had her hand in his, unintentionally giving it a light squeeze. ”I just- I don’t really like to talk about it.” 

“Maybe you need to talk about it with someone?” She suggested softly. “Sometimes that helps.” 

“Maybe.” 

Another heavy silence followed after that, crowding the space between them. If she hadn’t seen him staring at the ceiling in deep thought, Y/N would’ve assumed he had fallen asleep again. She gave his hand a small squeeze, hoping it would give him some sort of comfort. “We met after I finished uni. At one of Patrick’s charity events... I thought she was the one.” 

“And she wasn’t?”

“Well, I’m here now aren’t I?” Harry scoffed bitterly, though he seemed to regret it when he noticed the small pout on her face. He pressed his lips together in a firm line, sighing. “She wasn’t.” 

“Why not?” 

“Because I realized she wasn’t who I thought she was,” he admitted and there was a sadness to his voice that she hadn’t heard before. ”Being with me was more about the status it brought her than being with me out of love.” The words leaving him made her heart ache for the small boy she had seen in the photo earlier. “And I caught her cheating on me with one of my co-workers.”  

“Oh, Harry,” she mumbled. ”I’m so sorry.” 

There was still so much she didn’t know about him, but from what little she did know, it was slowly becoming more clear to her why the grumpy man next to her was so reserved.

“It is what it is.” 

“Is that why you’re here?” 

“One of the reasons, yeah,” he admitted with a nod. “Just needed to get away from it all.” 

“So you’re here hiding?” Y/N asked, her mind spinning with all the new information he had just given her instead of the alcohol. 

“No one is really looking.” 

“I’m sure your mum misses you,” Y/N frowned sadly. 

“Who knows,” he shrugged it off with an empty laugh. 

“Have you talked to her since you left?” She wondered and continued when he didn’t reply. “Does she at least know you’re alive?” 

“She does,” he confirmed shortly, and it was all she needed to know he was done with the topic of their conversation. 

“I’m sorry,” she comforted softly and gave his hand another gentle squeeze. It surprised her that he was still keeping her hand in his, allowing himself to be so close to her. Maybe the tequila had gotten to him a lot more than she had first thought. ”I won’t ask more questions. I know it’s not very fun, but if you ever need someone to talk to- I’m here.” 

Harry hummed quietly and Y/N turned to face the ceiling again, focusing on the same dark spot she had the last time she spent the night. The angle of her arm on his chest, her hand in his, was straining and uncomfortable. 

Yet, she didn’t pull back. 

It was far too soothing to have his fingers linked around hers to let go. 

She would’ve fallen asleep like that if it hadn’t been for the fact that Harry suddenly spoke up again. 

”Do you really think Reece will make you happy?” 

The question made her heart drop instantly. When she turned to look at him again he was already looking at her. 

”I don’t- I-” she couldn’t find the right words to say, or rather, the right answer. She had spent so long daydreaming of being with the blonde hunk - she had never questioned it before. 

Because, of course, she’d be happy. 

Why wouldn’t she be? He was everything she wanted. He was good-looking, close to his family, charming and he made her laugh. There had never been any reason for her to doubt her feelings for him. Until now apparently. ”Maybe.” 

”You are too good for him,” Harry murmured quietly, his raspy voice making her skin tingle with goosebumps. 

Y/N tried her best to hide her disappointment when Harry let go of her hand, leaving her with an unsettling sense of emptiness. 

He adjusted his body, the mattress creaking beneath them, and as he eventually stilled he was on his side facing her, and somehow, even closer than before. 

Then, as she felt his warm breath fawn out over her face, her already foggy mind completely evaporated, leaving her unable to give her lungs the air they desperately needed to function. 

He was so close. So so close. 

And her body responded on its own as she lifted her chin and bumped her nose against his.

She couldn’t think. The whole night had been a roller-coaster. From Harry and Reece sizing each other up, to her hurting her ankle and telling Harry how much she appreciated him. Only to have him walk away and then come back to share parts of his life she hadn’t heard before. 

None of it made any sense. Nothing could’ve prepared her for the several turns the night had taken.  

And the only thing her useless brain could think of to blame it on was the tequila. 

Or actually, the only thing her useless brain could really think about was the small distance between her and Harry’s lips. 

When the hand that had been in hers not long ago brushed her cheek, pushing a strand of her hair behind her ear, her heart decided it no longer had any room left in her chest. It sent an explosion of anticipation through her. 

Her eyes fell shut as she moved to face him, also laying on her side, ignoring the pain in her foot. She heard him swallow harshly when her hips pressed into his, and his nose bumped against hers again.

Suddenly, all of her senses were heightened to their fullest. She could hear her own heavy breathing, feel her own chest rising with every breath and the blood pumping through her veins, making her feel like her whole body was on fire. Her hand was back on his chest, his heartbeat throbbing steadily against her palm, perfectly in sync with her own. 

She lifted her head a little bit more, their warm breaths mixing as one as his upper lip brushed lightly against her mouth. 

All she had to do was tilt her head a little to the left and their lips would meet in an unexpected dance. 

It seemed harmless, but it would change everything. 

Whatever she decided to do it would undoubtedly take their agreement to a whole other level of complicated.

And it was a decision she couldn't think clearly about when his rough stubble scratched against her chin in the most irresistible way. 

But before she could make the choice to close the tiny gap between them; he made the choice for her. 

”We should go to sleep, Ducky.” 

And just like that the fire in her was extinguished. The anticipation simmering in her blood was drowned by six little words, leaving her cold and frozen. 

”Oh,” was all she could say as Harry pulled back and created another barrier between them. ”Right, yeah, of course.” 

She looked at him, trying to make sense of what the hell had just happened, but was left in a breathless mess. Harry refused to meet her gaze, once again keeping his focus straight ahead with a tense jaw. ”Uhm, good night then?” 

”Good night.” 

It had taken her weeks to finally see a crack in his tough shell, and judging by how cold his voice had just sounded, it had only taken a minute for the crack to be sealed shut. 

Y/N didn’t have a good night after that. 

.

✄✄✄✄✄✄✄✄✄✄✄✄✄✄✄✄✄✄✄✄✄✄✄✄✄✄✄✄

A/N:  As always, please leave a comment, like and share if you enjoyed it! It helps my motivation to get the next part out for you guys massively. I’m dying to know your thoughts on this part so PLEASE let me know. Your support means the world to ME! 

💏 TAGLIST: @annesauriol  @boomitsallie1 @caramello-styles @tenaciousperfectionunknown @perfectywrong​ @behindmygreyeyes @carolina-kiwi  @jessitpwk @sunshinemoonsposts​ @inlikea-coolway​

let me know if you want to be added<3

[nikkisheep]

Memory I Don't Mess With Part 3

Dean Winchester x female!reader

Warnings: Angst, SAM'S POV, cursing, kinda GRAPHIC torture, spn elements, drinking, drunk Sam, castiel is worried, sam says some hurtful things to cas, tension, DEAN'S POV AT THE END

Summary: Told from Sam's view, he looks at every corner for his brother.

He was supposed to be there. He was supposed to go with him, but he didn't. Sam knew that how Dean was coping with your death. He knew that Dean would not be in the right mind but with a crippling ache in the wound on his side from the hunt that lead from your death. You had stabbed him straight in between the ribs, thankfully angling down toward a less needed muscle.

Sam was racked with grief. He didn't know where Dean was. He didn't know what happened. He didn't know anything. He could practically hear your voice yelling at him. "Sam, he is your brother. You have to look at every possible clue. For God's sake you are a hunter, you should be able to find him." That is what you would have told him.

---

"Tell me where he is," Sam yelled, cutting deeper into the vampire's arm.

"I don't know anything," The vampire panted, pain overcoming every bit of her body.

"You're lying! Tell me where he is."

"I don't kn-" Blood gushed from the vampire's severed head.

Sam walked to the table with all of the equipment that he needed. He had captured several, several monsters to get the information he needed.

---

"And you said that he just left?" Sam questioned.

"Yes, he took the bottle with him." The bartender told him the exact same thing that he said when Sam questioned him the first time, and the second time, and the third time.

"Sir, are you sure there isn't anything else you could tell me about his disappearance?"

"Like I said the last few times you were here, he looked upset, a girl flirted and he ignored her. He bought a bottle and then walked out."

---

"Tell me where he fucking is!" Sam yelled at the tied down demon.

"You looking for someone, Sammy?" The demon taunted.

Sam punched the demon square in the face. The demon laughed.

More holy water got poured into a hole that was deeply cut into the demon's shoulder.

"You keep talking but I ain't hearing what I need to know," Sam spits at the demon.

Sam's hands were shaking, he hadn't gotten much sleep since Dean's disappearance. He wanted his brother back. No, he needed his brother back.

Sam stabbed the demon with the knife from Ruby that she gave him those years ago.

---

"Sam," Castiel appeared in the room.

Sam was nursing a bottle of whiskey and it was nearly gone.

"What?"

"Dean's disappearance is taking a toll on you," the angel said.

"No shit, Cas. He's my brother." Sam chugged another helping of the burning liquor.

"You're drinking yourself to an oblivion. Sam, I'm worried for you."

Sam looked up at the dark haired angel and darkly chuckled.

"You're worried about me?" Cas nodded, a frown forming on his brow.

"Dean is out there probably dying and I can't find him. I can't help him and you're worried about me?" Sam's drunken mind was causing him to lash out, Castiel knew that.

"Sam, this is not your fault."

"It's not? Really? Castiel, I can't find my brother and I have tried everything I can to find any information."

"Torturing monsters, Sam, is not going to bring your brother back."

"What did you say?" He asked, stepping closer to the other man.

"You know that these monsters have no information to give."

"No, why are you talking like Dean is dead?" The angel looked hurt.

"Is he dead, Cas?" The word "dead" tasted like acid rolling off Sam's tongue.

"I-"

"Tell me, is he dead Castiel?" Sam yelled. Anger consuming him.

"I don't know."

"What the hell do you mean you don't know? Tell me where he is, Cas."

"Sam, I can't because I DON'T KNOW." Castiel was getting upset. He cared about Dean too and Sam was treating him as if he didn't know that.

---

Dean's POV

Dean woke, holding the love of his life. He kissed her cheek, feeling her warmth as she slept beside him. He knew that even though he is having painful memories that he didn't actually have, he could just look at you and know that he is at home. You are his home and he never wants to leave you again. He will not leave you again, no matter what.

TAG LIST:

@deans-spinster-witch

@deans-spinster-witch (Just wanted you to know there was another part)

[lilyoffandoms]

Hey there! No pressure to do this, but if you want to indulge me... it could be a scene, quick dialogue, or a full fic if you wish (or you can toss this! lol)

AU where Gabirel and Trystan meet for the first time at a bar after both of their blind dates stood them up.

Crimes Drabble AU - Trystan x Gabriel

Warning & A/N: None other than drinking. Decided to write in the style I’ve come to for this book/pairing. Thanks much for this. It was fun!

Quote edit by the lovely @aallotarenunelma

I look out across the crowded pub.

Stuffed to the brim.

Across the room, sweaty bodies grind against their dance partner and everyone else on the packed floor as music pumps from the speakers of some wanna be deejay that the bartender’s brother’s cousin’s neighbor probably convinced the manager to hire on for the night.

The tables in the back of the place that constitutes the restaurant portion this bar slash wanna be pub, are full of couples feeding french fries to each other and groups of raucous friends laughing over some stupid joke told every time they go out together.

Each seat at the rail is occupied by a mix of drunks drowning their sorrows. Or drunks hoping beyond hope that the answer to all their troubles is at the bottom of their next glass. Or drunks hitting on the poor soul next to them, spewing some cheap pick up line that never works but maybe it will this time, they think, if only the person they use it on is drunk enough to find it endearing through the filter of all the alcohol.

I knew I shouldn’t have bothered tonight. It felt wrong the minute I said sure, why not.

Why fucking not indeed, I had thought in the moment. Ruby wouldn’t set me up with anyone she didn’t think I’d hit it off with. She convinced me and I convinced myself that it would be good for me.

I toss the last contents of my glass back and look for one of bartenders. One mixing drinks, another restocking, and yet another flirting for tips.

Well, this, this right here was why fucking not. A text promising to make it up to me and reschedule soon.

I’ve met enough people, hell I’ve interrogated enough people to recognize a lie when I see one.

I attempt to flag the bartender down again. Any of them. I just want another drink.

I look down into my empty glass. Maybe it can tell me why I was this stupid. Stupid enough to accept his blind date set up and even more stupid to actually show up.

The promise of love was really just one disappointment after another.

I try to wave anyone down at this point. I need another damn drink because this empty one is providing me no answers.

What a fucking joke!

I stand on the rail and glance over the bar that at one time was polished. I see the bottle I’m looking for and stretch out to reach it while trying desperately to avoid touching the sticky bar.

“Here,” an accented voice smiles as a hand reaches beyond my own grasp to snag the bottle and pours me another glass in one incredibly fluid motion.

The woman next to me, that the stranger has reached around, doesn’t seem the least bit annoyed by this person pouring drinks across her own space at the bar. In fact, she seems quite please with the entire situation as she smiles stupidly at my bartending savior.

She lifts her glass to him and he obliges in pouring her another drink with a dashing smile and some flirty words judging by the blush that creeps down her neck to engulf not only her cheeks but her entire chest on full display.

I shake my head and grin at the exchange. I should have known this blind date was a horrific idea the minute my date suggested this place.

This is so not my scene.

“Thanks,” I mumble absentmindedly, sure that he’s moved on to entertain the woman beside me.

I take a sip and close my eyes wishing I was back home as the man shoves his way past her, making his excuses, and stands beside my bar stool.

“You are most welcome,” he grins as he picks up the conversation I was foolish enough to initiate. “I’m just pleased I could buy you a drink.”

“Technically you didn’t. You stole one,” I say with little emotion as I stare straight ahead into the mirror and watch him.

He hasn’t taken his eyes off me, not even acknowledging the woman still trying to regain his attention beside him.

“What?” I ask sharply and turn to him as he continues to grin at me.

“Hello.”

He smiles at me, that same brilliant smile he’s tossed at just about everyone that has paid him any attention since he walked into the place tonight.

“Hi,” I respond.

Smooth, I chastise myself.

I wish I hadn’t noticed him. I wish he hadn’t walked over here. I wish-

I wish he would tell me his name.

“Trystan.”

I narrow my eyes at him, it’s like he’s read my mind. I don’t like it. I don’t trust it.

I look at his hand extended in the little space between us and finally take it.

“Gabriel.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Gabriel.”

His voice is honey and I’m stupid enough to want nothing more than to hear my name on his lips again. I simply nod in response and turn back to the mirror across the bar.

Anything to distract myself and avoid him.

“What brings you out here tonight?” he asks.

I can’t help but chuckle. “That line ever work for you?”

His laugh is bright and genuine as he answers, “It’s not a line. I am simply trying to start up a conversation with the gorgeous, albeit brooding, man at the bar, who is drinking alone.”

“That line ever work for you?” I grin

“You tell me.”

I turn back to him and take my time looking him over, deciding whether he’s worth the time or effort.

Sharply dressed, even for a bar, even for a New York bar. Expensive, tailored suit. Manicured nails. Hands that have probably never seen a days hard labor. A ring with a snake on it. Gold, large, expensive. Sculpted brows and neatly trimmed facial hair. Product in his hair and cologne that undoubtedly costs more than my month’s rent.

Maybe worth it for some fun but definitely not for the heartache that will inevitably come from messing with the likes of him.

Nope. No way. This would be a disaster before it even started.

“Tempting, but I don’t mess with,” I pause and look him over again, “with…,” I trail off unsure how to put ‘rich snobs’ nicely.

“With what?”

“With whatever you are,” I gesture at him.

“And what am I? Beyond the given.”

“And what’s the given?” I’m stupid enough to ask.

“A mysterious and handsome stranger that came to your rescue,” he winks.

I chuckle and shake my head. “You’re not my type. I don’t go for rich flirts.”

“Rich flirt?” his laugh rings out across even the din of the pub. “What makes you think I’m that?”

“Your suit and overall appearance tell me you are wealthy. Money has never been an issue for you. More than likely, you have more than you know what to do with. Your smiles, winks, and overall demeanor with everyone in here tells me you are a serial flirt. Too smooth and confident in how good looking you are. Those looks have seen you through life, and I’d wager, into plenty of beds.”

I watch as his smile grows with each of my words. Not what I was expecting, but I stand by my evaluation and my resolve to not let him flirt his way into anything with me.

“Should I continue?” I ask to distract myself from getting lost in the brilliance of that smile.

“Please do,” he laughs. “But only over dinner.”

He stands and holds his hand out to me.

“I don’t think so,” I say as I swallow the last of my stolen drink. “But thanks.”

“You are really going to let me dine alone? I have a table over there and a date that didn’t show up. Join me and tell me about all my other faults while I convince you I could be exactly your type.”

“Or my next mistake,” I say.

“Maybe,” he shrugs with a grin. “But, either way, I’m bound to be way more thrilling than sitting alone.”

“Fine,” I sigh as I stupidly let myself be talked out of all reason and into whatever brand of madness he is.

——————————

All Choices Tag: @storyofmychoices @peonierose @aallotarenunelma @inlocusmads

Other Tags: @choicesbookclub

[momsforroadhead]

Liam Wilhelmina appreciation post ACOC ep 9

"Thirty! Five. Of my sexy parents. Want to spread you, like soft cheese on a cracker."

Sleep-drunk, goes up to Anabelle: "Thirty five. Moms, dads... Are gonna bang you out!" And then collapses into sleep right there in front of her.

Tries to compliment Primsy by telling her "I like your bandage!"

Explaining why he's so good at combat now: "It's pretty crazy what thick grief will do to you. I'm kind of drowning in the middle of a big sea of grief and regret. And my obsession with revenge has given me new abilities!"

Ally implies that they practice not dropping their dice all over the place at home.

Ally says Emily "snogged brie down", whatever that means.

Right after learning that Sir Maurice Brie is a knight in the Bulbian Church, he goes "Do you like it? It's bullshit right?" and immediately gets smacked in the head.

Following Jet and Ruby's suggestion, he tries to seduce Brie by telling him: "You look like you could really pack it in." Brie challenges him to a duel. To get out of it, he tries to explain that he was referring to camping but it doesn't work cause he admits that he hasn't "touched a seed in a long time". He then follows up with "You just look like you have a big capacity to um... Do you wanna get a drink sometime?" and gets smacked in the head again.

"I need to sharpen my flirting skills a little bit more..." Cumulous instructs Liam to flirt with him. "What? Um, I think you're probably ready to take it." Cumulous likes it! "You're ready to get slammed down, big style! This is what all my parents used to say and they each loved it!"

Brennan describes Liam as "Peppermint Batman"

In response to Jet having many stick and poke tattoos: "What are you, a bartender? That was me flirting!!"

"I'm two feet away trying to take a shit, my ass is out and everybody-- I'm a war guy now!!!"

About Cumulous, to Calroy: "Who's the hottie?"

Right after Caramelinda says she considers him one of her children, he stealths away from the conversation. Or rather, tries to, because she gets a nat 20, turns the grass into caramel and makes him (and everybody) sink into the ground.

"What, your mom's tearaway underwear? We're going on a mission cause you saw tearaway underwear?"

"Was that fucking Ciabatta? I'm done. I'm done with this season."

And then Ally from the AP:

They are drinking out of a vase again, because they "don't have cups".

The vase seems to be part of a "stand-up britta".

Ally now has to shamefully drink out of their vase, because everyone is being quiet so the screen stays on them.

"We begged. I had my dog with my, I had an emotional support dog: Brennan kicked it, he fed it dice..."

When Brennan comes back from slamming a piss down big style, everybody stops talking behind his back and Ally starts doing high pitched little screems like girls catching up at brunch.

Brennan reminds Ally that they need to leave and they casually respond "Thank you baby!"

[theladyofdeath]

could you maybe do a holiday prompt which involves someone getting drunk at the holiday party lol

Ship: Rowaelin // Rowan x Aelin A/N: Ugh, I just adore it when someone gets awkwardly drunk. I hope you enjoy! Thank you for the prompt! x T/W: Drunkenness, language

Rowan hated Christmas music.

White Christmas had been playing for what felt like forever. It was not a party song, not in the slightest; and yet, here it was...playing at a party. It made the night he had been dreading drag on even longer.

He felt like he'd been there for at least an hour.

It had only been ten minutes.

Although not his dream job by any means, Rowan didn't hate his job. He went in every morning, got his shit done, and went home in peace. The majority of his coworkers, however, were not who he considered people that he would be hanging out with outside of the office. Most of them were over thirty years his senior, and most of the others thought they were hot shit considering they made almost triple digits a year.

There was only one face he was excited to see on the daily, but she had yet to arrive.

The hotel that was hosting their annual company Christmas party was beautiful. It was old, one of the oldest buildings in Orynth and had been revamped just enough to keep it thriving. The original copper ceilings still hung above him and a crystal chandelier glittered in the strung Christmas lights. The room they were currently in had surely once been one of the many ballrooms, but it had been transformed into a restaurant with a dance floor.

Rowan sat at the bar.

Alone.

Glancing down at his half-empty glass, Rowan thought of everywhere else he could be. He could be at Lorcan's, also getting drunk but at least getting drunk with someone he liked....and downing drinks that were cheaper than ten dollars a glass. He could also be with Fenrys, or Vaughan, or Gavriel, or Connall, or at home by himself, enjoying the silence and doing whatever the hell he wanted.

Maybe it was the fact that the party was mandatory. Maybe that's what pissed him off. If he had the option to come, he probably would have come anyway, but at least he'd have the freedom to do so.

Damn, where was she?

Rowan finished his drink and ordered another. By the time an hour had actually passed, Rowan had a line of empty glasses in his past and his toes were feeling funny. Light. Tingly.

This time when he ordered another one, the bartender paused. "You're not driving home, right?"

Rowan snorted - a snort that he felt went on a little too long. "I- I live in the city. Of course I'm not driving."

It was obvious.

No one drove in the city. Rowan did have a car, but it sat in the parking garage until he left the city limits. He wouldn't dare drive himself if he was going anywhere within city limits. Parking was a bitch. And too costly.

Why pay for parking when you're already paying for drinks?

A taxi was cheaper for the mile back to his apartment.

Rowan ordered another glass.

And that's when she walked in.

Aelin Galathynius, the only woman that worked in his office that was under the age of sixty, strode into the room like she owned the place. Her golden hair was unbound and the dark green dress that she had donned was far too scandalous for their regular nine to five.

Gods, she was gorgeous.

She was always beautiful, no matter what she wore, no matter what day it was. At first, Rowan couldn't stand her. She was too stubborn and that mouth of hers? He had never heard such a loose tongue. The same reasons he had hated her were now the same reasons that he now couldn't stop thinking about her. Every day, especially on those days that he dreaded sitting in his cubicle, she's what got him out of bed and behind his computer.

She spotted him and grinned, ruby lips twisting as her blue eyes lit up. After saying hello to a few of their coworkers, she was walking in his direction, hips swaying.

Rowan took a sip of his drink.

"Hey stranger," she said, grinning as she slid onto the stool next to him. He couldn't help but watch as she crossed her long, smooth legs. "How many do I have to drink to catch up?"

For a second, Rowan forgot how to think. Then, he said, "No idea. Ten? Maybe?" Even as the words came out, he felt his body sway.

Aelin chuckled. "You're gonna spend half your paycheck before you leave this place. It's ridiculous that they don't pay for an open bar. Seriously, they own our souls, the least they can do is get us drunk enough to enjoy ourselves at this thing."

Rowan grinned, taking another hearty sip. "But then we probably wouldn't get our Christmas bonus, and that's the only reason we all stick through the shit every year."

Aelin huffed a laugh. "Fair enough." She ordered a martini. "So, are you doing your usual? Staying for two hours so that the boss knows you've been here and socialized, then ducking out?"

Rowan thought on it for a moment. "Depends, I guess."

Aelin arched a brow. "On?"

"If I decide that there's a reason to stay any longer," he said, eyes drifting to hers. There was always a sense of mischief lingering in those eyes of hers. It drove him wild.

"I see," she crooned, just as her martini arrived. Her lipstick left its mark on the rim of the glass.

The two of them fell into a comfortable round of small talk. He asked about her day, she asked about his. Talking to Aelin was easy, it always had been, ever since Rowan decided that he no longer wanted her to shut up and leave him alone. It was effortless, their conversation, and five minutes quickly turned into ten, then twenty, then it had nearly been an hour since he had been sitting there, facing her.

"I hate this song," Aelin groaned, finishing off what was in her glass as Mariah Carey's All I Want For Christmas blasted through the speakers. "It haunts my nightmares."

Rowan hummed his agreement, sliding yet another empty glass to the other side of the bar. "We can go outside."

Aelin arched a brow. "It's snowing."

"Don't like being cold?"

"Does anyone?"

"I don't hate it as much as I hate this song."

Aelin chuckled. "Fine. Can you walk straight enough to make it to the sidewalk?"

Rowan nodded at her two empty glasses, even though she hadn't drank anywhere near what he had. "Can you?"

Aelin hopped off the bar stool and adjusted her skirt as she narrowed her eyes at him. "Come on."

The second Rowan's feet hit the ground, he was regretting every decision he had made that night. The room around him swayed and he had to grab onto the bartop to keep his footing. He was on the verge of cursing as a slim arm snaked around his waist.

"Come on," she said, perfectly amused. "Cold air will do you some good."

"I'm not that drunk," Rowan protested, tossing his arm around her shoulders.

"You didn't just hear how badly you slurred."

"I didn't slur."

"Oh, yes you did."

Rowan shook his head, but he knew she was right. Yet, he didn't care. Considering he and Aelin were walking out of the hotel with their arms around one another, Rowan didn't care about a thing.

As they stepped outside, snow was falling from the starlit sky in heaps. The flakes were so thick that he couldn't see to the other side of the street.

But he could see Aelin in perfect clarity.

"It feels good out here," Rowan muttered, closing his eyes. Aelin grunted as his full weight hit her. He hadn't realized that their arms were still around one another until he opened his eyes again and looked down to find Aelin already watching him. "I promise I'm not that drunk."

"Liar," she said, grinning. She leaned into him. "We've known each other for a while now."

"We have," Rowan agreed. "A few years."

Aelin nodded. "And, over those few years, we've flirted quite a bit."

A choking noise came out of Rowan. "Flirted?"

"Yeah, flirted."

"I guess we have," Rowan said, the world around him hazy and unsteady. "A few times, maybe."

"And yet you've never asked me out."

Rowan blinked, slow and drunkenly, as Aelin looked up at him curiously. "I've never asked you out?"

"Nope."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm pretty sure I would have remembered if you had."

"Do you want me to ask you out?"

Aelin's arm around his waist tightened. Her body was warm up against his. "I thought I've made that obvious."

"I've never been great at picking up hints," Rowan confessed.

"Obviously." Her laughter rose above the noises of the city street. Streetcars passed by quickly and people who were enjoying the city lights and Christmas decorations walked by, hand in hand, in awe.

"So, do you wanna-"

"No."

"No?"

"Don't ask me."

Rowan fumbled for his words. "I thought you wanted..."

"Not while you're drunk," she said, her lips twisted in the smallest of smiles. "Ask me when you're sober."

At some point, Aelin must have signaled for a taxi because one pulled up to the curb and she led him to the back door.

"Your two hours are up," she said, lightly, and opened the door before dropping her arm from his waist, at last. "Better go home and sleep it off."

Rowan plopped into the backseat of the taxi, nearly falling over in the process. "But-"

"I had fun tonight," she said, and even though he was drunk off his ass, Rowan knew that she meant it. It was because of that that he put on his seatbelt and let Aelin close the door.

He rolled down his window. "I'll call you when I'm sober?"

"I can't wait," she promised, just as the taxi pulled away from the curb and into traffic.

First thing in the morning, when his head is pounding and he's regretting every drink he had, he'd call.