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ruleofheart · 9 months ago

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growing pains — ellie williams

ellie williams x f reader

fluff, angst, smut >O<

ellie if nothing bad happened to her ever, childhood friends to acquaintances(?) to lovers, longing, joel is involved, ellie is a DWEEB! but so are you, car sex, classic misunderstandings

to the lovely folks that asked to be tagged, i hope this meets your expectations… i am terrified of failing you: @macaroni676 @d3sperationn @g3latin

beta read by @heartofrhea my best friend my apologies for being cringelord

The universe can be so cruel.

You sit at the edge of the curb, curling your legs to yourself to feel less vulnerable. Your phone rolls in your hand, tears of frustration prickling at your eyes. You probably should’ve known better. Well— you do know better. That sinking, intuitive feeling had been swirling in the center of your stomach all night, but you had let your desperation and loneliness take ahold of you.

You had agreed to go out with some friends and some friends of friends; people you didn’t know jackshit about, but hung out with anyway. You had hoped you didn’t reek of seclusion too bad, feeling like a wounded animal in a crowd of predators.

But your friends and their friends didn’t really care. They had pulled away from you in the club, losing you to flashing lights and crowded bodies. You searched up and down, called their names in the dingy bathrooms, and even asked the bartender. No dice; you were here to party alone. Now what was the point of even coming along?

Silly.

You initially opted to order an Uber to just get the fuck off the street already, but hey— it’s a Friday night and finals are over. The prices listed cost more than six different coffee runs, and there’s no way you’d be giving those up.

It’s how you end up sitting on the curb and fervently wiping your tears away, cringing when you remember your hands had been touching all the club door handles and god knows what else. You feel dirty, forgotten.

You unlock your phone and dim the brightness— the stupid thing almost all out of battery— and turn to what seems to be a last resort, an option that you’ve buried away at the back of your mind for years now.

Pressing your phone to your ear, you can’t help but sigh as the line rings repeatedly, almost positive that you’re completely out of luck.

It falls silent for a second before there’s faint rustling on the other side, and a voice so familiar, so painful to hear, questions you softly.

“Ellie,” you say breathlessly; from fatigue or relief, you’re not sure anymore. “Can you come get me?”

Becoming friends with Ellie Williams was almost too easy.

That’s just how she is as a person. So easy to be around; her voice and twinkling laugh showing no threat.

It began with Mrs. Sullivan’s freshman class seating chart; a table of four with you, Ellie, and two other boys who were too preoccupied with copying off each other’s notes half the time for you to even remember their names. You mostly kept to yourself as a weird adolescent, the onslaught of teenage hormones and emotions forcing you into your own little world.

Ellie, on the other hand, was different. She had noticed the front page cover of Savage Starlight slipped into the front sleeve of your binder, the edges frayed and jagged as if you had actually ripped it off. She was almost offended at the sight of such a careless pull, but found the emotion wavering once she realized you read the comics just like her.

“Hey! No way!” she had exclaimed with a growing smile, her eyes lit up. She had half a mind to just reach over and take your binder, fingers skimming over the glossy cover. She stopped herself mid-way, mind racing before she asked with just as much glee, “Can I see? I don’t think I’ve been able to get ahold of that edition yet.”

Your short-lived conversations about Savage Starlight began to transform into lunchroom giggle sessions and bike rides on the way home. She was so easy to fall into; it was almost like she had a part of herself that was reserved just for you, eager for your arrival.

The thing about your dynamic was that it was so intricately woven over time, each thread of yourself intertwining with her own as you came to know each other better. Unabashed adoration and excitement with every laugh, with every moment of eye contact across the classroom and dinner table at home: a twinkle of unwavering youth and closeness.

And the thing was, when it came to you, Ellie was not prideful at all. She would openly admit any given moment that there had to be a hole in her heart that was in the shape of you. The two of you fit so nicely in each other’s lives, slipping into a familiar rhythm that almost seemed karmic, even at such a young age. While you were surrounded by other girls your age navigating their own pent up emotions and typical coming-of-age realizations, turning against each other and whispering dirty secrets, Ellie only seemed to cling onto you— hanging onto your every word with sincerity and trust.

It didn’t take long before Ellie began to invite you over to sleepovers, which was new territory for both her and Joel. He was already a little awkward as-is, navigating life with a teenage girl who had the same foul mouth and temperament as he.

So when you came around, greeting him with little smiles and kind language, he couldn’t help but feel his heart sway in relief, happy that Ellie has someone like you in her life.

You’d tumble off your bikes, leaving them strewn across the front yard, crushing the grass he labored so hard over. But he didn’t mind, relieved to see the two of you arrive in one piece, losing yourself in video game releases and comic book pages as you both sat in her bedroom.

Joel became a sort of fly on the wall for you two, ever-present as you were fairly comfortable in their home. Tuning the both of you in and out, listening closely for anything that may alarm him (which, never happened). Sitting across the both of you at the dinner table, serving up a quick and easy bowl of Hamburger Helper to you two. He’d glance at the two of you from under his eyelashes, watching how either you or Ellie would lean into each other as you splayed out homework sheets on the table, muttering to each other in curiosity. The two of you may have been better off sharing a single chair, he’d think to himself in amusement.

Again, your presence in Ellie’s life and in his home never worried him. It became routine for him as well, watching the two of you bike up the block together almost every day after school.

One hot summer afternoon, he stood on the porch, prying off the entrance screen door in an attempt to replace it, the critters from the greenbelt nearby winning at their efforts to nibble away at the material.

From afar, he could hear the growing sound of your chattering, your bike chains clicking repeatedly as you breezed down the sidewalk. He glanced over his shoulder, watching as you two fought amicably, reaching out to each other in a playful attempt to push the other off their bike. He chuckled to himself and turned his gaze back to the screen door, fingers prying at the edges.

Behind him, Ellie reached a little too far to the side, fingers brushing against your arm before she toppled over sideways off her bike. She collapsed with a laugh-yelp, swearing at you in a way that made you burst out laughing, your shoes dragging across the concrete to stop your bike.

You hopped off your seat, carelessly letting it fall to the side as you approached Ellie, laughing at her as she pushed herself off the ground.

“You idiot,” you breathed out in between laughs, nearly folding in on yourself as the incident repeated in your mind.

“Dude!” she scolded lightheartedly, trying to feign annoyance, and of course failing. She stuck out her arm to show you a deep scrape right above her elbow. “This shit burns.”

You caught your breath and stepped closer, eyeing the scrape. It was rather gnarly, and you inwardly winced at yourself knowing it was probably going to scab horribly.

“Damn,” you muttered to yourself, holding her arm and twisting it to get a better look. Joel eyed the way you two interacted, pulling away from his task as he glimpsed the bloody splotch on Ellie’s elbow.

From where he was, he couldn’t exactly make out the words that you two exchanged, your voices lowered significantly. From the look of it, you were offering an apology. He didn’t catch the way you smiled up at her apologetically, but he was positive that his mind wasn’t playing tricks on him when you leaned in and placed a harmless, healing kiss onto her arm, right above the scrape.

It was, in reality, lighthearted and childish. A testament to your playfulness, your eagerness to please Ellie’s heart.

And although Ellie didn’t realize it, there was a flicker of emotion that crossed her face. A change in her eyes; in the way that she looked at you. It flew over your head, too; busy smiling up at her, pulling her closer with the strength of the sun’s gravity.

But Joel noticed. He caught this sudden change, this glimmer on Ellie’s face. He felt the complexities of youth and new emotion washing over him again, a short chuckle leaving his lips as he turned away, focusing back on fixing the screen door.

Later that night, he pulled Ellie aside.

“Hey, kid. I’m gonna need you to keep the door open when she’s around, alright?”

“What?” Ellie asked, utterly oblivious. A look of distaste flittered across her features.

He was trying to remain as nonchalant as possible, knowing all too well that if he pushed too hard or looked too stern, Ellie would just defy him out of her own stubborn nature. He folded some blankets over the couch, eyes avoiding hers. “Just keep it open, Ellie.”

She groaned in annoyance and threw her head back, hands falling to her sides. She looked truly exasperated, confused with this sudden change in house rules.

That night, as the door remained cracked open, Joel walked by Ellie’s bedroom to sort some towels in the hallway closet. His ears picked up her frustrated tone; “…wants me to leave the door open now. Never heard of a rule as stupid as that, but whatever.”

You giggled calmly, then fell silent for a second. “It’s okay. My mom has that rule too, for my brother and his girlfriend.”

And he could almost hear the way Ellie’s face scrunched up, a confused groan escaping her again. She failed to reply, and the topic at hand was dropped as soon as you leaned over to her and showed her a page from a new comic, rambling on about how the plot hole in this series was diabolical.

He silently walked away, mind wandering as he tried to think about how to approach this blooming situation, a flicker of both hope and protection illuminating in his chest.

It was junior year of high school when the foundation of your friendship began to split, allowing something else to slip into it. Something sneaky, deceitful, something that constantly rendered you speechless and warm.

You no longer rode your bikes or shared comic books; you were much too old for that now! Ellie had just gotten her license, a little too eager to drive Joel’s old beat up truck around with you in the passenger seat. And, of course, the both of you felt like true teenagers when you finally got phones.

You sat on Ellie’s bed, your knees pulled to your chest as you scrolled through your timeline. You giggled at random collages of pictures and videos, occasionally showing your screen to Ellie in hopes that she would laugh with you.

She sat on the other end of the bed, a rolled joint held delicately in her fingers. Joel wasn’t home, and her bedroom door was closed. The walls of her bedroom trapped the both of you with the smell of it, but you were slowly learning to not mind it as much.

When you first received a phone, you found yourself diving into social media, trying to keep up with this sudden boom of a new language, new jokes, new form of communication. Ellie, on the other hand, never touched her phone. If she was using it, it was probably because she was texting you. She refused to engage with any social media at all, meaning you had to sit and explain new jokes and trends to her. Sometimes, she’d try her hand at new lingo or an ongoing joke, but failed so miserably each time that you’d roll over her bedsheets in laughter.

She pressed the joint to her lips, eyes lazy as she looked at you with longing. The brightness from your screen illuminated your face, emphasizing every beauty mark and freckle.

“Hey,” she started, voice low. “C’mere.”

You looked up at her in curiosity, putting your phone down. Your eyes stayed trained on her as you scooted closer, the sides of your legs pressing against hers.

She wasn’t sure if it was the smoke or the way that you peered up at her that made the center of her body feel warm. She tilted her head away from you as she exhaled, the smoke clouding the space between you two; your heart thundered in your chest.

“Almost done,” she promised, voice only a little raspy. “Missed you; that thing is hoarding all your attention.” The corners of her mouth twitched.

“Is not!” you defended, shoving her shoulder with your own. “I’m right here.”

“Yeah,” she began, her hand coming up to tap at your head playfully. “But you’re not here. Let’s do something; been wanting to play a few rounds of that old zombie game.”

It was how you end up pressed into each other’s sides, hollering and giggling at the tiny TV screen on her bedroom dresser. You played erratically, your fingers relying on nonsensical button smashing to survive. Ellie had to constantly revive you every five minutes, but never mentioned it.

She missed the way you squealed in anticipation with every new round that started, your eyes wide as you spoke with a constant smile. And, maybe it was from her high, but she was a little too intent in the way that she watched you, her mind feeling far away as she memorized every crevice of your face from the side.

“Ellie!” you scolded, bringing her out of her daze. “No way you already died, the round just started!”

She turned her attention back to the screen, scoffing as her player screen was black and white, her character eye-level with the ground.

“Damn,” she muttered, surprised that she let herself slack off for so long. Too lost in your side profile, the dip of your lips, the way your lashes fluttered in surprise when a zombie attacked you in-game.

Your character raced towards her, shooting around sloppily before you pressed the buttons to revive her. Her hand found itself on the top of your thigh, right above your knee. Perhaps it was the fogginess of her mind, or a newfound boldness that spurts through her; but she squeezed at your leg, her eyes stuck on the screen. “Thanks,” she says a little too nonchalantly, like that was completely normal.

You swallowed thickly, your own movements faltering. There was a red ring forming around your player screen, indicating that you were being ruthlessly attacked.

She snickered, her voice playful. “Focus.”

The two of you kept on, your mind instead slipping up and focusing a little too hard on the way she touched you.

It was senior year when that particular, sneaky something begins to widen the cracks in your relationship. A feeling that blurred your vision, blurred your mind. A feeling that made it impossible to correctly decipher whatever it was that Ellie was going through, and the two of you began to fall apart.

It mostly started when Ellie got a job at a skate shop. For the most part, it was relaxed, her days consisting of seeing the same people come and go for wheels and decks. But it meant that she had less time to spend with you.

Initially, she would use every single day off to see you. To invite you over or to laze around on your fluffy duvet, listening to you ramble about your nervousness as graduation was approaching. She would take you out, spoil you rotten with the excitement of her new paychecks, saying fuck all to saving any money.

And in reality, you didn’t care about the way she spoiled you; granted, it was nice and certainly made your heart beat a certain way, but you mostly valued that she made the effort to see you still. Exchanging silent words and looks across the classroom was no longer sufficing your yearning heart.

Months passed and Ellie started to become a little bit more focused on balancing school and work; she was set on saving as college approaches, and you figured that the prospect of growing up had changed her. She was set on a college, set on astrophysics, set on buying Joel some land and maybe, hopefully, spoiling you some more in a few years down the line…

But she was maybe a little too caught up in it. She saw you less and less, accidentally channeling her friendly energy to her coworkers. And while you knew there was nothing wrong with that, you couldn’t help the bitter taste that rested on your tongue when she constantly brought up the names of others that you’d heard of countless times. A part of you wanted to turn to her, ask her so pathetically, why can’t you do the same with me?

You started to really feel like you were losing her when you finally got the chance to sit in her room again, the both of you babbling about what you think college will look like. At first, the comfort of her poster-covered walls and space trinkets settled your restless heart, and you had felt at home with her again.

It wasn’t until she slipped away to use the restroom, leaving her phone on her bed. The screen illuminated as it buzzed once, twice— three times. You should’ve left it alone, thinking maybe it was Joel warning her he’d be late from work. But you leaned over anyway, reading over the text on the screen.

For one, it was a coworker. You recognized the name on the notification; and for some reason, when you realized it was from the only other girl at her workplace, a horrible feeling nestled into your stomach.

And then you couldn’t help the minor feeling of betrayal as you realized they had been messaging each other on a social media platform; one of the many things Ellie swore up and down that she’d stay away from.

You didn’t even follow her on there. She never told you.

It’s silly, you thought. Ellie can do whatever she pleased. But this new turn of events, this tiny thing that was still so out of character; the foundation between you two felt almost completely severed.

Weeks passed from that day and you them found yourself pulling away. The both of you were accepted into the same college, but you couldn’t even find it in yourself to feel excited. Ellie begged you to fill out your housing papers on time so that the two of you could be roommates, but you purposefully procrastinated. You weren’t sure you could handle such close proximity with her anymore.

It was with this that the gap between the both of you widened. She didn’t drive you home anymore; it was time to put your own license to use. You two no longer exchanged knowing looks across the room, and you sure as hell didn’t share dinner with Joel anymore, either. You started to forget the exact layout of her bedroom.

Graduation came and went; you spent it in solitude, not really counting the presence of your family members. Ellie did race up to you and gave you a bone crushing hug, nose burying into your hair, but you were so caught up in it all that you didn’t reciprocate it.

It was another one of those minor things that widened the gap, made her step away from you both physically and emotionally.

Even when Joel offhandedly mentioned that he’d be okay with helping you move into your dorm, Ellie made up some excuse on the fly; saying your brother had it covered. She hadn’t even asked you.

So, just like that, summer passed in a blink. You spent your days curled up in your bed, wallowing. Ellie spent it trying to distract herself, losing herself in the presence of coworkers-turned-close-friends. You shamefully stalked her social media, tears pricking at your eyes as she posted places and things that seem so fun, so far away. Places and things that you would’ve liked.

What hurt more was the constant questioning from your family. Where’s Ellie? What’s she up to?

Hell if you knew. You’d been relying on her story highlights for snippets of her life, and even then they were still so vague. Scenery, music, her guitar. Someone else’s hands holding a deck of cards, videos with incessant giggling in the background. God, you were almost sickly with both wanting and loneliness.

And, just like that, it was freshman year again. This time, there was no seating chart. No binder for you to slip comic book covers into. No comfort of hopping on your bike and riding home with the only person that matters at your side.

You were in some sort of emotional purgatory. Your mind blank as you walked around campus, as you stared at your laptop screen in the dead of night, body aching as you slumped over and completed your coursework. The excitement and late nights that you and Ellie had planned were nowhere to be found.

On the other hand, Ellie busied herself so much, she found that she almost forgot you. Almost.

Burying herself into her homework, mind trying its hardest to wrap around these new concepts. Partying, though she wasn’t not really there. Smoking some, drinking some. It all still felt lonely.

She was enjoying this new group of friends, but they didn’t amount to the certain someone that still had their shape, their initials carved into the center of her heart. It was almost unbearable to exist without you; the two of you blending into each other so well, she still found herself saying things the way you did— the intonation, the little lingo, the mannerisms. Your existence was embedded into her own, folding over into her psyche so compact-tight, she knew she could never escape you.

Ellie assumed that now, at this point, it was about carrying you in her soul even though you were no longer around. The beauty of this life; she’d lost you, but not entirely. Your personality reflecting in her own no matter what, no matter how hard she tried. Her existence was a testament to your own— someone’s been here. Someone’s loved me.

Weeks passed. Months passed. The both of you constantly shuffling across the same campus, yet never running into each other. Your text messages now buried underneath more recent threads, your shared playlist long forgotten and neglected.

Winter break hit and the loneliness bit just as much as the cold. When Ellie returned home, she noticed her old bike in the garage, propped up against storage bins, the tires flat. When you returned home, you came back to photos of the both of you, pinned to your wall. Your breath stuttered in your throat as you took them down, throwing them into a box in your closet.

At the same time, yet separately, the both of you traversed new grounds, and odd fucked up forms of grief. Being in your own space yet running into things that reminded you of someone that you wanted the most. And it wasn’t not like they were gone; yet the both of you let go, deciding that somehow, it was for the better.

The cycle repeated as the seasons changed. Instead of actually moving on, the both of you just somehow got better at repressing your emotions and acting like nothing happened. Occasionally reflecting on your friendship in a daydream, and then reminding yourself that somehow, it just wasn’t meant to be. It was time to move on— she was never yours.

It’s summer now, the end of junior year. Ellie’s at her friend’s place, sipping on a poorly made drink as they play card games and tune into a new season of a trending series. She’s cross-legged on the floor, smiling to herself as her friends talk over each other, slamming the cards down on the coffee table and trying to warp the rules in their own favor. It’s fun, and it’s easy to sit back and watch everything unfold.

She feels her phone in her back pocket vibrating; assuming it’s Joel just checking up on her, she gets up and excuses herself, slipping out the back porch door.

When she reaches for her phone, her heart nearly stops beating altogether. In fact, she’s sure it does, as her stomach suddenly twists in confusion and pain, a small cough leaving her lips as she tries to collect herself. Your name shines on her screen as you call, and she’s so sure she’s hallucinating (the hell was in that drink?) until she swallows her surprise and answers.

And there you are. Breathless, exhausted. Immediately, she knows. Despite it being so long, despite the fact that she’s not entirely sure she knows you anymore, she still recognizes the tone in your voice, recognizes that you needed her.

“Where are you?” she blurts before you can finish your sentence, her body automatically pacing around. “Send me the address.”

You’re apologetic, sounding defeated on the other side. You tell her over and over again, I’m sorry.

There’s weight behind the way you say it, like you’re apologizing for something more. Like you’re counting all those times you shut her out, the times you let her slip through your fingers. It’s weak and shaky, but Ellie doesn’t bring it up. She’s too busy slipping on her shoes, keys dangling from her fingers as she mouths to her friends that she’ll see them later.

She stays with you on the phone the entire time she drives over to get you. She asks, over and over again, if you’re okay and in a safe area, and your heart twists with guilt and shame. You stay planted on the edge of the curb, looking like a wilted flower.

Ellie feels her heart drop to her stomach as she approaches the street that you sit on, her headlights illuminating your pathetic figure. She rolls down the window and pulls over, calling out to you.

Your eyes are low, the shame blatantly evident on your face. Ellie’s not sure how this will unfold; this isn’t exactly the way she dreamed the two of you would reunite. But that look on your face— Ellie knows it well enough. You’re both 15 again, and you’re trying to hide within your own body somehow. She sees the embarrassment, the bitter feeling that sits at the center of your chest.

You approach her car and observe at her through the window, eyes avoiding her own. You study her form, how much she’s grown. She’s got a new haircut; it’s shorter— gayer. You can almost imagine yourself laughing at her, can almost imagine twirling the short pieces between your fingers. A patch of black ink catches your eye just then, your gaze landing on her forearm. Since when did she get a tattoo?

She unlocks the door, silently beckoning you in. You slump into the passenger seat, completely defeated, and she reads your body language well enough to know not to pry at the situation.

She shifts the car into drive but realizes that she doesn’t even know where you live anymore. The car sits there, idle as she tries to figure out what to ask you and how, then you mutter the directions to your apartment, reading her confusion just as well.

The sound of Ellie’s music is quiet, practically just a gentle hum as the two of you sit, rigid as you keep your gazes locked on the road ahead. You don’t intend to explain yourself or have some sort of emotional come-to-jesus moment with Ellie, figuring that this situation alone is already stressful enough.

But, she clears her throat and opens her mouth to speak, eyes still locked on the street signs. “You see the trailer for the new Savage Starlight adaptation?”

You give her an awkward chuckle. “Yeah,” you say, nearly whispering. “Looked like trash, honestly.”

Ellie laughs at that. Laughs. And god, it’s not the kind of laugh that kills her, but it’s a solid one; an honest one. It sounds so good as it erupts from her chest, the sound of it pouring into your ears and over your heart. Christ.

Your eyebrow twitches and you have to turn your head to look out the window— you can’t let her see the look on your face. You’re sure your eyes are wide and pooling with some sort of desperation.

And, of course, Ellie catches it. But she just cares too much about you, so she lets all these little thing slip by to keep you comfortable, to keep you with her for even just a second longer.

The conversation stays trained on little comments, acknowledging new video game releases and comic book trailers as if the both of you are in high school again, caught up in your nerdy obsessions. The air is thick and steady; the both of you dancing around this thinly-veiled attempt to be normal. The smallest things, such as the sound of her clearing her throat, or her hand coming up to scratch at her cheek, make your skin crawl with anticipation.

You brace yourself for the ball to drop, holding it so tight to your chest, you’re almost suffocating.

And while there’s no way you’ll drop this act, desperately clutching onto this feeling of faux normalcy, you know Ellie will. She’s much too blunt and forward focused to let you both sit in this awkward, paper-doll like scenario; steadily crafting your sentences, training your eyes to avoid her.

And, god— it’s almost too easy to let your body relax, to slip back into your old comfortable patterns with Ellie right next to you. Because she’s never been prideful, and never will be, with the way she smiles to herself and breathes: “I missed you. It’s been… really long,” she says the last part with a bittersweet chuckle. “Too long.”

Your chest caves. Stupidly, eagerly, almost like it wanted to, this whole time. Your body feels prickly and warm, but you school your face to remain somewhat neutral.

“Yeah,” you offer dryly. “I’m kind of surprised, actually.”

At that, Ellie tilts her head, fingers fluttering around the steering wheel. “How come?”

“That, like, you even showed up. And you’re actually being nice and taking me home. I figured you kinda hated my guts towards the end.”

Ellie’s body has a physical reaction to that, and she taps on the brakes by accident. Not hard enough to send the both of you flying forward, but just enough of a push. You whip your head towards her, watching the way she furrows her eyebrows and shakes her head.

“Sorry. Not trying to be defensive, but why…” She swallows thickly. “Why would you think that? And of me, of all people?”

She’s so, so gentle with the way she says it. Her voice quiet and low, not wanting to scare you away with this sudden confrontation. She reeks of true curiosity and something else that seems like hurt.

“I just,” you start, trying to gather your words, then pause, not really recognizing where Ellie is driving. “Hold on. Where are you—?”

She pulls into an empty parking lot, stopping the car at an awkward angle, careless about her parking etiquette.

“I’m sorry. I really just wanna clarify things,” she breathes out, her tone hurried as if you’ll slip and fade away if she doesn’t explain herself fast enough. “But, if you want me to completely fuck off, I’ll take you home. Just tell me.”

You remain quiet, looking at her with a face that reads half anxious, half eager. A mix of the two, both emotions so similar in nature that maybe it kind of looks like… excitement.

Ellie turns her body in her seat so that she can face you directly. “I was never tired of you, ever.” She takes in a slow, deep breath, trying to pace herself and keep her voice steady. With you, she can become passionate very quickly, so she needs to remain cool. “If anything, I thought that you felt that way about me. You stopped comin’ around, didn’t even try to room with me, and completely bailed on my attempts to see you. Did I do something?”

She’s completely disarmed. Her words woven with nothing but good intentions, the look on her face desperate for some sort of reconciliation. She eyes you carefully, and if you looked hard enough, you may have been able to catch the glimmer of want in her eyes.

Overcome with emotion, you fumble. Too busy with wanting to just defend yourself, swinging around your sword with your eyes shut in the hopes that you won’t get hurt, you don’t even try to match her energy.

“Well, yeah,” you bite back, not nearly as careful as she was. “You changed. Everything changed. You made other friends, new friends, and just left me behind,” you accuse sharply, not thinking straight. “You… went behind my back.”

Despite the way that you speak to her, Ellie’s face softens. She knows what this is about. She’s too understanding, too willing to do anything to get you back in her life. As the realization slowly dawns on her, her heart flutters both with yearning and a deeper need.

It’s how you end up pressed against the backseat of her car, her mouth on yours as her hands roam freely around your body. You shut up rather quickly, mind blurring over with the oncoming release of years of pent-up wanting. You tried to keep arguing back at her, and she did nothing but talk to you in that sweet tone, with eyes that scream I love you.

It isn’t that she’s trying to coax you, or anything. It just happened as you begin to increasingly realize that she is not going to fight you; she just wants you. She needs you to know that, she has to make herself clear.

Fog creeps up the car windows as she presses her knee in between your legs, rocking against you slowly.

Ellie’s pacing herself; she’s thought about this a few times, guiltily. But in her mind, it’s always been in her bed, her mind crafting the scene of your body, your little sounds. It was like she had to slap her own hand away from herself sometimes.

So while this isn’t exactly what she had daydreamed it would be, she still wouldn’t complain. Regardless of the situation, you were pressed into her, panting and sighing in ways that made her mind turn to soppy mush, overrun with desire and emotion.

And, while she’s set on taking care of you and showing you just how much you meant and still mean to her, she can’t help but want to make you admit it too.

She pulls back from kissing you, her eyes glazed over as she looks at your face. Holy shit.

Skin so warm, and you already look spent. She swallows, suddenly doubting how long she’ll be able to hold off.

She bites back a satisfied smile before she dips down again, her face hidden in the crevice between your neck and shoulder, kissing all the way down.

“Take this off,” she murmurs, fingers pulling at the waistband of your skirt. You do your best to follow her orders, cramped up in the seat, pulling your knees towards yourself in an attempt to shimmy out of the fabric. It catches on your ankle, hanging, and you giggle at the state of the situation. Ellie’s heart melts over itself, beating erratically; she’s going fucking crazy.

You’ve done nothing but moan, twitch, laugh, and flutter your lashes. She hasn’t even felt you yet, hasn’t even seen your body in its entirety. And she’s gone.

She almost raises an eyebrow at the sight of your skimpy little underwear, but her question catches in her throat. You were at the club, after all. Something sinks in her stomach at the thought of anyone else seeing you like this, observing the way the fabric clings onto you.

Her fingers massage at your inner thighs, her knee firm in place as she keeps them set apart. Her digits dance right against your core, pressing against the fabric. You twitch, rolling your hips into her, fingers catching on the seatbelt behind you, gripping on for life. She laughs, but not necessarily at you.

It feels like it takes her years (well, technically) to push your panties to the side, eyes falling hazy as she stares right into you. You’re so vulnerable, you try shutting your thighs close, but she pushes them apart again.

“I know,” she hushes you, dipping lower to nip at your lips. “I know.”

Her fingers trace over your folds, and you think you’re about to explode. You hadn’t expected Ellie to be the type to make this agonizing and painful, but you know you probably deserve it after your showcase of attitude.

She draws her hand back and brings her fingers up to her mouth, sucking on them nonchalantly. A satisfied sigh escapes her as she finally, finally gets to taste you on her tongue. She lets her hand travel back down, and you turn your head to the side, shutting your eyes in anticipation.

“Look at me,” she commands softly, stopping her fingers right where you want her.

You nod, giving her the false promise that you will. Ellie sees right through it, and with her free hand she gently grips onto your face, turning you to make eye contact with her.

She needed to see your face as she fucked you, she needed to know, after so long of wondering, how you looked when facing pure pleasure.

Your lashes flutter, eyebrows screwing together as she slips her fingers inside your warmth, pressing the heel of her palm against your clit. She’s gentle in the way she stretches you out, working you through it with such care and patience.

Ellie revels in the way your chest heaves already, pupils blown out with bliss. She moves her knee and lets you shut your thighs together, trapping her hand in place.

“This is all you needed, huh?” she teases, her voice only a little prickly, but her smile says otherwise. “For me to touch you like this.”

You nod silently, too busy biting on your bottom lip and rocking your body onto her fingers to reply.

“Answer me,” she demands with the same softness, setting the tone. Her gaze is locked onto your face, memorizing every twitch of your brow, every whine that leaves your lips.

It’s almost ridiculous how brainless you are already, melting beneath her entirely.

“Needed you,” you manage to breathe out, nodding your head again. “So bad.”

Ellie hisses a swear, and she can’t help the way she leans into you, pressing her body against yours. She curls her fingers inside of you, the palm of her hand nudging at your eager bud. She groans to herself as she feels your walls twitch around her digits, her head dropping low as if she has to stop herself from spiraling. She’s hanging on by a thread; a hair, wanting nothing more than to fuck you senseless. But it’s been too long, and she’s got something to prove to you.

Her eyes shine as she feels your body grow tense, your wriggling becoming more constant. She slows down her pace, watching closely as your mouth drops, a pout playing at your lips.

“Please,” you begin, and she smiles.

“Please what?”

“Please, fucking just,” you try grinding on her fingers, lashes fluttering. “Oh my god,” you sigh, that little attitude trickling in your tone.

She scoffs, almost meanly. She stops her movements entirely, fingers falling slack in your pussy. “Yeah? Do it yourself, then.”

And to her surprise, you do. That attitude is wiped clean from your voice as you whimper pathetically, body rolling, walls fluttering as you try to fuck yourself with her fingers. She stares at you in awe, throat running dry.

It takes her a second, but she blinks and she’s falling back into you. Watching as you desperately chase your release, bumping your clit onto her hand, and you absentmindedly grab onto her arm, trying to anchor yourself.

She sucks her teeth and sighs to herself. She had intended to drag this out, to make you beg, to make you say that you were hers all along. But with the way you hold onto her, shamelessly rutting your hips, her name falling off your lips like a prayer— she already knows it’s all true.

She’s kind enough to start thrusting her fingers again, moaning at the way your slick bundles at your entrance, coating her fingers and slipping down her hand. It’s obscene, but she doesn’t care. In fact, it gives her more of a reason to clean you up afterward.

“Ellie,” you breathe suddenly, your little prayers becoming less coherent as a certain feeling creeps around, engulfing your body and mind. “I’m gonna cum,” you whine shamelessly, the heat in your stomach spreading lower and lower, your body tingling.

She leans over you again, watching over your face as your eyes slip shut.

“Go ahead, baby. Let me hear you.”

It’s a demand but she still says it so softly, a certain tenderness behind her words. You choke on your own moan, body practically seizing as your thighs tighten, fingers digging into her arm. You chant a repeated I can’t, I can’t, I can’t, and Ellie smiles as you do anyway, your cunt swallowing her fingers with your release.

Her hand relentlessly slaps against your core, even though you begin to tear up and beg for her to stop. She smiles to herself before she slowly drags her fingers out of you, bringing them back up into her mouth.

It’s not nearly enough. While you slump back into the seat, panting, body still shaky from such strong sensations, she’s busy maneuvering her body to sit on the floor of the car and propping your legs onto her shoulders.

You blink as you slowly come back to reality, your mind hazy.

“Ellie,” you start softly, reaching out your hand.

She reaches up and intertwines your fingers, eyes locked on your dripping cunt as her voice carries over to your ears. “I’m right here. Can’t let it go to waste.”

Your eyes roll back, another string of moans escaping you as Ellie shuts her eyes and latches onto your clit, moaning into your pussy.

The hours of the night escape both of you, becoming lost in each other in the back of her car, cementing your fate.

Ellie laughs at your blank expression, her hand rubbing down her face in disbelief.

“That was so… garbage. Beyond garbage. Landfill levels of trash,” you say weakly, the soft lights of the movie theater reflecting off your face.

She continues giggling at your side, hand over her mouth in an attempt to be quiet despite the fact that the movie is already over.

You playfully swat at her arm, turning to her, face ridden with shock. “There’s no way you’re not disappointed! This shit was such a waste of money. We were better off pirating it.”

She shakes her head and smiles to herself, hand wrapping around your own as she pulls you to stand up with her. “I think it was well worth it; it was, like, funny bad.”

You stand, wrapping your arm around her own as you two trail down the steps of the theater. You continue picking the movie apart, disdain in your voice. You have a reason to be passionate; this lazy attempt at turning Savage Starlight into a box office success had taken a terrible turn, the movie filled with stupid one-liners and god awful acting.

You should’ve known; it’s been a month since the trailer dropped— or, since you and Ellie came back together. A month of everything falling into place, the pieces of your individual lives slipping back into the way they used to be. A month of constant, whispered confessions, making up for lost time; lovelorn kisses, touches fueled by years of yearning. Pursuing your lives together again, and of course, falling back into your geeky little habits— the one thing that brought you together in the first place, anyway.

You shouldn’t have walked in with such high expectations after the both of you predicted how awful it was gonna be once you both sat down to rewatch the trailers together.

As the two of you make it outside of the building, Ellie bites her cheek at the way you continue to ramble, the passion in your voice making her heart swell. There is just too much to adore about you.

“Hey,” she starts, voice low.

You raise your eyebrows. “What?”

Ellie nods her chin in the direction of her car, mischief written all over her face. “I know a way to give you a happy ending.”

You groan in annoyance, pushing her away. Your voice rings out and into her ears, settling her restless heart as you scold her, a smile showing through.

“Ellie!”

#ellie fluff #ellie williams x reader #ellie x reader #ellie smut #ellie williams smut #tlou x reader #ellie angst #ellie williams angst

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anto-pops · 5 months ago

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The Mirror's Heartfelt Reflection - Sylus x Female!Reader

Summary: In the wake of helping Sylus deal with a few Wanderers terrorizing the N109 Zone, you find yourself neck deep in self-loathing. It isn’t his fault you’re insecure about your lackluster abilities, and it definitely isn’t his fault that you’re so hard on yourself. But he still takes it upon himself to prove just how incredible you really are, and when all is said and done, you find yourself forced to accept that maybe- just maybe- he's telling the truth.

Alternatively summarized as Sylus reverently worshiping you in front of a mirror with his fingers, then with his mouth, then with his... y'know...

Word Count: 15k

Warnings: 18+, explicit sexual content, self-esteem issues, body worship in front of a mirror, size difference, overstimulation

Full fic is now up on Ao3 here (with more diverse tags, as per usual)

It almost seemed cliche for the N109 Zone’s weather to always be dreary, but evidently rain, fog, and more rain was the norm for the danger riddled region. The steady pattering of water hitting the ground was all you could hear as you trudged through puddles towards Sylus’ house in the no-hunt zone, your fists clenched at your side as you did your best to will away your indignant anger. The crime lord of Onychinus was somewhere behind you, likely still bleeding from using himself as a human shield on your behalf, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care at present.

After all, it had been his great idea to step in front of the Deluge Wyrmlord earlier.

Sure, Sylus might be hard to kill. He might even be immortal, but that didn’t mean he was immune to pain. Yet for some unfathomable reason, he had opted to take the tail swipe the Wrymlord had aimed at you, leaving you to watch on in horror as his shirt was torn to shreds and an array of lesions and bruises alike blossomed across his chest. He had taken the hit without so much as a grimace, much to his credit, but you had fought the remainder of the fight riddled with frustration and fury.

In short, you were pissed.

The gargantuan mansion swam into sight through the unrelenting downpour, and you doubled your pace at the same time you heard Sylus’ even footsteps getting closer to you. You didn’t want to talk to him– you didn’t want to talk to anyone. The emotions that gnawed at your stomach were borne of insecurities that you didn’t want to face right now, and with that somber thought in mind, your main priority was taking a hot shower to fend off a potential cold from taking root.

With more force than was probably necessary, you shouldered the front doors of the house open, not bothering to look behind you when you heard the massive slabs of wood slam against the wall and groan on their hinges. Something moved in the sitting room to your left, and you saw Luke and Kieran jump up into defensive stances before relaxing slightly at the sight of you.

“Jeez, what’s going on?” Kieran asked incredulously, his hands hovering inches away from his hip where you knew his weapon was hidden. “Where’s Boss?”

On cue, Sylus crossed the threshold of the doorway, made evident by the way the twins looked behind you in unison. Luke spoke up this time, his tone laced with obvious concern as well as surprise. “Holy… what happened? Where’s the Wanderer?”

“Dead,” Sylus stated nonchalantly. You stopped in your tracks, halfway to the hallway leading towards the guest room, and turned to finally gauge the source of your irritation.

He was covered in blood, but the deep gashes you’d seen on him earlier had long since been healed by his Evol. You couldn’t see any bruises beneath the frayed tethers of his shirt– just dirt that streaked down his skin due to the rain. His hair was dripping water onto his shoulders and down his cheeks, but aside from all the superficial damage, Sylus was well and truly fine.

That only served to anger you further.

The silver haired man turned his ruby red eyes on you, his scrutinizing gaze laced with curiosity as he silently tried to figure out what had led to you storming away from him in the wake of defeating the Wanderer. You pursed your lips and jerked your chin up in a stubborn act of defiance, keeping your expression icy as you met his unwavering stare.

“Did something else happen out there?” Luke asked cautiously, joining his twin and his boss in staring at you from across the room. The airy laugh that slipped from Sylus was devoid of any humor, and he shook his head in disbelief as he traced his fingers over the massive tear in his button up.

“Aside from the Wanderer trying to use its tail as a battering ram, no. Although one might think Miss Hunter over there wanted to have her ribs caved in, what with how much hissing she did after the fact.”

Your blood thrummed in your ears as you began to shake with obvious rage. “I was not hissing. You were completely careless jumping in front of me like that. You’re always doing those sorts of things– why?”

“Because I can handle it, sweetie.” His matter-of-fact tone did little to quell your vexation, and the way Luke and Kieran both seemed to look away in embarrassment didn’t help matters, either. Having this discussion in front of them was the absolute last thing you wanted to do. Besides, it wasn’t their fault you were angry. If you were being honest, it wasn’t even Sylus’ fault that you were so upset either.

No, the person you were the most disappointed with was yourself.

You threw your hands in the air, exasperated with the situation as a whole, and turned around to continue on to your assigned bedroom. “Fine, whatever. Keep using yourself as canon fodder, see if I care.”

“Where are you going?” Sylus called after you, sounding more tired than he had moments prior. “There’s still two more Wanderers near the eastern border that need killing, kitten.”

“I’m going to shower,” you retorted sharply.

“A little rain and you want to call it quits? I thought you agreed to help me with this–”

Almost to your room, you shouted down the hall, “The Wanderers will still be there when the rain stops. Go change your shirt or something while you wait and leave me alone.”

The resounding slam of the guest room door echoing down the corridor spelled the end of the conversation. You didn’t stop to listen through the walls to see what else Sylus and the twins were discussing, instead heading straight for the bathroom and cranking the shower knob to the highest setting. The cold, soggy clothes that stuck to your skin were peeled away swiftly and left on the floor before you stepped under the scalding water to begin scrubbing, your own mind tormenting you all the while.

The loudest thoughts that seemed to reiterate themselves over and over again were the ones that had been hounding you for as long as you could remember.

You’re a liability. You’re weak. You’ll always need protection.

Even the rush of water cascading down your head couldn’t drown them out.

—

“Again.”

Although Kieran had his mask on, you could practically see the disbelief on his face through his posture alone. His shoulders sagged, and the kickboxing pad he had clutched in his white knuckled grip dropped to the floor in exasperation. “We’ve been at it for hours. How many more times do you plan on doing this? My arm is going to fall off pretty soon.”

“Again,” you repeated sternly as you wiggled your fingers, the dull ache in your knuckles barely noticeable through the wraps that protected your fists. “If you want to take a break, give the pad to Luke.”

The twin in question immediately swiveled away from the weapon stand in the corner, raising his hands in front of himself as though to ward you away from him. “No way,” he said tightly. “You already missed the pad and kicked me in the ribs twice. I’m done being your sparring dummy.”

Kieran threw his free arm up before letting himself fall backwards onto the floor of the sparring ring. The other arm he still had looped through the back of the boxing pad fell beside him with a heavy thud, and you sighed with obvious frustration as you stood straight and planted your hands on your hips. Sweat dripped down your temples and soaked through the loose workout clothes you had on, but you hardly paid it any mind as you glanced around the room for an inanimate object to use for training. Evidently the twins were a lost cause, and you didn’t feel like tracking Sylus down to ask him to practice with you.

In truth, you were kind of avoiding him.

After your outburst earlier in the morning, he had disappeared from the house entirely. You’d emerged from the guest room freshly showered and ready to head back out to finish dealing with the Wanderers, but upon entering the living room, you had found only Luke and Kieran. They had been annoyingly tight lipped about where their boss had run off to, but had assured you that he would be back in a few hours. Four hours had passed since then, and since you hadn’t particularly felt like trudging through the rain in search of him, you’d decided to make use of the twin terrors and work on your hand-to-hand in a bid to feel less… useless.

You hated that you even thought of yourself in such a way, but it was a hard habit to break. Your Evol couldn’t serve you by itself in a fight, and unless you were fighting alongside someone with an offensive Evol of their own, all you had was your martial training. Anytime Sylus or any of your other companions accompanied you on your hunts, all you could do was resonate with them to empower… well, them. You felt like a glorified battery half the time– charging them up while you stood in the backline with your measly pistols.

You knew it was unreasonable to feel that way. You knew you could stand on your own two feet and be a threat on the battlefield regardless of your Evol. Hell, you had been selected to join the Hunter’s Association Alpha Team immediately after graduating. That had to count for something.

And yet, it wasn’t enough.

Another agitated sigh slipped through your teeth as your fingers flexed of their own accord. Kieran was still an unmoving lump on the floor, and Luke warily went back to polishing the collection of blades propped up on the weapon stand. Neither one of them could be persuaded– you were already acutely aware of their stubbornness– so you fixed your eyes on the punching bag strung up from the rafters. It wasn’t sentient, and it couldn’t hit back, but it was as good a target as any for your internal turmoil.

Just as you were about to duck through the ropes that surrounded the sparring ring, Sylus’ gravelly voice drifted through the dimly lit workout room, halting you in your tracks and drawing the immediate attention of the twins. “Don’t tell me you broke my henchmen,” he teased, his crimson eyes taking in the sight of Kieran sprawled across the floor with blatant amusement. “I know you’re supposed to do your reps until failure, but he looks half dead already.”

“He’s lazy,” you muttered as Kieran threw aside the kickboxing pad, pushing himself to his feet as quick as his shaky limbs would allow. “They both are. Like fat house cats, content to nap all day.”

“Excuse me?” Luke chimed in, his hands perching on his hips indignantly. “Say that to my bruised ribs, you tyrant. Why don’t you take your vendetta out on someone who can actually keep up.”

His pale finger pointed straight at Sylus, who was still leaning leisurely against the doorframe with his hands in his pockets. He looked remarkably better than he had when you’d last seen him; no cuts or blood, no bruises, and no torn clothing. His simple black button up was tucked into matching black trousers, and his hair was once again effortlessly styled without a strand out of place. He looked more inclined to attend a business meeting rather than spar with you, but despite that fact, Sylus surprised you by shrugging and striding towards you, already rolling the cuffs of his sleeves up to his elbows.

“You don’t have to,” you started to say, jerking your thumb over your shoulder towards the punching bag you’d decided on using. “I was going to make use of the other equipment–”

“Living targets make for much better practice, and I can promise you that I won’t tap out like a… what was the term? A fat house cat?”

Luke and Kieran both scoffed and shook their heads simultaneously, mirroring one another so perfectly that it unnerved you. Kieran swung his legs over the nylon ropes of the ring and landed next to Luke, the two falling into step easily before heading for the door without another word to you or their boss. A tiny, barely there part of you wanted for them to stay to eliminate any awkwardness between you and your newfound partner, but the unspoken challenge in Sylus’ eyes quelled the words before you could utter them.

The silver haired man hoisted himself up over the ropes effortlessly, bending down to snatch up the abandoned kicking pad from the floor before tossing it haphazardly over the edge of the ring. He waited until Luke and Kieran’s footsteps had disappeared completely from within the hallway before he spoke. “Think you can walk and talk, kitten?”

Narrowing your eyes at him, you messed with the wraps on your fists before assuming your usual fighting stance. Shuffling your feet apart, you tested your balance as you murmured, “Why do we have to talk? There’s nothing to say.”

A hint of a smirk pulled at the corners of Sylus’ mouth as he copied your movements, distancing his feet a healthy distance apart and dipping his chin below his raised fists. “I beg to differ. We could talk about your little temper tantrum earlier, or about how you’re being uncharacteristically snappy with Luke and Kieran. We could even talk about the weather if you’d like– it stopped raining, by the way.”

You said nothing, instead grinding your molars together hard enough that your jaw ached. With Sylus too busy talking, you seized your opportunity and swung your leg out in a wide arc, narrowly missing his head when he smoothly dodged the blow with a wicked grin etched across his face.

“I see, I see…” he taunted, glancing down obviously enough that you knew he was going to try sweeping your feet out from under you. Sure enough, Sylus dropped into a feline crouch, throwing his leg out as he pivoted himself around on his other foot in a dangerously fast circle. You jumped backwards– avoiding his outstretched limb completely– then dove back in for an immediate counter-attack. He was already standing when your fist connected with his palm, his massive fingers curling over your pathetically small hand as he threw you to the side painlessly, chuckling to himself all the while. Your blood thrummed in your ears, humiliation burning your cheeks from how easily he fended you off. Condescendingly, Sylus mused, “This is all because I jumped in front of you earlier, isn’t it?”

“Stop talking,” came your disgruntled reply. Desperate to have one of your hits connect, you feinted left before darting back to the right, throwing out a jab-punch combo that grazed his neck at best and missed entirely at worst.

After humorlessly avoiding your attacks, Sylus began moving, drinking in the sight of you panting and flushed in the middle of the ring. He circled you like a predator corralling its prey, and through the flurry of emotions that wracked you, mortification seemed to be the most prominent.

“Am I to understand,” he started gruffly, “that you wanted the Wanderer to kill you?”

“Of course not–”

“Because that’s exactly what would have happened had I not stepped in. You’re upset because I saved you from an agonizing, bone-breaking end, and I have to be honest, kitten, it makes absolutely no sense to me.”

“That’s not why I’m angry,” you barked at him, wanting nothing more than to lash out with your fists again. Even if the hits didn’t meet their mark, you needed to expel the humiliation that coursed through your veins.

Suddenly, Sylus was in your face. His overwhelming presence surrounded you, his inquisitive eyes boring into yours as he tried to search your mind for the real reason you’d been so put out all day. Quick as a whip, you shoved against his chest and turned your head away in a bid to protect the dreary thoughts that had plagued you for the bulk of the day.

“Talk to me,” he half-commanded, half-implored you. “Tell me what thoughts are whipping around through that head of yours.”

You scowled, turning away from him completely as you strode to the other side of the sparring ring. Sylus followed you easily, unwilling to let you mope your way out of his interrogation, and he planted himself squarely behind you as you started to undo the wraps protecting your fists. “It doesn’t matter. It’s nothing new, anyways…”

The dejected tone lacing your words didn’t escape Sylus in the slightest, and in the reflection of the mirror straight ahead, you saw his brows furrow at the same time his lips formed a straight line. “Sweetie, if it’s nothing new, that’s all the more reason to talk about it. I know I’m not great at playing the role of a therapist, but if whatever’s bothering you is this serious, I’d like to help.”

A deep, relenting sigh escaped you at that moment. You unwound the wraps around your hands and let the bandages flutter to the floor listlessly before hesitantly turning back around to face the silver haired man. Sylus’ striking eyes were narrowed with concern, his expression conveying his worry for you plainly enough that you felt your heart trip over itself in your chest. He didn’t deserve to deal with the moodiness that came with your insecurities. Kieran and Luke didn’t, either. Even though it was embarrassing and disappointing to admit, you figured you could at the very least be honest about your diffidence.

“You can’t help. That’s the thing. It’s– well, it’s stupid.” Sylus gazed at you expectantly, his eyes silently conveying that he would be the judge of that. Looking down at your feet, you forced the rest of the admission from your lips, even though it pained you to do so. “I just want to be able to protect myself. The same way you and all my friends can. I don’t want to have to rely on other people to defend me in a fight, but I don’t think that will ever be possible.”

Sylus cocked his head to the side in confusion. “You do a pretty good job of defending yourself, kitten. You’ve come a long way since I found you kneeling all alone in the N109 Zone.”

“It’s not that. I just…” For crying out loud, why was this so difficult? Maybe it had to do with Sylus quite literally being the strongest person you knew. Confessing your insecurities to the leader of Onychinus, the most wanted man in the world, wasn’t exactly child’s play in your mind. Still, you endeavored to try. “My martial training is all I’ve got. My Evol isn’t any good on its own. I can’t conjure fire or ice, I can’t manipulate gravity to lob boulders at enemies. I just… boost other people. I strengthen others, but on my own? I’m a liability.”

Sylus crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back on his heel, tapping his fingers against his bicep thoughtfully. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but isn’t your ability incredibly rare? Anhausen Class Evols aren’t common. You’re actually quite valuable.”

“Only if I’m fighting with someone who has an offensive ability,” you helpfully supplied, pointing at him for emphasis. “I don’t stand a chance against a Deluge Wyrmlord by myself. I have no choice but to rely on my partners for help. Even though I know it’s irrational and silly, I’ve always resented that. I just… I don't want to be weak.”

Sylus took in your admission quietly, nodding to himself as his otherworldly eyes bored into yours. To say it left you feeling vulnerable was a monumental understatement. You felt raw. Laid bare before the one person you trusted most. It scared you to think he might think less of you for the revelation, even though deep down you knew Sylus would never judge you for it.

Fidgeting uncomfortably, you bent down to snatch your wraps off the floor of the sparring ring, pausing before leaving as you tried to come up with what to say next. Sylus beat you to the punch, however, his gravelly voice drawing your attention back to him. “I know it’s subjective, but I’ve always thought you were a skilled fighter. Your Evol aside, you’re invaluable on the battlefield. Quick thinking and clever planning have gotten you far when we fight together. You aren’t a liability, sweetie, and you’re definitely not weak. I think you’re selling yourself short.”

Your stomach lurched as you realized you’d heard similar placations in the past from your grandma. As worried as she had been when you’d passed your Hunter’s Exam, she was supportive of your career choice and had always done her best to encourage you. She had never wanted your heart condition to slow you down or influence your decision making, and you had convinced yourself a long time ago that she’d played a monumental role in you having made it this far.

Unfortunately, self-doubt had been a nagging, longtime friend of yours.

Flashing him a small but grateful smile, you nervously twirled your used wraps around your fingers before jerking your thumb over your shoulder towards the doorway. “Thanks. It’s not a big deal though, I’ll be fine. I’m, uh, going to go shower. Sorry for being a brat earlier, I’ll… I’ll work on the whole confidence thing later.”

You were relieved that he didn’t stop you as you ducked under the ropes of the sparring ring. As grateful as you were about how he’d handled your admission, you needed some alone time to sift through your thoughts, and another piping hot shower was the perfect opportunity to do so. Reaching for the towel you’d left slung over the weapon rack in the corner, you tossed it over your shoulder and started to make your way to the exit, sneaking a quick glance at Sylus in one of the massive mirrors that lined the wall.

He was still standing in the center of the ring, gazing straight ahead with a curious look playing on his features. It was an expression you’d seen many times before, usually when he was concocting a scheme of his in the spur of the moment. While part of you was appreciative of Sylus’ natural inclination to flock to your aid and try to make everything better for you, you sorely doubted that this would be one of those times.

Unless you magically found a way to rid yourself of years worth of self-depricating introspection, you were convinced you would be stuck with these thoughts for the rest of your life.

—

You had been reading for so long that you were certain your eyes were on the brink of falling out of your head.

Having long since finished your shower, you’d taken to going over the datapad Sylus had given you the day prior. It was chock full of information on the Wanderers he had asked for help dispatching; where they were, previous reports of attacks linked back to them, their weaknesses. Most of the information was redundant. As a Hunter, you had intimate knowledge about the creatures and their habits. But following your uncomfortable confession earlier in the gym, you were curious as to whether or not it would be possible to handle killing the damn things by yourself.

Not that you were going to try. You weren’t that stupid. Just… wondering.

So far, the answer was no. It was suicide to go up against Wanderers of this calibre without an offensive Evol. That, or a good old fashioned, coordinated aerial strike.

You had neither of those things.

Sighing in annoyance, you set the datapad on your lap and shoved the heels of your palms into your eyes, rubbing hard enough to see shapes. It had been a couple of hours since you’d last seen Sylus, and you felt bad that your moping had gotten in the way of finishing the job he had brought you along for. There were two more Wanderers that needed killing; an Ignitus Wyrmlord and a Luminivore. Both were high ranking threats, so you doubted that the Onychinus leader would have gone out on his own to deal with them.

But maybe he had. Maybe he had been staring off into space as you’d left the gym because he’d realized that you were right, and he was better off handling the creatures by himself. He wasn’t the type to wait for approval, much less your own, so the possibility wasn’t too outlandish to consider.

You were hurting your own feelings thinking as much, though.

With a muffled thump, you slapped your hands down on the bed and tossed your head back against the pillows. Maybe you needed therapy. Your dejected thoughts weren’t getting you anywhere, and they weren’t going to change anything. At the end of the day, you were who you were, and everyone else was… who they were. You brought plenty of value to the Hunter’s Association just by being yourself. Wishing to be stronger, faster, and more powerful wouldn’t make it happen. Those were traits acquired through hard work, dedication, and pure chance.

Not by lying in bed reading.

Just as you were about to shove the datapad off your lap to jump up from the bed, a knock sounded at the door. You nearly tripped over your duffel bag on your way to undo the lock, but once you yanked it open, you were surprised to find Luke on the other side. Or was it Kieran? Sometimes it felt like you were guessing who was who.

“Sorry to bother you.” Ah, it was Kieran. “Boss asked me to send you up to him. He wants to talk with you.”

Your brows furrowed and your eyes narrowed, immediately suspicious of the crime lord’s intentions. He had never sent for you before. “Okay…” the lone word was drawn out, your hesitation evident in your tone. “Where is he?”

It was impossible to tell what kind of expression Kieran wore behind his mask, but his shoulders did stiffen a little in response to the question. He was as uncomfortable with the situation as you were. “He’s in his room. He didn’t seem mad, but I can honestly never tell with him. Good luck.”

As suddenly as he arrived, he was gone. Literally. You blinked and Kieran had just vanished. He and his brother were as odd as they came, but you steeled your nerves and did your best not to seem rattled as you exited the guest room and padded your way towards the staircase.

The last time you had stayed with Sylus, he had set you up in a different room on the second floor that was now home to a slew of antique weaponry that had yet to be unboxed. You didn’t mind the room change, but you were beginning to think Sylus had a shopping addiction. Sure, he had the money and never batted an eye at the exorbitant price tags attached to the items. But he never even used half of the things he bought. He really was like a crow. Or maybe a dragon was a better analogy, since he had a tendency to hoard everything he acquired from antique shows and business deals.

It didn’t take long for you to reach the double doors leading to the master bedroom. The ornate entryway stood tall and forebodingly at the end of the hallway, illuminated by the dim lights that lined the walls. You rapped your knuckles against the dark wood softly, only deigning to let yourself in once you had confirmation from the owner of the chamber.

“It’s open,” came Sylus’ silk-like voice from the other side.

Tentatively, you pushed open the door and stuck your head through the crack, unsure of what to find waiting for you. It turned out to be nothing more than Sylus looking over a stack of papers, hunched over the desk in the corner with a clear glass of amber liquid pinched between his long fingers. Perplexed, you slipped inside all the way and shut the door behind you, watching and waiting for the silver haired man to acknowledge your presence.

There were a few beats of silence as he reorganized the paperwork with one hand before finally turning to face you, bringing his drink to his lips as he did so. It was strange to see him drinking when there were still Wanderers lurking in the N109 Zone. You would have guessed he’d called for you so the two of you could finish the work you had started earlier in the day. Unless…

“Did you deal with the Wanderers already?”

The only show of surprise on Sylus’ face was the elegant lift of his brow, and he acknowledged your tense posture near the door with a subtle dip of his chin. “You’re really worried about being deemed unnecessary, aren’t you?”

It was a slap in the face to have the truth so boldly thrown back at you, but the truth did have a tendency to hurt. You nervously clasped your hands together in front of you, wringing your fingers together as your gaze swept across the room. “You disappeared for a while today. Then we never went back out to kill the other two Wanderers… I thought maybe you’d taken care of it yourself.”

“Then you would be wrong, kitten.” Turning back to the desk, Sylus fluidly beckoned you towards him with one simple curl of his finger. You had half a mind to be stubborn about it, but with how you were feeling right now, you decided to just be obedient. Shuffling over to him, Sylus plucked the piece of paper at the top of the stack back up and held it out to you, watching you over the rim of his glass as he took yet another sip of his drink.

“What is this?” You didn’t need to ask, as it turned out– you recognized the logo adorning the page instantly. It was a copy of the Hunter’s Association exam records. More specifically, your exam records. How the hell had Sylus gotten his hands on them? Your eyes roved up and down the parchment as you took in the familiar marks, then looked back at the crime lord expectantly. “Why do you have these?”

Tapping the side of his temple closest to his eye, he mused, “I have my ways. But I felt inclined to show you, because I found something interesting about your records.”

He balanced his forearm on your shoulder as he pointed at the paper you held, and the smoky cologne he wore flooded your senses instantaneously. “Right here,” he pointed to the column on the far right of the page, “are all the divisions that exist within the Association. Scores that are high enough in each section open doorways into possible careers with the agency. Am I right?”

You nodded. The scoring method allowed for everyone that took the test to have a high likelihood of getting a job, even if it was a lower level position. Only a select few individuals scored high enough to qualify for upper division roles, which was one of the main reasons why the Alpha Team was so small. Quality over quantity, Jenna had told you.

Sylus continued on, sweeping his finger all the way down the page to where your scores were recorded. “You, my dear, sweet Hunter, managed to pass in every single category. There wasn’t one division you didn’t qualify for. You went straight to the top of the podium because they knew your worth, but to meet the requirements for all of it? That’s nothing to turn your nose up at.”

Sylus’ motives were all beginning to make sense now. He had said it himself earlier; he wasn’t a therapist, but this was clearly his attempt at making you feel better about your self-critical thoughts. It was… nice of him. Really nice. Moreover, it was news to you. You had hardly looked at your exam results once you’d heard you had been selected to join UNICORNS, because that was all you had ever wanted. But to hear that you had passed with flying colors? Well…

“That doesn’t seem possible,” you muttered, flipping over the page to keep reading.

Sylus chuckled under his breath and took another sip of his drink before setting the glass down on the desk. “It’s possible. I have it on good authority that it’s happened a few times in the past, but only a few. You could count on one hand the number of times a brainiac was admitted into the Hunter’s Association in the last five years.”

The paper in your hands went limp as you craned your neck to the side to stare up at him, a slew of emotions racing through your mind and imbuing you with the desire to understand. You wanted to grasp the why, more than anything. Why was Sylus going out of his way to make you feel better? Why did he care so much? Why, why, why?

He seemed to understand the unspoken question based on your expression alone. The arm he had perched on your shoulder slid away, and he gently took the paper out of your hands and waved it tellingly beside his head. “You’re a far cry from a liability, sweetie. Just because your Evol works well with others doesn’t mean you bring nothing to the table, and believe me when I say that I’ll keep reminding you every chance I get.”

That burning, one word question finally escaped you, sounding airy and uncomfortably meek as it was whispered between the two of you. “Why?”

Something shifted in the air then. A level of bone-deep understanding, of yearning, of unfathomable craving, sparked to life in Sylus’ eyes, and the sight had your breath catching and your lips parting. The leader of Onychinus tilted his head to the side as he took in every detail of your face, one lone strand of his silvery hair falling into his field of view, but it hardly deterred him from drinking in the sight of you before him. The corner of his mouth quirked up into a sly smirk, and he set the parchment back down on the table while maintaining eye contact with you all the while.

“Because you’re worth the effort,” he evenly proclaimed.

You damn near broke into tears.

“Sylus…” you didn’t know what to say– what to do. It was unbelievably soft, the way he said the statement. Gentle and thoughtful and full of intention. He meant every word, and it wasn’t until he’d uttered the statement that you realized just how much you had needed to hear it.

Taking note of your turmoil, Sylus swiftly captured your hand in his and began guiding you deeper into the room. You followed him dumbly, primarily because you were still processing the utter devotion you had seen glimmering in his ruby red eyes. When the two of you stopped, he released your hand and moved to stand behind you, placing one hand on your shoulder while the other gingerly clasped the underside of your jaw and angled your head straight ahead. “What do you see?”

It took you a moment to realize that he had positioned you in front of a full length mirror propped up against the wall beside his bed. In the reflection, you could see his luminescent eyes peering at you from over your shoulder, the stark difference in your heights made all the more obvious with how the glass cut off the top portion of his head. Beyond that, though, you weren’t entirely sure what you were meant to be looking for.

“You’re very tall,” you mumbled obtusely. That earned a throaty chuckle from the man behind you, and you watched as he shook his head to himself.

“Not me, kitten. You. What do you see when you look at yourself?”

Swallowing thickly, you forced yourself to cater to his line of questioning. Your eyes zeroed in on yourself, scanning your own image from head to toe as you took in every last detail of your appearance. Your hair had dried by now and looked to be rather frizzy, and your nostrils flared as you drew in a deep, steadying breath. Your breasts rose and fell in response to the action, and your toes dug into the carpet on the floor as you tensed nervously. This felt like a test that you were quickly failing, and the thought made you anxious. All in all, you had no clue what part of yourself to focus on. You were just… you. A woman unsure of herself with quite possibly the world’s most confident man standing behind you.

The irony of that fact didn’t escape you.

“I don’t know,” you muttered under your breath, and Sylus withdrew his hand from your jaw and trailed the appendage to grasp your other shoulder. “I just see me. Messy hair, pretty eyes, shorter than you.”

Sylus smirked at you in the reflection, his hands dancing away from your shoulders to skim their way down to your biceps. “Do you want to know what I see?”

Yes. No. Maybe? Your lips pursed, and you looked at him with a timid sort of anticipation.

“I see a strong, capable woman,” he emphasized the statement with a subtle squeeze of your arms, drawing your attention to the toned muscle hiding beneath your t-shirt. “I see someone who’s put her entire heart and soul into bettering herself, both physically and mentally. I see a woman who pushes herself to improve constantly, even if she’s already doing a great job to begin with.”

His fingers slid under your arms to trail along your ribs, ghosting one of his hands up your torso to place his palm over your quickening heart. If he heard your breathing stutter, he didn’t acknowledge it. Instead, he bent down and nestled his chin in the crook of your neck from over your shoulder, murmuring his next words directly against your ear. “I see a talented Hunter who refuses to let her heart condition interfere with her goals. She remains headstrong, dutiful, and loyal to a fault, no matter the circumstances.”

The muscles in your stomach flexed instinctively as Sylus dragged his hands sensually down your front, placing them over one another to allow for him to pull you flush against him. Your body reacted of its own accord, flushing hot at the close proximity and making you acutely aware of every dip and curve of the larger man’s body. Unconsciously licking your lips, your eyes flicked back to his in the mirror, your mouth slightly parted around shallow breaths. “I see a resilient human with a mildly concerning, seemingly bottomless appetite, but who somehow always goes out of her way to share her snacks. I think her love language might be gift giving, but it’s hard to tell. She’s got wit that’s so sharp that I’m convinced it’s a weapon in and of itself. She’s compassionate, caring, and annoyingly selfless.”

“Sylus–”

“Ah,” he squeezed you tighter to him, silencing your objection before it could be fully expelled. “I’m not finished, kitten.”

Maybe not, but you were coiled tighter than a spring. You genuinely didn’t know how much more of his hedonistic touching and breathily whispered sweet-nothings you could take. A salacious sort of desire was flooding your veins, compelling you to turn around and act on your urges, but Sylus’ ironclad hold prevented you from doing so. He smiled smugly as though he was aware of your internal thoughts, nestling his chin deeper into the crook of your neck while his hands traversed lower, encroaching dangerously upon your nether region.

“To get superficial, she’s unbelievably beautiful. She gets this certain look on her face when she’s really concentrated, and her nose tends to scrunch up like a cat hissing when she’s angry. Watching her fight is one of the most satisfying things on this planet. She’s fluid, graceful, and can drive home a killer roundhouse kick.”

Ever so gently, Sylus turned his head so he could press his lips against your thundering pulse point, delivering a passionate but equally chaste kiss against your skin that made your eyelids flutter and your knees buckle. You were suddenly immensely grateful that he was holding you upright against him. He murmured huskily against your throat, “She might kill me if she hears this, but I love to watch her walk away from me. Her hips sway in this hypnotic way that drives me crazy, and she’s got these perfect legs on her that I love to imagine hanging over my shoulders.”

Fuck.

When Sylus looked at you in the mirror through his lashes, you swore up and down that he was channeling some transcendent sex demon from another world. He looked carnal. Wholly and unequivocally erotic. The hunger that shone in his eyes had heat pooling rapidly between your legs, and you found yourself unconsciously clenching your thighs together to ease the growing ache there– a move that did not escape Sylus’ attention in the slightest.

You could see the smile in his eyes as he toyed coyly with the hem of your pants, tracing his long, dexterous fingers along the elastic band and dipping the tips of his digits between the fabric and your skin. It was maddening– absolutely torturous– and all of it left you wanting more.

More of his praise, more of his touch, more of his attention. More of Sylus. You had never felt so seen and desired in your entire life. Part of you didn’t even care if it was all lip service. You would gladly choose to believe Sylus’ pretty lies if it meant he would keep the veiled duplicity coming. The way he held you, touched you, spoke to you, commanded a feeling within your body that was addicting, and you desperately wanted more of it.

Sylus broke your sinful train of thought with a lewd motion of his own; he boldly slipped his fingers under your waistband, tugging the material down your hips testingly but only daring to expose the outline of one of your hip bones. A shiver rolled down your spine as he caressed the uncovered bit of skin with his thumb, watching you like a predator from over your shoulder with unrestrained appetite.

When you twitched your hips up a little to spur him onwards, he hesitated. You met his inquisitive gaze in the mirror once again, your flushed, riled appearance a stark contrast to his controlled, put together one. “Sylus,” you whispered breathily. “Please?”

Ever the gentleman, Sylus obliged you with a throaty chuckle. He sensually dragged his fingers to the other side of your pants, tugging the attire lower and revealing inch after inch of your soft flesh. His long arms gave him the reach necessary to push the clothing all the way past your thighs, and it pooled in a disheveled heap around your feet with a barely there noise. Your underwear went next, and the anticipatory breaths you sucked down were the only sound that filled the otherwise quiet room.

Bare from the waist down, your eyes flicked between your own body and Sylus, who seemed to be eating you alive with his lust-riddled gaze. He snuck one hand under your shirt, just below your breasts, as the other situated itself under your navel, and he held your gaze as he turned to take your earlobe between his teeth. The delicate feeling of his teeth clamping over it was entirely too delectable to admit, but you showed your approval in the form of a tiny, raspy moan.

Releasing your lobe, Sylus pressed his lips against your ear, whispering seductively against you, “Now what do you see?”

You watched helplessly as your face flushed an impressive shade of crimson, spreading down your neck and disappearing beneath the neckline of your shirt. The hand Sylus had hidden under there crept higher– skimming between your breasts as though seeking out the warmth that radiated there. Wide-eyed, nervous, and incredibly self-conscious, you struggled to bite out, “Me.”

“I’ll tell you what; if you can be more specific, I’ll up the reward factor. How’s that sound?”

You were positive you were going to die of embarrassment. Your mind was slow to process that this was actually happening– that Sylus had you held tight to him, his hands just inches away from two of your most intimate areas. How you had gone from being frustrated with him this morning to putty in his hands now was a mystery to you. What you did know for certain was that you wanted more of what he was offering. A lot more, if you were being honest with yourself.

“I see you holding me,” came your shaky description. “With my pants around my ankles.”

Humming his approval, Sylus began to move his hands to where you craved them. His fingers scraped along the light dusting of hair below your navel, sneaking ever-so-close to the wetness gathering between your legs. The other moved to cup one of your breasts, the pads of his fingers flicking over your hardening nipple and drawing an unsteady gasp from you. “Tell me what I’m doing, kitten. Be as precise as you can.”

Silver hair flashed in your peripheral vision as Sylus ducked his head to mouth wetly under your ear, peppering a collection of noisy kisses along the slender column of your throat. At the same time he brought his mouth into play, his hands upped the ante; he simultaneously began rolling the peak of your breast between his fingers as the other, lower appendage started to explore between your folds, sliding easily through the slick that gathered there. The feeling was almost enough to keep you from answering him, but then you remembered his bargain.

“You’re touching me. Kissing my neck. You’re playing with… with my breasts, and your hand is–” a strangled sound slipped past your lips as Sylus pressed the pad of his fingers to your clit, causing your legs to give out for a split second. “S-Shit…”

Acting as your steadfast anchor, Sylus held you tighter to him as he backed up a few steps, sitting down on the edge of the bed with you firmly balanced on his lap. He made sure to keep you facing the mirror, much to your dismay, and he lifted his head from your neck to grin wickedly at you in the reflection. “Don’t stop now, kitten. You’re doing great…”

The attention he bestowed upon your bundle of nerves didn’t relent as he encouraged you, and your head fell back against his shoulder at the same time your hips bucked up into his touch. “I can’t, Sylus, I can’t–”

“You poor thing,” he murmured against you, and you could feel his lips curl into a self-satisfied smile. “At least tell me how I’m making you feel.”

You weren’t sure if that was a better alternative or not, but you closed your eyes and let yourself focus wholly on the movements of his hands, relishing in the sensations that washed over your body in response. The fluttering ache in the pit of your stomach ebbed and flowed as Sylus pinched and tugged on your nipple, your toes curling as his long fingers danced around your clit and smoothly slid through your soaked slit. He teased the tips of his hand closer to your entrance, and your desire to feel him inside of you was overwhelming.

“It feels good,” you managed to wheeze out through your teeth. “It feels really good– I feel hot.”

“Hot, huh? Should I stop and give you a chance to cool off?”

The deviant behind you made a point to withdraw his fingers away from your wet heat, and you whimpered disapprovingly. You shook your head against his shoulder, cracking your eyes open to stare at him pleadingly in the mirror. “N-No, please– I want more. I want to feel you inside me. Please, Sylus?”

Beneath the swell of your rear, you felt Sylus’ cock twitch against you, your begging evidently acting as his undoing. He tittered to himself shakily, the fingers that played with your nipple splaying to cup your entire breast, and the testing squeeze he gave the soft flesh had you melting against him even more. “I like the way you sound when you beg, kitten,” he rumbled, teasing his middle finger against your hole just enough to leave your hips trembling with barely contained want. “So well mannered, so polite.”

The praise left you boneless in his arms, amplified tenfold by the feeling of his digit pressing into you. You moaned fervently, your thighs instinctively sliding farther apart to give him more access. Your hands came to grip the forearm Sylus had wrapped around your waist, and you blearily watched as he buried his mouth into your neck again to sink his teeth into the junction of your throat, laving his tongue over the bite in-between his efforts to suck his mark into your skin.

“Sylus…” you sighed, twitching your hips into his palm in a bid to derive friction against your clit. He catered to your attempts, pressing the heel of his hand against the bundle of nerves deliciously as he took to languidly pumping his finger into you. It was exactly what you’d been searching for, and he mindlessly squeezed your breast as you arched into him and let loose a deep, rumbling groan.

Ruby red eyes met your half-lidded ones in the mirror as he broke away from your neck, the love-bite he’d left behind glowing bright against your skin. Venereal hunger emanated from him, his lips parting ever-so-slightly as he took in the sight of you falling apart on his lap. The blatant passion he gazed at you with was enough to make your head spin, your eyes fluttering shut once again. It was one thing to let yourself be overcome with such profuse pleasure, but it was a whole other thing to watch it be bestowed upon you. It was a level of intimacy you had never considered– never imagined– and you couldn’t decide if you found the entire display erotic or embarrassing.

Maybe it was a little bit of both. A lot of both, actually.

The hand that cupped your breast slid down your torso to escape the confines of your shirt, reappearing under your jaw to allow for Sylus to angle your head exactly where he wanted it. Your eyes snapped back open at the feeling, watching mutedly as he pumped his finger deeper into you and roughly ground his palm against your clit. Your breathing hitched around a strangled croak, and a sinful smile split Sylus’ face.

“Look at how pretty you are, kitten,” he whispered against your ear. It shouldn’t have been anatomically possible, but the flush that decorated your face darkened immeasurably. “Spread wide for me, taking my finger like it’s nothing. Do you want more?”

You nodded, Sylus’ hand following the movement since his fingers were still gripped snug beneath your jaw.

“I need you to say it. Use your words, sweetie. I know you can do it.”

“I… want more,” you said huskily. “I want more, Sylus. P-Please?”

“Good girl,” he pressed a chaste kiss to your shoulder, red eyes glued to yours all the while. He watched you rapaciously as he eased out his middle finger, then returned with his index finger added alongside. There was mercifully no teasing to be found as Sylus pressed both of the digits into your soaked, eager hole, the stretch taking nothing more than half a second to get used to. The hitched, keening noise that escaped you reverberated off the walls of the bedroom, and your eyelids fluttered as you struggled to keep your eyes open and focused on Sylus. “So tight, kitten… does it feel good?”

You nodded brainlessly, digging your nails into the skin of Sylus’ forearm as he angled the tips of his fingers up. “Y-Yes, yes,” you whimpered, left with no choice but to watch your reflection in the mirror as Sylus worked to undo you.

The heady flush that stretched across your skin coupled with your messy, undone hair had you looking positively wrecked already. Wrinkles covered the shirt you still wore, and through the material, you could see your pert nipples jutting against the fabric. Sylus still looked remarkably put together, but there was a telling flush growing across his own cheeks that clued you in on how affected he was beginning to get. That, and you could feel his growing erection pressed up against your backside.

With what little movement you could muster, you shifted your hips in his lap to press down hard against his cock, and the instant result was by far the most gratifying thing you’d ever seen. Sylus’ head fell against your shoulder, a guttural moan sounding from deep within his chest, and the hand he had wrapped snug around your jaw tightened enough that your next breath was stolen from you. Those plush lips of his parted around a shaky exhale, and the fingers he had stuffed inside of you tensed. When he looked back to meet your awaiting stare in the mirror, you flashed him a coy smirk that ignited a spark of mischievousness in his eyes.

“You… you’re a daring little minx, you know that?”

Before you could respond, Sylus recovered in record time and increased the tempo of his fingers, pumping them faster and curling them dexterously within you as though the insistent pressing would reveal something to him. You had no clue what he was aiming for, but the quicker pace had his palm rubbing insanely good against your clit, and a fire seemed to catch in your veins.

“F-Fuck, Sylus–” your babbling was cut short by the hand around your jaw tightening again, your back molding to Sylus’ chest as he guided your head back to rest against his shoulder. You panted shallowly as he worked his wrist harder, plunging the digits deeper into you, until eventually a sharp pang of arousal shot through you. “Fu– ah!”

Your body tensed against him, and Sylus groaned in abject satisfaction, pressing the side of his cheek against yours as he quickened his pace and aimed for that same spot again and again and again. It was insane– it felt staggeringly intense– enough so that you found it hard to breathe through the waves of ecstasy that crashed over you. The larger man continued to fuck you with his fingers until you began to writhe in his arms, your muscles trembling and your chest heaving with uncontrolled panting. The wet sound of his palm rubbing against your swollen clit filled the air, accompanying the strangled sounds of your labored breathing.

Sylus panted hot and heavy against your jaw, watching eagerly as your climax reached its boiling point in the pit of your stomach. “You’re close, aren’t you, kitten? I can feel it… do you want to come?”

Your voice was shrill and desperate as you sobbed, “Yes!”

“I want you to look,” he implored you, working you so close to the edge that you were prepared to do anything he wanted if it meant he would carry you over the teetering brink. “Look at yourself– watch how perfectly you come on my fingers, kitten. Show me that pretty expression.”

Words were beyond you at this point– you were a shaky, noisy, needy mess in Sylus’ arms, the metaphorical cord in your gut wrought tighter than a wire. Still, you obeyed his request, lifting your limp neck off his shoulder to gaze into the mirror straight ahead, and it was the sight of Sylus watching you ravenously that finally sent you careening into the abyss.

You came with a hoarse cry of Sylus’ name, tightening impossibly around his fingers as your hands flew to dig into the sides of his legs beneath you. Your vision flashed white and your ears rang as he continued to fuck you open, thrusting his fingers harder and rubbing that one spot that left you gasping and choking on nonsensical pleas. The wetness that slid down your thighs and dampened Sylus’ lap barely registered to you– not until your body finally went lax against him and you proceeded to shake violently. He stifled a moan of his own as your weight settled directly on his throbbing, neglected cock, but he paid it no mind as he slowed the pace of his fingers and continued to work you through your orgasm until you were nothing but a twitching, whining mess in his arms.

It took a while for you to approach anything resembling a functional human. Eventually, the feeling of Sylus withdrawing his fingers and peppering soft kisses along your neck roused you from your post-coital state, and you cracked your eyes open to find him staring fondly at you from over your shoulder.

“Beautiful,” he murmured against your heated skin. “So gorgeous. I love the sounds you make.”

The amount of sweetness that Sylus exuded was quickly approaching unnatural. Especially because you could feel how hard he was beneath you, and thus far, he had made no move to relieve himself in any way, shape, or form. It couldn’t be comfortable, but his attention had been unwaveringly fixed on you from the moment you’d entered his room.

“Sylus…” you breathed his name gently, shifting your hips a little so you applied added friction to his cock. He grunted in response, his eyes pinching together slightly as he stared warily at you in the mirror. “What about you?”

“This isn’t about me, kitten,” he rumbled, sliding his hand away from your jaw and trailing the appendage down to splay atop your thundering heart. “I wanted to do something for you. Trust me, getting to watch you fall apart on my lap was plenty fulfilling.”

While you didn’t doubt that he’d derived some sort of second hand enjoyment from fingering you, you had reservations about the fulfilling part of his statement. Nothing about his twitching, throbbing cock seemed ”fulfilled” to you, and now that you had gotten a taste of what Sylus had to offer, you found yourself wanting more.

Much, much more.

“I…” your voice trailed off as you struggled to find the right words. Sylus watched you intently all the while, his fiery gaze making you shiver. “What if I want it to be about you?”

His brow rose a fraction of an inch, his shaft throbbing tellingly beneath you. His hands traversed your pliant body reverently, coming to rest on your hips so his fingers could ghost along your jutted hip bones suggestively. “I wouldn’t let it be about me, sweetie. But if it’s what you want, then I’d be thrilled to oblige.”

Without giving yourself time to question whether it would be overstepping, you mustered up the strength to angle your body sideways so you could face Sylus fully, not in the reflection of the mirror. The smile he gave you once you turned around was lofty and full of male pride, but you really didn’t care how pleased with himself he was. If he wanted to keep things all about you, then you would gladly be selfish.

When you leaned in to kiss him, it was delicate. Exploratory and testing. You wanted to gauge just how much you could get away with before Sylus drew a line in the sand. If he drew a line in the sand. It was obvious just how much he was affected by you physically, but in the event there was something he didn’t like or wouldn’t be interested in, you wanted to give him the chance to make it clear to you.

As it turned out, kissing wasn’t something he had an issue with.

One of his hands rose from your waist to the back of your neck, holding you fast to his incredibly soft mouth as an approving moan sounded from deep in his chest. Your tentative pace was replaced almost instantly with a more urgent one as Sylus leaned into the kiss, parting your lips with his tongue so he could sweep the inside of your mouth with the muscle. The hand on your hip tightened, and the one on your neck curled into a loose fist as he gathered a handful of your hair in his grip. The cautionary kiss you had instigated quickly turned into one of passion driven forward by Sylus, and your heart soared with satisfaction.

Every minute sound that left you was swallowed up greedily by Sylus. He wasn’t kissing you so much as he was devouring you. The restraint he had practiced earlier had officially manifested into a voracious, insatiable version of the man you knew, and you went weak in the knees when it dawned on you that it was all for you.

“Tell me to stop now, kitten,” Sylus panted roughly against your lips, having finally withdrawn to catch his breath. Your lust-dark eyes were pinned to him as he let go of your hair to brush a few stray strands out of your face, then cupped the side of your cheek to return your intense gaze. “Because if you don’t, I won’t ask again. I won’t be able to later.”

Your breasts rose and fell in quick succession as you sucked down greedy breaths. Placing your own hand over his, you bit your lip and shook your head timidly, whispering softly, “I don’t want you to stop.”

Something halfway between a sigh and a growl came from Sylus then. His eyes darkened as his pupils dilated, their usual crimson hue replaced almost entirely by black. His fingers twitched against your cheek, and your stomach lurched with arousal as he licked his lips eagerly.

In one swift motion, he rose to his feet with you held fast in his arms, then turned around to roughly deposit you in his original spot on the bed. The speed with which he moved spoke volumes of his excitement, and you matched his pace by immediately reaching for the hem of your shirt. He aided you in hurriedly yanking the material over your head, your breasts bouncing as you threw the attire to the floor and scooted closer to the center of the bed. Sylus watched as you situated yourself against the pillows, his hands moving in quick succession over the buttons holding his own shirt together. The row of clasps parted to reveal creamy, toned muscle underneath, and you found your mouth watering in anticipation as he shed the fabric over his toned shoulders and moved on to his pants.

As soon as your eyes settled on the outline of his cock in his briefs, you knew you were in for it. He was huge. Even through his undergarments, he looked strikingly thick and equally as long, a pronounced wet spot evident near the head. The crime lord drank in your expression with glazed over eyes, a small smirk tugging at the corners of his lips as he teased the tips of his fingers between the waistband and his hips.

“Scared, kitten?”

You didn’t miss a beat, “That’s not normal.”

Sylus let out a sharp bark of laughter, his eyes glimmering with amusement. “Remind me again what about me strikes you as normal.” When you opened your mouth to respond, then snapped it shut with an audible crack of teeth, he smiled. “We’ll go slow, don’t worry. The last thing I want to do is hurt you.”

After being so heavily spoiled by him and finding yourself craving more, the absolute last thing you wanted to do was take things slow. You wanted him inside of you now– your still-soaked center throbbing with blatant need. You wanted Sylus to take you by your hips and drive his cock into you fast and hard and leave you a drooling, lust-drunk mess. You wanted more of his praise, more of his attention, more of his scorching touch and intoxicating kisses.

You wanted it all. But you were willing to be patient if that was what he felt you needed.

Chewing the inside of your cheek nervously, you nodded up at him. His eyes crinkled at their corners as he started to slide his briefs down his toned legs, revealing inch after inch of his insane member until it was fully freed and arching proudly against his taut stomach. Gravity seemed to be struggling to drag the thick appendage down, and your eyes went wider than saucers as you silently questioned just how the hell he would fit inside of you.

You would be lying if you said you weren’t eager to find out, though.

Sylus somehow managed to make tossing underwear over his shoulder look graceful, and you blinked at him in awe as he knelt on the mattress and began crawling towards you. Instinctively, you spread your legs apart to make room, expecting for him to situate himself between your thighs to jump right into what you’d been looking forward to. He took you by surprise, however, when he looped his arms under your knees and yanked you down the pillows closer to him, ignoring your yelp of alarm as he settled onto his stomach and tossed your legs over his shoulders, his face mere inches away from your sopping wet center.

You started to object, “What are you–”

“I told you earlier, didn’t I?” He fixed you with a sultry look that had your mouth drying up instantly, and you audibly gulped. “I said I’ve always wondered what your legs would look like hanging over my shoulders. Let a man indulge a little, sweetheart.”

The tips of his fingers ghosted lightly over the tops of your thighs, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind as he exhaled against your folds. You shivered at the deferential way he seemed to look up at you, his sharp, angular features conveying a degree of tenderness that made your heart lurch. As quick it appeared, though, it vanished– replaced by an unquenchable zeal that had your breath hitching and your muscles tensing.

Nothing could have prepared you for the animalistic way Sylus sealed his mouth over you, however. There was no warning before he dragged the flat of his tongue up your slit, taking exceptional care to circle your still-sensitive bundle of nerves in spite of your writhing. Your body jerked of its own accord, your stomach flexing as you unconsciously shifted your hips in some vain attempt to escape the onslaught of overstimulating pleasure the man bestowed upon you– all for naught. Sylus tightened his arms around your legs to hold you still, groaning with delight as your spine bowed off the mattress and in turn forced more of you on his tongue.

“S-Sylus, shit–” you gasped breathlessly, your hands gathering up and yanking at fistfuls of the satin sheets that adorned the bed. Your eyes rolled back into your skull when you felt Sylus probe at your entrance with his tongue, and you mewled pitifully when he plunged the soft, wet muscle into your equally wet center. “God, Sylus–”

You heard and felt him chuckle against you, his otherworldly eyes fluttering open to stare up at you as you crumbled in his arms. His hands curled tighter around your thighs, holding you in place with a sort of casual ease that spoke volumes of his innate strength, and he waited for you to meet his gaze before he brazenly tilted his head forward to rub his nose against your clit.

The shrill cry that tore from you echoed off the walls, and your hands flew to his hair before you could stop yourself. If the feeling of your nails scraping against his scalp was unpleasant, he didn’t show it. Instead, Sylus continued his never-ending assault against your soaked core with unabashed vigor, his sporadic groans accompanying the wet, sordid sounds he made with his mouth.

There was no way you were going to survive. It was too much. Your nerve endings were scorched beyond capacity, and the blazing inferno that burned in your gut threatened to melt you from the inside out. First his hands, and now his mouth? Was there any part of him that didn’t possess such… talent?

The irrelevant thought was banished from your mind as Sylus decided to focus his efforts on your clit once again, sucking the swollen nub into his mouth and laving his tongue over it incessantly.

He was trying to kill you.

Digging your heels into his back, you tugged at his hair harder and lolled your head from side to side, struggling to form a coherent sentence to warn him that you were close. Sylus angled his head so that he could watch you come undone beneath him, his eyes taking on a heady, bewitching quality that had you thinking he could see into the depths of your very soul. Almost hesitantly, he pulled away from your brutalized center, reaching over your thigh so he could replace his mouth with his thumb as he said, “One more time, kitten. Let me see you come again. You’re being so good– just one more time for me.”

Fuck.

It wasn’t like you could say no, much less stop yourself from careening over the edge for the second time. Especially not when Sylus’ mouth dove back on your clit, licking maddeningly over the nub as though he were a starved animal. You spasmed against the sheets, a raspy cry ripping from your throat as you climaxed again, blind and mute to the world as your legs clamped down on either side of Sylus’ head. The crime lord didn’t seem to care in the slightest. In fact, he seemed to enjoy the feeling immensely, a gruff moan resonating from his chest and reverberating against your puffy, overstimulated center.

When your body finally sagged into the mattress, Sylus was still lapping up the evidence of your arousal with persevering gusto. You were beyond words at this point, your tongue serving as nothing more than a lead weight in your mouth, so all you were able to do was shove weakly at his head in your attempts to get him to stop.

Thankfully the man still retained a sense of mercy, because he pulled away swiftly and immediately began stroking your legs comfortingly, his red eyes boring into yours as he licked the remnants of your pleasure from his lips. You were certain you had never seen such a depraved sight in your life, and a feeble whimper slithered its way from your sore throat.

“I knew it,” Sylus mused thoughtfully, breaking the thick silence that permeated the air. Still struggling to work your vocal chords, you furrowed your brows at him questioningly. “You taste sweet. I had a hunch, and you proved me right.”

If anymore blood pooled in your cheeks, you were sure your head would explode.

“And your legs are just as perfect as I thought they’d be,” he gently slid your boneless limbs off of his shoulders, sitting up just enough to give himself the range he needed to move over you fully. Crimson eyes scanned you hungrily as he asked, “Think you can wrap them around my waist, or are you too far gone?”

In the throes of ecstasy, you had forgotten that Sylus wasn’t tormenting you with his mouth for nothing. He was preparing you. The thought of experiencing more didn’t scare you as much as it excited you, and you wordlessly lifted your knees off the bed in response, doing your best to keep them steady as they trembled against your will.

The way you obediently waited for Sylus seemed to be his breaking point, because all of his prior restraint vanished in an instant as he gripped your knees and held them steady, helping you so that you could hook your quivering ankles around his waist. Once he let go, he moved to capture one of your hands in his, taking care to place a chaste, tender kiss to your knuckles before intertwining his fingers with yours and pinning the limb to the bed above your head. You panted and wiggled closer to him, shivering when you felt the thick head of his cock fall heavy against the sparse collection of hair below your navel, and then you watched through your lashes as Sylus lined himself up with your wet, waiting heat.

He stopped himself a moment before he pressed in, leaning down to kiss you softly– delicately– then rested his forehead against yours to stare unblinkingly into your eyes. “Last chance, kitten. You’re sure about this?”

Despite your spent state beneath him, you huffed out a laugh and smiled warmly. “I thought you said you weren’t going to ask again.”

He gave you a lopsided shrug, then smirked and squeezed your hand tighter in his larger one. “I guess I’m just full of surprises.”

Without thinking, you closed the miniscule distance between the two of you and kissed him again, your unrestrained hand curling around the back of his neck to hold his mouth securely to yours. Sylus returned the action with equal fervor, inhaling sharply when he felt your hips wiggle tellingly against his throbbing manhood. Breaking away just enough to murmur breathlessly against his lips, you said, “I’m sure.”

With a quick, parting peck to your kiss-swollen mouth, Sylus kept his eyes glued to yours as he slowly began to press home. The initial breach was jarring, even with how wet and pliant you were in the wake of his preparation. The tip of his cock entered you incredibly slowly, your nails digging into the back of his neck as you willed your body to breathe through the momentary discomfort. Sylus halted his hips there to give you time to adjust, pressing his lips to yours again and tilting his head to the side to deepen the kiss, tangling his tongue with yours and letting loose a contented groan. The kiss felt electric; so perfect, so slow, and so messy that you couldn’t help but welcome the wave of affection that washed over you for the Onychinus leader.

There was no way you could be content with this remaining a one-time tryst. Not with the powerful emotions that swept through you in response to Sylus’ words and actions. He had effortlessly wormed his way so deep into your heart that you doubted you would ever be able to rid yourself of your sentiments. Even before now, he had gone out of his way to cater to your every desire, helping you with anything you asked and looking out for you when you didn’t. Today had only solidified the feelings you had felt for a long, long time, and you didn’t want to give that up. You wouldn’t give that up.

“Sylus,” you breathed in-between kisses. “Sylus, I like you. I like you a lot.”

He chuckled against your mouth and drew back slightly, just enough to get a good look at your flushed, timid expression. “I like you a lot too, kitten. I always have and I always will.”

The way he said the declaration hit you with the force of a train. It was as though a lifetime of devotion had been unearthed with those few words, and a deep, profound attachment settled hot and heavy in your chest. You loved this man. You loved Sylus, and part of you felt like you had loved him for lifetimes.

Words weren’t enough to convey what you wanted to say, so you settled for sliding your hand away from his neck to splay your fingers over his sternum, his heartbeat thundering wildly beneath your palm. A shiver worked its way over him, his free hand coming to cover yours as his muscles rippled with restraint, and then he exhaled loudly. That was the only cue you needed to spur him onwards, encouraging him to pick up where he had left off.

You nudged his lower back with your heels, then groaned softly when he started to press more of himself into you. This time there was no discomfort. Only a slick, easy slide that left the two of you gasping one another’s names into the humid air. Once he was fully sheathed within your heated, pulsing walls, you found yourself nearly breathless. His cock twitched eagerly inside of you as he gave you yet another moment to gather your bearings, somehow managing to keep his composure, which was more than could be said for you.

Your mind was fucking blown. Sex was one thing, but this was sex with Sylus. The same ruthless, calculating crime lord that turned his enemies into mist and brought his rivals to their knees with a thought. The same man who commanded attention and respect just by walking into a room. The same man who withstood bullet wounds and Wanderer attacks like they were nothing more than irritating bug bites. That was the same man holding your hands now, being so strikingly gentle and waiting so incredibly patiently for you to adjust to the perfect, thick cock that filled you up so deep and so good.

When you finally relaxed and stopped clenching your thighs around Sylus’ waist, he removed your hand from his chest and intertwined your fingers with his, then pinned the appendage above your head to mirror your other arm. Being so close to your face again allowed for him to begin trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck, pausing at the junction of your shoulder to suck lightly at the salty skin there. “Tell me when, kitten,” he muttered roughly, his own need evident in the gravelly tone of his voice. “You’re running the show here.”

You angled your head to the side to give Sylus better access to your throat, and he nipped playfully at your collarbone before drawing back enough to glance at you. You had to look a special brand of fucked up, because Sylus let loose a groan laced with blatant yearning, and his hips twitched forward slightly.

As if the sheer width and length of his cock wasn’t enough, you could feel every mouthwatering vein that pulsed along his shaft. The subtle drag through your innermost walls had you arching suddenly– that one spot he had previously assaulted with his fingers now being wholly enveloped by his length. “Yes,” you gasped, digging your nails into the backs of his hands. “M-Move. Feels insane…”

Sylus chuckled under his breath, withdrawing his hips cautiously before pushing back in faster. It was still a tentative pace, but unmistakably swifter than before. The feeling of his cock sliding past that magic place inside of you had you gasping around a keening moan, and your head flew back in response to the sensations that washed over you.

Bliss, euphoria, ecstasy. Whatever it was, it was addictive, and you wanted more.

Sylus didn’t need to ask. Your body language was enough for him to go off as he worked to set a steady rhythm, pumping his hips languidly as his hands tightened almost painfully around yours. Your breathing quickly became labored as the head of his cock reached deep inside of you, seemingly punching the air from your lungs every time he bottomed out. Needy, desperate noises fell from your lips, and when your eyes snapped back to ruby red ones, you found Sylus watching you with rapt focus, unwilling to look away for fear of missing the way your lips parted with each, assessing thrust.

When your heels dug into the small of his back again, he exhaled roughly and dropped his head closer to yours. “Think you can take more, sweetie?”

You nodded brainlessly, so drunk on the feelings he was giving you that you would have agreed to anything. The fact that you did actually want more just so happened to be a happy coincidence.

Sylus grunted and wedged his knees further beneath you, giving him the support and leverage he needed to draw his hips back again before spearing his cock into you harder, the force from the action causing you to cry out with unrestrained rapture. It hit so deep, the slight angle change allowing for him to reach so unbelievably far inside of you that it felt like he was stirring up your very insides.

From that point on, things shifted from testing and exploratory to frantic and ravenous. Having been given the green light, Sylus pumped his hips into you with unleashed vigor, the lewd sound of skin slapping against skin reaching your ears as your mouth fell open. You were moaning, wheezing, gasping, and crying Sylus’ name over and over again, your mind going blank in lieu of his cock effectively muddling your brain’s ability to think. All you could do was take it with your legs hooked around him and your hands pinned by your head, entirely at his mercy as he worked the tip of his shaft past that pleasure inducing spot within you.

The sound of Sylus groaning your name pulled you back down to the present, and your eyes cracked open to find silver strands of hair falling into his face as his head hung heavy between his shoulders. “You feel incredible, sweetie. So good, so wet. You’re a work of fucking art.”

“S-Sylus,” your hands flexed in his hold weakly, your legs quaking from the effort it took to keep them wrapped around his narrow waist. Between the unrelenting slam of his hips against your ass and the mounting pressure building in the pit of your stomach, your body felt like it was being pulled in a million different directions. You were fairly certain drool spilled from the corners of your mouth as you senselessly babbled, “Sy– fuck– c-can’t, I can’t–”

Sylus picked up on your struggle and quickly readjusted your positions; he released your hands to coax your legs off of his hips, guiding the boneless limbs down to the mattress before coiling his fingers under your knees. You were utterly indisposed as he hoisted one leg up and draped it over his shoulder yet again, then pushed the other one far to the side to spread you wide open while simultaneously giving you the reprieve you had desperately needed.

The newfound angle, in turn, served to drive you higher than you had thought possible.

When Sylus reared his hips back to continue hammering his cock into you, you found that his thrusts had transformed from deep to cervix-kissing. Your spine arched clean off the bed as you threw your head back and wailed Sylus’ name, your hands clawing at the sheets so violently that your nails caught on some of the threads and tore them apart. Sylus was growling above you, his rough, panted breaths punctuated by his equally rough thrusts, and his eyes squeezed shut as he pressed his lips to the inside of your knee over his shoulder, biting and sucking at your skin hard enough that you knew it would bruise.

His control was slipping, though. Through the overwhelming ecstasy that threatened to boil over within your core, you could feel as Sylus’ pace began to falter. The snapping of his hips became more erratic, his teeth clamped down harder on your leg, and the fingers he had dug into your thigh spasmed as he fought his release with everything in him. If you could get your tongue to function, you would ask him what the hell he was waiting for.

But then he cracked those luminescent eyes of his open again, letting go of the leg you had stretched out on the bed so he could reach between your thighs.

“Come on,” Sylus implored you, his fingers rubbing relentless little circles against your swollen clit. “Come on, kitten. One more time for me. Let me feel you come on my cock– come for me.”

You couldn’t take it anymore.

The shaky groans that rumbled through you quickly turned into shrill cries of Sylus’ name as you came, your hands tearing vehemently at the satin sheets as your walls clamped down on his cock. Through the ear splitting ringing that echoed around your skull, you managed to make out the sound of Sylus groaning your name loudly, the feeling of his fingers digging into your thigh registering alongside the wavering pumping of his hips. His quick, pounding pace quickly deteriorated into something sloppier, more irregular, until he buried himself deep inside of you for the last time, then proceeded to shake.

For what seemed like an eternity, the two of you lay there gasping for breath. Sylus’ grip on your leg was still ironclad, and every muscle in your body continued to quiver sharply. The clouds in your mind refused to let you focus again, still blown away at the intensity of everything you had experienced in just one day. Sylus’ cock pulsed as the last of his spend emptied into you, and you were still so unbelievably sensitive that every tiny twitch of his shaft had you jolting and shivering against him.

Before long, Sylus gingerly slid your quivering leg off of his shoulder, taking exceptional care to set the limb down gently before he began the god-awful process of pulling out. Without him filling you up, you felt incredibly empty, and your lower half spasmed unconsciously when he finally left the warm, wet confines of your folds.

“Fuck,” Sylus finally managed to speak, trailing his hand up your calf to tenderly ghost over the bright, purple-red blotch that he’d left on your leg. “Are you alright, sweetheart?”

“Mmhng,” came your garbled response. The speech part of your brain was still struggling to turn back on.

“Oh no,” Sylus drawled sarcastically, crawling closer so he could loop his arm under your back and haul you towards the headboard alongside him. “Don’t tell me I broke you, Miss Hunter. The Association will double my bounty if they find out.”

You let Sylus manhandle you against his chest as he leaned back against the mountain of pillows, sighing softly when you felt his hand brush against your flushed cheeks. Glancing up at him through your lashes, you muttered, “I’ll make them triple it as punishment for the sarcasm.”

That earned you a chuckle from the crime lord, and he gazed down at you thoughtfully while he continued to smooth your hair out of your face. The fondness with which he stared at you was enough to bring a shy smile to your face, and you numbly wrapped your fingers around his wrist as you relished in the attention. “Ah, the tired kitten returns with her fangs bared. Triple the original price of my bounty is flattering, I’ll give you that much.”

You hummed your agreement, doing your best to fight off the bone-deep fatigue that seemed to be sneaking up on you. Your whole body exuded an ache that felt strangely… nice. Compared to how sore you tended to get when you trained throughout the night, this was pleasant by comparison. The thought of training, however, had you thinking back to your earlier discussion with Sylus, and you pursed your lips as you contemplated whether or not to voice the burning question that reiterated itself over and over in your brain.

“What are you thinking about that’s making you look so glum?” Sylus dexterously twirled his wrist out of your grip so he could intertwine your fingers with his again, and he pressed a warm, lingering kiss to your knuckles that made your heart swell with even more affection. “Do I need to put you in front of the mirror again?”

“What you said earlier,” you muttered against his chest timidly. “Did you mean all of that?”

“I would ask you which part you’re referring to, but that would be pointless since I meant everything I said tonight, kitten.” He moved your joined hands so they were held fast to his chest, directly over his heart. “I’ve always believed that it’s best to say what you mean and mean what you say. Lip service is pointless. And with you? I would never lie.”

“So all that talk about me being a great fighter, being smart, cunning… you were telling the truth?”

“Of course I was. Don’t forget the part about your legs,” he helpfully supplied, his red eyes narrowing with interest as they flicked down to the limbs in question. “Because they truly are incredibly perfect, sweetie.”

You huffed out a dry laugh, lifting your conjoined hands to lightly thump against his sternum playfully. “You’re incorrigible.”

In a flash, Sylus shifted so he was laying flat on his side with you wrapped snugly in his arms, the sudden change enough to pull a startled yelp from you. The familiar, red mist that accompanied his Evol manifested and enveloped the bed, pulling the covers over the two of you and cocooning you both in a silky haven that instantly amplified the fatigue you felt. You looked back at him from over your shoulder in time to watch as he nestled his chin into the crook of your neck, a radiant smile playing on his perfect face before he pressed a soft, sweet kiss against your lips.

“And you’re exquisite,” he countered easily, tugging you closer against him so your back was flush to his chest. Once he had you situated how he wanted, he used his Evol to plunge the room into near darkness, the only source of light coming from the dim lanterns that flickered on his desk. “Get some sleep, kitten. Tomorrow we’ll head back out and deal with those Wanderers together. I’m eager to see you in action again.”

As you nestled deeper into the cool pillows, you found your mind blissfully quiet and at ease. No rampant feelings of self-doubt plagued you, and the warmth from Sylus pressed up against you soothed your body and worked to lull you into a peaceful slumber. For the first time in a long time, ‘together’ actually sounded like something you could get used to.

Especially if together meant you and Sylus.

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace sylus #lads #lads sylus #sylus x reader #sylus x you #sylus x mc #sylus smut #love and deepspace smut #lads fanfic #love and deepspace fanfic #love and deepspace fanfiction #lads fanfiction #love and deepspace oneshot #sylus oneshot #my writing #I had absolutely no intention of making this thing so long but things just kind of happened #I am but Sylus' humble muse as I channel his essence into my writing so if he wanted to fuck for 14 pages that's what he gets #my contacts are drier than ever after proofreading all day so take it and GO

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astrologydray · 4 months ago

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The shady/bitchy side of the sun signs😳😅😭

Aries sun 🌞:

Aries Sun doesn’t hold back. If they think something, they’ll say it straight up—no sugarcoating or tact.

can be very hot-headed and quick-tempered, especially if they feel disrespected or challenged, they might lash out before thinking, spitting out harsh words they’ll later regret.

If they feel ignored or overlooked, they can get demanding and self-centered, often making a scene to get the attention they crave. Attention seekers😅?

If they don’t get what they want quickly enough, they might act out by being dismissive or cutting people off abruptly🙃.

If they feel threatened or challenged, they can become dismissive of others, acting as though they’re superior or better than everyone else.

Taurus sun 🌞:

can be extremely resistant to change and won’t budge from their opinion, even when they know they’re wrong. They’ll dig their heels in and become unwilling to compromise.

Taurus Sun might give you the silent treatment, drop subtle digs, or be snide with their comments to express their frustration. They don’t like conflict, but they’ll find ways to subtly show their displeasure. Very mush passive aggressive😭.

they can become clingy or overly possessive. If they feel someone is trying to take their spot or steal attention away from them, they might become petty, manipulating other or situations to keep control😐.

can be obsessed with luxury and comfort to the point where they can appear selfish or entitled.

they can lash out by criticizing others, whether it’s their lifestyle, choices, or values.

Gemini sun 🌞:

Gemini Sun can be extremely adaptable to the point where they may come across as two-faced. They’ll say one thing to your face and something completely different behind your back, switching sides for convenience. Two faced at the end of the day 😘.

they might resort to spreading rumors or making sly comments about others. They love to talk, and when they’re upset, they can use words as weapons to undermine or twist things in their favor.

When they feel threatened or insecure, they can play mental games, they might gaslight you, using their quick wit to make you second-guess yourself😖.

They have a tendency to become flaky or dismissive when they lose interest, leaving others to wonder what went wrong.

They can be sarcastic and cutting, using humor or wit to make others feel small or uncomfortable, sometimes just for their own amusement.

Cancer sun 🌞:

Cancer Sun tends to avoid direct confrontation, opting instead for passive-aggressive remarks, sulking, or giving the cold shoulder when they’re upset.

They may hold grudges and act distant to show their displeasure.

knows how to play on emotions and will often use guilt to manipulate others into getting what they want. They can make you feel guilty for not caring enough, even when you didn’t do anything wrong.

When Cancer Sun feels hurt, they can become overly defensive, lashing out with snide remarks or sharp criticisms. They’re easily offended and can blow things out of proportion when they feel slighted. Very moody 😡.

Cancer Sun may create emotional drama to get attention or sympathy.

Leo sun 🌞:

when they don’t get the recognition they feel they deserve, they can become dramatic, creating a scene or making everything about them. They might overreact to something small to steal the spotlight🙄.

If Leo Sun’s ego is bruised, they can become arrogant, condescending, and dismissive of others☹️.

When they’re feeling neglected or ignored, they might become passive-aggressive, sulking or making snarky comments to draw attention back to themselves. Attention seekers like Aries suns🤷🏾‍♂️.

has a competitive streak, and when someone else gets the attention they crave, they might get jealous and try to undermine that person.

If Leo Sun feels disrespected or overlooked, they can hold a grudge and act distant or cold toward the person who slighted them.

Virgo sun 🌞:

can be hyper-critical, pointing out the flaws or mistakes in others, often in a condescending way🧍🏾.

Virgo Sun might resort to subtle digs or snide remarks. They may act helpful on the surface but make passive-aggressive comments to make you feel bad or question your abilities👎🏾.

If someone doesn’t meet their high standards, Virgo Sun can become distant or critical, making it clear that you don’t measure up.

use their helpfulness as a way to manipulate or guilt-trip others into doing things their way.

When they feel unappreciated or criticized, Virgo Sun may shut down emotionally, acting distant, aloof, or cold 😖.

Libra sun 🌞:

Libra Sun hates conflict and tends to avoid making tough decisions, but this can make them seem two-faced.

They might play both sides of a conflict, trying to stay on everyone’s good side, but in the process, they can come across as disingenuous or self-serving.

they can also be judgmental when they think others are out of line or don’t meet their standards.

if they feel neglected, they might dramatize their emotions or make subtle digs to draw attention back to themselves. Attention seekers as well😭.

They might not always ask directly for praise, but they’ll definitely find ways to make you notice when they’re feeling overlooked🙄.

Scorpio sun 🌞:

can be extremely unforgiving. If they feel wronged, they won’t forget it😭.

Scorpio Sun can be master manipulators, using their intense emotional intelligence to control situations or people around them.

doesn’t trust easily and can be very secretive about their own feelings, plans, or intentions.

They can hold tight, becoming possessive, controlling the people or situations they care about in order to feel secure.

When Scorpio Sun feels hurt or threatened, they can be brutally honest, cutting people down with their sharp tongue. They don’t hesitate to speak their mind, even if it means destroying someone emotionally in the process😘.

Sagittarius sun 🌞:

known for their brutal honesty, and when they’re feeling shady, they can be blunt to the point of cruelty.

When faced with responsibilities or emotional commitments, Sagittarius Sun can become irresponsible or flaky. They might avoid confrontation by ghosting or disappearing when things get too serious, leaving others to deal with the fallout😐.

Their honesty can easily slide into rudeness. When feeling edgy or rebellious, they might drop sarcastic comments or mocking remarks that hurt others, all while insisting they were just being “honest” or “real.”

Sagittarius Sun can be dramatic, blowing things out of proportion to make a point or get attention.

Sagittarius Sun can be unpredictable in their moods and actions, especially if they’re not feeling tethered to anything.

Capricorn sun 🌞:

is known for being emotionally reserved and, when they feel slighted, they can become emotionally distant or even completely cold.

can be extremely critical of others, especially when it comes to work, success, or practical matters. acting as though they are superior because of their hard work and achievements.

they can become calculating, manipulating situations, or using their strategic thinking to get ahead at the expense of others🧠.

If Capricorn Sun feels wronged, they can be extremely unforgiving. They might hold grudges for a long time.

Capricorn Sun can become obsessed with power and control, especially when they feel like they need to protect their status.

Aquarius sun 🌞:

Aquarius Sun can be emotionally distant and detached, especially if they feel someone is trying to cling to them or demand too much emotional attention.

can become stubborn or contrarian when they feel their views are being questioned.

Aquarius Sun can be sarcastic or mocking, using sharp wit to belittle others or make them feel foolish “it’s just a joke” persona. When they feel shady😭.

If Aquarius Sun feels emotionally uncomfortable or isn’t interested, they can become emotionally unavailable and dismissive, shutting people down when they try to connect.

can sometimes use mind games or psychological manipulation to assert their control. They may play with people’s perceptions, leaving them guessing or questioning their intentions in an effort to maintain dominance or superiority.

Pisces sun 🌞:

Pisces Sun tends to avoid conflict, but when they’re upset, they can become passive-aggressive.

When things don’t go their way, Pisces Sun can blow situations out of proportion or become overly dramatic.

Pisces Sun might escape reality or avoid taking responsibility when things get tough🫥.

When Pisces Sun feels threatened or vulnerable, they can become secretive or deceptive, hiding the truth to protect themselves. They may tell white lies or withhold information to avoid confrontation or to maintain their carefully constructed image.

Pisces Sun can become disillusioned with the world or people around them, and when that happens, they might turn sarcastic or cynical.

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planetsano · 2 years ago

Text

warnings: hybrid talk, master/pet, heats, knot mention.

gojo satoru would be the best caregiver looking after his hybrid girl. you’re so precious and sweet to him, you can barely string together a coherent sentence but satoru’s long since come to understand what you’re trying to convey. he thinks it’s so cute when you get frustrated that your words aren’t matching with the big emotions you’re feeling in your chest and it makes your bottom lip quiver and tears well in your eyes. but he understands— he makes you feel seen, heard, understood and loved.

if you’re a little lamb hybrid, you’re so gentle with kind demeanor, but you’re also timid or shy. gojo tries to get you out of your comfort zone by making you ask the cashier for your own ketchup and extra napkins.

if you’re a little bunny hybrid, you’re curious, friendly, and a bit mischievous at times. he can’t get enough of touching on your little cotton tail and soft, floppy ears. the way you eat your fruits is SO fucking cute because you space out while you nibble.

if you’re a little puppy hybrid, you’re curiosity gets you into a bit of trouble because you get into things you’re not supposed to. your demeanor is bubbly, energetic, and eager to please. you love to play fight and go outdoors.

but that’s neither here or there, really. satoru knows it’s wrong.. perverse to stick his cock in you even if you’re in heat. your tight little cunt is visibly dripping, pulsating for something to fill it right up like a fucking plug. he’s your master, right? you don’t understand why he’s hesitating so much but in your simple little mind, you don’t think about the nuisances that come with having sex in humans. it’s already viewed as taboo to own a hybrid in today’s society. he’d just be fitting out the stereotype.

gojo isn’t a pervert.

but how can he say no when you’re pawing at his crotch, sniffing his scent with a shaky whine in your throat? you’re just a precious and you’re begging for it— but he soon realizes you’re starting to beg for a knot he just doesn’t have. it disappoints him a tad bit that he can’t satisfy you in a truly primal way. so he fucks you until you’ve passed out from exhaustion and he’s shooting blanks. too much pleasure turns into pain after a while.

so he tells you he’s gonna get you some yucky pills that are supposed to “help” by suppressing your heats monthly.

but satoru can’t help but to think about the memory of how sloppy, hot and wet your cunt felt around him— he’s never had a cunt so good before. maybe he’d opt in for a more.. “natural” way of getting you through your heats..

#┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° bria writes!#jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo smut #jujustsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #jjk gojo #jjk x reader #female reader #f!reader

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dragoneyelashart · 2 months ago

Text

stressed out

summary: you’re stressed about tests and billie helps you!

authors note: kinda done w testing season

fluff

the weight of the week had been suffocating. eight tests, back-to-back, and next week was already threatening to pile on even more. stress had settled deep into your bones, making it impossible to think of anything else. billie was busy in the studio as usual, her music always a comforting escape, but tonight, you opted against joining her. there was simply too much work to do.

papers were scattered across the floor in front of the bed, while others were stacked in disarray on the desk, creating a chaotic web of notes, textbooks, and scribbled reminders. over 500 terms to memorize, a mountain of math problems to conquer, and a paper that felt like it would never end. you ran your fingers through your hair in frustration, trying to recall the last part of a definition.

“the hypothalamus is in the brain that produces hormones that control hunger, mood, body temperature, and… what’s the last one?” you muttered, your voice shaky. your eyes flicked to the notes in front of you, your mind frantically searching for the missing piece. “heart temperature. that’s it,” you sighed, flipping over your flashcard with a mix of relief and dread.

it was then that the sharp sound of glass shattering echoed through the room. your heart skipped a beat. billie’s eyebrow raised in confusion, and you could already hear her footsteps hurrying toward you. you froze, your breath catching in your throat as she stepped into the room, her eyes widening at the sight of the mess—the scattered papers and the shards of glass scattered across the floor, glittering under the soft light.

your trembling lip betrayed you before you could hide it. tears welled in your eyes, and you wiped at them furiously, trying to push the wave of emotion away. but the tears kept coming.

billie’s expression softened instantly, her concern clear. “hey, hey, my love. it’s okay, i’m here,” she murmured, her arms wrapping around you. the warmth of her embrace offered a fleeting sense of comfort, but the tears didn’t stop. you couldn’t hold it back anymore.

“i’m sorry, billie,” you choked out, your voice barely above a whisper. “i’ll clean it up. just give me a sec.”

before you could even move, billie pulled you back into her arms, her grip firm, refusing to let you go. “don’t worry about that, baby,” she said gently. “you need a break, okay? just come here.”

with a reassuring smile, she guided you to the bed, switching on the tv to your favorite show. she lay beside you for a moment, her presence grounding you. her touch, soft and soothing, calmed your racing thoughts for just a moment. but the weight of the week was still heavy on your mind, the endless tests and the mountain of content you had to memorize.

billie didn’t leave you alone for long. she soon returned, a broom in one hand, and in the other, a water bottle and a cinnamon roll her mom had sent earlier that day. she placed them gently on the bed and kissed your forehead, her soft lips offering a quiet comfort.

you smiled weakly, grateful for the gesture, but the stress still lingered like a fog in your mind, your thoughts spiraling back to the mountain of work waiting for you. billie, ever attentive, noticed the tension in your shoulders and the faraway look in your eyes.

“what’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” she asked, her voice low and soft.

you looked away from the tv, giving her a faint smile, though it didn’t quite reach your eyes. “just thinking,” you whispered.

billie didn’t push. instead, she suggested, “would it help if you spoke it out loud? you can talk to me, baby. i might not know much, but i’ll listen.”

you couldn’t help but giggle at her hopeful tone, the small burst of laughter feeling like a tiny release. nodding, you scooted closer to her, your head resting on her chest as she wrapped her arms around you, her fingers gently combing through your hair.

“okay,” she said, her voice a soft hum against your ear. “what class first, pretty girl?”

you let out a breath, feeling the tension start to ebb away as her hands moved soothingly down your back. “psychology,” you replied quietly, your voice a bit steadier.

and with that, you started to talk—rambling through the terms, correcting yourself as you went, but more importantly, feeling the weight of your anxiety start to lift with each word. billie’s encouragement, her kisses on your forehead and the soft way she praised you for getting through each term, made the flood of information feel less overwhelming. the frantic energy that had consumed you earlier slowly began to dissipate, replaced by a sense of calm as you moved from class to class.

“take your time, baby,” billie reassured you after each term, her voice a steady anchor. the more you spoke, the clearer everything became. it wasn’t as hard as it seemed when you were on your own, surrounded by the chaos. with billie by your side, it didn’t feel so insurmountable.

finally, you moved into the last subject, and your body relaxed into billie’s arms. she kissed your forehead again, this time with a softness that spoke of comfort and care. “rest, sweet girl,” she murmured, her voice low and soothing. “your work isn’t going anywhere. i promise.”

taglist: @amara-eilish @bilswifee @iamnicoke @eloiseluvsbillie | send me an ask if you want to be added or removed from my taglist!

#billie eilish #billie eilish x reader #billie eilish fluff #billie eilish fic #billie eilish imagine #billie eilish smut #billie eilish x you #billie x reader #billieeilish #ᯓ★ zara writes #billie eilish angst #billie eilish fanfiction #billie eilish x female reader #billie ellish lyrics #hmhas billie eilish #hmhas #hit me hard and soft

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alastorss · 1 year ago

Note

Could you maybe write something with Alastor and reader,

and reader gets hurt in the extermination and he cares for her? And maybe like she takes a nap on his lap and he just sorta falls asleep right next to her?

a/n: hello!! i sort of got carried away with this one and made it more sappy than i originally intended, but i hope you still like it! for context: the reader stepped into battle when alastor was hurt by adam and this is the aftermath :) hurt/comfort and fluff!

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

Alastor has been eerily quiet since returning to the newly-rebuilt hotel, sutures and bandages in hand.

All his belongings, including his beloved cane, have been cast aside in lieu of medical supplies to be split between you. One measly box worth of gauze and sanitizing wipes. Definitely nothing to gawk at, but good enough.

He's stripped his shirt without any exchange of words. You know his silent request, too prideful to ask for your help verbally but desperation clear in his expression.

"Is this the only spot?" You ask, slowly stringing a suture through his skin. He hisses in pain—his only response. The demon doesn't even gratify you with his eyes anymore, opting to stare off into space as if his mind has taken a vacation elsewhere.

You frown but continue delicately stitching him, piecing him together until he's whole again. His back hits the dresser as he leans on it, body instinctively trying to crawl away from the stinging of the needle. Finally, you knot the end of the sutures and sigh in relief, reaching over to get something to clean the area.

"I'm glad this whole fiasco is over," you comment softly, knowing it won't make him look at you. "With their leader gone, maybe the angels will finally—"

"You disobeyed me," he suddenly snaps. "Why?"

You pause in your movements, blinking up at Alastor while he glowers at you. His eyes narrow into slits, half out of anger and half in a grimace.

"You were cornered. I couldn't just sit by and—"

"I told you to stay out of it," he interrupts again, slapping away your hand. You gasp, alcohol wipe hitting the floor beside you. Defiantly, you challenge him with a glare of your own.

"I'm trying to help, asshole!"

"I know, I know!" He explodes, obviously frustrated. "And look where it got you!"

He pinches your chin to tilt your head up toward him, rotating your face around so he can observe your wounds. A cut lip, a bruising eye—horrible reminders that sinners could be hurt. And you were no more of a sinner than he, much less an Overlord who knew the shape of a soul.

"You risked your life by intervening! What if you had been struck down, you fool?"

Alastor's voice is all panic and no composure, missing any semblance of that accent which is so beloved to him. You know he's telling you exactly what he feels, true emotions unburdened by the character he built for himself in the afterlife.

"So be it! It's no less a fate than what would have happened to you!" You emphasize by jabbing your finger just above his wounded abdomen, careful not to agitate his fresh stitches.

Wincing, he goes silent. It's unnerving how quiet it is again. You've gotten so used to the ambient buzz of his static, but with it missing, you can feel the hairs on the back of your neck pricking up in unease.

He still hasn't released your face, clawed fingers pinching your chin and holding you in place. It isn't until he feels the wetness of your tears pooling at the pads of his fingers that he recoils in surprise.

Sighing, he twists over to open new packs of wipes. You stay still while he carefully cleans your face, ignoring your little whelps of pain the best he can.

Once the blood is gone, he pauses. Then, his fingers gingerly wipe under your eyes, swiping away the globs of tears spilling down your cheeks.

You are pitiful right now, he thinks. Though he probably looks no better.

"I'm sorry," you hiccup. "I don't mean to make you worry."

His expression softens, though his viscous smile remains. You can see it in his eyes—something genuine buried beneath his act.

"I don't want you to die," you admit quietly.

"I wouldn't dream of it, my dear."

You laugh dryly, wiping up your tears on your own with your bloodied sleeves.

"But you almost did. What would I do without you?"

The question is rhetorical, but something vile still swirls violently in your stomach at the idea. As if knowing what's going through your mind, he grabs you by the cheeks and forces you to meet his stare again.

"Not another word out of you," he demands.

His gaze flicks to the bruising under your eye, flesh already discoloured and swelling. "Got a remedy?" You grumble.

Alastor shakes his head but leans in anyway, pressing a chaste kiss just below the swelling. His lips linger on your skin for a moment before he pulls away, amused by your stunned expression.

He invades your space again, this time kissing the crown of your head. Speaking into your hair, he whispers, "I will be more careful. I promise."

"And I'll think before charging into battle after you," you chuckle softly, overwhelmed by his warmth.

Slowly, he tugs you along and sits you on the sofa. He brushes the hair from your eye and takes the opportunity to look at it under better lighting. Just like that, he vanishes, melting into the shadows. When he reappears in front of you, he has cold packs. In a place so warm, they are of little use. But they are better than nothing, he supposes.

Groaning in pain, he seats himself beside you and allows you to slot under his arm. Two demons seeking comfort and companionship curled up together—any other Overlord would laugh.

But Alastor knows what it means to be loved, to have someone who would stand in front of a lethal blow for him, to be stitched back together by your hands.

In the safety of each others' presence, you both fall asleep with the faint hum of static filling the air.

taglist: @the-lake-is-calling @dragons-and-dwarves-are-nice @averylonelysea @bri22222 @cxrsedwxrlds @amarokofficial @anae-naea-zacheria @for-hearthand-home @fantasy-is-best @angixyc @th3-st4r-gur1 @i-am-nonbinary-bean-deal-with-it @dilemmaiscool @concentratedconcrete (send an ask to be added!)

#alastor x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor #hazbin alastor #hazbin x reader #alastor fanfic #alastor fic #alastor headcanons #alastor fanfiction #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor x you #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin #hazbin hotel headcanons #hazbin hotel fanfic #alastor fluff #faye's thoughts — ☁

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thelastofme-l · 1 month ago

Text

Batmans and Robins

Jesse TLOU x F!READER

Warnings: pregnancy, contractions, active labor, cursing, mentions of blood, baby daddy!jesse, mentions of oral (female receiving)

Summary: Timing is everything...especially when you're pregnant in the apocalypse.

A/n: Ya'll I'm ovulating and needed baby daddy!Jesse like water. I'm just gonna keep writing and pretend that the next week's episode isn't actually happening...haha... :(

Word count: 8,064

Something woke you up.

You let out a huff, feeling extremely frustrated that, for what seemed like the millionth night in a row, you weren't able to stay asleep. You turn your head, glancing at the clock on the nightstand.

2:47am

The cool night air blew through the open window, billowing the curtains. The moonlight provided the only light in the dark room, bathing the empty bassinet just underneath the window in a white glow.

As if on queue, you felt a sharp kick under your rib and winced, moving your hand to the spot and rubbing gently. You were a couple weeks shy of 9 months and completely fed up with being pregnant.

To be fair, you had been fed up since your first trimester when you were vomiting up everything you ate and constantly nauseous.

Jesse waited on you, hand and foot, when he wasn't busy with patrols or the council.

Right after you'd found out you were pregnant, he had become the youngest member of the council and Tommy's right-hand man. It came with a lot of responsibilities and struggles, but he stuck around when you threatened his life and for the rough couple of weeks when the mere sight of him sent you into a rage.

You would scream at him and then cry hysterically when the fog would clear, and you realized just how mean you were being.

Of course, he didn't hold it against you, assuring you it was all normal. The emotional outbursts came with the territory, besides he was far too busy being obsessed with the idea of you carrying his baby to let anything bother him.

He'd been reading the books that Maria had given you, including a book called 'What To Expect When You're Expecting'. Anything he couldn't find in the books, would be answered by Tommy, the man he went to for all of life's questions.

You knew he was talking Tommy's ear off any chance he got. A handful of times you'd find them sat on your porch, Jesse with a list of questions and Tommy with a beer, trying his best to answer. It helped that Ben was only 5 years old, so all the memories of Maria throwing him out for breathing too close or her strange cravings were still fresh in his mind.

By your second trimester, the nausea had subsided, and you felt the glow that everyone talked about. You had your energy back, for the most part, and was able to return to your duties in the community, as much as Jesse would allow.

The guy had spies all over town and the second you attempted something like lifting a box or guiding a horse into a stall, you were stopped. You thought it was cute how much he cared.

At town parties he would dote on you, finding any excuse to touch your ever-growing bump.

At home he would give you massages or rub your feet, which always turned into something more. He opted for pleasuring you whenever he got the chance, having read that orgasms throughout the pregnancy could lessen the pain of childbirth. You weren't sure if it was true, but you weren't going to stop him.

Now nearing the end of your pregnancy, whatever comfort or sex drive you had, was completely gone. Your belly was protruding so far that you could barely see your feet, which were swollen and painful to walk on. Your whole body seemed to ache more and more each day making it damn near impossible to sleep.

The baby was running out of room inside you, and you were running out of patience.

You sighed, shifting slowly in bed, careful to not wake Jesse who was snoring quietly beside you. He'd become quite a light sleeper over the course of the last couple of months, always worried you might need something in the middle of the night.

When you finally managed to sit up against the headboard you pushed the messy hair off your face and reached for the glass of water on the nightstand. It was room temperature now, but still eased your dry throat.

Just as you set the glass back down, there was a gentle touch on your arm, followed by a deep, gravelly voice, "Are you okay baby?"

With the moonlight shining through you could see that he was propped up on his elbow, blinking at you. He'd had a long day of riding with Tommy; with the warm season coming there was more sightings of infected in the area.

"I'm okay," You whispered, moving your hand back to your belly as you felt a strange sensation in place of the baby's kicks, "Go back to sleep"

Intuitive as ever his hand followed, resting just below yours as his thumb rubbed soothingly across the fabric of the shirt that covered the large bump, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong," You sighed, watching him yawn and feeling guilty for stirring him awake. "I'm just feeling some of tightness right here"

"Contractions?" He asked, voice cracking as he shifted slightly under the blanket, ready to bolt out of bed. He'd been nervous about the thought of you going into labor since the moment you told him you were pregnant.

"No—Well I don't think so," You replied, as the feeling began to dissipate. It's not like you had experience with it, but judging off what Maria had told you, that wasn't what a contraction would feel like, "It was just weird"

He listened intently, chewing on the inside of his cheek. After a moment he nodded, rubbing at his eyes, "Maybe it was braxton hicks, sort of like practice contractions to prepare you for labor"

"You've been spending way too much time reading those damn books," You teased, feeling his hand run along your thigh under the blanket, leaving a trail of goosebumps. You leaned over carefully, catching his expression before pressing your lips against his in a quick gentle kiss, "It doesn't matter, it's gone now"

Just was you were pulling away, he was leaning back in, chasing your lips. When he caught them again, he moved his slow against yours, savoring the taste of you in his tired state. You kissed him back, enjoying the way his tongue slipped into your mouth as he moved closer to you. You felt his hand slide to your inner thigh just as you pulled back, breaking the kiss again.

He made a sound deep in his throat that made you wish you weren't pregnant and had the energy to go all night with him. But instead you leaned over and whispered, "I'm going to get a snack"

Jesse moved to sit up then, more awake despite the yawn that escaped his lips, "I'll go with you"

"Jesse," You laughed, pressing your hand to his bare chest and pushing him back into the pillows, "You need to sleep, you have patrol in a couple hours"

He sighed, glancing at the clock on the side table, peering at you through heavy eyelids. It wouldn't be the first night that you snuck out of bed and hung out in the kitchen, eating anything you could get your hands on.

"You'll wake me if something happens?"

Your bare feet were already coming in contact with the cold wood floors before you hummed a response to him, softly closing the door behind you as you waddled out of the room.

The trek downstairs was proving to be quite difficult as you felt another tightening sensation, this time on the other side of your belly. By the time you made it to the bottom step it was gone again and all you could think about was how hungry you were.

You turned on the stove light, learning over the months that it provided just enough light for late night snacking.

You settled on a box of cookies that Dina had dropped off a couple days prior. She knew that the pregnancy had given you an extreme sweet tooth and proclaimed herself as your cookie dealer.

You took a bite, closing your eyes dramatically as the sweetness danced over your tastebuds. If Maria were standing in the room with you, she would have laughed at the sight. She'd been telling you about old wives tales over the last few months and claimed you would be having a girl. Craving sweets was one of the big indicators along with the fact that you were carrying high, but you would only roll your eyes at her.

You didn't have a preference. All you really hoped for was a fast delivery and a healthy baby. Jesse felt the same, of course, but you could tell he was partial to a girl.

You leaned against the counter as you took another bite, looking across the room to the window. It was still dark, but the moon was providing just as much light as it was through the upstairs window.

As you reached for another cookie in the dimly lit kitchen, you heard a creak on the old floorboard behind you. Spinning around to find Jesse entering the room as he pulled a dark shirt over his head.

"-Fuck, Jesse, didn't anyone ever tell you not to sneak up on a pregnant woman"

"Sorry," His voice was still thick and scratchy from sleep as he moved across the kitchen pulling the shirt over his toned stomach, "I don't like sleeping alone"

You smiled to yourself remembering all the late nights that Jesse would be on watch when the two of you had just begun dating. You would toss and turn for hours before deciding to climb up on the gates to be with him.

"You got another long day ahead of you," You scolded, through a mouthful of cookie, "You should really go to sleep"

He ignored you, moving to stand behind you and snake his arms around your waist. His hands spread across the bottom of your belly, where he carefully applied pressure upward, lifting it.

You melted against him immediately, leaning back against his chest. The position took some of the weight and strain off of your back and abdomen as he literally held your belly for you. It was something he did often after reading that the simple gesture could alleviate some of the discomfort you were feeling.

"I love when you do this" You mumbled, swallowing the last bite of your cookie.

He hummed against your neck, pressing a soft kiss to the skin there.

"What if you did this all day?" You joked as your eyes fluttered close, feeling your muscles relax.

His chest vibrated against your back when he let out a low laugh, "It's only been a couple minutes, and I can already feel it in my back"

"You better be glad you don't have to carry this thing around 24/7," You giggled, as you felt him press another kiss to the side of your neck, "Everything hurts all the time"

"I'm sorry baby" He cooed in your ear, making your knees go weak. It never failed to surprise how much you craved him, even as pregnant as you were. "You're almost there"

"I'm lookin' forward to not being pregnant anymore," You hummed, leaning your head back to rest on his shoulder as he swayed your bodies slowly, the motion doing wonders for your hips, "Can you lift higher?"

"I'll miss it," He spoke quietly against your ear as he repositioned his hands, doing as you asked, "You look so sexy pregnant"

You had to roll your eyes even as the blush crept over your cheeks. He was never shy about his attraction to you, especially ever since you'd gotten pregnant with his baby.

You felt a sudden movement under his hands, a flutter of what felt like an arm moving, "Did you feel that?"

He nodded, "Baby is really moving tonight huh?"

"That reminds me," You hummed, closing your eyes again enjoying the moment as he pressed kisses under your ear, "We should really figure out a name"

"Jesse Jr." He responds without hesitation, suppressing his laugh against your neck, "JJ for short, works for boy or girl"

You smack at his arm. The conversation of names had come up multiple times throughout your pregnancy and Jesse wasn't much help, "I'm being serious"

"You always are," Jesse mumbled, now burying his face into the crook of your neck, "I'm not good at names"

You giggled, squirming against him as he nibbled at your skin, "How about—fuck"

A sharp pain erupted from the bottom of your stomach where Jesse's big hands were still holding you. It shocked you, causing you to jerk away from him and clutch his hand on the spot.

"What is it?" He rushed, loosening his hold on and moving in front of you in a flash, "Talk to me baby"

"Shit" You groaned again, squeezing your eyes shut as another wave hit you. "I-I don't know, I think something's wrong"

"We need to get you to the doctor," He said quickly, looking around like a lost child before gathering his bearings, "Shoes, we need shoes"

The panic hit you as he left you alone in the room. There's no way this was normal, you were still weeks away from your estimated due date. You moved to support yourself against the counter but stopped short at the sound that made your blood run cold.

In the quiet of the night, you heard the all too familiar ringing of bells. One after the other, echoing through the town.

Ding, Ding, Ding, Ding.

Four bells.

Four bells meant infected.

"Jesse" You shouted, voice shaking as you stumbled your way to the door, fighting the aching pain as best as you could. The house was still dark, but you could see the outline of his back as he froze, hearing the same bells that you had.

When he heard you hiss out in pain behind him, he spun around seeing you leaned against the wall as another wave of tightening came. He snapped out of it, pulling his other boot on before rushing to your side and dropping to his knees.

His hands were moving fast and shaking slightly as he lifted your foot and placed it in the slip-on shoes you'd managed to wear for the duration of your pregnancy, "I swear to god if this is another drill, I'll kill Tommy"

Bang.

A shot sounded over the repeating bells and you both turned towards the window just in time to see a sudden burst of a red light against the dark sky.

Flare gun.

"Definitely not a drill" You said through gritted teeth as he stood. Tommy would never waste flares on a drill, not with all the sightings in the area.

"-Fuck" Jesse suddenly yelled, heading for the hall closet where he kept his gun.

You opened the door, watching as your neighbors sprinted towards town. In the distance you could hear yelling over the bells, presumably from the men who were stationed on the walls.

"We have to go," Jesse was next to you in an instant with his gun strap hanging off his shoulder, putting his hand against your back and holding your arm as he helped you down the porch steps and into the street.

The cool night air hit you in the face as you tried to walk as fast as you could, which wasn't fast enough. The plan that Tommy had drilled into each member of the communities heads was playing through your mind:

Young ones and old ones get underground, basements or cellars and shelter in place until told it's safe to come out. Everyone else go up, rooftops and 2nd stories with guns. If there is a breach, stay off the main roads.

"You need to find Tommy" You managed, out of breath and fully halting your steps when another intense pain sliced through your stomach. You would've dropped to the ground if Jesse hadn't been supporting you.

"Not until I get you somewhere safe" He had to shout so you would hear him over the chaos and the bells getting louder as you entered the town center.

"Jesse—" You gripped his bicep, nails digging in as you attempted to manage the pain you were feeling, "You're his 2nd you should—"

"I'm not leaving you out here" He cut you off, suddenly pulling your arm across his back so he could support your weight better and get you moving again.

Your head was spinning by the time you were both standing in the middle of town, the gates were being barricaded, and everyone was rushing around you. Jesse had loosened his hold you, turning in all directions trying to come up with a plan for you. You would need a doctor in whatever shelter you were in.

Just as he moved to hold you up against him again, you were crying out and holding your stomach with both hands. There was a weird sensation between your legs and your thighs suddenly felt wet.

You reached your hand below the long shirt you wore and immediately felt the liquid that was dripping from your underwear.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

"Uh— my water just broke"

When you raised your wet hand up to show him, he could see how badly you were shaking. "It's okay baby—Listen to me," He caught your face between his big hands forcing you to look at him but you couldn't focus, on the verge of a panic attack, "We need to get you off the street, okay?"

You nodded, even though you could barely hear what he was saying over the heartbeat pounding in your ears. All you saw was the color draining from his face and the way his eyebrows were pinched together. He disappeared from your field vision for a second before you felt yourself being lifted up off the ground.

He took off running once you were secure in his arms, heading away from the gates. The jostling only making what you now knew to be contractions worse. You must've cried out again because Jesse was pressing his cheek to your forehead, holding you high and tight against him muttering, "I know, I know"

You heard Tommy before you saw him. He was yelling and panicked, moving across the street and pointing to the gates.

Jesse ran straight for him. Before he could say anything, Tommy was shouting at him, "Jesse, where the hell you been? I need you with me now!"

"The baby is coming" Jesse pleaded, looking to Tommy who had become somewhat of a father figure to him over the years, "I don't know what to do— where's the doctor?"

Tommy looked at you then, as if being snapped back to reality. Wrapped up in Jesse arms with tears running down your cheeks. He watched as your face twisted and you winced at another contraction, clutching your stomach. Then all at once he locked in, "Follow me, Maria took Ben to the cellar under the restaurant, she can help"

Suddenly, you were being jostled in Jesse arms again as he followed after Tommy. Past his head you could see the twinkling stars scattered all across the dark sky and the full moon that hung, shining down and lighting up the streets.

"How many infected?" Jesse rushed out, keeping up with Tommy as best as he could as they turned the corner.

"Too many"

Tommy's words hung in the air, amidst the chaos and yelling. You felt Jesse's fingers curl against you tighter.

Another contraction came and you balled the front of his shirt up in a fist, as you counted through it, just like Maria had taught you. He was breathing hard as they turned the final corner to the restaurant, "Just breathe through it, okay baby, just like we practiced"

You would've laughed if you hadn't been grinding your teeth together, pretty sure whatever practice you'd done would be useless at this point.

A horde of infected attacking the town was not exactly in your birth plan.

Before Tommy burst through the doors of the restaurant he was already screaming for Maria, who appeared at the doorway of the cellar toward the back of the building. She was ushering in the kids and elderly down to the cellar when her head snapped in the direction of her husband.

"Can you help?" Jesse asked, voice breaking as he approached her with you still gripping onto his shirt.

She didn't ask questions, only moved to the side so Jesse could enter. He moved down the steps carefully, clutching you tight to him. You could hear his heart beating in loud thumps against his chest.

The cellar was cold and damp, filled with people and crying children. Maria guided him as he lowered you to the ground, onto a mat that she had rolled out only seconds prior. You grunted in pain and the moment you left his grasp you were reaching out for his hand, squeezing it tightly as he knelt beside you.

"How far apart are the contractions?" She was talking to you now, coming to her knees at your feet.

"5 minutes" You say at the same time you feel Jesse's lips against the skin of your hand, echoing your words. You weren't sure how he had managed to count the contractions with you as all the chaos ensued around him, but it made you smile despite the pain in your abdomen.

Maria nodded, curtly as she moved your knees apart, "I'm going to take a look"

You were thankful that you'd only been wearing one of Jesse's shirts and underwear on this night, thinking of how much effort it would take to remove pajama pants in your current state. Her hands were freezing as she moved your soaked underwear down your trembling legs.

"This isn't what I had in mind—" You attempted to make a joke but your voice cracked, exposing just how scared you were.

Jesse brought his other hand down over your forehead that was slick with sweat and pushed your hair back.

"I know," He leaned down to press his lips against your skin, "It's gonna be okay, just breathe"

"This baby is coming" Maria spoke quickly, moving to kneel beside Jesse. "It won't be long now"

"What about the doctor?" You asked, eyes pinching shut as another contraction hits you. You cry out, digging your nails into Jesse's hand as he tries to comfort you through it.

"This baby isn't gonna wait for a doctor," Maria sighed, looking to Jesse, "I can deliver it but if there's any complications I don't know—"

"—We trust you" You breathed, opening your eyes and looking at the two of them at your side, "I trust you, Maria, please just help me"

It was all the confirmation she needed as she stood, instructing some of the women behind her on what she needed to assist you with this birth.

But you couldn't hear her, too distracted by the way Tommy was screaming for Jesse at the top of the stairs, "We need to go now, that horde is only a couple clicks out"

"I'm not leaving her" Jesse screamed back, running a hand over his face. The cellar became quiet aside from your heavy breathing and the sound of stairs creaking as more children filed in. Everyone knew Jesse was Tommy's right hand man, he'd earned the position after years of proving himself. To see them now, screaming at each other was shocking.

"Son, listen to me," Tommy must've moved down the stairs because he was louder now, "I know you want to be here but you can't help her"

Jesse had his full attention on you, as if he couldn't hear a thing Tommy was saying. But you could.

"He's right," Maria was back, moving beside Jesse and putting a rolled up blanket under your head as a sort of pillow, "You can do more out there"

He still didn't budge, only staring at you with his hand holding yours tight as his other moved up and down your arm, an attempt at calming you.

"Jesse, if those fuckers get in here we are all as good as dead," Tommy shouted, turning to head back up the stairs, "—including her and the baby"

He flinched at the words. His fingertips halting on your arm. The sounds of yelling and bells floating down the steps and echoing off the walls as Tommy ran out of the restaurant.

"Jesse" You whined, attempting to sit yourself up, only to be ushered back down by Maria.

"I'm staying right here," He moved his hands to your cheeks, wiping at your tears and speaking slow and clear to you, "I want to stay with you"

Maria had disappeared again, muttering about needing water and giving you some sliver of privacy in the over capacitated room.

"I'm scared and I want you to stay with me," You blurted out, feeling fresh tears slide past your red cheeks and collect on his fingers. You placed your hand on top of his as you winced, "—But I need you to go"

He shook his head incessantly, and you felt his thumb moving on your skin.

"Tommy's right—," You croaked, feeling your heart ache, "If you want to protect us, this baby, then you need to fight"

You moved your head slightly to get a grip on yourself, Jesse would never believe you if you kept crying the way that you were. You needed to be strong, to show him that you didn't need him; even if you did.

"There's no point in any of this if we all end up dead, right?" You attempt a light hearted laugh but your nerves have you choking back more tears instead.

He suddenly shifts on his knees moving in to press a kiss to your lips. It's desperate and feverish. As passionate as it could be in the moment, being in active labor. Your hand cards through his hair and you make a sound against his lips when you feel another shooting pain start.

"You've got a lot to fight for" You managed a smile, moving his hand to your stomach when he pulled away. "We'll be okay"

"I love you" He mutters, pressing another kiss to your lips and then again to your forehead.

"Don't die"

Jesse gave you a tight lipped smile as he stood up fully. He adjusted his gun strap on his shoulder, "I'll be back"

"She's in good hands," Maria was back, moving to your side again, nudging Jesse away carefully, "Go now Jesse"

He disappeared in a blink of an eye. You could hear him running up the stairs and the cellar door shutting behind him. The sound of the lock deafening.

"Okay sweetie, are you ready for this?"

•

In a matter of minutes, the town of Jackson was at war. From the cellar you could hear the muffled gun fire and yelling. You tried to focus as Maria checked you again, "It's almost time to start pushing"

The sound of firing was not helping your nerves especially knowing that Jesse was out there in the middle of it. Luckily, you had quite the distraction.

An older woman, Karen, was wiping your forehead with a damp cloth, trying to keep the fever that had developed away. On either side of your legs were two women who had recently given birth, holding your legs as you trembled.

"Maria I don't think I can do this" You cried, already feel exhausted despite not actively pushing.

"You can" She encouraged, gently moving your legs up so your knees were bent getting you in the right position, "You're already doing so good"

You squeezed your eyes shut, becoming ultra aware of the concrete floor and the pain spreading through your lower back. Any effort of grounding yourself ended the second Jesse went out the cellar door.

"Just remember to breathe—" She said, her voice soft, against the sudden sound of an explosion.

"What was what?" You say body lurching at the sound, but the women on either side of you, held you in place.

"Look at me," Maria spoke again, catching your attention, "Let's just focus on you and the baby right now okay?"

You nodded, propping yourself up on your elbows and gritting your teeth hard as another surge hit.

"I want you to listen to your body, it's gonna tell you when to push okay? We are going to let this happen naturally"

"This doesn't feel very natural" You groaned, throwing your head back.

"It's the most natural thing in the world" One of the women near your head cooed, giving you a sip of water.

"I don't know about that" You muttered, feeling like your body might split in two as the burning sensation intensified. "Nothing comes natural to me"

"Motherhood will"

You felt the tears falling again at the words of encouragement.

You'd never thought you'd be here.

Obviously not, currently here: in a cellar giving birth as your town is attacked by a horde of killing machines and your baby daddy is in danger of being ripped apart or infected.

But in general.

You'd never thought you'd make a good mother, the thought of having children never even crossed your mind. When you first showed up in Jackson you were a broken, scared girl. You'd done and experienced things on the outside that haunted you, even to this day. You swore you would never curse another being with living in this fucked up world and you'd never let your guard down again. It was something you held onto even as the cramped trailer pulled into the heart of Jackson.

You had managed to keep to yourself for all of five days before you were introduced to a particularly tall guy who immediately struck you as a good guy.

And not one of those guys who pretends to be a good guy to get what they want or to impress someone, but a genuine good guy. You admired him.

Cut to a couple months and many patrols later, you'd decided that you liked Mr. Good Guy. You liked his dorky jokes and the things he'd taught you about life. He easily jumped over all of the remaining walls you had left standing until there was nothing left to hide.

Life was good.

Mr. Good Guy finally made a move on you after months and months of subtle hints and flirty banter. And the relationship snowballed from there.

The two of you had talked about children and babies in casual manners. Jesse enjoyed volunteering as a coach for the limited amount of sports that Jackson offered, finding fulfillment in creating bonds with the young generation and being a role model. You'd go along and watch him in his element as kids jumped on his back and giggled at his jokes, stomach fluttering at how much of a natural he was with them.

You'd never been that way with kids, even after being settled into Jackson for as long as you had.

Often times he'd bring it up after the two of you had sex, lying sprawled out with you on his chest and heaving heavy breaths. Hypothetical questions and what ifs. It surprised you that he even pondered the idea, but then again Jackson was safe and lot of members were having babies.

You'd been rocking the pull out method for the entirety of your relationship and it worked like a charm, but you'd learned it wasn't always the best method considering you'd fallen pregnant after about eight months of dating.

You didn't bother trying to hide it, you couldn't after you realized you'd been about 2 months late. You had experienced some nausea and vomiting but assumed it was a stomach bug that you couldn't kick and Jesse magically avoided. With the hustle and bustle of Jackson and all the tasks you just simply not noticed when you didn't bleed.

Jesse had came into the house after a long day on patrol and found you curled in a ball on the bed, hysterically crying. He held you, trying as best as he could to calm you down. And eventually you did. Hours later you were curled up against him on the bed while he played with your hair and peppered you with kisses. He validated your fears and listened intently as you articulated your feelings about the situation. He had talked about the future in a way that made you feel hopeful. That night as he drifted off to sleep with his arms wrapped tight around your frame, the realization hit you that you didn't mind having a child as long as he was with you on the journey.

Of course, now, in present day you were alone. And the gunfire had yet to cease. And you didn't know if Jesse was alive or dead.

You screamed out as you pushed, feeling like hours had passed and time was dragging on. You were doing as Maria said, listening to your body but it proved difficult as the pain was nearly too much to bare.

"I want Jesse" You cried for the 15th time as the labor progressed, clutching the arms of the women who had joined to help, "I can't do this without him"

You were exhausted and the dusty air in the cellar was wearing on your lungs.

"I know sweetie," Maria was between your legs, popping her head up to coach you. When she appeared this time she rubbed your shaking knees, "And I know it hurts but you're almost there, give me two more big pushes, okay?"

You screamed again, bearing down and pushing hard, so hard that your head began to spin. If you weren't currently writhing in pain you might've felt bad for all the other people in the cellar having to listen to you.

"Push, push —"

Another scream came as you continued to try before falling back onto the small amount of padding behind your head, "–fuck, I can't"

"You have to" Maria shouted, trying to be calm but failing due to the stress, "I can see the babies head, just two more really big pushes"

You groaned trying to reposition yourself as you caught your breath, feeling a tiny hand slide over your right hand that was clutching tight to the blanket.

When you rolled your head to the side you could see Ben, Maria and Tommy's son, was sitting criss cross apple sauce beside you. His too big superhero pajamas enveloping his little body as he gave you a sweet smile.

You couldn't remember if he had been there the whole time, but he was there now, present in the moment and squeezing the top of your hand twice before picking up your hand and making you hold his little one.

"You can squeeze my hand as hard as you want, I'm strong like the hulk" His little voice calming you in a way you didn't expect. You nodded at him through the heavy breathing and another shooting pain.

He watched, eyes wide as you cry out again, the contractions trying their best to coax you through this last stage. You gave his hand a small squeeze, one that you could control and watched him beam with a smile, "See, it's doesn't hurt me"

You're sure you looked crazy smiling at him, sweat and tears keeping your face red and wet.

"Okay babe, here we go, let's do this" Maria coached again, voice shaking slightly.

You did as she said, actively remembering that your right hand was holding a small child's and using your left hand to dig into the adult woman's hand.

Another scream echoed through the cellar and you were panting like a dog by the time it was over. "Give me one last big, big push girl you got this—"

You sobbed in response, quite literally feeling like you may rip in two if you make one more move. The gunfire still echoed from above and you felt helpless.

What if Jesse is dead? What if the infected get in here and everyone dies? What if there's no point in any of this?

At this point Maria's voice felt miles away. And you felt like you were going to pass out from the exertion.

You moved to look at Ben again who was holding a Batman action figure, old with the paint fading and cape torn, clearly well loved in its years before the infected came. His little hand wavering slightly as he held him out to you.

"Batman can help"

Did you believe the 5 year old? Of course not. Did you take Batman in your sweaty hand and squeeze him anyway? Fuck yes.

"I need you to give it your all"

Your all was given about an hour ago when you started pushing. But still you beared down again, grinding teeth and sharp breaths sending spit flying onto your shirt. You clutched tightly to Batman and squeezed your eyes shut.

You were screaming so loud that you couldn't hear when Maria was talking again, you had thrown your head back again, gasping for air when you heard the glorious sound.

The smallest little cry that erupted made the room go quiet. The chatter of others silencing as a collective sigh was released.

You brought your hand up to your face, crying freely against it as you listened to the sound. A sound that you never thought would bring you so much comfort.

Two of the women helped prop you up against a crate with the blanket behind you as Maria appeared at your side, "She's beautiful"

A girl.

She had her wrapped up in a dark blanket, as she motioned for you to take her. When she transferred the baby to your arms you finally got to look at her.

She was covered in birth, bloody and white pieces stuck in her little black hairs. She was small but she looked healthy with chubby little cheeks. Her little fingers were spread, moving slowly as she became accustomed to being outside of you.

"Hi there pretty girl," You cooed, crying right along with her as you held her up to your chest, rocking ever so slightly, her whimpering continuing, "I know, I know"

You pressed your chapped lips to her small head, humming quietly as the women around you helped Maria and got you more comfortable as you delivered the placenta. But you barely noticed, too wrapped up in your own world.

"What's her name?" Ben asked, still sitting beside you on the floor, leaning over slightly to look at the new baby without getting in your space.

"I dunno" You let out a euphoric sigh as you counted her fingers and toes,"What do you think?"

"Well—" He started without a second thought, moving to his knees and leaning carefully against your shoulder to get a better look, "What about Batman?"

"Ben—" Maria started as she cleaned you up, rolling her eyes at her son, but you cut her off, smiling at the little boy.

"I don't know if her daddy will like that name very much" You adjust slightly so he can get a good look at her face, "Is there another name you can think of?"

Ben giggles, bringing his finger to his chin in a mock thinking position, "What about Robin?"

Your heart jumped at the name, you'd heard it before.

"Who's Robin?"

Ben took a breath, surprised at your little-to-no knowledge of superhero's, "Robin is Batman's side kick, he's brave and strong and has superhuman agility—"

It was also the name of Jesse's late mother. Of course, you had never met her but Jesse had told you countless stories. You couldn't believe you'd never thought about the name before.

"I love that name Ben" You cut him off from his spiel of Batman and Robin lore, reaching out and handing him the Batman toy that you had forgotten after the final push.

"Do you think Jesse will like it?" Ben was leaving your side to jump excitedly near his mom who had just covered you with a blanket after cleaning you up.

"I think he will love it"

•

Hours passed and there had still been no one to come and say that it was safe to come out. The gunfire was spread out now, every couple of minutes a new shot ringing out. No one inside the cellar could figure out what that meant.

You focused on the baby, successfully getting her to latch with some help from Maria. It felt so natural having her there on your chest that you had a hard time remembering any of the pain you'd just gone through.

You smiled to yourself, leaning your head back against the wall as your eyes became heavy, blinking a couple times to awake yourself up.

"You did great momma," Maria praised, pushing the hair back behind you as she crouched down, behind her Ben was playing with Batman next to a kid with a toy car, "You should get some rest"

"No I'm okay," You shook your head as if it would fling the drowsiness away, "I wanna stay awake until Jesse is back"

"I know," Maria couldn't hide the pity in her eyes as she looked over you and the baby. She knew how you felt, not knowing if Tommy was okay or not, "How about you just rest your eyes?"

"Promise to wake me when they're back?" Eyes already closing as you positioned yourself to lean against a crate as you held the baby.

You were drifting off before Maria could even respond.

•

When you woke up again you heard hushed voices and the cellar was much quieter than before you'd fallen asleep. You moved carefully, feeling the baby breathing against your chest.

When you opened your eyes you saw Ben jumping around the now empty cellar, not a care in the world. He was talking louder than the others, telling a story about Batman saving the day.

Your eyes shot open as you realized everyone was gone. When you leaned up you could see Maria, Tommy and Jesse.

Jesse.

He had his arms crossed over his broad chest, fingers drumming nervously on his skin as he listened to Maria talk.

He must've heard you move against the crate because he was leaving the married couple and rushing to your side.

As he came into full view you felt a sense of pure relief wash over you at the sight of him so close again. He set his gun down on the ground before crouching down in front of you.

"Hi" He breathed, eyes locked on you before falling to the blanket in your arms.

"Hey"

"Are you okay?" His hand slid against your cheek, cradling your face. You leaned into it, feeling the warmth in the otherwise cool cellar.

You nodded, pursing your lips as you sat up slightly, still feeling a little rough. You glanced at him as he moved to sit at your side. He watched intently as you pulled the blanket down exposing the face of the tiny human.

"You did so good" He gushed, reaching out to touch her tiny hand, before looking to you and pressing a kiss to your severely chapped lips, "You're amazing"

His doting always made you feel like a love sick teenager. But now, the way he admired you and the baby, it made your heart soar.

"Jesse, do you wanna hold your daughter?"

"Daughter?" He blinked, absorbing what you said, staring at the baby in your arm before looking back to you. You nodded, tears pricking your eyes as you watched him hold his arms out.

When you set her in his arms he nearly melted against the wall, moving carefully to get her cozy against him.

You didn't have to coach him on how to hold her, Jesse was an expert on holding babies, making visits to little newborns whenever Tommy announced a new birth in the town.

For the first time since you'd given birth to her, your hands were free and you were able to sit up fully next to him.

"Hi baby," He whispered, rocking her ever so gently, "My girl, it's nice to finally meet you"

You were able to fully look at him without the distraction of the baby in your arms. He looked like hell and smelt of smoke. The shirt that he'd been wearing when he came downstairs so many hours before, was now torn with a large hole near the bottom. His hair was messy and he had new cuts and bruises across his visible skin.

Tommy and Maria appeared in front of you two, watching fondly as Jesse cooed to her.

"You did good kiddo" Tommy smiled, reaching out to ruffle your already messy hair. He looked just as rough as Jesse, blood stains on his flannel shirt and a slight limp when he walked. "She picked one helluva night to come"

"I couldn't have done it without Maria" You smiled, leaning back against the wall next to Jesse so you could peer over at your baby.

"A girl born under a full moon and an attack of infected," Maria hummed, with Tommy's arm draped over her, "This one will keep you on your toes"

You smiled at that, forgetting that all those hours ago that you saw the full moon up on the night sky.

There was a moment of silence that fell in the cellar and you glanced up the stairs where the sun was peeking through the windows of the restaurant and spilling down into the room.

"How did we do?"

Tommy opened his mouth to respond before Jesse was stopping him, looking up at him and then to you, "I'll tell you all about it later"

It was Jesse's way of not ruining the moment. Your moment. He just wanted to enjoy this.

"What did you name her?" Jesse asked, changing the subject as she began to move her fingers around his thumb.

"Oh—Oh!" Ben suddenly entered the conversation, running at full speed across the cellar floor to Jesse, before Tommy caught him and picked him up off the ground, "Can I tell him?"

"Yes Ben, you tell him" You smiled, bringing your hand to Jesse's bicep and impatiently waiting for the little boy to speak.

"So you know Batman right?" Ben asked, hanging from his father's shoulders as he spoke.

Jesse nodded, looking between you and the kid with a puzzled look. Probably wondering what Batman villain Ben had talked you into.

Penguin? Poison ivy? The joker?

"Well he has a sidekick, his name is Robin and he goes around helping Batman fight al—"

Jesse's head snapped to you, finally piecing it together as Ben continued to talk, now hanging upside down from his father's grasp.

"Really?"

"Really," You smiled, cheeks growing sore at the motion. "After your mom"

"—and Batman's sidekick" Ben hollered as Maria and Tommy moved up the stairs to give you some privacy.

You shook your head, giggling at the little boy before you turned back to Jesse who was staring at you with a look you didn't fully recognize.

"What's wrong?"

"I should've been here," Jesse sniffled, moving his head in the other direction where the bloody blankets lay in the corner, "You were scared and you needed me here—"

"You kept us safe" You insisted calmly, hand rubbing slowly on his arm, noticing a large bruise forming that you would ask about later, "All that matters is that you're here now"

He looked back at you, tears staining his cheeks as he continued to cradle Robin in his arms. You didn't let him speak again, worried he would continue to beat himself up. Instead you moved in to kiss him again, tasting the saltiness of his tears as his lips moved against yours.

The kiss covered everything that needed to be said. The fear, the regret, the happiness.

You giggled against his lips when the sound of Robin fussing echoed around the room.

"She's very talkative" You pressed a kiss to his neck before turning your attention to her as Jesse rocked her, falling perfectly into dad mode.

"She's perfect" He sighed, admiring her features as he run a light finger over her forehead.

"She is," You moved closer to rest your head against his shoulder, both of you staring down adoringly at the little one, "I can't believe she's ours"

He rested his head against yours, a sound of complete relief falling from his lips.

"Oh and by the way, that thing you read about orgasming during the pregnancy is false"

"Huh?" Jesse chuckled, looking up from Robin.

"You know, when you said orgasming would help with labor or whatever," You lifted your head to look at him, "It didn't help, like at all"

"Oh—" Jesse's eyes got big as he realized what you were referring to, "I never read that anywhere"

"What?" You laughed, smacking at his leg as to not disturb your baby.

"I just like eating you out"

#jesse the last of us #jesse tlou #the last of us #tlou hbo #tlou2 #young mazino #hbo max #isabela merced #joel tlou #the last of us hbo #x reader #x y/n

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heartyluv · 29 days ago

Note

Hii I wanted to make a request!! I love your work. I’ve been following it the past few days, and you’ve practically been my distraction during finals. As I’m going through finals right now, I’d like to make a request that is vaguely connecter to exams.

As someone who has been struggling with ADHD her entire life, I find it extremely taxing to focus. These past few days, I’ve studied for hours only to recieve the most average results due to my inability to focus. I end up fiddling with random items on my desk, playing with water from a faucet, zoning out without even realising it, etc, and I’ve had full on mental breakdowns because of it. Thus, I was thinking, is it okay for me to request a Sylus and Caleb fic where reader, overwhelmed by her inability to focus, flops down into their arms and bursts into tears? It doesn’t have to be about studying for an exam— it can be about anything. And additionally (if I may), what if reader mentions to them (especially Sylus) “Now I understand why you don’t want me to get involved in your affairs. I can’t even focus.”

Thank you for your time!

Note: Oh my luv, I’m more than glad to write this for you. I hope this makes you feel better, even if it’s just a little. Know that you’re absolutely amazing and that beautiful mind of yours is just as perfect. Thank you so much for being here. I luv you and I’m incredibly proud of you! I believe in you so much.

Creds to @/cafekitsune for the dividers!

Warning: A little bit of self deprecation, but Sylus and Caleb make it all better.

Caleb

You were supposed to be packed and ready to move out a week ago. Instead, your important items were unpacked and in disarray, your miscellaneous items are all over the place, and you didn’t have it in you to fix any of it.

Every time you picked up a box to start filling it up, you found yourself opting for your phone instead, saying that you just needed a small break. Five minutes of scrolling turned to an hour and an hour turned into you not touching anything else for the rest of the day. You felt defeated, incapable of finding a solution. It made you feel weak.

You and your boyfriend made the decision to move in together and Caleb was handling everything. Being the loving man he was, he didn’t care that you needed more time. He wanted you to make sure you were absolutely ready. He was ready to pay to get your stuff over to him and to send you food everyday so that you could focus on packing instead of trying to feed yourself. All you had to do was put your shit in boxes and you couldn’t even do that.

It was another repeat of this behavior today, but this time, it was so overwhelming that you couldn’t stop crying. It really struck your emotions when you were trying to see what you were keeping and what you were throwing out, but then you got to the point where you wanted to get rid of it all. You wanted to throw out your things, all the plushies Caleb ever won for you, the hoodies he gave you—basically anything that you didn’t already have ready to go, you wanted it gone completely. That was how frustrated you were with yourself and your lack of focus.

When the reality of what you were thinking settled in after you gave yourself a millisecond to calm down, your body legitimately shut down. You fell on your bed in a heap of tears, sobs racking your body.

You were so out of it that you didn’t hear your door being unlocked and open. You didn’t hear Caleb walk into your apartment calling for you. It was only when he called your name in worry when he found you in your room, that the realization of his presence washed over you.

“Baby?” he exclaimed with concern, stepping over the empty and half filled boxes.

You looked up in exhaustion, your eyes red and nose stuffy. Warm tears fell down your cheeks when he sat down next to you, scooping you up. You threw yourself into his strong arms, crying into his neck while he soothed you. His gentle cologne and natural scent calmed your brain in a way you haven’t had in what felt like a long time.

“Talk to me, pretty,” he cooed, kissing your head. “You weren’t answering my calls all day, so I got worried and came to you. What’s going on?”

“I’m so overwhelmed, Caleb,” you choked out, shaking your head from both embarrassment and vulnerability. “I can’t focus, I can’t finish one thing…All I do is leave everything incomplete. I don’t know what to do, I don’t know why it’s so hard…”

“You lean on me, that’s what you do,” he said firmly, his tone laced with love and determination. “You never have to do a thing on your own when you have me.”

“You’ve been doing everything already, and I can’t even do this?” you scoff, your chest tight with emotion. “How can I move in with you, be a good, supporting, and dependable girlfriend when I can’t even pack a fucking box without zoning out..?”

He pulls back to look at you, genuine distress and pain on his face. He hates that you’re talking about yourself like this, that you view yourself like this. He doesn’t care what you struggle with, would never care how much you felt like you had to figure anything out without his help. He would always be your rock, ready to take on all your burdens if you needed him to.

“Then we’ll get it done together.” He holds your face in his hands and you brace one of yours on his wrist, biting your lip from nervousness. “There is nothing that you can’t bring to me, pretty girl. Stop belittling and undermining yourself, because you will always be stronger than you think. I’ll forever be by your side to enforce that mindset, do you understand?”

You nod, your lip quivering because you feel the need to cry again. He brings you close, letting you rest your head on his shoulder.

“Right now,” he whispers, rubbing your back. “I want you to rest and we’ll start handling everything over the next few days. Is that okay?”

“It’s perfect,” you mumble. “I’m sorry you had to see me like this..”

“Don’t even. You have nothing to apologize for.” You close your eyes, feeling the weight of your sadness settle on your bones, making you sleepy.

“I just need you to remember that I am here. I will always be here. Whenever it gets hard, look to me and I’ll show you how easy it can be when we do it together.”

Sylus

You pinched the bridge between your nose when you heard your laptop ping with a new notification.

Another email?

Your job had been more demanding than usual lately and you were finding it hard to keep up. Typically, your workload was fair, but you had times where it would get like this—where no matter how you planned to complete something in a certain amount of time, the expectations kept piling and piling.

When it got stressful, you found it incredibly difficult to focus on the important tasks at hand. You’d respond to emails later than intended, you couldn’t retain the information you were reading even if you looked it over more than three times, and you couldn’t stick with the work at all in the first place.

Instead of doing what you needed to, you found yourself just staring at the screen for long periods of time or trying to find something to give your mind a break, only to never return to what you were supposed to.

You’d click your pen over and over and start to waste your post-it notes by doodling random things. You couldn’t do it anymore and the longer you waited, your work only grew.

As you sat at on the floor, the coffee table covered in incomplete paperwork, another message came through. In fact, it was three. And what were you doing instead of keeping up? You were watching the damn TV. And at this point, you couldn’t do it anymore.

Your head fell in your hands, wet tears gliding down your arms as you felt a headache bloom in your temples. Your inability to focus was costing you, but you couldn’t correct it, no matter how hard you tried.

As your heavy heart beat rapidly in your body, you felt a hand on your shoulder. You looked up to see Sylus looking down at you with his perfect brows furrowed in confusion. He must’ve just finished his work call. At least he was getting things done, you thought briefly.

“Are you overworking yourself again, sweetie?” He gently grips you and the small amount of pressure grounds you, just a little.

“The opposite,” you push out past your tears. “I can’t focus on anything. I haven’t been able to get one thing completed…It all just keeps coming, Sy…”

His ruby red eyes look over you like he’s scanning your body for all the things that are troubling his kitten so that he can eradicate it. He holds his hand out, tilting his head to tell you to stand and come to him.

When your soft hand glides against his large one, he helps you stand.

“I wish you didn’t punish yourself for being human,” he says softly, bringing you close to his hard body. “Perhaps you need to focus on yourself for a little while before you try to give your all to something that can wait.”

He sits on the couch, gesturing for you to climb into his lap. You inhale deeply, feeling the desire to cry spark in you again and can’t control the sob that juts out as you straddle him. He holds your jaw in his hand, using his thumb to brush away your tears.

“I envy and loathe that brain of yours sometimes.” He smiles at you, simply admiring the woman before him.

You press yourself against him, wrapping your arms around his neck. The more you think of what you need to do, the more the tears flow. He wraps you tightly in his arms, knowing that his weight and strength are one of the only things that can make you feel like you’re still you.

“All the times I wanted to help you with your business and your work,” you sniffle. “Now I understand why you tell me no. I get why you always hesitate. If I can’t focus on my own work, how could you ever be able to depend on me? I’d be a liability instead of an efficient addition…”

“Stop.” He leaves no room for argument. “Your value to me will never be based on anything related to something as unimportant and trivial as work. I don’t tell you no because I believe you’re incapable. I tell you no because your safety, peace of mind, and happiness, will never be compromised for the things that I need to do or the things I need handled.”

When you squeeze him tighter, he reciprocates, kissing your neck as you melt into him.

“I just want to do my best.” The salty tears that linger fall onto his shirt, but he’d catch every single one in his hands if it meant he could absorb the things that bring you distress.

You continue. “But how can I when I can’t bring myself to stay on task, Sy? Why do I have to be in my own way?”

“Your best is always delivered because it is being done by you. Nothing you do is mediocre. It never could be.” It’s quiet for a few seconds as he gathers the right words to say.

“You treat yourself as if you’re a superhero instead of a person who needs to make sure that she’s just as catered to as the work she’s doing. Remove yourself from the confines of these unrealistic expectations and lean into the reality. That you are significantly more important than any email,” he kisses your jaw. “Than any task. Than anything that does not serve you in the moment.”

Your breath settles as you digest his words, letting his affirmations seep into your very being. You know he’s right, but that doesn’t stop you from feeling like you’ve failed yourself. But if you listen to him, perhaps you can dig yourself out that hole and keep yourself out of it.

“Let me help you come back to who you are, kitten.” His deep voice rumbles, making you shiver. “You were never intended to do it by yourself.”

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace caleb #caleb x reader #caleb x you #love and deepspace sylus #sylus x you #sylus x reader #lads sylus #lads caleb #heartyluv answers!

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these-written-reveries · 4 months ago

Text

His Remedy

‣ Pairing: König x GN!Reader

‣ Genre: Flangst (angst & fluff)

‣ Summary: When König realizes he has feelings for you.

‣ Warnings: König is an anxious boy 🥺, mention of panic attacks, degrading thoughts

‣ Word Count: 1,452

‣ A/N: König really has a heart of gold, doesn't he? (When you ignore the spine-breaking, ruthless beast he becomes on the field). Sighhh...this sweet gentle giant deserves more love...

➼ König will immediately grow 10x more anxious around you once he realizes he has feelings for you.

• While he is a little more in tune with his emotions than someone like Ghost, it will still take him way too long to realize the depth of his feelings for you.

• He'll be pretty much oblivious, thinking that what he's feeling is just a mix of his usual anxiety and the fact that this pretty person seems to enjoy talking and spending time with him. Of course that's gonna make him extra nervous!

• Only later will the realization hit him like a freight train.

• Suddenly, he's stuttering more when he speaks around you, opting to remain mostly silent so he doesn't make a total fool of himself.

• He's visibly jittery. Between his leg constantly bouncing, his increased fiddling of whatever he gets his hands on, and the fact that he can't seem to hold eye contact with you for longer than half-a second, you begin to grow concerned.

• When you ask him about it, he freaks out, as if you'd caught him red-handed or something.

• It deeply confused you, but you tried your best to soothe him, placing a gentle hand over his.

• König flinched away from you, immediately exiting the space, and leaving you behind feeling all the more hurt, worried, and confused.

• Meanwhile, König was struggling with his overwhelming feelings for you, and the added anxiety that came along with them.

• He was so scared he'd say or do the wrong thing that would make him look bad in front of you, or worse, would upset you or make you look at him differently.

• He liked the way you looked at him. Your eyes always held such sweet tenderness and care for him. He didn't want that to change.

• But now he couldn't even truly enjoy it when you looked at him that way, or your smile, or your laughter, or your voice, or anything about you, because he was so damn anxious all the time!

• It frustrated him. Why couldn't he just act normal?

• His normal self was still pretty quiet and anxious around people, but you were different.

• With you, he felt calm and grounded. He could talk to you freely and you never judged him. In fact, you often complimented him—something he was not used to whatsoever, unless it had to do with his usefulness due to his size and strength, or his other military skills.

• With you, it was never about how useful he was. It was about who he was as a person, his special talents that he rarely shared with anyone else, even his looks—with you calling him handsome, despite the fact that you'd never seen his face before.

• He adored every bit of you so much, and he was so scared of losing what he had with you, that he found himself having near-daily panic attacks over it.

• Never had he been so frightened of losing something until you came into his life.

• He began keeping himself locked away in his room, trying to avoid what his anxiety had convinced him was inevitable...losing you.

• There was no way you'd want to be with someone like him.

• He wasn't good enough for you. There were way better people out there in the world.

• You were probably mad at him anyway since he stormed out on you the last time he saw you.

• He already messed everything up.

Was für ein Blödmann!

Stupid, stupid, stupid!

*Knock, knock*

König froze, slowly peeling his hands away from his head as he glanced up at the door. He didn't say a word, hoping if he didn't, whoever it was would leave so he could go back to panicking in peace.

"K-König? Are you there?"

Your sweet voice rang through the door. König breathed it in like a breath of fresh air, his body relaxing just slightly, as if a warm blanket had been placed over his tense shoulders.

Until his rapidly beating heart decided to ruin the moment, bringing him back to reality.

He groaned, placing his hands over his face once more.

Another small knock could be heard, followed by the doorknob being jiggled.

"Oh, you are there. Sorry if you're sleeping. I'm just worried about you, and I wanted to check on you. I-I guess I'll come back later..."

König's heart clenched at the thought of you worrying about him. It saddened him, but more importantly, it filled him with a sense of hope.

Maybe he hadn't fucked everything up...yet.

He stood from the bed, just as your footsteps began to fade away.

He reached for the doorknob and swung open the door.

"Wait!"

König quickly felt like hiding once you turned to look at him, your face morphing into something almost unreadable as you blinked at him.

Why did you seem so...shocked?

Scheiße!

He immediately closed the door upon realizing he had forgotten to put his mask on before revealing himself to you. His grip on the handle tightened, his eyes squeezed shut, no air entering or exiting his lungs as he remained still as a statue behind the door, wishing he could disappear completely.

Then came your sweet voice again; closer now, as you had positioned yourself on the opposite side of the wooden wall between you.

"König? You okay?"

König's head fell forward in resignation, his forehead hitting the door with a thump.

"No," his muffled voice answered, just loud enough for you to hear.

"I'm sorry for looking! I should've looked away…" you said.

Just as he suspected. You were completely put off by his looks. Now you were simply comforting him out of pity because you were too nice to tell him he's ugly and—

"I guess I was too shocked by...how beautiful you are."

What?

He knew by the sound of your voice that you were flustered. You really meant what you said.

Of course you did. You'd never once lied to him. He loved that about you.

He loved you.

And you just called him beautiful.

He didn't know how to respond.

The door creaked open, revealing König's nervous face. You offered him a small, reassuring smile.

"Hi."

König couldn't help the smile that began to overtake his pouted lips. You were too damn cute.

"Hi."

Silence fell between the two of you once more.

He watched as your eyes scanned over his face. This time, he let you.

"Guess I really was right, calling you handsome all this time, huh?" you joked, beaming up at him.

He couldn't take it anymore. His heart felt like it was going to explode.

"Please don't leave…" he spoke in almost a whisper.

Your eyebrows furrowed. "What? 'Course, I won't leave. Not unless you want me to."

"No, I—...You might want to be far away from me when you hear what I'm about to say. But, I don't want you to. I-I don't want to lose you. But I can't keep it from you anymore. I…" he trailed off, his throat beginning to constrict as his breathing grew more heavy.

His shoulders slumped as he sighed, looking down between the two of you.

You took a step closer, forcing him to step back enough for you to enter the room and shut the door behind you. Once inside, you took another step towards him, grabbing his hand before he could back away, keeping him tethered in place as you looked up at him.

"I won't leave," you repeated, your voice firm, but gentle.

Your thumb traced over the back of his hand, and this time, it soothed him.

You waited patiently, your eyes filled with the sweet tenderness and care he grew to cherish so much. This time, he allowed himself to get lost in it.

This time, he allowed the words to slip freely from his lips.

"I love you."

His words caused your breath to hitch, your eyes scanning over his as you processed his confession.

The silence wasn't long, but every second felt like years to König; each one making him want to curl into himself more.

He closed his eyes and awaited your rejection.

As the seconds dragged on, no words were spoken, yet a thousand were said in your following actions.

A small squeeze of his hand.

A gentle pull.

Soft lips against his scarred knuckles.

König couldn't breathe; and this time, it was in a good way.

Only when he opened his eyes again did you finally say the words aloud.

"I love you too."

• From that moment on, König was finally set at ease. Your love was the remedy to his bleeding heart; the calm to the raging storm in his mind.

• König decided then, that this time, and every time after, he'd love you fearlessly.

➼ And never would he cease in his mission to be the remedy you need.

➼ Main Masterlist ➼ Request Info

‣Taglist: @jslittlebirdie @alittlesmartcookie

‣ If you’d like to join the taglist for König, let me know by sending me an ask/message, or comment on this post!

#könig #konig cod #konig mw2 #könig x reader #konig x reader #konig fluff #konig fanfiction #call of duty modern warfare 2 #cod mw2 #kalistawrites

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sturnioz · 10 months ago

Note

"don't feel nothin' towards the kid" huh. well maybe shy!reader overheard him say that n gets rlly sad bc she's falling for him :(( n when fratboy!chris tries to talk to her she shuts down because she thinks he doesn't like her :/ idk i'm hungry for some angst

note. kinda went long n angsty on this one. i am sorry (im not actually im really not)

you shouldn't be upset. truthfully, a part of you knows you have no right to feel this way. your friend had warned you from the start that chris wasn't the relationship type — that he prefers meaningless hook-ups over commitments and feelings.

but hearing him say it blatantly out loud, it stung, tearing through you like a jagged knife. the weight of his words settled on you heavily, each syllable echoing in your mind, and you felt your sensitive heart shatter into pieces., leaving a hallow ache in your chest and a lump in your throat, tight and suffocating.

your tears were already spilling over and dripping down your cheeks as you solemnly turn around make your way back up to his room, the dim light of the hallway making you feel even more suffocated. you wanted to go leave, to go home to the comfort of your own room, but your car wasn't here and the darkness outside was too frightening for you to walk alone.

you sank down onto the bed, pulling at a loose thread on your sweater, each tug a desperate attempt to distract yourself from your emotions, but quiet sniffles followed by deeper sobs only reminded you of what just happened.

in that moment, you felt stupid, pathetic, like a complete loser for ever hoping for something more — for hoping you could change him. but of course, that only ever happens in the movie, and unfortunately your life is anything but. how could you be so naïve?

you are alone with your thoughts for a little while longer, drowning in your own pitifulness, when the bedroom door creaks opens. chris saunters in so casually, a simple white shirt loose on his frame and sweatpants that hang low on his hips, his hair tousled, and his eyes are clouded and faded from the joint he sparked up earlier.

you can't bear to look at him for too long — you refuse to. instead, you fixate on the wall, your gaze drifting over his posters in hopes to distract yourself as chris moves lazily around the room, rummaging through his desk drawer, the sound of coins clinking and crisp dollar bills rustling sounding like nails on a chalkboard.

"you hungry or what, kid?" he asks, scratching his cheek as he continues to dig through the mess.

it pains you how nonchalant and casual he sounds. it feels like a punch to the gut. how can he be so unfazed to the pain that he has just caused you? you shouldn't be surprised. this is who he is.

"hey. m'talkin' to you." he adds, his voice breaking through your haze.

you swallow hard, the lump in your throat refusing to budge as you still keep your eyes averted, not allowing him to see the hurt on your face. but a small sniffle escapes, and the sound immediately catches his attention. you feel the bed dip as he moves closer, fingers gripping your chin and turning your head to meet his gaze.

his eyes flick over your face, a huff leaving his lips. "what.. what's the matter with you? huh? you — you been watchin' those dumb videos again? told you not to do that, a'ight? fix your face."

chris goes to rub his thumb across your cheeks, trying to wipe away the tears, but you flinch away, opting to use your sleeve instead. his hand drops to the bed, a moment of silence hanging between you two. he shifts, tonguing at his cheek as he watches you with faded eyes that blink slowly, but studies every detail.

"what, uh.. what happened?" his concern sounds so strange to you, and it's clear it's hard for him too, judging by the way his face twitches slightly, his jaw tense. "somethin' happened to you, or what?"

you don't answer him once again, the silence stretching uncomfortably between you.

chris lets out a sigh of frustration, pinching the bridge of his nose as if trying to hold back his own irritation. "look. this — this silent treatment you got goin' on right now isn't workin', yeah? it's... it's bullshit, and i can't help you if you don't talk to me, alright? so — so talk, because this silence is really startin' to piss me off—"

"i want to go home." the words escape you like a whisper, and chris' head jerks back, surprise flickering across his features.

"you.. you wanna go home — like, right now? you wanna go home right now?" chris asks you, his voice laced with disbelief. you nod slowly, hearing him scoff, his disbelief turning into frustration. "the fuck you talkin' about? you don't wanna go home, bun, you — you're stayin' here tonight, remember? with me."

"i just want to go home..."

"did you take anythin'? huh?" chris suddenly asks, grabbing your cheeks again to lift your face, his eyes probing as he examines your bloodshot gaze. "did you go through my stash while i was downstairs? is — is that why your brain is all foggy n' shit? take somethin' on the sly?"

"no! i didn't!" you whine pathetically, pushing his hand away from your face. the tears swell in your eyes again, each drop a reminder of his callous words repeating in your mind. "i want to leave, chris."

"ha..." chris breathes out, his tongue rolling across his teeth as he stares at you for a moment, the disbelief still evident on his features. then he nods, smacking his lips together. "okay, alright. then — then go. you wanna leave s'bad? go."

a flicker of relief washes over you at the thought of finally escaping and going home to be comforted by your own room, to cry as much as you please, but the idea of walking home alone in the fark fills you with dread, an unsettling knot forming in your stomach.

"get that look off your face," chris grumbles as he climbs off the bed, snatching his phone off of his bedside table. he strides over to his desk to keep a distance from you, the tension still thick in the air. "i'm callin' you an uber, then you can fuckin' go."

#ᯓ꒰asks꒱#ᯓ꒰anon꒱#☆ fratboy!chris #☆ shy!reader #꒰ fratboy!chris x shy!reader prompt ꒱

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velvetdolor · 1 month ago

Text

˚✮ cherry boy—boy toy! ˚✮

🎸⋆⭒˚ genre: cheating, drabble series, smut, toxic relationships, angst, light fluff. (part iii. of the scotty doesn’t know drabble series)

🎸⋆⭒˚ pairings: drummer!wooyoung x guitarist! reader x vocalist! seonghwa

wc:5.2k

🎸⋆⭒˚ summary: after a stunt you pulled onstage, wooyoung needs you tonight—even if all hell breaks loose in the process.

drabble warnings: backstage sex, improper use of a dressing room, cumshot, sex toys, cock ring, crass language, brief fxf action, unprotected sex, realization, exhibitionism, slapping, slight breath play, degrader! woo, onstage covert orgasm, emotions?, and oral (f x m receiving)

masterlist

previous: [be quiet and drive, seonghwa’s pov]

next: [sextape]

“You’re back on in twenty!” The stage crew wheeled in sound kits and untangled extension cords, flying in from different directions. People passed each other in a flurry, and you hear the distant chants of the arena buzzing with a full crowd.

Wooyoung and you are a tangle of limbs, stumbling in and quickly shutting the dressing room door. The chaos from outside of the door only dims slightly as you breathe heavily against each other’s mouth and pull off faux leather and fur. “You’re such a tease—you know that?” Wooyoung’s panting, a couple of platinum blonde strands falling into his mouth as he gazes at you in frustration. You still haven’t gotten over the sudden change of aesthetic he’s had while on tour and bite his bottom lip; already soaked through your thin panties. The vanity mirror shakes at your combined weight being thrown onto its edge and you pepper wet kisses down his throat. He sighs blissfully against your partially exposed shoulder and runs his hands down your silhouette

Deciding to be a little ballsy, you pull away to reach for your lipstick and tilt Woo’s head slightly to have a decent view of the mirror. After reapplying it, you pull him in for another wet kiss— tongues lace and untie, and you taste the faint trace of cherry chapstick on the ridges of your teeth. You intentionally stain the skin above his choker and the collar of the cropped white button up his stylist had chosen so he’d give off a “punk schoolboy” vibe. A hand drifts down the lining of his abdomen and stuffs itself into his boxers, pushing past a semi-rough patch of hair, slinking its fingers around the base of hot intimacy.

He groans when you pull his cock out of the tight confines of his red leather pants, feeling like he could finally breathe if it weren’t for the looming determination in finding a way to fuck your brains a satisfactory amount to be able to hold off with until after the show. Then he’ll finally be able to exact full justice and fuck you raw into next week, damning himself to an array of varying evil’s Hwa’s capable of.

Seonghwa’s been on your asses even more nowadays—he’s had his own fun in the last two years after the band made its big break, but now he seems almost…. uncomfortable about your involvement with him. Woo's still not sure what’s got his panties in a twist now—Woo just hates the fact that his face pays the price, but girls seem to like the rugged look from time to time, and so he opts to just smile and take it.

You laugh when you see the ring squeezing the base of his cock tightly and at the cute throb-and-twitch combo it gave when you glanced at it. Of course he’d wear shit like this for the fuck of it.

You had to give it to the guy. Woo’s got a really pretty dick.

A small push causes your nose to fall dig into his pubes, and you move to glance up at him but are suddenly distracted by the pretty veins decorating his lower abdomen—trailing down to his pelvic bone before another throb tilts your head towards the bead of pre-cum sliding its way down his flushed red shaft.

“For the love of God, woman—please.” Wooyoung whines a little and you squeeze your legs at the unintentionally adorable sound.

Your mouth moves before your mind acknowledges it and slides him down your throat before his cock tucks itself nicely against your voice box, lips hitting the rubber of his cock ring.

Saliva pools and drips off of his balls—your throat already being accustomed to the fit of him inside of you. Squelches accompany Wooyoung’s unrestrained moans as he moved to fuck your throat, raising a singular hand to squeeze your cheeks together to brand the image into the back of his eyes. He keeps his other palm at the nape of your neck, holding you down as you instinctively try to pull away from him, gagging. Tears drop onto his bare thighs and he wipes it off with a thumb to stick in back into your mouth.

“Fucking useless, can’t even take that amount of cock? What’ve we been doing for the last three years—having romantic conversations?” His words are snide and his upper lips quirks up mockingly before continuing

“You’re getting piped by two of the arguably best cocks in our industry on the regular and this is what you have to show for it?” Wooyoung giggles, still somewhat elated about the accidental arrangement he’s fallen into. It’s messy but the messier it gets, the less he feels bad about not being guilty at all for fucking his best friend’s girlfriend. Well, that’s the simple part. A wrinkle forms on his forehead when his thoughts almost wander off the more complicated edges of your dynamic, before sticking his fingers to hit the back of your throat. Tears well in your eyes as you choke back a cough.

Your eyebrows scrunch together in disbelief before you reach up and smack his balls, grinning as he hisses and notice the twitch his cock gave out. “Oh, so you’re into cock and ball torture. Got it.”

Wooyoung’s eyes darken, and he grabs onto your hair to still you from slotting your mouth back down onto him. You quirk a brow in distaste, knowing you had max ten minutes till showtime. He tightens his grip on your hair, before he slides a fist around his own cock, pumping himself. You almost piss at the sight of his eyes rolling back, and head thudding against the vanity mirror, sleek of his hair falling gracefully against the cold surface.

“Just watch. You’re getting nothing else.” He dryly says, still jerking lightly at himself before lazily raising his head back up to catch your eyes.

“Keep your mouth open.” Your eyes flicker with realization and a fat grin splits your face open.

Oh, this is a free show disguised as discipline.

The jerks of his hand grow erratic as he stares down at you, an intense focus shuttering down onto your body as he pumps at his nerves. He brushes a thumb against the reddened tip, spreading his slick and turning to fist and tug at it. An unintended shout leaves his throat as his high approaches and moves to roll off his cock ring—thick dollops of cum landing near your left eye and cheek. His golden body beads with sweat, crop top riding up his abdomen, and you can’t resist the urge to lean down and run the flat of your tongue at the prominent veins dancing on his skin. His stomach rolls into itself, clenching and unclenching at the sensation as he softens.

Wooyoung leans down to lick into your mouth with a sharp grin “Clean that up before your boyfriend finds you in here lookin’ like a total hot mess.” He says before untangling his fingers from your hair.

A distant shout causes you both to turn towards the door “Shows on in five!” and you sluggishly rise before pushing Woo out of the way to get a glance at yourself in the mirror.

You look positively fucked out.

Wooyoung sends you a wicked smile, dodging a hand that attempting to wipe away your lipstick stains from his skin “Looks pretty. Don’t wipe it off.” He mumbles casually before exclaiming in sudden reminder.

“Wait—before you go.” He shuffles through a nearby tote bag before abruptly lifting a hand to brush a cold silicone coated bullet against your entrance, using the excess remnants from your untouched cunt to ease it into you with a shiver.

“—just pop your underwear back on and I can make you cum in a way you’ve never experienced before.” You immediately clench around the metallic contraption, its silicone tail easing your worries of it somehow losing its way in or out of you.

You briefly notice the small flicking of his wrist before an overwhelming buzzing pulses near your cervix—and immediately you clench your tummy, flinch forward, and unconsciously pulling your thighs in to mash against themselves. “What the hell?” You mutter, owl-eyed in shock.

Wooyoung chimes back with maniacal delight

“Yeah, I bet this is something even that son of bitch hasn’t thought of.” While turning off and pocketing the remote with a small yawn.

You’re astonished but refuse to pussy out. A part of you wants to argue it’s way out of your pride—unsure if the night could end well if either the crowd or Hwa catches on.

Wooyoung stands and licks a bead of sweat off your jawline before fixing his facial expression into a sudden, convincing coolness—pressing a kiss against your temple to leave the dressing room first before anyone noticed. The sudden chanting of your names rolls into the room like waves, and you quickly dab at your face while smudging your eyeliner, so it looked a little more intentional rather than fucked.

The show’s about to start.

Realizing that your current outfit’s a no-go, you quickly thumb through the costume rack, eyes brightening when you find exactly what you’re looking for—the mini skirt of every perverts dreams. Devilishly, you slide your panties off, throwing them to the opposite side of the room and popping on your favorite platforms before sliding out of the room to click your way towards the stage entrance.

You break into a wide grin, stomach churning with anticipation. It’s been two years since the band was scouted at Lucky’s when a record label caught wind of the rising popularity of your small dive bar band after a video of Seonghwa undressing during a performance at a show went viral.

Sex sells and the band had the talent to match the appeal, yet the pre-show anxiety never seemed to change.

You rub your fingertips together, callouses kissing at each other when you the faint trace of a hand on a sliver of skin just below your ass grazes you

Platinum blonde hair obscures your vision again as Wooyoung leans over to whisper into your ear.

“That’s a little short, don’t you think? Guess you don’t mind being a slut for a fancam or two.” He scoffs a little and flicks his fingers up to jiggle the plump skin, before winking and slow jogging away once a sound technician called for him, replying with an exhausted “yeah, yeah—i’m comin.”

Oh, you’ll make sure of that.

To your surprise, things never faded off with Woo. Things didn’t necessarily officially end with Hwa either, but you really didn’t want to think too deeply about anything—about how fucked up the situation is and where your heart's gone.

The fans enjoyed shipping the pair of boys more than they enjoyed shipping you with either of the men you were fucking—but you were pleased with your title as the “girl crush guitarist”, renowned for crushing the souls of women and eye-fucking strays during solos.

Safe to say—anyone who interacted with you at a show walked away a little slicker between the legs than they originally arrived.

“You’re on in three!” A burly staff member bellowed, holding three fingers high in the air. A shoulder smacks into yours and you stumble a bit, narrowing your eyes at Seonghwa’s cold figure as he struts towards the stage entrance.

Shaking your head with a grumble, you follow after the vocalist you haven’t spoken to in the last few days. You forget why exactly you fought this time in the first place.

Man, fuck that guy.

Wooyoung arrives next to you after taking a deep breath

“Ready, pretty girl?”

“Never that. What about you, drummer boy?”

Woo simply chuckles before saying “So ready— I’m literally bricked up because of it.” You quickly gawk at the prominent bulge decorating his faux leather bell bottoms, all the more obvious due to the lack of underwear before the stagehands counting down pulls you from your disbelief.

A loud laugh leaves you as the spotlight washes over the crew. A deafening cry flows in from all sides and the anticipation from the crowd starts tapping in. Seonghwa grabs the mic, a starlight grin striking like a match across his features as he lifts a gloved fist up into the air

“Are you guys fucking ready tonight?”

The electric strum of your guitar stretches the frequency like a lightning strike, purring and threading through the hot wire crowd with delight. Your red lips part with a sigh, small laughs leaving you as your persona arises through adrenaline’s beckon.

Wooyoung teases a slow momentum before tensing his muscles to hit the drums at the speed of his own heartbeat, orgasmic bliss decorating his features at the nearly unrivaled feel of being center stage.

Seonghwa’s lungs part, cave, and soar— mesmerizing the crowd and luring them closer to the barricades. Undergarments and tops are thrown onto the stage, and during an interlude you paraded and wrapped a stray thong around your tuning gears like a trophy. You’re euphoric and even Seonghwa’s minute flirting with a hot blonde at the barricades didn’t leave a single scratch at the surface of your unbridled emotions.

This, however, served as a delicate reminder—and you brightened before readjusting your position on stage, scooting a little closer to Woo’s immediate line of sight. You drop your guitar pick on purpose and ease your self into a kittenish bend, smiling once you hear his drums kick off beat by accident during his personal warm up for the next song—drum kit mimicking the stuttering of his own heartbeat. You could hear him groan frustratingly into his palms at the sight of you baring it all out just for him to see (and possibly some of the stage crew), and the notes ease into a whine that sounded an awful like “why god” but there was no way to be sure during the chaos of it all.

As the tiny interim nears its end, you sway your hips to the beat once Seonghwa riles up the crowd for the last few songs on the line up. Without realizing it, your body flows into a trance-like state of bliss and being—the crowds cheering fades away and bleeds into a haze of frequencies and electrical currents. A sudden buzz near your cervix instigates the roll of your hips in response and you briefly turn your neck mid-strum to catch Wooyoung’s unreadable eyes, before moving your gaze to the devilish upturn in his lips.

The speed intensifies and you feel like you’re drowning in a lukewarm pool of water, melting into your own skin like milk and velvet blue, and sway into a sea of uncharted chords and currents. Neon lights drape onto your silhouette, highlighting every sweat stained surface like diamond and starlight, and your head’s tilted up to the ceiling like you’re begging God for a good thrill that lasts a lifetime.

The crowd bleeds away and Woo’s eyes settle on your sinfully angelic form, softly beaming like bioluminescence with boy-like wonder, and it’s settled. He needs you tonight and not in secret—even if he ends the night only able to live off a liquid diet for the next two weeks and a bloody eye socket.

He wants your body splayed onto his vanity, his satin bedsheets or in the fog of his shower because he likes tasting your sweat, and doesn’t care if Hwa hears the two of you or his heartbeat in the process. If he’s anything at all, Woo knows he’s at least a good body—malleable to form any imaginable good time and more.

Wooyoung’s sweat drips onto the films of his drums, splashing and sparking under the light as he pushes through the ache of his arms and legs—tightening and pounding his humdrum heartbeat away with a maniacal grin. Tonight’s going to be absolutely chaotic and he feels it.

Seonghwa moves towards you in your state of performance delirium, pressing his temple against yours to blaringly sing the lyrics to a song he’d written in your room years ago, eyes meeting your own half-lidded ones to peer intensely—the fever of the moment sends you further into a boiling point as he threads his hand in your hair to tug lightly, while maintaining the intense eye contact. The mic’s still pressed against his lips, catching every single damningly charmed word falling from his venomous lips. His scent clouds your mind for a moment and you float in the fog, catching light of his fire. The high breaks through your body, no substance needed.

Hwa hoots out a final note, moving his hand to release you and the magnetically seductive performance for the crowd, before he notices a strikingly familiar expression glazing over your eyes. The crowds roar morphs into a shrill and sharp ringing, all white noise when he turns his head instinctively to witness Wooyoung’s hungry mouth stretch open into a smile that looked ready to bite and tear into your throat even from afar—a nearly imperceptible movement came from his right hand that wasn’t currently in use due to the slow return to tempo, as a smooth moan tugged itself out of your mouth, and into the air.

The sound lost itself to the undergoing current of melody, bleeding into your well-crafted succubi-like stage persona as you tried to contain the convulsing of your body, and breath out a small and sudden cry. A tear trail-blazes your cheekbone; half drunk on pleasure and your own sweat. Hwa feels his heart catch in his throat, voice box squeezing and suffocating his arteries. That look—he knows that look and he’s not the cause on its other end.

In attempts to keep your end of the song going, you fluidly fall to your knees—playing an impromptu array of chords and star beam at the adrenaline and beauty of feeling so lost in the motions of your own body. The crowd goes wild at the sway of your hair and the slow grind of your lips, post orgasmic in a way that was only for the sake of performance.

In your bliss, you somehow forget Hwa for the first time since you’ve known him and a familiar hunger blooms inside of you— a lust for life you didn’t realize you’d lost so long ago in the process of loving him.

Wetness trickles down your thighs and your solo ends with the delicious compulsion to crawl towards the crowd, beckoning the hot blonde Seonghwa’s been sugaring up by the barricade towards you before leaning in to ask for a kiss.

The crowd erupts and you smile at the cherry flavor of a pretty girl's mouth— not having realized how he took away your love for women the moment he made you feel like you had to compete with them. Today, he didn’t matter, and you turn to the culprit whose madness accidentally spurred on your sudden epiphany.

Wooyoung sits by his drum kit, spinning his sticks wildly in his fingers with that euphoric look on his face, suddenly bellowing a laugh

“Save some for the rest of us!” He smoothly followed with a small and proud smile.

The show ended with Seonghwa’s dark eyes blanketing over your form like a disappointed and scorned God.

Wooyoung pulls you into him mid-laughter as you trudged down the steps and into the backstage area. The pair of you heave out labored breaths, basking in the afterglow of the show when Seonghwa pummels into you both with his familiar storm.

“What the fuck was that?” He grabs at Woo’s collar, eyes blood shot and murderous. “I let you get away with fucking my girlfriend a couple of times to let her have her fun and you think you can pull shit like this?”

Wooyoung’s relaxed, fox-like face unmasks into an unfamiliar expression as he stares strangely empty at Seonghwa.

“Get away?” He laughs dryly, unimpressed before plastering a reckless grin onto his face.

“Girlfriend? Let her? Wake up, Hwa. It’s been years since you guys were really together. Give up the ruse— let the girl do what she wants, since you clearly don’t take the time to consider it for her.”

Woo’s eyes lift to meet yours and you’re stunted for a moment. Fucked up things happened left and right in the last couple of years, some that are solely yours to blame, but the others? No one had ever defended you against the hurts you weren’t responsible for. Not to Hwa’s face. Woo’s been taking every punch to pay for his own crimes willingly and in desperate searches for bloodied knuckle thrills to ease his fucked up mind—but today was different.

He was willing to fight back for you and neither of you really knew why.

Sure, Wooyoung was a boytoy—the best one in the industry and he thrived off of common chaos and morally grey hedonism, but nowadays, he was your boytoy most of all.

And the years made it harder for him to keep quiet after every Sunday eventually bled into nursing your emotional wounds on the other days of the week too.

Seonghwa breaks your reverie with his gaze—one that still held power that could’ve been measured on a Richter scale, as he waited for you to either lash out or pull him away to talk to him one on one finally.

But you do neither.

It’s what you do next that douses Seonghwa in the discomfort of heartache he’s tried his best to avoid these last few years— the shade of your silhouette pulling away from him without that look of love in your eyes, softly tugging his hands away from Woo’s collar so that you could thread your own in the said boys hand and lead him back into the privacy of your dressing room without a single word.

In your gentleness and silence, he immediately knows that he’s already lost you and doesn’t know how hard he’d have to struggle to find you so you could make your way back together—unsure if he could drive you both from the destined doom again.

A few management members witness the scene, worrying for the future of the band that only recently stepped into the limelight of success.

Once you get to the dressing room, Wooyoung almost shakes you off, forcing out a laugh

“Fuck, I’m sorry—really don’t even know why I said all of that.” When the words leave him, he looks flabbergasted, as if he’d moved without thinking and couldn’t be comfortable caught dead with acknowledging what or why something suddenly came out. His eyes fluttered around the room in panic, hand resting at his waist as the other ruffled his blonde hair anxiously. His chest rises and falls quickly, heart unsure of what it's doing. Woo’s accessories rattled against each other and you're completely still, not knowing what to say or do in this situation.

“No, I appreciate it Woo—Seriously. No one’s ever defended me before.” There was something uncharacteristically soft about you that intensified Wooyoung’s panic. Your jaggedness wilted in appreciation, and he’s never seen this look on you, barely realizing how beautiful you’d be even without all of that enticing fury drenching and drowning you—increasingly terrified by the fact that he thought you to be achingly beautiful in your honest sorrow.

No, he couldn’t see this. He didn't want to and didn't like how it made him feel like he wanted to be more than a body to you.

Woo doesn’t do romance—he fucks girlfriends that aren’t his and is the cookie cutter boy toy of everyone’s dreams, but why did his hands want to hold yours for a little longer? He fucking hates clammy hands.

He tells himself that the trembling of his arm’s caused by how hard he’s pushed himself during the show and not at all because of how he’s fighting himself from reaching towards you.

The inner conflict stains the entirety of his eyes before he wipes it away immediately, glazing over with the performance of a seasoned professional.

Digging his hand in the dressing rooms complimentary candy bowl, Wooyoung fishes out a dum-dum with a dry ‘aha’ before popping it into his mouth and flinging himself onto the leather couch near the clothing racks. Humming your song “Cherry boy!” casually and rocking his hanging feet to the beat.

You knew what this was.

Everything else about the situation confused you—but a part of you is relieved to see something, albeit achingly—familiar.

This was avoidance.

"She likes the c-c-cherry on my lips.

She's using me like I've done it all

but shit, how do I tell her I've never fucked like this before?

I'm addicted and I can't slip into it,

all red now and I think I'm the boytoy, all fucked out.

C-c-cherry boy—boy toy!"

Soft, casual mumbles leave his lips. The high from earlier disintegrating into a repetitive memory of his current favorite song to perform.

Wooyoung lays his head back onto his hands while shutting his eyes, steeling himself from reacting to the small shuffle of movements drifting closer to him.

He finally loses the battle with dry curiosity and quirks one eye open sneakily, nearly choking on the lollipop at the sight of you lifting your skirt to expose yourself entirely to him, casually flashing straight pussy, and patiently waiting for his little solo to end with an almost innocent look in your eyes.

He squints in suspicion.

You're quite literally Satan incarnate and he questions his taste in women for a moment— wondering what exactly went wrong with him to make him like fucking the shit out of people's girlfriends and girls who punched him when he got mouthy. Was it when his mom dropped him as a baby? She was a sweet lady though, so he couldn’t blame it on a bad upbringing necessarily.

His jaw runs slack at the dry patches between your thighs from your orgasm earlier and how engorged and flush your cunt was from the lack of attention it’s gotten today. Wooyoung practically springs from the couch, convincing himself that it’s his job to redeem himself from neglecting you as an honored and true boy-toy.

He had to touch you to set things right again, leg practically bunny thumping against the velvet carpet with sheer excitement. Nothing more—nothing less. Right? A victorious and cat-like grin slathers itself thick onto his face, satisfied with the momentary alibi.

You shake your hips and your tummy wiggled a bit, the soft mound above your cunt bouncing a bit as you smacked it lightly and tugged it up to expose yourself more.

“You gonna take care of me tonight, Woo?” You slither the words out of your mouth casually, raising a brow at him in question.

God, he needs you like a bullet to the head.

Wooyoung merely kneels, wagging a tongue out before beckoning you to come closer to grind your pussy on it

“I’ve never let you end a hard night alone, have I, pretty girl?” He grins deceptively sweet, all kind and fox-like before he flicks his tongue happily against your clit.

A soft sigh flows out of your mouth, and you thread your calloused fingers through the blonde strands that held tinges of blue in a certain light. God, his rebrand wasn’t supposed to look this good. How can he get even hotter as the years pass?

Woo’s right though— whenever you’d bark at him to come, he’d run to you (and your pussy) come rain, shine, treacherous road, or three hour traffic. One time his pants were unbuckled, halfway to rolling a condom on for a weekend hookup when he heard your special ringtone.

He eventually arrived at yours with a very red handprint on his cheek, drenched from the sudden evening downpour but simply told you that he liked it rough sometimes.

Wooyoung’s hands drift to your hips and grips tightly as he massaged your clit languidly with his tongue, pussy drunk moans tumbling out of his mouth in bliss as he stiffened the muscle to move up and down your slit, Romanesque nose digging into the fat of your pussy.

You unlatched his jaw from you with a squeeze of a hand before making your way to lean towards the vanity mirror, gazing at him through its reflection.

The clink of his chained belt falling to the floor echoed throughout the room and you thank the heavens that your management teams knew enough to not come in whenever you were with one of the boys one on one.

A cold, nimble hand strokes itself across your inner thighs before tugging the bullet from inside of you, maddeningly slow. The other rubs itself against your tummy in teasing circles and he giggle mockingly at the gelatinous string of slick dragging itself out of your body, still attached to the toy.

“Wow, you actually came in front of all those people? Insane.” He teases mildly, sounding almost bored if it weren’t for the Cheshire smile on his face.

Two fingers prod themselves inside before stretching your sides—fluttering you open experimentally. “Good enough, I guess.” He shrugs before slotting himself inside of you entirely. A fucked-out moan leaves your mouth and he laughs at your expression

“You look really dumb, by the way.” His face is flushed, sparks in his eyes as he drags a finger down your spine before leaning down to lick at the sweat forming on its concave.

“Don’t give up on me now. This was supposed to be my present to you.” He chides, dark eyes drifting up to meet yours through the reflection, as a nimble hand drifted upwards to unravel the tying of your corset and pulled down to expose your breasts.

He moans at their natural recoiling and starts with a cervix bruising pace. You laugh a little before asking “Do you ever shut the fuck up, Woo?” A strike immediately hits your right tit and you giggle through the bliss when he shoves four fingers into your mouth, pulling at the internal silken flesh to propel himself forward. You lipstick smears itself onto his palm and streaks onto your cheeks.

“Of course you like that.” Wooyoung rolls his eyes in dry annoyance, trying to stifle the small whimpers building in his throat. You slide his cock out of you and he flinches at the sudden cold draping around him, whines finally spilling from his throat at the disappointment of not feeling you wrapped around him. He instinctively ruts against your ass a little, before you pull his wrist to push him hard onto the leather couch.

Woo’s winded, absolutely enthralled by the way your tummy rolled and creased at your waist, as you move to sit above his hips, feeling the goosebumps raising on your skin with delight. You lean forward to capture his lips in a heated kiss—one that’s chock full of something neither of you wanted to address. You moan lightly against his lips when you slide back onto him and bottom out. Woo’s hips automatically jolt up, wanting impossibly to stuff into you even further.

He slowly rocks your hips against him, shakily breathing out into the crook of your neck, gently guiding your pace for a moment before caving to his own urgency, plowing upwards with a loud clap.

Your body shakes at the force he pulls you down in, pussy flushing a shade of red instantly at the impact. You hold onto your stomach, sending a kittenish grin at him

“You can do better than that, can’t you baby? What’s a drummer for if he can’t beat it up properly?”

In all honesty, you wanted him to fuck you so hard you cried blood and couldn’t walk for a week– and if anyone had the desperate need to pull through to satisfy your glutinous appetite, it’d be Woo.

“Get a load of this guy.” Wooyoung huffs with an exasperated laugh and you follow after, plopping your face onto his neck.

In an instant you feel him tug and grind you down around the fattest part of his cock, and you cry at the intense stretch– eyes rolling back when you could feel his protruding veins as he fucked up into you.

“That’s what bitches like you want, right? To be used like a stupid little cock sleeve?” He punctuates each few syllables with a thrust more brutal than the last, reaching up to slap your tit three times. A cry leaves your red lips, a thrill tearing a smile into your face with a fucked out giggle.

Your brain goes numb when your orgasm is fucked into you, small squeals leaving your throat and desperately slurred out gibberish through a thick wall of saliva. “fuck, fuck, fuck–deeper. Just like that.” You slam your hips down, body shaking at the oversensitivity you’re defiling your body with and Wooyoung’s pace stutters

His hips roll in desperation, the entirety of his body flushed. “Take it. Fucking take it. Want me to cum in you? Want me to knock you up?” Your clit bruises at the weight of impact before replying with a bite. Looking down at him, nodding coquettishly slow.

“You’re such a good boytoy, you know that?” You purr out, licking at his jugular before slipping a hand around the back of his choker–pulling at it to cut a little circulation off.

Tears fill his eyes after a few seconds, and he’s choking out his moans, completely fucked out and high when you reach down to slap his reddened face hard. A high-pitched moan slips out of his voice box “F—I’m cumming. Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Each ‘fuck’ is followed by a sloppy jerk into you, and he pulls out quickly to your dismay– pressing onto your tummy and reaching up to grope the meat of your ass while jerking his cock to cum on the bulge of your stomach.

He’s practically singing into the air, hips still fucking and throbbing into his fist before he throws his head back onto the couch, going limp.

He opens one eye to look at your grinning figure, illuminated by the small warm bulbs in the dressing room that looked like little spotlights and all of its velvet before realizing how incredibly screwed he was.

Sighing, he rolls an arm over his eyes to try and cover your visage.

Cherry boy–boy toy indeed.

and he momentarily wishes his payback was another punch to the face, even if that had him half-dying in a bleak alleyway, because he was confident that he could walk something like that off. (He was experienced in that department and noticed he’d developed a strange case of masochism after enough beatings.)

Karma’s got him good this time and she arrived in the form of lady luck strapped with an electric guitar, and tragically, she was the girl all the rockstars seemed to love.

Author's note: I've sat here for hours typing the word cock again and again, and I'm 100% sure that this was a form of brainwash. LOL

had to think up some really random pop punk-esque lyrics on a whim, so if they’re ass, that’s the point.

fun fact: i got a cherry and a black star tattooed on my ass randomly one night in new york and got shitty lyric inspo when i was trying on a new pair of booty shorts, mid writing sesh. i might conjure a couple of random chords to shoot the shits on my own electric and make it a stupidly funny and ironic song.

i hope this made the woo lovers purr in content and also hope that i was able to give off the same ambiance for the pair as I did for the first drabble, while expanding on it more. hope you guys felt the vibe and energy I desperately wanted to emit. see u hornies soon <3 LOL

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