#Four is not being a dumbass for once

[sillygoofyqueer]

Today, I read a book.

It was one that my mother had been pestering me to read for a while now, telling me that it wasn't like anything she had ever read before - not with adoration or embellishment, my mother isn't that kind of person. She stated it as fact. I didn't believe her, because that is quite the statement to make to your child who has read many-a books. But, I was at my grandma's and at a loss for what to do because my laptop simply wasn't calling to me, so I brought it out of my bag, where it had stayed over the past couple of weeks. I finished it only fifteen or so minutes ago, not having put the book down aside for eating. I understand what my mother meant, now. I don't think I'll be able to sleep until I blurt all of my thoughts about this book somewhere. So, here I am. Imploring you to read the book, and if not - just to listen to me talk about it. I truly do plead that you read this book, because I am highly certain that I am not fully here as I write this, stuck in a world between fantasy and reality as I contemplate everything and nothing. I do not think I will be able to sleep tonight. Not well, anyway. I completely skip out of a lot of things, but I need to talk about it or I might never sleep the same again (this is not me being dramatic, I swear). This book is just how my mother described it: hard to describe, and entirely something else. Do read this book. I'm telling you, you will not regret it. If you won't? Then allow me to tell you about Starless Sea by Erin Morgenstern. (In the reblog, because it's too big otherwise)

[00kittenz]

── “ just an extension cord. ” ( yjw ) 🎮

๑ When you can’t tell if Jungwon’s actually upset with you for ruining his livestream or.. nah, he’s grateful. At least you like to think so.

pair: gamer bf!jungwon ㅊ gf!reader | warnings: smut, pwp, blowjobs and handjobs on stream, raw s.x (DONT TRY THIS AT HOME KIDS !!), clit tease, revenge, giggly jungwon, thigh riding, light degradation, oral (f. rec), quick humour, sudden phone calls ?? | words: 2.2k

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“sunghoon ! god, you’re such a fucking dumbass.” the heated boy rolled his eyes, watching the ‘you lose’ sign appear on his screen. “good fucking game you ding dong.” he groaned loudly, frustrated to the core. everyone in jungwon’s stream knew him as a top tier player, losing made him feel like he let them all down, even though his fans would continue to cheer him on.

luv4evaaa: you got it next game jungwon, fighting !! ♡♡

takenbytheonenonlytoji: agh, how can someone still be so cute when they’re angry ㅠㅠ

jungwonsusedsock: he said ding dong !! HAJHJAHAHH (⁠ﾉ⁠≧⁠∇⁠≦⁠)⁠ﾉ⁠ ⁠ﾐ⁠ ⁠┻⁠━⁠┻

chewybiscuits: hoon and wonie give off such funny sibling vibes i love them sm.. *sigh..* (⁠｡⁠ﾉ⁠ω⁠＼⁠｡⁠)

jungswrld: good game won !! you did your best that’s all that matters !!!

๑ ๑ ๑

his pupils scanned the screen giggling here and there from their remarks. even so, he still wanted to beat sunghoon’s ass for making him lose. “bro it wasn’t my fault ! we were surrounded !!” jungwon stared straight into the camera in disbelief, as if sunghoon could see. “since when was a 2v2 called being SURROUNDED ?” jungwon scoffed taking a sip from his sponsored energy drink. “ready up.”

๑ ๑ ๑

you could hear jungwon yelling and raging in the room down the hall of your shared one, spewing all types of curses and profanities. “such a baby..” you chuckled to yourself. you couldn’t lie, jungwon angry ? definitely had you on the sheets with your legs spread open. if you know you know. and this seems to be one of those situations, although, this time a little flick and rub won’t cut it. his fans knew he had a girlfriend, he introduced you anytime he got a chance. this time however, you wanted to avoid all of that and just get to business. now was the perfect time for that. it was dark meaning the only thing that was lit in his gaming room was his PC.

for some reason his door was open, which explained why you could hear him so clearly. you were supposed to be sneaking in, which meant it was time to go spy kids on his ass ! next thing you knew you were on all fours, like a kitten, crawling your way into his room slowly.. you knew he wouldn’t be able to hear you, but his stream would, so you had to stop every moment it’d go quiet. i guess we could say this mission was about 3 minutes long. anyway, you were under his desk which was all that mattered. you knew he had known you were under there, you’d accidentally bumped his foot trying to lower yourself down on your knees.

which took jungwon by surprise. he screamed, reacting hella dramatically. “what the fuck !” he snatched his headphones off his head pushing back from his desk to scan the area. “bro ? you good ? what’s up?” sunghoon checked on the yelping boy. once he’d seen it was you, holding up a finger to your lips indicating him to keep from telling them you’re currently in the room with him, he’d calmed down, a hand on his heaving chest.

no.1gojostan: ayo ? ┐⁠(⁠´⁠ー⁠｀⁠)⁠┌

iloveboobss69420: AHAHAA WTF ?! UHM ? YOU OKAY ?

lightyagamismom: i rebuke, in the name of heeseung’s booty hairs. ｡⁠:ﾟ⁠(⁠;⁠´⁠∩⁠`⁠;⁠)ﾟ⁠:⁠｡ SAVE, HIM.

“naah, i’m good, just one of my extension cords grazed my leg. thought it was a spider or some shit.” jungwon quickly conjured up a lie, putting his headset back on. he wondered what you were doing down there, and the answer was nothing cause you were attempting to keep your laughter in. his eyes glanced at your sitting figure before looking back at the screen. reading, his eyes dashed through his comments.

“damn, it must’ve had you scared then, i promise you it’s just a cord. don’t need to keep checking kiddo.” sunghoon laughed through his mic.

“haha, funny.” jungwon ran around the map shooting sunghoon.

“stop it ! you’re such a dick !” sunghoon cried.

when you felt that the situation from before had calmed down, you started what you’d planned to do before even coming in this chatty room in the first place. your hands slid slowly against his calves, caressing them over the gray nike sweats he had on. jungwon wanted to look at you so bad, he really did. but to raise suspicion? he’d rather not. although he’d love to show everyone what he could do to you. he’d spare his little fans the sore sight.

continuing, you wrapped your arms around his waist with your head in his lap, hands caressing his lower backside. you could feel his growing bulge on your cheek, your lips coming down to kiss him over his clothed area. jungwon’s body had shivers, tensing up at the very feel of you, he’d gone completely mute from your touch. making him cough out of nervousness.

“jungwon, let’s go north, the leopard villa” sunghoon spun. he tried his best to keep his composure, thinking of ways to help the situation— ending his live abruptly? he would if he could. yet, it just wasn’t normal for him, he could stream for hours on end without any interruptions, his fans would worry if that happened.

“mmhm, good idea, for once..” he tempered a light groan.

while he spoke you’d been busy pulling his waistband down slightly enough for you to bring his shaft into view. the boy pursed his lips feeling your touch on his hard. your hands massaged him slowly, giving it a couple light strokes until it’s been replaced by your salivated mouth. you were limited to a slow pace, that was unless you wanted to be heard. starting off with the tip, your tongue slid across the red texture. you loved his tip the most when it came to his cock, for some reason it was the most satisfying part to mingle with, and it came with different amounts of surprises everytime you greeted it.

“fuck..” he muttered under his breath, he was battling with himself, it was like he was hit with this annoying need to lean back. your head bobbed up and down around his thickness, you were annoyed with the pace, so you quickened it juuuust a little bit, a gag was held at the back of your throat at he pushed on your tonsils.

his breathing was mid hoarse, but who could blame him. poor thing :((

chewybiscuits: urmmm.. is he okay ??.. *worry worry*

munch12340: hey bro ? you don’t sound too well..

catboyjungwon: wait, what happened ???

jungwon’s eyes immediately went to the chat. he felt his reactions weren’t concealed enough, scared that it might look too obvious what he’s currently up to. “hey chat.. i-.. yeah, i’m okay, my stomach just started paining.. badly..” his hand flew to your head as if he was touching his stomach. “damn it, i’m gonna end it here, i’m not.. feeling okay” he lied, sweat beading from his forehead.

“hoon, i’ll see you.. tomorrow? jungwon nation, goodnight ! rest well ! or good day, i dunno. bye !!” he rambled, mustering a quick bye to his friend and fans before quickly turning off his stream.

he immediately let out a moan of relief, “couldn’t have waited ? needy slut.” jungwon thrusted his hips into your mouth. this time, you were more than audible, he could feel the vibrations of your vocal before you pulled from him with a loud pop.

“are you mad at me ?,” you pouted at him teasily, your hands fondling his balls.

“tch.” jungwon scoffed, pulling you into his lap.

“so, no ?” you played with his hair, riding his thighs slowly.

“so, no?” he playfully mocked you. he loved the way you looked getting off on him, he loved the sight of you in pleasure. your gentle moaning snatching him of his sanity.

he took your hips in his grasp heaving you over his length, jerking himself before closing the gap between the two of you, all he had to do was move your panties to the side since you were wearing one of his oversized t-shirts. both moaning in sync at the tight fit.

“so big.. so full...mmh..” you cried, wrapping your arms around his neck.

his hands found the flesh of your ass, guiding it into movement after slapping it once, or twice. throwing his head back at the feel. “god.. that’s right squeeze this dick baby..” he let go, pulling your shirt from it’s hem, throwing it off of your pure body. as you found it in you to bounce at a quicker pace allowing him to see your bare tits move in following.

the feel of your clit rubbing against his lower brung your high closer and closer. “fuck, so good..” your voice shakes when you clench around him. he immediately captures your lips in his.

it was as if he hoped to taste your juices through your mouth. the moment your high hit, so did his, you sat soaking his shaft— not to mention his clothes.

“you’re so fucking hot..” he panted against your mouth, picking you up and bringing you into the room next of yours before collapsing onto your figure when you’d settled back in bed.

“gonna fuck the shit out of this tight little cunt. ” he continued, “gonna fuck you so dumb.”

and he did just that, ruining you. he pumped his thick cock into your crying pussy like he depended on it. he wanted you to know you were his and his only.

“o-ahmm-,” you sighed, “jungwonnie.. so good, so good..” your left hand covered your eyes as the other went to play with your clit. the impact of his thrusting left you feeling numb.

“feels good, right ?” he chuckled at your pitiful state, he could feel you shaking beneath him.

“did i fuck this little cunt stupid ?” his body hovered over you slapping your thigh. “i did, didn’t i ?” he growls feeling himself throb inside you. your moaning and whining filled the room for a while, that was until you felt your high hit before you could even announce it.

“shit !..j-jungwon..” you panted heavily, grinding yourself on his paused figure. the pressure you had sitting on your clit drove you crazy.

jungwon pulled out, his length rubbed your folds. watching you squirm under him, he never understood the concept of shaking orgasms, but he liked to see it, he thought it looked the best on you.

“you’re so stinking cute, you know ?” his hands pleasured himself once he felt a knot flowing through his lower. coating your pretty, soaked, pussy in his pool of white.

“fuck..” he looked at you, seeing your furrowed brows looking at his phone that rang beside you. “who’s it ?” you picked it up feeling the weight of the bed shift as you read the caller ID.

“sunghoon ??” you spoke through a moan, his tongue dancing around your bud.

“answer it, princess” he says while going down on you.

“but he’ll-” he nibbled at the side of your folds.

“go on. put it on speaker.” and so you did, trying your best to keep the moaning to a minimum.

“sunghoon ?”

“y/n, hey how are you girl ! oh my gosh !”

you muster a laugh over the feeling you got between your legs. you knew sunghoon only did that high-pitched voice when you called. jungwon internally cringed..

“hi sunghoon ! what’s up?”

“not much, just checking on jungwon, he okay ? sounded like he was in pretty bad shape earlier.” he sounded genuinely concerned which made you feel a tad bit guilty— but not really.

“oh- he’s fine ..!”

now it was jungwon’s turn to take this time to put you in his shoes, he fastened the pace he put on your pussy, sucking, and kissing it’s clit before sliding his paired fingers in. he’s just getting his lick back, quite literally.

he watches you throw your hand over your mouth, arching your back at the feel of his fingers pushing into you.

“ah, good to hear then, i was thinking about coming over in a few, is that fine ? orr…”

it wouldn’t seem right if you said no, sunghoon was always welcome !

“i-.. sure, yeah ! mh.. you never have to ask.. you know that !” you felt your second high approaching, biting down on your lip to compress it..

“yeah well, i wouldn’t wanna disturb anything, i’ll be there soon, with takeout !”

“cool then ! call us when you arrive !”

“yeah, hopefully jungwon won’t be all up in your guts the next time i call, right ? ya’ll some freaks for real.”

he hung up after hearing you hum an awkward yes. you could hear jungwon laughing, retrieving his fingers from your wetness. “it’s not funny ! it’s not like you told me to stop when i went under your desk !” you whined.

“you didn’t tell me to stop either.” he looks at you with the most shit eating grin once he got closer to your face, peppering kisses on your cheeks.

“god you’re so embarrassing, and he’s coming over..” you’d rather hide in your closet until you could feel narnia arriving to snatch you from behind than see sunghoon face to face.

“it’s not that bad, at least he knows i treat you right !” he fails to make you feel any better, making you hit his chest, his laugh echoing through the room again.

“move you whore, i gotta pee.” you hear the doorbell ring, causing you to jump up and shriek. you quickly run into the bathroom closing it after yourself.

“i guess i’ll get it” the overall happy boy walks through the marbled floors.

once making it to the door, he’s met with sunghoon’s face, with some.. look ? plastered across it, whatever it was, jungwon bursted of laughter yet again.

i may or may not have got a teensy bit carried away w this one hehehe, also thnx sm for 130+ follows btww !! (⁠/⁠^⁠-⁠^⁠(⁠^⁠ ⁠^⁠*⁠)⁠/

[saintobio]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐃 & 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐓. (final part to 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐈𝐍 & 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐑.)

in the painful memory of what once was, sylus learns that love can't be bound where it was never meant to stay.

♱ pairings. sylus, fem!reader

♱ genre. angst, smut, boss/assistant, 18+

♱ tags. sylus's pov, reader is not l&ds!mc, sylus might be ooc, main story spoilers, razor's dance spoilers, nightplumes spoilers, lots of timeskip, fast-paced, unrequited love, profanity, petnames (kitten, sweetie), espionage, jealousy, brief smut, mentions of pregnancy/impregnation kink, mentions of accidents, suicide attempt, injuries, blood, usage of guns, usage of knife, killings, death, my own theories incorporated into the lore, sylus groveling bcos yall want him to

♱ notes. 9.5k wc. l&ds!mc is referred to here as 'diana'. THIS IS A REPOST of the original post i accidentally deleted. i already posted this several hours ago, so if you’re seeing this new one again, blame my dumbass 🤧 oh well life is life.

Sylus had a part of him that wished things could be different. 

Ever since he turned away and left you that night at the alleyway, he didn’t really realize the chain of events his decision would set into motion. He simply underestimated how strongly your threats were backed by the grudge you had on him for bringing the hunter girl from Linkon into his base.

After all, you were just an assistant of his. And her, she was everything to him. It wasn’t just about the Aether Core, too—their bond stretched back into his distant past, into another planet where two of them ruled before the inhabitants of Philos came to ruin everything. Him and Diana had a connection he couldn’t sever no matter how much you had come to mean to him. And he spent years, centuries even, just to search for her. 

So, how could a mere assistant he had known for less than a decade have such entitlement to her role in his life? 

Eventually, days turned into weeks. Weeks into months. With your prolonged absence from the Onychinus base, Sylus’s business transactions and illicit deals had become increasingly unruly. He had grown too dependent on you as his right-hand woman, relying on your meticulous management to ensure all his illegal activities ran smoothly. Yet now, without your oversight, things were falling apart.

And while he was contemplating how to fill the void your absence had created, the office door slammed open. A subordinate soon rushed in, breathless and wide-eyed. “Boss, she’s betrayed us!” Luke exclaimed. “She’s gone to the Hunter’s Association. We got word that she was a high-ranking intelligence agent there!”

“A.K.A a spy!” yelled the other twin, Kieran, who looked equally hurt at your betrayal. “She fooled all of us. And here, we treated her like family.” 

That was how Sylus learned that you had left the N109 Zone, seeking refuge in Linkon City, and had exposed critical intel on Onychinus. At the time, rage naturally exploded within him. Didn’t he take good care of you while you were here? He had given you everything, trusted you, and you had thrown it all away. Four years of falling into his trap. Four years of being his partner in crime, his right-hand woman, his lover. People even saw you as the modern day Bonnie & Clyde. Sylus couldn’t understand the root of your betrayal, couldn’t imagine how letting you slip away from his grasp would cost him so much in return.

When you vowed to do everything in your power to kill Diana, was this just a part of your grand scheme? What other machinations were you orchestrating in your pursuit of revenge?

“She’s a wild animal on loose.” Sylus looked up at the twins, maintaining a calm yet ruthless mien as he sat on the couch. He might be idly tossing a coin like he didn’t care, but inside his brain was chaos ensuing. “Where’s she now? Any news?”

It was Luke who shrugged in response. “She hasn’t been seen anywhere, boss-man.”

“We suspect the Association is hiding her,” Kieran added. 

The hunter girl, Diana—the very girl you were jealous of, was sitting next to Sylus throughout the conversation. Their hands were connected by a strong energy linkage that was seemingly ignited by the Aether Cores in their bodies. They couldn’t separate themselves even if they wanted to. And God forbid you would have lost your mind tenfold had you seen their situation right now. 

“That g-girl,” gasped the hunter girl, eyes wide in bewilderment at what she was hearing. “Sylus, your assistant. She did all that? She was a spy from the Hunter’s Association?” 

Luke tilted her head at the girl, his beaked mask mocking her. “Oh, miss hunter! Haven’t you heard about the HIS? You should know them better than us.” 

“Well.. what is the HIS?” 

“Hunter Intelligence Services.” Sylus was the one who answered, releasing a deep sigh while rubbing his temples. “They’re top secret. Regular hunters wouldn’t have known about them, because they only deal with people like me.” 

Diana looked between him and the twins, rubbing her wrist before moving closer to the boss of Onychinus. Her close proximity allowed him to smell her familiar sweet scent. “Is she… after me? But I don’t understand. If she’s part of the Hunter’s Association too, then shouldn’t we be colleagues?”

Kieran cleared his throat. “Ever since you came—”

“Place a bounty on her head,” Sylus interrupted the twins, and also ignored the question of the girl next to him. She didn’t need to learn the history behind you and him, or why you chose to target her. “Make sure to bring Y/N back to me. Alive.” 

“Roger that, boss!” 

It was his last desperate attempt to draw you back to him. Now that you had the Hunter’s Association protecting you, Sylus knew that locating you wouldn’t be as simple. Otherwise, he would have easily captured Diana long ago. He convinced himself that the bounty was to punish you, but deep down, he knew it was because he couldn’t bear to lose you to his enemies completely.

~~

It took you a year to return to the N109 Zone.

Did you forget he had eyes and ears everywhere? He was the boss of that infamous No-Hunt Zone. Even if you leaked intel about his residences and the Onychinus base to the Hunter’s Association, Sylus still had a few tricks up his sleeve. He had hideouts in places that even you weren’t aware of, and the residents of the N109 Zone were loyal to him. Too loyal that they wouldn’t give any information to anyone no matter the consequences. 

And how foolish were you to forget about Mephisto’s existence?

“Caw! Caw!”

The mechanical crow’s eyes glowed with the same red hue as Sylus’s as it landed on his arm, projecting visions of you entering the underground fight club disguised in an Onychinus uniform. It was almost farcical that you thought you could infiltrate a place Sylus frequented unnoticed.

But then, the vision shifted to you speeding on a motorcycle with a truck in hot pursuit. Sylus quickly recognized the truck’s decals—it was the hitman he often employed for dealing with his enemies, now terrorizing you in a high-speed chase. Without hesitation, Sylus grabbed his leather jacket and mounted his own bike, racing to your location in sixth gear.

He arrived just a minute too late. And what was meant to be a dramatic reunion turned into a scene of you lying unconscious and injured on the road, while the hitman grinned nearby with an expression of triumph. If it hadn’t been for your helmet, Sylus would have been met with the gruesome sight of your shattered skull.

“Mr. Sylus!” the hitman exclaimed, jumping out of his truck with arms outstretched in petty victory. “Can I get the $500,000,000 in cash?”

As Sylus’s gaze fell on your unconscious, injured body sprawled on the ground, a surge of anguish overwhelmed him in ways he couldn’t understand. But it was quickly replaced by seething rage—rage that made him summon his black-red mist, enveloping the hitman in its dark tendrils.

“I said not to harm her,” Sylus growled, his red eye glowing ominously against the desolate highway backdrop. “You failed your task.”

“P-Please, Mr. Sylus! I thought you—”

Without another word, Sylus scooped you up in his arms while his mist dealt with the hitman behind him. The hitman’s desperate cries were soon drowned out by the expanding tendrils, which tightened around him until he was engulfed. Then, in a violent burst, the mist exploded, reducing the hitman and everything around him to dust.

Sylus brought you to his underground hideout immediately after. And an unfamiliar—or perhaps strange—pang tugged at his heart as he gently laid you in bed, his gaze lingering on the road rash you obtained from the crash. The injuries were severe, with patches of skin nearly stripped away in the most brutal fashion he could think of. He could only imagine the burning pain you had to endure as soon as you skidded along the gravel, and Sylus felt his own frustrations knocking at the door knowing that he didn’t have the power to extend his fast-healing abilities to you.

“Tch. My kitten’s reckless as always, riding without the proper gear,” Sylus grumbled, looking at your unconscious body. “You’ve never been one to follow the rules, have you?”

To make up for his inability to save you on time, he applied a potent medicinal ointment all over your body and placed you in an anesthetized state while you healed. His mist enveloped you like a protective shroud the entire time you laid in bed unconscious. Every single day, Sylus tended to your wounds, changing your clothes and bandages, and applying the ointments over your bare body. He even took special care to ensure the twins did not enter your room without his permission. 

Despite the care he showed, a persistent question echoed in his mind: Why am I doing this for you? You were his enemy, a traitor, and a woman who had betrayed him. It didn’t make sense. 

That afternoon, feeling suffocated from this internal conflict, Sylus decided to leave you in the care of Luke and Kieran while he went to Linkon. He knew he needed space to grapple with the feelings that were driving him to care for you in the first place.

He needed to see the real woman he should be caring for. 

Because you had not only exposed intel on Sylus and Onychinus to the Hunter’s Association, you also asked for them to isolate Diana so she would have no way to see or contact him. Who knew that mere feelings of jealousy would spark you to do such trivial things? 

Frankly, you were insane. You were dark and twisted like him. 

But in a way, it only underscored how similarly deranged the two of you were. Perhaps, in your madness, there was a strange compatibility—one that Sylus found unsettlingly fitting. The suggestion of you two being more a suitable pair than he and Diana gave him an unease that he couldn’t simply shake away. 

It should be her. Her. Just her and her alone. He dedicated his whole life into finding her, yet you came into his life to ruin the foundations he had built to meet the person he was supposedly destined for. He had repeated it over and over in his mind like a broken record—the voices in his head telling him to let you go, to hurt you, to make you suffer. 

However, as he stood across the pedestrian crossing, watching Diana from afar, a realization hit him like a cold gust of wind. There she was, oblivious to his presence on the other side, but the spark that once ignited in his heart whenever he saw her was gone. Now, his pulse remained steady and his heart stayed still.

With a wary glance around, mindful of any watchful eyes, he decided to pick up his phone and ring hers. It was a good thing he was able to seamlessly blend into the crowd, with his practiced nonchalance making him invisible among the throng of people. After all, he was Sylus Qin, the mastermind of Onychinus—disguise was second nature to him.

“Sylus?” Her voice came through the line, tentative and filled with a mix of emotions as she scanned the faces on the other side of the crossing.

“According to the conditions set by the Hunter’s Association, we shouldn’t be meeting again.” His voice was steady, almost detached, as he kept the phone pressed to his ear. “Or if not, you will be marked as a Tenebra.” 

Her eyes eventually found him amidst the walking crowd, keeping an expression on her face that showed both longing and forlornness. “Not the first time someone has been marked a Tenebra because of you,” she managed to slip in a snarky remark in her worried expression. “Are you hurt? Did they hurt you?” 

“Are you worried about me?” he nonchalantly asked, watching as she stepped off the curb when the light turned green. Each step was a step closer to him, but nothing changed the pace of his own heartbeat like it should have. Nothing stirred within him as it once did.

“You have the audacity to use a phone when you’re right in front of me,” she snapped, frustration flaring as she yanked the phone from his grasp. Without hesitation, she grabbed his arm, dragging him along with her to escape the dangers of being seen in public. They ended up in an alleyway, a place hidden from prying eyes, an irony that made Sylus chuckle under his breath. The alleyway. Why has that become such a memorable place to him? “Sylus, what’s so funny? I was so scared something happened to you! You couldn’t even call me back or text me the past few days?”

He remained expressionless as he observed her outburst. Strange. In her frantic worry, she reminded him of you, and it was a discomfiting parallel that sent chills down his spine. “I said I’d need to disappear from your life completely, so I have to tie up loose ends,” he began, each word seemingly a dagger to her heart. “We haven’t been able to resonate either way, sweetie. There’s no reason for us to keep meeting.” 

“No!” she adamantly denied the thought, pulling him into an embrace. “No, you’re not allowed to disappear just like that! We need to find a way to get—”

“It’s a dangerous gamble to be caught in my world,” he said in a low voice. 

But she was stubborn. “I’m already caught in it! So, please, Sylus, take me with you. Take me to the N109 Zone or wherever you’re hiding. I want to be where you are.” And in spite, she uttered words that made Sylus think twice about his perception of you. “It’s her fault that this is all happening. She’s a traitor to you and to the Association. Her loyalty isn’t with anyone but herself, Sylus. She’s the one who needs to disappear!”

~~

Back at his hideout, Sylus was careful to ensure that Diana remained oblivious to your presence in another room. He was already grappling with how to manage the situation—torn between the woman he loved and the woman he had wronged who, ironically, were both now under the same roof. The thought of you two crossing paths was a nightmare he didn’t want to deal with, so he gave strict orders to the twins, notorious for their loose lips and loud mouths, to keep Diana far from you.

Because when Sylus returned to your room, he knew you were awake. The dark classical music playing from the vinyl record had likely stirred you from unconsciousness. It had been nearly a week since the crash, but thanks to his meticulous care, your wounds had mostly healed, leaving only faint scars behind.

“You can’t hide from me forever.” Sylus hovered over you to whisper into your ear, summoning his protective black-red mist to slowly release you. “Wake up, kitten. We have unfinished business.” 

When you finally opened your eyes after what felt like an eternity, Sylus told himself it was natural to feel relieved, that it was only right for his heart to soften at the sight of you returning to consciousness. But as you awoke, the voices in his head—the damned, relentless voices—grew louder, mocking him, provoking him, and luring him into darker thoughts. His right eye began to glow like a flickering candle, and when he saw the fear on your face, the words that followed weren’t his own. They were driven by the unforgiving side of him he couldn’t control, a side that thrived on your terror. The beast that couldn’t be tamed. 

She’s a traitor.

Punish her. 

Hurt her. 

Devour her. 

While in a heated, dramatic exchange with you, Sylus was spewing words he didn’t mean. He was doing actions without regard. He was mocking your pain. Your jealousy. Your heartbreak. The drive to hurt you was strong in his head, but he fought desperately against it. The demon inside him that tried to consume his every thought. He tried to battle his own self just to protect you. 

“I betrayed you because of her!” 

His laughter died down, but the amusement in his eyes only deepened, replaced by the wicked smile on his face that enjoyed seeing you suffer. “It’s always been about her, hasn’t it? You see me with her, and you can’t stand it. It eats at you, makes you act out.”

You tried to move away, but Sylus pressed his foot firmly on your wrist. She betrayed you, Sylus. Punish her. 

“I’ve seen your struggle,” he continued, his voice soft but laced with corrupt satisfaction. “The way you watched me with her, the way it gnaws at you. It’s almost poetic, really.”

It wasn’t until you reached for the gun on his nightstand, pointing it at yourself, that Sylus snapped out of his dark trance. The horror in his eyes was a stark contrast to the sorrowful shine in yours as you stood there, sobbing in front of him. Each word you spoke was tailed with the pain of a heart shattered by everything he had done and said. 

“...All I wanted was your love,” you choked out with tears cascading down your face, “I j-just wanted you to love me. I turned my back on the H.A. for you. I left all my friends and family for you.” Your breathing was still for a moment, but your heart had already been blown into smithereens. “All I had was you. I loved you. I devoted all my body and soul into loving you, Sylus. Why c-can’t I have even a little bit in return?”

Even as his gaze softened and a flicker of regret passed across his face, you had already made your decision when your finger tightened on the trigger. The recoil jolted your wrist, but before the bullet could find its mark, Sylus’s hand shot out and expertly deflected your aim. Instead of ending your life, the bullet shattered a window, ricocheting off the glass and disappearing into the night.

“Are you out of your mind?!” Sylus roared, his voice a thunderous mix of fury and disbelief.

You were barely responding to him as he cupped your cheeks and forced your lachrymose eyes to lock into his crimson ones. It was as though you had already resigned yourself to reality, that ending your own life would have been a better option than being with the man you hopelessly loved. 

“Y/N,” Sylus tried to shake you awake, desperate for you to look into his eyes. “Y/N! Enough. Let’s end this game.” 

“...I was never playing one with you.”

Sylus was overwhelmed by a profound, indescribable pain that pierced his chest. It was a pain that mirrored yours but was infinitely more intense. “I warned you many times before to never fall in love with me,” he said in a low, softened voice, “It’s for the best, and it’s what will keep you safe. Why don’t you listen?” He longed to pull you into his arms, but the crushing reality was that he only now realized how deeply he cared for you. It was devastating that his awakening had come at the cost of your near-suicide, forced by a love he was unable to return.

Was it truly too late for him to come to terms with his feelings for you? Was it too late to accept that he had fallen in love with you rather than the woman he believed he was meant to be with?

His answer came in the form of a gut-wrenching realization. It manifested in the frantic voice of Diana—the woman he believed he loved, piercing through the haze of his thoughts by yelling, “Sylus, step back!”

“No!” he shouted, his black-red mist swirling to intercept the bullet.

But his efforts came too late. The bullet had already been set in motion, and it tore through the side of your head. 

It penetrated your skull with a cruel precision, not just once but twice. And the warmth of your blood seeped through his fingers as he caught your head before you fell onto the floor. 

Sylus’s mind raced with the enormity of what had just happened. His face grew ashen as he looked at your bloodied head and lifeless eyes, a wave of acid welling up his chest until he couldn’t breath. But the reason for his suffocation was because of his own guilt and grief. It was at the force of a sledgehammer when he was hit with the admission that he had always been in love with you. All along, despite your tangled mess, it was you who had captured his heart in this world.

His chest tightened, his breaths coming in ragged, broken bursts, while he held you close in his arms. And your last three words, your very last words of “I… love… you…” as you stared despairingly at him was icing on this bitter cake. 

No… no! 

He couldn’t fucking accept it. He was losing his mind, he was going insane. He was plunging into madness. Utter hysteria. “Y/N, please,” he begged, his voice breaking as your eyes, once full of life and light, were now glazed over with the sheen of death. “Don’t leave. No, I can’t let this happen!” For the first time in a long time, he once again felt hot tears leaving his eyes. It was an emotion so rare it only ever showed toward the people he deeply cared about. “I love you too,” he struggled to say. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean what I said back there.”

Sylus held you close, disregarding the blood staining his clothes while he was consumed by agony and regret. He had driven you to this, pushed you away, and then drawn you back into his orbit only to lose you forever. 

Though he may have conquered your heart, in doing so, he had only destroyed the both of you. The memory of your love and the warmth of your touch would haunt him for the rest of his days. And as he held your lifeless body, he knew that he would never be whole again.

But it shouldn’t be too late. No, it shouldn’t! He didn’t know if it was the hysteria or adrenaline kicking into him, but he had thought of an idea—no matter how immoral—that would return you back to him. He just couldn’t weigh which strong emotion he had to deal with first; should he grab the gun and shoot Diana out of anger? Or should he ignore her presence entirely and just focus on you?

Sylus chose to proceed with the latter as he carried you through the corridors of the base, his steps heavy with guilt and his shirt drenched in blood as you remained unconscious in his arms. The hunter girl had followed him in his spiritless steps, her eyes wide with confusion over his anguish.

“Sylus, why are you doing this?!” she demanded, grabbing his arm to halt his progress. “She would’ve killed you. That girl’s a traitor!”

Although he stopped in his tracks, he couldn’t really return her gaze. His eyes could only look at your lifeless ones. “That girl you shot in the head,” he spoke low and in despair, “is my woman.” 

Diana was horrified. “But… but you never said—” Before she could finish, the twins intervened, holding her back from pursuing Sylus further. “What about me?”

He had already turned away. “I’ll fulfill my promise to protect you from afar, but this is where our paths part. Do not come near me again.”

~~

Sylus stood over your unconscious body, his eyes bloodshot and tears-streaked, while his heart pounded with a mix of grief and desperation. He had summoned Philip and the finest surgeons he knew to his hideout, where you lay in a medical bed, exposed and vulnerable, as if you were a subject in a desperate experiment.

Philip arrived with a grim expression, his eyes scanning the scene with both skepticism and professional detachment. Sylus could barely contain his desperation as he demanded, “Do everything you can to save her. Even if it means infusing a high-grade protocore in her brain.” After all, he had plenty of that. Sylus had all the resources, protocores of the highest grade, each with their own purpose and capabilities.

Yet Philip hesitated, his face contorting with concern. “Mr. Sylus, you know I can’t do this. She’s gone. The best thing to do is accept—”

That was when Sylus’s composure cracked. He kicked the nearby chair out of rage, tears streaming down his face as he begged, “You’ve done it before. Do it again! Please, I need her to live!”

The sight of Sylus, usually so imposing and dominant, breaking down in front of him was shocking. Philip felt a pang of sympathy toward the Onychinus boss who was willing to do everything for a woman who was already dead. His hands trembled as he spoke, “I-I can try. But I’m warning you, Mr. Sylus… even if she survives this, there’s zero chance her memories will be the same. They may even become altered, and it will be out of our control.”

Sylus’s gaze never left you. “I don’t mind. Just do it.”

~~

Weeks later, Sylus found himself in a secluded alleyway, meeting with a deepspace hunter who was also an enemy of his from another planet. Of course, the atmosphere was tense as both men stood in front of each other, eye-to-eye, carrying a defensive stance from one another. 

They were never friends. But that day, they weren’t enemies either. 

“How’s she?” Xavier broke the silence first. 

Sylus answered with a low voice. “She hasn’t woken up, but she’s stable.”

“Why’d you ask to meet?”

“I want you to look after her,” the Onychinus leader began, his voice steady but carrying an undertone of desperation, “Speak to the Association about taking Y/N back and forgiving her for her betrayal. In return, I’ll step away from Diana’s life. She’s all yours. I just want Y/N to return to her normal life.”

Xavier’s expression was serious. “You’re forgetting you still have a bounty on your head.”

“And you’re forgetting you and your backtrackers destroyed the planet where I was living,” he replied in equal disdain, but only enough to trap Xavier into a wall of guilt and obligation.

“I’ll see what I can do,” said Lumiere—or, in his current form, the deepspace hunter, Xavier. “The HIS will be easy to convince. But what if she wakes up and wants to go back to the N109 Zone?”

Sylus felt a tug of deep sadness pulling at his heart. “She won’t. Her memories of me are gone for good.” 

~~

If this was his karma for hurting you, then it was definitely the worst kind. 

Sylus maintained a distant watch over you after you returned to Linkon, observing from afar as you rejoined your life with the support of the Hunter’s Association and former colleagues. Each day, he sent Mephisto to monitor your whereabouts, carefully tracking your interactions and daily activities. The mechanical crow often returned with glimpses of your life, which Sylus scrutinized with intense focus as if he were watching a movie. Each glimpse offered him a sense of relief, happiness even, at knowing how easy you were settling back into your old life. 

You had been officially dismissed from the Hunter’s Association due to a medical condition that rendered you unfit for duty, but they continued to cover your pension and provided free lodging—likely thanks to Xavier’s persuasive influence over the Association. The official story was that you had been sent on a dangerous mission where a Wanderer had placed you in a life-threatening predicament. The narrative praised your honor and dedication to the end. There was no mention of Sylus, Onychinus, or the N109 Zone. No hint of the life you had once led or the truth behind your memory erasure. 

Yet, in a bitter twist of irony, perhaps the story you were told may not actually be farther from the truth.

After all, Sylus was the dangerous monster that sent you to that life-and-death situation.

But at least now, you were well cared for. So much so that Sylus fought to contain his jealousy whenever Mephisto’s eyes relayed visions of you sharing lunch with a physician named Dr. Zayne. He struggled to mask his irritation as he saw the man drape an arm around your shoulders while guiding you out of the hospital or wrapping a scarf around your neck to keep you warm. He would often even drive you home and send you gifts that were masked as tokens of “recovery.”

Bullshit.

Sylus clenched his fist, his thoughts of jealousy consuming him. My girl, he thought in despair, my beautiful girl is cherished by other men, while he remained imprisoned in the desolate shadows of the N109 Zone, longing for you.

Eventually, Sylus felt an overwhelming urge to see you in person. After discovering that you had taken a job at a café in Bloomshore District, he convinced himself that observing you from a distance wouldn’t cause harm. He just wanted to be near you, to ensure your safety, and to protect you from any potential threats.

As he sat on a nearby bench, Luke joined him with a comment. “Boss, you said we needed to disappear from her life.”

Kieran, taking a seat on Sylus’s other side, added, “Do you think she’d recognize us if we walked into that café? If she doesn’t, I’ll give her a hard time with my orders ‘til she remembers us!”

“Ha ha! Let’s do that!” 

“Boss, let’s go!” 

“Leave her be.” Sylus took a deep breath, adjusting his sunglasses and setting aside his newspaper—part of his disguise—as he watched you through the café window. He noticed the subtle traces of familiarity in your actions, but the connections that once bound you were now distant memories. “...I’m just here to make sure no one’s bothering her.”

The truth was, he wrestled with his emotions each time he visited the café you were working at. He wanted to approach you, to speak to you, but he hesitated each time because of the fear of rejection and the pain of seeing you not remember him holding him back. There were so many what-ifs in his head that it drove him insane to think about. 

Because if anything, what if you were already seeing someone else? What if you were already in a relationship with that scumbag doctor from the Akso Hospital? 

It was petty jealousy that drove Sylus into stepping into the café. And the first time your eyes met since you resurrected, his heart initially froze, then raced uncontrollably. His heart swelled with hope as you looked up at him, but it was quickly replaced by the lack of recognition in your eyes the moment you spoke from the counter. 

“Hi. What can I get you?” you asked, treating him no differently than any other customer. 

Sylus was caught off-guard, but he knew he had to play the part. “I, uh, I’ll get an Americano. Large.” 

“Alright, sir. And your name, please?” you asked, following your routine without any real interest in the man before you. 

But in a way, this was a relief for Sylus. It confirmed that the protocore embedded in your head was functioning as intended, and that any dark memories from the past had been completely erased, even if it meant he was no longer part of your life. 

“Skye,” he said with a soft smile. “That’s my name.”

~~

There wasn’t a single day Sylus missed visiting the café. 

At first, he worried that his constant presence might seem odd, or that you might think of him as a stalker. But as the days passed, seeing you became an essential part of his routine. A day without catching a glimpse of you felt incomplete, almost maddening. Seeing you was like a drug he couldn’t get enough of.

Initially, you found his regular visits a bit strange, but gradually, the small interactions between you two evolved. Sylus began to appear at the café just when you needed him most—whether it was fixing a broken coffee machine, addressing rude customers, or simply offering a helping hand. These acts of kindness somehow transformed your view of him. What started as a customer-service relationship slowly became more personable, and in recent days, you often greeted him warmly and smiled whenever he walked in. If only you knew how badly it warmed his heart that he got to do things for you without making him feel like he was intruding in your life.

And to be honest, Sylus even felt like he might be—as Luke termed it—foolishly ”crushing” on you. 

“Who knew our boss-man could be a hopeless romantic~?”

There was a time when he visited the café, only to find out from your manager that you called in sick from work. Sylus knew where you lived, but going to your place uninvited was a different story. He had to put some boundaries no matter how worried he was for you. But that was when Mephisto became useful; the mechanical crow would simply fly off to your place and observe you from outside. Then, an idea to drop a box of medicines and chocolates at your balcony was something he had thought of at the last minute. 

Back in the N109 Zone, Sylus anxiously looked at his crow. “Are you sure she didn’t see you?” 

“Caw! Caw!” 

“Did she eat the chocolates?” he asked, exhaling a deep breath he didn’t think he was holding.

“Caw! Caw! Caaaw!” Mephisto responded, fluttering its wings as if to reassure him.

~~

And then, that day happened. 

The day Sylus finally gathered the courage to ask you out, fate had other plans. And what began as a simple gesture to offer you a ride home during a stormy night quickly escalated into something far more intense.

Because one moment, he was offering you a ride. The next, he found himself in your bed, having the most passionate sex he had ever had with someone. He wasn’t even sure if he could call it that, because it felt more like he was making love to you, even if to you, he was probably just an attractive guy you unexpectedly hooked up with. 

So, he had to make himself known. He had to hear his real name leaving your lips. “Sylus,” he breathed into your ear, hands tracing your curves, “Call me Sylus, kitten.” 

That night, he was an insatiable man who could only be satisfied by his woman. 

When he was buried far too deep inside you, he enjoyed the sight of ecstasy on your face and lavished at the sounds of your titillating moans with his every thrust. Not only did he miss the feeling of your walls tightening around his shaft, he also remembered how badly you used to want him to cum inside you. 

And so, he did just that. At his climax, he released hot spurts of seed into your womb, fulfilling a wish from the past that he used to deprive you of. 

But as the night progressed and the heat of the moment faded, the conversation shifted to a more profound and emotional terrain. Sylus wrestled with the urge to reveal the truth about his true identity—every painful detail and the secrets he kept from you. Yet, he knew that doing so would only complicate matters further and risk causing you more pain. The idea of hurting you again, after such a meaningful connection, was unbearable to him, especially now that you were still fragile as glass, ready to shatter at any moment. 

“Why do I get the feeling that I was the one who experienced a one-sided love before?” 

“No, you were loved. You were very loved. There was no one else,” he pressed, forcing you to believe the narrative with his rueful eyes staring back at you. “I was the one who wasn’t worthy of you… But I’d like to try and win your heart again this time. If you allow it.” 

“Sylus… I don’t know what to say. I’m sorry for not recognizing you before. I just… I lost a chunk of my memories, and I don’t know if it’s been altered or what, but…” He caressed your back as you took a deep breath. “I’ll try to remember, okay?”

“Please don’t.” He shook his head, crestfallen as he thought of the past that was rightfully erased. “And there’s no need for apologies, sweetie. There wasn’t anything you did wrong.” 

~~

Your relationship with Sylus remained unclear since that night. And it seemed as though the roles had reversed—now he was the one left wondering where he stood in your life. Because on the surface, it did seem like you were willing to work on building a relationship with him again, but every encounter you two had were always physical rather than emotional. 

Sylus found himself at your apartment frequently, three or more times a week, engaging in intense, passionate encounters. He had lost track of how many times you two could do it in a single night, exploring every possible position, in every corner of your home. He had tried his hardest to make you feel like he was the only man who was more familiar with every inch of your body than anyone else. Yet, despite the physical closeness, he sensed that the emotional barriers between you remained intact.

No matter how deeply intertwined your bodies became, the walls around your heart remained firmly in place, and Sylus knew that there was a part of you he still couldn’t reach.

That, and the fact that he was still seeing you interact a little too closely with that doctor from Akso. 

It somehow didn’t surprise you when Sylus’s car showed up outside the hospital to pick you up, and you got on with a guarded look. 

“How’s it for my kitten today?” Sylus asked as he secured your seatbelt, his lips brushing against yours in a quick peck. “You didn’t mention you’d be at the hospital.”

You shifted uncomfortably, avoiding his gaze. “Oh, I just... didn’t think I needed to inform you of my whereabouts.”

Dammit. He knew you weren’t officially together, but it hurt more than he cared to admit. And it didn’t help that Sylus’s pride couldn’t naturally take it, so he probed more. “That doctor. He’s not your neurologist, is he? It seems a little inappropriate for him to always be around you like that.”

“Well, I’ve known Zayne for a long time,” you merely replied, eyes focused on the view outside rather than the driver of the car. “I’d also appreciate it if you'd be less territorial over me, Sylus. I know you said we have a history together, but I don’t remember a thing, so… I hope you won’t rush me.” 

The Sylus you knew back then would have been enraged. Who were you to order him around? Who were you to tell him what he should and shouldn’t do over someone he rightfully owned? But he was a changed man now, and it was all because of you. You were the beauty that tamed him into a powerless beast.

“I understand,” Sylus replied, swallowing his pride as his hands tightened around the steering wheel, focusing on the road ahead. “I apologize.”

He heard you sigh beside him, and a part of him wondered if it was out of sympathy. But before he could dwell on it, you spoke up, your tone more serious. “I was at the hospital today because I had a pregnancy scare.”

Sylus hit the brakes at the red light a bit too abruptly, his heart racing in excitement. “Are you?”

“No, thank God,” you breathed out in relief. “But... can you please stop doing it inside? I really don’t like it. It’s not smart for me to get pregnant by a man I barely know.”

His chest tightened in a way he couldn’t describe. The old you nearly begged him for a baby so he could be yours forever, but he was aware that this version of you right now was not the same. It never would be, and that was the price he had to pay for love. 

“I won’t do it again.” Once again, swallowing his pride. “I’m sorry.” 

You still invited him to sleep at your apartment that night, and your reason being to work on the memories of him you had lost. Time and time again did Sylus tell you it was better you didn’t remember them, but he could also understand your dilemma when you told him that you always felt like a piece of you was missing ever since that “accident”. 

“And this ugly scar on my temple,” you pointed it out, settling into your side of the bed. “What kind of Wanderer did I fight for me to get a traumatic brain injury?”

Sylus placed a tender kiss on your scar. “Perhaps it was a heartless monster more terrifying than a Wanderer.” 

Like me. 

“Oh, well.” You pulled the sheets over your body, suggesting you two would have no action tonight. “Good night, Sylus.” 

“...Sleep tight, kitten.” 

You didn’t need to worry, though, because he wouldn’t have touched you even if you had explicitly asked him to. After hearing your words that afternoon—about not wanting to get pregnant by him and asking him to stop being so territorial—Sylus felt the need to pull back and be more cautious in his actions toward you. Your words had cut deep, but he understood you were only protecting yourself from a man who was, essentially, still a stranger to you.

And despite the sting, he had promised himself that he would be patient for the only woman he cared about.

~~

However, that same night was a different story. 

No, it was actually way past midnight when Sylus woke up from an agonizing scream that pierced the silence of the night, chilling him to the bone. Instinctively, his hand reached out to the side of the bed where you should have been, but the sheets were cold and empty. And then panic gripped him, forcing him to leap out of bed, his mind racing with a single horrifying thought: the protocore.

He darted outside of your bedroom and deeper into your apartment space, his eyes scanning every shadow, every corner. The image of you, eyes wild and frenzied, ravaged by the effects of the protocore, haunted him.

What if it’s happening now? What if I lose her for good?

The horrifying thought of the protocore making you berserk like a wild Wanderer was always there.

His heart nearly stopped when he saw you on the kitchen floor, curled up, your body wracked with sobs. Relief washed over him to have found you, but it was fleeting, replaced by a deeper, more insidious fear. He tried to approach you cautiously, his voice soft as he placed his hands on your shoulders, “Sweetie, are you okay?”

You flinched at his touch, and when you turned to face him, the sight made his blood run cold. Your eyes, usually so warm, were now wide and filled with tears—tears of terror, of anger. And in your trembling hand, you held a knife, its blade gleaming in the low light as you pointed it directly at his throat.

“Don’t come any closer!” you cried, your voice breaking at every word. Sylus froze, his breath catching in his throat as your sudden hostility surprised him. The knife’s tip hovered dangerously close to his skin, but it wasn’t the threat of violence that shook him—it was the raw, unfiltered pain in your eyes.

“Kitten, let’s talk about it calmly.” His voice was laced with cautiousness. 

“Stop calling me that!” You swallowed hard, your grip on the knife tightening. “You! I had a nightmare... about you. But it felt real, like a memory. You were torturing me at your base, laughing... and then, you shot me in the head.”

Sylus’s heart dropped into his stomach at hearing your altered memory. He felt his soul tear apart at the edges as he stared into your tear-streaked face. “It was just a dream. It wasn’t real, kitten.”

But you weren’t listening. “But is it also not real? That you…” You uttered each word with a threatening voice, “are the boss of Onychinus?”

The question hit him like a physical blow. He opened his mouth to answer, but the words were stuck in his throat and refused to form. He was trapped. The situation felt like a dead end—he could deny that your dream was a real memory, but admitting he was the leader of Onychinus would only validate that lie.

His silence alone was an answer to you. And your expression crumbled into one of betrayal at that. “You lied to me! You’ve been lying to me this whole time. How am I supposed to believe anything you say now?”

The anger in your voice enforced the stillness of Sylus’s breath. He knew he had no saving grace from this situation, but still, he took a step closer, his hands raised in a placating gesture. “Y/N, I never wanted to hurt you—”

“Get out!” you screamed, the knife shaking in your hand. The sight of you so broken, so shattered, tore him apart. “Get the hell out of my sight! I don’t wanna see you ever again, you monster!”

But Sylus couldn’t leave—not like this, not when you were hurting because of him. So in his desperation, he lunged forward, grabbed your wrist, and forced the knife into his own chest. The sharp pain radiated through him as he plunged the blade in and stabbed himself repeatedly, his face twisted in agony, but not from the physical pain. This was nothing compared to the torment of knowing he was the source of your suffering. Again. 

“Even if I can’t die,” he choked out, his voice ragged as he tried to absorb the stinging ache in his chest, “I’ll take all of this pain away from you.”

His own blood soaked his fingers, staining your hands as he released his grip on the knife. It fell on the floor as he stepped back, his heart aching more than his wounds ever could, but those wounds easily healed. The pain of losing you again, on the other hand, would never heal.

He looked at you one last time, seeing his monstrous reflection from your frightened eyes, before turning away. Sylus walked out of the apartment with heavy steps, feeling his soul crushed from your antagonism. He knew he had lost you—perhaps forever—and the realization was more than he could bear.

~~

A haze of cigarette smoke and the clink of glasses filled the air of the bar. Sylus sat alone at the counter, his new glass of whiskey untouched as he stared blankly into the amber liquid. The sting of alcohol was nothing compared to the numbness that had settled in his heart after that agonizing night with you. Every swallow of the hard liquor was a desperate attempt to drown out the torment of recent events, but the pain lingered, and it was damn persistent and unforgiving.

As he poured himself another drink, the muffled sounds of conversation around him blended into a dull roar. That was until a familiar voice cut through the haze—someone he wished he hadn’t come across.

“Sylus?” 

He looked up, squinting against the dim light, to see Diana standing before him. He hadn’t seen him for the past year or so. And surely, her presence was unexpected, but he felt a sudden tinge of irritation at the sight of her. While her, she looked both apprehensive and determined, as if she had just made a hard decision to confront him. 

“H-How have you been?” she asked the question as a conversation starter, but Sylus could see the faint hint of unease in her eyes.

He then straightened up, and his posture became stiff and defensive. “I told you it’s not wise for us to cross paths,” he said curtly, his voice slurred from the alcohol but still holding a note of finality. He didn’t want to engage, not with her, not tonight.

On the one hand, Diana’s eyes flickered with an emotion he couldn’t quite place—regret, perhaps. “I… I wanted to say sorry for what happened with Y/N. I didn’t realize how much she meant to you. Xavier… told me everything. About you and her.”

The apology was genuine, but the mention of your name was a fresh wound, and he felt the anger and sadness surge again, bubbling beneath his carefully maintained exterior. He wanted to lash out, to blame her for everything, but he swallowed the words, knowing it wouldn’t change a thing. In the end, this was all his doing and he couldn’t point fingers over the mess that he alone had created.

Sylus tried to stand up, the room spinning slightly as he steadied himself. “I’m leaving.”

But Diana stepped closer, her hand reaching out as if to stop him. He simply brushed past her, his movements unsteady but undeniably distancing from her. The desire to remain composed was slipping away, replaced by the harsh reality he faced every day since you were taken from him.

He made his way to the exit, pushing through the bar’s heavy door with a forceful shove. Sylus’s next move was to lean against the wall outside as the cool winter breeze blew on his face. 

“Boss.” Kieran’s voice held a note of concern as he and his twin steadied Sylus by wrapping his arms around their shoulders. “We’ll take you home.”

Luke glanced at his brother with a sad glint in his eyes before leading Sylus toward the car. “Maybe it’s time to let her go, boss.”

~~

February nights were the coldest. And it was supposedly the day for lovers, too. 

Unlike the couples that littered the riverside, Sylus stood alone, his breath forming small clouds in the frigid air. His dark coat offered little protection against the biting wind, but he stayed committed, his gaze fixed on the empty expanse before him. Four hours had passed since he had sent you the message, and each minute he stood there waiting for you felt like an eternity. The biting cold gnawed at him, but he was determined to wait even if he’d end up getting frostbite. It was the least he could do.

The frozen river’s surface glistened with a thousand points of light as the moon cast its silver glow over the landscape. And for the next thirty minutes that passed, he was still alone. 

She won’t be coming, said the voice in his head. Give up. 

As he prepared to leave, the ache of disappointment settled in his chest, and his heart skipped a beat as he recognized you, standing cautiously across him, your eyes wide and filled with both curiosity and trepidation. The sight of you, despite waiting in the cold for hours, instantly warmed his freezing body. 

“Thank you for coming.” He took a deep breath, his voice trembling slightly as he spoke. “I won’t keep you long.” 

You maintained your distance, wary of his next move. “Why did you want to meet?” 

With a slow, deliberate motion, he began to peel the scarf from around your neck, and he felt a prick in his heart seeing you flinch. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

He waited until you allowed him to proceed, his fingers brushing against your skin in a touch that was both gentle and reverent. You looked at him with confusion, the chilly air fought by the warmth of your breath. Sylus was just carefully replacing the scarf with the necklace he had given you long ago, the red Beryl crystal catching the light and sending soft, radiant glimmers into the night. 

Do you even recognize it? 

“I’m just returning a gift, kitten.”

As he fastened the clasp behind your neck, he pressed a tender kiss to the nape of your neck, his lips lingering for a moment before he straightened. That small gesture of his was actually carried by the depth of his affection and regret. And, if you may, it was his silent apology for all that he did to you.

“Sylus…” 

His red eyes shimmered, intensified by the bloodshot whites. Sylus stared at your face with a mixture of love and ruefulness clouding his expression. He was looking at you like you were the most precious thing in the world. And he struggled to hold back the tears that threatened to spill, with his voice breaking as he feathered the snowflakes that rested on your hair. “Take care of yourself. Always lock your doors at night and stay warm.” He took the scarf Zayne gave you, and pulled out a new one from his coat. It was a silly scarf with kitten prints all over it, that he soon carefully wrapped around your face and neck. “Wear that whenever you can.” 

Your own eyes were large and rimmed with tears as though you were also hurting inside. “Why are you saying this?” you asked, keeping the weakness inside. “You sound like you’re saying goodbye.” 

Sylus’s gaze was suddenly directed back to the river, but it was only because he had to avoid looking at your eyes or he would lose it. “The Association managed to track me here in Linkon and they’re still after me. I just managed to escape, but I can’t stay here,” he explained calmly, “I only came back to this city because of you… But now, I have to disappear, so don’t worry about having me around. I won’t bother you anymore.”

Your eyes widened in shock, and the tears that had been pooling your eyes finally spilled over. “Are you crazy?” you cried, seemingly unable to comprehend the words he was spewing. “You’re leaving me?”

Sylus’s heart broke at the sight of your tears, but he had to restrain any weakness by giving in. Instead, he reached out, and his hand trembled as he wiped a tear from your cheek. “I love you, Y/N.” He wanted to be the first one to say it this time. “Even if you regain all your memories of me—good or bad—I want you to know that I regret every pain I caused you. Even if you hate me, I’ll still love you. Today, tomorrow, and in our next lives.”

Sylus took one last, lingering look at you, his eyes filled with a sorrowful haze that nearly blinded his vision. He turned slowly, walking away from the river’s edge, with each step causing distance from the love he was leaving behind.

And you, you stood there, the necklace around your neck feeling heavy as you watched him disappear into the night. A surge of emotion overwhelmed you, and without thinking, you sprinted towards him. You took quick, long strides just to reach him, pulling him into a tight embrace, and crashing your lips against his in a bittersweet kiss.

Both of you cried as the kiss deepened, and you were encasing each other’s lips in a tight lock. The intensity of your emotions poured out in this poignant, intimate moment. And frankly, Sylus had never been this emotional. No one had ever seen this fragile side of him that he had always kept hidden. After all, what dominant, cruel boss of Onychinus would spill tears over a woman?

But they wouldn’t understand it. They never would. 

When you finally pulled away, your eyes were red and swollen from tears. “Be careful,” you sniffled, barely unable to catch the breath you needed for the next. “Keep in touch if you can. And when I’m ready, I’ll find you.”

Sylus’s eyes were also filled with tears, but he managed a forlorn smile as he nodded. He reached out to brush a strand of hair from your face, his touch gentle despite the heaviness of the moment. “I’ll wait,” he promised softly, his voice breaking slightly. “I’ll wait for you, no matter how long it takes.”

“Until we meet again.”

As he stepped back, the distance between you seemed impossibly vast, but the promise in your eyes and the love in his heart made the separation bearable, if only just. And when Sylus turned away, his heart was heavy but full of the hope that one day, you would find each other again. That one day, this distant love would become a cherished memory that you would look back on as you grow old and wrinkled, yet insurmountably happy and content with the life you had lived. With or without him.

PREVIOUS PART

[defmaybe]

Excel

aespa's Ning Yizhuo/Ningning x Male Reader

1.4k words

Prequel to [AER-698] My Boss(?) Loves My Ass So Much She Puts Her Tongue on It, Then She Fucks Me in the Ass Like I’m Her Cockslut and Make Me Cum!

A/N: Dubious consent y’all, proceed with caution. You know who’s going to be the receiving end of this. Also, this is pretty much a bfh lol. A bit rushed towards the end, sorry. Thanks for reading!!!

—

“Tsk, slut.”

The words leave Yizhuo’s lips as she locks her tongue with yours. Her hands wander on your body—chest, the flat abs, waist. She’s frisky.

“Do you really think–hmph–you can just walk around for years–mmm–with that—” says Yizhuo muffled, as she grabs your firm ass, forcing some submission into you that you let out as a moan “—every single fucking day and–mmh–expect to just get away with it!”

You aren’t quite sure how it happened, really. One second, you were merely strolling in the SM building’s hallway, papers and such in your hand. And another, a tug on your collar dragged you into the files room, with the sounds of the door shutting and a lock clicking.

You can’t, you can’t just let go right now, with the storm of pleasure raging within.

“M–Miss Ning, I–I don’t think–mmmph–this is appropriate!” you grasp onto any bit of your inhibition that hasn’t been scared away by Yizhuo yet. You fail, and you fail.

Back leaning against the cold wall.

“Shut up, will ya?” Her hands tug the collar of your shirt, creasing it. “If you aren’t going to say those witty shits, then just be a good boy, and let me do whatever the fuck I want with you, alright?”

You whimper in her grip and her stern stare, trying to catch those stolen breaths at the same time. But isn’t she an impatient figure, as she seals your tired mouth with hers once again? 

Sweet.

Strawberry.

Her tongue easily defeats yours and explores your mouth. You are struggling to find your rhythm under her aggression. “You taste good, baby–mmph. Hope it’s like this for the whole package.”

“T–Thanks, Miss Ning. I–I still don’t think we should do it h–here,” you stammer.

She pulls back from the fiery kiss. “And fucking leave me to my vibrator at the dorm? No, you’re my slut today, baby,” she wags her finger.

She then continues, “You know, me and Aeri have been doing this little ranking for the male staffs at the end of every single year, in fucking Excel like those Reddit perverts do. Do you know who has been holding the number one spot for best ass, four years straight?” Ningning asks, staring into your eyes with blazing determination.

You know that it’s you—the question being asked in such a situation. But you just don’t have the heart to be a cocky cunt in front of this ethereal idol. 

“Wh–Who, who?” you stutter out, shaken. Beads of sweat trickle down your forehead.

Yizhuo gives your ass a smack, leaving you tensed under her touch. It’s quick, but it stings hard. She sneers, “Hoo? Hoo? Are you a fucking owl or something, dumbass,” as she crashes her lips back onto yours again. 

She grips onto your ass, and her grip keeps getting tighter and tighter. “Good thing they are soft to touch,” whispers Yizhuo.

She keeps squeezing your cheeks, the softness of them spilling off her fingers through your tight jeans made just to—well, without your willingness—show off your supple rear.

“I mean, there’s the factor of, mmph–” 

She keeps her wordy assertions sheathed in between the kisses. 

“–you staying here since your intern days, proximity stuff, you know? But god–”

It works—well, to be fair, you’ve never been quite a dominant person yourself.

“–too bad I forgot my strap at the dorm, or you’d be moaning like a slut right now.”

A moan leaves your lips—a loss of control.

“Take your pants off.”

You comply on a whim, nodding profusely. There’s nothing you can do to resist her burning desire right now. You slide your pants and boxers down to your ankles, and your erection springs out for her in full glory.

“Hmm, hmm, good boy~” she says with a smirk, examining your cock as she reveals the bare skin behind the black shorts as well. And upon the sight, you fall to your knees, tongue falling out of your needy mouth.

And that’s just her panties, not talking about her heavenly cunt yet, so—just her thighs.

“Me and Aeri have talked so many times on how submissive you’d be for me. Guess I was on point,” Yizhuo says, as your flesh gets closer and closer to her covered folds, before she tips your chin up.

Fuck, she’s gorgeous.

“You can do it later, baby. I didn’t have her find the perfect position just for nothing.”

“P–Perfect position? Miss Ning?”

“Yes, baby, I guess sluts like you would love… Amazon.”

Without another word, she nudges your chin away, leaving your back against the cold hard ground, feet up in the air. Shivers rush through your lithe body. You figure that she’d reveal her pussy just for you next.

And she does.

“Like the sight, baby?” she asks, biting her finger, resting another hand on her waist, body leaning just ever so slightly.

“Yes, Miss Ning.”

Yizhuo giggles as she lowers herself onto her knees. Her hands run down the length of your legs, lighting trails of fire in its wake. It starts to be sore now—dangling your feet up like this.

“M–Miss Ning, can I–”

“No, you’re just my slut, remember?” she commands.

“Y–Yes, miss–ngh.” You’ll have to bear the pain for now.

Yizhuo peppers kisses and licks on your toned legs, sending an unbearable pleasure through you. She slowly squats down until her lips reach the back of your knees.

“Ready?” she asks.

You sheepishly nod.

Hastily, she positions herself to where your length teases her slit. It’s so close. Fuck.

And she descends.

It’s warm. That’s your first feeling upon entry. Yizhuo lets out a stuttered moan with each inch. “F–Fuck!”

The pain in your thighs is worth it. Seeing her eyes closed, mouth agape in this position.

She adjusts herself with your cock, creeping down to the hilt.

“Yes, yes, yes, fill me up like that, slut!” she shouts.

“Ngh–y–you feel so good, Yizhuo.”

She keeps her pace slow, not wanting to have her slut cum too fast to her liking. “Y–Yizhuo? Really? You think you c–can call me by–fuck it,” she sneers, smacking your ass along with the words.

“Ah! Thanks, Yizhuo,” is what you’re able to muster out.

She’s tight. Her walls welcome you with perfection—the wet sensation around your cock, the warmth, and her empyrean moans, god, her moans. She’s fucking hypnotic. Your skin clashing into each other lights up the missing spark.

The smell of your sex permeates the file room—musky, raw, arousing. It’s your body together, just the two of you. You’ll need a spray after this.

With little effort, she grabs onto your thighs for a hold to up her ante. Her luscious thighs tenses up by seconds. Her moans grow shorter. She’s going faster now, and you don’t feel that you can hold out for this tryst for much longer.

“Y–Yizhuo–”

“Fuck, fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

“Really?”

“O–Oh, like you aren’t close, s–slut,” she bickers.

Her hold on your thighs grows tighter with the shorter moans. 

“I–I’m gonna cum, baby,” Yizhuo says. “C–Cum when I say so, alright?”

“Y–Yes, Yizhuo.”

And without another word, her cunt gushes out the torrent of her sweet juice. She pools on your crotch. Her body arches back, stretching her toned tummy into display just for you.

“Ah, fuck!”

Along with her torrent, or perhaps it’s the sight, the familiar feeling builds up inside your stomach. You need to release it.

“Y–Yizhuo, I–I’m gonna cum.”

“Yes, yes, yes, cum inside me, baby,” she orders.

And you break, you release spurts of essence inside her to the brim. You paint her insides white with your cum, desperately gasping for air. Your legs shake as she holds them tight.

“Fuck, yes!” Yizhuo screams. You are too busy having your eyes fluttered to say a thing.

It’s quick, as you finally come down from your high. Both of you are so desperate to catch your breaths in the afterglow. You can see Yizhuo smiling above you.

“I–I’m fucking this–” she slaps your rear once more. “–ass next time, baby.”

“Ah a–alright,” you say, as she lifts herself up from your used cock. She then recollects herself. Cum can be seen dripping down her thighs as she puts her shorts and panties back on.

“Yizhuo, you–”

“Ah, let’s leave it like this, shall we?” she playfully asks, biting her finger, before throwing your jeans back at you.

“Until next time, baby” She bids farewell, before leaving the room, leaving you behind under a lump of your discarded garments.

You sit there in silence, the smell of the debauchery still fills the room, hanging, waiting to be displaced. Your brain replays the misdeeds earlier—her domination, your submission.

And you realize,

You need her again.

—

[withahappyrefrain]

Ruin the Friendship- Bob Floyd

Warnings: Best friends to lovers trope, it’s so obvious they love each other they’re stupid, language, filth, some angst (why not?), unprotected sex, oral sex (f receiving), Bob being pussy drunk.

Summary: The night before Bob leaves for Boot Camp, he's learned no one has gone down on his best friend. He's determined to fix that.

Words: 4.8K

This is for @attapullman's Bob Fucks celebration!

When you've been friends with someone since preschool, you get to know them like the back of your hand. Certain quirks and sayings that no longer surprise you. 

“God, I wish that were me.”

It wasn't the first time Bob heard you say that. Usually there was a cute dog around, or a sushi boat being delivered at a restaurant when you said it. 

But saying it during an oral sex scene in a movie was new. 

It also brought up many questions. 

Questions Bob shouldn't ask, considering he's known you since preschool. Questions Bob couldn't ask right now, because he was too preoccupied looking at you. 

Your eyes were fixated on the screen, focused on the actress withering. Occasionally, they would dart to the other actor who was between the actress’ thighs. Bob noticed the increased rise and fall of your chest, how your front teeth dug into your bottom lip, how when you lean forward, the v-line cut of your shirt showed off the tops of your breasts. The soft glow of the lamps highlighted the beautiful features on your face. 

All things he shouldn’t be noticing about his best friend. But then again, best friends shouldn’t be watching a French film together whose plot line focused on sexual liberation before he went off to Navy boot camp. 

Granted, you and Bob haven’t had a conventional best friend relationship in a while, if at all, considering both sets of parents claimed you two promised to marry each other at the age of four. 

Promises or not, best friends shouldn’t be one another’s first kiss. Or make out practice partners. Or each other’s New Year's kiss when y'all were single. Or spend Valentine's Day together at the local dinner. 

The line between friends and something more was blurry, saved by a comment that ensured the other to think that the feelings that had been brewing weren't reciprocated. 

“You’re a good kisser. Kelsey McCoy is going to think so too.”

“If Tommy Delaine doesn't like you, he's a dumbass.” 

“I’m sure next year you’ll have someone.”

“If I had to spend it with anyone, I want it to be with my best friend.”

“You’re an amazing friend, you know that?”

Why say that if you harbor romantic feelings? Surely, all those kisses and talk of marriage meant nothing to them. 

At least that's what the other thought. 

It's because of this blurry line that Bob doesn't bite his tongue, doesn't throw away the comment to be forgotten. Instead, he speaks up. 

“Been awhile?” 

And because it's Bob, the guy you've known your whole life, the guy you tell everything to, your response rolls off your tongue without a second thought. 

“Try never.” 

It takes Bob a moment to process your words as the way your lips wrap around the beer bottle is far too distracting. But just like processing a car accident, once it registers, your words bring his brain to a screeching halt. 

“Wait, never?” The shrug you give isn’t satisfactory. He grabs the remote to pause the movie, ignoring your cries of protest. 

“Real talk; are you saying that no one has ever gone down on you?” 

You sigh, regretting saying anything in the first place. One would think that after years of friendship, you’d know well enough that once Bob set his mind to something, he wouldn't relent until satisfied. 

You down the remnants of your beer, mentally preparing for this conversation. 

“No Robby. I've never had someone eat me out. Happy now?” Reaching for the remote was all in vain, as he just held it further away from you. 

Darn those long limbs. 

“But you've been with people…..so what did they do?” When you looked at him, there was no malice, just Bob looking genuinely baffled. His gentle blue eyes put you at ease, giving you the comfort to explain. 

“They would touch me,” you motioned to the lower half of your body, “And like finger me. Enough to get me ready, I guess.” 

Bob raised an eyebrow, “You guess?” 

College was supposed to be a time for you to explore, to figure yourself out, to interact with new people. 

And yet, when it came to the relationship aspect, everything had fizzled. You were now going into your junior year having yet to experience a meaningful romantic relationship. 

Did you just have shit luck? Or was it because your mind would wander back to a bespectacled best friend when you were in bed with someone else? 

“So instead of eating you out, which would actually be enjoyable on your end, you're telling me they just stuck their hand down there and hoped they were rubbing your clit? You didn't ever ask them to do something else?” 

Bob didn't have the pristine mouth that parents thought he possessed. You knew, and had known for a while. And yet, hearing him say the phrase your clit in his deep, slightly twangy voice felt different. 

You rubbed your thighs together. 

“Are you shaming the people I've been with or me?” 

Bob closed the difference between you and him on the couch, placing a hand on your bare knee. 

Have his hands always been so big and veiny? 

Fuck, did you have a thing for hands? 

“I'm not shaming you. I’m shaming the people you've been with because well,” he ran a hand up and down the back of his neck, “Well, I enjoy giving….I like doing it. So I guess I'm surprised other people don't?” 

His statement was shocking because everyone else you had been with viewed it as a chore, as something to use every excuse in the book to avoid doing. 

Too tired. Takes too long. Wet enough so what's the point? 

“You…like doing it?” 

The tops of his cheeks reddened, despite a smirk beginning to form, “Yeah. I like giving and I like making them feel good. It's also a confidence booster, being able to make someone fall apart with your mouth.” 

It shouldn't come as a surprise, it was Bob after all. The same Bob who always brought an extra pencil with him to algebra, in case you forgot yours. The same Bob who shared his Dunkaroos because your mom refused to buy them. The same Bob who made his dream of serving his country finally come true after years of hard work. 

He was selfless. But this didn't feel like selflessness. Hearing him talk about giving pleasure, making someone fall apart with his mouth, was different. Even his voice when he said it was different, raspier than usual. 

“Well,” you scooted closer to the edge of the couch, trying to widen the gap so he couldn't feel how hot your body was, “I can't wait ‘til I meet someone who feels the same way.” 

“You don't have to wait.” 

The grip on your beer bottle tightened, the alcohol getting caught in your throat. There's no way he could have just said that, no way he could be implying what you're thinking. 

But when you look at Bob, he was staring back with raised eyebrows and thin lips curled into a little smirk. The same look he’s given you countless times before when he mumbles a smartass comment only your ears were privy to hear. 

You heard me. 

“What-are you…” You stared at him, mouth agape. Bob appeared unphase by it, like he had just offered something totally normal and rational. 

Perhaps it was the three beers he had downed. Perhaps it was the rush of adrenaline kicking in after realizing this was his last chance at making a move before he left. 

“Wouldn't that be like crossing a line?” Your head was racing, alternating between flashbacks of when you kissed Bob and imagining what it would be like to have his mouth on your body. 

“Wouldn't be much different from what we’ve already done.” 

All the air was sucked out of the room by his comment. Because of course he wasn't doing this because he wanted to, because he wanted you. This would be meaningless, just like everything else. If you went through with this, you’d wake up the next day to Bob leaving with nothing changed, still in this seemingly endless limbo. 

Long, nimble fingers hooked themselves under your chin, gently forcing you to look up. 

The look he gave you was unfamiliar. His eyes remained focused on your face, though it seemed like they were searching. 

For what, you couldn't tell. 

After what felt like an eternity, he finally spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. 

“Do you want it to be different?” 

What good was telling him if he didn’t feel the same way, thus ruining a great friendship?

“Do you want it to be different Robby?” You countered back. 

He leaned in, his breath hot on your face, “I asked you first.”

He thought he had the upper hand. But you were like a lightning bug, faster.  

“I asked you second, Robby.”

Like a rubber band, the tension snapped as Bob was unable to hold back a snort of laughter. The tension left your shoulders, the sight of him laughing familiar and safe. 

“I’m going to really miss your resounding maturity,” Bob deadpanned after gaining the ability to compose himself, though a sweet crooked smile remained. 

It was now your turn to roll your eyes, though it didn’t stop the smile currently forming on your face. Seeing this side of Bob was always fun; most folks thought he was quiet and meek. The truth was that he liked to observe and didn’t find value in speaking when it wasn’t necessary. He didn’t hold back with you, didn’t feel the need to sit and observe. He truly conversed with you and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t make you feel special. 

He was never that way with the other girls he dated. 

“You love me,” you teased back. It was a comment you've said countless times, always with that sweet, albeit mischievous smile that made Bob's heart flutter. 

But this time instead of shaking his head or rolling his eyes, he leaned forward until your foreheads were touching. 

Seeing him up close took your breath away. You could see how his roots were beginning to darken, the blonde fading as he got older. The little scar on his chin from a BB Gun incident when he was ten. Eyes bluer than the ocean. The ends of his hair were beginning to curl, something you'd greatly miss when he'd get the military mandated buzz cut. 

“Yeah, I do.” There was no teasing in his voice. No mischief in his eyes. Instead of playfully shaking your shoulder, his hand found its way to the back of your neck, fingers cupping your warm skin. He was moving quickly, making you unable to truly process what he had just said. 

Despite it being new territory, he was handling it beautifully. You, on the other hand, were torn between wondering if your increased heart beat was medically concerning and how large Bob’s hands were. 

“You gotta….if you want to stop, tell me,” His breathing had increased, like it did when he had finished his part in the marching band. But this wasn’t marching band practice and y’all weren’t on the high school field. You were in your parents’ basement, with Bob’s lips quickly closing the gap between yours and his. 

It wasn’t your first time kissing Bob, but it might as well have been. Years of experience had given him more confidence. He knew where to put his hands now, one still on your neck to guide you, the other gripping the soft flesh of your hip. He didn’t hesitate to slide his tongue across your bottom lip, successfully driving you wild. 

When the rounded tip of his nose brushed against yours, a soft laugh escaped your lips. Bob didn’t mind, using the chance to let his tongue explore your mouth. Your body leaned towards him, hands gripping the soft fabric of his old Warped Tour T-shirt. 

“I thought you,” your words were slurred, a weak moan interrupting your speech due to his lips moving down to your neck, “Thought you were gonna eat me out.” 

Bob’s moan vibrated against your skin, sending shivers down your spine. His hands traveled to your breasts, gripping them through your T-shirt. It wasn't a hard squeeze, which is what you were used to. 

It was pleasurable. Bob was pleasurable. 

“Did none of the guys you were with do foreplay?” He asked, his hands continuing their ministrations. 

“I-fuck- yes they did, it just never took this long,” you grunted against his lips. 

“God, you have terrible taste in men.”

You wanted to let Bob know that he was now included in that group. But then his fingers hooked themselves around the band of your shorts, pulling them down. Had you known what tonight would entail, you would have opted for underwear that wasn't so worn. The long hairs on his arms tickled your sensitive skin as he moved to kneel on the floor, the cool basement air making you realize just how wet you were. 

How could he do that so quickly? 

He pinned your hips against the soft couch cushions. With anyone else, you would complain with how hard he was gripping your soft skin. But with Bob, you’d love it. It meant hand-shaped bruises that would stay after he left, reminding you of tonight. 

When his sharp nose nudged your clothed slit, a loud gasp erupted from your mouth. 

Thank god your parents were on vacation. 

His tongue was so wide as it stroked the quickly dampening fabric. How was he able to find your clit so quickly? Most struggled to find it even after your panties had been taken off. 

Bob couldn’t help but chuckle upon hearing your strained whimpers. You were practically squirming, hips erratically jerking with every touch. 

“Wha-why did you stop?” You whined, looking down to find him staring up to you. 

“Are you-I just need to know, do you still want this?” God, he was so fucking considerate. In any other moment, you’d find it endearingly sweet. 

But if his tongue felt that good against your covered cunt, you were dying to feel it without the barrier. 

“Robby, I swear to god, if you don’t eat me out, I’m going upstairs and using my vibrator,” Your voice was strained, your knuckles turning white from gripping the couch cushions.  

He laughed.  Bob knew you were bluffing. He had just gotten started and you were already so wet. 

Slowly, he took his glasses off, placing them on the coffee table behind him, making a show of it. 

“Won’t need those. I’m nearsighted after all.”

“You little-” The insult remained unsaid, as Bob pushed your underwear to the side, his mouth instantly latching onto your swollen clit. 

His mouth was warm. The pressure wasn’t too much, just enough to make you wither in pleasure. It felt so good, so fucking good. When Bob looked up, he found your mouth open, despite no sounds coming out. 

Good. 

You deserved to know what it was like, to have someone care about your pleasure, to focus solely on making you feel incredible. 

God, he could feel his cock throbbed. You looked so pretty with your eyes glazed over, mouth agape as you watched him, completely enthralled. 

And he had just gotten started. 

He wanted to do more than make you come, he wanted to blow your mind. Call it selfish, but Bob wanted to ruin you for anyone else. He had always held back his tongue when it came to the people you dated, knowing sooner or later you'd realized they weren't worth your time. 

But now he had his chance and Bob sure as hell wasn't going to let it slip away. 

The loud sound of fabric ripping broke you out of the pleasure filled haze you were in. Before you could make a sound about your now ripped underwear, your knees were pinned to your chest, giving Bob complete access to your soaked core.

“So fucking sweet,” He groaned against your cunt, sending vibrations all through your body, “Sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted.” 

“Robby.” 

To say Bob dreamed of hearing you moan his name would be the understatement of the fucking century. 

Your whole body was on fire, unable to do anything else but take everything Bob was giving. 

A resounding moan fell from your lips as Bob thrusted two fingers inside you, your walls struggling to accommodate the unexpected stretch. 

Was he this thick elsewhere?

You wanted to find out. Wanted to feel it inside you, in your mouth. You shamelessly wanted it all. But you couldn’t even voice that because Bob was tracing figure eights on your clit, his fingers brushing against a spot you thought Cosmo had made up. 

Fuck, he was doing a number on you. His soft hair threaded through your fingers as you gripped the strands. Your hips involuntarily jerked upwards, desperate to get as much of Bob as possible. 

You kept expecting him to stop, considering you were wet enough for him to fuck you. That's what everyone else did. 

But Bob Floyd wasn't like everyone else. Far from it. 

He was fucking delighted to hear all the cute, strained noises coming from you as he continued.  Each time you tugged on his hair, a groan would fall from his lips. It was the prettiest sound you had ever heard. 

Why did either of you wait this long? 

You tried to communicate, to let him know you were close, tugging on his hair, trying to move away from his mouth. 

But Bob was deceivingly strong, using his free hand to pin your hip back to the couch, his mouth firmly on your pussy. 

When you looked down, you were in awe of how blissed Bob looked. His eyes were closed as his mouth remained latched to your clit. The sounds of your own wetness were obscene, but barely audible over the moans Bob was letting out. 

He really did enjoy it.

“Come. Wanna taste ya,” His voice was muffled as he added a third finger inside you. 

Worried thoughts of coming on his face left your brain as pleasure coursed through your veins. Without any warning, the band that had been tightening came undone.

Bob used both hands to hold your hips firmly in place, his tongue lapping up your release. 

You don't recall coming this hard or this long before. It wasn't a small wave, it felt like the whole damn ocean was taking you under. 

His fingers continued to stretch you open, prolonging your high. The Navy was the perfect fit for him, considering he could apparently hold his breath for an impressive amount of time. 

The soft fabric of the couch cushions brushed as the back of your head, your eyes half closed. You couldn't even voice an acknowledge when Bob’s mouth and fingers withdrew from your abused cunt. 

“You're so pretty when you come,” Bob murmured, his lips brushing against yours. 

Your hands tugged on the soft fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer. 

“M-my turn,” you whined, hips jerking up towards his. 

Bob shook his head, “Wanna be inside ya.” 

How was this the same guy who feared clowns as a kid? 

Before you could even question it, Bob had sat down on the couch, gripping your hips to help you straddle his lap. When had he taken off his jeans? How was he so quick- 

Jesus Christ, he was huge. 

“Fuck, she was right.” 

Bob looked up from where you two were about to connect, a very confused look on his face, “Excuse me?” 

“Betsey Thomas said you had a huge dick,” you confessed, wishing that you'd think before speaking for once. 

Bob’s brows knitted together in confusion, “Betsey Thomas has never seen my dick, the fuck are you talking about?” 

“Said she could tell you were packing because of the gym shorts you'd wear for PE class.” Bob signed, shaking his head as he muttered something about the required uniform. 

“I….we can unpack this later-” 

You snorted, “Why? Too busy packing here?” 

Your laughter was cut short by Bob rubbing his cock against your soaked cunt. Memories of high school escaped your brain, the only thing you could focus on now was Bob and his huge dick. 

Curious wasn't accurate. Frankly, you were desperate for him. Had been since middle school, if you were being truthful. 

“Woah, hey. Easy baby, easy,” his voice made your thighs clench, made you whine into his shoulder as you tried to line your aching hole with his cock. 

Finally, you felt him at your entrance. Slowly, he filled you up inch by inch. Every time you tried to urge him to go faster, Bob would simply shake his head before pressing a kiss against your cheek. 

“Don't want to hurt ya darlin’.” 

Darlin. You were his darlin. 

He made you feel so full, and you didn't even have it all inside of you yet. All you could do was cling to him as he whispered praises in your ears. 

Once you reached the base, it felt like you and Bob were the only ones in the world. At least, that’s what you pretended. It was better than thinking about how he would be gone for who knows how long after tonight. After boot camp was done, he would be off to train for the Navy. 

Even he didn't know when he would return home. 

It wasn't fair, finally expressing your feelings for one another just to be separated immediately after. You wanted him to stay, to go on dates with him, to visit him on the weekends when school started, just like everyone else in a long distance relationship. 

“Hey, what's wrong? Do you- we can stop if you want, it's okay.” Bob’s voice was soft, full of concern. 

His hand lifted your chin up from his shoulder, revealing your watery eyes. 

“I don't want you to go.” 

“I know,” his voice was barely a whisper, matching your volume. Long fingers gently traced over your face, as if he was trying to memorize them. 

“I know it's horrible timing, but we'll figure it out, okay? I want to figure it out with you, I promise,” He peppered your face with soft kisses, earning a small smile out of you. 

“But for now, can I make ya feel good? Because I'm willing to bet no guy has made you come while fucking ya.” 

Unlike in the past, where Bob’s smartass comments earned him a shove, you pressed your lips against his. 

“I'm gonna start moving now, okay?” Even though he warned you, nothing could have prepared you for how full Bob made you when his hips thrusted upwards. 

“You're-fuck- you feel so good, oh my God.” 

Your fingers tangled into Bob’s hair, trying to commit the feeling to memory. 

Bob was trying to do the same, his hands roaming over your body as he took in your scent. Maybe if he asked nicely, you'd let him take a bottle of your perfume with him. 

He was going to need it for the next few months. 

Your mouth clashed against his, tongue desperate to taste him. Wandering hands desperate to feel everything everywhere. 

“When-fuck- when I come back, wanna take you out. W-we can go to that Italian place by your school. The one where you have to wear a tie.” How Bob was able to talk coherently while fucking you was beyond comprehension. 

The Navy will be lucky to have his great ability to multitask. 

“Gonna bring ya flowers too. Sunflowers ‘cause they're-oh my god- you're favorite.” You didn't think you could recall your full name with the way Bob is thrusting into you, much less favorite things. 

Your walls clench around Bob’s thick cock, eliciting a desperate groan from him, rather than the instant ejaculation you were used to. 

“If you keep doing that, I'm gonna come,” Bob whined into the crook of your neck.

“That’s-shit- the point,” you grunted, your hips picking up speed. 

Bob shook his head, “Need you to come first.” 

Confusion caused you to still your hips, “Bob, I already-” 

“Don't finish that sentence, don't you dare,” Bob ended his command with a strong thrust that made you feel as if he was splitting you open on his cock. 

Your head dropped down to the crook of his neck. His skin was so warm and the smell of sage was nearly overwhelming. You knew exactly what body wash he had used, as it was the same one he wore ever since junior year, when you commented on how nice it was. 

In hindsight, it was painfully obvious. 

His lips found yours, capturing them in a desperate kiss. When you felt his fingers draw circles on your clit, you saw stars. 

You didn't know it could feel this good with someone. This was more than a quick fuck, as you actually felt cared for. It was intense, the sensitivity of your first orgasm still echoing every time the thick head of his cock brushed against your walls. 

It's audible how wet you are for Bob. He can feel it at the base of his cock, which makes him wonder what it would be like to have you on your knees, or better, your back, all spread out for him. 

“C’mon sweet girl,” he’s panting, voice desperate and raspy, “Wanna-fuck! Wanna feel you come s’bad, please, please baby.” 

Each circle drawn on your clit causes the band in your stomach to tighten. Combined with Bob’s words, you knew you wouldn't last much longer. 

“You're incredible, shit, I-fuck. All yours. Wanna be all yours. Fuck fuck fuck, clenching me so hard, fuck, don't stop.” Obscene was not a word many, if any, would use to describe Bob Floyd. 

Up until thirty minutes ago, you would have considered yourself part of that group. 

But now? Now you were falling apart on his cock. The rush of pleasure had hit like a brick, coursing through your veins. It hit harder than anything else, harder than the now banned alcohol caffeine combo drink, or any controlled substance doctors had prescribed to help you focus. 

His finger-fuck, usually you had to use two of your own- didn’t stop rubbing your clit, nor does he stop thrusting in and out of your pulsing cunt. It's almost as if-no, you know Bob’s enjoying making you feel euphoria. 

That's what blows your mind. His laser focus on your pleasure, rather than his own. Truthfully, he could have come already and you wouldn't have thought twice about it. 

But now it was all you could think about. How much he cared, how good he felt. How incredible it was for him to pull your hips flushed against his, filling you to the brim with his cock. 

“Holy shit you're so tight-I, sh-should I pull out?” 

Instead of answering, you used all your strength to rock your hips against him. Considering he made you come twice, the least you could do was help him find his release. 

Your fingers gripped his hair, tugging on the strands as your mouth clashed against his. 

The downright guttural groan he releases against your mouth has you clamping down on his cock. The motion finally leads to Bob’s undoing, causing him to come deep inside you, warmth flooding your body. 

His arms are wrapped around your body, clinging onto you as if he thinks you'll disappear if he lets go. 

You’d be a damn fool to. 

The basement is now quiet, apart from the heavy breathing coming from both you and Bob. 

After several minutes pass by, you gather the courage to break the silence, “Did you mean all that? Taking me out on a date and being mine?” 

Bob’s cheek burned a bright red as he timidly nodded his head, “I….yeah. I didn't mean to say it when we were, you know. I'm sorry.” 

You pressed a reassuring kiss to his warm cheek, “Robby, what do you feel the need to apologize for?” 

He looked up to you, those earnest blue eyes sparkling, “Shit timing?” 

“You're not wrong about that, but like you said earlier, I want to work it out with you.” Your words brought comfort, giving Bob the confidence to place a sweet kiss right on your lips. His smile was burning into yours, causing your stomach to flutter. 

“I know it's not that Italian restaurant, but can I take you out to breakfast tomorrow?” 

The local diner had been a go-to since y'all were thirteen. But this time would be different. This time you wouldn't feel the urge to look away when he caught you staring. This time neither one would correct the waitress when she'd make a comment about y'all being a cute couple. 

The soft call of your name pulled you out of your thoughts. 

“Uh can I….eat you out again? Tomorrow obviously! Like before we go to the diner?” 

Good Lord this man was going to be the death of you.

---------------------------------------------------------

@ohtobeleah @sebsxphia @attapullman @ryebecca @sio-ina-bottle @rhettabbotts @callsignspark @roosterforme @lewmagoo @hangmanapologist @justabovewater20 @theharddeck @cumholland @bobfloydsbabe @sometimesanalice @heartfairy @auroralightsthesky

[redflagshipwriter]

Fast Car Four (of four)

masterpost

Jason swallowed down hysterical laughter. “No, I don't.” 

Major understatement. Jason did not want Danny to talk to Batman. There were a couple reasons! 

Most crucial to his mission was that he was pretty sure Danny would make him seem a lot less dangerous and intimidating. He needed Batman to think the Red Hood was a coldly calculating threat, not a nice guy who tipped well. Danny was weirdly blithe about hanging out with a man who was over the national news for mass murder and taking over a drug market. Now that he was mostly over the shock of Danny’s attempt to throttle him for endangering his academic ambitions, he kind of desperately wanted Danny to like him. But again, that was not conducive to the impression he needed to make on Gotham..

But also, Jason wasn't made of stone. Danny was wrong about being in danger from Batman. Whatever he was, he clearly wasn't a criminal. He was some kind of persecuted minority. The highest Batman-related-risk he had was adoption.

‘Pretty goddamn terrible risk,’ Jason thought, remembering Dickie's screaming fights with Bruce and his own catastrophic blowout. 

Alright. How to make this work in the context of his plan? 

“Lemme think for a bit,” Jason said aloud, just so that Danny would steam less. “Obviously, he isn't going to forget about you. He knows your name, where you live, alla that. The best way to get him off your ass is to make you irrelevant as a lead.” 

Emotionally compromising him really wouldn't hurt, either. It was really goddamn hard to make Batman sloppy. But Jason knew how to press his buttons. He thought it over and wordlessly led Danny into the safehouse to offer him bottled water from the fridge. 

“He's not going to find you here, by the way,” Jason absently reassured. “Do you have to go to class today?” 

Danny grimaced. “I can miss a day.” He cracked open the water bottle. “One day.” 

Jason suppressed a cackle. He had one day to do something that got Danny off of Batman's sonar. He loved a generous king. “Thanks, honey,” he said. And then he flatlined. 

They looked at each other. 

Neither one of them spoke. The air was very tense with… something.

Jason looked back at his phone and pretended to be very busy. 

‘I wish I wasn't a dumbass,’ he mourned. Jason took a moment to be wistful for a better world. ‘Fuck. I need to solve this. How do I- would dramatically escalating my timeline work? If I skip all the chess moves and just confront Bruce…’

He cleared his throat. “What are, uh, your thoughts on using your powers to commit a major crime for me just once, so that I can get the Batman off your case?” 

Danny's lips thinned. “I'll hear you out.” 

Jason's mind raced. “So, uh, you stay here today, where he definitely can't see you. I have to go out for an errand or two, but you can just camp out here.” He frowned. “Actually, Batman won't go out in the day.” Bruce had work. “You can go to your classes. You probably should. School is important.”

“And Batman isn't going to like, track my car by traffic cameras and see that I came from here?” Danny raised an eyebrow.

‘He is going to do exactly that to see that you came here, and it’ll take him all day.’

He felt a vindictive spark of joy over how Bruce’s old man neck was going to hurt after hours spent squinting at his monitors. He’d used to microwave rice packs and hand them over periodically so the big dope didn’t wind up laid up in bed the next day.

‘Wonder if the new kid does that.’

Jason snorted and hopped up on the kitchen counter. “No, he's definitely going to do that. But it'll take him a while and I'll burn this location anyway…” He trailed off as an idea hit. “D’you know anything about cars?” 

It turned out that Danny knew enough. 

So Jason made them breakfast, sent Danny off to school, and then went out to intimidate the minions he'd had for literally one friggin day.

That turned out to be completely unnecessary. Apparently the Joker got the news channel in Arkham and he was pissy about someone making a major news story under his old alias. 

In another world, Jason would have flipped off the TV and hunkered down, let this chance pass him by because the stars were not aligned. But right here and now, there was a hot boy depending on him. So Jason was just going to make it work. 

Danny came back to the safehouse after classes. “Are you sure Batman is gonna come here?” Jason watched with eagle eyes as Danny absently picked at the pot roast he'd had going all day. Danny liked potatoes. Noted. 

“Yeah, for sure.” He cleared his throat. “And he’ll follow me if he hears word I’m out.”

“Leaving me to actually do this.” Danny looked kind of disgruntled about it.

Jason opened his mouth to point out that drawing Batman away on foot was a lot more demanding than what he wanted from Danny, but then he made eye contact and felt a chill up his spine. Danny’s stare looked positively dangerous. He was gripping his eating utensils with what was obviously way too much force and leaning ever so slightly towards Jason.

‘I think he’ll attack me with his spoon if I say that,’ Jason thought with admiration. ‘This man feels no fucking fear.’

“I’m sure that you can pull it off,” he said instead. “It won’t take too long with density shifting.”

Danny made a sound deep in the back of his throat that conveyed a deep and enduring skepticism. Jason took a big bite of his own food to move the interaction along. 

There was a huge sigh.

Some latent instinct cued Jason in that eye contact was required. He put down his food and focused on Danny. He conveyed his full attention as much as he possibly could while wearing a mask. He momentarily wondered if he should take it off but no, that was nuts. 

“Tell me that you’re sure this will work,” Danny said. He blinked at Jason, looking weary. “Personally, I think that this sounds like it will just piss him off beyond belief and it’ll point to me. I can see the benefit in sabotaging his transportation, don’t get me wrong, it’ll slow him down. But why this? Are you sure that I wouldn’t be better off just going to him and telling him I don’t really know you and I ran because I was afraid of him?”

Jason swallowed. “Danny.” He radiated his sincerity, willing Danny to feel it. “You don’t have to open up to him. Taking three tires off of his car is going to be psychological warfare because I did that to him when I was a kid. It’s going to make him think of me and put him way off balance. When I confront him, he will not be thinking about a gig driver.”

Danny nodded slowly through that bit of personal information. He licked his lips. Jason tried not to imagine that he was doing the licking.

He cleared his throat but his voice still came out hoarse. “I know you don’t know me very well.” Fuck it, it was clearly time for a big swing. Jason unpeeled the domino and did his level best not to let on that it hurt like a fucking BITCH to remove without using the right solution. 

It was the right move. Danny was riveted at the show of trust, gaze darting over his exposed features before blinking and settling into intense eye contact. “I have your back. Okay?” He pulled his hand under the table to hide that it was trembling. “If Batman doesn’t put me in jail tonight, I will do whatever it takes to keep you off the radar. Alright?”

There was a nonzero chance that he was going off to die. Jason fervently hoped that his shitty fucking father pulled through for once in his miserable life and shot the Joker in his evil head. If he tried to find some clever solution, Jason was going to have to kill the fucker himself and then try to avoid getting the shit beaten out of him by his dad.

He felt a moment of painful regret that he was doing this. But he had to. It was his whole reason for being. He had to give Bruce this one last chance to show that he cared Jason had suffered and died.

It was like Danny looked right into his soul. “Alright.” Danny nodded slowly and then his face underwent a whole transformation. He didn’t look like a tired college kid. He looked capable and determined. Jason felt his chest seize. “I believe you. And-” he hesitated before barrelling on. “If Batman tosses you in jail, I guess I’ll get you out. I owe you dinner.” He indicated the table.

Jason felt himself smile. “Yeah,” he echoed. “Yeah, dinner.” 

He probably should have wondered how Danny thought he’d pull that off. But in that moment, he had no doubt. They were going to go out, at least once, and see if they could be something.

He was going to come back and he was going to take Danny out to a real dinner. He felt it in his bones.

They finished eating in silence. Then Danny silently watched Jason get ready for war, putting on his armor and rechecking his equipment. At the door, Danny handed him his gloves. It felt like a benediction. It felt like he was sending Jason off to battle with his favor.

“Four hours,” Danny said. There was no arguing with him. He reached out and wrapped his cool hand around Jason’s wrist. Maybe he was feeling Jason’s pulse. “I’ll find you if you don’t come back.”

Jason reversed the grip. He brought Danny’s hand up slowly enough that there was plenty of time for him to pull away. Instead of a rejection, he saw Danny’s pupils dilate. He pressed a kiss to the back of Danny’s hand. “Four hours,” he agreed. Then he put on his helmet and went out to face the night.

[logansargeantsbabymom]

Too Good to Say Goodbye

Logan Sargeant x Fem!Reader

Warnings: cursing, Hurt/Comfort & Implied Smut, MAJOR TW: stillborn

Summary: Y/N is tired of constantly being dissed by Logan and he doesn't seem to care, at least not until it's too late.

part 1 I part 2 I part 3 I part 4 I part 5 I part 6 I Part 7 I part 8 I part 9 I part 10

F1 Masterlist

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I clasp my jacket closer to my body as I wait for Logan to open the door of our shared apartment. It's pouring rain and my dumbass forgot the keys, I sigh as I pull my phone out, dialing my lovers number.

one ring

two rings

three rings

four- declined.

*new text from "Logie Bear🐻💙"*

Logie Bear🐻💙: Babe I'm on the sim, give me a few.

Me: I'm out here in the pouring rain and I left my key, You said you'd unlock the door 5 minutes ago.

Logie Bear🐻💙: You fucking made me crash.

Logie Bear🐻💙: I'm coming.

A scoff leaves my lips as I shove my phone into my soak jean pockets that stuck to my skin, a few minutes later I hear the lock click and the door swigs open revealing a less than happy Logan.

"Damn, were you watching our home videos while waiting for me to open the door?" Logan laughed as he took in a soaked me before side stepping so I could walk in.

"I've been outside for 10 fucking minutes in the pouring rain Logan and you're making jokes?" I almost screamed at him

Unbelievable, all I do for him and this is how he treats me?

"Woah babe, take a joke," Logan starts before his phone starts ringing "Yeah? Oh for sure, right now? Uh huh, Okay I'll hop on. Yup yup, just give me 5. I'm grabbing a snack" with that Logan hung up the phone "I'm hoping back on the sim with the boys, so just take a shower and dry the floors, you're ruining the wood."

I wanted to scream, I'm ruining the floors? I wouldn't be ruining the floors if you would've opened the door 10 minutes ago like you fucking said you would.

I made my way into our shared room, grabbing my clothes and speaker before making my way to the bathroom. Once in the bathroom, I connected my phone to the speaker and started playing "Hold Me While You Wait" by Lewis Capaldi on a low volume before stripping out of the soaking wet clothes that stuck to my skin.

My shaking hand turned the tap to hot as the water started spurting out of the shower head, which made me sigh thinking about the shower head I gave Logan every time we showered together. Today makes 3 weeks since we last fucked, and that was also probably why I'm so aggravated at everything he does. All this pent up sexual tension between us is driving me crazy.

Before stepping into the now steamy shower I turned the volume up on the song currently playing. Once in the tub, I let all my problems wash off of me and down the drain as I let the boiling hot water hit my skin. After what felt like 3 minutes of pure bliss, I hear a faint knock at the door before hearing it open. Peaking my head out the shower curtain I'm greeted by Logan just standing by the door.

"Hey Logie, care to join me?" I said in a low & seductive voice, watching as he steps fully into the bathroom and closes the door. A victory smile makes its way on my lips as I pull myself behind the curtain once more, quickly lathering myself in foamy soap.

I can hear Logans footsteps getting closer to the shower, but instead of getting in I hear him pick up my phone, turn the volume down, set my phone back down and as he's leaving he mutters "Not tonight. Boys are on the game and i can’t focus on them because your depressing songs are too loud."

Are you fucking kidding me?

That had been my last straw. In one quick movement I turn off the shower, throw my robe on and march out of the bathroom and into his sim room.

"Are you fucking kidding me Logan?!" I shout as a burst in the room, face red from anger. I can hear a mix of muffled oohs, laughs and you're in trouble. I couldn't bring myself to care about anyone on the sim with him.

"Hey! I'm on the sim! Watch your tone!" Logan shouted back, earning him a glare that said turn your fucking simulator off now.

"We're gonna have a serious talk. Now" I said in a stern voice. That made Logan turn the game off and actually face me

"What the fuck do you want to talk about that you bust into my sim room and interrupt me when I'm on with my friends WHO HAPPEN TO BE A COWORKERS?!" Logan shouted, his beautiful face now a shade of red that no-one liked, his eyes as cold and sharp as ice.

“I WANT TO TALK ABOUT YOU. YOURE BEHAVIOR, THE WAY YOU’VE BEEN ACTING TOWARDS ME, THE WAY YOU DONT FUCKING TOUCH ME ANYMORE, DO YOU EVEN STILL FUCKING LOVE ME?!” I tried to stop, I really did but all the anger built up inside of me over the last few weeks just started pouring out “WHATS BEEN GOING ON WITH YOU LOGAN? YOU’RE NOT YOURSELF AND ITS EFFECTING ME, YOU KEEP SHUTTING ME OUT, AND MAKING ME FEEL BAD ABOUT MYSELF! AM I NOT GOOD ENOUGH FOR YOU ANYMORE? HUH!?” the more I screamed at him and the more I cried, I saw not one bit of remorse in his eyes.

“Are you fucking done being dramatic now?” Logan says with a scoff “Nothing is fucking wrong with me. Have you ever stopped to think that maybe you’re the problem? No, you haven’t because you think so highly of yourself. You think that you’re the fucking shit and you’re not!” his words hit me like a punch to the gut.

the tears welling up in my eyes, now falling like heavy rain down my face. “You’re not the Logan I fell in love with,” my breath shaky “I don’t know who you are. I want my Logan back. I want the Logan who came to all my wrestling matches, the Logan who regularly took me out on dates despite his hectic work schedule, I want my Logan who got mad at me when I paid for dinner because ‘it’s a man’s job to pay for his girls meal’, the Logan who always took me to his races and showed me off like I was a rare jewel he found,” the waterfall beneath my eyes couldn’t stop me from staring into his soul while i said this last part “I miss my Logan who stood by me when we had our miscarriage” That seemed to get a reaction out of him.

“You have the fucking nerve to bring up MY baby. Don’t you EVER bring up MY baby like that again. You HAVE NO RIGHT.” Logan said tearing up

“YOURE BABY? HE WAS MINE TOO. IT WASNT JUST YOU THAT LOST A BABY, IT WAS ME TOO. HOW DO YOU THINK I FELT PUSHING OUT OUR BABY KNOWING HE WAS DEAD? I WANTED TO FUCKING KILL MYSELF LOGAN. I FELT LIKE I FUCKING FAILED YOU AND OUR SON.”

“MAYBE YOU FUCKING SHOULD’VE KILLED YOURSELF. HAVE YOU EVER THOUGHT OF THAT?! IF YOU KILLED YOURSELF I’D BE SO MUCH BETTER OFF.” a sob escaped my lips as Logan finishes talking. “You act like I can’t find someone else, like I can’t impregnate another woman. You’re nothing but another piece of ass to me, that couldn’t fucking keep my son alive in you.”

Logan storms out of the room, slamming the door as he goes.

“Well, I’m so glad you told me this now because I’d HATE for our DAUGHTER to be in a house where her dad thinks so lowly of her mother!” I scream while I barge into our shared room, grabbing a suitcase and filling it up with all my shit I can fit in it.

Soft footsteps make their way to the room, stopping just before the door. Slowly I hear the door open and see Logan slowly walking in.

“what did you say?” he asks me in disbelief “did you say ‘Our Daughter’?”

“YEAH IM FUCKING PREGNANT AGAIN BUT SINCE IM JUST ANOTHER PIECE OF ASS TO YOU, IM FUCKING LEAVING AND YOURE NOT GONNA FUCKING SEE HER.” I yell, closing up the suitcase and heading for the door before feeling a tug on my wrist

“no baby, please. I’m sorry, i’m so sorry. let me make it all up to you and be in her life. i’ll change, I’ll be better, I’ll do anything to get you back.” tearing now streaming down Logan face

“I��ll be back in the morning to get the rest of my shit.” I said before tugging my wrist back and slamming the door shut behind me.

pt2 maybe?

thank you for reading! hope you enjoyed !!

@forevercaffeinated-lee

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[peachysunrize]

[ TANGERINE DREAMS ]

Summary: being stood up on his wedding day, Aemond's life takes a turn for the worse. Heartbroken and humiliated, he finds unexpected help in Helena's childhood friend, who helps him move back into his family mansion. Summer cocktail parties and a long stay at the Targaryen residency, Aemond might let the girl who's always been in his life make a home in his heart.

Tangerines, in general, symbolize prosperity, good luck and happiness. So if these delicious fruits appear in your dreams - whole or in the form of juice - it is usually very positive. A dream with tangerines expresses the desire and the possibility of progress and prosperity

Warnings: angggggst, angst, ANGST, no beta we die like Beesbury

Word count: 5k+

A/n: sooooo, thoughts pleaseeeee! I hope you like this chapter! omg we only have one chapter left from this series aaaaa🥹🥹 Comments and reblogs are appreciated<3

-> series masterlist <-

Chapter 9: don’t let me be misunderstood

Aemond.

Aemond.

Aemond.

Maybe you will grow tired of whispering his name to yourself, but you have been doing this for the past four or five hours while sitting by the edge of the lake under the clear starry sky, shivering with each cold breeze.

Aemond.

Aemond.

Aemond.

It sounds more like a prayer rather than his name. Maybe you are praying to him to take mercy on you and walk back the path he took earlier.

You rock on your bottom like a child, holding your knees to your chest as you stare at the reflection of the moonlight on the edge of the water. At this point, your head is emptier than the shadow of a cloud, and you do not know whether the shadow will darken by snow or thunderstorms.

There is little to think about, or maybe too much given how much you have been mumbling to yourself. You thought about all the little things his family said; about you, about Alys, about him — Even the mere thought of him hurts your heart, the flesh ripping slowly as if he has chained your heart tightly, squeezing it tightly.

Shuddering, you look up as the leaves rustle by the cold breeze, creating a soft sound that ripples through the air. You rub your bare arms, cursing yourself for wearing such a beautiful dress for a birthday you were pretty sure it would turn into shambles, but at least you knew Aemond would like it — you do not know if he did or not.

“Hey, loner.”

You turn around, finding Aegon making himself comfortable next to you on the grass, a bottle of whiskey in his hand as he hands you his coat.

“Go on, I’m pretty numb now,” he says, dropping the fabric around your shoulders, nudging you by his elbow, taking a long sip from the amber liquid, “What a shit show, huh?”

“Yeah,” you reply, voice hoarse and raspy with all the crying you have done earlier, sighing loudly, “Yeah.”

“C’mon, talk to me,” he urges you, handing you the bottle before he lies on the grass, staring up at the sky as he waits for you to say something, “I know my brother’s an ass.”

“No, Aegon—“ you sniffle, turning around to look at him, “He is… he is just complicated. He is a good guy—“

“A good guy would never let his girl be insulted in front of everyone,” he scoffs, taking another swig from his bottle, “You didn’t deserve that, sorry on behalf of everyone, Clementine.”

“What?” You ask, looking at him with wide eyes, totally surprised by how he knows the childhood nickname Aemond called you once, “How do you know that?”

“Fuck me,” he groans, slapping his hand on his forehead, “You tellin’ me he doesn’t call you this to your face?”

“No…?” You chuckle, resting your cheek on your knees as you smile softly at him, wiping the remaining tears away, “Does he do it a lot?”

“Duh! Every fucking time!” He tells you as if he is surprised by your confusion, “Oh, man, my brother is such a dumbass. He can’t shut up about you! Every time he opens his mouth all we can hear is Clementine this Clementine that, it’s honestly so annoying! I can’t fucking stand how lovestruck he is—woah, okay, I shouldn’t—” He sits up immediately, reaching to squeeze your shoulder when he notices your eyes watering again, your arms tightening around your legs.

“It’s not…” you take a deep breath,  letting the tears fall freely on your cheeks, “he was so lovely to me, I don’t know what happened but-but maybe I didn’t show him enough love, and reassure him—”

“You’ve got to be fucking kiddin’ me,” Aegon groans, dropping back down on the ground, “He fucked with you and you’re blaming yourself for it? Why the fuck would you do that? Are you a masochist or somethin’?”

“I’m not a fucking masochist, I just… I just love him so much! He thinks I will leave him too because everyone he’s ever loved once left him! Maybe I couldn’t show how much he meant to me, maybe I’m too weak to make sure he knows I love him and I’d rather die than let go of him.”

“Listen to me,” he urges you to lay down beside him, looking at the sky together as he continues talking, “Aemond is a really different man. He isn’t easy to love, hell, even Mum has issues with loving him—“

“That’s not making it any better, Aegon,” you glare at him, words falling from your lips coated in venom, “You’re telling me that even Alicent is hesitant to love him, and I’m supposed to just be okay with that? No wonder he chose to leave.”

“What we’re not gonna do is excuse his actions,” he slaps the side of your hip with the back of his hand, “I meant what I said, he doesn’t shut up about you, but he’s also hesitant about everything! You, me, Vhagar, he can’t let himself get hurt again, even though he knows you’ll never leave him on your own record. He fears the thought of leaving you, so he left you first because it hurts him less to think he didn’t like you enough instead of you not liking him enough.”

“It doesn’t make any sense!” You drop your hands on the grass in defeat, “He’s overthinking this! I know he’s still dealing with the thought of his snake of an ex but… but he needs to let himself feel loved!”

“He does feel loved, and those words didn’t come from his heart. They came from the dark voices in his head, I bet he couldn’t even look at you when he left,” Aegon explains, turning his head to look at your face, “I think you should go find him, I’m pretty fucking sure he’s beating himself to death for doing this to you. But remember that he is the one who needs to apologize, not you.”

“You’re right, he let them call me poor and a gold digger,” you chuckle, sitting up as you speak, “Do you know he said that our relationship was ridiculous?”

“Fucking hell, this guy is a twat I swear,” you laugh a little when Aegon fakes a cry, “Why can’t men be normal for a goddamn second?”

“You realize you’re a man too, right?”

“Yeah, and do I look normal to you?” He wiggles his eyebrows at you, sitting up to give you a hug when you laugh, squeezing you into his arms before he lets go, “Give him a piece of your mind, okay? Make him regret it.”

“Fine,” you nod, trying to find enough courage to stand up and leave, but a heavy feeling grounds you, “I think… I think I’m afraid, Aegon.”

“Don’t be, he might seem intimidating but there’s nothing in his heart except the love he has for you. He’s just being a brat. Maybe slap him once or twice and he’ll be at your mercy completely.”

“I know you wanted to say give him a blow job, thank you for censoring your words,” you say, standing up before brushing the dirt off your dress, and handing Aegon his coat back.

“Actually,” he holds his finger up, giving you a teasing smile, “I wanted to say that you should probably sit on his face so he won’t be able to talk.”

“That’s your brother, you disgusting asshole,” you laugh softly, taking your heels in your hands as you walk barefoot in the path Aemond took earlier.

You remember how he would sneak away from dinners when he was a kid, running towards the empty stables with a book under his arm; it was one of the most exciting things for both of you when you searched for him all night, only to find him sitting on straws with a flashlight and his book.

Walking through the dark stables, you see only a few lights on, and your thoughts are confirmed when you slowly stand in front of the open door, finding Aemond sitting on the ground next to a seemingly sick horse, stroking its neck gently.

“They say she’ll die,” his voice comes out in a gentle tone, and for the second time tonight, your eyes fill with tears — the yearning makes your chest tighten, even if it has been only five or six hours since he left you.

You step inside the stall, cautious not to make any sounds to disturb the unconscious horse lying on the ground next to him as you slowly lower yourself next to him on the straws, your bare shoulders brushing against his arm.

“What’s wrong with her?” You ask quietly, trying to keep your tears away from streaming down your face; how can you survive when you hurt just by looking at his side profile?

“Old age,” he sighs, looking down at his lap, pressing his lips into a thin line, “It’s rare, but she’s been clinging to life for so long.”

“Was she yours?” You look at him, sucking in a sharp breath when he turns around to look at you, his face red and cheek covered in dried tears, smiling sadly at you.

“No,” he shakes his head and looks away from you, “She used to be Mum’s favorite. I remember when she would take us to different races with Uncle Gwayne, and tell us about how she was so close to becoming a champion herself with her.”

“Why couldn’t she do it?” You ask, reaching to hold his hand nervously, giving him enough time to pull away but when he doesn’t, you relax instantly.

“She got married,” his answer is curt, as if even the mere thought of his parents being together sours his mood, “Her marriage was the end of her dreams. Maybe she would be happier if she didn’t have us quite young, maybe we would be happier if we didn’t exist.”

“Don’t say that,” you swallow, frowning slightly as you reach to cup his cheek, turning his face to stare into his eye, “She’s much happier with you by her side, and I’m forever thankful for your existence.”

“You’ll be much happier without me,” he rests his palm on your hand, kissing your thumb as he keeps his gaze locked onto you.

“That’s not for you to decide,” you caress his scarred cheek, trembling a bit as you feel the warmth radiating from his skin, “I’ve never been happier than when I’m with you, when I’m kissing you, when I’m holding you.”

“You deserve the fucking world,” he rests his forehead on yours, closing his eye as he lets himself get consumed by your touch, “I can’t give it to you. One day you’ll realize how damaged I am…”

“You don’t need to give me the world, Little nerd, you are my world,” finally the tears stream down your cheeks, soaking your face as you speak, “Don’t push me away, I’m begging you—“

“I’ll only hurt you, and you’ll leave me. Losing me would do less harm than being with me—“ his voice cracks, his hand moving towards your back, rubbing and memorizing every up and down of your waist.

“No, Aemond, no,” you shake your head frantically, sobs wrecking your body as you try to tell him how you feel, “Don’t give up on us! I’m sorry I couldn’t show you how much I love you, I’m sorry if I was not enough for you. But please, please, don’t let go of me!”

“Don’t cry, I can’t-I can’t bear to see you cry. I’d rather get stabbed to death than see your beautiful face covered in tears,” he begs, leaning down to kiss your tears away, “I’m not giving up on us, I…I’m just giving us a break so we can think. I’ve never been loved like you have shown me.”

“Then why?” You scream at him, fisting his shirt to pull him even closer, your nose brushing against his, “Why did you say we were ridiculous? Why did you not stand up for me when I was being humiliated by your family? If I’ve shown how deeply I’ve loved you, why does it feel like it’s not enough?”

“It’s more than enough, my gorgeous girl,” he kisses the bridge of your nose, and you feel his tears fall on your cheek. “I’ve been taking you for granted. I…I can’t even defend you against them. I was paralyzed. I wanted to vanish and never be seen again, and now I see why. I’ve failed and hurt you so much, not thinking about how me leaving you alone might make you feel.”

“I love you, Aemond,” you say, words falling from your lips in a breathless whisper, “I love you, I love you— I can’t put into words how in love I am because every time I look at you I feel like I’m suffocating with the amount of affection I hold for you! I’m not good with words, Little nerd, but…but I know that being with you would hurt much less than me moving back to Beesbury knowing we aren’t going to make it.”

“I’m not giving up on us—I…” he sighs, gathering his thoughts as best as he can before he replies, but in truth, he is just as much of a mess as you are, “I need to think.”

“I love you, and even if we don’t make it, just know that you are the happiest most memorable experience of my life,” you lean up a little, planting a gentle kiss on his lips, “Aegon told me about the Clementine thing. I didn’t know you remember.”

“How can I ever forget?” he kisses you again, his heart tightening with each peck he leaves on your lips, “You were so chatty about your silly dreams, and I can’t forget Hel’s confused face when she mumbled about you dreaming of Tangerines.”

“There’s still hope for us, right?” You ask, shaking your head and sobbing when he pulls you into his embrace, holding you against his chest tightly.

“There’ll always be hope for us,” he mutters against your hair, his fingers holding onto your shoulders as if the subtle touch would ground him and not let him drown, “I just need to think.”

“Yeah, sure,” you pull away, wiping your tears before you give him a small smile, watching as the first rays of sunshine fall on the entrance of the stables, and you take it as your cue to leave him with the hope of kissing him again, “I’ll see you inside.”

“You mean everything to me,” he whispers, watching you stand up on shaky legs, brushing the straws off your dress as you try to keep yourself calm and collected, but the soreness in your eyes makes it harder.

“And yet you didn’t say you love me back.”

You leave with one last smile, walking barefoot towards the end of the pathway, heels clinking to each other as you swing them with your hand, biting your lip to stop yourself from falling apart.

The numbness comes back. You can feel how your body gets hollower with each step you take towards the door of the building. Your feet ache, and you know there will be bruises on them in a few hours.

The voices from the inside of the building grow louder, and when you step inside the hall, you find your best friend and her brothers trying to keep their Mother sane while their uncle argues with their grandfather.

“Babe,” Helaena notices you when you close the door behind you quietly, crossing the dining hall to pull you into a tight hug, shushing you as you let your sobs wreck your body without a care in this world, “I’m so sorry, beautiful, so so sorry.”

“Hey…” Aegon appears beside you, rubbing your back while you bury your face in Hel’s neck, letting her calmness seep into your skin with each caress she leaves on your head.

“Where is Aemond?” Otto asks, his voice echoing in the hall, “He needs to get here and explain the mess he made.”

“What?” you whisper in disbelief, slowly removing yourself from Helaena as you look at him, “The mess Aemond made?”

“Father, please,” Alicent says, rubbing the skin of her neck with shaky hands, “It is not Aemond you should be angry at, nor it’s her mess.”

“We ought to be more careful than ever! Your boy has already ruined what we tried to build for so long when she decided to marry a woman nearly ten years older. After everything I have done, everything you have sacrificed, it should not be so hard to put a leash on him and make sure he doesn’t fuck around and make a fool out of us in front of Daemon!”

“What we built is gone, Father,” Alicent sighs, taking a large sip of whatever liquor is in the glass, “They have amazing lives, my children. They are happy at least, happier than me or Gwayne ever were.”

“Happiness won’t make their names pop inside their father’s will!”

“We don’t even like that man! We fucking hate him in fact, so you better keep your shit away from us,” Aegon spits the words out, huffing when he sees Otto glaring at him, “Aemond was ridiculed tonight, at his own fucking birthday and all you care about is his reputation?”

“He is the only person who can change things but now, for getting into another miserable relationship with a nobody, he has lost the chance!”

“She’s been Helaena’s friend for so long, Father. Mind your words,” Gwayne interrupts him, crossing his arms as he keeps his eyes locked with his father.

“Or what?” Otto spits the words out, his phone clutched in his hand tightly.

“Or I will break your fucking neck.”

You turn around as soon as you hear Aemond’s voice, clutching Helaena’s hand when he walks very slowly toward his grandfather with his hands behind his back, his head held high.

“You wouldn’t dare,” Otto replies, giving Aemond a challenging look, “You didn’t have the courage to open your eyes and see how your fiance was taking advantage of you, now you want to break my neck because I said the truth?”

“No one disrespects my girlfriend, not even you,” Aemond stands in front of Otto, his glare unwavering, “She’s only two years older, doesn’t come from a rich family full of snakes, and most importantly, she cares about me. So yes, I would break your neck, because she is different from Alys and even I can see that with one eye.”

“You are blinded by lust because you can’t fall in love in nearly three months after a failed marriage—”

“I swear I will strangle you to death—”

In the blink of an eye, Aemond grabs Otto’s collar, but luckily Gwayne is quick enough to reach them. You watch in terror as Alicent and Aegon try to separate Aemond from his grandfather while Gwayne holds Otto back. You can not see if Aemond is trying to hit him or not but even the idea of him getting hurt because of you makes you tear up.

“Aemond, enough!” you reach and wrap your arms around his middle, pulling him back with Aegon’s help, holding on to him tightly so he will not run off and punch Otto in the face, “Please, don’t give him another reason to lash out.”

“For fuck sake, Aemond, get a grip!” Daeron yells, and you see the sea of emotions in Aemond’s eye as he tries to fight off the anger in him.

“Me?” Aemond chuckles, running a hand over his face as he shakes his head in disbelief, “Me? I endured a night with the person who cut out my eye! I sat there and watched how they insulted someone I care about and couldn’t do anything to prevent it! I waited and took the humiliation on my birthday because I didn’t want to make someone else miserable by opening my mouth! Now you say I need to get a fucking grip? No, Daeron, it’s you, it’s all of you! You want to control my life but I won’t let you win this time.”

“It’s not about winning, Aemond—“

“We’re leaving,” he cuts off his mother’s sentence, grabbing your hand gently in his, threading his fingers through yours before he starts walking toward the door. You follow silently, squeezing his hand in reassurance as you let him guide you outside.

You walk hand in hand in tense silence as you walk towards the parking, finding the doorman running with Aemond’s car keys, handing them to him before he says a quick good morning. Aemond nods and leads you to his car, opening the door for you, and surprising you with a quick kiss on the crown of your head.

You give him a soft smile, sitting in the car and waiting for him to join you. The sunlight shines between the trees and warms your skin — grateful for the lack of roof of the car.

He starts the car, his lips pursed and a deep frown forms on his forehead as the sun shines on his face. He reaches for the dashboard and pulls his sunglasses out, putting them on before he twists the riding wheel, driving the car out of the parking lot to the main path.

You lean your head on the back of the seat watching the clouds move as Aemond speeds up. He shocks you by resting his hand on your thighs, gently caressing the bare skin through the slit of your dress.

You turn your head to look at him, noticing his stiff shoulders. He is battling for peace in his mind, you are sure. Maybe he feels guilty about how he treated you, maybe he just wants out from his family. 

He sighs, his thumb moving up and down the flesh of your thigh, enjoying the warmth you provide him with. You rest your hand on his, caressing the blue veins under his skin with the tip of your nail, skimming your finger over his knuckles gently.

You do not realize how much time has passed, but when you wake up, the Targaryen mansion comes into view, and you find Aemond pushing his sunglasses up on his head as he drives the car through the opening gates, looking stressed and confused from all the things that were said during the past few hours.

“We’re here,” he tells you softly, getting out of the car with ease before he walks and helps you out of the car as well, guiding you inside the mansion by his palm on the small of your back.

“Good morning, sir,” one of the house holders says, and Aemond nods at her, “Would you like to have breakfast here or on the balcony?”

“I’m not hungry, but she might be,” he answers stoically, turning his head to look at you, but his face softens slightly when he notices your disappointment written all over your face.

“I’d love to have breakfast on the balcony, please,” you let go of Aemond’s hand, smiling at the householder as she nods and smiles back, leaving the two of you alone to take your breakfast to the balcony.

“I need some time to think,” Aemond whispers, looking down at his shoes as he rocks on the balls of his feet, “I’m sorry I dragged you here, but I… I need to get my thoughts together, and couldn’t just leave you alone with them. I need a break.”

“It’s okay, I’m around if you need me,” you sigh, walking away from him upstairs towards where the balcony is, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

Your day is dull, your mind is even worse. You had your breakfast with a bitterness you had no idea you possessed whilst you thought about Aemond, wondering what he was thinking about — probably the chaos that his family created and left the two of you dealing with the ruins of it later.

You tried to make yourself busy with doing whatever came to your mind; a long walk to the Weirwood tree and back, wandering around the mansion in hopes of finding something interesting, skipping meals, and snacking on fruit. But nothing seemed to make the gaping hole in your chest go away nor did they help with the dark thoughts that came into your head.

Now, sitting on the edge of the bed, you regret taking a long walk; Your feet are bruised and you notice a few painful blisters on the side of your feet, hissing as you apply a healing cream on the skin.

A knock brings you out of your thoughts, and before you can answer, you see Aemond pushing the door open, standing in front of you with tears stinging his eye. He has taken off his clothes from last night, now he is only in an old t-shirt with sweatpants.

“Hey you,” you greet him softly, watching him curiously as he takes a shaky step to the bed, slowly kneeling in front of you, taking the cream from your hands before he squeezes the tube on his palms, warming the cream before grabbing your ankle to gently apply it on the wounded skin.

“How did you hurt yourself?” His voice is barely above whispering as he kisses your shin, closing his eye when he hears your hisses in pain.

“I…I walked barefoot to the stables this morning,” you explain, eyes casted away from him, trying to escape from his intense gaze, “And I took a long walk a few hours ago.”

“You shouldn’t be so careless,” he rests your foot down, grabbing the other one in his warm hands as he speaks, “You need to take better of yourself or you’ll get hurt.”

“You’re doing a fine job in hurting me and taking care of me,” you scoff, rolling your eyes when his eye falls on your face.

“And I’m sorry for that.”

Your head snaps in his direction when you hear the tremble in his voice, lips parting in surprise as you look at his teary eye, his cheek pressed against your leg as he looks at you — his gaze is so intense to the point of melting you in place. 

“I…” he starts, resting his forehead on your knee, “I don’t need a break.”

“Aemond, you need some time—“

“I don’t need a break because I love you,” he looks up at you with the utmost adoration a human can ever possess, “I was a fucking idiot before for pushing you away, for doubting what we have, but I love you so much, my Clementine.”

Your lips quiver, and with a shaky hand, you reach down to cup his face, caressing his cheek as the tears fall on your fingers softly.

“I love you in a way I never thought I would,” he closes his eye, leaning his head into your palm, “I imagine my life without you in it, without your voice, without your smile, w-without you calling me that stupid nickname. Do you know what I saw?”

At this point, you are both crying, and with every word that slips past his lips you lean closer to take a good look at the desperation in his face, the longing, the love.

“I saw nothing, it was all black,” he sniffles, one hand coming to rest on the back of your neck as soon as your forehead touches his, “My life doesn’t exist without you. There is no hope left for me if you are gone. I will perish and turn to ashes if I don’t get to hold you at night. I will burn by the humiliation and misery I created for myself because I believed you would leave me.”

“Oh, my love,” you cry, pulling him up just a little so you can reach his lips easier, pressing a quick kiss, “Are you sure you’re not saying these because you feel defeated?”

“I’m sorry for directing my anger at you, I’m sorry for not voicing my love sooner. I was scared, fucking hell, I am scared because this is… this is not even near half of what I felt for anyone in my life; it’s blinding, it makes me bleed with need for you. All I’m asking is for you to accept my apology and take me back.”

“And if I don’t?” You ask, his lips hovering above yours, and you see him smile sadly, his large hand coming up to rest against your wet cheek.

“Then I will try to cope—“

“I’m not giving up on us,” you cut him off, shaking your head as you wrap your arms around his neck, “We will get through this together. We will talk, we will fight, but I won’t ever let go of you. There’ll always be hope for us.”

“I’m so fucking sorry for saying what I said,” he bites his lip to keep his composure, but his vision is blurry with unshed tears, “I’m not giving up on you, I promise.”

“I won’t either because I love you.”

“I love you,” he breathes against your lips, sealing his words with a deep quick kiss, “I love you, I love you—“

You press your lips to his, tasting his salty tears as they mix with yours, moving in sync while you explore each other's mouth after the chaos that pulled you apart.

“We’re okay,” you whisper, wishing to know if you will be able to hold and touch him like before, “We’ll be okay.”

“We are okay,” he nods frantically, “I love you, my gorgeous girl. We’ll be okay. I won’t leave you.”

“Neither will I,” you pull him into your arms, pressing his face to your neck as you sob, holding him close, breathing in his calming scent, “I won’t leave you, I will never put you through the pain you endured again.”

“I won’t do that either,” he presses a kiss to your neck, brushing his nose against your earlobe, “You’re my everything, I love you.”

[neiptune]

you know how to ball, i know aristotle

cw: 2k wc, female reader, mentions of alcohol, suggestive if you squint, charming professional athlete who's actually an obnoxious loser falls so hard everything now feels (you guessed it) so high school

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The first time you see Atsumu is not really the first time but you don’t know that yet.

He’s just a stranger in a bar, shamelessly checking you out just as much you’re checking him out from your table. When you tear away your gaze from his own with a coy smile and get sucked into light conversation with your friends, it feels like it’s only a matter of time before a free drink is sent your way, perhaps accompanied by a very cliche wink or handwritten note.

But Atsumu knows what he has to do to win a woman over, the best ways to take advantage of what nature has given him. Looks can only get him so far and he’s already standing up before Rintaro can even think of painfully poking him in the ribs, as he always does to suggest that he is about thirty seconds away from looking like a complete dumbass.

And so Atsumu makes his way to you and a table full of girls grows quiet, your lips curl at the corners and nothing in his life has ever looked as much as an invitation.

“I’d like to buy ya a drink” but then he clears his throat and ducks his head a little and you’re not entirely sure you like how artificial that next sentence sounds “if you let me. Show me what you like?”

One of your friends giggles, Emi gently kicks your ankle underneath the table. You know what it means: he’s hot, get your ass up right now. She’s not wrong. You accept the stranger’s hand, tell him your name and immediately wonder why his sounds so familiar, the echo of a bell ringing from the depths of blurred memories.

“So” he sits close enough for you to smell his cologne now, chin lazily resting in his palm, ready as ever to listen to whatever you may have to say “you’ve been staring”

“Hard not to” he grins a toothy grin and your stomach does a flip “how long do I have before your friends come claim you?”

You offer a smile. “They won’t, unless I use the secret signal”

“Which is?”

“You’ll know I used it if one of them rushes here and demands immediate assistance for their very sick very old grandma”

Atsumu keeps his laugh quiet and, once more, something about it is off. But you don’t know that yet.

He hasn’t had a single drink all night and you find yourself insisting: you’re not gonna consume your gimlet alone and, what the hell he thinks, a single cocktail is certainly not going to impair him. 

The conversation flows, he doesn’t linger much on the details of his job but you should’ve guessed it had to do with sports by the corded muscle that keeps bunching up beneath his awfully fitted shirt. You tell him about your job and Atsumu likes the way your lips curl up whenever you mention the kids you work with: it’s genuine, it makes him wonder if you’d smile the same while recounting the encounter with a stranger in the bar where the music is too loud and the drinks too cheap. But he can’t be too starry eyed yet, can he? It’s too soon to uncover the less attractive, juvenile version of himself. Not when you’re already leaning closer, lured in by how good he smells and the purr of his low pitch.

But then something happens, an invisible switch being turned on when a loud commotion comes from the table where his friends are still sitting and you reflexively turn (he doesn't) to check what’s going on.

Four men are sitting on the other side of the bar and one with black, curly hair is seemingly furious as he obsessively wipes the front of his white shirt. The guy sitting next to him is probably rattling off what is no doubt a series of apologies as he recovers what’s left of a spilled drink. He looks just like the guy sitting next to you by the counter. With different hair.

“Oh” you turn to look at Atsumu again and he tilts his head a little as you smile an increduluous smile.

“What?” he presses, genuinely curious, half of him dreadfully wondering if you recognized Sakusa.

“You used to sound very different. This accent doesn’t quite suit you, Miya Atsumu”

Genuine astonishment paints over his features and once again you catch the tiniest glimpse of childlike surprise.

The brink of a wrinkle in time, bittersweet sixteen suddenly.

Atsumu is less charming and funnier when he’s actually relaxed and maybe a little tipsy, too focused on keeping his body healthy to indulge in alcohol often enough to hold his liquor. It brings you back to high school, to a prefecture you left too early on, to faint memories of a bottle blond twin that was always too loud and mean and didn’t have many friends but man did he have some admirers. He’s boyish and his cheeks are pink and his laugh suddenly mirrors yours and you both feel younger than you actually are, something that took way too long but was perhaps always destined to blossom slowly taking shape.

Atsumu feels everything deeply and all of a sudden, he cares and lives and loves just as he plays and trains: with his whole self. He’s sensitive but has a reputation that’s followed him like a shadow, like the moon when he was just a kid looking out the window of his mom’s pick up truck. He doesn’t have the energy to change it anymore, why would he anyway? It’s the reputation that gets him all the girls he’s ever loved, it’s always been. Do they leave once he doesn’t uphold the standard of the idealized, charismatic, perfectly skilled athlete who’s just as charmingly alluring and skilled in every other aspect of his life? They sure do.

But Atsumu never closes his heart off to the world, he swallows each disappointment, lets it hurt for a reasonable amount of time and then he’s back up on his feet, ready to chase the next adventure, heart maybe a little bruised but always, always open and ever so hopeful.

He falls for you embarrassingly fast, as he always does, and his brother takes over the task of keeping his feet on the ground, as he always does.

You’re not the first woman he’s fallen for, you’re not the only one he has prayed against losing. But has he ever wanted someone as much? Has his heart ever felt seconds away from exploding at the mere thought of not winning you over? Atsumu wanted you, chased you, bent his back to make sure you saw something in him. Anything. Charm? Stubborness? Determination? He didn’t care. He needed you to know just how badly he wanted you, for more than one night, more than a week or a month.

I wanna find you in a crowd just to hide from you.

He spends weeks imagining, sometimes daydreaming of giving you free tickets to one of his games, aching to find out how it’d feel to finally have you there. Just as he’s about to chicken out, Hinata comes to the rescue and innocently but resolutely reminds him that he had something he really wanted to give you.

For the very first time ever, Atsumu is nervous at the idea of a woman unveiling the most important and probably only interesting side of him, the genius setter. He wants to both show off and win the game and be the perfect superstar you probably dream of and, fucking hell, hide from someone who seems to be always looking way too attentively. Someone who might be disappointed or, even worse, just see him for what he actually is: a paperweight that doesn’t come in any exciting, colorful shades once he drops the act, once he’s far from the court.

He thinks it’s best he doesn’t look for your warm smile and intelligent eyes in the crowd, doesn’t even know whether you came to the game or not as he cuts off the outside world and focuses on what he does best. It’s not until he gets a text right as he’s about to fall asleep that night, right as his heart bursts with overflowing joy at the prospect of welcoming you in, that he knows.

Tell me 'bout the first time you saw me, I'll drink what you think.

Atsumu still relishes in the memories of what he calls that first night.

“That wasn’t really our first encounter, y’know” for someone whose hair has been plagued with bleach for years, the strands are still surprisingly smooth whenever you run your fingers through them “wanna know what I thought the first time I actually saw you?”. The good natured teasing in your tone is met with a grimace as he looks up from your chest, where he’s resting his head.

“Fuck no”

“I thought—”

“Don’t say it!”

“But you're gonna like it!”

Atsumu narrows his big brown eyes, brows furrowed in suspicion. “Fine, what?”

“I thought… christ, what an asshole”

You yelp out a laugh as he digs his fingers in your sides, grumbling some nonsense about how heartless you are.

“Let me finish, Miya” you gently yank at the tousled locks “I thought you were too pretty to be acting like such a dick, especially with all that talent and an ever growing fan club”

“You’re being mean”

“You were insufferable, ‘Tsumu”

“I know” he whines, petulant “this is so not how I wanted this conversation to go”

You laugh a little at that, resuming your scratching operations on his scalp and he hums, quick to forget the irritation as it always happens with all his silly tantrums. It’s lovely, really, the way he melts into your touch once more, and maybe it’s because his eyes are closed and it’s a sunday and the thought of wanting to spend endless more sundays like this suddenly infiltrates your heart but you start recounting what really was a one sided only first encounter.

What did you think when you first locked eyes with the stranger in the bar? Was the conversation any good? What kinda shape did he manage to carve into your life that night? Every word is a drop he catches avidly, drinks eagerly, because what is he by now if not what you think of him?

It’s only natural for his friends and teammates and family to like you and get along and find topics you can have conversations about. It kills him to know that it’s not gonna be as easy for him to win your friends and your family over just as effortlessly.

You have two degrees, your best friend is a professor in one of those very important ivy league schools, your parents are lawyers. And he’s just an athlete, one with a not very sparkling reputation, that stumbles over his own words when he’s nervous and doesn’t remember the last time he’s read a book. He doesn’t keep up with classic movies, isn’t interested in literature, doesn’t quite understand your favorite painters. He’s not Samu. Perfectly balanced, talented for things other than sports, likeable to the right people, to the right adults and friend groups. He’s not smart.

But that’s not true to you. So what if he doesn’t like Monet or russian literature or can’t cook or has never watched notting hill? Atsumu thinks Warhol and Kusama are interesting. He likes photography, attends clay classes whenever he has the chance, enjoys horror movies and hiking and loves listening to american music. He’s interested in what you like and could listen for hours on end to you talk about the last novel you finished, just as you love hearing him talk about volleyball and his mom’s garden and a dumb movie he can’t stop thinking about or a new recipe his brother has been testing. You never allowed anyone in your life to ever make a joke, as much as a hint to him being less smart. To him being a stereotype.

Are you gonna marry, kiss, or kill me? It's just a game, but really I'm bettin’ on all three for us two.

You talk about high school a lot, especially if Samu, Shinsuke and Rintaro are also there, lulled by the warmth of the memory of silly games you all used to play with your friends: spin the bottle, truth or dare, marry kiss kill. Of course names from the superstar volleyball team used to come up and of course at the time, among giggles, you chose the most arrogant member to kill. Atsumu is outraged when you tell him the story, pesters you for hours on end to know who you wanted to kiss and marry (Rintaro, Aran), his friends rolling their eyes fondly when he insists you should play again.

“You still make me want to kill you several times a day, ‘Tsumu”

“Isn’t that a shame” he huffs “because I can just see myself marrying ya”

Of course he has a driver: he hates driving anything that’s not one of his sports cars. It’s always embarrassing, whether he comes to pick you up chauffeured in a luxurious mercedes maybach or shows up in that horribly flashy ferrari sf90. But he always, always gets the door for you either way. If his hands aren’t going to be busy holding a steering wheel, you’re pulled to the backseat, legs he insists on keeping on his lap as he lazily ruins your lipstick with the utmost care.

His friends still can’t quite believe how whipped he is, a teenager again, and they pretend not to notice how you two actually entertain each other on his couch while they watch coming of age comedy movies or play grand theft auto. But Osamu smiles widely and he shakes his head as Suna gags, the way the same happiness surrounding his brother makes his heart swell too hasn’t changed in all those years.

Despite what Atsumu and everyone else think, he fully believes his twin is made for love. He’s only ever truly complete when he can devote himself to someone else, when another person gives him the chance to swing open the doors of that stupidly big heart of his. It’s not volleyball that completes him, it’s being in love.

It suits him so well and you do too. Even if everything about it can feel oh so high school.

[honeyxbee]

Hate Me

Eren x fem!reader

Day 6 — Hate sex TW: NSFW, hate sex, name calling, insults words: 332

You cannot stand Eren. 

You’ve tried to get along with him, you really have, but he just..irks you so much. Always arguing with the captain about completing tasks, acting careless during missions, being an overconfident prick — the list just goes on and on. 

Yet it only takes four drinks to have you dragging him back to your dorm, his tongue shoved down your throat before you even manage to get the door closed.

“You’re…so annoying,” you pant out between kisses as he pins you against the wall, his hands already busying themselves with pulling your pants and underwear off. 

“Yeah?” He mumbles breathily, quickly discarding his own clothing and making you wrap your legs around his waist. “You’re one to talk. Always walkin’ around like you own the place, being all bitchy.” 

“I’m not ‘bitchy’,” you hiss out as he captures your lips in another rough kiss. “I’m just..ah..responsible. You just act like a toddler, throwing tantrums every time you don’t get your wa-ay!” You say between breaths, your voice catching in your throat when he pushes inside you. Your arms wrap tightly around his neck. 

“You’re bitching right now,” he scoffs as he begins fucking you at a rough pace. “I should’ve had you suck my cock instead, at least then you’d be, fuck— quiet for once.”

“As if I’d ever actually give you a blowjob. I don’t want your dick anywhere near my mouth,” you scoff, rolling your eyes. 

“Um, it’s currently in your cunt, dumbass. And you don’t seem to mind it that much”

“Don’t flatter yourself, I’m only doing this because there was nobody better around.” 

“I literally cannot stand you,” he hisses out as he fucks you harder against the wall. 

“Y-Your dick says otherwise,” you pant out, your eyes fluttering as you lean your head back against the wall. 

“Oh? It’s only been a few minutes, am I already fucking you breathless?” Eren taunts, making you glare at him. 

“Fuck you.” 

“Oh, I already am.”

[midnight1nk]

So, this week's episode...

[Spoilers below cut]

I'm absolutely terrified, it's not even funny. I can't even click it. But I have to... for the LOREEEEEEEEE... okay, let's-a go....

(The following is my live reaction:)

ay the TADC plug, of course

"Born to shit, Forced to wipe" - not smg3

wise words Three

also, the Ferris Wheel and rollercoaster thing is still there in the background (Ferris Wheel wedding, my beloved...)

I knew someone was going to bring up Meggy and her disappearance

LEGGY! MEGGY, WE'LL RESCUE YOU I PROMISE!!!

THANK YOU THREE for asking the right questions here

oh... not what I expected. at least the crew knows this is obviously Mr Puzzles

NAME DROP

OK, a LOT to digest here:

These are all the possible minigames that we might see in WOTFI. Well, at least all the attractions we could see...

a Mr Puzzles Chonk plush (in the bottom right)

a Tunnel of Love attraction... hmmmm.......

Huh, I didn't know this was by the coast of the Mushroom Kingdom. Or it could be an island/peninsula.

The what now, Leggy?

YEP I knew that once they found out, they would want to leave

...and of course, Mario wants to stay

Yeah, Luigi said it himself

but also, look at the Mr Puzzles cardboard cutout in the back, he's wearing Meggy's cowboy hat from Western Spaghetti

Alright, but before we go in, we gotta have a buddy system, guys

All these critiques are going to make Mr Puzzles lose himself even more than he already is

I think I saw someone posted about submitting a water gun game so congrats for getting in!

Leggy Plush!!

also spider-man plush... symbiote... venom... GOOP!4????

...Once Upon A Perfect SMG4?

[*points at Four and Mario*] The sillies

ok, but like, why is Three smiling like that while everyone else looks so disappointed?

They did the buddy system!

Bob: "Those dumbasses will see ANYTHING and get excited."

I feel seen and I don't like it.

I don't like this either. I already know this is a trap but like noooooo

Three just standing there like a dad watching over his kid

Someone else also submitted a mini-game involving a ducky fishing game

GOD DAYUM.... why did you have to pose like that, Three? You're not beating the allegations, huh.

Aw, Three really wanted to enjoy a carnival if Mr Puzzles wasn't involved (writers, write that down + carnival dates)

OK NOPE WE NEED TO GET OUT OF HERE NOW

🫵 🏳️‍🌈⁉️

oh c'mon now, it's just plainly obvious. Not that it should be surprising, everyone's part of the skittle squad (tm)

STRONG WOMEN we love to see it

...that can't be a real thing... can it?

same Luigi same

YES PLEASE CAN WE?

sorry dude, they really locked in

also what the hell is that building in the back?

Luigi (or rather the SMG4 fandom): "See? I can handle this! I'm not afraid anymore! Do you hear me? I'm not afraid-" [*horror jumpscare*] [*scream*]

NOT EVEN MELONY'S GOD POWERS COULD HELP US, WE'RE FUCKED

NOOOOOO NOT KAREN AND SAIKO

THREE WE NEED TO LEAVE NOW

NOOOOOOOO THREEEEE I THOUGHT HE WAS GOING TO BE THE LAST ONE TO MAKE IT OUT

[*sobbing*] he sent one last text to warn them :( he really does care

AND HE SENT IT TO FOUR [*head in hands*]

the contact names they have for each other.... (I'm not well)

WE GOTTA GO [*runs*] GET OUT GET OUT

Leggy... why did your face change like that?

WHAT WAS THAT CRYPTIC CAPTION?!

Mario, please don't sacrifice yourself... oh, thank god! They really are having me panicking for the smallest things

wait... OMG THEY SAW MY SUBMISSION! THEY SAW IT!

the mini-game challenge that I submitted:

Pop & Whirl: Everyone gets a bag of popcorn. The winner must keep all of their popped kernels in their bag, without dropping a single one... while being chased around the carnival by a collapsed Ferris Wheel (Professor Layton style)!

I DON'T CARE IF IT DOESN'T HAPPEN AGAIN IN WOTFI, I'LL TAKE IT. But if it does happen, I'll draw lawyer Meggy with a redesigned Ace Attorney-esque outfit (somehow)

please don't tell me the green pipe is also a trap...

...the exit door from TADC?

oh god, why does this remind me of the dark web?

and the eyes on the mushrooms... [*IGBP flashbacks*]

heh heh, funny mirrors... AH SHIT PUZZLES, DON'T JUMPSCARE ME LIKE THAT

actually, now that I think of it, Mr Puzzles hasn't revealed himself this whole time...

THE DIDNEY ENGINE ROOM?!

...holy shit

so was I right about us getting to see Mr Puzzles' "truest form" and the whole "Eye of Ra" thing?

are those his arms? and the circle things, it could be part of his cyborg texture but they also look like eyes.

the fog part is really interesting because they could've gone with any "spooky" color but they chose this. It's the creative vision, the one Didney had in this room.

This really reminds me of the goo from IGBP and Wren's wire simulation in Western Spaghetti, but also from this angle, a bit of Zero's "no legs" body design.

"His obsession becoming his identity" - Puzzles connected himself to the single star Didney had. You got it right, past Ink.

HUH?! YOU CAN'T END IT THERE

AND THEY GRAY-ED OUT OUTRO, NO MUSIC! IT'S ABOUT TO GO DOWN, GUYS

also congrats to Nikej1708241 for making it to the credits 🎉

.・-: ✧ :--: ✧ :-・.

That was a pretty solid episode ngl. Probably not as "plot twist-y"

(i know that's not a word) as the previous episode but my spaghetti gods, it delivered! Not Marty again, we may have to rethink this one.

Ok, I've made a list of all the attractions and mini-games there are in the carnival grounds in Puzzle Park:

Ferris Wheel

"Tender Tunnel" (Tunnel of Love attraction)

Merry-Go-Round carousel

Basketball arcade game

Hammer game

Bumper Cars

"House of Crazy" funhouse (also that fits Mr Puzzles somehow)

A spooky cart ride

Water gun game

Rocket ride

Arcade (just flat-out an arcade)

Clown Ball Game

(There's apparently a cafe???)

Ducky Pond fishing game

Pizza shop (....marty?)

It's probably not all of them, we would just have to wait and see, but if you submitted a mini-game that involves any of these, congrats, you likely got in!!!

I still very much enjoyed this episode and some of what I theorized could possibly come true. And some didn't, which is totally okay with me. I'll cherish the Ferris Wheel chase scene regardless :)

We still have to wait for a trailer or a special video in regards to WOTFI, which I will have to analyze and see what's to be expected. From the looks of it in this episode, it seems like it's up to SMG4 and Mario to rescue their friends one by one by completing the mini-games. The more people they rescue, the more help they can get to complete the games. And that includes saving Meggy at the end.

Now, personally, I don't want Mr Puzzles to die. Not yet. There is still a lot of potential that could go for him. A similar redemption arc just as Three went through. Puzzlevision 2. Goop!4. Marty. Anything could happen. Then again, he could die.

Now you might think he might not die because he has a plushie, but there's literally merch of Axol and Desti and they're dead. Puzzles isn't safe from this possibility.

Put in your final bets, my dear fellows, because nothing will ever be the same again...

[moonieandi]

snapshots pt. 7 | stanley pines x f!reader 

summary: the fourth year of your life “married” to stanley pines, particularly concerning helping one another

warnings (TW): swearing, sexual themes (mdni 18+)

tags: fluff, affection, mutual-pining, sexual-situations (in act i), good ol’ protective-stan <3 

notes: me thinks me has big chapter coming up (pt. 8), me thinks i like to do things in fours (the last big chapter was 4). also did anyone notice that my sorry ass had to go back and change some dates/years womp womp but extra points if u didn’t notice my dumbass mistake. 

i think relationships are about being a total hypocrite at times also, like you are constantly trying to fight biases you have over yourself, and also trying to fight for the betterment of your partner also. like im a total hypocrite when it comes to my partner so i think this is another good chapter of what i like to call “flesh” 

that being said i have it sketched out in my journal that next chapter will be… important. hope you all enjoy, and as always love love love all the comments and notes and reblogs! thank you all so much, lots of love <3 (again, masterlist with the other chapters is linked down below!) 

word count: 5.1k

| masterlist | part viii |

“The kids will be gone for a while,” he says, hand slipping warm up her thigh. “How about we pretend it’s 1995, doll?” That slick smirk on his face, glasses drooping on his big hooked nose. 

She laughs. “1995? More like 2012, baby. It hasn’t been that long since you’ve tried to seduce me in the car.” 

He laughs too, hand pushing through his gray curling hair. Shifting in his seat to get closer and share his warmth. His covered thigh was hot against her own. She had laid out short sweatpants for him to put on that lazy Saturday with the kids when he made to walk out the front door in his boxers. Something she found endearing at their older age, the slip of his mind when it came to spending time with the kids. 

It’s darker out, their car the only one in the closed parking lot they had busted into. Mabel had been upset that day, after an altercation with another girl at the mini golf course. Her brother and Stan had almost been more upset for her, and they had rallied behind her in her need for revenge against her blonde foe. She had been upset as well and had a swell of choice words for the little rich girl's parents before Stan pulled her away.

So she had let it slide, the breaking and entering she was currently allowing the kids to do. That and Soos was with them. She trusted him more than he knew. 

They hadn’t been alone in a while, well except for their typical midnight trysts. They had to be more quiet, as of recent though. 

“Feels like a long time,” he hums, bringing his warm palm from her thigh to his cheek. “Come on… we have a bit here.” 

She looks up at him through her lashes, a flush to her face. “I wasn’t protesting.” 

He moves to her like he always does, distracted by the closing space between them. Curling his large palm around her cheek, kissing her like he knows her. 

He’s slick like usual also, smiling against her lips, creeping his hand to move her seat down so he has the high ground between the two of them. Something he loves to do. 

She’s laughing now, lounging back in the reclined seat. When had he reclined his own also?

But she’s pushing at his insistent chest, smiling at his slyness. Flushed below him, his torso hot against her front as his hand made itself comfortable on her cheek again, another on her waist. 

“No funny business Stan, the kids will be back soon and you know it.” 

“No funny business.” He says, pulling back to look at her soft face. His eyes drifting back to her lips once more. There's a breath between them, as they surge back and forth in the connecting space. Breathing heavy in the stretch between their lips, as she tries to chase him forward and he pulls back. His hand caresses her cheek, playing with the hair around the nape of her neck with his pinky. 

“Beautiful.” He whispers between them finally, breaking some spell he’s cast in the space amongst their breaths. It breaks something, when he finally surges forward, meeting her in the middle, at her insistence. 

It’s slow and building and grows hot between them. She tries to focus on many things at once about her lover, how his large hand cups her cheek, and jaw, and neck all at once. How he breathes heavy on top of her, warm against her front, but not against the most intimate part of her. How his lips move, move her, force her open and closed again. How his hand creeps up her waist to the sides of her chest, trailing hot upwards. 

Suddenly it’s not slow anymore, not after the noises she unconsciously makes, and not after his hand trails back to the seem of her shirt to pull it up, his palm warm against her chest now. She’s gasping now, nodding her head at his insistence. He moves instinctually, like how he does every time, but how it feels brand new and different also, when he shoves her bra down, cupping her exposed chest now. How his fingers are slight against the sensitive skin there, it all feels new each time. 

It has her moaning again, mouth open against his to create space, to create noise that bubbles at the base of her throat and sprouts between them. It has him throwing himself forward again, his hand tight against the junction of her jaw now, as he moves her lips and face to meet him again. To move against her again. 

His hand is warm on her front, slipping against her chest, his palm moving to massage her, twirling her bust between his large hot hand. He’s so warm and whole against her, that it has her moving, adjusting along the reclined seat sideways so more of him could be a part of her. Creating space, and area, for him to manipulate as he pleases. And it does please him. 

He’s fast along her lips now, and she does her best to keep up. Her hand gripping his hair, the other digging into the muscle of his broad shoulder, trying to bring him impossibly closer. But he wants to hear more of her, more from her. And he knows how to do it, moving from her mouth to her jaw to her throat, his mouth just as warm as the rest of him. Open mouth, breathy kisses follow in his wake until he makes for the junction of her throat and her shoulder. Kissing there just to hear her react, just to watch her squirm below him. Biting and kissing and lingering by her ear, groaning in her ear as she unknowingly cants into his lap at the tweak of his finger at her chest. 

“You’re so good to me.” His mouth hot over the junction of her throat, his hand heavy on the curve between her jaw and her pulse. “Always so fucking good for me, angel.” 

It serves to always rile her up more when he’s so honest with her like this. Something so simple as the truth has her disregarding her words from before, has her parting her legs and pulling him against the entirety of her as she searches for his lips again. He meets her in the middle of the heat of them, just as taken by her insistence, just as riled up by her enthusiasm for him to this day. 

It has him slightly pulling back though also, swearing as he pulls his button-up off his body. Smirking as he crumples it up to wedge under her hips, to have her pressing up against the heat of his lower body correctly. To ensure he could angle his own hips to meet her where she needed him. 

She’s flushed below him when he glances back up from his handy makeshift substitution for their usual orthopedic pillow. Breathing heavily against the seat of their car, her head almost leaning off the back of the reclined long bench. Her hair haloed around her head as she reached her hands back in front of her to drag him against her again. To feel his weight against her parted legs, her neck already crooked to allow his lips resurgence, her shirt around her chest crumpled from shifting her bra around his large palm. 

A knock. 

It shocks her awake, groggy in her bed, but not on her usual side. 

The wall is cold behind her, but the shoulder she's nestled into is hot beneath her cheek. Stanley slumbering, a slight snore building up in the back of his throat as his chest rises and falls under her hand. 

Right, Stan. 

She had taken to sleeping next to him, some nights. After the appearance of the shocking dream just last October, she continued to have flashes of odd frightful nightmares interspersedly between then and now. It had shocked them both awake several more times in those following months, as she called for him when she was deep within her subconscious. He never protested, never really asked before he would crawl into her bed during those occasions, shuffling her to her spot furthest from the door. 

Now they stuttered each night in the hall, held themselves together in the shadow of each other's doorways before bed. He’d look down at her those nights, at her dark circles and wrinkled pajamas. A question on his tongue every night. A silent ask, if she would need him that night. He would come if she called. 

She could almost sense when one would creep into her mind most nights now, like an instinctual correlation to her overworking herself. So some nights she’d grasp his hands in the shadows in the hallway and drag him to her room. Something he didn’t comment on, the one thing between them he didn’t joke about. 

On other nights they would separate, his lips would linger on her hairline after whispering goodnight to her to leave for his empty room. But those nights seemed far and few in between her need to have him close now, because the dreams were all but fleeting with him close for some reason. She listed off the benefits of co-sleeping somewhere in the back of her head before slipping away most nights, reasoning out her need for him. 

It explained his presence below her now, how she was folded into the junction of his shoulder and his outstretched arm. How her hands had made a home in his warm chest. But it didn’t really explain the dream, one that she had never had of that nature. 

It made something stir in the back of her mind, made her think of his lingering breath now and how it felt so real in the dream, shepherded in the crook of her neck. How he felt on top of her, the way he fell into the junction of her parted legs. How it had her shifting her own legs now, unconsciously trying to get closer to him now. 

She knew he was attractive. There were things endearing about his personality, things that made her think after laughter, and her heart swell when he got close. But he was, physically, quite attractive to her also. The curl of his hair, the smirk of his lips, of course. But also his broad arms, and large palms. The swell of his lower stomach, the patch of hair below his belly button, the parting of his legs when he sat on the couch. It really wasn’t surprising that she had such a dream about him, not surprising at all. She quite… enjoyed it. Which is why she let her hands linger on him even now, creeping up his shirt to rest on the rise of his lower stomach. To seep in some of that warmth, to try to remember the weight of him above her. 

But she had also dreamed of the kids again. 

She tried to keep note of what she could remember of them. Of pink sweaters and braces and smatterings of freckles that looked like constellations. It faded again though, as she rested against his rising chest. Lulled back to sleep by his steady breaths against her.

June, 1986 

He pulled himself from work that day so they could wander around town and inevitably regretted it once they hit Main Street. 

She had found it amusing that they had stumbled into some sort of reenactment of the 1830s, something he had found joy in, his hands drifting from his pockets to her own hands. But something he was now more than a little frustrated by, watching her giggle every time an old-fashioned dressed-up reenactor passed them by, every man tipping their tophats in her general direction. 

It had him almost fuming, honestly. That they could have his Doc’ blushing and giggling at every turn with ease. His hand had drifted again, pulling her closer to his side as they made their way from booth to booth at this god-forsaken Pioneer Day festival. 

She was distracted by homemade candies at their current booth. Calling his attention and dragging him closer to show him the assortment of sweets she wanted to share with him. Until the booth-keep approached them, his goddamn hat tipped at his Doc’. 

“What can I do for ya miss?” The slightly older gentleman asked politely, taking his tall hat off in the presence of her. 

She giggled again, of course. Glancing back at his flushed form, before glancing back at the clerk about to answer. 

“It’s missus, actually, ya schmuck.” He had to open his mouth. Almost like he couldn’t help it, something bubbling below the surface, his fist clenched defensively at his side, the other still balled up around her waist. 

She seemed slightly shocked at his infringement, flushing embarrassed at his side. He didn’t even think of apologizing, especially when she looked like that. 

“Apologies, sir!” The clerk said, glancing between the assumed couple. “Your lady here needs some assistance, yes?” 

“Wife, pal. My wife.” 

Stuttering, waving away Stan’s charged statement, the poor clerk is crimson in front of them in the July heat and under the scrutiny of a man who is on his last leg with the current fair he finds himself at. 

She seizes the moment, turning back to Stan to push his chest back away and out of the stall, throwing a quick apology over her shoulder in their hasty retreating wake. 

It had been absurdly endearing, how annoyed Stan was all day. It wasn’t easy to derail the man, from what she knew of him. So she had reveled in his apparent annoyance all day. Weirdly protective of the space they took up on the walkway through the fair, trying to shield her from the polite tipping of hats which was custom to do, she figured. Something the reenactors did rather flippantly and without thought. But something that had grated at her partner all day, despite that. So stubbly angry at the gesture that no one else but he thought twice about. 

She had let it continue throughout the day though, and had giggled at how his hand had made for her own, and migrated to her waist sometime during the day when he grew more aptly agitated. A protective hand on her, and when she looked back at him, his face was always a grimace. His usual glare directed solely at the men who would greet her on the street. 

The vendor apparently, had been the last straw. After the poor man hadn’t acknowledged Stan’s presence, in favor of helping and doting on her. Probably a good sales tactic, something Stan knew about also, but something he was blinded by in the moment. Annoyed at being ignored despite bearing down at anyone from her shadow along her back. 

They had enough for today though, she thought, pulling him farther down the street back to the parking lot at the end of Main Street, so they could find their car and head home. She doubted he would want to come back to the yearly Pioneer Days, but she’d try to drag him back each coming year. Reveling at his protective hold, giggling at his flushed face as he declared her as his to everyone who would listen. 

November, 1986

She found him up late, in his office that night. 

He had made a space in a random room on the first floor, close to the kitchen. One of those rooms they had both disregarded and initially put the swell of Ford’s belongings in.

But she had helped him clean it back out a couple of years ago when he opened their home turned tourist trap. Helped anyway he would allow, actually, which was more or less going through old research papers piled high and picking out a nice desk from the flea market to situate in front of the south-facing window. He had moved around just about everything else. 

The walls were still bare in his office, and he had filled the room with some of his old knick-knacks and newspaper clippings he had a tendency of keeping from the comics and punchline sections of the local paper. The ones that made her laugh. That and odd stacks of magazines from jewelers he liked. 

He had been unable to help her downstairs that day, something she did not begrudge him of, especially seeing him now bent over his desk, with his hands catching in his hair. She had called him for dinner, but when he didn’t answer or come within ten minutes she found herself wandering to his office with their dinner in hand. His office door was wide open, as it always was when it was just the two of them. She knocked despite this. 

“Stan?” She asks, balancing steaming plates of food in both hands. “Do you need help with anything?” 

“No, hun.” His head shot up, a smile blooming on his face, but his eyes were weary still from squinting at money margins for the last couple of hours. 

She makes her way closer, plopping his plate right in front of him on the desk, disregarding the odd papers he had spread out all over its surface. She leans herself on the desk, holding her own plate up so she could simply eat where she stood.

“Doesn’t look like it.” She says, pitching her head back to the mess on his desk. 

He’s almost too worked up to eat, not that he’d let her know that. He’d been wrangling around money all day, trying to equate the sum of the last couple of months’ tours into this month's mortgage payment. Something he struggled with last season also, but something he’d gotten worse at hiding from her despite his best efforts. She overworked herself enough as is, he didn’t want this on her plate alongside everything else. 

She did her best to handle the mess he had made downstairs, and he did his best to take care of her. Because she deserved that, after all she’s done for him. Given him four years, put up with his bullshit for four years after his four-second mistake of pushing his brother into another dimension. 

But looking up at her now, watching the darkness from the fall season outside seep in through the window. How she tilted her head down, leaned onto his desk, and basically plopped on top of the hardwood she had picked out herself. She made no indication of regret, in all four years.

Still, something tugs at him, he wanted to be the one to provide in this aspect. Something deep, once hallow in him, something his father had tried to teach him in his old ways. About how to take care of your wife, about how he needed to provide. 

But they were standing in a shell of a house, one that he could not even logically claim as his own. And he wanted to give her more. To celebrate during the holidays without pinching pennies, to give her gifts during these colder winter months, like he remembers his father doing for his mother. To get her those new throw blankets she eyes up at the craft store, to get her that new red pot she says reminds her of her grandmother. It made him feel more like a failure, set something deep in him, that he couldn’t give her some of those things while she so willingly gave him four years.

She wouldn’t relent though, because as determined as he was to take care of her in this semblance, she was just as eager to do the same for him. Something that always made him lean into her, had his hand finding hers instinctually nowadays. Something that no one has done for him since Ford, someone having his back. 

So he tells her anyway because she's smart. Knowing to lean up on his desk like that and bring him food to ply him from his leather desk chair and make him concede in his problems. Something all-knowing about her like usual, something perhaps ingrained in her. 

He leans forward, scooping up food to shovel into his mouth. Maybe he was hungry after all. “I’m having some trouble balancing some books.” 

“What does that mean?” 

“Means I’m short.” Fisting some of his hair in his fist, mumbling around his food. “Holiday season, I’m always strapped for cash.” 

She hums, a fold forming in the ridge of her brows. She takes a moment, leaning farther into his desk, dinner half gone on her plate already. “You?” 

“What?” 

“You, Stan?” She sighs, suddenly looking tired in front of him. Frustrated with something, at the very least.  

He shrugs at her, turning away from her suddenly harsh gaze. But she won’t let him turn from her anymore. She finishes her dinner, discarding her plate farther away on the corner of his desk, reaching over his papers and piles to switch on the shaded desk lamp they also scrounged for. 

She sighs again, situating herself completely in front of him now. Leaning back against his desk again, basically sitting on the papers and books that were causing him strife not even ten minutes ago. His dinner is half cold on his plate now, situated on his own lap as he slumps back in his chair. His eyes move back to her instinctually now that she’s in front of him. The lamp light shining on her frustrated visage. 

“Stan.” She humphs, leaning forward, crowding him into his chair. “You? Just you?” 

Realizing his mistake, his shepherding of problems, continuing to shield them as his own despite him internally admitting he should at least voice them aloud. 

But it’s hard to admit defeat in this aspect, hard to concede control over something she thought so flippantly of as money. It was deeper than that, deeper than the mortgage of course. It was something he had left home in search of, something he still grasped for, and something he had buried asking for help with when he was merely eighteen years old.

His desires had somehow changed and shifted though. The warped image he had of his father, how it had become distorted in the face of his new desires. Desires that looked more and more like her these days. And it was just something he wouldn’t admit defeat to, couldn’t admit defeat. Because then what good was he to her? 

So he stands behind his own stupid idea of self-actualization. Despite it being weak in the shadow of her frustration. “Yes… just me.” 

“No.” 

“No?” He scoffs. “Yes. Just me, only me.” 

“Since when.” 

“Since this was all my fault.” He says, his own frustration pulling him up in his chair. Food forgotten and pushed aside on his desk in favor of getting closer to her. Never yelling, always explaining. And he wouldn’t and couldn’t yell if he was sitting ramrod straight in front of her. He didn’t have it in him, had no desire to watch her crumble like that. “This whole thing, all of it.” Waving his hands around, trying to emphasize the large capacity of the bullshit he had walked them both into. 

She shakes her head. “No, Stan.” He’s unbelievable at his worst, and charming at his best. But his unbelievable was becoming more mounting with every year. And some convoluted part of her mind had reasoned that it actually all hinged on her now. Thinking of that crumpled paper, and that coded string of words Stanford had left her. How he had been right about her all along, how she hadn’t even been smart enough to drag him out of his own hubris. 

“Don’t say it’s fucking yours.” He scoffs, leaning more into her. Placing his hands on her warm thigh, trying to ground her in her thoughts. 

“But it is. It’s my fault.” Choking around what she had believed to be true for the past four years. “I’m not smart enough to bring him back.” 

He surges in his seat, standing in front of her now. Shaking his head as he reaches for her. Folding her in his arms like he always does, her head balanced in the crook of his neck, humming along to soothe her like always. “That’s the farthest thing from true.” 

“But he’d be back! He s-should be back by now…” Voicing her frustration, it echoed around his chest to his ear. She’s warm in her frustration, her hands curling not around him, but up him. Finding the crook in his chest to rest them in. “And you wouldn’t be so stressed… you wouldn’t have to worry about the mortgage if he was here. We wouldn’t have to be here, it’s my f-fault he’s not here yet. It’s why I’ve been down there so often. W-why I hate when you say that.” 

She had confided herself to the basement almost indefinitely since their second year of cohabitation. More recently, it had kept her up routinely at night. First, it would drag her from her sleep, had her wandering down steep steps in the dark of the night in only her pajamas. Now it followed her into her dreams, seeping into her mind, taunting her of a far-off future she could only conjure up in her sleep. One where she succeeded. One where Stan still stood steady by her side, a gold band on his finger. It made her sick, and she knew she had been troubled by all of it for over a year now. 

He had known reasonably, that the reason for her lingering in the dark basement was for some sort of self-validation, something he could never fault her for. But he could fault himself for not dragging her into the light more often, for not being more worried about her pailing complexion and her dark-set eyes. It did worry him, it tugged him from doorway to doorway at night, made him more vigilante in the dark. But he had been so twisted in worrying about providing as of recent, he had forgotten the object of his adoration was weathering away under the weight of her own self-destruction. 

It was hard to let go of that part of his control, of what he felt was his own duty. But he knew there suddenly, looking down at her dark circles, and the way she curled up, looking so small against his chest. Knew that they’d both have to set aside some ingrained biases because in the end, they were both hypocrites. And he didn’t want her to become a mirror image of him in her grief. 

So he sighs, letting his warm hands cradle the back of her. Letting them run through her hair, letting him continue to hum. “I don’t want you to say that ever again because it ain’t true.” 

She sniffs, still goo in his hands. “You too.” She hiccups. 

He won't ever voice it to her again, he swears somewhere in the back of his mind. But it’ll linger for years, the fault in him. “Okay.”

Another beat, another adjustment from her before he voices anything again. “We both gotta help each other.” 

She nods against him, suddenly looking up at him with a weird amusement in her eyes. “Go team, remember?” 

He chuckles, “Yeah, hun. Go team.” 

She hums, finally pulling away from him and taking her warmth with her. Still folded up in front of him, her hands still in that space along his chest. Fisted in his shirt, wrinkled under her grief. 

“I can help with the money.” She says, a smile beginning to grow on her face. 

“And I can help with the portal.” He nods, his hands finding her shoulders, cupping up towards her neck. 

They congregated on the couch that night, discussing a new schedule between them. Something that would hopefully piece her back together, maybe not back to what she was all those years ago bursting in through the front door. She wasn’t herself then either, he reasoned. And it struck him then, with her curled in on the couch, still folded into the junction of his arm, her fingers tracing his palm as she finally breathed even against him. 

She looks most endearing, most like some glimpse of herself, someone he doesn’t quite know yet when she’s kneeled down talking to those kids on their back-lit porch. Halloween had come and gone again and it struck him, like it does every June and October. 

It twists into an idea in his mind, flips his stomach at the idea. Leaks into visions of her in front of the chalkboard downstairs, how she spoke of complex things in fragments for him to digest. How she paces around her chalkboard, spinning new ideas for him to consume. It came easy to her, teaching him, and he had the thought that she just might be the best he’d ever met in all his years. 

“What about teaching?” He hums, twirling his fingers around for her to continue to play with. 

She hums. “I’d be gone a lot of the day.” 

“And I’d miss ya.” He concedes. “But you need this.” He admits, leaning his chin on her head. She needed to get away from the portal, distance herself, and find a bit of life outside of what he had tied her into. 

“And you.” She glances up at him, a smile on her lips finally. Her breath warm against him. And he did, he’d admit. He needed her help with it all. But only if in doing so it helped her, too. Because he'd concede the weight of what he called duty if it shook that warped image of his father. He wanted to prove himself to her, only.

[ericshoney]

Fight ~ Brothers!Sturniolo Triplets

Summary: You get into a fight at school, your brothers find out and aren't happy, until you tell them the reason.

Warnings: Fighting, violence, drama, bullying, name calling, shouting, sorry to all the Jenna's, angst with a happy ending.

~~~~~~~~~~

You didn't mind school that much. Sometimes it was hard, especially with your brothers' fans. You had a few friends who were real with you and didn't care who your brothers were, however, many tried to be your friends due to you having famous brothers.

However, today was a rough day. Your maths teacher was being a right bitch, your best friend was off sick so you couldn't talk to them and your hockey practise had been cancelled, which was one of your favourite things about school. You were planning on just going home at this point, already about to cry. That was until you saw Jenna at your locker, her little posse laughing as they crowd around her.

Jenna was your worst enemy. She wasn't a fan of your brothers, which you were quite grateful for, but she took that as an invite to hate you, which you gladly returned.

"What the fuck are you doing around my locker." You called, walking over.

"Oh, just a bit of, redecorating." Jenna said with a smirk.

She moved out of the way and you saw writing all over your locker. Lots of hateful words and names. Slut. Clout chaser. Dumbass. Many more. Which made your blood boil.

"What you gonna do, go cry to your brothers. They don't give a fuck about you, that's why they left when they could." She said laughing.

"Fuck you." You spat.

"Aww is the little baby gonna cry~" She teased.

"I've had enough with your shit, Jenna! Don't have to like my brothers I don't like you! But you don't have to a fucking asshole!" You shouted.

"Your just an attention seeking whore." She called. Which was the last straw.

You threw your bag down and shoved Jenna into the lockers. She screamed as you punched her in the face and then pushed her to the ground. She tried to defend herself, getting a few punches and scratches here, but you were stronger, you grew up with four older brothers after all. You didn't stop, seeing the blood pour from her nose and lips, until you were pulled off by a teacher.

"Principles office now!" They shouted.

You sighed and grabbed your bag, ignoring the blood on your face from Jenna's nails scratching you.

"Your being suspended for two weeks. You can't go around causing fights. This is your third one." The principle said.

"She fucked up my locker and said shit to me and about my brothers!" You screamed.

"You threw the first punch." He responded.

"Take the two weeks, we'll have you back and you'll still be on the hockey team." He added.

You opened your mouth to argue but he cut you off.

"Argue with me and you'll be benched for the season." He said.

You sighed and slumped down in your chair, watching as he rang home. Nick, Matt and Chris were home in Boston for a while, but you thought they might be hanging out with Nate. So you expected your mum or dad to answer the call. You listened to your principle explain that you needed picking up about a fight. You looked at your shoes until he hung up the phone.

"Your brothers are coming, I will have a talk with Nick." He told you.

Shit you thought. You knew they would probably be mad, but you knew your mum would be upset as it was your third one.

"When you come back after your two weeks, your on thin ice. One more fight will lead to being expelled and off the team." He said.

You sighed again and sat quietly. About twenty minutes later, Nick walked in. You saw he wasn't happy. The principle explained the fight and your punishment before you were allowed to leave. Nick placed a hand on your shoulder as he led you to the car, where Chris and Matt were waiting.

"We'll talk once we get home." He said, his voice scarily calm.

You got in the car, both Chris and Matt gave you a look of disappointment before Matt drove home. It was a quiet ride home.

When you parked up and headed inside, Matt made you sit at the kitchen island as Chris grabbed a first aid kit, ready to clean up your scratches.

"It might hurt." Chris mumbled as he cleaned up the open wounds.

You stayed still, not wanting to make them more angry as he cleaned them up, the blood now removed from your face.

"What the fuck happened?" Matt asked, running a hand through his hair.

You started to explain what happened, from your bad day, to Jenna pissing you off. You were about to explain how she said shit about you and about them, but Nick cut you off.

"You can't go around starting fights just because someone doesn't like us!" He shouted.

"She said shit about me! Wrote stuff on my locker! Said shit about you! I wasn't going to let that slide, Nick!" You shouted back.

"You were defending us." Chris replied.

"Yeah, so what she doesn't like you. But it doesn't give her the right to say shit about you." You responded.

Your brothers fell quiet as you held your head in your hands. A few tears slipping down your cheeks.

"Mum and dad are gonna be so mad." You mumbled.

"I mean....we're not happy, but we get it." Matt said gently.

"It's my third fight." You admitted.

"What?" Nick called.

"Principle said if it happens again I'll be off the hockey team. Mum said if I had another fight I'd not go with you to LA this summer." You answered.

"We'll talk to mum and dad, okay. But what you need to do is find a way to release this anger in a different way. People don't like us, that's fine, we don't care. We have real fans and one is right in front of us. That's all that matters to us and your safety. You can't lose hockey, that's your safe place. But if this Jenna is a real problem, then we need to have a meeting with her parents too." Matt said.

"I'm sorry." You apologised.

"We understand why you did it. It's not the right thing, but we get it. So we can't be fully mad. Plus your not that injured so we taught you well." Chris said with a cheeky grin.

You smiled a bit as you looked at them, the three of them hugging you tightly.

"Well....I now have two weeks off school, so what should we do?" You asked with a small laugh.

"Your most probably grounded, kid. Don't push your luck." Nick answered.

You sighed as they laughed, but you knew they were right. You were just happy they didn't get really mad.

[lowkeyremi]

Compatible choso x fem!reader

remi's note: thank u guys again for 1k AHHHHHHH idk where i'd be without your support!! you guys chose choso so here's the 1k special fic!! i am obsessed with the "best friend's older brother trope" yuji is the best friend :3

content: fluff, meeting, yuji doesn't get a break, etc.

Being one of Yuji's closest friends you've seen his "roommate" as you like to call him, every once in awhile. He would always leave his room to grab something to eat or such whenever you were hanging out with your pink haired friend.

Today you finally had the courage to ask who he was. You and Yuji are sitting very close on his couch, practically cuddling, while watching Inuyasha on Netflix when you suddenly ask, "Hey Yuji, who's that black haired guy who lives with you?"

He doesn't turn his attention away from the tv but instead answers you with, "you know how I told you I have a brother?"

He notices you nodding in his peripheral vision. "Yeah, well that's my older half brother Choso."

"Oh.. I thought he was like your roommate or something." Yuji chuckles, "haha.. technically yeah. I'm crashing with him until I get a place of my own. He doesn't mind though."

This whole time you thought this was Yuji's place, but it does make sense. Yuji's been job-hopping lately. He hasn't had a stable career in seven months.

And speak of the devil, Choso came out of his room without a shirt on, he passes by the two of you on his way to the kitchen then he stops, "Sesshomaru is the best character."

The two brothers argued about this for twenty minutes. Apparently it's a hot take in their house hold. "Inuyasha is obviously better than his older brother!" Yuji yells for the 9th time.

"Sesshomaru is cooler, and has a better understanding of the world. Like me. You only like Inuyasha because you're a younger brother." What he's saying actually does make some sense.

"Yuji, I have to agree with your brother. On top of Sesshomaru being smarter he's also hotter." Yuji looks betrayed in a playful way.

"What?? Oh come on! Not you too. Might as well go hang out with my brother, you traitor." Yuji isn't serious about the offer but Choso makes the offer real.

"I mean, if you're not opposed to it we can hang out? I don't mind joining you two." He's standing closer to the couch now with a mug of tea in his hand.

His shirtless body does something to you, because your mouth hangs open trying to form a response but you close it again not knowing what to say.

"We're good thanks! Go on back to your cave, Batman!" Yuji rolls his eyes trying to get his brother to leave.

"I was asking her, dumbass. Not you." He says getting close enough to kick Yuji and the younger retaliates by trying to block it.

"Um sure, you can hang out with us." You mumble and Yuji whines in defeat.

"Seriously?! I'm your friend not him!!" To your ears it sound like the pink haired boy is jealous.

"Scoot over Yuji. I'll sit in the middle." Choso says with a smirk on his face.

"Nuh-uh! I'm sitting next to [name] you don't even know her like that!!"

That was the first time you'd hung out with Choso Kamo.

---------

That was about four months ago, as of current, you're sitting on Choso's bed waiting for him to grab the snacks you two bought a few hours ago.

When he returns you show him a tiktok that reminds you of him, "Cho, you look like this cat!" Upon seeing the cat he chuckles a little bit, "I do not."

Yuji's started working a night job so you usually hang out with Choso until he gets off of work.

"Thanks for the snacks. I love these ones." He nods politely at you and joins you on his bed. The first time the two of you hung out in his room you were very nervous and sat on his floor as to not invade his privacy. He thought it was so cute how you were acting and invited you up on his bed.

You told him it was a mistake on his behalf because now you make yourself comfortable in his bed any time you come over.

"Do you wanna finish that show we were watching?" You turn to him and catch him staring at you. He quickly turns away and fakes a cough. You've been wondering if your accusations were true.

Yuji tells you that all his brother wants to talk about now is you. Yuji suspects his brother has a crush on you, but when he confronted him the gloomy looking male denied it. Yuji doesn't know that you like Choso.

"Yeah sure, do you wanna, like, cuddle? Platonically, though." You wonder if he's making it clear for you that he doesn't like you or he's just trying to keep you from becoming uncomfortable.

"What if I wanted to cuddle romantically??" You ask with a sudden sprout of bravery.

"Um.. I'd be okay with that, heh." He says shyly, you noticed how his face slightly turned red.

"I like hanging out with you, Cho." You crawl into his lap and he wraps his arms around you. He places his head in the crook of your neck and breathes in deeply.

"I lik- no I love hanging out with you too, [name]."

[whatdoeseverybodywant]

Rebuild & Restore - Chapter 13

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS

❤ Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤ 

All OC Characters belong to me

All Falls Down (Prequel)

Series Masterlist

ONCE AGAIN: A BIG ASS SHOUT OUT TO @paigereeder. When I say this chapter would not have gotten done w/o her!!!!

*The gif is what I picture Josh wearing w/ a pair of black Nike shorts and some slides* (in the first part)

~ Friday Night ~

“I’m gonna take ’em upstairs,” Josh whispered to Kiyana just as the credit to COCO started rolling. Kiyana stretched and looked over to her left, where both of her boys were knocked out, leaning on Josh. Kairo thankfully went down at his usual bedtime. Kaiden and Kamari, on the other hand, put up the biggest fight to stay up later with their dad. 

They had almost made it through both movies when their eyes started to droop. Kamari doesn’t play about his sleep. The second he feels Mr. Sandman knocking at his door, he welcomes him with open arms. Kaiden, on the other hand, didn’t want to miss a moment with his dad. He had fallen asleep 15 minutes into the first movie, but when Josh tried to carry him up the steps, Kaiden woke up, protesting that he wasn’t sleeping and he wanted to stay with his dad. 

Kiyana let out a deep sigh when Josh disappeared up the steps with both of their sons—this whole day had been extremely awkward for her. It had only been about four weeks since they signed the papers, and here they were, about to go out on a date tomorrow night. She loved Josh, and nothing would ever change that, but Josh had hurt her badly, and she was terrified of letting him back into her heart. 

Standing up, she started cleaning up the living room, gathering the trash from the snacks the boys and Josh had devoured and taking it into the kitchen. While she was in the kitchen, she decided to pour herself a glass of wine. She went to grab Josh a Diet Coke from the fridge, popped it open, got him a cup of ice, and brought it into the living room for him, placing it on a coaster on the coffee table. 

She continued to tidy up, and by the time Josh came back downstairs, she was done lounging on the couch and catching up on the newest episode of Love Island. Josh plopped down next to Kiyana. He glanced at her, her features illuminated by the TV’s light. Just being this close to her again made him realize how badly he fucked up. She would always be his Key. But, before she was that, she was THEE Kiyana Jackson. Before she had become this powerhouse of a woman, the best mother to his kids, an excellent cook, and a bomb-ass nurse, she was the girl that scared the fuck outta him. He couldn’t even hold a full conversation with her back then because his brain would short circuit; knees weak, arms heavy, butterflies in an all-out war games match in his stomach. The girl that his classmates convinced him he’d never have a chance with because she was leaps and bounds above his league, and he had fucked it up being a dumbass, proving them right.

“You good?” Kiyana asked him with a slight laugh, and he nodded, feeling his cheeks heat up at being caught staring. 

“Yeah,” he cleared his throat. Kiyana grabbed the remote, paused the TV, and turned her attention to him. 

“Josh.” 

“C’mere,” he whispered, opening his arms for her. “Please,” he added in a hushed tone when Kiyana didn’t move. She bit her lip and looked at him, contemplating whether she should move closer to him. Sighing, she nodded and scooted closer to him, resting her head on his shoulder as he closed his arms around her. The second she scooted into his arms, it was like two puzzle pieces that fit perfectly together. 

Josh fully relaxed on the couch and closed his eyes. This is what he was missing. The arguing, fighting, and cheating were not what he and Kiyana were about. Their being at odds felt so foreign, and it was mostly his fault. 

“What the hell is this show even about?” Josh asked after a couple of minutes had passed. Kiyana laughed and turned her head so she could look at him. 

“It’s about finding love.” She whispered as her eyes dropped down to his lips.  Josh leaned in slowly, his heart pounding as he closed the distance between them. Josh deepened the kiss, letting out a low moan as Kiyana shifted her position and was now straddling him, with her legs on either side of his hips. Josh’s hands roamed down Kiyana’s back before finally resting on her ass, firmly squeezing it while pulling her closer to him. 

Josh’s phone started to go off, making the both of them groan in displeasure. “Fuck..” Josh groaned, throwing his back against the couch. He grabbed his phone out of his pocket, breathing heavily as he read the text message he just received. Kiyana arched her eyebrow as he ran his hand through his hair. 

“What?” 

Josh bit his lip as he looked at her. “Don’t be mad.” He whispered. “But I’ll be right back.” Josh saw the look of disappointment and doubt in her eyes, and he immediately cupped her face and tried to ease her worries. “Don’t do that. I promise it ain’t about no bitch. I’m forever about you. I just got something I gotta handle.”  Kiyana rolled her eyes and removed herself from his lap, settling back on the couch and crossing her arms over her chest. “Key,” Josh called out softly, cupping her chin and turning her face so she could look at him. “Trust me, I’ll be right back.” Kiyana narrowed her eyes but eventually nodded her head.  

“Fine. I guess I’ll see you when you come back.” Josh smiled and pecked her lips. 

“30 minutes tops.” 

“Mmhm,”  Kiyana hummed, and Josh couldn’t blame her for her suspicion. He had been disloyal and ruined their relationship. But this was something he couldn’t tell her because she would definitely try to keep him in the house. Josh sighed and stood from the couch. He bent down and placed a kiss on her forehead.

“Be right back, Key.” She nodded and pressed play on the remote, continuing her show while he walked over to the key hook and grabbed his car keys. Kiyana let him keep his truck in the garage while he was on the road because someone broke into it the last time he left it at his apartment. 

As Josh walked into the garage,  he knew that no matter how much he reassured Kiyana, there was a lingering doubt in her mind—a scar from past betrayals. Settling into the driver’s seat, he pulled out his phone and re-read the text message he had received. 

Ms Deb(key’s co-worker): Dr. Daniels gets off in 10 min. Do what you want with that information… oh and he drives a black infinity w/ blacked out windows. Plate: DRDAN.  Ms Deb(key’s co-worker): delete this thread… and treat my girl right! 

Josh smiled at the later message and started his car before backing out of the garage and driving towards the hospital. 

Elijah smiled as he made his way out of the hospital. He had a pretty good day: three successful surgeries, and his wife came and surprised him with lunch with his children. That smile was quickly wiped off his face the closer he got to his car. 

“What the fuck do you want?” Elijah seethed, eyeing Josh up and down. 

Josh smirked and pushed himself off of Elijah’s car. “I told ya’ bitch ass I was gonna catch you again, didn’t I?” Josh sneered as he walked into Eli’s personal space. Elijah gulped as he looked around. Josh had a good 20 pounds of muscle on Eli, and to be completely honest, Eli didn’t want to walk around with another black eye. 

Eli held his hand up and took a step back from Josh. “I don’t have time for this,” Elijah said, trying to steady his voice despite the nerves tightening in his chest. “You need to leave.”

“I ain’t going nowhere.” 

“Look—” Tired of hearing Elijah’s voice, Josh lunged at him, landing a right hook on Eli’s jaw and knocking him to the ground.  

“Yeahhh,” Josh cackled, clapping his hands together. “Getcho’ ass up. You wanna put your hands on women? Come put ya hands on me!” Elijah staggered to his feet, his fists clenched in anger as he lunged at Josh, who quickly ducked it and tackled him to the ground. There was nobody here to stop Josh this time. Josh threw punch after punch, getting all his anger out on this low life. 

“Alright, Alright. Enough..” Josh felt someone grab the back of his shirt, trying to stop him from punching Elijah. “You got him, relax.” 

Josh stopped swinging, his chest heaving with the adrenaline and fury, and looked down at Elijah, who looked like he was one punch away from a permanent coma. Elijah’s face was a swollen mess, eyes barely open, and he lay motionless, save for the shallow rise and fall of his chest. 

Josh felt his shirt being tugged again, and he let the person move him off Elijah. 

“Damn,” Josh looked, and it was the security guard who broke up their fight last time. “He’s lucky you beat his ass in front of the hospital.” The security guy joked, cracking a smile while holding his hand out for Josh to shake. “Main Event Jey Uso, nice to meet you man.” 

Josh’s eyes widened. “Hey Uce-” 

“I already paused the cameras; as soon as I get back to my desk, I’ll delete the footage. I hate women beaters. I lost my mom that way.” Josh’s expression softened, and he shook the guy’s hand. “I’m happy your ex has someone who sticks up for her. If only my mom had someone.” 

“I’m sorry you had to deal with that—” Josh paused, as he didn’t know this guy’s name. 

“Adrian, and hey, it’s cool. You did what you had to do. But uh. You might wanna get outta here. I gotta call this in.” Adrian finished off, holding the walkie-talkie up, and Josh nodded. He glanced down at Elijah, who was starting to move, before giving Adrian a nod, jogging back over to his truck, and leaving. 

Kiyana sat up and looked towards the entryway to the living room when she heard the front door open and close. She knew it was way past thirty minutes because she had watched two more episodes of Love Island. She heard him set the house alarm before he started walking towards the living room. 

“You said thirty minutes.” She muttered before her eyes widened as he walked closer to her and she saw how red and bruised his knuckles were. “Dude, what the fuck?! What did you do?” 

“What I had to.” 

“Josh -” 

“He put his hand on you! He could not get away with that shit Key. I did what I had to do.” Kiyana sighed and gently grabbed his hand, leading him up the stairs and to her bedroom. 

“Sit,” She said, pointing to the bed and Josh quickly obliged. Kiyana then walked into the ensuite bathroom and grabbed the first aid kit before walking back over to Josh and grabbing his hands. 

“You mad huh?” Josh asked, biting the inside of his cheek as he watched Kiyana clean off his knuckles. Kiyana didn’t respond immediately, her gaze focused on cleaning his knuckles. 

“I’m not mad. Just wish you would have told me. Would have loved to get a couple kicks in.” She looked up meeting Josh's eyes and chuckled at the shocked look on his face. “What? I was in shock when he actually grabbed me and he walked away before I could actually T off on his ass.” She said as she stood up and climbed into bed.  Josh stood up as well. He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. 

“Shoot, next time I’ll let you know then.” He said as he started walking towards the door. 

“Woah! Where are you going?” She asked and he stopped. 

“Was going to the guest room.” He said as more of a question and Kiyana started shaking her head and patted the spot next to her. “Fo’real?” Josh asked, a big ass smile coming onto his face as Kiyana nodded her head. He practically rips his shirt over his head before he throws himself onto the bed next to her, his heart swelling in his chest as he hears her giggle. It has been forever since he’s been the one to make her giggle. 

~ Saturday Afternoon ~

“So you really thinking about giving him another chance?” Kiyana sighed and set down her make-up brush before meeting her mother's eyes in her vanity mirror. 

“Yes,” Kiyana replied softly, her fingers absentmindedly adjusting the brushes in front of her. “Mom -” Kiyana started but Imani held her hand up, stopping her. 

“No, You’re gonna listen to what I have to say, Kiyana Marie.” Kiyana shut her mouth and turned her body so her side was leaning against the back of the vanity chair.  “That man” her mother continued, her voice dripping with disdain,  “Has done so much damage to you. Cheating on you while you were carrying this little angel.” Kiyana rolled her eyes at her mom’s dramatics.  “I was here Key, I seen what his infidelity did to your confidence. I saw the way you frowned at your body when you walked past the mirror and now he gets a second chance for what? To do it all over again.” 

Kiyana felt her shoulders sag as he mother’s words sunk in. “So you think I’m being stupid?” 

“No baby girl. I don’t think you’re being stupid. I just want you to not rush back into this with Josh. I know y’all still love each other and you had to stay in contact with the kids but still remember to put yourself first. Don’t just get back with him because you know Kaiden and Kamari are going to be happy.” 

“I am putting myself first Mom. It’s not just about my sons being happy it’s about me being happy as well. Yes, Josh fu- messed up but everyone deserves a second chance. Isn’t that what you told me? After Dad cheated on you, you stayed. You told me that everyone deserves a second chance.” Imani’s eyes lowered to the floor as Kiyana continued. “Dad has two kids on you and you still stayed. Josh cheated and had no kids. And I tried to move on, but I love Josh and can’t change that.” 

“I just want the best for you Kiyana. And you’re right, I did forgive your father but I don’t want you to be like me. But I understand that you are a grown woman and you need to make these decisions for yourself.” 

“Why are you making it seem like I’m making a mistake?” Kiyana asked, getting irritated with her mother. 

“I’m just saying. You need to learn for yourself. I’m not the only one who thinks this either. Kenyatta feels the same.” Kiyana snorted and turned back around so she could face her vanity again. 

“You mean the serial cheater? He cheated on every girl he was ever with Mom - you know what.” Kiyana paused and took a deep breath. “I’m gonna get dressed now you can go.” 

Imani scoffed “Kiyana” she called out, as Kiyana stood and walked into her walk-in closet. Kiyana rolled her eyes as she came back out with her dress in her hand, hanging off the hanger. “I just don’t want to see you hurt again,” Imani said, to which Kiyana ignored. Imani sighed, picked Kairo up off the bed, and left the room, shutting the door behind her. 

As the door clicked shut, Kiyana took a deep breath and tried to steady her racing thoughts. The sound of her mother’s voice still echoed in her mind, a mix of concern and frustration. She slipped her dress on, trying to focus on the soft fabric against her skin rather than the knot in her stomach.

~ Saturday Night ~

“You can do this,” Kiyana whispered to herself. Her mom had just yelled up the steps, telling her Josh was there. Kiyana could hear her kids going crazy after not seeing him all day. “It’s just Josh. You been on plenty of dates with Josh before.”  Taking a deep breath, Kiyana smoothed down her hair and checked her reflection in the mirror one last time before walking out of her bedroom and walking down the steps to meet Josh. 

She felt herself blush as he let out a low “Damn.” before clearing his throat and walking over to meet her at the bottom of the stairs. “You look beautiful, Key. Doesn’t she look beautiful?” He then asked his sons and they nodded their heads. 

“You look very pretty Mama,” Kaiden said and Kiyana smiled and him, bending down to press a kiss on his head, 

“Thank you, Bean” She then turned to Josh. “You look nice too.” Josh’s cheeks heated up at her compliment. 

“You ready to go?” He asked and she nodded.

“Be good for grandma.” She said to her kids, giving them a quick hug before stepping out the door with Josh. The short walk to his truck was silent. Josh opened the passenger door for her and grabbed her hand, helping her into the truck. 

“You ready to go?” He asked and she nodded.

“Be good for grandma.” She said to her kids, giving them a quick hug before stepping out the door with Josh. The short walk to his truck was silent. Josh opened the passenger door for her and grabbed her hand, helping her into the truck. 

 Kiyana stole glances at Josh as he drove, admiring the way the streetlights illuminated his profile, casting shadows across his chiseled features. At a red light, Josh reached across the console and gently grabbed her hand lacing their fingers together. Kiyana’s heart skipped a beat as Josh’s fingers intertwined with hers. The warmth of his touch sent a thrill up her arm. She glanced at him, catching a glimpse of the soft smile playing on his lips.

“I’m happy you agreed to this date,” Josh muttered, breaking the silence in the car. Kiyana bit the inside of her lip and she looked over at him. 

 "I'm glad too," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. Josh smiled and started driving again as the light turned green, the butterflies in his belly intensifying as he felt her squeeze his hand.

“Thank you,” Kiyana smiled at Josh as he pulled out her chair for her. The restaurant he picked was nice and cozy. It was one that neither of them had been at before. He wanted to choose a new restaurant so they could make new memories and weren’t plagued by old ones. 

As Josh settled in his seat across from her, he felt like the luckiest SOB in that restaurant. The second he and Kiyana had walked in, all eyes turned toward her. She had turned so many heads, he couldn’t stop himself from laughing at one couple, when the woman reached over and plucked her boyfriend or husband on his forehead when he wouldn’t stop staring at Key. 

“Can I get you guys anything to drink?” The waiter came over and set the free bread down on their table. Kiyana ordered a white while while Josh decided to order a water with a lemon. He wanted to stay sober for the conversation he knew they were going to have. 

As the waiter left, Kiyana took a deep breath and looked directly into Josh’s eyes. The dim candlelight cast a soft glow on her face. “I um- I know we agreed to try to move on, but I think we need to talk about everything first.” She said and Josh nodded. She closed her eyes and took another deep breath. “What happened? What made you.” She paused as if she couldn’t bear to say it. “What made you cheat on me?” 

The waitress quickly set their drink down and left as she heard Kiyana’s question. The waitress figured they could wait to eat. 

“Oh god,” Josh whispered, sitting up straighter in his chair. “I don’t know if she told you, but I talked to Samara about this already,” Josh stated to which Kiyana nodded. 

“She told me a little. She also told me to just hear you out.” 

“I- I honestly never meant for anything to go that far. Before this conversation continues, I need you to know that. I need you to know that I will forever beat myself up for doing that to you.” When Kiyana nodded he continued. “I just wanted to vent Key. I just wanted someone to talk to about what I was going through without being told to think about your feelings. And yes it was selfish of me but nobody cared about how I felt. God, it’s so fucking selfish but I just wanted someone to talk to and it went too far.” He finished, not breaking eye contact so she knew how serious he was being. 

“But four months Joshua? You were going on the road fucking her then coming back and fucking me.” 

Joshua looked down, his hands trembling slightly. He knew he had hurt Kiyana deeply, and the guilt weighed heavily on him. “I fucked up Key, I fucked up so damn bad.” He looked back up at her. “But I’m willing to do anything and everything to prove my love and loyalty to you again. I already talked to my boss and a couple of the higher-ups. She been harassing me n’shit and I filed some paperwork against her. She can’t come near me or she’ll be fired.” 

Kiyana felt her face scrunch up at what he said. “So y’all were still messing around?”  

Josh started shaking his head ‘no’ immediately. “Hell no. I stopped messing with her around the time I told you about the affair.” 

Kiyana narrowed her eyes as she looked at him, trying to see how sincere he was being with his words. After knowing him for almost twenty-four years, she knew when he was lying and right now he wasn’t. He was telling her the truth. 

“So what about you telling her that you were gonna divorce me for her.” 

“I never said that.” He answered immediately. “I told you back then that I never said that. That was some dumbshit she said and Joe must’ve overheard her.” 

Kiyana went to ask her next question but was interrupted by the waitress. “Sorry, but um- would y’all like to order now?” Josh and Kiyana broke eye contact to look at the waitress. Josh let out a deep sigh a nodded before ordering a steak meal for himself while Kiyana ordered a pasta dish. The waitress hurried up and scurried away.  Kiyana looked back at Josh and asked her next question. 

“Do you regret it?”  

“Of course I do.” Josh's voice was filled with regret as he met Kiyana's gaze, his eyes reflecting the pain he had caused her. “Do you regret sleeping with Joe?” He asked, just as she took a sip of her wine. Kiyana’s eyes widened as she heard his question. Did she regret sleeping with Joe? 

“I don’t regret it.” She finally said, swallowing a lump in her throat as Josh’s jaw clenched. “You hurt me badly Joshua. Like, I was hurt and confused and he was there. It wasn’t about getting back at you because he’s your cousin. It was,” She paused as she tried to find the right words. “It was you had your fun, so why couldn’t I.”  

Taking a moment to compose himself, Josh locked eyes with Kiyana, his gaze intense yet vulnerable. “I understand” He whispered. He reached across the table grasping her hand in his. “I want us to move past all of this. Do you want there to be an us? Do you want to move past this?” 

Kiyana squeezed Josh's hand tightly, feeling a mix of emotions swirling inside her. After everything they had been through, the hurt and betrayal, she knew that a decision needed to be made. She took a deep breath and met Josh's gaze. “Yes, I want there to be an us again. I want us to be able to move on from this.” 

Josh's eyes softened, relief washing over his face as he heard Kiyana's words. “Deadass?” 

Kiyana chuckled, nodding her head. “I’m being so deadass right now.” 

“I swear on my life, you won’t regret this Key. Imma do everything I can to prove that I love you and I want you.” 

As they sat there holding hands, a wave of relief washed over both Kiyana and Josh. The weight of their past mistakes and the pain they had caused each other seemed to lighten ever so slightly. They both knew that rebuilding their relationship would not be easy, but they were willing to try. 

“Are you staying here tonight?” Kiyana whispered as she and Josh walked to the front door of her house. 

“If you want me to,” Josh replied and Kiyana nodded, grabbing his hand and leading him into the house. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of her ass. Loving the way it swayed as she walked. She kept a firm grasp on his hand as she set the house alarm and walked up the steps. Both of them peeked into their kids' rooms to make sure they were tucking in and sleeping. 

Josh’s heart was beating extremely fast as Kiyana led him into her room.  Kiyana turned to face Josh, her eyes almost black with lust. She closed the distance between them, her body pressing flush against his, and Without a word, she reached up and tangled her fingers in his hair, pulling his face down to hers and kissing him. Kiyana moaned softly into the kiss, her body trembling with need. She broke away, panting lightly, her eyes locked on Josh's.

“You sure?” He asked and instead of giving him an answer, Kiyana undid the back of her dress and let it fall down her body. Josh watched as the dress fell to her feet, leaving her in just her white lace thong. 

“I’m sure” She whispered before capturing his lips again in a searing kiss. 

KiyanaJackson_

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user: she is 2 fine!

trinity_fatu: girl! 🔥

user: WHO TF WOULD CHEAT ON HER? A DUMBASS THATS WHO!

marrraaa_ : fuckable 🤤

Sorry for any grammar and/ or spelling mistakes. I am dead tired and I wanted to get this chapter out.

Sooo how was this chapter? Give me y'all honest thoughts!...

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Seven Warlords of the Sea

*edit: because I like an idiot forgot Akainu didn't actually want the warlord program destroyed 😭

the real reason that Akainu *should have* voted for the destruction of the Warlord program is, besides them being filthy pirates, they were also just fucking embarrassing.

Like pathetically, how did we let this happen, embarrassing In the amount of time we have known them, between the 12 total Shichibukai;

4 of them got their asses beat by the same dude (1 of them before he even became a warlord)

2 of them went on to openly work for/ with said dude

1 of them literally fell in love with and actively sabotages efforts to apprehend this same dude

At two separate points they have actively tried to recruit (and succeeded once) the sons of two of their biggest ops.

Not to mention how 1 of them also got their ass beat by said dude's brother and then they would lose 3 more on the same day over the war for the life of said brother who was the same son they tried to recruit

2 of the Warlords would then go on to harbor/ mentor a member of this dude's crew and the dude himself! Arguably when he was the most wanted criminal alive. While the member that should have been the most robotically compliant protected the dude's pirate ship with his life.

They got played four different times on a world stage by 4 different members and 3 of said times all involved THIS SAME DUDE!

2 of the times involving the take over of a country that was then foiled by said dude while the marines did nothing.

They've had to imprison 2 of them and brainwash a 3rd

They've had to shop for replacements 7 whole times just in the span of 3 years

At no point have all seven members attended a meeting. Hell Hancock has attended not a one.

During the months before their disbandment there weren't even 7 of them! there were only 5

They are pretty sure 1 of them is fucking an emperor, 1 of them was working for an emperor, 1 of them might be (it is unconfirmed) the illegitimate son of a now dead emperor and another is protected by The actual fucking Dark King.

They literally had to fire Moria for being a fucking embarrassment

And one of them is a fucking clown

that would go on to recruit 2 other former warlords to create a guild that encourages the hunting of marines for sport and rise to the ranks of emperor.

Of course Akainu hates their fucking guts. They are quite literally the stupidest group of people he has ever had to work with in his life and they seem to bring out new levels of previously unreached stupidity in the marines! Just a cesspool of failure and incompetency trying to call itself a program.

95% of the reason Sengoku retired was to get away from these fucking idiots. He was drowing in the sea of paperwork Mihawk alone was causing not to mention the rest of their dumbasses and Akainu isn't about that life.

And that brings me to reason number 184 of why Akainu *should have* voted yes on disbanding the warlords

dealing with the fucking paper work storm and international incident that hit Sengoku's desk everytime Mihawk decided that needing to be fucked outweighed being subjected to an idiot. Nah Akainu needed them gone like yesterday.