#Four is not being a dumbass for once | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

saintobio · 11 months ago

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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.

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#love and deepspace x reader #love & deepspace x reader #lads x reader #lads x you #sylus x reader #sylus x you #sylus x yn #lds x reader #l&ds x reader #l&ds x you #sylus angst #sylus fanfic #l&ds sylus

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withahappyrefrain · 1 year ago

Text

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

#my writing #Bob Floyd #Robert Floyd #Robert Bob Floyd #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd x you #Bob fucks #robert bob floyd x reader #bob floyd imagine #bob floyd fic #Bob Floyd smut #bob floyd x y/n #bob floyd x female reader #top gun smut #top gun fanfiction

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defmaybe · 9 months ago

Text

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.

—

#ningning #ningning smut #ningning x reader #aespa #aespa smut #kpop fanfic #kpop smut #male reader #male reader smut

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jellykyunnie · 7 months ago

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˗ˏˋ Entry : 053 - Lover! Genius HSR Men x Dumbass! Fem! Reader: What do I do with you?... ♡ ˎˊ˗

[ Veritas Ratio, Dan Heng, Aventurine, Sunday ]

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚ 𝕍𝕖𝕣𝕚𝕥𝕒𝕤 ℝ𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠 ˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

For most students they dread the sudden random pop quizzes on mondays and fridays; but for a certain class they feared Veritas Ratio discovering their homeworks more than the monsters hiding underneath their beds. If there is a choice between dancing with the devil in scalding hot slippers vs having Veritas see your test results— They would much rather tango with the fiend than the latter.

But what about you? You who is the apple of the genius's eyes? How about your poor soul who has that grim reaper hovering over your shoulder almost 24/7?

"My dearest darling..." Veritas sighs as he pinches the bridge of his nose while glancing at your mock test results. "We have gotten over 16 of these questions atleast for 3 hours..."

Ah yes, the familiar expression he does when he's about to nag you to no ends.

"But calculus is so hard!" You whine in protest, batting your puppy eyes on him hopes it works and that the violet haired man feels weak on the knees. "Please understand that I am not born with the same godly braincells you have, your divinity!"

"...." His nose scrunches at the flattering nickname, eyebrow twitching as he attempts to resist your charms.

It's working right?... Right?

It must be!

"If it weren't for the fact you had an impeccable english essay I would be scolding you to no end" Veritas lets out another heavy sigh. "Come, I'll go over these questions once again."

This calls for a celebration, atleast he spared you— To some degree.

Veritas read multiple articles as of late pertaining to individuals who have weak academic skills, he needed to understand idiots in order to teach idiots.

And since you were one... He has to try.

Did it work?

Surprisingly?

It did.

All he needed to do was to baby down the terms and teach you the solutions and terms four times over and over until you understand and can solve the problems by yourself.

Veritas is thoroughly impressed by your effort, or maybe you're just trying hard because you're scared of getting an earful from him?

It doesn't matter.

"Hm." He hums, inspecting the set of questions he made for you to solve. "I'm impressed, dearest. You're actually smarter than I thought, we'll work on your speed for the following day— Oof!"

Veritas sputters as he felt your body suddenly jump towards him. He lost balance for quite a bit but steadied himself on a desk while his other hand instinctively grasped your back.

"Is this your attempt of seducing me not to scold you?" He says, a tinge of pink on his cheeks as he tries to prevent his lips from twitching a smile.

"No, I just want to cuddle you" You mumble, nuzzling him further.

"Ugh" Veritas complains (right, as if he's not enjoying the affection) before returning your embrace.

He reckons you must have been tired from using the best capacity of your brain to understand the complicated calculus formulas he shoved down your throat in the past three hours.

For being a good student, you need some rest due rest and affection— From him of course. Who else would?

"Good job today" Veritas praises, his voice dropping into an affectionate tone as he pressed his lips on your temple.

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚ 𝔻𝕒𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕟𝕘 ˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

Dan Heng is done with life. No not really, he can't leave you, not with your grades anyway. What'll happen to you if he's not here?

He scrunches his nose a little as he sees the pathetic score on your physics quiz. If he leaves you to your own devices, you will end up repeating a grade.

Dan Heng can't have that, he plans to spend all of his schoolyears by your side.

Separation anxiety they call it.

He takes a deep and tired sigh before looking down on you who is sulking on his lap like a defeated puppy.

What is he to do with you?

With how adorable you are right now, how can he resist you?

"Lift your head up," Dan Heng gently says, petting your hair lovingly. "Let's study together, hm? It'll be... Fun"

He wasn't the type to treat studying as a game. But after tutoring his dumbass friends: Caelus, Stelle, and March— He knows just how to play along and make efforts to get someone like you to study.

If he can get those nutheads to straighten up; then you would be no different.

As mischievous as you are, you also listen to Dan heng the most.

After a few more cooing and kisses (And maybe a threat that he wont let you borrow his jacket anymore)— You finally agree to his request.

It's for your own good anyway.

Dan Heng is very patient with you, making sure to slow things down and using multiple analogies to get you to understand. Calculations are complicated in the first place, he doesn't expect you to get it right the moment he teaches you.

Having trouble recalling the basics? He'll explain it to you.

He even goes as far as teaching you some calculation techniques to help you and most importantly he is teaching you shortcuts to make everything easier for you.

Solving problems is just finding a pattern anyway, as long as you recognize it— Then the rest will come easy.

And as he expected, after a few hours of trial and error— You have finally managed to get a score of 4/5 in the practice sheet he provided.

"Not so bad, is it?" Dan Heng said in that monotone but affectionate voice of his, placing a plate of your favourite snacks down on the empty space beside you. "You're doing so well."

"I'm sorry for bothering you..." You apologize, slumping down.

"No, it's alright," The ravenette boy shook his head and kissed the top of your head out of habit, "I like studying, especially if it's with you."

"You're just saying that to make me feel better" You pout, earning a soft smile from him at how cute you are.

"I'm not" Dan Heng mumbles as his lips stayed on your head. "Let's do this more often together. I am able to focus more when you're around me"

He's really just saying that just to make you feel better. But you can't really read him even if you're both dating him.

And Dan Heng knows you're doubting him no matter how sincere he is.

It doesn't matter.

He'll just have to make a way for you to acknowledge. For now though? Dan Heng is more than satisfied to just spend his time with you like this.

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚ 𝔸𝕧𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕖 ˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

"Pfft...." Aventurine snorts as he sees your worksheet littered with angry red marks and the pathetic score of 12/60 for the chemistry assignment. "Kek...."

"I hate you, we're breaking up" You mumble, earning a loud laugh from the damn peacock himself.

"Baby!" Aventurine cackles, nearly falling over as he laughed while his ome hand remains in your wrist so you wont leave. "Come now, don't be so prissy. It's not really my fault you zone out during class!"

"You're supposed to comfort me!" You whine, making him laugh even more.

"This one becomes reduced and this one is oxidized, you do know the difference, right?" Aventurine points out on the paper. "Hm?"

"No..." You say shamefully, feeling more depressed at your own stupidity.

Aventurine sees your spirits dwindling down and he takes a seat on the chair before patting his lap, "Here, I'll teach you"

"No, I don't trust you" You point a finger at him.

"I got a perfect score for the worksheet" His heterochromatic eyes curve into lovely crescents, "This unit is very complicated and requires a lot of thinking and pattern recognition. It's quite easy. Trust me, yeah? I never mistreated my pretty little girlfriend before after all"

You wanted to sulk.

As mischievous and philantropic as your boyfriend is, there's no mistaking that Aventurine is part of the top students in contrast to his lax personality.

No one can really mock him with his excellent grades no matter how much they hate his guts.

In the end, you relent, perching yourself on his lap as Aventurine grabbed a spare piece of paper and a pencil. He started explaining everything from the very top and making sure you are keeping up.

You thought he would be joking really, but Aventurine is serious. He made sure to quiz you after explaining a concept just to make sure if you are able to keep up. If not, then he wouldn't make fun of you and instead gently remind you.

Chemistry is a complicated subject, even he has to double check his solutions every now and then just to make sure the calculations he did aren't wrong.

He's fine with teaching you really.

It's his duty as your boyfriend to spoil, pamper, and love you as well as making sure you aren't lacking in your studies. It's not for his pride and image, he could care less about what people think. He just doesn't want you to have a breakdown over your low scores.

If there is anything he hates more than anything, it's seeing your tears fall down when he can fix it.

And this just so happens to be something he can solve easily.

"There we go, there we go~" He praises, giving your lips a chaste kiss as a reward for doing the practice questions right. "See not so bad, is it? You just needed a bit of some guidance you silly girl"

"...Thank you" You sheepishly say, making Aventurine pause as you cuddle up to him

Even after all this time, he still becomes weak whenever you become affectionate with him.

"Ah, what ever shall I do with you!" Aventurine cuddles you even tighter, swaying you left and right over his frustration over your cuteness. "Should we go out? I'll get you a birkin and then let's eat at your favourite buffet restaurant. You've been such a good girl today, I should spoil you."

"A birkin?!" You pale, looking at him as if he has lost the screws in his head.

"Don't think I don't know how you are looking at those birkin unboxings, babe" He taps your nose lovingly with the tip of his finger. "Now let's go!"

"Aventurine!!!"

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚ 𝕊𝕦𝕟𝕕𝕒𝕪 ˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

"Erm... What to do...." Sunday takes a deep sigh as he sees the state of your pathetic quiz paper.

Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.

All of it was wrong.

Biology is really quite simple, but how come you're not able to keep up?

Sigh.

"I'm sorry..." You apologize in a weak voice.

You tried your best really, you reviewed as much as you could and banged your head on the wall multiple times without the halovian man looking to try and get the terminologies and cycles right.

"No, no" Sunday immediately says, lifting your face up with his palm. "It's alright my love, there's still time. You can make it up on the test."

"But..." You sulk, and he immediately shakes his head.

"Scores are just scores, we can improve them" He smiles gently, kissing your forehead. "Come sit down with me, I'll teach you."

"Sorry for bothering you" You slump down as you sat on the chair he directed you to.

"No need" Sunday keeps that kind smile on his pretty face. "Our professor is very fast on discussing stuff, it's no wonder you are struggling to keep with the lessons. He also gets sidetracked with his life stories a lot... So it's alright"

He's just trying to make you feel better, and Sunday knows you feel that way.

"Here, let's start with rna" He opens the textbook on the pages he needs.

Genetics can be quite tricky if you don't have the fundamental knowledge, so Sunday started with the basics before ramping it up steadily to the complicated terms and processes.

He made sure to take a few minutes of break for the knowledge to sink in, he even fed you some snacks to keep you energized during the long tutoring.

He himself can't help but eat while studying after all, and it proves to be an effective method since you're able to retain more terms.

He didn't doubt you for a second, nor was he impatient.

Sunday took it as slow as it can be and lets you explain back what he just taught you on the top of your head. It's better to study in repetition with biology after all. Even Robin finds his teachings effective, so of course it will work on you too.

"We'll finish for today" Sunday closes the textbook and starts cleaning up the desk you two shared. "How do you feel?"

"A little better..." You admit, leaning on his shoulder. "You're always looking after me, I feel very childish"

"I apologize, I can't help but pamper you" He rubs his head against yours while his little ear wings flutter about at the closeness between you two. "Besides, I'm also reviewing when I'm teaching you. So it's not a loss for me. Studying can be quite lonely, it's better if we do it together."

"I'll do my best on the test, I promise..." You say, earning an even lovelier smile from your lover.

"I know you will," He kisses your forehead, letting his lips linger. "Don't pressure yourself too much, just do what you can. And then after test, how about I take you out on a date? I found a really good museum to visit nearby"

"Really?" Seeing you perk up, Sunday feel even more happy— His little ear wings fluttering even more as he cant contain his excitement to spend time with you.

"Yes, winding down after studying is extremely important" He stands up and offers a hand to you, "Speaking of which, we should head down for dinner. A hearty meal is a very much deserved rewad for you on working hard today"

He always knows what to do or say. It's like Sunday has magic whenever he talks, he can easily make you forget all the sadness and guilt you had earlier for the extremely low score you had for your biology quiz.

Yes.

There is no mistaking it.

Sunday is truly the best boyfriend there is.

꒰ 🪼 A/N: Another hsr post after my short break because I felt lazy and unmotivated to do anything and because I was doing hw (◞‸◟；). Figured I might as well make a study comfort fic with these smart bois hehehehe. Idk if I did Dr. Ratio well, I hope I did.... I'm going to read up more abt his charac info in the game. I've been busy building Sunda as of late so heheh... I still have to fix his planar set kek. But he is thankfully on 204% cdᕦ(ò_ó)ᕤ. He and Robin make the perfect team!!! For anyone curious, my lineup is Aventurine, Dan Heng, Robin and Sunday ദ്ദി(｡•̀ ,<)~✩‧₊

ʚ(੭´͈ ᐜ `͈)੭ .｡✧: ~ —! stories written by kyunnie; translations, reposts, plagiarism are strictly forbidden.

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demie90s · 2 months ago

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Birthday All Week

꒰ 🍒 ꒱ Spoiled!Nika Mühl X READER ꒰ 🍒 ꒱

MASTERLIST, ALL PARTS

⭑ pairing: Nika Mühl x Reader (rich!fem!reader)

⭑ summary: You hate your own birthday—refuses gifts, avoids attention, and always tries to refund people who do too much. But when it’s Nika’s birthday week? Oh, it’s on. You may not think your worth the effort, but Nika? You’ll spoil her like royalty.

⭑ genre: Soft luxury, birthday fluff, lowkey angst, team dynamic, slow-burn sapphic romance

⭑ warnings: Gift-giving, self-worth themes, mild language, Nika being Nika

⭑ word count: 0.8k

I don’t like my birthday. I don’t want the attention, the gifts, the dinner invites where everyone awkwardly sings and makes me sit in the middle. I hate it. Every year it creeps up and someone tries to do something sweet, and every year I Zelle the money back. I don’t want people spending on me. I don’t even like when they try. “Don’t waste it on me,” I always say, and I mean it. “I’m not worth that.” And maybe that sounds dramatic, but I’m being honest. If y’all are okay, I’m okay. Keep your money. Keep your energy. Keep the damn balloon.

But I still celebrate everyone else. All of them. I have gifts wrapped a week before Paige’s birthday. I remember Azzi’s coffee order and deliver it with handwritten cards. I once flew KK’s favorite snack from another state and had it waiting in her locker with a dumbass note that said, “Happy Birthday, I guess.” It’s not about the money. It’s about the fact that I know what they like. And I like knowing. I like making other people feel good. I just don’t want anyone doing it for me.

Which is why the way I celebrate Nika makes everyone stare like I’ve lost my mind.

Because Nika’s birthday? I treat it like the damn Super Bowl.

It’s a week-long event. Not a dinner. Not a gift. A whole curated, color-coded calendar of chaos. Day one starts soft—her favorite coffee waiting by her bed, a neatly folded hoodie she’d mentioned three months ago, and a note that says, “You thought I forgot.” She didn’t even realize it was a thing until day three. That’s when the bracelet shows up. Custom, obviously. One of the charms is the number 10, one is a tiny little crown, and the last one is a heart in my handwriting. She opens it in the locker room and the whole team goes quiet.

KK blinks. “You got a whole ass bracelet?”

“She got me a charm bracelet,” Nika corrects, voice smug like she doesn’t already have four more gifts waiting back at the dorm.

Azzi turns to me. “You let us pass your birthday with nothing but a granola bar and a side hug.”

“I told y’all I didn’t want anything.”

“You say that every year.”

“And I mean it every year.”

“But you want this?”

I glance at Nika, who’s holding the bracelet like it’s breakable, staring at the engraving like she’s memorizing it. I don’t even hesitate. “Yeah. I want this.”

By Friday, it’s obvious. I’ve gone too far. I always go too far. The restaurant I rented for just us has a view of the city, her favorite wine, and a chef that literally bowed when we walked in. Nika’s stunned the second we get there. She tries to argue—says I’m crazy, says I should’ve saved my money, says it’s too much. And I just look at her and say, “It’s not enough.”

She laughs at first, thinks I’m joking. But then dessert comes and I hand her a small box. Inside’s a ring. Sleek, simple, her style. On the inside it says, “Mine, even when you’re mad.”

She doesn’t speak for a second. Just slips it on and stares at me like she’s trying to read something I haven’t said out loud.

“You really hate your own birthday and then do this for me?”

I nod. “Yeah.”

“Why?”

I shrug. “Because it’s you.”

And that’s the thing no one gets. It’s not about proving anything. It’s not about making her love me back. It’s not even about being romantic—at least not all the time. It’s about the fact that when I do things for Nika, it doesn’t feel like I’m wasting anything. It doesn’t feel uncomfortable or too much or like I’m being seen in a way I can’t control. It feels natural. She asks for nothing and deserves everything. She never expects the gifts, never posts them, never brags. She just looks at me like I’m made of something important.

And that? I’d spend my last dollar to see that look.

The team catches on, of course. The whispers start in the locker room the next day.

“She got sneakers for every day this week?”

“Bro. Her name is embroidered on that hoodie.”

“You know she won’t even let us pay for a Chipotle bowl on her birthday.”

“She once canceled a surprise dinner for herself.”

“VENMO’D ME BACK FOR A CANDLE.”

I just sit there, tying my shoes like it’s a normal Saturday and not the day after I gave my favorite person in the world a ring with a pet name engraved inside it.

Azzi turns around, arms crossed. “What would happen if we planned something for your birthday next year?”

I don’t even look up. “I’d leave.”

KK cackles. “And yet Nika gets spoiled like she built the damn team.”

“She did,” I mutter.

Nika walks in wearing the sneakers, the ring, and the bracelet. She doesn’t say a word. Just smiles at me and sits down like she hasn’t already taken up the entire week and all the air around me.

Azzi watches her. Then watches me. “She doesn’t even like birthdays.”

“She likes mine,” Nika says casually.

And that’s it.

That’s the truth.

I hate mine. But I love hers. And I’d do it all again next year. Bigger. Louder. More private jets if I have to. Because she makes me feel like giving isn’t a burden. Like the act of choosing her is enough.

And if that’s all I get out of it? That’s more than I’ve ever let myself want

#nika #nika muhl x reader #nika x reader #nika mühl #uconn basketball #uconn x reader #wbb x oc #wbb imagine #wbb x reader #uconn wbb #wnba x oc #wnba x reader #wnba imagine #wnba fanfic #Gxg #we are gay

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alisonwritesimagines · 7 months ago

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Stages of Grief ~Batkids Imagine~

Inspired by this comment from @martaellyimnotabot left on my AU If Bruce Cheated on Batmom:

I believe that the bat kids would be REALLY mad with Bruce, like "HOW COULD YOU CHEAT ON MOM???" Would be nice to see the bat kids reaction on it.

Summary: The kids go through the stages of grief when you leave Bruce and disappear without saying anything to anyone.

Author's Note: This is a part two and not canon to my Batmom series!

Part One

They were in shock at first on how you disappeared. They first checked your hometown but you were smart to not go there when you left the mansion. They checked the safe houses but found nothing. You had really done your research in disappearing away from the family. Especially from Bruce.

The kids sadly began to go through the stages of grief after a couple days of you gone.

First was stage number one. Denial.

“Mom wouldn’t just leave us,” Tim said to everyone as they were together. They had tried to find you again but no avail.

“You’re right. Maybe she’s just on some kind of vacation to get away,” Dick suggested.

“Unless someone kidnapped her,” Jason said, looking at the negative side of life.

“I can ensure you all that your mother has not been kidnapped,” Alfred said, interrupting their little meeting.

"Alfred? Where's mom then?" Cassandra asked him.

"I'm afraid I cannot disclose that with any of you. She is not ready to face you all just yet," Alfred said before leaving.

The second stage of grief came next. Anger.

“It’s all Bruce’s fault! How could he have cheated on mom?!” Jason yelled.

The batkids had just learned of why their mother left. Bruce had cheated on her with Selina who is pregnant with his baby. Dick was the one who found out when he spotted Selina with a bump.

“For once, can he just choose mom?” Jason asked angrily.

“Jason. We’ll find her. You need to calm down,” Tim said.

“Calm down?! She has always been there for us and he drove her away!” Jason yelled angrily.

“You don’t think we’re upset about this either?” Cassandra asked upset.

“You sure don’t act like it,” Jason jabbed.

“We’re all upset dumbass! You’re not the only one who looked up to her as a mom!”

“Fuck this! I’m going solo for a while,” Jason said as he walked off.

Bruce barely had any of the kids by his side during patrol. He was lucky to have one by him who followed orders.

After their anger had finally died down after two months, bargaining came next.

“Alfred. Please. We just need to know if she’s okay,” Stephanie asked him.

“I’m sorry. I was given strict orders from Miss Y/n to not say anything until she is ready.”

“Until she’s ready? Alfred please,” Tim begged.

“I’m sorry Master Tim. But what I can say is that she is safe and is doing well,” Alfred said.

There were few who quickly passed the anger, denial, and bargaining phase. The two being Dick and Damian who went into the depression phase quickly.

“I miss her,” Damian says to Dick.

He had never cried before. Damien was raised that crying was a sign of weakness. But you had told him otherwise and had told him that it’s okay to cry every once in a while. You told him that it was good to be sad sometimes.

“I know buddy.”

“Why would she leave us though? Did we do something wrong? I know father cheated on her but why punish us?” Damian asked with watery eyes.

“You heard what Alfred said. She just needs to be alone for a while. She’ll come back to us soon,” Dick comforted.

“I’m surprised you’re not as mad as Jason,” Damian said.

“I’ve know Bruce and mom longer. I’m just more sad that she can’t trust us to share where she is. But I know it’s because Bruce would’ve followed us over to her,” Dick tells him.

"Do you think she'll come back for us?" Damien asked.

"Soon. She'll come back to us soon."

Dick put an arm around Damien as he comforted him. Damien silently cried as he missed you. He wanted you to hug him and tell him that you were always going to be there for him no matter what.

After four months of you being gone, the kids had finally accepted the fact you were gone. That was until you had came back to the mansion and gave Bruce the papers for full custody over your unborn child and papers for divorce. Alfred gave your new address to the kids who rushed over afterwards.

“We missed you so much,” Cassandra tells you as she hugged you.

“I miss you all too. I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you all. I needed to make sure I was in a secure and safe place before I could see you all again,” you explain.

“So we’re gonna have a new sibling soon?” Jason asked as he looked down at your bump.

“Yup. I found out after I left Bruce,” you tell them.

“I hope it’s a boy,” Damian said.

“I hope it’s a girl. We have enough boys here,” Cassandra said.

“Either way, I’m going to love my baby as much as I love you all,” you tell them.

"Please don't leave us like that again," Dick says as he hugged you as well.

"I'm sorry again. But I promise to tell you all everything that you need to know from now on," you tell them.

"That's all we ask. We love you mom and we don't want to lose you," Tim says.

"I'm sorry for worrying you kids. But now, you can visit me whenever you want," you tell them with a small smile.

"I can get a place close to here for you ma," Jason said.

"Whatever makes you comfortable. Hardly any crime here and everyone has been nice," you assure to them.

"It's a thirty minute drive from Gotham so I'll move somewhere in between so if you ever need us, we'll help you," Jason tells you.

"Thank you sweetie. I appreciate that," you say to him.

"What do you have planned now?"

"Well Bruce offered to give me alimony so I don't have to work. But I'm thinking of doing something to keep me busy," you tell the kids.

"Well if you need us at any point, call us and we'll drop everything for you," Tim says.

"Thank you," you say, smiling at them again.

#batkids #batkids imagine #batfamily #batfam x reader #batfam imagine #batmom #batmom imagine #batman #batman x reader #batman imagine #dc #dc imagine #wayne family adventures #alisonwritesimagines

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letmetellyouaboutmyfeels · 3 months ago

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So You Wanna 'Revive' Your Show

Hi Tim. This took me like ten minutes because I actually have two brain cells to rub together. <3

Give the 911 call center more to do. Linda and Sue especially in my opinion.

Go back to what made the show great in the first place which was the core characters becoming/being a family.

Mix up the dynamics. Remember Chim and Bobby's friendship in season one? Hen and Athena's bestieism? Bring that back along with some lesser seen dynamics. I want more of Chim and Karen's friendship. Have Maddie and Bobby work together on something. Pair Athena and Eddie together and have Athena realize just how like her husband Eddie is (and maybe in doing so they help each other get perspective on other things).

Give Bobby a promotion and have him deal with that (although so soon after he quit being an advisor and was clearly enjoying being captain might not work but something to consider).

Have Athena retire and become a private investigator.

More fun filler episodes. A bottle episode where they have a boring day at the station. An episode made up entirely of B shift or the non-firefam members of A shift like SG-1's The Other Guys. An episode entirely from Jee-Yun's point of view showing a young child's perspective of crazy silly adult drama. Boys Night Out/Girls Night Out a la Leverage. "Alternate universe" episodes like Bones' season four finale and Castle's Blue Butterfly episode.

Keep Buck single for a while and give him a safe haven baby. Another way to bond with Hen and Karen over adoption, another way to bond with his sister, and another way to bond with Bobby by making him a grandfather. And oh, hey, Eddie, you want to help me coparent?

Maybe stop having all of Eddie's important shit happen offscreen, I don't know if there's BTS beef or what but grow the fuck up and keep it out of the script. Professionalism, heard of it?

Make Buddie canon. Yes my bias is showing but it's what a large percentage of your audience and media reporters have been clambering after for years. Put guns to heads if you must. Jesus. You want to revitalize the show that's literally the number one way to do it. You dumbasses.

Okay I always said I didn't want it and I still don't but fine. fine! do a musical episode! if that's the price of Bobby's life I'll fucking pay it!!!

Maybe relearn the concept of arcs that last an entire season and not just two-three episodes.

Michael and David have a destination wedding and every single firefam member encounters some kind of emergency, either life-threatening or comedy-of-errors, that means they all show up looking like they got run over by trucks.

RASHOMON EPISODE. For either dramatic or comedic effect. Or both.

Everyone loved the heist episodes like The Taking of Dispatch 9-1-1 and Ocean's 9-1-1. Like come on you fuckwit let the show be fun again.

Actually commit to giving any of the main characters a pet. I know everyone wants Buck but it could be Athena and Bobby, Hen and Karen, Maddie and Chim... personally I would love to see Eddie get hit by the Cat Distribution System.

Firefighters do charity drives all the time, go to schools to do talks about fire safety - show the team interacting with the local community more. Show the parents interacting with their kids' schools or the parents of their friends' kids a bit more. I want to see Eddie and Karen fight the PTA.

It's not hard. That's what gets me. You don't actually worry about the show becoming stagnant. You just wanted to do a really big shocking holy shit episode that everyone would be talking about, forgetting that truly good shows earn those. Shit shows that pull that kind of nonsense lose their audience and get cancelled. You did it because you're a mediocre, boring, never-quite-popular-enough egotist with an inferiority complex who was luckily born with a dick so you fell upward your entire career, and you orgasm to other people's pain.

And for once in my life? I hope cast/crew do know my tumblr. I hope they are on here. I hope they fucking read this, and I hope they print it out and tape it to your office door and every other door on set they can manage like Martin fucking Luther. I want you to go to bed at night knowing you are despised and that a starving barely-breaking-even idiot who wrote a stripper!Buck fanfic knows more about television writing and comes up with better ideas than you do.

To quote David Lynch, fix your heart or die.

#so. I snapped.#this holds even if by some miracle they retcon Bobby's death #I fully believe Bobby is dead and it's not a fake out #but even if it is this is a deeply awful way to manipulate and toy with your audience #it shows you don't respect us #and I am really sick and tired of showrunners not respecting their audience

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sillygoofyqueer · 8 months ago

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My headcanons for Wei Qingwei!!!! Here (1), Here(2), Here(3), Here(4), Here(5), Here(6), aaaannd Here(7) (Thank you DB for linking them all in one post) *Cracks knuckles then sobs violently because god I hate that sound* Hey honeypies, I'm back with WQW lore - BACKSTORY!!!!

Okay, Wei Qingwei grew up in a little village near Cang Qiong mountain but just out of range of their territory, with no other sects wanting to risk claiming it to offend Cang Qiong or insinuate that they couldn't protect their territory. With no cultivators to protect their little village from threats, there was often a monster attack every other week - surely everyone would move away, right? No. No. The people of the village had nowhere else to go, and with cultivators ignoring their plights they had to just try and make do with what they had, living in terror of possible attacks that could happen at any time. Nobody wanted to trade with a village that was rumoured to be cursed - so cursed that not even the sects wanted to step foot near it - so food and supplies were just as scarce as peaceful times within this village. Wei Yi's parents didn't mean to bring a child into this awful place, but they took one look at the little life they had made and they couldn't bear to leave him. So, they carefully carved a small safe space in the world for their son, trying to keep him away from the horror and the fear that reigned across their village. There was only so long the child could remain oblivious, however. Hunger had become more than a normal thing to feel, making its home in his stomach and gnawing a hole that couldn't be filled with whatever crops managed to grow that year; children were so few and far between, and even less of them survived, so there was little hope for Wei Yi - people didn't want to get too close to him, not wanting him to be just another life to mourn. Children were always the most vulnerable to monster attacks, after all. Of course, Wei Yi learned at an early age that there was no use complaining; what could his parents do but hold him tighter when he first cried from the hunger that followed him around? Better to keep quiet and cherish anything given to him. And know when to hide from the monsters. Fear became a natural instinct and the overwhelming pressure of it weighed him down from a young age, leaving him darting away from any sign of danger - be it a twig snapping in the forest or a growl in the distance, he would run and hide. The fear always became worse in the dark because monsters thrived on hunting in the darkness, creeping, sneaking, stealing people from their beds. Monsters loved vulnerable victims, and Wei Yi had many scars to prove that. People were surprised that he made it past five, and every year of survival left his parents feeling more hopeful for the boy, the child that they had tried to protect from the harsh realities of the world. He was so meek though, so desperate for human connection outside of his parents but not finding it anywhere else in the village; there were no people his age, let alone any friends for him, so he found safety in looking for signs of a monster attack, and entertainment in poking around the small crop farm his parents had managed to grow. PART TWO HERE!!!!

#four being a dumbass #wei qingwei my blorbo #that's right fuckers #I did something for once #this really really ran away with me #you'll see what I mean in part two #is it really Four if I don't make it angsty #uhhh #tw food insecurity #I guess #I love him #scum villain self saving system #ren zha fanpai zijiu xitong #scum villain #mxtx svsss #svsss #wei qingwei

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0tivez · 3 months ago

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and there was only one sleeping bag

synopsis: you're sent on a mission with levi. once nighttime arrives, you realize you've forgotten your sleeping bag. will you be too proud and sleep on the ground in freezing cold or accept levi's offer to share the sleeping bag?

characters: levi

warnings: afab reader, tight space, unprotected sex, handjob (giving and receiving), mdni

wc: 2k

note: yes it's been literal years, yes it's out of nowhere. but tbh i needed this more than you guys probably will enjoy it. maybe not my best work but give this hag a chance, i haven't written ANYTHING in years. also yeah sorry about that.

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you let the cold soil embrace your feet. you feel all your tiredness leave your body and flow into the ground, as the heat of the bonfire levi has set leave soft, familiar kisses on your bare face. it’s been a long day of riding around the forest for a preliminary investigation for titans before the expedition begins once more, hoping it’d decrease casualties. erwin has assigned his two best soldiers for a daytime exploration, levi and you. you should have been back to the main camp by now, but two 15 meters had other plans. if only you weren’t caught by surprise, it would be child’s play, but you were. eliminating smaller threats, you were ready to return back when two fuckers appeared out of nowhere and attacked you. thankfully, you had managed to survive with minimal damage. as much as you wished you could travel back during the night when it’s the safest, you were too worn out to continue without some rest. so, you planned to rest for a few hours before heading back while it was still dark.

levi was wandering around the forest to look for dry branches while you let the heat relax your muscles. you hear levi coming back with a bunch of wood in his arms.

“we should have been on the move. i should feed you to any titans we’ll see tomorrow.” he nags. his tone is always serious, yet so un-intimidating to you. you stop taking his threats seriously when you receive them everyday.

“aah, you probably won’t have a hard time. i probably taste better than you anyway” you respond. levi clicks his tongue in response, you can feel his face go sour without even looking at him.

“we should sleep. the fire should scare wild animals away.”

“no night shifts? i thought you weren’t tired.”

levi scrunches his nose and furrows his brows. “i’m not going to spend four hours staring into the fire. i’ll try to sleep a little too.” you shake your shoulders in response.

levi turns around and approaches his horse as you take off your jacket and lay it on the ground. levi stands above you with a shocked face.

“what the hell are you doing?”

you look at him, confused. “making my bed.” only then you see the green bag in his hands. “what’s that?”

“it’s my sleeping bag, dumbass. where’s yours?” right, sleeping bag. the warm, cozy bag you sleep in. the one that’s resting in your tent back at the main camp.

levi sighs before you can even say a word. he hands the bag to you. “what kind of a soldier are you? take mine, i’ll sleep on the ground.”

you take offence immediately at levi’s mean remark. “it was supposed to be a daytime mission! i didn’t want to carry too much weight. and i don’t want your stupid bag. i’ll sleep on the ground.”

“tch. you’ll freeze to death. stop being annoying, take the bag.”

you throw the bag at him and turn your back against the bonfire and lay on the ground. levi’s not surprised at your stubbornness, he also knew you’d be shivering before he even fell asleep.

and you did.

levi saw your body trembling on the ground, he knew you’d be too proud to admit being wrong.

“just come here. sleeping together will make us both warmer.”

you humph and get up. levi has unzipped his bag and opened it to let you in. only then you realize, he’s half naked. you only see his pale skin and chiseled abs before turning around and letting a tiny scream out in shock.

“what the hell, you perv? why the fuck are you naked?”

levi sighs. “to increase heat circulation inside. you should take off your clothes if you want to get warmer too.”

“the hell? i’m not getting undressed you freak!”

“god, i won’t look. stop being annoying and get inside or i’ll just sleep here by myself.”

you stomp your feet on the ground in annoyance and quickly unbutton your shirt and get rid of your pants. you find levi with his eyes closed waiting for you to enter his bed. so you do. you snuggle inside the bag and zip it.

your cold back gets in contact with levi’s warm, bare chest. the space is too tight for things to not be erotic. it’s just, undeniable. you can feel every curve of his abs on your back, and you can’t help but notice how perfectly your ass is positioned in front of his bulge. you’re sure levi is aware of it too, but tries not to show it.

the awkwardness only increases once you and levi realize that his arm’s stationed in a weird position. he mumbles something you can’t make out and drops his arm down. his right arm is now wrapped around your waist. the sudden touch of his skin on your waist sends shivers down your spine. all the blood rushes to your cheeks, you can’t help but feel aroused by this sudden situation.

you turn your head to glance at levi. to your surprise he’s not asleep, not even pretending to be asleep. he simply has his brows furrowed, looking directly onto your face. your eyes meet for a second, before both of you move as if on command, directly against each other.

levi’s hot lips press upon your shivering lips. levi sucks in all the coldness out of you. his kiss is enough to send shivers down your spine. you feel the heat rise from below, slowly creeping up your spine. levi’s hand that’s wrapped around your waist tightens its grip. he’s gently kneading the soft skin around your torso before crawling up on your chest. you try to breathe in between kisses. it feels like levi’s on a mission to choke you out with his lips. he shows his incredible stamina once more, he hasn’t broken the kiss for a moment, and you’re a breathless loser.

you hold levi’s hand on your body and guide it on your boobs and under your bra, allowing him inside somewhere you never thought you would. levi’s fingertips play around your nipples as he bites your lower lip, sending too many signals to your body all at once. you free your right hand and grab levi’s face, pushing it further into yours. levi’s hand explores all over your breasts; kneading them and tracing around them as if he was trying to picture it in his mind. and god, you don’t even know how much levi wishes he could bury his face on your chest right now. because he can’t suckle on your nipple, he compensates with your soft lips instead. he sucks on your lower lip that has gotten wet and slippery from his sloppy kisses. he tugs, bites, and sucks on your lips. he’s too drunk on you to realize how much your soft moans have aroused him, he’s too focused on pleasuring himself with your lips.

you can feel his erection grow bigger on your back, fighting for you to play with it. you trace your hand down his body from behind your back down to his underwear. you play around the edge of his boxers as he continues to mark your lips. it’s the first time you hear him moan once you slip your hand inside his boxers and palm his erection. you let his cock fill your cold hands. his dick pulsates on your hand with the sudden touch of coldness. you can feel his eagerness, and how much he was offended at how easily you made him moan. you got a glimpse of his sly smirk on his face before he quickly sent his hand down your underwear as well. you rub his cock up and down as he takes his slender fingers down your wet folds. he nuzzles on your neck and sucks on the soft spot right down your jaw. he puts his wet fingers on your clit and starts circling around it, teasing you to beg for more. you don’t beg nor response, only let your fingers continue rubbing his cock. except this time, you let your fingers wait a little longer on his tip, which you figured out was his sensitive spot once he moaned with your first touch. levi instinctively bites your neck in frustration, and accepts his defeat. he starts applying pressure on your clit before rubbing circles on it. you feel the numbing pleasure wash over you.

it doesn’t take longer than seconds before levi whispers “fuck it” with a raspy and furious voice. he frees his throbbing dick and quickly moves your panties to the side. his pebbled sweat drops on your naked shoulder, yet it doesn’t bother you. you were now gasping for the cold air that once almost killed you.

levi lets out a low moan as he enters his tip. the tight space gives you very little room to move around, you have nothing else to do other than take it, take him. levi slips his cock inside with a swift motion without trouble. his masterful fingers have already prepared your hole for him. levi sighs out of relief and lets your warm, wet cunt welcome him. he enjoys the sight of you squirming next to him, waiting desperately for you to move. your eyes are shut close, eyes filled with tears, forehead covered in sweat, and lips agape with lust. he takes the sight in.

he thrusts his hips in the confined space. even though his movements are limited, he hits the spot too well. you scream in pleasure, so much that levi is almost scared he hurt you. he hastily moves again before you moan “more, levi, please” that drives him mad. he pushes his hips steadily, every move so powerful and effective. he pushes his thumb on your clit and starts playing with it. bolts of shock travel through your body, the pleasure almost too unbearable. his cock stretches your walls every time he enters you. your soft skin slaps against his balls with every thrust, the mumbled slapping sound echoing through the silent forest. the only other noise that fills the void is your desperate moans that call for his name. “levi, levi, levi…” his name never sounded better.

levi once again locks his lips with yours. he’s working all around you. your body is locked with his, you are under his control fully. his unreal stamina weakens you. you grow weaker as he continues to drill into you. you make sure to stay conscious enough to savor his low moans on your lips, a mission too hard for you at this moment.

your body is at its breaking point, and levi knows it. he knows you’re close, but he won’t let you cum until he’s ready too. he can feel your body as if it was his, or at least you think. he measures every movement; it’s almost like he can also feel when you’re close because that’s when he breaks his pace. that’s when the numbing feel in your chest dies down a little, only a little before levi picks it up again. he plays around with your body. he chases after you, he tries to catch up to you.

“levi, please” you beg him, and the sight of you drives him to the edge. you lay beneath him, face turned against him, your nails digging on his biceps to control yourself, cheeks wet from tears and sweat. you almost look like a painting, so beautiful and delicate.

levi doesn’t hold himself back as he made you do. he lets you clench around his cock with all your power before breaking apart under him. he empties himself inside you with a low moan that harmonizes with yours. you both crumble under the lustful touch of the other, fingers traveling around your bodies still.

your body finally falls limp. you’re gasping for air, almost as if you had just left a battle. levi releases hot breaths on your skin as his head falls on your neck. his soft lips touch your neck as he speaks again in a low and ordering voice as usual.

“i might have to reconsider feeding you to the titans.”

i missed levi so much i love him so much aot is still the most goated anime of all time ong and levi HHRRRAGAGGGHHH WOOF WOOF BARK BARK

#spicy #aot #snk #aot smut #snk smut #levi #levi ackerman #shingeki no kyojin smut #attack on titan smut #levi smut #levi x reader #levi ackerman smut #aot levi #aot imagines #snk imagines

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stillalivebydemand893 · 30 days ago

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Camping chaos

18+(repost)

Story:Camping with the Campbells means forgetting tents, drinking too much, and way too much yelling. Erik forgot the tents because “adulting is hard, okay?” Now four people have to sleep like sardines,and nobody’s happy about it. A camping trip Erik won't forget

“HAVE I NOT TOLD YOU A DOZEN TIMES TO BRING THE TENTS, ERIK?” you shouted across the fire which Bobby had just barely avoided setting ablaze in his failed attempts to get it going.

“I FORGOT, OKAY? SOME OF US HAVE JOBS NOW,” Erik shot back, tone laced with defensiveness—and just enough drama to make your eye twitch. This was typical. You two bickered like it was an Olympic sport, and you were both going for gold.

It was the annual Campbell sibling camping trip, and, as Julia’s best friend—practically a part-time resident at their house—you’d been unwillingly adopted into the tradition. The problem? There were supposed to be four tents. But thanks to one very specific, very brain-cell-challenged idiot, there were only two. Meaning now, the four of you had to squeeze in like sardines.

“Erik, you literally work four days a week, bro,” Bobby muttered while fiddling with his half-assembled tent.

You were now stuck sharing one with Julia. And while you loved her like a sister, the girl snored like a bear in heat. There was no way you were surviving the weekend without entering full-blown sleep-deprived gremlin mode.

“I swear to God, Bobby, I will shove peanuts down your throat. Whose side are you on?” Erik snapped.

You and Erik had... a thing. Complicated, messy, undefined. He was like the male version of you, if your male version were infuriatingly hot and missing half a brain cell at any given moment. Of course, you’d never say it out loud. But Jesus, sometimes the man made you want to throttle him—and other times, kiss the smug off his face.

“Can everyone chill and crack open a beer or five? Where the hell is my vape?” Julia groaned, rummaging through her bottomless pit of a bag.

“It’s in your back pocket, love,” you sighed, pointing without even looking. This family was pure chaos, and you were somehow always the designated sanity.

Erik was already cracking open his second beer. Man could hold his liquor like it was a second language.

“I’m going for a swim. Who’s coming?” he called out, already pulling his shirt off like he was in a movie. Your eyes, traitorous as ever, lingered a beat too long.

“Take a picture, sweetheart,” he whispered as he brushed past you, low enough for only you to hear. “Might come in handy later... you know, when you’re thinking about me at night.”

“Fuck off, Campbell,” you snapped, trying to sound annoyed—despite the fact you’d already taken a mental snapshot. Strictly for... research purposes. Obviously.

“Erik, you’re going to catch a cold! Can you not make us call the damn helicopter again like last time?” Julia yelled from your tent—now hers and yours, thanks to Erik’s ongoing streak of being an unprepared, chaos-loving dumbass.

Last time, Erik managed to poison himself with wild mushrooms because “a fairy told him to.” The fairy? Bobby. Dressed in your stolen skirt and Julia’s cropped tank top, blackout drunk and twirling around the woods like a forest nymph on a bender. It was... unforgettable. Unfortunately.

“Come on, peach,” Erik called back with that shit-eating grin, already halfway to naked. “We could skinny dip and finally get you that UTI you’ve been lowkey dying to experience.”

It took everything in you not to march over there and rip those nipple piercings out with your bare hands. The man had a gift—he knew exactly how to bring out the absolute worst in you.

Not that you could pretend the idea of sex with Erik hadn’t crossed your mind. Frequently. Unfortunately. But admitting it would be a dangerous game. One whiff of that secret and his ego would skyrocket so hard it might kill the rest of you on impact. You’d kissed him once, back when you were seventeen, during a game of Seven Minutes in Heaven at his cousin’s birthday party. It was your first kiss, and of course, Erik had made it unforgettable. His lips had been too soft, his hands too confident, and those seven minutes? Not nearly enough for your already hopelessly hormonal teenage self.

“I hope a fish catches your dick piercing and bites it off,” you called after him sweetly.

He flipped you off with both hands and dove into the lake in his boxers like a reckless idiot. Typical. He was going to get sick. And—what was this? Worry? No. Shut that down immediately.

The night rolled on like a drunken fever dream. Julia was hogging the tent, FaceTiming her boyfriend Jack and giggling like a schoolgirl. Bobby had passed out in a chair by the fire, one sock missing and a marshmallow half-melted on his hoodie. You and Erik? Locked in a beer pong showdown with the intensity of a deathmatch.

“Come on, sweets. You can’t beat the king,” he bragged, arms raised in victory pose, grinning like he owned the world.

“So you’re admitting you have an alcohol problem,” you shot back, lining up your toss. “Told you those AA meetings would do wonders. I already signed you up online.”

He chuckled, low and dangerous. “My only addiction here is you. And you’re keeping me on the edge, peach. How long till you finally give in?”

Your laugh caught in your throat. The air between you crackled. He wasn’t joking this time. His voice was steady, his gaze sharp. He looked too damn good in the firelight—like something carved out of temptation itself. Moonlit, tousled, eyes too dark to be safe.

“Keep drinking. Maybe you’ll black out and wake up sane—” you started, but your words died as he stepped in, smooth and sudden.

His hands found your waist. His face was inches from yours. Your heart stuttered like it forgot its job.

“I’m dead serious, peach,” he whispered.

You blinked. Something was... off. He was never this forward. For all his cocky lines and annoying winks, Erik usually pulled back before things got too real. This version of him? Eyes locked on yours, voice low and heavy with something unspoken? That wasn’t part of the script.

Your hand rose instinctively to his neck. Jesus, he was burning up. You pressed your palm to his forehead.

“Fuck, Erik. You’ve got a fever,” you whispered, torn between concern and the selfish desire to not move away from him.

He blinked, dazed. “That’s why I’m spinning…”

And then he dropped like a sack of bricks.

With some unholy combination of adrenaline, panic, and brute strength, you managed to drag his feverish body back to his tent, muttering curses under your breath the whole way.

I swear, when he wakes up, I’m going to strangle him to death. You thought it as you let his feverish body collapse onto the mattress.

The tent was way too small for two people. You cursed whatever version of yourself agreed to this trip. And fine, yes—you were now climbing on top of Erik, straddling his lap like this was just another Tuesday. Maybe you were sick too. Mentally, emotionally, hormonally—you were hitting the trifecta.

You sat on him, knees digging into the thin mattress, struggling to peel off his damp shirt. What am I doing? you thought. I should leave him outside to convulse like the feral man-child he is. But you couldn’t. You loved him. Unfortunately. Stupidly. Quietly.

“Come on, babe,” you whispered, shaking his arm gently. “You’re drenched and I need to change your shirt.”

“Peach…” His voice rasped out of nowhere, low and sinful. “If you wanted to ride me, you could’ve just asked.”

Of course he’d say that.

You froze, mid-shirt tug, watching him blink up at you through heavy lids. He propped himself on his elbows like it was no big deal he was half-dead and burning up.

Changing his shirt should not have been intimate. But it was. His skin was flushed, hot to the touch, and he was letting you take care of him without the usual sarcasm (okay, less sarcasm). If it weren’t for the fact that he was radiating the heat of a small furnace and swaying every ten minutes, it might’ve been… sweet.

Once he was in a fresh shirt, his hands found your waist again.

“Peach, I’m freezing… I think I’m dying,” he muttered, burying his face between your breasts like some fever-stricken, needy golden retriever. You went red instantly.

You ran your fingers through his hair, trying to focus on anything but the very present, very real bulge pressing against you. Not now. Not the time. Get a grip, Y/N.

“Erik, babe, I need you to take some aspirin and go to sleep. Can you do that for me?” you pleaded, already preparing for a battle of wills.

He looked up, eyes gleaming with mischief despite his pathetic state.

“And what do I get in return?” he asked, voice dark and teasing, the corner of his mouth curling like a villain mid-monologue.

“What do you get—? A punch in the fucking face!” you snapped. “I dragged your ass all the way back here like some fever-ridden caveman rescue mission!”

But then—of course—came the puppy eyes.

Those stupid, weaponized puppy eyes you hadn’t seen since he guilt-tripped his dad into buying him a BMX bike on his twelfth birthday.

“Please, sweets,” he murmured. “I need you… I’m so cold.”

His grip tightened, pulling you flush against him, the heat between your bodies making it very hard to pretend you were unbothered. You bit back a noise, something between a groan and a prayer. The friction was torture.

“Cold and bipolar. Jesus Christ,” you muttered under your breath.

You gently cupped his face, making him look at you again. He was flushed, pupils dilated. Beautiful in the worst way.

“Okay,” you said softly. “Take the aspirin… and we can cuddle. Just cuddle. Until you feel better.”

That was already more than you should’ve offered. For your sake. For your dignity. For your heart.For your already soaked penties.

“Fine,” he agreed almost instantly, shocking you with the lack of protest. You handed him the pill, and he downed it, that stupidly sharp Adam’s apple bobbing as you pointedly looked away.

Then he flopped down onto the pillow with a dramatic sigh.

You slid off his lap with great internal mourning, turned off the lantern, and whispered a desperate prayer to the camping gods above.

Please. Just one night. Let him stay still. Let me survive this. And maybe—just maybe—let me keep pretending I’m not in love with him.

How could someone be so devastatingly cute and Satan’s favorite problem child at the same time?

You lay there, eyes squeezed shut, trying to pretend Erik wasn’t practically glued to you. He’d clearly decided sleep was optional. His fever had gone down, but apparently, his urge to test every ounce of your willpower was still running dangerously high.

He was pressed against your back, body heat leaking into you like you weren’t already overheating. His arms were wrapped around your waist like he was trying to fuse your souls together. His head rested in the crook of your neck, his breath warm and slow.

You were boiling. Not from the sleeping bag. Not from the night air. From him. You didn’t know if you’d make it till morning without combusting. Or worse—doing something you'd pretend to regret.

“Peach…” he murmured, voice low and soft—too soft. Then his lips brushed your neck, just barely there, but still enough to set fire to your spine. “Thank you for taking care of me tonight.”

And then, as if those words hadn’t already punched you in the heart, he bit your earlobe. His mouth moved to your neck, slow kisses landing like small detonations across your skin.

He kissed you like he needed it to breathe.

You gasped, your back arching into him before you could stop yourself. His bulge was right there, against you, undeniable now. Your body betrayed you instantly.

“Erik,” you whispered, voice shakier than you’d like. “You have to stop. Or we’ll do something we regret in the morning.”

You hated yourself for saying it. For being the voice of reason when every inch of your body was begging to say something else. Something like: Don’t stop. Don’t take your hands off me. Please, just fuck me already. But instead, you were here. Lying. Dying. Sweating. Fantasizing about voluntarily checking yourself into a mental hospital as soon as you got home.

He didn’t answer right away, just tightened his grip, his lips hovering at your pulse point. He exhaled slowly, like he was trying to rein himself in too.

You weren’t sure what scared you more—how badly you wanted him... or how deeply he made you feel.

His hand moved over your chest, fingers squeezing your breasts just hard enough to pull a moan from your throat.

“There she is,” he whispered, lips brushing your ear. “My little birdy.”

Your heart fluttered wildly. You didn’t know how much more you could take. His hand slipped lower, sliding under your panties, and when his fingers circled your slick core, something in you snapped.

“Erik… please,” you whispered, trembling—ashamed and proud all at once.

“Please what, princess?” His voice was pure smug heat, low and dangerous. You couldn’t see his face, but you could feel the smirk radiating off of him.

“Please touch me already,” you begged, and that was all he needed.

He pushed his fingers inside you with a hunger that made you shudder. One hand claimed your breasts like they were made to fill his palm, the other working between your thighs with practiced, reverent rhythm.

“You look so fucking hot, Peach,” he growled against your neck, biting your collarbone. “You have no idea.”

Was this real? Or did you die of beer poisoning and go to horny heaven?

His fingers, his lips, the way he whispered your name between curses—it was all too much. You came hard, his name on your lips, his grip tightening around you like he couldn’t bear to let go.

And then… you said it.

“Fuck, Erik, I love you so much.”

He froze.

Little devil froze.

“What?” he asked, voice hollow with shock.

You sat up, horrified. Why did you say that? You could see it in his face—confusion, panic, something unnameable—and now your own brain was doing cartwheels through every possible scenario, none of them good.

“Oh, nothing—I just… I need to look for my vape,” you stammered, grabbing your jacket. “See you.”

And then you bolted out of the tent like the emotionally unstable Olympic sprinter you were.

Looking for your vape. Really? That was your excuse?

Mental checklist: ✓ Run ✓ Hide ✓ Never return Perfect. Executing plan Vape-and-Vanish immediately.

“Sweets! Wait up—!” Erik called after you, but you were already disappearing into the woods like a gremlin fueled by panic and regret.

He groaned, tossing on a hoodie and stumbling out after you.

“She left me in shock. With a boner. And possibly a black eye. God—I love her so much,” he muttered, winded and shirtless, lungs barely keeping up with his legs.

“Peach! Come on, talk to me!” he shouted into the darkness. He knew exactly where you’d go.

And there you were, by the lake, sitting on a rock and probably plotting your permanent relocation to a remote, vape-friendly monastery.

“Can you at least wear the damn AirTag I got you last Christmas?” he panted. “I can’t chase after you all my life. I have asthma.”

You turned around, snorting.

“You don’t have asthma. That’s just your excuse to hide your banana vape addiction, dork.”

He laughed—and it was the most beautiful sound you’d ever heard. You would never, ever get tired of it.

“Smartass. Get up,” he said, extending a hand.

And you did. What more could you possibly lose? Your dignity was already gone, right along with Bobby’s mysterious missing sock.

“Erik, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have blurted it out like that, I—” He cut you off with a kiss.

Soft. Familiar. Real.

Your heart tripped all over itself. You melted into him, your hands tangling in his hair, his mouth stealing the words you couldn’t figure out how to say.

You moaned into his kiss, the two of you breathing hard, your lips chasing each other like they’d waited too long.

He pulled back just enough to look at you.

“I love you, Peach. So much.”

He kissed you again, slow and full of everything he’d never said out loud.

But then — “Wait… Peach, you okay? You’re kinda burning u—oh shit.”

You barely heard him before your legs gave out. Luckily, he caught you, arms already around you.

“Fucker,” you muttered weakly. “You gave me your fever.”

“Guilty,” he said, sweeping you into his arms bridal-style. “Gave you my heart too, Peach. All yours.”

He pressed a kiss to your forehead as you tucked your face into his chest, finally giving in to sleep.

You were in Erik’s arms—sick, yes. But also in love. And finally, finally… his.

#erik campbell fanfiction #erik campbell final destination #erik campbell x reader #erik campbell #final destination bloodlines #final destination

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janeyseymour · 2 months ago

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Dumbass Kids

idk anymore. i present you with this- utter fluff.

Summary: It's funny the way that you and Melissa accidentally seem to adopt two dumbass kids- aka, Janine and Jacob.

WC: ~3.3k

Melissa Schemmenti never planned on the way her life turned out. If you had told her as a teenager that she would end up married right out of college, end up teaching at a poorly funded school in the city, have no children of her own and get divorced to what was supposed to be the love of her life, only to wind up dating and married to the real love of her life, a woman? Well, the fiery redhead would probably come up with quite a few names to call you in Italian before telling you in English that you were absolutely bat shit crazy. But here she is. She has you in her corner, alongside her as a third grade teacher. It’s… perfect.

The second grade teacher is naturally a closed off woman, but once you realize that she’s mostly tough in order to protect herself- that is her fight or flight instinct- you find that she is incredibly kind and compassionate for those she deems worthy enough to let in. You don’t begin to realize how special you are to her until she’s asking you to go out on a date with her.

“What?” you ask, having to do a double take.

“You and me,” the redhead smiles at you softly. “We work well together at work, but I think we might work well together outside of school too. So, what do you say? Go out with me?”

“I… I say, I think I’d like that.” You can’t quite keep the blush off your face. You had thought she was pretty for some time now, and you knew she was softer for you than most of your other coworkers, but… you didn’t think she reciprocated the feelings that you had for her.

Fast forward to years later that the two of you are married and happy as can be. There’s a nice core circle that you and your wife find yourself in, although it does make you chuckle when you realize that they may see her as more of a mother than a simple coworker.

Janine Teagues, for as odd as she can be and for as much as she annoys your wife with her can-do attitude, holds a special place in Melissa’s heart. And Jacob Hill, the pessimistic Social Studies teacher, somehow manages to wiggle his way into your wife’s tough heart.

Up until your wife sees the way they eat and then begrudgingly (with a nudge from you) invites the two over for a cooking lesson, it was hard for your wife to tolerate them. But when the evening is upon you all, you realize that maybe they’ve been trying to search for validation and care from the redhead when they can’t receive it from their own families.

The four of you are standing in the kitchen, you with a broad smile on your face as you tie your apron around you. Melissa just rolls her eyes- an action she’s always done.

“Do either of you want an apron?” you offer. “Lis won’t wear one, but we have a few-”

“I do wear one occasionally,” your wife huffs. “Just don’ need to to cook this.”

“What are we cooking?” Janine asks.

“Pasta,” you chuckle. “What else?”

“On second thought,” the redhead takes the apron out of your hands and takes it upon herself to wrap it around the younger woman. “We don’ need you ruining your shirt because you drop tomato sauce on it.” She turns to Jacob. “You too, Hill. Grab one.”

You don’t miss the way that Janine has this odd look on her face, but it’s clearly one of fondness.

When Melissa pulls out the shallot that Janine had brought over, you see the nearly murderous look in her eye. But when she sees the way that once she’s explained why it is so crucial to get an onion as opposed to a shallot- less about the actual ingredient and more about the integrity behind the cooking- Janine seems to understand. And she’s apologizing up and down. It’s… if you’re being honest, it’s actually quite sad to see the way she reacts. The shorter woman’s shoulders tense up, and you can tell that she is so genuine in her apology- fearing that she’s in more trouble than she actually is. It’s as if this reaction isn’t necessarily an uncommon thing for her body to go through- it’s more visceral than anything. And your wife takes notice. Her green eyes go from anger to a look of sympathy in an instant.

“Hey,” Melissa sighs softly, reaching a hand out to rest gently on Janine’s forearm. “It’s an honest mistake. It’s alright.”

As if Jacob understands the strange gravity of the situation, he hops off of the counter top as he undoes his own apron. “Ooh! Now I get to patronize a local vendor… B.R.B!”

With a glance and a telepathic, ‘I’ll go with him,’ you too slide yourself off of the surface you’re sitting on and go to grab your jacket.

You only catch the tail end of the talking head Jacob is giving the camera.

“We aren’t doing that,” you can’t help the laughter that bubbles through you.

“If you get a white onion, I swear t’God,” your wife yells after you.

You roll your eyes. “I know what to get, my love.”

When Janine starts to talk about her sister, and there are tears in her eyes, claiming it’s the garlic… Melissa feels for her. She misses her sister. “Yeah, garlic doesn’t do that. Do it like this.”

Your wife shows the younger teacher how to hold a knife the proper way, how to cut the proper way, tells her about the right knife to use for different things all in the time that it takes for you to convince Jacob he doesn’t need to ‘up-buy’ the onion.

If you’re being honest, you expect to come home to complete and utter chaos. But there isn’t that. Instead, there’s a quiet calm throughout the house. You can tell from the various aromas that the two had chopped up most of the ingredients before pausing to wait for the onion.

“Honey?” you call as you haul a few bags in. “I know that we only went to get onion, but I did notice that there were a few things that we were low on, so I just grabbed those too while I was trying to convince Jacob not to ‘up-buy’.”

They aren’t in the kitchen like you expect them to be. You drop the things on the counter before venturing a bit further into the house with the man. You find Melissa and Janine sitting on the couch quietly. Your wife has a protective arm wrapped around your colleague. She turns to you.

“Hey hun,” the redhead says softly. “We were just waiting for you.”

You tilt your head to silently ask if everything is okay, and when she nods and stands- extending a hand out to her grade level partner, you go along with it.

The four of you end up creating a very basic, but very lovely, meal together. Janine even shows off the new skills that she’d learned while the two of you were at the store. You and your wife send the two off with a few Tupperware containers filled with the meal and a smile. Janine leans in to hug you, to which you reciprocate with ease.

And then she reaches for Melissa. When you think your wife will decline, she doesn’t. Instead, she simply holds the woman with such a warmth that it makes your heart practically beat out of your chest.

“I’m always here for you, kid,” your wife whispers softly.

While the two of you are preparing for bed that night, you can’t help the curiosity inside of you.

“So, what happened while Jacob and I were at the store?” you ask as you slide into bed.

Melissa sighs softly. “That… that kid’s more broken than I thought. And I could tell she just needed some extra love tonight.”

“Just tonight?” you raise a brow. “You sure you ain’t gettin’ soft for her?”

Your wife huffs dramatically as she lowers herself into the bed. “I’ve been soft for her. She just knows it now… which may bite me in the ass, but… whatever.”

That’s the beginning of this odd little family the four of you start. And it only progresses. The two continue to come over for cooking lessons, searching for the praise that they’ve been looking for for so long but failed to receive in the past.

In fact, when Jacob breaks up with Zach, you two are the first people he ends up calling to tell after school.

“Come over,” you and your wife both immediately say into the phone.

“I- I wouldn’t want to impose.” That’s what the man says, although you can hear in his voice how desperately he wants to accept your offer.

“You can either wallow in self-pity by yourself, or you can wallow in self-pity with a good meal and glass of wine in hand,” Melissa rolls her eyes. “I would choose coming over if I were you.”

“I- I’ll be there in ten,” Jacob says softly before hanging up.

The redhead stands from her place on the couch and heads into the kitchen to pull out ingredients for dinner.

“Am I calling Janine?” you ask as you head for the wine cupboard.

You see and hear the low breath your wife lets out before she nods her head. “Yeah.”

“Hun,” you chuckle as you try to convince her for the fourth time that this ‘Lester’ is Jacob in disguise. “I’m telling you: I think it’s him. Based off of the emails I’ve seen and his texts, it’s very similar and would not be shocking if it was him.”

“Nobody would use a fake name.”

“You did,” you fire out with a laugh. “I didn’t know your real name was Melissa until our third date,” you remind her.

“Okay,” Melissa sighs. “I did, yes. But Jacob? He ain’t smart enough to do that.”

“He’s been hanging around an awful lot with us lately,” you remind your wife sweetly. “I wouldn’t be shocked. And besides, if we’re looking for a tenant, would it really be the worst thing in the world if it was him? We know him, we like him, we-”

“We tolerate him,” the redhead tries to correct, but when you give here a stern look, she backs down. “Okay. We like him.”

“We know he’s relatively good with his money and would pay his rent on time.”

So when it’s revealed at work that it is indeed Jacob trying to secure the rental, you smile inwardly to yourself. Melissa puts on a big show about how she can’t believe it’s actually him, but you know there was a small part of her hoping you were right.

As it turns out to be, Jacob moving in with the two of you isn’t much different than when he’s just shown up to cook with you and your wife. It’s honestly quite nice to have him around. He’s quick to learn what makes your wife tick in your home, and he’s all too eager to help out with chores and grocery shopping (he now knows when to buy red onions and white onions or shallots).

It’s endearing the way that he lingers in the kitchen after school to just catch up about your days, but he also is respectful of your boundaries. When he notices that things may be a bit tense between you and your wife, he makes himself scarce.

Even on days when the four of you haven’t arranged to do cooking lessons, Jacob is asking about the methods and different skills the two of you are using in the kitchen. Janine frowns when she realizes that she’s not also privy to the specialness of eating Melissa’s cooking every day or enduring the sometimes brutal impromptu cooking lessons.

“He’s paying me rent, Pipsqueak,” Melissa snorts the one day.

Although you do notice that the next day, she packs an extra portion of lunch and quietly passes it to the second grade teacher with a smile.

With Jacob living with you, the three of you learn a lot about each other. There are some things that you’d rather not know (or hear) when it comes to the quirky teacher. It goes the same way for him.

“Jacob Hill, you seriously took him to the roof?” Melissa is currently in the middle of grilling the man that lives with you.

Jacob shrugs.

“I thought those were the raccoons,” you groan.

“Y/N,” Jacob groans at you early in the morning. “You have to fully wake up before you grab the cereal… you keep stealing mine.”

“Shut it,” you grumble as you rub at your temples. You shift in your seat uncomfortably.

“So, the raccoons were pretty loud last night, huh?” the man remarks with a smirk on his face.

While your face heats up and you wake up immediately, your wife just shouts, “Jacob!”

“God, I didn’t realize how thin these walls are,” all three of you mumble under your breaths.

“Maybe we should take it up to the roof next time,” you mutter.

“We all saw how that worked out for Avi and me,” Jacob huffs. “You thought it was the raccoons, so clearly you could still hear us.”

“I don’t need our pervert neighbor catching on and trying to watch either,” Melissa sighs as she puts coffee on the table. You eagerly reach for yours.

“Your neighbor is a pervert?” the man asks nervously.

“Our neighbor,” your wife corrects with a heavy breath. She sips her coffee. “C’mon, you two. We need to start getting ready for work.”

When Janine decides to take on the full-time position at the district, it’s Barbara who is the first to congratulate the now former second grade teacher. But you don’t miss the way that your wife is the second one to leap up from her chair and hug the woman, claiming she doesn’t need to know her name anymore. Everyone there knows from the wobble in her voice that this declaration will hit Melissa much more than she is ever willing to admit. You’re quick to congratulate her too, with a smile on your face. You know how hard Janine has worked, and she deserves to know how proud of her you are.

That night, you, Melissa, Jacob, and Janine have a small celebratory dinner to highlight just how hard that woman has worked. It’s soft, it’s warm, it’s sweet- it’s domestic.

When the woman who works in the administrative office decides to announce at AvaFest that she’s planning on returning, the two of you are the first to give broad smiles and clap your hands on either one of her shoulders.

“Abbott hasn’t been the same without you,” you whisper to her warmly. You even dare to press a soft kiss to her temple.

“I don’ even wanna admit how much I’ve missed you, Lowercase,” the redhead mutters as she too kisses Janine’s hairline.

“I still see you two at least twice a week,” Janine reminds you both.

“Not the same,” Melissa whispers. “I’m so glad to have my pain in the ass back.”

Janine’s end of the year party is… it’s going to be interesting for sure. Many of your coworkers have tried to convince the short woman to have the party and Barbara’s instead due to space, but Janine had been adamant. So you end up showing up to the party an hour early in order for your girlfriend and Barb to help clean up before hand.

“Luck? I don’t know her,” you hear Janine tell the camera. You have to stifle your laughter as you hear her impersonate Melissa and the kindergarten teacher.

“You planned this?” you ask once she’s finished.

Janine just nods proudly.

“And what do you have planned for me?”

“Honestly? Nothing. I know you just like to go with the flow, so… I’ve prepared for you to just sort of wander. So long as you take Melissa home at the end of the night, everything should go according to plan.”

Her party is, in the strangest of ways, an absolute hit.

Summer goes by, and the two of you know that Janine is hiding something from you- or rather someone.

“Do you really think she doesn’t think we know?” you ask your wife as you sit outside together.

“If she doesn’t think we know, she’s a dumbass,” Melissa quips as she cracks open another beer. “Jacob knows too. He’s terrible at covering for her.”

“He really is,” you laugh. “His last excuse for her not being at cooking lessons was that she was ‘washing her cat’.”

Green eyes turn to you with a fondness. “Those two really are like a weird brother and sister. Sharing secrets and covering for each other.”

“You mean like when Janine told us that she’s pretty sure the raccoon rabies outbreak was beginning, and it was just Jacob and Avi on the roof again?” you smirk. “Two dumbass children.”

“And somehow, they’re our two dumbass children,” your wife sighs with fake exasperation.

“Our?” you lift a brow.

“We’re married. If I choose to adopt two dumbass kids, you automatically get them too.”

“You understand that they’re not actually your children, don’t you?”

“Yes, but apparently I’m parent-shaped, so I don’t think it matters all that much,” the redhead tells you. After a breath, she continues, “You know, I kind of figured Jake would somehow become ours, but I swore Janine was going to be Barbara’s issue.”

“She somehow is all of our issue,” you reply back with a gentle nudge.

Melissa takes a sip of her drink. “And we still love her.”

“That we do.”

When school starts back up for the year and development days are upon you, you see the way that Janine and Gregory dance around each other. You also see the way that Jacob is constantly trying to cover for them. It’s quite funny, you have to admit. Their lies are just getting worse and worse, and there can’t be any possible way Janine thinks she’s being secretive about this relationship. But, as Janine does, she does the impossible and truly does believe she and her boyfriend are doing a great job of hiding it.

During the yearly goals meeting, the truth comes out. Melissa just high fives you and Barbara at the news.

Because you, and with some coercion of your wife, know not to bring it up at work though, you wait to interrogate her when she comes over for another cooking lesson.

“So, how long did you really think you could keep that up, Pipsqueak?” your wife asks.

The second grade teacher shrugs. “I kept it up over the summer.”

“You absolutely did not,” you laugh as you hand over an onion.

“What?” You’ve never seen eyebrows rise up so quickly and so high.

Melissa just rolls her eyes. “It’s a mother’s intuition. We both knew, you dumbass.”

Janine turns to Jacob. “Jacob, you told!”

“I did not!”

“Then how did they-”

“I swear, you two fight more and more like siblings everyday,” you chuckle. “Nobody had to tell us. We just knew.”

“And now that you ‘told’ us,” Melissa starts. “No, you and Gregory may not use my roof to make out.”

Janine glances to the camera. “What if…” she drawls out. “I said we already did?”

“Janine!” both you and your wife scold.

The woman throws her hands up in surrender. “Sorry Moms!”

TAGS: @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @sweetcheeksschemmenti @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @a-queen-and-her-throne @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld @cosmichymns @sasheemo @m1lflov3rrr @ricejucie @temilyrights @emilynissangtr @squinnchy @emeraldoceansstuff @shinyfaerielights @blkmxrvel @marvelwomenrule @casualfoxwitch @babytakeittothehead @schemmentits @eliscannotdance

#abbott elementary #abbott elementary fanfiction #abbott elementary fanfic #lisa ann walter #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti #melissa schemmenti fanfic #melissa schemmenti fanfiction #janine teagues #jacob hill

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psychocitywrites · 2 months ago

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Hard Truths

Summary:

Rafe Cameron has everything a man would want. Now he’s looking to settle down. He thinks he’s found the one that checks all the boxes, except she’s not you.

Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5

At twenty-nine years old, Rafe Cameron was the most eligible bachelor in the business world. He was used to women throwing themselves at him, using them, ghosting them, then moving onto the next. And now as he was nearing his thirties, his father was begging him to finally settle down with a respectable woman and start a family.

“Sarah’s married to that pogue boy. Now when are gonna grow up and do something with your life?” Ward said the last time they had talked. Rafe nearly broke his phone after that conversation.

He knew he didn’t have anything left to prove to his father, but hearing Ward compare him to his little sister once again hurt his pride, and he wasn’t going to let that slide. Nope.

He had a plan. He was going to find someone who fit into his world. Someone who would turn heads whenever they walked into a room. Someone who commanded respect and attention. The perfect woman.

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

The event was in full swing as Rafe leaned against the balcony, staring down at the people who were invited to the gala. Only the richest, most successful people were invited. If he was looking for his match, she’d be here for sure.

“Dude, what about Charlotte Goldberg? Her parents own like a dozen diamond mines, plus she’s hot.” Topper pointed at pretty girl wearing a sparkly black dress. He’d been trying all night to get Rafe to at least agree with one suggestion.

“Nah man, I’d rather not let my name be associated with blood diamonds” said Rafe unimpressed, “and Kelce went out with her sister. Said their family is starting a reality TV show. I don’t want no one to know my personal shit like that.”

Kelce nodded. “I broke up with her last year. At least they shot on my good side.”

Topper groaned. “What about her? I heard she’s a humanitarian.” He gestured to a woman with short black hair and wearing a long white dress.

“She just divorced her third husband. I’m not lookin’ to be number four.”

Kelce snickered at Rafe’s response. Topper was going to make another suggestion before his date Ruthie called him. “Topper! Where’s my champagne?! You’ve been gone for thirty minutes already!”

That dumbass came with Ruthie? He thought to himself as he saw the girl link her arm with Topper to bring him towards another group of people and leaving him and Kelce alone.

Not wanting to waste any more time, Rafe lifted himself from the balcony and started to walk towards the crowd. If he wanted to find someone who was wife material, it would be better if he looked for himself than to listen to Topper.

Kelce followed behind him. “Dude, don’t you think you’re just being a lil’ hard on yourself? Girls throw themselves at your feet. What more could you want?”

Rafe inwardly groaned. As he began to formulate his excuse to leave his friend, he heard the crowd quiet down.

He turned around and saw a young blond woman wearing a stunning gold evening gown walk through the entrance. Her flowy blonde hair shined whenever she turned toward the paparazzi and when she smiled, her teeth were as white as pearls Her curves made some women burn with jealousy as they saw their partners ogle at her figure. Her hips swayed as she walked through the crowd. She knew how to make an entrance alright.

“Who is she?” Rafe asked.

“You don’t know who that is!? That’s Heather Hayworth! Her family owns Hayworth Hotels and like a bunch of other businesses around the world.” Kelce said incredulously.

"Is she single?"

"For now. Rumor has it she's trying to find a partner her father approves of so she can take over when he retires next year. Allegedly. She's kinda like you in a way."

All the right things were being said to Rafe as he zeroed in on the blonde bombshell.

Was she beautiful? Check.

Was her family rich? Check.

Was she part of the land development/business world? Check.

If Rafe had paid attention more closely to who walked in, he would have also noticed you.

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron imagine #rafe x reader #obx fanfiction #rafe cameron x you #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks x reader #hard truths #psychocity fics

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dual1pa · 1 month ago

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at the same time

A/N: hi i'm back in my fanfiction writing era

johnny storms x reader

Warnings: language, reader is pregnant, fluff, PDA, sexy talk - but it's tame, follows the overall F4 story, but it also doesn't? also, this isn't proofread. enjoyyyy

"We should definitely tell them tonight," Johnny said, holding you close and rubbing your back in the comfort of your own quarters inside the Fantastic Four HQ.

You've just found out you're pregnant, and it wasn't planned, but you're not upset about it. Mostly thrilled. You and Johnny talked about starting a family for a while, but wanted to wait until the chaos of him being a superhero calmed down. You were excited to watch your child grow up with great influences surrounding them, watching them succeed in school, go to prom with their crush, graduate from college, and get married. You were getting ahead of yourself, but it just excited you too much. And you could tell Johnny was thrilled, probably internally shitting his pants, but just as excited.

"You're right. Do you want to tell them or should I?"

"Hey, you're growing a person inside you right now. I think you should do the honors," he chuckled, bringing your face to look at his and pecking a quick kiss to your lips.

"Yeah, but it's our person," you said.

"You're announcing it to the crew," he kissed you once again before speaking, "Whether you like it or not." He gave you one last kiss before walking towards the couch and plopping down to watch some TV.

You followed suit and lay directly on top of him, straddling his lips to not put too much pressure on your growing tummy, and rested your head on his chest, just enough to snuggle your face into his neck.

Johnny's hands instantly found your sides and slightly pushed your shirt up to feel your warm skin.

"You know what they say about pregnant women?" you ask, whispering into his ear.

"What's that?" his hands inched down to rest on your bum.

"They're horny all the time," you say, lightly biting down on his ear, then dragging your hands down his chest where your ass is on top of his groin.

"Aw honey, you're killing me," he leaned up to attach his lips to yours. However, you were rudely interrupted by a large smash and a "Fuck!"

"We should go check on him," you said, referencing Thing.

"Such a dumbass and a cock block," he shook his head, helping you to your feet, taking your hand and leading you to the main portion of HQ.

"What the hell happened in here?" Johnny shouted before entering the room.

"Oh, sorry," Thing said, "I just dropped a glass bowl. Everything is fine now."

Johnny raced over to see the damage, which was already cleaned up, "Well, since I'm here. I'm starving," he said, grabbing a bowl and some Lucky Charms.

You weren't so hungry as the nausea had taken over. You simply just asked Johnny to grab you some iced water, which is what he grabbed first before serving himself. What a gentleman.

He placed the large bowl of cereal down in the empty chair next to yours and scooted you closer to him, where you tucked your feet into the middle of his legs.

You watched as he and Thing talked about... whatever they talk about... while you were too deep in your own thoughts. Moments later, Sue and Reed walked into the room, looking pretty serious about something.

"Oh, great, you're both here! We have something to tell you all," Johnny spoke up before Reed could get a word out.

"Wait, Johnny. We have something important to tell you as well, honey, would you like to do the honors?" Reed nudged Sue, who looked pretty nervous and, to be frank, a little pale.

She looked at the three of you and said, "Things are about to get a little crazy around here, well, in a few months, actually, so be prepared for a shift. I'm pregnant."

"What?" Johnny exclaimed, then looked over at you. He got up so fast and went over to hug his sister and brother-in-law

"We're about to be one big family, huh?" Thing said.

"Yeah, because it's about to get a bit bigger," Johnny said, bringing you over to join the crew.

"Because our hearts are just so overjoyed for you guys!" you exclaim, which was something Johnny was not expecting to hear.

Before he could speak, you hugged Sue super tight and talked to her about how she found out, how far along she was, etc.

Later on, Johnny pulled you aside privately, "Why didn't you say anything? I thought we were gonna tell them tonight?"

"I was, until Sue said that she was pregnant, and I didn't want to take away from her special moment. It wouldn't have been right. I felt like it would have been if you had proposed to me that Reed and Sue's wedding, it would've been totally inappropriate. I'm going to talk to Sue later on and tell her privately to make sure she's okay with me also telling my news," you explained.

"Always so considerate of others," Johnny said, placing a strand of hair behind your ear before quickly kissing your lips.

You walked over to Sue, "Hey, could I talk to you for a minute?"

"Sure, hon!" she said, "What's Up?"

"First of all, so excited for you and I didn't want to take away your shine and special moment, but we also found out that I'm pregnant as well." you whisper.

"SHUT UP!" she screamed, grabbing the attention of the others, "It's nothing!!" she said.

"Wait, we're gonna be pregnant together?? You should have announced it too!"

"I know, but I didn't want to take your shine away!" you exclaimed.

"Oh honey, I wouldn't have thought that at all! Come on, let's go tell the others."

"Guys! It seems as if these two have an announcement of their own as well," Sue said, giving Johnny a look to stand next to you.

He quickly obliged, bringing you in for a hug, "So, I didn't want to take away the attention from Sue from her huge announcement, but," you looked up at Johnny, "We are also expecting a baby as well."

The team erupts in cheers, and you couldn't be happier.

#the fantastic four #the fantastic 4 #the fantastic four: first steps #joseph quinn #joseph quinn characters #johnny storm #johnny storm x reader #johnny storm fluff

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jazzthatonewriterchick · 2 months ago

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With Good Weather Brings Good Breedings 🌸🐰 (18+ Fic)

Pairing: Poly!KiriBaku x Black!Bunny Girl!Reader

Synopsis: In which your spring cycle comes a little earlier than usual and you’re too afraid of your boyfriends–whom you’ve been dating for five months–thinking you’re weird instead of telling them about your cycle during mating season. However, during a picnic thrown especially for you, your two favorite pros are more aware than you realize and are more than happy to help you with your little problem.

Story Warnings: Smutty Smut; 18+ (MINORS STAY TF AWAY); Poly Romance, AgedUp!BakuKiri (they’re in their late 20s); Mating Cycle; Reader is in Heat; Public Sex/Exhibitionism; Mild Foot Fetish (Toe Sucking); Clit Stimulation; Overstimulation; Deepthroat/Facefuck; Biting; Hair/Ear Pulling; Tail Stroking; Spanking; Mild Dacryphilia; Degradation/Praise; Name Calling; Pet Names; Multiple Positions (Doggystyle, Full Nelson, Mating Press); Non-Protected PIV Sex; Breeding Kink; Squirting; Creampies; Cum Play; Facials; Aftercare

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Writer’s Note: This is a repost because my original link wasn't working. Smh. Enjoy! -Jazz

Chapters: One, Two, Three, Four, Five

Read on AO3 here!

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

CHAPTER TWO: Fever

The next day is Friday, which means you don’t have to go to work until noon.

Which gives you just enough time to work out what to say to your boyfriends when you see them at work.

Since yesterday when Mina and Jirou gave you some good advice that you may or may not take, you’ve been suffering in silence with your anxiety over what to do next.

You lie in your bed now in your bunny PJs, staring up at the ceiling of your bedroom. You’ve been up since 7 AM contemplating whether to call Kiri and Bakugou, ask them to lunch, or visit tonight to talk things over. No amount of yoga or meditation you did earlier soothed you either. You were buzzing with anticipation and anxiety, making your stomach turn before you even had breakfast.

You rolled over to stare at your phone on the charger next to your bed. You should probably call. ‘But what if they’re sleep?’ you wonder. Still, you could shoot them a text. But how should you start it? How would you even start the conversation once you’re face to face with them?

You know logically, it’s not that hard, but it’s easier said than done. You groan, throwing an arm over your eyes. Almost as if punishing you for your acting so bizarre and forcing you to face your shit, your phone rings.

You look, finding Kiri’s name flashing across your screen. Your heart begins to pound against your chest and your stomach flips. With a deep breath, you reach for your phone and answer the call. “Hello?” you answer, making your voice sound groggy and soft as if you just woke up and you weren’t awake for hours dwelling over your life’s decisions.

“Good morning, sunshine.” Kiri’s deep, raspy voice fills your ear, making warmth curl into your core. “How’s it goin’ this morning? We missed you yesterday.”

“Good morning,” you reply and fake a yawn.

“Shit, were you sleep?” he asks, sounding apologetic. “I thought you’d be up by now since it’s 10 AM.” “She doesn’t go into work till noon, dumbass!” Bakugou growls in the background. “I told your ass to wait till then!”

“Bakugou says hi,” Kiri sighs as you giggle to yourself. “As you can see, we’re together and driving to work now. Just wanted to give you a call and see how your day went yesterday since we didn’t get a chance to talk last night.”

You remember coming home early from work yesterday before sunset and falling asleep before ten while Bakugou and Kiri were out patrolling for the night till about midnight. You don’t know how they stay so upbeat and resilient despite the long hours of being on the streets, not to mention fighting crime and getting bruised, beaten, and banged up. These are just two of the reasons why you adore them so much.

“It was fine,” you say on your back, still looking up at the ceiling. “I met up with Mina and Jirou; they said hi.” You roll over onto your stomach, giving your tail time to stretch. “I missed y’all though. The office was a little less bright without you seein’ you two waltz in.”

“Well, lucky for you, baby, we’ll be there all day today,” Kiri chuckles, the pet name making you stupidly smile into the phone.

“So what’s up with today?” Bakugou asks, getting right to the point. “You still got your break at two today, right?”

“Yep,” you reply. “I’m at work from 12 to 6 today since I come in at noon. How come?”

“Just asking,” Kiri replies. You can hear the smile in his voice. “Wanna make sure you eat in between work, y’know? You’re always hustling in there. I can see why your boss likes you.”

“A little too much, if you ask me,” Bakugou grumbles, making you roll your eyes. He’s always had this theory that your boss is trying to get a piece of you. “It’s bad enough you got that cute lil’ cotton tail.”

Hearing him talk about your tail like that–something you’re a bit insecure about anyway–does something to you. “Mmm, definitely,” Kiri purrs, sounding positively hungry for you. “Not to mention those damn skirts and work pants you wear. I’d wish you let those ears of yours free too.”

You find yourself pushing your thighs together as warmth curls into your core at their sweet words. These are just a few examples of how they sweet-talk you. Most of it is done when you’re all intertwined with one another on your couches or beds, lips moving against skin, and hands all over each other.

Bakugou’s fingers would be caressing your jaw as he whispered to you in his graveled, baritone voice, “Why are you so fuckin’ cute? I just wanna eat you up.”

And Kiri, with his hands caressing your hips and fingers coaxing you out of your top, would chuckle in your ear, “He means in, mama. Not that he’d get any farther than me. My tongue would be between your thighs before he could blink.”

You desperately want that now as your mind wanders to unholy places. “You know I can’t do that, ‘Suki,” you tell the grumpy blonde over the phone. “I only put my ears back to avoid the looks and unwanted tugs from snot-nosed kids and pervs on the street. It’s bad enough I have to ruin my clothes to let my tail breathe.”

“So If I say I wanna tug at your ears with your consent, does that make me a perv too?” Kiri asks curiously. His question makes you laugh. “You sayin’ that as if I wouldn’t let you,” you boldly reply, your fingers toying with the collar of your shirt.

“Oh, would you now?” Kiri chuckles suggestively as Bakugou groans in the background, the sound making your clit jump excitedly. “Keep talkin’ like that, baby girl, and we’ll come right over there.”

“Promise,” Bakugou growls, pure conviction in his voice.

“I…” The words die in your throat suddenly, but not that you would have a good response to that anyway. You already created a trap for yourself that exposed your deviant, horny side to your boyfriends.

And just like that, something happens to you in that moment. A switch flips and you find your body reacting immediately. Your skin becomes hot and clammy, your heartbeat accelerates, and your face flushes as if you’re growing a fever. That warm feeling in your core that grew at the sound of your boyfriends’ voices grows, as well as the wetness that had begun to coat your pussy walls. You’re suddenly soaked, ruining your panties despite no stimulation.

‘What the fuck?’ you think.

“Baby?” Kiri questions, and you realize you’ve been silent. “You still there?”

The pet name he uses only seems to make things worse. You cover your mouth to hide a whimper of need, swallowing it down. “U-Uh, yeah,” you stutter out as you abruptly sit up. “I just realized I need to clean my apartment before work. I-I have to go.”

“Well, okay,” Kiri replies, obviously noticing your sudden change in demeanor. “Just don’t work yourself too hard.” A grin splits across his face as he teasingly purrs into your ear, “That’s our job.”

Your body reacts immediately, even to Bakugou’s sexy ass laugh in the background. Especially your pussy. It’s as if she has a mind of her own as she clenches around nothing and gushes in your panties.

Not to mention your ears and tail. They twitch and are sensitive to the touch, even as you lightly brush the tip of your ear. Sparks of pleasure shoot into your core and you bite back a soft moan.

“Y-Yeah, okay!” you quickly reply. “I’ll see you guys at work. Be safe, bye!” The goodbye is practically word vomit, but enough to get you out of that call. Quickly, you hang up, toss your phone aside, and move to your mirror to check yourself out.

The woman staring back at you is not at all you. She looks feverish, her forehead coated in a light sheen of sweat and her face flushed. The fluffy rabbit ears atop her head are standing at attention, the fur standing on end as if stimulated beforehand. Her chest rises and falls rapidly, her breasts jiggling slightly as she attempts to catch her breath.

“No,” you whisper to your reflection, your eyes wide with panic. “No, no, no!”

You immediately race to your calendar and trace the dates to March 20th. Next week on Tuesday. The first day of spring. Also the day you’re supposed to begin your spring cycle.

However, with the symptoms you’re showing now, you know damn well that isn’t the case. You’re on your spring cycle early.

“Fuck!” you shout, your hands going to your hair. How is this happening? You thought you had more time to prepare yourself. How is it here this early?

Your pussy pulses again and you buckle, dropping to your knees with a yelp. Your hands immediately go to cup the space between your thighs which is completely damp, your PJ shorts soaked through the fabric.

You roll onto your back with a whimper and buck your hips in the air, your body moving on its own. Your pussy throbs and aches, desperate for something to cure you of your fever. “Okay, okay!” you groan at your body’s complaints.

You have about two hours until you’re due for work, so you hurry to pick yourself up off the floor and dig into your bedside dresser into your goodies drawer. Some extra condoms for hookups, a rose, and your trusty vibrator sit in there, beckoning you forward.

You pick up your vibe which you specifically got for the different settings, speeds, and the anal plug attached to it. Quickly, you lie back against the plush pillows on your bed and turn your vibe onto the second setting.

Slow enough to start but fast enough to build up tempo. You pull down your shorts and panties immediately, hissing softly as the cool air hits your sobbing wet pussy. There’s no way you can go to work like this. So you’ll have to solve this problem yourself.

‘Your boys would help you solve this problem,’ you think to yourself, that deviant, needy, desperate side of you making an appearance. ‘They’d come right over if you asked and help you out. They’d fuck you from dusk till dawn.’

A whimper escapes your lips as you press the vibe to your aching clit. As soon as the vibrations hit the bundle of nerves there, your toes curl and your mouth opens into a silent O. Your eyes flutter closed as you drift off into a land of fantasy, your mind going blank except for the visions of your boyfriends behind your mind’s eye.

You can see them now: them entering your bedroom door to find you with your vibe between your legs, a whimpering, needy mess. They’d smirk deviously down at you, lust in their vermillion eyes.

They wouldn’t have to ask if you want them; they’d know from the pleading gaze you’d give them. You’d watch as they strip themselves of every article of clothing they’d have on until they’re forgotten on your bedroom floor.

Your eyes would trace every ripple of muscle, every scar, and imperfection that just makes them sexier. They’d let you touch their pecs and abs, your fingers trailing over soft, heated skin and their biceps, squeezing and appreciating their impressive builds.

And then your eyes would go to their cocks: hard, thick, and veiny, standing at attention and dripping in precum. Just for you. “Well?” Bakugou would growl at you. “Don’t just look at ‘em, you pretty dumbass. Do somethin’ with ‘em.”

“We took ‘em out for you, gorgeous,” Kiri would coo down at you, standing on his knees on your mattress. “Touch them. Taste them. Let us know how much you want them.” They’d both push their hips out toward you, pushing their cocks in your face.

You’d be ravenous as you’d wrap your hands around their shafts and slowly begin to stroke your hands up and down, enjoying the soft moans and grunts that leave their luscious lips at the feeling. Your pussy would gush and throb knowing you’re making them feel that good.

Then your mouth would be on them, one at a time, sucking each of them off. You’d switch between their cocks, stroking one while sucking the other, your tongue lapping at their heads. As your boys toss their heads back and become louder with their moans, they’d touch your little cotton tail and ears, stroking and gently tugging at them to your liking. You’d whimper and moan around one of their cocks in your throat, doing your best to keep focus.

“Such a naughty girl,” Kiri would breathlessly laugh as he toyed with your ears. “Such a good little bunny.” He’d say the same thing between your thighs, his hands holding your legs apart with impressive strength.

Or maybe Bakugou would do that for him. He’d be sitting behind you while you’d lean against his broad chest, his big hands holding your legs open by your ankles while Kiri lapped at your pussy, sucking gently on your clit.

Your eyes would flutter closed at the sheer pleasure, your mind going blank. “Uh-uh, mama,” Kiri would coo into your pussy. “Eyes on me.” His ruby gaze would stare you down from between your twitching thighs.

“No,” Bakugou would growl, turning your face to face him by your chin. “Keep your eyes on me, baby. Just on me.” His fingers would tweak and pinch your hard nipples, making your toes curl and your voice come out in broken moans and syllables of their names.

Then they’d switch: Bakugou would then be eating your pussy while Kiri toyed with your nipples and ears, sending your body into overdrive as you writhed and moaned, begging them for release.

The same teasing would ensue when they finally fucked you. They’d have you in every single position known to man: doggy style; missionary; cowgirl; reverse cowgirl; spitroast. The spitroast would be the one that sent you over the edge, too aroused by having Kiri’s thick dick in your mouth and Bakugou’s long, curved cock in your pussy, pounding into you again and again.

They’d fuck you silly; dumb; stupid. They’d make it so the only thing you could think about was them and the way they slang dick. They’d coo sweet nothings and degradation laced with saccharine to you as their dicks pulsed inside of you.

“Fuck, baby, you feel so good!” Kiri would shout, his voice bouncing off your bedroom walls. “You’re gonna make me cum so hard for you!”

“Gonna fuckin’ breed you,” Bakugou would growl into your ear, his cock driving into you again and again. “Gonna cum so deep in you, you’ll be feelin’ me for weeks. Ain’t that what you want, slut, hm? You want daddy to cum up all inside you?”

“Yes,” you whimper, the vibe now on its fastest setting, the vibrations against your clit quickly sending you over the edge. “Yes, yes, please!”

“Cum with us, baby girl,” Kiri would moan as he gripped your hair and palmed your ass as Bakugou pounded your pussy so fast, it jiggled. “Fuckin’ cum all over Katsuki’s dick. Be a good little girl for us.”

You’d be helpless to resist his request and you’d cum all over yourself, the bed, and Katsuki’s amazing dick deep inside your cunt. That would trigger their own orgasms. They’d cum in your mouth and pussy, coating your tongue and pussy walls in their cum. The lewd sounds falling from their lips would trigger another mini-gasm out of you, making you shiver and shake as you do now.

You cum with a loud moan as you burst all over your vibrator, your cum dripping down your thighs and onto the sheets below your body. Your hips buck and your back arches, your mouth fallen in an O. You envision your boyfriends’ eyes, hot and filled with lust as they stare at you.

‘You’re ours,’ their eyes say. ‘And we’re yours.’

Finally, your orgasm fades and the aftershocks stop, but it did nothing to satisfy or satiate you. Though you know you’ll be good for another fifteen minutes, the need will just come back again until you’re a throbbing, needy, hot mess in need of some relief. How you’re gonna survive today at work or talk to your boyfriends without jumping them you have no idea.

You groan in frustration as you throw an arm over your eyes, panting heavily.

Fuck this shit.

#kiribaku x black reader #kiribaku x reader #kiri the shark boi #suki baby #black coded reader #black fanfic writer #bunny girl #my fic shit #my works #poly kiribaku

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