#ive got at least thirty more of these. by the way

[idkdudethisisntpermanent]

Over the Limit - pt.ii

jenna ortega x female reader

part i | part ii | part iii | part iv

summary: While performing your latest heist, you unexpectedly cross paths with Jenna again.

word count: 4.6k

————

You seriously considered getting a job at the warehouse. Ever since the race three weeks ago, your confusion had only deepened. For starters, those brown eyes still haunted you, lingering in your thoughts more than you'd like to admit. And then there was Anton—if you thought he was relentless before, now he was downright impossible. Constant messages about everything going on at the race club, endless invites to group meetups, even asking for your measurements so he could get you a custom jacket. He was acting like you were already one of them.

You finally do something you should've done a long time ago, and put his messages on mute as you make your way to Summer Valley. One of your contacts tipped you off about a luxury car ripe for the taking, with security that could easily be bypassed and minimal risk of trouble. It was too good of an opportunity to pass up.

Glancing down at your watch, you take notice of the time: 3:24a.m. Everyone in this neighbourhood should be asleep by now.

"Twenty-four, twenty-six, twenty-eight..." you mutter under your breath, eyes scanning the street for the address with the Aston Martin. As you take in the houses, you can't help but feel a sense of awe. Each one is a mansion, towering at least three stories high—your own place barely scrapes one. The bricks alone on these estates probably cost more than your entire home. For a moment, you let yourself imagine what it'd be like to own something like this one day, a life so far from what you're used to. You can't help but wonder if your mystery girl lived in a place like this, hidden behind grand gates and perfect lawns.

"—ah! Thirty Oakmont Boulevard."

You look up at the house, tugging the hood on your head down. This house put all the others to shame, just who owned this house? You quickly shut down your curiosity, you were about to steal the owner's car. Curiosity only means guilt that will eat you up later.

You glance up at the cameras, fully aware you've already taken care of them. The only thing standing between you and that car is the garage door—and you just happen to have the code. With measured steps, you walk up the driveway, eyes locked on the garage door opener mounted to the brick wall just a few feet away. Almost too easy.

"Greaser?"

Shit—wait...Greaser?

You turn around fast and you see her. Walking down the side walk towards you with a confused look. "What are you doing here?" she asks, her voice a mix of surprise and curiosity.

You scramble for an excuse, your mind racing. "Uh, just... taking a walk," you manage to stammer, trying to sound casual while your heart pounds, not knowing if it was because you got caught or because of the girl standing before you. You glance nervously toward the garage door, knowing you shouldn't be lingering here.

"Right," she says, crossing her arms. "You just happen to be out here in the middle of nowhere, staring at houses?" She takes a step closer, a teasing smile playing on her lips. "You looking to steal a car or something?"

Your cheeks heat up, and you can't help but chuckle nervously. "Actually, I'm just... uh, admiring the architecture." You try to sound nonchalant, but the look in her eyes tells you she sees right through you.

She narrows her gaze playfully. "Architecture, huh? I'm sure that's what everyone does at three in the morning when it's pitch dark." Her eyes squint, dripping with sarcasm, and you can't help but admire her wit.

"Let me help!" she suddenly says, walking past you to the garage opener. "Tell me the code," she turns around looking at you expectantly.

Just who is this girl? You consider all the things you can say to get her to leave, but you find yourself saying something else, "0926."

She turns back around, and you finally take a look at her. She's wearing a simple, cute white dress that flows just above her knees, its fabric light and airy, with delicate lace trim along the sleeves and hem. A stark difference to the red viper jacket. This softer look reveals another side of her—one that feels almost disarming and invites you to know more.  You were surprised that she seemed happy to see you.  With the way you just left her in the alleyway at the race, you expected her to grimace at the sight of you.

Suddenly you hear the garage door open, and you're met with the beauty of the Aston Martin, its sleek curves glinting under the soft glow of the automatic garage lights. The car looks almost regal, standing there like a prize waiting to be claimed. Your heart races at the sight, but the girl's presence beside you adds an unexpected layer of excitement.

She glances at the car, then back at you, a playful grin spreading across her face. "Well, I suppose you didn't just come here to admire the architecture after all." Her eyes sparkle with mischief, and you can't help but feel the thrill of the moment pulse between you.

"Are you really going to steal it?" she asks with genuine curiosity. The question hangs in the air, and you decide to show her rather than answer.

You walk into the garage and approach the car, every instinct telling you to be cautious. You've done this before but this is the first time you had an audience, making you nervous. Taking a deep breath, you kneel beside the driver's side door, your fingers dancing over the sleek frame as you check for any security features.

After a moment, you spot the lock mechanism and pull out your slim jim—a 24 inch long thin metal tool.

"What the fuck, you just had that in your pants?"

You laugh at her question, and with precision you carefully slide it into the gap between the door and the frame, wiggling it just right until you hear a satisfying click.

You fought the urge to turn back and see if she was impressed with your abilities. Opening the car door, you slide inside, the plush leather seat enveloping you like a warm embrace.

Like it's muscle memory, you fumble with the ignition as you reach for the steering column. With a bit of twisting and pulling, you manage to bypass the ignition system. The engine starts, a deep growl that sends a thrill down your spine.  The excitement gets to you and you start fiddling with all the foreign buttons.

You accidentally hit something, and suddenly the entire car unlocks with a soft click.  Without missing a beat, the passenger door swings open, and before you can even react, the gorgeous Viper slides into the seat beside you.

"Uhm—absolutely not. You can't come," you blurt out, shaking your head immediately.

She turns to you with a slight frown, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.  "What? Why not?"

Why not? Is this girl serious?  You two are far from being friends—hell, you're from completely different sides of the track.  You're not about to start committing crimes with a Viper riding shotgun.  Getting buddy-buddy with someone like her? Yeah, that's not happening.

"Are you insane?  We talked for maybe ten minutes three weeks ago, and now you want to be my accomplice?" you snap, frustration bubbling over.  If it weren't for her, you'd already be on the highway by now.

Her demeanor shifts instantly, and you see an attitude rise to the surface that you hadn't seen before.  Her eyes narrow, and her voice takes on a sharp edge.  "I don't want to be your anything," she snaps, her tone dripping with sass.  "But you better get this car moving, Greaser." Her words cut through the tension like a challenge, and for a split second, you see just how serious she is.

You grit your teeth, gripping the steering wheel tightly.  This wasn't part of the plan—none of it was—but you're losing time, and every second she's sitting there, you're closer to getting caught.  You weigh your options, but her fiery gaze tells you she's not getting out without a fight.

"Fine," you mutter under your breath, throwing the car into gear.  You pull out of the driveway, you feel the adrenaline starting to kick in.  You shoot her a quick glare as you hit the gas, tires squealing as you tear down the street.  Your mind is racing just as fast as the car, trying to figure out who this girl really is and what she wants. This whole thing just got a lot more complicated.

Twenty minutes pass in tense silence, the kind that feels heavier with every kilometre. It's then you realize—you're heading straight for the Sinner's garage. And there's no way you can take her there.

"Hey," you murmur, quieter than intended, breaking the awkward stillness between you.

From the corner of your eye, you see her glance over at you. "I can't take you to the Sinner's garage. Tell me where I can drop you off," you say, keeping your voice as even as possible, hoping to avoid another argument.

"I'm not getting out."

Oh. My. God. Any calm you had vanishes in an instant, replaced with a fresh wave of frustration. "Why are you even here? Do you want the car for yourself?"

She raises a brow, clearly unimpressed. "Did you forget I'm from Summer Valley? We Vipers can actually afford our cars—we don't have to steal them."

That struck a nerve. "Then why are you torturing me like this?"

Instead of answering, she shoots back a question of her own. "Why did you freak out on me at the race?" You stay quiet, but she presses on. "I thought we had something going on," she says, her voice softening slightly. "And then you just ditched me."

Her eyes flicker with something like hurt, but you refuse to get drawn in.

"There was nothing going on between us," you lie smoothly.

"Oh bullshit!" she scoffs. "What changed your mind?"

"It's a long story," you respond, making it sound boring.

"We've got time," she retorts.

"Look I'm not telling a stranger my life story."

"I'm not giving you a choice."

"What?" you say confused.

"0927," she says randomly.

You take your attention off the road for a second and glance at her. You raise a brow, urging her to explain herself.

"The code for the garage wasn't 0926—you had the last number wrong."

Huh. "Why do you know that?" you say cautiously, your heart starting to race.

"Because the code was my birthday," she reveals, a satisfied smirk spreading across her face.

"Why would the code be your birthday?" you murmur, almost to yourself. Then it hits you, and your eyes widen as your heart stops. "Is this your car?!"

"My dad's," she corrects you quickly.  "It'd be weird if I didn't know the code to my own house right?" she starts laughing to herself, studying your reaction.

You should've listened to the warning bells blaring in your ears as soon as you laid your sights on the girl. She was different, there was something about her you found intriguing about her immediately. But you didn't know intriguing meant insane until this very moment.

Deciding it's not the best idea to drive in shock, you exit the highway, now in your territory, Brimstone, and park alongside a lowkey street.

You put the car in park and turn your entire body to face her. "So if I don't tell you my life story, you're going to snitch?" you ask looking deep into her brown eyes, trying to find any sign of a bluff. "I took care of the cameras," you suddenly say, remembering that she didn't have any tangible proof of you stealing this car if you returned it. "It's your word against mine," you smirked feeling as though you got the upper hand.

"All of them?" she questioned. "Even that one?" she smiled, pointing to the horn on the steering wheel.

You turn to look at what she's pointing to and see absolutely nothing. You turn back to her, you catch her glancing at an app on her phone displaying multiple surveillance feeds. One of them showing your face live, in perfect view from the steering wheel.

What kind of rich people technology is this? You look back to the wheel and still couldn't see the camera. You were trapped and this stranger had the upper hand on you.

You sigh, your mind running through millions of different possibilities on how to leave this situation unharmed. "Okay I'm sorry. Let me return the car then. I can't afford to get arrested," you plead, embarrassed to be caught in such a ridiculous situation.

"Greaser, I don't care about the car. I want to know why you ditched me. I want to know you."

Your heart flutters at her declaration. She wants to know you? All of this is just to get to know you? You may be a little twisted, but you're intrigued by the lengths she's gone to for answers.

"Okay. I'll answer. But can you please turn the camera off now. I don't want this to be documented."

She nods, tapping on her phone to disable the camera. She then turns to you, looking at you expectantly, waiting for your response.

So you begin.  You open up for the first time in your life—not entirely by choice, but because you feel like you have to.  You verbalize the inner turmoil, the impending doom that clouds your mind when you think of the life you've been dealt.  The choices you make—the choices you must make.

You tell her about Anton. How your father's founded the Sinners. How your cousin's the leader and you're not a member, but rather a mechanic who makes her living off of stealing, working and selling cars. How Anton's been trying to make you join the crew, fulfill your legacy.  How you're conflicted because you don't know if that's what you want.  How your father died during a race, and that's deterred you from joining the crew and driving in general. How you don't agree with the illegal activity the group partakes in. How your mom has also conditioned you to hate and avoid anything racing related.  How you feel trapped in the confines of Brimstone and stuck in the narrative of another poor Brimstoner who has to work themselves to the bone for the rest of their life.

When you finally finish, you realize you've been rambling, but you don't apologize.  She asked the question, and the entire time, she listened intently, nodding and showing understanding.

"And here I thought you were more than just a pretty face," she shakes her head disapprovingly.

You're shocked. You open up to someone for the first time and they're calling you stupid?  You narrow your eyes at her, not knowing what resulted in this response from her.

"So from what you've told me I've gathered that, you hate doing illegal shit, yet you steal cars. You hate racing, but you speed away from cops. You hate Brimstone, yet you're still here? You do realize you're the reason why you're playing the typical narrative."

You narrow your eyes, your blood beginning to boil. How dare she? After everything you just laid bare, she's making it sound like it's all black and white, like you're choosing this life.

"You think it's that simple?" you snap, your voice dripping with frustration. "You think I haven't tried to get out? I'm stuck here because I don't have a choice. My whole life has been about surviving—making sure I don't end up like my father. You think I want to be in this mess?"

She doesn't flinch. In fact, she barely reacts, just keeps looking at you with that infuriating calmness.

"Survival's one thing," she says calm, "but you're not just surviving—you're making excuses. You let the people around you make choices for you because it's easier than standing up to them."

You grit your teeth. "You don't know me."

"Maybe not," she admits, leaning back in her seat, eyes flickering with something like challenge. "But I know enough to see that you're scared. Scared of breaking away. Scared of what happens if you do. So you settle, and teeter on the edge, never crossing the lines—never pushing the limits."

The truth of her words stings, more than you care to admit. But you've never had anyone call you out like this before, and you don't know whether to be furious or impressed.

"You think I can just walk away from everything?" you ask, voice low but trembling with barely contained anger.

She tilts her head, considering you. "Maybe not. But you could try. Stop running from yourself and start making decisions for your own damn life."

The silence that follows is thick with tension.

You pull out your phone, scrolling through the flood of texts from Anton. From the string of messages, you piece together that the crew is busy on the opposite side of town, partying it up. The garage should be empty. You clench your jaw, too frustrated with the girl sitting beside you to even ask her to leave. You don't have the patience right now, and you need to make sure no one sees you bringing her to the garage. If anyone caught wind of this, it'd be a mess you couldn't afford.

Putting the car into drive, you embark on the ten minute journey to the garage where you mod your cars. Neither of you two say a word the entire way.

The garage comes into view, glancing over your shoulder, you double-check the coast is clear—no crew, no unwanted eyes.

As you cut the engine, the weight of the silence emerges again. You exhale sharply, gripping the steering wheel for a second longer than necessary before turning to her.

"End of the line. You can get out now," you say, trying to sound firm, though your frustration is laced with exhaustion.

She doesn't budge. Instead, she leans back in the seat, crossing her arms casually, like she's not about to leave anytime soon.

You roll your eyes. Instead, you decide to step out of the car first, feeling her gaze follow you as you make your way to the tool bench.

You hear the car door opening softly behind you, and shut a second after.

"Why are you still here?" you ask tiredly, turning around leaning against the tool bench. "I've told you my story."

She doesn't answer immediately, just watches you with those damn unreadable eyes of hers, arms still crossed leaning against the car you just stole, like she's perfectly comfortable in your world. After a moment, she tilts her head slightly, studying you.

"And yet, you still don't get it," she finally says, her voice low, but firm. "I'm not here for your story. I'm here for you."

Her words hit you harder than you expected, and you blink, thrown off guard.

"For me?" you scoff, shaking your head like it's the most ridiculous thing you've heard all day. "You don't even know me." You say again for the second time today.

"But I want to," she admits, pushing off the car and taking a step closer, "And I think you want me to, too."

Your heart skips a beat, but you try to ignore it, turning away to focus on anything but the intensity in her gaze. You're not about to let her see how much that statement rattled you.

That smirk is dangerous. You feel yourself slipping for a moment but catch yourself before you fall. She steps closer, her attention shifting to the workbench in front of you both. She picks up a wrench, but you can tell right away—it's too heavy for her. Her grip is awkward, and the strain on her flimsy wrists is almost comical.

You chuckle at her struggle. "That's not how you hold it."

Before you think twice, your hand moves over hers, guiding her fingers into the right position around the wrench. The touch lingers just a second too long, and you catch the faintest hitch in her breath.

You notice the brief flicker in her eyes. You quickly pull your hand away, pretending it didn't happen, and step back. "There. Now you won't drop it," you say, clearing your throat, trying to steer the moment back to neutral.

You swear you saw the faintest tinge of red on her cheeks, but she quickly looks away, trying to play it off. The sight of it sends a ripple of satisfaction through you, knowing you've managed to chip away at that confident exterior, if only for a moment.

"What's your name?" you suddenly ask, realizing you couldn't even address the girl who's been the bane of your existence.

"Jenna."

"Jenna," you repeat back softly, testing the name out on your lips. "It suits you."

"And what about you Greaser?" she asks with a smile, the rouge tint still on her face.

"Y/n," you reply, a hint of a smile creeping onto your lips as you say it. You know the weight of a name. It was the very reason you ditched Jenna at the race. Now that she's given her name and she's got yours, you know that means connection, connection means vulnerability and vulnerability means complications.

"Well, I'm calling it a night," you yawn, stretching your arms wide. You notice her gaze trailing over you, your shirt lifting just enough to expose a sliver of skin at your waistband.

"How are you getting home?" you ask, catching a glimpse of the playful spark in her darkened eyes.

"Uber? Or I could just crash at yours," she muses, wiggling her brows teasingly.

You know she's half-joking, but the idea lingers in your mind longer than you'd like. Honestly, it wouldn't be the worst thing. But you're relieved she's not serious; the last thing you want is for her to see how you really live.

It suddenly dawns on you that the home you were just at is hers, along with that stunning car. She leads a lavish life, one you can barely fathom. You can only imagine what she'd think of your own living conditions—a stark contrast to her world of luxury.

You sigh, cursing yourself for what you're about to do. Grabbing a key off the table, you walk towards another car in the garage. "Come on, I'll take you home," you call out.

Jenna tried her hardest to hold the smile on her face in. You cared about her, that's what that had to mean right? You didn't want her getting in the car of a stranger, and would rather have to drive her all the way back to Summer Valley, then potentially have her at harm's way.

Before you knew it you were back on the highway to Summer Valley. In the silence, you realized that the girl knew so much about you, yet you knew little to nothing.

"So why didn't your boyfriend drop you home?" you ask her, shifting the conversation you two were having about which crew had the better jackets.

The question catches her off guard, and she does a double take. You remember how she startled you earlier when you were about to steal the car—she was walking home. "Boyfriend?" she repeats, a hint of surprise in her voice.

"Yeah Percy," you say looking straight ahead.

"Oh my god ew! He's not my boyfriend," she retorts, shuddering at the thought.

You can't help but chuckle at her reaction. "That hug you shared with him at the race says otherwise."

"You saw that?" she asks, her voice softening with a hint of embarrassment.

You nod. "So, you're not into him, then?"

"Not even close," she replies, crossing her arms defiantly. "He thinks he's so cool, but I can't stand him. It's all just an act."

An act? Posturing?

You fall silent for a few moments, weighing whether to voice the thought swirling in your head. Something tells you that asking this question could open a door between you two, or perhaps it already has.

"Okay," you sigh, glancing over at her. "What do you need my help with?"

Jenna's expression shifts, seriousness replacing the playful glint in her eyes. She realized that you finally picked up on the tension and underlying problem under her words.

"I need to get some dirt on Percy," she reveals getting right to the point.

You didn't know what to expect, but it certainly wasn't this. But for some reason it does make sense to you that this asshole's crew member did not like him. You raise an eyebrow, intrigued. "Why?"

"Because he has some serious leverage over me," she explains, her tone steady. "If I can find something on Percy, maybe I can turn the tables and protect me and my family."

Your heart races at the revelation. You want to press for details, want to know what exactly does Percy have on her, but you decide better against it. She'll tell you with time. "So you're with the Vipers because of him?"

Frustration flashes across her face. "Yeah, something like that," she sighs not elaborating. "He thinks he can control me. And he has been all this time," she frowns. "But I want to show him he's wrong!"

You can't help but admire her determination. "Why me? You couldn't find someone else to help you?" you ask, genuinely curious about her choice.

Jenna meets your gaze, her expression resolute. "Because you're not like the others in the crew—you're different. I can't turn to any of the other Vipers incase they rat me out. I can't ask any of the Sinners for obvious reasons, but I had a feeling about you. And its perfect now that I know you aren't a Sinner. You're close enough to the race world but not too close. Plus, I saw how resourceful you are when you stole that car. If anyone can help me, it's you."

Her faith in you feels like a heavy weight and a warm glow all at once.  You take a moment to process her words. "And you trust me?"

She bites her lip, contemplating her response. "Trust is a strong word, but I believe you understand what it's like to feel trapped.  I need someone who gets it, someone who wants to fight back against the odds."

"I know I'm throwing a lot at you right now. Just... talk to me about it later, okay? It's 4am and I get that this is a lot to take in."

All you can do is nod. You can't believe you're even considering this for even a second. Why would you help a Viper? Especially one who's been so disrespectful and always seems to challenge you.

She grabs your phone which isn't password protected, and starts putting her number in it. "I really hope you help me Y/n. I need you."

You don't respond. As you approach her street you see a swarm of cops in front of her home. Knowing exactly why, you pull over about 12 houses away from hers.

"Wait won't your dad also have the camera footage of me—"

"Don't worry, I already took care of it," she smiles, proud of herself. "Consider that car a friendly offering for our potential alliance."

A four-hundred thousand dollar car, as an offering is baffling. But maybe this is how the rich operate.

While you're lost in thought about everything that's happened tonight, you suddenly feel a soft brush of lips against your cheek.

It's gone as quickly as it came, and you're left stunned.

"Thanks for the ride, Greaser. I'll be waiting for your text."

With that, she steps out of the car and strides toward her home, toward the police, her distraught father, and a world so different from your own.

You already knew your answer to her request. You could've told her right then and there, but you wanted her number and kept silent. You also didn't want to seem too eager.

As you watch her walk off, you realize you never answered her question.

I want to know why you ditched me.

"Because I think you're the answer to all my problems. I need you too."

next chapter

[ranhaitanisgf]

hi! could i request headcanons or oneshot (either is okay) for bonten timeline sanzu haruchiyo with an excitable, extroverted reader? thank you so much, and no worries if not! (+ also your theme still says rqs are closed, but i saw you posted them being open two hrs ago :3)

pay attention to me!!

synopsis: how would bonten haruchiyo act w/ an excited & extroverted s/o?

☆ a/n ˎˊ˗ idk if yall can tell but ive never written for mr haru lawl ... also !! i added a little mini oneshot cause i couldn't help myself :3 thank you so much for requesting !! this was so cute to write !! i hope everyone enjoysss xoxo

☆ characters ˎˊ˗ sanzu (akashi) haurchiyo x g/n!reader

☆ wc ˎˊ˗ 2.7k+

masterlist

❥ sanzu thinks you’re annoying at first. 

❥ he doesn’t notice at all when you first move into his apartment building; he doesn’t take much care in noticing small things like that if it didn’t relate to bonten. his work and mikey were the only important things to him, so when he hears excited squealing seeping through his walls one day, he thinks that his neighbor has a kid, (which quite frankly annoyed him, but he decided he didn’t care enough to do anything about it). 

❥ there was no estimated time as to when he would get home--ranging anywhere from 6pm to 4am--so it takes at least a month or two for him to meet you officially. coincidentally, he had been going out to grab a drink from the convenience store when you were excitedly jumping around outside your door, a delivery package in your hands. 

“oh! omg, are you sanzu-san?!” “...hah? who’re you?” “oh my gosh, i’ve been knocking on your door everyday for the past month, but you never seemed to be home! i never got to introduce myself to you! i’m (l/n) (y/n)! i moved in not that long ago, so i wanted to get to know my neighbors!”  “‘kay. bye.” 

❥ the only thing he wants to do is get away from you; he doesn’t want to be bothered with civilians, much less someone as annoying as you seemed to be. seriously, why were you talking so loud?!

❥ much to his displeasure, you followed him all the way to the convenience store, talking his ear off about the most meaningless things he’s ever heard of in his life, (how does somebody talking about nothing for so long?!) as he purchases his drinks and walks back to the apartment building. it takes everything in him not to snap at you; if he did, he would probably wake up all the neighbors from raising his voice, which wouldn’t be ideal since this was already his fifth apartment in the last six months. 

❥ he’s unsure how you possibly couldn’t get a hint that he didn’t want to be bothered, especially after he only said a maximum of ten words to you in the whole thirty minutes you were following him around, (are you really that clueless? is this what loneliness does to people?). it does take him by surprise that you aren’t scared of him though; you’d shown absolutely no sign of apprehension despite the scars around his mouth, which he supposes shows a bit of good character from you. not that he really cares. 

❥ he’s more than happy to shut the door on your face when he gets back to his apartment, finally indulging in the peace and quiet of his apartment, (he doesn’t think he’s ever been so happy to hear nothing). right when he’s opening his bottle of sake, he hears squealing through the walls. when you start monologuing about whatever you’d received in the mail, he just decides to quit and go to bed. 

❥ sanzu isn’t sure how, but you have somehow made it your routine to follow him places whenever you ran into him. he also isn’t sure why he continuously allows you to tag along with him, but as long as it doesn’t affect his work, he doesn’t really care. 

❥ you’re always talking about something; the weather, your coworker’s strange behavior the other day, or the stray cat you saw in the alleyway that ran away. there are times when he tunes out your talking and uses it as white noise, but you never seemed to get upset at the fact that he visibly is zoning out. 

❥ after a while, he gets used to your constant presence around him, so much so that he finds it strange to not hear your excited yammering while he’s at work, (although he supposes he wouldn’t want to have that constantly in his ear while he’s doing ‘business’ with someone). 

❥ the one thing that gets the attention of the rest of the bonten executives is when he suddenly stops going to the clubs, leaving whatever work he had there for during the day when it was barren. it was such a drastic change in behavior; sure, sanzu was never the type to be obsessed with the scantily dressed girls in the club, but he was known for taking some home every once in a while. at the very least, he was known for getting various types of substances from sketchy dealers who frequently attended. what’s even stranger to everyone is the fact that he slowly starts to engage in less substances, (though he still does every once in a while) which is what rings the alarm bells. 

“oi, sanzu.” “what do you want, ran? i’m fuckin’ busy.”  “well, it can wait. the fuck’s been up with you lately? you’ve been acting weird as shit.” “so?”  “so, what the hell’s been up with you?” “none of your goddamn business, that’s what.”  “woahh, easy there, man. seriously, somethin’ bothering you?”  “i said it’s nothing, so drop it.”

❥ by the time he realizes what he’s been doing, it’s too late for him. you and your talkative self have wiggled their way into his heart, setting up camp to stay for a while. he had a glimpse of a thought of it when ran was confronting him, but he immediately pushed it out of his mind because how could that possibly be true? 

❥ it can’t be true, even if he unwillingly likes to think about it now. he can’t let himself think about it; you were one of the most strange yet innocent and pure people he’s ever met, so how could he willingly taint you with someone like himself? no, he wouldn’t let it happen.

❥ and just like that, everything seems to be back to normal for him. he goes to the club even more than he did before, and the amount of substances he uses seems to increase exponentially by the week. he begins to sleep on the couch in his dingy office instead of going home so that he doesn’t run into you, only going home for the bare essentials every couple days, (and even then, he leaves after just a few minutes). 

❥ it’s just his luck that he gets out of his car the moment you turn the corner onto the apartment building’s block, seeing him in plain sight as he freezes for a moment. and then he unfreezes because 1.) why is he of all people scared to run into you? he’s a bonten executive, he’s killed people before, so why was his heart beating so fast right now? and 2.) he needs to get away from there. right now. 

˗ˏˋ𖤐ˎˊ˗

“hey!! not so fast, haruchiyo!!” you shout, your steps hastening as you try to catch up with him. sanzu can hear your steps behind him, but his long legs give him the advantage as he quickly ducks into the apartment building, smashing the elevator button and tapping his foot as it decides to be as slow as it possibly can be. 

he lets out a ‘tsk!’ sound when he notices you enter the building, promptly looking away from you and looking cooly at the blinker indicating what level the elevator was on, (can this thing move faster?!). 

“stop ignoring me!! where have you been?!” you questioned, your voice a mix of worry and anger. “i’ve been knocking on your door everyday with no response!! i know you don’t particularly like me, but you’re the only person who doesn’t walk away from me, so could you at least give me a reason that you suddenly started avoiding me?!” 

“...’m not avoiding you.” sanzu doesn’t know what to do right now; he’s never seen you angry like this before. typically, he would care less about the feelings of some random person like you, but for some reason the hurt in your voice makes him unusually unsure of himself. 

you scoffed at his lame excuse, rolling your eyes. 

“look! you’re trying to avoid me right now with elevator! seriously, can you just tell me what i did? i won’t do it again, i swear! just stop avoiding me!” 

“fuck, it’s not you!” sanzu suddenly said, his voice strained. “i’m just busy, okay?! you’re better off being friends with someone else.” 

“but you’re already my friend!! why don’t you want to keep talking to me??” sanzu ignored your words, his gaze staring straight ahead at the doors of the elevator, his stare so intense that you could almost think he was trying to open it telepathically. “hey!! can you just answer the damn question already, haruchiyo?!” 

“why do you need to know so fuckin’ badly?! i just said i’m busy!!” 

“because! i like you!” you yelled, your eyes seeming to get a bit watery. “and i know you don’t like me and that’s fine but i just want to be able to talk to you and see you sometimes, but now you’re always gone and i don’t know when you’re going to come back and it scares me! i just-” 

sanzu cut off your words, promptly stepping in front of you and slipping his hand behind your head, slamming his lips into yours. he’s not even sure himself why he did something stupid like this, especially when the whole reason he was avoiding you was because of his own flaws, but he couldn’t help himself when he heard you being so cute and worried over him, (seriously, how was he supposed to resist something like that?). 

it obviously took you off guard at first, but sanzu made sure you quickly realized what was going on, his mouth desperately pressing against yours. his kiss was rough but passionate, his lips moving quickly against yours as he pulled you closer to him, his other hand sliding around you to rest on the small of your back, (he’s doing it purely out of instinct; he hasn’t really thought about how he had been avoiding you for this very reason). 

a small ding! from the elevator grabs your attention, making you push him off of you as someone comes out from the elevator, glancing at the two of you a bit suspiciously before walking out of the building, leaving both of you in silence. 

“uh…wanna go to the convenience store for snacks…?”

˗ˏˋ𖤐ˎˊ˗

❥ it took a little bit for sanzu to open up to you about anything even a little bit, but once he did, you were able to figure him out pretty quickly, especially when he’d finally decided to be truthful about his actual profession, (bro does not work an office 9-5). due to all of this, it’s easy to tell that sanzu has a lot of issues, but it wasn’t something that you weren’t willing to work through with him!

❥ the two of you are the definition of black cat and golden retriever! you are always excited about everything and are taking him to all the cool and trendy places on dates while he is more quiet, keeping close to your side and watching everything with a careful eye, (especially people he defines as creeps, i.e. people who look at you for more than 0.2 seconds). 

❥ date wise, he is usually following your lead. he doesn’t have the slightest clue about what you think it romantic, so it will usually be you planning outings for the two of you. a lot of times he will complain about being tired and not wanting to go out, but don’t worry, he’s completely lying; he just thinks it’s cute when you whine and pull his arm asking him to come out with you. 

❥ despite the fact that he is not the most romantic guy, he does a lot of romantic things without realizing. he enjoys sending you your favorite flowers when you’re at work or staying at home while he’s at work, sending cute little notes along with them, (well, you think they are pretty cute). 

i think you like these ones. -h be ready by seven. wear something you feel good in. -h sorry i didn’t buy milk. there’s frozen waffles in the freezer. -h

❥ sanzu does a lot of those little things for you too; opening doors for you, pulling chairs out for you, taking things out of your hands when you’re carrying a lot, etc. it doesn’t seem like he’s the type to do things like this, but it’s because he isn’t the type to do it. he only does it for you, and he himself doesn’t even know why he does these things, (he’s head over heels in love with you, but in no universe will he ever actually admit that). 

❥ the most protective over you, and a little possessive too. he doesn’t control everything that you do, but he likes to have a clear-cut plan of everything you do on a normal day so that his mind is put at ease, (also so he can known when something is wrong). he won’t tell you this, but he has someone assigned to keeping an eye on your as you go about your day because he’s extremely paranoid that somebody from an opposing gang will try and come after you. he would prefer if he could by your side himself, but it’s the next best option, (he still sends frequent texts and calls you throughout the day to make sure everything is well). 

❥ the possessive part of him comes out more when he thinks people are hitting on you, (they really are just being nice; he’s just a little bit crazy…he loves you though!!). he doesn’t hesitate to slide his long arms all around you, letting you continue talking while he makes a deadly eye contact with the person, his face twisted in mild disgust as if he were looking down at a cockroach, (he’s mastered this expression somehow). he knows that you enjoy talking with people so he won’t keep you from doing so, but in the process he will make sure that everybody knows you’re his. 

❥ sanzu’s not the most affectionate person there is, but he is affectionate when he wants to be. there are times when he’ll come home and not say a word, just wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his head in the crook of your neck, mumbling something about having a terrible day. really, he just becomes a big baby when he’s like that, laying his lanky limbs all over you and claiming that he’s ‘recharging’. 

❥ it’s hard to label sanzu as an extrovert/introvert, since it can really depend on what mood he’s in and the situation. he’s more of an introvert in public settings with other people, (he doesn’t know how to interact nicely with people he doesn’t know) but when he’s with a majority of people he knows, he turns into more of an extrovert which matches with your energy quite nicely. 

❥ unintentionally, there comes a time when you accidentally get to meet the rest of his coworkers. it happened when they were dropping him back off at home after a night at the club and you’d had to come get him from the car because of how inebriated he was. 

“woah, you’re (y/n), huh?”  “oh, yes! it’s nice to meet you! you all must work with haru, right? please continue to take good care of him! would you like to come inside for a snack or some water?”  “...dude, what the fuck.”  “how the hell did he bag someone like that?!” 

❥ safe to say, they are all extremely shocked, (they never would have thought that someone like sanzu would be dating someone as sweet and talkative as you). the next day when he gets into work, he’s immediately hounded with all types of questions surrounding you and how the two of you started to date. 

“holy shit, is that why you were acting crazy a few months ago?!”  “i wasn’t acting fuckin’ crazy?!” “sanzu, you’re the craziest person here, and you started acting normal!! that was crazy!!” 

❥ after that, he makes sure that his associates never get to see you again, (“hey, bring your pretty lil thing around sometime!”, “i would rather kill you right now.”).

[e-vay]

so… i turn thirty this year & after two failed relationships, im unsure how to have hope i’ll ever find my “person”. Ive been following you for a long time… how did you have hope that you’d eventually find someone and have a happy relationship?

If this is too intense or personal to ask, dont worry i just,,, i dont know. Its a struggle to feel like i’ll ever find The One and i know you went through something similar so… maybe you’d just have advice?

Thank you,,, i hope youre having an amazing night ❤️

I don’t mind you asking me this. If talking about the hard times I went through can help others get through it, I think it’s worth discussing. 

Like you said, I also struggled with love for a long time and after a few devastating relationships I gave up on dating altogether for a while. But, in hindsight, that ended up being a blessing because I was able to spend time bettering myself and—most importantly—learn to love myself. Yes, having a partner can make our lives richer, but I think it’s important to be able to enjoy your own company. Before, I thought the void inside of me needed to be filled by another person, so I would go out of my way to find somebody to do that without actually worrying whether or not they were the correct fit for me. Having time to focus on myself made me a better person (I think), and it ultimately ended up being for the best because I no longer felt like I was less than. Of course, I would still feel lonely from time-to-time and I’ve always been a romantic so I love the idea of love, but I got to the point where I felt fulfilled enough on my own so that when I met my now-husband, the feeling was significantly different. It wasn’t “I need to put this person in the hole that is my heart so that I can crawl my way up out of this pit,”... It was instead “Oh, this person significantly ADDS to the joy in my life” and that’s one of the reasons why he stood out to me as a partner. Though I would have liked to have met my husband sooner in life, honestly? Had we met sooner, before I matured and improved myself, we likely wouldn’t have worked out. I'm not saying you need to improve yourself. I'm just saying that that's what helped me and ended up giving me hope.

I also think society gives us too many unrealistic expectations and goals that we’re expected to meet by certain “deadlines”. Everybody moves at their own pace and has their own journey that’s unique to them. We can’t all be expected to follow the same linear path; humans are just too different. I was my husband’s very first girlfriend and he was 36 years old when we started dating. But when I’ve asked him if he’s upset/disappointed he never had a relationship before meeting me, he’s told me “No, I think we met when we were supposed to.”

Lastly, I want to address my personal beliefs on “The One.” Y’all know I’m a romantic and I do believe in soulmates, but I also believe we’re capable of having more than one soulmate. The world is too big for us to be limited to the chance of only ever finding one single person who is compatible for us. And if we miss out on meeting that one person, our chance of love is shot??? I just don’t believe that. When widows/widowers remarry, does that diminish the love they had for their late spouse? Of course not. It doesn’t mean their first love wasn’t just as important and meaningful as their new love. So, maybe you could find it helpful if you adopt this mindset as well. I think it makes the idea of romance seem less impossible.

I don’t know if this makes you feel any better but at the very least I hope you don’t feel worse for having read it! I don’t know you personally, but I wish you absolute happiness.

It's going to be okay 🙂

[milfjuulpod]

Guidance Ch IV

An apology is shared between you and Melissa, with a surprise had afterwards.

read the first chapters here

A/N hi don’t hate me for this being so late, i’m working on the next chapter for you lovelies already! does anyone read these notes? anywho lmk what you think!! kisses 💋

Before your alarm went off in the morning, you were up. Anxiety high, mind full of everything that could go wrong meeting with Melissa today. Last time you saw her it went…not well. You were ready thirty minutes early, heading to the coffee shop much faster than you should be driving at 6:30 in the morning. 

Coming on to the school grounds, you had your bag slung over your shoulder, two coffees in hand. A latte for you, and a macchiato for Melissa. Of course there was an apology to go along with the coffee, but it couldn’t hurt to bring her a little present. After dropping off your personal belongings, you made the unbearable trek to her classroom. The warmth from the drinks didn’t help the sweat coming from your hands. 

At her door, you took in a deep breath. Never before have you been so nervous to apologize. What if she was still mad and didn’t want to listen? What if she didn’t believe you? Realizing the options were to go inside and give it your best shot, or stand outside the door and spiral out, you finally decided on the former. 

A couple quiet knocks on the door, and you gently let yourself in. Melissa’s head popped up at the sound, her demeanor stiffening at the sight of you. “Hey, I wanted to apologize,” you started. The redhead said nothing, in fact she crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. Nonetheless, you approached her desk and continued. 

“I shouldn’t have believed what I heard, especially since things were going so well, there was no reason to. And I’m sorry for making such a big deal out of it. I know you’re probably regretting starting to be friends, so I hope we can at least remain professional.” You ended the statement by placing the coffee in front of her and immediately leaving. After accidentally getting a bit emotional with your words at the end, you just wanted to leave. 

Luckily your office wasn’t far, and you were back in a safe space, for now, at least. You pulled out your phone to text Gregory that you took his advice and hoped for the best, and texted Janine the same thing as well. One for logical support and one for girl talk, of course. After wrapping up those conversations, you started up your computer for the work day. Only fifteen minutes until the kids came in, which didn’t affect you as much, but chaos would sure ensue. 

You had barely gotten started when there was a knock at your office door, strange since it was so early. You offered a “Come in!” and poked your head past the screen to see who could be needing something at this hour. It was Melissa, with a look you hadn’t seen on her before. Embarrassment, shame maybe. 

     “Hey,” She started, closing the door behind her. She didn’t sit down at your desk though, instead she remained at the door. “Thank you for the coffee, you didn’t have to do that. If anything I’m the one who should be sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that hon, I know how Janine can be and the reputation I have. I know you mean well.” 

You were silent for a moment. Shocked, honestly, at Melissa’s words and actions. It took you a moment to gather your words, trying to be careful this time. 

       “It’s okay. I think it’s safe to say neither of us handled it well,” You joked. She smiled, but didn’t look at you. The floor seemed to be more interesting at the moment. The redhead stood there silently, looking at the floor. Her smile faded into a furrowed brow. Unsure of what to do, you waited, afraid of scaring her off. From what you knew about the woman, Melissa was not one to get emotional with others, so treading lightly seemed best. 

      “I don’t regret it, by the way.” She finally spoke. Her emerald eyes finally returned to your gaze again after she got her first sentence out. You bit back a smile, trying to hide the joy and pride from watching Melissa work out and speak about her emotions not only in front of you, but to you directly. It was a big step for her, so it was clear she was no longer upset with you. She seemed to be in a better place, so you tried for more. 

      “You don’t regret what, Melissa?” You asked, but instead of keeping eye contact, you focused on moving your bag from the desk to the floor and a few other items around, giving her a moment of space and pseudo-solitude. 

       “Being friends with you. Earlier when you were…bringing me coffee you said I might regret starting to be friends with you. I just want you to know I don’t,” She answered after a couple moments. You looked back up at her and smiled, unable to hold it back this time. “I’m happy to hear that, I’ll see you at lunch?”

        “I’ll see you there,” Melissa replied and returned your smile, turning to make her exit. “Hold on…Did you just, guidance counselor me?” She asked, hand frozen on the door handle. 

      “Maybe,” You replied, not taking your eyes off the screen in front of you. The redhead huffed in annoyance but you turned your gaze at the right time and saw she was still smiling. 

The first half of the day was easy to get through thanks to the buzz from seeing your work crush earlier. Lunch luckily came sooner than expected, and you made your way down to the break room with a pep in your step. Upon arrival, you saw Melissa and Barbara were already at their usual seats, with a third empty spot next to Melissa. You started walking towards the fridge, but stopped halfway. In an effort to make amends with your friend this morning, lunch was completely forgotten about. With a sigh, you turned back around to get lunch elsewhere. 

       “Hey kid, where ya goin?” You knew that voice from anywhere. With an extra pouty look, you turned to face Melissa. 

       “I may or may not have forgotten my lunch this morning, so I’m going to grab something at the store really quick,” You answered. Melissa kicked out the seat next to her and motioned for you to come to her, so you did. She pushed the tupperware she had to you and got up to the fridge to grab a salad she had as well. When she sat back down, you gave her a quiet thank you, to which she gave you a warm smile. 

    Your phone buzzed on the table, a text from Jacob that read, I’m glad to see this morning went well! 

    You smiled and set the phone back down, and when you looked up, Melissa was looking at you with a smirk and raised brow. Rolling your eyes earned you a nudge from the other woman, she obviously saw the text as well. Lunch continued with this light energy, everyone chatting about their day and whatever was on their minds for the next thirty minutes. It was nice, you were starting to feel settled at Abbott. Even though the issue with Melissa wasn’t pleasant, it made you realize how quickly you had become one of the group.

Despite getting a head start on this morning, the day seemed to drag with the amount of work on your plate. It wasn’t until after the kids had left that you were finally pulled away from the strenuous projects you took on. 

“It’s open,” You said sweetly to whoever was behind the door, not yet glancing up from the computer. 

“Hey, what’s-Oh! Melissa!” You interrupted yourself as soon as you looked up and saw the Italian woman. She tried to hide her smile and pink cheeks, but you caught it, just in time. 

“Hi hon, could I sit with you for a minute?” She asked, but instead of pulling out the chair in front of you, she crossed sides of the room and sat herself atop your desk, barely scooting over your keyboard. 

“Yeah go ahead, make yourself at home,” You teased. In that instant, you realized how close she was to you. Her knees were level with your abdomen, just a couple inches away, sitting oh so pretty on your desk. You couldn’t look anywhere but her even if you wanted to, and couldn’t help but wonder if she did that on purpose. 

“Listen…I’m startin’ to think my apology this morning wasn’t enough. Let me make you dinner tonight, at mine,” Her sultry voice spoke. 

Dinner? At Melissa’s? Cooked by her? Was this a dream?

“Words, my dear. Yes or no? You won’t hurt my feelings.” It was so hard to focus on her words and speak your own when she looked this good, this close, treating you with this kind of attention. 

“I- Yes. Yeah, I’d love that.”

“Good, because I lied. That would’ve hurt my feelings,” She smiled at you, and you returned it. “I’ll text you my address now, just let me know when you’re heading over. I’ll probably start cooking around 6, but you’re welcome over whenever,” Melissa told you. She went to stand and take her exit, but you stopped her with your hands on her knees. 

“Wait, do you want me to bring anything? I can’t expect you to do all the work,” You said honestly, trying to ignore how warm Melissa’s skin felt through the fabric of her pants. Unbeknownst to you, she was trying to ignore the sensation as well. 

“Mm, I think I have a couple bottles of wine at the house but if you want anything specific I’d grab it on the way. Other than that, just bring you. That’s all I need,” The redhead smiled and gently took your hands off her so she could stand. As she walked out of your office, she shouted, “See ya tonight!”

[fitgirlfemdom]

Small dick anon here. When I was 185lbs it measured 5 inches, but by the time I was 270 pounds it was only 4 inches with all the fat around it. I never used to have any complaints about my size but once I got bigger it changed. I would only occasionally slip out of someone before and was able to get a good amount of motion. By my biggest weight I had two sexual experiences. The first was with a longtime fwb who loved my dick I was around 260 and my partner likewise. With the extra weight it never stayed hard for as long, and I realized unless I was like totally hard I couldnt stay inside them at all. Theyd guide me in, I’d thrust my heavy overly sweaty body forward and when id motion back it would fall out. I ended up feeling so embarrassed after a few minutes of this that I took my half hard dick and just rubbed it against their clit using my hand and eventually I thrusting my shaft against them. In the end they came a couple times.

The next time I had sex I was even more out of shape at 273 and it was with a girl who was at least 270 herself. I tried fucking them missionary the same as the fwb but our stomachs were both so big. The same thing happened as before but I got hard enough to stay in. I literally couldnt actually thrust it forward it basically was just weight shifting without any friction. This only lasted a minute before she asked me to fuck her from behind. Her ass was huge and I barely got any friction, also had to rest my stomach on her ass to even get inside a little. She put her hands on the wall and rode my dick and that was the only way anything happened. Id never had it happen before but after about a minute i told her I was going to cum. I meant this to mean “slow down” but she started saying “cum for me baby” and pushed her ass into me harder. I came less than 10 seconds later drenched in sweat and completely out of breath. Id barely done anything. I felt so embarrassed I didnt even try fucking her again. She definitely didnt cum and she barely felt it at all.

I also had an online relationship where I showed her my dick and asked if she thought id be big enough to fuck her from behind or if id need a strap and she said “definitely a strap.” Apparently the first time i sent her a video of me touching myself it started with me being flaccid and between how fat my fupa was, you could only see the head and she thought i had a clit until i got harder. I’m 240 now so its still a small dick but i remember at my highest weight when i was flaccid even peeing had to be done sitting down because i didnt have enough length to aim and id have lean over to get the job done and then wipe up after like a girl. I wish I could have stayed that weight for longer, I really wanted to find a thin girl for the first time in my life just so I could see how disappointing I would be. Ive trained myself to cum in under a couple minutes and someday i hope I can get to be over 300 pounds so I can truly be pathetic. I was so close to buried penis syndrome I know with the right guidance and support I could get myself there and be a bit pathetic neutered fuck toy for someone to abuse and humiliate lol

AGHHHHH i've got a lot to say about this.

this reads like a fantasy scenario i'd post on here. the slow degradation of your sexual nature from average dude to sexual degenerate gets me going.

i've also heard from multiple pigs in my DMs that sex gets very difficult at the 270+ size, with cowgirl being the only suitable position. i can only imagine how difficult that would be if your female partner was also fat. honestly i'm having trouble understand how that would even work, but i digress. the girl's ass being so fat you couldn't even penetrate? honestly i feel bad for everyone in this situation. her riding you and making you cum in thirty seconds surprised me, as if i was in that situation, there's no way i'm letting a pig cum that quickly. omg i would've rode your face for an hour til you calmed your horny ass down

the last paragraph GOT ME. having such a small, covered dick that girls think you have a vulva is crazy. as a thin woman, i've never seen a dick that small in real life. i think the smallest dick of one of my partners was 4 inches, and it was so unsatisfying i swore off sex for the past year 😭 i can only imagine going out with a loser, giving him a chance, and getting home to seeing a one-inch nub between his legs. would you be able to penetrate anything with that? you'd probably have to just get oral for the rest of your life. i wonder how crazy it would feel to have a way smaller surface area, but the same amount of nerves, as an average sized cock. do you think you'd be sensitive? do you think you'd be able to have a vibrator on your little cockhead for more than a few minutes without shooting ropes? do you think if a pretty girl just sucked on your little cock for a few moments, you'd start moaning like a pathetic gooner? you'd want so bad to just fuck her like you used to be able to, but your dick just isn't good enough. you'll probably just end up humping her ass with your gut on her back while you cum down her thighs.

so helpless at sex that you'd just be reduced to sitting under your girl's desk, eating out her cunt while you jerk off your little nub between your fingers. eventually, you might get quite good at it. she might never even let you fuck her again, binding you up in a custom chastity cage because it's not like you can use it anyway.

aghhh thank you for this message small dick anon. i wish more of my inbox messages were like this

[1d1195]

Love and Dryer Sheets IV

Read the rest here: Love and Dryer Sheets

~4.2k words

Warnings: emotional cheating, pining, angst, maybe some fluff if you squint

Now I know I have a heart…because it’s breaking.

Ava texted Harry to let him know she made it to the restaurant. She even apologized about the thing with her keys. There was even a heart emoji. Harry was spending the time she was out, face down on the sofa, trying not to scream. But it felt like he needed to. In fact, it felt like he needed to lay face down in traffic but obviously he couldn’t actually do that.

Harry’s conscience decided now was the time to give up on him. Maybe the little voice thought Harry was just simply too stupid to deal with right now. What was he even supposed to do? The voice in his head all but told him exactly what would happen. It tried to warn him. It was completely, totally Harry’s fault for fucking up so. Very. Badly.

Harry sat up about ten minutes before Ava was set to be home. He made a list on his phone of things he needed to do; there was no order to the list as the last item was probably most important…but his already broken, stupid mind didn’t have it in him to put it first, out in the open like that.

-Work portfolio -Gemma b-day present -Laundry -Tell Ava -Tell...

He didn’t want to finish the last sentence.

What were his options? 

He could tell Ava. But that ensured a blowout fight. They would probably break up. Would Ava leave? Technically Harry found this place. Naturally, she complained how her fifteen-minute commute to work was brutal every couple months (usually around holidays when the traffic would amplify to thirty minutes—not that she ever left a moment earlier to account for the time differential) and made sure to tell Harry that she didn’t like living here. 

But…Harry didn’t like the idea of breaking up. It felt like he was losing. Everyone had sympathetic eyes for him when Ava made him mad–especially in public. There goes the poor sap that can’t get out of a bad relationship. But it wasn’t bad. At least…it wasn’t always bad. Harry had to stay for a reason right?

What are those reasons? The voice of Harry’s heart was turning into his second conscience but almost entirely for the benefit of Harry’s happiness.

The sympathetic eyes would soon become I-told-you-so-eyes. That was the last thing Harry wanted. 

Maybe he needed to call Gemma. Gemma was like a compass. She always knew what to do to help her little brother and this might be the stupidest thing he had ever done. But he didn’t need to call her. He knew exactly what she would say. It’s not fair to you or Ava to be in a relationship that makes you both so unhappy. Gemma would be kind. She probably wouldn’t even say I told you so just to be nice.

But he would know.

He cheated. Plain as day. There was no if ands or buts. There was no way to deny it. No taking it back. He messed up.

But the little voice in charge of his heart wasn’t going down without a fight. This is a good thing. It insisted. You want to break up with Ava. You haven’t been happy in a while! Sunshine. You need Sunshine.

But Harry, now taking over for his conscience that abandoned him on the elevator ride back to their place, knew that it was easier said than done. It was way more complicated. Perhaps most importantly, it was so irreconcilably stupid on his part that despite how much he needed some sunshine in his life, he did it the very worst way possible.

Because even though what he did to Ava was despicable, the thought of hurting that sweet girl in the laundry room hurt his fragile heart even more.

*

Harry could hardly sleep beside Ava. He tossed and turned for the better part of the night. By the time six in the morning rolled around he was completely exhausted and restless. If he got four hours’ worth of sleep, he was lucky. It was Saturday. He wanted to sleep in. If he slept in, he wouldn’t have to deal with the shitty situation he got himself into for a while longer.

But instead, his restless mind was punishing his stupid behavior by making him wallow in it. Making him wake up at six in the morning on a Saturday so he could recognize his stupid, stupid mistake.

“Harry?” Ava sounded sleepy of course. “Y’okay, baby?” She asked.

Harry felt the warmth of her kind voice seeping through his whole body. Especially with the name baby on her lips.

Shit.

“M’fine, love,” he lied.

“S’early,” she slurred tiredly.

“Can’t sleep,” he shrugged, starting to roll out of bed. “I’ll go to the other room,” he mumbled. She frowned and Harry couldn’t help but notice how cute she looked when she wasn’t at his throat for every little thing. Her concern made him warm over a little more. The guilt he felt ached a little more.

“Okay,” she sighed. “Hope you feel better,” she murmured. He leaned over and pressed a kiss to the crown of her head. It was like he was on autopilot. As if he had done it thousands of times before. It was moments like this, the quiet, gentle ones, that made him believe in the reasoning behind staying in a relationship that drove him crazy most days.

Moments like that made him understand he had to tell his laundry partner the bad news.

*

Ava wasn’t stupid.

She had a degree, a job, and two eyes that told her Harry was happy. Happier than he had seemed in a really long time.

Of course, his happiness didn’t involve her.

And that made her mad.

She wasn’t quite sure what had changed about Harry specifically; why he got so happy so suddenly. As far as she knew he went to work and came home. But with the way they argued and how irritated she felt just looking at Harry some days, she knew something was off in his demeanor.

It wasn’t that she wanted Harry to be unhappy. It was more of the fact that she was unhappy. Ava knew very well that misery loved company. Seeing him happy set off some kind of switch in her head that Harry was in fact her boyfriend and they were supposed to be happy. Seeing him get joy from something else, especially when she wasn’t part of it, irked her more than the way Harry snapped his gum while they watched TV or how he left socks outside the laundry basket and forgot to put the toilet seat down (consistently) late at night.

Harry was a wonderful boyfriend. He always had been from the moment they started dating. Her mom even teased him saying he was too good for Ava. Ava didn’t see it that way. Ava enjoyed her personality and herself and didn’t think anything needed to change. She didn’t see anything wrong with the way she behaved or acted—as her mom put it. She did what she wanted, when she wanted, and how she wanted.

Right now, she wanted Harry right where he was.

“Do you feel better now?” She asked him as she entered the sitting room.

“Yeah, a bit,” he nodded. “I’ll try t’nap later,” he shrugged as he continued reading the book in his hands without looking up.

She pressed a hand to his forehead. He wasn’t warm. He seemed fine. For a moment she gazed in his eyes and noted how green they looked. There was no denying Harry was beautiful—even though the constant fighting made her irritable with him. It was a face she fell in love with because he was so pretty. Soft skin, gentle smile, deep dimples. He was simply dreamy. Someone would have to be blind not to fall in love with him.

Part of her thought someone had fallen in love with him because of the way he looked so happy after the many months of the mutual feeling of misery that flooded their apartment. That simply wouldn’t do. 

It wouldn’t take much, she knew it. Harry was a romantic. A few gentle smiles, a bat of her eyelashes, and some light touches and Harry would be putty in her hands again.

His lips parted slightly like this was the first time he had seen her in ages. He didn’t know how to speak. It was so unlike her to worry about him even a little these days. In fact, it was so shocking, he thought he was transported to the laundry room and the gentle touch was coming from the girl that made his heart skip a beat and had the little voice in his head shouting to be heard.

“You don’t feel feverish or look very sick.”

Harry knew he wasn’t feverish. He knew he wasn’t sick either. Maybe lovesick. But that wasn’t something he could tell Ava.

Or maybe it should have been the exact time he told her.

“I can get you medicine if you want while I’m out,” she said softly.

“Oh...uh...thanks, love. That would be good, thank you,” the words felt weird in his mouth, he hadn’t thanked Ava for anything in ages. What was there to thank her for? Hours of worrying and fighting? “You’re going out?”

“Yeah...laundry at mom’s,” she reminded him.

“I could do your laundry y’know,” he offered quietly. He noted the way the slopes of Ava’s face curved so beautifully when she wasn’t scowling at him for the littlest of things. She was a beautiful girl. No question about it.

“I don’t like the way the washers make the clothes smell,” she said, wrinkling her nose in distaste.

It was as if a shadow cast over her at the very moment she spoke. A backhanded comment for sure—whether she meant it or not, knowing full-well that Harry washed all his clothes in the apartment washers. He rolled his eyes and sighed. “Right,” he murmured. “Well, tell her I said hello,” he returned to his book.

She nodded silently. 

Returning down the hall, Harry thought it was awfully mature of her to ignore the eyeroll. It was an instinct and he knew he shouldn’t have, but it was hard to feel—

“The eye roll was unnecessary.”

Here we go. “Ava, y’know I do m’laundry down there. Y’basically said I smell.”

She returned the very same eye roll dropping the laundry bag at her feet. “Harry, I didn’t say that.”

“Y’may as well have,” he grumbled.

“It’s too early to argue.”

“M-hmm.”

She would be better later. It would take a lot of active reminders to not fight with him. Sighing, she headed out the door.

For a fleeting moment, she was Ava, the girl he loved and had dated for so long. The little bit of kindness she showed didn’t deserve Harry’s infidelity. It was all his fault and Ava wasn’t that bad.

So, Harry made his way to the laundry room, knowing he would find her there because it was Saturday morning, and it was her favorite time to do laundry—before anyone else was there.

Except Harry. She seemed to make every exception for Harry.

He hoped she would make one this time too.

*

“Hey munchkin,” she smiled sweetly as Harry got down to the laundry room. He didn’t tell Ava. He knew he should have. Of course, he should have. But there was something about the sunshine that lived in the laundry room that made his brain short circuit. There was something in the air that made him lose all train of thought. All rationality escaped him when he thought about this girl obsessed with The Wizard of Oz.

But it was a mistake on his part. He didn’t tell Ava. Especially after her kindness this morning. The kind of kindness that made him love her—like when they first started dating. Why didn’t he go after her?

“I have t’tell y’something,” Harry said. He looked exhausted. His eyes were red rimmed. His face paled as he spoke.

She frowned. “Uh...okay?”

They weren’t a couple. They weren’t even...anything. Maybe she could say they were friends. Harry owed her no explanations for anything. Maybe kissing was a bad idea. It would ruin their friendship. Or maybe it was worse…

He closed his eyes. “I have t’jus’ say it, Sunshine. But y’have t’let me explain.”

She felt totally rattled. It was obviously a mistake. Completely. Thank God they didn’t have sex in her apartment. Thank God he asked about the picture frame; that they spent nearly an hour talking about music, books, and recipes.

Thank God, they stopped. It was so obvious he regretted it. Was she a bad kisser? Maybe she could convince Niall to help her out. Niall had a lot more practice than she did. No, there was no way Niall would help her with something like that. He would get all grossed out. He would probably lie and tease her and say she was a terrible kisser regardless. Or maybe he–

“I have a girlfriend,” he whispered.

The words hung in the air for a moment in suspended animation. It was like the clocks had stopped ticking, the world stopped turning, the washing machines stopped spinning.

If she was attached to a machine, her brain would show zero activity.

No.

She felt her stomach turn violently and felt her whole body tingle with heat. Part of her thought she was going to throw up.

No, no, no, the voice in her head shouted. No. He’s supposed to be mine!

But there was no reason for her to think like that. Harry wasn’t hers. This was just proof of what she already knew back when she felt that connection to him so instantaneously. She knew he was too good to be true. Her voice stopped working. She wanted to cry but she didn’t want to do that in front of Harry. If she was going to have a breakdown, she couldn’t do it here. She left all her stuff and bolted past Harry, taking the steps two at a time to get away from him without even a word.

He hurried after her. “Kitten,” he cooed gently. She shook her head and continued running for the elevator, grateful it was there, open, when she got there. She rapidly pressed the button to shut the door, but Harry had much longer legs and trapped himself inside the small space before it closed the pair of them in. She turned to the back of the lift and pressed her forehead to the cool metal. “Kitten,” he tried again.

“No,” she sniffled. “No, you can’t call me that.”

“Sunshine, y’supposed t’let me explain.”

“Explain what exactly, Harry?”

He grabbed her arm. Immediately, she yanked it away from him with a shake of her head. “No, you can’t touch me.”

He ran a hand over his face, and she exited quickly as soon as the door was barely open enough to fit her through the space. Naturally, he followed her. “Please let me explain.”

She wheeled around so quickly Harry nearly bumped into her. “Explain what?” She whispered. If there was any more volume in her voice, she would lose complete control. She would cry. She would sob. She would lose any sense of herself because even though she was mad at Harry and how she had foolishly kissed him without knowing she was ruining some poor girl’s relationship because of their kiss...

She was selfishly thinking about how unfair it was that she couldn’t have him.

“Love.”

“Harry. Stop calling me names.”

Closing his eyes, Harry thought he might explode. This was so unfair. He was breaking her heart. All he wanted was to hold it in his hands. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?!” She gasped. “I...I don’t...I don’t even know what to say to you,” the tears were about to spill over her lash line. She couldn’t hold the emotions she was feeling much longer.

He dropped his gaze to the floor. He didn’t want to watch her cry. It felt private. Plus, it made him feel guilty that he was the cause. “If it means...anything. M’relationship isn't...good a lot of the time.”

She glared at him and his horrible betrayal. Of her trust. Of her belief in him. In hurting her reputation. “That’s not a reas—”

He put his hands up defensively. “I know, love. I know. S’not an excuse. M’jus’ trying t’give y’details. M’sorry. S’my fault. All my fault,” he promised. Harry felt like he would start crying if she did. “S’nothing...you didn’t do anything wrong,” he promised her. It was a little comforting that he seemed to know what she was feeling and maybe part of her was grateful that he knew she would feel so down on herself about it. “I lead you on. I made the mistake.”

It felt like Harry had taken a steak knife and stabbed it right through her heart with the word mistake coming from his mouth. She thought he would say it when he first entered the laundry room. But it felt so much worse hearing it out loud. Knowing truly why it was a mistake.

“I don’t think we should be around each other… for a while.”

Harry deflated, his face paling. “Love,” he whispered. “I know I messed up...I know...that...” he rubbed his hand on the back of his head. “I want to be friends.”

She wanted that too. She wanted more than that. “Sometimes we don’t get what we want, Harry,” she whispered quietly. “I’m sorry too.”

He deserved this. He didn’t even want to hear the I told you so his conscience was probably singing and dancing in the back of his mind. If he could focus on anything other than the terribly sad girl, and how his heart was breaking at the thought of not chatting with her over laundry. This hurt worse than any fight he had with Ava by a long shot.

That seemed like damning proof more than anything.

“Okay,” he murmured taking in her expression one more time. He wished it was happy. Somehow, some way. He wished he hadn’t broken her heart like this—even if her heart wasn’t his to break. He didn’t want the last time he saw her for a while, was her feeling sad and upset. But it was his fault. Completely. There was no question about it. “M’sorry, love,” he whispered.

She nodded. “Me too, Harry.”

God, he wanted her to call him munchkin. He wanted it to be okay. More than okay. He wanted it to be...different. If only he hadn’t fought with Ava. He would have told her. Telling Ava first meant that she would have screamed and yelled and left.

Harry could rationally explain the situation to the girl before him. Explain that it was bad. He wouldn’t get tongue tied. He wouldn’t get his ideas mixed up. He wouldn’t mess this up as well the way he messed up everything else.

“See you around...I guess...” he mumbled and backed toward the elevator.

“Bye, Harry,” she whispered as the elevator slid close.

*

She had to get her laundry but the idea of going down to that room made her nauseous. Once alone in the comfort of her apartment, she released the sobs she didn’t want Harry to see. There were so many things she needed to think about; she needed a list. A list of things to do. She typed them into her phone.

- Laundry - Pay bills - File paperwork - Harry’s…

It hurt to think about the end of that little chore. Taking deep breaths she closed her eyes and ignored the feeling of more tears that she wanted to fall.

Of course, he had a girlfriend. He was gorgeous, funny, sweet…why would he be single?

As much as she hated herself for hurting his relationship with someone else, she couldn’t help but think about how he mentioned his relationship was bad. The thought made her…sad. She couldn’t help it. The idea that someone as sweet as Harry was in a bad relationship wasn’t…fair. In school, she did rounds of different counseling methods and practices to see which ones she liked best. If she didn’t have her current job, she would strongly consider relationship therapy of some kind. The complexity of staying in a relationship that didn’t make sense was hard to navigate for anyone. She couldn’t imagine the stress and anxiety that Harry was going through on his own. Part of her wanted to recommend a therapist for him despite how he had changed her heart in the last hour.

I wouldn’t let our relationship be bad. She thought to herself.

Shut up. She whispered to the voice that was getting independent thought.

This was horrible.

The thoughts rolled through her head so quickly, she didn’t know what to deal with first. Laundry usually calmed her mind but she thought if she went down there she might go crazy. It wouldn’t be calming knowing they kissed in the very spot they had chatted for the last few months while Harry knowingly had a girlfriend. While they shared secrets, banter, recipes, and all things that people who flirt share.

She hated him.

No you don’t. The voice in her head sounded like it was rolling it’s eyes if it were capable.

But I want to hate him. She responded.

You don’t want to hate him either, you idiot.

Fortunately her phone rang with Niall’s picture taking up her screen. Good. Niall would ground her, help her.

“Hey princess,” he said softly.

That didn’t sound good. With an even heavier heart she swiped the tears away from her eyes, took a deep breath and frowned. “Oh, Ni, what’s wrong?” She asked.

“I…” he sighed. “You know how I was helping with the new office for those two weeks?”

Her heart dropped. She already knew. Part of her wished she didn't even finish the conversation. She knew where it was going. Lay on the heartache. The theme for the day. “Yeah…”

“They…can’t find anyone competent to run it.”

She closed her eyes. She couldn’t tell Niall. Not now. He had his own stuff to deal with and adding to his stress was the last thing she wanted to do. “So you’re competent now?” She asked lightly.

He chuckled softly, grateful that she could make him feel better. “Feels like the worst thing, darling.”

“How long?” It was the most important question. How long would she be without her best friend? How long would they be thousands and thousands of miles and plane rides away from each other? How long would he be gone? How long would she have to hide the horrible thing she did? The horrible thing Harry did? Niall would threaten to kill him. For hurting her heart. She knew it in her bones.

The silence was deafening. He didn’t want to say it. It was going to kill her.

“Just say it, Ni.”

“A year,” he whispered quietly. “Longer if they can’t find someone.”

Fortunately, she was already so heartbroken it was easy to combine her sadness of Harry and Niall together without Niall suspecting a thing. There was so much devastation in her head and heart in such a short amount of time. “A year?” She whispered.

“I’m sorry, princess.”

“What about…the missus?”

She listened to Niall’s deep sigh. “I haven’t told her yet…she can work from anywhere…so I’m hopeful. I wanted to tell you first.”

Her heart fluttered with so much love for her best friend. He told her first. She couldn’t tell him about Harry or the kiss. He would worry and change his career all for her and that wasn’t fair.

She already hurt one relationship today. She wouldn’t hurt another.

She needed a trip to the Emerald City like never before. She had to be brave and strong for him. It felt like she needed courage and a brain for not seeing so many obvious signs before. “Now I know I have a heart…because it’s breaking,” she whispered, quoting the Tin Man. She was going to need a heart too.

He chuckled. “Well m’gonna call every day,” he promised.

She nodded. “You better,” she sniffled and giggled. “When do you leave?”

“Next week.”

She squeezed her eyes shut. This was a good distraction. At least for a little while. “Well, we better make the most of it,” she whispered.

“M’glad you have Harry,” he said. Like a knife to the chest. “You can’t replace me with him, though.”

“Never,” she promised. She had to tell him something. “I…actually have some news on that front,” she sniffed.

“Oh princess,” he said, hearing the crack in her voice. “What happened?”

“He has a girlfriend,” she croaked.

“Oh, darling,” he cooed.

“I knew it was too good to be true,” she shrugged.

“M’sorry, still. I was…I mean…I still think he’s your soulmate. What kind of person quotes The Wizard of Oz like a lunatic?”

She smiled through her tears and nodded. “Yeah…”

“Let me talk to the missus. We’ll do dinner, yeah?”

“Please.”

“See you later, princess.”

What a twister of a day.

-

general taglist: @justlemmeadoreyou @daydreamingofmatilda @sunshinemoonsposts @youdontcaredoyou @tiredinwinter @loving-hazz @likeapplejuicenpeach @straightontilmornin @freedomfireflies @littlenatilda @kathb59 @babegoals @angel-upon @lilfreakjez @mleestiles @ameliaalvarez06 @canyonmoondreams @summertime-pills @daphnesutton @l4rrysh0use @perfectywrong @foreverxholland @lolyouallsuck @buckybarnessimpp @stylesfever @harrysxcarolina @haarrrys @pandeebearstyles @st-ev-ie @lovrave

Love and Dryer Sheets: @love-letters-to-uranus

I'm sorry if I missed anyone in the taglist. Please let me know if you'd like to join, if it didn't work, if you no longer want to be included, etc. :)

If you like this, check out my masterlist for more of my writing.

[thatneoncrisis]

Why does every 20-something year old on the planet think they’re going to stand up for marginalised groups by being a dick on the internet to strangers they assumed to be something they’re not. All those authors you dislike, turns out they were just people, and some of them trans themselves too! What a shock! Maybe you could have gone about this a better way, but I suppose the option to be a cunt is a good one too. You’ve definitely improved the TLT fandom in a measurable way with this move. Which transfems are more important to you? The ones who like the fics you don’t, or the ones who like the fics you do? What about the ones that are writing the fics you don’t like?

Could have raised the issue in so many other ways, decided the way you were going to go was to be as incendiary as possible and now you’re surprised when its hurt people who are part of the same group you claim to be sticking up for? Maybe next time you’ve got a problem, you raise it more constructively, if you’re actually this invested in raising the point in a way that improves the situation for those you’re championing. As a multi-chapter satire fic would imply. Might have to do less damage control after that way at least.

alright. i mean again ive spent the last year writing content that i want to see, and i was only very recently made aware that some of the fics read as playing into transmisogyny are written by trans women, i understand that those authors are also just people who have no obligation to like what ive done or agree with it. im not surprised about whats happening stop saying im surprised or never expected this

but im trans. i have friends who are across the spectrum transfem or otherwise. i constantly see them raising this issue to be met with the "dont read and touch grass" excuse, because the idea something can be made for someones own comfort is met with other people outside of that bubble being really hurt by it. which is what is happening now. i resent the idea that a particular member of a marginalized group cannot make harmful content in relation to said group. i made it because i was fucking angry. i made it because it was easier and compiling every single instance of someone treating gideon like a fucking slobbering dog brainless piece of meat who cant function in the proximity of femme pussy. no group is more important than the other, but both deserve to talk about it. i wrote a story being big mad and now im getting feedback, that is literally all i wanted

i am officially sick of this "i expected more from you" ass tone, as if i didnt give this extensive thought and execute it anyway, for the large swaths of trans and fans of color who DO agree with me and DO have a problem with is. stop pretending like i am completely and utterly fucking incapable of recognizing the nuance of the situation, that i made something that was harsh because i was tired of seeing the same shit uncritically produced and read by people. i will never be able to stop anyone from writing what they want, so i wrote what i wanted, and ultimately im on the fence about its execution. i have just enough right to be upset as you do, and im sorry im not 30 years old and keeping my mouth shut, because lets not pretend there was any world where i could form a post articulate enough to keep people from interpreting it as "big dick bad and i hate fun" that maybe gets thirty notes

[jannythewriter-pt2]

Collage Feels Pt.2

Warning ⚠️ Suggestive themes

It was the night of the party and you were nervous ash to say the least. You thought too yourself “ik I wasn’t going to dress up tonight but fuck it let’s show off a little yk” so that’s what you did. The fit tonight was stunning, a black skims dress with a Cuban link chain and Black French tips and crock print nails, and not to mention you have nipple piercings. You looked in the mirror second guessing yourself but decided to get over it and try to have fun, plus how can you not have fun when DAT ASS PHAT 😫.

Mikasa had on a black mini skirt and a black tube top and she was SNATCHED. Y’all then made your way over to the frat house and went inside. You were met with different eyes from different people, after all your new here and you fine so. You then walk in the living room to see the same mf’s you saw in the lobby when you got here; Connie and his friends.

“Damn Mikasa who dis?” Connie said eying me from the other side of the room “Damn she fine, and that ass fat asf” he thought in his head. “This y/n, she’s new so don’t try to fuck her or imma kick all y’all’s head off” Mikasa said. You greeted everyone but kept eye contact with Connie “I like your tats, there fire asf” you said quietly “thank you ma” he said, this made you get nervous as hell, “I like you piercings” he said smirking, “oh, thank you” you say shyly. The party was commencing as usual when you got up to go and use the bathroom. On the way there you saw Mikasa and Eren go into a room and yk what was finna happen 😏.

“Y’all better be safe” you say with a smirk on your face. They look back at you and laugh. You then go back in the kitchen to grab a drink, then suddenly you saw Connie. “Hey ma, wyd” he said, “I’m thirty, iv just been sitting yk how it gets” you said nervously, he smiled at you and said “Yeah I get that, but aside from that are you new here cause I didn’t see you around last year” “Yeah I wasn’t here last year, I transferred cause my last collage was ghetto and I kinda wanted to leave that environment” you said opening up a little.

You and Connie talk for a little bit and you got the courage to ask for his number, and low and behold he gave it to you. “Hey maybe we could go get takeout sometime?” he asked a little hesitantly “Of course, I wouldn’t mind that at all” you said happily. “Maybe next week?” he asked “Of course Connie, whenever your free I’m there” this statement made Connie hot and bothered for some reason, from the way your voice sounded, to the way you looked, to the way you smelled, he wondered if you tasted as good as you looked………

It was the end of the party and you and had to take Mikasa home because that girl was slam drunk and she couldn’t walk properly (Eren gave her some of that good D 😫) and she sounded like she was speaking gibberish. You took her to your car, but there were people looking at you “Is that your car?!” Jean asked shocked, “Yeh this my whip, why?” you said confused “that bitch tuff” Connie said and everyone around agreed. “Thank you Constance” you said in a more hushed tone. You just said his first name, and he liked it…..more than he needed to.

It was in that very moment that he knew he needed to fuck you. He wanted to pin you down, ass up hearing you say his name just like that, over and over again. “Bye y’all I’ll see y’all around” you say, this snaps him out of his trance “bye ma” he said. Everyone else said their goodbyes, then you and Mikasa speed off. “You want to fuck her dont you” Eren said smirking “Nah I’m tryna wife her up, she’s beautiful….but them back shots would go crazy” Connie said smirking and dapping Eren up.

I have fed y’all for now 😮‍💨😫

[evermourning]

𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 - seo changbin

pairing: seo changbin x reader, lovertober entry iv

genre: fluff, comfort, slice of life, established relationship

wc: 4.7k

warnings: TOOTH ROTTING FLUFF., gender neutral pronouns used, hubby binnie, pet names (binnie, baby, honey, love), some sweet crack moments, dirty jokes (1), lots of kisses, language, non-sexual nudity, domestic binnie <3

a/n: this is my formal apology for second best. also, please don't diss my songwriting skills...i'm a writer, not a songwriter 😭😭 ^^

for many years, you had loved seo changbin.

it felt like from the moment you met him, he was destined to be the man slipping a beautiful ring onto your finger. he was so perfect to you, and you were excited to spend the rest of your life with him.

you had been married four seasons, and each one was better than the last. god, you loved him. you loved him because with his arrival in your once dreary and bleak life, he brought a gust of fresh air, filled to the brim with complete adoration for you.

in the winter, snowflakes danced in their descent towards the earth, painting your windowpane with a layer of frost. however, inside was quite the opposite. changbin had made the fire, crackling and bright as it emanated warmth and adding a cozy ambience to the living room.

just nearby, a grandiose evergreen tree adorned with glittering ornaments stood alone, early christmas presents littering its skirt. you sat on the couch alongside your husband (god, it felt like the butterflies in your stomach were taking flight just thinking that he was yours now), the two of you wrapped in a blanket, boasting warm, steaming mugs of hot chocolate. changbin had just taken a large sip of it, resulting in a sweet mustache above his lip.

"baby, i didn't know you've been growing a mustache." you giggled. when he heard you, he gingerly placed a finger to his lip.

"oh." he wiped it off, his cheeks pink. you frowned at his flustered reaction.

"don't be embarrassed, binnie. you looked so cute, i was melting."

"so is your whipped cream. if you keep yapping, it'll sink into the chocolate and then it won't be worth it. at least let me have some." when you obliged, handing him your mug, he took the spoon from his, scooping up a big, kinda soggy marshmallow. "say ahh!"

you laughed, opening your mouth so he could slip the spoon in between your lips. you licked them afterwards, and changbin leaned more into you.

"this sucks. i'm so hungry, still." he whined, and you laughed, snuggling into him more.

"we should make christmas cookies, then." you suggested, and his beautiful brown eyes lit up. but then they dimmed as he thought for a second.

"but it's 8pm."

"and?" you asked, trying to get up so you could make your way to the kitchen but he pulled you back down, an arm wrapped around your waist. "c'mon, let's have a little fun. get in the christmas spirit!

changbin had so many excuses piled up. he was tired, he had practice the next day, it was getting late and the sugar would keep him up. but the moment he saw the excitement on your beautiful face all of his worries melted away. he stood up with you, the blanket still hanging on his shoulders.

"let's go. we have cookies to bake, don't we?"

you sat on the kitchen counter, swinging your legs as changbin was grabbing all the ingredients.

"get down from there, please. we can't cook this if your butt is all over the counter." like a gentleman, he extended a hand to help you down, and you jokingly swatted it away.

"you love my butt."

"i do."

"this got kinda weird." you got down, opening various cupboards to grab bowls and utensils. you then turned on some christmas music, adding to the atmosphere. "you ready?"

the next thirty minutes or so, you spent carefully mixing ingredients together to create you and changbin's masterpiece. as you mixed the wet and dry mixtures together with your spoon, changbin's steady hands kept the bowl in place.

"easy now. you want it to be put-together, but not clumpy. you can't under-mix it or over-mix it, because both of those won't end well, okay?" his tone was gentle, and he didn't seem like he was chiding you or being bossy, he was explaining it to you and letting you take the lead, knowing if you felt lost he was right there beside you. you watched him expertly roll out the dough as you piled up the holiday cookie cutters. after that, they were slipped into the oven, ready to cook to warm, golden-brown perfection so that you could ice them.

a few minutes after changbin set the timer, your shuffled christmas playlist reached the long-awaited moment. the sound of melodious bell chimes signaled the fated song, and changbin gave you a devious smile.

"i hope you're ready, because i'm so ready." you laughed out loud at his words as he flipped his wooden spoon around to use as a makeshift microphone. as mariah carey began to sing, he did too.

"i don't want a lot for christmas, there is just one thing i need...." he spun around, reaching out the "microphone" to you so you could continue.

"i don't care about the presents underneath the christmas tree..." you sang, matching his enthusiasm. changbin gave you a wide grin before grabbing your hand and twirling around a few times.

after your karaoke session came to an end, you were panting, your throat nearly hurt from the loud singing. you leaned against the doorframe as changbin ran a hand through his curly black hair.

"guess what?" he said, smiling as he pointed up. hung from the top of the doorframe was a few leaves of mistletoe, placed not-so-discreetly. the timing was impeccable, as nat king cole's beautiful rendition of "the christmas song" began to play. one hand went to your soft cheek and the other went to your hip.

the way your lips met his in a soft and sweet kiss felt almost natural. as if they were always destined to connect to yours, again and again. you wished to have this feeling, of the emotions pulsing through both of you creating something magical, seared into your temporal lobe. this was the man you were going to spend the rest of your life with! you felt giddy at the very idea of it. all your wishes had come true. you were with the love of your life, in this hub of joy and warmth, protected from the cold. safe and sound.

two months passed and it was valentine's day. love was in the air, and it was no different between you and your husband. every single part of the week leading up to it involved little gifts and sweet acts of service from your lover.

february 13th was not a good day for you. it had been relatively unlucky, and nothing seemed to go your way. you trudged home, shutting the door and flopping onto your shared bed. changbin was still at practice, so you had time to let out all your emotions.

after twenty minutes or so, you heard the front door open, a soft and loving voice carrying throughout the house.

"honey, are you home?" changbin asked, and you heard the soft thump of him setting his things down. you didn't want to worry him, so you responded.

"yeah, i'm in here." you replied rather weakly, and changbin noticed the discomfort in your voice almost immediately. he opened the door gently, not wanting to startle you. when he saw you laying down, misery tainting your features, he sat down beside you, pulling you into a soft hug.

the feeling of his arms around you was your breaking point. your walls collapsed just as easy as they had been built. you sobbed into changbin's shoulder the words just tumbling out of your mouth. you told him everything that went wrong and everything you felt - from the irritation and disappointment to the shame and fear, and he listened, a soft look of concern on his face.

"shh, don't cry." he murmured, wiping your tears away. "i'm sorry that you had a bad day. we all have them, there's nothing to be ashamed of. but don't worry, because you have me! your very own binnie who will fight off all the shitty days for you." you laughed softly at his words, and he gave you a dazzling smile when he heard your melodious laugh. "thank you, for telling me. we're married now, and your business is mine. if you're happy, i'm happy. if you're sad, i'm sad. if you're in the mood to kill someone, i'll probably try in convince you not to do it. but long story short, you deserve the world. the earth is blessed that you walk upon it. the waters are blessed to have touched your lips. the sky brags whenever you gaze up at it. you deserve the word, love, and i will gladly gift it to you."

when you leaned into his touch, whispering soft murmurs of "i love you" again and again, he chuckled softly, pressing an affectionate kiss to your forehead.

"you had such a rough day, baby. let's go take a bath, shall we? i'll go get it set up." he pulled away gently, waiting a second or two to make sure you didn't want him to stay. he went to the bathroom and got to work.

when he finished, he took your hand and led you in. the lights had been dimmed, most of the light emanating from red scented candles. an array of products were lined up neatly, and the water obviously had a bath bomb in it.

"here, allow me." changbin said, helping you undress. he neatly folded up your clothes and placed them on the kitchen counter. then, he gingerly unbuttoned his clothes and put them aside, too.

you sat with him in the warmth of the bath, his skin flush against yours. he rubbed your back, peppering your shoulder with soft and sweet kisses. nothing about this was sensual of any means. after the day you had endured, you were honestly relieved that energy had not been brought to this situation. this was simply your husband showing his overflowing devotion to you.

your eyelids fluttered shut as he washed your hair for you, carefully and expertly. he knew exactly what to do to give you the best results, as you'd taught him well. soft, soothing music drowned out the thoughts in your head, as did the comfortable silence with changbin.

after you had both dried off and gotten into your nightclothes, you climbed into bed, finding yourself immediately in changbin's warm arms, the place in this world where you felt truly at ease. he kissed you before dozing off. his final words, whispered softly into your waiting ear, were "tomorrow is another day."

and it was.

the next day, you found your home adorned with rose petals and your favorite foods and treats. seo changbin really was the match that kept your eternal flame going.

in the spring, the weather was lovely. flowers shot from the once frozen grown, basking in the sun's glory. cherry blossom petals floated down in a graceful dance from the trees. however, you were inside, curled up on a black leather couch, zoned out. from where you could see, changbin and the other members of 3racha were hard at work writing and composing a new song. eventually, you couldn't keep your eyelids from drooping shut, and you slumped over on the couch, sound asleep.

meanwhile, changbin was having a not-so-successful brainstorming session.

"i want to surprise yn, you know...they've been nothing short of lovely to me. and we can release it on the new album if it matches the concept, but if it doesn't, it'll be our song. private and for their ears only." he rambled. "but there's so much i want to express, and i can't pack it all in, or it'll end up being longer than twenty-four hours. ugh!"

jisung gave him a reassuring pat on the back.

"well...what are the things you want to tell them the most? there's got to be some division." changbin thought long and hard at jisung's words. he had such lovely memories with you, which were making it so fucking hard to choose just one.

"well...i love the idea of them growing old with me. it's something i've been dreaming about since we started dating." he finally said, a tad sheepish. "is that too cheesy?"

"not at all!" chan responded quickly. "that is one of the most beautiful things about love, i think. the daydreaming, the wishes...you're truly a romantic, changbin. and i love that being married has brought out this side of you."

"i think the poets might disagree. i can't even begin to elaborate on the vast complexity of my emotions, and they can do it in a flash." changbin mumbled. "i have all these feelings, and i hope i'm doing my best to make every day for them perfect. marriage is a commitment, and god, i'm fucking committed. i want to feel their hands in mine as we sit together under the sun in matching rocking chairs, our fingers wrinkled and knobby. because to me, they will be just as beautiful as they were when we were young."

chan and jisung stared at changbin, turned their heads to stare at each other, and burst out laughing.

"dude, do you hear yourself?" jisung asked in between giggles. "you're literally contradicting yourself as we speak. you just professed your love in the most beautiful way. i wish i could even begin to express that much powerful emotion, god."

"jisung, didn't you write volcano...and miserable...and alien?" chan implored, raising an eyebrow. jisung's cheeks turned an embarrassed rosy red, and he turned away, flustered.

"i guess...but that's not the point! what's really the point is that changbin needs to get his act together and write this song! no matter what you do, they're going to love it."

changbin let his emotions overtake him, and he wrote. he wrote so quickly and beautifully, every lyric laced with devotion and care. jisung and chan added their two cents now and then, but they let him take the lead. you were his muse, an alluring, angelic voice whispering sweet nothings in his ears, gifting him the motivation and inspiration he needed. when he finished his masterpiece, he stared at the lyrics. what if you didn't like them?

a voice sounded from behind him, drowsy and soft.

"honey, are you almost done?" you asked, and jisung and chan gave changbin a teasing smile before leaving the room, making some excuse that they were taking a conjoined bathroom break. changbin smiled at your ethereal face, still sleepy.

"i finished, yeah. want to hear the song?" he asked, as you got up from your resting place, sitting down beside him in jisung's now-empty chair. you nodded excitedly, and he took a deep breath, pressing play on the instrumental.

an upbeat melody sporting electric piano and drums began to play, working perfectly together. it sounded so sweet and so fun, like the inner melody that changbin kept hidden behind this rough exterior as a performer. and then he began to sing.

you'd heard him sing time and time again. but nothing compared to this moment. the raw emotion in his voice was singlehandedly the most beautiful thing you'd heard in a while. you felt tears prick your widened eyes when you realized the lyrics were about you.

"you've made this house a home."

"i was never a dreamer, until i met you."

the final lyric, "let's not make this too complicated, love me right now." signaled the end of the song. you stared at him, and abruptly burst into tears.

"please never stop writing songs about love, baby. your view of it is so refreshing and beautiful."

changbin's song, titled hands in mine, topped the charts.

this did not last. because now, changbin was sick. he'd been traveling and caught something he didn't even realize he had. this hit him hard, and he was now moping in bed, sniffles escaping his runny nose.

you were now determined to nurse him back to help, to the best of your abilities. you took a few days off of work so you could be by his side. carefully balancing a bowl of soup, you knocked on the door.

"can i come in?" he was silent, and you took that as a yes. you slid th door open, weaving through the room to sit beside him. he was sound asleep, the soft rise and fall of his chest imminent. you laughed quietly. the sound woke him up, as he blinked, eyes bleary with sleep, looking at you with a small pout.

"you...woke me up." he whined, and you pushed a few locks of curly black hair away from his forehead, placing the back of your hand there instead. he still had a pretty bad fever.

"you poor thing." you cooed, combing his hair with your hands. "you're burning up." when you gently pressed a damp towel to his forehead, he sighed at the contact.

"i can help myself, you know. you don't need to miss work for me." he said quietly, cheeks a deep red. when he attempted to grab the towel from your hands, you quickly moved it out of reach, resulting in changbin letting out a pitiful sound. "please. i can take care of myself and i'll be back in shape in no time. i've missed too many workouts!"

you shook your head.

"seo changbin, look at me. you have broken your back time and time again caring for me when nobody else had the energy to. i am not going to let you sit here and waste away in your sickness just because you have much too big of an ego to let me show you love you deserve. okay?" he was silent for a while, which implied his white flag of surrender. as he lifted the spoon to his mouth to consume your soup, you noticed his hand was shaking. you gave him a hug after he set it down, pressing your lips to his burning cheek.

"hey! i'm gonna get you sick." he tried to pull you off him, but you held on, until he relaxed, slumping back onto the bed. his head rested on your chest, and he sighed. "you're too good to me. i love you to the moon and back. as long as i am breathing and my heart is pumping blood, you will be the only person in my eyes. i intend you to be my last." and then he promptly fell asleep. leaving you dumbfounded.

so you held him tighter, until you drifted off into a dream-filled sleep. dreams of the eternity you were ready to spend with changbin.

summer arrived with a splash, literally. the sun was high, its rays beating down on you as you sat in a lounge chair in your swimsuit, tanning and reading a book your friend recommended to you. in the pool nearby, changbin rested his forearms against the tile, treading water as he looked up at you with a grin.

vacationing with him was always so fun.

"you look so good right now. the sun is kissing your skin when i wish i could." he giggled softly, and you smiled at his words. you were content sipping a cold drink as he swam, the blue water complimenting his tanned skin. and god, his arms looked really nice.

you had been with him for so long that busy schedules felt natural. you were used to long distance, long late night calls where you were practically begging him to get sleep, but he refused and regretted it horribly in the morning, airport arrivals and departures, all of that. it was nearly surreal that your husband was here and tangible.

"baby, come here real quick. i have to tell you something." changbin said suddenly, his mood changing. worry clouded your brain as you rushed over, crouching down beside him.

"is everything okay?" you asked him softly, and he flashed you that sneaky smile you knew all too well.

"better than okay."

and then he grabbed your hand, pulling you into the pool. you were met with the cool water soaking you from head to toe, before strong hands grabbed your waist, allowing you to pull your head up. changbin was laughing his ass off, and you splashed him rather harshly as a response.

"oh, i got you there! you looked so worried, babe, you were all like - 'oh no i hope my hubby is okay!' not even suspecting i'd toss you in. this is the fifth time you've fallen for this in all our time together, i'm disappointed." you sighed, theatrically massaging your temples to seem annoyed.

"y'know, this is why you're so short, binnie. if i can't trust you to not betray me like that, then how can the height gods?"

"hey!" he pouted, picking you up like you were light as a feather. the water probably helped. "you love me and all my inches."

you raised an eyebrow at his comment.

"and which inches are we implying here?" changbin's cheeks turned beet red as he doused you in a downpour of water.

"i didn't mean it like that, you perv!" he whined. you giggled, swimming over to him to rest a hand on his muscular forearm.

"i know, i know. want to dry off and walk along the beach?" you asked invitingly. he acted as if he even had to think about it, before clasping your hand in his and leading you out of the water. he grabbed two fluffy towels, handing one to you so you could dry off. after the sun aided you in this endeavor, you made your way to the beach.

the sun was beginning to set, painting the sky the colors of a beautiful fire as you walked, one foot after the other, hand-in-hand with changbin. the grains of sand felt soft against your bare feet, and the wind was blowing perfectly. pairing this with a cooler temperature now that nightfall was nearly upon you resulted in a perfect day.

you swung your entangled hands as you walked, pointing out various seashells and marine life. you just felt so overpowered with joy.

"can you believe it? we've been married for over half a year." you commented, eliciting a gasp from changbin. instead of responding with some loving comment that would make you all flustered and even more in love with him, he burst into song.

specifically, omg by newjeans. never a second of rest with this man.

on the eleventh day of august, changbin was awoken with a bone-crushing hug from you. you were excited and smiling, gushing until he groaned, sitting up to face you. your hands went to his cheeks, and you smiled wider than ever.

"happy birthday!" his face lit up at your words. he hugged you laughing, wrapping his arms around you. every birthday was another year lost to time, but he was happy that these years would now be spent time and time again by your side.

he watched you carefully make him a delicious breakfast with his favorite food. there were all different ingredients cooking and being mixed at once, and changbin basked in the sweetness that was your determination to make the perfect day for him. when you finished, you sat down with him, and he began eating, exclaiming in delight at the taste and complimenting you non-stop.

"what do you want to do today? it is your special day, after all. we can do whatever you want. this needs to be a day you'll love." you said, smiling as you took a bite of breakfast. changbin was silent for a bit, probably planning out a sudden itinerary for the day. you knew he was up to something the minute he gave you that damn look.

you were wearing gym clothes. this was his master plan, wasn't it? he was going to make you work out with him. you knew about your husband's love for exercise, but if you weren't feeling up to it, he wouldn't try and force it onto you. but today, on his special day, you essentially had no choice. however, it was lucky for you - you had a trained professional as your workout partner as opposed to someone who knew absolutely nothing.

it wasn't easy, but changbin was by your side every moment of the intense workout. some machines were easier for you to comprehend and then use than others, but at the end of the day, you much preferred watching changbin work out over anything.

the sheer focus when he exercised was something you'd really only seen when he was performing. you wished you had something even close to the level of perseverance that he boasted. finally, your sweaty husband completed his workout. in the car ride home, his hand never left yours, rubbing circles into your soft palm.

the rest of the day was simply lovely. you just spent it with changbin, not doing anything in particular but enjoying each other's presence. whenever he was around you, he seemed to have this radiance that came and went. it was a ray of calming sunshine that made you feel immensely better. whatever came at you, you'd face it together.

that night, when you sang happy birthday to changbin, as he was surrounded by his closest family and friends, he gave you a beautiful smile before blowing out his candles. he felt like was on top of the world, seeing your beauty as you held a cake you baked personally for him. he prayed this would be how all his birthdays were.

when the vibrant green hues of the trees faded to warm reds and oranges, mixed in with the occasional yellows and browns, you knew almost instantly that fall had arrived in all its glory. with fall came the autumn holidays, times of joy as the weather progressively became colder and colder, until the cycle of the seasons would repeat again.

the first of these important holidays was halloween. the weather was chilly in the mornings and night, something you honestly couldn't stand. you were curled up on the couch with changbin, a bowl of candy between you two as you watched some new horror movie. if you were being completely honest, it was scaring you, but you didn't want to admit that to changbin, who was frankly quite invested in the movie's plot.

"look at this dumbass, babe. he had two choices on places to hide. he could've hidden anywhere where the killer wasn't...the guy is literally taking out students at the university, if he just, i don't know, ran away, he'd be safe? but no...he had to hide in his girlfriend's dorm room. so stupid." changbin huffed, and you facepalmed. "mark my words, he's going to die before the end."

his incessant rambling was helping take your mind off the jumpscares, but you'd still visibly flinch if you weren't expecting one. you'd react by hiding your face in the crook of his neck. this was something that made changbin laugh loudly. however, he wasn't condescending about it or anything, which made you very comfortable. one of the many, many, many things about changbin that you loved was the harmony and tranquility he brought to your life.

you had loved seo changbin through the freezing cold and the burning heat, through the wilting and blooming of the flowers, through days and nights alike. and you had absolutely no intention to ever stop.

taglist: @darkypooo , @hyunbae-35 , @backintomykpopphaseagain , @stateofdelicategrace , @elizaschuyler18 , @lillithathecat , @imastraykidsfan , @nightimescapes , @mal-lunar-28

@evermourning, ©2023, all rights reserved.

[majesticwren]

here we go with part III. It's 12k of unhinged feral energy; be advised, this entire project is done solely for my pleasure, I am indulging myself so much with this. I just needed to write will and fletch and had to create this stuff. the angst that it carries (because yes there will be more coming - I am very good very evil) it's the energy I crave please don't come for me and trust the process I'll feed you smut. I am planning shit loads of fluff too but it will be a rollercoaster overall. it is edited but not proofread. enjoy. a/n: hi :) me again back at it. I didn't like the first draft of this so I finally went back in and made it a little extra poly/gay with some more chemistry between kyle and will because I needed it. thank you bye 💕

trigger warning/s: angst angst angst, poly relationship dynamics, reference to sex, reference to threesome, shit loads of misunderstandings and miscommunication, swearing, jealousy and mild possessiveness, OFC is unhinged and is her own trigger warning - she can't deal with her healthy relationship and leaps into self destruction, smut!, threesome, unprotected sex (kids, know your sexed! this is not an example is a fanfic use your condoms) daddy and praise kinks, chocking, dirty talk, binding, kyle is very dom and will likes to be called daddy but he is also a sub in here, don't come for me

<- part I | <- Part II prequel part I -> | part II -> | part III -> | part IV -> Masterlist

The party was proceeding. She couldn’t say it was going well, but it was going. The two-dozen people they invited were enjoying themselves at least. They were mostly Mark’s friends, which included old colleagues from RevPro and a few other people they got to know in the years they lived in the city, plus a handful of Erika and Kyle’s friends, just for variety. Food and drinks served. Music and chattering filled the room as people gathered and mingled. On the surface, everything seemed good. 

It did feel like the longest time of her life though.

When Kyle and Mark arrived, she felt able to breathe for the first time. Grateful, mostly for the unaware support their arrival granted her, Erika leaped into her brother’s arms, clinging onto his solar, happy energy and protection to feel shielded.

Everything was fine, she kept reminding herself.

“I am so happy to see you,” she whispered into Mark’s ear as he lifted her up, bear hugging her. 

“I missed you too, little menace,” he chuckled. “Let me look at ya’,” Mark handled her like she weighed nothing, lifting her so he could look at her face, “Yep, still the same little gremlin.”

Erika hugged him some more, finding refuge into his chest. “You gotta tell me all about the news from back home,”

“Ah, you know, always the usual. Mum misses you so much, she cried a lot. It’s kinda hard to watch sometimes. Dad on the other side is unaware as usual. He has finished building the shed though!”

“Are you joking!? You mean the shed?” 

Mark nodded as a massive smile nested on his lips. “Oh, yes, baby. Fucking mental.”

“I knew early retirement would have done him good!”

“God,” Mark chuckled, “Brace yourself because now he needs a new project.”

“Oh, god,” she chuckled with him. 

Erika knew seeing Mark was everything she needed to feel better. Saying she had missed him wasn’t enough. She could already feel herself healing inside. Her pain wasn’t disappearing, but there was a light that was shining in her now. Mark was always able to pick her up in a way not even Kyle could. Her brother had always been her biggest support system and best friend. But he was more than that. He saw her growing up. Helped her through her lowest and loved her regardless, even when others had given up on her. He was the part of her family she couldn’t bear to live apart.

“Listen, listen, I’ve got a good one for you.” Continued Mark, excitement glimmering through his eyes. He was clearly equally happy to see her. “Auntie Janice has a thirty-two-year boyfriend. Which is weird. I’ve met him. Nice bloke. But he’s basically my age so, weird.”

“Ugh,” she shivered, trying to shake off the repulsive thought of her aunt in a relationship with a guy half her age. “She is mental.”

“Firecracker,” Mark chuckled, “Oh and Virna got married.”

“Virna? Your high school sweetheart and my babysitter Virna?”

“Yes.”

“The crazy Virna that still tries to hook up with you any time you are back home?”

“That’s the one!”

“Did you go break her heart?” Erika wondered pocking his cheek only causing Mark to melt in a loud burst of laughter.

“Of course I did, gotta keep up our family tradition of stealing hearts. Fucked her and then her husband-to-be,” Mark smiled all proud and unashamed, only causing her to shake her head.

“And you call me a menace, Mr?”

Mark was still laughing wholeheartedly as he put her down, to which point it was Kyle’s turn to pull her into a hug she didn’t refuse. She nuzzled into his chest, magnetically attracted to him. Erika inhaled his scent deep into her lungs, wishing she could travel in the future, to when everyone would be gone and she could find soothe in his arms.

“I am sorry for before,” he whispered to her ear before kissing her forehead. 

Erika shook her head sliding her arms around his waist, looking for contact in a way that was more than habit, by now. It was natural. “Don’t be. I am sorry.”

Kyle looked down into her eyes, cupping her face into his palms. His touch was soft and warm. He didn’t only pick up her gaze, but her entire spirit too. He studied her features with a gentle smile curling his full lips, “I love you.” He reminded her, “and you look beautiful,”

“Thank you, you are not bad either” she melted into a smile looking him up and down, “I love you too.” She then said, popping up on her tippytoes to kiss him.

“Everything ok?” He wondered after, checking the place out.

Erika nodded, lying, pushing all that had happened in the back of her mind. “Yes. Why wouldn’t it be?”

Kyle answered looking for Will, who was taking his time to welcome Mark with a big hug and heavy pats on the back. “Welcome home, bruv. ‘Was starting missing you ‘round here.”

“I’m so back, mate. How the hell are you?”

Erika did her best to ignore their conversation. It was so difficult for her to hate Will when he was so affectionate with her brother. Or with Kyle.

After that, Erika spent most of her time hanging around Mark but would leave anytime Will approached them, granting him the chance to spend time with his best friend. She did the same thing when it was about Kyle, leaving him to have some fun with Mark and Will and just mingling with the rest of their friends. 

But she should have assumed she wouldn’t have been allowed to hide for long.

“What’s happening between you and Will?” Wondered suddenly Mark as she went for a refill on her wine. Surprisingly, she hadn’t given into the booze. But she did sip on some wine to grant her some liquid courage to survive the evening.

Erika choked and cleared her voice, looking up at her brother. “What do you mean?” She tried to play coy, smiling at the catering attendant who served her.

Mark read right through her pretending and whipped a wise smile, taking the piss out of her. “What would I ever mean!?” He wondered jokingly, “Do you think I was born yesterday, little one?”

Erika huffed and, taking a sip of her wine, she looked through the room, directly searching for Will. He was chatting to Kyle and a couple of her friends about something. They laughed. Will grabbed Kyle by the nape of the neck and pulled him under his arm, showing him off. They both had such a big smile printed on their faces, glimmering eyes and blushed cheeks. Her heart skipped a beat.

It was so unfair.

I wish l never met you.

Her own terrible words echoed into her mind, making her cringe to the thought of what their reality had become.

She was the extra piece. She was the sore, exposed nerve that didn’t work. Will had no problem with either Kyle or Mark and if she dared to explain what was happening between them, she was terrified of the consequences for the trio.

“Nothing.” She looked back, shrugging, “We just didn’t see eye to eye on something.”

“And for that reason, you aren’t talking or sharing the same square meter of space?”

“Yep.”

Mark lowered himself to her heigh and studied her features closely. “Nah. Don’t believe you. What did you disagree about?”

“The canapés.” She lied, pulling a kiss-ass smile. Mark read right through her, might as well not even try to make up a good lie. 

“Fuck off,” he chuckled, “I don’t believe you for a second.”

Erika pointed at herself and her big glass of white wine. “Do I look like someone who wants to talk about the only person I am avoiding at the party?”

“Oh, so you are avoiding him,” Mark looked back at Will, this time his curiosity was undeniable, whereas, for her, she had nothing but melancholy when she looked at him. 

This time, as if she had called him, Will was looking in their direction. They made eye contact. Erika didn’t look back, she challenged him raising her chin. He was going to be the one looking down if he so despised her. Though Will didn’t. 

Mark replied with something else but she wasn’t listening anymore.

Time slowed down while she was hooked on Will’s gaze and wasn’t able to let go. For only a moment, she thought she had seen the spark of interest in his eyes. But she was sure she was imagining things; it was gone in a heartbeat. Still, he didn’t look away either.

He smiled at one of the two girls. She had her hand on his bicep and was laughing at something he had said. Will leaned in, saying something into her ear. His gaze didn’t move from Erika's.

She had never been the jealous type. Never once in her life. But she was now. 

“That sure looks like nothing, dude,” Mark poked her, thought this time he wasn’t amused but puzzled. Erika quickly looked back up at him but he was busy scrutinising Will’s behaviour. “What’s going on, Erika?”

“Everyone’s favourite question,” she smiled sarcastically behind the rim of her glass, taking a sip of wine. “We argued. End of story. Let it go Mark.”

She should have known Mark wouldn’t have let it go, for the life of her. He was only able to fix things. Especially when it involved her. He was the protector, and knowing something was wrong wasn’t something he could ignore, ever. But he at least accepted her request momentarily. 

“Wanna do shots and then dig into those mini sausage rolls?” He offered instead. 

“Hell yeah, let’s see if I can still beat you at not making faces as I down straight vodka.”

“You are on, I’ve trained for this moment,” Mark rubbed his hands together.

“C’mon old man,” she giggled.

It was nice. Pleasant. For a little while, she allowed herself to celebrate her brother without thinking about the rest. 

They took two shots of vodka each and then proceeded to down countless tiny sausage rolls each, all the while Mark was ready to fill her up with stories from home. 

Maybe, if the evening had continued that way, she thought she’d be able to make it, after all. Sounded nice. Not the win she wanted but a win all the same.

“You should really consider popping back home as soon as your schedule clears,”

“I wish,” she huffed, “I’ve got back-to-back events from now to September with AEW, RevPro and Japan. Summer season is always busy.”

“Ok,” Mark nodded, “you do not have to take a month's break like I did. Japan is an awful close home if you want to pop down for a couple of days. Everyone would love to see you.”

She felt slightly uncomfortable with the idea. She loved her family, there were many reasons why she was grateful to them. But she was also a very different person now from the girl she was at nineteen when she left Australia. She didn’t like going back because it often reminded her about all the wrong she had done and everything she had messed up and missed because she was a difficult teenager.

Just like he could read her mind, Mark patted her back affectionately, “I know, I am sorry. I had to say it. Mum would love to see you.”

“I know, I know. It’s just I don’t know how to carry myself with pride around there. Here or while I work it’s different. But back home?”

“Back home you are one of the most famous people they’d know! Your name has been published, and the pictures you take are in magazines and on many companies’ socials and promos. There’s nothing you need to be ashamed of anymore.”

“Ah, on that I disagree.” Erika leaned her head on Mark’s shoulder, releasing a small huff, “But you are right. Maybe as soon as Kyle can take a couple of days off too.”

“Sure you want to bring him home with you?”

“Yeah? Why?” She suspiciously looked up at her brother, “They’ve known and loved Kyle for ages! What do you know I don’t?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he tapped his fingers on his chin. “Although mum wants grandchildren so expect the conversation from her.”

Erika chuckled and threw a soft punch at his shoulder, shaking her head. “You are unbelievable! Why do I have to have this conversation? I’m only a little girl! Look at you, thirty-two, strong, handsome famous and still a scoundrel.”

“Which is why the pressure is on you. You and Kyle have been together what? Five years now?”

“And we love our childless life, thank you.”

Mark raised his hands in the air, trying his best to appear as innocent as possible. “Hey, I am just the messenger. Talk to your mother. When she started this conversation with me, I yanked out of that place as fast as I could.”

“Fuck me,” she chuckled, pinching the bridge of her nose, “that woman never changes.” 

She hadn’t felt as light-hearted in a long time. Mark brought peace to her even then when she thought she was going to drown. Which was the main reason why, when they got interrupted, she wasn’t all that happy. She wished she could have just spent the rest of the event chatting with her brother, but she was aware that it would have been selfish and defeated the purpose of a social event.

Erika had felt her friend’s attention even before she said anything to her and immediately turned to her, pushing out a forced smile. The fact that she was the one who was standing a little too close to Will some time ago didn’t have anything to do with her sudden change of mood, of course.

“Hey bestie,” Beth’s smile was wide and full of promises and expectations. Her cheeks were blushed, she looked like she just come from a day at the beach. She was a pretty girl, talented too, they had met at the gym some months ago and took the habit of going out for a meal every now and then when Erika was back in London. Erika had always liked her enough, up to that very moment. “Hey Mark,” Beth chirped, “good to see you, how was Australia?”

“Good, thank you, but I am glad to be back.” Mark’s attention slid back on Erika, “I’ll leave you to it,” he said leaning to kiss her forehead fondly, “Just see not to cause trouble.”

“I’ll do my best,” when he slipped away, Erika turned to Beth doing everything in her power to appear as friendly as possible. 

She wasn’t even mad at her. She couldn’t be. She understood. Will attracted people, he had a talent like that, once you were in his orbit you couldn’t get out, he was a true star. If anything, she was even more upset at him because he had so much power over her to make her childish and jealous.

“Hey,” Erika pushed her thought in the back of her mind, “you ok?”

“Yes, thank you. Just wanted to say this is such a nice party, you always manage to get the best atmosphere!”

“Thanks, I think the people we invite are the ones who are the best at that,” 

“Amen,” Beth chuckled. “So, uh, this is a little embarrassing but I have a very quick question for you.”

“Shoot,” Erika nodded. 

“So, you know how I just recently got back being single, yeah?” Erika was already rolling her eyes before Beth could finish her sentence. “And I mean, he looks like a very good saddle to hop back on,” Beth giggled, looking back at Will. 

Erika bit her tongue.

She didn’t want to be mean. She had no right to be. Not one bit. But at the same time, there was a prime need taking over her that made her wish she could tackle the girl and slam her right through the little coffee table by their side. But then again, Erika put herself back into perspective and found herself being more aggressively angry at Will than anything else. He had no right to destabilising her that much and then just leave here there able to do nothing but just look at him from afar. 

It wasn’t Beth's fault, again, she understood. She was the first who fell into Will’s charm. And still, even when she had all the tools to make the right, thought-through decision, Erika still opted for confrontation. 

“So?”

“Well, he’s your friend, right?”

“He is. And if you expect me to put a good word in for you, you are a bit out of the way after you called him a saddle to ride.” 

Beth frowned, “I was obviously joking.” Erika knew that was bullshit. Beth paused and took a sip of her wine, immediately forgetting any reason to possibly be upset, “Anyways, is he single?”

Even though she didn’t want to, Erika felt obliged to tell the truth. She had no right even thinking she could do otherwise. “Yes.”

Beth purred, “Great,” 

“I mean, are you going to make a move on him?” Erika wondered damning herself for caring.

“I think he might. It looked like he was flirting earlier. God, I hope so,” Beth sighed, clearly getting lost in a fantasy. They both looked back at Will, “he looks so pretty and dumb, and at the same time like someone who would unapologetically fuck you stupid.”

Erika wondered when it happened that Beth thought she had all that freedom with her. Maybe she thought that because they were both girls and Erika was in a stable relationship with someone like Kyle then she was free to say the worse and still have her support. How wrong she was.

However, before Erika could say anything, she got lost watching Will interact with Kyle and Mark, and she forgot all about the problem at hand. They were talking to each other all holding a bottle of beer. Kyle was the tallest and stood in the middle of the group as his gaze hopped from one to the other of his friends standing at his sides. The seriousness of their faces only made her crave to know what had just been said. 

Mark raised a hand, explaining something and Will disagreed, shaking his head, so Kyle moved and brushed a hand on Will’s chest, trying to reassure the Brit. 

Erika frowned. What were they saying? She wished she could be a lip reader.

Will gaze traced back to her and caught her watching him. Again, she raised her chin up. He looked crossed, like he was ready to have a confrontation, thought she would bet money she had a bigger pride than his. If he had a problem with her looking at him, he could have just left her house.

Kyle and Mark too looked back at her. Mark kept being puzzled, he was studying the situation more than anything, trying to get an idea of what was happening, all the while Kyle just seemed defeated. 

Will said something that prompted Kyle to take his arm, calling his attention back to him. They exchanged a few words, and by then Erika could only see the intensity of Kyle’s gaze pouring right into Will’s. Kyle placed a hand on Will’s chest and the other on his face, still looking at him, talking and nodding. It seemed like he was trying to reassure him.

Erika damned herself. And damned Will. 

Everything could have been easy. No one needed to get hurt if only he hadn’t decided to go and be an asshole. And now, hell, how did it get to be that bad?

She didn’t even care about herself and her own disappointment and broken heart. She knew she could suffer and handle it. Kinda. But Kyle? She would have ripped her own arms off before letting anything happen to him. And she knew that sooner or later whatever was corroding her from the inside, splitting her and Will up, would have surfaced and impacted Kyle too. 

It was only a matter of time. 

If she kept lying and not talking to him, he would have only got hurt worse by her own hand. And for what? For her to try and prioritize his friendship with Will and protect the Brit!? But her alternative was much worse. She couldn’t, for the life of her, even think about the possibility of giving him any reason to lose trust in his dearest friend.

Kyle had only one family and it was her and the two men standing by him. He was too precious to be let down in any way by any of them.

Beth was still blubbering about Will, but Erika wasn’t listening anymore by then.

Erika cleared her voice, trying to put her thoughts in order. She crossed her arms, trying to find a way to feel secure when the floor underneath her feet seemed to suddenly disappear. Erika downed her wine, having an interior battle about how wise it would have been to go and get herself another glass. She was already feeling the effects of the booze warming her nerves and slightly slowing up her thought process. Was she really considering drinking more?

Yes. Maybe the answer was getting blackout drunk.

“Sorry,” Erika murmured, stepping back and away from Beth, “I’ll be back.” That being said, she turned over and left her empty wine glass on the kitchen countertop on her way to the door.

She needed to get out of there. She needed some fresh air. To clear her head.

Erika patiently waited at the till as her order was being processed. On the counter, already stuck in an anonymous white plastic bag, there was a bottle of whiskey she didn’t need and a snickers bar. Although her attention wasn’t on those items, she yarned at the tobacco and cigarettes dispenser behind the cashier.

Never like that evening, she had craved a cigarette since she quit smoking and yet that was the sole reason why she entered into the off-licence corner shop. She won on her craving though, opting for booze and chocolate. 

She didn’t even want the whiskey. She only bought it to pretend to have an excuse to leave the party. 

“There we go Miss Erika,” the cashier politely smiled, offering her a plastic bag of goodies. He was a sweet, little man just over middle age. She liked him and it sure wasn’t the first time she or Kyle ran to the corner shop for emergency supplies like booze, snacks, ice cream or cigarettes, when she used to smoke. “You look very pretty tonight, Miss.”

“Thank you, Mr Salim,” Erika smiled politely. She appreciated the compliment, but she also felt slightly uncomfortable. She did look completely out of place in her outfit there. But outside on the street, the air was too chilli for how short her dress was or how much of her skin it revealed.

“You are going to have to invite me to one of your parties one of these days,”

“I will when you decide to take a vacation day!”

“Oh,” he chuckled softly, shaking his head, “then, who’s gonna look after my shop?”

Erika picked up her bag, offering the man a small smile. “Then no party for you, Mr Salim.”

He chuckled some more and then shook a finger at her. “Don’t have too much fun, Miss. And give my best to Mr Kyle,”

“I will. Don’t work too hard Mr Salim, have a good night,” she said as she left.

The time she had spent outside her apartment wasn’t remotely enough for her to feel any better. But she had run out of ideas. She wasn’t ready to go back though, but her options were slim. She could have walked up and down the street a couple of times, freezing to death and looking like she just left a club too drunk to realise she wasn’t wearing a coat. Or, she could have gone back into her building complex and waited patiently on the stairs for some time to go buy. Having her sneakers. 

“Erika!”

She gasped and turned over, startled. Her heart missed a beat, as she looked in the direction the voice came from. She recognised him immediately and wished to be strong enough not to react to him, and yet, she wasn’t. 

“Jesus,” Will bent catching his breath, stopping a moment, before approaching her. He looked concerned. “Where did you go!? We got worried.”

“I-” Erika vaguely pointed at the corner shop, rattling the bag in her hand, as if that could be explanation enough. Then she sent him an inquisitive look. “Did you follow me?”

“Well, yes. You just walked out.”

Erika looked up into his eyes, confronting him. “I thought you were damning the day you met me. Funny that you also run after me.”

“I needed to talk to you.”

“Well?” She wondered opening her arms, “I’m right here, go on then. Bet this one can’t be any better than anything you had to say before.”

Will hesitated. He looked at her for a long second, studying her face and the longer he looked, the more puzzled his expression became. “Why are you this mad at me?” He wondered, dropping whatever reason he seemed to have to confront her. His tone was now just sad and soft. “What did I ever do to you to deserve what you are doing?”

Erika scoffed in his face, shaking her head. “What the fuck?” She was smiling dangerously, hovering so close to losing every drop of patience and maturity she had in her, “What am I doing? Let’s hear it.” She didn’t drop anything and went under him as if she was ready to physically take him on. “This better be good Ospreay. Enlighten me.”

“What did you say to your brother?” Will too was quick to heat back up. “For a start.”

“Nothing. What the fuck are you talking about!?”

“Why do I have to justify anything to Mark?” Will pressed on. 

“He’s my brother. I tell him whatever the fuck I want.”

“I have done nothing wrong.” Will plead. “If you dare to put Mark or Kyle against me on a whim of yours, then,”

“Then what, Will?” She snapped, “Are you threatening me?”

He seemed more confused than her. As if her words just made him realise what kind of boundaries he was breaking, Will took a step back, rubbing his hands on his face. “Fuck’s sake,” he murmured, “Just-” when he turned back to her, he looked desperate. His hurt hit her right in the stomach. “Don’t do this. Don’t put them against me. Mark is like a brother. And Kyle-” he chocked, “I love Kyle, you know that.”

He was hurting. She shouldn’t have cared. After everything, she should have ignored him or worse, she should have kept being enraged by his behaviour. And yet, something in her gut stopped her. It was impossible to her the idea of willingly hurting him. 

“Will,” she whispered, hesitating a second before taking a step closer to him. “I would never do that. Don’t you think I know what you guys mean to each other?

“You tell me,”

“Don’t you know me?”

“I don’t know what I know anymore,”

His words hit her deeper than she expected and showed on her face. Her eyes mirrored her pain as she looked right into him, unable to hide it any longer. 

“Why?” She wondered, her voice trembling, “what changed?”

“What do you mean what changed?” His gaze hardened.

Erika was on the verge of tears by then and she had decided she wasn’t going to hide anymore. Fuck it. Fuck him. Fuck her pride. 

“Why did you have sex with me and Kyle if you had to go and make it so awkward after?”

It was like she spoke another language. Will looked at her like she had just stubbed him right in the heart. “I don’t know. At this point, I don’t know why I did it.”

Equally, he hit her right back. 

She felt her chest squeeze, constricted by the freezing cold disappointment of realising she had been mistaken all along. There was no saving anything. No fixing.

“Do you regret it?” She wondered, turning away and catching a tear as soon as she started crying as if that was enough to hide away from him. She didn’t even care to appear pathetic anymore.

“I think I do,” he admitted.

“So, that’s it.” Erika looked up at him, tears streaming down her face. She let him see her and ignored how hesitation and doubt kicked in him. “Don’t worry,” she waved her hand, taking a step back, “I was wrong. I made a mistake. I won’t say anything to Mark or Kyle about this.”

It was over.

Now she had to find a way to keep that little amount of pride she had left up high and do everything in her power to find a way to not ruin her relationship with Kyle trying to protect him.

Before she could slip away, Will grabbed her by her shoulders and made her look at him. “Do you know why I regret it?”

She tried to escape him, “Please, Will, I said I’m done. I’ll leave you alone. Why do you have to be so cruel?”

Instead of letting her go, he cupped her face, making her look directly at him. 

Erika wished not to with every inch of her being but his touch was warm and she melted into it. 

“I’m going mad. Why are you crying like this?”

“Because you are a damn bastard,” she didn’t yell, she didn’t fight anymore, “You never noticed how much I liked you before? Do you think I’d invite any random guy to share a bed with me and Kyle?” She shook her head, “This is entirely on me, I understand my mistake. And I am not even upset about hooking up. I am upset because you just shut me out after. I understand why Kyle is more important to you, but seeing how nothing changed between you two and how everything changed with me-”

“You left.” Will simply said. “That morning, you left. I felt awkward with Kyle too as we woke up. I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to say or do. I wasn’t even sure if I could look at him. We had always been close but clearly never that close. It was a new circumstance for the both of us and you weren’t there,” he cleared his voice, his cheeks blushing, “but it’s pretty easy to sort out stuff between boys.”

“You think I left you!?” Erika paused, looking into his eyes. Something clicked in her mind and she felt like the ground had opened underneath her feet. Now everything that had happened, everything that had been said, suddenly assumed a different light. 

“I assumed,”

“You fucking dumb son of a bitch,” Erika punched his chest with no real intention of hurting him, “You assumed wrong. I thought you left me! I only went for a run because I woke up buzzing with energy and didn’t know where to put it. I felt awkward and scared and I needed time to think.”

“Think about what?”

“Why it meant so much to be with you, for one. And what it could possibly mean for me and Kyle. It doesn’t happen every fucking day I fuck two guys.”

“I-” Will choked through his words, still looking at her like she spoke another language. “It doesn’t make any fucking sense. Why wouldn’t Kyle say anything?”

“Kyle didn’t know!” She gave Will another push but she was ready to fight him if he tried to get away from her, “I haven’t spoken to Kyle in a week. I couldn’t. Anytime he asked questions I’d shush him and fuck him. I knew that if I had told him how I was hurt he’d be crossed at you. I thought it was better this way.”

“Why you didn’t try to reach out?”

“Why didn’t you?” Erika’s words seemed to bring him some sense, to which point she nodded, “Can you blame me?”

“No.”

“And then tonight,” she started, shaking her head, “I thought I’d use the occasion to understand what the fuck happened but we just kept saying more horrible things to each other.”

“I hated to see how happy you looked like nothing mattered. Doing your thing in your little party with all your little friends,” Will bent his lips.

“You were my exact mirror. It looked like you didn’t care,”

“God,” Will pulled her to his chest in a hug she didn’t refuse. Maybe she should have fought a little longer, only to make him understand how much he hurt her, but she couldn’t, she was too tired for that and feeling his welcoming chest under her head, and his warmth surrounding her, was everything she needed.

Her pain was gone. She was still shaken and her pride was still bruised in a way she wasn’t sure she could fix because she now felt like the most stupid person in the world who created a problem and basked in her own grave after she dug it happily. But her chest was free. 

Erika slid an arm around Will’s waist, holding him solidly and pressed her face into his shoulder, letting him hold her tight. He pushed a hand into her hair, cradling her softly. “I am so sorry. I didn’t mean anything by what I’ve said. I didn’t mean it.”

“I mean it when I say you are a dumb son of a bitch,” she sniffled, looking up at him. She pulled a timid smile, while drying her tears off her face, hoping her make up wasn’t completely ruined. 

There was a small pause and then Will finally smiled, chuckling at her words. To her, it looked like seeing the sun shining bright in the sky after a long, long time of bad weather. 

“I am an idiot.”

“Yes,” she agreed.

Will cupped her face in his hands, taking a moment to enjoy feeling her in his grasp, his smile softened. “Can I kiss you? Please?”

“You better, Billy Goat, or I won’t speak to you ever again.”

He didn’t even let her finish her sentence before he pulled her into a kiss. At first, he only pressed his lips on hers, still slightly uncertain, but as soon as Erika slid her hand up his chest and around his neck, he warmed up completely, closing her in between his arms and deepening their kiss.

Erika purred when their tongues crossed and pushed her hand into his hair, feeling the need to cross her fingers into his curls.

“Never again,” Erika whispered against his lips, “you do not keep secrets from me. When something is wrong, you must talk about it.”

He nodded, pecking at her lips. “Yes, ma’am. I think you need to talk to Kyle now.”

“Yes,” she released a sad huff, “I feel so sorry. I didn’t mean to shut him out. Neither of you.”

“He’ll understand. He’s Kyle.” Will pulled a confident smile Erika couldn’t keep herself from kissing. 

“Will you stay tonight?” 

“If you want me to.”

“Please,” she pulled him into another heated kiss. Only the thought of having both him and Kyle to herself was enough to make her brain stop working completely.

Will let go of her only to press his forehead on hers, inhaling a deep, peaceful breath. 

“What’s in the bag?” He wondered sliding his hand over her arm and hooking his fingers onto the plastic bag.

“Just a snicker bar and some whiskey. I needed an excuse to leave. And I needed an excuse not to get a packet of cigarettes.”

Will took the bag off her hold as if it was something that weighed too much for her and then slid a heavy arm around her shoulders, pulling her under his side, and rubbing his hand over her. “Let’s get you inside.” Will softly kissed her temple.

“Okay,” Erika smiled, leaning against him and resting her hand on his chest, unable to let go. 

They rode the elevator in silence, just hugging, enjoying that moment of peace and then walked hand in hand back to the flat, although Erika stopped him a moment before he could go back in. 

She giggled as she pushed him against the wall. 

“Someone could see us,” he whispered not at all refusing her.

Erika tapped her fingers on his chest, tracing them up his neck and chin. “I don’t care.” She whispered pulling him into a kiss. “Did you know you made a conquest at the party?”

“Did I?” Will closed his arms around her waist, pulling her against him, widening his strong thighs so she could stand in between his legs.

“Mh,” she did to kiss him and then moved away last minute, making him want it. “My friend Beth said you have the look of a pretty, dumb guy who’d fuck you stupid.”

“Well,” he chuckled, “she isn’t wrong.”

Erika pulled him by the chin, brushing her lips against his. Tasting his breath on her tongue made her stomach vibrate and melt into a warm feeling that slid down into her abdomen. “I’ve never been so jealous in my life.” She teased. “I wanted to put her through a table.”

“I would have paid money to see that.” Will switched position, pushing her against the wall, trapping her lips into a kiss and pressing his body against hers. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Just saying,” she smiled, “that’s the expectation around here.”

“Yours?” Erika purred, answering to him with another kiss. Will smiled against her lips, nodding. “Noted.” He then pushed his face into her neck, assaulting her sensitive skin. “I could start now,” Will rested the plastic bag on the floor and then his hands ran quickly to her naked legs, reaching for the helm of her dress, “would you like that, love?”

His coarse voice vibrated low right through her skin sending a shiver down her spine. It was inebriating. They had been together only once and yet she had missed him like it had been a lifetime.

Erika stretched and bent underneath him, her hands trailing across his chest and shoulders, avidly feeling the edge of his muscles under her palms. She was eager to feel him move under her touch, craving to have him naked only so she could watch him move for her. She bit her lips shut, trying her hardest to suffocate a whimper, already struggling to keep quiet and he was barely stroking her legs. 

“This,” Will pointed out as his fingers followed the edge of her dress, “is a very tiny dress, love,” he pressed his smile just under her chin. “It was so hard being around you all night, it was.” Just like he had a point to make, Will’s hands traced up her body, following the edges of her dress cutting a low neckline across her stomach. He toyed with the thin golden chains that kept it together. “wanted me and Kyle to become madmen, didn’t you?” he teased looking down at her.

“I wore it for you,” she looked at him only pretending to be all innocent, biting her lower lip. 

“You are such a cheeky little tease, you are,” Will leaned in for a kiss. 

She would have lied if she said she cared in the slightest about being in her very public floor corridor, where everyone could walk by and see she was unashamedly making out with someone who wasn’t her boyfriend. But, besides her pressing desire to forget everything about their misunderstanding and just get lost in Will’s arms, Erika still pressed a hand on his chest. 

She huffed, trying to get a hold of her thoughts. “Hold on,” she pushed in the middle of his chest with more conviction, not because she didn’t think that he would stop at her words, but because she needed something to hold onto. And she needed air. She couldn’t think straight when her senses where so overwhelmed by him. “We need to talk to Kyle.”

Will’s gaze was soft as he crossed her face. He leaned his head to the side and raised a hand to her jaw, tracing it to her chin. “Yes.”

Erika raised her chin, looking at him right in the eye. “I know we have lots more to talk about to understand what this thing is,” she pointed between them, “but I do not want only sex from you.” She felt her cheeks blush and her heart pitter-patter in her chest as emotions flew across her. She wasn’t the shy type, never was. And hell, if she would have let misunderstanding get in the way of her and her happiness again. “Just so we are clear.”

“No?” Will pecked her lips softly, not hiding a big dumb smile curling on his lips. “And what is it that you’d like? Tell me, love.”

“I mean, don’t get me wrong, I still want you to fuck me stupid.”

“Fair enough,” he chuckled.

“But I think I’d like to try and date you.”

“I am pretty sure I can clear my schedule a little and find some space to take you out.”

Erika nodded, pulling a timid smile. “Do you think Kyle will be on board?”

“Considering he’d jump off a building for you and the fact that you Australians are fucking mental, I think it’s safe to say he would. Plus,” 

The way Will blushed and his eyes trailed off, as he shied away, made her attention pop. A big, teasing smile grew on her lips as Erika poked his chest. “What was that? What aren’t you telling me, Ospreay?”

“I mean,” he was still avoiding eye contact, hiding behind his stupid smile that made her go insane, “I think I won’t have a problem dating either of you.”

“What are you saying?” She wondered feeling his words sliding right through her and into her stomach, making her feel warm and comforted. She did understand what he meant already but wanted so badly to hear it coming from him.

“I mean, you know, Kyle is very special to me.”

“Is he?” She purred.

“He’s very talented, very kind and very beautiful,” Will pointed out, “Why would I have a problem with that?”

“Are you saying you have a crush on my boyfriend?” She smiled proudly, somehow feeling that information weight right in her belly, making her tremble under her own skin. 

There was something forbidden and tremendously beautiful to the idea that not only Will and Kyle liked her but they could also like each other. She was shaken by the need ok knowing, of seeing it happen. 

She had known them both a very long time and witnessed years of flirting, but always assumed it was innocent playing around. She would lie if she said she never fantasised about it. Actually, that was at the very core of her threesome fantasies, honestly, but never before she had found a reason to bring it up. Erika settled thinking that was just how things were between them. They all did it with each other. And both Kyle and Will had the same behaviour with Mark. But now she was starting to wonder if something may have been different all along.

“Maybe I do,” Will proceeded, glimmering eyes and rose cheeks popping up under his smile. He tapped his index softly on the tip of her nose, “but you sure are nosy, aren’t you?”

“I am not!” She chuckled, “But I am intrigued.”

“Ah, yeah?” He wondered leaning in for a kiss, “You like the idea that I might like your boy, uh?” he brushed his lips against hers, “does it turn you on, love?”

“God,” Erika exhaled, nodding even before words could come out. She felt her throat seal shut and needed desperately a breath of fresh air just to clear her head because what she was picturing in her thoughts wasn’t only improper, but extremely out of place considering they were supposed to be locked in a room full of people for the rest of the evening. 

Will puffed up his chest with pride and smiled. “You are so very bad, you are.”

Erika pulled him into another kiss with a smile on her lips and then forced herself to push him off herself with a chuckle. She wasn’t ready to go back to the party just yet, and especially when she couldn’t be all over him and her boyfriend, but the voice of reason reminded her they both had been gone a while.

“C’mon handsome, let’s go back before they’ll send a search squad.” 

Will nodded, “As you wish, love.”

As soon as they went through the door, most eyes moved on them. Most were puzzled as the flow of the party slowed. Erika wasn’t bothered by anyone else’s reaction; her attention was only for one person.

She smiled as soon as she made eye contact with Kyle, who looked over to them from the other side of the room, easily peeking above everyone else’s head. He was quick to assert the situation, studying her and Will and then a soft, large smile popped on his lips too as he deduced everything that needed to be said by their respective body language.

Before she could go to him, Erika slipped by the catering people, leaving her miserable bag of excuses on the open kitchen counter. “Don’t worry about this one, ok?” She instructed the girl standing the closest to her, who nodded willingly. “Thank you. You are smashing it,” she then added, showing her appreciation for their job. More would have come into the fat tip they would have left them at the end of the evening. 

The girl pulled a large smile nodding gratefully. “Thank you, ma’am, glad you are enjoying it.”

As Erika turned, she found Will waiting for her. She wished she could have better control over herself, but she still blushed under his eyes, unable to hide her interest. She brushed her hand on his abdomen as she passed him over. “You should mingle, now.”

“Or I could just look at you,” he whispered softly to her ear, “and think about all the things I will do to you once we’ll be alone.”

Erika was crossed by a shiver. “I hate you so much, Billy.”

“No, you don’t.”

She shook her head and had to gather all her strength and control to slip off him. It didn’t matter what she did, he had planted a seed into her mind and now she wasn’t able to think about anything else but what he had said. Her stomach was already trembling in anticipation. God, she was ready to kick everyone out, even her own brother, just to be able to have the rest of the night with him and Kyle already.

Erika managed to leave Will and cross the room, reaching for Kyle’s side. He was talking to a couple of the guys he and Mark met training. As soon as she was close, Kyle pulled her under his arm, dragging her naturally to his side, not losing the flow of his conversation. 

“Hey,” she greeted them wrapping her arms around Kyle’s waist.

She didn’t care too much about their conversation, it was loads of opinions about wrestling technicalities and she didn’t have the focus to get into it.

“Can I talk to you for a minute?” She wondered popping her chin on his chest, looking up at him.

“Of course,” Kyle kissed her forehead and then looked over to the other two, “Sorry boys, I’ll get back to you.”

Erika grabbed his hand and pulled him with her to the bedroom, seeking some privacy. As they crossed the room, she briefly looked back finding Will sitting with Mark on the sofa, they were clearly having a lively conversation with some other people. When she noticed that Beth was standing there between everyone, listening to whatever Will was saying with interest. Erika couldn’t help herself from whipping out a victorious smile. She was maybe being extremely childish, but knowing what the other girl wanted was ultimately hers fed right into her pride.

Erika found soothe into shutting everyone else behind her back, as she closed the door. The bedroom was nice and quiet, bringing her to release a relieved huff. “God, I feel like this party is going on forever.”

“Do you?” Kyle’s propped her chin up just so he could lean in for a kiss.

Erika immediately melted in his hold. Her hands raced up his arms and around his shoulders, as she took a long moment to enjoy being in his arms. As soon as their tongues crossed, Erika was crossed by another, powerful, hot shiver sliding down her spine and nesting into her abdomen, making her tremble. Kyle’s arms caged her. His hands slid on her body, feeling her curves.

“You,” she started, breaking her kiss, trying to catch her breath, “need to stop right now,”

“Or what, baby?” He backed her up against the wall, a confident smile printed on his lips and laser-focused eyes glimmering at her like the ones of a hungry wolf. 

Erika tried to keep her hands planted in the centre of his chest, keeping him steady, but she wasn’t truly fighting him off as Kyle leaned in looking for her lips again.

“We have guests,” she panted, trying to maintain some sense, unsure what strength was driving her, especially after she had been turned on so much by Will just a moment ago. “We can’t just disappear,”

“I am sure everyone who noticed we slipped away is thinking we are fucking.” 

Erika chuckled, sliding her hands through Kyle’s hair as he traced the line of her jaw. “Believe it or not I didn’t drag you here for a quickie.”

“No?” He sounded genuinely sad about it, “That is not very nice, babe.”

“Pretty please? I need to tell you something and it’s really hard for me to focus when you are all over me.”

“Seems I am still not doing a good job at it,”

“Shut up Fletcher,” she playfully pushed him off her, shaking her head. “When everyone is gone, and especially my brother. You can toy with me as you please.”

“I’ll keep you up on that.” Kyle looked down at her offering a cheeky smile. Then, he backed off, going and sitting on the edge of the bed. “So,” he started looking at her with interest, “you and Will made up?”

“About that,” she started stepping closer, “yes, we did. But before we talk about that I need to apologise.”

“For what, baby?” Kyle pulled her closer to him, making her stand in between his long legs. When he was sat, they were almost the same hight.

Erika rested her arms on his shoulders and tenderly stroked his hair, offering a small, soft but ashamed smile. “I didn’t mean to keep you out.”

“You never have to apologise to me.”

“No,” she pressed on, “I do. Please, be mad at me for once,”

“You want me to be mad?”

“No, I mean, take my apologise like you were.”

“Ok,” Kyle paused to process her words, “so tell me, now,” he looked up into her eyes, “tell me what it is you didn’t tell me all week.”

“I didn’t want to be an inconvenience. I didn’t want my problem to taint your relationship with Will. So, I couldn’t tell you how hurt I was when I found out he just left that morning and then didn’t reach out to me. I realise that if I had said something to you, this situation would have been easily resolved, but I didn’t, so I managed to convince myself Will was ignoring me just as much as he convinced himself about the same thing,”

“First, you will never be an inconvenience to me. Second, you convinced me too. I knew something was off, but because you didn’t say a word about Will, I understood it the other way around.”

“Like?”

“Like you wanted to forget that night. Which is why I didn’t bring it up ever again. Until today. I started to suspect I misunderstood just today.”

“I am sorry,” Erika shook her head, “I feel so stupid. This could have ended so badly.” Her breath was suddenly shaken as she looked away. “I know how much Will means to you and I couldn’t bear to be the sore nerve in the middle of your beautiful relationship so,”

Before she could continue, Kyle pulled her into a kiss, silencing her. “Don’t say it,” he whispered, “do not say what you almost did. Which, by the way, I wouldn’t let you do. I would never let you leave me. Not like this. Not until I am certain that’d be the only way to make you happy. But not like this.”

“See? You would have fought.”

“Hell yeah,”

“Why would you fight for me when I thought about leaving you,” Erika paused again, “I am so sorry.”

“Erika, baby,” Kyle made her look at him, “You aren’t thinking of leaving me because you are selfish or mean. I can see that everything you did, even if it may have been a degree wrong, you did it to protect my interest to the best of your abilities.” Kyle slid his hands around her face, stroking her cheeks. “I appreciate you. I love you. But don’t ever think I’d be happier without you.”

“I promise I won’t keep anything from you,” Erika pushed a hand on his chest, just above where his heart was, “No more secrets.”

“That would be wise,” Kyle chuckled. His smile was as fresh as the breeze, making her feel reassured, “Especially since I seem to be the voice of reason around here.”

“Then, coming to the most pressing matter.” Erika started, looking down again. Her cheeks were slowly blushing, “I want to date Will.”

“Are you leaving me for Billy Goat!?” Kyle placed a hand on his chest, pretending to look shocked. “I knew he was bad business,”

“C’mon, mate,” Erika gave him a playful push, “be serious you idiot,”

“Right,” Kyle nodded, “Am I invited to join this dating party? Or is it an exclusive?”

“No. I mean yeah, yes you are invited. I mean, you must be there.” Erika cleared her voice, just saying it out loud brought images into her mind making her thoughts all foggy and her stomach twist. “I would like to welcome Will in the couple, that’s it. Because I like him. I’ve been liking him a while,” she talked fast as if pushing out the words as quickly as possible could somehow hide her from Kyle’s reaction.

“Yeah, I know that babe,”

“So, what do you think?”

She didn’t even think about the possibility of his refusal. What if he was only interested in a one-night stand and didn’t care to indulge her? What if he didn’t like the idea of sharing all of that with Will?

Kyle shrugged, “I mean I am down for it. What did Will say?”

“He’s totally smitten by you. Called you beautiful, quoting.”

“I mean, I am beautiful, but that’s beside the point.”

Erika chuckled, “You are such a dumb prick sometimes,”

Kyle still blushed, even though he had just been cocky, “I’d like that. I mean it’s not a secret how much I feel for Will so,”

“Yeah, but there’s a difference between close friendship and romance,”

“Is there?” Kyle wondered, “Or maybe I just never openly admitted that I like him and that’s why we are so close. I mean, not that I have thought about it enough to put a label on it, but I wouldn’t oppose having him around more often. Equally, I have no problem getting on with the both of you.”

“Oh,” Erika chuckled, nodding, “that I know.” 

In her belly, Erika felt a warm feeling distending and sliding across her body, under her skin, lulling her into a new relaxed state. It wasn’t only finding relief after days of intense, nerve-wracking anxiety and dreadful sadness, it was also joy, deep and pure. 

She hadn’t planned anything to go the way it went in the past few days and certainly, she wasn’t expecting it to end up like a bloody fairytale happy ending. She had convinced herself of the opposite. But now she couldn’t think about anything but being grateful. 

If only she had known earlier that things would have turned out that way.

She then pulled him into a hug, pushing her face into the crook of his neck. Erika cradled him gently, assimilating the consistency of his solid body in her arms. “Whatever, you know? I love you.”

“I love you too, always.” 

Erika was completely taken by pleasure. She felt like she was floating. Her body didn’t feel hers anymore. She didn’t have weight or consistency. No thoughts, only emotions. She was only her pleasure, wrapped and moulded under heavy bodies, hot hands and hungry mouths.

Kyle kept her solidly pressed against his chest. He had one hand wrapped around her throat as his other arm twisted around her waist, just so he could have easy access to her clit, only intensifying her pleasure as she took both of them in. She was riding Will’s cock, as Kyle fucked her ass. 

“You are doing so good, pet,” he lulled at her ear. 

They were taking it extremely slow now, especially for the standards they were getting her used to, but it wasn’t certainly the pace of their night. The boys had been relentless and merciless, making her come countless times already and still keeping her pleasure rolling.

Erika thought she could snap and go insane. She had never cried because of pleasure before. She had heard of the event. Maybe even see it when watching dirty, hardcore porno but never experienced it herself. Up to tonight.

The first-time tears had started streaming down her face, both Will and Kyle froze, thinking they were hurting her somehow, only making her go more feral. Erika had to threaten them not to stop, ever. Unless she told them so. And they hadn’t ever since.

She had never experienced anything like what she was feeling that night. Not even the first time they were together the pleasure was quite so high. But that night was somehow hotter, and dirtier, the things they did and said to each other were more prohibited and inebriating. And none of the trio seemed to have enough of the other two.

Erika whimpered, too exhausted even to moan louder. Erika sat down on Will’s cock, slowly, accompanied by Kyle’s hand guiding her movements as the Aussie proceeded to slide back into her. It was like a synchronised dance between them, supposed to cyclically fill her up as much as possible. She had begged for it but could never be ready for the real feeling. She had experience with anal and even double penetration, as she and Kyle liked to play with toys, but her toys weren’t as big as both those boys fucking her. She felt like she was getting split in two, and loved every second of it. 

Their skin was a sticky mess of sweat, bodily fluids and lube. 

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” Kyle’s pure satisfaction vibrated through his voice, making her purr.

Words escaped her mind just as easily as thoughts did, she was abandoned in between their arms, body and soul, Erika only managed to slowly nod at him.

She felt Kyle's sharp smile pressed on her shoulder as he looked down at Will and invited her to a holt. In her stillness, Erika took a second to catch her breath, relaxing her lower abdomen and adjusting to both men's sizes. 

She wasn’t at all mad at Kyle’s chosen pace. It gave her a chance to catch her breath – as much as still being fucked and held by the throat, hands tied behind her back could do. But she knew that Kyle’s slow torture wasn’t targeted at her, for once. She knew the Aussie's bright eyes were pointed at Will just as much as she was aware his sharp, challenging smile was for the Brit too, as Kyle had taken control over the both of them. 

And she was in with Kyle’s game. Hearing Will whimpering underneath her, begging for pleasure, made her go insane.

He too had his hands bound. He was trapped by handcuffs locked to the bed board and she loved to see how he moved and stretched underneath her. His muscles twitching and contracting. His big arms looked so good bent above his head. 

She had taken a mental note of how much she liked it and thought next time she would have tied down both boys, planning to take her time to play with both.

However, that wasn’t quite the only thing that sent her completely feral. The desperate insanity of her attraction to the two men she was sharing the bed with pivoted when Kyle silenced Will, staffing her panties into his mouth and gagging him.

“Do you want to fuck this pretty boy, pet?” Kyle wondered. His words were enough to make both her and Will tremble. Kyle had his large hand opened wide on her lower abdomen and pressed on her, making her move her hips ever so slowly, causing Will to twitch and huff. 

Erika smiled, turning her head to Kyle as much as his hold on her allowed movement, looking for a kiss. “Please,” she whispered against his lips. “I do.”

“Of course, you do, pet,” he cooed, “that’s what you like doing best, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” 

Kyle dangerously purred in her ear, “No, no, pretty one, don’t disappoint me now,” he pushed her chin up and head back just to make her stretch in his hold. “Say it. Let me hear it,”

Erika moulded under his control, “Please, let me fuck him,” she whined, “I am such a slut for you,” she continued and the more she said, the more she wanted to say just to please the Aussie. “I want you both to cum all over me.”

“That bad, uh?” Kyle pushed her head back so she could watch Will, controlling her hips to move in another painfully slow thrust. And then another, quicker this time. They all moaned. “Shall we milk every drop of what he has to give?” Kyle’s hand stretched over Will’s abdomen, causing the Brit to react to his touch, bending his back with a whine. Before she could even think about responding in any way, Kyle's soft chuckle in her ear gave her a shiver. “Or, I could fuck you some more myself and make him watch.”

Will grunted, impatiently twitching underneath them, trying to buck his hips into her to find some form of satisfaction, trying to lift himself up and fight the firm hold of his handcuffs.

That only caused Kyle to chuckle, “What was that baby? Daddy’s angry?” He guided another slow thrust. “Daddy should learn to be patient, don’t you think, pet?”

She nodded, rolling her head on his shoulder and letting a small moan out, not entirely sure she could think straight anymore. Almost out of habit, without thinking, she moved her hips, taking the initiative to thrust on them. Kyle let her. Her body was stretched like an elastic band ready to snap, pressed under her ever-grown hunger for pleasure that wouldn’t come. Kyle’s torture was making her go mad. 

“Please, Kyle,” she huffed, exchanging a desperate look with Will. They both begged to be satisfied. 

“Yes, pet? What is it?”

“I need-” 

Kyle suffocated her words and ripped a moan out of her as he made her slide up and down Will’s cock pushing himself back into her. Erika opened her mouth wide, rolling her eyes in the back of her skull. The pleasure of feeling them both inside of her was too much even for her to voice it.

“What do you need, baby?” his tone was now softer, more attentive, “Tell me, I will give it to you.”

“J-just fuck me,” she exhaled, “and let me fuck him.”

Kyle was ready to give her what she wanted. He exchanged a nod with Will, only so he would be ready and received a suffocated moan in return, as Will still tried to fight the handcuffs off. “Nah, big boy,” Kyle patted Will on the belly, “you are staying exactly like that.”

A shiver crossed Erika as she nodded, supporting the Aussie. “Daddy’s so pretty tied up.” She purred pressing a smile into Kyle’s jaw.

Will let his head fall on the pillow and bit down on the fabric in his mouth, suffocating a grunt, but the second he stopped resisting, Kyle rewarded him with what everyone wanted.

“C’mon, baby, be a good girl and take what you need from us,” he instructed, letting Erika move freely as she wished on Will’s cock, and respecting her rhythm with his own thrusts.

She stretched against him and rode the Brit. Now it was her turn to be merciless, but Erika had very little patience too. She had been toyed with enough and felt like she was going to implode if she hadn’t found release. She whined, her body already shaking as the wildest wave of pleasure started to grow inside her tummy.

Her fingers spread out on Kyle’s abdomen, touching as much of Kyle’s skin as she could, even though her hands were tied up. 

He kissed her neck, ear and side of her head, only for his hold to become stronger around her throat. “Inhale, pet. Take a deep breath and hold it in those pretty lungs.”

Erika whimpered. A shiver crossed her spine, shaking her. She would have done anything for him but that command, somehow, was groundbreaking. Made her want to drop on her knees and have a collar put around her neck. It made her stomach twist. Her thoughts dissipated; nothing was left but letting herself go in his arms.

She did as instructed, inhaling deeply, just so Kyle could squeeze her throat and choke her. His hold was hot but firm, suffocating her breath and voice into submission as their rhythm only quickened. With every thrust shaking her and her lungs constricting into her chest, Erika felt her caged self spiral towards an undiscovered level of pleasure. 

Kyle lulled sweet words to her ear, encouraging her to take it all. He softly kissed her neck and bit down on her shoulder, suffocating his own moans on her skin. The hand he had around her abdomen quickly moved down between her legs, where he could massage her clit only making her pleasure grow exponentially.

Will arched under her, growling like a rabid animal and grabbing on the bed board, making the entire bed creak under the pressure of his hold. Erika quivered, feeling the mindless need to feel that same strength on her own body, bending her and holding her down.

She so desperately wanted to scream. She wasn’t thinking clearly any longer. 

When pleasure hit her, rolling into her lower belly and exploding through her, making her shake uncontrollably, Kyle caught her and held her, releasing his hold on her throat and letting her breathe. “Good girl,” he praised, cradling her, not stopping for one second fucking her and not allowing her to slow on Will either. “Give it to us, baby,”

Erika cried their names as pleasure muffled all her other senses. Her quivering body squeezed on the boys as she abandoned herself against Kyle’s chest, letting him guide her movements.

Will came first, right after her, following the waves of her pleasure. Kyle moaned too, feeling Will’s dick release inside of her. “That’s it, big boy,” he praised, “fill her pretty pussy up.”

Will filled her up with his hot seed and, whining and groaning, pulled on his handcuffs leaving marks on his wrists. Feeling his pleasure pump inside of her made her feral. Erika was ready to howl like a dog, feeling pure satisfaction in the idea he had just branded her. 

As soon as he was done, Kyle propped her up and continued fucking her, following Will and doing exactly the same thing. He pushed her head up just so he could trap her lips in a famished kiss, suffocating her whimpers as he fucked her mercilessly until he reached his own pleasure, filling her up a second time. Rode his orgasm suffocating his moans in the crook of her neck, hands grabbing on her body like he was trying his best to hold onto something, not to get washed away in his own orgasm.

Erika was a quivering mess. Her mind was completely fogged up and disconnected, to the point she wasn’t entirely aware of the sweet things Kyle chanted in her ear as he untied her wrists and laid her down.

The first thing she felt other than the hot waves of deep pleasure sex just gave her, was the cold air tickling her sweaty skin as she felt completely uncovered for the first time. She had been naked a long time by now, but she always had one boy or the other, or both on her at all time, up to that moment.

Kyle climbed above Will’s chest, full of praising words for him too as he pulled her panties out of his mouth. “You are a good, pretty boy, you know that?” he wondered softly, sliding a hand across Will’s jaw fondly.

Will smiled, not hiding the pink blushing his cheeks. “Thanks, darlin’” he patiently waited for Kyle to unlock his handcuffs, only to sit up with the Aussie in his lap and grab him by the neck as soon as he was free. “Next time you’ll be the one begging for daddy,”

Kyle looked into his eyes for a long time and then, as he slid his arms on Will’s shoulder, they both smiled at each other.

Erika rolled to her side, looking at them with a warm feeling spreading in her belly. She wasn’t only smitten by them. It was stronger than that. She needed to touch them so bad it hurt.

“Just kiss already,” she hinted, stretching in the bedsheets, trying to find some comfort for her tired body. She was exhausted and yet had enough strength left in her to still offer a cheeky smile to the both of them as they looked down at her. “I know you want to,” she purred, looking at Will.

Kyle and Will looked back at each other. The Aussie cupped Will’s face, caressing his cheeks, making him look up at him. “Do you, baby?”

“Call me baby one more time and I’ll lick the floor for you, pretty boy.”

Kyle pressed his smile on Will’s lips. Just like it had been for her, Will took a moment to melt into that new embrace, but when he did, she slid his arms around Kyle, pulling him into a hug. Their kiss was quick to heat up. When she saw their tongues flick as they made out, she was sure she felt it in her lower abdomen. Hearing their breath quicken only made Erika quiver under her own skin. Pure lust flooded through her, lighting her body up once again. 

She pushed herself up and slid close to them, kissing Will on the shoulder and then leaning on Kyle’s. “You’ll drive me insane boys.”

Both Kyle and Will looked back at her, welcoming her in their hug. “Good,” Will kissed her forehead and Kyle her cheek, making her feel their affection.

She felt so grateful and lucky.

“You know what’s the funniest part of this entire thing, mate?” Wondered Kyle, hanging on Will’s shoulders.

“What, bruv?”

“You will have to tell Mark you are fucking his sister.”

“Ah, fuck,” Will let himself fall backwards into the pillows, only pretending defeat, as both Kyle and Erika laughed.

[nowoyas]

Koi no Yokan 13: get your brain back (nishinoya yuu/reader)

First - Prev - Next - M.list - Ao3

A/N: due to yesterday's URL change, inter-chapter links are not currently working. I am in the process of fixing these, but have literally ninety-four fic posts to fix that with, most of which are linked in multiple places. the links on this post and in the new masterlist will work, but I would recommend reading on ao3 in the meantime until this note disappears.

Summary: You are brought home from the hospital to the Nishinoya household.

Warnings: blanket series warnings, mentions of/implied child abuse and neglect (non-explicit)

Words: 4500+

Noya to [name] at 23:49

Noya: [image attached. Image description: Soba as a kitten, curled up in the center of a futon. Her body forms a perfectly circular shape.]

Noya: hope everything's okay at the hospital.

Noya: here's soba stealing my futon when she was a kitten. hope she brings a little luck so you can sleep half as good as she does

Noya: might be difficult though, she's a good sleeper

~

Noya to [name] at 00:01

Noya: usually i'm a good sleeper too [message not sent]

~

Noya to [name] at 6:48

Noya: [image attached. Image description: Soba laying on her back in the traditional maneki-neko pose, stomach exposed with one paw up and the other curled against her chest. Her stomach is composed primarily of extreme fluff.]

Noya: a good luck soba to encourage your swift recovery

~

[name] to Noya at 7:03

[name]: :)

~

Noya to [name] at 7:10²⁷

Noya: [name]-san WHAT are you doing looking at your phone

Noya: the doctors said no screens! >:(

[name]: only if it asorsens my sympotoims

[name]: soba could NEVER do that tom e

[name]: sorry for yops im reading your texts and then reponsding without looking so im not using up m screntime

Noya: you're supposed to be RESTING!!!

[name]: was

[name]: yop ten worst ways to wake up

[name]: number one; forgetting to tunr off your wakeup alarm so yup get up at like six thirty in the fucking am with the worst heaxache youve had in your life and your phone screaming in your ear

[name]: tried fo r abit to get back to sleep but mostly ive just been trying to recover from the fucking wakeup alarm

Noya: oh my god

Noya: can you take phone calls? I don't wanna make your head worse

[name]: one sec

~

Noya's in the gym, but practice isn't for another twenty minutes, technically, and he's not sure anyone will blame him for having his phone this morning, let alone when he answers on the first ring. At worst, he gets a raised eyebrow from Chikara, but when he speaks in a soft, worried tone, it's immediately brushed off.

"Hey, how are you feeling?"

Your voice comes through a moment later. It's strained, and he's almost certain you've been crying, but he elects not to comment. "I'm alright, but I died."

He laughs softly, scurrying outside of the gym so he has room to pace. "You're doing better, then."

"Mm. Head still hurts like hell, but I haven't had any like… major events to justify keeping me here. They'll probably let me out on time."

"That's great! Other than the alarm incident, did you sleep okay?"

"Yeah, actually." You pause. For some reason, he holds his breath. "I guess Soba helped. Thanks."

"Of course. Listen, though, Okaa-san's not budging on you staying with us, at least until you're able to return to school and stuff. She wants to know what you want for dinner tonight."

Another pause. "Karaage. Is she… I mean… is she cool?"

He nods, forgetting for a moment that you can't see him. "She is. She raised me, you know."

A soft laugh comes through, barely picking up. "She must be really cool then."

"She's got a few options for you for how we're handling everything, but I think she's gonna talk to you more about those when we pick you up from the hospital. For now, you just focus on trying to rest, alright?"

There's a voice in the background—no one he recognizes, not that he would—that he can't quite make out, just as Ryu's head pokes out of the gym to grab him.

"Practice is starting," Ryu says in a low voice. Noya nods, gestures to the phone and holds up a single finger. That's all it takes to get a nod of understanding in reply.

He waits patiently until you're done talking to the stranger—your voice pitches into a whine, all I know, I'm sorry, just let me say goodbye first, a bit muffled with a shuffling sound that makes him think you're covering the speaker with one hand.

Another shuffle, and you return to him. "Okay, sorry—"

"I have to go," the two of you say in unison.

You huff. "Are you just trying to make me feel better for leaving?"

"No. Practice is starting. Ryu just came to get me."

"…right. That was a nurse on my end. They're yelling at me for getting out of bed when I'm still unsteady. Is it just your mom coming to pick me up later?"

"I'm gonna head out early to come with her."

"Senpai…"

"Lecture me when you're not getting lectured by nurses for slipping out of bed," he replies, cheeky.

"…fine. Make sure to tell me about practice later, okay? And tell Yachi-san and Shimizu-senpai I'm sorry I'm not there to help out, but I'll be back soon. And tell Hinata I died. And—"

He cuts you off with a laugh. "I'll tell them all that. You go rest."

When the both of you hang up, he takes the time to send another picture of Soba—this one asleep, covering her face with her paws—and runs inside, tucking his phone away to join practice.

~

Noya and his mom arrive to pick you up at hour 24 on the dot, and you have never been more excited to see a soul in your life. You're checked out, brought back to Noya's. His mom doesn't say much to you on the drive back, and you regret to admit that you don't really remember much of meeting her yesterday.

Noya is the one who fills the silence for the most part—he tells you all about how practice today went, the blow-by-blow of their little scrimmages, how he started working on the thing he was telling you about yesterday.

You blink at him blankly. "I, uh… sorry, but I gotta ask. I remember almost nothing from yesterday…"

"Oh! I'll show you a video when we get back—I mean, if your head can handle a few minutes with a screen," he adds, glancing nervously at the sharp look his mom is giving him in the rear-view.

One of many restrictions: you're not allowed screens. Or reading. Or thinking. Or fun. Also, no exercise, no texting (not even without looking at the screen, your nurse had chided after you'd tried to respond to your bonus morning Soba), and basically anything involving any amount of focus. They'd had the audacity to follow that up with oh, but you'll make things worse if you rest completely without doing anything at all, so you can still do things!. In other words: 

if something hurts, don't do it

do not take painkillers for the hurt

everything hurts

doing nothing will make things worse and cause recovery to take longer

Or, in still other words: you expect to experience a complete mental breakdown by the end of the day.

You meet Noya's mom's eyes in the rear-view again. You don't remember what you said to her yesterday, but you do recognize her as the lady who runs your butcher shop of choice. You might need to start getting your meat somewhere else.

"Um," you say, voice coming out weaker than you'd like. "Thank you for all this, ma'am. I'm sorry for the trouble."

She waves one hand dismissively as she pulls into your neighborhood. "Don't even mention it, sweetheart. We'll talk more once we're inside."

"But…"

A single firm look shuts you up.

How Noya got to be the way he is with a mom like that, you'll never understand.

"Oh, that reminds me," Noya blurts suddenly. "You don't remember what happened, right?"

You shake your head. "I mostly remember stuff after it… I think? It's all kinda soup right now."

"Shouyo was trying to sync up with Suga-san. He, uh, he managed to hit a spike, but it was a little out."

"A little."

"Just a bit."

"It's kind of impressive. I mean, I knew you guys—or I guess everyone else, you being a libero and all—hit hard, but Hinata's got an arm on him to concuss me like that."

The car slows to a stop as Noya laughs. He seems to be making an effort to be quieter than normal—you appreciate the thought. "Right? Poor Yachi-san's gonna be shaking like a leaf while you're out, though."

"I'm counting on Shimizu-senpai to keep her from getting her head taken off," you reply with a solemn nod, moving to get out of the car.

Noya stops you with a firm hand. "Wait here. I got you."

"I can walk, you know—"

"If the way you got out of the hospital was any sign, not well," he says. He zips out of the car, circles around so fast that anyone else probably would have tripped. You sigh, smiling, as he opens your door for you. "C'mon, let me help you."

"Fine, fine. You're ridiculous, you know that?"

Still, you let him guide you inside, an arm supporting you at the waist. You won't lie—you are really dizzy still. He brings you into the living room, taking slow, careful steps as you pass the kitchen by. Someone's inside, cooking something, based on the sizzle from within, but Noya takes you right on past to sit across from his mom, who's still pretty staunchly silent as she watches this take place.

Out of the context of the butcher shop, she makes you deeply nervous, itching for her approval.

You blurt the first thing that comes to mind.

"I really like your shop. It's always very clean."

She cracks a smile. "Thank you, [surname]-chan. I'm glad to know that one of my regulars thinks highly of the shop."

"And the prices are really good. And you're always really nice, but it doesn't feel forced. I'm sorry that sometimes I buy too much and the meat goes bad. I always feel really guilty when that happens, like I'm insulting the animal it came from and the person I bought it from, not to mention—"

She stifles a laugh. "Honey, it's okay. I'm sorry if I'm making you nervous. To be honest, I've been thinking about your situation since I got the call yesterday, and I'm still not sure what the right thing to do is."

The words your situation send your heart straight into the deepest pits of your stomach. "Oh."

Noya's sat firmly beside you, a small comfort as your anxiety begins to spike. His mom locks eyes with him, jerking her chin toward the kitchen. "Yuu, honey, go help Mei in the kitchen."

"But, Okaa-san—"

"Go help Mei," she repeats.

You have half a mind to run out after him, half a mind to grab his sleeve and beg, Noya-senpai, don't leave me alone with her!, but you know it wouldn't do a thing. Instead, you stare at your lap, willing your bottom lip not to quiver.

"Yuu told me a little bit about your situation," she goes on to say.

That fucking phrase again.

"He didn't tell me much, and he's made clear that you don't want anyone to worry about you, or any sort of special treatment, but I want to make clear: I'm not here to upend your life or force anything on you, but you're safe here. Will you tell me what's going on at home?"

You bite your lip to remind yourself not to cry out the gate. "I'd rather not."

"That's okay. I understand that I'm more or less a stranger to you. I don't need details from you, or a life story. But—look at me—"

You look up at her, teary-eyed.

"—I need to know that if, when you're recovered enough to be left alone, I let you go home, you're going to be safe."

"O-of course!" you say, too quickly even though you're not lying. "I'm going—I'm going to be safe. Even if Otoo-san wanted to—to hurt me, he's never home to do it."

"Do you have everything you need?"

"Yes. He—he gave me a debit card to use and there's always money in the account. I mean, it hasn't declined or anything so far. And I know how to cook and grocery shop. And now that I'm managing for the volleyball club, I've gotten really good at meal prepping. Oh—can I go home sometime tonight or tomorrow? I have curry that I should freeze."

She looks at you with sad eyes. "I can't let you go by yourself, but I can come with you, or you can go with Yuu tonight. Since you'll be staying here for a few nights, we can take the chance to pick up some necessities for you, too."

"Okay. Thank you."

"We'll go after dinner."

"Okay."

"And, listen, [surname]-chan. You are always welcome here, okay? Even if it's perfectly safe at your house, even if you just want to come and play with the cat, you're welcome here."

"Okay."

She watches you another moment. When she leaves the room, she ruffles your hair.

It takes you approximately three seconds after that to break.

~

You've never been so glad to see Noya. He practically runs to your side once he's released, immediately pulling you into a warm hug. You cry into his shoulder, wind your arms around him.

"Sorry. I tried to slip back out here just in case, but Mei literally held me back. She scruffed me like a cat when I tried to leave the kitchen. You would've laughed."

You let out a wet laugh. "Wish I saw it."

"I really am sorry. I know she can be intense, but I swear it's just because she cares."

"She wasn't—she wasn't intense or anything," you admit. "Just—you've got a good mom. She really is cool."

"She is! She's great. What did she do?"

You bury your face in his shoulder in the hopes that it'll muffle your voice a bit. "Just—just motherly stuff, I guess. Asked if I'm safe. If I've got everything I need."

"You are safe at home, right?"

"Yes! I dunno why everyone thinks that—that—"

He strokes your hair as you sniffle, gives you the moment to collect yourself.

"I'm safe," you finish lamely. "I am. I don't like it when people care about me. I dunno what to do with that."

"You're gonna have to get used to that one, unfortunately. The team's worried about you, too, you know? They wouldn't start practice until I gave them the full report."

"Oh great, worry. That's even worse than caring."

"If it bothers you, you're just gonna have to work really hard at resting and accepting the help you're being given so you can get better quicker."

"Okay." You sniffle. "I'll do that."

He holds you closer, holds you until you've calmed down. Stays by your side until dinner's ready, until you're ready to face his family.

~

Mei is weird compared to everyone else at the table. The whole family has showed for this dinner you've intruded on—Satsuki smiles at you when she gets home, whispers an apology when her shouted I'm home! makes you wince. Another sister—the stalker sister, Kaede, if you remember correctly—emerges from a room deeper in the house when called, paint smudged on her cheeks and hands somehow perfectly immaculate. She's lower-key than Satsuki or Noya is, but when you're all sat around the table, she launches right into some debate with Satsuki that their grandfather immediately joins in on, lively and at a lowered volume out of respect for you.

You eat in silence. You'd like to pretend that you're paying attention to whatever heated debate is going on, but it's a little hard to follow past the dull throbbing in your skull. You think maybe the crying made your headache worse.

While the others get lost in some lively conversation or another—Noya going quiet occasionally to check in with you—the sister third just sits there, like you, except you have the excuse of being an active concussion case to justify your silence. She watches you with a nervous look in her eye that doesn't seem to fade whenever you glance back at her.

You can't remember which sister Noya said gets the anxiety attacks—if he said it—but you'd be willing to bet it was Mei.

The one Soba saved.

She won't stop staring at you. On a better day, you might have more tact, but, well, the concussion, so the next time you catch her eye, you stare right back. "Why are you staring at me?"

She jolts, shoulders collapsing in on her. "Sorry. I just… you're Yuu's friend?"

"Uh, yeah." That should be obvious, but you should also be nicer.

"I'm not really, uh, I'm not great at talking to people. But he was saying we'd probably get along, and I was trying to figure out why, but you don't really talk much, so it's hard to get a read on you? But I'm not really great with strangers or anything, and… I mean… d-do you like volleyball? You're a manager in Yuu's club, right?"

A nod. "Yeah. I'm finally kind of at the point where I understand what's going on, and it's fun to watch, but I can't say I'm really good at managing or anything."

"What?" Noya interrupts. "No, you're amazing. What are you talking about?"

You raise an eyebrow. "How have you completely missed the part where I am the single least useful manager? Shimizu-senpai's amazing, Yachi-san's doing all these cool, professional-looking posters and stuff, and I show up. Which I now do not even do, on account of getting hit in the head by a stray ball like it's my first time in the gym."

"I don't wanna hear it from the only reason I passed my final exams."

"Excuse me? I didn't take the exams for you. You did that—and all the studying—yourself. So did Tanaka-senpai, before you bring him up."

"And Shouyo and Kageyama?"

"They took their own exams, too. All of you guys passed because you put in the work."

"You made like, a hundred practice exams. You sent them home after they got their grades back with detailed study schedules. Weren't you, like, adjusting their practice exams to focus on testing the things they got wrong the previous day or something, too?"

"That's nothing. That's literally just like, stuff they probably could have done online if they'd thought about it."

"But they didn't. You did. You don't get to put Yachi-san up on a pedestal just to say you're doing nothing when you factually are—"

You bat at his shoulder playfully. "I literally have a concussion, you're not allowed to argue with me until I'm better."

"Fine, I'll restart this argument the second you're back at school, then," he teases.

You hate him. (You don't.)

You return your attention to Mei. "Sorry, someone likes to fight me."

"When have I ever—"

You reach out blindly, covering his mouth with your hand and smiling at Mei. "But yeah, I don't dislike volleyball, for sure. It's good to get out of the house, and all that. What about you? What do you do?"

Her face brightens a little. "Oh, I'm actually in university! I'm taking a course to become a librarian. It's probably not all that interesting, though, so…"

You lean forward a little, smile encouragingly. When you release Noya's mouth, he has the good sense not to continue the argument. "No, tell me about it. That sounds really cool!"

Bingo. She relaxes into the conversation, starts telling you all about the stuff she's learning, how much more librarians do beyond putting books on the shelf and scanning your library cards. She has a lot to say on the subject, and you don't really follow a lot of it, but you nod encouragingly and try your best. It's not even anything complicated, she's just a little hard to understand through the pounding in your head and the fatigue settling firmly over your body.

When dinner's over, your attempts to help clean are met with no less than six stern looks. You reach for your phone thoughtlessly, which only makes your head pound harder within seconds of checking your notifications.

Right. No screens.

Fine then. You wander into the living room, where Soba greets you with a soft mrrp?.

"Hi, baby," you coo, coming to sit nearby. She's picky about when she likes to be pet, so you don't reach for her, no matter how much you want to. Instead, you sit back and watch her, pushing a cat toy her way as a peace offering. Her eyes lock on, pupils widening as she focuses on the toy.

You have her attention.

By the time Noya finds you, both you and Soba are thoroughly engrossed in her quest to fucking murder this cat toy, and you've only got one new scratch to show for it. For a moment, you can almost ignore the pounding in your head, but then you hear a dish clatter in the kitchen and for just a moment you swear to god it's a gunshot that's perfectly hit you in the forehead.

He crouches beside you, gently takes the toy to distract Soba. "Kaa-san says you wanted to run back by your place to grab some stuff and freeze your curry."

"Y-yeah," you grit out with a nod.

"I was gonna ask if you wanted to go now, but, well…" He nods to you. "You kinda look like your head's about to split open."

"'M fine," you grumble. "Let's go."

"You are actively tearing up."

"What? No I'm not—" Your hand flies to your cheek, and dammit, he's right. "…fine."

"It's okay. Kaa-san's gonna be home with you tomorrow while I'm at school, and she can take you then."

Your lip juts into a pout. "I haven't even done anything today."

"I know, I know. You got Mei to like you, though. That's something!"

"Didn't feel like I was doin' anything."

"C'mon. You can take my room, and I can get you some pajamas from Satsuki or Mei, or you can just borrow some of my clothes. But you should get some rest."

You groan as he helps you to your feet. "Please don't make me make any decisions right now."

"My clothes it is, then. Great! I was hoping you'd say that!"

He guides you down the hall and up the stairs to his bedroom.

"Where're you gonna sleep if I'm stealin' your bedroom?" you mumble.

"We already moved my futon out. This way, you're in the quietest part of the house."

"Really. Your bedroom is the quietest part of the house?" Somehow, you don't believe that for a second.

"Well, when I'm not in it, it is," he grins.

"And you completely dodged the question."

"Well, they've decided that in order to take you in until you're better, someone had to go, so… I'm so sorry, [name]-san. Remember me fondly."

You snort. "They are not kicking you out."

"They're not. My futon's getting laid out near the door so if you need something you can yell."

"Please at least sleep on the couch downstairs or something."

"Absolutely not. When I hit a thousand, I want to already be a man worth marrying you! That means being there when you're hurt!"

You huff. You don't have the energy to fight it, at any rate. "Sure, sure. You know you don't have to do much to be worth me?"

"I'm going to choose to believe you mean that you already think I'm amazing and cool and not that you're trying to put yourself down."

"Believe what you want," you sigh.

Inside his bedroom is surprisingly clean. The Nishinoya family seems to have done plenty of planning for this, so you'd be surprised if there hadn't been a crazed cleanup session to deep-clean his bedroom once they decided that was where you'd be sleeping. Some posters on the wall, one spot where a poster conspicuously used to be, based on the tack still marking the corners of a perfect rectangle in between two others. It's basically exactly what you'd expect if you deep-cleaned a teenage boy's bedroom. Noya leaves your side to rummage his drawers, returning a moment later with clothes for you.

"You're good to get changed by yourself, right? Not too dizzy or anything? I can grab Satsuki—no, bad idea—I can grab Mei if you need some help."

You shake your head. "I'll be okay. The dizzy's way better than it was this morning, 'sjust painful."

"I'll wait outside, then."

You wait for him to close the door behind him before you get changed, stumble a little in the process because you were totally downplaying how dizzy you were, but eventually get yourself into the provided t-shirt and basketball shorts. When Noya returns, he stops short in the doorway, staring at you rather openly as you tug a bit at the shirt.

You raise an eyebrow at him. His cheeks are scarlet as he stares you down.

"Are you sure I'm the one with the concussion?" you ask when you're fed up with the quiet. "You seem to be rebooting."

"Marry me," he blurts again. "I mean—sorry, bad timing probably, but—nevermind—"

"Nine hundred and—huh." You bite your lip thoughtfully, racking your brain, but the focus only makes your head pound worse. "Did you propose at all yesterday? I can't really remember."

"Oh, yeah, nine hundred and twenty times or so. I've just got twenty more to go!"

"Uh-huh. What's the actual count?"

"…nine hundred and forty to go," he admits. "Once with the morning greeting, and I got a couple out when you agreed to help me with the jump set."

"Nine thirty-nine, then," you say as he moves to lay out the futon. As he does, you watch his arms flex appreciatively. Maybe it's the concussion, but you can't quite seem to pull your eyes away. "You know. As thanks for helping me out with everything, and all that."

"Not just because I'm nice to look at?" he pouts.

"Keep dreaming, Casanova."

You allow yourself one last impulse for the night, stopping him on the way out the door. "Hey, Senpai?"

He turns just in time for you to crash into him in a hug. "Wh—"

"Thank you. Seriously. For… for not letting stuff get out with the guys. And taking care of me. And… and everything."

Noya huffs softly, arms wrapping around you in turn. "I got you. You just rest."

You don't need him to tell you twice.

Footnotes

27. Fun fact: I wrote this section by texting myself on discord each of the Reader's individual replies with my glasses off. If a particular exchange seemed too clean, I added one or two to balance it out, keeping in mind this girl is typing with the kind of headache that demands answers from the gods themselves. I like to think I did a decent job of it.

Tags: @deeplightgarden @idonthaveanameideayet @dusstory @kazunish

[haunthouse]

least favorite student at work today: person who came in 15 minutes before we closed, ran directly up to the print desk and plugged their flash drive in without even saying hello or how are you or hi i'm here to print is it okay if i plug my flash drive in. gave me their files to print but hadn't bothered to actually resize them to the size they wanted them printed, and when asked would not tell me what size they wanted, just that 8.5x11 was too big for their postcards and they wanted them THIS BIG [holding their hands up in a very vague way meant to indicate a size smaller than 8.5x11]. additional context is that our printers literally have 2 settings and they're 'scale the image to fit on the page' or 'print at 100% whatever size the image already is' so i could not make it smaller for them. so they ran off and shrunk the images (cool), came back and i got them printing (cool), then ran off AGAIN and i was like "hey i need to ring you up" and they went "no i have another file i need to change the size on." five minutes pass. we are now at 6 minutes to closing. they come back. they drop their file. it's too big for our quick easy printer so i ask them what size they want it to be and they go "idk a2?" and i say "i'm so sorry but i do not know what size a2 is, you have to give it to us in inches" and they say "no i just want a2 size, indesign let me export it as a2 size," and i say "sorry but i am not indesign and i need you to tell me in inches" and they say "it's 430 wide" and i say "four hundred thirty inches???" and they say "no" and refuse to elaborate. we are at 3 minutes to closing. i finally get their massive file to load and it's like 25 inches tall, which is too big for our quick printer. i say "do you want it 25 inches tall" and they say "i want it a2" as if we had not already just had this conversation. they keep giving me looks like i'm the stupid one in this conversation. i say "listen we close in 2 minutes, that is not enough time to print something that big, i could print it at 12x18" for you." my boss goes "just print it it's fine" and i quietly seethe because neither of us should have to stay past the time we're meant to close just because some entitled student refuses to google what size they want their prints to be for ten christian minutes

least favorite student of yesterday was the girl who, when i came into work first thing in the morning after 24 hours of one of the worst migraines ive ever had, was standing at the desk on her phone while 5 people waited in line behind her, blocking the computers people have to put their files on, and i said very politely "hey you know there's a line, right, and it's a bit rude to be on your phone blocking the line" absolutely blew up at me, kept blocking the line for five more minutes, and then CAME BACK LATER after the line had been dealt with to tell me how horrifically rude she thought it was that i said that to her and demanded an apology

[edupunkn00b]

Meus ex Machina, Chapter 12: Working Out

Edited public domain image of two hands reaching for each other, lit in deep blue and neon green.

Prev - Working Out - Next - Masterpost - [ AO3 ]

Logan is determined not to slow down the team again. It wouldn't be the first time he'd pushed his body to the limit.

Logan slipped through the locker room door just before it clanked shut, closing in three dozen or so students in the musky, humid air. "Watch it!" he warned a knot of augmented juniors as they chased past, jostling his safety glasses. His cry went unnoticed over their excited laughter.

He sidled close to the only other full Traditional he could spot, a tall, muscular sophomore. The boy may not have been born with Powers, but he’d certainly clutched a winning genetics lottery ticket on his way into the world.

“Hey, Lo, check it out!” Andrei cheered, lifting his shirt to reveal a translucent implant above his right hip. “Look what my parents got me for my birthday!” Nodding, Logan watched the lights flicker, micro-adjusting his hormone and electrolyte levels. “No more charley horses for me, huh?”

“Indeed,” he murmured. No more leg cramps, no more muscle fatigue. And with a daily boost of somatropin, he’d grow at least another foot and a half before he graduated. “Congratulations.” Logan forced a smile, adjusting his now-fogged eyeglasses. “You will certainly—”

“Alright boys, listen up!” The wrestling coach stepped up onto a nearby bench and whistled. Two freshmen with new hearing augments winced and covered their ears. He waited for the din to lessen and tapped his wrist, activating the ceiling's vid projector. Thanks to Title IV of the Powerds Integration Act, blah blah blah,” he rolled his eyes and two of the older Powerds glared at him. “We’re down to one boy’s team this year with space for five Traditionals.”

Five? Logan's stomach dropped to his feet. There had been fifteen Traditionals in last year’s team plus four alternates. He scanned the room as the coach called out the new team’s roster. Jake and Kirthi high fived behind the coach, reaching nearly his height now with the summer’s growth injections taking effect. Ben stood in the corner, dark shades covering new eyes.

Logan's mouth went dry when he realized he was the last of the Traditionals team who hadn’t yet been augmented. Tim wasn’t there, of course, though Logan saw him from time to time between classes, slouched in his motorized chair, waiting for the school’s singular elevator.

“And… Sanders,” the coach finished. Thirty four sets of eyes whipped over to him and Logan tried to stand a little taller. And tried to ignore the other student’s murmurs.

“It’ll be a good year, Coach,” he said.

Coach Roberts nodded, eyes fixed at a spot just above his head. “Suit up, boys. I want you all out and sparring in pairs in five.” 

Logan kept his eyes trained down and focused on his own preparations as the locker room exploded in activity. Laughter and slamming doors rattled his teeth, the usual scramble to shed street clothes and don stretchy singlets—or, in the case of several boys, trade in for the next size up—no longer lending him its usual energizing buzz.

The day wasn't finished with him yet. With an odd number of Traditionals on the team, it was a simple matter of the math not mathing to require a Traditional to that be paired with a Powered.

Coach Roberts patted Logan’s shoulder as he stepped up to his side of the mat. “Look, Sanders, do your best out there. No-one expects much more than that from you.”

Logan looked up into Coach Robert’s camera-ringed irises. “Y—yes, Coach,” he nodded and turned to face his opponent. The coach had at least tried to give him a chance, matching Logan with a Powered in the same weight class.

But how much did weight class really matter when your opponent’s muscles powered a skeleton stronger than titanium? When your opponent could sense your thoughts, predicting your every move?

He managed to stay on his feet for the first round. Until, at least, his sparring partner grew bored and stopped tamping down on his other abilities. In seconds, Logan was down, face jammed into the mat. He struggled but his opponent countered each twist, each desperate attempt to break free. Finally, Logan tapped out.

The Powered—a new student Logan hadn’t even learned his name—loomed over him. “Good job.” He tonelessly repeated the team’s end of match phrase and looked around for his next partner.

Logan pushed up to his feet and wiped the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand and shook his head. “Best two out of three.”

~

“Time?” Logan panted, controller shaking in his grip as he brought the mech's hands together in the ready signal. He’d boosted the suit’s stabilizers, so from the outside, at least, his durasteel arms moved smoothly. But Logan knew. 

“219.8 seconds. Better,” V smiled encouragingly but the flatness in his tone and the twitch in his eyebrow said it all. Logan still took entirely too long to properly suit up. 

He deflated, leaned to one side in the mech’s cavity. Logan pulled in a shaking breath, fighting to slow his panting, and nodded. “Indeed. Better.” Better but not enough.

"Get your bearings and we’ll go again,” V suggested, still smiling as he passed him a towel. It was only then Logan noticed he was drenched, sweat dripping from his hair and soaking through his shirt.

Logan smiled his thanks—tried to, at least, and V nodded again, a bottle of electrolyte ready. His smile grew, just a bit. He hadn't yet exhausted V's patience. Logan would keep going for as long as he was willing to help him.

V looked up when Patton approached from the kitchen, hugging a large crate to his burly chest. The scents of strawberries and fresh bread and chocolate chip cookies intermingled in the air as he stopped. He shifted the box to one arm to wave at them. “I’m headed, ah…” He waggled his head vaguely toward the hall and Logan’s brow furrowed before understanding struck.

“Is he…” V frowned and swiped across his tablet, searching. Trying not to be obvious, Logan peeked over his shoulder and caught a glimpse of The Muse’s hallway on the screen.

“No, he—nothing’s wrong. Just…” Patton shrugged and looked down at the crate. “After yesterday, I…”

Hesper’s cryptic words from last night filled Logan’s mind. “What makes you think I didn’t trigger your alarms so I could have a little company… just like Re used to?”

“Can I help?” Logan blurted out before looking down at his useless half a hand, his broken body. His face burned, stomach knotted in shame at his utter uselessness.

Patton’s smile was gentle. “Um, that’s okay, Kiddo. I got this.” He didn’t bother to ask how precisely Logan thought he could help in a room he couldn’t reach in his mech. In a room he couldn’t even enter without assistance. Still holding the giant crate of food with one arm, he gently squeezed Logan’s—not the mech’s—shoulder. “But thanks. I’ll let you both get back to your drills.”

He gave them another little wave then headed down the hall. Listening to the elevator door open then swish closed, Logan finished his drink and passed V the empty bottle.

“Ready?” he asked, switching back to his timer.

“Yes.” Logan lowered the mech to a crouch and began to climb out. But Patton's arrival broke the dam on the flood of questions from last night. In his distraction, he nearly fell out of the cavity. “Well… wait.” He met V’s questioning glance. “What did Hesper mean… about The Prince as a little boy? Did he… Did Hesper know him back then?” V scowled down at his tablet but Logan pushed on. “Is that why he called The Muse, ‘Re?’”

Tapping at the screen, V started to speak, then his jaw clamped shut. He let out a slow breath before looking back at Logan. “It’s not really my story to tell. I…” He sighed again. 

For a moment, Logan feared V would try sending him to The Prince with his questions. “Yeah,” V said at last. “Yeah, there’s… there’s a history. You…” V winced and wouldn’t quite meet his eyes. “Maybe ask Silvertongue… um… later, though.” He nodded like it was obvious why he should wait. “You know?”

Was there more to Silvertongue’s outburst last night, too? “I’ll wait,” he promised. “Thank—thank you.” 

“Yeah.” V blew out a short breath and returned his attention to the tablet. “Ready for another go?”

Logan dropped the last foot or so, hitting the ground with a barely muffled groan. He climbed up into his chair, replicating his starting point. “I’m ready,” he said, looking up at the suit.

V stared at him for a long moment. “You know, maybe…” He looked away when Logan tried to meet his eyes, tugging at his sleeves.

“Maybe what?” Logan prompted, bracing himself for what passed for yet another bit of ‘constructive’ criticism.

“Maybe you just need to work on your strength a bit,” he said with a little shrug. “If you want, I could show you how to modify a couple of the machines in the fitness center to—”

“Show me.”

That was how Logan ended up strapped to the pull-up machine in the team’s fitness center, the bright automated trainer chirping out his reps into a sweat-proof earpiece. “And twenty. Good job! You’ve finished your workout—”

“Again!” Logan snapped, tugging at the bar as the platform lowered him to the floor.

“You have completed your recommended three sets of twenty, Logan,” the interface chirped back. Though its tone never changed, Logan couldn’t help but flinch at the sound of his own name. Constructed from heavily modded tech ‘borrowed’ from Abracadabra, the interface sounded just like the old assignment program back at the distribution center. 

“I don’t care. Again!” He batted at the controls with the end of his left stump but the panel went dark.

“I am unable to comply with your request.” The artificial voice switched over to the main speakers when it ended his session, like it wanted a witness. “Please try again tomorrow.”

“You’re better off arguing with the refridgerator, Tin Man,” the Prince chuckled from the corner.

“How long have you been watching me?” Logan snapped, face warm. While the automated trainer didn’t record his strained grunts during his workout, the Prince was the absolute last person he’d want to hear him struggling to do a simple pull-up.

The Prince lifted a barbell packed with 300 pounds on either side. The weight floated up to his chin, before he raised it up above his head and back down to the floor in one perfect, flowing motion.

The weights didn’t even clank when they touched the mat.

“Long enough to see you max out your reps,” he said, barely pausing for his own weight routine. “Hit the showers or something.”

“I’m not done,” Logan muttered, pushing himself off the platform. Fatigued muscles trembling under the strain, he dropped faster than he’d planned, landing with a pained grunt as his hip grazed the base of the pull up machine. 

“Don’t tell me it’s leg day for you.”

“Oh, ha, ha,” Logan muttered, hiding his face until he could control the shameful quiver in his chin. “With wit like that, it’s little wonder you’re the brains of the team. Oh, no, wait—You’re not.”

The Prince shrugged and spared him any further conversation, instead loading on another 100 pound plate to each side of his dumbbell. Shaking his head, Logan pulled himself into his chair and moved to the far corner of the fitness room, keeping as many weight machines between him and The Prince as he could.

When he’d found a suitable place, he lowered himself to the floor again, taking it slowly this time. Laying flat on his back with his chair in front of him, he wedged his thighs between the front and back wheels, bracing his lower body for crunches.

It worked well. For a while, at least. To remain steady, Logan had to tighten his abductors with each crunch, pushing against the wheels to keep them—and himself—from rocking with the movement.

He pushed on, the chair straining against its emergency brakes with each rep. Finally, the brake snapped free and the chair flipped back.

“Fuck.” Logan pounded his fist and the back of his head against the mat and lay back, eyes closed, as he gathered the strength to push the chair upright. With any luck, the Prince had already finished his strongman routine and left the gym.

Logan was not a lucky man.

“Need a hand?”

Logan glared up at him from the floor.

“Oh, shit, yeah…” He shuffled closer, ears tinged pink as he avoided looking at Logan’s stump. “I—I didn’t mean that one. I swear.” He gestured at the overturned wheelchair. “Can I help?”

“I’ve got it,” Logan muttered, pushing up and wiggling closer to the chair. He rolled onto his belly then wormed his way into the gap between the back of the chair and the floor. Once he’d gotten most of his body underneath it, he wedged his right hand under his chest and pushed up sharply.

It took two more tries but finally the chair tilted forward and Logan twisted with it, grabbing the strap criss-crossing the back of the chair to steady it before it tipped completely forward.

“Damn,” the Prince murmured.

“You’re still here?” Logan leaned against the seat back, panting, and in no way ready to either resume his crunches or climb into the chair.

The Prince shifted his weight from side to side, one foot pointed toward the door, the other toward him. Finally, he dropped to the floor and sat about two feet away. Jerking his chin toward the chair, he shrugged. “What were you even doing to knock over that beast?”

Logan eyed The Prince and considered ignoring his question. If he really was that nosy, he could just as easily pull up the security footage and that might be worse than simply hearing about it. Sighing, Logan let his eyes fall closed. “I was using it to brace my… legs for abdominal crunches. The other machine's not built for me.”

The Prince made a little choked sound in the back of his throat. Not a laugh, but…

Eyes still shut, Logan wiggled back into position and prepared himself for another set. If he could increase his core strength, maybe the one-armed pull-ups would get easier faster.

Logan’s eyes snapped open when he felt movement next to him. The Prince had moved closer, knelt on the floor only about a half-foot away, hands laying open on his lap. His expression was unreadable.

“Lay your legs against mine. I’ll brace you,” he said, patting the tops of his thighs and glancing down at where Logan’s legs ended. To the Prince’s credit, the usual mix of pity and disgust flashing over his features didn’t last long.

The Prince waited, holding his gaze until, finally, Logan nodded. He moved a little closer, but let Logan be the one to move close enough to touch and set his legs in place. “May I?” he asked, holding his hands over the tops of Logan’s thighs.

“Go—” Logan cleared his throat, the vulnerability of his position seizing the muscles in his neck. If he'd wanted to, The Prince could pick him up and fling him against the wall and not even break a sweat. “Go ahead,” he finally croaked out. With flat, open hands, The Prince pressed against his legs, holding him in place.

“I’ll let go the moment you tell me to,” the Prince said, then fell silent as Logan resumed his crunches.

He loathed to admit it, but focusing on only one set of muscles made the crunches almost enjoyable. Almost. “This helps,” Logan grunted. “Immensely.” He forced himself up for another two crunches. “Thank you.”

“Anytime,” The Prince replied, repeating his own words back at him from last night's skirmish with Hesper.

Logan pushed out the last of the set and lay back, counting down a thirty second rest period. He lifted up again and silently worked through another set. He slowed as he neared the end, muscles screaming in protest. “Why…" The temptation to ask The Prince about his history with Hesper—and about Re—was great. He shifted to the next question bubbling in his mind instead. "What are you helping me, anyway? I thought… I thought you hated me.”

“I don’t—” The twitch in The Prince’s jaw told Logan he very much did. “We’re a team,” he shrugged at last. “If you’re stronger, we’re all stronger. C’mon, Iron Man, that all you got?" Did Logan only imagine a smile behind his eyes? "Gimme three more.”

[rian-lindley]

Rian had never loved when her husband left for a job. Whenever he was gone her head and heart were filled with worry and longing. While she has still yet to master not pouting upon his departure, Rian had managed to find various ways to fill her time and busy her mind until Guy came home. With him telling her it would be at least a few more days, she decided some pampering was in order.

The next morning she drove into Boston. Stopped and ate breakfast at her favorite diner, sure to take a picture of her bacon and texting it to Guy. Her next stop was to get her nails done, falling into a food coma during her pedicure. She spent the next several hours at the spa, getting treatments and massages until her skin was glowing and her limbs felt like spaghetti. She ate lunch on the go, grabbing a salad and bringing it to the dry bar to eat while she got her hair blown out.

The rest of Rian’s afternoon was spent roaming the city streets, shopping and sightseeing, but mostly shopping. Having lost track of time, her only indicator of how late it had gotten was that by the time she walked out of the last store, it was dark outside. Being a New York City native, navigating Boston had become primarily her husband’s job, since he did most of, if not all, the driving. With the added veil of night, Rian went from directionally challenged to completely inept.

After wandering around for ages, she found what she thought to be the parking garage she had parked in. She skipped the elevator, remembering it being busted when she had arrived, and took the two flights of stairs up to the third floor. Rian thought she heard a second set of footsteps but the parking lot wasn’t that full. Surely it was just the echo of her own sounding off the concrete. She rounded the corner, expecting to see her car a few feet ahead of her but instead, she came face to face with the pavement.

Blood immediately exploded from her nose and pain radiated through her face. For a split second, she thought she had tripped until she felt the kick in her ribs. A yelp of pain escaped her at this impact. Rian tried to push herself up to her hands and knees to crawl away but another blow came to her stomach before she could even steady herself. This time, the wind was knocked out of her and she rolled to her back. She was looking up at the face of her attacker. Bold, to remain unmasked, she thought to herself. Until his fist collided with her already bloodied face. Then all she saw was blackness.

—-

Rian woke up hours later in a hospital bed. Her entire body felt like one big bruise. She brought her hand, which was now the home to an IV, to her face and felt the gauze that was covering it. She sighed and it made her wince in pain. A nurse popped her head in the door and smiled softly. “You’re awake!” Her voice was cheerful and if it wouldn’t have hurt, Rian probably would have glared at her. “Do you remember what happened?”

“Unfortunately.” Rian replied, her voice was hoarse and it hurt to even speak so she didn’t say anything more.

“The officers have been waiting to speak to you, do you mind if they come in?”

Rian nodded her head and soon the nurse’s cheerful demeanor would have been welcomed. The two Boston PD officers who walked in wore solemn expressions.

“Mrs. Lindley, sorry to have to meet you under these conditions. We have a few questions for you. By the time you were found, your attacker was long gone. Do you remember what they looked like? Anything odd about the scene? What were you doing in that parking lot? Do you have any known enemies?”

“Getting in my car, obviously?” Rian said, confused.

“Ma’am, we located your vehicle about three blocks over.” The other officer chimed in and looked at her suspiciously, as if she were lying. This time Rian glared through the pain.

“Jesus Christ, don’t tell my husband that. Okay, I thought I was getting in my car. He was tall, somewhere around six feet. Maybe a little taller. White guy, thirties maybe? Standard build, maybe a little more on the toned side. I wasn’t really checking him out. Strong. Obviously. His hair was dark but short, almost shaved and he had some stubble. I didn’t catch his eye color. Sorry. He was following me, I don’t know how long, I just remember hearing footsteps on the stairs with me.”

The suspicious cop nodded, his expression was impressed now and Rian took note.

“I listen to a lot of True Crime podcasts.” She explained. “This is my first time being one, though. As for enemies…not really?”

“All of your shopping bags and purse were left at the scene. Phone, wallet, your jewelry. We think you were specifically targeted so if you think of anything, let us know. We left our card with the nurse. We’re waiting on some footage from the parking garage security camera and we might have some follow up questions after that. Rest up and have a good night, ma’am.”

The officers gave a curt nod before exiting the room. As Rian watched them leave, it dawned on her that her phone was likely in evidence for now. Thankful again for her morbid obsession, she had her husband’s cell phone number memorized. Reaching for the hospital phone, she dialed the number and hoped he would answer the unknown caller.

“Hello?” A sigh of relief escaped her at the sound of her husband's voice, albeit confused. “Rian?” He asked simply at the sound of her breathing, his tone now concerned.

“Yeah, it’s me. Don’t be mad…”

[cordoleo]

hear ye hear ye — the riverlands welcomes the commander of the king's landing city watch, ruling lord royce caron of nightsong. king matthos baratheon is glad that the thirty - seven year old appears to be steadfast and he shall overlook that it’s said they are also obtuse, as long as they are glad to celebrate peace in the seven kingdoms. fortunately for them, matthos remains oblivious that they are happy with his reign.

i. background.

full name: royce caron ( previously storm ).

commonly goes by: roy.

epitaph: the bastard of nightsong.

official title: knight of the seven kingdoms (c. 279), ruling lord of nightsong and lord of the marches (c. 284), commander of the king's landing city watch (c. 293).

age: thirty seven.

birth date: tba !

gender + pronouns: cis man + he/him.

orientation: unfortunately heterosexual.

allegiance: house baratheon, house caron.

spoken language: the common tongue.

religion: the faith of the seven; particularly faithful to the smith and the warrior.

ii. appearance.

faceclaim: kingsley ben-adir.

eye color: black.

hair color: black, with plenty of gray peeking in around the curls, hair is always kept short, near buzzed; his beard is scruffy, and trimmed weekly so it does not grow further.

remarkable markings: he has several scars from his time in the battlefield, besides one on his shoulder from when he got knicked by a sword during the greyjoy rebellion, and a few facial scars ( more notably, one just under the side of his left eye and one hook-shaped on his right cheek, remaints of a bad jousting injury in his youth ).

dominant hand: right.

height: 6'3"

build: muscular.

iii. personality.

virtues: x

vices: x

weapon of choice: long sword, has yielded a war hammer in his days.

moral alignment: x

inspired by: rolland storm; owain, jasper and henry tudor; charles brandon, duke of suffolk, tba.

common tropes: tba.

iv. relationships.

parents: ronnet caron + maris.

siblings: renyse and utp caron ( younger half - sisters ).

relationship status: widowed; utp utp ( c. 285 / w. 292 ).

children: name (13), name (10), name (8).

previous relations: n/a.

v. biography.

trigger warning : infertility discussion, cheating, parental neglect, death, arranged marriage, implied stillbirth/child death, illness.

once a lordling known for his beautiful voice, ronnet caron settled into the role of ruling lord and all the beauty he carried vanishing, reveal of his unkindness shining through even towards his own wife, whose only sin had been the inability to carry a child to term. fueled by spite more than the need to raise children, he sought out women whom he had dalliances with and put word that he would take in their bastards born from him.

three would be brought to nightsong — roy was the first. born to a lady's maid that was made to live under the roof of her mistress despite the betrayal enacted by them, maris did not last long. roy grew by himself, knowing to keep only to himself and out of both stepmother and father's way, until the second bastard would arrive. renyse would akin herself to a moon, but roy found her light to be one he very much needed. together, they yet took care of the third bastard brought to nightsong.

that was until matthos baratheon's war was won, and opportunity arose for kids of the stormlands to follow their liege to king's landing. roy half volunteered, half was offered by ronnet to be sent as a squire — a knighthood would serve to at least give him a prospect better than just the bastard of nightsong, whose father held little interest on after the affront was made. while he may have thought of the possibility of joining the kingsguard or the city watch when he'd become of age, the king instead took him under his wing, favoring the boy above most of the others. under matthos' guidance, he grew bold, strong and capable, seeing in the king a father he had never had; the sentiment would become one of the pinnacles of his life from then on, and his loyalty would belong to matthos above all.

when the greyjoy rebellion came, both roy, just entering adulthood, and his father, graying and bitter, joined the war efforts for the stormlands. while roy prevailed, finding his calling on the battlefield, his father fell; he'd be sent to nightsong with an infection that would be fatal, nothing to be done. nothing but to sign papers for legitimacy for roy and his two half-sisters, who would rise to the position of actual nobility and granted the opportunity to mingle, take official positions and marry just as well as any noble born.

roy's marriage, however, would only come to happen for necessity, from the ruined coffers of nightsong, left ravaged by war and his father's spending. from his wealthy, high-born bride, he found harmony, a competent ruling lady, and a mother to three of his children — would be four, had she not been taken by illness before the babe was to come. the offer of another marriage was refused, and, instead, the king saw to give him distraction in the form of a new position: the head of the city watch from king's landing.

for a good while, it was a good distraction but, unfortunately, it also exposes him to the worst of mathos' reign — attempted briberies, people stealing so they will not starve and getting punished for it, watching the lannisters taking over the city, even within his own men's ranks. though his position has grown to be enviable enough that people only refer to him as the bastard out of jealousy rather than disdain, he has begun to wonder if it is best to continue to remain blissfully ignorant and loyal to his liege or speak and suffer the consequences for it.

[leslie-redirects-here]

Roman Numerals Crash Course

As the name suggests, Roman numerals are a numbering system devised by the ancient Romans. Unlike the Hindu-Arabic numerals most commonly used by English-speakers, Roman numerals do not use a decimal system and do not have individual symbols for numbers 0 - 9. Instead, Roman numerals have a small set of symbols that are combined to make a specific number.

Think of the way we write English. The alphabet we use - funnily enough, called the Latin alphabet, though that's misleading - doesn't have a symbol for every word. Instead, we have a set of letters that we then combine to make whatever word we want. It's similar with Roman numerals: you mash them together to make any number that doesn't have its own individual symbol.

Because every suit in a typical tarot deck has fewer than thirty cards, we only need to worry about the first three Roman numerals: I, V, and X.

I = 1 V = 5 X = 10

Let's use the Major Arcana as an example. The first card in the suit is The Fool, who either doesn't have a number or is the number 0. The first numbered card in the suit is The Magician.

The Magician's number is one, so the card is numbered I.

The second numbered card in the Major Arcana is The High Priestess; this card is numbered two. But in Roman numerals, there is no symbol for two. So how is two written? By adding one and one: II.

The same goes for The Empress, numbered three: we add one plus one plus one to get III.

So far so much like tally marks. Four must be four ones, right? Wrong! That'd be too easy or something. Never let it be said the ancient Romans did anything linguistic or numerical the easy way. No, we only do addition for one, two, and three. For four we switch over to subtraction. This is kind of confusing, but bear with me.

Right. So the symbols we have at our disposal are I (1) and V (5). We've already written II (2) and III (3), so now we're only one more number away from the next individual symbol we've got: V (5). So instead of taking four of the smaller symbol (I) and adding them together, instead we're going to take the larger symbol (V) and subtract one from it.

How do we show we're doing subtraction, though? Well. In the same way that there's no + symbol for II or III, there also isn't a - symbol for this next one. What matters is the order the numerals are written in. Numerals of equal value written side-by-side are added together. If a smaller numeral is written to the left of a larger numeral, the smaller numeral is subtracted from the larger one. If a smaller numeral is written to the right of a larger numeral, then the smaller numeral is added to the larger one. Make sense? No? That's fine; it's confusing. We need some more examples.

To get four, we're going to subtract one from five. To do that, we have to write the one to the left of the five: IV.

And that's how we get IV for The Emperor, numbered four:

The next card, The Hierophant, is numbered five, and fortunately five has its own symbol: V.

And now for The Lovers, numbered six! For six we need a five and a one, and for addition we need the smaller numeral to the right of the larger numeral, so for six we get five plus one: VI.

We follow the same pattern to get seven, The Chariot: five plus one plus one, with the smaller numerals to the right of the larger numeral so we know to add them all together: VII. Same for eight, Strength: five plus one plus one plus one, the smaller numerals to the right of the larger numeral: VIII.

And we are on a roll!

But now! We are once again coming up to a new symbol: X (10). The same as before (the rules for Roman numerals are, if confusing, at least consistent), for the last number before the new symbol, we are going to do subtraction instead of addition. And to do subtraction, we write the smaller numeral to the left of the larger numeral. In this case, to get nine for The Hermit, we need to subtract one from ten, so we're going to put a one to the left of the ten, like so: IX.

We're doing it!

The Wheel of Fortune is numbered ten, and since ten has its own symbol we don't need to do any addition or subtraction, it's just X.

We can keep following the pattern to get eleven for Justice (ten plus one: XI), twelve for The Hanged Man (ten plus one plus one: XII), and thirteen for Death (ten plus one plus one plus one: XIII).

But what about fourteen? There is no symbol for four, and the last time we made four we did it by using subtraction. So how are we going to use subtraction to get four while also using addition to get fourteen?

My children: we are going to use addition and subtraction at the same time.

To make this a little easier, we're actually going to make fifteen and sixteen before we tackle fourteen. Just roll with it.

Let's look at the rules real quick one more time: if two numerals of the same value are written next to each other, we add them together. If a smaller numeral is written to the left of a larger numeral, we subtract the smaller one from the larger one. If a smaller numeral is written to the right of a larger one, we add them together. And now we're going to add one more rule: subtraction comes before addition.

The numerals we have at our disposal are I (one), V (five), and X (ten). Using these, we can get fifteen by adding ten and five, putting the five to the right of the ten so we know we're adding: XV.

To get sixteen, we need ten plus five plus one. Since we're doing addition we need the smaller numerals to the right of the larger numerals. The largest numeral is ten (X), so that one comes first, furthest on the left. Five (V) is larger than one (I), so next comes five (V), and since one (I) is the smallest it goes furthest right. So sixteen, ten plus five plus one, is: XVI.

And now we're going to do fourteen.

To get four, we subtract one from five. Since we want to subtract, we put the smaller numeral to the left of the larger numeral: IV.

To get fourteen, we add four to ten. Since we want to add, we put the smaller numerals to the right of the larger numeral: XIV.

Here's the thing. XI is ten plus one, which is eleven, right? And if you have XIV, wouldn't that be ten plus one plus five, which is sixteen?

Nope. That does make sense, but that's not how the ancient Romans rolled. Because remember: subtraction comes before addition. So smaller numerals are subtracted before they're added. If you have XIV, ten one five, the one is subtracted from the five and not added to the ten, because subtraction comes first.

Another way to remember is: in theory, yes, you could write sixteen as either XIV or XVI. But the only way to write fourteen is XIV. So XIV has to be fourteen, because there are no other options.

(If it's still confusing or you're not sure you'll be able to remember, that's fine. The more you look at your tarot cards, and the more often you practice using Roman numerals, the easier it will be.)

So! To get fourteen for Temperance, we subtract one from five and get four (IV) and then add that to ten: XIV.

Like we've already seen, fifteen for The Devil is ten plus five (XV), and fortunately the next three numbers are also only addition: sixteen for The Tower is ten plus five plus one (XVI), seventeen for The Star is ten plus five plus one plus one (XVII), and eighteen for The Moon is ten plus five plus one plus one plus one (XVIII).

But what about nineteen for The Sun? Ten plus nine, right? Except the way we wrote nine before was one subtracted from ten. Are we going to write nine that way again?

Yep! Nineteen is ten plus nine, and nine is one subtracted from ten. So we start with ten (X), and add one subtracted from ten (IX), giving us: XIX.

Judgement is numbered twenty, and there is no individual symbol for twenty. In the same way that two is one plus one, so also twenty is ten plus ten: XX.

The final card in the Major Arcana is The World, numbered twenty-one. This one, too, is just addition: ten plus ten plus one, so XXI.

And there we have it! Roman numerals for all the Major Arcana!

Below are some cheat sheets (both text and image).

If you're interested in numbering systems, and how what numbers we had at our disposal has affected machines and technology, I really strongly recommend reading Code: The Hidden Language of Computer Hardware and Software by Charles Petzold.

0 N/A zero 1 I one 2 II two 3 III three 4 IV four 5 V five 6 VI six 7 VII seven 8 VIII eight 9 IX nine 10 X ten 11 XI eleven 12 XII twelve 13 XIII thirteen 14 XIV fourteen 15 XV fifteen 16 XVI sixteen 17 XVII seventeen 18 XVIII eighteen 19 XIX nineteen 20 XX twenty 21 XXI Twenty-one

N/A 0 zero I 1 one II 2 two III 3 three IV 4 four V 5 five VI 6 six VII 7 seven VIII 8 eight IX 9 nine X 10 ten XI 11 eleven XII 12 twelve XIII 13 thirteen XIV 14 fourteen XV 15 fifteen XVI 16 sixteen XVII 17 seventeen XVIII 18 eighteen XIX 19 nineteen XX 20 twenty XXI 21 Twenty-one

Learning tarot | Daily Tarot so far | the Rider-Waite deck | the Aquarian deck | Tarot crash-course | Tarot vocab | main blog