#plot is revving up!

[holdyourbreathfornow]

Chapters: 2/7 Fandom: Trigun Stampede (Anime 2023), Trigun (Anime & Manga 1995-2008) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Vash the Stampede/Nicholas D. Wolfwood, Meryl Stryfe/Milly Thompson, Millions Knives & Vash the Stampede (Trigun), Tesla & Vash the Stampede (Trigun), Roberto & Vash the Stampede (Trigun), Roberto & Milly Thompson, Roberto & Meryl Stryfe, Legato Bluesummers/Millions Knives (one-sided), Livio the Double Fang & Nicholas D. Wolfwood, Elendira the Crimsonnail & Meryl Stryfe Characters: Vash the Stampede (Trigun), Millions Knives (Trigun), Tesla (Trigun), Roberto (Trigun Stampede), Milly Thompson, Meryl Stryfe, Nicholas D. Wolfwood, Livio the Double Fang (Trigun), Elendira the Crimsonnail (Trigun) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, The Plants are AI, The humans live on a spaceship, Knives isn't the villain, Canon-Typical Violence, Brainwashing, I guess???, Roberto is Milly's Uncle, harrassment, Stalking, world building, Other Additional Tags to Be Added Series: Part 1 of Trigun Artificial Intelligence Summary:

On a ship travelling through space, Vash is saddled with the task of ensuring the humans onboard are happy and safe.

When he gets involved in a rebellion happening on the ship, and his siblings are corrupted by a virus, he has to figure out what the right thing to do is without going against his own programming.

[xanfeursel]

are we rockin with baby's second attempt at an evil durge run

[tokyo-daaaamn-ji-gang]

TUMBLR'S FAVOURITE TOKYO REV CHARACTER ROUND 1 BONUS ROUND: RESURRECTION!

There are two extra spots up for grabs in round 2 so to fill them I've gathered the 10 character's who lost the first round by the least during their match ups, vote for your favourite and the top 2 will advance to round 2, it's a second chance!

[spock-adoodledoo]

oh my god i just finished the dark forest finally. 7/10 i suppose, i went through the first half or so of the book being really annoyed by luo ji but also enjoying the chapters where he shows up because unfortunately he was entertaining. still don't understand the imaginary girlfriend thing, it just feels like he needs someone to protect from the world which like ??? ok sure i guess, it just rubs me the wrong way personally. for the second half and especially the end i became luo ji's number one defender it's fine. for the rest, holy crap—the droplet, the microcosm of the universe on those runaway ships, the wallfacer project, luo ji drawing from rey diaz's plan, the attitude of the world towards him, the entire theory... wow

[reverie-starlight]

thanks for the tag... What's the weirdest plot bunny you've ever had? Bonus points if you never wrote about it

OOOOOH okay so I actually don’t think I have too many, because once I get an idea that I get really excited abt, I’ll write down the concept in my notes app and then start it asap, OR I’ll just do it in one sitting.

I’d say the most recent one that got published that I had thought about a concerning amount was the kuroo bday fic I wrote for 2023!! I got the idea and I had to start it immediately. It’s not a weird one tho I don’t think.

Currently I’m thinking of this one specific scenario for kaiser from blue lock that I really need to write, but again it’s not that weird…

honestly the weirdest ones I’ve had will never see the light of day because they’re. so extremely self indulgent back from when I was in high school. Peter Parker and PJO crossover with a self insert type of self indulgent. I wrote three versions of that during quarantine and never finished any of them LOL

(They’re still sitting in my notes app to this day and I reread them sometimes)

I also have multiple hyper-specific haikyuu fics sitting in my notes app from 2020-2021 that I’ve been debating giving snippets of on here. I’ll never finish them bc I personally don’t like writing the high school setting anymore, I usually stick to the time skip, but they’re a lot of fun imo.

[giantroboticplatypusbutt218]

I have polls now and nobody's made this one yet so I decided to do it.

[kookoofufu]

I love Oda but man is INSANE for not making the timeskip more relevant to the straw hats outside of power ups

Brook: Literally a rockstar??? There should have been a running gag where people ask Brook for his autograph at every island they visit! It would be so funny if some villains were starstruck fans trying to keep it together during a fight!

Sanji: It would have been great if the newkama recipes came up more than once. There could have been a gag where Sanji stops in the middle of a battle to literally cook a power up for the crew. Imagine this man dicing onions in Onigashima, force-feeding Zoro a stew during his fight with King

Robin: She worked under Dragon for two years, met Sabo and Koala and maybe Ivankov, she probably knows the Army's entire plan to take down the gov and yet it never comes up! Does she know about Kuma? Nika? The five elders? Does she secretly communicate with the Rev Army????

Zoro: I love the idea of Perona teaching Zoro about fashion. It wouldn't have plot relevance but imagine him busting out some fashion tips out of nowhere every so often.

I'd love to hear more ideas, the missed opportunities here haunt me.

Edit: link to ongoing collection of headcanons since some people only see the first four ideas

[thehmn]

Just read a perfectly fine fanfiction that took place in Germany but something that stood out to me was a chapter where the characters walk across a field and is approached by the farmer yelling at them to get off his land.

I’ve come across this plot point a few times and I feel like it’s worth telling writers that most of Europe has some version of Right To Roam. The laws aren’t the same in every country but generally you’re allowed to walk and rest on private property like fields and forests so long as you don’t destroy crops or leave trash, but not gardens or fenced in areas. Depending on the country you also have the right to pick mushrooms, berries, nuts and other edible things in forests but without chopping trees down or breaking branches. The owner of the land might put up a sign asking you to follow certain guidelines like no horses or keeping your dog on a leash but but there’s no real repercussions to not following the rules besides the owner eventually fencing the area off so people can’t enjoy it anymore.

I’ve personally walked around on a field while the farmer was harvesting potatoes with his big ass machine and collected the leftovers while my dog was trotting calmly besides me and he looked straight at me and didn’t care one bit because Denmark also has an old tradition of letting people collect what’s left as a form of charity (for my fellow Danes, that’s what “rev vi marken let, det er gammel ret, fuglen og den fattige skal også være mæt” means in the song Marken Er Mejet) This is just a tradition and not a law however so it depends on the farmer.

The very north of Europe like Norway and Sweden even give people the right to put up tents and camp on other people’s private land (except gardens and such). Again, the laws vary from country to country but as a rule of thumb you have more right to roam the further north you go and less the further south but if you want to write in a specific country look up the laws there.

[logaenhowlett]

THE WHOLE WIDE WORLD IN HER HANDS - L.H.

Summary: After months of watching you relentlessly try to gain control of your powers, Logan finally takes matters into his own hands.

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Female Reader

Warnings: Fluff - so much damn fluff, Slight angst, Language

A/N: Suffering from writer's block on a plot-driven angsty Logan fic so I wrote this to focus on something else. Shout out to End by Frank Ocean. Enjoy!

MASTERLIST

“You’ve been going at it for hours.”

His voice makes you pause, shifting your concentration to the man leaning against the door frame. Logan watches as you swing your head down, possibly frustrated by his interruption.

“Professor said I’d get better at this,” You swipe the sweat off your face, grabbing your drenched shirt as it clings to your skin, “It’s been months and I'm nowhere near strong enough.”

He huffs in amusement, he would often catch you in moments like these, tiring yourself hour after hour till you were exhausted enough to finally pass out. It reminds him of his early days at this place. Young and eager to prove himself to everyone here, that he was capable of being good once again.

“Old man doesn’t know what he’s talkin’ about.” A measly attempt to shut down your self-deprecation, he knows nothing will convince you otherwise, that much he learned over the last few times he tried reasoning with you. When you shoot him a questioning glance, he relents, raising his hands up in defense. “Alright. But you’re not doing any good wearing yourself to the bone.”

“I just want to be like Storm and Scott and you.” 

“Well, if that’s the case, the bar ain’t that high.” A teasing grin shining as he approaches you, the annoyed expression on your face does little to stop him. “Come with me.”

“What?”

He chuckles at your confusion, wandering dangerously close into your personal space. “I wanna show you something,” He murmurs.

Flirting isn’t a new concept to him at all. Though you never get used to his attempts, always brushing it off with the assumption that it’s just a game.

“Logan - I need to keep practicing.” You take a few steps back, creating a little distance from his very distracting presence. “It’s the only way I’ll get better at controlling this.”

“Okay.” He drags out, “You can still keep doing this when we come back.”

As you contemplate his request, he knows he has you convinced, a grin tugging on his lips. “Come on. It’ll be fun.”

When he leads you to the mansion's garage, you recall all the times he'd whisked you away from moments of misery and fatigue. He seemed to have this innate ability to know when you're in over your head, too absorbed into whatever you were doing to take a step back and relax. A tinge of embarrassment creeps into your thoughts, feeling bad for him to constantly keep checking in as if you were incapable of knowing your limits. Fuck, I'm a mess. You snap yourself from going down the negative route, shifting your focus to Logan, a chuckle escapes you.

“You know he hates it when you steal his bike, right?”

He swings a leg over, revving the engine. The sound seems to unintentionally comfort you, your mind having subconsciously associated it with him. Despite Scott being the owner of vehicle, he rarely saw it since it was Logan’s choice of transportation. Fucking dickhead, he used to curse up and down, unwillingly giving up after Charles reasoned with him one too many times. You remember the entire ordeal, having to intervene during one of their many childish fights when Scott attempted to blow up Logan’s ass.

“I’ll fill up the tank.”

“No, you won’t.” A short laugh leaves you as you wrap your arms around him.

He flashes a smile, tilting his head back to ensure you’re properly seated. “No, I won’t.”

You hardly pay attention to his driving, instead mindlessly watching the scenery zip past. It wasn't the first time Logan had taken you on a ride. In fact, after the initial fear, you had grown fond of this time you got share with him. A quiet and peaceful journey where you could turn your restless mind off and simply enjoy each other's company. An unspoken vow of trust had always lingered between you two, which was something he cherished more than he could ever express. He smiles softly at the weight of you resting on his back as the breeze encompasses around you.

“How’d you even find this place?” You ask, sliding off the seat as he kicks the stand.

“Used it for shelter during that snowstorm a while ago. The bike gave out on me.”

You hum in response, spinning on your feet to look around. It's an abandoned gas station that had definitely seen better days. Despite all the damage and vandalisation, it was an oddly interesting location, a lake nearby overlooking lush fields. Nothing in Logan's expression gives away his intention of bringing you here. He slowly steps backwards, a hint of a smirk tugging his lips and when he's a decent distance away, “Hit me.”

“What?”

“Use your power, sweetheart. Don’t be scared, you can do it.” It's rather encouraging and not at all akin to his usual cocky tone.

“Logan - what, no!” You exclaim, finding his proposal ridiculous. “I’m not - I can’t even fully control it. What if I hurt you?”

He scoffs, amused you could even suggest such a thing, “Well, you’re gonna have to control it, aren’t ya?” When you make no attempt to try, his gaze softens, “I can take it.”

You take a deep breath, channelling your focus to create a ball of energy between your hands. Despite being small, it hits him with enough force to push him back a few steps. A groan leaves him as he clutches his stomach, you shift to run towards him but he lifts his hand, making you stop.

“Again. Don’t hold back.”

This time you think of Charles, remembering all the lessons and training sessions you've had with him. Where you had always doubted yourself, he had constantly reassured you and your ability to control your gift. The ball of energy grows more between your hands, crackling with intensity. Using all your might, you aim at Logan once again, hitting him square in the chest, thrusting him back several feet, the impact denting the ground in the process. He stands up feeling a bit lightheaded, though that sensation disappears as he flexes his muscles, grateful for his healing factor.

“I did it!” You laugh in surprise, running to him.

His arms immediately wrap around you, slightly lifting you off the ground. “You did it,” He says with a faint smile, taking in your satisfaction.

Caught up in moment of finally making progress, you notice the lack of space between Logan and you. And suddenly, his hands on your waist, his tender expression, it all becomes too much, making you pull back. “You’re insane. That could’ve gone so wrong,” You spit out, trying to relieve some tension.

“I trust you.” He whispers, softly.

Your body seems to be on fire, everything about this begins to overwhelm your senses. With a shaky breath, you try stepping away from his gentle grip.

“Why do you always run from me?” His words still your movements. His eyes can't seem to find yours, instead settling on the charred ground beneath him, "I know… you feel this too.”

“I’m - I don’t…”

“Let me in, sweetheart. I won’t run away.” He approaches you, giving you the space to reject his advances. ”I promise.”

When you don't respond, he hangs his head low, accepting your decision. “Let’s go home,” He mumbles.

As you walk down the hallway to your room, you can't seem to shake the urge to run back to him. You take a moment, hand grasping your doorknob before you spin around. Within seconds of knocking on his door, he swings it open catching your distinct heartbeat on the other side.

“Logan - I just…” The words die on your tongue. Every little feeling you'd held for him comes rushing forward. As he stands there, growing concerned for your wellbeing, all you can think about is kissing him till the air leaves your lungs.

“You okay?”

That's enough for you to slam into him. You grab the collar of his white shirt, pulling him down. Your lips find his own, slowly moving against the soft flesh. It takes him less than a second to comprehend what's happening before he reciprocates your actions.

You tilt your head back, inhaling his comforting scent. He continues peppering kisses on your face, unable to stop once he finally got a taste. “I'm sorry, I was scared. I am scared,” You whisper.

“I know. But I’m here for you. I’m always gonna be here for you.” He murmurs against your lips, “If you let me.”

Your smile sends flutters to his heart. His low chuckle echoes within you as he leans down, capturing your lips with a hunger he'd suppressed for as long as he could remember. When your moan teases his senses, he lifts you with ease, one arm securing your waist and the other gently stroking the underside of your thigh. He lowers you down onto the bed, noting your exhaustion from earlier. Sliding right next to you, he presses a light kiss on your temple, pulling you into his warm embrace. A silent promise that he'll never let you go.

[ferrstappen]

SLUT! l MV1 imagine

a/n: hey! I’m alive, I hope some of you are alive as well and willing to read something 💘 this is short and just a random idea I had before diving into writing some longer pieces with more plot, but I really hope you like it and as you know, feedback is very very welcome!!! Also I’m sorry if it’s weird or any mistakes bc I wrote this on my phone 💘

Summary: this isn’t your first time being a WAG, but people don’t seem to like the idea of you ending your relationship with Joe Burrow and falling in love with Max.

Looking around, you could tell that this wasn't an ordinary place. The sound of engines revving, the vivid colors of various vehicles, and the hustle and bustle of multiple teams, engineers, sponsors, drivers, and fans walking around the paddock all added to the excitement. It was a truly remarkable sight to behold. The energy was palpable, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of awe taking it all in.

In your previous relationship, your boyfriend would make grand entrances at the stadium, sporting his fancy Cartier sunglasses and jamming to his favorite tunes. He wouldn't pay much attention to the photographers snapping away as he strolled past them, and you'd catch a glimpse of him from afar in a lavish suite. That was quite a contrast to your current situation, which you're still adjusting to.

You were greeted by a well-dressed individual who was sporting the logos of Red Bull, Oracle, and Honda all over their outfit. They handed you a VIP all-access paddock pass which had your name and headshot printed on it, along with details of whose guest you were. To top it off, they also put a Red Bull credential on your wrist. The assistant then guided you towards the power station, where you were hopping to finally catch Max after weeks of not seeing each other.

You never meant to be in this position. You were in a happy, stable, loving relationship, truly. But last year one night in Las Vegas, your boyfriend, Joe, was invited to the Las Vegas Grand Prix, and of course, you both attended, curious and excited about the event. Neither of you knew it would be the beginning of the end.

Your first meeting with Max was captured on camera.

Max and Joe, the reigning Formula 1 champion and the Cincinnati Bengals quarterback together was gold content for the Red Bull socials, and there you were in the back, knowing your place smiling at the interaction, but when you were least expecting it, the champion stretched his hand and introduced himself, catching you and your boyfriend off guard.

As soon as he spoke, I noticed his friendly yet polite tone. "Hi, I'm Max," he introduced himself with a warm smile. His simple gesture of introducing himself made him instantly likable and set him apart from the others in the crowd.

“Hi Max, I’m (y/n). Thanks for the invitation,” you shook the hand that wasn’t holding a can of Red Bull.

“Right. Max, this is my girlfriend. She’s the happiest here because she’s a Red Bull addict,” Joe added, earning a soft laugh from you and a smile from Max.

“Then you came to the right place, (y/n). The mini fridges are all yours, and I’m pretty sure the ones on the second floor have limited editions,”

You thought that was all you were going to see of him, barely catching him after his win to congratulate him, but oh were you wrong, seeing him with a warm gray pull-up hoodie and styled blond hair, sipping gin and tonic and waving his hand as people chanted his name to the tune of a song.

Tu Tu Du Du, Max Verstappen

Or something along those lines.

The moment he recognized you, a sudden rush of excitement and anticipation sent a buzz through your stomach that was impossible to ignore. You felt a mixture of nervousness and elation as he leaned in for a short cheek kiss, the scent of gin lingering on your nose as you briefly noticed the small mole on his upper lip. Despite the presence of your boyfriend standing behind you, you couldn't help but feel a flutter of emotions inside.

“I heard you ransacked the energy station,” A drunk Max Verstappen told you.

“What do you mean?” Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and at the same time you felt Joe’s arms tight around your waist.

“There weren't any Red Bulls left on the building after you left, maybe I'll have to send a PR package your way,” Max slurred, taking a new sip from his gin and tonic glass.

You couldn’t answer because Joe was faster: “we’ll sure enjoy that, thank you. Wanna go mingle, babe?”

That was almost five months ago as you made your way in sunny Melbourne, doing your best to avoid prying eyes who were aware of the events that took place last November and how you left Joe Burrow the quarterback for Max Verstappen the racing driver.

But it’s not like you wanted to.

After the first box full of sugar free Red Bull arrived with a note, you left a message on his Instagram before posting a story, tagging him and the team.

The he started sending silly memes, followed by the description of the Red Bull ingredients written in Arabic while on Abu Dhabi.

In February, things had reached a point where it was impossible to ignore any longer. You knew it was time to end things with Joe, and when you did, it felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. Suddenly, you were free to do as you pleased, to go where you wanted to go. And so, when Max invited you to go to Bahrain for testing, you jumped at the opportunity.

It was on this trip that you experienced your first date with Max. You both had such a great time together, laughing until your stomachs hurt. You tried your best to hold back your wandering eyes, but you couldn't help noticing the adorable mole on his lip. And then, when the night sky had blanketed the Middle East, he leaned in and kissed you, sending shivers down your spine. It was a magical moment that you would never forget.

But the next day, your first day on the track, a random person recognized you and rumors went crazy, name-calling, attacks, fans carrying signs “What happened with #9”, grown men calling you a bitch, a whore, a gold digger, jumping from one dick to another. It was so much that Max decided to send you to his home in Monaco, not even caring if you were there for the first Grand Prix of the season, he just needed you to be okay.

As you walked towards the energy station, the ground beneath your feet felt firm, yet your steps were hesitant and shy. You were not alone, though, as someone from the team was following your every move, as per Max's orders. The team wanted to ensure that you were safe and secure as you made your way towards the Red Bull hospitality. Once you arrived, a collective sigh of relief was released, and you waited patiently for Max to arrive. The anticipation in the air was palpable as everyone eagerly awaited his arrival.

You vividly remember that moment when he finally arrived at the paddock, dressed in his Red Bull shirt, shorts, and cap, looking so handsome and sporty. You couldn't help but rush towards him, feeling a surge of excitement and joy. As you hugged him tightly, he smiled and hummed softly, clearly enjoying your touch and warmth. You noticed that he was trying to register your scent, perhaps to make the moment even more intimate and memorable.

You knew he was about to lean in for a cheek kiss, but something inside you urged you to do something bolder and more passionate. So, without hesitating, you turned around, making sure his larger frame was facing the outside, away from prying eyes. Then, you carefully grabbed his face with both hands, feeling his strong jawline and stubble under your fingers. You looked deeply into his eyes, savoring the moment, before leaning in and kissing his full lips.

The kiss was electrifying and unexpected, taking him by surprise, but he quickly responded with equal passion and tenderness. You felt his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you closer, as you lost yourself in the blissful moment. It was a moment of pure connection and love, one that you would always treasure in your heart.

Despite being called all sorts of names by people, you refused to let it get to you. You were determined to continue showing your deep admiration and affection for Max, no matter what others thought or said. You believed that your feelings were genuine and authentic, and you were not going to let anyone else's opinion sway you. Despite the challenges and obstacles you faced, your love for Max remained unwavering and waiting to grow bigger.

[where-does-the-heart-lie]

Sabo analysis time!!!!

Do you guys ever think about how Sabo didn't visit Dressrosa to see Luffy again? And him meeting up with Luffy was probably his very last option to secure the fruit, otherwise he would probably avoid it? Cuz i do…

Let me elaborate.

So here's what we know from the source material:

We know Sabo and the other revolutionaries were there since the early morning since Hack was already inside the coliseum for RevArmy snooping reasons.

The prize of the Tournament was revealed after the Revs were already there.

Sabo/Koala were not in contact with Robin to know if the straw hats were anywhere near Dressrosa as seen by Koala saying "I hear Robin-san’s here in this country, too."

Sabo confronted Luffy about getting the Mera-Mera No Mi only after Hack lost during Block B and Luffy got out of his own block.

I had always assumed that Sabo showed up to Dressrosa for the Mera-Mera No Mi and meeting Luffy, but that really isn't the case. Idk why it took me so long to figure that out, it’s literally shown in the Episode of Sabo (EOS) explicitly. Although, the EOS isn't exactly source material. I cant find anywhere stating whether its canon or not, but I cant find anything that would have it conflict with the original plot so i see no reason why it wouldn’t be. All that evidence from before is canon though so even without the EOS, this claim still holds water.

Speaking more of the evidence we have from of the episode of Sabo, we see him snooping around the Colosseum during the tournament, we see the moment he realizes that Luffy is participating in the event, and we see the moment he realizes that Luffy cant participate any further.

Like look at him here. He looks absolutely unprepared for what he knows he has to do. And after this in the scene right before he starts talking with Luffy, he’s like literally walking to him as slowly as he possibly can. Taking pauses in his stride to probably think about how much of a bad idea this is.

Plus, at the beginning of the episode when he’s visiting Ace’s grave, he says “I guess both you and Luffy are both mad at me.”

Sabo has had so many opportunities to meet up with Luffy before he actually does, both in Dressrosa and since he regains his memory. But he doesnt. Because he cant. Because he’s terrified of being met with scorn, anger, or even violence from his beloved little brother.

Finally, we see him plucking up the courage to walk over to luffy. All surroundings are silent besides the loud footsteps coming from his approach echoing in the hallway.

Step. Step. Step. Step. Step. Step. Step. Step.

Then he stops.

Its dead quiet.

Sabo has been pretty much deadpan this entire time, but he then smiles before he says

“I wont let you have the Mera Mera No Mi, ‘Straw hat’ Luffy.”

This is a fairly serious thing that he’s saying to this man in a fake beard and outrageous helmet, and he’s terrified of this meeting with his brother, but he cant help but smile when he’s talking with him.

The conversation that continues is very confrontational, but suddenly something clicks in Luffy’s mind. His body relaxes from it’s tense posture, he starts to tear up, his speech slows,

Then he starts to scream with recognition.

That’s his big brother.

He’s alive…

He’s Alive!!!

He’s here! Right here! Right where he should be!

Alive. Living. Free!

Luffy GRABS Sabo’s face and propels himself towards him. Suffocating and probably giving his brother whiplash in that second within that assault-hug.

All of a sudden, Sabo’s fears of scorn, anger and violence all wash away.

Luffy loves him.

They have each other now.

And now, Sabo is on his way to get that god damn fruit.

Sabo absolutely didn’t think he was ready for this re-connection, but he’s so glad he went through with it.

He has his brother back, his other brother’s powers, and the bragging rights of being able to flaunt both.

This is what I'm sayin with the "seems like fire favors these brothers" post I made. The fact that both the mera mera no mi and Luffy and Sabo were all in the same place to come together at once is a crazy coincidence. How many coincidences does it take, for a happenstance to be Fate? Probably that amount.

In conclusion:

Get this man a therapist. Please.

Heres another sabo analysis if you wanna hear more

Thank you for reading my ramblings about a fictional man. I think about him a completely average amount.

[goldenstring6123]

Sylus: Seething Red

Warning: 3.9K words. Angst. Little comfort. Cursing! Lots of it. Suggestive ending, for 16+ only, Plot heavy. Emotional & Dramatic. If you can't stomach arguments and fighting, I don't suggest reading this. Reader is not the MC but works as a hunter.

Author's note: This was a bit delayed because I had to re-write this three times :> warning, I proofread this once but I was lacking sleep soooo...

You burned with rage.

Seething, searing the skin of your entire being.

You revved your motorcycle faster, traversing through the pitch-black rainy night in the N109 zone. The fog was severe compared to the city, enough to obstruct the view of the street. Nonetheless, you continued driving, gritting your teeth at the thought of your lover, Sylus.

The towering building of Sylus' base remained void of any form of life, shrouded in a hazy mist of smoke and fog. Not even crows lingered about the premises.

You slammed the door open and met the twins, Luke and Kieran, one reading a book and the other looking at his phone. There was no time to spare them each a hello; you trudged through the godforsaken hallway and threw open Sylus' door.

There, the aforementioned man sat on his couch, staring at the flickering flame of his fireplace, his phone in your hand. "I recall telling you not to leave." The distaste was on his tongue, especially at the photograph of you in the airport with your teammates.

Your nails dug into the ball of your palm, almost threatening it to bleed. Any ounce of reasonable patience in you was slowly evaporating. The urge to talk in a calm manner had long been gone. You gritted your teeth while you took another step closer. "And who are you to make that decision?!"

Jenna gave you an opportunity to showcase your leadership because she knows you wanted a promotion. She offered you three projects to lead alongside her, and you chose a clean-up operation on Almus Island, an island infested with mutant Wanderers.

There was a lot of effort put into this, and you couldn't afford any mishap. You trained hard for this, coordinating with the data team and your own to create plans and backups in case anything went haywire.

It was one of the most dangerous tasks you had to do in your entire career—One that deserved the promotion you most certainly craved. Everything was leading up to that moment you boarded the jet.

That was three hours ago. The security guards stopped you and prevented you from leaving, stating that there was something wrong with your pass. You had no clue what they were talking about, but whatever it was, it prevented you from boarding the jet.

The team was under pressure. Jenna didn't know what to do as well. No matter what you did, no matter what papers you showed, they just didn't let you through. Time-bound, Jenna had no choice but to order you to go back to the headquarters and supervise from there.

That was a complete blow to your ego. After all that preparation, training, and debriefing, you wound up stuck inside the office instead of out there doing your job, which accompanied your title.

The recent promotion you got was an opportunity to ascend the corporate ladder, but with Sylus' actions, you looked nothing more like a fool. You had no idea why Jenna advised you to just head back to the office after security denied your access to the jet, but the sight of Mephisto perched on the flight display helped you put two and two together.

The shame, embarrassment, and look of pity from your peers choked you out of your logical thinking. They whispered against one another, asking why you were holding up the mission.

For once, you thought so little of yourself. Their stares were like fire ants on your skin, stinging you to your very being.

"I talked to you about this before, sweetie. I explicitly warned you about leaving the project for your own safety," Sylus said. The tone in his voice was that of when he was calm and collected, unbothered by the fiery rage that was drowning your mind. "Almus Island is dangerous because it was previously my turf, and I'm not joking when I say that place is a hellhole—it was abandoned for a reason."

"That's not an excuse for you to meddle in my affairs! I was already at the airport, I was with my team ready to leave, and then I found out I can't leave the country because of some shit you pulled?!"

"I warned you to heed my words," he said matter-of-factly. Every word that comes out of his mouth is like a landmine to trigger your emotions. You had the urge to cry, but you fought the pinpricks in your eyes. "I told you to drop off that project and do something else." His words came out smooth, almost matter-of-factly, and you hated it.

Sylus was the type of man to not give in on his actions, and tonight was the time when you had to painfully realize that.

"Listen to me, you piece of fuck—" You hissed through your teeth and strode angrily to him. "—What I do for work doesn't concern you unless Onychinus is involved. I deliberately chose to lead this project instead of the other offered to me because I don't want to be after your neck—God forbid I don't stand a chance against your organization."

Sylus threw his phone onto the couch, visibly irked at your words. "And I did what I did because I don't want you to end up dead," Sylus retorted.

"Are you too much of an idiot to not comprehend that?!" His red eyes glowed, fury flickering behind them. "I requested for you to not leave because I know for a fact you're going to end up injured when you come back, worse, you'd end up as a corpse."

Stupid. His reasoning is pure and utter stupid. Sylus? Scared of losing you? Bullshit. That flawed and shallow reason did nothing to soothe the fire in your heart. You didn't know what was powering your anger.

Was it the shame that you were so eager to leave but couldn't?

Was it the fact that Sylus thinks you're weak?

That he has an overwhelming amount of power against you?

Was it the fact that Jenna had high expectations, but you had made a fool of yourself in front of your peers?

It was all of it.

"That's a part of the job! What I did before you and I met is the same, I fight, and I get injured—Why are you speaking like I'm some sort of newbie in the field? You've seen me in action multiple times, I even saved your ass once!"

"I did what I did because I need to, and I'll do it all over again no matter how many times you berate me. You are staying in this city—you can take whatever project you want, you can go after the organization for all I care, and I'd be more than willing to let you shoot me, but you are not going to that island."

"Fuck! Why are you so insistent?! Did you think that just because you're powerful and shit, you get to toss me around like your fucking lackey?

Do you think so little of me? When I chose you, I did not fucking sign up to be dragged around by your whims—I don't give two fucks why and how you did it, but you don't get to meddle in my affairs," you yelled at him. You didn't care who heard you. You didn't even care about anything anymore.

"You don't get to have a choice."

A loud, ear-piercing crash reverberated in his room.

Before he could say anything else, you picked up the nearest object beside you, a small statuette, and lunged it at him. The once solid form is now nothing more than debris of glass. It crashed against the wall behind his head, the shards flying to cut his cheek.

"Well fuck me, since when did I ever have one with you? The last choice I made was choosing you, and it went to shit from there. I follow every one of your fucking whims, but when I requested for you to not do shit, you turn a deaf ear." You didn't know what you were saying. The words were flowing out of your mouth uncontrollably, previous thoughts and buried resentment now at the forefront of your thoughts.

Silence befalls the room, and you can only hear the harsh thumps of your heartbeat. Beneath the silver-haired man's facade was a clear look of disbelief. Sylus laughed dryly at your words. He looked away and squeezed his eyes shut, no longer able to hide his displeasure. "So you're turning this about me?"

"Sweetie," he flicked his hand, and the black and crimson mist wrapped around you, thwarting you closer to him.

"I prevented you from leaving the country because I don't want your death on my hands. I don't wish for you to get injured, but I tolerated seeing you hospital-bound every other month. You are my partner, and I want what's best for you. I don't want you dying on some godforsaken island just because it's your job."

His EVOL released you, but his long and hard fingers grabbed ahold of your face too roughly. "I did it because I adore you. Because you're my lover," he hissed. Sylus pressed your face closer together, "I did it to protect you."

His nails dug into your cheek, and you winced, clawing it off. "I don't want your protection. I never needed it in the first place," you said through clenched teeth.

"Get this through your fucking head. No matter how powerful you are and no matter what you are to me, whether I do dangerous jobs is not up to you," you dug a finger into his chest. "My life is not in your hands. It never will be."

You pulled away from him and stepped back. "I'm following after them. You better not pull that shit again."

Sylus let out a gruff sigh, drowning in debilitation. His long and slender legs made their way to where you were, and to your dismay, he wrapped a hand around your dainty wrist before dragging you faster out of his room.

A flash of thunder momentarily illuminated the hall, and as you landed on the ground, Sylus said one thing:

"You're not going anywhere."

The door slammed shut right in front of your face.

---

You couldn't do anything. You were helpless against Sylus' orders, and he kept his word: You weren't allowed to leave the country.

As much as you wanted to wallow in self-pity and anger, you had a job to do.

The office was quiet, especially in your division, with you and another co-worker coordinating the mission through the telecommunication room. The soles of your feet were chafed from all the walking, and your throat was dry from distributing orders to all of your team members.

You could only observe the condition of the island through the lenses in their suit. It was pure chaos, and more than half of the team were injured. Thankfully, there were no deaths.

Two weeks had gone by in a blur, and you were navigating through the exhaustion and disappointment. The team, comprising the best of the best, had not made nearly half of the progress expected—they were tasked to retreat for the time being.

Nights were spent in the company's living quarters, and you thrived off canteen food to the point where it tasted bland. You even caught a fever, but you brushed it off with cold medicine.

What was ironic was despite the hectic schedule, every little time in between your duties, you glanced at your phone.

Ever since that night, there has not been a single text message from Sylus. You didn't have the strength to barge into his room, and there was no point either; there was no one left in the base.

The team got back, and there was chaos once more, distracting you for the next week. Most were in and out of the hospital, asking for leaves and days off to recuperate. The damages to your teammates were bigger than what you anticipated, so much so that the daily workforce dwindled by a lot.

Adding to the office workload was the patrol duty and killing off wanderers.

Needless to say, by the time you arrived home, there was almost no time to think. Your head hit the pillow, temples aching to the rhythm of your sore back; yet even then, you could only think of Sylus. The harshness of your words was slowly eating you alive, and what was worse was that you couldn't even remember what he had said.

Your phone lit up to notify you of your schedule tomorrow. Instead, you opened the messaging app and clicked on Sylus' profile.

He had seen the message but did not respond.

Again, he had seen the message.

You bit your lip, typing the letters carefully and weighing your own words. You closed your eyes and pressed send before closing your phone. You were too tired to think about what you said, and with a heavy heart, you drifted off to sleep.

----

The presence of the man behind you was too overwhelming. It was overwhelming to the point where it was enough to stir you in your sleep—the only temporary escape you could have.

It didn't sink in at first. The fact that you weren't in your room. It was too dark and somber for it to be your apartment bedroom; the comfort of the tiny plushies on your desk was gone. Instead, it was the sight of an unused fireplace and the velvet and gold couch.

The satins were rough to your liking and had a scent of sandalwood and citrus. Definitely different from the rose scent you were accustomed to.

Sylus's bedroom. That's where you were. Anxiety pitted at the bottom of your stomach upon this realization; he was nowhere near your line of sight, but the chill on your back was enough of a guide. You turned behind you, eyes adjusting to the blaring city lights displayed outside of his massive windows.

His figure was recognizable, but as bright as the city lights were, you couldn't see any of his facial features.

You opened your lips to speak, yet no words came out of your mouth, and not a coherent thread of thought manifested in your head. There was no point in asking why he brought you back to his base. And as much as you wanted to speak to him, you didn't. The urge subsided quickly, and a second later, the urge to leave took its place.

You took off from the bed, adjusting the sleeve of your nightwear. Your legs were light and quiet as they attempted to make their way to the other half of the room where the exit was. You had no clue how you were going to go home in your state, but it was a lesser feeling than the urge to leave Sylus again.

"The message you sent," he spoke, his hands nudging in your way. "I'm assuming you're going to take it back?" It was as if the floor had become soil: stems of his black and crimson smoke emerged like vines, entangling your feet into their current position.

You kept your mouth shut.

His figure turned into smoke, which accumulated in front of you. "Sweetie," like a month ago, he grabbed a hold of your jaw. "I asked you a question."

"I'm sorry for getting mad at you."

"Whether you're forgiven or not doesn't matter. The last message you sent—do you mean it?"

You didn't, no. That was sent out of impulse, yet with Sylus ghosting you for almost a month, it was almost like he was just waiting for you to say it. What were you supposed to think? He could've thrown you away and found someone else by then.

"I don't know," you whispered.

"You don't know?" he repeated, raising his eyebrow.

"I don't know. You didn't talk to me for a month, and you left the headquarters—I had no way to contact you. What else would I think?" You couldn't look him in the eye, but if you could've seen it, his eyes flickered to softness.

Sylus sighed and set your foot free. The harsh grasp on your face softened until he eventually had to let go.

"I was on Almus Island, and so were the twins."

"Did you—"

"Hurt your teammates? No." He walked over to his couch and ignited a matchstick. He threw it onto the fireplace, and the image of the room became brighter. Only then did you realize your lover's state.

You scurried over to him, fixated on the bandage that wrapped around his ribs and the dried patches of blood on his biceps.

"What did you do?"

"I personally helped with the clean-up." He leaned back on the couch, a scowl on his face when an ache came from his wounds. His back carefully pressed against the velvet cushion, and relief overcame him. "I destroyed the protofield which was left open."

A protofield? You thought. What protofield? There was never a portal indicated in the debriefing. Sure, there was an underground abandoned base, which most likely belonged to Onychinus. Still, they were all bunkers and storage rooms filled with lousy protocores.

"There are a lot of questions in your head right now, but what's important is I've lessened your workload. Order your team to head back to the island next month and do another clean-up. It won't take more than a week and a half to kill the remaining monsters; as compensation, I'll give you access to the armory—I'm sure the higher-ups would marvel at what's left in there."

You processed his words carefully. It doesn't answer your question about the portal, but if there is one, then when the team heads back, you should add several flux stabilizers with you to avoid risking opening another protofield.

"Now, is that sufficient enough?" Sylus asked.

His words snapped you out of your brief work mode, and you stared at his face, wondering what he meant. "Enough for what?"

"As an apology."

You were speechless. Confusion filled your mind with his words. This man was unpredictable, but you were certainly sure he'd rather say sorry and move on than go through all that trouble and get injured in the process. You weren't sure if you were supposed to act all caring about his wounds or act bravely and accept his apology and go back to bed.

"Am I allowed to leave the country?" Sylus' eyes met yours at this question, but you didn't blink.

He raised his eyebrow again. "Yes, you are. I won't do that again."

"Good, you're forgiven." You eased your shoulders and turned on your heel to his closet. You entered the door and took off some jacket and some loose sweatpants of his. "Get yourself patched up by a doctor; I'm going home."

The thudding of his footsteps reverberated behind you, and before you could open the door, his big hand blocked the way. You turned back and spotted him clutching his side with a frown on his face. "Where are you going?"

"Back home," you replied matter-of-factly.

"And you're not going to address your text?"

Ah, for a moment, you forgot about that. Your break-up text. He apologized for the flight incident but never for abandoning you for a month; maybe you can take advantage of this for a little while longer.

Your fingers tapped on his hand and pushed the door closed. Your gesture was enough for him to let go and step back in the hope that you'd do something. You twisted the doorknob and pulled it open, one last peek at him.

"Get some rest."

You shut the door and ran down the hallway—instead of your home, like you said, you took one of Sylus' motorcycles and drove to the headquarters.

---

Three days had passed since then, and you really weren't that concerned with Sylus. Luke and Kieran say he's doing fine despite constantly being on edge almost every day. You, on the other hand, were busy planning for the next clean-up—hopefully, a more successful one thanks to Sylus' help.

You hopped out of the shower, but a sense of dread greeted your neck. You stopped before taking another step. Your eyes searched for the source; it wasn't from the locked door or the laptop on the kitchen desk. Your bedroom door, on the other hand…

From behind the vase near the entrance, you pulled out a small gun, but before you could even unlock it, the tall, familiar figure popped out of the bedroom, in his grasp a bouquet of roses. You froze, and so did he.

You stared at each other before he looked at your hand in disappointment.

"You really have to fix that habit of yours." The habit pertains to you constantly pointing a gun at him.

"First, you tamper with my passport, and you kidnap me while I'm asleep, and now you're breaking and entering?" You released the lock on the gun and placed it where it was, finally placing a hand on your hip. Beads of water dripped from your hair onto your bare shoulders, rolling down to your chest and finally to the towel.

"I wouldn't need to do this if you answered my question from the very beginning."

You don't want to deal with him right now. Not when I'm half-naked.

"Wait for me in the living room."

My movements weaved around him, and he just quietly followed my figure. His footsteps were quiet, but he was following me into the room—you had to stop him before he became an audience to you in the nude, but you didn't even get the chance to turn around.

Sylus picked you up, and you yelped from the sudden movement. You held on to the tuck of your towel as he threw you onto your own bed like he would before.

"You—I told you to wait!"

"I am not a patient man, sweetie."

The ends of the towel parted from each other, exposing a bit of your lower abdomen. His eyes landed on that specific place as well. You lifted your foot slightly and stretched it so that it could reach his chest, preventing him from taking a step further.

"Sylus. Wait."

Sylus backed off at your words like a dog. You fixed yourself back up and crossed your legs.

"No. I didn't mean that text. Not anymore, at least." To that, it was a sign for him to come closer. You watched him approach your body, looking down at you with a finger stroking the side of your face. "Just… don't ghost me like that. You made me think that you replaced me."

"Replaced you?" he questioned. "Is that how you think of me?" He almost looked offended.

"I wouldn't put it past you, considering the things I said."

He hummed and tilted your head upward so he could get a good look at your face. "I may be a shady person, but I'm certainly not a womanizer, sweetie. I thought you had more faith in me."

"Sorry," you replied.

Sylus got down on his knees and kissed your own, his calloused fingers savoring the soft touch of your calves. The sweet musk of vanilla wafted under his nose, almost reeling him in. You gazed at him intently, knowing where this was about to go.

Author footnotes: Yay I finally get to post this. I had a hard time writing this because I wanted it to be dynamic but at the same time I didn't want to write a full blown fic with an over complex back story. I had to re-write the entire thing until i felt somewhat satisfied.

Layout by me, using canva premium | Do not repost | Dividers by me!

[luvjunie]

— broken promises

pairing: earth 42 miles x fem!reader

summary: while earth 42 miles comes off a lot tougher than 1610’s based off his cold demeanor and his trauma induced apathy, somewhere under that hard shell, he’s still the sweet boy he used to be and wants love just like anyone else. miles is aged up to 17 in this, simply for the plot! wc: 2,640

contains: spoilers!!! angst to fluff

word bank: “mi vida” - my life, “mi amor” - my love

playing now: Wasted Love Freestyle by Jhene Aiko

You and Miles have been dating for 7 months now, and lately he hasn’t been around as much as he’d like to, for obvious reasons. Well, not obvious to you. You still don��t know that Miles is the Prowler, and he’s intent on keeping it that way.

It’s the third time he’s flaked on plans he arranged himself this month, and he can tell you’re beyond tired of it with the way you just blew his phone up.

— Miles POV —

Miles’ phone buzzes in his pocket but he decides against checking it, marking it off as something unimportant. He’s already accepted a job from his Uncle and a distraction wouldn’t do him any good right now.

8:03 PM

Mi Vida: please don’t tell me you’re doing this again bro.

Mi Vida: this is a joke, right?

Mi Vida: hello?? you were supposed to be outside thirty minutes ago.

Mi Vida: Miles Gonzalo Morales I swear to GOD if I don’t hear your motorcycle revving outside in the next five minutes so help me.

*buzz buzz*

Ignored.

*buzz buzz*

*buzz buzz*

He kissed his teeth, lashes fluttering in aggravation and air puffing through his nostrils at the continuous buzzing against his leg. His shoulder fell to the side a bit as he reached down into his pocket to grab his phone while he climbed up the stairwell, following his uncle. Seeing your contact name on his lock screen, his brow raised as he read over the message, then they bunched together in the middle of his forehead incredulously, the tone of your texts causing his strides to falter.

Miles was genuinely confused for a moment, trying to think back on if he’d done anything to upset you, until the memory of him assuring you he wouldn’t do this again slapped him across the face harder than his mom did that one time he’d cursed at her on accident. The two of you had a date planned for tonight, and he swore to you he’d be there this time, fifteen minutes early at that, even though he knew there was a big chance he wouldn’t be able to make it all. It was selfish of him to promise something he couldn’t guarantee, knowing how demanding the other factors in his life were, but he was so tired of disappointing you, and how happy you looked when he told you you guys would finally get to spend some time together really had him thinking he could make it work this time.

Eyes falling shut for a beat, a heavy sigh leaves his lips, tongue darting out to dampen them as he quickly tries to think of something to respond with that won’t piss you off more than you already are.

He texts you back: sorry Mami, something came up yk how it is. i got you tomorrow tho fasho

Yeah. Real smooth.

*buzz buzz*

Mi Vida: yk what, just forget it, Miles.

Damn, she called me by my first name? I definitely fucked up this time. He thinks to himself.

Mi Vida: whoever you’re with is clearly more important to you than what we got goin on, so it’s cool. stay where you at, i’m done

Shit.

His heart beats a little faster in his chest, the sensation a semblance of something he hadn’t felt in years. Fear. He texts back as fast he can, head snapping up to see he’s fallen behind his Uncle, and he hurriedly jumps a few stairs before he comes to a stop again.

Miles: done??? the fuck you mean you done?

You don’t respond fast enough for his liking, so he double texts.

Miles: baby stop playin. you trippin it ain’t even like that at all

Mi Vida: i’m deadass. don’t call my phone.

He utters a string of curses under his breath, alerting his Uncle who had already noticed he was falling behind when he heard the inconsistency of his nephew’s footsteps. He’s ample steps above Miles, turning his head only slightly over his shoulder to address the distracted teenager.

“C’mon man, get off the phone. We got business to tend to. You in or you out?” Aaron asks. “You know I can’t have nobody holdin’ me back.” There’s a hint of something deeper playing within his words, and Miles knows he doesn’t have a choice.

He swallows hard as he looks up at the older man. Taking one last look down at his phone, his jaw clenches in contemplation before he’s shaking his head with a quiet sigh and shoving it back into his pocket. He’ll have to deal with this later.

“My fault. Yeah, I’m in.” He mumbles, doing a quick jog to catch up to the man.

His uncle’s lips quirk into a smirk, a heavy hand coming down to clap Miles’ back and squeeze his shoulder.

“My man. Aight, let’s roll.”

— Your POV —

8:05 PM

You: i’m deadass. don’t call my phone.

You watch closely as the three dots bubble at the bottom left corner of your screen, an indicator that he was typing. But instead, a quiet scoff slips from your mouth when they disappear, your shoulders slumping in disappointment at the word that appears below your last message.

Seen

You angrily toss your phone onto your bed, bottom lip quivering when you catch a glance at yourself in the mirror when you walk by. You’d gotten dressed up all nice just for him, because you knew the chance of him being free for a night to take you out was rare. You’d started your makeup early just to make sure he wouldn’t have to wait outside for you while you finished, and you’d even styled your hair the way you knew he liked. All for nothing.

You kicked your shoes off and dropped your purse to the ground, heading to your bathroom to undo all your work. You washed all the makeup off your face, the act feeling more humiliating than ever when you remembered why you’d even put it on in the first place. To feel pretty for someone who barely even showed up.

You closed your eyes and tried to calm down, hastily reaching back over to check your phone just one more time. Maybe he was thinking of what to say, and that’s why he’d left you on seen.

Seen 25 minutes ago

Maybe not.

You hated crying. And more than anything you were tired of doing it, especially when broken promises were the cause of your wasted tears. Your evening was basically wasted, and you weren’t in the mood to do anything else anyway, so you decided that you’d call it a night and head to bed early. You slipped on some comfy sleep shorts, tying your hair up for the night before grudgingly tugging a large t-shirt over your head. Your brow perked up at the scent that wafted past your nostrils, and pinching the shirt with your forefinger and thumb, you brought the fabric to your nose and immediately caught a whiff of Miles’ cologne. You then realized you’d put on a shirt you stole from him a while back, and the way your heart fluttered made you even more upset than you already were. You brushed it off to the best of your ability and crawled into bed, trying your hardest to keep your sniffling to a minimum as you pulled your blankets over your shoulder.

____

As soon as he’d gotten the job done and his Uncle gave him the okay to dip, Miles’ feet were moving at the speed of light down the stairwell. And while he had sort of rushed the plays he made with some of the city’s goons, he just had to pray that all his Uncle’s money was in the banded wad of cash he returned with, or it would be his ass.

Skipping a few steps he hopped down onto the platform before the next set, checking his phone for the time simultaneously.

10:15 PM

“Damn.” He groaned, pushing through the doors, cool wind hitting his face. Once he reached his motorcycle he shoved his helmet over his head, hopped on, and sped off with a “skrrrt”.

He sped through the streets carelessly, something you definitely would’ve scolded him for had you been riding on the back of his bike with him, with your arms tight around his waist to hold on like you always did. He bobbed and weaved through cars, lane splitting between a few of them and he may have even ran a red, but he wasn’t paying enough attention to remember. All he could focus on was that you said you were “done”, whatever the hell that meant, and he was adamant on making sure you weren’t.

____

You didn’t know when you’d dozed off, three steady knocks, a fourth one after a pause hitting against your window, resulting in your eyes snapping open at the disruption. You sat up on your mattress, the ball of your hand rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you peered across the room. Once they adjusted in the darkness and you recognized the familiar, lanky body of your boyfriend standing outside on the fire escape, the events of just two hours ago played over in your mind like a record.

With a roll of your eyes, you huffed and swung your legs over the side of your bed, pushing yourself onto your feet. Miles watched as you sleepily trudged over to the window, hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans, head slightly lowered and tilted to the side, as if he were already apologizing before you’d even made it to him.

Hooking your fingers underneath the edge of your window, with a quiet grunt you pulled it up, effectively lifting the barrier between your bodies. You instantly felt your yearning for him come back full force, and wanted nothing more than to throw yourself into his arms, but you restrained. Your eyes met his, the cool night air breezing into your room, and his heart clenched. Somehow he was able to feel the coolness in your demeanor, yet the cold weather hadn’t bothered him at all.

He was the first to speak.

“Hola, Mami.” He sized you up once, taking notice of your eyes that were slightly puffy from crying.

His voice was like silk to your ears, alluring and confident, almost hypnotizing, and it aggravated you that you felt yourself gravitating towards him off two simple words.

“Why are you here, Miles?” You sighed, arms slapping at your sides in exasperation.

He looked slightly taken aback, chin lifting a bit as if you’d asked something completely outlandish.

“What you mean why I’m here? You my girl, shit, this my crib too.” He shrugged, so nonchalant, as if nothing had happened. You wondered if it had even been him texting you earlier.

“You left me on seen, remember? Stood me up, too?” Your head cocked to the side to match the attitude in your tone, brows raising at him. What excuse would he use this time?

He dragged a hand down his face, exhaling heavily before he spoke up again.

“I was… busy. Look, my bad, okay? You gon’ let me in or what? Ian come all the way over here to stand outside.” He demanded with a gesture towards the opening, his hazel eyes glinting in the moonlight and thawing the ice that’d been temporarily encased around your heart. There was the smallest hint of a smirk on his lips, because he already knew the answer.

Your lips pursed and you stepped to the side, a laggard arm stretched out beside you, silently granting him access to your room.

He stepped through the window frame and you closed it after him, his hands folding around the collar then the hem of his jacket as he adjusted it and turned towards you.

“I can’t keep doing this with you, Miles. It isn’t fair.” You mumbled, hating the way your voice split your words.

His head dipped to the side a bit as he took in your solemn expression and the way your gaze was cast to the floor, as if you were trying to contain your tears. He wasn’t the best at this, he knew that, and showing affection effectively really wasn’t his strong suit. He usually made it up to you by bringing you a few hundreds he’d made from a deal, paired with some roses he’d picked up on the way to your house at the last second— but you both knew paper and flowers wouldn’t fix it this time.

“I’m sorry, I mean it.” He said, reaching for your hand to bring you close and grateful when your eyes finally lifted to lock onto his, although seeing them tear-filled wrapped him in a deep-seated emotion he didn’t even want to acknowledge.

Miles rarely said he was sorry. If ever. Did he apologize? Yes, but it was usually a ‘my bad’ or a ‘my fault’, or some other term that’d get the point across without him have to use too much emotion. Hearing the words ‘I’m sorry’ from him was an anomaly, it happened once in a blue moon, so this time you knew he really meant it. In your heart you knew he meant it, but that didn’t stop the tear you’d been trying to keep at bay from rolling down your cheek.

His thumb caught the tear almost instantly, swiping it from the soft of your skin. It didn’t belong there, and he hated to be the reason why you were crying in the first place.

“Where do you disappear to, Miles?” You sniffled.

He sighed, glancing back over at the window. He considered telling you the truth, but he knew he couldn’t.

“I’m just tryna keep you safe, ma.”

“You always say that!” You squeaked, making sure to keep your voice down, you had technically snuck him in. You ripped your hand from his grasp, turning your face away from him as another tear fell. “Do you not trust me or something? Is that it?”

“Of course I trust you,” His eyebrows knit together at your question and he stole your hand from your side again.

“So why can’t you tell me?” You pleaded, eyes big and glossy.

“I just-“ He paused. “I can’t let you get hurt. The shit I do…” You watched as he hesitated, like even speaking about the subject pained him. “It ain’t good.” He swallowed, a hand coming up to cup your cheek. “And I’ll be damned if I put you in the middle of my shit. I love you… okay?” He moved closer to you, and when you turned from him once again he brought your face right back to his, this time with both his hands. He wasn’t going to let you go, and while Miles was rough around the edges, and seemingly devoid of any emotion other than anger or resentment for the world—he always handled you with care.

“I love you, Y/n, I put that on everything. I’ll burn this whole world down for you, you hear me? Don’t think I won’t.” He stared into your eyes longingly, intent on making sure you didn’t just hear every word, but that you understood them, too.

You couldn’t help but lean into his hand, your own coming up to hold at his wrist as you inhaled shakily and gave him a bleak nod.

That wasn’t enough for him. He needed to hear you say it.

“Do you understand?” He articulated his words, bringing his head down slightly to match your height a bit more.

“I understand.” You said softly, looking up at him through your lashes before your gaze fell to his lips. He took that as his sign, leaning forward and bringing you into a kiss.

You melted into him immediately, like you always did, eyes fluttering closed as your lips moved against his, and as his hands fell to your hips to pull you in closer, like they always did.

You broke the kiss for air, your hand resting on his bicep and your lips ghosting his as you spoke, as you shared the same breath. “I love you too…” You breathed, standing on your toes.

“Good,” You felt him grin before he pulled away, his hand pinching your chin to make you look at him. “Cause you not leaving me, ever. I can’t let no one else have you, Mami, you know that.” He cooed.

You felt heat flush your cheeks, a smile you couldn’t hide finally spreading on your face.

“Yeah yeah, I know.” You answered, chewing at your bottom lip. “Can you stay?” You whispered, eyes shifting between his hopefully as you awaited his answer.

“Ah…” He rubbed at the back of his neck, piping up again before you could get disappointed. “What about your moms?”

“She sleeps in on the weekends, you just gotta be outta here by nine. Please, pa?” You whined, already reaching for his hands.

He chuckled to himself and shook his head slightly, having to look away from the adorable look on your face. He tried to remain in denial of the fact that he was so deep in love with you he could hardly think sometimes, let alone say no, but he was failing. Miserably.

“Of course I’ll stay, mi amor.”

Your expression lit up, a toothy smile brightening your features as he let you lead him to your bed.

He made sure to remove his shoes before he laid down, settling on his back. He extended his arm out to you as he tucked the other behind his head, motioning for you to join him with his fingers.

You crawled into his open embrace, getting comfortable on top of his chest and nuzzling your head under his chin. You began to feel drowsy the second he wrapped his arm around you, a yawn leading your eyes to water. His hand slowly moved from where it was resting on your back, dipping beneath the hem of your shirt, the warmth of his skin against yours comforting to you. His large hand rubbed up and down the expanse of your back, the tips of his fingers drawing lines along your spine— you always fell asleep easier when he did that. You listened to the steady beating of his heart, fingers idly toying with the gold chain he kept around his neck.

“I’m really sorry I ain’t make it tonight. I know you prolly got all pretty for me n’shit… and I wish I got to see it, but that’s on me.” He grumbled. He’d beat himself up over this for a while.

“S’okay.” You say it is, but he knows it’s not. He knows better. “I missed you.” Your quiet voice murmured from below him as you scooted in impossibly closer.

His jaw tensed as he stared up at your ceiling, a deep breath from his diaphragm raising you a little bit with his chest, and lowering you as he released it. “I know.” His response was hushed, and as sleep continued creeping in, you wondered if you’d imagined it.

But when you felt a long, drawn-out kiss press to the top of your head, his hand rubbing soothing circles between your shoulder blades, you knew it was real. The last thing you heard before you dozed off was his voice, mellow and gentle as he assured you.

“Ima do better, mama. I promise, for real this time.”

- do not copy, plagiarize, or post my works onto a different platform.

likes, comments, and reblogs are very appreciated!

[aemondapologistfrfr]

Do Not Text

modern!ex!aegon x fem!reader 

Summary: You go to a party just to make your ex come and pick you up in a jealous rage. 

Warnings: 18+ drinking, swearing, vulgar language, ig degradation but i feel like thats such an intense word, one cigarette, fingering, p in v, unprotected, a couple spanks 

Authors Note: 2% plot 98% toxic porn sry 🫡 also new style of header that i’m trying out 

Word Count: 2.5k 

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You had to practically beg your friends to go to this party. Apparently it’s a crime to have fun in the middle of the week. Thankfully all it took was a couple of shots and ensuring you were all sharing your locations. Once you all stepped into the house you all spread out and went in your own directions to enjoy yourselves. 

You were relieved to see the drink table had decent options and took your chances with the mysterious colored bowl. It burned going down your throat but you shrugged and downed the cup before filling it up again. You turn and scope out the area before downing your drink again and making your way into the crowd. Your heart stutters when you see a head of platinum hair but when the person faces you it’s just a girl. Fucking blondes. 

You pull a man with dark curly hair into your arms and get lost in him for a couple minutes. His hands are grabby and his touch doesn’t offer you the heat you’re looking for. You whisper into his ear to find someone else before you disappear into the crowd. You find yourself at the drink table again with a cup of that burning liquid and pull out your phone. 

you: i fucking hate you

do not text!!: i hate you 

you: come pick me up

do not text!!: so you're drunk lmfao

you: says the alcoholic 

do not text!!: fuck you 

You go to throw your phone but remember your surroundings. You stare at the screen, willing it to burst into flames. The drink in your hand is downed and refilled once more. You turn and find the curly dark haired stranger looking at you with a smile. 

“I can’t find anyone as perfect as you.” his line makes your stomach twist but Gods you just want to make out with someone. You pull him to your lips and you wince at his taste and his hands are quick to find your ass. There’s only one person who knows what you like and he won’t come to you without the right incentive. 

“Take a picture of us. I’m trying to piss someone off.” you mumble against the man’s lips. He seems to have no care for being used in your petty game and snaps the picture. You send it and look up to him shrugging your shoulders. “You’ll find someone better than me. I’m not worth it.” you pat his chest offering him a half hearted smile before filling up your cup again. You chuckle at your phone reading the texts as they come through.

do not text!!: send me your address 

do not next!!: now 

do not text!!: you have your read receipts on dumbass now answer me

you: no he said he’ll take care of me

do not text!!: tell me where you are 

*do not text!! calling…*

“I can’t hear you, I'm at a party.” you shout picking up the phone. 

“Go outside then.” you hear his engine revving. “Tell me where you are.” you giggle into the phone at his tone. 

“I told you I’m at a party.” you push through the bodies to get to the front lawn. “Does someone have a cigarette?” you whine and watch a couple men walk up to you with packs open. 

“Give me the address.” he enunciates every word. 

“Mm, thank you.” you smile as another man lights your cigarette. “Do you know the address?” you look around. 

“I can give you a ride home if you need, baby.” the man who gave you the cigarette says. 

“I could give you a ride you won’t forget.” the one who had the lighter smirks. 

“You see how they treat me, asshole?” you mumble into the phone. 

“Get the fucking address. They only want your pussy and you know that.” his voice is dripping with anger. You finally get the address out of the man at the door and mumble it into the phone before hanging up. 

“Someone get me another cup, please.” you push your bottom lip out and one of the men rushes into the house. You take a seat on the steps and smoke your cigarette and smile when a cup is put into your waiting hands. You only get a sip before you frown when someone’s hand slaps it onto the ground. 

“Get up.” you look up and start giggling at his expression. “Let’s go.” your cigarette is next to be tossed and soon you’re being pulled to the car. 

“Aegon, slow down, I'm going to fall.” you tug his hand back. He grunts and yanks you to the car. 

“Are you fucking serious?” his voice low. He gets you into the passenger seat and leans over to put your seatbelt on. 

“Acting like you care all of a sudden?” giggles fall from your lips and you tangle your fingers in his hair. He grabs your hand and places it on your lap before slamming the door shut. 

“Are you fucking stupid?” Aegon turns to you and you sit there trying to stifle your laughter. “Oh my fucking Gods.” his fingers dig into the steering wheel as he peels away from the house. He doesn’t care that you broke up two weeks ago, you're still his. 

“I’m surprised you’re even sober.” you roll your head to the side and look at him. “Fuck Aegon, you’re so pretty.” you watch his nostrils flare and you start to giggle again. 

“You’ve been calling me to pick you up almost every day.” he mutters. Of course he’s been sober, he needs to be there to come get you. This is your stupid game you’ve been playing. 

“Are you gonna take me home?” you turn in the seat. “Hm? Are you one of the guys that just wants my pussy?” you run your hands up your legs. 

“Who was the dude in the picture? I didn’t see him outside taking care of you like you said he was.” he turns to you at the stoplight.

“Just someone to make out with. He couldn’t touch me the way you do.” you pout your lips at him and he scoffs before turning his attention to the light turning green. 

“You’re the one who broke up with me.” he shakes his head. 

“So?” you turn to him and he stares straight ahead. The rest of the ride through his neighborhood is silent and you smile seeing him pull into the driveway of his house. 

“Out of the car.” he unbuckles both of your seatbelts and is waiting for you outside. You sit in the car and wait for him to open the door for you. A smile spreads across your face as he storms over to the door and pulls it open. “I will leave you out here.” you step out of the car and cling onto his arm. 

“I was just waiting for you to get the door for me. You used to be so sweet to me.” he tugs you into the front door. 

“Be quiet.” he hisses and starts to pull you up the stairs. 

“Are you mad at me?” you turn to him once he clicks his door shut. 

“Very.” you smile seeing his dark eyes. “You think this is funny? You throw yourself onto these fucking guys and have the audacity to send me a fucking picture? Fuck that.” his hand engulfs your face, pulling your chin up. 

“Aeg-“ 

“No.” he shakes his head covering your mouth with his hand. “I don’t want to hear it tonight. You’re just here for one thing so get on the bed. Go on.” he nods to the bed, removing his hands from you. “This is why you wore this little dress, right?” you lay on the bed on your back. 

“Please,” you whine looking up at him. You start to spread your thighs and he groans before grabbing your leg and flipping you onto your stomach. 

“Ass up.” he taps your thighs. “Pull your dress up.” he clenches his jaw seeing the wet spot on your panties as you push your ass back towards him. You turn your head and watch his features darken. “I don’t even know why you broke up with me if you’re just going to beg for me to fuck you everyday still.” he slides his fingers down over your panties. 

“Why are you so wet?” he chuckles, pulling your panties to the side. “Hm? I thought you hated me. Why’s your pussy crying for me then? Begging me to fuck you the way you like.” you whimper at his words as he pushes two fingers into you. You rock your hips back onto his fingers and he brings his thumb down to circle your bud. His fingers move quicker as you softly roll your hips into his hand. You hear the shuffle of clothes and suddenly his fingers have disappeared. 

“Aegon,” you gasp as he slams into you. He leans over you, pressing you into his bed as he hammers into you. 

“This is what you wanted?” he grunts into your ear as you push back into him. You cry out his name and he chuckles pushing your head into the mattress. “You think those fucking losers at that party know what you like? How to fuck you so you’re nice and sweet for them?” his words cause more pleasure to pool in your lower stomach. 

“Please, just like that.” your hand grabs for his arm pressed onto your back. He lets out a low chuckle and his pace becomes almost nonexistent. “Please,” you whine pressing back into him. “Please, please,” your nails dig into his arm. 

“Gods you should fucking hear yourself.” he slowly rolls his hips into you. “Maybe I should stop letting you come when you come over. Just use this little pussy for my pleasure.” you whimper at his words. “But the feeling of you squeezing me so tightly is something I’ll want forever.” he whispers before he starts to pound into you again. 

There’s no coherent words coming out of your mouth as you slide against his bed as he slams into you. The sounds of skin on skin is in competition with the sounds of your wetness seeping out of you. His low words have your toes curling and with every snap of his hips your pleasure spirals closer to the edge. 

“If you wanna come ask.” he grunts. “I know you’re about to.” his hands grip your waist. 

“Can I,” you gasp as his hand lands on your ass. “Can I come, Aegon? Please.” your pleasure is on the cusp and you won’t be able to hold it off for much longer. “Aegon please, yes,” his hand lands on your ass once more. 

“Then come.” he rasps pounding into you. You fall apart around him crying out his name. “Fuck you feel so good.” his fingers dig into your skin promising bruises in the morning. “I’m gonna ruin this dress so you can’t wear it out.” you whine as he slips out of you. You turn and watch him fist himself before he starts to paint his pleasure across the back of your dress and on your ass. 

“Aegon,” you whine scrunching your brows. 

“I don’t give a fuck about this dress or your whining.” he laughs collapsing on the bed next to you. 

“I want you to fuck me again.” you turn your head to him with a pout. 

“I’m sure you do.” he chuckles watching you sit up on your knees. “Take your dress off. I don’t need it to make a mess in my bed.” you start to pull off your dress watching Aegon lick his lips at every inch of exposed skin. 

“Fuck me. Please Aegon.” you straddle his hips and start to slide against him. “Please, please.” you lean down to kiss him and he turns his head. 

“No kissing. We’re not together anymore.” you groan, burying your head in his neck while starting to roll your hips. 

“Just one kiss?” you whine feeling him start to harden. 

“No.” he chuckles, enjoying your desperation. You press your lips against his neck as you continue to rock against him. Aegon tries his hardest to hold himself together but your soft whimpers and small kisses are slowly making him lose his composure. “Then line me up so you can fuck yourself on me.” he grits out through his teeth. 

“Thank you.” you kiss his neck quickly before grabbing his length. Aegon groans as you sink down onto him. You lean back down and start to slowly bounce against him. “I wanna kiss you so bad, Aeg.” your words a question. 

“That sucks.” you furrow your brows as you stop your movements. 

“I hate you.” you dig your nails into his chest. “You should be quiet. I hate you.” you slam your hand over his mouth and you watch his eyebrows raise. You lean down as you start to move again and look at him. “All you’re good for is your dick. I hate you so much.” your words start to slur as you start to bounce faster. 

His hips jerk up to meet yours and with one hard thrust you fall against his chest. His arms wrap around your waist as he starts to slam his hips up into you. A gasp falls from your mouth as his fingers dig into your ass to push you down to meet his thrusts. Your hand moves from his mouth to dig into the sheets as he continues to pound up into you. 

��Can’t even fuck yourself on me properly. I always have to do it for you.” his words leave you whimpering in his neck. He stops his movements and you whine starting to grind against him. “Look at you so fucking desperate for me.” you slow your movements and half smile as he lets out a low groan. 

“You’re just as desperate.” your words breathy and soon lost as he flips you. Your legs wrap around his waist and he chuckles starting to push into you. His thrusts become more erratic and your fingers dig into his back. “Kiss me.” you pant and he dips his head down to hover over your lips. 

“No.” his lips barely brush yours but it leaves you trembling. His hair curtains around your face as you stare at each other getting lost in the feeling. His hips snap into you and your breath catches as your pleasure pulses through you. “Fuck.” his eyes shut and you feel his warmth spread. 

“I hate you.” you’re still clinging against him. He unwraps your legs and lets them fall open on the bed before rolling off of you. You watch him pull the blankets up and tug some for yourself. 

“Yeah. Go to bed.” he mumbles rolling over. 

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masterlist 🔌 

idek 🫠 

taglist ✍️

@clarityisnofun @gabriella-aesthetic @callsignwidow @llynx7 @violetiss3lfish @ka1afbr @akiko-oo @papichulo120627 @lizzylovebooks280501 @thatgirl101blog @1-fuzzy-squirrels @arya-brooke @ashovertheriver @zanygot7straykidsbonk @moonymoo1 @malfoycassimalfoy @april-notthemonth69 @anaviieiraaa @p45510n4f4shi0n @neocockthotology @thereaderwitch @hardkiddonut @faenyra @hiimava11 @daintylittlesunflower @primroseluna @fiction-fanfic-reader @povofjustme @multilover19 @alexxavicry @cedstars @fuckalrighty @mrsmunson-harrington @misspendragonsworld @nz2004 @ninihrtss

[reverie-starlight]

would you want to be a manager, a coach or something entirely else in he knb universe?

DEPENDS ON WHICH CHARACTER I’M FOCUSING ON!!! cause for Kagami I have a whole backstory (…and fic in the notes app) in which I’d be a childhood friend from California and all that…

but I think in general I’d like to be a manager, haikyuu made that position seem really fun 😭

WHAT ABT YOU!!!!!

[revelboo]

Rev's been inactive for 15 whole minutes, everyone panic! Call the honor guard! The navy! Superman even!

/LH /J

Pffft

I’m just hiding out over here writing TF stuff because the Twitter writing community seems to be actively on fire right now and I don’t have the energy to deal with it

Broken Arrow Pt 10

TFP Megatron x Reader

• Curling an arm around you when you go limp against him, it’s almost impossible to let go of your wrist and shatter that connection tethering him to you, but he finally manages to let go, feels your fingers slide through his spark, the pull as he loses contact urging him to curl himself tighter around you. Instead closing the plating protecting his spark, his servos unsteady as he stares down at you where you’re slumped against him, cheek against his shoulder. It wasn’t supposed to be like that, though he’s not entirely sure what he was thinking. Only that he’d wanted to feel someone touch him, he’d wanted to feel warm fingers stroking over his spark, holding and seeing him. All of him.

• Gripping your chin in his claws, he tips your head back. Your eyes are still closed and your pulse is slow when he strokes along the line of your throat, shifting your leash. Thinking about how you’d felt tangled in him, feeling you still, the connection new and fragile. Frightening. It’s not too late to end it, servos curling loosely about your throat even while knowing he won’t. He can’t when you’re all he really has that’s real, not plotting against him or scheming. That reminds him that he hadn’t always been the ruthless gladiator that had been born in that pit from pain and spilled energon. Staring up at the autocracy gambling on lives because everyone else had mattered so very little to them. Hating them and learning to be so much worse than they were just to survive. To throw them down.

• There’s a warmth coiled inside you, the thrum of something achingly familiar under your cheek and an arm curled around you, servos in your hair. That feeling is safety and home. Eyes opening at the soft clicking of a claw sliding back and forth over the length of your leash in Megatron’s fist, you try to figure out why you feel so exhausted. And then remember his servos gripping your wrist too hard, forcing you into contact with his spark, optics flickering that fitful purple from that crap he keeps taking. Everything after that kind of gets confusing as you flex your fingers and he looks down at you. Aware that he’s cradling you in his lap like a lover and of that scowl he’s aiming down at you. “Get off,” you mutter, trying to push against his chest and almost pitching backwards when he lets you. Scrambling out of his lap on unsteady feet, because it’s not just exhaustion, you feel off balance. “You jerk.” Because whatever’s wrong must be his fault. “What did you do?”

• Standing slowly to tower over you, he catches your upper arm when your legs almost fold under you and you slump against him. It’s not a full bond, not exactly. He can feel it in the way his spark is aching, wanting to reconnect. Needing more than a one sided bond, because he can feel the jarring wrongness of it. Knows that a spark bond is meant to unite, to twine two halves together. Meant to be between two willing sparks, not this mess he’s made. Your little hands are pushing at him again, trying to break away and he wonders what it feels like to you. Does it hurt you like it hurts him, a shard wedged in his spark?

• “Stop fighting me, pet.” That command isn’t his usual demanding tone or his teasing, it’s almost tired and very bitter as his arms press you closer despite your attempts to get away. Because the warmth and feel of him against you is suddenly too much, you’re overwhelmed with him. Needing him to back off, because you can’t think beyond the urge to be closer. Claws on your chin, forcing your head up to meet his optics again. Demanding your attention as he stares down at you, optics narrowing. “Primus.”

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