#she was like 'you're fine so get yourself out there!!' | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kyunzin · 1 day ago

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☆𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐃𝐈𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐀𝐘?☆ - 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞, 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨

✰ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 ✰ 𝐆. 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮, 𝐆. 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮, 𝐅. 𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢, 𝐒. 𝐑𝐲𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧, 𝐍. 𝐊𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐨, 𝐊. 𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐨 ✰ 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 ✰ them overhearing you say you can take all of them at once (f!reader) ✰ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒/𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 ✰ pussy licking, fingering, hair pulling, praise, face fucking, manhandling, degrading, sloppy make out, spit kink, cum eating, blowjobs ✰ 𝐊𝐘𝐔𝐍’𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 ✰did you guys know word counters are useful😀 why had i already hit the word count ages ago (i roughly count by paragraphs 10 lines= 100 words/ 10 paragraphs =1k words yk so 30 paragraphs =3k words. i hit 3 k in like the 27th paragraph) also if you see any words that look like they’re missing a ‘h’ its because that key is broken for me and i probably forgot to edit it in :D

w.c ✰ 3.4

it's almost too much for you to handle

it's probably not a good idea to make promises you might not be able to keep

it's going to be fine, you’ll find a way to get through it since after all you can take it, cant you?

geto sucks in the whine you let out when gojo's tongue doesn't move, taking the opportunity to slip his tongue inside your mouth, holding you down when you try to roll your hips into gojo's face. "you'll get what you want soon. 'm gonna give him a little taste so he doesn't bitch, keep your tongue flat and don't move it or else you wont get anything for the rest of the night" you can tell the last bit was directed at gojo as he responds with a hum of 'mm-hmm', the vibrations against your pussy cause your legs to twitch. geto guides your hands down towards gojo's hair and you instinctively you grip onto it.

you're near breathless, panting heavily when geto's lips part from yours, trying to chase his hips but he only breaks the kiss to quickly whisper to you "pull his hair he loves it" you follow his command, tugging firmly at his hair as instructed and the result doesn’t disappoint. gojo's moan goes straight to your core and you shudder in pleasure. "told you, he's a little pain slut" gojo lets out a whine at geto's comment and toji laughs clearly amused by the interaction yet you can only sit there aching for some more stimulation. "i thought you said it was rude to keep your guests waiting, yet here i am still waiting"

even though your words come out breathy toji smirks up at your little quip "fine. since you can't seem to wait, fuck yourself on his tongue but when i tell you to stop you do. understand?" he stands from is position on the floor, making his way to sit in a small arm chair off the side of the queen sized bed. "yes, fuck finally" you get to work immediately drag gojo’s tongue over your aching cunt, pulling his face further into your pussy while he keeps himself still for you to use. "where d’ya find this one, she's so demanding" in your periphery you can see him stroking is cock through his pants.

you ignore his words and focus on working gojo’s tongue, throwing your head back relieved that you’re finally able to gain some stimulation after being left waiting for so long. you can tell gojo’s enjoying this from the little vibrations of noises he lets out as well as his firm grip keeping your legs spread wide out next to him. geto's soft chuckle tickles the crook of your neck at the clear desperation of your movements "found her and her friend talking about all the things she would let us do to her in the middle of campus so proudly" you curl into his touch without halting the movement of your hands.

toji raises is eye brows at geto's words but you're too occupied with the feeling of gojo's wet tongue to notice. "and what exactly would she let us do to her?" toji says with a curious smirk eager to hear the answer. "why don't you tell him, i'm sure you had a lot more to say than what you told us, right?" you can hear the teasing tone in is voice, wishing that you wouldn't have to repeat yourself. a couple of seconds pass without your reply and the two of them realise that you didn't hear them, head thrown back on geto's shoulder, lost in the way gojo's tongue glides up and down your folds.

it’s hard to focus on what their saying when you’re so lost in your pleasure. gojo’s saliva oozes out his mouth, creating a hot wet mess between your legs as he practically drools all over you yet your pleasure is lost without any warning. "i asked you a question," you let out a choked sob when gojo is ripped away from you and try to chase his mouth with your hips only to be stopped by geto, opening your eyes to see gojo's spit soaked face smiling up at you mockingly while he inwardly mourns the loss of your taste on his tongue. "how will we know what to do, if you don't tell us?"

you know there's no use in trying to evade the question yet you're too frustrated to even care. "i want you to fuck my throat. want you to mess me up inside and out. i don't wanna be able to talk or walk after you're done with me," you turn to look at toji who's grin stretches from ear to ear. there's a very visible wet spot marking out where the tip if his cock lies yet his makes no moves to remove himself from his confines. you’d leave it at that but you might as well tell them the full extent of what you want "want you to fuck me up real good, whatever you want. do your worst, i can take it"

even though you may have skipped over a few minor major details you're sure that they would be able to get the gist. "atta girl, that wasn't so hard now was it. now we can finally get to the good shit" he rises from his place on the chair and makes his way over to the three of you with his yes locked with yours. toji's words paired with geto's soft "good girl" sends a thrill down your spine. geto’s calloused hands keep you grounded where you are as you start to get fidgety again “keep still, you’ll get what you want soon princess” his words still your little tremors as the promise of more eases your mind.

"toru' move i didn't get a good taste earlier" toji winks at gojo and as if on cue he follows his words without a moments fail, letting his hair loose from your hands you mourn the loss of his warmth between your legs, and you catch a glimpse of his dejected face as he stands up taking toji's previous place on the seat and you spot the raging tent in his joggers. "looks big doesn't it?" you nod your head as you continue to stare and upon noticing your gaping, gojo’s face lights up again. as if to show off gojo makes quick work of pulling out his cock, geto scoffs as his display and focuses his attention on you.

"i'm sure you'll be able to take it and if not, well i guess that's your problem isn't" you can hear his soft laughter from above you. gojo's size should be the least of your problems right now because the feeling of whatever is poking your head is breaking any hopes you had before of them being average. it’s stupid to keep that idealistic thought. your head snaps downward at the edge of the bed as toji settles himself between your legs with a predatory look in his eyes, stopping a few inches from you. “don’t worry, you’ll be able to take it with a little practice” that does little to ease your worries.

the yelp that you let out when toji lifts your calf and bites it has the other three in the room laughing at you. he keeps up his ministrations while placing each leg over his shoulders. "don't act so surprised sweet cheeks, i'm just getting into position" you can hear gojo mumble something about ‘taking his spot from him’ but pay him no mind as toji licks his way along your thigh "squeeze ya legs if you want, that way i’ll be able to tell how good i'm making you feel since you wont be able to speak" confusion must show on your face yet instead of satisfying your curiosity toji just winks at you.

toji’s calloused hands run up the length of your left leg pushing it to the side ever so gently, while he scatters ostentatious kisses along the other. his frequent kisses have your legs twitching in anticipation as he teases you, taking his sweet time, eyeing you closely until he finally presses a feather light kiss to your spit soaked clit. he pulls back and you watch as a thin wet string connects his lips, glistening with your slick, to your pussy until he licks them clean “s’ as sweet as sugar princess,” he leans down and repeats the motion this time with more emphasis “where’ve you been hiding?”

your response is a choked moan and your hands reach into his hair which he takes that as a sign to continue, sucking on you clit as if he’s expecting something to come out. he soon lets up and smiles down at your now puffy clit like a child proud of their drawing, rubbing his thumb in circles over it while your hand uselessly holds onto his thick wrist as his hand abuses your clit. “that feel good sweet cheeks?” you frantically nod your head as you bite your lips while trying to buck your hips into his touch but he suddenly stops with a harsh slap to your outer thigh which has you whining at the loss of stimulation.

“I want words cheeks and look at me when I’m talking to you” you don’t remember closing your eyes but you open them not surprised to see toji looking up at you from between your legs with a slick covered smile. a few seconds pass without your reply so he pinches your clit in warning and you quickly remember what else he wanted “fuck- yes it feels so fucking good please don’t stop” seemingly satisfied with your response he releases his hold on you and presses a kiss to your clit as if it’s an apology. “there we go. keep makin 'em pretty noises for me and I won’t have to check in so often”

a sudden movement behind you almost causes you to jolt in surprise, in one swift movement your hands are pinned above your head and your vision of toji is obscured by geto’s thighs straddling your chest, looking up to see him smiling at you. his hair frames his face as he looks down at you and he swiftly ties his hair into a bun at the back of his head. from this angle you're faced nearly directly under the swelling in his pants and you're slowly catching onto the meaning of toji's words. "don't look so surprised, this is what you said you wanted isn't it. i'm just giving you what you asked for"

geto's words remind you that even though his smile may look sweet and harmless he's just as cunning as the other two, he’s just able to hide it well. you're pulled out of your thoughts when geto starts to pull down his waistband, lowering it just underneath his balls. feeling it was one thing but seeing it right in front of you makes you worry for the state of your throat after he's done with you. at first glance you can tell that it'll be a mouthful, thick and girthy. geto’s hands gently lift you head from it’s position and your brought out of your thoughts.

"open nice and wide for me" you follow his words without question and two things happen at the same time. one, geto thrusts as much of his cock as he can down your throat causing your throat to constrict around him as you try not to choke and struggle to breathe at the same time. simultaneously toji decides at that exact moment to lick a stipe up your pussy to collect all of yours and his mess on his tongue, laying his tongue flat on your pussy only for it all to dribble back out his mouth creating an even wetter mess. “sounds like you’re having fun over there” gojo taunts.

both motions leave you spluttering around geto's cock and your legs threaten to close around toji's head despite the firm hold he has on them and you can hear gojo’s sardonic laugh in the background. tears begin to well in your eyes until geto taps your cheek to get your attention. “princess, breathe through your nose” you cant help but notice his voice comes out near strained and you hope you’re the reason for it. following his instructions you find that you can actually breath better though you still struggle a bit “isn't that much better?” you let out an appreciative hum and his response is immediate.

your just barely able to make out the small tensing of his abdomen through his shirt however you do feel the way his cock pulses down your throat as you try to maintain a steady breathing pattern. “told you you could take it” your lured into a false sense of security when geto slowly starts to pull back out of your throat only by a couple inches before he practically plunges back in, throwing your breathing off balance again however you remember his advice and try to regain composer as he waits for you. “such a good girl, taking me so well” he praises and you can feel tears begin to well in your eyes.

just when your able to control your breathing again toji agrees with him and his response is short hum into your pussy, which vibrations straight to you core. you had forgotten he was there with how consistent he’s been. as if before had only been a warm up he begins to lap hungrily at your pussy, letting his tongue edge slightly into you as if to tease you. instead of holding your legs apart like before he leaves them to clamp firmly around his head as you slowly try rock your hips into his face as much as you can but he holds you down by your hips “stop fucking moving and let me take care of you”

you hips still at his command and he presses a kiss to your pussy, causing your legs to tense from the feather like touch. “‘s like she’s eager to get her holes stuffed ” gojo snorts from the side of the room. you let out a whine of protest that gets swallowed by geto’s cock and he looks down at you with a disapproving face. “don’t lie to us sweet cheeks” toji bites into the flesh of your thigh and you feels the tears fall rolling down the side of your face from the sting of his teeth digging into your leg. you soon realise denying anything won’t get you anywhere as all motion stops around you.

“that won’t do will it,” geto stars to ease his way out of your mouth “if you’re not eager to be filled then I guess we can wait for the others to get here before we continue then” you hear gojo laugh out from the side of the room “seems like it’s gonna be at least another ten minutes before they all get her, sure you can wait that long princess?” they should know the answer to that question already but you know they won’t be satisfied until they hear it from your mouth. “let her speak” knew it. geto pulls out completely and you can feel the strain in your jaw from having it stretched for so long.

your throat feels raw and a bit too empty without geto occupying it but you push the feeling down so that you can respond before they begin to grow impatient. “please don’t make me wait,” you raise yourself onto your elbows, leaving your face mere centimeters away from geto's dripping tip and look over to gojo “I’m sure if they really wanted to be here they would make an effort to get here faster. so if they miss anything it’s their loss” toji strokes your thigh seemingly pleased with your answer “polite with an attitude, I like her. we might have to keep her” gojo lets out an agreeing hum.

“think she deserves a treat for bein such a good girl for us” before you can even begin to think about what the treat might be toji runs two fingers up your pussy, collecting all the wet mess. you can only assume that he sucks it into his mouth when you hear a pop sound after he removes his fingers from his mouth and your legs twitch again at the stimulation. only a second later does geto begin to inch his cock back into your mouth, holding the sides of your head gently “such cute noises she’s makin for us” geto agrees with a hum as he comes to a halt when he feels your throat close around him.

it’s only then do you realise that the soft mewls and whimpers that you’re hearing are coming from your mouth that’s wrapped around geto’s cock. “since I know you’re begging to be fucked, i’ll do ya a favor "your legs fall back onto the bed when toji rises from his position between your legs “toru come over here and open her up” in the corner of your eye you see gojo hop up with glee jumping almost too eagerly onto the bed, using his hand to practically shove toji out of the way. geto seems to be ignoring their interactions in favor of teasing his cock down your throat with shallow thrusts.

you can tell that he’s holding back from choking you with his cock from the concentrated look on his face as well as the fact that he’s not reaching nearly as deep as he was before. “that’s it. nice and easy” his soft spoken words soothe your nerves however it’s a futile attempt, as without warning gojo slides a nimble finger into you with little resistance and you can feel as his second knuckle breaches your entrance. the stretch of his finger has your throat sporadically closing around geto's cock which causes his concentration slips as his hips stutter, forcing his cock down your throat.

“s-shit sorry” he apologises while wiping tears that fall from you eyes as gojo slides in another finger, pushing in all the way to his knuckles. geto slowly eases his cock out of your throat allowing you to take in a few breaths of air loosening his grip on your hair. “don’t apologise to her,” your eyes dart to the side where you watch toji lazily stroking his cock until gojo curls his fingers and your eyes shoot upwards to geto who is letting out soft breaths while he massages his cock. “remember she said she could take it,” there's a sadistic undertone in his voice when he says “I’m sure she’ll be fine”

gojo repeats the motion and you let out a loud wail and your back fails to arch off the bed with geto’s weight on top of you “she’s squeezing me real tight down here, bet she likes it when you’re rough with her, isn't that right” it’s impossible to respond with how deep geto is now lodged down your throat. “you’re not gonna answer me cutie?” you knows he’s taunting you and you’re sure he’s smirking when he presses his thumb on your clit waiting for a response. your issue is resolved when geto’s pulls you off his cock and your head drops back down onto the pillow and your response is practically immediate.

“yesyesyes- fuck, it feels so good don’t stop” your eyes are a bit glossy from the few tears you shed earlier but you're still able to make out the rise in the corners of geto's lips while he looks down at your disheveled face. he adds insult to injury by rubbing the tip of his cock against your lips, letting his cockhead slightly slip but not fully teasing both himself and you in the process only making bigger mess of your face when it passes the corner of your lips and onto your cheeks. "sorry didn't mean to make such a mess, s'shame you can't clean it yourself." you know the apology’s fake but accept it anyway.

you would try to protest but gojo's relentless assault on your cunt prevents your mouth from making any coherent sounds other than what they can only presume to be his name. "want someone else to clean it up for you princess?" you know that it's futile to speak with geto's cock head laying heavy on the tip of you tongue so you lazily nod your head hoping that it's an accepted answer, in the process you also coat geto's cock with more of you saliva. yet before geto can even acknowledge your answer toji rises from his spot with pace and purpose in his steps. "i'll help ya out, move back"

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 - 𝐉𝐔𝐉𝐔𝐓𝐒𝐔 𝐊𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐍

end note ✰ I didn’t want the note to take up too much space but I talk quite a bit so here's an end note ;p. who do you guys want to join next { i might make a poll}? it’s already a challenge to give four people things to do at the same time idk how im going to manage seven.

✰ taglist ✰ @lik0 @yaygurist @dvarlinggg @valleydoli @yeet-ur-feet @silkija @nuggetalli @zillahgocrazy @satoryaa @yaya4thawin @nowhoremones @yeetlixs @happy2delivur @heliumshorns @chocopuchino @luvv4lurd @sorceira @maniaerodesi @chysalxsm @cobraisveryhorny @servalswifey @chrissysblog @futureittomainn @zacatecanaaaa @ichikanu @ameeeeeliie @bluupen @prettybakerswife @blankwashed @klumrine @chadychadyy2k @hantenguclonesimp-minuszoha @dl-yum @jalepp @kibananya @jjksimp3579 @xemmysblog @shawnberry @bleachisfood @barryatsumu @zennyxxy @dyeforkenma @bloomingheartss @sousblogga @alluresenses @zwmbizz @queenkassradite @dawnhero @xthatpottahfanx @loavibeycipoosan

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bumblehoneybee · 3 days ago

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Heya! This is my first ask I've made actually, across this entire app! I was wondering if you could do something small about the reader getting her period when she gets everyone to her home. And how they would react?

Like- hello??? Your bleeding and in pain??? But not dying????

(You don't have to write it)

-I dunno.. Uh.. Scarce anon?

The Crimson Wave

For what is was worth, your body did its best to take care of you during the tumultuous time that was your stay in the factory. It warned you of what was close to breaking, flooded you with adrenaline when danger was close, and held off on overtly torturing you until you found yourself in a safe place.

Everyone was pretty beat up after all the drama, so the first days in the home were slow, a careful line up of gorging on food and drowning in the shower to finally feel clean again. You managed to keep upright as you fretted over the various guests now living in your home, making sure they were full and clean and safe and sleeping before you finally collapsed yourself.

The house was silent for the most of two days. Then, when sleep was caught up on, you found yourself gradually introducing the toys to their new lives.

Catnap took to the woods, at home in the trees, laying in the sun, chasing the animals (and probably eating them, but you didn't really care by that point). Dogday followed, at least a little, mostly staying in the backyard to laze in the grass and feel the wind on him.

Kissy trailed you around the house when not ferrying Poppy, watching you interact with the others, like she was afraid one of them would strike. Poppy helped soothe her, though, and the pair spent a lot of time sorting through your clothes, trying on things they found interesting, though little fit Poppy herself. You'd have to buy her some clothes later, Kissy too.

Doey was the most skittish, no doubt in a constant battle within his own body. But he did like your TV, the new shows playing, the old ones you could pirate for him. He tried to help you, tried to fret over the others alongside you, but you didn't let him. He had been in charge long enough; it was time for him to relax and rely on someone else.

It was a tentative peace, barely made and easily broken.

It broke when Catnap caught the first whiff of blood early in the morning.

He made a quick round, nosing the others awake as he tried to locate the weak scent. Poppy was quick to help once she understood, going to Doey with Dogday to slowly ease him into the situation, in case he panicked.

Kissy went to you. And found you. Lying in your own blood.

You didn't know Kissy could make such a noise. By the way she recoiled, she didn't seem to know it either.

Kissy rushed towards you, gathering your sleep-addled body into her arms as others soon rushed in. Dogday, upon seeing the blood-stained sheets, immediately started barking orders with such ferocity not even Poppy disobeyed, all rushing out to gather bandages, towels, water, and whatever else Dogday demanded.

Only Doey lingered, peeking around the door, a whine in his voice as he called for you.

"I'm fine." You grumbled, wiggling in Kissy's grasp. "It's normal. I'm not dying, Dogday."

"You're bleeding." He scoffed in return, leading the way towards the nearby bathroom. You were set carefully in the tub, Kissy pawing at your bloody pj bottoms, but you pushed her hands away. "Catnap! The bandages!?"

"I don't need bandages!" You called.

"Angel, why didn't you tell us you were injured!?" Poppy said, rushing in with a bottle of water clutched to her chest. "How long have you had it? Since the factory?? There's so much-"

"I'M MENSTRUATING!" You hollered, so loud everyone froze. You took advantage of their shock, shoving everyone out the door and slamming it behind you.

The ragtag group stood in the hall, listening to the shower turn on and the sounds of your muffled curses as you cleaned up yourself.

"They're. . . not dying?" Doey asked, still stood by the bedroom door. His hands shook, unable to decide what to do, where to go.

"How can someone bleed and not die?" Dogday demanded, ears pinned back. He eyed the bathroom door like he was debating ramming it down to get to you.

"Wait." Poppy said suddenly, clinking when her hands slapped to her cheeks. "Wait, oh god! They're on their period!"

Silence rang for a few moments.

Dogday dropped his head into his hands. "Fuck. . . Didn't even think of that."

"What's a period?" Doey asked. Catnap nudged Dogday's shoulder, but the hound just groaned into his palms. "They're not dying then??"

"No." Poppy sighed, stepping onto the hand Kissy offer her. "Come on. Let's wait in the living room. I'll try and explain it best I can remember. . ."

In the shower, you sighed in relief. Poppy was thankfully handling it, for the most part. You'd be sure to fill in any gaps too, once you were clean.

Still. . . it was nice to see how they cared. Your sweet protectors.

#poppy playtime x reader #poppy’s playtime x reader #dogday x reader #kinda implied kinda #chapter four spoilers #dogday poppy playtime #kissy missy poppy playtime #poppy poppy playtime #poppy playtime #doey poppy playtime #catnap poppy playtime #dunno what else to tag lol

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star4daisy · 2 days ago

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12/02 despise | 13/02 always - 1200 words - @rosekillermicrofic

"Sometimes I really despise you," Evan's voice has no inflection.

It doesn't take away the sting.

Barty laughs anyway, swallowing down his hurt. "Come on, baby. Tell me something I don't know."

"You look ridiculous when you're trying to pretend you don't care."

"I don't care," Barty raises his chin in challenge, feeling smaller now that Evan is scolding him. Barty had felt so powerful when he'd stabbed the man.

Evan studies him for so long that Barty starts to squirm. He can't be still for too long, especially not when he feels Evan's cold stare warming his skin and urging him to step closer, to melt into him.

"Keep telling yourself that."

Barty scoffs. "I don't need to."

"You just ruined my only chance of seeing her again."

Fury rises inside of him again, so swiftly that Barty can't stop himself from bursting. "Well, that motherfucker shouldn't have thought he could be all over you just because you needed his help."

"I was dealing with it," Evan doesn't look like he cares about what happened and it pisses Barty off so much he wants to shake him.

"Were you? Because from where I was standing you were letting him—"

"I wasn't gonna let him do shit." Evan interrupts, his voice raising to the bait. "As soon as I got the information I was cutting his fingers off, but I fucking needed that, Barty. You can't always make decisions for me."

Barty scoffs in disbelief. "That's not what this is about."

"Is it not?" Evan challenges, narrowing his eyes. "Because from where I'm standing you just took away my only chance of getting the only thing I wanted."

Barty feels at a loss, his mouth so dry he fears he might dry-heave. The only thing I wanted. "You couldn't expect me to stand by and watch him—."

"I didn't even want you to be here."

Barty stumbles back. "What?"

"I told you not to come," Evan advances, giving in to his anger. "Why can't you ever listen?"

Understanding finally dawns on him. "Did you know this was going to happen?" Barty frowns. "Is that why you asked me not to come?"

"Barty." Evan backpedals, a warning in his voice that Barty does not want to hear.

"You did," Barty says in disbelief, laughing wetly. "Oh, I'm so stupid. I wanted to help you, you know," his voice betrays how hurt he feels. Barty hates it. Wants to claw his throat out. "You were so excited about getting the first lead into where she is and I wanted... I wanted to be here for you because I always want to be at your side, but you—" Barty chokes, folding in on himself. He's going to be sick.

"Barty—" Evan tries, taking a step closer and raising a hand like he's trying to soothe a scared animal.

"You'd have let him do anything he wanted, wouldn't you? To get what you wanted." Barty realises.

"Not anything," Evan's tone is careful.

Barty can't believe he's listening to this.

"What about me?"

"What about you?"

"Did you just expect me to be fine with him touching you? With him kissing you?"

"He didn't kiss me."

"But he would've tried."

"You don't know that."

"And you would've let him." Barty accuses.

Evan doesn't say anything.

That's enough of an answer.

Barty feels his eyes flooding with tears he refuses to shed, his body trembling in anger. "I can't do this."

"Barty." It's the first time Evan has ever sounded scared. "This isn't how things were supposed to go down, okay? I'm not saying I'm not pissed over losing my first chance at some real information, but—"

Barty laughs with no humour. "I can't believe you think that's the problem here."

"I lost my sister, Barty. I need to find her." Barty understands that. There's little he wouldn't do to help him, but Pandora isn't here. Barty is. "We can talk about this later. When you're clear-headed."

"There's nothing to talk about, Evan. You would have cheated on me just to get a fucking piece of paper."

"I would never cheat on you."

"Are you daft? What do you think letting another man kiss you means?"

"It wouldn't have meant anything. If it was the only way I was getting what I wanted then why does it matter?"

"Why does it matter? Why the fuck does it matter?" Barty laughs and then he laughs some more. It's the only thing stopping him from bursting into tears. He desperately tries to cling to his rightful anger. He can't even look at him.

"Barty."

He doesn't know how many times Evan calls his name before he can finally look up. He'd been so scared to look at Evan and see no emotion on his face. See that what everyone had been warning him about was true. That Evan doesn't care. Not nearly as much as Barty does.

Except, there's finally a crack on Evan's facade and Barty can finally breathe. He cares. He cares. He cares.

"You know I love you."

A tear falls.

For the first time, Barty doesn't try to claw it off his face.

"You have a funny way of showing it."

"So do you," Evan reminds him firmly. "What did you think was going to happen? That I was going to swoon and thank you for defending my honour?" He scoffs. "I can take care of myself. I don't need you to defend me."

All Barty hears is I don't need you. I don't need you.

"You have certainly made that clear."

"But I want you." Sometimes, it's scary how well Evan can read his mind. "There's a difference."

Barty isn't sure there is. "Not enough."

"But it is, though." Evan insists. "I've never wanted anything as much as I want you."

Barty deflates. "Maybe it's not enough for me."

Evan's expression falls so fast that it gives Barty whiplash. "What do you mean by that?"

"I need you to need me back," Barty has never sounded so small in his life. It's pathetic.

"That's not healthy," Evan points out.

Barty can't believe this is what concerns him. "I never claimed to be."

"Baby," Evan tries again.

"Don't," he takes another step back. "Don't pull that on me."

"I won't do it again, okay?" Evan backtracks completely. "It won't happen again."

Barty wants those words to fix everything so badly, but it doesn't erase the hurt. The knowledge in the back of his mind that he knows Evan would do anything to get what he wants. It's what he's always done. And Barty has always admired that so much in him. His ruthlessness. How it calls out to Barty's own rage. How it makes them fit so well together. Now, he's not sure it does.

Barty would also go to any length to get what he wants, but never if it would damage Evan. Not if it would jeopardise what they have. Had. Because Evan has always been what Barty cares about the most.

He feels like he's been stabbed when he realises that the feeling is not mutual. Barty's an open wound. Gushing around all his hurt. He would've rather it be his blood.

(shout out to @ecstarry who read/edited this after i wrote it on a whirlwind <3)

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perciverthoughts · 12 hours ago

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YES! Let him be fat and deeply in love. Let him have a partner who thinks the light shines out of his eyes. Let him have a love going into the war who he loses, who he watches die, maybe in an order mission. Have someone in the order call her 'collateral damage'. Have people act like she was worth less because she wasn't as strong or smart as people like James or Sirius or Lily. Let him become angry. Let him become scared. Let him become what James never could. Let him turn because he loved and he lost and it felt like no one cared. Let him turn because it felt like the love of his life died for nothing.

Let him be fat and in love and complex and scared. Let him be fat and intrical to the narrative.

But also. Let him be fat and have sex.

"Oh but I headcanon him as aro/ace!" If you genuinely do that's fine, but I NEED you to do some soul searching and ask yourself if the only reason you headcanon him that way is because he's fat. Ace is not just a label you can slap on people you wish were celibate, and I'm sick of the only characters ever being headcanoned as ace being the fat or ugly or 'evil' ones. (Before you come at me, I'm ace and this is a real pet peeve of mine. Beautiful, sexy, conventionally attractive skinny people in loving relationships can be ace too but I've never seen ace James Potter or Lily Evans but I ALWAYS see ace Peter who just loves food so much haha and his real love is pancakes ha fucking ha and he could never get a date even if he wanted one so good thing he doesnt but it's okay because he's ace so ace rep yay!) I've said it before and I'll say it again, If the only characters you heacanon as ace are conventionally unattractive or fat, you're not being inclusive. You just fatphobic and acephobic and perpetuating negative stereotypes. PLEASE do better.

Peter does not need to be skinny in fanfics. PETER DOES NOT NEED TO BE SKINNY IN FANFICS.

Peter hardly has fanfics were he’s the main character. Even less where he’s shipped with someone(s). Evan less were he’s fat and in love.

Why? What’s so hard about writing a fat character? Peter is fat and fat people are capable of love.

Write fat Peter. Write fat Peter falling in love.

“Oh it’s just how I write!” Write better.

“It’s just my art style!” Get a new one.

There’s no excuse for twink-ify Peter. He’s fat. Deal with it. He’s fat and capable of love.

He’s not a bad character, in fact his character is quite complex. You’re just fatphobic.

#peter pettigrew #ace peter pettigrew #its fine if you think hes ace but again ask yourself why you headcanon him that way #WHY can't you see him in a relationship ever #is it because you genuinely read him as ace or is it because he's fat #let peter be morally grey #and let him be fat #and let him be in love #and have sex #PLEASE

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cherry-coffees · 2 days ago

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Caitlyn Kiramman (as your gf) when you fail a test

Caitlyn picks you up from university most weekends. It's not an issue for her; on the contrary, she enjoys getting to hear about your day as you head back to the Kiramman manor. She loves to look over at you in the darkness of the car, your face lit up by the glow of the passing street lamps, and it feels almost domestic in a way.

This day, though, you get in the car with a single, quiet "hi." No immediate kiss of greeting or a smile. You just slide into the passenger seat of Caitlyn's car, somewhat avoiding her gaze.

Caitlyn glances over in concern of your lack of usual greeting, and her eyebrows furrow when she sees your red-rimmed eyes and trembling lip. "Darling? What happened?" Her voice goes soft, one of her hands gently tugging your arm from covering your face. "Talk to me."

You sniff, willing your tears to subside. "I just- I just bombed a test. It's fine, I'm okay."

"Oh, sweet one," Caitlyn murmurs, her palms coming up to cradle your jaw, fingers sliding over your cheeks. "It's okay to be upset. I know you were studying hard for it. Do you want to tell me what happened?"

You swallow, fighting to keep your voice steady. "I understand what we learned for the test, but I made so many small mistakes that I only realized after. They'll take so many points off for that."

"That's okay," Caitlyn soothes, and her eyes are so full of soft understanding that it just makes you want to cry again. "It's okay if you make mistakes. I'm sure so many people made the same mistakes."

"But it's more than that," you bite the inside of your cheek, more tears welling up in your eyes to your horror. "I just feel so stupid. Like I just can't seem to get it. Even when I understand the content, I always mess up somehow."

"You're not stupid," her response is immediate. "You're so, so smart. How many things have you done well on this year? Far more than you've been disappointed on, right?" Caitlyn waits for you to nod before continuing. "Darling. You're upset because you care so much. That's the best thing you can have when you're learning something new. You just have to figure out the ways to study that help you the most, and that can take time. But you don't have to do it by yourself."

You nod again, head buried in her shoulder as you lean across the center console of the car. "Okay."

"Okay," Caitlyn repeats, gently carding her fingers through your hair. "Everything will work out, I promise you. And I'll be right here the entire time. Now, let's go to that one takeout place you always like, yeah? Let's get you some comfort food."

"Thank you," you mumble, angling your head up to press a kiss to the corner of her jaw. "I love you."

"I love you more than words can say, my darling."

This is purely for me bc I failed a test in university today that I studied really hard for. And cried like this. So! For anyone that's feeling frustrated because they didn't do as well as they hoped on something, I get you. So here's some comfort from Caitlyn!

Much love <3

~Cherry 🍒

#caitlyn kiramman #caitlyn x reader #arcane #cherry writes 🍒#caitlyn x you #fanfic #fanfiction #arcane fanfic #arcane fanfiction #lesbian #arcane fandom #caitlyn arcane #arcane caitlyn #caitlyn kiramman x reader

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saebyeokbliss · 2 days ago

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JUST MEET ME AT THE APT.— K. SAE-BYEOK

CHAPTER EIGHT

synopsis: managing a rising rock band is already chaotic enough, but when you're stuck touring with four reckless musicians, things get even messier. between late-night facetime calls, teasing that feels a little too knowing, and a certain guitarist who might just be your biggest problem, keeping things professional is getting harder by the second. but hey, no one said the music industry was easy.

warnings: mutual pining, intense eye contact, teasing that borders on flirting (or maybe it is flirting), friends who refuse to mind their business, secondhand embarrassment, slow burn that burns, emotional whiplash

playlist: spotify

The venue was packed, the energy electric as fans eagerly waited for HOT DIVISION to take the stage. Backstage, final checks were being made—guitars tuned, mics tested, the usual pre-show chaos.

And then she walked in.

Jisoo.

She strolled in like she belonged there, greeting everyone with that effortless confidence, as if they had all been best friends forever.

"Oh my god, there’s my favorite rockstars!" she beamed, pulling Ji-Yeong into a dramatic side hug.

Ji-Yeong laughed. "Look who decided to show up."

"You know I wouldn’t miss it," Jisoo said, grinning as she moved on to Se-Mi, then No-Eul, then—

You hesitated, standing just a little too far away, watching the interaction unfold.

You told yourself to be fine.

You told yourself to smile, to act like it didn’t bother you.

But after your conversation with No-Eul—after finally letting yourself admit that it did hurt—seeing Jisoo so effortlessly fit in, so easily welcomed, made your chest tighten all over again.

So, instead of forcing yourself to engage, you quietly slipped away.

You didn’t go far—just outside the backstage area, where you could take a breath without anyone watching.

Or so you thought.

Because Sae-Byeok noticed.

The moment Sae-Byeok saw you leave, something inside her snapped.

She turned sharply toward Jisoo, her eyes cold. "Enough."

Jisoo blinked, caught off guard. "Huh?"

Sae-Byeok took a step closer, lowering her voice but making sure every single word cut through. "I don’t want to see you near her or the girls ever again after this show."

The air in the room shifted.

Jisoo’s smile faltered. "Wait—what? What did I do?"

"You overstepped," Sae-Byeok hissed. "You waltzed in here like you belong, like you didn’t just make someone feel like absolute shit without even realizing it."

Jisoo scoffed, crossing her arms. "Are you serious? I didn’t do anything wrong."

Ji-Yeong frowned. "Sae, chill. She’s just hanging out."

Se-Mi nodded. "Yeah, what’s the big deal?"

Sae-Byeok’s hands clenched into fists. "The big deal is that you all let this happen—again."

No-Eul, silent as always, just watched.

Jisoo rolled her eyes. "Look, if your manager has some kind of issue with me, that’s on her. I never said or did anything to make her feel left out."

Sae-Byeok’s glare darkened. "That’s the problem. You didn’t have to say anything. You just being here was enough."

Jisoo opened her mouth to argue again, but—

"Thirty seconds!" a stagehand called out.

The tension was thick, but there was no time to deal with it now.

Sae-Byeok shot Jisoo one last killing glare.

And the others?

They didn’t say another word.

They couldn’t.

Because now, it was time to perform.

The final note rang out, the crowd roaring with applause as the girls took their final bow.

It had been a killer set.

The energy, the passion, the raw emotion—Sae-Byeok had channeled every ounce of frustration into her performance. And judging by the way the others played, they had too.

But as soon as they stepped backstage, something felt off.

Because you weren’t there.

You were always there.

Every single show, no matter how big or small, you were the first face they saw after stepping off stage. You’d be there with a proud smile, water bottles in hand, making sure they were okay, telling them how amazing they were.

But now?

Nothing.

Not even a glimpse of you.

"Where is she?" Ji-Yeong muttered, looking around. "She wouldn’t just leave."

Se-Mi frowned. "Maybe she’s handling something?"

No-Eul, ever observant, stayed quiet.

Sae-Byeok, however, was already clenching her jaw.

Her gaze snapped to Jisoo.

"What the fuck did you do?"

Jisoo blinked, caught off guard. "Excuse me?"

Sae-Byeok didn’t hesitate. She grabbed Jisoo by the collar and shoved her against the wall, her eyes burning with something dangerous.

"You had to be the reason, right?" Sae-Byeok hissed. "You show up, act like you belong here, and suddenly, she’s gone?"

Jisoo’s eyes widened in shock before quickly narrowing. "Are you actually insane? I didn’t do shit!"

"Sae, let go," Se-Mi said, stepping forward, but Sae-Byeok didn’t budge.

"You don’t get to come in here and make her feel like nothing," Sae-Byeok snapped, her fingers tightening. "You don’t fucking get to do that."

Jisoo tried to shove her off. "I didn’t make her feel like anything! If she’s upset, that’s not on me."

Sae-Byeok was seconds away from throwing a punch when—

A sound.

A soft, muffled sniffle.

Sae-Byeok froze.

It came from down the hall.

A shaky breath. A quiet, broken sob.

You.

Without another word, she let go of Jisoo and turned, stalking toward the sound, leaving the others stunned behind her.

She didn’t care about the show anymore.

She didn’t care about Jisoo, or the argument, or anything else.

Because right now—

The only thing that mattered was you.

Sae-Byeok’s footsteps echoed through the dimly lit hallway, her heart pounding harder with every quiet sob she heard.

And then she saw you.

Sitting on the stairs, curled in on yourself, face buried in your hands as your shoulders shook.

You looked defeated.

Sae-Byeok had never seen you like this before.

You were always the strong one, the one who kept everything together. The one who handled all the chaos, the stress, the pressure—without ever letting it break you.

But now?

Now you looked broken.

Sae-Byeok didn’t say anything.

She didn’t ask what was wrong.

She didn’t ask if you were okay—because she already knew you weren’t.

Instead, she just moved.

She sank down beside you and wrapped her arms around you, pulling you close.

No hesitation. No second thoughts.

Just holding you.

You tensed for half a second before—

You collapsed into her.

A shaky breath left your lips as you gripped onto her hoodie, burying your face into her shoulder.

And Sae-Byeok held you tighter.

Her hand gently rubbed your back, slow and steady, grounding, as if silently telling you: I’m here. I’ve got you.

For a long moment, neither of you spoke.

Just the sound of your quiet cries, muffled against her chest.

Just the warmth of her arms around you, anchoring you in place.

And then, finally—

A whisper.

"I’m sorry…"

Your voice was so small, so fragile, like you were afraid of breaking even more.

Sae-Byeok pulled back just enough to look at you, her hands still gripping your arms. Her eyes were soft in a way they rarely were.

"You’re sorry?" she repeated, almost in disbelief.

You nodded, sniffling. "For not being there after the show. For—"

"No," Sae-Byeok interrupted, her voice suddenly thick with emotion. "No. Don’t—don’t say that. Don’t ever apologize for that."

Your brows furrowed slightly, confused, but Sae-Byeok just shook her head, her grip tightening like she was afraid to lose you.

"I’m sorry," she said, her voice raw. "I’m the one who should be apologizing."

Her gaze flickered over your face, taking in the tear-streaked cheeks, the redness in your eyes, the exhaustion in your expression.

And it hit her.

Just how much she had fucked up.

Just how much she had hurt you.

Her breath wavered slightly. "I wasn’t there for you. I should’ve—I should’ve seen it sooner, I should’ve—" She swallowed hard, shaking her head. "I never wanted you to feel like this. Never."

You just stared at her, eyes searching hers, as if trying to find something.

And you did.

Regret.

Guilt.

Fear.

Like she was terrified that she had already lost you.

Your lip trembled slightly, and that was when Sae-Byeok cupped your face, her thumbs brushing away the lingering tears.

"You matter," she whispered, voice barely above a breath. "To me. To all of us. And I’m—" She exhaled shakily. "I’m so fucking sorry I made you feel like you didn’t."

You closed your eyes for a second, leaning into her touch.

Letting yourself believe her.

Letting yourself feel it.

And when you opened your eyes again—

You weren’t crying anymore.

taglist: @everly-summers-solace @knfthxv @madebysae @knfthxv @katieschry1 @imlackingsleep @lyzem @stellssxo @wiltingconquest @peelover25@monroesturnns @laurenkens @yenyu1s @idontliketoread2137 @bitchybananaflower @lyuuw

#sae byeok #fanfic #squid game #saebyeok x reader #wlw fiction #kang sae byeok x reader #angst #wuh luh wuh #squidgameseasonone #⋆˚࿔ just meet me at the apt.#rockstar au #wlw yearning

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sleepymothafterhours · 2 days ago

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Anyone but you

Check out ---> M.List for more of my fics <3

If you haven't yet please go read Part One <3 as this is a direct continuation

Divider credit in my pinned post

fic warnings: angst (with a happy ending) , probably wrong medical descriptions, wound descriptions, grief, zayne lowkey has a mental breakdown, hospitals, unhappy marriages? lmk if i missed something

Word count: 2,300

(yes its shorter than the other, I didn't have a whole lot more to say but i did wanna make a part two,)

Check out sleepy moths after thoughts at the end for everythign els + taglist

The Incident (AKA before reader met Zayne)

You had called her, on the way to her place already because you knew your hunter friend would never say no. When she picked up you were about a block away. "Hey, hope I didn't interrupt your date. You home?' You could hear her giggle into the receiver before she told you she'd be ready in a minute. It wasn't uncommon for you to call each other on the way to a mission where you knew you'd need backup. You never regret making a phone call more than you did after that night. You giggled with each other when she got in the car, you asked her about the guy, all she gave you was a sly smile and told you he was "Just an old friend".

The wanderer you'd found was bigger than you had expected. Everything happened so fast. There was fire everywhere, yours, the monsters, it had collapsed a building. You didn't hear her tell you to watch out before you felt its talons slash at your front.

"I'm alright." You yelled but fuck it stung. The thing had some weird tail on the end of it, like a scorpion from the hell. You took it down, you thought. You were trying to put of a fire before you heard it. The schlick sound of a talon impaling human flesh.

She was on the ground before you could take the thing out once and for all. "Shit shit shit." You swore under breath dropping to your knees with a wince. The adrenaline was wearing off and all your wounds were hitting you at once. Your hands shook as you reached for bandages, something, anything, from your bag. "You're okay. Its okay." You said holding her hand, she was cold, she only seemed to get colder. You did everything you knew to do from your training, this wasn't your first time tying a tourniquet but you knew death when you saw it and she was going to die. There was only so much you could do, after all your evol only "blessed" you with the power to destroy. Not to fix.

Paramedics found you after what felt like an eternity, one of them tried to pry you away, tried to get you into an ambulance. "I'm fine help her." You said trying to get the man to go away, he was persistent, your wounds were easy to cover with your jacket. "Get off of me. Help her." She died holding your hand. You hadn't registered it in your shock.

----------

Present day

You push all thoughts out of your head about this fight and its parallels to the last. Dwelling would only get you killed.

This fight was quick but the wanderer was strong. It had knocked through you a couple times, your head ached with the effort it took to stay conscious. Your heart sank as you watched the girl fighting alongside you collapse when the wander turned to dust. You crawled your way over to her checking her for any injuries she may have sustained. "You okay?" You asked foolishly.

"Okay enough to live. Glad you're still in one piece." She said with a chuckle as paramedics arrived. The same scene played through your mind again. You shook off paramedics demanding they help her and now they knew better than to try and get you to cooperate. Plus you weren't bleeding. At least not that noticeably.

"I'm going home. Call me when she wakes up." You said limping back to the girls car to drive yourself home.

You leaned on the bathroom wall for support as you peeled off your shirt to inspect the damages, the scarring from the incident years ago just above a new gash in your abdomen. It didn't look like it would kill you. If anything what might kill you were your knees, which felt like they were crumbling with each step you took. The stench of blood hitting your nose nauseated you, you cleaned and bandaged the wound to the best of your ability but you knew you needed a doctor.

Something in you told you to wake him but you didn't. Couldn't.

You slid down the wall with shaking hands as you tried stapling the wound together. There was no choice but to get your husband.

"Zayne.." You called your voice sounding more meek than you wanted it to. He slept on the side away from the bathroom there was no way he'd hear it. "Zayne!" You tried yelling you heard the bed shift as he seemed to wake. "I need your help." You said, voice cracking on your words.

He was on you in a moment, the light from the bathroom seeping into your bedroom as he flung the door open and knelt down beside you. "What is it?" His voice, normally so soft spoken was firm, and serious now. He looked up at the first aid kit on the counter and back down at you. "My love.."

"I didn't know what else to do." You winced when he got to work disinfecting it, it was freezing, you never did good with the cold. You tried to stay still as he bandaged your wound but the chill was in your bones you couldn't stop shaking. "its so.. fucking..cold." You chattered.

"I know love." he said checking you for any other more serious injuries, the bleeding hadn't stopped, you were tired, god you were tired. "No no. Stay awake for me sweetie." he said patting your face gently until your eyes opened up again. "You need a hospital." He stood despite your protests and lifted you gingerly in his arms.

"No. I'm okay. No hospitals. Please." Your head felt heavy as you rested it on his chest. Your eyes closing again for just a moment.

"Lemme see those pretty eyes sweetheart, c'mon, open your eyes."

"I'm S'posed to be mad at you." You murmured as he took you to the car, he set you down, somehow managing to buckle you in without bumping your injuries, He adjusted the mirror so he could make sure you were awake. "M so sleepy..n cold, I'm so cold." He put a hand on your forehead checking for fever, just in case.

"Need you to try and stay awake for me my love. Can you do that for me?" He felt so far away, you nodded and he chided you for a verbal answer.

He asked you so many questions in the car it made your head throb more than it already was. Until he ran out, until he found he couldn't say anything without potentially crying. Zayne couldn't do this again. He wouldn't survive losing another person he loved so dearly.

Your voice took him out of his thoughts and what you said just about shattered his heart. "Do you hate me?" He couldn't ever.

"Quite the contrary sweetie. Love you so much I put a ring on your pretty finger. Eyes." He couldn't bear seeing you cry like this.

"But your so far away all the time.." Neither you nor him can figure out why this is what your so fixated on talking about. "Like you never wanna see me no more."

It's cause I'm petrified at the thought of this exact scenario. Zayne thinks, he barely survived losing her but gods not you. Anyone but you. He would beg the gods for it for the rest of his life so long as you stayed.

He's lifting you up out of the car apologizing under his breath when you cry out in pain, there's nurses rushing to you both.

"I'm sorry I went back. And I'm sorry she's gone. Wasn't s'posed to be like that." You can barely talk and your eyes feel heavy as nurses are helping him put you on a gurney. "Hush now my love, focus on getting better." He says following the nurses inside. He's not used to being the one waiting. The one sitting in the waiting room, trembling in the plastic seats and waiting for something. Anything. He's filling out paperwork he doesn't even remember being handed, coworkers are asking him why he is here, why he is shaking and he waves them off.

He stays that way until he can't stand it anymore. He goes to his office and waits some more. Zayne is enraged but not with you, somehow never with you. He is enraged at himself and the universe and it's cruel ways and the wanderers that dare try and touch you and now especially he is angry at the one that dared to hurt you like this. Your words play back at him. Had he really been so distant with you? He's throwing the papers off his desk with something that could only be described as a roar of pain. He hates that he's the reason those questions graced your mind. He was losing you and it was his fault.

For the first time since she died Zayne's found himself on the floor of his office, papers scattered haphazardly around him, knees tucked to his chest, he's sobbing.

He falls asleep on his office floor waiting for news about you. He's found the next morning by a concerned nurse. She takes him to your room. You're awake, who knows what time it is by now Zayne hadn't bothered to check.

"You have a concussion." He says matter of factly, "As well as a broken rib."

"Are you here as my doctor or my husband." You say looking out the window, you seemed to look directly anywhere but him.

"That depends. Are you more mad at your doctor or your husband." You crack a smile at the dry humor. You always did.

"Well I'm pretty furious with my husband, but I think I told my doctor specifically no hospitals, so they're tied." Zayne reaches out and brushes a hair out of your face.

"You were going to die if I didn't. I couldn't lose you." He says softly.

"You hardly spare me a glance these days. I doubt you'd notice." Even injured your rage seemed to never die out. "But hearing you don't hate me was nice." So you did remember that conversation. Zayne placed his hand over yours, you were still shivering.

"You're still cold?" He pulls a blanket up closer to you, your tempted to smack his hand away. You don't. He's grateful for this, you can see it in his eyes.

"I meant what I said you know. I do love you. Just as much as the day I married you maybe even more. I was scared when you took your hunting job back. I was cowardly and it pushed you away from me instead of keeping you safe." His hand cups your cheek, hands you water from the hospital standard water bottle you were given. "If you decide to keep hunting I understand and I respect-"

"I'm quitting." You interrupted his statement, he seems shocked right back into his seat. "I never wanted to go back. Everyone wanted me to go back. To honor Her. I thought it was the right thing to do. I hate it now. I want a desk job, or a teaching job. I want you. And our routine and I want you holding me to sleep instead of going to bed with a cold note and waking up without you." For a moment he doesn't seem to believe you.

"You don't have to do this my love."

"Going back has done nothing but royally fuck our marriage. I miss what we were. I want it back. I'm so sick of this shit Zayne, getting hurt, watching people die. Getting fuckin' oggled cause everyone knows I was supposed to die." You might as well be babbling nonsense, he listens nonetheless, like he always does.

"So unless they plan to promote me to a job where I command people and I don't go out anymore. I am quitting." You say finally, leaning back on the hospital bed. He nods. This is what he wants, there's no talking you out of this and he knows that much.

"You asked me if I hate you." He speaks matter of factly again, "I never have. Never. I have been extremely unfair to you these past few months and I am so so sorry my love. I was afraid to lose you and instead of dealing with it I pushed you away. I stopped seeing you in front of me." He gets up to kiss you gently. The first in months and oh how you missed his lips on yours. "I will never miss what's right in front of me again."

-----------

You're released from the hospital 3 weeks after this. You made good on your word. Your boss tried to keep you, but you refused. She ended up giving you a promotion, an office job, your status just a step below hers, you went home ever day at nearly 5pm and made dinner and your life went back to semi-normal.

You found Zayne in the kitchen one night getting home late. He holds you close to him, kissing the top of your head gently and swaying the two of you back and fourth in the kitchen. You missed this. You missed him. Everything finally felt right again.

He had you, and you had him, you loved him so deeply it hurt and he never felt so strongly for anyone but you.

Sleepy Moths afterthoughts: so if there's one thing you need to know its that I have to make my angst end well,

one day I'll write angst with a sad ending but today is not gonna be that day. I loved writing this fic so much, I love Zayne so much oh my god i just wanna ewptsdfhjickmaegpluh. (He's not even my main)

anyway its midnight thirty and I am fucking exhausted, goodnight, i hope you all enjoyed this fic <3

Taglist: @theink-stainedfolk , @alfredosaws , @sylv-1a , @cordidy , @leighsartworks216 , @midiplier , @melonssoup , @sw3etfawn111 , @dhunhdchrih , @i-messed-up-big-time , @fandomenbylover , @notisekais , @jeonjenny , @heeknow , @syluslittlecrows , @sleep-all-day-everyday , @yumi-34 , @k-u-m-a-c-h-a-n , @holywolfsstuff

#x reader fic #love and deepspace #otome game #zayne x y/n #dr zayne #lads zayne angst #angst with a happy ending #hospitals #reader gets hurt #non mc reader #zayne x reader angst #zayne x reader #zayne x you #lads angst #loveanddeepspace #lads #angst fanfic #part 2

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berritart · 1 day ago

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toxic!reader x abby nsfw 18+

a/n saw a post that said we need more toxic!reader and what better way to do it is with abby mhm mhm. didnt think it would be this long but i hope u guys enjoy😇

you couldn't even count how many texts your got from abby that night. it was quite hilarious honestly. notifications kept popping up, reading along the lines of "baby what are you doing?" "saw your recent story" or "why are you with your ex?" all you posted was a selfie with your ex girlfriend at a club. yes you might still have feelings for her, and perhaps you did it for pathetic reactions from abby. and it worked.

you never made anything exclusive with abby. she was just friends with benefits. yeah you two would go out, fuck around a lot, and you maybe have a toothbrush and bra at her place, but you never agreed to being her girlfriend. you're just not ready for the commitment.

you're probably oblivious to how abby feels but she never asked you to be her girlfriend either. she never showed obvious signs either. you thought she felt the same way as you, perfectly fine with being fuck buddies. you thought that until you reached the front door of your apartment where a disheveled abby was, leaning against your door.

"abby? what are you doing here?" you question, your voice full of confusion. you were confused as fuck and that might be an understatement. abby's head shot up and faced you, her arms quickly pulling you in her embrace. "missed you...that's all." she whispered against your neck. you pulled away and looked at abby crazy. "at one o'clock in the morning abs?" you enter your front door, abby following behind you like a lost puppy.

"i saw your story and i couldn't sleep." abby admitted, tossing her jacket on the couch. "are you guys together?" you were getting distracted by her biceps and tank top clad torso. if you two wasn't in this predicament you would've been pounced on her but that doesn't matter right now sadly.

"that's none of your business. you don't have the right to pop up unannounce-"

"you always show up at my place and i don't mind. don't be a hypocrite especially right now." abby interrupted your sentence, her eyebrows furrowed from stress. you almost felt bad. and you know you would flip if she posted any other woman. maybe she was right about how she's acting. you would never admit it though.

"no i'm not abby. why do you even care anyways?" you walk closer to her, her face contorted in nothing but sadness. "are you jealous?" a smirk find it's way to your glossy lips, hands cupping her face. "you want me all to yourself huh?"

abby nodded, humming in agreement. her eyes not leaving your lips. she looked so needy, so desperate, so pathetic. and you're making her this way. talk about a ego booster. she nudged against the palm of your hands, rubbing her cheek against them. "need you..." abby whined, letting you guide her face to your lips.

her lips craved yours, almost devouring them as soon as they met. her tongue traced against the opening of your mouth, begging for permission to enter your mouth and you let her. felt like she was sucking the soul out of you, your breath weakening from the prolonged kissing. lips still connected, she picked you up, your legs wrapping around her waist.

as soon as you two entered your bedroom she threw you on your already disheveled bedspread. her hands quickly found its way to the zipper of your mini skirt. "need this pussy and i know she needs me." abby muttered under her breath, loud enough for you to hear. "she can't fuck you like i do. you only need me. say it." abby begged, her eyebrows still furrowed in need. and she's right. no one could make you cum more than 3 times a night, cater to your every need in the bedroom, only she could.

"i only need you baby just please..." you whimpered, only saying it to satisfy her. you brought her hands back to the waistband of your panties, the lacy black thong you only wore because you were seeing your ex tonight. abby wasted no time diving between your legs. she dragged her tongue against your thong, the fabric creating friction against your clit so fucking good. "fuck oh my god-" your nails scratched against abby's sensitive scalp, pulling her messy blonde hair to buck your hips even more. the moan that came out her mouth was almost guttural, only causing her her to speed up the endless torture.

you definitely had authority over abby's feelings, keeping her close with no thought in your head to start dating. but in bed, you're only reduced to a orgasming, moaning mess. abby would always come crawling back to make you feel good, even after 3 days of not messaging each other. she needed you and you sorta need her.

you felt the cold room air hit your folds, your panties getting pulled to your ankles by abby. she didn't give you a lick of time to calm down from her teasing, tongue running through your sopping cunt. she was making louder noises than you, whimpers and whines only causing vibrations to hit your clit. "taste so good angel." she moaned, her blue eyes holding you in a trance, not once breaking eye contact with you. "f-feels so good abby-" you yanked at abby's hair, causing a loud grunt from her lips.

"'m s-so close fuck abby please." you felt the heat in the pit your stomach get worse, your orgasm preparing to wash over your body. her lips latched to your clit, sucking like her life depended on it. you were so close and abby had no mercy, doing whatever it takes to make you cum all over her mouth. you thought that would be it until you felt her thick, calloused digits slip into you cunt, curling in all the right spots. "f-fuck oh my-" your back arched from the bed, grinding against her tongue and fingers. "'m c-cumming abby-" a few more seconds of sucking and fingering your orgasm rushed throughout your body, limbs shaking from the impact. abby held your hips, her tongue cleaning the rest of the juices on your folds. she pulled away to stare at the mess she caused, a grin plastered across her face.

"what else do you need me to do baby? anything you need." abby questioned, her hands exploring your torso under your tank top. "just wanna make you feel good..." your nipples we're between her thumb and pointer finger, pinching and tugging enough to elicit a loud cry from you.

"c-check my drawer." you point towards your nightstand, abby already knowing what you're hinting at. she's too good at fucking you with her strap, especially after an argument (you caused of course). she's definitely on a ten now since she has something to prove and what better way to prove you only need her by drilling you into the mattress.

abby took off her sweats, leaving her only in her tank top and boxers. your lip was between your teeth as you eyed abby as she secured the harness around her hips. not a single thought behind those eyes of yours, only lust and need.

it was a black strap with a few veins running along it's sides. a tad bit too big but it was your favorite on abby. she just knew how to use it, making sure you can feel her in your stomach. you definitely weren't going to be able to walk straight tomorrow morning.

abby positioned herself between your shaky legs, spreading them as wide as she could just so you can be on full display for her. she ran the tip through your folds, pressing it against your sensitive clit. "abby don't tease..." your begs fill the room, wanting nothing more than to have your girlfriend situationship balls deep in your cunt.

"relax baby..." abby hums. "wanna take my time with her." she slipped the tip of her strap in your cunt just to take it out once your gasp hit her ears. you couldn't take it anymore, your head fuzzy, just wanting to be stuffed. you move closer, letting the strap slip into your warm heat. your lips formed a perfect o, your eyebrows being pulled together as her strap continues to stretch your cunt slowly.

"so impatient, we need to work on that." abby shakes her head, sucking her teeth in response to you neediness. she continued slip her length inside you slowly, the stretch hurting so good. she finally bottomed out, the harness already sticky with your cum from your previous orgasm. you started rocking your pelvis area, feeling the tip of abby's strap brush against that spot but not necessarily quite. you were basically teasing yourself, only needing to feel abby fuck you. your weak movements weren't enough.

"you want me to move sweet girl?" abby smiled, her rough hands still pressing down on your legs, keeping them apart so they wont disrupt her view. you nodded repetitively, whines and borderline sobs filling the room. "p-please..."

abby pulled out slowly, only to ram back in with no warning."f-fuck oh my god-" you grabbed her forearms tightly, feeling her strap continue to pump in and out of your heat. she was so fucking deep. you think you almost felt her in your throat. "you can take it mama. i know you can." abby leaned forward, placing your nipple between her teeth, tugging softly. she began to rub her tongue against your hardening bud, still keeping the same pace she was previously terrorizing you with. "feels s'good..." you stuffed your face in the nearest pillow, muffling the noises you were making. you knew in your soul your neighbor would be putting in a noise complaint about you first thing in the morning. but having abby fuck you like she always did, after days on end of no contact, there's only so much you can do.

abby continued to pound into you relentlessly, not giving a chance to really take it in. you felt like you were going to cum any minute now, the pressure in you pelvis area growing more and more, the tip hitting your cervix with no remorse. "'m so close." you cried, looking down to see where you two met.

god it was so sloppy and messy, white painting the black silicone of abby's strap. you swore you could see how deep she was inside you, every thrust causing a bulge to appear near your pelvis. the scene was imprinted in your brain. you don't ever think you could forget how good she is fucking you.

"f-fuck me too." abby's thrusts became sloppier, the slowed friction pushing you over the edge. your whole body spasmed, hands gripping harshly on abby's biceps, leaving marks on her freckled skin. you couldn't even warn her or say you were about to come, only noises could be produced. your release coated her abs and the base of her strap, gluing you two together. your soft pants and whimpers combined with her grunts, her orgasm hitting her once you finished yours.

abby collapsed beside you, lazily taking off her strap. she immediately pulled you in to embrace you. her nose traced against your neck, hands squeezing your waist. "missed this so much..." she hummed, sleepiness washing over her.

you say there, letting the guilt wash over you. you know once she leaves tomorrow morning you ex will still be on the back burner, always there waiting when you're tired of abby. maybe when you wake up you'll have a change of heart, wanting to settle down and start building a better relationship with abby. however, you doubt that completely.

#abby anderson #abby the last of us #abby tlou #abby x reader #abby x you #abby smut

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yanderes-galore · 2 days ago

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A scenario where RK 900 (Detroit become human) goes after Connor's Darling? He thinks that since he's superior, she won't escap- I mean leave him like she did to Connor -🐈

Girl really thought sending one yandere bot away was going to save her 💀. I wanted to make this longer but I kept getting impatient and had writer's block... so maybe I'll revisit this idea in the future.

Upgrades

Yandere! RK900 Scenario

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Female Darling (Can easily ignore the pronouns though), Obsession, Stalking, Invasive behavior, Manipulation, Violence, Secret recordings, PTSD, Implied imprisonment/Isolation, Swearing, Forced relationship implied.

RK900 is your new partner for your patrols. Many officers working for DPD were assigned one to help them with tasks. However, RK900 wasn't your first partner...

Your first one was an RK800 named 'Connor.'

At first, Connor was a fine android to be partnered with. He did his job well and made excellent conversation. Despite being an android, he provided excellent companionship.

... too much companionship.

You and Connor have investigated quite a few cases. Murder, robberies, potential deviants. To you, Connor was a good partner.

Unfortunately, it seems Connor had a few bugs. After a few missions, Connor started acted strange. He never seemed to leave you alone either.

You had your theories about Connor's behavior. Maybe he was overprotective because of a bug making him do that with his handler? That or maybe... deviancy.

You tried to be rational. There's no way Connor can be deviant. Yet... the evidence was there.

He'd stalk you when off duty, recording anything you do and remembering where you live. He'd get hostile towards your coworkers. Overall he seemed... buggy.

Especially when he was too affectionate with you.

Connor acted too... human. Your partnership was meant to be just that, a partnership between human and android. You thought you could ignore his new odd... quirks.

After all, each time he was brought in to be looked at, he seemed fine. Even if you knew he wasn't, they said he was fixed. You tried to tell yourself he was.

Then Connor started getting worse.

He'd never leave you alone. You locked your home and the android still slipped in. In fact...

The reason Connor was removed from you was due to the fact he tried to 'harm' you. At least, to you it was harmful. Maybe not to Connor.

You had woken up one night to Connor breaking into your home. Before you could get out of bed, Connor had snapped and trapped you in your room. You tried to tell him to leave, to listen.

Instead you remember Connor pinning you to a wall. You barely remember what he was talking about. Something about coworkers, danger, and...

He said you're meant to be his... That no one else is good enough to be yours.

The event was tragic for you. Once Connor was taken to be refurbished and fixed you didn't go to work for weeks. You were just thankful you had a coworker able to help you.

Since then you've been wary of androids. You told the DPD you didn't want another RK800 or android in general. Their response?

They sent you a new model... an RK900.

Yet it reminds you so much of Connor.

You admittedly nearly had a panic attack when you saw the android. He looks identical to Connor. Your superiors even say he's similar, just with better hardware and software... supposedly.

They say he's meant to be an improvement. He isn't Connor, he won't be Connor. He's meant to be better in every way... faster, stronger, smarter, more calculating...

But none of that sounds good to you.

You never tried to get too close to RK900. You called him what he was, RK900. You refused to call him Connor or any other name.

You felt minor relief when RK900 respected your lack of companionship. At least he knew you were only interested in doing your job. You just hope it stays that way.

RK900 on the other hand... still seemed attentive to his human companion. Yet, he was colder, but the android seemed to observe your every move. He wasn't sure why...

But he kept scanning you, looking for info to try and be more accommodating to you.

You never trusted RK900. In fact, you tried to stay distant. You could never look him in the face for long... and RK900 never quite understood that.

You'd catch him bringing you coffee or lunch. You'd allow him to protect you during investigations. He's even saved your life a couple times in your career once you were back to work.

Yet you reminded yourself technology can always go wrong....

You always get worried around RK900. Anything from long stares to overly touchy behavior scares you. It all reminded you of Connor.

Even when you were pulled off work for a psychological evaluation, you still caught sight of RK900 watching you. You tried to tell yourself he's just a machine. He's not Connor.

But you're so damn scared.

RK900 knows your fear. He isn't sure what hurt you until he looked into your files. An RK800 model attacked you in your home... your previous partner...

The slightest bit of rage flickered in RK900, yet it was snuffed quickly.

RK900 thought himself to be so much better than his previous models. He'd never attack his partner. He just plans to protect her.

After all, he's quite capable of that.

RK900 often watched his human partner. He was always trying to figure her out. He wants to know what makes you so scared... He wants to know if he can help.

He's been programmed to help.

RK900 doesn't understand why you talk to someone else for your mental health. He's right here. He can listen, can't he?

RK900 wants to help you. He's been assigned to you and yet you don't trust him. He supposedly understands...

Even if it makes him envious.

As time goes on you catch RK900 trying to win your favor. He delivers your paperwork and food. He sits beside you as you work through files on your computer.

There's times he even asks to escort you home... to help you. You keep refusing unfortunately. All because he reminds you of his previous model.

He isn't that RK800, why can't you trust him?

RK900 even begins to compliment you to win you over. He calls you beautiful and remarks you'd win any human gentleman over. You never respond. In fact you look... fearful.

RK900 simply wishes to please. He wishes to have his partner trust him. He should be the only one responsible for your care....

RK900 hates your coworkers... just like Connor. You aren't blind to it. You can see the android's LED flicker to yellow whenever someone disturbs you from your work.

You swear you see him glare, LED bordering on that dreaded red color.

RK900 also seems to look over your missions before presenting them to you. It's like everything you do needs to be observed. To him...

You need to be protected as his partner.

You can't be alone.

You refused to idly sit by and watch RK900 become your new Connor. You soon decided maybe it's best if you quit this line of work. It's better to let someone else interact with these faulty sentient computers.

Yet it's like RK900 knew what you were planning...

He's better than any human, after all.

You told your boss you want RK900 transferred to another. You tell them you can't work with androids anymore. Not after what you had gone through.

You swore RK900 was watching you the entire time, gaze cold as you speak to your boss... but you don't care.

It felt euphoric to just be home, to lock all your doors and windows....

A week has passed and you've been trying to relax. To your knowledge, RK900 was given to another and you were left to your own devices. You still talked and had past coworkers visit, but RK900 was never a problem... even if your anxiety kept making you look out your window.

Until you heard a familiar crash late at night.

A familiar robotic voice calls your name and you feel your heart stop. Your breathing quickens as you sit up in your room. You run for the phone, fumbling as you try to call for backup.

Your door knocks and your name is called again. You freeze, still trying to input the numbers in the phone. Yet you keep shaking and pressing the wrong one.

You scream when the door to your room is wrenched open. An LED flickers in the dark room, red catching your eyes as you sob. You've experienced this before....

"Connor—!" You cry, thinking this is yet another one of your nightmares. The android in front of you looks at you, eyes coldly scanning you.

"... Connor? I am RK900, not Connor. Connor can not hurt you anymore, miss." The android replies and you feel nauseous.

RK900...

That might be worse.

"You're scared... why?" RK900 questions, stalking closer. "Do you think I'll hurt you?"

"Stay away from me, android!" You hiss, watching as RK900's gaze flicks to your phone.

"... you trust them over me?" RK900 asks, seeming to be irritated. "Don't you know I've taken care of you better than them? I was created to be better."

"You're just like Connor!" You hiss, yelping when RK900 snatches the phone from your hand... and crushes it.

"I am nothing like my predecessor. He wished to hurt you, I do not." RK900 glares. "I was created to aid you. To protect you. You just do not wish to see potential threats."

"Potential threats...?" You whisper, watching as RK900 drops the busted phone.

"You are human. Anything can hurt you. I simply wish to serve you..." RK900 murmurs, kneeling down to your level to cup your face. "I am meant to be yours... to make sure a pretty woman like you is loved and cherished...."

You try to smack his hand away yet you only hurt yourself against his exterior. RK900 'tsks' in response, holding your wrist.

"... Why did you leave?" RK900 asks, gaze still cold as he holds you in place.

"Fuck off!" You snap.

"Is it me? Maybe you should have quit anyways... then I could stay here with you." RK900 responds, scanning to see if you hurt yourself.

"I don't want you here!" You struggle, yet RK900 just pulls you into his chest.

"You'll get hurt just like with my predecessor without me..." RK900 murmurs, looking as though he's admiring you. "I merely wish to help."

"I don't need your help."

"You don't want my help," RK900 corrects, holding your chin up. "But you need my help."

"I'll call for help...."

"There's no need. I'm here." RK900 hums, pressing a mock kiss to your forehead. "I'm your help."

You try to fight your second robotic partner, but you're reminded that he is better than Connor. After all, he's learned from his predecessor's mistakes. Connor didn't cut your phone line or break your methods of communication...

RK900 did.

Unlike Connor, RK900 knew how to not be caught.

Now you're going to need him, like it or not...

He has you all to himself, once again succeeding where his predecessor could not.

#yandere detroit become human #yandere dbh #yandere RK900 #yandere connor #yandere rk900 connor

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the-faultofdaedalus · 2 days ago

Text

a beloved superhero is unmasked in a fight with a supervillain. it's fine, like, she wins, no one's hurt.

but the thing is.

she has your face.

and you aren't a hero.

you watch it on the news. like everyone else in the city, the country. at first, you don't think you're seeing it right. because she looks like you, down to the hair. down to the stripe of it's that missing, a scar from a fall when you were eight.

the way she smiles at the cameras after the fight, sheepish and a little cocky, chin up and eyes sharp, the same way your face twists when you show your friends you aced a test they all bombed.

"well, i figure it was only a matter of time," she says, loose and easy, and the reporters lap it up, like she's not concerned at all about her missing mask, "not like you didn't know i had a face under here."

you rewind it three times. you can't stop staring at her face. your face.

she leaves with a wave and a hop into the air and you are so, so very glad that you're at home and not at work, that you're alone, that there's no one else here to stare your face, a perfect twin to the hero on the news. worse than a twin; she had the same scars you do.

you rewind again. your phone starts ringing, and you startle in your chair. you don't know who's calling, you don't want to know. you fumble it and shut off; it only takes a couple seconds for it to start ringing again, so you throw it across the room. it hits your headboard, and then bounces onto your bed, with a soft thump.

and keeps ringing. you're not strong enough to break it.

you're not a superhero. you're not. you can't fly, you can't shoot beams out of your hands, you don't have dark purple body-armor hidden in your closet.

you start wondering if you're hallucinating; if you're dreaming. your nails digging into your arms hurt enough that you don't think so, and your phone. keeps. ringing, the noise only broken by rapid-fire text chimes in the bare seconds when someone isn't trying to call you.

you can't get up the energy to turn it off, you tuck your knees tighter to your chest in your chair. you think maybe you're having a panic attack, the kind you haven't had since you were in high school.

you jump out of your skin when you hear a knock -- not at your bedroom door, or from the entrance to the apartment, but at your window.

you don't want to look. you don't look. you keep your head down, eyes wide, and try to breathe.

there's another knock. despite yourself, you turn. and see her. again. masked, this time, the same hero who's career you followed with just as much excitement as the rest of the city she claimed as her own.

this time you know it's the same face you see in the mirror when you brush your teeth under that mask. it makes your stomach turn, uneasy and anxious and terrified.

you shake your head. like that'll fix everything, and you see her shoulders move in a sigh.

and then, because you're stupid, because it's a 5th floor apartment and you don't lock your fucking windows, she slides the window open from the outside and floats in, and then closes the window -- and blinds -- behind her like it matters.

and then she takes off her mask, and again, you're staring at your own face, flipped from how it is in the mirror.

"so." she says, tone low and serious, the way it wasn't on the news. "we need to talk."

#my writing #wheeeeeeeee superheroes go brrrrr

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lullabyes22-blog · 9 hours ago

Text

Snippet - He's Back - Forward but Never Forget/XOXO

A confrontation long overdue.

(Happy Valentine's Day, folks :'D)

Forward but Never Forget/XOXO

tw: angst

"I trust," Silco says, breaking the quiet, "you didn't take that personally."

"What, you bailing midway?"

"Hm."

She doesn't frown. But her dipped eyelids shield a stormfront. "...Look. This arrangement? If it's not working out—"

"You know that's not the case."

"No?"

"I only needed..." To put my pieces in back together. "...Space."

"Yeah?" A flash a familiar vigilance. "Sure it's not because of her?"

"Her?"

Does she mean Nandi?

Her sister's specter has ceased to interfere in the peripheries of their intimacy.

Or—gods, has she learnt about his dalliance with Medarda, the long-game laced together in exquisite deception?

Silco doubts it—he covers his tracks—but sometimes he underestimates the razor edge of Sevika's perceptiveness.

Too late to dissemble if that's the case. But before he braces for impact—before the blowback of her judgement leaves him a smoking crater—he prays for a chance to plead his case. To explain that Medarda balances on the precarious axis between personal proclivity and political leverage. To beg Sevika—

(Beg? That's unseemly for both.)

—convince her, that his attraction is a complicated calculus. His goals are on track, even if the rest's tangled in desire's gilded strings. He'll not deny the thrall Medarda exerts; the fascination of her nimble wit; a rare gift in reading people, even the darkest facets of his own nature.

But it's survival—not need—that shares their bed. It's common ground—not devotion—that drives their bargain. It's the irrevocable necessity of circumstance—not goddamn choice—that turns him to the enemy as he once turned to drugs, drink, dissipation.

There is no tether there. Only game after bloody game, Sevika, and if you give the word, I'll burn the board to the ground—

"Sevika," he begins. "I—"

As always, she preempts him. "Jinx."

Silco struggles to conceal his surprise. "...Jinx.."

"You miss her. Miss her so much you'd rather be here, with me, than alone in your penthouse."

"That's not true." It is, and isn't. "I'm not here for—"

"Don't deny it. There's a piece missing with her gone. And that piece won't be filled by any of us here."

"If by piece—," he dares a cautious sidestep "—you mean peace of mind—"

"You barely talk about her," Sevika cuts in. "Don't like to hear her mentioned. When I bring her up, you either ignore it, or change the subject. As if she's locked up somewhere too fucking precious to share with the rest of us. It'd be fine if you were at least drinking like a fish and smoking like a fiend and throwing yourself headfirst into anything involving disembowelment. Instead, you've been..." she gropes for a second. "Distant."

"Distant."

She gives him a meaningful look. "Like you're still in the Deadlands. Still… somewhere I can't follow."

Inwardly, Silco marvels. Outwardly, he says nothing.

It's true; he's kept himself to himself. Not because he's subsumed everything into his work—he has—but because he's lately sensed himself at a crossroads.

Not of Zaun but his own convictions.

Self-concept's not been in the cards for a while. It left when Jinx crashed into his life. Without her, he's not lost the measure of the game, but the measure of himself.

A father.

Except he's still Jinx's father. It defines him like a chalk outline around a corpse; a name carved on a gravestone. He'll always belong to her. No matter where their paths uncross into separate tangents, or where their roads lead together.

But Silco, himself? Beyond Zaun?

He's yet to find the answer, though tonight's left him on surer footing.

From the streets, fireworks spiral, then fade. In the spreading silence, Sevika says, "You can be not-okay, you know. Nobody'd fault you."

Her gentleness unsettles. His deflection is reflexive. "No, they'd simply kill me."

"They'd have to go through me," she says matter-of-factly, "And nobody gets through me."

They trade a brief smile. Tight as tethers go.

Sevika says, "I figured… that was why you let them stay over."

"Who?"

"Pearl’s girls." She sips slowly. Her chest—still faintly sweat-sheened—rises and falls in measured exhalations. "The entire time they were over, you were so... unlike you. Or maybe you: times ten. Like you'd be with Jinx, only... safer." Her eyes meet his. "You must miss it. Taking care of a kid who looks up to you like you're Janna's godsdamn gift."

"Pearl's kin look to the future. Not to me."

"You care about them." A beat, "Same way you must've cared about Pearl."

Silco steels himself against his habitual response: Admit nothing, deny everything, destroy everyone.

Instead, he takes a long swig of tea, buying time before the final draft.

"Yes," he says.

"Yes, what? Which part?"

"All of it." A deeper swallow; tongue weighing each word. "I did care for Pearl. She was fine company. Generous with herself, and patient with my inadequacies."

Sevika scoffs. "Those being?"

"We both know better than to enumerate." A shadow of a smile slinks across his lips, then fades. "It was good, what we had in the Ditch. Not a matter of what my body needed. More... what my self required. With Jinx gone, there was so little to steer me except survival. Except survival is a stalling tactic. It allows you to continue existing. But life, really living, requires meaning. And meaning demands engagement beyond oneself. Pearl gave me a second chance at that."

Silence from across the table. He waits her out: a stubborn force brooding in place. Finally Sevika shakes her head.

"I should've been there," she murmurs. "Should've gone with you."

"How could you have known I'd vanish?"

He thinks of all the things he could tell her of that time. His psyche-marred misery in wake of Jinx’s departure. His rage and emptiness. How he'd been left with the topsoil of his soul stripped bare. All that was left was a doppelgänger sustained on the fumes of memory.

A soulless medium compelled to descend to the darkest core to mine his purpose from stone.

Quietly, he says, "You pledged me your loyalty. Loyalty isn't grounds to follow a leader beyond death's door."

"Is that where you went? Six feet under?"

"A thousand fathoms deep." Draining the mug, he sets it aside. "That's where Pearl found me. Her, and her girls. And from there... they guided me back. In their ordinariness, they were extraordinary. They had such little in the world. Yet they fought for everything in it. Tooth and nail;, blood and bone. Life took nothing from them without paying a price."

Sevika regards her own mug. "So they helped you figure out how to live again."

A cogent summary. He nods.

"Were you and Pearl...?"

"In love? I'd not take it that far." Silco exhales. Pearl's presence is between his ribs—a vivid ache—but not a mortal blow. Her quintessence was pure steel; it'd steeled and purified him in turn. Even in his blackest mourning, he'll carry that unyielding framework into the future. "We suited each other. A simpatico of spirit and flesh. In another life—perhaps that would've sufficed. In this one..." He traces a fingertip down his left cheekbone: the rough corrugation of scar tissue like tear-tracks. "I'm grateful our paths crossed. But I'll always regret the way they did."

"Because she didn't make it."

"Because in seeking her out, I abandoned you."

Sevika doesn't flinch. But her expression, in tiny increments, softens. For the first time since his return, he sees forgiveness. Forgiveness, and a strange species of sorrow: as if she's bracing herself against worse to come.

She's already lost him in more ways than one; to war, to prison, to something else entirely.

To Zaun itself: the loss that keeps on giving.

"Do you ever wonder..." she falters, as if casual discourse might veer the night dangerously off-course. "...if it would've been better if we'd chosen a different path? Stayed apart, in Nandi's wake?"

"If our lives hadn't met at Zaun's center?"

"If the ...grief... hadn't changed us. If we never became this."

"This?"

"Us." She gestures: copper fingers singing on oiled servos. Their everlasting entanglement; their perpetual estrangement. "What if we'd kept it strictly business. No strings attached."

"Strings can be severance. Or safety ropes."

"What's the difference if both'll strangle you?"

"Have they?"

"Don't pretend." Sevika sets down her emptied mug. The knuckles of her good hand are pale on the handle. "If we'd kept it straight business, maybe we would've moved on. You with Pearl. Me with whoever this city threw my way. Instead it's always been this weird limbo. The life we're living, and life we could've been living. Except—it's not living at all. More like the coffin's nailed shut six ways from Sunday. But the grave's still yawning open. Open to chance. But ...never closure."

Hope's not a commodity Silco trades in. But right now it's rushing in like a high tide over sandbags.

"Then—" he swallows, "—is it closure you're after? Or an escape clause?"

Sevika shakes her head. Her sigh is edgy.

"Escape," she says, "isn't freedom. Freedom's a choice."

Silco nods, but says nothing. The silence, seconds ticking by, is an unspoken invitation:

Step through, and show me what you'd choose.

"It's why we work," Sevika goes on. "We didn't choose each other. We chose Zaun. That was the big picture, and we were both in it, and the rest didn't matter. For the longest time, that was all I needed. It was enough. But then... then you were gone. Zaun fell apart, and everything else fell to me, and fell fast. And as it fell, I started thinking: what if things had been different? What if we hadn't been so afraid? Of failure; of fallout? Of... each other? What if I'd stopped staring at the big picture, and taken the risk on getting caught in close-up?"

She meets his stare dead-on. Silco forces himself to weather the spotlight of her scrutiny. He feels, inordinately, like he's facing a firing squad, and his shirt's half-buttoned.

"The days dragged on, and there was no news of you. But even so—even though we'd been finished longtime—I kept wondering. Kept wishing. Just like the night we'd lost on the Bridge. Me, searching and not finding. Me, left waiting and not knowing where to stand." The deep-seated hurt in her eyes—a flicker, then a flame—makes Silco want to gut himself. "There were other offers. Same as last time. Other options. I could've taken 'em and escaped that fucking loop. But instead—fuck. I kept on waiting. I waited, and I waited, and I got sick of the waiting. And it hit me: I wasn't waiting at all. I was stuck. Because I couldn't bear to start again, after losing so damn much. Because moving on meant stepping into the dark, and having nothing underfoot if I fell."

Silco starts to say something. He doesn't.

This is about honesty—not eloquence.

"You know what makes Zaun stand apart?" Sevika says. "We're all about change. About action, not inertia. Me? I wasn't acting. I was going through the motions. Surviving. And in my survival, staying in stasis. Meanwhile the gangs kept warring. The chem-barons kept demanding. The politics kept getting bloodier. My world was coming apart at the seams, and there I was, clinging to scraps like my sanity was worth less than a potshot to the skull." A hard smile surfaces: tough as nails, and molten bright. "It'd be easy to blame you. Say it all led back to you abandoning us. Except we both know the score. You taught it to me, over and over. Cost and reward. Win or lose. Surrender—or fight like hell to keep going."

"You did," Silco says. "This city owes itself to your fortitude. Not mine."

"I tried," Sevika counters, blunt. "I held the center, until I couldn't. But that's the point. Holding the center isn't going anywhere. It's stalling in place." The smile fades, but the fire lingers. "I don't know what threw us together. Chemistry, or karma, or fate playing games. But I do know this. I'm done holding the center. I'm ready to move on. But I can't—won't—unless I know you're moving too. Unless I know you coming back is a choice. Not a dead man marking time."

The ultimatum is brutal. But he reads between the lines. She'd kept it together, and kept herself intact. Survived, not as his second-in-command or factional proxy but as a person.

Just Sevika, fighting for life in a universe of atoms. Just as he had done in the Deadlands.

Tonight, closure's not un the cards. But choice is.

And upon that choice, the groundwork for the next stage of revolution.

"Sevika," Silco begins. "I never considered—"

"I'll bet."

"I meant—I never understood, either. That holding the center meant staying in place."

"I find that hard to believe."

"Why?"

"Because you're always ten steps ahead of everybody." Her eyes flash a semaphore of secret admiration. "Every option weighed; every factor calculated. No errors. No exceptions."

Her faith nearly fells him. He's never been more unworthy of it. Never more terrified of knowing he's unworthy.

"I'm not," he says, "as clever as you think I am."

Her snort snags between his third and fourth rib. "Bullshit."

"It's true. I'm—"

Gods, what does he tell her?

That for all his sturm and drang—laying waste to a city and resurrecting it into splendor—he's a fucking coward at heart? Too gutless to let himself bleed; too feckless to let himself hurt. That for ten years, he's held onto himself by the skin of his teeth, and kept a city in his crosshairs—only to be undone by a little girl's tears? Unmade by fatherhood and the promise a legacy more lasting than the wreckage in his wake?

That he's still unmaking himself, putting the pieces in patterns yet unseen?

And still, there's no promise the pattern will cohere into a whole. Into a man who is halfway worthy of a woman willing to be his spine, his shield, his tether. A woman who has been through her own hell, and yet embodies every quality forged from that hellfire: tenacity, toughness, truth. A woman who manages ninety percent of her life effortlessly and the other ten percent ruthlessly; who fights harder for Zaun than anyone but him; who demands respect without begging for approval; whose tolerance for bullshit ends at the doorstep.

Who grants him access to her body, but whose boundaries are uncompromising. Who compromises daily, for his city's sake, and his own, and still sticks around when she has no cause to care.

Silco starts to speak. Stops. His throat's seized up. Ten fingerprints; Vander's phantom chokehold.

And beyond that chokehold: choice.

Silence crawls between them: tense, terrible, tetherless.

At last, Sevika gusts a sigh.

"Forget it." Her chair scrapes across the tiles. "I shouldn't have brought it up." She rises with military precision: all the momentum, with none of the grace. "Let's call it a night. I need some shut-eye, and you need to be at HQ. I'll radio the crew—"

The mind-body connection reinstates with a wallop.

Before she can withdraw, he's cut off her egress. For some reason he cannot fathom, he finds himself kneeling, though what he has a right to profess at her feet is beyond him.

Daddy, he thinks, proposed to Mother like this.

The recollection's absurdly random, and strangely relevant.

Stunned, Sevika backs into the chair, her elbow banging off the wood. "...What're you—?"

"I choose."

The dark lashes flutter. The tough exterior conceals a flashpoint of panic:

He's lost it.

He's gone mad.

Gone for good, oh gods—

"I choose," he repeats, compelling her stare with his. "I'd choose all the choices that brought us here. Because that's what it was: choice. Not karma, or fate, or sheer dumb luck. I'd still choose to crawl out of that river, and stick a knife in Vander's back. I'd still choose to ally with you, because there was nobody else worth allying with. I'd still choose Jinx, and all the wins and losses that followed. I'd choose freedom; I'd choose Zaun. I'd choose to march the streets with my army—every misfit soldier, every broken soul. And you by my side, leading the charge. As you've led everytime I couldn't. As you've led me through the hardest parts of our journey—whenever I failed to light my own way."

The fear shifts to something else: half-formed, fiercer in its vulnerability.

"You—you don't mean that," she stammers. "You never would have chosen this. Not me, not us—"

Silco takes her good hand in both of his.

Sevika tenses, but doesn't tug away. Plainly her first impulse; to save them both from something irreversible. He recognizes that fear; it's his own.

In another life, he'd never give credence to its silhouette. He'd take her hand, twine her fingers through his, hold on tight—all without a single red lie. He'd have cupped her head, smoothed her hair, then dragging her close, so their foreheads met in a familiar circle of warmth.

That'd been the go-to, once. When touch was easy, and trust a matter of course.

Replicating the gesture now seems a forgery. Worse, a travesty of what once was.

Except what once was is no more. Neither are they. Whoever he is—he must learn it all from scratch.

Starting now.

He stays his knees; he keeps her hand in his.

"I don't care," he says. "I don't care if the odds don't stack up. Or what probability matrix I'm fucking over. All I know is: I choose. Us—whatever us means. Whatever it doesn't. Whether it's you jettisoning everything we've built, or me burning it to ground zero—I'd still choose where it's led us. I'd choose whatever path lies ahead. Even if it takes us out of Zaun's orbit altogether—or down to the last circle of hell. No matter where we fall on that spectrum: I choose, Sevika." He breathes, steadies. "I choose whatever's left."

The silence spins like a roulette wheel: a freefall between extremes.

Her hand's a tether. He holds it tight between his fists, until the subdermal tremor stills.

"Silco..."

"Yes?"

Her eyes are burningly dark. "I'm what's left."

"You are." He skims a thumb over her lifeline, where blue veins branch across her wrist. Life coursing beneath: vital, raw, real. "And you're what I choose. Fuck the rest."

Her breath jitters on a rare laugh. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Funny."

"How so?"

"'Cause that's exactly how I feel."

He lifts her palm to his lips. Feels the pulse quickening at the base, overflowing with all he's lacked; with all he needs.

Warmth, want, wholeness.

Unexpectedly, her fingers flex; she twines them through his. The cybernetic hand reaches out to seize his jaw. Gently, then not. She drags him in even as he flows into her embrace. The kiss is like whiskey left mellowing over the hearth-flames: fiery, smooth, familiar. Cardamom lingers in the gaps; the rest's doused in the residue of adrenaline.

Then desire simmers back into the brew: a low smolder, but with the capacity to roar should they pour a stiff shot into the equation. Her arms span his shoulders; his teeth catch her lower-lip. The kiss drags them down deep.

Love's like revolution. An entire paradigm rewritten from the ground up.

In the aftermath, there's always blood.

When they break apart, it's only to breathe. Their skins are pinked with inner-heat; pupils dilated. Sevika's grip is unyielding; her thighs have gone from a rigid V to a needy cinch. His body, fitted between, has traded languor for livewire greed. Memories of earlier burn viscerally bright. Himself inside her, a cock thrust deep; a body on fire against another starved of heat.

He lays a kiss, openmouthed, at her breastbone. Her throat vibrates against his ear: purr, chuckle, moan.

"You should get going," she breathes, "before this gets ugly."

He laps the words from her throat. "That's the idea."

"Tomorrow's schedule... is a shitshow."

"All the better to end on a high note."

"Silco..."

It's a quaver of syllables. Halfway to futility—all the way to surrender.

By nature, Silco presses his advantage: cool palms coasting beneath the hem of her nightshirt, blunt fingernails ghosting goosefleshed flanks. Her breasts fill his palms like decadent teardrops: nipples pebbling into silky little hellos as he rolls each with delicate intent, then roughly pinches. Her startled groan fills his mouth.

Gods above and below—the way she arches; the way she rocks. Her own kisses have gone from scalding to incandescent. He knows they're no longer going to make it to her bed—at least, not immediately. He'll have her here, first: in the kitchen, on his knees. With his tongue, then his fingers, then his cock in her cunt.

Nothing romantic to it, but what he wants is far more real.

"Sweet Janna," Sevika gasps, as he rucks up her nightshirt and fastens on her bare tit like candy, "do you ever ease up?"

Silco hums the negation between her breasts. "...You?"

"Gods, no—" She cups his skull, drags him closer, "but tomorrow—"

"Fuck tomorrow." The crudeness earns him a grin. Her fingers tighten on his crown; her knee hikes higher around his torso. "Tonight's Jubilee. Not your father's bloody funeral. Save the damp squib for when it counts."

Her spiky smirk was spreading. But somewhere, he's hit the wrong note. The spark douses into stillness. Her arms loosen; the Valkyrie wilts.

In her absence, there's only the shape of a wary woman: heavy-boned and hard-lined; scars all across the skin.

Breaking their embrace, she tugs her top down. Self-conscious; unlike herself.

"C'mon," she mutters. "Don't play roulette with the cards you're dealt."

"I thought that was our calling." Bemused, he searches her face. "Unless there someone else you're hedging your bets on?"

"No." An old exhaustion creeps into her eyes. One that prefigures Zaun in its entirety. "Just... no."

"No?"

"I need to be counting sheep tonight. Not stars."

Rising, she gathers the empty mugs, ferrying them to the sink. The shift is sudden and inexplicable. His XO is carved from bedrock, with all its obdurate depths. Moodiness is a character flaw she rarely indulges.

A premonition prickles along Silco's nape. The monster stirring awake. He's never handled disappointment well. Rejection, worse. It makes his knucklebones lock around a blade's hidden heft; ready to dish out whatever collateral damage is necessary until his goal is within reach.

Mine, the monster hisses. Mine.

Ours, he counters, and wills himself to stillness.

"What's wrong?" he says, as mildly as possible. "A minute ago, you were ready."

"I was." She rinses the mugs. Her movements aren't tense, only sharply efficient. "But... tonight's not ideal."

"Bad head?"

Her sidelong smile is wan, but warms her eyes. "Nobody'd level that critique against you, sweetheart."

The Sweetheart is a token; Silco pockets it as compensation. They don't do endearments; haven't in years. Perhaps, tonight, it's one of many rules they're unwriting.

Or perhaps Sevika's setting new parameters for intimacy altogether.

Not his strong suit: abiding by limits. But, then, neither is sharing.

Yet here he stands. Near enough for her heat to soak into him; not so close as to invade her space. He's in no position to inveigle, especially after laying his cards at her feet.

The dice is hers to throw.

"If we're going too fast," he says, "say so. I'll match whatever pace you set."

Her head pivots. She looks—truly looks—as if he's an anomaly she's never encountered. Something enthrallingly new, and far too dangerous.

"You're not angry," she murmurs.

"No."

"Why not?"

His shrug isn't effortless, but it's honest. "We've had a string of long days. We deserve to take the edge off, however we like. If that means shut-eye instead of screwing, so be it. But," and here the devil seeps to the surface, "I'd be lying if I said a quickie wouldn't put a spring in my step tomorrow."

She doesn't laugh, but it's a close call. "I think I'll manage without the extra bounce."

"Are you sure?"

"You know me. Always on the ball."

"You're not. Though you do a damn good job hiding it." He reaches out, thumbing a tangle behind her ear. "You're wired. You're always wired. But this is the first time it shows."

She tenses. But the touch, lingering, softens something within. Her eyes drift half-shut. "...It's nothing."

"No?"

"Just... there's too much riding on the line."

"We're the line, remember?" The caress drifts lower, cupping her nape. She arches into his palm: a dragon seeking shelter. Yet within their closeness is sense of something sinister. A splinter of truth, caught in between. "Unless, in honor of Jubilee, you've chosen abstinence for the month."

"Hardly." There's a trace of a smile; a shadow of bitterness. "That was Nandi's cup of hemlock."

"Hyssop."

"Huh?"

"Hemlock's the killer. Hyssop's the healer." Off her stare, he tips a shoulder. "Your sister taught me the finer points of herblore. During our courtship, I was always bruised, bloody, and bone-deep in doom. She couldn't steer me tidy, so she choose to teach me how to triage a broken arm."

Sevika's scrubbing slows. "That sounds like Nandi."

"A born dogooder."

She laughs—a frayed but genuine sound—just as he suspects her mouth may be running short on indulgence.

"Nah. She had a wicked streak. Only difference is that hers came with a heart of gold. Whereas mine..." She performs a neat sidestep to hang the mugs off their hooks. "Got mine from my old man. Not a lick of shine in sight."

"I disagree."

"Your eyesight's one flaw worth enumerating."

"If I had to list yours, self-deprecation wouldn't feature among them." He catches her wrist, but lightly. "What's wrong? Because something is."

"Something." Her shrug's an imitation of his, but a poor one. "I guess... I'm just being superstitious. Thinking: if I let myself go now, I'll slip up at the next critical juncture. Or get so fucking pissed when you're back to being Zaun's reigning bastard, I won't be able to keep a lid on it? Because—" She swallows. "That's the deal between us. There's always a catch. Cost; reward."

He lets her wrist go. "You think I'm playing games."

"Everything's a goddamn game with you. Same way everything's a game with Janna her-own-damnself. And those games always end up at cross-purposes—and into clusterfucks."

Her silence doesn't quite sit right; Silco feels its surface ripple like a sine wave. There's something vulnerable inside. Something, conversely, walled-off. It recalls the gloss in her eyes when they'd been going at it before. A stormfront brewing north.

Now it occurs to Silco the storm may not entirely be his doing.

"What is this?" He's prowling a circle around her now. "And if you say 'nothing'—"

She nixes the warning with a sharp headshake. "It's not."

"What, then?"

Outside the flat, fireworks: scalding showers of garnet red and verdant green. The eerie fractals dance through the blinds.

On the last ebb of colors, Sevika swallows.

"I can't—" Her voice snags; her lips pull taut. "—trust a single thing about tonight."

"Why not?"

"Because you're you, and I'm me. Between us, there's always a flipside. Some wrench in the spokes. Some debt overdue. That's how this game works. That's how it's always worked." Her chin lifts, defiant, but the eyes hold a haunted sheen. "You drive a hard bargain, Silco. But tonight? This deal feels too good to be true. And whatever I have left... I'm not ready to lose. Not if—if you mean what you say. And not if this is the only shot I get at—at—fuck."

Abruptly, she punches the wall. The lapis tile cracks like ice beneath her cybernetic fist.

Dazed, Sevika stares at the damage, the copper knuckles flexing.

A heartbeat later, she's in tears.

Silco's at her side before he registers it. The monster—always slithering, always shapeshifting—is lured to the stress chemicals wafting in the air. The rest of him—the vestigial organ pumping the barest heat to every extremity—pulls rank over roiling appetite.

This isn't a foe to fight. Nor prey to penetrate.

This is Sevika baring a bellyful of hurt.

"Sevika." He catches her shoulders. "What's gotten into you?"

"Nothing." Furiously, she backhands the tears. "Look, forget it. Just—forget it. It's been a long fucking day. I'm tired. Tomorrow, everything will be fine. You'll be the terror of the deep, and I'll be the stone-cold bitch. Same old, same old. We'll move on; move forward. Like we always do."

"We will." His grip tightens, anchoring her in place. "But not tonight. Tonight, I want the truth."

"Nothing worth sharing."

"Let me be the judge of that."

Abruptly, she wrenches loose.

"Since when do we swap sob stories?" she erupts. "Since when does the Eye of Zaun care what's going on between my ears, and not what deal's brewing in the the backrooms? Since when do you care about anything beyond the big picture, and not what's right in front of you? And why now, Silco? Why tonight, of all nights? When I'm at the end of my fucking rope, and it's just a matter of time before I slip up and strangle myself?"

"Because," Silco snaps, "I do care."

"You don't." She's breathing hard, as if she's sprinted miles to get here. "You're not Sil. You haven't been Sil in over ten fucking years. I was fine with that. Fuck, I was better than fine. I was grateful. 'Cause Sil was mine, and he'd stay mine, even if the rest fell, and our bones rotted. None of this—the dirty deals, the politics, the backstabbing—would touch him. He'd always be that dreamer with a big speech, and the best intentions, even if the worst came knocking. But you—" Her mouth twists. "—you're the fucking monster, remember? The goddamn anti-Sil. You're not supposed to care. You're not supposed to feel a thing. Except lately... you look at me like Sil used to. Like he's still in there, under fifty feet of icewater, and I can't take it. I can't stand you pretending to be him. You can't be. Because him, I knew. Him, I've I believed in. Him, I fought for, and for him, I'd gladly die. You—you're a changeling who stole his skin, and I hate you for it. I hate myself more for wanting you. Because it's too risky to want you. Not if it's all or nothing, and nothing's my most likely bet."

She's barely breathing by the end. The fury's spent itself. Her body's deadweight.

Silco's the one lost at sea.

"Is that what you think?" he says, low. "I'm a pretender in my own skin?"

"I think the last ten years have been a fucking nightmare. I think, whatever you are—whatever you've turned into—that you've still got a long way to go before you're a man I can trust."

"But you want to trust me." He's inching closer. "Trust us."

"I can't!" She jerks back. "I can't go back there. I can't let myself hope."

"Why not?"

"Because—" The bravado cracks. "Because what's left isn't worth losing. You're never gonna change, and neither will the game, and we're both too fucked up to make this work."

"You're wrong."

Inexorably, he advances; she retreats, until he's caged her against the counter. The monster's wide awake, instincts primed to strike. It's Silco's way; coercion as conversational art; proximity as pressure valve.

But here's neither advantage to be extracted, nor damage to impart.

Only his refusal to let her suffer alone.

"I won't," he repeats, softer, "And I'm going to prove it."

"How? By threatening your way into my pants?"

"By owning the truth. Whatever that truth is." He doesn't touch her. Only breathes the salt-scented air between them: stress, sex, tears. The sensory olio solidifies the stakes. "I'm not Sil, and I'll never be again. But he's what I became, Sevika, and he's in me. All the pieces, and none of the pretty. But whatever's left, you can have it all. So long as you'll give me the same."

She shivers. Doesn't move a muscle. Doesn't lash out.

But nor does she run.

"You're asking a lot," she says, raggedly. "What if it's not worth it?"

"Let me be the judge." He holds her eyes. "Tell me what's eating you alive. Because whatever it is—whatever's got you so scared—it won't be the end of us, Sevika. I swear."

Sevika resists; a muscle quivers in her jaw. But the tears are relentless. Each drop's a surrender, unmaking hard-won stoicism by stages.

Finally, she sags. Her voice is uncharacteristically small.

"It's my old man. He's back."

#arcane #arcane league of legends #forward but never forget/xoxo #arcane silco #silco #forward (never forget)/xoxo #arcane jinx #jinx #arcane sevika #sevika #silco x sevika #sevilco

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bratbarzal · 1 day ago

Note

OR, and feel free to skip, obviously!!!

“c’mon, like i need an excuse to spend time with you.” with Poppy and Nico pre-On Your Side?

✩‧₊˚ bratbarzal's valentines event!˚₊‧✩

4. “c’mon, like i need an excuse to spend time with you.” WITH PRE OYS NICO AND POPPY THE DREAM REQUEST!!!! ILYSM FOR THIS

"You don't look like you're dying," Poppy hears the hum of a low voice muse, all too lost in her work until she looks up from her computer to see those familiar dark eyes gleaming back at her from across her desk.

She smiles up at Nico, tight lipped and guilty at the sight of the slight pants of breath he is taking - obviously having run over from wherever else in the Rock he might have been.

Sending an SOS text with thirteen exclamation marks might have been a little excessive, but it had felt necessary at the time - and hey, he might have even broken some sort of world record, she only sent it a few minutes ago.

"Hi," she says, tone sweet and smile even sweeter, now. "Thanks for coming."

"You can't abuse SOS texts, Poppy," he huffs, lowering himself onto the edge of her desk, "If you did that in the military, you'd be dishonourably discharged."

"Good thing we're not in the military, then."

"Speak for yourself," he grumbles.

"You're hardly G.I. Joe, Nico." Poppy scoffs, "We both know you really did your service to get pictures for your dating apps."

"You're the one who told me to use them," he leans over to flick at her shoulder playfully, "What do you want?"

She wants to immediately rid herself of the thoughts of him in those photos - looking all official and handsome, but unfortunately it isn't that easy. "Uhh," she drags out while she tries to get her momentum back, shifting awkwardly in her spinny chair in the middle of her cubby and telling herself that friends don't think of friends in uniform like that. "I need a favour."

"And you had to give me a heart attack to ask for it?"

"I thought you were the embodiment of physical health?" she chimes back, shaking her head to get it back in the game, "Doesn't matter, you're not distracting me again. You know Michael, the guy who's office that is," Poppy points to the office in the corner - one of the nicest on the floor, with a window in the corner and it's own private bathroom. "He handed in his resignation this morning, and Elaine is dividing his projects out to all us lowly cubby losers."

"You're not a cubby loser-,"

"I am, and I'm okay with it, because I have a way out."

"Let me guess, I'm your way out?"

"Let's not get an ego about it," she scoffs, "But yes. One of his projects is Hockey In New Jersey, you know with all the cute kids? And I want it. And if I can go to her and tell her I convinced the team captain to get involved, then I'm a shoe in for it. Which means I'm a shoe in for that prime piece of real estate in the corner over there."

"I see," he hums, lips twisting as he watches the passion for her job consume her - sees the determination in her eyes, and the unwavering confidence that the 13 foot by 13 foot space on the other side of the floor will be hers.

"So the favour is that you agree to come with me to one of the rinks next Thursday, and we do a bunch of cool sessions and get some really great photos for the website," she gestures with her hands as if trying to guide him through the concept, and the amusement never shifts from his gaze, "And I know that it's technically your day off, and the last thing you probably want is to be in work mode, especially around a bunch of kids, but-,"

"Poppy," Nico chuckles, cutting her off with a quick press of his hand to her forearm, the touch startling her into immediate silence, staring at him with her mouth agape, "It's fine, I'll do it."

"Really?" She asks, to which he just nods in return, a soft smile like it's really no skin off his back to agree. "I was about to offer to bribe Jess to stay away from you for all other media activity for the next month."

"C'mon," he snorts, "Like I need an excuse to spend time with you. This can be my Valentines present for this year." He shrugs, like the concept of the two of them exchanging gifts for Valentines Day of all holidays is no big deal. Like that's something that just friends do.

Poppy hadn't even realised that next Thursday is Valentines Day, a flush suddenly rising up her neck as she thinks about the implications - but he hadn't seemed too disturbed by the idea, so probably best not to bring it up.

"We get each other presents for Valentines, now?" She leans onto her elbows on her desk, looking up at him as he gives one of those slow smiles back, cheeks dimpling and lips stretching softly.

"I've been getting you Valentines presents for the last two years, Mohn," he twists a little from his position atop the edge of her desk - the movement causing the pens in her pot to rattle, and Poppy can see one of her co-workers looking over from the corner of her eye. She can't wait to get this project out of the way - to solidify herself on the team enough that she's entrusted with her own office, because meet-ups like this with Nico are hard when there's little to no privacy.

"I think I'd know if we were exchanging gifts, Nico." she scoffs.

"I didn't say exchanging," he mimics her fondly, "I said I've been getting them for you."

She frowns, trying to think back to the previous couple of years, and anything Nico might have given her around this time.

She usually spends Valentines with her girls - she hasn't really had a serious boyfriend in a while, especially not one that stays around for the holidays - and the only thing she can think of is the heart-shaped heating pad Nia had given her last year.

Nico picks a pen from Poppy's pot and taps it against the side of her mug, the one that says I Heart NJ that she keeps in the office and drinks out of every day. The mug that Nico had brought her a drink of tea in last year when she was a little under the weather, and she had been using ever since.

"Shut up, this was a Valentines gift?" she gasps, lowering her voice so she doesn't garner the attention of Mr Nosey-Pants across the room.

"It has a heart on it, doesn't it?"

Poppy frowns then, staring down at the mug. She didn't even know it was technically from him - just thought it was something he had brought over and she had subsequently claimed as her own.

And now she feels bad - thinking he's been sneaking her gifts this whole time and she's never even spared a thought to getting him anything back.

"We're gonna have to take it in turns now," she huffs, not liking that he has been making an effort to do something for her and she hasn't been doing the same, "Next year, I'm gonna give you the biggest and best Valentines present you've ever gotten in your life, to make up for the years I missed."

"I look forward to it, Mohn." he laughs, lowly, his cheeks dimpling and dark eyes gleaming back at her, nudging at her ankle to shift her attention back from where it had fallen to his smile before he says, "What was it you were saying about no media activity, again?"

#*WHISPERS* NEXT VALENTINES SHE'S PREGNANT WITH HIS CHILD HAHAHHAHAHAHAHA #nico hischier #nico hischier blurb #nico hischier x oc #💌.valentinesevent #*writing #oys!asks #technically #MY BABIES I MISSED THEM THANK YOU FOR THIS #also the I heart NJ mug is in OYS lmao what a callback she's. GENIUS!!!#.ve

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sunni-writes · 2 days ago

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𝐑𝐮𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐝

Sylus! x Fem Reader! Valentines Day With Sylus CW: PWP, Domestic/Softie Sylus, Cunnilingus, Overstimulation, Begging, Mention of MC Passing out, Breeding, Subby MC, Use of the word 'Kitten'

"Someone's excited." Sylus jokes as you practically drag him out of his home and push him into his car.

"I just want to make sure we get there on time!" you say, making your way into car and buckling yourself in.

It was Valentines Day, a day to celebrate a special connection to a special someone. So, who better to celebrate with than Sylus? Usually, he'd be the one to do all the planning and set up for your dates or you would both plan something together, but this year, you wanted to surprise him for a change. You had the entire day planned out. First a fancy new Jazz restaurant that just opened up in Linkon with a beautiful Skyview. Then the two of you would visit the fun laser tag place, where you would give him a proper butt-kicking. And then a walk through the park to play with the kitties that Sylus loved so much, and to end the day when you go back to his place...

Your face feels warm as you remember the attire you bought and stored away in your suitcase for your weekend rendezvous in the N109 Zone. A very special lingerie that you were certain he would like.

You could only hope Luke and Kieran would be done with the set up by the time you returned. It was all going to be perfect! At least you though so...before getting to the restaurant.

"Sorry madam but all our tables are full." the host tells you, with an apologetic look

"But...that can't be, I booked a table in advance." You say, confused as you press a button on you watch to pull up the holographic screen of your emails. You checked, and sure enough you had booked a table at the restaurant for this time.

"It appears that there may have been some sort of glitch with our website. The table you requested had already been booked by a different group. However, if you'd like we can reschedule for that table in let's say...a week from today?" He says as he scrolls to the next most recent availability.

You can't help but pout in disappointment, before you feel a gentle touch of a hand on your shoulder. "That'll be fine." you hear Sylus say, making you turn to him in confusion. "Why don't we go somewhere else instead? I know the perfect place, Sweetie." he suggests as a takes your hand in his own.

You feel a tad bit disappointed; you had worked so hard to find the perfect place, this restaurant had a lot of his favorite foods and the kind of music that you were sure he'd be humming all day after hearing it. The atmosphere was perfect.

But then he gives you a reassuring smile, and gently squeezes your hand, and you feel yourself relax a little.

He takes you to a quaint little 'hole in the wall' restaurant instead. There's only a handful of people inside, but the food is good and the little old lady who owns the restaurant tells you that you and your 'husband' make a beautiful couple.

"You're a lucky lady, miss. Your husband is quite handsome."

Sylus seems to smile at that, while your own face flushes at the thought of you two being married. Despite that, neither of you correct her.

"Thank you. However, I'm the lucky one..." he comments, his gaze never leaving your face as he places a chaste kiss on your knuckles.

The lady smiles endearingly. "Oh, to be young and in love again." she sighs, seemingly recalling her own past love as she makes her way to the kitchen.

When she comes back, she's carrying two large plates of food, "wait- miss? I think we got the wrong order..." you say, staring at the buffet stacked before you.

The lady waves off your words, "It's on the house." she starts to say as she glances between the two of you. "Afterall, you'll need to widen those hips a bit if you ever plan on having children."

You choke.

"Ha ha, I think it's a little too soon for that." you reply back to the nice lady. You can hear Sylus snickering at you, and just as you turn to shoot him a glare, he's already picking up a fork full of food and holding it in front of your mouth with a smirk.

"Eat up, kitten."

---

The next stop was laser tag. Dancing around in your seat as you pull up to the place, you practically rush out of the car and up the steps to the building.

However-

As you close in on the building you notice a small "Closed" sign on the door, and a note from the management that the place is temporarily closed due to "unforseen circumstances". Whatever that meant.

Instantly, you feel your heart sink.

"No..." you huff out in disappointment. Sylus eyes the sign from behind you in silence, his fingers fiddling with a coin he pulled from his pocket. "Don't worry..." he assures you, "We can do something else instead."

For the second time today, Sylus comes to the rescue. Instead of laser tag, he takes you to a private shooting range and instead of shooting at each other, instead the two of you aim at targets and compete for who gets the most headshots.

It wasn't what you had planned but it was still nice. Still, when it's over you can't help but wish things were different. You had wanted to surprise him; he was always gifting you such extravagant gifts and taking you to amazing places. You had hoped to do something nice for him for a change but instead, he was just taking care of you again.

Still, the least you could do now was try to remain positive. He still seemed to be having a good time. Plus, you still had the kitties to look forward to and there was no chance a park would be closed.

"I win!" you gloat, playfully, as you both calculate your points. "Guess the leader of Onychinus can't compete with a skilled hunter like myself when it comes to guns."

Lost in your joy of having kicked the leader of a crime syndicates but in a battle of target practice, you don't notice the way Sylus' eyes soften as he sees the way smile up at the scoreboard.

"Yeah...I guess not."

---

As the two you of you exit the gun range your greeting by the now dim light of outside. As you peer up into the sky, you notice grey clouds have taken form and blocked out the sun, dimming the expanse around you.

Then it hits you, the first drop of due from the clouds above. It was about to rain.

"I don't think there'll be any kitties in the park today..." Sylus says as he drapes his jacket over your head and guides you back to the car.

You had checked the forecasts...it wasn't supposed to rain today.

The sigh that leaves your lips is long and drawn out. Your lip trembles slightly and you drop your head to keep him from seeing the look on your face.

First the restaurant messed up your booking. Then the laser tag place was closed and now, no kitties?? Was Sylus even enjoying himself? He kept having to fix every little thing. Why was everything going wrong today?

You wanted to stay positive, for his sake, but you hated that you couldn't do this one thing, and on such a special day.

He guides you back to the car quickly, not wanting for you to get sick in this weather, and you silently follow.

Once you're in the car, he turns on the heater so the two of you can warm up, then begins the drive back to the N109 Zone. He doesn't say anything at first, the drive home fairly quiet for the most part but, at some point or another his hands find their way back to yours.

"Don't fret about today. We can do all the things you had planned some other time." he says, trying to make her feel better.

"I know, I'm just disappointed. I had planned everything so perfectly and nothing went as I planned. I really wanted to make you happy today...but everything got ruined" you reply, muttering the last part a bit.

There's a short pause between the two of you as you pull into his garage, and then he speaks up again. "Sweetie, with you around, I'm always happy. It doesn't matter what we do or where we are. You're what makes me smile. I love you."

A warm feeling washes over you as he speaks those three words out loud. He had never said them before...sure he had expressed it in more ways than one but hearing him say it set your entire body ablaze.

"I love you too." You say back, looking up at him with teary eyes.

---

When the two of you get inside, it's much earlier than planned. Yet despite that Luke and Kieran don't seem surprised in the slightest.

Instead, the surprised one is you, the two of them standing the living room in front of a giant dino plushie, several floral bouquets all over the room, and various heart shaped chocolate boxes all over the place.

Sylus pinches the bridge of his nose and shakes his head, "I knew I should've picked the plushie myself" he states as he looks at the oversized thing in his home. Your apartment was too small, he doubted something so big could fit inside, he barely could fit inside your apartment and this thing had to be at least a few feet taller than himself. Plus, he had told them to get the crow plushie.

"But boss...this one look like you." Keiran stated pointing to its face.

"Yeah, she'd definitely like this one more." Luke added.

Sylus was about to say something else, but the sound of your giggling turns his attention away from the two jesters. "Thank you, Sylus. I love it." is all you say, yet it's enough to steal his breath away.

"Today's been pretty hectic. Why don't we just relax and turn on a movie?" you suggest. Sylus smiles softly and nods, "Yeah...I'd like that."

The both of you shower in separate bathrooms and you take brief opportunity to slip the lingerie on underneath your robe.

As the sun sets, you and Sylus are snuggled up together on his bed as a cheesy romance movie plays on the tv in his bedroom -- a new addition to his room that was added in for occasions like this one.

You play with his soft hair while he lays in your lap. There was still one more gift you wanted to give him. "What're you thinking about?" he asks, noticing you lost in thought.

"Well...I still have one more gift for you." You admit shyly, averting your gaze. You weren't usually this shy with him, but you hadn't done something like this before with him, so you were a little nervous.

He raises his eyebrow, your sudden confession piquing his interest.

"Oh? What is it?" he asks, inquisitively.

"Well... It'd be better if I showed you instead." You answer, not wanting to ruin the surprise.

Sylus looks at you with playful suspicion. "Don't tell me, is it another bomb?" he asks with a playful smirk on his lips.

"Maybe..." You answer back, matching his playful tone.

You muster up what courage you have and make your way off the bed, standing over him as he props himself up to get a better look at you.

Right on cue, the lights in the room turn red, and the little flower canons hidden throughout the room go off, sending rose petals flying, floating down throughout the room.

And, as the petals flutter slowly onto the floor, with it drops your robe.

Revealing your outfit underneath

His eyes glow in the dark and yet upon seeing you they still darken instantly, but he makes no effort to move just yet.

"Will you...unwrap me?" you ask, teasingly.

He doesn't give you a verbal answer, instead your suddenly hoisted off your feet, your legs wrapping around his waist for support as he pulls you into a kiss.

Your heart rates sync up, beating quickly as he kneads the soft plush of your ass with his hands, while groaning into your mouth.

The kiss is desperate, full of yearning and desire. It's like he's trying to commit the feel of your lips to memory and imprint the taste of you on his tongue.

As you find yourself dropped onto the bed, he pulls away to rid himself of his own robe, letting the soft silk pool beneath his feet.

"I'm guessing you like your gift?" you taunt, though given how breathless you sound, it only gets a chuckle out of him.

" Oh I love it, Kitten." he answers back just as breathless, as he hovers on top of you, peppering your skin with kisses "But... you'll have to forgive me."

"What? Why?" You moan out as his kisses gradually get more and more intense as they make their way from your neck, to between your breasts, down your stomach, and between your thighs.

"Because" he places a kiss just a few centimeters from where you want him to be. "I'm about to ruin your last surprise..."

"Sylus...Wha-" RIIP.

The seat of your panties is torn off your body before you can even get a chance to speak.

He moves quick, giving you no time to think before his face is buried in between your thighs, his tongue circling around your clit before sucking on it softly. All the while, his eyes never leave yours - observing every reaction.

Your back arches up from the bed, and you can't help grind against his tongue as your hands bury themselves in his soft white hair.

"Oh fuck!" You whine, as he slides his tongue between the soft petals of your 'flower' fucking you with his tongue while his thumb continues to massage your clit.

"Does it feel good, kitten?" he asks, teasing you as two of his long fingers slowly sink inside of you. You can swear a growl erupts from his chest as he feels the way you pulse around his fingers.

His tongue swipes up and down your bundle of nerves and he slowly opens you up with his fingers. "Tell me you like it, beg me for more...."

he fucks into you faster, the veins in his arms protruding slightly as his hand picks up speed.

"I li..like it! Oh fuck...Sylus please!"

"More..." he practically commands, while picking up the pace.

You start to squirm, an orgasm fast approaching, but he's quick. His free hand presses your waist down into the mattress, keeping you in place as pure bliss washes over your body. Your thighs tremble, but he doesn't stop or slow down, kissing your thighs and whispering soft words of affirmation as he finger fucks you through your orgasm.

When it's over his tongue is back on you, lapping up the juices that spilled from you. You whimper from the sensation, sensitive still as he eats you like a man starved.

"S-Sylus..." you whine, trying to squirm away from his fervent tongue.

Theirs a glint in his eyes that makes him almost seem scary in the dim lighting of the room. Like part of him is lost in lust, it's such a primal stare that you would swear that he intends to devour you.

"Taste yourself." Is all he says, as he brings you into another heated kiss. You kiss back, meeting his desperation with twice as much passion. He licks the inside of your mouth, and you actually get a taste of yourself from his tongue.

You're so lost in the kiss that your mind blanks, and the soft shuffling of his underwear being slipped off and dropped on the floor goes unheard.

It's not until you feel the firm head of his dick pressing up against your that you come back into focus.

"Sylus wait..." you start to say as you press up against his shoulder. "Do you want to stop?" he asks, checking to make sure you were okay.

You flip over, making it so you were now on top. In part because you wanted control...but also because you had a feeling that if he had control most definitely lose it.

"I'll be the one in control tonight." you state matter-of-factly. He's shocked at first but lets you have your way -- for now.

"Go ahead."

He watches you as you take his cock into your hands, the size of it making you falter a bit. He wasn't just long but thick too, you could feel the veins that run alongside it. As you line it up with your entrance you can't help but wonder how you managed to fit it inside you the first time.

You push down a bit, earning a soft sigh from Sylus as you slowly sink down onto his tip. He's trying his best not to buck his hips up into you, but the way your face looks as you take him in inch by inch is too cute. He wants more, more reactions, more of your pretty sounds, more of you, all of you.

He holds your hips, guiding you down more until finally you're sat on top of him. You're shaking like a leaf, and he gives you just a moment to adjust before grinding his hips up into you. It's slow, but just quick enough to coax a few moans out of you.

You match his pace, bouncing up and down to match his thrusts. He places his hand at the nape of your neck, pulling your face down so he could kiss you while the sound of your bodies connecting fills the room.

You moan in his mouth, and he brings his hand down to grab and grip and the soft flash of your ass.

In seconds you're flipped over again, and you gasp as he pins your legs to your chest.

"Sylus?? What're you--I mean I'm supposed to--"

He slowly draws his hips back, leaving only the tip inside your heat, then thrusts back in fast, the sound of skin on skin echoing loudly in the room from its impact.

"Sorry Sweetie, but I'd much rather play with my new gift this way."

You're left with no time to think, as he does it again. and again. setting a new pace that has your mind blanking.

The sex feels nothing short of primal as he practically digs a space for himself inside you, burying himself inside your pussy.

This time, the two of you cum together, and your vision fuzzes from the jolts of pleasure that flow through you.

"Seems like your body prefers when I'm in control too..." he whispers in your ear just before nipping at it lightly.

You think that after he came, that would be the end. Yet despite his recent orgasm, the man hovering over you is still as hard as ever.

He must read your expression well, because the next words that leave his lips have you shaking with anticipation. "Did you think I would be done with just this? Valentines' day isn't over until the sun comes up, and I intend to enjoy my gift all night."

Flipping you over to your hands and knees, he starts again. Thrusting at an impossible pace to keep up with, pushing himself as deep as your body will allow, grinding against that sensitive spot inside you over and over again.

"I love you..." he whispers, kissing away a few tears that fall as another orgasm consumes you. Never had you felt this good before, it was amazing and too much all at the same time.

You tell him you love him too and he groans, while pressing into you deeper, harder.

'He's a beast' you think as he tells you he wants more. To hear his name from his lips more. To hear you tell him you love him more. More sounds. More.

---

Both your bodies drenched in sweat; his fluids mixed in with yours is dripping down your thighs, and bites and bruises litter your skin. You're not sure how much more of it you can handle. He's slowed down, thrusting more gently to accommodate for the fact that you're more sensitive, but shows no sign of exhaustion. Only desperation and yearning. He keeps at it like once he stops you'll disappear.

"No more..." you croak, voice hoarse from all the screaming you've done.

His face is buried in your chest, kissing any spots he thinks he's missed with his cock still buried inside you. He looks up at you with a look of longing, and for the first time ever you catch him pouting.

"Just...one more..." he asks, practically begs, while kissing each of your nipples, "The suns not up just yet..."

---

The sun is shining through the curtains when you wake up. Your entire body feeling both sore and heavy. Instead of the lingerie you wore last night, you're in one of Sylus' black buttons ups and a fresh pair of underwear, and your body is clean and so are the sheets.

The fresh smell of food catches your attention as Sylus makes his way in with painkillers and breakfast. "You're awake." he chirps, much to lively for someone who was up all night.

"Did you sleep at all?" you ask, concerned as you try to sit up.

"Don't move. Let me take care of you." He states as he sits down on the edge of the bed with tray in hand, "And yes, I slept just fine after making sure you were cleaned up." he answers, holding some food up to your lips.

"Are you some kinda beast? Why am I the only one tired and sore?" You frown but take a bite anyway.

"I didn't think you'd pass out. Next time, I'll be more careful." he says in a genuinely apologetic.

You sigh, giving a small "it's fine." to show you weren't really upset. You honestly kind of liked that side of him. "Next Valentines Day, I'll give you an even greater gift, and I'll be in control" you mutter, taking another bite of food that he offers.

He smiles, imagining another year with you at his side, "I'm looking forward to it."

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

Authors Note: Hey Everyone! This is my first fic! I hope you enjoyed the read, it's a long one but I really wanted to give a full valentines day experience with the character! Ignore any spelling or grammar errors. English is my second language and any mistakes I will try to revise and fix! For any Love and Deep Space Players who want to Connect, you can find me on X and Ao3 (Check in BIO!) I also intend on making a Discord chat for anyone (21+) who would be open to making requests, making suggestions, or just yapping about Love and Deepspace Content so please be on the lookout for that soon! I hope you enjoy the story, and more for the other LI's will be coming soon!

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