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withahappyrefrain · 2 days ago

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Drowning in the Light Part 1

Summary: Once excited about your job as a lounge singer, now you can barely get through it, thanks to your less than charming boyfriend. Can a blue eyed bodyguard pull you out of a horrible situation? Or are you both doomed by the life you chose?

Warning: extensive reference to domestic abuse (not by Bob), language, guns, mob bodyguard Bob AU (yes he comes with a warning you'll see)

***

Sharp pain seared throughout your body, starting at your legs, bruised from kicks, up to your shoulders, sore from being shoved against a wall. Then your head, God, your head. You must have hit something when you got knocked down.

The throbbing pain surrounding your right eye was familiar. From past experience, you knew it would be bruised, no need to look in the mirror. But the sharp, stinging pain near your scalp was new. Gently, you placed your fingers on the area, feeling something wet.

Blood.

You should get up, take care of yourself, try to leave before the man responsible for it all comes back. But instead, all you could do was curl into a ball.

It wasn't always like this.

For as long as you could remember, you wanted to sing. Selling out Madison Square Garden wasn't your end goal. No, you were content to land a job where you could sing at the same place every night. No more wedding gigs that took up your entire weekend. No more supplementing your income with that lousy waitressing job. Plus, the owner was sweet on you.

At first.

Slowly, you sat yourself up, thankful the pain in your arms from a few days ago has subsided. It wasn't fun wearing long sleeves in late spring, but you didn't have the time to cover it up with makeup. No, you were now far too busy helping run the club, despite making almost no money from it. After all, who was going to restock the bar? Clearly not the owner. Nor would he clean up the room he just destroyed. Chairs had been knocked over. A now broken bottle of Bourbon had clearly been smashed against the wall, the scent burning your nostrils.

But no sign of the man who was the cause of all this.

Looking back, the red flags were obvious, but at the time, they were easy to ignore. You were living your dream and had found someone who supported it. That was all you wanted since moving away from your family to pursue your ambitions.

So what if he got a little jealous when you spoke to male patrons? It was easy to calm him down and besides, you quickly learned to be on the lookout for him. When he suggested you stop interacting with your family, it seemed to come with good intentions. They had never supported your dreams and their phone calls always ended with an offer to pay for graduate school, scoffing at the possibility you were truly happy.

In retrospect, it’s possible they saw the red flags you were blind to.

Moving in together was a no brainer. It meant you could quit your temp office job that you did only to make ends meet. It also made sense why you were giving part of your paycheck to him, to help cover household expenses.

You were now lucky if you could stash away a few dollars from your nightly tips before he got to it.

Running a club was stressful, especially one where clients did seedy business. They never harmed you or other patrons, unless provoked (by someone who had too much liquid courage and not enough wits about them). He started off just yelling, which then turned into shoving, which had now turned into you lying on the floor of your dressing room, surrounded by destruction.

So you didn't get up right away. Your eyes remained closed as you attempted to block out the sounds of an argument on the first floor. Your so-called "boyfriend" was probably giving some bullshit excuse as to why he was unable to pay someone on time.

Again.

Tonight, you had interrupted to offer a much better reason as to why he couldn't pay a vendor on time. You even got an extension, something the club desperately needed. Can’t run a place like this without alcohol, after all.

But that wasn't good enough. You made him look incompetent, stupid. Like he couldn't manage his own lounge. It was the truth, one that everyone could see, but making it known was a sin. You knew it would be bad with the way he grabbed your wrist, practically dragging you back to your dressing room, ignoring the stares of onlookers.

This was a new low for him. Funny how he kept surprising you, even a year later.

Sounds of men talking downstairs were muffled, probably one of the many seedy customers who stayed past closing to discuss less than legal matters. They were loud tonight and you'd probably have to clean up whatever mess they were making. After all, your boyfriend was far too busy to help.

But first you had to clean up yourself. Standing up was painful, your knees throbbing from being pushed onto the hard wooden floor earlier. If things kept the way they were going, you would need a walking cane before you turned forty.

There was no way in hell you could put up with this for much longer. You wanted to leave, it was escaping that was the problem. The other night acts felt pity for you, but they also had to make ends meet. Assistance came with a risk, whether it was losing a huge chunk of their income or worse, facing his wrath. Same with the bartenders, the bottle girls. Looking the other way was much safer. Besides, you weren’t the first they’ve seen in this situation. Won’t be the last either.

The broken mirror encapsulated the damage done to your body. Your tights were now torn, a sleeve ripped, revealing the constellation of healing bruises on your arm. The skin around your right eye was swollen, no doubt turning into a blackened bruise by tomorrow. Some of the blood near your scalp had begun to dry. That would be a pain to hide. Applying makeup would run the risk of infection. Perhaps you could come up with a believable excuse, should Bob ask.

Bobby.

The thought of the blue eyed man brought a sense of warmth to your body. How such a kind man ended up working as the bodyguard of a gang was a mystery, how he kept that kindness even moreso. His boss Maverick had been a repeat customer for several months now. Where they went, Bob followed. He always made sure to comment on how well you did up on stage, even sneaking you a tip. Bob had the sweetest smile you ever saw; pink lips forming into a thin, slightly lopsided grin, the corners of his eyes subtly creasing. He didn't smile during his shifts, just with you.

His beautiful smile entered your mind quite often. It was the nicest thing you’d see all day. Yes, you were in a relationship, but it’s not like you were in love with the guy. No, if you had a choice, it would be Bob, the man who always spoke respectfully to you, always asked how you were doing, always genuine.

But you didn’t deserve a guy like Bob Floyd. Before, you hoped for luck. That you’d finally win this time and be happy. Be loved.

What a fucking joke.

Wetness began to form around your eyes. Looking up, your reflection revealed eyes brimming with tears. A year ago, you rarely cried. Now it happens almost every day. You had become numb to it, barely registering as you grabbed a tissue, trying not to physically wince as you blotted the open wound.

It was time to fix yourself. Stuff it all down and go out and sing. Just like you did every other night.

Bob Floyd had always been quiet. Truth was, he preferred to mind his own business and not get in anyone’s way. Ironic, considering his job.

He didn’t want to do this. But when his father died and left Bob, his mother, and his four other penniless, his sixteen year old self knew something needed to change. Temporary, he had told himself, it would be temporary. Enough to get his family back on their feet. Besides, it was more de-escalating situations rather than causing them. Usually his stern voice and presence was enough to deter folks, meaning the amount of times he had to resort to violence was rare.

It was supposed to be a temporary job.

But he was good at it. He got promotions, more money, more stability for his family. He was able to send his mother back to school, giving his family a better life. When Iceman retired, Bob was kept on for the new generation due to his valuable knowledge and established connections.

Jake called him a stealth pilot. Quietly lurking, observing. Taking mental notes to share later, keeping track of every detail. It was how Bob realized what was going on with the lounge singer.

Bob had been going to the club with Jake and the rest of the crew for almost a year now. Maverick wanted to keep a low profile, so he sent the latest recruits who had proven themselves. The first sign was how the light had steadily left your eyes, even when you were singing. When Bob first met you, you were like a ray of sunshine, eyes bright, smile radiant.

Then came the tense arguments with the owner. Bob could never hear them but he could tell from your face afterwards it wasn't a two way street.

Bob didn't hate most people. But he fucking hated Beau Simpson.

It was obvious he didn't treat you well. Bob noticed how prevalent bruises had become on your arms, how often you ‘bumped into something' to explain a black eye. No person could be that clumsy.

So when Simpson had come up short on payment again, Bob didn't show mercy.

“Isn't this the fifth time he's been late? Why don’t we go down and talk to him?” Bob suggested to Jake.

Jake, always eager to please Maverick (and annoy Bradley) was more than happy to take him, Javy, Mickey, and Natasha over. They were a well oiled machine; Bob would find and corner him, Jake would ask the questions directly to the traitor, Javy and Mickey were there for muscle while Nat was getting the real answers from others and looking into their systems if need be.

The coward made eye contact with Bob and then swiftly turned around, no doubt attempting to avoid him. What a fucking joke. Bob hated this was the guy you were tangled up with.

So yeah, maybe he should have used his voice before putting his hands on Simpson. A saying his mother always told him and his siblings, her school teacher career showing.

She also still thought Bob worked in construction.

Bob couldn't lie, it felt good to slam him against the wall. Make him feel a tenth of the pain he caused you. It would never be enough, not unless he saw Simpson six feet under.

But when he came into the doorway of your dressing room, the rage disappeared. It was gone the moment he saw you hunched over the vanity, applying makeup despite the steam of tears on your face.

"Dove?"

As soon as you turned your head, he made way to the vanity, carefully stepping over broken glass and knocked down chairs.

Bob knelt down, his hands near yours, but not quite touching. You couldn't even look him in the eyes. Normally his special nickname would bring a smile to your face, but you were too ashamed of how he found you.

What a fucking pathetic site.

"Dove," he repeated, his voice now soft, barely above a whisper, "Who did this to you?"

He knows the answer and has for months now. It's the confirmation he needs. But it's also the hope that maybe with your confirmation, he could help you begin to heal.

The name was on the tip of your tongue. But that would mean admitting it. Not just that he hurt you. But the fact that you had become some pathetic singer who was stuck with an obvious piece of shit. This wasn't supposed to happen. When you first started working here, it was full of excitement.

It was easy for your mind to think of Bob when you were with your partner. It was easy to think of those surprisingly soft blue eyes. In bed, you did your best to pretend it was his hands touching your body. It was an escape. A fantasy you indulged in as a desperate attempt to not think about your current situation.

Like he would want to be with you! You were a liability. You didn't deserve him.

That didn't stop your heart from fluttering when you felt his fingers gently cup your face, tilting your head up to look at him. His fingers were calloused. You knew what his hands were capable of, having witnessed him sling punches, like they were nothing.

But Bob Floyd’s touch was soft. You could feel them on your face, but he refrained from adding pressure. And gentle, oh so gentle. He avoided the bruise that was forming near your right eye. The way his thumb gently stroked your mascara stained cheek was comforting.

Soft. Gentle. Comforting.

When was the last time you felt any of that from someone touching you? It was a foreign concept, one you so desperately chased that you were willing to ignore the bright, beaming red flags and run head first into danger.

By all means, he should be seen as a danger. A huge scarlet flag. His 'job' required him to oversee and commit violent, illegal acts. He didn't hide it. And with those expensive suits, rings, and those dark eyes, he looked almost like the Devil, ready to trick you into signing your soul away.

But he wasn't like that. At least, not to you. A sweet smile, reserved only for a selective few. Eyes that pierced through your soul. His presence brought an ease to you.

He leaned in, his forehead almost touching yours. A battle of emotions was going through his eyes. Rage. Anger. Concern. It felt nice for someone to be concerned about you.

"Did Simpson do this to you?” He asked, voice barely above a whisper.

When you nodded, it felt like a weight being lifted off your chest. Finally, someone else knew.

Bob’s jaw tensed as he nodded his head in understanding, "And was he responsible for all the other injuries you've had?"

He did notice. Why he was paying attention to you, some lowly singer, was beyond your comprehension.

You nodded your head, tears filling your eyes, "It's…..it's all been him, Bobby."

He nodded, the tension in his jaw remaining. He wanted to say so much, but knew what was most important: you. Your safety.

"Let's get you cleaned up Dove," He said softly, standing up. He stuck out his hand, clearly gesturing for you to take it.

It felt as though all the air had been sucked out of the room. His large hand felt like a peace offering, a shining lighthouse in the midst of the dark, bleary night. But taking it meant Bob would now be involved. You didn't want that, couldn't have that. If he found out….sure, Bob could take care of himself. But you would feel guilty if anything were to happen to him. Besides, what would happen to you? What if Simpson found out? The beating would probably send you to the emergency room. Even worse, it probably meant you wouldn't get to see Bob anymore.

You needed that lopsided smile and kind eyes to get through the nights. The thought of not seeing them scared the shit out of you.

"You need a first aid kit, not concealer," Bob explained, sensing your hesitation.

So sensible. But you didn't have time for any of that. Shaking your head, you turned back to the vanity, “I have to go on soon.”

“We shut down the place. Need Simpson to explain why he's gone two months without paying us.”

When you still didn't move, Bob’s hands trailed down your face, landing on your shoulders. He kneeled down, looking into your eyes, “Can I help you? Please?”

"Bob, it's not worth it. I don't…if he finds out…” The very thought of what could happen made your eyes brim with tears.

You were right to be hesitant. Bob wished he could scoop you up into his arms and take you far away from this place. For now, first aid would have to be done and he needed you to see that.

“Dove, I can make sure he never touches you again, if that's what you want.” God, he hoped you wanted that, “But getting cleaned up is the bare minimum of what you need. And the least I can do after not saying anything earlier.”

So he had noticed all the bruises you tried to cover up. How the light in your eyes only came back when you were up on stage singing or talking to him. He noticed how quickly that light drained from your eyes, how fear replaced it at the sight of Simpson. Bob should have said something earlier, instead of waiting so long.

Never again.

You didn’t know this at the time. But something, deep in the back of your mind- call it hope or wishful thinking-told you he meant it.

So you took his hand. He could see you limping and placed an arm around your waist, allowing you to put your weight on him. Sage flooded your nostrils, his scent comforting. Bob led you to the couch in the Manager's office, walking away to find the first aid kit. It was quiet, but not in an awkward way. You enjoyed it, to be truthful. So much of your life was loud, violent, chaotic. To sit in peace was refreshing. Though you couldn't help but look at the door, the thought of anyone being able to come in at the back of your mind.

“He's not going to come up. Mickey and Javy are currently holding him down while he answers Jake,” Bob commented, not even bothering to look up from the first aid kit.

How did he know? The question was soon replaced by another one, “Why aren't you down there with them?”

Bob made his way to the couch, gently laying the kit on the coffee table, rummaging as he picked up sanitation wipes.

“I wanted to make sure you were okay,” He confessed, the tops of his cheeks turning a dusty pink. The admission made your heart flutter. Despite his job requiring a cold, hardened demeanor, a kindness shone through.

You witnessed it the first time Bob met you. Oh, you had seen him beforehand. It was hard not to miss the tall handsome man with the piercing blue eyes, clad in a well fitted suit. The top of his shirt unbuttoned just enough to reveal a silver chain that reflected against the lights.

God, he was so attractive. Still is. It was your first day on the job and the last thing you wanted to do was ruffle one of the patrons. Beau had warned you that they would leave you alone as long as you did the same.

Looking back, you wondered if his advice had other intentions, more self serving ones that out of kindness. You tried to follow his advice, situating yourself near the bathroom while waiting for your cue. Once the previous act waves goodbye, you knew it was time to move. But God, you were so nervous that day! So nervous that you were too busy inspecting your dress for any possible wrinkles instead of looking up.

Your head ran into a firm chest, large hands quickly stabilized your body. When you looked up, you found yourself face to face with Bob Floyd.

Instead of a scowl, there was a small smile on his face as he asked, “You alright ma'am?”

You had been smitten ever since. Keeping a distance made sense, he didn’t deserve you. Which is why you brushed it off as just a silly crush and looked elsewhere for affection.

“Whatcha thinking about Dove?” Bob asked before gingerly applying the sanitizing wipes to your forehead.

“The day we met. You were so sweet, making sure that I was okay and wishing me good luck,” you spoke fondly of the memory, sharing a smile with him, “I think about that day often.”

“I do too,” he confessed, making your heart flutter once again. It made you want to explain, want to tell him everything that had happened.

“I....it's all been going on for a year. It wasn't bad at first. Like yeah, he would yell at me, but he'd apologize afterwards. At first he’d just grip my shoulders real hard. Then he'd shove me out of the way. But he would still apologize to me afterwards. Sometimes he'd even get me flowers. I knew business was rough, so I convinced myself it wasn't personal,” you paused, “I must sound so fucking dumb.”

“No. There's nothing wrong with wanting to see the best in someone,” Bob mumbled as he shifted through the first aid kit, finding the right size gauze, "Doesn't make you dumb."

“That's what I kept telling myself when it got worse. Over time, he’d stopped apologizing. Made me feel bad, like it was my fault. And I knew it wasn't, but I didn't want to set him off again. By the time I realized it wasn't going to get better, it was too late. Did you know you need ID to enter those shelters? Can't get in if you don't have it. I've been trying to save up what I can to get a ride back to my hometown, but it's been six months and I don't even have half of what I need,” your cheeks felt wet, no doubt being stained by tears.

“He takes your earnings too?” Bob asked, trying to contain his anger by clutching a rag in his hand.

You nodded, “I can only take a little here and there, so he won't notice. I didn't want him to find out and…..”

A sob escaped your chest. Once it was released, you couldn't stop. Given how often you cried, it shouldn't feel any different.

But then a strong pair of arms wrapped themselves around you, gently pulling you into a broad chest. Resting your head in the crook of Bob’s neck, you felt a sense of safety for the first time in who knows how long. A soft pair of lips gently pressed against your temple, a thumb caressing your cheek.

“We can make sure he never touches you again. And we will,” Bob murmured against your skin.

“How?” you sniffled, “I have a contract and it’s legally binding, I can’t leave.”

He shook his head, “We can take care of that.” Your hands found his, fingers skimming over his long digits, tracing over each ring, every crevice and line. It was comforting, helping you slow down your breathing.

Bob continued, “Natasha found out he's been running this place dry on purpose to commit fraud. He doesn't have enough to pay us back, so Jake is gonna make him sign over the place to Maverick.”

You had heard whispers about Bob’s boss. Apparently he wasn't a fan of Simpson anyways. Not a shocker, the man didn't even try to be pleasant.

Looking up at Bob, your faces were now inches apart. You could see flecks of gray in his stubble and at his temples. Faded freckles were scattered across his face, like stars in the night. Sandy brown hair that curled at the ends. A button nose that accentuated his pink lips. Did he have freckles else along his body?

“Whatcha looking at Dove?" He asked, a small smile creeping across his face.

“Just admiring how handsome you are, Bobby." The words left your mouth before your brain could process them.

You expected him to push you away, to shrug it off. Instead, his cheeks turned a bright red as he ducked his head into the crook of your neck. You figured that Bob heard it all the time. Besides, he was just being nice, done because he felt bad for you.

You certainly didn't expect him to become flustered, unable to form a coherent response. His soft lips pressed a kiss against your collarbone. You could feel his smile burn into your skin, like sunshine. When you grabbed his hand, Bob intertwined his fingers with yours.

Perhaps you weren't the only one who craved affection, for gentle touches.

“You're too sweet for me, Dove.” His breath was hot on your skin, sending a spark of electricity up your spine.

There was always an unspoken tension between you two. So many maybes. Maybe he should have spoken out sooner. Maybe you should have tried going for Bob rather than settling like always.

“I feel the same way about you,” it felt good to finally admit it, like a weight leaving your shoulders. For a brief moment, you forgot the circumstances of the situation. For once, it felt normal, as if you two were simply friends who met through work.

Bob gave your hand a reassuring squeeze before sitting up straight. He studied your face, taking in every mark and line, everything that made you you. Bob also took in the bruise forming around your right eye.

“We need to ice that eye. I'll be right back okay?” After receiving a nod, he untangled himself from your body, much to his dismay and yours. But he wasn't doing it because you repulsed him, no. Rather, he wanted to take care of you.

"So will Maverick be the new owner of this place?" You asked, eyes glued to Bob as he moved about in the room.

"More or less. Though he's still looking for a partner. Someone who can be at the club and help run things," He looked back at you, "Someone who has been working here for a while and was already unofficially running the place."

You knew damn well who he was referring to. Your lips tightened as a pang of panic peaked through your brain at Bob Floyd’s proposal. Was that why he was doing all this? So he makes a business deal?

He must have sensed this, as he quickly came back to the couch, bag of ice in hand, "If you want to. If you want to keep on singing here, you can. I also don't blame ya if you want to get the hell outta here."

Choices. You had multiple choices to choose from. When was the last time that had happened?

"What are you going to do to him?" It was haunting your mind. Was it worth staying here if you would always have to look over your shoulder?

Bob leaned in, his hand gently touching your knee, avoiding the bruises, "Whatever you want us to do."

Whatever?

"If you want me to put him six feet under, I'll do it," He elaborated, "If you want me to scare him off, make sure he never comes within twenty feet of ya, I can do that too."

More choices. It was your problem, you should have a say in how it was solved.

"It's up to you Dove," He said, his thumb softly stroking your knee.

You liked his touch. You wanted more of it. He was so gentle.

"I want…..I want him gone Bobby. I want to never worry about whether he'll show his face again," You revealed. The idea of it being a threat, always looming in the shadows, was terrifying. How could one expect you to sleep soundly at night?

Bob nodded his head. He leaned in and gingerly pressed the bag of ice to the corner of your eye.

“I’m sorry,” he said as soon as he saw you wince, “It's going to hurt a little, but the cooling will help with the bruising.”

“It would be nice to sing again and actually enjoy it. You think Maverick can actually turn this place around?” You placed your hand on his wrist. Bob wanted nothing more than to take yours and kiss your soft skin.

That would be taking it too far. Yes, ironic, considering he already kissed your temple and collarbone. Was a collarbone kiss more intimate than a wrist kiss? Or was it the other way around?

“Bobby?” A soft, sweet giggle fell from your lips upon seeing how his brows knitted together when he was in deep concentration.

“Sorry Dove, what did you say?” Bob asked sheepishly. He didn't know what was worse, confessing he was distracted by your beauty or that he was thinking about kissing your body.

“Do you think Maverick will turn this place around? Not trying to doubt your boss, but if it's just seen as a way to get back at Simpson….I don't know if I'd want to stay.”

Bob’s heart sank. If you wanted to walk out of this place, he'd burned your contract in a heartbeat. He couldn't blame you for desiring it either. But selfishly, he wanted you to stay. He wanted to hear your voice, see your smile, and speak without having to walk on eggshells in case a certain someone was listening.

“I think he will. He’ll probably give the place to either Jake or Bradley, either one of them will do a good job just to piss off the other,” Bob chuckled, “Besides, he doesn't want the transfer to be a big deal, so I don't see him firing folks, other than those that are loyal to Simpson. Which isn't that many. Maybe three?” Bob scratched his head, trying to think of the actual number.

You snorted, “Three's a pretty generous number.”

When Bob Floyd laughs, the corners of his eyes creased and he threw his head back. It was the sweetest discovery. It was also the first time you truly laughed, full belly, that day. Probably the first time in weeks. Lightness flooded your body, despite the bruises and cuts that currently marked it.

“And if Maverick owns it, I'll be here more. I can make sure you're safe. If that's what you want!” Bob added the last part quickly. You had just gotten out of a relationship from hell, one that involved controlling behavior. The last thing he wanted was for you to think similarly of him.

Your lips stretched into a smile, “I'd like that…to see you more. Whenever you came to visit, it was always the highlight of my day.”

Bob couldn't help but beam, his heart fluttering at a pace that should be medically concerning, “I felt the same about you Dove.”

Upon receiving a bright smile from you, Bob removed the bag of ice from your face, fingers delicately skimming over the bruised skin. It was as good as it was going to get. He would be happy to help you ice it later, if that's what you wanted. Bob would give you the world if he could.

Gathering all the courage he had (ironic considering he's killed people before), he leaned in, allowing his lips to press against your cheek. This time, it wasn't stained with tears or smudged makeup. A refreshing change that Bob hoped he could help keep.

You leaned into his touch, fingers finding purchase in the lapels of his black jacket. Looking up, your noses brushed, his lips inches away from yours, if that.

You could stay like this forever. In his arms, you felt safe. You felt like you could joke and laugh and be yourself.

Knowing how soft his lips were made you wonder how they’d feel against your own. It wasn't the first time this thought flashed through your brain. But it was the first time you were close enough to find out.

Simpson will be gone, Bob would make sure of that. There wasn’t anyone to fear, you could just lean in and-

A loud knock interrupted the sweet moment. Fear swept through your body as you buried your face into Bob’s chest.

He pressed a quick kiss to your cheek before telling you to get in the corner, right behind the mini fridge. You did as you were told, crouching down to make yourself invisible to whoever walked through the door.

In your position you could see Bob, pulling out the gun he had tucked in the waistband of his pants. He quickly cocked it as he moved swiftly towards the door. It was locked but that didn’t deter people here.

“Floyd, you in there?” A familiar voice rang out on the other side. Relief flooded your body at the sound of Natasha’s voice. She was a rare sight, working more behind the scenes. It must be pretty bad if they brought her in.

But Bob remained silent, back pressed to the wall, gun in hand. He couldn’t take any risks. Not when it came to your safety. The way he effortlessly demonstrated his care made you wish that Natasha had waited twenty seconds before knocking.

“The rodeo is all cleared,” Nat said. At the sound of their code word, Bob let out a sigh of relief. With his gun still in one hand (just in case), he opened the door, revealing the dark haired woman, who also had a matching gun in hand.

“We finally got him to sign over the place. Now we’re figuring out what to do with him. Got any ideas?” She asked with a smirk.

Bob turned to your direction, as you were now standing by the couch, “I think that’s her decision. She had to bear the brunt of him after all.”

Natasha peered over, taking in your bruises and cuts. She nodded, to silently show her understanding, “What would you like?”

You had a choice. What even was the right thing in this scenario? Was it letting someone live, despite all their wrongdoings? Or was it preventing him from hurting anyone else? The blood wouldn’t be on your hands, literally. But you still played a part.

“I….I want him gone. To not be able to come back to this place and hurt people. You guys know how to do that better than I do.”

You saw them nodding to each other. They had probably made a decision. It was obvious what was going to happen, but you didn't say it out loud. Does that relieve you of some responsibility?

Maybe. Probably not. But it made you feel better inside.

“You wanna come atch?” Natasha asked, motioning to you and Bob.

Seeing you shake your head, Bob mimicked, “I'll stay up here with her. Make sure she's all cleaned up.”

You sat down on the couch, waiting for Natasha to leave. It warmed your heart that Bob chose to stay with you. Maybe he also felt it too, that spark of kismet that circuited back and forth.

Bob kneeled down in front of you, eyes and hands inspecting your arms and your legs. His gentle touch left goosebumps along your skin. You shifted to the edge of the couch, clearly to help him inspect the rest of your wounds.

No other reason.

“I gotta clean up this scrape, don't want it to get infected.” A lovely gesture, considering you didn't make enough money to qualify for health insurance.

You nodded your head. His large hand placed itself on the back of your leg, the other gently pressing a wipe against the cut.

“You'll hear a gunshot pretty soon,” he warned, not wanting you to be alarmed. You nodded, bracing yourself for the imminent noise.

Except you didn't hear a gunshot. You heard several voices arguing.

“Who the fuck are you?!”

“Get him!”

“Get the gun!”

Then, you heard a gunshot.

“God dammit,” Bob cursed under his breath. His eyes darted to the door that Natasha left a hair open.

He moved quickly, not even waiting for you to stand up. Instead, he wrapped an arm around your waist, the other underneath your thighs and picked you up. He carried you to the closest, gently sitting you down in the dark space.

“I’ll be right back, Dove. But I need you to stay here. I'm going to lock the other door, but don't open it to anyone. Even if you hear my voice, don't open it unless I use the rodeo, okay?” His voice was hushed, his ocean eyes piercing your soul.

He was leaving. A fight had broken out when they tried to off Cyclone. Started by either him or his two loyal goons. Bob was going to leave you.

He might not come back.

“No,” your voice shook like a leaf in the wind, “Please- don't leave me!”

His fingers stroked your cheeks in an attempt to bring comfort, “I’ll be back, okay? But I gotta go in order to protect you. I don’t want him or one of those goons to find ya.”

In the distance, a familiar voice yelled out your name. A voice that made your blood turn to ice.

Bob was operating off of adrenaline, off of the primal need to protect you. Desire was coursing through him as well. Your tears were for him, not because he brought you pain but rather you cared so much for him that the thought of him not returning tugged on your heart strings. He wanted to wait, to make sure you were ready and then take you out on a nice date.

The nice Italian place that was secretly a front for Slider’s real business. Despite being a front, it made some of the best penne alla vodka in town.

But a nice date wasn't at the forefront of Bob’s mind currently. Rather, it was your lips and how they were quivering, how soft they looked.

His mama would smack him upside the head if she could see him now, kissing a girl he hadn’t taken out on a date yet.

She would also smack the shit out of him for lying about his job all these years.

Bob was too lost in the softness of your lips. Your hands found their way into his soft hair, gripping the strands to deepen the kiss. His lips were so soft, his hands gentle as they cupped your jawline, as though he didn’t want to apply additional pressure, as though he didn’t want to cause you any harm.

You truly believed that was his intent.

The kiss seemed to go on forever, but simultaneously not long enough. Sounds of heavy footsteps and yelling in the hallway caused him to break away. Your hands remained on the lapels of his jacket, silently begging him.

Please. Don't go. Stay with me. Please.

“I'll be back, okay Dove?” he whispered before pressing a quick kiss to your lips once more. He removed your hands from the lapels, silently standing up. Bob paused for a brief moment, for what you hoped (in vain) was him considering staying. Instead, he took off his jacket and placed it on your shoulders.

You wanted to shout, but that would be deadly. All you could do was watch Bob close the door, listen to the sound of his gun cocking and then a second door closing.

Left in the dark. Alone. Bringing your knees up to your chest, you tried rocking yourself back and forth, silently willing the tears building up to go away.

They still fell.

#my writing #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd x you #robert floyd x reader #top gun au #top gun maverick au #bob floyd imagine #bob floyd fanfiction #bob floyd fic #robert bob floyd #bob floyd fluff #bob floyd #lewis pullman

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silcoitus · 2 days ago

Note

Hello! I think I'm doing this right but if not, I'm so sorry:

What do you think Silco would do if he found out, years later/during Act 2, that a fling he had when he was alot younger and dumber, resulted in him having a Son/Gender neutral child living in Piltover?

(how this is discovered can be completely up to you)

Would the angst of them being a Piltovian(?) citizen permanently leave their relationship undefined or would he push away his hatred of Piltover and try and meet them?

Better yet, how would Jinx react to this?

Just a bit of potential angst to spice things up I guess haha.

Thank you!

Thank you for this amazing prompt, anon! It's one of my favorite ones I've ever received! Why does writing angst soothe me? It doesn't make sense.

Summer's Ghost

Masterlist | AO3 link

Rating: Mature

Tags: Silco, original female character, original child character, angst, depression, reference to character death, character study

Word count: 2.7k

Beta reader: @juniper-sunny

Silco receives a curious letter from a Piltie boy claiming to be his son. Spurred by lingering bitterness and unresolved anger, Silco visits Topside for answers and to finally speak his mind to the woman who left him so many years ago.

Dear Mr. Silco,

I'm not exactly sure how even to begin this letter, so I’ll start with the part that is most relevant to you:

I am your son.

I know, I didn't believe it at first either. But if you keep reading, I can tell you how that happened.

My mother was a brilliant woman, born and raised here in Piltover. She was the top of her class and an artist. My grandparents tell me that, in her university days, she had a bit of a rebellious streak. She ran away from home to live in the Undercity. Over the course of a summer there, she met a man. And fell in love.

You probably know more about how the rest of this story goes than me.

After that summer, my mom had a change of heart. She returned home with a new bundle in tow: me. And while she never told me, I assume she left the Undercity in order to raise me here.

But you probably don’t care about all that. You just want to know why I’m writing to you.

Well, first off: I'm not asking for money. My mom (and grandparents) provided for me and I have a comfortable life here in Piltover.

I don't want anything from you. Not really. I wrote because… well… My mother died recently. It's actually how I found out about you. My birth was a closely guarded secret and it was only when I was cleaning her stuff out after her death that I learned. She had a box of things from her time with you: a diary, some photographs, a bracelet. I thought you might want them.

I don’t know what your relationship with my mother was like or how it ended, but this seemed like something she would want me to do. If I crossed a line, I’m sorry.

I've attached her obituary. It has her final resting place. If you want to collect the box, I've left it on her grave. If you haven’t taken it by next week, I’ll assume you want nothing to do with it. And that’s okay, too.

Sincerely,

P.S I also included a photo for proof. You can hold onto it. I already made myself a copy.

When finally Silco lifts his eyes from the letter, it's with slightly parted lips and inward curling eyebrows. Visions of memories long ago flick across his mind’s eye unbidden, released like water from a dam.

Setting the letter down, he retrieves the other effects in the pneumatic tube. Fingers tremble as they pull out a small photograph. It's worn around the edges and the ink has faded significantly, but the image is unmistakable: it's him in his early twenties, standing next to the woman who left him.

He remembers that summer clearly, the memories vivid and the feelings so strong it could power a Hexgate. He remembers the late nights talking, the sound of her laugh, the way she was always sketching in her notebook. He remembers the first time they kissed, followed quickly by the first time they made love.

Silco’s lips press into a thin line, something bitter bubbling within him.

He remembers his desperation when he ran through the Lanes, searching for her. He remembers how he couldn’t sleep for days, worried something had happened. That someone had taken her. Or worse. He remembers crying so hard that he could feel it in his teeth, his cheekbones feeling as if someone was pressing their thumbs to them with the aim of crushing them. He remembers drinking.

And drinking.

Drinking to cope.

Drinking to forget.

Drinking to wash down the bitter taste of the knowledge that he had let someone get so close to him so quickly, only for them to rip his heart out and slash it to pieces. And to add insult to injury—

My mother was a brilliant woman, born and raised here in Piltover.

He stares at that word again.

Piltover

Hand shaking violently, he picks up the pneumatic tube and hurls it across the room. It breaks on impact as it hits the office door, glass shards flying through the air.

Of course.

Who else could chew him up and spit him out? Who else but a Piltie? His home—his life—nothing more than a tourist attraction to her, a vacation away from her cushy, privileged life.

How could he have been so blind?

How could he have been so stupid?

He can feel his heart rate rising, chest heaving as his breathing grows unsteady. Good eye fluttering closed, he puts one hand out, signaling himself to stop.

Slow down.

Breathe.

He takes one long inhale through his nose, holding it for a moment before blowing it out his mouth through pursed lips. When he opens his eyes, his jaw is set, decision made.

He snatches the letter, photo, and newspaper clipping off the desk, shoves them into his coat pocket, and walks out the door.

As far as final resting places go, this certainly is one of the more luxurious ones. Even in death, Topsiders can’t help but preen and self-aggrandize, if not with their bodies, their tombs. Each gravestone seems to be attempting to outdo the next, growing larger and more gaudy in size as Silco walks down the rows of graves. Subconsciously, his nostrils flare and his mouth twitches into a snarl.

When he finds her name among the dead, he’s surprised to see not a tombstone but rather a park bench. Constructed out of blue pearl granite and polished to a brilliant shine, her name, date of birth, and date of death are carved into the back. The soil around the bench looks freshly turned over and the carved letters barely have any dust or dirt accumulated in them. Studying the dates, it would seem M did not lie; she had died two weeks ago.

And there—sitting on one end of the bench, waiting for him—is the box.

His chin lifts as his mismatched eyes scan his surroundings, looking over his shoulder, his ears alert and listening for any signs of other visitors. Certain no one is nearby or within eavesdropping distance, he turns his attention back to the bench.

He could just take the box and go. There’s no need for him to linger here. But as he stands staring at her name—carved with such finality into that unmoving stone—he can’t bring himself to leave.

And yet, it’s odd, addressing a bench. On his way over, he had envisioned himself spitting on a tombstone with great satisfaction. But now, as he’s faced with something as welcoming as a bench in a beautifully maintained cemetery, he feels stuck. Any anger that had been boiling in his abdomen before has simmered down, upended by the unexpected appearance of his former lover’s grave.

Reaching into his pocket, he retrieves the photograph. After propping it up on the bench, he addresses the woman who lies six feet underground.

“You…” He can’t even bring himself to say her name, both hands balled into fists in his coat pockets. “You’ve been here this entire time.”

Both eyes roll as he realizes the error of his statement.

“Not here, but in Piltover.” He brings one hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose, good eye squeezed shut. “I searched for you for weeks. I didn’t sleep. I didn’t eat. I thought someone had taken you. I thought you had—”

Died.

Well.

It’s accurate now, isn’t it?

“Typical Topsider,” he spits out, one hand gesturing as if throwing something away, like the way she had thrown him away, “You come to my home, promising a bright and brilliant future, but all you do is leave destruction in your wake.”

He steps back, pulls his head back, and spits onto the freshly dug soil.

“Disgusting,” he snarls. “And to think, I had lov—”

He pauses, unable to finish the word.

He was young. He was ignorant. That was not love he felt for her. Nor adoration. That was infatuation; merely a young man’s naive idea of what love was.

What that was—it was Not Love.

Silco pulls his fingers through his hair, collecting himself.

“Why?” His hand curls into a fist again. His tone is bitter, full of anger, growing in volume. “I don’t care why you left; I know exactly why you left.”

As he continues to speak, his concerns about being overheard are overcome by the thundering emotions swelling inside him, churning and bubbling after years of dormancy. “You didn’t want your son to grow up to be a street urchin like his sumprat father. No… all I want to know is…”

His next words are bellowed out, the sound coming from deep within his lungs, each word punctuated with a pregnant pause, as if he means to put his entire body into every syllable.

“Why. Didn’t. You. Tell. Me?”

There’s a flurry of wings as nearby birds take flight, spooked by the sudden noise.

Silco’s good eye flutters closed again and he takes long, deep breaths, recentering himself. His hand comes up, forefinger pressing to his sternum. There’s a desperation to his voice now, a yearning. Mourning something he didn’t even know he had until a few hours ago.

“I had a right to know.” He opens his good eye, staring at the photograph. Staring at her. “He is my son. He is my blood. How could you have kept him from me for so many years?”

He gathers himself, eyes casting to the ground.

He had so much more he wanted to say. Years of anguish, torment. But now that he’s here, he’s forgotten them all.

He feels empty.

Finally, he slumps down on the bench, next to the box. It remains untouched beside him. He sits with his shoulders sagging forward, both elbows resting on his knees, hands clasped together as his head hangs low.

It’s quiet in the cemetery.

He turns his face toward the photograph, addressing the woman in it with a whisper of a voice. “All I wanted was for you to be okay. For you to live a good life.” He lifts his head toward the great, open sky of the City of Progress, free from smoke and fissure gasses and ash. “And I suppose I got what I wanted.”

He hangs his head once more, speaking to the ground at his feet.

“You just did it without me.”

A stiff breeze blows through, tugging at his coat. He makes no move to bundle himself up further, letting the chill air surround him, seeping into his bones.

He sits.

And remembers.

After a few moments, he hears movement. Ears prickling and head whipping up, he spots a boy walking between some nearby tombstones. He looks to be a teenager, fifteen—maybe sixteen—years of age. The boy pauses at one of the graves, looking at it silently, his hands shoved into his pockets. After a moment, his eyes lift and meet Silco’s.

Silco meets his gaze, unblinking. The boy doesn’t seem at all fazed by Silco’s corrupted eye, giving him a small, polite nod. Silco nods in return before tearing his eyes away.

Ocean green and volcanic orange eyes pause on the small wooden box on the bench.

Mahogany. Expertly crafted. Like the bench, it’s beautiful in its simplicity. Unbidden, Silco’s throat bobs as he reaches for the box and gingerly places it on his lap.

After taking a deep breath, he lifts the lid.

The first thing he sees is a bracelet. Black in color and made of thin strips of leather with small circular charms along the strings, it’s plain and modest. The surface of the leather looks almost brittle, worn around its edges from frequent use.

Underneath, there’s a stack of photos. Lifting them, he recognizes the first as one he had taken. The late woman stands laughing beside The Last Drop’s jukebox, Felicia grinning widely next to her. Vander can be seen in the corner, caught mid-sentence as he speaks with whom Silco can only assume is Benzo. Setting down that photo, Silco’s eyebrows lift when he sees the next one.

He doesn’t remember this photo being taken at all, which is curious given the fact he’s the one and only subject of the photo. Silco—sporting long hair tied back in a low bun—sits at the bar, pouring over his notebook. His right arm is wrapped in strips of off-white fabric and in his hand is a pencil, which hovers over the page, posed to write.

Silco remembers this night.

It was the night Felicia told him and Vander she was pregnant with Violet. It was the night everything changed.

Funny, how the night he learns of one pregnancy happens to also be the night his lover leaves him because of hers.

He hums, continuing to study the photograph.

He had forgotten what he looked like at that age, so used to seeing his marred reflection in the mirror. So used to covering half of his face with foundation just to regain some semblance of normalcy.

Silco’s about to look through the rest of the box when he sees movement out of his periphery. Quickly, he shuts the box and looks up to see the boy from before, standing in front of him.

“Sorry,” he says, voice quiet. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“You didn’t,” Silco replies simply. His good eyebrow lifts in silent question.

“Is it okay if…” The boy gestures to the empty spot on the bench.

Silco stands, hand offering the seat, the box neatly tucked under his arm.

“Oh, you didn’t have to leave,” the boy says, scooting over to leave some room. “I just wanted to sit for a little bit.”

Silco eyes him for a moment, then, against his better judgement, sits back down. The mahogany box feels heavy in his lap. The boy’s eyes look at it briefly before looking out into the rest of the cemetery.

The pair sit in silence, the only sound the rustle of the leaves as the wind rushes through the nearby trees. Silco’s hand covers the box, fingers idly smoothing over the carving of a rose on the lid.

He doesn’t know why he does it, compelled by a nagging curiosity, but Silco breaks the silence.

“Do you have family here?”

The boy nods. “My grandpa.”

Silco hums.

Silence falls between them again.

“Do you?” the boy asks, eyes lifting to meet Silco’s.

Silco’s lips press together, the tip of his chipped tooth catching the inside of his mouth a little.

“In a sense.”

The boy sighs. “At least it’s a pretty nice view.”

Silco follows his gaze.

“It is.”

“Well, except for that.”

The boy points to a large tombstone made of porcelain with gold accents all along its edges. Every inch of it seems to be covered in some sort of design, painted in blue. But the patterns come across as less elegant and more like visual noise; the eye given nowhere to rest, the senses overwhelmed by all the complicated shapes and textures.

Laughing, the boy makes a retching noise. “It’s so ugly.”

Silco’s lips pull into a smirk, head tilting.

“There’s no accounting for taste.”

“Yup.”

The boy abruptly gets to his feet, seemingly satisfied. Turning to Silco, he puts his hand out in offering.

“I’m Marlow, by the way.”

“Marlow.” Silco takes his hand and shakes it. “Nice to meet you.”

The boy nods, seemingly out of words. After offering a small smile, he turns on his heel, heading for the gates.

Silco continues to sit on the bench, thumb rubbing absentmindedly on the box’s carvings. After a moment, his eyes widen and he reaches into his coat pocket for the letter, eyes darting down to the bottom.

He looks up to find the boy has disappeared. He lets a short chuckle out of his nose as he shakes his head, rising to his feet.

After one final look at his ex-lover’s grave, he starts his trek back home.

He has a feeling this won’t be the last time he visits this cemetery.

And it won’t be the last he’s seen of that boy.

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pretty-blkgirl · 3 days ago

Text

Soul’s Desire [Ch. 35]

- Masterlist -

A/N: Contains a written part

Clue one, accompanied by a bouquet, brought you back home to a layout of gifts in the corner of your room.

Clue two was delivered by Dae, breakfast in bed with a cute little note card telling you to eat and then make your way to the address written down.

Clue three welcomed a brand new car, one you had been eyeing since you were a trainee.

Clue four, inside the car, had a couple more gifts (most notably a brand-new laptop) and instructions to drive over to your regular nail salon.

Clue five was given to you after your nails were done, urging you to drive to another location.

Clue six was at a gorgeous hotel, one away from the public and known for its high level of security and praised for keeping celebrities isolated from any prying fans. You made your way to the hotel room written down to see more decorations.

Clue seven was the long table with nine chairs surrounding it.

You were in awe at how much effort the boys had put into the day. Tears threatened your eyes, but they didn’t have a chance to fall since you felt a hand on your lower back.

Surprisingly, you weren’t startled as you spun around and came face to face with Han.

Behind him, the other seven men stared at you with fond looks.

Remember those tears that didn’t fall? They were doing so at that point. Waterfalls left your eyes as you replayed the day in your mind.

You then started to laugh, wondering where the boys had been hiding when you first walked into the room. An overwhelming sob stopped your laughter, however, and it was up to Felix to try and calm you down.

He couldn’t hide his smile as you cried into his arms. Han was still right by your side, awkwardly looking away to stop himself from shedding any tears.

“I think she’s finally gone insane” You heard Minho whisper to someone.

“Honey, you okay?” Felix asked, his freckles on full display and a little more prominent due to his most recent trip to his home country.

“I’m fine it’s just…I can’t believe this” You sighed, “What did I do to deserve all this?”

Hyunjin rolled his eyes with pure amusement, “Hush. You deserve all of this and more”

You smiled through your tears and then started to hug each of your soulmates. It took a while, of course, which made Minho snicker and Chan coo at you.

Another reason why you were so shocked was because a while ago, you and the boys agreed on no gifts. When you brought this up, Changbin remarked that they told YOU not to get them anything, not the other way around.

You argued, swearing to pay them back for the thousands they must have spent.

“Don’t get us anything” Seungmin warned, “I’ll pinch you”

“You guys did all this for me and I have nothing to give” You whined, setting off Hyunjin’s cuteness aggression towards you.

I.N. sported his usual fox-like grin, “Y/n, all we need is you. You’re enough of a gift for us”

Just as you were about to protest, Chan covered your mouth and led you and the boys to the table.

As if on cue, there was a knock on the door, forcing Felix to hurry off and answer. You guys were quiet as mice as you listened to his deep voice greet and thank whoever was at the door.

He came back into the main room with loads of room service.

“We’re gonna sleep so good tonight” Han smirked, going for Alfredo until Changbin smacked his hand away

“Youngest first” He reminded, “Go ahead y/nnie”

“I.N.’s not that much older than me” you laugh, “Really, don’t wait on me to eat”

All the boys stared at you with obvious defiance, causing you to fill your plate quickly.

Everyone else dug in, chatting about the many different foods presented and what they were most excited to eat first.

You guys sat around the table, eating, drinking, talking, and laughing. As you sat and looked around at your partners, you realized how lucky you were.

Your heart filled with love, and your soulmate symbol grew warm. The boys noticed, some playfully teasing you and others sheepishly rubbing at their palms.

“Let’s have dessert” Han announced after a little while, immediately looking over at you with what you would call “bedroom eyes”

“There’s dessert too?” You ask.

Hyunjin nods, getting up from his chair and walking over to one of the closets. He opens it, pulling out a dark red lingerie set.

He turns his attention toward you, “Got room for dessert baby?”

You nod almost too enthusiastically as you watch the other guys get up and start to clean up at a frustratingly slow pace.

“Go put this on,” Hyunjin says, handing you the outfit and nodding towards the bathroom.

You practically skip there, knowing your soulmates were watching your every move. You decided to take your time to get ready, and you could barely take two steps out of the bathroom before being picked up and carried to the bed.

~~~~|~~~~

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lixies-favorite-cookie · 10 hours ago

Text

⋆.˚ ☁︎ TEENAGE DREAM ☁︎︎ ⋆.˚

—sometimes at eighteen, young love is anything but a teenage dream.

genres・fluff // young love // awkward confessions // meet cutes. summary・love is embarrassing, especially when you're in high school. from the cozy coffee shop to the local campus, eight boys stumble through the awkward world of crushes—trying, and failing to confess to you.

a/n・I haven't been on here for a little while, but I wanted to do something silly and fun to celebrate 500 amazing followers! All of these ideas are still in the works, so the plots may change, but I'm having so much fun writing them. I get hit with a pang of nostalgia every once in a while, remembering my very first fanfiction, haha. If you want to be tagged in any of these, just comment down below or send me an ask—and always remember to support your content creators; it means the world to us!!

☁︎︎ COFFEE CUP ☁︎︎

BANG CHAN loved being a barista; not only did he get exceptional employee discounts but it was peaceful—he handed people their coffee, they said thank you and walked away—nobody ever bothered him. that is, until one night, ten minutes before closing, you walked in with your bright smile and garrulous chit-chat. It only took you one sentence to have him hooked, eagerly waiting for your next late-night visit. what is bang chan going to do when he finally works up the nerve to write his number on the sleeve of your coffee cup, only for you to toss it away without ever seeing it? (coming to your shelves December 10th)

☁︎︎ ROSE ☁︎︎

LEE KNOW was famous for being the star quarterback turned heartless bachelor—or so everybody thought. nobody could have guessed that the reason minho chased every woman away was because, hidden 60 miles from home, there was the animal shelter where he volunteered. the reason he drove an hour every day to nurture abused pets? you. what is minho going to do when, no matter how many roses he gives you, you just can’t take the hint? (coming to your shelves soon...)

☁︎︎ MOTORCYCLE ☁︎︎

︎SEO CHANGBIN. there’s nothing he loves more than his motorcycle—well, that’s not entirely true. he probably loves you more, but his motorcycle is certainly a close second. with prom looming, changbin finally gathers enough courage to ask out his long-time crush and childhood best friend. what is changbin going to do when, halfway through, he chickens out—and, in a panic, ends up ramming his motorcycle into your mailbox while trying to back out of your driveway? (coming to your shelves soon...)

☁︎︎ MY MUSE ☁︎︎

HWANG HYUNJIN has been in love with you for about as long as he’s understood the word love; stuck in the seat beside you since elementary school, hyunjin grew to adore the soft curves of your features. one day, in the middle of art class, he's struck with the urge to draw you. overcome with the fear of never getting the chance to tell you how he feels, hyunjin stuffs the picture in your locker. what is hyunjin going to do when he overhears you talking to your friends about the drawing—and you mention his enemy's name, and not his? (coming to your shelves soon...)︎︎

☁︎︎ LYRIC BOOK ☁

HAN JISUNG is dedicated to securing the top spot in his songwriting class, and nothing is going to stand in his way. that was, until three years ago, when you walked through the door, head held high, speaking of your goals as if they were already part of the present. jisung never thought there would be any competition—until there was. now, he doesn’t know whether to write songs about his overwhelming hatred or his overwhelming ardor. what is jisung going to do when, one day, you’re paired with him for a project, and you discover all the love songs he’s written about you? (coming to your shelves soon...)

☁︎︎ SUGAR AND SPICE ☁︎︎

LEE FELIX, the school's sunshine, the universe’s fallen star—nothing was going to get him down. well, except for you. no matter how hard he tries, felix just can’t form a sentence around you; his tongue twisting into sailor’s knots whenever you look his way. what is felix going to do when he tries to confess through a cake, baked fresh in the culinary class you share, but trips over his shoelaces and smears the cake all over your shirt instead? (coming to your shelves soon...)

☁︎︎ BASEBALL ☁

KIM SEUNGMIN worked with a focus nobody else seemed to reciprocate, constantly practicing to be the best pitcher this world has ever seen. his teammates respected him, his coach loved him, and the school only ever saw his poised manners—not the awkward teenager he really was. that is, until he meets you—equally shy and almost as painfully awkward, studying on the bleachers every day after school. there's something about your concentration, the self- assured direction you set for yourself, that makes him want you even more. what is he going to do when, one day after practice, he scrawls his number on a ball and chucks it toward you? and for once, the ball doesn’t go where he aimed. instead of landing in your lap, he nails you right in the forehead. (coming to your shelves soon...)

☁︎︎ THE BOOK WAS BETTER ☁︎︎

YANG JEONGIN lived in the library. on the days when he wasn’t cramming for an exam, he was relaxing with a good book. the library had always been peaceful for him—a sanctuary that students rarely ever touched. that is, until one random morning, he sees you walk in—captain of the cheerleading squad, with your tiny skirt and sparkly eyelids, jeongin almost expects you to laugh at him and his pathetic seating arrangement—all alone. but then, checking to see if anyone’s watching, you pull a book from the shelf, and begin to read it. that's how it started—now, every day during lunch, you come and read your book, safe in the shadows, creating a home nobody else knew about. what is he going to do when he starts falling for you, through the notes he slips into your book after you leave? And what will happen when the wrong girl comes in and tries to take the book? (coming to your shelves soon...)

a special thank you to @jeonginsleftcheek who helped me flesh out all these ideas. I couldn't do any of this without you!! I hope you like these stories <33

#stray kids x reader #stray kids #skz x reader #skz #felix x reader #lee felix x reader #bangchan x reader #hyunjin x reader #stray kids x y/n #lee know x reader #changbin x reader #han jisung x reader #seungmin x reader #jeongin x reader #stray kids fanfiction #stray kids oneshot #stray kids blurb

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fanficsformyfaves · 9 hours ago

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Agatha Harkness x Fem Witch!Reader

WARNING: ANGST, SMUT 18+, Mentions Abandonment, Mentions of Violence, Mentions Of Death, Panic Attack, Hickeys, Fingering (R Receiving), Oral (R Receiving)

PREFACE: Reader and Agatha met during the 1920's in New Orleans, when Agatha had to move once again as to not arouse suspicion for not aging. They were together for years, but one night, everything changed and Agatha leaves. A century later, she finds Reader again and convinces her to walk down the Witch's Road alongside her and her new coven

A/N: Flashbacks In Italics!

Letter In Purple And Italics!

ONE THING I'MMA DO...IS NOT CRASH THE FUCK OUT AFTER WRITING THIS (I'm reminding myself)

After narrowly escaping Alice's trial and making sure Teen was okay, gathered and started a campfire to brace the cold winter night, before resuming our journey down the road.

"(Y/N)", called out, as I turned to face her.

"Why don't you show us your battle scars?"

I take a quick glance around the group and shrug, thinking 'why not?'.

I pull up my shirt and show them the scar on my stomach, taking notice of the way Agatha's eyes lingered on my exposed skin.

"Bar fight with some random chick who thought I was looking at her boyfriend", I scoff.

"Damn", Alice muttered.

"Yeah, she took a bottle and broke it off on the table and...well. I'm pretty sure you guys can guess how that ended", I say, rearranging my blouse.

"Like I swung that way", I added, watching the ladies turn to each other chuckling.

Just then, Agatha pipes up.

"I have a scar"

"Yeah, the one on your arm", Lilia pointed out.

"Not just that one", she interjected, shaking her head.

I narrow my gaze, looking down at her. More than a hundred years later and I still remembered every inch of her body from the top of her head to the bottom of her feet. If my memories served me right, that was the only scar she had.

"A long time ago...I loved someone", she began.

My heart sunk slightly, realizing who she was talking about.

"And I had to something I did not want to do...even if I had no other choice"

That was bullshit and she knew it. She did have a choice and she chose to be a coward.

"And it hurt them", she added.

Back in nineteen-twenty, the start of the Roaring Twenties era, Agatha and I met, when she walked into the speakeasy I was performing at. I was singing my final song of the evening and I spot her sizing me up from the front row. Of course, I grew bashful at the attention, but remained committed to finishing my set.

Once I was done, I take a bow, expressing my gratitude for the crowd's enthusiasm.

"You've been lovely this evening, I'm (Y/F/N), goodnight!", I bid farewell, as the room erupted with applause.

I get back to my dressing room and change into a more comfortable dress, before making my way to the bar.

"You did great, kid", the barkeep praised, handing me my usual.

"Thanks, Rusty", I say, taking the martini.

"Dirty", I hear a voice say behind me, causing me to look over my shoulder.

It was the woman from earlier.

"Pardon?", I say, narrowing my eyes.

"The drink?", she said, smirking.

I look back at my drink and that's when I realized what she was referring to.

"Oh!"

She chuckles, taking the seat beside me.

"You've got quite the voice", she complimented, bringing a pinkish hue to my cheeks.

"Thank you", I replied, avoiding her piercing gaze.

I could sense a certain air about her that intrigued me. I just couldn't put my finger on it.

"The name's Agatha Harkness", she introduced, extending a hand.

Harkness....why did that name sound so familiar?

"(Y/N)", I said, offering mine, lazily bent at the wrist.

She takes it and runs her thumb over my knuckles, causing my breath to hitch over so slightly. I couldn't help but bend to my curiosity's will.

"You said your last name was...Harkness?"

"Yeah, sound familiar?", she asked.

I had to be careful. I couldn't risk exposing the fact that I was a witch to the wrong person.

"I believe so. It might sound silly, but a long time ago, I had family that migrated out of Salem"

Her brows raise and she looks me up and down again, releasing my hand.

"Or at least that's what my mother told me. Any who, she had this book of our family's history and I think I might've seen that last name somewhere"

"Is that so?", she questioned.

Her voice sultry and soft.

"I told you it was silly"

"Not at all", she disagreed.

She takes a quick glance around the room, before subtly nodding at a waiter serving drinks.

"Watch him right there"

I do as she says and in that moment, the waiter's eyes glow a brilliant shade of purple, before he drops the tray.

My hand goes over my mouth in shock, as she let out a snort of laughter.

"You're a witch", I whispered just loud enough for her to hear.

"Yes and I know you are one too", she says, looking over at me.

I couldn't help but grin in excitement. Not only had it been years since I'd even seen another witch, but I was actually speaking to one.

"Wanna blow this joint?", she questioned, offering her hand once more.

And since that night, we'd become inseparable, spending every waking moment together. If we weren't out and up to mischief, we were on each other like fever on skin. Not a day would go by before she replaced one fading love-bite with a fresh one.

"Just so people know you're happily spoken for", she exhaled against my neck.

I was sure I'd finally met the person I was meant to be with. The twin flame that reignited the parts of me that I thought were gone for good...which only made it hurt all the more, when that fateful night came.

We were walking home through the quiet empty streets, after one of my gigs.

"Hey", she leaned in to whisper.

"Keep the corset on tonight", she said, making me chuckle to myself.

"You are insatiable"

"Can you blame me?", she sarcastically quipped.

Just then, women in cloaks began to emerge from the shadows. Sensing potential danger, Agatha immediately shields me behind her.

"Can we help you?", Agatha questioned.

"Traitor", they hissed, before the head of the group stepped forward.

"Agatha Harkness", she called out.

"You are found guilty of the murder of your coven"

My stomach drops, hearing the accusation.

"Agatha, what is she talking about?"

"Don't worry about it, sweetness", she reassured, not taking her eyes off of the seven women before us.

"Seize her!", the head ordered.

I use my powers in an attempt to knock them back, only for her to ricochet my spell and heating me right in the stomach, causing me to double over in pain.

"No!", Agatha exclaimed, before facing them once more.

They all began reciting an incantation and a beam of blue struck Agatha, causing her to groan out.

"Agatha!", I say, trying to get back up to help.

"Don't!", she yelled, holding out a hand to keep me where I was.

Just then, the stream of blue magic turned purple and within seconds, the woman began to age rapidly and grow weak. My brows knit in confusion, as I tried to process what was happening.

Eventually, they all dropped to the ground one by one, leaving Agatha in a stand off with the head of the group.

"You...were born...evil!", she struggled, before following the other women's fates with a harsh thud.

Agatha dusts herself off, rushing back to me.

"Are you okay?", she whispered, cupping my face.

"Yeah", I exhaled.

Whether or not I was honest about how I was feeling, I didn't want to burden her more than I knew she already was.

The walk home was silent, but not the kind of silence that brought comfort or peace. It was tense and daunting. I had so many questions, but knew it wasn't the right time. Even as we got to my apartment and slipped into bed, my mind raced. Who were those women? Why did accuse Agatha of such a horrible thing? Most importantly....were they telling the truth?

"I'm so sorry", Agatha muttered, holding me closer against her.

Her voice giving away that she was on the brink of tears.

"Why?", I say, turning to face her.

"That you got caught up in all of this"

I sigh through my nose, wiping the tears from her cheeks.

"You would've done it for me"

Her face crinkles in agony.

"Let's just get some sleep. You can explain everything in the morning", I reassured, pressing a deep kiss to her lips.

She nods, pulling my head into her chest.

But when that morning came, my eyes fluttered open to a cold empty side. Panicked, I got up and immediately went looking for her, afraid more of those women came back in the dead of night. But when I reach the living room and find a note on the table, my heart met the floor with a smack.

My dearest (Y/N),

Meeting you was single-handedly the best part of the life I was given. You've shown me kindness, patience and a love I could never forget. I didn't think I was capable or even worthy of that kind of love, but you came in like a whirlwind and turned my whole word upside down.

And as much pain as it brings me to say this, that is also the reason why I had to leave. To ensure that I'd never bring harm to you ever again. Where I go, trouble follows and you deserve better than to live your life in fear simply because of me. I love you far too much to allow you to do that to yourself.

Sincerely,

A.Harkness

I collapse to the floor in tears, sobbing and struggling to breathe.

She was gone. Just like that. It felt like a part of me, the part that was only ever hers, was ripped away from my grasp. Years pass, people grow old and die and there I was, haunted by the one that got away.

"She is my scar"

Her eyes meet mine and the moment they did, I could feel my eyes begin to tear up and my throat start to tighten. Not wanting the group to see me upset, I got up.

"I'm gonna take a walk", I announced, trying hard to hide the tears threatening to spill.

I walk a good distance away, whilst breathing in to keep the tears from escaping. Agatha takes a deep breath, going to follow me, when Lilia grabs her by the wrist.

"She needs time", she reminded.

Agatha scoffs and rips her arm away. She eventually finds me at the top of the hill, overlooking the rest of the road. Her hand gently meets the small of my waist and that was all it took for my tears to escape.

"Don't", I say, shrugging away from her touch and turning to face her.

"Don't", I repeated, shaking my head.

"(Y/N)-"

"I don't wanna hear it. I'm only here cause Teen asked for my help", I struggled through my fading unbothered-facade.

She sighs, bowing her head.

"You're hurt", she muttered.

"Like you care"

"Don't say that. I do care"

I scoff, wiping my tears.

"That's rich coming from you. The same person who dragged Sharon into this, knowing she wouldn't survive"

"I did what I had to-"

"Stop saying that!", I cried out, causing Agatha to be taken aback.

My face scrunches up in agony, as I clutched my chest. Each breath was getting harder and harder to find.

"You...You", I broke out into sobs and Agatha rushes to sit me down.

"Is it a panic attack?", she questioned, hastily.

I try to get her away from her, but to no avail. No words would come out and all I could do was pathetically wail in her arms. All the feelings I managed to bury were all hitting me at once and there was now way of stopping them.

She takes my back against her chest, rubbing up and down my arms in an attempt to ground me.

"Count the trees. Count the stars", she ordered.

I look around and in my haze, I could make out the six surrounding trees and about a dozen solemn stars spread out across the sky.

"How many?"

"Mmm", I shake my head, fighting to find the words.

"How many, (Y/N)?", she repeated, firmer.

"Six...thirteen", I take in a shaky breath between the numbers.

"Good....good. Follow my breathing", she whispered, brushing my hair back away from my face.

We take a deep inhale, hold it for a few seconds and let it out. She repeated this till I was calm again to sit up on my own.

"That's it", she muttered softly.

She still remembered how to ease my anxiety, something I was sure she'd forgotten how to do. We sat in the tense silence for a minute, before I finally found the courage to speak again.

"Why did you come back for me? And don't say it's because of the road"

She looks down at her lap, hesitantly.

"I wanted to see you again"

It was now my turn to avert my gaze.

"What? Do you think I'm lying?"

"Well, that's kind of what you're known for-"

"Not to you", she cuts off, taking my hand and causing me to turn back to her.

"I knew you could handle it and survive, yes...but I had to know you were okay"

I stilled, contemplating whether I should take my hand away, but seemingly unable to do so.

"I couldn't stop thinking about you. How you were, what you were doing, who you were with, if you were still alive. The not-knowing drove me crazy, but it didn't matter...cause I knew keeping you safe was more important. I was a walking target and I couldn't risk getting you caught in the cross-fire", her words faltering, as her eyes began to brim with tears.

"It scared me too much", she admitted, hanging her head in shame, as tear after tear hit the ground.

"So I left...because it was easier to lose you by choice"

Her words shattered the parts of me I had just finally put back together.

"I still loved you...even after what happened", my voice reduced to nothing but whispered sobs.

"Even after you left...even now"

She turns to face me with a look of surprise.

"And I hate it", I whisper to myself, as my eyes fell shut.

She carefully cradles my face with shaky hands and my eyes reunite with hers once again.

"You have every right to", her voice stern, yet gentle.

"You needed me and I bailed. That was on me...but I need you to understand where I was coming from. If you were in my place, what would you have done? Would you have dragged me along, even if it meant putting me in danger?", she questioned.

I had no answer. I thought long and hard, but eventually came up short.

"What I did hurt you, I'm not denying that, but it was for the best. I would've never forgiven myself if...", her voice trembled.

I was stumped. Thinking about if I was in her place opened my eyes. Maybe she was right.

"If I let anything happen to you", she whimpered, sniffling.

Her eyes of ocean blue bore into mine with a sense of desperation.

"Please...I am so so sorry", she choked, sliding onto her knees and burying her face into my lap.

I take in a shuddering breath, gripping her shoulders to pull her back. I cup the sides of her face, as her eyes pleaded me not to let go.

"I love you", she muttered.

I could no longer fight it. The years of grief and solitude had finally caught up to me and before I knew it, my lips met hers in a heated exchange.

She pulls me atop of her by my waist to straddle her thighs and my fingers tangle into the roots of her hair. She then turns us over to gently lay me down against the fallen flower petals. Her lips stray from mine to my cheek and down my neck to leave a fresh bruise on my skin. I hiss, feeling her teeth graze against it, as her hands tightened like vice around my waist.

Finally, she pulls away only slightly to bunch up my skirt to reveal my lower half. Looking at me once more to ask for permission to proceed, I nod breathlessly. She spreads my legs apart, pulling my underwear to the side and wasting no time to lick up my slickness. I moan out, grasping at the roots of her hair.

"God, I missed you", she mumbled, dragging the tips of her fingers up and down my entrance.

"I missed you", I emphasized through my pants.

She hummed against my sensitive bundle of nerves, sending vibrations through it. I had almost forgotten just how good she used to make me feel. With a gentle motion, she slips two fingers into me, as I cried out her name.

"Agatha!"

"I know, baby", she reassured, stroking my outer thigh with her free hand, as she continued to devour me.

With each stroke of her fingers, she coaxed me closer and closer to my climax.

"Oh god!", I whined, bringing a smirk to her lips.

"That's it, my love", she encouraged, as she quickened her pace.

She knew just what to do to drive me up the wall and she relished in that fact, for no one else could make me feel the way she did.

"You taste so good", she praised.

I felt myself beginning to pulse around her, bringing a red hue to my cheeks from how embarrassingly fast she managed to get me to my peak.

"I feel you, baby. Do it...give it to me", she demanded, ramming directly into my g-spot.

I was then thrusted over the edge , as my vision faded to black from the overwhelming pleasure. After she was finished licking up the mess I made and helping me ride out my high, she crawled back up to share the taste of me with a desperate kiss.

"Do you taste yourself?" I nod, continuing to move my lips against hers.

Once I stilled, she rolls over and pulls me atop her chest, basking in the sweet afterglow.

"I'd say that was successful reunion", she teased, earning a scoff from me.

#agatha harkness #agatha all along #agatha harkness x reader #agatha harkness oneshot #agatha harkness fanfic #agatha harkness fluff #agatha harkness angst #agatha harkness smut #kathryn hahn

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lieslab · 1 day ago

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Broken hearts club

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

Pairing: Bang Chan X gn reader

Summary: Unexpectedly, you find yourself face-to-face with the leader of a gang, but you'd never imagine how your relationship would end.

Genre: Angst with no happy ending

Word Count: 3.8K

Trigger warning: Mentions of homelessness and insecurities/struggles surrounding it, fear of love, gun violence, casual crime, and murder.

A/N: I'm going to tell you now that if you struggle with feeling unlovable, you might want to skip this one. I have big feelings and this was like an hour long vent write for me. Please remember that it's fiction and this Chan does not exist (thank fuck)

_ _ _

It was like the home you never had. Two years ago, Bang Chan found you filthy and half-dazed in an alleyway. You were just trying to survive on the streets. Life isn’t kind to the homeless. When your dignity is stripped as you dive into dumpsters for food, you start to feel less like a human and more like a testing specimen.

The world kept spinning, families enjoyed their time indoors, but not you. You were left out in the cold like an abandoned dog. Without a house, without a home, without a family, and without love. The world conspired against you, it always had, and you were certain it’d be this way until the end of time.

Your clothes hadn’t been washed in days. You were one quarter short from being able to wash your clothes at the laundromat. You had enough to dry them, but washing them cost a whole quarter more; just another cruel way that the world laughed at you. The stench that radiated off you was a mixture between sour milk and sweaty socks.

You used to have an extra pair of socks to warm your hands. They were stolen by another homeless person when your back was turned. You thought the two of you were friends, but you forgot that when people are where you are, it’s survival of the fittest. Not everyone is genuine when you hit rock bottom. Humans will do what they can to survive.

You pulled the socks from your feet and used them to warm your hands. They hadn’t been washed and they were soaked in your old sweat and skin cells, but desperate times called for desperate measures. When you kicked off your shoes for a moment of rest, the scent of decay filled the air.

On that night, your body was burning up at the slightest touch. The Texas heat had nothing compared to what your body was going through. The weather was chillier, your cheeks were red from bitter winds, your nose was frozen to the touch, but your body was on fire.

A fever engulfed you and there was nothing you could do besides ride it out. Pharmacies didn’t care if you were homeless. Corporate greed had no compassion for the starving and the crippled. If you couldn’t afford to wash your clothes, you certainly couldn’t afford a bottle of cheap over-the-counter medicine.

You didn’t mean to stumble into Chan that night. You were certain you were going to die. Actually, you craved the sweet release of death. Without deodorant, you could smell yourself. Your hair had been saturated with grease for two days.

Every part of you felt filthy and worn. You felt disgusting and awful. You knew you needed to shower, but you were so delirious, you couldn’t even distinguish left from right. The gym was on the opposite side of town, your head was heavy, and your legs were on fire. Trying to make it would be a certain death wish. So, you stumbled forward instead.

Chan was supposed to be keeping an eye out for some guy he had been watching. His gang was well-known around town. They ran the streets and were on top of everything. Cops stayed silent about their crimes. Chan’s group was a bunch of vigilantes, they played both sides.

As long as the cops could run traffic stops and do the most of their jobs without concern, Chan and his heathens were let off the hook. All it took was one call and they’d be off into the dead of night again; disappearing into the sound of faint sirens, barking dogs, and the orange warmth beneath streetlights.

You didn’t have a choice when you stumbled into Chan. It was merely an accident, but his reflexes were fast. His gun swung and before you knew it, you were pistol whipped. The cold metal felt glorious for a moment and then you free fell. Unforgiving concrete, blurred vision, and the incriminating stare of a stranger above. God’s abandonment tasted like salted sweat and iron.

Blood oozed from the gash in your forehead. Chan didn’t have time to ask your name or gather any identifying details. Your eyes rolled back into your head and that was that. Sounds stopped, the earth kept spinning, and your soul was silenced.

You expected the devil to greet you when you woke up, instead you were met by a man wearing a pleather jacket. Black eyeliner rimmed beneath his eyes and an eyebrow piercing sat above his left eyebrow. A stern gaze, messy black hair, and a death sentence.

You were sure this was the grim reaper. He looked like heaven and hell combined. Along his cheek, a scar had healed, but the spot where stitches stretched skin together hadn’t. If you narrowed your eyes, you could still make out the exact spot where each stitch stretched honey-soaked skin together.

Your fear tapered out the moment he handed a water bottle in your direction. The plastic sides dripped with condensation. It cooled your overheating body the moment you took it. Maybe this wasn’t your enemy, but your long-lost savior instead.

He was too serious. Too serious all the time and you hated him for it. You grew to love him and his seven other goons. He was good at what he did. Always directing, always pushing and pulling, always carrying the gang. Dealing with enemy antics while fighting the stupidity and occasional incognitiveness forged in his own group.

They weren’t perfect, they had their issues, but they had Chan. They had a leader and a fighter. A whirlwind of chaos, power, and strict determination. They had a lot of things as a group, but they didn’t have you. You fit right in once your fever broke.

Your quick banter, sarcasm, and wit gave them a reality check. Even the best witted ones were out-smarted by you. After a shower, some new clothes, and a full meal, you felt like a person again. Chan and his crew became your family, but families don’t always stay together.

~ ~

“What the hell is this?” A manila folder flung your way. It landed on the table in front of you with a harsh thud. You had been studying the layout of a mansion for the next mission when you felt the first fissure.

Chan’s words pulled you from your planning and you glanced up at him. “What is this?” You pushed open the folder to find a thick stack of papers.

“That’s what I want you to tell me.”

You didn’t like the accusatory tone in his voice. Laced with venom, he was a copperhead waiting to strike. Every hair on the back of your neck stood up. Something was wrong, but you couldn’t place it just yet.

Paper after paper you flipped through. Photocopies of text messages, emails from your email address, and photos of security camera footage of you with different people. They weren't just anyone, they were rival gang members. Rival gang members were strictly off limits. Any act of breaching Chan’s gang’s trust was an act of treason. If you wanted to sign your own death sentence, it was the perfect way to go.

“I’m only going to ask you one more time.” His arms folded across his chest. “What the hell are these?”

“Photocopies and security camera footage.”

His nostrils flared and his eyes rolled. He stepped forward and tipped over you. The scent of some unknown spicy cologne with hints of vanilla and amber hit you. His hand smacked the wooden table, beneath it was a photo of you in a hoodie. A rival member stood across the way staring at you. He was identified by the obvious dark tattoo on his forearm.

“You know there’s a rat.”

Of course, you did. Someone had been leaking plans to someone. Information oozed out and missions were compromised. Compromised missions meant distrust and disorganization. How easy it was for a gang to slip up and have a member go missing, get injured, or be killed.

It hurt like hell, his words, the way he said them with no mercy. That fever of yours was two years ago. Two years of learning his ways and what made him tick. The way he touched his ear when nervous. The constant bouncing of his leg as he spoke about new missions; the proof that he was eager to get started. You swore you knew everything about him, but he couldn’t say the same about you.

He hesitated bringing you in. His gang was perfect, but he remembered how cruel the world could be. He saw the defeat in your eyes. The way you strolled along the side of abandoned factories and drug yourself along, trying to get just another step. He pitied you back then and clearly, it was all just a stupid mistake.

“I know what this looks like, but I swear to God, this isn’t what it seems. This-” You picked up a photo of you and a different rival gang member. “This isn’t me. I mean, it is, but it’s not. You really think I’d rat you out?”

“Well, it’s someone!” He snapped angrily. “It’s someone and look at this shit!” His arms waved in distress. “It’s clearly you!”

“They have to be fake. I’d know if I was a rat. Listen,” you pushed yourself from the stool you sat upon, “I’ll prove it. These emails and texts, they can be disproven. Stay here and I’ll be right back.”

You rushed out of the room before he could stop you. You had holed yourself in the small study. You always did that when you were studying for a mission. It was quiet and you liked to sink into that oversized leather chair beneath the books.

The scent of weathered paper and worn leather. You sat there so much, the leather creased from where it had been worn. The secrets of the shelves watched over you. The lamp on the window beside you had been thrifted before you were a member. Despite that, you were the one who always used it the most.

You came back with your laptop and your phone. You placed them on the oak desk and unlocked them. Your hands gestured to the objects. “Go ahead and look at them, you won’t find anything.”

He stared at you, but you were adamant. “Come on,” you waved him closer. “Go ahead and look.”

With a sigh, he dropped himself on the stool you had been sitting on. Blueprints were meticulous and you liked to keep your stuff straight. When you weren’t in that leather chair, you were on this stool studying things out and trying to make puzzle pieces fit together.

Tension kept brewing and your stomach churned. You weren’t the rat, you knew that, but Chan didn’t. You’d never have it in you to turn your back on this group. This was the family you never had. The love you always craved, it had been found here. Within the past two years, you felt enough love to last a lifetime.

You flipped through the papers. The text messages were fake and someone was good at impersonating you. From the text messages to the emojis, it was all spot on. The more you dove into the photos, the more you doubted yourself. There weren't any mistakes anywhere. Even the photos of you with rival members were photoshopped together seamlessly. Whoever did this, they were good. Better than good, they were damn great.

The sound of your laptop shutting pulled your head up. Your eyes met Chan’s with desperation, but his dark eyes gave away nothing. He still looked the way he did two years ago, so broadening and mysterious.

The only difference? You now knew the man behind the persona. You knew how he loved without him saying it. It was the way he passed food to you first and let you eat before him. It was hidden in the reminders he gave the members to buckle their seatbelts. It was found in the way he reassuringly checked for fevers, when members were sick, by gently using the back of his hand; the same exact way he checked yours two years ago.

“Did you forget that text messages and emails can easily be erased?”

“But why would I rat you out? The group? Why would I go against everything I love?”

He scoffed and shook his head. You stepped closer to him. “Please, you have to believe me! Chan, I don’t even know these people!”

“How did they get your email?”

“I-I-” You stuttered trying to find the words. “I don’t know!”

“Because you’re the rat. You gave out your email and yo-”

“Stop saying that! I know how bad this looks, okay? I understand it!” You desperately flipped through the papers trying to find one small mistake to prove your innocence. “You have to believe that this isn’t me. Please, Chan, please.”

“How am I supposed to do that?”

“Because you trust me.”

“I used to trust you.”

It was so much worse than the betrayal of the homeless lady you befriended. You asked her to watch your stuff and she took off with your socks. You had been working up a friendship for two weeks and you disappeared into a store to use the restroom. When you came back she was gone.

You only knew her for two weeks, but how different two weeks was from two years. Two years of building up your own grit and determination. Building up a foundation of a body, fighting for the muscle you lost when starving on the streets, gaining back your dignity when the world ripped it away.

“Don’t say that,” your voice cracked. You blinked rapidly, trying to hold back your tears. “You do, you trust me. You trust me because I’m one of your members.”

His gaze went back to the papers strewn along the desk behind you. He’d never show you how he truly felt. Deep down, he was devastated. He wanted to scream and grip you. He wanted to tug you into his grasp. He wanted to show you the love and admiration that he had neglected giving you these past two years, but instead he stood still, the evidence was too damning.

“Prove to me you’re innocent,” he finally uttered. His heart fluttered with hope. A silent prayer was recounted from years ago. The memories of pews and biblical artifacts were dusty, but it was there. A basic prayer from Sunday School, one that was easy enough to remember, a five year old could quote it.

“I don’t know how. I-I showed you my electronics, those are the only ones I own. I don’t know what more you could possibly want from me. You can search my room. You can do anything, just please, please, please believe me.”

You didn’t want to admit it, but this was no longer a matter of Chan’s integrity and the gang’s security. This was a matter of life and death. You were no longer fighting for your innocence, you were fighting sudden death.

He made the rules so crystal clear two years ago. A major fuck up and you were gone. Something so quick and easy, a bullet to the forehead. Brains pulverized, neurons ripped apart, the soul slipped away so easily. A single gunshot stood between traitors; a one way ticket from this life into the next.

“Prove it,” he tried again. He wanted you to beg. To get down on your knees and weep. To repent for your sins and admit it all. He would find a way to forgive you, no matter how much the truth hurt, but you didn’t.

You couldn’t. How could you? How could you possibly explain that none of this was real? The screenshots, the security footage, someone clearly wanted you gone. You didn’t understand why Chan believed it so easily, maybe he was the one who wanted you gone. Why wasn’t he fighting for you?

“Chan?” You finally whispered. The reality of your situation was settling in. He never responded, but you spoke anyway. “Can you just…can you tell the guys that I love them?”

Betrayal clamped down. It was a confession in his eyes. The sting of a bee, the teeth of a cobra, a shot of gin mixed with rejection. After everything you had been through with the gang, he didn’t expect it to feel like this.

Those eyes used to hold warmth now and then. In the sunlight, they lit up like pools of chocolate. You saw those eyes at bonfires during the summer. It was the oozing chocolate between roasted marshmallows and graham crackers. You saw them in the dirt smeared along your jeans after you ducked, dived, and dodged your way through each dangerous mission.

It was a rarity, but it was special, your own personal Halley’s Comet. It was replaced with resentment and bitterness now. An anger had been uncapped and no matter what you professed and claimed, it couldn’t stop it.

“That’s all you have to say after everything we’ve been through?” His hand reached back behind his back. You knew what was coming. “You wanna die? I’ll fucking kill you myself!”

That black pistol was always loaded. His reflexes had been quick since you knew him. It was the same pistol that knocked you out two years back. You never had a chance to dive then and you never had a chance now.

“Fuck you and fuck your love! You’re nothing, but a liar and a goddamn traitor and yet, you want me to lie to them? To tell them you loved them after you put them in danger? You put us all in danger!”

“I-” You couldn’t get the words out. They lodged in your throat and you didn’t know how to force them out. You didn’t want it to end up like this.

“Fuck you, your love, and everything about you! Die knowing that no one will ever fucking love you and you’re dead to me.”

Bang!

The memories of the past two years flashed before your eyes. The fear building up in your gut on each harrowing mission you went on. The board games you played around the dining room table. They used to end with someone getting mad and throwing the board. You all collapsed in a heap of laughter at the pettiest members. It changed every time.

You used to find comfort within Chan. Every time you struggled, you’d find him and explain your problems. He wouldn’t offer hugs or sympathy, but he leant a listening ear. He wouldn’t pity you, he’d just listen. Sometimes you never wanted advice, you just wanted proof that you weren’t alone, a gentle and familiar reminder that you were loved.

Your body fell through the air and your brain stopped, but not in the way you wanted it to. Chan’s back turned to you, you didn’t realize it, you couldn’t. Not when you were like this.

The carpet was as hard and unforgiving as the pavement was two years ago. Warmth soaked your chest and you could still see. You tried to breathe, but there was no air left to take. In his fit of anger, Chan didn’t shoot you in the head, but he hit your heart instead.

The bullet lined directly with the center of your heart and his bullets never missed their target. One more cruel reminder from the world that you were unlovable. People didn’t throw pity when you were surviving on the street, instead, it was accusing glares, as if you were nothing, but a pesky vermin.

It was your biggest insecurity, feeling unloved. How could you after everything that happened in your life? No family and no friends. The only family you had was this gang and now it was all unraveling and slipping through your fingers. It was falling apart and it left you bleeding on the floor.

A gasp mixed with a squeak. Chan’s eyes squeezed shut. His fingers were still wrapped around the gun. He didn’t dare turn around to face you and admit what he did. He couldn’t. Deep down, he loved you. You flickered a spark that he thought died out years ago.

He was never one for being a coward, but something changed. You startled him and woke up something that was supposed to lay dead. The feelings for you weren’t supposed to wither and squirm this much. Rat or not, maybe it was just easier to accuse you of something and kill you before a flicker grew into a roaring flame.

Letting you in was a mistake. Building up a friendship, striking up feelings of something more, it was a pile of kindle that was always meant to burn. He’d always be a monster and you were just a person. Too innocent, too vulnerable, too sweet for someone with his past.

Your vision clouded as a tear slipped down your cheek. The person you loved most put you here, but you still couldn’t hate him. In fact, maybe you were grateful deep down. You were a bird with a broken wing and never meant to fly. It was better that an animal got to you rather than wither and rot away in the elements.

The door to the study burst opened. One of the guys rushed inside. You heard him speak, but you couldn’t distinguish who it was. Blood was seeping out so quick and you were growing weaker.

“What the hell did you do?”

“What the fuck?”

“Someone help them!”

Footsteps rushed towards you. Warm hands touched your chest, but it was too late. Your limbs were weak. They never got to see the last bits of light fade from your eyes. They fluttered shut just before the door burst open.

“Wake up! Just wake up! Please”

“Call the doctor!”

“What did you do? What did you do? What did you do?”

Someone sobbed. Salted tears mixed with the blood on your shirt. Desperate fingers pushed down to stop the bleeding, but it’d never be enough. Love surrounded you, but you didn’t get to see it for the last time, before your heart stopped.

Across the way, Chan’s bottom lip quivered. He dropped the gun and it landed with a clatter. Despite the sob that fell from the leader’s chest, they couldn’t find it within themselves to approach him. He collapsed in defeat and curled his hands around his head. The one person he truly loved and cherished, he took them out himself. Your blood on his hands would never be washed away. He thought it’d be easy to take you out, but now, his members would never look at him the same way.

Eight hearts around the room beating and the final one still bleeding.

| ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ |

Taglist: @lina-linny @straykidsstanforeverandever @seungnishi @stellasays45

Masterlist

Taglist and inbox rules

#stray kids #stray kids fanfic #stray kids drabbles #skz fanfic #stay #bang chan #bang chan angst #bang chan fanfic #bang chan x reader #bang chan x you #bang chan x y/n #skz chan x reader #skz mafia #skz

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lovebittenbyevans · 2 days ago

Text

Behind The Curtain | Part 1

Summary: When you and Toji thought you both finally went your separated ways but it turns out not everything is all that it seems to be when you both can’t escape the one thing you wanted for so long – Divorce. As Toji tries to get back into the spotlight you both began to wonder if this was ever real between you two or fake

Pairing: Actor/Ex-Husband! Toji Fushiguro x Female Reader

Warnings: cursed words

Author note: This will be a short series.

Part 1

Seeing him again you did not know what to think of it. You forgot how fast a year can go by quickly but you would always remember how he looked. You picture him in your head so many times but eventually you know this isn’t what it used to be.

You clear your throat as you pull out the chair to sit across from him. “Toji.” It was eight o’clock at night and you were in the mood for something warm to drink.

Toji takes a sip of his coffee and leans forward in his chair a bit. “Thank you for meeting me, babygirl.” You notice he had on a hat that says ‘better yourself’ while wearing trimmed black sunglasses along with a white shirt and blue denim jeans.

“Toji, cut to the chase.” You tell him seriously. You don’t have time to hear his fake sobbing stories this time and excuse.

He trailed off. “Always straight to the fucking point, huh?” He reached inside his red jacket pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. “Remember how we finally got divorced from each other and my lawyer helped us out?”

You rolled your eyes and huffed. “Yeah, why? Your lawyer finally admitted she is a scammer and a piece of shit.”

“Well…” Toji exhaled loudly as he unfolded the paper and slid it towards you. “Apparently we are still married to each other.”

You took the paper and looked at it for a moment. “What?” You carefully read what was written on the paper.

11/4/23 –Toji Fushiguro and Y/N Fushiguro are still happily married

Your eyes slowly looked at him. “What the fuck!?” You scoff, shaking your head.

He lowered his hat down as his eyes were on you. “I know, look, I feel the same way you do.”

“You better get a fucking good lawyer this time and fixed this!” You raised your voice a little.

He leans back against his seat. “I know but we have another problem.” You didn’t want to hear those few words at all.

Before you open your mouth to talk, your phone vibrates against your jeans pocket. “That's definitely important.” He said.

You take your phone inside your green jeans pocket and check to see what showed up on your screen.

Actor! Toji Fushiguro and Y/N Fushiguro are happily married a year ago

Your eyes widened immediately when you saw the headlines. You seriously wanted to vomit and crawl into a hole.

Fuck!

“How? W–What?” You were speechless and shocked at the same time.

Toji took one last sip of his drink and said. “It was too late before I could call my publicist to ask them to get rid of the story.”

Your mind had too many thoughts right now. That bastard lawyer for not filing the papers correctly. You wanted to scream loudly but you already knew it was not going to make your problem go away.

“Too late?” You raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure about that?” A part of you didn’t believe him one bit.

He took off his black shade sunglasses and pushed his chair back. “Look, I know you don’t believe anything I tell you anymore but I’m telling you the truth.”

You scoffed. “How long do we have to wait this time to finally go our separate ways.”

“Um, well…” He rubs his chin while looking at you. “She thinks this might help my image. I have trouble staying out of scandals.”

You shot him a look. “Excuse me? Are you–Sharon is a fucking joke.” You got up from your chair and pushed it underneath the table. “That’s not my problem, you can’t control yourself T.”

You were ready to walk out the door when he grabs your wrist, forcing you to look at him. “Wait, how long are you going to be in London for?”

You glanced at his hand on your wrist before looking at him. “My flight leaves today like I told you over the phone.”

Toji took off his hat and ran his hand through his hair. “Stay.” His piercing dark blue eyes were fixated on you.

You let out a chuckle and pulled away from him. “Goodbye T.” You walked out of the coffee shop, struggling to keep a straight face.

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jellyskink · 2 days ago

Note

The Tooth And The Following Headache. (A cringey crackship)

"Alright Pines, you're good to go now. You remember where the exit is yeah?"

(Geez, the more I see this guy the MORE I find myself needin' to buy another pack of cold ones for the week.)

The day was about as fun as you'd expect it to be with "him" around. I was just about to have a good day too, of course things would go wrong as soon as I was about to relax and finish up work.

Ford Pines had his monthly appointment with me today, an appointment that I was booked with because of Oleander's meddling probably.

"Yes Dr.Ibis, I remember. H-How is everything looking if I may ask?"

(Horrible, if I was presented this during dental school I'd probably have thought it was the BEFORE photo, not AFTER.)

"Eh, I've seen worse. But you're doin' better than last time."

(That was a lie and a truth both in the correct order. Geez what HAS this freak been doing? The first time I saw him I was surprised he hadn't kicked the bucket or passed out at the very least from what problems he was dealing with. It was almost like I was checking off everything in the book on what was wrong with this guy. I mean, damn if I didn't know better I'd assume this guy was eating glass for fun or something.)

"R-really? Oh my Muse will be so pleased! The care you and Dr. Oleander have been providing me has been astronomically wonderful! My muse certainly knows how to find the best people to introduce me to!"

(Ugh, here we go again. "My muse" this, "my muse" that. I wish he'd can it about that damn triangle, the problems that kindergartner art project looking thing have been causing have been one of my biggest headache bringers to date.)

"Yep, he sure does. Now can we get along to the part where we just schedule your next appointment? I'm a very busy man you know, patients to see and all that."

"Of course! I'll need to run it by my Muse before it's finalized, but I can certainly get the word to him!"

"Sure thing bud."

(Thank god, this is going quicker than I thought. I really hate having this guy ruin the mood in my office with his... everything. What did Irene even see in this guy? This wacko clearly didn't have a personality besides being a sad clingy puppy dog whose entire being was dedicated to his "Muse".)

(Irene was pretty secretive about certain things regarding that guy whenever we ended up talking over the phone or the occasional coffee. Which for a normal doctor that'd be expected, patient confidentiality and all that. But Irene crossed that line long ago as soon as she took him on as one of her patients.)

(The guy wasn't extremely interesting to my knowledge outside of his extra fingers. If anything he was boring or weird, sometimes both at the same time. The guy wasn't particularly charming, he did LOOK handsome, and OCCASIONALLY wasn't the worst to be around, but geez I hated everything else about the guy.)

"Ah Dr.Ibis before I forget, I have something for you."

(OH GOD NOT THIS AGAIN.)

Before I even had a chance to react any further, Mr.Triangle lover quickly reached into his bag and pulled out something small with reddish-brown fur and held it out to me.

(What even is that? Is that a hamster? No, it was a vole. He brought me a freaking vole. It wasn't even alive. And he was holding it out to me with that stupid smile of his.)

I don't know what came over me, but the next thing I knew I slapped the dead rodent out of his six fingered hand. As it smacked the ground, I saw my patient flinch and begin to step back from me.

"GET YOUR DAMN ROADKILL AWAY FROM ME!"

"I-I'm sorry for upsetting you Dr.Ibis, I only wanted to-"

"What? I don't want to hear about how your "Muse" gave you dead rats as gifts again! It's disgusting! I can't stand dead animals! I don't want you to act like your dramn crazy mu-"

I wasn't even able to finish the sentence before I felt myself getting pushed against the wall with enough force to knock the wind out of me. I winced from the surprise as I began to process what happened.

It was that... that... Six fingered psycho!

(What the hell!? What is he doing??)

I was always kinda worried about this guy being the reason why someone ended up hurt, I never expected him to be the literal reason for it!

"DR. IBIS."

An unexpected tone shift from what I was used to from the guy, his voice was now booming and gruff.

(OKAY I'M REALLLY NOT USED TO HIM BEING SO LOUD OR AGGRESSIVE.)

"PLEASE... WATCH WHAT YOU SAY... ABOUT MY MUSE..." His tone lowered into a raspy hiss as the words fell from his mouth.

I really wanted to respond to him, to fight back, SOMETHING. And yet I found myself frozen with fear.

The next thing I know, I felt a rough, trembling hand tilt my head up. My field of vision focusing on the unhinged man in front of me.

"BAD THINGS... HAPPEN TO THOSE W-WHO UPSET HIM..."

(I-is he? Crying? What the hell?? Why is HE the one that's upset here? He was the one who flipped out on me!)

I didn't have much time to process everything as he moved away from me. I heard a loud crunch from the side of me as he did.

(THE HELL?? Did he break something??)

I glanced to the side of me instinctively, there was a hole in the hall next to me.

(Okkkaaay. Well it definitely wasn't the first time the office drywall got punched or broken. Whether that was ever by me at times was something that was a secret I wasn't going to tell any higher ups anytime soon.)

"Hey... Mr.Pines?"

"..."

The guy slowly walked over to the wall at the opposite side of the room, a blank stare on his face, a crimson fluid leaking from one hand onto the floor as he held it to his side, while his other hand clutched his creepy locket to his heart.

Before I could continue speaking, he began whisper to himself while facing the wall.

"i'msorryi'msorryi'msorryi'msorryi'msorryi'msorryi'msorryi'msorryi'msorryi'msorryi'msorryi'msorryi'msorryi'msorryi'msorryi'msorryi'msorryi'msorryi'msorryi'msorry."

His head banging against the wall with eerie tempo as he spoke in a whispered voice, his tone now monotone.

"Mr.Pines??"

(What the hell? I knew this guy was probably insane but this was taking it a whole new level!)

"I'MSORRYI'MSORRYI'MSORRYI'MSORRYI'MSORRYI'MSORRYI'MSORRYI'MSORRYI'MSORRYI'MSORRYI'MSORRYI'MSORRYI'MSORRYI'MSORRYI'MSORRYI'MSORRY."

The horrid tempo was now picking up speed.

"STANDFORD STOP IT!"

"..."

(He finally responded?)

The room was eerily silent as I tried to process what had even happened. After what felt like an eternity of sitting in awkward silence, the unhinged man I was watching turned around to face me again.

"U-um Dr.Ibis? Forgive me, I spaced out while we were about to finish our conversation earlier. W-what were we speaking about?"

A pretty nasty bruise was now starting to form on his forehead.

(THE HELL DO YOU MEAN WHAT WERE WE TALKING ABOUT??? WTF WAS THAT???)

I did my best to collect myself. I vaguely some of the info Oleander shared with me about her patient. I think she mentioned how he had certain traumatic triggers or something?? Damnit now I wish I had paid better attention to her phone call that day as she yammered on.

"It... wasn't important. Just...if you're going to leave me dead animals, do ya mind if perhaps you wrap them up before handing me them or something?"

"I-it isn't traditional I suppose, b-but I'll check in with my muse if I could be given grace to do that sort of thing. Forgive me, I don't mean to screw up showing my thanks to you..."

(Geez and now we're back to another episode of watching the saddest man ever. Ick, Oleander I swear you owe me big time for all these bones I'm throwing your patient.)

"Listen I appreciate it, in a way... I just prefer.... live animals? And I don't like rodents very much."

"I-I see... well I can't promise my muse will be happy with any changes, but I'll keep note of that."

"Listen Stan-"

"StanFORD."

"Stanford. Why don't we just pretend today didn't happen? I'm pretty tired today, and it looks like you could use some rest too."

"I... suppose my muse might not mind that. I don't think I can rest, but I know what you mean."

"Thank you Stanford. Now... why don't I drive you over to Oleander's office for a sec? I think she needed to see you for a second."

(Pleasedon'tputupafightohgodIdon'twantyoudyinginmyofficeIdon'twanttodealwiththepaperworkoranyotheraxhahstingproblemsthat'dcomefromthathappening!!)

"I-I suppose it wouldn't be too much trouble as long as we don't take TOO long. My muse seems to trust some of her judgement a lot..."

"Yeahh... well I'm just going to close up shop now.

"Of course Dr.Ibis."

(Irene I swear to god you owe me big time on top of a LONG conversation about what's the plan for your patient in the long term. If I'm going to be dragged along with you on your quest to be the queen of bleeding hearts I don't want to end up sinking with you.

Geez I need a drink after this, guess I'll be needing to buy TWO packs of cold ones from the store after this "fun" work day.)

Unfortunately for future me, one of the new "gifts" I'd start to get from Standford FREAKING Pines were eyebats. Live ones. And they were just as annoying as him. Easier to get rid of though...

(AHH I HAD SO MUCH FUN WRITING THIS. I thought I'd gve it a go with writing in a more first person style when it came to a Dr.Ibis focused fic.

Yes I was possessed by a 14 year old girl harnessessing wattpad, ao3, and tiktok as I wrote this, but the idea of these two having a genuine friendship/relationship sounds hilarious to me.

I hope you liked my attempts at channeling Yusuf energy! Unfortunately he does have the tsundere curse a bit because this is a enemies to lovers kind of fic lmaoo. Hopefully the Ford energy wasn't the worst either??

I totally loved your fic other anon fanfic writer! With Jellyskink's permission we should definitely team up and write many cringey and wonderful fanfictions for this au!

Speaking of which, I'm glad once again people liked my silly little Oleander and Calamari fic! The little trickster kitty is now one of my favorite things about the au!

I love that Calamari was in the cat show Ford lost in! I'm guessing she might've won?

Either way, totally looking forward to the rivalry between Ford and Calamari lmaooo!!)

OKAY I LOVE THIS

Ibis is like "why are the hot ones always crazy"

Thank you for writing for my sad dumpling again!!! 💖💖

#domesticated ford #fanfiction #ask fiction #ford pines #stanford pines #dr ibis #dr oleander #their chemistry is so nonexistent that even Ford can't study it #I'm not even sure ford realizes he's hurt #oleander please save this couple

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notreallythatlost · 16 hours ago

Text

FROM MY SOUL

pairing: halbrand/sauron x female!elf!reader

summary: you were betrayed by your great love sauron a long, long time ago. and when he returned, you want him to pay for what he did.

warnings: 18+, mdni, unprotected sex, jealous!sauron, handjob, oral (female receiving), p in v, rough sex, mentions of sub!sauron but switches to dom!sauron really fast (i couldn’t resist), blood licking, dark!reader

word count: 3k

note: i’m still alive at posting fics! 🙈 i think this is one of my personal favorites and i really hope you’ll like it too. xx also, i wanted to say thank you again, for all your support. it always encourages me so much. <33 and thanks to @sansaorgana for the gif inspiration, it hasn’t left my mind since then. 🤪

this fic is inspired by last night’s mascara by griff

THE RINGS OF POWER MASTERLIST

The air smelled musty as you entered the prison. But besides that disgusting stench, there was something else that caught your attention. A presence so powerful that it was impossible to resist.

“I'll be honest, when I first saw you here, I didn't want to believe it,” you said, the sound of your voice echoing off the walls. There was no reason to be secretive — after all, you were the only ones here.

“Sauron, the Dark Lord, has returned. And imagine, he is in Númenor. I wonder what he wants here?” you continued as you stopped in front of his cell. You knew how much he hated that name and yet you couldn’t stop yourself from saying it.

The man slowly sat up and kept his eyes on the floor in front of him. “You know exactly what I want here,” he said quietly and turned his head in your direction.

You could feel his gaze gliding over your body. Hot and full of desire. “Y/N, it's been a long time,” he continued, standing up to walk towards the bars and into the light of the torches.

Now you could see his face, which looked pretty scratched, he must have gotten into a fight with someone. “Do I want to know why you ended up in this cell?” you asked, raising an eyebrow slightly, which caused a smile on his lips.

“Dispute about a woman,” he said, leaning his arms against the bars, as you raised your eyebrows. “Don’t start…,” he murmured and his gaze fell down to your hand. “I see you haven't forgotten me. Or the things we did together,” he continued and you rolled your eyes. You hid your hand behind your back, and with it the ring on your finger.

“But that's not why you're here, am I right?” you asked, ignoring his words. “What brought you to Númenor?” With that, you stepped closer to him and looked him in the eyes, without any emotion.

There was a brief silence and only the faint rustling of the torches could be heard, then he began to speak. “To be honest, it was just a coincidence at first. But when I stepped onto this island and felt your presence, I knew that fate had brought me here. Back to the only woman who was ever able to love me. And maybe, after all these years, she is ready to stand by my side.”

In another time, his words might have triggered something in you, but now only an unimpressed laugh escaped your lips. “How long did it take you to rehearse that? A century?” you asked and Sauron frowned.

“Believe what you want,” he growled threateningly, his pride hurt by the slight undertone of mockery in your voice. “I’m only telling the truth.”

“Just as it is true that you betrayed me? Betrayed me at the moment when I needed you most? You knew what you were doing when you set the orcs on me out of fear that I might, one day, have more power than you could ever bear,” you spat out the words, but he didn't even blink.

“And yet you still wear that ring,” he noted, raising his hand as you raised yours in the same way. For a moment you stared at the silver band which shimmered in the light of the torches, remembering the moment he had put it on your finger.

It’s you and me against the world.

That was his promise. And he broke it with turning his back to you.

With a snort, you ripped your hand from his power. “I wear this ring to remind me of one thing. That I will never trust the words of a moron like you again.”

With that, you whirled around and left him behind, alone in the cell where he had brought himself into.

You would have loved to plunge your dagger into his chest, but you would have to wait. And patience was a virtue, after all.

The wine tingled as it ran down your throat and you sighed softly. It felt good and distracted you from the fact that your lover was on this island with you. That he was still alive, even though you had thought him dead for so long.

“You look like you could use some company,” a voice said, and when you raised your head, you looked into Kemen’s eyes.

“To be honest, I'd much rather be alone right now,” you replied, but he didn't seem to care what you wanted. He sat down on the bench opposite you and looked at you with a hungry look. “Believe me, I can tell when someone doesn't want to be alone. And the way you're drinking that wine, you definitely need some distraction,” he explained and you snorted.

“Oh, yeah? And you want to give me that distraction?” you asked skeptically, raising your eyebrows as you placed the mug on the wooden table.

Kemen just looked you in the eyes as he reached across the table for your hand. You looked down at his fingers that were holding yours and then raised your gaze again to look into his eyes.

A few moments later he was pushing your back against the wall of an alley while he greedily devoured your mouth. It wasn't that you found him attractive. He was a nasty little snake, but in that moment he could give you what you needed and that it was a distraction from the man, who hurt you so many centuries before but still held your heart in his hand.

“You have no idea how long I've wanted to do this,” the mortal gasped against your lips and you had to control yourself from rolling your eyes. “You better be quiet and keep kissing me,” you replied and your lips collided again. But just as his hands were about to wander down your body, he stopped.

Or rather, someone ripped him away from you, causing him to stumble backwards into a few barrels that were behind him. “You better get out of here before I kill you,” Halbrand growled menacingly, making Kemen swallow hard. He gave you a last look, before he turned and hurried away.

With a heavy sigh, you wiped your mouth, erasing the feeling of his lips, as you casually pushed yourself away from the wall.

“Now you've chased him away. I just wanted to have a little fun,” you said with a sly smile, which made Halbrand snort.

“Seriously? He's not even attractive. Nor even worthy of you. Besides...” he began, moving closer. “I'm the only one who's allowed to touch you like this.” You could see his eyes darken and you took a step towards him. Your hand went to his chest and you looked up at him through your eyelashes.

“Sweetheart, who can touch me is still my decision. And it's definitely not you,” you said, pushing past him and wanting to leave to follow your toy, but he grabbed your wrist.

“It's you and me against the world,” he said, making you freeze. You closed your eyes, let the words sink in and gathered all your hatred before turning around and shoving him in the chest. “You damn bastard! Do you really think that I will fall for these words again? That I will give myself to you again as if you hadn't ripped my heart out of my chest?”

By now he was standing with his back pressed against the wall and stared at you with a wild look. Your breathing was heavy and you were about to slap him, but instead your mouths collided.

Your fingers dug into the fabric of his clothes while he held your head in his hands. He devoured you completely, just as if he were a starving man. His tongue ran over yours while his other hand clung desperately to your hip.

An angry growl escaped your lips as you pulled away from him again, grabbing the dagger from under the skirt of your dress to press it against his throat. “I hate you. I hate you for what you did to me. You promised to give me everything. Instead, you took everything from me. And I will make you pay for that,” you hissed against his lips, but he didn't seem to care at all.

“Go on, do it. Make me pay for it,” he growled, his voice full of desire, giving you goosebumps. “But you can't deny what your body is telling me so clearly. You're dying to feel me, aren't you?” he continued, his words against your mouth and you pressed him a little harder against the wall.

The dagger was still at his throat and he slowly raised his hand. He wrapped it around the blade and pushed it away, causing pitch-black blood to ooze from his hand and drip onto the floor. “You know I never wanted to hurt you, Y/N. I wanted you by my side, believe me,” he said and pushed himself away from the wall, forcing you to back away. The blade was still cutting into his skin, but you didn't think about letting it down.

“Then why did you betray me?” you asked him, your voice shaking with suppressed anger.

“Because otherwise you would have gone down with me,” he answered, the look in his eyes so honest that you slowly lowered the knife. “You want to hear the real reason I came to Númenor? It's you,” he added, raising his hand to stroke your cheek, but you clasped his wrist before he could touch you.

Your eyes were locked, neither of you able to look away as you took his hand and ran your tongue over the bleeding wound in his palm. The sweet taste of his blood filled your senses and you saw his mouth open in a soft moan.

The dagger fell from your hand and onto the ground as Halbrand's lips crashed against yours again. He groaned as his tongue touched yours again and he could taste his own blood.

Soon his hands were everywhere, in your hair, on your ass and your breasts — but you had no intention of letting him take control. In the middle of the kiss you paused and looked up at him with an evil smile. “You really think I'll forgive you that easily?” you asked and he frowned. “I want you to beg. I want you to fall to your knees in front of me and beg for forgiveness,” you continued and his jaw tensed.

Before he could protest, you pushed him back against the wall again and your hand stroked the bulge in his pants. “Do you have any idea how much pain you've caused me? How many times I've wished you were alive so I could be the one to stab a damn dagger into your heart?” you said and Sauron hissed as you applied light pressure to his erection.

You could feel his cock twitching in his pants, desperate for your touch, but you were far from finished.

“I turned my back on the Valar, and yet I begged them to wash you from my soul. Your touches, your kisses, everything that was left of you,” a tear ran down your cheek, “so that I no longer have to bear the pain of your betrayal, but they did not hear me,” you continued, pushing his hand up. Fresh blood had oozed from the wound, but instead of licking it up, you smeared it on the skin of his neck.

You slowly leaned forward, one hand in his hair, pulling his head back. “And here you are and I finally get the chance to take my revenge,” you whispered before sliding your tongue over his neck and licking the blood from his skin.

Halbrand shuddered and gasped as he moved his hips against your body. But you wouldn't give him that release. You wanted to hear him beg for it.

“Please,” escaped his lips and you bit your lower lip.

“Please what?” you breathed and began to massage him through the fabric. “Use your words, deceiver,” you demanded and he growled in frustration at your choice of words.

“Please, touch me,” he said and you placed a gentle kiss on his cheek.

Without saying another word, you opened his pants and took his cock in your hand, which made Halbrand almost gasped in relief. With your other hand you gently brushed some hair from his face and he leaned almost longingly into your touch.

“Of all the faces you've ever worn... this is my favorite, my dearest Mairon,” you whispered, slowly starting to move your hand up and down his length.

His eyes closed and his head fell to the side as you squeezed a little harder, causing him to moan softly. “How does that feel?” you asked, pausing when he didn't answer. “Have you lost your voice?” you breathed against his lips and he growled softly.

“It feels good. Finally feeling your touch again... I've been longing for this for so—” he broke off as you ran your thumb over the tip and smeared the precum.

“Fuck!” he groaned and you couldn't help but smile. “That's the plan,” you replied and started moving your hand faster until his cock began to twitch in your hand. His breathing became deeper and you could tell he was close, but you weren't finished yet.

Just as he was about to reach his climax, you let go of him and his moan turned into a frustrated growl. “You damn...” the words died in his throat as he opened his eyes and his gaze fell on your naked body.

He could see how much you wanted him too, because your arousal was clearly visible on the inside of your thighs, practically inviting him to taste you.

“You will be the death of me...” he said and took a step towards you, but you stopped him by placing your hand on his chest again, brushing your fingertips through the dark curls growing there.

“No, not yet. Not until you're ready to kneel for me,” you said, but he decided your dominance was over now. He came closer, your hand now trapped between your bodies, and slid his hand over the curve of your ass.

“I would always fall to my knees for you, my love,” he whispered against your lips, gliding to the back of your knee with his rough hand and lifted your leg to his hip.

With a smile, you leaned against the stone wall behind you and looked him in the eyes as he slid his finger through your folds. After that, he raised his finger to his lips and licked up your wetness, making you whimper.

“Are you getting impatient now?” Sauron asked, unable to suppress a grin, then, without warning, he sank to his knees and guided your leg so that it was over his shoulder.

Finally, he dove between your legs and ran his tongue through your folds. Your body trembled under the intensity of the touch and you clung your hands to his hair. Your lips were slightly open, but no sound came out.

Only when he dipped his tongue into your wetness, did you moan and lean forward to press his head deeper between your legs. But Halbrand put a hand on your stomach and pushed your upper body back, so you had to lean against the wall again.

He started lapping at you as if you were his favorite meal and didn’t stop until you whimpered his name, then he pulled away from you and stood up.

“I have missed you, you have no idea how much. Even when I was nothing more than a mass without a body or a brain, all I could think about was that beautiful face and how much I loved fucking that beautiful little cunt,” he murmured and began to gently kiss up your jaw. “I wanted to marry you. I wanted you by my side. And in the end, I had no choice but to betray you — so I could protect you,” he continued, pressing a kiss just below your ear, the stubble making you shiver. “If I hadn't done that, you would have suffered the same fate as me. And unlike me, you wouldn't have come back.”

His hand lifted your leg to his hip again and you felt him stroking your entrance with the tip of his cock.

“What if I hadn't managed to escape? What if they had killed me?” you asked him before letting out a shaky breath. “Oh love, I never doubted you, so why should I have started with that?”

With those words, he thrusted his entire length into you. A breathless cry escaped you, and as you looked into Halbrand's eyes, could see the darkness spreading in them. Dark lines became visible on the skin around his eyes for a split second, making him seem so much more menacing — but to you, even more attractive.

It caused your core to clench around his cock and a gasp escaped your lips. Your fingers slid over the lines, which disappeared right after, and his gaze met yours. “You are mine. You always have been,” he said, beginning to move his hips against yours. “You can never escape me.” With that, he pulled out of you before thrusting hard into you again, drawing a frustrated cry from you.

“You will never be able to wash me from your soul. And even if I do, I will find you and defile it again, because you are mine.” Your head fell to the side and you breathed his name. “Mine.” Another thrust and a tremor in your body as you met his movement.

Suddenly he slipped out of you, grabbed with both hands under your thighs and lifted you up so that you had to wrap your legs around his waist. Seconds later he was inside you again and fucked you mercilessly against the wall.

The rough stone scratched your back while the most sinful sounds escaped your lips.

And when he felt you approaching your climax, he put a hand on your cheek and stroked your lower lip with his thumb. Your eyes met again and you could hear him in your head. Heard the words in the Black Speech that made you fall apart.

You and me against the world.

And you realized, that it was true. You could never really wash him from your soul.

2024 notreallythatlost

#halbrand x reader #sauron x reader #the rings of power #rop x reader #halbrand smut #sauron smut

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ghostyeyestohide · 1 day ago

Text

What If My Heart Beats Faster?

(I Put A Spell On You Finale)

Pairing: Terrance (Foe) x Valerie (Plus Size Black Fem OC) x Junior (Foe) x Hen (Foe)

Warnings: angst, fluff, blowjob/handjob, dirty talk, memories of sexual contact, happy ending, panic attack, cussing, tears, cause of death revealed, fear, emotions, faux death (side effects of erasing memories), planning pregnancy, mentioning of blood, and Non-Canon/Canon.

Summary: The day Hen and A.I. Junior didn’t want to come has finally arrived. And this greatly affects Valerie and Terrance, who’s life changes after this.

Parts: Part One • Part Two • Part Three

A/N: This is really the end of this. Can’t believe it. But, I’m also happy cause I got that Exotic Travelers series otw + the Macrinus one shot. I want to thank everyone who loved this as not only did I want to at least be one of the few to write about Foe Terrance, but to see how I would’ve written Foe if I was apart of the writers room. And I do apologize if I got some details wrong. I haven’t watched it in a year. Enjoy and send ya around! 🫶🏽🫶🏽

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do not copy or repost my work. I do not authorize it.

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Valerie is in the shower, washing her body as the memories from two nights ago plays in her mind.

Terrance eating her out, her blowing Junior, watching them fuck and kiss, the dance with Hen, the moans, her making out with the men all played as she begins touching herself, gently massaging her breasts before rubbing her clit.

“Fuck….” she whispers, laying against the tiled shower wall as the hot water and steam hits her body.

She begins rubbing faster as the memory of her getting double penetrated plays, her breathing becoming stiffly. As Terrance releases inside her, she also meets hers, feeling her body tense up and shaking. After relaxing from her high, she rinses her body again before getting out of the shower, wrapping herself in a bath robe.

Walking into the bedroom, she sees a bouquet of roses and three different sizes white boxes lying on the bed. Thinking he must’ve slipped in while she was in the shower, she picks up the envelope attached to one of them. She opens it and pulls out a note that read:

“Hey, baby. I know you were very lonely last night with me not being next to you. So was I. And no, I didn’t do what you think I did. I heard your order subconsciously. Even if you didn’t say it. So, I went into the city and bought you your favorite flowers and some things I want to see you wear tonight. Almost like you’re my personal prize. For now, I have to check on him, Hen, and when real Junior is on his way. See you soon, Val.

- T. “

She smiled, kissing the note before putting it back carefully and tossing it on the bed. Grabbing the first box, a small one, she removes the top, revealing itself as a matching dangling diamond earrings and diamond choker jewelry set that has the same exact design of her engagement ring. She gasps, gently picking up the items.

“Oh wow. He finally found it.” she said, remembering she mentioned wanting the set to him a long time ago, but had no luck since it sold out quickly after restocks.

After placing the set on her vanity table, she grabs the medium box, taking a seat on the bed. Placing it on her lap, she removes the top, revealing a pair of brown pumps, lined with a forrest green patch on the back. She traces it before placing her foot in it, making sure it fits, which it does.

She takes it off and pulls the final box, believing it’s the outfit. Removing the top, she sees a forrest green fabric. Pulling out, it reveals itself as a long dress with a reveal cleavage line that has a seen-through bottom that shows where the inner dress stops at, which is above the knee.

“Oh my……” is all she could get out, thinking if this is too revealing or he really does want me to feel like a prize.

Standing up, she walks to the mirror and presses the dress to her body, seeing his vision. Smiling, she hangs it up on a rack and begins getting ready for Junior’s homecoming.

🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲

A few hours go by and Valerie, now wearing a satin robe and has hair rollers in her head, walks into the kitchen, looking to get something to drink.

As she takes out a bottle of water, she hears a hard knock on the front door, making her jump a bit. Cautiously, she walks to the door, pulling the curtain back, and peering out the window. She sees Junior, all tensed and pacing, on the porch.

“What is he doing here?!” she whispers as she opens the door.

“I’m sorry for showing up, but I can’t go back there, Val.” he says, walking past her.

She nods in an aggravated manner, closing the door behind her. She turns to look him, but he’s not behind her. Looking around, she searches the house for a few minutes before finding him in the kitchen, laying against the island.

“Junior….you can’t be here.”

“You have to listen me! This is all a setup!“ he says in a irate voice.

“For what?”

“Him! He’s the one who’s gonna be here while I’m gone.”

“….what?” she said with a confused expression.

“Its him. He’s gonna replace me. I thought I would let you know so when he leaves you, it’s not the first time you’re finding out.”

Staring at him with a baffled look on her face, she breaks out laughing, making him look at her in a confused way.

“It’s not funny…..he’s really playing the both us.” he says as her laughing grows louder.

Finally, she catches her breath, grabbing the water bottle and taking a few sips before clearing her throat.

“You’re funny, but seriously. You need to leave. He’ll be pissed if he comes home and finds you.” she said, gently pushing him.

“What?! Valerie, I’m being serious! I have proof that he is going to be my replacement!”

“Junior, if that was the case, you would be deceased right now. Me included. Now please go!”

“Why? Don’t you see he’s just dumping you out here so you have nowhere to go?! You come from nothing like you said!”

“I’m not stupid and he’s not throwing 8 years away for Hen!”

“Some people can be deceiving!”

“Yeah? Why don’t you take a look in the mirror for once?” she said, giving up on pushing him.

“What is that suppose to mean?”

She chuckled, stepping into his space.

“…It means you wasn’t like this two nights in that room, drunk off your ass.” she whispers, leaning forward.

Junior steps back, staring at her bizarrely, with her smile dropping.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“You don’t remember? Or is this your way of hiding the fact that you’re gonna miss the both of us, or just him?” she asks, sending him a smirk.

“Why the hell would I be doing that? See, you’re not realizing he’s not suppose to be alone with my wife! You been falling for his lie too long!” he replied, very angry as he pointed at the door.

Looking at him dazedly, she’s thinking why doesn’t he remember what we did. Then it hit her: he erased that memory out of his mind like he said he would. She smiled, covering her mouth to not let out a laugh.

“Oh, now you’re getting it through your fucking head. Your husband’s a fraud!”

“No, he’s not. If anything, he’s a genius who has a great self awareness skill that they’re gonna teach the new OuterMore generation one day. God, I need to fuck him when I see him.” she says, whispering the last part to herself.

“No. What we need to do is go save my wife and we can all escape from thi-“ he says as he grabs her arm.

She snatches it back, slapping him across the face as a reflex. He yells, grabbing his face.

“Are you insane? I’m not in danger and neither is you! All you have to do is go back home to her and everything will go back to normal!” she responds, very irritated.

He looks at her, very enraged. He walks towards her slowly, making her back up until she’s leaned up against the island. He places his hands on each side of the island, blocking her in. She leans back slightly as he leaned forward.

“…fine. You can stay here and continue living under his control like you been doing. But me? I’m getting out of here. And I’m taking her with me. If you get consequences because of my decision, that’s on you.” he whispered, turning to leave.

Scoffing really loud, she follows him, watching him walk.

“He doesn’t control me.”

“Yeah fucking right.” he mumbled, making her even more heated.

“He listens to whatever I want to make sure my needs are met. You know why? Because he actually loves me.”

“Oh please. You two aren’t as different as you believe.”

“We are. You wanna know how? He didn’t start treating bad because he didn’t want to hear my suggestion of visiting downtown or a big city due to not wanting to lose me. He values my feelings, and he actually holds himself accountable if he does anything I don’t like that hurts me. He loves this job, but he would never put it over me, no matter what. He knows how to love. I’m sorry for whatever memories the real Junior put inside you because if this assignment taught me anything: even if you attempted to fix something that’s broken, it can’t be salvaged if it’s damaged a lot, no matter how hard you try.” she said, immediately gasping, regretting what she said.

Junior stopped in his tracks, replaying the last part she uttered. Slowly turning to face her, he looks at her, appalled.

“…what do you mean the real Junior?” he asks.

“….I’m afraid I said too much.” she whispers.

“No, no. What are you trying to say?”

She stares at him, afraid to respond to his question. Then, she feels a sharp pain on her lower hip, making her wince and collapse as she grabs it. Junior runs over, kneeling as she begins to breathe very harshly.

“Where does it hurt?! Maybe I can get you ice and it will calm it do—“

“What I need you to do is shut the hell up right now! It’s just a painful shock that goes….away….after….a few…moments.” she says, her words trailing as the sensation winds down.

Weirded out by what he witnessed, he backs away, fearing what was going to happen next. She checks and moves her hips, seeing if something’s out of place so she can tell Terrance.

Feeling a loose screw sticking out, she gets up and walks carefully to the kitchen, looking around for a small tool box. Checking the drawers, she comes across nothing until she sees a box in the fifth one and takes it out. Opening it, she looks through it to find a screwdriver with the same edge to fit until pulling one. Placing it on the screw, she twists it, feeling pressure each time until it’s back in its socket, no longer out of place. She looks at Junior, who is now standing up, horrified look across his face.

“…..are you….not…t-the real Valerie?” he asks frantically.

“…..no. You’re not the real Junior either. That’s why he—we— came back after two years. The time has ended.”

“What?” he said, looking distraught.

“He’ll be home in less than four hours.” she replied, holding back sadness.

“…does Hen kn—“

“Always did. That’s why she was acting odd with you the whole time. Him questioning, doing measurements, checking your health, following everything you do….just to make sure you’re not slowly realizing you’re the replica.”

He looks around the room, in shocked that everything he thought he knew was all just to trick him.

“Is she coming home too?”

She shakes her head, hoping he’ll stop asking before the pressure of revealing the truth settles in.

“Why not?”

“….she’s dead. Died about five years ago.” she admitted, with shame behind her tone.

“…..did he kill her?”

“No! He would never do…..he would never….do that…” she said, her voice breaking as she begins to cry, slowly falling to her knees.

Junior, feeling empathetic, walks to her, kneeling down. He pulls her into his chest, letting her cry everything out as he rubbed her back. After a few minutes, she lifts her head, slightly wiping her already swollen eyes.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to throw that accusation out like that.”

“You’re fine. But no. He didn’t kill her. He loved her too much to ever do that.” she said, sniffling.

“Then what happened? If you don’t mind me asking.”

Sighing, she gets up, walking into another room. A few minutes later, she returns with a file folder, handing it to him. He hesitantly grabs it, putting it on the floor and opening it as she heads to the kitchen.

Inside, he finds pictures of her, her and Terrance, some baby photos, documents of many things, her birth certificate, and her ‘cause of death’ report next to a group photo, in which he picks up, of her and others, wearing OuterMore gear, with a sign that says: Group 1 - May 1, 2060.

“Is this a mistake? I thought the space program didn’t launch until ‘61?”

“It didn’t. The program launched in 2060, meaning they been doing it for five years, not four. They changed it to cover their tracks.” she says, sipping her water.

“Why?” he asks, looking at her.

“….the first launch was a failure. A tragic one that no one saw coming. Not even Terrance.”

“What was it…”

She sighed, walking back to him to sit in front, sliding the folder between them as she cleared her throat.

“Every thing I told you and Hen about her did actually happen. She is from New York, she doesn’t know her family, she was bouncing back and forth between jobs because of harassment, she did meet Terrance at his post-grad party, they did get married after six months of dating, and she did travel with him for these assignments. He didn’t make none of this up for me to say, these are the memories that were implanted so I can function exactly like her, even though I’m just her replica.”

“Does it feel odd?”

“…at first, it did. But that’s because I had no idea what was going on truly and he was hurting really bad because of what happened, which is what I’m about to tell you.”

She exhales slowly, feeling herself tensing up.

“I’m sorry if I get very emotional. Not only is this…very hard to talk about still….it was never Terrance’s fault. He still believes that til this day, even though he’s been over it, but…it’s a haunting memory to carry on, you know?” she says, trailing off as the sheer weight of it.

Junior nods, gently rubbing her hand. She smiles a little, looking at the group photo.

“The program launched, so they had their first lottery. It was random and included everyone who lived in the United States for more than 15 years. Hence why they went with 15 people. And she got selected, much to her and Terrance’s surprise. She was scared because she didn’t think it was gonna happen this soon. But, since he worked on this program, she trusted a lot with everything, so it’s not like nothing could go wrong.”

She looks at him, seeing the somberness filling up in his face.

“The day came. She was nervous to leave him behind, but he encouraged her a lot to have fun in space, saying he’ll still be here in two years, almost like a promise. They kissed and hugged one last time before she got on the ship. He didn’t know that would be the last time he’ll see her alive.” she says, looking at the death report as the memory of latter played in her head.

“It took off, in which they called a “successful launch from base”. But, a few minutes after takeoff, two of the engines went out, making the ship move but not as fast. None of the crew knew what happened until it was too late. Cause a few moments later, the ship exploded, killing everyone on board.”

“My god…..” he whispered.

“They couldn’t believe it. They made sure everything was fine. Nothing seemed off and they had a test run, which they passed. What did they accidentally overlook? The fuel tanks. The gas from their boosters leaked into those due to the seals being loose, which they still don’t understand how that happened. But, when that gas mixes with the fuel tanks gas…..well, you see the result.”

“Was all this explained to you immediately? When you woke up?”

“….no. When I woke up, I was expecting him to be there, taking in my design, my behavior, the way I moved, the way I was examining my surroundings….”

She looks at their wedding picture, hanging above the fireplace.

“He didn’t come home for three days. I tried to get in contact with him many times, but his calls went to voicemail. I contacted OuterMore, who said they were going through this tragedy each time, but they’ll rely the message. I was angry because I thought I did something wrong and he was purposely avoiding me. When he finally came home, I was ready to argue about it, but….he looked so worn out. He definitely was crying, his eyes all red and a bit swollen, chapped lips, disheveled clothes, moving very slow.”

She looks down, trying to not cry again as that night begins to play in her mind.

“When he saw me, he stopped. I wanted to say something, but I couldn’t. I just….walked up to him, expecting him to back up, but he stood there, kept his gaze on me. I touched his face, gently tracing over his lips, and quietly asked what happened?” as she wipes her eyes.

“I guess the sound of hearing her voice again broke him because he fell to his knees and started crying against my stomach, holding me very tight. I let him stay there, rubbing his head and absorbing his sadness. For the next two months, he was very distant, but was slowly explaining what had happened, what I was, and them trying to figure out a solution to keep us functioning past the two years since they immediately decided that they weren’t taking us back when the deadline came.”

“Did you feel like it was damage control?” he asked, but she shook her head as she looks at him.

“Like I said, it was an accident. They didn’t know the seals were loose. But it was very uncomfortable with different OuterMore employees stopping by every day to examine and update you until the solution came. Of course, that caused a bit of a strain between us.”

“Why?”

“….you don’t really get over losing your spouse. But, you also don’t like when even your own co-workers are making the replica of your spouse uncomfortable with changes and there’s nothing you can do about it. I tried to vouch for them as them doing their job, but he didn’t wanna hear it and just kept ignoring my suggestions. That made me question if I even wanted to be married to him still.”

“But you two got over it.”

“Yeah. After I ran away.”

“…..you ran away?”

“It was a day that none of the workers came. Like a holiday or day off, can’t remember. It was raining too. A lot for Cleveland. He was being a pain in the ass, stressing from work and stuff. So, being a good wife, I was trying to calm him down, made his favorite meal and just give him love. He liked the meal, and was enjoying me kissing him, even rubbing on him but of course, a phone call of OuterMore just had to interrupt this.”

“Damn.” he said, laughing which made her laugh as well.

“Don’t get me wrong. I was sexually deprived and wasn’t about to force him to fuck me. But, I was very annoyed with that and just let him have it as soon as he ended the call. Asking him why are you treating me this way, I know you’re going through it with losing her, but I don’t like feeling the burden of it, and asking him to just love me, not push me away. He berated me, saying I’m doing the best I can to make sure I can move on from this, saying its harder for him because he has to spend the rest of his life with a replica of his dead wife ruining….”

Her voice trailed off as she became very teary eyed, trying to clear her throat.

“When I look back at it, I can tell he didn’t mean it. He was just reacting off anger and instantly regretted it as soon as he was done, noticing I had a terrified look on my face.” she said, sniffling. “He tried to apologize, saying he didn’t mean it, but I didn’t want to hear it. So, I slapped him, said fuck you, and ran out of the house in tears, ignoring his pleas.” she said, watching the memory in her head.

“Not sure how far I ran because I didn’t know the Cleveland area that well. I know I was by a bridge that faced the skyline before it started to rain. So, I went over to this dark area, which was a bad idea cause dogs started to bark and I fell a few times to get away until I was under this big tree. Covered in mud, hair was just ruined, and my dress was ripped. I sat close to it and just cried, thinking he wasn’t going to find me and I was gonna die. I fell asleep a few minutes later, as the rain picked up, which felt very calming in that moment.” she said, smiling a bit.

“When I woke up….I noticed I was in the passenger seat of a moving vehicle, wanting to get out. But as I was about to find something to open the door, I feel a hand touch my thigh. I looked over and I saw him, eyes & nose red and swollen. He had been crying, fearing he had lost me for good. He didn’t say anything, just gently pushing me back into my seat, signaling everything is going to be okay.” she said, tugging at her robe.

“When we got home, he turned on the shower for me. He removed my dress, panties, and shoes before letting me walk into and wash up. He removed his clothes and joined me, helping me wash my hair and scrub my body. I felt like I was being pampered, with him not saying anything, just being active. As we got out, he oiled up my body, just gently massaging it into my skin, which felt nice. Next thing you know, I’m on my back, getting fucked like it was our last time toge—.” as the memory of him fucking her in missionary played.

“Alright, I don’t need to hear that.” said Junior.

“Just saying, Junior! Asking me who pussy it is, saying you’re mine, don’t forget that, worshipping me….he was really sorry. Sure, we went back to our regularly scheduled program, but he started paying attention to me, love me, and console me. And we just grew from there……that’s all I wanted.”

“And you got it.”

“I know that’s what you want, but in your situation, it’s not possible. Which is why you need to go back or risk getting Terrance in trouble.”

“What happens if I refuse? Just go AWOL?”

“They take me away. He loses his job. And I probably will see him again, just everything is gonna to be er…..”

As she’s about to say something, the burning sensation returns, this time, feeling even worse and making her scream as she touches it, falling back and wincing in pain.

“Valerie, are you okay?!” he asks, kneeling next her as he touches her.

“You have to leave!” she yells out, trying to ease the pain.

“But you hurt.”

“I will be fine! It’s not worth getting caught over. Please….just go.” she replies, groaning as the sensation starts spreading.

Hesitate to leave, Junior looks at her one more time before getting up and running out of the door, taking the shortcut back home through their backyard.

As her groans turn into cries, she begins saying little prayer, hoping she’s not shut down as her breathing sped. Finally, after a few minutes of agony, it stopped, with her breathing returning to normal. She begins to cry, scared of what’s going to happen next.

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About 45 minutes later, the front door swings up, with Terrance walking in.

Having an infuriated look across his face, he checks around the house to see if Junior was there, finding no traces before heading upstairs.

After checking the guest room and hallway bathroom, he walks into the bedroom, pushing the door open hard, making Valerie, who was doing her makeup again, jump.

“….was he here?” he asked in a stern voice, examining the room.

“…..no.” she replied, lying through her teeth.

“Why the long pause?”

“You scared me?” she said, looking at him.

“….Ima ask you again. Was Junior here?”

“And I’m telling you again: no.” she replied, looking away from him.

“….okay, okay. I see you wanna do that.” he mumbled, removing his jacket and tossing it on the floor.

Locking eyes with her through the mirror, he closes the door, calmly walks towards her, who resumes her routine, not trying to show she’s hiding the truth.

“….you know I can tell you’re lying, right?” he asked, flashing a small grin.

“How so?” she asked.

“It’s almost….” as he looks at his watch, “three hours before real Junior gets here. And normally around this time, you’re done with your hair and makeup. That’s one thing.”

“I could’ve woken up late.”

“See? That’s how I know you didn’t. You said could’ve.”

She rolls her eyes, breaking his hold as she got up and walked into the bathroom.

“There you go, walk off as soon as I point something out.”

“Did something happen?” she asks, popping her head out the door.

“You’re not usually an asshole when you come back to check on me.” she said, standing in doorway to look at him.

He lets out a harsh sigh before kneeling in front of her, being very close in her space.

“You tell me. Woke up, made breakfast with Hen, which woke him up. We all ate and told him that me and her are going in town for something and we’ll be back in a few hours or less. We actually went to headquarters to make final arrangements as we anticipate his return.”

“If you think submitting to me is suppose to make me ease up on you, it’s not working.” she says, walking past him.

He smirks before bouncing up to his stance, grabbing her by her robe train and turning her away from him, scaring her.

“We come back and he’s nowhere to be found. Didn’t even bother to take his truck. So now, we sent out search parties because it’s a good measurement for the company, right?” he whispers, walking her towards the bed.

“What are you doing….” she asks in an alarmed tone.

He ignores her, turning her around to place her on the edge, gently tracing her face.

“….WRONG!” he yells, slams his hands by her sides, making her jump.

He lets out a broken, haunting chuckle as Valerie feels her face beginning to burn because of his troubling glare at her.

“As I’m waiting for an update on him, Bill comes over. He was very chipper, praising how I did a great job with this one and is thinking about working on that special request I asked him for when I submitted the lab analyst application. Said I got the job. Meaning we’re staying here…”

“…so then what happen?” she whispered, but he shushes her.

“Now here he is, looking crestfallen as if I betrayed him. He pulled me to the side, asking me if everything is alright? and I said yes. Confused in my mind. Then he dropped it: he’s suspending me.” he says, kneeling in front of her, placing his hands on her thighs.

“…..don’t tell me its because of…..”

“Yeah. They’re opening an investigation of violation against policy article 7, title 2: non-sexual contact between the associate and assignment, consensual. Hen told one of them in secret while we were at the headquarters. Said she heard him moaning, my movements, and…..said to look into you as she heard your voice as well.” he said coldly.

Valerie’s heart dropped, hearing the news. She begins breathing erratically as tears begin to fall out of her eyes.

“They’re taking you tomorrow. I don’t know how long you’re going to be gone or if you’re coming back, but that’s his decision.” he says, rubbing her hands.

“They can’t! I refuse!” she yells, getting up as she pushes him off.

She begins pacing the room, trying to catch her breath as Terrance watches her, not used to seeing her react like this.

“You erased everything, right? Why can’t they just use A.I. Junior to dismiss her claim?!”

“They were. Until you got brought up. I’m sorry.”

“I shouldn’t have went into that room. I knew it was a risk, but god…I wasn’t prepared for this.” she says, breaking down as her cries fills the room.

He looks down, sniffling as he’s hurt at seeing her heartbroken like this, not wanting to cry with her.

“It’s not your fault. It’s mine. I should’ve stopped when he kissed me, but…..I gave into my own urges. And now, I have to pay the price…I’ll resign.”

“No! You worked too damn long for this, you can’t just give up!” she yelled, looking at him.

“They’re taking you and I can’t do anything until it’s over. Whether they keep you for good or you come back, I can’t fight it…I’m sorry, Val.”

“Then erase the memories then. You said it only takes 30 minutes, ri—“

“No!” he replied as he stood up, silencing her.

She looks away, wiping her tears as he walks to her, sitting down to face her.

“That machine is dangerous and can have long term effects on you if I hooked you to it. Plus, I don’t have it just laying around to use.”

“Then just turn me off.” she said as she lays on her back, looking at the ceiling.

“Why can’t you have hope that I beat this investigation?”

“Because when they see the way you were fucking him, they’re not giving me back to you. So let’s just get this over with and you can move on with your life.”

He laughs stiffly, fighting hard not to react angrily or break down.

“And what? Just accept the fact that OuterMore took away my wife twice? Keeping all of her DNA and data as if she wasn’t the love of my fucking life?! Is that what you want?”

“You were literally suggesting resignation and now, you’re upset that I’m suggesting a better solution?!”

“I don’t want us to be separated!” he yelled.

“Hell. I don’t want us to end…..it doesn’t feel like I have spent enough time with you.” he looks at her with pity in his eyes.

“Don’t say tha……” she whispers, tears filling up in her eyes.

He crawls next to her, laying down as he gently rubs her stomach, watching her tears fall.

“8 years. Three with her. 5 with you…..”

“….that’s almost a decade. And we did a lot of things. Visited different cities, tried different foods, you gifting me a lot of things, made love in different areas….and with other people.” she replied, making the both of them laugh.

“Yeah. I guess we did have a good ride.”

They laid in silence for a few moments before she looked at him, tracing his lips. Sitting up, she places a few kisses on him before giving him a passionate kiss. He tries to fight back, but she holds him down, climbing on top on him. He breaks the kiss, catching his breath.

“Baby, as I much as I want to, I have to get back soon.”

“Then let me take care of you real quick. Just so you’re a little more relaxed.” she whispers, slowly unbuttoning his pants and sliding her hand into his boxers.

“Val, plea…” he replied as she wraps her hand around his aching length, making him grunt loud.

“Come on. You’re already hard….at least let me fix this.” she replied, moving herself towards the end so his length is in her face, gently stroking him.

He lets out a few hisses, biting his lip as he unbuttoned his shirt and removes it, gently guiding her to his length to engulf it, in which she does.

“Fuck. God, your mouth is warm…..” he mumbles, watching her bobble her head up and down.

Sounds of slurping and moans fills the room as she removes his length from her mouth, catching her breath as she stroked it faster, locking eyes with him.

“You like when I do that? Make you wince and moan like a man should?”

“Yes.” he moans, feeling his release building up. “How are you so good at?” he asks her in a whisper tone.

“Cause you made me like that. You and your nasty ass thoughts begging me to treat you like you did something bad….” she replied, tracing his head with her tongue, making him moan loud.

“Mm, you’re sick. You know that? You enjoy watching your wife fuck a bunch of women while you play with yourself cause you’re a piece of shit…”

“I am.” he replied, letting out a groan as he feels himself getting closer and closer, making her laugh.

“Oh you are?”

“Yes. I’m a piece of shit.”

“I should deny your pathetic ass your release right now, but I wanna see you squirm as you look at me with those pitiful eyes one last time.” she replied, stroking faster.

“Yes. I deserve that.” he whispers.

“Come on. Give it to me.”

“Fuck.”

“Give it to me, you piece of shit!” she yells, sticking her tongue.

As she said that, his release washes over him, shooting into her mouth and face. She kisses the tip one more time before wiping her face with her hand, licking up every drop as he huffed and puffed. She smiled before fear struck her, fading into a worried look.

“…..he was here.” she confessed.

Terrance shot up, looking at her with an irate glare. He leans into space, making her look away.

“…..why was he here?”

“He was…was trying to run away, attempting to recruit me to join him and rescue Hen, but I told him no and to leave before you came back.”

“Is that all that happened?”

She went quiet, praying that he doesn’t explode at the next thing she tells him.

“He insulted me, saying I’m under your control and I….”

He leans closer, gently turning her face to look at him, regret all over her expression.

“Valerie, what happen….”

“…..I revealed the truth in the heat of the moment. Fuck, I’m sorry..” she admits, immediately crying.

Terrance looks at her with disgust before getting up, quietly putting back on his clothes, turning to the door.

“Where is he at?”

“Should be home. I told him its not worth going AWOL cause we could get in tr—“

“Oh, you remembered the we part in that moment, huh?”

“I just said I was heated!”

“That don’t mean shit right now! I told you countless of times to not let anyone’s talking get under your skin so bad that you reveal everything we worked hard on covering for two years!” he yells at her.

“You know she and I take no one’s shit, so sorry for defending me.”

“You’re not her!” he yells, shaking his head.

She gasped, caught off by that statement. Tears begin filling in his eyes, rage taking over his body.

“You will never be my Valerie. Cause she can manage anger control better than you can. That’s what makes you two different.”

She laughs stiffly, getting up to sit at the vanity, examining her face.

“Well, if she was still alive, she would’ve abandoned you for how much of a pussy you are. That’s why you submitted to her real easily because you’re used to being walked over by anyone. And eventually, she would’ve gotten sick of it.”

“You wouldn’t know. You’re just a replica after all.”

“A replica of your deceased wife that you refuse to move on from because deep down, you’re the reason she’s dead in the first place. You and OuterMore took her out and you hate that.” she says as she begins washing her face with a cleanser.

“Watch your fucking mouth.” he says, pointing at her.

“Go fuck yourself, Terrance. Maybe the way I’m feeling is the reflection of her true feelings. She couldn’t push it out before it was too late!”

“I said ENOUGH!” he yells, making her pause and turn to look at him .

“Go away. It’s not like you have anything left to say other than you fucked yourself over by immediately taking the job offer from them and dragged her into it.”

Terrance stares at her with an intense glare before walking towards the door and opening it, pausing in his movement.

“……I just wanted to say: I have always loved you. That was real. I’m sorry if you felt different from it.” he said before walking out, slamming the door.

She sits in silence for a few minutes before letting out a scream, crying into her hands. She looks at herself in the mirror, seeing how red and puffy her face is.

Getting up to go the bathroom, she finishes washing her face and reapplying her makeup before putting her dress and shoes on, finally being dressed.

Examining herself in the mirror, she smiles a little bit, trying to regain confidence in her and not show that they are fighting. Accepting what she sees, she turns to leave, but it stopped suddenly by her dress being caught on the knob of the lower cabinet.

“Really….as if this day couldn’t get worse?” she mumbles as she tries to remove it, but it doesn’t budge.

After a few more pulls, the dress finally unhooks, but opens the door and something falls out. She picks it up to put it back, but stops as she recognizes the ‘OuterMore’ logo on the top. Placing it on the counter, she lift up the top, which turns on instantly, popping up a screen that reads: OM Eraser V2.

“…..he lied or he fucking forgot.” she mumbled, going through the menu options.

Seeing the ‘Set Up Memories To Erase’ option, she clicks on it. Reading the instructions to insert where the holes are behind your ears, she retrieves her pouch, unzipping to use her magnetic tool.

Picking it up, she holds up a mirror to get a closer view, as she places it behind her left ear. Watching it connect to a spot, it lights up a white glow shield before it opens, revealing the two holes need on that side. She does the same behind her right ear.

Reading the instructions, she inserts a white colored tube into the top one, which instantly connects and lights up as she inserts the second tube, a clear one, into the bottom one, which connects and sucks out blood, which is to monitor her vitals as the process happens. She winces, feeling uncomfortable with these inserted in her as she continues.

“Please go through the files and choose which memories to erase to begin the process. Be weary of your choices as this cannot be undone.” the female generated voice said, presenting the files on the screen.

Carefully looking through them, she chooses the night they hooked up with Junior, the exchange she had with him in the hallway, her catching him playing with himself, any admissions of Terrance crushing on him, the moments she looked at the window of Junior watching them fuck, and lastly, the conversations from today.

“Before we proceed, you do have the option to import memories that didn’t happen, but could be created to make it seem like it was. Would you like to do that?” she asks, showing her a YES or NO option.

Valerie thought about it, concerned about what fake memories it’s going to implant in her head and is this going to ruin the real ones she still has. She worries if he’s gonna treat her differently when he finds out what she did or she’ll remember him at all.

After thinking on it for a few more minutes, she clicks the YES option, holding in her breath.

“The process will begin as soon as you click the BEGIN button. It will take 30-35 minutes to wipe everything out and you may experience a death that seems real, but it’s just fictional. Some short term effects include dry mouth, headache, confusion, pain/swelling, muscle aches, and fatigue.”

Looking at herself in the mirror one last time, she clicks the button, patiently waiting for it to happen. Looking at the white tube, it slowly begins to fading into a blueish-green color, signaling that the process is starting.

Suddenly, she feels a shock shoot inside her, making her collapse to the floor in excruciated pain, gasping for air. She begins to shake violently, feeling her body slowly shutting down.

“No….please..” she mumbled, trying to pull the tubes out, but gets shocked.

Her vision becomes blurry as she looks at the machine, which shows that 1% of the process has occurred.

Then her eyes begins to blink…

And blink….

And…..blink.

And….bli…

An……

She enters a deep, dark space. Just floating around.

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Valerie wakes up on a gurney, confused by her surroundings. Noticing she’s in a van by herself, she gets up and pushes the doors open, jumping out.

Noticing its dark and the area is surrounded by a lot of OuterMore employees, from crew building a satellite to associates chatting in circles, she concludes that this is not her house.

But whose house is it?

Feeling very sore and the headache is overbearing, she sits on the ledge, gently rubbing her head. Looking at her hands, she notices the dry patches of blood all over them.

“….who’s blood is this?” she whispers, feeling her mouth and throat being very dry.

She touches all over, seeing if they cut her open while she was knocked out until she touches the back of her ears, making her wince. Then, the bruising overtakes her neck, causing her to lay back. Then, a few visions, from yelling with her old housemates to her being harassed by group of men, played in her mind, making her jump up.

Why is that showing? What does it have to do with….whatever is going on now?

“Valerie?” said a slightly familiar voice, making her turn around.

A man in a black suit runs to her, carrying a bottle of water as she stood there, not knowing what to do or say. He tries to hug her, but she steps back, making him look at her in a confusing way.

“….honey, it’s me? Terrance? Your husband?” he said, holding up his hand to flash his wedding band.

She looks at him, not moving by what he said, still thinking. His gaze drops, turning into a worried look.

“Oh my god, you don’t remember anything…..” he whispered, sitting on the ledge before he dropped to the floor.

She looks around, noticing no one else is watching them before sitting next to him. About to say something, she begins to cough very hard due to the dryness in her throat, making him twist the cap off and press the bottle to her lips, signaling her to drink it, in which she does.

“….you woke up just in time for his arrival.”

“W-whose arrival?” she asks, looking at him.

“Juni…nevermind.”

“….are we far from New York?”

“Been far. 8 years straight.”

“…….was I kidnapped?”

“No. Not at all. You met me at my postgrad party. Went on a few dates, moved in with me, and we got married.” he replied, gently picking up her hand to show her the engagement and wedding rings.

“Do we have kids?”

“No. None at all. That’s what I was trying to make happen before my suspension.”

“Suspension…..”

“How do I explain this….um. The house we’re currently at? This is the house of my current assignment. He has a…robot version of himself living with his real human wife. He comes home in 45 minutes, but he’s not why I’m suspended.”

“Is she the reason?”

He smiled, in awe of how she doesn’t understand what’s going on, which is a side effect of temporary memory loss, which will return in a few hours or less.

“….yeah. But, it’s mostly my fault.”

“Why?”

“Well. To make a long story short: you’re not a human like me and her. You’re actually a robot version of my deceased wife, who died the day you were installed. So, because of this, we trained you to make sure you never reveal your true self to anyone, even the robots of our assignments.”

“So you’re my master.”

“No!” he says loudly, startling her.

“Sorry, no. I didn’t mean to say it like that.” as he rubbed her hands.” But no. I’ve always hated when anyone described it as that.”

“But, is it not?”

“Not the way I see it. You’re someone I know, not someone I just….own. But, I’m suspended because his wife complained to one of my co-workers, who told my boss, that I broke company policy. Which I did. And they’re investigating me…..and you.”

“Why? I didn’t do nothing.” she said, pointing at herself.

“Basically, you are company property, despite having my late wife’s DNA in you. Meaning we can check for memories. So, because you were a witness to the violation, they’re taking you away to see what happened. And if they determine that I indeed violated it, I get fired and they keep you for good.” he says, looking down.

“…..so this is our final goodbye? Is that why I have blood all over my hands?”

“I found you on the bathroom floor like that. Was coming back to pick you to bring you hereI didn’t tell them that part, or how you were hooked to the Eraser. Which I’m assuming is why you can’t remember a damn thing right now. Either you successfully got rid of the evidence or you accidentally erased everything.”

“Is this why everything feels…..groggy?”

“Mmhm. But it will go away.”

She smiles a bit before drinking more of the water. She locks eyes with a worried Hen on the porch, who looks away immediately as Bill talks to her.

“Did you two have a fight?”

“No. Haven’t mentioned that I’m aware of what she did.”

“No. You and….Valerie. Well, me.”

“Um….yeah. If anything, we said things we shouldn’t had.”

“Like what?”

He shifts in his spot, turning to face her, who’s waiting to hear his response.

“To be fair, I said she’ll never be real Valerie. All because I was upset that she revealed her true self and the robot’s actual self. Then, she said if real Valerie was still alive, she would’ve left me by now because I’m….”

He begins sniffing, which makes her slightly panic and rub his shoulder.

“We don’t have to continue if you don’t want to.” she said, gently wiping his face.

“No, no. Its fine. I’m just….getting emotional because the more I think about it, the more I realize that she would’ve been right. She did hate seeing me down whenever I came home and told her that they keep shooting down my ideas. She egged me on to stand up, which i slightly did, but that wasn’t enough. I do think she was uncomfortable with the treatment, but I wasn’t taking it seriously.”

“Do you wish you did all of this before she died?”

“Always. Not a day goes by when I don’t think about it. That’s why I listen to everything she tells me so I don’t make that mistake again.”

“…..what’s going to happen to me?”

He looks at her, gently tracing her face before looking at Bill and Hen talking.

“I don’t know. But whatever they find in your memories, it’s life or death for me. They might turn you off.”

“And what? They just keep her DNA while you’re banished? That’s not fair.”

“That’s life. And I advise you to drop it. I’m already under a lot of stress.”

“Fine.”

She lays her head on his shoulder as they look ahead, watching everyone prepare for Junior’s arrival. She looks up at him, taking in his beauty while tracing his lips.

“What does she like about you?” she asked, making him smile.

“Intelligence is what brought her in. The way I take care of her. How I’m understanding. Committed to pleasuring her needs. My accent is somewhere on the list.” he replied, making the both of them laugh at the last part.

“…..can I ask you something?”

“Mmhm.”

“Can you kiss me like how you kissed her? Like….the first time?” she asked, looking at him.

He smiles, gently pulling her closer as he kisses her, squeezing her hips. She wraps her arms his neck to deepen the kiss, getting lost.

Memories of the night they met, their many dates, the first time they hooked up, their wedding, their honeymoon, them visiting many different stores and monuments, and their nights watching the sky played inside her mind as she opens her eyes, realizing she’s not at the house anymore.

“What the hell is going on?!” she says as she breaks the kiss, immediately standing up.

“Valerie? Is-is this really you?” he asks, getting up as well.

“What? Why wouldn’t I not be me? Aren’t you suppose to be inside, ready to shut him off?” she asks, pointing at the house.

He wraps his hands around her face, pulling her close to examine if this is really her or this is a different one. She looks at him confused, trying to figure out why he’s doing this.

“….are you okay?” she asks, breaking the silence.

“Do you remember anything? Like at all?”

“Why wouldn’t I? I still have her memories.”

“No. Like today.”

“Um……we argued…..about something. You told me something happened with…..OuterMore? So…..I grabbed a device that…..I don’t know, it did something and I just passed out on the floor.” she said, trying her best to remember.

“…..do you remember what we did a few nights ago? With him?”

“……we did something with Junior? I thought he stormed off after I put Hen to bed?”

Terrance looks at her with an amused look. Then, he laughs happily as he picked her up and spun them around, being happy that she successfully erased the memories.

“It worked. It fucking worked!” he exclaims, kissing all over her face.

“Ah! What are you talking abo…..ooh.” she asked, but it cut off by a random sting behind her ears.

“Oh, my bad.” he says, placing her on the ledge before kneeling in front of her. “But….I think you saved us. You have to recover, that’s all. I’ll explain it to you when you’re healed.”

“…..should I be scared?” she whispers, looking at him.

“….depends on the long term side effects. Just be you as we do this as normal, okay?”

She nods, gently rubbing the back off her ears. He smiles kisses her forehead as a car pulls up to the house. Noticing who it is, he helps Valerie up, walking her into the house, as they pass Hen and Bill, who eyes her down.

Looking around the pink hue room, she takes in the familiar atmosphere as this is just another day for him and OuterMore.

Computers loading up, a massive suction bag to carry him out, everyone running around to make sure everything is ready to as the duo walk into the dining room, now an empty space with chairs, cameras, and microphones set up.

Almost like a production is about to take place and she’s just an extra in it.

“Sit back here. We’re about to begin.” he whispers, gesturing her to sit.

She obliges, adjusting herself as he hands her a wipe. Confused, she takes it, but instantly notices the dried blood all over her hands and wipes them off. He sends her a small smile before walking out the door to greet real Junior.

As she patiently waits, a group of OuterMore agents walk in, carrying something in a black plastic cover. Placing it in the center, they remove it, revealing an unconscious A.I. Junior lying, with his hands and ankles wrapped in chained metal bracelets, preventing him from moving.

She takes it all in, feeling bad for him that this was all just a planned stimulation as the real one lived in space.

“Hello, Valerie.” a familiar male voice greets her.

She looks up and notices that it was Bill, Terrance’s boss and the CEO of OuterMore, staring down at her. She sends a small smile to him.

“Nice to see you again, Bill.” she replied.

He nods before walking into a different room, wanting to watch from a distance.

A few minutes later, footsteps are heard walking through the door. Turning around, she sees real Junior walking, taking in A.I. Junior’s figure as Hen and Terrance walk behind him. A mini camera hovers over him as they got close, but Hen stays back, standing in the doorway.

“Hen?” asks A.I. Junior as he slowly wakes up, trying to map out what’s going on and move, but is immediately dragged down by the chains.

“Holy shit. It’s so fucking real.” said real Junior, looking at him in amazement.

He looks up, horrified that the person he replicates is standing in front of him, while having an audience watching.

“I know how you must be feeling, but I need you to stay calm.” said Terrance.

“No….no….” he said, trying to break free.

“I’m sorry that we deceived you, but it was the only way to test your full capacity and function.”

A.I. Junior looks at Valerie, who looks at him with sadness in her eyes.

“He’s not the replacement, Junior. Its you. This is Hen’s real husband.” he continued, pointing at real Junior.

“Where is she?! Hen! HEN!” he yells, not realizing she’s a few feet away.

“She’s safe. Standing by the doorway.”

“Is Valerie enjoying this? Watching you tear a marriage apart while she sits and does nothing?”

Terrance looks at Valerie, who looks down in shame, very uncomfortable that he mentions her. Hen looks at her, very angry.

“Who’s Valerie?” asked real Junior.

“My wife. Who has nothing to do with this. Just my support system.” said Terrance.

“She has a lot to do with it actually.” said Hen, who walks into the room.

“Or you’re just making up shit because you don’t like me.” said Valerie, who looks up immediately.

“Valerie, don’t.” said Terrance, but is instantly cut off by Hen.

“Oh, don’t fucking pretend you don’t know what you and him did just because my husband is back!”

“What is going on?” asked real Junior.

“A public psychosis.” said Valerie.

“Fuck you.” said Hen. “I know what I heard and you two can pretend it didn’t happen all you want! You guys are sick for bringing him into it.” Hen replied, pointing at A.I. Junior.

“I don’t know what she’s talking about, but I don’t appreciate being lied on in front of people right now and she’s pushing it.” she replied, getting up.

“People, we don’t need to get off the railings here. We’re all here to explain to him that everything he has done in the last two years was apart of his mission. How every memory was designed from what Junior told us before we implanted them, and every emotion is all from him.”

“You’re lying! Hen, tell him that he’s lying!” said A.I. Junior.

“Does that include you two engaging in sex with him? Hm? Or am I making that up?” asked Hen, getting in Terrance’s face, who backs up.

“Hen, are you okay? I never slept with him. I would never after he has insulted me numerous of times since we met!” yelled Valerie as she walks towards her.

Junior holds her back, with Valerie slapping his hands away, staring him down.

“Calm down.” he said.

“Or what? You’re gonna dismiss my feelings like you always have with her?! Because all of this here? Your fault for being a shitty husband! That’s why she had to fuck him while you were gone!”

Junior, with an appalled look, turns to Hen, who now has an exasperated expression on her face.

“…..you fucked him after you swore you wouldn’t?”

“Hen, please make it stop! He can’t take my spot!” yelled A.I. Junior, still attempting to break free.

“I thought we were genuinely getting along. Looks like I was wrong. You’re just another person who has to feed into someone’s needs to make them happy. And that’s why you two fucked him.” said Hen, looking at Valerie.

Valerie lets out a stifled laugh, rubbing her face as she sat back down, still laughing bewildered.

“Hen, did you drink too much or are you really that upset that he’s being shut off? Because where are you getting me and Terrance fucked him from?!” she asked.

Terrance turns his head to laugh, very amused that the memories did in fact erase from her mind as real Junior watches all of this unfold, just confused. Hen gets even more pissed, going to kneel by A.I. Junior.

“It was after you put me to sleep after we danced to Black Velvet! You told me to spend the day with him before he came home. I went to sleep and woke, hearing him moaning, with Terrance say something explicit to him. I fell asleep again, but woke up. I heard you get fucked by the both of them and you won’t admit it because you’re hiding him being bisexual as well.”

Valerie nods, completely intrigued by what she said before getting up, going to sit in one of the front row seats to face her as Terrance and real Junior watched.

“Wow, you definitely had too much to drink that night because what you just said is some of the most factious shit I have ever heard. This is probably you guys’ craziest assignment ever and now, this is probably the best one to end with before starting your new position, honey. Congratulations!” she said, clapping erratically.

“I’m glad you’re finding our pain humorous. But then again, you have nothing to lose anyway.” said Hen, looking down at A.I. Junior.

“I’m not laughing at your pain. I’m laughing at the fact that your marriage is so fried, you had to just make up shit to attempt to ruin not only mines, but cost him his job? Embarrassing. But let me clarify everything since you think you caught something.” said Valerie as she leans forward.

“Yes, he has had thoughts of sleeping with a man. Yes, I’m am attracted to women, hence why we tend to hook up with them. He hasn’t found one because he works too damn hard. And seriously, do you think he would just choose that to try it out with? Costing him everything? He’s not dumb, but clearly you are.”

“Watch it.” said real Junior.

“Let her be.” said Terrance.

“You wanna know what actually happened that night? After I put you to bed? I went to my bedroom, changed out of my dress, and was reading. They were doing another interview, which I thought was odd since it was pretty late, but didn’t say much. Suddenly, I hear this noise.”

She stomps her foot a few times, trying to mimic Junior punching holes in the wall.

“And he was throwing something around. I got worried, so I knocked on the door. My husband opens it, assuring everything was fine. But, I looked over his shoulder and see Junior laid up against wall, groaning as his knuckles were bleeding. That’s why he has those scars.”

Everyone looks at his hands, which confirms that he indeed has scars from that. He scoffs, not buying it.

“Then why did he say something explicit? And why were you moaning?” she asked.

“You must’ve heard him say “he was going fucking mad” then. Cause that’s what he said to me when I asked what happened to him. As for why I was moaning, you’re right. I was getting fucked……by him and him only. You were so drunk, you couldn’t comprehend that it was just me and him fucking, while Junior was passed out in the room. Which we left him there because we wasn’t sure if you wanted him next to you.”

“You’re lying. I just know you are.” said a tearful Hen.

“Well, we’ll see when the investigation is over.” said Terrance.

“What investigation?” asked Valerie.

“Oh, forgot to mention: she complained and Bill & OM have suspended me.”

“Of course. Of fucking course….” she said, crawling towards Hen.

“What are you doing?!” asked A.I. Junior.

“I’m not gonna do anything. I think it’s so foul that I had to put my business out there because of your intolerance to leaving.” she said, being face-to-face to Hen.

“Get away from me!” said Hen.

“No. Because I want you to feel how I’m feeling with how you have behaved towards not me, but Terrance since you agreed to do this program.”

“I didn’t want this! Never!” she yelled back, snapping her face towards her.

“You did. Because you hate it here. You want to explore and he doesn’t. You beg for your needs to be met and while replica has done a great job, real one won’t. You can’t make yourself walk out that door because you don’t know what’s he’s gonna do if you don’t come back. So tell me: why do you enjoy suffering like this?”

“Get away from her!” said A.I. Junior.

“Valerie, that’s enough.” said Terrance.

“No. No! I want to hear this because she’s fine with doing this to you.” said Valerie.

She slaps Hen, making everyone gasps as Terrance pulls her away, walking her out. Hen screams, grabbing her face while Junior tries to run at them, as Valerie continues yelling until he puts her in the car.

“What the hell was that?!” he asked, looking at her.

“She started it. And I finished it.”

“No. You made it worse and now, Bill is going to suspect something even more.”

“Let him! I don’t care anymore. I don’t ca…I don’t…” she said, before slowly drifting off.

“Valerie? What’s wrong? Talk to me.” he says, examining her by checking her pulse, stomach, and neck.

“I thin….i think I’m just tired. Just blew the rest of m…my energy.”

She rubs his face as she slowly falls asleep, exhausted from everything. He looks at her, places a blanket over before heading back inside, apologizing for her outburst before resuming everything.

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A few weeks later, Valerie and Terrance are in the car, patiently waiting to arrive to their destination.

Valerie, now fully recovered, looks out the window as Terrance finishes up his work before putting it in his suitcase.

“Do we have to visit them? Its our anniversary after all.” she said, breaking the silence.

“We have to. This is how the assignment always ends…..and the investigation closes.”

“Yeah, but why? She tried to ruin us and your job.”

“You assaulted her. You would’ve been home much sooner if you didn’t do that.”

“I was just trying to get back at her for her treatment towards you.” she mumbled.

“That’s not the way to go about it. You could’ve ended up being taken away.”

“Well, I’m still here and you still have a job. Can we move on now? This is not how I wanted to spend our anniversary.”

“You don’t have to get out the car. I’ll talk to them, which won’t be too long and then, we’ll be on our way to the headquarters.”

“Whatever…” she scoffed.

Terrance sighs, grabbing her hands and rubbing them.

“I promise the anniversary gift is worth the surprise in the end. Just be patient.” he said, kissing them.

Valerie removes her hands, ignoring him. He looks ahead, fearing that one of the long term effects might’ve gotten her: growing irritation.

A few minutes later, the car pulls up to Junior and Hen’s, parking in the front. The door unlocks and lifts up, with Terrance getting out and pushing it shut. He looks at her, shaking his head before walking to the porch.

She looks away, not wanting to look at him greet them. She takes out her book and begins reading, getting to the chapter where Lauren and her community are moving to a location owned by one of them.

“Cannot believe she actually slept with Bankole.” she mumbled, reading the page in front of her.

The door unlocks and lifts up again, with Terrance getting in, dragging it down to close it. He has an angry look, typing in the address to headquarters and waits for the car to move. He looks over at Valerie, who is still reading.

“She apologized.” he said, breaking the silence.

“Good for her.” she mumbled, not breaking her focus.

Terrance shakes his head as he laid back and closed, taking a nap as the car begins to move.

🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲

“Well, isn’t it my favorite married couple coming to see me.” said Bill as Terrance and Valerie walks into his office.

Terrance greets him with a handshake as Valerie takes in the massively room he resides in.

The wall of big windows that shows the inside of the labs below, from researching, running tests, creating new liquids, and the design of the replicas to assignments getting measured for their spacesuits stands behind his desk and brings light into his dark colored office.

Books spread out, files all over the table, a big clock tower in the corner, and numerous lab coats all over the furniture adds to the busy atmosphere at OuterMore, which concerns her even more for Terrance’s recent promotion.

“Very busy as you can tell.” said Bill, looking at her with a peculiar look.

“You’re not gonna strap me down like you did during the investigation?” she asks, staring him down.

Bill grimaces as Terrance looks at her, gesturing her to let it go. She walks towards his desk, taking a seat in one of the chairs.

“I understand you still hold some feelings about what happened, but I do apologize for causing a bit of harm than relief.” he replied, taking a seat in his chair as Terrance sits next to her.

“Hm…..I’ll let bygones be bygones if you explain what is this gift he keeps egging on about?” she said, looking over at Terrance.

“Well, I’ll gladly answer that.” said Bill, going through the pile of files before find one and putting it in front of him.

He opens it, examining the documents inside as Valerie and Terrance wait patiently, with the latter constantly looking over at her unawareness, smiling to himself.

“So….Valerie. The reason he brought you here today is because I have made his special request a reality as the perfect way to celebrate your anniversary. But, it is entirely up to you if you accept it.” said Bill, looking at her.

“Okay. So what is it?” she asked, slowly becoming irritated.

“Before I get into that, I wanted to run something real quick with Terrance that pertains to Valerie before the unfortunate accident.”

“……what is it?” asked Terrance, with a puzzled look on his face.

“If I remember correctly, you and her made some big decisions just incase things go awry during the mission.”

“Yeah?”

“While I did create a pregnancy program for any replicated female assignment who’s looking to start a family incase the real one passes away during the trip, I found something that would be quite easier with some adjustments.” he said, getting up to pull out a black folder that has an unrecognizable logo on the front.

“Okay, so what did you find?”

Bill looks at him, smiling a bit before opening the folder to read it as he walks back over.

“I know grief is something that will never go away and causes you to forget sometimes, but this was interesting. It appears that a few weeks before the mission, Valerie froze her eggs……” he said, handing the folder to Terrance.

“What?!” said Terrance, taking it out of his hands to read the file as Valerie looks at him with a stern look on his face.

“Yes. Valerie froze all of her eggs just incase something happened. That’s her signature and in the notes, it says that you were aware, supported her decision to be cautious.” Bill furthered explained.

“I-I….” he laughed in disbelief. “I can’t believe I forgot about her eggs, oh my god…” he said, rubbing his face as he continuously read the documents over.

“It’s okay. Luckily, I found it so I can suggest an easier option if she….” said Bill as he looks at Valerie, who looks away from Terrance.

Valerie looks down, feeling herself get nauseous as the men continued talking. Her vision becomes blurry, head begins to hurt as the stinging sensation , that had been unleashing inside her these last few weeks, returns, making her collapse to the ground in pain.

Terrance immediately rushes to her side, raising his hand towards Bill to stay back as he gently picks her up, rubbing her stomach as she attempts to catch her breath.

“Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.” he whispers, mimicking the motion of breathing in and breathing out.

As she inhaling and exhaling, memories she has never seen begins to play in her mind: Valerie and Terrance talking about the eggs and what she’s gonna do, her waiting nervously at fertility clinc, her getting her eggs removed while sedated, and recovering afterwards, with him taking care of her.

The sensation fades away, making her look at Terrance, who’s checking to make sure she’s okay.

“…..that’s what she wanted me to see.” she said weakly, rubbing his face.

“What? Who are you talking about?” he asks, gently sitting her up.

“…..Valerie. She wanted me to see her at the clinic, freezing her eggs. That’s the memory she wanted me to find…” she replied, slowly becoming teary eyed.

He looks at her, gently rubbing her legs as Bill, who watches immensely, takes notes of what she’s saying.

“You think it was a sign?” he asked, his voice slightly breaking.

“Yes. I think she wanted me to see it as her way of giving her approval to go through with fertilizing her eggs and finally having kids....” she said, breaking down immediately.

Soft cries fill the room as Terrance pulls her into his chest, consoling her. Bill, feeling like he shouldn’t be present during this moment, quietly leaves the room. After a few minutes, she looks up, sniffling as she wipes her red, swollen eyes.

“….I don’t think I want to go through it, Terrance.” she confesses, gently removing herself from his chest.

“Valerie, don’t do this.” he said, pulling her back.

“No, cause she’s suppose to be here, experiencing this. This is what she wanted and I’m just a replica of her.” she said, gently pushing him back.

“Don’t say that!” he exclaimed, holding her hands.

“You always dreamed of having kids. I see the way you look at babies, watching children play, you browsing baby outfits while we’re out shopping, even you crying at little kid characters in films and shows. You definitely been waiting to be a mom and you wanna throw that away because you feel like you’re taking something away from her?” he asked, tears filling up in his eyes.

“…yes. This is something so special that you two hoped to experience when she was done with her mission. And it just doesn’t feel right. I don’t know if I’m just terrified of going through it or it just won’t work and I just don’t….” she replied, exhaling loud at the last part.

“Valerie. How long have we been married for?” he asks.

“…..9 years as of today.”

“And how long have you been living as her?”

“….5.”

“You had enough time to adjust to being her permanently. That’s something most of our replicas will never experience, unless a tragedy happens. I will never get over her death, but I also know she would want me to be happy and move on, never forgetting her. Which is why you’re here, still standing. And that’s something you should be proud of, Val.” he said as he cries, squeezing her hands.

“We go through things that every married couple go through and while some don’t make it, we did. It’s okay to be terrified of doing this. But you’re not alone.” he said, rubbing his head against hers.

“And if it fails, we’ll try again until we can’t anymore. I’m not leaving your side and will step in if I sense something is off. Even if I have to fight.”

“Don’t say that.” she whispers.

“They already made you uncomfortable a few times, I don’t give a damn.” he replied, making both of them laugh.

“Okay, you can have control this time.”

“I better. Cause you about to be on bedrest, carrying my baby. Or should I say…..babies!” he replied, kissing all over her face, make them fall over.

Valerie smiles, passionately kissing him as they laid over on the floor. He breaks the kiss, catching his breath as he looks at her, taking in her beauty.

“I’m assuming that’s a yes?” he asked, eyeing her.

“…..what are they gonna do to me?” she asked.

“Well. While the eggs unfreeze, they have to install like an incubator-like machine to act like a uterus for the babies inside you.”

“…..can I get removed afterwards?”

“Yeah. You don’t have to keep it if you don’t want to re-experience menstrual cycles or have more kids.”

“Thank god. Wait, does Bill do…..”

“No. Our women associates are only allowed to do that. He made that a priority in the policy in case one of the male lab workers messes up.”

Valerie laid back, thought about her decision for a few more moments as Terrance waited patiently for her answer, hoping she makes the right choice.

“……fine. I’ll do it.” she said, smiling a bit.

“That’s my girl.” he whispered, kissing her.

🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲

A year passes, with Valerie and Terrance lying in bed, asleep. She wakes up, quietly stretching her arms as she looks at the clock.

7:18 AM.

“Damn, I’m up early.” she mumbled before yawning, turning to look at Terrance.

He laid sound asleep, with no shirt on. Just as she liked it. She gently traces over his face, not trying to wake him up as she scoots closer to him, lying on his chest. She kisses it gently, hearing him grunt a bit in his sleep.

“Come on. Wake up for me…” she whispers, placing kisses all over his chest.

He smiles before wrapping his arms around her and flipping them, with him being between her legs as she laid on the bed. He opens his eyes, looking at her with admiration before kissing her.

“You think you were something by teasing me like that?” he asked, rubbing her hips.

“I was missing your attention…” she whines, batting her eyelashes.

“At 7 in the morning?”

”Yeah? You see how fine you are?”

Terrance chuckles, trailing his hands towards her neck, wrapping them around it and pulling her close to him, making her gasp.

“I wanna fuck you so bad right now.” he said, pecking her mouth. “But you just got that incubator removed.”

“I mean…..they don’t have to know.” she said, kissing him back.

“I’m not causing you more pain down there.” he said, gently laying her back down, making her sigh.

“I can survive a fucking, you know?”

“After having our bundles of joy? Absolutely not!”

She turns away, playfully moving away from him. He pulls back, cuddling her as he kisses all over her neck, making her laugh.

“Oh, now you wanna love on me as I’m trying to get away from you!” she said, trying to pull away from him.

“I just don’t wanna break you. Even though..”

He kisses her chest, making his way to her arm as she holds back her moans, sensitive to his lips.

“These extra curves they put on you is tempting.” he added, kissing her side before trailing towards her thigh, placing a few kisses on it.

Suddenly, a baby’s cry fills the sound in the room, making the both of them groan, knowing day…..whatever number of parenthood is beginning soon.

“Told you she was gonna wake up first.” said Valerie, smiling at him.

“So Teyana takes after you after all!” he replied, earning a slap across his chest.

“Mama’s mini me, dada’s first name similarity.” she responded, sticking her tongue out.

He rolls his eyes, getting up to get their awaken child. Then, a second baby’s cry joins the first one with filling in the sound, making Terrance and Valerie laugh.

“And there goes Valen.” said Valerie.

“Probably wanted to sleep in if it wasn’t for his sister.” Terrance said sarcastically, walking out of the room.

“He takes after you after all!” Valerie replied sarcastically.

A few minutes later, the crying stops. Terrance walks back in, carrying their four month old twins, Valen and Teyana, in each of his arms, both cooing and looking around their surroundings. Valerie looks in awe, smiling that their babies came out not only healthy, but a perfect mixture of the both of them.

“Which one you want, baby?” asked Terrance, rocking the twins carefully.

“Hand me my oldest.” she replied, holding her arms out.

Terrance walks towards her and hands Teyana to her, which she gently takes out of his hold, placing her on her chest. which makes her smiles.

“Morning, my pretty girl.” she said in a baby voice, making Teyana coo as Terrance and Valen lay next to them.

“Slept well, youngin?” Terrance asked Valen, who is lying against his lap, moving around a bit.

Valen smiled, flashing his gummy smirk at his dad, who smiles back at him. Valerie gently lays next to him, lying Teyana against her lap. The twins interact with each other, making baby calls that only they know and their parents laugh at.

“Hey Terrance?” asked Valerie.

“Hm?” said Terrance as he looks at her.

“….thank you.” she replied, kissing him.

“For what?”

“…..for giving me a family.” she replied, holding back tears.

Terrance smiles, watching her interact with their children as he reminisces the day he met Valerie three days after real Valerie’s death….his heart beating a little faster.

🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲

A/N II: Sorry for being a little late with publishing this. I’ve been busy with work and was fighting for my life in that Canvas Beauty Black Friday PreSale Live (got all the products I wanted!). Happy Thanksgiving!

Taglist: @urfavblackbimbo @blyffe @literallegendicon @kimuzostar @dionpierre

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