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dollgxtz · 1 day

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His Watchful Eye Pt. 6

Word Count: 15.k...(oops)

Tags: yandere!sylus, sylus x fem!reader, dubcon, vaginal sex, creampie, breeding, comfort sex, cunnilingus, overstimulation if you squint, mentions of murder, nightmares, manipulation, pet names like, kitten, sweetie, honey, tw for panic attacks, rape flashbacks, xavier appears

Taglist: @ngh-ch-choso-ahhhh, @eliasxchocolate, @nozomiaj, @xmiisuki, @sylus-kitten, @its-regretti , @m0onlustre , @ve1vet-cake, @letgobro, @starkeysslvt, @yarafic, @prince-nikko, @leiaglmela @connorsui, @iluvmewwwww75, @biggest-geo-oogami-enjoyer, @mysssticc, @babygirl-panda19, @someone-somewheres-stuff, @zaynesjasmine1, @honnylemontea, @altariasu, @the-slytherin-poet, @sorryimakira, @pearlymel, @emidpsandia , @angel-jupiter, @hwangintakswifey,

AN: Hi everyone! This is also on A03! Please someone stop me, how the hell did I manage to squeeze in like 4k extra words than last time??? Anyways, enjoy the meal, I definitely have missed writing smut with yan!sylus and reader :3. Also a gentle reminder that reader has no specific skin tone! I just use images that I think represent the chapter well, you can imagine her however you’d like ^^

"I'll make it all disappear," Sylus murmured, his voice low and hypnotic, penetrating the darkest recesses of your fractured psyche. It was as if he possessed the power to reach inside your mind and vaporize the painful memories that clung to you like shackles. "You want to feel so good you won't think about him again?"

Read Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4 Pt. 5

The car roars down the empty road, its tires devouring the distance between freedom and your inevitable return to captivity. Luke sits at the wheel, his face completely hidden behind the bird shaped mask. You can’t see his eyes, can’t gauge anything from the way he’s holding himself—just the silent, unyielding presence of the man steering you back to your prison.

You wonder how he sees out of that thing.

Kieran sits beside him, his mask just the same, his fingers tapping a light, almost carefree rhythm on the dashboard as he finishes humming a cheery tune. His face, too, is entirely concealed, leaving you with nothing to hold onto—no eyes to search for clues, no expressions to read.

In the rearview mirror, you sense Kieran shift his head to look at you but can't entirely tell, his hidden gaze offers you nothing. The silence stretches on, broken only by the low hum of the engine and the steady, deliberate breaths of Sylus against your neck, the heat of his body keeping you trapped in more ways than one.

Sylus holds you tight, as if the moment he loosens his grip, you’ll dissolve into the darkness beyond the windows. His large hands are splayed possessively across your thighs, pinning you in place on his lap. Each minute that ticks by in this confined space feels like a countdown to something you can’t define, but the feeling of impending dread settles deep in your bones.

Your mind is a storm, thoughts swirling in an endless, chaotic loop. The gunshot that ended Reese’s life thunders in your head, over and over, refusing to let you go. You can still see it so clearly—the way his body slumped to the floor, lifeless, his eyes wide with the shock of it all.

It feels like it’s eating you alive.

This is your fault.

Yes, Reese was a monster. He’d kidnapped you, lied to you, dragged you into a nightmare you never deserved. But even now, that part of you—the part that still clung to honor, to a sense of right and wrong, the part of an honorable deep space hunter—hated what had happened. You hated yourself for it. He should have been locked away, brought to justice, not gunned down like that.

Your chest tightens. Why didn’t you stop it? You could have, couldn’t you? You didn’t have to let your anger take over, didn’t have to spit those words at him, didn't have to tell him to go to hell. If you hadn’t done that, Sylus wouldn’t have killed him right? The weight of it presses down on you, like you’re suffocating under the guilt.

You can feel it in your bones—the sharp sting of your failure, the way you let your emotions run wild. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. You weren’t supposed to be the reason a person died, no matter how twisted or evil they were. You were supposed to be better than that.

But you weren’t.

And now Reese’s blood is on your hands.

The guilt coils tighter around your chest. You can almost taste the bitterness of it on your tongue, a relentless reminder of how you failed. Maybe if you had just kept your mouth shut. Maybe if you had found some way, any way, to de-escalate the situation, he’d still be alive. You wouldn't have to carry the weight of his death.

But you didn’t. And now it’s too late.

This is your fault.

You feel tears begin to prick at the corners of your eyes, but you quickly suck in a breath, forcing them back. You can’t let them fall—not here, not now. You can’t let Sylus see the storm raging inside you. If he sees you faltering, sees your weakness, he’ll think he’s won.

You sense his eyes on you, watching, studying, but thankfully, he says nothing. His grip around you tightens slightly, as if he’s aware of the cracks forming in your resolve, but for once, he stays silent, leaving you alone with the war you’re fighting within yourself.

Instead of crying, you shift, turning your head to focus on the window. The dark tint makes it difficult to see clearly, but not impossible. You can just make out the blurred outlines of buildings as they whip past, vague shadows in the distance.

How much longer would this take? How far had you come?

You think back to the agonizing walk that had led you to the convenience store—the endless hours of trudging through unfamiliar streets, hoping for an escape. Time had lost all meaning then, just like it had now.

Lost in your thoughts, you feel your body betraying you, your exhaustion creeping in. You start to drift off against your will, feeling the heaviness pulling at your eyelids as you sink further into Sylus’s lap. You fight it, not wanting to rest your head on his chest, fearing what you might wake up to. But it’s been days since you’ve had proper rest, and the pull of sleep is relentless.

Minutes stretch into eternity, and despite your best efforts, your body begins to give in. You’re teetering on the edge of unconsciousness when suddenly, Sylus’s gruff voice cuts through the silence, startling you awake.

“Luke, tell the chefs to have dinner ready in an hour. Kieran, cancel my meeting with the general.”

Luke and Kieran both nod silently, their masked faces giving nothing away, and just as you’re trying to make sense of the words, the car abruptly comes to a stop.

“Yes, boss!” the twins respond with a clipped tones, as if this exchange is routine.

Everything happens so quickly. The moment the car parks, Luke and Kieran scramble out of their seats with swift, practiced efficiency. The sound of the doors opening and shutting echoes in the quiet night. Sylus shifts beneath you, opening his door, and you awkwardly slide off his lap, trying to maintain some semblance of balance as he exits the vehicle. You watch through strained, weary eyes as he steps out, his figure towering over the open car door. Then, he stretches out his hand toward you.

You hesitate.

The gesture, though outwardly polite, is anything but friendly. It’s not an offer—it’s a command, an unspoken reminder of your captivity. The world seems to close in around you, the air growing thicker, and your heart begins to pound in your chest. Your mind races, but there’s nowhere to run.

“If you’re thinking about driving off,” Sylus says with a low chuckle, leaning down to peer into the car, “Luke’s already got the keys, kitten.”

You can’t help but shoot him a sharp glare. You’d thought about running, yes, but not now—not when escape was utterly impossible. The moment passes quickly, and you open your mouth, wanting to explain yourself, to insist you weren’t planning anything. But the words stick in your throat, useless.

Instead, you shut your mouth, swallowing your frustration, and glare at him in defiance. Wordlessly, you reach out and take his hand. His grip is firm, possessive, as he helps you out of the car. Carefully, you step onto the ground, your heart still racing, knowing you’re walking back into your cage.

You glance around as Sylus pulls you forward, your hand still trapped in his. The sight of the mansion looms ahead, its grand, imposing silhouette becoming clearer with each step. Tall iron gates and bird statues loom in front of you, a place that might have been beautiful if it weren’t for the dread curling deep in your chest.

The mansion is more than just a building; it’s a cage, one that now feels even more suffocating as Sylus forces you to walk beside him, hand in hand like you’re something precious. But you know better. This is control, a quiet but undeniable display of power.

With each step toward the front door, the walls of the world seem to close in tighter, and your heart races faster. The echoes of your own footsteps blend with the eerie silence of the night, the only sound that reminds you how very trapped you are in this place—never truly alone, but never free either.

As you walk toward the towering front doors, your eyes drift upward, almost unconsciously, to Sylus. His appearance has always been striking—red eyes that seem to glow with a mix of malice and amusement, and white hair with subtle gray undertones, catching the faint light of the mansion. His angular features, so sharp and perfectly controlled, show signs of wear now. You can see the tension in his brow, the tiredness in the slight creases around his eyes—things you hadn’t noticed before. It makes you wonder how much stress your escape had caused him. How much had he sacrificed in the time you were gone? Had he been frantic, furious?

As if sensing your gaze, Sylus turns his head slightly, catching you in the act of studying him. A smirk plays across his lips, and his crimson eyes flicker with amusement. "What’s the matter? Falling in love?" His voice is a low drawl, teasing, but there’s something predatory in it—like he’s already enjoying this little game.

Heat rises to your face, a mixture of irritation and something else you refuse to name. You look away quickly, forcing yourself to focus on anything but him. His taunts are the last thing you want to entertain, especially when your mind is still spinning with the weight of what lies ahead. Still, the words linger, taunting you as much as his smirk did.

Finally, the massive front doors loom before you, framed by the same wrought iron and heavy stone that always made the mansion feel more like a fortress. Sylus stops, standing tall beside you, his hand still gripping yours as if to remind you that escape, or even defiance, is out of the question.

He gestures toward a small panel embedded into the wall near the door. "Lean down," he orders, the edge of his voice soft yet commanding, "in front of the scanner."

Confused, you glance between him and the scanner, unsure of what he’s planning. You hesitate, but his unblinking red gaze locks onto you, expectant, leaving you little choice. Slowly, you lean forward, lowering yourself until your eyes are aligned with the scanner. A soft beep fills the air, followed by a click as the door unlocks.

You straighten, startled, staring at the door in disbelief. "Wait," you stammer, turning to Sylus. "Aren’t you trying to prevent me from escaping?"

A deep, rumbling laugh escapes him, and he shakes his head, the white strands of his hair shifting slightly as he leans in closer, his red eyes flashing with amusement. "Your eyes," he says with a grin, "can only get you into this place." He leans in further, his breath warm against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. "Not out."

His words settle heavily in your chest, and a knot of dread tightens in your stomach. Your eyes—the very thing that could open doors here—were also the key to locking you in. Any hope you might have had, any fleeting thought of escape, is crushed in that moment. The world seems to warp, the walls of the mansion now looming around you like a trap. A cage disguised as opulence.

Why had he even bothered with something like that? The thought gnaws at you as you stand at the threshold of the mansion. Did he seriously think you would ever want to come back inside? The idea seems absurd. You were his captive, forced into this nightmare. There was no version of this where you willingly returned.

But as you glance back at him, his smirk still lingering on his face, you wonder if that’s exactly what he wants. He’s a man who thrives on control, on bending people to his will, and the thought that he might relish the idea of making you come back to this place, on your own terms, sends a shiver down your spine. Would he leave you out there in that desolate city, waiting, desperate, only to watch you break down and crawl back inside? The idea feels like a twisted game only he could design—where escape was impossible not just because of physical barriers, but because he'd burrowed deep into your mind.

You shake your head, trying to push the thought away, but the question lingers, settling like a weight in your chest. Did he think that, over time, you’d surrender? That this grand mansion, this cage, would eventually become a place you’d walk into willingly?

Sylus catches your hesitation, his red eyes glinting in the low light. “Strange, isn’t it?” he muses, his voice smooth and casual, as if he could read the questions racing through your mind. “A key that only lets you in. But maybe someday…you'll want to use it.”

His words hang in the air, and you can feel your pulse quicken, anger mixing with the uncertainty swirling inside you. He can’t seriously believe that, can he? That one day you’d walk back into this place of your own accord?

The very thought of it makes your stomach turn. You can’t imagine a future where you wouldn’t fight tooth and nail to stay away from here. Yet, there’s an unsettling confidence in the way he says it, a certainty that leaves you with more questions than answers.

“As if I would ever, prick,” you spat, your voice sharp and defiant.

Sylus laughs, his amusement rolling off him in deep waves, rich and unhurried. His red eyes gleam, locking onto yours with a look that holds something deeper than mere satisfaction. There’s affection there—twisted, yes, but genuine.

“Ah, there she is,” he murmurs, his grin widening. “I was starting to wonder if the N109 Zone had fully broken you.” His grip tightens, not painfully, but firm and reassuring, as he leads you into the grand mansion. To him, this was always meant to be your home, even if you couldn't see it yet.

You grimace at his words, irritation bubbling up inside you, making your heart race. This was still a game to him—a challenge, but not one born of cruelty. No, he found your defiance amusing, like a kitten batting at the hand that feeds it. He loved it, even.

You silently curse him under your breath as he leads you deeper into the grand house, your feet moving mechanically while your mind fights to keep up. The familiar sights come back into view, flooding your senses like a slow wave of nausea. The glossy black tile beneath your feet, the dark, lavish décor that loomed from every corner—it was all the same, just as cold and suffocating as you remembered.

Your eyes flick to the kitchen entryway, a place that had once offered a glimmer of hope, a chance to escape. You remember fleeing into it, heart racing, desperate to get away from all of this, only to be dragged back into Sylus’s grip. The memory gnaws at you, bringing a fresh wave of bitterness.

It makes you sick.

Every inch of this place, every dark aesthetic, seemed designed to remind you of your captivity. This was a cage, no matter how opulent or luxurious it appeared on the surface. And the worst part was the weight of his hand around yours—the possessiveness of his grip, the unspoken reminder that escape, no matter how hard you tried, was out of reach right now.

Sylus gently guides you toward the stairs, his grip still firm, giving you no room to hesitate. You feel your heart pounding in your chest as your feet start moving up the dark, winding staircase. Every step feels heavier than the last, your pulse thrumming in your ears as memories flood back—memories of when you had fled, heart racing, legs burning, desperate to escape this place. You’d made it down these very stairs once before, only to have freedom ripped away from you.

Now, you were being forced back up, step by agonizing step, into the room you had fought so hard to leave behind.

With every step upward, your resolve starts to crumble. The closer you get to that door, the more you feel the weight of your captivity settling in again, suffocating you. The darkened hallways, the oppressive silence—it all presses down on you, reminding you that no matter how much you fight, this is where you’ll always end up. Trapped.

You hesitate when you finally reach the door to the bedroom. The sight of it makes your stomach twist, your feet glued to the floor as a wave of dread washes over you. Everything in your body screams not to go inside, not to let yourself be locked in that room again. To run, to fight.

But Sylus is right behind you, close enough that you can feel his presence, his breath warm and steady, almost unnervingly calm. His grip on your hand softens, his thumb tracing a slow circle against your skin, as if to soothe your frayed nerves. “It’s okay,” he murmurs, his voice gentle but laced with that unsettling authority. “Go on, sweetie.”

The way he says it is almost tender, but it only deepens the knot of anxiety in your chest. You can’t tell if it’s real kindness or just another layer of control. That soft, coaxing tone… it unnerves you more than his laughter, more than his taunts.

Despite every fiber of your being wanting to resist, you find yourself moving, stepping forward under the weight of his quiet insistence. You cross the threshold into the room, your body betraying you even as your mind screams to stop. The door clicks shut behind you with an almost imperceptible finality, and just like that, the familiar four dark walls of your prison close in around you once more.

You fight back the tears burning at the edges of your eyes as you step further into the room. The familiar surroundings feel like a punch to the gut—the large, imposing bed where Sylus had forced himself on you many many times, leaving behind scars you hadn’t realized had cut so deep. The leather couch in the center of the room, cold and impersonal, where you’d sat, waiting for the next wave of control to sweep over your life.

It’s too much.

For a moment, your knees threaten to buckle beneath you, the weight of it all pressing down with crushing force. The memories—dark, suffocating—swirl around you, making it hard to breathe. You almost crumble right there, unable to withstand the flood of emotions, of trauma that suddenly feels too close to the surface.

But before you can collapse, Sylus is there, his hand wrapping around your arm, guiding you away from the room and into the bathroom. His touch is firm but oddly gentle, a contrast that makes you even more uneasy. He’s pulling you toward the tiled space, and your mind races, trying to understand what’s happening as he begins to carefully, methodically, lift up your shirt to undress you.

“No,” you whisper, your voice trembling, barely audible over the sound of your own racing heartbeat. Your body goes stiff, your hands gripping the fabric of your shirt as if holding onto it could somehow protect you. “No,” you repeat, a little louder this time, your voice shaky and uneven. The tremors wrack your body, panic rising in your chest.

Sylus looks at you with something akin to worry, his touch slowing, but not stopping. He doesn’t force you, but his actions continue with a sense of inevitability, as though he believes this is just part of taking care of you, of ensuring you’re where you belong.

"I'm not going to do anything to you now, you just need a shower, sweetie."

But your mind is somewhere else entirely.

Flashes of memory assault you—dim lights, the scent of damp stone, and the overpowering fear of when you were in that basement. The man who had tried to force himself on you, who had pressed you against the bed with a hunger that still made your skin crawl. Your breath hitches as you remember his hands, his twisted smile. The terror, the helplessness—it's all too real, crashing down on you like a tidal wave.

You hadn’t realized just how deeply the trauma had sunk into you. Not until this moment, with Sylus standing in front of you, touching your clothes, his touch too familiar, too close to the horror you’d endured. You had been holding your emotions back but you couldn't now.

You flinch, your body recoiling instinctively as the memories close in around you. Your voice cracks, barely holding back the sob building in your throat. “Please…don’t.”

Sylus’s hands pause, and for the first time that entire day, you see it,—hesitation flickering across his sharp features. His red eyes, usually so calculating and cold, soften just enough for you to notice. His grip loosens, his fingers no longer working to take off your clothes but instead resting lightly on your shoulders, as if afraid of causing more harm.

“Be still,” he says again, his voice quiet and strangely tender. “I’m just trying to help you.”

But his words barely register. The panic has already set in, tightening around your chest like a vice. Your breathing grows shallow, quick—too quick. Your thoughts scatter, your heartbeat hammering so hard it feels like your ribcage might shatter under the pressure. The room spins around you, and suddenly you’re not here anymore. You’re back in the basement, cold stone beneath your feet, that man’s hands on your skin, forcing you against the wall. Forcing you on the bed.

You gasp for air, but each breath comes in ragged, uneven bursts. Your vision blurs, and your knees wobble beneath you. It’s happening all over again. The helplessness, the terror. It’s like your body has been pulled back into that moment, and no matter how much you try to claw your way out, you can’t.

Sylus moves swiftly, pulling you into his arms before you can collapse. His embrace is strong and grounding, his chest solid against your trembling form. “Breathe, sweetie” he whispers, his voice low, soothing, as if trying to coax you back from the edge of your panic. His hand rubs slow circles on your back, the gentle rhythm fighting against the chaos inside you. “It’s okay. I’ve got you. Just breathe.”

But you can’t. The air won’t come. Your breaths are sharp and shallow, your body on the verge of shutting down as you feel the world slipping away. You struggle, pushing weakly at him, but his arms only tighten around you, holding you firmly in place, anchoring you.

“Shhh, shhh…” His voice drops even lower, soft and almost tender. “I’m not going to hurt you. You’re safe.”

The warmth of his body presses against yours, his presence somehow steadying the storm inside you. You eventually cling to him, not because you want to, but because it’s the only thing that keeps you from spiraling into complete panic. His hand continues to stroke your back in slow, measured motions, and though your heart still pounds in your chest, his touch starts to break through the suffocating fog.

“I’ll turn around, okay?” he says gently, as if sensing the root of your fear. “You can undress yourself. I won’t watch.”

There’s something in his tone—something that feels honest, reassuring, like he’s not just saying the words to control you but because he wants you to feel safe. You weakly nod, barely, but he catches it. He loosens his grip and takes a slow step back, raising his hands in surrender, his red eyes locked onto yours.

“I’ll give you some time. You don’t have to rush.”

With a careful turn, he faces away from you, his broad back filling the room but no longer imposing. His actions aren’t threatening; they’re deliberate, giving you the space he knows you need.

Your breathing slows and you blink back tears, but your body still trembles. You wipe the remaining tears from your eyes with a shaky hand, glancing around the bathroom as the panic begins to ebb. And then you notice it—something is different.

The bathtub is gone.

It had been there before, you remember. A large, ornate tub that had taken up the corner of the bathroom, a symbol of something luxurious in this prison of yours. But now, it’s nowhere to be seen. Your brows knit together in confusion as you stare at the empty space.

“Where’s the tub?” you ask, your voice hoarse, barely above a whisper.

Sylus doesn’t turn around, but his response is quick and calm, as if he expected the question. “I had it removed,” he says softly, his voice strangely careful, almost cautious. “I didn’t want you to drown yourself again.”

The words hit you like a slap, sharp and unexpected. You freeze, your heart skipping a beat as the weight of what he’s saying sinks in. He thought…no, he knew. He knew how deep the darkness inside you could go, how close you’d come to actually dying. He’d taken precautions—not just to keep you here, but to keep you alive.

You stand there, frozen, staring at the empty space where the bathtub used to be, and the reality sinks in—there’s truly no escape. Not from this place, not from Sylus, and not from the relentless grip of your own mind. He’s stripped you of every option, every avenue, until there’s nothing left but this.

Nothing left but him.

The exhaustion presses down on you, heavier than ever before. With slow, mechanical movements, you step into the shower, your limbs feeling distant, as if they don’t belong to you anymore. The warm water hits your skin, but it does nothing to ease the weight in your chest. You close your eyes, hoping that the steady stream of water can drown out the chaos inside your head—the panic, the hopelessness, the memories.

But they cling to you, stubborn and unyielding.

Images flash behind your closed eyelids—memories of that basement, the cold stone walls pressing in, the terror that gripped you when the man came too close, his hands reaching, his breath sour. You press your hands against the tiled wall, your body shaking as you fight the memories back, but they keep coming, like waves crashing over you, dragging you under.

And then there’s Reese.

You can’t stop seeing it—the moment his body hit the floor, the sound of the fatal gunshot echoing in your mind like a haunting refrain. His face, twisted in shock and pain. Your fault. The words circle in your mind like a dark mantra, mixing with the trauma of that basement. It’s all tangled together, and no matter how hard you try, you can’t make it stop.

"Go to hell, Reese."

The water cascades down your back, but it doesn’t wash away the guilt. It doesn’t drown out the horror. The images of blood and brain matter sliding down concrete walls.

You press your forehead against the cold tile, letting the water soak through your hair as you fight the rising tide of emotion threatening to overwhelm you. You want to believe that there’s a way out, some form of freedom—maybe not from this mansion, but at least from the grip of your own mind. But right now, standing under the relentless stream of water, you know that freedom is further away than ever.

No matter how much you fight it, you’re trapped. Inside this house. Inside yourself.

And the worst part? Sylus knows it.

You feel the tears begin to well up, hot and uncontainable, spilling over before you even realize you’ve let them go. They mix with the water, disappearing beneath the steady stream of the shower, unseen, unclaimed by anyone but you. For the first time in what feels like forever, no one is watching. Not even Sylus.

You let the sobs come quietly, your body trembling as the tears fall, merging with the warm cascade. It’s a strange relief, knowing that in this moment, he isn’t witnessing your breaking point. Sylus had made it clear—your pain, your misery, your tears, they all belonged to him.

But right now, this moment is yours.

As the tears fall silently, you press your forehead against the cool tile, letting yourself cry in a way you hadn’t allowed before. The sobs are shaky, barely audible over the sound of the water, but they are real, raw, and they are yours alone. The stream washes them away before they have the chance to leave a trace, like they never existed at all.

Even as your heart aches and the trauma still weighs you down, there’s a strange comfort in the tears that go unnoticed. For just these few minutes, you aren’t his broken thing to fix or keep. You’re just a person, trying to survive, trying to breathe.

And even though the water doesn’t drown out all the pain or the memories, it gives you enough space to let the emotions pour out—if only for a little while.

Xavier’s breath came in shallow bursts as he navigated the empty streets of Linkon City, the familiar hum of his hunter’s watch glowing faintly on his wrist. His blue eyes flicked between the road and the holographic screen hovering just above the watch face. The blue light illuminated his face, highlighting the sharp focus in his eyes. The signal from the phone booth was still there, blinking steadily. That was his main lead—the last place you’d been before everything went silent.

His mind replayed the sound of your voice from the call, every word etched into his memory. Kidnapped. You hadn’t said much, but the panic in your tone had been unmistakable. The moment the call cut, something in him snapped. There was no hesitation, no second thought—he had left almost immediately, speeding through the city, your trembling words echoing in his head.

"Yeah, his name is S—"

Your words echoed in Xavier's mind, over and over, like a haunting refrain. You hadn’t been able to finish your sentence before the call had abruptly cut out, leaving him with nothing but that single, meaningless syllable. S. It replayed in his head as the car sped forward, finally breaking free from the limits of Linkon City and onto the dark, winding road that would lead him toward the N109 Zone.

He had tried to call back the second the line went dead, his hands trembling as he frantically redialed the number, but it was no use. The call wouldn’t connect. Maybe you had run out of money for the payphone. Maybe something far worse had happened.

The not knowing gnawed at him.

Who was S? The question had burned in his mind from the moment you said it. A name. It had to be a name. But just that one letter wasn’t enough to figure out who this person was, let alone why they had taken you. He cursed under his breath, gripping the steering wheel tighter as the dark road stretched out before him.

Whoever S was, they were dangerous enough to bring you to the N109 Zone. That part made his blood run cold. This place wasn’t just desolate—it was the kind of area that most people in the city pretended didn’t even exist. It was lawless, forgotten. A place where the desperate went to disappear, where the city’s darkness festered beneath the surface and on top of it, darkness everywhere you turn.

But why there? What did this S want with you? And why take you so far from the city?

He replayed the phone call in his mind again, your voice shaky but steady as you’d tried to tell him what had happened. The fear had been there, simmering just beneath your words, but you had clearly fought to stay calm.

Xavier’s heart pounded harder with every mile. There was something else that bothered him, something gnawing at the edges of his mind. Why had you been targeted? You were strong, capable—smart. One of the best deep space hunters around. You wouldn’t have let yourself be taken easily. That meant whoever S was, he’d planned this, thought it through, and knew how to get to you. That thought made Xavier’s stomach twist. This wasn’t random. It was calculated.

The car hit a bump in the road, jolting him back to the present, but his mind still raced. He needed to find you, needed to get to you before this S—whoever he was—did something unforgivable. He couldn’t stand the thought of you being out there, scared and alone, waiting for help that felt too far away.

He glanced at the holographic display on his hunter’s watch again, watching as the faint signal pulsed from the N109 Zone. It wasn’t much of a lead, but it was the best lead he had. That phone booth, that single clue you’d left him before the call ended, was his only connection to you now.

Who are you, S? The question echoed in his mind as he pressed down harder on the gas pedal, the car roaring down the empty highway.

He didn’t know what awaited him in the N109 Zone, but he knew one thing for sure: he was prepared to fight like hell for you.

After what felt like an eternity, buildings whipping past him, Xavier finally pulled up to the phone booth, his heart hammering in his chest. The headlights illuminated the cracked pavement and the battered glass of the booth, standing alone at the edge of the desolate lot like a ghost from another time. But of course, you weren’t there. The booth was empty. You were nowhere to be found.

Xavier’s grip tightened on the steering wheel as he sat there for a moment, staring at the empty phone booth. His mind raced, thoughts tangled in frustration and fear. You had told him you would call back—you had said you were going to that strange man’s house, and then you’d come back to tell him what it looked like. But now, standing there in the middle of the N109 Zone, it felt like that plan had shattered into a thousand pieces.

He stepped out of the car, the cold air hitting him like a slap to the face as he approached the booth. His eyes scanned the area, up and down, looking for any sign of you. But there was nothing. Just silence. The eerie kind that made his stomach twist with unease.

The booth was run-down, even worse up close. He stared at it, his thoughts flickering between panic and regret. Should he wait for you to come back, as you said you would? Or had something already gone terribly wrong? Every second that passed felt like a ticking clock, time slipping away, leaving him more uncertain than ever.

He leaned against the booth, raking a hand through his hair, trying to decide. You had been so determined—so sure you could handle this. You’d said you were going to check out this strange man’s house, get some rest, and then return. But the thought of you going there alone, to that man—whoever he was—made him sick.

I should’ve told you not to go with him.

The regret hit him hard, twisting deep in his chest. He should’ve been more forceful, should’ve stopped you. The second you’d mentioned this man, this stranger who had somehow convinced you to follow him, alarm bells had gone off in his head. He had sensed something wasn’t right. Why hadn’t he told you to stay away? Why hadn’t he made sure you didn’t go?

But you were strong, capable—you had always been stubborn, determined to handle things on your own. And he had trusted you to do that. But now…now you were missing. And he was standing in an empty lot with no idea where you were or who had taken you.

Xavier clenched his fists, staring at the phone booth as if willing it to give him answers. The last place you had been. He thought about turning around, driving through the N109 Zone, checking every corner, every building. But the reality of how vast and dangerous this area was made him hesitate. He didn’t even know who to look for. S. The mysterious man whose name had been cut off by the phone’s disconnect. That wasn’t enough.

Xavier’s stomach growled, pulling him from the fog of his frantic thoughts. He hadn’t eaten properly in hours, and the adrenaline that had been fueling him was finally wearing thin. He gritted his teeth, the pang of hunger a sharp reminder of just how long it had been since he’d stopped moving. He didn’t want to waste time, but he knew he needed to eat, to think straight.

Reluctantly, he climbed back into the car and started driving, scanning the streets of the N109 Zone for anything that looked remotely functional. This part of the city was basically wasteland—most of the buildings were crumbling, their windows broken, and the streets were nearly empty. He almost decided to give up before spotting a flicker of neon in the distance.

It was a convenience store—small, dingy, and barely lit—but it was open. The cracked neon sign buzzed weakly, casting a dull glow over the entrance. It didn’t look promising, but it was all he had. He pulled up, the car’s tires crunching over the broken pavement as he parked.

Xavier stepped out, his eyes narrowing as he approached the entrance. The store looked as worn out as the rest of the area, its windows covered in grime and dust, but the lights inside told him it was still in business. He pushed the door open, the warmth of the store enveloping him.

The place reeked of stale air and something faintly metallic. Shelves lined the narrow aisles, most of them half-stocked but there was variety. Xavier grabbed a few snacks—whatever looked edible—and made his way to the counter, where a grimy man with disheveled hair and yellowed teeth sat behind the register, staring at him with a disinterested scowl.

“Do you take gold?” Xavier asked, pulling out a small pouch from his pocket. It wasn’t unusual for places outside Linkon City to not take gold, as a lot of places were still living in the past. Couldn't hurt to ask though.

The man behind the counter laughed, a rough, guttural sound that made Xavier’s skin crawl. “Gold, huh? Figures. You Linkcunt folks just keep coming in here actin’ like it’s worth more than it is.” He leaned forward, eyeing Xavier with something between amusement and suspicion.

"No, we don't take it."

Xavier pocketed the small pouch, unsurprised by the man's harsh words, “You said Linkon folks? Who else from the city has been here?” His tone was casual, but his heart skipped a beat. Maybe someone else had seen you?

"Linkcunt," the man corrected with a sneer. The man’s eyes flicked up, narrowing slightly. “Why, you looking for someone?” He eyed Xavier and leaned back in his chair, his voice taking on an edge of curiosity.

Xavier pressed, trying to keep his voice steady. “Maybe. Just wondering who else might’ve been through here recently.”

The man scratched his stubbled chin, considering. “Well, there was this disheveled-looking girl who came through a little while ago. Had a lot of attitude, that one. Demanding help. Swiped some snacks and shit when I wasn’t looking. Took off before I could do anything about it.” He shrugged, clearly not too bothered by the theft. “But that’s basically all I know.”

Xavier’s heart stopped. A disheveled girl… Could it have been you?

His pulse quickened, the pieces clicking together. You must have come through here before disappearing. The man didn’t seem to know much more, but this was a sign. You had been close—you had been right here.

“What’d she look like?” Xavier asked, trying not to sound too eager.

The man waved a hand lazily. “Didn't look that closely to be honest. Bitch looked like hell, though. Clothes all messed up, like she’d been through something. But she was quick—didn’t stick around long enough for me to really notice much else. Don’t know where she went after that. Just up and vanished with my stock”

Xavier nodded, feeling a surge of both hope and frustration. You’d been here, that much was clear. But now you were gone again, slipping through his fingers like a ghost.

"You really shouldn't talk about women like that".

He paid for the snacks with some dollar bills he kept in his car for out of city trips, and turned to leave, leaving the disgruntled cashier. His mind already racing to figure out where you could’ve gone from here.

Xavier’s heart pounded in his chest as he stepped back outside, the cold night air hitting him like a wall. You’d been here. Not long ago, from the sound of it. He could almost picture it—your disheveled form rushing through the aisles, grabbing whatever you could before vanishing into the shadows again. You were close, too close to give up now. But where had you gone?

He clenched his jaw, glancing around the empty streets. There were too many directions, too many places you could have disappeared to. The N109 Zone was vast, a labyrinth of forgotten corners and abandoned buildings, and there was no telling where you might have run off to next.

His mind raced, trying to make sense of the little he knew. You had come here to get food, maybe out of desperation—running on fear and adrenaline. And then, like the man said, you were gone. No tracks, no sign of where you’d been taken.

Xavier pulled a crumpled pamphlet out of his jacket pocket, his fingers brushing over the faded image of a sleek pair of boots. It was the same pamphlet the shoe store clerk had given him earlier, and now, it seemed like his only other lead. A shoe store… It might seem like a stretch, but he had learned to follow even the smallest clues. If he couldn’t figure out where you had gone, maybe he could figure out more about the man who had taken you. And starting with something as small as his shoes might just be the break he needed.

He studied the pamphlet again, his eyes narrowing as he recalled his brief conversation with the clerk. The shoes had been expensive, high-end—definitely not something most people in the N109 Zone would be wearing.

But S wasn’t like most people, was he?

Xavier’s mind spun as he hurriedly typed the address from the pamphlet into his hunter’s watch, the holographic screen glowing softly as it processed the information. The watch pinged, highlighting the location of the store in the city. It wasn’t far, but it was a place he wouldn’t have expected someone from the N109 Zone to frequent.

If S was wearing those shoes, it meant he had money—or at least access to it. That was something Xavier could work with. People like that left trails, even in places where they thought they could stay hidden.

He started the car again, his pulse quickening as the watch projected the route onto the windshield. The shoe store was his next stop, and if he was lucky, he could get more information about who S really was. Maybe someone there had seen him, or better yet, could point him in the direction of where he lived or did business.

As the car sped toward the heart of the city, Xavier’s determination sharpened. He was getting closer to answers—closer to finding you. If he could learn more about this mysterious man, this “S,” then maybe, just maybe, he could figure out where you were being held.

As Xavier sped through the dark, crumbling streets of the N109 Zone, the world outside his car blurred into a mix of shadows and faint streetlights. His mind was focused on finding you, piecing together the next step in his search. Then, out of nowhere, a piercing scream shattered the stillness.

His foot slammed on the brake, the car lurching to a stop as his heart raced. The sound of the scream echoed through the desolate streets, raw and desperate. He scanned the area frantically, searching for the source of the cry for help. Then he saw her—a woman stumbling into the dim light from a broken streetlamp, clutching her side, her face twisted in pain.

“Help! Please, help me!” she gasped, her voice cracking with panic as she looked directly at him, her body collapsing onto the cracked pavement.

Xavier’s hunter instincts kicked in immediately. He couldn’t just leave someone like that. He shoved the car door open and rushed toward her, his eyes darting around, looking for any potential danger. The streets of the N109 Zone were unpredictable, but he couldn't just ignore someone in need.

“What’s wrong? Are you hurt?” he asked, his tone urgent but calm as he knelt down beside her.

The woman’s breathing was shallow, her face pale and contorted with pain. She clutched her ribs, wincing with every breath. “I don’t know,” she whimpered, “I was attacked. I need help… please…” Her eyes were wild with fear, darting between Xavier and the shadows beyond, as if expecting someone—or something—to come after her at any moment.

Xavier’s heart pounded, his mind racing. “I’ll get you some help,” he assured her, reaching for his phone. But as he fumbled for it, he felt a shift—something wasn’t right.

The woman’s eyes flicked over his shoulder, her panic momentarily replaced by something colder, more calculating. Before he could react, a blur of movement rushed behind him.

A sharp clink. The keys.

Xavier’s blood ran cold as he spun around, just in time to see a man slip past him, keys glinting in his hand. The stranger, quick and agile, darted toward Xavier’s car, jumping into the driver’s seat. How did I not see this coming? The realization hit him like a punch to the gut—this was a setup.

“Hey!” Xavier yelled, lunging forward, his heart hammering in his chest. But it was too late.

The woman, now standing tall with no trace of pain or injury, smirked at him, her expression smug and mocking. “Thanks for the ride, city boy,” she sneered, her voice dripping with satisfaction as she ran toward the passenger side of the car. She moved easily now, as if the earlier fear and desperation had been nothing but an act. It had been.

Xavier’s mind raced as he sprinted toward the car, but the engine roared to life before he could even get close. The man in the driver’s seat gunned the accelerator, the tires screeching against the pavement as the car sped away, leaving a cloud of dust in its wake.

His heart sank as he watched the taillights disappear into the darkness, the weight of the situation crashing down on him. His car. His keys. Everything—gone in an instant. And with it, any chance of quickly finding you.

He'd have to walk on foot.

The steam from the shower still clung to your skin as you stepped out, your mind swirling in a haze of exhaustion and hunger. Your stomach growled loudly, reminding you just how long it had been since you last ate. The hot water had done little to wash away the weight of everything pressing down on you—the memories, the fear—but it had, at least, cleaned the grime from your body. You were left feeling raw and exposed, unsure of what was coming next.

You opened the glass door of the shower and grabbed a towel laying on the counter, wrapping it around yourself quickly before exiting.

You saw Sylus had elected to lean against the doorframe when you stepped out, and he turned around to face you. His eyes, those sharp, red eyes, softened when they met yours. "The chef has prepared food for you," he said, his voice gentle. The tenderness in his tone felt unnerving, like everything else with him, but the thought of food was too tempting to resist.

But before you could respond, he gestured to a set of neatly prepared shopping bags laid on his bed outside the bathroom. “I want you to open these first. Consider them gifts I had planned for you… before you ran off.” The edge in his words lingered, but his expression remained neutral. You vaguely remembered him clipping your nails while you were in the bathtub, a pile of shopping bags at his feet.

Ah, you had forgotten all about those. You wrapped the towel around yourself tighter, a knot of discomfort forming in your stomach.

You hesitated for a moment, then slowly approached the bed, your hands trembling slightly as you began to take out the "gifts". The first bag contained delicate pieces of underwear—soft, lace, and undeniably expensive. You swallowed hard, feeling a wave of unease crawl up your spine.

“Gifts for me? Or for you to see on me?” you muttered, unable to hide the malice in your voice, the bitterness slipping out.

Sylus’s lips quirked into a small, amused smile, his red eyes flickering with that familiar, unsettling glint. "Why not both?," he replied softly, the weight of his gaze lingering on you as though he found your defiance amusing.

These weren’t just clothes; they were symbols of his control, of how he saw you. Like you were his little doll to dress up. Still, you nodded hesitantly, accepting the garments with quiet reluctance.

Beneath the underwear were more practical clothes—soft, comfortable tops, leggings, and dresses. Each piece was chosen carefully, and despite yourself, you appreciated the effort, if only because you were desperate for something to wear to avoid Sylus's lingering gaze on your damp body. You chose a simple, slightly loose white dress, letting it fall over your damp skin. Then slipped on one of the many underwear he had bought for you. Sylus watched you quietly, a small smile playing on his lips as he waited for you to finish.

“You might've lost a few pounds from stress, once you start eating more, it’ll fit better,” he said casually, his tone matter-of-fact as though he hadn’t just casually referenced your weakened state. The words hung in the air, a subtle reminder of how long you'll be trapped here. Then, with a surprising softness, he added, “You look beautiful nonetheless, honey.”

“Honey.” A new pet name.

Surprisingly, instead of making you grimace like his usual endearments, it sends an unwelcome heat crawling across your face. You bite the inside of your cheek, forcing yourself not to react, but the flush is unmistakable. Against your will, your gaze drops, and you look away from him, the sudden surge of embarrassment catching you off guard.

Sylus notices, of course. His smile deepens slightly, a quiet satisfaction flickering in his eyes as if he can sense the effect his words have on you. He doesn’t say anything, but you can feel his gaze on you—steady, watchful—his presence filling the room in an unnerving way that makes it harder to breathe.

He extended his hand toward you, the gesture oddly tender and yet impossible to trust. You hesitated, unsure if taking it would solidify his power over you further or if refusing would draw out something worse. But you take it, residing to the fact that you didn't have much choice.

He moved toward the door, your hand held in his grip. “Come,” he said. “The food is waiting.”

Your stomach growled again, and despite the tension between you and him, you found yourself trailing after him, your body driven by the gnawing hunger you couldn’t ignore. As you stepped into the dining hall, the rich, mouth-watering aroma of freshly prepared food hit you like a wave.

The table was filled with an extravagant feast. Platters of roasted meats sat alongside bowls of vibrant vegetables, glistening under the kitchen lights. There were thick, tender cuts of lamb, still steaming from the oven, their edges crisp and golden. Roasted chicken, its skin perfectly browned and seasoned with herbs, sat atop a bed of caramelized onions and garlic. Beside them, a platter of seared duck breast, cooked to perfection, its fat rendered into a rich, savory glaze.

On another side of the table were bowls of creamy mashed potatoes, rich and buttery, their surface dusted with flecks of chives. A dish of roasted root vegetables—carrots, parsnips, and beets—was arranged in a beautiful display, their edges crisp and caramelized, drizzled with a balsamic glaze. There was a vibrant salad of mixed greens, tossed with fresh pomegranate seeds, crumbled goat cheese, and candied walnuts, the dressing a light, tangy vinaigrette that made your mouth water.

A basket of freshly baked bread sat in the center of the table, the rolls warm and soft, their golden crusts begging to be torn apart. Small bowls of whipped butter, infused with honey and herbs, accompanied them, the scent sweet and savory.

But it didn’t stop there. Desserts, too, were laid out, tempting you even further. A decadent chocolate tart with a glossy ganache topping, dusted with powdered sugar and fresh raspberries, sat next to a platter of delicate fruit tarts, their centers brimming with custard and topped with glistening berries. A tower of macarons in various pastel shades—lavender, pistachio, rose—completed the lavish display.

Sylus pulled out a chair for you, his smile widening as he watched your eyes dart from one dish to the next. "Well don't just stare, sit down".

The sight and smell overwhelmed you, and for a moment, you felt like a prisoner presented with a royal meal, knowing full well the chains still bound you. But hunger gnawed at your insides, and no matter how conflicted you were, your body screamed for sustenance as you sat.

"Eat," Sylus urged, taking a seat across from you. His eyes never left yours, watching, waiting for your reaction.

Your hand trembled slightly as you reached for a piece of bread, the warmth of it soothing in your palm. You tore it open, the soft dough yielding beneath your fingers, and dipped it into the whipped honey butter, taking a small bite. The flavors burst in your mouth, and despite everything, you couldn’t help but let out a soft sigh of relief.

The food was perfect—too perfect. And as you took another bite, you couldn’t help but wonder: was this all part of the game too? Or was it simply nourishment after the storm?

Sylus leaned back in his chair, his gaze fixed on you as you ate, his expression unreadable. He didn’t speak, just watched you in that unsettling, familiar way—like he was always studying you, always thinking, always planning. His silence, for once, was almost a relief, allowing you to focus on the food and ignore his presence as much as possible.

You couldn’t help it. The hunger gnawed at you, and the feast before you was impossible to resist. The flavors were rich, the textures comforting, and before you realized it, you had cleared almost four plates. Each bite had momentarily dulled the chaos in your mind, letting you push aside the fear, the memories, and the discomfort that still lingered in your chest.

Sylus didn’t comment as you reached for more, nor did he interrupt. He seemed content to let you eat in peace, his eyes never leaving you but his lips remaining closed. It wasn’t until you finally pushed the last plate away, feeling the fullness settle in your stomach, that the silence between you felt heavier.

The weight of exhaustion began to settle over you. The warmth from the food and the sheer relief of being full left you feeling heavy, your eyelids growing heavier by the minute. You hadn’t realized just how tired you were until that moment. Your body felt like it had finally reached its limit.

Sylus stood up, breaking the silence. His movements were smooth and deliberate as he pushed his chair back, his gaze never leaving you. “You must be tired,” he said softly, the same unnerving tenderness in his voice as before. “It’s time for bed.”

You tensed slightly at his words, but your body, worn down by hunger and stress, didn’t have the strength to protest. You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak, afraid of what might come out if you did. There was no point in resisting, not tonight.

Sylus moved toward you, his hand extending again as if offering comfort. You hesitated, looking at his outstretched hand, but you didn’t have the energy to reject him. You let him guide you, his touch gentle yet firm as he led you toward the bedroom you were dreading your return to.

You don’t remember when exactly you slipped into unconsciousness, but the world had faded into nothing after Sylus lifted you into the bed. His arms were unexpectedly gentle, cradling you with a kind of care that felt entirely out of place. You were vaguely aware of him pulling the blankets up around you, tucking you in, but then everything went dark. The exhaustion you had been fighting all day finally consumed you, and you sank into the deepest sleep you’d felt in what seemed like forever.

There was comfort in the darkness, the kind of peace that only comes with complete surrender to sleep. No fear, no panic, just the void. You floated there, cradled in warmth. But soon, the darkness gave way to a dream, vivid and consuming.

Xavier appeared first, stepping out of the shadows of your mind. His familiar figure brought an immediate sense of relief. His ashy blonde hair fell into his face, and his striking blue eyes bore into you with the same warmth and intensity that always made your heart flutter. There he was, just as you remembered—strong, dependable, and safe. He reached out, his hand extending toward you, and without hesitation, you moved toward him.

The moment your hand met his, your heart melted, the overwhelming sense of security flooding through you. For the first time in what felt like ages, you felt safe. You felt home.

But something changed.

Xavier’s gaze, once filled with affection and care, shifted. His eyes darkened, turning cold, distant. The warmth you’d found in his presence quickly evaporated, replaced by something harsh and unfamiliar. His lips curled downward, a shadow crossing his face, and his grip on your hand tightened. The shift was sudden, the dream warping around you like a twisted reflection of reality.

"Why did you want him dead?" His voice cut through the dream, sharp and cold, the softness you’d expected from him nowhere to be found.

You blinked, confusion gripping you as his words sank in. “Huh?” Your face faltered, your heart pounding in your chest. His cold stare drilled into you, and you could feel something inside you cracking under its weight. What was happening?

"You're the reason Reese is dead," Xavier said, his words landing like a punch to the gut. His voice, usually so steady, so comforting, was now filled with anger, with accusation. His grip on your hand turned painful, his fingers digging into your skin with an almost crushing force.

“No...” Your voice wavered, barely able to push the word out as your mind reeled. “That wasn’t my fault, it was Sy—” You tried to explain, to say anything to stop the blame from settling on your shoulders. But the words caught in your throat, and you couldn’t finish. You couldn’t get them out.

His face twisted, contorting with anger and something that looked like disappointment. His blue eyes, once a source of warmth, were now filled with icy judgment, the coldness sinking into your skin like knives. His grip tightened further, pain shooting through your hand, but no matter how hard you tried to pull away, you couldn’t escape.

The dream around you blurred, the edges of reality warping and distorting. The ground beneath you seemed to shift, unsteady, while Xavier's figure loomed larger, his presence suffocating. The weight of his blame pressed down on your chest like a stone, suffocating you, filling your lungs with an overwhelming sense of guilt.

You tried to explain again, your voice strangled by the intensity of the moment, but Xavier wasn’t listening. His hand was like a vice, his fingers digging into your skin as his gaze pinned you in place. His words repeated in your mind, echoing louder and louder—“You're the reason he’s dead.”

Xavier's face began to twist, distorting into something grotesque, something no longer human. His once gentle features morphed and stretched unnaturally, his blue eyes darkening into hollow, accusing pits. His grip on your hand became unbearable, crushing the bones in your fingers as his form continued to change, shifting from the man you loved into a nightmare. The warmth that had briefly comforted you was gone, replaced by a deep, bone-chilling cold.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you tried to pull away, but the force holding you was relentless. You stared in horror as Xavier’s form became unrecognizable, his skin taking on a gray, cracked texture, his mouth elongating into a grimace filled with sharp teeth. His eyes, now nothing more than deep, empty voids, bore into you with a hatred that sent shivers down your spine.

“You’re a murderer,” the figure spat, its voice now a low, guttural growl that echoed in your ears, far louder than it should have been. “Murderer.” The word hit you like a physical blow, making your entire body tense as you tried to make sense of what was happening.

“No…” you whispered, your voice trembling as you desperately tried to defend yourself. “It wasn’t my fault. I didn’t—”

“You have blood on your hands!” the figure roared, its voice shaking the world around you. Xavier’s face continued to twist and contort, veins bulging from his neck, his body looming over you like a towering monster. “You told him to die!”

The words echoed again and again, crashing into you with the force of a tidal wave. The weight of guilt slammed into your chest, almost knocking the wind out of you as the grotesque version of Xavier leaned in closer. His voice became more vicious, more unforgiving. “You let him die, and now the blood is on your hands!”

You looked down, and your breath caught in your throat. Blood. It was everywhere—on your hands, dripping from your fingers, pooling at your feet. Panic surged through you, your heart racing as you tried to wipe it away, but no matter how hard you scrubbed, the blood only seemed to multiply, staining your skin, your clothes, everything around you.

“You’ll never wash it off!” the figure screamed, its voice shaking with rage. “Never!” It grabbed your shoulders, shaking you violently as it continued to scream. “You’re a murderer!

You struggled, trying to pull free, but the figure’s grip was unbreakable. The dream spiraled into chaos, the world around you collapsing into darkness as the screams filled the air, overwhelming your senses. The blood seemed to rise like a tide, crawling up your arms, soaking through your skin. You gasped for air, but it was suffocating, the guilt swallowing you whole.

“Murderer!” the figure roared again, louder this time, shaking you until your vision blurred. “Murderer! Murderer!"

Tears streamed down your face as you tried to shake your head, to deny it, but the accusations wouldn’t stop. The guilt, the blood, the rage—it was all around you, suffocating you, crushing you.

And then, just as quickly as it began, the figure stopped. It stood over you, silent now, but its eyes—those hollow, accusing voids—were locked onto you. “You can never escape what you’ve done,” it whispered, the venom in its voice chilling you to the core.

You shot up in bed, heart hammering in your chest, a scream tearing through your throat before you even knew what was happening. The sheets clung to your sweat-soaked skin as you gasped for breath, the nightmare still gripping you in its suffocating hold. Your hands shook violently, fingers instinctively rubbing at your palms, expecting to see the blood, the thick, crimson stain that had haunted you moments before.

But there was no blood.

The room was dark, dimly lit by a lamp settled on the nightstand. Sylus sat beside you, awake, casually reading a book. His red eyes glanced up from the pages, calm and steady, showing no sign of surprise at your sudden outburst.

“You’re okay,” Sylus said softly, his voice low but steady. He closed the book, setting it aside as he reached out, pulling you closer, into his arms with a gentle grip. The warmth of his body on yours was meant to be comforting, but the lingering terror from the dream made his touch feel heavier, suffocating.

Your breath came in ragged gasps, the echoes of the nightmare still gripping you. The blood, the screams, the weight of guilt—it all felt so real, too real to shake off. Your hands trembled in your lap, still trying to rub away the invisible stain that wouldn’t leave.

“Shhh,” Sylus soothed, his voice soft as he stroked your back with deliberate calmness. “It was just a nightmare, kitten.”

But his words barely penetrated the thick fog of panic swirling in your mind. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to steady your breathing, but the image of Xavier’s cold, accusing gaze still lingered in the corners of your thoughts, leaving an ache in your chest that refused to fade.

Sylus’s gaze never wavered from you. He was patient, his grip around you getting stronger as you fought to regain control, his expression a mixture of curiosity and concern, though it was impossible to tell how much of it was real. He watched you wordlessly, waiting patiently for your breathing to slow as he rubbed your back in soothing motions.

And you did, eventually. Slowly, your heartbeat began to slow, the cold sweat drying on your skin as the nightmare finally started to loosen its grip. You were still shaken, but reality was settling back in.

Sylus smiled, his eyes softening slightly. “Good girl,” he murmured, brushing a strand of hair from your face. "You feel better?"

"It's not my fault..." you muttered, your voice barely above a whisper as tears began streaming down your face, hot and unstoppable. The weight of the nightmare still pressed against your chest, the guilt wrapping itself around your heart. "Reese... I told him to die, kinda. But you killed him!"

Your words trembled in the air, and for a moment, the room felt suffocatingly silent. Sylus’s arm stilled on your back, his red eyes watching you closely. His face remained calm, unreadable, but something flickered behind his gaze—curiosity, perhaps, or even amusement. He began rubbing your back again.

He leaned in slightly, his voice low and steady as he spoke. “I killed him because he took what was mine,” he said, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “You didn’t pull the trigger, I did. Don’t fool yourself, sweetie.” His fingers gently wiped away the tears falling down your cheeks, lingering on your skin a second longer than necessary.

“His fate was sealed the moment he touched you. You’re not responsible for his death.”

Your heart ached, the confusion and guilt twisting inside you. The memory of Reese's lifeless body, the sound of the gunshot, played over and over in your mind. You knew that Sylus had been the one to end it, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that your words, your anger, had driven the final nail in the coffin.

"But I—" you started, your voice cracking, but Sylus shushed you gently, pressing a finger to your lips.

“Don’t burden yourself,” he whispered, his voice soothing but firm. “Reese was a pest, and pests are dealt with. It wasn’t your fault. You said what you needed to say in the moment” His eyes softened, his gaze almost affectionate. “And now, you’re here—with me. Safe.”

"Am I?" you sobbed, the weight of your emotions crashing down on you all at once. The tears came faster, and with them, the memory of that night—the night Sylus had taken everything into his own hands, literally. The sharp pain, the feeling of your skin being sliced open as he calmly removed your birth control implant, resurfaced in vivid detail. The raw fear that had gripped you then returned now, surging like a wave you couldn't hold back.

"At least Reese never hurt me," you choked out between sobs, your voice trembling, barely holding together. "You, on the other hand..."

Your hand instinctively went to your arm, tracing the faint scar left behind from when Sylus had decided, without a second thought, that he would control every part of you—inside and out. The scar was still there, but it wasn’t just on your skin. The memory of that violation ran deeper than any wound that could heal.

Sylus’s expression didn’t shift at your words. His calm gaze remained fixed on you, though there was a slight narrowing of his eyes. His hand paused in its comforting motions, hovering just inches from you, as if calculating how to respond.

“I did what was necessary,” he said, his voice calm, controlled, almost dismissive. "Everything I’ve done has been for you. For us. Why are you crying over a man that handed you and countless others over for crack?"

The flood of emotions broke through all at once at his words.

"Because-because he wasn't supposed to die. Hunters aren't the reason people die, we save people...he could've went to jail he wasn't supposed to-"

You crumpled, sobs wracking your body as the weight of everything—of all you had endured—became too much to bear. Memories you had tried to suppress, to bury deep within you, rose to the surface like dark waves crashing against fragile walls.

The man from the basement. His hands grabbing you, the smell of his breath, the sheer terror that had paralyzed you as he tried to force himself on you. You had fought, screamed, but the memory was still there, etched into your mind like a brand that would never fade. The nightmare you had just woken from had only served to rip open the scars you had so desperately tried to heal.

Your words came out in broken fragments, incoherent between sobs. "That other man…he tried… I couldn’t— I couldn’t stop him…" Your voice cracked, your chest heaving as you babbled through the memories, the trauma wrapping itself around you like a suffocating shroud. "He—he wouldn’t stop… I couldn’t breathe, I was so scared…"

You weren’t even sure Sylus was listening. You couldn’t look at him. Everything blurred together, your mind overwhelmed by the pain, the helplessness, the feeling of being trapped again in that moment. You curled in on yourself, trembling as the sobs became uncontrollable, the terror of that night suffocating you all over again.

Then you felt it—Sylus’s hand, soft and deliberate, gently cradling your cheek. He leaned in, his voice softening into something almost unbearably tender, a tone you never thought he was capable of.

"Poor thing, you're such a mess," he murmured.

His eyes lingered on you with a mix of pity and affection, as though you were something fragile, something cherished. It was as if watching you unravel before him caused his heart to ache.

“I can help you forget,” he whispered, his thumb brushing away your tears with slow, careful strokes. “Let me take the pain away, kitten. You don’t have to carry it anymore.”

His words were soothing, like a lullaby coaxing you away from the edge of your breakdown. His touch was uncharacteristically soft, his presence surrounding you like a cocoon, making it harder to pull yourself out of the depths of your despair. For a brief moment, the way he looked at you—like he truly cared—made you falter.

You hesitate at his words. The rational part of your mind urged you to turn away, not to respond. To pull yourself from his embrace and fight him. But the other part, muddled by trauma, drove you to stay. To seek comfort, any comfort, even in his arms.

From your captor of all people.

“Yes…” you whimpered, blinking away tears. You didn’t know why you answered that way—your mind screamed at you to stop—but you found yourself reaching out, your fingers clutching the collar of his shirt and pulling him closer.

Anything. Anything to make this pain stop.

His lips crashed against yours before you could even register what was happening, consuming you in a kiss so passionate it bordered on painful. All rational thought evaporated as his tongue plundered the recesses of your mouth, stroking along your palate and tangling with your own tongue in a sensual dance as old as time itself.

You were consumed, caught in the storm of his touch, unable to think beyond the overwhelming need to escape the agony of your memories—even if only for a moment.

Your hands flew to his face of their own accord, fingers threading through his hair as you clung to him like a drowning woman gasping for air. You kissed him back with a fervor born of desperation, pouring all your pent-up anguish and trauma into the hungry clash of lips and teeth. The two of you panted against each other, like animals ready to tear each other to shreds.

Some distant part of you screamed that this was mistake, that doing this with him willingly was certainly wrong. He had kidnapped you after all. Stolen you. But it was drowned out by the pounding of your heart, the ache of need pulsing between your thighs. His hands slid under your dress, calloused palms skimming over hypersensitive flesh, and you arched into his touch with a whimper.

"Sylus..." you whined, already feeling the desperate ache reach your core.

"I know, kitten. Patience, we just started" he said, amusement adorning his face.

His lips found yours again, hot and demanding, silencing any lingering protests. You melted into the kiss, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer. The taste of him was intoxicating, a heady mix of desire and danger that left you craving more. His fingers find the hem of your underwear, wasting no time to remove the obstacle from your wet depths.

Your whole body trembled as Sylus's lips blazed a path down your body, trailing molten kisses along the column of your throat. Each brush of his mouth against your sensitive skin sent electricity singing through your veins, igniting another fiery ache between your thighs. When he nudged aside the fabric of your dress to nuzzle the slick flesh of your cunt, you let out a strangled moan, your fingers curling into the sheets beneath you.

The tip of his nose grazed your swollen bud, and your back arched off the bed, every nerve ending sparking with raw pleasure. "Nnnngh…" you whimpered, hips bucking instinctively toward his teasing touch.

Sylus's deep, resonant chuckle rumbled through you, vibrating against your core in a way that made your toes curl. "So responsive," he murmured, his warm breath ghosting over your dripping folds. "Tell me, kitten-were you this wet for him? Did he make you shiver and moan like this when he touched you?"

He grips your thighs almost possessively, waiting for your answer.

His words were like a bucket of ice water dumped over your head, plunging you back into reality. Shame crashed over you in nauseating waves, your arousal doused by the realization of how easily Sylus manipulated your body. Tears leaked from the corners of your eyes as you squeezed them shut, fists clenching in the bedding.

"No," you choked out, voice brittle. "Never. He never touched me like this…Sylus, please…" The plea was torn from your throat, part desperation, part disgust. You felt filthy, tainted by your own traitorous reactions to Sylus's sensual assault on your most intimate parts.

But despite the revulsion roiling in your gut, your body still yearned for more.

"Its hard to say no when you beg me like that," he said, seemingly satisfied with your answer, began trailing a hot, wet streak against your folds. A gasp punches through your throat, eyes fluttering as you try not to lose all control. The mere feeling of his tongue was sending your brain into frenzies. But it wasn't enough. Wasn't enough to block the pain.

"Sylus, ple-mmph!”

You grip the bedsheets even tighter when he tenderly cuts off your plea with a moan against your clit, his tongue beginning to spread the entrance of your lips apart feverishly. Your breathing gets rapid when you feel something hot breaking past the entrance, deeper and deeper into your walls. Sylus's tongue delved deeper, stroking along your inner walls with devastating skill.

"You don't have to hold the bedsheets." he says, withdrawing momentarily from your depths. He wordlessly guides your hands to the top of his head, and before you can say anything, he's back licking up and down your folds, eventually making his way back in completely. The immediate shockwaves of pleasure make you grip his hair basically against your will, and you tearfully hold his hair as you neared an orgasm.

The pleasure built to an unbearable crescendo as Sylus's tongue relentlessly stroked your inner walls, each slick thrust driving you higher toward the brink of climax. Broken moans spilled from your lips, intermingling with his hungry growls of appreciation. Tears streamed down your face as your hips rocked shamelessly against his mouth, silently begging for the oblivion that hovered just out of reach.

Sylus's strong hands gripped your thighs, holding you in place as he feasted upon your aching cunt. He seemed enraptured, almost worshipful in his attentions, lavishing your most intimate places with devoted licks and sucks. He ate you out like a starved man. Like he craved you.

Like he missed you.

Occasionally his nose would rub against your clit again and again, a delicious friction that made you sob with the intensity of it all.

When his lips finally closed around your swollen clit and sucked hard, you nearly vaulted off the bed, a strangled scream tearing from your throat.

"Mhgn! Sylus! Please, I can't…it's too much!"

But he didn't let up, his talented tongue circling the sensitive bundle of nerves with ruthless precision. Your vision whited out as you finally reached heaven, wave after wave of ecstasy crashing over you until you thought you might drown in it. Your walls clamped down on his invading tongue, pulsing with the force of your release, unwittingly calling out Sylus's name as you did so.

Finally, blessedly, Sylus withdrew. You melted in the sheets, finally letting go of his hair, boneless and shuddering in the aftermath. Tears streaked your face, but for once, they weren't because Sylus had hurt you. He had done quite the opposite actually.

Taking in the sight of you sprawled before him, flushed and panting, your body trembling. With a wicked smirk, he trailed a hand along your trembling thigh, drawing a shuddering moan from your throat. Evidence of your orgasm coated his mouth, and you watch as he licks the remaining from his lips.

"Tired already?" he teased, quite enjoying the way your body tensed under his touch. "For a hunter I expected you to have more stamina."

The haze of post-orgasmic bliss dissipated as quickly as it had descended, harsh reality crashing back in with brutal clarity. Tears pricked your eyes as the weight of your shame threatened to crush you. You had begged him for it, eagerly spread your legs for your kidnapper as if y'all were lovers. What was wrong with you?

"I..." you trail off, vision blurring with tears once more. What were you going to say? What could you say?

Sylus trailed lazy kisses along your jaw, seeming to sense your internal turmoil within your head. His lips rubbed against your sensitive skin, sending unwanted sparks of pleasure skittering through your nerves.

"If you're still able to think," he murmured against your throat, "then I clearly haven't kept my promise of helping you forget." His nimble fingers worked at his belt buckle.

The leather strap slid free of the loops with a hiss, dropping forgotten to the floor. Soon after, you felt the straps of your dress slip past your shoulders, past your waist, and eventually off your body completely. Sylus's gaze raked over you, lovingly and hungry, devouring the flush on your skin, the swell of your heaving breasts. You felt bare under his scrutiny, stripped of all defenses.

"And here I thought I was doing such a good job of distracting you," he purred, palming himself through his jeans. The rigid line of his erection strained against the faded denim, an obscene bulge that made your mouth go dry. You watched as he began taking his shirt off from over his head, his chiseled stomach and chest coming into view.

"Please..." you whimpered, the word torn from your throat as fresh tears spilled down your cheeks. Your body trembled, caught between the whirlwind of conflicting emotions roiling within you. Revulsion. Lust. Desperation. Self-loathing. You don't even know what you're asking for.

Sylus's expression softened as he gazed down at you, his thumb brushing away the moisture collecting on your lashes. It was uncharacteristic of you to beg for anything other than freedom. It was pulling at his heart and making him feel weak. "Shhh, it's alright sweetie," he soothed, his voice a low murmur. "I'm keeping my promise. Don't think, just focus on me."

Slowly, reverently, he lowered his mouth to yours in a kiss that stole your breath and shattered your reservations. His lips moved over yours with aching tenderness, sipping at your parted lips as if savoring the sweetest nectar. The press of his body against yours was solid, reassuring, anchoring you in the whirlwind of sensation.

His tongue slipped past your defenses to stroke the sensitive flesh within, each languid thrust a silent promise of the ecstasy to come. One large hand cradled your face, angling your head to deepen the kiss, while the other smoothed soothing circles on the small of your back.

When he pulls back, eyes staring down at you, it feels like he's staring into the depths of your soul. His eye begins to glow dangerously, and you begin to feel your mind start to spin and the room start to grow hazy. Voices begin pouring into your ears.

Devour him.

He's right there.

Grab him!

But just as quickly as they started, they stopped. You lay there shocked, unable to process what just happened.

"Your mind says a lot more than your mouth does, kitten" he chuckles, and you can only blink confusingly at him as he begins unzipping his pants. He stands up momentarily to remove his pants and you watch as his cock finally spring free. You feel a gush of arousal as you watch it throb, precum slightly leaking at the tip.

"W-what?" you ask, one half of your brain focusing on his raging erection and the other half wondering why the hell your mind felt like it was splitting in half just a second ago.

But you have no time to ponder such questions as Sylus begins to tower above you once more, grabbing your legs and spreading them apart. You squeal at the sudden touch and shiver when his tip rubs against the slit of your opening. His face is twisted with pleasure and his lips are parted, as if he's restraining every part of himself not to push everything into you at once.

"Slow...please" you beg, your hips involuntarily pushing down on the head of his tip when it greets your opening.

"You want me to go slow, yet your hips are lifting off the bed like you can't wait to have me buried inside you," Sylus teased, his voice a low, wicked murmur. He enjoys the way your face twists in annoyance.

"So greedy, aren't you kitten?"

"I'm not trying t-mmph!"

You words lodge into your throat as you feel the head of his tip pierce your hole. You gasped, back arching as you stretched impossibly around him. A painful stretch causes you to groan and try to pull away, but Sylus puts a hand on your stomach, holding you down and ceasing all resistance.

"Be still, hah, it wont hurt for long". Sylus lips are parted as he lets out his own breathless groan, his senses being overwhelmed with you as he sinks deeper and deeper.

"Fuck, you're so tight," Sylus groaned, his eyes squeezing shut as he fought for control. He eased forward slowly, inch by excruciating inch, letting you adjust to his substantial size. Your velvety walls resisted initially, clamping down around him like a vice.

Sylus paused, buried to the hilt inside you, his pelvis flush against yours. "Breathe, kitten," he instructed, his voice strained with the effort of holding still. "Try to relax okay?."

You tried to relax, to focus on the pleasant pressure building deep in your core instead of the dull ache in your stretched flesh. Gradually, you yielded, your muscles unclenching as Sylus began to move.

"Good girl," he managed through clenched teeth, withdrawing until just the tip remained before sliding back in with agonizing deliberateness. Over and over, he set a torturously slow rhythm, savoring every drag of your fluttering walls along his rigid cock.

Soon, the sting gave way to blossoming pleasure, radiating outward from where you were joined. You found yourself meeting his measured thrusts, your hips rocking up to take him deeper, chasing that euphoric friction. Sylus's pace quickened marginally, his self-control fraying at the edges. The slap of flesh against flesh echoed obscenely in the room, a filthy symphony that drowned out your labored breaths and muffled whimpers.

Each deliberate thrust carried you further from the pit of anguish threatening to swallow you whole. The exquisite drag of Sylus's thick cock along your sensitive walls obliterated every coherent thought, leaving only the raw, visceral pleasure of the moment. Higher and higher you climbed, chasing the blissful oblivion he promised, until the first warnings of an impending climax rippled through your trembling form.

Sylus shifted his angle slightly, and stars exploded behind your eyelids as he grazed a spot deep inside that made your toes curl. A strangled moan tore from your throat, lost in the slick slide of bodies and the heady musk of arousal perfuming the air.

"That's it, sweetie," Sylus coo'd, his voice low and rough with lust. "Let go. Think about the one making you feel good right now. Think about me. Only me."

His words shivered through you, igniting something primal and needy. Your hips bucked up to meet his thrusts, desperate for more, harder, faster. Your mind snapped and went blank. You were drowning in sensation, drowning in him, and you never wanted to surface. Never wanted to think about reality ever again.

"You're so cute like this," Sylus purred, punctuating each word with a savage grind of his pelvis against yours. "Brain empty and filled with too much cock to think. Should just keep you like this..."

His filthy praise melted your reservations, stoking the desperate frenzy consuming your body and mind. Nothing else mattered beyond the slick slide of flesh and the heady perfume of sex saturating the air. In this moment, Sylus owned you wholly, a willing slave to his lust. All you could do was surrender, drowning in the exquisite agony of your impending release.

The coil of tension in your core tightened with each passing second, your impending climax hovering just out of reach. Sylus sensed your mounting desperation, his rhythm faltering as he chased his own release.

"You're so close," he growled, his rhythm growing erratic as he chased his own completion. "I can feel you tightening up, greedy little thing."

"Go ahead, cum. Let me hear your pretty sounds."

The lewd demand shattered your composure, catapulting you into heaven and you practically screamed his name. Pleasure crashed through you like a tsunami, obliterating every coherent thought. All you knew was the pulsing ache in your core, the rhythmic throb of Sylus's cock buried deep, prolonging your climax until you couldn't take the sensations anymore and almost begged him to stop thrusting.

“Sylus…” you whimper weakly.

Your vision grew blurry as you teetered into overstimulation, your walls clamping down on Sylus's pistoning length like a vise. Thankfully, he was at his own end. You hear a guttural groan of your name in your ear, and then felt the hot splash of his seed painting your insides soon after. His thrusting completely stopped, and the both of you lay there, panting and unmoving.

It was only when you felt his warm seed spilling out onto the bed that you snapped back into reality.

"Did you-"

“Yes, I did it inside,” Sylus murmured, his voice calm, almost too calm. “Where else would it go?”

Before you could even process his words and sit up, he was on you, pinning your arms down to the bed with a swift, ruthless precision, as if anticipating your next move. The weight of him was suffocating, leaving you no room to escape. Panic surged through you, your body instinctively twisting and writhing beneath him, but it was useless. You were trapped.

“After your little escape," he continued, voice laced with playful amusement, "I’ve realized I need to put in more effort. Taming you isn’t as easy as I thought...a baby should be a nice, heavy, leash for you"

“Sylus… please,” you stammer, your heart pounding in your chest. Desperation claws at you as the gravity of his words sinks in. “We don’t need to do this. Not like this. Please, let’s solve this without a child?—I’ll do anything you want. I won’t try to run again, I swear.”

Tears blurred your vision as you begged, the words tumbling out in a frantic rush, your voice cracking with the weight of your fear. But Sylus just smiled, that soft, chilling smile that made your stomach drop. He didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he leaned closer, his hand disappearing beneath the bed.

“I know you won’t be running away again. In fact…”

Your breath hitched in your throat as you watched him, terror coiling tighter with every passing second. What was he doing? What was he reaching for? You searched your mind desperately, trying to think of anything, anything at all that might change his mind, but you knew better. Sylus was relentless. He hadn’t forgotten your attempts to resist, and now he was only more determined.

And then you felt it—the cold, unforgiving touch of metal snapping around your ankle.

Your eyes flew wide open, your pulse spiking as you looked down in horror. An ankle chain. You were shackled.

“No,” you whispered, your voice trembling. "No...is this..?"

“Anything I want, you say?” Sylus's voice oozed with satisfaction, a smile creeping across his lips as he leaned in closer. The warmth of his breath contrasted sharply with the cold metal now binding you in place.

“Then make us a baby, sweetie,” he purred, his fingers tracing lightly down your arm. “That’s what I want most right now.”

The weight of his words settled like ice in your chest. A shiver coursed through your body, your mind racing, searching for some way out, but the chain around your ankle clinked softly with every tiny movement, a reminder of how trapped you really were.

“It’s long enough to reach everything in here, including the toilet and shower,” Sylus said, his voice dripping with satisfaction as he leaned down to press a slow, deliberate kiss to your cheek.

You shuddered beneath him, your tears finally spilling over as the full weight of your situation crashed down on you. “Is this… my punishment for running?” you whispered, your voice fragile and trembling, as if the question itself might break you.

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes gleaming with something you couldn’t quite place. “No, it’s not a punishment,” he said, his tone soft but resolute. “It’s a necessity, honey.”

His words hung heavy in the air, sealing your fate as surely as the chain around your ankle.

Tears broke free, pouring down your face in uncontrollable waves as the reality of it all crushed you. You sobbed openly, your body shaking under the weight of it, and yet there was nothing you could do. Sylus leaned down, his presence overwhelming, his hand softly brushing the side of your tear-streaked face. His voice was low, almost soothing, as if he believed he was offering comfort instead of twisting the knife deeper.

“The faster you accept this,” he whispered, stroking your hair gently, “the easier it’ll be for you. Accept your place by my side and have my baby.”

"I'll take care of both of you, I promise."

His words only made the knot in your throat tighten further. You hated him. You hated him with every fiber of your being, but worst of all, you hated yourself. Hated the fact that you had once given yourself to him willingly, that you had let the devil himself have your body in a moment of weakness, as if you hadn’t known exactly what he was capable of.

The shame of it burned through you, deeper than any chain ever could. How had you fallen so far? How had you ever let him touch you, let him inside your body, your mind—your soul? The answer twisted cruelly in your gut.

But even despite all the burning hatred you had for him in this moment, another unknown feeling sprouted. One that ached and felt almost unbearable to think about. A longing. Festering within the walls of your strained heart and mind. You refused to acknowledge it though, choosing to drown in the sorrow of your new situation.

Sylus shifted beside you, wrapping his arms around you as if you were lovers instead of captor and captive. His warmth pressed against your skin, a twisted parody of intimacy, and you lay there, eyes fixed blankly on the ceiling. You felt his breathing slow beside you, felt his presence still as he settled in comfortably at your side. But you were miles away, staring into the abyss above, where there was no escape, no solace.

Only the cold, bitter truth. You had let the devil in, and now, there was no way out.

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hgfictionwriter · 3 days

Text

Self Control: Part Ten - Setback

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: Jessie suffers an injury during a game and has to navigate balancing her recovery and caring for you. She feels helpless as she tries to step up for you, but can't the way she wants to.

Warnings: Language. Slight angst.

A/N: Inspired by poor Jessie's injury during the Olympics. And everyone please knock on wood I'm not putting some bad mojo out there with this. Oh, and in this world Janine is still a Thorn 🙏 Rest of the series is here.

"-and Fleming is down. Oh, that looked like a hard hit. She's moving, but she's not getting up."

Football was a physical sport. She'd seen far too many friends ushered off the pitch to never fully, or sometimes even ever, return. She'd been extraordinarily lucky that she'd been more or less injury-free her career. However, sometimes she did take a few knocks.

Normally, she was most worried about the team anytime she was injured; that she was letting them down. But as you held her hand while she sat on the examination table in the medical assessment room, your eyes filled with concern and worry - at least for the short amounts of time she could manage to look at you; even with dimmed lights it was too damn bright - she felt most guilty about you.

"I'm confident we're looking at a Grade 2 concussion here," the team doctor said. "I'm not worried that we're into severe or Grade 3 territory. Y/N, I'm going to ask that you help monitor Jessie's symptoms and recovery over the next couple of weeks. If repeat vomiting occurs, extensive dizziness, or she's having prolonged confusion or headaches aren't improving, please contact me immediately."

Jessie had her eyes screwed shut. She tried to focus on her breathing and keeping herself steady as she attempted to will away the incessant pounding in her head. She opened them as the doctor finished speaking to see you nodding eagerly. Your eyes were trained on the woman before glancing back at Jessie and lifting her hand to give it a quick kiss.

"For the next couple of days - lots of rest. That means physical and mental. Very limited reading and screen time. And you're going to be really sensitive to lights and sounds, so a dark and quiet environment is best.

"Days three and four, you can start some light physical or mental activities again. Short, non-strenuous walks, for example. But listen to your body. Days five to seven, you can increase things a bit more, but-"

"We're moving in less than two weeks," Jessie interjected, wincing as she opened her eyes once more to look at the doctor. The doctor, who she knew well, gave her a look of warning, knowing where this was going.

"You should not be packing or moving furniture in two weeks," the doctor said firmly. "You can take on some light packing maybe 7-10 days from now, but carrying heavy boxes is out of the question."

Jessie shook her head and regretted it immediately, wincing sharply this time, a hand flying up to her temple as she grimaced in pain. Your hand came to her shoulder and she sat very still as she rode out a wave of pain.

"We'll hire packers," you told her sternly. "We already have movers anyway."

"No," Jessie returned stubbornly, still unable to open her eyes.

"Well, she's still coherent enough to argue with me, so I guess that's a good sign, right?" You relayed flatly to the doctor who chuckled.

"It is, actually," she said. "Y/N, you know my number. Feel free to contact me directly if you have any questions. Jessie," Jessie felt the doctor's hand on her shoulder and she slowly blinked her eyes open to face her, "behave yourself. I know you like to be busy and I know you want to take care of your fiancée, but you'll be able to get back to that much sooner if you listen to your body and to me."

"Mm," Jessie voiced noncommittally.

The doctor chuckled and spoke to you again.

"Okay, you can take her home now. And with all of this urgency I didn't even have a chance to ask how you're doing. How much longer?"

"About two months left," you answered.

"Oh my gosh. Final stretch, hey? How are you feeling?"

"I'm okay," you said. Jessie peeked an eye open to see your hand subconsciously rubbing your enlarged stomach while you continued to hold her hand in your other. "She's so active." You shot Jessie a sidelong, mildly teasing glance. "And at night in particular. I blame myself for that one - I'm the night owl of the two of us, so she must be getting that from me. But yeah, some of the third trimester symptoms are certainly popping up, but truly, I can't complain too much. Or shouldn't yet anyway," you finished with a smirk.

"Well, it'll be nice to get settled in your new place before the baby comes. I'm positive you'll sort out the logistics just fine," the doctor added pointedly and Jessie knew it was for her.

"That's the plan," you said. "It shouldn't be bad. We don't have too much stuff. Most of the furniture will be new and we're just getting all of it delivered after our move-in date."

"That's great. Well, Jessie, I will be seeing you in a week for a follow-up, but Y/N, if I don't see you anytime soon, I have my fingers crossed that the rest of your pregnancy goes smoothly. Can't wait to see pictures of your little one once she's born."

The walk out to the car was slow and tedious. Jessie tried to walk casually and easily, dismissing your supportive arm and wanting to walk on her own, but ended up bracing herself against a random car only ten feet in as she became disoriented. Your arms were around her in a second.

"Baby, come on. Don't be so stubborn. Put your arm around me," you told her both tenderly and firmly. Despite the medication the doctor gave her, her head was still pounding and she had to relent.

She was filled with self-contempt as you eased her into the passenger seat and gently closed the door, wary of both the jostling and sound.

"My baby," you cooed after you climbed in and were settled. You rubbed her thigh and placed the cold compress the doctor had given you into her hand. "Here, hold this against you. It'll help."

"I hate this," Jessie said, voice shuddering against her will.

"I know, love," you said gently. "Let's be grateful it's nothing more severe. I know that doesn't help you in this moment though. Let's get you home, alright?"

She opened her eyes to look at you. Your bump was nearly pressed against the wheel at this stage in your pregnancy.

Jessie sniffled and rubbed her face in aggravation. You shouldn't be taking care of her. You shouldn't be worrying about her. It should be the other way around.

Though you drove as steadily as you could the whole way home, even the slightest jostling or bumps sent pain through her. She gripped the seat tightly and breathed heavily as she fought off a persistent wave of nausea.

She leaned heavily on you despite herself as you both walked up to the apartment. You'd found a hat of hers in the trunk and put it on her to block out some of the lights she'd encounter on the journey up. She apologized repeatedly throughout the walk and you tutted in disapproval and shushed her.

You put her to bed and Jessie began sniffling again as emotions began to bubble up once more as she watched you going all around the apartment to get her set up and cared for.

At one point you were in digging through one of the bottom drawers in the bathroom for something. You held onto the counter with one hand to balance yourself and you huffed in exertion, your stomach very much in the way.

Jessie sat up, wanting to come over to help you. She grimaced as her head began to pound anew and her vision narrowed to a point. She swayed in bed for a second before she felt safe enough to move again. She'd only flung the covers off of herself and lowered her feet to the floor when you voice boomed from the other room.

"Jessie," your voice sharp and making her flinch. "Get back into bed," you said insistently, but much softer this time as you walked back over and gently pushed her back down. She whined and sniffled as you did so. You began to laugh and her eyes grew wide as she looked to you in disbelief.

"Why are you laughing?" Jessie asked, her voice so much weaker than she intended.

"You're being silly," you said through a residual laugh. "You're so stubborn. You were levelled onto the pitch, nearly unconscious, less than two hours ago. Please, just relax tonight. Can you do me that favour?"

"I should be helping you," she went on, her voice up an octave as she fought through emotion.

"You can help me by resting," you told her patiently. "Oh, I have to text your parents back. They're worried about you."

She really wasn't in the right state of mind, because suddenly she felt her face screw up and she began sobbing, made worse by the physical pain the action triggered inside of her.

"Jess," your tone gentle and inquiring, but clearly in shock at the sudden outburst. You sat down next to her immediately and began caressing her head. "What's going on?"

Jessie winced in pain as her shoulders shook while she cried.

"Oh my gosh," you said, underlying concern in your voice as you began to rub her back and you took her hand. "Is it your head? What can I do, baby?"

"I'm letting you down," Jessie forced out, breath hitching at the end of her sentence. "I should be taking care of you."

"Oh my God. Babe, stop that," you said gently, but urgently. "You're not letting me down at all. You take care of me all the time. You're injured. It's okay."

"I'm not a good partner," she sobbed. She heard the sound of surprise from you, but she couldn't stop herself. "I'm not around enough. And that's bad enough. And now we're having a baby? I'm never going to be around. I'm going to be an absent parent. And even if I'm here, I might be injured and you'll have to take care of us both."

"Jess. Oh my God," you said in bewilderment as you rubbed her back further. "Baby, please. None of those things are true. Take a breath."

You placed a hand on her chest, pressing firmly and somehow it immediately caused her to slow her breathing. She brought her hand to yours and clutched it tightly.

"Breathe," you said patiently. "It's going to be okay."

Within those few moments, Jessie's breathing began to normalize and she felt her pulse slow once more. She exhaled and the tightness she'd held in her brow relaxed with it.

"It's okay, baby. Just breathe," you coaxed softly as you continued to rub her back and hold your hand and hers to her chest.

Her eyes remained closed as she let you calm her. Her shoulders hitched periodically with a residual cry, but eventually, she sniffled and opened her eyes to look up at you. The room was dark, but she could still make out your features.

"I don't want to let you down," she whispered, voice still trembling as her throat tightened once more, emotions threatening to spill over once more.

"You never let me down," you told her resolutely. "Ever. And I mean that." You let those words sink in before carrying on. "You are the absolute best partner I could ever hope for."

Jessie watched quietly as you smiled, but it faltered. Looking closer she saw tears starting to form in your eyes.

"I'm serious. You know my family. My parents marriage was absolute shit. I didn't know - for a long time - that relationships could be good. That they should be. The way you love me, the way you care for me, is something I didn't even want to hope for because it seemed so impossible. And then even if it was possible, there was no way I'd find someone like that for me. That I would deserve to be loved like that."

"Babe-" Jessie went to interject, but you stopped her.

"When I tell you you're incredible, I really mean it. You're far more than I could've ever hoped or dreamed for. You show me more love and affection in a day than I felt for years at a time. I swear. So please don't ever worry about letting me down."

Jessie was sniffling now, blinking tears onto her pillow and she lifted your hand to kiss it, holding it there against her lips and clutching you tightly. She hated that you felt that way for so many years. And though she was happy that she could make you feel loved like that, it broke her heart, too. She just couldn't fathom someone not loving you wholly and completely.

You leaned down and kissed her forehead, removing your hand from her back to caress the side of her face. You chuckled lightly, speaking against her forehead.

"Short of cheating on me or having some secret family on the side, you could never let me down."

"Babe," Jessie complained, shifting her head to try to look at you. "I would never do that."

"Just saying," you said lightly as you sat back up. "That's the line. For clarity purposes - even if you fell out of love with me and chose to end things, you still wouldn't be letting me down. I'd be devastated, of course, but I would respect that and still love you."

"Babe," Jessie started whimpering again and you consoled her.

"Okay, okay," you placated. "Last thing. Yes, you travel. Yes, you'll be away sometimes. And yes, it is possible that you could get injured again. But that's okay. Of course, I don't want you to get injured, but because I love you. You need to understand that we're partners. We take care of each other.

"And lots of parents travel for work. I know you sometimes forget, but I'm pretty independent and I'm capable," you smirked. "Plus, we have lots of support in case I or our daughter need anything while you're away. What stands out most to me is our daughter will grow up seeing her mom pursue what she loves, working hard to be the best as what she does, and inspiring a new generation of players. That means so much and I wouldn't change it."

You laid another kiss on her forehead. "Get some rest, baby. I love you so much. I'm going to take care of a few things, but I'll be back soon and we can lay together, okay?"

She gave a faint noise of acceptance and you rose from the bed, pushing off slowly, now having to lean back and get your balance to counter the weight of the baby. Jessie's hand shot out to brace your back, and though you delivered a stare her way after you were steady, it dissolved into a smirk.

"See? You're still helping me."

------

The week dragged on so horribly slowly for Jessie. She was so frustrated and upset with herself. She would've always wanted to be able to get up and go, do things, but especially now. You’d taken over essentially all of the household chores and errands and she felt exponentially guilty.

One day you came home, shuffling through the door with bags of groceries hanging off your arms. Jessie shot up off the couch to help you, but her vision began to peter out. She paused a few steps in to brace herself against a nearby chair.

"Jessie," you chided.

She could hear you putting down the various bags. And she pre-emptively put up her hands in defense. "I'm fine." When she opened her eyes again, she was met with a disapproving look from you. She dropped your gaze immediately.

"Sit down, please," you instructed.

"I can help you put everything away," she insisted as she tried to push past you, only to have you hold her back.

"Jess," your voice was curt and she knew you meant business. She could feel your gaze burning into the back of her head and she forced herself to look at you. You went on softer this time. "I'm sure you could help me with groceries. But I'm fine. Honestly. You can help me most by doing as your doctor said, and taking it easy."

She was contemplating a rebuttal, which you saw it coming from a mile away and you continued.

"Don't make me resort to tactics of emotional warfare," you said sarcastically and Jessie huffed, recalling how you told her the other day that the more you had to wrangle her, the more your daughter kicked and squirmed and tired her out.

Jessie sighed begrudgingly and collapsed into the couch, an instant pang shooting through her head at the jarring motion. Served her right for being petulant, she thought ruefully. Despite her antics, she felt your hand caress the side of her head.

"It's like a preview into parenting," you joked before kissing her head and returning to the groceries. Jessie opened her eyes and glared at your retreating form.

"Yeah? Are you going to threaten our kid with guilt trips, too?" She'd meant it as a bit of a snide joke, but immediately regretted her words as soon as she'd said them. Your movements stilled and you slowly turned back to face her, your expression one that made Jessie sink further into her seat.

"Do not start with me, Jessica."

"I'm sorry," she muttered. "That was uncalled for."

"You're still injured. A brain injury at that," you replied as you went back to the bags before giving her a pointed look. "I'll chalk it up to that. You get one freebie."

Jessie was silent as she watched you work. Your movements were laboured at times and she see how much effort it took to do certain tasks. Still, it was true, you managed just fine.

When you were finished, you returned to the living room and sat heavily next to her, a sigh of relief on your lips as you leaned back. You were short of breath, and Jessie looked away quickly when you felt her watchful gaze and peeked open at eye at her. You held out a hand, gesturing for her to relax.

"She's pushing against my diaphragm; it's making it harder to breath, it's not a big deal," you reassured her pre-emptively. You placed your hands on the cushions and pushed yourself up to sit straighter before you met her eyes again. You took her hand.

"I know you want to help. But you have to pace yourself. You can't spring up and sprint over, or you can't be up and down trying to pack and lift things. Not right now. You know better than that," you said gently.

"I already texted Janine and Kelli about packing. They agreed to come over tomorrow," she pouted, spurred on by another failed attempt of hers yesterday. You sighed and kissed her cheek.

"Thank you for doing that. I feel much better about that approach," you told her.

"I'm sorry," Jessie said, fingers fidgeting as she remained slumped on the couch. She sat up and gave you a hopeful look. "I'm feeling better every day, though. I'll be able to help out a lot more around the house soon."

You gave her a patient look and cupped her face in your hands.

"I'm pregnant - not infirm. Did you know...there are thousands of women, for one reason or another, who do this alone? I am very, very lucky that I have you and you’ve been so attentive and wonderful. But there are many women who manage all by themselves. I can do the same - not even, actually, since you’re still here and supportive - for a couple of weeks."

Despite your words of reassurance, Jessie's face fell and she snuggled into you, resting her head on your shoulder. She frowned as she felt your body jostle with a soft chuckle as you wrapped your arms around her. You kissed the crown of her head.

"My sweet baby," you chuckled further against her though she groaned. "Don't worry. A few weeks from now when I'm complaining 24/7 and can barely get out of bed, you'll be relishing these moments."

--------

True to their word, the next day Kelli and Janine were over and were making serious progress on packing up the apartment under Jessie's and your watchful eye.

Despite their help, it was a struggle for Jessie. She was very particular about things like this and she wanted things packed up and organized in specific order and way. With some coaching from you, she'd had to let some of that go, but it wasn't easy.

She and you packed up the lighter things, but anything heavy, and particular full boxes, were left to the girls. And what upset her even more was that she was having trouble focusing. Between all of the lights - clearly, none of you could pack in the dark - and physical exertion, she found herself having to take more breaks than she liked and you'd had to take over quite a bit in directing the girls.

Still, when she was able to, she tried.

"Oh, that needs to go over here," Jessie interrupted as Kelli was setting down a box in the obviously wrong pile. Kelli rolled her eyes good-naturedly and picked up the box once more with a heaving motion, balancing it against her thigh as she adjusted her grip before moving it to the appropriate area.

"Better, princess?" She asked, eliciting a scowl out of Jessie. She knew Kelli was just joking, but it was grating on her. Kelli called her that a few times now, along with a couple of other cracks in that vein.

Her friends, throughout her entire life, had always loved teasing her. Maybe it was the way she blushed when she got flustered or worked up, but people just seemed to love poking at her. Normally, she took it in stride, but it was hard to laugh them off today.

She had all of this mapped out and was fully ready to tackle it alone. Did Kelli think she wanted to ask them for help? No. She hated it.

You were supposed to have your feet up without a worry while she took care of it all. Instead, you were on your feet, packing alongside them and doing more than your fair share of directing and corralling. She saw how you stood there, a hand on your back as you caught your breath, a veiled wince now and then. She could see how sore and tired you were getting.

Her stare followed Kelli as she bounded back over to Janine to gather up some more items. Jessie could feel the heavy tension between her shoulder blades and she felt her face and ears growing hot. She took a steadying breath, she knew this feeling; if she wasn't careful she'd be blinking back tears soon.

She released a slow, deep breath as she returned her attention to the box in front of her and labelled it accordingly. She was setting down the marker when out of the corner of her eye she caught you waving Kelli over. She watched as you spoke in a hushed tone to her and nodded to the other room.

Jessie frowned as she watched you two retreat. Something seemed off, confirmed when you partially closed the door behind you. Jessie quietly padded over and held her ear close to the opening. She whipped her head around, gritting her teeth momentarily at the way the sudden motion aggravated her symptoms, when she felt Janine sneak up, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"What's going on?" Janine mouthed, ever curious. Jessie shrugged the girl's hand off her shoulder tempermentally.

"I don't know," she mouthed back with a mild glare. Janine rolled her eyes and they both leaned in.

"-I appreciate your help. I know you don't have to be doing this. But you need to stop making jokes. She already feels bad enough. She doesn't need you making cracks at her expense. She wouldn't do that to you if situations were reversed. So stop. Please."

Jessie's stomach sank. Now you were defending her as well. She went to push the door open, but Janine pulled her back and away, well out of earshot.

"Let it go," Janine told her.

The emotions Jessie had been working to keep at bay just minutes ago were now raging forward. Her ears were burning and she sniffled.

"Jess," Janine warned her with underlying care in her voice. She knew the last thing Jessie would want right now is to have an emotional meltdown. Janine placed her hands on Jessie's shoulders and spoke calmly, but firmly. "It's fine. Nothing to get worked up about. Y/N loves you a ton. She's being a mama bear to you right now. And fair enough. You're not feeling well, so she's looking out for you. Kelli's a big girl. She'll get it. She'll be fine."

Jessie sniffled and folded her arms against herself.

"It just sucks," she said as she worked to regain her composure.

"I know," Janine said as she patted her on the shoulder. "You'll be all better soon though. Take it easy on yourself." She smirked. "Y/N said you were planning to paint a few rooms in the new place a couple weeks from now. You're on your own for that."

Although she fought it, Jessie had to laugh. She was about to comment when she noticed the door open behind Janine and you and Kelli stepped out. She studied you both and to her surprise nothing seemed odd.

Janine followed her gaze and looked back at her with a wink before going back to help Kelli, who, at least as far as Jessie could see, was in fine spirits.

You must've noticed Jessie's behaviour because you soon approached.

"Everything okay, babe?" You asked.

She looked to you, her gaze eventually falling to your rounded stomach. She placed her hands on your pronounced bump and ran a thumb lovingly along it before lifting her gaze back up to you and all of the boxes around; a physical manifestation of the new chapter you both were starting together. She smiled at you.

"Yeah. Everything's good."

#jessie fleming #jessie fleming x reader #woso x reader #woso imagine #canwnt x reader #wlw fiction

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strwberri-milk · 14 hours

Note

Oooh could you give reactions of the LaDS guys when MC rescues them?? I can imagine their stunned faces followed by intense worry for MC

Zayne didn't think that disaster would strike the hospital but here he is using his Evol to try and help patients and their families escape. Anybody who had an offensive Evol was part of this shoddily thrown together front lines, desperately trying to buy time until the authorities arrived.

He thinks he's about to be closed in as the roof comes down, doing his best to try and lessen the damage when he sees you come to the rescue. Somehow you manage to push him out of the way, rolling the two of you to safety as you get up to continue your path. He immediately grabs you by the wrist, wordlessly asking if you're okay. You offer him a quick nod before running off to continue, both of you understanding that time is of the essence.

When he finds you again later he's giving you a full physical, wanting to make sure that you're okay despite the accident. He can only rest once you're safe, holding you close.

If you sustained a life threatening injury he's there the entire time. He's making sure that you're okay, monitoring your progress as much as the doctors will allow him to. They don't want him getting in the way, knowing that he's especially emotional because it's you despite never having seen him like this before. He knows he shouldn't be interfering but honestly, he can't help it. He's worried and he's going to blame himself for the rest of his life if you don't get better.

Xavier lost his mind when he lost sight of you, trying his best to fight while also looking for you everywhere. When he finally sees you after you took out a Wanderer he pulls you into his chest, hugging you tightly as he asks you if you're alright. He does his best to appraise your current condition, doing whatever he can to mitigate any pain you feel and trying to convince you to rest before things get worse.

The attack doesn't seem to be letting up at all and you know that the two of you have to split up to continue no matter how much he hates it. He decides fuck the orders and follows you anyway, knowing that he won't be able to focus if you're not there with him.

He hears the Wanderer too late - turning around and drawing his sword half a second later than he should when he hears your guns going off. The Wanderer immediately turns to you, giving him an opening to strike back. It's faster than either of you thought it was, the scream he hears from you shutting him down.

He's glad you saved him but not at the cost of your life and he wastes the creature, knowing his body will suffer the consequences from how powerful his attack was but that doesn't matter if it means it saved you. He immediately takes you to get help, refusing to leave your side until you're actually 100%. He promised himself he'd protect you and he's going to be even more protective of you from now on.

Rafayel didn't think that his studio would be ambushed like this but he was more than capable of handling it - or so he thought. He was close to burning down his whole studio if he needed to in order to escape the assailants, surprised when they suddenly start collapsing without him doing anything.

When you emerge with your weapon drawn he's happy to see you but immediately worries about how you got through the other people they said they brought with them. You were able to take them down thankfully but he's not convinced you're alright, securing his studio with you to ensure that the two of you have nothing else to worry about.

If you sustain a life threatening injury he's immediately calling for help but also takes care of you right then and there. He doesn't want to lose any time to waiting for medical staff to arrive or your fellow hunters - he knows how to take care of you and his fire Evol is thankfully good at cauterising wounds despite how awful he feels about you trying to be brave as he burns your skin. The scars that linger upset him deeply because to him, they represent a time he failed you but in spite of them he doesn't let it drag him down. He knows it'd just make you more upset to know that's how he feels so he just focuses on making sure his skills stay sharp enough to protect you.

Sylus doesn't normally get attacked when he goes out on a job but this was a first. He was a little underprepared, thinking he'd have a quiet evening but the fight wasn't too rough, thankfully. He turns, preparing to leave without realising that there was another figure hidden in the shadows, ready to strike him down when he hears someone fall behind him. You stand over their unconscious body, a little worse for wear but nothing some TLC couldn't solve.

Sylus insists on taking you home, knowing that while you look fine there was always a slight chance that something was being overlooked and he did not want to be negligent in your care. He doesn't like the fact that you got attacked most likely because of your association with him, telling you that you need to be more careful to avoid things like that happening.

When you do get attacked because of your connection with him he has no reservations killing the person who had the audacity to hurt you. He takes you back home, patching you up and making sure you're okay in the comfort of his house. You have round the clock care and you think that Sylus isn't too shaken about your near death experience until you realise his sleep is even lighter one night. He can't sleep properly and probably won't for a while. He'll always be even more alert, constantly having either Mephisto or himself on your trail to ensure that nothing like that happens again.

#love and deepspace x reader #l&ds x reader #zayne x reader #xavier x reader #rafayel x reader #sylus x reader #l&ds zayne x reader #l&ds xavier x reader #l&ds rafayel x reader #l&ds sylus x reader #lads zayne x reader #lads xavier x reader #lads rafayel x reader #lads sylus x reader

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quirrrky · 2 days

Text

—•✦ STUPID CUPID!

BOKUTO's got it all, but while all his friends have special someone in their lives, all thanks to him, he was left single and alone until that one accidental night ‧˚꒰happy birthday, bokuto!! 🥳꒱༘⋆

3k+ f!reader, accidental marriage, suggestive

Bokuto “The Volleyball Hero” was the center of MSBY Jackals. He got special interviews, merch of his own and even a vlog series for god’s sakes. He seemed like he’s the most fortunate among the members, but little to what the outsiders know, he was the most envious.

“I hope you both fulfill the love, family and happiness you're dreaming of,” Kenma called for a toast for his newly wed best friend and his wife.

Everyone around Bokuto was getting married, engaged or partnered up.

Let’s not go anywhere far. Just take Kuroo right there who was so busy sneaking kisses from his bride from time to time.

Not long ago, he was single as a pringle like Bokuto too. Man had casual to shallow relationships but nothing’s ever going anywhere, until that day Bokuto brought him as a plus-one at a wedding. Kuroo hit it off with another plus-one who’s not even related to the couple. It was love at first sight according to him, and now, he’s the one getting married.

Bokuto was left single.

He took a deep breath and saw his kouhai, Akaashi. Since he had been an athlete, he seemed to see his junior less. Excitement brewed inside him only to turn cold right away as he watched one of MSBY’s road managers lace her fingers with Akaashi’s. Yeah, it was all because of Bokuto’s meddling as well.

Akaashi was an editor of a Volleyball-centric manga and he needed Bokuto’s insights back then and so Bokuto gave one of MSBY’s road managers as contact person to communicate with Akaashi. Now, they were set to get married next year too.

A long sigh escaped through him. Everywhere he looked, everyone was happily in the arms of another. He slumped his shoulders. What’s so good about romance and relationships anyway? It’s not as if it’s as fun as Volleyball.

He pouted.

Bokuto was jealous, seething envious.

He wanted someone to give him a loooong kiss after winning a match just like Atsumu and his fiance. He imagined someone would call him long-distance whenever he’s away like how his pretty manager would do for Akaashi. He would very much love to look at someone and laugh with her like the world only belongs to the two of them just as how much Kuroo was having the time of his life right now with the love of his life.

All of them happened because of him yet he was left all by himself.

Tears triggered to fall from his eyes, but he swallowed every drop of them in. He was genuinely happy for his friends, and he wished, with all his heart, that their relationships would be successful and fulfilling.

Perhaps, he’s lucky in Volleyball but totally sucks in love. This is life. You can't have it all. So he won’t. That simple.

All night long, Bokuto partied like an animal he never was. He drank all the hard liquor together with the bitter truth that he’s the fun single uncle his nephews and nieces would love to play with.

“Bokuto-san, you've had enough! That’s- that’s too much!” He heard Akaashi called out to him, but he didn’t care.

Curse all the gods! All this time he was playing cupid to all his friends and now he’s the one without anyone.

“F@#k you!” He shouted to the heavens. Big F to that dumbass Cupid! He had been doing that loser’s job all along yet he ain’t having any reward. Asshole better train. He’d been missing his arrows when it came to him. “Aaarghh! Fu-”

Bokuto clasped on his chest. A strong sting came right through and, all of a sudden, he bumped onto someone. He looked back and a shroud of white flooded his vision.

Is he dead?

But how can he hear birds chirping?

Are there birds in heaven?

Well, there can’t be any in hell so he’s lucky he’s in heaven.

Bokuto opened his eyes as he slowly brought himself to sit upright. He rubbed the sleep off and took in his surroundings. Fancy room. He thought. Was this his apartment in heaven?

He glanced at his side, and he marveled at the ethereal being he saw. Must be an angel. A smile appeared across his face. He’s so lucky to wake up next to an angel, indeed. Itching, he poked a finger on her cheek.

Her eyes gradually opened, and he sure heard a chorus sang in his ears by how beautiful she was. She got up, wearing a large white tee, which looked immaculate on her by the way. She didn’t need wings to fly. She had already taken flight in Bokuto’s head.

Wait! Was this even true? You blinked twice. Thrice. Four times.

"B-Bokuto..." Your eyes widened. He’s shirtless, looking so hot this early in the morning beside you in bed...

Last night...

You inspected your clothing which gave out every sign of intimacy and if you were right...

"Y/N!" It finally registered in his head! He's still alive and it was you? He studied you closely, taking in your swollen lips, flushed cheeks and beautifully disarrayed hair. You're lovely. You're still an angel regardless if he's just dreaming.

Who thought you were this pretty all along! Bokuto's the type of guy who could never take a hint unless you initiate and you...You never initiate nor flirt with him obviously that's why he'd never really see, consider you in that way.

Maybe it wasn't Cupid's fault, it's his. An angel was just around him but he always failed to notice.

Gulping the thick lump in your throat, if you would remember correctly...

You turned to the bedside table on your left. Surprise coloring your expression as you take the paper on the table.

It was a dream. It was a dream. It was a dream.

But no.

Bokuto took a long read at the paper you were holding. “W-Wait- We are...”

“Yes.”

You were, indeed, married to Bokuto Koutaro.

One of the guests at Kuroo’s wedding was a government employee, who had the authority to officiate a marriage with just a stamp and now...

“Semi!” Bokuto proclaimed. “It’s him! What happened?” he asked. “How?”

You blushed. You’d rather not recall what happened last night which was a bit clear for you unlike Bokuto who was totally clueless. You snuck a glance at him. He’s so comfortable in his own skin, attractive mire than he knows it, and you were flustered, seeing him half uncovered.

“I-I-I guess we better get dressed first!”

“Oh! Yeah!” He agreed and stood up. The blanket slipped off his body completely, unraveling what’s left unraveled that had your eyes popping at the sight in front of you. “I’m sorry! I'm sorry!”

You turned away red-faced.

You were the content creator especially assigned by the JVA to Bokuto. Since he had a strong clout and they can utilize it to promote volleyball, he had exclusive interviews and vlog series, which were something you were doing for him.

You probably know Bokuto more than himself by now with all the research you've done about him and with all the time you spent with each other.

Since you were assigned to him, your career was centered around him, which was your entire life right now. You would be lying if you'd say you didn't find him attractive at all. You may have quite a soft spot for him you kept on burying to death, keeping things professional between you two until last night. If there's something aside from volleyball he's a pro at it's definitely...

You shook your head. You shouldn't be thinking these things.

Once dressed, you both decided to seek Kuroo's help. After all, the newly kept hinself sober last night.

“So we got married at the same day, huh?” Kuroo told Bokuto while waiting for Semi on the phone. The two of them talked over the guy in question to seek for a solution.

Apparently, according to Semi, divorce was the easiest method since annulment would be pricier.

“He said we have to divorce,” Bokuto informed you. Now, this part came with a little bit of disappointment for him. “The papers will come in a month or few.”

He was lowkey sad. He got his chance for a love life only to be taken away in a snap.

"No worries," you said. "I can wait."

Somehow, you shared the same sentiments as him. Despite your close relationship professionally, you'd want to get to know him more...personally—not as an athlete, but as an individual.

You were about to exit the hotel but a small commotion suddenly made its way towards you.

The reporters and vloggers were quick to pick up on the news, and as soon as someone saw you both together, they all approached with questions.

Bokuto couldn’t lie as he was actually proud and happy to have you, while you were worried that your accidental marriage might affect his image and sponsorship.

You tightly held onto his hand and looked at him. He leaned down and you whispered. “I can be your wife.” His eyes grew in surprise. “For a while.”

An ecstatic grin appeared on his face. Who would’ve thought he’d be so lucky? He got an angel as his wife, though he felt so stupid not to realize how good of a match you two would make until something unforeseenike this would happen.

Bokuto's quick to pull you close to him and he proudly announced that he’s officially a married man. You couldn’t help but feel the same happiness he was radiating. You giggled just watching him. He glanced back at you, eyes watering with gratitude.

“You’re the best!”

Sure, he already said that to you a hundred of times, but there's something about the way he said it this time that made it different.

•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•

You both agreed to live together in the meantime since people’s noses would be up his business. Also, soon, he’d be away for overseas training so it wouldn't be much of a big deal.

Bokuto took his role as a husband very seriously though. He’d welcome you with a big tight hug whenever he’d come home from practice. After all, you have already done more than that the very first time you got re-acquainted.

You’d spend the rest of the day eating and doing chores together. Some nights, you’d be playing card games and watching movies together just like two best friends, enjoying each other’s company in cold nights.

“There you go! Catch him! Go!” Bokuto screamed at the TV.

“Uhm...I think that’s the killer though,” you pointed out. “He’s chasing after the victim.”

Bokuto stopped, stupefied. Damn! How could he look so much like a loser in front of you. You just laughed at him. It was not mocking, rather it was very endearing. Just watching you laugh sort of made him much bubblier too.

Silly! He was so silly. He laughed at himself and you both shared that small but warm moment. It felt so good he didn’t want it to end.

Aaaargh! He was truly an idiot for realizing that you were there right beside him all along and he kept his sights to non-sense pursuits. It didn't matter now what mattered the most was he got you right with him at this very moment.

Days turned into a week and it’s time for his overseas training. Bokuto felt a little off. Everybody could tell that he wasn't his usual chirpy self. He got so used to being around you that not having you in a day made him lose all balance in spirits. A pout never left his face the entire flight.

They took a break from practice and his teammates were teasing each other when his phone rang. Lazily, he looked into it and his face lit up when he saw it was you.

“Y/N! It’s youuu!” He exclaimed with enthusiasm. “You called!”

“Of course,” you said. “You were away so I thought I might check up on you.”

Timezones had it. It was during this time when you’d both watch your favorite show together, so it reminded you of him. And...maybe a day without him was something so new now for you.

His smile stretched from ear to ear. “I never thought you would! It’s great to hear your voice.”

You giggled from the other line.

“Me too.”

“Will you call me tomorrow before the game too?” His tone was almost pleading.

“Sure,” you said, rolling all over the bed like a giddy high school girl.

“Yes! How ‘bout even after the game? Then the next day?”

“I would. Everyday.”

Atsumu quirked up an eyebrow, watching Bokuto go from zero to a hundred. Just what kind of vitamins did he take just now to be so bolstered up at an instant like that.

“What’s with him?” The blonde asked his teammates.

Hinata scooted close to Atsumu and whispered like a gossiping old lady. “Y/N...”

“Ohhhh...” Tsumu reacted as they talked about Bokuto and his express wedding setup, but the person in topic had all his ears on you over the phone.

Distance didn't matter between the two of you. He enjoyed listening and talking to you over the phone. It also made coming home more exciting. He never felt this way before.

“Y/N!” Bokuto announced, arriving home. You turned in anticipation and he copped you in his arms and twirled you around like a Disney princess.

You were in a fit of laughter and he simply found joy in your happiness.

“Miss you so much!” He hugged you super tight, rubbing his cheek against yours.

“Me too! Me too! I stopped watching the series because I’m waiting for you.”

“Oh, Y/N!” he exclaimed then remembered, “I smelled like airplane! I better take a bath first before we get back to episode 7.”

You laughed and he headed off to the bathroom, while you set aside his luggage and kept some of his stuff.

“Y/N! My angel!” he called from inside the bathroom and you covered your face. He was always so cheesy like that even if it’s just you two and you’re still not used to it. “I forgot to bring my towel with me.”

You grabbed his towel and knocked on the door. He partially opened the door, showing you a glimpse of his well-toned abs and a slight peek at his bare pelvis and legs. You reached the towel to him not looking at back at his direction.

“Are you embarrassed?” he asked, curiously.

“Y-Yes,” you admitted, flushed to the neck. “Are you not?”

“Why would I?” Bokuto wrapped the towel around his waist. “I believe I look good,” he said. “The same as you.”

“W-What?” Your face heated up profusely.

“I think you look good with or withou-”

“Stop!” You ran away, diving into your bed and hiding under the blankets. You knew you couldn’t say no if he’d ever make a move. Under the context of your agreement, you were married..for a while. You also live uder one room, so the possibility of that is highly likely.

You heard his steps getting closer. He sat beside you and lifted the blanket, revealing your bashful self underneath.

He giggled. “You’re just so cute. Do you know that?” His face inched closer to yours. He kissed your nose and you closed your eyes. Next thing you knew, he had already captured your lips. His arms now caging you as you got lost, fallen under his spell.

His eyes were so loving when you’re under him. Peeling you off from where you hide, his smiled like he couldn’t believe what he’s seeing. “You look so good. So good just like how I thought.”

Right then and there, you allowed yourself to believe him and get swept away.

•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•

Koutaro usually comes home early but he was getting home a little late recently. You were glancing at the clock when the doorbell rang and you thought it was him. He probably left his keys again. You headed towards the door and opened it.

“Mail for Bokuto Koutaro-san,” the mail man informed and you signed the receiving form.

You read the delivery details attached on the envelope.

From: Semi Eita

You gasped.

Divorce papers. You knew this would be the divorce papers you and Koutarou requested when you initially found out that you got married by accident.

And you remembered that this setup was only for a while.

Your heart ached so suddenly. You didn’t want this to end. You didn't want you and Kotarou to end. You might not start the way normal couples do, what you had for him was real. At least, for the few months you spent with each other, it seemed so real. But was it ever real for him too?

You must’ve prepared yourself when you agreed to this arrangement.

Tears crawled down your cheeks. You’re in love with Koutarou, but you must do the right thing.

The door to your, no, his apartment opened. “Y/N, my angel! I’m back hooome! Where are you?” Bokuto excitedly announced, but his face dropped to be welcomed by your crestfallen face. “What happened? Why are you...”

You wiped your tears away and forced a smile. “No, this...is just...nothing. Nothing really!”

He sat beside you. Before he could even tease you, you handed over the envelope to him.

You heard the material being torn open as you focused your vision to your hands on your lap.

Several scenarios played in your head. It’s either he’d play it cool because all this time he knew what he’s singing for, and all this was just a random episode in his life—something he could easily shrug off. The other one was the probability that he loved you the same, but he wouldn’t want to ruin the agreement between you and him, so he’d gladly set you free.

You weren’t prepared for this. Could you ask for one more night, days, weeks, months, years with him? Would he allow that? Do you really have the courage to ask that of him? But you knew your heart would be broken into shards once he rejected you.

Your mind spiralled out of control.

“Is this...why you’re sad, Y/N?” he asked, full of concern. You couldn’t lie about that. “Actually, I asked Semi about this. I really wanted to divorce you immediately.”

You pinched close your eyes and gripped the fabric of your skirt.

“But seeing that this got you sad, I guess, I better tell the truth.” He took your hand and cupped it between his. “I want us to divorce so I can do things properly.”

You raised your head to look at him.

He knelt down on the floor and brought your hand over his cheek. “Oh, how could I even hurt you? It’s my fault I made you cry like this.”

“Koutaro...” you mumbled in confusion.

“My friends are helping me plan things. Kuroo even helped me pick, but this couldn’t wait.” Scurrying inside his pocket, he pulled out a box, flipped it open and revealed a diamond ring. “I want to marry you properly, Y/N.”

Your tears of sadness were replaced with pleasant surprise. Your hands flew to your mouth.

“Now, this wasn’t as grand as we are thinking of but...” His lips quivered and soon he joined you in sobbing. “I can’t afford to see you crying. I can’t break up with you, Y/N. Ilove you. You’re my angel. How can I survive knowing that I let you fly away?”

You lovingly laughed at his signature dramatics and you knelt beside him, engulfing him in a warm embrace. “I love you, too, Koutaro.” You parted a little, looking him in the eye. “I’ll marry you.”

He burst out in happiness as you giggled like pre-school kids encountering the magic of puppy love.

Bokuto recalled wishing for this not a while back...To laugh like the rest of the world doesn't matter just like Kuroo and his wife back then when you two first met.

Now, he’s got a wife too.

Maybe it wasn't Cupid who was stupid all along. Maybe it was him. The love of his life was always right in front of him yet he failed to notice.

Thanks to Cupid for doing his job at last. He finally struck an arrow to the woman Bokuto could never live without.

@pixelcafe-network

#bokuto x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #bokuto koutaro x reader #bokuto scenarios #bokuto fluff #haikyuu scenarios #hq bokuto #haikyuu bokuto #haikyuu fluff #hq fluff

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msschemmenti · 3 days

Text

sing with me please

emily prentiss x singer!reader

prompt: reader and emily are dating and she’s a rising artist on her first small tour. she’s been gone for weeks but is back in dc for a show. obviously emily is there and reader begs for emily to come on stage and sing their song with her to close out the show.

a/n: au inspired by this picture of paget and this series i’ve been writing for myself about a singing reader/oc. also this is not proofread at all. let me know what you think— and if you’re interested in more stuff like this :)

song featured : juna - clairo

“God, i can’t wait to see you.” y/n breathed down the phone quietly.

“Oh trust me, I’m right there with you. I’m starting to think I should’ve just taken the time off and gone with you.” Emily groaned into the phone from her desk.

“Oh I don’t want to hear it, I tried everything I could to get you to come along. And I mean everything. But you’re married to the job.” y/n replied with a tease.

“Aw, come on. I feel like I haven’t been here long enough to take three months off to follow my pop star girlfriend on her first-ever tour. Plus, it’s not like the world knows who you write all those love songs about anyway. And stop saying I’m married to the job, you know I hate that.” Emily all but whined.

“Right right right. Well, none of that matters now, because in just a few hours you’ll be front-row being serenaded for a good two hours.”

Emily grinned at the thought of having her girlfriend’s attention in a room full of fans. “Having my favorite singer’s attention in a room full of her adoring fans, sounds like a dream come true. What time should I get there?”

“Looks like this shoot is going to run over, so I might not be able to see you before the show. Either way, DeeDee has your name on the list already so you’ll be taken to your seat as soon as you’re there. Are you bringing anyone with you? I can give DeeDee their names too.” y/n rambled in thought.

Emily eyed the bullpen curiously, she hadn’t exactly thought to ask if anyone wanted to go with her. It felt a little too personal and after all this time on the team, she feared Garcia’s reaction to her having a serious girlfriend without her knowledge. “No, it’ll just be me. I’m sure everyone has plans. It is Friday after all.”

y/n chuckled softly at her girlfriend’s words, “Okay, make sure you text me when you get to the venue so I can let everyone know.”

“Yes ma’am. And after the show?” Emily asked hopefully. She really missed having her girlfriend home.

“I’m DC based for the next three months.” y/n grinned.

“Oh thank God.” Emily sighed in relief causing y/n to giggle softly.

“You can thank DeeDee for convincing the label to let me write and record here.”

“Well DeeDee has a very expensive bottle of wine with her name on it.”

There was a bit of shuffling on the other end of the phone and Emily knew the signs all too well, “Listen Em, I’ve got to go. They’re ready for the next outfit. Remember to text me.”

“Okay, I will. I’ll see you later.” Emily smiled.

“Yes, see you later. Love you.” y/n whispered before ending the call and handing her phone back to her manager.

“Hi DC.” y/n spoke into the microphone with a bright smile. The room filled with cheers almost instantly as she spoke and her cheeks grew red under the praise. “Oh you all are too sweet. How are we feeling tonight?”

y/n scanned the audience waving happily until her eyes fell on the VIP area she’d requested for Emily. Her eyes lighting up instantly as she caught Emily with her hands cupped around her mouth cheering with the other fans in the room. Sending a wink in her direction y/n spoke in the mic, “You all look so beautiful tonight. Thank you so much for coming out to my final show on my first tour. It’s been so fun meeting and talking to everyone but I’m very happy to be home. With that being said, let make this the best show yet!”

Emily was on cloud nine. She was absolutely beaming with pride and she couldn’t think of any place she’d rather be. When y/n said she’d be serenading her all night, she really hadn’t been kidding. As much as she could without making it too obvious, she practically spent the last two hours gazing lovingly into Emily’s eyes. And Emily felt mighty special. Her favorite voice, just for her.

“DC you’ve been so amazing tonight. I don’t think I’ve felt this happy in a long time. My favorite city, in a room full of my favorite people. It’s so so good to be home.” y/n spoke as the band set up for the last song of the night. “As you all know, we’re on our very last song and as much as I hate to end this night– I’m so excited to sleep in my own bed.”

y/n sat on the stool center stage and shuffled some papers on her music stand with a smile. She looked over to Emily with a mischievous smile that had her heart trying to beat out of her chest.

“This last one is very very special to me. It’s my biggest song and the reason I’m even on this tour. But more importantly, it’s about the most important person in my life. My love, my light, my muse.” y/n spoke eyes trained on Emily the entire time. The room awed and cheered happily at the mention of their favorite artist’s secret girlfriend. “I’m lucky to have her here with me tonight and I know she’s going to hate me for this but I wanna do something a lil different for my last show. Em, will you sing with me?”

Emily’s face was beyond red. She was staring at her girlfriend in shock and awe. Not only had she just told this room of people she was the muse for most of her discography but now she wanted her to get up on the stage to sing with her. She was shaking her head in disbelief and fear before she could even think about it. And she looked at her girlfriend like she’d grown a second head.

This only made y/n smile more, “Please Em. You’re my favorite duet partner and I’ve missed singing with you more than anything.”

Emily was cracking. Between y/n’s words and the adorable pout she was sporting there was only so much more she could take from the woman she loved before giving in.

“Everyone, let’s give her some encouragement. Can we chant ‘Emily!’? y/n asked the audience and like the loyal fans they are, their screams filled the room. And there was really nothing Emily could do at that point. Throwing her hands up in surrender, she walked toward the stage looking extremely nervous as the room cheered.

y/n moved to help Emily up the stairs and onto the stage with a blinding smile. “I can’t believe you just did that.” Emily grumbled softly as she rested her forehead against her girlfriend’s.

“Kinda surprised you came up.” y/n grinned so hard her cheeks hurt.

“Well, you unfortunately know that i will do anything for you baby. and you sure know how to milk it.” Emily replied and smiled as y/n pulled her toward the stool. She sat Emily down and turned toward the crowd.

“Alright everybody, this is the last one. If you know it sing along.” y/n placed the microphone on the mic stand. She could practically feel Emily’s nerves radiating off of her but knew once this moment would live with them for as long as they lived. y/n stood between her legs and placed a kiss on her nose lovingly before cueing the band to start the song. “Just you and me, like at home.” She coaxed before she started singing the opening line of the song.

“Come to me slowly. It's when you talk close enough that I feel it on my skin, breathe it in.”

The room buzzed in anticipation when y/n nudged Emily softly and stroked her cheek in encouragement. Emily was nervous but she truly felt like she could do anything with her girlfriend’s eyes trained on her. “Most of these days I don’t get too intimate. Why would I let you in? But I think again.”

y/n smiled instantly, throwing in some of the background vocals while Emily sang. She started timidly but with the love shining in y/n’s eyes, she grew more confident with the words. Plus the cheers from the audience helped quite a bit. They joined together sweetly, Emily taking the melody and y/n harmonizing with her as they went. “I don’t even try. I don’t have to think. With you, there’s no pretending.”

When they got to the chorus y/n smiled and turned her head to the crowd, “Come on everyone, You know me, you know me. And I just might know you too.”

The smiles on both women’s faces were permanent as y/n pulled Emily up to dance with her across the stage. In a room surrounded by people who loved her girlfriend, she knew without a doubt that none of them could compete with her. They finished the song with the help of the crowd and when the music came to an end, everyone screamed their appreciation. y/n grabbed Emily’s hand and pulled her into center stage with a laugh.

“DC, give it up for the love of my life!” And despite y/n’s hand on the small of her back, Emily timidly tried to hide from the praise. The applause died down a bit and they wished everyone a farewell before heading backstage.

Finally in the quiet of her dressing room, y/n pulled Emily into a bruising kiss. Pulling away was not a priority, but when it became a necessity their foreheads rested together.

“DC give it up for the love of my life?” Emily teased.

“Yeah. That’s you.” y/n shrugged with a smile.

“Mmhmm, is that so?” Emily asked, squeezing her waist.

“It better be so. I’m sure it’s all over the internet by now babe.”

Emily groaned, “Of course it is. You are so lucky I love you.”

y/n shrugged with a smile and reached up to pinch Emily’s cheek, “Oh I know baby, and I wake up every morning so grateful. And lucky me, I get to wake up in your arms for the next three months.”

Emily sighed happily, pulling the singer into a hug. She mentally prayed for the serial killers of the world to chill out for the foreseeable future and kissed y/n’s head. “Welcome home my love.”

y/n

liked by prentissemily, and 9,000 others

dc, i love you. but not as much as i love em.

thank you for an amazing first tour. my heart is so full and i can’t wait for the next one. y/n 2 loading…

ps. whoever took that second picture— i owe you my LIFE

pennythegreat @prentissemily — rue when was this?

prentissemily literally what does this mean?

prentissemily my superstar xx

y/n my muse xx

#emily prentiss x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #emily prentiss #msschemmenti #Spotify

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jewishdragon · 3 days

Text

Ok so now ive watched all the episodes of batman caped crusader

here are my thoughts (HUGE SPOILERS)

YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED

they said evil lesbian rights :D

Harley Quinn is straight up insane just off the bat she's her own unique brand of clown crazy without the even a whiff of the joker and im here for it

Ohmygod two-face's scars are disgusting its actually hard to look at that's a trigger warning yall huge Trypophobia warning (fear/reversion to holes in skin. NO BLOOD THO)

Actually the show is very bloodless but its still VERY violent they somehow managed to include a LOT of brutality without any gore, be aware of this.

The show is mostly about mundane corrupt gotham but also there are real ghosts and vampires giving it a just the right dose of comic book urban fantasy

Speaking of fantasy the racial and queer diversity for what is vaguely the 1950s america is a big fantasy but im also here for it. racism what? homophobia who? (basically there are a lot of POC, men and women, in positions of power and this is never questioned or brought up or pointed out. Also queer people can just go out for dates and engage in PDA without any issues).

batman regularly beats up cops :D

Anyways this show is not mindblowing, it's straightforward (except for the gays). The character designs are top notch, but the storytelling isnt revolutionary. what it IS is decent fresh batman stories. The fantasy 1950s is great because the lack of high tech means the power-levels of the villains and heroes feels very tangible and less unconscionable (sorry superman youre my favorite but its hard to comprehend the scale of destruction and power)

Nothing that is making me sit back and go "wow that was the best thing i experienced in my life" and more "that was really nice, it was exactly what I wanted. classic batman stories set in a fantasy version of a bygone era and new takes on the classic villains that feel well thought out"

#batman #batman caped crusader #batman caped crusader spoilers #batman spoilers #caped crusader spoilers #caped crusader

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moody-alcoholic · 10 hours

Text

These Violent Delights

Chapter 6 - Passion Colors Everything

Summary: Poly 141 x fem!reader, a/b/o alternate universe 12.3k words. Shepherd is here to chew bubblegum and kick ass.... and he’s all out of bubblegum.

CW: MDNI +18 explicit content. a/b/o alternative universe, a/b/o dynamics, typical a/b/o universe tropes (heats, knotting, claiming, nesting), nightmares, angst, mentions of past abuse, nightmare of past abuse (descriptions of physical abuse), angst, sex, oral (F receiving), PiV sex, fingering, slight overstimulation.

AN: I was going to post this tomorrow. I couldn't wait I have no self control.

Previous - masterlist - next AO3

Enjoy <3

It feels like all the air has been sucked out of your lungs. Your ears are ringing, and you're not listening to what John is saying as he talks to Kate. There’s no way you’re going back? No way John would let that happen right? You close your mouth looking around the room, you want to leave, run, get as far away as you can. You can hear Kyle and Johnny talking now and Kate turns around. You use the opportunity to run out of the building.

You don’t know where you’re going, and you don’t care. You want to get away from this place, from whoever wants to take you back to the Professor. Your lungs burn and you find yourself running to the lab. You want to see Dr. Piper, she’ll tell them, she’ll make sure they don’t take you. When you burst through the door panting, everyone looks at you as you rush over to her office. You don’t knock, you throw yourself in. She stands up from her desk, and as soon as you see her you fall to your knees sobbing into your hands.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” she says, coming around and bending down in front of you, trying to pull your hands off of your face. You’re just sobbing, you can’t go back, you can’t. She manages to get you to look at her.

“Breathe, look at me,” she says, her cold hands on your cheeks. You hear commotion in the lab, and it makes you panic. What if he’s here already? Hairs stand up on the back of your neck, and your hand flys up to protect it as you throw yourself in Dr. Piper's arms. You hear John’s voice behind you, Johnny’s too.

“What happened?” Dr. Piper asks as you continue to sob into her chest. She’s trying to project a calming scent over you but it’s not working. You hear John come in, closing the door behind him. You’re trapped, they’re going to take you away. You’re not listening to them. You don’t want to go back, you can’t go back. Dr. Piper pries you off of her chest and gripping your wrists. She’s shaking you to get you to listen.

“Look at me,” she orders, voice harsh. You’ve not heard her use that tone in years. You stop sobbing and look up at her. She lets out a sigh, loosening her grip on your wrists.

“No one is taking you away. No one is going to let you go back to the Professor.” Her eyes are burning into you, all you can do is nod. She looks up at John, you feel him bend down next to you placing his hand on your back. You let your hand fall off the back of your neck. He’s not going to hurt you.

“Why don’t you go take a nap? By the time you wake up it will be dinner time and you’ll feel a lot better.” You don’t know what to do, but you let them help you up to your feet. Dr. Piper's arms leave you as you lean onto John, wiping your eyes. He leads you out of the building as quickly as possible, his arm wrapped around your waist as you’re walking back to the barracks. You can feel people staring, probably the same people from the mess earlier. Let them stare. You won’t be around for much longer anyway.

“I’m sorry,” you say, shivering as the rain hits you.

“About what?” he asks, pulling you closer to him. You’re not sure. You don’t know why you apologized, it just felt like something you needed to do. “You have nothing to be sorry about.” His voice is low, level, and there’s an edge of something to it. He’s tense all of the sudden. You sniffle, dragging your feet as you make it to the barracks. It makes a pit form in your stomach knowing that the Professor knows where you are now and he’s sent someone to get you. You don’t want to go back to him. When you walk through the door the smell of alpha hits you. It’s anger. Simon’s back.

“Is it true? Shepherd is on his way?” Simon snaps as soon as he sees John. His scent is so strong in the air, it makes you dizzy. You can smell his anger, it's scary, thick in the air almost to the point of suffocating you. You stand behind John, gripping his shirt. Alpha anger is a scary thing, and Simon is usually so good at controlling his emotions. You look at him, he’s bigger than Johnny and Kyle, and he might even be bigger than John. You look in his eyes dark and sharp, trained on John as he talks. His body language has changed. You didn’t think he would care if you were here or not. Maybe he would advocate to send you back to the Professor, one less complication out of his life.

“He should be here tomorrow,” John says. He’s calm unlike Simon. You look up at him, tears still running down your face. His eyes meet you for a second before he looks back at John.

“What does he want?” Simon asks.

“The omega,” John says. You swallow hard as Simon’s eyes land on you again, goosebumps run up your neck.

“How did he find out?” He turns to Kate.

“I’m not sure. I saw the order and rushed over here,” she explains.

“There’s plenty of ways he could have found out. We’re not exactly hiding,” John says.

“Maybe we should be,” Simon snaps back. John sighs, turning and pulling you to his side. He walks you past Simon and Kate to the hallway. Johnny and Kyle are standing in the corner of the room. They look at you sympathetically as John walks you down to your room.

“Get some rest. Johnny or Kyle will come and get you for dinner.” You open the door then turn to look up at him. You want to be around him, near him. He makes you feel safe. His thumb comes up to stroke your cheek, you can tell he’s thinking about something.

“You’re a good omega. I’m going to make sure nothing happens, no one is going to take you away.” He bends down kissing the top of your head. You nod at him, smiling. He smiles back then heads back down the hall. You don’t want to sleep, you don’t want to be alone. You go over to your nest, crawling between the pillows and blankets. If you’re going to get any rest, it’s going to be in your nest. You can hear the rain outside, the wind blowing past the building almost like it’s whistling. You can hear low voices in the common room. You trust John, you trust him. You close your eyes and try to let yourself relax as you listen to the rain.

You dream. You don’t want to, you wish you could have a restful nap, but you’re back in the bunker. The door to your room is thrown open. You see the Professor standing there in the doorway. He’s taller than you remember as he steps in. He looks tired, his hair a mess, his white doctor’s coat covered in blood.

“Had to kill another beta because you can’t keep your mouth shut!” he snaps. You flinch, covering your face with your hands. He takes another step towards you. You can smell the blood in the air. It makes you feel sick.

“You are a bad omega, no alpha is ever going to want you!” His voice is low, his anger filling the room. His hand comes down to grip your hair. You yelp in pain as he pulls you up off the floor throwing you on the bed. You bang your head against the wall sobbing silently as your head throbs.

“The next beta I kill will be that stupid doctor you like. She’s been nothing but trouble,” he says walking round the room behind you. You squeeze your eyes closed.

“Dr. Piper,” you whisper. His hands are on you pulling you off the bed. Your body hits the cold floor.

“Got something to say?” he snaps. You shake your head wrapping your arms around your chest, you just want to be left alone. He reaches down gripping your arm pulling it out from under you and stepping on your wrist with his boot.

“No, please!” you beg. You cry as his boot presses down harder.

“You are an omega, you’re nothing!” he shouts down at you.

“I know, I’m sorry!” you sob, hoping he won’t push down the little bit of pressure he would need to snap your wrist. Punishment for disobeying him, being a bad omega.

“Say it!”

“I’m a bad omega, I deserve this,” you cry. You know it’s not enough, it’s never enough. You can see the anger in his eyes, his face contorted into something horrible, gritted teeth, red face.

“One day you’ll learn,” he says, lifting his boot and slamming his heel back down on your wrist. The pain travels all the way up your arm. You cry out but he keeps his boot pressed down. You scream and writhe until eventually he relents. Black spots appear in your vision as he leaves the room hitting the light and leaving you in the dark. The heavy door slams closed. At least you’re alone now.

Your body jolts awake to a knocking at your door. Your eyes snap open as you suck in breaths of air. You’re sweating, your shirt damp. You feel sick, you don’t think you could eat even if you wanted to. Your room is dark, it must be almost time for the mess to close. You turn over in your nest. You just want to be left alone. There’s knocking again.

“Go away,” you call, although it’s quieter than you want. You don’t even know if they heard you, but then the door opens. Light floods into the room and you smell beta in the air.

“I picked up some dinner from the mess, thought you would want to stay here instead of going out.” It’s Kyle. You don’t want to see anyone, you just want to be alone. You want to sleep but you don’t want to dream.

“You need to eat.” He sounds like he’s pleading. You don’t want to see him. You don’t want to see anyone right now.

“Go away,” you say, closing your eyes again before you start crying. You hear Kyle sigh but he leaves, closing the door behind him. It feels like he’s only been gone for a few minutes when there is yet another knock on the door. You open your eyes. They’re sore and dry. You hear your name called as the door opens. This time you turn to look. You see Johnny standing there. He sighs, tipping his head to the side.

“Price won’t be happy if you skip a meal,” he says. You prop yourself up on a pillow.

“I’m not hungry,” you say.

“I know, but we got you extra pudding,” he says smiling. “It’s vanilla.”

You sigh and get up off the floor. Your limbs are stiff and your head is hurting. Johnny waits for you, letting you go first as he follows you down the hall. Kyle is sitting on the sofa watching TV. He smiles at you as you head over to the table. You can’t smell John or Simon, they must be busy trying to figure out a plan. You hope that’s what they’re doing and not trying to figure out a way to hand you back over to the Professor.

You sit down at the table and Johnny brings you a glass of water. You try to listen to what’s playing on the TV but your mind is too preoccupied. You look out the windows and you can see the floodlights lighting up one of the training fields. There are soldiers running up and down the hill. They look tired, stumbling and losing pace. You squint looking at the person standing at the top of the hill with his arms crossed. It’s Simon, you can see the white skull mask he wears as he turns in the light.

“What’s Simon doing?” you ask, turning back to see Johnny heating your food in the microwave.

“You know those recruits from the mess? Well turns out they've been causing a bunch of problems. The base commander was more than happy to let Simon run them around and remind them to be respectful.” That makes you smile as you look down at the table. Johnny brings a plate of food over to you.

“It wasn’t anything exciting today, just some kind of chicken pie.”

You smile at him pulling the pastry top off the chicken and letting the smell fill your nose. It does smell good. You keep flicking your head to look out the window at Simon and the people he has running up and down the hill. It makes you smile. Maybe Simon’s not always the best with his words but actions speak louder than words anyway. You read that in a book once. You let Johnny talk while you eat, better than the silence that’s been hanging over the building since everyone else left.

You eat your food. Kyle joins you at the table and he and Johnny chat. You listen to them and eat until you can’t take it any more, a wave of sadness washes over you and you sulk off to the showers. You take your time, letting the warm water and steam lull you back into a state of relaxation. When you leave the bathroom, John and Simon are still not back. You head into your room. You are tired, and you want to go to sleep. You see the bottle of pills on your bedside table. You don’t care that they’ll make you sick, you just want a good night's sleep. You take two, and by the time you’re changed into your pajamas you feel a heavy weight fall over you. You pick up the book Simon gave you earlier, and getting into bed you flick through it. You read until the words on the page start to melt together and your eyes are drooping closed.

When you wake you feel different. Your body feels heavy, your head pounding. You want to just curl up in your nest and sleep. You look over at it from your bed, and it looks wrong, like there’s something missing. You can hear people talking in the common room. It must be later than normal. You don't have to see Dr. Miller today so you’ve enjoyed the extra rest. You crawl over to your nest, something about it doesn’t feel right. You pull the pillows and blankets out. You rearrange it, but there’s still something wrong. You try again. It feels like an empty nest, it smells like an empty nest.

You need more things, something that smells like your pack. You’re still rearranging when there is a knock at your door. You don’t pay attention to it, your fingers running over the wooly blanket. You ignore your name being called, you have more important things to worry about. You hear the door open and the smell of beta filling the air, but you don't want anyone disturbing you right now or have people in your space. You turn to look at the threat in the doorway. It's Dr. Piper. You grip the blanket waiting for her to talk.

“We’re supposed to be having a chat with Captain Price,” she says. You nod, turning back to the nest. You move the pillows a little more but it still feels wrong. You just can’t quite put your finger on it. You put the blanket down, getting up and walking to the door.

“You’re nesting,” she says as you close your door behind you.

“It doesn't feel right,” you say, looking back towards your room. She looks at you studying your face for a second as you make it to John’s office. You can already smell his alpha through the door. There’s this burning inside of you to be close to him, you rub the back of your neck.

“Preheat. Could be a matter of days now,” she says as a matter of fact and then knocks on the door. That explains it. John calls you in and the moment you see him you blush as your scent cuts through the air. He reacts to it flaring his nostrils, his eyes dilating. You almost want to throw yourself into his arms. Instead you follow Dr. Piper over to the chairs.

“You smell different,” he says, frowning.

“Preheat. It doesn't always happen,” Dr. Piper says.

“What does that mean?” John asks. You don't really listen to the explanation; you know all about it. You’ve only ever had preheat a few times before. It's supposed to be a normal part of the heat cycle but you’ve never really had a normal cycle. Your body will spend the next few days getting ready for your heat. You’ll nest more, eat more and sleep more. You’ll be clingy, wanting to spend more time around an alpha.

“I guess General Shepherd picked the best time to visit,” John sighs. You can hear the sarcasm in his voice. You’re causing a problem.

“Is he really going to take me back to the Professor?” you ask.

“No. Doesn't mean he’s going to make our life easy. According to Kate, he wants a meeting with you, Dr. Montgomery. He would like to see the progress of your cure. He would like to meet you too,” John says, his gaze resting on you. You don't want to meet him, you don't even want to be in the same room as someone who would so willingly hand you off to someone like the Professor.

“I don’t want to meet him,” you say, looking down at the floor.

“We’ll be there, you won’t be alone,” John says. You look up at him. Somehow that makes you feel even more embarrassed, like you're a trophy they’re showing off. You’ve gotten too comfortable with them. At the end of the day you’re just an omega, a thing to be bred. Maybe the general wants you all to himself. The Professor's voice is loud in your head; you’re just an omega, you’re not worth anything other than to be filled with babies one day. You look back up at John, but you can’t tell what he’s thinking.

“Are you sure you still want to go through with this?” she asks. You watch John. It’s his choice, he could say no right now.

“Of course,” he says. You smile.

“Okay, so Dr. Miller has been working on a hormone blocker to help Lieutenant Riley. Just to be on the safe side though, he will be staying away from the building for the duration of the heat. Mostly for your safety,” Dr. Piper explains. Price frowns.

“When the omega is in heat, you will be in rut. It's basically like heat for males. You’ll become super protective of the omega. Anyone who isn't in your pack will be a threat.” You look up at John trying to see his reaction. He just nods.

“How long do heats last?” he asks.

“Usually between 5-7 days. It depends on her stress levels,” she says looking back at you.

“And you’re going to be pretty out of it?” he asks, looking at you.

“Yeah, I don’t know how to explain it. It’s all hazy,” you say, looking at Dr. Piper for support.

“Don’t be too worried. She’s not going to be unconscious or anything, more like extremely relaxed.”

“Yeah and it’s not like I'm new to this.” You smile at him.

“The betas will take it in turns to check on you both. I’ve already spoken to Johnny and Kyle. They’ll be making sure you eat and drink. You will also be out of it, not as much as the omega but things will definitely be foggy, especially when you’re knotted.”

“Knotting, you’ve explained it before,” he says. You’re blushing.

“One of the many wonders of the formula, don’t think about it too much, your body will do what's natural.”

“Okay, what about claiming? Is there anything else I should know?” You smile at him.

“You’ll need to let the betas check the wound, which might be easier said than done depending on how aware you are. Other than that, don’t be worried, there’s no right or wrong way to do it. It’s after the heat when things will really start to feel different,” she explains. He's going to claim you, you’re going to be claimed. Then you truly will be his omega.

“Okay, and it could be any time soon?” he asks. Dr. Piper nods. It’s not really the best timing but you can’t control it.

“I can go through it alone again. I’m used to it,” you offer. Dr. Piper starts to protest but John stops her.

“No, we’ll work it out, don’t worry,” he says, and you nod. “Now we need to focus on this meeting with General Shepherd. He should be here in an hour or so.”

“She can’t go back to the Professor,” Dr. Piper says.

“That’s not going to happen, but he might have other demands. Unfortunately this is very much a gray area. Since you worked so closely with the Professor, I think it would be best if you’re in there from the start,” John says looking at Dr. Piper. She nods.

“It would be nice to have someone who is used to this world on our side,” he says.

“Of course,” she nods. You zone out, letting John and Dr. Piper continue to talk strategies. Before you know it, you’re starving, your stomach rumbling as the cravings come. You want something sweet, french toast or pancakes. You feel like you could eat a million puddings. Dr. Piper can sense your fidgeting, putting her hand on your bouncing leg to stop it. You sigh. You feel like a kid waiting for your parents to stop talking so you can leave and do what you want to do. It feels like they're talking forever before you’re finally allowed to go.

You find Kyle and almost drag him to the mess. When you get in, you see some of the soldiers who were making comments about you. They look embarrassed, quickly looking away when you catch their eyes. You don’t care, you're too hungry.

When you get back to the barracks everyone but Johnny has left. Johnny tells you they’ll be back later, after the meeting with General Shepherd. You know he wants to see you too, but you don’t want to see him. You don’t want to see anyone or leave the building. Johnny puts his arm around you when you sit down on the sofa. You watch the TV leaning against him.

“Don’t worry lass, what’s the worst that could happen?” he says. You let out a sigh. The Professor could come in your sleep and take you back.

“Probably nothing,” you sigh. You don’t want to think about it anymore.

It’s an hour later when Dr. Montgomery is called to a conference room for the meeting. She stands outside the door waiting for John and Simon to show up. The General and Kate are already inside as well as a few other people she doesn’t know. It’s the nerves getting to her. She wasn’t sure what to prepare for the meeting so she just bought everything. She’d read through each piece of paper, each piece of data multiple times before neatly packing it away in the folder she was now clinging onto for dear life. She hears voices round the corner, the smell of alpha in the air. She lets out a sigh of relief as Simon and John step round.

“Ready?” John asks as he reaches the door.

“As I’ll ever be,” she replies. John smiles and Simon walks through. She pulls John to the side before they step into the room.

“She’s never been able to advocate for herself, she’s never had anyone in her corner. I know he’s your boss but she needs us to stick up for her.”

“Don’t worry, she’s not going anywhere,” John says, patting her shoulder, smiling. She doesn’t know if she quite believes him, surely the General can override any order. Maybe he could take her by force. Piper walks into the room. There are more people than she thought here, but still no one she recognizes. Everyone takes seats around the table with a projector at the end. There’s formalities, people being introduced, their significance. Everyone from the base commander to some people the General bought. He starts off with some speech explaining what was going to be happening.

“Professor Hale has caught me up with some of the terminology. I also heard your team has been exposed to the chemical?” General Shepherd asks. John nods.

“And you’re Dr. Montgomery?” he asks, looking at her. She nods.

“Okay I think we should get the elephant out of the room first.” He moves around to the front of the table.

“What made you think blowing up the lab was a good idea?”

“We had intel that they were making and selling chemical weapons, so we decided to act on it,” John says.

“If you had gone up the correct chain of command you would have been told to stay well away from Professor Hale and his little project.”

“Little,” Dr. Piper scoffs, rolling her eyes. The General’s gaze snaps to her but he ignores her comment.

“You shouldn’t have not gotten involved with this, Captain. Now we have one hell of a mess to clean up,” he says. Clicking something on a laptop brings your folder up, the one from the lab. It makes Dr. Piper feel sick. It’s the fake one the Professor would give to people so they wouldn't know what was really going on. Even in your picture you look somewhat normal, flushed cheeks, nice hair. People would even think you were happy. That’s what the Professor wanted people to think.

“The omega initiative; you’re probably aware of the finer details. It is important we continue the core research to finalize the formula, and the only way we can do that is with the help of Professor Hale. Professor Hale is willing to work with us as well as forgive the destruction of his lab—and the significant damage to his mansion—on the condition that we return the omega back to him.”

“You’re out of your mind ,” Dr. Piper laughs.

“Doctor.” It’s John’s voice behind her, his alpha is strong in the air and it makes goosebumps rise on her neck.

“She’s not going anywhere,” John says.

“Captain, we’re lucky this whole project is still confidential and no one outside this room, or the Professor's circle is aware of it. If our enemies were to learn about this we would have a monumental problem.”

“She’s not going anywhere, especially not back to the Professor,” Price says. This time there’s an edge to his voice. The General sighs.

“Look we can do this the easy way or—”

“Sending her back is a death sentence,” John interrupts him.

“We do not have another option. If we want to work with Professor Hale then we need to try and comply with his demands."

“We don’t negotiate with terrorists,” Simon speaks up.

“He is not a terrorist. He works for us,” he says.

“Excuse me!” Dr. Piper snaps. “He works for the government? Since when?”

“It is in the best interests of the nation to allow Professor Hale to continue his research and create a formula for the expressed purpose of improving the capabilities of our armed forces.”

“He gave you the super soldier speech then? That type of formula is years away, tens of years away,” Dr. Piper says, leaning forward in her seat.

“With all due respect Dr. Montgomery, the Professor thinks he will be able to have results before the end of the year.”

“I’m sorry, sir, but are you a scientist? Have you spent the last 20 years of your life working for the Professor? Well I have, and I’m telling you there is no way on earth he can have a working formula before the end of the year,” Dr. Piper says. Her anger is filling the air now. The General just looks at her for a second like he’s thinking about something.

“Regardless of your credentials, the Professor has made us a promise—”

Dr. Piper laughs. “I bet I have a cure before he even has time to start on creating a new formula.”

“It is my understanding that all he needs is the omega,” General Shepherd says. Dr. Piper leans back in her chair. He would need way more than that, his labs are gone. Even if he has a copy of the formula, as well as government funding, why is the omega so important? She’s stopped listening to him as he continues to talk.

“—I think it’s long overdue that we meet this omega,” Shepherd says. Dr. Piper is up from her seat before John needs to ask her. She wants to get out of the room.

“Let's break and meet her back in 10 minutes,” she hears someone say as she leaves the room rubbing the back of her neck. Something feels wrong. You’re more than just a toy for him, there’s something about you that he needs, otherwise he would have just created another omega by now.

You’re sitting at the table with Johnny and Kyle, nervous. You know they can smell it in the air, they’ve been trying to project a calming scent but it’s not really been working. It’s not their fault you’re way too pent up. You’ve felt nothing but the overwhelming urge to vomit for the past few hours. It feels like you’ve been waiting forever when Dr. Piper walks into the building. Kyle and Johnny immediately stand up but you wait until she comes over to the table.

“They want to meet you,” she says. You knew this was coming. You knew this was going to happen. You slowly get up, fear rising inside you. You wish you could run. Johnny and Kyle follow behind you as you all walk in silence into the main building on the base. You’re led to a room where Simon and John are standing outside waiting. They make you feel a little better that they’re both here. You don’t want to do this, it makes you feel like you’re just a thing, a toy to be played with or shown off.

“It won’t take long, we’ll be there the whole time,” John says. You nod at him trying not to panic. He comes to stand next to you placing his hand on your back. You swallow the nerves, digging your nails into your palms. Simon and Dr. Piper walk in first, then you and John. You look around the room.

There are people you don’t recognize and standing at the head of the long table is the person you assume is General Shepherd. He doesn’t look as mean as you thought. He reminds you of the Professor, big and old, only with less hair and no glasses. John is having to practically push you down the room over to him until you’re stood in front of him. You can’t smell anything off him. He’s not been exposed to the chemical and neither have the other people in the room.

“So you must be the omega everyone is talking about.” He smiles, turning to see you. You don’t know what to say. He holds his hand out and you almost flinch. You don’t want to shake his hand, you don’t care if you’re being rude. Goosebumps rise on your neck. You don’t want to be here. After a few seconds he drops his hand.

“So, are you aware that Professor Hale has requested you go back to work with him?” he asks. You nod. Work for him? So that’s how he’s phrasing it.

“And do you want to go back and work for him?” You shake your head. Why would he even ask?

“You are aware that refusing to go back may…complicate things?” He sounds serious. You don’t want to be a bother. You don’t want to be a burden. Maybe you should go back to make life easier for them all, to be a good omega. You nod. He sighs, taking a step back. You want to leave. You can’t help taking a step back, but John’s hand on your back keeps you in place.

“I would like you to think about all the options you have. Professor Hale is willing to offer Dr. Montgomery her job back as well as allow you to keep in contact with your pack,” he explains. You don’t believe it for a second. You don’t say anything, you just stand there in silence. He sighs looking up at John, then nods. You can tell he didn’t get what he wanted. You take a step back, turning to leave.

“Hold on a second,” he says. You stop breathing, freezing in place. “Professor Hale instructed me to check for a mark.”

“She’s not claimed,” Dr. Piper says. A pit forms in your stomach and your hand goes up to the back of your neck. You want to cry, there’s no way you’re letting him get close enough to see that.

“Hale insisted I check it personally.” You look at the end of the room seeing Dr. Piper stood with her arms crossed. You hear him moving closer to you, your hand reaches out to grip John’s shirt. You’re trying not to panic, you’re really trying hard. You can’t even control your scent anymore; you're filling the room with your fear. It causes Simon to move up next to John.

“It will only take a second,” General Shepherd says, and then he’s right behind you. You look down letting out a long breath and move your hand up to the back of your head pulling your hair out the way. He takes another step forward and you close your eyes, gripping John’s shirt harder wishing you were anywhere else but here. You feel panic rising in you, you bite the inside of your cheek. It feels like the seconds are taking hours.

“Okay, you’ve seen it. She’s not claimed.” It’s John’s voice. You open your eyes again, moving your hand and letting your hair fall back down to cover your neck. You look up at Dr. Piper across the room. She looks sad, her eyes not leaving you. You let go of John’s shirt as he moves to the side and you rush over to her. She opens the door for you and you rush out. Your eyes are already welling up with tears as you fall into Johnny’s arms. You’ve never felt so exposed, the fear and adrenaline keeping you going starts to fade and you feel sick. This time you let yourself breathe, letting their scent calm you.

“It’s okay,” Johnny says as he strokes your hair. It’s not okay, nothing about any of this is okay.

“A tracker!? She's not an animal, she's a human being!” you hear Dr. Piper shout. You pull your head out of Johnny’s chest, heading back towards the door.

“It’s just a precaution,” Shepherd replies.

“It's a human rights violation is what it is,” Dr. Piper snaps.

“You’re not putting a tracker in her,” John says.

“Captain, don't make this harder than it needs to be,” Shepherd says.

Kyle comes to stand next to you.

“Let’s head back, we don’t need to be here,” he says. You wipe your eyes. His hand wraps round your waist trying to pull you away. You hear John yelling as Kyle moves you away from the door. A tracker? You really are just livestock.

The rest of the day seems to move in slow motion. Kyle brings you food from the mess again. You’re hungry but you don’t want to eat. You know you have to though. No one has come back from the meeting yet, you’ve been waiting for an update all this time. You’re pushing pasta around your plate hoping that they will be able to come up with a plan that doesn’t involve you being handed over to the Professor. You’ve started to plan what you’re going to do if you’re not given a choice. You’re going to run. Anything is better than being back with the Professor. You put your fork down picking up the pudding cup. Johnny got you extra again, and he smiles at you as you open it, picking up the spoon.

“If you could go anywhere in the world, where would you go?” you ask Johnny. He thinks for a second.

“I’d go home, back to good ol’ Scotland. I have a house in the highlands,” he says. Kyle chuckles coming over to the table.

“You could go literally anywhere and you pick to go home?” he asks.

“Well where would you go?” Johnny asks, crossing his arms.

“Australia, or New Zealand,” Kyle says. You eat your pudding, listening to their conversation. It’s caramel flavored today.

“That’s not that adventurous.”

“You said Scotland,” Kyle protests.

“Okay, okay, where would you go, that isn’t the UK or the commonwealth,” Johnny says, folding his arms and leaning back in the chair.

“I would like to travel around Africa,” Kyle says.

“Africa sounds good. Panama,” Johnny says. Kyle looks at him confused, shaking his head.

“Panama?” Kyle questions. You can’t help but laugh. They both turn to look at you. You cover your mouth with your hand. Shaking your head but you can’t stop laughing, you don’t know why the conversation has tickled you. You keep laughing. If you stop, you think you’ll start crying again. You like seeing them smile, today has been a long day and you could use a little joy. The sound of the front door closing makes you stop. You turn to see John and Simon walking in. You look back at the table spooning more pudding in your mouth.

“Shouldn’t you both be in the gym?” Simon asks. There’s silence but Johnny and Kyle seem to get the hint, getting up and heading to their rooms. John and Simon take their places at the table. You’re holding your breath expecting bad news.

“You’re not going back to the Professor, you’re staying here,” John says. You look between them, licking the rest of the pudding off the spoon.

“What’s going to happen then?” you ask, putting the spoon down.

“Not sure, but for now you don’t need to worry. Let’s just get through your heat, then we’ll go from there.” You smile. It doesn’t feel right but it’s something and you’re not going anywhere.

“You did well today, just get some rest, take it easy. We’ll talk more tomorrow.” You nod. You push the plate away looking between them both.

“You didn’t have to stick up for me today. I know it would be easier to give me back to the Professor. Thank you.”

“Who said it was easier to give you back to the Professor?” John asks. You look down at the table.

“We’re a pack right?” Simon says. It surprises you and you look up at him. You nod.

“Then we take care of the pack.” He looks over at John. You smile at Simon, he does think of you as part of the pack.

“We take care of the pack,” John says back to him. Simon looks at you and you keep smiling, nodding at him.

Simon walks into the lab. It’s dark but he can see the light from around the wall. He steps in, he can hear Dr. Montgomery mumbling. He peeks in her office. It’s empty, just lit up by a computer monitor.

“Christ,” she says. It sounds like a fist slamming the desk. Simon walks round the corner seeing her looking through a microscope.

“Everything alright?” he says trying not to spook her but she jumps anyway looking up from the microscope.

“I can’t do this!” she snaps, throwing the glass of whatever she was looking at at the wall. Simon almost jumps looking behind him at the broken glass. She runs her hand through her hair.

“Okay, calm down,” he says. She looks at him, rubbing her forehead. He’s never seen her this worked up before. She usually has such a calmness about her, level headed and in control. Right now she looks like she’s about to burst into tears.

“Sorry,” she says waving him away as she sits back down at the table looking at the computer monitor. He waits, watching her click through something before he walks round the table to join her. He doesn’t understand what she’s looking at but she’s muttering under her breath as she scans the images.

“Is there anything we can do to help?” he says. She takes her glasses off, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“He needs her, he needs the omega. I’ve never thought about it before but she’s special. He could have created another omega and continued his research without agreeing to work with the government.” She turns to look at him, but he doesn’t know what to say.

“There’s something about her, he needs her.”

“Maybe it’s just because he’s her father?” He suggests.

“He never loved her. He spent all those years torturing her. You know that.” She turns to look at him. He knows it’s a dig at him. She’s frustrated, and she’s taking it out on him. That’s okay, he's used to it. She sighs looking back over to the computer.

“If we can figure out why she’s important we can use it against him. She might even be the solution for all this, for the cure, for perfecting the formula…” She trails off clicking back through on the computer.

“You did a good job defending her today,” he says. She sighs, shaking her head.

“He knows where she is, it’s only a matter of time before he tries something,” she says.

“She’s safe here,” Simon says.

“She’s not safe anywhere. She never will be until the Professor is dead.” She says looking back in the microscope.

“Thought you were a pacifist,” he says. She looks over at him quickly before going back to the microscope.

“You and John saved her today, not me,” she sighs. “I could have never spoken to General Shepherd the way John did.”

“You did good, just take the compliment,” he sighs.

“I don’t need to be complimented Simon,” she says. He smiles.

“You’re a good person,” he says. She looks over at him.

“When you start believing that about yourself I’ll listen,” she says. A smile tugs on her lips. Simon scoffs—stubborn women.

“Want to go through this data with me?” she asks after a few seconds. Simon nods, sitting on a stool scooting over to her. She passes him some papers. He picks them up looking at them.

“More chromosomes?”

“It’s the formula, circle anything over 2. Turns out reverse engineering is going to be harder than we think,” she sighs.

“It’s never easy,” he says picking up a pen.

“No such thing as easy,” she replies.

You wake and you’re starving. You pull yourself out of bed, changing and rushing out of your room. You almost bump into Johnny as you’re still pulling your shoes on.

“Easy lass, where you going in such a hurry?” He smiles.

“Hungry, “ is all you say as you continue to the front door. You want to get to the mess, fill your plate with stacks of eggs and bacon and as many puddings as you can eat. You see John sitting at the table with a mug in one hand and a tablet in the other.

“Morning,” he says as you pass him.

“Morning,” you reply, rushing out the building. It feels like you can smell the food coming from the mess and it makes your mouth water. Johnny comes out behind you throwing his arm around your shoulder. He slows you down but as soon as you get into the mess your stomach is rumbling. It feels like you haven’t eaten in days. Everything smells and looks amazing, even things you haven’t tried yet. You get two plates filling them both up with a little bit of everything. Mostly eggs and thick slices of toast and butter. Johnny looks on in awe as you demolish both the plates then go back for more. The pudding is strawberry today and you manage to eat 3 before you finally feel satisfied.

“Is this because of your heat?” Johnny asks as you finish licking the pudding off the spoon. You nod.

“Is it going to be like this for every meal?” You shake your head, maybe you went a bit overboard. You'll have to sit here for a few minutes to let your stomach settle.

“Dr. Montgomery talked to us about your heat. Gave us a list of jobs we have to do for you and Price.”

“Like what?” you ask slowly sipping on your water.

“Making sure you eat and drink. Keeping John up to date with what's going on.”

“What is going on?” you ask.

“Well, we’re kind of just waiting to see what Shepherd says,” he says. You nod. So he’s still here, and who knows when he’ll leave. Suddenly you want to get back to the barracks. You get up throwing your tray in the pile as you both walk back. When you get in you can hear commotion in the hallway.

“How did they get the first bed in here?” Kyle asks, you and Johnny stick your heads round the corner seeing a bed frame sticking out of John’s room awkwardly.

“Christ, you need to turn it,” Johnny says, going to help them.

“We’ve tried that already.” Simon’s voice comes out of John’s room.

“Well clearly you’ve not done it the right way,” Johnny says, trying to pull the frame back.

“Watch it Soap!” Kyle shouts as the bed moves off the wall, almost hitting him in the head. You chuckle backing out the way.

“Teamwork!” John shouts from his office. You turn to look in the office, his door half open. He sees you looking and smiles. You take it as permission to walk in. He puts down whatever he's working on.

“You okay?” he asks. You nod remembering how quickly you left the building this morning.

“Sorry I rushed out this morning. I was hungry.” He smiles.

“It’s okay, if there is anything you need just let us know,” he says, you nod, hearing a bang coming from the room next door.

“New bed?” you ask him.

“Something like that,” he chuckles. “I was wondering if you would want to spend the evening together tonight? I can get the boys out and we could just relax, see where the night goes?” You blush, you’re pretty sure he’s trying to ask you for sex. You smile nodding at him.

“Great, it's a date.” He smiles leaning back in his chair. You can smell his alpha in the air. There’s a loud crash and some cursing. You watch John roll his eyes as he gets up out of his chair.You chuckle as he walks past you, and you follow him. You get distracted though seeing a hat hanging on a hook next to his jacket. You run your fingers over it. this would be perfect for your nest. You take it off the hook, it smells like John, it’s a wool beanie, soft as you bring it up to your nose. John walks back to his office making you jump.

“Can I keep this?” you ask, showing it to him.

“Sure,” he says, sounding a little confused. You hum, going past him. You need to put it in your nest, then maybe it will feel right. You make it into your room kneeling down next to your nest. You take your time trying to make it perfect. You don’t know how long you’re doing it for before you get up heading into Dr. Pipers room. You breathe in her scent. You don’t know what you want until you’re drawn to a scarf laid on the end of the bed. It’s silk. You run it through your fingers. You had no idea she had something like this. You take it out back to your nest ignoring Johnny as he calls you from the common room. It’s getting there. You smile pulling the pillows off of your bed to add to the pile. You follow your nose walking down the hallway. Johnny's room door is open, and you stand in the doorway for a few seconds. His room smells stronger than Dr. Pipers.

“Need something lass?” Johnny asks, coming up beside you. You walk into his room flaring your nostrils. You’re drawn to a shirt hanging over the back of his desk chair. You pick it up and bring it to your nose.

“Can I have this?” you ask turning to go back to your nest before you even hear him give an answer. He follows you watching as you rearrange your nest for what feels like the hundredth time today. It’s getting there. You stand back up turning to see Johnny in the doorway.

“Do you think Kyle will let me in his room?” Again your body moves before he’s had a chance to reply. You open his door standing in the doorway. Kyle sticks his head round the corner.

“What’s up?” he asks as you walk into his room.

“She’s collecting things. Putting them in her nest,” Johnny explains. They both wait in the doorway watching you looking round Kyle’s room. His is more organized than Johnny's. Your hands land on another scarf, this one is made of a rougher fabric though. You bring it up to your nose and smile. You leave the room without asking. You just want to get this perfect. You’re getting frustrated, it’s still not right. You stand up, you need something from Simon.

You look back at Johnny and now Kyle watching you, you walk past them over to Simon’s room. You can’t go in there, not without his permission. It’s an alpha’s domain. If you go in without him knowing and get your scent everywhere, he could get angry. You just stand there deciding on what to do. Johnny and Kyle stand next to you waiting. You should knock and ask him.

No, he doesn’t like you, he could say no. You want your nest to be finished but you don’t want to annoy Simon. You step back from his door heading back to your room closing the door behind you, and you crawl into your nest. It will have to do for now.

By the time the evening comes around, you’re strangely nervous. Everyone had left the building just as the sun was going down. It felt weird being alone. Simon left first, he didn’t say anything. Then Johnny and Kyle left an hour later joking about their temporary displacement and how long they can realistically stretch out a gym session. You felt embarrassed knowing you–or more John–was kicking them out so you could have sex. Although maybe it was for the best. When you’re in heat, they’re going to be around, helping even. This is different and that’s okay, that's the point.

“You ready?” John asks coming into the common room. You didn’t even hear him come out of his room. You nod getting up off the sofa, it feels so formal, you walk over to him, his hands wrap around your waist.

“Are you sure you still want to do this?” he asks. You nod looking up at him, in his deep blue eyes which look darker in the dim lighting. He looks tired as his hand comes up to your face, his thumb stroking your cheek. He leans down, planting his lips on yours. You relax into his kiss letting his hand run back down to your waist. His touch is nice, his hands warm as they map out your curves. You press up against him playing with his tongue as you make your way to his room. You’ve never been in his room before. You break from the kiss to look around. The double bed barely fits with the desk and built-in wardrobe taking up most of the space. Other than the smaller window the layout is almost identical to your room.

“They let you have a double bed.” You smile. “It’s just two single beds pressed together,” he shrugs, but you don’t care. You turn back to look at him, and there’s a glint in his eyes. You kiss him. He presses his tongue back into your mouth, you let it drag across yours. The smell of vanilla fills the room, and the musky scent of his arousal makes shivers run down your spine. His hands grip your waist, his thumbs dipping under your waistband.

“You are beautiful,” he says, breaking away from the kiss, his eyes soaking you in.

“Such a good omega,” he breathes, and you blush at the praise, which makes that warm knot come back in your stomach. You smile letting your scent fill the room. You want to let him know you’re ready, ready for him. He guides you over to the bed gently pressing you to sit down, he breaks away from the kiss.

“John, be gentle.”

“Of course,” his voice is low, humming in your ears. It sends vibrations down your spine. He sits on the bed next to you, his hands traveling up your thighs. You’re not really sure what you’re supposed to do—be a good omega just lie there. And keep calm. If he senses you’re worried or nervous he might stop, and you don’t want that. His hand squeezes your thigh, his other hand resting on the top of your back.

“Relax,” he says, and you drop your shoulders and let out a breath. “We can stop any time you want, you just have to say okay?” You nod, and he smiles, kissing you on the forehead before maneuvering your body so you’re both laid on the bed. His hand rests on your stomach as you lean in to kiss him again. This time you really do relax, letting the smell of vanilla fill your head to the point of making you dizzy. His hand slips under your shirt, it's warm and firm against your skin as he moves up to your breasts. His thumb brushes over your nipple causing you to moan into the kiss. He breaks away smiling.

“When was the last time you had someone just take care of you?” You frown at the question, your brain trying to think as he continues to rub circles with his thumb.

“Never,” you say. You don’t know why you feel embarrassed about that. He hums.

“That’s going to change, from now on it’s all about what you want. Because that’s what my omega deserves, to be taken care of.” You nod at his words, not quite knowing what to say. There's a tingle running through your body now, something you haven’t felt in years, you want to chase it. You go to kiss him again but instead he moves, his hands gripping the bottom of your shirt. You raise your arms letting him take it off over your head. The cool air hits your bare chest making goosebumps form.

You watch as John sits up pulling his own shirt over his head. He’s well built, of course he is, he’s a soldier. He’s got a nice stock of body hair too. That you expected. You wait till he’s done, soaking him in as he throws his shirt over the end of the bed. You smile as his eyes look over you, his hand coming down to your chest as he runs it over your body. You’re glad you decided to wear something comfy and forgo the bra, it makes it easier for John as his hand travels down to your abdomen. There's an ache throbbing between your legs as he holds his hand firm, looking at you. You smile at him and he leans down to kiss you.

The kiss is distracting, his hot tongue playing with yours as he slips his hand in your underwear. You spread your legs for him without even thinking. He goes slow, though, almost like he’s testing the waters. His fingers are warm as he pushes one between your folds. The brief contact with your clit makes you gasp pulling away from his mouth.

“So sensitive,” he says, his fingers pressing against your entrance. You nod blindly as he gathers some of your slick on his fingers then drags them back up, pressing them onto your clit. You moan as his fingers rub little circles. It feels like it’s the most contact you’ve had in years. Your head tips back as the scent of his arousal fills the room again. Of course you’re sensitive, you're in preheat, it’s not going to take you long to come especially like this, his rough fingers making steady movements, slowly building up speed. He knows what he’s doing, that's for sure. Your back arches as you chase the peak, closing your eyes and gripping the bedding as the orgasm washes over you.

It comes in waves, pulsating all through your body. It’s completely different to the ones you’ve had during your heat. It feels almost fulfilling, rushing through your body making your clit throb as John works you through it, slowing his movements until you relax back down on the bed. You open your eyes looking over at him as your hazy brain catches up with you. Your scent is thick in the air, you see his pupils dilate as he removes his hand leaning down to kiss you.

“That was amazing,” you breathe as he pulls away. He smiles, you can’t help your eyes traveling down to his crotch. There’s a prominent bulge there now, it must be uncomfortable.

“Not yet,” he says, pulling your chin back up so you meet his eyeline. “I want to make you cum at least one more time before that.” Holy shit. You nod blindly as he moves off the end of the bed. He stands up undoing his belt, you prop yourself up so you can get a better look. The only light in the room is coming from the bedside table light next to you. The shadows make his muscles look more defined, as he drops his pants. He stands there naked at the end of the bed. He’s big, or maybe it’s just the shadows. You’re trying not to gawk at him as he runs his hand down the shaft pulling back his foreskin to reveal the red hot tip.

Your mouth goes dry. He leans over you, grabbing the waistband of your sweat pants. You shuffle and bring your legs together so he can pull both your underwear and pants off in one go. He’s definitely done that before. You lay back down feeling slightly embarrassed, what if he doesn’t like what he sees? There seems to be no complaints as his hands grip your waist pulling you down the bed slightly. You see him bend down at the end of the bed, and he takes your legs putting them over his shoulders. You can feel his hot breath on your soaked cunt.

“You know what to do if you want me to stop,” he says. Even the feel of his breath is enough to have shivers running through you.

“I know,” you say, swallowing any nerves you had away. He hums, shifting his body one last time before his tongue slips through your folds. It’s like instant fireworks running through your body, you’re almost shaking, your legs squeezing his head. He chuckles which doesn’t make things easier, vibrations now running through to your core. You relax your legs arching your back instead, one of his hands comes to your waist while you feel the other slip between your legs. His mouth leaves your clit and you whine from the loss of contact.

“Being needy now, hm?” he asks. You can hear the grin on his face as your brain tries to comprehend the words.

“Yes,” is all you manage, you hear him chuckle again as his fingers brush your entrance. You moan from the contact as he inserts two fingers into you. You didn't even think about how thick they were until now that they’re inside you and you're clenching around them.

“Relax,” he breathes. You barely have time to react before his mouth is back on your clit. It’s a whole new sensation now, his fingers thrusting inside you in time with the strokes of his tongue. You’re trying to keep still for him, your hands gripping the bedding as he slowly builds up speed. Even now he’s so gentle, using just the right amount of pressure to build you up to the peak slowly. You’ve never felt like this before. You’ve never had sex like this before. Maybe Dr. Piper was right and there is some romance involved.

Suddenly he changes his pace, his fingers curling up and hitting that oh-so-sweet spot inside you as his tongue presses down on you harder. Your hand flys down to his head, your fingers lacing through his hair.

“John—” You breathe, trying not to clench your legs around his head again. He doesn't stop, and you clench round his fingers as the second orgasm hits you. You let go of his hair so you don’t pull it, panting as he keeps going until your legs start twitching. You feel almost empty as his mouth and fingers leave you. You prop yourself up so you can see him. You can see his fingers glistening in light covered in your slick. You smile at him as his eyes meet yours. He brings the fingers to his mouth sucking them clean. Why is that the hottest thing he’s done tonight?

“You okay?” he asks. Your brain is fuzzy, overwhelmed with the scents and the multiple orgasms. You nod, and he smiles. He climbs back into the bed, his body over yours. He leans down to kiss you, and you can taste yourself on him, his lips puffy as he gently presses his tongue into your mouth. You moan as the leathery smell of his arousal hits your nose. He breaks away, you see his eyes glossed over. You wrap your arms around his neck pushing your fingers through the hair at the base of his skull.

You press your thumbs gently on his scent gland, and he almost purrs as you do it, moving his body to a more comfortable position. He moves one of his hands down pressing his fingers on your clit then down to your entrance. For once you’re lucky you’re in preheat. There’s plenty of slick for him to work with. He gathers some on his fingers before moving and lining himself up with your entrance. You’re suddenly nervous, he looks big. He’s an alpha, they're always big, at least that’s what you’ve been told.

“I’ll be gentle,” he says, still nudging your entrance. You nod, you trust him. “Just relax.” You’re trying, it’s easier said than done. You smile at him as he pushes inside you. It takes your breath away, you feel like your lungs have just been emptied. He is big, bigger than anyone you’ve been with before. He rests there for a second moving his hand away and sucking in breath of air. You clench around him which makes him moan, a deep moan from the back of his throat that has goosebumps rising on the back of your neck. You relax for him, letting him get used to your body.

“Okay?” he asks, looking at you. You smile and nod. He reaches down to kiss you as his hips start thrusting. It takes a few seconds for you to get used to it but before you know it you’re panting into his ear. There is nothing going on in your brain now, your body moves with him as he whispers in your ear, his voice low, vibrating as he tells you how much of a good omega you are for him. With each thrust it feels like he’s going quicker, hitting you deeper. It burns but in a good way as he’s stretching you out, hitting a deep spot inside you that has you moaning into his neck.

You don’t know how long you’re going to last. You clench around him in an attempt to slow your drive to the edge down. It feels too good and you don’t want it to stop. He moans and pants in your ear which make the hairs stand up on the back of your neck. You wish he could claim you now, then you would be his, all his. The thought makes you shiver, tightening around him as your hands grip his hair.

“I know, I know you’re close,” he says between breaths. “Just cum for me, it’s okay.”

It’s like music to your ears. Your brain doesn’t comprehend it but your body does, moaning out his name as you come, clenching around him. His thrusts slow as the smell of his alpha fills your nose. It makes you dizzy, all you can focus on is his throbbing cock inside you. Maybe he’ll knot you, maybe he won’t be able to help it. He doesn’t though after a few seconds of panting his breathing goes back to normal and you feel him pull out of you. You feel empty all of a sudden, he lays down on the bed next to you turning and propping himself up on his elbow so he can look at you.

There’s a chill in the air now as you come down from the high. You look at him and he smiles. You wonder what it’s going to be like when you’re in heat. Will he be as gentle? Probably not. You smile back at him as his thumb comes up to stroke your cheek.

“Was it good?” you ask, feeling self conscious all of a sudden.

“Amazing,” he chuckles, and it makes you blush. He wraps his arms around you pulling you up against his chest. You can hear his heartbeat as you yawn. Your body feels heavy, eyes tired. You let out a long breath, the smell of leather and wood is heavy in the air. The smell of a satisfied alpha. You did that, you satisfied your alpha. You close your eyes, relaxing up against him. You don’t know how long it’s been but you feel like you’re just about to fall asleep when he moves. You open your eyes watching as he goes into his wardrobe.

“Have you ever had a girlfriend?” you ask, sleepy.

“A few. It’s hard to keep steady relationships when you travel so much,” he says. You watch as he pulls on boxers and a shirt. He comes over with a towel in his hands, you’re not sure what he wants but then you feel the slick between your legs, taking the towel from him.

“Want me to get you some clean clothes?” You sit up looking round the room. You shake your head, you put fresh clothes on a few hours ago after you spend 40 minutes scrubbing your body within an inch of its life in the shower. He walks round the room and collects your clothes as you swing your legs out the bed, throwing the towel in what you hope is a pile of dirties.

“You can stay if you want?” he says. You look up at him smiling.

“Yeah, that would be nice,” you say. He holds his hand out, and you take it, getting dressed. You skip the sweatpants, you’ll be too hot, especially with another person in the bed. He stands aside waiting for you to get into the side of the bed pressed up against the wall. You climb in, pulling the duvet over you.

He gets in and before you have a chance to lay down properly his arms are already around you pulling your back up against his chest. He’s warm as he nuzzles his face in your neck squeezing you in his arms like he’s worried you’ll disappear. You close your eyes again, relaxing into him. Your ears prick up when you hear the door to the building open. They must be back from killing time wherever they are.

“John, promise me you won’t let anything bad happen,” you sigh, your eyes heavy again.

“I promise,” he replies, kissing your neck. You let yourself believe him. At least you’re not going back to the Professor, and that’s all that matters. John will keep you safe, you know he will.

——————————

John can’t sleep. It didn’t take long for you to pass out in his arms. His head is too distracted though, too much going on too much to think about. Maybe he needs a break, maybe this heat is a good thing. He’ll get to spend a week away from the responsibilities. He should get up, stretch his legs, see if there’s any news from Shepherd. He waits, watching you for at least a few more minutes. Dr. Montgomery told him you needed to keep a low stress level to be able to have a smooth heat.

Now you’re in preheat, it’s even more important you keep you calm. It’s easier said than done, especially with Shepherd still being on the base. John takes his time, slowly slipping out the bed. At one point you murmur reaching out for him. He guides your hand to a pillow as he shuffles out of the bed. His eyes hardly leave you as he moves out the room as quietly as he can.

He leaves the door open slightly going into his office. He walks over to his desk, turning the light on and sitting down. When the PC screen comes on he sees the time, just after midnight. It’s a new day, another long day. He opens the drawer in his desk looking at the stack of paperwork he hasn’t had time or energy to go through. There’s a knock at the door, he doesn’t have time to answer before the door is opened.

“Got a minute?” Kyle says as he walks through the door. John smiles nodding at him. He leans back in his chair as Kyle walks round the desk behind him. His hands rest on his shoulders, pushing his thumbs into John’s shoulder blades.

“How’s things?” Kyle asks. John sighs, relaxing into the familiar feeling of his sergeant's hands on him. He knows Johnny has been taking care of Simon, but he hasn’t been able to find time for Kyle since they moved to Washington and now with the heat coming up, he’s not going to have time for much else.

“I cannot wait for Shepherd to be gone,” John sighs. Kyle hums in agreement.

“How is she?” Kyle asks after a few seconds.

“She’s fine.”

“You’re tense,” Kyle says. “You need to take time for yourself.”

“I will.”

“Yeah? When we’re on a plane back to the UK?” Kyle tuts.

“I’ll find time,” he sighs. He knows it’s a lie but he doesn’t need Kyle worrying. His hands move down to his arms, squeezing his biceps.

“Are you ready for her heat?” Kyle asks.

“As much as I can be. Dr. Montgomery keeps saying my body will know what to do,” he sighs. He trusts her, he just wishes she could give him more information. He knows he has to have a chat with Simon at some point. He needs to keep him busy, that's what Dr. Montgomery said, keep him busy, keep him distracted. Seems like the heat might be the hardest for Simon, never mind Johnny and Kyle who have to take up the role of caretakers.

“Did you pick up the food from the kitchen?” John asks.

“We’re going to get it tomorrow,” Kyle says, his hands moving back to his shoulders. He rolls his thumbs over his shoulder blades.

“Think Shepherd’s going to try anything?” Kyle asks.

“I don’t know. I hope not, the last thing we need is to be shipped off anywhere right now,” John sighs.

“What about Professor Hale?”

“I don’t know. Now that he’s working for the government, that complicates things. Unless we’re all looking to get court-martialed, we might just have to play along with his little games.”

“Do we know where he is?”

“No, they’re keeping that pretty confidential.”

“Think Laswell can find him?” Kyle asks.

“No idea. It’s not easy for her to do anything right now with Shepherd breathing down her neck.” John sighs, he’s tired. He wants to get back into bed with you.

“Go get some sleep Garrick, it’s going to be a long week,“ John says, Kyle’s hands leave his shoulders and he walks back round the desk.

“You too Cap, no use to anyone if you’re exhausted,” Kyle says as he leaves. John smiles. He waits until he hears Kyle’s door close before turning the monitor off and leaving the office. When he walks back into his room, you’re still sleeping cuddling up against the pillow he left you with.

Your scent is strong in the air, a mix of strawberries and vanilla. You look so peaceful, he almost doesn’t want to get back into bed and disturb you. His phone buzzes in his pocket, he takes it out seeing Kate’s name flash. He leaves the room heading back into his office and closing the door before picking up the phone.

“I found him, John,” she says. He lets himself smile for a second,

“The Professor?” he confirms.

“Yes, but you’re not going to like it,” she sighs.

“Where?”

“Seattle.”

Next Dividers by Plum98 & gild-ui rememberwren who proof read and eddited the longest chapter I have ever written. <3

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wheneverfeasible · 3 days

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Historical omegaverse au idea(s) I may never write but by the gods do I want to

I’m gonna be honest. I’ve been reading a couple historical omegaverse fics (specifically here and here) and I also watched The Nun II recently and idk. Ignoring the demon/horror aspect, I just kind of got caught with the idea of rural boarding school teacher and the lowly grounds worker there. With o!Steve as the teacher and a!Eddie as the groundskeeper of course.

Picture it. Steve has “adopted” Max (I know, I know, it’s usually Dustin, but since Claudia isn’t going to be in the final season, I just can’t stand to get rid of her and Max makes the most sense for needing a new guardian) but according to paperwork to keep Max safe, they have lied and said that Max is biologically his. Perhaps him taking her in was one of the reasons why his high society family has disowned him and now he’s a vaguely destitute teacher that he only got the job of because his friend Robin (who teaches foreign language obvi) vouched for him. His being a teacher there allows Max to attend classes, though some of the snootier kids are assholes about it.

Anyways, Eddie works the grounds with his uncle, both also quite destitute but they have a good thing going there, though they are always treated poorly by the rich children there. The exceptions are of course the Wheeler child, the Sinclair children, and the Henderson child, as well as their friends the Hopper-Byers children who are there on scholarship. This is the group that welcomes Max into their fold eventually too.

Eddie of course thinks Steve is a bit too snooty when he first lays eyes on him, but then quickly realizes Steve isn’t like that at all. (Steve meanwhile thinks Eddie is uncouth until realizing he’s actually quite gentle and sensitive.) As well, if he has a child at such a young age, Eddie realizes that Steve must have had her probably around his first heat right after presenting. This is a belief everyone holds, and one Steve and Max actively encourages to prevent them taking Max away from him, but it does lead to them both being look down upon frequently and has ruined all prospects for Steve.

There’s obviously lots of pining, plenty of misunderstandings, and lots of Robin and Wayne and Max watching these two idiots dance around each other and face palming. Robin is of course the only one who knows the truth about Max because Robin knew Steve before he was disowned, and knew about Max’s past too. Maybe, just maybe, Steve rescued her from an abusive household. A violent stepfather, an abusive stepbrother, an alcoholic mother…maybe Steve helps her escape and leaves his past life behind.

MAYBE the reason Steve and Max crossed paths was because the Hargroves and the Harringtons were in talks of an arranged match between a!Billy and Steve. Steve didn’t want it, saw how miserable Max was, and basically kidnapped Max (with her consent) and ran away with her to give them both a chance at a better life.

Which is why, after Eddie and Steve finally start to make their moves, the climax of the story angst begins where Billy has found them (maybe Neil is dead idk and Billy took over managing the family), claiming Steve belongs to him and offering to drop all kidnapping charges if he returns quietly with Max. Eddie learns the truth about Max’s parentage then, and Steve’s past, and the whole lot of them come up with a solution that I don’t know what it is yet.

Maybe Steve sacrifices himself and agrees to return and mate with Billy only if Max can stay with her new friends and Robin and for the Hargroves forget about her existence. Billy would eventually accept this. Maybe while Steve and Billy are set to return home, Eddie rushes to prevent their departure and challenges Billy to a duel or something.

Blah blah blah Eddie wins of course and Steve and Max get to stay and Steve officially adopts her, and he and Eddie finally get together and knock boots. And Steve and Eddie love Max as their own and eventually give her a younger sibling which she then fears they’ll love more than her and worries Steve will regret adopting her but obviously that’s not true and Steve and Eddie make sure she knows that she is theirs in all ways. Their first child, no matter what.

Anyways yeah. Maybe one day I’ll do the research necessary for this. Also when I have time to devote myself to this story in its whole. Definitely deserves at least 50k I feel. And I sadly just don’t have time for that right now.

THAT BEING SAID.

I also really adore the idea of teacher Eddie and groundskeeper Steve, because I love reversing tropes and I love making Steve work with his hands in a lowly position, especially if he used to be from a “proper” family, but then the plot would definitely change some. Steve could honestly remain as the omega in this situation too, or switch it up and make him the alpha. Probably get rid of the parent aspect, unless perhaps it’s post-divorce Susan who has become an alcoholic and Eddie did actually officially adopt her because they had been neighbors or something before he moved for a better life.

OR Steve is the teacher but the above about Max and Eddie is still true and she can only attend the school because he’s the groundskeeper which still causes issues with the popular rich kids. And Steve is the teacher who takes a shining to her. Not sure what the main drama aspect would be then. Maybe Eddie is framed for something and is being sent away from the school or arrested or something, and Steve & Co. prove his innocence.

Idk. So many options. My issue with aus is that I also come up with aus of aus because I can’t decide how most I would love things to go which then makes it difficult to actually write anything 😂

If anyone else wants to use any of these ideas in the meantime, feel free! Just tag credit and link the fic so I can read it!

Hostage tags: @derythcorvinus @katyawriteswhump

#historical omegaverse au #steddie au #omega steve harrington #alpha eddie munson #steve harrington #eddie munson #max mayfield #robin buckley #stranger things #steddie #pre steddie #platonic stobin #plot thots

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itendtothinkalot · 3 days

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confession 3.0

Summary: reader has suppressed her feelings for huening for so long, believing that she could manage without confessing. sooo how will she react when she discovers that kai had gone on a blind date.......

Genre: fluffy

Characters: huening kaix f!reader

Words: 6202

a/n: suUuUuper busy at work rn but i managed to write something rly quick today! i didnt rly proofread or edit this so i'm sorry if thrs errors! also stream #ggum!!!

Completed (oneshot)

Kai, It’s hard to find the right words when I’m about to say something that could change everything between us. But here I am, thinking maybe, just MAYBE, you would feel the same way. (Though, I’m on my period, so maybe I��m reading too much into it.) We’ve been best friends for as long as I can remember. You’ve always been my rock, through every high and low. Maybe that’s why it’s taken me so long to see you as more than a friend. But now, I think I’m ready to face the truth. I like you—probably more than a friend should.

It’s been two years since you wrote that letter. You and Kai had just graduated. Maybe it was the adrenaline from graduation, but you wrote it the night he kissed your cheek after you were named valedictorian.

“THAT’S MY BEST FRIEND!” you heard him yell from the seats. You rolled your eyes as you walked up to get your diploma, but you couldn’t ignore the look in his eyes as he mouthed the words, “I’m so proud of you.”

“The letter’s collecting dust,” Beomgyu teased, lying on your bed, reading the letter you wrote for Kai all those years ago.

“You come to my house, rummage through my memory box, and take out this hellish letter?” You glared at Beomgyu, who knew you were getting irritated. “What are you trying to achieve? If you want me to cry, just call me dumb. I’m on my period anyway.”

“TMI, but I’ll let it slide since I am a huge female supporter.” He chuckled, “But here’s a thought! Give him the letter.”

You snatched the letter from him. “And why would I do that?"

"Why not? It's cute!"

"Cute?"

"Yeah!"

"In what way?" You asked.

"It has like words. And stuff." Beomgyu paused. “Besides, you two belong together! Plus, I need some drama in my life. Ever since Soobin and Yeonjun went to study overseas, things have been so boring.”

"Are you insinuating that Kai, Taehyun, and I are boring?" you asked, deadpan.

"I'm not insinuating. I'm literally telling you that," Beomgyu chuckled, draping his arms over your shoulders like he hadn’t just insulted you.

"You’re an idiot," you scoffed, shaking your head. "Besides, I’m perfectly fine with how things are."

"Oh, you mean staring at him lovingly while he’s eating?" Beomgyu teased, widening his eyes and pouting dramatically, doing his best imitation of you watching Kai.

“I could kill you.”

“But you won’t.”

You stuck your tongue out at him, knowing he was right. It was cruel—the way you felt about Kai. Almost comically so. Falling in love with your best friend felt like a cosmic joke.

“Do you think he likes me back?” You sighed.

“How would I know?” Beomgyu rolled his eyes.

“Well, for starters, you three have guy’s nights.”

“We talk about games. Football. You know, guy stuff. Do we look like the kind of people who talk about feelings?”

“Kinda. Yeah.”

—

The living room was filled with high pitched screaming (mostly from Beomgyu) as the four of you—Beomgyu, Taehyun, Kai, and you—were completely absorbed in a random game Kai had discovered in a video he had seen somewhere.

Taehyun, with a mischievous grin, leaned back on the couch. “Hey, did you guys hear the news?”

“What news?” Beomgyu asked, his eyes still locked onto the TV.

“Kai has a girlfriend~” Taehyun sang, before getting elbowed in his stomach.

“Dude!” Kai said, his eyes shifted to you and then to Beomgyu. “It was just a blind date my sister set me up on. It was stupid.”

Your fingers froze. You glanced over at Taehyun, still grinning as he played, and felt a sudden surge of jealousy. Your hands fumbled with the controller, struggling to keep your composure as your heart raced. You shot a quick look at Kai, whose focus wavered as his eyes were still locked onto your every movement as if waiting for a reaction.

"Why would you bring that up when we’re about to beat the last level?” Kai sighed, his brows furrowing in mild annoyance as his hands tightened around the controller.

Taehyun smirked, leaning back lazily against the couch. “Would you have preferred I brought it up on the first level?” he teased, eyes gleaming with mischief.

Kai rolled his eyes, exhaling in frustration. “It wasn’t a big deal,” he muttered, his voice casual, but there was a slight tension in his posture as if he wanted to brush the subject away quickly.

“So it did happen?” Beomgyu exclaimed, freezing his character mid-air on the screen.

“A couple of days ago,” Taehyun said casually, his attention still on the game. “I was surprised too. He didn’t mention anything about it, I only happened to walk past his little date at the cafe I frequent.”

Kai shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. “Yeah, it was just a setup my sister arranged. It was... fine.”

You felt a pang of jealousy and frustration, struggling to ignore the growing lump in your throat. You shifted in your seat, trying to refocus on the game, but your movements became increasingly erratic.

Your fingers pressed random buttons, desperately trying to regain control, but it only made things worse. The game character on the screen flailed aimlessly.

“Stop dying! You’re pulling us down!” Taehyun yelled, clearly exasperated with your lack of focus.

The criticism hit a nerve, and you snapped, unable to keep your frustration in check. “Oh, sure, blame it on me, Taehyun! Maybe if you hadn’t brought up Kai’s stupid blind date, I wouldn’t be so distracted!”

Taehyun looked taken aback, his eyes widening in surprise. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“It’s just... annoying!” you shot back, your voice sharp. “I’m trying to focus, and all I can think about is how—”

You suddenly noticed the three boys staring at you with wide eyes.

Realizing you’d let your frustration get the better of you, you quickly backpedaled. “I mean—sorry. I was just distracted,” you said, your voice trailing off awkwardly as you tried to recover from the outburst.

Beomgyu, ever observant, immediately noticed the shift in your demeanor. He shot you a sideways glance.

“Hey,” he said quietly, leaning in a bit closer so only you could hear, “I know you’re upset. Just take a deep breath.”

You met his gaze and saw the empathy in his eyes.

“Thanks,” you murmured.

Meanwhile, Taehyun was still chatting away about the date, completely oblivious to the tension. “So, how did it go, Kai? Did you have a good time?”

Kai shrugged again, looking a bit uncomfortable. “It was okay. We talked, had dinner. Nothing special.”

You clenched your jaw, trying to mask the jealousy. You had no right to be upset, but the idea of Kai with someone else was expectedly hard to handle.

Like you said, curse.

—

It had been a couple of weeks since you last hung out with Kai, and you'd been avoiding him, using work as an excuse. You hoped everyone bought it, though Beomgyu didn’t seem convinced. But you didn’t care. You had already turned down Friday night dinners twice in a row, and there was no way you could get away with skipping a third time. So here you were, back at their place, feeling a knot of nerves twist in your stomach.

You wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but you were terrified it’d be awkward with Kai. Ever since you found out about his blind date, your feelings had been gnawing at you relentlessly, making every thought of him more painful. You feared how being around him might make those emotions harder to suppress especially since you almost gave yourself away the previous time.

But when you arrived at his house, all your worries evaporated the moment Kai pulled you into a tight bearhug. "I missed you so much!" he exclaimed, his voice warm and genuine. You found yourself melting into the embrace, forgetting every ounce of awkwardness and jealousy. For a brief moment, all that mattered was the familiar comfort of his arms around you, and everything else faded away.

You loved being in his arms. Kai felt like a giant teddy bear, soft and comforting in a way that made you feel safe. You had thought about it many times before—if comfort could take the form of a person, it would be him. His hugs were the kind that melted away stress, and being close to him felt like home. No matter how anxious or upset you were, being in his arms always made you forget, even if just for a little while.

“I missed you too," you fumbled out, your voice softer than intended.

"God! It's been two weeks, but it feels like a year!" he laughed, pulling you over to the sofa. His excitement and warmth made you feel like you’d never been away.

"I knew you were busy the last couple of weeks," he said, reaching for his phone and opening the notes app. "So I made a list." He grinned, scrolling through it. "Here are just some things you missed during our dinners."

"You wrote them down on your notes app?" you giggled, genuinely amused by the thought of him keeping track of everything just for you.

"Of course," he replied with a playful glint in his eyes. "I can’t leave you out."

You don’t think he realizes just how sweet he is—or how incredibly frustrating it is that he's constantly this sweet. You're pretty sure he has no idea how much you want to scream every time he makes you feel this way. It was maddening, really, how effortlessly he could make your heart race with just a few words or a simple smile.

It had been about an hour since Kai filled you in on the events of the past two weeks. From what you gathered, Beomgyu sharted in his pants when he had diarrhoea from eating at a place down the street and Taehyun got drunk and wasted $500 sending TikTok gifts to Yeonjun during a live dance stream.

It seemed plausible enough. You missed them. Two weeks had passed, but it was more than enough time for you to fully feel their absence. Sure, they checked in on you every day, flooding the group chat, but you didn't respond—afraid you'd accidentally reveal your feelings for Kai. You weren’t about to make that mistake.

Still, you were starting to realize that avoiding them felt incredibly immature. You had forgotten just how much you loved your friends—and how much they loved you. Every part of you wished they wouldn’t change, not even a little. You wanted them to stay exactly as they were, unchanged and constant.

It was possibly why you were so adamant about keeping your feelings for Kai to yourself. The thought of confessing felt risky, one wrong move and the most precious friendship you’ve ever had could shatter. You couldn’t bear to be the one who ruined that.

Still…you wondered, how long you could take before you finally cracked.

“Do you think… we’ll still be friends when we’re older?” you asked, your voice soft and a bit uncertain.

Kai tilted his head, considering the question. “Like Yeonjun old or like my dad old?”

You laughed, trying to clarify, “Like, y’know, further into our adulthood.”

“Like when we have kids?” he asked, his tone casual but with a hint of curiosity.

“We?” Your heart skipped a beat, suddenly racing. The idea of him envisioning a future with you was both exhilarating and terrifying.

“Yeah?” He paused, looking at you with a thoughtful expression. “Like when you have your own family and I have mine.”

You nodded either way.

Kai looked at you with a genuine, reassuring smile. “Why wouldn’t we be?” he asked, his eyes warm and sincere. “We’ve been through so much together. Why wouldn’t we stay friends?”

Sure, you took some sort of comfort from his reassurance but there was a part of you still grappling with the realization that your feelings might never align with his.

You took a deep breath, forcing a smile as you met his gaze. “Mhm.”

Kai’s smile widened, and he playfully nudged you with his elbow. “C’mon. We’ll still be annoying each other, like always.”

You laughed softly, “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

"We won't change."

As you looked over at him, your eyes began to well up with tears. You looked away, pretending that you weren’t actually about to sob.

Kai’s gaze softened when he noticed the glistening in your eyes. He placed his hands gently on your thigh, as if sensing that something was troubling you, though he couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was.

“I promise,” he said softly.

“Right…sorry..I’m just–”

“It’s fine. I get it.” He nodded, cutting you off. “You don’t have to explain.”

You often wondered how someone who knew you so well didn’t have any idea that you liked him. The thought was both comforting and frustrating.

“Anyway, there’s still like 3 more things on my list.” Kai said, showing you his notes app.

You nodded, “All ears!”

Despite enjoying Kai’s animated recounting of the ridiculous things Beomgyu had done the week before, your mind was a tangled mess of thoughts about his recent blind date.

You tried to focus on the present, nodding and laughing along, but the image of him with someone else kept intruding.

You hesitated, your fingers nervously tracing patterns on the armrest of the sofa. You took a deep breath as you waited for Kai to finally finish his last story.

“Hey, Kai, can I ask you something?” you finally managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper. Your heart pounded in your chest as you waited for his response.

“Sure, what’s up?” he replied, still looking relaxed and upbeat.

“So, about that blind date your sister set you up on…” you began, your tone more serious now. “How did it–um– go?”

Kai’s expression shifted slightly, and he leaned back, thinking for a moment. “Oh, that. It was... okay. We had dinner and talked a bit. It was nice, but nothing special.”

You tried to mask your disappointment, nodding slowly. “I see.”

Kai looked at you with a hint of curiosity. “Why? What’s up?”

You shrugged, forcing a casual tone. “Oh! Nothing. I was just–uh–curious!”

“Well, to be honest,” he started, “the date was actually kind of fun. She was really nice and pretty. We had a good time talking and hanging out. She’s been asking me out on another date, but I’m not sure if I should go.”

You felt a wave of jealousy bubbling inside you, but you tried to keep your voice steady. “That’s nice!” you said, forcing a smile. “You should go.”

As soon as the words left your mouth, you winced inwardly, realizing the absurdity of what you’d just said. Here you were, encouraging the guy you had feelings for to go out on another date.

You looked down at your hands, trying to hide the flush of embarrassment creeping up your cheeks. “I mean… it’s your choice. Do what you think is right,” you stammered, trying to backtrack.

You tried to shake off the discomfort, but the conversation with Kai had left you feeling unsettled. As your phone rang, you seized the opportunity to shift focus.

“Hey, Beomgyu. What’s up?” you answered, trying to sound casual.

“Hey!” Beomgyu’s voice came through the speaker. “Just wanted to let you know we’ve got a busted tire. We’re going to be home 2-3 hours later than usual.”

“Shit, you guys okay?”

“Yeah, we’re fine,” Beomgyu replied, chuckling. “Taehyun’s totally losing it with his insurance company. It’s kinda hilarious. I’ll send you a video in the group chat.”

You heard Beomgyu laughing, and then Taehyun’s distant shouting.

“Fuck. He’s coming over to yell at me to delete it,” Beomgyu added quickly.

“Yeah, okay,” you said, trying to ignore the awkwardness from earlier. “I’ll see you guys later.”

You hung up and looked over at Kai, who was watching you with a curious expression.

“Well,” you said, attempting to lighten the mood, “looks like it’s just us for dinner tonight.”

Kai grinned, clearly unfazed by the earlier conversation. “Perfect. More time for us to catch up.”

Whatever he had just said did nothing to quell the storm of emotions swirling inside you. You couldn’t help but think, Curse you, Huening Kai, you perfect son of a bitch, as you watched him move about the kitchen, completely unaware of the effect he had on you.

—

“Can you pass me the salt?” “Hey…” “Dude!”

You suddenly felt a flick on your forehead and snapped out of your thoughts, turning to Kai, who had been trying to get your attention for a while.

“Oh! Yep. You should!” you blurted out. “You should totally try a new hairstyle.”

Kai laughed, the sound warm and reassuring. “We’ve moved on from that topic.” His expression softened as he leaned in, gently placing his hand on your forehead. “You alright? Are you feeling sick?”

His hand was surprisingly warm against your skin, and if his touch lingered even a moment longer, you were certain your cheeks would be hotter than the soup you were drinking. You nodded quickly, trying to brush off the heat rising to your face.

“Are you sure? It feels like you’re getting warmer,” Kai said, his voice tinged with concern.

Embarrassed, you pushed his hand away, the warmth of his touch still lingering. “It’s probably just the summer heat.”

“You sure?” he asked, still looking worried.

You nodded again, trying to sound more convincing. “Yep.”

“Hold on, you have a little…” He leaned in and gently used his thumb to wipe a small crumb from your lip.

The unexpected touch of his thumb against your lip sent a jolt through you. Startled by the sudden closeness and the tender gesture, you fumbled with the bowl of soup. In your flustered state, your hand slipped, and the bowl tipped over.

You abruptly stood up, wincing as a sharp, stinging pain shot through your foot. “Fuck,” you cursed under your breath, your voice tinged with frustration.

Kai’s face immediately filled with concern. He hurriedly rushed over to your side of the table, reaching for the spilled food and trying to help you clean up. “Are you okay?” he asked, his tone anxious.

“I’m good!” you said quickly, trying to push his hands away. You didn’t want him to see how flustered and embarrassed you were. His touch was warm, but right now, you just wanted to avoid any more attention.

You noticed a flicker of hurt in his eyes before you shook your head, trying to reassure him. “I didn’t mean to—I just—I should go get this cleaned up.” You quickly made your way to the bathroom, your heart pounding as you tried to escape the situation.

You heard Kai’s footsteps follow closely behind you. As you entered the bathroom, he called out, “The first aid’s under the sink.” There was a sigh in his voice, a mixture of frustration and concern. “You sure you’re okay?”

You nodded, even though he couldn’t see you through the closed door. “Yep,” you called back, trying to sound more confident than you felt.

Silence continued between the two of you as you carefully bandaged your scalded thigh. The faint rustling of Kai’s movements outside the door made it clear he was still there, waiting.

Then, you heard him whisper, almost too softly to catch, “There’s something wrong between us.”

You stayed silent, not trusting yourself to respond.

A moment later, his voice grew a bit louder as he repeated, “You sure you’re okay?”

“Yep.” You replied.

“You sure we’re okay?” Kai’s voice softened.

You didn’t answer, letting the silence stretch between you. Each second felt like an eternity, your mind racing as you tried to gather your thoughts. You could hear the faint rustling of Kai’s movements outside the door.

Finally, you took a deep breath and emerged from the bathroom, the bandage awkwardly wrapped around your leg. Kai stood there, looking at you with a mixture of worry and something else you couldn’t quite place.

“Sorry about that,” you said, forcing a smile. “It’s just a minor burn. Nothing to worry about.”

Kai’s eyes softened, though he still looked concerned. “It’s not just about the burn, is it?” He stepped closer, his gaze searching yours. “Something’s been off for a while now. I can’t help but feel like you’re distancing yourself from me.”

You felt a lump form in your throat, the vulnerability of the moment making it hard to speak. “It’s complicated,” you finally admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve been dealing with a lot of emotions lately, and I didn’t want to drag you into it.”

Kai’s expression shifted from concern to understanding, and he reached out, gently touching your arm. “You don’t have to go through things alone. If something’s wrong, I want to be here for you. I care about you too much to let things stay this way.”

His words struck a chord, and you felt your resolve begin to crumble. The warmth of his hand on your arm, combined with the sincerity in his eyes, made it hard to hold back your feelings.

“I—” you started, but the words caught in your throat. You looked down, struggling to find the right way to express what you were feeling. “I just… I didn’t want to make things awkward or complicated.”

Kai shook his head slightly, his gaze never leaving yours. "Please,” he whispered. “Just let me share the pain you're going through."

You met his eyes, finally allowing yourself to be vulnerable. “I… I care about you a lot, Kai. More than I thought I could.”

Kai’s expression softened further, and he took a step closer. “I care about you too.”

He didn’t get it. He didn’t understand the implication of what you were trying to say—that you liked him. That you cared about him differently from how you cared about Beomgyu and Taehyun.

You forced a smile. “Thank you. Let’s get back out there.” You nudged his shoulder.

He shook his head. “No.” He gently pulled you back, stopping you in your tracks.

“Kai…”

“No,” he repeated, his grip firm but gentle, careful not to hurt you. He guided you to the wall and leaned you against it softly. “I don’t want to leave it like this. I don’t know what this is, but I don’t feel like we’re okay.”

“We are.”

“You’re lying,” he sighed.

“I’m not—”

“Your eyes,” Kai said softly, “they tell me everything I need to know.”

“Are they telling you anything else?” you asked, your frustration clearly showing. “Since you know me so well, can you read anything else in my eyes?”

“Why are you getting mad at me?” Kai asked, his voice getting slightly louder, confusion and hurt in his voice.

“Because!” you snapped, your voice rising with anger. “Because!”

“Because what?!” Kai shouted back, his own frustration surfacing. “It’s like you don’t even want me around anymore!”

“And who said that? Stop assuming everything about me!” you yelled, your voice trembling with emotion. “Stop acting like you know everything about me!”

“Don’t I?!” he exclaimed, frustration evident in his tone.

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “You’re always going on about how much you know me, but do you really? You can’t even—” You paused, the words caught in your throat.

“Can’t even what? Notice that you’re avoiding me?” Kai’s voice was tinged with hurt and confusion.

The room was charged with tension. Your heart raced as you faced each other, your eyes locked with his despite your desperate urge to look away. His voice dripped with anger, and his eyes shimmered with a deep, wounded hurt.

“Have you or have you not been avoiding me?” Kai asked, his voice dropping to a deeper, more serious tone.

“I wasn’t igno—”

“You’re lying.”

“I wasn’t intentionally ignoring you,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper, filled with apprehension.

Kai’s shoulders slumped in defeat, his voice cracking with vulnerability. “W-why? Did I do something wrong? Did I say something wrong? Listen, whatever I did, I’m sorry—”

"You didn’t do anything." You sighed, burying your face in your hands.

"Then... why have you been avoiding me?" Kai gently pulled your hands away from your face, lifting your chin so you’d meet his gaze. His eyes searched yours.

“I–”

"You don’t think I’ve noticed? How you've barely been texting me, or the group? We used to talk every day. And now, for the past two weeks, it’s just been me... constantly asking about you. And the only person who seems to know anything is Beomgyu. Not even me." His voice cracked with frustration. "It used to be us. Just the two of us against everything. But now—"

“I—I’ve been going through some things on my own. You don’t have to know everything about me, Kai,” you said, your tone sharper than intended.

It almost felt ironic, and just as infuriating, that he stood there acting as if he truly understood you, when he didn’t even realize the most important thing—your feelings.

“We’re supposed to be best friends. What happened to being friends till we grow old?” Kai’s voice cracked, as if the weight of the words would somehow pull you back to him.

“Some of us don’t want that,” you snapped, your self-restraint finally shattering. The words left your lips before you could stop them, sharp and unforgiving.

Kai froze, staring at you in disbelief. The hurt in his eyes was unmistakable. Slowly, the grip he still had on your arm loosened, his hands falling to his sides, as though the very act of holding on had become too heavy.

“Kai—” you sighed, realizing your words had gone too far.

“No. I’m—I—” he cut you off, sighing heavily as he pushed his hair back. “I’m an idiot.”

“Kai—” you tried again, your voice softer, unsure of how to fix what had just happened.

He stayed silent, inching away from you slowly. Then, without a word, he knelt down to look at your injured leg. “Feel better,” he murmured, gently tracing the edge of the hasty bandage wrapped around your thigh.

He stood up to walk away, the silence between you growing heavier with each step. But just as he turned, your frustration finally boiled over, pushing you past the breaking point. You couldn't hold it in any longer.

With a voice raw and desperate, you shouted, “I LIKE YOU!” Your eyes were wide and your chest heaved with the effort of the outburst. The words seemed to crackle in the air, and your hands clenched into fists at your sides, trembling slightly as the intensity of your emotions took hold.

Kai froze in his tracks, his back still turned to you. The air between you crackled with the weight of your confession, the echo of your words hanging in the silence. You stood there, heart racing, unable to believe you had actually said it.

Slowly, Kai turned to face you, his eyes wide with shock and something else you couldn’t quite place—hope, maybe? Confusion? Possibly.

You swallowed hard, “I—I didn’t mean to shout,” you stammered. “But I’ve been holding it in for so long, and I just… I didn’t know how else to say it.”

Kai’s expression softened, his brows furrowing as he processed your words. “You like me?” he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper, as if he wasn’t sure he heard you right.

You nodded, “I just thought if I kept my distance, maybe it would go away… but it didn’t.”

He took a tentative step closer, his eyes never leaving yours. “Why didn’t you just tell me?”

“I was scared,” you admitted, your voice trembling as you spoke. Your hands fidgeted, fingers twisting nervously. “Scared that it would ruin everything between us. Scared you wouldn’t feel the same. And the blind date that Taehy—”

“It wasn’t even that serious to begin with, my sisters were just sick of hearing me complain about–well about you.” he interrupted, his tone gentle but firm. He took a step closer, his expression softening as he reached out, his hand almost brushing yours.

“Me?”

Kai let out a breath, his shoulders relaxing as the tension between you began to fade. “I never knew,” he said softly, taking another step closer. “But… you didn’t have to be scared. I—”

He hesitated, his voice catching in his throat, before finally meeting your gaze. “I like you too.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh,” Kai mumbled, awkwardly scratching the back of his head, clearly unsure of what to do next.

You laughed, the tension breaking slightly. “No one ever tells you what to do after… a confession.”

Kai chuckled softly. “I figured Beomgyu might know what to do. He’s been egging me on to tell you how I feel.”

“He has?” you asked, surprised.

Kai nodded, and a brief silence settled between the two of you, heavy but not uncomfortable. Finally, he spoke again. “I’m sorry.”

“What? Why?” you asked, confused.

“I should’ve told you sooner, when I had the chance. I didn’t realize that keeping it in would hurt you, and that was never my intention.” His voice softened, regret evident in every word.

“That makes the two of us,” you giggled shyly. “Well, I wasn’t exactly broadcasting my single status and going on blind dates, but still—” you teased playfully.

“For the record,” Kai said, scratching the back of his head with a sheepish grin, “my sisters were only sick of me complaining about how much I like you and how much of a coward I am for not telling you.”

“Oh. What exactly have you been complaining about?” You teased.

Kai’s cheeks pinked, “N-nothing. Nothing important.”

“Really? You do know I have Hiyyih’s Insta. I could probably just ask her myself,” you said with a mischievous grin.

“You wouldn’t.”

You nodded, a playful glint in your eye. “I absolutely would. So it’s either you give me a summarized version and keep the details to yourself, or I get the 100% detailed account from Hiyyih.”

“It’s not even—I just… you have to promise me you won’t laugh. Or make fun of me.”

“Promise.” You said, pretending to zip your lips with a playful wink.

Your eyes were filled with genuine adoration for the man standing before you. His vulnerability was written all over his face, and it only made your heart swell. Your gaze softened, allowing the affection you'd kept hidden for so long to shine through. After years of bottling up your feelings, you could finally show them, even if only a little.

“Well, uh… this is so embarrassing,” he mumbled quietly to himself, taking a deep breath to steady himself. “I’d tell them how… uh… pretty you looked every time we went out together,” he said slowly.

“Uh-huh…” You nodded, encouraging him to continue.

“And I’d tell them how you didn’t deserve the guys you were dating. How they were all assholes,” he went on, his voice growing louder and more passionate as he gained confidence with each word.

“And I’d tell them how much you deserve someone who genuinely loves you, someone who knows how funny you are, how quiet you get when you’re overanalyzing something, how loud you become when you're passionate, and how loving and protective you are to the people who matter to you.” He gulped, his voice shaking with emotion.

“How… much I deserved you,” he finished, his gaze searching yours.

You stood there, feeling a rush of warmth flood your cheeks. Your mind raced, but no words came. All you could manage was a soft, hesitant “Umm…”

Kai’s gaze was fixed on you, a mixture of hope and apprehension in his eyes. Seeing your struggle to find the right words, he took a deep breath and gently took your hands in his.

You hated to admit it, but Kai seemed to be winning the confession game you had inadvertently started.

As his words settled, you found yourself slowly leaning in, your heart racing with a mix of excitement and nervous anticipation. Kai’s eyes fluttered shut, and he met you halfway. His lips gently brushed against yours, the kiss starting soft and tentative.

Your hands gripped his, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened. You felt Kai’s arms wrap around your waist, guiding you gently against the wall.

“God, I like you so much,” he whispered into the kiss.

Just as you were losing yourself in the moment, the abrupt sound of the door slamming open ruined the moment the two of you had.

“WE’RE HOME!”

Taehyun and Beomgyu burst into the room, their eyes widening in disbelief as they took in the sight of you and Kai locked in a kiss.

“What the—” Taehyun’s voice came out as a high-pitched yelp, his hand flying to his mouth in shock.

The room was filled with a jumble of screams—your and Kai’s shocked cries mixing with Taehyun’s and Beomgyu’s high-pitched shouts. The noise was deafening, with each of you trying to out-scream the other.

“YOU’RE NOT SUPPOSED TO BE HOME!” you yelled.

“THE GUYS AT THE TOWING COMPANY SENT US HOME BECAUSE THEY LIKED ME! WHAT WAS I SUPPOSED TO DO?!” Taehyun shouted back.

“DO YOU EVER KNOCK?!” Kai yelled at the two of them.

“THIS IS A SHARED APARTMENT, YOU IDIOT!” Beomgyu countered.

“Enough about us! What the heck are you two doing? Spit-swapping in front of us like that?” Taehyun yelled.

You and Kai stood there, red-faced and speechless, your hands still intertwined but your mouths firmly shut. The embarrassment was palpable as you both tried to avoid eye contact, your cheeks burning with the sudden realization of being caught.

“We—uh…”

“We—”

The two of you glanced at each other, then back at Taehyun and Beomgyu.

“We…”

“Spit it out!” Beomgyu rolled his eyes, clearly impatient.

“We like each other?” Kai managed to fumble out, his voice trembling slightly.

At that moment, the room erupted into a new kind of chaos. Taehyun and Beomgyu, now visibly relieved and overjoyed, screamed with happiness.

“FINALLY!” Taehyun shouted, his voice a mix of triumph and excitement. “I KNEW IT!”

“Oh my god!” Beomgyu exclaimed, clapping his hands together in delight. “We can finally sleep in peace!”

“No more emo Huening Kai nights!”

“No more sad songs!”

Beomgyu and Taehyun grabbed each other’s hands, jumping in circles and celebrating for reasons you couldn’t quite grasp.

“Emo Huening Kai nights?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Every time you went out on a date with someone, Kai would come home with this sad look on his face,” Taehyun explained. “He wouldn’t want to play any games or do anything fun.”

“He’d just pout, act like a baby, order Chinese takeout, and then moan about how the guy you were dating didn’t deserve you,” Beomgyu continued, trying to hold back his laughter.

You looked at Kai, who was now blushing deeply and rolling his eyes in mock annoyance. “Well, that explains a lot,” you said, chuckling.

“When you both explain it like that, it makes me sound pathetic,” Kai said, shaking his head.

“But it was pathetic?” Beomgyu asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I think it’s cute,” you said with a smile.

“Gross,” Beomgyu said, scrunching up his face in mock disgust. “Wait, does this mean we’ll have to see this more often? GROSS!”

“I can’t believe Huening found a girl before us,” Taehyun sighed, shaking his head in disbelief.

“It’s possible that the two of you lack a certain charisma,” Kai replied with a teasing grin.

“Oh, and you have it?” Taehyun laughed, raising an eyebrow.

“Well, I do have the world’s greatest girlfriend,” Kai said, glancing at you with a proud smile.

“Girlfriend?” You teased, your eyes twinkling with mischief. “Who said anything about me being your girlfriend?”

Kai’s face turned a shade redder as he stammered, “Well, I—I just thought—”

“Thought what?” you interrupted, a playful smirk on your lips. “That I’d be your girlfriend even if you didn’t ask? I’m not that easy.”

“I’m sorry,” Beomgyu interjected, “You’re a little confident right now. Aren’t you the same girl who messaged me about how Kai looked like he had the most pillowy, kissable lips you’d ever seen?”

Your cheeks heated up. “CHOI BEOMGYU!”

“Oh, and also that cute little private TikTok you did after you cried over Kai…? Really cute,” Beomgyu continued, his grin widening.

In a desperate bid to stop him from revealing more, you clenched your fists and lunged at Beomgyu. You jumped onto his back and covered his mouth with your hands, muffling his voice before he could spill any more secrets.

Taehyun and Kai erupted into giggles, but Kai's laughter suddenly faltered as he realized, “Wait… what TikTok?”

“She did a TikTok where—” Beomgyu started, but you quickly shoved your hands over his mouth, pressing down firmly to silence him.

Unfortunately, Beomgyu was way stronger than you. With one swift move, he had you slung over his shoulder, your legs flailing as you tried to wriggle free.

“Fine. I won’t tell. Yet,” Beomgyu said with a mischievous grin.

#txt fic #txt oneshot #txt x reader #txt fanfic #txt fluff #txt imagines #txt scenarios #huening kai #kai x reader #huening kai fic #huening kai fluff #huening kai x reader #huening kai x you #tomorrow x together #huening kai one shot

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kukurubean · 9 hours

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personal update

Hi! Hello! I'm sorry I haven't been very personable lately. A lot of you probably know I have been struggling with my health. Which has been going on for. nearly 5 years now. And I've just steadily gotten worse and worse, lol,

Anyway. I wanted to post an update to say I may have finally hit a breakthrough. 🥲🤞

I have some sort of fun wombo-combo of about 3 or 4 conditions trying to destroy me all at once, so every treatment I've tried (which isn't actually a lot, since there are no real treatments for what I have and most doctors don't want to deal with it) has done nothing and I have also been to just about every kind of medical specialist under the sun. I still get nightmares over the disaster that was traveling all the way to Mayo Clinic and I've been trying to pick up the pieces ever since.

My main doctor right now is a rheumatologist who I think I haunt at night. I've stumped him for what seems like the first time in his life. But he's trying harder than anyone else I've had before. Everyone else sent me away at this point lol

But this update comes after I had a "fuck it" moment and decided to once again apply to the big hospital nearby, because apparently I am somehow on their roster after being rejected over and over for several years now 🤪 (I think it's because of an echocardiogram I did on one of their campuses.)

Anywho, we managed to find a doctor willing to prescribe me a drug could help me feel human again. I've been to about 3 neurologists over this nonsense and no one was willing to jump through the hoops for it because it is, admittedly, an absolute pain in the ass to prescribe. It's called Xywav and it's not only a highly controlled substance but also the only damn drug of its type on the market. So you can only imagine the gerrymandering.

He's sending me to another doctor first, just to see if this other guy can offer any insight into wtf is wrong with me, but if he doesn't suggest anything else I should finally be on track to try it! I obviously don't know if it will work for me but it's the only decent bet I have left. If it doesn't work I am going to cry for about 3 months straight so please help me manifest this

#health crap.#jillian talks sometimes

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naussensei · 1 day

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Satosugu's First Mission

“Not gonna lie, this is a little depressing.” Said Suguru, kneeling to inspect the lower Ferris wheel carts. “Why did our first mission together have to be in a grim place like this?

“Easy.” Said Satoru, he was doing the same thing on the other side of the ride. “Places like this hold large amounts of cursed energy. All the emotions from the people who came here. It lingers.”

“I would’ve thought this was a place for happy memories only.” Suguru said, trying to pry open a rusty door handle. He grimaced as it fell off, and he wiped the rust off his hand with a look of disgust. “Isn’t this where kids come for birthdays or something?”

“And where couples come for dates and stuff. Exactly.” Satoru agreed as he stood up. “But anywhere people gather can turn into a curse hotspot. Subway stations, shopping centers, amusement parks. Just imagine – the kids scared of heights, couples breaking up, parents arguing… the list goes on.”

It was no surprise to Suguru now that Satoru could be quite knowledgeable sometimes. Not that he would ever tell him that to feed his ego, but he could still acknowledge it in his mind.

They continued to inspect the ride together, Satoru in the front, climbing up the next cart, pulling Suguru up. He was just about to keep climbing when something occurred to him.

“So, couples, huh?” He said in the most nonchalant way he could manage, to hide his discomfort with the subject. He didn’t know a single thing about dates, or amusement parks for that matter, he had never been to either of them, and the thought of Satoru having more experience than him was almost humiliating. “Is that like, a thing? People go to theme parks for dates?”

“Duh, obviously.” Satoru said with a confident grin, then paused for a moment. “I mean… I guess. That’s what I’ve heard, anyway.”

Suguru’s curiosity was piqued. “Have you ever been on a date?” he asked.

Satoru scoffed, inspecting the inside of the cart. “Do you think the strongest sorcerer has time for dating?”

Suguru couldn’t help but grin. “So you haven’t.”

“Have you ?” Satoru countered.

“Me?” Suguru said, smiling with resignation. “Do you think the biggest weirdo in the normie world has time for dating?”

Satoru turned to him then, and Suguru was taken aback for a moment. The moonlight poured through the shattered window, casting a faint glow on Satoru’s face. Suguru couldn’t see his eyes behind the shades, which made him feel a bit uneasy, but by Satoru’s expression he seemed to be assessing something carefully, something that Suguru could not quite figure out.

“Fair,” Satoru finally said, and the moment he turned away again, Suguru caught a glimpse of a faint smile. The slightest feeling of satisfaction warmed Suguru’s chest when he did, because for once, he’d made Satoru laugh more than once in a night. Suguru’s own smile grew then, too, because he knew the meaning of that subtle smile. It was the perpetuation of a silent ‘were not that different after all’ that Satoru would never voice, but he didn’t have to.

“By the way… Shoko has never been on a date either.” Satoru said with putty lips, as if that made the situation more acceptable for them. “Not that I know, anyway. I never see her talk to any guys, other than Kusakabe.”

“Uh, right…” Suguru uttered. He had a good idea as to why he hadn’t seen her talking to guys, but he would not be the one to tell him that. For all he knew, Satoru could be interested in her. He’d rather redirect the subject to them again.

“16 and not a single date.” Suguru said, taking a seat on the worn bench to look out the window. “What a bunch of losers.”

“I’m still 15 for your information.”

“Yeah?” Suguru’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “When’s your birthday?”

“Why?” Satoru’s eyebrows rose even higher than his as he grinned. He bent down to Suguru’s eye level. “Are you gonna buy me a present? Otherwise I won’t tell you.”

Suguru sank back into his seat a little, yet held his grin. “Sure. I may, actually. That’s… if we don’t die tonight.”

“Dumbass.” Satoru scoffed, rising to kick Suguru softly on the shin. “Nobody is dying tonight.”

He collapsed on the seat in front of him, hands still in his pockets, the weak cart wobbling a little as he did. Then he looked outside the broken window. Suguru did so as well.

The night was still as ever, a cool breeze seeped through the hole in the window. It was dark and cold, but somehow, it was not unpleasant at all. Suddenly, Suguru did not feel like moving anywhere.

“December 7th,” said Satoru all of a sudden.

It took a moment for Suguru to realize he was talking about his birthday. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he said with a smile.

Satoru cocked his head at him. “Yours?”

“February 3rd.” Suguru shrugged, giving him an apologetic smile. “Turned 15 this year.”

“Ah, that’s not fair.”

“You kinda already gave me a birthday present.” Said Suguru, taking out his new phone from his pocket.

“Oh, that’s right!” Satoru said excitedly, moved to sit beside him and take the phone from him, no permission asked whatsoever. His face glowing with an excitement that Suguru could not relate to, but enjoyed watching in Satoru either way. “Did you change your wallpaper already? What tune did you customize it with?”

“I haven’t.” Admitted Suguru, slowly taking his phone back and moving closer to the window to make some space between them, and felt that if he moved any further he would fall out the cart. “We’re on a mission, Satoru. Now it’s not the–”

“Oh, give me that. It takes five seconds. I’ll send you one from my phone.” Said Satoru, his fingers already working on it before Suguru could even decline.

Suguru watched him do so in silence. It was a good thing at least one of them seemed to be entertained.

“Here you go, loser.” Satoru said as he threw his phone back to Suguru with a playful smile.

“Thanks.” Suguru chuckled. “So, how does it feel to know you're just as much of a loser as I am when it comes to dating?”

Satoru rested his hands behind his head and sighed. “Feels pretty fucking terrible, not gonna lie.”

“Hmm,” Suguru brought a hand to his chin and looked up, thoughtfully. “Well, we can count this as a date. Kinda feels like it, doesn’t it?“

“Uh, no… pretty sure it doesn’t.”

“How would you know if you've never been on a date?”

“Right,” Satoru scoffed, “because chasing cursed objects in a shitty place like this sounds very romantic.”

Suguru’s smile was smug. “Didn't take you as a romantic.”

“I’m not.” Satoru elbowed him softly. “Now stop talking and focus on the mission. ”

“Why?” Suguru’s grin grew wider. “Are you embarrassed?”

“I’m not.” Satoru said, averting his gaze, hand still behind his head. “I just wanna get this over with quickly. I don’t want Yaga or Yamato to yell at us for taking so long.”

Suguru leaned forward, seeking Satoru’s avoidant gaze. “We can still count it as a date and feel a little better about ourselves.” He said with a comforting smile, but Satoru had just stood to move out of the cart and begin their descent. Suguru followed closely behind.

“We’ll just omit the part about it being with a friend.” He insisted as they landed on the ground. Seeing that Satoru would not react, he added with a playful wink. “I won’t tell if you don’t tell.”

“Ugh,” Satoru hung his head forward. “Why are you talking so much today? You never talk. I liked you better when you were quiet.”

“Oh?” Suguru speeded up the pace to walk by his side. “Are you saying you did like me before?”

“Do you ever shut up?” Satoru whined as he dragged his feet to continue their way to the next ride.

Suguru circled closely around him to walk on his other side. “But you’re always complaining that I’m too quiet and boring, and that I try to be ‘mysterious’ and don't share enough about myself, and now suddenly you don't want me to talk?”

Satoru rolled his eyes and made a disgusted face. “And you couldn’t have picked a better time than in the middle of a fucking–”

Suguru could not hear the end of Satoru’s sentence. His voice was swallowed by the deafening roar that came from under their feet, the same kind they had heard back in the shopping mall earlier, but several times louder and more unsettling. They looked at the ground, exchanged a glance, and looked down again. The earth rumbled under their feet briefly, until it went quiet again.

“What was that?” Suguru said, catching his breath, his heart still jumping in his throat.

“A curse, evidently.” Even Satoru seemed a little startled. Though he quickly composed himself, and was now gazing up at the buildings, eyes moving rapidly, as though machinating a plan.

“Curse?” Suguru chuckled ironically . “More like a giant animal. I thought we were after a cursed object, not freaking Godzilla.”

“It definitely seems like a big one.” Satoru agreed, gaze still upwards as he began to look for a way up. “We should climb higher, to get a better visual. It may not be the only one around.”

“Wait,” Suguru stopped in his tracks, holding Satoru by an arm. “I have an idea.”

From: Our Last Summer in Ao3

#satosugu #satosugu fic #satoru x suguru #geto gojo #gego #goge

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kieraelieson · 2 days

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"One Emo Latte, with Extra Soulmates"

All Five Chapters - Or Read on AO3

Roll the Poll fic 1: Janus, Virgil, and Remy in a triad. In a Hurt/Comfort fic with a Soulmates universe and the prompt ‘housing’.

Content warning for kidnapping, fear of death, mild self-injury, quite a bit of cursing, as well as societal and specific poly-phobia.

Virgil’s head nodded and he jerked it upright. He’d hoped the smell of coffee would keep him awake, but he’d been nodding off ever since midnight.

“Heya, babes,” the barista said, giving him a wry, apologetic smile.

Virgil knew immediately why he was there. “Two hours again already?”

Remy nodded, peeking at Virgil over his shades. “Why don’t you head home and get some sleep? You could certainly use it.”

Virgil sighed, his inhibitions broken down by the lack of sleep and the way his favorite barista had allowed him to nod off in the corner all night, only following protocol when necessary. Namely, that a customer had to buy something every two hours, or else be asked to leave.

“I’m having… housing difficulties…” Virgil admitted, not willing to share any more.

Remy put a hand on his hip, considering Virgil. He then glanced around the cafe, confirming that it was empty. He sat down across from Virgil.

“We may be open 24 hours, but this really isn’t a great option.”

Virgil nodded. “Yeah, I know. I can— I can just go.”

“Hold on, bitch. I’m not kicking you out. Just trying to help you find a place to sleep.”

Virgil shrugged helplessly. “I don’t have much cash for a hotel or something.”

“What about your soulmate?” Remy asked. “I’m sure they’ll be willing to put you up for a night.” He winked at Virgil. “Pretty lil emo down on his luck, I’d tap that too.”

The flirty joke pulled a half grin out of Virgil. “I haven’t met him yet,” he admitted.

Remy shrugged. “Loads of soulmates are close to each other before they meet. Scribble down the address of the cafe. See if he shows up. Here, I’ve got a pen.”

Virgil took the pen, staring at it doubtingly.

Remy stood and stretched. “I need some caffeine in me too. I’ll treat you for this one.”

Virgil’s eyes went wide and he gaped at Remy. “No, you don’t have to do that!”

Remy just waved a hand dismissively in his direction, already going behind the counter and starting to pull out cups.

Virgil’s gaze was drawn to the pen again. He didn’t really dare to ask his soulmates for help. Not writing on his skin in public. They too clearly had different handwriting. Were too clearly Two.

It was the very reason he was out here now. Slipping up and referring to plural soulmates. His roommates didn’t want someone near them with two soulmates. No one did.

He’d been stopping by this cafe for over a year now, had made friends with Remy. He didn’t want to throw that away on a chance of a bed. He’d manage. He’d be fine. Somehow.

Maybe he’d try to get back inside the apartment anyway. Just cause his roommates didn’t like it, it wasn’t like they would physically force him out, right? If he just stayed in his room. Kept the door locked. He already wore long shirts and pants. As long as his soulmates didn’t screw him over with writing on his hands or face or something.

Remy came back, setting a steaming cup in front of Virgil. A to-go cup.

“Any responses?” Remy asked.

Virgil forced a smile. “Yeah, um, I’ve gotta get on the next bus, but he’ll meet me.”

“There you go!” Remy praised. “Have a nice night, practice safe sex, tell me all about it at some reasonable hour.”

Virgil stood up, taking the cup and laughing along with Remy. He left the cafe, abandoning the warm lit environment for the empty streets.

Someone entered just as he was leaving. Virgil only got a brief glimpse of him, but he was very unique, especially wearing a hat like that.

••^*^••

Remy huffed as Janus entered. And just after Virgil left too. He usually got a bit of time to chill on an overnight shift.

“Oh, and I’m just overjoyed to see you too,” Janus said smoothly, leaning against the counter with an entirely too attractive grin.

Remy rolled his eyes. “What’s your snakey ass doing bothering me at bitch o'clock in the morning?”

“A man can get a coffee, can’t he?” Janus purred, looking perfectly innocent.

“Not you,” Remy snarked, already starting to make Janus’s favorite.

Janus just smiled.

“Why are you really here?” Remy pushed.

Janus looked at his wrist, noticeably lacking in a watch. “Oh dear, what time is it?”

Remy scowled. “No.”

Janus looked back up at him, all innocence. “No? I genuinely do not have the time.”

Remy gritted his teeth. “You know someday I will not do this for you.”

Janus batted his eyelashes.

Remy shoved his coffee at him. “You’re lucky you’re pretty, bastard. It’s 4:27 am.”

Janus smirked triumphantly. “I was just chatting with you and sipping my coffee till 5.”

“Bitch.”

Janus wiggled his gloved fingers in Remy’s direction, sauntering out of the cafe. “I’ll owe you~”

“You better pay up this time, asshole!” Remy snapped at his back.

Fucking pretty ass Janus. And fuck his own crush on the man! He’d never have been dragged into all this if he could just keep it in his pants.

••^*^••

Janus arrived at the location. Why Remus had ever decided they had to meet up here was a mystery. As were most things about the man.

But. It was within walking distance of that cafe where Remy worked, so he had an easy alias and no license plate to track. His hat kept his face out of view from any cameras he didn’t discover ahead of time and avoid. It was early enough in the morning that both night owls and early risers were likely to be in bed.

Janus waited outside the apartments, putting himself in the shadow of a large ornamental shrub. Just a few minutes later a car drove up.

“Heya, Jan!” Remus greeted, throwing open the driver side door.

Janus grimaced at his volume, snapping in hushed tones. “Would you keep it down?”

Remus rolled his eyes obnoxiously, and then fished out a folder. “I got all the juicy details for you~”

Janus accepted the folder, flicking through it rapidly just to confirm Remus hadn’t swapped it with some folder of which sex toys he preferred or some nonsense.

“I appreciate it,” Janus said. “I’ll pay you the usual—“

He cut off as there was suddenly a loud crash from inside the nearest apartment. Janus cursed. This was why he would have preferred a different meeting location!

Remus craned his neck, trying to sneak a peek through the apartment window. “Oh this is perfect! Any suspicious persons’ reports will point right to those guys.”

Janus tensed, despite Remus’s optimism, as yelling continued from in the apartment. It was too muffled for him to tell what was going on, but he didn’t care to know either.

“We should get out of here,” Janus said.

Just then, the door to the apartment opened, and someone was pushed roughly out, falling to the pavement.

“Don’t let me see your freak ass again or I Will beat the shit out of you!” A man from within the apartment yelled, slamming the door shut.

Janus winced. He did not want to be a part of some domestic dispute. He turned to walk away, even if Remus was going to be an idiot and stay to watch.

But then the crumpled man on the ground said something that stopped Janus in his tracks.

Just one word. A simple, “You?” Implying recognition.

Fuck.

Janus didn’t know the man from Adam. But he was not allowing someone to see him, in this location, at this time, knowing who he was somehow. No. He could not leave witnesses.

He turned to Remus. “Help me.”

Remus, showing off one of his brief streaks of competency, scrambled out of the car and dashed the few feet towards the man.

Janus slid into the driver’s seat just as Remus pulled the struggling man into the backseat, one hand covering his mouth. He sped out of the apartment complex, taking roads with less cameras and getting out of the town.

Fuck, what was he going to do now?!

Chapter Two

Virgil was going to die.

He’d thought he could just slip into the apartment and to his room with everyone asleep, but Roger was still up, and saw him immediately. He confronted Virgil, ruining all plans of laying low as his words quickly became yelling. Virgil tried to defend himself, that he couldn’t help how many soulmates he had, and he hadn’t even met them! But Roger didn’t care. He wanted Virgil out.

Virgil, with a confidence built only of the coffee he could still taste on his tongue, had refused to leave. He’d thought that, angry as they might get, his roommates wouldn’t actually escalate to physically pushing him out.

Oh how wrong that was.

His ribs still ached from the several hits they’d absorbed before he’d been shoved out the door. And his head was spinning and aching from the impact against the coffee table.

And also the fact that he was going to die.

That guy with the hat was doing some, some drug deal or something, who knew, and Virgil like a supreme dumbass had opened his mouth.

Tall, big, and stinky had grabbed him, an arm wrapped around both of his, pinning them to his torso, and the other hand clamped over his nose and mouth. He couldn’t scream, couldn’t get the breath to. All his kicking and wriggling hadn’t been enough before he was pulled into the car.

And now they were driving away.

He was So Dead.

The guy holding him shifted the hand over his face once the car was moving, uncovering his nose so Virgil could breathe freely. He sucked in air, tears beginning to leak from his eyes.

He was the fucking worst, unluckiest son of a bitch to ever exist. Two soulmates, homeless now, kidnapped. And they didn’t have masks on. No masks meant he could recognize them, and they wouldn’t leave him alive.

He was going to die.

He didn’t want to die!

His whole life he’d been looked down on or bullied for having two soulmates but he’d never even met them! He wanted to at least see them before he died.

Virgil’s breath came faster, catching in his congested nose and making him panic. He needed to breathe! He couldn’t breathe!

His chest heaved with sobs and his desperate attempts to get air.

“Might get loud,” the man holding him said, and then abruptly the hand over Virgil’s mouth was gone.

Virgil gasped, drinking in the air. Without the cover over his mouth his sobs rang out loud in the otherwise silent car. If he wasn’t so thoroughly miserable and about to die anyway he would’ve been embarrassed, might’ve managed to stop himself, but he just couldn’t.

“I don’t wanna— Please, don’t kill me!” He forced out between sobs.

“We’re not going to kill you,” the driver snapped.

He didn’t know if he could believe it. But even without a single assurance that it was the truth, relief flooded through Virgil.

“I didn’t see anything,” he blurted. “I-I don’t have a clue who you are. I don’t know what you were doing. I d-don’t know anything. I swear I won’t tell anyone anything!”

The driver made a frustrated sound. “Just— shut up.”

Virgil fell silent, other than his breath coming in hiccuping half-sobs.

“What is our plan, Jannie?” The man holding him asked.

The driver made a rough, growling sound. “For now, I’m getting us out of town. We’ll have to find a way to manage him without you carrying him everywhere so I can drop you off. I’ll figure out what to do from there. And I’ll need to keep the car.”

“I’ve got duct tape!” The man said, entirely too happily.

Virgil squirmed against his hold, trying to get his arms free to— to— to make a nuisance of himself at least. Of the two men, one had recognized his need to breathe, and the other had told him to shut up. He liked his living chances better with both of them than just the one.

But the man holding Virgil was far too strong for him to fight against, and soon Virgil was pressed down into a car seat, his arms pulled behind his back. He bit back another sob as his wrists were taped together, and then the tape wound around his torso and arms haphazardly.

“Check him for anything dangerous,” the driver said. “And anything he could use to contact someone.”

A chill ran down Virgil’s spine. He was gonna die anyway, wasn’t he?

••^*^••

Janus’s mind had been nothing but a steady stream of ‘Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck’ ever since he’d heard the crash in that apartment.

Now he had a man tied up in the car, terrified for his life, and no idea what to do with him.

Now that he had the folder, Janus’s plans had been to buckle down and work on the contents. It would take him days, and that was if he managed to be fast enough. He didn’t have Time for a problem like this!

And even if he Had time, that still left the question of what was he going to do?? He couldn’t let him go, that was obvious. He definitely wasn’t going to kill him. The only other option seemed to be keeping him, but that wasn’t at all viable long term.

At least for the moment though, Janus couldn’t see any other options.

Remus had flipped up the man’s hood over his eyes, so he couldn’t look out and around at where they were as they approached a place where Janus could drop Remus off. He also properly buckled him in before he got out, a thing he ought to have done ages ago. Since then, the man had been quiet.

Janus drove, looping around and doubling back multiple times on his way to his house. The less the man knew about where they were and how to get back, the better.

Janus sighed heavily as he parked. His gut was already twisted in knots, his conscience screaming with how much he’d already done to this random person. And here he was about to scare him more.

He pulled out the gun he knew Remus had hidden in the car, pointing it at the man, held low enough that he could see it under the hood.

The man stiffened, but Janus didn’t give him time to beg for his life again. He didn’t think he’d manage to hold onto him at all if he did. He was cursed with a bleeding heart and if this man begged again he might just let him go and fuck all the consequences.

“You’re going to stay quiet.” Janus commanded. “You’re going to come with me into the building, and you’re going to do everything I say.”

The man nodded rapidly, his breathing getting fast and shallow.

“I don’t want to bother keeping this gun pointed at you the whole time, but be assured I will always have it on hand.”

The man nodded again.

Janus tucked the gun into his waistband, wishing he’d had the forethought to bring a holster. Then he got out of the car. When he opened the back door, the man stayed silent, as he’d been told to. Janus undid the buckle and guided him into the house.

He breathed slightly easier once he was inside the house with the door locked.

Now what?

He couldn’t just start in on work with curious eyes wandering around.

It was nearly seven now. Maybe he’d make breakfast.

He knew he was just continuing to push the real problem down the road, but he hadn’t come up with any answers.

Janus left the man standing in the dining room and started looking through his fridge. He wanted something that would take a bit of time. Push that problem just a bit further before he reached a point where he had to deal with it.

He finally pulled out some vegetables and started chopping them. He took his time slowly making complex omelets, only looking towards his captive when the man maneuvered his way to the floor to sit.

Unfortunately, even after the long cooking, Janus didn’t have any better ideas. This was so far out of the realm of what he expected he’d never planned for it, never considered it before.

He carried the plates into the dining room and set them at the table. He helped pull the man up so he could sit in a proper chair. Then he flipped back his hood.

It was the first real look he’d gotten at the man’s face. Janus swallowed. His… very pretty face. If he wasn’t careful this would be Remy all over again, only worse because he’d already drug this man so deep into his mess he couldn’t see a way to get him out again.

Janus’s second reaction was pity. The man was blinking in the brighter light, out from under the shade of his hood, and his face was tearstained and red, streaked with black eyeshadow. Janus also noticed a large bump near the back of his head.

He gently probed it, concerned as the man winced, trying to duck away from his hand. This was recent. Remus hadn’t knocked him around any. It must have been in the commotion in the apartment.

Janus went back to the kitchen. He got a cloth and dampened it, then also got an ice pack.

“If I take off the tape, you will not attempt to attack me or run away,” Janus said. He’d found that in many cases, phrasing questions as statements and statements as questions tended to throw off the other person, and he got what he wanted more easily.

The man nodded silently. Janus remembered that he’d told him to be quiet earlier. He moved behind the man, cutting at the tape with scissors. “You’re welcome to speak, so long as you aren’t loud.”

“Thanks,” the man muttered.

“Are you in pain?” Janus asked, considering whether this was a simple ice and ibuprofen type of situation, or whether he would need to attempt further first aid.

The man shrugged, picking up the cloth and cleaning his face, then holding the ice pack to the bump on his head.

Janus rolled his eyes at the non-response. “Would you object to taking painkillers?”

That prompted a quiet, “No.”

Janus retrieved the bottle, opening it in plain view so it could be seen he wasn’t switching the pills with anything. He got two cups of water, and then sat down to eat his own, rather cool by now, breakfast.

“What’s gonna happen now?” The man asked, looking up at Janus.

His gaze was piercing, possibly even more so because he didn’t intend it to be. Janus feigned nonchalance.

“I’m not telling you. You’ll find out as it happens.”

He could see a faint shudder run through the man. He didn’t have a better answer though, for him or for himself.

••^*^••

Remy had been thinking about Virgil ever since he left. He hoped it had gone well, getting picked up by his soulmate.

It drew his mind to his own soulmates. At a young age they’d come to realize how dangerous it was to be three, and they tried to spare each other the danger.

He didn’t know either of their names. Didn’t know where they lived. What they did for work. Nothing. He hadn’t even contacted them in several weeks.

He wanted to.

The desire built up over the remainder of his shift, and when he got home Remy caved to it.

He scrawled in sharpie, high up on his thigh where it wouldn’t be easily noticed regardless of what he chose to wear, Heya. How’s it going?

Chapter Three

Virgil noticed the note on his thigh when he used the bathroom. It gave him an idea. A brief flutter of hope.

His phone might have been taken from him, but if he could manage to contact his soulmates, maybe he could get help.

He exited the bathroom, and immediately his captor’s gaze was on him, watching as Virgil returned to the couch. He didn’t seem to be unkind. He’d given Virgil food, and painkillers, and hadn’t hurt him. Was even letting him walk around this house without being tied up.

And it was a house. Not like an abandoned warehouse or a back alley or any of the other scary locations Virgil had expected to end up in. He might… not die?

His captor was still incredibly intimidating though, and was keeping a close eye on Virgil. He didn’t know where to find a pen or a marker, and even if he did, he was sure he’d be discovered with whatever he wrote on his skin.

But if he did something temporary maybe?

Virgil tentatively laid down on the couch. His captor watched him do it, but then went back to reading through some paperwork of some kind. Virgil rolled over, facing the back of the couch.

It made his skin crawl to have his back to the man, but he had a purpose for it. It gave him just a bit of cover, just enough hopefully.

Virgil pushed his sleeve up. He was going to dare to do this on his arm. He knew his soulmates mostly wore clothes that covered skin, but if any part of them would catch their attention, forearm was a safe bet.

Taking his thumbnail, Virgil pressed hard into his skin, dragging the nail to make a white line in his skin. The white quickly became an irritated red, but he knew from experience that the red would be gone in just a few minutes. He slowly made more lines on his skin, trying to keep his movements small so he wouldn’t be noticed.

Help

••^*^••

Remy stared at the faint red lines on his forearm as they appeared. He’d noticed around the time the H was completed, while he was changing into pajamas to sleep the day away. His curiosity quickly turned to concern as the word finished.

He grabbed a pen, scribbling onto his wrist.

How?

As he watched, waiting, the Help faded on his arm. Definitely not red pen. That… that definitely seemed worse.

In response, he got a slow and scratchy-looking number. A phone number.

Well. Remy could definitely call.

The phone rung multiple times, eventually going to voicemail, unanswered.

“Hey, this is Virgil. I missed you somehow, but just send a text or leave a message and I’ll try and get back to you later.”

Remy frowned, confused and more than a little unbelieving. Virgil?? What did Virgil have to do with this?? With one of his soulmates? But it was definitely his voice.

Virgil was supposed to be on a bus right about now, maybe even picked up already by his own soulmate. Maybe Virgil’s soulmate was nearby to Remy’s soulmate? This was all just so weird and confusing.

Remy next tried texting.

Hey, everything alright?

The response he got back alarmed him even more, though it didn’t remove any of his confusion.

Hello. He’s at the hospital. Unconscious, but stable. He was in a car accident. I’m informing his family and work through his contacts, and then turning the phone off. He won’t be able to come in for a few days.

Remy stared at the text for a long few minutes. So Virgil didn’t have his own phone. He’d never talk like that. And whoever did seemed to think that Remy was someone from his job? And he was in the hospital?!!

Remy wrote on his wrist, just under the how?

???

He didn’t have any better ideas of what to write.

There was no response. Not for a while.

Then finally.

Help

Please

Remy started looking online to see if there were any way to track someone based on just a phone number.

••^*^••

Janus didn’t know why he hadn’t considered that of course the man had a job. They’d both startled when the phone rang, and the man had cringed into the couch, rapidly throwing out any number of apologies for being called by his boss, as if Janus was going to fault him for that.

Janus had figured out something to send back, and sent it to the top few contacts on the phone just in case before turning it completely off.

What was he supposed to do now?

Surely people would begin looking for the man sooner than later. And Janus could manage to whisk him into hiding, but that would be a lot of work. And… he wasn’t sure he could handle it, emotionally. The longer this went on, the worse he felt.

He wasn’t cut out to be a kidnapper. Certainly not a kidnapper of a random handsome stranger. If he’d hated the man, perhaps he would be managing this better.

An idea was beginning to form though. An idiotic idea. A stupid, horrible, terrible, dangerous idea.

If he could get the man on his side, he wouldn’t need to hold him captive. On the other hand, if the man was absolutely against rights for people with multiple soulmates, well, it would be easier for Janus to hate him.

On the dangerous side, if the man was smart and had an ounce of self-preservation, he’d go along with everything Janus said, at least verbally, and then go straight to the police as soon as he was released.

The real question was if the danger of that outweighed the twisting in his gut every time he scared the man. Janus was way too fucking soft for this. He should’ve kept Remus here.

Janus sighed. He was an over-emotional fool.

••^*^••

Virgil was trying hard to stay calm. It wasn’t working.

His soulmate had actually called. Really and truly. And then his captor had sent some kind of message in response and had turned his phone off. Virgil hoped he’d convinced him that it was just work calling cause he was late. But he hoped more that his soulmate could actually do something with the little information.

Only one soulmate had responded to his desperate messages, but with such a short time on his skin, he wasn’t surprised that the other hadn’t noticed.

His arm tingled unpleasantly, the skin irritated and tender.

Suddenly, his captor let out a sigh. Virgil tensed as the man closed his folder and turned his attention entirely towards Virgil.

Virgil carefully sat up.

“I imagine you are aware that it is possible to have more than one soulmate,” his captor said.

A tremor ran through Virgil. Oh shit. Oh shit, oh shit, he wasn’t kidnapped randomly cause he witnessed the deal. He was kidnapped for having two soulmates, this was So Much Worse! And he’d gone and asked one of his soulmates for help!! They’d be pulled into this!

His captor’s lips pressed together. He continued speaking. “Having multiple soulmates is estimated to occur in 0.67% of people. Though many of those hide this fact, so the percentage may well be inaccurate.”

Virgil hesitantly nodded. He had to try and stay on this man’s good side.

“The reason it’s often a hidden fact is that society frowns heavily on those with multiple soulmates,” his captor said, emotion flickering over his face. An emotion Virgil never expected. Something like… grief?

“Many people don’t know until they run into it that there are laws restricting actions by those with multiple soulmates, particularly if it can be proven that the individual has multiple.”

Virgil actually didn’t know that. He’d heard rumors, but had always just tried to lay low himself.

“Because of societal standards, it’s incredibly hard to change these laws… through normal avenues.”

Virgil swallowed. This sounded an awful lot like telling him about illegal things. He’d be an accomplice. Maybe. He wasn’t entirely sure how that worked. But regardless, he’d never be allowed to live once he heard about illegal plans.

He couldn’t deny his curiosity, but more than that he was scared. He covered his ears with his hands.

“I-I don’t know why you’re telling me this!” Virgil blurted. “Look, good for you trying to help us, but don’t tell me illegal shit! The more you tell me the more I can tell police, and I’m not an idiot, I know you can’t just let that go. I don’t wanna end up dead, stop telling me things that’ll make me end up dead!”

He finally managed to shut himself up. He’d never intended to say all that. He glanced up at his captor’s face, expecting a scowl, or even the gun pointed at him again. But instead there was a sort of pleased shock.

“Us?”

Virgil’s face drained of blood. “N-no, I didn’t mean that. I meant to say them. Them.”

The man grinned. “You definitely said us.”

“I didn’t!” Virgil protested. “Or I didn’t mean to!”

“You have multiple soulmates,” the man said, his grin widening.

“I do not!” Virgil yelled, accidentally breaking the ‘be quiet’ rule. “I don’t! I-I-I’m normal! I’m not a—“ his voice cracked, and he swiped angrily at his eyes, which were leaking again.

The man’s expression softened. “It’s alright,” he said gently.

“It’s not!” Virgil argued. Why he was being an idiot and getting angry and upset and arguing when the man across from him had a gun he had no idea. But he couldn’t seem to help it. Feelings were rushing up from his chest, pouring out his throat. “It’s not ok! It’s never been ok! People always hate you for it and I can’t… I haven’t even met them!”

He was crying. He swiped his sleeves over his face.

“Why does everyone hate me for it? I didn’t even get to meet them. Everyone else gets to find their soulmate! Everyone else gets a happy ever after! Why do they fucking hate me so bad!?”

At some point the other man had moved from his chair across from Virgil to sitting on the couch next to him. He took the hand Virgil was tugging at his hair with, loosening his grip on the strands.

“I have multiple too,” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper, hard to hear over the harsh breaths stuttering out of Virgil’s mouth.

“I didn’t even get to meet them,” Virgil repeated, the words coming out in a whimper.

“You should’ve gotten to,” the man said.

The words seemed to ring in Virgil’s mind, not quite sinking in, but refusing to leave.

“You deserve to meet your soulmates,” the man said firmly. “You deserve to get to love them. To be near them. Just as much as anyone else.”

Virgil stared at him, the validation cracking a dam he’d long held within him, emotion flooding out and overwhelming his already strained system. He lurched forward, clinging for comfort to a source he never would’ve considered.

The man let him cling, even wrapped his own arms around Virgil, gently shushing him and telling him it would all be ok.

Chapter Four

Janus wasn’t sure how this had happened. But he’d held the man while he cried, and now he had another damp cloth, wiping his face.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m like this. I guess I just haven’t slept and…” the man trailed off, hugging one of Janus’s throw pillows to his stomach.

“Would you like me to take you home?” Janus asked. He hadn’t thought it through. But he didn’t regret it either. Regardless of what he chose to do next, this man didn’t deserve to be held captive and scared.

The man’s face cycled from surprise back to teary. “I don’t have one anymore.”

Janus pressed his lips together. Well, he had seen the man forcefully kicked out.

“You’re welcome to stay if you like. As a guest. I won’t force you. Or if there’s somewhere you’d like me to take you?”

The man’s face scrunched up, clearly caught between gratitude and suspicion. “Why would you do that?”

Janus gave him a small smile and a shrug. “You’re like me. If I’m going to fight for us, how could I then hurt one of us?”

“But—but I still saw your weird deal. A-and I can recognize you. I could tell the cops and— you definitely shouldn’t just let me go.”

Janus’s smile became wry. “I’ll have to take the chance that you won’t.”

The man just looked disbelieving.

Janus set down his cloth. “I won’t ask that we start over. I’ve already done more than I expect to be forgiven for. But perhaps we could try introductions? My name is Janus.”

Despite his disbelief, after a moment the man held out a hand. “Virgil.”

Janus shook it gently. “I’m glad to make your acquaintance, Virgil. Would you honor me by being my guest? If you haven’t slept, there’s a bed you’re welcome to use.”

Virgil rubbed his eyes with his sleeves. “It’s not fair to kidnap someone and then be all nice. Giving off real mixed signals.”

Janus couldn’t help chuckling. “I should not have kidnapped you. I’m truly sorry.”

Virgil shrugged. “You had to. Someone saw you doing illegal shit. This is the weird part.”

Janus kept chuckling, something traitorous in his chest doing little flips. “I’m well aware.”

Virgil blinked, slowly, and Janus could see as tiredness began beating his inhibitions.

“I think… yeah. I might take you up on the bed. Would you…” The spark of fear returned to his eyes for a moment. “Would you put the gun somewhere? Out of reach.”

Janus nodded solemnly. At some point, he would explain to Virgil that this particular gun was incapable of shooting, but this didn’t seem like the time.

Janus stood, offering a hand to help Virgil up. Virgil didn’t take his hand, but did follow as Janus directed him to the bedroom. Janus left him alone and went back to work, but he was unable to get him out of his mind.

••^*^••

Virgil curled up on the bed, feeling awkward about laying in someone else’s bedroom. The exhaustion was tugging at him far more than the awkwardness, however, and he was slowly relaxing.

His mind was still full of swirling emotions, but fear had retreated to one of the smallest. The man- Janus, was definitely still doing illegal shit, but he was trying to help people with multiple soulmates. He may have kidnapped Virgil, but looking back, about the worst thing he actually did to him was to tie him up with tape and threaten him with a gun.

Virgil frowned. Those were definitely bad things. So why was his brain trying to say they paled in comparison to what he’d said? Actions were definitely more telling than words.

But those words.

You deserve to meet your soulmates.

You deserve to get to love them. To be near them.

They’d pierced somewhere deep within Virgil, letting light and air in, allowing him to want. And now he couldn’t stop himself from wanting.

He felt he might owe Janus something deeper and more important than the kidnapping.

And his mental image of Janus had shifted from the terrifying stranger in an odd hat, and now was all warm chest and soft words. And acceptance.

They were alike. They both had multiple soulmates. Virgil had never met anyone else with multiple soulmates, at least not knowingly. Having his deepest secret not only known, but shared. It screwed up his self-protective instincts, already putting Janus as part of Us, when he should undeniably be a Them.

Virgil’s brain flitted over the idea of helping Janus, and he tried desperately to cut off that possibility entirely. He was not about to get himself into criminal business just because a handsome man was just like him and trying to help and… oh fuck he was genuinely considering it.

Virgil buried his face in the nearest pillow. This was idiotic. This was death wish levels of stupid. He should not be considering this!! He’d just been kidnapped by the man for fuck’s sake!

••^*^••

It had been nearly an hour of Remy trying to figure out how to use a phone number to track a person. He’d stumbled across more information about Virgil than the anxious man would ever be comfortable knowing could be found on the internet, but no way of tracking where his phone was at the moment.

And still the minutes kept trickling by.

There were no new messages. Remy kept his sleeve rolled up, and checked it every few minutes just in case, but nothing.

He was getting more and more concerned, both for his unknown soulmate, and for Virgil.

He had one more option, either to help him, or to convince him that everything would be fine. Janus.

Janus owed him anyway.

And if he was in the cafe wanting an alibi the night before, he was almost sure to be holed up in his house ignoring all attempts to contact him. So Remy would have to go to him.

That decided, Remy grabbed one of his emergency cold coffees from the fridge and got into his car.

Janus’s house was maybe 20 minutes away. Remy kept his sleeve pulled high, glancing away from the road on occasion in case of further messages.

He unlocks Janus’s door without bothering to knock first.

“Jay! Gotta problem here.”

Janus comes quickly around the corner, concern and alarm plain on his face. “What happened? Are you alright?”

Remy gestures to his arm. “I am, but apparently my soulmate isn’t, and it’s got some weird crazy thing to do with my friend Virgil, and you’d better have some cool illegal way to track a bitch, cause I am not used to being a worrier and I hate it!”

Janus blinked several times at the barrage of words. Remy cursed at his slow uptake. “Come on, Jay! Open your little bag of tricks and help me out here.”

“Virgil?” Janus asked, apparently painfully slow today.

Remy groaned loudly. “Yes. I’ve told you about him before. And apparently I’ve got a soulmate near him, cause I was sent his number and a message for help.”

Janus takes his hand, frowning down at his arm, bare of everything other than what he’d written himself.

There’s the sound of a door from further in the house, and Remy has only a moment to wonder who Janus has over when a very familiar figure comes around the corner.

“Remy?” Virgil asks, and then when he sees him, “Remy!”

Virgil unexpectedly runs forward and grips Remy around the waist. They hadn’t really… hugged before. So it’s strange, but Remy’s concern being suddenly relieved at seeing Virgil unhurt outweighs that. He wraps a protective arm around Virgil.

“Oh hell, nah. There’s some major explaining to do.” Seeing Janus looking guilty, Remy jabs a finger at him, sloshing the remainder of his drink inside the cup. “You. Talk. Now.”

Janus abruptly looks even more guilty.

Virgil suddenly gasped, grabbing at Remy’s arm and staring. Before Remy can explain about his soulmate’s messages, Virgil is shoving his own sleeve up, holding it close to compare.

Remy stared with wide eyes. It was Virgil. Virgil was his soulmate. One of them, anyway.

“Oh, you lied to me,” he breathed out, not genuinely upset. He understood lying about multiple soulmates. He’d done the same himself many times.

Suddenly, several things clicked together in his head, and he rounded on Janus. “What the hell did you do?!”

Janus raised both hands. “There’s a whole story to it, Rem—“

Remy stepped forward, backing Janus against a wall, using his extra few inches to loom over him. “Better start telling then.”

“I’m fine… now,” Virgil said, sounding almost defensive of Janus.

Remy’s eyebrows shot up. There was some Tea here. And he was Going to be told All of it.

After a full explanation, Remy stood above Janus, his arms crossed. Janus looked supremely guilty, as he Was.

Remy grabbed his arm, shoving the sleeve up. As he now expected, his scrawl was on Janus’s wrist as well.

“I told you we should check if we were soulmates!” He exclaimed.

Janus just stared with wide eyes, awe taking over his expression. He reached out softly to Virgil, comparing his arm to his as well.

Virgil was just looking back and forth between the two of them with shock and wonder.

“Alright babes,” Remy said authoritatively. “This is how it’s gonna go. You,” he pointed at Janus. “Are going to pull out your first aid kit and we’ll check Virgil over for any hurt he got from that asshole he used to call a roommate. Then you’re going to give us your bedroom for a nap, and treat us both to a good lunch when we wake up from a nap. After that, and only after, will we start to consider forgiving you.”

Janus grimaced, but to his credit, he knew when it wasn’t the time to argue.

“You,” he turned on Virgil. “Are going to show us everywhere that hurts. Once I’m convinced that you’re properly ok, then it’s nap time. I’ll let you make your own decisions on Janus after. As far as I’m concerned, he’s sleeping on the couch tonight and owes me about a hundred coffees.”

Janus was starting to look genuinely dejected, and Remy grabbed his collar, pulling him in for a deep kiss.

“Tonight we talk about being soulmates,” he said more gently. “And how we want to play that.”

Virgil grabbed Remy’s hand in one of his, and Janus’s with the other. His eyes were shining. He didn’t say anything, but he squeezed both their hands tightly.

Well! Discovering two of his favorite people were his soulmates. Not a bad day.

Chapter Five

~one month later~

Virgil read the paper carefully, studying each word at a time. He highlighted a line before passing it to Janus.

“This bit reads oddly.”

Janus looked at it, and his nose wrinkled. “That bit was original.”

Virgil scrunched his face up. “That’s been in the law?”

Janus shrugged, the look of disgust on his face apparent. “There’s a reason I’m changing it.”

Now that he was a full part of Janus’s operation, Virgil had been told everything. Janus was slowly taking laws and regulations, tweaking them subtly, and getting a man on the inside to swap them with the originals. That man, Patton, was married to Remus’s brother, and they had another partner named Logan who was not yet let in on illegal activity.

Change was slow. Incremental. It had to be. It couldn’t be noticed, or everything would be ruined.

But a law here tweaked to be more lenient, a regulation loosened there, and society gradually became less hostile to people with multiple soulmates. Slowly.

Virgil reached over, wrapping his fingers over Janus’s. Janus smiled at him softly, and raised his hand to his lips. Virgil watched as a small flower bloomed to existence on his knuckle, drawn by Remy.

He flushed slightly. He still wasn’t ready for the full kisses that Janus and Remy often shared, but he was certain that smaller affections like this filled his heart just as full.

Janus released his hand, going back to his work. Virgil took the paper back, continuing his own proofreading of the draft.

••^*^••

Remy often found himself drawing on his skin now. Drawings couldn’t be so easily pointed to different hands, and thus were safe to revel in. Flowers over his knuckles, hearts over his hands, larger more detailed designs covering his arms and legs.

His night shifts at the cafe were never quite so dull anymore, knowing he could send a bit of art to one of his loves. And many times, one of them would show up. With Virgil, it was often for coffee and long talks, like they had before but deeper, more tender. Janus still wanted an alibi half the time he stopped by, but now there were visits where he’d come to make out if the cafe was empty.

When his shift was over he’d head back home. Virgil was coming over in the morning. He often split his time between Remy and Janus’s houses, almost like they had a custody agreement over him.

It was difficult for Remy sometimes, adjusting to a partner who wanted to take things real slow. But Virgil’s softness and cute grumpiness was uniquely special to him, and he looked forward to the day he’d get to kiss him silly.

Despite the rough time that brought them to realize they were soulmates, none of them truly regretted it, though Janus still apologized if one of them brought up the kidnapping.

••^*^••

Janus had never felt so fulfilled.

He’d always believed strongly in the cause, knowing he was a member of the minority he fought for. But it was different somehow, having his soulmates with him.

Remy and Virgil were so similar and yet so different. Both would snark and snipe, especially as Virgil got more comfortable around him. But Virgil had a softness to him where Remy had passion. Remy had initiative where Virgil had caution. Virgil had gentleness where Remy had strength. Both so unique. Both so precious. Both somehow his. And he theirs.

He was reaping the very reward he wished to give to everyone with multiple soulmates. And it was sweet.

Janus subtly shifted position, careful not to wake either of his partners. They’d spent a late night and were now napping, leaving him the most lucky with getting to experience them laying on either side of him.

They’d started with ‘trapping’ him, each laying over one of his arms to prevent him from working, but it had quickly shifted into soft cuddles as they fell asleep. And despite his earlier protests, he didn’t truly mind in the slightest.

He wanted to buy a larger house, or at least a larger bed, as this one only barely contained them if none of them tried to roll over. He didn’t make much money, certainly not legally. So it was a rather futile dream, about as futile as his dream to one day marry them. But a man could dream.

Tagging @snowdice Since I used your Roll the Dice game to start this fic! 🥰

#my own work #sanders sides #virgil sanders #janus sanders #remy sanders #remus sanders #roll the poll

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