#i just really want to be held after a nightmare

[insomniactic-daydream]

Since I Survived..

Pro Hero Bakugo ♡ Pro Hero Reader

Summary: Both of you are pro heroes in your prime. But after a gut-wrenching dream, Bakugo considers other plans for his life with you.

This is an alternate happy ending of 'Beside You' cause I don't want my readers to be depressed. 😭

I recommend reading that first but it can be a stand alone.

Part 1 (Sorta) 》 'Beside You'

TW: Implied deaths, Children (idk if that considered a tw but oh well)

Bakugo's vision starts to dim as he holds you under all the rubble of the collapsed building.

Even though he couldn't save the both of you, he wants to make sure the last thing he sees is his wife angelic face.

It's a shitty way to die. The both of you impaled by a metal bar with no way of escaping and an even smaller chance of survival. Yet, but at least he had you with him.

"I couldn't imagine breathing without you, Kats.." you say in cutting breaths as you use all of your remaining strength to hold him close. Smiling weakly, knowing at least you'd go together.

"Good thing we don't have to, princess." Bakugo heaves out, saying your nickname for the last time as he presses his lips onto yours. Taking each other's last breath...

"PA!"

Bakugo wakes up in a jolt as he gets smacked in the face. Sitting up with a teary-eyed face.

He looks and finds the culprit of his stolen slumber, or savior from that horrible nightmare.

"Papa didn't want to wake up, and Mama said to smack you if you didn't." the blonde and crimson eyed little girl says as she scrambles onto the bed and into his lap.

Katsumi looks at her father's face. For a 6 year old, she is very emotionally perceptive. "Is Papa alright?" She says, reaching to touch his face.

Although the grogginess still lingers, he gives her a big and long embrace.

"I'm fine, princess. Your Pops just had a nightmare, is all." He says while giving her a rare genuine smile. Thank fuck it was a dream.

He held her for what seemed like ages, and yet she didn't mind; after all, she was still your daughter too. Her kindness is genetic.

However, it was not long after that the emotional silence was ruined.

"KATSUKI IF YOU DON'T GET YOUR ASS UP," your voice projects from the kitchen as the smell of breakfast lingers. The two blondes share a laugh before getting off the bed.

Bakugo picks Katsumi up in his arms. "Cmon, our queen is waiting." He says while heading towards the kitchen; using his upgraded nickname for you after you had Katsumi.

He never thought he'd end up here, with kids and a loving wife who hasn't gotten tired of him yet.

Even if the dream was different by the two of you not having Katsumi, his heart still warmed that at least you were the thing that didn't change in his life.

Bakugo is so deep into thought about the dream that he didn't notice he arrived at the kitchen. Guess the dream really opened his eyes about the hero work the two of you been doing.

"Kats?" You say concerned at his blank gaze and hold on Kastumi. His attention now back to reality after your voice.

"You alright, honey?" You say while grabbing Katsumi from his arm and placing her in the chair seated next to her infant brother's high chair. Babbling away like infants do.

Before you can even turn back around to him, he attacks you with a hug. You look at your daughter questionably, but she only shrugs and continues to feed her brother.

"You alright there, you big oaf? ...Kats?" You say before turning around and seeing his teary-eyed face.

"Shut up." He says quickly so he can avoid your questioning. You only sigh in defeat and wrap your arms around him, too.

"Do I at least get to know what this is about?" You say as your husband's grasp tightens.

"We should quit."

"What?" You say confused. Things are going well for the two of your careers, even being in the top 3 from time to time. Hell, he just made number 1 last year.

"We should retire our old asses and enjoy our fucking lives til we're grey and wrinkly." He says in a mumble swaying you back and forth.

"Fuck is a bad word papa."

"Katsumi," You scold the child before sighing. "I mean, I'm not opposed to it, but where's this coming from." You question the vulnerable blonder.

"Mm just had a shi- poopy butt dream," he says, trying to make his sentence child friendly, earning a giggle from his daughter and a chuckled from you. Still, you investigate further.

"About?"

"We didn't make it back from a mission. We held each other til the end, but I don't want that for us," He says quietly to avoid the childs prying ear while his grip tightens on you.

You stiffen. Dying during a mission and leaving the kids behind? That thought left a nasty taste in your tongue and an even bigger ache in your heart.

This time you hold him tighter.

"Guess I'll have to tell the commission that I won't be back from maternity leave then." You say, peppering him with kisses. He let's out a sigh of relief. Being glad that you're both on the same page.

"I think I should just leave the agency to Red then. The interns are going to give me so much crap about being old." He chuckles while kissing you back. Yet his hold on you stays.

A comfortable silence lingers for a little.

"Thank you for keeping up with my crap." He says quietly. His vulnerable insecurity of not being good enough for you showing.

"Til I'm grey and wrinkly, Kats." causing him to chuckle. You always knew how to reassure him.

"Til we're gray and wrinkly."

And with no tragic ends in sight.

Doing this instead of the 8 assignments due tomorrow night. 😭

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[whatdoyoumeanimacat]

𝐃𝐈𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐄𝐍𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄, 𝐌𝐘 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐕𝐄, 𝐖𝐇𝐘 𝐃𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐑𝐘?

🫧𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐🫧𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐🫧𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐🫧𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐🫧𓇼𓏲*ੈ

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ 𝚈𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎! 𝙶𝚘𝚓𝚘 𝚂𝚊𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚞 𝚡 𝙵𝚎𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚎 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 - Yandere behavior, Kidnapping, Dead Doves: Do Not Eat, Stockholm syndrome (?), mentions of self harm

Author's note - I disappear once in a while and it's concerning I know but I promise I'm not dead :( (I will ALWAYS come back <3 Y'all so supportive *sobs aggressively and cutely*)

🫧𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐🫧𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐🫧𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐🫧𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐🫧𓇼𓏲*ੈ

𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 more did you want? Why were you so cruel to him when all he wanted was to protect you? To help you? To love you? Was it too much to ask? Just a little love? You knew too well that he wasn't happy like he seemed to be. You read him. You saw through him the instant he met you. You tore the layers of his heart and made your way through in, sitting on the vacant throne. That wasn't supposed to be for a human. It's too dangerous. Oh well. It's too late now, isn't it? You're already buried 10 feet deep in his heart. There's no going back now. Satoru was hurt. He didn't know why your sweet little brain couldn't understand why he captured you and kept you locked up in his basement. Why couldn't you understand that this was for your own good? Or was it? Why couldn't you understand that he did this just for you and he was not being selfish. Oh, how could he be selfish when you gave away your world and understood him? He was used as a weapon. But you looked at him like a small, delicate little flower.

A human.

Maybe that was your biggest mistake. To the point that it made you feel like smashing your head against the hard concrete walls of the basement, he had kept you in. You didn't understand. Why? Why was he doing this? Why was he hurting you so much? Why had he kept you locked up to suffer? Sure, he had kept you locked up in a huge estate with lots and lots of luxuries, and basically everything you could ever want to everything you couldn't even dream of seeing. But that surely didn't excuse the fact that he had kidnapped you. You felt your life fade away before your eyes. Time passed by, days passed by, and you rotted in the basement, the only form of entertainment being the carefully programmed laptop Satoru had got you. Today, was another day of your organs slowly rotting in your body, as you felt your organs sink deep inside you. You mindlessly held the page-down button on the laptop, while Satoru clung to you, refusing to let go as if you'd vanish into thin air if he did so. You heard your stomach rumble, breaking the silence in the air, to which he giggled like a teenage girl staring at her crush. Not one bit was this funny to you. He had starved you for 2 days after you fought to get out of this nightmare of a house. "Awh~ Someone's hungry, huh?" He teased. Your eyes never left the laptop. You couldn't stand him. No. Not one bit. He chuckled at your expressionless face (which wasn't really expressionless. It was more of... numbness.) He chuckled. Of course, he didn't care. You're the idiot here if you think he did. Yet, he spends all of his nights convincing himself that nobody cares like he does.

"C'mon, baby girl. Don't be like that, yeah? I'll getcha some food, mhm? How about then? Will you behave, baby girl?" Oh how much you hated that tone of his. He talked as if he owned the world. Maybe he did. But he certainly did not own you. And that's where you're wrong. "Gimme 15 minutes, yeah? I'll come back with some food, hm?" You felt warmth spread on your lungs when you heard the word 'food'. Almost like a starved, abused dog. Maybe there wasn't much difference between you and a starved, abused dog. Oh, you poor thing. Only if someone was kind enough to pity you just as much as you pitied others. Too bad, too sad. This is not a story and you certainly are not the princess of the story. "Whatever...just get me something to eat." You muttered, your throat dry from dehydration. Oh you'd trade golds and silvers for a drop of water. He chuckled at your impatient tone, he found it cute, even though you’re just hungry and want some food. “Not to worry dear... I’ll be back in 15 minutes, alright? Don’t miss me too much while I’m gone~” You felt a heavy weight lift off your shoulders at the sight of him getting off the bed and leaving the basement. You swore you felt your heart lighten up at the sight of him leaving.

But the gods didn't like you and wanted you to suffer and carry the weight of all the burdens in this world. Satoru came back after what it felt like 2 seconds. “I’m back, baby girl- and I got you food~” He hummed. You felt your heart drown back in when you heard his playful voice. He held a polythene bag, with something inside "What did you buy?" Your voice cracked. You'd die for some water. Just a drop. What did you do to deserve this fate-? No, what did your poor little throat do to deserve such a fate? Being stuck with someone as unlucky as yourself. Oh, that poor thing. He sat back on the bed, beside you while you made an attempt to pull the bag out of his hold, only to fail. "uh-uh." Your lips instantly curled downward. "I'll give ya this, under one condition." Your frown deepened. "What." You questioned coldly. He chuckled at your response, he loved how annoyed and impatient you were. But that was only making Satoru enjoy this much more. “Come on now, don’t be like that.. at least I'm not making you beg- plus, if you want something, you gotta be nice and ask sweetly, no?~” He teased before leaning closer, his expression turned serious “It’s nothing bad, I promise. But, I’m just asking you to fulfill a certain condition.~" You hated that tone. That cocky, know-it-all tone. But your stomach couldn't care less. "What do you want?" You couldn't take it anymore. You were starving. It was all amusing to him, though. He smirked, his voice teasing, "Baby girl, you’re being too impatient right now. If you want it so badly, you gotta give me a kiss~" The visible disgust on your face could've made him laugh his ass off. Again, you felt like you'd die if you didn't have a piece of food on your tongue right now. So you accepted, leaning in and pecking his cheek quickly, noticing the tint of red while you proceeded to grab the bag from his hand, digging in. He chuckled at your sudden excitement for the food, you were clearly starving and it was kinda adorable to him. As if he hasn't starved you for 2 days. “Relax, I haven’t even taken the food out of the bag yet and you're already so eager to dig in” He teased as he began to take out the food from the plastic bag. “I got you some rice n' sushi." He watched with infatuation in his eyes while you gulped down the rice and sushi. You could feel your stomach warm up after you swallowed the first bite. Oh, how heavenly it felt. Nothing could compare to it. Or perhaps, he could. That was the exact feeling he felt whenever he saw you. He felt starved without you. A person dying of thirst regrets every single second he wasted water throughout his life. The first drop of water that quenches his thirst, feels heavenly to him. Again, to the point, he tears up and worships water for the rest of his life. That was the exact emotions he felt towards you. Such strong emotions, no? Well, it isn't wise to feel such extreme emotions towards a human being.

As minutes passed, you eventually finished all the food, completely and utterly full. Satoru leaned back as he spoke. “Are you finally done now, baby girl..?” He chuckled, and a fond smile crept onto his lips. “Took you long enough.. it was honestly kind of amusing to see you eat so fast like you’ve never had food in your life” You felt anger building up in your lungs. How dare this- this imbecile ask you such a question as if he hadn't starved you for two whole days? But you knew better than to start a fight. Yet, this was overwhelming. Tell me, just how much can a little human being tolerate? And for how long can it tolerate? You frown. "Why do you call me 'baby girl'?" You did not like him. He chuckled at your question. He knew you did not like him. "Why else? I’m calling you that because you’re just way too cute and adorable to not give you that nickname. I’m also calling you baby girl because you belong to me. You’re mine."

It enraged you. You were not some tool to be thrown around. You were a human. A kind human. You couldn't accept this from him. Not after being such an angel to him when everyone saw him as a weapon. I scoff. "Go find another woman who's willing, kidnap her, and torture her, let go of me." At this point, you prayed, begged, any god, any angel, any mystery being out there, to make him somehow fall out of love with you and find someone else to bother. Seems like this would start a fight. Time to say bye-bye to food again for a good few days, I guess. “Excuse me?” He spoke, his voice was low and menacing as he leaned closer. He was clearly pissed. “Who do you think you’re talking to, baby girl?” You frown, pissed as well. "Well- why don't you go out and find someone who fucking loves you instead of being a fucking creep and kidnapping someone who-" He cut you off. “No.” He replied firmly “I’d never let you go, baby girl. Not even in your fucking dreams." You let out a 'tsk', turning your head away as this slowly started to get heated. "Do you know how fucking sick you sound??? You are so fucking disgusting! why the fuck don't you leave me alone and find someone fucking else-!??!!" His patience was being tested and his irritation began to grow bigger than before. "Because all of them want my fucking money. They like me because I'm strong, popular, and loved. They all only wanted me for my reputation, something that I can offer them.” He paused “You’re different, you don’t want anything from me other than my love and affection.”

Now that's where he's wrong. You scoff. "GOD DAMN MAN- I don't want anything from you-! I didn't even know you properly before you kidnapped me-! We were JUST friends-! But you forgot. This is his house. His rules. You'd obey whether you like it or not. He looked at you with a dark, cold glare. You were starting to get on his nerves and he could feel the anger rising inside of him, like a storm brewing inside his mind. He was furious with your behavior. “Babygirl.. I’m going to ask this once. Shut. Up. Stop speaking before you say something you’ll regret.” He gritted his teeth, trying to maintain his calm despite his boiling anger. But you knew you were hitting the right points in him. Maybe if you keep this attitude up for a few months he'd get tired and let go of you. Maybe. "OH YEAH-!? Now it's fucking bitter cause it's the truth! You just fucking wanted me because I wrote those pathetic goddamn poems for you TO MAKE YOU FEEL FUCKING BETTER-! I did it as a GOOD fucking FRIEND. If I knew you were such a MANIAC, I wouldn't even have GLANCED at you-!" It's true you were an angel to him. But that's the reason he fell for you. What if you were the same with someone else and they took advantage of it? No. No. He can't bear that. He could never. His heart would bleed to death. His anger was now at its peak, you just kept pushing and pushing and it was only getting bigger and bigger the more you spoke. “SHUT UP-” He snapped, losing his temper and patience “I’VE HAD ENOUGH OF YOUR WHINING AND COMPLAINING!” He had now cornered you. Be careful, this is Satoru Gojo, the strongest jujutsu sorcerer.

He trapped you between him and the wall behind your back. “I don’t want to hear you talk like that again, do you understand me?” He spoke with a stern tone “I don’t want to hear another word from your mouth about me letting you go." But you can't stop there. You can't lose this time. Losing gets tiring after some time. And you start to get desperate. You were starting to get desperate too. "I just was fucking go home-! Get out of your mind-! You're a fucking CREEP-!" He leaned down closer to your face, his voice raising, anger clear in his voice. “Did you not hear me?” He spoke through gritted teeth “Stop speaking. You keep saying things that are getting on my nerves and pissing me off.” What a nightmare. The proximity probably scared you. I mean, it's Satoru Gojo. He scares everyone. He's a weapon, after all. You instinctively squeeze your eyes shut, turning your face away. Your lips quivered as you managed to utter out some words, "I wish I never met you." Once again, what a nightmare.

He paused for a moment, his anger slowly fading as he watched tears stream silently down your face. Despite his boiling anger being replaced by a throb in his chest. “What?” He muttered, his voice no longer sharp and aggressive “What’d you say, babygirl..?” Oops! You've made his heart bleed. Not like it's your first time doing this, so I guess it'll be fine. But hey-! The guilt will swallow you alive, though! He looked down at you, studying your expression and watching your tear-stained face. He stared at you for a moment before he slowly spoke again, his voice now soft and gentle “Did you.. say you wish you’d never met me..?” The numbness in his voice was clear, he sounded like he couldn’t believe what he had just heard from you. Satoru loosened and stumbled back a few steps. He continued to study your face, his heart feeling a little heavy when he saw how fearful and afraid you looked. He couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt deep within him, seeing you this terrified of him. “You… you really hate me that much, huh?” He muttered quietly, his voice sounding sad and almost… hurt. He continued to stare down at you, his eyes looking into yours with a mixture of sadness and hurt. Despite the anger he had felt before, he suddenly felt a wave of a different kind of pain in his heart. He couldn’t lie, hearing you say that you never wanted to meet him hurt him more than he thought it would. For the first time, Satoru felt an intense feeling of sadness that he hadn’t felt before. He was conflicted at the moment; he knew he was supposed to get angry at your words, but seeing how frightened you were and hearing the way you spoke of him filled him with a sense of guilt and remorse. He sat in silence for a moment, contemplating his thoughts before he slowly spoke again, his voice soft and quiet. Despite trying to maintain his composure, there was a hint of vulnerability in his tone, “Is.. is that really how you feel?” He asked, his voice almost shaky “That you wish you never met me..?” Your silence stabbed his heart. He's a hundred percent sure even if he had his infinity on, he'd still feel it. No one had ever even laid a finger on him, except you, perhaps. This was his first time. We all have first times, no? He could tell you weren’t going to answer his question, judging by your silence and lack of response. Deep down, he knew what answer was, but he still desperately wanted to hear it from you directly “Please…. Please just tell me if that’s how you really feel..” His heart ached as he spoke, the vulnerability in his tone becoming more obvious.

"Yes."

His heart felt like it shattered into shards when he heard your response. Even though he expected it, the truth being said out loud still felt like a sucker punch to the gut. His eyes dropped down, he couldn’t bring himself to meet your eye contact anymore. For the first time in a long time, Satoru felt a deep, sharp pain in his heart. He tried to keep his composure, but he felt like his walls were slowly crumbling down around him. Oh, how he drowned in his emotions. It felt as if a glass of boiling hot acid was poured on top of his delicate, feeble little heart. He protected everyone. Everyone and anyone. Known and strangers. Why wasn't there even a small ant to protect him? Why him? Why? His world shattered as he walked out. Oh how the poor little weapon of a heart cried in his ribs. It bled and cried and sobbed to be held by you, to hear your comforting voice, soothing voice, to tell it that you didn't mean it. Oh how that poor thing begged the brain to wake up, except, this wasn't even a dream to begin with. What did this poor little thing do to deserve such misery? Oh the poor little thing. But. Guilt is a monster. Satoru lay on his back on the bed, looking up at the ceiling with his arms folded behind his head. He hadn’t spoken to you for the past few hours, not a single word from him. He sat in complete silence, lost deep inside his thoughts. It had been so quiet the entire time that the only sounds that filled the room were his breathing and the ticking of the clock on the wall. The silence engulfed the room until he heard some creakings in the basement. Oh right. You were there, in the basement. His angel was there in the basement.

He sat up immediately, his ears perking up when he heard the noise coming from the room you were kept in. It was the first sound he had heard in hours, and he was curious to see what it was. Satoru swung his legs off the bed and stood up, walking over to the door of the room he had kept you in. He peeped in. He had chained you. He found you chained, staring out of the tiny window, moonlight falling on your face. Moonlight falling on your angelic face. Oh what a sight to soothe his sore, bleeding heart. You were singing a song. Your favorite. "Did you get enough love, my little dove, why do you cry?~ And I'm sorry I left, but it was for the best, though it never felt right~ My Little Versailles~" The sound of your beautiful voice coming from the room caught him off guard, making him freeze for a brief moment. He stood in front of the door and listened quietly to your singing, feeling a pang in his heart when he heard the lyrics of the song. Little did he know, you weren't singing. This was the voice of guilt. The guilt took over your throat as you struggled to voice it out, in the form of music. "The hospital asked should the body be cast~ Before I say goodbye, my star in the sky~ Such a funny thought to wrap you up in cloth, Do you find it all right, my dragonfly?~ Shall we look at the moon, my little loon~ Why do you cry?~ Make the most of your life, while it is rife~ While it is light~ We're all gonna die~" Maybe the guilt tortured you just as much as his heart tortured him. Maybe you were really upset for saying those things to him. What a silly being you are. Being sorry for hurting my kidnapper's feelings. The person who tortured me. Maybe that's why he fell for you. Maybe that's why, you actually are an angel. His shoulders slumped as he listened to you sing the lyrics of the song. He could almost feel the sadness and hurt in your voice, and even though he knew he should be mad and upset at you for saying that you wished you had never met him, he couldn’t bring himself to feel that anymore. All he felt now was a mixture of guilt and sadness, as he thought about the pain he had caused you. He leaned against the door frame, still listening to your voice fill the room.

"Sitting at the bed with the halo at your head Was it all a disguise, like Junior High Where everything was fiction, future, and prediction Now, where am I? My fading supply~" Hearing the words about being in 'disguise' in the song seemed to hit Satoru harder. It was almost as if the song spoke to his heart, bringing forth the feelings of guilt and remorse that he had buried deep within him. It was perhaps what you knew about him. He hid his real feelings behind a happy, playful, flirty, and teasing facade. But, how long will a facade really last? With his eyes closed and his head leaned back, he listened to every word you sang, his heart growing heavier with each passing line. "Did you get enough love, my little dove Why do you cry? And I'm sorry I left, but it was for the best Though it never felt right My little Versailles" His mind kept replaying the same words of the song over and over again, and he couldn’t stop himself from feeling the pang in his heart each time he heard those lines. He continued to lean against the door frame, his heart feeling like it was being squeezed by an invisible hand. He knew he should walk into the room and confront you for how you felt, but he found himself unable to move, stuck in his place as he listened to you sing. "Shall we look at the moon, my little loon Why do you cry? Make the most of your life, while it is rife, While it is light" As he continued to listen to your beautiful, sad voice singing the lyrics of the song, the guilt and remorse inside of Satoru continued to grow like shadows in the back of his mind. The words of the song seemed to hit him harder and harder, making him feel a sense of pain and suffering that he had never felt before. Despite how he appeared to others, he had deep feelings that he hid inside, and hearing the song seemed to make them all burst to the surface all at once.

"We're all gonna die"

That last line of the song truly felt like it stabbed him straight through the heart. It was like a dagger being plunged into his chest when he heard the words spoken so sadly from your voice. Satoru gritted his teeth as he continued to lean against the door frame, his mind filled with a chaotic mixture of emotions that refused to die down.

"We're all gonna die."

He couldn’t take it anymore. The words echoed like a mantra in his head, making the feeling in his heart even worse. Without thinking, Satoru pushed himself off the doorframe and pushed the door open, stepping into the room to face you. His eyes were slightly wide as he looked at you, noticing the expression on your face. He walked up to you until he was standing right in front of you, towering over your figure. Despite trying to maintain a calm exterior, his heart was beating faster and his mind was racing with a mixture of feelings and thoughts. Satoru stared at you, trying to figure out what to say. For the first time, he felt completely speechless. The normally confident and composed man was now standing in front of you completely silent, his mind still reeling back from the words of the song and the pain in your voice. Perhaps his presence killed your guilt a little. You stood there, internally panicking. "I-I-....a-aren't you asleep yet...?" Satoru’s intense gaze focused on yours as you looked up at him. He was silent for a moment before he spoke, his voice deep and calm, but with a hint of melancholy in his tone “No. I wasn’t able to sleep.” He continued to look down at you, looking into your eyes, studying your expression. He could tell you were panicking, but he didn’t seem to care about that at the moment. Now this was awkward. You didn't know what to say or do. What was up with this guy...? Wait- that's right! What's up-! Wonderful. You nod, looking away. "What's...up?" Satoru continued to stare down at you as you muttered, his intense eyes still fixed on yours. He could feel a strange tension in the air, and he knew he needed to confront you about what he had heard "I heard you singing in here.” His voice was calm and steady, but there was an undertone of sadness and vulnerability in his tone. He stepped closer to you, closing the small gap between you and him. ”The words... you... said." His voice grew softer as he continued to look down at you, his eyes focused on yours. "Did you mean it?" What a weird question. Doesn't everybody sing just because they like the song?? We're not Disney characters, hey. But, just maybe. Maybe you meant that. Who knows. I for sure don't. "I....guess." You mutter. The tension in the air was thick. Satoru’s heart squeezed in his chest when he heard your response. His expression remained serious, but the sadness in his eyes grew a little bit stronger. “You guess?” He repeated the words you said quietly, his voice tinged with a hint of disappointment. “That’s not a yes or no answer.” Oh, come on. You sure were kind. You are kind. Your heart would squeeze at the thought of even giving someone a dirty look, let alone hurt them. What a sweet being you were. Guilt loves to engulf such sweetness. You tear up, frustration clear on your face. "Yes. I meant that. I meant the things I said. I couldn't say it to your face, but I thought the stuffs I said earlier had a huge impact on you. It hurts me. I couldn't bear to hurt anyone. To hurt you. Not after I gave all of my love to you. Not after I dedicated the life of my heart to shower you the love nobody ever showed you with." No wonder why he fell for me, to the point of obsession and beyond.

Satoru listened to what you said, his heart clenching at the pain and hurt in your voice. He was silent for a moment before he spoke again, his voice cracking a little as he tried to hold back his own emotions. “I… I knew you meant it when you said those things. I just wanted to hear you say it out loud.” He took a deep breath, his expression still serious despite the sadness in his eyes. "I've been causing you pain...haven't I?" Oh the poor little child. The poor being went through so much, you could tear up. Oh how much it's heart ached. You could feel it. It's a curse. Or, maybe, it's a blessing. Maybe. You slowly opened your arms. "Do you...wanna cry...?" Satoru couldn’t believe what he was hearing. The sight of you opening your arms, offering him comfort, was something he had never expected. His expression softened at the words you said to him, and he felt a wave of emotions welling up inside of him. “I…..” For the first time, tears welled up in his eyes, threatening to spill out. He let out a shaky breath, trying to keep his composure. Seeing you offer him a place to feel vulnerable and emotional was something he never knew he needed so badly. You nod slowly, opening your arms. Oh, that soft look of kindness in your eyes squeezes his heart so tight. Without saying anything else, Satoru moved quickly and crouched down in front of you, wrapping his arms around your small figure. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, his body shaking slightly as he held onto you tightly. Despite how powerful and strong he was, at that moment, he just couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. You wrap your arms around him, your abductor. You gently pat his hands, feeling the guilt die down slowly, little by little in your heart, leaving your veins, even though it wasn't even supposed to be there in the first place. The guilt should've never formed. Satoru continued to hold onto you tightly, clutching onto you as if his life depended on it. He couldn’t hold back the tears that streamed down his face as he buried his face against your chest, letting out quiet, shaky sobs. Your hand running through his hair and rubbing his back only made him cry harder, as he realized just how much he had been hurting you.

"Shall we look at the moon,

my little loon,

why do you cry~?

did you get enough love~

my little dove~

why do you cry~?

We're all gonna die."

Satoru clutched onto you tighter, his arms wrapped around your waist and his head buried against your chest. He couldn’t control the tears that streamed down his face and soaked your clothes, his body shaking slightly as he took deep, shaky breaths. Satoru felt a wave of emotion wash over him, and in that moment, he knew he had completely fallen for you. As if he didn't already know. Satoru continued to sob quietly into your chest, his body trembling slightly as he held onto you tightly. He couldn’t believe how much he was crying, how much pain he was feeling, and how completely vulnerable he was in this moment. But at the same time, he couldn’t have cared less, as he leaned into your touch and let your comfort wash over him. “Please…” He spoke in a hoarse, shaky voice, his grip on you not loosening at all. “Please, don’t ever say that you wish you had never met me again…” He sobbed, and sobbed. The words that left his throat made your eyes well up with tears.

Why were you such a cruel being to a child?

You're just like your mother.

You stared at him with agonizing pain, unable to express any of it. But, what he did was wrong too, no? What he did was bad. Nothing could, and nothing would justify it. For god's sake, He's a child. What good does a child know? A child finds something it loves, and wishes to be with it. What is the child's fault? Is it so wrong to wish for something? What is right? What is wrong? You are wrong. The poor child wishes for some comfort, for some love. It's not like it chose to be born here. It knows nothing. The poor little thing needs someone to hold onto, who will show them the right way, who will show them love, kindness, patience. You were oh, so kind to every one of them who just took advantage of it. Why can't you be a little more considerate towards someone who just wants some love? You didn't know what was correct, what was incorrect. And if I'm being honest, I don't either. Why does it matter, though? At the end of the day, At the end of the time,

𝐖𝐞'𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐝𝐢𝐞.

🫧𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐🫧𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐🫧𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐🫧𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐🫧𓇼𓏲*ੈ

{ꜰᴏᴜʀᴛʜ ᴏꜰ ᴊᴜʟʏ} {ꜱᴏɴɢ ʙʏ ꜱᴜꜰᴊᴀɴ ꜱᴛᴇᴠᴇɴꜱ}

𝙱𝙾𝙽𝚄𝚂+! 𝙱𝙰𝙽𝙽𝙴𝚁

© ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ꜱᴛᴇᴀʟ ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴏʀ ɪ'ʟʟ ᴘɪꜱꜱ ɪɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴍᴏᴜᴛʜ >:(

[thinkingofausername]

Micah Bell headcanons:

He's only ever seen sleeping after he's gotten drunk so I imagine he has nightmares (aside from the fact he has extreme trust issues and can't let his guard down enough to sleep)

He didn't have a relationship with his mother or she died when he was little or she was abused by her husband. He never mentions her, we don't know anything about her. We know what his view on women is like. I imagine he got it from his father. He definitely wasn't born out of love

He took the majority of his father's wrath. We know firstborn Bells are traditionally named the same, so I believe there was a lot of pressure there

He's actually not all that cynical. He wants to be. All that talk of "nothing matters" is him trying to convince himself

He secretly wants companionship. It's been confirmed that he wanted Dutch to be a part of some sort of family of his. I don't think he's as much of a lone wolf as he wishes he was

He has abandonement issues. His brother left him and made another family and it affected Micah. It's seen in the fact he wrote to Amos as well as his behavior after his brother's answer. After Amos cuts ties with him for good he says "I want tomorrow to mean more than today. I want this whole damn shitshow to have some kinda meanin I haven't understood". He secretly resented his brother for doing what he never could - make a connection. He can only talk to people if he's riling them up

His father definitely forced him to perform his first kill. Probably when he was very young, so he would "toughen up"

In theory, I can see him having a somewhat good relationship. If his partner was tough they would have his respect. Trust would definitely take a while, vulnerability even more so, but I think he would show care in his own way - being posessive and protective, letting them handle his guns and horse (peak trust). We know how much he cares for his belongings. There would probably be passionate, adrenaline-filled sex after action, patching up wounds, cleaning guns together. A "partners in crime" sort of thing

He'd probably like bites and scratches during sex. Marking up his partner as well

He gave into the "hardened outlaw" life because he believes those are the cards he was dealt and the only ones he would ever have. He probably never thought he had a chance to be anything else

He definitely has a phobia of dogs or something similar. He very avidly reacted to Cain every time he got close, he even flinched one time

He genuinely laughed with Javier when they were drunk. He even said "I love you fellas". There was definitely a humane side of him, very deep down

His father never held any pride for him, god forbid praise. He craves hostility because it's the only thing he knows. He purposefully riles people up and laughs off every insult he receives

He obviously held genuine respect and admiration for Dutch. He wasn't just using him or manipulating him or buttering him up for betrayal. I genuinely believe he was looking for a place of his own. He never really showed an authoritative side or desire to lead. He said it himself that he's a survivor. It wasn't ambition, it was just searching for shelter and stability. That's why he ratted - the stability was gone

He died miserable. I could go on and on about his death but the main points are - he calmly accepted getting shot, he shrugged and silently fell to his death. That was not a man who saw a future for himself

I left the most biased headcanon for the end. Not to be the "I can fix him" girl but I genuinely believe a softer side of him could've been drawn out. I believe he could've had a "ride or die" person of his own. Two survivors, watching each other's back, suspicious of others but not each other, enjoying the uncertainty and freedom of life, two loose ends but tied together

[batsplat]

casey also talks about sepang 2015 what do you think of that

oh in that podcast? uh... lemme listen again...

yeah idk it's not really anything new I'd say? he's said basically all the same stuff in more interesting and extensive ways elsewhere. I think casey inevitably has a very 'well feuding is bad and helps nobody' point of view, has expressed that before in the past, does it here again, and he's also drawn a parallel between himself and marc on several occasions. which... well, of course there's similarities in terms of public discourse or whatever, but the parallel really falls apart whenever casey argues the feuds cost valentino. like, I do think it's sometimes important to just. keep in mind. it's interesting that casey draws this comparison in his mind but that doesn't necessarily means he's right about this. I'm not sure how you'd argue that starting a feud with casey cost valentino anything competitively? you can argue it didn't help him I guess, and then we can have a debate about the ins and outs of the 2008 season. we can also have an argument that in a hypothetical world where casey isn't ill in 2009, valentino doesn't break his leg and casey isn't on a piece of junk in 2010, and valentino isn't on a piece of junk in 2011-12, then actually maybe valentino sparking open animosity with casey COULD have cost him. but we don't know that! didn't happen! I wish we could have found out, but we never got the chance! as it stands, the tally on this is pretty straightforward: casey won the title when things were reasonably civil between them in 2007, and valentino took control of the following season at the exact moment he worsened the relationship between the pair of them in 2008. obviously, it's all more complicated than that and casey would of course argue laguna didn't negatively affect his subsequent performances... but it certainly didn't help them. like, at the very worst valentino escalating tensions in 2008 is a complete net neutral. after 2009, them being bitchy to each other every other tuesday was completely competitively irrelevant beyond maybe affecting how they approached occasionally fighting for a podium position. hey, maybe casey used that feud to fire himself up through sheer spite throughout the later stages of his career, but that doesn't actually support his anti-feud stance - it's basically the exact same thing as what valentino does. they're both quite similar in that regard! always so hungry to prove a point, to show how someone else is wrong. kinda half the point with this feuding business is to get yourself going, get yourself motivated, yeah. he straight up openly admits to using yamaha's repeat rejection of him as a way of giving himself motivation, and at the end of the day that's really not all that different?

anyway, what else does casey say... oh yeah, that him and the other aliens were already kinda prepared for this and had learned vale's tricks. that valentino had only been able to get into the minds of the previous generation. welllllll *wiggles hand* sure, I mean, he did clearly have to change his approach... he couldn't just use the exact same playbook to get to them, either on-track or off-track. but that's why he did change up the playbook... again, whether you want to believe valentino won his final two titles 'in the head' rather than just through pure pace kinda depends on how you assess the evidence, but it is at the very least a debate. and, y'know, it's always worth remembering that valentino's most important mind games with casey didn't happen in a press conference... it was on the track. and the on-track stuff really is just embedded in how valentino approaches winning. speaking of aliens, this is what dani and jorge have said:

like, valentino's entire approach to his riding, even to the way he's setting his bike up, is deliberately about directly fucking with you... he's not actually always trying to be faster than you as much as he's trying to give himself the tools to make your life miserable, to pressure you into mistakes, etc etc... and again, especially with casey (if anything because he was so mentally sturdy), the off-track stuff was really just window dressing. (I know they bicker a lot after 2009 but it's just so fundamentally irrelevant to actual on-track competition.) so you can be aware of those tricks, but it also doesn't necessarily help you when someone's being nasty to you on-track in a way you just fully do not enjoy. which is what it was like for casey! for casey, a lot of this comes back to the truly unpleasant context of how he was perceived by the public, how he was treated as mentally weak or 'broken' or whatever partly because he had the misfortune of coming up against a bloke who had the reputation for breaking rivals. I think it's quite natural to end up with a bit of a hardliner 'actually I've never been mentally affected by a result in my life' stance - and of course casey is a lot tougher than a lot of people give him credit for. that being said. sometimes your rivals affect you, shit happens, it's part of the game. it's fundamentally a nice idea to think that valentino's tactics weren't just morally wrong but also ineffective, which is kind of the appeal of this narrative, right? you want to believe you're above that, you want to believe you were adequately prepared and wise to valentino's tactic. it's unsurprising and understandable that casey does tend to tell the story that way, but again it's *wiggles hand* also hard to describe it as completely factual

uh. what else. oh I'm thrilled casey does canonically know valentino and marc were friends, he has said he wasn't following motogp too much during that time period so you couldn't be sure of that. does this mean anything? does it tell you anything? well, no, but it's just a pleasing thought to me. I like that. oh also 'provoking particularly aggressive riders isn't a good idea' is kinda a funny take from casey? like, he of all people would hate the idea of being cowed by someone's reputation like that... casey's right that provoking fast riders can potentially be dangerous, but y'know I do think that's probably not news to anyone almost nine years later. um. that's all I've got I think

[thursdayg1rl]

ok omg im back from the concert

[coconutdays]

going crazy

s. your boyfriend, handsome and secure suguru geto, doesn't get jealous

w.c. 4.8k

w. fem! reader, biker!geto! x reader , fluff!, smut!

a/n: based on my seat taker biker!geto au! also I feel this does not live up to seat taker! but I tried my best! so I hope you can still enjoy! likes reblogs and comments r always appreciated to know y’all liked it!!!

your boyfriend does not have a single jealous bone in his body. it’s convenient you suppose?

you’ve heard nightmares of insecure men who have to know where there girlfriends are every second of every hour, the direction they’re even going to utter a breath in. the occasional story of a girl who can’t speak to any men whatsoever because her boyfriend will berate her for doing so. 

although you do always keep suguru in the loop about what you’re doing and don’t really talk to guys because at the end of the day, more often than not, they always do not plan on just being your friend, he never expected those things out of you. It was a silent form of showing your respect for him. and he did the same out of instinct too, first too. 

but aside from that, he doesn’t show any jealousy.

there was a time he even tried to set you up with toji zenin when he was still crushing on you. 

your boyfriend is a little peculiar, you’re very well aware of that, but you find his confidence in himself sexy. because you couldn’t look anywhere else if you wanted to. he was handsome, his face chiseled so prettily it was painful. his smooth voice that always had you reeling to get him to talk more. and his spine tattoo that always made you blush at the sight of it befriending your scratch marks after a particularly rough night, 

so you don’t care about the way you dress, because he won’t control what you wear. in fact, it’s one of the things you both love about each other, a recent discovery now that you’ve been dating for a month. suguru is an avid fan of the way you dress, relishing in what new outfit he’ll see you in whenever he sees you that day, and if not possible, asking for a picture. and you love how he loves it. appreciating the fact that he loves when you wear booby shirts to campus or dates with him or particularly tight jeans that attract eyes aside from his, but are worn for the sole purpose of serving cunt–and riling your boyfriend up.

it all comes together to why you wear the dress you do tonight to go clubbing with him and some friends. it’s honestly the hottest thing suguru will have seen you in so far. yes, your previous halloween costumes were something alright, but this…was different. halloween was like a month ago and the outfits for those events were meant to be slutty, purely slutty. this look was meticulously planned by you the moment you ordered the dress online. the sheer dress and its sparkles had been running across your mind that entire week of shipping with the perfect sultry way you planned to do your hair and makeup. 

you 

hey can we carpool later tonight, my dress isnt motorcycle proof :/

suguru

sure princess.  can i get a peek?

you

don’t feel like it hehe wait for it sugu <3

suguru

tease

any other time, he would’ve more than likely have gotten his peek at your outfit, you are weak to his demands naturally, but this was something he genuinely would have to wait for. pictures would not do you justice and you wanted to catch your boyfriends raw reaction when he saw the look for the first time . 

and you were right.

when he went up to your apartment to pick you up and you opened the door, the reaction was worth the wait. the constant warmth your boyfriend’s gaze always held fell the moment his eyes landed on you and took a moment to breathe you in. 

you saw his pupils dart to your cleavage first, staring for a hard second, then to the tightness against your waist and hips bringing attention to your figure. the small quirk of his eyebrow seconds within that let you know he spotted the thong hugging your body under the sheer dress. he did a once over of your legs, looking at what shoes you were wearing, before he brought his eyes up to look at your face again.

he doesn’t say anything, instantly moving forward and getting rid of the space between the both of you to take your head in his hands and plant his lips on yours. you press a hand against his chest when you feel him swipe his tongue across the top of your mouth so hungrily. 

“you’re going to kiss off my lipgloss sugu.” you giggle, heaving a little as you press your forehead against his, blinking up happily at him. 

his stare is firm as his blown up pupils stare back into you, “sorry pretty girl, couldn’t help myself.”

“and why’s that hm?” you bite your lip through your smile, eagerly waiting for his answer, still forehead to forehead with him, his hands still holding you in place.

his hair is in that half up half down duo you go so feral for, you realize this detail when he says, “you know why.”

“no I don’t,” you drag on, a teasing lilt in your voice

“because,” he drags one of his hands down to caress your neck softly with his thumb, you can see a slight crease in his eyelids at your playfulness, “my girlfriend is trying to get away with first degree murder right now.”

“you like the dress?” you give him a toothy smile and you can slightly catch his gaze turn hungry at the sight of it

suguru suddenly raises you up by clasping his arms behind you, below your butt and on your thigh, so you’re above him when he looks at you lovingly, “like is an understatement.”

“well i like your hair today,” you compliment him, still giggly

“yeah?” he smiles, “i’m glad.”

it’s your first time ever going to the club with suguru, so there’s some sort of powerful feeling lingering when you enter the loud building holding hands with him. you’re going in belonging to someone and so is he, as opposed to other people going in and hoping to catch a body tonight or at least a good grind on the dancefloor–satoru cough cough.

the white haired maniac’s influence gets all of you a vip table with liquor already waiting for you and when you get there, suguru sits and plants you on his lap, arms loosely wrapped around your waist.

It’s when you look forward, you see toji zenin give you a quick once over from where he’s seated near satoru. and you ignore it, you always do. he’s never made an advance on you ever since you and suguru became a thing, he’s respectful of the relationship, but his eyes can never lie, he’s into you. it’s why you’ve never uttered a word to him and why he doesn’t either. and you can’t really blame him if the purpose of tonight's look was to turn all heads, not just your boyfriend’s.

“you smell good baby,” suguru mutters into your ear as he brushes a hair away from your face, “are you using the perfume i got you?”

you wrap your arms around his shoulders when you respond with a nod of your head and, “yeah. I finally ran out of my old one.”

“good girl.” he smiles appreciatively before placing a tender kiss on your neck

the softness of it makes you giggle a little and crane your neck a little, suguru pinches your side to tease you for it. 

it’s when a certain lullaby of a song comes on that your ears perk up and your boyfriend observes the reaction, looking up at you and rubbing circles into your waist, “what’s up baby?”

within an instant all the girls at your table begin to get up and rush to the dance floor and you turn to suguru, already starting to unwrap his arms from your waist.

“i have to go dance this babe,” you say hurriedly, like a little kid leaving their mom the moment they see the bouncy castle go up.

suguru can say nothing before he watches you run off to join the other girls on the dance floor, eyebrows raised in amusement at your antics then in reaction to your immediate inclination to start dancing. 

you look pretty, he thinks as he reaches over to serve himself a glass of whiskey. 

and he continues to think it as he ‘talks’ to his friends, nodding and giving small mhms when all he’s really doing is watching you live it up at the center of the club. 

you’re ethereal, the only star in that murky puddle of bodies. maybe your dress is part of the reason for all that shine and glow you’re giving off, but nothing beats the pretty little smile on your face that says you’re having a good time. it’s turning him on to be honest. he always wants to shove himself inside of you when you bear that toothy smile at him. 

and other people think the same, he notes. 

he’s always seen the stares, he knows you’re a sight to behold. there hasn’t been a day where he isn’t aware that so many other people want you. he knew it when you were merely the smart, hot girl he had a crush on his lit class, with so many other guys obviously paying a little more attention when it was your turn to speak, and he knows it even more now with your male following on social media and the way he constantly gets sized up just for being next to you. for fuck's sake he's heard toji zenin talk about how bad you are before he knew about your thing with suguru at the halloween party, hell, he still catches the frat president unable to control the way his eyes eat you up when you're near.

“done already?” satoru asks haughtily when he sees all of the girls that went to dance come back heaving a little

it’s been an hour since they all left at the start of that first song.

“y/n’s still there though,” one of them breathes, taking satoru’s drink from him, “she does not stop.”

“yeah, she doesn’t,” suguru laughs a little, looking back at you, still as energetic as when you first got there.

fuck, you're beautiful.

speaking of before,

he’s painfully more aware of it when he notices the number of eyes gravitating towards you from the dancefloor, tables, and the bar.

it’s like a bunny in a room full of wolves. or those scenes where scooby and shaggy are in a dark room and a thousand red eyes pop up to blink at them. the eyes to you ratio is beginning to get a little mind boggling now that he sees it in a real life setting. this is not the handful of guys checking you out when you go to the library with him or the nth guy staring at you when you walk past with your boyfriend next to you. this is a huge club with you in the middle and catching the eye of almost every guy in here, most of whom come to this place with plans of taking a girl home or putting moves on her. 

the thought manifests itself when a blonde frat bro walks up to you and tries to dance with you. suguru’s heart stops a little for some reason. he’s seen guys come up to you before, actually talking to you and trying to get your number, so he shouldn’t feel this irked when he knows the guy is going to be disappointed by your answer. he actually wants to go up to the guy and beat his face in.

the surge of pride that courses through his body is immense when he sees you put a hand between you and the guy and you make an annoyed face, all before strutting off and making your way back to the table. 

he manspreads a little more for you to sit between his legs, draping one arm on your thigh, the other holding onto his whiskey.

“a guy tried to dance with me,” you huff when you sit down, reaching for suguru’s drink, which he hands over without a second thought, now using the other free hand to fully hug you.

“I saw,” he says, perching his chin your shoulder, watching as you take a sip of the whiskey and cradle the cup in your hands.

“dance with me,” you turn to look at him and pout, “i don’t want guys coming up to me.”

“but you look so good rejecting them.” suguru teases, smirking a little at you

when your face deapans, he laughs and hugs you tighter, “we’ll go in a bit. rest your pretty feet for a second, don’t want them to tire out.”

“okay,” you slump into his hold, pouting

and suguru did keep his promise, like always. he took you dancing after a few minutes of rest and letting you drink the rest of his whiskey.

he protected you from any other guys trying to come up to you, evident in the way no guys even dared get close from a ten feet radius.

he kept you close and let you dance with him, hands appreciatively holding onto you when you pressed your body against his. it was much different to the dancing from that first time at satoru’s party, he was really holding onto you this time. his hands always found your ass, your hips, even the underside of your boobs during every second of every song.

and suguru isn’t a jealous guy, so it was a little weird to you when you saw him notice a guy oogling you and he immediately pulled you in to makeout with him on the dancefloor. it was unlike any other makeout session you had ever had with him before. he was gripping your ass while his other hand held your neck, that wasn’t new, he always did that, but his energy about it was so…all consuming. 

all you know, is that instantly had you horny and you couldn’t help the mewl you let out after he squeezed you in his hold.

“let’s go,” he spoke a bit tensely into your ear so you could hear him past the music.

and you were never one to go against him because everything suguru did always made sense and worked for you, so you nodded mindlessly and said, “okay.”

when you got to suguru’s apartment, he immediately pushed you against the door and resumed the makeout session he had started at the club. one of his hands was planted against the door while the other roughly gripped your waist to keep you close to him. 

“If you ever see toji, i want you to run the other direction,” he spoke ominously against your lips

the command had you furrowing your eyebrows, you mean of course yes you'd do that, but you never would’ve thought he’d ask it from you. he never really cared to address your actions when it came towards other guys. suguru wasn’t ever jealous…nonetheless, you agree meekly, taken aback by his roughness, “okay.”

all your boyfriend did in response was let out a gruff sound of acknowledgement before pressing his body further against yours and beginning to tug your dress off. he started by pushing down the straps, then pushing the upper half down, including your strapless bra until your tits popped out. 

he pushed both of them together the moment they peeked out and then let a glob of spit drop down onto one of your nipples rather obscenely before he went down to mouth at that same breast. it had you keening, you could feel your thong becoming nonexistent with the way you were starting to drench through it.

a bite from suguru had you squeaking before he continued his ministrations on your other breast while his hands worked on pushing the rest of your dress all the way down, even your thong since it caught onto the tight material of the dress.

you were left completely naked in front of him now and he manhandled you by suddenly picking you up and pinning you against the wall next to the door. he let one hand hold one of your legs to his waist, while the other went under and quickly swiped a finger across your folds with ease due to the wetness

“so easy baby,” he muttered against your lips before plunging a finger all the way in and curving it upwards

“you’re being mean,” you complain, feeling completely flustered at his brash actions

“what’s so mean about making you feel good hm?” he leans back to get a good look at you when he plunges another finger in and starts to push them in and out quickly, watching as your eyebrows knit and you start to mewl, “atta girl.”

“nothing,” you mumble, brainless as you wrap your arms around his neck and hook him in closer with your legs, “ow!”

he started adding a third finger when he felt like you were starting to open up more, however your small complaint started dying into a moan when he increased his pace with the third finger. 

“that’s a lot sugu,” you heave through delirious breaths, flustered at the fact that he was staring so intensely at how you were sucking him in

your comment had him finally looking up at you and you dont know if you’d rather he go back to staring at your pussy, because he was giving that same intense stare to you now. the all heavy pressure of his gaze was entirely being directed at your own eyes now, and how could you meet that same gaze equally when he was three fingers into you and making you moan like a slut.

suguru might have granted you a quick mercy when he leaned against you, quickening the pace of his fingers so you could get louder, and breathed into your ear, muttering lowly, “my cock’s a lot more than three fingers but you always cream all over it.”

the dirty sentence has you pulling suguru closer to you, and trying to trap him where he was so you wouldn’t have to look at him in the flustered state he put you in. but your boyfriend didn’t have it, forcing himself out of your grip, and craning his neck back to go back to looking at you.

he pulled out all three of fingers just to land a sharp slap across your pussy before plunging all of them into you again, “let me watch you baby. be good for me, okay?”

he honestly expects you to be able to answer him when three of his very large fingers are stretching you wide open and curling on that one spot that always has you crumbling, you know he expects you to because he turns his head a little when you don’t answer and lands another slap before going back to fingering you.

“speak up princess,” he orders so easily and so sweetly, like he’s not torturing your body right now

and you do your best to force the words out of you, legs quivering and resisting the urge to writhe in his grasp when you gasp, “ok–okay.”

“good girl,” he almost groans with a snarl as he suddenly stops fingering you open and hoists you over his shoulder, a squeal leaves your mouth at the action.

he’s walking you both to his bedroom, you notice from the path of his hallway made out from your view, and the realization doesn’t last long before suguru brings you down again, then pushes you down and bends you over his bed. he lands a slap to your ass and you can makeout the rustle of him getting naked when he says softly, “grab the pillows and put them under your stomach angel.”

and you listen, reaching easily for both of his large and fluffy pillows, and putting them under your abdomen.

you feel suguru’s heavy length press against your ass and bare pussy when he presses up against you, gripping onto the crease between your thighs and ass, and starts mouthing hot and heavy kisses across your spine. you whine a complaint at the fact that you feel so good, but you know you could feel so much better if he just put it in already.

“what?” suguru notices the pitch that you always make when you’re complaining, continuing his line of affection down your spine

“put it in,” you pout, wiggling your ass for emphasis and hissing a little when you feel his cock graze your lips at the action

suguru gives a last kiss to the bottom of your spine before coming back up and grabbing a fistful of your hair and bringing your head up so he could look at you, “how bad do you want it?”

“really bad sugu.” you mewl, feeling gratification from the sting of his hold on you

“you want me to fill up your little hole? even when we both know you’re gonna start crying that it’s beating your pussy up, yeah?” he questions cruelly 

“mhm,” you nod pathetically, “even if i do.”

his lips twitch a little at your admission and he yanks on your hair a little harder when he lands a sloppy kiss on your lips that has a string of saliva connecting both of your mouths when he pulls away.

he stands back up and lands another stinging slap across your ass, groaning, “my pretty fuckin ass.”

as if he couldn’t get any dirtier, suguru then grabs either of your cheeks and spreads them apart to get a good view of your sex, the sudden exposure of which makes you feel even wetter. that last fact seems of no use to suguru when you feel a large glob of spit land and run down your hole.

you suck in breath when you feel suguru start to rub his tip across your folds.

“sloppy little pussy,” he mutters before pressing into you. and you both groan when he starts to inch himself in even further.

the moan you let out when he completely pulled out and slammed back in was sinful and the noises that followed when he started doing that again and again at a faster pace without mercy had you outright screaming. 

you felt like you were constantly breathless, constantly trying to breathe. he hadn’t ever been this hard on you before.

and you thought you knew what hard was from him before.

“i know, i know,” he whispered against your neck when he pressed himself down against you and started jackhammering even closer to your cervix, so on point with your gspot too that you felt your orgasm starting to build up

a particular gutteral squeal from you had him breathing a “so cute” while he never relented his brutish force against you

“sugu–sugu,” you reached around for one of his arms, heaving, grabbing onto it while he violently moved the both of you, “i’m gonna–mmm–i’m gonna cum, i’m gonna cum!”

the confession had suguru suddenly changing positions, hooking his arms up and under your armpits to pull you up to stand flush against his body while he slammed up against you ferociously. it unexpectedly had your high crashing against you after a graze of your gspot.

“that’s it baby, that’s it.” suguru consoled when he felt you twitch in his hold and your juices dripping all over his abdomen and cock, “such a good fucking girl.”

all you wanted to do was fall down and rest, but the most you could muster was letting your body go limp in your boyfriend’s unrelenting hold, letting him use you as he pleased.

“ ‘s too much sugu,” you whined as the overstimulation started kicking in

It didn’t get him to stop at all.

“remember what you said earlier hm?” he brought up, breathing heavy as he lifted a foot up to plant it against the edge of the bed. it was leverage for the scream worthy pace he started forcing on you now.

tears started to fall down your cheeks at the overstimulation. it was so good, too good. It was all so sinfully good. 

you felt your walls start to flutter again at your second nearing orgasm when you sniffled from the tears. and although your boyfriend still evilly abused your pussy, he leaned down and moved your face to the side with one hand so he could be face to face with you. 

you thought he was going to kiss you, but instead he started licking your tears off.

it was the catalyst for your orgasm and you thrashed rather hard against suguru, who you could feel suck in a breath at the sporadic clenches of your pussy.

“fuck,” he breathed harshly, pulling you even tighter against him to more easily meet his thrusts and you could feel his cock twitch as a symptom of his incoming orgasm.

that, and he started to speak up filthily.

“Mine–mine–mine–mine.” he reiterated quickly, punctuating each time with a thrust, “fuck ‘s all mine. god can’t get enough of you pretty baby. so fucking slutty and pretty. fuck–fuck–next time i see toji giving you heart eyes im gonna pump my cum inside you so he can see it running down your fucking legs. fuck–you like that baby? what–a–good–good–fucking–girl. tell me you want that baby.”

scrambling for any piece of sanity just to tell your boyfriend what he wants to hear, in hopes of spurring his lust, you moan out weakly, “i want it sugu i want it.”

“yeah? you want him to see me dripping out of your pretty fuckin pussy? god–i fucking–want–it. he’ll never get to fucking know what it’s like to cream this little hole.”

“so–so dirty sugu,” you moan sheepishly at the embarrassing realization that he might just make you cum a third time because of the added spur of his pussy drunk words. 

“pussy’s fucking dirty,” snarls back at you, pulling you closer to him, “can feel you clenching around me. know you fucking like it.”

the shut down of his words had you shaking in attraction to his ability to shut you up like no other.

“never–forget–you’re–mine,” he thrusts through, “ ‘s fucking pussy, your ass, your tits, your body, your pretty fucking face, ‘s all mine. you don’t need anybody but me. i’m yours i’m yours i’m yours. ‘s dick ‘s all yours, everything, baby. take it–take it–take it.” 

his breathing was starting to get heavier and you could feel his abs start twitching against you, a sign of his orgasm building up just as yours was all over again.

so it surprised you when suguru pulled out and threw you onto the bed, your legs hanging off the edge before he picked them up and slanted them up against his body by hugging them close. “come here, come here,” he quickly let one arm go for a second to guide himself into you again before wrapping it around your legs again. he repositioned the one leg of his back on top of the bed for his leverage and leaned forward a bit to go back to his brutal thrusts. 

“wanna see your face when you cum again.” he muttered as he stared at you squealing and moaning lewdly at his ministrations

suguru started kissing and mouthing at your calves while keeping you in a deadlock of eye contact. his cheeks and ears were tinged pink and his hair had fallen out of the half up half down do he had it in earlier. 

the worshipping of your legs and eye contact had to have been the last straw for you, because after a certain lick of your skin, you started crashing, feeling yourself let go across the entire lower half of your boyfriend, resisting the urge to cover your face in embarrassment because he recently made it a point that he really really liked seeing your face when you came.

the point was proven when he followed soon after you, thrusting half haphazardly into you as he blew his load inside of you in time with every squeeze of your cunt. it was accompanied by a litter of painful bites across your calves and heavy breathing from your boyfriend. he looked like he came hard, it felt like he did, considering how every spurt of his cum was sharply thrusted into you, making you wince in pain every time his tip kissed your cervix.

both of you were breathing heavily after, especially suguru, his skin covered in a thicker veil of sweat than you, who was simply taking all of that force he was exerting. he was still holding onto your legs, resting his forehead on the bare skin of your foot that wasn’t covered by your heel. 

his eyes were closed and he licked his lips, a bit tired, as he spoke, “i think i do get jealous after all, i’m sorry.”

his confession made you slightly clench around him, making him suck a breath in at the sensitivity while you breathlessly giggled, “that’s okay, i never said you couldn’t.”

suguru lazily bit your calf again as a sign of retaliation, "you could sound less excited."

[sttoru]

𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐎𝐋𝐃-𝐅𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐎𝐘 !

⟣ sypnosis. you were curious if your boyfriend would pass a ‘loyalty test’ that you’ve seen on social media and you decide to see for yourself, only to discover something much more . . . heartwarming.

⟣ tags. gojo satoru x female reader. mostly tooth rotting fluff. talks about cheating / a sprinkle of trust issues from reader. the rest is satoru just being lovesick.

⟣ note. uhhhh… idk just a random idea i got at three am on a saturday night after being woken up from a nightmare >_< enjoy .

you don’t think satoru would actually ever cheat on you. your curiosity just got the best of you when you saw that one girl do a ‘loyalty test’ on her boyfriend. it was quite simple—testing if your partner would hand you their phone without being suspiciously defensive.

therefore you walked into satoru’s room and spotted him laying on his side, his back facing the door. he didn’t have any earphones in so you could hear the sounds of a movie playing on the phone he held in his hands.

he seemed so peaceful and content that you were already feeling bad for disturbing him with your silly test. you moved to sit on the edge of the bed and cleared your throat, making your presence known as if the sorcerer hadn’t sensed it moments ago.

“are you cheating on me?”

blunt and straight to the point.

satoru pauses the show on his phone and looks at you like you had said the most outrageous thing there is (to him, you really did). he drops the device on the bed and turns his body to face yours; “well—hello to you too, baby.”

he runs a hand through his hair before sitting up against the headboard with a raised brow, one hand cautiously reaching out for you. satoru was thinking about all the things he has said or done previously that could’ve possibly make you think he was screwing around behind your back. his mind worked fast, though he couldn’t come up with any logical explanation.

“answer my question please, ‘toru.” you mumble, feeling slightly guilty for doing this to your lover. you could see the confusion plastered on his face.

“no, i am not.” satoru shakes his head whilst holding your hand in his, thumb brushing against the back of it, “what makes you think that?”

you weren’t about to say ‘oh nevermind then! just a dumb thing that i saw on tiktok’—no, there was still one thing left to do. even if you’re so super sure that your boyfriend was hiding nothing from you. maybe there was an one in a million chance that your intuition was wrong. or maybe it’s just your underlying trust issues speaking.

“uhh, just wanted.. to check.. i guess?” you clear your throat and take a deep inhale before putting your hand out to satoru, palm up.

the white-haired sorcerer looks from your hand to you, and back. he doesn’t know what that indicated, so he takes a simple guess; satoru places his chin on your palm, giving you an amused kind of grin. you raise an eyebrow as he rests his head on your hand—which wasn’t what you wanted to gain from your gesture.

but you couldn’t blame him. it was cute that that was the first thing he thought of doing.

“you’re always welcome to check. got nothin’ to hide anyway.” he shrugs, not offended by your accusation in the slightest. you see the way his blue eyes look up at you—in a way that shows his pure, unadulterated adoration for you.

you nod and scratch satoru under his chin, to which he smiles and closes his eyes, enjoying the tingling touch, “then can i .. look through your phone?”

without an ounce of hesitation, he had placed his phone unlocked in your hand. satoru doesn’t care much about privacy anyway—you’re his girlfriend, you’re the only one allowed to know every single thing about him, “of course, baby.”

your eyes land on the screen and your jaw drops as you see his home screen; a picture of you up close, sleeping with your cheek squished against his arm, own hands resting near your head and . . . is that drool trickling down your chin?

“oops, sorry, you were too cute not to take a picture of.” satoru chuckles as he sees your reaction. he lays back on his side, elbow propped on the pillow with his head resting against his hand—watching you go through his phone with a relaxed look.

you roll your eyes playfully before starting your search. your finger swiped across the screen and landed on the messenger app satoru uses. you click on it and scroll through his chats, but don’t find anything out of the ordinary. he recently talked to you, his first year students, nanami and shoko.

you curiously tap on his chat with shoko and don’t read anything interesting at first glance. you scroll up and take note of how satoru was the one who kept most of the conversation going. shoko’s replies were much shorter and curt—straight to the point.

but then your eyes land on a conversation from two weeks ago. satoru had showed shoko a bunch of selfies you had sent him that same day. he was telling her how ‘cute’ and ‘pretty’ you were, practically bragging about you being his girl.

you scroll up some more and see that he’s done the same many times before; sending shoko pictures of you and kind of rambling to her about how beautiful you are.

shoko—being the good friend she is—indulged into his little lovesick ramblings and agreed with every thing satoru said—even complimenting your looks herself. you begun to get embarrassed at this unexpected revelation.

when going through more of his chats with other people, you realise how much satoru loves to talk about you. you couldn’t possibly count the many times satoru had refused invitations from his students or other friends simply because he wanted to hang out with you instead.

you discovered that he even skipped two or three important meetings at the school to go spend the day with you—nanami scolding him via text each time he did so.

“damn..” you murmur and glance up at your lover after closing his messaging app. satoru was staring right back at you with the biggest grin you’ve ever seen on him.

he wasn’t embarrassed about you reading some of those cheesy and sappy texts at all. in fact, he was happy. he wants you to know how much he loves you (as if he doesn’t show you exactly that every day of the week).

“go on, sweets.” satoru nods towards his phone, encouraging you to continue your inspection. your eyes dart back towards the screen and you shyly swipe and scroll some more, eventually ending up in his gallery.

the first things you noticed: two albums dedicated to you. all were filled with hundreds of pictures of you (and him). one was named ‘my love,’ the other ‘me&my love’ — both with a heart at the end. scrolling through them, you noticed many images you hadn’t even realised were ever taken.

many of those pictures were also favourited in his gallery.

you nibble on your bottom lip and leave the gallery app even more flustered than before. you aimlessly click around some more on his phone. what really surprised you most was that you were named in his reminder app.

there were tons—all added in one long list. some were so pure that you couldn’t contain the slight tears in your eyes;

‘bring gf gifts’, ‘remind gf that she’s amazing’, ‘bring gf lunch’, ‘send gf daily selfie’, ‘daily cuddles w gf (if she wants)’, ‘give gf big smooch (important!)’, ‘check up on gf when away on business’, — satoru doesn’t actually need to have those reminders on his phone. his mind is so full of you that he’ll automatically remember to do everything, almost on autopilot. he just has those there for… well, just in case he somehow ends up forgetting.

you lock his phone after seeing enough and give it back to your lover. you wordlessly crawl over to him on the bed and snuggle up to his body, head resting on his chest.

“sorry.” you quietly apologise. you knew he wasn’t hiding anything, but the fact that you still went ahead and tried out that ‘loyalty test’ on someone as loyal and loving as satoru makes your heart ache a bit. especially after discovering just how smitten he’s with you.

“dunno why you’re apologising—but please don’t.” satoru whispers and rubs your back in a soothing manner, kissing the top of your head and smiling against your scalp afterwards, “it’s fiiine.”

he’s entertained by the reactions to your discoveries, even if those are but mere indications to the actual unending and undying love he holds for you in his heart.

you lift your head up and look at satoru. your bottom lip stuck out, corners of your mouth twitching slightly whilst your eyes started to get a bit glassy. you really felt bad—yet you also felt appreciated on the other hand. if you didn’t go through with your curious idea, you wouldn’t have gotten to know about any of this.

“aww, my sweet, sweet girl.” satoru coos and places two kisses right below each eye, tapping your nose with a grin. he adores the way you look and if it wasn’t for his self control, he’d have nibbled on those cheeks of yours out of playful aggression.

it’s then that satoru remembers one of his daily tasks; one he hadn’t properly done today.

you were caught off guard once more as satoru’s lips crashed down onto yours—no warning given whatsoever. his big hands held onto your cheeks, thumb rubbing the skin there whilst his glossy lips moved against yours in a gentle yet much sloppy way.

“there,” the white-haired man hums in content as he pulls away, giggling once he sees a bit of his saliva coat your mouth. he wipes it away with his thumb, “your smooch of the day.”

you couldn’t help but laugh at the exaggerated cringy way satoru said the latter—your boyfriend laughing right alongside you afterwards.

satoru wasn’t done with you, however. he had many other daily tasks that were yet to be fulfilled.

[pnutbutter-n-j-elyy]

When They Call You Clingy So You Distance Yourself PT. 3 | Hyungline

Warnings: Cursing, Mentions of Suicide

Pt1, Pt2 Maknaeline

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

BANGCHAN|

You ran your fingers through your hair as you walked up to your front door.

The past week had already been stressful enough. After arriving at the airport, you realized that somewhere between you getting off the plane and getting to your parents' car your phone had fallen out of your pocket. You had to attend a funeral, your flight home had been pushed back by a day, and you still had a shit ton to do before you moved. Not to mention it ate at you the entire week that you were gone all you could think about was the argument you and Chris had.

Overall you felt absolutely shitty and you just wanted to crash.

You unlocked your door and slipped your shoes off and walked into the kitchen and set your purse down. You had left your luggage in the foyer, and were contemplating how nasty it would be just to leave your things in there until you unpacked at your new place.

You made your way into your room and flicked on your light and gave out a quiet yelp when you noticed someone in your bed.

Your heart slowed slightly when you realized that it was Christopher in your bed, hugging the bear he bought you in Europe when he was on tour.

He was curled in a fetal position, and knowing his nature, you knew he must have been staying in your room the entire week you were gone.

Your heartbeat sped up as you walked over to him, knowing what confrontation awaited.

He whimpered quietly in his sleep. Sadly.

"Christopher." You whispered, shaking his shoulder slightly. He whimpered again and you could swear you heard him say your name.

He must be having a nightmare.

"Baby." You said shaking him awake, harder this time.

Chris startled awake and looked at you. He stared for a moment as if you weren't real.

"Y-Y/N?" He asked quietly.

"Hey-"

His chest collided with yours as he pulled you into an embrace, and you immediately felt his tears wet your shoulder.

"I-I'm s-sorry b-babe. I didn't m-mean any of it- I didn't pl-please d-don't l-leave me. I'll do any-anything. I'll qui-quit wo-working so I won-won't be stressed an-anymore. A-Anything I-I mean it-"

"Love, shhh. I'm not leaving you." You said as you stroked his hair. It felt gross, and he smelled a little stale, and he looked worn out overall. You could tell that he probably hadn't moved much all this week.

"Did you really stay in my bed waiting for me to come back?" You asked quietly. He let out a whine into your shoulder refusing to let you go.

"Chris, I promise I'm not leaving you."

"But the boxes..."

You chuckled and stroked his hair again. "I'm moving, yes. But not away from you. The neighborhood I live in isn't the safest, and I figured you would like it better if I moved closer to the dorms, so you didn't have to travel as far in the opposite direction of your home." Chris still held onto you, and you could feel the downturn of his lips pressed into your shoulder like a soft kiss.

"You didn't answer my calls...I thought you broke up with me..."

You sighed and pushed him away from you slightly and you could see his heart sink a little until you kissed the edge of his lips, his slight stubble exfoliating your own.

"While I will admit, what you said wasn't very kind of you...I know that isn't you." You murmured, caressing his cheek. His brown eyes were wide and sad but filled with hope. "I understand you were stressed, and I understand I can be clingy at times, but that's only because I have so much love and affection for you, I have to get it out in a physical way. Or else I might actually explode." You giggle as you pinch his cheek.

His eyes widen slightly, and he opens his mouth to speak but you press your finger to his lips.

"Let me finish. I didn't answer your calls because I lost my phone at the airport when I went home. My cousin's spouse took her life so I went to go attend the funeral. I wasn't informed until a few days before, so I went to the studio to tell you I was leaving." You let out a breath. "I also wanted to ask you while I was there is you could help me finish packing since I have to be moved out in two days."

Chris looked at you. "I'm sorry for your loss, baby. I'm also so-"

"Shhhhhh." You said placing a quick yet super soft kiss on his lips. "Thank you for your condolences. But don't apologize for snapping at me Chris. I already forgave you the minute you did it."

His bottom lip trembled, and he started to cry, little hiccups coming through as he still apologized, even though you knew he meant it when you said he didn't. He repeatedly apologized.

"You're too good for me." He said once he calmed down, his quiet sniffles and hiccups infrequent.

"And you're too handsome for me." You said as you kissed the tip of his nose.

"You're beautiful though. Way more than me." He said staring holes into you. "When we get married and have kids I want them to look exactly like you."

You laughed and shook your head. "They need your smile though, which I have yet seen you give since I arrived." Your voice held mock sternness as you tried to look serious but ended up letting out a loud chuckle.

He was finally able to give you and actual smile, and his adorable little giggle finally peeked through. You poked your pinkie in his dimple and he giggled again.

You ruffled his hair once and then made a face.

"You need to go shower, love." You said your nose wrinkling.

He pouted and wrapped his hands around you, laying his head on your stomach. "Mmmm, just a couple more minutes. Let me hold you."

You sighed, a smile on your face as you looked down at the boy you knew you would spend the rest of your life with. You scratched his head affectionately.

"Who is the clingy one now?"

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

MINHO|

"Y/N!" Minho had been running around for almost an hour. His voice was hoarse and the wind was biting at him through his coat as he ran. Knowing your stubborn ass you had probably only left the hotel in a thin jacket, with one or two layers at most.

He took a second to catch his breath and looked around. "Y/N!"

He was about to start off in a different direction when his phone buzzed in his pocket.

"Did you find her?" Minho asked when he picked up a call from Jisung. All the members of both Stray Kids and TWICE were looking for you.

"Sort of? She asked me to go pick her up from in front of the Louvre - she said she lost track of time but she's too scared to-"

Minho started running again. "Thank you! I'll call you when I have her-" He hung up and felt his legs move faster than he thought was humanly possible.

Please God...Universe...whoever please just please let her be okay.

He arrived and he looked around for you. When he didn't see you he started to panic until he noticed your figure swamped in one of is hoodies hunched over on a bench dozing off.

"Y/N!"

You perked your head up and saw your boyfriend running towards you, his long coat nearly flying off his shoulders.

He stopped in front of you and you braced yourself for him to start yelling at you after he caught his breath.

But instead of yelling at you his pants turned into desperate weeps.

"Minho-"

He fell down on his knees and you quickly joined him on the ground.

"You-you scared me I tho-thought..." He couldn't even look at you.

"I'm sorry Minho, I didn't mean to...I..." Your voice was wobbly. You hadn't ever seen Minho cry before in the entire time you had been together. You didn't know how to comfort him, or what to say to get his cries to stop.

It made you want to cry how vulnerable he sounded. How weak and broken.

"Its not safe here. Anywhere. Thats why I was so scared." He whispered looking up at you, his eyes rimmed red. "One of the girls said they couldn't find you and I panicked. I've been running around for almost three hours."

You felt a pang of guilt strike you in your heart.

"I-I'm so-sorry..." You began to tear up as the pain of being mad at Minho seemed to hit you like a ton of bricks. You missed your boyfriend. "I'm sorry for being clingy too. I thought you wanted to be alone so I hung out with the girls...but I felt like maybe they'd think I was clingy too so I thought I would just spend today alone-"

"Y/N stop. First off the girls will never and I mean never find you clingy." He wiped his face and chuckled, a small smile forming on his face. "We were in a meeting last week and they were playing rock paper scissors over who gets to marry you. I told them that you were mine and Tzuyu said 'did you guys hear something?'"

He licked his lips and took a breath. "Secondly you don't need to apologize, Jagiya...all of this...this was my fault. I shouldn't have called you clingy. Because your clinginess...its something I love. Adore even. You know how to respect boundaries when needed as well. But it's obvious I have work to do on that, because I crossed a line I never should have crossed. So I am so, so, sorry Y/N. I'm sorry that I can't manage my frustrations in a way that won't hurt you. And I'm sorry that I'm horrible at communicating. I'm sorry that I say things that never should come out of my mouth."

You look at your boyfriend and the sincerity in the words his is saying. You swallow as he continues.

"I'm sorry that I cause more trouble than it's worth sometimes. That I make things a little more stressful than they need to be as well. I'm sorry that I can't express my love in the way you need either." He takes a shaky breath and he looks at you; your hear thumping in your chest at his apology.

"I love you. I love you. So much, Y/N. But I struggle to express that love and affection properly...which isn't fair to you." He lets go of your hand and you instinctively reach out for the warmth of it again. He lifts up one of his knees from the ground.

"So please be patient with me. Be patient with me so you understand the depth of my love for you. It is going to take a long time...if I had to guess..."

He pulled out a navy blue velvet box from his coat pocket. You watched as he opened it and a dainty but elegant ring was placed in there.

"It will the take the rest of my life to be able to show you." His voice trailed off and he trailed his eyes up to yours as he waited for you to say something...anything.

"I love you Y/N L/N."

You shook your head. Minho felt his heart start to shatter until you giggled and wiped away your tears.

"You idiot, it's Lee. Not L/N. Lee." You held your hand out and Minho slid the ring on your finger, his own trembling.

"I'm sorry I ruined your elaborate proposal."

Minho cocked his head as he helped you up, pulling you as close as humanly possible to his side so he could wrap you up in his coat as well.

"How did you know about that?"

"Jisung told me when I called him earlier..."

Minho chuckled as you guys walked along.

"Thats why we should probably wait to tell him about our engagement." You admired your ring with a bright smile.

Minho shook his head. "I'm gonna tell him when we get back. Because I want the world to know."

You looked at each other and immediately bursted out laughing because you both had the same thought.

"And that will be the quickest way for them to know."

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

CHANGBIN|

Changbin had sped past three red lights to get here.

He would not lose you. He couldn't. The past couple of weeks had been grueling for him.

Your presence was something he was missing in his life. And that furthermore showed him how much he needed you.

How desperate he was to keep you.

He pulled into the lot illegally and ran into the small coffee shop. All the memories he had with you flooded his mind, since this was you and his favorite coffee shop. He had just been so busy that you guys never had time to come here anymore. It was more than half an hour away from your house and his dorm. And even further from the studio.

He scanned the small area and almost immediately pinpointed you with another person. A guy.

He was in a nice outfit as well. Very clean and put together. Lean and tall.

He watched as you both got up and hugged each other and watched as you smiled brightly at the guy and laughed at something he said.

"Alright I'll see you Wednes-"

"No! You will not see her Wednesday!" Changbin said as he pulled you from the guys embrace. "Listen, I don't know who you think you are but I'm her boyfriend! And she hasn't properly broken up with me yet so you can't have her! And if even if she did I wouldn't allow it!" He stared the guy down. Or rather up.

Damn he's even taller than he looked.

"Y/N-ie did you not tell-"

"I'm the only one who can call her that! Well...me and the guys but you're not the guys so you can't." Changbin mumbled angrily like a frustrated toddler.

"Changbin! Quit being such a fucking dumbass!" You said smacking him above the head lightly. You turn to guy and apologize profusely. "I'm sorry, Bin is a little...possessive." A nervous laugh escaped you. "Like a Chihuahua...but not the kind quiet sweet ones more like the ones who have a bark bigger than themselves." You said looking at your boyfriend with frustration in the lines of your face.

He looked down as you apologized to the guy once more.

"It's okay Y/N-ie...I think this is a memorable meeting. I'll definitely bring it up in my speech when you guys get married." He laughed. "I'm Justin Kim. Y/N's brother-in-law." He held his hand out and Changbin looked between the two of you. Justin had a smile on his face while you were looking at Changbin with annoyance.

"Ah! I'm so sorry...uh..."

"I think I'm older than you but I didn't grow up using honorifics so you can just call me Justin."

Changbin bowed and apologized, but held his hand out to shake.

"My wife and I are moving here settling down here soon. She's back home but will be here next week with the last of our things. She was stationed here for a little bit when she was in the military and loved it and since her only sister found love here and doesn't have much time to come see her since she's dating an idol, she thought it would be nice to move here. I agreed since it is beautiful, and this where our family is." He motioned his head towards you.

"Although she might be a little upset that I met you before she did. Especially since she'll be entrusting you too take care of her little sister...although I feel like its more so because she's quite a big fan of you guys. Ever since Y/N-ie said she was dating an idol she's been keeping up with culture and your band, so she can better understand."

Justin smiled and looked over at you. "I'll uh...let you guys talk though. Y/N-ie I'll have your sister call you when I get home. She might be a little flippy floppy though because she went through the stock of pregnancy cravings I bought her." He hugged you one last time and pulled Changbin into a hug as well before walking off.

"Changbin are you really that idiotic?" You looked at your boyfriend and he tried to sputter out a response, but you interrupted him befroe he could form coherent words. "I think you are, I fear." You let out a defeated sigh as you slunk back into your chair. You looked tired.

"Jiwon, can you grab me my usual. And do you remember Binnie's?" Changbin turned to see a barista nod at you and start to prepare your order. He sat down across from you and quickly realized that he was mistaken about a lot of things.

"Binnie I would never break up with you. I may break your head open because sometimes my God I want to slap you upside it so hard, but I would never break your heart." The sigh you let out was deafening. "If you were so jealous about me talking and hanging out with Minho so much why didn't you tell me? You really think flirting with a barista to make me jealous is a good idea, babe? Really?" Jiwon placed two drinks in front of you guys. "Chan told me. I think he spotted it pretty quickly, and noticed how you were turning down her advances when I wasn't around. Also, rather rudely too apparently - because Seo Changbin what do mean to tell me when Chris said you made a gagging noise at the poor girl!"

Changbin's eyes widened, and his lip popped out in a small pout. "I'm sorry Y/N."

"It's okay Binnie. But there isn't a need to be jealous baby. I'm not leaving you for Minho, he's just an extremely close friend. I'm not leaving you for anyone else period. And I'm sure as hell not going on any dates. I had to dress nicely because we were doing a photoshoot." You gestured to the cafe you guys were currently sitting in. "Justin and I are going to be co-owners. I thought it would be nice to have a location closer to where we live so we can go more often, and that one little restaurant closed down so I thought it would be a good opportunity." A soft smile painted your face. "And it's partially selfish reasons...I can't help but think of us when I think of this place."

Changbin's heart swelled with affection. So much affection that it hurt him.

"So while I have been upset with you for the past three weeks I'm over it Binnie. I miss you so much." Changbin got up and moved next to you.

"You mean it?"

You chuckled and placed a kiss on his lips. "100%." You said connecting them again, a little bit more passionately, but pulling back when you felt a mass amount of messages come through your phone, and then it immediately started ringing. Changbin pouted as he stared at your lips as they turned into a nervous grin.

"Although...you might have a shit show in store when it comes to my older sister."

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

HYUNJIN|

You sat with Hyunjin the couch as you two watched your favorite series together. Today was your yearlong anniversary. You had been in bright spirits for the occasion as you guys went out and did things together.

Hyunjin slowly ran his long fingers through your hair, and he felt you slowly dozing off.

"Baby..." Hyunjin whsipered, "Are you sleepy?"

"Hmm, just a little..."

"Can we talk?" Hyunjin paused the show, not giving you a choice.

You sat up and you felt your heart thump in your chest.

"Yeah we need to."

Hyunjin nodded. "You go first."

"No you"

You both spoke at the same time.

"Marry me-"

"We should break up-"

You looked at Hyunjin dumbfounded and he looked at you with utter digust.

"First off... that is utterly disgusting that you would even consider breaking up with me? What are you some sadist? Deriving pleasure from my pain and humiliation?" He said putting a hand to his chest dramtically.

You looked at him with wide eyes. "W-Well are you some sort of crazy person?! What the hell do you mean marry me?!"

Hyunjin pouted. "Well you can call me crazy all you want I'm being serious." He ran a hand through his brown bangs. "We've been together a year. And I know I want to be with you for the rest of my life. And I know for a fact you do because how the heck could you not want to marry me? I mean we'll quite literally be the most beautiful couple God has ever put on this earth." He said rolling his eyes in a joking manner.

You didn't see amused, rather your lip was shaking slightly and your eyes watering.

Hyunjin bit his cheek and pulled out a little ring from his pocket.

"It's a little cliche, I know. And some will probably say too soon. But I know what I want." He said quietly.

He took a breath and spoke slowly, switching to his native language.

"Cling to me Y/N. For the rest of your life. Ask me how you look. Let my eyes cling to you when I admire you. Let my words cling to you when I say just how beautiful you are. Cling yourself to me every night before we fall asleep, and let me cling to you every morning when we wake up. Let yourself cling onto me when you feel like you aren't enough, and let me cling onto you so I can show the world that you are enough-that you are more than enough; and you will always be more than enough. Let me cling to you in the times where I feel you need reassurance, and I'll let you cling to me the times where you feel like I'm not sufficient enough. We may not be perfect but Y/N no couple is. I don't care what people think about us. We can be perfectly imperfect together. I'll let you cling to me so those hateful words have no room to stick. I'll let you cling to me so everyone around us knows that I am not me without you. That you're the one who completes me. Cling to me so tightly that if God forbid you ever leave you would take everything of me with so no o that no one else could ever cling to me. Because I won't let anyone else do that. No matter how much they claim to know what is best for me, they don't. Because if they did, they would know that it's you. And it will always be you. Thats why I'm so sure of this."

He slid the ring on your finger, as you watched him admire it on your hands. He didn't look up as he murmured quietly.

"Cling to me Y/N...I'm begging you."

You looked at Hyunjin and felt a few tears fall onto your hand as he held it with both of his own.

"You...you knew?"

Hyunjin shook his head. "Not when I said what I said. But Y/N I swear I didn't mean it in a mean way." He looked up at you helplessly. "In retrospect now I realize they meant it in a vicious way but...I genuinely thought that clinginess was a good thing. Isn't that how it's supposed to be when you love someone? Aren't you supposed to want to be with them?"

His brown eyes searched your face. "Because that's how it is for me. How it will always be. I don't want it to be any other way."

You felt your eyes prick up with tears.

"Did you really mean it when you said you want to break up?" He whimpered.

You shook your head aggressively. "No, Hyunjin no- I was just feeling insecure. I see how everyone reacts at us and sometimes I feel like I'll never be accepted as being your girlfriend."

"Fiancée." He corrected. "If they won't accept you as my girlfriend then I'll make them accept you as my fiancée. And if they want to be asses after that than tough luck because if anyone dares to not accept you as my wife than I'll find a way to deal with them." He said in complete seriousness.

You couldn't help but laugh as you moved your hands to cup Hyunjin's cheeks.

"Hyunjin I haven't said yes." You said quietly.

He gives you a determined look. "But you will say yes..."

He waited patiently for you to say yes.

"Jagiya. Three letters. Y-E-S. You just have to move your mouth to say it." He said stubbornly.

You shook your head.

"I'm not going to say yes Hyunjin."

His eyes widened and he opened his mouth to protest but instead you kissed him lightly, resting your forehead against his own.

"You won't say yes?" He whined.

"Nope."

"Why not...do you not want to say yes? Can you give me a straight answer Jagiya? Because I won't accept it until you say no. Until then I'll assume you are just being stubborn."

You smiled as your eyes met. Hyunjin looked at you waiting for you're answer. Which was so much more than a yes.

"I'll cling to you Hyunjin. Always. As long as you promise to do the same."

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@hardladytale @yaorzu-blog @viola-celine @jiminssluttyminx @pearl-monkeys @wave2ivy @keshet2k @dreammix88 @mysticalhumano @hannahlolo @periodpoops @m1rroh @seungmyynie @beebee18 @theodorenottgf @qrstarz @xocandyy @stay-tiny-things @vixensss @bo-fairykim @conwunder @parisanmorovati @lovesunshinefelix @hyunjins-dimples @ka0ila @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @chuuyaobsessed @dollschan @katexstay @lisunny2 @abovenyx @adrisiwiris @dontwannaexist @minsungsthirdwheel @ray0magdalene @maaayytyroshka @ddiidi

(if I missed you I'm so so sorry <3)

[brningcigs]

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

no1-pro hero!katsuki x babysitter!reader !!

╰┈➤ -ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

“is the brat asleep?”

you were knocked out of your cleaning trance upon hearing that familiar gruff voice, glancing over your shoulder and smiling before you looked back down to finish washing the dish in your hand. “he sure is.. he knocked out about twenty minutes ago.”

katsuki approached the sink, leaning against the counter as he watched you clean the dirty dishes in the sink. “how’s he been with you? i know he can be a handful.” you simply smiled and shook your head. “he’s an angel. s’got a temper like his daddy, but i know how to handle him.” you replied, your smile only growing. ever since you started working for bakugou you and his son became inseparable. he was the sweetest kid - sure his tantrums were a nightmare but he was awesome.

katsuki chuckled and nodded his head. “yeah sorry bout that.. he seems to take after me with a lot of those kinds of things. how are you with.. yknow, everything? working for me i mean. any complaints?” as you pondered his question you turned away from the now empty sink and grabbed a clean rag, drying your hands off on them before looking back up at katsukis taller frame. “i like it.. i really do. honestly i would do it for free. you’re son is wonderful and you’re..” you stop yourself before you accidentally say something unprofessional, smiling sheepishly as your ears heat up a few degrees. “you’re wonderful as well..”

the corner of katsukis mouth pulls into a grin noticing the faint hint of color on your cheeks and he leans in a little closer. “you’re pretty wonderful yourself.” he spoke in a foreignly tender voice and you can’t help but lower your head to hide the growing blush on your face and tuck your hair behind your ear. “thank you..” you say as you glance back up at him, your eyes switching between his red ones.

a brief moment of comfortable silence falls between you two before katsuki finally breaks it, his hand reaching out to rest on the counter top behind you. “do you wanna have dinner with me sometime?”

you almost choke on nothing, surprised by his sudden proposal and you find your cheeks starting to hurt from smiling so much. “i- yeah i would.. love that a lot.” you reply with a small giggle and a few chuckles pull from katsuki as well. “good.” he replies, nodding his head in triumph.

a moment of silence fell between you two but it wasn’t uncomfortable. when you first started working for katsuki, he was more stand-off-ish, not really making conversation or feeding into your attempts at small talk. but as the weeks of working for him turned into months he became more accustomed with you, and you were just so good with his son.

katsuki could still recall the moment he realized he was interested in you beyond working as his babysitter for his son - or his ‘brat’ as he referred to him as. he had come home from work late, pushing down enough of his ego to apologize for getting held up when he spotted you in his sons nursery, holding the small child in your arms protectively in your sleep. his features softened as he stared, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips and his heart swelled.

ever since that moment, he knew he wanted to get closer to you. he became more talkative, showing his appreciation more. he even started paying you more, which took him having to tell you to shut the hell up when you politely declined, pointing out that he had more money than he knew what to do with.

now that he’d finally made a move, you were beyond overjoyed. you weren’t sure what to expect of this date, but you couldn’t wait to finally get to know him on a deeper level.

[marvelwitchergilmore]

Nobody Important

Summary: Logan x Fe!Reader -> When you first meet Logan you tell him you’re nobody important. But it soon becomes clear you are a lot more important than you say. 

Disclaimer: Contains descriptions of nightmares, couple of swear words, being drugged (nothing bad, just some chamomile tea). Mostly fluff moments with a hint of angst. I watched X-Men and wanted to write something for him. Reader has powers though they're not specified fully. Not Proof Read.

When Charles told Logan someone was going to pick him up from the airport, the last person he expected was, well, you. 

Compared to the pristine and fancy cars that were held at the school garage, you pulled up in a beat up old station wagon that looked like it had seen more than a couple of scratches in its time. And you weren’t dressed…like the rest of them. 

Rather than in some kind of pant-suit combo, you were wearing a long sleeve t-shirt, jeans, boots and a heavy brown leather overcoat. 

“Hey, sorry I’m late. Hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long.” You began immediately as you stepped out onto the curb and rushed towards him. “I was at the back of the forest collecting some berries and lost track of time. Shall we get going?”

Logan looked you over. You seemed a lot more…energetic than he was. 

“Who are you?”

“Professor X sent me. To collect you. You are Logan, aren’t you?”

“That depends. Who are you?”

“Your ride to the school, unless you plan on walking for two hours in the freezing cold.”

Logan grunted and threw his bag into the backseat. You still hadn’t answered his question but the licence plate of your car matched that of the one Charles had told him to look out for. 

However, fifteen minutes into the drive, Logan asked once more. “Who are you?”

You smiled and looked at him for a moment before moving your gaze back to the road ahead. “Nobody important.”

“Okay, fine. What are you?”

You smiled again. “Nothing you need to be concerned about.”

“Alright, listen bub-”

“Logan, whatever information about me you think you’re gonna have me tell you; it’s not gonna happen. I work with Charles and that’s all you need to know.”

Logan furrowed his brows. “So you’re a telepath? Like him?”

“You don’t need to concern yourself with what or even who I am. But,” you reached down and pulled a file from the driver's side door before turning it over on the steering wheel and handed it over to him. “You should concern yourself about this.”

Logan took it, a little confused, and opened it up. 

“He wants you to know what you’re walking into when we get back.”

After that, the rest of the drive was silent save for one question from Logan, only to have you reply with; 

“All the answers you’re looking for are either in there or are with the Professor.”

He didn’t bother asking you another question after that. Not that you would have answered it anyway. 

Once you finally did pull up to the school, it seemed you were beside him one minute and went the next into some unknown corner of the school because he didn’t see you after that. 

But he still had questions. 

Unanswered questions. 

Like who the hell were you? 

A week later, he still didn’t have his answers. But he did run into you again. 

In the kitchens. 

The entire place was a lot messier than the communal kitchen. It looked like some mix between a witches cottage and a mess hall in a school cafeteria. But it didn't smell as bad. 

Instead it smelt of cinnamon, oranges, rosemary and cookies. 

And somehow

It was relaxing to him. 

“Penny for your thoughts?”

Logan looked up to find you standing at the other end of the kitchen, a bowl under one arm and a spoon in the other. Flour was dusted across your face and your hands were splotched with food colouring stains. Which matched the batch of rainbow coloured cookies behind you. 

“Err, no. I was just-”

“Here, sit. I’ll make you some tea.”

“I don’t really drink..tea.” 

Logan was still taking in the room. Every time he looked back to a spot, he found a new detail to it. Extra herbs, or ingredients, or even flowers. 

You smiled, placing down the bowl and spoon before moving across the kitchen to the simmering pot on the stove. 

“Here, try this.”

“Oh, I, uh-”

“Just drink it.” You sighed a little, with a light smile. Nobody would have to meet Logan to know he wasn’t a tea drinker. But he was also polite enough to accept a drink. 

And he did. 

“Is this where you work?”

You nodded, going back to the fresh batch of cookies you needed to start scooping out. 

“Do you usually work this late past midnight?”

You chuckled a little to yourself. “Sometimes. Mostly it’s because I think of a new recipe and want to try it out when no-one's gonna disturb me.”

“Am I disturbing you?”

“No. Plus, I heard you coming down the stairs. Figured it wouldn’t be long before you found another night owl.”

Logan grunted with a soft chuckle. “I don’t think it’s intentional being a night owl.”

You shrugged. “We all have our reasons.”

Logan nodded and took another gulp of his tea. If he thought he felt relaxed when he walked into the kitchen, he didn’t have a word for what he was feeling after the tea. 

“Hey, what’s in this tea?”

“Not much. Chamomile mostly.”

Logan nodded. But then something shifted. He was getting drowsy. Not relaxed. Not sleepy. Drowsy. 

“Hey, what did you put in this?”

Logan went to stand and repeat his question, but he was out like a light before he could finish. 

Logan, for the first time…ever, woke up slowly. From the light that came flooding in through his window, to slowly turning over and feeling the bones in his body crack just right to allow his joints to feel at ease, to not thinking a thing as his brain slowly turned back into gear. 

Then he jerked up. 

With a grunt, he looked around him. 

He was in his room. 

The last thing he could remember was your tea and the kitchen. 

Flinging the covers from him, he tore his way out of his room and down the hallways until he finally reached his destination. 

The Professor’s office. 

Walking inside, he found the situation entirely too calm. 

“Ah, good morning Logan. Glad to see you’re finally awake.”

“What the hell happened?” 

“You fell asleep. Y/n helped put you to bed before you collapsed on her kitchen floor.”

Logan turned at that moment to find you sat on the sofa by the window inside the office. 

“You.” Logan practically snarled. “You did something. What did you do?”

Logan approached you but where anyone else would have flinched, you didn’t. In fact, all you did was sit back further and smile up at him. 

“She didn’t do anything, Logan. You needed to sleep.”

Logan turned and looked at the Professor. “Don’t mean I have to be drugged.”

Then you stood. “It was just a little tea, Logan. The more exhausted you are, the faster and harder it works. But now you look more rested. Your skin looks less like you’ve been thrown into a washing machine for a couple spins.”

“Are you always this blunt?”

You smiled. “It’s part of my charm.”

“Ain’t nothing charming about this conversation, doll.”

“Really? Because I’m finding this thrilling.”

Professor X smiled. “Okay, that’s enough, you two.”

“She started it!”

You just smiled again. “You’re welcome. If you ever need more tea, you know where to find me.”

With a pat to his arm, you walked past him and said your goodbyes to the professor before heading for the door. 

“Don’t worry about it, you can keep your tea.”

“Have to admit, though. I did help.”

Internally, reluctantly, he did have to. Because despite everything, it was one of the best nights of sleep he’d ever had. 

Another week rolled by and despite Logan doing everything he could to avoid the woman that he still considered had drugged him to sleep, he seemed to see more of you. 

Turns out, you taught cooking and baking classes to the students so they could at least make themselves a decent meal every once in a while instead of quick ramen noodles. And you also taught outdoor survival skills which Xavier had Logan help sub in with. 

But this also meant, much to his chagrin, Logan was actually starting to like you. 

Rather than wanting to storm off in the other direction, he wasn’t annoyed by your presence in the room anymore and you definitely had a way with teaching a group of rowdy teenagers who would rather do anything other than learn normal “camp” things. 

It was actually entertaining watching you teach your students. And even he learnt a thing or two.

Another week passed and Logan found himself back in your kitchen, sitting at the kitchen island, watching you as you lent one palm on the counter top, a pencil between your teeth and two pens behind one of your ears. 

“Want some tea?” You asked him after a few minutes of content silence. 

“Are you going to drug me again?”

You rolled your eyes. “It’s store bought, Logan. I just added a couple extra things.”

“Really, like what?”

Sighing, with a slight smirk, you turned around and pulled the box of tea from the cabinet before throwing it at Logan from over your shoulder. “Read it. It tells you what to add.”

“They actually sell this stuff?”

You turned back to your messy notebook with a smile. “It helps when your grandmother worked in the tea business for forty years. All the tricks of the trade, passed down through generations.”

Logan watched you work- no, dance around the kitchen. You didn’t even have to look at what you were doing and before he knew it, there was another tea in front of him, in a glass mug with hand-painted roasting logs on it. 

Logan looked at it for a moment and then you spoke up, without looking in his direction. “Being a night owl means different hobbies can be created. Glass painting was one of them.”

Logan shrugged with a nod before drinking his tea. The effects weren’t as quick or as “violent” as the first time. Instead, it was calming, then relaxing, then just plain and simple tiredness. 

“Go to bed, Logan. Before you crash into my floor again.”

“How did you get me to bed the last time? I’m not exactly all flesh and blood.”

You shrugged. “I’m stronger than I might look to you. But, go to bed, Logan.”

“Will you?”

“Will I do what?”

“Go to bed, too?”

You turned and faced him. “Soon. I want to finish this up first.”

“What are you even doing?”

“New recipe. I shouldn’t be long. Look, I promise. Twenty minutes, I’ll be in my bed, fast asleep.”

Logan raised his brow for a moment but then stood. If he waited any longer, he might actually crash onto the floor again. 

“Okay, fine.”

And you stuck to your word. Logan heard your footsteps coming up the stairs less than ten minutes later and after that…he didn’t remember much other than just complete calmness and sleep. 

The next couple of nights followed the same pattern. And even if he still wasn’t a tea drinker, Logan was growing a (small) taste for it. 

Until one night he walked in and found you stood in the corner, changing your t-shirt. 

You already wore a cami top underneath most of your t-shirts anyway – especially in the kitchen, but your first one had gotten too messy. So you were safe when changing. Except, you hadn’t expected Logan to walk in when he did. 

He paused for a minute by the door, a little apprehensive to make himself known but also trying to do so, so it wouldn’t seem like he was just watching you change your top t-shirt. But at the same time, he didn’t want you to know he was standing there because he could finally look at you. 

More so, when he saw your shoulder. 

From your left shoulder spread and faded over the top and to your right, a mark similar to a burn. The skin was scarred, yet healed over. A forgotten memory. The strap of your top cut through the larger scar that ran directly across the middle of the scarred skin, almost in a wave. Parts were redder than others but you didn’t seem to be in pain as you pulled the t-shirt over the top of your head and down your body, covering it back up. 

Logan coughed as he entered and you turned around, greeting him as you did every night. 

“New recipe?”

You nodded, looking at the messy t-shirt in your hand. “Yeah, it didn't go over too well with the mixer.”

“Better luck next time.”

And then you both just…talked. 

You were slowly telling him a little more about yourself each night, even if you didn’t know it yet. 

“I just remember being thrown into the wall and waking up like an hour later, completely covered in green brownie batter.”

You both laughed as you told him the story, but then he asked. 

“Is that where the scar is from? On your back?”

It was almost as if you had forgotten about it, having to take a moment to realise what he was talking about.

“Oh, that. No, that…that’s nothing important.”

Logan knew to drop his line of questioning. If you said it was nothing important, then there was no way of getting you to talk about it. 

Until the day he found you napping on the sofa. 

Everyone was outside for the day considering it was winter break and fresh snow had finally fallen on the ground. Except, you had opted to stay inside, and fell asleep on one of the central sofas in one of the quieter communal areas. 

The large windows let a lot of natural light flood in, and the fire that was crackling away in the fireplace was enough to heat the room, especially when the door was closed. 

And it wasn’t long before the quiet hum of the fire and odd crackle of the wood, mixed with the heat and your lack of sleep, overtook you and you fell asleep. You didn’t even wake when your book dropped from your hand and onto the floor. 

“Hey, Y/n, they’re all-”

Logan stopped in his tracks when he saw you. 

Fast asleep. 

He was careful to remain quiet as he walked over to you, cutting between you and the coffee table to pick up your fallen book and place it safely onto the table, where he sat on the edge and took a minute to just…memorise you. 

Since he met you, you had done nothing but be moving. All the time. From the crack of dawn to nightfall, you were constantly going and running and teaching and baking and doing and…hell, for all he knew, you could be something other than mutant or human – even those two needed sleep at some point. 

Hell, even he needed sleep. 

But you were just constantly forever going. 

Lay on your left side, your elbow tucked under your head, you were lightly snoring. Logan brushed the stray hairs that had fallen in front of your face, away, his hand rested on your cheek for a moment, his thumb brushing across your cheekbone for a second. 

You were fast asleep. 

Your worn Beatles band-tee was twisted slightly around your middle, whilst the waist of your jeans had twisted in the opposite direction a little, leaving a small gap that showed Logan the redness from the indent marks of where you had been lay, probably, on your other hip for a while. 

Logan thought about covering you up, and leaving you where you were, for a moment. But he also knew you could be like him when it came to sleep. And it was best to get it when you could. So, rather than chance the kids coming back in and waking you up, he made a decision. 

You flinched a little in your sleep as he spoke to you and lifted you from the sofa. It wasn’t long before he found your room and laid you into bed before covering you up. 

Once more, he brushed the hair from your eyes as you turned onto your side again. 

He looked around for a moment before finding what he was looking for. 

A heavy blanket. 

He lay it over the top of your bedcovers and you, before moving across the room to light the fireplace. 

Only, as he did so and placed the fireguard in front, you whimpered. 

He turned around but you were still. 

Then you whimpered again. 

“No,” you whispered. 

Logan moved over to you quickly and quietly as he could. You fell silent again. 

He let out a small breath and covered you up a little more before leaning down. He didn’t know why, but he pressed a small kiss to your temple before walking away. 

Except you reached out for his hand. 

Logan looked down at his hand that was connected with yours, then to you. You were still asleep. 

But it didn’t look like it was a good dream. 

You were shaking. Your entire body seemed to be paralysed with fear, all the while you were mumbling words Logan just couldn’t quite make out. 

Then the glass of water by your bed started shaking. Then the table it was on. Then your bed. Then the floor. Whatever was happening to you was spreading throughout your room. 

A picture that had been hanging on the wall outside, fell to the floor. 

Quickly turning back to you, Logan took hold of your shoulder. He kept calling your name but it was like you couldn’t hear him. 

“Please…please don’t hurt them. Please.” You screamed and then grunted in pain. Whatever was happening in your nightmare, you were being hurt. Badly. 

“Hey, Y/N! Hey, you’re okay! You’re safe! You’re in New York. You’re at school! It’s not real, Y/N. None of it is real.”

Your head shifted. You were searching. 

“I’m right here. None of it is real. You need to wake up.”

“L…Logan?” 

The violent shaking in your room slowed for a moment.

He was shocked. Maybe…

“Just follow my voice. It’s just a nightmare. I can’t get into your head and bring you out. Just…follow my voice.”

The shaking around your room gradually slowed, but you still were. Then your eyes opened. 

And glowed. 

They were still your eyes just…brighter. 

“Logan?!”

He had stopped speaking. You were panicking. 

“It’s okay. You’re safe. I’m right here.” Logan took hold of your hand and held it tighter. “You’re safe.”

The shaking slowed and your eyes closed again. 

Then everything stopped. 

Everything went silent. 

Logan looked at the glass of water beside your bed. It was like it had never moved. 

Then you gasped and shot up from your bed. You kicked your legs and brought your hands behind you to push yourself up and the covers from you. 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, hey, hey, Y/n. Hey,” 

You were gasping for breath, dizzy from your nightmare. 

“Hey, it’s me. Whoa. Hey, look at me. It’s Logan.”

He took you by your shoulders then your face. 

“It’s Logan.”

You finally calmed a little, and he watched your eyes search his entire face until you finally recognised him. 

“Logan,” you breathed. 

“Yeah…”

Your shoulders relaxed and you leaned closer to him, wrapping your arms around him. His hand held the back of your head and his other round your back, pressing you further into him. He could still feel your body trembling. 

“What happened?”

“You had a nightmare.” Logan told you. “The room started shaking and I tried waking you up.”

You took a couple of breaths before moving back and pushed the hair from your face and curled your legs up closer to your chest. 

Logan, sat beside them, placed one of his hands on your knee and the other in your right hand. 

“What happened?”

You shook your head. “Nothing-”

“The entire room started shaking and your eyes glowed. That’s not ‘nothing important’, Y/n.”

You swallowed and nodded your head before dropping your gaze and shifting until you were sat up, crossed-legged. 

Logan remained where he was, sat on the edge of your bed. 

“Before I worked as a teacher and cook here, I was one of them.” The last four words came out slowly, almost like you had to convince yourself you were saying them out loud. “I was an X-Man. I was a part of the team.”

“So what happened?”

“The usual. A mission gone wrong.”

“And that’s what the nightmares…”

You nodded. “It was the mission that made me retire. They needed me to do a job, and I couldn’t do it. There were kids, mutants, being held captive. Some rich dick thought he could duplicate mutants. As the team went it, I was meant to be holding ground outside, helping them find their way through. Only, I didn’t shut off my power. We knew they had someone who could detect me if I didn’t. I got so focused on trying to find the kids, trying to make sure the team got to them that the team almost…”

You paused for a minute. You hadn’t told anyone this story. Ever. 

Logan took your hand. “It’s okay. It’s just me.”

You let Logan’s touch soak into your skin. A memory you’d never forget yet never truly remember why you never would forget. 

“They almost died, Logan.” You looked at him and he could see the tears behind your eyes, threatening to come forward and fall again. “Everyone almost died, because I didn’t shut it down. You asked about the scar, the one on my back?”

Logan nodded. He didn’t like where this was going. 

“It’s from that day. One of their scientists had set off some kind of power..thing. Sent me flying blocks away from where I was supposed to be. I crash landed into some old wooden panelling which knocked me down. But once I got up…their Superhuman had found me.”

“Was he the one that-”

You nodded, remembering it as if it was yesterday. “I was thrown, this time on my front. I tried to get up but then all I felt was pure fire. He was burning me. Giving me a reminder of why ‘someone like me, born with the powers of gods’ shouldn’t have them when I was clearly so ‘weak’. By the time he stopped, I realised where he was going. And by the time I got up, everything just…blew up.”

“Y/n, everyone’s safe. You’re all here. Don’t you teach some of those kids?”

You nodded. “Doesn’t mean I don’t forget that feeling. One of the kids had been watching the guards, tracking their materials to find a way out. If they hadn't done that…they wouldn’t have gotten out, Logan. And they almost didn’t. All because I couldn’t fight. I can’t be the reason why I lose my family and the people I love.”

The tears came forward now, streaming down your face at an unstoppable speed. 

“I just can’t.”

Logan shook his head, pushing himself closer to you to hold you. And you let him. Leaning into him, you felt his arms grow tighter around your body. There was a small security in his arms, one that you hadn’t felt in a long time. 

“None of that was your fault.” Logan told you. “I know you and I know this team. You would never intentionally hurt people. And forgetting to turn your powers off? We’ve all made mistakes in moments like that. Sometimes you get so focused on one person, you tend to lose all sense of self. But none of that was your fault. They got out. They’re all here. They’re all alive. And rich dick is spending his life as dust in the fucking wind.”

“Believe me, I’ll be the first to tell you changing your feelings on something won’t stop the nightmares.” Logan continued. “But you need to find a way to let it go. Don’t let them control you. Not when you won. Not when you’re here, with everyone, able to drug me with some store bought tea.”

You laughed a little at that, wiping your tears away before Logan did the same thing, brushing his thumb underneath your eye and across your cheek. Logan smiled a little. Others might have called it a muscle flex, but knowing Logan; it was a small, brief smile. 

“Don’t let them win.”

You nodded, your head still in his hands. 

“Logan? Will you…Can you stay?”

It seemed to take Logan a second to find his answer. What you couldn’t see was that most of that time, he was trying to figure out why his answer came as fast as it did for him. 

“You don’t-”

“I can stay.”

You looked up at him and nodded with a slight smile. 

Moments later, Logan had kicked his shoes off and was lying beside you in bed. 

“Logan?”

“Yeah?”

You took his hand that lay between you both and turned your head to look at him. 

“Thank you for staying.”

It was his turn to turn his head and when he did, he felt something. The same feeling he’d been getting since the day you gave him his first cup of tea. 

Logan just nodded before lifting his arm. “Come here.”

You moved closer to him as he lifted the covers a little so you could do so. Then he dropped his arm around your back, his palm flush against its centre before it slid a little lower to hold you by your waist. 

As your head settled close to his chest, he dropped his head a little, leaning his jaw against the top of your head and as he felt you relax and close your eyes, he did the same thing. 

The moment your breathing became even, and he knew you were asleep, Logan settled back down and held you just a little tighter against him as he closed his eyes and joined you in a dreamless sleep. 

Hours passed and Charles hadn’t seen either you or Logan in hours. But when he spotted a picture frame that had fallen onto the floor, just outside of your room, he sped as quickly as he could down the hall, but paused when he saw the door open and a sight he didn’t think he’d get to witness for at least a few more months. 

From the hallway, Charles peered in to find the snow falling heavily outside of your window. The children and other teachers were still outside playing. The fire had died down a little, but even he could feel the heat from the room. 

And in the middle of the left hand wall through the door, was your bed. 

Where yourself and Logan slept soundly, almost as one. With your face and hand on his chest, and his arm around your waist, whilst his other hand held onto your arm in a soft grip, keeping your hand on him. 

Xavier could practically feel the serenity oozing from the pair of you. He knew Logan was troubled and that you yourself hadn’t felt safe or content in a long time. 

And he would never have to tell Logan of the change you brought to him, or the one he brought to you. The change that helped you feel safe again, content again. Happy again. Without the added feeling that something was about to go off kilter. 

Because Logan already knew. 

And so did you. 

And for Logan, no matter how many times you would tell him you were “nobody important”, you would always be important to him. 

[breadbrobin]

call it what you want

luke castellan x reader — percy jackson and the olympians

[fem!daughter of aphrodite reader]

summary: he fell first, you fell harder, and all at once.

warning: tooth-rotting fluff. literally i think that’s it it’s just sickeningly cute

word count: 2.1k

(the luke brainrot is so real i wrote this at like 4am last night plsss)

——————————————

luke castellan thought you could have hung the stars in the sky. he wouldn’t know any different, nor would he care to find out. in his mind, you were perfect. the most perfect, in fact.

there was one person that no one could hate at camp, and that was you. a friend to all who’d have you, a sister to those who needed you, and whatever you were to luke.

not even you understood the nature of your relationship with him.

years of friendship slowly became changed, twisted, slightly more than you’d bargained for. it was a happy change. realising you were in love with luke castellan was an ever-continuous process—a little one day, a little more another. but for luke… gods, realising he was in love with you came as easy as breathing. every smile on your lips, every laugh, every surreptitious look across rooms set his heart aflame. fluttering, dancing, swirling.

it wasn’t like you didn’t love him. you did. you surely did. but time hadn’t been kind to your heart and children of aphrodite have never been truly lucky in love. helping others achieve their loves was more common. more often than not, you and your siblings were happy with just that.

“anyone you got your eye on?” you asked one day as you sat with luke on the dock. your bare feet dangled into the water, toes just touching the cool surface.

“maybe. maybe not. when are you leaving?” he avoided the question, gazing out at the water and squinting in the glare of the sun.

“two weeks. i’m staying for my birthday this year.” you looked over at him. “you can tell me who it is, you know? i won’t laugh, i promise.”

he shot you an exasperated look. “what makes you think there is someone, princess?”

you lean over and nudge his arm teasingly, missing the blush on his face. “you’ve been distracted lately. quiet. you smile more though, and i’ve seen you blushing. who is it?”

“maybe i’m sick. what if i’m dying, y/n? then what? you’re assuming i’m in love when i’m actually dying?”

you raised your hands mockingly. “hey, you’re the one who mentioned love, pal. not me. ask yourself about that one.”

he rolled his eyes and elbowed you gently with a soft smile. his smiles were always soft, you realised. gentle and kind—two words you’d use to describe luke castellan any chance you got. you looked at him in the sunlight. and pretty, you thought. gentle, kind and pretty.

late nights were always for thinking.

you’d had trouble sleeping since you were a kid. not just the typical demigod issues with nightmares, but difficulty falling asleep in the first place. when those times struck, and the late hours before midnight slipped by, your thoughts wandered.

as always, your thoughts circled a few items; your family, your friends, then, always, luke.

he was separate to your friends, always had been. you didn’t really know why.

gentle, kind and pretty, you recalled. it had been a few days since the lake and you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about who he was in love with. was there some person out there at camp who held his heart, truly and deeply? why did your chest ache? were you having a heart attack?

you pressed your fingers to your pulse point in concern, then pulled them away after a few seconds. you were fine. why did you feel like that?

no one ever said children of aphrodite weren’t oblivious to their own feelings.

time ticked by into the small hours of the morning, and still you couldn’t find sleep.

you rolled out of bed and stepped into your slippers, pulling a fluffy robe around your body and stepping out into the warm night. the air was still and calm, a juxtaposition to your whirling mind as you crossed the camp, stepping down paths and stepping over tree roots in a manner you’d memorised from countless treks on similar nights.

the hermes cabin was always warmer than your own, but tonight the heat was almost stifling. you could feel the heat heavy in the air as you breathed, and sweat beaded on your lip as you crossed the cabin silently to luke’s bed.

he was sleeping half sitting up, a colouring book and set of pencils splayed out on his lap. it was one you’d bought him for his birthday years ago. you had no idea he even used it.

quietly, you packed away the pencils and put them and the book on the side table. as you did, luke’s eyes cracked open. he frowned.

“y/n? are you okay?” he rubbed his eyes, sitting up straight and stretching his neck.

“can’t sleep,” you whispered.

he nodded and pushed his sheets off. he pulled a sweatshirt on and led you out of the cabin.

this was normal for you both. if one couldn’t sleep, you’d find the other and keep each other company until you felt you could rest. it was always nice knowing someone was there to talk to, or even just sit with. there was never resentment, never irritation from the other person. you would always come find each other. finding each other was like second nature to the two of you. you swore you could find luke in any situation, with your eyes closed, all your senses blotted out, by instinct and connection alone. you could find luke castellan without even a second thought.

you sat on the porch of the cabin with your legs hanging over the edge. luke’s legs were crossed.

“what are we doing for your birthday?” he asked finally.

you shrugged. “nothing, probably. maybe i’ll get some cake. i don’t know.”

“you didn’t do anything last year,” he protested. “you need to this year. it’s the big 18.”

“we didn’t do much for your eighteenth.”

he shrugged. “we did more than nothing, though, pretty girl. come on, we have to do something.”

you shook your head. “you wanna do something, you can plan it, pretty boy. i don’t mind.”

he sighed dramatically, leaning back and lying down on the rough wood. “fine. i will.”

you laughed quietly and lay back next to him, staring up at the wooden overhang above you.

you could feel his body heat against your arm as it lay between you. he was like a furnace, honestly, always radiating heat. it was nice in winter, but oftentimes stifling in summer. this was not one of those times. instead, you revelled in the closeness between you and almost—selfishly, confusingly—wished you were closer. maybe even close enough to touch.

your birthday was a quiet affair. your siblings wished you happy birthday and gave you a handful of small gifts, mostly beauty products and clothes that would fit you perfectly, even a cute bikini you put on under your clothes, and then you all went on with your day.

it was nice, honestly, getting well wishes but little attention. you needed no celebration or pizzazz, just friends, smiles and the occasional hug.

arms wrapped around your waist from behind. you yelped in shock and turned around, finding yourself face to face with luke. he had a bright smile on his face and a smudge of glitter on his cheek.

you reached up and ran your finger over it, trying gently to remove some to no avail. “you have glitter.”

“i have glitter everywhere. i guess that’s what you get for asking one of my siblings for wrapped paper.” he removed his arms from your waist to reveal a poorly wrapped gift in purple glittery paper.

you laughed, taking it. “i’m surprised you haven’t got more of it on you.”

“oh, believe me, princess, i do.” he cringed, stepping back slightly. “happy birthday.”

you smiled up at him and opened the present, ignoring the glitter sticking to your hands and the warmth in your chest and cheeks.

he thought you looked like the sun had come down to earth.

it was a colouring book and a set of pencils. you smiled widely and flipped through the pages, revealing beautiful art. “you remembered i wanted one?”

“yeah, mostly because you kept stealing mine to colour in,” he teased. “but of course i did.”

you reached out and hugged him. “thank you, luke!”

“come on,” he pulled back and took your hand. “present isn’t done yet.”

“what have you planned?” you groaned half-heartedly as he pulled you through camp, jogging slightly to keep up with his long strides.

“don’t sound so scared, princess, it’s a good thing. i promise.”

you just sighed with a smile and let him lead you to the dock.

there was a small basket at the end of it.

you gasped excitedly. “luke, you…”

“happy birthday, y/n.” he sat down and pulled you gently down to sit next to him. he opened the the picnic basket and handed you a sandwich and a mini juice box with a bashful grin. “i would’ve sprung for coke but mr d. has a monopoly on the stuff around here.”

you laughed slightly and began eating, sitting cross-legged and looking out at the lake. the sun beat down on your back and your entire body felt warm. you suddenly weren’t sure how much of that warmth was from the sun, and how much of it was from love.

love.

whoa.

you froze with your juice box halfway to your lips.

luke looked over at you. “you okay?”

you nodded slowly, eyes wide, and set down your juice and sandwich. “i wanna swim.”

he frowned. “okay? now?”

you nodded and stood up. you were wearing your new bikini anyway, so you just pulled your shirt over your head and dropped your shorts next to it. “you coming?”

his eyes were slightly wide, but he nodded and stood up, setting his food down too and removing his over clothes.

you sat down on the dock and slid into the water. it was cold, but more refreshing than shocking. you swam out a few paces as luke jumped in directly, the splash hitting you.

“luke!” you gasped as he surfaced.

he just laughed. “sorry, princess. you’re in the water anyway.”

you pouted at him, but couldn’t stay mad, instead, you watched him as he floated a few feet from you.

he looked confused. “are you okay? was it the sandwich?”

you shook your head. “the sandwich was fine. i’m just…” you pursed your lips and swam slightly closer. “was it me?”

he frowned even deeper. “was what you?”

“when i asked you the other day, you said you were in love with someone. was it me?”

you felt a little bad for putting him on the spot as he looked away, abashed, but when he looked back at you, eyes strong and jaw set, and said, “yes,” you didn’t regret a thing.

“why?” you asked before you could stop yourself.

“why not?” he shrugged. “why does the sun shine? why does the wind blow? just because that’s the way things are. and i guess… yeah, me being in love with you is the way it is.”

you were silent for a moment, a small smile on your face. “well, that’s good then. i’m not sure how long this has actually been a thing, luke castellan, but i guess that me being in love with you is also… just the way it is.”

he swam slightly closer, a smile breaking across his face. gentle, kind, pretty. “yeah?”

“yeah, pretty boy. now kiss me. it’s my birthday, after all.”

“yes ma’am,” he grinned. one of his hands slid around your waist, warm as ever in the cold water, and he pulled you closer to him. he savoured the moment for a beat, just studying your face, memorising the look in your eyes, the sun on your skin and the soft smile on your lips. then he pressed his lips to yours.

you finally understood what people meant when they said ‘fireworks’. they were right. kissing luke was like playing with fire or dancing in the rain, or watching christmas lights twinkle. it was exhilarating, sweet and safe all at the same time; pure and honest love. and he was one damn good kisser.

when he pulled away you were out of breath, treading water still. you swam backwards, pulling him with you by the hand on the back of his neck until you were in the cool shade of the dock, using it to keep you afloat. it was much colder under there, but at least now you had him to keep you warm.

[roanofarcc]

IS IT CASUAL NOW?

pairing. scott miller (twisters) x fem!reader

summary. what happened between you and scott was supposed to be strictly casual, but when you feelings got too involved, you decided to call it quits. But storms and close calls have a way to bringing out true feelings. 

warnings. allusions to smut but no actual smut, suggestive language, a curse or two, injuries, reader gets hurt, medical descriptions. scott is a little bit of an asshole & a sweetheart (he’s complicated, okay?). idk how I feel about this but I’ve been writing it for what felt like forever & I needed to post it so it stops haunting me.

word count. 3.9k || masterlist

Feelings were messy; they always got in the way of things. You weren’t sure when yours changed or why, but they surely were leading you quickly toward disaster. It was supposed to be a casual thing, a no-strings-attached kind of thing. ‘Sleeping with the enemy’ wasn’t supposed to be anything more than meaningless sex in shitty motels after both of your storm-chasing teams went to sleep. And maybe that was a bit dramatic, but the Wranglers had a flare for dramatics and a hatred for Storm Par. You were caught in the mess you made, unsure of what to do. 

Scott was not the kind of man who wanted a serious relationship. He had a bad attitude and was one-track-minded. But he was just as lonely as you were, and that had quickly become a recipe for a delicious disaster. You two found yourself entangled in a strictly sex-only relationship, unknown to your two teams, enjoyed in the sanctity of midwestern motels. And for a while, the thrill of something so casual with no real stakes was exciting. 

You’d only ever had real relationships, partners you took home to meet your parents, and who bought you dinner. Scott was new territory. He was an asshole, but there was a certain charm that kept you coming back when he called you beautiful while fumbling for the zipper of your jeans or pressing soft kisses to your neck. 

Things between you two were good, but at some point, you couldn’t separate sex from feelings. It started to mean something to you. You tried to ignore it, burying it down deep in your gut, but that only worked for so long. 

Scott never stayed long; he didn’t want anyone to catch him sneaking out of your room. But you hardly ever got the chance to catch your breath before he was searching for his clothes strewn across the floor. You rolled your lips into your mouth, chest still rising and falling heavily, and grabbed your t-shirt from where it had been tossed onto the nightstand. 

“Are you guys following the storms up to Arkansas tomorrow?” he asked, falling back into himself the same way he always did. It was like the moment he stood from the bed, he snapped back into himself, stiff and work focused. 

He was a hard man to understand. You supposed you weren’t really supposed to understand him, that was the nature of your relationship. The less you knew about someone, the easier it was to not care. But you cared too much about everything and everyone. 

“Uh, yeah,” you replied, toying the itchy motel blanket between your fingers. Anxiety twisted in your gut like a storm, bringing unruly waves that flooded your chest and made it tight. “Scott?” 

He hummed in response, tugging on his shoes, not looking at you. It was a band-aid you needed to rip off, but you knew the nasty wound underneath it. You were scoffing it; you couldn’t keep it up. 

“I, um, I don’t know if I can do this anymore.” You held your breath after the words fell from your lips. You didn’t want to say it; you didn’t want to mean it, but if you spent another evening with Scott you’d be done for. Feelings for him ached inside your chest, but you had to snuff them out before they grew any more intense and left you heartbroken in the wake. Being heartbroken for someone who didn’t care much for you beyond sleeping together sounded like a nightmare. You wanted to get ahead of it; no hard feelings. 

He paused, standing up right as he put on his second shoe and furrowed his brows. “Do what?” he said, confused. 

You winced. “This,” you said, pointing between the two of you. “Us.” 

“Why?” Scott lingered by the door, crossing his arms over his chest. He wasn’t a man of many words, curt and to the point you had learned. 

You sighed, casting your gaze onto your lap. You felt small and a little embarrassed that you couldn’t separate sex from feelings. Scott seemed to do it so easily, but they were too intertwined for you. “What we have is good,” you started. “But I think I need something more…real, I guess.” 

“This isn’t real enough for you?” he asked with a raise of his brows. 

“You don’t want a relationship, right?” 

“Right,” he answered, quickly. 

“But I do.” 

Scott was quiet for a moment, his face swarming with emotions you couldn’t pinpoint before they vanished and fell back into his usual, stoic expression. “With me?” 

You smiled sadly, shaking your head even though it felt wrong, even though you were lying, a little. You knew the idea of you and Scott in a real relationship was purely fictional, completely intangible. You were probably the last person on Earth he’d want to date if he ever found himself able to look past his work. But you were soft-hearted and couldn’t help but think about it, even if it was ridiculous. 

“If we keep this up, maybe,” you tried to joke but it fell flat. “But no, I just meant in general. I don’t think I’m really cut out for this.” 

He pursed his lips, looking for a moment like he wanted to say something but decided against it and, instead, nodded slowly. “If that’s what you want.” Scott turned and grabbed the door handle, hesitating before he opened it. You tried to say goodbye, but he slipped out quickly, leaving the words lost in the quietness of your motel room. 

You sighed, falling back against your pillow and bringing your hands up to your face in frustration. You knew you had done the right thing, and it would have hurt even worse if you waited, but it still sucked. You weren’t cut out for casual. 

“Why are you so mopey?” Kate asked, sliding onto the bar stool beside you at the little dinner. You volunteered to grab everyone dinner while they worked on the truck before tomorrow’s storms. Kate followed you, picking up on the sulky attitude you had been trying to hide all day. 

You sighed, tapping the countertop and avoiding her eyes. “It’s nothin’,” you said, trying to add a hint of cheeriness to your tone but it fell flat. 

“If I tell you something, you promise not to get mad at me?” Confused, you glanced over at her. Kate was too sweet for anyone to be mad at her, you were sure of that. Besides, if anyone got mad at Kate, you were sure Tyler would wreak havoc. “Last night, I left my room to grab my phone charger from the truck and I kind of saw…” she looked over her shoulder at the diner’s company before lowering her voice into a whisper. “Scott leaving your room. That’s not why you’re mopey, is it?” 

Your groan answered her. “No one was supposed to find out.” 

She frowned. “I won’t tell, promise.” 

“It doesn’t really matter anymore, I guess.” You shouldn’t have been sad; you were the one who called it off, but it left a little crater in your chest, a stupid feeling. Scott wasn’t someone you brought home to your parents or who would buy you flowers out of the blue. He was a one-night stand kind of guy; he made snarky comments and called you and your team hillbillies. You should have felt good about your decision, but you just couldn’t. 

“We’re not seeing each other anymore,” you said. 

“Why? Did he do something stupid? Because I’ll kick his ass.” 

You smiled at her offer, tempted to take her up on it for your own sake, but it was unreasonable. “I called it off.” 

“Oh,” she said, patting you gently on the shoulder. “I’m sorry.” 

“I don’t know why I’m upset about it.” You wished you could just cross it out of your head, said and done, and wipe your hands clean of it. He was just a guy, but he was stuck on you. “We were just sleeping together; that was it. But…but I’m pathetic.” 

Kate shook her head. “You’re not pathetic; don’t talk like that. Do you…like him?” She nearly winced when she said it, like it was a painful idea even for her to swallow. Scott wasn’t some supervillain, but he was a sore spot for her best friend, Javi. The two had started Storm Par together until their butting heads finally cracked. Javi left Storm Par and joined the Wranglers along with Kate, and Scott had to pivot to fill the gap Javi left. 

“I was starting too, that’s why I called it off.” 

Kate hummed in understanding just as the waitress placed your bags of food on the counter. She helped you gather the takeout with a smile and said, “Well, we’ll just have to find you someone new. Tyler wanted to take everyone out to this bar he and team always stop at during the season. Between all of us, we’ll find you someone even better than Mr. Storm Par.” 

That didn’t sound so bad. 

Oh, but it was. You’re not sure what happened, but it seemed like every decent, single person was taken or nowhere near Arkansas. Instead, the bar was filled with couples, oddballs, and creeps. You sipped on your drink and sank down in the booth, feeling defeated. 

Kate joined you with a huff. “Sorry this turned out to be a total failure,” she said. “I don’t know what happened to all of the hot, decent, single people.” From across the booth, Tyler made a noise as he swallowed his beer and put his hands out in an ‘excuse me?’ manner. Kate smiled and shook her head. “For her,” she said, pointing to you. 

Tyler nodded in understanding. “Ah, I didn’t know you were looking.” 

You cleared your throat. “It’s, uh, a new endeavor.” Because you’d been so preoccupied with sleeping with Scott for the last couple of months, you hadn’t even thought about seeking someone else out, a real relationship. To your friends, you were simply content in your singleness, but that wasn’t the truth whatsoever. 

“Well, I don’t think you’re gonna find anyone here,” Boone said, scanning the bar. The front door opened and in poured more people. His face twisted. “Unless you wanna shack up with one of Storm Par,” he laughed and his friends around the table echoed it, aside from Kate and yourself. Instead, your eyes widened as you turned your head to follow Boone’s gaze. Into the bar walked Storm Par, still dressed in their uniforms and looking out of place. Your staring caught Scott’s eye. He held your gaze for a moment, same stoic expression until he blinked and turned his attention onto the bar as they approached it. 

On the other side of Kate, Javi hummed. “Hey, maybe they’re loosening up a bit. I don’t remember the last time Scott willing walked into a bar,” he said. 

You laughed fakely along with your friends while Kate comfortingly squeezed your hand under the table. 

You sat and drank with the Wranglers for a while, sneaking subtle glances at Scott every now and then, only to find his attention glued to the shelves of liquor behind the bar or one of his teammates. It wasn’t until the smell of smoke and the taste of beer became a little overwhelming did you slide out of the booth and excused yourself to grab some air outside. 

The nighttime air filled your lungs the second you stepped outside. You leaned against the brick exterior of the bar, gazing out into the quiet street. People passed in and out of the bar, some laughing alongside their friends, others grumbling under their whiskey-tainted breath. You hardly paid them mind, until you felt someone’s eyes on you. For a moment, a slight worry plagued you, until you turned your head and found a familiar face approaching you. 

“Hey,” you greeted Scott with a tight-lipped smile. 

He looked a little uncomfortable, his hair disheveled and uniform wrinkled from the rowdy company of the bar. He let out a breath before he said, “Hi," and joined you against the building. He left a wide gap like you were a little more than strangers but less than anything else. 

“I’m surprised to see you guys here.” 

Scott sighed, somewhere between disgruntled and mocking amusement. “Wasn’t my idea. It’s ruining my reputation as a stick in the mud.” 

You laughed despite yourself, and he met your gaze. “Oh, somebody’s got jokes now?” 

He half smiled, fixing his gaze out on the street. “I’m full of surprises.” A quiet moment passed between you two. In the fresh spring air, there was still a tension that tugged on you. It felt odd, being so close to him without either hurling jabs back and forth in the company of your teammates or kissing him while your hands roamed.

Scott cleared his throat. “You’re sure about, uh, you know, ending this?” The way he asked sounded casual like you weren’t sharing something intimate. 

You nodded until you realized he wasn’t looking at you. “Yeah,” you answered. 

He peeled himself off of the brick wall and turned toward you. A rock settled in your gut; that was why he came outside, to make sure you didn’t have a change of heart. You didn’t know why, exactly, that irritated you. Maybe a stupidly hopeful part of you thought maybe he had changed his mind and was looking for something less casual and more real. But he wasn’t. 

Then he just left, heading back inside and leaving you to blow air from your cheeks. 

The storm had blown in with a vengeance. The town was supposed to be a pit stop on your team’s and other storm chasers' way toward bigger storms developing further east, but it became the hub of a sneaky but violent front. You stumbled out of the truck and into the powerful winds that nearly knocked you up against the door you struggled to shut. 

The Wranglers looked for cover, helping some unprepared stragglers along into the nearby buildings. You made a move to follow them, but you hesitated when you saw one of Storm Par’s trucks parked alongside a sidewalk a little way down the road. One of the newest members rushed in your direction, towards the shelter, but the other person beside the truck didn’t. Scott stood there with his phone at his ear, struggling against the wind to be heard. 

You sucked in a breath before turning around, bee-lining for the building you saw the rest of the Wrangler rush into. But once you reached the doors, pulling them open for a group of people to run inside, you felt the storm grow stronger, the rain running sideways in the wind that was determined to blow over everything in its path. You weren’t sure what exactly compelled you to spare another look over your shoulder at Scott’s truck, but there was a tug on your gut that you couldn’t ignore. And when you did, your heart dropped violently. 

Scott was on the ground, pressed between the sidewalk and a mess of debris. Though it was difficult to see clearly through the rain, you were close enough to notice him struggle as the tornado loomed closer. 

It was out of instinct that you abandoned the safety of the shelter and hurried across the road. Storm chasing had created a bad habit of putting others first in dangerous weather, a need to be helpful in the wake of a disaster. 

You dodged flying debris as you crossed the distance and arrived to find Scott trying to shove a large metal ladder that must’ve come flying off the top of someone’s van. He looked a little dazed, rain in his eyes and hands cut up from where he probably tried to block the blow that came in too quickly. 

You quickly grabbed a rung and started to pull before he groaned in pain. “Shit!” he hissed, blinking away the water from his eyes to clear up his vision enough to notice you. “W-What are you doing?” he yelled above the howl of the wind. 

“What does it look like I’m doing?” you said quickly, pulling harder despite your slippery hands. The ladder was heavy, and the conditions only made it ten times harder to get it to budge, but between the two of you, you managed to shove it off of Scott. He rolled onto his side, face contorted in pain as he placed a hand on his ribs where the ladder had been pressed against. “Come on, we’ve gotta go!” You pulled him up by the arm, ignoring his groans of protest. 

The second he was standing upright, he stared at you with wide eyes and chest heaving. Your attention fell onto the sky and storm. Not thinking about much other than getting the hell out of the storm’s way, you grabbed Scott by the hand and pulled him toward the building. You moved quickly, despite whatever injuries he possessed, and were almost there when something hurled through the air. Before you could react, duck out of the way, or even attempt to avoid it, the object sliced across your forehead. 

Pain bloomed across your skin, stopping you in your tracks. You brought your hand up to your forehead. For a moment, you thought it was just rain that coated your skin, but when you pulled your hand back, it was red-coated. 

Scott tugged on your hand, his face twisted in a mix of emotions you were too dazed to read. He pulled you the rest of the way to the building. The world was a blur, a mix of colors that blood seeped into, staining your vision and making panic stretch uncomfortably inside your chest. People were gathered near the back wall, far from the windows. Scott pulled you down, his hand pressed firmly against your forehead. 

Glass exploded as the windows shattered. Everyone gasped and pressed themselves impossibly close to the back wall. The pain in your head battled your increasing panic, making it hard to breathe. 

Scott noticed, using his free hand to grip your shoulder. “It’s all right,” he said, voice unsteady. “You’re all right.” But you did feel like it. The world grew blurrier by the minute. You felt your eyes flutter against your will. The cut across your head must’ve been deep. Little black dots spotted your vision, despite your attempt to fight it. Your head dropped, falling into Scott. He kept his hand pressed against your cut and used his other to wrap around you, his own breath panicked as you fell unconscious. 

The lights were too bright when you woke up, groggy and disoriented. With a disgruntled hum, you lulled your head side to side as your eyes fluttered open. 

“Oh, thank goodness,” a voice filled your ears, light and relived. You blinked and Kate stood hovering over you with a small smile on her lips. 

“You gave us a heart attack,” Tyler said. 

“Sorry,” you managed to say, despite the dryness in your throat. “Everyone okay?” 

Kate nodded, patting the top of your hand. “The team’s all right; you were the only one who took a hit.” You wanted to ask about Scott, but Kate must’ve read your mind because she added, “Storm Par was all right too.” 

“Yeah, I think you short-circuited Mr. Robot. I’ve never seen Scott so bend out of shape after you passed out,” Tyler said, making your gut twist oddly. “He said you saved his ass.” 

You tried to sit up, but pain rippled throughout your head, causing you to wince and sink back down. Kate shot Tyler a look as if to say ‘stop talking’ and he listened. “You got a couple of stitches and a concussion. But the doctor said you should be back to feeling like yourself in a week or so.” 

With a sigh, you replied, “Great.” 

A soft knock sounded from the door. Tyler opened it and looked surprised as it swung open to reveal Scott. He looked surprised himself like he wasn’t sure he should be there. Nevertheless, he cleared his throat and offered Tyler a look that was different than his usual scowl. 

“What’d you want?” Tyler asked, but Kate quickly rushed to his side and placed a hand on his shoulder, telling him to stand down. 

“Ty, we should go find the doctor.” She turned her head back to you for confirmation that you were okay with Scott visiting, and you nodded. 

Tyler looked confused. “What-” Kate started to drag him out of the room, side-stepping Scott before she gently nudged him inside. She and Tyler disappeared into the hall, leaving you with Scott. He pulled his hand out from behind his back to reveal a small bouquet of flowers. 

“Hi,” you greeted, offering him a small smile. 

He returned it and moved to your bedside. “Hi,” he said. “How are you feeling?” 

“Like I’ve been hit in the head,” you answered honestly. There was a light throbbing behind your eyes, dulled by the medication the doctor must’ve given you while you were out. “But it’s not too bad. How are you?” 

“Besides a couple bruises, not in too bad of shape.” Scott pressed his lips together in a thin line, hesitating for a moment. “Mostly just been worried…about you.” 

A warmness filled your chest, and you were too groggy to fight it off. He was worried about you, which you should have brushed off; you had passed out on him, so it wasn’t a crazy idea. But it felt big. 

“I’m okay.” You didn’t know what else you were supposed to say. 

He placed the bouquet of flowers on the little table beside the bed. “These are for you.” 

“They’re pretty. Thank you.” 

For a moment, there was a still tension that pulled between you, like it was waiting for someone to make a tug. You felt your better judgment slip, replaced by the urge to say something you’d probably regret, but Scott beat you to it. 

“Uh, I-I know this is bad timing but if I don’t say something now, I probably won’t,” he started, much to your surprise and confusion. “I know you said you wanted to call this thing,” he pointed between the two of you. “Off. But I don’t.” 

You sighed, “But-” 

“I know,” he cut you off. “You want something real. A relationship. And I don’t. Or…I thought I didn’t. But the more I’ve been thinking about it, I like being with you. I don’t want to…not be with you. I want to be with you more, actually, not just us sleeping together. If you still want something real, then so do I.” 

You blinked, stunned by his sudden confession. The heat spread from your chest, up your neck, and to your face. “Really?” 

“Really,” he said, his lips quirking upwards in a smile that made the fluorescent lights look dim. “If I hadn’t screwed it up too much already.” 

With a quick shake of your head, you returned his grin, and his body shifted in relief. “I like being with you too.” 

“When you’re feeling better, let me take you on a real date, somewhere a hell of a lot nicer than those motels.” His hand ghosted over yours and you quickly intertwined your fingers with his before you pulled him down to your level. 

“You are full of surprises, huh?” you joked, your cheeks hurting from smiling. 

He shrugged. “I told ‘ya.” 

[dollgxtz]

His Watchful Eye Pt. 3

Word Count: 9k

Tags: yandere!sylus, sylus x fem!reader, noncon, dubcon, drugging, kidnapping, obedience training, mentions of suicide, forced breeding, forced pregnancy, stalking, pet names like kitten, sweetie, pretty, ownership, manipulation

Taglist: @ngh-ch-choso-ahhhh, @eliasxchocolate, @nozomiaj, @xmiisuki, @sylus-kitten, @its-regretti , @m0onlustre , @ve1vet-cake @letgobro @starkeysslvt, @yarafic, @prince-nikko, @leialmela

AN: It seems like these chapters just get longer and longer xDD. Hope yall don't mind! This is also on my A03 if you feel its too long to read on tumblr. Please heed the warnings and don't read this if you're sensitive to the subjects. Also! Reader has no specific skin tone, I just use images I think represent the chapter well, you can imagine her however you want! If you want to be added to the taglist please let me know, also please make sure your tumblr settings allow you to be tagged! <3

"I hate you," you whisper, your voice barely audible, muffled by his chest. The words come out broken, hollow, lacking the fire they once carried. But it’s all you can manage, the last flicker of resistance in a sea of overwhelming fatigue. "I know," Sylus replies, his voice soft and almost indulgent, as though your hatred is just another part of the game to him. He holds you tighter, his hand continuing to caress your hair. "But it doesn’t matter, sweetie. You’re mine now. Hate me all you want, I’ll still take care of you."

Read Pt 1, Pt 2, Pt 4

You ease yourself into the bath, the water just a touch hotter than you'd like, enveloping your skin in a near-burning sensation. It’s almost too much, the heat prickling at your body, but you stay still, letting the warmth slowly settle around you. Steam rises in soft, curling tendrils, and you can feel the tension in your muscles begin to release, even as the heat clings to you, almost suffocating in its intensity. Your breath catches for a moment, but soon you adjust, your body reluctantly surrendering to the soothing, yet overwhelming, embrace of the water.

Despite the searing heat, you slowly begin to lose yourself in thought. When was the last time you'd allowed yourself to truly relax since this whole nightmare began? As much as you hated to admit it, the water felt good—comforting even—offering a fleeting sense of escape. For once, your worries seemed to dissolve into the bathwater, sinking like stones to the bottom. No thoughts of impending doom, no fear lurking at the edges of your mind. Just you, the gentle bubbles, and the soft, soothing scent of cherry shampoo drifting in the steam.

And no Sylus.

Your face twists into a scowl at the very thought of him. No. This was supposed to be your time, a moment for yourself. You can’t let him invade this too. Don’t think about him, you urge yourself. Focus on the bath. Focus on the warmth. Desperate to banish any trace of him from your mind, you sink lower into the water, leaving only your nose and eyes above the surface, your breath shallow as you try to disappear beneath the heat.

But it doesn’t work. His presence lingers in your thoughts like a shadow you can't shake—the memory of his touch, his voice, the sickly sweet promises he’d whisper after those twisted "sessions."

Before you can stop yourself, you plunge fully beneath the water, submerging yourself entirely, as if you could drown his memory along with your thoughts—perhaps even drown yourself if that’s what it takes to make it all stop.

The deafening roar of water fills your ears, muffling the world around you. Instinct keeps your breath held tight, but a dark thought persisted—what would happen if you really… let go? Sylus has made it clear he has no intention of releasing you. Maybe this, right here, is your only way out.

A tightness coils in your chest as your body begins its primal fight for air. The burning need to breathe claws at your lungs, but there’s no panic—just a calm, almost eerie resolve. Slowly, deliberately, you part your lips, ready to let the water rush in. This is it. Your escape. The only freedom Sylus can't take from you.

Death.

You wonder what kind of face he would make when he would discover your barely warm body bobbing in the bath water, having escaped the clutches of his captivity in a way he could not undo.

You wished you'd be around to see it.

Just as the warm sensation of water touches the back of your throat, a sharp tingling prickles across your scalp. A second later, you're violently yanked from the water, gasping for air as the bathroom floods back into focus. You blink wildly, clearing the stinging bathwater from your eyes, only to be met by a familiar face.

"Why willingly subject yourself to waterboarding?" Sylus asks, his tone laced with disappointment, as if you’ve failed some unspoken test. You glare at him angrily, grabbing at the grip he has on your hair.

"Don't tell me I'll have to supervise your baths too?"

"Let go!" you shout, clawing at his fingers, desperately trying to free your hair from his grip. To your surprise, he does, and you quickly retreat to the far edge of the tub, pressing your back against the cool porcelain. Water clings to your skin, dripping down your face as you try to steady your breath. His eyes roam over you, calculating, as if taking in every detail. Suddenly self conscious of your naked figure, you hug your arms around your breasts. You notice, for the first time, the shopping bags dangling from his other hand. He sets them down with unnerving care before casually crossing the bathroom to grab a stool.

You watch warily as he pulls it up beside the tub, seating himself directly across from you, his eyes never leaving your face.

"I wasn’t trying to kill myself," you snap, your voice sharp as you avoid his gaze. "I’d rather not give you more reasons to watch me."

Sylus chuckles softly, clearly unfazed by your defiance, as if your words barely register. Without another glance at you, he begins rummaging through the bags at his feet, his movements methodical and unhurried. After a moment, he pulls out a small white box, and you narrow your eyes, watching as he carefully peels away the packaging. Something small and silver tumbles into his palm, catching the light.

"Nail clippers?" you ask, disbelief creeping into your voice.

He nods, then casually tugs down the collar of his shirt, revealing the jagged red scratches you had raked across his skin during the last time he had forced himself on you. The sight of them makes you smirk—small, uneven lines, but they’re there, vivid reminders that you hadn’t gone down without a fight. You can almost feel your nails digging into him again, that brief moment of satisfaction before he'd pinned you, your resistance crushed beneath his weight.

"The first step in taming an angry kitten," he muses with a grin, "is taking her claws." His voice is disturbingly light, almost playful, as he reaches out toward you.

You hesitate, staring at his outstretched hand. Your instincts scream at you to pull away, but what choice do you have? Reluctantly, you slip your hand into his, your fingers trembling ever so slightly as he curls his hand around yours. His grip is firm but not harsh, his skin warm against your own, the casual dominance in his touch making your stomach churn. He watches you closely, his gaze never wavering, as if daring you to resist.

"Isn't that called declawing?" you mutter bitterly, trying to keep your voice steady as you avert your eyes. You watch instead as he presses the clippers to your nails, the metal cool against your fingertips. The soft snip of each nail being cut echoes in the quiet bathroom, a steady, unnerving rhythm.

Sylus smirks, tilting his head as he replies, "Oh?" His tone is amused, almost mocking. "Would you rather I pull them out instead?" His voice remains calm, and you're unsure if he's joking or not.

You swallow hard, feeling the weight of his words settle over you. Each clip of the clippers feels more invasive than the last, stripping away not just your nails, but a part of yourself—your small weapon of defiance.

It struck you as odd. Just yesterday, the two of you had been locked in a bitter struggle on his bed—panting, groaning, bodies slick with sweat, fighting for entirely different goals. For him, dominance. For you, escape. And now here he was, calmly and methodically clipping your nails, the act almost tender, as if you were lovers sharing an intimate moment.

Neither of you speaks until he finishes. Sylus turns your hands over slowly, inspecting his work with the same detached precision, ensuring he’s clipped them short enough. Finally satisfied, he releases your hand, letting the clippers fall from his grasp with a metallic clatter against the bathroom floor. You frown down at the newly cut length of your nails, feeling stripped of yet another small defense.

Before you can dwell on the thought, he leans over the bath, his face inching dangerously close to yours. There's hardly any space to retreat, and you’re forced to face him, your breath catching in your throat as his presence looms over you. His lips find the soft skin of your neck, leaving light, deliberate kisses that send a shiver of tension through your body.

Sensing your stiffness, he chuckles under his breath, the sound low and familiar, before cupping your face in his hand. His fingers are firm, cradling your jaw with unnerving gentleness.

"Relax..." he whispers, brushing his lips against yours in a soft, almost teasing kiss. "I won’t do anything now. Didn’t I promise you a break?"

His words echo in your mind, bringing with them the memory of his promise from this morning. Instead of threatening you for obedience, he’d dangled a twisted form of kindness—a reward, rather than punishment. A carrot, not a stick.

Promising that if you didn't put up a fight this morning, that would be the only time he would be inside you that day.

You would have been an idiot to refuse such an offer. Almost daily assaults had left you feeling sore and exhausted. Sure, you knew he was offering you crumbs of kindness as a way to train you into obedience but you were much stronger than that. He wouldn't break you so easily.

You simply hummed and nodded in agreement, giving him a small kiss back. You had come to learn that the quicker you returned his affection, the sooner he would relent. It worked, as he almost immediately smiled and leaned back on the stool. He suddenly reaches is arm up and looks at the watch on his wrist.

"Come on out. I bought a few things for you, sweetie," Sylus says softly, his eyes drifting back to your still-exposed body. You tense instinctively, sinking lower into the water as if it could shield you from his gaze. His words may be gentle, but the weight of his attention feels oppressive, suffocating.

Sensing your discomfort, he lets out a quiet laugh. "I’ll turn around. Just don’t try drowning yourself again," he chuckles, as though reading your mind. True to his word, he turns his back to you, but the tension in the room remains thick, your heart pounding in your chest. You wish, more than anything, that he would just leave, give you a moment of peace, but you know better than to ask.

With a deep breath, you grip the edge of the tub, steadying yourself as you rise from the water. The cool air hits your skin, a stark contrast to the heat of the bath, and your wet feet make a quiet slap against the cold tile as you step out. Quickly, you reach for the white towel resting on the sink and begin to dry yourself, moving with an urgency spurred by your skepticism that Sylus will stay turned away for long.

As you dry yourself, you notice something unexpected—when you reach between your legs, your hand freezes. A slight gasp escapes your lips as you spot it: crimson streaks, trailing down your inner thigh. For a moment, you stare in disbelief, watching the droplets of blood slowly slide down your leg. Then, reality hits, and you frantically press the towel to your skin, catching the blood before it can reach the floor.

"What's wrong?" Sylus asks, his voice suddenly alert as he turns his head, catching your gasp. His eyes lock onto the bloodstained towel, his posture shifting as he steps toward you, concern etched across his face. "Are you hurt?"

You swallow hard, a strange mixture of emotions flooding through you. "My period..." you say softly, almost under your breath, but then, a smile creeps onto your face, one you can't suppress.

Relief crashes over you like a tidal wave. You’ve never been so happy to see blood in your life.

You aren’t pregnant. You aren’t pregnant.

Your mind races, the implications still sinking in. It’s not over, but for now, you’re safe. Your hands shake as you pull your gaze from the red stain, your breath coming in short, shaky bursts. Then, a creeping awareness settles in—you aren’t alone.

Sylus is standing behind you. You feel his presence before you see him, the weight of his silence pressing against you. You quickly wipe the smile from your face, the relief vanishing as you turn slowly to face him.

"My period... it’s just my period," you whisper, your voice trembling, barely able to hold steady. You try to read his face, desperate for any sign of how he’s reacting. His expression shifts—concern morphs into a frown, and then... nothing. His face goes blank, like a mask slipping into place. You search frantically for any flicker of emotion—anger, frustration, relief—but it’s as though he’s walled himself off, unreachable.

Was he angry? Disappointed? You couldn’t tell, and that terrified you. Your stomach twists in knots, anxiety bubbling up again. The relief you felt moments ago is quickly replaced by a new dread. One disaster averted, but what now?

"Right," he says calmly, his voice devoid of any warmth, as though this is just another mundane detail in his well-controlled world. He reaches for the bloodied towel in your hands, his movements smooth and deliberate, like nothing about this situation surprises him. "Don’t worry about this. Just finish dressing."

He leans down, pulling open the cabinet under the sink. Your heart skips a beat as he sets several packages of pads and tampons on the counter, each one the exact brand and size you regularly use. A cold chill runs down your spine. How long had he been watching you before bringing you here? How much does he already know? The intimate knowledge of your life, right down to your feminine products, feels like another layer of control—a calculated invasion disguised as care.

"If you don’t want to use these, I’ll have Luke and Kieran get different ones," he says, his tone disturbingly casual, as though this conversation is perfectly normal.

Your throat tightens. "No, these are fine... thank you."

He gives a slight nod, but it’s mechanical, his face still unreadable, and he turns to leave, collecting the rest of your discarded clothes from the bathroom floor. His steps are quick but unhurried, a man always in control of his actions, of everything around him. He leaves you standing there, shaken, and once again, you feel small under his gaze. Whatever he’s feeling, he’s locked it away. You’ll never know unless he decides to let you.

The door closes behind him, and you’re left alone with your thoughts—and the creeping realization that you may never be truly alone again.

After gathering enough courage to leave the bathroom, you cautiously crack open the bedroom door. You peer out, spotting Sylus lounging on the leather sofa, his eyes glued to his phone. His posture is relaxed, casual, as if nothing unusual has happened. But the moment you step into the room, he looks up—his gaze sharp, as though he’s been waiting for you.

"Took you long enough," he says, a smirk playing at his lips, amusement evident in his voice. The cold, distant air he had in the bathroom has vanished, replaced with the easy confidence you’ve come to expect. He’s back to being the Sylus you recognize, the one who shifts between charm and control like flipping a switch.

You force a smile, trying to match his casual tone. "Yeah, well, drowning myself was starting to seem tempting again," you quip, keeping your voice light. You move past him toward the bed, wanting nothing more than to put some distance between the two of you. But before you can get far, his hand shoots out, wrapping around your wrist with a gentle but firm grip. The sudden contact sends a jolt through you, freezing you in place.

His touch isn’t rough, but there’s something in it that holds you captive, a subtle reminder of the power he holds. You glance down at his hand, then back up at him, unsure whether to pull away or let him guide the moment.

"Are you hungry?" he asks, his voice soft now, almost concerned. But the question hangs in the air, heavier than it should be.

"Oh! Uh... yeah?" you stammer, your voice barely above a whisper. As much as you wanted to ignore him and crawl into bed, the thought of food was too tempting to resist. Sylus stands, his grip on your wrist still firm, tugging you toward the bedroom door.

Your heart skips a beat as you watch him press his finger against the scanner beside the door. Why is he letting you this close? The lock hums and with a soft click, the door swings open. You stare at it, a thousand questions racing through your mind.

He turns back to you, his playful demeanor from moments ago evaporating in an instant, replaced by something darker, colder. His eyes lock onto yours, and suddenly, the atmosphere feels suffocating.

"Behave," he says, his voice low and serious. "Don’t wander off without me, and if you try anything... you won’t leave this room or the bed for weeks. Understood?"

The threat in his words chills you to your core. You're frozen in place, trying to process what’s happening. Is this real? Are you dreaming? Why now? The door stands open before you, a symbol of freedom, but it feels more like a trap, a carefully laid test. The air between you crackles with tension. One wrong move, and you know there will be consequences.

You shake your head quickly, pushing aside any fleeting thoughts of rebellion. Not now. Not yet.

Trying to break the moment, you turn your gaze toward the unopened bags still sitting in the corner of the room. "Didn’t you say you bought me some stuff?" you ask, your voice tentative, eyes flicking toward the bags. "I’m curious about what’s in them."

Anything to steer the conversation away from the potential threat.

"It’s okay, you can look at them later" Sylus says, his voice smooth and reassuring as he swings the door open wider. The invitation seems casual, but there’s something unsettling about how easily he offers it. His hand loosens slightly around your wrist, though he doesn’t let go completely, as if to remind you that the freedom he's offering has limits.

Your eyes flick from the open door to his face, searching for any hint of what’s really going on. His expression is calm, almost too calm, as if he’s in complete control of the situation, confident that you won’t dare make a move without his permission. The open door, the promise of something beyond this room, suddenly feels less like an escape and more like a stage he's set for you.

Every instinct in your body screams that this isn’t as simple as it looks. It’s a test, another subtle power play to remind you where you stand. The reassurance in his voice only deepens the pit in your stomach. He’s letting you out, but on his terms.

You force a nod, trying to swallow the growing unease. "Okay," you murmur, though the word feels foreign in your mouth, like you’re agreeing to something you don’t fully understand.

Sylus smiles—a small, practiced curve of his lips, but his eyes remain unreadable. He steps aside, making room for you to pass, yet the tension in the air doesn’t dissipate. It lingers, wrapping itself around you like a noose tightening with every step you take toward the door.

As you step cautiously past the threshold, the hallway beyond the door reveals a world of striking opulence. The air feels cooler, heavier, carrying the scent of leather and polished stone. Beneath your bare feet, the floor is a dark, sleek tile, almost black, with a high gloss that catches the low light and reflects distorted, shadowy images of the surroundings. Each step echoes slightly, the subtle tap of your feet magnified by the smooth surface, giving the space a cavernous, eerie quality.

The walls are a deep, charcoal black, lined with intricately carved molding that runs up to the high, coffered ceilings. Elegant sconces along the walls cast pools of soft, amber light, their glow bouncing off the glossy tiles, adding an extra layer of depth to the room. The lighting is deliberately dim, creating an atmosphere of perpetual twilight, where shadows stretch and warp across the dark floor, leaving certain corners cloaked in deeper darkness.

To your left, a grand staircase spirals down, its wrought iron railings twisting in elaborate, almost gothic designs. The banister is polished ebony, gleaming faintly in the soft light, while the steps are lined with a deep, crimson runner that stands in stark contrast to the black tiles, offering a rare touch of softness amid the cold, hard surfaces. The staircase seems to descend endlessly, vanishing into shadows that hint at more hidden secrets below.

Expensive art lines the walls—large, dark oil paintings that seem impossibly old, their subjects watching with melancholy or judgment. The frames are thick, gilded with gold, though their luster is muted with age. Between the paintings, mirrors with heavy, ornate frames reflect fragments of the space, but never enough to give you a full view—only glimpses, distorted by the interplay of light and shadow.

Despite the mansions undeniable beauty, there’s a coldness that seeps through the dark tile, a chill that seems to rise from the floor itself. Every detail, from the smooth tile to the velvet drapes, feels curated and perfect, yet it lacks any warmth or comfort. The space feels like a cage disguised in luxury—beautiful, yes, but suffocating in its grandiosity.

"Kitchen is downstairs" Sylus says, nodding in their direction. You quietly make a mental note of everything as you descend. This is your chance to map out the house, make a potential escape route. Even if Sylus was close behind, you shouldn't waste this opportunity gawking at everything. So he's filthy rich, so what?

Your eyes flit from the deep shadows that pool in the corners of the hall to the heavy drapery that conceals what’s outside. Every window, every door, every hallway could be a potential escape route if you ever get the chance. You tell yourself to remember where they are, how the house is laid out. A plan begins to form in the back of your mind, hazy but determined. One way or another, you’ll need to know this place inside and out.

Each step down the staircase feels like a test, a countdown of sorts. The further you go, the deeper you descend into Sylus’s world. The weight of his gaze makes it hard to breathe, but you know you can’t falter now. You keep your pace steady, your face expressionless, pretending that this is just a simple walk down the stairs, but inside, your thoughts race. Every second counts, and you’re not going to let this moment slip away unnoticed.

The rich, savory smell of roasted chicken invades your senses as you reach the last step, filling the air with an unexpected warmth. The faint crackle of fire and the clattering of pans echo from the nearby kitchen, the sounds weaving into the dark, quiet luxury of the house. It’s a stark contrast to the cold, empty grandeur surrounding you—this small slice of normalcy, of life. But the moment feels fragile, like it could break at any second.

Your foot barely touches the last step when Sylus’s hands clamp down on your shoulders. The sudden contact sends a jolt of fear through your body, your heart lurching as you instinctively jump.

"You’re jumpy," he says softly, his voice smooth but carrying a hint of amusement, as though your fear is entertaining to him. The warmth of the kitchen clashes with the cold tension between you, and the contrast makes the moment feel surreal.

Sylus guides you away from the comforting noises of the kitchen, leading you into a room that exudes the same dark, expensive elegance as the rest of the house. The atmosphere shifts as you step into the space—less intimate, more like a showpiece designed to impress rather than to live in. It’s reminiscent of a living room, though everything feels just a little too perfect, too polished.

Your eyes widen as a massive flatscreen TV comes into view, its size nearly absurd against the backdrop of rich, dark wood paneling and plush furniture. "Huh? I didn’t know they made TVs this big..." you whisper, the words slipping out before you can stop them. The screen is so large, it feels more like a home theater than a living room—something you’d only expect to see in movies or magazines. While the Hunter's Association paid you well, this level of luxury was foreign to you, something you'd never even considered owning.

Sylus follows your gaze to the screen, his expression unreadable. "Is something wrong with it? Too big? I can have it downsized," he offers casually, though his eyes search yours intently, as if he’s genuinely concerned about your comfort. His suggestion catches you off guard, and you cock your head in confusion. Why would he even suggest such a thing?

"No! It’s fine," you say quickly, shaking your head, still baffled by his willingness to adjust even something so extravagant for you. "I’ve just never seen one this huge."

Sylus nods, seemingly satisfied with your response, and motions toward the sofa. "Sit," he says, his tone soft but commanding. The sofa is deep, covered in smooth leather, and it practically swallows you when you lower yourself onto it.

He wastes no time sitting next to you, checking his watch again. You fiddle nervously beside him, feeling out of place in such a space. First he lets you out of his room for the very first time in weeks, and now the both of you are sitting on the couch casually as if this was routine.

You desperately wished you could tell what he was thinking.

"Chef should be done in a few minutes" Sylus said, interrupting your anxious thoughts. He tenderly intertwines his fingers with yours, lifting your hand up to press a soft kiss against your knuckles. His gaze is unwavering as he looks at you.

Your gaze shifts, briefly breaking away from his piercing eyes, and lands on a shelf in the corner of the room behind him. Something there catches your attention—an old, meticulously cared-for record player. Its polished surface gleams in the low light, a relic of a different time. It’s beautiful in its simplicity, standing out against the modern opulence surrounding it. You wonder briefly about its significance. Why something so old in a house filled with the latest luxuries?

But the question fades as Sylus’s thumb gently strokes your hand, pulling your focus back to him. He's being tender right now, and feeling bold, you start talking.

"I didn't think the leader of Onychinus would live in such a grand place" you say calmly, eyeing his reaction. Instead of anger of irritation, he simply smiles as if he already realized you had figured out his identity.

"Oh? What were you thinking then?"

"Well...I figured you would be in hiding" you say plainly, gritting your teeth a bit. "This place is pretty easy to spot. Lots of hiding places too."

Sylus chuckles as if you just told him something funny. "Sweetie nothing gets in or out of this place without me knowing, that's hardly a worry"

You mentally curse yourself. Of course he has cameras. Why wouldn’t he? A man like Sylus would never leave anything to chance, especially not in a place like this. Escaping wouldn’t be as simple as memorizing the layout of the house. You’d have to make it past the cameras, the eyes constantly watching, recording every move. The realization makes your stomach sink. Even your thoughts of escape feel smaller, less attainable now.

The air grows thick with the scent of steam and roasted chicken as a figure appears around the corner. The chef, an older man with deep-set lines in his face, moves with quiet precision. He says nothing as he places an exquisite spread of chicken and side dishes on the table in front of you. Everything looks impossibly perfect—the golden-brown skin of the chicken, the vibrant vegetables, the delicately arranged plates. It’s the kind of meal you might see in a restaurant you could never afford, yet it feels out of place here, too refined and elegant for the suffocating tension in the room.

The chef doesn’t speak, not a word, but he gives a small nod in Sylus’s direction before quietly retreating from the room. His presence, brief and silent, only adds to the strange, controlled atmosphere. You find yourself wondering if he knows—if he’s aware of the twisted dynamic at play here—or if he’s just another piece of the puzzle that makes up Sylus’s meticulously crafted world.

For a moment, you think about the cameras again. They’re watching, just like Sylus. Always watching. You force yourself to focus on the meal, trying not to give away the panic bubbling beneath your calm exterior. You smile faintly, but your mind races with the next hurdle: it’s not just about getting out of the house, it’s about getting out unseen.

Sylus glances at you, his hand still resting on yours. "Eat," he says softly, his voice smooth but with an edge of command beneath it. The invitation sounds pleasant, but you know better. This isn’t a request.

You nod, swallowing hard, a knot of anxiety tightening in your throat. You start with the green beans, methodically chewing, your mind already strategizing. Green beans—protein and energy for running. Every bite, every move from here on out has to be deliberate, with purpose. Escaping this place was never going to be easy, but now it feels even more impossible. Still, you cling to the idea that preparation is key. You’ll need your strength for when the time comes.

As you chew, you glance at Sylus and notice something unsettling. He hasn’t touched his plate. His gaze is fixed on you, watching, as if he’s waiting for something. The unease that had been simmering beneath the surface now starts to bubble up. You meet his eyes, silently questioning why he’s not eating. He smiles tenderly.

"I’ll be tracking your ovulation window from now on," he says casually, as though he were discussing the weather. "Since you’ve gotten your first period since staying here, now would be a good time to start."

The words hit you like ice water, chilling you to the core. You freeze, your fork halting mid-air as the meaning of what he said sinks in. The casualness of his tone, the way he drops such a personal, invasive statement into the conversation as if it’s nothing, leaves you reeling. He’s watching you, gauging your reaction, his smile lingering in the same unsettling way.

The room, with all its lavish furnishings and exquisite food, suddenly feels more like a cage than ever. It’s not just about being physically trapped anymore—it’s the knowledge that even your body is under his control. He’s tracking you, monitoring the most intimate parts of your life. Any illusion of autonomy shatters, leaving only the cold reality of how deeply he intends to dominate every aspect of your existence.

You force yourself to swallow the bite in your mouth, your heart pounding in your chest. Stay calm, you tell yourself. Don’t react. Not yet.

"That won't guarantee a baby" you retort, trying your best to hide a scowl. You know you’re pushing him, testing the boundaries, but the words slip out before you can stop them. The shift in his expression is immediate. The amusement that once danced in his eyes evaporates, replaced by something darker, more calculated.

His face contorts into a deep frown, the muscles in his jaw tightening as he processes your defiance. For a moment, he says nothing, and the air between you feels charged, thick with unspoken tension.

"Maybe not the first time," he starts slowly, his voice dropping a notch, finally picking up his own fork. His tone is calm, but there’s a cold edge to it, like he’s already several steps ahead in whatever twisted game he’s playing. "Or the second time."

He takes a deliberate bite, chewing slowly, his eyes never leaving yours, as if daring you to interrupt. After what feels like an eternity, he swallows and leans back against the sofa, his gaze sharp and unrelenting.

"But it will eventually."

The words hang in the air, a dark promise. His voice is measured, controlled, but beneath the surface, you can feel the underlying threat. Sylus isn’t just talking about biology; he’s making it clear that he will keep trying, over and over again, until he gets what he wants. The casual way he says it, as if it’s inevitable, sends a shiver down your spine.

The words settle in your mind, their dark implications unfurling like a slow, creeping poison. You can’t take it anymore—the calm, the control, the endless power games. Something inside you snaps. The fear, the careful restraint you’ve held onto for weeks, crumbles all at once. Before you can stop yourself, you slam your fist down onto the table, the sharp clatter of silverware echoing through the room.

"Do you even hear yourself?" you shout, your voice shaking with rage. "You think this is some sick game? You can’t just… you can’t control my body like that! You can't just—" Your voice breaks, the dam of emotions bursting wide open. "You think you can force this? That you can just keep me here, like I’m some… some breeding stock? Like I don’t have a say in my own life?"

Your breath comes in short, ragged bursts, your heart pounding in your ears. The words are spilling out now, unstoppable. "You think tracking my ovulation, making your plans—doing whatever sick family fantasy thing you have in mind—is going to work? You have no right! No right to decide what happens to me, no right to decide my future for your delusions!"

Sylus's fork clatters back onto his plate, his face blank at first, but the tension in the air is palpable. He doesn’t interrupt, just watches as you lose control, like he’s waiting for something—maybe for you to exhaust yourself, maybe for you to break down entirely. But you don’t care anymore.

"You’re insane!" you spit, your voice cracking as the emotions surge, unstoppable now. "This whole place—this whole twisted world of yours—it’s a prison. Do you even get that? It doesn’t matter how much money you throw at it, how many things you control, it’ll never make you anything but a monster!"

The words hang in the air, trembling with the rawness of your outburst. Your chest heaves, your hands shaking uncontrollably. You’re on the verge of tears, but you refuse to let them fall. Not in front of him. Not now.

"I'll kill myself before any child of yours ever calls me mom" you say, your words ringing through the still and quiet mansion.

Sylus’s expression shifts, the mask of calm slipping ever so slightly. His eyes narrow, and his lips press into a thin, tight line. For a moment, the room feels like it’s holding its breath. Then, as if something in him cracks open, he smiles. A slow, unnerving grin spreads across his face, the darkness in his eyes momentarily replaced by something even more disturbing—amusement.

You stare at him, dumbfounded, trying to process the sudden shift in his demeanor. The anger you had expected never comes. Instead, a low chuckle rumbles from his chest, growing louder, filling the room with an eerie echo that makes your skin crawl.

"Are you done with your little tantrum, kitten?" he coos, his voice dripping with condescension. The way he says "kitten" sends a shiver down your spine, the pet name laced with eerie sweetness. Without warning, he reaches out, gripping your wrist with an unsettling gentleness, pulling you toward him with ease.

Before you can react, he yanks you down onto his lap, forcing you to straddle him. Your body stiffens, the weight of him beneath you both unsettling and humiliating. You feel trapped, like prey ensnared in a hunter’s grasp. His arm wraps around your waist, locking you in place. You try to pull away, but his hold is unyielding.

"Poor thing," he murmurs, his voice soft but taunting as his fingers trail lazily up your back, "you’re just a little ball of anger, aren’t you?" His smile widens as his hand slides into your hair, gently tugging it, controlling even the smallest movements. You feel the tension in your body spike, but any resistance you try to muster is immediately swallowed by the cold reality of his control.

"You know," he continues, his tone light, almost playful, as if you weren’t just screaming at him moments ago, "I could let you keep fighting me. Let you wear yourself out like a kitten clawing at something it can’t catch." He chuckles again, his fingers tightening in your hair, forcing your head to tilt just enough so that you have no choice but to meet his gaze. His eyes, dark and unreadable, lock onto yours with a frightening intensity.

"But we both know how this ends, don’t we?" he whispers, his voice dropping into something dangerously low. His smile never fades, but the amusement in his eyes sharpens into something cruel. "You’ll tire yourself out. You always do."

A whimper escapes your lips as his grip tightens in your hair, the pressure mounting to the point where it’s impossible to hold back any longer. The tears you’ve fought so desperately to contain now spill freely, streaking down your cheeks. Your body trembles as the emotional dam breaks, the fear, frustration, and helplessness flooding out all at once.

Sylus notices. His expression shifts, softening in a way that feels strange. The cruel amusement that once gleamed in his eyes fades, replaced by something disturbingly gentle. He loosens his grip on your hair, letting his fingers glide down to your cheek. His thumb brushes away the hot tears, wiping them tenderly.

"Don’t cry pretty girl," he murmurs, his voice a quiet coo. The gentleness in his tone feels like a strange juxtaposition to the fear still gripping your chest. His other hand slides down to cradle your face, keeping you close, but no longer with the same force. "It’s okay. I promised I’d take care of you, didn’t I?"

He presses soft kisses on your lips as they tremble and you just let him, the weight of the situation crashing on you. "Just take my cum and have my baby, I'll take care of everything else. Doesn't that sound easy?"

You jerk your head away from him at the mere thought of him impregnating you.

He turns your head back towards him, his lips pressing a soft kiss against your tear-streaked cheek, the touch almost reverent. The sensation makes your skin crawl, the tenderness a cruel mockery of the power he so clearly holds over you. You want to pull away, but his hands keep you there, gently holding you in place as if to soothe the very tears he caused.

His lips move to your hand, kissing your tear-stained fist, as though he’s trying to console you after making you break down. The gesture feels wrong, every soft touch an extension of his control masquerading as care. He’s not only comforting you out of kindness and love but he’s reminding you that even your pain belongs to him, that he can take you to the brink of despair and then pull you back whenever he pleases.

"You can scream, you can break my things, you can throw tantrums, but in the end..." His voice lowers, chillingly calm. "You’re still mine. You still belong to me. Your anger? It’s nothing. It won’t change anything."

The room feels smaller now, his words wrapping around you like a vice, tightening with every breath. You can’t breathe, can’t think, the weight of the situation crashing down on you all over again.

"And as for your outburst..." he says, his lips curling into a faint smile. "It will have consequences."

Your body trembles as his thumb brushes away another tear, his touch tender, almost soothing. And despite the revulsion that twists in your stomach, despite every fiber of your being screaming at you to push him away, you don’t.

You can’t.

You’re just so exhausted.

Without even realizing it, you lean into him, your body betraying your mind. The weight of your exhaustion is unbearable, and the fight you’ve held onto for so long begins to slip through your fingers like sand. Your head rests against his chest, the steady rise and fall of his breathing providing a sick sort of comfort that you hate yourself for needing.

He holds you gently, his arm wrapping around your waist, securing you against him as though he’s protecting you. The irony is suffocating. This man, who has twisted your world into a living nightmare, is now the one offering you comfort. And as much as you despise him for it, for the control he wields over you, you sink deeper into his embrace, desperate for the warmth and the momentary relief from your own anguish.

"There you go," he murmurs softly, his fingers stroking your hair in long, calming motions. "See? It’s not so bad, is it?"

The words cut, each one a reminder of the power he holds over you, but you’re too drained to care anymore. The anger, the defiance, the hatred—it’s all still there, burning under the surface, but right now, the only thing you can feel is the weight of your own exhaustion pulling you down, dragging you into a state of reluctant surrender.

"I hate you," you whisper, your voice barely audible, muffled by his chest. The words come out broken, hollow, lacking the fire they once carried. But it’s all you can manage, the last flicker of resistance in a sea of overwhelming fatigue.

"I know," Sylus replies, his voice soft and almost indulgent, as though your hatred is just another part of the game to him. He holds you tighter, his hand continuing to caress your hair.

"But it doesn’t matter, sweetie. You’re mine now. Hate me all you want, I’ll still take care of you."

You hate him for saying it. You hate him for making you feel like you need him. But in this moment, you’re too tired to fight him. You allow yourself to collapse into the illusion of safety, just for a little while, even though you know it’s a trap.

You wake to the sensation of being moved, cradled like you’re something fragile. It’s disorienting at first, and for a brief, blissful moment, you don’t remember where you are. But then the cold reality slams into you.

Sylus.

Your eyes flicker open, and through the haze of sleep, you realize he’s carrying you. His arms are steady, but the feel of his hold sends a chill down your spine. You try to shake off the drowsiness, to push yourself upright, but your limbs feel weak and uncooperative.

"Shh," he whispers, his voice gentle, though it only makes the situation worse. "Go back to sleep. You’re safe."

Safe. The word rings hollow in your mind. You know better. Even though his touch is soft and careful, even though his voice is low and comforting, you know exactly where you are—exactly who holds you.

Your heart sinks as you hear the faint whirr of a door opening. He’s taking you back to the room, the one where you’ve spent so many weeks locked away, trapped. A lump forms in your throat as you realize what’s happening, but you’re too weak to fight it. You had a brief taste of freedom, even if it was a twisted version of it, but now he’s putting you back in your cage.

Sylus steps into his room, the dim light casting long shadows over the dark, lavish space. He moves with deliberate care, like he’s handling something precious, lowering you onto the bed with a gentleness that feels grotesque in its contrast to what he’s actually doing.

Your body sinks into the mattress, your limbs too heavy to lift. You manage a weak protest, a soft whimper of resistance, but he shushes you again, his hand brushing the side of your face with infuriating tenderness.

"Sleep, kitten. You need your rest."

He moves to the door, and you hear the unmistakable sound of the lock. The finality of it sends a fresh wave of despair through you. You’re back in the same room, the same prison, despite the moments of fragile comfort you had shared. It all meant nothing. You’re still his prisoner.

You turn your face into the pillow, tears pricking at your eyes once more, but you’re too drained to cry again. Your body aches, your mind is foggy, and sleep still tugs at you, relentless in its pull. You hate that you find any sense of comfort in the bed, in the quiet, but there’s no fight left in you tonight.

With the sound of the lock still echoing in your mind, you close your eyes and let yourself slip back into unconsciousness, knowing that tomorrow, nothing will have changed.

You wake suddenly, gasping for air, your skin slick with sweat. The sheets are tangled around your legs, suffocatingly warm. For a moment, you think it's just another nightmare—the kind that leaves you feeling claustrophobic and panicked—but the heat in the room is real, heavy, and stifling.

You sit up slowly, blinking in the darkness, your breath coming in shallow gasps. Something feels off. The usual low hum of electricity, the steady whir of the ceiling fan, the soft glow of electronics—they’re all gone. Silence presses down around you, and the air in the room feels thick and still, almost oppressive.

The power’s out.

It hits you slowly at first, like a distant thought struggling to surface. The heat, the silence... no fan, no lights. And then it clicks. The power’s out. The fingerprint scanner.

Your heart skips a beat, adrenaline spiking through your veins. No power means the security system that’s kept you locked in this room—trapped and helpless—is down. The scanner on the door, the one that’s monitored your every movement, is dead. It has to be.

This could be your only chance.

You stumble out of bed, your legs shaky, still groggy from sleep but jolted awake by the rush of adrenaline. Your hands tremble as you feel your way to the door in the dark, the oppressive heat clinging to your skin. The room is suffocating, the air too thick to breathe, but none of that matters now.

You press your thumb against the scanner, holding your breath. Nothing happens. The small screen remains black, unresponsive. It’s not working.

A flicker of hope flares in your chest. The lock isn’t powered. You press your palm against the door and push, feeling it give under your hand. Slowly, carefully, you ease the door open just a crack and peer out into the hallway.

The corridor is bathed in shadow, darker than when you last saw it. The ambient lights, the security monitors, everything is dead. The house is eerily still, the silence even more unnerving than before. You step into the hallway, your heart racing as you move forward, each step deliberate and cautious.

For a brief, terrifying moment, you expect to hear Sylus’s voice, or the sound of footsteps approaching from behind, but the house remains quiet. You know he has Luke and Kieran stationed somewhere, but for now, the way seems clear.

You make your way toward the grand staircase, remembering some parts of the house from earlier. The front door is just ahead, at the bottom of the stairs. The hallway stretches before you, dark and endless, but your pulse quickens with the possibility of freedom.

You take a breath and descend the stairs as quietly as possible, gripping the banister for balance. Each creak of the wood beneath your feet feels deafening in the stillness. Your eyes dart around the hallway, searching the shadows for any sign of movement.

Finally, you reach the bottom of the stairs. The front door looms ahead, and you move toward it, the air growing cooler as you get closer. Your hand reaches for the door handle, and just as your fingers brush the cool metal, you freeze.

Voices.

You hear them—low, muffled voices coming from outside the door. Sylus’s men.

"Shit, powers out. We gotta start the generators."

Your heart sinks. They're right outside. You cant go this way without immediately being manhandled.

You glance around frantically, your mind racing for another way out. The house is massive, full of rooms and corridors, but you have no idea where the other exits lead. Still, you can’t afford to stand here and think—you need to move.

Then you remember. The kitchen. Maybe there's a way out there?

It’s a long shot, but you don’t have any other options. You turn quickly, darting down the hallway, your footsteps light and deliberate on the smooth, black tile. The shadows seem to stretch and twist around you, and every small creak feels like it’s echoing through the silence. You try to keep calm, but the fear of being caught wraps tighter around your chest with every passing second.

You reach the kitchen, and the oppressive heat of the house seems to lessen as you step inside. The room is large and dark, no light to be seen through the windows. The scent of stale food lingers in the air, remnants of a meal long forgotten, but you barely notice it. Your eyes dart to the side door.

It’s small, barely noticeable in the corner of the room, half-concealed behind shelves and cabinets. The door leads out to the horse racing track—you remember Sylus mentioning it in conversation once.

You rush toward the door, your pulse thundering in your ears. You reach for the handle, your hand trembling as it wraps around the cool metal. For a brief moment, you fear it’ll be locked, that this last chance at freedom will slip through your fingers.

Thankfully, with a twist and a click it opens.

The space beyond the kitchen is nothing like you expected—no trees, no breeze, just the harsh, cold landscape of the N109 zone. The dark, black midnight sky looms over you like an oppressive blanket, thick and unwelcoming. No stars, no moonlight, just an endless void stretching above you. The air is still and stale, a reflection of the lifelessness surrounding you.

But you have no time to process any of it. You can’t stop now. You have to keep moving.

Your feet press into the cracked, uneven ground as you forge ahead, your breath shallow and quick. As you walk, the outline of several horse stables comes into view. The structures are dark, the animals inside unmoving, their silhouettes barely visible in the low light. Thankfully, the horses are all asleep. None stir as you pass by quietly, your body tense and ready to bolt at the slightest sound. The only thing you hear is the quiet crunch of your own footsteps on the rough surface beneath you.

Ahead, a tall fence looms in the distance, a final obstacle standing between you and the outer edges of the N109 zone. You approach it cautiously, your heart pounding in your chest as you study its height. It’s rusted and worn, but still sturdy enough to make the climb difficult. You don’t have time to think—you have to act.

Gripping the cold metal tightly, you heave yourself up, your muscles straining with each movement. Your hands slip slightly, the rough texture of the fence biting into your palms as you scramble to find footing. Panic flares briefly in your chest, but you grit your teeth and push through the fear. You can’t stop now.

Just as you manage to get a decent grip, you hear it—the unmistakable hum of power returning. Behind you, Sylus’s mansion springs to life. Lights flicker on in the distance, illuminating the cold, empty halls that only moments ago were shrouded in darkness. The power’s back. It won’t be long before they notice you’re gone. They’ll be coming for you.

It’s now or never.

With a final burst of strength, you haul yourself up the last few feet of the fence, your breath coming in ragged gasps. The metal digs into your skin, but you don’t care. You pull yourself over the top, balancing precariously for a moment before launching yourself over.

You crash onto the other side, landing face-first on the hard, unforgiving ground. Pain shoots through your body as your knees and elbows scrape against the jagged surface, but you don’t let it stop you. You’ve come too far to be caught now.

For a moment, you lie there, dazed and gasping for breath, the shock of the impact making your head spin. The cold ground beneath you feels like both a punishment and a reminder that you’re not free yet. Behind you, you can hear the faint sounds of activity from the mansion—the twins moving, footsteps echoing in the distance.

They know.

Ignoring the pain, you force yourself to your feet, your body protesting with every movement. The fence looms behind you like a dark sentinel, separating you from the life you’re fleeing. You don’t dare look back at the mansion, don’t give yourself the chance to second-guess your next move.

You start running.

The landscape ahead is bleak and dark, with nothing but cold, cracked streets in every direction. There’s no breeze, no noise apart from your labored breathing and the pounding of your feet against the ground. A few tall and bleak buildings reminiscent of a part of a city come into view. You start making your way there.

You’re outside. You’re running. And for the first time in what feels like forever, the possibility of freedom is real, even if it’s still far out of reach.

In the distance, perched on a dead landline, a mechanical crow preens its feathers. Its head jerks toward a running girl, its red eyes locking onto her figure. Without warning, it spreads its metal wings and takes off in her direction, gears whirring as it follows from above.

[temiizpalace]

☆┊I SWEAR I ONLY FELL FOR YOU ON ACCIDENT..

SUMMARY: he never meant to develop feelings for you, and seven are these overwhelming feelings doing things to him.

CHARACTERS: leona, jade, jamil

GENRE: fluff

WARNINGS: cursing, CRINGE, spoilers for book 3!!!

ROMANTIC, PINING

NOTES: (kind of) based off this song + flustering boys who pretend to not be flustered ever + lyrics in fic not in order

reader is g/n, reader is yuu

🦁┊LEONA KINGSCHOLAR

“one time you crossed my mind and i promised id be careful”

he would have never expect his feelings to be like this after your first encounter.

the hostility he held towards you, he should’ve warded you away. yet you kept coming back. talking to him all buddy buddy.. it was admirable from the eyes of others. if he would’ve known better he would think you saw him as a large house cat (you do). well guess what, he ain’t.

at the start, he thought of you as nothing but a huge nuisance and thorn in his side in this already bothersome school. but after seeing your courageous news during azul’s overblot, he’s got a newfound respect for ya.

everything was fine from then. you’d bother him occasionally, and he’d allow you to bask in his presence. what? did you expect something else? well you’re wrong. but these moments have kickstarted some brand new fantasies for our beloved prince to indulge in.

it started off normally, he’s napping peacefully as you read a book next to him, giving him an occasional glance or two before focusing on the piece of literature in your hands. as we know, dreams can range in a wide variety of things. some can be absolutely blissful, some are really random, and others are just straight up nightmares!!

now, leona had no idea where to classify this one.

he walks into his room after finishing some duties concerning the kingdoms wellbeing.. being king is no easy task. “back already? that was quick.” your voice rang in his ears as he tossed the choking royal garbs to the side, making way to curl up in your lap. “can’t stand these people..” he murmured into your stomach, making you smile. you play with his hair, making an occasional braid or two before pausing. “hmph, why’d ya stop?” you lift his chin, looking him in the eyes. “i’m helping you de-stress.” suddenly, he feels pulled closer to your face, your lips barely ghosting each other til finally—

leona sits up quickly in a sweat, startling you as he emerged from the ground. what the fuuuucckkkk was that????? “ah, leona? are you okay?” you ask, concerned as to how quick he was to wake up. usually it’d take 10 minutes to get him out of a daze! “fine.” he grunts, getting up and walking towards the mirror hall.

“uhh, where ya going?” no response. he seemed grumpy, but you had no idea why. did you do something? nahhh, probably just typical leona. ..right?

you’ve noticed he’s been avoiding you a lot more lately. he will not respond when you say hi to him in the halls, will just up and leave if you see him in the botanical gardens, and will walk in the opposite direction of you just so you don’t have to cross paths.

now you’re concerned. was he mad at you? to put it simply, yes and no. yes because why are you occurring in his dreams???? are you crazy???? smh. get out. he’s the one dreaming but ok

yet no because, he’s no fool. he knows when he’s in love and unfortunately for him, this is love. you don’t understand how much he’s tossing and turning in his room because literally every gap in his head is filled up with thoughts of you, how much this aggravates him because he can’t get adequate amounts of sleep anymore. your fault!!!

he wanted to avoid you like the plague for at least a month to let these feelings wash over, but to no avail. someone just kill him and bury the body he’s hopeless. he cannot wait to be found six feet underground because feeling like this for a magicless human was the last thing he wanted.

that’s it, he’s never gonna tell ya. ever. just him and his thoughts. yep. mhm. yeah.. you’d look really nice in formal attire—AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

he wants to scream but the best he can do is make a cringing face. how the hell do you make him so sappy??? this love stuff stinks… how could you do this to him?

🐬┊JADE LEECH

“one spark, you jump my heart and i feel it beating faster. yeah, it’s too late, im not ashamed.”

ah, love. something jade believed he’d never experience.

from the moment his eyes met yours, he’s always felt a twisting feeling in his chest. how peculiar.. to be fair, from afar you were quite bland to him. just another pawn and source of intel.

but then word began to get out you stopped two overblots, catching his interest. really? a magicless human? now he’s just dying to meet you.. and thank the seven he did. you had him the moment you spoke, your voice causing his heartbeat to speed up rapidly.

after azul’s overblot, though? jade is nothing but head over heels for you. without shame. he’s practically glued to your side, walking you to and from classes almost every day without fail, somehow always being your waiter whenever you ate at the mostro lounge, always having a hand on your back or shoulder.. huh.

it’s clear to anyone with half a brain that the leech twin definitely saw you more than merchandise, making them even more afraid to speak with you! whenever you were jade was like 2 feet behind.

only recently have you started to notice this. so, you’ll do what any normal person would do. ask him about it!

“hey, jade.” the eel-mer looks at you, an eyebrow raised with a polite smile. “is something the matter, prefect?” he asks, his demeanor the same as ever. “just wondering, but why’re you always around me? im not annoyed or anything! just.. just curious.” you stated quite bluntly, catching the boy off guard.

you could’ve sworn you saw him freeze with eyes wide, but the ability he has to rebuild his facade was impeccable. he pretends to think about it holding his chin before chuckling. “i suppose.. i just enjoy your company.” he smiles as you suddenly feel like an arrow was shot riiigghhttt through your heart.

“haha, really?” you laugh nervously, feeling the heat in your face flush to your cheeks as he stared you down with glee. before jade was able to respond, he was cut off by the sudden sincerity in your voice. “i enjoy your company too, jade.” you smile back at him, a sudden awkward silence falling before you.

“a-anyway, this is my class! gotta go! bye!” running inside the classroom, you try to hide the very obvious warmth in your face with your hands. THAT WAS SO CRINGE. IM FUCKED IM FUCKED IM FUCKED IM FUCKED. AAAGAGAGBABABAHAHAHAHAHA

this moment is going to haunt you for the rest of your life, you just know it. while you were dealing with the repercussions of the exchange, jade was in absolute heaven right now. his heartbeat was at an all time high, feeling nothing but sheer joy. falling for you was never his intention, but thank the seven he did.

the day passes by swiftly, nothing too out of the ordinary. as jade walks back to his dorm room, he flops onto his mattress face first into the pillows. an annoyed floyd looks at him with a disgusted expression, wishing this didn’t happen almost every day.

“yer so sappy, yknow that jade?” he grumbles, tossing a pillow at him with force. jade didnt care. it was worth it. all of it was worth it. falling in love with you was the best accident he’s ever made.

🐍┊JAMIL VIPER

“i’ll never see it coming but i know we’ll crash, cause when we’re with each other, yeah, we move too fast.”

kill him kill him kill him kill him kill him kill hi

those were the thoughts racing through jamil’s mind as you somehow convinced him to ride the magic carpet with you. what was he thinking??? he knows something is going to go terribly wrong whenever he’s with you.

not because of you (he hopes), but because of him! he’s a man who’s very meticulous about his work, making sure it’s done to absolute perfection. now, add you into the mix. it throws him horribly off.

when jamil first met you, he didn’t think much of it. you were a magicless human from another world. impressive that may be, that’s all you are. no major threat to kalim, so he’ll leave you be. then came the overblots.. you seemed more valuable than he originally thought.

then came his overblot. in all honesty, he hated you after that. or he thought he did. he always felt this burning sensation in his chest and this inexplainable image of you in his head nagging at him at any free chance he got! then came the scenarios.. domestic moments like brushing his hair, waking up next to each other, cooking meals for each other..

then he realized he fell into the deep end and fell in love with you. shit.

you treated him with such kindness! how didn’t he fall in love with you?? everything’s making his head hurt. the world must be upside down.

hearing kalim sing constant praise was nothing out of the ordinary, something he’s already grown used to and learned to despise. you on the other hand, your compliments send him to different universes. he swear fireworks get lit whenever you open your mouth and just explode all around him.

jamil’s behavior around you was a fairly noticeable difference to those close with him. he stuttered over his words, was a bit more expressive, and had a specific tone in his voice that seemed to be reserved for you. however, the most notable difference that almost anyone can see was the fact that THE jamil viper made a lot more accidents.

he seemed to embarrass himself every time he’s with you, but thank god you just shrug it off like nothing. screwing up was not something jamil EVER did before.. why must you ruin him like this? and these moments seem to just speed by, making it all seem like one huge fever dream that he just happens to remember. he hates it!

now, back to the present moment. he watches you sit onto the magic carpet, feeling the cold breeze in your hair due to the fact scarabia is much chillier during the night. he stares at you from the balcony, seeing as you turned back to smile at him. “you coming” you ask, watching him hesitate. “m-maybe i shouldn’t.. i must tend to kalim and—“

“do you trust me?” you ask, holding your hand out to him. he looks at you, taken aback by your sudden question. “what?” “do you trust me?” you repeat, a stern tone in your voice as you looked down at him with a certain gleam in your eyes that he just cannot resist. “..yes?”

jamil grabs your hand, pulling himself onto the carpet. the warmth from his palms spread throughout your entire body, suddenly regulating the your internal temperature. as you both kneeled on the carpet, your eyes met, staring into each other intensely. his hand subconsciously squeezes yours, holding to them for dear life, not wanting to let go.

while this was insanely romantic to you both, from outside perspective, it just looks like this 🧍‍♂️🧍

“ah, jamil, you’re squeezing my hand.” you laugh nervously, watching as the heat rises to his cheeks. “s-sorry. now then, shall we?” he clears his throat, sitting down properly before looking at you with a small smile. you can’t help but reciprocate, flashing him a grin before taking his hand again. “of course.”

before the carpet can take off into the clouds, cheering can be heard from inside scarabia halls.

it seemed kalim had a little.. arrangement for the both of you. jamil pulls his hood over his face in embarrassment as the carpet flies towards the glittering sky of stars, something both you and jamil can enjoy together.

A/N: jamil bias is EVIDENT (I kinda sorta didn’t go with the song that much and got carried away oopsies)

date published: 7/28/24

© temiizpalace — do not copy, steal, or put my work into ai. thank you!

[thef1diary]

Little Big Fan | Eight

— Little Big Allergy

Series Masterlist

wc: 3.6k

Note: I am not a medical professional, so please let me know if something is incorrect

"Don't you dare think about cancelling, you are going on that date," your best friend's voice rang out of your phone on speaker while you were choosing a dress for tonight.

You turned to look at the phone, as if your best friend was standing there, "I'm not going to cancel, I just don't know what to wear," you responded, placing another dress against your body but frowning.

"Wear that one sexy red dress you have, who knows, you might just get laid tonight."

You shuffled through your closet, finding the red dress in the back, which was expected since you didn't wear it in a long time. You held it out in front of you, "don't you think it's too revealing for the first date? Maybe I could wear this next time."

It was a backless, short garment with two straps. While the back was revealing, so was the front, which featured two cutouts around the hips and exposed a bit of cleavage due to the lack of material.

Your friend hummed, "so we're planning a second date as well huh?" You could basically hear her smirk on the other end. "Well I hope this date goes well," you reasoned, but the jittery feeling didn't go away.

"You and Max are already good friends who happen to flirt occasionally, what could go wrong?" Then after a short pause, she added, "actually no, don't answer that. Try your blue dress, I bet he'd like to see you in blue."

After almost every interaction you've had with Max, starting from the grocery store, you've told your friend everything. Which is why when she suggested wearing blue, you weren't opposed to it.

Putting your red dress back in the closet for another time, which was hopefully soon, you held a navy blue dress in your hand, examining it before holding it up against your body.

While this one, like the red dress, had two straps holding it together, it was longer, reaching a few inches past your knees and including a little slit down the side for convenience.

"Alright, this is the one," you stated and continued conversing with your friend while you changed and began doing your makeup.

"So Bella is at Tyler's?" She asked, making you nod before realizing that she couldn't see you. "Yeah, she'll be there for the weekend."

"Oh how fun!" You could hear the sarcasm in her voice and chuckled, "it's fine, she should be spending time with her dad."

"The same one who called her overdramatic? Did you seriously have to have a kid with a guy like him?" This was a conversation you've had with her many times, and you would always reply with the same answer, "we were young and immature, but Isabella is the best thing that's ever happened to me."

"She truly is, which makes me glad that she turned out like you more than him." You chuckled, "oh trust me, I am glad about that too. It would've been a nightmare if I had to see a little version of him all the time."

"So, speaking of Isabella, how are you going to tell her that you are dating someone who happens to be her favourite person in her favourite sport?"

You groaned, "I don't know, I really don't know. I can't stop thinking about it, because of what Tyler told me," you explained. "Are you still believing his words? Actually scratch that, why are you letting your ex determine your future relationship?"

"God, why do you have to ask such questions," you muttered, taking a moment to think about your response.

"I don't want to believe him, I have a feeling something else happened that day which he didn't tell me about. Plus he's not only my ex, he's the father of my child. I don't think of him as anything more than that."

"Honestly that asshole shouldn't even be considered the father of such a beautiful little girl," your friend stated, and you couldn't help but agree with her.

"Anyways, let's not talk about him, I don't want to ruin my mood before the night even starts," you comment, with your friend humming in agreement.

"You're right, let's talk about Max!" She exclaimed, making you chuckle. That's whom you ended up talking about for the remainder of the time you were getting ready.

Even though she knew all the details right from day one, she wanted another whole story time of how you and Max met, leading up to when he asked you out. Instead of opposing to repeat the story, which you don't even know how many times you've told her by now, you happily told her all the details as if it was the first time.

A few minutes after you ended the phone call with your best friend, your phone rang again which you initially thought was a call from Max. However, it was a call from an unknown number.

You answered the call, and you were met with a woman's panicking voice on the other end, "is this Isabella's mother?"

"Yes, who is this?" You asked first, calming down the inner voices that instantly thought about the worse possible scenario involving your daughter.

"I'm Emma, I don't know if you know me but I am actually at the hospital, with Isabella." You tightened your grasp on the phone, as it was close to slipping away from your hands at Emma's words.

"What happened and which hospital are you at?" You instantly began moving around your house, finding your car keys as you waited for a response.

Emma told you the address as you were leaving through the front door. "She had a severe allergic reaction, and I thought it would be best to bring her to the hospital. I am sorry for disturbing you, I wasn't able to get in touch with Tyler."

You took a deep breath in, knowing that it was bound to happen someday, even though you would rather not have it happen at all. "I'm on my way, should be there in ten minutes. Thank you for letting me know."

It would've been pointless to argue with her, especially since she was the one who informed you of the situation at hand and had the decency to take your daughter to the hospital.

You rushed into the hospital within eight minutes, a record time for you, and you might've broken a few speeding laws but it was for a good reason. It didn't take too long finding Isabella, considering she was in the ER, with a frantic woman standing nearby, whom you assumed was Emma.

As soon as she spotted you, her first words to you was another apology, "I am so, so sorry, I had no idea she had a peanut allergy." That led you towards one question, well more than one but you started off with just one, "what happened?"

She sighed, before telling you how she spent the entire day with Isabella. "One of my friends came by and dropped off some baked goods, I swear I had no idea that it had peanuts in it."

You reasoned that if you calmed her down, it would calm you down as well, because the increasing dread in your thoughts would not benefit you in any situation. You put your hands on her shoulders, "I'm not blaming you for it, you didn't know."

You looked at the doors leading to the ER, "how bad was it?" Emma hesitated before muttering words that made your heart ache, "really bad, she started swelling up everywhere and then passed out."

You tried to sit down, but the need to know her well-being caused you to walk back and forth in the hallway.  Your phone buzzed in your hand, and you were about to ignore it until you recalled something really important.

"Shit!" Max was calling. Of course he was, after all he was expecting you to be home and ready for a date tonight.

"Hey, I'm standing at your front door, are you home or?" He started and awkwardly chuckled, causing you to shut your eyes, imagining how the night was expected to go. He was probably holding a bouquet of flowers, looking like an idiot standing by the door because you weren't home.

"Max, I'm so sorry, I'm actually at the hospital." There was no reason to lie, but even after telling the truth, you didn't feel any less guilty.

"What happened? Are you okay? Is Isabella okay?" His response was quick, and slightly surprising but you've known Max long enough that his kindness wasn't as shocking anymore.

"It's Isabella, allergic reaction," you briefly described, and heard some shuffling around on the other end before he asked for the address. "You don't have to come," you told him as you normally did, but he didn't agree again, saying "I want to."

You didn't argue with him, as your heart warmed at the fact that Max wanted to see Isabella himself, and stay right by your side until she was completely fine.

Quickly telling him the address as you noticed a doctor walking towards you and Emma, you hung up the call. "Which one of you is the patient's guardian?"

You stepped forward, "I'm her mother, how is she?"

"It was an anaphylactic allergic reaction, however everything is under control. We've administered epinephrine but we will be moving her to the ICU for a few hours just for observation purposes in case the symptoms are back."

You let out a sigh in relief, as did Emma. "Thank you," you nodded towards the doctor. Once they left, you sat down, the anxiousness leaving your body.

Looking at Emma, who was standing against the wall in front of you, you had another question brewing in your mind. "Where was Tyler when all this happened?" You asked, remembering that she called you only because she couldn't reach him.

"He said he had an emergency meeting come up," Emma spoke her words carefully, earning raised eyebrows from you. "He left you alone with my daughter?" You had to confirm the words you were hearing and scoffed once she nodded.

"It's not your responsibility to take of my child, it's his. You're not her guardian nor babysitter, you shouldn't have to do that." Emma shrugged as if it wasn't a big deal, "it's not the first time."

"How dare he?" You muttered under your breath before standing up and stepping closer to her. "We both have epipens for situations like this, and I am assuming that since you didn't know about her allergy, Tyler didn't tell you about the epipen either?”

Emma shook her head, "no, he didn't."

His lack of attention, led Isabella right to this moment. If he had told Emma about your daughter's allergy, or even what to do when she has allergic reaction, neither of you would be this worried about her health.

Emma, having realizing the depth of the situation, sighed, "I haven't been able to get a hold of him and if it weren't for Isabella constantly talking about you and telling me your phone number to the point where I had it memorized, I wouldn't have known what to do in this situation."

You pitied the woman standing in front of you, especially as you also knew that it was not her fault. You cracked a smile, "she talks about me huh?"

"Oh yeah, she considers you the best mother in the world, and based on her stories, I agree with her."

Then, you heard Max calling your name, walking towards you in a rush. He instantly wrapped an arm around your waist as if it was an instinct, "is she okay?"

Emma stepped away, picking up her phone for another useless attempt of calling her boyfriend.

You wrapped both arms around Max, bringing him in a hug, "yeah, she's okay."

Once he pulled back, he cradled your face with his palms, "are you okay?" You smiled, and your eyes filled with unshed tears because of his question. "Much better now."

Then, Max noticed your outfit which happened to be the dress you were supposed to wear on your date. "Wow," he breathed, his gaze unwavering, taking you in.

He was also dressed up, wearing a suit with a bow tie, and you couldn't help but reach up to touch it, "cute," you commented, making him raise his brows.

"Cute?" He repeated with a questioning tone. You nodded, biting your bottom lip to prevent a smile. "Cute and handsome."

"You are beautiful," he replied, watching as you avert your eyes because his gaze was intense.

"Oh, Max, this is Emma," you decided to introduce them, and added, "she's the one who brought Isabella here."

Max raised an eyebrow in question, "I thought Isabella was with Tyler?" He asked, directed at you more than Emma.

"Well, he wasn't home when this happened, only Emma and Isabella," you stated, and Max gauged your emotions for a moment, quickly recognizing the underlying rage you had directed at your ex. Max knew you'd be discussing this later, in the safety of your own house, so he didn't ask you to elaborate. 

A nurse came by, "Isabella is now conscious, and asking for her parents," they stated, along with the room number.

Emma looked at you and Max with a fond smile, before turning towards you, "I think I should get going now that you're here."

A genuine smile graced your lips, "thank you, Emma, for bringing her here and for staying with her even without him."

"Of course, she's the cutest little girl and I'm glad to get to know her." Both of you stood still for a moment, debating on whether or not you should hug her. Then, without thinking twice you initiated a hug that was easily welcomed by her.

You waited till she left your sights before looking at Max, "let's go?" You held out your hand but he shrugged, "she's asking for her parents, you should go."

You stepped forward and grabbed his hand, "you're coming with me," you decided for him. Although Max didn't pull away, he asked, "what if she doesn't want to see me?"

"Trust me, she'll be happy to see you," you convinced him and walked towards the room she was admitted in while holding each other's hand.

When you entered, Isabella's smile widened once she spotted you and Max. "Mama, Maxy!" She cheered, though quieter than usual.

A nurse stood by her side, monitoring her health and checking the IV drip inserted into your daughter's arm.

"Oh my angel, how are you?" You dropped Max's hand and walked closer to her, lightly kissing her forehead. Instead of a verbal response, she formed a thumbs up with her hand.

Then she looked at the door again, "is daddy coming too?" Isabella asked, sounding hopeful. You shook your head, "no sweetheart, daddy is not coming."

Instead of the usual deflated mood, she shrugged, "it's okay, Maxy's here." She held her arms around asking for a hug, only flinching for a moment since she forgot about the drip connected to her arm.

Max quickly stepped forward, bending over to hug her. "All good, Bella?" He asked, once he felt her arms wrap around him tighter. She nodded for a moment then shook her head against him, "it hurts," she whispered.

He brought his hand up to ruffle her hair before pulling away, "you are a very brave girl."

"Really?" She asked, and scooted over a little so Max could sit beside her. He nodded, "of course! Very brave."

She beamed, snuggling closer to him before looking at you. "Mama, come here," she patted the other side, and surprisingly the three of you were able to fit on the very small hospital bed.

A nurse was constantly in the room, checking in on Isabella's health from time to time and since there weren't any repeated symptoms of an allergic reaction, the three of you were out of the hospital in a few hours.

Max followed you in his car, and carried your sleeping daughter inside the house. Instead of taking her straight to her bedroom, he laid her down on the couch in case she wakes up and needs her mother.

It was safe to say that you were not going too far away from her any time soon.

You were in the kitchen, filling up a glass of water when he returned. He stood behind you, with his hands trailing down your sides before resting on your waist, and his chin on your shoulder. "Did I tell you how stunning you look?"

You hummed, "maybe a few times but I don't mind hearing it again."

He turned you around in his grasp, "well, you look breathtakingly beautiful."

You blushed, "you and your compliments," you chuckled. "What's wrong with it?" He asked, but you shook your head, "nothing, it's just I'll never get bored of hearing it."

He smiled, "good, because you'll be hearing at least one every day."

You tilted your head to the side, "every day? Are you sure you won't run out?" He shook his head, "not unless you keep finding ways to make me speechless."

Both of you remained in that position for a moment but then you frowned, "I'm sorry,"

"For what?" He tilted your chin up as soon as you averted your gaze away from him. "We weren't able to go on the date."

Max let out a sound in protest, "I'm pretty sure your daughter's health matters so much more than our date night. Plus the night isn't over," he added with a smile, confusing you even further.

"What does that mean?" He parted away from you and it quickly made you miss the warmth that his body provided you. "Why don't you go change into something comfortable," he suggested, almost pushing you out of the kitchen.

You weren't opposed to the idea, so you went upstairs to change after checking on your daughter. You found the most comfortable pair of sweatpants and a shirt, and removed your makeup as well.

Walking back downstairs, you saw Max waiting at the bottom of the stairs for you. He had removed his blazer and bow tie, unbuttoning the top few buttons of his shirt as well.

He held out his hand, waiting for your hand to hold his, and although you were confused, you wouldn't pass up an opportunity to hold his hand.

"It's not much, definitely not up to first date standards but we'll manage," he commented as he led you to the kitchen table where he had prepared two packets of instant noodles.

"I haven't been on a date in forever so anything you do will set my standards." You smiled when you noticed the lit candle.

"Well, then I will raise your standards next time by taking you out on a proper date." He held the chair out for you, waiting for you to sit before rounding the table and sitting down himself.

It took two minutes before Max moved his own chair right next to yours because he didn't want to sit on the opposite side. You chuckled at his antics but it was much appreciated.

"What's on your mind?" he asked once he saw you visibly thinking. You shrugged, "I don't think we should be discussing these thoughts on a first date."

"This is far from what a first date should be like, so there are no rules. I know you want to talk about what happened at the hospital," he prompted and he was spot on, so you agreed.

"I can't believe he actually left Isabella under Emma's supervision. Not that there is anything wrong with her, but it's not her responsibility!" Max nodded in agreement, "where was he?"

"In a fucking meeting," you exasperated, eating another forkful of the noodles. "It must've been very stressful for Emma," you sighed, finishing your short rant because you truly had no words for your ex's irresponsible behaviour.

Still, Max listened to every word. Once you were finished eating, he turned your chair towards him. "We can agree on the fact that he is an incompetent father."

"Yeah, I don't even know what would've happened if Emma wasn't there either. He surely wouldn't have left Bella alone right?"

Max shrugged, "hey, stop worrying about what could've happened. Bella's safe, she's okay." He placed a palm on your cheek, rubbing his thumb back and forth in a soothing motion.

You nodded, "you're right." Making eye contact with him, you were quickly lost in his gaze. While it almost made you want to look away, you couldn't.

"You know," you started, wanting to divert away from the current topic. He hummed, urging you to go on.

"I don't really care for an extravagant date, all I really need is you. I'm happy with this, with us." He smiled, to the point where you could notice the creases forming at the corners.

"I'm happy with us too, but I will be taking you out on an extravagant date because you deserve it, as well as much more."

You rolled your eyes playfully, knowing that it would be hard to convince Max otherwise, but you could think of a few ways to try when the time comes.

"Thank you for being here with me," you added, needing him to know about your appreciation. Your words also hinted at all the moments he shared with you, and Isabella.

He seemed to understand your hint, "I'm glad to be here with you, both of you."

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