#14 days with you x reader

[boyardee-znuts]

‪‪❤︎‬ a birthday trend for a kpop idol gives you an idea on how to spoil [REDACTED] for his birthday ‪‪❤︎‬ [REDACTED] x fem reader ‪❤︎‬ wc: 5.1k ‪‪❤︎‬ content warning(s): nsfw, yandere, being observed (somewhat) without your knowledge, reader has a pretty prominent chest, more submissive leaning [REDACTED], one (1) kpop reference but not relevant to plot ❤︎‬ [REDACTED] is from 14 days with you being developed by cutiesigh ❤︎‬ mdni banner by cafekitsune

14 days with you is an 18+ game and is not suitable for minors. minors do not interact with the game and/or any fanfiction material posted here.

you’ve learned not to question some of [REDACTED]’s odd habits. 

sure, their quirks like installing cameras in your apartment and hacking into your devices so they could watch you at all points of the day was far from normal, but you’ve learned that [REDACTED] would never lay a hand on you or do anything that would make you unhappy.

you’re no psychology expert. there’s probably some explanation about why something so fucked up could become something so normal, but you’ve decided to cross that bridge when you get there.

at least, those are your thoughts as you lay back on your bed, absentmindedly scrolling through twitter. your eyes gloss over the camera at the top of your phone, and you can’t help but wonder if [REDACTED] is watching you from somewhere else. it’s kinda cute, to think that they’d be observing you with such rapt attention when you’re not doing anything special.

‘happy birthday, johnny!’ a tweet catches your attention. it’s not someone you follow, but it’s the picture of a pretty girl with a revealing top and what looks like a kpop star’s photocard shoved into the hem of her bra. you don’t pay it any mind until a similar tweet pops up from someone else, with a girl’s chest and a different idol’s photocard tucked up snugly against the swell of her breasts.

must be one of those newfangled internet trends. you kept up with them enough to be able to understand general internet lingo and memes, but it wasn’t like you were jumping at every opportunity to do it yourself. 

you’re about to scroll away and go back to wasting your afternoon away by filling your mind with brainrot and nonsensical memes when an idea pops into your head.

you might not feel strongly enough about a kpop idol to post pictures of their photocard in your boobs, but you do have a rather dedicated boyfriend that might appreciate it more than words could describe.

you like that thought. you grin to no one in particular as you swing your legs off of your bed and make your way to your wallet. [REDACTED] is no kpop idol and doesn’t have photocards of them, but you do have a polaroid picture you managed to wrangle out of them during one of your dates. 

you strip yourself out of your top and dig through your wardrobe to find a cute bra. it’s a small white lingerie number with little wing patterns sewn lovingly into the lace edges. [REDACTED] got it for you, mumbling about how it fit your “angel” nickname they gave you. you believe them, but you’re also pretty sure they got it for you because it also looks like wedding night lingerie. 

but it’s perfect for the occasion. you make sure your chest is pushed up perfectly within the lingerie bra, using your elbows to squeeze in from the sides to accentuate the curve of your breasts. you carefully wedge the polaroid of [REDACTED] up against your nipple, barely covering yourself up. you’re revealing so much of your chest, leaving very little to the imagination yet still hiding just enough to leave any viewer hanging.

satisfied with your set up, you angle your phone so that the camera can get a good, clear view of your chest and the picture of [REDACTED] snugly against your breasts. 

“hi, [REDACTED]. thought i’d do something special for you,” you whisper softly. you really hope they’re watching you, otherwise you’d feel stupid doing this for no reason. “it’s your birthday soon, isn’t it? why don’t you come over, and i’ll give you a real birthday treat. consider this a teaser.”

you blow an exaggerated kiss at the camera before you set your phone down and get comfortable again on your bed.

now, you wait.

…

…

…

[REDACTED] makes it to your apartment in eight minutes. you were keeping count. normally they make it over in ten, which means they were most definitely rushing to get to you. and their red cheeks and shortness of breath as they practically knock down your bedroom door only seems to be proof of that.

you bat your eyelashes and look at them as if you were unaware of your ministrations just now. “you made it here so quickly! i wasn’t expecting that.”

[REDACTED] doesn’t even respond. they stare straight at your face as if your words went into one ear and out the other. their widened, blue eyes snake down the curve of your nose and cheeks, down to your neck, before they settle on your exposed chest and the polaroid of themself still nestled against your breasts.

“oh, c’mon, sweetheart.” you pout dramatically. “i know you’re expecting a good time, and i’m more than happy to give it to you, but can’t you at least give me a greeting before we go at it like animals?”

[REDACTED] takes a step back to shove their forehead against their hands and take a moment to calm their wild mind. their eyes flutter shut for a split second as they suck in a deep breath. “sorry. i… i suppose i got distracted. y’looked really good… couldn’t help but run here as soon as y’flashed me with- with that.”

you bite back a pleased laugh at how flustered they sound. looks like they eagerly downed the bait that you set out for them. “i’m messing with you. i’m glad you liked it enough to come see me in person. i was worried that i was doing all this for nothing.”

“i wouldn’t miss out on you for the world,” they breathe. now with the formalities out of the way, they turn to you. there’s a dark shadow that falls on their eyes, staring at your form as if they’re scared to blink. like you’d disappear if they were to tear their eyes away from you. you don’t think you’ve ever seen [REDACTED] this shamelessly desperate. they stay a step away from you, not wanting to encroach on your little safe zone on your bed without permission.

you sit up and pat the spot right next to you, at the edge of the mattress. “loosen up! sit. i promised you a birthday treat, so i am here to deliver. i want to make this all about you, so don’t look so scared.”

[REDACTED] bites at their bottom lip, fiddling with the ends of their black hoodie. but they comply, shuffling from your doorway to your mattress, and they plop down unceremoniously next to you. the mattress creaks in protest with [REDACTED]’s added weight, but once they’re seated, you remove the polaroid in between your chest and set it safely aside somewhere else. done with that, you lean over to press a quick kiss to their cheek. 

you can see their pale face visibly color as you kiss up and down their cheeks. your lips trail over the outline of their jaw before moving towards their neck. you press a lingering kiss over their adam’s apple, and then you tug impatiently at the neckline of their black hoodie to try and reveal more of [REDACTED]’s skin to your wandering lips.

“mmgh- angel-,” they groan as you trace the outline of their sensitive collarbones. your kisses are getting more languid, messy, your spit lingering on their exposed skin. “kissing me there like that… y’know i’m sensitive right there…”

“i know,” you murmur into their body. you shift slightly, practically clinging onto the lanky hacker. “that’s why i’m kissing you here.”

you make exaggerated kissing noises, your teeth tracing against the delicate skin. [REDACTED] has their head fully thrown back, leaning backwards onto their arms. for someone so practiced in the art of acting and play-pretend, subtlety flew out the window when it came to you and your awful teasing. with their throat and collarbones bared fully to you, [REDACTED] couldn’t make it any more obvious that they wanted you to bite them—to mark them.

normally it’d be them gnawing and sucking all over your neck to mark you as theirs, but tonight, you want to smother [REDACTED] in all the love you have. your fingers trickle down their stomach before settling at their crotch, cupping the growing tent in their tight black ripped jeans. their breathing hitches in the back of their throat when your hand ghosts over their visible erection, and you let the sharp ends of your teeth just barely dig into the soft flesh of [REDACTED]’s neck.

“fuck-,” they keen pathetically. “you’re going to fucking kill me, angel.”

“and you’d like it,” you mumble into the side of their neck. “do you want me to keep going?”

they shudder noticeably against your body. they breathe out, “yes. fuck- yes. keep going.”

god, their needy voice makes your heart skip a beat. you fumble around for the zipper before slowly dragging it down, and [REDACTED] helps you as you sneak your hand into their boxers and maneuver their half-hard dick out. you want to grip at their cock and just yank at it until they’re cumming their brains out right into your hand, but you came into this battle with a different outcome in mind.

[REDACTED] trembles again, probably assuming that you’d start jerking them off slowly. you wait, like a wild animal in anticipation for the perfect moment to pounce, until they let out a shaky exhale and let their eyelids flutter shut gradually. good. they’re letting their guard down around you.

you part your lips, drawing closer to their throat. 

and with as much love and lust you can muster, you bite.

“-kgh!” they cry out, flinching against your body. they whimper and moan as your teeth sink into their flesh, making sure the force is deep enough to leave a visible bite mark into their skin. it’s hot, their neck feels hot against your mouth, and [REDACTED] unconsciously bucks their hips, trying to find something to rub up against as a masochistic wave of red hot pleasure flashes against their mind.

it’s only then that you pull away from them, grinning down at them as if you’ve gotten them right where you want them. and you do—they’re panting underneath you, pretty blue eyes glazed over with need, eyes half-lidded as their cock visibly twitches and leaks in between their spread thighs.

you trace your fingers over the reddening bite marks on their throat. you giggle to yourself, moving your fingertips into the shape of a heart. “consider that an appetizer. ready for the real deal, sweetheart?”

[REDACTED] grits their teeth at the condescendingly sweet purr of your words. your nickname goes straight to their boner. “you’re awful, angel. don’t stop.”

your smile only widens as you clamber off of them and find your place on the floor. you push against their already spread knees before wiggling in between [REDACTED]’s legs. you peer up at them with a coy look, and you tug down at the flimsy lingerie top until it’s just barely hanging onto the bottom of your breasts. [REDACTED] looks like they’ve been turned to stone, unable to tear their eyes off of your chest as they sit frozen, propped up like a statue.

like you did earlier towards your phone camera, you press up against the sides of your boobs with your arms and move your chest slightly so that your breasts jiggle right in front of [REDACTED]’s swollen cock. you carefully slot their dick against the valley of your breasts, engulfing their girth partly with your chest. their cock feels hot against your skin, and it jerks slightly against your boobs, a perfect dot of translucent pre-cum beading at their tip.

[REDACTED] looks like they might choke to death on their own spit. you use your hands to push up against your chest from the bottom, trying to get the fatty flesh to fully envelop their thickness. 

“happy birthday, [REDACTED],” you coo lovingly. “i saw a bunch of girls doing this online to celebrate their favorite pop star's birthday, and… well, i thought it’d be fitting for me to do it to celebrate you instead.”

“you’re awful,” [REDACTED] weakly repeats. “you know just what to do t’make me crazy over you.”

“that’s kind of the whole point,” you laugh. before the hacker can smartly get back at you, you move your chest and your hands, sliding their cock downwards into your boobs. you gingerly stroke at the bottom half of their cock, making sure to cup your boobs just right so that their tip peeks out from between your breasts and their sensitive shaft is hugged with all the milky goodness [REDACTED] could only dream of. 

you net yourself a beautifully strangled moan. the sound comes from somewhere deep inside of [REDACTED]’s coiling stomach, and their body stiffens and tenses as you continue moving up and down on their shaft. hentai characters and pornstars make this look so easy, but you move slowly so that you can conserve your energy. 

you squeeze suggestively at your chest, and [REDACTED] lets out another weak cry when they see you groping yourself while you stroke them off. everything is too sudden, too much for them to handle, between you kissing their collarbones and biting like a feral animal at their jugular, to sitting so pretty in between their thighs in the lingerie that they specifically picked out for you, you’ve set the perfect honeyed trap for them to die in. 

“fuck- angel- fuck, my cock feels like ‘t’s gonna explode-,” they’re bucking their hips pathetically against your chest, grinding against your boobs. the delicious friction has their mind reeling, their metal piercings dragging against the soft skin in between your breasts. this is so much better than creeping on you through a camera, furiously fisting at their cock until they’re cumming all over their floor and hand, so much better than the rubbery artificial pleasure of a fleshlight. [REDACTED] just knows this is going to haunt them for the rest of their life. they’re going to beat off to this until their own brain goes hazy and stupid, wake up with a raging boner and rutting against their mattress from embedding this scene and this pleasure so deep into their mind that it invades their dreams. 

“hah-,” their breathing is rapidly turning ragged, the focus in their eyes slipping. “yeah- move your tits like that- move ‘em f’me- jerk me off with them… mhm- squeeze me harder- make me feel good… fuck, doing so good all this just f’me…” 

your chest is so soft and so welcoming, and you’re looking at them with such a pleased look in your eyes that [REDACTED] thinks they might actually pass out from the sheer pleasure. their heart flutters and squeezes inside of their own chest, and heat swirls and thrashes against the inside of their stomach. their cock pulses and weeps shamelessly with pre-cum, and it only lubricates your boobs further.

“do you like it? you look like you’re having a fun time,” you egg them on. your heart is thundering, and your blood races in your ears. it feels so lewd, so wrong yet so right, to be cupping your boyfriend’s cock this closely to your chest, to your heart, and watching them squirm and fuck against your skin. 

“yes- love it,” they manage out. their voice trembles and shakes, and the sound of your boobs squelching around their cock makes them go even more lightheaded. “yeah- just like that- oh, fuck, angel… milking m’cock with your tits- doing something so naughty all f’me… hah- you’ll be the death of me.”

they’re too coherent for your liking. [REDACTED] has never been particularly shy about how much they get off of simply being around, being able to claim you as theirs, on sharing as much intimacy as they can possibly hoard. the base of their pleasure has always revolved around you, but that’s not what you’re here for tonight. 

today is about them. you need to strip them all the way down to your instincts, using your body as the perfect tool to reduce all of their mind games and turn the tables entirely onto them. it would be your perfect reward, to turn your calculating and cunning lover into their true self: a [REDACTED] so lost in you that they can’t think. 

“i’ve always wanted to make you feel good like this,” you muse to them. the cool metal of their dick piercings are starting to warm up, nuzzled perfectly in between their body heat and yours. their cock pulses as you keep talking, your words and voice the perfect aphrodisiac to [REDACTED]. you bat your eyelashes innocently again, the smile they love so much gracing your face like holy light. 

“so naughty…,” they hiss. “tell me what you’re thinking, then. what you’re feeling.”

“hm…,” you trail off, humming under your breath. “i feel your cock… duh. it’s so big… you’re always so big, but having you against my boobs makes it feel even bigger.”

“oh?” their voice trembles the slightest bit when you lean back to rub your nipples over their tip. “y’like that? enough to ‘always want’ to do this for me? jerk my big cock off with your tits?”

heat flares inside of your face, and you pout. you don’t bother responding properly to them. words would be wasted on them when actions would be much louder, and you envelop their cock fully with your tits again. [REDACTED] lets out a moan when they feel the sudden skin-to-skin contact, the soft plush flesh of your tits wrapping all around their shaft and engulfing them with a wave of warmth. 

something deep in their stomach lurches dangerously. they’re lucky you didn’t make them strip all the way, otherwise you’d have a front row view to how much they were struggling to keep it together. [REDACTED] blames it fully on the novelty of getting to fuck their cock in between your boobs. 

“so what if i do? you’re the one getting off to it. look at how hard you are,” you reply curtly. you move your chest in one languid stroke, and it instantly has [REDACTED] recoiling against your mattress frame. you let out a puff of air as if to cement your temporary victory over the smart-mouthed hacker. “i’m gonna make you cum on me. just you watch. let me take care of you today. it’s your special day.”

they laugh weakly, and the bittersweet sting of defeat lingers against the corners of their mouth. they can’t win against you today, not when you’re so determined. it makes them a little shy. every part of them has existed solely to make you happy, so the thought that you’d want to do something to make them happy instead is doing things to their brain.

“alright- do what you want, angel-,” they acquiesce pretty quickly. they could put up a better fight if they wanted to, but they’re nothing if not easily convinced by you. it wouldn’t be such a bad thing to lose themself completely in your presence, especially when you explicitly want them to. they let their head hang back for a second, and their hair slinks from their shoulders to their back. “fuck- yeah- like that… make me cum, angel… make my cock feel good. feels s’good already…”

you take that as your cue to move faster, more passionately. your movements are escalating slowly, moving and cupping your chest based on their reactions. they’re letting you take the lead, and you let their noises and expressions guide you. you try to focus on their sensitive tip, rubbing your boobs all over it before moving all the way from head to base. every time [REDACTED]’s hips move against yours, you morph into their rhythm. their once controlled breathing quickly melts away into short pants and groans, and they’re rutting all over your sternum like they can’t get enough friction against their needy cock. 

“still feeling good? hmmm? are you liking the way my boobs make you feel?” you quip the question both in earnest and to tease them. 

[REDACTED] nods, and they’re barely able to look at you in the face. “yes- s’fucking good… feels s’good to have your tits wrapped around me like that… you’re moving so much too, fuck-!!”

god, you love having this effect on them. it’s so satisfying to know that as scary and ruthless as they could be, you had them wrapped firmly around your little finger. or in this case, you had your breasts wrapped around them. same thing.

“what if i move like this? still feeling good?” you stroke them with more full-bodied motions, and you do your hardest to press as much of your torso as possible against their dripping length. [REDACTED] gives a throaty groan, almost sounding like a wounded animal as they gasp and grip onto the edge of your mattress for what little stability it offers them.

“if you move like that, i’ll- god, fuck, god, angel-,” their words slur together into a garbled mess. “your boobs feel the best- feels so good- doing so good f’me, making me feel so good… love them. love you s’much- you’re s’good to me- spoiling me so much…”

they’re starting to babble, your praise spilling from their mouth endlessly. their cock is so big and so thick in between your chest that you have to continually keep moving to make sure you’re spreading your love equally between their girthy inches. [REDACTED]’s balls tense up and strain against the underside of your chest, undoubtedly wanting nothing more than to spill their load all over your face and chest, to cover you with ropes of their pearly white cum so that there’s physical proof of their love on your body. 

“if you-,” they pant out, their words coming out in short and broken phrases, “if you keep moving like that- keep moving your tits around m’cock like that- i’ll cum- fuck…! i’ll cum all over your tits- your pretty tits- fuck… gonna cum on your fucking tits-”

“oh? do you want to do that? wanna cum all over my boobs? gonna rub your cock all over my boobs and them cum straight onto them? wanted it so bad that you practically kicked my bedroom door in so you could get me in between your legs to jerk your cock off with my tits?” you squeeze your boobs even tighter before loosening them up again, mimicking the pulsing of a wet hole wrapped tightly around their cock. you know you’re torturing them by the strangled moan that escapes them, their eyes already lost amidst the numbing pleasure gripping their head. 

they nod feebly, their head lolling on their neck. they swallow thickly, and their marked up adam’s apple bobs tantalizingly inside of their throat. “yes- want it. want it s’fucking bad, angel- wanna cover those pretty tits of yours with all my cum… fuck- just thinking about it makes me feel s’fucking crazy…!”

their cock throbs and pulses dangerously against your boobs as you move up and down. you can barely hear the wet sounds of your skin rubbing against their length, the repeated shlick-shlick-shlick noises echoing around the room. even the once-cool metal of their jacob’s ladder piercings feel warm rubbing against your chest, and with how much pre-cum is dripping from [REDACTED]’s length, it’s only a matter of time before they lose all control of themself and cum all over you as if they’re in heat. 

“y’feel how hard i am?” they’re drunk on how good you feel, how addictive your body is when up against theirs. they just can’t get enough of it, can’t get enough of you. they want to stay here forever, with you within arm’s reach, wallowing in your attention and affection like a lovesick puppy who’ll suffer without it. “‘t’s all ‘cause of you- you did this t’me- you made me go crazy, made me fall in love with you- now i can’t fucking control myself whenever you’re around… ‘m always wanting more of you- fuck! fuck- fuuuck…!”

you also can’t get enough of winding them down, peeling back their obsessive layers bit by bit until you’re left with a lovesick version of themself, one that would do anything for just a scrap of your time. your body, your time, your attention is so sweet to [REDACTED]’s blown out senses, and they know they’re no better than an addict chasing after their next dose, their next wonderful high. they don’t think they could ever get sick of you, not when you’re so willing to indulge every twisted part of their mind. 

“you’re so good t’me-,” they choke out, staring down at you with unfocused eyes. their eyes threaten to flutter shut, but they use all their willpower to keep their eyes open, wanting to drink up the sight in front of them for just a little bit longer. “always making me feel good… fuck- fuck, angel, what’d i do to deserve you? mm- ngh- feels like i can’t think straight whenever you’re around me- there’s s’much in my heart f’you…”

you’re really no better than them. you want to see it. you want to see them lose themself entirely in the pleasure you’re giving them. you want to cum uncontrollably over your chest. you want their semen to spill over and coat as much of your tits as possible, coating you all over with the reminder that everything you’re doing right now is in complete dedication. it’s a mark of love, and one that you can’t wait much longer for. 

“yeah? you like me that much?” you squeeze your boobs a bit further. “go ahead then. cum all you want. all over me, please.”

“‘m close, angel- c’mon, just a little more… a little more f’me, ‘nd that’s all i need,” they plead softly. your heart flutters inside of your chest, like the whisper of a chaste love rather than the obscene lewdity spread out in front of you. their thighs shake, and you can feel their balls straining against the curve of your underboob. “so close- ‘m so close to cumming…!” 

you know just the push they need to shove them over the edge. you cock your head and peer up at them with as much true affection you can bring up. their face is flushed, and you can see the effort it takes for them to maintain eye contact with you. so sweet, they have always been so sweet for you. 

“i love you, [REDACTED.]”

it’s not the first time you’ve told them this, and it sure won’t be the last. but the effect on [REDACTED] is immediate. a full body shudder consumes them, and the knot inside of their stomach shatters instantly. they’re cumming onto your chest with a barely coherent cry of your name. it feels like heat is eating them from the inside out, sparks of electric euphoria surging through their stomach and head, making their nerves short-circuit as their entire body seemingly drowns in pleasure. 

white ropes spurt out from their tip, and you’re bombarded with round after round of their sticky cum leaking out onto your chest. some of it even hits your chin, and you nearly flinch away as if to avoid it, before remembering your original goal and staying put in between their trembling legs. you let their cum coat you. 

their cum is hot. it burns at your body, and you wince. the heat feels like it’s seeping into the underlayers of your skin, characteristically of the very one who would act like they want to live in your own skin if it were possible. but at the same time, in some twisted way, it feels good to have their cum splayed out all over your chest. it’s the same kind of submissive pleasure that comes from being marked up, from proudly claiming the fact that you’re theirs. 

[REDACTED] doesn’t think they’ve ever came as hard as they did in that exact instant. their mind feels as if it’s been blown out to space, like the entire world has faded away into nothing. their blood roars in their ears, and they can hear their pulse hammering and thumping wildly inside of their chest. their limbs feel heavy and weak all at once, the high coursing all throughout their veins. being told that you love them is the killshot for [REDACTED]—it’s the only thing in this universe that could make them react as violently as they did. 

“you- you just-,” they can’t bring themself to finish their thought. their cock splurts out whatever’s left over out of their orgasm. their length softens against your chest, and you finally relax your tits so that they slide limply from between your boobs. 

you grin up at [REDACTED], who blinks feebly. you scoop up some of the semen that’s coating your chest and stick your tongue out to lick your fingers slowly, smacking your lips loudly. their salty taste spreads against the inside of your mouth, and your throat bobs as you swallow and take their cum down deep into your stomach. 

“mm… perfect.” you hum. your fingertips glide over the top of your chest, where most of their cum lingers, and you use your palms to grope at your boobs again. there’s a flash of something in [REDACTED]’s eyes when they see their cum gloss over your nipples, and you giggle at their reaction. “happy birthday. i know it wasn’t much… but i hope you liked it.”

it’s their turn to laugh. they sound like they can’t believe it, like the past few minutes were nothing more than a dream. “like it? i think that’s the understatement of the fucking century, angel.” 

you shrug continuing to lap shamelessly at whatever cum you can pick up with your hands. it feels so odd, to be chatting with them so casually while taking down tonguefuls of sticky semen, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. “like i said, it is your birthday. and i want you to be more selfish on your birthday.”

you know you’re practically signing off on your doom whenever you tell [REDACTED] that they can be more selfish with you. they raise an eyebrow, as if questioning how much they can take you up on that offer, but when you don’t budge at all, the slight curiosity on their face quickly turns into poorly restrained delight.

“if you insist, then i sure don’t have any other choice.” they lean towards you, and they reach a hand towards you to cup your face. their thumb drags along your bottom lip, remnants of their cum smearing against your skin under their touch.

“i’ll take you up on that, angel. i’ll be as selfish as i want on my special day. just for you.”

takashi murakami: and then x6 white

[despairots]

DILUTE ME!

this is meant for older audiences, but if you are under the age of 18, i can not stop you from reading this.

story contains: light suggestive themes, yandere themes, ren/[REDACTED] should be a warning itself, mentions of murdering, etc. reader is a bit timid and shy when with [REDACTED] in this but they’re usually sultry and sweet.

context: yandere! reader gets over their sick and twisted ways of showing their love but finds it hard to keep it in once getting with their partner. gn! reader

you didn’t know what lend to this. you swore you got over the tendencies, the habit, the absolute anger you’d feel once you see another person that’s not you making a move on what’s supposed to be yours. why did he let this happen? why was this girl flirting with him infront of you?

your lips pulled itself into a tight line, your face pulling a look of absolute disgust, keeping the thought of bashing her head into the brick wall at bay, but how long could you keep it in until you just gave in and did every horrible thing possible to her?

god, how much longer will she try? actually, why hasn’t ren said anything yet? your eyes shifted from her figure to his, catching every detail of their face snd engraving it into memory. it didn’t matter how many times you do it, they look better every time you do.

your mouth went to open before it shut when she let out an obnoxious laugh. your eyebrow twitched, clutching onto your boyfriends hand even tighter, biting your tongue back. please, please, please, you thought you were better than this. unfortunately, you’ve went back to your default settings.

“leave them alone, you tramp.” you muttered under your breath, letting her only hear it (not knowing he picked it up aswell) before you scoffed at her and pulled ren away. mind was racing with different ways to dispose of her, as ren could only stare at you with puppy eyes.

back to your shared room, you stripped yourself out of your clothes, digging through his clothes and putting them on. any sort of reminder of them as you kept going back to the girl who kept flirting with them. who the hell did she think she was?

ren saw the way you glared at her, saw the way you bit your tongue back to snap at her when she got a little close, they loved it. now, watching you mentally mutter insults to yourself about that unknown whilst in their clothing, all he could think about was you.

how your scent would linger in their clothing, how you were so willingly to strip in front of him and wear their clothing. you looked so small in it, compared to him. ren watched you turn your back away from them, a slight twinge pulled at his chest. were you mind at him?

“are you mad at me, angel?” one of their hands lifted his oversized shirt on, trailing their fingers up and down your back, feeling your smooth skins and the way you shivered from his touch. “i—i’m not mad at you.” the way you ended your sentence with venom made him smile a bit.

ren trailed their fingers over to your stomach until wrapping his arm around it and pulling you back to his chest, hearing you yelp at the sudden pull. from this position, ren could see the growing blush from your cheeks as you tried hiding it in your arm and pillow.

“did… did you think she was cute?” their real name slipped from your tongue, and he couldn’t help but pull a face of disgust when you asked. she couldn’t compete to you in any other way. ren kept a note in disposing her later once you fell asleep, they didn’t want you to think he was attracted to her.

ren placed small kisses onto the back of your neck, hearing you breathe softly each time he made in contact with your skin, “you’re all i want.” their voice was muffled against the crook of your neck, as you flipped around and placed a gentle hand on his cheeks, a soft smile on your face.

“go to sleep, okay? i promise to give you treat later. remember? poorly behaved dogs get not treat.” fuck, that was hot. once you say that, there was no turning back, the both of you would last hours. ren’s eyes widened until their lips pulled into a light smirk, his hand going to the back of your head and pulling you into a deep kiss.

your hand slid down to his chest, finding itself slipping underneath their clothing and resting it there. a light moan escaped your mouth when ren took control, his tongue slipped into your mouth, marking every inch of it until they pulled away, a string of saliva a reminder.

ren went back to placing kisses on your neck, sometimes nipping at it if he felt a like a tease, grinning whenever you would release a small whine. your hands played with his hair, waiting until he fell asleep to execute your plan. a devious smile pulled onto your lips, hearing the breathes of the one you love.

you pulled away lightly, making sure you didn’t wake them up as you placed a pillow to be a substitute for you until you came back. this will be the only time you’ll resort back to your old ways, dressing in all back, grabbing a pair of latex gloves and a box cutter. as much as you wanted to do worse, this will have to do.

finding her wasn’t hard to do, she was walking around clearly under the influence, and you couldn’t help but snort at how stupid of a bimbo she was. you dragged her back to a secluded spot, keeping a hand over her mouth as you tossed her to the ground and went to stab the box cutter deep into the side of her neck.

you stayed in that position, maybe pushing it into her neck deeper for safety measures (when really you just wanted to get in more stabs). you pushed her to the side, putting the box cutter into your pocket and pulling the black mouth mask down, a judging look on your face.

disposing her body was easy, killing her was easy too— everything was easy actually. you didn’t need to do anything extreme to get rid of her. you quietly sneak back inside your home, stretching your limbs and taking the gloves off. you opted to throw the box cutter away but decided to keep it as a reminder that you had killed somebody again.

a pair of arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you back to something as a half scream half yelp was muffled when a hand came to your mouth. you thrusted around… until a familiar voice whispered into your ear, “now where were you, angel? did’ya really leave me to solve my own problem?” you knew what he meant by problem but that didn’t bother you when you remembered you were covered in blood.

“ren— let me go—“ their hold against you tightened, they took a piece of your ear into his mouth and nibbled on it, “so, how’d you kill her? stab her? strangled her? come on— you could’ve left her to me!” the way he said it sent a chilling shiver down your spine; what the hell did they mean?

he turned you around, wiping off some excess blood on your cheek with a lovesick smile. god, you looked so good like this. “what are you talking about?” you whispered, ren’s lips inches away from yours as their eyes flickered from your lips to your eyes.

“y’know what i’m talking about.”

your eyebrows were pulled into a frown, why isn’t he finding this weird? “you’re not disgusted by me?” ren let out a sigh, his next words being muffled by your lips, “i can never be disgusted by you.” you pulled away slightly, lips parted and pupils blown out, eyes flickering from their lips to their eyes nervously.

“but i killed someone…”

“and i enjoyed every minute of it.” the way ren said it made butterflies flutter in your chest, but yet you still felt disgusted by yourself. you promised you wouldn’t resort back to your old ways, yet you couldn’t help yourself. the way she decided to flirt with him in front of you, made you want to feel the same feeling you’d get whenever someone decided to get too cozy with something that was yours.

ren noticed the lack of words, bringing you into a comforting kiss, feeling you relax in their hold as you slowly kissed back. knowing the extremes you’d take for him, he couldn’t help but feel flattered that you’ll do that for him.

“come on, how ‘bout that treat i’m supposed to be getting?” ren shoved the black sweater off you, lips still interlocked as they placed their phone on the kitchen counter,

… as photos of you stalking and killing the women appeared on his phone.

[ekuudarlin]

♥︎ 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭: 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐲/𝐧 𝐬𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠: “𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐬𝐨 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐞. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞. 𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐥𝐥, 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮.”

♥︎ 𝐓𝐲𝐩𝐞: reaction

♥︎ 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬, 𝐨𝐛𝐯𝐢 𝐨𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐥𝐮𝐬𝐭, 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐜𝐲 𝐢𝐧𝐯𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬, 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐩𝐡𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐦

♥︎ 𝐒𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐫: 𝐈’𝐦 𝐡𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐫𝐲—𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭’𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐥

You uttering those words from your pretty lips give him pause. “A-Angel?” he stammers, pulling away from your neck where he had been pressing open mouth kisses prior. He’s staring at you in disbelief, eyes wide like a dear caught in headlights. An all too familiar heat crawls up his chest and setting on cheeks.

Did he hear that right? God, let him have heard you right. Let it not be another daydream playing tricks on him. The words flow too sweetly to only be his imagination. Would he be so cruel to himself to imagine you saying those very words? Yes, he would. He already went so far as to imagine a whole life with you, not much difference in that.

“C-Can you repeat that?” He’s seeking confirmation. His arctic eyes hold a growing intensity that rivals the heat of the blush splashed over his fair cheeks. When you repeat yourself, it’s not at all as confident as the first time—the embarrassment was settling in.

Ren didn’t really feel the same. He was swooning inside despite it not showing on shocked expression yet. His heart felt like it was going to combust in his chest with how over the moon he felt. One blink, his facial expression changes to one you haven’t really seen on him. He’s squinting down at you, a impish twinkle in his eyes and a grin slowly etches onto his face.

You really are an angel—you had to have heard his prayers. You’re giving him what he always wanted—with no restraints. Ren’s trembling as he’s still attempting to hold himself back; it’s too soon for him to drop all his future plans on you right now. So many plans—

“You make me so happy, baby,” he coos, lowering himself to your face. Being this close, you swear you can see hearts in his eyes, “But don’t you worry! I’ll make you feel so much, promise!”

For a fleeting moment—your words fail to capture his attention. Lost in the enchanting image of you, partially naked beneath him, he only snaps back to the conversation when your demeanor shifts to shyness, making him realize he missed a part of what was said.

"Are you okay, rosebud?" he murmurs sweetly, gently tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, placing your well-being above his own needs for the moment. In response, you repeat yourself hastily, your voice resembling a squeak, akin to a mouse caught in a trap.

Truly, there wasn’t a more accurate description. You’re trapped in Damon’s arms, and he gazes at you as if you’re the most exquisite meal he’s ever encountered. Your words shatter the composure he usually maintains for your safety—a concern he takes seriously.

Dealing with this unhealthy, secret obsession for you is difficult on its own—something he constantly has to control, particularly in moments like these to not scare you away. Now, you're indicating that he doesn't need to hold back, but you're unaware of just how misguided that suggestion is for him.

It would be a lie if he claimed not to have dreamed of you uttering similar words, and on those occasions, he seizes the opportunity. In dreams, you're less fragile and more aware of who he truly is. Oh, his poor rosebud.

A desire-filled growl rumbles deep in his chest, and he accompanies it with one of his signature toothy grins. "Careful with your words, love... you're sparking all sorts of ideas in me."

John felt as though he wasn't truly present with you; instead, he felt himself drifting above, observing the interaction unfold like a scene from a romcom he had grown fond of watching. It was during those moments that you were at your most physical.

Though this time isn't much different, your words struck a chord as they flowed from your lips like sweet nectar. He couldn't recall a time when you had ever spoken so provocatively, and he remembers every detail about you...

Things you couldn't bring yourself to confess even to God, that often weighed heavily on your conscience, shrouded in shame. Yet, your web history left a trail of breadcrumbs that John consumed with an unhealthy fervor, imitating them solely for your sake. He was willing to do anything for you.

He's come a long way, enduring every bad end repeatedly so that you could ultimately end up like this, nestled comfortably in his arms, exchanging sweet nothings that meant the world to him and more.

Weakness overcomes him as his focus returns, his eyes filled with adoration fixed on you. There's nothing he can do but express it. "Me too!" he exclaims, his smile resembling a chester's cat, strands of hair cascading across his face. "You can be rough, I'm yours!"

John leans in, planting kisses on your face repeatedly, murmuring, "Forever and ever and ever," before trailing to your neck.

Alan is in the process of burying his face into your clothed stomach when you speak those magic words. A shiver, filled with anticipation and excitement, dances down his spine—naughty and sinful. He pauses, stuck in a trance as he replays the words in his head.

Do you have any idea what you do to him—truly? As if his heightened senses of smell, touch, and even taste weren't sufficient, you further bless him with your teasing words. He silently thanks whoever is out there that he's currently spooning you, or else he would collapse from weakened knees.

He remains silent for a moment longer than expected, leading you to believe he didn't hear you. But he did—he's simply grappling with the shock and contemplating how to translate those words into action. He's thought about it before, of course he has.

Perhaps not to cause physical harm, but to assert his control, guiding you into every imaginable position within minutes, leaving you placid and breathless, entirely for his pleasure.

Alan looks up at you, a feral intensity gleaming in his eyes. You can almost envision him casting heart eyes your way, his gaze a perfect blend of adoration and want. “Mine to do what I want.” He says it more as a promise—a statement more than anything else.

Any ordinary person might raise an eyebrow at your preference for pain, but Jack smiles, perhaps even blushes. He feels honored, particularly by your declaration of love. He belongs to you as well—he's uncertain how many times he needs to affirm it, but he will, without hesitation.

Under no circumstances will he physically harm you—he doesn’t even enjoy choking you, despite your preference for it. The most he'll do is leave painful and long-lasting hickeys on your body or handle you into position a bit roughly. Anything beyond that is off the table. He's a big guy, and hurting you is the furthest thing from his mind.

He’s too preoccupied with making you happy. His little ray of sunshine, the reason he doesn’t linger on the past is because the present with you is so fulfilling. Waking up beside you gives him a sense of happiness and purpose.

Even if that purpose is to consume you whole—sinfully.

He chuckles softly, his eyelids drooping to a dangerously seductive degree, sending a jolt through your core. "I could never harm you," he murmurs, practically purring as he draws you in closer. "You're my sunshine," he says, as though it’s the most obvious truth. And indeed, to him, it is.

"But I'm more than willing to make you cry out in pleasure."

It was difficult for you to even utter the words with his tongue shoved down your throat. You could say he really ate it up—both literally and figuratively. When he finally pulled away to allow you to catch your breath, he was grinning so wide, your cheeks ached just from looking at him.

Peter is thrilled. He knows deep down he's a bit of a freak—the only person unaware of this between the two of you is you. Maybe later after he folds you like a pretzel you'll realize mentioning something like this wasn't the best idea, but for now, he's thrilled. Your confession, or rather demand, came much sooner than he anticipated though. Shocked him just a little.

Originally, he planned to discuss introducing new elements into the bedroom, but this turn of events suits him perfectly. However, he knows he needs to take things slow, even though his mind is already racing ahead, imagining how he wants you to end up—preferably begging. But he's a very patient man.

“You’re so fucking cute… You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for those words.” He murmurs low, slowly trailing kisses down your body with a steady grip on both your thighs.

[soluversworld]

4 days with Ren!- Ren x G.N Reader

(Clickbait Titl-….!!!

Words:8000

Genre: Fluff

Summary: — you encounter Ren, a seemingly shy and awkward stranger who enters your bookstore. At first, his nervousness and fumbling words leave you uncertain about his intentions, but as the interaction progresses, you begin to notice subtle, yet familiar traits about him. His nervousness, his playful yet shy demeanor, and the blue eyes all hint at something deeper, but it isn’t until later that you realize the truth—

( Reader is a g.n!)

EXTRA: Let me know if I continue this! This is kind of a heart-felt shit so don’t worry.

Reader can be a idiot at times, Since we don’t know Ren’s real name. His real name is taken as [REDACTED]

I’m sorry for the delay! I scarped this so many times, I really started to feel stressed about this..

[[MORE]]

“Eh? You… wanna marry me…?”

The memory was hazy, but vivid enough to make your heart flutter even now. It had happened when you were both just kids, playing together on the playground like any other day.

[REDACTED] had tugged at your hand with uncharacteristic urgency, his dark hair falling messily into his wide, nervous eyes. He told you he had something important to say.

Then, out of nowhere, he dropped to one knee before you. His small, trembling hands held up a ring—crafted clumsily from what looked like tin foil, the kind of thing only a child would painstakingly make. The other ring sat snugly on his own finger.

Your heart skipped a beat as you stared at him. His earnest expression, the slight shake in his voice, the sincerity in his gesture—it was all too much. Your cheeks burned as you cupped them instinctively, trying to hide the blush spreading across your face.

He looked so nervous. So hopeful.

Your lips parted to say something—anything—but you froze.

You’d always liked him, hadn’t you? Even then, there had been something about [REDACTED] that made your chest tighten. You didn’t fully understand it back then, but now it was so clear.

Before you could gather your courage to respond, the moment shattered.

“Hey! What’re you doing to them?!”

Leon, ever the self-appointed protector, charged onto the scene. With one swift motion, he smacked the little ring out of [REDACTED]’s hand, sending it tumbling into the dirt.

The entire playground fell silent.

“Don’t worry!” Leon declared loudly, puffing out his chest. “I’ll protect you from weirdos like him!”

Your heart dropped as you saw the way [REDACTED] flinched. His hands hovered where the ring had been, his gaze darting to you for reassurance.

“But, Leon…” you started quietly, the protest barely leaving your lips.

It was too late. [REDACTED] scrambled to pick up the ruined ring, his shoulders shaking as he clutched it tightly. Tears streaked down his cheeks, but he didn’t say a word.

He turned and fled, his quiet sobs fading into the distance, you stood frozen, guilt twisting in your stomach. You wanted to chase after him, to tell him it was okay, that you didn’t care about Leon’s interruption or the rumors about his family. You didn’t care about anything except the fact that he had been brave enough to bare his heart to you.

But you didn’t. You let him walk away.

All you could do was watch his retreating figure and whisper softly to yourself, too late for him to hear:

“I would ve said yes…”

“But Leon!” you repeated, louder this time, frustration bubbling up as you watched [REDACTED] disappear.

“What?” Leon shot back, his arms crossed defiantly. “I just saved you! That guy’s weird, and you shouldn’t hang out with him!”

“You’re so mean!” you snapped, stomping your foot. “He wasn’t doing anything wrong! He just wanted to—” You stopped yourself, suddenly feeling too vulnerable to explain. “You’re always ruining everything!”

Leon puffed up like an offended balloon. “I’m not ruining anything! I’m protecting you, dummy!”

“I don’t need protecting!” you shouted, tears pricking at your eyes. “You’re just a big, mean bully!”

Leon’s cheeks flushed pink as he huffed and looked away, his pout making him look even more childish. “Fine, do whatever you want! But don’t blame me when that weirdo does something weird!”

You narrowed your eyes at him, crossing your arms in a perfect mirror of his stubborn stance. “I will do what I want! And stop calling him weird!”

“Whatever,” he grumbled, kicking a pebble with his shoe. After a moment, his voice softened. “But I’m still gonna keep an eye on him, okay? Just in case.”

You hesitated, then nodded, your earlier anger fading into relief. “Fine. As long as you’re not mean about it.”

Leon gave a reluctant shrug, muttering something under his breath about “always having to be the grown-up.”

It wasn’t until later that you realized how little it mattered. Days passed, then weeks, but [REDACTED] never came to see you again.

At first, you waited eagerly, sitting on the swings after school, hoping he’d show up like he always did. But he didn’t. You told yourself he was just busy, that he’d come by soon.

But he didn’t.

Maybe he was avoiding you. Or maybe it was his family. The whispers about them had only gotten worse. You’d overheard adults saying things they thought kids couldn’t understand. Things that made your chest ache and your fists clench.

You waited until the hope in your heart shrank into something fragile and brittle. Until you couldn’t hold it anymore, and one day, you cried. You cried because you missed him. Because you couldn’t fix whatever had gone wrong. Because you never got to tell him how much he meant to you.

And [REDACTED]—he was out there somewhere. Maybe he wanted to come back. Maybe he didn’t. You didn’t know.

All you knew was that the boy with the messy black hair and the trembling hands had slipped away from your life.

And even though you were just a kid, you felt like you’d lost something you might never get back.

You remembered again..Didn’t you?

Stifling a groan with the rim of your coffee cup, you fumbled for the remote wedged between the couch cushions and turned off the TV.

There was no way you were letting some grim headline ruin the start of your morning—especially not today. Today marked your first day back at work since earning that hard-fought promotion.

Sure, working at a library, organizing and sorting through shelves of books, wasn’t exactly the dream job you’d envisioned growing up. It wasn’t even close to the top of your list when you decided to move back.

But the pay was good, your coworkers were warm and welcoming, and the library’s location couldn’t have been more convenient—just a short walk from your apartment.

And on the way, there was this cozy little bakery that served the best shortcakes and croissants you’d ever tasted.

You sipped your coffee with a soft smile, thinking briefly about how much [REDACTED] would’ve loved that bakery.

It was a fleeting thought, but one that lingered, curling in the back of your mind like the steam from your mug.

Why was it still so easy to think about him?

Even now, after all this time, you couldn’t shake the feeling of unfinished business. Regret? Guilt? Maybe a little of both. You’d wanted to give him a chance back then. You really did. But life had gotten in the way. Or maybe it wasn’t life.

Maybe it was you.

You swallowed hard, setting the cup down on the table with a soft clink. Maybe you were the problem. Maybe he’d moved on, forgotten all about the mess you’d left behind.

And yet, the thought of him still made your chest ache. You wondered what he was doing now, where he was, if he still remembered you too.

Maybe… just maybe… you’d see him again.

It still beats living in the city, though. Honestly… you weren’t even sure why you left your hometown in the first place.

The fast-paced, hustle-and-bustle lifestyle of the city just wasn’t what you longed for when staring out your window on sleepless nights. The people there were always rude and indifferent, making you feel like a stranger in a crowd.

It was nothing like Corland Bay. There, everyone felt like a close-knit family, and the air smelled of salt and sea rather than car exhaust and pollution.

Sure, the local crime rate had been creeping up lately, and there weren’t as many exciting places to visit, but that didn’t bother you much. Your new job kept you busy, and you’d take a quiet evening alone at the beach over a night in a crowded, shady bar with people you barely considered friends. In fact—

bzzt bzzt!

Setting your mug on the table, you reached into your pocket and pulled out your phone. A notification from Moth, your online friend, lit up the screen. Their username always brought a small smile to your face.

Tapping the screen, you opened the message to find an adorable sticker of some anime character giving a thumbs up, accompanied by a short, cheerful note:

“Good luck today!”

Moth had always been adamant about showing their endless support for you. Even after five years of friendship—filled with cursed memes, late-night video calls, and discussions about the most random topics—they never failed to brighten your day.

And even though you would never admit it out loud, you were truly grateful to have someone like Moth in your life.

Pulling up the keyboard, you began to type a response to their message.

…How will you respond?

It really was considerate of them to send this message—especially given the contrasting time zones—so you decided to send back a quick:

“Thank you! :)”

Moth “btwww! did u see the latest AoG ep?? i heard Haruko got an outfit change!!!!”

Moth “spoil it for me. did he really change his hairstyle as well?”

Moth “or was it really just his sorceror outfit?”

Attack on Giants—or “AoG,” as Moth liked to call it—was a popular anime series you and they had recently become obsessed with. Haruko, one of the main characters, was a sorcerer known for his shy and airheaded demeanor. Lately, his hairstyle had sparked debate in the fandom, and Moth was clearly eager to discuss it.

Now that you thought about it… what hairstyle did Haruko have in the latest episode?

Moth “cuz it’s like… almost 9:30 where you are rn”

Moth “right???? or am i just dumb and got the time zones mixed up again lol”

Glancing at the time displayed on your phone, your eyes widened in alarm. It was 9:30—nearly time for work. Letting out a string of curses, you leapt to your feet, nearly knocking over your coffee in the process.

Cursing under your breath, you toss your phone onto the couch and rush to your bedroom. Work wasn’t going to wait for you, and you’d already pushed your luck with timing this week. But as you throw open your closet, your fingers linger over your usual outfits. Today didn’t feel like a typical day—why not switch it up a bit?

Your eyes dart to the newer pieces you’d been collecting lately, leaning heavily into an emo-gothic vibe. You’ve been obsessing over the style lately, and while it wasn’t your usual go-to, the mix of dark tones and edgy accents had been calling your name.

It wasn’t like anyone at work would say much—libraries weren’t exactly fashion runways, after all. And besides… the idea of blending the “softie” energy you adored with a bad-boy edge gave you an odd sense of satisfaction.

Pulling together your outfit, you settle on:

A loose, oversized black sweater with slightly distressed hems, layered over a plain dark-gray shirt for texture. Slim-fit black pants with subtle zipper and chain details that didn’t scream “rebellion” but hinted at it. Chunky platform sneakers that added just enough height to feel bold without overdoing it. To tie it all together, you add a choker with a small pendant and a pair of simple silver rings. You glance at yourself in the mirror, adjusting the choker slightly and ruffling your hair for a casual, messy look. Softie lover with a bad-boy phase? Yeah, that checked out. With a small laugh, you grab your bag, sling it over your shoulder, and head for the door.

You lock up and start walking to work, you feel a small thrill of confidence creeping in. The outfit wasn’t just a look—it was a mood. And today, you were determined to make it through with your head held high.

“Seriously… When will that lazy bum of a landlord do something about this?” you mutter, fiddling with the stubborn lock on your apartment door.

You wiggle the key again, sighing in frustration. “I swear I’ve complained about this at least four times this month…”

“Hey there! Looking good!”

You turn to see Violet, your ever-cheerful neighbor, practically glowing as she juggles her apartment key in one hand and balances yet another potted plant on her hip with the other.

Resting on her hip was, indeed, another plant. You can’t help but wonder where on earth she was going to put it this time. Her balcony was already a mini rainforest, brimming with lush greenery and various flora. At this point, you’re almost convinced she’s converted her whole apartment into a greenhouse.

Not that you’re complaining—her plants do a fantastic job of masking the occasional smell of smoke or burnt food that wafts out when you attempt to cook. The floral, earthy aroma is a blessing in disguise.

“Love the shoes, by the way! The color reeeeally compliments your aura this morning,” Violet gushes, beaming at you.

A small laugh escapes you as you glance down at your platform sneakers. “Thanks, Violet.”

“You’ll have to let me peek inside your closet someday,” she says, winking. “I’ve been looking for some new inspiration lately. Especially with winter right around the corner… Ahh, I’m getting excited just thinking about it!”

Her enthusiasm is contagious, and you find yourself smiling despite your earlier frustration with the lock.

“Oh! But back to you!” Violet’s voice pulls you out of your thoughts, her growing smile as bright as ever.

“Yeah, it’s nice to see you too!” Violet chirps, her smile never faltering. “I’d usually still be at the flower shop at this time, so it’s nice to finally be able to catch up with you like this—especially when our schedules align!”

She adjusts the potted plant on her hip before adding, “Speaking of! You should stop by my place the next time you’re free. I’d love to introduce you to this little guy’s family.”

You glance at the plant she’s holding, raising an eyebrow at the thought of meeting its “family.” Before you can say anything, Violet’s eyes light up, and she leans closer.

“Oh, I almost forgot! I’ve been meaning to ask you this, but… When were you going to tell me that you were seeing someone?”

You blink, thrown off by the sudden topic change. “What?”

“C’mon! Don’t act like you didn’t just have a guy over last night. I saw him leaving when I took Cathy out for a walk.”

For a moment, your brain stalls. The fact that Violet takes her plants—her named plants—out for nighttime strolls is peculiar enough, but the idea of someone leaving your apartment completely derails your thoughts.

You shoot Violet a concerned look, and she immediately picks up on it.

“You… don’t remember? Don’t tell me you were drunk or something!”

She lets out a huff, abandoning her attempt to unlock her own stubborn door. Setting the plant down carefully, she saunters over to you, her expression a mix of curiosity and mischief.

“Tall guy? Wearing a dark slasher hoodie? Probably into either alt fashion or bondage with the crazy amount of belts and loops wrapped around his leg?”

Violet tilts her head, eyes narrowing thoughtfully. “Oh, and he had dark black hair. Pretty striking, honestly.”

Her words make your stomach lurch. A memory flashes through your mind—soft laughter, small hands grasping a silver ring, and a promise made in the naivety of childhood. Could it be… him? The boy who disappeared from your life so long ago?

Without thinking, you stammer, “I-It’s my boyfriend!” The words leave your mouth before you can stop them, and your voice cracks just enough to make you cringe inwardly.

Violet blinks, surprised, then smirks knowingly. “Ohhh, really? Your boyfriend, huh? Well, now I definitely need to meet him. You should introduce him sometime.”

You nod frantically, hoping to change the subject. “Y-Yeah, sure, I’ll… I’ll do that.”

She beams, her curiosity seemingly satisfied for now. “Great! Well, I’m off to raid some dungeons in that MMO I told you about. Gotta carry my team, as usual.”

With a giggle, she scoops up her potted plant and waves as she heads back to her apartment. “Later, go with your mystery-dater!”

You wave weakly, watching her retreat. As soon as she’s out of sight, you scratch your head in frustration. “What the hell was that?” you mutter under your breath.

Not all dark-haired guys could possibly be him. What were you even thinking? That kid—the one who gave you that ring, who promised you the world in the way only children could—was nothing more than a distant memory. You haven’t seen him in years. Childhood romance? Seriously? You shake your head, letting out a huff.

Still, the thought lingers longer than it should, tugging at the edges of your mind as you lock your door and finally head off to work.

You shake your head again, groaning as the realization sets in. “God, I’m such an idiot!” You can’t help but say it aloud, even if you’re just talking to yourself. The more you think about it, the dumber it seems.

Why did you even react like that? Just because some guy with dark hair left your apartment, it doesn’t mean it was him. It’s probably just some random guy. You never even saw his face, so why did you feel the need to defend him like that? Just a few words from Violet, and suddenly you’re out here saying it’s your boyfriend. Your boyfriend? Really?

It didn’t help that you got flustered, making the situation even weirder. Your head feels heavy, and you want to slam your palm against your forehead in frustration. You’re staring at the door as though it’s the culprit here, like the very existence of it will somehow make everything less awkward. But deep down, you know that’s not the case.

This is dumb. You’ve known him for how long? The answer is years—and all you’ve got to show for it is a bunch of fragmented memories and a ring that’s gathering dust somewhere. You didn’t even know if that kid—no, that person—is still out there, or if he’s even remotely the same. Yet, here you are, thinking maybe you’ve let some weird twist of fate drop him back into your life in the most awkward way possible.

Exhaling sharply. The room feels suddenly smaller, your thoughts cluttered with questions that don’t have answers. What does this even mean?

“Seriously?” you mutter again, this time with a crying emoji look on your face, as if to signal just how messed up everything has become in the span of a few minutes. You stare at the wall, your mind reeling with the possibilities. Could it be that someone’s been in your house without you knowing?

The idea doesn’t sit well with you at all. You have a pretty strong feeling that you’d notice something off about your apartment. Yet, even as you mentally search for clues, everything seems… normal? You don’t remember anything being out of place, no missing items, no strange smells. Just the same old messy, cozy apartment where you usually keep to yourself.

But what if you missed something?

What if this guy—whoever he is—had been sneaking around your apartment when you weren’t looking? What if he’d been here for more than just that one night, slipping in and out like some shadow, while you thought nothing was amiss? The thought sends a shiver down your spine, your heart racing at the very possibility.

It makes sense, doesn’t it? People break into places all the time, right? Or maybe he didn’t break in—what if he just slipped in? You remember how relaxed you’ve been, how easily you let your guard down after getting used to living alone. You’ve never been paranoid or particularly cautious. Maybe that’s the issue. Maybe you’ve been too comfortable.

The more you think about it, the worse it gets. You try to shake off the thoughts, but they persist, like dark clouds following you no matter where you go. You can’t shake the feeling that something’s wrong, even if you can’t quite put your finger on it.

You don’t know how long you’ve been sitting there when your phone buzzes again, but it startles you enough to snap you out of your spiraling thoughts. You grab it instinctively, desperate for something to take your mind off the wild ideas plaguing you.

The message is from Violet, which only makes you feel more like an idiot. Seriously? Why is she messaging you now?

Violet

“Heyyy! I almost forgot to mention something! I was just thinking… If you’re not busy later, I could swing by and help you with that lock issue. I can’t stand when things like that get in the way, and you’ve been dealing with it for a while, huh?”

You stare at the message, considering it for a second. Help with the lock? You could definitely use some help. You haven’t been able to get it to work properly for ages, and it’s becoming a hassle. But now, you’re not even sure if you want anyone over. Not after what Violet said.

The nagging thought creeps back. What if someone has already been in here? What if they’re waiting for me to slip up again?

You rub your face with your hand, fighting the urge to get paranoid. Stop it. You’re overthinking this, you try to tell yourself, but it doesn’t help. Violet’s just being nice. She doesn’t know anything. You’ve got nothing to hide, right?

Your fingers hover over the keyboard, undecided on whether to reply. You don’t want to sound weird or like you’re flipping out. You’ve barely seen Violet more than a few times when your schedules happen to align. But you can’t deny that there’s something unsettling about this whole situation now.

Maybe you should talk to her. You should’ve just talked to her earlier, told her you’re fine. Instead, you defended someone you don’t even know, let your own stupid reaction make things weird, and now you’re overthinking everything. You let one stupid comment spiral out of control.

You take a deep breath and start typing.

You

“Thanks for the offer, but I’m okay for now. It’s just one of those things, y’know? Maybe next time though!”

You hit send before you can second-guess yourself. Maybe it’s better to leave it at that. Besides, you’ve got enough to handle with work and your apartment, and you’re not sure you’re ready to let someone into your life, especially with all the confusion swirling around.

For now, you’ll deal with it alone.

“Oh!”

She looks surprised for some reason before her expression softens into a warm smile. She tilts her head slightly, beckoning you closer with a subtle nod.

Elanor, one of your co-workers at Corland Bay Library, is one of the few people here who actually gets things done. She’s a bit scatterbrained—infamously so—but she more than makes up for it with her kind and doting attitude toward everyone.

Still, her nurturing personality can feel… overbearing at times, and you’ve learned to step away every now and then just to catch a breather.

“Sooooo?” she starts, her tone light and teasing. “How does it feel to no longer be the one in charge of stacking books all day long?”

Before you can respond, she adds, “Although… You’ll still have to work the front desk from time to time, unfortunately.”

You offer a polite smile, shrugging slightly, before making your way past her. Rounding the corner, you duck down and slide your bag under the desk. You start pulling out your belongings, preparing for the day ahead.

The familiar chime of the library’s front door rings out, signaling that another patron has just entered. You glance toward Elanor briefly, figuring she’s got it all handled. She always does, even with her scatterbrained tendencies.

For now, you focus on getting your things organized, letting the quiet hum of the library settle your earlier frustrations. The bookshelves, the faint scent of paper and ink, the low murmur of distant conversations—this place has always been a refuge, even on your busiest days.

Still, there’s a nagging thought in the back of your mind: the strange conversation with Violet..

Elanor

“Looks like he’s back again.”

Elanor chuckles softly, inclining her head toward the person she’s talking about.

“You know, that new guy. I don’t know when he started showing up here in the Bay, but he always comes in and rents the books you put on the display window.”

Her voice takes on a teasing tone as she continues, “And if I didn’t know any better, I’d say he has a little crush on you.”

She pauses for dramatic effect, adding with a playful grin, “Because he was staring. A lot.”

You snort, rolling your eyes as you push Elanor’s office chair so she’s facing the other way. Without another word, you turn your attention back to the papers in front of you, trying to shake off the heat rising to your cheeks.

What is with everyone today? you think, frustrated. Smiling too much, gossiping, meddling in business that isn’t theirs—it’s like everyone is conspiring to test your patience.

And as if the morning hadn’t been chaotic enough, the thought of a potential intruder still lingers at the back of your mind. It’s a problem your deadbeat landlord probably won’t do anything about, no matter how many complaints you’ve filed.

You sigh heavily. Maybe I should just buy a stronger lock on my way home. Or even an alarm system. But then another thought strikes you: Would the stores even still be open by the time I get off work?

The realization only adds to your frustration, and you rub your temples, trying to will away the tension building in your head.

Elanor

“Would you look at that… Loverboy in aisle 8 needs some help, it seems.”

She nods toward the flashing red light above the bookshelves, the signal for staff assistance.

With a sigh, you reluctantly rise from your chair. Of course, Elanor isn’t going to help him herself, and you already know she’s grinning like a Cheshire cat, thoroughly enjoying your predicament.

Refusing to glance back at her, you begrudgingly head toward aisle 8. You can practically feel the smug energy radiating from behind you as you weave through the shelves.

Turning the corner, you’re met with a broad figure standing with his back to you. He’s wearing what has to be the comfiest cardigan you’ve ever seen. The stranger hasn’t noticed you yet, so you awkwardly clear your throat and shift your weight from one foot to the other.

“Ahem!”

The guy flinches at the sound, startled, before turning around.

“Ah-!”

When he finally faces you, you’re momentarily struck silent. His soft, doe-like eyes and towering height catch you off guard, and you’re left staring for a beat too long.

So this is the guy who always checks out my book recommendations? you wonder. He fits the cosy literature-lover vibe perfectly.

But it’s his pink hair that really throws you off—it immediately reminds you of Haruko, the anime character you’ve been obsessing over with Moth during your late-night video calls. Even the cut and style of his hair look eerily similar.

Is this a coincidence? Or is this hairstyle trending, and I’m just the last person to know?

You take another good look at him, craning your neck slightly to get past the sheer height difference. There’s something else, too—he looks like a near picture-perfect version of the male lead from Always With You, a webcomic you’ve been devouring lately.

Your thoughts spiral into comparisons, imagining this guy as the real-life version of the dreamy love interest from the story.

You’re so lost in your imagination that you don’t notice his sheepish movements until he scratches his jaw, seemingly trying to snap you out of it.

“Woah… You look…”

His quiet murmur barely registers in your distracted mind.

“But I thought you preferred softer clothing…? That’s why I…”

His voice trails off, leaving you blinking as you try to figure out what he’s talking about.

Realizing how spaced out you must seem, he quickly clears his throat, his face tinged with cherry-pink embarrassment.

“Ahem! Um… S-Sorry, I hope I’m not bothering you.”

He shifts on his feet, glancing at the books around him as if searching for a lifeline.

“I was just looking for… Uhh…”

The sound of his voice pulls you back to the present, and you mentally shake yourself out of your daze. The words spilling from his lips tumble out softly, and you can’t help but notice how they match his gentle, uncertain demeanor.

Suddenly, you feel a wave of self-consciousness. What is wrong with me? Pull it together, Y/N!

Your gaze flickers up to his face again, drawn irresistibly to his big blue eyes. They’re impossibly soft, like a watercolor painting, but there’s something hauntingly familiar about them.

And then you see it.

A glint of silver catches your eye—a ring hanging from a delicate chain around his neck. Your breath catches in your throat. That ring. That simple, unassuming band… It couldn’t be, could it?

No, it’s not possible…

A ring. Dangling from a chain.

Your breath hitches.

No… It couldn’t be. But as your eyes dart between the ring and his face, the realization slams into you like a tidal wave.

Those eyes.

The boy.

The boy.

Your legs feel like they might give out as you stare at him, your heart racing faster with every passing second.

It’s him.

But it’s unmistakable. The memories come rushing back, flooding your mind like a tidal wave.

The boy.

The boy from your childhood.

The one who used to run with you through the sun-dappled park. The one who’d promised, with a shy, earnest smile, The one who gave you a ring just like that before vanishing from your life, leaving behind nothing but a bittersweet ache in your heart.

And now here he was, standing right in front of you, wearing the very thing you thought you’d only ever see in your dreams.

You can feel your heart pounding in your chest, the rhythm chaotic and overwhelming. Those eyes—those impossibly blue eyes—stare back at you, still soft and warm, just as you remember.

He’s taller now, broader, more grown-up. But those eyes? Those haven’t changed. Not one bit.

Your mouth opens, but no words come out. Your throat feels tight, your thoughts scrambled. You’re struck between disbelief and certainty.

It’s him. It’s really him.

Your chest tightens as your gaze drops to the ring again—the one on the chain around his neck. And then, lower, to his hand.

A second ring sits snugly on his finger, in the spot where a wedding band would be.

Your mind reels, the pieces clicking together, faster than you can process. Tears threaten to spill as your heart twists painfully in your chest. You’ve found him.

After all these years, you’ve finally found him.

But—what’s with the pink hair?!

You feel like the biggest idiot in the world. Not because you’re suddenly self-conscious about your messy hair or the way your cardigan doesn’t quite match your outfit. Not even because you spent the past five minutes spacing out like an awkward weirdo.

No, you feel like an idiot for not realizing it sooner.

But you weren’t wrong about those eyes. Not then. Not now.

You blink rapidly, willing yourself to say something—anything—but all that comes out is a stammered:

“I—uh…”

He tilts his head slightly, his brows knitting together in mild concern. His voice, soft as ever, pulls you from your spiraling thoughts.

“Are you okay?”

Okay? How could you possibly explain that your world just flipped upside down because you’re standing face to face with the boy who disappeared from your life, only to return looking like he stepped straight out of a daydream?

You swallow hard, gripping the edges of the book cart in front of you for stability. Your gaze darts back to the ring for a moment, as if needing further confirmation that this isn’t just some cruel trick of the light.

But it’s there. Just like those eyes.

“It’s… nothing.” Your voice is quieter than you intended, almost lost in the vast silence of the aisle.

He seems unconvinced but doesn’t press you further. Instead, he gives a small, uncertain smile, shifting awkwardly on his feet. The motion causes the ring to glint again, mocking you with its undeniable truth.

You were an idiot.

But not about this. Not about him.

His voice pulls you back to the present, and you hastily try to make sense of the words tumbling from his cherry-tinted lips. Watching him struggle to find the right words makes your heart flutter with sympathy, and you offer him a reassuring smile, nodding encouragingly.

At that, he takes a deep breath and tries again.

“…I need some help. I—I’m looking for a specific book, you see, but…”

Aaaaand there it is—the sleeve-tugging. The endearing awkwardness in the way he shifts nervously, almost as if he’s in a scene straight out of one of those anime shows you and Moth were always obsessed with. You can’t help but think, Moth is going to lose it when I tell them about this later.

The stranger in front of you inhales shakily once more before speaking again. This time, though, his voice is steadier, more confident, and there’s a fire in his eye.

“…Do you have any books on native flora? The best I’ve found are on generic wildlife, but nothing on Corland Bay’s plants.”

Native flora? The first thought that crosses your mind is to introduce him to Violet—she’d love to help. But then you snap back to the present, chuckling softly to yourself as you step closer to him, scanning the shelf beside him.

He almost seems to flinch at your sudden proximity, but he doesn’t move away. In fact, he leans just a little closer, his head tilting towards yours. You don’t notice it at first, but his breath hitches when your scent reaches him, and for a moment, the air between you feels heavier.

“No, you’re definitely in the right aisle. Those kinds of books are just… more hidden, I guess.”

You step past him this time, making your way over to the lower section of the shelves. Your fingers skim over the spines of the books absent-mindedly, until you find exactly what you’re looking for. You pull it out, giving the cover a once-over before holding it out to him.

“Is this what you’re looking for?”

You barely notice how his gaze trails over your form as you adjust the book in your hands, your focus more on the misplaced cookbook on the shelf than the stranger behind you. You wonder if this book is really that interesting or if he’s just that into nature. Either way, he takes a tentative step forward and reaches out, pulling the book from your grasp with his shaky fingers.

He flips through a few pages, his eyes darting quickly over the contents, before giving a satisfied nod.

“Y-Yes! This was exactly what I was looking for! Thank you…”

You smile, relieved that you were able to help.

“I’m glad.”

Then, to your surprise, he suddenly adds with a soft laugh, “Haha, you’re like an angel sent down from heaven or something. You’re so helpful. Kind, too.”

Your eyes widen, unable to fully process what he just said. The words hang in the air, a bit too sweet, a bit too much for your heart to handle right now.

“…What?” you stammer, not sure if you heard him correctly.

“W-What?”

He seems mortified, his face flushing as he stammers in embarrassment. “Oh! I—I didn’t—Did I say that out loud? I didn’t mean to! Ugh, that must’ve been so weird… I’m so sorry!”

The sight of him about to crumble into a ball of nerves makes your heart clench. You quickly raise your hands in a reassuring manner and give him a gentle smile.

“Hey, it’s fine! No need to freak out. I just… I wasn’t expecting someone to say that about me, is all.”

He looks at you, still flustered, but with a relieved smile. “R-Really? Well, I think it’s true for what it’s worth.”

“Um… Thanks?”

You figure that’s your cue to leave before things get even more awkward. You offer him one last friendly smile and glance subtly back toward the reception desk, hoping for some excuse to break away. But the eccentric man shows no signs of moving. Instead, he just stands there, staring down at you expectantly.

Did he want to continue the conversation? It seems unlikely since he hasn’t said anything—he just… watches you.

Awkwardly, you clear your throat for what feels like the millionth time today and gesture vaguely toward the reception desk behind you, hoping that’ll be enough to send him on his way.

You both just stand there, locked in an awkward silence, staring at each other. It’s as if the world has slowed down, the only sounds being your heart thumping in your chest and the soft shuffle of his feet on the library floor.

“…Uh. Y-You shouldn’t stare at me like that,” you say, trying to break the tension, your voice coming out more softly than you intended. He looks at you like a good boy, all wide-eyed and unsure, making you feel even more self-conscious.

“Especially when it’s with a stranger you don’t know,” you add, puffing out a little sigh of frustration. God… You mutter under your breath, cursing yourself for even thinking about it. You never should’ve said that. Not when your almost childhood fiancé is standing right in front of you.

Nevermind, you tell yourself, swallowing your thoughts before they spill out any further.

He blinks at your words, clearly caught off guard, but instead of retreating, he straightens up slightly, a sheepish smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“Actually… Now that I think about it, you haven’t told me your name yet,” he says, almost as if the realization had just dawned on him.

You sigh, feeling a mix of amusement and annoyance at how easily he shifts back to normal.

“Oh! Haha, I guess you’re right.”

You’re overthinking like an idiot. Your mind is racing, completely trapped in the realization that this is him. How did you not see it sooner? Those eyes. Those damn blue eyes. You didn’t even tell him anything about yourself, and yet here he is, standing right in front of you. Your heart nearly stops when he almost says his name as Redact—but you hold that damn smile like a minion, forcing your cheeks not to puff up in pure disbelief.

You can’t look away. You can’t stop staring at him. Is this really happening? Is this just some twisted dream? There’s no way—no way it could be him, right?

But then he speaks again, effortlessly breaking your spiral.

“Do what? Anyway! You can just call me Ren if you’d like,” he says, giving you a soft, almost amused smile.

Ren? Wait, what? Is it really him? Was he even flirting with you just now? Your mind whirls even faster, trying to process everything all at once.

“Is it alright if I call you Y/n? Although… Angel does suit you just as well, haha,” he adds, the tone of his voice making your heart race even more.

What. The. Hell. Just happened? Were you imagining things? Were you really just caught in some weird flirty moment with someone who looked like… him?

But then you gather enough courage to ask, your voice a bit more unsteady than usual.

“How did you know my name? I don’t remember telling you.”

Ren’s smile only grows. “Silly, it’s on your name tag.”

He reaches forward with that graceful, fluid movement and gently flicks the name tag that you somehow forgot you were even wearing this morning.

“Oh,” you mutter, realizing the awkwardness of it all.

For a second, you almost feel relieved. Maybe it wasn’t him after all—maybe it was just your mind playing tricks on you.

But no. Those eyes. They never lie. You know exactly who you’re standing in front of. The boy. The blue eyes. You can’t deny it any longer.

It’s him. It’s really him.

Ren’s voice cuts through the air, almost playful in its tone.

“Say, are you busy later? I’d love to thank you for helping me find this book.”

Seriously, what is up with this guy? One minute, he’s shy, barely able to string a sentence together, and the next, he’s boldly asking to spend time with you. It’s almost like he’s testing the waters, trying out different sides of himself to see which one you respond to better.

You hesitate for a second before replying, still trying to process everything that’s been happening.

“Actually, I’ll be busy this afternoon,” you say, trying to keep things casual. “Need to buy a new lock for my apartment.”

Ren furrows his brow at that.

“A new lock? That doesn’t sound good. Can I ask why?”

You pause for a second, mulling over whether or not you should tell him. But, it doesn’t seem like there’s any harm in it. He’s a stranger, but what’s the worst that could happen? It’s not like he’s going to show up at your door and test the lock himself.

“Apparently, someone broke into my apartment last night, and I didn’t even notice. I don’t think they stole anything, but still. It’s creepy,” you say, feeling the unease creep up on you again.

You shrug slightly, trying to brush it off as casually as you can.

“I figured it’s better to be safe than sorry, you know?”

Ren looks genuinely concerned, his gaze softening as he listens.

“Stay up all night if you have to. Really get the edge on them,” he says, an odd but kind suggestion.

You can’t help but laugh at that. There’s something about his words—so unexpected yet sincere—that make it hard not to warm up to him. He seems more relaxed now, his usual awkwardness replaced by something far more comfortable. Maybe this is the side of him you like better.

“Yeah? And who’s gonna be the one to beat the guy up at 3AM?” you joke, though the thought of it does make you feel a little safer, somehow. “Because last I checked, I’m not really the type to go around throwing punches at people I don’t know. And definitely not before the sun is up and shining.”

Before you can even finish your thought, Ren speaks up, his voice steady and confident.

“I could do it for you,” he says without missing a beat.

You blink, not sure if you heard that right.

“You?” you ask, clearly surprised. “But— I mean, we don’t even know each other that well, and…”

Ren shrugs, unfazed.

“That’s fine,” he says with a grin. “I could tell you aaaall about myself on the walk there.”

Your eyebrows furrow as you take in his words, and you can’t help but feel your heart skip a beat. There’s something about his confidence, something different from the shy guy you met moments ago.

“My whole life story and everything,” Ren continues, his grin widening. “Where I was born, the school I went to, how many cute librarians I’ve met…” He pauses, then adds, with a mischievous twinkle in his eye, “Which happens to be one, so far.”

You open your mouth to say something, but before you can, Ren seems to pick up on your reaction—your discomfort, or maybe your surprise—and quickly backtracks.

“Ah, well,” he stammers, clearly realizing his words weren’t exactly what you expected. “What I meant was… You know, you’re really…uh…nice. And helpful. Really helpful. Sorry if that sounded weird.”

You pause for a moment, your mind racing as Ren’s words continue to echo in your head. He could really help me out… You bite your lip, fighting off the unease that comes with letting a near-stranger into your space. But… he did seem strong, and the idea of not facing this alone makes the decision easier.

“Actually… you could come by my place,” you say, surprising even yourself. “I mean, you seem strong enough to handle anything if, y'know, something goes wrong. Plus… you did offer.” You give him a small, reassuring smile, hoping he doesn’t take it the wrong way.

Ren’s eyes widen slightly, clearly surprised by your suggestion. But just as quickly, his expression shifts to one of eagerness, almost too eager. A wide grin spreads across his face.

“Yeah? Sure!! Of course! I’ll be there!” He practically beams, his earlier shyness vanishing. It’s like a switch flipped, and now he’s practically bouncing in place.

You can’t help but smile back at him, but a small voice in the back of your mind nags you. What are you doing? You barely know this guy. Still, the idea of him coming over… it almost feels right. Maybe you’re being a bit of an idiot, but at this moment, you don’t really care. You nod to yourself, deciding to just go with it. He might be exactly what you need.

But then, just as you’re about to say something else, the sound of heels clicking across the floor interrupts you. You turn, and there’s Eleanor, walking up to the desk with that ever-sweet, slightly apologetic expression on her face.

“Hey, uh, your boss is here,” she says, clearly noticing the way Ren’s mood shifts instantly.

Ren’s smile falters just a bit, and for a second, you think you see something close to irritation flash across his face. But just as quickly, it’s gone, replaced by a polite smile. He shifts his gaze back to you, his posture still tense.

“Guess I’ll see you later?” he says, voice a bit lower than before.

You feel a pang of disappointment, but quickly shake it off.

“Yeah, I’ll see you,” you reply, still smiling. “Take care of him, Eleanor.” You give her a pointed look, making sure she knows to keep an eye on him while you’re gone.

With that, you quickly turn on your heel, not wanting to linger any longer. You’ve already made your decision. Time to move on. You wave a quick goodbye to Ren, your heart still pounding, and make your way out, hoping that whatever this is… doesn’t turn into something you’ll regret later.

Poor Ren, though. You can’t help but feel a little bad leaving him with Eleanor—poor soul. You can only imagine how that conversation is going to go.

You hurry out of the store, a strange feeling pulses in your chest—like something you’ve forgotten is suddenly coming back. Your mind keeps flashing to Ren, his words, the way his eyes shifted when you suggested he come to your apartment. Wait a minute…

You stop mid-step, your breath catching. It can’t be him… But as you replay everything in your mind—the soft, nervous demeanor, the blue eyes that glinted with something familiar, the awkward charm—Oh my god. It hits you like a lightning bolt. You weren’t an idiot! You did know him.

Ren was the boy who confessed to you all those years ago. The one Leon had scared off, That was him. The memories rush back. The shy, stuttering confession, the flushed face, the way he’d stood in front of you, unsure of how to make himself heard.

He was your childhood almost fiancé —the one who slipped away from your life without you even realizing it. You could hardly believe it, but now everything made sense. The way he’d been so eager to talk to you, his sudden confidence after the awkwardness—it was like he had been waiting for this moment, for you to recognize him.

You gasp, your heart racing. Ren No, Redacted. He’s been here this whole time.

You turn around, the impulse to rush back almost overwhelming, but then your feet freeze. What are you going to do? Run back to him and admit everything? Or would that make it all worse?

But before you can make up your mind, the voice in your head interrupts, a soft laugh escaping your lips. Screw it. You found him. Your childhood crush, who had somehow slipped through your fingers and now stands before you again.

This is it.

[vinnellamadz]

~ Introduction ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

—————-౨ৎ-—————

ᡣ𐭩 Hello! My name is Vinnella, or Madz, anything is fine ^^

ᡣ𐭩 I’m 19, and my pronouns are she/her

ᡣ𐭩 I like to write but I am very slow so please bear with me if you request something

~ Things I write for .•⁀➴

ᡣ𐭩 Hazbin Hotel/Helluvaboss

ᡣ𐭩 Epic The Musical

ᡣ𐭩 Homicipher

ᡣ𐭩 Killer Chat

ᡣ𐭩 The Kid at The Back

ᡣ𐭩 l4 Days With You

I’d like to focus this blog on what it was made for obviously (Hazbin Hotel) but I’d also like to write for more of my interests ^^

if there’s something you want that isn’t on the list you can request it and I might write it depending on if i know it or not

Masterlist જ⁀➴ (TBD)

Hazbin Hotel

-Lucifer-

X reader HCs

Valentines HCs

-Adam-

X reader HCs

Enemies to Lovers

Random HCs

This will be updated once I figure out how to make it look better ^^

~ Thank you for reading ！╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

[lostalioth]

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐬𝐞

→ premise: all logan wanted after a hard and long day was his girl and if he has to chase her around the house a little. even better.

→ pairing: logan howlett x fem!reader

→ warnings: smut | 18+, unprotected sex, primal kink [sort of?], logan chase’s reader, free use, nicknames [my girl, baby, sweet girl], daddy kink, logan calls himself daddy [and old man once], bathroom sex

→ a/n: kinktober 14

Logan was a simple man all he needed was his girl after a long hard day. It was an ache deep in his adamantium bones that he couldn't explain. An ache that seeing your pretty face beaming at him the second he pushes open the front door melted from his abused body.

You however decided that today for a little extra fun, you wanted to be a brat and run from Logan instead of greeting him at the door like his good girl. “C’mon you're really gonna make ya’ old man chase you sweet girl?” He groans, barely using any strength or energy as he slowly follows you as you bounce around the house. He was exhausted and yet he couldn't deny that thrill that shot down to his cock as his jeans thighted when he thought of catching you, he knew he could. Admittedly yes he had a large advantage over you, he was a mutant and you weren't. The idea that you couldn't get away even if you tried sent an ache to your core that made you push his buttons further.

“Afraid you won’t catch up to me daddy?” You giggle and tilt your head in his direction as you made the mistake of standing still.

A boardline primal growl leans his lips causing your eyes to widen, your heart thumping harder and faster in your chest. “Ya’ asked for it baby” he chuckles darkly sending shivers down your spine as he rushes forward in a sudden burst of effort. A squeal leaves your lips in surprise as your instincts kick in as fast as humanly is possible and you spin on your heel running away from your beast of a boyfriend.

“Lo!!” You squeak out, a heat spreading through your body in a mixture of fear and arousal as you try your hardest not to get caught just yet. After a few minutes of manganing to practically run from Logan in circles around the house, on impulse you make a wrong turn and run into your shared bedroom and the attached ensuite bathroom. “Oh fuck, fuck, fuck” you curse out as you come to a halt suddenly at a dead end.

”Aww you got ya’ self trapped now sweet girl” Logan’s deep voice filled the echoing bathroom, making it feel like he was surrounding you as he creeped up behind you. Right as you spin your body around to face him, he’s on you in a flash pressing you back against the cold counter. “Did you really think you could outrun me baby? Or did the idea of daddy catching you excite ya’? Huh?” He taunts, his large calloused hands encircling your hips as he pushes his body against you further pinning you in place against the bathroom counter. You let out a short pathetic whine when his thumb runs along the band of your skirt toying with it. “Well? Daddy’s waiting on an answer” he presses with his thumbs against your hip bones before one hand travels up and makes its way under your shirt, working at undoing your bra.

“I wanted daddy to catch me” you gasp out when he pops open your bra under your shirt, pushing the straps off your shoulder and letting it fall to the tile floor. Warm rough hand palming over your now exposed breasts.

”Such a bad girl, making me chase ya’ just for some excitement” he tsks as his hand leaves your chest and he turns his attention towards unbuckling his belt and pushing his jeans down his thighs alongside his boxers to free his aching cock. His cock slaps against his stomach, the tip red and leaking down his thick shaft. “Specially’ when ya’ know all daddy wants to come home to is his girl all ready for him to use” he lightly shakes his head, both of his hands now pulling down your skirt revealing the fact you weren't wearing any panties. A rush of cold air hits your exposed bare cunt making you squirm in his hold, your eyes glazing over as you look at the proud look that now over takes Logan's face.

“Oh fuck.. you were ready huh baby? My girls s’sweet to me, not wearing any panties while she’s waiting f’me to get home fuck” he growls out, his tactic of going slow flying out the window now. He quickly pushes your skirt all the way down your legs letting you step out of the puddle of your combined clothes on the floor. Grabbing a hold of your plush ass he is quick to lift you up, sitting you down on the cold marble countertop and wrapping your legs around his wide hips. “Daddy!” You let out a short gasp as he smacks his throbbing tip against your clit before lining it up at your entrance and pushing all the way inside with one sharp and hard thrust.

“S’good for me sweet girl, love my little free use girl” he mumbled out in a slurred together mess, the stress of his long day leaving his body as his hips pull back and snap forward to meet yours, pounding his cock deep inside you. His cock already hitting the spot that makes you see stars repeatedly with every hard thrust into you. “Fuck! Lo~” you cry out, your eyes screwing shut as you wrap your arms around his neck and bury your face in his neck.

“Thought bout’ this sweet pussy all day baby, just wanted to come home to my sweet baby s’bad” he growls out, his balls tightening the more your cunt clenches down on his cock. Gripping onto the back of your neck he pulls your face away from his shoulder to crash his lips against yours to muffle the groans that slip past his lips in pleasure. Logan never used to be this vocal in bed, not a real big fan of talking during sex but he can't help the sounds and dirty words that fall from his mouth when he is buried to the hilt inside your cunt.

“Daddy m’gonna cum, pleasee let me cum” you plead into his lips in a broken moan as the band in your stomach tightens more and more with each slap of his balls against your ass. “Cum f’me sweet girl” he coos pulling away to rub his thumb over your check watching as his favorite sweet blissed out look spreads across your face when the band snaps.

With a wonton cry of Logan's name and mumbles of ‘thank you’ fill the bathroom you gush all over his cock when your orgasm washes over you. Your cum creates a creamy ring at the base of his cock, his hips not flattering in their thrusting making you let out a whimper as the stimulation steadily becomes too much, his tip abusing your g spot countiually even after your climax ends. “Lo…daddy, cant take no more” you whine out, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes and the pleasure mixes with slight pain from overstimulation.

“M’sorry sweet girl, daddy isn't done with his girl yet, it’s okay baby just let daddy use ya’ a little more okay?” He grunts out, his fingers digging into your hips as his head falls against your chest, pants and groans tumbling from his mouth mixed in with praise and moans of your name. Logan desperately needed this moment to last just a bit longer before that ache settled into his body again.

→ a/n: i didnt proofread this, im in to much of a rush to get this out today as well as start on the two fics i need to post to to get on track with kinktober

[talkbycolor]

MC's kindergarden . . . ↷

Yanderes as toddlers AU

GN!Reader as a teacher who doesnt get paid enough for this.

CW: just a bunch of weird kids wanting to marry their teacher, keep scrolling

Sunny Day Jack.

the golden child, the angel of the classroom, he is a little devil in disguise, getting his classmates into trouble so that his teacher thinks he is the best

he looks like a mini teacher, he teaches colors to his classmates and shares everything (except the teacher)

uses guilt to convince his teacher, but with that little face and red cheeks, who wouldn't fall for it?

a very intelligent child but he is selfish, he learned to steal cookies from the kitchen and has not told anyone

he gives part of his lunch to his teacher, he likes to eat and sit next to him, he is the child who gives bouquets of flowers picked from the playground (MC already scolded him so he should look for other places to get flowers)

MC doesn't usually scold him often since he manipulates and makes kicked puppy eyes to get his way, a mini bastard

John Doe.

probably autistic and socially anxious child, very attached to MC, they must always accompany him to go to the bathroom, he eats in the classroom during recess time while MC teacher accompanies him

this is the child you have to make sure doesn't go through the trash or eat the crayons

he is actually a very sweet boy, MC usually combs his hair before school so it doesn't bother him, for some reason Doe always has it tangled and dirty

he can't count to 10 with his hands, poor thing

cat-like affection, gives insects or interesting things he found on the playground to his teacher

when the children play house, he is the mascot

Alan Orion.

boy obsessed with outer space, his lunch box and clothes are full of planets and stars

wants to impress MC with his knowledge about space, he usually tells them facts about galaxies and constellations during classes

MC of course would notice certain marks on Alan's little body, he would feel protective of the child (llamen al dif)

he steals things from his classmates, he was already scolded several times by MC

animal lover, once brought a moth he found on the playground into the classroom and Doe ate it, he cried for thirty minutes while MC comforted him

when he plays with puppets he pretends that one puppet is him and the other is MC, usually his games are of them getting married and living in the forest

Peter Dunbar.

a very sociable child simply because he is indifferent to all other people other than MC, he enjoys causing mischief to his classmates who play with MC

MC has to make sure Peter doesn't bite his fingers or scratch his face, a habit he has while concentrating

Peter looks like a bald rat when it's very hot weather, which MC finds funny, but they still puts sunscreen on him so the boy doesn't get sun-burned

even though there are many things that Peter doesn't like, like swimming, fruits or singing, he would do it for MC, adding the biggest embarrassment of his life by doing group dance with his classmates but happy to see his favorite teacher smiling

he would bring sweet lunches to share with his teacher, lying by saying that it is too much and he can't eat it all by himself (Peter loves sweet lunches but he loves his teacher more)

probably draws him and MC on the board with lots of hearts around them, causing the other kids in the classroom to start crying because they want to be the only ones for MC

Ren.

a cutie with his teacher, a bastard with everyone else, he knows how to maintain that image very well to fool MC

he sneaks into the staff room to see you, very attentive, isn't he? sometimes he leaves small gifts on your table

fights with Peter every time he tries to get him in trouble with the teacher, he must maintain his good boy reputation for you to love him!

the last time a girl confessed to him, Ren pushed her into the mud of the playground and made her cry, unfortunately the girl told MC and Ren also cried, not because of the scolding but because he didn't want MC to think that he was bad

once he saw you outside of class time, you were at the supermarket and he panicked because he had fake tattoos that he put on (they came in the packaging of the gum he ate)

MC would come to think that Ren lives in a super religious way since he always draws angels. Ren doesn't draw angels, he draws an angel (you)

Mycheal.

another little manipulator but this one cries every time he tricks MC and gets hugs illicitly (little baby)

he is a very hardworking child in class when it is time to do manual work, he likes to make small paper flowers for his teacher

the baby gets very sad every time he is left out of school projects, he doesn't know why no one seems to like him. surprisingly, he managed to get along fairly well with John Doe until he noticed his interest in MC

usually wraps his tail around MC's leg whenever he feels nervous or sick, that has been an indicator for MC to lull the child

kid who is a cotton candy fan, Peter pushed him while they were playing on the playground and his candy fell to the ground (he cried for 40 minutes)

kitten boy starts purring when MC praises his work

Keith and Tenebris.

as for them, I decided that they were twins in this AU (tenebris still has his blue skin and strange smile), they don't seem to get along very well and have a marked rivalry because they both want MC for themselves

Keith usually hates being in the classroom because his classmates are very noisy, MC has tried to help him with the overstimulation so that it is not an uncomfortable experience, since then Keith loves going to kindergarten

Tenebris does not get along with most of his classmates (if not all), he came close to befriending John Doe and Mycheal because they know what it's like to be treated differently because of how they look, but Doe scared him off by showing him a pair of beetles he found on the playground and Mycheal…well, just by being a liar

Keith is a very dedicated child, he likes to take care of the flowers in the playground with the help of MC, his teacher usually reads books about facts about flowers and apparently Keith is one of the few who pays attention (he cries every time that Jack plucks flowers from the garden to give them to MC)

Tenebris uses a toy guitar from the classroom to serenade his favorite teacher, that always kills MC with cuteness (Tenebris gets angry because it's not a real guitar)

when there are school trips, Keith always takes his teacher's hand and tries to pull them to see everything he finds interesting with them, whether it's a flower or a heart-shaped cloud

Tenebris always takes advantage when playing with swords with his classmates to satisfy his violent need to hurt everyone who likes MC, the game ends up turning into a real battle and Tenebris is scolded

Solivan Brugmansia.

at first glance, MC thought that the boy was always upset and didn't like him being around, but Sol just doesn't know what to do like when he's around his favorite teacher

the quiet child in the classroom, prefers to do his work alone, always takes the opportunity to draw MC with chalk on the playground

the boy is obviously obsessed (and not in a fun way) with his teacher, his parents came to the classroom angry because Sol had his sketchbooks full of sketches of you

you are the only person he allows to hold his stuffed animal, he leaves it with you whenever he goes to the bathroom and asks you to play with it, you don't think it's strange that Sol has a stuffed horse, children have strange toys all the time

Sol is clearly a target for bullying, you know it, you see it, so you have to constantly check that he is not hurt (Peter put gum in his hair once and he cried a lot)

SURPRISINGLY, he is one of the few children who has REAL friends, he has Hyugo, a classmate from another class, Hyugo knows about his crush on MC and is not very secretive, Sol has to cover his mouth or push him to the sandbox to make him shut up

Damon.

puppy love, usually chases other children on all fours and licks snot from his own nose

barks every time someone gets too close to MC but in the end the scolding is always worth it since MC teacher strokes his head when he doesn't promise it won't happen again (it will happen again)

he will believe anything you tell him, he is quite gullible with the things that MC says, if his teacher tells him that he can't dig holes in the playground because giant insects will come out of there that will eat everyone, Damon believes it

sweet tooth, loves chocolate, MC has to be careful with what his students eat, Damon often hides chocolate bars in his pockets and that always ends in MC confiscating the chocolates

Damon has a friend in another class who he calls DG, he is his best friend and again Damon is one of the few kids with real friends in your class, DG knows that Damon likes you but unlike Hyugo he is more secretive

when there are school dances, Damon gives his all, always trying hard, not only because he loves to dance but he also loves when his favorite teacher applauds and praises him

 ♡

[anto-pops]

The Mirror's Heartfelt Reflection - Sylus x Female!Reader

Summary: In the wake of helping Sylus deal with a few Wanderers terrorizing the N109 Zone, you find yourself neck deep in self-loathing. It isn’t his fault you’re insecure about your lackluster abilities, and it definitely isn’t his fault that you’re so hard on yourself. But he still takes it upon himself to prove just how incredible you really are, and when all is said and done, you find yourself forced to accept that maybe- just maybe- he's telling the truth.

Alternatively summarized as Sylus reverently worshiping you in front of a mirror with his fingers, then with his mouth, then with his... y'know...

Word Count: 15k

Warnings: 18+, explicit sexual content, self-esteem issues, body worship in front of a mirror, size difference, overstimulation

Full fic is now up on Ao3 here (with more diverse tags, as per usual)

It almost seemed cliche for the N109 Zone’s weather to always be dreary, but evidently rain, fog, and more rain was the norm for the danger riddled region. The steady pattering of water hitting the ground was all you could hear as you trudged through puddles towards Sylus’ house in the no-hunt zone, your fists clenched at your side as you did your best to will away your indignant anger. The crime lord of Onychinus was somewhere behind you, likely still bleeding from using himself as a human shield on your behalf, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care at present. 

After all, it had been his great idea to step in front of the Deluge Wyrmlord earlier. 

Sure, Sylus might be hard to kill. He might even be immortal, but that didn’t mean he was immune to pain. Yet for some unfathomable reason, he had opted to take the tail swipe the Wrymlord had aimed at you, leaving you to watch on in horror as his shirt was torn to shreds and an array of lesions and bruises alike blossomed across his chest. He had taken the hit without so much as a grimace, much to his credit, but you had fought the remainder of the fight riddled with frustration and fury. 

In short, you were pissed. 

The gargantuan mansion swam into sight through the unrelenting downpour, and you doubled your pace at the same time you heard Sylus’ even footsteps getting closer to you. You didn’t want to talk to him– you didn’t want to talk to anyone. The emotions that gnawed at your stomach were borne of insecurities that you didn’t want to face right now, and with that somber thought in mind, your main priority was taking a hot shower to fend off a potential cold from taking root. 

With more force than was probably necessary, you shouldered the front doors of the house open, not bothering to look behind you when you heard the massive slabs of wood slam against the wall and groan on their hinges. Something moved in the sitting room to your left, and you saw Luke and Kieran jump up into defensive stances before relaxing slightly at the sight of you. 

“Jeez, what’s going on?” Kieran asked incredulously, his hands hovering inches away from his hip where you knew his weapon was hidden. “Where’s Boss?”

On cue, Sylus crossed the threshold of the doorway, made evident by the way the twins looked behind you in unison. Luke spoke up this time, his tone laced with obvious concern as well as surprise. “Holy… what happened? Where’s the Wanderer?” 

“Dead,” Sylus stated nonchalantly. You stopped in your tracks, halfway to the hallway leading towards the guest room, and turned to finally gauge the source of your irritation. 

He was covered in blood, but the deep gashes you’d seen on him earlier had long since been healed by his Evol. You couldn’t see any bruises beneath the frayed tethers of his shirt– just dirt that streaked down his skin due to the rain. His hair was dripping water onto his shoulders and down his cheeks, but aside from all the superficial damage, Sylus was well and truly fine. 

That only served to anger you further. 

The silver haired man turned his ruby red eyes on you, his scrutinizing gaze laced with curiosity as he silently tried to figure out what had led to you storming away from him in the wake of defeating the Wanderer. You pursed your lips and jerked your chin up in a stubborn act of defiance, keeping your expression icy as you met his unwavering stare. 

“Did something else happen out there?” Luke asked cautiously, joining his twin and his boss in staring at you from across the room. The airy laugh that slipped from Sylus was devoid of any humor, and he shook his head in disbelief as he traced his fingers over the massive tear in his button up. 

“Aside from the Wanderer trying to use its tail as a battering ram, no. Although one might think Miss Hunter over there wanted to have her ribs caved in, what with how much hissing she did after the fact.” 

Your blood thrummed in your ears as you began to shake with obvious rage. “I was not hissing. You were completely careless jumping in front of me like that. You’re always doing those sorts of things– why?” 

“Because I can handle it, sweetie.” His matter-of-fact tone did little to quell your vexation, and the way Luke and Kieran both seemed to look away in embarrassment didn’t help matters, either. Having this discussion in front of them was the absolute last thing you wanted to do. Besides, it wasn’t their fault you were angry. If you were being honest, it wasn’t even Sylus’ fault that you were so upset either. 

No, the person you were the most disappointed with was yourself. 

You threw your hands in the air, exasperated with the situation as a whole, and turned around to continue on to your assigned bedroom. “Fine, whatever. Keep using yourself as canon fodder, see if I care.”

“Where are you going?” Sylus called after you, sounding more tired than he had moments prior. “There’s still two more Wanderers near the eastern border that need killing, kitten.”

“I’m going to shower,” you retorted sharply. 

“A little rain and you want to call it quits? I thought you agreed to help me with this–” 

Almost to your room, you shouted down the hall, “The Wanderers will still be there when the rain stops. Go change your shirt or something while you wait and leave me alone.” 

The resounding slam of the guest room door echoing down the corridor spelled the end of the conversation. You didn’t stop to listen through the walls to see what else Sylus and the twins were discussing, instead heading straight for the bathroom and cranking the shower knob to the highest setting. The cold, soggy clothes that stuck to your skin were peeled away swiftly and left on the floor before you stepped under the scalding water to begin scrubbing, your own mind tormenting you all the while. 

The loudest thoughts that seemed to reiterate themselves over and over again were the ones that had been hounding you for as long as you could remember. 

You’re a liability. You’re weak. You’ll always need protection. 

Even the rush of water cascading down your head couldn’t drown them out. 

—

“Again.”

Although Kieran had his mask on, you could practically see the disbelief on his face through his posture alone. His shoulders sagged, and the kickboxing pad he had clutched in his white knuckled grip dropped to the floor in exasperation. “We’ve been at it for hours. How many more times do you plan on doing this? My arm is going to fall off pretty soon.” 

“Again,” you repeated sternly as you wiggled your fingers, the dull ache in your knuckles barely noticeable through the wraps that protected your fists. “If you want to take a break, give the pad to Luke.” 

The twin in question immediately swiveled away from the weapon stand in the corner, raising his hands in front of himself as though to ward you away from him. “No way,” he said tightly. “You already missed the pad and kicked me in the ribs twice. I’m done being your sparring dummy.” 

Kieran threw his free arm up before letting himself fall backwards onto the floor of the sparring ring. The other arm he still had looped through the back of the boxing pad fell beside him with a heavy thud, and you sighed with obvious frustration as you stood straight and planted your hands on your hips. Sweat dripped down your temples and soaked through the loose workout clothes you had on, but you hardly paid it any mind as you glanced around the room for an inanimate object to use for training. Evidently the twins were a lost cause, and you didn’t feel like tracking Sylus down to ask him to practice with you. 

In truth, you were kind of avoiding him. 

After your outburst earlier in the morning, he had disappeared from the house entirely. You’d emerged from the guest room freshly showered and ready to head back out to finish dealing with the Wanderers, but upon entering the living room, you had found only Luke and Kieran. They had been annoyingly tight lipped about where their boss had run off to, but had assured you that he would be back in a few hours. Four hours had passed since then, and since you hadn’t particularly felt like trudging through the rain in search of him, you’d decided to make use of the twin terrors and work on your hand-to-hand in a bid to feel less… useless. 

You hated that you even thought of yourself in such a way, but it was a hard habit to break. Your Evol couldn’t serve you by itself in a fight, and unless you were fighting alongside someone with an offensive Evol of their own, all you had was your martial training. Anytime Sylus or any of your other companions accompanied you on your hunts, all you could do was resonate with them to empower… well, them. You felt like a glorified battery half the time– charging them up while you stood in the backline with your measly pistols. 

You knew it was unreasonable to feel that way. You knew you could stand on your own two feet and be a threat on the battlefield regardless of your Evol. Hell, you had been selected to join the Hunter’s Association Alpha Team immediately after graduating. That had to count for something. 

And yet, it wasn’t enough. 

Another agitated sigh slipped through your teeth as your fingers flexed of their own accord. Kieran was still an unmoving lump on the floor, and Luke warily went back to polishing the collection of blades propped up on the weapon stand. Neither one of them could be persuaded– you were already acutely aware of their stubbornness– so you fixed your eyes on the punching bag strung up from the rafters. It wasn’t sentient, and it couldn’t hit back, but it was as good a target as any for your internal turmoil. 

Just as you were about to duck through the ropes that surrounded the sparring ring, Sylus’ gravelly voice drifted through the dimly lit workout room, halting you in your tracks and drawing the immediate attention of the twins. “Don’t tell me you broke my henchmen,” he teased, his crimson eyes taking in the sight of Kieran sprawled across the floor with blatant amusement. “I know you’re supposed to do your reps until failure, but he looks half dead already.” 

“He’s lazy,” you muttered as Kieran threw aside the kickboxing pad, pushing himself to his feet as quick as his shaky limbs would allow. “They both are. Like fat house cats, content to nap all day.” 

“Excuse me?” Luke chimed in, his hands perching on his hips indignantly. “Say that to my bruised ribs, you tyrant. Why don’t you take your vendetta out on someone who can actually keep up.” 

His pale finger pointed straight at Sylus, who was still leaning leisurely against the doorframe with his hands in his pockets. He looked remarkably better than he had when you’d last seen him; no cuts or blood, no bruises, and no torn clothing. His simple black button up was tucked into matching black trousers, and his hair was once again effortlessly styled without a strand out of place. He looked more inclined to attend a business meeting rather than spar with you, but despite that fact, Sylus surprised you by shrugging and striding towards you, already rolling the cuffs of his sleeves up to his elbows. 

“You don’t have to,” you started to say, jerking your thumb over your shoulder towards the punching bag you’d decided on using. “I was going to make use of the other equipment–”

“Living targets make for much better practice, and I can promise you that I won’t tap out like a… what was the term? A fat house cat?” 

Luke and Kieran both scoffed and shook their heads simultaneously, mirroring one another so perfectly that it unnerved you. Kieran swung his legs over the nylon ropes of the ring and landed next to Luke, the two falling into step easily before heading for the door without another word to you or their boss. A tiny, barely there part of you wanted for them to stay to eliminate any awkwardness between you and your newfound partner, but the unspoken challenge in Sylus’ eyes quelled the words before you could utter them. 

The silver haired man hoisted himself up over the ropes effortlessly, bending down to snatch up the abandoned kicking pad from the floor before tossing it haphazardly over the edge of the ring. He waited until Luke and Kieran’s footsteps had disappeared completely from within the hallway before he spoke. “Think you can walk and talk, kitten?” 

Narrowing your eyes at him, you messed with the wraps on your fists before assuming your usual fighting stance. Shuffling your feet apart, you tested your balance as you murmured, “Why do we have to talk? There’s nothing to say.” 

A hint of a smirk pulled at the corners of Sylus’ mouth as he copied your movements, distancing his feet a healthy distance apart and dipping his chin below his raised fists. “I beg to differ. We could talk about your little temper tantrum earlier, or about how you’re being uncharacteristically snappy with Luke and Kieran. We could even talk about the weather if you’d like– it stopped raining, by the way.” 

You said nothing, instead grinding your molars together hard enough that your jaw ached. With Sylus too busy talking, you seized your opportunity and swung your leg out in a wide arc, narrowly missing his head when he smoothly dodged the blow with a wicked grin etched across his face. 

“I see, I see…” he taunted, glancing down obviously enough that you knew he was going to try sweeping your feet out from under you. Sure enough, Sylus dropped into a feline crouch, throwing his leg out as he pivoted himself around on his other foot in a dangerously fast circle. You jumped backwards– avoiding his outstretched limb completely– then dove back in for an immediate counter-attack. He was already standing when your fist connected with his palm, his massive fingers curling over your pathetically small hand as he threw you to the side painlessly, chuckling to himself all the while. Your blood thrummed in your ears, humiliation burning your cheeks from how easily he fended you off. Condescendingly, Sylus mused, “This is all because I jumped in front of you earlier, isn’t it?” 

“Stop talking,” came your disgruntled reply. Desperate to have one of your hits connect, you feinted left before darting back to the right, throwing out a jab-punch combo that grazed his neck at best and missed entirely at worst. 

After humorlessly avoiding your attacks, Sylus began moving, drinking in the sight of you panting and flushed in the middle of the ring. He circled you like a predator corralling its prey, and through the flurry of emotions that wracked you, mortification seemed to be the most prominent. 

“Am I to understand,” he started gruffly, “that you wanted the Wanderer to kill you?” 

“Of course not–”

“Because that’s exactly what would have happened had I not stepped in. You’re upset because I saved you from an agonizing, bone-breaking end, and I have to be honest, kitten, it makes absolutely no sense to me.” 

“That’s not why I’m angry,” you barked at him, wanting nothing more than to lash out with your fists again. Even if the hits didn’t meet their mark, you needed to expel the humiliation that coursed through your veins. 

Suddenly, Sylus was in your face. His overwhelming presence surrounded you, his inquisitive eyes boring into yours as he tried to search your mind for the real reason you’d been so put out all day. Quick as a whip, you shoved against his chest and turned your head away in a bid to protect the dreary thoughts that had plagued you for the bulk of the day. 

“Talk to me,” he half-commanded, half-implored you. “Tell me what thoughts are whipping around through that head of yours.” 

You scowled, turning away from him completely as you strode to the other side of the sparring ring. Sylus followed you easily, unwilling to let you mope your way out of his interrogation, and he planted himself squarely behind you as you started to undo the wraps protecting your fists. “It doesn’t matter. It’s nothing new, anyways…” 

The dejected tone lacing your words didn’t escape Sylus in the slightest, and in the reflection of the mirror straight ahead, you saw his brows furrow at the same time his lips formed a straight line. “Sweetie, if it’s nothing new, that’s all the more reason to talk about it. I know I’m not great at playing the role of a therapist, but if whatever’s bothering you is this serious, I’d like to help.” 

A deep, relenting sigh escaped you at that moment. You unwound the wraps around your hands and let the bandages flutter to the floor listlessly before hesitantly turning back around to face the silver haired man. Sylus’ striking eyes were narrowed with concern, his expression conveying his worry for you plainly enough that you felt your heart trip over itself in your chest. He didn’t deserve to deal with the moodiness that came with your insecurities. Kieran and Luke didn’t, either. Even though it was embarrassing and disappointing to admit, you figured you could at the very least be honest about your diffidence. 

“You can’t help. That’s the thing. It’s– well, it’s stupid.” Sylus gazed at you expectantly, his eyes silently conveying that he would be the judge of that. Looking down at your feet, you forced the rest of the admission from your lips, even though it pained you to do so. “I just want to be able to protect myself. The same way you and all my friends can. I don’t want to have to rely on other people to defend me in a fight, but I don’t think that will ever be possible.” 

Sylus cocked his head to the side in confusion. “You do a pretty good job of defending yourself, kitten. You’ve come a long way since I found you kneeling all alone in the N109 Zone.” 

“It’s not that. I just…” For crying out loud, why was this so difficult? Maybe it had to do with Sylus quite literally being the strongest person you knew. Confessing your insecurities to the leader of Onychinus, the most wanted man in the world, wasn’t exactly child’s play in your mind. Still, you endeavored to try. “My martial training is all I’ve got. My Evol isn’t any good on its own. I can’t conjure fire or ice, I can’t manipulate gravity to lob boulders at enemies. I just… boost other people. I strengthen others, but on my own? I’m a liability.” 

Sylus crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back on his heel, tapping his fingers against his bicep thoughtfully. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but isn’t your ability incredibly rare? Anhausen Class Evols aren’t common. You’re actually quite valuable.” 

“Only if I’m fighting with someone who has an offensive ability,” you helpfully supplied, pointing at him for emphasis. “I don’t stand a chance against a Deluge Wyrmlord by myself. I have no choice but to rely on my partners for help. Even though I know it’s irrational and silly, I’ve always resented that. I just… I don't want to be weak.” 

Sylus took in your admission quietly, nodding to himself as his otherworldly eyes bored into yours. To say it left you feeling vulnerable was a monumental understatement. You felt raw. Laid bare before the one person you trusted most. It scared you to think he might think less of you for the revelation, even though deep down you knew Sylus would never judge you for it. 

Fidgeting uncomfortably, you bent down to snatch your wraps off the floor of the sparring ring, pausing before leaving as you tried to come up with what to say next. Sylus beat you to the punch, however, his gravelly voice drawing your attention back to him. “I know it’s subjective, but I’ve always thought you were a skilled fighter. Your Evol aside, you’re invaluable on the battlefield. Quick thinking and clever planning have gotten you far when we fight together. You aren’t a liability, sweetie, and you’re definitely not weak. I think you’re selling yourself short.” 

Your stomach lurched as you realized you’d heard similar placations in the past from your grandma. As worried as she had been when you’d passed your Hunter’s Exam, she was supportive of your career choice and had always done her best to encourage you. She had never wanted your heart condition to slow you down or influence your decision making, and you had convinced yourself a long time ago that she’d played a monumental role in you having made it this far. 

Unfortunately, self-doubt had been a nagging, longtime friend of yours. 

Flashing him a small but grateful smile, you nervously twirled your used wraps around your fingers before jerking your thumb over your shoulder towards the doorway. “Thanks. It’s not a big deal though, I’ll be fine. I’m, uh, going to go shower. Sorry for being a brat earlier, I’ll… I’ll work on the whole confidence thing later.” 

You were relieved that he didn’t stop you as you ducked under the ropes of the sparring ring. As grateful as you were about how he’d handled your admission, you needed some alone time to sift through your thoughts, and another piping hot shower was the perfect opportunity to do so. Reaching for the towel you’d left slung over the weapon rack in the corner, you tossed it over your shoulder and started to make your way to the exit, sneaking a quick glance at Sylus in one of the massive mirrors that lined the wall. 

He was still standing in the center of the ring, gazing straight ahead with a curious look playing on his features. It was an expression you’d seen many times before, usually when he was concocting a scheme of his in the spur of the moment. While part of you was appreciative of Sylus’ natural inclination to flock to your aid and try to make everything better for you, you sorely doubted that this would be one of those times. 

Unless you magically found a way to rid yourself of years worth of self-depricating introspection, you were convinced you would be stuck with these thoughts for the rest of your life. 

—

You had been reading for so long that you were certain your eyes were on the brink of falling out of your head. 

Having long since finished your shower, you’d taken to going over the datapad Sylus had given you the day prior. It was chock full of information on the Wanderers he had asked for help dispatching; where they were, previous reports of attacks linked back to them, their weaknesses. Most of the information was redundant. As a Hunter, you had intimate knowledge about the creatures and their habits. But following your uncomfortable confession earlier in the gym, you were curious as to whether or not it would be possible to handle killing the damn things by yourself. 

Not that you were going to try. You weren’t that stupid. Just… wondering. 

So far, the answer was no. It was suicide to go up against Wanderers of this calibre without an offensive Evol. That, or a good old fashioned, coordinated aerial strike. 

You had neither of those things. 

Sighing in annoyance, you set the datapad on your lap and shoved the heels of your palms into your eyes, rubbing hard enough to see shapes. It had been a couple of hours since you’d last seen Sylus, and you felt bad that your moping had gotten in the way of finishing the job he had brought you along for. There were two more Wanderers that needed killing; an Ignitus Wyrmlord and a Luminivore. Both were high ranking threats, so you doubted that the Onychinus leader would have gone out on his own to deal with them. 

But maybe he had. Maybe he had been staring off into space as you’d left the gym because he’d realized that you were right, and he was better off handling the creatures by himself. He wasn’t the type to wait for approval, much less your own, so the possibility wasn’t too outlandish to consider. 

You were hurting your own feelings thinking as much, though. 

With a muffled thump, you slapped your hands down on the bed and tossed your head back against the pillows. Maybe you needed therapy. Your dejected thoughts weren’t getting you anywhere, and they weren’t going to change anything. At the end of the day, you were who you were, and everyone else was… who they were. You brought plenty of value to the Hunter’s Association just by being yourself. Wishing to be stronger, faster, and more powerful wouldn’t make it happen. Those were traits acquired through hard work, dedication, and pure chance. 

Not by lying in bed reading. 

Just as you were about to shove the datapad off your lap to jump up from the bed, a knock sounded at the door. You nearly tripped over your duffel bag on your way to undo the lock, but once you yanked it open, you were surprised to find Luke on the other side. Or was it Kieran? Sometimes it felt like you were guessing who was who. 

“Sorry to bother you.” Ah, it was Kieran. “Boss asked me to send you up to him. He wants to talk with you.” 

Your brows furrowed and your eyes narrowed, immediately suspicious of the crime lord’s intentions. He had never sent for you before. “Okay…” the lone word was drawn out, your hesitation evident in your tone. “Where is he?” 

It was impossible to tell what kind of expression Kieran wore behind his mask, but his shoulders did stiffen a little in response to the question. He was as uncomfortable with the situation as you were. “He’s in his room. He didn’t seem mad, but I can honestly never tell with him. Good luck.” 

As suddenly as he arrived, he was gone. Literally. You blinked and Kieran had just vanished. He and his brother were as odd as they came, but you steeled your nerves and did your best not to seem rattled as you exited the guest room and padded your way towards the staircase. 

The last time you had stayed with Sylus, he had set you up in a different room on the second floor that was now home to a slew of antique weaponry that had yet to be unboxed. You didn’t mind the room change, but you were beginning to think Sylus had a shopping addiction. Sure, he had the money and never batted an eye at the exorbitant price tags attached to the items. But he never even used half of the things he bought. He really was like a crow. Or maybe a dragon was a better analogy, since he had a tendency to hoard everything he acquired from antique shows and business deals. 

It didn’t take long for you to reach the double doors leading to the master bedroom. The ornate entryway stood tall and forebodingly at the end of the hallway, illuminated by the dim lights that lined the walls. You rapped your knuckles against the dark wood softly, only deigning to let yourself in once you had confirmation from the owner of the chamber. 

“It’s open,” came Sylus’ silk-like voice from the other side. 

Tentatively, you pushed open the door and stuck your head through the crack, unsure of what to find waiting for you. It turned out to be nothing more than Sylus looking over a stack of papers, hunched over the desk in the corner with a clear glass of amber liquid pinched between his long fingers. Perplexed, you slipped inside all the way and shut the door behind you, watching and waiting for the silver haired man to acknowledge your presence. 

There were a few beats of silence as he reorganized the paperwork with one hand before finally turning to face you, bringing his drink to his lips as he did so. It was strange to see him drinking when there were still Wanderers lurking in the N109 Zone. You would have guessed he’d called for you so the two of you could finish the work you had started earlier in the day. Unless…

“Did you deal with the Wanderers already?” 

The only show of surprise on Sylus’ face was the elegant lift of his brow, and he acknowledged your tense posture near the door with a subtle dip of his chin. “You’re really worried about being deemed unnecessary, aren’t you?” 

It was a slap in the face to have the truth so boldly thrown back at you, but the truth did have a tendency to hurt. You nervously clasped your hands together in front of you, wringing your fingers together as your gaze swept across the room. “You disappeared for a while today. Then we never went back out to kill the other two Wanderers… I thought maybe you’d taken care of it yourself.” 

“Then you would be wrong, kitten.” Turning back to the desk, Sylus fluidly beckoned you towards him with one simple curl of his finger. You had half a mind to be stubborn about it, but with how you were feeling right now, you decided to just be obedient. Shuffling over to him, Sylus plucked the piece of paper at the top of the stack back up and held it out to you, watching you over the rim of his glass as he took yet another sip of his drink. 

“What is this?” You didn’t need to ask, as it turned out– you recognized the logo adorning the page instantly. It was a copy of the Hunter’s Association exam records. More specifically, your exam records. How the hell had Sylus gotten his hands on them? Your eyes roved up and down the parchment as you took in the familiar marks, then looked back at the crime lord expectantly. “Why do you have these?”

Tapping the side of his temple closest to his eye, he mused, “I have my ways. But I felt inclined to show you, because I found something interesting about your records.” 

He balanced his forearm on your shoulder as he pointed at the paper you held, and the smoky cologne he wore flooded your senses instantaneously. “Right here,” he pointed to the column on the far right of the page, “are all the divisions that exist within the Association. Scores that are high enough in each section open doorways into possible careers with the agency. Am I right?” 

You nodded. The scoring method allowed for everyone that took the test to have a high likelihood of getting a job, even if it was a lower level position. Only a select few individuals scored high enough to qualify for upper division roles, which was one of the main reasons why the Alpha Team was so small. Quality over quantity, Jenna had told you. 

Sylus continued on, sweeping his finger all the way down the page to where your scores were recorded. “You, my dear, sweet Hunter, managed to pass in every single category. There wasn’t one division you didn’t qualify for. You went straight to the top of the podium because they knew your worth, but to meet the requirements for all of it? That’s nothing to turn your nose up at.” 

Sylus’ motives were all beginning to make sense now. He had said it himself earlier; he wasn’t a therapist, but this was clearly his attempt at making you feel better about your self-critical thoughts. It was… nice of him. Really nice. Moreover, it was news to you. You had hardly looked at your exam results once you’d heard you had been selected to join UNICORNS, because that was all you had ever wanted. But to hear that you had passed with flying colors? Well…

“That doesn’t seem possible,” you muttered, flipping over the page to keep reading. 

Sylus chuckled under his breath and took another sip of his drink before setting the glass down on the desk. “It’s possible. I have it on good authority that it’s happened a few times in the past, but only a few. You could count on one hand the number of times a brainiac was admitted into the Hunter’s Association in the last five years.”

The paper in your hands went limp as you craned your neck to the side to stare up at him, a slew of emotions racing through your mind and imbuing you with the desire to understand. You wanted to grasp the why, more than anything. Why was Sylus going out of his way to make you feel better? Why did he care so much? Why, why, why? 

He seemed to understand the unspoken question based on your expression alone. The arm he had perched on your shoulder slid away, and he gently took the paper out of your hands and waved it tellingly beside his head. “You’re a far cry from a liability, sweetie. Just because your Evol works well with others doesn’t mean you bring nothing to the table, and believe me when I say that I’ll keep reminding you every chance I get.” 

That burning, one word question finally escaped you, sounding airy and uncomfortably meek as it was whispered between the two of you. “Why?”

Something shifted in the air then. A level of bone-deep understanding, of yearning, of unfathomable craving, sparked to life in Sylus’ eyes, and the sight had your breath catching and your lips parting. The leader of Onychinus tilted his head to the side as he took in every detail of your face, one lone strand of his silvery hair falling into his field of view, but it hardly deterred him from drinking in the sight of you before him. The corner of his mouth quirked up into a sly smirk, and he set the parchment back down on the table while maintaining eye contact with you all the while. 

“Because you’re worth the effort,” he evenly proclaimed. 

You damn near broke into tears. 

“Sylus…” you didn’t know what to say– what to do. It was unbelievably soft, the way he said the statement. Gentle and thoughtful and full of intention. He meant every word, and it wasn’t until he’d uttered the statement that you realized just how much you had needed to hear it. 

Taking note of your turmoil, Sylus swiftly captured your hand in his and began guiding you deeper into the room. You followed him dumbly, primarily because you were still processing the utter devotion you had seen glimmering in his ruby red eyes. When the two of you stopped, he released your hand and moved to stand behind you, placing one hand on your shoulder while the other gingerly clasped the underside of your jaw and angled your head straight ahead. “What do you see?” 

It took you a moment to realize that he had positioned you in front of a full length mirror propped up against the wall beside his bed. In the reflection, you could see his luminescent eyes peering at you from over your shoulder, the stark difference in your heights made all the more obvious with how the glass cut off the top portion of his head. Beyond that, though, you weren’t entirely sure what you were meant to be looking for. 

“You’re very tall,” you mumbled obtusely. That earned a throaty chuckle from the man behind you, and you watched as he shook his head to himself. 

“Not me, kitten. You. What do you see when you look at yourself?” 

Swallowing thickly, you forced yourself to cater to his line of questioning. Your eyes zeroed in on yourself, scanning your own image from head to toe as you took in every last detail of your appearance. Your hair had dried by now and looked to be rather frizzy, and your nostrils flared as you drew in a deep, steadying breath. Your breasts rose and fell in response to the action, and your toes dug into the carpet on the floor as you tensed nervously. This felt like a test that you were quickly failing, and the thought made you anxious. All in all, you had no clue what part of yourself to focus on. You were just… you. A woman unsure of herself with quite possibly the world’s most confident man standing behind you. 

The irony of that fact didn’t escape you. 

“I don’t know,” you muttered under your breath, and Sylus withdrew his hand from your jaw and trailed the appendage to grasp your other shoulder. “I just see me. Messy hair, pretty eyes, shorter than you.” 

Sylus smirked at you in the reflection, his hands dancing away from your shoulders to skim their way down to your biceps. “Do you want to know what I see?” 

Yes. No. Maybe? Your lips pursed, and you looked at him with a timid sort of anticipation. 

“I see a strong, capable woman,” he emphasized the statement with a subtle squeeze of your arms, drawing your attention to the toned muscle hiding beneath your t-shirt. “I see someone who’s put her entire heart and soul into bettering herself, both physically and mentally. I see a woman who pushes herself to improve constantly, even if she’s already doing a great job to begin with.”

His fingers slid under your arms to trail along your ribs, ghosting one of his hands up your torso to place his palm over your quickening heart. If he heard your breathing stutter, he didn’t acknowledge it. Instead, he bent down and nestled his chin in the crook of your neck from over your shoulder, murmuring his next words directly against your ear. “I see a talented Hunter who refuses to let her heart condition interfere with her goals. She remains headstrong, dutiful, and loyal to a fault, no matter the circumstances.” 

The muscles in your stomach flexed instinctively as Sylus dragged his hands sensually down your front, placing them over one another to allow for him to pull you flush against him. Your body reacted of its own accord, flushing hot at the close proximity and making you acutely aware of every dip and curve of the larger man’s body. Unconsciously licking your lips, your eyes flicked back to his in the mirror, your mouth slightly parted around shallow breaths. “I see a resilient human with a mildly concerning, seemingly bottomless appetite, but who somehow always goes out of her way to share her snacks. I think her love language might be gift giving, but it’s hard to tell. She’s got wit that’s so sharp that I’m convinced it’s a weapon in and of itself. She’s compassionate, caring, and annoyingly selfless.” 

“Sylus–”

“Ah,” he squeezed you tighter to him, silencing your objection before it could be fully expelled. “I’m not finished, kitten.”

Maybe not, but you were coiled tighter than a spring. You genuinely didn’t know how much more of his hedonistic touching and breathily whispered sweet-nothings you could take. A salacious sort of desire was flooding your veins, compelling you to turn around and act on your urges, but Sylus’ ironclad hold prevented you from doing so. He smiled smugly as though he was aware of your internal thoughts, nestling his chin deeper into the crook of your neck while his hands traversed lower, encroaching dangerously upon your nether region. 

“To get superficial, she’s unbelievably beautiful. She gets this certain look on her face when she’s really concentrated, and her nose tends to scrunch up like a cat hissing when she’s angry. Watching her fight is one of the most satisfying things on this planet. She’s fluid, graceful, and can drive home a killer roundhouse kick.” 

Ever so gently, Sylus turned his head so he could press his lips against your thundering pulse point, delivering a passionate but equally chaste kiss against your skin that made your eyelids flutter and your knees buckle. You were suddenly immensely grateful that he was holding you upright against him. He murmured huskily against your throat, “She might kill me if she hears this, but I love to watch her walk away from me. Her hips sway in this hypnotic way that drives me crazy, and she’s got these perfect legs on her that I love to imagine hanging over my shoulders.” 

Fuck.

When Sylus looked at you in the mirror through his lashes, you swore up and down that he was channeling some transcendent sex demon from another world. He looked carnal. Wholly and unequivocally erotic. The hunger that shone in his eyes had heat pooling rapidly between your legs, and you found yourself unconsciously clenching your thighs together to ease the growing ache there– a move that did not escape Sylus’ attention in the slightest. 

You could see the smile in his eyes as he toyed coyly with the hem of your pants, tracing his long, dexterous fingers along the elastic band and dipping the tips of his digits between the fabric and your skin. It was maddening– absolutely torturous– and all of it left you wanting more. 

More of his praise, more of his touch, more of his attention. More of Sylus. You had never felt so seen and desired in your entire life. Part of you didn’t even care if it was all lip service. You would gladly choose to believe Sylus’ pretty lies if it meant he would keep the veiled duplicity coming. The way he held you, touched you, spoke to you, commanded a feeling within your body that was addicting, and you desperately wanted more of it. 

Sylus broke your sinful train of thought with a lewd motion of his own; he boldly slipped his fingers under your waistband, tugging the material down your hips testingly but only daring to expose the outline of one of your hip bones. A shiver rolled down your spine as he caressed the uncovered bit of skin with his thumb, watching you like a predator from over your shoulder with unrestrained appetite. 

When you twitched your hips up a little to spur him onwards, he hesitated. You met his inquisitive gaze in the mirror once again, your flushed, riled appearance a stark contrast to his controlled, put together one. “Sylus,” you whispered breathily. “Please?” 

Ever the gentleman, Sylus obliged you with a throaty chuckle. He sensually dragged his fingers to the other side of your pants, tugging the attire lower and revealing inch after inch of your soft flesh. His long arms gave him the reach necessary to push the clothing all the way past your thighs, and it pooled in a disheveled heap around your feet with a barely there noise. Your underwear went next, and the anticipatory breaths you sucked down were the only sound that filled the otherwise quiet room. 

Bare from the waist down, your eyes flicked between your own body and Sylus, who seemed to be eating you alive with his lust-riddled gaze. He snuck one hand under your shirt, just below your breasts, as the other situated itself under your navel, and he held your gaze as he turned to take your earlobe between his teeth. The delicate feeling of his teeth clamping over it was entirely too delectable to admit, but you showed your approval in the form of a tiny, raspy moan. 

Releasing your lobe, Sylus pressed his lips against your ear, whispering seductively against you, “Now what do you see?” 

You watched helplessly as your face flushed an impressive shade of crimson, spreading down your neck and disappearing beneath the neckline of your shirt. The hand Sylus had hidden under there crept higher– skimming between your breasts as though seeking out the warmth that radiated there. Wide-eyed, nervous, and incredibly self-conscious, you struggled to bite out, “Me.” 

“I’ll tell you what; if you can be more specific, I’ll up the reward factor. How’s that sound?” 

You were positive you were going to die of embarrassment. Your mind was slow to process that this was actually happening– that Sylus had you held tight to him, his hands just inches away from two of your most intimate areas. How you had gone from being frustrated with him this morning to putty in his hands now was a mystery to you. What you did know for certain was that you wanted more of what he was offering. A lot more, if you were being honest with yourself. 

“I see you holding me,” came your shaky description. “With my pants around my ankles.” 

Humming his approval, Sylus began to move his hands to where you craved them. His fingers scraped along the light dusting of hair below your navel, sneaking ever-so-close to the wetness gathering between your legs. The other moved to cup one of your breasts, the pads of his fingers flicking over your hardening nipple and drawing an unsteady gasp from you. “Tell me what I’m doing, kitten. Be as precise as you can.” 

Silver hair flashed in your peripheral vision as Sylus ducked his head to mouth wetly under your ear, peppering a collection of noisy kisses along the slender column of your throat. At the same time he brought his mouth into play, his hands upped the ante; he simultaneously began rolling the peak of your breast between his fingers as the other, lower appendage started to explore between your folds, sliding easily through the slick that gathered there. The feeling was almost enough to keep you from answering him, but then you remembered his bargain. 

“You’re touching me. Kissing my neck. You’re playing with… with my breasts, and your hand is–” a strangled sound slipped past your lips as Sylus pressed the pad of his fingers to your clit, causing your legs to give out for a split second. “S-Shit…” 

Acting as your steadfast anchor, Sylus held you tighter to him as he backed up a few steps, sitting down on the edge of the bed with you firmly balanced on his lap. He made sure to keep you facing the mirror, much to your dismay, and he lifted his head from your neck to grin wickedly at you in the reflection. “Don’t stop now, kitten. You’re doing great…”

The attention he bestowed upon your bundle of nerves didn’t relent as he encouraged you, and your head fell back against his shoulder at the same time your hips bucked up into his touch. “I can’t, Sylus, I can’t–”  

“You poor thing,” he murmured against you, and you could feel his lips curl into a self-satisfied smile. “At least tell me how I’m making you feel.”

You weren’t sure if that was a better alternative or not, but you closed your eyes and let yourself focus wholly on the movements of his hands, relishing in the sensations that washed over your body in response. The fluttering ache in the pit of your stomach ebbed and flowed as Sylus pinched and tugged on your nipple, your toes curling as his long fingers danced around your clit and smoothly slid through your soaked slit. He teased the tips of his hand closer to your entrance, and your desire to feel him inside of you was overwhelming. 

“It feels good,” you managed to wheeze out through your teeth. “It feels really good– I feel hot.”

“Hot, huh? Should I stop and give you a chance to cool off?” 

The deviant behind you made a point to withdraw his fingers away from your wet heat, and you whimpered disapprovingly. You shook your head against his shoulder, cracking your eyes open to stare at him pleadingly in the mirror. “N-No, please– I want more. I want to feel you inside me. Please, Sylus?” 

Beneath the swell of your rear, you felt Sylus’ cock twitch against you, your begging evidently acting as his undoing. He tittered to himself shakily, the fingers that played with your nipple splaying to cup your entire breast, and the testing squeeze he gave the soft flesh had you melting against him even more. “I like the way you sound when you beg, kitten,” he rumbled, teasing his middle finger against your hole just enough to leave your hips trembling with barely contained want. “So well mannered, so polite.”

The praise left you boneless in his arms, amplified tenfold by the feeling of his digit pressing into you. You moaned fervently, your thighs instinctively sliding farther apart to give him more access. Your hands came to grip the forearm Sylus had wrapped around your waist, and you blearily watched as he buried his mouth into your neck again to sink his teeth into the junction of your throat, laving his tongue over the bite in-between his efforts to suck his mark into your skin. 

“Sylus…” you sighed, twitching your hips into his palm in a bid to derive friction against your clit. He catered to your attempts, pressing the heel of his hand against the bundle of nerves deliciously as he took to languidly pumping his finger into you. It was exactly what you’d been searching for, and he mindlessly squeezed your breast as you arched into him and let loose a deep, rumbling groan. 

Ruby red eyes met your half-lidded ones in the mirror as he broke away from your neck, the love-bite he’d left behind glowing bright against your skin. Venereal hunger emanated from him, his lips parting ever-so-slightly as he took in the sight of you falling apart on his lap. The blatant passion he gazed at you with was enough to make your head spin, your eyes fluttering shut once again. It was one thing to let yourself be overcome with such profuse pleasure, but it was a whole other thing to watch it be bestowed upon you. It was a level of intimacy you had never considered– never imagined– and you couldn’t decide if you found the entire display erotic or embarrassing. 

Maybe it was a little bit of both. A lot of both, actually. 

The hand that cupped your breast slid down your torso to escape the confines of your shirt, reappearing under your jaw to allow for Sylus to angle your head exactly where he wanted it. Your eyes snapped back open at the feeling, watching mutedly as he pumped his finger deeper into you and roughly ground his palm against your clit. Your breathing hitched around a strangled croak, and a sinful smile split Sylus’ face. 

“Look at how pretty you are, kitten,” he whispered against your ear. It shouldn’t have been anatomically possible, but the flush that decorated your face darkened immeasurably. “Spread wide for me, taking my finger like it’s nothing. Do you want more?” 

You nodded, Sylus’ hand following the movement since his fingers were still gripped snug beneath your jaw. 

“I need you to say it. Use your words, sweetie. I know you can do it.” 

“I… want more,” you said huskily. “I want more, Sylus. P-Please?” 

“Good girl,” he pressed a chaste kiss to your shoulder, red eyes glued to yours all the while. He watched you rapaciously as he eased out his middle finger, then returned with his index finger added alongside. There was mercifully no teasing to be found as Sylus pressed both of the digits into your soaked, eager hole, the stretch taking nothing more than half a second to get used to. The hitched, keening noise that escaped you reverberated off the walls of the bedroom, and your eyelids fluttered as you struggled to keep your eyes open and focused on Sylus. “So tight, kitten… does it feel good?” 

You nodded brainlessly, digging your nails into the skin of Sylus’ forearm as he angled the tips of his fingers up. “Y-Yes, yes,” you whimpered, left with no choice but to watch your reflection in the mirror as Sylus worked to undo you. 

The heady flush that stretched across your skin coupled with your messy, undone hair had you looking positively wrecked already. Wrinkles covered the shirt you still wore, and through the material, you could see your pert nipples jutting against the fabric. Sylus still looked remarkably put together, but there was a telling flush growing across his own cheeks that clued you in on how affected he was beginning to get. That, and you could feel his growing erection pressed up against your backside. 

With what little movement you could muster, you shifted your hips in his lap to press down hard against his cock, and the instant result was by far the most gratifying thing you’d ever seen. Sylus’ head fell against your shoulder, a guttural moan sounding from deep within his chest, and the hand he had wrapped snug around your jaw tightened enough that your next breath was stolen from you. Those plush lips of his parted around a shaky exhale, and the fingers he had stuffed inside of you tensed. When he looked back to meet your awaiting stare in the mirror, you flashed him a coy smirk that ignited a spark of mischievousness in his eyes. 

“You… you’re a daring little minx, you know that?” 

Before you could respond, Sylus recovered in record time and increased the tempo of his fingers, pumping them faster and curling them dexterously within you as though the insistent pressing would reveal something to him. You had no clue what he was aiming for, but the quicker pace had his palm rubbing insanely good against your clit, and a fire seemed to catch in your veins. 

“F-Fuck, Sylus–” your babbling was cut short by the hand around your jaw tightening again, your back molding to Sylus’ chest as he guided your head back to rest against his shoulder. You panted shallowly as he worked his wrist harder, plunging the digits deeper into you, until eventually a sharp pang of arousal shot through you. “Fu– ah!”

Your body tensed against him, and Sylus groaned in abject satisfaction, pressing the side of his cheek against yours as he quickened his pace and aimed for that same spot again and again and again. It was insane– it felt staggeringly intense– enough so that you found it hard to breathe through the waves of ecstasy that crashed over you. The larger man continued to fuck you with his fingers until you began to writhe in his arms, your muscles trembling and your chest heaving with uncontrolled panting. The wet sound of his palm rubbing against your swollen clit filled the air, accompanying the strangled sounds of your labored breathing. 

Sylus panted hot and heavy against your jaw, watching eagerly as your climax reached its boiling point in the pit of your stomach. “You’re close, aren’t you, kitten? I can feel it… do you want to come?” 

Your voice was shrill and desperate as you sobbed, “Yes!” 

“I want you to look,” he implored you, working you so close to the edge that you were prepared to do anything he wanted if it meant he would carry you over the teetering brink. “Look at yourself– watch how perfectly you come on my fingers, kitten. Show me that pretty expression.” 

Words were beyond you at this point– you were a shaky, noisy, needy mess in Sylus’ arms, the metaphorical cord in your gut wrought tighter than a wire. Still, you obeyed his request, lifting your limp neck off his shoulder to gaze into the mirror straight ahead, and it was the sight of Sylus watching you ravenously that finally sent you careening into the abyss. 

You came with a hoarse cry of Sylus’ name, tightening impossibly around his fingers as your hands flew to dig into the sides of his legs beneath you. Your vision flashed white and your ears rang as he continued to fuck you open, thrusting his fingers harder and rubbing that one spot that left you gasping and choking on nonsensical pleas. The wetness that slid down your thighs and dampened Sylus’ lap barely registered to you– not until your body finally went lax against him and you proceeded to shake violently. He stifled a moan of his own as your weight settled directly on his throbbing, neglected cock, but he paid it no mind as he slowed the pace of his fingers and continued to work you through your orgasm until you were nothing but a twitching, whining mess in his arms. 

It took a while for you to approach anything resembling a functional human. Eventually, the feeling of Sylus withdrawing his fingers and peppering soft kisses along your neck roused you from your post-coital state, and you cracked your eyes open to find him staring fondly at you from over your shoulder. 

“Beautiful,” he murmured against your heated skin. “So gorgeous. I love the sounds you make.” 

The amount of sweetness that Sylus exuded was quickly approaching unnatural. Especially because you could feel how hard he was beneath you, and thus far, he had made no move to relieve himself in any way, shape, or form. It couldn’t be comfortable, but his attention had been unwaveringly fixed on you from the moment you’d entered his room. 

“Sylus…” you breathed his name gently, shifting your hips a little so you applied added friction to his cock. He grunted in response, his eyes pinching together slightly as he stared warily at you in the mirror. “What about you?” 

“This isn’t about me, kitten,” he rumbled, sliding his hand away from your jaw and trailing the appendage down to splay atop your thundering heart. “I wanted to do something for you. Trust me, getting to watch you fall apart on my lap was plenty fulfilling.” 

While you didn’t doubt that he’d derived some sort of second hand enjoyment from fingering you, you had reservations about the fulfilling part of his statement. Nothing about his twitching, throbbing cock seemed ”fulfilled” to you, and now that you had gotten a taste of what Sylus had to offer, you found yourself wanting more. 

Much, much more. 

“I…” your voice trailed off as you struggled to find the right words. Sylus watched you intently all the while, his fiery gaze making you shiver. “What if I want it to be about you?” 

His brow rose a fraction of an inch, his shaft throbbing tellingly beneath you. His hands traversed your pliant body reverently, coming to rest on your hips so his fingers could ghost along your jutted hip bones suggestively. “I wouldn’t let it be about me, sweetie. But if it’s what you want, then I’d be thrilled to oblige.” 

Without giving yourself time to question whether it would be overstepping, you mustered up the strength to angle your body sideways so you could face Sylus fully, not in the reflection of the mirror. The smile he gave you once you turned around was lofty and full of male pride, but you really didn’t care how pleased with himself he was. If he wanted to keep things all about you, then you would gladly be selfish. 

When you leaned in to kiss him, it was delicate. Exploratory and testing. You wanted to gauge just how much you could get away with before Sylus drew a line in the sand. If he drew a line in the sand. It was obvious just how much he was affected by you physically, but in the event there was something he didn’t like or wouldn’t be interested in, you wanted to give him the chance to make it clear to you. 

As it turned out, kissing wasn’t something he had an issue with. 

One of his hands rose from your waist to the back of your neck, holding you fast to his incredibly soft mouth as an approving moan sounded from deep in his chest. Your tentative pace was replaced almost instantly with a more urgent one as Sylus leaned into the kiss, parting your lips with his tongue so he could sweep the inside of your mouth with the muscle. The hand on your hip tightened, and the one on your neck curled into a loose fist as he gathered a handful of your hair in his grip. The cautionary kiss you had instigated quickly turned into one of passion driven forward by Sylus, and your heart soared with satisfaction. 

Every minute sound that left you was swallowed up greedily by Sylus. He wasn’t kissing you so much as he was devouring you. The restraint he had practiced earlier had officially manifested into a voracious, insatiable version of the man you knew, and you went weak in the knees when it dawned on you that it was all for you. 

“Tell me to stop now, kitten,” Sylus panted roughly against your lips, having finally withdrawn to catch his breath. Your lust-dark eyes were pinned to him as he let go of your hair to brush a few stray strands out of your face, then cupped the side of your cheek to return your intense gaze. “Because if you don’t, I won’t ask again. I won’t be able to later.” 

Your breasts rose and fell in quick succession as you sucked down greedy breaths. Placing your own hand over his, you bit your lip and shook your head timidly, whispering softly, “I don’t want you to stop.” 

Something halfway between a sigh and a growl came from Sylus then. His eyes darkened as his pupils dilated, their usual crimson hue replaced almost entirely by black. His fingers twitched against your cheek, and your stomach lurched with arousal as he licked his lips eagerly. 

In one swift motion, he rose to his feet with you held fast in his arms, then turned around to roughly deposit you in his original spot on the bed. The speed with which he moved spoke volumes of his excitement, and you matched his pace by immediately reaching for the hem of your shirt. He aided you in hurriedly yanking the material over your head, your breasts bouncing as you threw the attire to the floor and scooted closer to the center of the bed. Sylus watched as you situated yourself against the pillows, his hands moving in quick succession over the buttons holding his own shirt together. The row of clasps parted to reveal creamy, toned muscle underneath, and you found your mouth watering in anticipation as he shed the fabric over his toned shoulders and moved on to his pants. 

As soon as your eyes settled on the outline of his cock in his briefs, you knew you were in for it. He was huge. Even through his undergarments, he looked strikingly thick and equally as long, a pronounced wet spot evident near the head. The crime lord drank in your expression with glazed over eyes, a small smirk tugging at the corners of his lips as he teased the tips of his fingers between the waistband and his hips. 

“Scared, kitten?” 

You didn’t miss a beat, “That’s not normal.” 

Sylus let out a sharp bark of laughter, his eyes glimmering with amusement. “Remind me again what about me strikes you as normal.” When you opened your mouth to respond, then snapped it shut with an audible crack of teeth, he smiled. “We’ll go slow, don’t worry. The last thing I want to do is hurt you.” 

After being so heavily spoiled by him and finding yourself craving more, the absolute last thing you wanted to do was take things slow. You wanted him inside of you now– your still-soaked center throbbing with blatant need. You wanted Sylus to take you by your hips and drive his cock into you fast and hard and leave you a drooling, lust-drunk mess. You wanted more of his praise, more of his attention, more of his scorching touch and intoxicating kisses. 

You wanted it all. But you were willing to be patient if that was what he felt you needed. 

Chewing the inside of your cheek nervously, you nodded up at him. His eyes crinkled at their corners as he started to slide his briefs down his toned legs, revealing inch after inch of his insane member until it was fully freed and arching proudly against his taut stomach. Gravity seemed to be struggling to drag the thick appendage down, and your eyes went wider than saucers as you silently questioned just how the hell he would fit inside of you. 

You would be lying if you said you weren’t eager to find out, though. 

Sylus somehow managed to make tossing underwear over his shoulder look graceful, and you blinked at him in awe as he knelt on the mattress and began crawling towards you. Instinctively, you spread your legs apart to make room, expecting for him to situate himself between your thighs to jump right into what you’d been looking forward to. He took you by surprise, however, when he looped his arms under your knees and yanked you down the pillows closer to him, ignoring your yelp of alarm as he settled onto his stomach and tossed your legs over his shoulders, his face mere inches away from your sopping wet center. 

You started to object, “What are you–” 

“I told you earlier, didn’t I?” He fixed you with a sultry look that had your mouth drying up instantly, and you audibly gulped. “I said I’ve always wondered what your legs would look like hanging over my shoulders. Let a man indulge a little, sweetheart.” 

The tips of his fingers ghosted lightly over the tops of your thighs, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind as he exhaled against your folds. You shivered at the deferential way he seemed to look up at you, his sharp, angular features conveying a degree of tenderness that made your heart lurch. As quick it appeared, though, it vanished– replaced by an unquenchable zeal that had your breath hitching and your muscles tensing. 

Nothing could have prepared you for the animalistic way Sylus sealed his mouth over you, however. There was no warning before he dragged the flat of his tongue up your slit, taking exceptional care to circle your still-sensitive bundle of nerves in spite of your writhing. Your body jerked of its own accord, your stomach flexing as you unconsciously shifted your hips in some vain attempt to escape the onslaught of overstimulating pleasure the man bestowed upon you– all for naught. Sylus tightened his arms around your legs to hold you still, groaning with delight as your spine bowed off the mattress and in turn forced more of you on his tongue. 

“S-Sylus, shit–” you gasped breathlessly, your hands gathering up and yanking at fistfuls of the satin sheets that adorned the bed. Your eyes rolled back into your skull when you felt Sylus probe at your entrance with his tongue, and you mewled pitifully when he plunged the soft, wet muscle into your equally wet center. “God, Sylus–”

You heard and felt him chuckle against you, his otherworldly eyes fluttering open to stare up at you as you crumbled in his arms. His hands curled tighter around your thighs, holding you in place with a sort of casual ease that spoke volumes of his innate strength, and he waited for you to meet his gaze before he brazenly tilted his head forward to rub his nose against your clit. 

The shrill cry that tore from you echoed off the walls, and your hands flew to his hair before you could stop yourself. If the feeling of your nails scraping against his scalp was unpleasant, he didn’t show it. Instead, Sylus continued his never-ending assault against your soaked core with unabashed vigor, his sporadic groans accompanying the wet, sordid sounds he made with his mouth. 

There was no way you were going to survive. It was too much. Your nerve endings were scorched beyond capacity, and the blazing inferno that burned in your gut threatened to melt you from the inside out. First his hands, and now his mouth? Was there any part of him that didn’t possess such… talent? 

The irrelevant thought was banished from your mind as Sylus decided to focus his efforts on your clit once again, sucking the swollen nub into his mouth and laving his tongue over it incessantly. 

He was trying to kill you. 

Digging your heels into his back, you tugged at his hair harder and lolled your head from side to side, struggling to form a coherent sentence to warn him that you were close. Sylus angled his head so that he could watch you come undone beneath him, his eyes taking on a heady, bewitching quality that had you thinking he could see into the depths of your very soul. Almost hesitantly, he pulled away from your brutalized center, reaching over your thigh so he could replace his mouth with his thumb as he said, “One more time, kitten. Let me see you come again. You’re being so good– just one more time for me.” 

Fuck.

It wasn’t like you could say no, much less stop yourself from careening over the edge for the second time. Especially not when Sylus’ mouth dove back on your clit, licking maddeningly over the nub as though he were a starved animal. You spasmed against the sheets, a raspy cry ripping from your throat as you climaxed again, blind and mute to the world as your legs clamped down on either side of Sylus’ head. The crime lord didn’t seem to care in the slightest. In fact, he seemed to enjoy the feeling immensely, a gruff moan resonating from his chest and reverberating against your puffy, overstimulated center. 

When your body finally sagged into the mattress, Sylus was still lapping up the evidence of your arousal with persevering gusto. You were beyond words at this point, your tongue serving as nothing more than a lead weight in your mouth, so all you were able to do was shove weakly at his head in your attempts to get him to stop. 

Thankfully the man still retained a sense of mercy, because he pulled away swiftly and immediately began stroking your legs comfortingly, his red eyes boring into yours as he licked the remnants of your pleasure from his lips. You were certain you had never seen such a depraved sight in your life, and a feeble whimper slithered its way from your sore throat. 

“I knew it,” Sylus mused thoughtfully, breaking the thick silence that permeated the air. Still struggling to work your vocal chords, you furrowed your brows at him questioningly. “You taste sweet. I had a hunch, and you proved me right.” 

If anymore blood pooled in your cheeks, you were sure your head would explode. 

“And your legs are just as perfect as I thought they’d be,” he gently slid your boneless limbs off of his shoulders, sitting up just enough to give himself the range he needed to move over you fully. Crimson eyes scanned you hungrily as he asked, “Think you can wrap them around my waist, or are you too far gone?” 

In the throes of ecstasy, you had forgotten that Sylus wasn’t tormenting you with his mouth for nothing. He was preparing you. The thought of experiencing more didn’t scare you as much as it excited you, and you wordlessly lifted your knees off the bed in response, doing your best to keep them steady as they trembled against your will. 

The way you obediently waited for Sylus seemed to be his breaking point, because all of his prior restraint vanished in an instant as he gripped your knees and held them steady, helping you so that you could hook your quivering ankles around his waist. Once he let go, he moved to capture one of your hands in his, taking care to place a chaste, tender kiss to your knuckles before intertwining his fingers with yours and pinning the limb to the bed above your head. You panted and wiggled closer to him, shivering when you felt the thick head of his cock fall heavy against the sparse collection of hair below your navel, and then you watched through your lashes as Sylus lined himself up with your wet, waiting heat. 

He stopped himself a moment before he pressed in, leaning down to kiss you softly– delicately– then rested his forehead against yours to stare unblinkingly into your eyes. “Last chance, kitten. You’re sure about this?” 

Despite your spent state beneath him, you huffed out a laugh and smiled warmly. “I thought you said you weren’t going to ask again.” 

He gave you a lopsided shrug, then smirked and squeezed your hand tighter in his larger one. “I guess I’m just full of surprises.” 

Without thinking, you closed the miniscule distance between the two of you and kissed him again, your unrestrained hand curling around the back of his neck to hold his mouth securely to yours. Sylus returned the action with equal fervor, inhaling sharply when he felt your hips wiggle tellingly against his throbbing manhood. Breaking away just enough to murmur breathlessly against his lips, you said, “I’m sure.”

With a quick, parting peck to your kiss-swollen mouth, Sylus kept his eyes glued to yours as he slowly began to press home. The initial breach was jarring, even with how wet and pliant you were in the wake of his preparation. The tip of his cock entered you incredibly slowly, your nails digging into the back of his neck as you willed your body to breathe through the momentary discomfort. Sylus halted his hips there to give you time to adjust, pressing his lips to yours again and tilting his head to the side to deepen the kiss, tangling his tongue with yours and letting loose a contented groan. The kiss felt electric; so perfect, so slow, and so messy that you couldn’t help but welcome the wave of affection that washed over you for the Onychinus leader. 

There was no way you could be content with this remaining a one-time tryst. Not with the powerful emotions that swept through you in response to Sylus’ words and actions. He had effortlessly wormed his way so deep into your heart that you doubted you would ever be able to rid yourself of your sentiments. Even before now, he had gone out of his way to cater to your every desire, helping you with anything you asked and looking out for you when you didn’t. Today had only solidified the feelings you had felt for a long, long time, and you didn’t want to give that up. You wouldn’t give that up. 

“Sylus,” you breathed in-between kisses. “Sylus, I like you. I like you a lot.” 

He chuckled against your mouth and drew back slightly, just enough to get a good look at your flushed, timid expression. “I like you a lot too, kitten. I always have and I always will.” 

The way he said the declaration hit you with the force of a train. It was as though a lifetime of devotion had been unearthed with those few words, and a deep, profound attachment settled hot and heavy in your chest. You loved this man. You loved Sylus, and part of you felt like you had loved him for lifetimes. 

Words weren’t enough to convey what you wanted to say, so you settled for sliding your hand away from his neck to splay your fingers over his sternum, his heartbeat thundering wildly beneath your palm. A shiver worked its way over him, his free hand coming to cover yours as his muscles rippled with restraint, and then he exhaled loudly. That was the only cue you needed to spur him onwards, encouraging him to pick up where he had left off. 

You nudged his lower back with your heels, then groaned softly when he started to press more of himself into you. This time there was no discomfort. Only a slick, easy slide that left the two of you gasping one another’s names into the humid air. Once he was fully sheathed within your heated, pulsing walls, you found yourself nearly breathless. His cock twitched eagerly inside of you as he gave you yet another moment to gather your bearings, somehow managing to keep his composure, which was more than could be said for you. 

Your mind was fucking blown. Sex was one thing, but this was sex with Sylus. The same ruthless, calculating crime lord that turned his enemies into mist and brought his rivals to their knees with a thought. The same man who commanded attention and respect just by walking into a room. The same man who withstood bullet wounds and Wanderer attacks like they were nothing more than irritating bug bites. That was the same man holding your hands now, being so strikingly gentle and waiting so incredibly patiently for you to adjust to the perfect, thick cock that filled you up so deep and so good. 

When you finally relaxed and stopped clenching your thighs around Sylus’ waist, he removed your hand from his chest and intertwined your fingers with his, then pinned the appendage above your head to mirror your other arm. Being so close to your face again allowed for him to begin trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck, pausing at the junction of your shoulder to suck lightly at the salty skin there. “Tell me when, kitten,” he muttered roughly, his own need evident in the gravelly tone of his voice. “You’re running the show here.” 

You angled your head to the side to give Sylus better access to your throat, and he nipped playfully at your collarbone before drawing back enough to glance at you. You had to look a special brand of fucked up, because Sylus let loose a groan laced with blatant yearning, and his hips twitched forward slightly. 

As if the sheer width and length of his cock wasn’t enough, you could feel every mouthwatering vein that pulsed along his shaft. The subtle drag through your innermost walls had you arching suddenly– that one spot he had previously assaulted with his fingers now being wholly enveloped by his length. “Yes,” you gasped, digging your nails into the backs of his hands. “M-Move. Feels insane…”

Sylus chuckled under his breath, withdrawing his hips cautiously before pushing back in faster. It was still a tentative pace, but unmistakably swifter than before. The feeling of his cock sliding past that magic place inside of you had you gasping around a keening moan, and your head flew back in response to the sensations that washed over you. 

Bliss, euphoria, ecstasy. Whatever it was, it was addictive, and you wanted more. 

Sylus didn’t need to ask. Your body language was enough for him to go off as he worked to set a steady rhythm, pumping his hips languidly as his hands tightened almost painfully around yours. Your breathing quickly became labored as the head of his cock reached deep inside of you, seemingly punching the air from your lungs every time he bottomed out. Needy, desperate noises fell from your lips, and when your eyes snapped back to ruby red ones, you found Sylus watching you with rapt focus, unwilling to look away for fear of missing the way your lips parted with each, assessing thrust. 

When your heels dug into the small of his back again, he exhaled roughly and dropped his head closer to yours. “Think you can take more, sweetie?” 

You nodded brainlessly, so drunk on the feelings he was giving you that you would have agreed to anything. The fact that you did actually want more just so happened to be a happy coincidence. 

Sylus grunted and wedged his knees further beneath you, giving him the support and leverage he needed to draw his hips back again before spearing his cock into you harder, the force from the action causing you to cry out with unrestrained rapture. It hit so deep, the slight angle change allowing for him to reach so unbelievably far inside of you that it felt like he was stirring up your very insides. 

From that point on, things shifted from testing and exploratory to frantic and ravenous. Having been given the green light, Sylus pumped his hips into you with unleashed vigor, the lewd sound of skin slapping against skin reaching your ears as your mouth fell open. You were moaning, wheezing, gasping, and crying Sylus’ name over and over again, your mind going blank in lieu of his cock effectively muddling your brain’s ability to think. All you could do was take it with your legs hooked around him and your hands pinned by your head, entirely at his mercy as he worked the tip of his shaft past that pleasure inducing spot within you. 

The sound of Sylus groaning your name pulled you back down to the present, and your eyes cracked open to find silver strands of hair falling into his face as his head hung heavy between his shoulders. “You feel incredible, sweetie. So good, so wet. You’re a work of fucking art.” 

“S-Sylus,” your hands flexed in his hold weakly, your legs quaking from the effort it took to keep them wrapped around his narrow waist. Between the unrelenting slam of his hips against your ass and the mounting pressure building in the pit of your stomach, your body felt like it was being pulled in a million different directions. You were fairly certain drool spilled from the corners of your mouth as you senselessly babbled, “Sy– fuck– c-can’t, I can’t–”

Sylus picked up on your struggle and quickly readjusted your positions; he released your hands to coax your legs off of his hips, guiding the boneless limbs down to the mattress before coiling his fingers under your knees. You were utterly indisposed as he hoisted one leg up and draped it over his shoulder yet again, then pushed the other one far to the side to spread you wide open while simultaneously giving you the reprieve you had desperately needed. 

The newfound angle, in turn, served to drive you higher than you had thought possible. 

When Sylus reared his hips back to continue hammering his cock into you, you found that his thrusts had transformed from deep to cervix-kissing. Your spine arched clean off the bed as you threw your head back and wailed Sylus’ name, your hands clawing at the sheets so violently that your nails caught on some of the threads and tore them apart. Sylus was growling above you, his rough, panted breaths punctuated by his equally rough thrusts, and his eyes squeezed shut as he pressed his lips to the inside of your knee over his shoulder, biting and sucking at your skin hard enough that you knew it would bruise. 

His control was slipping, though. Through the overwhelming ecstasy that threatened to boil over within your core, you could feel as Sylus’ pace began to falter. The snapping of his hips became more erratic, his teeth clamped down harder on your leg, and the fingers he had dug into your thigh spasmed as he fought his release with everything in him. If you could get your tongue to function, you would ask him what the hell he was waiting for. 

But then he cracked those luminescent eyes of his open again, letting go of the leg you had stretched out on the bed so he could reach between your thighs. 

“Come on,” Sylus implored you, his fingers rubbing relentless little circles against your swollen clit. “Come on, kitten. One more time for me. Let me feel you come on my cock– come for me.” 

You couldn’t take it anymore. 

The shaky groans that rumbled through you quickly turned into shrill cries of Sylus’ name as you came, your hands tearing vehemently at the satin sheets as your walls clamped down on his cock. Through the ear splitting ringing that echoed around your skull, you managed to make out the sound of Sylus groaning your name loudly, the feeling of his fingers digging into your thigh registering alongside the wavering pumping of his hips. His quick, pounding pace quickly deteriorated into something sloppier, more irregular, until he buried himself deep inside of you for the last time, then proceeded to shake. 

For what seemed like an eternity, the two of you lay there gasping for breath. Sylus’ grip on your leg was still ironclad, and every muscle in your body continued to quiver sharply. The clouds in your mind refused to let you focus again, still blown away at the intensity of everything you had experienced in just one day. Sylus’ cock pulsed as the last of his spend emptied into you, and you were still so unbelievably sensitive that every tiny twitch of his shaft had you jolting and shivering against him. 

Before long, Sylus gingerly slid your quivering leg off of his shoulder, taking exceptional care to set the limb down gently before he began the god-awful process of pulling out. Without him filling you up, you felt incredibly empty, and your lower half spasmed unconsciously when he finally left the warm, wet confines of your folds. 

“Fuck,” Sylus finally managed to speak, trailing his hand up your calf to tenderly ghost over the bright, purple-red blotch that he’d left on your leg. “Are you alright, sweetheart?” 

“Mmhng,” came your garbled response. The speech part of your brain was still struggling to turn back on. 

“Oh no,” Sylus drawled sarcastically, crawling closer so he could loop his arm under your back and haul you towards the headboard alongside him. “Don’t tell me I broke you, Miss Hunter. The Association will double my bounty if they find out.” 

You let Sylus manhandle you against his chest as he leaned back against the mountain of pillows, sighing softly when you felt his hand brush against your flushed cheeks. Glancing up at him through your lashes, you muttered, “I’ll make them triple it as punishment for the sarcasm.”

That earned you a chuckle from the crime lord, and he gazed down at you thoughtfully while he continued to smooth your hair out of your face. The fondness with which he stared at you was enough to bring a shy smile to your face, and you numbly wrapped your fingers around his wrist as you relished in the attention. “Ah, the tired kitten returns with her fangs bared. Triple the original price of my bounty is flattering, I’ll give you that much.” 

You hummed your agreement, doing your best to fight off the bone-deep fatigue that seemed to be sneaking up on you. Your whole body exuded an ache that felt strangely… nice. Compared to how sore you tended to get when you trained throughout the night, this was pleasant by comparison. The thought of training, however, had you thinking back to your earlier discussion with Sylus, and you pursed your lips as you contemplated whether or not to voice the burning question that reiterated itself over and over in your brain. 

“What are you thinking about that’s making you look so glum?” Sylus dexterously twirled his wrist out of your grip so he could intertwine your fingers with his again, and he pressed a warm, lingering kiss to your knuckles that made your heart swell with even more affection. “Do I need to put you in front of the mirror again?” 

“What you said earlier,” you muttered against his chest timidly. “Did you mean all of that?” 

“I would ask you which part you’re referring to, but that would be pointless since I meant everything I said tonight, kitten.” He moved your joined hands so they were held fast to his chest, directly over his heart. “I’ve always believed that it’s best to say what you mean and mean what you say. Lip service is pointless. And with you? I would never lie.” 

“So all that talk about me being a great fighter, being smart, cunning… you were telling the truth?” 

“Of course I was. Don’t forget the part about your legs,” he helpfully supplied, his red eyes narrowing with interest as they flicked down to the limbs in question. “Because they truly are incredibly perfect, sweetie.” 

You huffed out a dry laugh, lifting your conjoined hands to lightly thump against his sternum playfully. “You’re incorrigible.” 

In a flash, Sylus shifted so he was laying flat on his side with you wrapped snugly in his arms, the sudden change enough to pull a startled yelp from you. The familiar, red mist that accompanied his Evol manifested and enveloped the bed, pulling the covers over the two of you and cocooning you both in a silky haven that instantly amplified the fatigue you felt. You looked back at him from over your shoulder in time to watch as he nestled his chin into the crook of your neck, a radiant smile playing on his perfect face before he pressed a soft, sweet kiss against your lips. 

“And you’re exquisite,” he countered easily, tugging you closer against him so your back was flush to his chest. Once he had you situated how he wanted, he used his Evol to plunge the room into near darkness, the only source of light coming from the dim lanterns that flickered on his desk. “Get some sleep, kitten. Tomorrow we’ll head back out and deal with those Wanderers together. I’m eager to see you in action again.” 

As you nestled deeper into the cool pillows, you found your mind blissfully quiet and at ease. No rampant feelings of self-doubt plagued you, and the warmth from Sylus pressed up against you soothed your body and worked to lull you into a peaceful slumber. For the first time in a long time, ‘together’ actually sounded like something you could get used to. 

Especially if together meant you and Sylus.

[etclouie]

day one — captain’s girl

ᯓ ꨄ︎ — summary; hearing your boyfriends name always seems to catch your attention (James Potter x fem!reader)

ᯓ ꨄ︎ — warnings; established relationship, james kinda being a tease??, possible ooc james, uhm that’s it tho i’m pretty sure

ᯓ ꨄ︎ — word count; 1,044

ᯓ ꨄ︎ — a/n; event was a very last minute decision so trust it’s not perfect

prev day | next day louie’s 14 days of love | main masterlist

being James’ girlfriend always meant hearing his name when you walked the castle’s corridors, but what you didn’t account for was it to garner your attention every time. 

whenever someone said his name, your head tilted towards them in hopes that he was with them. 

which left you with a twinge of disappointment every time, longing to see that boisterous grin you fell in love with. 

today was no different, you were sat in the great hall finishing off some homework. scribbling idly at the parchment in front of you when another group of people walked through the doors into the hall, chanting James’ name.

this time though, he was there. in the middle of the sea of people, which had a smile tugging at your lips. 

his eyes met yours while he pushed past everybody in his way, barely showing them a second glance as he made his way towards you. 

your smile grew as he came closer until he was sitting next to you, lips soft as they pressed a kiss to yours, whispering out to him. 

“hi Jamie”

the nickname made him smile, leaning in to kiss you again before the sound of Sirius and Remus talking grew closer as they followed after James. 

ignoring the pair as you dotted at your boyfriend, right hand lifting to brush his disheveled hair out of his face before he pressed a kiss to your wrist. giggling as he pressed another kiss to your wrist, and then another before he whispered out to you. 

“hi love”

there was something about his voice that made your head spin and your heart swoon, it was always warm and comforting. 

his presence a pleasant surprise compared to the usual disappointment that came from hearing his name without him being around, eyes unable to pull away from his face. 

“missed you”

he quirked a brow at your words, a small teasing jest that made you roll your eyes at him. though he knew there was no malice to it, his face painted itself a look of mock offence. 

“hey hey, i missed you too—which is why i’m here”

he told, reaching for your bag that you’d stuffed under the table so he could put away your things, ignoring your protests and complaints about having to finish your homework. 

instead of listening, he leaned in to kiss you again. softer than before as you melted into him, your fingers pushing up into his hair to pull him closer. 

you could hear Sirius chuckle behind you both, which made you part from James. giggling again as he tilted his head to throw Sirius a glare, his hands lifting in surrender before he turned back to Remus. 

“i know we haven’t seen much of each other lately so i’m taking you out tonight”

James had stood from the bench next to you, your bag slung over his shoulder as he held out both of his hands to you. 

confusion drawn across your face as you slowly followed him off of the bench, hands taking his as you mumbled out to him. 

“but James i’ve got homework and you’ve got practice”

he shushed you with another kiss, his left hand lifting to cradle your face as he pulled back. resting his forehead against yours as he whispered back. 

“just came from practice, so i’m yours all night”

he wiggled his eyebrows teasingly which had you rolling your eyes at him again, curling into him as his left arm wrapped around your shoulders. 

your head laying on his chest while he looked down at you, walking you both out of the great hall and towards his dorm so he could change. 

“but your stuff—“

you started, but he shushed you with another kiss. deeper this time, and his teeth nipping at your bottom lip in an attempt to deepen the kiss even more. 

pulling back before he could deepen it even more, he whispered against your lips. 

“already at my dorm, wanted to personally escort you love”

you couldn’t help but sigh, you knew you needed to finish your homework but he was so easy to give in to. 

leaning in you stole another kiss, grumbling against his lips. 

“ever the gentleman”

he chuckled at that, shaking his head as he continued to walk you towards his dorm. his left arm still around your shoulders as he pulled you in closer against his chest, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. 

once in his dorm, you sat at the foot of his bed. watching him move around the room, pulling out clean clothes and move back to you. 

his arms on the bed on either side of you as he stole another kiss, whispering against your lips. 

"been meaning to ask you something, love. Sirius mentioned it the other day, but when you hear my name, do you start looking around for me? or do I just have that effect on you?"

you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at the teasing lilt of his voice, playfully slapping at his shoulder before he chuckled. a knowing look gracing his face as he slowly tugged off his shirt, tossing it aside and meeting your eyes again. 

his smirk widening as your eyes raked down his body, looking away reluctantly as he played into your stares, flexing his arm and the muscles tensing at his movements. 

“you’re unbelievable”

you grumbled, unable to keep your eyes off of him. letting your eyes flick across his body again as he continued to smirk down at you, a small hint of smugness filling him. 

he moved into your space again, causing you to lay flat against his mattress as his body blanketed yours. 

his lips pressing to yours to steal yet another kiss, the longing you both shared coming to a head as you chased after him as he pulled back—getting you right where he wanted you, easily giving in despite your efforts. 

“fine, yes i look for you when i hear your name—now go shower” 

he lifted from you with ease, smirk still across his face as he grabbed a towel and his clean clothes. tossing them over his shoulder as he called out to you over his shoulder. 

“that’s my girl”

reblogs are highly appreciated !

[myfavoritesstuff]

Visual Novels & Webtoons

Note: Please do not read if you are not okay with yandere tendencies or violence!

Discord!!!! Please join if you like reading and/or writing or just want to talk (text). It will be my way of talking or obsessing over these characters.

Note: The Discord Link is now updated! Feel free to join!

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Dreaming Freedom

Nothing yet

The Kid at the Back

Through the Illustrated Veil

The Coffin of Andy and Leyley

“Your Andy”

Possession from Within

“Yes, We Really Do” (smut)

Through the Illustrated Veil

14 Days with you

Through the Illustrated Veil

Mushroom Oasis

Nothing yet

A Date with Death

Nothing yet

Favor

Embrace of Shadows (smut)

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

[cyb3r-kn1fe]

Yanderes realizing their MC is just as fucking insane as they are: Part 1 - Ren Edition

With the amount of cameras bitch boy has around your apartment, I think he'd notice your fun little tendencies a little quicker than the others. At first, it was little things: getting snippy with the barista after she had her grubby little fingers far too close to Ren for your liking, or the way you'd glower over your laptop for hours on end after the date. Ren had access to everything in your apartment, of course, so maybe he knew your course of action before you did. And therefore, wasn't all that surprised when the girl's face popped up on the news later that week, suspected missing. In fact, he was ecstatic. His Angel was just as bat shit crazy for him as he was about them. God, could you get any cuter?!

He may have egged on the next one, he could admit that, but he really wanted to see how far you'd go, maybe even see it with his own eyes. So, maybeeeeee, he let the girl at the park fawn over his hair a bit too long. He hated every second of it, but could you blame him?! That murderous look in your eye was to die for! You almost sent him to his knees then and there, ready to propose again. He followed this time. You looked adorable in your little get up, all dressed in black and gorgeously prepared to end the night in blood. He would've interrupted your beautiful work if he hadn't see the look of pure joy on your face. Dammit, he wanted to kiss you!! It's not fair! He decided to wait a bit, surprise you. He waited until you got rid of the body (and you were so pretty when you did, knowing exactly what you were doing), waited for you to bundle up your tools and clothes, waited for you to stalk back home like a little mouse, waited for you to realize he wasn’t in bed.

And then he showed you just how much he loved you.

[ekuudarlin]

𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐬 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞, 𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐭¡𝐜𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫. 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐧𝐞, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫.

𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐬𝐞.

1. 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐲/𝐧 𝐬𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬: “𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐬𝐨 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐞. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞. 𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐥𝐥, 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮.”

2. 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐲/𝐧 𝐬𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬: 𝐘/𝐍 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐁 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲 𝐚 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐇𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧. 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐁: 𝐁𝐨𝐛𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐬? 𝐘/𝐍: 𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐛𝐨𝐛𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐤? ;)

3. 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨: 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲/𝐧 𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬

4. 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧: 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐚 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐘/𝐍 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨𝐩 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬... 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐞���𝐲 𝐧𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐝.

5. 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧: 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐚 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐲/𝐧 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐬. 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐚 𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐨 𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐚𝐧’𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲’𝐫𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠/𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲/𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐝𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐚𝐥𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲.

[thragedys]

Clear Mind

Ren x Fem Reader

REBOOTING...

Synopsis: With many dreadful thoughts lingering on your conscience, you have been experiencing trouble regarding trust in the people close to you. With the news rambling on about murders and the everlasting feeling of eyes glaring at you, you’re close to breaking. You can’t shake that forever-present paranoia alone.

Word count: 2.3k

Includes: Ren x Fem Reader, comfort, Ren being sweet, establishing a relationship, smut, oral, cunnilingus, kissing, clothed orgasm

A/N: Ren is too cute! I had to write something about him.

It was strange—his behaviour. You’ve never seen anything quite like it, the constant jitters in his facade. Your emotions are constantly changing. At this point, you are uncertain how you feel towards Ren. Part of you pities him and wants to remain his friend, but the other wants to get as far away as possible. Miles, perhaps a new city. However far your legs can take you.

He hasn’t done anything to harm you. He would never. His protectiveness, however, disturbs you deeply. How he told your friends he was your boyfriend without the slightest hint of hesitation, the way he’s so effortlessly affectionate and intimate. If you’re able to clear the air with him this evening, there will be no more worries remaining. Other than the uneasy sensation of a set of prying eyes burning through you every passing moment. 

You blame your neighbour, Violet, for that unnerving sense of paranoia. She just had to mention she witnessed someone exiting your apartment. Someone you weren’t aware was in there in the first place.

Knock, knock, knock.

Three gentle taps against your door. It’s Ren. Your heart sinks to your stomach as you stand to your feet, legs wobbling as you make your way to answer. Pulling down the handle, you take a deep breath and gaze up at the lanky figure before you.

“Hi! Is everything okay? You look… Ill?” Ren pats his hand against the side of your face and you huff, feeling guilty for ever suspecting anything of him. Awkward people tend to shift their behaviour when around new individuals to avoid getting embarrassed, that’s likely his reasoning.

“I just need to talk to someone. I’ve been having trouble sleeping recently.”

“Told you that you could stay at my place whenever you wanted, didn’t I?” His smile was soft, raising the bag of goodies he brought with him. “Can I come in? It’s food and a few other things.”

…

“Wow, you don’t look well at all… Are you sure you’re okay?” His concern grows as you snap out of your trance, opening the door further for him to enter.

“I’m scared, Ren.”

“Of what? You can tell me anything— everything for that matter.”

“I swear I saw someone outside of my window a few days ago. I don’t know what they were doing, but I saw them. Hardly anyone is ever out there.”

“Hmm? Were they looking your way?”

“…I don’t think so. I can’t remember.”

“Okay, that’s fine! Don’t stress over it. We can talk about this after we eat. You need to get some food in you.”

Pulling out the boxed portions of food, he slides yours over and begins digging into his own, keeping a keen eye on you while you nibble at your meal. Even though you can’t shake the impending dread, you regain your appetite after seeing he purchased your favourite for you.

Now you feel a little bit better. You push any food waste aside and notice how he immediately goes to dispose of it, taking care of your duties inside of your own home without you having to ask. Ren was a sweetheart.

“How do you want to do this? Lying down, sitting, standing?” He taps his fingers against the tabletop, his eyes filled with worry as you space out yet again.

“Do what?”

“Talk. I wanna hear everything you have to say so you can get it off of your mind.”

“Oh, the sofa will do. Thank you for coming over.”

“No need to thank me! I’m happy to be here, so happy to be with you. I missed you so much.”

Not quite catching the last part of his sentence, you sink onto the sofa and rest your head against his arm. You pour your heart out to him, unsure if you’re overstepping by not holding back — but he did tell you he’s here to listen. And he did. 

When you finished listing off your worries, he hummed and squeezed you tighter, now realising that during your full confession, you somehow ended up in his embrace. His nose is pressed into your hair, one hand stroking up and down your back, hushing you as a few tears slip from your eyes.

“Don’t cry, Angel… You’re safe, I promise.” Judging from the tone of his voice, you can tell he is hurt by how upset you’ve been. “I’m here for you. Do you want to stay at my place tonight? Clear your head, get away from all those thoughts.”

“I can’t hide from my fears forever, Ren.”

“Then you’ll have to let me fight them off. I’ll beat up the bad guys for you and the bad thoughts.” He raises his fists playfully, locking eyes with you as you lift your head.

“Are you sure you could handle them?”

“Easily! Oh, I forgot to ask…” Ren murmurs, twiddling with the fabric of your shirt. “I am allowed to stay over, aren’t I? I brought my essentials, so…”

“Of course. I’m going to use the bathroom; you can go get yourself comfy.”

“You’re the best! I’ll be waiting for you.” He springs to his feet and wanders off into your bedroom, leaving you to tend to your nighttime routine.

Applying the final step of your skincare, you pat your face and yawn. It has gotten quite late, you’re starting to wonder whether Ren fell asleep without you. Entering the bedroom, you spot him sitting on the edge of the bed, as though he was seriously waiting on your command so he could lie down. His eyes sparkle when they land on your figure, and his arms open.

“Snuggle?” He flutters his eyelashes, his blue eyes boring through yours as you sit on his lap.

“Sure.”

“I checked outside of your window. I looked everywhere I could and saw nothing suspicious. I might have scared them off.”

“Maybe you did.”

“Do I get a reward?”

“Do you deserve one?”

“But… I protected you! I made sure any scary people left you alone. They won’t dare try anything while I’m here.”

“I was teasing you, Ren.”

“Oh…”

“You’re such a good boy. You do everything you can to help me.”

“Don’t say things like that…!” His face lights up a bright shade of red, eyes snapping to the side to avoid your gaze.

“Why are you so cute?” 

“Dunno… Why are you so beautiful? You are an angel. My angel.” Ren trails off, propping himself above you while your body is crushed to the mattress. “Mine.”

Your face is held in his palms, his eyes laced with nothing but adoration as they analyse you. He was tracing every detail of your face, trailing down your body, and stopping in their tracks when he felt a tug on the sleeve of his turtleneck. As he redirects his gaze back up to your face, he notices how your hand sneakily wrapped itself in his hair and edged him closer towards you.

He can never get used to this. The way you kiss him first destroys him. If he wasn’t desperate enough before, he is now. After recollecting his thoughts, he nips at your bottom lip and grants himself more access to your mouth, taking control from here. His pretty girl shouldn’t have to put all the work in.

“Can I…?” Ren mumbles into your mouth before pulling away, the string of saliva keeping you both connected. He twangs the waistband of your shorts, his index finger tracing swirls on your exposed stomach.

“Yeah…”

“I’ll be gentle. I know you haven’t been feeling your best, so let me do everything today. I just wanna take your mind off of things. I want you to be happy again.”

“I am happy when I’m with you. You make me feel safe.”

“…?” Ren halts, his hair brushing against your leg as he stares up at you from between your thighs.

“You mean a lot to me, Ren. More than you think. You drop everything for me when I need you most—no one has ever valued me that much before.”

“It will always be you above anything else. Nothing will ever be more important than you.” He slides down your panties, revealing the mess before him. 

“I love you.” Ren uttered, planting kisses down your inner thigh.

It went unheard, exactly as he was hoping it would. His words were mumbled as he delved in between your folds, his tongue exploring you frantically as if it were his first time. Your cunt was familiar with him now. His tongue traced the shape of a heart on your clit, then repeated similar motions until he watched your eyes flicker shut.

“Keep them open, please…” Ren laces his hand with yours, giving it a firm squeeze.

He wants you to watch everything he does, wants you to remember who made you feel so good.

Your hips buck forward, accidentally pressing yourself even closer to him. His hands wrapped around your thighs, holding you firmly in place while he savored your taste. No other reward could compare to this. The thought that you were this wet because of him riles him up. He made you this way, no one else. 

Slipping two fingers into your entrance, he remains gentle like he had promised. He was relishing in your reactions, slowly bringing you closer to an orgasm, then taking it away by altering his rhythm. It’s not that he doesn’t want you to cum for him—it’s that he doesn’t want this to end. For the past few days he hasn’t seen you face to face; he had craved this exact encounter.

Your walls tighten around him, an indicator that you won’t be able to hold on much longer, but he doesn’t slow down. He’s lost in your taste, entranced by the way you push yourself against him, allowing him to ravish you as if you were his last meal. The longer he goes, the sloppier he gets. Due to the grip you have on his hair, it became quite messy—the strays flying freely.

“I’m so close, Ren…” You whine, letting his name roll off of your tongue a few more times. Your eyes have grown hazy, unable to take them off him.

“Then cum for me. It’s my reward after all…”

Hearing his words pushed you, causing the cord building intricately inside of you to snap. You muffled your moan, forgetting the time and the likelihood of your neighbours attempting to get rest. The last thing you need is a visit from security due to a noise complaint. Ren pulls back, sliding his fingers from your cunt and wiping any fluid that smeared on his face away.

There was something odd about him. Whether it be the dark lighting or that look in his eyes—there was a different energy surrounding him. He likes the fingers that have been inside of you, sending a shudder down his spine. 

“What…? Do you want a taste too? I don’t mind sharing if it’s with you.” Ren pouts, extending his fingers to brush across your lips, smearing your slick across them.

“You’re looking at me all funny. Is there something wrong?” Ren’s once smug demeanour disappears, his hand patting his face while you shake your head.

“You’re so handsome. I’m so lucky.”

“…!” Ren leans forward, his breath hitching as if he were in disbelief.

“I was jealous when that girl was all over you in that store. Really jealous. I don’t know what we are or if we even are an official thing, but I know I would love to be your real girlfriend.”

“Angel…” Ren murmurs, utter disbelief upon him as he tries to get his words out. “You’re going to make me cry— in a good way… A really good way! I never knew—”

“Can you stay over more often?” Your eyes water, locking with Ren’s teary pair.

“I’ll stay over whenever you want, all you have to do is ask. I can’t believe this is actually… Do you know— Ugh. I can’t get my words out, why now?” Ren mopes due to his poor communication, but your chuckle grants him enough reassurance to continue trying.

“I was hoping you felt the same way I did, but I didn’t want to force anything on you. I’m sorry things have been so confusing between us. If I would’ve known, I would’ve made it all so much clearer.”

“Does this mean we’re officially dating?”

“I suppose… but, if you want the truth, we already were a long time ago in my mind. My eyes have only been on you. They always will be. They always have been…”

“Hm?” You rub your thumb over his knuckles, curious to hear what he said.

“Nothing, I’m just rambling on, typical me…” Ren beams, nestling his head down onto your chest. “It feels nice to know you’re only mine now.”

“Did you think I wanted anyone else?”

“No… but! That doesn’t stop people from wanting you. They can’t have you, so I win.”

“You seem very proud of yourself.”

“I am. I’m an even prouder boyfriend knowing you’re the one I have.”

“I’ll pay you back tomorrow.”

“Huh?” Ren lifts his head, his brows furrowed.

“I didn’t have the chance to give you any pleasure.”

“I had lots, don’t worry. Seeing you like that was enough for me.”

“Did you…?” You raise an eyebrow, squinting your eyes as your inquisitive nature piques.

“…” Ren’s cheeks light up, already aware of what you are insinuating. “Well— Yes! How couldn’t I? You’re just soo pretty, and you were moaning my name in that whiny voice, and—”

“It’s okay; you don’t need to explain. Do you want to clean yourself up?”

“M’ too sleepy. I’ll take a shower in the morning and sort everything out then.”

“I’ll make sure to wake you up nice and early with me in that case.”

Accepting defeat at the early rise, Ren groans and nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck. His body is sprawled out on top of yours, his limbs snuggling you tightly. There is no chance of you escaping him in the night with his sheer strength, you would need to be plied off of him to be free again. Before you know it, your eyes unwillingly close and your heart sinks with his, blissfully falling into a slumber together.

[soluversworld]

ACCEPT HIM?- REN/REDACTED X G.READER

14 days with you! is a 18+ visual novel Minors don’t interact!

Words: 9548

Genre: G.N Reader (Angst!)

Summary: 

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[REDACTED]...?

This one-shot is inspired from Chae Yul, Sian, The secret alliance stuff! Please check it out! This is a gift for his birthday!

Trigger Warnings:

Obsession & Stalking

Identity & Self-Hatred

Psychological Horror & Manipulation

Physical Restraint

Mental Breakdown & Trauma

Loss of Agency & Power Imbalance

Dark/Surreal Imagery

You spat.

The rats. The wretched, sacred rats. God’s vermin. Love incarnate. They fester in the walls, whisper in the dark. Their teeth are scripture, their hunger divine. They rot you from the inside out. FIRST YOUR MATTRESS, NOW YOUR BOOTS. You will give and give until there is nothing left. A sacrifice, unwilling but ordained.

They move in silence, except when they don’t. A chorus of claws, a hymn of gnashing teeth. They spread sickness like gospel, like prophecy fulfilled. Holy infection. Gnawing devotion. The plague of faith with pink tails and black eyes.

You will scratch. You will cough. You will kneel.

You’re done. Done with the walls that breathe, the floorboards that scratch back, the whispers in the vents. Done with the stink of decay seeping into your sheets, into your hair, into your skin. The rats can have it. The mattress. The boots. The whole fucking place.

You’re leaving.

Because of Ren. One kind man. Your boyfriend. Seven days, and somehow, you managed to talk it out. To say it. You liked Ren. You really did. Soft hands, soft voice, soft everything. What surprised you was how eager he was—with that. With you. The moment you said you liked him, it was over. He latched on, sticky-sweet, clinging like you might disappear if he let go.

You didn’t mind.

The hallway smelled like dust and something old, something settled. You wanted to say goodbye. Just a quick knock on Violet’s door, a small wave, maybe a half-smile if you were feeling generous. You didn’t even like her that much—she was just there, always outside her apartment smoking cloves, watching the world through heavy-lidded eyes like she already knew how everything would end. But she was nice enough. She was someone who existed in the same space you did, which had to count for something.

You shifted the box in your arms, fingers curling against the cardboard, and turned toward her door.

Then—

“Angel, are you okay?”

Ren.

You startled, nearly dropping the box, because you hadn’t heard him approach. He was just there, suddenly, like he had been waiting for the exact moment you thought of leaving him alone. Wide blue eyes peeking out from under the rim of a froggy hat—soft green, button eyes, covering every inch of his fluffy pink hair. Every inch. Not a single curl in sight.

You giggled. You couldn’t help it.

He tilted his head, smiling at the sound. But something nagged at the back of your mind. He never covered his hair. Ren was all about touch—he liked when you played with it, when you ran your fingers through it, when you tugged just a little and watched his lashes flutter. He liked being seen. But now it was hidden, every strand tucked away beneath thick fabric, like it was never there at all.

Before you could ask, he noticed the box in your arms and made a small noise. “I’ll carry that.”

You shook your head. “It’s okay.”

For a second—just a second—his lips curled, something smug flashing in his eyes before he laughed and ran.

“Who reaches first?!”

And like that, your thoughts scattered. You gasped, gripping the box tighter as he took off down the hallway, his laughter bouncing off the walls.

“Ren—!”

But you were already running after him, giggling as you tried to catch up, feet pounding against the floor. The weight of the box slowed you down, but Ren wasn’t even trying to win, just looking back at you with that too-wide smile, steps just fast enough to keep you chasing. He liked when you chased.

You didn’t realize you had forgotten to knock on Violet’s door. Didn’t realize you hadn’t said goodbye at all.

Didn’t realize that, maybe, Ren had planned it that way.

Outside, the air was cool against your skin, the last traces of evening pressing soft against the horizon. The world was quiet out here, the hum of streetlights blending into the distant chatter of a city that never fully slept. Ren slowed to a stop near the moving truck, turning to face you with a victorious grin, still cradling your box like a prize.

“You lose,” he teased, rocking on his heels. “That means I get a kiss, right?”

You rolled your eyes, breathless from running. “That’s not how that works.”

Ren pouted, but his eyes were still smiling. He tilted his head, the froggy hat slipping just slightly forward. “I carried your box. You should reward me.”

“You stole my box.”

“Carried.”

“Stole.”

He gasped, dramatic, clutching at his chest. “Angel, I would never. You wound me.”

You laughed, reaching for the box, but he shifted it out of your reach with ease, holding it high over his head. You huffed, stepping closer, and he took a step back, grin widening.

“What’s with the hat?” you asked, changing tactics. You squinted at him, stepping in just a little more. Close enough to touch. “You never wear hats.”

His smile didn’t falter, but something in him stilled for just a moment, just a breath. “I wanted to be cute for you.”

“You’re always cute.”

He blinked. Then laughed—soft, warm, delighted, like he hadn’t expected you to say it. The box lowered slightly. “Angel.”

“Ren.”

The space between you buzzed. He tilted his head again, letting you see just the faintest flush dusting his cheeks, exaggerated by the green of the froggy hat.

“…Do you like it?”

You hummed, reaching up to tug at the rim just a little. “I like you.”

His breath hitched. And then he melted, shoulders loosening, eyes softening into something devoted. Obsessed.

“I love you,” he murmured.

Your chest squeezed. “It’s been seven days.”

“So?”

You had no answer. And maybe that was an answer in itself.

You lost.

Ren beat you to the entrance of his building with that same smug grin he always got when he pulled ahead. He didn't gloat, but you could feel it radiating off him, warm and sticky like honey in the sun. And you? You just huffed, breathless, grinning like an idiot as you caught up, half-wondering how he had the energy to sprint and look so unbothered about it.

Then he swiped his electronic key card.

WOAH.

Yeah, okay, you still said it. Loud, too. Like the first time. Like you hadn’t already visited this place, hadn’t already gawked at the sheer absurd richness of it. But come on—he had a whole damned foyer. In an apartment.

Ren laughed as the doors slid open with a soft, expensive-sounding click. “You really like saying that, huh?”

You shot him a look. “Well, sorry, not all of us live in a place where the elevator doesn’t creak like it’s about to collapse.”

“I’d save you if it did.”

His voice was light, teasing, but you didn’t doubt he actually meant it. And you? You just sighed, pretending to roll your eyes as you stepped inside.

Still ridiculous. Still overwhelming. Still unbelievably nice.

It smelled expensive in here, like something clean but not sterile, like whatever subtle scent they pumped through luxury hotels. The lighting was soft, the floors heated. Your shoes felt wrong stepping onto them, like you were dirtying something meant to stay untouched.

But Ren was already ahead of you, dropping your box by the entrance like it was nothing, then reaching into a small cubby near the wall. “Here,” he said, holding something out to you. A pair of house slippers, still neatly wrapped in plastic.

You blinked. “You… bought me shoes?”

Ren hesitated, his usual confidence dimming just a little. His fingers twitched on the plastic wrapping, and then, for once, he actually looked shy.

“You’re staying, so…” He cleared his throat, shoving them into your hands. “It’d be rude to make you walk around barefoot.”

What the hell.

What the hell.

It was still so insane to you. Not the apartment, not the foyer, not the money. Ren. Ren being this nice. Ren being so nice. To you. You had only known him for seven days and he was already like this, already so attentive, already ready for you, like he had been preparing for this from the start. It was a little weird. A little eccentric.

But you? You were an idiot. A dumb, lucky idiot.

So you took the slippers, sat down, and pulled them on. Bless this man.

Ren watched, his eyes flickering with something you couldn’t quite place, then exhaled, like he had just won some kind of internal debate. “Oh,” he said, suddenly fidgeting again. “And, uh. About that.”

You looked up.

Ren rubbed the back of his neck, eyes darting to the side. “I, um. I gave you your own room. For now.”

For now.

You blinked again, slower this time.

“I just—” He hesitated, then smiled, small and careful. “I don’t want to overstep anything. Y’know, since we’re still figuring things out.”

…What the hell.

You stared at him, at this boy who had just beaten you in a race to his stupidly fancy apartment, who had already bought you house slippers, who had set up an entire room for you just so you wouldn’t feel pressured, and you just—

You didn’t know what to say.

So you did the next best thing: you thanked him. Earnestly.

Ren beamed. That stupid, boyish, sticky-sweet smile that made your stomach turn weird.

And then, finally, finally, you asked what had been itching in the back of your mind since he first popped up out of nowhere.

“…Why are you wearing that hat?”

Ren blinked. “Huh?”

You pointed. “The frog hat. It covers your entire head. I can’t see your hair.”

For a second, he didn’t say anything. Then, too quickly, he blurted, “I, uh. I kinda messed it up.”

You tilted your head. “Messed what up?”

“My hair.” He scratched his cheek, looking away. “Ordered the wrong batch of dye…” His voice dropped, muttering something too low for you to hear.

You squinted. “What?”

But Ren was already stepping away, already shifting the conversation like a well-practiced trick. “Anyway!” He clapped his hands. “You should change. The bathroom’s down the hall.”

You frowned, suspicious, but he only smiled.

Too easy. Too slick.

Ren sniffled. Just a little. A soft, barely-there sound, like he was trying not to make a big deal out of it, but you noticed. You always noticed.

“You okay?” you asked, eyeing him as he rubbed at his nose.

“Oh—yeah, yeah.” He waved a hand dismissively, his voice a little stuffy. “Just a little sick. Nothing serious.”

You frowned. “You should rest.”

Ren brightened, suddenly perking up way too much for someone who had just admitted they were sick. “Oh, but before that—” He rocked on his heels, looking almost nervous now. “I, uh. I wanted to tell you something.”

“…Okay?”

His fingers twitched at his sides. Then he cleared his throat, standing up just a little straighter, as if that would help get the words out properly.

“So, um.” He took a breath. “I already paid your rent.”

Silence.

You blinked.

“What.”

“For the whole year!” he added quickly. His hands shot up in some kind of panicked gesture, as if to soften the insanity of what he had just said. “I just—I thought it’d make things easier for you, and—”

“What.”

He stammered. Actually stammered. “It’s—it’s fine! You don’t have to pay me back or anything, I—”

“Ren.”

“I just—I want you to be comfortable! That’s all!” He was so frantic, so eager, so stupidly bright-eyed about it, like an overexcited puppy who didn’t quite realize he had just knocked over the whole table.

You just stared.

He paid your rent. For the entire year.

“What the hell,” you whispered, voice barely steady.

Ren flinched, and the sight of it broke you. He didn’t want you to be upset. He didn’t want you to think of it as a bad thing, didn’t want you to feel like a burden or anything other than happy. You could see it in the way he was fidgeting, his fingers curling and uncurling at his sides, his whole body practically vibrating with nervous energy.

It was too much.

And you? You almost cried.

You weren’t even sure what hit you first. The sheer weight of it, the overwhelming kindness, the way he was so eager to give, to do this for you, to take on something that wasn’t his responsibility just because he wanted to.

Ren made a tiny, startled noise when you stepped forward. He barely had time to react before you crashed into him, arms wrapping tight around his middle, pressing your face into his chest.

For a second, he didn’t move.

Then, suddenly, he almost jumped, body jerking before he practically melted into you, hugging you so tight, so fiercely, like he had been waiting for this.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you mumbled, voice thick. “You didn’t have to—”

“I wanted to.” He buried his face against your shoulder, voice muffled but earnest. “I wanted to, Angel.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, inhaling deep. You didn’t deserve him. You really, really didn’t deserve him. He was too nice. Too nice. It almost hurt how nice he was.

You pulled back just enough to look at him, his face way too close, his arms still tight around you, warm and solid and real.

You kissed his cheek.

Ren froze.

A tiny, sharp inhale. A complete full-body reaction.

You smiled, pressing your forehead against his, barely able to see with how blurred your vision had gotten. “Thank you for coming into my life.”

He looked love-struck.

Actually, physically struck by love.

His lips parted, his pupils huge, his face so red it almost matched his usual hair color—except, well. You still couldn’t see his hair. Stupid froggy hat.

For a moment, you thought he might cry too.

Instead, he suddenly pulled back. Too fast. Too clumsy.

“I—I should—” He turned, stepping away only to trip over absolutely nothing.

“Ren!” You reached out instinctively.

He stumbled but caught himself against the wall, laughing—embarrassed, giddy, too many emotions packed into one person. “I’m okay! I’m okay.”

You frowned. “Be careful.”

He exhaled hard, shaking his head, still smiling like an idiot. Then, finally, he looked back at you, softer now. “Go sleep, Angel.”

You couldn’t quite place it, but something in his tone had shifted, as if there were a thousand unsaid things he was trying to hold back. You smiled, ready to retreat into your room for the night, the events of the day still swirling around in your mind like a fever dream.

Then, as you were about to close the door, he appeared again, holding your clothing box in his hands. He looked… almost nervous. His cheeks were tinged with pink, and there was a slight tremor in his fingers as he handed the box over to you.

“I—I almost forgot,” Ren said, his voice thick, like he was trying to control something. Something deep inside. He didn’t look directly at you at first, his gaze flitting to the floor, to the side—anywhere but your face.

"Thank you, Ren," you said, still feeling a sense of warmth bubble up from the way he had cared for you, for everything he’d done. It felt… unreal, the way he had been so giving, so gentle. But then, Ren shifted again, stepping just a little too close. His breath caught, and you could feel his presence grow around you, suffocating in its quiet intensity.

“Angel…” he whispered, his voice breaking slightly, almost like he was afraid to even say your name. He moved your hair away from your neck, fingers brushing lightly against your skin, sending an electric shock through you. You froze, caught off guard by the sudden softness in his touch, but there was something more there, something heavier, something dark.

“I—” He hesitated, and you felt a weird knot form in your stomach. He wasn’t looking at you now, his eyes downcast, almost embarrassed. His hands were trembling, the clothing box in his arms like it weighed nothing compared to what was running through his mind. “Angel, I—I just need to ask you something.”

You blinked, your own heart racing now. “What is it?”

Ren swallowed, his voice barely a whisper. “Do you… do you love me?” His voice cracked as he spoke, the words torn between desperation and something else—something you couldn’t quite identify. He looked at you finally, eyes wide with need, with raw, unfiltered emotion. “Do you love me like this?”

You stared at him, confusion furrowing your brow. “Like this?”

He was visibly shaking now, his fingers tightening around the box. His face was flushed with embarrassment, but his eyes were clouded with a deep longing. He couldn’t look away, couldn’t pull himself back. "Like this. Just... me. The way I am. All of me.” He winced, as if the words were hard to get out, as if he had to rip them from his own chest. “I—I just want to know. If I’m perfect for you… in your eyes.”

There was a moment where time seemed to stretch, where everything felt suspended in the air between you two. You couldn’t help but feel a swell of something warm and protective, something that ached deep in your chest at how much Ren wanted this—wanted you to say it, wanted to hear you tell him that he was good enough.

You opened your mouth, but words failed for a moment. The emotional weight in the room was too much, too overwhelming for you to properly process all at once.

And then, with a deep breath, you spoke. “I love you, Ren.”

His eyes widened, and then his face—his beautiful face—was overcome with something so fragile and pure, it made you feel weak in the knees. His cheeks flushed deeper, and he suddenly pulled you into a tight, almost frantic hug. You could feel his heart beating hard against yours, his breath coming in uneven, desperate gasps.

“I love you, Angel,” he repeated into your hair, voice barely intelligible as he hugged you tighter, like he was trying to hold you in place, like he was afraid if he let go, you might slip away. He was crying, though you could barely tell through the small, stifled sobs. “I love you so much. I—I didn’t think you’d—” He cut himself off, his emotions overwhelming him, making him speechless.

You felt your own eyes well up, the overwhelming sense of affection filling you up until it hurt. “Ren, I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

But you could feel his shaking, his entire body trembling with emotion. His hands clutched at you desperately, and he whispered, almost like a prayer, “Please, don’t leave me. Please… I can’t be without you. You’re everything. You’re everything.”

The desperation in his voice made your heart ache for him.

Ren pulled back slightly, his hands still on your shoulders, his eyes locked onto yours, that same intensity still burning. He smiled softly, though there was a hint of something frantic, like he was still trying to hold it all together. “I’m glad,” he whispered, voice trembling. “I’m glad you love me.”

He suddenly straightened, his posture almost rigid as he turned away, almost like he had just caught himself in something, a bit of control returning to his shoulders. “I’ll get the rest of your stuff,” he said quickly, trying to brush it off.

But you stopped him. “It’s fine, Ren. I’ve got it.”

“No, no. I—I want to,” he insisted, eyes shining with that same intensity. He gripped your hand in his, the small moment of affection making your stomach flip. “I’ll get it, Angel. Wait here.”

You nodded, but as he hurried down the hall, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was… off.

You entered your room, setting the clothing box on the bed. As you closed the door, you felt the faintest sense of unease gnaw at you, though it wasn’t something you could easily name.

Ren stood still in front of the mirror, his hand trembling as it pressed against his face, hiding the soft, self-loathing smile that spread across his lips. He was so close—so close to everything he wanted. To you. To having you. And now you were here. With him. You chose him.

You chose him.

In the quiet of the moment, his fingers traced the outline of his face, almost lovingly, as if to reassure himself that the person staring back at him in the mirror was truly who he had become.

The other REDACTED—the one who had never been enough—the one who was so weak, so pathetic—he was gone. Gone like the skin of an old, discarded self that no longer mattered. That person didn't deserve you. That failure didn’t deserve a single thought from you.

The new Ren, though? The one standing before you, the one you called by name, the one who held your heart in his palm with trembling fingers? That Ren was the one you loved.

He closed his eyes for a second, letting the thought wrap around him like a warm blanket, soothing the gnawing, twisted feeling in his chest. No more pretending. No more hiding. He had transformed for you—because you needed him. You needed him to be strong. To be worthy of you. So, he became Ren.

A tiny laugh escaped his lips, soft but dangerous, like a secret only he would ever know. He could feel it. The ache in his chest, the way his heart swelled when he thought of you. The way he almost lost control at the thought of you being with anyone else. But that was all gone now.

He had you.

And you—oh, you would never leave him. Not now. Not after everything he had done. Everything he had become.

His fingers curled tighter around his face, pressing the heels of his palms against his eyes, as if trying to suppress the wave of emotion threatening to drown him. He was weak again, but this time, it wasn’t from lack of effort. No. This time, it was because he had finally given in—given in to the need to own you, to make sure that no one could touch you. No one could have you but him.

But then his thoughts twisted again.

He hated himself.

He hated REDACTED.

The one who had never been good enough for anyone, especially you. The one who never understood why anyone would care about him, the one who couldn’t even keep his hair the right color. That REDACTED was worthless. A failure. And in the pit of his stomach, he still felt that gnawing self-hatred, the reminder of who he used to be.

He didn't deserve you.

He clutched the fabric of his clothes—his carefully chosen attire—and thought about the effort it took to craft this persona, this perfect version of himself. You wouldn’t love him if he was weak. You wouldn’t look at him the way you did now if you saw the truth beneath the mask. So he gave you Ren. This Ren. The strong, kind, loving Ren that you needed.

And somehow, it was enough for you. Enough that you would choose him.

The old REDACTED—the ugly, broken REDACTED—had no place in your life. That REDACTED would have only destroyed everything. But now, this new Ren—the one you needed, the one you loved—he would make sure you never left. He would make sure you belonged to him.

He lowered his hands, his reflection staring back at him, the soft pink hair still hidden beneath the frog hat, his body still just as delicate as ever. But beneath that surface was the raw, trembling devotion that would never let you slip away.

“You’re mine, Angel,” he whispered to the reflection, as if trying to remind himself of his purpose, his new self. “You are mine.”

And then the realization hit him: this was it. This was the moment.

There was no going back.

Ren gripped the edges of the counter, the dark, obsessive smile stretching across his face once more. He had crossed the line, and there was no one left to stop him. He had you now. And nothing would take you from him.

You leaned back against the cool, smooth surface of the couch, eyes staring into the nothingness of the wall in front of you as you spoke into the phone. Your voice was a quiet mix of frustration and fear, too many things you weren’t sure how to articulate.

“Yeah, Elenor... I’m still staying with Ren,” you sighed, your words coming out almost too tired. “I mean, I like him. I’ve always liked him... It’s just... it’s like he’s... always been there. So kind, so nice to me.” Your throat tightened slightly at the thought. “He does everything for me. I don’t know how he does it, but it’s like he’s... trying to make up for something.”

The weight of the last few days sat heavy on your shoulders. Ren’s soft smile, his gentleness, the way he watched you like he was afraid you’d disappear if he blinked. It all made your stomach twist in both comfort and confusion. And it wasn’t just that. There was something else, something that made you feel like you were on the edge of a truth you couldn't reach—yet couldn't avoid.

"But..." you continued, almost whispering, your words faltering. "I think I’ve taken too much of him. He’s always doing things for me, always... offering his space, his time. It’s like, I don’t even know how to repay him, you know? And I don't even know if I should be taking all of it. It feels wrong sometimes."

The thought of too much—of overstaying your welcome in his space, in his life—felt suffocating. You had been around him for a week now, and it was intense. More than you could have imagined.

Elenor’s voice came through the phone, a soft but persistent murmur of concern. "Y/N, you're not a burden. If you feel comfortable, then stay. But... what's really bothering you?"

Your heart skipped, and you exhaled sharply. You leaned forward, resting your elbows on your knees, a wave of worry crashing over you as you thought of that other thing—the stalker. The person who had been creeping around, sending odd messages, showing up in places they shouldn’t be. It had been escalating, and it terrified you more than you wanted to admit.

“It’s just... Ren,” you said, barely believing it yourself as the words left your lips. “I mean, he told me he would keep me safe from them. That one word... ‘safe’... He makes me feel like I trust him more than anyone else. And I... I do. I trust him. I trust him more than I should.”

Your voice dropped off at the end, an unsettling feeling in the pit of your stomach. That wasn’t what bothered you. What bothered you was the thought that maybe you shouldn’t trust him as much as you did. You had no real reason not to... but still, something gnawed at you. It felt like there was something more—something you weren’t seeing.

You stood, pacing slightly as the phone sat in your hand. “But… Elenor, it’s like... why do I feel like I’ve known him longer? Like I’ve been through this with him before? Maybe I’m just being dramatic, or it’s just a dream. But I can't shake the feeling... that I know him—no, that he knows me in a way no one else does. It’s... it’s so hard to explain.” You stopped in your tracks, staring out the window with your breath caught in your throat.

You knew it didn’t make sense. You trusted Ren. You really did. He was so kind, so patient, but something about the situation felt off. You could feel it crawling beneath your skin, just waiting for you to acknowledge it.

"God, Elenor," you muttered, "Why am I even thinking this way? He’s just trying to protect me... and I’m sitting here, suspecting him? What is wrong with me?"

The guilt twisted in your chest.

You hung up the phone, feeling the weight of everything press down on you. The stalker. Ren’s kindness. Your growing trust in him. It was all tangled up in your mind, making it hard to think clearly. You wanted to feel safe. You wanted to believe in him completely. But there was that other feeling. That whisper in the back of your head, telling you there was something you hadn’t seen yet.

And as much as you tried to push it away, it was growing louder.

But you couldn't… You couldn’t doubt him. Not now. Not when he’d done everything to keep you safe, to make you feel welcome.

But still…

Why did it feel like you were standing on the edge of something you couldn’t control?

You decided to sleep..

The world around you felt heavy, like swimming through something thick and suffocating. You weren’t sure when you had fallen asleep, but here you were—somewhere that felt both distant and too close at the same time.

You heard it first.

A voice. Soft. Gentle. A whisper floating through the void like a lullaby.

"Angel…"

Your heart squeezed. That name.

"Angel… where are you?"

You turned, eyes darting through the darkness, searching. Footsteps echoed, and you realized—you were running.

But why?

With every step, something felt off. Your body—smaller. Your legs shorter. The oversized sleeves of your favorite purple hoodie brushed against your hands, just like it used to when you were little. And then, through the haze of memories that weren’t quite memories, you saw him.

A boy.

His hair was black, not Ren’s familiar soft pink, and his blue eyes shimmered under the dim, dreamlike light. He stood there, small and hesitant, clutching something in his hands. He looked familiar—too familiar—but the name in your head didn’t quite fit.

Wasn’t this… REDACTED?

No.

No, it wasn’t.

Your breath hitched as you moved closer, feeling a weight settle deep in your chest.

“Angel…” The boy—who wasn’t Ren—spoke shyly, his voice so small, so fragile. “I-I… I have something for you.”

He lifted his hands.

A ring.

Tiny, gold, glinting even in the strange darkness. Not fancy, not expensive—just a simple little band. But he held it like it was the most important thing in the world.

"For tuu…" he mumbled, his voice laced with nervous excitement.

Something in your heart twisted. This moment. You knew this moment.

You reached out, almost touching his hands, when—

"Hey, what are you doing?"

A new voice.

Your head snapped to the side, and suddenly you weren’t alone with him anymore.

Another child. Taller. Leon.

His face was shadowed, unreadable, but you could feel his presence, his overprotectiveness. Even in the dream, even as a child, he stood between you and the boy like a wall.

He didn’t like this.

You knew before it even happened.

And then—he shoved him.

The tiny ring slipped from the boy’s hands, hitting the ground with a soft clink. His dark eyes widened in panic as he scrambled to grab it, but before he could—

Leon kicked it away.

“Stop bothering them,” Leon’s voice was sharp, almost possessive. “They don’t need weirdos like you.”

The boy froze.

Your chest tightened painfully, something screaming inside of you that this was wrong, wrong, wrong.

The boy stared at the lost ring, at Leon, then at you.

His hands curled into fists at his sides.

He didn’t yell. He didn’t fight.

Instead, he bent down, picked up the ring with trembling hands, and held it against his chest.

Then, so softly you almost didn’t hear—

“…Okay.”

A whisper.

“…I’ll try again.”

His small voice cracked.

His shoulders shook.

And then—he was crying.

It shattered something deep inside of you.

You saw your childhood self hesitate, stepping toward him, but Leon pulled you back.

“Let’s go,” Leon muttered. “You don’t need to waste time on him.”

Your small hands twitched at your sides.

Your child self looked back.

One last time.

At the boy holding the ring like it was all he had.

At the pain in his eyes.

At his tears.

And then—darkness.

Everything twisted.

Reality snapped and distorted like a glitching screen, and suddenly, it wasn’t just the past anymore.

Suddenly—

You were falling.

Falling straight into those dark, familiar eyes.

A deep, obsessive gaze.

And then—

Hands grabbed you.

Clutching. Pulling.

"Angel."

His voice.

"Stay with me."

You couldn't breathe.

"Angel."

You saw his face.

The boy was older now. No longer a child.

No longer soft.

His black hair, his dark, blue eyes.

"You promised."

Promised what?!

You tried to pull away, tried to run—

"Don’t leave me again."

And then—

A SMILE.

Wide. Twisted.

Obsessed.

The dark eyes swallowed you whole.

And then—

You screamed.

You woke up.

Gasping. Drenched in sweat.

Your heart pounded against your ribs like it was trying to escape.

The room was dark, too quiet, too unfamiliar.

Ren’s apartment.

You were safe.

Right?

Your hands clutched the sheets, your breath shaking. The dream—the memory?—was already slipping away, but that feeling, that fear, still clung to your skin.

That boy.

That name.

Why couldn’t you remember his name?

But you knew—you knew.

This wasn’t just a dream.

It was something more.

Something you had forgotten.

Something you had lost.

And yet…

You turned, staring at the bedroom door.

Your breath was still uneven, the remnants of that dream gripping at your chest like unseen hands. You needed air. You needed… Ren.

Slipping out of bed, your feet hit the cool floor, grounding you back into reality. This was Ren’s apartment. It was safe. You were safe.

Right?

You cracked open the door, peering into the dimly lit hallway. The apartment was silent, but something in the air felt off. Heavy. Like it was watching you.

Ren’s room.

That’s where you needed to go.

Step by step, you moved, the floor quiet beneath you. His door was just slightly ajar, enough that the soft glow of a nightlight seeped out. But when you pushed it open—

Empty.

Ren wasn’t here.

The neatly made bed, the folded blankets, the plush frog sitting perfectly centered on the pillows—everything was untouched. It looked like he hadn’t even been here tonight.

Your stomach twisted.

Where was he?

And then—

You heard it.

A noise. Faint, muffled, but unmistakable.

A voice.

Ren’s voice.

But he wasn’t speaking.

He was panting.

Short, shaky breaths, almost strained. Like he was struggling. Like he was—

Your body tensed as you followed the sound down the hall.

To the one place he told you not to go.

The room at the very end.

You swallowed hard.

He had said it was just old stuff.

Things he didn’t want to look at.

Things that didn’t matter anymore.

And yet…

You stood in front of the door.

The sounds were clearer now, the sharp rise and fall of his breath, like he was working himself into something feverish. It was almost desperate.

Your hand hovered over the handle, but—

A password lock.

The glowing numbers blinked at you, blocking you from whatever lay beyond.

You shouldn’t be here.

You shouldn’t even be thinking about this.

Forget it.

Just go back to bed.

Trust Ren.

Trust him.

But…

Your fingers twitched.

Curiosity curled around your ribs like an eager whisper.

Why was he in there?

Why not in his own bed?

Why lock the door?

And why… why did the way he sounded make something in your gut churn with uncertainty?

You didn’t understand.

Your hands were clammy, your heart pounding so hard you swore it would wake Ren—wherever he was.

The keypad blinked at you, waiting.

You hesitated, fingers hovering over the numbers. You tried something random—some goddess’s name, something mystical, something obscure. Nothing.

You exhaled, gripping your wrist, willing yourself to be rational.

You shouldn’t be doing this.

But the dream still lingered like static in your skull, the boy’s eyes, the lost ring, the way Ren had always felt so… familiar.

You licked your lips, staring at the keypad, and then—

You typed in your birthday.

Just as a joke. Just to see.

You didn’t even know why.

It wasn’t like you’d ever told him.

Right?

And then—

Click.

The lock flashed green.

The door unlocked.

Your blood went cold.

No.

That wasn’t—

That wasn’t possible.

Your breath hitched, and for a moment, you just stood there. Frozen.

Because this was wrong.

This was so wrong.

You never told him.

You would have remembered telling him, right?

The thought sent a sick shiver down your spine.

How did Ren know your birthday?

You stepped back, every part of you screaming to turn around, go back to bed, pretend you never did this.

And yet—

The door, now slightly ajar, called to you like a mouth just barely parted.

A dark, waiting secret.

And from inside—

The sound of Ren’s breath, sharp, shaking, desperate.

You had a choice.

Walk away.

Or step inside.

Your breath was shallow as you stepped inside the dimly lit room, your fingers trembling as they pushed open the door just enough to let you slip in. The air was thick, oppressive, and something about it felt suffocating. Like you weren’t supposed to be here. Like the walls themselves were whispering turn back.

But you didn’t.

Instead, you took another step forward, your foot making the faintest creak against the floorboards. And then you saw them.

The pictures.

Lining the left-hand side of the room, pinned with precision, hundreds of them.

At first, they looked like ordinary photos—old, slightly yellowed at the edges. But the more you looked, the more your stomach twisted.

They were all of you.

You recognized some—pictures taken from your social media, old selfies, candid shots where you were mid-laugh or deep in thought. But others—

Your fingers clenched. Your breath hitched.

These were different.

A shot of you as a child, no older than five, in a park with a bright purple hoodie. A blurry image of you in middle school, sitting at your desk, eyes down, utterly unaware of the camera. You didn’t remember anyone taking these.

And worse—

They weren’t just old.

Some of them were before you even met Ren.

Your blood ran cold.

Your hand twitched at your side, fingers flexing, as if trying to ground yourself in reality. Maybe you were wrong. Maybe—maybe these weren’t what they seemed.

Maybe it was just a coincidence—

You turned, needing something—anything—to contradict the horror sinking into your bones.

But then you saw the right-hand side.

More pictures. More of you.

And these weren’t just old. They were recent.

You sleeping in your bed.

You sitting at a café, headphones in, oblivious to the camera.

You inside your own house, looking out the window, unaware you were being watched.

Your stomach churned. Your heart pounded, cold sweat forming at the back of your neck.

How?

You took a step back, swallowing thickly.

And then—

A sound.

Slow, ragged breathing.

It was coming from the farthest corner of the room.

Your head snapped toward the sound, your whole body frozen in place. And there, sitting hunched on the floor, shrouded in shadow—

A boy.

His back was facing you, his shoulders trembling slightly with every breath he took. His black hair fell in messy strands over his face, over his hands, over the bent curve of his form. It was long—longer than Ren’s. But the more you stared, the more a realization crept up your spine, slow and paralyzing.

The same eyes.

The same voice—when he had panted behind this door.

You felt your lips part before you even realized you were speaking.

“…[REDACTED]?”

The moment the name left your mouth, the boy flinched.

A violent, shuddering jolt, like you had struck him with a knife.

Slowly—so, so slowly—he turned his head.

And then—

You saw his face.

It was Ren. But it wasn’t.

The same eyes. The same face. But his pink hair—gone. In its place was jet black, stark against his pale skin, and his expression—

It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t Ren.

It was raw. Wild. Desperate.

“Angel…” he whispered, voice hoarse, thick with something you couldn’t name. His wide, glistening eyes locked onto yours, his breath coming in uneven gasps. His lips parted, but no more words came out—only small, broken sounds, like something inside him was fracturing, shattering before your very eyes.

Your heart slammed against your ribs.

It was him.

The boy from your dream.

The boy who called you Angel.

The boy who once held out a ring for you, years ago, only to be crushed by another’s cruelty.

The boy who never stopped chasing you.

“N-No… no no no no…” he whimpered, shaking his head violently, hands grasping at his hair as if trying to pull himself apart. “Not yet. Not yet, Angel, it wasn’t—It was supposed to be perfect.”

You took a step back, your entire body trembling. Ren never stuttered. Never lost control. But this—this was not the Ren you knew.

And then, like a dam bursting, he sobbed.

He sobbed.

Not soft, not quiet—loud, broken, shaking cries. His hands clawed at his face, his breath ragged and uneven. His shoulders shook as he gasped for air, like he was trying to breathe you in.

“It was going so well…” he choked out, curling into himself. “You stayed, you were happy, you—you loved me. You loved me, Angel. It was supposed to be okay, it was supposed to be—”

His voice cracked. His hands gripped his arms, nails digging deep, too deep.

“You weren’t supposed to see this.”

A shiver ran through your spine, your feet frozen in place.

You tried to understand. Tried to process.

Ren—no, not Ren.

[REDACTED] had always been there.

Watching.

Waiting.

The sweet, gentle Ren you knew—the one who kissed your forehead, who held your hand, who laughed with you—that was him, too.

But it wasn’t.

Because this was Ren.

A boy who had shed his old self like dead skin.

A boy who had erased every trace of the past that Angel—his Angel—might not have loved.

And now, you had seen it.

Now, you knew.

His wide, tear-streaked eyes found yours again, and in that moment, the madness swirling inside them was as clear as a mirror.

He smiled.

Soft. Devoted.

His lips curled, his entire body trembling with emotion, and then—

He crawled toward you.

“Angel…” he whispered, voice quivering, thick with tears. His fingers reached for your ankle, barely brushing against the fabric of your pants. “Please… don’t run.”

You stumbled backward, your breath hitching as your vision blurred at the edges. Panic clawed at your throat. No, no, no. This wasn’t happening. Your body screamed at you to run, but your legs barely moved—jelly beneath you, wobbling as you reached for the door.

Your fingers fumbled with the handle. You wrenched it open. A burst of cold air, freedom, just a step away—

A force yanked you back, slamming the door shut with a resounding thud. You gasped, air cut short as an arm wrapped tight around your middle, pulling you flush against a trembling chest. His breath was hot, uneven, panting against the shell of your ear. The scent of him—familiar yet foreign—invaded your senses. His grip was suffocating, his presence engulfing, an inescapable cage.

Your phone clattered to the ground. No chance of calling for help.

His hand pressed over your mouth as you tried to scream. His whole body shook against you, but whether it was from anger or desperation, you didn’t know. You struggled, nails digging into his skin, but it only made him hold tighter.

"Don’t," he whispered, his voice cracked, raw with something unreadable. His forehead pressed against your shoulder, his entire body tensed like a string about to snap. "Angel, don’t—don’t run from me."

You thrashed. You elbowed his ribs, stomped on his foot, anything to break free. His grip loosened just enough for you to twist away, for you to stumble toward the window, toward anything, anywhere but here. But he was faster.

A tangle of limbs, the sensation of falling. The impact knocked the air from your lungs as you hit the floor, a sharp pain shooting up your spine.

And then—

His weight pressed down on you, his knees caging you in.

His hands trembled as they found your wrists, pinning them above your head.

He was shaking. His breath hitched like he was trying not to sob.

You squeezed your eyes shut. You refused to look at him. You didn’t want to see whatever expression he was wearing—

"Look at me," he whispered, voice barely holding together.

You refused.

"Please." His voice cracked.

Slowly, hesitantly, your eyes opened.

His face was streaked with tears. His lips trembled, his expression raw, vulnerable, broken. And there, around his neck, a chain hung, glinting under the dim light.

A ring.

A ring you had seen before.

Your stomach twisted.

His hand curled around yours, and your breath hitched when you felt something cold against your finger.

Another ring.

It looked like a wedding band.

Your pulse roared in your ears, drowning out everything else.

His fingers, scarred, burned, holding onto yours so tightly it hurt. His tattooed neck, the ink forming a heart, your name embedded in his skin like a permanent scar.

His lips trembled as he whispered, "You were always mine. From the start."

You felt your world tilt, reality fracturing at the edges.

And then, finally—

You screamed.

Around his neck, dangling from a delicate chain, was the same ring from your dream. The ring that little boy—no, REDACTED—had once offered you, the ring he had picked up from the dirt after Leon had tossed it away.

"I kept it," he choked out. "I kept everything. I waited. I changed. I—I became someone you could love. Because the old me—he wasn’t enough, was he?"

His fingers curled around yours, forcing them to touch the wedding band on his hand.

"But this time… I made sure. I made sure you’d stay."

You gasped, your breath catching in your throat, but he wasn’t done. His entire body trembled, a shuddering breath escaping him before his hands dropped to his sides, clenching into fists. His eyes darkened, an unhinged, broken sort of despair creeping into them as his lips parted. His entire frame shook.

"LOOK AT ME!" he suddenly screamed, his voice breaking apart, desperate, raw, aching.

You flinched, but he wasn’t stopping. His breath hitched, and then, like a dam bursting, he sobbed—loud, uncontrollable, a pitiful noise that clawed through the space between you.

"I ruined it! I—I ruined everything!" He collapsed against you, his forehead pressing against your shoulder as his body wracked with silent cries. "No, no, no… It was perfect, it was all going to be perfect, I just needed more time! More time to fix it, more time to be him! But you—You had to come here! You had to—!"

His hands gripped your arms like a vice, as if he were terrified you’d disappear the moment he let go.

"I didn’t want you to see me like this," he whispered, his voice raw, his words frantic. "I—I was supposed to be like Haruko. I was supposed to be good for you. Someone you could love. But I can’t—I can’t be him all the time! I can’t—"

He hiccupped between words, his fingers curling tighter. "I tried, Angel. I tried so hard. But it wasn’t enough, was it? You still found out. You still see me as that… thing."

His nails dug deeper into your skin, and you winced.

"But I had to do it," he continued, his voice turning frantic, desperate. "Because you—" He swallowed hard, his breath shaky. "You never loved me before. You never even looked at me."

A trembling hand reached up, tracing the line of your jaw, down to your collarbone, resting against your hammering pulse.

"But you love Ren, don't you?" His grip tightened. "You love the one I made for you."

Your mind was screaming. Your body was screaming. And yet, your voice refused to come out.

"Say it," he pleaded. "Say you love me. Say you won’t leave. Please, Angel—just say it."

Tears streamed down his face, raw emotion cracking through every fiber of his being. His chest heaved with every shaky breath, his heart pounding so loudly that you swore it echoed against your ribs.

"I need you," he whimpered. "I need you more than you could ever know."

kept it," he choked out. "I kept everything. I waited. I changed. I—I became someone you could love. Because the old me—he wasn’t enough, was he?"

His fingers curled around yours, forcing them to touch the wedding band on his hand.

"But this time… I made sure. I made sure you’d stay."

His voice cracked, the carefully constructed facade of Ren trembling at the edges. His breathing hitched as his grip on you tightened, not with force, but with a desperation so palpable it left you breathless.

"Angel, do you know what it’s like? To be invisible to the one person who mattered? To watch from the shadows, to shape yourself into something they might finally see?" His voice rose, frantic. "You see me now, don’t you? You’re looking at me now. You know who I am. Not just Ren, not just some stranger you met in a library—ME. The real me. The one who has always, always loved you."

His expression twisted, the manic gleam in his eyes sharp enough to slice through you. His breath came in uneven gasps, hands shaking as he clutched onto you like a lifeline.

"It was supposed to be perfect!" he shouted suddenly, the sheer anguish in his voice sending chills down your spine. "I did everything right! I became someone you could love! Haruko, Ren, whatever you wanted—I gave it to you! So why… why do you l look so scared?"

Tears welled in his eyes, though whether they were of frustration or heartbreak, you couldn’t tell. His whole body trembled, his forehead pressing against yours.

"Angel," he whispered, voice a broken plea. "Tell me it wasn’t all for nothing. Tell me you love me. Like this. As I am."

His fingers curled around the ring on his necklace, the metal cold against your skin. And in that moment, you realized—you weren’t looking at Ren anymore. The mask had finally, irrevocably cracked.

You were looking at REDACTED.

Ren's breathing was ragged, uneven. His fingers trembled as they curled into fists, then released, then clenched again. His shoulders shook, his entire body wracked with something dark and ugly that he couldn't contain any longer.

"Look at me!" he sobbed, voice breaking apart like glass shattering on concrete. "Please… just look at me, Angel. I'm sorry… I'm sorry I ruined it… I'm sorry I'm like this!"

His face was twisted in anguish, an expression so raw it cut deeper than any knife ever could. His tears fell onto your skin, hot and desperate, as he gripped onto you like you were the only thing keeping him tethered to the earth.

But you couldn't move.

Something cold and thick was creeping up your legs, winding around your ankles like tendrils of ink. It climbed, higher and higher, latching onto your waist, then your arms. Panic overtook you as you gasped, thrashing wildly, but the more you struggled, the faster it spread.

"S-Stop! Stop it!" you shrieked, clawing at the darkness consuming you. "This can't be happening!"

Ren's arms tightened around you, but it wasn't a comforting embrace. It was desperate. It was suffocating. His breath hitched as he felt you shuddering in his hold, your sobs turning into choked screams.

His praise became a fevered mantra, his lips moving against your temple as he whispered worship, obsession, madness.

"You're light. You're everything, you're perfect. I'm nothing without you. I'm nothing!"

The ink coiled around your throat. Fingers. Hands. Clutching, grasping, squeezing. It seeped into your mouth, into your lungs, and you gagged as the taste of rust and rot filled you from the inside out.

Your screams were muffled.

Memories—they came flooding back, crashing over you like a tidal wave.

A boy, small and quiet, his black hair hanging over his wide, fearful eyes.

A ring, tiny and glinting, held out to you with shaking fingers.

"Angel, it's for you…"

A rough shove, a cry of protest. Leon's voice, sharp and cruel.

"Get lost, freak!"

The ring, tumbling through the air, swallowed by the grass, lost.

And the boy—

[REDACTED].

He had picked it up.

He had picked himself up.

He had tried again.

But not as himself.

Ren collapsed inward, a hollow shell of the person he had tried to become. His hands trembled, gripping at his own arms as if trying to claw himself out of his own skin. "I didn't deserve you," he whispered, the words cracked and broken. "I never did. I never could. I'm filth. I'm nothing compared to you, Angel. You're— you're light. And I— I was never meant to touch you."

But he had touched you. His entire being had wrapped around yours like a parasitic vine, feeding off the glow that you barely recognized in yourself. And now, it was suffocating you. The air grew thick, tangible as black ink seeped into your skin, curling up your arms like coiling veins of tar. Your body twisted, recoiling, but it didn't stop. It climbed higher, reaching your chest, your throat, your mouth—

You couldn't breathe.

Hands. It felt like hands. Hands grabbing your limbs, your face, your throat, prying your lips apart. The ink curled inside you like a living entity, pulling, pulling, pulling. Your screams gurgled in your throat, strangled by the suffocating black.

"STOP!!! NOOO!!!" You writhed, thrashing against it, but there was nowhere to go. Nowhere to run. The hands held firm, yanking you down, burying you in a nightmare made flesh. You sobbed, fists slamming against Ren’s chest, clawing at him in sheer desperation.

Ren held onto you, his grip firm, but it wasn't controlling. It wasn't possessive. It was desperate. "Angel—" he choked, voice cracking as his forehead pressed to yours, his tears mixing with your own. "Please, don’t— I didn't want this, I never wanted this—"

But you didn’t hear him. You couldn't. Because suddenly, it wasn’t just his voice— it was another. A voice from a long, long time ago, buried deep beneath years of missing memories. A boy’s voice, timid and small.

"Angel, this is for you."

A ring, held out in tiny, shaking hands.

The child’s black hair was unevenly cut, his eyes the same dark abyss you now feared. Your younger self reached out, almost hesitantly—

Until Leon’s hands appeared, shoving him back. The ring tumbled to the ground, lost in the dirt.

"Get lost, Don't bother them."

You gasped, your whole body convulsing as reality lurched back into place.

Ren— [REDACTED]— clung to you, his whole body trembling as if he were barely holding himself together. You stared at him, your vision blurred with tears, your breath coming in ragged, choking gasps.

"WHY DID LEON THROW THAT RING AWAY?!" The words ripped out of you, raw and furious and agonized. "WHY DID YOU BECOME LIKE THIS?! WHY?!"

His eyes widened, lips parting, but no words came out. Only a silent, broken sob.

Memories slammed into you like a wrecking ball, each one hitting harder than the last. The boy from your dreams— he wasn’t just some shadowy figure from the past. He was real. He had always been real.

And he had always been right there, waiting. Watching. Loving you in the only way he knew how—

Even if it ruined him.

Even if it ruined you.

You screamed again, but this time, it wasn’t just fear. It was grief. It was rage. It was heartbreak, the overwhelming weight of it all crushing down on you like an avalanche. Your body convulsed, your nails digging into the floor, into your own arms, as if trying to rip your own skin open just to make it stop.

Ren— or whatever was left of him— cradled you against him, rocking slightly as tears streamed down his face. "I ruined everything," he murmured, his voice fractured. "I—I wanted to be perfect for you. I wanted to be someone you could love. But I was never enough, was I?"

You sobbed into his chest, your body shaking uncontrollably. You wanted to hate him. You wanted to scream at him, to push him away, to run. But something in you cracked at his words, something deep and ugly and tangled with guilt. Because you had known him. Because once, a long time ago, you had been friends.

And now, both of you were broken beyond repair.

The ink around you dissipated, but its presence lingered, staining everything it touched.

Including you.

Including him.

He ruined everything.

No.

You ruined him.

He was never supposed to be like this. He was supposed to be happy. He was supposed to be someone else, someone whole, someone untouched by obsession and pain and a love so twisted it devoured everything in its path.

And yet here he was.

Crying.

Crying for you, for himself, for the past that could never be undone.

You screamed, throat raw, body trembling as you pushed against him, nails digging into his arms, shoving with every ounce of strength you had left. "GO AWAY!! GO AWAY!!" The words left you like a desperate exorcism, like if you said them enough, you could banish him, the ink, the past, everything that led to this moment. But nothing changed. He was still there. Still looking at you with that broken, pleading gaze. Still holding you as if letting go meant losing himself entirely.

"I’m sorry… I’m sorry…!" You sobbed, body wracked with uncontrollable shudders. The ink, the memories, the suffocating weight of it all crushed down on you until the world blurred, until your head spun and your breath stuttered—until there was nothing but blackness.

When you woke up, your body ached. The room was eerily silent, save for the faint rhythm of breathing beside you. You turned your head, heart seizing at the sight of him—[REDACTED]—asleep, curled up just inches away. His fingers were loosely laced with yours, gripping even in unconsciousness, as if even in sleep, he was terrified of losing you again.

You stiffened, breath caught in your throat. He looked… so different like this. Not the monster you had screamed at. Not the obsessive shadow that had haunted you. Just… him. His face, usually sharp with desperation and unchecked emotion, was peaceful now. Vulnerable. His long lashes cast shadows over his pale skin, and his lips—so often trembling with unspoken words—were parted slightly, his breath warm against your wrist.

A choked noise slipped past your lips before you even realized it. You had ruined him, hadn’t you? You had left him behind, and he had chased you into madness. If you had just looked back—if you had just seen him, really seen him—maybe it wouldn’t have come to this. Maybe he wouldn’t have had to carve out a new identity just to be near you again.

Your eyes drifted to his chest, to the thin silver chain around his neck. There it was. The ring. The one he had once held out to you with trembling hands, the one Leon had tossed away like it meant nothing.

You hesitated only a moment before reaching out. Your fingers curled around the ring, carefully sliding it from the chain. The metal was cool against your skin as you turned it over, inspecting the worn edges, the faint imprint of time. And then, without thinking, without knowing why, you slid it onto your own ring finger.

It fit.

Tears welled up again, burning hot trails down your cheeks as you laid back down, curling up beside him. Not on the bed. Not in the safety of the blankets. But here. On the cold floor, next to the boy you had abandoned.

You didn’t care anymore.

You had ruined him.

You wanted to fix him.

And maybe, just maybe… you could tell him what you should have said all those years ago.

He didn’t need to be Ren.

[REDACTED] was enough.

...........

[msriri030]

Mafia!Ren/ [Redacted] x Reader

TW: mention and brief scene Abuse, slight mention of murder.

The night air was cold and heavy, each step you took down the dimly lit street weighed down by the lingering dread of what awaited you at home. You kept your head down, hands buried in your pockets, hoping, praying that tonight might be different—that your dad would be passed out, or maybe out drinking somewhere, anything to keep him away from you for just a few hours. But deep down, you knew he was there. He was always there, waiting for the next excuse to unleash his anger, fueled by the alcohol that twisted his thoughts into rage.

He would shout, throwing out slurs and curses, blaming your mother for leaving him, accusing her of destroying the family. You understood why she left—he was a monster to her. But what you couldn’t understand, what tore at your heart every time you thought about it, was why she left you behind. Why had she left you to fend for yourself with him?

These questions haunted you, but tonight, you pushed them away. Survival was all that mattered. You just needed to keep going, one more shift, one more day, until you had enough money to get out. You were so close. Just a little longer.

You quickened your pace as you neared home, bracing yourself for whatever was behind that door. The sounds of traffic and the city faded into the background as you got lost in your thoughts, barely noticing that you were walking straight into oncoming traffic until strong hands grabbed your arm, pulling you back with surprising force.

"Watch out, miss," a deep voice said with a small smile. "I don’t like seeing a pretty angel walking into traffic."

You blinked, stunned, and glanced up to find a large man standing beside you, concern etched on his face. “Giant… I—I’m sorry, how rude of me. Thank you for saving me, Mr...?”

"Mr. Ren," he replied with a grin, his voice calm and assured. "Just Ren is fine. And you are?"

You hesitated for a moment, unsure whether to trust him, but there was something in his steady gaze that put you at ease. “(First name)… (Last name).”

Ren raised an eyebrow, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Wait, (Last name)? Is... is (your father’s name) your husband?"

Your face flushed with a mix of surprise and frustration. “NO! He’s my father.” You quickly added, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to yell at you.” You paused for a second before offering hesitantly, “Why don’t I treat you to something? As a thank you, you know, for saving me?”

He chuckled softly, nodding. "A coffee sounds perfect. Just to keep you safe a little longer."

You nodded, a small, grateful smile tugging at your lips. There was something in his presence—calming, strong—that made the coldness of the night feel less oppressive. Together, you walked to a nearby diner, its neon lights casting a soft, inviting glow in the darkness.

Once inside, you settled across from Ren. The warm atmosphere of the diner contrasted sharply with the cold night outside, and for the first time in a while, you felt like you could breathe. Ren ordered two coffees, and as the two of you sat there, you couldn’t help but take in more of his appearance: the black hair tipped with pink, the piercings that glinted under the soft light, the tattoos that peeked out from under his sleeves and shirt collar. But it was his hands that caught your attention—scarred and calloused, like someone who had fought their own battles. The kind of hands that felt familiar in a way you couldn’t quite place.

"Something on your mind, angel?" Ren’s voice broke the silence. His eyes were kind, but there was an edge to them, as if he knew there was something more behind your guarded expression. “What made you so lost in thought that you didn’t see the cars?”

You hesitated, tracing the rim of your coffee cup with your finger, unsure of how much to say. "Just… life, I guess," you replied softly. "It’s been a little heavy."

Ren nodded, his gaze softening, understanding without needing more words. "Life can be a lot sometimes," he said quietly. "But it doesn’t stay dark forever. Even the longest nights end."

Your heart tightened at his words, an unexpected wave of warmth washing over you. “Thank you,” you whispered, feeling a flicker of hope in your chest.

You spent the next hour in easy conversation, the kind that allowed you to forget about the weight of the world for a while. When you finally checked the time, you realized it was late, and the reality of your situation rushed back.

Ren seemed to notice the shift in your demeanor. “Do you need someone to walk you home?” he asked, his voice gentle but insistent.

You hesitated, looking down the street toward the house that still felt like a prison. The thought of facing your father alone, of being caught in that cycle again, made your stomach twist with dread. “If you don’t mind…”

He smiled and stood, offering his hand. “Not at all, angel.”

You blushed, taking his hand.

The walk to your house was quiet, but for the first time in a long time, it didn’t feel suffocating. Ren’s presence beside you, strong and steady, made the night feel less dark, less frightening. When you reached the door, your heart sank as you heard your father’s drunken voice spilling out from inside. The slurred words, the anger, the madness—it was all too familiar.

You turned to Ren, forcing a weak smile onto your face. “Thank you, Ren. I—I hope—”

Before you could finish, the door slammed open with a violent crash. Your father stood in the doorway, his wild eyes landing on you before narrowing in fury. He shoved you hard, sending you falling backward. Your back hit the floor with a painful thud, the wind knocked out of you. 

“YOU USELESS BRAT!” he shouted, his voice full of venom and alcohol.

You gasped, struggling to breathe as his boot slammed down on your chest, pressing all the air out of your lungs. Desperately, You clawed at his leg. You tried to push his foot off, but his weight was crushing.

“You think you can just come and go as you please?” he sneered, each word a dagger. “You’re just like your mother—always running off. Always a disappointment!”

You bit back the tears threatening to spill, your hands trembling as you still were trying to pry his foot off. The words cut deeper than his blows ever could, but you refused to cry in front of him. You wouldn’t give this man that satisfaction of breaking you.

Then, like a storm crashing through the door, Ren’s voice rang out, cold and deadly. “(Last name). Get. OFF. Her.”

You barely had time to process the change in the air before Ren was there, his massive frame a shadow over your father. He stood like a wall, his presence intimidating, overwhelming, as if the very air around him shifted with authority.

Your father, drunk and staggering, turned to face Ren, but the fear in his eyes was unmistakable. “Who the hell are you?” he slurred, his bravado fading quickly. “This isn’t your business…”

Ren didn’t let him finish. Without a word, he grabbed your father by the shirt and effortlessly lifted him off the ground, holding him with one hand. Your father’s eyes widened in terror, the drunken fog clearing just enough to see who was standing in front of him. “Mr. [Redacted]!” Your father whimpered, his voice shaking. “Please! I didn’t mean any disrespect! I’ll pay back the money, I swear!”

Ren tossed him aside like he was nothing more than a nuisance, his cold eyes never leaving your father. “You disrespected me when you laid a hand on my angel,” Ren hissed, his voice low and dangerous. “If I ever see you even breathing the same air as my angel, I am afraid you won’t live long enough to regret it.”

Your father crumbled, falling to the ground as Ren released him with a final shove. He fell back against the wall, eyes wide, too terrified to move.

Ren turned to you then, his expression softening as he crouched down to meet your gaze. “Are you okay?”

You nodded, your chest aching from both the pain and the overwhelming sense of relief. “I… I think so.”

He reached out, offering his hand to help you up. “You’re not staying here,” Ren said firmly, glancing back at your father, who was still crumpled in a heap against the wall. “Let’s go.”

You hesitated for only a moment before nodding, your heart racing as you grabbed your bag and followed Ren out the door. As you stepped into the cool night air with him by your side, you realized that for the first time in a long while, you weren’t just surviving. You were escaping. And maybe, just maybe, you were finally free….Or entering a new cage. 

[talkbycolor]

dating life.

MC: Hey, wanna take a shower with me? Rendacted: I have a gun in that nightstand beside the bed. If I ever say no to that question, I want you to take it out and shot me because I’ve obviously gone crazy.