#I hope this isn't too long or confusing lol

[lordgolden]

hi I know shit is really bad right now but can I ask what the effects of the chevron decision will be

Hi! I'll try to explain it as thoroughly as I can so you can get a full understanding of the issue without getting too legal with it. Starting from the beginning - federal agencies are an arm of the executive branch; they're tasked with everyday enforcement and administration of federal laws. To make an agency, Congress passes a founding statute that delegates authority and tasks the agency with a broad mandate to regulate a certain thing. Obviously, Congress can't contemplate every single thing that that agency is going to have to regulate, right? So there's a lot of ambiguity regarding what exact agency power is and what they can do under their statute/s. Congress can pass laws to clarify ambiguity that give an agency more specific power, but we all know how dysfunctional Congress is.

Agencies promulgate rules and regulations under their statutory mandate and interpret ambiguous language in their statutes based on their technical expertise (ex: environmental scientists at the EPA). However, some of those rules get challenged in court by various groups who say that that agency doesn't have the power to regulate x. That's where the Chevron doctrine comes into play.

The case Chevron v. National Resources Defence Council from 1984, involved an advocacy group who challenged an interpretation of the term "stationary source," which the EPA redefined. The regulation had something to do with air pollution sources, and I can't even comprehend the complexities of all that went into that. Why, do you ask? Well, because I'm not an expert! And that is along the lines of what the court found - the judicial branch cannot substitute its authority for the technical expertise of agency officials.

The Court held that Congress implicitly delegates authority to agencies if not explicitly, and it is not the place of the judiciary to substitute their interpretation for that of experts. Other reasons included the fact that Congress is an elected, accountable body and the judiciary is not. This established 40 years of precedent that is a bedrock principle in administrative law and a doctrine called Chevron Deference. Under Chevron Deference, the courts had a very clear test: (1) Is the statutory provision ambiguous? and (2) Is that agencies interpretation reasonable/permissible?

The effect was that almost always, the judiciary deferred to an agencies interpretation except under limited circumstances. Since that has been overturned, it opens up so many agency rules and regulations to legal challenges. Now, judges get to decide whether THEY think the agency has authority and their interpretation is reasonable. The effect of that will be conservative justices in the federal judiciary will say "no, I don't think that's reasonable" to something they think is too liberal and ignore agency expertise on the issue.

Federal regulations touch every aspect of our lives - workplace safety, public health, student loan forgiveness, the environment, and essentially anything else you can think of. The Executive Branch relies on federal agencies to get anything done due to how polarized Congress is. Agencies are responsible for the day to day functions of our government. The effect is that allllll the rules and regulations that govern us can be challenged without deference to expertise. There is a lot of uncertainty in the realm of administrative law right now.

[enterpainment]

「 @universestreasures | Serena」 issued a challenge:  

Serena was a hard worker. Of her siblings, she pushes herself the most often and with the most incredible intensity. Her training were constant, usually taking place late at night following a long day of insufferable lessons or outings with her forced betrothed. By all means she should rest, but she can't afford to if she was to break free of this hell hole. One such evening, she finds herself sparing again with Yuri, who had become a constant in her training due to her father's interference. However, he did serve some use as a sparing partner and a person for her to vent out her frustrations to. If he has to stick around, might as well have a purpose. After once again managing to pin him to a wall, with sweat dripping down her face, Serena suddenly feels her body turn off. Seems like her exhaustion from the long day and hours of training had finally caught up to her, and her body fell unconscious right onto the retainer's suited form. (Nobles To Yuri. Let's see Yuri Disney Fastplay LMFAO)

On most nights Yuri didn't mind this. He quite enjoyed playing this game with her, actually; one where he could watch her face twist in frustration everytime she failed to put him down in a timely manner. He'd often throw her a bone, allowing her some advantage before turning it around on her in some way, shape or form. Mostly in the verbal sense as she was fairly easy to irritate. Unfortunately, to him at least, in their dynamic it was the only power he currently held over her.

Like this, stuck in this...skin suit, he'd call it, she could overpower him in the physical sense. But Yuri had ways to remind her that his word, and by proxy, the word of her father was far stronger than her will to run him through and be done with this obligation of hers.

But it would seem that tonight even Yuri was reaching his limit though, as evident of his movements starting to lack the usual enthusiasm he reserved for these sessions. He almost didn't even try when Serena caught him slacking--

The force of his back hitting the wall so suddenly was more than enough to rattle this frail form of his, much to his annoyance. Compared to his kin though; Yuri was not one to complain needlessly.

❝ ...This has gone on quite long enough, hasn't it? ❞

As much as Yuri would looooooooove to spend all his nights having the girl chase him around with her teeth bared, he was beginning to become irate with it. It was the same song and dance each night now, and it was starting to bore him. And honestly, he'd rather be tending to his propagation operations. The manor was all sorts of dull and stuffy, and it was solely on him to spruce the place up a bit using his talents. At this rate all the plants he had painstakingly nurtured thus far would dry out and die off before Serena would go to bed.

How funny it truly was though, the tables turning as they were.

That's when all the power behind her hold all but vanished, and soon enough the only thing keeping him against the wall now was the weight of Serena's body collapsed against his own.

Oh...

....Huh.

He was starting to think it wasn't going to work-- The thought tickled him in such a way a light chuckle escaped him as he moved an arm under her own to keep her from slipping out from him and onto the floor. Wouldn't want to wake her up now.

❝ That took a lot longer to build up in your system than I thought. ❞

Really, she should know better by now to think he'd play their game fairly.

Once he was sure he had secured his hold on her, he frees his other arm out from under her. He lifts a finger, revealing the perfectly manicured nail had been sharpened to a fine point. A quick glance and it was easy to miss how it had been the only one shaped in such a way, as if on purpose. It was then he brushes the loose strands of her ponytail aside to reveal the nape of her neck before lightly grazing the claw-like nail across her skin-- One of many thin scratches he had managed to tag her with over the course of their fight.

Dripping from the line he drew was a substance far too light in color to be blood... The beautiful pink hue was Yuri's own design, of course. A poison he had developed specifically for Serena and her recent problem.

She surely wouldn't take kindly to the idea of him poisoning her into taking a nap though, so he had kept it subtle by keeping the doses small and building it up over time.

And of course, this was by no means the poison he personally produced. He was still saving that one for the day Serena accepted his loyalty to her. This was just a simple sleep-aid derived from one of the many gardens he had helped to maintain in his time here. He's sure she'll come to appreciate the many things he brings to her table, but in the mean time he'll be sure to appreciate the silence the rest of the night should now bring.

After bestowing the last of his gift to his mistress he'll move to toss her unceremoniously up and over his shoulder. Had he not been her retainer this would make for a quite a scene, but considering his position and Serena's own nature he's sure no one would bother with them as he takes the long way back to her chambers. He had to check on all his precious little sprouts on the way, of course. It helped that the hour was so late though, fortunately for her there shouldn't be any in the halls to witness the scene anyway despite how entertaining it might've been.

❝ Take a nice long rest, princess. Your strikes were really rather weak today, I'll have to report as much to your father, you know? ❞ -

[kalashtars]

I Ranked All Of Fall Out Boy's Songs

Mostly all of them. It's the albums & EPs + bonus tracks from Believers 1 & 2. So, in total, 127 songs.

The spotify playlist version of this list is here (though it does not include Pavlove & Lullabye)

This was all based on personal love & taste and has nothing to do with how objectively good every song is.

Alright here we go (with the rest beyond the top 20 below the cut):

[dollgxtz]

His Watchful Eye Pt.8

Word Count: 23.4k

Tags: yandere!sylus, sylus x fem!reader, possession, mentions of pregnancy, forced pregnancy, mentions of breeding, attempted murder, mentions of murder, tw attempted car crash, manipulation, pet names like, kitten, sweetie, honey, Xavier appears, tw vomiting, mentions of blood, cramping, nausea, very plot heavy chapter wld recommend not skipping, its well worth the read!

Taglist: @ngh-ch-choso-ahhhh, @eliasxchocolate, @nozomiaj, @xmiisuki, @sylus-kitten, @its-regretti , @m0onlustre , @ve1vet-cake, @letgobro, @starkeysslvt, @yarafic, @prince-nikko, @leiaglmela @connorsui, @iluvmewwwww75, @biggest-geo-oogami-enjoyer, @mysssticc, @babygirl-panda19, @someone-somewheres-stuff, @zaynesjasmine1, @honnylemontea, @altariasu, @the-slytherin-poet, @sorryimakira, @pearlymel, @emidpsandia , @angel-jupiter, @hwangintakswifey, @webmvie, @housesortinghat, @fading-twinkle, @shoruio, @gojos1ut, @solomonlover, @cheesenjam, @elegantnightblaze

AN: Hi all! This is of course on A03! I totally forgot about my wisdom teeth removal surgery and therefore added a LOT more words to make up for it for the late upload. Also, readers symptoms are based on what a friend told me it was like for her so please be aware of that going in if you've been pregnant and don't find readers timeline aligning with your own. Its a lot different for everyone! (Plus considering Sylus isn't even human in the first place I doubt the pregnancy would be normal anyways lol). Anyways, please enjoy this chapter! /ᐠ > ˕ <マ ₊˚⊹♡

“No, I’m not pregnant,” you whimpered, shaking your head as tears started to spill down your cheeks. “I’m just sick…I'm just sick...” “Only one way to find out, honey,” he murmured, his voice soft, soothing. Like he was comforting a child. He could feel your fear, could see the way you were choking on the sobs that kept spilling from you. But there was no rush. He had all the time in the world.

Read Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4 Pt.5 Pt.6 Pt.7 Pt.9

Sylus sat on the couch, fingers drumming absently against the wood of the arm rest as he packed away files and data chips for the upcoming trip. The low hum of the N109 Zone’s endless night buzzed through the small cracks of the window, a constant, oppressive reminder of where he lived. But his mind wasn’t on the trip, not really. His thoughts kept circling back to you—you sitting on the bed, wrapped in a blanket, probably confused at the coldness he’d been showing you for days.

He had expected this. Of course, you would try to leave him. That’s what all this distance had been about—your inevitable attempt at escape again. It was frustrating, yes, but not surprising. You had been stubborn from the very beginning, always resisting, always challenging him. And in truth, that was part of what drew him to you. Your defiance. But the fact that you had actually gone through with it that night, tried to walk out on him... that cut deeper than he was willing to admit.

He had said too much. Far more than he should have in his drunken state. Words spilled out of him, cracking through the cold, calculated exterior he usually maintained. He had shown you something raw, something he didn’t even think he was capable of—vulnerability. And for a brief moment, he had hoped—foolishly, he knew—that his words had reached you. That, despite everything, you would see what he was offering. That maybe, just maybe, it had tugged at your heart enough to make you stay. To choose him over the open door, to choose him over the freedom you so desperately craved.

But, just as he expected, you made your choice. And it wasn’t him.

The sting of it gnawed at him, the rejection simmering under his skin. He had allowed himself to feel something he had long considered a weakness, let down his guard for just a fleeting moment, and you had turned your back on him. He had given you the chance to see him as something more than the cold, possessive figure he had been. And yet, you had gotten out of bed, chasing the illusion of freedom.

It wasn’t just that you had tried to leave—it was that you had chosen to leave him. That, even after all the effort he had put into controlling, guiding, and shaping you, you had slipped away. He had thought he could bend you to his will, that with time, you would see there was no life for you beyond him. But clearly, you still hadn’t learned.

This wasn’t over. It couldn’t be. You were his, even if you didn’t fully understand it yet. He saw something festering in your eyes. In your mind. You could run from your feelings, but Sylus knew better. You could try to escape, but in the end, you would come back. Either by choice or by force.

Either way, vulnerability was a mistake he wouldn’t repeat.

He told himself it was nothing, that your defiance was natural, a part of who you were. You just needed time. Time to understand, time to adjust. Time to realize that you were better off here, with him. You didn’t know it yet, but you needed him just as much as he needed you. Maybe more.

And forcing it? He had tried that. It didn’t work. The chain, the teasing, even the brief moments of affection, none of it had broken through yet. That was why he was ignoring you now, why he’d stopped giving you the attention he knew you craved, whether you admitted it or not. You had to come to him, and maybe a little distance would push you toward that realization. You just needed a little… push.

Sylus sighed, running a hand through his hair as he stood up, glancing toward the bed. He didn’t want to make things so cold between you two. It hurt him, too, to ignore you like this. Every time he saw you sitting there, doing something as simple as folding your clothes, his heart clenched. You didn’t even realize how cute you were, the way your face twisted in concentration as you neatly tucked each item away. The way you fumbled with the edge of your blanket, lost in thought, was enough to drive him mad.

Sometimes he’d catch himself watching you when you weren’t paying attention, your intricate fingers working on some small task, and he had to fight the urge to go over to you, to touch you, rip that nightgown off and hear those cute sounds you make as you squirm under him. There was something sweet, almost delicate, about the way you moved, unaware of how captivating you were.

But then, there was the chain. The damned chain.

His eyes darkened slightly as his gaze flickered toward the weight of that metal around your ankle. It bothered him more than it should have, seeing you restrained like that. It didn't suit you. It was large and imposing on your skin. He didn’t want you to feel trapped, at least not in a way that made you fear him. The chain was a necessity—for now. It was for your own good, to keep you safe, to keep you from running again. But the sight of it weighed on him, a small reminder of the lengths he had to go to keep you by his side. One day, you won’t need it, he promised himself.

One day, you’d stay because you wanted to. Right?

Sylus continued to gather the last of his belongings, his thoughts already on his impending return. The journey ahead was fraught with danger, much like the rest of his work. Business in the N109 Zone was never without risk, especially when it involved the kind of deals Sylus specialized in. The ones outside of it though...could be a little unpredictable. A new weapon had surfaced in the market, and with supply running low and demand soaring, things were bound to get chaotic. But Sylus had already secured his piece. Not because he needed it—no, it was merely bait. He had his eyes on a particular "fish," one that had been slipping through his fingers for weeks.

He had been keeping close tabs on your cycle, watching the days go by on the calendar. You had stopped bleeding while in captivity with Reese and now, it was just a matter of time. By the time he came back, he was sure his seed would take hold. That was why your recent "punishment" hadn't really been about discipline. It had simply been a means to ensure his seed was planted, without too much resistance. He knew you well enough by now. Had he hinted that you were ovulating, you would’ve fought, screamed, maybe even tried to hurt him—only to harm yourself in the process. Disguising it as punishment had been the simplest way to get you to comply.

He was well aware of your fear. He knew that if he pushed hard enough, you would obey. It wasn't what he truly wanted, but if playing mind games was what it took to reach the future he envisioned, so be it. Sylus was no stranger to playing the bad guy.

He would have everything he wanted by the time he got back—you by his side, in more ways than one. The thought of you swollen with his child, completely his, was enough to stir something dark and possessive inside him. He felt his cock slight stiffen at the thought, pooling almost desperate desires to have you under him one last time before he left. To ensure his seed would take.

Sylus moved quietly through the room, packing the last of his things into a sleek, black briefcase. His movements were slow, calculated, betraying nothing of the thoughts racing through his mind. He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, now curled up in bed, your form tense beneath the blanket. He could sense your unease, feel the anxiety radiating off of you even though you hadn’t said a word.

Cute.

A silent chuckle echoed in his mind as he noted the way you stiffened the moment he began to approach. You gasped, almost imperceptibly, and tensed like a rabbit sensing a predator. He wanted to close the space between you, to cup your face, trace his fingers along your skin, and feel the heat of your breath against him before he left for the trip. But he held back. No, he had to maintain the cold distance he’d imposed. It was for your own good.

But damn, it was hard. He wanted to mark you, to remind you that you were his—no matter how far he went. Still, there was something delicious about your reaction, the way your eyes widened as he stopped beside the bed.

Why was everything you did so adorable?

You sat up slightly, your gaze locking onto him, every muscle in your body tense. You were clearly waiting for him to say something, to finally break the silence that had lingered like a heavy fog between you for days. Instead, he reached down, his fingers brushing a stray lock of hair that was near your face. A piece of lint had gotten caught in it, likely from the laundry you’d folded earlier—one of the small, mundane tasks you’d taken to doing in your isolated state.

Sylus plucked the lint from your hair with an easy, almost gentle motion. It was such a simple, unassuming gesture, but it left you staring at him, taken aback. The look on your face was a mixture of confusion and something deeper, something Sylus could feel but couldn’t quite define. You were shocked by the touch, the sudden break in his cold routine. And then, before you could process it further, he turned his back on you, preparing to leave.

The silence was unbearable.

"Sylus..." Your voice broke through the quiet, trembling ever so slightly, and he felt something tighten in his chest. His back was still to you, but he could hear the frustration, the desperation lacing your words. "What's wrong with you?"

Your question hung in the air, and he felt his resolve waver for the briefest of moments. He wanted to turn around, to explain, to tell you that you hadn’t done anything wrong—that this distance, this coldness, was a game he hated just as much as you. But he couldn’t. Not yet.

"Stop playing your stupid games," you continued, your tone hardening as the frustration bled into anger. "You bring me back, chain me up again, just to ignore me? Asshole." There was venom in your voice, but it was laced with hurt, and Sylus could feel it.

A pang of guilt settled in his chest, but he pushed it down. You had tried to leave him, after all. He had expected it, even understood it, but that didn’t mean it hadn’t hurt. Still, he had to maintain control. She just needs a little more time. He sighed softly, his back still turned to you as he gathered his thoughts.

You weren’t done, though. "You leave me alone for days, barely say a word, and now you’re going on some mysterious trip like nothing’s wrong?" Your voice cracked just slightly, betraying the emotion you were trying to hide. "Why do you even bother keeping me here if you’re just going to act like I don’t exist?"

Sylus swallowed, his jaw tightening. He wanted to answer you, to give you some reassurance, but the distance was necessary. For both of you. And besides, he had seen that look in your eyes before—confusion, anger, frustration. You were close. Close to realizing that he was the only constant in this world, the only one who cared enough to keep you safe, even if you didn’t understand that yet.

"This may be the last time we talk, kitten," he said, his voice colder than he felt. It pained him to keep up the facade, but he forced himself to continue. "Why not be nice in our potential final moments together?"

The words were a joke—he wasn’t planning on dying, not anytime soon—but the way your face contorted in shock, the hurt that flashed in your eyes, made something twist deep inside him. It was cruel, yes, but it was part of the game. You had to see what life would be like without him, even if only for two weeks.

He turned slightly, just enough to catch the look on your face. You were staring at him, wide-eyed, stunned by the cold indifference in his words. Your lips parted as if you were going to say something, but the words seemed to catch in your throat. The silence that followed was heavy, suffocating.

What were you thinking? Were you hurt, confused, angry?

Sylus wanted to take it back. He wanted to tell you that he wasn’t going to die, that this was just another dangerous job, but it hurt him to say it. It hurt him to see you looking at him like that, but he couldn’t back down. He had to keep his distance. He had to let you come to him on your own terms.

But then, you broke the silence. "Well," you spat, your voice hardening again as the hurt morphed into anger, "at least if you die, it’ll be a lot easier getting away from this hellhole."

Sylus chuckled softly, though there was no real humor in it. He wasn’t surprised by your words—they were expected, even—but they stung nonetheless. He turned his back to you again, straightening his suit jacket as he prepared to leave.

"I’ve arranged for you to be fed three times a day," he said, his voice smooth and detached once more. "Mephisto will be keeping an eye on you while I’m gone. Any refusal to eat or bathe will be reported directly to me." He paused for a moment, letting the weight of his words settle over you. "And I wouldn’t want to hear about any attempts to run again, kitten."

"I'll be sure to take apart that stupid bird while you're gone" you spat, laying back down again.

He walked toward the door, his hand resting on the handle, ignoring your tantrum. He didn’t turn around, didn’t give you the chance to say anything more. This was the hardest part—leaving you like this, with so much unsaid. He could feel the turmoil radiating from you, the confusion and anger clashing with something deeper, something he knew you weren’t ready to admit to yourself yet.

But he had to wait. Forcing it hadn’t worked, and now, with the distance between you growing, you’d have time to think, to realize that you needed him as much as he needed you. He would return, and when he did, he hoped that the time apart would have made you see things more clearly.

Without another word, Sylus stepped through the door and left, the weight of your gaze burning into his back the entire time.

Sylus descended the staircase of his mansion, his steps silent, but his thoughts anything but. His mind, which had been lingering on you, now shifted to something else that had been gnawing at him for some time.

The boy from Linkon.

He had recently received reports of a disturbance at the shoe store—one of his covert fronts for an illegal drug operation. It was nothing major, just another petty interruption. But the details? They were unmistakable. A man had walked in wielding a sword, babbling about protocores, asking questions about the twins and a missing girl before escaping in a ball of searing light. His associates had been nearly blinded in the chaos. They hadn’t managed to catch the culprit, but Sylus didn’t need confirmation. He knew exactly who it was.

Xavier.

The name burned in his mind like a festering wound. Sylus had always known that dealing with Xavier would be no easy feat. The boy was reckless, persistent, and—most infuriatingly of all—he still loved you. And worse, you loved him back. Sylus could feel it in every interaction, every fleeting look you gave when you thought he wasn’t watching. It was in the way you hesitated sometimes, the way you still held back, despite everything. You may not have spoken Xavier’s name since Sylus had threatened his life, but that hope—that dangerous, foolish hope—still flickered inside you. The hope that Xavier would come bursting in like some white knight to rescue you from his place.

Like hell Sylus would let that happen.

The mere thought of it stirred something violent inside him. He had worked too hard, done too much, to let some delusional hunter ruin his plans. You were his, and no one else had any claim to you. Not Xavier, not anyone. And if the boy thought he could just sweep in and steal you away, he would quickly learn how wrong he was.

Sylus’s grip on the banister tightened as he reached the bottom of the stairs, his jaw clenched in cold resolve. The game with Xavier was nearing its end. Sylus would not allow this boy to remain a thorn in his side much longer. Xavier’s love for you made him reckless, vulnerable. He would exploit that, get rid of Xavier once for all. Sylus would ensure he never got the chance to try a second time.

As Sylus stepped off the last stair, Luke appeared from the kitchen, casually munching on an apple with his mask tilted up just enough to expose his mouth. The moment he spotted Sylus, his demeanor shifted entirely. Panic flashed across his face as he hastily yanked the mask back down to cover himself, the half-eaten apple forgotten as he tossed it into a nearby trashcan. He quickly straightened his posture, standing rigidly at attention.

“Er-boss! Everything’s packed for you!” Luke stammered, his voice betraying his nervousness. “I can take your suitcase as well!”

His gaze flickered nervously toward Sylus, clearly unsettled. He had seen that energy in Luke's posture before—fear, the kind that made men trip over their words and scramble to stay in his good graces. Luke's hands fidgeted at his sides as if unsure whether to reach for the suitcase or wait for further orders.

Sylus didn’t respond immediately, letting the silence stretch for a moment too long, just enough to make Luke sweat. His cold, calculating gaze swept over him, taking in every detail of the young man’s anxiety, before finally giving a subtle nod.

Sylus sighed, releasing the tight coil of tension that had built up in his body. There was no need for uncontrolled anger—at least, not yet. The pest would soon be dealt with, and once that distraction was removed, there would be nothing left to stand in the way of the future he envisioned. A future where everything fell perfectly into place.

“I have something to take care of first,” he said, his voice cool and deliberate, as if every word was a command in itself. “Make sure the chefs fully understand the strict instructions I gave about her meals while I’m away. Balanced nutrition. Have them repeat it back to you—every single detail.”

He paused for a moment, his gaze narrowing slightly as he fixed Luke with a look that could freeze blood. “I don’t want any mistakes.”

Without waiting for a reply, Sylus tossed the suitcase into Luke’s hands with casual indifference. Luke’s eyes widened as he scrambled to catch it, his fingers slipping momentarily on the leather handle. The weight of it nearly sent him teetering off balance, but he managed to steady himself, face flushed with embarrassment.

“Yes, boss! I’ll—uh—I’ll make sure of it!” Luke stammered, standing rigidly at attention, as if that might somehow erase his clumsy fumbling.

But Sylus had already turned away, his attention far beyond the room, far beyond Luke’s awkward attempts to regain his composure. His long strides took him toward the door with an air of certainty, as if the world itself bent to his will with every step.

Xavier. Xavier. Xavier.

The name echoed in his mind, an insistent drumbeat. He could feel the anger simmering beneath the surface again, but it was controlled—held in check by sheer force of will. Xavier. The boy had become more than a nuisance. He was a threat. A distraction that had lingered for too long. But that would soon change. Sylus had no intention of letting anything—or anyone—interfere with his plans.

Xavier had dared to love you, dared to think he could save you from the inevitable. The thought of it sent a dark thrill through Sylus’s chest. How naive. How foolish. Did Xavier truly believe he could stand between you and your rightful place at Sylus’s side?

Not a chance.

He would deal with Xavier swiftly, thoroughly. Once the boy was removed from the picture, there would be no more obstacles. No more fantasies of rescue. You would see things clearly, finally understand where you belonged. With him. Always with him.

As the door swung shut behind him, Sylus’s lips curled into a faint smile. Xavier had no idea what was coming. But Sylus did. He had planned for everything, anticipated every move. And soon, Xavier would be nothing more than a forgotten name. A foolish memory.

Nothing—absolutely nothing—would prevent Sylus from claiming the future he deserved. The future he would have with you.

Sylus had always been ten steps ahead. As soon as he had caught wind of Xavier’s desperate attempts to escape the N109 Zone, he had put his plan in motion. Word had spread quickly through the Zone's shadowy network—the kind of word that made people look over their shoulders and shut doors the moment they saw the boy approaching. No one dared to help him as the days passed. Not with the subtle but ever-present threat of Sylus looming over their heads. They knew what would happen if they defied him, and no one was foolish enough to test that.

Mephisto had been watching Xavier from the skies, tracking every move the boy made. It was almost pitiful, Sylus thought, how determined Xavier was, knocking on doors, pleading with anyone who would listen, trying to get someone—anyone—to process the SIM card he had found. The card that held all the damning evidence of what had happened in Reese’s basement. But it was futile. The boy had no idea why people turned him away with frightened eyes, why they avoided him as if he carried some curse.

Sylus felt a flicker of pity for him—how bewildering it must be for Xavier, seeing doors shut in his face, confusion mixing with anger as hope slowly bled out of him. But that pity was short-lived. Xavier had made his choice, and Sylus was about to make sure it was his last.

As Mephisto tracked Xavier’s latest movement, Sylus watched from the GPS feed in his jeep. The boy had finally given up on finding help within the N109 Zone. Likely desperate, he had chosen the hard way—going on foot, sword strapped to his chest, with nothing but determination keeping him moving. He was heading back to Linkon, likely hoping to catch some cell service once he left the Zone's signal-dead perimeter. It was a hopeless task, but Xavier didn’t know that. Not yet.

The boy was relentless, Sylus had to give him that. Mephisto’s feed showed Xavier’s ragged state—his clothes dusty, his eyes sunken with exhaustion. But he kept walking.

What a fool. Maybe he'd like some help.

Wasting no time, Sylus tracked him to his location and pulled up alongside the road in his sleek black jeep, eyes hidden behind a pair of sunglasses, his suit perfectly pressed despite the rough terrain. He brought the car to a slow roll as he neared Xavier, careful not to appear too eager.

He took in Xavier's disheveled appearance and stifled a laugh as he finally got a real life glimpse of the man you dared to call your lover. This was your knight in shining armor?

Xavier glanced over his shoulder at the approaching vehicle, his hand already gripping the hilt of his sword with wary blue eyes. Sylus could feel the boy's suspicion even through the tinted glass. He cracked the window, letting in the cold, arid air, and called out in an easy, practiced tone.

“Need a ride?” Sylus asked casually, his voice carrying the hint of a smile. “You look like you could use one.”

Xavier’s eyes narrowed, scanning the jeep and the man inside it. “And you are?” he asked, his voice rough, a mixture of caution and exhaustion. He didn’t let go of the sword, though it remained sheathed at his chest.

Sylus feigned mild surprise, raising an eyebrow as if the question had caught him off guard. “Just a passerby,” he said smoothly, adjusting the cuff of his suit sleeve. “I just got back from my daughter’s birthday dinner and thought I’d offer a lift. Figured you’d be tired of walking by now.”

Xavier’s suspicion deepened. His gaze flicked over Sylus’s clean hair, the well-tailored suit that seemed out of place in the desolate outskirts of the Zone. His grip on the sword tightened slightly, though he didn’t draw it. “You’re wearing a suit,” Xavier said, his voice dripping with distrust. “Why would you be all the way out here, wearing that?”

Sylus had anticipated the boy’s suspicion, but it didn’t faze him in the slightest. In fact, it was almost amusing. He had expected Xavier to be cautious, to scrutinize every word, every detail, but in the end, none of it really mattered. The boy wouldn’t figure out who he was—how could he? Sylus was an enigma, a shadow in the dark corners of the N109 Zone. His reputation may have spread like wildfire, but few had ever laid eyes on him. Not even a glance.

The genius of it all was that Sylus had made himself a ghost, a figure of whispered warnings and vague threats. His power rested not in his appearance but in his influence, his ability to control from a distance. To orchestrate chaos while remaining completely invisible. As far as Xavier knew, the man sitting behind the wheel of this sleek, black jeep could be anyone—just another passerby, another face in the crowd. That anonymity was what made Sylus dangerous.

So when Xavier narrowed his eyes, suspicion etched into every line of his face, Sylus remained perfectly calm, the faintest hint of amusement tugging at his lips. Let the boy wonder. Let him think. It wouldn’t change the outcome. Sylus always got what he wanted.

His fate was sealed.

Sylus smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. He let the silence stretch just long enough to feel heavy between them. “Like I said,” Sylus replied, his voice smooth as silk. “I just came back from my daughter’s party. The restaurant was out of town, and this is the route I take back home.”

Xavier didn’t move. His eyes bored into Sylus, searching for cracks in the façade. Sylus could almost hear the boy’s thoughts, could feel the way Xavier was picking apart every word, every detail. But Sylus was calm, unbothered. He had done this dance too many times. He could see the exhaustion in Xavier’s posture, the way his legs trembled with fatigue, the faint glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, this stranger could help him get out of the Zone.

But the distrust remained. The boy wasn’t stupid. He wouldn’t be easy to trick.

“You look too calm,” Xavier said finally, the edge of accusation in his voice. “No one from around here is that calm...or helpful.”

Sylus chuckled softly, as if the remark amused him. “I’ve lived in the N109 Zone for a long time,” he said, shrugging lightly. “You get used to the chaos after a while.”

Xavier’s eyes flickered with indecision. His instincts were telling him something was off, but the exhaustion in his limbs and the desperation gnawing at his mind were wearing him down. Sylus watched, a faint smile tugging at his lips as the boy’s resolve wavered. It was only a matter of time.

“You sure you don’t want a ride?” Sylus asked, leaning back in his seat. “The next town’s pretty far. It’s a long walk—especially on foot.”

For a moment, Xavier just stared at him, his brow furrowed, lips pressed into a thin line. He knew something was wrong—Sylus could see it in his eyes. But fatigue was a powerful weapon, and Sylus knew just how to wield it.

The silence stretched on, thick with tension, as the two men sized each other up—one desperately looking for a way out, the other calmly calculating the exact moment to strike.

“No thanks,” Xavier muttered, his voice curt as he adjusted the strap of his sword and continued his walk past the car, not bothering to look back.

Sylus’s jaw tightened, a flicker of irritation flashing across his otherwise calm demeanor. The boy wasn’t just persistent—he wasn’t stupid either. It was becoming clear that Xavier’s survival instincts were sharper than he had anticipated. Fine, two could play at that game. Sylus needed the boy in the car, and he wasn’t about to let his plan slip through his fingers over something as trivial as Xavier’s mistrust.

Without a word, Sylus reached over, twisting the keys in the ignition until the engine went silent. The mechanical purr of the jeep ceased, leaving only the sound of the wind rustling through the desolate landscape. He opened the door and stepped out, calling after Xavier before the boy could get too far.

“Wait,” Sylus said, his voice carrying with a casual ease that belied his annoyance. Xavier slowed, turning halfway to glance back, eyes narrowed in suspicion. Sylus could sense the boy’s reluctance, the wariness etched in his every movement.

With a nonchalant flick of his wrist, Sylus tossed the car keys in Xavier’s direction. They spun in the air before landing in Xavier’s open palm, the boy catching them reflexively but frowning down at the unexpected gesture.

“How about this,” Sylus said smoothly, his tone relaxed, as though they were discussing something as simple as the weather. “You drive yourself to your destination, and I’ll drive myself back. No strings attached. Sound fair?”

Sylus knew Xavier couldn't refuse such an offer, and even if he wanted to, his love for you was more important to him than his own safety.

He would take the bait.

Xavier’s brow furrowed as he stared down at the keys, then back up at Sylus, who had already moved around the vehicle to the passenger side. The offer, on the surface, seemed absurd. What kind of stranger would be so willing to give up control of his own car to a random traveler on the side of the road? And yet, there Sylus stood, casually opening the passenger door as if they had made some mutual agreement. The ease with which Sylus handed over the keys was unnerving.

Xavier’s instincts screamed at him to keep walking, to leave this strange man and his too-kind offer behind. Something about this whole encounter was off—way off. But there was another part of him, the exhausted, desperate part, that couldn’t ignore the fact that his journey to Linkon was still painfully far from over. He had been walking for hours, pushing himself past the point of exhaustion, and the weight of the sword on his chest felt heavier with each step. He couldn’t shake the urgency pounding in his chest. He needed to get back to Linkon, and fast.

The SIM card tucked away in his pocket was his only lifeline. Without it, any hope of uncovering the truth of what happened in Reese’s basement would be lost. He needed to see it. But the odds of finding anyone out here who could process it? Slim to none. He was running out of time, and every step he took on foot made him feel like the distance between him and his goal was growing wider.

His eyes flicked back to the car keys in his hand, their weight oddly unsettling. Why was this man so eager to help? And why the hell was he offering the keys to his own car?

Xavier’s gaze darted back to Sylus, who had settled into the passenger seat without a trace of concern, leaning back as if this was the most normal thing in the world. His expression was calm, almost too calm, as though the outcome had already been decided in his favor. It unnerved Xavier. This man—this stranger—was too willing. Too casual. Too smooth.

But Xavier didn’t have time to figure it all out. His priority was clear: getting back to Linkon, getting the SIM card processed, and making sure the truth came to light of what happened to you. Without transportation, he could be walking for days, and every minute he spent out here increased the risk that he'd never find you.

The keys felt heavier now, the weight of the decision pressing on him. He didn’t trust this man, not by a long shot. But the idea of having control of the car, of being the one behind the wheel… it was tempting. Too tempting. If he was driving, there's no way this could be a trap right?

It would be fine. Yes. Anything for you. Even if it meant putting himself in danger.

With one last glance at the man, who was patiently waiting in the passenger seat, Xavier’s grip on the keys tightened. He didn’t say a word as he took a tentative step toward the driver’s side. Every instinct told him to keep walking, to leave this stranger behind and take his chances on foot. But exhaustion and desperation were powerful motivators, and right now, he needed to get back to Linkon more than he needed to figure out why this man was offering help.

Xavier climbed into the driver’s seat, the worn leather creaking beneath him as he adjusted to the unfamiliar space. His hand hovered over the ignition, eyes still darting toward Sylus, who sat quietly beside him, a faint smile playing at the corners of his lips.

“Take us wherever you need to go,” Sylus said softly, his voice like velvet, as though the game had already begun. “I’m just along for the ride.”

The tension between them was palpable, thick in the confined space of the car. Xavier could feel it in the air, in the way Sylus’s gaze lingered on him, calm but unrelenting. He knew this wasn’t right—none of it was. But he was too far in to back out now.

With a sharp turn of the key, the engine roared to life, and Xavier gripped the steering wheel, feeling the weight of every decision he had made in the last few minutes. The road ahead seemed endless, and as the car pulled away from the desolate stretch of highway, he couldn’t help but glance sideways at the man again.

This...this could end badly.

The two men sat in crushing silence as Xavier navigated the unfamiliar roads, the hum of the engine the only sound between them. Each mile passed with a suffocating weight, the tension in the car palpable, like a storm ready to break. Xavier kept his eyes locked on the road ahead, hands gripping the wheel tighter than necessary, his knuckles pale under the strain. He hadn’t wanted this stranger to know where he lived, so he punched City Hall into the GPS instead. From there, he could make his way around Linkon without anyone trailing him. He needed to get the SIM card processed, and fast, before time ran out.

Every few minutes, he fiddled with the GPS, his body coiled with a mix of exhaustion and adrenaline. He could feel the man's eyes on him, his name still unknown, even despite the sunglasses. He hadn’t said much since they set off, but his presence in the passenger seat was unnerving. His calm was unnatural, unsettling. He didn’t fidget, didn’t speak, didn’t even glance around the car. He just sat there, arms crossed, studying Xavier with a level of intensity that felt out of place for someone offering a simple ride.

Xavier tried to sneak glances at the man beside him, but every time he did, he found the mans gaze already on him, sharp and unblinking, as though he had anticipated Xavier’s every move. The man’s lips twitched with something like amusement, though he didn’t say a word.

What’s his deal? Xavier thought, forcing his eyes back to the road. The whole situation felt wrong. He had expected tension in the N109 Zone, but not this. This was different. The man beside him wasn’t just casually observing him—he was waiting for something. Every second that passed felt heavier than the last, like time itself was stretching, tightening the knot of anxiety building in Xavier’s chest.

Still, Xavier didn’t let any of it show. He had learned long ago how to hide his fear, how to stay calm when every nerve in his body screamed at him to run. He’d dealt with dangerous people before, people who could smell weakness like blood in the water. He wasn’t about to let this guy see that. But the silence between them was unbearable, thick with the weight of unspoken things.

Finally, Xavier broke it, his voice low and careful. “I didn’t get your name…” He asked, eyes darting between the GPS and the road, trying to sound casual, though he was anything but.

The man took a moment to respond, as though he were weighing the question, wondering if he should even answer it. His eyes flickered with a hint of something—amusement, perhaps. Or something darker.

“Skye,” he said eventually, his voice smooth, detached. He crossed his arms, leaning back in the passenger seat, as though the conversation were nothing more than a formality. “And you are…?”

Xavier’s heart kicked up a notch, but he kept his expression neutral. No way was he giving this guy his real name. “Anthony,” he lied easily, the false name slipping out without hesitation. His voice didn’t waver, his hands stayed steady on the wheel. But he could feel Skye watching him, a slight smirk pulling at his lips.

He knows I’m lying, Xavier thought, his gut twisting with unease. But Skye didn’t press. He didn’t even seem surprised. He just watched Xavier with that unnerving calm, as if the lie were nothing more than an expected move in a game they were both playing.

“Anthony,” Skye repeated softly, his tone almost mocking, though he didn’t push the issue. Instead, he let the silence fall between them again, a silence that felt even heavier now. He seemed content to let Xavier stew in it, the tension building with every second that passed.

Xavier’s eyes flicked back to the road, his mind racing. Something about this guy was all wrong. The way he moved, the way he spoke—it was all too calculated, too smooth. People didn’t act this calm in the N109 Zone, not unless they knew something everyone else didn’t. And Skye definitely knew something. The question was, what? And how much?

Xavier kept his gaze focused ahead, trying to ignore the weight of Skye’s eyes still on him. The man hadn’t looked away once. He could feel it, the silent scrutiny, the way Skye seemed to be measuring him. Assessing him.

“Where are you headed?” Skye asked casually, his voice cutting through the silence once more, though there was nothing casual about the way he said it.

Xavier didn’t miss a beat. “City Hall,” he answered, a little too quickly. He glanced at the GPS, as if confirming the destination would make the lie feel more real. He wasn’t taking this man to his home—no way. Not with the way things were already playing out.

Skye raised an eyebrow, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “City Hall,” he repeated, his tone light but laced with something that made Xavier’s skin crawl. “Not a bad place to end up, but pretty unusual for a first destination."

Xavier’s pulse kicked up, but he kept his face neutral, refusing to look over at Skye. Something in the man’s tone made his stomach tighten, like a hook had just been baited and dropped in front of him, waiting for him to take it.

Unusual? Why the hell would that be unusual? The thought ran through his mind, but he forced himself to stay calm. His plan had been simple—get to City Hall, lose this guy, and handle his business. But now, it felt like every move was being scrutinized, every choice questioned.

“City Hall's the easiest place to get a read on things in the city,” Xavier replied, his voice steady, though the defensiveness crept in at the edges. “I need to handle some things, and it’s central. Easier to move around from there.”

He could feel Skye’s eyes still on him, could almost hear the smirk in his voice when the man chuckled softly. It was the kind of laugh that got under your skin, not because it was loud, but because it carried a quiet, unsettling amusement.

“Smart,” Skye said slowly, nodding as if Xavier’s explanation made perfect sense. But something in his tone felt off, like he didn’t fully buy it. “But still… after some time in the N109 Zone, you’d think you’d want to rest somewhere less… official. Get off the radar. A nice bed, maybe.”

Xavier tightened his grip on the steering wheel, feeling the weight of Skye’s persistent questioning pressing down on him. Each word from Skye was like a carefully placed needle, poking at his decisions, making him second-guess everything. He hadn’t expected the guy to be so relentless, and the pressure was building with every exchange.

“I’ve got some stuff to take care of,” Xavier said, trying to keep his voice steady, casual, but the tension in his body betrayed him. “Time’s running out to save her, so I can’t waste a single second.”

The moment the words left his mouth, doubt flickered in his mind. Was that too much? Too rushed? The urgency in his voice—had it come across as desperate? Or worse, suspicious? His heart hammered in his chest as he mentally replayed what he had said, wondering if he had tipped his hand. Or had he been too vague? The ambiguity of his answer might have made Skye even more curious, pushing him to dig deeper, ask more questions.

Xavier kept his eyes on the road, refusing to look over at Skye, but he could feel the man watching him, studying him. The silence that followed his response was unnerving, stretching long enough for Xavier to feel like he’d made a mistake. He fought the urge to glance over, to see if Skye’s expression had changed, but his instincts screamed at him to stay composed. Any sign of weakness now, and Skye would pounce on it.

Too much, Xavier thought, cursing himself internally. I shouldn’t have let the urgency show.

Skye’s sudden shift in demeanor caught Xavier off guard. The icy coldness that had made the air feel suffocating was replaced with something else—something that felt even more dangerous. Concern. Pity. It dripped from Skye’s voice like honey, smooth and deliberate, but just artificial enough to send a ripple of unease through Xavier’s chest.

“Oh?” Skye said, his voice almost soft, a note of worry creeping in. “Seems serious.”

Xavier’s breath hitched slightly, his guard wavering for just a moment. He wasn’t prepared for this shift. The relentless scrutiny, the probing questions—he could handle that to a point. But this? This sudden turn toward sympathy, as fake as it felt, was a punch to the gut.

“It is,” Xavier muttered, his voice betraying the strain he was under. The words felt heavier than he intended, a sign of the cracks forming in his defenses.

Skye shifted slightly in his seat, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly as if he sensed something in Xavier’s voice. “You know,” he began, his tone deceptively gentle, “I understand what it’s like. When you want something so bad. And its almost in reach, yet so far. You feel like you've failed already."

The words struck hard, like a knife twisting in Xavier’s gut. For a brief moment, his mind went blank, the weight of Skye’s words sinking into him. The man’s voice, though still edged with that unsettling calm, carried a truth Xavier couldn’t deny.

Skye had unknowingly—or perhaps very knowingly—touched a raw nerve.

Xavier’s fingers flexed against the steering wheel, his heart thudding heavily in his chest. He tried to block it out, tried to keep his walls up, but he couldn’t stop the flood of emotion that came crashing through. His breaths quickened slightly, the tension in his body shifting from vigilance to something more raw, more vulnerable.

Skye was quiet, but Xavier could feel him waiting, giving him just enough space to fill the silence. His mind screamed at him to stay quiet, to shut it all down, but the pressure building inside him was too much to contain.

“I…” Xavier’s voice cracked, his throat dry. His hands trembled slightly as the words formed on his tongue. “I have someone waiting for me. She’s in danger. And I feel like I’m failing her with each passing second.”

The admission came out before he could stop it, the weight of his guilt and fear spilling into the space between them. He’d been holding it in for so long, running from one obstacle to the next, always trying to keep moving, to keep fighting. But now, in this moment, it all felt too heavy to carry alone. The pressure of failing you—of not getting back in time—had gnawed at him relentlessly, and now, it was too much to keep inside.

For a moment, the silence was deafening, his vulnerability hanging in the air like a fragile thread.

Xavier’s chest tightened, panic seeping in as the reality of what he’d just said hit him. He’d let his guard down—completely. He’d shown Skye more than he ever intended, more than anyone should know. He could feel the walls he’d carefully built crumbling around him.

And Skye was still watching, listening, absorbing every word.

He shifted slightly, his voice lowering, becoming softer, almost understanding. “You know,” he began, choosing his words carefully, “I’ve seen it before… that look in your eyes. Like you’re carrying something too heavy for one person. Trying to fix it all yourself. You can push as hard as you want, but…” He paused, letting the silence settle for just a beat before he continued, “the weight of failure starts to crush you, doesn’t it?”

Skye glanced out the window, his tone still calm, still smooth. “And the worst part? It’s when you realize that maybe, no matter how much you fight, you won’t get there in time. That you might be too late to save the people who need you.”

Xavier’s breath caught in his throat. He hadn’t expected much from this man—this stranger who seemed so out of place on these roads—but this? He had expected more questions, more veiled curiosity, maybe even some vague attempt at comfort. But what Skye had just said—those words, that insinuation—hit him like a punch to the gut.

The casual mention of failure. The suggestion that he was already too late. Was this guy trying to be an asshole?

Xavier’s chest tightened, his pulse quickening as the words churned in his mind, cutting deeper than he wanted to admit. “No,” Xavier said, his voice shaking slightly, the denial rising like a defense against the weight of Skye’s statement. “That’s not true. It’s not too late. I can still find her. I just—” He cut himself off, his voice thick with desperation.

But before he could even finish the thought, Skye’s demeanor changed in an instant. The false pity drained from his face, replaced by something far colder, sharper. His voice dropped, his tone void of the faint warmth that had laced it earlier.

“People like you should know when to quit.” The words were flat, cutting like ice. Skye lowered his sunglasses, his eyes gleamed with a new cruelty, his expression as still as stone. “It’s a shame you even tried in the first place.”

Xavier, caught slightly off guard by the crimson color of the eyes now boring into him, opened his mouth to argue, the frustration boiling over. How dare this guy—

But then something hit him, something beyond words. A creeping cold, seeping into his skin. At first, it felt like a mist settling over him, faint and barely noticeable, but it spread quickly, a numbing chill that slithered through his body, wrapping around his limbs like an invisible fog. His chest tightened as panic started to rise.

The cold red mist crept up his neck, stretching outward, reaching his arms, his fingers. And then—nothing. No feeling. His hands. He couldn’t feel his hands.

Xavier’s heart raced, his breath coming in short, frantic bursts as he looked down at the steering wheel. His hands were still there, gripping the wheel tightly, but the sensation was gone. His fingers felt as though they no longer existed, and worse, he couldn’t move them. He tried to force his body to respond, to shake off the creeping cold, but it was as if his muscles had turned to stone.

The steering wheel suddenly turned under his grip, and the car began to drift. Panic surged through him. He tried to shout, tried to move, but his body refused to obey. The cold mist had taken control, and now it stretched through every inch of him, locking him in place, paralyzing him completely.

This wasn't him moving it.

What the hell is happening?!

He wanted to scream, to fight, but his limbs remained useless, his mind screaming in terror as the car veered off its course. He couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe properly, and then it hit him—this was him. Skye. Skye was doing this.

Skye hadn’t moved from the passenger seat, but the aura around him had darkened, the shift in his demeanor unmistakable. The cold that gripped Xavier’s body—this mist—was him. And this wasn’t some accident. This was planned.

Skye had been waiting for this moment.

Xavier’s mind raced as the reality sank in, dread curling in his gut like a beast ready to devour him whole. He could see it in the cold gleam of Skye’s eyes now, the man having removed his sunglasses completely. The man had never intended for this to end peacefully.

He tried one last time to move, to will his body to do anything, but the cold mist had stolen everything from him.

Skye leaned in slightly, his presence looming over Xavier like a shadow, cold and unrelenting. His tone dropped, devoid of any warmth or pretense. “Don't bother fighting. I’ve already decided how this ends.”

The car was fully off the road now, speeding, barreling toward a tall tree. Xavier’s mind screamed, the terror paralyzing his thoughts. He was about to be made into a casualty, another statistic—a crash that would look like an accident, neat and tidy. He couldn't even shut his eyes to brace for the inevitable impact.

Closer. And closer. And-

Xavier's phone ringing cut through the chaos, snapping both men's attention.

The sudden, shrill sound sliced through the thick tension in the car, jarring Xavier out of his rising panic. The ringtone echoed in the confined space, pulling his attention away from the tree, from the creeping red mist that had taken over his body. The sound was so out of place, so normal amidst the terror, that for a moment, it didn’t seem real.

It must've caught signal again.

Skye’s eyes flicked toward the phone, his expression unreadable, but Xavier saw the faintest twitch of something—something like interest or annoyance—cross his face. The car suddenly veered back on course as if it was not just about to plunge into a tree, dooming its driver.

The phone continued to ring, vibrating against the dash, relentless.

For a brief second, the pressure on Xavier’s hands loosened, the grip Sylus had on him flickering, just enough for Xavier to feel the tiniest bit of control return. It wasn’t much—he still couldn’t move fully—but it was enough to know that the phone had interrupted something, that it had momentarily disrupted Skye’s hold.

Skye’s gaze darkened, his calm demeanor slipping ever so slightly, his eyes narrowing at the sudden disruption. The mist that had coiled around Xavier’s body seemed to pause, just for a moment, as if Sylus was reconsidering. Calculating something.

The phone kept ringing.

Xavier’s heart pounded, a mix of hope and fear swirling inside him. He looked down at the contact name.

Captain Jenna

His phone had stopped the inevitable, if only for a moment. His eyes darted toward the screen, the bright contact photo lighting up the car. This was his lifeline, the only thing keeping Sylus from finishing what he had started.

Skye’s lips curved into a tight smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Duty never stops for Linkon's best hunters hm?”

His voice was low, almost mocking, but there was something behind it, a flicker of curiosity, as though the phone call had shifted something in his mind. Sylus’s hold on Xavier wasn’t entirely broken, but the red mist began to recede ever so slightly, its grip loosening as Sylus seemed to consider his next move.

For a moment, it felt like the world had stopped, hanging on the precipice of whatever decision Skye was about to make. The phone rang again, insistent, demanding attention.

Skye leaned back slightly, his cold demeanor returning, but with a spark of something else. “Maybe,” he grinned, almost to himself, “I should let the other person on the line hear your screams before your imminent death?"

The mist, which had been suffocating Xavier moments before, suddenly retracted, slithering away like a serpent disappearing into the shadows. The sensation returned to his limbs, though weak and shaky. His hands were his own again, but Xavier couldn’t bring himself to move.

Skye eyes gleamed with amusement as he watched Xavier’s shock and confusion, the boy still frozen in the driver’s seat. “Answer it,” Skye said softly, a quiet command, but with an underlying threat. “Let’s see what she has to say.”

Xavier’s hand trembled as he reached for the phone, still feeling the lingering numbness from the mist that had wrapped around him moments before. His heart was pounding, but he forced himself to answer, trying to regain control, trying to steady his breathing. His mind raced as he glanced nervously at Skye, whose amused smirk remained firmly in place.

“Hello?” Xavier managed to get out, his voice shaky but improving.

“Xavier?” Captain Jenna’s voice crackled through the speaker, filled with a mix of relief and frustration. “Where exactly have you been? No one’s been able to contact you! You can’t just go off and disappear like that for days and days on end!”

Xavier winced at the urgency in her tone. She had always been direct, never wasting time sugarcoating things. He could hear the worry layered underneath her sternness, and for a moment, a wave of guilt hit him. He had been so focused on his mission, on everything happening in the N109 Zone, that he hadn’t even thought about how it might look to his colleagues.

“I…I’m sorry,” Xavier said, shooting a quick glance at Skye, who raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “Something came up that I had to take care of. I didn’t mean to disappear.” His eyes darted back to the road, the weight of Skye’s gaze still heavy on him. He kept his tone measured, trying to sound calm. “I’m on my way back now.”

There was a pause on the other end, followed by a deep sigh from Captain Jenna. “Regardless, I’m glad you’re safe. We need you for an operation in—”

Xavier’s heart raced. He couldn’t let Skye overhear anything about the association, about their secrets or what was going on back at headquarters. Whatever this man—this monster—was after, it wasn’t something he could afford to share.

Before Captain Jenna could continue, Xavier cut her off, his voice a bit too sharp in his haste. “You can explain everything when I get there,” he said, trying to keep his tone casual but failing to mask the underlying urgency. “I’m almost there.”

There was a brief silence on the other end, and for a moment, Xavier worried he might have raised her suspicion, but Captain Jenna eventually replied, her voice softer. “Alright. Just get back safe. We’ll talk soon. We also need to talk about your...partner”

Xavier gulped at the mention of you, but simply exhaled slowly as the call ended, his hand lowering the phone from his ear, feeling the intensity of the moment crashing down around him. He didn’t dare look at Skye just yet, trying to collect his thoughts, trying to figure out what his next move would be.

When he finally glanced over, Skye was leaning back in his seat, arms crossed, his expression calm but with an unmistakable glint of amusement in his eyes.

“Well,” Skye said, the smirk deepening, “it seems like you’ve been keeping busy.”

Xavier felt the weight of the man’s words, the way they lingered in the air like a challenge. Skye knew more than he was letting on, but he wasn’t pressing—for now. It was as if he were waiting, watching, enjoying the little puzzle Xavier presented.

But Xavier wasn’t about to give him any more pieces. He’d already said too much. This guy wanted something from him, something to do with the Hunter's Association. Why else would he target Xavier?

“I don’t know what you want from me,” Xavier began, forcing his voice to sound steadier than he felt, “but I can promise you I don't have it. If you're after the associations secrets, killing me wont get you any closer".

He forced himself to meet Skye’s gaze, trying to hold onto whatever composure he could muster. But the way Skye looked at him, with those unreadable eyes, made it impossible to know whether his words were even having an effect. His tone had been sharp, maybe too sharp, but he couldn’t afford to show weakness now. Not with someone like him.

For a moment, the air in the car grew even heavier. Skye’s expression barely shifted, but Xavier caught the brief flicker in his eyes—was it intrigue? Curiosity? Or was there something darker lurking just beneath the surface? Xavier couldn’t tell. It was like staring into the depths of an ocean (a very red one at that), unsure of what might lie beneath the calm.

Skye didn’t respond right away. His gaze remained steady, almost too calm, as if he were savoring the tension, letting it stretch between them like a taut string ready to snap. Xavier’s stomach twisted, his mind racing with possibilities—was Skye sizing him up, or just toying with him? It was impossible to know.

After what felt like an eternity, Skye tilted his head slightly, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Who said I wanted the association’s secrets?”

The words sent a chill through Xavier. The way Skye said it—so casually, as if the association wasn’t even part of the equation—left Xavier feeling more vulnerable than before. Skye had just dismissed his entire assumption without a second thought. If he wasn’t after the association’s secrets, then what was he really after?

Xavier’s pulse quickened, his mind scrambling to keep up. If Skye wasn’t interested in the association, what could he possibly want from him? And worse—why was he keeping him alive?

Skye leaned back in the passenger seat, his amusement clear now. “You think too small, Xavier,” he said, his voice smooth and unhurried, as though they were simply having a conversation. “I don’t need to kill you for information. That’s too… crude.”

Xavier’s heart pounded in his chest, the rhythm wild and erratic, but he kept his face neutral, refusing to let the panic show. His mind raced, trying to grasp what had just happened. Skye had called him by his real name. And Xavier was sure—positive—he had introduced himself as Anthony. But Skye hadn’t hesitated. He knew.

“How do you know my name?” Xavier asked, keeping his voice steady, though inside, the tension coiled tighter. His thoughts were a blur, his instincts screaming at him that something was very, very wrong.

Skye tilted his head slightly, a small smirk playing on his lips, as if Xavier had just said something amusing. “What do you mean?” Skye replied, his tone light, almost playful. He leaned back, eyes gleaming with quiet amusement. “Didn’t your captain just call you Xavier?”

Xavier blinked, momentarily thrown off balance. His mind scrambled, piecing together the conversation, and then it hit him. Of course. The phone call. His captain had said his name during the call. Skye had been listening the entire time. Idiot. He mentally slapped himself, feeling foolish for even asking the question.

He sighed, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. He was losing control of the situation, and the casual way Skye was toying with him only made it worse. But Xavier couldn’t afford to get rattled now—not when his life was hanging by a thread.

“What do you want?” Xavier asked, his voice quieter now, more measured. He could feel the weight of Skye’s gaze on him, sharp and calculating. “What do you want in return for my life if not information on the Hunter's Association?”

Skye chuckled softly, the sound light but dripping with malice. He looked out the window for a brief moment, as if pondering the question, then slowly turned back to Xavier, his smile deepening. “I don’t usually make deals where I don’t get more of a benefit.”

Xavier swallowed hard, his heart racing faster, though he kept his face expressionless. He didn’t respond—he was waiting, watching Skye carefully. The man’s words were a game, just like everything else he’d said. Xavier knew there had to be more, some twist, some condition that hadn’t been revealed yet.

Skye leaned forward slightly, his eyes gleaming with dark amusement. “However…” He paused, as if savoring the moment, watching Xavier closely. “I've realized you're much more useful to me alive than dead. If you stay away from the N109 Zone—and everyone in it—you’ll live.”

Xavier’s breath caught in his throat, the weight of the ultimatum settling over him. Stay away from the Zone. That meant cutting ties with everything he’d worked to find, abandoning the hope of finding you, abandoning you. Could he even afford to do that? Would agreeing with this deal mean he'd never get the chance to see you again?

Also how was he useful to Skye?

"And if not..."

Skye’s smirk widened, sensing the internal struggle playing out behind Xavier’s calm facade. He leaned in closer, invading Xavier’s personal space, his presence suffocating. Xavier instinctively tried to pull back, but there was nowhere to go—the car’s cabin suddenly felt too small, too enclosed.

“Lets just say I don't really give second chances,” Sylus whispered, his voice low, dripping with menace.

Xavier swallowed hard, his body tensing, but he forced himself to maintain eye contact, even as the urge to run surged through him. Skye was too close, too calm, too dangerous. The warning wasn’t just a threat—it was a guarantee. Sylus had already proven what he was capable of, and Xavier knew that crossing him again would mean death, or worse.

The silence in the car was heavy, suffocating, as Skye leaned back again, his smile never fading, his eyes never leaving Xavier.

“So,” Skye said, his voice almost casual now, as if they were discussing something far less deadly. “What’s it going to be?”

Xavier’s heart pounded in his chest as Skye’s words echoed in his mind. Stay away from the N109 Zone—and everyone in it? The weight of the ultimatum pressed down on him, suffocating. He didn’t want to abandon the N109 Zone, and even more than that, he couldn’t abandon you. The thought of leaving you behind gnawed at him, the sharp pain of longing cutting through him like a blade.

He closed his eyes for a moment, imagining your face—how much he longed to see you again, to hold you, to feel your warmth. It had been too long since he’d last heard your voice, since he’d last felt any sense of peace. But now, this? This deal with a devil, this impossible choice?

Xavier wasn’t sure why Skye was so insistent on keeping him away from the N109 Zone. Maybe it had something to do with his work as a hunter—his job was to take down people like Skye, after all. But that didn’t matter. What mattered now was survival. Because if he didn’t agree, if he didn’t concede right here and now, Skye might just kill him on the spot.

And then who would save you?

The thought gripped him like a vice, twisting his insides. No. He couldn’t let that happen. If he died here, there would be no one left to protect you. No one left to pull you out of whatever darkness was festering over the N109 Zone. He had to live, for you.

Xavier took a slow, deliberate breath, forcing the words out, even as they weighed heavy on his soul. “Fine,” he said, his voice low, barely more than a whisper. “I agree. I’ll stay away from it.”

Skye’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction, the faintest smile curling at the edges of his lips. He nodded, his demeanor cooling instantly, the menacing presence he’d exuded just moments ago receding into something more neutral. “Good,” Skye said, his voice soft but still holding that dangerous undertone. “I knew you’d see reason.”

The tension in the car seemed to shift, though the air was still thick with the unspoken threat that hung between them. Skye leaned back in his seat, his posture relaxed now, as if the deal had wiped away any lingering tension. Skye was certainly dangerous, but seemed to be a man of his word at least.

Xavier forced himself to nod, though the weight of the decision felt like it was crushing him. I’ll find a way, he told himself, his mind racing. Skye’s only one guy. He can’t keep me out of there forever, right? There had to be a way back in. A way to find you. He couldn’t—wouldn’t—abandon you.

The rest of the drive passed in silence, the tension still hanging in the air but now subdued, like a coiled snake waiting for the right moment to strike. Xavier’s thoughts churned, his mind battling with itself as the distant lights of the city began to appear on the horizon. The rising sun painted the sky with hues of orange and pink, and for the first time in what felt like forever, Xavier saw the light breaking through the darkness.

He closed his eyes for a moment, letting the warmth of the sun brush against his skin. How long has it been? Too long. He had missed the sun. He had missed the light, the feeling of something familiar, something safe. But most of all, he missed you.

But this wasn’t the end. Skye was only one man. He couldn’t keep Xavier away from the N109 Zone forever. Xavier would find a way back—he had to. He wouldn’t rest until he found you, until he knew you were safe. And once he did, Skye would regret ever making this deal.

As the city drew closer, the familiar skyline of Linkon coming into view, Xavier’s pulse quickened. The tall buildings glistened in the morning light, their architecture grand and imposing. But even with the comforting familiarity of home, his mind remained restless.

Finally, the car pulled to a stop in front of City Hall. The building stood tall and unyielding, its imposing columns and grand facade casting long shadows across the street. Without wasting a second, Xavier pushed the door open and stepped out hurriedly, the weight of his decision still heavy on his shoulders.

He stood for a moment, looking up at the structure, taking in its architecture. It felt strange, being back in the city after everything that had happened. But he wasn’t here for reflection. He was here for answers.

Xavier’s hand instinctively moved to the pocket on his chest, patting the place where the SIM card was safely tucked away. The key to everything. Whether Skye was after associations secrets didn't matter now, the information on that SIM card was everything Xavier needed right now. It could give him answers, maybe even lead him to you. It was his only chance to understand what had happened in Reese’s basement, and where you had possibly gone.

With a deep breath, he turned back toward the car—only to find that Skye had already sped off, leaving nothing but the faint smell of exhaust in the air. The man was gone, disappearing into the distance as if he’d never been there at all.

Xavier stood there for a moment, staring at the empty space where the car had been, his mind still whirling with thoughts. This isn’t over, he told himself again. He couldn’t shake the feeling that Skye’s shadow would loom over him, no matter where he went.

But for now, he had work to do.

With one last glance at the distant city skyline, Xavier turned and made his way past city hall, heading straight for headquarters, the weight of the SIM card in his pocket a constant reminder of what was at stake.

And of what was still to come.

“Caw! Caw!”

Your eyes snapped open, the sound cutting through the suffocating darkness. For a moment, you couldn’t tell where you were—the inky blackness of the N109 Zone was so complete that it pressed in on you from all sides. There was no light here, not even the faintest glow filtering in through the windows. Just endless, crushing darkness.

You groaned, pulling the blanket tighter around your body as if it could shield you from the cold reality of your situation.

Not yet. You just wanted to get lost in your dreams for a little while longer.

Through the thick stillness of the room, you could hear the faint rustling of feathers, and even without seeing, you knew exactly what had disturbed your sleep.

“Go away, you stupid fucking bird…” you muttered into the blanket, your voice hoarse and tired. But the familiar flap of wings told you the crow wasn’t going anywhere.

There was a slight rustle at the head of the bed, and then you felt it—the sudden weight of the bird landing on the pillow next to you. Its presence was unmistakable, a cold, ominous shadow in the already oppressive darkness. You didn’t need to see the bird to feel its eyes on you, watching, waiting.

You sighed heavily, pulling the blanket away from your face just enough to squint into the darkness. Mephisto's shape was barely visible, a faint silhouette against the dim outline of the room. Even without light, you could sense the bird’s beady eyes, glowing with unnatural intelligence, watching your every move.

“Why are you always here?” you groaned, turning your head to the side but not making any real effort to shoo the bird away. It wasn’t the first time you’d woken to find the crow lurking in the shadows, unsettling and always too close for comfort.

The bird didn’t move, only cocked its head at you, its dark feathers rustling in the silence. A low, throaty caw escaped it, the sound strangely muffled by the thick blackness of the Zone. The air felt heavier here, like it was weighing down on you, draining what little energy you had left. Fatigue clung to you like a second skin, making it hard to even lift your head from the pillow.

“Go on, then���” you muttered, voice trailing off as exhaustion tugged at your body. You were too tired to fight, too tired to care. Whatever strange game the bird was playing, you didn’t have the strength to resist.

Mephisto's soft caw echoed in the suffocating stillness, the sound barely audible but enough to gnaw at your nerves. The scrape of his claws on the pillow sent an uncomfortable chill through you, his dark presence creeping closer, settling into the shadows like it belonged there. The oppressive darkness of the N109 Zone outside made it impossible to see him clearly, but you didn’t need to. You could feel him—watching, waiting, like he always was.

For a moment, the room was silent again. Then, without warning, Mephisto took flight, the sharp flutter of wings cutting through the air as he landed somewhere across the room. You didn’t bother to follow his movement, too tired to care. Not until his caw broke the silence once more. And again. And again.

The crow’s incessant cawing drilled into your already frayed nerves, each sound louder than the last. You groaned, pulling the blanket tighter over your head in a futile attempt to block him out. But the bird’s persistence didn’t stop. Caw. Caw. Caw.

“Are you serious?” you muttered into the pillow, your voice muffled. But Mephisto continued, relentless, as if mocking your exhaustion. The weight of the past few weeks pressed down on you—sleepless nights, endless fatigue, nausea creeping at the edges of your mind. The last thing you needed was this damn crow breaking what little peace you had.

Finally, you had enough. With a frustrated groan, you sat upright and turned the lamp on, ready to scream every obscenity you could think of at the annoying bird.

But before you could let the words fly, the sound of metal scraping against metal stopped you.

Your eyes darted to the door just as a small slit opened, and the tray was pushed through with a loud clank. On the tray sat a plate of buttered French toast, syrup drizzled generously on top, fried eggs glistening with oil, and three thick slices of bacon.

You blinked, staring at the meal as if it were the most absurd thing you’d ever seen.

Breakfast? All of that noise and irritation—for breakfast?

You glanced at Mephisto, who had now stopped cawing and perched himself smugly atop a shelf in the corner of the room. His beady eyes seemed to gleam in the darkness, and you could swear there was a mocking glint in them. As if he were proud of himself for his part in waking you.

“The hell, Mephisto?” you muttered, rubbing your temples in frustration. “You woke me up…for breakfast?”

The crow gave a final, low caw, as if satisfied with himself. You glared at him for a moment before your stomach growled, betraying your irritation. The rich smell of bacon and syrup filled the room, and despite your fatigue and frustration, your body responded.

“Unbelievable…” you sighed, swinging your legs over the side of the bed. “I guess I can’t be mad at you. But next time? A little less cawing, alright?”

Mephisto tilted his metal head, as if considering your request, then fluffed his feathers and settled into silence. For now.

You dragged the tray toward the couch, the familiar clank of metal chains following you with every step. The buttery smell of the French toast filled the room, a comforting contrast to the cold, oppressive dim darkness of the room. It was a simple pleasure, one you rarely allowed yourself to enjoy. Sitting down, you tucked your legs beneath you and began to eat, the warm toast melting on your tongue, the crisp bacon adding a much-needed crunch to the silence.

But as you chewed, your thoughts began to drift, slipping away from the meal in front of you. Unwillingly, they went back to him.

Sylus.

The room was empty now, and yes, you had often eaten breakfast alone—but more times than not, Sylus had been there. His presence had always loomed, a constant shadow in your confined world. Sometimes he was silent, simply watching you with those cold, unreadable eyes. Other times, he would speak, absently chatting about his ventures outside the N109 Zone, about deals made or enemies eliminated. You had never cared much for the details—most of it sounded like distant noise, some half-forgotten memory—but even then, it had been more entertaining than staring at these four black walls.

A scowl crept across your face as you took another bite. Why the hell are you thinking about that prick now?

You shook your head, frustrated. You were alone now. Sylus was gone, off somewhere dealing with whatever business had called him away, and you should be enjoying this time without him. You should be savoring the silence, the freedom from his looming presence. You should be grateful that he wasn’t here, filling the space with his mind games, his cold, possessive gaze always tracking your every movement.

Fuck him.

You stabbed at a piece of bacon, chewing aggressively as if it could help rid him from your thoughts. He was a manipulative bastard. And yet… despite your best efforts, his presence lingered in your mind, as persistent as ever.

Your gaze drifted to the empty space where he would normally sit, his absence both a relief and an unsettling reminder. You had despised him, hated every moment he had been there, the way he made you feel like a pawn in whatever twisted game he was playing. But now that he was gone, the space felt… strange.

Stop it. You shouldn’t be thinking about him. Not now. Not when he was out of your life—if only for a while.

But even as you tried to push him from your mind, one of his last words echoed in your head, an unshakable whisper: “This may be the last time we talk, kitten.”

The way he had said it, that cold finality in his voice, had stuck with you, nagging at the back of your mind ever since. He had called you that damn pet name after days of ignoring you, his voice dripping with condescension, as if he were giving you a final warning. Or a promise.

You hated it. You hated how those words seemed to hang over you, even now, as if he had left part of himself behind in this room, even after he was gone.

“Kitten.”

You shook your head again, harder this time, trying to shove the memory aside. No, you told yourself. You wouldn’t let him get to you, not like this. He was gone. For now, you were alone. Enjoy it while it lasts, you thought bitterly, taking another bite of French toast, the syrup coating your tongue in sweetness.

But no matter how hard you tried, that final word—kitten—kept echoing in the back of your mind, a lingering reminder that Sylus might be gone for now, but he was far from finished with you.

You forced yourself to focus on the meal in front of you, determined to push any lingering thoughts of Sylus away. You chewed quickly, finishing the French toast, the syrup leaving a sticky sweetness on your lips. The bacon and eggs soon followed, and though the food was far from satisfying, it was enough to momentarily distract you. You let the warmth of the food settle in your stomach, willing the heaviness in your chest to dissipate with it.

"No drink to wash this down?" you muttered, annoyed that the chefs had seemingly forgotten yet again.

With the last bite taken, you placed the empty plate back on the tray and rose from the couch, the clink of metal cuffs reminding you of your ever-present situation. The chains dragged behind you as you moved toward the bathroom, passing Mephisto, who had settled back onto his perch in the corner. His black feathers were fluffed up, his head tucked beneath a wing, and for once, the bird seemed content to leave you in peace.

You shot him a glare, but it was half-hearted. At least now, with breakfast behind you, you could take a moment for yourself.

The bright lights of the bathroom strained your eyes as you flicked them on. The chill of the tile beneath your feet made you shiver as you moved toward the shower, feeling the exhaustion settle deeper into your bones. The mirror reflected your tired eyes, the dark circles beneath them, the weight of sleepless nights etched into your face. You needed this—the chance to feel clean, to wash away the grime of the past few days. Maybe then you could feel a little more like yourself.

With a sigh, you began to undress, your fingers reaching for the clasps at the sides of your underwear. You couldn’t help but feel a small flicker of gratitude as you unclasped the sides with ease. Sylus had, at the very least, provided you with something that made life a little more bearable. You didn’t have to go bare for two weeks, which had been your fear the moment you realized the cuffs restricted you from putting on anything that required more movement.

At least he wasn’t completely cruel, you thought, though you hated giving him even that much credit.

The underwear unclasped easily, falling to the floor as you stepped into the shower. The hot water hit your skin like a wave of relief, and for a moment, you let yourself breathe, closing your eyes and letting the steam rise around you. The weight of the cuffs dragged slightly at your wrists, but you ignored it, focusing instead on the heat that loosened the tension in your muscles, if only temporarily.

As the water washed over you, you forced your mind to stay present, to focus on the warmth, the small comfort of being alone in this space. You scrubbed your skin, letting the soap and water cleanse the sweat, the fear, the exhaustion that had clung to you like a second skin.

You weren’t thinking about him. Not now.

The shower passed without incident, the warm water a brief respite in an otherwise unchanging routine. You let it wash over you, not bothering to rush. There was no need to hurry—nothing would be different when you stepped outside the bathroom. The four black walls of your confined world would still be waiting, the ever-present weight of captivity pressing down on you.

You dressed slowly, fingers lazily fastening the clasps on your new underwear and pulling on the rest of your clothes. It was a mundane task, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care much. What was the point? Nothing was going to change outside of this small space. Nothing ever did.

With a sigh, you stepped through the bathroom opening and stepped back into the main room. The dim light from the lamp did little to brighten the space, but something caught your eye near the door—a small bottle, sitting neatly on the floor.

You walked over, the clink of your chain echoing in the silence as you crouched down to pick it up. A small bottle of apple juice. You stared at it for a moment, turning it over in your hands. Ah. So the chefs finally remembered your drink.

You examined the label, noticing the word "organic" printed in bold letters across the front. A scoff escaped your lips as you raised an eyebrow. Organic? Really?

It wasn’t like you had asked for anything fancy. Just apple juice. Something simple, a small comfort in a world that was anything but. But the idea that the chefs had gone out of their way to make sure it was organic felt almost laughable. As if the quality of the juice would somehow make up for everything else. As if this one, carefully selected bottle could erase the chain around your ankle or the suffocating darkness that clung to every corner of the N109 Zone.

You shook your head with a faint smirk, unscrewing the cap. The liquid inside swirled lazily as you brought the bottle to your lips, the familiar taste of apples flooding your senses. It wasn’t bad. In fact, it was probably the best thing you’d had in days.

Still, the absurdity of it lingered, and the small humor in the situation wasn’t lost on you. Organic apple juice, of all things, in a place like this. It almost made you laugh—almost.

You took another sip, walking back to the couch where your breakfast tray still sat, the weight of the cuffs dragging slightly as you moved. You sat down, staring at the empty plate, the apple juice bottle still in hand. For a moment, the silence stretched, and the thoughts you’d been pushing away started to creep back in.

But no. You wouldn’t let them take over. Not now. Not yet.

Instead, you focused on the small sweetness of the juice, the faint taste of apples grounding you in the present moment. A small comfort in an otherwise impossible world.

Time passed, though you weren’t sure how much. Minutes? Hours? The stagnant silence of the room made it impossible to tell. The dim light never changed, the walls never shifted. Everything felt stuck in place, leaving you floating in a haze of monotony, barely tethered to the reality outside your mind.

It wasn’t until you heard the familiar scrape of metal against metal that you realized lunch had been passed through the small opening in the door. You glanced toward the tray and sighed. Another meal, another reminder of how routine your captivity had become.

Grilled chicken sandwiches with a side salad, the tangy scent of vinegar dressing wafting up as you sat back down on the couch. For a drink, water. The sight of it barely registered. You gave the chef your dirty dish from earlier and took your new meal. You ate out of necessity, chewing mechanically as your thoughts drifted away from the plate in front of you.

Xavier.

His name filled your mind suddenly, unbidden, and a sharp pang of worry twisted in your chest. You tried to swallow it down with a bite of chicken, but it lingered, heavy and insistent.

Was he okay?

You hadn't allowed yourself to think about him much since you’d been taken here. The thought of him searching for you, desperately trying to figure out what had happened, was too much to bear. The last thing you wanted was to feel hope. Hope was dangerous, a slippery slope into despair. But now, as you sat alone in this suffocating room, your thoughts strayed to him without your permission.

Had he given up searching for you?

You forced yourself to take another bite, trying to ground yourself in the present. But the idea gnawed at you. Xavier was relentless. He wouldn’t stop—not unless… No. You shook your head. You knew him better than that. If there was even the slightest chance that you were alive, Xavier would be searching, tearing apart the world to find you. He wasn’t the type to give up. He couldn’t give up.

But still, even as you tried to cling to that thought, the darker possibility crept in. Slowly, insidiously, like a poison sinking into your veins.

What if… he couldn’t find you because Sylus wouldn’t let him?

A chill ran through you, cold and unsettling. Even if, by some miracle, Xavier had tracked your location, there was no way he’d get anywhere near this place without Sylus knowing. Sylus had eyes everywhere. He controlled everything in the N109 Zone. No one could move in or out without his permission. If Xavier had found you, Sylus would have stopped him.

Or worse.

Your stomach churned, the food on your plate suddenly unappetizing. A horrifying thought started to crawl its way into your mind, gripping you tightly. You tried to push it away, but it clawed its way to the surface.

Had Sylus… killed him?

You swallowed hard, the tang of vinegar burning your throat as you forced the food down. The thought stuck in your chest like a stone. Was that why you hadn’t felt any hope? Why everything had felt so bleak, so final? Because somewhere, out there, Xavier was—no. You couldn’t let yourself believe that. Not now. Not when the possibility of his death could unravel you completely.

But still, the idea sat there, festering, filling the silence with dread. Sylus wouldn’t have hesitated if he saw Xavier as a threat. The cold, calculated way he moved, the ease with which he eliminated obstacles in his path—it was entirely possible that Xavier had become just another casualty in Sylus’s game.

You set down the sandwich, your appetite gone. Your mind raced, heart hammering against your ribs as you sat there, staring at the black walls that had closed in around you for what felt like an eternity. If Xavier was dead, then what? What did that leave you with? Nothing but these four walls and Sylus’s twisted version of captivity.

No.

You couldn’t think like that. Not now. You couldn’t give up. Not yet.

Xavier had to be alive. He had to be out there, still fighting, still searching. He wouldn’t stop. He wouldn’t abandon you. You refused to believe anything else.

But no matter how hard you tried to push it away, the seed of doubt had already been planted. And it wasn’t going anywhere. You clutched your stomach as a surge of pain cramped in your lower abdomen. But just as quickly as it came, it was gone. Chalking it up to the food, you decide to lay down.

The fifth day. At least, you thought it might be. Time had blurred into a strange, formless thing, slipping through your fingers without any markers to distinguish one day from the next. You had no way of knowing how long it had been since Sylus left, or even what day it was. You were just staring at the ceiling now, your mind slowly unraveling from the sheer weight of boredom.

The darkness of the N109 Zone outside was relentless, pressing in from all sides, and the oppressive silence only seemed to make it worse. You had run out of things to think about, your mind turning over the same memories, the same thoughts—where was Xavier? Was Sylus really gone?—until they became noise. Background static.

You turned your head, your eyes landing on Mephisto, perched nearby. He was preening his feathers, utterly unconcerned with your slow descent into madness.

“Hey…” you muttered, breaking the silence. The bird paused, one red eye shifting toward you.

“You should’ve told your owner to leave me a clock,” you said, sarcasm dripping from your voice. “A calendar... books. Something. I’m going crazy here.”

Mephisto stilled, cocking his head slightly as if he were processing what you said. He blinked, staring at you with his unnervingly intelligent eyes. For a brief, absurd moment, you wondered if he understood you. You let out a soft, bitter laugh, turning your head away from him.

“Yeah, I figured.”

The silence settled in again, the darkness heavier now. Your body felt sluggish, your mind clouded with exhaustion. Sleep had become your only escape from the monotony, so you let it take you. You felt odd. Like something was wrong in your gut. Despite this, your eyelids fluttered shut, and soon you were drifting into a restless slumber, the weight of the world outside slipping away.

When you woke, the room was still dark—unchanged, like always. But something was different. Your eyes drifted to the door, and you blinked in surprise. A small bundle of items lay just inside the door. Food, probably. You were used to meals being passed through the metal slit in the door, arriving without ceremony.

But this wasn’t food.

You sat up slowly, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you stared at the items. Your pulse quickened, curiosity gnawing at you. You shuffled across the room, the clink of your chain barely registering as you crouched down in front of the bundle.

A calendar. And an old, slightly battered record. On the record a note reads:

Listen to this if you're bored. Should help.

-Sylus

You stared at the items in disbelief, your fingers hovering over the calendar as if touching it might cause it to disappear. A calendar? It was such a simple thing, but it felt monumental in this place, where time had become meaningless.

Mephisto let out a soft caw from his perch, but you ignored him, your thoughts spinning. You reached for the calendar, flipping it open to find a bookmarked page and a date circled in bright red ink.

February.

It was February now. The realization hit you like a wave, and you froze, staring at the circled date. How long had it been since you’d arrived here? Days? Weeks? It was impossible to tell. Time had slipped away from you, leaving nothing but this void of endless darkness. And now, suddenly, a date was staring you in the face, mocking your inability to track time.

Your heart thudded heavily in your chest. Sylus probably had the chef leave these things for you. A reminder. A subtle way to toy with you maybe? Reminding you that no matter what you did, he was always watching? Or was it really a nice gesture?

You glanced at Mephisto, who was once again preening his feathers, seemingly oblivious to your shock. The absurd thought crossed your mind—could this bird telepathically communicate with Sylus?

No. You shook your head, trying to push away the ridiculousness of it. There was probably a live feed in his eyes. Sylus had eyes everywhere. This was just his way of reinforcing the fact that you were never alone, no matter how much you wanted to be.

But even with that realization, a small, giddy excitement bubbled up inside you. A calendar. An actual date. It wasn’t much, but it was something. Something real. Something you could hold onto, in a place where everything felt so distant, so out of reach.

You rushed to open the calendar fully, your fingers flipping through the pages, tracing the days you had lost. How long had you been here? You couldn’t tell anymore. The days blurred together, the passage of time meaningless in this dark, suffocating world.

February. You had been here for longer than you thought. But how much longer? Weeks? The time was slipping away from you, and even now, with the calendar in your hands, you weren’t sure what it meant.

Still, you clung to it, flipping through the pages again and again, as if the answers you sought were hidden somewhere in the numbers. You sighed, settling back against the couch, holding the calendar in your lap. The small victory of having something, anything, to mark the days felt like a lifeline.

You glanced at the record. Another piece of the puzzle. Was it just an old record, or was it something more? Maybe a way for Sylus to toy with you, another way to keep you under his thumb.

For now, it didn’t matter. You had a calendar, a way to tell time. February. It was something to hold onto.

But the unsettling thought still lingered in the back of your mind—how long had it really been?

Your gaze shifted to the record player in the corner of the room, one that had been there since you arrived but had remained untouched. Shelves lined the walls, filled with records you had never bothered to look at. They felt like relics of another time, useless in the darkness of your current world. Besides, you had never known how to use one, and even if you did, the thought of music felt distant, disconnected from the stark reality of your life here.

But now, with the record in your hand, the idea of playing it stirred something in you. The room was suffocatingly quiet—always had been. Maybe music, any music, could break the monotony, even if only for a little while.

It couldn’t be that hard to figure out.

You stood slowly, the weight of the chain dragging slightly as you crossed the room toward the record player. The shelves of records loomed next to it, untouched and collecting dust, but your focus was solely on the player now. You stared at it for a moment, feeling a small flicker of uncertainty. You’d seen record players in movies, but you’d never used one. Still, how complicated could it be?

Placing the record down carefully on the turntable, you fumbled with the needle, your fingers shaky as you tried to set it up the way you remembered from vague recollections of old movies. The needle slipped a few times, scratching lightly over the surface of the record, and you winced.

“Come on…” you muttered under your breath, frustration building as you fiddled with it, adjusting the speed and placement. For a brief moment, you considered giving up entirely. What was the point of this? It wasn’t like playing some music was going to change anything.

But just as you were about to pull the needle away, the record began to spin. You held your breath as the sound of soft crackling filled the room, and then—music.

A hauntingly beautiful tune drifted through the air, slow and melodic, the soft notes of an organ echoing in the stillness. The melody was deep, resonating with something inside you that had been silent for too long. The music wrapped around you, filling the empty space, pulling at emotions you had long since buried.

You stood there, frozen, as the music enveloped the room. It was strange, hearing something so beautiful in a place that had become nothing but a prison. The contrast made the music feel almost ghostly, like it didn’t belong here. Like it was an echo from another life, another time.

For a moment, you just listened. The sound washed over you, the haunting notes tugging at something deep inside. It was almost too much. The weight of the loneliness, the fear, the uncertainty—all of it seemed to rise to the surface with each note that played. You hadn’t realized how much you had been holding in, how much you had forced yourself to push down, until now.

The haunting tune was a reminder. A reminder of everything you had lost, everything that had been stolen from you. But it was also… comforting, in a strange way. It was the first thing in this place that had touched you—really touched you.

You closed your eyes, letting the music sink in, every note heavy with meaning, every chord reverberating through you. For a moment, it was as if the darkness of the N109 Zone didn’t matter. As if the four black walls that surrounded you had disappeared, leaving you in a space where only the music existed.

The tune swelled, filling every corner of the room, its melody bittersweet, carrying an unspoken sadness that felt far too familiar. It wrapped around you like a soft blanket, drawing you into its haunting embrace, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you allowed yourself to feel. To let the music stir something inside you that you had locked away for too long.

As the song played on, you sat down on the edge of the couch, the record player spinning quietly in the corner. Your fingers absently traced the label of the calendar in your lap, your mind floating somewhere between the haunting melody and the strange sense of calm it brought.

It had now been two days since you first played the record, two days of trying to distract yourself from the endless monotony of your existence in the N109 Zone. You’d made it a habit now—when you woke up, you marked the calendar with a ballpoint pen you’d found in Sylus’s desk, scratching a line through the date as if it could somehow bring you closer to freedom. Or at least closer to understanding how long you had been trapped here.

Your circadian rhythm was the only other way to tell what time it was.

The haunting melody from the record still played in your mind sometimes, but you hadn’t touched it again. There was something about the music that unsettled you. Too emotional. Too revealing. So, for now, you kept your distance.

In an attempt to stave off the boredom clawing at your mind, you finally agreed to join Luke and Kieran for a game of Kitty Cards—something they had pestered you about for days. You figured it was better than staring at the walls, waiting for nothing to happen.

At first, the game was almost enjoyable. Luke’s awkward attempts at jokes and Kieran’s quiet intensity made for an interesting dynamic, and for a brief moment, you let yourself relax. It was a small respite, playing cards with these two in the dim light of the room, their presence a distraction from the oppressive weight of your thoughts.

But then, slowly, you started to feel it.

The familiar aches. A dull, persistent cramp settling in your lower half, tugging at your body like an unwelcome reminder. You shifted in your seat, trying to ignore the discomfort, but the tiredness crept in next, sudden and heavy. The exhaustion weighed down on your eyelids, your muscles growing sluggish.

You sighed softly, knowing what was coming.

“Sorry, guys,” you said, trying to keep your voice light as you gathered the cards in front of you. “I think I’m done for now. Just… feeling off.”

Luke blinked, his mask tilting slightly as he looked at you. “You okay?”

Kieran’s eyes followed you as you rose from the table, his expression unreadable. You nodded quickly, not wanting to explain.

“Yeah, just tired. I’ll catch you both later.”

Without waiting for a response, you made your way back to the small bathroom. The cramping in your lower half was more noticeable now, pulsing with every step, but you welcomed it. At least it means something’s happening, you thought bitterly.

Once inside the bathroom, you heard the door close as the twins left, your body aching as you lowered yourself onto the toilet. You exhaled sharply, leaning forward slightly as the cramps continued to tug at your abdomen.

Then, as you glanced down at your underwear, you saw it—tiny specks of blood, dark against the fabric.

Relief washed over you, heavier than you expected. That time again? Already? You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, feeling the tension drain from your body. The blood meant your period had come. It meant everything was still functioning normally, despite the chaos of your life. And most importantly—it meant you weren’t tied to him.

You weren’t pregnant. You weren’t carrying his child.

Your stomach unclenched slightly at the thought, and you leaned back against the cool tile wall, closing your eyes. Sylus had tried to plant that seed in you, that much you knew. But your body had fought against it, and now, seeing the blood, you knew for sure—you weren’t tied to that monster in the way he had planned.

Relief mingled with anger. How dare he even try to bind you to him like that? As if forcing you to bear his child would somehow solidify the twisted power he had over you.

But now? Now you were free from that possibility. You pressed your hand against your lower abdomen, feeling the faint ache of cramps beneath your palm, and allowed yourself to feel grateful. It wasn’t much, but it was something. A small victory in a place that gave you so little.

You dressed again slowly, wincing slightly as another cramp rolled through your body. You were exhausted—your body already begging for sleep—but you felt lighter. Freer, even. The blood meant you weren’t Sylus’s pawn, not in the way he had wanted.

And for now, that was enough.

Week one without Sylus had passed, but the moments that passed blurred together. You woke up feeling more drained than the last. No matter how many hours you spent in bed, you couldn’t shake the exhaustion that clung to you. It felt like a weight pressing down on your entire body, your limbs heavy and uncooperative, as though sleep was nothing more than a brief interruption in the long strain of fatigue.

You rubbed your eyes, the dull ache of sleepless nights pounding behind them. It’s just the insomnia, you told yourself, convincing yourself that the exhaustion was simply from the tossing and turning that plagued you every night. After all, how could anyone sleep well in this place?

But deep down, you knew this tiredness was different. It wasn’t the usual grogginess from a restless night—it was deeper, more persistent. No matter how long you tried to rest, you woke up feeling like you hadn’t slept at all.

With a groan, you forced yourself out of bed, each step slow and heavy as if your body had to drag itself from the sleep it never really got. You winced, pressing a hand to your stomach as you moved. The bloating was worse after every meal now. Every time you ate, your stomach would swell uncomfortably, tight and distended, like something inside was pushing against your skin. The discomfort was constant, and by the end of the day, you could barely stand it.

It’s the damn period, you thought, grimacing as you placed your hand over your abdomen. Has to be.

Periods always made you bloat. That wasn’t new. And with all the stress you’d been under lately, it made sense that things weren’t exactly running like clockwork. Still, the bloating felt different this time—more intense, more persistent, as though it was refusing to settle. Even after hours had passed, the discomfort clung to you, making you feel like your body was swelling from the inside out.

You shuffled to the bathroom, trying to focus on anything but the nagging fatigue and the bloating that made your movements stiff and awkward. A cramp twisted briefly in your abdomen, but it was dull, barely noticeable. You sighed, pulling down your underwear to change your pad, expecting to see the usual gushing blood.

But there was hardly any.

You blinked, staring at the emptiness on the pad. Yesterday, you had bled more—definitely. The first day had felt like a normal start to your period, but now, there was barely anything.

Huh?

You sat there for a moment, staring down at the pristine white of the pad. Your fingers traced the waistband of your underwear as confusion settled in. The cramping had mostly faded, too, just a slight ache now, nothing like the intensity of what you usually felt during your period.

Where is it?

You pressed a hand to your lower abdomen, the discomfort of bloating still lingering beneath your fingers. There should have been more blood. There should have been more something. But now, all that was left was a faint stain and a gnawing sense of unease.

It’s fine, you told yourself, standing up and trying to shake the feeling off. Periods can be irregular. It’s just stress.

That had to be it. The sleepless nights, the strain of living in the N109 Zone, the constant tension pulling at you—it was all catching up to you. Your body was just reacting to the emotional and physical stress. It made sense.

But still, the small voice of doubt in the back of your mind was growing louder. You’d always had unpredictable cycles, but this? This didn’t feel right. The bloating, the exhaustion, the lack of blood—it was all off. Yet, you forced yourself to ignore it. What else could it be?

You shook your head, forcing a laugh under your breath as you stared at the nearly empty pad. It’s fine. Just stress.

But no matter how hard you tried to convince yourself, the nagging discomfort remained. And as you changed your pad and moved to wash your hands, the question gnawed at you with every breath.

Where is it?

It didn't help that with every meal from that day forward you'd get a slight pang of sickness in your belly. Maybe the chefs weren't that great of cooks after all.

But as time passed, the nausea only become more unbearable. It was no longer just an inconvenience that popped up here and there—it was constant. It churned in your stomach from the moment you woke up, creeping up before you even thought about food, making the thought of eating feel like a battle. Each meal now brought a wave of queasiness that lingered long after you forced yourself to swallow a few bites. The food you once ate out of necessity now felt impossible to keep down.

It wasn’t just the nausea, either. The small comforts you’d relied on—like lying on your chest when you finally collapsed into bed—were gone, too. Your breasts had grown tender, so sensitive that even the thought of pressing them against the mattress made you wince. Rolling over had become a challenge, and any attempt to settle into your normal sleeping position left you frustrated and sore.

You sat on the edge of the bed, gingerly pulling on a loose shirt, hoping the fabric wouldn’t irritate your nipples any further. Every little thing seemed to be falling apart inside you. Between the nausea, the tenderness, and the bloating that hadn’t eased up, your body felt like it was turning against you.

It was the same with everything else, too. Even simple things—like playing another round of Kitty Cards with Luke and Kieran—had started to feel overwhelming. You had hoped the game might distract you from the constant discomfort, but it wasn’t working. Every time you sat down to play, your mind would drift, thoughts swirling around Sylus, his absence, and the creeping uncertainty that gnawed at you.

The twins were patient, at least. They sat across from you, dealing the cards and chatting casually, oblivious to the storm brewing in your mind. But today, the pressure felt different. Everything felt different.

You stared at your cards, barely processing the game as it unfolded in front of you. Your head was spinning, your stomach twisting uncomfortably. You had lost again—no surprise there. Normally, you’d shrug it off, crack a sarcastic joke about how the twins were impossible to beat. But this time, you felt something break inside you, something small but undeniable.

Before you could stop it, the tears welled up in your eyes.

“Damn it,” you muttered, your voice trembling. You quickly wiped at your eyes, trying to will the tears away, but it was too late. They fell fast and hard, streaming down your cheeks before you could control them.

Luke and Kieran exchanged a panicked glance at each other through their masks, their playful demeanor evaporating as they rushed to your side.

“Whoa, hey, it’s just a game!” Luke said, his voice soft and cautious as he reached out, clearly unsure how to handle your sudden outburst. “It’s not a big deal, we can play another round, yeah?”

Kieran didn’t say anything at first, just shifted closer, his presence more of a quiet comfort than anything. He placed a hand gently on your shoulder, his voice calm but concerned. “You okay?”

You shook your head quickly, choking back a sob as you tried to speak. “I’m fine. I’m fine, really. It’s just… I don’t know.” The words felt flimsy, hollow, even as you said them. You didn’t know what was happening—why the sudden flood of emotions, why you felt so completely out of control. It wasn’t like you.

“It’s just everything,” you whispered, more to yourself than to them.

The twins stayed close, Luke rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly while Kieran quietly handed you a tissue. You wiped your face, embarrassed by the sudden outburst. This wasn’t you. You weren’t the kind of person who broke down over losing a card game, and yet here you were, crying in front of two people who probably didn’t know what to do with you.

“I’m sorry,” you muttered, feeling the heat of embarrassment creeping up your neck. “I don’t know why… it’s just been—everything’s been so off lately.”

The twins exchanged another glance, but they didn’t push you. Instead, they nodded, offering small smiles of reassurance.

“We get it,” Luke said softly. “It’s a lot. You don’t have to explain.”

But as you sat there, sniffling and trying to regain control, the spinning in your head worsened. Your mind whirled with a thousand thoughts, none of them settling. What was happening to you? The nausea, the fatigue, the sensitivity, the tears. It didn’t make sense. You had blamed it all on stress and your period, but now the doubts were creeping in again.

And with those doubts came the nagging thought you’d been avoiding for days now: When is Sylus coming back?

The last time you’d seen him, he had left without giving you any real answers. His cold, detached demeanor had sent chills down your spine, and the memory of his final words replayed in your mind over and over again, like a taunt you couldn’t escape.

"This may be the last time we talk, kitten."

You squeezed your eyes shut, willing the words away, but they echoed louder than ever. Was he dead? Had something happened to him? No… that wasn’t possible. Sylus wasn’t the kind of man who went down easily. He was always ten steps ahead, always in control. But then why did his words haunt you like a final goodbye?

Your chest tightened, your stomach churning as the weight of it all pressed down on you. You needed answers, but you had none. And without Sylus here—without knowing if he was ever coming back—there was nothing to do but sit with the spinning confusion, the unease, and the gnawing fear that something was very, very wrong.

Days pass in a blur and you were getting tired of feeling god awful. And thirsty? You couldn't stop drinking.

You kept finding yourself asking Mephisto, of all things, if he could somehow pass a note to the chef for more drinks. Water, juice, anything you could get your hands on. The constant thirst gnawed at you, as relentless as the rest of the changes you couldn’t understand. The more your body demanded, the more frustrated you became.

“What the hell is wrong with me?” you muttered under your breath, staring into the mirror after pushing away yet another meal you couldn't finish. Your reflection stared back at you, tired and drawn, with dark circles under your eyes that hadn’t been there a few weeks ago. Your body felt foreign—heavy, sluggish, like something you couldn’t control anymore. You weren’t even sure what was happening to you, but you hated it. You hated how powerless you felt inside your own skin.

It was as if your body was betraying you in slow, painful ways. And it was getting harder and harder to hold yourself together.

You stepped back from the mirror, and the weight of it all—everything you had been pushing down—suddenly crashed over you. A sob escaped your throat, and before you could stop it, you were breaking down. Again. You slid to the floor, pressing your hands to your face, trying to stifle the tears, but they came faster than you could handle. The frustration, the exhaustion, the endless confusion—it all bubbled over.

Your hands were shaking as you cried, your body feeling too weak to even hold yourself upright. You were falling apart, piece by piece, and there was nothing left to keep the walls up.

After what felt like an eternity of sitting there on the floor, tears streaming down your face, you glanced over at the calendar. Through tear-stained eyes, you caught a glimpse of the circled date—the day Sylus was supposed to come back.

Your heart sank, a hollow pit forming in your chest as the realization hit you like a blow.

Three days.

Three days had already passed since he was supposed to be back.

Your breath caught in your throat as the thought consumed you. Shit. He’s dead. That’s the only explanation that made sense. Sylus was dead, and now you were trapped here, in this miserable, suffocating prison, forever.

And what made it worse—what twisted the knife in deeper—was that you cared.

You shouldn’t. You knew that. Sylus had kidnapped you, manipulated you, left a scar on your arm and worse, scars in your mind. He had controlled you, twisted your life into something unrecognizable. And here you were, crying—actually crying—because he wasn’t coming back?

Fuck him, you thought, angrily wiping your tears away. Why do you even care?

But even as you tried to convince yourself, the tears kept falling. Why did you care? What was wrong with you? Why did the thought of Sylus being dead, of him never walking back through that door, tear you apart in ways you couldn’t explain?

Your head spun, the weight of your emotions crashing over you, dragging you under. You hated him. You hated everything he’d done to you. He’d stolen you from your life, cut into your skin, ripped away your freedom. You should be celebrating the thought of him being gone. You should want him to be dead.

But you didn’t.

You leaned your head against the wall, pressing your hands to your chest, trying to quiet the storm inside of you. The nausea was back again, swirling in your stomach, making it harder to breathe. Your body felt like it wasn’t yours anymore, like you had lost control in more ways than one.

Tears dripped down your cheeks as you shook your head, whispering to yourself. “What is wrong with me?”

There was no answer, only the suffocating silence of the N109 Zone, pressing in on you from all sides. And in that silence, one thought kept repeating itself, over and over again, haunting you with every breath:

"This may be the last time we talk, kitten."

“FUCK YOU!” The words ripped from your throat before you even realized it, raw and filled with a fury you didn’t know you still had in you.

You surged to your feet, your vision blurred with tears and rage as you grabbed the calendar from its place on the wall. The innocent object, the one thing that had grounded you to the passing of time, now felt like a mockery. Every marked date, every circled day—it was all a lie. He wasn’t coming back.

Without thinking, you hurled the calendar across the room with all the strength you could muster. It hit the opposite wall with a dull thud before falling to the floor, pages crumpling as it landed. The sound echoed in the room, but it wasn’t enough to quiet the roar inside your head.

You stood there, chest heaving, your heart pounding in your ears. The room felt too small, too suffocating, the darkness pressing in on you from every side. You wanted to scream again, to throw everything in the room, to tear it all apart until there was nothing left to remind you of him, of this place, of the horrible truth you couldn’t escape.

Sylus. His name was a bitter taste in your mouth. He had controlled you, twisted your life into this nightmare, and now he had the audacity to leave you here—alone. The anger burned in your chest, mixing with the sadness, the confusion, the overwhelming feeling of being lost.

You wanted to hate him. You did hate him. But in that same breath, the thought of him being gone forever, of him never walking through that door again, left you hollow. Why?

You felt an intense pain in your chest. In your heart. Physical, longing, brimming underneath all the hate when you thought of Sylus.

Tears streamed down your face as you stood there, fists clenched at your sides, staring at the crumpled calendar on the floor. The broken mess of it mirrored the way you felt inside—shattered, with no way to piece it back together.

“Fuck you,” you whispered, your voice breaking. It wasn’t just for Sylus anymore. It was for everything. For the N109 Zone, for your broken body, for the endless spiral of confusion and fear that had taken over your life. You didn’t know who to scream at anymore, who to blame, because everything felt like it was crumbling.

You wiped your tear-streaked face with the back of your hand, your breath shaky. The calendar sat motionless on the floor, a reminder of time slipping away, of promises not kept. And with it, a reminder of the haunting words Sylus had left you with, the ones that echoed in the hollow space inside your chest.

"This may be the last time we talk, kitten."

You sobbed, eyes turning toward the record player. You had been avoiding it. But now you longed for its song.

You sobbed, knees giving out as you slid to the floor, your body trembling with the weight of everything crashing down at once. The room spun around you, the tears blurring your vision, and for a moment, all you could do was sit there, letting the raw emotion pour out of you, your chest heaving with every breath.

Through the tears, your eyes drifted across the room, falling on the record player sitting in the corner, covered in a thin layer of dust. It had been sitting there for days, untouched, and you had purposefully ignored it, trying to avoid the haunting melody that had stirred too much inside you the first time. You’d been afraid of it—afraid of what the music had made you feel. Too much.

But now, as you sat there in the suffocating silence, the world collapsing around you, you longed for it. You longed for the song.

There was something in that music, something that had connected with you in a way nothing else here had. The haunting melody had pierced through the walls you’d built, allowing you to feel, really feel, in a place where emotions were a dangerous luxury. And now, in the midst of your grief and anger, you craved that connection again, that strange, bittersweet comfort.

Wiping at your tear-streaked face, you slowly pushed yourself up, your legs shaky beneath you as you staggered toward the record player. You hesitated for a moment, standing before it, your fingers hovering over the record that sat waiting, as if it had known you would come back.

Your hand trembled as you placed the needle on the record, the familiar crackling sound filling the room as it began to spin. For a moment, there was nothing but static, a brief, fragile pause before the music began.

And then, the first notes hit.

That hauntingly beautiful melody. It drifted through the room, filling the empty space with its ghostly echo. The sound wrapped around you, soft and delicate, but heavy with meaning, with emotion. The organs slow, mournful tune carried through the air, each note pulling at your heart, drawing out the feelings you had tried to bury.

You sank to the floor again, leaning against the wall, your head resting back as you let the music envelop you. The tears didn’t stop, but the sobs quieted, replaced by a deep, aching sadness. The melody tugged at your soul, a reminder of everything you had lost, everything that had been taken from you.

But in that sadness, there was a strange comfort. The music understood. It mirrored your pain, your frustration, your confusion. Every note felt like it was speaking directly to you, like the song itself was mourning with you.

The organ swelled, and your chest tightened, a fresh wave of tears threatening to spill over as the emotions surged again. But you didn’t fight it this time. You let the music carry you, let it take you wherever it wanted to go. There was no point in resisting anymore. You were tired of fighting.

As the melody continued, you closed your eyes, the sound pulling you deeper into its embrace. And for the first time in what felt like forever, you allowed yourself to truly feel everything. The sadness, the anger, the fear—it all poured out of you, spilling into the notes of the song.

Sylus’s absence still loomed over you, his words still echoed in your mind, but for now, the music dulled the edges of that pain. It was a small reprieve, a brief moment where the chaos of your mind quieted.

And even though the haunting melody was filled with sorrow, in this moment, it was exactly what you needed.

Sylus stepped into the room quietly, the soft click of the door unlocking barely audible over the faint hum of the record player. He exhaled slowly, exhaustion weighing heavy on him from days of endless travel, but as his eyes adjusted to the dim light, they landed on you, and the fatigue seemed to fade into the background.

There you were, curled up on the floor, fast asleep, your chest rising and falling in steady, peaceful breaths. The haunting melody from the record player filled the air, casting a strange, melancholic atmosphere over the room. Sylus’s gaze flickered to the spinning record and, with a small smirk, he turned the player off, cutting the music short. It pleased him to see you had actually played it.

For a moment, he simply stood there, watching you sleep. There was something oddly vulnerable about the way you lay there, your body relaxed in sleep, your face free of the tension that so often creased it when you were awake. His eyes traced the faint tear tracks on your cheeks, the puffiness around your eyes, the clear evidence that you had been crying.

You’ve been sobbing, he realized, his smirk fading as he studied you more closely. Dried tears clung to your skin, and your face looked stressed and worn, as if you’d been fighting a losing battle with your emotions for far too long. He could see it now—the exhaustion, the way your body seemed to have given up.

His gaze softened, lingering on you for a moment longer. You stirred slightly in your sleep, your eyelids fluttering as if caught in some dream. Your chest rose and fell in steady rhythm, and for the briefest moment, he allowed himself to simply observe the small details—the way your breath hitched every now and then, the way your lips parted slightly, the faint twitch of your fingers.

It was strange, this feeling. Sylus had seen you broken before, had seen the moments when you were at your most vulnerable, but watching you like this—so peaceful, yet so fragile—something else stirred in him. A flicker of something softer, something he quickly brushed away.

He stepped closer, kneeling beside you as he reached out to gently shake your shoulder. “Wake up, honey” he murmured softly.

Your eyes flew open, wide and startled at first, darting around the room in confusion before finally settling on him. For a split second, something flashed in your gaze—relief? But it was quickly replaced by something else. Worry? Concern?

Before he could say anything, you grimaced, your face twisting in discomfort, and then you were dry heaving. Instinctively, Sylus moved quickly, slipping his arms under you to help guide you toward the bathroom. The sudden movement caught you off guard, but he held you steady, his grip firm but not rough.

“Easy,” he said, his voice low as he helped you to the bathroom. You could barely focus, your body convulsing with the effort of dry heaving, but Sylus kept you upright, guiding you with surprising gentleness.

Once inside, you collapsed near the toilet, and he crouched beside you, watching as your body struggled against the nausea. His hand rested lightly on your back, a quiet, stabilizing presence as you fought to regain control.

One dry heave. Your body convulsed, a sharp, painful spasm that left you gasping for breath. Sylus's grip tightened slightly, his hand steady on your back as he helped guide you to the edge of the toilet. The nausea had been building for days, and now it was finally pushing its way out, relentless and overwhelming.

Then came another heave, your stomach twisting violently, your muscles contracting as if your body was trying to wring itself dry. Your vision blurred, and the room spun as you tried to fight it, but it was no use.

The final heave hit hard, and this time, you couldn’t hold it back. The contents of your stomach surged up, and you vomited into the toilet, your whole body trembling from the effort. The acrid taste burned in your throat as you retched, your eyes squeezing shut as tears leaked from the corners.

Sylus remained silent, his hand still resting on your back, his presence a quiet anchor in the chaos of the moment. He didn’t speak, didn’t react—just stayed there, watching as you emptied yourself, each convulsion wracking your already exhausted body.

When the retching finally subsided, your shoulders sagged, and you leaned against the toilet, your breath coming in shallow, ragged gasps. The nausea still lingered, but the worst had passed, leaving you feeling weak, drained, and raw. You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, still shaking, your entire body feeling like it might collapse at any moment.

Sylus knelt beside you, his gaze fixed on you, studying your every movement. There was no mocking smirk this time, no cruel amusement. Just a quiet, almost clinical focus as he watched you recover. His eyes flickered over your tear-streaked face, the sweat glistening on your skin, and the unmistakable exhaustion that had settled into every fiber of your being.

"Better?" he asked quietly, his voice softer than you expected.

You nodded weakly, though you weren’t sure if that was the truth. The nausea had faded, but your head was spinning, and your body felt foreign, like it didn’t belong to you anymore. You slumped back, resting against the cool tile floor, trying to steady your breath as the overwhelming fatigue took over.

“Were you so excited to see me that you threw up?” Sylus’s voice slipped out, laced with dark amusement as he eyed you laid on the bathroom floor. The corners of his lips tugged into a smirk as he watched your exhausted figure, trembling from the aftermath of your retching. The sight of you, so vulnerable yet still so defiant, stirred something in him. It was quite adorable.

Your head snapped up, eyes red and watery, and shot him a glare that would’ve been more effective if you weren’t barely holding yourself together. That was what he liked about you, though—you still had fire, even when everything else was crumbling.

“I hate you,” you muttered, barely audible, your voice weak and strained.

He chuckled, the sound low and rumbling in the quiet room. Of course you did. You’d spat those words at him more times than he could count, but they never carried the weight you thought they did. “I'm hurt, kitten,” he said, letting the pet name slip out with just enough bite to remind you of your place.

He shifted, straightening up slightly but still crouched beside you, watching the way your body slumped against the cool tile. You wiped at your mouth with the back of your hand again, trying to recover, but he could see how drained you were. Your limbs looked heavy, like they’d given up on you, and the flush of your cheeks told him you were still fighting that lingering nausea.

But it wasn’t just the exhaustion that interested him—it was the way you looked up at him, the fire still burning behind your eyes despite the tears and the clear discomfort. Even now, as broken as you were, you fought. That was what intrigued him, what kept him coming back to you.

He couldn’t help but chuckle again, this time quieter, more to himself. The sight of you like this, caught between rage and weakness, pulled at something in him. You didn’t want him here, and yet, your body still leaned into his support, still let him guide you when you needed it most. Whether you hated him or not didn’t matter. You still needed him.

He watched you for a moment longer, his eyes scanning your face, the way your chest heaved as you tried to catch your breath. The tear tracks were still fresh on your cheeks, and he could see that you’d been crying long before he’d arrived.

The silence stretched between you, and Sylus felt it settle—heavy, weighted with something more than just your physical exhaustion. He could feel it in the way you looked at him, as though you were grappling with something you didn’t want to admit. And then there was that brief flicker in your eyes, something that looked almost like relief before it shifted to concern.

It intrigued him. What were you so worried about?

He could see your body still trembling, and before you could react, your face twisted again, and you dry heaved once more. His amusement faded as his hands instinctively moved to help you, his grip firm but not rough, guiding you back toward the toilet just in time as you retched and gagged again.

“Don't fight it,” he murmured, his voice dropping into something quieter. For once, the teasing tone was gone. You were still shaking, still fighting the nausea, and he kept his hand on your back, steadying you as you vomited again, your whole body convulsing with the effort.

He knelt beside you, watching the way your frame trembled, the way your body seemed to be betraying you. His eyes narrowed slightly. Something was different—off. This wasn’t just exhaustion or sickness. He’d seen you in pain before, seen you in worse states, but this… this felt heavier.

He kept his hand on your back, waiting until your body stopped shaking, until you slumped again, too weak to do anything but rest against the cold tile.

"You okay?" he asked, keeping his voice low, though he doubted you had the energy to do much more than nod.

And sure enough, you gave a weak nod, not even trying to speak. He watched as your chest rose and fell, your breath coming in shallow gasps. The fight hadn’t left your eyes, but the exhaustion had taken over now, and he could see it in the way you struggled to keep yourself upright.

Sylus stared at you for a moment longer, something cold and calculating behind his eyes. You were breaking, yes, but not in the way he had expected. Something else was happening—something deeper, beyond the physical symptoms. He could feel it, a shift in the air between you.

Sylus remained there for a moment longer, his eyes tracing over your trembling form. You looked so small, so fragile in this moment, slumped against the cold tile with tear-streaked cheeks and watery eyes. The sight of you like this stirred something inside him—a mix of satisfaction and curiosity, though he wasn’t entirely sure which feeling dominated. He could see how much this had taken a toll on you, how every day without answers had chipped away at your resolve. But this? This was different. This was the moment he had been waiting for—the moment where the walls finally came down.

“I’ll be right back,” he said, keeping his tone even and composed as he turned away, heading toward the bathroom drawer. He could feel your eyes on him, glaring into his back with what little strength you had left. You were trying to hold onto that defiance, trying to summon some kind of fight, but he knew better. You were unraveling, and the truth of what he was about to show you would tear down whatever was left.

He rifled through the drawer, his movements slow and methodical, savoring the quiet tension building in the room. His fingers brushed past a few irrelevant items before closing around the small box. It felt almost anticlimactic, the weight of it so light in his hand, yet what it represented was monumental. He straightened and turned back toward you, holding the box just high enough for you to see.

Your reaction was immediate—your mouth opened in shock, and your eyes widened in horror as realization dawned. There it is, he thought, a small smirk tugging at his lips. He watched the shift in your expression with a quiet, controlled satisfaction. It was like watching a puzzle piece snap into place, watching you connect the dots and realize just how deep in this you really were.

“No…” you whispered, your voice cracking, barely more than a breath. The desperation clung to your words, and for a fleeting moment, Sylus felt something akin to pity stir in his chest. But he quickly brushed it aside. This is how it has to be. He knew it. You were spiraling, trying to cling to the lie that everything was normal, that your body hadn’t betrayed you in the way you feared most.

“No, I’m not pregnant,” you whimpered, shaking your head as tears started to spill down your cheeks. “I’m just sick…I'm just sick...”

Why lie to yourself?, he thought, though there was no cruelty in those words. He didn’t enjoy seeing you like this—no, not quite. But there was something about your vulnerability, something about watching you come to terms with this new reality, that intrigued him. You were always so strong, so determined to fight him at every turn, and now, with this one tiny box in his hand, he had you crumbling.

Tears poured from your eyes now, and your voice wavered as you kept trying to convince yourself, to convince him, that this wasn’t real. That you were just sick, that this was something else, something manageable. He could see the panic rising in you, the way your hands trembled, the way your breath hitched between sobs.

But Sylus just watched, his eyes soft, yet calculating. He wasn’t surprised by your reaction—he’d anticipated it, even counted on it. You weren’t ready to accept the truth yet. That’s why he was here. To guide you into it. To show you that, whether you wanted it or not, you were his in ways you hadn’t even realized.

He stepped toward you, his movements slow, deliberate. Kneeling back down, he reached out and wiped the tears from your face, his touch unnervingly tender. The way he was looking at you displayed the same tenderness but also something else. Control, This was control—calm, steady control. He had been waiting for this moment for weeks, watching the signs, knowing where this was all leading.

“Only one way to find out, honey,” he murmured, his voice soft, soothing. Like he was comforting a child. He could feel your fear, could see the way you were choking on the sobs that kept spilling from you. But there was no rush. He had all the time in the world.

He watched the panic bloom in your eyes, the way the tears kept coming, your body shaking with the effort of holding back the reality you didn’t want to face. It fascinated him—the sheer desperation in your every movement. The fear of being tied to him in a way you couldn’t escape, in a way that would bind you together forever.

She’s terrified, he thought, his thumb brushing away more of your tears. But beneath that terror, there was something else—a kind of inevitability. You already knew. Deep down, you must have known. He could see it now, in the way your sobs became more frantic, the way your body shook as the weight of the truth crashed over you. You weren’t just crying from fear anymore. You were crying because this was real.

The satisfaction he felt wasn’t born of cruelty. It was born of the quiet control he had over you now, a control that went beyond the physical, beyond the chain that kept you tethered here. This was a different kind of control—one that reached into your mind, your soul. And it was deeper than anything he had ever seen in you before.

As you burst into sobs, your whole body trembling with the force of your breakdown, Sylus stayed right there, crouched beside you, his thumb tracing slow circles on your skin. He didn’t say anything else. He didn’t need to. The box sat between you like a looming reminder of what was coming, and he knew there was no turning back from this.

Watching you crumble like this, completely undone by something as small as a pregnancy test, brought a strange sense of finality to the moment. You were his now. Not in the way you had been before—this was something more permanent, more inescapable.

All that was left was to confirm it. Show you its real.

And as your sobs wracked your body, Sylus watched with soft, patient eyes, knowing that no matter how much you cried, no matter how much you resisted, there was only one way out.

The truth.

[lymtw]

Hi ! This is my first time requesting something on Tumblr and I don't know if your requests are open, but if they are could you please write something about Toji where f!reader is his girlfriend (long term) and she gets in a small argument with young megumi in which he says she's not his mom (which she isn't, but she still kinda raised him with Toji). She gets sad and Toji comforts her and maybe scolds megumi and it's fluffy at the end ?

I hope it's not too confusing 😅 and if you don't want to do it it's completely okay ! I really like the way you write Toji and your works are so good !

A/N: Ngl I actually kinda teared up a little when I was thinking out the scenario for this. Don't judge me, it was like 2am-ish lol. This prompt is so good 😭🫶🏼

Thank you for sending in this request 💙

Toji could hear bickering coming from outside your shared bedroom, familiar voices going back and forth over who knows what in the room next door. He tried to roll over and go back to sleep, because he trusted that it would be over soon. You're an adult talking to a kid. Your logic is sharper than Megumi's, so things should be resolved quickly. His eyes shut again, but the arguing wouldn't cease. Who knows how long this has gone on for.

He sighs and blinks his tired eyes open, before getting out of bed to see what all the commotion is about at eight in the morning. He grabs his shirt from the end of the bed and slips it on, over his head, as he walks over Megumi's room. Your voices are much clearer to Toji, now, as he nears the door. He stands by to listen in on what's going on.

"I just organized your room, Megumi. All i'm asking you to do is to put your toys back where they belong when you're not playing with them."

"I am playing with them," the boy says, holding two dinosaur figures. "I'm playing with all of them. I'm gonna go back to the ones over there, right now."

You sigh. The argument has been looping this way for too long. It feels pointless to argue with a child, yet you're still doing it because deep down, it irks you to have put in so much effort to keep his space clean, just for him to trash it the second he occupies the room, again.

"Let's see." You start looking around the floor for toys you know for certain he hasn't been playing with. "You're not playing with this plushie or this car. This slinky isn't being used either and it's gonna get tangled if you don't put it somewhere safe."

The boy groans, tired of hearing you list off things you see out of place on the floor. He goes back to playing with the dinosaurs in his hands, blocking out your voice.

"Megumi, are you even listening to me?" You ask, setting some of the smaller toys you collected off the floor onto the top of his dresser.

"I don't want to and I don't have to," he utters, carelessly, not even sparing you a glance. "You're not my mom, so I don't have to listen to you. Just my dad."

You're stunned by this sudden revelation of his feelings towards you. The argument is over. Megumi was the winner because he got you to back off, but at what cost? Your heart weighed a ton after what he said. You had nothing else to say to him in that moment, so you let go of your end of the tug of war rope.

Toji hears your footsteps nearing the door and makes himself known by appearing as you're heading out.

"Hey." He attempts to grab your attention, but you don't even look at him. You pat his chest twice and leave the room. He takes a step out of the room, calling for you once more as you get farther away from him. "Ma." All he gets is a thumbs up from you as you keep walking, an indication of how you're not emotionally stable enough to respond verbally.

Toji sighs, briefly watching Megumi, who still hasn't stopped playing with his toys. He's completely unaware of what just went down.

He steps further into the room, sitting down on the edge of the bed, next to his mini.

"Megs, that wasn't cool." He receives a hum in response. "Why would you say something like that?"

Megumi's hands still. He briefly looks at his dad before resuming what he was doing. "Like what? I was just in here, playing with my toys," he says, feigning innocence, not knowing that Toji had been listening.

"I heard what you said and it wasn't nice at all. She's always been good to you."

"But what I said is true," he exclaims, his expressive, green eyes widening, defensively.

"Okay, let's calm down. I'm not raising my voice, am I?"

Megumi slowly shakes his head. He puts down the dinosaur toys and crosses his legs, folding his hands in his lap.

"I want you to look at it this way," Toji starts, looking around at the room you were once so proud of for returning to a pristine state, now cluttered with various toys and clothes. "She's always been here for you. She takes care of you when I have to go to work, she reads to you before bed, she wakes up to make you breakfast. You like when she makes breakfast, right?"

The boy nods. "I like when she makes dog shaped pancakes."

"Yeah, me too. You think she's gonna wanna be around and make dog shaped pancakes for us if you talk to her like that?"

Megumi shakes his head. "No, but she wouldn't stop telling me to clean up my toys when I told her that i'm still playing with them."

"Well, I only see you playing with this little pool of toys, here on the bed. Everything else is just scattered all over the place. You know she worked hard to clean this place up, right?"

"Mm... yeah," he responds, coyly.

"You're like a tornado, Megs," he says, causing the fluffy-haired boy to laugh. "Yeah, it's pretty funny, huh?" Megumi keeps laughing while nodding which makes Toji crack a grin.

"I'm sorry," Megumi mumbles, once he settles down. He looks down at the palm of his hand, tracing the lines on it with his thumb.

"That's not for me to hear, kid," Toji says, setting a hand on his head.

"But, i'm scared to tell her. What if she's mad at me?" He turns his head to look at his dad, eyes darting between matching green eyes and the scar that mars his lips.

"Nah, she loves you too much to ever get mad at you. How 'bout I go see what she's doing, and you draw something to give to her? When you're ready to give her your drawing, you can come out, yeah?"

"Okay." Megumi nods. "I'll go out there when i'm ready."

"Alright. See you in a bit. Love you."

"Love you, too, dad," he responds, a slight tint of red on his cheeks.

Toji leaves him to it, leaving the door slightly ajar when he exits the room. He immediately directs himself towards you. You didn't hide or hole up in the room, instead you went to the couch. Toji sits next to you, watching you scroll through your phone.

"Hey, you good?" He asks, watching your face as you turn your screen off and shift your attention to him.

You sigh. "Yeah, it's fine. It's not like he lied."

"Don't say that. You know he's wrong." He puts a hand on your knee, squeezing comfortingly. "He's still a brat that doesn't know the weight of his words. Thinks he can just fire out things like that and move on like it's nothing. As long as i'm here, he won't get away with saying ridiculous things like that to you."

"Yeah," you say, still sounding disheartened.

"I talked to him about it. The kid was just pissed that you called him out for the mess he made. He just wanted to be right, with zero logical thoughts in that head."

You nod, not wanting to say anything more about it. Everything Toji said was correct, but you still felt like you were tossed aside, in that moment. Like you were a puzzle piece that didn't fit into their family.

"Don't be bummed about it, baby. You know he loves you, and remember, he has called you 'mom' before."

That brings a smile to your face. You remember how shy he got after realizing what he said. The word slipped out so naturally. You treated him like you normally do, but on the inside you were all giddy and proud to be considered a maternal figure by him.

"There you go. There's that pretty smile," Toji says, grinning as he pulls you close.

"Stop," you say, blushing when he starts peppering your face with kisses. You giggle when he starts chasing your lips, eventually giving you the warm, comforting kisses he wanted to give you.

You push his face away when you hear the door to Megumi's room creak, followed by Megumi himself. He takes slow steps out of the hallway and when he sees you and Toji staring at him, he gets nervous. All the attention is on him so he diverts his gaze and looks down at the floor until he's standing in front of you two. His face is red and his hands are behind his back. Toji knows what he's hiding and he smiles.

"What's up, Megs?" You ask, when he just stands there, silently.

He shifts on his feet, looking at you and then at his dad, before looking at you once more. His arms come forward and his hands shakily extend a folded piece of paper towards you.

"For me?" You ask, enthusiastically, to which he nods before looking down at his feet, again. You unfold the paper and take in the whole page of bright colors. Toji looks at it over your shoulder, a soft smile resting on his face when he sees the genuine effort that was put into the page. The first thing you notice is the big 'I'm sorry' written in his jagged and uneven handwriting, followed by a heart that you can tell he redrew multiple times based on the faded outlines behind it. There's a drawing of two simplistic dogs and what looks like the flowers you put on the dinner table. There are three stick figures that resemble you, Toji, and Megumi. You smile when you see that he didn't miss Toji's scar. He used the top corner of the page to draw the sun and there are different colored stars all over the place.

"Aw, I love it! Can I keep it forever?" You ask, smiling when you look at his adorable blush-y expression.

"Yeah, I made it for you," he mumbles, shiny eyes looking back at you.

You fold the paper, carefully, making sure to follow along the crease he already made, and set it down beside you.

"Can I have a hug?" You ask, reaching your arms out. He nods and makes his way over to you, his small arms coming up short as they wrap around you. Your embrace envelops him entirely. He's nonexistent in your hold because of how small he is. You squeeze him a little tighter, causing him to giggle at the gesture. "Love you soooo much, Megs." Before you release him, you give him a small peck on the cheek. "How about some pancakes for breakfast?"

"Can you make them in the shapes of dogs, again?" He asks, tapping his foot, excitedly.

"Of course, I can," you respond, and he gets even more excited.

"Dad! D-Dad! Dad! She's gonna make dog shaped pancakes, dad!"

"Yeah, I heard," Toji responds, a dumb grin on his face. "You should help her out, today."

"Okay," Megumi says, before sprinting to the kitchen.

"I should go help him before he gets the kitchen messy, too," you say, rising from the couch when the boy quickly vanishes.

"Hey, come here," Toji says, pulling you back by your wrist. You're pulled down for some quick kisses, a continuation of the session that was interrupted earlier.

"Love you, doll," he says, his eyes flitting between your starry ones and that smile that makes him weak.

"Love you." He doesn't let go of your hand until the link breaks, once you're out of his reach.

[zepskies]

Hey could I please request headcanons for how Dean would react to reader texting him "she's busy" as a joke, yk kind of like

Dean: Hey baby

Reader: She's busy

I really hope this makes sense and isn't so confusing 😭😭

Ooh I think I know what you mean. 😏

Pairing: Dean Winchester x F. Reader Word Count: 850

Imagine: Texting Dean when he's on a hunt.

Once again, Dean sighed while he waited on his brother.

They were stopped at a 7-Eleven gas station after a hunt, but Dean had long ago filled up Baby's tank. Sam was inside, grabbing a few snacks for the road tomorrow. Supposedly.

Dean fished out his phone from his pocket and texted him.

Hey, Driving Miss Daisy. You good in there?

A couple of minutes later, Sam responded.

Yeah, just getting a few things.

Dean rolled his eyes. Right.

For half an hour? What, you taking a shit or something?

Sam's response was testy, just as Dean predicted.

Dean, give me a minute. Jesus.

Dean sighed, with a roll of his eyes. He scrolled back into his texts and found your name. He was a couple of states over from Lebanon, but still within the same timezone. You should still be awake back at the bunker.

He decided he wanted to hear your voice, let you know that he and Sam were going to catch one more night of rest here at the motel before they made the long drive back home.

But...you didn't answer when he called.

Weird. You were typically a night owl, either watching something or plugging away at your laptop. He tried texting you instead.

Hey, baby. You up?

He eventually saw the three gray dots pop up. You were typing...

She's busy.

Dean frowned. What the hell?

Had you invited someone over? Like Jody or Donna?

But neither of them would've replied like that...so he texted back.

Stop messing around.

Dean tried calling you again, but it went directly to voicemail this time. In came another text from "you."

She'll call you back, dude.

Dean's jaw ticked with annoyance. And despite himself, unease began to creep in and churn his stomach.

What the fuck is this?

She's in the shower. I'll tell her to call you back, no worries.

All right. WHO is this?

Ooh, are you the boyfriend? Yikes lol.

A deep, slow breath made it through Dean's nose. He closed his eyes, counted to ten, reminded himself that he did, in fact, love you.

Then he responded.

Babe, if you don't call me in the next 30 seconds, there's gonna be hell to pay when I get home.

Dean checked his watch and actually counted. About ten seconds passed before his phone rang with an incoming call...from you. He answered.

"Promise?" came your teasing voice. When it ended on a giggle, Dean rolled his eyes and rested his head back on the seat. He blew out a frustrated breath.

"Oh, trust and believe. You're gonna fuckin' get it this time," he said, though his lips curved on a reluctant smirk. You full on laughed at him then.

"You make it too easy," you replied.

He knew this. It wasn't the first time you'd teased him, and he knew it wouldn't be the last.

Still, he couldn't help being a bit irritated this time.

"You know, how would you like it if I did that to you?" he asked. "Wouldn't be so fucking funny then, would it?"

"...Okay. You're right. I'm sorry, baby," came your more contrite voice. But he could still hear your smile. Could imagine the way you might soothe a hand along his arm, if you were here.

"How about I make it up to you?" you offered.

That worked a slow smirk onto his face. "Yeah? What did you have in mind?"

For the next few minutes, you purred into his ear about all the things you'd been thinking of while he was gone. Daydreaming about the talents of his hands, lips, and tongue.

In particular, you reminded him about a certain birthday wish that he still hadn't claimed from a couple weeks ago, when he and Sam got wind of this hunt.

Two weeks really was too damn long, in your opinion. (He agreed with you.)

Now with a half-straining bulge in his jeans, Dean licked his lips and tightened his hand on the leather wheel of the car.

"All right. Sounds like a plan to me, sweetheart," he said, deceptively breezy. As if you'd just told him you planned to make tacos for dinner.

"When are you getting home?" you asked.

He heard the tone of your voice, like black silk. It sent a tendril of heat down his spine, raising the hairs on his forearms.

"Tonight," Dean said. Deeper, a note of gravel in his words. "I'll see you tonight."

"Good." Once again, he heard the smile in your voice. "I love you."

He sighed, and raised a hand to card through his hair.

"Love you too...even though you play too fucking much," he muttered the latter bit.

Your laughter once again reached his ears, reluctantly making him smile.

He hung up with you just before Sam finally opened the passenger seat door and climbed in with two hefty grocery bags. Did he do a whole damn shopping spree in there?

...Whatever. Dean shook his head and started the car.

"Change of plan," he said. "We're heading home."

"What? Thought we were gonna catch a few hours of sleep. It's a long drive, Dean," Sam said, earning his brother's gaze.

"Yeah, well, you'll live," Dean snarked. A more devious grin spread across his face. "I've got a date."

And she's about to get punished.

The Impala's tires screeched as Dean pulled out of the parking lot and onto the main road.

AN: Ha! This one was fun. 😘 Thanks for the prompt!

Dean Winchester Imagines

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Dean W. Tag List:

@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @spnexploration @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @iprobablyshipit91

@melancholictearz @nic-kolas @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @just-levyy @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @lacilou @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman @brianochka @branj19

@agalliasi @venicesem @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @xsophianicolex @deansbbyx @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @ultrahviolentart @chernayawidow @beskarfilms @mimaria420

[certaimromance]

࣪ ִֶָ☾. Love or seal?

Dean Winchester x Fem!reader

Summary: An avenging spirit is killing married couples, so the Winchesters think it's a good idea to use you to pretend to be one and take down the ghost. But the act becomes all too real before you know it.

Words: 1,8k.

TW: mentions of murder, death, violence. so much teasing. a little of angst with happy ending. dean from the early seasons but soft and chaotic (a bit simp). sam being cupid and forgotten lol. english isn't my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).

Note: I've always been a Dean girl and I'm so excited about this. I love the concept of "Frenemies to Lovers" with its more playful and cutie version from the earlier seasons, I hope I described it well.

This is my second time writing here, i'm still new.

♡ Enjoy! ♡

You took another look in the mirror and walked a few laps around the dingy motel room, trying to swallow the act. It seemed ironic to wear such a fancy dress and high heels in a place like this, but it was all so you could solve the case and prevent more deaths. After all, it was your job to catch the ghosts and put them to rest.

It had been a long time since you'd been out on a date or worn anything other than your usual jeans and leather jacket. Buying yourself a cute dress and wedding rings with one of your fake cards had been entertaining, the closest thing to a normal life you'd had in years.

“Come in, I need help with the zipper on my dress.” You said after hearing a couple of knocks on your door.

You were still standing in front of the bathroom mirror, waiting for Sam to show up to help you so the two of you could leave soon for the restaurant where you both had reserved a table. The strange thing was that the cold hands you felt running down your back and zipping you up were not his, but those of his older brother.

“What are you doing here? Where is Sam?” You turned around to look at Dean once your dress was closed. It was then that you noticed he was wearing a suit and the ring.

“In the room.” He replied, moving closer to you so he could look at himself in the mirror and adjusting his tie with difficulty, he was not used to wearing one at all and felt suffocated.

“Why are you dressed like that?” You asked him after looking him over from head to toe and inevitably biting your lower lip. He looked good, all dressed up and dapper, you could even smell the scent of cologne wafting off him.

“I'll be your husband for tonight.” Dean smiled at you.

You frowned when you heard that the younger Winchester would no longer be your fake husband, because that was not what you had all agreed upon. Sam had always been more husband material, and you trusted him enough to have some physical contact if necessary. On the other hand, you saw Dean as someone who was far from the prototypical perfect partner, and you could barely talk to him without arguing about your differences, never having touched him except for sparring practice or taking away the gun he kept stealing from you. You couldn't deny that both brothers were attractive, but they were almost equally far from meaning anything romantic to you.

“We flipped a coin and I got the job.” He added to the explanation, noticing the confusion on your face.

Finally you nodded, realizing that once again they had not been able to reach an agreement and had had to put luck in the middle for the choice of roles. You didn't mind going with Dean, you had already been on several hunts with him and trusted his skills, but having to impersonate his wife was weird.

“Can you...?” He tried to ask you, pointing at his tie and all the trouble it caused him.

You let out a small laugh at seeing him so confused over a simple tie and went over to him to take it off. You had to tie it all over again because of how badly he had done it before.

“This looks very wife.” He commented as he saw the delicacy with which you were trying to fix his mess.

“I hope the spirit feels the same and is looking forward to slaughtering us.” You replied, taking a step away from him as you finished.

You two said a quick goodbye to Sam and then hopped into the Impala, which took you to a shiny restaurant near the road where the ghost appeared.

“Don't embarrass me, please.” You said to him as soon as you both sat down at the table and placed your order.

“How could I, darling?” He smiled innocently at you and took your hand on the table, caressing the ring on your finger.

You didn't say anything, just smiled back and kept your thoughts to yourself. You couldn't believe he actually called you that, sounding almost like a husband, even though you knew it was because of the acting, it gave you a funny feeling in your stomach. The most you'd gotten from Dean Winchester in all the years you'd known him was a "good job" and a strange smile, followed by a lot of questions about your careless decisions. You alone were far enough away from marriage, let alone someone like him.

“You look very handsome tonight.” You told him as you saw he was drinking water, causing him to almost spit it out in surprise.

Usually you never complimented him, barely looked him in the eye, talked about anything other than hunting, or even laughed at his jokes. It seemed that his presence didn't matter much to you because your interests were more aligned with Sam's and you got along better with him. That bothered Dean a lot, he hated being so invisible in your eyes.

Now, however, you didn't take your eyes off him and even gave him compliments that left him speechless to continue the performance.

“At least the food is good.” You said absentmindedly as the waiter brought the plates.

“And the company?”

You looked into his eyes, trying to understand if he was playing with you or if he was really hurt by your lack of emotion. The strange thing was that you didn't know if it was one or the other, his greenish gaze was a mystery.

“The best company, of course.” You gave him a smile and picked up your glass of wine to make a small toast.

“How affectionate you are now.”

“Yes, I feel almost as if today is the last day of my life.” You said with irony.

Dinner went off without a hitch in a quiet and strangely pleasant atmosphere. You couldn't help but be surprised by Dean's friendliness, it was the first time you had a civilized conversation with him. The first time he held your hand and you noticed how green his eyes were.

Suddenly, everything he said, silly or not, made you smile. The only rational thing to do was to attribute it to the glass of wine he had decided to drink. In general, you didn't allow yourself to drink alcohol, let alone in the middle of a hunt. But now, for some reason, you thought it would help your nerves and relax you a bit.

“Where did you leave the car?” You asked once they left the site and the time to travel the road of death was approaching.

“In the corner over there...I hope.” He answered without really being sure. For him, it had all happened so fast when you two arrived.

“My feet hurt. Don't play with me now.” You said, hating the high heels you were wearing.

At that moment, the hunter stopped and motioned for you to sit on the bench by the exit. Unsure, you obeyed and frowned as he knelt down to gently remove your shoes.

“Happy now?” He asked he asked, holding your heels in his hands.

“I can't walk barefoot.” You claimed, putting on a fake sad face and lowering your gaze to his arms.

Dean shook his head instantly.

“No, don't even think that I'll carry you.” He warned confidently, folding his arms.

A few minutes later, he was silently leading you to the car, snorting at every opportunity to give in so easily to your wishes.

“This looks very husband.” You pointed out with a smile and a teasing tone.

“I would offer you to the spirit right now.” He replied, looking at you with narrowed eyes.

“How lovely you are, my dear.”

The two finally got into the car and headed for the exit. Dean had received a message from his brother telling him that he had found the name of the ghost woman and her grave with her husband, who was the cause of all his resentment against happily married couples, and to top it off, he was buried on top of her.

“Sam is going to burn the grave and everything will be fine.” He said trying to comfort you as he saw the concern on your face. “Maybe the woman doesn't want to kill anyone today.”

“You have too much faith in a murderous spirit.” You sighed and tried to remove the ring from your finger, but it stuck. “And you should take the ring off.”

“Are we getting divorced so soon?” He replied in a joking tone, with his eyes on the road.

You looked at him seriously, this was no time for jokes because everything was going wrong. If Sam didn't dig up those bones soon, they were probably going to kill you both and the plan was going to fail completely. It was supposed to be easy and you were terrified that it wasn't anymore.

“Come on, don't be like that. You were laughing so hard with me.” He smiled at you.

Before you could respond, a pale woman in a blood-stained wedding dress appeared in the back seat. You could barely say Dean's name when the ghost's hand came around your neck and began to choke you. After a few moments, you couldn't even breathe and everything became a blur.

You didn't want to die, at least not at that moment. Not without having lived a life as good as the night before everything went to hell. You still had too many things to do to go like that, let alone in front of him, you couldn't let that happen.

“Don't move.” The hunter said to you before drawing his gun and disputing you to the back seat.

The ghost disappeared for a few seconds and then reappeared just ahead of the road. A braking maneuver as the woman was beginning to burn in front of the two of you almost made you jump out of your seat.

Sam had succeeded.

“Are you okay?” Dean asks, looking at you with concern.

“Yeah.” You said, still trying to catch your breath and process everything that had happened.

“And my thanks for saving you and not letting death part us?”

At any other time, you would have simply made a sarcastic comment and emphasized that it was all thanks to her brother. However, the recent experience had changed something in you and made you kiss his cheek.

Before you could completely pull your face away from his, he put his hand on your cheek and pulled you close. You felt his lips move over yours and responded without hesitation. A big part of you had been thinking about this moment all night and was more than happy it was happening. It was like the perfect ending to a fake marriage date, minus the killer ghost part, and it made you smile in the middle of it.

“You didn't flip any coin, did you?” You asked as you broke away from the kiss for a second.

“No, I didn't.” He admitted, leaving a kiss on your head and making you smile even more.

[dandylovesturtles]

alright, here it is: part 3 of the still untitled Room Fic! and boy is it long... this might be as long as parts 1 and 2 put together.

Content warnings for this part: vomit, serious discussion of food issues, internalized ableism, everyone being a little bit dumb

I am not a doctor and my meal plan for Leo is extremely lightly researched (mainly because it's hard to find information that would be helpful in Leo's situation but that isn't highly technical). in the end I went with what I like from a narrative standpoint. if someone starves as long as Leo did please get them to an actual doctor lol.

also I got tired and didn't proofread the last few sections.

just a warning that I'm going on vacation next week and will be out of the country for awhile so don't expect any more for this for quite some time. in the meantime, hope you enjoy this!

and if you're confused, start here!

-----

Leo wakes up.

The room is moving. His head is cradled in someone's lap. There's a furry hand stroking his arm, and a voice hums the notes of a lullaby he hasn't heard since he was a child.

-----

Leo wakes up.

He's lying somewhere soft and blessedly warm. There's a weight across his chest. Someone is chattering in his ear, happy and upbeat, saying something to him about Jupiter Jim on the desert planet Delta-5.

-----

Leo wakes up.

He's still somewhere soft but now it's too hot. He whines and pushes at the things on his chest. Near his ear someone tuts, and then a hand lands on his, giving it a squeeze.

"Nardo, you need to warm up. Don't-"

-----

Leo wakes up, and his eyes open.

"Leo?" comes Raph's voice. Leo blinks to clear his vision, then lets his eyes trail up, to find his big brother bending over him. "You awake for real this time?"

He isn't sure. Raph being here sure feels like a dream.

He lowers his eyes and looks around. He's not home. He doesn't recognize this place at all, actually. But the walls are beige (still unstimulating, but at least not white), the furniture is dark brown, the bed (not a cot) has a blue bedspread, the empty takeout containers on the table have a splash of red. It's not home, but it's not the room, either.

If he were going to dream, surely he'd just picture himself back home.

He blinks back up at Raph, and smiles.

"Wide awake," he says, echoing Raph from before.

Raph bursts into tears, immediately leaning down and wrapping Leo up in one of his signature hugs. For the first time in so many days (longer, longer, Leo can't remember the last time he got a Raph hug like this), Leo feels completely secure, fully enveloped in love and affection, held safe by his big brother where no one can hurt him.

The difference between this moment and the last week and a half is so stark it leaves Leo feeling dizzy. Like he hadn't even realized how scared and lonely and helpless he truly felt until all that pain was taken away. He's safe now. He's okay now. Raph is hugging him.

Leo hates crying in front of people, but even he can't be stoic for this.

"Oh Leo," says Raph softly once he realizes. "It's okay. We got'cha."

Leo sniffs, burying his face in Raph's plastron. He wishes he could hug back, but his limbs feel so heavy, like Donnie swapped them out for metal versions when he wasn't looking. So he can't hug back, but he leans in close and hopes that's enough.

They get about a minute to hug before Mikey is worming his way in between them, wriggling to push his arms past Raph's and around Leo for himself. "No fair, you got to hold him earlier!" Mikey declares, his voice thick with tears.

"You got to hug him earlier," Raph argues.

"He was asleep, it doesn't count!" Mikey hits back, and Leo laughs and shifts so Mikey can better get in the middle. Raph sighs exaggeratedly, but he gives Leo a pat and leans back to let Mikey in.

Mikey hugs even tighter than Raph, nuzzling in against Leo's shoulder. "I missed you," he says, then gives a choked sob he tries to bury.

"Missed you too," Leo promises, craning his neck so he can land a big smooch on Mikey's head. That replaces the sobs with relieved giggles that leave Leo feeling so much lighter.

After another minute, Mikey moves back and looks over at Donnie, who's been standing at the side of the bed wringing his hands. "Your turn, Donald."

Donnie makes a grumpy noise at having been perceived, but when Leo gets a look at his face he sees Donnie has tears shimmering in his eyes, too. They break free once Donnie's arms are around him, trickling onto the skin of Leo's shoulder.

"Crying over me, Don-ton?" he teases, even as his own voice is thick with emotion.

"Shut up, Nardo," Donnie snaps back, but his voice cracks at the end and he holds on even tighter.

"Alright, my turn," says April once Donnie starts to loosen his grip, and Donnie obligingly crawls off the bed, swiping at his eyes. Like he's looking for something to busy himself with, he starts throwing away the takeout containers on the table. They must be empty.

Leo tears his eyes away just as April swoops in to wrap him up in his fourth hug of the hour, giving him a kiss on his forehead as she does. "Hey, Leo. How're you feelin'?"

"Happy to see you," he says again, and she squeezes him tighter. "Kinda hot."

"That's the hypothermia talking," says Donnie. April shushes him.

"Hypothermia?" Leo asks. April pulls back so she can see his face.

"It wasn't that bad," she says quickly. "You'd started brumating, we think... Tromping around in the snow didn't help, though."

"Not to mention you used up the last of your energy portaling us out of there," Mikey chimes in. "It was really cool though!"

Leo laughs. "Thanks, little brother." Even with the containers thrown away, the smell of the takeout is thick in the room. Leo guesses they had Japanese. It can't have been that long ago. "Where are we?"

"Motel room about two hours down the road." April slides to sit next to him, keeping one arm wrapped around his shoulders. Her body heat is warm in a more pleasant way than the blankets, and he leans into it. "We wanted to go further, but we needed to get you warmed up."

"A motel...? Huh." Leo looks around again. This is his first time being in a hotel that isn't owned by Big Mama. He wonders how far it is from the Japanese place. Just, like, average delivery time. "What happened? It's... kind of a blur for me." He laughs.

They launch into the story without any more prompting. It all sounds like what Leo expected. Raph led the team. Donnie did science stuff. Mikey razzed his tazz. April used her investigative skills.

They tracked him all the way down to Colorado (that explains the snow) and broke him out. They floored it away from the EPF, got far enough they felt safe, then booked into a motel under April's name. That's where they've been since. Splinter and Draxum are out now, patrolling to make sure they weren't followed or discovered.

It's quite the story. And Leo knows he should be paying more attention than he is.

It's just, the takeout boxes. The smell coming from them is so strong, or maybe Leo is just abnormally sensitive to it. He thinks someone had steak, and someone else had fish. The fried rice had egg in it. His mouth is watering so badly he has to swallow every few seconds.

"Leo?" calls Mikey, and Leo startles, ripping his eyes from the trash can to look at Mikey's face. He's gripping the bedspread so hard his knuckles are cramping. He realizes this is not the first time Mikey said his name. Great, now they know he wasn't paying attention.

"Ah, sorry," he says quickly. "I didn't mean to zone out." He flashes them all the biggest smile he can, so they don't worry. "I was just, uh..."

He trails off, not sure of a way to say that he was completely distracted by the smell of their already eaten Japanese food without making it awkward.

"Sorry, Leo, we know you're tired," says Raph, reaching over and rubbing his head. "You can go back to sleep. We're not leaving for awhile."

Go back to sleep? Leo doubts he can, what with the hunger an empty yawning hole inside him. It had been muted while the cold and the exhaustion took over, but now that he's warmer and more rested his body is very painfully reminding him he still has another problem.

He's trying to come up with a casual way to approach the subject when his stomach does it for him, gurgling and growling loud enough that everyone hears it. Leo is very glad his blushes don't show up as easily as humans' do.

"Uh... heh heh." He scratches at his own cheek, then stops when he feels how disturbingly hollowed out it is. "Before that... are there any leftovers?"

Everyone's staring at him. Leo's too tired to puzzle out why they're all staring at him. Maybe there really aren't any leftovers? He did just watch Donnie throw everything away. Maybe there were some, but now they'd have to fish it out of the trash. Leo wants to say he'd happily eat it out of the trash, but that would be really weird and they'd stare at him even more.

(But he would eat it out of the trash. He may be too proud to say it out loud, but he can admit it to himself.)

"O-or," he says quickly, to fill the silence after his last question, "if... if it's not too much trouble, can you ask Dad and Barry to bring something with them when they come back? Even if it's just something from a gas station, or..." They're still staring, and Leo feels himself starting to ramble desperately, "Or if it's too late, I can just... I can just go back to sleep, hah, but... but can someone at least wake me up so I don't miss breakfast?"

His family stutters back to life at that. Raph gives a furious shake of his head and says, "Forget breakfast," which makes Leo's heart and stomach lurch painfully. Waiting until lunch? That feels like forever away.

But then Raph continues with, "Leo, why didn't you tell us you're hungry right now?"

Leo falters. "Uh... just... didn't want to interrupt the flow of the conversation," he says, which is true, but the way everyone is looking at him now, he's pretty sure it's the wrong answer.

"Please," says April, tone very close to exasperated, "interrupt the conversation."

"Will do," says Leo. But he's still not sure what to do, because no one has told him when food is coming.

(You want this? You beg for it.)

Before he can spin out on that thought, Mikey jumps off the bed and heads for the mini-fridge that Leo hadn't noticed until now. He yanks open the door and pulls out two takeout containers, a box and a cylindrical container.

"We weren't sure what you felt up to, so we got you steak hibachi and miso soup," Mikey says, waving each container in turn.

The thought of having to actually chew and swallow sounds exhausting, so Leo says, "Soup's fine." And then, just in case, he adds hastily, "Please."

"Okay," says Mikey, and even though he's clearly trying to sound upbeat, Leo can hear the strain in his voice. "Just give me a minute to heat it up for you!"

Leo would eat it cold. Leo would eat it frozen. But he bites that back and waits.

Mikey puts it in the microwave on top of the fridge. Every little tick down on the timer feels like it takes three eternities. The rest of his family seems to feel the tension as much as he does.

"April!" says Donnie abruptly, too loud to be natural. "You wanted to see what's on the sci-fi channel!"

"Thaaat's right!" she says, also a little too loudly. "I did. Hand me the remote."

Donnie gives her the remote. She turns on the TV just as the microwave dings.

Mikey yanks the door open as soon as it does, pulling the bowl out with no regard for how hot it is. He gives it a perfunctory blow to cool it down, then hurries over to the bed, pausing only to grab a plastic spoon off a little pile of utensils on the table.

He hands both the bowl and spoon to Leo, but Leo already knows his arms won't be able to maneuver the spoon, so he lets it fall into his lap, in favor of lifting the entire container to his lips. He hopes he doesn't look too pathetically eager as he tilts it back and takes his first sip.

It's good.

It's so good he starts crying.

It's not even the best miso soup he's ever had. In fact, it's a little too oily and nowhere near as good as the kind his dad makes, or what Mikey is capable of. But it doesn't matter. It wouldn't matter if this was the worst soup in the world, because right now it's the best thing Leo has ever tasted.

He may be crying more over this than he did over hugs from his family. Maybe he'll have it in him to feel bad for that later.

The TV is showing some old monster movie. His siblings pretend they're watching that and not watching him. He appreciates that, because it makes him feel less self-conscious as he desperately slurps down the soup, practically guzzling it, only pausing when he has to chew the greens here and there.

He eats until his stomach is full and warm. And then he keeps going. There's still soup left, and stopping feels impossible.

(Besides, no one actually promised him breakfast.)

"Hey, maybe you should slow down," says Donnie. Leo pauses, looking up at him, licking the remains of soup off his lips. The container is still about a third full.

Maybe Donnie is right. His stomach is actually starting to cramp. But... but...

He doesn't know what his face looks like right now. But something about it makes Donnie look sad.

He turns away, rubbing right between his fake eyebrows. "Okay, okay. Just... don't overdo it."

Leo sighs, grateful the soup isn't being taken away. He goes back to drinking it, feeling like the chasm inside him is finally beginning to fill.

-----

The next time Leo wakes up, it's because he has to puke. Unfortunately, he doesn't have time to communicate that before it's all over himself and the bedsheets.

"Whoa, Leo-" someone says, and then there's a flurry of activity around him. He can't keep up with who goes where and who says what. It's a lot to keep track of when he just woke up and is spewing half-digested miso soup and stomach bile.

"There we go... You're alright, Blue, you're alright," he hears once he comes back to his senses, and he blinks and looks over. His dad is standing on the bed next to him, and he leans in with a damp washcloth and wipes at Leo's face and mouth.

"Perhaps the soup was too much for your stomach," Splinter says as he finishes, tossing the washcloth into the floor. "How do you feel?"

"Mm... weird," Leo admits, leaning sleepily into his dad's shoulder. He shouldn't because he's gross, but Splinter lets him do it, stroking his cheek. "My stomach hurts..."

The loss of the food hurts; without anything in his stomach, he'll feel hungry again soon. Leo is terrified of that, of the deep empty chasm of his hunger returning, sucking him down into its depths. At the same time, the idea of eating makes him feel queasy.

He feels weird, and miserable, and scared, and he doesn't know when his dad came back, but he's so glad he's here.

"How much did you let him eat?" he hears Draxum ask. Leo finds the energy to feel offended that he's being talked about like he isn't in the room, but not enough energy to actually say anything about it.

"As much as he wanted," Mikey answers. Which, as Leo recalls, was almost all of the soup.

"And how much was that?"

"Here, look."

There's the sound of the mini-fridge being opened again. The pop of the takeout lid. Draxum hums in a way that does not sound pleased.

"Leonardo," he says, coming to stand by the bed now. "I have a very important question and I need you to answer: when was the last time you ate?"

Leo stares at him blearily. Then he raises a tired hand and indicates the mess all down his front.

"Don't get cute," says Draxum, ignoring the following grunt of warning Splinter directs his way. "You know what I'm asking you."

Of course Leo knows. But he doesn't want to answer. Not while his dad is holding him, and all his siblings are watching him expectantly. They aren't going to like what he has to tell them. He doesn't want to upset them.

But Draxum is unmoved and steely eyed. There's no way Leo is getting out of this without answering.

He sighs, shutting his eyes and leaning into Splinter so he doesn't have to be looking at the rest of them when he says it.

"Last time I ate was at Run of the Mill."

He hears a gasp, hears Mikey yell, "What!?" Feels Splinter's sharp intake of breath under his cheek, and then his dad shifts so he can hold him even closer.

"They... they didn't feed you in there at all?" asks April, like she doesn't quite believe it.

Leo nods.

"I should have leveled the whole building!" Donnie snaps, and Leo hears something get knocked to the ground.

Mikey comes closer, and puts a hand on his shoulder, drawing Leo's gaze back his way. He looks so upset, and Leo regrets looking. "Leo, why didn't you tell us? You didn't even say you were hungry!"

"Felt weird to bring it up in the middle of the happy reunion," he says. It's a weak justification, he knows. The look on Mikey's face just gets more miserable.

"Wait," Raph cuts in. "Wait, so... when Bishop said he gave you chances to cooperate for better living conditions, he meant..."

Leo swallows hard, not wanting to look at the distress on Raph's face. "Feeding me, yeah."

"What did he want out of you? What was he making you do?"

This part, at least, Leo can answer easily. "He wanted information. About the yokai and the Hidden City."

Raph sounds surprised. "He just... wanted you to answer questions?"

"Yeah." Leo nods again. "Like, how to get in, how many portals there are, what kind of defense capabilities there are, stuff about Draxum... That's what I remember."

"Why didn't you just tell them?"

Now Leo does look at Raph's face. He's staring at Leo with open horror and distress. But Leo doesn't understand the question, or the look. He did what he was supposed to, didn't he? He held out and didn't give Bishop any information. He did the right thing. So Raph has no reason to look so upset.

He smiles in a way he hopes is reassuring. "Hey, that's not what a hero would do, right?"

It's apparently not reassuring. If anything, Raph only looks more horrified.

He turns away from Leo abruptly and marches straight out of the room, slamming the door on the way out.

Leo doesn't understand that reaction. He did what he was supposed to, but Raph is mad at him, anyway. The rest of his family seems shocked, too, so at least Leo isn't alone.

"I'll talk to him," says April, the first to move. She leaves with much less noise, disappearing into the dark parking lot beyond the door.

Awkward silence envelops the room after that. Leo doesn't know what to do or say to break it. He made Raph mad, because he never does anything right, according to Raph. It's the same as always, but for some reason Leo feels even worse this time.

"...Well," says Draxum, cutting through the awkwardness when it becomes clear no one else wants to, "knowing this, we will have to be much more careful about what and how much you eat. I'll make a meal plan."

"Why you?" Leo grouses. "Let Donnie do it."

Donnie opens his mouth like he wants to agree, but Draxum cuts him off before he can.

"Me, because I have actual experience designing nutritious meal plans for children." Leo thinks of what he's heard about Draxum's lunchroom and makes a face, which Draxum ignores. "Besides, I can't trust any of the rest of you to actually tell Leo he can't have more to eat."

"I can handle myself," Leo argues.

"Clearly," says Draxum icily, indicating the mess still in Leo's lap, "you cannot."

Leo doesn't have a good response for that, and no one steps up to his defense. Back not even twenty four hours, and he already has multiple people mad at him. That has to be a new record.

"...Whatever," he says, because he doesn't know what else to say. Draxum nods like he actually gave approval.

There's another round of awkward silence. Splinter breaks it this time.

"Why doesn't someone call housekeeping to ask for some fresh sheets," he says, "while I help Blue take a bath."

"Ugh, yes, I'm calling them now," says Donnie. Leo notes for the first time that his most persnickety brother is as far from his bed as possible, having put the second bed and the table between them. "The whole room is starting to smell."

Leo cringes. "Sorry..."

"There is nothing for you to apologize for," his dad reassures him, patting his head. Leo isn't sure he'd say that, but he doesn't waste breath arguing. "Now, come with me."

It takes some maneuvering, but they get him out of bed without making a bigger mess. Mikey starts stripping the sheets, and he can hear Donnie on the phone with the staff across the room.

Leo's still not wearing any of his gear. It shouldn't matter because he's just in a room with his family, but he still walks to the bathroom as quickly as he can.

Splinter shuts the door once they're inside, then fills a little plastic cup with water. This he hands off to Leo, saying, "Drink this, and I will run you a nice warm bath."

Leo does as he says, and tries not to think too much about how Raph is mad at him.

-----

There's an old concrete barrier that stands between the motel parking lot and an open field. Raph hefts a piece of the crumbling concrete and chucks it as hard as he can, watching as it disappears into the tall grass beyond.

They starved him. They starved his little brother for over a week, because he wouldn't answer some questions. And he wouldn't answer those questions because...

That's not what a hero would do.

Raph's ninpo flares to life. Punching out another piece of the barrier is easy; he lifts the broken pieces and throws them after the first, watching them sail through the air.

"You better hope there aren't any security cameras out here," says a voice behind him, and he looks over his shoulder.

April is there, standing a few feet back, hands tucked in the pockets of her jacket. Raph's ninpo stutters out at the sight of her; he wonders if he looked scary.

"...What are they gonna do even if there are?" he asks. But he does stop his wanton destruction.

"I don't know, but just remember it's my credit card on file for damages." Her voice is teasing, though, and he knows she isn't actually mad. She comes over, turning so she can lean against part of the barrier that's still intact. "Come on, Big Red. Talk to me."

Raph doesn't turn around. He can't stand to look back at the motel, at the room where his brother is, tiny and weak and with a stomach that's been empty for days on end. He can't handle it right now. So he keeps his eyes on the field.

"Leo let those guys hurt him," he says.

"No he didn't," says April. "He can't help what they did to him."

"If he'd just answered their questions, they would have fed him."

"We can't know that." April shakes her head. "You heard what Draxum said about those guys. You saw what they were like. Maybe if Leo had answered their questions, they would have just killed him. Leo was probably thinking that, too."

"But that's not what he said," Raph points out.

"...Look." April takes a deep breath. "Leo... just went through a lot. We don't know what he was thinking while he was in there, or what he's thinking now. And you know that boy likes to say flashy things. Don't take anything he says right now too seriously."

"But what if this is the most truthful he's gonna be? What if he just hasn't thought of a good lie yet?"

"Raph-"

"No, you don't get it, April." Raph holds his head in his hands, like he can physically hold the dark thoughts at bay, but he can't, and they keep coming: horrific images of what could have happened, if they'd been too late, if the EPF had been less patient. "I told him to stop thinking of himself! Right before he disappeared, I told him he needed to be a hero! But Raph didn't mean like this!"

"Hey now, you don't know-" April tries, but Raph cuts her off.

"I just wanted him to stop doing everything himself! All the showboating, all the running in without talkin' to us... Raph just wanted him to remember that we're a team!" He lets go of his head and grips the concrete instead, so hard it cracks and crumbles under his fingers. "What if he took that to mean he should risk his life for everyone else? That he had to sacrifice himself?"

"Oookay, slow down there, big guy," says April, turning around and putting a hand on his arm. "You're taking one thing he said and blowing it way out of proportion."

"But what if I'm right?" Raph shakes his head. "How do I live with that, if I am? Knowing I almost killed him?"

"Okay, you look at me right now," she demands, in a way Raph can't refuse. He turns, and she reaches up and grabs his face by the cheeks, yanking him down until he bends to her eye level.

"You did not almost kill him. That was those EPF guys." Her voice is stern, and her grip on his face prevents him from objecting. "And even if you are right, and it's what you said to Leo that kept him from answering... well, then that's something the two of you will have to work out together."

She lets him go, putting her hands on her hips. "But what's done is done. Right now, Leo is exhausted and starved, and he's not really in a state for big emotional talks. So let's just get some space and get your head on straight. Once we get him home and everything's calmed down, the two of you can hash this out."

Raph lets out a strangled laugh, slumping down against the crumbling barrier. "Yeah, because that's so easy."

"I'm not saying it's easy." She sits down next to him, putting her hand on his arm. "But you guys love each other, so you'll do the hard things you have to do. I know you got this." She gives him a wink. "You're Raph."

Raph isn't sure he has that much faith in himself. But April isn't wrong very often, so he thinks he should probably listen to her.

-----

The water feels nice on Leo's skin, pleasantly warm and soothing. He sinks down until all but his eyes are in the water, letting it swirl around him.

He still feels a little exposed, but it's only Splinter in here, and that helps. It's like he's a little kid again, getting a bath from his dad, but he has to scrunch to cram his legs in the tub and that ruins the illusion.

"My Baby Blue always did enjoy a nice bath," says Splinter fondly, rustling up hotel soap for them to use.

He wets a washcloth and lathers it up, then cleans off the top of Leo's head and back of his neck, then down to his shoulders and the ridge of his shell. Leo would normally protest this kind of treatment, but right now he's not sure he can lift his arms above his head, so he doesn't.

Besides, it feels nice.

"Float on your front," Splinter says, adding, "Deep breath." It's what he always said when they were kids and he wanted to wash their shells. Everyone but Mikey can hold their breath for a long time, but he always says it anyway.

Leo takes a deep breath and flips onto his front, closing his eyes as his dad washes the back of his shell. It's so soothing he could almost take a nap here. The world is nicely muted under the water.

Splinter gives his shell three pats with his hand, the signal to sit back up. Leo does, rolling onto his back to rinse off. Splinter hands him the washcloth and soap, and he cleans his lower half, taking care around the bottom ridges of his shell.

"Thanks for the bath, Daddio," he says as he finishes. "I know I was starting to get pretty ripe." He pulls up the drain plug with a pop, watching the dirty water spin away.

He tries to imagine he's watching the last of that place drain away with it.

Splinter retrieves a fluffy white towel, drying off the top of Leo's head before handing it off. "I wasn't thinking of that," he says. "But I know a good bath always made you feel better when you were sick."

It was never really about the bath, but the undivided dad attention. How Splinter would wash his shell and pat his head and dry him off, just like he's doing now.

It occurs to Leo that he almost lost this forever, and its like his breath is taken away. He buries his face in the towel and tries to ride through it - he doesn't want to cry again.

Splinter must pick up on it, because suddenly he's sitting on the side of the tub, rubbing the top of Leo's shell. "It's okay, Blue. You're safe."

He's safe.

He really is safe, isn't he?

He lowers the towel and turns into his dad instead, wriggling his head into his lap. Splinter welcomes him, patting his head with one hand and the top of his shell with another. Leo's breath hitches and the tears break free.

"I know," says Splinter, and his voice is thick with emotion. Leo knows he can't look or he'll start sobbing. "I... was very scared for you, my son. I am so glad you're here, Leonardo. I love you very much."

"L-love you too," he warbles. His tears are falling fast, now, and Splinter takes the towel and dries them away every now and then.

By the time Leo sits up and rubs at his eyes, the towel is totally soaked through from being in the tub. Splinter moves away to grab him a fresh one, which Leo wraps himself up in.

"Leonardo," says Splinter hesitantly once he is out of the tub, "I know you may not want to talk about it right now. But I need to ask you this."

Leo wonders where this is going. He sits down on the toilet lid, looking at his dad. "Uh, okay."

Splinter looks him up and down before asking, "Did those men... hit you? Or touch you in any way?"

Oh. Leo shakes his head. "No. They didn't... I mean, they just put me in that room. They weren't, like... torturing me or anything."

He thought that would reassure his dad, but if anything Splinter only looks more sad.

"Not feeding you is torturing you," he says.

"Oh, well, yeah, I guess." Leo rubs the back of his head. "But I mean, they weren't... you know. Shocking me or whipping me or... putting me in that medieval stretchy thing from the movies."

"I see." His dad sighs, but nods. "Very well. I'm glad, at least, that you do not have any injuries."

Leo nods back. "Yeah, no, I'm all good." He tries to smile, but his smiles aren't really having the effect they usually do.

"Are you ready to go back?" asks Splinter, moving to the door. Leo nods again, standing up. "Are you still cold?"

Leo blinks in surprise, then realizes Splinter is referring to the towel he still has wrapped around himself. He's not really that cold anymore, but he grabs onto the convenient excuse, anyway.

"Uh, yeah." He grins sheepishly. "Actually, did you guys bring any of my clothes? I'm a little worried about the ride home."

"Ah." Splinter taps his chin. "I don't think we brought any of your things. Your brothers brought their hoodies, I believe, in case they needed to go in a store..." He reaches up and pats Leo's hand. "There is a gift shop in the motel lobby. I will send Purple and Orange in the morning - I'm sure they'd enjoy doing some shopping!"

"Thanks. I just need a sweatshirt or something. Maybe some pajama pants." He shrugs. "Gotta stay toasty, right?"

"That's right. No more turtle-cicles." Splinter reaches up and turns the doorknob, gesturing for Leo to lead the way.

Leo shuffles for the bed, keeping the towel tight around himself as he goes. He doesn't drop it until he's under the sheets again, safely tucked away.

Raph isn't back yet. The realization turns Leo's stomach. But Mikey barrels into bed next to him, cuddling up against one side, while Donnie scoots in on the other, tapping away at his phone, and Leo tries to forget about it.

He's sure that, as soon as he's better, Raph will be back to yell at him.

-----

Leo doesn't realize Draxum left until he comes back. He did doze off for a bit there, though, so it's not surprising.

Mikey was snoozing against Leo's arm, too, but when the door clicks shut he raises his head, blinking sleep out of his eyes. Donnie looks up from his phone. Splinter's asleep in the other bed, only grumbling incoherently at the noise before rolling over.

(Raph and April still haven't come back. It makes Leo's heart thud a little harder.)

"Hey Barry," says Mikey, voice still a little sleepy. He pushes himself up to sit against the pillows. "Find what you were looking for?"

"Yes." Draxum walks over to the bed, pulling a bottle out of a pharmacy bag. He twists the cap loose, then holds it out and says, "Leonardo, drink this."

Leo can't help the way his face screws up as he takes it, eyeing the label on the bottle. "Eugh. What is this?"

"Vegetable juice," Draxum informs him dryly.

"Gross." Leo does not bring the bottle any closer to his lips. "Can I have soda instead?"

"Absolutely not." Draxum's voice is stern. "No sugar or caffeine until I say otherwise."

The next several days are looking worse and worse. Leo grimaces. "Can I just drink water, then?"

"You can and should drink water. But you also need to steadily reintroduce your body to nutrients. The vegetable juice will help, until your stomach can handle more solid food at a time."

Leo groans, eyeing the bottle warily. Anything labeled "juice" should not be this color of red-orange.

"Draxum's just trying to help, Leo!" Mikey chimes in. "Besides, vegetable juice isn't that bad."

It's not the most reassuring endorsement, given that Mikey loves vegetables in a way Leo has never understood. But with his little brother cheering him on, he can't back down.

"Fine. Down the hatch," he mutters, then takes a swig. It tastes just as off-putting as he was imagining, and he shudders and smacks his lips. "Yuck."

"Sorry, Leo." Mikey pats his arm comfortingly. "As soon as Barry says it's okay, we'll get pizza!"

"Please don't remind me of pizza right now..."

"Here." Leo looks up to find Draxum is holding out a handful of crackers. "Eat these, too. Be sure you chew them thoroughly before you swallow. And keep drinking the juice."

Leo takes the crackers in his free hand, putting them in his lap on top of the sheets. There's only six, and they look boring even for crackers. but his stomach perks up with interest, reminding Leo that everything he put in it before got thrown up.

Leo thought he was going to be waiting until breakfast to eat again. The crackers ease that tension, relief he hadn't consciously realized he needed.

Still, can't let Draxum think Leo actually appreciates all his bullying, so Leo still makes a face as he holds up one of the crackers and examines it.

"And these are...?"

"Are you going to react like this to everything?" asks Draxum with a scoff. "They're whole wheat crackers. They'll settle your stomach, and you need food in you so can take these vitamins."

He pulls a bottle out of his bag and shakes it, filling the room with the sound of pills rattling around. Leo scrunches up his snout.

"You didn't get me the chewable kind? Or those fruit gummy ones?"

"Are you such a child you need your medicine in the form of candy?" Draxum rolls his eyes. "You will be just fine with the pills."

"Okay, okay!" Leo groans theatrically, leaning his head back. "I can't believe you guys are letting him take care of him. He'll be feeding me bugs and leaves next."

"Stop whining. No one wants to hear it this late."

"I actually like these crackers," says Donnie. "They're delightfully bland."

This statement is followed by a crunch.

The sound sends a shiver up Leo's shell, and he turns his head in time to see Donnie, one of Leo's crackers in his hand, a big bite taken out of it. He chews and swallows with a slight smile on his face, clearly unconcerned that he just took one of Leo's crackers.

Leo only had six crackers to start. Now there's five. He doesn't know when he gets any more. No one promised him breakfast. And now he only has five crackers, and not six. And he can feel the hunger coming back.

Donnie turns his head and they lock eyes. Leo has no idea what his own expression looks like, but Donnie's turns startled and then almost frightened. He's so shocked he drops the rest of the cracker into his own lap.

Leo just barely stops himself from snatching it back.

Because that would be weird. What he's doing right now is weird. Everyone is staring at him, the room has gone silent, he's acting like Donnie just committed an unforgivable sin when all he did was take a cracker, like the two of them haven't been casually taking each other's food their entire lives.

He's being weird. He needs to stop. He needs to go back to normal right now.

Five crackers can be enough. It's enough it's enough it's-

Leo forces his brain to restart, his face and posture to relax, his fingers to unclench. He schools his mouth into an unserious grin, glancing back at Draxum. "H-hey, so... how many crackers do I need to eat? Since Thief-atello just stole one."

"I'm sorry," Donnie blurts out, an extremely rare apology. "I wasn't thinking."

Leo waves a hand. "It's cool, man," he says.

"No," Donnie insists. "I shouldn't have done that, I don't know why I did that-"

Great, first he pisses off Raph and now Donnie's freaked out. Leo's family came all the way to Colorado to save him and all he's done since then is upset them.

"Dee," says Leo, and he knocks one shoulder against Donnie's. "Seriously. It's fine."

Because it is. They take food from each other all the time. Leo's the one who made it weird, not Donnie, even if he did take one of Leo's crackers.

Donnie looks at him, uncertain. He still hasn't touched the remaining cracker in his lap. Leo wishes he would finish eating it now, so it isn't tempting him.

"...Still. I won't do it again," says Donnie finally, looking down at his lap and wringing his hands. He looks miserable, and Leo hates that he caused this.

Before he can do or say anything more, Draxum gets Leo's attention by holding out a new cracker. "Here," he says, waiting until Leo takes it, before handing a few to the still shell-shocked Donnie. "Both of you can have crackers. Now don't squabble, you'll disturb the neighbors."

Donnie puts the crackers in his lap and doesn't touch them again. The air in the room is stifling. And Leo wants to eat his own crackers, but now it feels awkward.

"I think you should steal one of his to get him back," says Mikey in an exaggerated whisper, a gallant attempt to dispel the tension. It doesn't quite work, but it breaks the silence enough for Leo to force out a chuckle and pick up a cracker.

"Everyone eat what you've been given and settle down," says Draxum, going to sit on the other bed. Splinter mumbles in his sleep again and rolls over. Everyone relaxes a little more.

Leo bites into the cracker. It tastes like all of nothing, but it has a pleasant crunch between his teeth, and he finds that he likes it.

Next to him, Donnie hesitantly finishes off his own half-finished cracker. Then he half-heartedly eats the others. Leo drinks his vegetable juice, then swallows the pill Draxum gives him.

Mikey does his best to fill the room with happy chatter, and the mood lightens, little by little.

Everything's okay. He just can't do that again.

-----

Everyone but Draxum is asleep when Raph and April come back into the room, just a little before dawn. Splinter is splayed out across the bed closest to the door, while all three of his little brothers are curled around each other in the bed by the bathroom.

Raph and April spent a long time sitting by the barrier, talking intermittently between long spells of silence. Then they moved to the tank, taking a nap together on the bench seats.

April has her travel pillow and blanket now, and she takes both and spreads out at the foot of his brothers’ bed, wisely putting her head by Donnie, who sleeps still as the dead, and not Mikey, who has already moved several times since they walked in. She yawns and then conks out almost immediately, glasses held loosely in her hand against her chest.

Raph wishes he didn’t feel quite so wide awake.

Draxum is sitting in one of the chairs by the table, phone in hand. He has a notebook open and scribbles into it with a pen. Raph comes over and takes a peek: it’s all notes about nutrition, the vitamins that are most critically needed after a long term starvation event.

Draxum’s helping Leo. That makes Raph feel better, and he sinks into the other chair, leaning his head back.

“You should try to get some sleep,” says Draxum, voice low. “We’ll be leaving in a few hours.”

“Raph’s good,” he says, staying where he is.

He feels Draxum’s eyes on him, for a moment. “I’m taking watch. Go to sleep, Raphael.”

Raph hesitates, then gets up from the chair and goes to lay down next to his dad. Splinter grumbles in his sleep, but rolls over like he knows to make room for a son crawling into his bed.

From here Raph can see Leo’s face. It’s gaunt and washed out, and even with all the sleeping he’s done there are still dark circles under his eyes. He looks so fragile, and the anger burns in his chest again, that anyone could hurt him like this.

He’s safe now, though. Mikey has an arm curled around his plastron, and Donnie flanks his other side like a guard. He’s able to rest, and eat, and get better.

Raph remembers what April said. Give Leo time to heal, then talk about what happened in there. He can do that. He can be patient.

He hadn’t thought he would be able to sleep, but lying still, with his sleeping family all around him, safe and sound, puts him under in minutes.

-----

"Morning, Leo!"

Leo blinks awake, taking in his surroundings. The walls are beige, the bed is blue, there's a TV playing the morning news on low volume, there's sunlight shining through the window.

He can smell food.

"It's breakfast time!" says Mikey. He's standing next to the bed, holding a tray. Leo wriggles until he's sitting up against the pillows, grinning as he pats his lap.

"Thanks, Mikey."

"You're welcome!" Mikey gives Leo a thousand watt smile as he sets the tray down.

Leo wishes he could feel as enthusiastic as his little brother as he gets a look at his breakfast. There's a large cup of white yogurt, and a little plate of scrambled eggs that don't even look like they have pepper on them. He's glad he has food, he just wishes it was something more exciting.

He lifts his eyes and takes a look around the room. Donnie is in one of the chairs by the table, tapping away on his phone. April is in the other chair, and she smiles and gives him a little wave when he meets her eyes. His dad is in the other bed, munching on what looks like a muffin and watching the news. He doesn't see Raph, but he hears the shower running.

Draxum is standing by the doorway, watching Leo. When their gazes meet, he sighs, rubbing the furrow on his forehead.

"Are you going to ask me what you're eating again?"

"Yes!" Leo points at the cup of yogurt. "What is this!? It's not even fruit flavored!"

"It's Greek yogurt. You can have fruit when your stomach is more settled."

"Ugh..." Leo sighs, grabbing the plastic spoon off his tray and scooping up a tiny bite of yogurt. It's not terrible, but without any fruit it's not very exciting.

"Hey, look at the bright side," says Mikey, holding out a plastic cup. "You get apple juice this morning! Since it had no sugar added, Draxum said it's okay!"

Leo musters up a smile. "Well, it's better than vegetable juice..."

"Don't get too excited," says Draxum dryly. "You'll be drinking more on the drive home."

"You're such a buzzkill, Drax," Leo huffs, taking a bite of his eggs now. They're unseasoned, but they're something. And there's the part of him that is just happy to have any food, simmering under the surface and demanding he eat faster. To keep himself from cramming the whole of the plate in his mouth at once, he turns to Mikey. "Hey, sneak me a muffin. Blueberry or chocolate chip."

Mikey grimaces. "I don't think Barry wants me to do that..."

Leo pouts, chewing his eggs slowly. "Who are you going to listen to, him or me?"

"He'll listen to me," says Draxum sternly. "If you're still hungry after that, you can have some more crackers."

Leo sighs, but part of him feels better knowing the crackers are still on the table. He crams more eggs in his mouth and chews as sulkily as possible.

There's an Old Navy ad playing on TV. Splinter sits up straighter in bed when he sees it, getting muffin crumbs everywhere. "Ah, that reminds me! Blue wanted some warm clothes to wear on the ride home." Splinter reaches out and pats Mikey on the arm. "Orange, Purple - why don't the two of you go to the gift shop and do some shopping? You can get a souvenir for yourselves as well."

"Oooh, yes!" Mikey bounces excitedly in place. "Dibs on picking out Leo's clothes!"

"Gasp!" Donnie stands up, pointing at him dramatically. "You know I'm the fashionable one in this family! Leo, tell him you want me to pick out your clothes for our return trip!"

"Mmm, I dunno..." Leo grins up at his little brother, giving him a wink. "I think Angelo's got this."

Donnie makes a noise of utter betrayal while Mikey cheers and stoops to give Leo a hug. "I won't let you down, Leon!" he promises, giving Leo a big smooch on the top of his head.

"I know you won't."

"Fine then! I'll just have to make you all jealous with my own selections." Donnie looks down. "April, do you want to join us?"

"Yeah, sure." April stands up, stretching her arms above her head. "Maybe I'll get a keychain or something."

The three of them file out of the room, Donnie and Mikey still arguing animatedly. Draxum takes one of the abandoned chairs, and Splinter goes back to watching the news.

Leo continues eating his bland breakfast, and tries not to spend too much time wondering when his next meal will be. At least he's been promised crackers.

-----

Raph comes out of the bathroom about ten minutes later, just as Leo's finishing up his breakfast with a few crackers. He nearly jumps when their eyes meet.

"Oh, hey, Leo," he says, voice a forced cheerful. "You're awake! That's great!"

"Yeah," says Leo back, trying not to sound too awkward and failing. He holds up his empty cup. "Just finished breakfast."

"O-oh, yeah. Was it... good?"

Leo grimaces. "Not really."

"Oh." Raph hovers in the doorway, practically vibrating with nervous energy. Leo wonders if he should apologize, but he still doesn't know what he's apologizing for, so he doesn't.

He'd know if Raph would just go ahead and yell at him, but Raph doesn't seem eager to start. Maybe he doesn't think Leo is healed up enough yet, or maybe he doesn't want to do it in front of Splinter. Either way, no yelling seems forthcoming.

Instead, Raph says, "Uh, where's everyone else?"

"Shopping for clothes for Blue and for souvenirs for themselves," Splinter answers.

"Oh, cool. Maybe... maybe I'll go join 'em!"

Raph pats Leo on the head as he goes by, then leaves the room like it's on fire. Leo is silent; he has no idea what to say or do.

He's out of food now, too. He's already asked Draxum for crackers once, and he's not sure if asking again will actually gain him anything. And with Mikey gone, he feels too anxious to try.

He settles back on his pillows and turns his eyes to the TV, lifting the plastic spoon in his hands. He slots the handle between his teeth and chews, relaxing at the feel of it. It's sturdier than the water bottles, so he can't flatten it down as easily, but the way he can munch on it endlessly has its own appeal.

The news drones on. His dad laughs at something the anchors say. Draxum scribbles away at a notebook. And Leo leans back on his pillows and chews on the spoon.

On the ticker at the bottom of the screen, he notices the tail end of a news item about a training accident at a military facility in Colorado Springs - one injured.

-----

The outfit Mikey has picked out is a sky blue hoodie with "PIKE'S PEAK" in big block letters and darker blue plaid sweatpants. They meet Leo's standards for softness and comfiness, if not quite his standards for style. It's fine, because he's after the former right now.

"Did I do good?" Mikey asks, bouncing on his toes.

"You did great," Leo responds, motioning him closer so he can rub his head affectionately. It lacks his usual punch, but Mikey laughs and wiggles away anyway.

"We also got," Mikey rummages around in the gift store bag, then pulls out, "matching fuzzy socks!"

The socks are in their signature colors and have snowboarders on them, and each set has a terrible pun like, "SNOW RULES!" and "COOLER THAN COOL!" Leo loves them immediately.

"I think this is the best gift you've ever gotten me," says Leo sincerely. Mikey beams and comes in for a hug that Leo gladly returns.

"Here, put 'em on!" says Mikey after he backs away, nodding at the hoodie and pants on the bed. "You don't want to be cold, right?"

"Right," says Leo, lifting the hoodie in his arms. A quick glance around the room shows that they're all looking at him now - Mikey, Donnie, and April by the bed, Splinter from the other bed, Draxum at the table, Raph hovering in the doorway. Waiting for him to put the clothes on.

He wishes they wouldn't.

It's weird. He's never felt self-conscious like this. He and his brothers have never really practiced modesty the way humans do, especially around each other. And yet the idea of standing in front of them now with no clothes, not even his mask, makes him feel strangely queasy.

He tries to tell himself it's because of how he looks now. Stick thin arms and legs, weird, unhealthy skin tone, dark circles under his eyes that a few hours of unconsciousness and one night of intermittent sleep have definitely not erased. That it's just his normal vanity.

But he can still feel it: that guard's eyes on him, any time he left the safety of his hiding spot under his cot.

He pulls the hoodie on over his head while he's still in bed. Then he crawls out of bed and pulls the pants on as fast as he can.

He looks around to see if anyone noticed, but their expressions haven't changed. Mikey gives him a thumbs up.

He relaxes. With the clothes on, the feeling of being exposed finally ebbs away. And it is warmer like this, which is a plus.

It's okay. In a day or two, he'll be over this weird self-consciousness and back to normal, and no one has to know about it.

"Well, how do I look?" he asks, grinning and turning in a circle. Mikey and April clap indulgently for him.

"Lookin' good, Leo," says April, and he gives her a wink.

"Well, even though you chose to forego my aesthetic sensibilities, I got you something, too," says Donnie, pushing his way forward. He holds out a pair of flipflops, which say "We're in" and "CO" on the toes and have cartoon giraffes on the heels. Leo can't help but grin when he sees them. "Trust me, you'll want these if we have to go into any gas station restrooms. Shudder."

Leo laughs, then reaches out an arm to pull Donnie into a hug before he can escape. To his surprise, Donnie doesn't even put up a token fight against it, hugging him back more fiercely than usual.

"Thanks, I love them," he says into Donnie's ear.

"Of course you do," says Donnie smugly, but his eyes are suspiciously shiny when he breaks the hug. Nothing feels awkward between them now, even given the cracker incident earlier, and Leo is glad.

“Okay!” says April, clapping her hands. “Checkout’s in thirty minutes - if you have anything else to do, do it now.”

“Wait,” says Leo, looking around. “Where’s my mask?” It’d be nice for hiding the dark circles.

“Oh, I think Raph grabbed it,” says April, but when she turns, Raph is gone. April presses her fingers to her forehead and sighs. “Okay, you can get it later.”

Leo’s mouth suddenly feels dry. He reaches around and grabs a bottle of vegetable juice Draxum gave him, draining the last of it.

“Checkout in twenty eight minutes,” says Donnie to cut the awkwardness. “Let’s go, people!”

Leo sits on the bed and watches his family prepare to leave, gnawing on the top of his juice bottle.

-----

“Wake up, sleepyhead,” calls a voice, and Leo blinks awake to see April standing over his cot. No, not the cot - this is the bench seat in the tank. If he’s going to be sleeping so much, he needs to stop waking up confused.

And he has been sleeping a lot. The only time they woke him up was to eat another snack of crackers with a little bit of mushed up banana, like he’s some kind of baby.

The banana did help break up the monotony, though.

Leo can’t help but hope he’s being woken up for food again.

Like she read his mind, April grins and holds out a hand to help him up. “Lunch time!” she announces.

“Oh boy,” says Leo, taking the hand and slowly getting to his feet. He’s stiff from lying in the tank for so long, and he stretches and pops his arms. “More flavorless mush.”

“Maybe we can convince Drax to give you a little salt this time,” says April with a snicker. She waits for him to slip the flipflops on, then leads him out of the tank.

It occurs to him that this is the first time he’s really been out in the sun in over a week, excluding times he’s been unconscious and the short walk from the motel room to the tank. He takes a minute to just lean his face back and feel the warmth of it on his skin. It hasn’t even been that long, and he’s used to life underground, but somehow it feels different this time, foreign and new and sweet.

When he looks back at April, she’s tearing up again. She quickly wipes at the bottoms of her eyes and pulls on a smile, linking her arm around his.

“Come on. We can grab a picnic table and sit outside.”

It's then that Leo actually takes in where they are: a big travel center, or that's what the sign on the building declare. The tank is parked at the gas pumps, and Donnie, with his hood up, is excitedly talking about it to some interested truckers who have come over. He spots Mikey over at the grassy space for dog walking, laughing while a puppy licks his face, a seemingly annoyed Draxum standing off to the side with his arms folded. He doesn't see Raph or Splinter, but April fills him in as they cross the parking lot.

"Raph and Splints are inside ordering food. They have a whole diner in there!"

"Let me guess: I'm eating soup."

"I think it's potato."

"Well, at least it's not more tomato." Leo makes a face. "If I have to drink any more vegetable juice I'm going to turn red and swell up into a ball."

"You know what pizza sauce is made out of, right?" she asks, playfully bumping into him.

"Actually, I don't," he says smoothly, bumping into her back. They fake tussle outside the door for a moment, until both of them are laughing.

Someone trying to get past clears their throat loudly, and April and Leo shoot them an apologetic look before going on inside. Leo visits the restroom and tries not to look too long at the arrays of snacks on offer. April goes to help Raph and his dad with the food.

They all end up back outside at a large picnic table. His family has a mix of foods: burgers, hot dogs, salads, chicken strips. He knows there was pizza inside, and it touches him that no one picked it.

Next to everyone else's large, full plates, his own bowl of soup feels ridiculously small and sad. But he doubts any amount of pouting will convince Draxum to let him have a burger, so he digs in. At least this has some flavor.

Lunch is nice, even if Raph is still acting weird and distant. It’s just good being in the sun and the fresh air. Leo is reluctant to leave as they finish up.

“Come with me!” says Mikey as the others go to throw their trash away and buy anything they need for the return trip. He holds out his hand, and Leo takes it and follows Mikey back toward the grassy area at the edge of the parking lot. They make sure there are no dog droppings, then lay down in the grass, looking up at the blue sky and the clouds going overhead.

“I thought it’d be nice to get a little more sun before we have to get back in the tank,” says Mikey, limbs splayed out in every direction. He’s taken off his hoodie - no one at the travel center has paid much attention to the peeks of green skin they’ve been showing off, and no one is nearby right now, anyway.

It is a little hot. But the idea of being shirtless where a stranger can see him keeps Leo fully swaddled.

He pushes that thought aside, closing his eyes and just trying to enjoy the feeling of the sun on his skin, the breeze blowing by, the grass under his fingers. He doesn’t get to touch a lot of grass in the city, but it reminds him of times they would sneak out to Central Park.

“This is really nice, Angelo,” he says. “Thanks.”

“Mmhmmm.”

They’re quiet for a few minutes, just laying there, with only the ambient sounds of the travel center keeping them company. Leo starts to feel like he might doze off again.

“…Hey Leo?”

Leo blinks his eyes open, craning his neck to see Mikey. “Yeah?”

“Are you… okay?”

Ah. Maybe he should have expected this.

“Of course I’m okay,” he says, voice nonchalant. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Uh, well…” Mikey hesitantly trails off, clearly trying to decide what he wants to say.

Leo takes care of it for him. “It’s over, Mikey. You guys saved me. I’m okay.” He turns his head and grins. “And once Draxum stops being the food police, everything will be back to normal.”

“Mmm…” Mikey doesn’t sound as convinced as he should. Man, Leo’s smiles are really failing him lately. “But… if something’s bothering you… You’ll tell us, right?”

Leo pats his head. “Of course I will.”

If it’s worth bringing up to them, anyway.

Mikey’s eyes rove his face for a moment, but in the end he must be satisfied, because he smiles and rolls to toss his arm over Leo’s chest. “Okay. But I’ll hold you to that.”

“Or what, I’ll get a visit from the doctor?”

“You know it!”

Leo laughs, which gets Mikey laughing. They stay there until Raph calls their names across the parking lot, and they go back to the tank.

-----

He manages to stay awake after they stop for lunch, curled up on the bench seat. He doesn’t have the energy to talk as much as normal, but he leans against Donnie and contributes where he can. He’s just happy to be back with them, hearing and seeing them all around him.

But there’s something always at the back of his mind keeping him from fully relaxing: he doesn’t know when he gets to eat next. And he knows it will be okay - he’s with his family, and they’d never let him go hungry. He knows that, but about two and a half hours after lunch, he keeps finding himself returning to the same thought.

He’s drinking on a sugar-free Gatorade they got him at the travel center; one of the only non-vegetable or fruit drinks Draxum approved. Mikey has just finished up a story from one of the many art vlogs he watches, and, in the lag of conversation, he tries to broach the subject casually.

“Sooo… what’s our plan for the rest of the drive? Are we stopping, or…?”

“We’re going to try to make it all the way back to New York,” says April. “We already have our shifts picked out, and the autopilot is helping.”

“We can stop in a few more hours for another bathroom break,” says Donnie, pulling up a holoscreen showing their route and the drive time remaining. “Unless someone needs us to stop sooner.” He glances at Leo, and the way he’s bouncing the rim of the bottle off his teeth.

“Oh, uh, I’m good,” he says quickly, lowering the bottle. "I'm just wondering, uh... what about stopping for dinner?"

His family does about as good a job being subtle about looking at each other as he's being subtle about his worry. "We were thinking we'd probably try to find something around seven," says Donnie.

Seven. It's a little after three now. Okay. He can wait that long. What's four hours? And at least he knows what to expect now.

His family hesitantly return to their conversation. And Leo does his best to pay attention. April is telling them about all the stuff she's been doing to prepare for college in the fall, how she's already chatting with people running the student paper. She's excited about it, and Leo is excited for her.

"Ew, Leo," says Donnie suddenly, tearing him out of his thoughts. "Why are you doing that?"

Leo looks over at him in confusion. He starts to ask, Doing what?, but when he opens his mouth to speak, something falls out of his teeth and into his lap.

It's the Gatorade bottle cap, chewed down flat. Leo can see the marks from where his molars snapped through the lip, and the dents where he's been gnawing at it with his incisors.

He didn't even know he was doing that.

Everyone saw him doing that.

Embarrassment flushes through him, and he scrambles to grab the lid and toss it into their communal trash sack. Maybe no one noticed how thoroughly he had chewed on it.

"Gross," says Donnie, his nose scrunched up. So at the very least he saw. "You don't know where that's been."

"Oh please, it's not that gross," says Leo, doing his best to keep his voice light and airy. "It's just a bottle cap."

"That other people have touched and that you put into your mouth."

"Don't knock it till you try it, bro."

"I'm good not trying it."

"Your loss," says Leo with a shrug. He leans back, cool and calm and collected and not a total weirdo who gnaws on plastic like it's candy. "Stop looking at me like that, I threw it away already."

Donnie stops looking at him, literally. Things feel tense again. Leo doesn’t know how he keeps managing that.

Mikey jumps up, walking to the front of the tank, where Draxum is asleep in one of the chairs. Mikey shakes him awake, smiling in the face of his annoyed grumbling.

“Hey, Barry, is it okay if Leo has a snack?”

“Why do you have to ask him?” calls Leo, folding his arms. “Besides, I’m fine!”

His protests go ignored. “What time is it?” asks Draxum, sitting up and smoothing down his robes.

“I’m fine!” insists Leo, louder.

“It’s three fifteen,” Mikey says.

“Mm… Yes, he can have a snack.” Draxum gets up, going over to their snack cooler. “Leonardo, do you want crackers or more banana?”

“I’m fine!” Leo tries one more time, but his stomach flips when it occurs to him that he may actually not get a snack if he insists, and he wants the snack.

He sighs, sinking back in his seat, and says, “Crackers.” He wants the crunch of eating them.

Draxum brings him his crackers. There’s only four. He’s not sure why he’s getting less this time. Maybe because he was caught chewing on the lid.

He doesn’t ask. He eats what he’s been given, and then decides the best thing for everyone would be if he took another nap.

-----

Raph would have driven them all the way to New York if he’d been allowed. But they insist on having him swap with Donnie, and he ends up sitting in the back on the benches with because the other front chairs are hard for him to fit in.

Leo is asleep. He’s been sleeping a lot, but that’s to be expected. His body barely has any energy, and going by the dark circles, Raph knows he didn’t get much sleep while he was…

When Leo is awake, his family are their lively selves, chatting and laughing and enjoying each other’s company. Once he goes to sleep, everyone quiets down, Donnie dims the lights in the cab, and a weird melancholy sets in.

Leo looks terrible. They haven’t talked about it, but they all know it. Raph is shocked Leo has even been able to walk on his own, but Draxum attributes that to their reinforced mutant biology. He’s swimming in a hoodie that is his size, his hands and feet are skeletal where they poke out of his clothes. Raph wonders how long it will take for him to start filling out again, to have muscle like he did before. He’s afraid to ask.

Splinter sits with Leo’s head in his lap, rubbing his shell any time he shifts in his sleep. Mikey curls up against Raph and sniffles, and Raph pulls him closer.

He has to keep reminding himself that Leo is here, and safe. He just ate a snack, and soon they’ll get another meal in him. Just give it a week or two, and they’ll have their brother back.

And then, he’ll make sure Leo knows he never has to sacrifice himself again.

-----

Home looks just like Leo remembered it, and feels totally foreign at the same time.

His family clap for him as he walks in, and he does a little bow, which is a poor decision because it leaves him feeling lightheaded after. Luckily Raph is there to catch him and carry him from the garage to the chair in the living room. Things are still weird between them, but at least Raph isn't totally avoiding him.

(Raph still hasn't yelled at him. He wishes they could just get it over with.)

They eat lunch, with Leo getting bland soup and crackers again. Draxum notes that he could have peanut butter if they could have it in the lair, which makes Raph look pointlessly guilty, so Leo changes the subject. After lunch, April gives him a big hug and tells him she'll see him soon, but she has to go back home before her mom gets too worried. Leo feels bad when he learns she's missed several days of class now, but she just laughs and pats his head.

"I'm a senior and it's May, Leo; that I show up at all is enough for them."

Everyone's tired from being on the road for over twenty four hours, so after April leaves they unanimously agree on a movie marathon/turtle pile in the living room. His brothers drag out their comfiest pillows and blankets and set up in the floor, while Splinter cuddles up with Leo in his recliner. Draxum actually stays, to everyone's surprise, and Mikey jumps at the opportunity to introduce him to the magic of Lou Jitsu and Jupiter Jim.

Leo drifts in and out the whole evening. He'll be awake for the whole first act of a movie, then blink and suddenly they're partway through a different film. Each time he wakes his dad is there, patting his hand and saying, "Hello, Blue," and his brothers are around him, quoting their favorite lines or jumping up to act along with their favorite parts. It's normal and it's familiar and it's warm and soft.

He eats more soup for dinner, and crackers and banana and a little pudding cup, as a treat. His family gets more sleepy as evening turns to night; his dad's snoring fills the room, and Draxum finally leaves to go to his apartment. His brothers settle in and fall asleep around the middle of Jupiter Jim's Last Trip to the Moon 17, curled up in a heap at the foot of the chair.

He's home.

He's really home.

It's over.

Leo buries his face in his dad's fur and lets that thought carry him to sleep.

-----

Leo's home and it's amazing.

Raph wishes that meant everything was back to normal.

He doesn't know how to be around Leo right now. Every time he looks at him, he sees the stick thin arms and the gaunt face and he hears Leo's voice saying, That's not what a hero would do, and he doesn't know what to say anymore. What if he accidentally says something that makes Leo feel like what happened to him was right? What if he accidentally makes Leo think he should do it again?

It's only been a day, he tries to tell himself. Leo's still spending most of his time sleeping, between his regular snacks and meals. Even when he's awake, he doesn't have much energy for conversation, seeming content to just sit and listen to everyone else. It's just not the right time. It'll get better once Leo is better.

He can wait until then.

It's the afternoon now, the day after they brought Leo home. Raph just finished his workout and is making his rounds to check on everyone, just to make sure that everyone is... well, just to make sure. Splinter is in the kitchen making tea, a kind with no caffeine or sugar, as per Draxum's instructions. Mikey and Leo are in the living room, a half-asleep Leo watching Mikey play video games on the projecter.

Donnie isn't there.

His heart lurches, no matter how much he tells himself it's okay. Donnie is fine, Donnie is home, Donnie hasn't gone missing, not right after they got Leo back.

(He'd tried to tell himself Leo was fine in the beginning, too.)

He checks their rooms first, but Donnie's is empty. Then it's up to the lab, where he finds the door closed.

He knocks, and a robotic voice asks for identification. He sighs, not wanting to play this game right now.

"Donnie, it's me. You better be in there..."

The door beeps and then slides up, revealing a dimly lit lab. At first, Raph thinks he must not be here, and he's about to turn to leave, but then he hears a noise from Donnie's big computer desk.

A sniffle.

His big brother senses shifting into hyperdrive, he speed-walks over. The door slides shut behind him with a mechanical whir.

Sure enough, Donnie is there, legs pulled up into his desk chair, face buried in his knees. His goggles are off and laying on the desk, and his computer monitor shows a video, frozen on...

A white room, almost empty, save the cot that is for some reason propped up in front of the toilet, and...

Donnie sniffles again, and Raph tears his eyes away from one little brother to the other.

"Donnie...? What is this?"

Donnie sniffs and sits up a little more, rubbing under his eyes where tear tracks are already drying. "It's the surveillance video from the EPF base."

Raph gathered that much. "Why... are you watching it?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Donnie looks up at him. "I wanted to see what they did to him."

"You couldn't just ask him?"

Donnie's drawn on eyebrows go down. "I don't know, do you want to ask him?"

Raph imagines trying to ask Leo questions like that and can't help but cringe. "Okay, no. Raph doesn't want to do that."

"Exactly." Donnie gestures at the screen. "I got this footage from the base. And I erased it permanently from their systems, for the record, and destroyed the hard drives to be sure. But I kept a copy for us. I thought, if Leo wasn't in a state to... well, just in case. We might need it for medical reasons."

"But we know what's wrong with him," Raph points out.

"Do we?"

"Uh, yeah." Raph nods. "Starvation... right?"

"Well, yes." Donnie drums his fingers on the table. "But... he's different, now. He's pretending he's not, and he's doing his normal Leo thing of joking and smiling, but... he is." Donnie scowls. "And I already asked Michael to confirm my suspicions, and he said so, too, so I know this isn't me overreacting!"

"Okay, okay!" Raph holds up his hands placatingly. "So you wanted to watch the footage to see what happened. What'd you find out?"

Donnie wilts, resting his chin on his knees. "I couldn't get further than the first twenty four hours."

Raph feels a foreboding chill run over his spine. "You couldn't... or you didn't want to?"

Donnie reaches over and presses a button. The footage shifts to a different angle, so now he can see the wall Leo was curled up against. Donnie runs the footage back at a fast speed, and Raph watches as Leo gets up a few times, disappearing into the blind spot of the camera, or going to grab water from a little slot by the door, until Donnie freezes on a new scene: the wall opening up to reveal a large window.

He leans forward, putting his hands on the desk. "Raph saw that - they were watching his cell through that."

"Yes. And he would sit in that spot," Donnie runs the footage forward a bit, to where Leo is sitting against the now white wall, "because it's in a blind spot to the window."

Raph grimaces. "He didn't want them watching him."

"But it didn't matter," says Donnie, and he reaches over and taps the button to go to a new angle... and again... and again. "They have every inch of the room covered."

Raph's heart sinks. "Does he know?"

"Leo's not dumb," says Donnie, a magnanimous statement coming from him. "He knew they had to be watching him with cameras."

"But he still tried to hide..."

"He was doing whatever he had to to feel better," concludes Donnie.

Raph sighs. "I wonder if it worked."

Donnie clicks another button, and the video player closes. He swivels his chair to face Raph, his eyes shiny again.

"I don't want to watch anymore," he admits.

Raph nods. "I wouldn't want to, either."

"No, I mean... because he was trying to hide." Donnie rubs at his eyes again. "Maybe it is a little ironic for me to be saying this, but... it feels like it would be a privacy violation."

Raph turns that over. Maybe knowing what happened to Leo could help them. But what Donnie is saying feels more important.

He puts his hand on Donnie's shoulder, the part that's bare past his battleshell, and gives it a rub. "You love him and you don't want to hurt him," he concludes.

Donnie sniffles again, and then uncurls himself, putting his legs down on the ground. He doesn't have to do more than that for Raph to catch on, and Raph scoops Donnie up into a hug that is quickly returned.

"...I keep hurting him," Donnie admits, resting his head on Raph's shoulder. "I don't know how, but it keeps happening."

"...Yeah, well, join the club," says Raph sadly. He pats at Donnie's back. "Raph can't seem to say the right thing, either."

Donnie laughs miserably. "I thought getting him back would be the hard part. And then everything would go back to normal."

"Yeah..." Raph gives him a tight squeeze. "But you know what April said?"

"What?"

"That we'll do the hard part, 'cause we love him."

"Well, April is the only other smart one in this family," says Donnie, and Raph gives him a noogie with no actual pressure.

"Everything will be okay," he says. "Raph promises."

That seems to calm Donnie down. Raph just hopes he can actually keep it.

-----

It's his first night back in his room, and for the first time since escaping, Leo can't sleep.

He doesn't know why he can't. The sheets are the same as always. The dim lights from outside his subway car filter in through the windows the same as they used to. He's wearing his favorite pajamas, which have pants and long sleeves. The temperature is warm but not too hot. Conditions are perfect.

But he can't sleep.

At first he thought maybe it's because he's alone for the first time, but he doesn't think it's that. In fact, the idea of going to one of his brothers or his dad makes him feel even more exhausted. He loves them and he loves being around them, but he's had to work hard all day to not seem too weird. He caught himself chewing his spoon at lunch and had to stop. He paced the kitchen until Draxum gave the okay for him to have a snack. Mikey poked his head in while he was changing shirts earlier and he froze up, deer in the headlights. In the end, he went to the bathroom to change, because at least there aren't windows in there.

He's being weird, and trying to not be weird is taking all his energy.

So no. He's okay being alone right now. But something is still bothering him.

It's not the bed; he slept in the motel just fine. It's not the temperature, because they're making sure the lair stays nice and warm for him. And it's not the clothes, because the clothes are covering him up. And it's not the windows because it's not even like anyone is looking through them.

Right?

It's only then that Leo realizes he keeps staring out of them.

He tears his eyes away to look at the ceiling, taking deep breaths. What is he worried about? So what if the train car is full of windows? Who would even be looking at him? It's just his family outside, and if they need to talk to him they'll come in.

Besides, the windows are see-through. If someone were looking at him, he'd be able to see them.

Just to reassure himself of that, Leo looks around at all the windows again.

Yep. Still see-through. So it's fine. It's really not a big deal! No one is going to look through the windows at him here. No one is watching him. He's safe, and if he weren't, he would know, because he can see.

...Maybe he could hide under his bed.

Leo gives his head a hard shake. No. He is not going to hide under his bed, because that would be weird, and Leonardo Hamato is not weird.

Maybe he can just... put up some curtains in his room. Just, purely for aesthetic reasons. Yeah, that would look really cool. He could get some blue ones with some kind of sick design. Add some real originality to this place.

And then he could cover the windows and no one could look in unless he wanted them to.

Not that anyone is looking in, because he's home and he's safe and he's okay and he really wants to hide under his bed-

He takes deep breaths. His eyes land on the posters on the wall of the train car.

Maybe... maybe they would look better over the windows. Just... aesthetically.

He moves the posters to the windows of the train car, pressing hard to get the old tape to stick. It covers the immediate windows around his bed, but there are still others, and they're more in the dark, so Leo can't see who might be out there.

Not that anyone would be.

But if someone were, he wouldn't be able to know.

So he grabs towels next, and t-shirts, and anything he has lying around his room, and puts them on the bed. Then he sneaks to the kitchen to find a roll of masking tape.

It's not easy, but after about an hour he's managed to cover every window in the train car with something.

Just... a preview. For how sweet the curtains are going to look. And not for any weird reasons, like being scared.

Because he's not scared. He's home, and he's safe, and no one is watching him from outside the windows.

He lays down in bed and surveys his handwork. The room is even darker now, with every window covered, completely different from the stark ever-present light in that place.

It makes him feel safe and hidden.

No one can look in, and he's shielded by the dark.

(He has no idea how he's going to explain this tomorrow.)

But when he finally shuts his eyes, he sleeps like a baby.

-----

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 (here) | Part 4 Part A

[prettynice8]

Can you do a male reader cuckold? (Y/N) & Bakugo are in a relationship, and (y/n) gets railed by Izuku in front of Bakugo? Maybe as revenge for years of bullying? Thank you!

That's so cute

AGED UP! Izuku Midoriya x male reader (Bakugo x male reader)

This guy

Stuff: Cucking (DUH), swearing, smashing, Bakugo is a cuck lol, cheating but make it cute, Izuku is kind of a schemer, smashing, bottom reader, top Izuku, marking, reach around, full nelson.

TW: there is cheating and cucking, Bakugo is a little abusive

Word Count: 2,098

Notes: I kind of hate Bakugo so this is actually quite therapeutic.

Bakugo was a total fucking asshole. He didn't care what people thought, they were all simply extras. He didn't give a single fuck about anyone, except you.

You were practically his whole world. All he thought about now was your bright smile, enchanting eyes, and wonderful body. He was simply obsessed with you.

You were his new motivation for being a hero now, instead of being the best he mostly just cared about protecting you. Though even you never stopped him from being a total asshole to everyone around him, not even his love for you could stop that.

He still bullied Izuku to absolute filth, still calling him Deku and useless and an extra. Telling him to kill himself and just real heinous shit while you tried to get him to stop, which is the main thing Izuku would remember from the harsh bullying... you.

Sure, the words still stung, but the fact that you, Bakugo's own boyfriend, had tried to stop the cruel fighting. The way you would check up on Izuku made his heart swell, the fact that such a beautiful thing cared about him was heart swelling.

Such a shame you're dating a total fucking dick.

It wasn't particularly dramatic to say Izuku was in love with you, and it wasn't particularly dramatic to say everyone knew. The way he stares at you from across the room, the way he always tries to talk or hang out with you as much as possible, and the way he constantly showers you with compliments and favors. He would always just say that you're his friend so why wouldn't he buy you 100 dollars' worth of stuff, that's what friends do.

You never really thought much about it, he's been your friend for so long, before you even started dating Bakugo, so it's normal how Izuku would always stare at you for a little too long, or how his touches were always a little more lingering than necessary, but Bakugo on the other hand.

He fucking hated how obvious Izuku was about his affections, acting as though is feelings for you were merely platonic. He couldn't stand how you would still hang out with him, which caused many fights, just like the one you're having with him right now.

"I don't see the problem." You stated, confused on why Bakugo was still yelling at you for hanging out with Izuku.

"The problem is that you're a fucking idiot who can't see he clearly wants to fuck you!" He yelled, furious at your naivety.

"Friends don't just do the things he does, I've seen the way he looks at you, the way you let him touch you and it just makes me sick!" He shouted out, his frustration ever growing.

"He's been my friend longer than I've dated you, you can't just expect me to drop him because you're insecure." You exclaimed, growing tired of his constant jealousy.

"INSECURE?! You listen here! The problem isn't me being insecure, the problem is that you're a fucking slut who doesn't see the most basic shit in the world, like how he clearly wants to fuck that already used asshole of yours!" Bakugo yelled out, saying anything he can to hurt you, so you'll come to your senses.

You have no words to say to him, you stand there utterly speechless and in shock at his harsh words. Finally, a sound comes out of your mouth, but not an apology like Bakugo had hoped for, but sobs, sobs that get choked out from the tears that are rushing down your face.

Bakugo wants to reach out and hold you, try to comfort you, but his pride and anger are far bigger than his care for your feelings at the moment.

"Of course you're fucking crying, god you're such a little bitch, why do I even bother with you." He said coldly, his pride getting the better of him.

With that you finally storm off from the conversation, after having had enough of his jealous and cruel antics. You run off into the hall of the dorms until accidentally running into a very special someone.

"O-oh god, are you okay y/n?" Izuku asked kindly and with genuine concern, holding you in a tight hug while you cry into his broad chest.

You were still rather speechless, and even if you tried to talk the words would only get choked down by your sobs; so, you stand there crying into the Izuku while he tries desperately to comfort you, running his hand through your hair (or scalp if you're bald and beautiful).

After a few more pets of his hand, you eventually pull away and prepare to speak. "Shit, sorry for making your shirt all gross." You apologized.

"You're fine, I only care about why you were crying." He replied, his concern for you overshadowing any care for his clothes.

"Bakugo is fucking dick, that's what." You stated, your previous sadness having now grown into righteous anger.

After you said that a wave of understanding and pity washed over Izuku's face, but also a hint of... joy.

"Yeah, Kachan can be a little.... rude sometimes." Izuku understated, clearly wanting more to say.

"He's a fucking heart breaker who I want to die." You said coldly, you upset feelings being fully angry at this point.

"Don't say that he's your boyfriend." Izuku stated, though he secretly enjoyed how angry you were getting over Bakugou.

"I just want to hurt him back, like with what he did to me-" You were going to say more until you were suddenly interrupted by Izuku's lips on your own.

You were so stunned that you didn't know what to do, so you just stood there in shock, unable to do anything to be kissed by him. Izuku realizes your stunned expression and pulls away.

"Fuck, sorry, I just thought..." He apologized, looking into your eyes with his own pleading and hoping you won't be too mad.

"Thought what?" you asked, not particularly mad at his actions, just surprised and confused.

"Well, I thought that if you wanted to hurt Bakugo, I have pretty good idea for that." Izuku stated, the gears turning in his head.

"How?" you asked again, your interest officially piqued.

"I was thinking that he gets awfully upset whenever I'm around you, so..." He let on, hoping you'll get the hint.

"So, like, kiss me when he's around." You replied, looking intently at Izuku, with all this mischievous planning of his you're finally realizing how... hot he is.

"I was more so thinking; he walks in on me fucking your brains out." He answered flatly, as one does.

You're face erupts in blush at the thought of having sex with Izuku, not only do you get to piss of Bakugo, but you also get to fuck the guy that's looking hotter by the minute. The nice and timid boy Izuku used to be is seemingly overtaken by this new bold, horny, and incredibly sexy version, not that you're complaining.

"But how do you know he'll walk in on us?" you asked, still a little confused on how the plan is actually going to work.

"Just leave it to me." He said before going back to kissing your lips.

Instead of standing there stunned like the last time, you reciprocate the kiss instantly, wrapping your arms around Izuku's neck, pulling him closer in and deepening the kiss. He responds by picking you up bridal style and leads you both to your room, his master plan already set in motion.

Izuku gently lays you on the bed and goes right back to kissing your lips, in which you open your mouth so his tongue could enter, which he takes instant action at, shoving his tongue into your mouth, exploring every inch.

The kiss is so passionate that you can't get enough, wrapping your legs around his waist, grinding your now hard and clothed dick against his own. He responds to this by doing the same, syncopating the rhythm with your own.

But just grinding isn't near enough, within an instant he strips you both naked, that superhero training being used in ways All Might never thought possible.

With both of you now being completely naked, there was nothing stopping him from putting his achingly hard dick into your readily awaiting ass.

But before he can get to the fun part, he knows he has to do the nice thing and prepare you before just shoving it in like Bakugo did.

He starts by inserting one finger in, slowly pumping it in and out until you're ready for a second one. With two fingers he opens you up more and more, until he's even able to fit 3 in. With that he stops adding more and sticks with fitting three of his fingers inside you.

Once he believes you're ready for the real thing, he takes all three of his fingers and looks into your eyes sweetly.

"You ready?" He asked, knowing that his cock might be a bit difficult to deal with.

"Yeah, I'm so ready." You answered, touched that he asked, something Bakugo never did, and a little worried about having to fit such a fat cock inside you, one that's much bigger than Bakugo's.

With your words he starts putting his massive dick into your evidently tight hole, since he can barely even fit the tip in. He starts laying little kisses all over your face before finally meeting your mouth, which he deeply kisses. This kiss is very different from the previous ones, instead of lust and passion it's all about love and pleasantness, relaxing you enough to where he can fit a little bit more of his cock in.

He starts slowly going in, deeper and deeper until finally he's able to bottom out inside of you, his entire cock filling you up very nicely. Izuku stays like that for a while, waiting for you to fully relax with him inside you. He stares at you awaiting a response, until you finally nod, and with that he is raring to go.

He starts with slow thrusts, wanting your hole to get more acquainted with his cock, but eventually he starts to find a quicker and steady pace.

As he goes faster you moans get louder, his massive cock hitting your prostate with little to no effort. You look up at Izuku and notice how sweetly he's staring back at you, his hands cupping your hips with a bruising grip. His eyes look so kind, even though he's wrecking your insides you can't help but look back at him with the same look.

This all goes out the door though when you hear footsteps coming along, which leads Izuku to forgo the nice thing and just start destroying your asshole.

He rams into you at near inhuman speeds, hitting your prostate hard with every quick thrust, his cock almost splitting you open. He continues this insane pace and power even after the door opens.

As if on cue, Bakugo walks in right as you cum, hard, all over Izuku's chest, Izuku isn't far after, cumming deep inside your hole. After that Izuku picks you up into his lap, facing you towards Bakugo. His cock quickly hits hard again as he slowly picks you up full nelson style and sits you back on his dick, his rough and calloused hand coming to wrap around your newly hard cock, all the while looking Bakugo dead in the eyes.

"Hey, Bakugo." He states, using his real name and not the stupid nickname he would usually use, but that's not the only thing that's changed. His cute smirk is now a devilish grin, and his voice is deep and almost chilling, making you even more horny for the man.

Bakugo does nothing but stand there in utter shock as he watches his boyfriend get used and abused by his worst enemy, this was Izuku's plan all along, since the first time he found out you started dating Bakugo.

He knew Bakugo would be a terrible boyfriend, and he knew you would immediately come to him if you ever had a problem with him, after all he was your best friend, so why wouldn't you. He also knew that you were quite petty and would easily agree to this kind of thing, and of course everything worked out splendidly.

Everything is going exactly as he wanted, not only is Bakugo crying on the floor, but he also gets to make love to the man he's obsessed with, you.

THE END

[yoyomomiko]

Hello so I have a Daisuke x reader request if you don't mind! I loved the make out story you did and so if you don't mind Daisuke and reader making out an Daisuke bitting HARD on reader skin like this 😨 hard so hard that the EVERYONE could notice it and how it go to that point like if you don't mind

You don't have to do! If you don't want! Have a nice day!

Pairings: Daisuke x F!reader

Warnings: BITING; marking; hickeys, SUGGESTIVE (kinda nsfw, so mdni I guess??), cringe, not proofread, probably contains grammar mistakes, english isn't my first language!!

(A/N): I had a little bit too much fun writing this😨 THIS IS SO GROSS AND CRINGE WHAT DO I DO😣 Btw I like, haven't posted a fic in so long lol, I'm really sorry and all, I'm a bit late🤠 -> m.list

Daisuke's hands were both on opposite sides of your head, your legs wrapped around his waist and hands thrown loosely over his shoulders.

His lips were pressed to yours in a deep, heated kiss. He gently bit your bottom lip, as if asking for you to open your mouth. You let out a soft gasp and slowly parted your lips, his tongue immediately finding its way inside and twirling around with your own.

After a few moments, he pulled away, panting. You were breathing heavily, chest heaving up and down as you stared at him, watching him gaze back at you with love filling his eyes. You adored the way his hair fell down and over his face most of the time when he was looking down at you, when you were in the same exact position as you were in right now.

Daisuke smiled at you, his face burying into your neck as he started leaving soft kisses down to your shoulder. You chuckled at the ticklish sensation, with the way his lips barely hovered onto your skin, lightly pressing kisses. One of his hands went to hold onto your waist, the other supporting him.

His gentle kisses slowly turned to sucking, earning whines from you. He left a few faint red marks on your shoulders that would surely fade away in a few hours, luckily not too visible.

Daisuke trailed his kisses to your jaw, your hands tangling in his hair. All of the sudden, he bit down on your neck, digging his teeth into your skin and drawing out a yelp from you as you pulled on his hair. He gently licked the mark, sucking to soothe the pain.

Daisuke pulled back as he chuckled, staring down at you with nothing but joy in his eyes. He admired his work, eyes scanning over the faint red splotches, until he came upon the one he just gave you a few seconds prior. It slowly turned into a dark purple spot, right on your upper neck, on display to anybody passing by.

"Sorry." He smiled at you, to wich you raised a brow in confusion.

"You might need to cover that up." He added, nuzzling his face into your neck as you slowly came to the realization that yes, he did leave a noticeable mark.

"I thought we talked about where you place your kisses." You sighed out, fighting a smile at his stupidity.

"We did?"

You shook your head, knowing it was pointless. Just how would you walk around the ship now?

...

...

You thought you were slick enough.

You pulled your uniform collar a bit higher, covering over the mark perfectly.

What you didn't know, was that if you even tilted your head slightly, it would be completely evident.

...

...

CURLY

You were hurrying out of Daisuke's room, hoping not to be seen by others, scanning the area and making sure no one was there.

You fixed up your hair a bit, pulling the collar of your uniform higher.

Your shoes tapped on the floor, rushing through the hallways. You weren't even looking up ahead, eyes glued to your feet.

You raised your head just in time to prevent yourself from crashing into your captain, forcing your legs to stop abruptly.

You smiled nervously, looking at him and giving a short nod as a greeting, to wich he reciprocated.

Although his eyes seemed to linger on you for a while longer, his brows furrowing as he studied you.

"You okay?" He asked, his expression one of curiosity and hesitance.

"Yeah... Why wouldn't I be?" You replied, your brow arching in confusion.

"No reason... Carry on." He nodded, giving an unsure smile as he walked away, leaving you dumbstruck.

...

It HAD to have been a hickey. He knew it too well. He was aware of how one looked like... But that mark specifically looked more like teeth marks to him. As if someone bit down onto you.

Curly was a bit perplexed. He didn't remember there being a rule against relationships among the crew... But then again, who was it?

His suspicion was aimed at Daisuke, since you two are in close age range and always hang out together.

JIMMY

Your feet dragged on the floor lazily, humming to yourself on your way to meet Anya.

Just then, you saw Jimmy walking towards your direction. You didn't like Jimmy.

You almost rolled your eyes, but you gave a quick wave so he doesn't think you're an asshole.

He gave a nod back, before stopping briefly to look at you. He stared you down, eyes going wide and a frown forming on his lips.

"What the hell happened to you?" He asked in disgust, studying you.

You raised a brow as you tilted your head to the side in confusion.

"What do you mean?"

He sighed and shook his head, looking straight ahead again.

"Nevermind... slut." He mumbled the last part, chuckling as he walked away.

You swore you heard him insult you, but you just didn't hear him well enough, therefore there was no evidence.

...

He knew DAMN WELL.

Fingers pointed proudly at Daisuke.

Jimmy always had a feeling you two were a bit TOO close, not co-workers type of close, neither friends type of close.

He just didn't expect the dumbass to have a chance, let alone manage to get into your pants.

ANYA

After all of those uncomfortable encounters and awkward situations, you finally stopped in front of the medical room, where Anya was currently working.

Before you could enter, Anya herself came out of the room, a bit surprised to see you there as she flinched, before smiling quickly.

"Oh, you scared me..." She spoke, her eyes studying your face before they stopped at a specific spot.

Her brows furrowed a little, seeming concerned.

"Are you alright?" She asked, thinking it was maybe a rash, or possibly even allergies.

"Hm? Why wouldn't I be?" You questioned, squinting your eyes at her.

Everybody's been acting weird today...

Anya's eyes widened for a brief second as she took a closer look, her lips parting before they shut closed. She felt a weird burning feeling through her chest, and her mind just fogged up. Did something bad happen to you?

But you seemed happy... Maybe a little tense, but happy nonetheless. She thought back to all the times she's caught you and Daisuke in each other's rooms, brushing it off as just "friends talk", or all the times she's seen you two chatting a bit too smug in the hallways, also every single time she's heard you two flirt with each other. The corners of her mouth were fighting for life, trying to hold back a smile.

"No, nevermind, I think you should check up on that." She suggested, patting your shoulder and walking past you.

"Wait, I wanted to tell you something!"

"Check up on Daisuke while you're at it..." She whispered to herself, letting out a quiet giggle.

Your brows raised, lips forming a thin line. Just what the hell was going on?

...

It was hard to believe that YOU would actually do such a thing. She just couldn't think of her friend doing stuff like this.

She knew all too well it was Daisuke.

Another thing is that she was incredibly shocked at the fact that Daisuke managed to leave such a mark on you, she pondered for a while and came to the conclusion that it must've hurt like hell.

SWANSEA

You felt weird, getting scanned by your crew members' eyes and maybe even judged by some.

So why not try and find Daisuke, pretty much the only person who know how to comfort you best?

Of course, he'd be with Swansea.

You opened the door, but your boyfriend wasn't there, only the same grumpy man.

"What do you want?" Swansea asked, before turning to look at you.

"Just looking for Daisuke." You replied, taking a quick glance around the room.

"Are you okay?" He asked, squinting his eyes at you.

"Everyone's been asking me that, I don't get it!" You didn't bother responding, your brows furrowing as you started getting a bit irritated.

"Pull up your collar or something. Damn animals..." He muttered that last part, going back to his work as you stood there in utter shock.

So that's what was wrong.

...

Swansea already knew it. All too well.

Daisuke was just praising you so much, talking his ear off, mentioning every single detail you had.

Since the airhead can't keep secrets too well, he managed to accidentally spill it out one day.

But it wasn't like Swansea didn't know, he's caught you two together a couple of times, he just never talked about it.

...

You felt your cheeks heat up as you tugged harshly on your collar to pull it up, wanting the ship to crash right at this moment.

Screw you Daisuke. Screw your boyfriend for embarrassing you in front of everyone.

★yoyomiko ★miko

[kalims]

Can I please request any Twst character seeing their crush kiss their tsum?

⊹ kissing their tsum tsum

premise. maybe leaving their tsum somewhere to come back to wasn't such a good idea anymore when it's clearly taking the attention of the person they like.

parts. floyd (i somehow forgot him help)

content. gender neutral reader

characters. riddle, leona, jack, epel, sebek

cw. written by someone who hasn't played through the event and does not know shit lol

note. are they just plushies??? or do they have a consciousness of their own??? I am so confused but wow I wrote somehow

I just slapped whoever had cards on the event onto here 😭 caters part is my favorite ugh

riddle rosehearts

left his tsum in it's custom made velvet chair to grab another jar of sugar since riddle didn't know it ran out.

and yes, he had one made for it. smaller version of his own and stuff, it literally has better privileges than any other resident of the dorm.

^ he totally drinks tea with it and believes that even if it isn't actually alive it's him and if this tsum didn't drink tea at the exact time for a specific rule he still feels like he broke one.

he even pours a cup for it hekasbkqkas.

I mean the liquid doesn't get drank by anyone obviously but riddle still does it.

so as he's walking back, opening the chair to take a peek to see if it's enough cubes once he closes it, and looks up he almost just trips on air and drops the glass jar.

he fumbles with the object for a second, blinking rapidly at the sight of you snuggling into his tsum then giving it little kisses every now and then, did he hear you calling it cute—?

"wha...what in the world are you doing?!"

"it's so adorable.." you mumble, hearing the boy but it just goes in one ear and out the other.

good lord he doesn't know whether he'd like to melt into a puddle, combust from his red face, or be that tsum.

should he be jealous? no. but is he? yeah. even if he's denying it severely.

next session the tsum was left with no tea and was promptly caged in his room in hopes that you would not do all that to his tsum, and to his real self instead.

leona kingscholar

I honestly don't think he would really care for it??

I mean wow. it looks like him. cool. whatever. what's he supposed to do with it? it's just a plush no need to work up so much for it.

not that doing effort for it benefits him in anyone but he just keeps it on his bed since he didn't really wanna go anywhere else and his bed just happened to be near so...

*yoink*

no one tells him this, especially not ruggie but he actually sleeps with it. an arm over it sometimes and usually coddling it in his arms.

trust me ruggie has proof.

100 madol for 5 seconds fr

well as usual it's in his bed just there in it's habitat just like the real leona kingscholar.

even someone like him takes the time to actually go to the bathroom so while he's gone, and when he's on his way back he immediately knows you're there.

that's a scent he can recognize anywhere (well duh. bro spent so long tryna engrave it) and if he can smell you so close to his destination then obviously you're in his room.

also he left the door slightly closed and it's more open than before so that's that.

just like anyone else he completely stops before he could open his mouth and is actually flabbergasted and flustered?

why are you kissing his tsum?? "that's kinda creepy ain't it?" he drawls but his tucked ears says I wanna be it so bad.

"guess i'm creepy then."

you say simply and go back to coddling the damn thing. leona scowls at the relevation. there's no way a small, lame version of him is gonna win you like that!

move over so you can enjoy the real thing >:(

jack howl

mr. everyday is leg, arm, everything day guy.

I believe he's more of an outdoors dude, a very sweet outdoors dude.

the kind of sweet outdoors dude that would buy a miniature plushie version of weights for his tsum so it can get the eveyday is leg, arm, everything day too.

cute thing is jack is actually so proud of himself 😭 evident from the cute lil' wag of tail he does.

he's so pure!!

and him and his tsum totally 'work out' together.

well it's mainly him but he likes to think that his tsum is too. if he's doing an exercise that doesn't require a lot of moving his tsum is just there somewhere with it's weights facing him.

if he's running he has it on his shoulders awww..

sometimes he can get a little distracted though. from his intense focus he didn't even hear you approaching, let alone sitting down and basically hogging his tsum all to yourself!

at some point you just made the tsum copy whatever the real jack does. jack is doing push-ups? damnn.. tsum is doing is so easily.

you get the point.

it's only then when jack notices when he hears you and mistakes your comment for him.

"ahh, you did great cutie.. so strong, so cute." he hears you mumble and turns pink before turning back to look at you and the happy movement of his wolf traits pause.

oh that wasn't for him.

jack stares in envy. HE SWEARS THAT TSUM JUST SMIRKED AT HIM.. LITERALLY TRAITOR.

man just feels betrayed.

cater diamond

absolutely adores him tsum to bits!!

ever since he got it he practically drags it everywhere and his magicam page is full of it.

I reckon cater named it. maybe dia(mond) or something, if not then the classic cater 2.0 which is funny cause now he got 3 clones!!

^ the other two and now lil' cater 🎤

which makes me wonder. it'd totally be cute if he had like, two other tsums that are copies of the result of his unique magic. now it's actually cater 2.0 for real!

cater 2.0 is definitely more popular than some students so you could go up to one and say: you know who this is *picture of random student*

they'll be like: ehh... can't say I do, or seen them before

you holding up a picture of cater 2.0: what about this?

them: oh thats cater 2.0 obviously!

random student crying in the backround.

IMAGINEEE (laughs in pain)

ahem. he likes to have his tsums (tsums cause he actually got 3 to match himself) around everywhere so he can incorporate them into his selfies.

also he needs to feed everyone more cater 2.0's content. there's cater D, cater I, and cater A who all spell out dia :DD big brain

in the music room of his club where's he's peacefully testing out a riff behind him his tsums lay..

so obviously he didn't hear you shuffle into the room, let out the quietest gasp ever and just take the three into your arms and look like you're in heaven.

you stay like that for a while, smiling and hugging the tsums cause wow were they just adorable! and there's three of them!

you all spare the three a sweet kiss before realizing that the music has stopped and cater is pouting at you.

"aw that isn't fair!" he whined, and smiles cheekily. "these guys and I want some of that too!" he points to his two splits that has recently conjured.

now you got three miniature caters that got the kiss, and three real caters that want one yayy!

sebek zigvolt

said he was not going to care for.. something like that and if there was anything like.. that, the only thing he'd care of was one of malleus'.

then said that 'he wanted to educate the plush' even though it was a plush. he's already contradicting himself here, where's the hate??

legit just rambled to the plush for an hour straight preaching about the greatness and glory of his young master.

where silver actually woke up from! silver!! crazy, right?

it must have been a lot of even silver rose from it.

said he was not going to spend anything on it unlike the other people who had spent a hefty amount of madol for the comfort of their tsum and for them alone.

but he figured.. just getting a small painting of the young master so the tsum would look at it everyday isn't too much of a stretch.

that's what he said before and now he's on his way to get another smaller version merch of malleus.

god forbid if malleus ever came inside the room cause he's just gonna see a lot of stuff.. but don't worry cause sebek atleast has a separate corner for all that.

'I will not care for it' my ass.

of course he had completely forgotten that he had invited you over and was outside fetching his blade he forgot to bring inside.

as per dorm rules! don't want it flying away anywhere if a.. *coughs* storm suddenly appears.

lilia had already invited you in and insisted it was fine for you to enter sebek's room beforehand even with your doubts he just pushed you in and you weren't in a place to argue when he didn't even budge when you tried to stop.

once you just walked around out of curiosity it was only in due time where you would see the plush.

an idea pops in your head.

sebek did not expect to see you inside his room.

let alone on his bed, with his tsum in your arms and you dutifully committing yourself into showering it with love and affection.

he's just flabbergasted, shocked to silence, every synonym near to those. but there's an increasing amount of steam pouring out of his ears as his face twitches more by the minute.

"WHAT ARE YO—"

you kiss it so casually that sebek shuts up and almost faints out of embarrassment and fluster.

WHAT IS GOING ON?? he's so confused. WHO LET YOU IN??

bat chuckling somewhere

epel felmier

would very much like to dress up his tsum.

he knows because vil already saw the tsum looking like a monstrosity covered in dirt and leaves, only spared a disappointed look but stayed silent.

not in the way you'd think cause he feels like he can do whatever he'd like to this tsum and vil wouldn't really care like the man would to real epel.

a hallelujah for him honestly.

he doesn't really put much love to his tsum but it's pretty cute that's all. rook finds it way more appealing than him though which he isn't sure how to interpret.

epel doesn't leave it just anywhere when it's outside of pomefiore. cause students there are polite and definitely would not wreck a plushie that looks exactly like him.

if he did the tsum would probably disappear on campus and be found in a dumpster.

*chills* cause he somehow feels for the tsum.

when he's angry he just vents to it and vents whenever. including the times he's just having a crisis about you.

if that tsum was alive godddd epel would be so exposed.

he left the tsum somewhere outside, in the middle of the garden.

he was practicing his make-up there, as per vil's instructions and went out to go fetch a product he had forgotten to grab along with the others.

he figured he might as well take a cup of water as a drink to go.

epel is just gulping down the water when it's just coincidence that he lowers the cup, sees you, there's water still in his mouth, then you give his tsum a little cute kiss so he just spits it all out.

OH MY GOD WHAT WAS THAT. he thought completely out of it. he stares intensely at the tsum.

he's definitely regretting venting to the tsum about you cause epel somehow thinks it's somehow alive and is now rizzing you up, with the knowledge HE gave IT!

he's so mad help 😭

*epel trying to aggressively rizz you up too*

"you don't need that." *snatches and throws the tsum away*

IN JEALOUSY.

meanwhile you watch it fly with sad eyes. :(

mad epel.

note. jesus christ I wrote all of this RIGHT AFTER I posted that /srs ☹ AND I DID ALL THIS IN LIKE AN HOUR HELP ME WHERE DID THAT COME FROM

commision me!

[torukmaktoskxawng]

the perfect fit

Pairing: Aged up!Ao'nung x Aged up Fem!Metkayina!Reader

Request by: @froggieface

Warnings: NSFW, minors DNI, aged-up characters, rough smut, p in v, mentions of choking, nudity, creampie, cock warming, dirty talk, etc.

Words: 3k+

Taglist: @aonungmyaddiction (because you wanted to be tagged in anything Ao'nung related. I hope that's still okay!)

Prompts used: #17, Stealing or Sharing Clothes

Na'vi Words: ilu - plesiosaur like animal, marui - home/pod, tewng - loincloth, yawne - beloved, tsaheylu - the bond

A/N: Doesn't correlate with any Kinktober prompts, except for choking but we already surpassed that lol. Thanks for the wait and enjoy my first avatar x reader smut :) I did stray away from certain aspects from the original request so I'm sorry about that, was desperate to get it done.

~~~~~~~~~

It all started when Ao'nung had been in an ilu incident earlier that week. When helping herd a predator away from the reef, his ilu was startled and began to buck and swim wildly to the point where the poor thing couldn't figure out which way was up or down. Amidst the chaos, Ao'nung had been flung and shoved into bystanding coral, cutting up part of his right arm. His hunting party brought him home immediately after scaring away the danger. It was only a superficial, non-threatening wound. The cut was long but not deep, and Ao'nung had barely bled, but to refrain from swelling, his mother advised him not to wear his usual adornments on his arm for the rest of the week.

This brings Y/n to her current predicament, trying to find something new to wear for tonight's upcoming celebration for the new season. Scrounging around hers and Ao'nung's shared marui, she was partially frustrated that she hadn't made something new for this event even though she had known about it for weeks. Rummaging through her things, she had come up with some old tops and loincloths she hadn't worn in a while and thought they would be perfect for tonight's event. She might as well refresh her old style and make it new and exciting as she wanted to stand out, but over the years, she had started changing her style so much to the point where none of her current jewelry matched the older clothes. So now she was frustrated with herself that she, yet again, didn't make anything new for the festivities. 

She decides to rummage around her mate's things and immediately finds his armband, the one Ao'nung always wore but currently wasn't due to his small arm injury. Y/n beams while holding the armband, running her thumb over the sea hemp weaving and the scattered iridescent shell chips. She goes to place the band on her respective arm and feels a small pang of disappointment when she realizes it was too large. At the same time, she felt amused, and her cheeks felt warm, knowing that her mate's arms were more prominent. Scrambling for ideas on what to do with the armband instead, a small, devious thought crossed Y/n's mind.

~~~~~~~~~

Later at the celebration, Ao'nung will see what devious thought that would be for himself. He hadn't been able to meet back up with Y/n before the day turned to night and the festivities rolled around.  The communal fire was set ablaze, and the drums and singing had already started before Ao'nung finally caught a glance of his lovely mate.

He and Rotxo were standing off to the side and watching the dancers swirl around the fire like a wave, working forward and back on the shoreline. Ao'nung was looking around to see if he could spot Y/n among all the dancers before Rotxo nudged him, grabbing his attention. His friend is pointing off to the long row of dancers, eyebrows scrunched in confusion and recognition.

"Hey. Isn't that your armband?"

Ao'nung follows Rotxo's gaze and his finger, finally finding Y/n in the crowd. She was wearing a beautifully beaded top and a matching loincloth that Ao'nung didn't recognize, but greatly appreciated the way the outfit looked on his mate's body, admiring how the band holding up her loincloth hugged her hips and accentuated the color of her skin, making the cloth itself look as though its covering Y/n by itself. The top was made of seagrass dyed a light blue color, so light to the point where it nearly blended in with the rest of Y/n, giving off the impression she was practically nude. Many bystanders' jaws dropped and they had to look a second time just to realize that she was, in fact, clothed, then they all continued to watch her in awe. Y/n was none the wiser, more focused on the dancing than the people around her.

And settled around her neck, acting as a choker, was Ao'nung's favorite iridescent shell armband.

Ao'nung's eyes could not leave her neck, gaze completely fixated on that very familiar armband that Y/n was treating as a necklace. It was a perfect fit, he noted in amazement and a growing fascination. A band that could easily fit over his arm was now perfectly snug against his mate's beautiful neck and Ao'nung almost envied it. He envied the fact that his armband was currently wrapped around Y/n's neck and whatever warmth that was growing in his gut made it known. The flash of hot jealousy blazes through Ao'nung's body, heating up his skin in a way the communal fire couldn't, his envy perfectly residing alongside the hot desire he also felt. He had to refrain from gaping like a fool by clamping his mouth shut, forcefully swallowing back whatever stupid sounds he nearly let out at the sight of his woman.

Y/n could feel eyes on her, all around the ceremonial fires. So many people were looking at her, and while she didn't visibly show it, her skin was hot under so much attention, but her mind was only focused on one. Her gaze flicks to the spot where she last saw Ao'nung, and to her delight, he was already staring at her, unwavering while Rotxo was none the wiser. Y/n knew that look from anywhere, and a warm stirring made itself known between her legs, fired by the heated gaze that was her mate. Suddenly, Y/n didn't feel up to dancing anymore. At least, not the public celebrating kind.

She easily slipped away from the party without any protests, waiting until the song changed to swiftly break from the dance circle. Her skin cooled as she drew further away from the bonfires, walking into the night, her feet sinking into the sand. Y/n made her way to the nearest floating pathway and lifted herself up, standing up straight and peering over her shoulder back the way she came. Sure enough, another figure had crept away from the celebration, and her adrenaline stirred once more when she recognized the hair and tattoos anywhere. The figure was heading toward Y/n, picking up speed, and so, while barely containing her excitement, the young woman turned and sprinted down the walkways weaving through the village, never taking the time to look back again until she could get to the marui.  

Not a second into stepping into her home, Y/n was ambushed by the figure that caught up behind her, a laugh forced out of her lungs when large, strong arms wrapped around her from behind and carried her further into the pod. Catching her breath, Y/n's laughter was quickly replaced by breathy moans as Ao'nung swiftly hid his face and kissed her neck. He didn't start off slow or gentle, his teeth only determined to mark and brand, especially around the area where his armband rested around her neck.

The moment she tried to grind her backside against his loincloth earned a low growl from him before he purposely pulled away, spinning her around to face him. Y/n immediately leaned in for a kiss, but instead, Ao'nung grabbed her arms and shoved her down onto the sleeping mat, just hard enough to get her to gracefully trip and get his point across. Once lying on her back, Y/n's heart stuttered with the way her mate stood over her, strong shoulders rising and falling with his heavy breaths, muscles clenching up and down his arms as his hands curled into tight fists. He looked feral, teeth grinding together to further show just how much he was restraining himself from practically tearing her apart, only doing so with his eyes, the color in his orbs vanished in exchange for the deep-rooted hunger.

Ao'nung watches his woman for a moment, her body laid out on the mat, squirming under his gaze, eyes completely fixed on him. Her top was barely covering her hardening nipples, her breasts rising and falling quickly to compliment her small, excited gasps of air. She makes a subtle movement, her knees knocking together as she closes her legs. She thought Ao'nung wouldn't notice, but all of his senses were heightened in his arousal and his eyes quickly darted to the small movement. Y/n whimpered, wishing to rub her legs together for some much-needed friction, but felt her whole body freeze under her husband's gaze, unwilling to move without his permission.

The marui slipped into silence while Ao'nung's eyes raked up and down her body, analyzing her, before another growl slipped out of his lips and he knelt down, crawling over his mate's body and pressing his hips to flush against hers. She lets out a small gasp, arching her back to meet his body heat, wishing more than anything to grind against his loincloth. Aside from pressing down onto her, he doesn't move the way she needs him to. Instead, he ducked his head back down into the juncture of her neck, his words hot and prickling her skin, "You have no idea what you do to me, wearing that around your neck. Do you have any idea how much self-control I had to quickly gain before I could foolishly march over to you and put my hand around its respective spot, right around your throat?"

She felt her whole body shiver, closing her eyes as she tried to imagine it. Her womb definitely flutters at the idea of Ao'nung marching up to her in the middle of a party, not caring if other people see when he wraps his hand around her neck and squeezes. She imagined other things, too, like Ao'nung taking her right in the middle of that celebration, never letting up until she orgasmed at least three times. 

Her thoughts are cut short as he begins to kiss down her body while his hand lightly rests on her collar, just shy of her neck, "Imagine all the restraint I had to possess before I could make it known how jealous I was to see my armband around your throat when my hands are literally right here, ma'yawntu."

His kisses reach below her belly button and her legs move on their own to create room for him, spreading apart despite the desire to rub together and create friction. She finds comfort in his weight pressing down between her legs, pushing her tewng aside as she sighs up at the ceiling, "I'm sorry. You can wrap your hands around me now, husband. Right where they belong."

"No," she squirms and whimpers as his hot breath fans over the wetness that began to slowly leak from her pussy, "You don't get whatever you want after pulling a stunt like that. You don't get to have the rush of my fingers tightening around your throat tonight. You should've thought of that before taking my armband as a replacement," his fingers that lay on her collar faintly tap the shells of her new choker, "Now, as punishment, you get to keep wearing this... and only this."

He pulls away from the heat of her cunt and she softly cries at the loss. He moves his way up her body again, removing both of their clothing as he goes, until there is nothing left between them other than the choker, as promised. And Eywa above, the moon was peeking through their home and reflecting off of the damned piece of jewelry, hugging Y/n's neck gently and glowing as if it was made of magic. She looked like a goddess, her cheeks flushed and hair in disarray, the glowing necklace further complimenting the lust in her eyes, half-lidded while looking up at her mate. Ao'nung would normally take the time to memorize this moment, distracted by her beauty and wishing to draw out every soft sigh and moan out of her perfectly formed lips. But the glint coming off of the choker quickly reminded him of the possessiveness he felt earlier, and suddenly he was going back to ravaging her body, relentless in making her squeal and move either away or toward his mouth wherever he kissed or bit down. He was charged up and barely able to form a clear thought through the haze in his head, his instincts only focusing on one thing.

She was so caught up in the bites and kisses mapping out her skin, she failed to notice that Ao'nung had moved his other hand down his own body and ran his fingers along his bulging slit, urging his huge, leaking erection to slip out. She's not given a warning before she feels his large cock slowly push into her, a little snug and making the most obscured squelching noises. Y/n stutters out a loud gasp, squeezing her eyes shut, "Ah-- agnh-!"

She's barely wet enough to make the intrusion easy, so there's a pleasant pain mixing in with the pleasure, that familiar tightness deep in her gut slowly forming, warm with a promise of undeniable pleasure. With her eyes closed, she's unable to see when Ao'nung will be fully seated into her, so the sensation that he was still slowly pushing in only heightened her desperation for more. Imagine her surprise when she thought he was all the way in and he still kept going. It was agonizingly slow and she held her breath through it all, right up until she felt the tip of his cock prod against the soft wall of her womb, his pelvis now flushed against hers once again, finally fully seating him inside her tight, warm walls.

There wasn't any time for adjusting as Ao'nung quickly pulled out and thrust back in, moving his mate up the mat at the force of his hips. Y/n could only take it, knowing her own hips would bruise in the morning by the strength of his thrusts, pistoning in and out of her wet heat, "Ah-- Ao'nung! W-Wait--"

Her words had the opposite effect, and Ao'nung's hands reached down to tightly grab hold of her legs, lifting them up into the air and pressing them down against Y/n until her knees were practically hugging her head, folding her in half. It's just the leverage he needed to go faster, mercilessly pounding into her body, showing off his fangs as he watched his cock spread her glistening lower lips apart, the tight muscle ring hugging around him now puffy from the abuse. The stretch is erotic and borderline painful, filling Y/n without any chance of leaving any room inside while her hands frantically look for a perch to hold onto. One hand grabs the back of her own thigh while the other finds its home around the back of Ao'nung's neck. The pinch of her eyebrows that usually represents pain finally smoothens out into pleasure around the same time Ao'nung noticed it was getting easier to thrust in and out, the wet slick from her pussy drenching both of their thighs and sticking whenever their hips meet. 

Ao'nung slips out a groan when he feels the tightness of her walls clenching around his length, gripping him in waves of ecstasy, "Feels... so good..."

"Don't stop," Y/n tilts her head back to lean against the mat, her neck fully exposed and presenting that sinful armband that got this whole thing started, "Oh, Eywa, please don't stop!"

"First you wanted me to wait, now you don't want meet to stop," the glint in his eye was dangerous as a grin slowly formed on his lips, presenting his fangs again. He clicks his tongue while shaking his head, "Tsk, which will it be, yawne?"

"Mmf!" Her answer is silenced by the sharp thrust of his hips pushing into hers once more, the tip of his cock hitting just the right spot to make her see stars, "O- Oh! Do that again, please! Feel so good, Ao'nung-! So strong and--"

She cuts herself off when his cock thrusts back in and hits her sweet spot once more, drawing an elongated moan out of her lips. Taking a deep breath, Y/n pleasantly feels her new choker gently hugging her neck when inhaling, only for the air to get knocked out of her again when Ao'nung pulls out and shoves his way back into her dripping pussy, gritting through his teeth when feeling his length begin to tighten and leak, "And?"

Tears began to prick in the corner of her eyes. Her peak felt so close and yet so far away like a crash waving that was quickly receding back and forth, back and forth, denying her that climax, "Big! It's so big. Please, my love, please don't stop!"

A coil snaps and Ao'nung's movements suddenly turn primal. He stops thrusting for only a moment, making Y/n cry and spill her tears, desperate and frustrated for her release. He makes quick work to lie down on his side and pull Y/n into his arms, his cock still buried to the hilt inside of her. Tightening his strong arms completely around her body, he's got his mate completely restrained, pressed tightly against the front of his body as he finally moves his hips again, quicker than before and pounding into her bruised cunt without any sign of stopping. Y/n's cries and hot pants in his ear only drive the animal out of him, his arms further tightening around her like a constricting snake, taking whatever he wants without any room for denial. His cock was so unbelievably hard now and pulsing, desperate for release, his thrusts becoming sloppy and erratic, "Yawne... fuck, yawne I need you to cum before me. Can you do that? Can you cum on this cock before this cock cums inside you?"

The promise of Ao'nung finishing inside her thrills Y/n to the point she felt lightheaded, her imagination running wild with her pussy clenching around his cock at the very thought of it, drawing out another string of curses from him. He has one of her legs wrapped around his waist in this position, splitting her open on his fat cock and dragging his length against her walls over and over again, each time hitting her cervix with his tip, right where he knows will have her seeing stars. Her thighs begin to tremble, unable to writh against him with his arms so tight around her.

She whimpered as he purposely stopped and dragged a slow, long thrust in and out of her, not speeding up until she finally remembered to answer, "Yes-- Yes! I wanna cum on your cock, Ao'nung. I need it so bad, fuck! I need you to cum inside of me. Please, claim me."

His hips pick up speed again and she has to bite her tongue to refrain from screaming, instead letting choked-out whines escape her throat. On top of his hips thrusting in and out of her, Ao'nung also uses his arms to move Y/n up and down on his cock, her nipples dragging up and down along his chest as he does so and driving her to gasp and spill all sorts of words out of her lips, praises and nicknames and curses and none of them entirely put together. The coil in her belly is wound so tight, practically oozing out the warm honey within, but not snapping and releasing. It's all too much and not enough to the point that Y/n is dumb on words and spewing nonsense. 

All she could smell was sweat and arousal and him, eyes still stinging with tears while the inside of her thighs are full of slick and Ao'nung's cock, pulsing inside her whenever he thrusts in, just as desperate to let go. She tilts her head up to look at him and watches as he grits his teeth, eyebrows furrowed together with eyes screwed shut, trying to focus so as not to cum early. He's whining and moaning, hissing between his teeth, his sweat sticking his curls to his face. He opens his eyes and looks down, seeing her eyes on him. Without a second thought, he reaches a hand up and curls into the hair on the back of her head, pulling until she bares her neck to him. Pain blooms where he pulled her hair and further blooms on her neck as he sinks his teeth into it, his growl vibrating into her skin and sending shockwaves down her body, "Cum for me, mate. Cum on my cock now."

She screams, holding onto him for dear life as the coil finally snaps, sending both herself and Ao'nung over the edge. Her walls were sporadically fluttering around him as she climaxes, strangling his cock until Ao'nung let out a guttural noise and his cock finally spills everything inside her, coating her walls and spurting thick ropes into her cervix. He couldn't help the loud panting groans he let out into her neck as his balls continued to empty, keeping it all trapped inside his mate.

He initially tries to stop, stilling his hips while continuing to pump and fill his love to the brim, but then her hands find his waist and urge him closer. Her voice is broken and a little hoarse as she desperately grinds down onto his dick, "Keep going... keep going, please!"

He does what she begs for and it's fucking amazing. Ao'nung had to grind his teeth together so that his moans and whimpers weren't heard outside of their marui, his cock now oversensitive from the continuous friction, a feeling he's never felt before since he's never fully ridden out his high. The friction also hits Y/n's clit with how close they're pressed together, and her eyes roll back into her head as another wave of pleasure runs through her, though more calm and minuscule compared to the last.

Ao'nung finally slows to a stop but doesn't pull out, keeping his softening cock inside of her, too warm and comfortable to even think about moving, her walls now rhythmically pulsing around him. The exhaustion doesn't hesitate to take over, arms and legs wrapped around one another to a point where it's uncertain where one begins and another ends. Y/n pleasantly wonders if she should wear Ao'nung's armband more often, and perhaps the next time he decides to fuck her to oblivion they will remember to form tsaheylu before they get too desperate to properly think.

~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Y/n's ceremonial outfit is a small nod toward Marilyn Monroe's "Happy Birthday, Mr. President" dress, when the dress gave off the initial impression that Marilyn was nude and sent the audience gasping in shock when she walked on stage and took off her coat.

[candy69gurl]

It's me I wanted to ask a student!Gojo x Student!reader,male x male,they are hidden in the basketball room or like changing room? were Gojo does an handjob at the reader and then when the reader cum Gojo is to worked up so he needs to fuck him?

Idk it's my first time asking yaoi so..umm thanks in advance

REALIZATION

PAIRING heart-throb Gojo Satoru x quiet shy boy (yaoi)

WARNING male x male, closet sex, dirty talks, handjob, cock rubbing, fingering, loss of virginity, anal, neck kissing, nipple play, cum on face, then some flulff and assuration (Red flag Gojo turns Green flag)

It's quite a sight, isn't it?

Everywhere he goes on campus, he's bombarded with screams, cheers, and catcalls from his adoring fans. The popularity, the attention, the admiration—he's practically swimming in it. It's a given: Gojo Satoru, the living, breathing epitome of Tokyo Metropolitan Technical College's ideal man, with his chiseled jawline, snow-white hair, and eyes as blue as the ocean on a clear summer day.

He's the golden boy of Tokyo Metropolitan Technical College, with a reputation that precedes him wherever he goes. Popular among both genders, and known to be quite the flirt, Satoru basks in the attention showered upon him by every student, acquaintance, and stranger alike. He's got a knack for getting his way, and he doesn't shy away from using his charm, wit, and skills to get what he desires.

And then there's the little matter of his romantic escapades.

Perhaps it's the thrill of the chase, or maybe just his insatiable curiosity, but one thing's for sure: Satoru never stays with a partner for long. He's the epitome of a commitment-phobe, moving from one girl to another, leaving a trail of broken hearts and bewildered faces in his wake.

It's become a running joke among his peers, the way he changes girlfriends as frequently as some people change underwears, LOL. But hey, it's all part of his charm, right?

For Satoru, variety is the spice of life, and he's determined to enjoy every flavor. He's not one to settle down with just one person, nor does he want to. In his eyes, the grass always seems greener on the other side, and he's more than eager to explore every blade.

But beneath his carefree facade and playboy lifestyle, there's a secret he's yet to reveal.

Amidst the chaos of his love life, there's a quiet, shy boy who's been nursing a secret crush on a girl—let's not say the name—for what feels like forever. She, however, has eyes only for Satoru.

But Satoru, as per usual, seems oblivious to this hidden affliction. He's too busy bask in his own world of popularity and admiration to notice the quiet boy's silent pining or the girl's unrequited love. He's a master of selective perception, focusing only on those who actively throw themselves at his feet. Little does he know, there's a hidden story unfolding right under his nose, one that could potentially shake his world.

One day, a new twist unfolds in the campus drama. A lottery determines that Satoru and the quiet, unassuming boy are to be paired up for a group project. Uproar and disappointment ripple through the halls, especially among the swooning fans who had hoped for a chance with Satoru.

The quiet boy, on the other hand, is a mix of surprise and confusion. He didn't expect to be paired with the campus heartthrob, the one his crush has been crushing on. Nonetheless, he remains silent, he does not want any drama in his life. He hopes to complete the project all by himself and add Gojo's name on it too.

Despite the disappointment all around, Satoru has another plan. He wants to befriend the quiet boy, not letting him carry the entire workload alone.

His interest in this new companion is more than just courtesy. He sees potential in the quiet, unassuming soul, and he wants to break through the shell of shyness and hesitation. He believes in teamwork, and he wants to show the quiet boy that they can make a great team together.

"Hey, buddy. No need for you to do all the hard work yourself, huh? Let's make a plan, and we'll make this project a piece of cake. So wait for me after school ends ,kay?"

The quiet boy nods uneasily, he hates to be the centre of attention, but whenever Satoru is talking to him or trying to him, everybody gives him a dirty look. Of course they are jealous, why this guy?

On hearing the news, the girl with a crush on the quiet boy rushes to him, her eyes wide with excitement and hope. "Is it true? Are you really working with Satoru?" she asks, desperation in her voice.

The quiet boy nods blushing furiously. "Please, please help me," she pleads, her eyes full of pleading. "I'll meet you outside the girls' changing room later today. I need to talk to you."

The quiet boy, his cheeks flushed pink with embarrassment, can't help but nod again avoiding eye contact.

But, as he agrees to meet his crush, he remembers the promise he made to Satoru. He recalls how Satoru told him to wait after school, but he can't shake the feeling that the busy, popular guy might forget or run late.

His heart tugs between loyalty and desire, Should I wait for Satoru first? Or should I stick to my promise with my crush? he wonders.

In the end, he chooses to wait for his crush, hoping beyond hope that his decision won't backfire.

After school, the quiet boy nervously waits at the designated spot, his heart pounding like a drum. He is earlier than usual he does not want to miss his chance with his dreamgirl. His anxiety heightens as a group of girls, the same ones who gave him dirty looks earlier, walks towards his direction. Panic surges through him, and he decides to hide near the locker room, peeking from the doorway.

As the girls pass by without incident, he breathes a sigh of relief. While the quiet boy nervously waits for his crush, Satoru is diligently keeping his word. He searches the school corridors until he spots the boy hiding near the "girls" changing room. Suspicion flares in Satoru's mind, and he approaches the mysterious rendezvous.

"Oooh, boy, what are you doing here?" Satoru teases, his voice filled with mischief. The quiet boy's heart jumps, caught in the act.

"P-please .. forgive me, I-I" he looks up to see Satoru with his cheeky smile, he lets out a sigh, "Oh.. you scared me"

"Why are you here? I told you to wait for me after school, so why you-.. Oh so are you trying to do some naughty thing here?" Gojo smirks.

"N-no.. I am n-" he is stopped by the sound of footsteps echoing and growing closer.

Just in time, Satoru pulls the boy into a small closet, the space barely fitting their bodies. They listen as the girls enter the room and the quiet boy's heart leaps as he hears the voice of his crush.

They're hidden, but the close quarters send a thrill through the boy. He can feel Satoru's warmth and hear his shallow breaths, his heart pounding in sync. This unexpected intimacy leaves the quiet boy even more flustered than before.

"It's all your fault, Satoru!" he whispers, his face burning with embarrassment, but Satoru chuckles softly, the dimple in his cheek deepening. "Hey, you were the one hiding in here first" he retorts playfully.

Then, their whispers are cut short by the familiar voice of the crush. "Oh, I hear Satoru's voice" she says, disappointment evident in her tone. Her friend pipes up, "Yeah, yeah, you always hear his voice"

The quiet boy's heart sinks as he hears his crush speaking. His only crush continues, her words leaving little to the imagination. "You don't know, I touch myself to thoughts of Satoru, I want him to fuck me, so hard and fast..." She trails off, adding more explicit details.

Satoru's laughter vibrates against the boy's back, his grip tightening ever so slightly. "What a down bad person" he murmurs, his voice low and teasing. The boy feels heat spreading across his face, both from the words and the situation.

Despite the embarrassment, the quiet boy can't deny the effect his crush's words have on him. His body responds, betraying him as he gets hard, brushing against Satoru's hand in the cramped space.

Satoru's laughter dies down, replaced by a low hum of appreciation. "Well, well, someone seems to be enjoying her horny imagination" he says, his voice a seductive rumble. The boy freezes, not sure how to react to this new turn of events. "Tell me do you have a crush on her" he teases.

Satoru does not know why but his hands move without warning, wrapping around the boy's suddenly hardened cock. It's a bold move, and the quiet boy is shocked. He's never even masturbated before, so he quickly covers his mouth to stifle any noise.

This unexpected touch startles and excites him, his breath hitching. Satoru's hands are warm and skilled, moving in a rhythm that sends shivers down the boy's spine. Despite the unusual situation, the quiet boy can't help but lean into the touch.

Satoru continues to tease the boy, his voice thick with amusement. "Imagining fucking her, huh? You're already leaking" he mocks, his fingers slipping beneath the boy's waistband with ease.

The quiet boy's breath hitches as Satoru's warm fingers brush against his most intimate place, his cheeks burning. He never imagined this would happen, but there's no denying the sensation is electrifying. He can't help but wonder how it would feel to be touched like this by his crush. His mind races with thoughts of what could be, his body responding to the taboo experience.

Satoru's fingers glide against him, and the boy bites down hard on his lip to suppress a moan. "But.. she can't make you feel the same way I do" he whispers into his ear, his voice husky and full of promise.

The boy's heart races, his breaths coming faster. He's never experienced anything like this before. He lets out a small moan, tears coming out of his as he is reaching his peak.

Satoru grips his cock tightly helping him to reach his best orgasm, but the boy lets out a loud whimper,

Outside the closet, the girls start whispering, discussing the sound they just heard. "Did you hear that?" his crush asks nervously, concern creeping into her tone.

Satoru reacts instinctively, pressing his lips against the boy's to muffle any further noise.

Their lips touch, soft yet firm, as Satoru continues to pump the boy to completion. The quiet boy's mind fills with a jumble of emotions - shock, arousal, and gratitude. He could taste the sweetness of Satoru's mouth, the connection sending sparks through him.

In this moment, the boy forgets about his all-ever wished girl, lost in the unexpected intimacy with Satoru. The pressure builds within him, the release imminent.

Satoru's kiss is brief, but potent. His lips move swiftly, breaking away just in time to allow the boy to let out a muffled gasp as he reaches his climax. Sweat drips down the quiet boy's forehead, his legs trembling as he comes.

As the aftershocks subside, Satoru pulls away, as the boy catches his breath, he hears his crush's friend snicker. "You're even hearing Satoru moaning, huh?" She teases, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Satoru pulls away, adjusting his clothes, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips. He turns to the quiet boy, his eyes filled with a mix of mischief and warmth. "Did you like it?" he asks, a challenge in his voice.

The guy says nothing, he is too busy in getting over with the effects of the orgams. It's his first time after all.

Satoru listens carefully, hearing the footsteps fade. So he swings the door open, only for the poor boy to lose his balance and fall to the floor.

The quiet boy lies on the floor, his face flushed and sweaty, a testament to the intense experience they just shared. He's a sight to behold, tempting and vulnerable. His limp cock, covered in cum and nestled between his legs, is a clear sign of what just happened.

Satoru swallows hard, his erection straining against his pants at the sight before him. This feeling is unfamiliar, overwhelming. He's never felt this way for anyone, especially not for a boy. The thought that he could be attracted to a guy is foreign, yet undeniable.

Unable to hold back, Satoru unzips himself, his cock springing free. He approaches the boy, his heart pounding in his chest. He kneels before him, captivated by the sight of his cum-covered cock.

Slowly, he takes the boy's soft, sticky member into his hand, his own throbbing erection brushing against it. Satoru can't explain what's happening, but he feels an irresistible urge to claim this boy...

The quiet boy looks up at him, his eyes wide and filled with confusion and desire. He doesn't understand what's happening, but there's no denying the pull between them.

"What are you doing?!" he says in surprise, as Gojo keeps stroking himself against him.

"I want to fuck you" he confesses, his voice hoarse. The boy's eyes widen, shock etching across his features. "Are you crazy? I'm not gay!" he protests.

Satoru meets his gaze, his own eyes filled with sincerity. "Neither am I" he admits, his voice shaking slightly. "But I've never felt like this before. Please, I'll make you feel good."

The quiet boy takes a moment to process Satoru's words. He's never been with a guy before, let alone someone as confident and experienced as Satoru. But there's something in those blue eyes that makes him hesitate, something undeniably earnest.

He swallows hard, glancing down at their hard cocks. "I... I don't know" he murmurs, uncertainty creeping into his voice. "I... I'm not sure if I'm ready for this."

"Let me prepare you" Satoru says softly, his voice steady despite the nervousness echoing through the room. He pulls the boy closer, their bodies brushing intimately.

With gentle deftness, Satoru helps the quiet boy remove the rest of his pants, revealing his enticing ass. He can't help but swallow hard, desire coursing through him.

Reaching out, Satoru lubes his finger with his saliva and gently inserts a finger into the boy's tight entrance. The quiet boy gasps, his body tensing. He winces, the sensation foreign and unexpectedly pleasurable. He lets out a faint whimper, his dick hardening despite the confusion swirling in his mind. This sensation is new, foreign, yet undeniably good.

Satoru adds another finger, his movements slow and deliberate. The boy's eyes flutter shut, his body trembling under Satoru's touch. He's never felt like this before, overwhelmed by emotions and sensations.

"It's okay" Satoru whispers, his voice a soothing balm. "Just trust me."

He adds another finger, his touch steady and reassuring. The quiet boy takes deep breaths, trying to process the barrage of sensations assaulting him. His cock pulses in his hand, hard and eager.

"Feels good, doesn't it?" Satoru asks, his voice laced with quiet triumph. "I promise, I'll make this good for you."

The quiet boy nods, his face flushed and breathless. Despite the confusion, he can't deny the pleasure coursing through him. Satoru's fingers inside him feel strange, yet exhilarating.

"Feels... strange," he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. "But...."

Satoru smiles, his fingers never pausing. He can feel the boy's body slowly relaxing, yielding to his touch. "Just relax, alright? You're doing great."

With a gentle tug, Satoru removes his fingers, the quiet boy's body protesting the loss. But before he can register what's happening, Satoru positions himself between his legs.

Their eyes meet, filled with anticipation and apprehension. With a slow, measured thrust, Satoru enters the boy, his cock sliding smoothly into his tight heat. The quiet boy gasps, his eyes widening in surprise.

Satoru's movements are slow and gentle, his thrusts deliberate. With every stroke, the quiet boy feels a rush of pleasurable sensations. He's never been with a guy before, let alone someone as skilled as Satoru.

"How does it feel?" Satoru asks, his voice husky. The quiet boy bites his lip, his heart pounding. "Unlike anything I've ever felt" he admits, his voice soft.

Satoru nods, his movements slow and gentle. His hands reach up, wrapping around the boy's cock. He strokes it in time with his thrusts, their bodies moving together in perfect harmony.

"Mghh~" the boy moans, his face reddening in heat. He can't believe he's enjoying this, enjoying Satoru's touch. His entire body trembling under the dual stimulation. The sensations are overwhelming, a perfect blend of pleasure and vulnerability.

Embarrassment floods him, his face flushing bright red. He covers his face with a hand, hiding his reaction from Satoru.

Satoru chuckles softly, his thrusts growing more forceful. "You're so beautiful, you know that?" he murmurs, his voice thick with lust.

Satoru trails kisses down the quiet boy's neck, his tongue tracing delicate paths. With his other hand, he reaches inside the boy's shirt, his fingers brushing over his nipple. The boy jolts, a sharp gasp escaping him.

Unable to control his response, he cums, his walls tightening around Satoru's cock.

Satoru groans, his thrusts growing frantic. The quiet boy's reaction fuels his own desire, sending sparks of desire through him.

"Fuck" he breathes out, his voice rough. He slows his thrusts, letting the quiet boy ride out his orgasm. The boy's cum spills over his hand, the sight sending a shiver down Satoru's spine.

His grip on the boy's nipple tightens, his thumb rubbing it in a circular motion. The boy arches, his body trembling under Satoru's touch. "You feel so good" Satoru whispers, his voice thick with desire. "So tight, so warm" he groans, his hips bucking involuntarily. "I can't... I can't take it anymore."

He picks up the pace, thrusting harder and faster. The quiet boy's eyes widen, his body arching with each thrust. His skin glistens with sweat, the room filled with the sounds of their passion.

With a final thrust, Satoru pulls out, the quiet boy gasping for air. His body trembles, still reeling from the intensity of their encounter.

Satoru grips the back of the boy's head, guiding it towards his cock. The quiet boy hesitates, but then closes his eyes, bracing himself. Satoru's release pulses onto his face, hot and sticky. He opens his eyes, a look of surprise crossing his features. Satoru watches, his breath hitched, the boy's face painted with his cum.

Satoru kisses the quiet boy's forehead, gentle and tender. "Your crush wants me, but I want you" he confesses, his voice low. "And don't worry, I'll make our thing public. What do you say? Will you be mine?"

The boy's face is still red, his eyes wide. He thinks for a moment, hesitating. "But what if people—" Satoru cuts him off, placing a finger on his lips. "I don't care about people" Satoru interjects, his voice firm, "I only want you." He looks into the boy's eyes, filled with sincerity and desire. "I want everyone to know you're mine. I want everyone to see what we share, to see how special you are to me."

The boy swallows, his confusion evident. "You really mean that?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper. Satoru smiles, his eyes shining.

"More than you'll ever know" he promises, his hand cupping the boy's cheek. His heart swells, feeling a sense of pride and joy. This boy, so quiet and innocent, has captured his heart in a way no one else has.

"We'll make it work, alright?" he continues, his gaze steady. "We'll face the world together, hand in hand. I'll protect you, I'll cherish you, and I'll love you until the end of time."

The next day, the quiet boy and Satoru walk through the halls, hand in hand. The sight catches everyone off guard, from girls to boys, jaws dropping in shock. The boy's ex-crush, caught off guard, stares in disbelief.

Satoru doesn't miss a beat. He looks around, his voice ringing with confidence. "Yes, he is my boyfriend" he announces, his tone leaving no room for doubt.

The whispers start, a ripple of shock spreading through the school. Satoru feels the eyes on them, but he doesn't let it bother him. He's made his choice, and he's not backing down.

"Don't worry" he tells the quiet boy, squeezing his hand reassuringly. "They'll get used to it. They'll see that we're happy, that we belong together."

The quiet boy looks up at him, a mix of fear and hope in his eyes. "What if they don't?" he asks, his voice low. Satoru chuckles, a small, reassuring smile playing on his lips. "They'll have to" he replies with a confident smirk. "I'm not the type of person you cross, remember?"

The quiet boy swallows, his heart racing. "But what if they... make fun of us?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper. Satoru leans in, whispering in his ear.

"We'll show them what we have," Satoru repeats, his voice low and firm. "We'll be stronger together than any rumor or gossip. We'll prove to them that love knows no bounds, that our connection is real and powerful."

The quiet boy takes a deep breath, his grip on Satoru's hand tightening. "Okay," he says, his voice barely audible. "I trust you, Gojo."

Satoru smiles, his heart swelling with warmth. "That's my good boy" he kisses the top of the boy's head, while everyone watches them from confusion to awe.

Tagging @rabbidbunwy @sweetchildcloud

[ahgasegotarmy116]

Just Take It | Jeon Jungkook | Part Five

Summary: You start a conversation with Jungkook about where you stand but are interrupted by an uninvited visitor Pairing: Inexperienced f!reader x Best Friend's Dad Jungkook (20 year age gap) Word Count: 4.7K~ Warnings: Suggestive and explicit language (an argument). Nothing too crazy honestly. Horribly edited too because it's been three weeks and I wanted to get it out! a/n: Sorry it took me so long to get this chapter out but I was away from home for a week and then wrote a couple of one shots and blah blah blah lol but anyways I hope you enjoyyyy Requested by: @kkusadmirer 💜

After our eventful afternoon Jungkook and I ended up laying in his bed and watching movies since like he said, he wanted me to be "well rested" before we have the talk. The talk that could change everything between us... 

There are multiple outcomes to this scenario and I'm not sure if I'm ready for any of them. 

On one hand he could say this was all a mistake and he was just acting on his urges. I know now for damn sure though that he's attracted to me but I don't know what his motives and feeling are towards me. If he even has any besides surface level physical attraction. 

On the other hand he could want to pursue a friends with benefits sort of arrangement. Being fuck buddies or whatever with an older man does sound exciting when I think about doing it with him. It's just that don't know if I'd want something like that even if it was with him. 

I told Jared before that I wanted to save myself for marriage and I feel like that's something I still want to stick to. I've definitely crossed so many lines with Jungkook in the last not even twenty four hours, more like twelve hours or something like that but regardless lines have been crossed and I'm still not sure how I feel about any of it. 

I want to say that I don't regret it and it's not just because it felt fucking phenomenal and out of this world but because I feel safe with him.

It might just be because over the past couple of months that I've been living with him he's become someone I care about and honestly trust with my life so I didn't really feel a need to say no to him. I wanted it to happen, I know I did I just didn't really think it would ever happen. I thought that it would stay in my hormonal fantasies forever and I was okay with that. 

The way he's been treating me has shown me that he cares about me. Although I was trying to convince myself that it was somewhat of a paternal instinct in him and that he was just being protective over me, I knew that it was something beyond that. 

I tried to somewhat address it in a weird sort of way with the whole asking why he didn't have anyone over conversation and he knew what I was trying to ask and addressed it but his answer made me even more confused. 

"I wouldn't want to ruin what we have going on here"  like what does that even mean? He doesn't want to ruin the dynamic we have in the house in terms of we're comfortable with each other and feel no need to let anyone inside our little safe space. 

Or did he mean that he didn't want to ruin what we have going on here because he wanted to see where things went with us on a more romantic level?

He hasn't explicitly told me that he would want to pursue a relationship with me but circling back to before he's given me clear signs that he's attracted to me and isn't one to hide it. 

He knows to a certain extent that I find him attractive too because I asked him to take my virginity. (I'm never gonna be able to live that one down) Anyone could tell that he was clearly struggling to hold himself back and the fact that he kissed me just shows that he wanted to. That he wanted me.

Then there's another possibility that he might want a sugar baby sort of relationship and I don't even want to think about something like that. 

Don't get me wrong! I respect the hustle, but that's just not for me. 

If I'm gonna be doing something like what we are doing right now then I want it to be something that I want to do without any ulterior motive. I don't want to put a monetary value on the time I spend with him but not gonna lie, living it large and not having to worry about money or working sounds very tempting.

I don't think he's that kind of man though...or at least I hope he's not. 

"Penny for your thoughts?" he asks playfully, having noticed that I haven't really been paying attention to the movie we've been watching. 

"Just thinking" I answer, cuddling in closer to him as I've refused to let go of him today and he hasn't made moves to do any different. 

"Bout what?" he prods further, placing a kiss on the top of my head and taking in the fresh scent of his shampoo in my hair.

"Things" I continue, liking the game we've started to play. 

"What sort of things?" he chuckles, telling me that he's enjoying it too. 

"All kinds of things" I say nuzzling closer into him and he wraps his arm tighter around me to keep me there.

"Wanna share a few?" he asks, clearly not letting this go since he wants to at least make sure I'm okay. 

"Thinking about how you might want to make me your sugar baby" I mumble into his chest and he laughs wholeheartedly making me even more embarrassed. 

"Is that something you'd want?" he asks and I shake my head. 

"You don't wanna be at home and sit pretty, waiting for me to come back and shower you with gifts and jewelry and give you the world?" he teases while pinching my sides making me pull away from him, trying to escape. 

"N-no! Now s-stop" I choke out through laughter and gasps of breath. "What would you want" he asks after having tackled me down onto the mattress making sure to do a thorough job of tickling me until I could barely breathe. 

I take a second to think, my eyes going back and forth between his while his stay still, focused and almost begging for an answer. 

"I thought we weren't going to have this conversation until I was well rested" I say, breathless, still not knowing up from down when it comes to us. If there even is an 'us'. 

"You feel well rested?" he asks, cocking a brow at me and I nod my head quickly, giving me a crooked smile in response. "Then it's perfect timing right?" he continues and I nod again leaving him getting off of me and leaning his back against the headboard, waiting to hear what I have to say. 

I take a minute or so to gather my thoughts and the whole time he's watching me curiously, almost able to see the wheels turning in my head. 

"What happened between us kind of caught me by surprise" I start, looking down at my lap and playing with my fingers nervously. "I don't regret it, it was just, well I'm just kind of confused about how you feel about me, and I'm really confused about how I feel about you" I admit and I can see his expression go a bit wary but I jump at the chance to explain myself. 

"It's just that I think both of us know at this point that we're extremely attracted to each other" I start out and the corner of his lips upturns for a second but nods in confirmation, waiting for me to continue. 

"With us getting physical and all so quickly I can't help but think that maybe we should take a step back. I would like to know your thoughts and intentions and feelings about all of this. I might be overthinking it but I really think it's best to be up front and honest with each other" I say and take in a shaky breath, scared I might've said the wrong thing.

"You're so sexy when you act so mature like that" he taunts and I groan, wanting to keep this serious. "I'm just playing Bunny. Well I'm not because you really are sexy but I don't want you to feel all nervous and insecure like you are right now. We're being open and honest right?" he questions and I nod my head, eager for him to continue. 

"Meaning it would be the perfect opportunity to tell you that I have feelings for you right?" he says and my eye bug out in response, not knowing what to do now. "Wasn't expecting that huh?" he chuckles and I shake my head making him laugh even more. 

"Cat got your tongue Darling?" he teases and scoff at that. "No I was just being polite and letting you keep talking since you let me do the same" I say, making excuses and trying to keep my voice level. 

"Sure Bunny" he smirks not believing a word I said but continuing nevertheless.

"I've had feelings for you for a while now and I haven't told you or acted on it because I wanted to respect the fact that you were in a relationship. I never liked Jared though for what it's worth" he says without hesitation and it makes me cringe at the thought that I was about to marry that snake. 

"Is it harsh to say I'm glad he's out of the picture?" he says boldly making me laugh. "Not just because it benefitted me but because he didn't deserve to marry a beautiful, intelligent, kind hearted woman like you. I would've said something but I'm not your father so I knew it wasn't my place" he finishes and making me smile, thankful that he was so considerate. 

Now that I think about it, even back then I respected and trusted his judgement so it wouldn't have bothered me even if he did say something.

"It's not harsh to say because I'm happy about it too. To be honest though I don't really know what I ever saw in him. I think because he was the first guy that more or less respected my boundaries that I thought I had to hold onto him. I don't know" I say and he nods his head.

This is something I haven't experienced before. Someone sitting and taking the time to actually talk things out without any outside distractions and focusing on each other and hearing each other out. 

Maybe it's just an age thing and the fact that Jungkook does fit the standard of dating older and more mature men is better. We're not dating though, but I guess we'll hopefully figure out where we stand once this conversation comes to a close.

"I'm really confused and I kind of don't know how to feel but I'm not closed off to figuring things out" I say, glancing up at him and back down at my lap, nervous from seeing how fascinated he is with me right now. 

I hold my breath and wait for him to say something but when nothing ever comes I chance looking up at him again and I'm surprised to see how he's still watching me.

"Like I said, I've had feelings for you for a while and if you're open to seeing where things go then I would really like to take you out on a date. Like on a proper date. I know since we've been living together and we've been spending a lot of time together but I-" he start off strong but begins to ramble and is regretfully cut off by the sound of the front door opening. 

"Dad! Dad where are you?" Jina calls out and neither of us dares to move or make a sound. "Dad" Jina drags out, regretfully confirming that I am in fact not dreaming. "Be down in a second" he says then presses a finger to his lips. 

"Just stay in here and I'll take care of it" he whispers and I nod my head, watching him as he panics internally before leaving the room and closing the door softly behind him. 

What the hell are we gonna do? My car is out there! Or wait, did I put it in the garage yesterday? I can't remember but I really hope it's not out there otherwise she'll already know I'm here. 

"What are you doing here?" Jungkook says. I can hear his muffled voice through the walls and I know I probably shouldn't listen but curiosity gets the best of me making me rush to the door and quietly crack it open, needing to hear how this conversation goes. 

"Nice to see you too dad" she says, and I hate the fact that I'm only able to hear them but I'll settle for this. 

"You should've contacted me before you came over Jina. You know I don't like people showing up unannounced" he says sternly.

"You're usually totally fine with me coming over" she says sounding thoroughly confused and I can hear Jungkook clear his throat before she starts again. 

"Am I interrupting something?" she asks after no doubt clocking the dishes that were left over from lunch. Two plates, two cups and two sets of silverware. A dead giveaway that someone is here especially since it hasn't been cleaned up yet. 

"You are actually" he says and I trip, surprised that he would straight up admit it but he has no reason to hide, and neither do I.

Having pushed the door open thanks to my clumsiness (somehow able to stay upright and keep my dignity this time) I'm faced with the dilemma of if I should just go back inside and pretend that never happened when it clearly did or come out and face her. 

I'm given the luxury of having that choice since she hasn't seen me yet but I decide it's better to do this as soon as possible. We've hid the fact that I've been living here for two months so what's adding on the fact that I've been messing around with her father while doing so. 

(Although this is a newly added feature but she doesn't need to know that)

I take a deep breath before stepping out from behind the door, watching Jina's face go from surprised to confused to disgusted to angry before turning back towards her father. 

"You're fucking my best friend?" she accuses, not completely wrong but semantics. 

"Best friend's don't fuck around and get pregnant by their friend's fiancees" I remind her, walking down the stairs in conveniently only Jungkook's shirt making what's going on, or what's starting to go on between us even more clear. 

"Oh grow up! It's not like there's anything we can do to change that now can we? Plus looks like you're doing just fine without him" she throws at me and from that moment I'm not pulling any punches. She wants to play dirty? Fine, let's play dirty.

"Jina stop it" Jungkook growls, going on the defensive, not being able to gauge what kind of mindset she's in or even her reasoning for coming here but wanting her out all the same.  

"Grow up?" I chuckle dryly, "I guess you're right, I guess maybe I have started growing up since it seems I've matured enough to be with someone like your father. Which, last time I checked, wasn't someone you have any business in questioning on things like his sex life and who he does and does not partake in it with" I say, placing a hand on his bicep possessively and I feel the tension he had once held in his body start to melt away. 

Interesting to know that I have this effect on him...

"Come on, we both know that you're probably just a piece of ass to him" she scoffs before turning to address him. "Didn't know you started picking up strays. I wondered where she had ran off to" she says, continuing to disrespect the both of us without a care in the world.

"Don't call her that!" Jungkook says, jaw clenched as a way to keep himself in check. 

All I see is red though and the next words I hurl out are ones that I couldn't stop myself from saying even if I tried. The ringing in my ears fanning the flames of my agitation making it impossible to hold back.

"How's life being pregnant with my fucking ex boyfriend's baby? He's probably taking real good care of you huh?" I taunt, cocking a brow at her and from the way the color rushes to her cheeks and the words die in her throat are enough to tell me everything I need to know. 

He hasn't done shit for her.

She balls her hands into fists by her side and lunges at me but Jungkook jumps in between us, grabs her by the shoulders and turns her around, forcing her out the front door. 

"You're gonna throw me out and choose that slut over your own daughter?" she yells struggling to get out of his grasp the whole way. 

"Last time I checked honey the only slut around these parts is you" I throw back, following right behind them and the way her jaw drops is just priceless. 

"That's enough! Jina go!" Jungkook says through gritted teeth letting go of her once she's passed the thresh hold, leaving her standing there, looking between the two of us before scoffing and storming off down the driveway. 

"I knew you were obsessed with her I just never thought you would bother acting on it" Jina spits out at her father and when she sees that he doesn't flinch she hurls more baseless lies and insults at the both of us. 

"You know she's just using you to get a place to stay and get over her ex right? What happened to staying a virgin until you got married y/n? Huh? Guess getting cheated on really fucked you up" she spits while unlocking her car. 

"And I guess fucking around with an ego-driven two-timing narcissist gets you pregnant" I throw back and she purses her lips before sinking down in her car, accepting defeat this time and leaving like her father told her to. 

"Say hi to Jared for me" I call out, waving at her as she grips the steering wheel until her knuckles have gone white, putting it in drive and backing out of the driveway.

I walk over to the couch and let out a big sigh once I've sat down, throwing my head in my hands as a way to ground myself. 

Breathing through this dizzy feeling from that whole confrontation that I had not been prepared for is a lot tougher than I thought it would be, my whole body still buzzing.

I hear Jungkook close the door behind him after having watched her speed down the street, still worried for her safety but also wanting to make sure she was actually gone. What happened just now was enough of a confrontation to last me a lifetime, or at least it feels that way.  

"Hey" he whispers, kneeling in front of me and rubbing my back, "Are you okay?" he continues and I nod my head, feeling the tears prickling in my eyes, calling my bluff.

"Come here" he whispers, sitting on the couch next to me and pulling me onto his lap, rubbing my back again and holding me while I let out some of those tears I had held back.

"I don't even know why I crying" I say, sniffling and sitting back up to dry my eyes.

"No one likes getting into fights with someone they used to care about. Well, nobody sane likes getting into fights with someone they used to care about" he says, trying to lighten the mood and it does the trick making me scoff a bit, smiling at his efforts to make me feel better.

He cups my face and wipes a few tears that had fallen, looking at me with his brows pinched together as if his heart is breaking with mine.

"But you still care about her though, don't you?" he asks and I nod my head. "It's hard not to" I admit, getting off his lap and sitting next to him which makes him angle his body to face mine, taking hold of one of my hands, encouraging me to speak my mind. 

"She's been my best friend for the past six years. That's not something that can magically be turned off for me. I know what she did to me was devastating and I don't think I'll ever be able to forgive her for it. I'm still trying to heal from it all so I don't know, I couldn't help but defend myself, and you. I'm sorry you had to see that" I say, mumbling the last part and feeling so much regret for saying those ugly things about his daughter right in front of him. 

"Everyone has a right to defend themselves and when you're being attacked like that, you can't help but say hurtful things. She had no right and she knew that and wanted to hurt the both of us anyway" he says and I take a deep breath before turning my attention back to him because she said just as many hurtful things to him as she did to me.

"Are you okay?" I question, tightening my hold on his hand to hopefully encourage him to be vulnerable with me as well. 

He nods his head with a sad smile and waits a beat before saying anything and I hold my breath until he does. 

"No one wants their daughter to end up in the kind of situation she put herself in or see the people that they care about hurting but what she said didn't hurt me" he says and I nod my head, paying attention to his hand that I have placed in my lap, tracing the swirls of ink with my eyes as they travel further up his arm. 

"What did hurt me though was the way she was talking about you. You know that's not how I feel about you at all right?" he says, tilting my face up towards him making purposeful eye contact with me, needing to know that I believe him. 

"I know" I nod, giving him a sad smile accompanied by my still glossy eyes making him even more sad seeing how upset all of this has made me. 

"Can I do anything to make you feel better?" he asks, cupping my face and keeping my eyes on him when I try to turn them away. "No, I'll be okay" I shake my head and he studies my features before nodding and accepting my words at face value. 

"Okay, do you wanna go back up to my room? You can sleep in there with me if you'd like" he says, brushing a tear dampened strand of hair out of my face. 

I give him a mischievous smile, telling him I know what he's up to but he pulls away and puts his hands up in a way to defend his motives. 

"Just sleep, I promise. Scouts honor" he says, crossing his heart and I laugh at his playfully defensive nature. "Sure" I say, taking hold of his hand while he stands up and leads me back to his bedroom. 

~~~~

After having talked a little bit more about what had happened the topic of conversation circles back to what we had been in the middle of before she showed up. 

"So earlier it seemed like you wanted to ask me a question" I say, taking a sip from my soda that had come with the take out we had ordered hours ago, toying with the straw and keeping his attention. 

"Yeah? And do you know what your answer might be to said question?" he teases, wetting his lips and keeping his eyes trained on mine. 

"You have to ask the questions first Daddy" I say placing my drink down on his nightstand and when I turn to face him again he's tackling me down on the bed peppering kisses all over me. 

"Stoooppp" I giggle and he laughs along with me before leaning back to hover over me. "Will you go out with me?" he asks and I can tell that this whole moment has him feeling like a teenager again.

"I thought you'd never ask" I say, running my fingers through his hair making him lean into my touch. 

"You can't take it back though. Once we do this I won't ever let you go" he husks out, placing a kiss on my palm and I shutter at the feeling. "Then don't" I breathe out making a flame of desire flash through his eyes. 

"You're gonna get yourself in trouble you know that?" he warns, placing a kiss on my nose before getting off me and turning off the tv. "Hey! I was watching that!" I pout "No you weren't" he chuckles. "Plus it's time to go to bed. We've got a big day ahead of us" he says, getting under the covers and motioning for me to do the same. 

"Big day?" I question, not remembering we had something on the agenda this weekend. "I may or may not have planned out our date this morning while you were still in bed Sleeping Beauty" he says, pulling me onto his chest but I sit up pulling away from him with my brows scrunched together. 

"How were you so sure I would say yes?" I scoff, shocked by his bold assumption. "From the way I've been making you moan my name I figured you wouldn't mind going on one date with me in return" he says and my jaw drops, throwing the covers off myself and making a break for it but he yanks me back towards him making me flop down on the bed. 

"You can't just say things like that" I whine, hands over my eyes as a way to block him out of my vision and hide the very apparent blush that I'm sure is starting to bloom. 

"Am I wrong?" he taunts, placing kisses on my neck and collarbone, dangerously close to making me moan his name again. 

"You're no fair" I say, pushing him off and giving him my back making him chuckle at my shy behavior. He lays down and pulls me back into him. My back now against his chest and his hand placed on my hip where I'm again reminded that I'm only wearing his shirt and my under ware. 

"Keep your hands to yourself Mr." I tease while prying his hand off me. "Come on darling, you know I'm a man of my word. Just sleep, nothing else" he says, this time sliding his hand further up to hold onto my bare waist. 

"Fine" I grumble out and he laughs and nuzzles his nose into my neck, taking another deep breath, flooding his senses with my scent. 

"Goodnight Bunny" he mumbles against my skin. "Goodnight Daddy I tease and am rewarded with a slap on my ass. 

"Did, did you just spank me?" I say trying to wiggle out of his hold but he's already got his arm wrapped around my waist again. "I told you that pretty little mouth of yours was gonna get you into trouble didn't I?" he says, switching to rubbing his hand along the tender flesh he just struck, caressing it in a way to ease the pain. 

I pout and settle back into the bed, not dignifying his words with a response. It's only when I accidentally move my hips backwards do I freeze from gaining a soft moan from him, no doubt caught off guard from the contact of my ass up against him. 

"Sorry I didn't mean to I-" "I know Bunny, just go to sleep" he says placing a kiss on my neck and holding my hips in place, putting a little more space between us. 

As I slow my breathing to a steady one I start to lull myself to sleep but I flinch at the sound of his cute snores in my ear. 'Something I'll have to tease him about in the morning' I giggle to myself and take his hand off my hip, choosing instead to hold it against my chest having him surrounding me. Soon I'm slipping into that dreamland he had drifted off to moments before, safe and warm being in his arms.  

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[cherie-doll]

Cherie luveeee. Wish you good and healthy, beautiful.

I got someting.

You know those retired dog officers that have been trained for jungkies and bombs?? We adopt them while cod characters are away for deployments, because we're lonely and literal scary dog privileges hehe.

And when they're home, our dog gets alert and quite relentless by the smells until we pay the good officer jerky and 2 ice cubes.

It's messy, but hope you understand what I mean.

Dw i see your vision and tried to execute it

⪩⪨ price, ghost, soap, gaz, roach, alejandro, rudy, phillip graves, makarov, keegan, könig, horangi, nikto

No cuz imagine missing that security, yearning for those big strong muscle arms wrapping around you and engulfing your body in theirs >.<

BuT, you’re alone at home, that emptiness roaming the halls and dark rooms as the orange glow of the afternoon sun seeps through the blinds and the most awful melancholy hits you. You grab your keys and go out for a drive not being able to stand the loneliness anymore.

You’re driving around downtown and spot a shelter, you saw a poster on the glass display for cats. Only to walk in and be told that they’ve all been adopted, you’re ready to walk out until a yelp can be heard from one of the kennels and see a German shepherd watching you with his big brown eyes, head laying on his paws. Your heart squeezes and it’s as if you’re made for one another. Without another thought you ask for it and after a few moments you’re walking out with your new companion.

You spend the next couple of weeks bonding with the dog, taking him out on walks and sleeping peacefully on your bed despite your military bf/husband gone because you know the canine sleeping on the bedroom floor will protect you. You even go out a little more often than you would when they're on deployment because you've got your guard dog scaring away those with wrong intentions but is secretly a sweetheart within.

And it isn't until your partner comes back, late at night, that your dog raises his head, ears attentive and listening to the footsteps of heavy boots probably leaving dirt all over the clean entrance hallway and making their way up the stairs to the bedroom. He can sense a strange new smell, much stronger than your subtle scent. The overpowering new scent awakens his instincts and he's at the door in an instant growling and waking you up.

Much to the confusion and frustration of the dog, you're not as wary as you should be. You freely open the door and welcome the soldier who's been away for too long into your arms.

Price would be too engulfed in your embrace to notice the dog growling lowly at him. It would only be when he leans down to put away his shoes and place the duffle bag slung over his shoulder that he'd come face to face with the dog's snout sniffing him over. He'd ask where you got it from and once the dog realized there is no threat they'd get used to each other quickly.

Simon wouldn't appreciate the hair the dog has left on the side of the bed that's usually his. But he commends you for being smart and getting a dog, and not just any fluffy golden retriever, no you got a dog breed he can trust will use the best of their instincts to take care of you. He'll be at ease knowing he's not leaving you alone anymore.

Johnny would have a close call getting bitten by the doggo. Maybe warn him, yeah? But he's all over the dog, petting it, asking what's his name. And he most likely wouldn't get much sleep despite arriving late home. The dog is all excited about a new person in the house and be all over him.

Kyle tries his darn best to earn that dog's trust and convince them he's not a threat. It's not that the dog smells bad intentions from him, he just doesn't like the proximity between the both of you. Noses in between you both while you're giving Kyle a kiss on the lips. After a few treats, he got the dog to calm down and sit at the far end of the room, keeping an eye just in case lol.

Gary loves dogs and tbh he thinks this was a surprise you had planned for him. The dog can't even do his regular routine of sniffing the person because Gary is hugging him, petting and scratching behind the dog's ears. The dog loves the attention though and quickly warms up to him.

Alejandro would get a good scare at this big dog standing in the doorway watching him. Would curse loud enough his mother could surely hear from her grave and rise to throw a chancla at him. He's tired, has had a long drive and in his usual good mood would dote on the dog but not when he's on the verge of collapsing from exhaustion. Doesn't even say anything much after that and just grabs you, collapses into bed with you in his arms and falls asleep.

Rudy's first thought is that a stray dog got in and would be concerned for your safety but then sees the collar around the dog's neck and know right away he's part of the family now. And no matter how tired he is, Rudy would still sit there and with the dog resting on his lap, would ask you how you got him, where, what's his name, how you've been feeling after adopting him, etc.

Phillip doesn't pay mind to the dog, even if its growling at him and even baring teeth. Plenty of people do that to him at work, he's used to it. Man has two things in his mind since pulling into the driveway; you and rest. He takes a quick shower, doesn't even bother putting actual clothes on and just falling asleep in a towel wrapped around his waist. The dog just standing next to the bed at Phillip's side, smelling his face curiously.

Makarov isn't surprised to be greeted by dogs at the door because he's probably already owned a few big dogs but they're usually kept outside. Kicks his shoes off, which distract the snarling dog who goes after his shoes only seeing a new toy. He goes right over and starts getting ready to sleep until he turns to face your side confused to see the dog in between the both of you with his shoe in his mouth.

Keegan couldn't care less, he has no thoughts at the moment. His eyes barely register the dog who won't stop thrusting his nose into his face when he leans down to pull off his boots and socks. He just grumbles something and pushes the dog away who follows after him. He kisses you goodnight or hello, he doesn't know anymore, gives the dog a pat on the head and drifts off to sleep.

König the type to just stand there staring at the dog who stares right back at him. Surely, with how sleep deprived he is he must think it's an hallucination or maybe he's asleep and already dreaming. Reaches out, letting the dog sniff his hand and when he feels the warm breath from the dog's nostrils tickle his hand he simply nods approvingly. He'll make friends with the dog tomorrow.

Horangi would probably set off all of the dog's danger sensors because of his nature of doing things. Like he gets home, slams the door shut, his heavy footsteps making their way to you, throwing his duffle bag on the floor and tackling you (lovingly ofc duh) would make the dog think you're getting attacked.

Nikto would start asking you all sorts of question, interrogating you almost. Asking where the wolf came from, why did you get it, did you not feel safe to wait until he came back? He's asking more because he's genuinely concerned and wants to know if something specific happened that made you feel like you needed a dog as big as the one currently stuffing his nose into the pockets of his jacket.

[itsphoenix0724]

Promises (Rhysand x Reader)

Summary: You don't argue with your husband often, and never anything as serious as this. However, some things may be too hard to come back from.

Warnings: ANGST, mentions of Rhys' trauma from under the mountain

Word Count: 1.7k

Part 2

A/N: Hey everyone! This is my first time writing for Rhys, but I apologize; this isn't the happiest thing! This takes place during ACOMAF, and I tried to keep it canon accurate. I may have diverged a little though! I really just needed to get some angst out from first week of school stress lol. If you ever want to interact with me my requests are open! As always constructive criticism is very welcome! I tried to makes this a realistic portrayl of real feelings and emotions. I hope you all enjoy even if it stamps on your heart a bit <3

You’re sitting at the dinner table in the Townhouse, nursing a glass of wine, when you feel your Husband’s power rumble into your bones. It normally feels comforting to you, but now all it does is further the knot of anxiety growing in your stomach.

It’s been a long week. 

It was the first time that Rhys had called in his bargain with Feyre. You’ll always be eternally grateful for what Feyre did for your family, for your court, and the entirety of Prythian. It still didn’t stop the ugly jealousy that clawed at your insides at Rhys spending the week away from you with her. Especially after you learned about the dancing. You knew why it had to happen, you really did. He had explained everything to you in the tearful reunion after he returned from under the mountain. 

You hope Amarantha burned in whatever hell she crawled out from. 

“How was your first week,” you take another gulp of wine, trying to drown the spiders crawling up your throat. 

“I think she’s making some progress. Tamlin isn’t even teaching her how to read! Can you believe that? Even after he saw it almost kill her and his supposedly beloved emissary.” He rubbed out the crease forming between his eyebrows, maneuvering around the kitchen as he poured himself a glass of whiskey. “She was paper thin and so so pale.” he shook his head as he knocked back the liquor. 

“You didn’t come home the whole time.” You tried your best to keep the venom tamped down in your voice, you weren’t even really angry just confused. Judging by the way the muscles in his back tensed your endeavor had not been successful. 

You knew he would have to call in this bargain eventually you just didn’t expect him to ignore you the entire time she was here. He could’ve taken you with him, you had even expressed interest in meeting Feyre. You had wanted to thank her personally for everything she did to you and extend an olive branch for her time in your court. Rhys had shut down the idea immediately because he thought she might have been overwhelmed. 

“What is that supposed to mean?” he turned around and looked at you from his spot leaning against the counter. You didn’t look at him, staring straight at the grooves on the table. You sensed the defensive tone immediately. Rhys almost looks like a cat with all the hair raised on its back. Feline eyes sizing you up like he’s about to pounce on you.

“I just don’t understand why you couldn’t have come home to even sleep. When I tried to reach you mind to mind your shields were up.” Your nails dig into the wood, leaving crescent marks in the pine. Rhys doesn’t have an answer for that when you meet his eyes. It almost looks like he’s looking through you instead of at you. 

“I didn’t want to leave her alone in case she tried to jump out a window.” He says the answer matter-of-factly. It’s the same tone you heard him use during the conferences he held with the citizens. He wasn’t exactly brushing you off, but it didn’t feel like he was listening to you either. 

“Why couldn’t you have just told me that?” Your voice cracked. You have been married to Rhys for almost one hundred years. You could tell when he was being shifty, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that he was hiding something from you. Judging from that regretful look in his eye you were correct. 

“I thought you would react poorly. Clearly, I was correct.” The clipped tone is enough to send a white-hot bolt of anger through your body. 

“Do not blame your poor communication skills on me Rhysand.” The glare you fixed him with could have brought the monster that lurks in the bottom of the library to its knees, but Rhys just met your eyes with a steeled look of his own. 

“She needed help. She was begging somebody to come rescue her. She was withering away in the Spring Court! You know how many times I’ve been pulled from bed because she’s vomiting during the night-” Rhys sounded exasperated. But you were tired, so tired. 

“You’ve barely come to bed since you’ve been back.” Your voice was hardly more than a whisper, but the deafening silence that followed your words made it sound like an explosion. You knew it was a low blow. Rhys sometimes couldn’t stomach sleeping in your bed after what Amarantha did to him. After he was startled awake one night a bolt of his power shot your sleeping form out of the bed because, in his nightmare-filled haze, he had mistaken you for her. He had felt awful, and now mostly slept in one of the guest rooms in fear that he would cause serious damage to you. You had tried to convince him, but he knew how powerful he could be, so you relented. 

“You don’t get to throw that in my face right now.” The growl that came from your husband sounded like cold black death. “She needs to be trained. She needs help-” all the pent-up emotion started to boil over inside you. Your airway got smaller, white noise was sounding through your head, and your eyes couldn’t focus on a spot infront of you. 

“I DO NOT CARE WHAT FEYRE NEEDS!” the boom in your voice surprised even you. Rhys took a step back, you rarely even raised your voice, let alone yelled at him. His eyes widened, but his flood of emotions quickly matched yours. 

“SHE SAVED ME! I PROMISED TO KEEP HER SAFE!” The way Rhy’s voice ricocheted off the walls made you flinch. The pure night-kissed power had stolen the warmth from the room and all the air from your lungs. 

“You made promises to me too. Do you remember that?” your voice echoed out with calm fury as you slipped your ring off your finger and held it up to the light. “Do you remember the promises you made to me when you put this ring on my finger?” You didn’t even know where the rage was coming from, You weren’t angry, but it grabbed ahold like cold unforgiving ocean waves and kept pulling you farther into the eye of the hurricane. “You pledged to me your undying loyalty, your faithfulness, your honesty.” That last word coated your tongue in acid. 

It burned you and Rhys as it left your mouth. 

“Do you truly believe I have been unfaithful to you?” his voice grated out like shards of glass. However, in your current state, it seemed more condescending than questioning. 

“I believe you are not being honest with me. I have been married to you for practically 100 years, and have known you even longer. Do you think I don’t know when you’re not telling me something?”  You shot up from your seat and slammed your wedding ring on the table. His violet shield slipped for just a moment to see the hurt flash in his eyes. You haven’t taken that ring off since he gave it to you. 

“You are being irrational.” Rhys tried to step towards you, but you only backed away from him, shaking your head as tears welled up in your eyes. 

“Why are you being so secretive about Feyre? She is engaged Rhys-you took her from her wedding. If she truly needed help why not bring her to Velaris? Why not let her meet me? Why not let her be happy with Tamlin?” The questions kept pouring out but the protective growl Rhysand made at your last statement had you recoiling. He had given himself away. He obviously knew it too, as he tried to step towards you. The tears kept pouring out as you shook your head. “You need to tell me what’s going on. Right now.” Rhys finally hung his head in defeat as he slumped into one of the chairs. He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands as he stared at your trembling figure from the other side of the table. 

“She is my mate.” Your eyes widened in horror. It felt like the dinner you made earlier tonight was going to make another appearance on your kitchen floor. “She is my mate and I don’t know what to do.” 

“What do you mean you don’t know what to do?” Your voice was shaking with scarcely contained fury as you stormed up to the table. “I am your wife. I am your people’s queen. What more is there to think about? I thought you loved me.” A new wave of tears washed over you, and you swear you could hear your heart breaking. It was so loud. You wonder if Rhys could hear it too. 

“Of course I love you!” he looked at you with desperation and pleading in his eyes. “It’s just more complicated.” You shook your head at him as your sobs finally flowed out of your body. 

“It shouldn’t be complicated,” you heaved out through the tears “You promised to choose me every day. If you can’t do that I can’t be here.” You turn from the table and march up the stairs. You distantly hear Rhys get up and follow you to your room as you shove clothes inside a bag. 

“What are you doing? You’re not leaving, are you?” His eyes widened in horror as he tried to grab the items out of your hands. “Darling-”

“Do not call me that right now.” You manage to sniff out the words behind the tears. “I just can’t be here if you cannot choose me. There shouldn’t even be a question.” 

“Where will you go?” He at least had it in him to sound concerned about your well-being. 

“I don’t know, anywhere but here.” You shoved the last thing in your suitcase and winnowed away without another word. You left Rhysand in your house, with your ring sitting on the table. He found himself sitting at the kitchen table for the rest of the night, nursing a bottle of whisky and running over the cool sapphire with the pad of his thumb. He didn’t know if you were ever coming back. He didn’t know where you went. 

What the fuck had he done?