#No tendency to crowd into cities

[aro-culture-is]

Aro-culture is trying to understand why society created the most ridiculous rituals and signs for romance and not finding a single answer/or that makes sense.

(No seriously, all the explanations I find are dumb. Send help)

.

[anto-pops]

Midnight Rendezvous - Sylus x Female!Reader

Summary: An unmistakable tension has always existed between you and Sylus, and despite trying, you’ve never been able to make much sense of it. He’s haughty, arrogant, and too attractive for his own good. After he intervenes and saves you from a questionable situation during a girl’s night out, he whisks you away to his house despite your protests. You want to hate him— you want to be mad at him— but it’s increasingly difficult to fight against your desires, and before long… you stop trying. 

Alternatively summarized as you and Sylus having steamy, passionate sex for the first time. 

Word Count: 13.9k

Warnings: 18+, explicit sexual content, rough sex, size difference

Full fic can be found here on Ao3 (with more diverse tags)

The Midnight Bar was, for all intents and purposes, an eclectic melting pot for all of Linkon’s denizens. With its colorful strobe lights and intense, pounding music that poured from the open doorway, it beckoned to any and all passersby, tempting them to set foot past the threshold and lose themselves in the sea of bodies that congregated on the dance floor. More often than not, you dismissed your repetitive, fleeting inclinations to come here for a night of fun. It was easier to justify your homebody tendencies with countless excuses that all pertained to work. But not tonight. 

No, tonight you wanted to let loose. You wanted to cast aside your worries and obligations for a few hours, to have a few fruity cocktails that you knew would have you on your ass tomorrow. You wanted to dance until your feet throbbed, until your back ached, until your ears rang and drowned out the never ending cacophony of concerns that plagued your mind.

Life was… complicated. You wanted to forget about it all for once. You wanted to be selfish. 

Tara had mercifully agreed to accompany you to the club. Phrasing it as a ‘girl’s night out’ had certainly helped matters, and her light-hearted aura would do wonders for your fluctuating emotions. It was easy to stay level headed when she was around, and you found yourself wondering if the data analyst was even aware of her influence. 

From your rooted position on the dance floor, you could see Tara at the bar waiting dutifully for the drinks she’d offered to buy, chatting with the burly bartender all the while. You knew you had no business drinking anymore– you’d had three of those strawberry whatever’s already– but the night called for it, and your clammy palms craved the chilled feeling of the thick, cocktail glass more than was probably healthy. The steady ebb and flow of the music had you moving in sync with the crowd around you flawlessly; your hips swayed, your arms languidly rose above your head, and your eyes fluttered shut as you rolled your head back to toss a few strands of hair out of your face. 

Nothing else existed to you in that moment, and you were more than willing to ride the brainless high for a while longer. Wanderers, Grandma and Caleb, The Hunter’s Association, your heart condition… all of it was inconsequential. Every thought that entered your mind dissipated into nothing just as quickly as it appeared, and the last thing you planned to do was squander a second of the reprieve. 

That is, until a warm, broad hand appeared on your waist. 

Your eyes flew open at the same time you looked over your shoulder, and your field of view was instantly obscured by a familiar chest clad in a black and red button-up shirt. A smokey, almost spicy cologne flooded your senses, and you recognized the scent even before you craned your neck back to meet Sylus’ imposing gaze. He looked the same as always; annoyingly attractive. His pale hair was effortlessly combed off his forehead to showcase those ruby-red eyes that had once imbued you with a healthy dose of fear. Now though, the sight of them only stoked the flames of rebellion within you. 

What the hell was he doing in Linkon City? Why was he here of all places? 

“All this time and I only ever had you pegged as an indoor cat,” his sultry voice reverberated against you as he bent down to speak directly against your ear, and much to your dismay, you shivered involuntarily. “You never fail to surprise me, kitten.” 

On shaky legs, you managed to step out of Sylus’ reach, his fingers trailing across your hip until you were far enough away that his hand fell back to his side. His expression was the usual smug variant you typically saw plastered to his face, and he cocked his head to the side as he took in your disheveled appearance. For whatever reason, your confidence from earlier seemed to vanish completely, and you found yourself feeling incredibly self-conscious having him see you like this. There wasn’t a doubt in your mind that you looked… messy. The thin sheen of sweat on your face had your hair clinging to your cheeks for dear life, and the thrum of liquor in your veins warmed you so thoroughly that you were confident you were flushed from head to toe. 

Out of everyone that could have possibly crossed your path tonight, why did it have to be him? You would have preferred that Zayne walked in to chastise you for your poor life choices rather than the puffed up, Adonis-incarnate before you now. Stupid Sylus with his stupid, attractive smile and his stupid perfect body. 

Having stared at him for long enough, you mercifully didn’t slur your words when you bit out, “What are you doing here?” 

“I think I’m the one who should be asking you that, Miss Hunter.” He easily closed the minuscule distance between the two of you with half a step, gingerly putting the back of his hand against your forehead to gauge your temperature. You swatted the appendage away and scowled, your irritation rising when he smirked in response to the motion. “What will people say when they hear that Linkon’s valiant defender is drunk in the club on a Thursday night? Have you finally tossed away your self-imposed restrictions to join the rest of society in debauchery?” 

“I’m not drunk,” you retorted, and the dry look Sylus shot you conveyed just how willing he was to believe you. “I’m not! I’m just having a bit of fun. I don’t work tomorrow, so Tara and I decided to have a girl’s night out. Which means you can’t be here.” 

“Can’t I? Or will you run to the nearest police officer and tell them that the leader of Onychinus showed face at the Midnight Bar? I didn’t think you had it in you, sweetie.” 

To hear him even suggest such a thing made your stomach sink into the floor, and you stood up straight as you nervously glanced around the room to make sure no one had heard him so boldly announcing his title. “Quiet down! I swear it’s like you want to be caught. I wouldn’t do that, I just– why are you even here? Shouldn’t you be at home?” 

At home clearly meant the N109 Zone, but Sylus picked up on your shrouded speech well enough. He fluidly shifted to allow a cluster of younger girls to dart past him through the crowd, but his eyes never wavered from yours. “Why else would I deign to grace Linkon City with my presence? I’m here on business. It’s since concluded, but I wanted to grab a drink. I wasn’t expecting to find you in the middle of the dance floor all by yourself.” 

Your tipsy brain was slow to process all of his information, the most prudent of which had to do with who he was discussing business with in this part of the city. You didn’t even bother to ask, though. Sylus could avoid your questions like he was born to do it, and you were painfully aware of how much he loved to goad you. Better to let the matter rest… for now. 

You crossed your arms over your chest– suddenly acutely aware of the plunging neckline of your dress– and did your best to sound firm. “Well, don’t stop on my account. Go get your drink so I can go back to what I was doing.” 

Those eyes of his were predatory in every sense of the word. You may as well have been naked with how vulnerable you felt on the receiving end of his unrelenting stare. “And leave you all alone here? Perish the thought.” 

Right on cue, you spotted Tara’s familiar head of hair bobbing and weaving through the crowd, both of her arms raised to protect the integrity of the two cocktails she held from the ever shifting sea of bodies. You instantly relaxed at the sight of her, and if Sylus’s raised brow was anything to go by, he noticed your change in demeanor almost immediately. He glanced over his shoulder in time to spot Tara emerging from the throng of bodies, one of the drinks in her hands already outstretched towards you. 

“The wait was crazy, but the bartender was really nice!” She had to shout over the roar of the music, an easygoing smile already playing on her lips. You took the offered beverage from her while she continued, “He gave me his employee discount for both of the drinks. I think he liked–”

You knew the exact moment Tara noticed the six foot two giant towering over you, her brown eyes becoming comically wide as she shifted her weight to look up at Sylus. Recognition flashed across her face, and for a brief moment you felt a genuine surge of panic. But then her expression smoothed out, and she gently patted Sylus’ shoulder in a friendly greeting. 

“You’re Skye, right? It’s been forever! What are you doing here?” 

Skye? You were confused for all of two seconds until you remembered the one and only time Tara had ever met Sylus; at the hotel all those weeks ago during your team building exercise. You thought he had been pretending to be a fruit vendor, up until he let you know that he would order more of the watermelon served there that you loved so much, cluing you in on the fact that he had some kind of dealings with the establishment. The enigma of a man seemed to have his fingers in damn near every pie in Linkon and the N109 Zone. 

Was nowhere safe from his influence? Honestly… 

The conversation between your two acquaintances had continued in the midst of your reminiscing, and Sylus pinned you with a knowing look, which brought yet another scowl to your face. “I’m just passing through. I happened to see Miss Hunter over here looking incredibly lonely, so I decided I’d come and say hello.”

Liar. “I already told you I was here for a girl’s night out. As you can see, the girls are back together and in the middle of something.”

Tara’s glassy eyes lit up as the worst idea imaginable came to mind. “I don’t mind if you want to hang out with us, Skye. You can be one of the girls for the night if you’d like.” 

The giggle that slipped out of Tara spoke volumes of her inebriated state, and you opted to blame all the alcohol for giving her enough courage to invite a borderline stranger into your circle. If she knew the truth about the man standing mere inches away from her, you knew her tone would change in an instant. Thankfully though, Sylus interjected before you got the chance to, seemingly on the same page as you for once. 

“Thank you for the invite, but I can’t linger tonight. You two have your fun, I’ll be at the bar for a bit before I need to head out. The fruit business never sleeps, I’m afraid.”

The ease with which he lied out of his ass was something that needed to be studied by professionals, you were certain. Still, you were grateful that he was taking pity on you and excusing himself, though you had to admit you were… surprised by it. The Sylus you knew wouldn’t turn his nose up at a chance to taunt you and keep you on your toes. Even though he had revealed sides of himself to you that you hadn’t expected, at the end of the day, Sylus was an instigator at his core. 

Red eyes glittering with mirth met yours for the briefest of moments before the Onychinus leader turned on his heel to head for the bar, and the crowd of people that surrounded the three of you seemed to part for him effortlessly. Countless heads turned to watch Sylus as he went, women and men alike staring after him with varying degrees of attraction and envy written across their faces. You could hardly blame them. 

Men more than likely wanted to be him, and women no doubt wanted to be with him. He seemed to have that effect on everyone he crossed paths with. 

“Is there something going on between you two?” 

Your head swiveled back towards Tara so fast, the movement practically gave you whiplash. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

She playfully shoved your shoulder, which only succeeded in pushing herself away from you as she stumbled back a step. No more drinks for her, you thought to yourself. “Oh come on,” she drawled. “The tension between you and him is thick enough to cut with a knife. Plus the way he stares at you? I would melt if I was on the receiving end of those eyes.”

Thoroughly fed up with the conversation already, you simply shook your head and brought your drink to your lips, your eyes unconsciously seeking Sylus out. He was exactly where he said he would be; at the bar with a glass already pinched between his long, lithe fingers. How he had gotten a drink so fast, you didn’t know, and you furrowed your brows in confusion at the same time his gaze zeroed in on you from across the room. He raised his beverage to you and tipped his head forward in a leisurely manner, but you only gave him a nonplussed blink in response before looking away. 

“Exhibit A,” Tara tactfully pointed out when you returned to paying attention to her. “What would be the harm? He’s handsome, he’s got to be smart with all the business deals he’s involved in, he’s polite. He could be good for you if you gave him a chance.” 

“Tara, you have no idea what you’re talking about. He’s–” you cut yourself off, trying and failing to come up with a justification that didn’t out him as the head of a massive crime organization. In the end you settled for, “He’s a complicated guy. Can we just forget about it? Please?” 

“Fine, fine,” she waved off your pleading and took a hearty sip of her drink, motioning for you to do the same. “I’ll let it slide this once, but don’t think for one second that I’m dropping the subject forever. Anyways, do you think the DJ is taking requests?” 

Thankfully it didn’t take you long to fall back into your previously upbeat mood. The steady supply of alcohol and the rancorous thrum of your heartbeat in your ears certainly helped matters, and when the song Tara had requested finally came on over the pounding speakers, you shed the remainder of your inhibitions and downed the rest of your drink to free up your hands and dance wildly. It took a herculean effort not to glance back to the bar to see if Sylus was still perched on the stool in the corner, but your willpower won out in the end as you swayed your hips to the tempo of the dark, seductive music. 

Lost in the sea of bodies around you, your senses were overwhelmed with all the different sights, sounds, and smells that surrounded you. The tang of everyone’s sweat mixed together wasn’t altogether unpleasant, and the sickly sweet taste of the lingering cocktail on your lips had you wetting them as red strobe lights darted overhead. Heat from everyone packed in tight next to one another had sweat dripping down your brow, your chest, your back— so you dexterously gathered your hair in one hand to lift off of your neck to offer some reprieve. 

Tara was a blur in the corner of your eye, but you still knew she was somewhere in front of you. That was how you knew the hand on the nape of your neck wasn’t hers, and the absence of Sylus’ trademark scent told you that it wasn’t him, either. 

Ambushed by an errant hand for the second time in one night, you were quick to spin around and shove the stranger away. It was a man– an unfamiliar one at that– who looked all too put out to have been so harshly rejected within the first five seconds of trying. His hair was so black that underneath the club’s technicolored lights, it looked blue. Pale green eyes were narrowed in confusion at you, though you noticed how he immediately attempted to school his expression once you’d turned around. 

“Hey,” he called over the thrumming base of the music. “Want to dance?”

Suddenly bashful at having been so harsh, you did your best to ease up your defensive stance and allowed for a polite smile to play on your lips while you shook your head. “Thank you, but no thanks. I’m here with my friend.” 

Apparently being nice wasn’t going to work, because the stranger stepped close enough to sling his arms across your and Tara’s shoulders, and with the brief look the two of you shared, you could tell neither one of you was particularly thrilled about it. “The more the merrier! Why don’t you two come over to my booth in the corner? I’m sure my friends would love to meet you.”

Calmly but firmly, you grabbed for the man’s hand to unsling it from around your neck, taking a small step away from him as you reached for Tara. “No thank you, we’re good–”

His hand shot out quickly, and you blamed the alcohol in your system for nullifying your reaction time, because the bastard succeeded in grabbing your forearm to pull you closer once again. His nails dug into your flesh hard enough that you winced, and when you tried pulling back, you felt the telltale sting of skin breaking. “Oh come on,” he crooned, giving you an undiluted nose-full of the stale beer on his breath. “Don’t be such a buzzkill. A couple of beautiful women such as yourselves deserve a night of fun, wouldn’t you say?” 

Tara interjected this time, looking more uncomfortable than you’d ever seen her before. “We’re really fine, please let go–”

A shadow crossed your vision for a moment; large, imposing, and radiating an aura that you could only describe as murderous. Smokey cologne filled your nostrils as Sylus wrenched the man’s hand away from your arm, then picked him up by the scruff of his shirt to glare menacingly into his eyes. Over the blaring music, you had no idea what the green-eyed stranger was saying, but you could make out the sound of him stammering as he clawed at the arm that held him inches off the ground. 

For a minute, you really thought Sylus was going to end the man’s life. Even in the midst of hoisting an adult male off the floor by the fabric of his shirt, he didn’t move a muscle. It didn’t even look like he was struggling. He was eerily still, and when you moved to catch a glimpse of his side profile, there was no missing the white hot stare he had glued to his prey. 

Tentatively, you placed your hand on his shoulder, squeezing softly to get his attention. “Sylus, we’re fine– just put him down, please.” 

Aside from a muscle in his jaw ticking minutely, he gave no indication that he had heard you. You tried again, “Sylus please. People are staring, you’re causing a scene.” 

Truthfully you couldn’t care less about the people in the club watching everything unfold, but you were worried about police being called in and discovering who exactly Sylus was. The thought of him being taken away unnerved you, and even though you knew he could more than likely escape beforehand, you feared for the people that would inevitably be caught in the crossfire. 

Beneath your palm, you felt Sylus’ bicep flex before he roughly dropped the man from his ironclad grip. The stranger, wide-eyed with terror, stumbled when his feet hit the floor, but he didn’t waste any time disappearing into the crowd and vanishing from sight. You sighed with relief, grateful that things hadn’t ended badly, then looked back to the silver haired man. His red eyes were fixed on your arm where the stranger had scratched you; four stark, crescent shaped wounds were etched into your skin. Sylus gently took your hand in his to bring your forearm closer for him to inspect, lightly running his fingers over the wounds, and despite the severity of the situation, you felt your face flushing from the intimacy of the gesture. 

“Come on,” Sylus practically growled, his grip on your hand tightening. “We’re leaving.” 

“I– wait, what?” You tried wrenching your arm free from the imposing man’s vice grip, but it was like pulling at Protocore infused shackles. “Sylus, let me go! What about Tara? I can’t leave her here alone.” 

“Luke and Kieran are already on their way. They’ll take her home.” He didn’t look at you as he half-pulled, half-dragged you through the crowd towards the front doors of the club. It took everything in you not to stumble in your heels and sprawl out on the sticky, tile floor, but something told you that even if you did, Sylus would just haul you up and toss you over his shoulder before you made contact with the ground. When the two of you made it outside, the cool air was like a sobering slap to the face, and you blinked rapidly as Sylus released your hand long enough to open the passenger side door of a sleek, black car parked in the front. He gestured stiffly to the seat, “Get in.” 

The flame of rebellion reserved especially for Sylus and his insufferable brand of arrogance roared to life in a split second. Any gratitude you might have felt towards him dissipated into the air like smoke. Your eyes sharpened into something lethal, and your hands curled into fists at your sides as you stood your ground on the sidewalk– silently daring him to physically move you into the car, because you would sooner go head to head with a den of Wanderers before you let yourself be ordered around by him. 

“No.”  

“What if I asked nicely?” 

“No,” you doubled down firmly, your nails biting into the skin of your palms as you beat back the urge to smack him. 

“Kitten,” Sylus’ voice was a low rumble, but the nickname came out as anything but calm. It held a dangerous edge to it, like something akin to thunder sounding before lightning struck. “Now really isn’t the time to show me your claws. Please, get in the car.” 

“Screw you, Sylus. I already said no. I’ll walk–” 

The familiar, cold tendrils of his Evol snaked around your torso, lashing out too fast for you to track or dodge. There was an almost imperceivable tug against your midsection, and the next thing you knew, you were being haphazardly thrown into the car. Any whiplash the motion would have caused was prevented by the red mist that cradled your head. By the time you realized what had happened, Sylus was shutting the door on you and striding around to the driver’s side, ignoring the wary stares from the people outside waiting to be let into the club. 

“Are you out of your mind?” You snapped as soon as he climbed in, and your blood boiled when he wouldn’t even do you the service of looking at you while you raged. “You’re completely out of line! You don’t get to just decide to kidnap me when I’m out with my friends. Do you have any idea how embarrassing this is?” 

“You’ll get over it,” he muttered, throwing the gear in drive before peeling away from the curb. He spun the car around so quickly that you found yourself leaning uncomfortably against the door, and as he evened out the steering wheel and took off down the street, the erratic motions had you bouncing between the window and the center console. “You might want to buckle up, sweetie.” 

He shot you a sidelong look when you jerked on the seatbelt hard enough for it to lock in place, then snickered when you were forced to be gentler to draw the strap across your lap. “Keep laughing like that and you’ll have to sleep with one eye open tonight,” you muttered, clicking the buckle into place. 

Sylus chuckled softly under his breath, his knuckles blanching white against the steering wheel for a brief moment before he said, “I’m counting on it, kitten.” 

—

Insufferable. Demanding. Egotistical. Infuriatingly charming. Too suave for his own good. All of those terms could be used to describe Sylus, but even then it wasn’t enough. No dictionary in the world had enough words to characterize the man’s personality, and you were positive that if you tried finding one, you would be on the hunt for the rest of your life. 

After arriving at his house in the N109 Zone, you’d bitten his head off for not taking you home. When he had countered with the claim that he’d never specified where he was taking you to begin with, you had thrown your hands in the air and stomped away into the living room, at your wits end for the nth time tonight. He had given you a modicum of space to let you cool off shortly thereafter, until he had reappeared to let you know that Luke and Kieran had dropped Tara off at her house safe and sound. 

That had… helped your mood a little. While Sylus was an exasperating person as a whole, you knew that you could trust him to have your friend delivered home unharmed. Luke and Kieran were reliable too– at least, they were when they weren’t conspiring to get you and their boss into compromising situations.

You had never really forgiven them for setting you up that night you were searching for Sylus’ brooch. If Sylus was the ringmaster of Onychinus, Luke and Kieran were the acrobats bending over backwards to please him. 

“There’s a change of clothes by the bathroom,” Sylus’ gravelly voice sounded from somewhere behind you, but you didn’t bother looking away from the massive bay windows to acknowledge him. “You can go shower if you want. If you’re still adamant about going home afterwards, then I’ll take you.” 

You barked out a humorless laugh, and you saw Sylus narrow his eyes at you in the reflection of the window. “Why so hospitable all of a sudden? You didn’t care about what I wanted when you were hauling me out of the club like a petulant child.” 

“I’m sorry, are we forgetting the part where I got rid of the human scum that was yanking you around like a dog on a leash?” 

You dumbly shook your head, baffled and bewildered that he had justifications ready to dish out after behaving so boorishly. “While I appreciate that you intervened, I had it under control.”

One second he was across the room glaring at the back of your head. The next, he was inches away from you, peering down at you like an ominous shadow with predatory intent plastered all over his face. Sylus swiftly captured your hand in his to reveal the tiny row of scratches on your forearm, his gentle ministrations so at odds with his stormy demeanor. He cocked a brow at you and condescendingly said, “You and I have very different definitions of what ‘under control’ means, kitten.” 

“Whatever,” you muttered, easily withdrawing your arm back to your side. “It’s not like he could have done anything serious. We had people all around us, and security would have come over eventually–”

“For future reference, don’t rely on drunk patrons to protect you. I expected better from a Linkon Hunter. You have no idea what that man wanted with you and your friend.” 

“Oh, and you do?”

“Yes.”

That one word from Sylus made you pause, your mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, and your face crinkled in confusion as you processed the meaning behind his declaration. “You… Did you use your Evol?”

Not the least bit ashamed at having been caught, Sylus turned away from you to look out the floor to ceiling window. “He may as well have been screaming his desires with how loud his thoughts were. What he wanted was vile,” he stated roughly, “and he would have gotten it whether you were a willing participant or not.” 

The silence that filled the living room was deafening, and you nervously looked down to the floor as you shifted your weight between your feet. To hear the real reason why Sylus had felt the need to intervene… it explained the cold-blooded expression you’d seen on his face. Moreover, you were glad that he hadn’t left like he had said he would. 

Should you apologize? It felt wrong to just ignore the fact that Sylus could very well have saved your life tonight, and Tara’s by extension. He was as stubborn and headstrong as they came, but he wasn’t a monster. He had protected you countless times before now, and despite your brain’s unwillingness to fully agree, you had a sneaking suspicion that the crime lord had a soft spot for you. You’d come to terms with that fact a long time ago. At the very least, you felt like you owed him a sincere apology for being such a brat in the face of his kindness. 

If it could even be called that. 

Your mouth opened so those two little words could slip free and ease the weight that had settled on your shoulders, but Sylus’ finger stopped you. The slender digit pressed against your lips and prevented you from saying anything, and you looked up at him through your lashes as you blinked slowly in confusion. 

“Go clean up. We can talk more after, if you’d like.” 

The softness of his voice coupled with the tenderness of his gaze compelled you to listen. No retorts, no witty one-liners, no arguments formed on your tongue. For the first time since knowing him, you weren’t in the mood to butt heads or deny him. 

So you listened. 

—

He was waiting for you when you finished in the bathroom. 

Maybe it was more appropriate to say that he’d simply retired to his room after waiting for nearly an hour. After all, you were technically using his shower. The gray cotton pajamas that had been left for you on the bathroom counter were soft, thin, and fit like a glove. You had taken a good minute to relish in the comfortable feeling of them before slipping out of the steam filled chamber. 

Sylus was thumbing over the collection of records on the shelf when you emerged, his broad back to you as he thoughtfully debated on which one to play. He made no move to acknowledge your presence, but you already knew he had heard you walk out of the bathroom. He was too perceptive to overlook anyone sneaking up on him. 

Padding over to the bed, you sat down on the edge of the mattress and mulled over the countless different things you could say to him. ‘I’m sorry’ was seemingly the most prudent. There was also the ‘thank you’ route, which wasn’t a bad option considering he had made sure Tara made it home safely in addition to coming to your aide. Part of you even wanted to ask why he cared to go so far out of his way for you when you were merely… well, you. Sure, your paths had intertwined some time ago, and he had helped you out in choppy situations a few times before. But at the end of the day, the two of you couldn’t be more different, and it wasn’t like you’d made it easy for him to get to know you. 

Why did he care to help you? 

You could already hear his possible responses playing in your mind. He would probably say something like “I protect my investments,” or “You have a habit of looking so pitiful, I can’t help myself”. Something that would affirm that you were important to him while still keeping you at arm’s length. This cat and mouse game you had going with him was maddening, and you were starting to lose your grip on what was real and what was a facade. 

“If you think any harder, you’re going to hurt yourself, kitten.” 

Sylus’ voice drew you back into the present moment, and you glanced towards him in time to watch him slide a vinyl case off the shelf before carefully thumbing the packaging open. His captivating red eyes landed on you as he deposited the disk onto the record player, effortlessly dropping the needle down without so much as blinking. An almost bewitching melody filled the room, and then Sylus was setting down the case to walk towards you, his stride slow and purposeful. Stopping a few inches away from you, he delicately picked up a strand of your damp hair to coil around his finger as he raked his eyes over your body. 

The pajamas he’d chosen were definitely meant for hot nights, that was for sure. The soft, gossamer shorts left nearly all of your legs on display. Nevermind the racy neckline of the matching, lace-lined tank top. All in all, you were wearing more skin than you were clothes. 

“I was thinking,” you started to say, tilting your chin up to meet his unyielding stare. “I owe you an apology.” 

One perfectly groomed brow quirked up in response. “Oh?”

“I know I can be stubborn sometimes–” 

“The understatement of the century,” he mused thoughtfully. 

“Shush, I need to say this.” You sighed before pressing on undaunted, your tone hardening, “That being said, I’d be ungrateful if I didn’t acknowledge that I was out of my element tonight. I honestly don’t know if things would have gone the way you said they would, but even so I can see now that I wasn’t in a state of mind to properly protect myself or Tara. Your methods were… unorthodox, but you being there was appreciated, and I’m sorry that I snapped at you.” 

Sylus was quiet for a few seconds, taking in your words with an almost serene expression on his face. His thumb traced over the strand of your hair around his finger, then let it slip away to caress the side of your cheek with his knuckles. Your breathing hitched– startled by the gesture– but you made no move to pull away or stop him. It was rare for you to be able to perceive him so… openly. 

His voice was low, barely a whisper as he murmured, “You never have to thank me for the things I do. Especially not for tonight.” 

The way he grazed your cheekbone with his fingertips before tracing the outline of your jaw had your mouth firmly sealed. If you tried to speak, you already knew your voice would come out pitifully small. It had nothing to do with feeling small, however. The utter longing in Sylus’ gaze coupled with the almost reverent way he touched your face made you feel… important. He was looking at you like you were the only thing he cared about within the four walls, which was saying something when you stopped to consider all the valuables and collectables he kept hidden away in his bedroom. 

But you didn’t stop to think. Not really. Your brain was mercifully silent as you studied his eyes, his posture, his lips. Something had shifted between the two of you, and you didn’t know if you were eager or scared to discover what that meant. Sylus’ thumb slid over your lips, his touch featherlight as well as chill-inducing. The hunger in his eyes was unmistakable as the corner of his mouth twitched up into a half smirk. 

“Let tonight be a lesson to you, kitten; never let your guard down around anyone,” his gaze flickered from your face to your chest, then lazily swept down the rest of your seated form. “Especially not when you’re out for a night on the town looking like the human embodiment of temptation.” 

“Temptation?” You echoed dumbly, and Sylus shook his head to himself as he laughed softly. 

“Don’t tell me you were completely oblivious to how you looked in the middle of the club earlier. I’ll admit, the amount of eyes you had on you made me… twitchy. I should burn that dress to cinders, but then I’d never get to see you in it again.” 

You blinked in surprise, a tingling warmth spreading from your chest all the way down your torso before settling between your legs. “I– you liked it?” 

It should have made you laugh the way Sylus had to bend down so much to put his eyes at the same level as yours, but humor had flown right out the fucking window the second he started caressing your face. His blatant desire burned you, his touch leaving a trail of fire in its wake. Red eyes bored into yours, and his face was close enough that you could see the darker shade of red that rimmed his irises. Being so up close and personal with his lips also made thinking difficult, but the one thought you managed to cling onto was how soft they looked, and how much you wanted to feel them against yours. 

This man was quickly becoming your undoing, and you truly didn’t think you had it in you to fight against your baser urges. 

“I liked the dress,” Sylus said huskily, his fingers leaving your face to ghost down the side of your neck. “I liked your heels, and I definitely liked your dancing.” His fingers moved to curl around the back of your neck, pulling you ever so slightly closer to him so that his breath fanned across your cheeks as his eyes eagerly fell to your lips. “Would you be offended if I said I like you?” 

The shallow breath you drew into your lungs was like music to Sylus’ ears, and you felt his hand stiffen against the nape of your neck as he awaited your response. Formulating words was a bit of a challenge, however, seeing as all you could focus on was the unrepentant fantasies that were currently bombarding your brain. You wanted him bad, and the wet heat ravaging your lower body was a testament to that fact. 

“I’m going to need an answer, sweetie,” Sylus purred, all too pleased with the way you seemed to unconsciously move your face closer to his. “Or am I meant to read your mind to find out for myself?”

“I’m not offended,” your response was airy– barely a whisper– but Sylus heard you loud and clear, and he grinned wickedly as his grip on your neck tightened. “I think I like you too.” 

“It’s about time.” 

Those three little words came out roughly, but you hardly got the chance to dwell on the gravelly timbre to Sylus’ voice. His lips were on yours in the next second, stealing your breath and igniting a fire in your veins that threatened to burn you from the inside out. Every one of your senses was overcome with Sylus; his smokey scent, the throaty moan he let slip, the feeling of his fingers burying themselves in your still damp hair. You heard him kick off his shoes without breaking away, and then you felt the mattress dip under his weight as he supported himself over you with one of his knees. Looming above you, you were entirely at his mercy as he used the newfound angle to his advantage, sweeping his tongue along the roof of your mouth as he devoured the minuscule sounds that emanated from you. You cautiously wrapped your significantly smaller hand around his thick wrist, drawing him close enough into your space that you had to lean back on the bed to accommodate his larger frame. 

“The things you do to me,” Sylus rumbled, leaning his head to the side to trail hot, open mouthed kisses down your neck, flicking his tongue against your pulse with a low hum. “So unbelievably perfect. You have no idea what I want to do to you.” 

Emboldened by his praise, you let your hands rest on his narrow waist so your nails could dig into the silky fabric of his dress shirt. “Show me, then,” you replied, turning your head so you could stare up at him as your teeth began to bite at your swollen bottom lip. 

In a flash, Sylus had moved off of you to wedge his arms under your armpits, effortlessly hoisting you off the edge of the bed so he could better toss you towards the mountain of pillows near the headboard. A surprised yelp sounded from you as your ass made contact with the smooth, satin sheets, and you watched blearily as Sylus deftly began undoing the top buttons of his shirt with one hand as his eyes raked over you. “You don’t have any idea what kind of effect you have on me, do you? You drive me crazy and you’re none the wiser to it. Ignorance really is bliss, huh?”

“I–” you didn’t know what to say or where to look, especially once the muscled expanse of his chest started to show itself. “I’m sorry?” 

Chuckling darkly, Sylus finished off the remaining clasps on his shirt and shrugged the attire off, tossing it somewhere near the record player before making his way to the side of the bed. “Actions speak louder than words, kitten. Why don’t you show me just how sorry you are?” His hands gestured towards his belt in an unspoken question, and while it took you a second to figure out what it was that he wanted, you were quick to shuffle towards him to get started once your brain caught up. “So eager to please… I’m impressed.” 

You ignored his teasing to the best of your ability. Cold feet wouldn’t serve you well now– not when every fiber of your being was heated with blatant arousal. The urge to please him, to pleasure him, to drive him to further madness, was overwhelming. Nimble as a cat, you undid his belt and let the metal buckle fall away with a resounding clink. The catch of his pants went next, and you made sure to glance up at him through your lashes as you slowly dragged the zipper down, reveling in the lust-filled gaze he fixed you with. 

Sylus let you do the majority of the work, only deigning to lend you a hand when you struggled to pull his pants down over the swell of his rear. A throaty laugh sounded from above you when your eyes nearly bugged out of your head at the sight of his briefs. The unmistakable outline of his girth was apparent through the dark fabric, and fuck– was he big. 

How the hell was that supposed to fit anywhere inside you? 

“Don’t tell me you’re nervous,” Sylus taunted, his index finger and thumb coming to grip your chin and tilt your head up at him. “Just take it slow. I’ll talk you through it.” 

All his promise did was give you butterflies. You swallowed thickly, nodding as he released you so you could turn back to the task at hand. Almost hesitantly you slipped your fingers under the waistband of his dark undergarments, taking care to let your hands graze the delectable ‘V’ of his lower stomach before you pulled them down and revealed inch after inch of his insane member. You couldn’t help it that your mouth fell open at the sight. 

Sylus’ cock wasn’t just big, it was thick. The sheer weight of it fought against its erect nature and had it drooping menacingly before your parted lips. The shiny, red tip was already oozing pre-cum, causing it to glimmer as it reflected the dim overhead lighting. A sparse collection of darker, neatly trimmed hair surrounded his shaft, and you unconsciously found your nails scraping gently through it before you took him in your hands. Even with both of the appendages working together to grip him, there was still ample space left untouched and exposed, and you licked your lips before glancing up at the silver haired man with expectant eyes. 

Sylus still looked surprisingly put together despite the circumstances, but the way his chest rose and fell quicker than normal spoke volumes of his excitement. His red eyes glittered with anticipation, and one of his large hands carded through your hair before gripping the strands firmly enough to maneuver your cheek directly against his throbbing manhood. He sighed as soon as your skin made contact with it, gently moving you around by your tresses until his tip bumped against your lips. 

“Open,” came his sultry command. 

With nowhere else to go you heeded his instruction and stuck your tongue out, ready and willing for whatever he had planned for you. He let you guide his cock into the warm, inviting prison that was your mouth, and without any further pointers from him, you took him as far as you could before you felt the head bumping the back of your throat. The urge to gag came and went quickly as you hollowed your cheeks around your mouthful, and the ragged sound Sylus let slip conveyed his approval well enough. 

It was a tad difficult to crane your neck back to sneak a glance at him, but from what you could see, he was breathing heavily and looking down at you with wonder. “You’re quite the little minx, aren’t you?” 

You hummed your confirmation, the vibrations from the action making the hand in your hair squeeze tighter around the strands, and the soft curse that emanated from him was like music to your ears. 

“Fuck– slowly now, keep your tongue out and mind your teeth. Tap my leg if you need to stop, alright kitten?” 

Stopping was the absolute last thing you wanted to do, but you dipped your head just enough to let him know you were in agreement. Sylus cupped the underside of your jaw with his free hand while the other stayed firmly rooted in your hair– fully in control of your head from that moment forward– and you allowed for your hands to slip away from the base of his cock so you could brace your palms on his toned thighs. His first few thrusts were meant to test your resolve, seeing as they were shallow and relatively wary. Your jaw stayed slack throughout all of it though, and you even took it upon yourself to tense and untense your tongue as he plunged in and out. 

“Damn,” Sylus groaned as his eyes fell shut, the euphoric sensations prompting him to increase his pace ever so slightly. Your nails scraped against the skin of his thighs as you curled your hands into loose fists, the sordid, wet sounds of your mouth making your face flush with barely there embarrassment. “That’s it, darling. You’re doing great.” 

With his fingers wrapped under your jaw, the placement of his digits allowed you to become acutely aware of the bulge in your throat. Sylus’ cock edged deeper and deeper into your mouth with every pump of his hips, and when a strangled, choking sound finally broke free from your stuffed mouth, Sylus laughed darkly before opening his eyes to turn his attention back to you. 

“I wish you could see yourself right now.” Sylus emphasized the statement with a harsher buck of his hips, the head of his cock sliding past the back of your throat and reaching far enough that you felt it near the top of your esophagus. Your eyes pinched shut as tears welled up within them, then flew open as the man above you withdrew his shaft nearly all the way to give you the chance to breathe. Greedy gulps of air were sucked down immediately, followed by a harsh cough that forced the pooling tears in your eyes to cascade down your cheeks. “You make one hell of a pretty picture, sweetie. I’ll have to keep a camera on hand next time.” 

“C-Can I try?” You rasped out the question as you worked to catch your breath, and the amusement that lit up Sylus’ features was enough to harden your determination. 

He released the underside of your jaw and affectionately brushed a few strands of hair out of your face before dropping his hands entirely. “By all means. Show me what tricks you’ve got up your sleeve, Miss Hunter.” 

You weren’t inexperienced by any means, but the impressive size of Sylus had you reevaluating everything you’d ever learned. A blow job was a blow job, however, and you were certain that your enthusiasm would help cover any blind spots that would no doubt appear. 

Sylus watched with anticipation as you took him back in your hands and smiled up at him, resting the heavy head of his cock between your lips before you pursed them to press a warm, messy kiss to the sensitive tip. The tiny, evil glint in your tear-stained eyes clued him in on just how badly you yearned to make him crumble, and for probably the first time in his life, Sylus couldn’t wait to see someone try to knock him down a peg or two. 

With your eyes still glued to him, you slipped your tongue out and ran it slowly over the slit before curling the muscle around the swollen head with a soft sigh, gently stroking him once, then twice. You twisted your wrist slightly as you opened your mouth again to suck wetly at the pre-cum beading before your eyes, laving your tongue over the head hard enough for Sylus’ eyes to narrow for the briefest of moments. His hands clenched at his side, the insatiable urge to fuck into your mouth again taking over him, but he refrained from interrupting your show through sheer force of will alone. 

You smiled coyly up at him, entirely aware of the larger man’s internal struggle, and slowly slid his cock back into your mouth so your lips sealed right over the head as you sucked. It was wet and messy and noisy, and Sylus couldn’t help the way he twitched forward for more as a string of broken curses fell from his lips. 

Your eyes fluttered shut as you tilted your head to the side to mouth down Sylus’ length, sucking gently and soothing your tongue over the warm flesh as you went, and if the feeling and the sight of you wasn’t enough to leave Sylus a panting, eager mess, the slick sounds of your mouth would fucking do it for him. He kept his hands off but groaned loudly, trying his best to indicate that you should absolutely keep doing exactly that. 

His head fell back between his tense shoulders as he let out a low, rumbling moan, shivering when you curled your tongue around the underside of his cock and breathed a soft chuckle against him. You worked to stroke the parts of him that your lips weren’t worshiping, and the smooth, even touches were made even smoother by the copious amounts of saliva and pre-cum that already soaked his shaft. Sylus’ leg twitched minutely, his knee banging against the side of the bed frame, but all he could feel was your soft lips at the base of his cock followed by an agile twist around the slick head, smearing all the combined moisture around blindingly. He didn’t think it could get any better than that, but once you dipped your head low enough to take the skin of his balls into your mouth and suck delicately, Sylus was fighting to keep his head out of the clouds, because the sensation was absolutely otherworldly. 

“Fuck,” came Sylus’ garbled, gritted voice, his stomach tensing as his hands finally returned to your mussed hair. “Alright, you’ve proven your point, kitten.”

Hardly, you thought. You ignored the high strung edge to his voice and continued your ministrations, wrapping your lips around the head and taking him as deep as you could before you swallowed, and when Sylus choked on a rough gasp in response, you withdrew slowly, using the tip of your tongue to press along the underside of his cock. Sylus desperately wanted to stop you, because the last thing he had anticipated was cutting all the fun short by finishing in your mouth of all places– but then your tongue swirled around the tip again while you stroked every wet, exposed inch– and his fingers tightened around your strands of hair as he fought the urge to shove his cock back into the welcoming embrace of your mouth. 

He didn’t think it was possible for such a tiny thing to have such a dexterous tongue. There was simply no way anything born of this Earth could possibly be this versatile. 

“Enough,” Sylus growled abruptly, willing his brain to supersede his baser urges as he promptly pulled you off of him by your hair. The sting from the motion made you gasp, but the pleasure that came with being so easily manhandled quickly overshadowed the pain, and your hooded eyes drank in the sight of Sylus as you breathed in deeply. 

Red eyes hazy and unfocused, chest rising and falling rapidly, and a pretty flush you’d never seen before sneaking up his neck and spreading across his cheeks and ears. Oh yeah, you thought, he was definitely getting close. 

“Don’t look so smug,” Sylus rumbled, the slight strain in his voice barely noticeable. But you were a Linkon City Hunter, and being perceptive was technically a job requirement, so you absolutely took note of it. You couldn’t help but grin– awfully proud of yourself for riling him up this way– and let go of his cock to brace yourself on your arms as you leaned back. 

“Sorry, I just really liked the face you were making.” 

His eyes narrowed in an unspoken challenge, and before you could so much as blink, his larger body was covering the bulk of yours as he hoisted you back up the mattress so you were leaning against the throne of pillows once again. Red tendrils of his Evol aided him in the removal of your shirt, the lacy attire vanishing from view as he crawled backwards just enough so he could slip his fingers under the waistband of your pajama shorts before he said, “I hope it was worth it, because now it’s my turn to see what kinds of faces you’ll make, sweetie.” 

The effect his words had on you could have honestly been deemed concerning, and the pure bolt of arousal that shot through you when he started to drag your pants off without breaking eye contact was like nothing you had ever felt before. As soon as he had tossed your bottoms to the floor to join his own pile of clothing, he wasted little time in settling between your outstretched legs, wrapping one of his thick forearms over your waist to hold you in place as a devious expression spread across his face. 

“Try to hold still for me,” he breathed out softly. You opened your mouth to reply, but your words got cut off the second one of his fingers slid along your slit and pressed against your clit, wringing a strangled gasp from you as you inadvertently bucked your hips up into his touch. He tutted disapprovingly, “That’s the exact opposite of holding still.” 

“I–” another gasp filled the room as Sylus took to drawing languid circles around the bundle of nerves between your legs, the accumulated moisture there making the action effortless and positively heavenly. It took an insane amount of restraint to keep your hips still despite the blissful torment, your breathing becoming increasingly erratic as Sylus played with you, testing your reactions and pushing your limits as though your body was a new toy he was trying out. Your nails dug into your palms in an attempt to ground yourself, your bottom lip throbbing as you savaged it with your teeth. 

As soon as Sylus’ mouth appeared against your entrance, there was no stopping the unconscious jerk of your hips against his face. His muffled laughter against you didn’t help matters, and you wheezed shakily as you grabbed for a fistful of the sheets with one hand while slapping the other over your mouth. Keening, desperate little moans slipped through your fingers, Sylus’ tongue reducing you to a brainless pile of limbs faster than you could process. The tense muscle probed and swept inside of you while his thumb rubbed maddeningly over your clit, the dual stimulation borderline torturous, and your stifled groan drew Sylus’ attention as he increased the tempo of his tongue. 

The arm draped across your waist extended in the next second, and you felt as the silver haired man grabbed for the hand covering your mouth. You let him pull your arm down to your side, his palm tracing down your heated skin until it reached your own, and then he was intertwining your fingers together to hold the limb there. His lips left your core for the briefest of moments, just long enough for him to murmur breathlessly, “Don’t hide those pretty sounds from me, kitten. I want to hear all of it.” 

It should have been anatomically impossible, but you somehow managed to flush even deeper than before. Sylus kept his eyes on you as he returned to licking and sucking at your soaked center, his pupils blown wide and completely dilated as he worked to tear the most sinful, desperate noises from your scratchy throat. He truly looked like some kind of irresistible sex demon– risen from the depths of Hell to torment you and reduce you to a brainless, twitching mess of a human– and God was he succeeding. You were torn between wanting it all to end with your release and simultaneously wanting it to continue forever. 

The idea of staying here for the rest of eternity was not an unpleasant one. Not in the slightest. 

Sylus’ thumb vanished from your swollen nub, replaced almost immediately by his mouth as he sucked the tender bit of flesh between his lips, and the cry that ripped from your chest was unlike any sound you had ever heard yourself make. Your spine arched clean off the mattress, your hips pressing against Sylus’ face so forcefully that you were certain you had to be suffocating him, but as you tried to writhe away from the overwhelming ecstasy, Sylus clenched your hand tight in his and held you firmly where you were. 

“Fuck– Sylus, please, please,” you babbled mindlessly, the tight, hot feeling in your lower stomach roaring to life as he teased his tongue over the small bit of flesh held firm between his soft lips. “I–I’m gonna come, fuck, I’m gonna come–” 

The euphoric rush within your body was more powerful than any Aether Core. It was dazzling. Your muscles tensed, your mouth fell open, your eyes squeezed shut, and your hips bucked harshly against Sylus’ unrelenting mouth as an orgasm unlike any you had ever experienced washed over you. The sound of your hoarse voice dimly registered in your ears as you came, and you faintly realized that you were screaming– but there was nothing in the world that could interrupt the extraterrestrial experience you were currently living through– so your voice reverberated off the walls of the room until you were wholly and truly out of breath. 

When you finally sagged back into the mattress, Sylus had eased up the intensity of his ministrations, much to his credit. His tongue made one final plunge into your wet walls to lap up the evidence of your pleasure before he pulled away entirely, and all you could do was tremble beneath him as he pushed himself up onto his knees. 

He made no move to release your hand as he crawled over you, instead lifting and pinning the joined appendages beside your head before he dipped down to passionately kiss you. Sylus growled savagely as he swallowed up your pitiful mewling, every tiny sound you made fueling something deep inside of him. Trapped under him with nowhere to go, you were entirely at his mercy as his free hand came to slip under your neck in an attempt to deepen the kiss impossibly further. Sylus forced more of his tongue into your mouth and imbued you with the taste of yourself, humming thoughtfully when he felt your nails dig into the back of his hand, at which point he pulled back to stare down at you.

“I should count myself lucky that I have no neighbors this deep in the N109 Zone. I wouldn’t be surprised if you scared Mephisto off with that scream.” 

“Screw,” you panted harshly in-between the words, “that bird.” 

His hand clenched around the nape of your neck as a wicked smile stretched across his face. “You’re actually screwing me, in case you’ve forgotten. Or is your head still somewhere above the clouds?” 

Leave it to Sylus and his smartassery bring you back down to Earth. “One of these days someone is going to cut out your mocking tongue,” you grumbled under your breath, though there was no genuine animosity in the statement. 

Sylus only laughed, his red eyes twinkling with amusement and pure male satisfaction. “If that someone is you, I think I can rest easy. You seem to like my tongue far too much for that to be a viable threat.” 

“…Touché.” 

His lips resumed their relaxed exploration of yours, bestowing a few quick pecks to the corners of your mouth before he peppered a trail of kisses along your jaw, bumping your head to the side with his own as he went. His warm breath fanned across your sweat-slick skin as he sanguinely said, “I think you’ll like the other parts of me, too.” 

On cue, you felt the hard length of him settle against your thigh as he continued to press his lips against your thundering pulse, your hand coming to grip his firm bicep as arousal buzzed through you. Not a shred of doubt existed within you as you hummed your approval, angling your head to the side to give Sylus more room to lick a broad stripe down the column of your neck. You wanted more, and you were well past the point of pretending you weren’t keenly interested in experiencing everything the leader of Onychinus had to offer. 

In an act of complete and utter depravity, Sylus began rocking his hips against your thigh to rub his cock against your heated skin as he unabashedly groaned into the crook of your neck. You felt his sharp teeth clamp down on the skin above your clavicle before he sucked lightly, laving his tongue over the little bit of flesh he managed to latch on to. The barely there sting was more pleasant than anything, and you sighed contentedly when you felt him move higher to repeat the motion on another patch of unmarred skin. 

A small, needy sound came from deep within your chest when Sylus abandoned his hold on the back of your neck to feel his way down your prone body, your eyes falling shut as you relished in his gentle fondling. You felt his fingers graze over your collarbone, then over the hardened peaks of your breasts, before settling between your legs once again. His touch against your clit was slow and testing, prompting you to lean your head back with a quiet gasp as you rocked your hips into Sylus’ hand. The movement played into Sylus’ steady rocking nicely– your pelvis elevating and sliding against his cock easily– and the low-pitched groan of approval he met you with had you smiling softly to yourself.

When Sylus pushed his finger into you again, you bit your lip at the same time he pulled his mouth off of your neck. You opened your bleary eyes to peer up at him, only to find that he was watching you with a tender sort of reverence. You flushed brightly under his flustering gaze, suddenly incredibly bashful at having him watch you so closely even though his mouth had just been ravaging your most intimate area– but despite that fact, you found yourself angling your face to the side in an attempt to hide your reactions. 

“Oh no,” Sylus uttered, a lone tendril of his Evol snaking out to turn your face back to him. “No hiding, kitten. I don’t intend on missing a single one of the pretty expressions you make.”

As though to punctuate the statement, Sylus curled his finger inside of you up– just enough that he found the spot he’d been searching for– and his efforts pulled a strangled moan from you at the same time your hips jolted against his palm. “Sylus, I– hng–” 

Your pleading was cut short by Sylus adding a second finger before he repeated the motion, taking care to slowly rub the pads of his fingers across that same spot over and over again, evidently drawing immense satisfaction in watching you wriggle and twitch under him. That damnable smirk of his showed itself once more as he pressed into the spot more insistently, his eyes devouring every inch of you as your stomach tensed and your toes curled, a telling warmth bleeding through your chest and coiling its way down between your legs. 

It seemed impossible for any one person to be so good at this. Then again, this was Sylus, and you were fairly positive finding people’s weak points was something of a speciality of his. 

The fact that your weak point was buried knuckle deep inside of you was irrelevant. 

As Sylus continued to rub little circles over your sweet spot, he lowered his head once more to work yet another dark bruise into your skin, silently filing away the mental image of your body tensing and arching beneath him for later. The sight of you alone was enough to leave him breathless, but as nice as the imagery was, what really got to him were the sweet, gorgeous sounds of your voice. Your lips parted around quivering moans, tiny gasps slipping through every now and then, and your stammering pleas filled the quiet air around him and imbued him with a newfound sense of urgency. 

Sylus had always loved the sound of your voice, but hearing what it was like when it was hitched and raspy, repeating his name like a mantra… he knew then that there was no better sound in the world. It would be all too easy for him to become addicted to it– to you. 

As your whines became more urgent, your hips practically riding his fingers as he brought you close to the edge for a second time, Sylus couldn’t help but feel a sense of male pride. He was the one pulling those noises from you. He was the one you were calling out for, the one you were trusting to take you higher, to hold you and kiss you and make you feel good. He was the one making a noisy little wreck of you and branding you like he was born to do it. 

He needed more. Sylus needed to feel you from the inside out, and the way his cock twitched in response to the thought was all the motivation he needed to withdraw his fingers from your soaked heat. 

You were positively wrecked already– gorgeously so– with your eyes glazed and unfocused, your lips parted freely around beautiful moans and brainless praises, breathless whines of Sylus’ name escaping you alongside the rattling breaths you sucked down. He almost hated that he was interrupting when he murmured, “What do you think, sweetie? Think you’re ready for me?” 

Your eyelids fluttered as your brain returned to the present moment, having completely spaced in lieu of Sylus’ never ending finger torture. Scrubbing a hand down your face, you rasped out, “F-Fuck, yeah, I’ve been ready. You’re the masochist drawing this out.” 

Sylus laughed– the sound deep and rich– before pushing himself up and sitting back on his heels, the heavy head of his cock dragging over your impossibly wet entrance as he got settled. He finally let go of your hand to maneuver you exactly where he wanted you, your knees resting on either side of him as he gripped your waist with fiendish strength. 

“It’s not masochism, sweetie,” he purred, sliding his rock hard member up and down your slit to further tease you. “I’m being attentive. There’s a difference.” 

Sylus’ idea of being ‘attentive’ bordered dangerously close to persecution, because you were hanging on by a sliver of a thread after all his prep work. You swallowed thickly and wriggled your hips against his solid manhood, aiming to drive him into action before you lost your mind entirely. “I’ve been spoiled more than enough. If you’re any more attentive, the sun will start peeking through the blinds.” 

“Would that be so bad?” Sylus pressed the blunt head of his cock against your hole, not pressing in yet, but applying enough pressure that your heart rate quickened in your chest. “If I have any say in the matter, we’ll be seeing the sunrise regardless.” 

In one quick, fluid motion, Sylus effortlessly rolled his hips forward and pressed into your fluttering walls, a throaty growl reverberating within his chest as he was overcome with your unbelievable heat. The abrupt intrusion was far from unpleasant, but it was sudden enough that your mouth fell open around loud, stuttering moans, your eyes rolling back in your head as Sylus gingerly worked more of himself into you. Your hands scrambled for purchase against the silky sheets in an effort to compose yourself, and by the time he was sheathed nearly all the way within your core, your patience had evaporated. 

The size of him was insane. You could feel every inch of him, every vein that lined his incredible length, and the way he pulsed against your walls reignited the flame of desire that burned in your blood. 

“Sylus– God– Sylus,” you wheezed, tilting your head back as you forced yourself to relax your muscles. Rocking your hips up in search of stimulation wasn’t enough, not by a long shot. You needed to get fucked through the bed. You needed Sylus to plow you like the fucking world was ending, and the visceral want that coursed through you was so strong that you wanted to cry. 

Sylus groaned your name, the combined effect of you calling for him and the feeling of your absolutely drenched cunt sucking him in deeper making his goddamn head spin. He wanted to be gentle– to let you get acclimated before he went any further– because it wasn’t egotistical for him to acknowledge that he was big compared to you. But when he felt the heel of your foot press against his lower back, silently urging him to move, his reservations dissipated into the night like vapor. He knew what you wanted, and being the thoughtful, quick learner that he was, there was nothing holding him back from giving it to you. 

“No God here, kitten.” Sylus rewarded you with a deep, grinding thrust that left you frantic with hunger. “It’s just me, and you’re being so good for me.”

Before you even had time flush with embarrassment, Sylus gripped your thigh with one of his hands and braced himself over you with the other, then pulled out nearly all the way before ramming his cock back into you. 

Your shrill voice echoed off the walls of the bedroom, and your spine rounded clear off the mattress as you half whined, half screamed in ecstasy. 

Every slam of Sylus’ hips knocked the breath out of your lungs, his powerful, cervix kissing thrusts leaving you winded as you blindly gathered a fistful of satin sheets in your trembling hands. His brutal rhythm never faltered as he pounded into you with inhuman stamina, breathing loud moans of your name while a mix of concentration and pure bliss settled over his stunning features. Lost in the throes of rapture, you could barely find the brainpower to appreciate the sight of him above you, but you sure as hell tried. 

Sylus’ muscles rippled with power as he held himself over you and pumped his hips; his abdomen undulated, his shoulders tensed, and his lower half moved in a way you could only describe as wave-like. It was too much, and yet you couldn’t get enough of it. Every time he would withdraw his cock and leave you nearly empty, another toe curling thrust would follow, the force of his hips connecting against your ass jolting you up the bed until you were bracing your hands on the headboard, pushing back against him desperately. 

Entranced by your attempts, Sylus let you move back against him for a few beats– just enough to appreciate how your ass bounced against his pale hips– until the urge to take you over again completely filled him. He groaned, low and savage, and released his hold on your thigh to slide his hand under the curve of your spine, pressing you against him hard enough that you could barely move at all. Your whimpered protest fell on deaf ears, and Sylus hauled you back down the bed to pin you under him with his upper body in an act of complete possession, and you were almost tempted to pray when you heard his animalistic growl against your ear. 

Sylus leaned his weight onto the hand braced against the mattress before fucking into you harder, faster, his long thrusts switching to deep, hammering ruts that drove the swollen head of his cock against your sweet spot so fast and so precisely that it damn near knocked you out. If you could use words at all anymore, you would have warned Sylus that you were about to come. There was no fucking way you couldn’t– not when you were so full of his cock, your throat raw from sucking him off earlier and from screaming. You were being held down and fucked like you were Sylus’ personal toy, his nails scratching at your back as his hand curled into a fist in his efforts to hold you closer to him. 

“You feel–” Sylus gritted through his teeth, the deep tenor of his voice making you clench around him impossibly further, “–so fucking incredible.” 

All you could manage was a broken stammer, “S-Sylus, I’m– I’m–” 

The soft strands of his hair brushed across your cheek as Sylus’ face loomed directly over yours, and when you blinked up at him with glassy, unfocused eyes, his one command threatened to bring tears to your eyes. 

“Don’t even think about coming.” 

Your noisy, incoherent pleas were ignored as Sylus continued to dominate you. Somehow in the midst of railing you through the bed, he moved his hand away from your back to dexterously maneuver your bent legs up, hooking them over his shoulders before bracing his weight on his forearm, and the result was catastrophic in the best possible way. Every inch of your body was vibrating, the pleasure mounting in your lower stomach driving you to abandon your hold on the sheets so you could rake your nails down Sylus’ shoulders. Fighting against the urge to finish was nigh impossible, your focus shifting to the feeling of his muscles working to fuck you as well as the enticing sound of skin slapping against skin. 

Your vision was blurring. Your legs were quaking so violently that you were surprised Sylus wasn’t shaking along with them. He laughed wickedly as he took in the sight of you beneath him, dragging his free hand down to feel around your body for something. Through the haze of it all, you didn’t realize what he was searching for until you felt his fingers on your clit, and the sound that left your mouth wasn’t one that you’d ever thought you could make. 

He wasn’t just a masochist, he was a fucking sadist. 

Your head snapped back against the bed as you wailed desolately, your begging and pleading reduced to shaky iterations of “Pleasepleaseplease” as the pain from being on edge for so long drove you to madness. Overwhelmed tears streaked down your temples, frustration and desperation and too much fucking pleasure twining together with the sharp ache of holding back. Every one of the sensations that wracked your body pooled into an immense rush of stimulation that had you moaning out a string of incomprehensible curses, until finally Sylus decided to have mercy on you. 

“Eyes on me, kitten. Show me what you look like coming on my cock.” 

He didn’t have to tell you twice. 

Sylus’ finger flicked over your now tender bundle of nerves once, twice, and then the world went white around you. You could dimly register Sylus’ gravely moans as he watched you crumble, his brows pinched with focus as he drank in the sight of your lips parting around a rattling gasp, his rough thrusting never letting up. It was so good– better than anything you had ever imagined– and your body trembled violently as Sylus’ movements became more erratic, but all you could pay any attention to was the blistering heat that flowed through your veins. 

Amidst the exultation of your release, you felt Sylus’ hand return to yours, your fingers interlacing in a contrasting act of tenderness as his thrusts became shallower, his breathing turning heavier. He committed the expression on your face to memory instantly, and it took everything in him to savor every second of your fluttering walls sucking him in deeper before he was coming too– one last powerful thrust finding its mark. Thick, hot release filled you, the added sensation bringing you higher than you thought possible, and Sylus groaned appreciatively as he ground his hips against your ass to milk every last drop into you.  

You were still catching your breath when Sylus finally stilled his movements, his haggard panting reaching you through the distant buzzing that rang in your ears. There was no way for you to know how long the two of you laid there joined from the waist down, but you knew that it took a good chunk of time before either one of you could think clearly enough to form words. Eventually, his soft hands gripped your calves to guide your legs off his shoulders and towards the mattress, the trembling limbs settling there like dead weight. 

Sylus brushed his fingers against your neck to rouse you from your post-coital state, and when you cracked open your heavy lids to peer up at him, his expression was one of relative amusement. “You alright, sweetie?” 

“Mhm.” You hummed your response, and even though your tongue felt like lead in your mouth, you managed to mumble, “I can’t feel my legs.” 

The sudden bark of laughter that burst from Sylus was something you’d never heard before, and you watched as he shook his head to himself before slowly pulling out of you. Part of you missed the feeling of him stretching you the second he was gone, but a bone deep fatigue that was much stronger than your meager feelings was winning the war of what you deemed important. Your eyelids started to slide shut of their own accord, every muscle in your body going lax as you melted into the bed. 

Sylus watched you with a measure of worship, utterly transfixed by everything about you. He gently skimmed his fingers over your stomach as he moved to settle against the pillows, taking exceptional care not to jostle you too much while he got comfortable. You didn’t seem to think similarly, however, because as soon as you felt his weight ease into the mattress, you were throwing your arm over his broad chest and hitching one of your legs over his, effectively straddling him sideways as if he were your own personal body pillow. 

He laughed softly, moving to cradle you close with one arm while his other moved to lovingly brush your hair out of your eyes. Sighing contentedly, you fixed your eyes on the record player across the room, suddenly overcome with a strange sense of fondness for the Onychinus leader. “You know,” you murmured, your voice slightly muffled against his firm chest. “You’re not what I expected, Sylus.” 

“Hm? What exactly were you expecting?” 

The cautious edge to his voice told you that he was prepared to hear the worst, but you surprised him by rolling your head to the side to plant a chaste kiss right above his heart. “It doesn’t matter. I just know that I wish more people were like you.” 

Sylus smiled, letting his head tip back against the headboard while he used his Evol to turn off the lights, plunging the room into comfortable darkness. “Careful, kitten. Keep up the flattery and I won’t take you home in the morning.” 

Your hand traced lazy shapes against his torso, and the corner of your mouth quirked up as you glanced up at him through your lashes. “I don’t work tomorrow… besides, I seem to remember you saying you’d keep me awake long enough to see the sunrise. Or were those just empty words?” 

A devilish grin stretched across his face as he took your hand in his, pulling you to the side until you were made to roll entirely on top of him so you were straddling his hips. His lower half began to rouse back to life as you settled into place in his lap, and Sylus gripped your chin between his thumb and forefinger as his lustful gaze bored into your very soul. “I was going to be nice and let you sleep, but if this is the game you want to play, then I’ll hold true to my word. Any objections?” 

Your fingers wrapped around his thick wrist as you brought your face closer to his, your eyes greedily falling to his lips. It should have worried you how addicted to him you already appeared to be, but you couldn’t find it in you to care. Sylus’ cock twitched against you as your gaze rose to meet his, a silent challenge twinkling behind your irises. 

“None at all.” 

“Then it’s a deal.” 

As the night droned on, you came to realize that these were the sorts of promises that you didn’t mind making with him, especially when the sunlight streaming through the curtains hours later conveyed that Sylus had made good on his promise. The break of day didn’t stop him though– not in the slightest. His stamina and vigor remained intact as he dutifully ravished you all through the early hours of the morning, and as you fell apart beneath him once more, the only thing you knew for certain was that it was going to be a long, long weekend.

[deadsetobsessions]

Okay, so maybe Tim has no business being in Bludhaven. Tim maintains that since his parents fail at parenting, he can do whatever he wants.

Besides, it's for a good cause. Like, not letting Tarantula get her dirty hands on his big brother in another time line. Tarantula had popped up in the Bludhaven servers - by that, Tim means the endless amounts of threads and underground fronts for criminal activity that he stalks on a regular basis- by being seen with Nightwing. Tim had immediately booked a ride to Bludhaven and bought another burner. He'd try to take care of her himself, but if worse comes to worse, he'd call Deathstroke. He's totally aware of the weird tension Deathstroke has with Nightwing and Tim's kind of banking on that.

Dick's been back in Blud for two months now, Jason having assuaged his mother hen tendencies enough for Dick to get sick of the Manor. Tim hadn't meant to follow since he had plenty of projects to work on now that "SAVE JASON" wasn't blaring at the top of his head.

But then Tarantula appeared and Tim saw red, remembering the way Dick spoke about her and what she did to him.

He bids the driver goodbye. The driver doesn't question his being on his lonesome mainly because 1) Gothamites mind their own busines, 2) Tim gave him a $500 tip to make sure he remains a "good" Gothamite cabbie, and 3) Tim made sure he was dropped off in the swankiest, most ostentatious hotel Bludhaven had to offer.

"Rich people," the cab driver had muttered as Tim closed the door. Perfect.

Tim got his keycard, having checked in under Alvin Draper over the phone. Normally, they'd require an in person visit, but money talks. And people listened when Tim had a lot of things to say.

Tim even feels like he's trained enough to go out! Lady Shiva's training was ingrained into his memory, and Tim's built enough muscle to make use of some of it. He is still nine, after all. He's so much stealthier this time around. Plus, he's got almost his full tool set back. Sure, some of the tech is ancient, but he managed to finagle it to make grappling guns and smoke pellets more along the quality that he's used to.

Tim waits until nightfall, looping the surveillance around his window to mask his exit. Tim adjusts his domino, eyes scanning the city skyline as his handheld computer (god, he can't believe he has to invent wrist computers) tracked reports of Nightwing through Tweetings.

Ah. He's around Seventh. Tim grimaces as his untested joints adjusts to the grappling guns. His dark clothes make him hard to spot, to his advantage as he tracks down Nightwing.

Tim watches, perched on an adjacent roof as Nightwing takes down a crowd of goons with the flips Tim remembered watching from afar and up close in another timeline.

"Blockbuster'll kill everyone you love, Nightwing!"

Tim winces at the rather brutal crunch that followed, Nightwing having punched the guy and knocked him out in one move. He watches Dick sigh, tugging at his hair in stress.

Tim could... no, no. He shouldn't think of murder as a first option. Well, no, he shouldn't think of Deathstroke as a first option. But he'll need to take Blockbuster out before anything happens. And he needs to threaten the new Tarantula before anything happens. He won't allow her to even get close to Dick.

Maybe it's unfair to punish her for a crime she hasn't done, but unlike murder, rape can never be defended. Catalina Flores is a dead woman walking.

Tim stalks his big brother back home and then broke off to begin his short reign of terror over Bludhaven's underground. If he can't get Dick to take a break (and Tim's tried, a lot, over the years) then he'll make sure that the next month is as gentle as possible on his older brother.

Step 1. Murder Take care of Blockbuster

Step 2. Threaten Catalina Flores and her brother.

No. Wait. Tim has a better idea. He's got dirt on them, on top of the murder thing. He'll fabricate Catalina's tax returns, embezzle a shit ton of money from the IRS, and get her and her corrupt brother (because getting your sister out from murder charges is considered corrupt) arrested and locked away. And he'll make sure they stay locked away with some good old blackmail on Amanda Waller.

Tim grins, tranquilizing the building with an ungodly amount of knock out gas pellets, to riffle through the police precinct's files.

Step 2. Threaten Catalina Flores and her brother.

Step 2. Cripple Catalina Flores and her brother with blackmail and the IRS.

In three hours, Tim has everything he needs to begin a temporary hostile takeover. He's got the names of local mob bosses, the big players, and the names of practically every police officer that takes bribes and their... sponsors.

He'll have to cut off Blockbuster's lines of supplies first. Then, blacklist him from local suppliers, mobilize the police precinct against him (by imitating his M.O. perfectly- Tim's not a fucking amateur- and pretending to rob the precinct blind), and then break his knees.

Step 3. Profit

Tim takes out his shiny new burner phone, enjoying the loud sounds of the police squawking through his planted bugs. He lounges on the building next to it, keeping an eye out for Nightwing just in case the man decides to respond to the crisis.

[Unknown: It's RR.]

[Deathstroke: New phone?]

[RR: Who dis?]

[Deathstroke: What?]

[RR: Nevermind. I'll give you forty thousand to shoot someone's knees out.]

[Deathstroke:... That's it? Who?]

[RR: Blockbuster. Bludhaven. Extra twenty thousand if you tell him he's got the spine of a sea slug, kick him in the balls, and post it on Tweeting.]

[Deathstroke: What did he do to you? Deal.]

Tim ignored Deathstroke's question.

[RR: Half sent. Confirm?]

[Deathstroke: Confirmed. Timeline?]

[RR: Three weeks. 21 days.]

[Deathstroke: Confirmed.]

----

Tim grins ferally, all teeth as Catalina Flores looked on in horror at her computer screen.

"Get out of Bludhaven, and don't come back. If you even think of going near Nightwing, I will rip what's left of your pathetic, sniveling swine of a brother apart. You will not enjoy the consequences."

Tim clicks off, watching Catalina and her brother launch themselves into mad packing. He tapped out a short message to Amanda Waller for her and her team to intercept them at the state lines. They'll never get away from Tim's fury. Never.

[Waller: It's done.]

[Waller: I will find you.]

[RR: You can definitely try, Waller. Good doing business with you.]

Tim can see the blood vessel the woman popped after he sent that last message. He laughs.

He saves Deathstroke's video from Tweeting onto his actual, spoofed phone. He destroys the burner phone, less shiny now that he's dragged it through two and a half weeks of breaking heads and terrorizing the Bludhaven Underground. Nightwing hadn't even gotten a whiff of his activities, this Dick being far less experienced and known in this version of Blud.

One more week and Tim can continue his other projects.

----

Nightwing, going about his vigilante business: wow it sure is peaceful

Feral Tim Drake, Nightwing's scary dog privilege: try me, bitch

[gingernut1314]

Sack of Potatoes ch. 3

Summary: You messed with the wrong gang and just as you think you've lost, a familiar face comes to your rescue.

Content: female reader, gendered terms, pre-season 1 arcane, introduction to Vander, Canon typical violence (description of being jumped), young Silco, young Vander, young reader, the boys come to your rescue, slight Arcane season 2/League of Legends spoiler (Janna)

Word Count: 2.9K

A/N: Okay, so I've kind very loosely planed things out and there is only going to be one more chapter as them as teens and then we are officially aging up! I hope you all enjoy!!

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You had royally fuck up. 

More so than usual, which was saying something because you had a tendency to fuck up on a daily basis. But today, gods, today you’d pissed off the wrong gang of Undercitians. A group known to put fourteen-year-olds six feet under for fun. 

What had you done, exactly? Well, this gaggle of idiots tended to take trophies from whoever they terrorized, and one item in particular had caught your eye instantly. 

In lack of better words, it was pretty and shiny and you wanted it. 

And it had been too easy to steal it off them. Some would say they deserved to have had it stolen just for that fact alone. 

You cut sharply down a crowded road, pushing and shoving people out of your way. The gang was too close for your liking. You could clearly make out every curse and insult they threw your way. 

If you could just get to the docks, you could take them head-on without fear, but you were in the heart of the city and nowhere near the docks. 

Just as you made to push out of the crowd and run into any building you could get into, a pair of hands grabbed you around the waist. You screamed, but a hand was shoved over your mouth before you could really get a strong bellow out. 

“Thought you could get away, you fucking cunt.” The guy who’d grabbed you hissed gleefully. 

You were dead. Oh gods you were so dead. 

“I caught our little fishy!” He shouted, his gang throwing up wicked laughs as he dragged you away. You wriggled and thrashed and kicked about, trying desperately to get away, but it was no use. He was stronger than you by a mile. 

You were going to endure a slow, truly horrible death all because you’d wanted something shiny. Because your greed had gotten the best of you. 

Weak! Pathetic!

If only you had listened to Janna. If only you stayed put when she told you to stay put. Of only you had stayed in the dunk little cave you called home and practiced your magic like she said.

Stupid. So, so stupid. 

You were dragged down a dark alley and thrown roughly to the ground. The skin on your hands and knees split, but you pushed the pain down and got up as fast you could muster.  

Get away. 

You needed to get away-- 

“Where do you think you're going little fishy?” You screamed as another pair of hands grabbed you, Before you could even throw a punch, you were shoved into one of the brick walls of the alley, nose giving a blood-curdling crunch. The pain made it so you could only give a pathetic whimper. 

If there was anything you hated more than enforcers or fancy Piltover pansies or gaggles of foul-smelling boys, it was breaking your nose.

More hands grabbed you, tossing you against the wall, to the ground, and into more awaiting hands. Hands that grabbed at you shirt and hair. Everything was happening so fast. Too fast for you to get a hold of yourself and fight back. 

Weak!

There was no hope of being rescued, you knew that. 

In The Lanes, it was kill or get killed. Fend for yourself and expect nothing from anyone. 

And Janna was nowhere near the city right now, her winds having been called back to the sea for some reason unknown to you.

It was over--your life. Over when it had only truly just begun. 

“Giving up so quickly, fishy?” One of the cruel boys teased, grabbing a fist full of hair and pulling you to your feet. A small, sad sound escaped your lips. “We’re not done playing yet.” The guy, who was as butt ugly as you could get, got right up in your face. His yellow teeth were on display for your eyes and yours eyes only. His breath was so vulgar it nearly made you puke. 

“I think,” You gasped out, “you need a breath mint.” 

Rotting teeth did not like that. 

The guy dealt a swift punch to your temple, your knees nearly giving out from under you but you fought too damn hard to keep yourself up.

Gods , your vision was getting spotty. You tried to blink the blackness away, but it only made it worse. 

“You little whore. You’re gonna--” 

“That’s not a very kind thing to say to a lady.” A voice spoke from behind you and the gang. 

It was a voice you’d heard before…but your mind was too foggy to truly pinpoint it. 

“Don’t you know not to stick your nose in our fucking business?” One of the gang memebers hissed. 

“If you can call beating a kid to death business.” The voice said something else but your hearing was faded in and out. 

Child?

You were not a child. 

Suddenly, you were thrown to the ground, pain flaring in your elbow as more skin was ripped open. If you made it out of this, you were going to be in pain for days.  

And to top your horrid day off, you landed in something wet. Something you prayed to any god listening was just street water and not piss. 

Shouting filled your ears, but faded out in seconds. 

Shit, that couldn’t be good. 

The screaming and your hearing loss. 

Get up, get up! Your fogging mind screamed at you. It was the only thing you could hear anymore, so you were inclined to listen. 

With gritted teeth, you struggled to get to your hands and knees, your open wounds screaming almost as loudly as your brain was. Before you could shove to your feet, a pair of hands grabbed you under your armpits, trying to get you up.

No, no, no! Not again! They’ll kill you!

And you found you really, really didn’t want to die. 

You clenched your fist and swung without a second thought. 

Knuckles collided with someone's jaw. 

Pain flared in your fingers brightly. 

You’d fucking broken them --gods damn it!

The person, a man by the sound of it, gave a grunt, his grip on you loosening. You ignored the new pain in your hand and wiggled out of your captor’s grip, falling back to the ground in the process. 

Someone was saying something, but you couldn’t make it out past the pounding of your heart and buzzing of your ears.

Your vision slowly started to fill with color again just as another pair of hands placed themselves on your shoulder. 

“--ts me! It’s me, remember?” 

That voice. You knew that voice. You liked that voice.

And that voice was calling your name. You didn’t just give your name out to anyone and the only person you had given it to in the past few months was…

You blinked rapidly, turning to look at the boy who was calling your name. 

Long, dark hair attached to a thin, sharp face. A face that bore two blue-green eyes.

Seafoam eyes.

“Silco?” Your voice came out cracky and hoarse from all the screaming you’d done. The boy nodded, thin lips set in a frown. 

“Yes.” You looked back towards the alley you’d been dragged into, finding bodies sprawled out down the tiny space. Some of the bodies looked like they’d been beaten to hell and have one hell of a headache when they woke up. But the other bodies--they didn’t move or breathe and sat in pools of red. 

What the hell…had--had Silco done that? 

Why?  

Why the hell was he here? 

Better yet, why the hell would he risk his life to save yours? 

Your heart gave a painful twist in your chest. 

What if he was here to finish you off? 

You pulled yourself out of Silco’s grip, all but throwing yourself at the closest brick wall. All your wounds screamed at you to stop, be you had to keep moving. 

“What are you doing?” Silco asked, seemingly unamused. You hissed through your teeth and pulled your feet under you, using the wall as support. “You’re just going to hurt yourself further.” 

“What the fuck does it matter to you?” You snapped, taking Silco in again. He had stood back to his full height, a smirk on his thin face. 

He found this funny. 

“You’d think she’d be more appreciative, seeing as we saved her life.” He spoke, but he wasn’t talking to you. No, what you had failed to take in was the other guy standing in the alley with Silco, rubbing his jaw. A tall, hulking guy who could no doubt squeeze the life out of you with little to no effort.  

“Throws a mean punch, I’ll give her that.” The gigantic man’s his voice was warmer than that of Silco’s. Not that Silco’s voice wasn’t nice. You much preferred it over this stranger’s. 

“Who the fuck is that?” Silco ran a hand through his longer hair, casting a glance toward the other guy. 

“I’m Vander. A friend.” The other guy spoke, seeming to try and come off as unintimidating as he could. It was working, but only a bit. Like--a hair’s width bit. 

“Why were those halfwits after you, anyhow?” Silco asked, changing the subject off his friend quickly. You sniffed sharply, your nose so clogged with blood it was a struggle to breathe. 

You’d have to fix that quickly before it healed crooked. 

You reached into your jacket pocket, pulling the golden flask you’d stolen out. Silco caught it with ease when you tossed it his way, though his eyes widened like it might explode.

You nearly laughed, remembering the last time he saw you throw a flask. A flask that had exploded. 

“They stole that off some rich guy from Piltover. I thought it was an okay replacement for the one I broke.” 

“Wait--this is the girl that chipped your teeth?” Vander gave a deep laugh that lifted your spirits near instantly. You looked back to Silco whose lips were purposely glued shut, his arms crossed. He was the embodiment of annoyance.

“You’re kidding?” 

“Made a V shape and everything.” You all but slapped a hand over your mouth, a small laugh escaping your lips. 

“Need I remind you I just saved your ass.” Silco seethed, giving you a direct look at his front teeth. 

They were chipped, alright. In that same V shape Vander had said. 

You let out a chest-rumbling laugh you couldn’t have helped stop even if you had wanted to. A laugh that had most, if not all, of your wounds barking at you again. Vander joined in with a bellowing laugh right alongside you. 

“Holy shit! Oh gods, that’s horrible.” You spoke, trying to stifle your laugher. Silco’s face flushed red and his eyes narrowed. He was pissed now. “I guess I owe you more than some fancy flask, huh?” 

“Oh, you owe me for more than my teeth. I just saved your life.” Vander walked over then, slapping Silco on the shoulder. 

“Come on, brother, don’t be like that. We’re just having a little fun.” Silco gruffed, shrugging Vander’s hand off his shoulder sharply. 

“Well, I don’t share in your amusement.” 

“I know, I know,” A bright smile pulled to his lips, “How about we get a look at you, yeah?” He asked, turning his attention back on you. 

Your heart twisted in your chest again and you tried to stand straight. Tried to look like you weren’t some weak, pathetic little creature.

He isn’t going to hurt you. He just helped save your life for god's sake! But as Vander got closer, you couldn’t ignore the fear that burst from your chest. 

“Thank you, really, but I can manage on my own,” You stumbled out a bit too quickly, trying to push off the wall to walk away. Your knees nearly gave out again and you fell back to the wall with a frustrated hiss. 

“You can hardly stand on your own. My father owns The Last Drop, just over there. We’ll get you patched up and you can be on your way.” You cut a look over to Silco who was still sulking behind Vander. When he noticed you looking his way, his eyes narrowed in that calculating, all-seeing way they had when you’d first met him.

“Vander, you’re scaring the kid.” He briskly made his way over to you.

“I’m not a kid.” You hissed as Silco came to a stop before you. 

“I feel as though we’ve already done this.” He extended his hand for you to take. You eyed it, then Vander, who smiled your way, before your gaze landed back on Silco. His eyes hadn't left you. Not even once .

“Nothing is going to happen to you. Not with us around. Promise.” Silco softly said. 

It shocked you, his tone. Though you didn’t know him in the least, you could tell just by the look on Vander's face this wasn’t a regular occurrence. 

But what did that mean? Was it something to worry about?

You pushed your thoughts down as your pain began to bubble up once more. You really needed to sit down and these two didn’t seem horrible . 

Hesitantly, you reached out your unhurt hand. 

Silco was quick to change his position to accommodate this, taking your hand up in his steady one. He gave a kind nod, pulling your arm over his shoulder and wrapping his other around your waist.

Damn-- he may be built like a sting bean but there was muscle under those clothes of his. Muscles you could feel work as they helped you along. 

Your nose took another clogged inhale of breath and you felt your heart untwist and flutter against your ribs. 

It was very hard for anyone in The Lanes to smell good, thanks to the overall nasty atmosphere. It was very rare to come across anyone who didn’t smell like the polluted air they all lived in, but Silco-- Gods he smelled good. Fresh. Like he’d been able to take a shower recently.

It almost had you forgetting about all your aches and burning pains until he started all but pulling you back down the alley. 

“OW! Fuck ! You could try to be gentle .” You whined, grabbing a fistful of his jacket and tugging like he might stop him.

“Oh, would you stop your complaining?” Silco huffed. “This is me being gentle.”

“I’m a complainer . I complain.” You huffed right back at him. 

“I can tell.” Silco was quick to shoot back. A quick response that stirred a sort of-- excitement in your chest. There were very few people who didn’t find your ability to go on and on annoying. Very few that did this sort of--back-and-forth. A back-and-forth Silco was and had engaged with you. 

You wondered for a moment if he was annoyed. If he would tell you to shut up and drop you right back into the bloody alley and leave you there.

“Maybe I wouldn’t have to complain if you weren’t dragging me along like I was a sack of potatoes.” You continued.

“Might as well be a sack of potatoes.” 

“I have dense bones.” 

“I can tell.” You have a mockingly offended gasp.

“I’ll have you know my dense bones are a veryyy sensitive topic to me.” Silco gave a scoff that sounded more like a stifled chuckle. 

“Wasn’t it you who compared yourself to a sack of potatoes?” 

“I don’t remember that.” Silco shook his head in that same held-back amusement. “I bet your bones are brittle. Like a strong wind would knock you right over.” 

“I’ll have you know my brittle bones are a very sensitive topic to me.” You pressed your lips together tightly, trying your hardest not to let the laughter bubbling in your chest out. But the longer you held it in, the more it leaked out in sharp pfftted spurts. 

“O-oh yeah?”

“Oh yes.” Silco continued, a glimmer in his eyes that made it all the more difficult to not burst into laughter. “Ever since I was a child people would point out my brittle bones. And here you are now, doing the same.” He gave a mocking forlorned shake of his head. “After I just saved your life as well.”

“I didn’t need saving.” 

“Oh really?” You nodded matter-of-factly.

“Really. I was this close to getting the upper hand.” You showed just how close with your hurt fingers, wincing at the pain that shot through your hand at the movement. “You ruined my plans.” 

“Well forgive me. Shall I stop carrying you too?” 

“If my dense bones are a hindrance then be my guest. I can walk on my own.” 

“I doubt that.” 

“I can . Be better than getting dragged around so brutishly.” Laugher filled your ears. Not Silco’s laughter which you were so close to hearing again, but a deep, bellowing laugh. You turned your head just as Silco did to find Vander there. You’d almost forgotten all about the hulking man. 

“What’s so funny?” Silco shot his way. Vander merely held his hands up as if to ward off his friend. 

“Oh nothin’, nothin’.” Vander gave Silco a look you couldn’t quickly figure out. A look that had Silco’s cheek grow a bit of a pinkish hue.

You were once more annoyed at your inability to fully grasp all emotions and silently cursed Janna and her near-robotic ways. 

You watched Silco grit his teeth Vander’s way, that pink hue only deepening when he glanced your way and found you watching him closely.

You liked that color on him. You liked it very much.

Previous | Next

[otakusheep15]

Flufftober Day 31: Proposal - Scarabia and Ignihyde

Characters include: Kalim Al-Asim, Jamil Viper, Idia Shroud (+ bonus platonic Ortho Shroud)

Word count: 1744

Kalim

Who proposes: Kalim

Kalim is very vocal about his opinions, and that includes his opinions on marriage. Ever since he was little, he was so excited at the idea of being married one day. The idea of finding true love and being intertwined with them for the rest of his life is something he’s fantasized about regularly. 

So when he found you, he knew his dreams would come true. You were everything he ever fantasized about and more, and he fell in love the moment he laid eyes on you.

From that very second, he began courting you, practically asking you out every day. At first you thought he was just playing around. Who would just ask someone out that much while barely even knowing them? Kalim. Kalim would.

Soon enough, you realize that he is, in fact, not joking, and you agree to go out with him. He’s absolutely ecstatic, and you’ve been happily together since.

Now, he’s planning to propose. Kalim is not very subtle about his plans, but it’s not like he’s trying to be. He’s very open about wanting to marry you. Pretty much everyone around him knows he wants to, and they’re more so confused about why he hasn’t already.

The truth is that he just wants everything to be perfect. Despite what others may think, Kalim is a bit of a perfectionist. He likes everything to be absolutely perfect at all times, a slight symptom of his people-pleasing tendencies. Proposing is a big deal, and if it’s not perfect, he’s a bit worried you might say no.

Part of this perfection is having the perfect ring. Kalim has one specially made for you, wanting it to be one-of-a-kind. It’s an amazing ring made with the care of the best craftsman he could find. Naturally, money was no issue, and he was absolutely willing to spend whatever he needed to ensure top quality.

Once the ring is finished, Kalim sets up the perfect date with so many things planned. He figures that, the more he has to do, the less he’ll be able to worry. Not that he has any reason to worry of course. You’re going to say yes. Everyone knows that!

The day comes, and Kalim wakes you up early to begin your activities. You spend your time going all over the city, going to restaurants and visiting the market. It’s all so much, and eventually you begin to feel exhausted. 

Kalim notices your obvious fatigue, and he immediately knows why you’re so tired. Instead of attending your next planned event, Kalim takes you to a quiet space away from the crowds so you can relax. Kalim feels terrible. He did so much to ensure today would be perfect, but he ruined it in all of his planning. 

After resting for a moment, you turn to him, gently holding his hand. You assure him that it’s not his fault. He just wanted you to have a good day, and you are. You’re having such an amazing day because you’re with your boyfriend, and you already know what he has planned. 

That makes Kalim perk up a bit, and in a moment of impulse, he kneels down and presents the ring. This is not at all where he imagined he would be proposing, but he couldn’t think of a better time. 

You smile, happily saying yes. He slips the ring onto your finger, leaning up to kiss you. You return it gladly, and when you pull away, you see nothing but pure love in his gaze. 

Your wedding is certainly an event. Kalim went all out with the planning, and considering his practically unlimited budget, he’s able to pull it off. The guest list is basically every single person he knows, which means there are so, so, so many people. You thought it would be overwhelming, but you had Kalim by your side the entire time, and that made it better.

Jamil

Who proposed: you

Jamil never once thought he would have something as special as a partner, let alone a spouse. Marriage seemed like such a foreign concept for him, especially one that was truly happy and not just for convenience.

Then you came into his life, and it seemed like maybe that concept wasn’t so foreign anymore. Suddenly, he was happy with a person who actually improves his life. 

Still, marriage seemed like something he was never meant to have. He’s nothing but a servant, not someone meant to have a fulfilling life. In his mind, you would be better off with someone who can give you the life you deserve. 

Somehow, despite what he’s told you so many times, you actually stick with him. Throughout all of his suffering and strife, you’re next to him, ready to show him that life isn’t all bad all the time. Not once have you ever considered leaving him, and you intend to stay with him as long as he’ll keep you.

That’s why you decided to propose. You know that Jamil will never propose on his own, still too worried about tying you down. Despite your constant affirmations, he still doesn’t fully believe you, so you have to prove it to him once and for all. You have to prove to him that you want only him, and you fully plan on sticking by him.

You don’t need anything fancy or over-the-top. Jamil wouldn’t want anything super flashy, especially for something like this. You’re able to find a nice ring that you think would suit him well. 

Your proposal is also very lowkey. It happens in the comfort of your own home. You and Jamil are lying in bed, and you debate doing it right now. The ring is in the drawer of your nightstand, and you can’t help but want to just do it.

Then, Jamil moves closer to you, wrapping his arms around you to cuddle, and your heart swells with so many feelings, and you can’t take it anymore. 

You ask for him to let you go for a second so you can grab something, and he does, watching as you reach into the drawer. He catches sight of the box and nearly faints right there. He must be seeing things. No way is that what he thinks it is.

He is quickly proven to be correct when you show him the box, opening it up with a shy smile. Inside sits the ring, and he stares at it as his brain processes what is happening. All his life, Jamil has been convinced he would never feel such happiness, and yet you continuously prove him wrong. He says yes, and you put the ring in his finger.

Your wedding is much smaller than initially planned. Kalim wanted to throw a huge wedding to celebrate, but Jamil immediately shot that down. He wanted something simple, with only a few important guests and nothing overly fancy. For Jamil, it’s less about the extravagance of it all and more about just being with you. 

Idia

Who proposes: you

Idia had no intention of ever dating, let alone get married. The thought was just not appealing to him at all. He had his 2-D characters and that’s all he needed. 

Unfortunately for him, you came barreling into his life and just completely wrecked all of his life plans. And, even more unfortunate, he’s not complaining in the slightest.

Dating was a bit of a challenge for Idia. He had to get past a lot of his insecurities in order to even admit he had a crush on you. Luckily, as time went on, he got more and more comfortable with you, and it became easier to just exist in your relationship.

Then the idea of marriage came up. It was actually Ortho who brought it up initially. According to him, you and Idia have been dating for a while, and this is usually the point at which most humans begin considering marriage.

You know Ortho didn’t mean anything by it, but poor Idia nearly had a heart attack at the mere mention of such a big step in your relationship. It’s not that he doesn’t want to get married, it’s just the thought of going through the whole ordeal of a proposal freaks him out. He’s seen so many videos of proposals going horribly wrong, and he’s afraid of embarrassing himself and you rejecting him.

You know about these anxieties of his, and you understand where they’re coming from. However, you want to marry him so badly, so you decided to take matters into your own hands. 

A ring has already been picked out. You knew he would love it considering Ortho helped you pick it out. It wasn’t anything too flashy, and it was perfectly him. Now all you have to do is actually propose to him.

Naturally, it happens in the comfort of your bedroom. You want him to be as comfortable as possible. The ring is in your pocket, and as you watch Idia game, you find yourself fidgeting with it. He wins the game he was playing, and he looks up at you with a smile.

Suddenly, it feels much too difficult to hold off any longer. While you have his attention, you ask him if you can talk for a second. His face immediately shifts to one of panic, and you quickly reassure him that it’s nothing bad, and he relaxes a bit.

You give him a whole speech, telling him how much you adore him and that he’s your entire world. Your speech ends with you pulling out the box, showing it to him. He nearly faints at the sight, but he manages to hold on as you open it, revealing the ring. You ask him to marry you, and he visibly blue screens.

Anyone else would see this as a bad sign, but you know it’s just him processing. Once he comes to, his hair and face both erupt with pink, and he stammers out a yes. You take his hand gently and slip the ring on his finger before kissing his knuckles. He shakily smiles back, still nervous but obviously happy. 

Your wedding is not a wedding at all. Idia straight up refused to have any kind of ceremony. You two literally popped into a courthouse, signed some papers, and were officially married. Ortho did come with you because he was just excited that Idia was getting married at all.

[bywonyo]

WE CAN’T BE FRIENDS ( PART TWO )

-> part one

IN WHICH..

As you erase your memories of Sunghoon out of anger, a sense of regret slowly creeps in during the procedure. Despite your initial determination, doubts begin to surface about whether this is the right decision. As you make your way to his apartment, uncertainty gnaws at you. How will Sunghoon react when he sees you? Will he be surprised, angry, or confused? The thought of facing him fills you with anxiety, but deep down, you know you have to see him—one last time.

PAIRING & CATEGORIES

ex husband! Sunghoon x gn reader, second chance, divorced to lovers, angst?, fluff

CAUTION

force, kissing, skinship, crying, NOT proofread

STAR’S DIARY

I wrote this at midnight

TAGLIST

@cholexc @yyawnjun @rosas-in-the-garden @allforhee @ilovejungwonandhaechan @ifuckedheeseung @jooniesbears-blog @niki-the-genius @lilyuwon @ihrtnrk @kgneptun

HEADPHONES PLAYING..

we can’t be friends by ariana grande, ordinary things by ariana grande

“N-NO!” you sobbing and screaming while your tears stream down your eyes continually.

You were aware that you would eventually feel remorse for your actions. Your tendency to prioritize your trivial emotions over logic was a recurring pattern. The memories held great significance for you, each one cherished and irreplaceable. The thought of losing them all was unbearable, weighing heavily on your conscience

You couldn’t do it. It was a bad idea but even though you didn’t get your happy ending, you at least had a sweet story. Sunghoon made you the happiest you’ve ever been.

So you did it, you swiftly made your escape from the operation room and raced towards the familiar surroundings of you and Sunghoon's former apartment. The adrenaline fueled sprint through the city streets was exhilarating as you navigated through the bustling crowds, determined to reach your destination.

Memories flooded back as you approached the building, each step bringing you closer to the safety of your shared home. The sense of urgency pushed you forward, the need to escape and find solace in the comfort of familiar surroundings overwhelming. Finally, you reached the door, taking a deep breath before ringing the doorbell.

As you stood there waiting, time seemed to drag on endlessly. The feeling of impatience grew within you, making you question whether it was worth it to keep waiting.

Doubt crept into your mind, whispering that perhaps it was time to give up and walk away. But just as you were about to surrender to the frustration, a glimmer of hope appeared. The door finally creaked open, flooding your body with nervousness.

As you gazed upon the familiar figure of Sunghoon, memories from years past flooded your mind, causing tears to well up in your eyes. Sunghoon's own eyes widened in recognition, his lips parting in surprise as he took in the sight of you. The passage of time seemed to melt away as you both stood there, sharing a moment of silent understanding. It was a bittersweet reunion, filled with a mix of joy and sorrow at how much had changed.

As the silence lingers, a wave of embarrassment washes over you. His blank expression and lack of recognition leave you feeling small and insignificant. It's as though you never even crossed his mind, as if your presence in his life was completely forgettable. The weight of this realization settles heavily on your shoulders, causing a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach.

“I- i’m sorry! You don’t even know me..” but as you were about to run away, you felt a warm hand gripping your wrist.

As you stood there, lost in your thoughts, a sudden warmth enveloped you. It was an embrace so comforting, so reassuring, that all your worries seemed to melt away. Sunghoon's arms wrapped around you, holding you close as if promising to never let go.

His touch was like a gentle caress, soothing and tender, filling you with a sense of security and love. In that moment, everything else faded away, and you were left with the simple, pure joy of being held in his arms. It was a moment of pure bliss, a moment you wished would never end.

“Sunghoon..?”

“How do you even remember me..”

Finally, Sunghoon turned his gaze towards you, tears shimmering in his eyes. A faint blush rose to his cheeks as he nervously scratched his neck, a clear sign of his embarrassment. It was evident that he was struggling to find the right words to speak, his emotions overwhelming him. Despite his attempt to compose himself, his vulnerability was palpable.

The weight of his unspoken words hung heavy in the air, the silence between you both speaking volumes. And in that moment, you couldn't help but feel a surge of empathy towards him, as you awaited his hesitant words with bated breath.

“I coudn’t do it..”

“I-i tried to but I just..”

Before he could continue speaking, you leaned in and pressed your lips against his. The unexpected kiss caught him off guard, causing his words to fade away into a jumble of thoughts. His heart raced as he felt the warmth of your lips against his, a rush of emotions flooding through him. Time seemed to stand still in that moment as you shared a passionate connection.

The intensity of the kiss left him speechless, his mind reeling with confusion and desire. And in that instant, everything else faded away as he focused solely on the feeling of your lips on his.

As all the memories flooded through both of your minds, drawing you closer together, Sunghoon gently lifted you up. The rush of nostalgia washed over you, intertwining your hearts and souls in a moment of pure connection.

With each passing memory, the bond between you grew stronger, solidifying the unbreakable link you shared. Sunghoon's touch was tender yet firm, conveying a sense of protection and love. In that moment, you felt truly seen and understood, as if every memory was a thread weaving you both closer together. And in Sunghoon's arms, you knew you were home.

As the kiss broke, Sunghoon's breath hitched in his chest, his eyes filled with a mixture of desire and worry as he gazed at you. The intensity of the moment lingered in the air, a silent exchange of emotions passing between you both. His gaze was filled with longing, his lips slightly parted as if yearning for more. But beneath the desire, there was also a hint of concern, a worry that perhaps he had crossed a line or that things were moving too fast.

“C-can we try again..?”

“Yes, dork.”

With a grin of relief, Sunghoon leaned in and kissed you once more before scooping you up in his arms and carrying you into his apartment. The warmth of his touch and the joy in his eyes filled you with a sense of contentment.

As he gently set you down, you couldn't help but feel overwhelmed by the rush of emotions that flooded through you. The closeness between you two was undeniable, and in that moment, you knew that you were exactly where you were meant to be. Sunghoon's kiss was a promise of love and happiness that you eagerly embraced.

At last, you guess you can say that you two finally got your happy endings..

[jojomiwbvb6]

The Shower Scene, Part 3

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 4

Warnings: this is a work of fiction. smut (18+) MDNI, NSFW. Sexting, Sexual Tendencies, Swearing, Degradation, Brat Taming

Author's Note: bet your ass I'm destroying you all. Links coming soon. Part 4 will be "cumming" soon.

--

You sat backstage with your head against the wall. Another workday, another city. You were left in the dim light, alone with your thoughts and the screaming of the crowd and the loud thrums of guitar through the heavy speakers.

Only the thoughts of yours and Noah's secret situation would return to your mind.

You haven't been able to hide the straining tension and the absolute cravings for him you have in the dark.

Noah noticed you eyeballing him one day on the bus. You quickly looked away, but the damage had been done. Every time you turned around, Noah took advantage of teasing and taunting you from as far away as possible.

He would give you the hottest glares, then turn away with a completely different expression as soon as he did. He'd smirk at you and bite his lip, turning his head to smolder you.

When no one was looking, he winked at you and curled his fingers in the air. When Jolly looked towards him, he changed his expression and quickly dropped his hands.

You were so sick and crazy over it but you tried to hide it.

A week or two went by, only a few little chances to interact with Noah completely went by with no opportunity to touch or even get a secret word in. You hadn't had a moment alone with him at all.

Ever since that night in the bathroom on the bus, you ached to know just what he'd do if you teased him again. He was teasing you with his glares and gestures. Noah knew exactly how he was making you feel, and you knew it.

The next tour week was coming up, with one day off in Atlanta, Georgia. But that off day was 5 days away-- a wait you weren't sure you could handle, if Noah even decided to spend it with you.

"Hey, (Y/N). You good out here? Why are you by yourself?" Bryan peaked out at you from the stage entry.

"Oh, just enjoying a moment of peace before the chaos." You shrug.

"Alright. Just making sure everything's cool," he softly smiled and returned to the side stage, resuming collecting pictures.

--

In your bunk that night, you lie awake, staring at the ceiling not so far from your face. You scroll through your phone, noticing a snap from a few people, Noah being one, sent a half hour ago.

Biting your lip with excitement, you wonder what it is. You open the Snapchat.

Noah laying in his bunk, furrowing his eyebrows and squinting at the camera. The picture looks so normal, yet so delicious. Every time he made that face, it flipped a switch in you. You weren't sure if the picture was only for you. Still, your eyes devoured the photo.

You looked away at the ceiling again, closing the snap. An idea pops into your head, filthy and obscene. Should you? You weren't sure, but you knew that it would get the reaction you craved so desperately.

You can't help but smirk and your stomach flips. Convinced of your plan, you get up quietly from your bunk, pads of your feet hitting the cold bus floor.

You walk out of the bunk area and to the same bathroom Noah had you panting and soaked to the bone several nights previously. As the door shuts behind you, you rest against the door and breathe deeply, anxious at what you're about to do.

You look at yourself in the mirror, fixing your hair. You bite your lip, testing how you look.

Deciding you are ready, you slip out of your top and the bralette you wore. You caressed your breasts and teased your nipples until they were taut and pointed. Pulling up your phone's camera, you snapped a few different pictures.

Excitement pulsed through you, ready to throw Noah through a struggle until the end of the week.

Pulling down your pajama pants, you angle the camera at just the right angle to make your ass look fat and juicy, just to make Noah want to take a bite of you.

At every thought of what Noah was going to get to see, your panties are wet and you're aching. Just because of this, you turn around and angle the camera at your covered pussy, throwing your hand on your thigh. Snap, picture.

Taking your underwear off, you take a shot from the back and from the front. And another of your whole naked body.

You get dressed again, and return to your bunk quietly.

Looking through the pictures, excitement rolls through you. You sort through them, deleting ones you don't like and picking from the ones you do.

As you're looking, you decide on the least hot one, of your tits. A slow burn, you decide.

You move to the chat box on Snapchat with Noah. You didn't think he'd be awake. Opening your gallery and clicking on that one photo, your stomach flips and you press send.

Your eyes close and you pass out, bus rocking you to sleep with the bumps in the road.

--

You wake up to voices and movement. Your curtain is ripped open and you squint hard.

"Wake up, (Y/L/N)! We are late to the venue. Get dressed and ready to load-in asap." Jolly says to you.

"Aye-aye, Captain Karlsson." You mumble, stumbling out of bed and to the bathroom.

You check your phone momentarily while you get yourself awake. Notifications popping up on the screen. One notification stands out to you: Noah Sebastian, with the yellow ghost on the side.

Your heart does a flip along with your stomach and you grip the sink and hold your breath. You race to unlock it and open the snap. It's a chat. If it's possible to get more nervous, you do.

Your finger hovers over the button, scared to see what it says. You slowly swipe to open the chat. You see that he's saved the photo.

There's one sentence below that:

You're playing a dangerous game, princess.

You gasp, locking your phone. Your teeth sink into your lip.

A sharp rap comes to the bathroom door. "Get outta there, some of us gotta piss!"

"S-sorry!" You stutter and fling open the door to a grumpy Matt.

Exiting the bathroom, you spot Noah getting off the bus. Of course you missed him again.

--

Once again, the day repeats itself with high tension and hard work. The brutal day exhausts you, rushing to make everything work and on time.

Noah is nowhere to be found around you today, socializing with everyone else.

In-between sets, you're setting up the stage with your fellow crew. In the few moments before Bad Omens approaches the stage and your feet have left it, you're opening your phone back up and Noah's chat. You open the gallery, smirking to yourself, and you select your next choice: your pretty panties on display with your ass all up in the camera. Holding your breath again, you click send.

It takes several minutes. The stage music begins to play, and you know that they're about to go on. The blue arrow turns white and you know he's seeing it. You see "typing..." Pop up next to his name and you hold your breath.

Swiping, you see his bitmoji peeking from the bottom. His message pops up and a few seconds later you hear the crowd screeching. He saved this photo too.

You're gonna fucking regret this, you dirty little girl.

You suppress a moan. You fucking hope so.

You run around backstage as needed. One requiring that you assess a problem with a cable processing a cab that wasn't functioning properly. On stage, Noah's eyes catch yours.

He holds the eye contact, breaking your focus from your work momentarily. He looks so wild and tortured when he looks at you. He wants to tear you to pieces and you can feel it in your gut.

When you go backstage, you send the next picture unmercilessly, excited to enrage him further. You fantasize about how hard you're gonna get him.

--

You finish the night on the bus couch. You look at your Snapchat, Noah not opening your snap yet. You huff anxiously.

Noah enters the bus with Ruffilo, laughing about something. His eyes land dangerously on you. You have a feeling he has plans for you. Sitting down on the opposite couch, he glares at you hotly and opens his phone. Your core aches.

You see the light flash in his face. You watch your phone for the confirmation of your message being opened, stomach flipping. You see the blue arrow fade to white again. Looking up, you make eye contact with a Noah who is clearly hiding his expression. Danger glints in his eyes. He goes to his phone, typing furiously, brows furrowed.

You dirty fucking girl. You think you're gonna get away with this? Right in front of my friends? I'm gonna make you regret every fucking second when I get my hands on you.

You look up at his hungry eyes. He has a hint of anger on his face that makes you so wet. You bite your lip at him and bat your eyes. You smirk. You see his fist clench. He's about to stand, when Folio requests his help.

Noah sighs quietly. "Sure," he says.

A new message from Noah.

This isn't over.

You text back. Oh, Noah, you have no idea.

--

Over the next few days, you keep the pictures flowing into his inbox. He kept threatening your demise, even sending a hot picture of his chest and a little smirk playing on his mouth with a hot pressure in his sweats.

You saved it, just for your eyes.

"God, Noah," you mumbled to yourself.

Finding the last picture, of your complete open pussy and breasts sitting perfectly perky on your chest, you send it straight to Noah.

From your bunk, you can hear Noah groan and turn it into a yawn. A message pops up on your phone.

This is the last fucking straw. What a fucking slut you are. All for me. I'm gonna ravage your little cunt and leave you bruised and used just like you're begging me to.

You almost moan out loud, gasping and soaking yourself.

I double dare you to try.

You taunt him, trying to get his animalistic nature to come out.

You're about to get on my bad side, naughty girl.

Give it all to me, baby. You say back.

Careful what you fucking wish for.

[pandora-writes-one-piece]

The Meet Cute - Law's Story - 10

Source for pic

The Great Pretender 10 🔞

Word Count: 4329

Tags For The Whole Story: Fem!Reader; Law is a soft dom; you have bratty tendencies (not all the time); voice kink; praise kink; cursing; very suggestive behaviour and innuendo from the start; sexual tension; teasing; so much flirting; romance; slow-burn; fluff; slight angst; mature audiences (though explicit NSFW moments will be properly tagged on the chapter); possessive Law; protective Law; soft Law; teasing Law; manipulative Doflamingo; inappropriate Doflamingo; fake relationship trope; only one-bed trope; reader has some anxiety issues; reader is a control freak and perfectionist; modern day AU; Mention of ex mentally abusive relationship;

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Summary: After moving away from the hustle and bustle of Grand Line City to help your father around the property following a horse-riding accident - and in the hopes of healing your broken heart after your asshole ex-fiancé cheated - you settle into the country calmness of the Calm Belt. You and Law (your father's doctor) start to build a flirty friendship because of your father’s procedure. So much so that when he’s invited to Baby 5’s wedding (his cousin), he asks you to be his date. His uncle Doflamingo - who is filthy rich - is very adamant on finding a suitable wife for him. Seeing as he wants to avoid that, he asks you to pretend to be his girlfriend for the weekend.

Notes: Forgive me guys, I haven't really had the time to write a lot this week, and I'll be teaching a course near the end of the month so, limited time again. I might have to stick to one weekly update instead of two. Sorry! Also, the 🔞 is for very suggestive talk. I hope you enjoy this one!

Masterlist |Chapter 9| | |Chapter 11|

“The game is pretty simple!” Baby 5 begins, a microphone in hand. The bride has rounded up all the couples on today's guest list - there are around a dozen, from younger couples to older couples - and she's explaining the rules of the first game. Law tried to shy away from the festivities, but Baby 5 wanted her favourite cousin to enter the games. You're pretty excited about it too, it might be fun. “One of you grabs a heart-shaped balloon and writes a love message on it. I'll collect them, inflate them, and read the message. It's the job of the other half of the couple to guess which message is meant for them.”

“Oh, this is fun!” You say while reaching for the balloon. 

Law takes the balloon from your hand with a smirk. “Very fun, let me.” The glint in his eyes tells you that his message will be interesting and you're both dreading and anticipating it. 

Law turns his back on you when he catches you peeking at what he's writing and you stifle a giggle. When Baby 5 comes to collect the balloon, she raises her eyebrow. “You let Law write the message? Oh, this is going to be interesting.” Law smirks and you gulp. 

“Alright, I have all the balloons here! Now, when I read what you think is the message for you, you come and claim your balloon, got it?” The crowd agrees and she claps excitedly. “Partners who wrote the message, no cheating!” 

Law senses your excitement and he chuckles, placing his hand on your lower back and pulling you closer to him. “This is a silly game.” He says, but you notice the slight amusement in his tone. 

“You don't have to pretend that it's annoying you, Law, I can see you're entertained.” You awe and clap at an older couple whose message was part of a love poem: ‘She walks in beauty, like the night, of cloudless climes and starry skies.’

“Oh, I will be entertained, alright. Pay attention, sweetheart, you don't want to miss my message.” He sounds so mischievous that you have to giggle. 

Baby 5 keeps reading the balloons and the messages are all heartfelt confessions and love poems. You can almost bet your savings that Law would never write something like that, and his smug smirk confirms it. 

As you look at him, your heart flutters slightly in your chest and, once again, you feel like you’re part of a real relationship. Your lips are still tingling from the earlier kiss - public claim? - and, suddenly, you feel bad for having pushed him too far. His reaction was unexpected and you were only thinking about yourself in the moment. Perhaps it wasn’t your brightest move.  

“Law?”

He hums softly near your ear, sending a ticklish sensation down your neck, his eyes never leave his cousin. 

“I owe you an apology.” You both clap as another couple guesses the message right - ‘If you live to be a hundred, I want to live to be a hundred minus one day so I never have to live without you’ - and then Law fixes his amber gaze on you with curiosity. 

“Why?”

An exasperated sigh leaves your lips. “I pushed too far this morning.” A light blush tints your cheeks and you look back at Baby 5 to avoid Law's piercing gaze. “We… we were both vulnerable with each other yesterday, baring our insecurities and fears and I… foolishly joked about…” You gesture around with another sigh. “Mingling.” 

Law doesn't speak, and though you're still watching Baby 5, hearing her read ‘I love you more than chocolate. But please, don’t make me prove it’, you can feel his gaze burning your face. 

A laughing girl walks towards Baby 5 and her girlfriend gives her a very heated kiss that gets the crowd cheering. Law pinches your chin with his index finger and thumb forcing you to look into his eyes and, for just a second, you're scared of what you're about to find there. 

Which is silly, because there's only tenderness. 

“Sweetheart, I love the way you push me. Trust me, it was nowhere near far enough.” He dips his head, his lips hovering just above yours. “I can read you like a book and I know when you're testing me playfully. Don't worry on my account, okay? I'll be honest if anything rubs me the wrong way, as long as you do the same.”

You nod, too stunned because he used the word love and it's still bumping around your head as if it were a ball and your brain the pinball machine. 

“Oh, my.” Baby 5 has just inflated another balloon and she's giggling into the microphone. “This one is interesting.” Somehow you know this has to be Law's message and he must sense it too because you both look back at the bride, your heart hammering with such violence that you think it might just jump out and start walking on its own. “It just says: ‘Mine’” She turns the balloon towards the crowd, some laugh, some gasp, you flare up, turning beet red. Your hand flies to your mouth to stifle a gasp that turns into a giggle. This is so Law! 

You take a deep breath and shake your head as you stride forward to retrieve your balloon, ignoring whistles from the crowd as they realise who wrote the message. “Oh, I should've guessed!” Baby 5 laughs as she hands you the balloon. “Look out gentlemen, I think this was more a warning than a message!”

You're still blushing as you return to Law's side, feeling all eyes on you. You especially notice a pair of flaming red ones piercing you from behind tinted sunglasses. 

“Mine, Law, really?” His smirk is impossibly smug. 

“I told you people shouldn't stare. Now they know.” His eyes scan the crowd and he grunts again, enveloping your waist with both arms and pulling you closer to him. “Or maybe not. Maybe I should tie that balloon to your dress so everybody gets the message.”

You giggle at his silliness - especially because nobody is paying attention to you at this point - and you playfully wrap your arms around his neck, feeling more like a couple than ever and trying to convince yourself that you’re only doing this for the sake of your ‘fake relationship’. “So I would be walking around carrying your heart, Law?” You tease him with another giggle, your fingers playing with the hair at his nape without you giving them permission to. The stare he pins you with is serious and unwavering. 

“What if you already are?” 

A rush of heat travels through your body at his words and you swear your heart stops for a beat, restarting again, pounding faster and harder. What? The smile on your face is quickly erased as you're trying your hardest to read Law's expression. He didn't use the signal. He didn't even say his ‘if this were true’ motto. Is he being real? 

You open your mouth to answer when you're interrupted by Baby 5. “Guys, I already called everybody for the next game! Come on, you can suck face later.”

You smile wearily and let go of Law, taking his hand instead to follow her. Yet you can't stop the loud beating of your heart or shake away the kaleidoscope of butterflies swirling in your stomach. 

Is this real?

-*-

You've been playing silly trust games, like walking blindfolded and only following your partner's instructions and answering quizzes with questions like, ‘what’s your partner’s favourite colour?’ or ‘what’s your partner’s favourite movie?’. Safe to say you got all of those right and passed with flying colours. 

Now, Baby 5 announces yet another game and Law groans, looking at his watch. “Got somewhere else to be?” You ask with a grin. You’re actually enjoying this way too much while Law looks more miserable by the hour. Doflamingo hasn’t addressed any of you since his earlier interaction, so you’re feeling confident since everyone else takes you for a real couple who’s madly in love. 

“Anywhere but here?” He smirks at you.

“I think this might be the last game, then you’re off the hook.”

“Alright, alright, everyone gather round! So for this final game, we’re going to have one partner blindfolded…” She pauses for dramatic effect and the guests cheer. “And, in complete silence,” she emphasises the words, “they’re going to have to find their better half by touch alone while navigating the crowd. Now, this is where it gets fun! I’m inviting the singles to join in on the disruption! We don’t want the game to be too easy, do we?”

Watching Doflamingo and Bellamy join the area, you tense up again. It’s time to step up your game. You’re not going to fail this. Law is also visibly tensing and you sense his uneasiness when he reaches for the blindfold and tells you to turn around.

“You’ll find me. I know you will, this is just a silly game and we’ve already proven that we’re very good at silly games.” He whispers near your ear before setting the silk material over your eyes and tying it up in a tight knot. Your head jerks back softly with the motion and you can’t help but let out a small gasp. Law notices it because in a heartbeat his lips are back near your ear. “You like that, sweetheart, being blindfolded by my hands?”

The voice! 

Swallowing the lump that suddenly formed in your throat and wiping your sweaty hands on your dress, you nod slowly, not trusting your voice enough to grace him with an answer.

“Noted.” He slurs and places the lightest of kisses on your neck, making you shiver as you try to focus more on the task at hand and less on the throbbing between your thighs.

“Everybody ready?” The crowd cheers at Baby 5’s words, but you remain silent. You’re not ready. This is losing control to the extreme, and Law is not near you anymore. So you’re already feeling lost and overwhelmed, because losing control to Law is one thing, losing control, period, is another. “Begin the search for your partner, couples! Singles, disrupt!”

You take slow shallow breaths to try and calm the beating of your heart. You know there are no obstacles in the area around you, just people. A lot of people. Some bump into you, making you gasp from the sudden contact, others snicker and laugh around you to try and confuse you and it’s all too overwhelming.

Maybe you shouldn’t have done this.

“Focus, sweetheart.” You hear him somewhere to your right, so you turn in that direction.

“This is a silent game, people!” Baby 5 admonishes Law without singling him out, but it’s alright because his voice grounded you and you do as he says: you focus. 

You move tentatively, small steps at a time, hoping people get out of your way before you bump them. You reach out your hands so you can try to discern guests, trying to find Law. Here, a suit, shoulders, it’s not him. Too short. “Nope.” You mutter and move forward, step by step. Your fingers grip against a tie and you dismiss another person, Law’s not wearing a tie. “Not you…”

Slowly you begin to gain your confidence back, quickly dismissing guests because you can easily feel they’re not Law. Until you bump against someone who doesn’t get out of your way. Muttering an apology, you extend your hand and find a hard, steely chest. But it’s too high. It’s not Law. “Not you.” You make a move to continue your path, but the person grips your hand before you can completely pull away. A small intake of breath parts your lips as your hand is pressed firmly against the chest again. 

“Are you sure I’m not who you’re looking for, princesa?” He whispers and your legs wobble while a cold shiver runs through you. You try to remove your hand, but Doflamingo’s grip is strong. “Check again.”

“No, sir.” You wince as he grips your hand harder, but you know he won’t do anything else, you’re in public. “I’m looking for Law, not you.” You say as you pull harder and he releases you with an icy chuckle. 

“Are you sure about that?” His question follows you but you pretend to ignore it as you trek forward, nerves rattled, panting breaths and wishing for this to end. 

And then you feel the lightest brush of fingers against your waist. You’re not quite sure the direction it came from, but it doesn’t matter because your instincts take over and you’re drawn to Law as if you are magnets. Your hands collide against his chest and a jolt travels up your arms and settles gently in your chest. “Law.” You whine in relief as his hands remove the blindfold from your eyes.

When his gaze meets yours, you see a hint of worry in his golden eyes. “Hey, it’s over. I’ve got you.” You nod, your fingers digging into his shirt as his arms wrap around you in a warm embrace. “Lost too much control, sweetheart?”

You stifle a resigned chuckle against his chest. “I never want to play this again. I hated it.”

His presence grounds you and soothes you. His scent envelopes you in a comforting embrace while his arms pull you back into the controlled environment your mind had wandered away from. You're still basking in his comfort when Baby 5 approaches you both with a wide grin, dragging Sai by the hand. “Congratulations, you two. You won our games contest!”

“Contest?” You ask, pulling yourself away from Law with a tremendous effort. 

“Yeah, silly! Maybe if you two stopped being so lost in each other, you would've actually listened to what I said.” She rolls her eyes and sighs. “You won a private photo shoot with my wedding photographer - the best in Grand Line City!” She squeals in excitement. “So go change into your formal attire for the rehearsal dinner and meet the photographer by the greenhouse in half an hour, got it?”

A photo shoot? For you two? As a couple? 

Your heart warms at the prospect of keeping a memento of the wonderful time you are having with Law. But your mind tells you that it will just be a memory of something that is bound to give you heartache when you eventually fall apart. 

“Sounds fun.” Law says near your ear, and his words are such a contradiction to the scowl on his lips that you can't hold back a laugh. 

“You could've fooled me. We'll be there, Baby 5. Thank you.” The grunt Law exhales only makes you laugh harder. 

-*-

You had previously selected the dress for the rehearsal dinner - or Nami did, actually - and it's gorgeous. The dress hugs your body perfectly with strategically placed slits to enhance your figure. Its colour makes your eyes pop and your hair stand out. It's perfect. As you look at yourself in the bathroom mirror, you can't help but feel a tingle of excitement at Law's reaction. He always has a compliment ready for you, but you've never looked so gorgeous as you do now. 

Closing your makeup case and adding the finishing touches to your hair, you glance at the half-open zipper on the back of your dress. Maybe if you really tried you could've closed it yourself, but you decide to ask for help instead. 

Today things with you and Law have been going great. You've bonded, you've kissed, you've flirted… It feels like a real relationship. Maybe… Maybe you can take this one step further, why not? You're both adults, if you like each other what's stopping you? 

‘Nothing’ is the word that keeps repeating in your head as you open the bathroom door. Your heart was already thumping dramatically against your chest, but one look at Law dressed in a complete suit has you salivating on sight. 

Your legs almost lose their strength when he locks eyes with you. He looks so handsome. 

“You look-... - you’re beautiful.” His eyes burn into your figure and a blush creeps its way to your nose and cheeks. 

“Thank you. You look very dashing yourself, Mr. Trafalgar.” You imitate a posh accent and he chuckles. Then you turn slightly. “Can you help zip me up?”

You hear a confirmation as he approaches you with large strides. You're in front of the vanity so you can see him behind you. And you're mesmerised by him. You watch his throat bob up and down as he stares at your bare back, his eyes darkening with a haze and you feel a tingle in your skin even before he raises his hands. His mere presence commands you and then you make the mistake of taking a deep breath. He smells divine. 

Law's hands touch the back of your dress and his fingers are light as feathers. He's breathing near the curve of your neck and each of his rapid breaths brings a shiver down your spine, a clenching to your heart, and an ache between your thighs. 

“You're driving me insane…” He murmurs against your skin and you close your eyes, the deepness of his voice enveloping you like a lover's caress. His fingers graze your back as he slowly pulls the zipper up. “You look gorgeous…” Law brushes his lips against the exposed bone at the nape of your neck. “You smell delicious…” Burying his nose in the curve of your shoulder, he takes a deep breath. “You look ready to devour.” Then he exhales near your earlobe, making you arch your neck and grip the vanity so hard with your hands, that you almost sense the wood cracking. 

“Law…”

He pulls the zipper all the way up and you see him grin at you in the mirror, that particularly unhinged grin that makes you weak in the knees. “What is it, sweetheart? If you don't say what you want, how do I know what to do?”

Since his hands are no longer occupied with the zipper, he brings one of them to your belly, opening it flat against your stomach and pulling you flush against him. You can sense how much he's aroused by this moment and, judging by the ache between your legs, you're equally turned on. 

But what do you want him to do?

“Law!” You whine, not sure what to ask for but wanting him to give you everything. 

“Yes, sweetheart?” His hand traces patterns against your stomach and teases the underside of your breasts and, even without touching them, you can feel how hard your nipples are from all his teasing. 

“I don't know what I want, just… Please!” His low chuckle caresses your ear and sets you ablaze. 

“Maybe I can tell you what I want. How about that?” You can feel the deep rumble of his timbre coming from his chest vibrating against your back. His voice makes you throb and gasp and you nod. “That's good sweetheart. Open your eyes.” You do, chest already heaving from shortened breaths and cheeks slightly flushed. “You're going to watch your face in the mirror as I tell you all the things I want to do to you, got it? If you close your eyes, I'll have to punish you.” His thumb grazes your nipple again and you whine because the touch is not enough to soothe and it only serves to ignite. “I need a verbal answer.”

“Yes, Law. I got it.” You train your eyes on your expression and flush further at how vulnerable you appear. Your breath catches at the way Law's hand covers you and at how long his fingers are. 

“Take a deep breath, sweetheart.” You obey. “I’m going to tell you step by step what’s been playing on my mind on repeat.” Anticipation builds in your core and you clench your fists, holding your breath “I want to start by slowly licking every inch of skin on your body, worshipping you like the goddess you are and leaving no crevice untouched. I will take extra care with your neck, learning just how sensitive you are, and leaving you breathless.” His tongue traces a sinful pattern against your neck and you gasp. “And when I slowly get to your breasts, I will roll your nipple against my tongue, take it between my teeth and bite you in a way that's going to have you dripping down your legs. You won't know if it's pain, pleasure or both. And you'll want more of it.”

Your legs start to wobble at the vivid image he’s painting. The sensuality of his words is further enhanced by his voice and his touch. Law has you under his spell and you can't - nor do you want to - break from it. 

His other hand wraps around your neck, thumb pressing against your artery so he can feel it flutter under his skin, so he can sense how lost you truly are in this moment. You look at your reflection in the mirror and the throbbing between your legs only intensifies. “My hands will follow the trail my tongue creates with a gentle caress. I will have you arching your back, leaning against my touch, squirming and begging for more even before my tongue touches your clit.” 

An unbridled moan escapes your lips as you think about Law's head between your thighs and you close your eyes for a beat, too lost in the moment. Law presses your neck gently and pinches your nipple making you jump and mewl. “Law!” A gasp escapes you and he smirks deviously. 

“Eyes open sweetheart.”

“Fuck!” You mutter, your mouth half parted and your hands clenched into fists against your sides. 

“I know, I know.” The smugness in his voice only makes you wetter and by heavens above, you need this man to touch you. “You'll be cursing too, when I place my fingers inside of you just to find out how much you need me. And how ready and willing you are for me.” He lowers his hand, his pinky going lower than your abdomen and you throb incessantly, yearning for his touch. “Hot. Tight. Slick. Taking my fingers so well.” His words brush against your ear but they might as well be caressing you everywhere. This is unbearable. You need some sort of release. He's just building you up, his flames licking higher and higher and it's taking up all the oxygen. You need more. So much more. 

“Please, Law… please…”

“Yes, sweetheart. It's okay. You would behave so well, being such a good girl. You know what would happen?” You mewl a weak reply, something unintelligible even to you. “You'd come on my fingers once, and on my tongue again, until I bent you over this vanity and buried myself so deep in you that you would barely keep your eyes open.” His hot breath caresses your ear before he whispers, “And then you'd come on my cock. Twitching and squirming and taking all of me so, so well.”

Fuck, it's too much. His filthy talk is making you want to close your eyes and give in, touch yourself or rub against something to stop this ache, this need, this insane desire he keeps weaving with his sinful words. You need - want - everything! You…

“I want it all, Law.” You confess, breathless, as you turn your head to the side, facing him with hazy eyes and parted lips. Absentmindedly there's a little notification in your brain that pops up reminding you neither of you used the signal before this interaction. 

But who cares? 

Because Law's fingers tighten on your jaw tilting your face towards him, the hand on your stomach grips harder, fingers protruding your skin and he smirks smugly once more, though you can very well read the hunger in his eyes. “Can you handle it all?”

You nod for a second before you turn in his embrace and dig your fingers into his scalp, pulling him down to your lips into a heated kiss. He's as pent-up as you apparently, because his tongue latches immediately onto yours and his hands hoist you up, setting you on the vanity again in a repeat from last night, though this time there's no lingering hurt or unwanted vulnerability. There's not even the haze of alcohol between you. 

There's just desire. 

And maybe something more… 

This time there will be no what-ifs. This is true. You know it, you feel it. 

And it's happening. 

Law's hands caress your thighs and you open your legs for him in a silent invitation. The slits of the dress are there for his use, and he doesn't hesitate. Without parting the kiss, Law's fingers travel the inside of your thigh and you moan in anticipation. You know you're soaked. You need his touch. You can practically feel the tips of his fingers near your panties… 

Until Law's phone rings with a sound so loud it makes you gasp, your heart pounding harder against your chest as you both part, breathless and dishevelled. 

“Fuck!” Law curses, uncharacteristically rattled, and picks up the phone with a grunt. “Baby 5, I can literally see you. We're waving at you. Open your eyes!” Then he disconnects the call, places his hands on the vanity one on each side of your legs and sighs as his eyes search yours. “We have to go…”

You're still slightly addled. Your heart is still out of rhythm and the throbbing hasn't stopped, but you both know the moment has passed and you need to go. So you smile reassuringly at him, your hands resting above his, ignoring the way that touching him sends a jolt of electricity up your arm. 

“Raincheck?” You try, turning your smile into a smirk. 

A chuckle escapes his lips as he helps you get down from the vanity. “Definitely.”

Taglist: @rosidaze @beachaddict48 @armiliadawn @jintaka-hane @sprinkklz @baby5555 @hopelesslover06 @mars-mizuko @sleepykittycx @nerium-lil @eustasscapitankid @jqperi @rainbow2312 @ren-ni @alexturnersgirl

|Chapter 11|

[osmanthus-wine-addiction]

Unraveled Pretenses ◈ Pairing: Zhongli x Fox Spirit Reader ◈ Contains: mentions of yin/yang, wonky mythology, feeding urges, monthly werewolf-like behaviors ◈ Wordcount: 1911

Unbeknownst to the rest of Liyue, the retired Geo Archon was living among them, pretending to be a human, trying his very best to blend in. He's confident in his disguise since nobody's confronted him yet on what his true identity is. His days of descending on this city as a dragon are long over and now he simply enjoys leisurely strolls along the harbor as an unassuming consultant of a funeral parlor.

You were a young and curious fox spirit who after hundreds of years, finally gained the ability to transform into human form. Of course your first destination would be to visit the dazzling city by the harbor, full of colorful lanterns and the joyful sounds of its human crowds. You bump into a handsome man with the most striking amber eyes. His gaze lingers, causing your heart to quicken. He smiles and utters an apology.

"Are you lost?" He asks you. "I couldn't help but notice you wandering along the pier. Are you perhaps looking for someone?"

"No, I'm actually not from around here." You quickly reply.

With that admission, the kind man took it upon himself to be your tour guide. He introduced you to many of Liyue's prominent shops and even brought you to an inn where he requested a room for you to stay when you told him you didn't have anywhere to stay the night. The problem was, you had no mora on you.

"I see..." He coughed, realizing that he also didn't bring any mora. "Please place it on the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor's tab."

Since he was the first friend you made in this unfamiliar city, it never occurred to you how strange Zhongli was. You assumed many things about humans based on your own observations of him. He was fascinating, with his endless stream of stories. You learned so much about humans from just listening to him ramble about the city. He also asked his employer if you could help out at the funeral parlor. Humans worked to receive mora, which they purchased things with. Nothing was free here, unlike in the mountains. You eventually needed to repay Zhongli for all the kindness he's shown you. That's what a human would do. Even though he put everything on the Wangsheng tab, you found out that all of that mora he spent on you was ultimately going to be deducted from his own paycheck. You might be a fox spirit masquerading as a human, but you weren't an ungrateful prick. Fox spirits get a bad reputation in this part of Liyue because of their tendencies to steal from and trick humans, but those were usually farmers who regularly left out animal traps. Fox spirits weren't as devious as they're rumored to be.

What was originally supposed to be a quick trip to satisfy your curiosity about humankind turned into a prolonged stay. You had become a resident of Liyue harbor. Your friend Zhongli was now your neighbor and you regularly stayed over until late, drinking tea or wine with him. It was your first time drinking during a full moon, when yin energies were at their strongest. Your human appearance relied on your stockpile of yang energy that you had slacked on replenishing while you stayed in the city. In a panic, you rushed out of the courtyard and into the streets before Zhongli could return with another bottle of heated wine. You only had one human friend in this city and you couldn't let him see you with fur sprouting out of your skin and a tail dragging behind you under your skirt. It would frighten and disgust him. You remembered all the stories you heard about fox spirits, sinister creatures who take the form of seductive vixens to lure impressionable human victims into dark alleys to feed off their yang energy.

Your body grew weaker the further you ran. The moon loomed overhead like an omen, silently mocking you for pretending to be something you were not. Yang energy, where would you get yang energy? Panic coursed through your body as your eyes scanned the streets. There was scarcely any people loitering around at this hour aside from drunkards. The thought repulsed you, but your yang deficiency drove you towards a lone figure laying against a wall up ahead. It was risky to feed off humans, especially in a city like Liyue where prominent exorcists reside. You could be caught and killed. Your pelt would be made into a luxury rug to be sold off to a rich collector. You didn't live hundreds of years to end up as somebody’s rug.

The only other option was to find a place and hide, enduring the crippling hunger pangs until the full moon went away. With how weak your body was getting, you weren't even sure if you could make it out of the city and into the forest before you passed out.

"There you are. I wondered where you wandered off to." A familiar voice sounded from behind you just as you were about to collapse.

"Zhongli?" You managed to say, head spinning as your body was lifted off the ground. "Wait..."

You didn't have to look in the mirror to know that you probably looked hideous with your human form slipping. You could see your claws instead of fingernails as you raised your hands to encircle Zhongli's neck. Your tail swung from side to side as he walked with you in his arms.

For some reason, ever since he scooped you up, your hunger pangs diminished. You still felt extremely weak due to the lack of yang energy, but at least you weren't lightheaded anymore. The tuffs of fur that had sprouted up along your arms disappeared and it seemed like your claw were shifting back into fingernails. Was it Zhongli?

"You don't look scared." You noted curiously.

"Should I be?" He smiled down at you as he made his way back through his front gate. His door opened for him as if a ghost had pulled it open. Zhongli set you down gently on his chaise.

You realized how unusual your friend's reaction to your appearance was. For Archon's sake, you had a furry tail! Humans don't have tails. He was too calm, too collected.

"When did you know?"

He chuckled, handing you a piping hot cup of tea. It smelled a bit strange, but the scent seemed to help ease your symptoms.

"Ever since I laid my eyes on you." Zhongli admitted. "You have a distinct aura about you that humans do not possess."

"I didn't think it'd be this bad." You glanced up at the moon through his window, a bit conflicted.

"You are safe here. Nobody besides me will know about your secret." He assured you. "If you need it, I can help you request for a few days off from the funeral parlor."

"There's something else..." You trailed off, catching yourself before you said something inappropriate.

Zhongli was already doing so much for you despite not being under any obligation to. You already decided to endure the hunger pangs until the full moon was over and now he had provided a safe place for you to do that. You shouldn't ask for anything more from him.

"Do you still feel unwell?" He furrowed his brow, leaning over you and placing a palm against your cheek. You were awfully cold to the touch. "It seems that the red ginseng was not potent enough. Perhaps I should consult Baizhu to see if there is something more effective for replenishing yang energy."

Your eyes widened at his words. How does a human know so much about what you're going through? For the first time since you've met him, it suddenly struck you how unusual this man was. Perhaps you had simply spent too much time with him. Proximity renders the eyes blurry.

"That's not really needed." You couldn't let him get another person involved in your ordeal.

"Indeed. It looks like my presence has been able to keep your symptoms at bay. Perhaps..." He suddenly paused, clearing his throat. "May I propose something?"

"Hm?" You raised a brow.

"A contract." He said softly. "You do not have to agree to it if you do not wish to. I am simply offering you a solution if you wish to avoid this sort of affliction in the future."

Your mind raced through all the possible solutions he could possibly be alluding to and realizing there could only be one that involved his help. Suddenly the room got a little hotter, or was it your face? You drew in an anxious breath.

"I trust you didn't wish to harm any humans because of this condition of yours. If you did, I would not have found you in the state I found you in. Consider it... my gratitude. You need not worry. If you were to feed off me, it would not affect me as severely as it would a human."

"You say that like you're not human."

"I never said I was human." He chuckled, reaching out and petting your furry ears. "That, my dear, was something you assumed of me."

Your shocked expression seemed to cause him great amusement.

"What are you then?"

"If you really must know, I suppose I can show you." He sighed. "It would only be fair since I am seeing you as you are now."

Zhongli's body began to shift, growing a bit taller. Brilliant golden scales scattered along his skin and a long scaly brown tail extended from behind him, ending in swirls of gold. Your eyes widened when two crystalline horns sprouted from the top of his head, gold like cor lapis. You were speechless for a good minute or two, unable to look away. Zhongli was no human for sure. You believed what he said just now and finally understood why his mere presence could suppress your hunger for yang energy. In front of you was a fucking dragon, the very manifestation of yang energy. You could drink your fill off him and it wouldn't even make a dent.

"Are you really letting me feed off you?" You had to ask him again to make sure. Just the thought made you unconsciously swallow.

"Please be gentle."

Zhongli chuckled as you grabbed him by the lapels and pressed your lips against his in an open-mouthed kiss. He groaned softly in protest as you rolled on top of him, pinning him underneath you. Much-needed yang energy flowed up from his lips to yours. You drank it in greedily, like a thirsty traveler stranded in the desert.

When you finally had your fill, Zhongli was panting from lack of air and a heavy blush was spread over his face. This was way too intense for a first kiss, you had to admit, but could you be blamed?

"It worries me that you may need to do this every month." He spoke up.

"Do you want to retract the contract already?"

"I said no such thing." He smiled at you.

You could see your reflection in his amber eyes. Since the first time he laid eyes on you, he already knew. It felt nice laying in Zhongli's arms like this without your mask. He was him and you were you. Neither of you were what you both pretended to be. You would probably never truly blend in, but if Zhongli could pull it off, so could you.

[lovebugism]

hi angel! I have a little fictober request … can I pls get holding hands for the first time from the prompt list with steve harrington and shy!reader? maybe they’re in a busy place and steve doesn’t want to lose r so he grabs her hand, not realising how ridiculously flustered she gets <3333

ty for requesting angel :D this can be read as a part two to this fic!

summary: steve takes you to a mall in the city in a desperate attempt to spend time with you, fending off freaks, douchebags, and your anxious tendencies alike (shy!reader, hurt/comfort, friends to lovers cw for mentions of anxiety, 3.5k)

fictober leftovers (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)

Steve idles between the X-rated horror and thriller sections for several long minutes until he works up the courage to talk to you. You’re a pretty little thing behind the counter, hand in your palm as you scribble into the journal Keith threatened to confiscate from you earlier that morning.

He’s never been this nervous to talk to you. Things are different now. Post-first date, and Steve’s still toeing that wretched line between friends and something more. The puppy love is so painfully mutual, but it’s equally hard to navigate. He can’t come on too strong — not with someone as soft as you — but he’s still got some King Steve left in him. He’s still learning how to be gentle.

With sweaty hands, he walks up to the counter and tries to be subtle about the whole thing. Stealthy, like a ninja. He leans on his folded-up arms and blurts before he means to, “So you’re, like, totally coming tomorrow, right?”

You lift your chin and blink at him with wide eyes. You hadn’t heard him come over, too busy doodling a bunch of nothingness in your notebook. Your stomach whirls at the sight of him. It takes you a moment too long to answer.

“Coming… where?”

“To the mall,” he reminds, then corrects himself with a shrug. “The one in the city— not the shithole we have here.”

“Oh. Uh, I don’t— I don’t know,” you stammer. Steve invited you earlier that week, and you promised to think about it. You did. And you want so desperately to go, but your brain’s too mean, and it just won’t let you.

The disappointment that flashes on his face is fleeting, but you don’t miss it. The hurt softens his features in an unbearable way. It makes your chest ache.

“C’mon,” Steve presses in a gentle lilt. He leans closer to you, eyes twinkling and lips curling. “It could be fun, you know? I mean, everyone’s gonna be there.”

He’s trying his best to persuade you. He has no idea that that’s exactly what’s keeping you from going. Crowds are always stress-inducing, even those of the familiar kind.

“Everyone as in…?”

“Robin, obviously. Dustin, too,” Steve answers, counting on his fingers as he goes. “Max is coming, but Lucas has a basketball thing, so he can’t. And the rest of the little shits are in California, so that’s definitely a plus.”

It’s a dumb joke, but it makes you laugh anyway — a quiet giggle of a thing that makes him grin.

“Uh… Eddie’s coming, too, I think— but don’t let that dissuade you, alright? I promise I’ll protect you from that freak. You don’t have to worry about him.”

You smile because you know he’s joking. You’ve met Eddie a couple times now. He’s always been really sweet to you. Him and Steve just have a strange complex that forces them to be assholes to each other.

“And also, I’m gonna be there. Obviously. So…” he trails off with a wavering smile. So if you don’t wanna come for them, maybe you can come for me, is what he’s really trying to tell you.

“I don’t know,” you repeat, quieter now as you shrink into yourself. You try and fail to meet Steve’s honeyed gaze. “I just feel like I’ll make everything all weird.”

His bushy brows pinch, almost in offense that you’d think you’re anything less than totally perfect. “Why would you think that?”

“‘Cause… I don’t know,” you murmur in a quiet sigh. You don’t want to lie to him, but telling the truth feels so much harder. “They don’t really know me, you know? And I feel like… like I’ll just ruin everything if I’m there…”

It takes Steve a couple of seconds to answer you. He doesn’t know how you could say something that — like you don’t light up every room you’re in. “Well, that’s… that’s just not true,” he argues with a shrug. “They like you. They love you, actually— they just wanna get to know you. And the only way they’re gonna get to know you is if you come hang out every once in a while.”

Your heart flutters. You want to believe him. It’s hard for you to comprehend that anyone could care so much about your presence, so you just nod and don’t say anything further. 

Steve is quick to comfort you, almost like he can read your mind. “But if you think it’s gonna be too much, you could always just stick with me. I’ll fend off the freaks for you, no problem.”

His cinnamon eyes glimmer with honey. He looks at you far too fondly to say no.

—————

There’s six of you crammed into Steve’s 733i. It’s already a tight fit, but it’s more suffocating when it’s full of a million different conversations. Almost all of them are pointed your way. Steve tries to bat everyone off of you, but it’s hard to yell at everyone and drive at the same time.

You’re being a pretty good sport about it despite how anxiously helpless you feel. 

You wring your clammy hands in your lap and try to regulate your bated breaths, nodding to whatever Max is telling you. It’s hard to hear her because Eddie’s talking to you, too. You’re too scared he’ll think you’re mean if you stop him.

You watch Robin reach for the radio, complaining about all the yelling as she turns up the volume. The cheesy pop song is all you can hear. The conversations around you become a monotone buzzing. You feel like you could just about explode.

“Jesus, you guys are acting like you’ve never seen another person before,” Steve shouts over it all, the only definite thing you can understand. “Let her breathe before she thinks we’re all a bunch of lunatics, alright?”

He’s met with a bunch of muffled complaints, but the noise quietens nonetheless.

Steve glances at you in the rearview, a quick check to make sure you’re still okay. You catch him doing it and try your best to give him a smile. It looks more like a wince.

“Well, it’s your fault for finally bringing someone cool around,” Max argues with all her practiced teenaged ambiguity. “I have to spend all day surrounded by freaks— at least now there’s someone halfway normal to talk to.”

“I’m normal!” Steve insists, face twisted in offense.

“You’re a jock.”

“Hey. C’mon, Red,” Eddie scolds, so obviously playful. “Let’s not go throwing the j-word around—”

The brunette boy huffs. “Thank you!”

“—Jock would imply that Steve’s still cool,” the wild-haired boy continues. “Which he isn’t.”

Poorly hidden laughter fills the small car. Steve nods and mutters beneath it all, “Yeah. Okay. Thanks for the clarification, Munson.”

He glances at you again and finds you cracking a halfway sincere smile. He shoots you a light-hearted glare. “Don’t laugh! You’re just encouraging him!”

“Sorry,” you apologize, hiding your giggle behind your fist. “’M sorry.”

Steve smiles at you, silently tells you he doesn’t really mean it. He’d let Musnon make fun of him all day if he thought it meant he’d get to hear you laugh like that again.

—————

You take your first good breath in an hour when you step out of the car. 

Steve shuts it off and gravitates towards you on instinct. His honey eyes are wide as they dart across your flustered features. You see his hands reach towards you, to grab your elbows maybe, but he decides against it.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” you nod, quicker than you mean to. “I’m good.”

“Okay. I’m sorry. I really tried to—”

“I know,” you cut him off with a sweet, still quiet smile. “It’s still okay.”

He sighs heavy, like a deep breath of relief. “Okay. Good,” he hums, almost to himself, nodding with a pink grin you could stare at all day. He would’ve let you, but neither of you get the chance. 

Your friends start messing around, and the chaos melts into the buzzing crowd surrounding you, and you realize the two of you aren’t the only people on earth. Bummer.

You gather around the large map at the entrance of the bustling mall. “Where should we go first?” Dustin chirps from the front of the crowd. His eyes are as wide as his smile. “Game Player? Sam Goody? Oh, look— they have a RadioShack! I’ve been looking for a new supercomm. It’s on the other side of the  building, though, but we can just work our way around, I guess—”

“Jesus, Dusty-Bun,” Robin interjects with a gritty laugh. She stands on the outside of the group, arms crossed over her chest, effortlessly too cool for it all. “Take a breath, buddy.”

“Don’t call me that!” the boy gripes over his right shoulder.

Steve shrugs. “Go wherever you want to. I don’t care.”

Dustin looks to his left, shooting the older boy a glare. “Aren’t you supposed to be the babysitter?”

“You’re fourteen!”

“Well, what if I get kidnapped?”

“No one’s kidnapping you, alright? Trust me,” Steve jokes, only smiling when he sees you trying to hide yours. He puts his hands on his waist and cocks his hip to the side. “They’ll send you right back where you came from. You have nothing to worry about.”

Dustin squints. “Rude.”

“We’ll just meet back at the food court in, like, two hours. And if you don’t get yourself killed, you’ll be fine,” Steve reasons with a nonchalant shrug and a jutted-out lip.

“Oh. Wow. Thanks, Steve. What would I ever do without you?”

He rolls his cinnamon eyes at the boy’s monotone. “Alright, smartass.”

When the rest of the group dissipates, he leans over to nudge your shoulder. It knocks you from your stupor — so deep in your own head you were practically drowning. You blink at him with wide, glassy eyes. “Hm?”

“Do you wanna go anywhere?” he asks with a wavering smile. His laugh is equally forced. “You’re kinda staring a hole into the map there…”

“Oh. No. I was just…” you trail off with a shake of your head. You’re not entirely sure what to tell him, how to make him understand your easily overstimulated mind. “I was just distracted. Sorry.”

“It’s okay. No big deal.”

“Where did everyone else go?” you wonder with a furrow to your brow, noticing the lack of familiar chaos around you.

“Eddie and Dustin went to some movie store, and I think Robin and Max are on the hunt for cassettes.”

“Okay...” you nod with a tremble in your voice. 

You’re still not totally used to being alone with Steve. Your friends are usually good distractions. They fill your awkward silences with something funnier and talk loud when you get too quiet. When they’re not around it’s just… awkward silences and quiet air. 

You get too in your own head, so eager to impress the pretty boy beside you, that you end up putting your foot in your mouth.

Steve doesn’t seem nearly as apprehensive. Instead, he’s beaming at the fact that he’s finally got you alone. He doesn’t have to worry about quieting Dustin when he gets too loud or shoving Eddie away when he forgets what personal space is. It’s quieter with just the two of you — warmer, cozier, easier.

“Wanna go down to the food court?” he wonders, honey eyes sparkling when he looks your way. “I know you haven’t eaten anything yet, so…”

Your eyes narrow, accusing and playful. “How would you know that?”

“Uh, ‘cause I know you,” the boy scoffs like it’s obvious. “I basically have to force you to eat every morning.”

“That’s not true!”

“It so is!” Steve giggles and it’s heaven to your ears, the exact sound of honey. “That’s why I hate not opening with you. ‘Cause if I’m not around to force you to eat the other half of my Poptart, I’m just, like, worrying if you’re withering away or not.”

Your face burns hot. Your heart swells with a similar warmth that borders on painful. You didn’t think he cared so much about you — or that he ever thought about you outside of work or the occasional hangout.

“Fine,” you concede with your arms crossed over your chest, trying not to seem as flustered as you feel. “Let’s go to the food court.”

Steve grins. He follows you in stride when you start to head that way. “Cool. We can go get one of those disgustingly good burgers or something.”

“For breakfast?” you wonder with a light-hearted laugh.

“Yeah! Like, one of those crazy huge ones, you know? The patties are, like, the size of your fist— make a fist.”

You do. You ball your fingers and hold them up between you. Steve holds onto your wrist for further inspection, fingers long and warm and soft. You swallow.

“Bigger than your fist,” he corrects with a laugh. The sweet sound is drowned out by the swell of yelling teenagers. They talk so loudly and over one another that their conversations become a meaningless drones.

Two in particular shove at one another, laughing loud like it’s fun. One of them almost barrels into you — long blonde hair, tight shirt, tighter jeans, and cologne so potent it stings your nose. He just narrowly misses you, mostly because Steve’s there to yank you out of the way.

The boy’s gentle grip on you tightens. He pulls you close until you’re stumbling into his side. With a strong arm wrapped around you, he shouts at the roughhousing teens — “Watch where you’re going, assholes!”

The scrawny boys walk on ahead of you. They seem apologetic, halfway scared at first. When they realize Steve’s not rushing to beat their asses, they chuckle about the whole thing and keep punching each other.

You’re still frozen in shock — not so much of fear anymore, but of how tightly Steve’s holding onto you. It’s an embrace of the firmer kind, a touch so solid you feel immediately safer inside it. You don’t think you’ve ever been this close before. The teenage girl in your heart starts to spin.

“You okay?” Steve asks when the anger ebbs.

“Yeah,” you nod, swallowing tightly and forcing an awkward laugh. “You don’t have to keep asking me that, you know?”

He nods rapidly, then notices how close he’s holding you. Fearful that he’s made you uncomfortable, he uncurls his arm from around you and takes a small step back. “No, I know! I just wanna— I just wanna make sure, you know? ‘Cause I know you don’t like… all this.”

He waves his hands vaguely out beside him.

You’re immediately cold without him holding you. You wrap your arms around yourself to compensate for the lack of him. 

“Yeah, but… It’s not the rest of the world’s fault that I’m scared of everything,” you say with another forced laugh, shifting your weight on your feet. If you could melt into your oversized sweater, you would. “It’s mine. So I can deal with it. I have to deal with it.”

Steve nods, slower this time and with a silent sense of understanding. He steps closer to you and shrugs. “I think the least I can do is make it a little easier on you… And I feel like I’ve been doing the exact opposite of that all day.”

“That’s not true,” you argue with the shake of your head.

His chocolate eyes widen. You’re rarely so assertive. “No?”

“No,” you answer, softer this time as you grow sheepish all over again. Your unsure gaze darts from your dirty sneakers to his twinkling eyes until it makes you dizzy. “You’re actually making it more bearable for me, so…”

“Oh. Okay. Good,” he nods with a smile, breathless because his chest is swelling with pride. He knows the world can be a little much for someone as soft as you. It’s good to know that he’s the exception to all that. 

He gets lost in the way you look at him for a moment too long. He clears his throat and stammers, “Uh, do you still wanna go get food?” he asks, pointing off beside him. “We can find somewhere quiet to eat so we don’t have to deal with teenage douchebags the entire time.”

Your heart lurches into your throat. It’s practically your love language — spending time alone in a quiet space, with no overt need for conversation or people to fill the void. 

You nod, trying and failing to hide the beam on your face. “Yeah. That’d be nice.”

—————

The quiet place in question is a photo booth on the halfway vacant, furthest end of the mall. Closed curtains, small spaces, and entwined breaths. It smells like his deep cologne, your perfume, and a freshly cooked meal. It’s too easy to forget that there’s a whole world outside of here.

You sit twisted on the bench, facing Steve with your burger trays in front of you. You pluck salty fries from the plate with a trembling hand, distantly fearful that you’re not supposed to be eating here. You think being so close to Steve is worth the risk.

“Is this the day you were expecting to have?” Steve asks with a lopsided grin. He takes a big bite of his burger right after and gets mustard on the corner of his mouth.

“No,” you answer, giggling as he swipes the stain away with his tongue. “But not because it’s bad.”

“Hm?” he hums to egg you on. He’s got too much of a mouthful for anything else.

“Mm-mm,” you shake your head, equally nonverbal as you chew on a handful of fry crumbs. You swipe your palms together to dispel the grains of salt. “I’m having more fun than I thought I would, actually.”

Steve scoffs in disbelief. “Spending time with me? Alone in a photo booth? That’s a good time to you?”

His tone makes you self-conscious. You feel a little shameful, like a child, because you don’t need much to be entertained. You get all warm with embarrassment, too. Being alone with Steve has always felt like climbing mountains — something short of an adrenaline rush that makes you think you could conquer the world. Maybe you’re too small in comparison to do the same for him.

“Yeah,” you shrug in an inaudible murmur. “I don’t know— I just… I like spending time with you, you know? I don’t really care what we’re doing.”

Steve’s chest swells. From a girl who too often keeps to herself, inherently nervous and incessantly frightened of being a burden, it’s more of a proclamation of love than he ever thought he’d get from you.

“Well, I’m glad we’re on the same page,” he confesses with a crooked pink grin, internally praying his cheeks aren’t as red hot as they feel.

He holds his half-eaten burger out towards you. You knock yours with his, clinking them together like champagne glasses. He takes another too big bite. You go to do the same but get a whiff of the sleeve of your sweater before you can. 

“God, I smell like a teenage boy,” you groan, only half-playful. The nose-burning musk from the kid from before has seemingly stuck itself onto you. Like fruit and sage and wood and vanilla, every scent ever made combined.

“I wasn’t gonna say anything, but you definitely smell like bodyspray,” Steve affirms, scruffy cheeks jutted out from the burger in his mouth.

“I think I’ve been tainted,” you giggle, a quieter sound compared to his boyish laughter. “Thanks for saving me, by the way.”

You’re saying it to be nice, but you watch him get all shy about it when you take a bite of your sandwich. He shifts on the bench, like he suddenly can’t get comfortable. When he rubs his palms on his thighs, you can’t tell if it’s because of the salty fries or because they’re clammy.

“Yeah— I didn’t mean to— I didn’t mean to grab you like that,” he stammers with an apologetic twinkle in his eye and a gaze that can’t quite meet yours. “Just so you know. I was just trying to—”

“Save me?” you interject.

Steve smiles when he sees how softly you’re looking at him. He shrugs. “Well, I was gonna say ‘pull you from the line of fire,’ but sure.”

“It’s okay,” you repeat for perhaps the thousandth time that day. “I didn’t mind. It felt nice, actually— you have really warm hands.”

“That’s ‘cause yours are always ice cold.”

“Well, maybe that’s because you’re not holding them,” you blurt before you mean to. 

You freeze mid-bite, eyes wide in distant horror as your blood runs cold. In a desperate attempt to break away from the awkwardness you caused, you muster a trembling smile. “I’m kidding,” you murmur, halfway hidden behind your burger.

You weren’t.

Steve knows this, too, so he smiles. 

He’d been thinking about it all day, in truth — how he was gonna get to hold your hand without having to stick his foot in his mouth to ask you. Turns out, a series of unfortunate events and an impromptu date in a photo booth was all it took. And he’s grateful. For all of it.

“No, you weren’t,” he teases, fingers as warm as his smile when he wraps them around yours. He holds gently onto your hand — even though it makes eating a little harder, even though your fingers are cold, even though you tremble.

[flyingwargle]

august fanfic recommendations!

this is indeed going to be a series. check out july's recommendations!

(also, feel free to give me recs! i'm kind of picky, but i promise to look at what you suggest before adding it to my 80 tabs of fics hehe. rec your own fics if you want 😎)

some of these fics are rated e!

sakuatsu

Take My Hand (Take My Whole Life Too) t. 6.1k. sakusa gets hung up on the idea of indirect kissing and indirect hand holding and becomes enamored by the idea of holding atsumu's hand. lovely prose, sakusa is insane in this (affectionate) and atsumu is very loving.

Watching You for Love t. 6.6k. sakusa moonlights as a dj and atsumu finds him out. THIS FIC!! amazing prose and imagery, and sakusa falling for atsumu is also beautiful. please give it a shot <3

Hall Pass t. 6.8k. sakusa and atsumu discuss one another's hall passes and sakusa gets hung up on why atsumu's is saeko. i admit, i still don't know what a hall pass is despite reading this, but it depicts a somewhat jealous sakusa and saeko kissing atsumu, which is more than i could ever ask for.

atsumu, atsumu, let down your hair t. 7.1k. sakusa and atsumu move from fwb to being in a relationship but it's hard to be domestic after being physical. we love healthy communication in a relationship in this house.

the 28 postcards you left me t. 8.3k. after breaking up, atsumu leaves postcards for sakusa in animal crossing. this hurt to read, especially with how in love they were, until they weren't. there's a happy ending, though <3

The Jacket In Your Closet t. 8.6k. once upon a time, atsumu gave sakusa his newly purchased jacket because he saw him uncomfortable in a crowd. atsumu's forgotten about it but sakusa never did (and continues to have a crush on him).

stuck between a rock hard place, or something m. 10.4k. atsumu starts popping boners whenever sakusa opens his mouth. hilariously written and sweet <3 this made me so glad that i like girls because the way sakusa is described here is just. wow. he really is attractive. good for atsumu.

Situated Motionless in the Center of the Heavens t. 15.1k. "For a very long time, Atsumu could barely stand Sakusa. And can you really blame him? It’s Sakusa, the human equivalent of the feeling you get when you bite into a chocolate chip cookie and realize with profound disappointment that it’s actually oatmeal raisin instead." if that doesn't convince you, just know that atsumu is dense af but he ends up realizing his love in the end.

From Afar t. 17.4k. i could probably make a list of skts fics where sakusa has some kind of ability and intends to keep everyone at arm's length until miya atsumu ruins everything. the ability that sakusa has in this is unique and plays into his mysophobic tendencies beautifully. the way he and atsumu compromise with his gift is a delight as well. just beautifully written overall <3

Again, until it's perfect. t. 18.2k. sakusa and atsumu accidentally pull off a minus tempo quick and they start practicing it. i read this after situated motionless in the center of the heavens, and let me tell you - going from dense atsumu to dense sakusa is so, so good. they're so dumb, i love them /affectionate

One Track Mind m. 18.8k. suna and osamu publicly break up and sakusa is left wondering if it's a good time to tell atsumu that he loves him. hilarious, introspective, with some spice. a perfect blend for an excellent fic <3

In Pursuit of Happiness t. 19.1k. modern magic au where sakusa works at a magic shop after selling his happiness, and atsumu is a pest trying to make him feel happy again. lovely worldbuilding and slowburn!

Better Find Another Superstition t. 21.3k. 7/7. another modern magic au where sakusa and atsumu are forced to work together to resolve an issue with the city's magic supply. hilarious prose, and very light-hearted with a cool magic system in the background. one of my favorites <3

how can I not be moved (by you) t. 26.4k. 3/3. an achingly beautiful magic au where sakusa runs an apothecary and atsumu is a warlock. the worldbuilding is rich and the slow burn is delicious. absolutely beautiful and fluffy <3

pascal's wager t. 34.1k. 6/6. a sakusa character study and his obsession with superstition from atsumu's pov. beautiful writing, lovely wingmen to help atsumu (gourd bless osamu, akaashi, and bokuto) and lovely prose <3

the awful daring of a moment's surrender m. 34.2k. 7/7. in which sakusa lies to himself that he wants nothing with atsumu but atsumu is persistent. beautiful prose (i read so much of this writer's works, they're all so good) and lovely ending <3

Teach Me, Tune Me, Tempt Me e. 38.8k. 10/10. sakusa asks atsumu to teach him about the many firsts needed to enter his first relationship. oh, the pining, the angst, and of course the smut was on point.

sunaosa

working backwards till it rhymes t. 4.2k. gin congratulates suna and osamu on their anniversary, except they aren't dating. or are they? hilarious prose and premise, absolutely loved it.

reasons to microwave an elixir t. 8.2k. university au, modern magic au, roommates to lovers galore. i absolutely loved the prose and how sunaosa developed over the fic. definitely one of my favorites!

you never have to wander, wonder t. 22.6k. suna is the cameraman for the twins' buzzfeed-like worth it youtube series. lovely, lovely pining and prose.

iwaoi

What spring does with the cherry trees e. 7k. pwp with lovely prose and so much love between iwa and oikawa. reading it made me feel soft and fluffy.

galaxies, within you t. 21.1k. makki and mattsun are the absolute best in this. i love the seijoh4's banter and friendship, and how iwa and oikawa eventually confess their feelings for each other. the prose is hilarious and beautiful!

bokuaka

35mm t. 20.9k. 3/3. another fic where akaashi and bokuto slowly fall in love through high school but more movies, akaashi is a movie buff, and lovely prose <3

other

but i am strong (strong enough to carry him) t. 5.3k. atsumu gets a call that osamu has a breakdown and he, aran, and suna comfort him. a beautiful brotherly fic and the helping hands around osamu.

A Full Stomach g. 6.9k. kageyama notices that hinata is eating less and less these days and intervenes. hinata protection squad arise! so much fluff to the hurt, my son deserves everything that karasuno gives him <3

if it's me, it'll be okay t. 9.1k. yachi discovers she's aromantic and goes through it. also, she's best friends with sakusa and it's the best thing ever. a lovely exploration of aromanticism, please give it a shot <3

city's on fire t. 10.5k. cyberpunk au where the twins can hack into memories and rewrite them. the worldbuilding is unique and the twins' relationship is achingly tender but painful with a happy ending.

An Opponent Is Announced g. 13.1k. sakusa has no idea who oikawa is while the rest of the jnt does, hence commencing a (non-serious) investigation into him. love the character dynamics and plot, just a fun, light-hearted read.

a best man's worst problems t. 14.1k. kagehina. tsukishima is asked to be kageyama's best man at his wedding and to give a wedding speech. lovely outsider pov of kagehina's blooming relationship through the years from one very exasperated salty dinosaur.

Safe & Sound t. 17.3k. 5 times kitagawa daiichi ignored kageyama's suffering and 1 time karasuno didn't. oh boy, this hit me in the face with the ANGST and then the comfort. emotionally prepare yourself for this (i wasn't, and my heart shattered in a million pieces).

Common side effects m. 89.9k. 16/16. kuroken. THIS FIC WAS SO GOOD. kuroo is a depressed 30 year old reconnecting with kenma after 3 years of silence. it depicts the monotony and depression of adulthood so well, and the cast is so loving and supportive of kuroo while he was going through it. please give this a shot <3

[cityofmeliora]

Terzo mentioning Secondo 😎

Terzo mentioned Secondo many times during his first year as Papa, which gave us some insight into their relationship that i really love.

Secondo and Terzo learned music together. they were taught songs / trained for the band by their father, Nihil.

PAPA EMERITUS III: […] But this is something me and my brother were taught by our father. Believe me, there are worse fish in the sea. Yes– Papa’s papa. The grandpapa. You will meet him one day, I promise. And he told us, “As long as you have one thing, it’s okay, y'all. The whispering walls. The spirits around you. The darkness inside.” So he looked at us and said… You know what he said? “If you have ghosts…” Unholy / Unplugged - Baltimore, Maryland, USA (August 22, 2015)

when Secondo stepped down so Terzo could replace him as Papa, Secondo gave Terzo a lot of entertainer advice. he talked to Terzo about what it's like to be Papa, how a concert usually goes, what the audiences are like in different cities, etc.

PAPA EMERITUS III: I’ve heard from my brother that you are somewhat of a singing crowd. So you like singing, eh? That is fantastic because that is exactly what we’re gonna do right now. [...] So everybody knows the lyrics for this last song, huh? It’s a damn predictable band, always playing the last same song. I told him, but… apparently, it works. Sweden Rock Festival - Sölvesborg, Sweden (June 4, 2015)

PAPA EMERITUS III: Thank you. We are so happy that New York loves us, because we love New York a lot, too. We've had so many beautiful evenings here. Or at least my brother told me about them. He told me that New York has always been treating Ghost very, very well. And he said that, "Y'know, I'm giving it to you now. As much as I would like to keep them all –do them all– sometimes, there isn't just enough time to do everybody. You could do one, maybe two." […] Um. But he also told me something before he pissed off: "I'm giving you this now, and as long as you have your sanity, and you get a lot of the right claps –the claps you do want– you will be in a good place." But he also told me something useful. There's one thing that he gave me, and he said… "If you have ghosts…" Unholy / Unplugged - New York, New York, USA (August 23, 2015)

PAPA EMERITUS III: How are you doing tonight? It's been some time ago that Ghost was here last time, eh? Well, it was my brother at that point, but he told me you were a rocking crowd. Silver Spring, Maryland, USA (September 22, 2015)

it's so clear from the way he speaks that he and Secondo hang out and talk to each other a lot, but also Terzo can't stand him. typical brother behavior.

Terzo notes that Secondo is a lot more sexually active than him, emphatically replying "Yes." when someone in the audience calls Secondo a whore. Secondo has also apparently also given Terzo advice on how to pick up partners for hookups. 😂

AUDIENCE: I saw you got a little kid now, in Los Angeles! PAPA EMERITUS III: Oh, yes, yes. They have a tendency to pop up, ha. Yes. Maybe it's my brother's, I guess, because he has been around the block a few more times than I have. AUDIENCE: What a whore! PAPA EMERITUS III: Yes. Unholy / Unplugged - Baltimore, Maryland, USA (August 22, 2015)

PAPA EMERITUS III: I'm gonna need your assistance a little bit later, giving me some claps. [CLAPS HIS HANDS] Those kind of claps. AUDIENCE: If you want the claps, I know where you can go. If you want these claps. PAPA EMERITUS III: Alright. Yes, my brother has told me a few– he has given me a few tips. Unholy / Unplugged - Baltimore, Maryland, USA (August 22, 2015)

Terzo called Secondo an "imbecile" and "a fucking asshole" for his silly prank where he pretended to (badly) speak Swedish.

PAPA EMERITUS III: Thank you very much. OK. So! Let me bring you up to speed. That guy –my imbecile brother– has somehow fooled you into thinking he can speak some fucking Swedish– pidgin Swedish. No more of that! I do not speak Swedish, OK? Do we have an agreement with this, OK? Thank you very much, Lincopia… Let’s enjoy our first “Ritual” together now! Linköping, Sweden (June 3, 2015)

PAPA EMERITUS III: How are you doing? It's nice to see so many of you here. What has it been, a little over a year? My brother told me about you. And you do know that I'm not gonna trick you with any fucking pidgin Swedish, huh? I know he fooled you into believing he could talk. He sounded like a fucking asshole. Stockholm, Sweden (November 13, 2015)

Terzo also refers to Secondo as "my asshole of a brother".

PAPA EMERITUS III: [SEES A SECONDO COSPLAYER IN THE AUDIENCE] Very good work, my friend. Please give it up for Papa Emeritus II! Yes. My asshole of a brother! Baton Rouge, Louisiana, USA (April 27, 2016)

[resident-idiot-simp]

Wade and Laura just walking around the city while Logan is off doing something. Somehow if left together they make eachother so much worse in all the worst ways.

Wade is using her to answer questions like how much force does it take to cut threw *insert thing* or how long does it take to shred *insert item*. Laura goes along with it because she doesn't know either. It becomes an experiment for them.

Both throwing out ideas and testing them like it's it faster to climb with her claws or to just make leaps up before catching herself and jumping again. This also helps her with fighting because now she knows specifics thanks to Wade. She knows exactly what it takes to do whatever it is she's trying to.

They test the best way for her to block bullets if she chooses to. It's not as easy since she's missing the middle claw on her hands that's for sure. He also tries to in part on her his own weird fighting style. He tells her that being unpredictable was one of the best traits you can have.

You can't be anticipated if they don't know you're going to do. She has a tendency to just lunge which works but it might not work for everything. She already has a lot of the acrobatics that he has so there Is it much to touch there.

If any time in their spars she gets tripped up by him he'll explain exactly what he did and where she went wrong. Every time she beats him he cheers.

Logan has many a times found them testing things or sparing and had just sighed.

The people of the city also have opinions on them. By far they are the worst to run into because Logan is their impose control. Wade and Laura will harass random assholes out and about simply because they can. I mean what can that random person do to them?

People have tried to fight them before but quickly flee when a punch gets caught and their arm gets twisted. They usually gather a crowd as the walk the streets and become general nuances.

[babydollisdead]

A MOMENT OF FATE - JAYCE X READER

Contains: Fluff, g/n reader, use of Y/N

Warnings: None

Summary: On the most hectic day of the year for Piltover, Progress Day, you accidentally bump into Jayce while trying to make it back to your home, the Undercity.

You weave through the busy streets of Piltover. Vendors line up the walkways, and the whole overall feel of the city is festive.

Well, it’s extremely annoying for someone like you. It just makes it harder to get to the different carts!

Every Progress Day, you come up to the top city and steal stuff from vendors and locals. Nobody is paying attention, and you always get good stuff.

The only thing is that your parents hate the fact that you do this. Granted, it is dangerous considering all the enforcers around.

And how they have a tendency for hating your kind.

But it’s beneficial! Your family doesn’t exactly have a lot of.. anything. You usually sell or keep the things you find to other Zaunites to get some cash.

Plus, the rush of pick pocketing a Piltie, or swiping something off a vendor’s cart is pretty fun.

A small grin is on your face as you currently stuff some of the items you have into your messenger bag. You stick out like a sore thumb, your clothes and appearance contrasting the surrounding light colors of attire and rich looks around you.

It used to make you insecure, but you couldn’t care less now… at least that’s what you tell yourself.

All lost in your thoughts, per usual, you end up knocking into someone while you were trying to zip up your bag.

You slip and trip onto the floor, all your stuff falling out of your bag. “Ow.” You whine, a small huff of annoyance leaving your lips.

Rookie mistake. Why would you look down while walking in a crowded area?!

You look around to find your victim, and end up locking eyes with a man in front of you.

Your eyes widened a bit.

He was a bit tan, with dark hair and light brown eyes. Muscular too. You could tell he was a Piltie by his clothes.

That made you roll your eyes.

“A-ah! I’m so sorry.” The guy speaks quickly, scrambling to his knees to try and help pick up “your” stuff.

You quickly swat his hands away. Undercity reflexes. Don’t let anyone’s paws on your items.

“It’s fine. Just watch it next time, Piltie.” You say, stuffing all your goodies back into your bag.

The guy looks embarrassed, and maybe a little guilty too.

“Right.. uh sorry again.” He says. Just by that, you know he’s gonna try and make some small talk to compensate.

You look up at him, a bored look on your face. He gives you a nervous smile before speaking. “How has your Progress Day been so far?”

“Couldn’t care less about the whole ordeal.” You muttered out coldly. The guy nods awkwardly. “You’re from the Undercity, aren’t you?”

You quirk an eyebrow up. “What made it obvious? My “sketchy” appearance? Or what? You could just tell I was one of the “bad” ones? You know, you guys are all the same-“

The guy cuts you off. “Uh.. no. Just.. you all usually have more colorful clothing? I guess everyone in Piltover just wears the same color pallets. You don’t.” He spoke, reaching his hand out and gently brushing it against the shoulder of your shirt.

The action stuns you a little, not expecting such.. decency from him. “Oh.” You spoke, looking down at yourself. You come back to your sense and shoo his hand away.

The way he flinches back and clears his throat shows he probably wasn’t too aware of his own actions as well.

“I’m Jayce, by the way.” He speaks, being ever so friendly. He holds his hand out. You give him a look, before slowly reaching your own hand out and lightly shaking it.

“Right.. I’m Y/N.” You replied, pulling your hand away. He gives you a small smile. For some odd reason, you find yourself wanting to continue the conversation.

“I saw in your bag when all the stuff fell you had snacks from Mr. Caddel.” You followed Jayce’s head nod, looking at the older man’s cart. It was surrounded by a few people buying things.

You hated the fact he put a name to the face you shamelessly stole from. You fidget with the strap of your messenger bag. “I used to go to the shop he owns as a kid and get food all the time. It’s pretty good.” Jayce speaks with a chuckle.

You nod. “Um.. yeah. In Zaun, we have a variation of that. I used to get it on special occasions when my parents could afford it.” You chuckled in a self deprecating way.

Jayce looked a bit pitiful and you cleared your throat quickly to rid away any of that. “S-so, you must be hot shit, huh?” You point to one of the blimps in the sky. His face was on it.

He laughed and shrugged, a sheepish smile on his face. “I guess to Piltover I would be. I have this speech later for Hextech. I am.. extremely nervous.” He chuckled nervously.

You gazed up at him, a small hum leaving your lips. “Well, just remember all the people in the crowd like you.” You spoke. He tilted his head a bit in thought. “It’s not like you’re gonna be speaking in front of a bunch of people who hate you. They are there to see you give the speech, you know.”

He furrows his eyebrows a bit. “That’s actually.. not a bad idea.” He says. You grin and nod. “Yep. Look at me. Saving your poor nervous self.”

He laughs at that, and you feel an odd flutter in your heart.

But.. you also notice you’re getting way too comfortable with someone from the Topcity. From Piltover. Which will never work in your benefit.

You adjust your bag on your shoulder.

“I should get going. My mom is probably freaking out wondering where I am right now.” You snicker a little at the thought. She’s definitely busting into every bar in Zaun.

Jayce almost looks disappointed, but he masks it with a small smile. “Right. It was nice meeting you. I hope I changed your mind at least a little about Progress Day?” He has a hopeful grin on his face.

You roll your eyes, but a smile appears on your own lips. “I’m your dreams, Piltie.” He chuckles a little. “I hope i’ll see you around, Y/N.” You like the way your name sounds coming from him.

You give him a small nod and wave, before parting ways. Jayce walks a few steps, before looking back. All he sees is crowd, and he wonders how you could’ve disappeared so fast.

He shakes his head a little, the whole experience barely feeling real. He regrets not asking more about you. It’ll gnaw at him for the rest of his life now. He knows there is a high chance he’ll never see you again.

And he’ll think that fact is true for him.

But later that day, in the huge crowd in front of that stage, your hood is pulled up to cover yourself.

You gaze up at it as Jayce walks out, and you smile lightly.

The lights hit his face just right and you fear you might never be able to stay away now.

[the-once-ler-in-superjail]

CHAPTER 36: The Asylum - Part 2

Finally here, sorry this one took so long, we both got really busy this time but it's here!

Lineart/cleanup, flats & writing- @wiggybe

Layout/roughs, shading/lighting & writing- @self-made-madman

(TW: Mental illness/health/asylums.)

PART2

Once-ler: *He holds the Warden in his arms, relieved to have another moment alone with him, knowing that they're going to get out of here and that people are following his orders. At least he can have his glasses, they're just glasses, prisoners get to wear their glasses because they're visually impaired, this should be no different. He sniffs and wipes his tears with his hand, whispering.* I love you too. *Kisses the Warden's head and sighs out, hooking his chin over his head and bundling him up in his arms.* You're going to be okay, we- we're going to get you out. *He can't let him down.*

Warden: *His eyes shut, and as he floats in the vague numbness of what's been done to him, he absorbs all of Oncie's love, the feeling of his arms, the scent of his clothes and the way his voice vibrates through his chest. It helps to calm him, more than anything else ever could, but there's an instinctive part of him ready to have it all ripped away.*

Dr. Zazzerzump: *She strides straight into the room and states in a simple, curt voice.* Mr. Once-ler. *She has the air of a headteacher who won't be suffering nonsense, but because she isn't a blustering, loud older man, and hasn't brought the chaos of a crowd with her, she doesn't cause the same flinching reaction in the Warden as everything else. To him, this is just one more thing to trust Oncie to handle for him.*

Once-ler: *Pulls his head back from his boyfriend and looks over to the new doctor walking into the room. He knows this lady to be the woman in charge here. Good, that means he can sort this out properly rather than having to slap drones around. He doesn't get up though; he won't leave Edmund unless it's necessary, and he doesn't care how he looks holding him. If anything it only shows that he means the man no harm and that they do share a relationship.* Hm. *His eyes meet hers and he lets out an acknowledging grunt.* Doctor... *He looks her up and down as for a moment her name escapes him, but he does know all the names in charge of his cities' institutions.* Doctor Zazzerzump. *That's the one. He frowns, glancing around at the other nurses as they follow in behind her as if he's pretending to wonder where the Warden's glasses are, like he's making a point. Two male doctors join also, including Snickberry-Shoo, who all keep their distance.* Thank you. I requested the nurses bring this man’s glasses to me, where are they?

Dr. Zazzerzump: *Her eyes flit to the way the Once-ler is holding the patient only once, to take in the information and judge it. It's inappropriate, maybe, but it is proof that they know each other. Or proof that the patient has been so well-drugged that he doesn't know what's happening. Well, the Once-ler is a sane man, so it's presumably the first one. And yet, policy is policy for a reason.* The patient is in here because he proved to be a danger to himself and others. We can arrange for his glasses to be reconsidered, but he cannot have them back just because you asked... *She searches for a word that isn't rude.* 'nicely'. I will have the administrators put in a request, and he will be re-evaluated for his tendencies.

Warden: *He curls tighter, pushing his bare face against the Once-ler's chest so he doesn't have to see the world without his filter.*

Once-ler: *Feels a spike of adrenaline in his chest when he's refused, the thought of having to wait making his frustration build all over again.* That's not soon enough. Can't you make an exception?! Look at him, he needs them. Even prisoners don't have their own glasses confiscated. What could be so bad about him having his when I can supervise?

Dr. Zazzerzump: They could break - he could break them - and then we have glass shards, sharp wire, and an unpredictable man in the same room. The hospital would be liable if any harm came to either of you, even - *she anticipates the potential solution he might offer* if you were to sign a waiver. I'm afraid your friend must follow the rules like everyone else in the secure wing - no special treatment. But we can have him seen by our resident optician if necessary.

Once-ler: You’re already causing harm to him by treating him like this. *Breathes in a sharp, frustrated breath as he clutches onto Edmund harder. He knew these were the reasons. He doesn't care. Edmund is more dangerous to himself without the glasses. Besides, it’s not like he isn’t already drugged up to his eyeballs, bound in a straight-jacket, and not being watched over by a sensible and powerful man.* Don't you have security cameras here for the same reason? Just keep a closer eye on him for god sake! *He knows that what he's asking is exactly special treatment, but why shouldn't he? Parole exists so that those facing trial can pay to be in a comfortable environment while they wait. He raises an eyebrow.* I'll sign whatever the hell you like, if any harm came to either of us I'd take that responsibility on myself and see to it that no repercussions fall on the hospitals reputation. I can do that. *He tilts his head to the other side, frowning harder.* On the other hand, however, I can't promise the same should my requests be refused. *Hisses as one hand releases Edmund to slip into an inner pocket inside his jacket to fine his cheque book.* Fuck sake, how much do you want for them? *Looks at her like she just personally hurt him* He’s not dangerous, not with me and not right now, look at him. I’ll pay you extra if we could just arrange to have him monitored so that he can have what he really nee-

Dr. Zazzerzump: I cannot be bought, Mr. Once-ler. *As corruptible as the bribe of money can make people, sometimes those with the a more selfish agenda than just greed can be more malicious.* *She doesn’t care for money, she cares for maintaining an old archaic institute that she holds power over. Taking small wins, keeping control over anyone in her immediate vicinity, and insisting on her old fashioned ideals. And it just so happens the vulnerable patients in this place make those objectives a lot easier. She remains totally unmoved, as cold as steel, although she does for a moment feel a skip in her chest at the thought of more money towards their operations here. Still, she will have no preferential treatment for the wealthy or connected, even if the town's founder himself starts writing a check. She doesn’t quite realise that anyone, poor or wealthy, known or noone, would be willing to give up everything in their possession for the people they love. She holds a fundamental belief, a false ‘moral’ virtue about herself, that those of the mentally impaired are a danger to be hidden rather than human beings to be treated, despite having little to no modern research supporting her biases. There is no grey area that could suggest that the pain of others might warrant an empathetic reconsideration of the ‘rules’, she just holds onto these old ideas being ‘correct’. It’s as if Thneedville, and the people in it, are a product of a time where mindsets like this were the modern standards.* As I said, we cannot sign our duty of care away.

Warden: *He shifts, yielding as easily as a doe when Oncie's hand releases him to pull out his cheque book, but never stops gripping onto him. It's all going over his head, whoever that voice belongs to. Oncie is fighting a battle above the surface of the water while he sinks down below, and all he can do to avoid going (further) mad with fright is to hold on and make sure he never leaves him by himself. Right now the world is very simple - everything outside of their arms wants to hurt him or worse, abandon him to his own mind. Everything inside their arms is safe and loves him.*

Once-ler: *Sneers at her through his teeth in a low voice.* Ev-ery-thing can be bought. *He lets her speak, and as she does, he removes his thneed from his neck as if he's already made up his mind about something, not needing to hear the rest of it- because one can’t reason with a person who’s already accepted their own world view as fact. One can’t engage debate, even the most civil, with a person who has already made up their mind. The only thing that matters now is protecting his own pack. Something about the way this woman speaks is making it both harder for him to breathe the fire he usually does and at the same time makes him want to burn it all down with even more fury than when he spoke to the previous doctor. It isn't just a bigger dog biting at a smaller yappy dog, it's a fox VS a snake, both fighting for the fallen rabbit, and he's met a snake like this before. Thankfully the two women are nothing alike, but that doesn't stop the vitriolic, rebellious feeling in his gut needing to prove her wrong. He hisses again, almost scoffing at the irony of her words.* Your ‘duty of care’… *He glances to the Warden in sympathy, then back to her with far less.* Why is he so out of his mind?

Dr Zazzerzump: *Adjusts her glasses.* Is that a trick question, Mr Once-ler? All of the patients here are ‘out of their mind’, that’s what this place is for. We haven’t begun analysis or treatment on this particular patient yet, but he’s here for a reason-

Once-ler: That’s not what I meant! *He steams. Treatment of this sort has nothing to do with the rationality of the person involved, they shouldn’t be strapped up, sedated, and left in a cold corner for someone to find them- if someone ever comes to find them- without sympathetic care.* I meant why is he so sedated? Why is he all drugged up out of his mind?

Dr Zazzerzump: He was acting out, Mr Once-ler. a danger to everybody. We sedate all of our patients. It makes them feel better and it makes it easy for us to handle them and treat them. *Of course, she has no understanding of how these patients might truly feel, she’s just trying to come across as caring to hide that all she really cares about is the efficiency of her control here.*

Once-ler: *He almost screams out lout to her; ‘Even when he’s already in a straightjacket?!’ But he doesn’t, it wouldn’t help. He looks down at Edmund who can barely hear this conversation through water, he just knows Oncie is there somewhere and is trying to protect him, but if the man wasn’t here then the confusion would only be making him panic more as he looses an extra layer of stability and understanding.* He’s not comfortable at all, he doesn’t feel better at all, he’s scared. *Maybe he was being a menace, maybe he did deserve to be brought somewhere, but then shouldn’t he have been brought to a jail cell for disorderly conduct? Somewhere he can be held for safety reasons, call someone he knows, speak to a lawyer and at least be reviewed before taken to an asylum? Who authorised that he be brought here? Were they called before the police and just snapped him up to fill one of their patient cells?… He had no idea this sort of conduct was going on here, in his own city. This is old, archaic stuff. For as abstract as Thneedville is, sometimes he does feel that it’s oddly stuck in the 1970’s, as if it’s a product of a mind that’s frame of reference is a world straight out of the late 60’s. Maybe after all of this is over he really should review this place top to bottom officially and write up a report, not just because he’s been personally hurt by it and it’s employees, but because there might be things here he’s not looked at, that could seriously do with reforming.*

Dr Zazzerzump: *Says nothing. She hasn't spared a second glance at Edmund, she's been too busy watching the angry man making his demands and she clearly has no intention of treating these patients like human beings.* If you have no further requirements, I shall leave you two in peace. Visiting hours close at 6.

Once-ler: *Almost hisses at the way she ignores his genuine concerns.* That’s it? That’s all you’re going to say?! *He huffs, and in a sweep of his tailcoats, he turns back to the Warden and strides strictly over to him. He glares over his shoulder to the doctor.* I’m not going anywhere, I’m staying here with him.

Dr Zazzerump: *Suddenly spikes. He can’t stay here! That’s an obstacle between herself and the power she holds over everyone in the place.* Visiting hours close at 6 Mr-

Once-ler: I heard you! And I don’t care. If you won’t let me take him out then I have no other option than to stay with him overnight while I make preparations to have him removed.

Dr Zazzerzump: *Sneers* Mr Once-ler if you do not leave, I will have to have you removed by security.

Once-ler: *Turns around and folds his arms.* Who do you think your security is funded by? Who do you think your very institute is funded by? *He squints and tilts his head.* The Thneedville government? *He scoffs at her*. You think your governments have more power than corporations? Where did you hire your security, from the government or from a company?

Dr Zazzerzump: *Remains quiet and clenches her jaw.*

Once-ler: That’s what I thought. *He tilts his head to the door.* Go on, call them, tell them to remove me… If you really think they’ll listen to your orders over mine. *Fine. He’ll play her games of ‘procedure’ and ‘protocol’, she can make this harder for him as much as she wants, that doesn’t mean she’s going to enjoy it.*

Dr Zazzerzump: *Her icy demeanour starting to crack, she tries to hold herself together, keep her composure, refrain from forming shaking fists with her hands at her sides. By the second, the Once-ler is revealing to her what little power she has, despite her doing her best to hold onto it.* Fine. *He hisses under her breath.*

Once-ler: *Turns his back to return to the Warden.* You understand then. Good. I’ll stay here with him for as long as I need. *He won’t leave until Edmund is in his custody, until he can take him out of this dreadful place. Every part of him just wants to drag him our right now, hire his own security, pay theirs off, rip him out of the straight jacket and take him home, but the amount of chaos that that would cause in both the short and long term just isn’t worth the trauma that it’d have on Edmund. For one thing he’d need to leave him to get it all done that fast, and he couldn’t bear to leave him with them- who knows what they would do while he’s unsupervised? The manic of all the action and panic could have a terrible effect on him, while doctors are grabbing at them, large security men are shouting and the Thneedville public are watching him like a spectacle. It’d be cruel to drag him through that. It’d also cause more problems in the long term for them both if if he acted so unofficially. The best thing he can do is be sensible and assertive, plan his escape right by his side, make sure it’s as easy as it can be, and never leave him alone so long as he’s still in here. He’ll need important files and equipment to do it, and that’ll take time to arrange that if he wants to stay with him the whole time, but it can be achieved. Anything can be achieved by the Once-ler. He leans down by his boyfriend and tucks the thneed into Edmund's bound arms across his front so that he can hide his face in it. He leans into his ear.* I'm not going anywhere. *He straightens up and turns to the doctors, standing between them and Edmund and acting as a barrier while looking incredibly tall at his full height and the extra tower of his hat.*

Warden: *He curls up when Oncie gives him the thneed, and the scent of butterfly milk and truffula tufts proves to the animal in the back of his mind that he's still safe. Still, he shivers when he feels Oncie pull away, and buries himself in the fluff, focusing on the gentle way Oncie spoke to him as his sluggish mind tries to hold on to whatever it can through the grey and depressing mire. He doesn't even remember what he did to deserve being locked up in here.*

Once-ler: I didn't get to where I am today, to owning all of your jobs today, under the false idea that 'not everything can be bought'. *His hand forms a fist by his side, the other one pointing a sharp finger.* I've been nice, I’ve played your game, now you're gonna listen to me. This man is leaving this building no later than tomorrow.

Dr Zazzerzump: *Opens her mouth to speak*-

Once-ler *His index finger and thumb pinch together before anyone can interject, as if making a ‘zip it’ gesture.* I don't wanna hear anymore goddamn bullshit recited from ancient documents! You can either make this easier for me or you can make it harder on yourselves, either way I'm getting what I want. I don't care what strings I have to pull, he's leaving tomorrow. You wanna know why? Because if you won't comply, then I can have all of you replaced with people who will by just making three phone calls. So it makes no difference to me other than the fact you're wasting my time!

[The nurses behind the head Dr Zazzersump and take a step back, they straighten up with a spike of adrenaline in their chests, listening to the orders like soldiers. Dr Zazzerzump blinks at him, momentarily surprised and panic setting in at that threat, which quickly turns into cold anger to hide it. She looks around her staff and can feel her own sense of control slowly crumble as the medical teams have their attention stolen away from her by the Once-ler. The man has always been very good at claiming almost anything as his own.]

Once-ler: *Starts to count on his fingers. Without shouting, now sounding more like a very strict, growling army general. Suddenly they all feel like they work for him.* I want his discharge signed. I want his duty of care handed to me. I want his clothes ready. I want him off whatever shit you've been shoving down his throat. I want his goddamn glasses! And I want it all done by 3pm tomorrow because that's how fast it will take me to fuck up your whole system here and make it mine. *If he were an animal, the hackles of his fur would be rising and his teeth would be bearing, the gruffness of his voice growling through with that last word.* Every single one of you is going to be bought because all of these procedures you're following can be bought, so you better not waste any of my goddamn time once I slam that gavel down onto your precious procedures and shove them in my back pocket! *Points a finger towards each of them.* Get it all done by 3pm tomorrow and not a second later, because The Once-ler will not be late.

[The frightened shocked doctors and nurses behind Dr Zazzersump all stare at her with gormless speechlessness. They’re ready to skitter away and do everything he’s asked without question, because, SHIT, they need to get on this fast to have it all ready by tomorrow. Dr Zazzerzump herself is sweating, and every bitter bone in her body wishes she wasn’t. How dare he turn the tables on them and make such unrealistic demands with such a short deadline, they’d have to drop everything to get this done by then.]

Dr. Zazzerzump: *She attempts to straighten up at the same rate that the Once-ler rises, meeting his eyes and paying cold attention but not interrupting him now he’s on a roll. She holds rigid against his threats and swallows, but as she notices her staff becoming more restless at the mention of procedures and paper work, she can’t find a reason to oppose it. What he's asking for is technically reasonable, if unorthodox, so he’s trapped her in a dead end, all her talk of procedures turned back on her, and thrown the threat of a deadline at them all. Thank god that it is reasonable though, in the tightest possible way of tip-toeing around all the orthodox rules, because by this point not even she wants to deal with what wrath he might bring if she refuses him again. At the end of the day, he owns this town more than anyone else, more than she owns this asylum- regrettably.*

Warden: *He hears a man yelling, and like a dreamstate he simultaneously recognises the voice as his Oncie, and expects it to belong to a very different, much more violent man - because that's the man who would normally be in a locked cell like this with him unable to fight back. It’s confusing as his hearts instinct battles his learned neurological instinct. He curls further, clenching his eyes shut even tighter and reminding himself beneath all the numb and rubbery haze that Oncie is protecting him, Oncie will come for him, and that despite the sound of that powerful voice reminding him of things more dangerous, maybe it’s only so powerful because for once it’s actually protecting him. It does sound a lot like his strong Oncie after all. He’s safe.*

Once-ler: *Pulls in a deep breath and grabs the lapels of his jacket, pulling on them to straighten them. Clears his throat.* I will stay with him here overnight, I will keep the button alarm on me should I need to make anymore requests, no-one is to come near him unless it's for very specific medical reasons I'm unqualified to perform. Food, drink, medication, cleaning, anything else will all be handled by myself, and I want him weaned off the medication ASAP. *He raises an eyebrow.* You better hurry up then.

[The nurses scatter like a flock of pigeons, forgetting for a moment that Dr Zazzerzump needed to give an official before they can, but the Once-ler is right, they do need to hurry up if they want it all done on time. They need to turn the place upside down to avoid his wrath if he’s ready to leave tomorrow at 3pm and they’re late for it. How can the man work so fast when there’s only one of him and he can’t leave a cell? They have an entire team of people but they’re the ones frantically panicking for a deadline.)

Dr Zazzerzump: *Behind her, the doctors and nurses have backed off skittishly and darted off to work, trapped between the demands of two different dangerous animals who could both ruin their lives if they make a wrong move, but the bigger one clearly won. After a pause to collect her thoughts, Dr. Zazzerzump clears her throat and raises her hand to them. They’ve already made up their minds who they’re taking orders from now, but she throws out an official instruction, just to maintain a semblance of composure.* *Clears her throat.* Yes!- Mh.. Do as he says. For 3pm tomorrow.

*They scatter out of the door like spilled marbles, leaving the two alone. Then Dr. Zazzerzump continues.*

Dr. Zazzerzump: *Bitterly* The medication is a temporary sedative; it will wear off by morning and I shall make a note that no further doses will be required. There will be a nurse on call to arrange for overnight accommodations. *Grimaces, but tries to maintain professional. The decision has already been made now, all she can do is go along with it and appear as reasonable as she can to avoid receiving that harsh report.* Should you require anything further, the staff will assist you. Is that everything, Mr. Once-ler?

Once-ler: *Finally seems like he might consider withdrawing his claws the moment people start following his orders, especially when the woman confirms it to her staff. The fact that she doesn’t even question his power, influence or ability to have everything done by tomorrow in order to take Edmund out, goes a long way to placating him. He’d have really started ruining lives, he doesn’t care who the head doctor in this place is, if she’d said something like ‘we can’t guarantee, sir, that the changes you claim to make will be completed by then, if at all, and so signing documents and making preparations for rules that aren’t already in place would be a misdirection of time as well as possibly setting us up for illegal- blah blah blah.’ Good thing they all know when they’re in the jaw of the lion.* Yes. You can leave us alone.

*Dr Zazzerzump leaves with a slight twist in her expression, letting out a silent frustrated, but almost relieved that it’s over, sigh of relief. As she and the rest of the staff move away down the corridor and the door swings shut with a heavy thunk, she can be heard issuing clipped commands to everyone else. She tries not to rush too much, because rushing tends to make mistakes, but these things will move quick.*

Once-ler: *When everyone leaves and they’re finally left in private again, he turns back to Edmund, curled up on the floor, and all the anger sighs out of him (at least for now). Drops back down to his knees and leans over him, places his hand on his shoulder.* Edmund…? *His eyebrows knot up.* Edmund it’s me, they’re all gone.

Warden: *He pulls slightly tighter around himself when he feels the pressure of someone's footsteps on the floor beside him. The pressure on his shoulder doesn't make him jump - it can't – but he feels a spike of fear, in automatic self defence he tries to strike like a cornered rat and bite the hand. In reality though, he just manages to turn slowly and gasp. And then Oncie speaks, and he forgets everything except that his knight in shining armour is here.*

Warden: *He cracks open his eyes and looks up at Oncie, his brow creased with worry, desperate to get himself moving enough to talk but unable to force it.* O-okay. *He needs those bright blue eyes so much, but they're so bright he can barely look at them. His pupils visibly shrink against them. He shuts his eyes tight again with distress, hating the grey and how close he is to everything terrible around him.*

*This is so much. The cogs in his brain try to turn, and he thinks that he wants to break the bad feelings with a joke, or a flippant comment - it's not a conscious thought, but it's what the instincts in him tell him to do. He forces himself to speak again, his voice a hushed whisper.* ...I’m s- I'm really... Really scared.

Once-ler: *Sees the way Edmund almost tries to flinch and his eyebrows knot up harder. He can't even protect himself, it's so sad. Then that recognition comes and he swallows, his stomach fluttering with sad little butterflies but fluttering nonetheless.* I- I know, I know you are. *Sighs out and immediately drops down to wrap his arms around him and bundle him up again. He knew he'd get nowhere asking for them to release him from the straight jacket, not if they won’t even let him have his glasses because he's too unpredictable apparently. He was hoping he might be able to fumble with it himself once alone, but as he hugs him and feels around the back of it, he feels the padlocks and realises that not just anyone outside of the wrapped patient himself is free to mess with it. He mentally sighs, but just becomes more kind and gentle in response.* It's okay if you're scared. *His voice becomes thick but he holds himself together.* It's okay, but you don't have to be scared now, because- because I'm here s- so you're safe, and nothing is going to hurt you or scare you anymore. *Cups his hand around the back of his head and pulls him into his shoulder, and plants a long pressed kiss into his head.*

Warden: *His arms shuffle what little they can in an unconscious attempt to reach out and hold onto Oncie, but the best he can do is curl up as close as he can into the hug. Eyes shut, surrounded by his scent, he listens to the words and slowly translates them - he has to wait for each word to pop into meaning like bubbles from the ocean floor. His body relaxes a little bit, unable to protect himself anymore - no powers, no strength, not even his special filter that means nothing is real and nothing really matters. Suddenly everything matters, and it all wants to hurt him. Except Oncie. He's still here, he didn't leave forever. He sniffs, still tearful, and nuzzles into his shoulder and the thneed still tangled up between them. That kiss sends a wave of relief and love through him, and he realises without surprise that he's crying again. He shuffles again against the jacket, not enough to be considered 'a struggle', but miserably testing what it is. In a slightly thicker voice of his own, he asks,* What did I do? *He's obviously in trouble, he obviously did something, because he's in prison. If he wasn't so addled he'd be mad on his own behalf and flailing about it again, but all he can figure right now is that everyone's upset with him except Oncie, and that doesn't feel great.*

Once-ler: *Opens his eyes wide when he's asked what he did wrong, and he doesn't know how to answer. Even if the Warden wasn't sedated and put up a good fight, he'd crack eventually. He might go feral for a bit, but these people are… ‘trained’ to handle a dangerous, damaged psych patient like him. He's the Warden to himself, he's The Once-ler's soulmate to the man holding him, but the reality is that to them he's just another severe case like so many other names on a list and fading faces in the facility rooms. Their treatment of him is completely wrong, but he’s not a stable man, that’s the reality, and right now there's a lot of reality, there isn't a lot of Edmund. A runt might try to put up a good fight with it's teeth and it's ratty snarls, but in the end it'll still drop down under the teeth of a dog bigger and scarier than it, when it’s adrenaline has worn off and it knows it can’t put up a fight, when it's instincts tell it how small it really is and that it should just conserve it's energy and lie down. Edmund, at his heart, is a meek man. The thought of him being lost here, hiding fearfully in the corner of a room away from the dogs that beat the defences out of him, just like his father did, is the worst nightmare he ever could have conjured up.*

Once-ler: *His arms grip around him tighter, tighter than the jacket, and the way he feels him weakly squirm makes his heart break. He pulls back just enough to see his face, hand still cupping the back of his head, so it isn't heavy for Edmund to hold up.* Ohh... *His eyebrows knot.* It was just... *He doesn't even know what to say. He glances down his body and starts to shuffle them so they can rest against the wall in the corner of the room where it's most secluded.* You must be cold, let me help. *He shuffles up into the corner, carrying his boyfriend slowly with him, and takes the thneed back. He lets him rest between his legs against his front while he stretches out the thneed and turns it into a blanket. His heart is pounding and he's trying to swallow down an emotional lump, then he lays the thneed blanket over Edmund and then shuffles out of his own green tailcoat and lays that over him too to create a second, heavier layer to keep the warmth in. Pressed between Oncie's front, then the thneed and Oncie's weighted jacket, he wraps his arms around him and hugs him to his chest.* There. There, that's better.

Warden: *When Oncie cups his face, he looks up into his eyes as best he can and tries to understand what he did. Deep down, beneath all of his delusions, the current sedatives, the self-denial and the fantasies, he knows he's doing bad things. But if he didn't do those bad things, he'd be doing something even worse by letting down the terrible spirit of his father. To be good he has to be a good prison warden, and a good prison warden is vicious, cruel and controlling. But, because he's always been an empathetic baby, he knows that to be vicious, cruel and controlling makes people hate you and makes you a bad person. He can't win. There is no condition where everyone likes him and is pleased with him, so the only conclusion he has ever been able to come to is that he's just an inherently bad human being. But that's okay if he's louder than everyone else, insists to everyone else that he isn’t until he’s *delusional*, and tries to make them happy occasionally by making things fun. That's why he includes the prisoners in his science fairs and vacations and car races – bad, boring wardens wouldn’t do that, right?*

 *His expression breaks, tears filling his eyes as his mouth quivers and devastation spreads across his features. When he was a little boy, the scariest thing in the world was the thought of being abandoned for being bad. Now, here, it feels like reality itself is doing just that - he's been shoved out the way and left behind. He clamps up and tries not to make a sound, in case that's bad too.*

*He's completely pliable as Oncie moves them, trying to help but he can only move his legs and he can't move them much. When they settle, though, and he's covered in layers of warm weight and held all tightly in his protector's arms, reality feels that bit further away and he remembers that he's not been abandoned. Not fully, not by everyone.* *With a little bleat, he nods. It is better. His bare feet push against the cold floor beneath the blankets so that he's pushed against Oncie's front.* *After a moment, he finds the words to say.* Whatever I did... I- I didn't mean to... *That's a lie. But he'd do anything to be kept.*

Once-ler: *Feels his heart break when he sees the tears and tries to catch them with his thumb as he cups his cheek. He hugs him to his front, treasuring him like he's the only teddy-bear his parents have ever been able to afford, and clinging to him like a child hiding from the shadows in a wardrobe. Gasps at his words and whispers.* You didn't- It was an accide- it was a mistake- *He feels distinctly, innocently, devastated and sick to his stomach with guilt and worry, in an almost confused way that a juvenile would. As if he's at fault of doing something so bad to the younger kid living next door, who he often goes out to play with, but it's also his responsibility to take care of. But this time he convinced him to jump into the lake, climb too far up a tree, go too close to a wild animal, and it's his fault now that something terrible happened to him, and he's terrified of being told off by both their mom’s. So he just hides in the woods with him, trying to fix it and not knowing how, and just telling him that he's okay and everything will be fine, but he also feels sick with horror. His voice breaks.* But- but I'm going to fix it- I will! I'll fix it!

*He gasps as tears form in his own eyes and he curls around him. He's letting him down, he can't do anything right, he can't even get him out of this place in a city that be basically owns.* I- I'm so sorry- It's my fault. *His expression breaks down and he pulls him to his front, hooking his head over his shoulder and shaking it with guilt. He's useless. He can't even protect him from his own damn city.* I'm sorry, I'm s- so, so sorry, Edmund. I'm so sorry.

Warden: *He nuzzles against him, drying his tears on Oncie's front and pressing against him for safety until his muscles start to soften - he can't keep the effort up for very long, but he always stays hugged up in his arms. He lets out a soft hiccup when he hears that it was an accident, or a mistake, whatever it was. He can't remember how he ended up here - every memory is fuzzy and indistinct like a dream that fades faster the more he tries to grasp for it - but at least Oncie doesn't blame him. Right now that's the very final thing that matters, like the last star still burning in the sky. Everything else has failed, but Oncie is always there, and he never leaves him.*

*He doesn't quite understand when Oncie says he'll 'fix it'. He doesn't know what there is to fix, because prison is an inevitable force that can't be changed. It's like saying you'll fix a sunset. His eyes crack open again, wet eyelashes fluttering against his boyfriend's neck while his own dears don’t cease.* Hm? *The cogs try to turn again.* W-Why? *His voice is hushed, but it's still his usual loopy, lyrical lisp, with a quiver of sadness.* You're here. *That is the only thing that matters. The only thing.*

Once-ler: *Looks down at him with wet eyelashes too.* Because, well because you're still here too and I think it's my fault you are. *He sniffs and begins wiping the Warden's tears away with his hand, since he can't do it himself.* But- but like I said, I'll fix it. *He makes sure not to talk too quickly, to let the words sink in.* I'm going to take you back home, I'm going to make you feel better. It just- *he hiccups as another tear appears and he wipes it away on his shoulder,* It just won't be right now. But I'm not going anywhere, I'm staying here with you until I can make everything okay again- and then forever after that.

Warden: *He looks up at Oncie with half-lidded eyes, still tight enough in the corners that the middle-aged creases around them are visible, but more relaxed than they have been thus far. He blinks slowly when Oncie wipes his tears away, foggy from the sedatives, believing everything he says because he has no choice but to do so, and trusting him because how could he not? He knows in his heart that nobody should like him enough to be here, but Oncie is because they're in love.*

*His subconscious can't quite believe it when he's told they're going to get out of here, not because he doesn't trust Oncie but because he's never known a reality where a prison wasn't an ultimate and inescapable thing. If he was sober he'd believe him, but he can't right now. However, when he says he'll be with him forever 'after that'... something shifts. To hear that Oncie wants to be with him forever shakes up the foundations he otherwise fully believed in, and the idea that there might be a forever after this suddenly becomes plausible. His eyes widen just a little bit more - even as glassy as they are - and a smile slowly spreads across his face, welling up with hopeful, emotional, grief-stricken tears as raw feeling is able to bleed up through the sedation.* Ye... yeah? *He sounds so hopeful, and with the tone of a soldier wanting someone to keep talking to him as he bleeds out on the battlefield, his chest shuddering with emotional hiccups. Nuzzled up against him, able to feel his heartbeat and bury in his scent, looking up at him and hearing his voice - if he can't have his glasses, he can put a new barrier between himself and the rest of reality.*

Once-ler: *His heart breaks and clutches at the hope in the Warden's voice, seeing him smile makes some ray of hope bloom in him too. Nothing can stop the happiness that the Warden brings to the Once-ler when he smiles, no amount of sedatives or guilt, when the man shows that grin, shows the cute gap in his teeth and has that hope in his eyes, it can’t stop Oncie from smiling back to greet him. As his eyes well up again with painful love at the way the Warden’s overflow, he smiles a little too.* Ye-hes...* He almost sobs out silently, between his quivering, smiling lips. He sniffs, then leans in slowly, gently cups Edmunds cheek to tilt towards him, and presses his lips to his. The kiss lingers in softness, barely any pressure applied but the sentiment still clear. His arms squeeze him tenderly a little bit, and after he pulls away he gazes into his eyes and replies in a low voice.* Yes. I promise.

Warden: *He drinks in Oncie's smile like it's sunlight, fortifying him a little better and feeding that faith that everything is going to be alright. He can't envision what it might look like (which spooks him, because he has a very vivid imagination) but he believes that he'll feel better soon. Like a feedback loop, Oncie's returned smile only makes his bigger too. Then they kiss, and under the sedatives it feels like his stomach has erupted like an underwater volcano, something hot and wild and frantically desperate, dampened by a thick layer of vacuum, but unmistakeably there. It feels like he’s been kissed for the very first time, by the only person he’ll love for the rest of his life. It takes him a second to react before his lips twitch and then he's kissing back too - with a similar light pressure, but still very much a presence. Oncie is here, and Oncie loves him, he’s been saved. They draw back, and he looks up at him with utter trust, wide and glassy-eyed, but believing in him as the most powerful force of nature to exist. His eyes might be foggy, but his smile shines through for him.*

Once-ler: *Pulls away from the kiss and adores the smile on Edmunds face. He desperately needs that belief- because no-one else has ever believed in him. Strokes his thumb over his cheek as he cups his face and he gazes into his eyes, wiping away some more tears for his boyfriend. His eyebrows knot up as he blinks his own away and he sighs out sadly.* My little bunny... *Kisses his forehead again and tilts his head in concern, squinting his own eyes as if trying to stop them from being so bright, because he knows they're bright for the Warden without his glasses.* Do your eyes hurt?

Warden: *The combination of Oncie's gentle handling, the safe weight of the covers and the kind tone of his voice softens the Warden's body until he's a warm, heavy weight against his front. He still squints as he looks up into Oncie's eyes, but he doesn't want to lose him by shutting his own.* *It takes him a moment to translate the question, especially since he's still glowing over the kind and loving pet-name, but then he replies quietly,* Mmhmm... a little. *He doesn't care anymore, though. As long as his world is so small that it's only the two of them, he can survive even if they do ache.* I-it's okay.

Once-ler: *Eyebrows knot up in sympathy.* I can't get your glasses but- *Reaches up above his top hat where his sunglasses rest on his head and takes them, while also removing his hat and placing it down.* You can wear mine if it makes you more comfortable. *He helps him try them on, knowing that they're not yellow lenses so can't make anything warmer, but they are dark and so might helps soothe some of the brightness or overwhelming peripheral vision. The weight of glasses on his face might also just provide something of a placebo effect, who knows?* Does that feel better, or no?

Warden: *He watches with glassy docility as Oncie places the glasses on his face, and as darkness falls over his vision he blinks in curiosity. Then the unseen tension in his shoulders relax and the lines around his eyes soften. That feels much better - even if they still aren't right and don't make him feel like he's in his own little fantasy world, he does at least have the separation and some rest for his weak eyes.*

*He smiles up at him from behind his sunglasses, looking quite the picture in his colourless hospital clothes, restraints, and Oncie's sunglasses.* Much better. *He shuffles against him, unable to inch any closer but just wanting to feel the action of drawing nearer to him anyway.* Thank you... *He thanks him as innocently as a child knowing to be polite, but with all the love they share together.*

Once-ler: *Gently smiles when he sees that it's made him feel somewhat better.* Good~ *Leans down and kisses his forehead.* You're welcome. *His stomach squirms as he feels Edmund shift and for a moment wonders if he's uncomfortable, but then he settles against him.* They suit you. *He says with a quiet chuckle, wanting to ease some tension with a playful compliment.

Warden: *Blinks at Oncie with his own, slightly delirious, giggle. He looks up at him with endless gratitude, even just for the slight attempt at play with the compliment, because any amount of play is a good distraction away from bad feelings for the Warden.*

Once-ler: *He smiles back with depth behind his gaze. His heart then skips a beat as he thinks about saying it again, and maybe hearing it back, although he wouldn't worry if he doesn't because knows now that he's capable of it at least. His arms squeeze around him gently, lovingly and he mumbles by his ear.* I love you.

Warden: *He's so glad he's squeezed back, too. He wants that tangible sense of being as close as possible, so his senses are full with the fact that he's protected - because it's really spooky being unable to do anything to defend himself. When he hears those three words again, his body rises with a deep breath of relief and a rush of giddy - if woozy - happiness. Hearing those words still doesn't feel real, those words never applied to him before this man came along, and on some foggy level he understands that even now in all this bad feeling Oncie still wants him enough to be here and say that. Emotion rises in the back of his throat and for a moment his heart flutters. He loves him too.*

*He wants to say those words back. In the addled and muzzy confusion of the past few hours, he's not sure if he's ever been able to or not, but those are also dangerous words that might mean something very bad happens if he says them out loud. He doesn't want to bring down an axe on Oncie right when they're at their weakest, but at the same time he wants to say it so bad.* I-I... *He swallows, then quickly nods as a lump rises in his throat. Silently, he begs Oncie to understand.*

Once-ler: *His hand rises into the Warden's hair and he strokes his fingers through it. He smiles as he watches him try to reply, and doesn't force him, the fact that he's trying to is proof enough, it always has been. His stomach flutters and he leans down to press his lips against his head. He adds quietly when the Warden stops himself.* I know.

Warden: *He's so relieved to hear that Oncie doesn't need him to say it. If he did, the pressure would be too much, especially right now, and he wouldn't know what to do to make it go away. As it is, rather than struggle with the darkness, he's able to float in his arms, and even though he's far from home and can't move his body and doesn't know what to do, he's still kind of cosy. Even a little bit happy.*

*A few moments ago, he said those words because he wasn't sure if he'd ever see Oncie again, and if Oncie was getting away from him then... he was escaping, so maybe he'd hear them and wouldn't be hurt. That was the thought process, the desperation, that managed to coax those words out of him. As he clings to his soulmate's front as best he can, calmer and more aware that they're both here and both 'in danger', he isn't sure they have that freedom. A big man with an axe might enter at any moment. But somehow he still feels like Oncie might be a bigger man. He tilts his head closer to Oncie's chest and says very quietly, forcing the words forward,* A-are we safe?

Once-ler: *His hand comes round and clutches his head protectively when he feels him tilt towards his chest, and when he asks that question he opens his mouth to reply, but then a quick knock taps against the door and the sound of locks clicking with keys echoes through. His attention flicks to it and his grip tightens around Edmund, not to worry him but to make him aware he's protected. He stares towards the incoming sound like a wolf ready to pounce with sharp eyes, ready to snarl at the threat. But he suddenly remembers to collect himself.*

*The knock isn't so much of a request to enter as it is a warning someone is entering, the kind of half assed knock an aged mother gives on her teenage sons bedroom door before sweeping in to dump a pile of laundry on the bed. It's not so much of a knock and entry as it is two hard taps and the immediate creak of the metal hospital door as it sweeps open and white light floods through. An older, plumper woman enters with a younger nurse by her side. The former has been a carer for forty years, the latter didn't want to come back here alone.*

Older nurse: Evenin' Mr. Once-ler, sorry to disturb, but we've brought the overnight stuff by instruction of Dr. Zazzerzump. *She has bags under her eyes, her voice is nasally and she speaks her words with a slow drawl. She's a chunky, round figure and is the type of old nurse who has changed so many bedpans over the years that nothing disgusts or surprises her anymore. Although some patients occasionally do, including this one, but she's good at brushing it off and getting on with her job.* C'mon Lissie! *She enters further into the room holding a large roll of bedding like a lady Viking shifting a boulder. Lessie, a younger, fairly new nurse shuffles in hesitantly after her with pillows.* Do you want it assem-ba-lin' for you, Sir?

Warden: *Suddenly there's noise and voices and loud rattling, and it hits him all wrong because his brain can't process things properly right now. If he was by himself he'd panic and fear would strike and thrash him at them like a prey animal caught in a net. Flinching at and away from them somewhere between impulsive attempts to snap defensively and simply shriek from fright- or, that's what he'd think he'd be doing. In reality the sedative is too much to let him do anything shake out of fear and try to hiss. But his instincts are different now that there's someone else to take care of him, a bigger predator able to fight for him, and so that panicked, protective aggression doesn't trigger. Instead, he's just terrified and begging for rescue. He yelps at the sudden noise, and instinctively dives further against Oncie as if he were trying to dig himself into the ground. His body can be felt to begin to shake, and his hands tighten under his restraints as he grips onto himself in an automatic attempt to protect his organs. He lets out a small sound of fear and manages to dig his heel into the ground and shove himself as hard as he can into Oncie's arms, trying to hide in him like a deer hiding between the legs of a stag.*

Once-ler: *Is frowning towards the noise, but he blinks at the Warden's sudden rustling and hiding and feels his heart clutch in his chest as the same rate his hands clutch around him. His gaze snaps towards the door, now not so furious because things are more in his control and he has his soulmate back in his arms, but still protective. He assumes it's nurses returning to drop off the overnight accommodations he was promised, but Edmund doesn't have enough comprehension of what's happening to understand that's all this is. He pulls him into his front, hiding his face in his chest as he holds his hand against the back of his head and pulls their makeshift covers up a little more over him. He feels the shaking and hears the sound, and as his stomach clenches he can't help but whisper down to him that he's okay. Then he orders at the women.* No, just drop them down there and go. I'll do them myself.

Warden: *He's tense - really, really tense - as he grits his teeth and tries to block out the fact that reality is once again intruding on his world just when it was starting to arrange itself in a tiny little bubble he could kind of begin to handle. He was okay, for a second when it was just them. But the noise leaves him exposed to the real world again, to people who threaten everything about him. Even them just looking at him means he's not The Warden, which is the only thing his mind can deal with.*

*He's not sure if he'll end up bending his sunglasses with the force he's putting on them as he buries himself in Oncie's front. His arms shove, just once, in a panicked attempt to grab around his boyfriend's waist or flail at oncoming danger, but it's not strong and the jacket prevents anything from really happening. He can hear his breathing squeak, but he does at least calm a little bit when he hears Oncie talk to him. He stops his minute attempts at struggling, though his heart still flutters and he still freezes against him like a rabbit caught in an open field.*

Older Nurse: *Shrugs and drops the things on the floor. Lissie does the same, dropping down the pillows and a bag containing some overnight supplies. She grumbles on her way out barely heard.* A 'thank you' would be nice… Young men these days-

Nurse Lessie: *Nudges the older nurse and points over to the Warden. Whispers to her.* Nurse Julie, is that allowed?

Warden: *He doesn't really follow what they're saying, but he recognises the tones enough to hear when they drop the things on the floor - which makes him jump anyway - and start to leave. He begins to soften, just a little, but then they start talking again and he kicks at the ground beneath the covers and whispers Oncie's name in the smallest voice, begging him to make them go away.*

Once-ler: *He feels the pressure against him and doesn't care if his sunglasses are bent so long as they don't end up hurting the Warden himself. The kicking and the little whisper of his name only makes that anger surge up harder because now he's responding to his soulmates fear and feels anxious to defend his space. He just made a warm nest for him and they're invading it.*

Nurse Julie: *Huffs and looks over with her hand on her hips, adjusting her own glasses when she notices the new ones on the Warden.* Sir, I can't say that won't count as contraband like his own if he's-

Once-ler: *Is currently hooking his chin over the Warden's head and stroking his back with his hand under the coat and thneed. He rolls his eyes and snaps at her, the demand barked and final.* Just get out.

Warden: *Flinches at the sudden loud voice, his common sense even more inhibited with the sedatives and therefore his learned behaviour responds instinctively with a flinch to the shout of the angry man. But a split second later, he recognises the voice as his Oncie, which makes sense because the shout was very close and Oncie is hugging him right now, and that flinch immediately settles because he knows he’s being protected. Oncie is so powerful and has such a presence, he’d recognise that voice of his anywhere, it’s the voice that shows strength and makes demands around Superjail despite everything. Even in the jaws of Superjail, Oncie is still a force to be reckoned with. For some reason, that foggy thought almost makes his throat close up.*

Nurse Julie: *Rolls her eyes and shrugs as she turns and then leads Lessie out of the room.* There, that's your answer. *They close it all back up and leave them in peace.*

The Once-ler: *Once the women are gone, his attention immediately turns back to the man in his arms, even if a part of him is still watching their surroundings so that Edmund knows someone is.* Hey, hey, it's okay, they're gone. *He curls around him and rubs his lips against his head, speaking in a softer voice.* You're safe now.

Warden: *He's shaking like a leaf when the door shuts, eyes clenched shut, and realising beneath everything that he's in a really, really bad place, and that for him to be in this really bad place, something really has gone wrong. A certain existential understanding falls over him, but he doesn't have the processing power to handle it. He's actually in trouble. This is a situation that might not just go away like a sickness or a nightmare, but this might mean his life has really changed permanently. His eyes fly open and he looks up at Oncie like he's desperate to see something other than the terrible world he's landed himself in, and he whispers the word that signals that he wants everything to stop. His white flag, his safe-word, the sign that he wants to be in his bed now, and for the ride to stop so he can get off.* I'm sorry. *His voice is barely audible, but his expression is a mask of anguish. He pants with the appearance of falling into a pain-induced panic.* I'm so sorry.

Once-ler: *The shaking only makes him grip harder, as if it might keep him stable, especially at the way Edmund tries to hug for him but just can't. All he can do is hold him back with more strength, and at the least it keeps him warm so the chill doesn't make the shaking worse. Then he feels him lift his head and so he looks back down to him, and that expression of complete, traumatised surrender breaks his heart so hard that it makes him gasp out loud. Then those words come, and he loses his own. He doesn't know what to say, he feels his tongue go cold with a kind of horrified nausea. He shakes his head, eyes wide with knotted eyebrows as he gazes into his eyes and tries to just understand what he means.*

*Something in his expression, in his eyes, is telling him and he thinks he might just see the existential anguish in them. He just wants it to stop, he knows he's been bad - because he's in a bad place, and that's how he knows it works - but he doesn't quite know or remember what he's done. But he feels it, and he'll just apologise for anything, to anyone, to hope it might make the pain go away, that it might stop the punishment. When has he ever offered that grace to anyone himself? Maybe he doesn't even know it's an option, which makes this even more devastating if it's just a broken last cry for help that he knows is hopeless. Nevertheless, what he begs for is a thing that, in his childhood and world view, has always been nothing but an inconceivable idea that’s as real as the Easter bunny. That thing is mercy.*

*He sighs out a shuddering pained breath and cups his face gently with his hand.* Ohh... Bunny... *He swallows, feeling a small lump in his throat. He can only think of one thing to say, whether or not it's appropriate to come from him. None of this seems personal, none of it seems specific, it's all just highly emotional and much like Edmund will say anything to make the punishment end, Oncie will say whatever he needs to hear to ease him in this moment.* I forgive you. *He pulls him into his shoulder and curls around him, his knees coming up even more to cradle him.* You're forgiven. I can't make the bad things stop right now but I can promise you that you're not in trouble, not with me. You were never in trouble with me. *He kisses the side of his head a few times* And I'm staying here, and as long as I'm here with you, you're in a place where you're not in danger, you're not in trouble and you're not being punished, even if you're upset and hurting.

Warden: *His wide eyes stare up through the sunglasses and lock onto Oncie's, desperate for them. When his hand cups his face, he tilts into it so that his cheek is slightly smushed by his palm, a sliver of his teeth visible between parted lips, and big, terrified eyes filling with tears. When Oncie says those words, for a moment his world stops. His eyes can't pull any wider, but his breath pauses and something settles deep down in him - the little motor that had been driving him to higher and higher panic, telling him that he was in trouble and to run. When he hears that he's forgiven, it starts to very carefully melt down.*

*He's pulled in, and again he tries to hard to hug back but the best he can do is press against him and nuzzle into his warm embrace. His eyes don't shut but they do tighten as tears fall again, and he watches Oncie from the hug like he doesn't dare turn away and find out that he's a figment of a dream. He hears Oncie tell him that he's not in trouble, that he's never been in trouble with Oncie, and that he's going to stay here. That he's not in danger and he's not going to be hurt even though he doesn't feel good. A little bleat splutters out of him as he absorbs those kisses, needing them so badly.*

*'Forgiveness' has never been a word in the Warden's vocabulary. In day-to-day life, sure, he'll forgive a slight. He'll forgive his friends for mistakes and accidents, or deliberately pretend they don't hate him if they do something that hurts, but that's not mercy. Mercy is different. He's never once granted mercy to a prisoner without an ulterior motive. The only other time he ever showed mercy was when he dared to feed that puppy, and they both know what happened after that. Justice and mercy are two sides of the same coin, but he's never flipped his over. His father never flipped it over either - all he's ever known is black-and-white punishment for crimes. Mercy is ‘cheating’, as his Father would think. But he's so scared, and he'd do anything to make the fear go away. He'll cheat if he has to, not realising that he's not 'cheating', but genuinely crying out for help because his mind and sanity are still fighting for a shred of survival and he’s too small and weak to do it himself. His whisper of those words might as well be a scream from a burning building.*

Once-ler: *He doesn't realise that what the Warden’s psychology really reads is him granting him mercy, although that is the truth to what Oncie is offering him. Because as Edmund begs the universe for mercy in his moment of pain, the universe has granted it to him in the form of The Once-ler. Out of everything around him, this is the kind offering, the acceptance of the white flag, the hearing of the safe word and the offer to help cease the pain. That doesn't mean he can change the rest of his situation, but one corner of this situation is merciful. He does consciously know forgiveness however. He knows guilt and he knows how much freedom forgiveness can bring a person, because he knows that he himself would still be in a terrible place had the Lorax not forgiven him for all he'd done.*

Warden: *After a moment, he gives a pitiful nod. With a wet, little laugh he nuzzles his nose into his neck. He's still scared, but as Oncie insists on those promises, the dread begins to lift. He plants a gentle kiss against him.*

The Once-ler: *That lump in his throat grows as he sees the Warden's reaction, but he stays strong, his stomach flutters at the gentle kiss against him and he bundles him up in a little squirm. They couldn't be closer but he still wants him to feel cuddled.* You're safe, Edmund, it's just you and me, and nothing can hurt you when I'm with you. *His voice is low and soft and he kisses his head again.* I love you. *He pulls back just enough to look at him and cup his face, he smiles softly, wiping a tear from his cheek with his thumb.* And in a moment I'm going to wrap us up in that soft blanket, lie us down in the pillows, and we're going to cuddle up together all night. Now that doesn't sound much like punishment, huh?

Warden: *The fear leaves him in layers, each one peeling away or falling to dust, one-by-one as Oncie handles him so tenderly. The existential dread leaves him first, as Oncie promises him that he's not in trouble and reminds him that even if he's uncomfortable, he's not going to be harmed by anyone so long as he's here. Beneath that is an animal tension, ready to spring and try to run or try to defend himself, or cry for help as his instincts prepare for a wolf attack. He's so vulnerable, and he knows it, that he's been flooding himself with adrenaline that's been battling the sedatives in his bloodstream for what must be hours. As he's cuddled up and as Oncie gives him a warm place to curl, as he kisses him and cups his face and says he'll always protect him, that slowly falls away as well.*

*Soon he's left only with the fear at the very bottom of it all, that will probably not go away until they get out of this place. That fear is manageable - it's just an undercurrent of knowledge that he hasn't got his shield and that life is scary and that he's not in Superjail anymore, and that can be carried so long as he's not left by himself. As long as Oncie is handling everything else, he can handle that.*

*It takes him a second for Oncie's words to sink through the fog, but then he nods with a weary, relieved smile, even a little chuckle in his voice.* Mmhmm~ *The smile pushes a final tear down his cheek and over Oncie's thumb, and he blushes ever-so-slightly pink when he's told that he loves him. Soft blankets and a warm bed sound very good right about now.*

Once-ler: *Lets out a soft, loving hum of laughter that's only just audible. His own chest doesn't feel quite as panicked anymore even though he still wants to get Edmund out of here as fast as possible. He's accepted what he can't change and is focusing in what he can control, and now that he can tell his boyfriend's heart rate is calming down, his own is relaxing too and becomes a calm thud against Edmund's front. A hand slides into his hair and he pulls him gently down under his chin and rests his lips against his head as he softly draws his fingertips through his hair in rhythmic circles. He loves him, more than anything in the world, he loves him, so even if Edmund couldn't be released in some ridiculous universe where the Once-ler doesn't get what he wants, he'd stay here in this room with him for an eternity. He whispers.* We'll stay here a moment and then I'll sort the bed out, okay? *He kisses his head, and just so soothe him a little more, he starts to slowly hum a little jingle he once made up about Thneeds and how everybody needs one.*

Warden: *His eyes close as Oncie's hand slides into his hair, his senses still trying to be alert for danger but failing as a sense of comfort, of utter relief, overwhelms him. He curls up under his partner's chin as he's guided, and a few more tears fall down his face - healing tears after a long day fraught with terror, rather than the cry for help they were before. He makes a soft sound that he understands, when Oncie tells him he'll move in a moment to get things sorted, and the softest, most musical little laugh escapes him when he hears that jingle. If he's playing, they really must be okay.*

*The fear fades as his world becomes encapsulated in the Once-ler's arms, and the emotions rush in slowly but surely, like an avalanche of honey. He adores this man. He needs him more than he has ever needed anything else, because he's saving him - not just protecting him like his glasses or his prison. His lips quiver with just how intensely and just how truly those emotions hit, and after a moment he pushes his face into Oncie's neck to whisper words that would normally be so terrifying but right now feel like the only things that matter.* I-I... *His voice is so quiet, not wanting the universe to hear his confession of guilt and weakness, because these words were always treated like that's what they were. But if Oncie has the power to make even mercy exist, then maybe he’s right, maybe his Father was also wrong about those three words. He said them already, in a fit of desperation that he only half-understands, but he says them now like it's a secret he's privileged to keep.* …*He takes a soft, deep breath and pushes himself harder into his arms.* I-I love you...

Once-ler: *He's happily curled around his boyfriend, loving the way he nestles into his neck and starts to calm down. When he starts to speak, he thinks he's about to try and ask or say something else; it's only when he actually says the words that it surprises him.*

*He wasn't expecting to hear the response, but he realises that Edmund finally feels safe enough to say it, because he's here with him. His chest clutches, time slows down again and he feels a lump in his throat that makes emotional, incredulous tears appear in his eyes again. He sniffs and lets out a quiet breath of laughter, grinning from ear to ear. His heart can be felt racing, hammering in his chest with a rush of joy and excitement despite the terrible circumstances they're in. This could be the most happiest he's felt in a long time, despite them both being in the most awful nightmare, all because he adores this man more than life itself and the man has the courage to tell him the same, finally. He sniffs and leans in, nuzzling his nose just under his cheek to gently tilt his face like a kind, larger animal shifting a smaller one.* I love you too, Bunny.

*He meets his lips and they press together, his own parting slightly and softly to linger against his with a few nuzzling smooches, as his arms squeeze around him with the same strength of push that Edmund presses into him. He doesn't overwhelm him, but he does consume his meekness with affection and adoration, surrounding him with his arms and capturing his lips like a flurry of flowers blooming against his skin. He tilts his head into it and lets out a soft sigh as a tear rolls down his cheek. As he pulls away he gazes into the Warden's eyes, the pair of them both tear-filled over their love for each other and he smiles. He grins and whispers* I love you too.

Warden: *It takes a moment, but when Oncie kisses him his lips respond in kind, his heart beating like a fluttering bird in the cage of his ribs, and his cheeks blooming with more colour. They part just a little bit and brush against him, as slow and earnest as a leaf bending for the sun. He bends with the gentle, primal nudge of his face, and dares to crack open his eyes to gaze up at him. The corners of his mouth weakly pull into a broad smile, all the more quavering but all the happier when they're said to him again.*

*He's so happy to hear those words returned, because even though he's certain of their love, he isn't certain about those words, and there's always a chance that they could magically make everything terrible if he's heard to say them out loud. Oncie's voice, however, is bigger than his is, and it's like he drowns out all the threats and dangers that start to clamour for his mind the moment he says the same thing.*

The Once-ler: *The Once-ler closes his eyes and pulls Edmund under his chin again, he begins pressing repeated kisses into his head and around his face, slowly and softly so he's not overwhelmed, but showering him in love still, and holding him like he's the most valuable thing the Once-ler has ever worked so hard to earn. And then, he rests his cheek on his head, safely tucked under his chin, within the warm comfort of his makeshift covers. They rest in the moment, they can face the world again together tomorrow, right now, all that matters is that they’re back together and nothing will pull the Once-ler’s greatest treasure from his greedy, loving hands.*

Warden: *He closes his eyes as he's tucked under Oncie's chin, his whole body melting against him, relying on him entirely to bear his weight. That is, until Oncie starts to push those gentle kisses into his head and face, his drugged senses reading that movement as he would a flurry of kisses if he were at his best. His feet give a very weak and heavy kick of delight as a breathy, lyrical laugh falls from him, delighted at so much fuss and adoration. The Once-ler came back for him, and that’s the only thing that matters. He's loved, and he loves, and even though everything seems to have gone wrong, and even though the whole world seems to hate him right now, and even though the loud, angry, scary voice in his head would disagree, that love is the only thing that matters.*

[starfellforyou]

aquarium date ✩⋆｡˚

❛ ༉‧₊˚ featuring: childe, alhaitham, neuvillette, kaveh x gn!reader

❛ ༉‧₊˚ premise: on your first date, you and your new boyfriend visit the aquarium in the city. in tender moments like these, another side to him is revealed...

❛ ༉‧₊˚ genres: fluff, modern au

「 as the ocean is never full of water, so is the heart never full of love. 」

childe suggested going to the aquarium today, and quite enthusiastically at that. you weren't expecting him to be the fish-loving type, but it turns out that he's a prolific ocean connoisseur who seems to be able to answer any and all of your questions about the pretty, exotic sea creatures floating behind the glass. you've never seen him this engrossed in anything before; his eyes twinkling with a youthful light that only ever seems to shine as brightly when he's with you. despite himself, he seems a little shy today, as if he's reluctant to hold your gaze, or your hand - either one. "wow. it's beautiful," you gasp at a glowing blue coral as it catches your attention.

"it is." you might've imagined it, but you're pretty sure he wasn't looking at the coral.

「 you are the only fish in the sea for me. 」

alhaitham was tough to persuade. you've wanted to visit the aquarium for months, but he claimed it's all a ploy for tourism boards to make profits and that any knowledge you seek is readily available in his library. but after seeing you with that look on your face - that look of pure and earnest begging that he would kill for - he had to relent.

his hand in yours, you practically have to drag him through the shimmering tunnels and pathways, a permanent scowl creasing his brows. you're about to give up when, out of the blue, he points to a dumb-looking fish with big, thoughtless eyes and says, "huh. looks like you." you playfully slap him on the arm, the touch of your hand on his skin turning his cheeks a bright shade of red.

「 ocean separates lands, not souls. 」

neuvillette is just glad to be able to spend his day off with you. "surprise me," he dared you, a cheeky expression dancing across his features. it's a rare sight to behold, a stark contrast to the stoic, uptight lawyer you see at work.

he looks peaceful as the two of you stroll down the winding corridors of the aquarium, schools of jellyfish passing you by. a group of tourists attempt to squeeze their way through, prompting his hand to gently push against the small of your back as he brings you closer to the wall. you feel his breath on your ear and begin to count the baby sharks in the exhibit before you.

「 our love is as deep as the ocean. 」

kaveh is a romantic at heart. he may have been frivolous and flighty before he met you, but you know in your heart that his playboy tendencies have all been left in the past. usually, he has a knack for incessant chatter and gossip, as well as the occasional grand profession of love for one of his "bros" that always ends in fits of laughter from everyone in the room. you thought him to be pretentious, boisterous, and brash.

but lately, as you've been spending more time with him, you seem to reveal a special part of his soul that only yours has touched; a protective, sincere kaveh that the crowded aquarium has no effect on. "it feels like we're the only ones here, does it not?" you tell him, beaming. "i rather enjoy being alone with you." and he takes your hand with his.

❛ ༉‧₊˚ author's note: my question is when are we getting a genshin shojo anime and when am i going to be able to live it out for myself

✧ starfellforyou