#cruel just reminds of how they care for each other no matter what they say to each other

[soulofapatrick]

Don’t Tempt Me - Xaden Riorson x female reader

Summary: Xaden finds you burnt out on the training field 

Warnings: none 

Words: 6k (somehow)

Notes: Not my fave and not proofread

Y/N's POV

The sun hangs low over Basgiath, bleeding gold and deep crimson across the sky, its light casting jagged shadows over the towering battlements. The war college looms around me, its stone walls unyielding, its presence as foreboding as ever. The air is thick with the lingering scent of sweat and scorched leather, remnants of a day spent in brutal training.

The air is thick with the scent of fresh earth and damp stone as I sprint across the training yard, my feet pounding the ground with a rhythm that feels like a heartbeat—a constant reminder of my inadequacies. Sweat drips down my forehead, stinging my eyes, but I refuse to wipe it away. I don’t have time to care about that. I only have time to run.

Over and over, I push myself to the brink, my body screaming in protest, muscles tight with fatigue. My breaths are ragged, desperate for air that feels like it's slowly being stolen from me. But the pain doesn’t matter. It’s nothing compared to the quiet voice inside my head, the one that whispers my doubts and my fears, the one that tells me I’m not enough.

You can’t keep doing this.

It’s Virethalon’s voice. Low, firm, and impossibly calm, like he always is when he sees me teetering on the edge. His presence pulses in my mind, filling the quiet spaces with a calm I can’t find within myself.

Stop, he says again, the warning clear. You’ll burn out before you ever get the chance to fly.

But I ignore him. I have to. I can’t stop, not when the weight of everyone’s expectations hangs so heavily on my shoulders. I can’t afford to be weak. I can’t afford to be what everyone expects—a failure.

My legs scream, my body trembling with every step, but I push harder. Faster. A flip, a backflip, then a roll, twisting midair in an effort to improve my reaction time, my agility. I force my limbs to obey, despite how they beg for rest, despite how my mind is breaking under the strain.

I am not enough. I’m not strong enough to make it here.

Each fall, each misstep echoes the same message in my mind: You don’t belong.

The words are a sting in my chest, sharp and bitter, poisoning the air in front of me. The instructors don’t believe in me, not truly. They’re waiting for me to break, to fail in front of everyone. The other cadets—they’re watching too, eager to see how long I’ll last.

Stop.

Virethalon’s voice is more insistent now, rising with frustration. I know he’s watching, can feel his eyes on me, even though he’s nowhere near. You don’t need to prove anything.

I don’t stop. I can’t. If I stop now, the quiet, haunting voice of failure will take over. If I stop, I’ll feel it—the shame of not being able to meet the impossible standard everyone else expects from me.

The ground shifts beneath me as I sprint forward, my foot catching on something, my body twisting unnaturally in the air. For a split second, time seems to stretch—slow, agonising. And then, I crash.

The world flips. My body slams into the earth, my hands and knees taking the brunt of it. The impact rattles my bones, sharp and unforgiving. My breath is knocked out of me, and for a moment, I just lay there, feeling the tremor of my body as it tries to recover from the shock.

I’m not moving. I can’t move.

Gentle hands find my shoulders before I can even process what’s happening. The pressure is firm yet careful, guiding me, coaxing me into a sitting position. My body trembles from exhaustion, every muscle protesting the movement, every joint aching with the weight of my own failure. I try to steady myself, but the effort makes the world spin, and I can’t seem to get my bearings.

The cold stone beneath me is a cruel reminder of how far I’ve pushed myself. My hands shake, fingers stiff from too much strain, and I finally drop my head, trying to hide the rush of heat that floods my face.

And then, I feel him.

His presence looms over me like a shadow, suffocating and unavoidable. My heart skips a beat, and I immediately wish I could melt into the ground, anything to escape the situation. But it’s too late.

I glance up—my breath catches as I come face to face with him. Xaden Riorson. He stands before me, looking like a damn god, his tall, muscular frame casting a shadow over me. The way his wide shoulders fill out his leather jacket should be illegal. He’s built like someone who’s spent years training and fighting, his chest massive, arms heavily muscled. His dark hair is windblown and tousled, the kind of messy that only makes him look more dangerous. His tawny-brown skin is kissed by the sun, and the dark stubble along his jawline only adds to the rough, untamed look. His eyes—gold-flecked onyx—are locked on mine with an intensity that makes me feel like I’m about to be set ablaze, and I would rather do anything else than face him like this.

I rub my face with both hands, hoping to hide the blush that’s rising to my cheeks. Of all the ways for this to end—of course, it’s Xaden Riorson who catches me. And of course, he looks like that.

“What the hell are you doing?” he growls, his voice a deep rumble of anger that makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. “You’re an idiot.”

I blink, half-frozen, half in disbelief. The audacity. “Oh, wow. Thank you, Wing Leader,” I drawl, sarcasm practically dripping from my tongue. “You really know how to make a girl feel special.”

Xaden’s jaw tightens, but he doesn’t bite back—at least, not yet. Instead, his eyes flicker over me, and I know he’s assessing the damage. My exhaustion. The way I’m trembling, barely able to hold myself upright. It’s the worst feeling in the world. I’m embarrassed as hell that he’s seeing me like this—weak, on the edge of crumbling.

“I told you to stop before you reached this point,” he mutters, shaking his head. There’s an edge of frustration in his tone now, and I can’t decide if I want to hit something or laugh at how he sounds like he’s scolding a child.

“Yeah, well, you know me,” I say, wiping a bead of sweat off my brow, trying to make myself sound more in control than I feel. “Can’t resist proving everyone wrong.” I let out a bitter laugh, the kind that doesn’t reach my eyes. “But, hey, thanks for showing up and saving the day. Just what every soldier needs: an overbearing Wing Leader.”

A flash of something—maybe amusement, maybe exasperation—crosses his face, but it’s gone too quickly for me to read it properly. His dark brows furrow, and he steps closer, invading my space. “You’re burning yourself out. You can’t keep going like this.”

I force myself to sit up straighter, determined not to appear as weak as I feel, but I can’t hide the tremor in my limbs. The ache in my muscles is almost unbearable now, and Virethalon’s voice echoes through my mind—Stop, or you’ll destroy yourself. But I ignore it, as I have for hours.

I grit my teeth. “I don’t need your help, okay? I don’t need anyone’s help.”

I try to push myself to my feet, but my body betrays me, buckling underneath me like a broken chair. I stumble, gasping for breath, my hand reaching out for support but finding nothing.

Xaden’s eyes flash with anger again, but his movements are faster than I can process. He’s at my side in a heartbeat, and before I can even protest, he lifts me up, cradling me against him in one smooth, powerful motion. His arms are like iron around me, and my body, still trembling with exhaustion, goes stiff against him.

“What the hell are you doing?” I gasp, still trying to regain some semblance of control. I push against his chest—unsuccessfully—my arms too weak to do anything more than flop uselessly at my sides. “Put me down, you asshole!”

Xaden doesn’t respond immediately. He doesn’t have to. His grip tightens, holding me effortlessly against him as he carries me toward the barracks. “I told you to stop, but you never listen. So now you’re paying the price.” His tone is laced with annoyance, but there’s something else beneath it—something that makes my heart twist. Maybe it’s concern, maybe it’s guilt, but I can’t focus on that. I’m too busy trying to avoid the heat that floods my face.

“You’re such a prick,” I mutter, my voice half muffled by his chest. I’m so fucking embarrassed, and I hate that I feel this way. His warmth, his scent, is all-consuming, and my skin burns at the contact. But I refuse to admit it. “I don’t need you to carry me like some helpless baby.”

“Funny,” he says, his voice low, “because you sure look like one right now.”

I can practically hear the smirk in his voice, and I want to punch him. I should punch him. But I don’t have the energy, so I settle for biting my lip, muttering curses under my breath as he carries me.

The weight of his presence presses against me, and I can feel his muscles shifting beneath me, each movement of his body reminding me of just how powerful he is. And for all my protests, for all my sarcasm, I don’t want to admit that I’m secretly grateful. Grateful that he’s here. Grateful that he doesn’t let me fall apart.

Even if it means I have to endure his endless teasing.

Xaden’s warm eyes flicker down at me, and this time, there’s something softer there. Almost like...he understands. But I’m too stubborn to let myself believe it.

Xaden doesn’t say a word as he carries me through the barracks, the warmth of his body pressing against mine as I try to ignore the heat rising in my cheeks. I’m too tired to fight it. His presence is too overwhelming, and I can feel his heartbeat steady against me. Every step he takes is calculated, strong, as though it’s second nature for him to carry someone in his arms like this. It’s as if he’s done it a hundred times—though I have to wonder just how many times I’ve crossed his mind before today.

Xaden moves with a quiet grace, his large frame effortlessly navigating the corridors of the dorm building as though he’s done this a thousand times before. He steps softly, almost soundlessly, his footsteps absorbed by the shadows that seem to cling to him like a second skin. My heart races, but it's not from exertion anymore—it's the way he's so effortlessly commanding in everything he does. The weight of his arms around me, the heat radiating from his body, and the way my mind seems to short-circuit whenever I’m near him make it hard to think straight.

We pass the first-year rooms—mine included—and I can’t help but cringe at the thought of being caught sneaking past curfew. But Xaden moves with such precision, such mastery of his surroundings, that the idea of us being caught seems laughable. No one can hear us, no one even notices us. It’s like we’re ghosts, gliding past the rooms, unseen by anyone else.

I briefly wonder how he does it—how he’s so adept at slipping through the shadows, unnoticed, silent. But then, he’s always been a mystery to me. The kind of mystery I’ve never quite been able to figure out. And maybe, in a way, I don't want to.

Finally, we reach the staircase that leads to the upper floors, and with a swift glance in either direction, Xaden steps into the shadows, carrying me effortlessly up the stairs. We move past the landing and down the hallway to the last door—the one I know leads to his room. He doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t pause, and with a final quiet push of the door, we’re inside.

Xaden doesn’t put me down right away. His arms remain around me, his hold firm, as if he’s unwilling to let go. As if, for a brief moment, he’s afraid to lose the connection. The closeness between us feels suffocating, overwhelming, and yet I can’t bring myself to pull away. Every inch of my body is acutely aware of his presence, the heat of his skin seeping into mine, the muscle and strength in his arms keeping me held too close. I can feel the steady thrum of his heartbeat against me, mirroring the frantic pulse racing through my veins.

His dark eyes meet mine, and I swear, for a second, everything else falls away. His gaze is fierce, like a storm trapped behind his irises, flickering with a raw intensity that sends a wave of heat rushing through me. I’m suddenly aware of how painfully close we are—so close that if I moved even an inch, I’d be pressed against him completely. My breath catches, and I can’t look away, trapped in the gravity of his stare, like he’s pulling me toward him without even trying. And then, as if trying to fight whatever is building between us, his eyes flicker to my lips, and I feel it—the pull—stronger than anything I’ve ever felt.

But just as quickly as the moment seems to rise, he jerks his gaze away, his jaw tightening with the effort to control himself. It’s like he’s trying to push back the part of him that’s aware—aware of the magnetic pull between us, aware of how much he’s been fighting this… whatever this is. He shakes his head slightly, as though dismissing the thought entirely, like he’s trying to shut down the desire that flares in him. But I see it in his eyes—the flicker of something primal. Something I can’t ignore.

Finally, he sets me down, but he doesn’t let go immediately. He’s still so close that I can feel his breath on my skin, a whisper of warmth against the cold, the tension stretching taut between us, like a string pulled too tight. My pulse races as I settle onto the bed, the soft covers pressing against me, but my chest feels like it’s about to burst. I try to catch my breath, but it’s like the air in the room has thickened, heavy with unsaid words and the suffocating weight of everything unsaid.

Xaden doesn’t back away. He hovers, towering over me, his presence suffusing the space around us. I can feel the heat radiating off him, his body just a breath away, and every inch of me is screaming to close the distance. But I don’t move. I’m not sure I can. His nearness makes every part of me ache, makes every nerve light up, thrumming with the raw electricity that crackles between us.

His voice cuts through the thick silence, deep and steady, but there’s something almost... softer now, something gentler that makes my heart stutter. “Stay here,” he commands, his words pressing down on me like a physical weight, making my chest tighten. The force of his tone is undeniable, but there’s an undercurrent of something else—something that makes my stomach flutter. Something dangerous and thrilling all at once. "Be a good girl. Don’t go anywhere.”

I feel those words in my bones, in the very marrow of my being. The way he says it—it’s like a promise, a command that makes my heart race faster than it should. And yet, there’s a tenderness beneath it, a strange gentleness that pulls at me, twists my insides into knots. He wants to keep me here, close. He wants to possess this moment with me, even though I can feel the struggle in him—his body yearning to cross the line, but his mind pulling him back, trying to control what’s growing between us.

His gaze holds mine, unwavering, and I swear I see something break in his eyes—something raw and unspoken. It’s as if he’s holding himself back from doing something he knows would be too much, too dangerous. But the look in his eyes tells me everything I need to know: the battle is far from over, and this tension—this charge—it’s only just beginning.

I try to swallow, but my throat is dry. Every muscle in my body is taut, every nerve alive with an electric hum. Xaden disappears into the adjoining ensuite, his heavy footsteps echoing softly across the stone floor. I can hear the gentle hiss of the water filling the tub, the steady flow of it working in rhythm with the hammering of my heart. The tension between us lingers, the silence more suffocating now than ever before, and I can’t shake the feeling of his gaze still lingering on me even as he disappears from the room.

I should feel grateful for the space—should breathe, slow my pulse—but all I can think of is him. The way he’s so effortlessly commanding, yet there’s this softness beneath it that I can't quite place. The way he had looked at me, his expression a battle between restraint and something far more intense.

My fingers twitch, almost compulsively, and I reach for my boots, needing to do something. My body is still shaking from the exertion, from the near-collapse, and now my brain feels fuzzy, the exhaustion creeping in faster than I expected. I should just wait, I know I should, but I feel... out of control. I need to regain some semblance of normalcy, something to anchor me.

I struggle to bend down, but my balance is still far off from the punishment I just put my body through. My vision swims a little, and before I can register what’s happening, my body tips forward, sending me sprawling from the edge of the bed with a yelp. The floor greets me hard, and a shock of pain shoots up my spine, but it's nothing compared to the embarrassment that floods through me in waves. My pulse spikes, and I scramble, feeling utterly ridiculous.

A sharp, almost instinctive growl of frustration rises in the air—Xaden. He’s already moving quickly, a blur of motion as he rushes back into the room, his broad form filling the doorway in an instant. His dark eyes sweep over me, a flicker of concern passing through them, but it’s quickly replaced with something harder—almost irritated.

"You really are a disaster, aren't you?" His voice is deep, but there's a teasing bite to it, even as he crosses the room toward me in strides that eat up the distance. I can’t even find it in me to be offended. I’m too busy feeling like a complete fool.

Before I can open my mouth to respond, he’s crouching in front of me, his hands reaching for my arms to steady me. The sheer strength in his touch almost knocks the wind out of me as he helps me back onto my feet, the warmth of his hands traveling through my skin and straight to my chest. He doesn’t say anything else, but the way his eyes linger on me for a moment, as though making sure I’m okay, sends something fluttering nervously in my stomach.

“Try not to break anything else, would you?” His voice is softer now, as though the weight of the moment has finally broken through that icy exterior of his. His lips curve into a smirk, but there’s no denying the genuine care beneath the sarcasm.

Xaden moves with quiet precision, his hands wrapping around my waist, gentle but firm, as he guides me toward the bed. The heat from his touch lingers on my skin, and despite everything, I can't help but shiver. His grip is unyielding, his presence surrounding me, and as I sit on the edge of the bed, he stands in front of me, towering over me. The dim light from the room casts shadows across his features, making him look even more intimidating than usual, but there’s something in his eyes that betrays the mask he’s trying so hard to maintain.

His hands rest on my knees for a moment, and his gaze flickers to mine. There’s a question there, unspoken, something almost vulnerable beneath that stoic expression. I can see the battle waging in his eyes. He doesn’t want to touch me—at least, that’s what his expression says. But his eyes… those eyes of molten gold flecked with onyx… they betray him, flashing with an intensity I can’t quite read.

And then, in a moment that feels both like an eternity and a breath, Xaden sinks to his knees in front of me. The movement is fluid, almost too graceful, and my heart skips a beat. It feels wrong to be this close, too intimate. His presence is overwhelming, and I can feel the tension in the room thickening with every inch of space he closes between us.

Xaden kneels before me, his hands gentle but firm as he removes my boots. His touch is careful, almost reverent, but the tension is unmistakable. Each movement is deliberate, like he's holding himself back from something. The weight of his gaze on me is intense—smouldering, even—and I can feel every inch of him watching, noticing, memorising.

As he pulls off the second boot, his fingers brush against my calf, sending a jolt through me. My breath catches, and I instinctively tense, but it's more from the electric charge between us than the discomfort of my body. I don’t know why it affects me like this—this man who’s never once been shy about hiding the way he feels or thinking that his touch doesn’t matter—but in this moment, it matters. It matters more than it should.

He looks up then, his gaze locking onto mine. The heat in his eyes is unmistakable, a dark storm brewing just beneath the surface. His brow furrows slightly, and for a split second, I wonder if he’s questioning something—me, himself, what we’re both doing here, like this. But then his eyes flick lower, and I can see the hesitation there, a silent question that hangs in the air between us.

His fingers hover at the waistband of my tracksuit bottoms, brushing lightly against my hips. The touch is almost too soft, as if he’s trying to gauge my reaction before crossing a line that’s already dangerously blurred. He doesn’t say a word—he doesn’t have to. The question is in his eyes, in the way his lips part ever so slightly, in the subtle tension in his jaw. It’s an unspoken request, one that I know all too well.

I can feel the pulse of uncertainty in my veins, but something about this—about him—makes me lower my defences, just a little. Without even thinking, I raise my hips slightly, just enough to give him the signal. My movement is small, almost imperceptible, but it's enough. His breath hitches, and I can see the way his eyes flicker, a momentary loss of control before he tightens his grip on his composure.

Xaden exhales sharply, like he’s been holding his breath all this time, and I can see it in his expression—the struggle between what he wants and what he’s trying so hard to resist. His fingers slide beneath the waistband of my tracksuit bottoms, and I feel the slightest tremor in his touch. He’s slow, deliberate, like he’s savouring the moment, but also like he’s afraid that if he moves too quickly, the entire thing might shatter.

The air between us crackles with an electric tension, and as he helps me out of the fabric, I’m left feeling exposed in a way that’s more than physical. My heartbeat is louder than anything else, pounding in my ears, and for a moment, I forget about the aches in my body, the bruises, the exhaustion. It’s as though the world has narrowed to just us. Just this. And I can’t seem to pull away from him, from the way he makes me feel, from the way his hands linger a little too long at the edge of my clothing, as if to remind me that he sees me—every part of me.

I know it’s not supposed to feel this way, not like this. But every glance, every touch, every quiet, unspoken word between us is enough to unravel the careful walls I’ve built. And yet, even as he pulls the tracksuit bottoms off, his hands gentle but insistent, there’s something else in his eyes—something that tells me he’s fighting every urge to touch me, to kiss me. But he doesn’t. He never does.

I can’t decide whether that makes it harder or easier.

And when he finishes, leaving me in nothing but my sports bra and panties, I feel more vulnerable than I’ve ever been—completely at his mercy, exposed in more ways than one. The air is thick with unspoken words, and even as I sit there, trying to catch my breath, I know this isn’t over.

Xaden lets out a frustrated sound, a low, throaty growl that resonates deep in his chest. His breath stutters as his forehead falls gently to my thigh, the weight of it anchoring me in place. The intensity of the moment is suffocating, like the world around us has slowed to a stop, leaving only the two of us, tangled in something we can’t deny. His hands are gripping the edge of the bed, his knuckles white, and I can feel the tension in his body, a tight coil of restraint and hunger.

And then, in one swift, desperate motion, he surges upward, his lips crashing against mine. There’s no warning, no hesitation. Just pure, raw need. His mouth takes mine with a fierce intensity that leaves me breathless, as though he’s been holding back for far too long and now there’s no more control. It’s like he’s been starved for this—starved for me—and he doesn’t want to let me go, not even for a second.

I kiss him back with everything I have, my hands finding the sides of his face, pulling him closer, as if I can’t get enough. Every part of me feels alive with the heat between us, my skin tingling where his fingers brush against it, my heart thudding erratically in my chest. He tastes like fire—burning hot, consuming—and I can’t help but fall into him, into the kiss, into the feeling of him. I can feel the weight of his body pressing against mine, the strength of him, but it’s not overbearing. It’s grounding, like he’s pulling me into his orbit.

His hands move quickly, urgently, as if he’s afraid the moment will slip away from him. Before I can fully comprehend what’s happening, he’s lifting me effortlessly from the bed, and suddenly I’m straddling his thighs. His hands settle on my hips, holding me in place, the heat of his body radiating into mine. I can feel the way his pulse races beneath his skin, the way his chest rises and falls against mine. The kiss deepens, growing even more frantic, and I don’t know whether it’s the intensity of it or the way he’s holding me that makes everything else feel so insignificant.

He pulls me closer, his hands guiding me with a possessive, yet gentle touch, and I can feel the thrum of energy between us, something electric, something undeniable. My fingers tangle in his hair, tugging him closer, and the sound of his breathing, his heavy exhales, fills the space between us. I can hear the way he’s fighting for control, the way his muscles tighten with the effort of keeping his composure.

But I don’t want him to. I don’t want him to hold back.

I don’t want him to fight it anymore.

I can feel the heat of his body through the thin fabric of my sports bra, his chest pressing against mine with each movement, and I’m acutely aware of how close we are, how easy it would be to lose ourselves completely in this. And yet, even as we continue kissing, tangled in each other’s embrace, there’s a part of me that’s still unsure, still trying to catch up with everything happening around me. But when his hands slide down to my thighs, gripping them with such possessiveness, that uncertainty melts away, replaced by a heady rush of desire.

The kiss breaks, but just for a moment, both of us gasping for air. His lips hover above mine, and I can see the raw intensity in his eyes, a mixture of frustration and something else—something far more tender, even if it’s buried beneath the layers of urgency.

"Don't stop," he mutters, his voice rough and low. His hands tighten around me, pulling me against him, as if he’s trying to make sure I’m real. “Please don’t stop.”

And all I can do is nod, my chest still rising and falling with the rapid pace of my heart. I don't want to stop either.

The air between us feels thick with heat, charged with a tension that I don't want to break, even as the reality of what we’re doing begins to settle in. Xaden’s hands are still firm on my hips, his grip tightening with every shift of my body, and I can feel every muscle in his form, every bit of control he's holding onto, fighting to stay composed. He pulls me closer again, the fabric of my sports bra barely separating us, his chest brushing against mine as he presses his forehead to mine, both of us gasping for breath.

The heat from his skin, the closeness of his body, is too much to ignore. It's overwhelming in the best way. I can hear my own pulse hammering in my ears, feel the electricity between us that neither of us can escape. He looks at me, his gold-flecked eyes searching mine, his breath ragged as if he's barely holding on to the edge of whatever control he has left.

I can't stop myself from raising my hand to touch his face, my fingers trailing down the line of his jaw, tracing the hard curve of his chin, feeling the roughness of his stubble. The tenderness in my touch makes him shiver, his breath catching in his throat, and for a brief second, everything else fades. There’s no training, no curfew, no expectations—just the two of us, caught in something far more complex than either of us ever intended.

His lips brush against mine once more, a soft, tentative kiss, but it feels more intimate than the previous fiery moments. It's full of the unspoken things, the feelings we've been hiding, buried beneath layers of duty and unacknowledged desire. Xaden pulls back slowly, just enough to look at me, his eyes heavy with something unreadable.

"I—" he starts, his voice thick with emotion, but I stop him, my fingers pressing gently to his lips.

“I know," I whisper. "I know, Xaden. We don’t need to say it.”

The words hang in the air between us, unspoken yet understood. He looks at me, really looks at me, and for once, there’s no pretension, no walls between us. Just a moment of raw honesty.

But then, he pulls back just a fraction, his hands slowly loosening their grip on me, as if reluctant to let go but knowing he has to. His eyes soften, a flicker of something tender passing over his features before he runs a hand through his windblown hair, trying to regain some semblance of composure.

“You should rest,” he murmurs, though there’s a trace of something unreadable in his voice. “You’ve pushed yourself too hard tonight.”

I nod, feeling the weight of his words as the adrenaline from our moment starts to ebb away, leaving me with a sense of vulnerability, of exhaustion I hadn’t realised had been creeping up on me. My body is still sore from the training, but now, there’s an ache of a different kind, a deep, resonating need I’m not sure how to deal with.

“You’re right,” I murmur, my voice hoarse. “About that bath…”

Xaden’s hands gently guide me to my feet, his fingers lingering on my hips just a moment longer than necessary, as if making sure I’m steady before he lets go. His touch is firm but considerate, grounding me, reminding me that he’s here, present, in this moment. I almost wish he didn’t have to pull away so soon, but the space between us feels impossible to close for reasons I can’t quite name.

With a soft grunt, Xaden rises to his full height, towering over me for a moment before he reaches down and picks me up again, effortlessly moving me toward the bed. His strong arms encircle my waist, and I feel the heat radiating from his chest, the power in his body that he keeps so carefully controlled. He sets me down gently on the edge of the mattress, the softness of the sheets a stark contrast to the tension that still crackles in the air between us.

I sit there for a moment, watching him, as he turns toward the bathroom, his broad back stretching as he moves, his muscular frame rippling with every step. His windblown black hair falls just above his collar, and I can't help but stare at the way he walks—confident, purposeful, but there’s an undercurrent of something, a quiet storm inside him that’s barely contained.

The silence feels heavy, too heavy, until I finally speak up, the words tumbling out before I can stop them.

“... Maybe you could join me?”

The moment they leave my mouth, time seems to slow. Xaden freezes in his tracks, his hand hovering over the doorframe, his back to me. For a breathless second, I wonder if he didn’t hear me, if the words just got lost in the space between us. But then, the tension in his body is palpable. His shoulders tighten, his jaw clenches, and I watch as a low, almost imperceptible sound slips from his throat—a frustrated, breathy exhale that he seems to be holding back with all his strength.

He doesn’t turn around right away, but when he does, his eyes meet mine, and there's a flicker of something dangerous there. It’s not anger. It’s hunger—raw, palpable, and so intense that it sends a shiver down my spine. I can't look away, can't tear my gaze from his. The silence between us stretches, thickening, until I can almost feel the heat coming off of him.

"You really want that?" His voice is low, a little strained, like he's trying to rein himself in. There's a slight tremor in his hands, and his posture is tense, like a coil ready to snap. He’s trying to keep himself in check, and I know he’s holding back everything he wants to say, everything he wants to do. But there's something in his eyes, a flicker of vulnerability, of yearning, that betrays the composure he’s trying so hard to maintain.

I nod slowly, heart pounding in my chest as I search his face, looking for any sign of hesitation, any clue that I’ve crossed a line. But there’s none. Instead, he takes a step toward me, his movements slow and deliberate, as if he’s waiting for me to stop him, to give him some sort of excuse to turn back. But I don’t.

I don’t know what happens next, only that the space between us feels like it’s been stretched so thin that it could snap at any moment. Xaden is so close now, his presence overwhelming, and I can’t breathe, not properly. All I can do is stare at him, feel the pull, the need between us, and wonder if he can feel it too.

“Don’t tempt me,” he mutters under his breath, before stepping into the bathroom, leaving me to wonder if he’ll give in, if he’ll actually let this tension between us break.

Part Two ⇒ Giving Into Temptation

Fourth Wing Masterlist TAG LIST - updated 12th Oct 2024

@xadenswhore @fanficscuziranout @daisydark @Mariahoedt @marrass @

[lisianpeia]

I got so excited listening to the playlists people shared that I actually made one. So here it is. I’ve never done this before XD

anyone know a good spones playlist?

[maskedbyghost]

Stalker

ex-husband Simon, your favorite stalker, a bit possessive, part two?

You can feel it, can’t you? Someone is watching. Every move you make...someone is there, lurking. It all started a few months ago, right after the divorce. Back then, you brushed it off, thinking it was just the loneliness, your senses playing a cruel joke with you. But now, you can’t ignore it anymore.

Oh, how you wish Simon were here to chase away the lurking shadows. But he made it clear—he doesn’t care anymore. If he did, you’d still be married.

Of course, he didn't use those exact words, he didn't even have to say anything, you just knew it based on his actions. Always working, stationed at the base, or off on some long mission. No texts, no calls, no signs that he missed you or regretted leaving you alone for so long.

What were you supposed to do—wait for him forever? Sleep in an empty bed, cook meals for one, celebrate anniversaries alone? No, thank you. If he wanted to, he would. Plain and simple.

You thought about it for a long time, and when you finally sent the divorce papers, hoping for even a hint of regret, he simply signed them and sent them back. Later, he told the lawyer you could keep everything. He didn’t even call to hear your reasons, which is for the best, probably, fuck him and the years you've spent together.

But now, as you feel someone watching you from across the street, you can’t help but wish Simon was still the man he used to be—the one who would have chased away anyone who dared to harm you.

But you’re not sure if your stalker wants to harm you, at least not yet. He always kept his distance until you found a bouquet of tulips, your favorite flowers, sitting in your kitchen. That’s when the fear set in. He had been inside your house, and the cameras didn’t catch a thing.

Next to the delicate petals, you found a note. It said: ‘You looked beautiful in that red dress last night. Too bad your date didn't appreciate it.’ As you read the words, a chill ran down your spine. Your friends had pushed you into that date with a guy who didn’t even call afterward, despite the evening going well. Now, you can’t shake the feeling that this stalker of yours had to do something with that.

Did he scare the guy off? Even if that was true, why hadn’t he approached you directly?

The note and the flowers only deepened your unease. You found yourself glancing over your shoulder every time you left the house, checking for shadows or strange movements. The feeling of being watched became almost unbearable.

Days passed, and the unease settled into a constant anxiety. You started checking the security footage obsessively, but it always showed nothing out of the ordinary. It was as if he had a way of slipping in and out of your life without leaving a trace.

Every day, a fresh set of flowers awaited you after work. Tulips, daisies, roses—all your favorites. Each bouquet was accompanied by a new note, but Mr. Stalker never stepped out of the shadows, never made direct contact with you.

'Just a little something to make you smile.'

'These flowers are a reminder: I’m always watching.'

'These flowers are just the beginning.'

'You’re mine in every way that matters.'

Those are just a few notes you got over the past two weeks. You even contacted the police, but their response was less than helpful. They claimed there was nothing they could do and dismissed it as the work of a shy admirer. But there was nothing shy about stealing your underwear, you thought. And yes, you had definitely noticed the absence of your underwear since this all began.

One night, as you were trying to wind down from another exhausting day, your phone rang with an unknown number. A sense of dread washed over you as you answered.

“Hello?” you said, your voice trembling. There was no response, just silence on the other end. You repeated, “Who is this? What do you want?” but the silence remained.

The call ended abruptly, leaving you feeling unsettled and anxious. Minutes later, your phone buzzed with a new message. You hesitated before opening it, your heart pounding. The message read: 'I just wanted to hear your beautiful voice.'

And now he has your number? You wondered if this was a new tactic to unsettle you further or if it was a sign that the stalker was becoming bolder.

In the days following the phone call, the messages continued, each one more personal than the last. 'You look beautiful with your hair down.'

Along with the messages, the stalker began sending gifts—more flowers, small trinkets, and sometimes even items that felt oddly personal, like a charm bracelet with an engraving of your initials. Each gift was accompanied by a note, one note even read, 'Soon, we’ll be together.' The fuck you will, you thought.

The gifts and messages weren’t the only signs of the stalker’s presence. A few times, you noticed a shadow moving outside your window—brief glimpses of a figure that vanished before you could get a clear look.

Tonight, you decided to take a walk to clear your mind. You quickly changed into comfortable clothes, grabbed your jacket, and checked that you had your phone and keys. As you reached for the door, you took a deep breath, hoping the fresh air would help you feel better. But when you opened the door, you were met with a sight that froze you in your tracks. Standing just outside your door, barely an arm's length away, was him. His presence was both shocking and surreal. He looked directly at you, a strange mixture of relief in his eyes.

"Hello, love."

"Simon?"

[sukioyakio]

“Use me then”- R. 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀

PART TWO IS OUT

Sukuna hadn’t been the best person in your life,he was a dumb fuck and he knew that.He knew he shouldn’t have left you alone when you needed him the most.

When you were pregnant with his baby girl.He knew he fucked up.Moreover his whole life has been fucked up,finding his parents died in a young age and how he knew that violence was the thing that bring him a long way.

Foster home wasn’t just hell but a free for all,only those who are willing to make a name out of themselves will get to see a future themselves.He would have to learn that having feeling is just a useless thing.

After being heartbroken by someone he thought he could love,after being someone punching bag for entertainment and being beaten almost to death.Scars all over him with each of them being a reminder of how bad it was for him.

He didn’t get to live a normal life when he was younger constantly fighting for himself.He became more cruel and more cold,no longer giving a fuck about anyone else.

He knew that nothing he could make up for his own mistakes for treating like you did anything to deserve it.

You both knew each other from college but that not when you guys started dating,you started to date after a one and a half year later.

You fell for him despite of his frigid behavior.You wanted to prove that you would be the best girlfriend.You were just a hopeless romantic and you didn’t care about his cold behavior.

And he just accepted it to only used you for his benefits.

But no matter what you did he’ll just blocked you out and constantly being used.And when you guys did it,he forgot to put the condom on and so a week later you had called him when he was flirting with some other girl at a bar.

he just told you that he’ll come later.

While he was cheating with you with someone else,you were excited about it,to tell him about the future you had thought about.And how you couldn’t wait to be a mother.

But when you had open the front doors to your apartment,something in your gut told you that you weren’t going to like this talk but you were love sick idiot for him and completely ignored that feeling.

When you were talking about how your day went,being animated and all.He nonchalantly told you just to get to the point.

You had such a big smile on when you announced it. “I’m pregnant! Sukuna I’m having your baby,we’ll be parents”

You looked at him with warm smile to only see his eyebrows furrowed down in an utter disbelief.You said it again guessing that he didn’t hear you correctly but his face made a unreadable expression as he started to walk towards the door.

All in that moment you could almost hear the tearing sound of your heart being broken into pieces and it hurt.

“Sukuna?”

“Sukuna?”

“Sukuna!?”

“SUKUNA?!?”

You yelled at him while running after him grabbing his wrists pleading with him,cause you didnt know if you’ll be okay with just yourself supporting a baby.Your lips were trembling and your every breath was like it was venom had token your lungs.

Tears were flowing down your cheeks.And he just stood there with complete silence.You began to beg for him to talk,for you guys to talk about it together.

“Please don’t l-leave me , p-please” you choke on your tears.Red optics eye bore into her widened,watering eyes.Finally saying something to you.

“I think it just better to break up” He says that and nothing more and then snatched off his hand now walking away leaving you alone with hot painful tears flowing down your cheeks.

The only thing you heard was the sounds of his Shoes slowly getting quieter until it was just silence.Your heart right there summer in the depths of your chest broken by your vision of love.

It was a vast expanse of emptiness,where even the smallest sound wouldn’t dare not tread the silence. [*]

A few years later Sukuna was now more stable than before,Having a big success with his company.

Making collaboration with other big brands and marketers.Having multiple modeling teams to make sure of his presence is well known and that only made a fan base of him.He was making multiple big deals that people would only dream off.

He was particularly smart at making sure that his company wouldn’t go down anything time soon.Even after all this success in Japan he would still have much more work to accomplish in others countries but he doesn’t have to worry about that right now.

He now had everything that he never had when he was young and everything he’ll need.Every decision he made was to make it all work in the end.

Right?

But some wounds weren’t meant to heal and some will eventually hurt you more than others.

When he left you he thought that he would be the best for him and for you too.He didn’t want any of unavoidable feeling of love,it wouldn’t do anything but drag him. He already knew at some point he was going to break up with you sometime soon.

But your voice of pain still rings throughout his head after all these years.Sometimes even coming back as nightmares or some sorts.

He thought that maybe if he just have nights stands he would get over it.It irritated him for some reason.He didn’t need some extra feelings of you.

But nothing worked,and now he’s sit in his office at random point of time thinking about what was the gender of his baby.

But now he knows that he is the worst father ever to have.And he didn’t have to hear those words from anyone else to tell him that.The better thing to do is just to move forward and forget about it.

It was just a normal day walking around the city without the need of being followed or being bothered by the paparazzi or whatever the case would be.

The sun light shining the city with a bright golden glow making the city warm.And with the sun shining it’s companion with the wind breeze keeping citizens of Tokyo from dying from the heat.In perfect sense it was a great day to go out and enjoy the day off.

Multiple citizens walked through the streets of Tokyo the streets were filled with lifeness sparkling with color all around and people walking with a smile or with a sense of urgent need to get to a certain place.While Sukuna didn’t have any place to go to so he just walked throughout the city even the high crime rates part of Tokyo.

The only reason he wasn’t getting bothered was because he had a black washable dye and it work wonders and having his tattoos covered by makeup. No one recognize him.

Now he made his way towards a park,to get away from the crowd of people.His body walking down the entrance of it.Completely in his head space enjoying the scenery.Not minding the children running around with their sequels.

Until he heard a voice in the group of parents with their children who were playing or watching their children play.

A distant Laughter came through the group there;A laugh he knew too well.His legs taking him towards that voice without even noticing his actions. His large figure making it way to move around,his eyes looking around in such an intense manner.

His body froze,his mind going silent.As his almost blood like eyes widened.His heart slowly beating against his chest.

He spotted a child with striking pink long hair with such a radiant laughter,a young girl that is made his heart began to filled with warmth.

Something that he thought was meaningless.

Sukuna’s heart raced with uncertainty as he faced the unknowingly future.

He just stood there watching the girl with an urge to ask the girl question.Whether if the girl dyed the hair pink or did she ever get to see her dad or-And then you showed In his view.

“There you are,you little troll” you spoke with a playful voice,grabbing your daughter and swinging her around in the air.You were smiling so care carefullyfree,with the little spawn of joy giggling wildly.

“PffhaHahhaha!!Stop it mom!Your gonna get me dizzy if uou continue” The young girl says as her laughter danced through the air like a soft melody.

The world blurs itself out as he watches you.when he sees you he immediately knows that you were something that shouldn’t have been token so dryly;all the nights were you were there for him,all the love you spent on him and what did he gave you in return.

Nothing,nothing not even a small amount of time of love to you.You have every right to hate him for that.

There a lot of ‘what if’s’ in his mind but one thing is certain that he would’ve had a family.

He probably didnt know that he was looking at you guys to long.That was until your eyes meet his making eye contact.

Their stares remained interlocked, neither of them making a move to look away.It you could tell who is his even with all the disguise.Your eyes widened with disbelief as Your face turned into an icy expression.You turned your head now forcing yourself to walk forward paying attention to your daughter that was in your arms.

Sukuna soul felt burdened with the echoes of her sorrows.

“It doesn’t matter now,at least that their better without me” Sukuna spoke in his mind,but he’s heart felt heavy like it knew that if he thinks by walking away from all this is going to make it better then he wrong.

Blinded by his own heart he walks after you,keeping his composure straight and stern.As he reaches his hand to lay his hand on your shoulder,getting your attention and your daughter as well.

Your head turned around to see his body but you stare up to see his ironic red eyes the same one you have nightmares about,the same one that broke your heart a thousand times.

The same blood like eyes that you fall in love with.

Your heart sting with dreadful pain just from looking at him,you knew it was him even if he’s hide his most dominant features.

Your daughter looks at you with concern that you don’t mistake it for sadness.

You place her down on the ground and whipser her something softly,to not her pretty face worry about it.You told her simply to wait and sit in the grass until she come back then they will get ice cream after and which she does.

Now paying mind to him as you changed your expression to the same icy expression.

“What do you want” You said straight to the point as you won’t allow yourself to break down again infront of him.

Nothing come out,because he didn’t know what to say to you,Nothing came out of his mouth.He usually always had something to say.

You couldn’t take it,you hated the man that stand in front of you.

”I doubt you’ll forgive me for all of this-

you instantly interrupted him.

“it too late for apologize Sukuna,you already showed me that I’ll have to be guarded when it comes to giving people my heart.”

You said heartlessly,almost with coming out hurt.But you didn't stop there,all the suspense emotions were coming out.

“God I hate you! I hate you for leaving me!!A simple Fucking sorry ISNT going to make up for the things you made me go through! You-tears falling down your cheeks rapidly-… I fucking hate you.I hate that I fell for you,g-Gave you my heart for what?”

You wipe off your tears.Your voice rising in pitch as your eyes brow knitting together in frustration and hands clenching tightly in a ball into fist.

“B-but I’ll n-never . . Hate you for her,for g-giving me a beautiful g-girl”

you said with a sad smile that quickly removed from your face,Your chest rising up and down.As you could hear the voices of the kids giggling in the background.

The tension between you and him was unpalatable,the air was so thick that it felt like he was going to suffocate.

A pair of warm hands warp around you pulling you into a warm embrace.

“I-I -a heavy sigh came out of his mouth- . . . Sorry,I don’t -no I know that you won’t forgive me.You have every reason to yell at me, . . tell me that I’m shit for everything.” His voice swiftly He felt your hands were pushing him away but he continued on his embrace.He could fell your tears dampen his clothes.

“L-let go of me . . . I Don’t h-have time for you-u,i don’t need you anymore in my life,Sukuna.So it better if we just don’t talk.”

His throat felt so dry like as if he didn’t drink any water.He fucked up so badly.A wound that would never heal.You politely removed your body from his embrace and wipe your face with your hands wiping off the tears.Now walking away from him and towards where your daughter was.

The wind blows gently through your body as you see your daughter playing around with a boy with black hair;smiling with joy, making you form a small smile.

You felt a hand on your shoulder immediately knowing it was Sukuna,you brushed off his hand off your shoulder.Before you could even get anything out your mouth.

“Use me then”

A shiver ran down her spine as his voice took on an eerie, otherworldly quality of vulnerability.That made her question if it was the wind that was playing with her mind or it just herself thinking that she heard him in such a state.

”what” You said with disbelief lancing your voice,Your uncertainty was reflected in your hesitant movements and furrowed brow.

You tilted your head in confusion,your eyes trying to discern the almost-too-serious expression on Sukuna face.Just for Sukuna repeat his words.

“Use me then” He said in a serious manner,His red eyes looking straight at you.He knew what he was saying was stupid and wouldn’t cure anything but it worth trying.

Your eyes widens lanced with disbelief.you let out a huff out laugh as you ran your finger though your hair.

“What . . No Sukuna,I-a deep shaky sigh gets out of your lungs- I told you I want nothing to deal with you” You said with a bit of raspiness to your voice from the crying and yelling.You eyes finally looking at Sukuna’s eyes.His eyes usually showed a stern cold expression but right now it soften and regretful glazes upon his blood like eyes.

“Use me then, Use me for money,for paying your bills,driving you and her placing,Use me for anything,it doesn’t matter” He said as you just notice how close he got to you.You could hear it now,it wasn’t your mind playing tricks on you;you could hear that vulnerability in his voice so much clearer.

You didn’t know what to say or respond to him,your mouth was shut and like it sealed up.That until you felt a strong hit towards your knee,to only see your daughter squealing.

“MOMM!! Hahah-HELp me!!Before Cole Comes and get me!!” Your daughter says with A loud giggle as She let go of your legs and runs a distance away from you and Sukuna to get playfully tackled by a boy with black hair and purple eyes.

You hadn’t completely forgotten his offer,You take a deep breath before looking at your phone to see how much time as pass.

His eyes were dead set on you but You can see that he’s eyes had a bit of amusement in them.To you you could recognize him even if he had black hair or hide his tattoos on his face and body,you could still tell it him from his red ironic eyes.His body cast a shadow over you.

“I-ill think about this later” You said,now completely walking towards your daughter.With head now full of thoughts now.As you smiling see your daughter ‘Nova ryomen’ Tackling the boy down with a playful smirk on her soft cheek.

You told her that it time to go home and to say goodbye to the boy,which she kinda refused to do having a big sad pout of your cute little face.But she eventually did,as you hold her hand in and then taking her to a ice cream shop for her.You order with a genuine smile on your lips as you watched her eat her ice cream while you guys were walking towards the house.

“use me then”

his words were repeated in your head like a curse.You don’t need him anyway right?You just gotta keep moving forward even if life isn’t the best for you but it could be and will be better for nova.That night you had received a text from a unknown person but you ignore it went to sleep.

Credits to my lovely editor(my bestie) who I made her read this 🫶.

tag list: @10yo-anonnie @scoobysnakz @lynxslokley @kenntolog

+anyone want to be tagged in part2

@mononijikayu

Made by @sukioyakio

reblogs, likes and shares are always welcome and appreciated

If anyone has any comments of suggestion of part two then be my guest

PART TWO IS OUT NOW!!

[infiniteimaginings]

chase davenport x reader pls the lab rats fandom is in a drought 🙏

I Missed You (Chase Davenport x GN!Reader)

Summary: Chase has been overworking himself with school, missions, his family, everything. He hasn't had time to see you recently, and no matter how he tries to open his schedule something else is added to his plate. So, you pay him a little visit just so he can take a break for a little while. Pronouns: You/Yours, They/Them Warnings: I won't lie, this is kinda angsty (but it ends on a good note!) Word Count: 1.4k A/N: THIS IS MY HUSBAND BY THE WAY. PLEASE REQUEST HIM MORE I BEG YOU GUYS! PLEASE! PLEASE, DO IT FOR ME!

One month, two weeks, one day, six hours, and twenty-nine minutes.

It’s been one month, two weeks, one day, six hours, and twenty-nine minutes, no, thirty minutes since the last time Chase Davenport had seen you in person. Along with that, it had been eight days, twelve hours, and seventeen minutes since he had last talked to you on the phone, since the last time he heard your voice. 

He had been keeping count because, god, he missed you so much. 

Davenport had him working on their next presentation of lab equipment, he had to go on a plethora of missions that have spiked up recently, there had been visits from their grandma, the house system had been tapped into three times, and he had to keep up with schoolwork on top of it all. 

He was exhausted, and all he wanted was to see you. He wanted to be in your arms, to hold you, to hear how your day was, just to be around you. But, he wasn’t. He wasn’t able to do any of that, instead he was in the lab, alone, trying not to fall asleep or pull his hair out.

Chase was the smartest person alive, he had abilities that people would kill for. He was relied on, because he is irreplaceable and a necessity to everyone around him. He is trustworthy, responsible, and far greater than he gives himself credit for.  

His family adores him, they do, even if sometimes they show it weirdly. Jabs with their words, or in Adams case their elbows, small comments, but they show the love. Chase knows they love him and that they care about him, they’re his family. Adam and Bree are his siblings that he grew up with, they love each other, even if they have a weird way of showing it. They are Davenports greatest creations and he reminds them of how important they are to him. Tasha is his mom, he finally got a mom and she cared for him like no one ever had. Then Leo, Leo is his brother who showed him, Adam, and Bree a world they never thought they’d be able to see. 

So many people care for Chase, but…None of them could ease him how you do.

You were just different. It’s as if when Chase felt the entire world crumbling around him, when all the lights got dark and he suddenly felt like he had no solutions, you held your hand out to pull him out of his drowning fears. You saw the ugliest parts of him, the most violent, the cruel, the broken parts of him that no one had tried to fix, and you still smiled at him. You still held his hand, even through the darkness, and you even said you were scared.

When you told him that, he almost blocked out every word after. The thought of you being scared of him, even a bit, crushed him. Chase almost pulled back, he almost told you to let him go, to let him disappear into that dark forest of unknown feelings but you wouldn’t.

He remembers so clearly when you told him:

“I’m honestly a little scared that you’ll go so deep into the code of your chip, looking for what’s happening to you…that you’ll forget you’re still human.”

Chase put his forehead on the table, groaning at the ringing in his ears. He needed to get all of this done. He would say the sooner he got everything done, the sooner he would get to see you, but everytime he tried, something new was thrown onto him.

It was all so frustrating that when he reached his newest project he just dropped his head to the table, hands gripping his hair shakily. He could feel tears stinging his eyes, and a bit of blood drew from how hard he was biting his lip to stifle any sobs that dared to pass his lips. 

He had never felt so overwhelmed before in his life, usually he was so used to the work. He was used to doing everything accordingly, but it all suddenly felt like too much. He didn’t know what he was doing wrong to feel like this, he didn’t know what he was doing so wrong to the point he couldn’t just finish all of the work.

As Chase thought of all this, your words constantly repeated in his head, just as they had the past few weeks. You were scared that he wouldn’t remember his own human feelings, because he was so used to being treated as if he was robotic.

Your concern just caused Chase to tear up even more, clutching at his chest. He could feel his heart beating, he could hear it through the ringing.

When did he forget that his heart was still beating in his chest? When did he forget that he was more than just the chip in his neck?

During his processing thoughts, he didn’t hear the sound of the lab door opening. He didn’t hear the sound of footsteps approaching him. He was usually so on guard, he had ultra-sensitive bionic hearing, how did he not hear someone coming up behind him?

A hand was placed on his back, startling him immediately. Chase quickly wiped his tears, turning to the person swiftly, ready to scold them for sneaking up on him. That was until he looked up and made eye contact with…

You.

You stood there, a frown painting your face as you analyzed Chase with your eyes. 

He stared, agape, lips parted, pupils shaking, face flushed as you observed him. He couldn’t tell if you were actually there or if he had been working so long to the point he had gone delirious.

You stepped forward, hands cupping his cheeks, thumbs swiping at the wet corners of his eyes. “You were crying?” You whispered, mostly to yourself, but Chase heard it, you knew he did.

The brown haired boy didn’t answer your question though, he left it ignored as if there was something more important than how he was feeling. To him, there was. That something was you.

The moment he processed that you were physically in front of him, he stood up as fast as possible, his head feeling as if it were spinning for a moment. He ignored the feeling and wrapped his arm around you, placing his nose into your shoulder, squeezing you tightly, “You’re here.” He mumbled, taking a deep breath. “You’re actually here.”

You nodded against him, gently petting his hair as you wrapped your own arms around him. “I am…” You trailed off, frown still on your face, “Is everything okay?”

Chase thought for a moment, leaving the two of you in silence, was everything okay? His face felt like it was burning and he wasn’t used to it, his eyes felt sore, his throat was a bit scratchy, and he still felt a bit dizzy.

But…

His heartbeat slowed down, his hands weren’t shaking, his breathing was regulated, his mind finally felt clear, and…You were there.

Chase smiled against your shoulder, nodding and holding you a bit tighter, “I missed you.” He told you, pulling back to see your face.

You blinked at him, a bit confused, tilting your head a bit. “Okay… how long have you been in this lab?” You asked him, now noticing how pale he looked, looking around and seeing the papers scattered around. You squeezed his arms a bit, “You need sunlight.” You stated, chuckling a bit, pulling him by his hand to the doors of the lab.

“I still have work-”

“Chase, the work can wait.” You told him seriously, shaking your head. “You are human.” You reminded him, flicking his forehead lightly, “You need proper food, sunlight, social interaction, and more importantly,” You paused, cupping his face, kissing the spot you flicked, “you need a break.”

His breath staggered in his throat a bit, but he found himself once again. Chase smiled at you, his eyes lighting up, “Okay, I’ll take a break.” He told you, placing his hands over your own.

“Thank you.”

He hummed, enjoying the contact, closing his eyes slightly to just stay in that moment with you. Chase opened his eyes once again, slowly to see you looking back at him, concern in your eyes. He smiled again, glad to be able to smile again, “I missed you, so much.”

“I missed you too.”

It had been seven minutes and twenty-six seconds since Chase Davenport was finally able to see you again, and he wasn’t going to let that time stop anytime soon.

[tranceinnumerabletabs]

When Johnny Comes Back pt.3

A/N: here it is! It's angsty though.

Click me! I'm part 1!

No Click me! I'm part 2!

-----

“This isn’t an official statement but he’d want me to tell you”

…..this…doesn’t look good

“Unfortunately-“ oh oh

.

.

.

.

Your mind was deafeningly empty.

All you could hear was your heart and ringing.

”Johnny’s been shot in the noggin’. Don’t know if he’ll pull through”

you don’t remember much else from the letter

To say you were in shock would be an understatement. This wasn’t just “shock” This felt like the world ceased to exist. You wish you could visit him, to check on him, to see him. But you can’t. You don’t know where he is. He could be halfway across the globe and there’s nothing you can do.

Nothing….

Your mind flashes through all the memories you made with him. Every laugh, every drink shared, every fight, everything….

The letter felt like lead and your body felt like jelly melting away and ceasing to exist like the rest if the world.

“Johnny is in the hospital”

You always knew his job was dangerous

“he’s been shot in the noggin’”

You always said he had a thick skull

“don’t know if he’ll pull through”

And yet you always waited for him.

“He couldn’t finish his letter but here it is”

You finally tear your gaze away from the letter and as soon as you did you wished you didn’t, you look at your home, and see all the things that remind you of him. They’re everywhere. Your laundry he’d sneak his clothes into, the breakfast bar he’d place your breakfasts on, the cat you were raising together, the kitchen you sang together in, your bedroom he’d visit when he had a nightmare and needed your attention, the couch you’d cuddle on. You couldn’t kid yourself anymore. You weren’t just “leaning onto each other” while he wrapped his arm around you, were cuddling on that couch and you enjoyed it. You enjoyed his insufferable presence. You enjoyed his touchy attitude and smug humor. You melted at his scent and roughhousing strength. You…you….

You shake as a sob wrecks you, you legs and arms felt non existent, only thing you felt...only thing you were was a hard heaving chest and a waterfall of tears.

Johnny

Sweet Johnny

Was in a critical care facility.

You wished you could see him, at least one last time. It’s cruel how much you now realize you….loved him. How much you grown to care for him. You may have not been in a “real” relationship but god damn it you loved him and it didn’t matter what kind of relationship it was. His laugh, his voice, his attitude, his flaws. You loved John Mactavish. And now?

You’re not sure you’ll ever see him again.

You felt so stupid so naive for every time you thought to yourself “when Johnny comes back” “when Johnny comes *home*”

There might be no more Johnny

The thought itself made you sob harder, falling deeper into despair.

----

By the time you “come back” a little while later, you had a headache from crying, your throat dry, your head dizzy and your legs sore from being on the hard ground. your cat Simon has been purring in your lap for however long. Maybe he got tired of hearing your cries so he started licking your tears away, still purring.

You hug Simon like he knew what was going on. He hugs you back, little paws gripping you.

You call up your friend, telling her the situation. She comes over soon after. You text you boss that you can’t come to work tomorrow.

Part four? I'm longer!

[anjeliquesworld]

Thaddeus x reader

Note: yes,I love Thaddeus 😭

I tried to highlight Thaddeus abandonment issues and his dark side so here's the final version,I hope you enjoy it 💋

Cw: obsession, stalking, thriller, manipulation, abandonment issues

---------------------------------------------------------

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Twisted Love

The moon lies high in the sky, full of stars, illuminating the empty streets of Kowloon Hell with its tender light, where darkness reigns and the nights seem endless.

Lying on the edge of the main rooftop:

Thaddeus.

His head full of thoughts.

~HIS POV:

Loneliness isn't just a horrible feeling; it's a companion that doesn't leave. My mind replays my past, each abandonment reminding me of how fragile I truly am. It's the weight of how easily people I cared about left me, as if I were a burden in their lives. It happened many times before—people have come and gone, and each departure left a scar deeper than the last.

"Ah, little bunny," I say, closing my eyes as I visualize your pretty face.

Your existence haunts me. The way you laugh when I make a stupid joke makes my heart skip a beat. That’s strange because I’ve always been good at keeping my distance, but with you, it's different. I can't stay away from you.

When I feel alone, I remember your small hands touching my face—gentle, soft strokes caressing me. You treat me as if I were someone worthy of your love. That’s why sometimes I’m overprotective: you’re too precious, and I don’t want you to suffer.

It’s funny, isn’t it? I pretend to be the good guy around you... I pretend to be the good friend—when in reality, I want to take you away from everyone. I just want to keep you safe from anyone who could hurt you. I’m the only one who can give you what you need.

You said it yourself the other day as we were walking to the park:

"You're the only one who truly understands me."

The affection in your eyes, that smile—no one ever gave me that. And I told you, playfully, "That's because we're meant to be." You blushed, looking so cute. But I wasn’t joking. We are meant to be. Together. Forever.

Sometimes, when the cold breeze of my domain envelops me, I wonder if this is what I deserve—being abandoned, left to face this cruel world alone. But when those thoughts overwhelm me, you come to mind. You’re the light that chases away the monsters.

I want to be the only one to whom you give your attention, your warmth, your smiles.

What I feel is not love.

No, it’s something darker, deeper.

Something I can’t control, something lurking in the back of my head, a sickening feeling—it’s obsession.

You’re not aware of the way I hide in the shadows to capture a glimpse of you. You don’t know how many times I’ve climbed up to your room to watch you sleep... so peaceful and innocent.

Too innocent for this world. Too innocent for me.

You’re too pure to be with someone as dark and twisted as me, but I am a selfish man. I have no intention of letting you go, little bunny.

My heart wouldn’t bear the sight of you in the arms of another man.

Before meeting you, it felt like I was invisible to everyone... a shadow fading into the background. Just one step away from being forgotten. But you, with your kindness, taught me that even I matter.

Sometimes I wonder if you feel it—if you feel my twisted love for you. When you look at me, I see it in those pleading, soft eyes of yours.

You can’t deny it, little one. You’re attracted to me, I know you are. You’re just too afraid to admit it.

But don’t worry. I’ll keep playing the charming prince for now. After all, I’m good at it.

"You're so cute when you blush, little bunny."

I chuckle, teasing you. "I'm sorry for teasing you... but I can't help it. It's just too fun."

We'll keep playing the cat and mouse as long as you want. I don’t mind.

At least I get to stay close to you.

Sooner or later, you will succumb to your desires.

You will come to me.

You have to.

You need me as much as I need you.

And I’ll be more than happy to satisfy you, my little bunny.

-------------------------------------------------------🎀

.

.

.

.

[sehtoast]

Give and Take (Homelander x Reader Smut)

18+ | 606 words | mild smut, emotional homie, he loves you, gender neutral reader | Fic Directory

He likes to be held afterward.

Face buried in your neck, nuzzling against you as he melts into you. Each pass of your fingers through his hair elicits a soft sigh or a hum of approval. 

He's still inside you, limp, trapping the proof of his love in there. He doesn't want to pull out either. You're so warm… so safe. And this way, he's a part of you. 

He suckles a small spot at your neck. To him it is soft, but you'll bruise anyway. His love has always marked everything it touched.

You've always loved him anyway. 

You hum as he does it. Your fingers trace up and down the length of his back and he shivers. 

Still so very afraid to believe that your love is unconditional. It's real. 

You are real. 

You don't send him away after everything is said and done. It's not a transaction to you, not a deal to be made for his good behavior or a stunt for your ratings. Sometimes he needed to be reminded, but it'd always make him cry. Something that should humiliate him, soothed away by kisses and whispers of love and the mere presence of you. 

He'll never have enough of you. Like an animal, starved and desperate, he clings to you. 

It's a mindless act when he starts to grind into you again. It's wet and messy and his breaths are hot against your neck. He doesn't move to arch over you, doesn't grip at the headboard he's destroyed in countless ways to protect you from himself– none of that. 

He's slow, each thrust a combination of care and laziness. Needing more no matter how much he'd settled down. 

By the time the moans start, he's rutting into you, face still buried in your neck, hands gripping your sides. Your name falls from his lips like prayers repeated over and over to the only god he'll ever believe in. 

He used to tell himself all the time that he’d never have this.  Much as he always hated to admit it, he knew that what came before you was, at best, something ugly– something cruel and greedy.  He was a tool to be used and discarded, a toy to be thrown away when he broke or they got bored.

He stopped believing that would ever change, but then you came along.  

You, with your soft, kind eyes, your warm smile, your touches of love and your words of honey stumbled into his life by chance.  He’s never been more grateful for the disorganized webs of fate in his entire life.

He used to be so afraid that you were temporary.  He knows better now.  Somehow that is just as scary, if not more, as not knowing.

You intend to stay with every fiber of your being.  You adore him.  You love him.

You fucking love him.

Your hands ghost up and down his back as he finishes and settles again.  One snakes up into his hair to scratch and pet, the other thumbing at his hip.  You nuzzle against him and he lets that last scrap of tension fade from his body.  

He breathes you in like you’re the last breath he’ll ever take.  You hold him like he’s the last thing you’ll ever touch.

You give.  He takes.

“I love you,” he whispers near silently into the crook of your neck.  “I love you so much.”

He gives. You take.

You know that he feels vulnerable every time he says it.

“I love you, too.”

You know he feels so much better when you say it back.

You’ll always say it back.

[theskee]

thinking a lot about Them this morning and i already went on a mini ramble on bluesky but i gotta just dump more detailed brainrot here because this is where most of my fellow emmcanis lovers are but like

there's a dialogue that comes up between emmrich and lucanis if treviso isn't saved. and emmrich is concerned about lucanis, his emotional state, and what it might do to him and spite. and lucanis kinda snips at him about whether or not he actually cares or if it's weird professional curiosity. because lucanis is so damn raw. it reminds me of how he snaps at rook when rook suggests lucanis talk to emmirch and says "he looks at me like a thesis topic" and there is some level of truth to emmrich being curious about what's happened.

but the thing that comes through the strongest, every time it comes up, is that emmrich thinks what's happened to lucanis and spite is unfair and horribly cruel, but that there's hope for them. that they can find harmony and survive.

so in this dialogue, where lucanis is short and defensive, emmrich's response is simply a promise. that he'll be there, to look out for lucanis and spite, no matter what. emmrich has seen some shit in his time as a watcher, and he hates suffering. he knows loss. i think there's such a depth of empathy and understanding that he has for lucanis, who is coping with the loss of everything important to him, so suddenly and senselessly, and emmrich knows intimately how difficult that is, especially when you're trying to get a handle on unexpected changes to who you are as a person that are outside of your control. emmrich began to talk to spirits after his parents died. while going through so many life changes, along with the manifestation of his magic, he began to talk to the dead, something we know he didn't master until he was an adult.

how jarring must it have been, to have lost his family, and for distant relatives to have rejected the responsibility of taking him in, to suddenly have magic and have the dead talking to you? i think in a lot of ways, emmrich feels especially strongly for lucanis and his situation because he can see parallels between them.

and emmrich is patient. he never takes it personally when lucanis rebuffs his support. he's calm. he lets lucanis reject it. and eventually, we know lucanis softens up and lets emmrich help him.

lucanis goes to emmrich for help keeping himself and spite contained, and emmrich sets wards for him. more than once. when lucanis is alone in the dining hall, he questions why emmrich is still hanging around, and emmrich simply expresses that he thought lucanis might want the company. emmrich understands loneliness. keenly. he knows it well.

and lucanis goes to emmrich. timid, exhausted, and asks if emmrich has time to talk, because spite won't leave him be. and emmrich is so gentle and welcoming, insisting he will always have time if lucanis needs to talk. emmrich will stop what he's doing to create a safe place for lucanis to express himself and open up about how hard it is. and emmrich is kind. he's there. he's steady and he understands more about the nature of what lucanis is going through than most. he has the most hopeful perspective of it possible, from the very start, that despite the tragedy of the way it began, that lucanis and spite will survive together, because of each other.

he encourages lucanis to bond with spite and read to him.

and then... on the other side of it. lucanis is direct with emmrich in a way emmrich needs. when it comes to the topic of lichdom and immortality, lucanis confronts emmrich with something that i think emmrich needs to hear. that undead forever is still dead. and he asks why emmrich would want to outlive everything he's ever loved. just as emmrich has so much acceptance for Spite, this thing that Lucanis is afraid of and wrestling with, lucanis has acceptance for death. all things end, is what lucanis says. and that's okay.

when i look at these interactions, and add them to all the little things, like Spite growing attached to Manfred or Manfred breaking into Lucanis room-- the debates and the references to their companionable time drinking fine wine together, out of glasses Lucanis bought for Emmrich, and all their little cultural back and forths and i just. in the final run up to elgar'nan, emmrich tries to thank lucanis for the wine glasses. he's trying to get his affairs in order. and lucanis tells him no. don't do that. no squaring up. it's bad luck. and it just screams of subtext, of reassurance that we're not dying here today. when death seems so fucking certain and emmrich is so afraid of it. my heart for these two.

i know it's might not be as fun or full of friction as the enemies to lovers vibes one gets from say, davrin & lucanis (which omg what's not to love) but the slow burn of rejection to acceptance to closeness-- the inherent intimacy of sharing space with another person who understands your fear. and doesn't let you linger in it alone... i just. am so so so in deep with this pairing.

[airybcby]

i didn't know the spotify wrapped event was ending n u were starting a new event ... 🍊 🍫 w sae😈😈

dawg I'm coming back to ur acc every day now I love ur works

💌

awee thank you so much, that's so sweet :,)

a sae itoshi chocolate covered orange

જ⁀♡⊹｡° don't you say you've missed me

♡ a/n — for my more than a married couple event !

♡ content — sae itoshi x gn! reader, ex bf! sae, sae itoshi x gn! reader, second chance romance, slight pining?, angst (kinda)

♡ synopsis — sae itoshi broke your heart years ago, and this simulation is giving him the perfect opportunity to do it again.

It was almost cruel how life worked sometimes. Out of all the people in the world, it had to be him.

Sae Itoshi stood across from you, his posture perfect, his expression unreadable as the instructor explained the expectations of the marriage simulation program. He hadn’t so much as glanced your way, and you hadn’t said a word to him either.

You wondered if he was as shocked as you were when his name was called alongside yours—or if he even cared.

The last time you’d spoken was years ago, back when the two of you were more than just strangers passing each other by. Back when his hand used to find yours in crowded places, and his words carried a softness that now seemed impossible to imagine.

Back when you still believed in him.

The shared apartment was unnervingly quiet that first evening. Sae unpacked in silence, his every movement precise and deliberate. You tried to busy yourself by organizing your side of the space, but the weight of his presence was impossible to ignore.

“So,” he said finally, his voice cutting through the stillness like a blade. “This is awkward.”

You turned to face him, surprised he’d broken the silence. His expression was calm, but there was a faint edge to his tone.

“I didn’t expect to see you again,” you admitted, your voice quieter than you intended.

“Neither did I.” He looked at you then, his teal eyes sharp and assessing. “But it’s just a program. Let’s get through it and move on.”

His words stung more than you wanted to admit.

Despite his detached demeanor, Sae was annoyingly good at the simulation.

He remembered every detail the program tested on—your supposed "anniversary," your "favorite" flowers, even how you took your coffee. He played the part of the perfect partner effortlessly, charming the instructors and the other couples with ease.

But you knew better.

Behind the façade, he was as distant as ever. Every word he spoke, every gesture he made, felt rehearsed, like he was reciting lines from a script.

It reminded you of how things had been near the end of your relationship—the way he’d started pulling away, hiding behind excuses and half-truths until there was nothing left between you but empty space.

One evening, as you sat together at the kitchen table, going over the week’s assignments, you couldn’t hold it in any longer.

“Do you even care about this?” you asked, your voice sharper than you intended.

Sae didn’t look up from his notebook. “What do you mean?”

“This.” You gestured around the room. “The program, the simulation, us. Do you care about any of it, or is this just another thing you’re good at?”

He finally met your gaze, his expression unreadable. “Does it matter?”

“Yes,” you said, your chest tightening. “It matters to me.”

For a moment, he just stared at you, his teal eyes piercing. Then he sighed, leaning back in his chair.

“It’s just a program,” he said quietly. “None of this is real.”

But it had been real once.

You remembered the late-night phone calls, the stolen moments between his games and your busy schedule. The way he used to look at you like you were the only thing that mattered in the world.

And you remembered the way it all fell apart.

The arguments, the distance, the day he told you he was leaving for Spain—and the way he didn’t ask you to come with him. The way he didn't bother when you offered to do long distance.

The way he got over you so easily.

You’d told yourself you were over it. That you’d moved on.

But sitting there, across from him, the weight of everything unsaid between you pressed down like a storm cloud, and you wondered if you ever really had.

The final week of the program arrived, and with it, the “partner reflection” exercise.

Each couple was tasked with writing a letter to their partner, summarizing their experience in the program and what they’d learned. The letters would be shared during the final evaluation.

You spent hours staring at a blank page, the words refusing to come. What could you possibly say to Sae that hadn’t already been said—or left unsaid—years ago?

When the day came, you sat in the evaluation room, your letter clutched tightly in your hands. Sae sat beside you, calm and composed as always, his letter folded neatly on the table.

When it was time to read, he went first.

His words were precise, calculated, perfectly crafted to impress the instructors. He spoke about teamwork, communication, and personal growth, his tone polite but detached.

It was everything you expected—and nothing you wanted to hear.

When it was your turn, you hesitated. The letter in your hands felt heavy, the weight of all your unspoken feelings pressing down on you.

In the end, you set it down on the table, unopened.

“I don’t have anything to say,” you said quietly, your voice barely above a whisper.

The instructors looked surprised, but they didn’t press you.

Sae didn’t say anything either.

The program ended the next day.

As you packed up your things, Sae lingered by the door, his expression unreadable.

“This was… interesting,” he said finally, his tone carefully neutral.

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak.

For a moment, it looked like he wanted to say something more. But then he turned, his hand on the doorknob.

“Take care of yourself,” he said softly, without looking back.

And then he was gone.

As the door closed behind him, you felt a strange sense of finality settle over you.

Maybe this was how it was always meant to end—two people, once close, now strangers again, moving on in opposite directions.

You told yourself it was for the best.

But as you stood alone in the empty apartment, your chest ached with the weight of everything you’d lost.

i'm obsessed with 2nd chance romance

i hope you liked it!

likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!

[nhaomhi]

The Apartment We Won’t Share ◡̈

pairing: ex!jay x ex!yn

synopsis: in the aftermath of your broken relationship, you're haunted by the dreams of a life you once planned to share. an unexpected phone call stirs old emotions and bittersweet nostalgia. as you revisit your shared dreams and unspoken regrets, you find solace in eachother's voices, even if the life you imagined together will only live in your hearts.

genre: angst

word count: 0.5k

naomi’s note: i love this song sm 🥹🥹 it hurts so badly in a good way eshwbjsh

.*･｡ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ

The coffee in your hands had gone cold, but you didn’t care. You stared at the empty wall of your studio apartment, the one you used to imagine filling with pictures of you and Jay. Polaroids from your weekends, a corkboard of little memories pinned together like the life you thought you’d build. The future that seemed so close once now felt like a cruel mirage.

Jay’s words still echoed in your mind. “We’ll find a place together someday. Somewhere cozy. Just you and me.” He’d said it so casually, like it was inevitable. Like you were inevitable. But you weren’t.

You should’ve seen it coming. The way life pulled you apart little by little—his dreams in one city, yours in another. You’d promised to hold on, but promises don’t always survive distance and time.

Your phone buzzed, pulling you out of your thoughts. Jay’s name lit up the screen. It had been months since you last talked, but you could never bring yourself to delete his number.

You hesitated before answering. “Hello?”

“Hey.” His voice was soft, familiar, and it made your chest ache. “I… I don’t know why I called.”

You closed your eyes, letting the sound of him wash over you. “It’s okay. I don’t know why I answered.”

There was a pause, heavy with everything you weren’t saying.

“Do you still think about it?” he asked suddenly.

You knew what he meant. The dreams you had with each other. The ones you talked about so often they felt real. “All the time,” you admitted. “I still picture it sometimes. The little bookshelf you wanted to build. The ugly lamp you swore was ‘vintage.’”

Jay chuckled, but it was laced with sadness. “And the couch you said was too big, but I insisted on because I knew you’d fall asleep on it anyway.”

“Yeah,” you whispered, your throat tight. “I guess I still think about the life we almost had.”

“Me too.” His voice cracked, and you could tell he was holding back tears. “I don’t know why it ended like this. I thought we had more time.”

“Me too,” you said again, your own tears threatening to spill over.

For a moment, it felt like you were back in that imaginary apartment, curled up together on that oversized couch, laughing about nothing and everything. But then the silence crept back in, and reality reminded you that you were miles apart, in lives you’d built without each other.

“Jay,” you started, your voice trembling, “why did you call?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I guess… I just miss you. I miss us.”

You wiped at your eyes, hating how much you still loved him. “I miss us too. But missing you doesn’t change anything, does it?”

“No,” he said quietly. “But it still matters.”

You stayed on the phone for hours, talking about everything and nothing. It didn’t fix anything, but for a little while, it felt like you were sharing that apartment again, if only in your hearts.

And maybe that was enough. For now.

[onismdaydream]

tw: 18+ mdni. gn reader. anal fingering. mentions of toji's past abuse/upbringing. uncharacteristically soft for me. not proofread.

it's a rare thing, toji handing control over to you.

not that he doesn't trust you — he would place his life in your hands in a heartbeat, you know him far better than anyone else has ever come close to. he just feels safer when he's the one holding the reigns, no matter the situation. toji has spent too long around shady and shitty people that it's engrained in him to never let his guard down. let someone get the upper hand or be one step ahead of you and you're as good as dead.

but you...

you forced your way into toji's heart, kept pushing even when he pulled away, and carved your home in it. you made him learn to accept love, taught him that he deserves to love and be loved in return. showed him that there can be beauty in this cruel world.

though, he would never admit it — sincere and genuine expressions of emotions were still so foreign to him, but he was trying. there were other ways for him to show his affection, however. it would come in the form of his lips pressing against the top of your head when he thought you were asleep. his thumb rubbing circles on your hip when he held you close. his arm wrapping around your shoulder as you sat next to each other.

but there are moments when he felt more vulnerable, when he craves nothing more than your loving touch and sweet praise. he wants to deny those feelings, a nagging voice in the back of his mind that remind him of those days where he was forced to be on his own, thrown to the wolves without a care — inferior, weak, a mistake.

you're always there, though. always next to toji. always ready and willing and trying.

your touch is gentle where other's were not, soft and warm skin against his own, fingers tracing over the faint scars that litter his back. how he survived this long is a miracle. too many stupid and reckless decisions placing him in danger's way. you'd chastise him if you think it would make a difference. instead, you lean down, kissing down his spine and making him tense.

"'s okay, toji." he can feel your breath fanning against the small of his back, your fingers resting at his waistband. "i got you."

he's quieter when he's like this, almost as if he's afraid of what might come out of his mouth if he opens it. too in his own head.

and it's your job to get him out of there.

you take your time, admiring every inch of his body that you can reach as you strip him of his underwear. you don't want to rush this, wanting to savor each and every little reaction you pull out of toji. usually, all the attention was on you in the bedroom as he took you apart underneath him. you wanted to return the favor.

it's a simple rhythm you fall into with him. your fingers curl as you pump them in and out, a glossy sheen coating them and making the motion smooth. low groans and heavy breathing fill the space between the two of you, your sweet praise and compliments making toji's hips hump into the bed.

it doesn't take much longer for him to spill onto the sheets under him, a shudder working through his body as you pull your fingers out afterwards. he doesn't protest much as you wipe him down, letting you roll him over enough to clean his cum off his stomach.

he holds you close when you come back to him, pulling you into his chest and wrapping his arms around you. his way of thanking you, of saying i love you.

and you smile softly, pressing a kiss to his jaw.

i love you, too.

[bilbob963]

I know I said during the week in my last post but I was bored and kinda wanted to do this…

Sooo, what if Caine is the only one who can allow them to leave but only when the game is complete but…what if it’s not the actual game/ adventures…say that’s just part of the whole process and the actual adventure is them all finding themselves and learning that it’s ok to no be ok and they’re not alone.

Imagine it being like hypnosis therapy. There minds being thrown into a wacky world that represents the brain whilst the body is in a deep sleep and all these adventures, objects, buildings and NPCS are obstacles and lessons like memories, phobias, traumas, dreams, nightmares, child hood. Basically all that stuff that stands out in life. Your character is your players card or something that represents you and there’s other people there with you because end of day your not alone as many people a fighting silent battles with in the mind and soul… there is a lot I could say about this, the mind is a strange place, very familiar but unfamiliar at the same time…

Anyways, getting to the point of this pic…

- Ragatha needs to accept she can’t please everybody, instead she should be doing what makes her happy. She also needs to learn she can’t sugarcoat everything and sometimes you have to be cruel to be kind.

- Jax needs to understand it’s ok to be scared and it’s ok to show that vulnerable side, he also needs to learn that’s it’s ok to feel and show emotions other than hiding behind a fake smile.

- Zooble needs to understand that they’re perfect the way they are. We all get self conscious at one point but end of the day the only thing that matters is you and what makes you happy.

- Gangle needs to let it out, she needs to be heard. This new episode showed how much pain she’s holding in and how she’s struggling. Trying to stay calm whilst under pressure and yet so many thoughts and emotions going through your mind can be tough for anyone, maybe she needs someone to lean on and to tell her she doesn’t have to do this alone…

-Kinger I believe is trapped in his own mind due to a memory illness. Not being able to do nothing to some point where you’re imprisoned in your own head and mind and only certain things can remind you of those happy moments. It’s tormenting, day after day forgetting who you are in and out. What Kinger needs is the whole gang to help get him out that dark pit and in the right environment where he feels comfortable and everybody’s there to remind him who he is and what has. The positive things that help the memory and the emotions. He needs to be around people not pillows.

-Pomni, well gotta say I’m struggling for this one. The first and second episode she showed some social anxiety, not wanting to talk much or interact but yet keeping distant. she also doesn’t like being touched and seems very jumpy and fidgety so let’s say maybe there’s some kind of trauma/abuse like thing. Episode three she mentions a ‘he’ saying she belongs down in hell and saying he was right, bursting into tears but what we also see is her being a shoulder to cry on, someone who’s seems to be in the right place at the right time.

It’s gonna be one of those things where she’s gonna listen and give advice or something positive, the one to tell them it’s ok but who’s gonna be the one to listen to her and tell her it’s ok. Kinger did listen but like she said, soon as he’s back in light hell not remember…

Oookkaay, sorry for another long post. There’s so much to say and yet I haven’t got the brain capacity to word it so I do apologise if it doesn’t make sense or I’ve messed up somewhere. It’s 1:11 am and I need sleep haha these are just my thoughts tho so each to their own…goodnight/ morning or whatever I don’t care …

[winters-rose-daughterofcain]

Fine I'll talk about Bridgerton

One thing this season made really clear to me is that Lady Whistledown is in a way a coping mechanism. It was stared by a lonely, neglected, unhappy seventeen year old girl who felt like she could scream until she collapsed to the ground and it would be into a void because no one would fucking listen to her.

Her mother constantly berates and criticises her, her father (while alive) barely speaks to her and is seen off to the side drinking when he's meant to be chaperoning her, her sisters are openly cruel to her and are still favoured by their mother. She has few friends, and the two relationships she holds closest both have significant blocks to them, with Colin it's her unrequited feelings and..... tbh her and Eloise's friendship is a whole different post and while they clearly mean the world to each other, there where fundamentally issues long before Lady Whistledown was so much as a drop of ink. I think they are both at fault for them and I love both of them, but Eloise's biggest issue comes from just not listening to her and in general as a person having a bad case of tunnel vision and hyper focusing on certain things while completely missing others.

Pen is outcast from society from the moment she steps foot in it, ridiculed and despised by those around her and bullied by girls her age for literally no fucking reason. She is seen as unattractive and undesirable, she believes the fundamentally human want to be loved a silly childish delusion because she is told from every angle that she is not worth it. She's not even worth listening to.

I think her resentment and hurt had been building for a while, she's never under any assumption that she will be treated or seen better. How could she be? When she is constantly reminded how much she fails to be what is wanted or respected or valued, primarily by her own damn family. Still, she's a kind girl. She's sweet and attentive and a good listener, she's patient and reliable and, before Whistledown started, probably extremely loyal, if how much guilt she felt whenever she genuinely betrayed someone says anything. She's someone who has never felt or had any power, who has so much hurt and resent and bitterness from years of this shit building and building.

But she's also smart and witty and funny and extremely intelligent. She has a talent for writing and words and clearly has the potential to be successful. I think being pushed into society a year earlier than she wanted (again, because her mother wouldn't listen) pushed her over the edge. She wrote her observations, the things she learnt from being pushed to the side for so long down, and published them. I don't think she ever intended for it to be as big as it was, and I think the bigger it got and still gets the more in over her head she is. Because for once people listened, for once people cared, for once what she thought and said and worked for mattered.

It is a young girl gaining her first glimpse at power and being deeply unprepared for the consequences. When things go wrong and she doesn't know what to do and no one will listen to her as Penelope, this is the only way she can make them. No matter how disastrous the affects, using Whiseldown gets results, it just also hurts people, pushing her further and further down this cycle where Whistledown is one of the only thing that makes her feel better and allows her to process the things in her life, while hurting the people around her and making her more dependent on it.

She truly meant to give up Whistledown after the disaster with Eloise, but on that night she had her connection or trust from the two people who she cared about and who cared about her the most broken. With the fight with Eloise and then overhearing Colin she lost both of them in the span of an hour, what else dose she have aside from her writing?

And again at the ball in episode one. Even after a complete upheaval of her entire look she still fails to talk to those guys, she still isn't enough, it's proof it is not her youth or her mother influence something fundamental in her can't do this. Then Cressida rips her dress with Eloise standing right there, then Colin comes and (even tho she is incorrect) confirms to her that he too, is embarrassed by her. So what dose she do? When she's miserable and powerless? She writes. She takes it all out in Whistledown and says the (admittedly true which is why it hurt so much tbh) cruel things about Colin, which she regrets literally a day later after actually talking to him. Adding more guilt and keeping her stuck in this cycle.

It's a business definitely, and there are many parts of Whistledown she genuinely enjoys, but I don't think it's good for her. It hurts the people around her and it hurts herself, she's in over her head and definitely knows she should stop, but I don't think she knows how. She doesn't let herself rely on others enough to be okay without this one thing that has allowed her to cope and be heard and respected and valued. That's also why I think she couldn't have stopped before this season, now she's finally getting that, she's finally being listened to and respected and valued and being told she is worth something. Not by many people, and it is still too new to change the fundamental thought patters about it she has, but it's a start.

Now she just has to grapple with that fact that this thing that has given her a voice and found her comfort might just be the dealbreaker for the real people in her life who can actually offer her the love and care and respect she deserves and craves and has been denied for so so long. It sucks and it's a cycle she can't get out of now, she's made her own trap without knowing how she did it.

That's what happens when a 17 year olds coping mechanism continues and grows and expands for years, when people unknowing pay to see more of it, and when she doesn't really know what else to do. Whistledown is Pens choice and all her actions for better or worse, but it would not exist without the context of her life. It would not exist if Portia was a better mother, if she had better sisters or a better family. It would not exist of other girls her age were kinder to her, if they excluded her a little less. It would not exist if she were not seen as a lost cause for love before she had the chance to try. Lady Whistledown would not exist if someone just fucking listened to her.

[floral-ashes]

We had a rally before the Alberta Legislature today to oppose Danielle Smith’s cruel anti-trans policies. Here is the speech I read:

Danielle Smith is a hypocrite. She says parental rights, but what about the parents who want to support their child accessing gender-affirming care? What about the parents who want their child to know about Two-Spirit, queer, and trans people and receive quality sex education, but will have that choice taken away because of her policy?

She says she wants to keep trans youth’s choices open, but then turns around and bans puberty blockers, which exist precisely to give youth more time.

She says she only wants the best for trans youth, but she threatens to override their constitutionally guaranteed right to life, liberty, and security of the person. How can threatening the life, liberty, and security of a child ever be in their best interest?

Her words are lies. Her policies are a cover for the Tucker Carlsons of the world. For those people who want nothing more than for trans people to be kicked out of society, relegated to the shadow of the closet or the mound of an early grave.

She won’t succeed. They will not succeed. They cannot succeed because—even if they manage to pass their policies, even if they manage to circumvent the constitution and its Charter—they will never be able to stop us from fostering the pockets of care, love, and community that sustain life.

They will never stop us from reminding trans kids every single day that they are worth all we have, that they deserve all we have, and that they can and will grow up into the flourishing adults that I know they will be. This truth, I feel it all the way into the deepest recesses of my heart. Just as others’ love has nourished us, so will we nourish others with our love.

Despite it all, we will win. We will never stop fighting. We are tireless. And when we tire of fighting, we will find our second wind and only come back stronger. Danielle Smith and her UCP cronies will not know a second of rest until these policies are buried and they are ousted from power for their failures.

This is not the end of a story. This is not the end of our story. In the end, we will win. No matter how long it takes. Because trans people are worth it. Trans kids are worth it. They breathe spirit into the world. They bring light to each and every one of our lives. Trans people are divine. And what is light and spirit cannot lose. Despite it all, we will win.

[wonnieluvr]

forever with you

pairing -> grayson hawthorne x fem!reader

summary -> you break off your current relationship for grayson hawthorne, a past love. logically, you know you shouldn't but the heart wants what it wants.

warnings -> none :)

a/n -> some fluff for my love finally !! pt 3 of photographs of you and thinking of you

seeing grayson again had not been in your plans. at all. you didn't know how you were supposed to explain any of what had happened to your family or to your date. your boyfriend. it wasn't an engagement you had really wanted, just something that would put you a step further ahead in life and he was nice, he treated you well.

but he wasn't grayson. he wasn't your grayson.

that shouldn't have mattered, you mother reminded you harshly the minute word of your meeting reached your family. as you had returned to the gala your mother immediately cut in, having heard grayson's name, warning you not to make any rash decisions.

was it really a rash decision if you had been waiting years for a moment like this?

your date had quickly noticed the change in demeanour. he was swift to pull you away.

as you danced in a room full of people, it should have been him on your mind. he, who was touching you, holding you gently and dancing with you carefully. but it wasn't. no matter how hard you tried it wouldn't ever be.

"you love him" the words had startled you, but they weren't untrue. your boyfriend offered you a small smile, bittersweet and so understanding. you hated it. hated the way you had never fallen for one another. maybe then you would have had no trouble. it might have been simple. you had shared stories of those you had truly loved, first loves gone wrong. you had bonded over that. the hurt.

and here you were now, selfishly considering your second chance while he was stuck without one. "darling, you love him. you can't do anything about that" he dipped you softly, eyes saying everything as you stared at each other. "it's okay"

your eyes begun to water for the second time that night. "i can't do that to you" your voice was full of pain and sadness as you stood straight again. "i don't know if i can do this"

"stop it" he chided softly, brushing your hair back into place as you both paused in your dance. "you would tell me to take my chance if she came back to me. so, i'm doing the same for you. you deserve to be happy. it's okay"

your shoulders dropped slightly, pained and fighting your raging emotions. "but i-"

"sh, go to him" he held your cheeks in his hands for a moment, gently caressing your face, admiring your beauty. "but if he breaks your heart again, i don't care who he is i will kick his ass"

you laughed softly, humourless. you couldn't help the way your heart filled with such great sadness for the boy you had come to spend so much time with. but your grayson was waiting, the same way you had been these past years. you had a chance and you'd be damned if you didn't take it.

you had cursed the hawthorne boy for years. you had harboured hate for the whole family after what they had said to you. you loved gray, yes but it wasn't going to heal those wounds over night. breaking off your relationship for him was something your parents advised against, very strongly when you had told them what you were doing. your mother had tried to dissuade you, remind you off their cruel words, the way they had treated you.

"i can't just give up. i have to try, i love him" you had pleaded. they had shaken their heads but they understood what this meant to you. they had hated seeing their little girl so hurt but they couldn't deny the happiness that had come before that. the way life shone in you when you had been with grayson was something they had never seen since.

it was worth the chance if you believed it was.

you met with grayson a week later. both of you were nervous, unsure of what to say to one another. you had barely ever seen this side of gray, the one who worried and fretted, the one who cared so openly.

while he had shared smiles and murmured words of love to you he had never really showed you himself. he had never been brave enough to truly let you in. and now he was.

he stood before you now, normally steady hands holding out flowers to you with a slight tremor to them. he had shown up at your door, sudden but expected, with the hopes of rekindling your relationship.

"gray" you breathed out, eyes widening when you opened your door to his figure. he wore a suit, as usual, but no matter how many times you saw him, he never failed to make your heart flutter. "hi"

you offered him a small smile, neither of you knowing how to proceed.

he stared at you for a moment longer before he blinked slowly, coming back to reality.

"hello, these are for you" he spoke softly, he had never used the hawthorne tone with you. even if he did, you would never have needed him to. he only needed to ask and you would have done anything he wanted.

"thank you, they're beautiful" you ignored the heat in your cheeks as you took the bouquet from him, fingers brushing his. you disappeared inside for a moment, putting them away in a vase and grabbing your bag before returning to the door.

"shall we?" you asked, trying to appear more confident than you felt.

if he noticed your nervousness he didn't mention it, merely holding an arm out to you, leading you to the car. he was tense, you noted. he knew it would take more than flowers to win you over again. and he was desperate to win you over.

"where are we going?" you asked, once you were both seated in the car, buckling your seatbelt up before properly turning to him. he was already looking at you, gaze soft.

"where would you like to go?"

with anyone else you would have frowned. you would have taken that as a cop out, a hint that he didn't know you and that he hadn't put the proper effort in to make the date special.

but this was grayson. grayson who bled power and control. he had a plan for everything and he had always had backups. he was giving that control to you.

you smiled softly, a memory coming to mind immediately as you glanced out the window to take in the weather.

a storm was coming despite the heat.

"what about the beach?"

the scene between you two was exactly like that of when you had visited last. it was the same beach you remembered, practically empty as a summer storm threatened the peace. the wind whistled in the quiet, as you walked side by side.

neither of you spoke for moment before you found yourselves in a familiar alcove. you smiled at the memory, warmth filling you despite the cold sea breeze.

"do you remember?" you turned to the tall boy beside you. he, once again, already had his eyes on you, watching you walk. you could practically see the two of you in his eyes, the same colour of the sea as you had unknowingly posed for his camera back then.

"how could i forget?" he whispered quietly, his hand reaching out for your face, pausing before he could actually touch you.

you didn't speak, breath catching in your throat as you stared into his eyes. you felt like you were back there again. back when everything had been fine, when there was nothing holding you back.

"i'm sorry" his expression twisted, lips forming a frown as he glanced away. his hand dropped away from you. he didn't deserve to hold you, to love you. "i hurt you and i-"

"stop" you shook your head, taking his hand in yours, gently squeezing it. the sensation was as familiar as it was foreign. "you are not your family, gray. i'm here for you not them. yes, you hurt me when you didn't say anything but i know how much pressure you're under"

"that's not an excuse-" he begun again, hand clinging to yours.

"i'm not saying it is" you grinned a cheeky smile, trying to lighten the mood. "you have a lot of making up to do"

he just blinked at you, mind running rampant with ways he could possibly do that. your grin only widened as you spoke your next words.

"you can start with giving me a kiss" you reached your free hand up to tap your lips, puckering them playfully and awaiting his move.

he didn't stay frozen for much longer, how could he ever refuse you? he let his own smile grow as he leaned down to capture your lips in a sweet kiss.

he pulled back first, but he couldn't move far, your arms coming up to wrap around his neck, holding him close. his hands automatically moved to your waist.

"i have a few more requests to make before i can forgive you" you announced into the centimetres between you. "but i think i need a few more kisses first"

he released a small laugh, eyes shining as he watched your lips move. "is that so?" he hummed, dipping down again to press his mouth to yours. he paused before he could, murmuring lowly. "and how long do i have to complete these requests, darling?"

"forever, gray"

-

the hawthorne empire's heir, grayson hawthorne, is rumoured to be dating. find out more here.

"well, shit"