#i love lobby 5 it's so pretty

[hooved]

playing PSO again

[dollgxtz]

His Watchful Eye Pt.9

Word Count: 22.4k

Tags: yandere!sylus, sylus x fem!reader, possession, forced pregnancy, unwanted pregnancy, tw if u have tokophobia, mentions of rape, murder, extortion, threats, manipulation, pet names like, kitten, sweetie, honey, Xavier appears, tw vomiting, flashbacks of blood and gore, nausea, kidnapping

Taglist: @ngh-ch-choso-ahhhh, @eliasxchocolate, @nozomiaj, @xmiisuki, @sylus-kitten, @its-regretti , @m0onlustre , @ve1vet-cake, @letgobro, @starkeysslvt, @yarafic, @prince-nikko, @leiaglmela @connorsui, @iluvmewwwww75, @biggest-geo-oogami-enjoyer, @mysssticc, @babygirl-panda19, @someone-somewheres-stuff, @zaynesjasmine1, @honnylemontea, @altariasu, @the-slytherin-poet, @sorryimakira, @pearlymel, @emidpsandia , @angel-jupiter, @hwangintakswifey, @webmvie, @housesortinghat, @fading-twinkle, @shoruio, @gojos1ut, @solomonlover, @cheesenjam, @elegantnightblaze, @mavphorias, @babylavendersblog, @burntoutfrogacademic, @sinstae, @certainduckanchor, @ladyackermanisdead, @sh4nn, @milkandstarlight, @lilyadora, @depressedwhore,

AN: Hi all! This is of course on A03! I love this story so much! Each chapter is so fun to write!! The tension, the devastation. Its SO delicious!! So sorry for the late upload, I had a BUNCH of exams last week and a wedding to attend on the weekend so I couldn't just down and write. If I have u tagged here and u want to be removed from future tag lists just shoot me a dm! Enjoy my lovelies ! ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡

“Eat,” he said firmly, the command in his voice clear and sharp. “I won’t repeat myself.” You froze, your breath catching in your throat. “If you kill our baby,” Sylus continued, his voice low and deliberate, “I kill him. Pretty fair, wouldn't you agree?”

Read Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4 Pt.5 Pt.6 Pt.7 Pt.8 Pt.10

The towering glass building of the Hunter's Association stood like a beacon in the heart of the city, its sleek, modern architecture gleaming under the afternoon sun. The mirrored panels reflected the sprawling cityscape, a place Xavier once found familiar, even comforting. But now, as he trudged through the automatic doors, the cool blast of air conditioning hitting his face, it all felt foreign. His world had changed. The familiar sound of boots tapping on the pristine marble floors, the usual buzz of hunters and staff moving through the building, and the distant ring of telephones seemed like nothing more than a haze of noise.

His reflection caught in the glass of the lobby—he barely recognized the man staring back at him. His once well-kept appearance was gone, replaced by a man disheveled and weary. His clothes, wrinkled and stained from days on the road, clung awkwardly to his body, the fabric of his jacket creased and dusty. His hair, normally brushed neatly, now hung in messy, unkempt strands over his forehead, and the dark circles under his eyes spoke of sleepless nights and relentless mental strain.

He moved like a ghost through the lobby, ignoring the passing glances from the other hunters and staff who clearly noticed his haggard appearance. They didn’t stop him, though. They knew who he was—Xavier, one of the best hunters in the Hunters Association. An integral part of UNICORNS. He had earned his place here, had earned his own office on the upper floors. But despite his reputation, today he felt like a shell of the man he used to be.

His boots made a heavy thud with each step as he headed directly for the elevator. The metallic doors slid open with a soft chime, and he stepped inside, feeling the weight of everything pressing down on him as the doors shut, sealing him away from the noise of the lobby. The elevator began its slow ascent, the soft hum of the machinery doing little to quiet his thoughts. His hand slipped into his jacket pocket, his fingers curling around the small, inconspicuous sim card. It was a simple object, barely noticeable to anyone else, but to him, it felt like it weighed a thousand pounds.

This is it, he thought. This is what might finally give me the answers I need. The answers I’m terrified to find.

The memory of the last few weeks gnawed at him. Even having escaped the N109 Zone the memories had been a blur of desperation, exhaustion, and haunting questions. Where are you? What happened to you? And why had Skye tried to kill him? The silence, the emptiness he felt without you, was unbearable. But what gnawed at him more than anything was the creeping dread in the back of his mind—the fear that he was already too late.

The elevator dinged softly as it reached his floor, snapping him from his thoughts. The doors slid open, revealing the long, pristine hallway of the upper offices. Xavier wasted no time, his legs moving mechanically as he headed straight for his office. The lights overhead flickered ever so slightly, casting long, sharp shadows across the floor as he walked, his pace quickening with every step.

But before he could reach the safety of his office, a familiar voice cut through the air.

“Xavier?”

He froze mid-step, his body tensing involuntarily. He didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. He could already picture her—bright-eyed, curious, and always full of questions.

Sure enough, when he turned, there she was—Tara. Her short brown hair, usually neatly styled, bounced slightly as she hurried toward him, her eyes wide with a mixture of relief and concern. She was one of the few coworkers who always made a point of checking in on him, though at times, her bubbly personality felt overwhelming. Today was no exception.

“Xavier!” she called again, picking up her pace. “Oh my God, where have you been? We haven’t seen you in forever! You just disappeared, and everyone’s been asking about you, wondering if you were okay. I thought you might have left like—”

He raised a hand, cutting her off before she could finish. His voice was strained, and though he tried to keep it steady, there was an unmistakable edge of exhaustion in it. “Tara, I’m sorry. I really am. But I need to get to my office. I can’t explain anything right now.”

Tara’s face fell slightly, her eyes scanning his face, her brow furrowing as she took in his disheveled appearance. It was clear she wanted to press further, but something in his tone, or maybe the haunted look in his eyes, stopped her. She shifted awkwardly on her feet, biting her lower lip as she crossed her arms over her chest.

“Are you okay?” she asked, her voice softer now, filled with genuine concern. “I mean…you don’t look so good.”

Xavier forced a small, tight-lipped smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “I’ll be fine. Just…I just need some time.”

Before she could say anything more, he nodded to her and brushed past, his heart racing as he made his way down the hall. He could feel her eyes on him as he walked away, but he didn’t stop. He couldn’t. Not now. Not when he was this close.

Finally, he reached the door to his office, his sanctuary. His hand trembled slightly as he pushed the door open and stepped inside. The familiar scent of ink and printed paper greeted him, a scent that used to bring comfort but now felt cold, distant. The door clicked shut behind him, sealing him off from the world outside.

For a moment, he just stood there, leaning back against the door, his chest rising and falling with each shaky breath. The weight of the last few weeks, of everything he’d been through, came crashing down on him all at once. He ran a hand through his hair, gripping the back of his neck as he tried to steady himself. Focus, Xavier. Focus.

His eyes scanned the room—his desk, cluttered with papers and old case files, the soft leather chair in the corner, and the wide windows that let in far too much light. He needed darkness, quiet, space to think. Without hesitation, he moved toward the windows and drew the blinds shut, plunging the room into a muted, shadowy haze. The soft hum of the city outside was muffled now, replaced by the stillness of the office. He flicked off the overhead lights, leaving only the dim glow of his computer screen.

It was just him and the SIM card now.

He dropped into the chair behind his desk, his body sinking into the worn leather as he pulled the small chip from his pocket. It sat there on the desk in front of him, almost mocking him with its simplicity. How could something so small hold the answers to everything? How could it carry the weight of his hope and fear all at once?

His fingers trembled slightly as he picked it up, turning it over in his hand, his thumb brushing against the smooth surface. This is it, he reminded himself. This is how I find out what happened to her.

Xavier inserted the sim card into the slot on his computer, the holographic screen flickering to life above his head as the files began to load. His heart pounded in his chest, each second feeling like an eternity as he waited for the data to appear.

The room seemed to shrink around him, the air growing heavy as his eyes locked onto the screen. His breath hitched, his fingers tightening around the edge of the desk.

Please. Please let this tell me something. Let it lead me to her.

The files loaded slowly, the progress bar inching forward at an agonizingly slow pace. Each second felt like an eternity, the air in the room growing heavier as Xavier leaned closer to the screen, his heart pounding in his chest. His fingers drummed impatiently against the edge of the desk, a nervous rhythm that barely kept his panic at bay. This has to work. This has to show me something—anything.

But when the files finally opened, the first thing he noticed was the dull red warning message flashing on the screen: FILE CORRUPTED.

Xavier froze.

He blinked, staring at the message as though it might change if he looked at it long enough. Then, with a shaky breath, he clicked on the first file, hoping against hope that the system had made a mistake. But the message was clear: Corrupted. Unreadable.

His stomach twisted as a wave of cold dread washed over him. No… No, this can’t be right. Not now. Not after everything.

He clicked on another file. Corrupted.

Then another. Corrupted.

And another. Corrupted.

His fingers moved faster, more frantically now, clicking through the list, trying to find anything that wasn’t destroyed. But the same message greeted him every time. The red text burned into his eyes, taunting him with every click. He felt like the ground was being pulled out from under him, the desperation clawing at his chest, making it harder to breathe.

How? His mind raced, scrambling for an explanation. How could this have happened?

His thoughts spiraled. Was the sim card programmed to destroy its contents once removed? The possibility made his blood run cold. He had been so careful, so sure that this card would give him the answers he needed. And now it was slipping through his fingers.

Xavier's hand clenched into a fist, his knuckles white as he pounded the desk in frustration. "No..." His voice was a harsh whisper, barely able to contain the anger bubbling up inside him. His vision blurred for a moment, the weight of everything crashing down on him in a wave of helplessness.

This can’t be happening. Not now. Not when I’m so close.

He could feel his pulse racing, his heart pounding in his chest, faster and faster as the panic settled deeper into his bones. His mouth was dry, and his breath came in shallow, uneven bursts as he tried to hold himself together. The room felt smaller, darker, like the walls were closing in around him. The light from the computer screen flickered against his face, casting shadows under his eyes, deepening the lines of exhaustion and frustration etched into his skin.

I can’t lose this. I can’t lose her.

The thoughts came unbidden, swirling in his mind like a storm. He had been so sure this card would lead him to you—that it would show him where you were, what had happened. He had imagined this moment so many times, but now, all that hope was unraveling, torn apart by a series of corrupted files. And it felt like his last chance was slipping away right in front of him.

No. No, I won’t let this happen.

His fingers flew across the keyboard, clicking open every file he could find, his breath catching in his throat each time the same corrupted message popped up. With each failed attempt, the panic inside him grew, his heart hammering wildly as frustration gave way to desperation.

His mind raced, grasping for a solution. There had to be something he could do—something to fix this. He wasn’t about to give up, not now, not when you were still out there, waiting for him to find you. His eyes darted to the screen, scanning for anything that could help, his mind reeling, searching for an answer through the haze of fear clouding his thoughts.

And then, a flicker of hope.

He remembered the program. A faint memory, tucked away in the back of his mind—a file recovery tool buried somewhere deep within his system. It wasn’t something he used often, but it was there. His heart skipped a beat, the sliver of hope cutting through the rising panic. Yes. That’s it.

Without hesitating, he pulled up the program, his fingers trembling slightly as he typed in the command to search for the corrupted files. The familiar blue loading screen appeared, and for a moment, Xavier felt the breath he had been holding slowly release. But it wasn’t over yet. He still had to wait. The program would take time to scan the files, to see if it could recover anything usable.

Seconds stretched into minutes, and each tick of the clock felt like another weight pressing down on his chest. He sat back in his chair, staring at the spinning loading icon on the screen, willing it to move faster, to show him something—anything that could give him the answers he so desperately needed.

His leg bounced under the desk, a nervous habit he hadn’t been able to shake for days now. The anxiety clawed at him, making it impossible to sit still. His mind was racing again, fear and hope warring inside him, a toxic mix that made his stomach churn.

What if this didn’t work? What if the files were too damaged to recover? What if—what if he never found out what happened to you?

Stop it. Don’t think like that. He gritted his teeth, trying to shove the doubts out of his mind. He couldn’t afford to lose hope now. He had come too far, and he couldn’t let himself break. Not yet.

The program beeped softly, breaking the silence of the room. Xavier leaned forward, his heart thudding against his ribs as the first of the recovered files appeared on the screen. His fingers hovered over the keyboard for a moment, his pulse racing in anticipation.

Please...let this work.

He clicked on the file, holding his breath as it opened, the screen flickering before finally stabilizing. His eyes scanned the first few lines of data, and for the first time in hours, a glimmer of hope sparked in his chest.

There it was. Not everything—far from it—but there was something. Something he could use.

His breath hitched as he leaned in closer, his eyes locking onto the details flashing across the screen. The tension in his body didn’t ease, but the panic that had threatened to overtake him was starting to ebb, replaced by a grim determination.

The first recovered file blinked to life on Xavier’s screen, and for a moment, his heart slowed its frantic pace. This is it, he thought, leaning forward, eyes fixed on the video as the grainy footage loaded. The room was cloaked in shadow, his breath the only sound breaking the silence. His hands hovered over the keyboard, fingers still trembling slightly, half out of exhaustion and half from anticipation.

But as the video began to play, the tension in his body didn’t ease—it only deepened.

The screen flickered with the image of a familiar dimly lit, grimy basement. The walls were old, stained with mold and years of neglect. The camera was positioned at an angle, casting shadows that made the space look even more claustrophobic. But that wasn’t what made Xavier’s stomach twist. It wasn’t you in the video. His breath caught in his throat as the scene unfolded, confusion clouding his mind.

A girl—blonde, young, and panicked—was being dragged into the room by a shoddy-looking man. Her limbs flailed wildly, her voice sharp with terror and rage.

"Fuck you, Reese! Let go!" she screamed, her voice raw, the words tearing through the oppressive silence of the basement.

Xavier’s eyes narrowed, his pulse quickening as he watched the man—Reese, apparently—roughly shove her onto a dingy, stained bed in the corner. The blonde girl gasped as she hit the mattress, her breaths coming in panicked bursts, her chest heaving. Her face contorted in fury and fear as she glared at the man who stood a few feet away, shaking like a leaf, as though he was caught between shame and desperation.

Reese, the man responsible for dragging this girl down here, opened his mouth but struggled to speak. “I’m… I’m sorry,” he muttered, voice cracking with guilt and fear. His hands trembled as he backed away from the bed, eyes wide, like he didn’t know how he had ended up in this situation either.

Xavier’s mind raced, his thoughts scrambling to make sense of what he was seeing. He had heard the name Reese before. It had come up when he questioned the shoe clerks in the N109 Zone. He knew that you had been with Reese at some point—that much was clear. But this...this wasn’t you.

Who the hell was this girl? Why was she in the same basement?

Xavier clicked on the fast-forward button, his hand shaky as he tried to piece together what he was watching. The blonde girl, still hyperventilating, curled into herself on the bed, her hands gripping the fabric of her clothes as if she could disappear into the mattress. The fear on her face was palpable, and Xavier felt a sickening knot form in his stomach as he imagined what was going through her mind in those moments.

What's happening? His mind spun with questions, but there were no answers—not yet. He fast-forwarded again, his anxiety growing with each passing second. Days seemed to pass, the lighting in the basement changing subtly as time wore on. The girl’s resistance dulled, her movements slower, her body slumping as though she had lost the will to fight back.

And then they came back.

Xavier's breath hitched as Reese appeared once more, but this time he wasn’t alone. His heart dropped as he recognized the second figure—her. The cold, sharp-eyed woman with dark hair tied into a strict bun, dressed in business casual attire. Xavier had seen her before. He remembered her face clearly, down in that same basement when he had been searching for you, when she had tricked him and escaped before answering more of his questions. She was a predator in a sleek package, her eyes devoid of warmth or sympathy.

A traitor to her own gender.

The blonde girl jolted when she saw them, her fear reigniting, her voice cracking as she screamed. “No! Please! Leave me alone!” She scrambled to the head of the bed, pressing herself into the wall as if she could sink through it and escape.

The dark-haired woman didn’t flinch. Her voice was smooth, cold, clinical. “We’ll see if she’s a match, Reese. If she’s not…” She trailed off, inspecting her nails as though the girl’s fate was of no consequence to her. “…you can give her to Damien for...y’know.”

Xavier’s blood ran cold at her words. Damien? The name made his stomach churn with anger and disgust. His grip tightened on the edge of the desk, his knuckles white as he leaned in closer to the screen, his mind now spinning with dread. This was more than just a kidnapping—more than just a rescue mission. There was something deeper, something more sinister lurking beneath the surface of all this.

Reese mumbled something under his breath, barely audible over the girl’s terrified sobs. His hands shook as he backed away from the bed again, leaving the girl in the cold, uncaring grip of the woman with the dark hair. She stepped forward, cold and methodical, holding out a syringe as though it was just another day at the office.

The blonde girl screamed as they took a blood sample, the needle piercing her skin. Her eyes were wide, wild, filled with the horror of not understanding what was happening to her but knowing that it was something dark, something she couldn’t escape. Xavier’s jaw clenched, his teeth grinding as he watched the scene unfold. The helplessness in the girl’s eyes echoed the same helplessness he felt now—watching, unable to intervene, unable to stop what was happening.

The video blurred again as Xavier fast-forwarded, skipping through more days, more moments of isolation and fear. The blonde girl’s spirit, once fiery and defiant, began to erode. By the time the dark-haired woman returned with Reese days later, her demeanor had changed entirely. She wasn’t fighting anymore. Instead, she lay curled on the bed, tears streaming down her face, silent sobs shaking her body.

The cold woman sighed, almost bored. “You’re useless to me. But hey, you’re a woman,” she said, her voice dripping with casual cruelty. “Maybe you can seduce Damien for your freedom.” The words hung in the air like poison, and the blonde girl let out a wretched scream, her body convulsing with panic as Reese grabbed her again, dragging her off the bed and toward the stairs.

Xavier’s heart pounded in his chest, his breath coming in short, angry bursts. What the hell is this? His mind was racing, the implications of what he was seeing burning through him like wildfire. This wasn’t just about you. This wasn’t just a random guy that you had gone with. This was part of something bigger, something darker than he had ever imagined.

And yet, even as the video ended—cutting off abruptly as Reese pulled the screaming girl up the stairs—one thought dominated his mind.

Where were you?

His hands shook as he closed the corrupted file, his jaw clenched so tightly it hurt. His mind spun with questions, but no answers came. Who was this girl? Was she still alive? Had Reese given her to Damien like they suggested? A dark chill crawled up Xavier’s spine. His thoughts twisted and darkened as he remembered the basement when he had first been there—when he had been searching for you.

Reese had been dead when I searched that basement.

A sudden, horrifying thought pierced through him like a dagger.

Did Reese let this 'Damien' hurt you?

His breath caught in his throat, and for a moment, everything went still. The room, the air, the soft hum of the computer—it all faded into the background. A single thought rang in his mind, louder than anything else. Was Damien involved with what happened to you?

Xavier swallowed hard, his fingers hovering over the keyboard as the tension mounted inside him. His eyes darted back to the screen, scanning the list of recovered files with a sense of rising urgency. He had to find your video. He had to know what happened to you. His breath came quicker, more shallow as he clicked on the next file, praying that this time—this time—it would show him the truth.

Xavier’s hands moved frantically across the keyboard, clicking through file after file. Each video that played on the screen sent another wave of nausea crashing through him. Each one showed a different girl—each of them dragged into that same dingy basement by Reese. Their screams echoed in his ears, the fear in their eyes burning into his memory, but none of them were you.

His stomach churned violently as the helplessness clawed at his insides. He could barely keep his breathing steady, each breath shallow and strained. The flickering images on the screen felt like a nightmare he couldn’t wake from. He was so close, yet so far. With every corrupted file, every unfamiliar face, the weight of dread settled deeper into his bones. Where are you? His mind screamed, hands gripping the edges of his desk until his knuckles turned white.

He clicked on another file. Another girl. Not you.

His jaw clenched as he forced himself to click through the next video. Still not you.

Sweat beaded on his forehead, his heart thudding in his chest like a war drum, each beat harder than the last. The urge to smash everything on his desk was almost unbearable, but he kept moving, his desperation growing with every passing second. Each wrong file felt like a stab to his gut. The girls all looked terrified—some bruised, some screaming, others had already given up—but it wasn’t you. His vision blurred for a moment, frustration and fear clouding his thoughts.

Then, he clicked the last file.

For a split second, he hesitated. His heart was in his throat, the weight of all his hopes and fears balancing on this one moment. Please. Please be her. The screen flickered, and then—your features came into view.

Xavier exhaled a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

It’s you.

The relief was so intense it nearly knocked the wind out of him. He felt his entire body sag forward, his muscles trembling as he sat frozen in his chair, staring at the screen. He hadn’t seen you in what felt like forever, but there you were, in the same filthy basement he’d seen in the other videos. But something was wrong. So very, very wrong.

You looked… worse for wear. Even through the grainy footage, it was clear you hadn’t been eating well—your face was more gaunt than he remembered, your cheeks hollow, and your body seemed frail, weaker than it ever should have been. Your hair, once well-kept, now hung in matted strands, clinging to your face as though it hadn’t been washed in days. Your eyes wide with shock. His heart broke at the sight, a heaviness settling into his chest that made it hard to breathe.

He could barely hold it together as he watched you struggle. There you were, the person he’d been so desperate to find, trapped in that godforsaken basement. His eyes stung, his jaw clenched so tightly it ached. He wanted to be there, to protect you, but he was stuck watching, helpless on the other side of a screen.

The camera trembled slightly as two figures came into view—Reese, and another man Xavier didn’t recognize. The stranger was larger, more menacing, and as they manhandled you, dragging you toward the wall, Xavier felt the white-hot surge of anger flare through him.

He watched as the man pushed you roughly against the cold stone wall, your body slumping on impact. You struggled, arms flailing as you tried to fight back, your voice strained and frantic. The unfamiliar man approached you, his face twisted with a sickening grin, and before Xavier could even process it, the man’s hands were all over you, feeling you up.

“Get off her!” Xavier hissed under his breath, his fingers tightening so hard around the arms of his chair that he thought the metal might snap. His body tensed, every muscle coiled with the instinct to protect you, to tear the man away from you. But he was powerless—stuck watching, his heart pounding in his ears, every second feeling like a lifetime.

Your voice cut through the chaos. “I'm bleeding! I’m on my period!” you screamed, desperation thick in your voice.

Xavier froze, eyes wide as the stranger’s hands recoiled. The man grimaced, backing off like a coward, muttering something inaudible as he stepped away from you. Xavier felt a surge of relief—so intense that he almost thought it was over. But then his stomach turned, realizing just how close you had come to something worse.

The relief didn’t last long. He watched, his breath shallow, as he dragged you over to a dingy showerhead in the corner of the room. The rusted metal clung to the grimy tile, the smell of mildew practically radiating through the screen. You were shoved under the cold spray, and when the icy water hit your body, you didn’t scream. You didn’t cry out. You trembled, your whole frame shaking violently as the freezing water soaked through your clothes, your hair plastering to your skull.

Xavier’s chest tightened painfully. You were silent, but your body was wracked with shivers, your shoulders shaking as the water poured down over you. Why aren’t you fighting? he thought, his heart breaking with every second that passed. Why aren’t you screaming?

He could see it, the exhaustion that had settled into you, the hopelessness. The strength you usually had was slipping away, replaced by the toll of captivity and cruelty. His fists clenched, the rage boiling under his skin as he watched the stranger turn off the water and leave you there—helpless, wet, and shivering on the cold basement floor.

Xavier’s breath hitched, his throat closing up as he watched you desperately try to catch your breath, your body trembling uncontrollably. Then, slowly, your eyes fluttered shut, your head lolling forward as your body went limp. You collapsed—passed out from sheer exhaustion, from the cold, from everything they had done to you.

A single tear slid down Xavier’s cheek, though he didn’t realize it was there at first. The wet warmth caught him by surprise, and he wiped it away quickly, frustration twisting inside him like a knife. He couldn’t stop watching—he couldn’t turn away. Even though every second felt like it was cutting deeper into him, he couldn’t tear his eyes from the screen. He needed to know what had happened. He needed to know everything.

The screen flickered slightly as the footage continued. Reese appeared again, but this time he was alone. His hands were full—clothes and pads, probably for you. Xavier’s teeth ground together, a sickening feeling settling in the pit of his stomach as he watched Reese step cautiously toward the bed. Your body still lay there, unconscious, cold, vulnerable.

Reese didn’t move for a long moment, just standing there, staring at your unmoving form. He seemed torn—his face twisted with guilt, fear, maybe even shame. His eyes flickered to your face, and Xavier’s pulse quickened. The tension in his body coiled tighter, a knot of rage and anxiety constricting his chest.

Then, slowly, Reese stepped closer to you. His hand extended, trembling as he reached toward your face, his fingers hovering just above your cheek. No. Don’t touch her. Xavier’s mind screamed the words, his hands gripping the sides of his chair so hard that his nails dug into the leather, leaving deep grooves. He could feel the blood rushing in his ears, his muscles straining as though he might actually break through the screen and stop him.

But then Reese hesitated. His hand hovered for a moment longer before he pulled back, taking a deep, shaky breath. Xavier’s heart pounded in his chest, his relief palpable—but it did nothing to calm the storm of emotions raging inside him.

Reese placed the clothes on the bed across from you, his eyes still fixed on your face, but he didn’t touch you. He stepped away, leaving you there, still unconscious, still shivering slightly. Xavier’s breath came out in a ragged sigh, his body trembling with the overwhelming flood of emotions that he could barely keep in check.

But this wasn’t over. He knew it wasn’t over.

Xavier leaned forward, wiping another tear from his cheek as he narrowed his eyes at the screen. He had to keep going. He had to see what happened next. He had to know. He had to find out everything.

Xavier watched as the video played on, his entire body locked in place, unable to tear his eyes away from the screen. He could barely breathe as the image flickered and your figure stirred, your body shifting slowly on the cold, hard ground. The way you moved, every inch of your body screaming exhaustion, made his heart sink. You looked like a shell of yourself, like every ounce of strength had been drained from you, leaving only a frail, weakened version of the person he once knew.

He watched as you struggled to sit up, your soaked nightgown clinging to your body like a lead weight, dragging you down. Your hands trembled as you pushed yourself up, your hair soaked, wet strands sticking to your face, your breaths shallow and labored. His fingers tightened on the edges of the desk, his heart aching at the sight of you. Every movement looked painful—every breath an effort.

Come on… please… just get up, he thought, willing you to find the strength to keep moving, to fight back against the hell you were trapped in.

Slowly, you managed to rise to your feet, your knees wobbling slightly as you reached for the clothes Reese had left behind. You dressed in silence, your movements sluggish, like you were on the verge of collapse. The sight of you changing, of slipping into the dry clothes, should have brought Xavier some relief, but it didn’t. If anything, it made his stomach churn with dread. He could see it in your face—the numbness, the exhaustion, the sheer hopelessness that seemed to radiate from your every gesture.

You don’t deserve this. None of this, Xavier thought, his throat tightening as a lump of guilt settled deep in his chest.

Then, something shifted. You glanced up toward the stairs, your expression tense, wary, like you were planning something. For a moment, a flicker of hope sparked in Xavier’s chest as he watched you move toward the steps, your eyes focused on the large hatch at the top. Were you trying to escape? He leaned forward in his seat, his breath held as you reached the hatch leaning against it, your breath ragged

Come on. You can do this. Try and open it baby.

But then, you froze. Your head jerked up, eyes wide, and without warning, you bolted back down the stairs, your feet nearly slipping on the slick floor as you dove under the bed, hiding like a frightened animal. Xavier’s heart stuttered, his breath catching in his throat.

What’s wrong? Why are you hiding?

His pulse pounded in his ears as the camera trembled slightly, picking up the unmistakable sound of footsteps approaching the basement. Heavy, deliberate footsteps—multiple sets, moving in sync. His heart sank deeper into his stomach, his gut twisting with dread as three figures came into view: Reese, the cold-eyed woman with dark hair—the same woman who had haunted his thoughts since that first encounter—and another man, unfamiliar, likely one of their henchmen.

The air felt suffocating as the henchman crouched down beside the bed, his meaty hand reaching under and grabbing you roughly by the arm. Xavier’s stomach lurched as he watched you struggle, but it was no use. The man yanked you out from under the bed, your body hitting the floor with a dull thud as he dragged you to your feet.

“No, no, no…” Xavier whispered under his breath, his chest tightening as he watched helplessly from behind the screen. His hands gripped the armrests of his chair, his knuckles white with tension. His skin crawled with anxiety, his mind screaming for you to fight, to resist, to do anything to stop this from happening.

The woman stepped forward, her face a mask of cold indifference as she looked down at you, her eyes sharp and calculating. Dialogue is exchanged that he cant quite hear but he manages to make out a few sentences.

“We don’t know for sure if you’re a match yet,” the woman said, almost thoughtfully. “But you're a woman, so that's already one criteria met. And it’s just a matter of time before we find out the second.”

Xavier’s jaw clenched. A match? For what? What kind of sick, twisted operation was this? His mind raced, trying to piece together the fragments of the nightmare unfolding in front of him. She had mentioned you were a match back in the basement. Was this what she was referring to? He felt the bile rise in his throat as the woman produced a syringe from her coat pocket, her movements mechanical, practiced. She didn’t care about you. You were nothing but a commodity to her—just another body, another possible match.

He leaned closer to the screen, his breath coming faster, harder. “No! Don’t give in!” he screamed in his mind, wishing with every fiber of his being that you could hear him. Fight! Stab her with it!

But you didn’t.

You just…obeyed.

Your arm trembled as you extended it toward the woman, too weak, too exhausted to fight back. Your eyes were dull, drained of the fire he knew you once had. Xavier felt like his heart was being ripped from his chest as he watched you give in, letting them take the blood sample without resistance. He wanted to scream, to throw something, to punch through the screen. This isn’t you. You were always so strong. So fierce. What did they do to you?

But he knew the truth. He could see it in your body language, in the slump of your shoulders. You had been beaten down, worn away by days of captivity. And there was nothing he could do to stop it. Not from here. His helplessness gnawed at him, threatening to overwhelm him.

After taking the sample, the woman glanced at the henchman and hands it to him. He leaves and the woman stayed behind, her eyes never leaving you. “Now we wait,” she said, crossing her arms. “If you’re lucky, you won’t be a match. But if you are… well, we’ll be in touch.”

She exchanges a few words with Reese before making her way up the stairs, heels clacking as she walks back up.

But Reese didn’t follow. He lingered behind, his eyes avoiding yours. And then you snapped. You start yelling about how you had trusted him.

"I trusted you!" you shouted, your voice growing louder, the raw emotion burning through your exhaustion. "I told you everything—I told you about my escape, I thought you were trying to help me!"

Your words were heavy with betrayal, each syllable cutting through the silence like a knife. Xavier’s heart twisted painfully in his chest. He remembered your voice on the phone—the trust in your words when you mentioned Reese. You had believed in him. You had gone with him because you thought he would protect you.

I should have told you not to go. I should have warned you. Guilt flooded through Xavier, choking him. I thought you’d be okay. I thought I’d find you in time.

Reese flinched under your words, his hands shaking at his sides. He couldn’t even meet your eyes as you continued to hurl your accusations at him. He looked every bit the coward, standing there, unable to face the truth of what he’d done to you. He babbles some excuses about how he had to do what he did. But you weren't having it. How he thought you would be dumped like the others. How he didn't know about the organ trafficking.

Xavier scoffed. A coward and a liar this guy was.

“I’m sorry,” he says, seemingly all he can mutter after all that.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he turned and walked out, leaving you alone in the cold, empty room.

Xavier’s chest heaved with labored breaths as he watched you slide down the wall, your body shaking with silent sobs. His heart ached, the guilt and anger mixing into a storm of emotions that he couldn’t contain. He wanted to reach through the screen, to hold you, to tell you he was coming.

I’m so sorry. I’ll make this right. I swear.

The video continued, the next few days slipping by in a blur of monotony. Reese came and went, bringing you food, but he said nothing. He was silent, avoiding your gaze, avoiding confrontation. And you—you barely moved. You spent most of your time sleeping, your body too exhausted, too worn down to fight anymore. Xavier’s stomach churned as he realized how deeply this place had broken you.

But then… something changed.

His eyes widened as a familiar figure appeared on the screen. The same man who had groped you when you had first arrived in the basement, his expression dark, predatory. Xavier’s blood ran cold as the man descended the stairs, his eyes fixed on your sleeping form.

No…no…not again.

You stirred, your body tensing the moment you saw him. The tension in the air was palpable. Xavier could feel it in his bones, the dread creeping up his spine as the man stalked toward you. His lips moved, saying something to you, but the audio was too muffled to make out the words. Whatever he said, it made your body stiffen with fear as he grabbed your arm.

Then, without warning, the man lunged forward, grabbing you tighter and slamming you into the mattress.

Xavier’s vision blurred with red. His heart pounded in his ears as rage surged through him like a wildfire. He gripped the edge of the desk so hard his knuckles turned white, his teeth grinding together as he watched you fight like hell. You kicked, you scratched, you screamed—but it wasn’t enough. The man was too strong. He pinned you down, his hands tearing at your clothes, ripping your sweatpants off with vicious intent.

“No...” Xavier hissed, slamming his fist into the desk. He couldn’t watch this. He couldn’t watch you be violated like this. His eyes squeezed shut, but he couldn’t stop himself from listening, every sound making his blood boil, the anger roaring in his mind like an unstoppable storm.

He could hear the man struggling—his heavy breathing, the sound of fabric tearing, your muffled cries. Every second felt like an eternity. Xavier’s entire body trembled with fury, his mind screaming at him to do something, but he was powerless.

And then he heard it.

Your voice, soft, almost a whisper. He couldn’t make out what you said, but the words were enough to anger the man on top of you He seems like he's about to hit you, and then—

"Is that anyway to talk to a lady?"

The man was frozen, is facing twisting in shock before he was suddenly flung off of you, his body slamming into the wall with a sickening crunch. His screams filled the air, a sound so satisfying that it almost drowned out the confusion that followed.

Xavier’s eyes snapped open, his breath catching in his throat. What the hell just happened?

And then he saw him.

A tall man, dressed in dark clothes, his face somewhat shadowed by the dim lighting of the basement. His presence was commanding, intimidating—and immediately recognizable. The white grayish hair, terrifying demeanor, crimson blood colored eye.

Skye.

Xavier’s heart lurched. What the hell was he doing there?

Xavier’s breath caught in his throat as the figure of Skye moved toward you, his tall, dark silhouette looming in the dim light of the basement. His walk was calm, casual, as though he hadn’t just flung a man across the room like a ragdoll. There was a glint of amusement in his eyes as he stopped in front of you, his lips twitching upward in a half-smile.

But what shook Xavier to his core wasn’t just Skye’s appearance. It was your reaction.

You scrambled to pull your clothes back on, the shock evident on your face, but there was something else in your expression that made Xavier’s stomach twist. You didn’t look confused. You didn’t look like you had just been saved by a stranger. There was familiarity there—recognition. And then you spoke, your voice shaky but not surprised.

“What took you so long?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Xavier’s heart skipped a beat. What?

Skye chuckled softly, his voice low and almost teasing. “Is this the thanks I get, kitten?” He glanced back at the man crumpled against the wall, a smug grin playing on his lips.

"I save you, and all you’ve got is attitude?" Skye raises an eyebrow, the smirk on his lips widening as if he’s enjoying this far too much. “You’re getting harder to please.”

Xavier’s mind reeled, his thoughts scrambling to make sense of what he was seeing, what he was hearing. You knew him? The question burned in his chest, but before he could fully process it, another sound drew his attention.

There was a loud thud as Reese came tumbling down the stairs, his body rolling helplessly until he landed face-first on the cold stone floor. Behind him, two figures with bird-like masks giggled, nudging each other proudly.

"We got him, boss," one of them chirped, his voice muffled behind the mask. "Tried to run, but he fell flat on his face." He punctuates his words with another casual kick to Reese's side. "Much like he did just now."

Reese groaned, struggling to push himself up, but when he finally lifted his head, his eyes went wide with terror. He looked past the masked figures, past you, and his gaze landed on Skye. His entire body trembled, and Xavier could see the exact moment the fear set in, the moment Reese understood who he was facing.

“Sylus…” Reese breathed, his voice trembling as he tried to scoot backward, his limbs shaking. “You…you ran away from Sylus?”

The name sent a bolt of electricity through Xavier’s body, freezing him in place. His entire world seemed to tilt on its axis, the ground falling away beneath him. Sylus. The name echoed in his mind, a name he had heard whispered in fear, a name spoken with the kind of reverence reserved for monsters and myths. The ruler of the N109 Zone. The feared leader of Onychinus.

And now, that man—the man who had offered him a ride, the same man who had tried to kill him and stage it as a car crash—was standing right there, in the same room as you. Sylus.

The reality of it hit him like a punch to the gut. This is Sylus?

His breath quickened, his mind racing with a thousand thoughts at once. Sylus—he’s been the one all along. The man with the charm, the mystery. The one who played me for a fool and tried to end my life. He remembered their conversation in the car, the way Sylus had studied him, like he was nothing more than a pawn in some twisted game. And now, here he was, standing over you like you were the most precious thing in the world.

The audio cuts out briefly, some words being exchanged between you and Sylus before it comes back in clearly. A black crow had materialized on his shoulder, and Reese seemed confused that the crows name was Mephisto. Sylus snapped at him, seemingly annoyed he was attempting to talk to you.

Sylus’s dark eyes flicked back toward you, his expression softening in a way that made Xavier’s stomach churn. He watched as Sylus crouched down in front of you, his tall frame looming over you but his movements gentle, controlled. You seemed to be spiraling. There was something possessive in the way he moved, the way he reached out to you.

“Shh, kitten,” Sylus murmured, his voice soft but commanding. “It’s alright. I found you.”

Xavier’s heart pounded in his chest, his throat tight. Kitten? The term dripped with intimacy, with ownership. He watched in horror as you didn’t flinch, didn’t pull away. You just stared at Sylus, your eyes wide with a mix of emotions—fear, confusion, and something else Xavier couldn’t quite place. Tears welled in your eyes, but you didn’t try to push him away. You didn’t run. You just trembled there, your body torn between exhaustion and emotion.

Sylus leaned in closer, his dark gaze locking onto yours. “You’re mine again,” he whispered, his voice a possessive growl that made the hairs on Xavier’s neck stand on end. “Don’t cry. Not now. Not in front of them.”

Xavier’s breath hitched, his body trembling with a combination of fear and fury. Yours? The word echoed in his mind, and he couldn’t shake the overwhelming sense of dread that came with it. Sylus just called you his. And you…you weren’t fighting it. You weren’t pulling away. Xavier’s mind spun with confusion, with disbelief. He could barely make sense of what was happening.

Xavier’s hands gripped the sides of his chair, his knuckles turning white with the strain. No…no, this can’t be happening. The tenderness in Sylus’s voice, the way he looked at you like you were the center of his universe—it made Xavier’s stomach twist with anger. You were his. How dare this man—this monster—claim you?

But then, something else drew his attention.

A blood-curdling scream filled the basement, shattering the stillness. Xavier’s eyes snapped to the figures on the other side of the room. Reese and the henchman were writhing in agony, Reese's body contorted with pain as he was slammed into the wall, their screams echoing through the small, claustrophobic space. But Sylus… Sylus didn’t even look at them. He didn’t flinch, didn’t move. His attention stayed fixed on you, his hand gently wiping the tears from your cheeks as though nothing else in the world mattered.

“Don’t look at them,” Sylus murmured softly, his voice soothing yet firm. His fingers brushed over your face, gently cradling your chin and turning your gaze back to him. “Look at me.”

Xavier felt like he couldn’t breathe, his heart racing as his mind struggled to process everything. Sylus was ignoring the carnage behind him, the screams of the men he was torturing, and was focused entirely on you. It was as if you were the only thing that mattered to him, as if the world outside of you didn’t exist.

His eyes stayed locked on the screen, unable to look away as Sylus reached out, his hand moving gently to your face. “Look at me,” he whispered, his voice dripping with a dark intimacy. “Your tears, your pain, your misery…it all belongs to me.”

"I’m the only one, who gets to see you cry."

Xavier’s pulse pounded in his ears, his skin crawling as he watched Sylus’s possessive, gentle touch. The man was a predator, but the way he handled you, the way he spoke to you, was so calm, so assured, like you were his most valuable possession. And what frightened Xavier the most was that you weren’t fighting him. You were letting him soothe you. You were letting him touch you.

Before Xavier could even begin to process the horror of what he was seeing, another voice broke through the tension.

“Please, make him stop! Ask him to stop!”

Xavier’s gaze snapped to Reese, his blood boiling. The coward was begging for his life, his body curled up against the wall, his eyes wide with terror. But it was your face that made Xavier’s heart ache. Your expression had hardened, your fear melting away into cold resolve. You stared at Reese, your lips curling into a sneer. The audio cuts out briefly before it comes back again.

“Go to hell, Reese,” you spat, your voice sharp and final.

A sickening crack followed, and before Xavier even had time to register what was happening, Sylus calmly stood up. He reached into his coat, pulling out a sleek black pistol. With smooth, practiced movements, he aimed the weapon at Reese without even blinking.

Xavier’s breath caught in his throat, his entire body tensing.

BANG.

Reese’s head snapped back as the bullet tore through his skull, his brain matter splattering against the wall in a gruesome display. His body slumped to the ground, lifeless, blood pooling around him in a thick, dark puddle.

Sylus lowered the pistol, his expression calm, almost serene, as though he had merely swatted a fly. He turned back to you, a soft smile playing on his lips as he looked at your shocked face. His smile—so tender, so full of affection—made Xavier’s stomach churn with revulsion.

“I sent him to hell, just like you said, sweetie,"

Xavier’s mind raced, his heart hammering in his chest as he sat frozen, unable to pull his eyes from the screen. What the hell am I watching? His hands gripped the armrests of his chair so tightly that his fingers ached, but the pain barely registered. His world was narrowing down to this single moment, the horrifying spectacle unfolding in front of him.

His eyes darted to Sylus, who now stood with calm, calculated precision, his face devoid of any emotion as he turned his gaze to the henchman still writhing on the ground. The man’s body was twisted in agony, his limbs jerking uncontrollably as he gasped for breath, his face contorted with raw terror. He’s going to die. Sylus is going to kill him, too.

Xavier’s pulse quickened, a sick feeling swirling in his gut as he watched the tendrils of the familiar ominous red mist around Sylus begin to thicken, swirling with a low, almost inhuman hum that reverberated through the air. The mist was like a living entity, moving with a purpose, snaking toward the henchman with eerie fluidity, wrapping itself around him like a serpent tightening its hold.

The man’s breath hitched, his chest heaving with frantic, desperate gasps, but it was no use. The mist coiled tighter, its grip unyielding as it crushed the air from his lungs. His mouth opened wide, as if to scream, but no sound escaped. His eyes bulged with fear, veins popping in his neck as the mist squeezed relentlessly, cutting off any hope of escape.

Xavier’s throat tightened, his own breath becoming shallow as he watched the man’s body convulse violently, limbs thrashing against the floor in a sickening dance of death. The panic in the man’s eyes was unmistakable, the sheer terror that gripped him as he realized his life was slipping away. The mist was alive, feeding off his fear, tightening like a noose around his entire body.

Sylus stood over him, his hand raised slightly as if controlling the mist with nothing more than a thought. His expression remained cold, detached, but there was something else there—a faint flicker of satisfaction in his dark eyes. He was enjoying this.

Xavier’s stomach churned, the bile rising in his throat as Sylus’s power became terrifyingly real before his eyes. This wasn’t just some mob boss. This was a monster.

The man’s body twitched one final time, his limbs spasming as the mist constricted further, wrapping around his torso like a vice. His ribs began to bend, then snap, the bones splintering under the intense pressure. A gurgling sound escaped the man’s throat as his body gave way, his chest caving in, bones cracking like brittle twigs underfoot.

Holy shit... Xavier could barely comprehend what he was seeing. The sound of bone snapping echoed through the room, filling his mind with a sickening chorus of destruction. He wanted to look away, but he couldn’t. His eyes were glued to the horror as Sylus squeezed his hand into a fist, the motion simple, deliberate—final.

With a sickening, wet crack, the man’s entire body exploded outward. His ribcage folded under the immense force, collapsing in on itself like a house of cards, his spine snapping in two as the red mist continued to crush him.

The impact sent a sickening splatter of blood and tissue across the tiles, a dark, violent stain painting the cold grey walls in streaks of red. His bones crunched under the force, his skull cracking against the hard surface as his remains dripped to the floor in a grotesque heap. The sound echoed in the stillness, the dripping blood the only sign of life left in the room.

The mist slowly receded, dissolving into the air like it had never been there at all.

Xavier’s chest heaved, his breath shallow, ragged, as he sat in stunned silence. His mind couldn’t process what he had just witnessed. The sheer brutality of it, the casual way in which Sylus had destroyed a man’s life with nothing more than a thought—it was too much. Too surreal.

Sylus didn’t even flinch. He turned back toward you, his face softening once more, his cold detachment melting away as he reached out to touch your shoulder, as though nothing horrific had just occurred. As though the world hadn’t just shattered in violence around him.

Xavier swallowed hard, his throat dry, his body shaking with a mix of adrenaline and shock. What the hell is happening here? His mind was spinning, trying to reconcile the image of Sylus—this monster in human skin—with the man who was now gazing at you with such tenderness.

Sylus gently tilted your chin upward, his fingers brushing your skin with a strange sort of intimacy. "Sorry," Sylus says smoothly, his tone as casual as if he had just finished a routine task. His gaze slides back to you, eyes gleaming with quiet satisfaction. "I didn't want them breathing the same air as you any longer."

Xavier’s heart clenched as he saw the tears in your eyes, the way your body trembled. You looked utterly broken, shaken by the violence, but you didn’t pull away from Sylus. You didn’t fight. You let him touch you. You let him soothe you. And that—that was what terrified Xavier the most.

But you didn't really have a choice but to let him did you? Who would refuse a guy that just made a man explode his guts all over the walls?

Xavier sat there, his mind numb and his body frozen in place. The images on the screen had burned themselves into his brain—Sylus’s cold efficiency, the detached way he had slaughtered these men without a second thought, and the possessive way he touched your trembling body. It was like none of it mattered to him. He had done what he came for, and nothing more.

One of the masked men cheered as if he had just witnessed a cool party trick, his voice muffled and gleeful behind the bird-shaped mask. Xavier's stomach turned as he watched Sylus remain calm, entirely unfazed by the grotesque carnage he had just caused. Sylus didn’t even spare the scene another glance. His attention was entirely on you, your trembling body settling in his arms as he picked you up, your form curling inward slightly as if to shield yourself from the reality of what had just happened.

Xavier’s heart ached as he watched you struggle weakly, a part of you resisting, but ultimately…relenting. Giving up. The way you allowed yourself to be held by him—the man responsible for everything—sent a deep wave of anger and helplessness through Xavier’s veins. He wanted to scream at the screen, to break through it and take you back from this monster, but he was powerless.

Sylus paused for a moment at the bottom of the stairs, looking down at your small, shaking form cradled in his arms, then briefly glanced up at the camera. His crimson eyes glinted, and then—he winked. A cold, confident wink that sent a shiver down Xavier’s spine. It was as if Sylus knew exactly who was watching, as if this entire grotesque performance had been for his benefit. He didn’t care about the bloody mess he had left behind. He had what he came for.

The crow perched on Sylus’s shoulder cawed once, flapping its wings as Sylus calmly ascended the stairs with you in his arms, disappearing into the dim shadows above. Xavier watched in stunned silence, his breath shallow, his heart pounding in his chest like a war drum. He fast-forwarded through the footage, his mind racing, but the camera cut out soon after, leaving only an empty, black screen.

Xavier leaned back in his chair, the tension in his body finally releasing as his head hit the backrest, but the relief never came. His head was spinning, everything suddenly crashing into him all at once. Sylus. The truth hung heavy in the air around him, suffocating. Sylus had been the one behind your disappearance. He was the reason you had abruptly vanished from Xavier’s life. He was the monster pulling the strings.

His heart raced as the pieces fell into place, each one sharper than the last. Sylus had tried to kill him, not for the Hunter's Association’s secrets, but because he had been looking for you. And Sylus knew that. He had known that all along. But then… why had he kept him alive? Why toy with him like this?

“I've realized you're much more useful to me alive than dead." Sylus had said to him. The words now echoed in Xavier’s mind like a sick joke.

Useful? Useful for what?

Xavier sat there in stunned silence, his hands resting uselessly on the desk. The weight of it all settled into him, the anger rising and brimming in his chest until it became almost unbearable. His breathing quickened as rage burned through him. Of course, it had to be Sylus. The feared leader of Onychinus, the untouchable ruler of the N109 Zone. Of course, it had to be him. The man who had made practically everyone tremble with fear—the man who had just casually slaughtered people as if they were nothing—he had taken you.

And he was the one who had tried to take Xavier’s life, too.

Xavier clenched his fists, the tension in his body building to a fever pitch. His mind raced, the realization settling deep in his gut, heavy and sickening. Fuck.

He felt…hopeless. What could he do against Sylus? How could he fight someone like that—a man with an army, with power beyond anything Xavier could even fathom? The weight of it all crushed him. The anger simmered, bubbling just beneath the surface, threatening to consume him.

Then, a sound broke the silence. His phone buzzed on the desk, the vibration snapping him out of his spiraling thoughts. His heart skipped a beat as he glanced at the screen.

An unknown number.

Xavier’s breath caught in his throat, a strange, icy dread settling over him as he picked up the phone. His eyes scanned the message.

"I figure by now you've realized what's really going on. Listen closely. I will not repeat myself. Try any tricks or tell anyone, she dies."

Xavier’s chest tightened, panic creeping into his every nerve. His fingers trembled slightly as he held the phone, the reality of the situation finally crashing down in full. This was Sylus. It had to be.

She dies.

The words hit him like a sledgehammer, sending a jolt of terror straight through his core. Sylus had her. Sylus was watching. He had been watching all along.

Xavier’s heart raced, his mind scrambling for what to do. He needed to respond, but the fear clawed at him, suffocating. His hands shook as he typed out the only thing he could think of, his fingers moving almost instinctively across the screen.

"It's you, isn't it? Sylus."

The message was simple, direct. But as he stared down at the words, his stomach twisted into knots. He knew who Sylus was now, but what was he going to do about it? What could he do?

Xavier’s fingers hovered over the screen as he read the response. His heart pounded in his chest, each beat louder than the last.

"You're smarter than you look."

The insult was almost expected, but Xavier barely registered it. His mind was too focused on what Sylus had just revealed—on the horrifying reality he was now facing.

His eyes narrowed as he typed out his reply, his fingers moving with more defiance than his trembling heart felt.

"Well, I'm not stupid. Why would you save her just to kill her? You're lying."

His pulse raced as he hit send, the words blurring slightly as he stared at the screen, waiting.

The silence on the other end stretched out, suffocating. Every second felt like an eternity, the tension building in the room like a storm about to break. Maybe I shouldn’t have said that. Maybe I’m pushing him too far.

Xavier’s throat tightened as his mind scrambled for what he’d do next. Had he made a mistake? Sylus wasn’t just some thug. He was the ruler of the N109 Zone, the man who had tried to kill him. The man who now had you in his clutches.

Then, the phone buzzed again, and Xavier’s stomach dropped.

"Do you want to find out?"

The blood drained from Xavier’s face as he read the message. His body stiffened, a cold, creeping dread settling deep into his bones. The casual threat lingered in the air, icy and terrifying. He could almost hear Sylus’s voice behind the words, dripping with dangerous amusement.

Do you want to find out?

Xavier’s blood ran cold. His chest tightened, and for a moment, he forgot to breathe. The silence that followed was deafening, the weight of the question sinking into him like a lead weight. What did Sylus mean? The threat was clear, but Xavier felt trapped, stuck between the impossible.

He wouldn’t kill you… not after going through so much trouble to find you. That’s what Xavier wanted to believe, but the sinking feeling in his stomach told him otherwise. Sylus was unpredictable. A man who could kill with a flick of his hand, a man who saw people as tools, as possessions.

What if Sylus wasn’t bluffing?

Xavier’s thoughts raced, his mind a chaotic swirl of panic and rage. He didn’t know what to do, and for the first time in his life, he felt utterly powerless. Sylus had control—over him, over you. Every choice was a trap.

His fingers hovered over the phone, frozen as he stared at the message. Do you want to find out?

No. He didn’t.

Xavier's fingers hovered over the screen as he read Sylus’s latest message before typing once more.

"Okay fine. Enough with the games. What do you want from me?" His chest tightened, each heartbeat pounding in his ears like a drum.

"Good to know we're on the same page."

The casual, almost mocking tone twisted Xavier's gut, but it was the rest of the message that made his blood run cold.

"You're going to tell your captain that you saw and talked to your… partner. That she is fine and just felt trapped with work, so she fled to another country. After that, get rid of the SIM card. I will know if you don't. Don't test me."

Xavier’s heart pounded in his chest. The SIM card—the one that had shown him the horrific reality of what had happened to you, the one that contained evidence of something far larger and darker than he’d realized—had to be destroyed. Sylus knew everything. Every move Xavier made, every desperate attempt to unravel the truth, Sylus was watching. Controlling him like a puppet.

His hands trembled as he furiously typed back, the words coming fast, his desperation bleeding into every stroke of the keys.

"I can't. There's an organ trafficking ring going on right under our noses, and they might be stealing women from Linkon as well. I can lie to the captain, but don't you at least care about the people who took her in the first place?"

He hit send, his pulse quickening as the message went through. This was it. His last-ditch effort. If he could just get Sylus to care—if he could find some sliver of humanity in the man, some reason for him to want justice, to see that the people responsible for trafficking you were taken down—maybe, just maybe, he could find a way out of this.

But the silence that followed was suffocating.

Xavier’s heart raced in the quiet seconds that ticked by, every moment dragging out into an unbearable eternity. His breath hitched as he stared at the phone, waiting—hoping—for a response. Come on… care about this. Do something.

Finally, after what felt like an agonizing stretch of time, his phone buzzed.

"I’m taking care of them. Just do what I ask and she lives. Simple, yes?"

Xavier’s stomach churned as he read the words, the cold reality settling over him like a blanket of ice. Of course. Sylus wasn’t concerned about the trafficking. He wasn’t concerned about justice, or the victims, or anything that Xavier cared about. He was focused on one thing—control. He was always ten steps ahead, always moving the pieces on the board to his own advantage.

A wave of frustration, helplessness, and rage swept over Xavier, but what choice did he have? You were still in Sylus’s hands. He could keep pushing, keep trying to fight, but Sylus had made one thing clear—don’t test me.

Xavier's hands hovered over the phone, his mind racing. He felt trapped. Every move felt wrong, but there was no way out, not with you hanging in the balance. His throat tightened as he typed his next message, his heart pounding with the bitter taste of defeat.

"Fine. I'll do what you ask."

He hit send, the words feeling like poison as they left his fingertips.

Xavier's fingers tightened around his phone, his knuckles white as he stared at Sylus’s last message:

"Good. That's what I like to hear."

It was a simple sentence, but it carried the weight of finality that made Xavier's stomach twist. He typed furiously, his heart racing as he asked the one question that had been gnawing at him since this nightmare began.

"If I do this, does that mean you'll let her go?"

He hit send, the cold sweat on his neck making him shiver as he waited for a response. His mind raced, clinging to the faint hope that maybe—maybe—Sylus had a plan that involved letting you go. Maybe there was a way out of this, a way to get you back. Alive.

The phone buzzed in his hand.

"You get knowledge that she's still breathing. Should suffice."

Xavier’s stomach dropped, his body going cold as he read the message. His heart hammered in his chest, rage bubbling up inside him, burning hotter with each passing second. That was it. That was all Sylus was offering—the knowledge that you were alive. Not freedom. Not safety. Just…existence. Sylus had no intention of letting you go. Not now. Not ever.

But why? What was his game? Why keep you? Why was he so obsessed?

Xavier’s mind flashed back to the surveillance footage. To the way Sylus had looked at you. That strange tenderness in his eyes, the possessiveness in his voice when he called you "mine". It hadn’t been cold or detached like the way he dealt with others. It was intimate. Like you were something he cherished, something that belonged to him.

Did this monster…love you?

The thought made Xavier sick to his core. No. Someone like Sylus wasn’t capable of love. He was a killer, a manipulator, a tyrant. People like him didn’t love—they controlled, they possessed. But then… why kidnap you? What was it about you that had caught his attention, his obsession? You couldn’t possibly mean that much to him. Could you?

Xavier’s fists clenched in anger. The thought of Sylus loving you—touching you—made his blood boil. The idea of you, his love, being held by that monster sent a dark wave of rage crashing over him. He couldn't stop the thought from festering in his mind, couldn't shake the image of Sylus holding you close, controlling you with that calm, possessive demeanor.

"Don't think you'll have her for long. I'll find her. And you. You won't like it when I do."

The words appeared on the screen before Xavier even realized he had typed them, each letter a promise of vengeance, of justice. He hit send, the anger burning in his chest like a fire he couldn't contain.

For a moment, there was silence. Then his phone buzzed again.

"I'd love to see you try. Although, you may be a tad bit too late when you arrive. I've already claimed her in more ways than one."

Xavier froze. His entire world tilted as the implications of Sylus’s words sank into his mind like a dagger. Claimed her? In more ways than one? His body stiffened, the air around him suddenly feeling thick, suffocating.

Had this monster…forced himself on you?

His breath caught in his throat, fury surging through him like a wildfire. No. No, he couldn't have. The thought of Sylus putting his hands on you, of violating you in any way, made Xavier feel like he was about to explode. His heart pounded in his chest, rage clouding his vision.

He couldn’t stop his fingers from moving, the words fueled by a deep, primal fury.

"You fucking bastard. I'll kill you."

The message was blunt, raw, and filled with a hatred so deep that it practically burned through the screen. Xavier’s body trembled, his pulse roaring in his ears as he waited, barely able to breathe.

Sylus’s response came quickly, sharp and dismissive, as if this were nothing more than a game to him.

"We'll be in touch. I'll be watching. Ciao."

Xavier's hand shook as he stared at the words. Sylus had won, for now. He had all the control, all the power. He had you. And as much as Xavier wanted to tear the phone apart, to destroy everything in his path, there was nothing he could do. Not yet.

The fight wasn’t over, but it had just gotten infinitely more personal.

And Xavier knew he wouldn’t rest until Sylus was dead.

Xavier stared at his phone in disbelief, his heart racing as he watched messages with Sylus disappeared. What the hell? He hadn’t deleted them. He frantically swiped at the screen, refreshing, trying to bring them back, but there was nothing. Just an empty thread where Sylus’s taunting words had been only moments before. Gone.

His chest tightened, a cold wave of dread sweeping over him. Could Sylus really manipulate his phone? Could he get into his messages, erase things at will? The thought made Xavier’s blood run cold. Sylus wasn’t just some twisted mob boss; he had control over everything—his world, his technology, even his mind. He was everywhere, watching every move Xavier made. It felt like a noose tightening around his neck.

His hand trembled as he stared at the blank screen. Sylus had just stripped him of the only connection he had left. No evidence. No trail.

Xavier swallowed hard and clicked on your profile picture, seeking something—anything—to ground him. Your smiling face filled the screen, staring back at him with that familiar warmth, and for a moment, his heart clenched so painfully that it felt like he couldn’t breathe. You. He could see you so clearly in his mind—your laugh, the way your eyes lit up when you smiled, the way you had looked at him with concern that last night, like you always knew when something was wrong.

He clicked on the last message he had sent you, his heart aching with a bitter sense of nostalgia.

"Meet me outside my door, it’s urgent."

You had rushed over that night, your knock echoing in his memory—quick and frantic, just like you. He could still see you standing in his doorway, breathless, your brow furrowed with worry, the anxious look on your face as you took in his tense expression.

You’d been worried about him—worried about what was going on. He hadn’t meant to scare you, but in a way, your worry had been endearing. You looked so cute when you were worried about him.

He remembered how his heart had skipped a beat when he saw you there, how he’d calmed you down with a soft smile, suggesting the two of you go grab food together. He had something to tell you. Something important.

That night—the last night he saw you—had been etched into his mind ever since. The kiss. The confession. The memory replayed over and over in his head, a cruel reminder of what he had lost. The way his heart had raced when he finally worked up the courage to tell you how he felt. The words had tumbled out of him—nervous, but genuine. He remembered the way you’d looked at him, eyes wide with surprise, and for a moment, he thought he’d blown it.

But then…you kissed him.

God, that kiss. Xavier’s breath caught in his throat as the memory washed over him. The softness of your lips, the warmth of your body pressed against his. The way his heart had nearly burst from his chest when you leaned into him, your fingers brushing against his skin as if testing the waters. He remembered how everything else had faded away in that moment. There had been no Hunter’s Association, no missions, no danger. Just you and him, wrapped up in each other, the world melting into the background.

That kiss had been everything he’d hoped for and more. It had been sweet, tentative at first, but quickly deepened into something more, something real. He could still feel the way his fingers had tangled in your hair, pulling you closer as the heat between you grew. He had wanted to lose himself in you, to never let go. It felt right. More right than anything had in years.

But then…he had pulled away. He had stopped himself. Why? Why hadn’t he just asked you to come home with him? Why hadn’t he let the night go further? He had been scared. Scared of pushing too far, too fast. Scared of ruining what you had just started.

And now you were gone.

Xavier’s chest ached as the regret hit him like a tidal wave. If he had just asked you to stay, if he had let you come home with him that night, maybe you’d still be here. Maybe you wouldn’t have been taken. Maybe Sylus wouldn’t have you now.

His heart clenched painfully as he stared at your smiling profile picture, the weight of his regret suffocating him. He wished he could turn back time, take back that night, change everything. He had been too cautious, too afraid to push things forward. And now… now he was paying the price.

With a shaky hand, Xavier typed a message into the empty thread.

"I am coming, my love. When you read this, we will be together again."

The words blurred on the screen, and he stared at them for a long moment before pressing send. He didn’t know if you’d ever see it. Didn’t know if you’d even get a chance to read it. But it didn’t matter.

He was coming for you.

No matter what it took, he would find you. Sylus or no Sylus, he wasn’t going to stop until he had you back in his arms. Safe.

Suddenly, a sharp knock at the door pulled him out of his thoughts, his heart leaping in his chest.

“Xavier? I heard you were back. Is now a good time?” Captain Jenna’s voice came from the other side of the door, calm but commanding as always. Xavier felt a rush of dread wash over him. He wasn’t ready for this. He wasn’t ready to face anyone right now, to lie to Jenna’s face after everything he had just uncovered. But he had no choice.

His gaze dropped back to his phone, to the message he had just sent you, your smiling contact photo staring back at him like a distant memory of a life that felt so far away now. He had to lie. Sylus was watching. Everything depended on him playing his part.

With a deep breath, Xavier shut off the phone, closing his eyes for a brief moment as he tried to steady himself. The weight of it all—the anger, the regret, the fear—pressed down on him, but he couldn’t let it show. He had to wear the mask. For now.

He exhaled slowly, opening his eyes as he leaned back in his chair. His voice was steady, controlled, even as the storm raged inside him.

"Yes…come in."

The door creaked open, and Xavier sat up straighter, forcing a calm expression as Captain Jenna stepped into the room. His heart still ached, the images of you still burned into his mind, but he would do what he had to.

For you.

You lay on the cold bathroom floor, your body still trembling from the aftermath of your vomiting. The cool tile pressed against your cheek, grounding you in reality, even though you desperately wanted to drift away from it. You felt weak, drained, as though the life had been wrung out of you by your own body’s betrayal. The soft hum of the overhead light buzzed, the only sound breaking through the thick silence that surrounded you. The nausea still churned in your stomach, but now it felt different—this wasn’t from sickness. This was from the weight of the truth sitting heavy in your chest, pressing down harder with every shallow breath you took.

You stared at the boxes of pregnancy tests that sat between you and the bathroom entrance, their neat, pristine packaging somehow mocking you. They were simple—just cardboard and plastic—but they felt like they had the power to tear your world apart. They loomed in the small space like a ticking bomb, waiting for you to take the next step. You knew what Sylus wanted. He wanted confirmation. He had planted the seed—literally—and now he was waiting, watching for the inevitable proof.

His words echoed in your mind, even though he was no longer in the room. "Take your time. I'll be in the room." The gentle kiss he had placed on your forehead before leaving left an imprint, a brand you couldn’t shake off. The way he had looked at you, with that dark, possessive patience, still sent chills down your spine. You hated it. Hated him.

The soft sound of his shoes getting farther and farther away had felt like a death sentence.

Now, you were alone. Alone with the tests and your growing fear.

You curled up tighter on the floor, wrapping your arms around your legs as if that could somehow shield you from what was coming. This can’t be real. Tears pricked at your eyes, but you tried to blink them away. You had to think. You had to focus, but all you could feel was the overwhelming weight of dread pressing down on you.

Your gaze kept drifting back to the boxes. What were your options?

The thought crossed your mind—maybe you could slam your head against the sink or the floor until everything went black. Maybe that would buy you some time. Maybe you could avoid facing this nightmare for just a little longer. But deep down, you knew it wouldn’t work. It wouldn’t kill you. You’d wake up with a concussion, maybe worse, and Sylus would simply chain you to the bed, his control tightening even further.

No. There was no escaping this.

Your chest tightened, and the panic began to rise again, bubbling up inside you until it was choking you. The silence in the room grew heavier, like the air itself was thickening, pressing down on your lungs. You could barely breathe.

You sat up slowly, every movement feeling like you were dragging yourself through quicksand. It’s fine. It’s just stress. You’re not pregnant. You’re just sick. That’s it. The nausea, the dizziness, the aches—they’re from being here. From the constant tension. It’s Sylus messing with your mind.

You weren’t pregnant. You couldn’t be.

But even as you tried to convince yourself, the doubt crept in. The signs had been there for days now, maybe even weeks. The constant exhaustion, the strange tenderness in your body, the way your stomach felt uneasy after every meal. Even the smallest things—like how your clothes had started to feel just a little bit tighter, or how your body seemed heavier, more sluggish. No. No.

You swallowed hard, staring at the boxes again. Despite the lavish bathroom being huge, the room felt too small, the walls too close. Your heart pounded in your chest, each beat echoing in your ears as you reached for one of the boxes, your hands trembling.

Fine. You’d take the test, and then you’d laugh. You’d prove Sylus wrong. You could already imagine the smug look on his face melting away when you showed him the negative result. He was toying with you. This was just another one of his cruel games, right?

Your fingers fumbled with the box, your hands shaking so badly that you almost dropped it. The cheap cardboard tore under your grip, and you finally managed to pull the pregnancy test free. The plastic felt cold and foreign in your hand, like you didn’t even know what to do with it.

How did you end up here? How did this become your reality?

You stood up slowly, your legs wobbling beneath you, and shuffled awkwardly toward the toilet. The nausea rose again, a sickening wave that made you gag, but you swallowed it down, willing yourself to keep it together. It’s just a test. Just a stupid test.

The test felt clumsy in your grasp as you positioned yourself awkwardly. You had never thought you’d ever have to take a test until you were ready for a baby. Pregnancy hadn't been on your radar for awhile. You had always been careful, always taken the necessary precautions.

Birth control had supposed to been your protector.

But then Sylus...

You closed your eyes for a second, biting down on your lip hard enough to taste blood, and then you did it. After a few tense moments, you placed the test on the counter and sat back down on the floor.

Now you had to wait.

The seconds ticked by, stretching into what felt like hours. The ticking of the clock on the wall filled the room, each sound loud and grating in the stillness. Your heart pounded in your chest, so fast and so loud that it almost drowned out the noise around you. Not pregnant. You’re not pregnant.

You curled your knees to your chest, rocking slightly as you waited, your stomach churning with nausea, but this time from the overwhelming sense of dread that was building inside of you. The thought of looking at that test, of confirming what Sylus had already suspected, made your skin crawl. It’s fine. You’re fine. It’s not real.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, you forced yourself to stand. Your legs were shaking, and your hands were clammy as you reached for the test. You squeezed your eyes shut for a moment, willing yourself to have the strength to look. It’s going to be negative. You’re going to laugh at this. You’re going to shove it in Sylus’s face.

But when you finally opened your eyes, the world tilted beneath your feet.

Two faint pink lines.

Your breath caught in your throat, your mind refusing to process what you were seeing. No. You blinked, your vision blurring as you stared down at the test. No. You held it closer to your face, as if maybe, just maybe, you had read it wrong. But the lines didn’t change. They stayed there—two unmistakable lines.

Positive.

The air left your lungs in a painful rush, and the room began to spin. You dropped the test, the small plastic clattering against the tile as your legs gave out beneath you. You crumpled to the floor, your body folding in on itself as the sobs began to tear through you.

No. No. No.

You buried your face in your hands, the sobs coming harder now, shaking your entire body. This wasn’t real. This couldn’t be real. But no matter how much you cried, no matter how much you wanted to deny it, the truth was staring you in the face.

You were pregnant.

Sylus had done this to you. He had taken everything from you—your freedom, your choices, your body—and now he had tied you to him in a way you couldn’t escape. You felt sick, disgusted, and utterly trapped. Your hand moved instinctively to your stomach, hovering there for a moment, but you couldn’t bring yourself to touch it. This was real.

And there was no way out.

The scream ripped from your throat before you could even register the sound. It was raw, primal, and filled with the kind of desperation you hadn’t known you were capable of. Your entire body shook with the force of it, and you dug your nails into the cold tile, gasping for air through the sobs that wouldn’t stop. This can’t be happening. This thing inside you, this parasite that was feeding off your body, off your very life. The thought clawed at your mind, tearing you apart from the inside.

With shaking hands, you grabbed the pregnancy test box, rage surging through you as you hurled it across the bathroom. It hit the wall with a dull thud, the remaining tests scattering across the floor in a chaotic mess. It didn’t make you feel better. It didn’t release the boiling anger inside of you. The sobs only grew louder, more frantic, as the reality of it all hit you like a crushing weight. This was real.

Sylus had forced himself inside you. And now something else of his was also inside you.

You curled into yourself, pressing your hands against your stomach as if you could will the parasite away. Your breaths came in sharp, uneven gasps, your chest heaving with the effort.

Get it out. Get it out.

You couldn’t stop the spiral of thoughts, the feeling of complete and utter violation.

Then, the sound of hurried footsteps.

Through your tear-blurred vision, you saw Sylus rush into the bathroom, his eyes locking onto you instantly. His calm demeanor was gone, replaced by concern. He took in the scene—the scattered tests, the crumpled pregnancy box, and you, curled up on the floor, sobbing uncontrollably.

His expression softened as he knelt down beside you, his hands reaching out as though to comfort you, to soothe your trembling body. “Shh…,” he murmured, his voice calm, almost tender, as he tried to get closer to you. “It’s okay. I’m here.”

But the sound of his voice—that voice—only sent another wave of fury through you. You recoiled from him, your body jerking away as his hands hovered too close, your head snapping up as you glared through tear-stained eyes.

“No!” you screamed, your voice raw and broken. “Don’t touch me!”

Sylus froze, his hands still hovering near you, but his face remained composed, watching your every move, your every tear with that same unsettling patience.

“You did this to me!” The words ripped from your throat, your voice shaking as you let the sobs tear through you again. “You put a parasite in me! It’s feeding off me! I hate you! I hate you!” Your body convulsed with the weight of your anger, your fear, your disgust.

Sylus didn’t flinch. His eyes darkened for just a moment as your words hit him, but he didn’t respond with anger. Instead, he leaned closer, his voice lowering as he spoke, "Honey. It’s okay. You’re overwhelmed. Let me help you.”

The tenderness in his voice only made your skin crawl more, and you pulled away again, pushing yourself against the wall as if it could somehow protect you from him. But you knew better. There was no escaping Sylus, not anymore.

“Get away from me!” you sobbed, your voice cracking under the strain. “I don’t want your help! You’ve ruined everything! You’ve taken everything from me! And now you’ve put this—this thing inside me!”

His face remained impassive, but there was something behind his eyes now—a flicker of something you couldn’t quite place. “It’s not a thing,” he said softly, inching closer again, though still careful not to touch you yet. “It’s a child, sweetie. Our child.”

Those words sent a violent shiver through you, and your stomach turned. Our child. The thought made you feel like you were suffocating. Your breaths grew more frantic, your body trembling harder as the sobs became desperate gasps. No. You couldn’t accept that. You wouldn’t.

“You’ve trapped me,” you whispered, your voice shaking with anger, tears spilling freely down your cheeks. “You’ve ruined my life. I’ll never forgive you for this. Never.”

"You were planning to forgive me?" he asked, half jokingly and half confused. You don't respond immediately glaring at him for a few short seconds, as if trying to force his existence away altogether.

"Fuck off!"

Sylus remained calm, even as you spat your words at him, even as you screamed your hatred in his face. He sat back slightly, watching you crumble before him. He didn’t respond with cruelty, nor did he try to argue. He simply waited, his gaze never leaving you, his presence like a suffocating blanket that you couldn’t escape. You hated him for it—hated how composed he was, how in control he remained even as you fell apart at his feet.

He let your sobs fill the room, let you scream and cry and tremble, but eventually, when your voice grew hoarse and the tears ran dry, he leaned closer again, this time more confident in his movements. He reached out, this time taking your face gently in his hands, his thumb brushing the stray tears from your cheeks.

“You don’t have to forgive me,” Sylus murmured, his voice calm, steady. “But you will understand. In time.”

Your body went rigid at his touch, but you didn’t have the strength to pull away anymore. You were too drained, too broken. The weight of it all had settled into your bones, and you felt like there was nothing left inside of you but emptiness. Even the rage had flickered out, leaving you with nothing but a hollow pit of despair.

“Let me help you,” Sylus said again, his hands still holding your face, his eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that made your stomach twist. “I know you’re scared. I know this wasn’t what you wanted. But you’ll see, sweetie. This child—they will change everything.”

His words made your blood boil again, but the fight had gone out of you. All you could do was stare up at him, your body trembling, tears still streaking down your face. The cold tile pressed against your back, grounding you in this horrible reality. You were trapped. Bound to him in a way you could never escape.

And he knew it.

Sylus’s hands stayed steady on your face, his touch far too gentle for the storm raging inside you. You felt like you were breaking apart, crumbling in his grip, but even through the haze of tears and anger, he remained composed, calm. His thumb brushed away the tears still spilling from your eyes, and he let out a soft sigh.

"I don’t like seeing you cry," he murmured, his voice a low hum that seemed to reverberate through the small bathroom. He tilted his head slightly, his eyes meeting yours, unblinking. "But if you must…then cry on me."

His words made your heart clench painfully, the bile rising in your throat again as the weight of his command—no, his offer—settled over you. Cry on him? The thought disgusted you, but you were too exhausted, too torn apart to resist any longer. The sobs were still clawing at your throat, your body shaking with the effort of trying to keep them down. You hated him. You hated him so much, but he was the only thing there, the only thing keeping you tethered to reality in this moment, twisted as that reality had become.

Without thinking, you leaned forward, your forehead pressing into his chest as the tears came again, harder this time. Your fists clenched against the fabric of his shirt, your sobs muffled against him as you shook uncontrollably. It felt like your mind was unraveling, slipping away from you, and you hated that he was the only option you had for any semblance of comfort. Sylus. The man who had orchestrated all of this.

You despised him, and yet…you clung to him. There was no one else.

You had no other choice.

Your sobs came in waves, each one more broken than the last, your body wracked with the force of your grief. Sylus’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you in closer, holding you tightly against him. His hand began stroking your back, slow and deliberate, the movement meant to soothe, to quiet the storm inside of you. And it made your skin crawl, made you want to tear away from him, but you didn’t. You couldn’t.

He leaned down slightly, his lips brushing against your hair as he whispered, “I’m sorry. I know this isn’t how you wanted it, but…I love you.” His voice was gentle, almost tender, and the sound of it only made the nausea twist harder in your stomach.

"I love you," he repeated softly, like a promise, his fingers tracing slow, calming circles on your back. "I can’t wait to hold our baby. Half you, half me…perfect."

Your body stiffened at his words, bile rising again, but you didn’t move. You didn’t have the strength. Instead, you cried harder into his chest, the fabric of his shirt wet with your tears as you tried to block out what he was saying, tried to close off the part of your mind that was registering the sheer genuineness in his voice.

He sounded…excited. If you didn't know any better, you'd think he was about to start crying.

Disgust rolled through you like a wave, but it was smothered by the exhaustion that had settled deep into your bones. How could he be excited about this? How could he speak so softly, so sweetly, about something so wrong? So vile? You hated him for it. Hated the way he talked about this baby, this thing inside of you, as if it were some dream come true.

"I can’t wait to see what our baby will be like," Sylus continued, his voice warm with anticipation. His hand never stopped its slow, soothing path along your back. "Regardless, they'll be beautiful, Just like you."

You wanted to scream at him. To pull away, to tear yourself out of his grasp and run as far as you could. But the reality was too suffocating, too crushing. Your body wouldn’t move, wouldn’t obey your mind. You were frozen in his arms, forced to listen to him speak about a future you couldn’t even begin to imagine, a future you wanted no part of.

"I don't want to give birth" you sob into his shirt, gripping your fists tighter.

"I know you’re scared," he whispered, his lips close to your ear now, his breath warm against your skin. "But I’ll take care of you. I’ll take care of both of you."

His words were like poison, slowly sinking into your mind, and you wanted to shove them away, to reject every syllable. But his hand on your back, his arms around you—it was all so steady, so calm. He wasn’t angry. He wasn’t forcing you. He was just… there. Waiting for you to break.

"I’m sorry," Sylus murmured again, his voice soft, but full of that dark possessiveness you had come to dread. "But this…this is how it had to be. Things are just a little hard right now. Soon, you’ll see just how beautiful your life will be." His fingers stroked the back of your head gently, his voice a constant, maddening reassurance.

Your sobs began to quiet, but only because you had no energy left to cry. You hated him. God, you hated him. Every word he spoke made your stomach twist with revulsion, and yet, the sobs were now muffled against him, your body leaning into his, helpless in your own weakness.

"I love you," Sylus whispered one last time, his lips brushing against your temple. "And I love them too. Our little family."

A shudder ran through you, your heart breaking under the weight of his words. Our family. It sounded so wrong. So twisted. But he spoke with such genuine tenderness, with such sincerity, that it made your skin crawl. He meant it. He actually meant it.

And you were trapped.

Tied to him by something you never wanted, something that was now a part of you, growing inside you, linking you to him in a way you could never escape.

You finally tore yourself away from him, the anger bubbling up inside you until it felt like it would consume you whole. His touch felt like a poison, seeping into your skin, suffocating you. You stumbled out of his arms, putting as much distance between the two of you as your weakened body would allow. Disgusting freak. The words echoed over and over in your mind, ringing in your ears like a relentless drumbeat. This monster. He had done this to you. He had planted something inside you.

Your feet moved without you thinking, chain noisily dragging on the floor, carrying you out of the bathroom and toward the bed as if you could somehow escape the nightmare unfolding around you. He put a monster inside me. The thought made your stomach churn, your head spinning as you tried to grasp the enormity of it all. You were trapped. Trapped by him, by your own body, and now by this…thing growing inside you.

You could feel the bile rising in your throat again, the nausea twisting your insides into painful knots. You leaned over the bed, clutching the edge of the mattress as your body heaved, but this time it wasn’t just the nausea—it was the sheer revulsion, the overwhelming sense of betrayal. He had taken everything from you. Your freedom. Your choices. And now, he had taken control of your body in the most horrifying way imaginable.

Your mind raced, grasping for a way out, any way out. Hunger strike. You could starve yourself. You could stop eating, let your body waste away until there was nothing left for it to feed on. Maybe then, this nightmare would end. But the thought only lingered for a moment before another, darker idea crept in. Hot showers. You had read somewhere that pregnant women weren’t supposed to take hot showers. Could that work? Could you force your body to reject this thing inside you?

Your mind spiraled, the possibilities flashing through your thoughts in quick, frantic bursts, none of them staying long enough to feel real. You didn’t know if it would work. You didn’t know if any of this would work. But you had to try, didn’t you? You couldn’t let this happen. You couldn’t let Sylus win.

A sharp wave of nausea hit you again, pulling you back to the present, and you gagged, clutching the bed for support as your body threatened to betray you once more. You wanted to vomit, to purge this feeling, this sickness, to purge the very thought of what was happening to you. Maybe you should vomit all over the bed. It would serve him right. His pristine, perfect bed, ruined by the very thing he had caused.

But before you could move, before you could make the decision to act, you heard him behind you.

“Easy, honey.” His voice was soft, infuriatingly gentle, and the sound of it sent a violent shiver down your spine. You felt his hands on you again, his touch light but firm as he gently turned you around, guiding you back toward the bathroom with a patience that made your stomach twist even more.

Why is he doing this? You couldn’t understand it. Your mind couldn’t process the calmness, the care in his movements. After everything he’s done. After all the control he’d exerted over you, the pain, the manipulation…why was he being gentle now? Why was he acting like he cared?

Before you could think any further, your body betrayed you. The nausea you had been holding back surged forward, and before you could stop it, the vomit spilled from your mouth, coating Sylus’s shirt and splattering onto the floor below. The bile burned your throat, and for a moment, you were too shocked to react, your breath coming in short, ragged gasps.

Your heart stopped, panic surging through you as your mind caught up to what had just happened. Shit. You stared at the mess you had made, your body frozen in place as you waited for the inevitable. He’s going to lose it. You had just vomited all over him, all over his perfect, controlled exterior. Surely this would snap his calm. Surely this would make him angry.

But to your utter shock, Sylus didn’t flinch. He didn’t react at all. His face remained impassive, his expression as calm and composed as it had been moments ago, as though the vomit on his shirt didn’t even register.

“Do you feel better at least, honey?” His voice was filled with amusement, almost soothing, as if this were just another normal moment between the two of you, as if you hadn’t just thrown up all over him.

You stared at him in disbelief, your breath still shaky as your mind tried to process what was happening. How can he be so calm? He's seriously asking if you feel better after throwing up on him? You couldn’t speak, couldn’t do anything but give a small, weak nod, your body still trembling from the exertion of vomiting. You did feel better after that...not just physically, the nausea settling at last. Something about seeing Sylus covered in vomit, something he was the indirect cause of, was satisfying.

Sylus let out a low, amused laugh, his eyes softening as he watched you. “Good, that's all I care about” he said simply, as though it was the most natural thing in the world. Without another word, he pulled the vomit-covered shirt over his head, tossing it aside in one fluid motion. His chiseled chest and abs were now fully visible, and despite the disgust still swirling in your gut, you couldn’t help the way your cheeks flushed with heat. You quickly averted your gaze, hating the way your body reacted to the sight of him, hating that even now, after everything, your body still betrayed you.

But Sylus didn’t seem to notice your reaction. Or at least, pretended not to notice. He reached out again, his touch gentle as he guided you back toward the bed. “Come on, lie down,” he said softly, his voice laced with that same unsettling tenderness. “I’ll clean this up. Don’t worry about it.”

You hesitated, the exhaustion settling deep into your bones. You didn’t want to do what he said, didn’t want to follow his instructions, but your body had reached its limit. The fight had drained out of you, leaving you feeling like an empty shell, hollow and spent. Without another word, you collapsed onto the bed, your limbs heavy and weak as you sank into the soft mattress.

As you lay there, staring up at the ceiling, you couldn’t help but watch him through teary, half-lidded eyes. You expected him to be angry, to snap at you, to make you clean up the mess you had made, but instead, Sylus crouched down and began cleaning up the vomit with meticulous care. He wiped the floor with a towel after spraying some kind of cleaner, his movements precise and deliberate, as though this were just another part of his daily routine.

Why is he doing this? The question gnawed at you, tearing at the edges of your sanity. Why is he being so gentle? So calm. Shouldn’t he be yelling at you? Shouldn’t he be furious that you had ruined his shirt, that you had made such a mess? But there he was, calmly wiping the floor, acting like none of it bothered him in the slightest.

It didn’t make sense. None of this made sense.

As you lay there, your body still trembling from the effort of vomiting, you felt a strange sense of detachment settle over you. You were watching him clean up your mess, watching him act like he cared, and it was like you were seeing it all from a distance. He’s supposed to be your captor. He’s supposed to be the monster that destroyed your life, the one who took away everything you cared about.

So why…why was he going to such lengths to take care of you? Especially after ignoring you for days and days on end before his trip?

The questions swirled in your mind, each one more unsettling than the last, but you were too tired, too overwhelmed to find any answers. You hated him. You despised him for what he had done to you. And yet…here he was, gently cleaning up after you, tending to you like you were something precious, something fragile.

When he finished, Sylus turned to you, his expression softening as his eyes met yours. He stepped closer, his movements slow and deliberate as he sat down on the edge of the bed beside you.

“Feeling any better? I have plenty more shirts for you to vomit on if the answer is no” he joked, his voice gentle, almost kind.

You didn’t answer. You didn’t trust yourself to speak. The words stuck in your throat, tangled with the confusion and anger and exhaustion that had settled deep in your chest. Instead, you stared up at him, your tear-filled eyes searching his face for any sign of malice, any trace of the cruelty you had come to expect from him.

But there was none. Just that same calm, that same unsettling tenderness that made your skin crawl.

Sylus reached out, his hand brushing the damp hair away from your face. His touch was gentle, soothing, and you wanted to pull away, to scream at him, but your body wouldn’t obey. You were too tired. Too drained. So you let him touch you, let him stroke your hair as you lay there, staring up at him with a mix of hatred and confusion.

“Rest, kitten,” Sylus murmured, his voice low and soothing. “You've had a long day.”

As he continued to stroke your hair, you felt your body begin to relax against your will, the exhaustion pulling you under like a heavy blanket. You hated him. God, you hated him. But you couldn’t fight anymore. Not now.

And as your eyelids grew heavier, the last thought that flickered through your mind was one you couldn’t shake:

Are monsters capable of love?

You were running.

The world around you was a blur, dark and suffocating, your feet pounding against the ground as you sprinted forward. The only sound filling the air was the piercing cry of the baby in your arms—a sound so loud, so shrill, it felt like it was splitting your skull. You tried to hush it, tried to quiet the wailing, but the baby’s cries only grew louder, more insistent, drowning out everything else. Your breath came in ragged gasps, your heart pounding in your chest as you clutched the baby closer, but it was no use.

You couldn’t escape.

No matter how fast you ran, no matter how far you went, he was always behind you. Sylus. You could feel him closing in, his presence pressing down on you like a heavy shadow, lurking just beyond the edge of your vision. You couldn’t keep away from him like this—not with the baby. The weight of it slowed you down, its cries echoing in your ears, making it impossible to think, impossible to escape.

You needed to get rid of it.

Your eyes darted around, frantically searching for somewhere—anywhere—to put the baby. Your heart raced faster, your pulse thundering in your ears as you looked for a way out, for a place to hide. And then, you saw it: a box. An old, weathered box sitting in the shadows, half-open as if it were waiting for you.

Without thinking, you stumbled toward it, your legs trembling beneath you as you approached. You looked down at the baby in your arms, its face red and scrunched up as it screamed, its tiny hands clutching at your clothes, and for a moment, a flicker of guilt tugged at the edges of your mind. But this is the only way. You had to get rid of it. You couldn’t keep running, not with this weight dragging you down.

The box seemed to beckon you, and with shaking hands, you placed the baby inside. Its cries grew louder, more desperate, echoing off the walls as you closed the lid, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. You couldn’t look back. You couldn’t let the guilt stop you.

The baby’s screams filled the air, shrill and deafening, but you turned away.

You took a step, then another, walking further and further from the box. The cries became distant, muffled, as if the sound was being swallowed by the darkness. It’s over. The baby was gone. You were free.

But then…a voice.

It was small, almost childlike, but laced with something dark, something that sent a chill racing down your spine.

“How could you leave me, Mommy?”

You froze, your heart stopping in your chest as the words hung in the air. Slowly, you turned, your breath catching in your throat as you looked back at the box. The baby’s cries had stopped. Silence pressed down on you, thick and heavy, making the air around you feel too dense to breathe.

“Don’t you love me?” the voice continued, and you felt your blood run cold. The lid of the box creaked open, and your heart sank. You wanted to run, but your legs wouldn’t move. You were rooted to the spot, helpless as the baby climbed out, but it wasn’t a baby anymore.

It had changed.

The thing that crawled out of the box was no longer the small, fragile infant you had left behind. Its body had twisted, morphed into something grotesque. Its skin was pitch black and sickly, its limbs too long, its eyes too wide and gleaming with a cruel intelligence.

The baby—the monster—fixed its gaze on you, a twisted smile stretching across its face. “You’re the monster, not me,” it hissed, its voice dripping with venom. “You’re the one who abandoned me. You’re the one who doesn’t care.”

You stumbled back, your breath coming in shallow gasps as the creature advanced on you, its twisted body contorting as it moved. You wanted to scream, wanted to turn and run, but your body wouldn’t obey. You were paralyzed with fear, trapped in the nightmare as the creature’s words pierced through you.

The creature lunged at you, its clawed hands reaching out, its sharp teeth bared. “You’re the monster!” it screamed, its voice echoing in your mind, the accusation burning into your thoughts as it leaped forward.

And then everything went black.

You jolted awake, your body drenched in sweat, your heart racing as though it were about to burst from your chest.

You held a trembling hand to your chest, trying to calm your racing heart after the nightmare. Your breath came in shallow, uneven gasps, your skin still damp with sweat. Just a nightmare. Another horrible, twisted nightmare. You should’ve been relieved that it wasn’t real, but the fear clung to you, refusing to let go. What if the dreams kept getting worse?

The memory of the baby—no, the monster—flashed in your mind. It had lunged at you, screaming that you were the monster. You shuddered, squeezing your eyes shut, trying to push the image away. It was just a dream, nothing more. But why did it feel so real? And why did it feel like it was more than just your imagination running wild?

You hadn’t wanted to sleep in the first place. The only reason you’d fallen asleep at all was because of your outburst earlier having taken all your energy. The exhaustion had finally pulled you under, but instead of the relief you craved, it had brought you nothing but torment. Awful, suffocating dreams that clung to you even now.

Your hand drifted down to your belly, and you hesitated, unsure of what you were even feeling for.

Are you even real?

The thought echoed in your mind, your fingers hovering over your stomach as if touching it would make it all real, too real. Maybe the test had been wrong. Maybe this was all some twisted lie Sylus had fed you.

But then, another, more terrifying thought crossed your mind. When would you feel it move? The idea made your stomach churn with nausea again. The thought of something growing inside you, something moving, living… it made you want to crawl out of your own skin. You pressed your hand harder against your stomach, as if trying to confirm or deny the existence of this thing.

Suddenly, you heard footsteps, and before you could react, the door opened. Sylus shuffled in, a plate of waffles balanced in his hands. His presence filled the room, his footsteps soft but heavy enough to send a chill down your spine. The smell of syrup and cinnamon filled the air.

"Another bad dream?" he asked, his voice far too gentle for the weight of the situation. You didn’t want to look at him, didn’t want to acknowledge him, but you found yourself nodding despite the effort it took to keep yourself together.

Sylus set the plate down in front of you, the smell of food wafting up, making your stomach turn again. You couldn’t even think about eating, not after the dream, not after the terrifying thought of something moving inside you. You didn't want to eat. Didn't want to nourish the beast inside you. But you stayed silent, gripping the blanket in your lap as you tried to focus on anything but the food or the man standing so close.

He sat beside you, his fingers reaching out to gently stroke your hair, as if this were all so normal, as if you weren’t crumbling from the inside. His touch made your skin crawl, but you didn’t have the strength to push him away.

"I want you to take another test," he said softly, his hand continuing its slow, deliberate strokes through your hair. "No worries, it won’t be the ones you threw on the floor."

You gulped, your throat suddenly dry, dread settling like a stone in your stomach. Another test. You didn’t want to face the reality you were so desperately trying to avoid. Once was enough, wasn’t it? You had already seen those two faint pink lines that had shattered your world. But now, you’d have to face it again.

You said nothing, staying silent as you stared at the plate in front of you, your mind racing. Sylus didn’t seem bothered by your lack of response. His fingers never stopped stroking your hair, a twisted form of comfort that only made you feel more trapped.

"I’d estimate you’re about four weeks and four days pregnant right now, sweetie," he continued, his voice soft, almost as if he were talking about the weather. "At about six to seven weeks, I’m having a doctor come here to do an ultrasound. We’ll also hear the baby’s heartbeat."

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. Ultrasound. Heartbeat. The reality of it felt like it was closing in on you, suffocating you. Your mind reeled at the thought of it—of hearing something inside you. Something that was half him.

You stared at the food, your appetite gone completely now, your chest tightening as you fought the rising panic. You didn’t want to hear it. You didn’t want to see it. You didn’t want any of this. But Sylus was already talking about the future, about this baby, like it was a certainty, like it was his dream coming to life.

You felt like screaming, but the words caught in your throat, trapped by the fear and helplessness. All you could do was sit there, nodding numbly as he continued to stroke your hair, his voice a constant reminder that you were trapped in this nightmare.

You finally mustered the courage to speak, your voice trembling as the words left your mouth. “How do you know how far along I am? Are you secretly an OB-GYN or something?”

For a moment, the room hung in silence, thick and heavy with tension. Sylus’s eyes flickered with amusement before he let out a soft, almost casual laugh, like the question had genuinely entertained him. The sound of it made your stomach churn, the lightness of his reaction so at odds with the fear gnawing at your insides.

“No, kitten,” he replied smoothly, his voice dripping with that familiar confidence that always left you on edge. “I told you. I’ve been tracking your period and ovulation.”

Your body froze. His words were like ice flooding your veins, your blood running cold as realization sank in. You felt yourself recoil, the room suddenly too small, too suffocating. Every muscle in your body tensed, the nausea swelling in your gut as the full weight of what he had just said hit you.

It wasn’t just some twisted joke. He had actually been tracking you—monitoring your body like it was a tool, like he was a puppeteer pulling invisible strings. He knew. Every detail. Every cycle. Every moment when your body had been vulnerable, he had been watching, waiting.

Your thoughts raced back to the night of your so-called “punishment,” the sex had seemed far too strange and easy to even really be considered a real punishment. You had been ovulating that day and he knew it. Now it all made sense. He planned everything. He had known what he was doing—carefully orchestrating every move like a sick game. You had thought he was cruel before, but this… this was something else. Something beyond cruelty.

You felt like your skin was crawling. He had planned it all, down to the most intimate detail of your body. The air felt too thick, your chest too tight as you struggled to breathe, your mind scrambling for some way to make sense of the horror of it all.

"Freak."

The word slipped from your lips, barely more than a whisper, but it carried every ounce of your disgust, your revulsion. You pushed the plate of waffles away from you, the sight and smell of food turning your stomach even more. How could you eat? How could you even stomach the idea of him feeding you after knowing the full extent of his manipulation?

But Sylus only chuckled again, the sound light and unfazed, as if your insult hadn’t landed at all. He picked up the fork and speared a piece of waffle, lifting it toward you with a grin that made your blood boil.

“Don’t be like that, kitten,” he coaxed, his tone playful, teasing, as though he hadn’t just shattered your world with his confession. He held the fork out to you, the piece of waffle balanced delicately on the end as if this were some kind of intimate gesture.

“Come on. Eat.”

You stared at him, your eyes wide with disbelief, your stomach twisting in knots. How could he be so casual, so calm about all of this? You wanted to knock the fork out of his hand, to scream at him, to make him see the rage and fear burning inside you, but the words caught in your throat.

“I’m not hungry,” you muttered, your voice weak but filled with defiance. You couldn’t. You wouldn’t. The idea of accepting anything from him right now made you feel sick. You turned your head away, trying to block him out, your hands clenched so tightly in your lap that your nails dug painfully into your palms.

Sylus didn’t seem the least bit surprised by your refusal. He set the fork down on the plate, his movements calm and deliberate, his eyes never leaving you. His expression didn’t change. The amusement lingered in his gaze, but there was something else there now—something darker, something more determined.

“You can’t starve the baby,” he said, his voice dropping into a softer, more serious tone. The calmness in his voice made the words all the more chilling. “I won’t let you.”

The room seemed to grow colder, his words wrapping around you like a vice, squeezing tighter with every breath. Starve the baby. It was as if he had reached inside your mind, plucked the very thought you were trying to bury, and laid it out in front of you like a threat. He knew. He knew what you were thinking, what you were hoping for. And he wasn’t going to let you escape.

Your stomach dropped, the weight of his control pressing down on you like a physical force. There was no escape. You couldn’t starve the baby. You couldn’t do anything. He was right there, always one step ahead, already planning every outcome. He wasn’t angry—he didn’t need to be. The threat was already clear.

Sylus leaned forward slightly, his gaze locking with yours, his voice steady and unwavering. “I’ll take care of you,” he said softly, his tone almost gentle, but the underlying authority was unmistakable. “You and the baby. No matter what you do, I’ll be here.”

You could feel the rage building in your chest, bubbling up like a storm ready to break, but it was trapped beneath the suffocating weight of his words. The hopelessness. The helplessness. You wanted to scream, to lash out, to fight—but the exhaustion was already pulling you down, drowning you in the realization that there was no way out.

You glared at him, your teeth gritted, your hands trembling from the sheer force of holding back the torrent of emotions. But Sylus remained calm, his gaze unwavering, patient. He didn’t need to push. He didn’t need to force you. He knew he had already won.

Your thoughts raced, swirling in chaos, the air thick with tension. Your mind kept flashing to the nightmare, the baby’s cries morphing into screams, accusing you of being the monster. You couldn’t bear the thought of this thing growing inside you, something that would tie you to him forever.

But Sylus sat there, watching you, his expression a mixture of amusement and something far more sinister. He wasn’t going to let you escape this. He wasn’t going to let you do anything to harm the baby.

His baby.

And you knew, in that moment, that there was no fighting him. He was in control of everything—your body, your choices, your future.

“Eat,” he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper, but the weight of his words felt like chains binding you to him.

And as the silence settled in the room, you felt the walls close in, the hopelessness creeping in around you, suffocating you.

Your hands clenched into fists, your body shaking with a violent, rising fury. No. Fuck him. Fuck this baby. You couldn’t stomach the idea of giving in to his control, not again. You couldn’t let him win. If he was going to force you into this, so be it. You’d fight him every step of the way.

“I’m not eating,” you spat, your voice raw with anger. The defiance in your words was the last shred of resistance you had left, but you clung to it like a lifeline. You glared at him, trying to summon every ounce of strength to hold your ground. “I don’t care what you do. I won’t do this. I won’t be your prisoner, and I won’t nourish this—this thing.”

Sylus didn’t flinch. His face didn’t even shift. Instead, his lips curled into a slow, deliberate smile, his eyes gleaming with a dark amusement that made your skin crawl. There was no frustration in his expression, no anger, just the unnerving calm of someone who was always ten steps ahead. He had anticipated this. He had expected it. And that knowledge made your stomach turn, a chill crawling down your spine.

“Sweetie,” he said softly, his voice far too calm for the storm of emotions raging inside you. He tilted his head slightly, as if contemplating his next words carefully. “You have two choices. Either you eat and nourish the baby...or Xavier dies.”

The name hit you like a punch to the gut. All the air rushed from your lungs, your body going cold as the words sank in. Xavier. Your heart stuttered, and for a moment, the world around you seemed to collapse. You stared at Sylus, wide-eyed and trembling, the room spinning around you.

“No,” you whispered, your voice cracking as you tried to process what he had just said. “No…you’ve killed him anyway! I won’t fall for your tricks!” You needed to believe it—to convince yourself that Xavier was already gone, that Sylus was lying, manipulating you. That this was just another one of his mind games.

But the way he was looking at you, so calm, so sure—it made you doubt. It made you fear.

“Actually,” Sylus cooed, his voice dripping with condescension. “Xavier is very much alive. He’s been looking for you. Quite the determined man, I’ll give him that.”

Your heart clenched painfully in your chest, but you shook your head, tears welling in your eyes. No. He’s lying. “You’re lying!” you screamed, your voice filled with desperation. “You’re trying to mess with my head!”

Sylus’s eyes gleamed with amusement, his lips curving into that same, unnerving smile. “Sweetie,” he said, his voice low and calm, but there was an edge to it now. “I am many things, but a liar to you? I am not. Do you really think that?”

Your breath hitched in your throat, the words catching before you could respond. Of course you thought he was a liar. He was a manipulator, a monster. But something about the way he said it—the confidence, the certainty—made your blood run cold.

Before you could say anything, Sylus stood up, leaving the room without another word. You sat there, frozen, your heart pounding in your chest, the echo of Xavier’s name still ringing in your ears. He’s alive? No way. Sylus was playing with you. He had to be.

Moments later, the door creaked open again, and Sylus returned—holding something in his hand. You squinted, trying to make sense of it, and then you saw it. Your phone.

Your breath caught in your throat as your eyes locked onto the familiar case. Your phone. You hadn’t seen it in what felt like an eternity. It was as if a piece of your old life had been placed right in front of you, a stark reminder of the world outside of this nightmare.

Sylus walked closer, the phone dangling loosely from his fingers as he watched your reaction with a smug, knowing smile. He unlocked it with ease, swiping across the screen with fluid movements, and it didn’t surprise you in the slightest that he knew your passcode. Of course he did. He always knew everything.

But then, he turned the screen toward you.

Your breath stopped in your chest as you saw the text message on the screen, your heart thundering in your ears. The words stared back at you, sharp and undeniable:

“I am coming, my love. When you read this, we will be together again.”

Your hands flew to your mouth as a gasp escaped your lips. Xavier. He was alive. He was alive and looking for you. The realization hit you like a wave, crashing into you with such force that tears sprang to your eyes. All the fear, all the desperation you had bottled up came flooding out. He was still out there.

But Sylus…Sylus had him in his sights.

“No,” you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion. “Leave him alone, you bastard!” The tears spilled over, running down your cheeks as you shook with a mixture of rage and despair. “Don’t you dare hurt him! Please!”

Sylus looked at you pitifully, his eyes softening as if your tears were hurting him. But you could see the satisfaction underneath it all, the way his lips curled just slightly at the edges. “You both love that nickname,” he said with a mocking sigh, as if indulging in a private joke.

“He had similar things to say when I talked to him.”

Your blood ran cold at the thought of Sylus getting anywhere near Xavier. He had spoken to him. Sylus had gotten close enough to Xavier to make him suffer. You clenched your fists, shaking with anger at the thought of the man you loved being at the mercy of this monster.

“Stay away from him!” you yelled, your voice cracking with the intensity of your emotions. You wanted to leap out of bed, to fight, but your body felt weak, your limbs heavy with hopelessness. “If you touch him, I swear I’ll—”

Sylus held up a hand, cutting you off mid-sentence. His eyes darkened, the playfulness vanishing in an instant as he looked at you with cold, unwavering authority. “Eat,” he said firmly, the command in his voice clear and sharp. “I won’t repeat myself.”

You froze, your breath catching in your throat.

“If you kill our baby,” Sylus continued, his voice low and deliberate, “I kill him. Pretty fair, wouldn't you agree?”

The weight of his words sank into you like a stone, pulling you down into a pit of despair. You felt the ground fall away beneath you, the walls closing in as the finality of the situation crashed over you. This was it. There was no escape. If you didn’t obey, if you didn’t nourish this baby growing inside of you, Sylus would kill Xavier.

You could barely breathe, your chest tightening as the tears continued to flow down your cheeks. You hated him. You hated him so much it burned inside you like fire, but you couldn’t let him kill Xavier. You couldn’t.

With shaking hands, you reached for the fork, your vision blurred by tears. The weight of the utensil in your hand felt like a death sentence, like the final seal on the prison that had become your life. Your fingers trembled as you lifted the fork, your stomach twisting with disgust, but you couldn’t stop. You had to do this.

You stabbed the piece of waffle on the plate, your tears dripping onto the table as you brought the food to your mouth. It tasted like ash, like poison, as you forced yourself to chew. Your body revolted against it, every instinct screaming for you to spit it out, to reject it, but you couldn’t. You had no choice.

As you swallowed the bite of food, more tears slipped down your face. You felt hopeless, broken, the fight drained from you as you sat there, silently crying.

Sylus watched you, his eyes calm and satisfied. He leaned down slightly, brushing a hand through your hair, his voice soft and tender now.

“Good girl.”

You wanted to scream, but all that came out were silent sobs. You gripped the fork tighter, your knuckles losing all blood, as you prayed. Prayed that Xavier would find you.

“Hurry,” you whispered under your breath, your voice choked with emotion. “Please. Hurry.”

But deep down, the gnawing fear clawed at your heart—you knew there was no outrunning Sylus.

And as the silence stretched between you, the crushing weight of your reality settled over you like a suffocating blanket, leaving you gasping for breath.

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

everyone settling into the hotel and figuring out the unsaid rules of cohabitation like

1 - it’s okay for Angel Dust to leave work stuff lying around IF ITS WASHED

2 - if you want a drink you ASK Husk. If you want to die you mess with his drink display

3 - TV is timeshared and if Alastor wants to use his timeslot to turn the tv OFF then no you can’t watch it just because he’s not using it

4 - Niffty can pin up the cockroach kill of the week in the lobby for everyone to wince at but it has to be on the cork board Charlie bought for her and she has to take the old ones down first each time

5 - if you break it you rebuild / replace it. You do NOT upgrade it with weapons while doing so (Sir Pentious THIS MEANS YOU) 5b - as long as it gets rebuilt / replaced no one gets to make a huge deal over something being broken or blown up again (or at Sir Pentious for doing it)

6 - don’t move around the fucking lobby furniture without moving it back afterwards 6b - if it’s in your room then you can do what you want but in all shared spaces the furniture NEEDS to be kept tidy and in proper place unless you want to hear swearing and sounds of violence as Vaggie trips over and throws her spear into a wall in frustration again, ruining the paper 6c - every third time this happens everyone has to sit through another presentation by Charlie explaining how having one eye is different when it’s not huge and in the middle of your head and you’re not basically at ground level

7 - Charlie can sing but only between 10am and 10pm unless it’s an emergency. If she tries singing outside of that whoever’s nearest is allowed to GENTLY hush her 7b - if you hush Charlie at any other time Vaggie will chase you. 7c - the above is NOT a recommended source of healthy exercise (you will have trauma)

8 - and above all have fun and FUCK yourself!

- Whoever changed “be” to “fuck”- it’s okay and you are loved <3

- Platonically. You are loved platonically, by me Charlie, who is writing this while standing next to my beautiful girlfriend.

- hey Charlie puff you alright? Sounds like she had a gun to your head while you were writin’ this XD

- It was more like her lips on my neck but yeah pretty close!

9 - Charlie and Vaggie are not allowed to be gross and cute in common areas they have a room for that sappy shit and need to keep it there thanks

- Homophobia.

- this is hell, toots

- You are literally a gay man Angel Dust

- I contain multitudes. Multitudes of d

- Bonding between friends is WONDERFUL but this is a list of rules not a chat room so let’s end things here ha ha ha ! Great job everyone!!!!

- KILL

- niffty what the fuck did you write that in it wont wash off

- BLOOD~

[ginnsbaker]

All Of Your Pieces (5 - The Truth)

Chapter Summary: A nuisance at your workplace forces you to re-evaluate your entire existence in Westview—and Wanda's hand, too. Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Female Reader Chapter word count: 3.8k+ | Chapter Tags/Warnings: Gaslighting

A/N: Thank you to everyone who's commented on the story so far. Please, bear with me! // More author's notes here.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

It doesn’t make any sense.

Geraldine had just stepped out to grab lunch for both of you. “Back in a jiffy!” she'd chirped before leaving. Now, an email sits in your inbox, unread, but the subject tells you everything you need to know. 

Resignation letter, it says, effective immediately.

You stare at the screen, stunned. Geraldine loved her job. If something was wrong, she would’ve said something—wouldn’t she?

You try calling her number, but it goes straight to voicemail. Growing uneasy, you decide to ask around the office.

“Hey guys, have you seen Geraldine?” you ask a group of your coworkers near the copier.

They shrug. “Last I saw, she was heading out for lunch,” one of them offers.

Frowning, you make your way to the lobby. Maybe the receptionist noticed something.

“Did Geraldine pass by here recently?” you ask.

She looks up. “Yeah, about an hour ago.”

“Was she with anyone?”

“I didn't notice, sorry.”

“Sure, no worries.” You head to the security desk next. The guard gives you a smile and a warm greeting before noticing the crease on your brows.

“Everything okay?” he asks.

“Hey, Norm. I’m looking for Geraldine. She went out for lunch and then sent in her resignation. Did you see her leave?”

Norm rubs his chin thoughtfully. “Now that you mention it, I did see her talking to someone outside earlier.”

“Who?”

“A woman. Late twenties, about 5'7". Red hair, pretty. Looked like they knew each other.”

Redheads around that age aren’t exactly common in town—certainly not ones who could be mistaken for your wife.

“Did you catch her name?” you ask.

He shakes his head. “No, sorry.”

“Thanks,” you mutter, stepping away from the desk.

Even if it is Wanda, it’s hard to connect her directly to Geraldine’s sudden resignation. Wanda has her moments of jealousy—which has been frequent as of late—but would she really go as far as to push someone out of their job over it?

Back in your office, you open Geraldine’s resignation email again, scanning for any hint you might have missed. That’s when you notice an attachment you hadn’t seen before. Curious, you click it.

An official-looking document appears on your screen, bearing a logo you don’t recognize: a circle with a sword piercing through it.

At the top, bold letters read: S.W.O.R.D. Alert: Westview Anomaly

Your eyes skim down the page.

*"To all Westview residents,

This is an urgent notice from the Sentient Weapon Observation and Response Division (S.W.O.R.D.).

An anomaly has been detected in your area. For your safety and the safety of those around you, please remain indoors and avoid any attempts to leave town until further notice.

We are working diligently to resolve the situation.

Thank you for your cooperation."*

You lean back in your chair, your mouth twisted into a humorless smile. Is this some kind of joke?

“What’s that?” a voice asks from behind you.

Before you can close the window, Alex, your co-worker is already bent over, eyes scanning the message. As he reads, his face pales, eyes widening with something between fear and recognition.

“Alex?”

He stumbles back, his movements jittery, like a cornered animal. “No… I-I can’t. Please, no more,” he mutters under his breath.

“W-What's wrong?” You take a cautious step forward, reaching out, but he jerks away from your hand like it burns.

Suddenly, he seizes the lapels of your jacket, gripping them so tightly his knuckles blanch. 

“Please, I beg you,” he implores. “Make her stop.”

“Stop who? What are you talking about?”

His eyes dart around, wild and frantic. “She’s doing this. Controlling everything.”

“Alex, you're not making any sense.”

He grabs your arm, eyes pleading. “Please, you have to make her stop!”

“Who? Who am I supposed to stop?” you ask weakly. Deep down, you have a sinking feeling about who he's referring to, but you can't—or won't—acknowledge it.

Wanda is a good person.

She wouldn’t—couldn’t—do this.

If this is some kind of elaborate prank the entire office has set up for you, you swear you'll be the next one handing in your resignation first thing tomorrow.

But instead of the charade ending or Alex cracking a grin, he becomes even more hysterical.

“You have to help us! She’ll only listen to you. I can’t take this anymore—I feel everything she feels—”

You whip your head around and shout, “Are you guys seeing this?!”

No one—not a single soul—acknowledges you. They go about their business like you and Alex don’t even exist. Alex’s hands move from your jacket to your shoulders until he's gripping them hard, pushing you with surprising strength, his eyes panicked and unblinking as he begs you over and over for help. 

When he shoves you again, something in you snaps. You push back, hard.

Perhaps, too hard. 

Alex stumbles, losing his grip. He crashes to the floor, the back of his head colliding with the armrest of a nearby chair with a sickening whack.

“Oh my god! Alex, I’m sorry!”

You drop to your knees beside him, helping him sit up and checking for any sign of injury. He groans, rubbing the back of his head where it hit the chair, then turns to you with a dazed expression.

“What happened?” he asks, wincing slightly. “Why am I on the floor?”

You stare at him in disbelief. “You... you don't remember?”

He blinks, confusion clouding his eyes. “Remember what? Did I miss something?”

“You—” you start, then stop yourself. The frantic look in his eyes from moments ago, his desperate pleas—it’s like it never happened. “Y-You lost your balance,” you say carefully, watching him for any sign of recognition. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

He laughs nervously. “Oh, great. That’s embarrassing.”

You nod, forcing a smile. It doesn’t sit right with you—lying to him—but the thought of him slipping back into that earlier state terrifies you. Part of you is relieved to see him acting normal again, yet you can’t shake the feeling that something is seriously wrong.

You help him to his feet, though your own legs feel wobbly. “Maybe you should sit down for a bit,” you suggest.

“Nah, I’m good,” he says, brushing himself off. “Actually, I could go for a coffee and a bagel. Want to join me?”

You glance quickly at the monitor of your computer. The message from S.W.O.R.D. is still there, glaring proof that the last two minutes weren’t just in your head. Right?

“I—uh, sure,” you stammer. Maybe a walk will help clear your head—or at least help you figure out how to deal with this. “Let me grab my wallet.”

–

Monica Rambeau is back in the real world, but reality feels no less surreal. 

She spends half her day in a makeshift clinic just outside the nightmare she barely escaped, repeatedly telling Hayward she’s fine—ready to work, even—but her clearance is being held off for some reason.

Perched on a flimsy cot, Monica fiddles with the hospital bracelet still looped around her wrist. How could she even begin to explain what it was like? Being trapped in that town, her thoughts—no, her very self—locked away in some distant corner of her mind. She’d been a prisoner, forced to watch herself perform a role she couldn’t control.

Worse, she hadn’t just been aware of Wanda’s grief, guilt, anger, and longing—she’d felt them. They’d coursed through her like her own emotions, impossible to separate, impossible to ignore.

“How are you feeling? Any dizziness? Headaches?” The doctor asks her.

Monica musters a tight smile. “I'm fine, really.” But it's not entirely true. Her head throbs—not from any physical pain, but from the collision of two conflicting realities vying for space in her mind: the life she knows as Monica, and the fabricated existence of Geraldine—no matter how fleeting that life had been.

“So, am I cleared?” Monica asks.

“We need to review all your lab results first.”

“And my uniform?”

“It’s still in analysis.”

“I need to get back out there,” Monica murmurs. The doctor says nothing, retreating to her charts.

Jimmy steps into the tent, catching the tail end of the conversation. “Mighty glad to have you back, Captain. How are you feeling?”

“Like myself,” Monica answers, though she’s not entirely sure she believes it.

“Thank heavens for that.”

Monica’s notices a woman standing beside Jimmy, someone she hasn’t seen before.

“Uh, what’s the latest?” she asks, eyeing the bundle in the woman’s arms—clothes, from the look of it. Something other than another hospital gown, hopefully.

The woman answers, “There’s a briefing in ten. Pants are encouraged.” She hands Monica the aforementioned pants and Monica sighs in relief. Finally, some proper clothes.

“This is Dr. Darcy Lewis,” Jimmy says. “She’s the one who discovered the broadcast.” 

Monica’s about to introduce herself when Darcy beats her to it, adding that she’s a huge fan of hers. 

Before Monica can comment on that, the doctor approaches, holding a tablet. “We need to take these again,” she says, showing Monica the imaging results.

“Those are blank,” Darcy points out with a curious tilt of her head. The doctor explains the need for another blood draw and more tests, but Monica refuses. 

“No, no, no. We’re done here,” she says with finality, before sliding off the gurney and heading toward her new uniform.

—

Nothing unusual happens for the rest of the day. Wanda is in the kitchen, as always—just like every other time you come home. She spends her days cooking, cleaning, keeping everything perfect. Not that you’re complaining, but there was a time when Wanda had hobbies. She used to keep a guitar in her room back at the Avengers compound—

Avengers?

What the hell is an ‘Avengers’? 

And, more importantly, where did that thought come from?

“You're home early!” Wanda says, waltzing into the living room, an apron tied around her waist—exactly as you’d expected.

“Yeah, I wasn't feeling well,” you say, your eyes tracking her carefully.

She crosses over to you in concern. “Oh no, what's wrong?”

“Just a rough day,” you murmur. “Where are the boys?”

“They’re at Agnes’s,” she says with a small smile. “I thought we could have a nice dinner—just the two of us. It’s been a while since we had a proper date.”

You nod slowly. “That sounds nice.”

“Perfect!” Wanda beams. “I’ll just finish up in the kitchen. It’ll only take a few more minutes.”

As she turns away, you’re unable to stop yourself from dragging this out any longer. 

“Wanda, wait.”

She stops, glancing back at you. “Yes?”

You take a deep breath. “We need to talk.”

“About what?”

Rubbing your temples, the frustrations of the past week crash down all at once. “Can we sit down? Please, just come here.”

She obediently takes a seat beside you, her expression unreadable.

“Wanda, something strange is happening,” you say, having a hard time meeting her eyes as you say this. 

“Like what?” You hear Wanda ask beside you, her voice surprisingly even.

“Alex had some kind of breakdown. He was begging me to 'stop her.' When I asked who he meant, he wouldn't say. And Geraldine—she just up and quit without a word.”

“That sounds serious. Maybe he should see someone,” Wanda says. 

“I think that…” You trail off, gathering courage before turning to face her. 

Wanda’s still smiling like nothing’s wrong, her features so exquisitely composed that it's hard to tell whether she has anything to do with this or if you've been unfairly suspicious of her. 

But her eyes tell you something else. All you see is a storm brewing. She has never been able to hide her emotions from you, no matter how hard she tries. Wanda’s eyes have always given her away.

“I think that he was talking about you,” you say slowly, testing the waters. Wanda’s temper isn’t something you shy away from—it’s part of who she is—but right now, you’re treading lightly.

She laughs nervously. “Me? That's ridiculous.”

“Wanda,” you say softly. “I love you. But I need to know the truth.”

She stands abruptly, turning her back to you. “I think you're exhausted. You should go ahead and take a shower—”

You get to your feet as well. “Don't dismiss me! I feel like I'm losing my mind.”

She whirls around, eyes glistening. “What do you want me to say?”

“The fucking truth!”

Wanda flinches, and you freeze, immediately covering your mouth. You’ve never sworn in front of her before—not even during your worst arguments. Which, strangely, you can’t quite recall right now. You know you’ve had fights. Wanda’s had hobbies. You’ve traveled beyond Westview. These memories feel real, even as the details slip through your grasp like water.

She studies you for a long, silent moment, something clearly churning behind her eyes. Once you've simmered down, you know you should probably say sorry for lashing out like that.

“Wanda, I didn’t mean to—”

“The truth,” she cuts in sharply, “is that you're overworked and stressed. You've been distant, imagining things that aren't real.”

“Don't turn this around on me,” you retort, feeling your anger rising again. “Ever since the Harvest Festival, you know things have been off. When Agnes asked me about places I've been outside of Westview, I realized—I couldn't remember anything. It's like my life started the day we moved here.”

She forces a laugh, brittle and unnatural. “That's absurd. We've been here for years. Memories fade. It's normal.”

“No, Wanda, it's not normal,” you say through gritted teeth. “I can't recall our wedding, our honeymoon, the day the twins were born. It's all—”

“The albums are downstairs, Y/N, but we’ll get to them once you’re feeling better. Stress can do strange things to the mind, and—”

“Stop deflecting!” you snarl, your fists clenching at your sides. “It’s not just Alex, or Geraldine. People are acting weird, Wanda. And I think you know why.”

Her arms fold tightly across her chest, a wall going up between you. “I don't have to listen to this,” she says.

“Yes, you do!” You step closer, your voice softening as you try a different approach. “Wanda, I'm scared. I feel like I'm losing my grip on reality.”

She sighs deeply. “I understand you're feeling overwhelmed. But accusing me of... what exactly? Manipulating everyone? I can’t believe you’d even consider it.”

“Should I not have?” you whisper. “I got an email from an organization called S.W.O.R.D. about a ‘Westview Anomaly’. They think something's seriously wrong here.”

Wanda scoffs, rolling her eyes. “An email? It’s probably just spam. I don’t need to be working in an office to know better than to open suspicious messages.”

Tears prick your eyes. Why is she being like this? Why does it feel like she’s making you question your own sanity?

“Wanda, please.”

She places her hands on your shoulder, giving them a gentle squeeze. “Maybe you should rest. We can talk about this later.”

“No!” You shove her hands away with more force than intended, startling her. “Why won't you talk to me?”

Wanda’s expression hardens. Without a word, she turns on her heel and starts walking away.

“Because you’re being irrational,” she finally throws over her shoulder. “You’re not yourself.”

“Maybe because I don't know who I am anymore!”

Wanda stops in her tracks, slowly turning back to face you. “What do you mean?”

“I can't remember my life before Westview,” you say, your voice trembling. “I have no memories beyond this town. Is this all real? Are the boys? Am I—”

Wanda closes the distance between you in an instant. “You’re very real.” Her hands find your face, cradling it with a tenderness that almost feels like an apology. “You’re Y/N. You’re my wife, the mother of my children. You’re my everything.”

“I…” you murmur, your gaze dropping to the floor. You wish her reassurances could sweep away all your doubts and fears, but they just don't.

They’re not enough.

“How do I fix this?” Wanda's voice cracks, her hands dropping to her sides.

You’re desperate to believe her, to feel the truth in her touch, so you reach out. Your hands find her waist, fingers gripping softly as if the contact could tether her to you. As if holding her could make her words real.

“Just tell me what’s going on,” you plead, pulling her closer to you. “Please.”

Wanda looks at you, and you can see the internal struggle play across her face. After a moment, she takes a shaky breath, exhaling like it costs her something.

“You wouldn’t understand.”

“Try me.”

Wanda’s always underestimated how much you get her, how deeply you care and are willing to understand whatever she’s keeping inside. You’ve been the only one who really got her, next to Pietro. But this is different. 

This truth she’s holding could shatter everything. Telling you could mean losing you again—and maybe for the very last time.

Her eyes lift to meet yours again, and there’s a faint smile on her lips. For a split-second, you think she's about to give you what you’re asking, but then—

“It’s better if you don’t know,” Wanda says softly. 

Before you can protest, her hands cradle your temples, and her eyes burn crimson. A warm sensation washes over you, and your vision blurs.

“Wanda?” you manage, a note of alarm creeping into your voice. 

But the world is already blurring, dissolving into a haze, the memories of this conversation fading like a forgotten dream. 

When you blink, she’s smiling at you from the kitchen doorway, her hair tied back and an apron dusted with flour wrapped snugly around her waist.

“You're home early!” she exclaims brightly.

“Yeah, I guess I am,” you reply, feeling a bit disoriented.

Her smile widens. “Perfect timing,” she says, turning back toward the stove. “Dinner’s almost ready.”

“Where are the boys?” you ask.

“They're at a friend's house for the evening,” she replies. “I thought we could have a nice dinner, just the two of us.”

You nod slowly. “That sounds nice.”

She returns to the kitchen, and you sink into the couch, rubbing your temples. A nagging feeling tugs at the back of your mind, like you’re forgetting something important.  It’s probably nothing, you tell yourself. Just exhaustion.

In the kitchen, Wanda quickly dabs a tear from her cheek and takes a deep breath.

“Everything will be okay,” she whispers to herself, just as the oven dings to signal that dinner is ready.

—

The briefing concluded on a sour note.

Hayward has officially escalated the situation, branding Wanda a hostile entity and moving toward full confrontation. Monica, Jimmy, and Darcy protest vehemently, but their objections are dismissed without a second thought. 

It’s hard to justify the reality of Wanda's influence over the town: controlling the residents like puppets, violating their rights every second—it’s not an act of benevolence.

Monica, however, knows grief intimately. She regrets opening up to Hayward about her experiences in Westview, naively believing he might empathize with Wanda’s pain. Instead, he’s weaponized it, twisting her insights to justify his growing hostility. She realizes now just how misplaced her trust was.

“By the way, there’s something we’ve been meaning to ask,” Jimmy says as they are leaving the tent. “Do you happen to know Wanda’s wife in there? Y/N?”

Monica freezes for half a beat before glancing at him. “Yeah, but I didn’t meet her until I was pulled into the Hex. Why?”

“You know she’s dead, right?” Darcy says bluntly.

“I—” Monica's expression darkens with surprise. It's been just a few weeks since she returned from the Snap, vanishing for five years, and she's still trying to catch up on who else has come back and who hasn't.

Darcy picks up the thread of conversation as they walk. “What was Y/N like? Did you get a sense of her personality inside the Hex?”

Monica takes a moment to think. To be honest, she’d worried about you ever since Wanda cast her out. Knowing now that you’re dead should bring some closure, ease her concern—but that only made her regret coming back here without solid answers.

“From what I saw, she seemed like a wonderful person—kind, gentle,” Monica says.

“And she's under Wanda's control, right?” Darcy asks.

Monica shakes her head. “I don't think so. I believe Wanda had everyone in town playing a role, but not her family. I don't have concrete proof, but I could tell they were real.”

“So, it really was Y/N in there? It wasn't someone else just wearing her face?” Darcy presses in disbelief. 

The idea is staggering. Wanda is immensely powerful—everyone saw what she could do with the Hex, reshaping reality itself. But bringing someone back from the dead? That seems like a step too far, even for her. Doesn’t it?

“I honestly don’t know,” Monica sighs, feeling the fatigue settle deep in her bones. “With Wanda, it’s hard to say what’s possible anymore.”

“Do you think talking to Wanda would get her to release the town?” Jimmy wonders.

“We can’t say for certain. All I know is that Wanda had the ability to cast me out. We can’t even confirm if she’s doing it alone. Hayward’s jumped to conclusions, and I hate the direction we’re going with this,” Monica says.

Darcy arches an eyebrow. “Hold up. Are you saying you think Wanda has an accomplice in there?”

“I’m just trying to cover all bases,” Monica says. “Maybe someone else knows what’s going on here and they’re stirring the pot too. We can't rule anything out.”

She turns to Jimmy. “But maybe you’re right. Maybe we can find a way to resolve this diplomatically. I truly believe Wanda means well. She’s just... been through so much, like all of us.”

Jimmy nods in agreement while Darcy shrugs, still skeptical but on board with the plan.

“How do you suggest we do that?” Darcy asks.

“By learning more about Y/N,” Monica says. “Think about it—remember how Wanda reacted at the deli? She was worried about Y/N, right before she threw me out of the Hex. I think Y/N figuring out the truth about their life in Westview is the key to all of this.”

“Wait, what deli?” Darcy grumbles, throwing her hands up like she’s just missed the season finale of her favorite show. And in a way, she has. “That never showed up on the broadcast!”

“Maybe Wanda's editing the footage real-time?” Jimmy suggests.

Monica nods. “It’s possible.”

“Well, Jimmy and I have scoured everything on Y/N,” Darcy interjects, pulling out her pad and scrolling through her notes. “All we found was a measly file in Stark’s database—barely more than a footnote.”

Monica crosses her arms and ponders for a moment. “I think I might know someone who can help,” she finally says.

Jimmy and Darcy exchange a look before speaking in unison. “Who?”

“You’ll see,” she says cryptically, dialing a number as she walks away.

[hgfictionwriter]

Comfort

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: Jessie's surrounded by star athletes day in and day out - and you're not one of them. Sometimes you can't help but wonder why she chose you or if you fit in.

Warning: Smut. Language.

A/N: A bit of angst, but mostly comfort and reassurance. Written in response to this request.

“Okay, who’s ready for a game of pick-up?”

Your stomach sank as you looked over your shoulder to see Morgan holding up a ball before dropping it and skillfully lobbying it over to Sam.

Excited chatter started up and people started to move towards the field. You remained rooted to the ground as they navigated around you.

You were at a park with Jessie and a bunch of her teammates for a Saturday afternoon BBQ. The day had been fun so far, you got along with her teammates well and you’d been having a good time. You shouldn’t have been surprised that football would work its way into the day, regardless, you were hoping otherwise.

While everyone here was a star football player, most even Olympic medal athletes, you were just…well, you.

Somehow, you found yourself as the lucky recipient of Jessie’s love and affection. And for the most part, things were amazing. Falling in love with Jessie was easy and she said the same with you, but still there were moments, like this one, where you really felt like you didn’t fit in.

The girls were splitting themselves into teams and Janine waved you over.

“Come on. It’s just for fun!”

You gave her a wave of thanks and shooed her off, and she eventually relented. Yeah - like you were going to go out there and end up keeled over after 5 minutes of half-ass running while they sprinted circles around you. Worst part being that would’ve been them legitimately going easy on you.

“Here, split this with me.”

Your stomach fell further. Jessie. Your sweet Jessie. Who would never abandon you or make you feel left out.

“Go on, Jess,” you told her gently as you turned to face her, seeing her holding up a drink and two cups. You mustered up a smile and nodded to the field. “I’m okay, really.”

“I play football pretty much every day of my life. I’ll survive,” she laughed. “I’d much rather have a drink and conversation with you.”

“Jessie…,” you trailed off, some of the defeat bleeding into your voice.

“Come on, sit with me,” she encouraged as she set down the drinks and pulled together a couple of lawn chairs.

You offered her a tight smile and sat down. You should try to be graceful about it all.

“My bet’s on Morgan’s team,” you told her, trying to rid your voice of the heaviness you felt. “Loser buys dinner next.” Jessie gave you a dazzling smile.

“Deal.”

—————

“What’s on your mind? You’ve seemed a little off all afternoon.”

You sighed internally, disappointed in yourself for not better masking the funk you were in.

You nestled your head in a bit to Jessie’s shoulder as you laid in her bed together that evening.

“It’s nothing, really.” You answered and hoped Jessie would drop it. Her fingers idly grazed along the side of your arm, her head leaned against yours.

“Okay. But you’ve seemed a bit…I don’t know, yeah, just off, since the park,” she said. “Did I do something wrong?”

You lifted yourself up to look down at her with a concerned frown.

“Not at all. You’re amazing. Seriously,” you went on before laying back down and wrapping an arm across her torso. You exhaled slowly. “Maybe a little too amazing.”

This obviously caught her attention. You felt her shift and angle herself to try to catch your eye. You pulled her back down onto the bed and though she relented, she asked, “What are you talking about?”

You huffed, more-so in irritation with yourself than anything. Eventually, you sat up, though your legs remained entwined with hers. You distractedly played with the hem of your pyjama shirt.

“I-” You faltered and rolled your eyes. She sat up with you and grasped your hand gently. “I guess I’m just feeling a bit self-conscious.” You looked to her and she watched you quietly, giving you space to speak.

“I mean, I obviously knew going into this that you’re a title-winning, medal-winning, all-star athlete and I’m clearly not, but,” you paused, taking a breath to swallow your doubts and forge on, “I guess I just felt very out of place today.” You watched as a subtle frown formed on her face.

“In what sense?” She asked. “The team loves you.”

“I know,” you relented, “but don’t you ever feel a bit embarrassed that I’m the only one who's not an athlete? I'm, I don't know, average? You had to skip out on the game because of me. And if we ever do physical activities as I group I can’t keep up. And I can’t relate when you’re all talking about training and diets and all of that. I just don’t live in your world. I don’t want you to make accommodations for me or to hinder you in any way. I'm sure everyone expected you to date another athlete. Not even necessarily a football player, but anyone in that world.”

“Baby.” To your surprise Jessie was nearly smiling. “That’s what this is about? I’m so sorry that you’re feeling that way. Have you felt like this before?”

You looked away and shrugged. “Now and then. I try not to let myself get caught up in it.”

“Babe. I wish you would’ve told me,” she said, somewhat chiding but with evident affection. “But I’m glad you told me now. Hey, look at me,” she instructed gently as she grabbed your other hand, now holding both. She went on once you reluctantly met her gaze.

“I don’t need you to be an athlete. In fact, one of the things that drew me to you was how you aren’t one. I don’t care if you can run 2 minutes or 120. What I care about is that I feel so connected to you, how we can talk for hours, how we laugh together, how we support each other. And I’m sorry that I’ve left you feeling like you fall short in some way when it’s just the opposite.”

You gave her a small look and she lifted a hand to tuck your hair behind your ear.

“I’m surrounded by football players and sports people all day every day. If that was something I was looking for, I’d say I’d have my pick. But that’s not important to me. And even if it doesn’t seem like it right now, there is life after football for me. Above everything I just need you to know that I love you and I wouldn’t change anything about you.”

You leaned in and wrapped your arms around her, tucking your head into the crook of her neck.

“Thank you. That means so much. I’m sorry I got in my head,” you told her. She kissed your crown.

“Please tell me anytime you’re feeling a little down or insecure. I’m here for you. And I’m happy to reassure you any time you need.”

“Even if I don’t have a 6-pack,” you joked.

“Mm, come on, baby. You know how irresistible I find you,” she said, tone now changing as her hand snuck under the back of your top and her fingers traced along the band of your shorts.

You hummed into her neck as a small shiver went up your spine. Your hips shifted restlessly as a sensation began to stir between your legs.

Jessie moved slightly, causing you to sit up with a pouting look. She smiled at you and leaned in to capture your lips before grasping your hips and shifting you both so she was sitting with her back against the headboard and you were leaned back against her torso, nestled between her legs. She gently brushed your hair to the side and began laying soft, tender kisses along your neck. A small moan worked its way up your throat.

"You're so beautiful." Jessie spoke softly as she continued to lay teasing kisses. "And I want you all the time."

One of Jessie's hands reached up your shirt and cupped one of your breasts, which she began to slowly knead. You let your head fall back against her shoulder, inadvertently opening your neck further up for her, which she took advantage of, now pulling the soft skin gently between her teeth and grazing her tongue along it.

"Jessie," her name already needy on your lips.

"Yes, my love?" She asked rhetorically as she brought her other hand up to rest on your stomach before inching down and sneaking beneath your shorts and the band of your underwear. You rolled your head back further against her in anticipation and you reached down, splaying your fingers out against her thighs and gently digging your nails into the firm muscles you found there. She instinctively rolled her hips up against you and groaned into your neck.

"Baby. You have no idea what you do to me. You get me so wet with just a touch," she whispered against you, goosebumps forming on your skin in response.

"Please don't tease me," you pleaded, hips helplessly thrusting up against the hand that lay achingly close to your clit, but refusing to go over the edge and make contact. You brought your hand up to cup the back of her neck before running your fingers through her hair.

She chuckled against your neck, breath warm and tickling, before she reached further down. Her fingers gently parted your lips, tracing down and you inhaled sharply with a hissing sound.

"I love the way you feel in my arms," Jessie said as she began to kiss the shell of your ear. A shuddering breath escaped you and you rocked your hips against her fingers, looking for more contact. "And I love the way you move for me."

You released a moan as she ground her hips against you and her fingers found your clit, two fingers settling on it and gently, but firmly circling.

"Oh God," you breathed. You could feel your arousal growing and starting to pool at your entrance as she continued to work your clit and trailed her tongue slowly along your earlobe. You began to claw at the back of her head and she groaned low in her throat.

"I couldn't want anyone more," she told you, now switching her hand to your other breast and pulling you tighter against her. Her other hand and fingers remained steady on your clit, dipping down between your folds now and then and prolonging your pleasure. Soft, wet sounds now came from between your legs with each motion of her fingers.

Soon, your hips were moving in time with hers as her breathing began to grow heavier in your ear and only turning you on more. Her fingers continued to attentively explore your slick lips and always returning to your sensitive bud, each time causing you to melt further into her arms and she embraced you without fail.

Your head was turned in towards hers now and you were tugging at her hair as your peak approached. Your hips began to stutter against her fingers, jaw slack and eyes closed.

Suddenly, she withdrew her fingers, your eyes reluctantly opening at the unexpected loss. You tilted your head back to look at her and you saw her eyes trained steadfast on you.

"I want to see you," she said, her voice thick and needy as she began to maneuver you both. She turned you around and kissed your neck hungrily as she began to peel off your clothes. "God, you look amazing," she breathed in admiration as her eyes devoured you.

She laid back on the bed and pulled you on top of her so you were straddling her waist. Her hand was cupping your heat, fingers languidly massaging you as you settled in and looked down at her.

You leaned down, bracing your hands on her chest as you kissed her deeply. The kiss was interrupted, your mouth falling agape as she sunk two fingers inside of you, her thumb now nestled on your clit.

You let out a high moan, tossing your head back and pushing your hips back against her hand.

"Fuck, baby. You're so wet," she said as her thumb began to circle your clit again.

"How can I not be?" You managed to say, pulling a small smirk out of her. She rushed up to meet you, kissing you deeply and wrapping her free arm around your waist before pulling you back down with her onto the bed.

You kissed each other hot and heavy, contact only breaking when high moans fell from your lips as Jessie held you close and steadily pushed in and out of you.

"I'll never get over how good you feel around me," she whispered into your kiss as you rocked against her, your arousal pooling in her palm. "You're perfect for me."

Her strokes were deep and measured, each sending waves of pleasure through you. Between that, passionate kisses and her words of adoration, it felt like she was engulfing you in the most amazing way possible. It wasn't long before you drew a deep, sharp breath and you began to spasm around her thick, generous fingers.

"Oh fuck," you breathed, clutching yourself to her, "Jessie. Oh my god."

"I love you," she responded as she held you tightly through your orgasm. She kissed your face as your body shuddered.

Several moments passed and you eventually collapsed on top of her. She held herself inside of you and slowly played with your hair, laying lingering kisses along your temple as you caught your breath.

You lay in each others arms, neither of you feeling the need to speak. You continued to rest your head against her shoulder and she relished the feeling of your body on top of hers.

Eventually, she spoke, her voice soft to not disturb the mood too much.

"Can I get you some water?"

You shook your head. "No. Stay with me." She nodded against you and gave you a light squeeze.

"Always."

[homestylehughes]

i love you.

pairing(s): jack hughes x fem!reader

summary: in where yn finally tells jack and she loves him.

warning(s): completely fluff! a little suggestive towards the end!

wc: 1.4k

an: hiiii loves!!! writing for jack again, i missed writing for him sooo much. so enjoy this is little cute fluffy piece I wrote, i have nooo idea where this came from, like most of my ideas i pull them out of my ass LOLL. working on other works later today, more will be coming this weekend, to make up for my lack of posting. i honestly missed writing soooo much. okay i'm done, for now lol. hopefully you enjoy, like and reblog if you do. much love as always<3

happy reading <3

Tonight was the night, tonight I am going to tell Jack I love him. Jack and I have been dating for 8 months today, and neither of us have said those 3 special words to each other. I've loved jack for about 5 months now, i mean i how could i not? Jacks been the best boyfriend I can ask for, caring and sweet, loving, all of the above. So why was I so scared to say I love you? 

Saying i love you for the first time in a relationship is a big thing, deep down i know jack loves me, well i hope he does. The fear of him not feeling the same why back scares me, but im not letting the fear of his response hold me back anymore. Tonight is the night.

It just so happens to be our 8 month anniversary, Jack insisting that we go out to dinner at a fancy restaurant. So here I am standing in front of my mirror smoothing and looking at every piece of myself. Making sure my hair falls in the right places, that my dress all fits in the right places. Over analyzing my makeup, constantly fixing the already perfect lipstick I applied 5 times again.

My phone dings, picking it up with shaking hands, seeing Jack texted me saying he’s down stairs waiting for me. Typing a quick response, I grab my bag from my room, and take a deep breath before I head out my door. The walk to the elevator and the ride down the elevator feels like a lifetime. I'm starting to think I just scrape this idea completely and just head right back up. 

The door opens in the lobby, walking out I send a quick smile and wave to the doormen in the lobby. Pushing open the door, I see Jack standing outside his car, his phone in his hands reading something. As soon as he hears my heels click against the sidewalk, his head pulls up imminently, his eyes wide as he flashes me a smile, shoving his phone in his pocket as he begins to walk towards me. 

“Holy shit” is the first thing Jack says as his hands reach my hips, his cool fingers running along the fabric of my dress. “You look beautiful” 

“Thank you, you look very handsome too.” I saw my eyes running over his body, taking in the dress pants and shirt he had on, even swapping his air forces for a dresser type of shoe. 

“Are you ready for dinner, pretty girl?” he asks, making his way to the passenger side of the car, opening the door for me. 

“Yes I am, lead the way” I say , saluting him once he gets into the car. a laugh rips through him as he starts the car, a smile playing on his face as he turns to me. 

“I can't get over how pretty you are” 

“Jack” 

“What i'm just stating the facts' ' he says with a chuckle, i can feel my face heat up with blush as he continues to look at me. 

“You’re so pretty when you blush” 

“Jackkkkk '' I whine playfully out,  turning my body away so he can't see the smile that breaks out across my face. 

“Do you plan on leaving anytime today?” i ask jokingly  my eyes locked on his

“After i do this” he says

I didn't even register what he had said to me before I felt his hand sliding around my jaw pulling my face towards his, capturing my lips into a sweet kiss. Our lips moving in sync my hands moving to cup his jaw pulling myself even closer to him. 

“I've wanted to do that since I saw you tonight,” Jack says as he pulls away from my lips, his hand still cupping my jaw. Our eyes remained locked for a few more moments, tension, and heat filling the car as we stared at each other. 

Jack clears his throat before pulling his hands from my face, my body already missing the contact. 

“I think we should do that again.” i say look at him

“Baby if we do that again we won't make it to dinner, my control is already being tested by how you look in that dress.” he says as he pulls out of the parking spot, his hands holding the wheel tightly as he begins to drive.

I turn to look out of the window as my face begins to heat up with a blush again, smiling as I look at the city lights as we ride past them. My mind slowly reminds me of what I planned on doing tonight, saying I love you to the man that I love. Might be the scariest thing I've ever done before. The devil on my shoulder starts to control my thoughts as I ask myself, why hasn't Jack said I love you first? What's stopping him, then again what's stopping me? 

“Are you okay?” Jack asks, his voice breaking through the silence of the car. “You've been very quiet” he follows 

“I'm okay, sorry” I replied, my hands twirling nervously in my hands.

“You're doing that thing with your hands, somethings up” jack says, i can feel his eyes on me, as he stops at a red light. 

“What's on your mind baby? You know you can talk to me right?” 

“I know i can, i just can't say this to you, i'm scared” i say softly 

“Did someone hurt you, did I do something wrong? Baby look at me” 

Tears threaten to fall from my eyes, as I turn my face towards him, feeling mad at myself for making him feel like he did something, just because I can't express how I feel for him, because I'm scared. 

I no longer want to be scared, I love him. I want him to know that I love him, no matter his response. 

I take a deep breath before saying “can I tell you something?” I ask as he pulls into the restaurant, turning off the car before turning to face me. 

“Yes of course, always” Jack says, giving me a small smile, waiting for my next move.

This is all getting to real, i can feel my hands start shaking, my heart beat increasing by each beat. 

“Okay, i don't really know how to say this, but i'll just say it i guess. I- i love you." I finally said. “And I've loved you for a while now, I never knew how to say it to you. I've been so scared of your response, and i didnt know if you felt the same way. Its okay if you don't feel the same-” 

My rambling is suddenly cut off by the feeling of Jack's lips on mine, his lips dancing with mine, I struggle to keep up with him as he tangles his hands in my hair pulling me harder against his lips. 

Jack pulls away first, our chests rising quickly, he stares back at me with wide eyes. 

“Say that again” he says 

“That I love you?” 

“Yes fuck” he says brining his hand to my cheek again holding it softly, looking at me with love and adoration. “I love you.” he finally says.

“I love you so much,” he says, kissing my lips after every word. 

“Im sorry, i know i should have said it a lot sooner” i say looking at him 

“No, I should have said it first,” Jack replies. “But i'm happy you said it, i truly mean it yn, i love you.” 

My heart melts at his words, Jack loves me, he loves me. I couldn't help but smile brightly at him, Jack returning the same smile to me. Suddenly I feel the car being turned on as Jack pulls out of the restaurant, heading the opposite direction.

“Jack, where are you going? I thought we were going to have dinner "I ask, looking at him as he continues to drive away from the restaurant. 

“We’re going home” he says 

“Why are we going home?” I am still very confused about the sudden change of plans.

“Because I want you in my bed, naked. I want to make love to the girl that I love. Is that okay?” he asks, turning his towards me for a brief moment. 

“more than okay with me” i say 

“I love you.”

[logansargeantsbabymom]

Hi could you please write an imagine for the f1 boys (mainly Charles, lando, Pierre, Charles) where they surprise the reader at work and she works in childcare. Thank you

Hey pretty, thank you for the request <3!

Work Surprises with the F1 Boys

A/N: I did make this where Y/N has different occupations working with children so it's not the boring same old same old for every driver. I hope that's okay!

Follow my instagram account (THATS STRICTLY FOR THIS BLOG) for updates on when i post and fun stuff like that!

Instagram

F1 Masterlist

Charles Leclerc: Pediatrician

I woke up at the same time I have for the past 3 years as I would everyday to get ready for work, at 5:30am. Now I was never and never will be a morning person but I absolutely love my job because it involves me helping kids whether they're sick or just need to get a physical for a school field trip.

I felt my boyfriend stir in his sleep next to me as I tried to sneak out of bed. My attempt of sneaking out though failed as I felt the strong arm of my boyfriend wrap around my waist and yanked me against his body. "Mmmm, don't leave" my boyfriend, Charles whispered against the crook of my neck, which caused me to shiver at the sudden breath hitting my skin.

"Baby, I have to get ready for work." I said as I ran a hand through his messy hair

A groan left his mouth before he continued, "Call out sick" his grip on my waist tightening as he snuggled closer to me to fall back asleep

"No Charles, I have too many appointments today and I won't have any cover. I'll be back soon though, remember the office closes early because it's the 4th of July?" that seemed to persuade him enough because I felt his grip loosen a bit and I took that as my queue to slip out before he had enough time to change his mind.

-

I'd only been at work for about 2 hours and I've seen about 24 patients and attempted to finish some paperwork but every time I get the second to sit down and start the papers, a new patient needs to be seen. I think the last time I've been more stressed in my life than I am right now was back when I was waiting for my score to see if I passed my pediatric exam to get my license and that because I have a waiting room of 6 more patients and all the other doctors and nurses are busy.

I can only thank the heavens because the next patient I had to see turned out to be quadruplets, which would save a significant amount of time on my behalf. Once I called the patients and led them to the room where I closed the door before asking the most important question any doctor could every ask.

"Who's Nicky, Ricky, Dicky and Dawn?" I was slightly annoyed with myself as I finished my question because anyone could tell who Dawn was so I could've easily excluded her from the question.

"I'm Nicky, that's Dicky, and that's Ricky. Dawn obviously is the only girl here so" Nicky said

"Right, well who wants to get their shots first?" I said as I looked at the pan of 8 needles. Each kid needed a flu shot and a hep b shot but as I looked around the already crowed room, none of the kids wanted to volunteer first.

With an unamused look on her face, Dawn reluctantly agreed to go first. It only took about 10 minutes to give all 4 kids their shots and when the last kid got his shot, they all bolted out of the room.

"I'm sorry about them, they hate needles" was all the mom said before she left to follow her kids.

-

It's now 11:55am and the last patient is just about to leave before we close for an hour to have lunch "Okay, if the meds aren't working for your son after about a week, I would come back but if he develops a fever and starts vomiting while taking it, I would suggest taking him to the emergency room." I said as I guided the new mom and her 3 year old daughter to the front lobby.

As soon as the last patient left, I locked the door before making my way to my office to attempt to get some of my paperwork done during my hour break instead of eating.

I was walking back to receptionist desk where I kept my paperwork so I could take them back to my office, only to find it not there. A look of confusion plastered on my face as I continued to look for my missing paperwork. I frustrated groan left my mouth as I realized I'd have to restart all that work.

"I hope you really weren't about to skip lunch for work mon cherie"

A gasp slips past my lips as I quickly turned around to see my boyfriend standing there with a stack of files in one hand and bag of Chinese food in the other.

"Charles!" I said as I walked over to him and took my paperwork back "I thought someone stole these! You scared me!" I placed my hand over my heart and I took deep breaths to try and regulate my heartbeat.

"Sorry, mon coeur but I had to take them because I knew you were going to skip lunch again." A baffled look played across my face because how did he know I have been skipping my lunch breaks to get paperwork done?

"Your coworkers have been telling me you're not eating at work. You can't tell kids to eat to grow and be strong and then not take your own advice. I'm here to make sure that you eat today so I'm making it a little lunch date. Sit and eat."

Lando Norris: Kindergarten teacher

"Ms. L/N, my dad told me that you're dating a famous wace car dwiver, is that twue?" my one student, who's name I just learn was Leo asked me.

Today was meet the teacher day at the school I taught at just 2 weeks before the first day of school and this question was very different than the ones I've been asked before. I looked up at the single dad behind him as I let out a little chuckle

"Why yes I am Leo, is your dad a fan?" I asked as I knelt to be at level with him

"Uh huh! He woves the orwange one!" I've always had a soft spot for kids and right now Leo is making my heart melt.

I didn't have a chance to respond before he ran over to his dad to tell him the good news. I got pulled aside by a parent who told me about an allergy her kid had to a specific cleaning chemical which I made a note of to avoid using in my classroom. I stuck the sticky note on my computer screen before hearing "MS L/N, YOUR BOYFRWEND HERE!" I could recognize that voice as little Leo's.

My head shot up to look at the door and sure enough, my very famous Formula 1 driver boyfriend was there with a bag full of school supplies and gift bags filled with goodies for the kids.

"Kids, I've got presents!!" Lando shouted which caused a little sea of 5-6 year olds kids ran over him making little grabby hands.

Once all the kids got their little baggy of toys, Lando talking to Leo's dad and I answered more questions, the classroom started to empty as Meet The Teacher time ended. The room fell in a comfortable silence as I started to clean up and organize all the supplies I was gifted today.

"Have you ever thought of having a kid or two?" Lando asked, my body tensed at the question

"I dunno, I haven't thought about it. Have you?" I asked as I looked him in the eyes.

"Everyday since we started dating."

Carlos Sainz: School Counselor

"Listen Jess, I can't keep getting you out of trouble. You have to stop getting attitudes with teachers over a small issue." I said with a sigh as I had to deal with a troubled 14 year old freshman for the 4th time this week and it only being Tuesday.

"It's not my fault Ms. Jones was being a bitch to me." Jess said as she shrugged and slouched back in the seat she was in.

"Jess! You can't go around calling your teacher a bitch!" I scolded

"I will if they're being bitches!" Jess shouted

The ring of my school phone is what prevented me from further scolding the student sat in front of me

"Ms L/N's office" I started as I listened to the person on the other line "Okay, tell him to sit at the door of my office while I finish up with this student I have now. Okay, thank you. Bye bye" I hung up the phone before turning my attention back to Jess.

"Do you have another student?" she questioned

"I have another meeting, yes, but you're my top priority right now." I said as I readjusted my position in my chair

"To be honest, I cause these problems because I need someone to talk to and I feel most comfortable with you." Jess admitted as she looked down at her lap

"Jess," I started sympathetically "How about this, once a week we will have a 20 minute meeting to talk about anything and everything you want?" I compromised, which got a nod from her.

I watched as Jess left my office, I attempted to clean my desk a little before bringing my other meeting in before hearing Jess' voice

"Woah, you're hot. Are you a teacher?" before I could questioned who she's talking to I heard a thick Spanish accent answer her question

"No, I just have a meeting with Y/N." Disbelief spread across my face as I recognized the voice. There was no way that voice belonged to who I thought it did to.

I quickly ran outside my office where I was met with the most beautiful man on planet earth and who I was proud to call my boyfriend.

"CARLOS?!" I shouted as I jumped in his arms before planting a kiss to his lips

"Sorry for calling your boyfriend hot Ms. L/N" Jess said before she walked away

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?!" I asked as he put me down but not breaking the hug

"We have the week off before the Miami Grand Prix so I wanted to surprise you." Carlos whispered as he kissed my temple

"Well, consider me surprised" I mumbled against his lips before littering his face in kisses.

Lewis Hamilton: Peds surgeon

I’m currently on hour 8 of my 12 hour hospital shift and I’ve never been more exhausted in my life. I’ve performed 2 surgeries today and I still have one more lined up, now don’t get me wrong, I love my job and everything that comes with it. The ups, the downs, all of it.

I’ve finally finished up a post-op check up with one of my patients before hearing my stomach growl, I sent one of my trusted nurse friends to do the post op check up on the other patient while I grabbed a quick bite before my next surgery.

When I got to the cafeteria, I got a sandwich and sat down with another one of my friends while I scarfed my food down.

“So what’d you do today?” My trauma surgeon friend, Nalani asked as she took a bite of the sandwich she got

“I had to fix a bowel in one kid and another one swallowed a whole bunch of magnetic balls so I had to remove those. One balls tried to stick to the other and pierced an intestine so I had to fix that up. What about you?” I asked a I took another big bite of my food

“Oh well two people came in impaled in the chests with a long rod. Had to separate them, they both survived. It was a real miracle of God because when the images were taken, it looked like neither one of them were gonna survive.”

-

I’d been prepping for my last surgery of the day before I finally get to clock out and not worry about coming back for the next 4 days.

I walked into the OR getting suited up before noticing a figure in the amphitheater which caused me to look out of pure curiosity. Looking up I was locking eyes with the most handsomest man Ive ever seen in my whole life, who just so happened to be my fiancé.

“What is Lewis doing here?” I questioned the surgical intern

“He said he really missed you. The chief of surgery gave him clearance to be there, I think he promised to autograph a whole bunch of things for him and his kids?”

“That sounds like something Lewis would agree to” I giggled as I started to walk to the head of the table before hearing over the intercom

“Good luck with this surgery darling, I love you.”

“I love you too” was all I whispered before starting my last surgery of the day.

Daniel: Summer Camp Director

“Alright everybody, can I have your attention please?” I shouted as I glanced around the room filled with 10-15 year olds.

This is my 3rd summer being a Camp Counselor and I have to admit that I always have a blast here.

“Thank you. My name is Ms. L/N, and I’m the main counselor here at Camp Kikiwaka and I’m going to be going over everything that we’re going to be doing here over the course of the summer and you then I’ll open the floor to you guys so you can ask me questions, okay?”

I heard a sea of “Yes” “Okay” “Got it” before I continued. It only took about 45 minutes to go over the expectations at Camp Kikiwaka and the summer itinerary, “Okay, now does anyone have any questions?” A small hand shot up the second I finished my question

“I thought the big kid camp was the building?” a little girl said

“Yes it is, the camp section for older kids is right next door, why? Do you have a sibling over there?” I questioned as I looked at the little girl in front of me

“So who’s that man and why is he smiling at you?” okay, that was scary at all.

Before I could register who she was talking about I heard an older boy say “That’s Daniel Ricciardo!! What is Daniel Ricciardo doing here?!” which caused me to shoot around to see if he’s actually here.

“Hello guys! Don’t mind me, I’m just here to be your counselor’s assistant for the next week and a half” Daniel said as he walked over to me and engulfed me in a hug, swaying us side to side before placing a quick kiss on my temple.

“What are you doing here?” I whispered, looking up at him to stare in his beautiful eyes

“We have two weeks before the next race so I thought I’d volunteer my time here. I already got permission” Daniel said as he cupped my face.

Turning around I let the kids know the news “Okay guys so this is my boyfriend and your guys’ new camp counselor for a week and a half, Mr. Ricciardo! You guys can go up to him and ask him questions just as you are able to come to me!”

“You guys can call me Daniel, there’s no need for formality. Alrighty, any questions?” Daniel corrected me

“HOW CAN I BE YOUR ASSISTANT IN FORMULA 1????” The older boy shouted which caused Daniel to let out a loud laugh before he answered the question.

This was going to be a fun week and a half.

Pierre: Therapist

To say that today has been stressful would be an understatement. The lady who was in charge of booking my appointments scheduled who people at the same time and then proceeded to fill my schedule today so I couldn’t place the poor girl anywhere so I did the only logical thing anyone would do: I skipped lunch.

Well skipping lunch obviously wasn’t the best idea ever because just about 4 patients after lunchtime is when my headache started settling in, right in that spot behind my eyes. God I hated headaches so much but I despised them even more at work because how am I supposed to be helping my patients if I can’t even think straight.

To make matters worse than they already were, the headache went from just being pulsing behind my eyes to throbbing every time I moved my head in the slightest moment. Thank god this meeting ended quicker than intended and I had 15 minutes before my next patient was to walk in which gave me time to pop a few ibuprofen’s and let it settle in, in hopes that this would go away before the next one walks in.

I must’ve drifted off because two seconds after popping the ibuprofen’s there’s a knock at the door. I suppressed my groan before letting out a weak “Come in!”

I heard the door open but I just couldn’t bring myself to lift my head up

“Woah, you look like shit.” I heard a thick french accent say as the person let out a little giggle.

I knew who the voice belonged to, the owner was my longtime boyfriend who I haven’t seen in 3 weeks but right now, I couldn’t even be excited because I was in pain.

“Pierre please, I love you but right now I have such a massive headache. I feel like I’m going to pass out.” I mumbled into my hands

“Did you eat? I brought food.” He said as he lifted up the bag of french food that he claimed I “needed” to try.

I reluctantly lifted my head so I was able to take a bite or two out of the food. After a few bites I could slowly feel my headache going away, letting out a satisfied groan I continued to dig into my meal.

“You look like you haven’t eaten in days” Pierre chuckled as he watched me absolutely scarf down the food he placed in front of me.

“I feel like I haven’t” was all I managed to get out before I finished my food.

By the time my next appointment arrived, my headache was nothing but a slight throb behind my eyes which I was eternally grateful for.

I made a mental note to thank Pierre in different ways when I got home.

Logan: Speech Therapy

I’d been working with this kid to say ‘Water’ for the past 20 minutes and I’m nowhere with him.

I work with kids who have trouble talking and I get them to where they need to be at whatever age they are. Like if the kid is 4 years old and isn’t talking, I have to work a lot with the kids to make sure that I can get him to talk and be at a 4 year old’s level of communication.

Something about this 4 year old though, I just can’t get him to say ‘Water’ no matter how hard I try. I glanced up at the clock noting that it’s almost lunch time and I would have to end our session soon.

“L/N, your boyfriend is here and he brought food for all of us!” My coworker Destiny said

“Logan, can you help me? I can’t get him to say ‘Water’ and I’ve been trying for the last 20 minutes” I’m pleading with anyone at this point to at least help me get some type of progress done with him.

I watched as Logan got at level with the kid before attempting his own way “Hey buddy, can you say ‘water’?” after a second of silence he tried again “say ‘wah’.”

“Wah” my body tensed at the kid talking

“ good! now say ‘ter’.”

“Ter” I can’t believe he’s doing it

“Yes! ‘water’ !”

“AMERICA”

“WHAT THE FUCK?”

Lance: Nanny

“Baby why are you here?” I shot around to face my boyfriend

“When the fuck did you get here?” I asked in disbelief

“I missed you. How about we dip?” The nerve of this handsome man.

“Lance, I’m babysitting YOURE NIECE because YOU didn’t want to”

“I’ll pay my sister to take her kid back”

“Jesus”

Oscar: Librarian

“Excuse me Ms, do you have the Pete the Cat book? Me and my friend really want to read it. Please” I heard a little girl say.

I looked down at her before typing in my computer to see exactly where in the store it was at.

“Yes, you can follow me right this way and I’ll take you to them!” I said as I made my way over to where the books were placed. “They’re right here then. Just come up and let me know if you need anymore help!” I said as I watched her and her friends grab different books before going over to the bean bags to sit and read.

Back at my desk I was trying to place pre-orders for the new Ana Huang book coming out. I only got to the part where I could place the amount I wanted in my cart before I was being asked a question

“Do you guys have the King Of series? My girlfriend really wants to read them.” I looked up from my computer only to be faced with my Fiancé of 6 months

“Oscar?? What are you doing here?” I asked in disbelief

“I was in the area. Okay well I was a few cities away but it was only a hour drive” He said shrugging

“You’re so weird. The books are this way” I said as I grabbed a hold of his hands to guide him the way to my favorite Authors section.

Max: Nutritionist

“Okay Mom so you want to make sure that baby gets as much veggies in his system and more water, Santa said he only puts kids on the nice list if they listen to their mom and eat what she gives.” I said as I directed that last part to her 5 year old son who scrunched his face before hiding behind his mom.

“See Chase, I told you that Santa said that. He didn’t want to believe that Mommy has ties with Santa.” She smiled at the last part before picking her son up to take him out. “Thank you again, Chase is going to eat his veggies, right Chase?”

“No!” he yelled

“Do you want to be big and strong?” A thick Dutch accent could be heard

“Uh huh!!” Chase replied

“We’ll eat veggies. That’s the only way.” I turned to see my boyfriend Max in the doorway of my office.

“Otay!”

“Oh well that was one way.” The mom shrugged

“Have a good day!” I shouted as she left “I don’t know how you did that”

“Kids love me”

“oh that’s not-”

George: Sports Coach

“RUN THE FUCKING LAPS NOW!!!” I screamed at the kids in front of me

To the outside world I would seem crazy for yelling at a bunch of kids like this but in reality, I’m coaching my brother and his bastard friends soccer team this season and they bet me $20 I wouldn’t say that in front of their parents, so that was a quick $20 I put in my pocket.

“CURSING AT KIDS NOW BABE?” My boyfriend George asked.

He was helping me coach them this year and he’s a really do-by-the-book type of guy and he really disapproved of me cursing at the kids.

“Sorry baby, they deserve it. They said that you’re too bad to be in F1” I said shrugging as I made up that lie

“RUN 2 FUCKING MILES NOW!!”

taglist:

@luckyladycreator2 @itsmiamalfoy @jeffs77 @ilivbullyingjeongin @forevercaffeinated-lee @daemyratwst @gulphulp @callsignwidow @f1wintermoon13 @teenwolf01 @victoriassecret101 @hiireadstuff @formulaal @eddieharrington @kazza72584 @zabwlky1999 @dark-night-sky-99 @rougekiki @xoscar03 @jess-wither @bountychanti @dhanihamidi @Ggasly.p @tellybearryyyy @a-panseuxalmess @love-simon @tallrock35 @iiaik0ii @Milkyymelanine @ilovsyou3000morgan

[frenchkisstheabyss]

♡ But It's Better If You Do ♡

♡ Pairing: rockstar!mingi! x chubby!fem!!tattoo artist!reader

♡ Genre: fluff/angst/sorta suggestive

♡ Summary: Your ongoing love affair with your rocker client is all fine and dandy until you begin to catch feelings for him that send you into a spiral that isn't fine nor dandy.

♡ Word Count: 1.7k-ish

♡ Warnings: drinking, getting tattoos, kissing, briefly reminiscing on getting some top-notch dick, pet names (baby), reader gets turned on by Mingi (because, like, who wouldn't?), I like to say "fuck", & that's about it

♡ A/N: I've combined my neverending weakness for rock musicians, Song Min Gi, and happy endings into one fic and my lil alt girl heart is happy. I hope yours will be too. I may or may not have a thing for turning bad boy Mingi into a simp for reader but, like...ssssh.

It drives you insane when your friends tease you about Mingi, asking what city he’s in now and when you’ll see him next. You don’t know what city he’s in. That’s a lie, you always know. And you have no plans on seeing him ever again. Another lie. You’d stop the world to see him for 5 minutes. From the moment he walked into your shop, seeking an impulsive late-night tattoo, you were doomed to fall for him.

The first time he stopped by your shop it was a little after midnight and you were ready to close up but you were starstruck, you’ll die before you ever admit that, and he was gorgeous so you let him in. His choppy hair was a total mess and his dark eyeliner had all but melted off, the remnants smudged like ash beneath volcanic eyes that engulfed you each time they gleamed in your direction. You did the tattoo, an old-school traditional dagger down his left rib snuck in amongst the other 30 or so tattoos crowded onto his chest.

He paid you 3 times your normal rate and was supposed to be on his way. But you knew from his shows and his offstage antics that he wasn’t one to do anything he was supposed to. Armed with a pretty face framed by the softest cheeks and a plump figure he just wanted to nibble at, he instantly developed a weakness for you. Mingi had to have you and he did. All night. Reclined in your tattoo chair, bent over your workstation, cuddled up on the couch in the lobby. In the darkness of your studio, sweat-slicked bodies reflecting the glow of the neon lights like puddles of rain, he took you every way he could.

And you gave. And you gave. And you gave. Being with him altered everything you thought you knew about desire. About pleasure. Mingi touched you in ways you never imagined someone could. He made you feel beautiful. Worshiped you with his tongue from head to toe until the sun rose. Once it did he was gone, off to some other city. To some other girl in some other tattoo shop no doubt. So you moved on, filing it away as a one-time thing. Only it wasn’t. Mingi came to see you every chance he could.

Even if he was a few cities over he made sure to come by for another tattoo and another night with you. But these passionate encounters, concealed by the shadows of late nights and early mornings, planted feelings in your heart that bloomed long after he left. Your body was beginning to confuse lust for love, or so you believed, and that could only hurt you both. You especially. It had to stop. No more. Never again. 

Your tattoo gun buzzes in your hand, a bundle of needles punching delicate black lines into Mingi’s neck. Never again? Yeah right. This time he wants a death moth on the side of his neck. It’s beautiful, as all your work is, and nearly done. Something he’s thankful for because this hurts like fuck but pissed about because being straddled by you on the couch has always been the preferable position for him. Your thighs double in thickness when they’re spread around him. He can just zone out rubbing and squeezing them.

“Hey!” you squeak when he takes a particularly greedy handful of your ass, “Cut it out or I’m gonna fuck up your tattoo.” Mingi takes a deep breath, his toned chest flexing as his muscles contract. “You won’t fuck it up. You’re too good at what you do. That’s why I come to you.” “Oh, really? Is that the only reason?” He grins and you can feel him staring at you the way he always does before your clothes end up on the floor. It makes your palms sweaty and your panties wetter than they already were. “You know that’s not the only reason, baby.”

Mingi sinks his fingers into your pillowy flesh, leaning forward to kiss you with not a care in the world about it ruining his tattoo. His lips brush yours, heightening the warmth between your thighs and making your heart change rhythm to match him. You want him on you. In you. You need him. Love him. Love him. Love him? “You need to go,” you say, your voice shaking as you flick off the tattoo gun. You’re off of him in a split second, packing your things away.

“Wait, what’s wrong? Did I do something?“ He tails you in your mad dash around the shop, sick at the thought that he might’ve made you uncomfortable. “I can’t—you just have to go, Mingi.” Snatching his t-shirt from the front counter, you toss it at him without looking. You can’t bear to make eye contact. “Did I hurt you?” You unintentionally ignore him, too lost in the tsunami of repressed emotions wrecking your insides. Mingi takes you by the wrist, pulling you close to him before you can get away from him.

“Did I hurt you?” “You didn’t hurt me, okay? But if you stay you will.” Mingi’s hands cradle your face, his mind frantically scanning it for some sign of what’s going on inside your head. “Whatever I did to scare you…I’ll leave but I’d never intentionally hurt you” he swears, “I love you too much for that.” You’re both equally shocked at the words that leave his lips. You weren’t expecting to hear them and, though he means it beyond measure, he wasn’t expecting to it to slip out.

“No, no you don’t. You don’t” you mumble, backing away from him, “You’re just saying that to—” “To fuck you?” he scoffs, in slight disbelief of what you’re implying. “I don’t know” you shrug, “It’s why you sneak off here at 1am to see me isn’t it?” Mingi throws his shirt on, grabbing his leather jacket off of your workstation. “I’ve asked you on dates. I’ve invited you to dinner with my friends. I send you backstage passes to my shows and you never come.”

“I’m trying to be more to you. I just wish you’d let me in” he sighs, stopping to plant a tender kiss on your trembling mouth, “Goodnight.” You're frozen in place, your feet sinking into the checkered tile floors like quicksand, as you watch him walk out of the door. A little voice in the back of your head whispers that he’s right. You have been pushing him away, playfully brushing off his proposals because they must have been a joke. He’s him…a star...and you? You’re just you.

Ignoring the tears clouding your vision, you flop down in a chair and begin scrolling through the texts the two of you exchanged over the past week. You stop at a message sent 2 days ago, your heart stinging at the sight of a link for a backstage pass for both nights of his show. It reads: "It’d be nice to see you. Would love it if you came.” You could take the chance, gamble with your heart—you close out of the thread, swiping to delete it—but it’s better if you don’t.

The roar of the crowd. The cacophony of instruments, harsh vocals, and borderline destruction laid out by the opening band. The chaos going on backstage to resolve last-minute disasters while his barely sober friends bullshit in the green room. The pure insanity of it all usually has Mingi wired but tonight he’s numb to everything. He leans back in his chair, checking his phone notifications. Nothing. At least not from you. He takes another sip of the beer he’s been taking child-sized swigs from for the past hour. It takes like piss, he doesn’t even like beer, but he has to calm his friends’ suspicions that something’s wrong by at least pretending he’s joining in on things.

“Party's here!” Yunho screams, bursting into the green room full of energy. Mingi perks up when he enters, the arrival of his best friend calming his anxiety. Yunho has no problem taking the social spotlight when Mingi isn’t all here and tonight he’s definitely somewhere far away. Yunho spots Mingi seated in the corner, staring into the mirror as he falls endlessly down some mental hole. “Still haven’t heard from her?” he asks, throwing his arm over Mingi’s shoulder. “No. I wanna call her, you know, but…I don’t know.”

Yunho snatches Mingi’s beer, chugging the remainder of it before tossing the bottle in the corner. “Listen to me, you forget her. There are plenty of fish in the sea. Actually, I brought a pretty fresh one for you tonight.” His face painted with a mischievous grin, Yunho slinks back over to the door to retrieve his surprise. Mingi rolls his eyes, his head thrown back in agony, “Yunho, not tonight. I’m not in the mood for this, man. I don’t wanna meet any fucking groupies.”

“I resent being called a ‘fucking groupie’” you pout, sneaking up beside him with the stealth of a secret agent. Mingi turns his head, squinting at the inverted image of you, “You—what are you doing here?” Your smile is awkward and endearing as you nervously fiddle with the lace trim of your black dress. “I’m letting you in...if it’s not too late.” By the way he hops up from his chair, his arms around your waist and his tongue down your throat in an instant, you already know the answer. But it still makes your head spin when he pulls away to say, “It’s not too late. It could never be.”

The head of a heavily pierced girl peeks through the door, her bubblegum pink hair swept into a high ponytail. “2 minutes til stage. Let's go!” she shouts like a drill sergeant and all of the men fall in line, rushing to get Mingi out on time. Yunho does what he can to put some distance between Mingi and everyone else, "He's coming! He's coming! Don't tear my man apart!" Mingi struggles to keep hold of you as what seems like a million hands pull him in the other direction.

“Just go. I’ll be watching so kick some ass, okay? For me!” "For you." You grab him by the shirt, sneaking in one last kiss, “Love you.” “1 minute til stage!” the girl’s voice booms once more. The tide sweeps him away until you can’t see him anymore but you still manage to hear a very excited “Love you too!” in that deep, raspy voice of his. You follow the herd, finding a spot off to the side just as he takes the stage.

Watching him perform, smiling at each other so hard your cheeks ache every chance you can, gets you high enough that you might as well be watching him from a cloud. When rips his shirt off, tossing it into the crowd, he reveals a chest covered in tattoos made with ink laced with silent admissions of your love. Only now they aren't silent. They're louder than every instrument on that stage. Because you're confident now that when it comes to taking a chance on love…on him…it’s so much better if you do.

[aemondapologistfrfr]

The Family Disappointments - Pt 6

modern!aegon x fem!reader 

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Summary: After having settled for the first month you both go out to celebrate the success. Aegon gets things in order so you can finally say yes to his consistent question. 

Warnings: 18+ swearing, drinking, handjob, oral(f), p in v, unprotected, a courthouse wedding lmfao 

Authors Note: i wanna be chill abt this man so bad but i can’t 😪 

Word Count: 4.3k

                                         ᓚᘏᗢ

ততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততত

I rest my head on the back of my friend’s couch as we sit out under the stars. She’s been gone the past couple of months and we’ve been dying to catch up. She looks at me as if I’m another person when I tell her that I’ve moved in with Aegon. 

“I didn’t expect to come back to this.” she shakes her head finishing her glass of wine. 

“I didn’t expect it either, but Gods,” I sigh finishing mine. “He’s just so handsome and sweet and he’s the absolute best fuck I’ve had.” I giggle as she shakes her head smiling getting us more wine. “I love him so much.” I sigh with a smile plastered on my cheeks.

“I have to see him.” she raises her eyebrows expectantly as she fills my glass. I pull up some pictures of him and she smirks at me when a text comes through from him. 

“Go on.” she nods her head smiling to me as she goes to sit back down. 

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

Aegon: i miss you pretty girl 😔 

Y/n: i miss you too

Y/n: i was just talking about how much i love you and how sweet you are 

Y/n: and handsome 

Aegon: i love you too 🥹 

Y/n: yk you’re the best fuck i’ve had right?

Aegon: 🫣👀

Aegon: tell me

Y/n: later we opened more wine 😘

Y/n: come get me i need you to fuck me 🧎🏼‍♀️

Aegon: omw 

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

“Hi.” I giggle as I see him waiting outside of his car. I pull him against me and press my lips to his. He indulges me and holds me tightly pushing his tongue into my mouth. I grind against him and he pulls back chuckling. 

“Let’s go home.” he opens the door and helps me in before he’s starts our drive home. 

“How are you, sweet boy?” I hum playing with his fingers on my thigh. 

“Happy we’re almost home.” he squeezes my leg and I slightly open them looking to him. 

“I need you,” I whine and he groans. “Aegon, please,” he trails his hand up my thighs and dips below my waistband. 

“All this from just thinking about me, pretty girl?” he trails his fingers over my soaked panties. I whine as he pulls his hand out. “We’re home.” he hums parking the car. 

“Please,” I press myself against him once we’re in the elevator. 

“You’re so needy tonight.” he murmurs against my lips. 

“Why are we in the lobby,” I pout as he pulls me out. 

“I wanted some wine too.” he chuckles pulling me up to the bar with him. He pulls me behind the bar and back into the dark kitchens. He starts down an aisle of different bottles and I whine trailing after him. 

“Aegon,” I tug on his hand sighing. “Do you want me to beg you?” he turns to me with an amused smile. 

“I wouldn’t say no.” he chuckles. “Gods,” he groans as I slide to my knees before him. 

“Please Aegon, I need you. I just wanna come around you.” I push out my lip and wrap my hands around his thighs. He brings his hand to my cheek and I lean into his touch. 

“Look at you so desperate, pretty girl.” his words low. 

“Please,” I whimper bringing my hands to the waistband of his sweats. “Lemme just-“

“Let’s go upstairs.” he pulls me up and is tugging me towards the elevator. 

“What about the wine?” my question is forgotten the second his lips touch mine in the elevator. His hand pushes into my pants and I moan into his mouth. My hips chase his fingers as he circles around my throbbing bud. “Aegon,” I pant into his mouth. 

“Shh,” he pulls me out of the elevator and is tugging me up the stairs to our room. Once we enter I’m on him. I pull my clothes off as quickly as I can and he chuckles helping my fumbling hands. 

“Please Aegon, please,” I whisper trailing my hands under his shirt. He pulls it off and I kiss across his chest trying to get him closer. We fall back onto the bed and he stays pressed against me. 

“What got you so worked up?” his fingers glide through my wetness. 

“You,” I pant into his mouth. “I had some wine and I wanted you so badly.” I sigh as his fingers push into me. 

“What’d you want me to do?” he whispers against my lips. 

“Make me come, fuck me,” I press my lips against his. “All night, I just need you in me.” I hold him against me and he groans. “Please,” I beg as he starts to pump his fingers faster. 

“Gods Y/n,” he grunts. He circles against my bud and I come around his fingers. He pulls his fingers out and is spreading my wetness around his length. He pushes into me and my toes curl. 

“I’m yours,” I squeeze around him and his forehead rests against mine. “Fuck, I love you so much.” I pant between us. He snaps his hips into me and I writhe beneath him. 

“I love you.” he presses his lips against mine. His strokes are hard and deep. My breath catches with every pump. I hold him against me as my hips push into his. “You feel so good, pretty girl.” he rasps as his hips start push into me faster. 

“Gods you fuck me so good.” my words slurred with pleasure. “So full of you.” I whine as his thrusts become harder. His fingers find my bud and my high washes through me. His hips slow as he starts to fill me. He rests his head in my neck staying deep within me. When he goes to pull out I wrap my legs around him keeping him against me. 

“Fuck,” his voice wrecked. 

“Just stay.” I hum bringing my hands to his hair. We slowly push against each other whining and whispering words of adoration. As we continue to grind against each other he hardens in me. 

ততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততত

Today we have a meeting with the building manager to see how the first month has gone. Aegon has been on edge all morning thinking the worst and that we’ll get terrible news. I take the time to sit him down and settle him. I  reassure him as he looks to me with his glassy eyes and a frown. 

“What if he yells at me?” he looks up at me as I cup his cheeks. 

“Then I’ll yell at him.” I shake my head. “You’re doing such a good job, sweet boy.” I hum pressing a kiss against his forehead. 

“I love you so much.” his fingers grip my waist tighter as he pulls me closer. 

“I love you too.” I pull him up with me and we make our way down to the restaurant for our meeting.

“We’ve had a great first month.” the building manager sits down with us. “The transition has been smooth and there’s been no complaints, only praise.” he nods looking at his computer screen. 

“So they like us?” Aegon looks hopeful as he picks at his nails. I reach over and grab his hand offering him a comforting smile. 

“They do. Very much. They’ve enjoyed the changes, no matter how subtle.” he nods smiling to both of us. He goes over a couple more details of what the rest of the building staff and tenants are saying. 

“That’s amazing to hear.” I pat Aegons hand. 

“I will let you know if there’s anything I should need from you both. If not, I will see you next month for the meeting.” he stands and walks us to the door. 

“Thank you again.” Aegon shakes his hand and we start down the hall. 

“I’m proud of you.” his cheeks redden as he turns to me. 

“I never could’ve done any of this without you.” he pulls me into a tight hug once we get in the elevator. 

“Should we go out and celebrate tonight?” I pepper him with kisses as he laughs. 

“What do you have in mind?” his hands wrap around my waist. 

“Dancing, drinking, anything.” I kiss his lips. “Let’s pretend we’re not responsible for the night.” I mumble against his lips. 

“Just for the night.” he smiles against me as we mold to each other. 

“I’ll call a car to come get us in a couple of hours.” I tug him out of the elevator and our cats greet us at the door. 

“Mommy and daddy are going out later. You’ll have to be good boys while we’re gone.” Aegon preens as he scoops up both of them. 

“Look at all of my sweet boys.” I scratch their heads before pinching Aegons cheeks. “Mommy loves you all so much.” I coo pressing kisses on all three of them. We pepper our cats with attention before I pull apart and walk upstairs to begin getting ready. 

“Come give me attention.” Aegon pouts from the bed. 

“I’m getting in the shower.” I hum from the bathroom and I hear his feet hit the ground before he stumbles into the bathroom pulling his shirt off. “That wasn’t necessarily an invitation.” I chuckle raising an eyebrow as he starts to push down his pants. 

“I need to shower too. Let’s save water.” he smirks pushing past me and turning on the water. The bathroom starts to steam and I roll my eyes starting to peel off my clothes. I step into the shower and Aegons wet hands pull me against him. 

“Let me take care of you.” he pulls me under the water and I sigh as the hot water trickles down me. He starts to wash my hair and I moan as his fingers scrape against my scalp. He lets the conditioner sit while he washes my body worshipping as he goes. 

“Thank you, sweet boy.” I hum as he lets the water wash out the rest of the soap while running his hands through my hair. “Let me take care of you now.” I bring him under the water to wet his hair. He steps closer to me smiling as my hands bring soap to his hair. He groans as my nails lather the suds in. 

“Your hands always feel so amazing.” he sighs wrapping his arms around my waist as I start to wash the soap out. I wash his body and he squirms in my arms when I refuse to get side tracked. 

“Do they?” my voice soft as I trail them down his chest.

“Please,” he whines and I lose all of my resolve. My hand slides around his hardened length and he rests his forehead against mine as he softly whimpers. I speed up my hand and I bring my other to his back and press him closer against me. “Please, I’ll be a good boy.”his voice breaks and I start to kiss down his neck. He trembles in my arms as I squeeze around his tip while he starts to jerk his hips into my hand. 

“You’re always such a good boy for me.” I whisper as I nibble on his neck. He whines digging his fingers into my hips. “Are you gunna come for me?” I lick across his neck and he nods his head. 

“Yeah, I’m gunna- I’m,” his voice cracks as he gasps. He bursts in my hand and I continue to stroke him through it until he’s panting. 

“You did so good.” I murmur as I kiss up his jaw to his mouth. His mouth melts into mine as he moans. I turn off the water and pull us out. He looks to me with low lids as I wrap him in a towel before grabbing my own. 

“Go take a nap so I can get ready.” I kiss him once more before sending him back out into the bedroom. 

I use my time to pamper myself before slipping into a revealing dress. As I begin to place my finishing touches I walk out into our room to see him sprawled out on the bed asleep. I crawl into bed beside him and slowly start to brush back his hair. He rolls over and hugs me pulling me to him. 

“It’s time to get ready.” I hum wiggling out of his arms and rising from the bed. He sits up and wipes his eyes looking to me. 

“That’s what you’re wearing?” Aegon rasps. 

“You don’t like it?” I bite my lip looking down. 

“I want to take it off of you.” his eyes darken as he starts to get out of bed. 

“No, we're going out.” I pout. “The car will be here in 30 minutes.” I let my eyes trail down his nude body. 

“That’s more than enough time.” he stalks over to me unabashed. 

“Aegon.” I look to him with a raised eyebrow. 

“Hm?” he stops in front of me and I drag my eyes up to his. 

“Go get dressed like a good boy.” I keep my words soft and his cheeks flush. I smile to myself as he walks past me to our closet and starts to pull on his clothes. He comes out fully dressed with a small blush still on his face. He walks over to me and places a soft kiss on my lips. 

“Am I still your good boy?” he murmurs against my lips and a smile spreads across my face. 

“Yes, Aegon. You’re still my good boy.” he presses his lips against mine feverishly and I chuckle pulling back. “Let’s go.” I twine our fingers and tug him down the stairs with me. We leave out the main doors and slip into the black car. The car ride is quick while I bat Aegons hands away until we stop in front of the club. 

We walk through the front door passing the line and he’s pulling us to a private table in an instant. A waitress comes by with drinks and we sit back on the couch watching the depravity on the dance floor. My heart beats with the thrum of the music as the drinks start to flow. After we finish a second drink I pull Aegon up with me and we squeeze through the bodies. 

“My pretty girl.” Aegon whispers into my ear as he pulls me close. My hands travel up his chest as we move with the music. One of his hands travel to my hair and encases me into a bruising kiss. His other hand travels down to my ass and squeezes it roughly. 

“Aegon,” I whine into his mouth as I press my body into his. He pulls me flush against him and grinds himself into me. Our tongues clash as we try to get closer. My hands push under his shirt just wanting to touch him. My hands cling onto his back as I press my chest into him. 

“Wanna fuck you.” he pants into my ear and I shake my head. 

“We’re dancing.” I shout over the music and feel his hand slip between us. My feet falter as I feel his hand trail between my thighs. He holds me against him as he pushes my panties to the side. “Aegon,” I plead as his fingers brush against my bud. 

“Yes, pretty girl?” he hums capturing my lips and trailing his fingers through me. My breathing shudders as he brings wetness from my core to swirl around my bud. 

“Aeg-“ my hips chase his fingers. “We should go-“ I whine into his neck as he slips his fingers in. 

“No one will know.” he whispers into my ear before bringing his lips to my neck. “Do you want me to stop?” he slips his fingers back out and looks down to me with blown pupils. I capture his lips as we continue to press into one another. 

“Let’s get another drink.” I pull him to the main bar. He watches me with a smile as I down my drink and disappear back into the crowd. I slip through the bodies feeling the music flow through me. The drinks have warmed me and I have a smile plastered on my face as I dance alone. I feel hands skim against my waist and I turn quickly and see Aegon. I keep my back to him and continue with my movements. 

“Why are you dancing alone?” he purrs in my ear as I push back into him. 

“Because my boyfriend doesn’t wanna make me feel good so I came to find someone else who could.” Aegons hands grip me and turn me to face him. 

“Let me bring you home tonight.” he looks to me with dark eyes. 

“We’ll see.” I grin up to him. He grabs my wrist tightly and begins to pull me through the crowd. He starts towards our table and we collapse onto the couch together.

“I’m ordering a car to bring us home.” he looks at me as I drape myself across him while he pulls out his phone.

“Why?” I lick across his neck as his fingers swipe across the screen. He groans as I nip at him playfully. He shoves his phone back in his pocket. 

“So I can fuck you.” he pulls me onto his lap and smashes his lips into mine. “The car will be here in fifteen minutes.” he mumbles against my lips. We stay wrapped up in one another for a couple more minutes before we detach. He brings us out front and the car pulls up shortly after. Once we’re back home he’s pushing me against the elevator walls and dipping his fingers into me. 

“Fuck,” I cling against him. I’m squeezing around his fingers when the elevator stops on our floor. I whine as his fingers slip out and he pulls us up to our bed. He tears off my dress and pushes me back onto the bed. I fall back with a giggle as he starts to crawl over me. I gasp as he slips my hands into the restraints. 

“Watch yourself come for me.” he purrs before licking across my neck. His fingers slip back into me and I cry out as he bites down on my neck. His fingers start a brutal pace and arch my chest up into him. I watch as my legs shake on either side of him while he pulls pleasure from me. He kisses down my chest and takes his time before circling his tongue around my throbbing bud. 

“Please, Aegon,” I cry pushing my hips up. His fingers curl as they slam into me and moans pour from my mouth. He laps against me and my pleasure washes through me. “Fuck me,” I pant. “I need you in me.” my hips jolt as he starts swirling around my bud once more. His fingers continue to slam into me as he pulls up to look at me. 

“In a bit.” he hums before dipping back down. I grind against him as he stays between my thighs. Tears spill over the edge as he continues to pull pleasure from me. I’m shaking beneath him as he stays firmly settled. 

“Aegon,” I sob as my body goes taught and he finally pulls back with a wet face. “Untie me,” I sigh as he releases me and I start to pull off his shirt. He chuckles as I try to push his pants down and he sits up to kick them the rest of the way off. He crawls back over me and captures my lips. I pull him closer as he slides in. 

“Fuck my perfect girl.” he groans into my mouth as he rocks into me. I wrap my legs around his waist holding him closer as we move with one another. The kiss we share is blinding as we move together. I find my release again as he spills his pleasure in me. 

“I love you so much my good boy.” I keep him pressed against me as he pants above me. 

“Marry me then.” he rests his forehead against mine. 

“Aegon,” I let out a breathy chuckle. 

“I’m serious. Let’s go to the courthouse in the morning.” he rolls us to the side and searches my eyes. 

“Ask me again in the morning.” I hum pressing my lips against his before we drift off. 

                                       ᓚᘏᗢ

I bring my hand up to bat whatever is tickling my neck away until I realize it’s Aegon. I hum and bury my fingers in his hair. He rolls the rest of the way on top of me and I hold him closer as he peppers kisses across my neck and my chest. He sucks a nipple into his mouth and I gasp pushing myself up into his mouth. His teeth sink into my flesh and I whine above him tugging his hair. He continues his journey down my navel and trails his tongue along my hips before pressing a kiss to my bud. 

“Aegon,” I shutter above him. His tongue languidly trails through me as I squirm beneath him. Small gasps and whimpers fall from my mouth as my hips grind against his face. He takes his time coaxing pleasure out of me before my high spreads across his mouth. He starts to kiss back up my body and I writhe under his touch. 

“Marry me.” he murmurs over and over as he makes his way back up to my lips. 

“Aegon,” I chuckle holding him closer. 

“You said to ask you in the morning.” he presses his lips against mine before pulling up and searching my eyes.

“Ask me again in a week.” he groans at my words. 

“Why?” he whines burying his head into the crook of my neck. 

“So when I say yes you’ll have flights and hotels booked so we can leave after the courthouse.” he snaps his head up and looks down to me. 

“So you’re saying yes?” he pulls me up with a grin. 

“I’m saying get everything together and show me and then we’ll see.” I smile at him and he’s untangling from the bed. 

“No you said ‘when I say yes’ so..” he trails off digging around our room for his phone. 

“You still have to ask me again in a week and get me a ring and book-“ 

“We have to get the ring. I’ll plan everything else but your ring is for you.” I smile at his words as he pulls me out of the bed. 

ততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততত

“Marry me.” Aegon has asked me this every morning for the past five days and I always answer the same. 

“Do you have everything ready for us?” I smile across the table at him. 

“I do.” he nods looking at me expectantly. My heart swells that it’s finally time. “Marry me, please.” his words soft as he gets up and walks around the table and grabs my hands. 

“Of course I’ll marry you, Aegon.” he pulls me to my feet and smashes his lips to mine. “When?” I mumble against his lips. 

“Now.” he pulls back and starts hauling me to the elevator. 

“Let me get dressed.” I giggle pulling him back up the stairs with me. I pull on a dress and he’s sitting on the edge of the bed fidgeting watching me slowly walk around. “Do you have our bags packed or are we coming back?” I glance at him in the mirror. 

“Our bags are in the car.” he stands hovering behind me. “Are you done?” he looks down at me. 

“Who’s taking care of the cats?” I hum fixing my eyebrows. 

“I’m texting our mothers when we get on the plane.” he sits on the bench next to me exhaling loudly. 

“Why are you so nervous, sweet boy?” I turn to him. 

“I don’t want you to change your mind.” he chews on his lip. 

“I won’t.” I place a kiss on his cheek before finishing up. “Let's go say goodbye to our children.” I smile extending my hand to him. We walk into the cat’s room and shower them with love. I see that he has everything placed out for our mothers to use while we’re away. 

“The next time we come home we’ll be married.” Aegon smiles pulling me against him in the elevator. The ride to the courthouse is quick and he turns to me once we park. “You’re sure?” he searches my eyes. 

“Yes.” I nod my head quickly. “Are you sure?” I tilt my head. 

“I’m the most sure.” he smiles and gets out of the car and soon we’re making it up the steps. We’re brought into a small office and look across the desk at the tired man. He explains the paperwork to us and shows us where to sign. He’s completely lackluster about the situation but we couldn’t care less. Our legs are pressed to each other and we hold hands completely giddy. We sign the paperwork and turn to one another once the man deems it official. Our lips press to one another for a little too long until the man is clearing his throat. 

“Let’s go.” Aegon smiles against my lips and grabs the paperwork before tugging us back outside to the car. “My beautiful, amazing wife.” he presses his lips against mine again before opening my door for me so I can get in. 

“Thank you, husband.” I look up to him before he shuts the door. He drives us to their airport and refuses to tell me any details no matter how much I plead. Right before we board the plane he sends out a text to our mothers and we turn our phones off. 

ততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততত

masterlist 🔌 

i literally have no timeline for this fic and ive just been going with the flow so we’ll just see where this goes 🫣

Part 7

taglist ✍️

@clarityisnofun @gabriella-aesthetic @callsignwidow @llynx7 @violetiss3lfish @ka1afbr @akiko-oo @papichulo120627 @lizzylovebooks280501 @thatgirl101blog @ashovertheriver @zanygot7straykidsbonk @hueanhdang @malfoycassimalfoy @april-notthemonth69 @anaviieiraaa @p45510n4f4shi0n @neocockthotology @thereaderwitch @hardkiddonut @faenyra @hiimava11 @daintylittlesunflower @primroseluna @fiction-fanfic-reader @povofjustme

[ladykailitha]

Not All That Glitters is Gold Part 6

Hey, all! This story is finally picking up and we meet Eddie for the first time.

This is an extra long chapter because I wanted to have the gala all in one chapter instead of splitting it up.

@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

****

Steve woke up to his best friend having planned the perfect date with Vickie. Today was already looking up.

“I told you she would say yes,” he told Robin smugly as he poured himself some orange juice.

Robin waved her hand dismissively. “Yeah, yeah. Mr Smarty Pants over there.”

Steve wiggled his ass at her and then sat down on the sofa next to her.

“So what’s on my schedule for next week?’

Robin pulled up his schedule again and hummed. “Looks like all you have is next Saturday; a charity gala for the arts on the arm of Senator Derek Lombard.”

“He’s always nice,” Steve said. “A little hard of hearing most of the time, but always just wants someone pretty to hang off his every word.”

“So an easy night for you then,” Robin said.

He hummed his agreement. “So what’s all that the event is about? Can I use it to network? Or will it be all politicians with sticks up their asses?”

Robin pulled up the event on her tablet. “Looks like it’s a fundraiser for putting music in poor neighborhoods as a way to combat gang joining and shit like that.”

Steve sighed. “Sounds like my worst nightmare. Classical music sounds like noise to me most of the time. It always puts me to sleep.”

“Then you’ll like this,” she said, scrolling through the list of guests. “The charity is the pet project of Corroded Coffin frontman, Eddie Munson. Apparently he was ‘trailer trash’, his words, and got out of the slums through the power of metal and rock music.”

Steve straightened up. “Shit. Is that that band that Dustin loves?”

Robin tapped something on her tablet and scrolled a bit. “Yep!” she chirped happily. “He is going to be so jealous when he hears you might get to meet him.”

He ran his tongue over his top row of teeth thoughtfully. “Yeah, okay. This sounding more interesting.” He tapped his lips. “If it’s his charity then it will likely have younger alphas there that I can network and get on my client list.”

“Yeah,” Robin agreed. “Especially rockstars. They tend to just hop in bed with any willing omega or beta if an omega can’t be found to service their ruts.”

Steve licked his lips. “Bring over a small stack of business cards to take with me. Also does Senator Lombard have a style of clothes he wants me to wear?”

Robin skipped back to his schedule and pulled up the appointment. “Uh... it looks like he doesn’t have a preference just something ‘elegant’.”

“You thinking what I’m thinking?” Steve asked with a glimmer in his eye.

“If I am you might need to keep some heart medication on standby,” she said with glee.

“Oh good,” he grinned. “We are thinking of the same thing, then.”

****

Steve didn’t often wear dresses because he hated playing into the stereotype of male omegas being the women of the secondary genders. But this was his favorite outfit bar none.

It was a backless gold dress with a low cut front in a drape that showed off his bare chest. He kept himself as shaven as he was in high school on the swim team. Something that Tommy mocked him mercilessly for. But it made getting in and out of clothes easier, so Tommy could suck it.

The dress went all the way to his ankles and was split up the middle of each leg to show off his toned thighs. He wore jeweled open-toed kitten heels with a Grecian style strap down the middle. He wore a bangle on his left wrist and a charm bracelet on his right. The necklace and earrings matched, a wide gold setting with a single diamond in the center. And then to crown the whole thing off, he had diamonds glued to the strands of his hair so when he moved the light would catch the diamond and shimmer just so.

Senator Lombard was speechless when Steve walked down to the lobby of the hotel he was picked up from. Again for his safety that no one knew where he lived.

In his hand was matching gold clutch and over his shoulders in liquid waves a shimmering gold shawl.

“I am the luckiest man tonight,” Senator Lombard whispered as he took Steve’s open hand to guide him the rest of the way down the stairs.

“You flatter me, Senator,” Steve replied demurely looking up at the alpha through his eyelashes.

“And you honor me with your presence.”

Steve blushed and allowed himself to be led out to the waiting limo.

****

Senator Lombard was the talk and envy of a lot of people at the gala. Women hated the way Steve looked better in his dress then they did in theirs. The men were seething jealousy that Steve wasn’t on their arm.

The senator was a distinguished older gentleman of the old style of politics. Calm and collected in public, a conniving, calculated negotiator behind closed doors.

And he showed that strength here. Everyone was tripping over themselves to introduce themselves to him just for the pleasure of being in Steve’s company.

They had to know how Senator Lombard could afford such beauty and grace, so much so that Steve had run out of business cards before the appetizer was even brought out.

The only ones that stayed on the outskirts of Senator Lombard’s aura of influence was the members of Corroded Coffin.

They were dressed like the rockers they were. Lots of black clothes, jewelry, and eyeliner. Their tattoos and piercing further pushed them outside of the rest of the people at the gala.

People who despite being invited by the band were giving them a wide berth. Which was ridiculous in Steve’s opinion. One thing you must never be: is rude to the host.

Steve broke off from the senator and turned to make his way toward his hosts when there was gentle tap on his shoulder.

He turned around to see the prettiest of the band standing in front of him. He had long dark curls, deep soulful brown eyes, and dimples for days. Steve was smitten.

“You dropped this,” the man said, holding out his hand.

Steve opened his hand and a diamond dropped into it. He tucked his clutch under his arm and touched his hair. Sure enough one of his diamonds was missing.

“Thank you!” Steve cooed. “I don’t want to lose that!”

The man smiled and the dimples became more pronounced and Steve was close to swooning.

“I’m Eddie,” he said. “Eddie Munson. And who might you be, darlin’?”

Steve blushed. “Steve Harrington.”

Eddie’s eyebrows twitched upward. “A Starcourt escort in my house. I’m honored.”

Steve looked around the large foyer. “This is your place? It’s beautiful.”

Eddie smiled deeper. “Thank you. Now where were you off to just now?”

Steve giggled. “On my way to see you, actually. I’m not a fan of people being rude to the hosts. Regardless of who the hosts are.”

“Even if you disagree with their beliefs?” Eddie asked, a glint of mischief in his eye.

“I don’t go to those,” Steve replied with a wink.

Eddie’s eyebrows went up. “I wasn’t aware you had that much control over your clientele.”

“Maybe not to start with,” he said with a shrug. “But as one of my friends pointed out recently, when you’re one of the top ten paid escorts you have a lot more leeway.”

Eddie blinked those long eyelashes and Steve was captivated. “That’s fair. And you deemed my little shindig as worthy? I’m doubly honored then.”

“Well...” Steve murmured tilting his head to the side thoughtfully, “more like my handler, Robin. But she knows what I like.”

“And you like heavy metal?” Eddie asked, amused.

“More like good causes and deserving people.”

A waiter passed by and Eddie grabbed two champagne glasses from the man’s tray. He held one out to Steve.

“Oh,” he murmured. His hands were occupied. He hurried to put the diamond into his clutch and tucked the clutch back under his arm. He then took the drink. “Thank you.”

“That dress suits you,” Eddie said, licking his lips slowly.

Steve ducked his head a blushed. “Thank you. It’s my favorite dress.”

Eddie smirked. “I didn’t know you were allowed to wear the same outfit more than once.”

Steve threw back his head and laughed. “Not normally, no. But the key is to change up the accessories and chose a different setting. The last time I wore this dress was for dinner with a client. Some quiet upscale restaurant where privacy is key.”

Eddie looked up and down Steve’s body. “You certainly fill it well.”

Steve smiled. “It’s more fun to get out of.”

Eddie nearly choked as he was taking a drink of champagne when Steve said that. Steve rubbed his back soothingly as if he wasn’t the one that caused the distress in the first place.

Steve tapped the back of his neck. “There’s a little clasp right here. Just unhook and dress just slides right off.”

Eddie’s eyes went wide and Steve could tell he was imagining it.

“Escorts are great for all sorts of things. Dinner with family you want to impress. Casual conversations and movies nights for the rich and the lonely. Arm candy for charity events like this one. Not all my clients are in it for the sex.” Steve patted Eddie’s arm and then down the rest of his champagne. He put his glass on the tray of a passing waiter and went back to Senator Lombard with a cheerful wave over his shoulder.

****

Jeff came up and clamped a hand on Eddie’s shoulder. “That was the most embarrassing display I’ve ever seen. If this was a Looney Tune, your tongue would be dragging on the floor, man.”

Eddie pushed his friend playfully. “Shut it, Jeffey.”

“No, seriously, man,” Jeff said. “I haven’t seen you get that tongue tied with someone you were interested in since we got our first record deal.”

Eddie sighed. “I really should have known better than to come to a gun fight with a knife.”

Jeff laughed. “Yeah, man. Escorts are trained socializers. You didn’t have a chance.”

“I don’t think I’ve seen anymore beautiful then him in my life,” Eddie murmured. “And I’ve dated rock goddesses, super models, and A-list actors and actresses.”

Jeff hummed. “He’s certainly something, that’s for sure.”

“God,” Eddie huffed. “He even gave an in with hiring his services if I wanted and all I could do was stare at him slack jawed and stupid.”

Jeff pulled out his phone and began scrolling through it. “Well according to Starcourt’s website they offer all sorts of services. Gang bangs, threesomes, roleplays, rut servicing. You could throw a dart at a dartboard and each section would be a different service they offer.”

Eddie bit his lip. “Fuck, there is no way they’d let him service my ruts. I’m a blocker buster.”

Jeff winced. “Yeeeaaah. The last time you spent your rut with someone, they went into heat almost immediately. A fun time to be had, sure. But that guy could have gotten pregnant and you would have been on the hook for life.”

Eddie grimaced. “It wasn’t that fun if I’m honest.”

“They would absolutely whisk him away the second he even scented wrong.”

He nodded. “Looks like all I can do is dream and maybe beg to see if they’ll let me take him out to dinner.”

Jeff just shook his head. His friend was hopeless.

****

To say Steve felt smug would be an understatement. Not only did his little interaction with Eddie Munson fluster the alpha, but it spurred on everyone else to stop treating their hosts like they had the plague.

Suddenly there was a sea between him and Eddie and for now that was fine. It had been a long time since an alpha’s scent overwhelmed his senses.

Eddie’s scent was warm like cardamon and cinnamon. Like a hot drink on a cold winter’s day. Steve felt engulfed by it. It took every ounce of will power and training not drop to his knees right then and there. His actual client be damned.

But he managed to remain on his feet and walk away without Eddie knowing how close Steve had come to breaking his composure.

Senator Lombard kept a hand on Steve’s waist after that. Steve was sure he could smell the way Steve’s scent when he came back was strong and wild.

The senator didn’t know who had caused Steve’s scent to react that way, but he wasn’t going to take any chances that Steve might be swept off his feet.

Steve spent a good portion of the rest of the night, rubbing his nose along Senator Lombard’s scent gland to calm him down. Every time Steve would laugh at another alpha’s joke or talk a little too cheerfully to another omega, the senator’s scent would turn sour and bitter. And Steve would have to start the soothing process all over again.

It was starting to get annoying and Steve was seriously thinking of putting the alpha on his black list for it. The fact that Steve came back should have been all the assurance the alpha needed that whoever had got Steve hot under the collar that they weren’t enough to keep his interest. But no. Steve was beginning to suspect that he was just a bitter old man.

Steve was given a moment’s reprieve when the senator was pulled aside by another senator that wanted to talk about co-sponsoring a bill on the Hill.

“God,” the omega woman Steve was talking to said. “I couldn’t imagine doing what you do. The heavy duty scent blockers, the spending your heats alone, the birth control. God the birth control alone must cost a fortune.”

Steve gave an awkward laugh. “Um, no. Omegas at Starcourt are infertile. They have to be, not just for the protection of the omega but for the alpha clients, too. Can’t have an escort blackmailing important alphas that their pup might be theirs.”

The woman pouted. “That’s so sad. Have you thought about adopting?”

Steve’s smile stayed on his face, but inside he died just a little. “I’d have to find an alpha willing to bond me first.” He said it teasingly, but he knew it was hopeless.

“A pretty thing like you?” the woman cooed. “The right alpha willing be baying for the chance to sweep you off your feet. Just give it a couple of years. You’re still in your prime. Enjoy it!”

Steve’s smile slid into something more real. He was grateful that she didn’t pity him and told him he still had time. Because she was right it. He did have time. There was no need to rush off and get bonded. He had the glittering lights, the fancy clothes, and rich food to enjoy while he was still young.

Too soon the senator had returned and pulled him away from the omega. Steve waved at her and smiled. He would later learn that she was Representative Jim Hopper’s second omega, Joyce Byers. Jonathan’s mom.

That made the encounter all the more wholesome.

****

As Steve was pulled away he didn’t notice Eddie behind him frowning.

“Hey, Gareth,” Eddie said. “You got to talk with the senator’s date, right?”

Gareth rolled his eyes. “Yes, I got to talk to your crush.”

Eddie flapped his hands at him. “Shush. But how would you describe his scent?”

Gareth frowned. “I don’t know. Spicy I guess. Like Mexican hot chocolate. Why?”

“You brought an escort to the Grammy’s last year,” Eddie continued, never taking his eyes off Steve. “How would you have described her scent?”

Gareth’s frown deepened between his brows as he fought to remember. “Fruity, I guess. Sweet. Almost too sweet.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” Gareth pressed.

Eddie just pressed his lips together.

“You know,” Gareth said into the resulting silence. “I would say his scent complements yours.”

Eddie crossed his arms over his chest and looked down. He could only agree.

Something didn’t feel right and he was determined to find out what it was about Steve Harrington that got under his skin the way it did.

****

Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @chaoticlovingdreamer @lexirosewrites @goodolefashionedloverboi @messrs-weasley @maya-custodios-dionach @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @bookworm0690 @bookbinderbitch @littlewildflowerkitten @vecnuthy @scheodingers-muppet @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @genderless-spoon @yikes-a-bee @anne-bennett-cosplayer @awkwardgravity1 @irregular-child @nburkhardt @apomaro-mellow @yellowdevilkitten @eyehartart @mangoinacan13 @ellietheasexylibrarian @rememberthatiloveyou @demolvr @y4r3luv @slowandsteddie @r0binscript

[voidcat]

i. welcome to summoners rift

characters: narumi gen, gn!reader

a/n: the game i had in mind while writing this is league of legends.. boo i know. anyways i tried to keep the LoL terms down so itll be easier to understand. reader is implied to be a part of first division- part time operations leader but more involved in data collecting and medical side of things, (I’ll decide fully later)

. i need to make this pathetic loser suffer in games so bad its not even funny anymore... first of many more fics to come im afraid

The first few times to play it safe and because it’s what you’re used to, you take a generic support class— Seraphine got crowd control, enough damaging spells to trigger a DoT or do some extra last minute damage, provides shield, speed and health.

A well balanced support and pretty, Narumi cannot help but think as the Seraphine on his screen hits ctrl+3 and dances for the third time while waiting for the opposing team to make a move. You seem to know what you’re doing, you placed wards, dance when it seems idle but keeping your attention enough to cut it when you suspected an ambush few times. Plus it’s one of the most recent skins you got for the champ so he knows you know how to play the champion, despite your low score on her-

After all, not everyone has been playing this damn game for 5 to 10 years now, a newbie is no problem as long as they know how to play and show it. You leave the minions to him, heal him at critical moments the enemies thought he was dying so he can attack back and get them one by one— you’re good, and you’re especially good with him.

By the time the entire team gathers on the same lane, pushing to the opposing team’s base, you send your ult at the perfect moment, charming four enemies at once and creating the dream situation of any player.

Well, the rest of your team slowly dies because of heavy damage over time they took but it’s alright. The screen says in big letters: PENTA KILL! With his champion icon right under it, and in the game chat even the opposing team congratulates him, saying it was insane game play.

Then Narumi hears that same melody since the beginning of the game whenever you hit the dance animation and a new message in the game chat:

> victory dance for that lovely penta ( *｀ω´)

Reading the message, he watches your champion dance with his eyes glued to the screen, heat rising up to his face… absolutely adorable is what it is. Standing there with his champion, he then hits ctrl+3 as well to join you on the dance, letting the minions carry on.

The game is about to end, the opposing team begs in the chat to not end, to keep playing, meanwhile his team makes some jokes referencing early minutes of the match. Then at the last second, Narumi quickly types in and hits send.

The chat box reads: ‘support diff’

Before queuing up for another game, his hand acts on impulse and invites you to the lobby.

And to his surprise, you accept!

The sound of message notifications reaches his ears short after and he quickly reads over.

>awww >seems like someone enjoyed my presence;P

Adorable and cheeky, this just might be his best in game interactions by far. without a word, he queues up another game and another, the night goes on.

messages from you in-game keep on coming, at one point he thinks to himself "what he hell is a fryslan bop" to which you just send a keyboard smash followed by a "its a song lol"

so you are a chatter, he gathers quickly. not often but when you do, you send in a lot. he soon catches up to when you're actually talking versus spamming a song's lyrics while having Seraphine dance in your stead.

until you cancel the queue start up and send a message.

>gotta go >its late >booo >we jst got started >work tmr sry T-T

with a sigh, he watches as you leave and tries playing another match, but for some reason during the entirety of the match, he has no fun.

when you log into your game accounts in the evening, relieved to have an easy day, you notice a few friend request. "kaijuslayer"

you click accept and before you can open another tab, you instantly receive a lobby invite. its unreal how quick this person is... and how much he enjoys gaming, apparently. with no plans for the night and no desire to do anything else, you accept the invite.

Narumi is over the clouds to see not only has his request being accepted but also his invite too. gaming is more fun when you are winning, and thus playing with people who know what they're doing. you pick the same champion again and accomodate to his various picks, supporting him however he needs. it's perfect, it's distracting. while the two of you wait for the client to find another match, you begin to talk. since it's a friday, he tries his shot and asks if you'll stay for longer this time.

>nah >my v much serious v grownup job has saturdays too >and awfully early waking hours >sucks to b u> v serious v grownup huh >yea? >im starting to suspect u might b a child >OLIFSDJFIGOJSDOLŞGJSDFOLŞG >the calls coming from inside the house

before Narumi can send a reply, the 'match found' screen pops up and the two of you leave it there.

the match starts off smooth. he's farming a good amount, the two of you reached level 6 before the others, and as the opposing lane tries an ambush, you hit them with your ult, charming them in the process. as narumi begins to unleash his combo, your slowing down waves slither there gently, quitely. then follows your shield and speed buff, and right before his very eyes, your now-powered-up-double skill hits the enemies and the screen reads: "TRIPLE KILL" with your icon next to it.

as much of an ideal support as Seraphine is, Narumi remembers the fact all too painfully that Seraphine was first released as a midlaner... a very much capable AP damage unit if built that way. a part of wants to see, and a part of him is afraid of what he might see if he goes to check which items you have purchased- or if it was a brilliant calculation by itself.

as Narumi stares at the screen, Seraphine dances again, sometimes ending the animation to go around him. seeing him frozen for far too long, you ping him few times. as if his misery, and his kills stolen wasnt bad enough already, your team's jungle has the audacity to send a message to in-game chat. 'supp diff'’

complimenting his support? his duo? Narumi begins to see red.

as you begin to teleport back to the base, you send an emote of one of the characters, tongue poking out, winking and doing a peace sign.

and on his side of things, narumi gen cannot find it in him to stay mad at the turn of events- because just look how endearing and cute you are! it's alright if you took a kill or two by accident, you're still his support, his duo after all!

despite the... technical errors, the game ends in another victory and with you doing a victory dance again, now pinging him if he's staying idle until he joins you as well. his heart cannot take it. it's too much... and as if you are dead set on being the final blow, you send cute emotes, and whenever he sends one back, you reply with another, it goes and goes until the matches end.

a flood of message notification sounds brings him back to earth again.

>heeeey >r u gonna start the queue some time this year? >oh btw pick a color

puzzled at the last message, he says a color, not expecting much out of it. until he sees you have picked another skin with the chroma he said. candy and teeth- you are so adorable and charming, so bad for his poor health. waiting in your lane, you begin the dancing animation again and narumi grins at the screen, watching you dance.

oh no, this is bad. this is pathetic even for him now... he cannot be possibly finding some gamer maybe across the country, someone he never saw nor even heard the voice of charming...

maybe that annoying part time operations leader was right about his... pent up frustration... if he's this down for a game model supposedly representing a person, maybe you had a point when you implied he goes to seek some action and revive himself of whatever's been building up down there.

there is no way he can let anyone learn about this- worst of all, you. with your stoic face and condescending eyes, you'd never let him live that down.

Him! Narumi Gen! the first division captain and the strongest anti-kaiju combatant! he'd rather die than give you the satisfaction of knowing he's so desperate to get some sort of friction he's starting to mix an online person with the character they're playing.

aggressive pings snap him out of his running thoughts and he realizes he's a little behind game-play wise.

now, looking over at the match stats, it doesn't seem all to unsalvageable. he better get to it, there's a match to win and a lovely duo to impress.

[carmesi-butterfly]

I would like to request thoughts on first boyfriend Yujin, him being so sweet, shy and scared to meet his gf’s paterents🥹but they live him, it’s like their son

I MELT JUST IMAGINING IT 😭 this is my first time writing about yujin so im sorry if it didn't turn out good t__t

yujin would be so nervous :( being completely quiet, if it wasn't because he was sitting beside you on the table, and because YOU BROUGHT HIM TO YOUR HOUSE you would probably not know he's there, try to find the 5 differences between han yujin and a statue!!

your parents found him so cute from the start <3 when he presented himself on the doorstep as soon as he arrived.

“hello mr, mrs…” said softly, feeling so small and cornered in his spot made him forget what else he could say ㅠㅠ your parents’ faces brought him back to reality and that's when he noticed the lack of information in his presentation, poor yujin was so ashamed, his first impression to his girlfriend’s parents was completely ruined! but no, he's gonna overcome this situation. yujin is not letting himself look like an idiot in front of his in-laws. “i’m han yujin, your daughter’s boyfriend, it's a pleasure to meet you” finished the sentence with a tiny smile, making your parents feel cuteness overload, you could feel your mother melting only by your boyfriend’s presence.

“it's a pleasure to meet you too, yujin!” the grown woman said with a warm smile, welcoming her son-in-law into her home.

“i’m glad we finally had the opportunity to meet our princess boyfriend,” added your father, giving your partner a few pats on the shoulder.

“sweetie, please bring him to the table! your father and i will be bringing the food” with this request both your parents left you two alone in the lobby and went to the kitchen.

“see? i told you everything would be fine” your words were accompanied by small jumps of happiness, and your hands searched to hold his in an attempt of comfort <3 you could feel your boyfie’s nerves over this important moment, it was so cute…

“i almost ruined it,” said in an undertone, his gaze down to your hands interlacing your fingers together.

“you didn't ruin anything, don't be silly” your commentary made him smile, “okay, let's go to the dining room”

with enthusiastic words, you dragged yujin to the dining table, and now we're back to the present where he was TENSE and it was obvious to everyone, he always replied to every question your parents did, not as an interrogatory! they just want to know the pretty boy you brought home :3 but it was clear that his anxiety and nerves were still there, so your mom pulled the super move!!

“i’m so happy to know that a boy like yujin is my daughter's boyfriend! as parents, we sometimes were scared that she might end up crossing with the wrong people. but now that you were introduced to us, i’m glad to say that i have nothing to worry about” confessed happily your mom.

your dad nodded cheerily, “where did you find a guy like this?” joked adding some fun to the dinner and making the minors laugh.

those words succeed in the task of relaxing the child han yujin! your mother's sweetness mixed with your father’s funny comments made a comfortable and relaxing environment for the young boy who now felt like part of your family ㅠㅠ <3 of course, it would take more time for him to get used to this new dynamic in your relationship, but with such lovely in-laws, it wouldn't be that hard :D

[hornyfor-redacted-onmain]

Perfect Surprise

Pieces of My Heart - Chapter 2 Stray Kids OT8 x reader, Soulmate AU

Masterlist | Next Part

A sharp ringing noise brought you out of your little pocket of comfort. Jeongin pulled away just enough to grab his phone out and he answered immediately, one arm still holding onto you. You heard someone ask something from the other end, mostly likely a ‘where are you’ if you heard right, and Jeongin started babbling away in Korean to whoever was on the other end, no doubt filling them in at the events of the past few minutes.

Or, as a quick check of your phone informed you, the past 20 minutes. You hadn’t even been aware at the passing of time, most likely the hugs you had let yourself get lost in.

Suddenly you weren’t so judgmental of the dopey smiles and love drunk actions of tv or movie characters after they met their soulmates because you were sure you sported a stupid smile of your own right now.

You pulled away from Jeongin, reassuringly patting his arm as he suddenly reacted to your actions. You grabbed your now cold and long forgotten drinks and headed over to a trash can you had spotted, skipping back over to him. It seemed like he had finished his conversation, and he was practically vibrating with energy.

“I have to go back,”  he explained, pausing as he considered his words. “Do you …want come with me?”

You bit your lip. “To meet the others?”

He nodded, and you swallowed at the thought. Meeting your soulmate was one thing, it put you on the same level. But meeting the rest of Stray Kids? At this point they were still your idols, and even being the soulmate of one of them didn’t change how much you were fangirling at this once in a lifetime opportunity.

Although, it wasn’t a once in a lifetime opportunity, was it?

You reached out to grab Jeongin’s hand, and he let you so easily that you were suddenly hit with the realization that this man was your soulmate. Someone who would be your best friend, a constant source of comfort, the yin to your yang, possibly even a future lover.

You were going to meet the rest of Stray Kids one way or another. Why not now?

Later on, you might regret your decision, but in the moment the dopamine from meeting your soulmate gave you the confidence you needed to nod your head enthusiastically, letting out a laugh as Jeongin eagerly pulled you along with him. You continued to laugh even harder as you realized you were heading in the direction of your hotel, wondering just how long fate had been spinning its web to get you two to meet.

Your amusement sobered up pretty quickly as you reached the lobby, Jeongin letting go of your hand to pull his cap down farther as he hurried to the elevators. The red string that tied you two together still followed him as he moved, the color somehow shining brighter than before.

And 5 similar red strings curled around each other as they left your chest, shooting straight up into the ceiling.

For a second you hesitated, taking a few steps around in random directions just to be sure, but they were definitely pointing up into the floors above you. Jeongin noticed your sudden hesitation, returning to your side with a questioning look.

“Okay?”

You nodded and forced your eyes away from the other 5 strings. The other 5 of your soulmates are currently residing in the very hotel you were in.

What were the odds?

“My soulmate bond, it’s red strings. You aren’t the only one I have,” You explained to Jeongin as you both entered the elevator. “The others are here too.”

He nodded his head in understanding. “How many?”

“In total? 8, including you.”

And at the look he gave you, you let yourself accept the reality that you had slowly been realizing all along.

What were the odds?

When you arrived at the 6th floor, you didn’t even wait for Jeongin to lead you. You followed the red strings that all resided on the same floor, stopping at the first door that a string disappeared into. One look back at your soulmate confirmed your suspicions, and he let out a laugh of disbelief.

“Wow, this is …“ He said something else in Korean before repeating a ‘wow’.

You moved along the corridor, pointing out the next door to the left where two strings were, and then to one door on the right side where the last two strings remained. Jeongin was shaking his head in disbelief, and then he was pulling you back from the doors, into his arms again.

“Don’t meet them. Be my Stay,” He whined, his smile reassuring you that he was somewhat joking.

You weren’t sure when he had taken off his mask, but you were able to actually see his entire face now, and you couldn’t help but stare. His grip on you tightened and his smile turned into a smirk as he realized. You forced yourself to keep his gaze, even as you felt your cheeks begin to heat up.

“I’ll always be yours, Jeongin.”

It was the first time you said his name out loud, and he seemed to like it. He gave you one last squeeze, before he pulled you to the last door in the corridor. This one didn’t have any red strings leading into it, so you weren’t surprised when Jeongin scanned the door open and led you into an empty room. He pulled out his phone and started to text something while you looked around.

There was a still full suitcase that was half zipped up, a hoodie thrown over the chair it resided on. The other suitcase was on the bed, completely open and only slightly disturbed as it seems its owner simply pulled out the clothes on top to use. Jeongin noticed the suitcase and immediately jumped over to grab it, moving it from the bed over to the desk as he apologized in both Korean and English.

“It’s okay,” You reassured him, only sitting down on the bed when he gestured for you to do so. You didn’t want to accidentally sit on another member’s bed without their permission. “Did you tell the others?”

The nerves from before were back, the once peaceful calm you had felt now melting away at the prospect of meeting not only Stray Kids, but your soulmates as well.

Jeongin noticed your anxiety, and he reached over to grab your hand. “I told them to come to my room. Is it okay?”

I didn’t get to answer before there was a knock on the door, a loud voice outside yelling something in Korean. You recognized the voice, and you gave Jeongin a wide-eyed look.

He was uncharacteristically serious as his grip on your hand tightened. “You okay? I- I can tell them leave if you want.”

“Do they know?” You asked again.

He shook his head. “I want it to be … a surprise.”

You stared into his eyes, licking your lips and taking a deep breath. You looked over at the door as the knock came once again, and then back at your soulmate. You gave a small nod.

“I’m okay.”

Jeongin squeezed your hand once and then let go, giving you a reassuring smile. And then he went to open the door.

The hotel room was positioned in such a way that from your spot on the bed you couldn’t see the door, but from the yells earlier you knew it was at least Changbin on the other side. You weren’t quite expecting to see Chan round the corner first, nor were you ready for the smile that lit up his face at the sight of you.

“Oh, hey! You must be Jeongin’s soulmate. It’s so nice to meet you. My name’s Christopher, you can call me Chris.” He held out his hand to shake, but you were a bit hesitant to grab it.

Would he know immediately? Would you have to explain it to him?

His face furrowed in confusion, so you quickly reacted, grabbing his hand. “Chris, right. I know, um, I’m actually kind of a Stay?” You let out a nervous laugh, and then introduced yourself in return.

“Yeah, Jeongin was very happy to point that out. I don’t think I’ve ever heard him that excited,” Chan said, and he glanced down.

You were still shaking his hand.

With a quick apology, you let go and immediately ducked your hand. You wondered if he felt it, the spark, the energy, the same thing you had felt when you had hugged Jeongin for the first time. Or maybe you needed to be closer? Maybe he needed to realize it?

Chan was frowning again when you raised your gaze, his eyes staring deep into yours, but Changbin rounding the corner distracted both of you from your questions.

“Ah, Jeongin’s soulmate!” He didn’t even hesitate to pull you into a hug, and you couldn’t help the squeak that left your mouth as you were pulled off the bed, your feet barely touching the ground from where he dangled in his embrace.

Jeongin said something in an exasperated tone, and Changbin put you down.

“Sorry, sorry. I got too excited,” He said, smiling widely as he gave you a once over. He then turned around and said something in Korean that had both Jeongin and Chan yelling at him, to which he raised his hands in mock defense.

Jeongin must have left the hotel door room open, because there was a yell from out in the hall and suddenly someone was running in, babbling something in Korean. When Han Jisung spotted you, he pointed at you in surprise.

“Ah, it’s true! Jeongin really found his soulmate?!”

“Hey, be quiet. Do you want the whole world to hear?”

And right behind him, were the last two strings on this floor. Felix and Hyunjin both walked in and gave you a bow each, although Felix was quick to bounce past Jisung to pull you into a hug.

“I can’t believe he was the first one to find his soulmate,” he said to the group as a whole, and then whispering in your ear, “I’m glad. He deserves it.”

You were frozen, not just from the sudden appearance of some of the most beautiful men you had ever laid your eyes on, but from the sudden onslaught of emotions that washed over you. The red strings burned your chest, and you couldn’t find your voice, struggling with the happiness and love and excitement that mixed with your past anxiety and nervousness into a bundle of ‘what the fuck’.

And when Felix pulled away in worry at your lack of reaction, his eyes met yours.

The second puzzle piece clicked into place.

He gasped, his grip on your shoulders falling as he stumbled back, his eyes darting around the room before landing on Jeongin. The youngest began to say something, possibly trying to explain, but when he noticed your face, he paused. The others all turned to look at you in confusion as he pushed his way past to get to you, but a hand on your shoulder beat him to it.

“Breathe, sweetheart. Breathe.”

You inhaled so suddenly that your vision went blurry, not having realized you were holding your breath to begin with. Felix started crying, saying something to Jeongin, and you suddenly felt panicked. The hand on your shoulder moved up and placed itself against your cheeks, turning your face, and you were forced to stare into the eyes of Chan.

“Don’t worry about them, okay? Take another deep breath. You’re okay.”

The third puzzle piece slid into place slowly, like the hands that from your shoulders, down your arms, and squeezed your hands. Jeongin was apologizing, Felix was apologizing back, meanwhile Changbin, Hyunjin and Jisung were asking questions and looked confused. But Chan was calm, helping you catch you breath.

Jeongin kneeled down in front of you, next to Chan, and he gave your knee a squeeze. “I’m sorry. This was too much.”

Felix pushed past the two of them and practically tackled you with his hug, his face burrowing into your neck as he let out a sniffle. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I don’t want to steal you away from him.”

You let out a laugh, your own eyes welling up with tears. “Please don’t apologize. You’re not stealing me away from anyone. It’s not your fault.”

“Ah, please don’t cry. I can’t stand it when people cry.”

“You’re crying too!”

“It’s normal to cry when you meet your soulmate!” Felix argued.

There was a gasp from one of the remaining three who were still standing off to the side. You looked over and gave them a hesitant smile.

“Surprise?”

[sinner-sunflower]

A HH Lucifer-centric AU 15/?

PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8, PART 9, PART 10, PART 11, PART 12, PART 13, PART 14, PART 16, PART 17, PART 18, PART 19, PART 20, PART 21, PART 22

hooo weee this is a long one. A reaction chapter part 1

A few things to clear up:

Sir Pentious is in Heaven

They do not know that yet.

He'll have a part in the sequel!

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

Charlie is beyond worried.

She and the entirety of Pride sat in anticipation as Hell's highest powers perform the ritual again. Her dad disappeared a month ago and in his absence, she thinks she had handled Pride rather well. Vaggie and her friends were a big help though, as well as her uncles and aunts if they could.

Charlie has not missed once broadcast ever since it aired. Every time she looks for her dad among the demons and every time she's disappointed.

She keeps watching anyway in support- no matter how busy she was. The hotel residents do the same, dropping what they were doing to all sit in the couch together and watch this 'til it ended. The first time it aired created a mass panic that Charlie had to induce a Hellshake to placate her people. It somehow worked.

After the panic, it became the biggest hit "show" in Pride, resulting in the production of legit merch and even a few parodies- like it's just a game, like this can't kill them all.

That craze lasted almost 2 weeks but even the fanatics stopped watching when it was apparent that this wasn't a quick fix. Panic again then calm then panic- over and over and over again.

Vaggie: Babe?

Charlie: Hey, Vaggie.

Charlie tried to give her lover her usual smiles but she thinks she haven't given one ever since her dad left. Worry and guilt are eating her whole and she's just trying to stay afloat.

Vaggie: Hey, come on. What's going on in that pretty head of yours?

Charlie: Flatterer.

Vaggie: Not wrong though. But don't try to change the subject. .. Is it about your dad?

Charlie: I don't think I remember a time in a hundred years when it wasn't. When did it go so wrong, Vaggie? We were so happy when I was a kid..

Something inside the princess whispered her mother's name. She shakes off that thought because there's no way. Her mom and dad loved each other.

'But then why did they split? Why did your mom leave? Why did your dad fall in love with someone again?'

The voices are making a point but there's no chance her dad was going to tell her everything and it's not like her mom is even an option.

When Vaggie told her that Alastor and her dad were something, she tried to think of every moment she saw of her dad and the radio demon together after the hotel was rebuilt. The princess of Hell trusts Alastor but she doesn't know if she can trust him with her dad.

But..

Charlie: Dad is happier.

Vaggie: Huh?

Charlie: Sorry. Was thinking of him and how Alastor is probably helping him come out more than I am.

Vaggie: Hey hey. I know your dad would be devastated if he knew you were thinking that. He loves you and you love him, right?

Charlie: More than anything.

Vaggie: That's my girl. Now why don't we-

Cherri: Holy shit! Guys! The broadcast turned on again!

All of them rushed to the lobby upon hearing the cyclops yell. They thought it was over 30 minutes ago when the nth overlord and Goetia fainted. Guess Vox was a bit afraid he would be next and turned it off to save face.

Angel: Holy shit!

Holy shit indeed. The one on the screen is none other than her dad! And a beautiful lady in white?

Husk: Who the fuck is that?

Nifty: She looks so clean! I wanna know what products she use.

Vaggie: Do you know who that is?

Charlie: Probably who dad was looking for.

Goodie: Such words! Angel, was self-preservation not included when you gave them the fruit of knowledge? Lucifer: Apparently not.

Okay, they clearly missed out on some context because her dad just arrived and he's mad. They watch as Lucifer grabs Velvette's face hard enough to bleed. Everyone is kneeling and seem to be locked in place. Husk eyes Alastor's monstrous form in the background warily.

Husk: Something happened.

Lucifer: I can't blame you. I was not the most present ruler, after all. But I thought I made something very clear when I dealt with that moth man.... I guess one example isn't enough.

One moment Velvette was struggle and the next her fucking jaw is gone!

Angel: Holy shit!

Husk: Ugh! You keep saying that. Don't you have any other words than holy shit?

Angel: 'M sorry, Huskie. But what else am I supposed to say to that huh??

Charlie's winces but her eyes are still glued to the screen as her dad summons his flaming sword and brings it down to the pink demon.

Lucifer: So, let me keep it simple. I'm Lucifer Morningstar. The creator of the first sin. The angel that damned humanity. Í̷̫̈́́͂̒̚̕͝͝͝'̶̨̛̺̤̿̀͒͛̂̿͋̄̑͆́͘͠͝M̴̝̯̖̦͍̽̎̏͆̔ ̴̛̛̄̋̈̑̓̀̓̃̄͐͗ͅŸ̷͇̙̟͈̭̥̬̻̙͔̠̱́̽̊̊ͅÔ̵̤͙͈̬̫̪͕̼͍͌̀̔͜U̴͈̼͖̯̤͌̀̀̓̾̔͆̈́̊͑͗̕͠͝R̵̨̹͍̦͒͌̋͒͆͌̄͛̓͑̔́͜ ̸̝͑̐̀̉̃͠͝F̵̞͖̮̗̗̜̯̯͔̮͒̊͒̈́̈́́̽́̂̂͑̎͝U̵̟̙̱̙̯̤̼̙͈̳̘̫͊̈̀C̷̙̞̔̅̊͌͋K̷̖͙̼̪̠̾̄̅̾͘I̵̛̩̘̜͖̩̙̿̐̽́͊́̒͆̆̎̑͗N̴̤̏̂͝G̸͋̋̍ͅ ̵̡͈̩̹̗̹̝̻̬͍̗̬̲̳̟̍͋̽͛̒̉̍͊͑̑̋̅̽Ḳ̷̡̬͔̞̱̤̬̮͉̙͇̪͛̅͊̚I̵̤͙̪̞̝͔̱͎̜̩̖̺̟͔̙͊Ṉ̵͈̤̘͚̻̙̼̓͂̌͋́̎͜ͅĢ̸̭͔͇̹̹̳̭͋̓̒͗̈́̉̈́̂̚.

They all had to avert their eyes as a giant ball of flame came down to finish Velvette off.

Lucifer: Û̶̪̌͐́̂̆͠͠n̸̛̟͕̱͍̫̘̻̣̱͈͈͇̱̜͛̓͗̏̅̇͋̒͆͊̓͗̚͠d̷̢̢̨̼̙͈̞͈͓͈͙̂̌͋̔̂̉̍̈́͆̿̈́̕͘͜͠e̵̛͍̯̫̼̫̐͛̊̒̆̉̓̊̽̓̒̒̚͘ŗ̶̨̢̧̮̜͙̪̹̯̙̪̤̠̝̓́̒̋͆̆̓̿͐̄̓̕̚̕ş̷̛̮͖̰̝̟͇͕̟̞̳̟̪̥̂̀̈́̈͗́̿̐̔̎̕̕͠t̶̮̖̭̹͓͉̪̣̦͙̖͍́͐͂̑͒̑͂̑̾̓̍̊͝ô̵̥͓̥͐̄̏̀̾̀̽̆ò̴̜͇̣̣̳͖̗̹̟̇̓͑͝ͅd̸̨̨͈͓̠͑͑̒̎̈́͘͠?̸̟̎̈

Even the sinners in the safety of the hotel nodded in fear. Lucifer made a delighted noise and with a clap, Velvette is back in one piece, albeit trembling in Vox's arms.

Lucifer: What? Do you really think I killed her? Sounds counterproductive. We still have a situation at hand and you are no use to me dead. Goodie: Up now! My sister is becoming restless.

Everyone let out a breath they didn't know they were holding. Angel collapsed to Husk's side, when did he even stand up? Nifty didn't move a muscle but her maniacal smile is gone. Cherri started fiddling with an ignited bomb out of nowhere which Angel had to move to throw.

Goodie: Remember, angel, if this fails, you must do what I have told you. Lucifer: Let's start.

Angel: Holy shit.

Holy shit indeed.

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

Part 16 will be the 2nd part of the reaction before Lucifer goes in!

Dk if I will post on Wednesday as it will be my birthday! yayy

[friendly-neighborhood-boricua]

[5] James Takes Liam to School

Summary: The month following your birthday sees you and Liam growing closer with James outside of school, and when you're stressed and in a rush, James offers to help.

Notes: Marauders modern elementary school AU, kindergarten teacher!James Potter x nurse!reader, mom!reader x son!OC (Liam). Last one was really long and this one is kinda just regular length, sorry :/

A/N (26/7/2024): ok I made a small change since I first posted this ... just figured a little Tonks cameo would be fun lol so now Tonks watches Liam before school :)

Previous Part: Liam and James Make You A Birthday Gift Next Part: You Get A Visitor in the ER Series Masterlist here

Okok first lemme explain something really quick

Your apartment building has a lobby sort of thing on the first floor right as you walk in

And this lobby doesn’t really have a ceiling if you know what I mean? Like the building is hollow above the lobby area, and there are like balcony/hallway things inside the building for each floor where you can enter the apartments

(idk if that makes sense but please just bear with me on this one pls)

So you and Liam’s apartment is on the second floor of the building, right above the post boxes for the building

And you, Liam, and James have figured out that James’ apartment is the one right above yours

You’re not 100% sure how you feel about this yet … but so far it’s only brought good things (read: cookies for your birthday and seeing James get his mail every day while you’re on your way out the door for work)

James, on the other hand, is lowkey super thrilled

Bc he loves (LOVES) to see you in your scrubs early every morning

The two of you have made a habit of making light conversation for a couple minutes in the morning

(Or sometimes James just waves at you with the sweetest, prettiest, kindest smile if you’re in a rush)

It’s the highlight of James’ day tbh

Maybe tied with seeing Liam at school

You and James have actually become pretty good friends through these small interactions

Over the month or so since your birthday, James has learned, little by little, what constitutes a regular day in you and Liam’s household

Mornings are rather chaotic since you usually work 12-hour shifts from 7 to 7, so you pay one of the high school girls that lives in the building to watch Liam for an hour and drive him to school

You leave at 6:30-ish, which is right around the time James gets his mail (fucking morning person)

(He's started putting an alarm on his phone for 6:20 to remember to see you get the mail every morning)

Tonks is the girl who watches Liam in the morning (she insists you call her that and who are you to say no), and she also picks him up from school on Tuesdays and Thursdays and drops him off at Ms. Hope’s house across the street for a few hours before you can pick him up from there and take him home (Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, Ms. Hope can pick Liam up herself)

It’s a couple evenings a week that James crosses paths with you and Liam as you’re walking across the street back from Ms. Hope’s house

He always takes fifteen minutes or so (as long as you and Liam have the time) to talk with Liam about his day, what he enjoyed at school, if he had trouble on any homework (which is rare), and what he and Ms. Hope got up to after school

(Secretly, James hopes you’ll be impressed with how good he is with kids even though it’s literally his job lmao he knows it’s backwards thinking but he’s just so smitten)

But James knows better than to ask the same boring “what are you doing today” during your daily morning chats

Every morning, he asks you a random question about yourself

The second morning you and James talked (he hadn’t thought to ask you much more than “what are you doing up so early” the first time around), he’d asked about your favorite color

Then it was whether you prefer cats or dogs

James knows a bunch of random trivia about you now, like your favorite food and how you hate working in the med-surg unit and the name of your favorite stuffed animal from your childhood

And every morning, James tells you his own answer to the question of the day

His favorite color is red (which you think fits him, but he specified that he likes a dark wine color or a maraschino cherry best), he likes cats but prefers dogs (he laughed to himself when he told you like he was making an inside joke, but you didn’t ask questions), his favorite food is his mom’s recipe for biryani (you noted that he used the past tense when speaking of her), he loves bringing his kids to the library because one of his best friends is the librarian (James mentioned Remus, and you nodded because he’s Ms. Hope’s son), and his favorite stuffed animal is a plush rabbit named Miss Beatrice, who he still has in his apartment (you bullied him into admitting that he still sleeps with her on occasion, but it's so sweet you can't really laugh)

It’s become almost a sort of game, and you’ve come to know each other quite a bit more in these little five- or ten-minute interactions

It’s fun :)

And it’s normal and regular and consistent, and you and James like it that way

So James is rather alarmed when you come rushing down the stairs and into the lobby at 6:40 one morning, Liam running along with you with his school bag, trying to keep pace

You heave a sigh as you come to stand James’ side, checking your own mailbox (which you usually don’t do in the morning, and it makes James all the more concerned)

James can tell you’re trying not to brush him off but it’s obvious you’re in a rush

You’re halfway through explaining to him that Tonks came down with bronchitis and can’t watch Liam, and on top of that, your alarm didn’t go off this morning because you’d turned it off yesterday for your day off and forgot to turn it back on so you’re already running late, and you hate asking Ms. Hope to watch Liam at the asscrack of dawn—

James doesn’t really think about the words he says before they’re coming out of his mouth

He just offers to take Liam to school

It’s not like he’d be going out of the way for it anyway, I mean he and Liam are going to the exact same place and Liam has already been in James’ apartment before and knows it relatively well, so what’s the harm?

And you kinda … freeze … for a second

And at this point, James knows you pretty well, you know?

He knows you’re gonna refuse, say you can’t ask that of him, so he reassures you that it won’t be a problem at all and says he and Liam will have fun and get to school on time and everything

Just for added effect, he winks at Liam, who giggles and tugs on the sleeve of the shirt under your scrubs and asks with the sweetest, widest eyes if he can stay with Mr. Potter for the morning

And ever the thoughtful little boy, Liam reasons that then you won’t have to be stressed about bothering Ms. Hope or about where Liam might be for an hour in the morning

You’re considering the options, looking between James’ and Liam’s wide, excited eyes, until you finally sigh quietly

Just to be sure, you ask James if he’s sure he doesn’t mind

And of course, James doesn’t

(It took a while for James to convince you to stop calling him Mr. Potter and he’s always seen how you hesitate for a moment before calling him James, but he surprises himself with just how hot he feels under the collar when you don’t hesitate to call him by his first name this time)

You look down at Liam again and nod lightly, and your son is just all smiles and buzzing with excitement immediately

He gives you a hug around one of your legs, which you reciprocate as best as you can, and you exchange ‘I love you’s before you’re thanking James profusely on your way out the door

James watches you get in your car and drive away through the glass front doors of the building

And he must have an awfully fond look on his face

Because Liam just looks up at him with the cutest scrutinizing eyes you’ll ever see and asks “Do you like-like my mom?”

James just about chokes on his spit lmaooo

But Liam isn’t letting James off the hook without an answer, so James tries to be as tactful (and evasive) as he can be and says

“Your mom is very sweet, Liam. I can see where you get it from.”

Your chaotic morning was truly a warning for the rest of the day, because work really sucked

And by the end of your shift, you realize you didn’t tell James where Liam should go after school due to the unforeseen circumstances of the morning, so you’re hoping you won’t find your son sitting on the welcome mat outside of your apartment

But you figure you’ll go to Ms. Hope’s in case James kept to the usual schedule

But when you arrive, Ms. Hope says that James had actually called and told her he’d be taking Liam to his apartment and to tell you that’s where your son would be when you got home

So ofc that’s where you go next

You sort of hesitate to knock on the door at first, just because you’ve never been in or even around James’ apartment and it makes you strangely nervous

(Which is weird because you assisted with surgery on a man who’d been in a motorcycle accident earlier that day, and you’d come out on the other side of that alive and mostly mentally intact)

But your fist kinda just acts for you and knocks on James’ front door

There’s silence, then a high-pitched giggle (Liam) and a sweet chuckle (presumably James) before the door is yanked open and your son is flying into your arms

Well, more like into your legs bc he’s six and short lmao

But you pick him up and rest him on your hip like he’s a lot lighter than he is

And he’s immediately babbling away at you about all the fun things they did at school and how he wants to hang out with Mr. Potter every morning and afternoon and he missed you and look what he made for you during art class today!

You’re already feeling better from your shit day at work, and when you finally get the chance to look towards the doorway again, James is there with the softest, most … ugh he's just the sweetest

Because he looks so in love

And you sort of hate that you can see it in the way he looks at you and Liam

James is truly the kindest, most compassionate man you’ve ever met, and you know that at the end of the day, even when he looks at you and your son like that, you’re already counting the obstacles in your head

Because first and foremost, you’re a mother, always, and your son will always come first no matter what

And James is literally Liam’s kindergarten teacher, and there’s no way you’d even entertain the idea of putting your child’s education anywhere near your own entanglements

And even if that wasn’t a problem, and as much as James makes lovie eyes at you, you haven’t dated since Liam’s father

It would be an enormous change, both for you and Liam

And again, you don’t want your son to get hurt

You hope you’re not as transparent as you feel and that your thoughts aren’t being projected onto your forehead, but the way James reacts to you looking at him makes you think that maybe they were

But … maybe not, because you give him a tight-lipped, sort-of-melancholy smile, and all James does is smile back, and there’s a sort of understanding that passes between you as your son babbles in your arms about his class’ dioramas of the jurassic period

Not now, but … Maybe.

Next Part: You Get A Visitor in the ER

[alisonsfics]

off limits - part one

pairing: brother’s best friend!henry cavill x reader

summary: henry was best friends with your brother, theo, which meant despite the clear chemistry between you two, you both had chosen to not date

part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 coming soon

word count: 2.8k

You and Henry had a very complicated relationship. One that could not be explained without a bit of backstory. So, let’s start there…

Henry was best friends with Theo, your brother. You and Henry weren’t friends, but you were pretty friendly with each other. You had spent plenty of time together, but only with your brother around.

Henry and Theo had met in college and remained very close even as Henry started acting and gaining more fame, which brings the story to the night of Theo’s birthday party.

Theo always loved to go all out for his birthday. This year, he had rented out a rooftop lounge, which was the perfect location for all the people he invited.

You were currently waiting in the elevator, as it took up to the roof. You smoothed out your dress that you had picked for the occasion. It was a short little black dress that made you feel super confident.

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t a little attracted to Henry. He was a very handsome man, but it was just a little crush that you never intended to act upon. He was your brother’s best friend, which made it so much more complicated.

The elevator dinged as you reached the top floor. The doors slowly opened, and as if your life was a movie, Henry was standing in front of the doors.

You felt a shiver run down your spine as you looked at him. He had a white button up shirt on, with some basic black dress pants. He had no reason to look so good in such a simple outfit, but his shirt perfectly outlined his muscles. Let’s just say, you definitely noticed.

“Oh hey, you look great.” He said, lighting up as he saw you. You smiled shyly, “thank you, so do you.”

You stepped out of the elevator, and he stuck his hand out to hold it open. “I have to run down to my car for something, but I’ll be back.” He told you, smiling. You nodded your head. “Okay, I’ll see you up here.” You told him, walking away.

The elevator brought you to a little lobby room that had a few benches and the bathrooms. You looked around and spotted the door to the rooftop.

As you walked out the door, your ears were met by the loud sound of the dj. You took a second to look around and admire all the decorations. There was a dj, a dance floor, a buffet, a bar, and even a photo booth.

The whole place was decorated with silver and gold decorations. You suspected your brothers fiancé, Sarah, had helped him with the decorations.

You surveyed for a second, trying to find somebody that you knew. You spotted Sarah standing a table eating some food. You walked over towards her, smiling and waving once she spotted you.

“Oh, you look so beautiful,” she complimented, pulling you into a hug. You thanked her and then returned the compliment. “The party looks amazing by the way, I assume you helped with the planning.” You told her.

She laughed and nodded her head. “Yep. I love your brother to death, but he doesn’t have a single planning bone in his body.” She told you, causing you both to laugh.

“So, where is the birthday boy?” You asked her. She scanned behind you for a second, and then let out a giggle. “I honestly don’t even have a clue. He went off to say hi to some people and he’s been gone for a while.” She said.

Your brother was not a planner, but he was definitely a people person and also the live of the party. “I’m sure he’ll turn up somewhere. I mean, we know he can’t resist a buffet.” You joked.

“That’s true. Oh, actually, I think I see him over there. I’ll be right back.” She said, excusing herself and walking over to your brother. As you expected, he was chatting with a bunch of his high school friends.

“There you are,” you heard someone say behind you, causing you turn around. You saw Henry standing there with two drinks in his hand. “A tequila sunrise is still your drink of choice, right?” He asked, handing you a glass.

You felt your heart melt over the fact that somehow over the years he had memorized your drink order.

“Yes, it is, but Henry, you didn’t have to buy me a drink. I feel bad,” you told him. He shook his head as he took a sip of his drink. “Don’t even worry about it, it’s fine,” he assured you.

You frowned at him, but he expected it. He knew you had always been stubborn, but it never stopped him. “You sure I can’t pay you back?” You double checked, already knowing the answer. He shook his head again.

“Fine, but I’m buying the next round.” You told him. He knew not to push his luck any further and agreed. “So, how have you been? I haven’t seen you in a while. Didn’t you just finish filming that movie?” You asked him.

He nodded his head. “Yep, we just finished shooting last week. I’m gonna miss it, but it’s nice to just relax for a little bit.” He explained.

“Well, I can’t wait to see it. I’m sure it will be amazing.” You complimented him. He raised an eyebrow and looked at you like you were speaking another language. “What?” You asked, giggling at the perplexed look on his face.

“You actually watch my movies?” He asked you, still looking stunned. You let out a laugh. “What’s that supposed to mean? Am I not allowed to watch them?” You asked, still amused.

He quickly shook his head. “No no, I’m just flattered is all.” He explained. You could feel your cheeks heat up. THE Henry Cavill was flattered because you watched his movies.

“Well don’t go and get an ego now, we don’t need you getting a big head.” You teased him. He let out a soft chuckle. “I promise.” He assured you.

You couldn’t get the smile off of your face, and you felt like a giddy teenager.

Then, you felt two hands grab your shoulders, causing you to jump. You turned around to see Theo standing behind you. “Happy birthday,” you said, smiling and pulling your brother into a hug.

Then, he moved to Henry and gave him a hug as well. “So, you keeping my baby sister entertained?” Theo teased. You jokingly rolled your eyes. “Oh shush, I’m two years younger than you.” You said, playfully nudging Theo with your arm.

You both may have been full grown adults, but you could never get rid of your big brother, little sister dynamic.

“She’s been keeping me company.” Henry said, smiling as he looked at you.

“Yeah, we were just talking about how your birthday parties have gotten so much better since Sarah started helping you plan them.” You teased. Theo jokingly scoffed, pretending to be offended. “You’re lucky I’m in a really good mood,” he told you.

“And why’s that?” You asked, cautious of his answer. “Well, mom may have let it slip to grandma that you broke up with Andrew.” He told you, holding back a laugh. Your jaw dropped as you felt the panic set in.

“Oh god, now I’m gonna get the when I was your age, I was married and had three children already talk.” You said, sighing. This earned a laugh from both Theo and Henry. “Yep, good luck with that. Love you,” Theo said, walking away to go mingle with more people.

You turned back to face Henry. “Andrew was the guy who wore too much plaid, right?” Henry asked. You couldn’t help but giggle as you nodded your head. “Yeah, he was the one at that barbecue my mom had. I think you met him.” You told him.

“Are you doing okay?” He asked, referencing the breakup. You nodded your head. “Yeah, I’m doing okay. I mean, I really liked him, up until he started flirting with a bunch of women in front of me.” You explained.

Henry nodded his head, understanding. “Well, it sounds like you dodged a bullet. You can do better than some douchebag.” He told you, placing his hand on your forearm and rubbing his thumb back and forth. You weren’t ashamed to admit that you got butterflies as he comforted you.

Then, to perfectly interrupt the sweet moment, Henry’s phone started ringing. “Excuse me, it’s my mom. I need to take this.” He politely excused himself.

You spotted some people across the party that you knew through Theo and started to walk towards them. Then, you made eye contact with your grandmother. She made a beeline straight for you.

“Hi, grandma. It’s so nice to see you,” you said, giving her hug as you prepared for the oncoming speech. “Hello there, sweetie. Your mother mentioned that you broke up with your boyfriend.” She said, wasting no time.

“Yes, I did.” You admitted, taking a deep breath before her lecture began. She began rambling and covered all the topics: how you had no boyfriend, how your brother was getting married and you weren’t, and even prodding you to get busy and have kids.

You sat there, silently nodding as continued rambling, barely taking a breath. Over her shoulder, you noticed Henry talking to a friend. You both locked eyes.

Your facial expression must have made it clear you were miserable because you saw him chuckle to himself. You focused back on your grandmother, but you had started to zone out the words she was saying.

You snapped back into reality when you felt a hand on your arm. You realized Henry was standing next to you. “Excuse me, can I borrow her for a moment?” Henry said, looking at your grandmother. Her eyes lit up as her mind ran wild, thinking there was something romantic going on between the two of you.

“Yes, of course.” She said, smiling. Henry continued to hold onto your arm as he led you over to the bar. You both reached the bar, and you turned to face him. “Thank you so much, you are my savior. I swore she was going to keep talking forever.” You said, holding onto both of his hands.

He chuckled. “You’re welcome. I’ve become pretty familiar with the family interrogation about your love life.” He told you. You furrowed your eyebrows as you looked at him. “You expect me to believe that you’re single?” You asked, shocked.

A smile slipped onto his face. “And the flattery continues, you might be a little too dangerous for my ego.” He told you. Just like that, the butterflies returned to your stomach. You lightly hit his arm. “You know what I mean. You just never think that movie stars have a hard time finding a girlfriend.” You explained.

Henry wasn’t done teasing you yet though. “I know it’s hard to believe that we’re just regular people,” he joked, in his most dramatic voice. You rolled your eyes as you giggled to yourself.

You waved down the bartender and ordered drinks for you and Henry. As you waited, you caught Henry staring at you. “What?” You asked, almost worried you had something on your face.

“I just realized that this is the first time we’ve ever spent time together, just the two of us.” He told you. You thought about it and realized he was right. “So, are you realizing you picked the wrong sibling to be best friends with and that I’m way more interesting than my brother?” You joked.

He chuckled and looked down at his feet. “You do make pretty good company. The two of us should hang out more.” He told you, honestly.

The bartender placed down your two drinks. Before Henry could attempt it, you handed the bartender some cash. You held up your finger, stopping Henry from protesting.

“I owe you for saving me back there.” You told him. He thanked you and held up his glass. You clinked your glass against his own. “To new beginnings,” you said, smiling.

You both took a sip from your drinks, maintaining eye contact the whole time.

You had always been attracted to Henry, but this was the first time you were realizing how fun he was to just spend time with.

Henry caught a glimpse of your grandmother walking towards you both. He quickly grabbed your wrist and led you around to the side of the bar where you both couldn’t be seen.

“Was she coming back?” You asked, knowing exactly why he had done what he did. He nodded his head. “I swear, that woman is 80 years old, but her vision is still good enough to find the one person avoiding her from across a party.” You said, laughing. Henry laughed at your joke, almost choking on his drink.

Nothing made you feel more confident than making Henry laugh. It made you feel invincible.

You noticed a gate that let you go to the backside of the bar. You grabbed Henry’s hand and pulled him behind you as you lightly pushed the gate open.

It revealed a whole back private part of the rooftop. There was one of those electric fire pits surrounded by chairs and some other places to sit scattered around. The area was completely empty of people.

You kept Henry’s hand in yours as you walked over to one of the loveseats that was next to the fire pit. You took a seat and Henry kneeled down to flip the switch on as the flames quickly appeared.

He stood up and then sat down next to you. You felt like your heart was beating out of your chest. The fire provided a soft warmth that made you feel cozy.

You felt like your body was moving without your control as you leaned your head onto Henry’s shoulder. You didn’t know that Henry’s heart skipped a beat as you did it. He thought you looked absolutely gorgeous with the light from the fire reflecting on your face.

He moved his arm to rest it along the back of the seat. “It’s a really beautiful night.” You told him, admiring some of the stars in the sky.

“It is,” he agreed, “I’m glad I got to spend some time with you.” He let his arm move to wrap around your shoulders.

You were almost overwhelmed by the feeling of his arm wrapped around you and the smell of his cologne.

“Can I ask you something?” He asked, cautiously. You picked your head up from his shoulder to look him in the eyes. He moved his hand to rest on your thigh, sending goosebumps over your whole body.

Before he could even ask his question, you cupped his face and pulled him into a kiss. He wasted no time kissing you back. Within seconds, your hands were in his hair and his arms were wrapped around your waist.

His lips felt like heaven on yours. You hummed contently against the kiss, only encouraging Henry more. He grabbed your waist and pulled you into his lap, so you were straddling him.

You heard him groan against the kiss, running his tongue along your bottom lip.

You both seemed to have the same thought cross your minds at the same time, as you both pulled out of the kiss. You put your hands on his chest, keeping him from kissing you again.

“We shouldn’t,” you said, using all your effort to stop yourself. “I know.” He replied, simply.

You quickly got off his lap and stood up. “I should get going anyway. I have a flight to catch in the morning.” You said, trying to leave as soon as possible.

He stood up and grabbed your hand. “Wait, can I at least walk you to your car?” He asked you. You slowly nodded your head. He let go of your hand. Both of you knew exactly how complicated this was.

You both walked towards the elevators in silence. Neither of you said a word, until you got to your car.

You went to reach for your car door, but Henry stopped you. “Hey, I don’t want this to make things awkward between us.” He told you, honestly.

“What are we supposed to do? We both clearly like each other, but it would make things way too complicated with Theo.” You told him. He nodded his head. “I know that. Trust me, I wish you weren’t his sister. This would be so much easier. Can we at least just be friends?” He asked you.

You shrugged your shoulders, not knowing how to respond. “I don’t know, Henry. I don’t know if I can ignore the way I feel about you. We can’t let anything romantic happen between us, so it might be easier to not spend anytime together.” You told him.

He shook his head. “Neither of us want to avoid each other. We both get along really well, can we just try being friends?” He asked you. You thought about it for a second and eventually nodded your head.

“Have a safe flight tomorrow then,” he said, opening your door for you.

“Goodbye, Henry.” You said, smiling at him as you got in your car.

taglist: @laurakirsten0502 @miraclesoflove @nathaliabakes @millipop18 @azghedaheda @shyinadarkplace @vanteguccir @missroro @guacam011y @sw33t-cupid @ice-dtae @leyannrae @sia2raw @nyx2021 @just-a-littlebit-of-everything @shyconversationalbookworm @shadowhuntyi @visenyaverse @ruzannetheseahorse @superdeath @wandaswifeyforlifey @spookyqueen @mcuswhore @bookwormchick91 @princess-evans-addict @n3ssm0nique @peakascum @cjand10 @namsey1987 @multitargaryen @stephv213

Let me know if you want to be added to my taglist for all my imagines or for a specific character/fandom!!

Requests CLOSED