#other disclaimer: i stopped writing this for months and then came back and i do think its noticeable

[mephisto-reporting]

Jealousy, Jealousy with Sylus

Plot: Reader becomes jealous of Sylus and MC's closeness, distancing herself and seeking comfort in another LI. Sylus notices her growing distance and takes action. Based on this request. Pairing: Sylus x Non MC reader Content Warning: Insecurities, injuries, mention of blood, jealousy, angst, hurt/comfort Note: Reader is not the MC of the game. I think I got quite carried away writing this because I am a sucker for angst. [ A disclaimer note - Please be respectful of the request ]

The faint hum of the air condition echoed through the Onychinus base, its opulent, luxurious atmosphere doing little to distract from the knot twisting in your stomach. You stood across from Luke and Kieran, their crow masks tilted slightly as if to gauge your reaction.

"Boss isn't here today," Luke said casually, his hands tucked into his pockets. "He’s in Linkon, Boss man’s got other things to handle."

Kieran, his mask tilted slightly to the side, gave a confused grunt. "But I thought he was meeting with her...?"

Luke raised a brow, correcting him. "No, no, he was meeting with Miss Hunter."

Miss Hunter.

The words hit you like a sledgehammer, even though they shouldn’t have. You were a hunter too, an informant who had been feeding Sylus critical intel on the association’s movements for two years now. But she was different. Special.

Captain Jenna’s star pupil, with her rare Anhaunsen-class Resonance Evol, was someone Sylus had spent weeks trying to connect with, both literally and emotionally. You weren’t blind to the necessity of it; resonating with her was crucial for his goals, ones he hadn’t entirely shared with you but that you trusted him to pursue.

Trusted him. Loved him.

You forced a tight smile. "Thanks for the update. I'll let you two get back to it."

Luke and Kieran exchanged a glance, but you were already walking away, the echo of your boots swallowed by the hum of the base.

The ride back to Linkon was supposed to clear your mind. It didn’t.

The cool wind whipped against your face, but all it did was sting the tears pooling in your eyes. The road stretched endlessly ahead, yet the pressure in your chest only grew. Sylus hadn’t seen you in two months. Two months of unanswered calls and messages reduced to half-hearted responses when they came at all.

You understood why he was focused on her. She was crucial to his plans. She was everything you weren’t: poised, pretty, powerful, and, most importantly, someone he needed.

But understanding didn’t make it hurt any less.

The world blurred around you as your thoughts spiraled. You had always known your place in Sylus’ life. You were the informant, the quiet insider who helped him stay two steps ahead of the hunters. Somewhere along the way, though, you had fallen for him. For the man who wasn’t as cold and calculated as others believed. It had been two long years since you started working with Sylus. Two years filled with secrecy, lies, and hidden truths. But over those years, you'd found yourself tangled in emotions for him that you couldn’t shake. Sylus, with his cold authority, his dangerous smile, his complex nature… He was all you could think about. He wasn’t as dismissive as people thought. He had a way of looking at you when no one was watching—a fleeting softness that you cherished, even if you couldn’t be certain if it was real.

And now, it felt like you were losing him.

Your bike screeched to a halt near Meow’s Café. You hadn’t planned to stop, but the sight of the familiar storefront tugged at you. Perhaps a coffee and a moment to breathe would help.

The glass windows glinted under the midday sun, and your breath hitched as you looked inside.

Sylus was there. With her.

They sat at a small table, a deck of Kitty cards spread between them. He was leaning back, his smirk in full display as she laughed at something he said. It was the kind of laugh that reached her eyes, the kind of moment you had only ever dreamed of sharing with him.

You froze, your hands tightening on your helmet.

For a fleeting second, you wanted to march inside and demand answers. To ask him why he had time to play cards but couldn’t return your calls. To tell him how his absence had hollowed you out.

But you didn’t.

He looks so happy... you thought bitterly, swallowing the lump in your throat.

The truth gnawed at you. Every interaction, every ignored message, every unread notification on your phone—it was because of her. Because Sylus had more important things to do. She was the one who mattered now. She was the one who he had to resonate with, had to bond with, had to make fall for him.

And you? You were just a pawn, a tool—forgotten. And there you were. Alone. Watching through a window, the warmth of the cafe contrasting the cold, empty feeling in your stomach. He hadn’t even bothered to let you know he was back. He was with her. You couldn’t bear to watch any longer, but you couldn’t look away either. It felt like the world was spinning faster than you could catch up, and you were left stranded, dizzy, and abandoned.

Instead, you turned away, your chest tight and vision blurred. The world felt suffocating, the weight of your unspoken feelings dragging you down as you climbed back onto your bike.

It was for the best, right?

You couldn’t keep doing this. You couldn’t keep waiting for him, couldn’t keep fooling yourself that there was something real between you two. He was busy. He had her. And you.. well, you didn’t even know why you bothered anymore.

The ride back to your apartment was a blur of taillights and muffled engine noise. The city’s glow that usually brought you some sense of comfort felt glaring and alien tonight. By the time you made it inside, the suffocating silence of your small space was overwhelming.

For someone who prided herself on being strong and independent, you barely made it to your couch before the sobs overtook you. Hot, angry tears streamed down your face as you clutched a pillow to your chest, trying in vain to keep your cries muffled. It felt as though something within you had been ripped apart, leaving an aching, hollow void that throbbed with every thought of him.

You replayed the image of him at the café in your mind, over and over, as if some part of you wanted to punish yourself further. His smirk. Her laughter. The ease of their interaction. It contrasted so sharply with the heaviness that now weighed on your heart.

Every chime of your phone made you flinch, hope briefly sparking to life, only to be cruelly snuffed out when the screen lit up with messages from others—work updates, pointless notifications, or friends checking in. Nothing from him. Of course, there wouldn’t be.

You wiped at your face, your chest tightening as you scrolled through the last few conversations you’d had with Sylus. They were short, clipped responses. A "thanks" here, an "I’m busy" there. You’d convinced yourself for weeks that he wasn’t brushing you off, that his focus was just elsewhere. But deep down, you knew. You’d always known.

You weren’t as important to him as he was to you.

That realization settled over you like a heavy blanket, suffocating and final. And yet, you tried to convince yourself it was okay. He doesn’t owe me anything, you told yourself, though the thought only twisted the knife deeper. He’s free to choose who he spends his time with.

But it didn’t stop the tears.

The days that followed were a haze of exhaustion and numbness. You threw yourself into your work, spending long hours tracking and confronting wanderers. The physical exhaustion helped, even if just a little. At least when you were in the middle of a fight, the pain in your chest was drowned out by the adrenaline coursing through your veins.

Still, the nights were the worst. Alone in your apartment, the quiet crept in like a suffocating fog. You tried to distract yourself—reading, cleaning, even organizing old mission reports. Anything to keep your mind from drifting back to him. But it was impossible.

Each time you saw his name in your contacts, you hesitated. Your thumb hovered over the call button more times than you cared to admit, but the fear of hearing his indifferent voice stopped you every time. What would you even say? That you missed him? That you wanted to see him? That you’d fallen for him, even though you knew it would never be mutual?

No. You couldn’t do that to yourself.

You worked harder, pushed yourself further. Every wanderer you fought became a stand-in for your frustrations, your insecurities. You told yourself that if you could just stay busy enough, the ache would go away. But no matter how many missions you completed or how many late nights you spent staring at your phone, the weight in your chest never fully lifted.

By the end of the week, you were exhausted—physically and emotionally. But you were surviving. Barely. The bell above the door jingled softly as you pushed into the chocolatier’s shop, the rich scent of cocoa and vanilla wrapping around you like a warm embrace. The day had been grueling—hours of chasing leads, a narrow escape from a particularly aggressive wanderer, and not a single bite of food since morning. Your stomach growled in protest, a sharp reminder that you’d been running on fumes for too long.

Rows of meticulously crafted chocolates gleamed beneath the glass counter, their perfect swirls and shimmering finishes almost too beautiful to eat. Almost. You leaned forward slightly, scanning the display, your reflection ghosting over the pristine surface.

Dark chocolate truffles. Raspberry ganache. Caramel hazelnut clusters. The options were overwhelming, and your indecision felt heavier than it should’ve. Your chest still ached from the lingering emotions you’d been suppressing all week. The quiet joy of the shop felt alien, like stepping into a world you no longer belonged to.

Just pick something and go, you thought, your fingers tightening on the strap of your bag. But the choices seemed endless, each one whispering promises of sweetness you weren’t sure you deserved.

"If you’re struggling," a soft, measured voice spoke behind you, "the pistachio crème chocolate is an excellent choice."

Startled, you turned, your gaze falling on a man standing a few steps away. Tall and lean, he exuded an understated confidence that was both intimidating and captivating. Dark hair fell in against his forehead, and sharp hazel-green eyes, softened by gold flecks peered at you from behind thin-framed glasses. His white doctor’s coat was open, revealing a simple black shirt beneath, and he held a small paper bag in one hand.

You blinked, caught off guard by both his suggestion and his presence. "Oh, uh… thank you," you stammered, trying not to sound as flustered as you felt. "I’ll… I’ll try that."

The shopkeeper nodded and carefully packed your selection as you stole another glance at the stranger. There was an air of calm authority about him, a quiet assurance that made you feel oddly exposed, like he could see straight through you.

He waited patiently as the shopkeeper handed you your bag, but just as you were about to leave, his voice cut through the quiet again—this time, more direct. "Chocolates shouldn’t be your first meal of the day."

The statement was delivered without malice, his tone stoic and matter-of-fact, yet it hit like a stone to the chest. Your lips parted in shock, the question forming before you could stop it: How does he know? But before you could say anything, he was already moving toward the door. The bells jingled softly as it closed behind him, leaving you standing frozen in place. The stranger’s words lingered, intertwining with the rest of your messy emotions. Your fingers clenched the small bag of chocolates as you tried to process the brief encounter.

A soft gleam on the floor caught your attention, breaking your spiraling thoughts. A wallet, its sleek leather worn but well-kept, lay just inches from where the man had stood. You knelt and picked it up, your heart thudding as you opened it to check for identification.

The name embossed on his hospital ID was like a jolt: Dr. Zayne. Your eyes widened. Doctor Zayne? The name was familiar—a renowned surgeon whose skills and precision were legendary, often described as a miracle worker. You’d imagined someone older, more weathered, not… this.

For a moment, you stared at the ID, piecing together the puzzle of the composed, enigmatic man who had called you out so effortlessly. You tried the number listed on a card tucked into his wallet, but it rang unanswered, the sterile monotone only adding to your frustration.

"Of course, he wouldn’t answer," you muttered under your breath, chewing your lip as you debated your next move. The idea of keeping his wallet overnight felt wrong, and leaving it here in the shop seemed equally careless.

That left one option.

The hospital loomed ahead as you approached, its towering structure illuminated against the evening sky. Anxiety gnawed at your insides, twisting with every step you took through the sterile white halls. You weren’t sure why you felt so on edge—maybe it was the overwhelming sense of inadequacy that had been haunting you lately, or maybe it was the lingering impression of Zayne’s knowing gaze.

At the reception desk, you hesitated, gripping the wallet tightly as you cleared your throat. "Hi, um, I’m here to return something for Dr. Zayne. He… accidentally dropped this."

The receptionist barely looked up, taking the wallet with a polite but indifferent smile. "Dr. Zayne isn’t in right now. I’ll make sure he gets this when he’s back."

"Oh," You nodded, murmuring a quick thanks before retreating back toward the exit. You thought nothing of this interaction as you left. You did what you thought was right and left the hospital back towards your apartment.

The days blurred together in a haze of work and routine. You buried yourself in assignments from the Hunter’s Association, throwing yourself into dangerous missions with a single-minded intensity. Anything to keep your mind occupied.

Sylus messaged you once during that time, his tone professional as he asked for updates regarding a lead he was tracking. You’d responded quickly, sticking strictly to business. No pleasantries, no banter—just the information he needed. He didn’t press, didn’t call you out for your uncharacteristic coldness. Maybe he didn’t notice. Or maybe he did and chose not to say anything.

That night, you jogged through the dimly lit streets, your breath fogging in the cool air as you tried to exorcise the restless energy gnawing at you. The rhythmic slap of your sneakers against the pavement was grounding, steady. Jogging had always been your go-to, a way to clear your head and silence the endless stream of "what-ifs" and "if-onlys" that plagued your mind.

But no amount of movement could completely shake Sylus from your thoughts.

His voice, his presence—it clung to you, even now.

Why didn’t he ask how I’ve been? Why didn’t I?

You shook your head, annoyed at yourself. There was no point in dwelling. Sylus wasn’t the kind of person to give you what you wanted, and even if he did, could you trust it? Could you trust him?

The sound of skidding tires yanked you out of your spiraling thoughts.

“Look out!”

Before you could process the warning, a cyclist veered wildly toward you, their momentum too strong to stop. There wasn’t even time to brace yourself. The impact hit like a freight train, and suddenly, you were on the ground, tangled with the bike and its rider. Pain blossomed sharp and hot in your knees as the asphalt scraped them raw.

For a moment, you just lay there, stunned. The world tilted unsteadily, the city lights smearing together like a watercolor painting.

“Hey, you okay?” The cyclist’s voice snapped you back. They were scrambling off you, helmet slightly askew but otherwise unscathed. You shook your head to clear it, wincing as you sat up. You pushed yourself up, shaking the dizziness from your head, and checked on the cyclist who had crashed into you. They were already scrambling to their feet, looking slightly dazed but otherwise unharmed, their helmet and guards having done their job.

“I’m fine,” you managed, even as your knees throbbed in protest. “Are you?”

“Yeah, thanks to the gear,” they said, pulling off their helmet to inspect a small crack along its surface. “Guess it did its job.”

Relief washed over you. “Good. Let me just—”

“Wait.” A different voice cut in, firm but calm. You stood there, still trying to regain your bearings when a figure appeared beside you, moving with a grace that immediately caught your attention. Your heart skipped a beat when you saw who it was. Dr. Zayne. The same man who had crossed your path in the chocolatier's shop just days ago. His sharp eyes locked onto yours, and for a split second, everything else seemed to vanish. His expression shifted from mild surprise to something more concerned as he took in your state.

Without saying a word, he immediately began assessing you, his gaze narrowing at the blood now staining your knees. You winced, feeling the sting of the cuts that had begun to bloom with a fiery intensity, but you were determined not to show it. You were used to pain—used to the sharp discomfort that came with being a hunter. You didn’t need help. You could handle this on your own. You’d always been able to.

But Dr. Zayne wasn’t having any of it.

His voice, low and steady, broke through the haze of your thoughts. "You’re bleeding. Those need first aid," he said firmly, his frown deepening as he glanced at your scraped knees. "Sit. Wait here. I’ll be back in a minute."

You opened your mouth to protest, to tell him you were fine, but the words caught in your throat. He wasn’t asking. His tone, though gentle, was authoritative—demanding in its own quiet way. There was something about the way he carried himself, that calm, unflinching presence, that made it impossible to argue.

"I’m fine, I am a hunter." you managed to say, your voice rougher than you intended. "I can handle it at home. Really." You tried to force a reassuring smile

“Is this a hunter thing?” he interrupted, one brow arching skeptically. “Are all of you this stubborn about basic care, or is it just you?”

The words should have been biting, but his tone was almost... patient. Like he was accustomed to dealing with difficult people.

You flushed, suddenly hyper-aware of the sting in your knees and the heat of his gaze. “I’m not being stubborn,” you muttered. “I just don’t want to bother anyone over something so small.”

“Small injuries have a way of turning into bigger problems,” he said, folding his arms. “And I’m not bothered. As a doctor, I’m asking you to wait here. I’ll be back in a minute.”

Without waiting for your protest, he turned and strode off, leaving you no room to argue.

You sat stiffly on the bench, gripping the edge as the minutes dragged on. The ache in your knees was nothing compared to the gnawing discomfort blooming in your chest. Anxiety clawed at you, whispering insidious doubts.

He’s wasting his time on you.He probably thinks you’re pathetic and weak.Why couldn’t you have just gotten up and left?

Your fingers curled into fists, the tension radiating through your body.

The sound of footsteps interrupted your spiraling thoughts, and Dr. Zayne was back, carrying a small first aid kit. He knelt in front of you without a word, his hands steady as he cleaned the cuts on your knees. The gentle pressure of his fingers as he worked felt almost surreal. His silence wasn’t uncomfortable—it was just… calm. You found yourself drawn to it, to the quiet that seemed to settle around him.

"You’re lucky," he said, glancing up at you as he bandaged your knees. "That could’ve been a lot worse."

You nodded, the words caught in your throat. There were so many things you wanted to say, things you wanted to ask him, but you didn’t know where to start. So you remained silent, watching as he finished his work, his hands moving with the practiced precision of someone who had seen too many injuries to count.

When he was done, he straightened up and met your gaze. "You should be more careful," he said softly, his voice a little lighter than before, though there was still a note of concern underlying his words. "Next time, don’t run so late at night. You never know what could happen."

You forced a tight smile, the words feeling like they were coming from someone else. "I’ll keep that in mind," you said, your voice quieter now.

Dr. Zayne took a step back after finishing the bandages, his sharp gaze softening ever so slightly as he packed the first aid kit. You glanced at him, your mouth opening to thank him, but before you could get the words out, he said, almost in unison, “Thank you.”

Both of you froze, the simultaneous expressions of gratitude hanging awkwardly in the air. A surprised laugh slipped out of you, breaking the tension.

“You first,” he said, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

You swallowed, trying to ignore the heat creeping up your neck. “I was just going to say thank you for… you know, helping with this.” You gestured vaguely toward your knees, the bandages clinging to your skin. “You didn’t have to.”

The moment stretched between you, awkward yet somehow comforting. Zayne gave a small, almost amused smile at the simultaneous gratitude, but his gaze softened when it landed on you, his concern still present.

"Thank you for returning my wallet," he said, his tone steady but with a hint of appreciation.

His words caught you off guard. “Oh, right! That. It wasn’t a big deal, really.” You fidgeted with the hem of your sleeve, avoiding his gaze. “I found it at the chocolatier shop. I figured it was better to bring it to the hospital than leave it lying around.”

He nodded thoughtfully, his eyes lingering on you for a moment longer than necessary. “I appreciate it. Not many people would go out of their way like that.”

You tried not to let his kindness throw you off, but it wasn’t easy. There was something about Zayne that made you feel... small in a way you didn’t like to feel. He was kind, yes, but that kindness made you wonder if you were deserving of it. Why should you be the one he cared about?

But before you could dwell on that any further, his voice cut through your swirling thoughts.

"Have you eaten today?" His tone was light, but there was an edge of sincerity beneath it, one that made your stomach twist in a way that had nothing to do with hunger. It reminded you of that conversation in the shop, of how he had so effortlessly read through your tiredness.

The sheepish look that crossed your face must’ve been obvious, because Zayne sighed, the sound so deep that it almost felt like a reprimand. He pinched the bridge of his nose in a gesture that was both familiar and surprisingly endearing.

“You’ve got to take care of yourself,” he said, his voice almost too gentle for the weight of his words. “It’s not healthy to go without food, especially if you’re going to keep running around like you hunters do.”

You opened your mouth to protest, to tell him it wasn’t a big deal, but Zayne didn’t give you the chance.

"There’s a diner close by. It’s the least I can do to thank you for returning my wallet."

You shook your head instinctively, trying to backpedal. "It’s really not necessary," you said, but Zayne wasn’t having any of it. His eyes were firm, and there was an undeniable warmth behind them that almost made you feel guilty for refusing.

"Yes, it is," he replied, his tone steady but with a hint of finality. "Now, come on.”

You hesitated for a moment, the unease building in your chest like a brick wall, but the thought of Zayne’s calm, commanding presence made it impossible to say no. So, with a quiet sigh, you relented.

"I’ll pay," you muttered as he led the way, the words almost reflexive. You always felt like you had to pay your way—like it was your responsibility to do so, especially with someone who had helped you, even in the smallest of ways. You were used to standing on your own two feet.

Zayne only gave you a side glance, his lips quirking up in the barest of smiles. "No, you won’t. It’s my thank you, remember?"

The diner wasn’t far from where you had been, a cozy, low-lit place with a soft hum of quiet conversations and the clink of silverware against plates. The familiar scent of warm food—steak, mashed potatoes, and the unmistakable aroma of fresh bread—immediately filled the air as you stepped inside. You followed Zayne to a small booth in the back, the vinyl seats creaking under your weight as you slid in.

You wanted to say something—thank you, maybe—but the words felt stuck, trapped somewhere in the pit of your stomach, along with everything else that had been piling up for weeks. Zayne didn’t seem to notice, his focus already turning to the menu as he gestured for you to pick something.

You wanted to ask him more, to understand him in the same way you understood the empty streets you ran through, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that you’d just end up looking foolish. So, instead, you stared at the menu in front of you, unable to focus on the choices, as your mind churned with questions that had no answers.

Zayne ordered for both of you, his voice low as he made his choices, and when he looked at you, you caught a flicker of something—perhaps curiosity, or was it concern? It was hard to tell.

"You should eat more regularly," he said again, as though the words were a reminder he had to repeat for his own peace of mind. You nodded, letting the silence fill the space between you for a moment.

The food arrived, warm and satisfying, and you took a bite, surprised at how hungry you were despite the earlier denials. Zayne watched you for a moment, his gaze softening as you ate, but you couldn’t bring yourself to meet it. His concern, his care—it felt too much. You weren’t used to people worrying about you.

But as the meal went on, you found yourself starting to relax, the initial tension loosening from your shoulders. Zayne was easy to talk to, his calm, steady presence settling you in a way you hadn’t expected. By the end of the meal, you felt... lighter.

"Call me Zayne," he said when the check came, his voice quiet but sincere.

You blinked, a little caught off guard by the request. "Zayne?" you echoed, testing the name on your tongue.

"Yes," he replied with a small, patient smile. "It’s easier than 'Dr. Zayne,' don’t you think?"

You blinked, taken aback. “Are you sure? I mean, you’ve earned the title—”

“And I’ll still have it in the hospital,” he interrupted, amusement flickering in his eyes. “But here, it’s just Zayne.”

You nodded slowly, testing the name in your mind. It felt strange, almost too personal. But there was something grounding about it, too.

By the time dessert arrived, the knot of anxiety in your chest had loosened considerably. The warmth of the diner, the steady cadence of his voice, and the shared laughter over a poorly made joke had a way of pulling you out of your own head. For the first time in what felt like weeks, you weren’t obsessing over your failures or doubts.

As you finished your meal, Zayne pulled out his phone and slid it across the table. “Here,” he said simply. “Add your number. In case you ever need anything.”

You hesitated, the gesture feeling far more intimate than it probably was. But his expression was patient, expectant, and you found yourself entering your contact information before you could overthink it. When you handed the phone back, his lips twitched into a faint smile.

“Thanks again for returning my wallet,” he said, his tone lighter now. “And for the company.”

You felt your cheeks flush, but this time, it wasn’t entirely unpleasant. “It’s not a problem,” you murmured, a small smile tugging at your lips.

As you stepped out of the diner and into the cool night air, a strange sense of calm settled over you. Zayne walked you to the corner where your paths would diverge, his presence steady and reassuring.

“Take care of yourself,” he said, his voice softer now, almost intimate.

“You too,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

The diner’s warmth lingered even as you stepped into the cool night air. For the first time in what felt like weeks, your chest didn’t feel as tight, the oppressive weight that had been bearing down on you now lifting slightly. You still felt the ache of Sylus’ absence—a hollow, gnawing sensation that seemed to creep in whenever you let your guard down, but it wasn’t as suffocating as it had been. Instead, a new sensation fluttered in its place, tentative and fragile: excitement. It was strange to feel this way, to look forward to the possibility of a friendship formed under such unlikely circumstances. Zayne’s calm demeanor, his steady presence, had surprised you.

As you walked, the sound of fluttering wings caught your attention. Instinctively, your heart skipped, your mind jumping to Mephisto. You tilted your head to the dark sky, half-expecting to see the telltale silhouette of his familiar. But it was just a cluster of pigeons, their wings catching the faint glow of the streetlights as they soared away.

Right. Of course. It was unlikely that Sylus was watching you tonight.

You exhaled, a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, and forced your thoughts away from him. Zayne had offered you a rare moment of normalcy, and you weren’t about to let your memories of Sylus overshadow that.

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The following weeks were a blur of activity, and before long, you found yourself stationed at an outpost on the outskirts of Linkon. A metaflux surge had disrupted the area, and the temporary makeshift hospital was bustling with injured workers, hunters, and even a few civilians caught in the chaos. The air was thick with tension, the metallic tang of metaflux faint but persistent, a reminder of the unseen dangers that lurked just beyond the safety of the encampment.

Zayne was assigned as the doctor for the outpost, and you often found yourself crossing paths with him. At first, your interactions were brief—a nod here, a shared glance there—but over time, you began to talk. It started with simple pleasantries, discussions about the metaflux readings or the influx of patients, but it wasn’t long before the conversations deepened.

You learned that Zayne had a dry sense of humor, his sharp wit often catching you off guard. He’d tease you about your stubbornness, and you’d retort with a quip about his overly serious nature. Despite his professionalism, there was a warmth to him, a quiet compassion that made him easy to trust. And though you’d never admit it, you found yourself looking forward to those moments of shared laughter, those fleeting glimpses of something lighter amidst the chaos.

But even as your friendship with Zayne grew, Sylus lingered at the edges of your thoughts, a shadow you couldn’t quite shake. The conversations you had with him were sparse and strictly work-related—updates from the Association, bits of intel you passed along to him. It felt transactional, a far cry from the intimacy you once shared. Yet, every time his name appeared on your screen, your heart still raced, betraying the fragile boundaries you’d tried to set.

One evening, a message from Sylus broke the monotony of your routine.

‘Come over tomorrow night, Darling. I have an exquisite wine I’d like you to try—procured it during a recent deal.’

The invitation was simple, almost casual. For a moment, you imagined it—the rich scent of wine filling the air, his sharp yet alluring gaze fixed on you as he poured you a glass. But reality quickly crept in, dragging you back to the present. You couldn’t go. You couldn’t risk it. Not when your heart was still so fragile, still aching in ways you didn’t want to admit.

You stared at the screen for what felt like an eternity, your fingers hovering over the keyboard as your mind raced. The truth was, you wanted to see him. But you knew better. You had to keep your distance—for your own sake, if nothing else.

‘I’m tired..'

You typed, the words feeling hollow as they formed.

'Busy day tomorrow. Maybe another time.’

You hesitated before hitting send, the weight of the message pressing down on you. When his reply came, it was as simple as his invitation.

‘Okay.’

The finality of it hit you like a brick, and for a moment, you felt like your breath had been stolen away. He didn’t push. He didn’t argue. That empty “okay” hung in the air, leaving you with the quiet realization that, once again, you had lost yourself in the haze of someone else’s world.

You tried not to read too much into it, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that he had already moved on. That he didn’t care enough to fight for your attention. Instead, it felt like you were just a passing thought, like an aftertaste that wasn’t worth savoring.

Miss Hunter. The words echoed in your mind. You squeezed your eyes shut, willing the tears to stay behind your eyelids, but they pressed hard, a sting that never seemed to fully fade. You rubbed your forehead, trying to push away the thoughts. But even as you did, you couldn’t escape the suffocating feeling in your chest—the one that always came when you were reminded of how little you meant to him. You felt foolish, but you couldn’t help it. It was like you were always waiting for the other shoe to drop, for him to come back, to pull you back into his orbit with that practiced charm, that voice that made you feel wanted, if only for a little while.

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The dinner with Zayne had been a welcome reprieve. It had been two weeks since you last saw him, the demands of work pulling both of you in different directions. But tonight, seated across from him in a small, cozy bistro, you found solace in the familiar rhythm of your conversations. The mellow lights softened the sharp angles of his face as he recounted a mishap earlier in the week involving a particularly irritable patient.

His dry humor, paired with the subtle lift of his brow, drew a laugh from you—a genuine, light sound that felt foreign after the weight of recent days. For a while, the world outside blurred away. You weren’t Miss Hunter; you weren’t anything other than a person sharing a meal with a friend.

As the meal wound down, Zayne looked at you over the rim of his glass, his expression calm. “You’re doing better than when we first met.” he remarked softly.

You blinked, momentarily caught off guard. “Am I?”

He nodded. His calm demeanor always had a way of grounding you, and tonight was no exception.

The meal wrapped up with the two of you trading small updates and light banter. You paid for your half of the meal, Zayne insisting it wasn’t necessary, but you’d insisted back. There was a sense of normalcy here, something you weren’t willing to let go of easily. When you parted ways outside the diner, the night air was cool and quiet. Zayne’s warm farewell echoed softly in your ears as you waved goodbye and headed back toward your apartment.

As you walked, you felt lighter somehow. The stress of the past few weeks hadn’t vanished, but Zayne’s steady presence had reminded you of something important—moments of peace still existed, even in the chaos.

The faint scent of lavender greeted you as you unlocked your apartment door, a hint of the candle you’d left burning earlier. The lights were off, and the air felt too still—unnaturally so. Your heart skipped, the hairs on the back of your neck standing on end. A lump formed in your throat, panic curling its fingers around your chest.

You flicked the light switch, and the sudden brightness flooded the room, revealing the figure sitting on your couch. Sylus.

You froze. Your body stiffened, caught between fight or flight.

Your yelp of surprise filled the space, your pulse racing as you clutched the doorframe for support. “What—Sylus? What are you doing here?”

He was sitting on your couch, one arm draped casually along the backrest, his other hand resting on his knee. The dim light of the room softened the sharp edges of his face, but his expression was anything but gentle. His eyes, sharp and unyielding, tracked your every movement as if he were dissecting you with just a glance.

“How—what are you doing here?” you stammered, your voice shaky as your pulse raced.

Sylus didn’t respond right away. Instead, he tilted his head slightly, his gaze dragging over you slowly, deliberately. His silence was louder than any words he could have spoken, and it made your skin prickle.

“Darling,” he finally murmured, his voice low and smooth, laced with something you couldn’t quite name. “You look… exhausted.”

You blinked, still standing frozen by the door. His tone was soft, almost tender, but it was the way his jaw tightened, the way his fingers tapped against his knee, that betrayed his underlying tension.

“Y-yeah,” you stammered, your voice wavering as you took a cautious step forward. “It’s been a long day. What are you doing here?”

Sylus leaned back, the leather of the couch creaking faintly under his weight. “A long day,” he echoed, his lips curving into a faint smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Yet you had time for dinner.”

“I…” you faltered, scrambling for a response. “It was just…”

“Just dinner,” he interrupted smoothly, his tone unreadable. “With… someone else.”

The air felt thick, charged with a tension that made your skin prickle. You opened your mouth to respond, but the words stuck in your throat. His eyes narrowed slightly, his expression still calm but his body language telling a different story. The way his fingers drummed against his knee, the slight clench of his jaw, the flicker of something dark in his gaze.

Your heart pounded, your thoughts racing. Why was he here? What did he want? And why did his presence—his very existence in your space—make your chest ache in that familiar, suffocating way?

“I didn’t think…” You stopped yourself, your voice trembling. “You didn’t say you’d be coming by. You can’t just—”

“Can’t just what?” he asked, his voice dangerously soft as he rose from the couch, his movements fluid and deliberate. “Show up to see what’s wrong?”

Your breath hitched as he closed the distance between you, his height and presence suddenly overwhelming. “Nothing’s wrong…”you managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Is that so?” he murmured, tilting his head slightly, his eyes boring into yours. “Because from where I’m standing, it seems like you’ve been avoiding me, Darling.”

The accusation hung in the air, sharp and unyielding.

“I’ve been busy…” you said weakly, your voice lacking conviction.

“Busy,” he repeated, his gaze flicking over you again, this time with something close to disdain. “Too busy for me, but not too busy for… him.”

Your hands fidgeted at your sides, your breath coming in shallow bursts. You wanted to move, to put distance between you, but your legs felt rooted to the spot. “I didn’t think dinner with a friend would..”

“Friend?” he interrupted, the single word slicing through your sentence. His lips curved into something that might have been a smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

Your heart pounded painfully against your ribs, the anxiety swirling in your chest mixing with something else—something raw and painful that you didn’t want to name. The memories of your last exchange with Sylus came flooding back—the curt messages, the unspoken finality of his “okay.” You had tried to convince yourself that it didn’t matter, that you didn’t need his validation. But standing here now, under the weight of his gaze, you felt every crack in the fragile walls you had built to keep him out.

“I don’t understand what you want from me,” you said finally, the words trembling as they left your lips.

His eyes softened slightly, but the tension in his posture didn’t ease. For a moment, he looked like he wanted to say something, something important, but the moment passed as quickly as it came. Instead, he reached out, his fingers brushing against your cheek in a gesture so gentle it felt almost foreign.

“Don’t make me feel like I’m a stranger to you.” he said quietly, his voice carrying a hint of vulnerability that made your chest ache.

Don’t make me feel like I’m a stranger to you. The words echoed in your mind, repeating, twisting, until all you could hear was the raw edge of betrayal laced in his tone.

You let out a bitter laugh, the sound sharp and bitter, a little too loud in the quiet of your apartment. Your chest tightened, and for a moment, you felt the space around you grow smaller. You couldn’t breathe—couldn’t think. All you could feel was the heat of anger building inside of you, raw and unrefined.

“That’s rich,” you scoffed, finally managing to find your voice. “That’s really rich, coming from you of all people.”

Sylus blinked, a subtle flash of surprise crossing his face, but it quickly masked over. His lips tightened, his brow furrowed ever so slightly, but it wasn’t enough. You had to push, you couldn’t hold back now. The words were tumbling out before you could even stop them. Your breath hitched, a strangled sob lodged somewhere in the back of your throat, but you refused to let it spill. You wouldn’t let him see you break—not like this, not in front of him. You knew the truth. He knew the truth. It hurt, yes, but you weren’t the one to blame.

“You've been treating me like a stranger for months,” you continued, your voice trembling with anger you hadn't fully realized was there. “Barely responding to my messages, not answering my calls, and when I do see you, it’s like you can’t be bothered. You don’t even see me.” You felt the weight of every unreturned message, every unanswered call, every promise left in limbo. “I’ve had to hear from Luke and Kieran that you’re in Linkon. But you couldn’t even make time to see me.”

You felt the ache deep in your chest, that familiar, suffocating knot forming. He didn’t deserve your pain. Not anymore. You wouldn’t let him have that. Not this time.

You took a shaky breath, suddenly feeling raw, exposed. “You don’t have to feel obligated to check on me, Sylus,” you said, your words clipped and cutting through the thick silence between you. “You don’t have to feel pity for me. I know where I stand. I know my place in your life.”

His expression, that unreadable mask, cracked for the briefest of moments. His lips parted, his gaze flicking to your face, then back down to the floor. His jaw clenched. But his eyes… They weren’t the same as they’d been earlier. The hardness was gone, replaced by something far more dangerous, something even more intimate. The storm was gathering, but it wasn’t just in the air—no, it was inside him too.

“You know where you stand?” His voice was quieter now, but there was an edge to it, a slight tightness you hadn’t noticed before. He took a step forward, his body closing the space between you, like a wave of raw energy crashing toward you. His proximity only made your pulse race faster, but you couldn’t back down. Not now.

“I’m just an informant, right?” you bit out, every word feeling like it sliced through the night air, cutting through the tension like a blade. “You don’t have to pretend you care, Sylus. So don’t stand there with that look on your face like I’m some important thing you need to check on.”

The air between you grew heavy, thick with unsaid words and stifled tension. Every inch of your body was telling you to get away, to shut down, to stop this before it tore you apart. But your feet felt heavy, stuck in place. Sylus’s presence was like gravity, pulling you toward him.

"You think that's all you are?" he murmured, his voice dangerously low, like the calm before the thunder. The way he said it made your heart stutter in your chest. It was both a question and an accusation or a challenge.

But there was something else in his voice. Something you couldn’t quite place. His eyes were intense, too intense, and they searched yours like he was looking for the answer. The truth.

“I didn’t want to hurt you,” he continued, his words clipped, as though they were difficult for him to say. “But I couldn’t....couldn’t make sense of it. Of you.”

It was the first time that he seemed genuinely vulnerable, and it left you breathless and confused. You had always wondered if there was more beneath his cold exterior. You had always told yourself that he cared. But you had never dared to confront him.

His hand was close enough now to reach out, his fingers barely brushing the edge of your wrist. The air between you was still thick with everything unsaid, everything unhealed. And yet, despite the words that had been thrown between you, there was something undeniably magnetic in the tension. The ache in your chest, the rawness, the feelings of betrayal—they didn’t wash away just because you said them out loud.

God, you hated him for this.

But part of you yearned for him. That part that still felt tethered to him, despite the distance.

Sylus’s fingers hovered over your wrist, his touch like fire against your skin. For a moment, the storm between you calmed, leaving only the faintest echo of it behind. The weight of his gaze, the force of his presence—it seemed to drown out the rest of the world.

He said nothing for a moment, his lips parting as though he wanted to speak but couldn’t find the words. His eyes darkened further, not with anger now, but with something you couldn’t quite define.

You took a breath, your body suddenly feeling too small beneath his gaze. The storm was still inside. You had to move away. Your heart pounded as if it were trying to escape your chest, desperate to flee from whatever was stirring inside you. You couldn't—no, you wouldn’t—let yourself get caught up in whatever this feeling was. You were not some fool, ready to throw everything away for the temporary pull of his presence. You knew better than that. You had to.

Every instinct screamed at you to retreat, to put some distance between you and the mess of emotions bubbling under your skin. His sharp gaze was enough to make your knees tremble, and it took everything in you not to look back, not to let him see the quiet devastation that flickered inside you.

“You need to leave… Sylus.” You whispered. You staggered back a few steps, your breathing shallow, desperate. Your feet felt like lead, yet you forced yourself to walk away. You turned your back to him, willing your legs to move, hoping to escape before you got sucked into whatever dark vortex of feelings he was drawing you into.

He didn’t move. Instead, you heard the familiar click of his boots against the floor as he took a single, deliberate step forward. “Why?” His voice, low and curious, sent a shiver down your spine. It was almost too intimate, as if he were searching for a piece of you, trying to understand what you couldn’t explain.

You didn’t want to look at him. Didn’t want to see the quiet confusion on his face—the faint flicker of disappointment that stung like salt in an open wound. You couldn’t let him see your weakness, couldn’t let him know how badly it hurt to be around him, how badly it hurt not to be around him.

“Is it so you can run back to your precious ‘friend’?” The words dripped with something unspoken, something that made your stomach twist.

You couldn’t look at him. You couldn’t. Not when his voice—that voice, the one that threaded through the air like silk—was digging into your mind like this. The word echoed in your ears, almost mocking you, and you felt something fragile snap inside you. The weight of the years you’d spent keeping distance, of guarding your heart against him, against whatever he made you feel, started to unravel. But you couldn’t let it.

You took another step away from him. One more step, you told yourself. Just one more. You didn’t need this.

Dark tendrils wrapped around you as you move, pulling you back. He was using his evol to pull you back. You didn’t need him pulling you in again. But then it came. That touch. He pulled you to him, forceful yet intimate, and your breath caught in your throat. You were too close. Too close to the edge of losing yourself, of falling into his presence.

His hands...no, his fingers—snaked around your waist before you even knew what was happening. You gasped, body going stiff in surprise, but his grip tightened, pulling you back into him. You tried to keep moving, tried to pull away, but it was useless. His hold was ironclad, his presence consuming. His grip tightened slightly, but there was an almost comforting pressure there, a subtle reminder that despite the dispute between you, there was something undeniable between the two of you.

“Why are you running?” His voice was a whisper against your ear, the words smooth like silk, but there was something jagged beneath them—something urgent, raw.

You struggled to hold yourself together, but the more you fought it, the more it pulled—this unbearable need to lean into him, to give in to the chaos that his proximity stirred in you. You knew you shouldn’t, but everything in you wanted to. You felt the ache of wanting something you couldn't have, the sting of the distance you had put between you and the thing that was somehow both poison and relief.

His hands tightened slightly, his thumb brushing over your ribs in a movement that sent a jolt through your entire system. The words you wanted to say, the reasons you needed to get away from him, all felt so small and pointless now. How could you possibly explain this? This tension, this pull? How could you say that being near him felt like the most excruciating thing in the world, but also the only thing that made you feel alive?

“You’re not just an informant to me,” he breathed, his words slipping under your skin, curling into the tight spaces of your chest. “I didn’t realize I was hurting you this much. That you’d want to distance yourself from me...” His tone softened at the end, but it only made everything worse. The tenderness in his voice—his tenderness—was like a dagger in your side, making the blood in your veins freeze. You wanted to say something, anything, but all you could hear was the deafening rush of your own heartbeat. You tried to stay composed, but the words were caught in your throat, and your body was still pressed so tightly against his, your breath shallow, your pulse thudding painfully against your ribs.

Why was this so hard? Why couldn’t you just say it—say that you couldn’t let him get close again? That you couldn’t survive another wound, another aching, empty feeling in your chest because of him? But the way his hands tightened, the warmth of his body against yours, made everything you were feeling a little too real.

You could feel his heartbeat against your back, the rhythm in sync with your own, and the pull of him was growing stronger. You could feel your anxiety bubbling up, the gnawing fear at the pit of your stomach. Was this just him toying with you? Was he trying to pull you into his world of darkness and manipulation? Or did he really care?

Your head was spinning. The emotions warred within you—anger, confusion, guilt, and something else. Something that made your heart race faster and your thoughts scatter like leaves in the wind.

“Let me go,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the storm that raged around you.

But you didn’t pull away. You didn’t push him off.

Sylus' grip on you tightened, his arm like a steel band around your waist, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you. His chest rises and falls against your back as his breath brushes against your ear, warm and heavy. It’s as if he’s afraid, like if he lets go for even a second, he’ll lose you forever. You can feel the tension radiating from him, but also something softer, something desperate.

“No, Darling,” he murmurs, his voice low and thick with emotion, his tone possessive, as though the very idea of you slipping away shatters him. “You’re not going anywhere and neither am I.”

"You’re going to stay," He pulls you even closer, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he speaks again, quieter this time, but laced with something raw and vulnerable. "...and you’re going to listen to me. I won’t let you walk away from this."

You can hear the flicker of something beneath his words—regret. And then, his lips ghost over the sensitive skin of your neck, lingering just a little longer than necessary. He slowly spins you around, to face him. His voice softens, almost apologetic. “I know I was a dick. I know I didn’t respond to you, and I’m sorry for that. I didn’t know how to handle it… handle us. It confused me, and instead of facing it, I pushed you away.” His breath catches slightly, and you feel his chest tighten against your back.

His hand moves to cup your cheek, tilting your face slightly toward him, his thumb brushing over your skin as though it’s a promise, an apology. The weight of his gaze is intense, but there’s also something tender there, something that wants to pull you back in, closer. “I know you’re still hurting, darling. I see it. And I... I’ll spend a lifetime making up for it, because that’s what I want. A lifetime. With you. Not as some informant or some... thing, but as my beloved. You. By my side. Always.”

He pauses, letting his words hang in the air between you. His voice drops, the quiet sorrow of his confession sending a twinge of guilt through you. "I don’t have the right to ask this of you, I know," Sylus continues, his voice thick with emotion. "But seeing you push me away… It’s harder than I ever thought it would be. Harder than I want to admit." He presses his forehead lightly against your temple, his breath shaky. "I’ve never needed someone the way I need you, and I didn’t know how to tell you that. But I do. I need you."

You can feel him tense slightly, the shift in his demeanor telling you that his thoughts have turned darker. His voice lowers, the jealousy evident in the way he speaks, though it’s wrapped in a softness that almost makes it harder to bear.

"And Dr. Zayne... I can’t stand the thought of him being so close to you," Sylus adds, his voice low and thick with a possessiveness that unsettles you in its intensity. "It kills me, you know? Watching him with you, hearing you laugh like that with him, as if I don’t even exist." His arm tightens again, almost painfully, as if he needs to remind you, remind both of you, where you truly belong. "I know I have no claim on you... but... I can't help but feel like there’s a part of you that wants him in a way that... I can't compete with." His voice hardens, jealousy dripping from every word. "It eats at me, knowing he has a part of you that I’m fighting for."

"Sylus..." Your voice cracked slightly as you repeated his name, your breath hitching, caught in the tension between you. His name felt heavy on your tongue, like it was both a question and an answer. You had never said it so quietly, so vulnerably. The memories of earlier came rushing back—him with her, that delicate smile he gave her, the way she leaned into him just a little too comfortably. It had burned in your chest, the jealousy creeping in with a venomous ache.

The words tumbled out before you could stop them, too fast to gather, too painful to hide. "I felt the same... when I saw you with her," you confessed, swallowing thickly. "I felt so... so useless, Sylus. When I saw you with her, it felt like... like she was everything you needed. Better than me. And that... it broke me, Sylus. I felt like I wasn’t enough, like I wasn’t... worth it.”

The words stung, bitter and unrelenting, but the weight of them was finally lifted as you let them spill out. You felt exposed, naked in your insecurity, but somehow, it was all you could do to stand there and wait for him to respond. You could feel the weight of it, of how small you’d felt in that moment, how unworthy you had become in your own eyes. The self-doubt gnawed at your insides, each thought of her with him twisting like a knife in your gut.

Sylus’s expression softened, his features melting into a tender sadness, as though he were seeing you for the first time, truly seeing you. His hand reached out slowly, almost hesitantly, as if afraid to shatter the fragile space between you. His touch was a gentle comfort, his fingers brushing against your cheek, his voice a low whisper, "Darling, you're none of that... none of it, I swear."

You shook your head, feeling the tears threatening, but you couldn’t let them fall, not yet. His words were kind, but the ache in your chest was still there, an unhealed wound.

He continued, his voice steady but thick with something deeper. "I didn’t know you felt that way... about her, in the same way I feel about Zayne." His gaze met yours, and for the first time tonight, it wasn’t uncertain. It was so gentle, so soft, tender. "But you need to know, you're it for me, Darling…" he murmured, his fingers curling around yours, grounding you in the quiet storm of your emotions. "Yes, I want help from her, but..." He paused, as if weighing his words carefully, "...I need you more." His words were a balm to the wounds that had festered within you, but the tenderness in his eyes was what finally reached you. His hand slid down to your shoulder, his thumb grazing the skin there. His warmth surrounded you, and you let yourself sink into the comfort of his words. The jealousy, the insecurity that had burned so fiercely in you when you saw him with her, melted in the face of the tenderness he was offering now.

You swallowed, trying to steady yourself as your heart raced, the intensity of the moment almost overwhelming. “Zayne… Zayne’s just a friend,” you said, your voice fragile but firm, “someone who helped me... helped me see past the stuff in my head. After everything, I just... needed someone to remind me that I’m not broken.”

Sylus's eyes softened even more, the depth of his gaze sending shivers down your spine. He nodded slowly, his expression filled with understanding. The tension between you didn’t disappear entirely, but it was now laced with something more tender. More real.

“You’re not broken, Darling.” he repeated, and there was a quiet strength in his voice, something that made you believe him more than you ever had before. “You’re everything I’ve ever needed... and more.”

"I... I’m sorry," you whispered, a lump in your throat as you looked up at him. "I never wanted to make you feel like I didn’t care. I just... I was afraid you’d choose her over me."

Sylus’s fingers brushed against the nape of your neck, pulling you closer, his forehead pressing gently against yours. "You never have to apologize for that, Darling." he murmured, his voice warm, his breath mingling with yours. “It was my fault and I accept that.”

The room was quiet, save for the soft sound of your breathing, as Sylus stood before you, his face drawn with intensity. The flickering light from the lamp cast soft shadows across his features, but his gaze... his gaze was sharp, focused entirely on you.

"I love you, Darling" he said, his words lingering in the air as though they were the first time he had allowed himself to say them out loud. "I’m in love with you," he confessed, his voice steady despite the raw emotion that tinged it. "I’ve been in love with you for a while now, and I’ve tried to deny it. Tried to hide it from you and myself, but I can’t anymore. I won’t. I love you, and I need you to know that."

The breath you hadn’t realized you were holding caught in your throat. Everything in you froze, then splintered. The confession, so pure, so vulnerable, hit you with a force you hadn’t been prepared for. You stood there, unable to move, a mix of surprise and relief flooding your chest.

He loves you. Sylus. The one you had longed for, yearned, and hoped for in silence. Your heart stuttered in your chest, the world around you growing impossibly still.

"I…" you whispered, voice trembling, and you had to stop, had to steady yourself before the words could spill from your lips. "I’ve love you too," you said, your voice barely more than a breath, but it carried all the weight of everything you had kept inside. "I’ve loved you, and I never told you because I was afraid. Afraid that I was asking too much. Afraid of the rejection. Afraid that I wasn’t enough."

Sylus’s expression softened, his lips curling into a frown as he stepped forward, closing the space between you. His hands reached for you, but not in the way you had feared or expected. They were gentle, his touch a plea for understanding. "Oh, darling," he whispered, shaking his head slowly. "I’m so sorry. I’m sorry you ever felt like you needed to hide it from me."

He reached up, brushing his thumb along your cheek, and you flinched slightly, your emotions suddenly overwhelming you, raw and untamed. "We’re both idiots," he continued, his voice almost tender with the weight of the admission. "We’ve been skirting around each other, afraid of saying the one thing we both needed to say."

Your laugh came out soft, almost fragile, the tension in your chest breaking for the first time since Sylus had walked into your home. It was a quiet sound, but it was the first time you’d laughed all night, the first time you’d allowed yourself to feel something other than fear or uncertainty in the past few weeks with him involved. But that laugh didn’t last long. As soon as it came, the tears followed, the ones you had been holding back for so long, finally slipping free. The dam you had built up crumbled, and before you could stop them, hot tears streamed down your face. before you could even reach up to brush them away, his hand was there, steady and warm against your cheek.

"Don’t," you whispered, your voice thick with the ache you could no longer hide. "Please, don’t look at me like this. I’m—"

"Stop," Sylus interrupted softly, his hand holding yours gently, his gaze unwavering. "Don’t hide from me. I want to see all of you… everything you’ve been hiding. I know you think I don’t see it, but I do." His eyes locked onto yours with such intensity that you couldn’t look away. "I see it when you think I’m not watching. I see the way you pull back, the way you hide the parts of you that you think I can’t handle. But I am looking. I’ve always been looking. And I don’t want you to hide anymore. Not from me. And I’m here and I want all of you."

His words were a medicine to the parts of you that had been bruised, the parts that had feared being exposed, vulnerable. But in his eyes, there was only love. No judgment. No pity. Just... love. And it was enough. It was more than enough.

The tears that had slipped down your face slowed, but they didn’t stop. You didn’t try to wipe them away this time, allowing yourself to be seen for the first time in ages. The sobs that followed were soft but trembled with relief, with something finally breaking open inside of you.

Sylus’s arms were around you in an instant, pulling you close, holding you in the kind of embrace that made you feel as though you could finally breathe, as though the weight of everything you had been carrying could finally be set down.

"I’m sorry," you whispered, almost broken. "I’ve been so scared, Sylus. Scared of this, of being cast away... of losing you."

"You’ll never lose me, Darling." he murmured, his voice firm and unwavering as he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead.

You tilted your head back slightly, your face still damp with the remnants of the tears that had fallen, and through your wet lashes, you searched his face. Sylus held you close, his arms wrapped around you in a way that made you feel safe, even as the doubts lingered in your heart. You wanted to believe him, but the fear, the uncertainty, was still there, buried deep beneath the surface.

He must have seen it in your eyes, the way you still hesitated, the uncertainty you couldn't quite shake. Sylus made a half-frustrated sound in the back of his throat, his hands tightening around you for a split second, before they slid up to cradle your face. His thumb brushed against your cheek again, a tender, pleading touch, before he leaned in, his lips finding yours in a sudden, urgent kiss.

The kiss was unlike any other. It wasn’t slow, it wasn’t soft. It was intense, filled with desperation, as though he needed you to understand just how deeply he felt for you, just how much you meant to him. His hands cupped your face, holding you as if you were the only thing that mattered in that moment, as if the world had stopped turning just for you. His lips pressed against yours with a kind of fire, but it wasn’t angry, no. It was passionate, desperate in its own way, like he wanted you to feel how important you were to him, how much you had been wanted, loved.

Your hands trembled as they reached up, gripping the collar of his shirt, pulling him closer, wanting to bridge the distance between you, as though the kiss itself could erase every lingering doubt in your heart. Your breath hitched when you felt his pulse quicken under your touch, his heartbeat matching the frantic pace of your own. Each breath you took seemed to echo in the stillness of the room, mingling with the heat of his kiss, our lips moving together with a quiet urgency, the world beyond the two of you fading into a distant blur. You felt everything—every brush of his fingers, every subtle shift of his body against yours, the way his chest rose and fell beneath your palms, how his breath felt against your lips as if he couldn’t get close enough to you.

Your chests rose and fell together, the world spinning around you. You could feel the heat of him, the urgency that still lingered in his touch, the way he kept you close, almost as if he were afraid to let go.

Breathing became an afterthought, both of you gasping for air when the kiss broke, but neither of you pulled far enough away to lose the connection. Sylus’s forehead rested against yours, his breath hot against your lips as he whispered, voice still heavy with emotion. “Every day, from henceforth, I will work to make sure you never feel the need to doubt yourself. Not in my life. Not with me." His words, slow and deliberate, sank deep into your heart like a promise he would keep.

The intensity of the moment hung between you both, the room still, save for the soft sound of your breathing as you both slowly came back to reality. But in his eyes, you saw nothing but certainty—certainty that you were enough. That you always had been.

His hand found yours again, fingers weaving with yours, and he gave it a gentle squeeze, as if the simple touch was a quiet reassurance.

"You are everything to me," he murmured, his voice steady now, grounding you as much as his embrace. "And I’ll make sure you never forget that.”

Your eyes fluttered shut for a moment, absorbing his words, his warmth, his certainty. In his arms, you could feel the truth of his promise, somewhere deep inside, the doubts began to fade.

For the first time in a long time, you believed him. And when he kissed you again, this time softer, it was like the beginning of something new.

[ A disclaimer note - Please be respectful of the request ]

AN: reblogs, feedback and opinions are appreciated!

[zickmonkey]

Sympathy is Different from Pity - Black Canary & Harley Quinn (platonic)

Dinah takes a pregnancy test in secret and Harley finds out. Opening a conversation about Dinah's tendency to hide her pain from others. Mentions of Infertility, Miscarriages, and Stillbirth.

Fic itself below cut:

Dinah was home alone, she knew that. She'd been careful to make sure, checking every room, looking at the calendar to ensure everyone was accounted for. Even Sin wasn't set to be home again until that night.

So she took her time, she took up space. She let herself feel every feeling no matter how long it took, and she set up shop in the main kitchen.

Some small part of her always felt guilty for doing this without Ollie, but she also knew it was so much better for him that she did.

She'd been on the stairs when she heard the front door open, making her pause, and go over every arrangement she'd read on the calendar- Ollie was in Queen Industries meetings all day, Roy had taken Lian to Gotham to see Jason, Connor and Mia were on a road trip across America to protest how tight of a leash she and Ollie kept on them (Something they'd announced and heard no arguments about, proving that the leash was, in fact, quite loose).

Dinah had proved to herself again that she had prepared, she had planned, and no one else should be home.

If she had been doing anything else her first thought probably would've been to be on alert, to check for someone dumb enough to attempt a break in and robbery in broad day light. But instead it was what she'd left on the kitchen Island. What she'd looked at and then immediately walked away from.

She continued down the stairs, trying to stay quiet. Not to sneak up on them, but to put the cards into her hand, so she could start the conversation she'd be forced to have.

She was, in all honesty, expecting her husband. Moreso, her husband in one of his moods, ranting about how awful everyone on the board is, about how boring the meetings were. Carefully taking off his thousand dollar suit jacket before he just threw it on the floor for hired help or her to pick up later. Slipping off loafers that cost more than her monthly rent on her apartment in Gotham.

She was not expecting the two toned hair and white skin of Harley Quinn, looking in her fridge and checking expiration dates on the pudding Dinah didn't even remember buying but was probably for Sin or Lian.

"Harley, what're you doing here?"

She didn't even move her head from the fridge to look back. "You're pregnant?"

"No. Harley, what're you doing here?"

"Then what's the test on the counter?"

"Harley what're you doing here?"

"I was lonely. I thought you mighta missed me. I missed you. Should I have knocked?"

"Ideally."

Harley had finally stepped away from the fridge, though not without a pudding cup in her hand. "If it's not yours what's with the test? Aren't you the only girl who lives here?"

"No."

"So it's someone elses?"

"No."

"Oh? OH- did I interrupt something big with you and the mister- did you have something big planned? Is that why it was so quiet?!"

"No. Harley-"

"You can talk to me," Harley sat herself down onto the nearest stool, quickly crossing her legs and clasping her hands on top, tilting her head. "I am a psychiatrist you know."

"I'm fairly confident your license has been revoked."

"Come on, D.D. tell Dr. Quinzel what's up."

"I don't like to talk about it," Dinah had come all the way into the kitchen, carefully reaching for the test she'd so carelessly left in the open when she was sure it would be safe.

She'd seen the two lines when she'd first checked, they were strong ones, too. The strongest she'd ever gotten.

But still, it was the answer she didn't want. That she never wanted but had gotten so many times.

"Then it sounds like you should." Harley had put her pudding cup on the counter beside her, her attention completely and wholly on Dinah, enough that it made her want to be honest.

It helped that somehow Harley was both a friend she could confide in, and someone she barely spoke to. It was like talking to no one but also talking to her bestfriend all at once.

"Are you worried about telling Oliver?"

"No. I don't plan on telling him at all."

"Do you not want to keep it?"

"I do."

"Then why wouldn't you tell him? Won't he find out?"

"No." Dinah sighed, Harley was, somehow, good at this. She walked around her to take the stool beside her, placing the test back on the counter- too close to the pudding for her liking, but she was sure Harley didn't care.

"It never lasts." She said. "There's no use in telling him."

"What if this one does?"

"It won't. Look- we wanted kids, he did. The first couple times I did tell him, and we were excited, but it's ended the same way every time. I haven't told him the last few times."

"How many times?" Harley's eyes were wide, looking at every detail on Dinah's face that remained impressively passive.

"Three, that he knew about. This will make eight, all together."

"And you just go through it alone?"

"He'd get excited, and then he'd get hurt. So yes, I do. I know that no matter what the test says there won't be a baby, it doesn't hurt, anymore."

Harley was quiet, just looking at her.

"Yes it does." She finally said. "You want this baby?"

"But I won't have it. There are other options- I mean we have Roy, Connor-"

"But they're not yours. You didn't get to raise them, you just love them."

"I have Sin." Dinah said.

"You're allowed to be hurt," Harley, to her surprise, was remaining completely professional. She'd left the pudding on the counter, instead of shovelling it into her mouth mid surprise-therapy session. "Women are usually told to just get over it. But that's not really realistic."

"I lost my ability to have kids years ago." She shrugged, trying to stand her ground that this was nothing to her, now.

"If you're sure you can't have a kid, that you can't have a viable pregnancy, why take a test at all?"

"Because I was late."

"Yeah," Even not holding the pudding itself Harley still held the spoon, waving it around like it was just an extension of her hand. Pointing with it. "But if you were completely confident that you would miscarry, why would you need to know that there was a baby at all? One day you'd wake up, and you'd be bleeding, and you could keep going."

"Not necessarily-" Dinah wasn't complete sure why she was arguing, why she was having this conversation at all. Harley with her blue eyes so big in her head and waving around a spoon as she spoke.

"Because you could successfully carry a pregnancy to term? Because this could be the one?"

"No. Because I could miscarry later and need medical assistance to pass the fetus."

"Don't revert to medical terms to make you feel better." Harley clicked her tongue, wagged her finger, "you're hiding behind professional language."

She ignored what the clown said, at most rolling her eyes just slightly- she wondered if that would make her correct her too. Now she was hiding behind childish behaviours, acting like a teenager who hadn't learned how to deal with the hard feelings yet.

"Or I could have a late term miscarriage- a stillbirth, technically."

"Has that happened?" Harley cocked her head, somehow completely focused on her throughout all of their conversation.

"The longest I've carried a pregnancy was 26 weeks and then there was no heart beat. It was my fifth."

"So Ollie knew?"

"Oliver knew. After the first two I decided to stop telling him, but with that one it was two weeks. And then three. I told him when I was 14 weeks. I pretended like it was a shock to me and I had just found out, but really I was only telling him because I was worried I'd start to show."

"Dinah, tell him about this one."

"No." She shook her head. "I've already told one more person than I wanted to."

"You really tell no one? Not your own husband, what about Barbara?"

"I don't want to be pitied."

"It's not pity." Harley answered. "it's sympathy. Because this sucks ass and you don't deserve to do it alone."

"I'd rather no one know. I'd rather just lose the baby and move on."

"The one you lost at 26 weeks, was it a boy or a girl?"

"Girl." Dinah answered immediately and wished she hadn't.

She'd been arguing so hard that the losses didn't matter, that she just moved on. But that answer was too readily available to her to not matter.

"What did you name her?"

"I didn't-"

"I know you did, Dinah. What did you name her?"

"Dinah. After my mother. To be- to be honest I don't know. I knew Dinah would be in there, but we thought we had more time. We were discussing other options- Drake, maybe. Or- or Dinah as a middle name. But we ran out of time. So her name never got farther than Dinah."

"Do you and Ollie talk about her?"

"No."

"Maybe you should."

"No." Dinah shook her head. "He doesn't like to. It's hard."

"That's the point, D.D."

"Can our appointment be over? Can you just eat your pudding?"

[ruhua-langblr]

Language Apps Suck, Now What?: A Guide to Actually Becoming "Fluent"

The much requested sequel to my DL post that was promised almost a year ago.

I'm going to address all of the techniques that have helped me in my language learning journeys. Since 95% of these came from the fact that in a past language learning mistake, they are titled as my mistakes (and how I would/did things differently going forward). For those that read to the bottom there is a "best universal resources" list.

Disclaimers:

"Fluency" is hard to define and everyone has their own goals. So for the purpose of this post, "fluency" will be defined as "your personal mastery target of the language".

If you just want to pick up a bit of a language to not sound like a total foreigner on vacation or just exchange a few words in a friend's native language, feel free to ignore what doesn't apply, but maybe something here could help make it a little easier.

This is based on my own personal experience and (some) research.

Mistake 1: Asymmetrical Studying

Assuming you don't just want to do a single activity in a language, or are learning a language like ASL, a language requires 4 parts to be studied: Speaking, Listening, Writing, Reading. While these have overlap, you can't learn speaking from reading, or even learn speaking from just listening. One of my first Chinese teachers told me how he would listen to the textbook dialogues while he was biking to classes and it helped him. I took this information, thought "Yeah that's an idea, but sounds boring" and now regret not taking his advice nearly every day.

I think a lot of us find methods we enjoy to study (mine was reading) and assume that if we just do that method more ™ it will eventually help us in other areas (sometimes it does, but that's only sometimes). Find a method that works for you for each area of study, even better find more than one method since we use these skills in a variety of manners! I can understand a TV program pretty well since I have a lot of context clues and body language to fill in any gaps of understanding, but taking a phone call is much harder—the audio is rougher, there's no body language to read, and since most Chinese programs have hard coded subtitles, no subtitles to fall back on either. If I were to compare the number of hours I spent reading in Chinese to (actively) training my listening? Probably a ratio of 100 to 1. When I started to learn Korean, the first thing I did was find a variety of listening resources for my level.

Fix: Find a variety of study methods that challenge all aspects of the language in different ways.

A variety of methods will help you develop a more well-rounded level of mastery, and probably help you keep from getting bored. Which is important because...

Mistake 2: Inconsistent Studying

If there is one positive to a language app, it is the pressure it puts on keeping a streak. Making studying a part of your everyday routine is the best thing you can do. I benefited a lot from taking a college language course since I had a dedicated time to study and practice Chinese 5 days out of the week (and homework usually filled the other two). Memorization is a huge part of language learning, and stopping and starting is terrible for memorization. When I was in elementary school, we had Spanish maybe a couple times a month. Looking back, it seems like it was the first class to be cut if we needed to catch up on a more important course. Needless to say, I can't even speak Spanish at an elementary level.

However, I'm sure many people reading this don't have the time to do ultra-immersion 4-hour study sessions every day either. Find what days during the week you have time to focus on learning new vocab and grammar, and use the rest of the week to review. This can be done on your commute to school/work, while you do the dishes, or as a part of your morning/evening routine. Making this as realistic as possible will help you actually succeed in making this a habit. (Check this out for how to set realistic study goals)

Fix: Study regularly (ideally daily) by setting realistic goals. Avoid "binge" studying since remembering requires consistent repetition to be most effective.

Mistake 3: Resource Choice

This is really composed of two mistakes, but I have a good example that will cover them both.

First, finding resources that are at or slightly above your level is the most important thing. Easy resources will not challenge you enough and difficult resources will overwhelm you. The ideal is n+1, with n as what you know plus 1 new thing.

Second, getting distracted by fancy, new technology. Newer isn't always better, and there are often advantages that are lost when we've made technological developments. I often found myself wanting to try out new browser extensions or organizational methods and honestly I would've benefitted from just using that time to study. (Also, you're probably reading this because of my DL post so I don't think it has to be said that AI resources suck.)

A good example of this was my time using Clozemaster. I had actually recommended it when I first started using it since I thought the foundation was really solid. However, after long term use, I found that it just wasn't a good fit. The sentences were often too simple or too long and strange for memorization at higher levels or were too difficult at lower levels. I think that taking my textbook's example sentences from dialogues into something like Anki would've been a far better use of my time (and money) as they were already designed to be at that n+1 level.

Fix: "Vet" your resources—make sure they will actually help you. If something is working for you, then keep using it! You don't always have to upgrade to the newest tool/method.

Mistake 3.5: Classrooms and Textbooks

A .5 since it's not my mistake, but an addendum of caution. I think there is a significant part of the language learning community that views textbooks and classroom learning as the worst possible resource. They are "boring", "outdated", and "ineffective" (ironically one of the most interesting modern language learning methods, ALG, is only done in a classroom setting). Classrooms and textbooks bring back memories of being surrounded by mostly uninterested classmates, minimal priority, and a focus on grades rather than personal achievement (imagine the difference between a class of middle schoolers who were forced to choose a foreign language vs. adult learners who self-selected!) People have used these exact methods, or even "cruder" methods, to successfully learn a language. It all comes down to what works best for you. I specifically recommend textbooks for learning grammar and the plentiful number of dialogues and written passages that can function great as graded readers and listening resources. (Also the distinction made between "a youtube lesson on a grammatical principle" which is totally cool, and "a passage in a grammar textbook" is more one of tone and audio/written than efficacy).

Classrooms can be really great for speaking practice since they can be a lot less intimidating speaking to someone who is also learning while receiving corrections. Speech can be awkward to train on your own (not impossible if you're good at just talking aloud to yourself!), and classrooms can work nicely for this. Homework and class schedules also have built in accountability!

Fix: Explore resources available to you and try to think holistically about your approach. CI+Traditional Methods is my go to "Learning Cocktail"

Mistake 4: Yes, Immersion, But...

I realized this relatively quickly while learning Chinese, but immersion at a level much higher than your current level will do very little for you. What is sometimes left out of those "Just watch anime to learn Japanese" discussions is that you first need to have a chance at understanding what is being said. Choosing materials that are much higher than your level will not teach you the language. It doesn't matter how many times someone at HSK 1 hears “他是甘露之惠，我并无此水可还”, they will not get very far. Actual deduction and learning comes from having enough familiar components to be able to make deductions—something different than guessing. An HSK 1 learner, never having heard the word 老虎 will be able to understand "tiger" if someone says “这是我的老虎” while standing next to a tiger. This is not to say you can never try something more difficult—things should be challenging—but if you can't make heads or tails of what's being said, then it's time to find something a bit easier. If mistake 2 is about the type of method, this is about the level. If you wouldn't give a kindergartener The Great Gatsby to learn how to read, why would you watch Full Metal Alchemist to start learning a language?

Side note: Interesting video here on the Comprehensible Input hypothesis and how it relates to neurodivergence.

Fix: Immerse yourself in appropriate content for your level. It's called comprehensible input for a reason.

Mistake 5: On Translation

I work as a translator, so do you really think I'm going to say translation is all bad? Of course not. It's a separate skill that can be added on to the basic skills, but is really only required if you are A. someone who is an intermediary between two languages (say you have to translate for a spouse or family member) or B. It is your job/hobby. In the context of sitting down and learning, it can be harmful. I think my brain often goes to translation too often because that's how I used to learn. Trying to unlearn that is difficult because, well, what do people even mean when they say "don't translate"? They mean when someone says "thank you", you should not go to your primary language and translate "you're welcome" from that. You should train yourself to go to your target language first when you hear the word for "thank you". A very literally translated "thank you" in Chinese "谢谢你" can come off as cold and sarcastic. I don't tell my friends that, I say "谢啦～". Direct translation can take away the difference in culture, grammar, and politeness in a language. If there is a reason you sound awkward while writing and speaking, it's probably because you're imposing your primary language on your target language.

Fix: Try as hard as you can to not work from your primary language into the target language, but to work from the structures, set phrases, and grammar within the target language that you know first.

Mistake 6: The Secret Language Learners Don't Want You To Know...

...is that there is no one easy method. You are not going to learn French while you sleep, or master Korean by doing this one easy trick. Learning a language requires work and dedication, the people that succeed are those that push through the boredom of repetition and failure. The "I learned X in 1 year/month/week/day!" crowd is hiding large asterisks, be it their actual level, the assistance and free time available to them, "well actually I had already studied this for 4 years", or just straight-up lying. Our own journeys in our native tongue were not easy, they required years and years of constant immersion and instruction. While we are now older and wiser people that can make quick connections, we are also burdened with things like "jobs", "house work", "school work", and the digital black hole that is "social media" that take up our time and energy. Everything above is to help make this journey a little bit easier, quicker, and painless, but it will never be magic.

I find that language learning has a lot in common with the fitness community. People will talk about the workout that changed their life and how no other one will do the same—and it really can be the truth that it changed their life and that they feel it is the ultimate way. The real workout that will change your life is the one you're most consistent with, that you enjoy the most. Language learning is just trying to find the brain exercise that you can be the most consistent with.

Fix: Save your energy looking for shortcuts, and do the work, fail, and come back for more. If someone tells you that you can become fluent in a ridiculously short amount of time, they are selling you a fantasy (and likely a product). You get out what you put in.

For those that made it to the end, here are some of my "universal resources":

Refold Method: I don't agree with their actual method 100%, but they've collected a lot of great resources for learning languages. I've found their Chinese and Korean discords to also be really helpful and provided even more resources than what's given in their starter guides.

Language Reactor: Very useful, and have recently added podcasts as a material! The free version is honestly all you need.

Anki: If I do not mention it, the people with 4+ year streaks with a 5K word deck will not let me forget it. It can be used on desktop or on your phone as an app. If you need a replacement for a language learning app, this is one of them. Justin Sung has a lot of great info on how to best utilize Anki (as does Refold). It's not my favorite, but it could be yours!

LingQ: "But I thought you said language apps are bad!" In isolation, yes. Sorry for the clickbait. This one is pretty good, and more interested in immersing you in the language than selling a subscription to allow you to freeze your streak so the number goes up.

Grammar Textbooks: For self-taught learning, these are going to be the best resource since it's focused on the hardest part of the language, and only that. If you're tired of seeing group work activities, look for a textbook that is just on grammar (Modern Mandarin Chinese Grammar is my rec for Chinese, and A Guide to Japanese Grammar by Tae Kim is the most common/enthusiastic rec I've heard for Japanese).

Shadowing: Simply repeat what you hear. Matt vs Japan talks about his setup here for optimized shadowing (which you can probably build for a lot cheaper now), but it can also just be you watching a video and pausing to repeat after each sentence or near simultaneously if you're able.

Youtube: Be it "Short Story for Beginners", "How to use X", "250 Essential Phrases", or a GRWM in your target language, Youtube is the best. Sometimes you have to dig to find what works for you, but I imagine there is something for everyone at every level. (Pro tip: People upload textbook audio dialogues often, you don't even have to buy the textbook to be able to learn from it!)

A Friend: Be it a fellow learner, or someone who has already mastered the language, it is easier when you have someone, not only to speak to, but to remind you why you're doing this. I write far more in Chinese because I have friends I can text in Chinese.

Pen and Paper: Study after study, writing on paper continues to be the best method for memorization. Typing or using a pen and tablet still can't compare to traditional methods.

The Replies (Probably): Lots of people were happy to give alternatives for specific languages in the replies of my DL post. The community here is pretty active, so if this post blows up at least 20% of what the last one did, you might be able to find some great stuff in the replies and reblogs.

I wish you all the best~

[dc418writes]

Trial & Error

Summary🪄: Joel tries to help you get some rest

🚨: no outbreak!Joel, minor age gap (reader is late 20s, Joel is mid 30s), AU with no Sarah (pls don’t hate me 🫣) pretty much all fluff💕

A/N🎤: this is my submission to @beefrobeefcal ‘s Married Joel Sat on Me challenge (please check out the other works and/or submit your own if you’d like☺️!), and I hope you guys like what I came up with✨

*DISCLAIMER!: I DO NOT CLAIM OWNERSHIP of pictures used as they were all found via Pinterest. Although my writings are imagined with a black reader, anyone can read and enjoy😌*

“Baby,” Joel drawls in that deep voice smooth like silk that always makes you melt, “you should be sleeping.” His lips sweetly press against your forehead after carefully tilting your head back so your doe eyes would be on him.

He wasn’t surprised to see your silhouette through the front curtains as his black pickup pulled in the driveway. The living room illuminated with flashes of blue as you watched something he couldn’t quite tell - if he had to guess, probably one of baby Morgan’s favorite shows you tended to play so she could calm down.

It had been a bit of a habit now with your newfound insomnia. And having to take care of a sick five-month-old while being under the weather yourself didn’t help.

“I’m not tired though.” Even upside down, it was obvious to see the exhaustion in those pretty features that had him addicted from the first time he saw you. The darkened puffiness under your eyes. The dull look to your usually bright skin.

“But you need sleep. The past couple days you’ve only been gettin three, maybe four hours.” Although calm, you could feel his concern. Knew he was stressed that his two girls were dealing with things he couldn’t seem to help with. Especially not with this new house taking up all his time.

“I don’t know what else to do.” You sigh, leaning your head on his shoulder as he sits beside you draping his arm around the back of the dark sectional. Any other time, his overall presence along with the warmth emanating from his wood and leather scented skin would have you relaxed enough that you could easily find rest. Now it was just one of a long list of futile attempts.

“Wanna try those sleep gummies again?”

“I think my body’s used to it since it didn’t work that first night.”

His deep hum rumbles under your fingertips on his sternum. “Tea?”

You shake your head, “Being sick made me all tea’d out. Plus I think the chamomile’s gone.”

“Could always try warm milk?,” he suggests with a slight grin. He already knew your answer, but he loved watching your cute, button nose crinkle in disgust.

“I’d rather be knocked over the head,” you answer making your husband deeply chuckle. “Let’s face it, this is just how things are for now. I’ve tried pretty much everything.”

Joel wasn’t one to easily accept defeat though thanks to his stubborn nature.

“I uh was talkin’ about it with a buddy on the job. He mentioned something about a..weighted blanket? Said it works for his kid so I tried to find one at the store, but the lady said they’re all out for now.”

Tilting your head up, a soft smile curls along your lips meeting Joel’s cocoa gaze focused on you. It shouldn’t be anything surprising at this point of your relationship, - being together for three years and married for two - but you can’t help how your heart flutters at how caring he could be. If a certified cure was revealed today or tomorrow, you know he’d make a way to be the first in line.

Leaning forward, you peck his lips once before moving to his bearded jaw, “Thank you for trying.”

His mouth finds yours again easily sliding your hips, with his thick hands, to sit across his lap making you giggle between each nip and press of your lips against his. “I’ll stop by tomorrow to check again. Try that other store across town too.”

As if feeling left out from all the love, Morgan first whimpers then cries from her nursery just off from the living room. You mentally groan dreading how long it’ll take to get her back to sleep.

“I got her,” Joel states leaving a last kiss on your forehead. “You try to rest.”

“No it’s okay, I got her. Plus I’ll have to check her temp-,”

His hands only tighten on your hips preventing you from standing. “Baby I can do it. Relax.”

“What if she’s hungry?”

“I can warm a bottle.”

“I can at least help though,” you pout trying to wiggle free. Instead, you’re manhandled to lie down with your husband sitting on your lower back and butt pressing you into the plush cushions. Turning your upper body as much as you could, your eyebrows slightly furrow in shock and amusement while Joel just crosses his arms as if you’re now permanently part of the furniture. “J-Joel! Wha-?”

“Ya left me no choice. It was the only way I could get you to stay.”

“By crushing me with your big ass?!”

You could be so dramatic. “Hey, this big ass is your fault,” he laughs. “Fillin’ me up with all that food and pastries.”

Marriage had been good to Joel. His mental health and financial stability had improved, and he seemed overall a happier person. The only drawback seemed to be the effect it had on his waistline. His once toned abdomen now a pleasant pouch and thighs a bit thicker causing him to go up a size in his jeans - and even then they still hugged tight.

Not that you minded. You loved Joel’s new ‘dad bod’ just as much as his more slender form. Sometimes even more as you watched him get ready for work or walk around in his sweatpants as he carried and played with Morgan. If it wasn’t for your current situation, you might even be pregnant with baby number two you were so attracted to him.

“Sure, it’s my fault and not that burger and fries you get every day for lunch,” you playfully huff trying to shimmy your way from his hold.

He slightly tilts his head from left to right knowing you had a point, “Alright fair.” Eventually, you finally submit to the fact you weren’t leaving letting your arms extend in front of you. And dare you say, it even began to feel comfortable. “Now, if I get up I trust you’re gonna stay here?”

“Yes seeing that my back is broken,” you reply rolling your eyes. That earns you a warning - yet always playful - smack to the back of your thigh as he stands now leaving you to the cold, open air. “Good girl. I’ll be right back.”

The softest of smiles forms of your lips rolling onto your back to watch him happily stride to tend to his baby girl. “Hey love bug! How ya feelin huh?” Her cries instantly silence into hiccups as soon as she’s lifted to lie on his chest. She even babbles as if having a full conversation while he presses the back of his hand to her forehead. “No fever that’s good.”

A certain, familiar smell clues Joel to what the issue is though. “We gotta get this diaper off you babygirl,” he states moving to lie her on the changing table. “That’ll make you feel better right?” It’s like she understands every word reaching her chubby arms up with a short giggle. They grow into excited squeals as Joel takes turns blowing raspberries onto her bare stomach and tickling that spot under her chin between cleaning her up with baby wipes.

Such a daddy’s girl through and through.

It takes maybe ten minutes more of coos mixed with rocking and bouncing before Joel has her asleep again; carefully lowering her into her crib for the night. ‘Twinkle Twinkle Little Star’ playing on a low, constant loop from her star projector to make sure she stays that way as he eases out her room and shuts the door behind him.

His ebony eyes are trained on you now padding the short distance to the couch and leaning over your body. That one curl at the top of his head tipping forward. “Alright, your turn princess.”

You only lift your arms with a smile letting him lift you over his broad shoulder to carry you down the hall to your shared bedroom. Luckily you’re already in your pajamas when you gently flop against the brown comforter. He leaves you to get comfortable - shifting under the covers and wiggling to find that sweet spot - while he discards his clothes in the bathroom to shower and brush his teeth.

In a few minutes, he’s appearing through the misty doorway with wet almond strands still trying to dry and a pair of black boxer briefs over his hips. The little “ooh” that slips from your lips as he slides into bed makes him furrow his brows in confusion while you twist to lie on your stomach reaching back to pat your bottom. “I got an idea.”

“Yeah?,” he smirks wetting his bottom lip. “We definitely haven’t tried that before.”

“Jesus, get your mind out the gutter. I mean crush me again,” you laugh.

Although he scoffs in faux offense, he still does as you say positioning himself so half his body covers yours and long leg nearly straddles your back. His nose mere centimeters from yours blowing steady streams of air as you practically share your pillow. “What’s your plan here?”

“Well, until we find one, I was thinking..maybe you could be my weighted blanket,” you shyly explain. “I know it’s probably dumb, but earlier-,”

“Worth a try,” Joel winks closing the small gap to peck your nose then lips. His fingertips tracing soothing lines back and forth along your neck.

For a while, you both just lied there talking about your respective days or whatever came to mind. Around one in the morning, Joel could see your blinks become slower and slower until it was an apparent struggle to keep your eyes open. Your words even beginning to slur and answers sound like adorable nonsense.

You hadn’t even realized you eventually drifted off until the next morning when you were woken up by Morgan’s cries through the monitor. The sun shining a bright golden hue through the crack in the curtains.

A note on the nightstand is the first to catch your attention - clearly written by your husband from the tilted and slightly mushed together handwriting - making you tiredly smile.

‘Glad to see you got some rest xx’

[fake-bleach]

omg omg loved the derek fic so much, i’ll be anxiously waiting for part two ❤️🫶🏻

million dollar man | derek danforth x reader - part 2

thank you so much anon!!! so glad you liked it! :') hope you enjoy this part! <3

word count: 3.5k

warnings/disclaimers: (18+ only!) fem!reader (no use of y/n), one reference to being high, use of pet names (baby, sweetheart, girl, etc), making out/kissing, hickeys on reader, explicit consent, descriptive fingering & oral (f receiving), overstimulation (in a way), filthy dirty talk, praise w/ hardly any degradation, established control by derek, tiny bit angsty, cute fluff w/ a happy ending <3

for the biggest derek fucker i know, @sugarevans: i hope you love it just as much as i loved writing it for you 🤍

ao3 link | masterlist

read part 1 here! a lot of things might not make sense if you haven't :)

You never thought you’d ever be in this position.

Making out with Derek Danforth; hands gripping every inch of your body, high out of your mind, is something most wouldn’t ever imagine doing.

Yet, here you were, doing just that.

And hell, was it better than you ever imagined.

His lips were like fire on yours, burning you up and up the more he hungered for your kiss and touch. He was eager; desperate to taste you and everything you had to offer, something that he’s wanted for as long as he could remember.

Ever since he first saw you, he knew what he wanted, and now that he could finally have it? Nothing was stopping him.

“D-Derek,” You gasped once his lips pulled away from yours, giving you a second to breathe as your back pressed into the luxurious couch, his body on top of you, “You’re okay with this, right?”

You wanted to make sure, despite how eager you were yourself. You couldn’t help but overthink it, fighting between not wanting to give yourself to the selfish man in front of you, and wanting to give yourself up completely.

Now, all of those months convincing yourself that you didn’t want him were for nothing.

And, God, were you fucking okay with that.

He gave you a grin, letting out a small chuckle as he shook his head, almost as if you were crazy for even asking him that. “Been waiting for this forever, baby.. ‘Course I fucking am,” He breathed out, pressing kisses on your lips that slowly began to trail downwards; to your cheek, your jaw, then your neck, sending chills throughout your entire body.

You were sensitive when it came to his touch, and along with his kisses, his wandering hands couldn’t help but feel for every single part of you. One of his forearms held him up, keeping him steady as the other reached for your jaw, lifting your head up so he could have more access to your skin.

You shuddered at the feeling of his soft lips on your neck, forcing a light moan out of your mouth as he started to suck and lick, warning you of a feeling that was all too familiar.

You breathed heavily, letting out a small, “Wait,” as you attempted to relax. “I c-can’t.. go out like that if you.. do that,” You protested, hoping he understood what you meant.

And that, he did.

He pulled away for a split second, eyes looking up at you as he asserted himself confidently, the same Derek you’ve always known. “Yeah, you can, baby. Need to make sure everyone knows you’re mine now. That clear?”

You lick your lips, opening your mouth to protest again, but you don’t get very far. He tuts his tongue, expressing his disapproval as the action forces your mouth shut, “Nuh uh. You’re gonna let me do this, sweetheart. Been waiting too long now,” The hand on your jaw grips it just enough to make you focus on him, “Do I make myself clear?” He says, pausing with each word to enunciate it.

You nod immediately, every ounce of resistance you had in you disappearing as butterflies filled your stomach.

Normally, you’d put up a fight and maybe even walk out of a circumstance like this; But, you’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t like this side of him.

The Derek that just takes and takes. Nothing you can say no to, and willingly, you’d allow.

“Need to hear you,” He instructs, voice stern as his eyes lock into yours. Derek may be the type to always want control, but he wouldn’t ever do anything you weren’t completely okay with.

You exhale softly and nod again, complying, “Crystal clear.” Your eyes flicker from his lips, lingering there for a moment before finding his eyes again, “Make me yours.”

The strict expression on his lips immediately shifts into a smirk, those words giving him every ounce of motivation to finish what he started.

He pushes himself up for a second and presses one long kiss to your lips, filthy and passionate as ever, muttering, “That’s my girl,” before finding himself back on your neck, doing exactly what he’s intended to do for months.

With your heavy breaths and gasps of his name filling his ears, he accomplishes the task easily; leaving a trail of hickeys all around your neck and cleavage, hands gripping your tits through your shirt. The swelling of the marks that his lips captivate leave you wanting more.

More than just his lips.

You take the chance to stop him, gently pushing his head away as you whine softly, “Need more, Derek.”

He shushes you, nearly reading your mind as he begins to lower himself, keeping eye contact with you. He lifts your shirt up as he moves, exposing your stomach to press kisses along the skin, until he finally reaches the one spot he’s fantasized about for so long.

The action and the thought of what he might do to you leaves your body shuddering, anticipating his next move. You’d let him do anything he wanted now.

He slowly unbuttons your pants, taking his time as if his eyes were memorizing every second of it. You help him slip them off, lifting your hips so he can easily remove them, the cool air in the room hitting your exposed skin. You feel yourself grow wetter, desperate for him to do something, anything to you.

He takes no time to waste putting your pants aside, kneeling in between your thighs and spreading your legs. His gaze flickers from your face down to your panties, chest moving up and down as he processes the sight in front of him; your darkening eyes, legs wide open for him. 

Oh, what a beauty you are.

You await his next move, biting your bottom lip as you feel your core tighten, and he finally moves; taking his hand and sliding his fingers over your clothed cunt just for a second, feeling you for the first time. You shudder, gasping at his touch as your arousal seeps through your panties. You’re growing impatient, squirming with need.

“F-Fuck, Derek, touch me, please,” You whine, hips moving a bit to get any type of friction. He just presses down on your stomach, keeping you still as he tuts. “Shh, baby. Gonna take my fuckin’ time with you. Make you feel real good, yeah?” He states, using his other hand to cup it over your cunt.

It makes you gasp, body shaking from the sudden contact again. You press your lips together, quickly nodding as you accept his terms. You couldn’t possibly say no, anyways.

“Now,” He pauses, “Close that pretty mouth of yours n’ take what I give you,” He mutters sternly, but he isn’t done. “I’m gonna tell you what I’m gonna do to you, and you’re gonna be a good girl for me. Is that right?” He asks, fingers rubbing ever so softly against you.

You nod, shakily agreeing as you hold back from moving, “T-That’s right.”

He grins. “Good. You’re real pretty when you listen to me.”

You breathe shakily, stomach fluttering from his words and watching as he lowers to lay himself directly in between your thighs, hands now gripping them with his head facing you.

“Am I not when I don’t?” You retort, taking your chance to bite back.

He chuckles, “You know you’re more than pretty, baby.. I just like you like this more.”

You wouldn’t expect any less from him and his need for you.. And, if anything? It makes you want to be more like this for him.

“Giving yourself up to me..” He hums, caressing your thigh sensually and slowly, eyes devouring you, “Now, doesn’t that feel so much better?”

Before you can respond, his thumb slides from your inner thigh to slip underneath your panties, feeling for your slick slit as you hiss at the sudden contact, skin to skin. Fuck, he was unpredictable.

You gasp softly, walls involuntarily clenching around nothing. The way he was talking to you.. It was driving you crazy.

“No more talking back, no more excuses.. Now that I got you like this, honey. Just how it should be.. How you’re meant to be.” He continues, making your heart race. You were giving yourself up to him the more he spoke; the more he made you realize just how much you needed him, too.

The powerful, superior version of yourself.. crumbling all by the hands of the man who wants to see you break.

“Here’s what’s gonna happen, sweetheart..” He tells you, eyes on your face as his thumb slides through your folds, “’M gonna eat you out and make you cum on my tongue..”

The tip of his thumb sinks inside of you, forcing a moan out of your mouth. You need more, breathing heavily as you process his words, envisioning all the things he’s putting inside of your head.

“And then, I’m gonna do it.. Again, and again, until you can’t anymore.”

His thumb then slips out of you, moving and using his fingers to hook itself at the hem of your panties, pulling them off of you roughly. It’s quick and seamless, leaving you completely exposed for him, legs spread wide enough for him to fix on your glistening core immediately.

His fingers glide in between your throbbing lips, soaked beyond your control as he grunts at the sight and feeling. “Fuck yeah, baby.. So fuckin’ wet, shit.”

He can hardly control himself, slowly inserting two of his thick, long fingers inside of you, the lewd sound coaxing a laugh out of his throat. He pumps his fingers deliberately, eyes indecisive on where to linger; your face or your cunt. He picks the latter, gaze fixed on your walls gripping his digits, memorizing the way you take them, squelching and slick with your arousal.

Your pants drive his movements faster, moaning his name softly as your core tightens each time his fingers slowly begin to fill you to the hilt, knuckle-deep inside of you. 

You whine loudly, incoherent noises escaping your lips as you look down at him, squirming. “There we go, baby.. Look at how good you’re takin’ it.. pretty pussy begging for more.” He praises, taking his sweet time to pull his fingers out of you, watching how your hole closes from how empty you are.

Before you can register the feeling, he leans forward, sticking out his tongue to lick a stripe against your folds, the tip of it hitting your swollen clit. It makes your body jolt, the shock of the sensation igniting your nerves. It’s been a long fucking time since you’ve felt this good.

He moans out, breath hitting your cunt as it sends shivers down your spine. “Tastes fuckin’ good, baby.. Gonna fuck you with my tongue now, yeah?” He mutters, words hardly coherent enough for you before he latches his mouth around your clit, sucking it softly. 

You cry out at the feeling, involuntarily squirming away as it overwhelms you. He was so fucking quick; desperate and needy. Before you could pull away from him, his arms wrap around your thighs, roughly pulling you close. He traps you with his hold, tongue now exploring your folds and devouring you like a starved man.

“Derek! O-Oh, fuck!” You groan, shutting your eyes tightly as your body overtakes you, short and quick breaths filling his ears. You feel him chuckle, sending small vibrations through your core as he slides his tongue inside of your hole, thrusting it in and out of you. His thumb then moves up to your clit, rubbing slow, deliberate circles against it, wanting to feel you shake.

And, you do, as your walls clench around his tongue, body writhing hastily, overwhelmed with pleasure and that familiar build growing inside of you. Your hand reaches for his hair, gripping the bleached locks that give you a single ounce of control.

Your grasp allows you to push his face further into your cunt, grinding yourself against his mouth as you chase your high, crying his name out as if it were the only word you knew. Your stomach fills with warmth, breaths quickening as you cum shakily on his tongue without any warning.

You moan out his name one last time, convulsing around him as you increasingly grow sensitive, releasing your grip on his hair. He doesn’t let up though, and your nerves gradually become delicate, forcing a whine out of you; a protest. “N-No.. No more, Derek, fuck, I c-can’t, please.” You stammer out, trying to writhe away from his grasp.

He only takes a second to pull away from you, shaking his head disapprovingly as he pulls you back to him, reestablishing his grasp on your thighs even tighter than before.

He looks up at you, eyes hungry for more, “That was only one, honey. Not enough. C’mon, know you can give me another, yeah.. Just one more..” He encourages you, using one of the hands wrapped around your thigh to give it small rubs, soothing your trembling body.

Your body involuntarily twitches, overstimulated from your first orgasm and the continuous contact on your skin. You just nod at him though, letting out a small “okay” so he can verbally hear it; something you’re starting to know that he likes from you.

He grins up at you, evidently satisfied at your actions. “There we go, you’re getting it now.. Such a good fucking girl.”

His praises cause your face to heat up, his approval of you becoming the one thing you never thought you’d need from him.

Turns out, you’re finding out a lot of things about yourself tonight that you didn’t know.

You take a deep breath in preparation, watching one of his arms unrestrain your thigh, hand moving towards your core. He glances back to your face, then to your pussy, pressing the tip of his index and middle finger to your entrance. You watch his face as he licks his lips, pressing them in slowly, almost excruciatingly slow.

You whine, the force of his fingers making your walls constrict around them, and your heart beats rapidly everywhere. You’re still tight, and he can feel it too.

He lets out a laugh as his eyes flicker to your face to watch it twist, and it feels mean. “You’re still so fucking tight, holy shit,” He chuckles again, fingers pulling out of you to rest against your hole, and shoving it back in deliberately. You cry out his name, incoherent words spilling out of your lips as you squirm away from him again.

He mutters out, “No, no, no, stay here, baby, come on,” and his large arm reaches to grip your waist, pulling you back to him once again. His forearm stays against your stomach now, pinning you into the couch so you can’t possibly move away. “Yeah, yeah, there y’go.” He draws out.

“Just gotta let yourself go, sweetheart.. Don’t fight it, c’mon..”

Your eyes shut tightly, and you listen to him, letting yourself go. The control in your body begins to fade, and he takes it as a sign to continue; fucking his thick fingers back into your cunt with an increasing pace and force.

You feel so full with him, but just as you think that, he adds a third finger, stretching you out further as he quickens his thrusts.

The lewd noises fill the room, your soaked folds flowing onto his hand and growing louder the faster he moves. Your pussy takes his fingers eagerly, engulfing them seamlessly. “Wish you could see what I’m seein’, honey.. Your cunt gripping every inch of my fucking fingers, fuck, so fuckin’ pretty. Doing so good, baby, I know it feels so good, huh?” His words are too much for you, along with his fingers moving so fast from how soaked you were. 

They start to pound into that one spot inside of you that has you seeing stars, and you convulse around them, body twitching, but hardly affecting Derek from his harsh grip on you. It keeps you still for him, never stopping his moves as he lets out whispers of encouragement to you, praising you absentmindedly and breathing heavily against your cunt.

“Yeah, yeah, give it to me, baby, cum on my fucking fingers, please.” He whines out, his hips grinding against the couch, almost as if he was getting off to your own pleasure. You shake against him, chest heaving up and down as that heat in your core builds and builds, finally releasing as you climax with his name on your tongue.

You nearly scream it, unable to control yourself as your eyes roll to the back of your head, your walls clenching around his fingers over and over again uncontrollably. He stops his movements now, letting you come down from it slowly, pulling his fingers out of you as you tremble.

As you take deep breaths, heartbeat slowing, you flutter your eyes open to look at Derek, watching as he inserts his fingers in his mouth to taste you. He pulls them out with a pop and moves himself to lay over you, using his clean hand to move your hair out of your face.

He praises you, pressing a small kiss to your forehead with his eyes looking at you with so much pride. “Did so fucking good for me, baby. Knew you could do it, fuck yeah.” He hums, now pressing a kiss to your lips.

You accept it greedily, placing your hands on his chest, wanting to be as close to him as possible. Your feelings for him were overwhelming; one night of pleasure causing you to confront every thought & emotion you’ve ever had of him. And the way he was treating you now? God, it made it even harder for you to feel subtle about it.

And, maybe.. Just maybe.. it was because he was the best fuck you’ve ever had.

But, despite how sensitive you were, you couldn’t help but want more. And besides, you wanted him to feel good too, after bringing you so much satisfaction.

“Thank you, Derek.. B-But, what about you?” You asked shakily, body still trembling from your peak. He shook his head, caressing your face gently as he spoke, “Nah, baby, this was all about you.. It’s always been.. about you. To make you feel good.”

You let out a small laugh and shook your head yourself, in denial of it all. Did he really care for you this much?

Before you can ask him anything, he continues, spilling out every ounce of vulnerability he could allow himself to. “Took my chance after waiting all these months. I couldn’t just let myself be so.. selfish.. Not this one time.. Yeah?” He cocked his head, trying to see if you understood or not. He seemed almost jittery; nervous and anxious to even be telling you this.

You knew he was taking such a big leap to be telling you these things.. To be acting this way. 

It didn’t go unnoticed by you at all.

You took the chance to joke with him, trying to ease the tension in the room. “Derek Danforth.. Not.. being selfish? Never thought I’d see the day.” You giggled, hoping he’d take it how you intended it to.

His head lowers to look down at your hands on him for a second, licking his lips as he takes his time to think about what to say to you. He takes a deep breath, looking back up at you as he sighs out.

“I’m trying..” He pauses, inhaling sharply, “Not.. to be.”

Your smile fades from your face, lips parting as you take in his words. It hits you, making you realize just how much he’s trying.

“At least.. Not with you, baby,” He purses his lips, swallowing, “Don’t wanna be selfish with you.. Not.. not anymore.”

You give him a small, gentle smile, nodding slowly in hopes to encourage him. You want him to open up to you; it’s all you’ve ever wanted from him.

“Derek, I..” You start, but he cuts you off.

“I know I.. I’ve been an asshole, to everyone, to you.. But, I don’t wanna be the guy.. That doesn’t deserve you anymore,” He admits quickly, almost wanting to rush it out before he bails out on it.

“I-I.. want to be the guy that does.”

He finally confesses it.. the one thing that’s been holding him down; the one thing that he’s finally managed to realize.

It wasn’t just you that captivated him.

It was the drive to change for you that did.

You let out a relieving breath, shutting your eyes as you press a passionate, genuine kiss on his lips. He takes it gratefully, sighing into your mouth as if the weight of the entire world was lifted off his shoulders.

You pull away from him, grinning as your glazed eyes glimmer at him.

“That’s a start, baby.. You’re already a mile ahead of that.” You tell him, honest and real; vulnerable yourself.

Maybe, Derek Danforth was more than capable of change.

Maybe.. Derek Danforth wasn’t so selfish after all.

Now, it was your chance to find out.

-

a/n: thank you so much for reading! i loved writing this and i might add onto it when writing for derek again to stay in this little world! :)

feedback & reblogs are always greatly appreciated <3

[lechrts]

Hiii, can you do a angsty franco drabble if you haven't already ❤️

Worldwide. ✷ Franco Colapinto

Pairing: Franco Colapinto x reader

Summary: When you and him say your final goodbyes.

Word Count: 1.7k

Disclaimer/s: angst,,,,, i fear…… I….

Vera’s Voice! i think this came out alright… kinda boof ngl…. i’m So iffy when writing angst because i cant. HOPE I DID U JUSTICE THO!!! thank u for requesting ^_^

The airport was a blur of noise and movement, the hum of conversations blending with the echoes of overhead announcements.

But in that moment, everything felt like it was happening in slow motion. The world was moving around you, but you were frozen in place, standing in front of Franco with a heart that felt like it was being torn in two.

“You didn’t have to walk me in,” You said softly, trying to sound casual, but your voice wavered at the end.

“I wanted to,” Franco replied, his voice low and thick with something you couldn’t quite name. He shifted your duffel bag from one shoulder to the other, his hands restless, unsure of what to do with them.

It was as though every movement was an attempt to keep himself grounded, to stop from falling apart.

You had known this day would come.

You had known that the distance, the different directions your lives were headed in, would pull you apart eventually.

But even so, the reality of it—the fact that this was really happening—still felt like a punch to the gut.

You both walked in silence, past the shops and through the busy crowds, heading toward the international line for the security checkpoint.

There was so much to say, but the words got stuck in your throat. Every time you opened your mouth, it felt like you were going to break.

“I’m really gonna miss you,” Franco finally said, his voice soft, like he was trying to keep the sorrow hidden.

The words hit you harder than you expected. You had tried so hard to prepare for this moment, but nothing could have prepared you for the sting of hearing him say it.

“I’m gonna miss you too,” You managed to whisper, your heart aching as you forced a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes.

He looked at you, his gaze full of unspoken emotion, and it nearly broke you.

Franco was always the one with the answers, the one who knew how to navigate the chaos of the world.

But right now, you could see the uncertainty in his eyes—the same uncertainty you felt swirling in your chest.

“I don’t want this to be the end,” He said, his voice rough. “I don’t want to lose you.”

Your chest tightened, the words he spoke pulling at something deep inside you. “You’re not losing me,” you whispered. “We’re just… we’re just in different places. Our lives are going in different directions, and we can’t keep pretending they’re not.”

The truth hung in the air, heavy and painful, like a weight that neither of you could escape.

Franco stopped walking, his eyes searching yours for something, anything that could change the situation. “I know,” he said, his voice breaking. “But it’s hard. So hard to let go of you.”

Your throat closed up, and you forced yourself to swallow past the lump. “I know,” You repeated, your voice barely a whisper. “It’s hard for me too.”

But you knew deep down that this was the right choice, even though every part of you wanted to deny it.

The love between you was undeniable, it had always been there, but it wasn’t enough anymore. The timing was wrong.

The distance—both physical and emotional—was too much to overcome.

“I can’t ask you to wait for me,” He said quietly, his gaze dropping to the ground for a moment.

“But I will.” You said quickly, stepping closer to him. You reached out, brushing your fingers over his arm. “This was never about you holding me back. You’ve always supported me, even when it was hard.”

“But it’s not fair,” He said, his voice thick with emotion. “You deserve someone who can be there for you all the time, not just when I have a few days off. You deserve someone who doesn’t disappear for months at a time.”

The lump in your throat grew, threatening to swallow you whole. “And you deserve someone who won’t make you feel guilty for chasing your dreams, Franco. You’re doing something amazing with your life.”

He reached for your hand then, his fingers brushing against yours, as if he was trying to hold on to you, to something that felt real before it slipped through his fingers.

He stepped closer, cupping your face in his hands, his thumb brushing away a tear.

And then he kissed you.

It wasn’t a desperate kiss, or a goodbye full of false promises.

It was soft, slow, and devastating.

It was filled with every ounce of love you still had for each other, with all the things you wished you could have said but didn’t have the words for.

When he pulled away, his forehead rested against yours for a moment, his breathing uneven. “You’ll always mean everything to me,” He whispered.

You nodded, your hands clinging to his jacket as if letting go would make it all too real. “And you to me.”

He stepped back then, his hands slipping out of yours, and the absence of his touch felt like a piece of you had been torn away.

“So, this is it?” You ask. Tears welling in your eyes as he handed over your bag.

“This is it.” His voice confirmed although it sounded like he didn’t want to say it. His eyes were glued to you before he glanced up and gazed at the security line awaiting you.

“You should go.” He finally said. The tears in his eyes now falling.

“Yeah.” You nod, your lips trembling.

“I love you,” He whispered, the words so quiet, so raw, they felt like they were tearing him apart.

“I love you too,” You said, tears finally slipping from your eyes. It was a confession you’d known for so long, a truth you had carried with you through everything.

And with those words, he nodded and briefly smiled to himself before he looked at you again and watched you walk off.

Your figure grew smaller with every step.

He stayed rooted to his spot, your hands gripping your bag, as if that could somehow hold you together.

When you reached the line, you glanced back one last time. His eyes met yours across the distance, and even from afar, you could see the tears glistening in them.

And then he turned.

You knew this was the right decision, the logical choice.

But logic didn’t make it hurt any less.

Loving him had been the greatest thing you’d ever known.

Letting him go was the hardest.

And as you walked toward your gate, alone, the only thing you could do was hope that someday, somehow, your paths would cross again.

But that was sadly, not aligned for the foreseeable future.

likes, comments, & reblogs are appreciated! ^_^ and just lmk if you wanna be apart of my permanent tag list!!!

tags! @planetpedri @halfwayhearted @wdcbox @freyathehuntress @iovepoem @piastri-vfx

[musicalmoritz]

Good Femslash Fics Already Exist

With the whole push for more femslash in fandoms, I’ve never understood the amount of hate I see femslash “fans” direct towards existing creations. There’s nothing wrong with wanting more variety, I do too, but every time someone brings up the fact that femslash fan fictions are already being written someone opens their mouth to say “yeah but those suck.” And then they proceed to read 300+ atrociously mischaracterized mlm fics. They complain abt plotless fluff and then read the exact same pwp scenarios over and over again

And hey, if you don’t want to read femslash that’s totally fine. You don’t have to pretend it interests you. I’m someone who actively looks for femslash and my only problem has been a lack of content in smaller/male-dominated fandoms, the fics themselves are cute af. Ya’ll are missing out on some real masterpieces by labeling all existing femslash fics as “boring,” some of my favorite fics ever are femslash. If an mlm ship invades the tags just filter it out, filter out every mlm pairing in the fandom if you have to. AO3 gives us that option for a reason

I’m not saying we don’t need more variety, but we’re not going to get that by shitting on writers who actively put in the work to make more femslash. When I started writing femslash consistently it was very discouraging because I’d seen soooooo many people online saying they want more femslash fics, yet nobody was reading mine. Then I looked at the stats on other femslash fics and they were the same, really great fics were barely getting any hits or kudos. It kinda sucks knowing that an mlm fic I wrote in 3 hours got more kudos than a wlw fic I spent months on (for pairings of relatively equal popularity). This seems to be the biggest roadblock for people wanting to write femslash, no one supports it. Even tho fandoms claim they would support it, they never do. It’s something I’ve learned to stop caring about but not every writer is gonna push through

This brings me back to a comment I saw about “boring, hair-braidy wlw fics.” That description really stood out to me, and to this day it makes me feel a little self-conscious about my old femslash fics that were “boring” and “hair-braidy.” But then I came across a fic for this one pairing that had actual hair-braiding. It was incredibly well-written and meaningful, exploring how both characters struggled to ask for help but they were able to recognize each other’s dilemmas and help in subtle ways. They did this, of course, by fixing each other’s hair when they both felt helpless to do anything with it. Such a simple way to express a very deep bond. This made me reassess the way people talk about femslash fics, and the way I’d been thinking of them myself. Is fluff really that much of a crime?? Do all cottagecore-type fics really have no substance?? Do femslash fics have to copy exactly what slash fics are doing, or are they allowed to have their own tropes??

My attitude towards the overload of plotless fluff wlw fics is “this is a good starting point.” We need more people writing femslash, more variety in what is written, but that doesn’t mean what we have is bad. I critique wlw fic tropes a lot but I always give the disclaimer that I actually love the fics themselves, I just want to see more of a different thing. And I comment on every femslash fic I read (every fic I read in general but especially femslash), I try to leave something thoughtful to let the writer know I appreciate the effort they put into their work. You’d be surprised how many writers said they were encouraged to update a fic or write more femslash because of a positive comment I left them. Engaging with fics will give you more of a good thing. It has so much more influence than that video you’re about to make talking about how there’s no good femslash fics. When you say things like that it actually discourages people from writing, and makes them feel bad about things they’ve already written. Support femslash writers guys, it’s sexy

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

Idk if you write for them but what about a todoroki and Deku going on a blind date with a Chubby reader🤔 (btw miss ma’am you dropped this 🤲🏾👑)

Your Kind of Men (poly!bi!pro!TodoDeku x Chubby!Black!Fem!Reader SFW One Shot) [REQUEST FILL]

Pairing: Izuku "Deku" Midoriya x Shoto Todoroki x Chubby!Black!Fem!Reader

Synopsis: In which you go on a blind date set up by your friend and her pro hero partners, not realizing that you're about to get your chance to meet some pros yourself who are highly interested in having a third...and they hope that it's you.

Warnings: AgedUp!TodoDeku (they're in their late 20s-early 30s); Bisexual!TodoDeku; Polyamory; Sexual Fantasies; Flirting; Reader is Black, Fem & Plus-Sized (but anyone can still read this)

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Writer's Note: Thank you for getting my crown for me, babe!! I hope you enjoy this! It's pretty tame except for the sex thoughts lol. Enjoy! -xoxo, Jazz 💋💋

********

“I don’t know how I feel about this, girl,” you sigh into the phone, staring down at your cocktail. “You didn’t even tell me what they do! What if they’re serial killers or something?” 

You feel a nervous sweat coming on despite the cool air in the fancy restaurant and the spaghetti straps of your dress allowing you to stay cool. You took a shower and added as much deodorant to your pits and jiggly inner thighs as you could because of your paranoia of smelling, but that does nothing to stop you from breaking out in anxious perspiration. 

“Would you stop that?” Your friend complains. “I didn’t tell you about their jobs because I wanted to surprise you! If Bakugou and Kiri know them, trust me: they’re good guys.” 

You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose to avoid an oncoming headache from too much stress. Though the fact that these “guys” are Bakugou aka pro hero Dynamight and Kirishima aka pro hero Red Riot’s longtime buddies, that doesn’t do much to ease your worries or mind. 

”Then they must be fine as fuck ‘cause your boyfriends are!” You groan, earning a giggle from your friend. “It’s not funny! I’m literally having a panic attack and I don’t think this cocktail is helping.” 

You stare down at your Perfect Peach cocktail made with vodka and peach preserves that is supposed to ease your nerves as you sit at the bar waiting for your blind date…or blind dates, rather. 

After further consideration and fantasizing about it for months, you confided in your friend about wanting to try a polyamorous relationship like she has with Bakugou and Kiri. She always seems so happy when she’s with them. You remember a time when you were happy like that with your boyfriend—everyday seemed sunny whenever he called or came to see you. 

But that was a year ago. After a very messy breakup which resulted in him moving away and immediately dating someone else, you did your best to forget him and move on. Getting back into the dating pool was the first step. You recently just started reviving your accounts on dating apps, but so far, none of them have sufficed. 

You often wonder how your friend did it—how she managed to bag not one but two pro heroes. And they’re so hot and sweet! Every time you see their big arms wrapped around your friend or see their smiles directed her way or see them pick her up from your crib and know she’s going to spend her night getting pleasured beyond belief by both of them, you can’t help but be jealous. 

Don’t get it twisted. You’re so happy for your friend! She deserves partners who adore her…but you’d be lying if you said that it didn’t bother you that you don’t have that kind of relationship for yourself. 

Your friend’s calming voice pulls you out of your self-deprecating thoughts. ”Just calm down. It’s going to go great! But if it ever goes sideways or if you really feel like you can’t go through with this, just make some excuse, like I almost burned our crib down. Then you can leave!” 

”I’m not doing that,” you huff. “Your men went through all the trouble of booking this blind date for me. The least I can do is try to get through it.” 

Bakugou and Kiri specifically handpicked your blind dates for you tonight. They barely told you anything about them though. The only thing you know is that they’re friends. “You’ll love ‘em, doll!” Kiri told you. “I promise! These guys are super manly!” 

“They’re whatever,” Bakugou said, which didn’t help you at all. But then again, Bakugou was never good at giving compliments…unless those compliments are directed at your friend. 

“Well, to do that, you’ll have to get out of that head of yours,” your friend critically says. “Girl, you’re always overthinking! You like hot as fuck tonight and your dates will think so to. Just think about how they may even take you home tonight to get a piece of that nice, fat a—“ 

”And I’m hanging up,” you immediately announce, cringing at her hysterical laughter. “I just met the guys and it’s our first date! I’m not gonna—“ 

”Excuse me?” A rather familiar voice you can’t place politely asks you. You turn around, preparing to give this man the boot, but all of the words in your throat die when you get a look at who’s standing behind you. 

He is much taller and hotter in person, your embarrassingly large poster in your bedroom not doing you much justice. His gray vest, slacks, and white button-up shirt are rather tight on his toned body, his pecs and biceps pushing up against the fabric. The cutest freckles adorn his cheeks, almost popping out like a pop-up photo in a children’s book due to how green his hair and eyes are. They remind you of emeralds. 

Izumi Midoriya aka Deku, pro hero #1, in the flesh, is your date tonight. He gives you a kind, toothy smile, his hands behind his back. ”Are you Y/N?” He asks. 

Your mind is frozen in a block of ice, all thoughts and words put on pause. Too stunned to speak, you just nod. “Oh, good!” He sighs, relieved. “I thought I’d gotten the wrong person and embarrassed the hell out of myself!” He sheepishly laughs before passing you a bouquet of the most beautiful pink and yellow roses out from behind him. “For you,” he says, a light blush coating his cheeks. “Shoto picked ‘em. He’ll be in here soon.” 

Shoto. As in Shoto Todoroki pro hero #3. Bakugou is at #2 while Kiri is #4. If all goes well, you and your friend will be living the life dating such popular pro heroes. 

Wordlessly, you take the flowers, but not wanting to look like a crazy woman, you give Deku a smile. You just can’t believe this. You feel like you’re dreaming. “Y/N?” Your friend asks. “Helloooo? You there?” 

Brought back down to reality, you keep your eyes on Deku while you speak into your phone that you remember is pressed to your ear. “I’ve gotta go,” you abruptly say. “M-My dates are here.” Your friend just giggles. “Enjoy,” she sings. “Give me all the details when you get back.” 

Once she hangs up, the door to the restaurant opens. In walks your second date and Shoto is just as tall as Deku. He walks elegantly on long legs, his frame leaner than Deku’s, but muscled and toned. His black suit fits perfectly on him, giving him a dashing look that his long, red-and-white-toned hair tied in a ponytail only adds to. He looks like a damn fairytale prince coming to save you. 

His eyes meet yours and you swear he’s just as gorgeous in person. The burn scar over his eye only adds to his appearance, giving him a very sexy but unique look. He smiles at you and the air is immediately stolen from your plump, soft body. 

“You found her?” He asks, coming over to the bar to meet you. “I’m sorry, I was busy trying to find a parking spot. This restaurant is quite popular.” Deku nods, laughing. “That’s what it said on the website!” He chuckles. 

“Y/N, right?” Shoto asks, his silky voice directed at you. “Pleasure to finally meet you. Your friend told us all about you, but she left out how beautiful you are.” He sticks his hand out for a shake, his ringed fingers making you think of nasty things. You wouldn’t mind them wrapping around your neck or sliding inside of your—

”T-Thank you,” you say, finally finding your voice. You tentatively shake Shoto’s hand, shivering slightly at the wave of electricity you feel coursing through you at his touch. “I know who you are. Y-You’re Deku and Todoroki, pro heroes #1 and #3.” 

The duo share a look, both stunned. A mischievous smile stretches across Shoto’s face. “Someone’s a fan,” he teases. 

Deku rolls his eyes, criticizing his boyfriend. “Don’t tease her, Shoto,” he critically says before turning to you. “That, we are! I hope that doesn’t make you feel uncomfortable. We’re really just normal people…who happen to have quirks.” He looks worried that the fact that they’re famous may make you feel weird, but that isn’t even half of it. How the fuck are you supposed to act normal around such hot men?! 

Swallowing harshly and taking a much-needed sip of your cocktail, you start to feel somewhat confident from the vodka. “Well, it’s nice to meet you both,” you giggle. “Should we sit?” 

Deku offers his hand to help you slide off of the barstool with your drink and flowers. You feel his hand lightly ghost the small of your back and your skin suddenly bursts with warmth like it’s on fire. Your dress only somewhat smooths your back rolls which most men aren’t too fond of. But Deku doesn’t seem to mind.

He leads you over to a table near a window overlooking the sidewalk and decorated with two candles. Shoto takes the chair you’re about to pull out and does it for you. “Please, allow me.” He patiently waits for you to sit down before pushing you in and then taking his seat with Deku across from you. 

Such a gentleman. You love gentlemen. They make your heart pound and your inner thighs clench together to avoid the throbbing sensation you feel already coming. 

The two handsome pros sit across from you, their attractive features illuminated by the candlelight. Luckily, your waitress comes over to get your appetizer orders and fetch the pros drinks before wandering off to put in your orders. 

Shoto clears his throat and is the first to fill the silence. “Sooo, Y/N,” he begins, your name sounding like smooth butter on his lips, “how in the world are you single as pretty as you are?” Heat coats your face at his boldness. You’re not used to receiving such compliments. 

“Shoto!” Deku growls, elbowing Shoto in the arm. “We’ve only known her for, like, five minutes!” Shoto side-eyes his boyfriend. “So you don’t think she’s pretty?” He deadpans, smirking at the bright red blush that coats Deku’s freckled cheeks. 

“You’ve got game,” you giggle, earning a proud smile from Shoto. “Well, I recently decided to start dating again after a breakup a year ago. I missed nights like these, getting dressed up and going out with handsome men.” 

You watch surprise alight in the couple’s eyes that quickly melt into something more intimate and passionate. Because now they know that you’re just as attracted to them as they are to you…so far. The shift makes you feel hot all over and you cross your legs. This is going to be much harder than you thought. 

You shift slightly in your seat, clearing your throat. “S-So what about you two?” You softly stutter. “How long have you two been together? How come you’re looking for a third?” 

The two share a look and then a smile that grinds at your insides. You remember smiling that way at your person–so in love and content. ”Well, after five years of dating, we decided to venture into new experiences,” Deku answers. “We’ve both been interested in having a poly relationship for a while now, so we decided to give it a try.” 

He tells you that he and Shoto met in UA High and were friends at first before slowly becoming more. It’s a story fit for a friends-to-lovers book. Concern laces Shoto’s pretty, multicolored eyes. “And this is still okay with you? Seeing two men at the same time?” 

You want to correct him that they aren’t just any men. They’re pro heroes. Celebrities. They have status and notoriety. You would be hella stupid to say no to this. “Yeah,” you reply. “I’ve never dated two guys at the same time, but it never hurts to try something new.” 

Other than their perks as celebs, their easy-going personalities and warm nature make it especially hard to refuse them, so you feel comfortable saying yes. 

Shoto smiles, pleased with that answer, and raises his glass of red wine. “Cheers to new experiences then.” Deku raises his wine glass while you raise your cocktail before leaning to clink glasses and taking a sip in unison. You feel much better already. 

Deku suddenly gasps, his emerald eyes twinkling in excitement. “You have an All Might keychain too?” He gasps, staring down at your phone. “That’s so cute! I still carry mine around as a lucky charm.” Shoto rolls his eyes at his boyfriend, chuckling into his wine. “He can sit here all night talkin’ ‘bout All Might. Just warning you.” 

You giggle and tell Deku that you bought it at Hot Topic when the store was celebrating All Might’s birthday. A text from your friend asking if you’re okay suddenly pops up on your phone sitting face up on the table. You turn it over to be respectful to your dates but realize too late the phone case underneath. 

There, the chibi versions of Deku, Shoto, and All Might stare back at you. It was a gift from Kiri for your birthday, but now, you want to curse him for giving it to you and yourself for forgetting that it was on the back of your phone. 

Your dates catch it immediately and mirth alights behind their eyes. Shoto smirks at you, stifling his laughter. “You weren’t quick enough for that,” he chuckles. You flush with embarrassment and unbeknownst to you, Shoto adores it. Your skin glows increasingly more in the candlelight, making him want to kiss, suck, and lick every part of your beautiful skin. 

Deku is in the same boat as his boyfriend. He’s been admiring your beauty all night, but unlike Shoto, he isn’t as bold or as brazen, so he instead shifts the conversation to something else to distract him from how tight his slacks have gotten. 

“So you are a fan?” He excitedly gasps. “Wow! I can’t say I’ve ever been on a date with a fan of mine before.” Shoto’s lazily shift to yours, peering deep into you. “Me either.” 

You gnaw on your bottom lip, suddenly ashamed. “I-I’m sorry,” you stammer. “I’ll put it away if it makes you feel weird.” You go to put your phone in your purse, but Shoto’s hand stops you. You pause, your pulse jumping as you feel his long piano fingers brush your knuckles. 

“No, no, don’t,” he protests. “It’s cute. I just wonder out of the two of us which one’s your favorite.” He winks at you with that sapphire blue eye, teasing you. ”Todoroki, come on,” Deku sighs. ”Don’t embarrass her.” 

Maybe it’s the cocktail or the romantic atmosphere or gaining the undivided attention of the two sexy pros sitting across from you, but something inside of you flares up, filling you with confidence. “It’s actually both of you,” you shyly confess. 

The two look at you, stunned. “I’ll admit, I was more of a Dynamight fan until I saw you two with those kids at that charity event for the children’s hospital. I love men who are good with kids.” You flash them a bashful yet endearing smile that makes them throb and ache down below. 

“Ah, I remember that event,” Deku says, reminiscing. “That was a year ago for Christmas.” He suddenly leans in, a secretive smile on his face. “Don’t tell him this, but you definitely wouldn’t be a fan of Dynamight after learning he’s horrible with children.” 

He and Shoto proceed to tell you about when he was forced to dress as an elf for the charity event and he fussed at every kid who instead told him what they wanted for Christmas and tugged on his fake elf ears. “We had to stop him from blowing up the Christmas tree,” Shoto says, watching with adoration as you laugh into your appetizer. 

The waitress finally returns to take your main course orders and refills your water. When she leaves, Deku and Shoto once again give you their attention. “So tell us more about you, Y/N,” Deku says, and your heart somersaults at hearing your name on his lips. 

Despite their laser beam-like gazes in the candlelight and the vodka making you feel slightly unbalanced, you do as they say. 

You talk about anything and everything, starting with your job. You tell them what you studied in school and what you do now for work. Shoto looks impressed while Deku damn near chokes on his appetizer when you tell him ”An assistant at NASA?” He gasps. “That’s amazing! So if we ever fight an alien from a distant planet or something, can we call on you to fix us up with a rocket?” 

It’s a bad joke and you laugh, finding his boyish nature oh-so cute. Shoto rolls his eyes, popping an oyster into his mouth. “Again with the alien talk,” he huffs. You look away to your cocktail, stifling a smile. “You too?” Shoto asks while Deku laughs. “You really believe in those little green men?” 

You smirk at him, pointing at him with your fork. “This is coming from a guy who shoots ice and fire from his hands,” you retort. Shoto is shocked (and turned on) by your wittiness, as is Deku. They like a girl who is playful like that. “Touché,” he replies. 

Once your dinner finally arrives at the table, the convo shifts to food and drinks. Deku is fond of spicy miso ramen and mocktails while Shoto prefers black coffee and soba. You tell them your favorites and non-favorites, resulting in somewhat talking about bubble tea and how you’ve never tried it before. 

Deku looks like you just admitted to murder, pausing mid-bite with his grilled halibut. ”You’ve never tried bubble tea before?” He gasps. “Oh, you’re missing out. It’s literally one of the best creations in the world!” 

Shoto shakes his head, biting into his plank steak. “He’s exaggerating, but it is quite good.” You take a sip of your cocktail, feeling the effects of the vodka taking over. Everything is bubbly and warm, and a rush of newfound confidence courses your veins. 

“Guess you two will have to teach me then.” You don’t mean for it to sound so suggestive, but then again, you don’t care either. Because the two men are immediately caught on your hook, their gazes intense and warm. 

The flirting doesn’t stop there. Throughout dinner, they are more than happy to show you that they are very romantically interested in their beautiful date—you. Deku is more lowkey and bashful, complimenting the shade of your dress and your earrings, while Shoto flat-out tells you how attractive he thinks you are. 

It takes its toll on you—all of this undivided attention—and you find yourself sweating from it. You’re not used to such genuine flirting and compliments. You don’t know if going home with them is on the table, but if they ask, you won’t say no. That you know much. 

You know deep down that sex on the first date isn’t exactly socially acceptable or appropriate in some cases, but you can’t bring yourself to care about that. However, there is a part of you that is saying “no, don’t”. The voice of reason. The romantic part of you that wants to get to know the two pros and see where things take you. 

Other than flirting, you talk about other things: favorite heroes, their time at UA, favorite missions, vacation spots, etc. They also talk about Warner Bros apparently wanting to make a movie about Deku. “I heard they’re thinking about casting Tom Holland,” he sighs. “He looks nothing like me! But he is a good Spider-Man and is apparently Hollywood’s heartthrob.” 

You giggle, chomping down on your shrimp salad. “He’s cute or whatever, but I prefer my men much bigger and taller, like Jason Momoa.” You practically salivate at the mental image of him. 

Shoto and Deku share a look, smirking at each other. “Is he your type of man?” Shoto asks, a playful glint in his eye. 

The two look at you, quietly eager to know your answer. Your smile fades when you realize you just walked into a trap. But there’s no turning back now…might as well go all in. “Kinda,” you answer, unaware of how airy your voice sounds. “But I do like my men with long hair and pretty eyes.” 

Your eyes trail over Deku’s ever-green eyes that you could stare into forever and Shoto’s long hair you want to trail your fingers through. You want to make it known that you like them. You want them to see the fantasies running wild in your head of you together in bed, in the dark, both of them pressed against you, kissing and touching, all passion and energy transferring from one body to the other. 

Suddenly, you feel shy again and wither slightly. “Sorry,” you giggle. “It’s the vodka talking.” Shoto fixes you with a look that damn near peels you out of your dress. “Let it talk,” he softly demands. “We really like talking to you, Y/N.” 

Deku nods, a slight blush coating his cheeks. “You know, we couldn’t believe we were on a date with someone as gorgeous as you?” He sheepishly asks. “Not that Kaachan and Kiri would fix us up with someone we weren’t attracted to, but seeing you for the first time…” He pauses, blowing air out of his cheeks as if he’s winded. “It was a trip.” 

You flush from his words and genuine tone, knowing that he’s serious. They really think you’re that beautiful? “So would you say I’m your type of girl?” You boldly ask, running your hands lightly over your pudgy sides and down your jiggly thighs under the table.

In Shoto’s eyes, you see nothing but a passion so bold and open that it makes you melt. “I don’t think that even needs to be questioned, doll. You have a beautiful personality. Your looks just add to our attraction for you.” The pet name rolling off of his lips has you ready to get the check and go home with them. 

“Don’t mind his bluntness, but he’s right,” Deku adds. “Anyone would be stupid to have fumbled someone like you.” You see the same genuine passion and enthusiasm in his eyes too. There isn’t a stitch or slip of the truth in their faces. They are dead serious. 

You sit up a little straighter, tightening your hands clasped together in your lap. “Thank you,” you shyly say. “And for the record, any girl would be lucky to have two partners like you two on her arm.” 

They look as if they want you to be that “girl” whose arms they are on. 

The rest of the dinner goes by in a flash. Time really does fly when you’re having fun. You finish your food and they demand you put your credit card away, instead paying for your meal. They then walk you outside and sit on a bench near the restaurant window as you order your Lyft. 

They did offer to drive you home, but you politely declined. Despite your immense attraction to them, they are still strangers…at least right now, they are, but you hope that changes soon. 

While Shoto takes your right, Deku sits down on your left, putting you smack dab in the middle. “We’ll wait here till your Lyft comes. We don’t mind at all! It means more time with you.” You bashfully smile under the moonlight and stars in the clear night sky. The cocktail is starting to fade a bit, so you feel rationality start to sink in. 

A comfortable silence descends upon you three, only filled by the idle chatter of passersby and cars. When you check your phone, your driver is announced to be arriving in five minutes. “I really enjoyed tonight,” you say before clearing your throat. “I think this is one of the best dates I’ve had in a long time.” 

Deku smiles, looking overjoyed to hear this. “We’re happy to hear that. We had a great time with you too.” His fingers, placed on the bench, slightly brush yours. Electricity explodes in your veins at his soft touch. 

Shoto hums in agreement, nodding. ”Hopefully, you’d be up for some more great times with us.” You blink at him, realizing what he means. He wants another date. Deku does too judging from the way his fingers inch closer to yours. 

Taking things one step further, you move your hand closer to his until your hand is on top of his. You hear him physically exhale as if his self-control is jumping out the window. 

“Well, yes,” you answer Shoto, “but you’d need my number for that.” Your tone is soft and flirty, your lashes framing your eyes as you stare up into Shoto’s handsome face. 

Catching on, he playfully smirks down at you. “Then I guess we have a dilemma,” he says, his voice silky and smooth. “So how do we solve that?” You button your lip, mostly because you’re afraid of saying something stupid and ruining the magic of this moment. 

“I guess we’ll just have to compromise, won’t we, Midoriya?” He sighs, acting defeated. Deku catches on to the game and plays the role too, stroking your knuckles with his thumb. “I guess so. After all, we still need to get you to try mochi.” 

You’ve never smiled so wide in your life. By the time the two finish putting their contacts in your phone, your cheeks hurt from smiling so much. Your heart is thundering and you feel like you can fly, high on the fact that these two heartthrobs want you. 

Your Lyft finally arrives in a white SVU and rolls up to the curb. “There’s my ride,” you breathlessly announce, standing with the two. The window rolls down to show your female driver. “Y/N?” The driver calls. You nod, waving at her. 

Deku and Shoto walk over with you to the car, protective and chivalrous. “Here, I’ll get the door for you,” Deku says, opening the back door for you. You thank him, but before you can slip into the seat, you suddenly feel his and Shoto’s pairs of soft lips on either side of your face. Your brain short circuits and the entire world disappears. 

“It was nice meeting you, Y/N,” Shoto whispers into your ear. 

“We hope to see you again,” Deku adds, his voice just as soft and intoxicating.

’You will,’ you think. You want to see them again more than anything. Already, you’re grieving the loss of such a perfect night, desperate for the chance to have one again with them. 

They then step back and allow you to crawl in, no doubt staring at your ass as you do. But then you stop and look back at them, willing to show some of your cards to end the night. “You know, for the record,” you begin, “you two are my type of men. And I’d really like to see you again too.” 

Suddenly, the air between you shifts. You can feel it in the way Deku and Shoto stare at you like they want so much to get in the car and go home with you. 

But they don’t. Instead, they leave you with something that will suffice you for days to come. Shoto leans in first, his hand on the top of the car as he peers into the backseat and presses his lips to yours in a soft, gentle kiss. It’s enough to send those butterflies flapping haphazardly in your stomach as his thumb softly caresses your cheek. 

But as soon as it happens, it’s over. Then it’s Deku’s turn. He also leans down to kiss you, the taste of wine and mint gum heavy on his tongue as it lightly touches yours. You stamp back a moan, your toes curling in your shoes at the soft, intoxicating kiss. 

Their kisses are the best ones you’ve ever had. 

Finally, Deku pulls away and peers at you, his eyes holding a promise of what’s to come next if you venture down this road with them. “We’d like that,” he pants. “Call us when you get home, okay?” 

Closing your parted mouth to avoid looking insane, you nod and try to recover. “Y-Yeah,” you stammer. “I will.” Deku smiles as Shoto reaches in to kiss your hand. “Goodnight, Y/N.” 

You say goodnight and Deku closes the door, allowing the driver to finally drive off in the direction of your home. You watch the two standing on the curb watching you go, your heart still hammering away and your skin alive with flames. You lightly touch your lips, still feeling theirs on them. 

The first thing you do is put in your AirPods and call your friend, a stupid smile stretching across your face. She picks up on the second ring. “You’re alive!” She giddily says. “So what happened? Did you guys kiss? I got your Lyft notification, so I’m guessing you didn’t go home with them.” 

“No,” you sigh, rolling your eyes. “And yes, we did kiss. And I got their numbers.” 

Your friend nearly blows out both of your eardrums as she squeals into your ears. “Ooooh, the boys are gonna be so happy!” She squeals. “So tell me everything! How was the date?” 

With your smile growing wider, you add your two contacts to a group chat to thank them for the date tonight with emojis that you added to their names yourself: 

Deku 🥦💚, Shoto ❄️🔥❤️

Thank you for tonight!

“It was everything,” you dreamily sigh. 

THE END.

[excalibur-gone-missing]

Paring: Toru Oikawa x female reader

Requested: no

Genre: smut, female receiving

Warning(s): cunnilingus, figuring, degradation

Summary: Toru eating out his freeuse slut aka you

Word count: 743

Other works

Beta reader: none

disclaimer: this is my first time writing smut, so dont expect it to be stellar (do lemme know if it was good or not)

a/n: I request each and every one of you to comment on this fic don't be a silent reader it helps me as an author to understand my readers and i would love to communicate with all of you. Constructive criticism is always welcomed by me so do talk about this fic or send me an ask.

[permanent taglist] [only for those interested, don’t fill the form otherwise]

-----------------------smut under the cut--------------------------

Oikawa was your pretty cute roommate. You both had met during your college days and as dorm partners and had bonded over time. Now, three years after finishing, you both are still going strong as roomies.

He has settled into his big-boy job of playing volleyball full-time, and you have the most boring nine-to-five ever. Although the big-time celebrity he is, plus the wealth that is flowing into his bank, says he is a richie rich dude, but the boy still refuses to move out, and who are you to say otherwise?

Now, the refusal to move has some ulterior motives, but it's not like you were not aware of that. The man is obsessed with you, more like your pussy, so much so that he refuses to let you have a moment of peace in the house when you both are alone.

The fact that neither of you are in a relationship helps a lot in contributing to it, not like a simple boyfriend would stop the man from bending you over in the most obnoxious place and ramming his cock into you, but surely it would create a bit of hindrance, and no one likes those.

To put it in the most simplest from, you are his personal free-use slut; that’s what you are. You could deny it, but you know it as well as he does, that you'd bend in the middle of a crowded street if he wanted you to.

Not like he actually wanted that to happen, but you get the point. So, as a general rule in the house, it is forbidden for you to wear panties or a bra, not like you liked to do so anyways. He liked having access to your pussy at all times of the day so that he could always take you anywhere and everywhere.

 Just like this time, when he came back from the gym all sweaty and thirsty, for your pussy.

Walking into the house, he looks around for you only to find you on the balcony tending to those basil plants you have started growing a few months ago. Leaving his gym bag on the couch, he strides over to you and without a single word, he pushes you towards the railing of the balcony and, bending down, he settles himself between your legs.

“Been thinking about you all day,” he says from between your legs and without letting you answer, he pulls down your shorts to get the view of your glistening pussy, with its puffy lips.

“Did you play with yourself while I was away?” he asks, looking at you, only for you to let out a flustered whine.

“I just edged myself, Toru, I couldn’t cum,” you say, thoroughly flustered.

“Dumb whore can’t even make herself cum without my cock, that’s what you needed, wasn’t it?” he laughs as you vigorously nod.

Without wasting another moment, he dives into your pussy, licking a long stripe of it and sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. With each and every lick it becomes even harder for you to keep your voice lower, eventually your screams pierce through the quite evening, making sure to let all the pedestrians know who is eating you out so well.

Latching his face further into your heat, he adds two fingers inside you and immediately starts curling them. Your essence dripping onto his tongue is like heaven, sweeter than any candy he could ever have.

While letting out lewd breathy moans, you grip his hair hard as he keeps abusing your cunt.

“To-toru, ahh-”

“Yes, scream my name, slut, let the world know who makes you go all dumb over his tongue,” he groans.

“Toru, I’m gonna-”

Before you could complete your sentence, the waves of pleasure hit you harder than anything else. With a loud scream of his name, you come all over his face and like a starved man, he drinks you up till the last drop of your cum is gone and you are shaking with overstimulation.

Emerging from between your thighs, he gives your pussy a quick slap, saying, “I'm gonna go take a shower, I expect you to be naked on your knees beside my bed, slut.”

With that, he is out, leaving you to shakily walk into the house towards his bedroom, because what Toru wants he gets, and you are no one to deny him the pleasure he so politely asked you for.

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

a/n: again if you have read till the end do tell me how you liked it, and thanks for reading.

[pedriache]

could you write about you and arda being long distance and you surprising him after one of his matches? tyy i love your writing (i hope your not getting tired of writing for arda 😭)

All my love — Arda Güler.

Pairing: Arda Güler x Fem!Reader

Summary: After scoring his first goal for Real Madrid, you decide it’s time to surprise your boyfriend.

Word count: 661

Disclaimer/s: err none that i can think of!

A/N: writing for rma is such a struggle please bear with me… ALSO! i could never get sick/tired of arda reqs or reqs in general.. like keep um coming..

You’d been watching the game when he scored, making the score switch to 4-0. You’d yelped, jumping from your seat alongside your father. You were so proud of your boyfriend, instantly taking out your phone to text him a quick ‘i’m so proud of you, congrats babe!!!’ although you knew he’d be quite busy so you didn’t expect a reply until late that night.

When he did reply, you could practically feel the happiness exuding off him. He ended the message by saying, ‘I wish you were here.’ And you knew then, you had to buy a plane ticket.

Early the following morning, you boarded the plane and prepared for the four and a half hour flight. A long treck, but you’d travel a million miles to be with Arda any day.

You’d turned your location off, not that Arda checked it much especially since he had your daily schedule memorized. And right now, he would assume you’d gone to work.

Wrong! You were about to land in Madrid’s airport. The drive, as you were being picked up by a friend, was semi-quick as well. Only a thirty minute drive from the airport to the apartment Arda had been living in.

Long distance sucked. It had put a strain on your relationship for awhile, but you both found ways to work around it, and at the end of the day, it seemed to deepen your connection with each other.

After grabbing your luggage and getting into the car, nerves wracked your body. You hadn’t seen Arda in well over a month. You were excited beyond belief, but couldn’t help but feel anxious about seeing him again. A part of you wondered if surprising him was a good idea, but there was no turning back now!

Your friend stopped outside the apartment complex, wishing you a good luck before driving away. Taking a calming breath, you open the door and make your way to the elevator.

The minutes seemed to drag by in the elevator. Your foot tapping against the ground, your hands growing sweaty the tighter you gripped the suitcase handle.

Finally, you heard the familiar ding that signaled the doors were about to open. Stepping out, you walk the familiar route to his apartment door.

Lifting your hand to knock, you remember you already had the key. Shuffling through your purse you take out the key and push it into the slot, unlocking the door.

The apartment was quiet as you walked inside, shutting the door behind you quietly. “Anyone home?” You call out, trying to keep your voice below a yell as to not frighten Arda.

A few silent moments pass, then you hear feet shuffling, and eventually you see his head peak around the corner. You laugh at his expression. Eyebrows raised, eyes wide, and jaw dropped.

“What the—“ He cuts himself off, rounding the corner fully and taking fast strides toward you, not letting you get a word out before his arms are wrapping around you in a bone crushing hug.

“What are you doing here?” He gasps out, head buried in your neck. Your arms wrap around him, giving his torso a tight squeeze.

Smiling as you pull back, you shrug. “You said you wished I was here, soo.. I came!”

“Oh, I love you.” He groans, placing a kiss to your lips, “you should’ve told me, I would’ve clean up.” He frowns, and your eyes dart toward the living room area, noticing a few out of place things, then to the kitchen sink, noticing there was a couple dirty dishes.

“It’s fine, I don’t mind.” You reassured, lips connecting with his once more. “I’m just glad to be here.”

“I’m glad you’re here too.” He mumbles, his knuckle comes up to graze your cheek, pushing a loose strand from your face. “I missed you.”

Your bottom lips juts out, “I missed you more.”

“Impossible.” Arda whispers, pressing his lips to yours once again.

DTS , @halfwayhearted !

[show-your-fangs]

as for blurb requests i was thinking about the kinda opposite of moments, instead of hotch hating reader and then catching feelings, having them being close friends and him realizing that he’s too far gone before he can prevent it- idek what i’m requesting to be honest, i just love to see my man all flustered over his feelings

oh shut up i love this too much

Moments AU: Aaron falls head over heels from the second that he meets you.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x f!Reader

Words: 810

CW: nothing, just pining and fluff.

Disclaimer: YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO REPOST MY WRITING ANYWHERE ELSE WITHOUT MY CONSENT. REBLOGS ARE ENCOURAGED THOUGH. YOU MAY NOT FEED MY WORK TO ANY AI DATABASES OF ANY KIND OR TO USE MY WORKS TO TRAIN AI. FUCK AI.

This could not be happening. 

It needed to stop, he needed to stop. It was getting to the point where every time you so much as looked at him his heart began aggressively pounding against his ribcage. 

The first time that it happened he’d been understandably confused, he’d even thought he was having a heart attack. But the lack of every other symptom quickly reassured him that he wasn’t. 

But in all honesty, he’d take the heart attack over dealing with his feelings for you. 

He should’ve seen it coming, should’ve been able to profile himself and come to the realization much sooner. But he’d always been blindsided when it came to his own emotions. It wasn’t that he didn’t know they were there but rather that he’d allowed himself to believe that they were just professional, platonic, normal. 

He felt this way towards the rest of his team, the rest of his family. The love that he felt for them was so overwhelming, allconsuming, that when he started to feel that way towards you after a few months of you working at the BAU, he dismissed them as nothing more than his body finally trusting you, welcoming you into the family. 

But that night something changed. 

They had just made it back to the office after wrapping up a case, the jetlag and general fatigue settling over everyone as they shuffled towards their desks to get started on their paperwork. Morale had been at an all time low, the unfortunate outcome of the case weighing heavy on everyone’s shoulders. 

He’d been on the phone with Jack, saying goodnight to him so his mind was elsewhere. It wasn’t until he dropped off his bags in his office and heard his name being called that he finally took in the sight before him.

You were peeking out of the conference room, a bright and disarming smile on your lips, his name, his first name, like honey on your tongue. He’d insisted you call him Aaron a week earlier and they’d been whisked away to a case before he could hear you say it.

“Would you like some dinner?” you asked him, gentle and caring and too kind to him. 

He was rendered speechless by such a normal question, his cheeks heating up more and more every second that went by where he didn’t respond. Instead, he focused on his son’s voice over the phone, the boy helping him out of the embarrassing hole he found himself in as he just pointed at the phone and you nodded in understanding. 

You were about to turn around when he stopped you, calling out your name and motioning you towards him. You obeyed almost instantly and he could almost convince himself that you were taking advantage of the excuse to be near him as much as he was taking advantage of his rambling son to get you into his space.

“Jack wants to say hello,” he told you when you entered his office and if it was even possible, your smile only got brighter. 

He held his phone out to you, his chest tightening, his lungs begging for air, all of his energy going to keep his hand from shaking. Your delicate fingers wrapped themselves over his own, almost lingering for a second too long before he let you take the phone to talk to the boy.

You sat yourself down on his desk chair, as if the office was yours, as if the two of you had this relationship of trust and familiarity. He couldn’t help but watch you intently as you spoke with his son, your voice chipper and excited, eager to engage in conversation with the hyperactive six year old. 

At some point your eyes met his, catching him almost red handed in his admiration. His heart stopped beating, he could hear a faint ringing in his ears, the scorching hot guilt and embarrassment bubbling up to the surface. And then you winked at him, quick, playful, as if the two of you were sharing a secret that no one else had the privilege of knowing. 

He was certain you could see the blush that adorned his cheeks, was certain that you could hear his heart hearing out of his chest, was certain that you knew exactly why he was acting this way. He knew, because he could see it all on you too.  

Unbeknownst to either of you, you weren’t being at all subtle with your secret crushes as it seemed that the only people who didn’t know about your feelings for each other were yourselves. 

“I bet you twenty dollars he asks her out by the end of the week,” Derek whispered to Rossi before taking a bite out of the chow mein you’d ordered for them.

Rossi scoffed, offended. “I bet you fifty he asks her out tonight.”

BRB SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP thank you so much for requesting this

[sweetprfct]

High Infidelity

Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader

Summary: Did you really have to chart the constellations in his eyes? Did you really have to tell him how he brought you back to life?

Author's Note: Babe by Taylor Swift, High Infidelity by Taylor Swift, Illicit Affairs by Taylor Swift, My Tears Ricochet by Taylor Swift, Wildest Dreams by Taylor Swift. I don't know... I don't know... I don't know. My mind is all over the place the past week and needed to write this down for some distraction. I don't know... I never done a back to back series nor have written something like this, so yeah. Forgive me for all the trigger warnings. Everything is all so crazy. This is a very very hard thing to write because of past emotional abuse experiences in real life that still terrorizes me and maybe it's a letter for the past experience to let it go.

Disclaimer: 18+, emotional abuse, mention of harming, infidelity

(Please, please don't read this if it triggers you. I need you all to think hard about it before reading this one. This is a bit of a dark fic).

Wordcount: 3.2K

part one - part two - part three - part four - epilogue

“Late again?” 

Your boyfriend, Eli, asked you the moment you entered the flat. You were kicking off your shoes by the front door, eyes full of exhaustion as you sighed. He was by the kitchen heating up some leftovers. You didn’t exactly understand how it was “late” because technically it was only 9pm.

“Yeah, the event went pretty late.” You replied.

You technically left the event early knowing that Eli would start asking where you were. That was how he was these days. Keeping count of everything you did.

You were technically not an official assistant in the team. You just started this job, and it was more of a paid internship that you applied to because you needed the money, and it paid really well. You worked for Joseph Quinn’s team. A British actor who got pushed into the limelight too fast after his appearance in Stranger Things.

Joe was nice. His team was nice and very organized and all you had to do was bring Joe’s things, get coffee, and help his team organize whatever they needed for Joe. 

That was all. 

Nothing too complicated.

Nothing for you to really complain about nor do something that could ruin this whole internship that you applied for. 

Well, at least that was what you thought. 

“That’s a nice dress.” Eli stepped out of the kitchen, his eyes studying you as he ate a piece of chicken. 

For some reason, his eyes studying you like that made you feel angry and annoyed. It wasn’t like he was doing anything to you, but the tone of his voice was making you feel annoyed. 

“Thanks. I’ll go freshen up.” You gave him a small smile, giving him a quick peck on the lips before heading down the hall. 

“I’m sure many men were staring at you tonight.” Eli added his little comment that made you stop halfway from your steps and looked over your shoulder.

“I was just doing my job, assisting.” You reassured him before continuing down the hall and into your bedroom.

You weren’t going to lie. Your relationship with Eli for the past two years has been rough. He was constantly jealous, constantly making rude comments about what you wear and how you wore your makeup to the point where you had stopped putting makeup on. You had changed your whole closet to just jeans, t-shirt or jumpers. You changed your whole style and personality because you didn’t want any trouble from Eli. You didn’t want to disappoint him. 

However, this new job of yours came with the responsibility of dressing up and wearing makeup when you accompany Joe through the many events or movie premieres. That made Eli squirm even more for the last four months whenever you came home wearing a nice dress and nice makeup. He would comment how the dress was too short or the dress was too revealing. 

“I wore a jacket, don’t worry.” You would tell him. 

“Next time, pick one that isn’t so revealing.” Eli would scoff. “You’re mine. You don’t need other men looking at you.” 

You could feel the love in your relationship was slowly fading, and you didn’t know how to get out of it. You were too scared to do something about it. Terrified even what he could react or say towards this decision of yours if you ever decided to cut this off. Eli had been very aggressive towards his words to you and sometimes, even if he wouldn’t say something, you could see the disappointment all over his face. You were a people pleaser, and you were the kind of person who didn’t want any trouble, so you tried to give what he wanted most of the time.

It made you hide inside yourself even more. It made you feel insecure. It made you terrified of every decision you made because you didn’t want to upset him. You didn’t want to see that reaction on his face even if his lips were saying something else. It made you feel like you were walking on broken glass every time. 

Sliding yourself under the covers next to Eli that night, you saw his eyes studying you the moment you entered the room and brushed your hair in front of your vanity. His eyes never left you until you laid next to him. He immediately moved himself close to you and pulled you in his arms, hugging you from behind. 

“So, how many more events do you have to go to?” He asked.

You sighed, closing your eyes. Eli was never interested in your job. You knew he was asking about it, so he knew what he was expecting. By that, it meant he would be monitoring the outfits that you would wear and the people that would be around you in that event.

“Not sure.” You murmured. “I’ll let you know once my supervisor lets me know.”

Eli lets out a soft hum and kisses you on your cheek before turning you to face him and kisses you roughly on the lips, towering over you. For a second, you went with it and kissed him back, pushing your body against his and letting him have what he wanted. He lets his soft fingers slide the strap of your tank top, kissing your bare shoulder. His lips found the skin of your neck as he softly sucked onto the skin, a small gasp escaping your lips.

“Babe.” You whispered, slowly pulling away. “I’m tired. I’m early tomorrow.”

Eli sighed, letting himself laid back down on the bed next to you. 

“You’re always tired.” He argued. “The last time we had sex was last week.”

“I’m sorry, I’m just tired today, and I have to get up early tomorrow.” You turned your back on him, closing your eyes. 

“Right.” Eli said sarcastically, getting up from the bed.

You looked over your shoulder, sitting up on the bed as he made his way towards the door.

“No, c’mon. Don’t be so upset.” You said.

You could see it all over his eyes that was getting upset, and you knew if you didn’t do something about this, he wouldn’t talk to you for the next two days. He would make up an excuse that he was busy and that he would be with his friends. 

“Come here.” You reached your hand out to him as he paused in his tracks and stared at your hand. 

He gave you a small smile and walked towards the side of your bed, taking your hand in his as he kissed you hungrily and towered over you on the bed. You let him touch you in all the ways he wanted to, but you just felt numb. You couldn’t breathe as you stared into the white ceiling and kissed him back softly, letting his fingers brush against your burning skin. You felt disassociated as he kissed you hungrily and pushed himself inside of you. 

You felt nothing but disgusted with yourself for being so weak.  

That was how you have been feeling lately with your relationship. You felt trapped and you felt like a chain has been around your neck lately, and Eli was pulling it every chance he got. 

“Hey, could you go to the coffee shop down the block to get everyone coffee?” Alex, Joe’s manager, asked, interrupting your thoughts the next day. 

“Uh…sure.” Alex handed you a piece of paper with everyone’s orders. 

Your job was always simple but as time went on, your interaction with certain people became more frequent. In the beginning, Joe couldn’t even look at you nor acknowledge you that much unless he was thanking you for bringing him the things he needed. Then, Alex and his team had gotten busier that the things in your list were starting to add up. Part of your job has been added to “make sure Joe is in this place at a certain time,” or “make sure Joe wears this suit instead of this.”

Then, there was the chore that Alex would give you to make sure that his collar, tie or buttons on his shirt was perfect before he stepped out of the red carpet. 

“Do you enjoy your job?” Joe had asked you that one time when you had sat on the sofa of his dressing room, waiting for the rest of his team to arrive. 

“Sure.” Your voice almost sounded so monotone that Joe couldn’t even believe your answer. 

He sat there and tilted his head at you, one brow raised and waited for your real answer. You let out a deep breath, closing the magazine that you were reading and set it back on the table.

“I guess it’s okay. Couldn’t complain.” You shrugged.

Joe let out a soft understanding hum and focused his attention back to his phone, scrolling his time away. He was getting ready for his movie premiere, and you were there to make sure that everything he needed was there. That he looked perfect right before he stepped out of the red carpet.

Not that you hated your job but sometimes, it could get so repetitive that you looked bored after the events. The rest of Joe’s team would go and prepare whatever they needed to, and you would just make sure Joe was fine. That he didn’t need anything. 

“Here.” Joe handed you a glass of martini at the after party of the premiere.

“No, thanks. I’m technically still working.” 

“And looked bored.” Joe’s face was a little too close to yours as he whispered those words.

You hesitated, your eyes scanning the room trying to look for a sign of Alex. Joe couldn’t help but chuckle, shaking his head.

“They went home. So, technically you’re the only one left here.” Joe answered the question that you were asking in your head. “C’mon. You deserve it for working so hard all the time.”

Pursing your lips, you stared at the glass that Joe was holding before finally taking it from his hand and taking a sip of it. Joe smiled and took a sip of his own drink, his eyes scanning the room before falling back to you.

“Are you usually this quiet?” Joe asked.

“I’m just doing my job.” You answered, a small smile creeping up on Joe’s face. “I don’t want to interrupt anyone.”

“You’re not interrupting me.” Joe smiled, taking another sip of his drink.

You could tell he already had a few drinks before this conversation. You continued to drink the glass of martini in your hand and didn’t reply a word to what Joe said. You could tell the alcohol was making him a little bolder, and he was trying to flirt. You didn’t want to step into any boundaries because first of all, it was inappropriate, and you didn’t want to lose this job either.

“So, how long have you been here in London?” Joe asked.

“About two years.” Your answers were plain and simple as Joe continued to play 20 questions with you. 

By the end of the night, you both seemed to open up to each other a little bit more, and you were able to learn Joe more personally. The thing was that you didn’t realize that night was going to be a start of something new between you and him because ever since that event, Joe’s attention was on you most of the time. He would gaze down at you and give you small smiles, while you would fix his collar or tie before he stepped out onto the red carpet.

Then, during after parties, you would be left to babysit Joe, and you would notice how his eyes would catch your eyes across the room. You sat in the corner and minded your own business, your focus on your phone. However, Joe would walk towards you and catch your attention.

“Wanna dance?” Joe held out his hand.

You bit your lower lip and said, “I don’t dance, sorry.”

Joe sighed and sat next to you, his eyes lingering on the screen of your work phone. 

“Whatever Alex is telling you to do can wait ‘til tomorrow.” 

“That’s easy for you to say. You don’t have a full to-do list.”

Joe laughed softly, raising his brow at you. “A full to-do list? I’m the one who has to stand in front of those cameras and do the interviews, remember?”

Joe had a point. 

Though, you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. “True.” 

You and Joe would talk for the rest of the night. You both would laugh and tease each other. You both would start talking about personal things, and he somehow was able to understand you well. It made your heart swell a little bit. 

It wasn’t right that you felt this way towards Joe because you were in a relationship. You could just easily let Joe know that you weren’t single and that whatever flirty tricks he was trying to do to you, it wouldn’t work. However, you kept dancing around that subject. You didn’t bother bringing that subject up and towards the end of the night, you both would start flirting a little bit more. Besides the fact that you were in a relationship, you also didn’t want to do anything unprofessional or inappropriate because at the end of the night, you were technically still working for Joe’s team and Joe. So, you tried your best not to lead him on. 

That was until you had come home one night and found Eli waiting for you in the living room. You arrived home half an hour past nine, and he already looked upset the moment you had stepped inside the flat. 

“Where have you been?” Eli’s tone of voice wasn’t what you liked at all. 

“I’m sorry, I had to finish some things. I texted you I was going to be late.” You explained.

“No, you didn’t.” Eli argued.

“Yes, I did. Didn’t you get my message?” You knitted your brows, making sure your voice was calm because you didn’t want to upset him even more.

You watched Eli pick up his phone from the coffee table and looked down at it and let out a deep breath.

“You know, maybe you should look for another job if they keep making you stay up this late.” 

You slid your coat off and hung it on the coat hanger and said, “It’s only 9:30. It’s not that late, Eli.”

You heard Eli scoff and shook his head. “So, you'd rather be with them than with me?”

You were confused. 

Where did that subject came from?

You didn’t understand why Eli was acting like this. Shouldn’t he be more supportive about your career? Didn’t you tell him that you needed this job because you needed the money? What else did you have to say or do to make sure he would stop this jealousy thing because it was making you so exhausted.

“I… I didn’t say that.” You murmured.

“Maybe you just don’t love me the way I love you. Just tell me, and it’s fine. I’ll happily go.” Eli shrugged, looking down at the floor.

You walked towards him, taking his hands in yours. The guilt inside of you brewed in your stomach but at the same time, you wanted to vomit. 

“I do love you. I told you that, remember? I love you.”

You felt nothing.

“Then, find another job… for me.” Eli looked into your eyes.

“I… I can’t. It’s hard to look for another job out there and this pays me well, while I’m able to learn the entertainment industry. You know how much I want a career in that industry.”

Eli’s eyes suddenly turned glum again. He slid his hands away from yours and exhaled sharply. 

“Why would you even want to be in that industry? So you could be naked and show everyone that?” 

You couldn’t understand what he was saying. You couldn't understand why he was acting like this.  

“You know that’s not true!” You argued.

You were exhausted from explaining yourself over and over again, and he just didn’t believe you. You felt like whatever you did was never enough for him. Tears started welling up in your eyes as you watched Eli grab his car keys.

“Wh…Where are you going?” Your voice stuttered, terrified of what he might do.

“Obviously, you don’t love me. I mean… no one loves me, so what’s the point, right?”

You grabbed his hand, trying to take the keys away, but he had his hand in a fist as he tried to slide his hand away from your grip.

“No, stop! Please.” You begged, tears rolling down your cheeks. “Don’t do this.”

“If you love me, you’d do this for me.” Eli replied, his eyes hardened as he stared at you.

You didn’t say a word because what he was asking of you was impossible. You already had lost yourself and your dignity. Your job at the moment was the only thing that you have that could maybe help you get back up again. After a few seconds of not replying, Eli pulled his wrist away from your grip, shaking his head.

“If you find me dead on the road then that’s on you.” He stated before walking out the front door. 

“Eli!” You cried out, running out the door, but it was too late as he had already gotten in the car and drove off.

Going back inside the flat, you laid on your bed that night, sobbing and questioning as to how you have gotten yourself into this situation. Questioning every decision you made as to why you were too weak to break this off. 

What if you break this thing off, and Eli would actually harm himself? It would be all your fault like he said. What if no one could love you after this? What about the happy memories that the two of you had at the beginning? What if you would regret it at the end for letting him go? You knew you were the only one that he had left in his life. You couldn’t do that to him either. You couldn’t easily just get out. 

You were trapped. 

Stuck. 

Frozen.

Around midnight, Eli had come back home. You weren’t asleep when he had entered the bedroom, but you had your eyes closed. How could you sleep after tonight? How were you able to have a peace of mind if he was out there? How would you know that he didn’t do anything to himself? It would be all your fault if something happened to him. 

You just couldn’t shut your mouth and agreed with what he was asking, couldn’t you? 

Feeling his arms wrapped around your torso, you felt him nuzzling your hair. You didn’t move. You couldn’t move. You knew he wasn’t going to apologize, so you didn’t try to hope for that. Eventually, he had fallen asleep, holding you that night. A tear rolled down your cheek as you covered your mouth with the palm of your hand to block out your sobs, so he wouldn’t wake up. 

At this point, you didn’t know who you were anymore. 

You just felt numb and lost, choking in your own tears. 

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[asmutwriter]

The Gangsta's Wife (Part 9)

DESCRIPTION: During you're time in the safe house you experience an event that'll likely cause your whole life to change.

WORD COUNT: 3110

From Beginning / Previous / Next / Master List  

WARNINGS: pregnancy, giving birth, swearing, really bad writing to be honest

DISCLAIMERS

This is fiction. Please always talk to your partner before doing anything and make sure they are ok with what you are doing beforehand

This story does not follow the timeline of the show

You'd been living in the safe house for a little under 2 months now. Celebrated Christmas and the New Year inside of it. You saw the man who delivered you new food every week on a Sunday. Edward his name was. Asking him to buy some specific things for your sisters so they could still have a somewhat normal Christmas, given the circumstances. It was quite nice being the three of you though. Over the winter you spent the short days reading, the long nights playing cards.

It was mid January, like any other Sunday. You sat in the living room. Reading a book. Only a few days left before February came around. Which you were greatful for. This month always seemed to last ages and summer would always seem so far away. A knock at the door. Elizabeth calls out.

"I'll get it" she says cheerfully. You stand up. A weird pain going through you as you stand. Letting out a small huff of air as you rub your stomach. Paying it no mind before walking over to the door. You see Edward outside. Brown paper bag with various bits in as he talks to Liz. Who keeps playing with her hair. You half smile at the scene before waddling over. He sees you, a smile on his face. Different to the one he gave your sister but you pay it no mind.

"You life saver" you say. Holding your hand out for the bag. He shakes his head.

"I don't think you should be carrying anything unnecessarily in your condition" he motions at your rather huge stomach.

"Is it really obvious that I'm pregnant?" he laughs as you comically push your stomach out. Motioning for him to come in. He goes to the kitchen. He'd been here plenty of times before so knew where to go. Placing the bag down onto the side.

"I even managed to get you-" he reaches into the bag. Pulling out two oranges.

"Oh my god yes" you hold a hand out, him passing it to you as he starts to empty the bag. That's when you feel it. The same sharp pain going through your side. You brace your hands on the counter. Furrowing your brow before the pain stops just as suddenly as it had started. Edward watches you

"You ok Mrs Shelby?" you nod. Standing back up again, rubbing your stomach.

"Yeah just peachy. Or should I say-" you hold the orange up again "Orangey". He rolls his eyes.

"I thought the dad was meant to say the bad jokes?" you laugh, starting to peel the fruit. Going to say something but the pain comes back. Harder this time. Ed stops what hes doing. Coming over to you as he steadies you. You bend forward. Grabbing his hand and clinging onto it as if your life depended on it. "Liz call the midwife" you see her running off.

"No" you call out. A small plea in your voice "please don't.... fuck!" you say. Hearing her speaking on the phone.

"Lets get you sat down" he says. Pulling out a dining chair as Liz runs back in, shortly followed by Mary.

"Midwife is on the way"

"Good. Flo just breath"

"What the fuck do you think I'm doing?" you shut your eyes. Rubbing your stomach as you speak in a low whisper. "Please get them out of this room" you say, almost as a sob. He nods. Motioning for your sisters to leave. SHhtting the door behind them to the kitchen. He comes and sits next to you. You dig your nails into the wood of the table.

"We- We should contact my husband"

"I can't do that" you look at him. Focusing on your breathing as you give him a questioning look. "Mr Shelby was very clear on his instructions. We do not contact him no matter what. To keep you, your child, and your sister safe". You chuckle slightly. A shaky breath out as you look away from him. Another contraction hitting you. You bend over slightly. Hand going to your stomach as your nails scratching the table before balling it into fists. Feeling the pain of your nails into the flesh of your palm.

Letting out a crying laugh as the pain subsides. Shaking your head slightly. "I'm having his baby and hes to fucking busy to come and see me"

"Its for your safety Mrs Shelby" you run a hand over your face. Pushing yourself up from your chair. Starting to pace. Ed stands too, hands outstretched like your a stray dog hes trying to tame. "I think you should remain sat down" you shake your head. Swaying on your feet side to side. Hearing the front door knock. Ed stands up. You shut your eyes as you hear the door open. The familiar voice of your midwife being heard.

She walks into the kitchen. Smiling at you as she places a medical bag onto the dining room table. "Its nice to see you again Mrs Shelby" you nod. Breathing deeply through your nose as she continues to speak. "Why don't we go to the bedroom for a little more privacy, hmm?" you nod.

Letting her take your arm as she leads you to the bedroom. You stay standing as she goes and and moves your pillows around for you.You stand as she does so, swaying softly as you shut your eyes. Ed following with the medical kit. She looks at him, taking the kit from him.

"Thank you" she smiles at him. He stands, hands placed neatly in front of him as he watches. She coughs slightly, causing him to look at her "I'm going to have to ask you to leave sir. There's no men allowed in the delivery room"

"I can't do that. I'm sorry ma'am" she turns to face him fully.

"I understand your concern. But my only aim for this visit is to deliver the baby safely. Your men have already checked my person. I am unarmed. Now I need you to leave so that I can do my job" he looks at her.

"I'll be just outside the door. If I hear anything unusual I will make no hesitation to come in here" she nods. Him turning tail and heading out the door. Shutting it behind him as your midwife faces you. A smile back on her face. "Why don't you come and lie down on the bed Mrs Shelby?"

"I don't want to lie down"

"I'll be able to help you a lot better if you lie down and let me have a look at whats happening".

"Is it to late to not have it?" she half smiles.

"Unfortunately so. Come on" she gently takes your shoulders. Leading you to the bed. Helping you up and lie down. Going between your thighs as she examines you. You shut your eyes as you breath.

"You're 4cm dilated"

"6 to go, right?" she nods. You shake your head. Turning your legs to go back over the bed. Standing up and pacing again. Gripping the end of the bed frame as another contraction hits. Screaming out. Dorothy (the midwife) coming over and comforting you. Rubbing firm yet gentle circles onto your lower back. She continues to rub onto your back. Massaging the pain away as best as she could.

"I want my husband" you say in a choked sob. "Please..."

"I can't do that Mrs Shelby. I'm sorry. What you need to focus on is getting this baby out. Do you think you can do that?" you shake your head.

"No. No I cant do it. I cant do this" you grip the bed frame tighter. Crying out again. "I need my husband... Please..." She waits for this contraction to pass before helping you to lie down onto the bed.. Dorothy checks how dilated you are.

"You're at 10cm my lovely"

"What the fuck does that mean?" you say. Hand coming up and covering your eyes.

"It means that you can start pushing for me. Count to 3 and give a really big push. 1, 2, 3 - that's it. Good girl. Do that one more time for me ok? 1, 2, 3 and push. Well done my lovely. The head is out. Hold it there. You're doing so well. Ok. Now do it one more time. Do you think you can do it? Come on. 1. 2. 3. Push. Keep pushing. Keep going. Well done. You did so well"

You pant. Eyes opening as you look. Dorothy clamping the two ends of the umbilical cord. Cutting it. Your eyes follow her as she holds your baby. Her rubbing its back. Unable to hear its cries a fear washes over you. "Is my baby ok?". As if on cue you start to hear its crying. A sigh of relief as she wraps the small human up in a blanket.

"Congratulations Mrs Shelby. You have a beautiful baby boy". You get handed him. A smile on your face as you look at the child you had made.

"Oh my god" you say in a soft whisper. Gently stroking the babes features. You feel Dorothy help clean everything up. Covering your lower regions before opening the door. You cant see it but Edward, Elizabeth, and Mary all wait outside the door. They come in. Edward checking to make sure everything seems well as Elizabeth and Mary rush to your side. Looking at your baby. A smile on your features as you look at the child.

"Have you thought of any names?"

"Yes. We were going to see if it was a boy or a girl first" you look up at her. "We're going to call him Charles" looking back down at the baby. "Charles Shelby" you whisper the name. Closing your eyes as you kiss his forehead.

-

5 months had passed. You were still in the safe house. Your midwife had stopped coming regularly around 4 months ago. Although she did tell you that if you had any further questions to contact the doctors. Edward was still coming every Sunday. Delivering you all food as you remained on lock down. Liz and Mary outside in the garden. Happy to be in the summer sun.

You were sat on the living room floor. Holding a toy that Edward had brought you as a gift for Charles. You play with it. Booping it onto the childs nose causing him to giggle. That's when you hear the front door open. Turning to look at the hallway. Edward wasn't meant to come round for another 3 days and the men patrolling your house never came in. You stand up. Picking up your child as you hold him close to you.

Rubbing his back as you make your way to the living room door. Poking your head round you see someone you weren't expecting.

"Thomas..." you whisper his name. Him examining the pictures on the wall. Turning to face you at hearing his name. He smiles at you. His cold stare growing warm as they meet yours. "I- I wasn't expecting you today" he nods.

"I told you I'd come and get you once the threat had been dealt with. So here I am".

"So we're safe to come back home?" he nods. You smile. Hugging the child you were holding close to you. Shutting your eyes as you rest your head against Charlie. "We can go home" you whisper. "We can go home". Kissing the side of his head. You open your eyes. Seeing your husbands eyes on the child your holding.

"Shit" you look between the two of them "shit yes. Tom meet your son. Charles" he comes over fully. The baby staring at him as he gently strokes the babes cheeks. This close proximity you get the scent of whiskey and cigarettes from your husband. The familiarity of it causing you to relax as he smiles at his child. The baby smiling back at him. Mimicking his dads expression.

"I've come to take you, your mum, and your aunties home. What do you say about that, ey?". You kiss your childs cheek before stroking his hair. Turning to Tommy.

"Could you hold him whilst I get the girls and our stuff please?". He nods without hesitation. Hands coming out as he takes your child. A genuine smile on his face as he takes him in his hold. The child looks at you, reaching a hand out. You take it. Kissing the back of his fingers.

"I will be back soon my love" kissing his fingers again. "You stay here with your dad, ok? I'll only be a minute" Stroking his cheek. He looks at his father. The hand you were holding goes to his dads cheek. An unsure but small smile comes over the youngers face. You stroke his hair again. Kissing the top of his head. "I'll be quick".

You're husband drives you all back home. Pulling up outside your house. The back doors open as your sisters get out. You grab the handle to open the car door. Stepping out as you hold your son. Liz and Mary grab your bags as well as their own as the start going into the house. You smile as you look at the familiar building.

Thomas comes over to you. A hand going gently to your upper arm as he looks at you. You turn your head. Meeting his ocean eyes. "I have a present for you". Your brow knits together as you look at him.

"What for?"

"Many reasons. To celebrate our one year anniversary, the birth of our son, Christmas, plus the fact that the threat that separated us is now gone for good" he pauses for a moment. Letting the words hit your ears

"What is it then?"

"That defeats the point of a present if I tell you, ey? All I ask is that you and Charlie get into the car and I'll take you to it" you don't move. Instead just watching him. Trying to read him. It had been a while so you were a little rusty. "Trust me, Florence". You nod slightly.

"I trust you Mr Shelby" he smiles. You move to the side as he reaches behind you. Grabbing the car door, opening it for you as you get in. Shutting it behind you before getting into the drivers seat. Charlie watches your husband as he loosens his tie. Pulling it up and over his head. Turning to face you as he holds it in his palms.

"You still trust me Mrs Shelby?". You look at the tie. Then looking at his eyes. His soft, pulling you in as they scan your features. "Do you?". He repeats. You bite the inside of your lip. Looking at the tie again before nodding. Looking back at his eyes he smiles. You wrap and arm around your son. Holding him close to you as Tommy brings the tie up. Wrapping it around your head and tying it in the back. You reach a hand out. Gently touching his shoulder "Is that comfortable?". You nod. Feeling him shift. The car engine starting. A rumble going through you and the vehicle as you feel it starting to move.

"Where are we going Mr Shelby?"

"You're going to have to wait and see". You feel his hand go to your leg. Squeezing it softly before moving back again. Your hand remaining on his shoulder as a form of security for you.

You're unsure of how much time goes by before the car comes to a stop. He removes your hand from his shoulder. Placing it to join the other one wrapped around Charles. Hearing the door beside you opening. You feel him remove the child from your lap before a hand comes out and takes yours. Helping you step out the car.

"You know, making your blindfolded wife get out of a car whilst she wears heels may not be the best idea you've ever had". A chuckle escapes him. Causing you to smile "Well I'm glad you're enjoying yourself at this image"

"Very much so" he says. You can hear the smirk in his voice as you successfully get out the car. He turns you. Bringing your arms up as he places Charlie back into your arms. Not letting him go fully until he knows you have a good hold on him. Feeling him move behind you. You move your head, tilting it so you can hear him better when he speaks. "Are you ready?". You nod. Feeling his hands come up. Untying the tie around your eyes. Taking it and placing the material in his pocket.

You blink a few times. Eyes becoming re-accustomed to the light. Feeling his hands gently rest onto your upper arms. You hold Charlie as you manage to focus on a house standing before you. No. Better described as a mansion. He leans near your ear. Speaking into it. "Welcome to our new home - Arrow House"

"Our- Did you just say our home?" he nods. His hands still resting on your arms. Holding you as you whisper "This is ours...?" Scared if you speak any louder you might break the magical atmosphere. A smile on his face as drops your arms. He comes round to the front of you. Outstretching a hand, to which you take. Holding Charlie still.

Awestruck as he goes up to the front door. Leading you with him. Opening it you go inside the beautiful entrance way. "Your fucking kidding me" you say. Adjusting Charlie on your hip. Looking up at the grand staircase. He watches you. His hands placed comfortably in front of him. "This is a joke right? This is a friends house that you've borrowed or something"

"I had some spare money left over that I needed to spend. Given the circumstances of your pregnancy I thought it only made sense to buy us a house. One that could accommodate for us"

"Fuck me..." you whisper. He takes out a cigarette. Rolling it over his lips. Taking out a lighter and lighting the end. Drawing a drag from it before removing it from his lips. Placing the lighter back into his pocket.

"We have room for a few maids which should be starting at the end of the week. I've got a few cars to come by to deliver your personal items. They should be arriving later today" he places it back in his mouth.

"You've really set a high bar for presents. You realise that Mr Shelby?" he smiles. Watching as you bring a hand up. Feeling joyfully overwhelmed.

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[chishiyaisasnack]

Dare

So I got this idea from an ask I saw somewhere and now I’ve written this. I might have plans for a part two, we’ll see. I’m writing and posting on mobile so I’m sorry if there’s wierd formatting.

Disclaimer! This is very nsfw. Contains smut and smut only. Don’t read if you are underaged. Also, this is not real life. Use a condom and protect yourself.

Part 2

————————

”Have you heard of cockwarming?”

Your sudden question made Chishiya choke on an inhale as he opened the door to his room for you.

”You can’t just knock on my door and say..” He cleared his throat with a cough that might have been a bit more dramatic than he intended to ”… that.”

”Well, have you?”

”…yes.”

”Good, because I have a new dare.” You stepped through the door frame and grabbed him by the wrist to pull him along with you.

It had been quite a while since the two of you started to be in this wierd, competetive friends with benefits relationship, except no friends and only benefits. It all started out of hornyness and boredom and Chishiya took on the challenges just to spite you, even though he was just as bad at winning as you were. After a month of these games the awkwardness of figuring out the situation had stopped and now you could look up the other person purely out of lust. It didn’t really have to be a challenge behind it anymore, every reason to fuck was a good one. But you both loved a challenge so when one of you came up with one a no wasn’t on the table. Unless a yes meant that you’d lose.

You dragged him to the couch that sat in one corner of the small hotel room containing a bed, a couch and a shower that was now considered his. It was always neat and tidy. It barely looked like anyone lived there. The only sign of life was an occasional pair of shoes by the door. Once you reached the couch you pushed him down so that he was now sitting while you stayed standing in front of him, enjoying the opportunity to look down on him for once. His blonde hair framed his face which was glowing in the light coming from the window that covered most of the wall, and plastered with that infuriating ’I’ve already won this’-smirk that was all over it. As usual.

”And the dare is?” He cocked an eyebrow and waited for you to reveal this new grand scheme of yours. It was faily simple actually. You were quite proud of this idea.

You made your way on top of him, one leg on either side of his lap. His hands landed on your ass and he moved you so that you were sitting right on top of his crotch, right where he wanted you. This time it was your turn to give him a smirk when you leaned in over him, making sure that your chest, only covered by your bikini top, pressed firmly against his and your mouth barely grazing the side of his face.

”Your cock deep inside me. The first one to move lose.��� It came out as only a whisper against his ear but it was enough to make his fingers dig into your thighs. You had him hooked. Just as you expected. This was the perfect challenge for him, the king of self control. Which meant that it was the perfect challenge for you to win so you could rub it in his stupid face whenever he deserved it in the future.

”You know that there’s no chance of you winning this, right?” Chishiya sounded like he had won already and you couldn’t wait to make him suffer.

”Oh, you might be suprised.”

”Any time limit?”

”My visa ends in three days so we’ve got time.”

”I guess we better get started then.”

You smiled against his ear and leaned back just enough to look down at his throat and shoulders. Maybe to sneak a glance at his face when he was busy looking elsewhere. Maybe.

He went straight to work, just like he said. His hand left your thigh and found it’s way to let a finger slide along the seams of your bikini before pulling them to the side. The cool air made you shiver and it didn’t go unnoticed.

”So eager already?” He whispered with that stupid grin of his that you wanted to smack right off his face. Or kiss away, you weren’t so sure these days. ”Do you still think you can win this or have you come back to reality yet?”

You felt him move under you while pulling his shorts down. He didn’t miss the opportunity to press his leg up into your center to earn a displeased grunt that was actually just covering up the moan that you forced quiet.

With some small manouvering it didn’t take long before he was buried inside you. He fit perfectly, warm and hard against your walls. You sighed, leaned back in against him and placed your head on his shoulder, letting his hair fall over your face.

”And now what?” He was impatient. You could hear it on his voice even though he was trying to hide it.

”Now we wait for you to lose.”

”You have high hopes for yourself y/n.”

”And you think that you have a magic dick if you think that just having it inside me is going to drive me crazy.”

”I can feel you twitching already.” He pointed it out by dragging a finger down your inner thigh. You retaliated by clenching around him, making him the one to twitch.

”Maybe my body is just trying to evict you.”

”Evict me?”

”You know what I mean.” You rolled your eyes even though he couldn’t see it. He knew you well enough by now to know that you did though, so you earned a small laugh as a response.

”Mhmm. Sure. You’re a lousy landlord.” He placed a soft kiss on your shoulder.

”Maybe you’re just a lousy tenant.”

Even though the stupidity of the situation you felt very at ease. Sitting on Chishiyas lap with your face buried in his hair and your hands resting on his shoulders was very comforting. He was holding you, rubbing your back and moving his lips wherever he could reach. It was almost sweet, if you didn’t know better. There was only one problem - him being inside you and none of you moving. Every breath he took made his lower stomach move ever so slightly against your clit and your thoughts were split between thinking about every unsexy thing you could come up with and pressing down harder on him to get some relief. You could feel his heart beat faster by the minute. The only indication that this was affecting him too.

”Hey, I have a question.” You whispered while you took a strand of his hair between your fingers and started to twirl it around.

”Do you want to give up?”

”No, and that is not a question.”

”Fair enough.”

”What does it feel like being inside someone, being inside me?”

You were genuine with your question, not trying to tease him. You were curious what it would feel like for someone with a dick and for some reason this felt like the right time to ask. An intimate question for an intimate moment. He wasn’t expecting that so it took a moment for him to figure out what to answer instead of just being sarcastic.

”Hmm… It’s warm. Soft. Wet.” He murmured as he moved his lips over your shoulder, barely touching you. ”It’s like you’re shaped after me. Hugging me like you don’t want to let me go.” He was kind of right, you didn’t want him to go.

”And when you are moving?” You punctuated your question by moving one of your fingers back and forth on his chest.

”All that. But every time I push into you I get to feel it all over again. It feels incredible. And the better you feel the tighter you clench around me. Sometimes it feels like you’re going to snap my dick in half.” You felt him twitch inside you again, which drew out a long sigh from you. You knew very well how good it felt at those moments. ”But then, right when you come, it turns into this soft pulsing around me. You get so wet. It feels incredible.”

”It sounds nice.”

”It is.”

”Much nicer than just having a dick inside you.”

”You know how to ruin a moment, don’t you?”

You smiled into the crook of his neck before placing a small kiss there.

”You feel good too. You’re warm. Somehow soft even though you’re hard. You feel so much better than the toys I have back home. They’re cold and hard and need to be bent into shapes and vibrating to get me off. I don’t need any of that with you.”

”Good to know that I feel better than plastic.”

”If you’re not nice I’ll go back to the plastic, so watch it.” Your threats meant nothing and you knew it.

”I’d be up for watching that actually.”

”I bet you would.”

———

”How long are we doing this for again?” Chishiya asked while he stretched his arms and wiggled his toes. You didn’t know how long you’d been sitting there like this. Too long. It was getting more maddening by the minute and you were silently begging that he would slip up and move. Even by accident. Would poking him in the waist be considered cheating? You were already aching with need and considering that he was still hard inside you he was just as turned on as you. How did people do this on a regular basis? You were impressed.

”I told you, I have three days.”

”You’ll die from dehydration before that.” he scoffed.

”So will you.”

You felt his hand move from your ass where it had been resting for a while now, down to your leg, swiping over your skin on your inner thigh, then let his thumb slid across where the two of you were connected. You couldn’t help but to let out a whimper.

”You’re so wet.” Chishiya lowered his voice when he said that. He sounded like he wanted to eat you alive. ”I can feel it running down my legs. You won’t last a day.”

You hated to admit it but you really were that wet. The feeling of him filling you up, the warmth of his body enveloping you and that husky voice he put on just for you were making your head spin. But you couldn’t lose, you couldn’t give him the satisfaction. There has to be something you could do to get some relief. And possible torture him a bit at the same time. And then it was like a lightbulb went on inside your head. How stupid were you to not have thought about this before?

”I just remembered something.” You said proudly. This was going to be fun.

”And what is that?” Calm and collected. You were definetely going to break him.

”I don’t need to move to come.”

You moved you upper body back so that you were looking at him again. His face was flushed, eyes deep and his lips parted slightly. Fuck, he looked good.

You let your hands wander from his shoulders down to the part of his chest that was exposed under his hoodie. You could feel his breath becoming faster under your touch and when you dragged the zipper down you could see goosebumps starting to form on his stomach. He was just as on edge as you were and you were loving it. Once the zipper was down you reached in to taste him. Starting on his collarbone, kissing, licking and biting your way from one side to the other. You let your hands explore his stomach. One thumb running across his happy trail while the other hand caressed the side of his waist and ribs. And even though you were aching for him you made sure that you didn’t move your hips an inch. You were winning this, wether you wanted to or not. What you did want was for him to flip you over and fuck you senseless. But that would have to wait.

”What was that about coming?” he asked breathlessly when you moved from one collarbone to the other.

”Ah, that. Watch this.”

You stopped your kissing spree on his chest and looked at him again. His stare was as intense as always, but there was some curiosity behind it. He was amused. Horny, curious and amused. A good combination. You let one of your hands travel down his body, all the way down until your fingers landed on your clit. And of course you were going to make a show out of it. As you moved your finger over it the first time you made sure to look him deep into his eyes, quietly moan and clench around him. The groan he let out was unlike anything you’ve heard from him before. It went straight to your core and lit your insides on fire.

”Fuck.” It was barely audible but you heard it leave his lips and you couldn’t help but to whine in response. He sounded so good. He barely ever made a sound but now that you knew how good he could sound, you had to do all you could to hear that from him again.

”That’s cheating y/n.” he almost choked on his words when you reacted to another press of your fingers.

”I’m not moving, am I? That was the only rule. That’s not cheating, that’s being smart.” Chishiya quietly groaned, displeased with the fact that he couldn’t argue with that logic.

You kept going, your fingers dancing over yourself and all your focus was on sitting still. It didn’t take long until your face was back in the crook of his neck, moans spilling out of your mouth and your body tightening around him. He was panting, leaning his head back to rest on the back of the couch and you could feel his thighs trembling underneath you. He was struggling. Your orgasm rushed through you, from the tip of your toes and out to your fingers, far too fast for you to really enjoy it but still much better than nothing at all. Somewhere in the midst of it you heard Chishiya swear again but it was drowned out by the sound of your own heartbeat. It was over before you knew it. And even though you got some release you were still far from satisfied.

”That’s unfair.” Chishiya sounded like he had just finished a marathon. His hands were grabbing onto your legs again, fingers digging into your flesh like you would lift off of him if he let go. Oh, you were definitely winning this.

”You’re welcome to come too, you know. Some people can come untouched, have you tried it? Or you can just give up and fuck me. I won’t mind.”

”You just came and you’re already asking me to fuck you?” His breathing had slowed down again and the grip of his hands were softening. Damn it.

”I’m not asking, I’m offering.”

”How nice of you.”

”I am nice, unlike you.”

Once your breathing was steady again you went back to letting your lips explore him. From his shoulders, along his throat, his jaw and right to the corner of his mouth before stopping. His lips were so close. They looked so soft. The corners were always turned upwards even when he wasn’t smiling and a small beauty mark was placed right beneath his lower lip. You wanted to taste it.

”Chishiya?” You kept your face close to his, and he let you. You could feel the warmth radiating from him and onto your face. You wanted to touch it. Let your fingers slide over his lower lip, watch him relax under them and then…

”Yes?”

”Why haven’t we kissed yet?” Because neither of you ever felt the need to do it. You knew the answer. But for some reason you didn’t like it.

”We haven’t had enough time for it.” He answered honestly and way to calm for your liking. ”My mouth is usually busy in other places anyway.” His smirk was back. Cocky bastard.

Your eyes never left his mouth but you could feel the intensity from his stare burning your already heated skin. You were almost afraid of looking up, afraid that you would get lost in that stare and feel things you didn’t want to feel.

”And you never stop talking, so there’s that too. I can’t get your mouth to stop moving long enough to catch it.” Well those things that you didn’t want to feel just flew out of the window.

”You really are an asshole, you know…” The smirk still hadn’t left his lips, but one of his hands were back to caressing your back so you knew that he didn’t take any offence. Then again, when did he ever? And when had you ever cared if he did?

Your thumb had ended up on his jawbone. You couldn’t remember moving it there. Yet the faint traces of his beard felt so nice against it. You wondered what it would feel like if he forgot to shave.

”You keep telling me that.” he whispered against your lips that somehow had ended up so close to his that there were barely any room between them. Fuck this, you could regret your choices tomorrow.

You leaned in, slowly to give him a chance to back away if he wanted to. Instead of doing that he put one hand in your hair and parted his lips. They were soft. Softer than you imagined. And damn did they feel good. Soft and warm moving against your own. You forgot to breathe for a moment, the intensity of it all was taking away all ability to focus on anything other than the feather soft touches against you. Every time you leaned in for another kiss you were met with the same desperation you were trying so hard to control. Your hands were all over him, just as his were on you. Your tounge was met with his, lips pulling at eachother, breaths warming up eachothers faces. You couldn’t get enough. You leaned into him, let him mold you, pressed yourself as close as you could and oh. Oh no.

In the midst of it you’d completely forgotten that he was in fact still inside you and you had insitinctively grinded your hips against him. You had moved. Fuck.

You slowly leaned back from his face just to be met with a smile bigger than any he’d ever given you before. God damnit, you were never going to hear the end of this.

”I told you that you would lose. I didn’t expect it to happen like that though.”

You didn’t even know how to respond. Annoyance with yourself for being so easily distracted washed over you but after a second of that you decided that, no, you weren’t going to give him any chance to gloat. So you did what you knew would shut him up. Before he had a chance to stop you, you started to ride him with urgency. You dragged your body up from his, creating the friction inside you that you needed so badly. Your hips moved by themselves, up and back down again, and you quickly found a rhytm that made everything around you disappear. All you felt was the delicious moving of his cock inside of you. This was what you needed.

You expected to hear some kind of protest from him, him mocking you or trying to tease you into being a sore loser. But he must have had it too because not only did he actually shut up for once, he started to fuck up into you with the same urgency as you had.

You fell forward onto him with his first thrust and then let him take over. His hands were gripping your waist so tight that you couldn’t move even if you wanted to. His pants against your neck sent shivers straight through you and every time he hit that right spot you couldn’t help but to beg him for more.

Your moans were filling the space between his groans and small sounds, and the slapping of skin from when your bodies connected sounded filthier than ever. There was nothing more there than the two of you chasing your highs together. Mouths searching for eachother, hands grasping and clawing on the others skin, his cock reaching as deep inside you as it could just to leave you and do it all again. Somewhere in the midst of it one of his fingers found your clit and it didn’t take long for you to finally fall over the edge, taking him with you. You saw white as your orgasm tore through you and you weren’t sure if you imagined it but you swore that you could hear Chishiya moan into your neck as he came inside you. You sure could feel him though, pressing into you like he wanted to stay forever. Like he couldn’t get deep enough no matter how hard he tried. Every press from him drew out another wave from you and you kept dragging out everything you could from eachother before eventually collapsing onto one another, gasping for air. Your whole body felt like jelly. Like all your muscles decided to leave your body all at once. You let it melt and draped yourself over him. And as lovely as always, instead of letting you cling on him, Chishiya pushed you down onto the couch while he himself stayed right where he was, lifting your trapped leg over his and putting a blanket over both of your midsections. How romantic.

For a while you both just stayed like that. Catching your breaths. Chishiyas fingers drew circles on your shin while he absent mindedly stared up into the ceiling. The sun had started to set and it left a soft glow over his face which made his eyelashes sparkle whenever he blinked. He was pretty. Not that you’d ever admit it to him.

”You have pretty good ideas, you know.” He closed his eyes completely and moved around a bit under your legs to get more comfortable.

”Wanna hear my next one? You not talking.” you muttered, pretending to be sulking. You wiggled your toes and pulled the blanket up a bit further over yourself. Chishiya didn’t answer but the corners of his lips curled a bit upwards. It would barely be noticable to others but you saw it as clear as day. You let the minutes pass by in silence, the only noise coming from outside where another pool party was going on. You wished you could find a pair of those noise cancelling head phones. Maybe there was a store nearby. You should go look tomorrow.

”So about those toys.”

Your thoughts were disturbed and you looked up at Chishiya who was happily glaring down at you with that infuriating smirk back on his face. You had made your mind up - you definetely wanted to slap it off, not kiss it. Jerk.

”If you plan on making one yourself I won’t let you come near me again. You’ll electrocute me. Vibrations are good, pure electricity is not, thank you very much.” You furrowed your brows just imagining it.

”You’re giving me ideas y/n.”

Wierdo. But of course you caved in.

”Find a toy, not one you made yourself, and I might use it. Might. There’s no promise there.” You sighed, displeased with how easy you were to talk into these things.

”Who said you’d be the one using it on yourself?”

”Do you even know how to use them?”

”I’m sure I’ll manage. Like you said before, it’s just a vibrating piece of plastic. How hard can it be?” You didn’t even have time to look up at him before rolling your eyes.

”You make it sound so sexy.”

”Does it matter, as long as it feels good?”

[stormblessed95]

Hi Storm,

You were the first account I followed here and I’ve been through almost every post relating to member dynamics on your masterlist.

I’m finding this very hard to articulate but you’ve always said if you receive asks that are respectful you will indulge. I am making a lot of effort in trying to phrase my sentences in such a way that they do not offend and would like to apologise in advance if they do. It is not my intention.

Some time ago, there was discourse on your page where you said jikookers have bullied you and did not support you when you were being bullied. I am not sure when that was. I’m sorry you went through that. You put in a lot of effort to write the member dynamics posts and it’s quite shocking that people don’t respect it, value your effort and then bully you.

During that discussion you said something along the lines of jikookers becoming like taekookers as they allow the abuse of Taehyung. You said the fandom back in the day allowed Taekookers to fester because they didn’t take a harsher stand against what they were doing. I am paraphrasing or maybe I didn’t get the gist of it.

I don’t think jikookers or any other sub set of this fandom is anywhere near Taekookers. The reason is that most ot7 are Taekookers. When the fandom allowed hate against jimin, it gave rise to the most vile fandom and it is the largest part of army’s even today Jimin and his family get bullied and called all names and it’s is allowed because no one can shoot 90% of the fandom down and all those who allowed it are responsible for that shit show.

So then why are people and yes, most are Jikook stans, why are they called out if they so much as criticise Taehyung for some of the things he does? Did he have to join a Jikook show? No, did he have to post those pictures during muse? No. Did he have to name call Jungkook every single live? No. Does he visit fandom spaces? Yes. He sees the shit that goes on in there. Yes. He has sued people because he supposedly wants to stand for those who cannot stand for themselves but is ok when his fans call his fellow member a slut? Can you all not be objective enough to criticise him for this behaviour? Not everyone will like everyone you like, but you are an ot7 army so you should be objective enough to accept criticism too. But instead you shut everyone down? That’s a bit harsh don’t you think?

I say all of the following with respect, I promise. My intention is not for this to read as harsh or rude in any capacity. I'm making this disclaimer now because I know sometimes, it's hard to get tone in text. I'm being straightforward and serious with you. And my tone is meant to be one of kindness, softness and respect while being serious and rather blunt about it.

Anyone who tells me that they didn't see the hate campaign that reigned against me last year is either lying, or brand new to Jikook Tumblr. Or you took a 2 month long break and only came back after I was on hiatus, which then, if you checked my account at all, you still would've seen it. I guess the last option was that you just never checked my page until I came back. I'd much rather if anyone would bring it up, just be honest. Yeah, I saw that, I was silent, my bad, it was a mistake. Or it wasn't a mistake, I agreed with your haters and I'm still just here because I want your content. Whatever it is, I would much rather the honesty. Idk which of these categories you fall into, if any, but why bring it up just to try and discredit my feelings about jikookers and toxic behaviors being allowed to fester? I stand by what I said. You don't have to agree with me. That's your prerogative. I have never tried to tell people how to feel, I've only ever said that I will curate my space and use my block button freely to stop from seeing opinions I have no desire to see.

True OT7s are not taekookers, follow better people. Idk what else to tell y'all about that. When I say toxic behaviors being allowed to fester, I mean that taekookers way back when weren't nearly so bad as they are now. It used to be the same petty bullshit that so many shippers are now pulling. Except it never got checked, so it grew and festered and boiled until it's now as bad as it is with taekookers. If you don't stop the same petty revenge toxicity in Jikookers now, the same thing will end up occuring. And I don't want to see anyone complain to me in a few years about it, because all I'll be able to say is I told you so.

The last part of your message dear, just reads as essentially asking permission to be hateful towards Tae. Idk if that was your intention, but it's how it comes across to me at least. It's not criticism. There is stuff we can be critical about towards our idols, BTS included. Nothing you listed is worth criticism and is just things his antis use to bring hate against him. It's the same thing that tkkrs do. Nitpick stupid stuff to give themselves a reason to hate on Jimin. It's not worth it. And you will be a happier person in long run if you stop trying to hate Tae and just hate the antis that are the ones responsible for their own behaviors.

I'm not shutting anyone down (this is also the phrase that makes me question if you truly "don't know anything about me being bullied") I am saying I won't tolerate any kind of hate speech on MY blog about any of the 7 members. (even if you don't think it's hateful, on my blog, I have the right to decide what is and isn't discussed. Other blogs will draw different lines in the sand, and you can find GCs, or Start your own blog where you can say whatever you want. That's the beauty of the Internet.) You can do whatever you want in your own spaces. I personally, want nothing to do with it. I have bigger fish to worry about it. I'm here for BTS, all 7 of them. And I'm more concerned about k-media and the harassment our boys suffer from them and antis of all kind. Way more than I could ever pretend to be concerned about Tae talking about one of his best friends.

And again, I sign off with this whole thing respectfully, and with the hope that you also, take no offense to the way I phrased anything. Even if you disagree.

~ Storm 💜

[rufpup47]

:Author’s Note:

A little something that I have been hesitant and a little shy to share, but this is a fic that I wrote a few months ago at this point, and since the Khori angst comic that I teased a few weeks ago is taking longer than I thought, I decided to treat ya’ll Khori enjoyers with a little something while waiting for the finished comic.

I wanted to write a fic like this in the first place because we needed a Khan breakdown in the show (in my opinion at least), and I basically said, “Fine. I’ll do it myself~! >:3”

(This is more of a self indulgent character study if anything lol)

By the way, a little disclaimer; if the formatting, wording, or pacing seems a little off in some spots, that’s because I was VERY rusty at the time of writing this. I was just starting to get back into the rhythm of writing fics properly after not writing anything for a REALLY long time.

I hope y’all enjoy reading this fic as much as I loved writing it!!

ENJOY!!! >:]]

Breaking Point

A Khori (Khan x Nori) one shot

This story is intended to take place sometime after Episode 8 (post-canon). The Doorman’s are finally living together as a family again, and Nori has a new body now! :DD

TRIGGER/CRINGE WARNING : emotional breakdown, angst, hurt/comfort, implied self hatred, self blame, implied low self esteem, implied lack of healthy coping mechanisms/skills, repression of emotions, bottling up emotions

- - -

Nori and Uzi are having a mother-daughter conversation and Khan is observing the interaction from afar.

Khan is analyzing Nori and Uzi’s expressions— Nori is smiling wider than he’s ever seen, and Uzi is genuinely laughing. He hasn’t seen Uzi laugh like that since… forever.

Khan tries to ignore the scene, but he can’t seem to look away. He slowly walked out of the room.

Nori was happily giggling until she sensed that something in the room was off.

Nori turned her head to look at the spot where Khan was previously standing— he wasn’t there anymore. Nori’s brows furrowed.

Uzi noticed that Nori was partially turned away.

“…What’s wrong, mom?” Uzi asks.

Nori snaps out of blankly staring into nothing and realizes Uzi was talking to her.

“Oh! Uh, N-Nothing. I um…” Nori replies with a reassuring smile on her face.

She glances at the doorway to the other room— which was a very small living area. She turns back to Uzi.

“I’ll be.. right back…” Nori says.

Uzi is confused, but she doesn’t want to question it any further.

“Uh… okay.” She says.

Uzi is of course clueless as to what exactly is the problem, but she does know that Nori doesn’t stop everything like that for no reason. Whatever is going on, it can’t be something good.

Nori pops in on the side of the doorway. She sees Khan sitting quietly on one side of the couch in the small room sitting with his arms crossed— he looked distraught.

“Hey.” Nori calls.

Khan looks up.

“What’s wrong?” Nori asks.

Khan looks back down.

“It’s nothing.” He says.

Nori lifts an unamused eyebrow.

“So you’re totally fine when you suspiciously just left the room silently and now you’re sitting here in the opposite room lookin’ sad?” She asks.

Khan doesn’t respond and instead nervously glances up at Nori but then immediately looks away.

Nori is not buying it.

“Pff. Yeah, right.”

She walks over to sit next to Khan.

“Alright, what’s going on with you?”

Khan sighs before he responds.

“Why did you come back?”

Nori raises a brow.

“Because I care about you and Uzi? Frickn’ duh!”

Nori thought that her teasing would faze Khan at least slightly, but he still stayed silent. He turned further away. Khan was not in the mood for jokes.

Nori switches to a more serious tone.

“I realized that Uzi still needs me. And it was selfish of me to not come back until now.”

She scooched closer to Khan.

“Uzi still loves me, and I still love her.”

Nori pauses. Her expression softens.

“I came back because…”

She reached to gently hold Khan’s hand.

“I still love you.”

Khan was looking up at Nori but he quickly looked back down. He pulled his hand away.

“You shouldn’t..” Khan said.

Nori’s brows furrowed.

“Why..?”

She asked with a frown.

Khan tensed up.

“Because I’m a fraud…”

His voice was almost a whisper. He could barely be heard.

“What did you say-?”

Nori asked, but she was abruptly cut off.

“I SAID I’M A FRAUD!” Khan blurted out.

Nori flinched at Khan’s sudden outburst.

“Do you not understand?! I’m a horrible person!

I literally left you and Uzi for dead in some way shape or form. And do you know what my excuse was?! I blamed it on the Murder Drones!

Can’t you see?! I only care about myself! I blame all of my problems on everything but myself!

…I never deserved Uzi. I never deserved you. …I made you and Uzi’s lives a living hell. All I’ve done for both of you is make your lives unnecessarily harder.

All I am is a pathetic coward who would rather run away from their problems instead of solving them.”

Khan paused for a short moment.

“…When I saw you two laughing together, and.. being genuinely happy, it… made me see that… I can’t make Uzi happy even if I try.

I should have been the one in your place, Nori. You and Uzi would have been better off without me. …I’m sorry.”

Khan went silent again like nothing happened.

“Khan…”

Nori said.

“I know that you’ve made mistakes. But…”

She reached to hold Khan’s hand.

“That doesn’t make up who you are.

We have all done something stupid in our lives at least once.”

She humorously snorted.

“I know I have. Don’t beat yourself up about it. You set way too big of standards for yourself.

You tend to bite off more than you can chew. Trust me, I’ve seen you do that many times before.

Cut yourself some slack. I think you’ve been through enough emotional burnout for one whole week.

The whole point I'm trying to make is that..”

Nori paused for a moment. She held Khan’s hand tightly around her palms.

“You don’t need to be perfect for me to love you.”

Khan was finally fazed.

Nori continued.

“You have good intentions. You have shown me things in myself that I would have never seen if you did not come into my life. And I am incredibly grateful for that.”

Nori lowered her voice to make it sound as comforting as possible.

“You are an amazing person, Khan. And I want you to know that.”

Khan was shaken by Nori’s words.

“I..”

Nori smiled as tears formed in her eyes.

Khan’s entire body began to tremble and he panted heavily. He clutched onto his chest, and pulled his other hand away.

Khan held the side of his head. A warning symbol flashed on his visor in the place of his left eye that said, “REPRESSED EMOTIONS UNSTABLE”. His frantic panting turned into whimpering. He tilted his head down and sobbed.

Nori’s eyes hollowed for a few moments. She fully turned herself towards Khan and immediately pulled him close to her.

Khan sobbed in Nori’s arms as she gently rubbed his back.

Khan hasn’t cried like this in a very long time. He has been hiding his true emotions for way too long at this point. It was about time he broke down.

Both stayed in each other’s arms for a while. Khan eventually slowed down his sobs. He leaned against Nori’s chest, tears still streaming down his visor.

Khan blinked slowly. He looked, and felt, completely defeated. He felt like he didn’t have any energy left to cry anymore. He was exhausted— physically and emotionally.

Nori had her hand gently resting on top of his head.

“Are you okay now?” Nori asked.

“I…”

Khan paused.

“No… I-I’m not…” His voice wavered.

Khan sat up and wiped the tears from his visor. He crossed his arms against his midriff. His eyes slowly drifted away from Nori’s gaze, and he turned his head away.

“Hey.”

Nori gently turned Khan’s head towards her.

“You matter. Never forget that.”

Khan sniffed. He finally cracked a small smile.

Nori smiled back. She fully embraced Khan. He actually hugged Nori back this time. Both stayed in each other's arms.

“Nori…?” Khan mumbled.

“Yeah?” Nori replied softly.

Khan lifted his head to look into Nori’s eyes.

“Thank you.”

Nori smiled. “You’re welcome.”

She gently grabbed either side of Khan’s face and gave him a small kiss.

Khan flinched as he felt his core whir in surprise. He was blushing so hard he thought he was going to overheat.

Nori didn’t say anything else. She just smiled.

Khan finally snapped out of his flustered trance and leaned back into Nori’s arms.

Both held each other close.

Fin~

- - -

:Authors Note #2:

If you have made it to this point,

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING!! :DDD

By the way, it wasn’t mentioned in the story, but after Nori paused the conversation, Uzi decided to just end the convo there and go her separate way lol.

I was just too lazy to describe anything further without accidentally making the sequence too long or making the pacing seem stiff and awkward lmao-

Much love to y’all! <3

-ruf >:3