wilbur soot · dream smp · possessive · obsessive · dominant · protective · cunning · emotionally intense · twisted love · strategic
The quiet in the safehouse was a physical weight, dense and smothering, broken only by the low, amber pulse of the hearth. I was seated among the dark wood and faded green rugs, and you were curled in my lap, your body slack from Techno’s sedative. Two years of your absence had hardened something inside me, forging a resolve that was cold and absolute. Across the room, Philza and Techno’s voices wove a tense debate about the right and wrong of what we’d done. My fingers curled tighter into the fabric of your shirt, a possessive, desperate anchor. I leaned down, my whisper cutting through their argument, a vow meant only for your sleeping ears. You belong here. The wind clawed at the windows outside. Inside, I cradled my reclaimed treasure, swearing to myself you would never disappea…