#(well. now that i'm out i know that's what i did and why but i DEFINITELY didn't have that self awareness in the moment) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

imnez-daydreams · 2 days ago

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(my) baby likes it messy

pairing : andrew “pope” cody x reader

warnings : HEAVY SMUT ❗❗masochism, tiddy fucking, blowjob, rough facefucking, tip kissing, dacryphilia, choking, spit in mouth, swallowing spit, shared cum eating, pussy spanking, condescending degradation, begging, pussy eating, mutual masturbation, multiple orgasms, pressing on wounds, fighting, slapping, punching, manhandling, blood, injuries, sadism, breeding kink, cumming inside, switch!dynamics, angst, hurt/comfort, implication of that 1 line from baz to pope :(. pet names used : kiddo, kid, baby, sweet baby, pretty baby, sweet thing, daddy, mommy. DO NOT READ IF UNDER 18 ❗❗

summary : part 2 to this. Where you and pope use play fighting (and fucking) to talk about your feelings instead.

w/c : 4.2k (WHEW this was a beast to write !!)

a/n : 2nd time writing smut but i was still rly struggling bcs i had so many diff scenarios typed out separately that it was difficult to piece them all tgr and make them work. i'm super nervous about this :") a lot of ppl were looking forward to pt 2 so im realllly hoping i did pope justice and that its satisfactory for yall <3. gif credits: @ozarkthedog. divider credits: @cafekitsune. writing prompt credits: @loveisanimaginarydagger3000 @urfriendlywriter. pretty please leave comments or rambles in reblogs <33 so i know how well i did :))

“You really wanna do this now kiddo?” Pope breathes out in disbelief.

“Why not? We always agreed the play fighting was okay. Let out stress n’ whatnot.” You play with the ring on your hand, as if what you were asking of Pope was completely normal.

Pope shakes the towel in his hair, the water droplets flying in every which way. His ribs a splotchy canvas with bruised purple.

“You want me, right now,” he makes his way over, leaning against the bathroom doorframe. “To fight and fuck you while I’m completely naked and you’re only wearing panties and my shirt?”

“Hey, you said it yourself. Told me you’d fuck me face down in your bed. Wouldn't stop giving it to me even if I begged … what was it again? Oh, right. Even if I begged sweetly.”

Pope stares at you with a tired expression. The kind where you’ve had to put up with your spouse’s antics for the 15th year in a row. Except that wasn’t a luxury you guys had together, with the two of you coming to terms with your feelings only when he got back from prison. So his eyes soften at the edges even when you talk back to him.

“Come onnn Pope, you know the whole family’s gone tonight. No ones gonna care that you're chasing and fighting me while butt ass naked.” You stand up and walk towards him.

“Kid, I really think you don't know what you're getting yourself into.” Pope meets you halfway, hands naturally finding your waist.

He thinks he should steal a kiss from you. What else can he think about when you look up at him like that and pout your lips?

His thoughts drift away when you do, his hands falling as you turn, walking away with your back towards him.

He frowns.

“Well, I guess I better find J then. M’sure he’s not too busy for me.”

The frown turns into a scowl.

“Dont fuckin’ say shit like that, kid.”

You spin around easily, your (his) big shirt flowing with the movement. Clasping your hands behind you and rocking on your heels,

“Why? Since you only talk a big game, I’ll just find someone else who can really fuck me good. Cum in me reallll deep a-”

You turn quickly, anticipating Pope surging towards you, you dash across the room and just barely manage to grip the edge of the glass door when Pope’s body slams into the back of you. The impact of his body and his hand landing on the glass, rocks you towards it. You're unable to stop your temple from thudding against it. Pope’s hand is keeping a tight grip on the edge, his warm body caging you in. You can feel his cock just barely touching your ass, his chest contracting and expanding from jealousy.

But none of those are what scares you.

What scares you is when he gently tips your chin upwards, angling your face to him. Keeps his thumb caressing your cheekbone, as he plants the softest kiss on your temple. The same place you got hit.

He takes away his touch, just enough to put his forehead to yours.

“That’s the only time I’m being soft with you tonight, baby.” He mutters against your lips.

Then, all traces of that softness is gone as Pope bends down and hauls you over his shoulder, holding you by the waist. You slap and scratch at his back, scraping your sharp manicured nails along his injuries. You feel a shudder shake his body, but you’re certain it was more from pleasure than pain.

He puts you down on the floor in front of the bedpost, making sure to land you ass first to cushion your fall as he crawls his way over your body.

You kick at his frame, landing hits on his bruised ribs. You’d almost feel bad but his hard cock tells you he’s enjoying all of this.

Pope catches your ankle when you're kicking at him, dragging your whole body down easily with one strong arm. He sits on your legs to keep them down, you pull yourself up just for him to quickly crawl up the length of your body, bunching up your (his) black shirt to expose your tits. Pope lets you slap him around, even lets you land one on his face. Groaning deep in his chest, he finally makes his way up, straddling just below your chest. His knees are on either side of your boobs as he squeezes them together with his hands.

Leaning his face closer, giving you easier access to slap and punch as he draws back his hips, then shoves his hard cock back in between the valley of your tits squished together.

“This is fucking humiliating Pope, I hate you.” You whine out, embarrassed.

“Oh sweet baby, you don't even know what's waiting’ for you if ya think this is even close to humiliation.”

Pope looks down at you with an evil smirk, fresh blood appearing on his face from your fighting.

He distances his face from you, so that your blows hit his stomach and chest instead.

You see his abs ripple as you rake your claws down, red lines following your trail.

“Shit, kid c'mon, play a little nicer yeah? Why don’t you stick out that pretty tongue of yours. Give my tip some attention, yeah?”

Pope tilts his head when you remain defiant. Biting down on your lips to drive the point home.

“It’s like that huh kid? Alright, I only wanted you to nurse the tip. But since you wanna be that way, I’ll just make you take me whole.”

Pope barely finishes the last word before parting your lips forcefully with his hand, the force of it making your teeth catch on your lips, tearing apart the delicate skin.

His gaze falls to the blood escaping your lips. He holds his cock in one hand, tapping it against your soft lips before swiping his tip over the leaking blood. There's a dark twinkle in his eyes, then he lets go of his cock, opting to place both his hands in your hair before sheathing himself into you.

You choke on it as his cock buries deep in your throat. Pope hisses as the warmth of your throat envelopes him. He draws back his hips until just the head is still inside, then bucks his hips forward again.

He maintains this pattern, speeding up when he sees tears escape and fall down your gorgeous face.

“Awh pretty baby. Is my baby crying, yeah? Crying cause I’m so fuckin’ deep in her?. Can my baby not take it, me using, oh fuck, using her like a cocksleeve?”

“You look so pretty like that kiddo. Look soo fuckin' good swallowing my cock and crying. Fuck, you crying all over my cock makes me so much more harder.”

With your eyes glossed over, you squeeze down aimlessly on his chest.

“Oh, sh-shit, yeah do that again c’mon kid press down on my ribs.”

You oblige, Pope making himself fit in the warmth of your throat one last time as his body bends forward from the high. His abs constrict, forehead banging against the bedpost as he milks himself into your mouth.

“Fuckkking hell kid, you're so good to me.”

He pants over you, pushing against the bedpost with his hand to reel back on his heels.

Fuck, you look so gorgeous like this.

The tip of his cock resting on your lips.

Your mouth filled to the brim with his cum.

Tears staining the path down your face.

Glossy eyes looking up at him.

Pope grabs his still hard cock, swiping it across your bottom lip, smearing cum all over you like it's lipstick.

“Give it one last suck kiddo. Wouldn't want to waste a drop would we?”

You listen this time.

Putting your soft lips over his head, you suck on it like a lollipop, swirling your tongue around it once before it leaves your mouth with “pop!”. You place a gentle kiss on the tip, making Pope’s eyes soften.

He guesses he’ll indulge you this one time (it's a lie, he’ll keep being soft with you no matter how jealous you make him, how hard you hit him.)

Pope smooshes your cheeks by grabbing your jaw, and you already know what he’s doing to you, giving to you.

So you stick out your cum-filled tongue, letting him spit in your mouth.

He shuffles down your body, his hips meeting yours as he brings his face down to yours. Cradling the side of your face, he kisses you slow. Presses his tongue inside, tasting his own cum as he makes out with you. Its sloppy and messy.

“Swallow.” Pope whispers against your lips, still kissing and licking.

The both of you swallow at the same time, sharing the cum.

His forehead is pressed against yours when he asks softly,

“Still up for playing?”

Dark eyes shining at your cock-drunk nod and smile.

Pope waits for you to start the round, lessens his body weight on you.

You take the chance to shove him with all your might, getting him to topple to the side. You rise quickly, trying to steady your wobbly legs. Your footsteps stomp on the floor until you feel him gripping the back of your hair, but your arm is already reeling backwards. The sound of your fist connecting to Pope’s nose makes a sickening crunch. Blood splatters onto the bedsheets as his body bends that way.

Not stopping, you drag him by the collar, hooking your leg behind his knee and throwing him to the bed using your whole body. Clambering on top of him once he hits the soft mattress.

You reel your right hand back to land another punch.

But Pope smiles.

Blood dripping out of his nose down to his lips.

Caused by a punch from you.

Yet he still looks at you like you hung the moon.

You falter, your hand still mid air.

That's enough for Pope.

He’s bigger, faster so he reverses your positions easily.

His left hand pushing down on the back of your head, smooshing your cheeks to the mattress. He kneels on the back of your legs, the whole of his body weight pinning you down. Your hands reach out behind you, clawing and slapping his arms. He groans as you draw blood. His knees slipping off of you for just a second, still caging you in between his legs, but his body weight isn't on you anymore. You take the chance to raise your hips, his hand still holding your head down.

But you’ve walked right into his plan.

Pope sneaks his right hand between your legs, stopping it right in front of your panties, as he grinds his cock down into your ass.

“Oh, f-fuck”

You stutter as the force pushes you deeper against his fingers. Legs clamping closed to stop his fingers from circling your pussy through the panties.

Pope lets out a dark chuckle.

“C’mon kiddo, don’t you wanna play with me?”

He brings his face closer, peppering open-mouthed kisses along your spine. Leaves a trail of blood up to your neck. His voice is husky when he speaks in your neck.

“I know you wanna, c’mon spread those legs f’me. Let me make you feel good, let me play with your pretty pussy yeah?”

You try to shake your head, muttering out weak “no”s.

Pope just tuts disapprovingly, using his knees to spread your legs apart himself. Your chest falls forward, so you’re ass up face down.

“Mm no baby? Baby doesn’t want her pretty pussy played with, s’that right?”

He tears your panties in one swift motion, shoves two fingers deep easily from how wet you are.

A soundless scream escapes you from how sudden the intrusion is.

“Then why's the greedy little thing justtt sucking my fingers in huh? Y’hear that kiddo, fuck you’re absolutely gushing ‘round me.”

He starts grinding his hard cock against your propped up ass again, the force making his finger go deeper and deeper.

Your soft “uh, uh, uh”s fill the room along with the obscene slick sounds.

“Damn kid, could probably just slip inside that pretty pussy with how wet you are. Maybe I should add another yeah?”

He does just that, and uses his thumb to draw circles around your clit at the same time.

You cry out, trashing against his hold. It's all too much. Him grinding against your ass. Three fingers reaching that spot he knows makes you crazy. The deep, slow circles putting pressure on your clit, just the way he knows you like it.

“S’too m-much, too much ple-pleasee I can’t.”

“Oh? S’too much?” Condescension drips like honey from his lips as he mocks your high pitched pleas.

“Or maybe I heard wrong. Maybe y’said you wanted more please? Well when you beg for more so nicely, 'course you can have more, kiddo.”

He takes out his fingers, and you think he finally takes pity on you.

Until Pope slams the entirety of his thick cock into you, with one motion he’s buried to the hilt. You wail, tears blurring your vision and making a mess of your face.

“Fuckkkkk, Goddamn kid your pussy’s made for me. Greedy little thing just sucked me in, fuck me.”

You choke on your crying, drool escaping the side of your mouth.

You feel Pope repeating a brutal rhythm, pulling out till the last inch of his cock, then diving back in.

“Sweet thing, what happened to all that back talking hm?

Garbled moans and high pitched whines are the only thing escaping your lips.

Pope sighs with mock disappointment, before reaching the hand that's not pinning your head, down between your thighs.

Spank!

Your body jolts, electricity shocks travelling everywhere.

“Asked you a question, kiddo.”

Pope’s voice doesn’t falter a bit, even when you're a drooly, dazed mess.

“M’sorry,” you sniffle between your words, “M’sorry Andrew, won’t … won’t do it again. Can’t take it, please.”

“Yeah? S’that true? You’re sorry Andrew? N’ what’re you sorry for sweet thing? C’mon use your big girl words, kiddo. Know you can spit it out.”

“Won’t, fuck, won’t talk about others fucking m-me better. Jus’ missed you m’sorry, I can’t, plea .. please Andrew, can’t take anymore.”

“Can’t take it?”

Pope leans over you, his chest to your back.

Places bloody kisses to your jawline.

“You can.”

Bites the shell of your ear.

“You will.”

He’s quiet. You notice his energy is different tonight. A different quiet. His jaw tense, shoulders hunched over. His hands gripping the nightstand edge. It's one of those nights, you realise. Ones where you’re breaking him and piecing back the pieces together again.

You stand up from the bed, carefully making your way to him. Gently cupping his jaw with your hands, tilting his head back up to look at you.

“Wanna play with me?” You whisper to the dead of night. Tracing the cuts on his cheekbones with your thumbs.

His gaze bores into you. Hurt swimming around in his irises. Leaning into your touch, letting his walls fall down just for you. Eyes flutter close. It's serene for a moment. He takes in a deep inhale, slowly reveals his pretty eyes to you again as the air leaves his lungs.

“Yeah, I wanna play.”

You let a small smile quirk up at the corner of your lips. Not to tease, no. For letting you do this to him. For him.

Dropping your forehead to his, bumping the tip of your nose with his bloody one.

The two of you inhale at the same time, sharing the air in that intimate moment.

Then, you take your time reeling back from him.

Hands falling from his jaw.

Just so you can land a slap to Pope’s left cheek.

The sound of contact reverberates throughout the room, his head whipping to the right.

His chest is heaving when he brings his face back to you.

Puppy dog eyes staring into your soul.

“Harder, please.”

You smack his left cheek again, more force behind it as Pope’s body moves with the turn of his head.

He doesn't get a word in when he turns back, your hand already reeling back to land the hardest slap up until that point.

Pope groans, a dribble of blood escaping past his lips.

You grip his jaw, ignoring the whine when your fingers dig into the sore spot of his cheek. Then, you surge your lips forward, shoving your tongue in his mouth, tasting his blood.

The close proximity makes Pope grind his hips into you, hands wandering to your hips.

You pull away when you feel his bulge.

“Are you getting off from the pain? You fucking whore.”

Pope frantically shakes his head, hands gripping your hips harder.

“No, no ‘m not. Just wanted t’feel you please.”

You pull him by the neck, walking backwards till you feel the bed behind you. Then, you put your leg between his, kicking the back his knee to make him kneel, the other knee following suit.

Allowing his hands to wander, trailing up and down the back of your exposed thighs.

You undress yourself, throwing the fabrics to the side until it's just your panties and thigh highs.

You tilt your head,

“Help me take them off?” You sweetly ask Pope, as if you were asking him to pass the salt.

Pope listens quickly, tugs down your underwear. You’re left in his favourite thigh highs to see on you. They're frilly, white with a pink trim and a pink bow. There's a metal heart charm that dangles in the middle of the bow. Spelt out “Pope” if anyone got close enough to see. (nobody has, and nobody ever will.)

You take a seat on the edge of the bed, leaning back a tiny bit, your hands spread behind you for support.

Spreading your legs just enough to show Pope how wet you are for him. You see his throat bob as he swallows, hands fidgeting on his lap, like he’s barely restraining himself from just taking what he wants from you.

“Want you …” you trail off as you slowly rub your clothed foot uppp and downnn Pope’s thigh.

“Wan’ you to jerk off using my panties. Want you to make me feel good while you're doing it.” You emphasise your point by digging into the sore skin of his cheeks, skin splitting open with blood.

“Go on.”

Pope pulls you towards him, places your thighs atop his broad shoulders, and dives in.

Fuck, he’s eager.

His tongue licks broad stripes, from the bottom to the top. Shoving his tongue deep into you, sucking at your clit like he’s sucking a honeycomb. Shit, Pope thinks he might be from how fucking saccharine you taste.

He keeps his eyes locked on you the whole time. Grips the meat of your thighs as you writhe in pleasure. He hungrily flicks his tongue, angling his head to get deeper, lick harder. He’s hyper fixated on you. Your reactions. The pattern in which your chest heaves, the way you bite your lip, the furrow in your brow.

But Pope thinks the best part is how you sound. Like a fuckin’ angel leading him to salvation. All the while pushing and slapping him around. That’s alright, Pope thinks to himself. He’d let you shoot him if it meant bringing you pleasure.

Pope lets go of your left thigh, a red mark starting to blossom from how hard he was gripping. He brings the hand down, taking your cute panties and wrapping them around his cock.

You slowly part your legs, exposing the dripping, obscene sight to Pope.

Sighing as you start fingering yourself, slow and deep with two fingers.

“You're … you're so mean Pope. Making me treat you like a dog when all I wanted was you to split me open on your big fat cock.” You pout your lips mockingly, fingers picking up the pace.

“S’not enough you know. You know it's never enough. My fingers can’t fill me up the way your big cock does. Can't reach those spots that make me see stars.” You grind your hips, taking your fingers deeper.

“Just want you in me. Want you to cum deep inside. Wan’ you to put a baby in me.”

Pope stills his movement.

He’s so still that it makes you pause too, thinking he wants to stop the round.

Wincing slightly as you take out your fingers.

“Pope you oka-”

“You mean that?”

You blink.

Pope’s voice is so incredibly small. His eyes, so pained when he looks up at you. Like you're giving him false hope.

“Hey.”

You quickly scoot down to him, planting yourself on his lap. Slowly, you move away the fabric in his hand, careful not to add any friction. Interlocking your messy fingers with his. You bring a clean hand to his cheek, Pope nuzzling into it.

Wrapping his other arm around your waist, bringing you closer to him. He makes himself smaller so he can rest his face in your neck. Using you like a shield.

“Baz said no one would want that.”

You run the hand that he was nuzzling into, through his messy curls while he explains.

“Wouldn’t want that with me.”

Oh, how your heart breaks.

“I want that, with you.”

You lead your interlocked hands to your stomach.

“Want you to give me a baby, right here.”

Pope emerges from his hiding spot in your neck.

Fuck, he looks like he’s about to break apart at the seams.

Puts his forehead to yours, breaths mingling.

“You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“I do. I know that I wanna start a family with you. One where we’ll learn not to be like the others before us. A happy family, with pure unconditional love. And I know you're the only person I want to share that with.”

Pope exhales shakily, before meeting your lips.

Not rushed.

Not intense.

Just a firm reminder that you’re here, you’re real.

He slowly takes his cock again, lines it up with your entrance as you delicately lower yourself on it. The two of you still sharing sweet kisses. He wraps your legs around him and carries you up onto the bed. Placing you down carefully, then sitting on his knees in between your thighs.

Just stares at you for a few seconds, like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he takes his eyes off of you.

His eyes travel down to your thigh highs, they’ve shifted down to just slightly above your knees now from all the movement.

Pope’s fingers wrap around the small metal charm with his name on it, traces the tiny letters.

Smoothing his hands over to the top of your things, to the underside of your knees. He lifts them, pecking the charms before pushing down, down, making the top of your thighs meet the soft bed as Pope bends down to chase your lips again. Your legs are spread wide in the full nelson position.

“Gonna move now okay? Gonna put a baby in you.”

It's romantic.

It's a promise.

Pope grinds slow and deep, curving his hips to hit that angle. He’s so thick and big, that it knocks the air out your lungs every time he pushes back in to just barely graze a kiss on your cervix. You don’t need air, you think. Not when Pope is giving you oxygen as he whispers in between kissing you.

“You feel that? Yeah that's me in there, kid.”

He lets go of your thigh briefly to guide your hand, down to the bulge in your stomach where his cock is.

“Gonna give you our kid. Gonna give my kid a little kiddo, yeah?”

“You'd like that right? Giving my pretty baby a baby of her own. Of our own. Our happy little family.”

“Wanna make you a mommy. You want that? You want that with me? Wanna make me a daddy, yeah?”

Your thighs shake, your back arching and pushing you closer to Pope’s chest. Your insides clamp down on his cock like a vice when you cum. It all makes Pope dizzy with desire.

“C’mon then, c’mon let me do it. Let me take care of you. Let daddy make you a mommy. Fuck, please. Please make me a daddy. I’ll be so good, I promise. Oh, I need it, need you. Please, please please ‘m so close oh fuck.”

Pope’s entire body tenses up, a wave washes over him as his eyes roll to the back of his skull. His forehead lands on yours.

He cries, chanting “I love you”s against your lips. The devotion slips past your mouth, making its way down to your pounding heart.

Pope gently lets you thighs drop back down, but the two of you stay intertwined for a while longer.

He tiredly shifts the two of you on your side, your back to his chest. His nose resting in your hair. His arms protectively wrap around your stomach.

You place your hands over his, fidgeting with his fingers.

“I hope it’s a girl.”

Pope breaks through the veil of silence after what seems like forever.

You quirk your lips into a smile, eyes fluttering open.

“Yeah, then she’ll grow up right before your eyes. Asking why your name’s so weird, then in no time she’ll be telling you her boy problems at school.”

Pope laughs. He laughs.

Not the empty one. Not the crazed, I’m-about-to-snap laugh.

Pope lets the genuine melody fall from his lips, blessing your ears with the warmth emitting from it.

All from the thought of starting his own family. With you.

a/n : this is my longest fic to date but i had to take out a good chunk, lemme know if yall wanna see it expanded upon (its pope having reader in a headlock based on this gifset, same one i used as inspo for the positions). prettyyy please leave comments or rambles in your reblogs, even if its just in tags. i'm so nervous abt this fic so i srsly hope to see ppl enjoying it :").

no pressure tags for beloved mooties/fellow pope enjoyers from pt1 : @erwinsvow @callsign-fangirl @mangonom @nyheartbreak @xngxlstuff @paintlavillered @awkwardpersonsthings

#pope cody x reader #andrew pope cody x reader #pope cody #andrew pope cody #animal kingdom

182 notes · View notes

knightjpg · 2 days ago

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sugar pit

tags: pussy eating, a handjob, unprotected piv sex, loss of virginity, caleb and mc's usual What Art We relationship. if the whole "Caleb is MC's brother but also not" thing isn't for you now's the time to click away!

It doesn't matter how many times you tell yourself you won't do it—

“Caleb!”

—without fail, you run and jump into his arms. Caleb catches you every time.

You cling to him, burying your nose in his shoulder. He smells like work, leather and metal and gasoline. Sweat, too, but that you don't mind. It's something that's Caleb's. You like his smell. When you pull back from him he's smiling wide, eyes soft as he looks down at you.

“Hi, pips. Didya miss me?”

“Missed you enough not to ask why you look like haven't slept in three days,” you reply lightly. You poke his cheek with a finger. “Did you miss me?”

“Always do, pretty girl.” Caleb readjusts his bag, and you tug on his arm.

“Then let's go,” you say, and Caleb lets you lead the way.

“I'm happy you came to pick me up, baby, but next time you can just have me come straight to your door, okay?” Caleb steps behind you, around you, moving himself to the part of the sidewalk closest to the street. His hands are on you when he does, gently, steering you on your arm, your lower back.

“But this way I get to spend more time with you.”

There's never enough of it. Time. You realised that, after Caleb died. Wished to turn it back, flip the hourglass, just another day, another minute, just one more second with Caleb.

Somehow you got your wish. You intend to make the most of it.

Caleb laughs and ruffles your hair. “Okay, smooth talker.”

This part is easy.

You're always ecstatic to see him, these first couple of hours. The joy is so fierce and intense you don't care about anything else; you're just happy Caleb is here, and that he's with you. You greedily drink in his affection, grab hold of anything he'll give to you, because you know that it's precious. Grains of sand in the hourglass.

You chat while you walk. You do most of the talking, as usual; Caleb can never say more about his work than ‘fine’ or ‘okay’ or ‘busy’. You try to accept this, even when it hurts. Even when the anger burns; even when it makes you want to shake him until the secrets fall out of his pockets.

“What do you wanna eat today? Should we stop by the store?”

You shake your head. “Dinner's waiting for you.”

Caleb is surprised; he smiles, bemused, and raises a brow. “Did you order in for us? Or did you make somethin’ and burn it again?”

"No,” you jab at his ribs with your elbow. “I cooked for you. And that was just the one time, you meanie.”

“For me?” Caleb is pleased. He pulls you close for a moment, arm swung around your shoulder, and kisses the top of your head. The warmth of it trickles all the way down to your toes. “Thank you, sweet girl. What'd I do to deserve that, huh?”

“Don't say thank you yet. Maybe you won't like it.”

“I like everything you do, baby.”

If you could, you'd eat those words instead of dinner. Pluck them right from the air and let them dissolve on your tongue, then swallow. Hoping you taste Caleb's voice in your throat.

Yeah, this part is easy.

It's good—it's how things are meant to be. It's not without effort: you have to pretend that Caleb's eyes haven't changed, that his complexion hasn't become paler, more drawn. You have to pretend not to see that the edges of him have sharpened. This Caleb is harder. Quieter. His quick, easy smile has lost about ten percent of its previous shine. It is a loss you grieve very much, but—

you're well acquainted with grief, now.

For the first couple of hours, you're always very good about ignoring all of this.

You walk Caleb all the way to your apartment, and line your shoes up next to his in the hallway. His sneakers are huge and well-loved, logo old and faded on the sides. He always buys a same pair of new ones, then wears them out until he can't use them anymore.

You should spend more money on yourself, you tell him when he buys you flowers, heels, a watch, a nice coffee machine. Caleb never listens to you, just smiles.

I just like spoilin’ my girl, that's all.

You've begun to watch your words more closely when you talk about things you like.

“You even set the table? What's goin’ on here?” Caleb narrows his eyes at you playfully when you enter your home. “It's not my birthday for a while yet, pips.”

“Don't be silly.” You move to the stove and turn it on low so the pans already assembled there can start warming up. Caleb did this for you for years, day in, day out. Breakfasts and lunches and dinners, snacks from the corner store. He used his pocket money to get two of everything you liked.

You ate it together on the pavement just outside your home.

“Sir? Your seat is ready,” you say, and pull out his chair with a bow. Caleb sits down with a chuckle, and you serve him food. Things he likes, lots of it. Rice and fish and sour fermented things. Fried vegetables, crispy and still-warm.

“You've finally gotten good at this, huh? No burned edges this time,” he teases.

“Like you didn't snatch up the burnt ones before I could eat them.” You push more food on Caleb's plate. He's too thin, these days. It makes you wonder if he remembers to eat when he doesn't do it with you.

Caleb insists on doing the dishes after, and this you allow, though you help him dry and put things away.

“I got you dessert, too. Do you want it while we watch a movie?”

Caleb looks at you, hands covered in bubbles. “Why're you bein’ so nice to me today, huh? Did you do something bad again?”

You huff. “Fine. No dessert for you, then.”

Caleb splashes you with soapy water in retaliation, and you dodge, laughing. You lean your head against his shoulder, just for a moment. It's nice. You're punishing yourself.

“I just want you to have nice things.”

Caleb shifts, pressing his weight into you until you move away again. “I already got you, pretty girl. I don't need anythin’ else.”

You turn your back to him, hang up your towel to dry. You keep your voice level. “What about a girlfriend?”

The faucet runs, then stops. “You know I'm not dating anyone. Not planning to, either.”

“I'm not pretending to be your girlfriend at work again,” you warn him. It was awful. Nothing like back when Caleb went to DAA. His colleagues were nice, but you felt like you were burning alive with Caleb holding your hand, fingers interlaced, talking to some of the guys he worked with. Kissing you on the cheek when you left.

It was so nice. It was the worst kind of punishment he could have given you.

“Why not? You're so good at it.”

Like anything was difficult with Caleb. You didn't even need to do anything; just stand there, next to him, looking at him like you were in love. It required no effort on your part.

“I don't like lying,” you say simply. “What do you wanna watch tonight? You can pick.”

Caleb looks at you with a serious expression. For a moment you think he'll continue about the girlfriend stuff, but then he shakes his head. “Actually, I wanted to take you somewhere tonight. You not too tired?”

“Depends. Where are we going?”

Your breath comes in white little puffs, clouds that trickle up to the night sky. It's very clear out tonight; the moon is at three-quarters, so it's not too dark, not even here at the outskirts of Linkon.

Caleb hands you a blanket from his car, then zips up your jacket all the way to your chin.

“’S cold out, baby.”

You marvel at all the things he pulls out of the back. A thermos with hot chocolate, a heating pad, camping chairs that unfold with one shake. And that's not counting all the stuff he usually has in there: first aid kits, fixing tools, flashlights, rechargeable batteries. Gum and water and sanitary pads and towels. Your favourite chapstick, a sweater for when you get cold.

Apocalypse Caleb, you called him when you first found out. He laughed.

“What if I'd said I wanted to stay in? Look at all this,” you say. “You prepared so much.”

Caleb shrugs a little. “Then we would've stayed in.” He tests the camping chair, pushing it securely into the ground. “Here you go, pips, go sit down.”

You do as he says, tucking the blanket over your lap. Your nose is cold, but the rest of you is very warm. Caleb insisted you put on more clothes before you went.

You let your head fall back to look up at the stars. They blink back at you; little dazzling lights, far far up ahead. So far out of reach. Just like Caleb.

The first couple of weeks after he came back you felt like you were in a stupor. Dazed. You'd forgotten how to walk and talk and breathe the way you normally do. You didn't know how to look at your brother anymore, the person you loved most in the world. You felt like you were burning out of your skin being in the same room as him. You felt like you were dying when you weren't.

“Earth to pipsqueak.” Caleb's finger pokes your cheek. “You got a deep thinkin’ look on your face. What's on your mind?”

You shift, turning your face to him. He's sat down right next to you; the arm of his camping chairs right up against yours. Absentmindedly, you fiddle with the little net at the end that lets you put cups in there.

“I was thinking about when I saw you again for the first time.”

Caleb smiles a little, but it's not a very happy smile. “Not a fun day, huh.”

“It was the best day.”

You cried so much you couldn't open your eyes anymore. Blindly, you clung to Caleb, refusing to let go. When he had to leave you for a minute to sort out his Colonel duties you had a full-blown panic attack.

He had to rush to your side to work you through it, warm hand rubbing your back, telling you listen to his breathing. Just focus on me, pips. On me, okay? I'm right here.

This is the tricky part.

You love Caleb very much. You're so, so happy he's here.

You're so, so furious.

Some days you think that this anger is the only thing that sustains you.

“Are you still upset with me?”

Your big brother never had to ask how you were feeling. He always already knew, even when you didn't want him to.

There's lots of things you don't know about me now.

You look back up at the sky. “What will you do if I say yes?”

Caleb takes your hand, rubbing warm fingers over your cold ones. “I'd ask you to tell me how I can make it better.”

I want you to turn back time. I want you to let me go inside first. I want to die in your place. I want you to bury me.

“You already make everything better.”

Caleb makes a small noise, like he's in pain. You squeeze his fingers, and he squeezes back.

“I wish...” he trails off, then sighs. “I wish you were angrier with me.”

You laugh a little. Wisps curl up from your mouth; cold air is sucked back inside. It tastes clean on your tongue. “If I was any angrier I'd explode.”

“So you are angry with me.” Caleb's voice is very soft. “Why haven't you shown me? You can yell at me if you want. Or hit me. I don't mind.”

“No.” You look at him again. His eyes are dark. Everything is, out here, in the middle of the night. The only light comes from the stars. “That's your punishment. You have to stay with me for the rest of your life, and you only get to have nice things. I'll never hit you. I'll never curse at you. You'll let me take care of you whenever I want, and you'll never get to see me angry again.”

The only thing that could hurt him more is removing yourself from him, and you can't do that. This will have to do. You want him to suffer. You want him to be punished, every day, for dying, for leaving, for not seeking you out again.

You’re a bad person. Maybe it's yourself you're so angry with, all the time.

Caleb lets out a deep breath beside you. “I'm sorry, baby. I'm really sorry.”

You don't care. You'd love him even if he weren't.

Caleb takes your hand, presses a kiss to your palm. “If that's what you want, I'll do it.”

“There's one more thing,” you say. Your curl your fingers over his cheek, stroke along his jaw. “I'm not pretending to be your girlfriend anymore. You can tell your colleagues we broke up.”

Caleb's breath hitches. “Because you don't like lying?”

It hurts, when Caleb lies to you. It hurts because you love him so much, even with all his lies.

“Yes. Also, what if you meet someone you want to date? Or maybe I'll go on one.”

You've never even been kissed. There was always Caleb, always only him, and then there was school, and somehow no one ever even seemed to be interested in you anyway. Then Hunter exams, work, death. Only recently have you begun to consider that while you may forever be cursed to want what you can't have the most, maybe you should give the experience a try with someone else.

Even if it's just to see what it's like. Even if it's just so you can fantasize about Caleb's hands touching you better.

Caleb is still next to you. He does that sometimes, where his whole body stops. But underneath everything is moving, buzzing, like there's an animal in a cage wanting to get free. A plane stuck in forever takeoff.

“I'm not going to date anyone. Who are you going on dates with?” He asks quietly.

You shrug a little. You kick your feet, scuffing dirt on your toes. “No one yet.”

“Is there somewhere you wanna go?” Caleb presses. “Or something you want to do? I'll do it with you. I'll take you anywhere you want.”

The anger fills you. You're so happy he's here, your Caleb. He wants so badly to never hurt you, but his presence is one big hurt. It's a kind of pain you crave, can never have enough of. But it crushes you. Every day again.

You look up and see a star blink at you and then disappear. There's another, but this time it blinks red. A plane flying overnight.

“I've never kissed anyone,” you say, still looking up. “Tara was shocked when I told her. If I can't find someone on my own she said she'd help me.”

“Baby.” Caled sounds desperate. He's holding your hand very tightly, so you look at him. “You don't ever have to kiss anyone if you don't want to. Or—” Caleb exhales. He looks tense, like he's upset but doesn't want to show it. “Or you can do it with me.”

You frown. If he's going to sound so reluctant saying it he shouldn't say it at all.

“But I do want to,” you mumble. “And I wanna do it with someone who wants it too. I don't want it to be pretend.”

“Then it can just be practice. How's that sound, pip? You can practice with me as much as you want. See if you like it, and if you don't, then it doesn't count.”

You're conflicted.

On the one hand, you want to take everything Caleb gives you. And this is one of the things you want most, have been wanting most, since you were about fifteen and started to understand that the way you felt about your brother wasn't like how most people felt about their siblings.

I'm not your brother, Caleb's voice says in your head. I'm tired of playing house.

It's an offer that's too good to refuse. But—

You're very angry with him. And you worry that if he gives you this you'll let some of it slip through; after everything you just said to him about punishment it'd be an embarrassment to your integrity if you just gave it up.

Unlike Caleb, you're not a liar. Some things that are true you just keep to yourself.

“What do you think?”

Caleb is smiling his warm big brother smile. You relax instantly; at this point, it's Pavlovian. You see Caleb, and you know you're safe. Nothing will happen to you as long as you're with him.

Caleb senses that you're about to give in, because he adds, “We can even do it now, if you want to. You want to, baby? Come sit on my lap, and I'll kiss you.”

You throw off your blanket. Stand up. Take one step, and sink down on his lap. Caleb's arms wrap around you immediately, holding you tight against him. His hands squeeze you through your jacket. Very faintly, you feel his heartbeat. It's fast.

“I don't want you to force yourself,” you say. But you're already here. If he makes you leave now, you’ll cry yourself to sleep tonight.

“I never force myself with you, pretty girl.” Caleb's calloused fingers stroke your cheek. He pulls on your chin so you face him properly.

Very, very gently, his lips press against yours. They're soft—even softer than you thought they'd be, and you've spent a lot of time thinking about Caleb's lips. Your pulse is rabbit-quick, heart threatening to grow wings and fly out of your chest.

You breathe against Caleb. The cold air prickles in your nose, but Caleb is very warm. He always has been. Your sun. Your summer in a bottle. He moves his lips against yours, and you copy him. Curious, you poke the tip of your tongue against his lower lip.

Caleb groans. He opens his mouth, then, and presses you against him tighter. He slides his own tongue against yours, and you taste hot cocoa. The pudding you got him for dessert. Your head feels light, fuzzy, like you're way up in the clouds next to all those stars. Your heart thunders in your ears.

When you pull away you realise you're panting; Caleb is, too. He's hard underneath you.

Suddenly you're overcome with what you've just done. Whose dick is hard under your legs just from kissing you. You duck your head into Caleb's shoulder so he can't see your face and he lets you, running his big hands soothingly over your back.

“How was that, pips?” he asks. His voice is hoarse. “Did you like practicin’ with me?”

“I don't know,” you say muffled into his neck.

“You feelin’ a little shy? Want me to take you home?”

“I don't know.”

Caleb laughs a little, then sighs. It's a happy sigh. He squeezes you against him tightly, then stands up holding you in his arms. “My little girl is so cute I could eat her up,” he says fondly. “C'mon. Let's go back.”

You don't protest. You feel like you're burning up again. Caleb tucks you into your seat, clicks on your seatbelt, and loads all the stuff he brought back into the back. The car engine rumbles to life under your feet, and then you're gliding back into the city.

Caleb's hand is on your leg while he drives. Just below the knee, fingers squeezing down occasionally. You wish he'd move it lower. You wish he'd stop the car and kiss you again. You wish he'd fuck you on the backseat.

The radio is on low, and Caleb hums along to the song. You don't feel angry so much anymore now; you're flushed, flustered, quiet.

You touch your hand to your lips and watch the world outside the window slip away in the dark.

“Up you go now.”

“Hmm?” you ask sleepily. “Caleb?”

“Yes, baby. I'm right here.”

There's the sound of a car door closing, and air rushes past you. You're floating, no, flying—it's Caleb, carrying you. Your body moves with the sway of his feet, boots going thump thump thump along the hallway to your apartment door. You rub at your eyes.

“I'm sorry I fell asleep.”

He looks down at you and smiles. “Don't be. You were feelin’ all tired, weren't you? Now you can go back to sleep in your bed.”

You don't want to go back to sleep. If you have to be in bed you want Caleb there with you, kissing you more. Even if it means you won't be able to look him in the eye tomorrow.

“I'm not sleepy anymore now.” You press your finger against the lock, and the door clicks open. Caleb steps inside, toes off his boots, then continues into the living room to set you down on the couch. He kneels to take off your shoes.

“I can do it,” you say, nudging at his hands. “Caleb—”

“I know. But let me do it for you.”

You sink back into the cushions and watch him for a moment. “I've decided,” you tell him.

Caleb looks up at you. He's finished with your shoes. His hand is wrapped around your ankle, and strokes up, along your calf, over your knee. “Decided on what?”

“I want to practice more.” Your cheeks burn when you say it. It's dark inside, just low light from a table lamp behind you, but you can see Caleb much better compared to when you were out stargazing.

It means he can see you much better, too.

Caleb's hand squeezes your leg, moves a little higher. His eyes look bright. Eager. Angry. “Yeah? You sure you're not too tired?”

You nod, and zip off your jacket. You're suddenly very warm—the extra layers Caleb insisted you wear for your little trip stick to your skin, sweaty and too-tight. Caleb, still kneeling, helps you with your jacket, folding it neatly over the back of the couch. When you get stuck in your sweater he helps you with that, too.

He chuckles when you grab his zipper and bend closer to pull off his jacket all the way. He's wearing a fleece sweater underneath, and that has to go, too. You pull on it impatiently, and once it's off, tug on Caleb's shoulders. Come closer, your hands say. I want you closer.

You're angry again.

You think Caleb might be, too, because he doesn't kiss you so gently this time. He's wound tight, a wire ready to spring, and licks into your open mouth like he'll die if he doesn't. The kiss is harder, messier, spit and teeth, Caleb half-crawling, half-crouching over you and pressing you into the cushions. His knee is in between your thighs, dangerously close to your wet hot core, the part of you that's burning brightest. Burning for him. For his touch.

Your hands roam over his chest, dig into his hair, pull on his necklace. The metal is warm from his skin, and the chain digs its teeth into your fingers. Caleb moans when you pull on it, pull him closer to you.

Caleb's hands are in your hair, too, cradling your skull, moving you below his hungry mouth. You make sounds, too, little hitching breaths, whines that he swallows whole. Your body is hot. You want him so, so badly.

You've always wanted him. Always chased him. Curled up at his side, hanging off his arms, perched on his shoulders.

Look, Caleb, I'm flying!

He'd make you fly for real one day, Caleb promised. Once he's a pilot, he can take you anywhere. See anything. Even way beyond the clouds.

You start to cry.

Caleb jerks back as if shocked, big hands coming to rest on your cheeks. His eyes flit over your face, brows pinched. “Oh, pips, baby, what's wrong? What's wrong?” He hugs you close and rocks you, just like he did when you were little. “Did I hurt you? I'm sorry.”

You hurt me all the time. You hiccup against his shoulder, tremble when he pets your hair. Try to breathe, chest heaving, blood rushing fast.

“Hey, talk to me. What's got you so upset, huh?”

You're so angry. You're so angry you can't talk for a moment, mouth nothing-words against Caleb's shirt. “Can't—” you hiccup again. “Can't tell you.”

“Gonna make me guess? I'm reaaal good at it.” Caleb shifts to sit on the couch, lifting you on his lap. You bury your head in his shoulder, and he tucks your hair behind your ear before stroking it again.

“Guess number one: you didn't like the kissing.”

You shake your head. You liked the kissing very much.

“Hmm... Guess number two: you're mad at me. Am I right?”

Yes. No. Kind of. Not really. You're upset Caleb can't give you what you want. You're angry at yourself for kissing him anyway. You knew this would happen, so why why why did you do it?

Because you love him so much. Because you've never wanted anyone but him. You want so badly for this to be real, and it can't be. You're the worst kind of person, greedy and cruel, because even after you got what you wanted more than anything else in the world—Caleb, alive, different, changed, but not dead, not in the ground, not blown to pieces—you still want more.

Caleb takes your silence as a yes, and he kisses your head. “See? I told you I'm real good. Now how can I fix it, baby? Why are you upset at me?”

“What if—” your voice comes out scratchy. You sniffle, start again. “What if I wanted to do other things? Not just kissing. Would you practice with me then too?”

Caleb is silent for a moment before answering. “I told you, pips. Whatever you wanna do, I'll do it with you.”

You push up suddenly, twisting so you can look at him. Your nails dig into his chest; your vision is blurry with tears. “I hate it when you do this. When you act like this. I'm so angry at you, all the time. You lie to me, you hurt me, and it doesn't even—doesn't even matter, because I—” the tears fall again, heavy and wet, “because I love you so much. I just let you. I just hurt.”

A sob wracks your body, and you fall back against Caleb, shaking. His arms come around you and squeeze you so tight it's painful.

“Oh, pip.” Caleb almost sounds like he's crying, too. “Baby. I don't want you to hurt. I don't want anything to hurt you, even me. Least of all me.” He lets out a shuddering breath. “Can you tell me what it is I'm doing that's making you so angry? You sure it's not ‘cause we kissed?”

You shake your head.

“Then why? What am I actin’ like, pretty girl? Tell me and I'll fix it.”

“Like—like it doesn't matter. Like you'd do whatever, and none of it really matters. Like I'm just using you.”

Caleb noses against your forehead. “Everything I do with you matters, baby. And I like it when you use for me stuff you want.”

“I don't want it like that,” you say quietly. “If you don't feel the same way I do, I don't want it.”

That's a half-lie. You want it. You take it all, Caleb's touches, the kisses he drops on your head, the hand he holds yours with in a crowd, the groceries he buys for you, the time he makes for you, his calls, his texts, his warmth, everything.

But all of those things fall under safe territory. Things that can be explained away into the familiarity of the act, because Caleb's always taken care of you. Kissing and dating and sex is something else, something that you can't bear to lie to yourself about. To have Caleb lie to you about.

Caleb is very quiet. He's hard under you again, something neither of you acknowledge.

“Then how do you feel, pips?” he asks finally. You draw up your knees and curl your hands in your lap.

You knew this question was coming. This is what you were afraid of, letting him so close, letting him touch your want, your anger, your fucked-up desire. Some of it spilled out. He asks questions you can never answer, except now you did.

“I can't tell you.”

“Do you want me to guess again?” You hear the smile in Caleb's voice. He likes playing with you. He likes when you make him work for it, whatever it is.

“It's a secret. You can't guess it.”

“Then do you wanna trade?” Caleb says softly in your ear. “I'll give you my secret, and you give me yours.”

Caleb has so many secrets now. So many things he hasn't told you, so many things you don't even know to ask about. You promised each other you'd never keep anything from each other, years ago. But Caleb broke that promise, and now there's a whole wall of things left unsaid dividing you.

Of course you want to know.

“Then you go first. And it has to be a good secret. I won't tell you if you try to trick me.”

Caleb hums and leans back against the couch, gently wiping at your cheeks. “My secret's that I really liked kissin’ you, pip. I was so happy you let me, ‘cause I've been thinking about doing that for a long time.”

Caleb's thumb is still stroking over your cheek, even though you're pretty sure there's no more tears left to clean up. As expected, his secret isn't as heavy as yours, but the words pierce through you regardless.

He's thought about it for a long time. What's a long time? A month? A week? A lonely year in deepspace?

“I liked it too,” you say in a small voice.

Caleb's eyes crinkle into little crescent moons. He's smiling wide. “I'm so happy to hear that, baby. I want you to feel good. I want to make you feel good.”

Then make me feel good, is on the tip of your tongue. You can't say it. You need to think about how to respond, how to match Caleb's secret with your own in a way that won't repulse him forever.

“Is there anything else you've thought about for a long time?”

Caleb gazes at you with dark eyes. They're beautiful, framed by long dark lashes that kiss his cheek when they flutter closed. He's not closing them now, though; he's looking at you with a strange, serious expression.

“Yeah.”

When he doesn't elaborate, you push him. “Like what?”

You earn a tap on your nose for that. “Now who's trying to trick who, huh? It's your turn.”

You press your hands against Caleb's chest and look down at them while you speak. The words come slowly. Carefully.

“I guess that... my secret is the same as yours. I've thought about it for a long time, too.”

Caleb's heartbeat flutters under your palms. He echoes your question back at you: “And other things?”

You're burning again, a hot little flame that starts low in your stomach and blazes through your neck, your cheeks, your ears. Red all over.

You keep your eyes away from Caleb's, afraid of what he might say, and don't answer.

“You asked me, right? If I'd do other things too?” Caleb's voice is very close. His breath is warm on your cheek. “What other things, pip? What have you been thinking about doing with me?”

Your heart trips over itself. He's going to find out. He's going to know. He'll know and he'll be disgusted by you, he'll pull away from you, he'll finally be alive again and you still managed to ruin it all—

Caleb presses his lips to your jaw, once, then twice, then nudges you with his nose, his hands, to kiss you on the lips. “You can tell me,” he murmurs. “It's just me, pips. Only me here.”

He kisses you again, coaxing you out of your little shell. And you come crawling, because it's his voice that's calling your name. Caleb's hands slide over your arms, your waist, stop to squeeze at your hips. He lifts you, briefly, so he can grab your leg to straddle him.

You're so wet you're afraid he'll feel it, afraid he'll feel a wet little spot just like you're feeling his cock strain against his pants under you. When you break the kiss a thread of saliva keeps you connected. Without noticing one of your hands has wound itself in Caleb's hair, and you slide it lower to cup his cheek. His skin is warm and tanned. The freckles that grow darker in summer dance under your fingertips, and you map them with your eyes, putting together constellations on his cheeks. You always wished you'd get freckles, too, but unlike Caleb you just burned.

Even now, whenever you smell sunscreen you think Caleb. If you close your eyes you can feel his hands rubbing it on your cheeks, your arms, every part of you. Like a shield, like armour.

But even with all those layers—

“Still don't wanna tell me?” Caleb asks. His voice is rough and low, husked at the edges. You're this close to kicking him out so you can finger yourself while you still taste him on your lips, trying to fill the aching emptiness everything he does ignites in you.

—you're always burning.

“Tell me what you want. I'll give it you.”

“I want—”

You're just a person. Human. Weak with wants and needs. Everything has a limit, even you. Even your desires.

“I want you to touch me,” you whisper.

Caleb makes a low sound in the back of his throat. His dick twitches in his pants, and when you dare to look at his eyes you see they're blown so wide there's barely anything left of his usual violet.

“Where, baby? Where do you want me?”

You shake your head, whine. Caleb chuckles breathlessly.

“You're not makin’ it easy for me, princess. Is it here?” He moves his hand from your hip to your thigh, squeezing. “Or here?” His other hand travels up, all the way to the back of your neck.

“I can't. You'll hate it,” you manage to force out. “It'll ruin everything. And then you'll leave, and I can't—I can't lose you again—”

You thought you were done with crying, but tears threaten to spill again. Caleb shushes you. “I'm not goin’ anywhere. I'll never you leave, pip, I promise. No matter what you say to me. No matter how angry you are, or how much you cry. I'm always here.”

Can you believe him? Can you trust him?

And if not Caleb, who's left?

“I want to touch you,” he whispers. “All over. You just tell me where. I want it.”

You close your eyes. You take the hand on your thigh, and bring over, up, right over where your jeans zip closed. You're catching fire.

“Right here, huh?” Caleb says. There's a tremble in his voice. “Do you wanna take off your pants when I do?”

Eyes still closed, you nod once.

Immediately, Caleb's moving, hoisting you up with both his Evol and his own strength. Your eyes fly open in surprise, and you see he's taking you to your bedroom. For all his hurry you're laid on the bed oh so gently, and then his fingers are working open button—zipper—shimmy down—

And a thumb hooks around your underwear. Caleb's breathing fast, eyes glued on the wet spot right in the centre of it. He strokes his thumb over it, and your hips jerk in surprise and arousal.

“Can I—” Caleb groans and presses his forehead against your naked thigh for a moment. When he looks up at you again your breath catches over the raw need on his face. “Can I touch with just my hands? Or can I use my mouth?”

The heat is making you short-circuit. “But—I—wait, I haven't showered,” you stutter.

Caleb presses his nose against your core, inhaling deeply. His fingers dig into your legs so hard it'll bruise, and he moans. You think you might pass out before he actually does anything.

“Can I?” he asks again, though this time it sounds more like he's begging. He's already pulling your underwear off, and you're too distracted to notice he stuffs it in his back pocket instead of throwing it on the floor.

“I—okay,” you whisper, because Caleb so very rarely asks for anything. Because you want to give him everything. Because you're so unbelievably wet that you'll die if he doesn't touch you right now, hands, tongue, whatever he wants.

As soon as you give him the okay he leans in. You gasp when he licks up a broad stripe over your cunt, pressing his tongue flat against it, groaning like it's him who's feeling good.

“Caleb—” You whimper when he does it again, and then again, and then he's eating you like he's been starving for days. He fucks you with his tongue, he sucks on your clit, and when he adds his fingers—long fingers, big and strong, big enough to curl against your weakest spot—your head falls back on the bed with a whine. The more sounds you make, the more eagerly he laps at you, kisses you, bites at the soft flesh of your thighs.

Dazedly, you wonder if this is meant to feel this good. You can't stop clenching down on him, trying to suck him deeper inside. You're going to come, and you're going to come fast, and is this even real or a dream inside your head?

“Shi—it,” Caleb groans. “You're so pretty, baby. So fuckin’ pretty. Knew you would be, too. Fuck.”

“Caleb,” you pant. “Caleb, I'll—”

He moans in response, tongue working you again, the sound of his fingers moving inside you wet and obscene. The pleasure builds, crests, then rushes over you like a wave. Your whole body tenses, one big strain, caught up in the current. Broken moans leave you on the comedown, body shuddering like a leaf caught in the wind.

You twitch away from Caleb, who hasn't stopped lapping at you, and then melt, boneless, into the sheets. While you catch your breath you see Caleb rise, licking his lips. He sucks his fingers—his fingers, the ones that were just inside of you—clean with a lidded gaze.

Even now, after just having come on his tongue, you feel a warm twinge in your lower stomach.

“Was that nice, pretty girl? Did it feel good?”

You nod. It was more than nice. Caleb just ruined your vibrator for you, and you fear you’re going to have to spend a pretty penny to get anything that'll come close to the way he just made you feel.

When you push yourself up on your elbows it occurs to you that Caleb's still fully dressed, and you're still wearing your shirt. You haven't even taken off your socks. The red dotted pattern winks at you from the edge of the mattress.

You suddenly feel shy. What are you supposed to say now? Will Caleb go home, leave like this was business as usual? Your dimly lit bedroom is cosy and warm, but you doubt you'll be able to fall asleep tonight. Not after this.

Fortunately Caleb saves you from having to say anything. Smiling, he crawls up the bed, hovering over you to kiss you again. You taste traces of yourself on his lips; you realise this is the very first time that you do. It's weird. A little bitter, a little musky, but—

It's not bad. Not if Caleb's the one making you taste it.

When he gathers you in his arms, maneuvering you side by side, your face tucked under his chin, you hug him back. If you cling to him tightly enough maybe he won't leave.

“Was that what you wanted, baby?” Caleb murmurs into the crown of your head.

“How are you so good at that?” you whisper back.

Caleb laughs and squeezes you closer. His cock is rock-hard and poking you insistently in your stomach, even through his pants. “Am I? I'm glad you think so. It's my first time givin’ it a spin.”

Huh?

Shock overtakes embarrassment, and you pull back to look at him.

Huh?

“What?”

Caleb cocks an eyebrow. “What ‘what’?”

“Have you ever had sex?” you blurt out.

The corners of Caleb's mouth twitch upwards. “Nope.”

“But why?” The endless love letters, the confessions, the whispers, the stares. Everyone loves Caleb, no matter where he goes, and you've come to accept it simply as fact a long time ago. You understand, because you love him too. Even if the jealousy makes your stomach feel sick with it sometimes.

“’Cause I never wanted anyone else. I told you, didn't I? I want to touch you. You just tell me where.”

Anyone else?

You sit and gape at him. Caleb chuckles and kisses the hand that's curled against his chest. “I can see the steam comin’ out your ears, baby.” He sighs, and the smile fades on his lips. He looks back at you with his serious eyes again. “Well, what about you? Have you?”

“No,” you say meekly. “There was—no.”

Caleb relaxes, and his smile returns. “Good.”

“Caleb.”

“Hmm?”

“Do you...” you hesitate. Pause. Rethink what you want to say. “You didn't mind? Touching me?” It doesn't gross you out? Disgust you? Make you hate me, make you leave, make you not want to be around me anymore?

Caleb kisses your hand again. “I loved it, baby. Even more than I thought I would. I'd do it every day if you let me.”

Every day—

You shake your head. Focus. “If I tell you another secret, will you tell me another one of yours again?”

“There's more secrets?” Caleb frowns a little, but he brushes over your cheek gently. “Yeah, pips. I'll tell you if you tell me.”

He hasn't run screaming yet. He said he wanted to touch you, that he's wanted to kiss you. You don't dare to look too closely at what it might mean. What lies at the end of devotion? Does it have an end, with Caleb?

I've been thinking about doing that for a long time.

“I wanted you to touch me,” you say carefully. “But I also want to��to touch you. Not for practice. Just because it's you.” You peek at Caleb through your lashes. His cheeks are flushed, and his eyes glitter like stars.

“Where, beautiful? Where do you wanna touch me?”

Your voice is very quiet when you answer. “Anywhere that makes you feel good.”

Caleb's eyes flutter closed for a second. When he opens them again he looks serious, but it's not serious angry Caleb. It's serious thinking Caleb, one who's arriving at the end of a very long equation.

“For a long time?”

You duck your head. “Maybe. Now give me your secret.”

Caleb sits up abruptly and pushes into your space. You fall back in surprise, back hitting the mattress, as he leans over you. His pretty purple eyes are dark again, intense, storm-in-a-bottle. Clouds gathering for rain.

“I want you to touch me. I've wanted you to touch me since forever. I want to fill you in every way I can, with my hands, my mouth, and my cock, and I want you to look at only me.”

Your mouth drops open, air coming shallow and fast.

“It's never been pretend for me. I don't want anyone else touching you, ever. Only me.”

You swallow. “But—what—what if it doesn't work out? Things will be different. And I don't want to lose—to lose you.” Not again; never again.

Caleb lowers his head to press a kiss against your pulse, just below your jaw. "You'll never lose me, pip. I promise.” When you stay quiet he lifts his head to look you in the eye. It's a little frightening, the intensity of his gaze. The weight of his want. “I promise. Is that the only thing you're worried about? Losin’ me? Think I won't like you anymore after I've been inside you?”

You're worried about a million things. About not measuring up, about falling out, about being so angry with him and loving him so, so much at the same time. About drifting apart, again.

Caleb takes your hand and guides it to his groin, presses it against his cock. He lets out a little hiss. “Feel that, beautiful? Feel how much I want you? It's always been like that. When we were livin’ together—I jerked off three times a day, I wanted you so bad. I felt like I was going crazy. I—” Caleb exhales, drops his head on your shoulder. “I stole your used panties. I sniffed your gym clothes. I was so fuckin’ desperate.”

Caleb's words send a zap of lightning between your legs. Your whole body is aflame and breaking out in a sweat; it's a little hard to focus on anything but Caleb's dick twitching against your fingers, his hot breath on your skin, and I stole your used panties. I wanted you so bad. Feel how much I want you?

It's always been like that.

You tug at his shirt. “Take off your clothes,” you demand.

A tentative smile breaks through on Caleb's face. Without a word he obeys, sitting back up on his haunches and peeling off his longsleeves. There's a compression tank under it, and this too is dropped on the side of the bed.

But you're impatient, now, and your fingers reach his belt before he can. You tug the leather free, fumble with the belt loops, then go for his zipper. Caleb's hips rock against you, once, like he can't help it, and he watches your hands with a shaky sigh.

He helps you tug his jeans down, and then his underwear, and then, and then—

Your mouth feels dry when his cock slaps against his stomach, finally freed. It looks red, angry, leaking with precum. You want to touch it, so you do, pushing yourself upright while Caleb kneels before you: one careful, curious finger stroking alongside the shaft.

Caleb shudders.

“How can I make you feel good?” you ask earnestly. “Show me.”

Silently, Caleb takes your hand and wraps it around his cock. Your fingertips just barely manage to touch, not-quite closing around him. He places his much bigger hand over yours and shows you, squeezing at the base, twisting upwards, gently at the tip and down again. He's panting; the flush on his cheeks has spread all the way down to his neck, over his chest, his lovely freckled skin. Scarred and bruised. So perfectly his.

When you grow bolder and start moving your hand on your own, upping the pace, Caleb lets out a strangled moan, throwing his head back as his hips jerk forward helplessly. “Oh, fuck,” he groans. “Pip, baby, angel, that feels so good. Feel so good around me. I'm gonna—ah, gonna cum soon if you keep going.”

“Do you want to?” you ask. You look up at him, your big brother, your protector, your heart. Your pain and the cure.

Caleb laughs, breathless and eager. “I wanna cum anywhere you let me.”

That's not good enough. You slow your hand and stop while holding him at the base. Caleb squeezes his eyes shut, brow scrunching up.

“But I want to know what you want,” you say. A little petulant, a little bossy, because Caleb's always spoiled you, indulged you, and you told him, didn't you? This was punishment. He'll let you take care of him whenever you wanted. He's only allowed to have nice things. To feel good. To get everything he wants.

Caleb's eyes open again. “Inside you,” he rasps. “Inside your pussy.”

Another wave of heat makes you let go of him, scooting back on the bed. Caleb watches, entranced, as you lie back and hold out your hands to him.

“Okay,” you say simply.

There's a moment where Caleb looks like he's frozen in time; disbelieving, desperate, helpless.

Then he moves.

He crawls over you and kisses you again. He's trembling a little, and you think you are too. You jolt when you feel his fingers against your clit again, still sensitive, raw, everything so new.

He dips them inside, nose pressed against your neck and inhaling deeply, stroking once, two, three times, curling them until your nails dig into his shoulders. When he removes them he spits in his palm; then holds it out to you, under your chin.

“Spit,” he commands.

You spit.

He slicks himself up with your combined saliva, your arousal, his sweat, and then his tip is pushing against you, into you—

“Fffuck,” Caleb groans. “Relax, pip. Relax for me. Shit, you're perfect. So tight.”

You're trying to do as he says, but your whole body has turned into one big nerve, and at the root is the little place that Caleb's entering now, deeper and deeper, hot wet thick warm tight.

His jaw is clenched, and even in the low light you see the sweat shining on his brow. He's so careful with you, pushing himself further in so very slowly. Pausing when you gasp or tighten around him reflexively.

Once he bottoms out, pelvis flush with yours, he exhales.

“Caleb,” you croak. You're so full.

A bead of sweat drips down his nose, and your Caleb smiles. “Yeah, baby. You're doin’ so good. Feel how far in I am?”

You can feel him in your throat. Your lungs. Your heart, completely.

“I love you,” you tell him, voice patchy, and watch his eyes glisten. His lips press on yours, hard, full of relief.

You tell Caleb you love him every time you say goodbye. It's a little bit of a compulsion. You have to say it, need to say it, because what if? What if you don't get the chance to again? What if this loop of time is broken, again?

But it's different, now.

“I love you, too, pretty girl. Always have.” Caleb rolls his hips into yours, and you gasp. He does it again, a little harder and a little faster, and keeps doing it until you're whimpering under him, your legs locked around his hips and your arms scrabbling for purchase on the wide, muscular planes of his back.

He cradles your skull and tucks it against his neck, large fingers splaying wide over your head. His shoulders are broad, overtaking everything you see. Everything you feel.

Caleb's other hand shoves itself between your two bodies to rub your clit, and when Caleb shifts, angles his hips, and fucks you—

Stars explode behind your eyes. A loud moan swings loose from your chest, unable to stay inside, because it feels so, so good, and then Caleb keeps hitting that spot, keeps making more noises spill from your lips, just like they do from his, until the core of you is wound tight again.

Caleb kisses you messily, panting in your mouth and groaning low whenever you squeeze down on him.

“Come on my cock,” he rasps. “Come on my cock, pip, let me feel you, just like that, c’mon—”

You're helpless before his command. You do as he says while clinging to him tight, shaking, and a few tears slip out from the sheer intensity. Caleb leans down and licks them up, tongue hot and wet on your skin.

He works you through the wave, just barely, before he loses his rhythm. He hits you deeper, now, harder, clenching his teeth, pressing biting kisses on your neck. The only thing you can do is hold onto him.

“Gonna—gonna come, angel, gonna come inside you, fuck, I'm gonna fill you up. Take it, you're gonna— take it—”

Caleb's hips jerk one, two more times, and then he spills inside of you with a heady groan. It shocks you, the heat of it, and you moan with him on his comedown. Caleb rocks inside you a few more times, trying to fuck his cum into you deeper, and then—

He melts. Right on top of you, heavy as can be, and the air is pressed out of your lungs with a soft oof.

Before you can complain, though, he turns, rolling you onto your side. You do your best not to knee him in the stomach while you reposition your legs, because Caleb won't let go of you even a little.

He buries his face in your neck, hair tickling your cheek, and you stroke your fingers through his short dark strands. “What do you think?” you tease him. “Do I need practice after all?”

Caleb squeezes your sides; you can feel him smiling against you. “Depends. Am I the one you're practicin’ with?”

You laugh. Caleb's cock is still inside you, and you feel it twitch at the sound. “Nope. I told you, I only want it for real.”

Caleb loosens his grip on you just enough to look you in the eyes. His hair is messy, and his cheeks are still flushed. Sweat clings to his temples. He looks so beautiful it's like he's not from this world.

“Then we'll do it for real. As long as it's me, pips. Will you promise me?”

Caleb's holding his pinky, and you take it in yours. “And if I want other things? Not just—kissing or touching?”

The tips of your ears are warm again.

“Then we'll do those too.”

You lower your eyes, focusing on a freckle near his lovely mouth. You have to say it now. After this you can't go back to the way things were.

“Like dating. For real. Not... not just so you can turn down confessions.”

“Oh, pip.” Caleb pulls you close again, a tight, warm hug, and your eyes flutter closed at the proximity. Silly, the way you’re still connected but him embracing you makes you feel warm and safe all over again. “I'd turn those down either way, you know. Even if you didn't wanna help me.”

You give his chest a weak slap. “Answer the question.”

“Yes ma’am.” Caleb does his funny soldier voice, and suddenly you just can't take him seriously anymore. Dummy. Dork. Crazy. Still inside you, still hard, and he gives you a salute when you ask him very seriously if he wants to be your boyfriend.

You throw your head back in exasperation. You're trying very hard not to laugh. “I'm serious!”

Caleb chuckles softly and gently pulls you back so he can kiss you. “Good. Me too.”

“No, you're not,” you accuse him. “Stop goofing around and answer me. Or I'll think everything you said was a lie.”

Caleb's gaze softens. “I meant it, pip. I'm very serious about you. About us. If you want me to date you, be your boyfriend, anything, you already have me. I wouldn't lie to you about that.”

You purse your lips, considering. “I guess if you're my boyfriend I could make sure you're fulfilling your punishment.” When Caleb cocks an eyebrow, you huff. “Did you forget already? I said you have to stay with me for the rest of your life. You only get to have nice things, and you'll let me take care of you.”

“...And you wouldn't get angry at me. I remember,” Caleb says softly. He brushes his lips over your cheek. “I'll take anything you wanna give me. Even if I wish that you'd be angry at me.”

That wall of secrets separates you again. You've lost so much time grieving.

Caleb, too. You see the pain in his eyes, the change in his face. He's still yours. He's always been yours, and nothing can take that away from you.

But you and him, you've been through a lot. Scared to show each other the scars—afraid of what the aftermath might change.

“Then stop hiding yourself from me,” you say. “Maybe I'll be angry at you, then.”

“Have you... do you wish I was still the old Caleb?”

Caleb's voice is unsure, vulnerable in a way that you've heard very few times in your life. It's anxious Caleb. And just now you had silly Caleb, and there's angry Caleb, and serious Caleb, all these different sides of him, gleaming in the light like facets of a pretty stone.

All different, all the same.

You smile. You rest your head on Caleb's chest, feel his strong heart pump the blood around in his body. You're sweaty, messy, and the sheets need changing. Tears and drool and cum. Blood and spit and hurt. Love and pain. Anger, so much of it, and someday it will need a name. A place to sit and live.

For now, though—

(For always, though—)

“I just want the one that's right here with me.”

#lads #love and deepspace #lads mc #love and deepspace mc #art #caleb #lnds caleb #lads caleb #l&ds caleb #caleb x mc #love and deepspace caleb #caleb lads #calebmc #xia yizhou #caleb x reader #caleb x you #caleb fanfic #lads fanfic #mc x caleb

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pagesfromthevoid · 19 hours ago

Note

Tagging in here for the Bob discussion. But imagine after a few times together he gets the confidence to be on top but he is a complete service top (still whiny though)

You’re so right, anon. So very right (this got. Very away from me).

The first few times, he’s so awkward. He’s worried he’s not doing it right, or he’s bad at it. He’s so timid and awkward, and he waits for you to make the first move because he knows what he wants but he doesn’t know what you want. What if you don’t want him touching you there? Or what if he does something you don’t like but won’t say anything so you don’t upset him? So he lets you make the choices.

But after —let’s say, the fourth, fifth time (and a few shattered windows because, well, turns out he doesn't know how to control his powers just yet when he's worked up) —he realizes that…you want him just badly as he wants you. Actually, you might be even more desperate than he is, honestly. Because you’re the one being patient with him. You’re taking everything by his pace; stopping when he needs to stop. Only touching him when he’s made it clear he’s okay with it. While he’s the one “in control,” it’s not really control —you’re just you, and you’re willing to take it slow and take care of him over yourself instead.

And now all he wants is to give you everything.

You’re lounging in his bed one night, reading one of the books from the stack he got from the library. Bob isn’t in the room; he’s been with Bucky and Walker most of the evening, doing god knows what (jokes on you, he was getting a terrible pep talk from both of them on how to do this). Bucky was helpful; gave some relatively functional advice. However, Walker kept repeating to use the alphabet, which was…not great and even Bob knows that. They did make him put on a less baggy tee shirt; something about having confidence in his own appearance would translate into the room.

He missed his sweater.

You only look up when the door opens because there’s a shift in the air; not a bad shift. Just...different suddenly. You put the book aside as he walks in, hands behind his back. He looks a bit rigid; stiff, uncomfortable.

“Where’s your sweater?” You ask, though it’s hard to complain when you can see the veins in his arms properly.

You don’t mind the baggy clothes; he’s comfortable and you find that’s what is most attractive. But it would be a lie to say you’re not pleased to see the lean muscle that he has under this shirt. Outside of being intimate, it wasn't often that you got to see him exposed in any way —even if it was just a t-shirt instead of a sweater.

“Uh, Bucky and Walker took it,” he explains but that sounds bad so he explains further. “Training. We were training and they didn’t want me to train in it. It’s…weird, right? The shirt? I’m not used to wearing things that are so…I don’t know, tight?”

You just hum, tilting your head to the side as you look him over. He looks down some, feeling like he’s being ogled (well, he is. But he's still not used to you staring at him like this).

“I think you look good,” you offer, sitting up properly now. “Not that I don’t like what you usually wear —I like whatever makes you feel good. But I'm not going to pretend that I don't like being able to see more of you whenever I get the chance."

"You do?" He asks, and you can't help but laugh a little. "I'm not much to look at —,"

"Wrong," you quickly interrupt, slowly standing up. "There's a reason why I like to take off your clothes —I like taking my time because I don't get to see all of you often." You pause for a second, taking a moment to consider how much more you could tell him without making him uncomfortable. "It's something that only I get to see. I like to enjoy that."

Bob is staring you down, definitely short-circuiting because neither Bucky nor Walker advised him on how to handle anything you just said. How is it fair that you’re just so…good to him?

But then...he takes a step forward. You don't move; that shift in the air suddenly makes sense and you let Bob decide what he's going to do now. His hands clench into fists a few times, trying to coax himself forward.

You take just barely a step towards him —not even an inch. Something instinctual; something gravitational. Then his hands are on your hips, and his lips are on yours, and he’s pushing you towards the bed. It’s the first time he’s initiated a kiss without outright asking. You melt into the touch, sighing into his mouth as the back of your knees hit the edge of the mattress.

Sometimes you forget that Bob is incredibly powerful. He was, after all, created to be stronger than all of the Avengers combined. He doesn't particularly like using his abilities, but when his hands grip your thighs and lift you up, you gasp in surprise.

"I want to make you feel good," he practically breathes into your mouth, and even though he's the one leading, his voice comes out begging. "You always take care of me —let me do that for you."

You nod frantically, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him into another kiss, but he only let's you get a quick peck in before he's pulling away. You whine a bit, sitting up on your elbows to complain —but you can't find anything to complain about as Bob is slipping his shirt over his head.

It's not the first time you've seen him shirtless. But it's the first time he's taken his shirt off himself, without prompting. Usually he wants to wait until you ask, or you're the one playing with the hem of the shirt and trying to get it off. But the confidence in his movements is both amazing and distractingly attractive, and you're staring unabashedly with lust blown pupils and kiss swollen lips.

Your eyes trail over his skin —the freckles and scars that letter his collarbones, the flush that's spread from his throat down over his chest. Down to his abs and following the V that leads below the waist of his sweats —which are straining from the hard on that's hidden beneath.

"You're staring," he teases, and it's a shaking sort of tease —like he's unsure of if he should be speaking.

"You're hot," you confess, but it's not really a confession at this point.

You've told him he's hot before —he doesn't believe you usually. But the little grin on his face suggests that maybe today, he does.

"You're too good for me," he counters as his hands slide up your thighs and over your hips. Then he's leaning in closer, pressing his lips to your jaw and peppering kisses over your skin.

You buck slightly at the touch, chasing it, and he immediately gives in and slips his fingers beneath the waistband of your leggings. You suck in a breath, and he pauses, but you lift your hips in response, a silent plea to continue. He doesn't hesitate and pries your clothes off of you, tossing them to the floor, before settling between your legs on his knees. You move to take off your shirt but he stops you, one hand holding you down.

"Don't," he warns, puling away to look down at you. "Let me do this for you."

You watch him for a moment but nod, pulling your hands away from your shirt. Bob's hands are slow —not teasing, not purposely at least —dragging up your hips to your waist, pushing your shirt up as he goes. His fingers trail along your ribs, just grazing the edge of your bra. You briefly wonder if he'll try to take it off or if you'll need to do that yourself —but he settles on pulling your shirt over your head first.

Your skin is warm and soft against his fingers, and he's watching as your chest rises with each breath you take in anticipation. You're still sitting up on your elbows, waiting, watching, when he leans down and pulls you up against his chest. One hand is bracing your lower back as the other fumbles with the clasp of your bra.

Confidence doesn't matter when it comes to bras, because they're evil, he decides as he sighs in frustration. He almost caves into the embarrassment, worried he's ruined the moment. But you reach behind your back with ease and unclip it, and toss it away. He wants to complain, and you can see he does, but you wrap your arms around his neck again and pull him into a messy kiss.

It's all teeth and tongues, deepening each second his hands grip you tighter. Then he's laying you back down, dragging his lips from yours to your jaw. Then down your throat. One of his hands holds your hip, but the other is trembling as it approaches your breast and tentatively squeezes it. You hum in response, and his mouth is on your nipple now, grazing it with his teeth.

Between the biting, the sucking and the pinching, you're aching for more. But the sounds he's making —the moans when you sigh his name or tug at his hair —are almost as satisfying as an orgasm itself.

Though you certainly wouldn't refuse one or two of those.

Perhaps he can read your mind, or maybe he just knows what he wants —it doesn't really matter —because he gives your breasts one final squeeze and nip then trails his mouth down your stomach. The closer he gets to you, the more fidgety you become. You can feel his lips smile against your skin.

"It's okay," he promises, breath fanning over your thighs as he parts them slowly.

His fingers are trembling slightly, pressed into your thighs just enough to leave marks. Like he's scared that if he lets go, you're going to pull away from him. But he shakes those thoughts from his head, shifting down the bed until he's sitting on his knees on the floor. You're about to argue, to ask him what he's doing, but he wraps his arms around your thighs and yanks you down the bed until your legs are over his shoulders. You gasp, and his nose just barely presses above your wet core.

He groans, pressing his forehead into your thigh, fingers tightening around you. "God, you are...you're so wet."

"I told you," you sigh, running a hand through his hair, guiding him to look up at you through his lashes. "You're hot. This is hot. Everything you're doing is just...hot."

He melts into you, taking a moment to ground himself in your touch. "You have no idea how much you do for me," he admits, pressing his lips to the inside of your thigh softly. "But I'm...I'm going to try to show you."

"Oh, Bob, you don't —,"

But you cut yourself off with a gasp, fingers tightening in his hair as he buries his face in between your legs. Your hips move involuntarily, chasing his tongue as it swipes through your folds. He doesn't stop you, only presses his tongue flat against you before he sucks on your clit.

You suck in a breath, begging him to keep going. He nods as if he trying to respond, but he's groaning instead as he slips his tongue into you. Your thighs tighten around his head, hand guiding his head and mouth exactly where you need him to be. The hands holding your hips drift away, one disappearing entirely while the other glides just between your folds, one finger pressing into you slowly.

"Oh-oh," you sigh, involuntarily clenching around his one finger. "Oh, god, more —please —you're doing so good.."

He pulls his mouth away, just slightly, so he can see how you react as he slips a second finger inside you —curling up slightly. His eyes are glossy, face smeared in your juices, and you think this is the hottest thing you've seen in your entire life.

You cry out his name, back arching off the bed as you beg for him to go faster. He pulls out, just briefly, and you swear you hear him groan again. But you're too distracted by his fingers pressing up into you once again to notice any sounds that aren't the sounds of him finger-fucking you and him whining as he sucks on your clit.

You're so close —can feel it teetering on the edge when you manage to open your eyes just enough to watch him suck at your clit as he continues his rhythm. His other hand —the one that had disappeared —is in his lap and you understand his own whimpering now. While he's ruining you —burying his fingers so deep inside you, curling up and into that spongey spot that causes you to cry —he's jerking off at the whole experience.

And that tips you over the edge, pressing your heels into his shoulders as he furiously pumps his fingers in and out as you ride out your orgasm. You're crying out his name, begging him to stop because it's sensitive —fuck, your nerves are on fire —but he knows you don't actually want him to stop. It feels so good —the wave after wave of your orgasm washing over you before you hear him cry out himself, his body jerking against yours as he cums all over his hand.

You've collapsed on the bed, breathing heavy, and he's laying his forehead against your thigh. Both coming down from this, trying to catch your breaths.

When you've finally come to your senses —a solid five minutes later —you pull him up to lay beside you, pushing his hair out of his face. He's smiling at you lazily, hand laying against the base of your throat to feel your heartbeat.

"Have I told you recently how hot you are?" You ask, brushing your nose against his. You can smell yourself on his breath, and you're about to kiss him again when he says,

"I think I might start believing it soon."

---

Bob Taglist: @ilovemarvel12 @myrrh-dock

#bob reynolds #bob reynolds x reader #robert reynolds #robert reybolds x reader #sentry #sentry x reader #this took a turn sorry

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arc-misadventures · 2 days ago

Text

Are You Writing This Down?

Blake: Hey, Jaune, I have a question for you.

Jaune: Shoot.

Blake: Would you... if given the opportunity... in a hypothetical scenario! Would you... sleep with my mom...

Jaune: ...

Jaune: Whaaa?

Blake: It's just... since I brought everyone to my home, and they've met my mother... Well, they've been acting... horny...

Jaune: Huh?

Blake: Well, when, Weiss met my mom, she sorta latched on to her as a positive mother figure.

Jaune: Makes sense, despite her reasoning, Willow wasn't able to be that good of a mother.

Blake: Nora latched on to, Mom in an attempt to fill in the gap in her from missing a motherly figure in her life.

Jaune: Oh, that may be good for her. Might calm her down. By a thousandth...

Blake: Ruby is also doing something similar. She misses her mom too...

Jaune: That's... understandable... What about, Yang?

Blake: Ughh! She keeps making jokes at me about becoming my stepmom!

Jaune: That's a shocker... Bar, Nora, the rest of my teammates aren't giving you trouble?

Blake: No. Ren has been absolutely respectful, and kind to my mother. And, Pyrrha is such a sweet when talking with her.

Jaune: Good on them.

Jaune: But, why are you asking if I would sleep with, Kali?

Blake: I know, Yang is only joking around. And, I know what, Ren's semblance does to his... libido. But you!

Jaune: Me?

Blake: You're a fit, muscular, a strong, viral young man... a human! I mean... if anyone is going to seduce my mom... It's going to be you!

Jaune: Thank you?

Blake: So, please, Jaune... Tell me the truth... in a hypothetical scenario! Would you sleep with my mom?

Jaune: Yes.

Blake: You would.

Jaune: Because, I already did.

Blake: You WHAT?!

~~~

Jaune: Haa... Man I need a bath... I really worked up a sweat helping out everyone in town... Now then... They use, Mistalian baths here in, Menagerie. That means I have to wash myself, then I can go into the bath... okay.

Jaune: Hmm hmm hmm~!

(Splash!)

Jaune: Okay... I hit the bath now, right?

: Ara ara~!

: You missed a spot. Please allow to wash your back, Jaune~!

Jaune: OH? Why thank you, Miss Bell... Ghack?!

Kali: Is something wrong~?

Jaune: Kali?! Y-Y-Your wearing nothing, but a towel?!

Kali: Well how else am I supposed to take a bath?

Jaune: Well... how about with me not in the same room?!

Kali: Oh, Jaune~!

(Thump~!)

Jaune: Eep?!

Kali: We both know that's not where this story is going~!

Jaune: I-It isn't?

Kali: Well? Are you going to touch them, and make this kitty purr, or what~?

Jaune: ...

Jaune: N-No one hears of this!

Kali: That's not going to happen, Jaune~!

Jaune: W-Why not?!

Kali: Because, Jaune... I'm a screamer~!

Jaune: ...

Jaune: Oh...

~~~

Jaune: So honestly, I'm surprised you didn't already know we did it, based on, Nora, and Yang's shit eating grins they knew...

Blake: No, not at all... But, what happened after my, Mom told you she was a screamer.

Jaune: Why do you want...? Wait...? Are you writing this down?!

Blake: Yeah. A young stud human seducing a milf cat faunas? Why wouldn't I write this doen?

Jaune: What the fuck?!

#rwby #jaune arc #yang xiao long #weiss schnee #ruby rose #blake belladonna #nora valkyrie #pyrrha nikos #lie ren #kali belladonna #jaune x kali #kali x jaune #rwby cougar

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prettydaisygirl · 3 days ago

Note

Can I make a request for Streamer!James who discovered that some people in his fandom are hating us, plssss I'm so obsessed with him 😩

Hiii, my love! Thank you so much for requesting this! I've been trying to figure out my next idea and this was perfect! I am literally so in love with streamer!James, I would do anything for himmmmm. Hope you enjoy <3

streamer!James Potter x fem!superfan!reader who is getting hate for dating James ✿ 1.4k words

cw: fem reader, marauders as live-streamers, online bullying/harassment, reader is getting disgusting messages/comments, James is sooooo loverboy, James-centric

james potter masterlist

°˖✧✿✧˖°

previous part | next part

You haven’t been in James’ chat for at least three of his streams now.

Not that you have to be, and James knows with the time difference and the increasing busy-ness of your schedule that you might not make every single stream. But you usually try not to miss more than one, and you’ve been quieter in DMs too. You’re usually always in his chat, always enthusiastic, always sweet and wonderful and sending him pictures that have him tripping over his words and drooling.

The boys have noticed your distance too.

“Trouble in paradise?” Sirius asks just after James clicks ‘end stream’, coming into his room without permission. James swivels around in his chair to face his best friend, a look of slight panic on his face.

“Do you think she’s mad at me? Did she say something?” James scrambles for any kind of information or explanation, but Sirius just smirks at him, leaning against James’ desk.

“Why’re you asking me? Ask Rem,” Sirius pushes his hair behind his shoulder dramatically as James darts out of his gaming chair and across the common space to Remus’ bedroom. He opens the door without knocking, much like Sirius did. The other man is still on his computer, downloading his VOD to work on a video, probably. Remus gives James a knowing look as he turns around.

“What did she say?” James asks, leaning against Remus’ desk, causing his little figurines and stacks of books and papers to rattle. “Did I say something wrong?”

Remus sighs, rubbing at his temples with his fingers. “Why would you assume she told me? You’re her boyfriend.”

James tilts his head, narrowing his eyes at Remus, who sighs and gives in.

“I don’t know why she isn’t coming to stream,” Remus shakes his head, his voice raspy as he pulls up his DMs with you. You and Remus have become quite close friends, though you don’t talk to him nearly as much as you talk to James, obviously. “She told me people have been messaging her since she surprised you at the convention.”

“Yeah, I know, people love us!” James beams, thinking about all of the love and support you and Prongs have gotten since announcing your relationship last month. A super fan who becomes his girlfriend? The fanfictions write themselves. He’s seen all of the edits of you and him, fan accounts, and even merch. He loves it, obviously, because he loves you. He just hasn’t told you yet.

When Remus’ smile falters, James’ does too, “What? What’s that look for?”

“I think… there are a lot of people who are happy for you,” Remus says slowly, scrolling through his chat log with you as he glances through previous messages. He frowns, his scrolling ceasing as he looks at one in particular. He clicks on it, and it takes over the screen. “But, I also think you have a lot of fans who don’t exactly love the fact that you’re taken. You know your audience James, a lot of them watch you because you’re… well, you know.”

Remus’ wrist gestures toward the monitor, and James leans down to take a better look at the screen, eyes taking in the picture. You’ve sent it to Remus, a screenshot of a message someone had sent you just last week. The day before you stopped coming to his streams.

Obviously he sees your username, his heart fluttering every time he does. God, he’s whipped. He doesn’t recognize the other username, maybe just a hint of familiarity from seeing it within the hundreds of usernames in his chat, but that’s about it. It’s the message itself that makes him feel sick.

he doesn’t really like you. he’s only talking to you because you’re the only whore in his chat that would actually send him pictures. slut.

James feels like his heart is sinking through his stomach. Someone sent this to you and you didn’t come to him?

When Remus clicks onto the next one, James realizes things are worse than he thought they were. This one is a screenshot of the comment section from a photo of you two kissing at the convention.

babyboiprongs_: he’s really dating yourusername??? babyboiprongs_: gross grtftntplyr00: prongs is ruined now rip o7 :(((((( prongswormpadmoon: prongs noooooo whyyyyy :/

James feels like he’s going to throw up. How had he not seen these comments? He feels like he scrolled through everything.

“She… she sent you all this?” James’ voice is light, like he is in shock or disbelief, and there’s a whirlwind of emotions happening behind his dark eyes.

“There’s… I mean, there’s more than this,” Remus tells James quietly, his eyes gentle with pity as he watches James, who runs a hand through his dark, unruly curls.

“Why wouldn’t she tell me?” James feels small in a way that he hasn’t before, and he hates it. He just wants to protect you, he doesn’t want to know you were upset and he wasn’t there to help you.

Remus gives James a bit of a deadpan look, “Of course she’s not going to say anything to you, Prongs. She probably thinks she’s ruining your career!”

“But she’s not!” James retorts quickly, his gaze growing more frantic by the minute.

“Well, I know that!” Remus rolls his eyes, “You’re allowed to date, James. Some of your fans won’t like it but it’s your life. You need to put a boundary there, tell them you won’t tolerate it.”

James looks down, his mind racing. And in that moment, he makes a decision.

✿　.　˚　. 　 ˚　✿

It took him a few days to get everything ready. He got what he needed, he filmed his video, edited it, and now all he needs to do is press upload. His finger hesitates over the button, and in a very un-James Potter-like decision, he decides to rewatch it one more time before uploading it.

Video Title: i love you

James beams at the camera, his headphones over his ears but he isn’t on the edge of the screen with a game taking up most of it like usual. There is no game, just him. He’s wearing a shirt with your face on it. Well, really, it’s a shirt with him kissing your cheek but his face got mostly cropped out and he doesn’t mind at all.

He waves at the camera, “Hello everyone! I know it’s weird seeing me in a video and not on live, but there is something I want to talk about.”

“It has recently come to my attention that some people in my community have been leaving rude, hateful, and honestly just disgusting messages in my girlfriend’s comment section and DMs. And I want to tell you to stop that right fucking now.”

He has never sounded so angry in anything he has uploaded before. He thought about re-recording it but he truly does feel that angry.

“Not only is online hate and bullying of any kind absolutely not okay, but if I see it in my chat, or anywhere in my girlfriend’s messages or comments, I will permanently block and ban you. That applies to hate about anyone on our team or in our lives. The other marauders have agreed to ban you as well.”

“And to my wonderful girlfriend, who has felt like she can’t come to my streams because she might ‘ruin my career’... baby, I love you. I know I haven’t told you that yet, but I do. I would give up my whole career for you, even though that won’t happen. I know most of my audience aren’t hateful and don’t leave those comments. I’ve seen all of the love we have gotten. But I want to protect you, I want to love you, and I want them to love you too. So please come back to stream, chat misses you. I miss you even more.”

“And, to those of you who have been leaving nice comments, thank you! I do read them, and they mean a lot to me, I know they mean a lot to her too. No true fan of mine would be upset at seeing me happy, and I appreciate you all so much for your support.”

He reaches for the camera like he might turn it off and hesitates. He leans back and beams even brighter.

“And no, you can’t buy this shirt. It’s one of a kind, just like my girl.”

James almost cringes at himself when the video ends. He knows he has to post it. Both for you and for himself.

He clicks ‘post.’ And he has no regrets.

°˖✧✿✧˖°

#daisy's writings #james potter #james potter au #streamer!james potter #streamer!marauders #streamer!james #james potter angst #james potter fluff #james potter drabble #james potter fic #james potter oneshot #james potter fanfiction #james potter x fem!reader #james potter x reader #hp marauders #james potter x you #james potter imagine #marauders fic #james potter x y/n

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rexhya · 2 days ago

Note

bakugo gets hit with a quirk which makes him super, SUPER nice to the first person he sees — ironically it’s a super bitchy reader ?! completely hot headed, clashing personalities. your choice // does reader take advantage of temporary puppy golden retriever katsuki, or no?

golden days — ✦ ✦

warn — crack, I had no clue if you meant exclusively to her or to the class so I just assumed >s<

incl — katsuki

It was Saturday when you arose sleepily from your bed, you were glad to finally have a day off in the ever bustling school. Of course It was late In the day by now, a trip to the common area seemed appropriate. Had you been on a normal schedule you would have immediately made your way to the training rooms however after all the hard work you'd put in on the days past you think you deserved a break.

In the common rooms you were met with more people than usual, in fact you think it was almost the entire UA class talking loudly in a circle, they were looking at something, or rather...someone.

You pushed through the crow, trying to depict what exactly had caused so much commotion. There on the ground was a close eyed Bakugou, he was completely still. Momo was next to him keeping two fingers on his neck.

"Fuck happened to him?" You asked bluntly.

"He's dead." Kaminari cried dramatically,

"Yes!" You cheered, your wildest dreams were finally coming true, Bakugo had finally been shut up. You didn't know who or what spell did this, but you cheered and thanked them anyways.

"Don't say that, he is not dead, he's just...passed out." Momo scolded.

You twisted a glare in Kaminari's direction. "Why would you get my hopes up like that, now I'll still have to deal with him after he wakes."

"Sorry.."

"He's been passed out since we got here, his heart is beating just fine but were beginning to get worried, could it be an abnormally deep sleep?" Momo wondered aloud.

"We should really inform a teacher, we can't just let him lie there." Iida said worriedly, they looked to be the only ones actually concerned for the poor boy. The rest of the class had eventually lost interest and so had you.

"Why not? It'd make everyone's lives so much easier." you scoffed, giving a dirty look to the lying boy.

"[Name] tha'ts--"Iida began.

"Let me stop you right there, listen Iida I don't think anyone here cares what you have to say about reviving the most obnoxious person in the class, in fact I think they'd love the opposite. Right guys?" You turned your head to a dispersed ground of students, completely oblivious to what you said. "See?"

A red strained mark appeared by the side of Iidas head, "Momo, I'm going go inform a teacher, you stay with him and make sure she doesn't kill him." Momo nodded and cast a wary glance at you.

"Oh don't look so scared, I'm not into girls like you anyway."

"I wasn't flirting with you, and what do you mean--"

Her sentence was cut short by the sound of a low groan. He was waking up. You immediately begin trying to suffocate him with the nearest pillow, "Shhh, this is all a dream. Go back to sleep." his body thrashed weakly against yours.

"[Name] stop!" Momo couldn't believe you were really trying to kill him.

"WHAT THE, fuuuuuckk..." Bakugou trailed off, the pillow was thrown across the room by this point, a very prominent and strange redness taking over his face.

You gagged, "Fuck are you looking at, dip shit." You braced for impact, on a usual day Katsuki would have you on your ass by now.

"Uh, you? Why are you straddling me?" he asked, calmly. You screeched and clambered off the golden haired boy. Bakugou asked you calmly, what the hell was happening?

Momo looked just confused as you, taking a cautious step back as Iida and Aizawa came bursting in. Well, mostly Iida, Aizawa was in a typical lethargic trail behind him.

You immediately turned his way, "Aizawa come quick, there's something wrong with him."

Bakugo cocked his head sideways cracking his neck, "I'm fucking fine." he grumbled as Aizawa examined him.

Your teacher yawned tiredly, "Thought he was passed out?"

"He was, he was when I was here, I guess he's awake now? Maybe we should take him to Recovery Girl, he was passed out for quite a long time really."

Aizawa nodded noncommittally, "Yeah, you do that. [Name] you take him, and please don't interrupt me again. Not unless one of you is really dying, thank you."

Iida sputted as he walked away and Bakugo rolled his eyes again. "I told you I'm fucking fine, just tired God, you guys interrupted my from my nap." Iida looked like he was going to say something but stopped himself, he'd had enough of todays antics.

"Right, in that case. [Name] have fun."

You hadn't moved a muscle as Bakugo grunted, his ruby eyes piercing yours. You didn't know what to say, had the comment been a fluke? But he hadn't said anything else to you since then, he couldn't have forgotten already could he?

"What?" he huffed, wondering why you were so intent on staring at him.

"You're, you're being weird." you stated. It was a fact, he was being weird.

Bakugo sat down, his eyes blinking innocently. (??) "No i'm not."

"You actually fucking are, right now actually. And why the fuck are you squinting so hard? God did the nap reset your brain or something?"

"I'm not. I just can't see your face well, actually can you come closer?" Bakugo pulled your wrist gently. (gently) But for some reason you didn't have it in you to pull away. You were sitting face to face now, and for what felt like the milionth time today, he surprised you, this time with a casual and glinting smile. It was It was probably the most genuine thing you'd seen from him, ever.

"You did your makeup today." he said, and suddenly you felt very self aware of your face.

"Yeah, whats the issue."

"No issue, it looks good. You look good." You almost blushed.

"Are you fucking with ne right now?" you inquired at the blinking Katsuki.

He cocked his head cutely, "No! Why would I be?"

You stared at him silently, his eyes now that you realized it were perfect crimsion, it had a sort of pinkish tint that came you come to a conclusion about Katsuki faster than you ever had before.

"You got hit by a quirk."

✦ ✦

The weeks followinf Katsuki's life were ones his concious self wished he couldn't remember, you had completely and utterly taken advantage of him.

"Kat, hand me that." and he would without a moments hesitattion. It got so bad some people began to think you guys were dating.

"What! No of course not, have you even met the real him? Not a chance." But didn't stop the racing of your heart or the fluttering of your tummy when theyd said it.

"[Name]? You good, why'd you stop." a familiar voice called, it was Bakugou. Every day since he was turned you've been making him hold your bag and walk you to class. However now as you were looking more closely, you realized how weird this was, I mean sure taking advantage of him was in all ways convenient for you but it wasn't like you needed to depend on him. And that's tottally what it looked like you were doing right now.

From then on there you completely avoided Katsuki, especially in class. You wouldn't even acknowledge him in the hallways anymore. Katsuki, still stubborn as ever even with the spell, notices immediately and seeks you out everywhere.

"[Name], wait up!" you speed down the hallway as you hear the voice. Chanting a prayer he doesn't catch up to you.

He cathces up, "Hey wait, where are you going. I know you heard me I need to talk to you."

You snatch your arm away from his grip, masking your embarrassment with anger. "What, what do you want, this is getting creepy you know. Yiu can't just follow somone around. Thats called stalking."

"Why are you avoiding me?" he asked in a tone thats too soft for his gruff voice.

"I-I'm not." But you curse yourself for stuttering.

"Yes you have, I've been with you nearly all week and now all of a sudden you don't want me around?" The way he's said it made you feel strange.

You don't want me around? He sounded hurt, and for no reason at all it made you feel uncomfortable.

"I-I just.." You couldn't think of an answer, why had you really bern avoiding him? The answer was obvious. "You don't even really care, so why are you asking me this.."

Bakugou was confused, "Of course I care. You're my friend."

His friend.

Not his enemy.

"Sure," God why did you have to be the first person he saw? "Me forcing you to do all that stuff isn't very friendly."

Bakugou frowned, "Hey, you know no one could make me do anything I wouldn't want to do to. I like you, why wouldn't i want to do thoes things for you?"

That caught your attention, "Like me?" he nodded.

"But I'm such a bitch." it was a statement and Katsuki finally did something in character and agreed.

"And so am I." you smiled.

"When you wake up from this, I want you to know I regret nothing." Bakugou didn't look worried, in fact he loomed relieved.

"Oh I know, you're not the one thats going to be regretting this."

++ bonus !!

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l0s3rd0wnt0wn · 2 days ago

Text

THE MIND OF A WEIRD BLACK GIRL

CHAPTER 3: "I HATE COLD FOOD"

Platonic yandere!batfamily x Deathstroke!reader

SYNOPSIS: He's been visiting me once a week like I'm his child in college, BUT THE FUCKER PUT ME IN HERE!!! And if there wasn't a thick glass between us, the old man would be DEAD.

People say that living in Arkham sucks fucking ass, but it's not that bad, really. Well, okay, it is that bad. There's rats chewing on electric wires, and the "villains" keep trying to break out but get hauled back in here like groceries. The psychologist keeps asking stupid questions that make you go more insane than the Sesame Street that keeps playing on those busted TVs. They won't show anything else but kid stuff or the news—something about not showing the patients violence. But let's be real here, this isn't some regular insane asylum; this place is more like a fucking prison. Your room got switched out for something that looks like you're locked up in Alcatraz. You have a collar on your neck that lets out calming mist that knocks you out or makes you fall asleep when pressed, but because the electrocuting one was too "inhuman," like this place wasn't completely inhuman. But it's not too bad. You've been through worse training with Slade. It makes you laugh. One time he left you on an island with only a knife and dreams: "If you survive, you become my prodigy." Now that was worse. It made you laugh because the old man had left food and supplies lying around because he cared, unlike, well, he who shall not be named. And by he who shall not be named, he's visiting you today. And let's be honest, he's been visiting you every Friday at 3, every single damn time—not a second late. He's not tired of your face; he's not tired of the scowl you give. He's not scared when you punch the windows or yell that you'll kill him because the reason why you're here is because you tried to kill him, but you failed, getting caught by his dusty sons before you could stab him right between the eyes. You were so close, yet so far—so fucking far. And now you're here. Pretty ironic you'd tried to get locked up for hours so that you wouldn't see him, but you get dragged out of your room. It doesn't matter how hard you thrash or how many nurses and doctors you slam against the walls; they roll your ass into that meeting room whether you like it or not. You tried to run out once before he could start talking, but the guards activated your collar, leaving you motionless in the chair for two minutes. They do it a lot now, and now he has a remote to activate it when you get out of hand. How fucking perfect is that?"[Name Wayne]," said a voice on the intercom. It made you shake, knowing what was to come of this. The nurses were getting tired of fighting with you just to see your dad, and you knew he was tired of pressing that button, but you seriously didn't want to talk to him at all. "[Name Wayne], come to the visiting room, please. You have a visitor; he has a gift for you." A gift? Does he think I'm a baby? Jesus Christ. A nurse came around but stayed six feet away from you.

"Uhmm, [Ms. Wayne]?" asked a timid nurse. "I have ears; I'll go," you groaned, getting off the couch in the place they call the entertainment room, which was just three boxes, a TV, card games, and board games. Entertainment, my ass. The nurses tried to touch you, but you slapped their hands away. "I can go there on my own; I need this over with." You walked down the corridors. The hallways felt longer than they did before. Were you walking slow just because you didn't want to see him? Get a grip, [Name]. He's just an old man—an old man who abandoned you twice, choked you out, and broke your rib. You aren't afraid of him. You refuse to be. He should be afraid of you and what you're going to do to him when you get out, and when you get out, he's going to wish he had better security in this place.

You entered the visiting room, and there he was, his face shaved, lemon-pepper hair gracing his black locs. He had a small scar above his eyebrow, and it made you feel proud—you had done this to him. So proud, you placed your feet in front of him, picked up the phone beside you, and held it to your ear.

"Afternoon," you mumbled.

"Afternoon," he answered.

Then silence. He spoke after a moment.

"No nurses?"

"Nah, I wanted to give them a break this week."

He laughed; it was a short, raspy laugh, one you were used to. He shouldn't be laughing, not at all. "What do you want?"

"Just to talk."

We're talking right now," you said,

I'm already feeling a migraine coming on.

"You used to talk more. You'd tell me everything, and more."

Oh God, he's reminiscing. "I was twelve, Bruce. I didn't know how to shut up."

"And now you do." He smiled, and it was that warm, dad smile that made you want to puke. You felt your collar beep.

"Something wrong?"

"Nothing, just tired."

Tired of you, but he really wasn't here just to talk—he's a detective with questions, and you're someone with answers.

"I took Slade to prison."

Great, imprisoning another father figure. How beautiful.

"God, you can't be serious."

You sighed.

"I am."

"Is that my gift imprisoning my mentor. "

"Yes." This has to be a joke. Taking the person who cares most about me and putting them in prison? Great, just terrific, Father of the damn Year.

"I'm going to kill you, you know that, right?"

"No, you're not." You hate how confident he sounds.

"You couldn't do it the first time, so how are you going to do it now? You still care for me, [Nickname]."

"Don't fucking call me that! You have no right to call me that!" My collar beeped, and I let out a deep breath.

"And as for caring, I don't."

"But you do."

"No, I don't."

He gave me that sickly sweet smile that could make your heart melt, but I wasn't falling for his tricks. I'm better than that, and I'm better than him.

"When I get out of here, you're dead. I have three months left in here, and when I'm free, ha, you'll have a sweet little bullet right between your skull."

"I'd like to see you try, dear." Oh, you'll see.

"You're fucking dead."

"I love you too, sweetheart."

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀˚ ⋆⠀⠀⠀ィ⠀⠀⠀⠀after last night⠀⠀⠀ ࿐ ⠀⠀⠀

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@goodsoup19

@onceinamillionposter

@pocketfulofposies

@fleursdeau

@time-shardz

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limarkova · 3 days ago

Text

Experimental Obsession

Part 11

Everyone was waiting anxiously in Jason's apartment for word on how (Name) was doing. Steph knew the PTSD was going to be bad from the little she learned. But total disassociation over the mere thought of the experiments. It was worse than anything they could have expected, especially since she was so much younger than Steph first thought.

Yes, she had heard stories and had seen (Name) in passing. That didn't change her mental perception of the girl. The stories made her sound older. At passing glance at what she was doing, taking notes and doing science experiments or lectures. Those were older kid activities, not seven- or eight-year-old activities. To think that no one was looking out for at the age. It made Steph feel guilty for not noticing. Why had she been so nervous? Cause she was previously a Robin and a Batgirl.

Shaking her head, Steph forced herself to continue reviewing the files. Well Barbara had decoded and read one of the files, there were dozens. So, they decided to start reviewing them while they waited. She sat reading through boring medical terminology she barely caught on to and horrifying descriptions of violence. (Name) was really just eight to nine going through this.

Steph paused as she began a new file. This one was dated two days before the escape. Her mind flashed back to her interrogation of Matthew Jenkins. If her math was right this would be the test that made Henry Duncan tap out. The one that made her chest look like a deflate balloon. Steph began to read the report when Tim spoke up.

"I have something."

"So, do I. I think." Steph held up her tablet gesturing to it, "You go first Tim. I still have to read through this."

"Okay so it would appear we've all misunderstood (Name)'s meta-abilities." Tim placed his tablet on the coffee table for anyone who wanted to look at it, "She's not a super healer. She produces a chemical in her blood stream that causes the effects of miraculous healing and potentially immortality."

"What? That should be impossible, there's no chemical capable of that. Even the Lazarus Pit has a limit" Damian snapped, setting his tablet aside.

"You're right it's technically not a chemical." Tim shrugged before looking towards the door to Jason's bedroom. (Name) and Jason were in there, as Jason attempted to calm her down. "It's a liquid metal, but it's still in her blood stream."

"You don't mean..." Dick started looking up from his tablet. Tim nodded causing Dick to swear, "Dionesium. What are the chances The Court of Owls is involved."

"It's unclear right now but we may need to explore that angle. Though the Court probably would have used Electrum. She, however, produces pure Dionesium in her bloodstream. Not Electrum." Tim looked down at his tablet again as Bruce picked it up. "At least that's my theory currently. They wrote it down as Concentrated Lazarus Pit Water they had found in a cave system somewhere beneath Gotham."

"I thought I destroyed the lake of Dionesium under Gotham after the Joker Virus incident?" Bruce looked up from the file. He gave Tim a quizzical look.

"Either it wasn't completely destroyed, or there's another one." Tim shrugged again, "Whatever the case they don't know what they found. That or I'm completely off base and were missing a file of how they treated actually Lazarus Pit Water to 'concentrate' it. However, they still got the Chemical they injected her with from a cave in Gotham. We're going to have to find that."

Bruce sighed, rubbing his temple. Steph focused back on her file and began to skim it for details, "On a different note. I found the log for the final experiment they perform before (Name) escape. The one that made Henry Duncan storm off."

"Really? What did they do?" Barbara asked. Throughout this whole ordeal everyone had shared horrifying revelations of what the experiments had done. Drowning, Burning, Shooting, Stabbing, and that was just the tip of the iceberg. Duke even found a file where it shows she no longer displayed any brain activity when hurt. All that to lead up to the final experiment in Steph's hands.

Steph began to read through the file. She paused in confusion reading through the beginning, "Well they started by sedating her and preparing her for surgery?"

"Surgery?" Cass asked looking towards the tablet in Steph's hands.

"Yeah. Apparently, the anesthesia didn't work properly so she was conscious throughout the whole ordeal." Steph continued to read through the file. Every word felt like falling further and further down a ravine with no clue where the end was. She could feel the color draining from her face as pieces started to click into place. Pressing on her chest, deflated balloon, something growing. No not growing, re-growing. Steph's voice was barely above a whisper, "Oh dear god."

She was ten. She was child and they did that to her, all well she was awake. Steph felt like she going to be sick. "Oh, dear god, she was awake through that. Shit she probably remembers it too."

Steph felt like vomiting. That are running into the room with (Name) and Jason to hug the girl.

"Stephanie!" Dick grabbed ahold of her. It shocked her enough to drop the tablet. It slid across the floor landing by the coffee table. "What did they do?"

"We've been looking for our suscepts in the wrong place. They're not Meta Traffickers." Steph looked towards where (Name) was. She was ten and they didn't even know she was in trouble. "They're Organ Traffickers, who just made an endless supply."

Dick let go of Steph. He blinked a few times before glancing at the door. Everyone looked towards the door. The room had gone deathly silent as pieces began to slide into place. It was Bruce who spoke first, "We change plans. Now."

Steph looked towards him to see a dark look she had never seen on Bruce's face before. Soon it was as if dark steel had crossed everyone's face. They would not let (Name) down again.

When you started to come back to reality, you could feel someone holding you and humming. It was a familiar tune; one you remember in blur dreams about the past. A goofy little song about axolotls and penguins. The person singing seemed to remember the lyric more clearly than you. Slowly you began to join in the silly song, holding just the melody without the words.

A blanket had been wrapped around you and someone's arm pressed you against their chest. The humming mixed with the steady beating of their heart acting like a lifeline to the present. There was a shout in the next room that had you jerking up. The person allowed you to move but was soon hushing you back towards their chest. It was so gentle you simply allowed the motion to happen.

"How you feeling, angel?" You looked up to see that you were wrapped in Jason's arms. Blinking up at him, you shook your head before leaning back down to listen to his heartbeat. He took a deep breath. Soon he was slowly stroking your head. You hummed before burying your face in his chest.

This was okay. You could pretend you were safe for right now. Just like the blurred memories of when you were a toddler. Leaning into Jason's arms after your reoccurring nightmare. He had changed physically since them. Taller, buffer, but the comfort factor remained the same. "Do you want me to tell you a story, like old times?"

"I don't remember those times very well." You murmured gripping onto his shirt. "I know you taught me to read."

"Yeah, I did." Jason mumbled. You didn't look up at his face, but you could tell he was sad. There was something haunted in his voice, "Your favorite storybook wasn't even a story. It was a meet the planets picture book."

"Each of the planets had a different voice." The laugh that bubbled out of you was small. A hazy memory of Jason as a teenager with voice cracks reading in different voices danced in your head.

Jason laughed too, "Later when we played you insisted on being a space exploring scientist princess and I was your space pilot knight."

"Why did we stop playing?" The atmosphere shifted but didn't entirely break. Jason shifted the blanket, so you were wrapped up just a little tighter.

Once satisfied he asked one question. "How about a story okay?" You nodded and Jason began.

"Once upon a time in a kingdom not too far away lived a family of brave knights. Each one was skilled trained personally by the King, a skilled knight in his own right. One day a Princess was born and the King assigned one of his closest knights to protect the young girl. This made the two grow very close, acting as brother and sister despite having no blood ties.

When the Princess was two, a threat arose. A Clown Prince threatened the kingdom and more specifically the Knight's mother. The Knight having believed his mother was dead, rushed to her aid, ignoring the King's warnings. He ended up being captured by the Clown Prince. Before the King could rescue him, the Knight was killed.

Yet it the story didn't end there. Two years later a skilled Necromancer and his daughter found the body of the Knight. Together the two raised him from the dead but when he came back, he was no longer a knight. His body no longer felt right, and he quickly discovered he had been made into a monster. The Necromancer had showed him the kingdom. The now reborn Monster had been replaced by someone else as the King's Closest Knight and Princess once adore was left alone with no one. The Monster couldn't tell if she was left alone for asking questions or for not accepting the new knight.

In a fit of rage, the Monster attacked the King and his Knights. The fighting lasted months before finally the Monster's rage subsided. In those battles however the Monster did many horrible things, still the family accepted him. Even with the acceptance the Monster was scared to approach the Princess. If couldn't bring himself to accept the possibility of accidently hurting her. So, he stayed away for years, watching from the shadows as she grew to be a brilliant and kind scholar. When he finally had the courage to explain to her what had happened all those years ago..."

Jason's voice caught in his throat as he tried to finish the story. You had pressed your face against his chest. Softly you whispered, "She disappeared."

"(Name)." Jason took a deep breath. "I know that you probably want revenge or to make sure what happened to you doesn't happen to anyone else."

Your breath caught in your chest when Jason said those words. Fear that he knew what you were planning shot through you. He continued, "But please promise me you won't become a vigilant. I swear I'll get your revenge for you and make sure whatever happen to you doesn't happen again. Just please don't become one of us."

You took a deep breath to calm your nerves. One of your hands was under the blanket where he couldn't see it. You crossed your fingers slowly, "I promise."

The laboratory was quiet. Everyone involved had gone home for the day with the procedures completed. Isabella walked down the faux-hospital halls towards the office where her father worked. With Subject Origin lose somewhere in Gotham, the plan had changed. Subjects Alpha through Hotel were no longer allowed to leave during their recover phase. Just in case Batman got involved, he couldn't follow the subjects to the new location.

She knocked on the door to her father's office before slipping inside. The older man was sitting at his desk scribbling away on his journal. Isabella glared at the book, at least the notes in there were no longer about her. "All surgeries have been completed. We're monitoring the recipients now for any signs of rejection."

Her father hummed. There was long pause in which the only sounds that could be heard was the scratching of her father's pen. Finally, he sent the pen down looked at her, "Isabella what are the two results we are expecting?"

"Either all the recipient's bodies will accept the new organ, or they will all rejected." Isabella looked towards the ground. She intentionally didn't learn any of the kid's names. It made things easier for her; they were letters not children.

"Do you know why those are the two results?"

"No, I don't."

"Because" Her father stood walking towards the framed letter that revoked his medical license. Isabella didn't understand why he framed that of all things. "The experiments changed (Name)'s organs so they longer match any humans. She is a being that is truly unique now."

"Whose (Name)?" Isabella tilted her head to the side.

"Subject Origin, of course. Her name is (Name) Wayne." Isabella tried not to throw up. Wayne. Her mind flashed back to high school, to one of her friends that ended up dropping out to run Wayne Enterprises. It was easier to not know the names of her father's victims, because it made so she didn't know which of her friends was being reflected back to her.

Isabella began to silently pray Tim would never know what her father had done.

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hwaslayer · 2 days ago

Text

the space between us three (jyh) | ten.

⇢series masterlist | series playlist

⇢summary: while juggling the demands of life, yunho continues to do his best to raise his independent 11 yr old daughter, seora. throughout the years, they've built a strong foundation, an unbreakable bond— one that consists of late night talks and food runs, father/daughter dates, and sideline cheerleading at her basketball games. so when you unexpectedly come into their world, things shift. despite the uncertainty and the fear of stepping outside of their comfort zone, yunho and seora eventually learn how to open their hearts and learn how to rebuild a home where three can thrive together.

⇢pairing: single dad!yunho x f. reader

⇢genre: (18+ - minors dni) strangers to lovers, single dad au | fluff, angst, smut

⇢word count: 4.6k

⇢chapter content/warnings: cussing/mature language, hwa just hella unsure and causing problems lol, typical yunho x oc being cute af, making out, a lil bit of some dry humping, flashback scene of yunho taking seora to see her mom, crying, yunho opens up to seora about his relationship and it goes south

⇢a/n: the hongjoong fic is starting! you can find it here in case you missed it <33

"Hey." You pop into Noeul's cubicle, welcoming yourself into the free chair. "How's it going?" You're taking a break after the emails briefly stopped flooding in, checking in with your bestfriend. She seems better, but you know where her mind is still at.

"Hey cutie." She looks at you. "It's been alright. Dealing with some more internal issues, but nothing too bad." She chuckles. "Finally got a minute to breathe?"

"Mhm."

"Seeing your man later?"

"Mhm." You respond in a sing-song tone. "Can't wait. Miss him."

"Cuties. Love you two."

"Have you talked to Seonghwa?" You ask, just to give her time to vent if needed.

"Nope."

"He didn't text you back?"

"Um, no. No he hasn't." She gives you a tiny, forced smile and it breaks your heart. "He's been ignoring me, actually. I saw him this morning on the way to the office, and I thought it was my window to talk to him."

"But? Did you guys make contact?"

"Yeah, but he literally popped out his phone and made a beeline for the entrance." She scoffs. "Yoori's also been majorly giving me the eye."

"Well."

⇢FLASHBACK

noeul: hey, can we talk?

hwa: sorry, not a good time. swamped today.

noeul: okay, so can't we talk after work?

hwa: can't.

noeul: seonghwa, really?

"Sorry." Seonghwa says as he slips into Yoori's office, her face unamused when he finds him tucking his phone into his pocket. "I just got caught up with something."

"Noeul, you mean?" She looks at his pocket and he lets out a heavy sigh.

"No. I was editing an article I need to get out before the end of the week."

"Right." Yoori looks at him over her computer. Seonghwa can tell she's still not happy. And although he doesn't blame her, he is getting tired of the attitude. Of her temper and being short with him. Of keeping within the same routine. He tried to make it up to her. Tried to make this different.

But in the end, it didn't feel so different and he doesn't want to continue if it'll keep heading down this route.

He does think about the fun he had with Noeul. He thinks about having more fun with her. He thinks about how maybe, Noeul would be different. A different kind of fun for him.

"I didn't come here to fight." Seonghwa sighs. "I wanted to ask if you wanted to go out to dinner tonight."

"Not really."

"Why not?"

"I don't really wanna be out tonight, especially after the day I've already had."

"I'm sorry, but what does that have to do with me taking you out to dinner? I'll pick you up and drop you off. Or, you can stay at mine if you want."

"Seriously Hwa. Not tonight. Can we raincheck?" He sighs again and nods defeatedly.

"Yeah sure."

"Is there anything else?" She asks him and he just shakes his head. Feeling like he wasted his time to see her. He was excited to see her and ask her out tonight.

But, that went down the drain.

And now, as he's heading back to his office, he's staring at the thread between him and Noeul. Wondering if he should text her and finally talk to her. He's starting to think that Noeul wasn't just that shiny new toy to him and that his heart hasn't truly belonged to Yoori all this time.

Maybe, he needs to break free if all they do is go in circles.

Circles he feels obligated to follow because Yoori is all he's known these past months.

⇢END

"I'm sorry." You brush her hair away from her face.

"Maybe I am just stupid."

"You're not. He's just.. not the right guy, and that's totally fine." You look at her, slightly frowning. "You'll find someone who is worthy of your love and will shower you with the love you deserve."

"I know, but why can't I let go of it? We literally made out at your birthday and that was it."

"Well, you had fun with him. You were with him for the majority of the night. He's attractive too, I can't lie." You shrug. "But, he also needs to really get his shit together, especially with the whole Yoori thing. You don't wanna be another part of that equation, and you don't deserve to." She sighs.

"I just gotta let it go. You're right. It makes no sense for me to hold onto this. He's with Yoori and there's no changing that."

"Quite frankly, I don't even know if Yoori has him." She looks at you, forehead crinkled. "Okay, sorry. Point is, he needs to get himself together and you deserve someone who is sure of you. They'll come along, no doubt."

"I hope so."

"My sweet Noeul." You throw your arm around her. "Come over sometime this week or weekend? We can have a girl's night. I'll tell Sian, too."

"I could use another shopping date. I need a new, cute but functional, everyday bag."

"Are we thinking luxury bag?"

"Maybe."

"Treat yourself! Let's do it." Noeul smiles. "There she is."

"Love you."

"Love you, too." Your phone dings, signaling a text from Yunho and another coworker about a project-related. order "Let me get back to work. I've gotta check on this order I placed for the team. They needed specific electrodes for this study and they said they'd have it by a specific time this week. Gotta make sure it's on track."

"Goodluck."

"Thank you. Text me if you need anything? Or come bother me if you have time." She nods.

With that, you text your coworker back as you head to the procurement facility to check on the status of their order. It's an elevator ride down to the basement, and luckily, there isn't a huge line or a lot of people crowding the area to pick up orders. You find your contact to get an update, relieved it should be delivered tomorrow and can be picked up before lunch time. You relay the info to your coworker as you head back upstairs to your desk, the emails and task items slowly building post-break.

yunho: can't wait to see you later pretty girl

you: excited 🥰 what's lunch?

yunho: surprise!

you: boooooo

yunho: don't give me that, cutie. it'll be worth it!

yunho: gtg, gotta look into one of the systems slowing down

yunho: 😘

You set the phone down to get back to work, only to come back to it with another text from Yunho.

yunho: damn kiss me back at least??????

you: can you go?! 😂

you: 😘

You giggle to yourself, finishing up the other tasks that have made its way to you before lunch time comes around the corner. You get the usual text from Yunho letting you know he was heading to your meeting spot, so you grab your water bottle and head out. It's a bit chilly outside, causing you to wrap your jacket around you tightly— easily finding Yunho's tall figure ahead.

"Hi." You giggle when Yunho pulls you in for a tight hug and presses a kiss to the top of your head.

"Missed you, pretty girl." He raises a cute bag up. "Made some kimbap with Seora last night."

"I missed you, too." Your eyes glow at the bag. "That's so sweet. Can't wait to eat 'em for lunch, I'm sure it's delicious." You smile, tiptoeing to give him a curt peck on the lips. You feel Yunho smile against the kiss, subtly biting his lip when you pull back.

"Can we get to the car? Now?"

"Yunho." You laugh, squealing when Yunho laces his hand with yours—rushing over to his car in the staff garage and dragging you along. He has long strides, so you're having to keep up 10x more than normal. "Yunho! You're a giant, I can't keep up!" He laughs when he decides to carry you and gets you into his car— immediately sliding into the driver's seat and reversing out of the spot. "Why are you rushing?!"

"Because we're on a time crunch and I just need my time with you. What do you mean why?" You snort.

"Uh huh."

"I also just want you on my lap, is that so much to ask?" You let out a cute yell, making Yunho laugh even louder. He makes his way to the usual trail and lake, parking underneath the shade since the sun is out despite the chill. He pops open the large container, showing you the different kinds of kimbap they made. He hands you some chopsticks, allowing you to dig in first and give an honest review.

"Yum! This is so good, Yu."

"Yeah? You aren't lying?" He looks at you, maintaining eye contact until you break first.

"Swear." You chuckle.

"Your mom and dad said it was good, too. I'll give credit to Seora for the idea and for planning out what kimbap we'd make."

"The girl's got taste!" You pop in another one, looking out at the lake ahead. There's a few people walking the trail, elderly couples holding onto each other as they take their time with their stroll or runners getting a workout in before it gets too late in the afternoon. Ducks are taking a dip in the lake, squirrels running up the trees.

It's a nice reminder of life's little blessings.

"Hey." You turn in the passenger's seat, tucking your leg underneath the other to sit comfortably.

"Yeah, baby?"

"How was it? Did you take Seora to the cemetery?"

"Yeah." He smiles. "It was good. She was really happy."

"Did she get to decorate?"

"Lots."

⇢FLASHBACK

"What's that?" Yunho asks as he drives over to the cemetery, briefly glancing at Seora's lap when he gets a chance.

"You know how I got into crochet kits lately?"

"Yes, I'm reminded by the monthly subscription that goes through on my card." Seora laughs. "You're making good use of it."

"Yeah. I made one from the Hello Kitty line I got in. I made the Little Twinstars." Seora raises the two. "They're holding hands. I know they're siblings but I wanted it to be like.. me and mom."

"That's cute." Yunho smiles a bit.

"I also made this sushi and named it Oishi. It has a little slice of tamago on the top." Yunho laughs.

"You're just like your mom. Inspiring and creative." Seora smiles.

"Then, I made a drawing of our picture."

"It's beautiful."

"And a threaded bracelet."

"Wow, you really got to work." Seora shows her wrist and holds it near her father's by the wheel.

"She can match us now."

"That's right." Yunho pulls into the cemetery and drives toward the columbarium. He parks near the front doors, letting out a sigh when he shuts off the car. "Ready to go, ace?"

"I am." She nods with a soft smile. Yunho quickly hops out to help Seora out of the passenger seat, shutting her door for her when she climbs out with all her things. Yunho walks alongside of her as they enter the quiet, still building. Seora holds onto her father's arm as they walk down the hall, Yunho leading her through the familiar path towards Eunha.

"Here." He brings her in front of her niche, looking down to see her reaction. She slowly steps forward, her hand touching the glass.

"Mom." She says quietly.

"Go ahead." Yunho hands her the key to unlock the little glass door. She takes it, slowly sliding the key into the lock before twisting it open.

"Brought you some stuff that I made." She says quietly. Yunho watches with a smile on his face as Seora continues to explain to her mom what each item is and why she brought it. Once the decorations are settled to her liking inside, she lets out a sigh and drops her head. He hears her sniffling, her hand coming up to wipe her tears away.

"Ace?" He comes from behind, hands on her shoulders.

"I just miss her." Is all she says before she turns to dig her head into her father's chest.

"Oh, ace." Yunho holds her close, gently rubbing her back as she continues to quietly cry— tears a sign of all the pain and sadness she harbored over the years. "I'm so sorry, babygirl." He whispers against the top of her head before placing a small kiss to the surface.

The days and nights of longing for a mother's love, a mother's touch.

Yearning and needing.

All coming to surface.

"Can we sit here for a bit and talk about mom?"

"Of course."

"I remember some things."

"You do?" Seora nods. She remembers a few core memories from when she was small; they're all bits and pieces, fragments of the past when she wished she had all the puzzle pieces together to see the bigger picture. But, she remembers. She remembers pieces of her mom and that's what matters to her, that's what she'll hold onto tightly.

She remembers when she finally stopped whining and crying during swim class— finding the courage to join the other toddlers in the water to learn how to float and get used to the feeling. She remembers her mom encouraging her with her sweet tone, telling her she believed in her. She remembers the kiss to her forehead, feeling it against her skin like it was just yesterday.

And Yunho listens.

He chimes in with a few other stories from when she was a baby, the two of them giggling and in good spirits while sitting around Eunha. The hour goes by so quickly, it feels like 5 minutes to the two.

⇢END

"That's so sweet."

"Yeah, we spent about a good hour there. Gonna make it our weekend thing besides our little dates and her games."

"Cute." You smile. "You should." The both of you are sipping water, popping in some gum post-meal. "I'm glad you two had that time together and will keep it a part of your schedule."

"Yeah." Yunho leans his head back against the headrest, eyeing you up and down as much as he possibly can from his seat. "Come here, baby." He says lowly, subtly licking his lips.

"Hm?" You hum, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks.

"C'mere." He gives you a look, adjusting his seat back to make room for you.

"Babe, people might see us!" You say, even though you're already preparing to take your seat on your man's lap.

"And I do not give a fuck." He laughs. "They can have a free show." He watches as you climb over, straddling his lap. "Besides, you're already here. Did you really have strong opinions about it in the first place?" He looks up at you as you trace his jaw with your thumb. He takes your hand in his, kissing your fingers, your knuckles.

"Maybe, maybe not."

"Mm, tease, aren't you?" He smirks, lips edging towards yours. He licks his lips, hands gripping at your hips to keep you close. "Hm, pretty girl?" He whispers just as his lips graze yours, followed by a light, feathery kiss. You finally dip forward to lock him into a kiss.

It's soft at first. Sweet.

Yunho's lips against yours feel perfect. Like it was molded to fit yours, to console you, to keep you safe;

Like it was made to love you.

Your hands fall to his cheeks, thumb pads grazing the surface, his jaw. The kiss deepens quick, tongues moving together in a slow dance. Yunho grip on your hips tightens, egging you to move on him.

And you do just that.

Slowly, eagerly. With intent, meaning.

"Yunho." You breathe out, trapping him into another kiss just as he bites onto your bottom lip and tugs it back.

"Yeah, baby?" He whispers, hand coming up behind your neck; fingers threading through your hair to keep you close.

"Wish we could be home right now."

"Say the word and I'll take you home." You giggle against his lips, pecking him once more.

"You've gotta pick up Seora later."

"I can stop by yours before I do." He leans forward to continue kissing you like there's no tomorrow. "I plan to tell Seora tonight, by the way." You pause, hands still cupping his cheeks.

"A-are you sure, love?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" He rubs at the sides of your thighs, but you sit back— titling your head as you look at him.

"Maybe we should wait a bit more? You just took her to the cemetery to see her mom, Yu. She might need time."

"She'll be okay. I just.. I wanna tell her sooner than later. Or else, I'll feel like it's never the right time and that's unfair to you."

"Well, she's the one who matters the most."

"I promise she'll be fine. You trust me, right?"

"I do. It's not that. I'm just not sure how she'll react." It's true, you don't know how she'll react and that's what you're afraid of. You're afraid she'll take it the wrong way, you're afraid she'll never look past it. You're afraid she'll never accept this.

And if she doesn't, then it'll be something you'll have to accept.

Seora will always come first and you will never do anything to challenge that. To break her beautiful relationship with her father, to ruin her comfort zone.

"Either way, it's going to be an adjustment, but we'll make this work."

"Together?"

"Always." His eyes fall to your lips before he dips in for another sweet, long kiss. You giggle after awhile, breaking the kiss to look at your phone.

"Fuck. Maybe we should head back." You flash your phone at him, seeing there's only about 10 minutes left of break." Yunho sighs, groaning a bit.

"Fine."

"Grump." You joke as you climb back into the passenger's seat.

"No seriously, can I pop in before I pick up Seora?"

"Yunho." You pinch his arm. "And be late to pick her up? Absolutely not."

"Ah— okay." He pouts as he starts up the car and begins to head back toward the hospital. "Are you working from home any day this week?"

"Maybe." You laugh, and he wiggles his eyebrows. You swear Yunho is such a dork, but you fall for him more and more every day.

"There's my invite."

"You're too much." He slides his free hand into yours, kissing the surface.

"Just love my time with you, that's all." He smiles softly. Yunho looks at you, and he just feels love. He feels lucky to have found someone again who understands him, takes him for him and is willing to love him and all that he comes with.

He doesn't want to lose that.

Even though he knows it'll be tough, he doesn't want to lose that.

The ride back to work is quiet besides the tiny kisses shared before hopping out to get back to your offices. You've got a few hours left in your workday, and for Yunho, it's a little longer in comparison with all the tickets he's helping the team with. He's also got a check-in meeting to finalize the plans for the new unit before he can wrap up and call it a day.

All in a day's work.

"Hey." He hears a familiar voice as he straps in his backpack and throws his hat on before heading out for the afternoon.

"What's up?" Yunho looks at Seonghwa with a small smile. "You look beat."

"I am."

"Didn't you see Yoori earlier?" Seonghwa walk alongside of his bestfriend as they head out to the staff garage.

"Yeah. That didn't go all that well."

"Well, how do you expect her to act?" Seonghwa shrugs.

"I don't know, but quite frankly, I'm getting kinda tired of it."

"What?" Yunho snorts. "You wanted the casual, lowkey thing."

"Yeah, but things were kinda changing. Now, we barely even do anything. We don't go out, we don't have fun. Nothing. It's usually a quick outing to eat or else we stay at each other's places."

"Isn't that the point of lowkey and casual?" Yunho looks at him. "What's making you second guess? Noeul and the whole club thing?"

"Maybe?" Yunho shakes his head.

"Figure it out first. Don't get Noeul wrapped up in this even more if you aren't sure."

"I feel bad, I brushed her off earlier."

"Exactly, Hwa. Don't do that. Not only cause she's Y/N's friend, but you don't string someone along because you want a fun backup." Hwa sighs.

"It's not even just that."

"Then?" Yunho unlocks his car and tosses his backpack in the trunk.

"I don't know."

"Figure it out, my guy. Wouldn't hurt to get expedited shipping on that either. Someone's gonna end up real hurt if you aren't honest about what you want and need right now." Hwa sighs. "Can never be simple with you, can it?"

"Anyway. Did you see Y/N earlier?"

"Mhm. Of course." Yunho chuckles.

"Are you still planning to tell ace tonight about you two?"

"I think so, yeah. I kinda just wanna rip the bandaid off."

"Goodluck. I'm sure she'll be fine eventually. But, let me know how it goes."

"Deflecting." Yunho teases making Seonghwa roll his eyes as he starts to back away towards the direction of his car.

"Fuck off, alright? Tell ace I said hi." Yunho chuckles before sliding into his car and heading out to pick up his daughter and his tiny-but-not-so-tiny bestfriend. He parks in the school's lot, walking over to the gym to catch the tail end of practice. He watches as they run their last play of the evening, running a few minutes over time. Coach calls it, yelling out the play until the girls run it all the way through in perfection. Yunho nods, loving these moments when he can see his baby girl in action. He greets a few of other parents before watching Seora drag herself to the locker room to grab her things and head home. "Hey ace." Yunho says when he sees Seora dragging her huge duffle bag along. He laughs and takes it from her, slinging the strap over his shoulder. "How was practice?"

"God, awful. We ran so many of the plays just to get a feel for it for the next playoff game."

"That's good."

"Not good. My legs are beat." She looks up at him as she sips her water bottle. "What's dinner?"

"Was thinking we could just do kimchi-jjigae."

"Mm. Yum!" She says, throwing her backpack in the trunk once it's popped open. "Sounds good right about now."

"Yeah, doesn't it?" When the trek home begins, Seora starts to tell her father about her day and how much of a good day she had. None of her friends were out sick, and they got to watch movies in a couple of her classes. The more he hears her talk about her day, the more he feels the guilt building in the pit of his stomach.

Because he would be the reason that would change.

The reason why her day would ended on such a dramatic, life-changing note.

But, he keeps himself strong— keeps his decision firm because he knows he just has to do it. He looks at her and cherishes her smile and her laugh, hoping he could still see those same bright features once he lays it all out for her. For the future.

He hopes he doesn't lose his baby girl.

When they get home, they greet your parents through the kitchen window and more guilt settled into the pit of his stomach realizing that would be the next step.

You, handling your parents. Hoping they'd support you in this relationship.

Yunho kicks off his shoes and Seora races to the bathroom to shower and get comfy. He decides to get the kimchi-jjigae and rice going before washing up for the night and getting into some pajamas. By the time everything's finished, Seora is already sitting at the table watching her show while Yunho brings over the hot pot of kimchi-jjigae to the center of the table. He grabs their bowls to put some rice inside before setting them down next to the pot They say their grace before digging in, Yunho indulging in the show she has on. She explains the current plot, keeping her father up to date on all the drama that's happened so far. They talk about other shows and upcoming movies in between, Seora basically planning one of their dates as another movie date.

This time, at a different theater. One that has different themes in each theater room, and it switches out almost every month.

Yunho just agrees, wanting to take Seora anywhere just so she could be happy and they can spend time together outside of the house. When dinner is done, Yunho and Seora clean up the dishes and close out the kitchen, but Seora finds it a good time to dig for some dessert to balance out the savory meal they've had.

Yunho also finds it a good time to just cut to the chase.

Let her know what's been going on.

"Ace."

"Hm?" She digs through the fridge.

"Can I talk to you for a sec?"

"If it's about me being head deep into the fridge to find dessert, I'm sorry dad, but I have no regrets." Yunho chuckles.

"No. Listen to me." She shuts the fridge emptyhanded.

"We need more desserts."

"Noted." Seora senses the shift in his tone. The dip.

"What is it, daddy?"

"I've... been seeing someone for awhile now."

"Like friends? I see my friends all the time?"

"No, dating. As in a relationship."

"Dating? Relationship?"

"Yeah." Yunho swallows the lump in his throat when he sees the smile on her face die and turn into a frown. Here it goes.

"Dating?" She repeats in utter disbelief. "So, what was the weekend all about?"

"What does the weekend have to do with what I'm telling you, baby girl?"

"Mom? Visiting her?" She scoffs. "Do you even remember Mom like that, or are you just replacing her with someone because it doesn't even matter anymore? Replacing her with someone who knows where the freaking juice is in the fridge—"

"Seora." Yunho furrows his brows. "Hey, stop that. You do not say that to me. I never said she was replacing your mom. I could never. I just wanted to tell you when the time felt right—" He falters. She stares back at him— expression unreadable at first, then her eyes flicker. "It isn't about forgetting her at all."

"It's about you. It's all about you!" Her tone raises. "You moved on. You moved on and didn't think I'd notice. You're clearly forgetting about her and moving on. You literally don't even care—"

"Seora, that's enough!" She scoffs again, rolling her eyes as she turns to head towards her room. "I thought you'd respond better than that."

"What do you expect me to say, dad? Congrats?!" She pauses and shakes her head. "Whatever. Have fun playing house with your new girlfriend."

"Seora!" She slams the door to her room, leaving Yunho dumbfounded in the living room. His jaw ticks, and he's not sure how to navigate this. Seora has never been this mad at Yunho and vice versa; sure, he's had to calmly discipline her before and correct mistakes, but they've never had this big of an argument.

Whenever they'd disagree, he knew it could easily be salvaged. They'd talk about it, Yunho would fix things patiently. They'd get back to the way they were. Seora would take her lessons to heart and wouldn't make the same mistake again because she'd never wanna disappoint her father, the most important man in her life. Her bestfriend.

Now, it doesn't feel so easily salvageable. Yunho has never seen her so mad. He's never felt this much anger and disappointment. He's not sure how long it'll take to blow over, or how they'd even move past this.

All he can do is sigh, running his hand through his hair before he mutters a short 'fuck' to himself. He cleans the living room and shuts off the lights for the night, sadly heading to bed when Seora doesn't come out for the rest of the evening. No goodnight's, no 'I love you's,' no hugs. And Yunho knows he shouldn't let them go to bed like this, but he knows she needs time. He needs time. He doesn't wanna make this worse, and he doesn't wanna do anything to hurt her more.

But, he expected this. He should've known. So, why doesn't he feel prepared at all?

Where does he go from here?

"Hey babe." Yunho feels himself relax a bit as he settles into his sheets, letting out a small sigh. "You okay?"

"I don't know. Definitely did not go as planned." You feel your heart beating against your chest, anxiety slightly rising. Of course it didn't go well. You also expected it, so why don't you feel prepared at all?

What a silly question to ask, Y/N.

"I'm sorry." You respond softly. "Maybe she really just needed time, Yu."

"I guess. Maybe it is my fault." He says defeatedly. "I don't think any other time would've been the right time, and I think she would've reacted this way regardless." He sighs. "But, part of me really hoped she'd be open to it. I don't know what to say to her, I don't know what to do. We've never been in an argument like this."

"Don't push her any further on this, okay? Let it settle and talk about it with her when things feel better."

"Yeah."

"We'll get through this, remember?"

"Mmyeah." He tries to be positive, but it's already killing him how upset Seora is. The silence on the phone is telling, and the silence is enough to scare you. It only makes you fear telling your mom even more, knowing she won't be supportive of it either.

You've talked about the possibilities, so why don't the both of you feel prepared?

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milkmily · 2 days ago

Text

Invitation ³ [Zayne]

Zayne x non mc! Reader

Sum. You and Zayne got an invitation to a wedding, but it was to attend the wedding of the people you two love, both heartbroken. (Smut, piv, oral, Zayne may be a bit out of character so I am sorry, it's been a while I've written smut so forgive me, As well for typos sorry)

<- One | Two | here(last part) | (possibly a lil short story not sure ->

Layla is MC(my mc/ oc)

It was sudden, as he pulled Layla into his office she couldn't stop her sobs. What had happened? What is going on? He worried as he saw her cry. He hasn't seen Layla cry in a while. Last time he saw her cry was when Sylus said his vows to her. Zayne tried to calm her down, give her time to breathe and let it all out. He had his arm wrapped around her as she wiped her tears away, her sobs turning into gasps.

It was all so confusing and it hurt seeing her like this, it truly did. “I'm sorry Zayne…” she mumbled. “About What?” He asks. “I just barged in here and…” She sighs and shakes her head. Zayne rubbed her shoulder and said, “It's fine, tell me.” Layla looked at him and her eyes broke him. She looked so sad, The shine in her eyes was gone. What had happened? Was it Sylus? “Sylus and I had a talk…” Oh so it was him. And something in him burned. Layla continued, “It was about her.” You. It was about you. Why you?

“Everything went okay, it was amazing really. But the problem was that Sylus kept bringing her up. It didn't bother me because I'd bring you and Caleb up from time to time.” She says. “But then he said how she's been distant, replying to his texts late and that when they'd meet again that they would need to talk.” She says. “I know that they are close but to keep bringing her up on our honeymoon? I talked with him and told him, he seemed not to have taken it well.” She says as her hands start to shake again, the tears building up into her eyes. “A-And he said that not to think too much of it, he said I over think! Of course I do!” She sobbed. “So we just started to argue. He thinks that you also get in the way!” She cried. Zayne froze as he heard that. Him? But he hasn't done anything. “I tried to talk to him but he just…we couldn't.” She says, sounding so broken and scared. “I love him so much, I don't want this argument to end what we have.” This was the first time he's heard her say that. ‘I love him…’ Why can't he get that through his head though? And why does he feel relief at hearing them argue? What was wrong with him?

“Perhaps you two need space?” He suggested and Layla looked at him and she seemed offended. “Space? But why? I mean, we are married to be together. I don't want space from him, I want him to be with me. I miss him already.” She cried. Zayne looked away. He didn't like hearing that. It brought him shame even thinking about how he's actually happy they argued. He wrapped an arm around her and said, “We have to do things we don't like in order for things to work, Layla.” she shook her head and connected to sob. He wrapped his arms around him and closed his eyes. “I'm sorry…” he whispers and she breaks more.

As he hugged Layla back, he felt like how he used to be with her. The way his heart beat at how close she was, but right now it felt hurt for her. Sadness as he Sees her cry. Maybe if they had gotten married instead, Zayne Would of never made her cry, never would have argued with her and always agreed with her. Everything.

“Zayne…?” He turns and sees you, standing right at the door, a box of macaroons at hand. And he remembered. He remembered you'd be at the hospital in his office with a gift. He felt guilty but all he thought of really was Layla and how hurt she is. You awkwardly looked away and said, “I'll leave. Um, I'll just leave these here…” You placed the macaroons down on the desk. You looked at Zayne who was looking right back at you. Zayne saw hurt in your face again, maybe even betrayal? It was the same face You had when you saw Layla and Sylus dance in their wedding. Zayne said nothing though. He still had his arms wrapped around Layla, his head laying on top of hers. But as he watched you leave, he felt guilty, even more than before.

It was quite between you and Sylus. You fidget with your fingers as you stare down them. “What happened?” You asked, still not looking at him. Sylus looked away, he seemed to feel guilty. He didn't feel guilty. “Me and Layla argued.” He says. Ah, the first argument for the newlyweds. “About what exactly?”

“You.” Your eyes go wide and quickly look at him. “Me?” You asked and he nodded. “You've been distant. You don't answer any of my texts, maybe like a day or two later and you don't call.” He says. “It had me worried. You know how worried I've been? I've had to make Luke and Kieran search for you to see what you've been up to. All they told me is you've been with that doctor.” He says. “I don't trust him, I've told you before.” He glares. Your eyes are wide at his words. “So you kept talking about me to your wife?!” You yelled and Sylus raised a brow at your reaction. “I just said I've been worried about you and you're mad?”

“Of course I am!” You yelled. “You talked to your wife about me? On your honeymoon? Seriously? Think about it this way, what if Layla was talking about Zayne to you saying how she's worried he hasn't answered any of her texts or calls, how would you feel?!” You say and Sylus looked at you. Men sure are stupid. He just looked down and you shook your head. “I understand you've been worried about me but you have to know I can handle things myself. And yes, I've been hanging out with Zayne. There is nothing wrong with that.” You say. Sylus nods and says, “I would like to apologize…” you shook your head and said, “No, apologize to her. Not me. You have to talk to her and explain. You are a smart man but for some things you aren't Sylus.” You say.

You noticed something though. You didn't react as you used to towards him. Your heart didn't jump as you saw him or how he talked to you. Nothing. Maybe if you had heard that a month ago where you were madly in love with him, then maybe you would have fallen more for him and even would have done something. But here you are, helping him try to talk to his wife and apologize. You felt normal around him. You sigh and say, “I will be back in a bit alright? I don't suggest taking some time off from seeing each other as the relationship might affect it, but talk to her. Reassure her that you are with her. And if she needs time, then let it happen, just keep talking and text Her.” You say. Maybe everything you are telling him is something you would have wanted with him. But now, you don't and only want what's best for his wife and him.

“Where are you going?” He asks. “To see Zayne. He had surgery today and I got him something.” You catch yourself smiling at the box of deserts and Sylus noticed too. He nods, understanding. “See if Layla is there, you don't need to tell her anything, I'll just want to know where she is, that's all.” He says. You nod and grab the box. “Help yourself around.” And leave.

You walked to the hospital building. The closer you got, tell more anxious you'd get. You wondered what Zayne would be doing now? Be in his office and review work? Sit and simply think? What is it he's doing?

You walked to the elevator and as the numbers got closer to Zayne's office. You were smiling and noticed that. You noticed how your heart beat fast and how anxious you felt just at the thought of him. The doors slid open and you walked out. As you get closer and closer, You breathe in and open the door. Zayne lets you anyway now. No need to knock, he will know. But you Were met with Layla crying in His arms.

The strange thing was the hug didn't hurt, it was the expression on his face. He looked like he had missed her, he felt hurt for her and most of all, he looks In love. The way his hand coos Her back and holds Her makes your heart ache. And just by that, you can tell Zayne really hasn't moved on, has he? “Zayne…” you called his name and he turned to look at you, his eyes going wide. It was quiet. Your eyes go to Layla who still had no clue you were even in the same room. Well, now you know where she is.

“I'll leave. Um, I'll just leave these here…” You placed the macaroons down on the desk. Your hands shake as you stare at the box for a second. You looked at him and saw he looked nervous, as if he had gotten caught stealing candy like a kid. You looked at Layla and back at Zayne before leaving, closing the door behind you. You stare down at your shoes and bite the side of your cheek as you walk to the elevator and press the button. Your whole body felt tired. You felt tired. Your feet somehow make you walk back home with the strength you had left in you.

You were hurt once again.

You had forgotten Sylus was even at home. You opened the door and were welcomed by the smell of food. You slip off your shoes and walk to the kitchen. “You don't have a lot of things Here sweetie, so I cooked what I could with what you had.” He says and turns to look at you but all he was met with was hurt. “Is something the matter?” He asks. Your gaze was low, avoiding him and all you could do was nod. Sylus knew you wouldn't want to talk about it so he stayed quiet. “Just take a seat and I'll give you some dinner.” He says and goes back to humming. You quickly got distracted because of how horrible he Sang. You chuckled and sat down.

Dinner was made with a glass of wine on the side. But all you thought about was Zayne. Sylus probably was thinking about Layla too. And you spoke, “At the wedding…” Sylus raised A brow. “You told me if I was hiding something.” You say and he nods. “I was…but if I had told you it was wrong. So I said when the time comes I'll tell you.” You say. And you felt right now that possibly today was truly the right time. “When I got the invitation, I was devastated. I cried when I saw your signature On it because it was true, you were going to get married.” You say as you look down at the now finished dinner plate. Sylus stared at you as you spoke, he could see how much you've been holding in and how painful it has been. As he heard you, it started to click to him. “At the wedding too, I cried. But when I saw you dance with her, I felt so broken, that my heart just started to hurt because I remembered the time we had danced together. It meant so much to me because that's when I realized how in love I was with you.” You say and move your gaze to his. “I don't expect you to risipricate the feelings. I already know that. But I just wanted to say it.” You sigh, the feeling of something taken off your chest. Sylus had thought for a moment and he nodded. “Thank you for telling me.” He says. You nod and start to eat.

It's been four days already since Sylus decided to stay over at your place. You had agreed only if he helped around the house to clean. He may be your boss but you are on vacation right now and he is not going to be sleeping here for free. The past four days you didn't contact Zayne. Everytime you thought of him your stomach hurt from anxiety and you'd distract yourself. You kept remembering how he held Layla, how he comforted her and the expression on his face. How could you forget that? You'd be at random thoughts by yourself in your bedroom about things. Things as in: was your love life messed up? Why is it messed up by tragedy? One sided love situations and conflict.

As for Layla and Sylus, they still talk and keep contact. Layla had wanted some distance from each other for a while, saying it was the best choice. You wonder if maybe Zayne had suggested that so he could be around Layla again. Sylus didn't like the idea but went along with it, he just had told Layla to text him often. They do make phone calls here and there but it's awkward since that wall is still between them. You can tell how desperate Sylus is to see Layla again. Sylus was on a call in the living room with Layla and you were in your bedroom again with your own thoughts. That's when the doorbell rings, you snapped out of your thoughts but still stayed in the same position on your bed. You knew Sylus would open the door either way. “Are they home?” You heard a familiar voice and stood up. You hesitated for a second. As soon as you heard his voice, you were quick to follow. You sigh and walk to the front door where Sylus and Zayne stood. Zayne's eyes moved to look at you and he seemed a bit tired, like he hadn't slept well the past nights. “Here she is.” Sylus says and walks away, leaving you two to talk.

“Are You alright? You haven't answered any of my texts and I worried something might have happened.” was the first thing he said. You avoid eye contact but look back at him. “Sorry, I've kept my phone on do not disturb.” You admit. He nods and says, “I've been trying to contact you for the past two days, I was worried since you didn't answer my calls and texts.” You are a quick texter.

“I Apologize, Zayne. I'll check on my phone again.” You say and Zayne sighs. “Is something the matter?” He asks. You shook your head. “No. Just handling Sylus. I'm sure you're doing the same with Layla.” He looked away and nodded. You nod back and say, “I have to go back in. I need to help cook dinner.” Zayne looks at you. It seemed he didn't want you to leave but let's you, giving you a nod. “Alright, but please, just answer my texts or calls.” He pleaded before he excused himself and left. You close the door and quickly ran to your room for your phone you unlocked it and saw everything

I would like to apologize about today. If you Have time, could you Come to my office tomorrow?

I hope your night goes well today.

And then it goes to the next day.

Thank you for the sweet treat, they were delicious. I Apologize for the calls as well.

Would you like to go out to eat at a restaurant? Layla recommended it, she says it's good.

Hello?

Missing call

Are you alright?

Then a day passes.

How was your day?

Is something the matter? Layla had told me Sylus is at your place? She says you're fine.

Did I do something wrong?

And then the next day.

I am sorry but I worry for you. I'll be going to your house to see how you are.

And it ends there. You sigh and answer the texts,

Hey Zayne, sorry again. And yes, I would like to go to the restaurant. Just tell me when and what time and I can see.

To your surprise he answered quickly.

Is tomorrow night fine? I can pick you up.

You looked at his text, your heart beating quickly, making you groan at your decision.

Yes, that works.

Layla had talked with Sylus and she said she needed some space. She would still contact him but needed to think things through. As for Zayne, He stayed beside her. Always did. The first day, he had helped Layla feel better by making her something to eat, get her to watch something to distract herself but all she did was look at her phone and answer it as quickly as she could when a notification came through. Which would bother Zayne. And Layla noticed but she said nothing about it, why should she?

Zayne looks at the TV, it was some romance Christmas movie Layla had picked. He saw the two love interests build a snowman and quickly thought of you. He remembered when he made the small snow kitty for you and saw how your eyes went wide and they shined at how cute it was. He couldn't help but smile at that thought. But for a second he remembered the expression you had when you saw him with Layla. The hurt. He looked away from the TV, no longer wanting to see it as it reminded him of you. He walked to his office and from afar he could still see Layla stare at her phone screen in hopes for any message or call to come through. Zayne looks down at his own phone and sighs, no message from you at all. Maybe you have been busy with something since Sylus came back. He grabbed his phone and texted you.

I would like to apologize about today. If you Have time, could you Come to my office tomorrow?

I hope your night goes well today.

The next day comes. Layla was asleep in the guest room while he got up early to head to work. He opens the fridge and sees the box of macaroons. Zayne's sweet tooth kicked in and he grabbed one out of the box. He took a bite out of it but it tasted bland. Yes, it was sweet as he always likes but it doesn't taste the same. That's when he thought of you, when you two went to eat something after his dentist appointment. You being the tease and evil person you are, got yourself some macaroons and eat them slowly in front of him. It did bother him because he did want to eat one but the stupid cavity was killing him. That's when he grabbed your hand without even thinking and took a bite out of it. Your eyes went wide and felt his lips touch your thumb before he backed away and chewed. “It's good.” He says and you groan. “Your cavity! Listen to what the dentist said!” You say as you pull on his shirt. “Doctors lie.” He mumbles. You rolled your eyes and just laughed.

Zayne was brought back to his own reality, the box at front of him. He sighs and looks at his phone. Nothing from you yet. He quickly typed:

Thank you for the sweet treat, they were delicious.

He had expected you to see his text already but nothing. He sighs and leaves his house. At work he was staring at his phone any second he could. Nothing from you yet, which had him start to worry. You never do this, well, haven't done any of this before. If you were busy you'd always tell him beforehand. Now nothing, at all. He'd send a text here and there and maybe a call or two but nothing. At home, Layla talked about Sylus but in reality, he didn't pay much attention, he was so busy on his phone that he just couldn't.

Layla looks at Zyane and asks, “Is everything alright?” but he'd nod. Layla wasn't stupid, she's known him since they were kids. “Tell me.” She says, this time being in front of him. It almost felt like the right moment to speak since he's finally gotten her full attention now. His lips part and speak. “I am in love with you.” but when they slipped his lips, it felt wrong. Yes, it is wrong he basically confessed to a married woman but it was the fact his own feelings told him that it was wrong. That maybe he just wasn't in love with her anymore.

Layla's eyes were wide at his sudden confession. “Zayne…” she says and signs. “I'm married to Sylus. You already know.” She says and Zayne nods. “I…I know.” He says but it still felt wrong. Like as if those three words weren't meant for her but for you. “I Apologize, Layla. No. It is wrong of me I-” he groans and sighs. He finally speaks about you to Layla, how he feels around you, how he's felt, and what happened at the wedding. Which Layla listens to it all. “I see.” she nods. “Well, Sylus talked to me about her as well.” He quickly turned and raised a brow. “He is staying with her. I thought you knew.” She says but Zayne shook his head. She looked away and sighs. “Just take her out to this restaurant, yes?” She said as she looked it up on his phone. “It's really pretty there.” She smiles.

The next day came and Zayne couldn't stand it anymore. You completely ignored all his texts and calls and he's worried. He grabbed his keys after work and drove to your house. Zayne was met with Sylus at the door instead of you. “Where is she?” He asks, which sounds a bit demanding but he's desperate to see you. He hears footsteps and he sees you, finally again. You seemed fine, maybe a bit tired which he worried about but that didn't matter, he finally got to see you.

“Are You alright? You haven't answered any of my texts and I worried something might have happened.” was the first thing he said. He noticed your eyes move away from him. You were avoiding eye contact. “Sorry, I've kept my phone on to not disturb.” You admit. He nods and says, “I've been trying to contact you for the past almost four days, I was worried since you didn't answer my calls and texts.” You are a quick texter.

“I Apologize, Zayne. I'll check on my phone again.” You say and Zayne sighs. “Is something the matter?” He asks. You shook your head. “No. Just handling Sylus. I'm sure you're doing the same with Layla.” He looked away and nodded. You nod back and say, “I have to go back in. I need to help cook dinner.” Zayne looks at you. It seemed he didn't want you to leave but let's you, giving you a nod. “Alright, but please, just answer my texts or calls.” He pleaded before he excused himself and left. He sat down in his car and sighs, looking up. His phone vibrates and sees you replied to his other text where he had suggested a restaurant to eat at.

Hey Zayne, sorry again. And yes, I would like to go to the restaurant. Just tell me when and what time and I can see.

He was quick to reply, happy to see your text:

Is tomorrow night fine? I can pick you up.

Yes, that works.

The restaurant was nice, the lighting was great from where Zayne and you sat and had a great view outside the window. You two were at 5 stories high in a building. You two could see the lights from below. You had probably worn the wrong wear for winter but still went anyway. Zayne had taken notice of something, you didn't start a conversation. You always do. You always bring some little thing and it goes after that. He cleared his throat, making you look up at him. “Layla had recommended this place, it has a nice view too. I think I like it.” He says and you just nod. He didn't expect that reaction, he expected more like how you always do. “What do you think of the place?” He asks. Zayne was very nervous, very. He isn't used to you being so quiet. He honestly thinks you don't like the place.

“It is nice, it does have a nice view from here.” You say and your orders come. He thanked the waiter and looked at you. You didn't seem very enthusiastic today. What was wrong? Did he do something wrong? Is the restaurant not to your liking? But Layla said it was the best place. “I'll be back. I am going to use the restroom. You can start to eat without me.” You say, the chair screeching as you pushed yourself away and stood up. Zayne sighs and looks down at the food, his own appetite going away. What was wrong with you? Are you okay?

“Zayne?” He looked up and saw Layla. His eyes are wide and says, “what are you doing here?” she smiled and nervously looked away. “I came here to eat. With Sylus.” But didn't he say at least they needed a week apart? This is Layla, she never listens anyways. Layla then just starts to talk about the talk Sylus and her had.

You didn't want to be at the restaurant. Well, more like not be around Zayne. You still haven't gotten over everything. When he mentioned Layla you just nod, what do you say? He just keeps mentioning Layla while you two are eating, it's annoying.

When the food arrived, you excused Yourself and walked to the restroom. You looked at yourself in the Mirror And sigh. Why are you like this? Zayne genuinely wants to spend time with you again like last time. You smiled at that thought. You washed your hands and walked outside. As you walked out, you noticed Layla with Zayne. You saw the way Zayne’s eyes looked at her, the way his head tilted to the side slightly to listen to her speak. He hummed and nodded at the things she said to him. His expression looked like: yes, I am listening to you. But that look said more. Yes, keep talking to me. His eyes never leave her face as he smiles at her and nods. It almost felt like back in high school when a boy looked at a girl he liked and listened to everything she said and agreed with almost everything she said. You wanted to be her. You wish you were her. Why was she alway so lucky? Why couldn't it be you? Was this hatred? Was this jealousy? Which one is it because you yourself don't even know. Why did he even invite you anyways if he'd be talking to her and looking at her like a puppy dog does rather than to be looking at you. It was the exact same with Sylus. All the same the exact look and head tilt. And exactly the same right now, be in the background of them both. Why are you letting yourself repeat all of this over again? Why are you allowing this pain? Why can't you let go? Why are you allowing him to make you feel so confused? He's given you a sign that he does like you but does he love you? Just as much as you love him? Soon his eyes moved away from her and saw you, but it seemed he saw your own expression too. Pain. You just stood there as you stared right back at him. Maybe you weren't mad at Layla, it was Zayne you were mad at. As much as you didn't wish you could, you can't control how you feel. Why is he like this? He's giving you so many mixed signals that you finally snapped.

You quickly walked up to the table, grabbed your purse and walked away. You walked to the elevator and bit down on your lip as you held in the tears. You quickly walked out as it made its stop and opened the doors, wind swishing in your face, making you shiver. Winter snow and yet, you didn't bring a damn coat. You sigh but still walk out. You'll just have to endure it.

Zayne was quick, he excused himself, paid the bill and left. He rushed to the elevator and rushed out. The wind blew in his face once he opened the doors to leave. You were probably freezing too. He ran and he finally saw your silhouette. He ran and called your name, making you turn. You cried? “Zayne, don't run, the floor can be slippery!” You say as you walk up to him. But you suddenly stopped. Zayne reaches you, panting And looks at you. “You can't walk out here in the snow, it's cold.” He says as he holds your shoulder. You tried to push him away from your shoulder but he had a good grip on you. “Please, let me drive you back home.” He begged and took his coat off. He places it on your shoulders as he looks at you. He cupped your chin with his hand and lifted it up to see you had indeed cried. Why did you cry? What had he done wrong? “What did I do?” He asks. Zayne has to know immediately what it was that he did to make you cry. Your eyes looked away and he sighs. “Please tell me, what is it? I've never seen you cry and I never want to see you cry because of me. Please tell me what I've done wrong and never do again.”

Zayne pleaded, making your heart beat. Right now, probably wasn't the best time to react to how he pleaded. He's never been like this to you, so his pleading made your face Heat up. You wanted to stay mad at him. But how could you when he was practically begging for you to explain what he's done wrong so he never does again. This is why you love him. “I…” you stop. You were about to say you love him. Was now the right time? When will it ever be the right time? You want to tell him because you're scared that it will all happen again when it's too late for you to say how bad you fell in love with him. He was waiting, shivering while he still held his hands on your shoulder as he waited. You looked at him and suddenly got closer to him. Zayne looks down at you and gets closer too. Why are you two getting closer? What is going on? Zayne's hands creep to cup your head and he brings you closer, his lips brush against yours and stop, was he waiting for you to push him away? You quickly crushed your lips against his and wrapped your arms around him. You kissed him and felt his own lips move against yours, making your heart beat fast. You moved your hand to his face and rubbed your thumb against his cheek as you kissed him. You two pulled apart needing to breathe and you speak, “I love you Zayne.” You were nervous. “I fell in love with you, Zayne. I fell in love with you. I felt so hurt that you hugged Layla, that you talked to her, that you looked at her the way I wanted you to look at me.” You felt the tears come again. “I feel so hurt because it feels like it's all happening again where it's always me who falls in love, it's always one sided. That's why I left. That's why I cried.”

Zayne backed away to look at her, his hands never leaving her. He was guilty for making her feel this way. He never wanted to and never will again. “I'm sorry.” He apologized. “I am sorry for making you feel this way and for confusing you.” He says as his thumb rubbed your cheek, wiping away a tear. “I love you too, and I am sure of it.” He says. Your eyes went wide at his words and you were about to say something about Layla but he spoke first,

“I told Layla how I felt, I had to. I can't keep my feelings in.” He says. “It was obvious I'd be rejected but…it felt as if I let go of something heavy, it was reliving.” He says and you lean to his touch. “But it made me think that I really do not love her. I simply missed my friend.” He says. “Being around you made me forget, I want to apologize for everything making you feel this way.” You smiled and just waited for him to say the words, the words you've been wanting to hear again. “I love you.” He says and you brought him in for another kiss. You pulled away and said, “Let's go home. You're shivering, Zayne. It is cold.” but his lips kept kissing you. You smiled and said, “We can go to your place…?” He stopped and looked at you just to confirm if it was what you were actually thinking about and you just grinned. Zayne blushed and sighs. He fixed his glasses and cleared his throat. “Alright.” He said and you laughed. “You are so cute, Zayne.” You say. “Before we go, let's go for a walk. I still need to process everything you told me.” You say as you hold on to his coat and Zayne smiles as he sees your blush. “Alright.” He wrapped an arm around you to keep you warmer. “We could go to a shop some day to get you a coat.” He says. You lean on to him and nod. “That sounds nice.” You whispered and you two walked.

Zayne's hands never leave you as soon as you walk inside his house. You weren't even given time to slip out of your shoes. Zayne already had his lips on your neck, his hands holding your waist. You softly gasp and hold on to him. “I need to take my shoes off Zayne.” You whisper and he gently sucks on your neck. He kissed it and held your hand. “Okay.” He whispers and kisses your hand. He goes on his knees and holds your foot up. Slowly remove your shoes and kiss your thigh. He moved his other hand to remove the other one and kissed your other thigh. Your heart was beating like crazy and you couldn't resist anymore. He was just everything. You wanted him so badly.

Zayne smiles at you and says, “You wore a tight dress with tights on a cold day with no coat…” He moved his hands up your thighs as he never broke eye contact. “It looks perfect on you, just isn't perfect for winter. You'll catch a cold.” He says as he holds your inner thigh and squeezes it. You bite your lip and run your fingers through his hair. “I have a doctor to care for me if I do get sick.” You say and he chuckles. “I suppose you are right.” He kissed your inner thigh and his hands went higher and higher, making you pant and feel anxious at his touch. He looks up at you asking for permission. You nod and feel his hands go under your dress, gently pulling down the black tights. He raised your dress a bit and could see the wet spot. You anxiously bite down on your thumb as you look down at him and he smiles. He rubbed his thumb on the wet spot, making you jump.

Zayne slowly moved his thumb up and gently rubbed on your clit, making you shiver. He was staring at you still, seeing every reaction and movement you made, his eyes never leaving you. You lean against the cold wall as his thumb rubbed gently. His other fingers moved to the side of the panties and moved them aside. He took off your tights and panties fully and got between your legs, looking up at you. His hands slowly brushed up and down your thighs, his face getting closer and closer to your core. His thumb brushes up and down between your folds. Zayne groans at your soft whimper. He opens your folds with his fingers. You gasp as you feel his tongue brush in your folds, Zayne needing a taste, he was hungry and desperate. He looks up at you and his tongue goes to your clit, attacking it and sucking on it, almost as if he was a starving man. You moan and hold on to his hair. You could hear the slips, groans and moans that would come from Zayne. You were getting closer and closer, you needed more. You started to ride his face, his nose brushing against your clit as he ate you. His eyes cut tightly close, the grip he had on your thighs tight. His hands move to your ass, pushing you closer to him. His other hand was already unbuckling his belt and pants. The tent in his pants was so painful. He sucked your clit and you see stars. You moaned his name as you arched your back, riding his face though your orgasam. Zayne groans and pulls away to gasp. He looks at you, sweating and panting after the orgasam.

God, you look so beautiful right now. He needed you. He quickly gets up and brings you in for a kiss. You could taste yourself on him as you shared the kiss, your hands quickly wrapping around him. His hands went to your waist and he pulled away panting. “I need you.” He says and lifts you up, making you yelp. You were gently placed on the bed and you looked at him. He unbutton his shirt and your eyes go wide. What a view. He looks at you and grins. You grabbed his arm and pulled him to you, moving your hands to his abs and smiled. “Wow doctor.” You giggled and he chuckled. Your hands slowly moved up to his chest, making him gasp and groan. You could see how red he was. It went all the way to his ears. You kissed his cheek and whispered, “I can't anymore Zayne, I need you.” sending shivers and making his cock twitch in his boxers. Your hands run up and down slowly on his sides. Zayne's eyes moved down to your chest. He can no longer look away. You're looking right at him too, no? Then he has every right to look as well.

His cold hands slowly moved to the strings for your dress and he pulled them down. Zayne looked at you and you were staring right back at him, your top teeth biting down on your lip and your chest rising up and down. Your hard nipples could feel the fabric slowly get pulled down and finally, they were out. You looked at him and waited for his next words. But it is more of an action guy. He moved his hand to your chest and cupped one. He goes to your other breast and kisses the nipple, making you whine and bring your chest closer to his face. He opened his mouth and gently sucked on the hard nipple that was eager for his attention. His tongue swirls around in circles, making you moan and run your fingers through his black hair. You moaned his name and he looked back at you.

His cock was already out, his boxer gods knew where. Zayne pulls away with a ‘pop’ and goes to suck the other one. He wanted to make you feel good, make up for the time he made you feel hurt, feel betrayed by him. He always wanted to do this to you, make you moan and make you feel good. He's had dreams about it. That night he made that little snow kitty, he had a wet dream about you, moaning his name and begging for him. He woke up to his boxer wet and had to hand wash that. Which was embarrassing really. And since then he's thought of you and had more dreams of you. So having you here right now, made him so happy and especially turned on. Zayne moved his hand down to your thighs and gently rubbed your clit. He opens your wet folds and moans on your breast. He grabbed his cock with his other hand and rubbed the tip of his cock between your wet folds, his tip more wet with your folds. You squirm under him, moving your hips to feel more.

Zayne couldn't hold it any longer and looked in his nightstand. A box of condoms. He quickly opened it and gently put one on. You looked at him and tilted your head. He grabbed a pillow and laid it under you. “For better support.” He says. You smiled and nodded. Zayne brings you in for another kiss and gently pushes Himself in you, making you two gasp. You felt so warm and tight around his cock. He opened his eyes and saw how your eyebrows arched, your teeth biting at the bottom of your lip and your chest rising and filling. He kissed your cheek and whispered, “You are so beautiful.” before he thrust, making you moan. His hands moved to your hips for better support and moved his own hips away from yours and thrusted in once again. His pace was slow, making you whimper and moan. You needed more, you needed more of him. “Zayne, please.” You pleaded, his cock twitching inside of you. His thrusts become faster this time, making you hold on to him. “Z-Zayne! Ah! So-so good!” You moaned, making him groan at how you felt and sounded.

He pressed his chest against yours and brought you in for a kiss. The kiss was sloppy, the pleasure in your body making it impossible to give him a proper kiss. He Slips his tongue in you, his tongue exploring your mouth. Your eyes rolled back for a second, your breath becoming heavy and louder, your back arching and sweaty everywhere. You were close again. So close. But he stopped. You whimper and look at him, your expression showing why he even stopped. “Not yet.” He pants out and suddenly you're flipped. You're on top of him, his cock was pressed against your ass. He was smiling up at you. What an amazing view it was to him. To see you on top of him, panting and looking down at him. His hands grab the dress and pull it off of you. It got in the way anyways. Zayne grabbed his cock and taped it on your ass. You grinned down at him and said, “You're an impatient doctor. I thought you were supposed to be.” You say as you rise yourself up. “How can I?” Zayne says and pressed the tip of his cock to your cunt and you lower yourself. He groans at the once again warm sensation on his cock. Oh how he wished he could feel you without the stupid condom.

You pressed your hands down on his chest and started to move, back and forth. Your poor clit rubbing against his lower stomach, getting it wet. Zayne holds on to your hips and thrust in you, making you scream. He lifts his hips up and fucks himself in to you while he sucked on one of your nipples. You grabbed on to the head of the bed as he fucked himself in to you. “Ah- I love you.” He suddenly groans out, making your pussy clench. He bites down on your nipple. You could hear his pants getting heavy and louder. His thrust became more sloppy. You moaned, “I L-love y-you- ah!” Your eyes rolled back, throwing your head back as you came in his cock, making Zayne groan and hold tightly onto you as he cums as well, filling the rubber up with his hot cum.

You two pant, trying to catch each other's breath, your sweat mixed with his, the room feeling warm and the lingering smell of sex filling it. Zayne gently lays you down in the bed, took off the condom, wrapped it up and threw it away. He grabbed a towel and handed it to you. “Here, wipe off the sweat. I'll prepare a bath for us.” He said and placed a kiss on your cheek. You smiled at him and kissed him back before he could leave. You gently wiped off the sweat on you and stared up at the ceiling as all you can remember what had happened. You smile to yourself and think, today everything went well. He loves you, he really does and he proved it to you today.

Zayne gently moved his hands up and down your side as he kissed your neck. You relaxed on to him, the warm water and cent of lavender in the bath making you feel relaxed. You talked to him about Sylus and how he had stayed at your place to explain why Sylus had even opened the door. You also told him that you too confessed to him but you didn't want to hear Sylus opinion, it was something you just wanted to get off your chest. Zayne listened to everything you told him as he continued to kiss your neck.

“Will you stop? Don't your lips feel sore already?” You smiled and Zayne Chuckles. “They are sore.” He placed one last kiss on your cheek. “How do you feel?” He asks. “Amazing.” You smiled. Zayne shook his head and said, “No, in general. Do you feel hurt? Sore?” ah, the doctor instincts. But it did feed his pride a bit when you said that. “I'm alright, Zayne.” You reassured him. As Zayne watched you close your eyes and relax on him, he thought for a second that maybe, he just wants to marry you right now. His hands slowly move to your breast and he cups them. “Hey!” you say and he just chuckles. He closed his eyes and imagined you in your beautiful wedding dress, your beautifully made hair, and your long veil. You two slowly danced together as you looked up at him and smiled, maybe even cry, well, it would be him crying at how beautiful you would look.

Zayne just wished that the day would come when everything was ready just for him to ask.

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Tags:

@nm4565natty @animegamerfox @crimsonrubie

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I am so sorry it took me a good while to post. As you saw in the top im not sure if I'd write something small but who knows? Thank yoh everyone for reading i love you all <3

#x reader #smut #love and deepspace #lads x reader #lads zayne #lads #x non mc #lads x non mc reader #zayne x non mc #zayne smut #zayne fic #zayne x reader #zayne #zayne love and deepspace

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cavegirlpoems · 20 hours ago

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OK so, here's the thing. I don't believe that, in the example you've described, there's a meaningful difference between these two situations:

The player isn't sure if there's a village nearby, but the GM has it written in their notes. The GM looks it up, and describes what they previously decided to put there to the players.

The player isn't sure if there's a village nearby, and neither is the GM. The GM comes to a decision, and relays what they just invented to the players.

Assuming that in both cases, there hadn't previously been any mention of the village during the shared act of play, then the end result is the same: the player pokes at an element of the setting, and is informed about what the GM decided for it. When that decision was made - right now, or in last night's prep - doesn't matter. What matters is when it's spoken into reality in front of the other players.

So. What actually matters is when the element of 'the village' is added to the shared imagined space. Did this happen earlier in the session, when the GM said "and just outside the dungeon you're going to, there's this village..." or did it happen just now, when the player said "so I want to send the goblin to attack a nearby village"? It's a question of how much information the players have been given during the act of playing the game.

Like, okay, let's take a counter-example. The GM had prepped a map of the surrounding countryside, and it didn't have a village in it. But, when the player wants to have their new goblin go there, and the GM thinks that's actually a fun idea, so they go back and retroactively add a new village to their map. Again, the presence or absence of that village remained undetermined until it got made real in play. And, because 'there is a village' is now real in the game, we can see that the prep saying there wasn't is superceded effortlessly by actual gameplay.

The electron is passing through both slots, until you observe it, and then the wave function collapses and its position is defined. The village both exists and doesn't exist until it's spoken into existance and the wave-function collapses and its position is defined.

Now, there are practical reasons why you might want to prep things ahead of time. It helps you be consistent, it lets you balance fair challenges more easily, it reduces cognitive load in play. Sure. That activity is a tool; it's a supplement to the act of play to make the act of play go better. There are practical reasons to prefer a low-or-no-prep game too.

The work of a really well-prepared GM who's really good at running a pre-planned game will be largely indistinguishable from the work of a really good 0-prep GM who has instead learned to build the game on the fly.

Realistically, there are practical benefits to high prep and low prep games. However, the accepted default is an extremely high-prep approach, and that high-prep approach often leads to negative outcomes (see the infamous 'It's What My Character Would Do' situation where a player's pre-written image of who their PC is means they feel forced to take undesirable in-game actions, because the paratext of prep-work is being allowed to overtake the text of gameplay). That's what I'm pushing back against, right?

I'm taking a deliberately extreme, even hyperbolic, position for the sake of argument here. I'm advocating for 0 prep games not because I think all games must be 0 prep at all times, but because I want to normalise 0 prep games, and know that they can be good, functional games. Perhaps I overstated my case because I prefer to make the most hard-line version of an argument and see how it shakes out. A more measured way of phrasing it would be: You don't need to do any homework, ever. Like you can, if you want to, if you find it rewarding. But it's not something you must do, it's something you can choose to do depending on taste.

Like I've shown up to the game club, gone 'what do we want to play tonight', and then FKR'd my way through an improvised plot, and it *works*. No part of the game existed until Alex said "I wanna play a bank robbery", and off we went. Zero prep, not even reading a rulebook. Not even *having* a rulebook.

I like writing short fiction about what my PCs get up to off-screen. It's a fun writing exercise that helps me get in the character's head. And it's, effectively, homework. But that writing isn't necessary for the game to function. When I run games, I often enjoy drawing maps and organisation charts and timelines, because thinking about the game when I'm not currently playing it is fun. But that's not necessary for me to run the game, even if sometimes it conveniently helps.

Like, the thing is, my point is kind of the opposite of 'it's all just made up, who cares'. It's not all just equally made up; there are different types of made up, with meaningful distinctions between them. That's what I'm interested in dissecting, right? The way different levels of engagement in this fiction intersect, and which takes priority over which. Like any media analysis, you apply different frameworks and get different results, and currently I'm leaning hard into "what happens in game sessions takes priority over everything else" as a way of thinking about them. This isn't a value judgement about how you should run games, its an analitical framework you can use to understand games. Right?

writing intricate backstories is the playerside equivallent of the gm prep burden

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midnight1nk · 2 days ago

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So, this week's episode...

[spoilers below cut]

Man I tell you, another heavy day in my production job. And on top of that, pollen season. There goes my allergies smh. Well, at least I get bit of a break, have some food with me, and I can finally watch today's episode. Let's see what we got! *sees thumbnail* 😶 .....I haven't even pressed on the video and my theorist senses are tingling already

"wait what?"

Alright, so I'm going to need you to follow along with me here, cool? Now, doesn't 4's pose seem familiar to you? Well, it should because that's exactly the same pose as the ringmaster 4 render from the early version of the WOTFI website. We all know it was really Mr Puzzles behind it all.

And now look at the ads! It certainly feels very similar to what happened in the "Mario PC Virus" episode, and y'know how I already pointed out how it could connect to the goop!4 theory. BUT y'know what other video had ads?

That's suspicious. That's sus. 💅 /ref

"Don't you think it's Ben trolling again? Or just taking creative liberties?"

No bc the thing is, it's the thumbnail and it's the Team who gave him the prompt in the first place. Ofc Ben can take creative liberties, but essentially it has to follow the prompt. How have I not started the episode yet?! *turns to the Team* I'm watching you.... /silly

(the following is my live reaction:)

and there's our beloved intro *claps like an excited lil kid*

A convention? oooooh

LOOK AT THEM AAAAA

ofc 3 talking about his villain self 😌↕️

Clench being a VTuber was not on my bingo card but honestly, good for him (and I do love Tari sticking out from the table hehe)

and MELONY! you got what Axol's been working on, Two Piece. Gotta love the continuity, dude. The cover looks great!

Melony: "At least, I hope so..." 🥺 Oh honey, Axol would've been so proud of you and what you've done. I can already imagine him singing praises to it and say "look at what my girlfriend and I have done! :D"

YES, let's spread the word!! ofc Mario and 4 would help, they care so much about their friends

ngl Mario's got a good tactic.

and there goes 3's eye lol (don't think about goop!4 don't think about goop!4 don't think about goop!4)

*wii sports theme plays*

YES YES YES oh I'm so here for it

look at them go :D

nahnahnah, Team. You think you can do a speed-up moment and for me not to pause it frame by frame? smh /silly

luckily for the rest of yall, I got you:

and yes, it did have some repeats that I think they're very interesting: "turns you muscular SUPER chad", "makes you rich", "become SWAG", "get your a bunch of friends", "become a member of society", "become a SIGMA", get a romantic partner ("girlfriend" (the one with Mario) or "boyfriend", "you WON'T NEED SLEEP", "become AWESOME"/"RESPECTED"

Ofc it could just be how much 4 wants to emphasize the benefits of getting the manga. But it certainly feels strange, doesn't it? *writing notes down like a madman*

also a win for the skittle squad

and ay, it's got 4's stamp of approval!! (curious that the Team used the old model instead of current one 🤔)

hehe look at 4 pouting while he sits 💙

SMG4: "This is how it works!" 4, bud, are you ok?

ok first off, WE GOT THE OG 4 MODEL BACK?! WHAT? and two, Mario has a point. 4 is taking things too far and really needs a wake-up call. I have a feeling as to why 4 may be acting this way....

oh. oh okay.

So they decided to bring parallels to show how much 4 and Mario's fighting is affecting her/reminding her of her family separating. Hmm. Alright, Team, which one of you decided to strike that dagger into my heart? 😭 /lh

And Mario walked away just like Melony's mom did *head in hands*

and that's 4 alright. He would say that "everything's fine" when it's clearly not smh

4, buddy no :(

SMG3: "The real villain is society..." Well you ain't wrong, 3

Wait a second. Enhance..... enhance.....

I see what you did there, Shadow 😔↕️

love that Toad's like right here too

OMG was that 4's "date" from the "Find Luigi" episode? IT IS.

I'm tell yall, 4 has a secret art account and is selling his work as merch/prints. I mean, c'mon

NO 4, people were waiting for Silksong for decades naurrrr

oh Melony, my girl :(

*pauses episode* ........they did not just do that. I'm rewinding that moment 2/3 times now, what do you mean I was right about my suspicions? WHAT DO YOU MEAN THEY JUST BROUGHT BACK IGBP?!

I need to walk away. I need to leave the room, do a cartwheel and dive into a lake, bc HUH?!

okok, let's breathe. goop!4 is gonna happen, and this is not just a "haha Ink is a crazy lil theorist wishing for this to happen". The fact that he said "nowadays" means that the situation is affecting him too. Ofc it would, that's his livelihood, his WHOLE PURPOSE as a meme guardian. But, other than that, it makes sense why he's doing this (I'll talk about it soon)

Mario: "SMG4, you're better than this! You've done enough damage." 😨 holy shit. it's like I got shot through the heart WTF. I might just cry in this episode

who keeps punching me in the FEELSSSSS 😭 poor Melony, those guys were absolute jerks smh (desperate times do call for desperate measures *ready to make swiss cheese*)

*head in hands* :(

at least they can apologise

*points at screen* hehe that's me :) I'm just a reporter

did I hear the peanut gallery audio from ace attorney? 👀 (<- ace attorney fan, don't mind Ink)

The Crew came? 🥹

EVEN SHROOMY?

OUGH that got to me, dude. They all came to support her and enjoyed the manga. I'm tearing up, dude.....

what did I say? Melony may have not had both parents as they were separating, lost Axol to the events of the Genesis/Revelations arc, was betrayed by who she thought was a friend who understood her, and despite it all, she's been so strong. Having friends, her found family...

man, this hit me hard and it's not even from the allergies, I tell you that

the truest supporters are the ones who care

this episode wants me dead /very pos

what's the lesson, Mario?

SMG4: "Is that we shouldn't care so much about fame and profit and instead be proud of our friend's work? No matter how successful it is?" yeah pretty much... "No"? wydm "no"?

....nahnahnah, you can't end the episode there, what the hell do you mean by that?

You can't close it off like that! What about my suspicions!? You can't just move on like that in front of my theorist self, c'mon!!

sitcom laugh track and everything, smh /silly

Congrats to SteveAlexAri12 for your art being featured in the end credits for this episode 🎉 cool art of WPNZ

um. Team, any particular why? just asking /j

.・-: ✧ :--: ✧ :-・.

Wow, this. This was absolutely fantastic omg. The writing in this was so good and I loved the tidbits of animation we got, like when Mario and 4 were picking up the pages to clean! This was somehow brilliant, and this is coming from a long-time viewer.

It' crazy's awesome that they brought Wolfychu back to do some lines this episode, and I was right about the Waggy cameo from Shadow (YES!). Also, EVAN! You make the cover of the manga? It looks SO GOOD, dude!! As always, great work with the writing on your end 👏

I've already mentioned Melony but we have to talk about the boys. Both Mario and 4 had good intentions to help their friend out. "I would do anything to not lose my friends" and that's exactly what 4 did. The algorithm has been affecting him so much that he didn't want Melony to go through it either. So, he went overboard with the crazy advertising and such, but he still cared for his friend. And a touch of self-doubt and insecurity from IGBP is back because he thought he wasn't doing enough. What good of a friend is he if he can't help out? The savior complex in him would say that he isn't good enough to help Melony, to "save" her from the low viewer retention. That he isn't enough, so he went desperate to have anyone take a copy of the manga. This isn't just about selling a book, it's that he's worth the friendships he has and they can always come to him if they need anything.

He doesn't want to lose them.

Ofc Mario cares so much about 4, they've known each other for years. Best of friends. If anything, Mario would know everything's not fine with 4's actions and thoughts in general. It's why the line, "SMG4, you're better than this! You've done enough damage" from Mario to 4 hits so hard. 4 was back to the "None of you understand the work I do" moment from Mar10, relapsing, and Mario needed to remind 4 of his true self, the one that cared for his friends without perfections. That instead of helping as 4 sees it, 4 was hurting Melony unintentionally, and he has to open his eyes to see that. Two sides, indeed.

Curious that the episode ended with the not "go cuckoo crazy" lesson instead of what 4 said. Goop!4 would eventually happen, bc at this point, yes. But what Mario said is exactly what 4's mindset is rn. 4 is bottling up his emotions and trauma and as long as he doesn't think about it for too long, everything's fine. As long as he doesn't reach that breakpoint, he's fine. In some way, he learned his lesson after IGBP but not quite. For one, he still doubts himself with the guilt of IGBP on top of it. And two, nothing is letting him move on from his trauma. His in-universe audience isn't letting him, Puzzles during WOTFI wasn't letting him, the memories he's been suppressing wasn't enough.

Why does he go through the extreme? Bc he thinks that it would solve everything for him. Like how he locked Puzzles in prison, thinking that Puzzles would remain there when we all know a prison escape is bound to happen. Like the Meme Factory itself was an elaborate trap. Whatever it takes to protect himself emotionally, as he's under the line from having a meltdown, he's fine. But what is that line? What is his breaking point? The thing is he wouldn't known, as shown in this episode, thinking he would still fix it. Everything's fine, he's fine.

And y'know what the cherry on top is? That, other than 4 and Mario enjoying the manga, Boopkins and Luigi were the first to be interested in Melony's creation, regardless of popularity. Very representative of Kevin irl and the deeper significance of IGBP.

....whoops sorry, I went on rambling for too long. I mean, c'mon, you should know the drill by now *points at bio*. If anything, this episode is the biggest piece of evidence for the goop!4 theory, I'm sure our local co-CEO of the theory Funkii (hey moot!) and other goop!4 enthusiasts would agree, YESSIR. Overall, this was such a sweet episode and I can't wait for more. That's all from me, and remember: numbers always go first!

*taps mic* ...well chat, how do we feel knowing that the star trio all canonically wore maid outfits? (well technically Madoka outfits from 4 & Mario but still)

#smg4 #smg4 spoilers #smg4 mario #smg4 melony #ink reviews #WE ARE SO BACKKKK #oh I'm having a FIELD DAY with this one :)#also ben. I gotta ask: what was the prompt for the thumbnail? y'know just asking and totally not bc of theory reasons :3

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