#at least the clock isn't broken

[katy-books]

Just unscrewed this clock to get a worm out of it. How's your Sunday going?

[chaoticwriting]

Part 2

GOTHAM'S NEW ROGUE 3

-An hour before-

Danny is hatching a new plan today. Usually, he goes after the rogues who decide to make a spectacle or show for the public. But today, he will be the one to make it.

As all the devices are put together, Danny readies himself to turn on the screen. Lightly slapping his cheeks a few times Danny brace himself for his first solo stream.

*Live On*

Trickster: Well hello everyone! Isn't today unusually too peaceful. With all the rogues in Arkham and no one for me to bother, I decided to do the most out of my time.

Danny walks to a big hulking machine under wraps by a big piece of cloth. Danny pulls the cloth revealing a big machinery that has a giant clock in the middle.

Trickster: Over here I have my latest invention. I realized that people in this city really love coffee so what I do is make a machine that will spread gasses of caffeine into the air for people to consume via breathing. I even make sure that the special caffeine concoction wouldn't affect children because if I know one thing, it is that children with caffeine are scarier than any rogue.

Danny walks to the panel with a comically large red button with the word 'start' on it right under the clock.

Trickster: Now, when I click this button, it will turn on the timer, which is 30 minutes by the way, and when it runs out, the machine will release the caffeine into the air making everyone unable to sleep for one whole day. What is the effect on the city you may ask? I honestly don't know. But it will be funny if tomorrow everyone just drops dead asleep on the ground at work tomorrow.

Danny suddenly stops talking and slams the button heavily.

Trickster: Anyway, the timer starts now. Come find me if you wanna stop it.

Danny then leaves the screen and lets the camera focus on the clock as it ticks down. Danny sits on a nearby table and continues tinkering with his new special glitter bomb.

It's been 30 minutes when suddenly a window is broken and comes in Batman in all his glory. Except what Batman sees isn't the machine or even Trickster. It is a maze full of what he deems as traps laying around. Batman carefully trudges through the maze as he skillfully disarms the traps that are laid on the ground.

It takes Batman a whole 25 minutes to finally pass the maze before he finally sees the machine without Trickster anywhere in sight. He slowly and vigilantly approaches the machine and sees a small blue button with the word 'stop' right beside the red button.

If Batman had more time, he wouldn't have done anything rash but right now he doesn't have the time nor the ability to safely disarm the machine without making any mistake.

He pushes the button and the clock stops right then and there. He stares at his surrounding vigilantly expecting an ambush. And he is not wrong. There is indeed an ambush. Just not a normal ambush.

The machine that has stopped moving suddenly begins to shake heavily and Batman immediately jumps back to distance himself from whatever the machine is about to do.

Except when he lands, an ice forms under his legs trapping him and he tries to break the ice but the ice is very hard and impossible for him to break immediately at least. He is going to request for backups when the machine turns into tiny robots that start to surround him. He tries to smash all of them but not only are they strong and durable, EMP bombs also don't work on them.

After struggling for a while, some of the robots finally climb their way onto his head. One of them hangs from his mask and releases a gas from its mouth. Batman starts to lose consciousness and just as he is about to pass out Trickster appears in front of him.

Danny looks at Batman and orders his robots to tie him upside down, while rummages through his belt. Danny pulls out a lot of things from smoke bomb that accidentally explodes when Danny throws them to a bat shark repellent? What the hell? Anyway, after going through his belt for a while he finally found his target.

The Batwallet.

Danny turns to the hidden camera and starts to monologue.

Trickster: Hello hello everyone. Today, we have a very special guest. Presenting to you an unconscious Batman! And right here I have the strongest weapon in the world. The Batwallet! Hahahahaha.

Trickster: Now, you might be thinking. What is so strong about the wallet? And that my dear friend is the reason I am here today. Let's take a look at what's inside shall we.

Danny pulls out a black card with a bat symbol in the middle of it. Showing it to the camera, Danny gives out the biggest smile he can (somehow).

Trickster: This is the Bat credit card. I know. Sounds stupid. But you know what isn't stupid. The limit on this card. There is no limit. That means I can buy whatever I want with this.

Danny then pulls out a few polaroid pictures from the wallet that catches his attention.

Trickster: What's this? The bats secret identity? Boring. Why would I need to know who they are? Wait. This one is funny. Is this little Nightwing? Hahahaha. He's so little. *Gasp* Little Red Hood. Aww schmuck. I wanna share this with someone. I'm keeping this. I'm sure Batman has backup of these pictures.

Danny then phases the card and the photos into his body and picks up the camera.

Trickster: All right. That's it for today's stream. Oh yeah. We are in the warehouse south of the Bowery. I will shoot a flare after this for you to come get Batman. Well, you better come fast or other people will come for him.

After that the stream is cut off and a flare is shot from one of the warehouses in the Bowery. When the Bats arrived, all that was left was an unconscious Batman, tied up from the ceiling with his belt on the ground.

While the bats are busy extracting Batman back to the cave, Danny is having a feast at the Batburger. On his table, there are 50 sets of burgers, fries and cokes (the soda). Along with his food, he has pretty much paid all the food for everyone inside the Batburger. People were pretty on the fence when he first entered, but Gothamite being Gothamite, they readily accepted him when he paid for their food.

While Danny is busy eating, a big buff guy in a suit approaches him with his own food.

???: Good evening, Mr. Trickster. May I eat with you?

Part 4

[harumwahsa]

── .✦ Harumasa makes a little wish after waking up from a nightmare.

WARNING(S): Brief mentions of blood, IV lines, and syringes.

NOTE: I just want to give him the tightest hug. 😞 Anyway, YAYY 1.4 is here!

White crows. Bustling city streets. Murmuring crowd. Flashing cameras. Accusing fingers pointing right at him.

Why is he here again?

Wake up. He needs to wake upーalas, misfortune has always been rather fond of him. No matter how much his mind screams, his body just refuses to listen. Imprisoned in a nightmare, all he can do is run in circles, a promise of escape nowhere within his reach.

The weight of his choker feels heavier than it should, and yet, he still thinks it should be wrapped around him tighter. Is he still human? With trembling hands, he holds his neck. His fingertips are cold. His body is cold. Are humans supposed to be so cold?

People are closing in, adamant about their accusations. A white flash blinds his eyes.

Wake up, wake up, wake upー

Syringes scattered all over the floor. Beeping machines. IV lines twist and tangle.

When will this end?

A room of broken mirrors. Ethereals reflected in the shards. A man in white coat. A child screaming. Blood on the walls. Blood on the floors. Blood on his handsー

"Haaー"

Finally.

His breath is heavy as he stares at the ceiling, eyes wide as if he were never asleep in the first place. Deep breath. In and out, in and out. He closes his eyes and tries to imagine other things. Something happier. Or something... less bitter, at least. But all he can see is himself; cursed and broken and everything he wishes he is not. Thus, he opens his eyes again, not wanting to see such a miserable view.

Another restless night for him, it seems.

As an attempt to cast his thoughts aside, he turns his attention to you.

...

You are snuggled up to him, seemingly all too comfortable and in bliss. Adorable. But isn't this when you should be awake and give him comfort? How could you be dead asleep whilst he was terrorised by his nightmares? How utterly unbelievable. Should he be offended? He should be offended, right? Instead, he scoffs in amusement. It would be nice to have you comforting him right now, but then again, he would not have known how to respond to such warmth.

He much rather you stay asleep anyway. Ignorance is bliss, no? He doesn't want to burden you. Plus, the fact that you feel safe enough in his presence to sleep so soundly puts him at ease. Seeing you like this alone is a form of reassurance. He knows he is still human when you are by his side.

He shifts slightly, bringing you closer to him, carefully so.

Harumasa is still getting used to these physical touches. More often than not, the hugs he shared with you were short, and so, too, your kisses. They rarely ever lasted longer than needed to be. He would joke and say that he has a clock-out countdown for his display of affection, when deep down he was struggling with his own fears. "If you want another kiss, then you'll have to wait after dinner," he would tease, even though all he wanted was to pull you back in. He wonders if you ever realized how much he actually longs for you.

Brushing his hand against yours when you walk next to each other. Lingering touches after messing up your hair. Glancing at you from across the room. Squeezing you in his arms before pulling away from a hug. Have you ever noticed?

Regardless, even the strongest man has moments of weakness. No matter how good he may be at concealing his true feelings, there were times when his vulnerability seeped through the firm walls he has built around him. There was a time he held your hands so tight, his lips chasing after yours, one kiss after another. There was a time he told you to stay and keep him warm, snarky tone out the window.

And now is another moment of vulnerability. Is he a child, needing comfort after a nightmare he has grown so accustomed to? No. He is very much a mature adult, so used to bitterness; pills and life and everything in between. The debate goes on in his mind, but it doesn't stop him from holding you tighter. It doesn't stop him from wishing that you would stay by his side... no matter what the future holds.

Is that a childish wish? Is that too much to ask for? Still, he yearns for itーthe little bit of sweetness in his bitter, bitter life.

Credit(s): Divider

[wttcsms]

if you feel like falling (catch me on the way down) | ONE

ᝰ.ᐟ after getting your heart broken by professional soccer player, rin itoshi, all because he loved the game more than you, you officially swear off all men — especially athletes. your publicist doesn't get that memo, though, and you find yourself roped into a fake relationship with yoichi isagi, who isn't just a pro soccer player, but also your ex's rival. things could get messy. ( fem!reader )

pairing yoichi isagi x reader (endgame), past! rin itoshi x reader word count 2.9k chapter synopsis there are certain perks to having a relationship that operates on a "private not secret" basis. for example, you're allowed at least two weeks before the batshit crazy people online figure out that little miss it girl just got her ass dumped. chapter contains partying to cope, social drinking, diet culture, this fic is so chronically online LOL author's notes so normally, i would organize the fic's different arcs or acts by explicitly saying "act 1" or whatever. like i said, we're gonna be chronically online, so the arcs are described as different "eras" and when it's a new arc, we'll get a new era 🤭 each era has special graphics for it: what the media sees vs what's actually going on. think of the era intro as a moodboard for the chapters that'll follow <3

⋆˚࿔ CURRENT ERA: PARTY GIRL 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ from the outside, it's giving irl serena van der woodsen but even better, no one can possibly have the same 24 hours as you, someone needs to convince you to drop the skincare routine STAT, matter of fact - we just need your whole game card

— guest starred on the hottest pop culture podcast where it was basically just a glaze session for you (besides the last 10 minutes where the host started asking about rin), articles that want to help readers live your (unattainable if you're not rich!) lifestyle, and a devoted fanpage that updates your every move... every move.

on the inside, it's actually giving listening and actually relating to sad music, asking an 8 ball if you're the problem, being desperate enough to believe those tiktoks that say if you claim this sound and interact 3x he'll text you back, wondering when you should mail him back his stuff, keeping busy in the public eye so no one suspects how miserable you are right now

— even spotify clocked you and it's auto-generated, customized playlist perfectly depicts what you're going through (talk about the saddest soundtrack to your life), got desperate and consulted quora (this is how you know you're at rockbottom). not shown: your credit card statement (retail therapy works, right? right?!)

“Promise you’ll be on your best behavior?” Yukimiya peers over his sunglasses so he can give you a very pointed look. You tilt your head innocently.

“When am I ever not?” 

Yukimiya lets out a very loud, very drawn out, very exasperated sigh. When have you not been on your best behavior? Well, just last month, you got drunk, stumbled out to your garage, hopped in your custom-wrapped pink Porsche, and somehow ended up falling asleep on top of the hood. (In your defense, at least even in a drunken stupor, you weren’t stupid enough to drive.) Last week, you collected the numbers of about eight different athletes and models, sufficiently led every single one of them on, and are now actively ghosting all of them because they committed the cardinal sin of not sounding like, feeling like, or being anything like Rin. And speaking of the devil, Rin’s the reason why just last night, you ended up blocking not just him from your social media, but his whole entire team, too. You felt vindicated when you did this at 2 AM. Yeah, because that’ll sure show him! He hasn’t looked at your story once since the breakup (not that you’ve been keeping track or anything), but in case he tries to play it cool and gets one of his teammates to view it on his behalf, you’ll have put a stop to that plan. 

(Even when you’re spiraling, you’re still painfully aware of the fact that Rin’s most likely doing okay, if not still performing at his best. He is most certainly not doing something as childish as getting his teammates to relay info on you to him. Meanwhile, you are apparently a social liability for your closest friends. Spectacular.) 

“Don’t answer that.” You tell him. “I don’t want to know what my life looks like through your eyes.” It’s bad enough that every little thing you do gets documented, photographed, and then sensationalized on the Internet, but it’s one thing for strangers to commentate on your behavior when they don’t even have the full story. It’s another thing entirely when it’s your best friend criticizing your current lifestyle. 

“I’m just saying, it’s going to be a very casual lunch with my favorite people. Not a party.” Yukimiya clarifies. 

“Kenyu, you do realize that inviting me to a birthday party, and then saying ‘it’s not a party’ is kind of giving mixed signals right now.” Now it’s your turn to give him a pointed look, but just like his, there’s no true venom behind it. It’s Kenyu’s birthday celebration, anyway. You’re not about to corrupt Mr. Catholic Private School and tell him to throw a fucking rager. 

“If my team gets their way, there probably will be an actual party. If there is, you’ll be the first one I give the details to.” There’s a distant shout in the back; the photographer is done with his lunch, and he’s ready to wrap this shoot up. Kenyu examines his hair in the vanity mirror before getting out of his chair and giving you a quick hug. Your photos have already been taken, and there’s really no point for you to be on set still. 

However, Kenyu’s on set. Your only other viable option is to just go home and hide under your covers, rewatching Someone Great on Netflix and Doordashing Ben & Jerry’s. Juliette is home in France and won’t be coming back until the end of the month, and you’re not really in the mood to see any of your other friends. It’s tiring being around people who can’t separate front-cover-of-Vogue you from the real you. If you’re going to have to fake a smile, it might as well be on set rather than grabbing brunch with people who would kill to be able to leak something as headline-inducing as your breakup. 

“Pinky promise?” You look up at Yukimiya. “You promise to tell me about the party even if I’ll make a fool of myself because apparently I don’t act on my best behavior?” 

He rolls his eyes at your comment. “I didn’t mean it in a bad way, and you know that. Besides, you could never make a fool of yourself. Anything you do is declared iconic, anyway.”

Having a famous movie director as a father and a certified Hollywood starlet as a mother, life wasn’t just set at easy mode for you. You practically were given an unlimited money hack and started off with like, five times the XP compared to any other beginner. At thirteen, you told your parents that for your birthday, you wanted to become a model. Two phone calls and a private jet flight later, and you had signed with the best modeling agency in the country and had your first ever photoshoot booked. 

Fate gave you parents with connections, and you’d be a fool to not use it to your advantage. Fate also gave you the same photoshoot as another young model, and you’d be a fool to not befriend Kenyu Yukimiya immediately. Out of all the friends you’ve ever made, fate only gives you good luck twice: first with Yuki, then with Juliette. You used to think you got lucky three times — meeting Rin for the first time was like experiencing something cosmic. Now you know better. Even rich people can have shit luck, too. 

Today’s unlucky situation is the way Yukimiya’s “favorite people” all happen to be athletes. There’s not a single person here who isn’t his teammate or somehow related to Bastard Munchen, except for you. If you didn’t love Yukimiya so much, you would have hauled ass. It’s normally easy enough for you to avoid soccer players at parties because they don’t normally get invited to the same social events you do, but now you’re the odd one out. 

At least the food is good. You don’t have a photoshoot scheduled until next week, and that’s exactly why you’re comfortable with choking down half a bagel sandwich rather than socialize with the guys seated by you. Yukimiya’s real big on intimacy and the power of friendship or whatever, which is probably easier to achieve when you play a team sport versus the modeling industry, where good jobs are few and far between, and the reason why some models are so skinny is because they can’t afford to eat — literally and figuratively. If they’re not booking jobs, there’s no way they can buy groceries in this economy. 

He has everyone assembled at one long table in the massive backyard of his mansion. It’s honestly kind of Last Supper-core, but it fits him. Little Yuki’s finally old enough to have a seat at the big kid’s table. He’s sitting across from you, and you’re sandwiched between Kunigami and Hiori. Next to Yukimiya is Isagi. Out of everyone at this party, soccer player or not, Isagi is the person you want to avoid the most. So far, you think you’ve managed to skirt under his radar. If everything goes as planned, you’ll be able to leave this lunch with your belly full and not having to interact with anybody. It’s looking like you won’t even have to drink in order to get through this. 

“Hey, out of all of us at this table, who d’ya think would have the best shot at being a model?” Hiori is clearly speaking to you. The blue-haired player is looking directly at you, for God’s sake. You wonder if it’ll be mean to blatantly ignore him, but considering how this little question seems to have captured the attention of the surrounding players, it looks like pretending you’re hard of hearing is out of the question. 

Inside, you’re dying. The last thing you wanted to do was socialize, but it’d be selfish and bratty to request that Yukimiya find more time in his busy schedule to have a one-on-one celebration with you. You’re here to support your friend. You can stomach being friendly with boys who have probably seen Rin more recently than you’ve last seen him. Fuck — why are you thinking about Rin? Do not think about Rin!

You grab one of the premade mimosas from the tray in the center of the table. You down the glass in one swift gulp. On the outside, you flash Hiori a bright smile and give an airy giggle. “Why? You trying to get a foot into the industry?” 

Hiori’s cheeks turn a light shade of pink. “W-well, no. Just wanted to make conversation.” 

“No worries! I’ve been trying to keep up with whatever you guys are talking about, but even after all this time being friends with Kenyu, I still don’t really get soccer.” Your smile is still intact. You reach for another mimosa. 

“Rin didn’t teach you anything?” 

Ever since you entered the industry, you knew that you had to get comfortable with standing out. No — you needed to thrive on standing out. You needed to crave, to rely on, people’s undying attention in order to survive. In the eyes of the media, you’re the center of attention. You got what every girl your age wants. At this table, everyone’s eyes are focused on you. What you want is to be back in your room, away from their prying gazes and curious stares.

But you’re a trained professional. Your smile never slides off, never turns into a grimace. You give a casual shrug, directing your answer to the person who mentioned Rin in the first place. 

“I make it a rule to not discuss work when we’re together.” You look at Isagi, asking him with your eyes if that’s a good enough explanation for him. He holds your gaze, looking at you like he sees right through you.

You drink another mimosa. 

After loosening up because of the drinks, you find casual conversation with the Munchen players to be easy. The boys honestly never shut up, and you don’t know what they’re talking about half the time, but you’re cracking genuine smiles every so often, and by the time Yukimiya is going around and saying his thanks for everyone showing up, you are…

Not drunk, per se. You’ve built up quite the tolerance these past few weeks, and it’s hard to get wasted off of drinks that are basically three-fourths orange juice. (Seriously, was Yukimiya getting stingy with the champagne? Sober You might be able to acknowledge the fact that Yukimiya might have just been preparing for the Worst Case Scenario, which would be you hogging all the drinks to yourself. Which sort of happened. Fuck. Sometimes it sucks to be known so well.) You’re definitely tipsy, though. Maybe half a tier above tipsy? Whatever the case, you are definitely in no shape to drive. 

“Kenny,” you whine out his nickname, trying your best to pull out your puppy-dog eyes. “Please take me home.” 

“Ah, damnnit, [Name].” He runs his fingers through his dark curls. “Did you seriously get drunk off of orange juice?” 

“Champagne drunk is the best drunk. I’m pretty sure People Magazine quoted me on that like, last year, so it’s basically fact.” Yukimiya doesn’t seem overly impressed. “And I’m not drunk, but my alcohol levels right now are definitely above the legal limit. Sorry, but I don’t plan on making headlines for a DUI. Hard to spin that into something iconic.” 

This gets Yukimiya to crack a smile. “I thought you were leaning into the party girl look?” 

“Yeah, but after Justin Timberlake got caught for intoxicated driving, he made it look totally lame. He ruined it for us!” 

“I wish I could drive you back, but I have to retake some photos for this sneaker ad I’m doing, and with traffic, I’m really cutting it close already. Do you want to just come with, or hang out at my place until I get back? You should’ve said something sooner; I could’ve asked one of the guys to drop you off.”

You crinkle your nose. “No, thanks. I’m not a fan of strangers knowing where I live.” Becoming a model at such a young age thrust you into the spotlight. With media attention comes total pervs who lurk in Reddit threads and 4Chan, and stumbling upon some of the things said about you, reading the things they would do to you if they found you, all laid out in disgusting, graphic detail, left you kind of paranoid. Getting doxxed might be one of your worst fears. No Ubers. No car ride homes with strangers. “I’ll wait here. It’s been a while since I went through your things, so I’m sure there’ll be enough of your dirty secrets to uncover to keep me occupied.” 

“Did you need a ride?” 

Shitty luck, indeed. 

The teammate who decided to stay behind to help clean up (because he’s just that outstanding of a guy) is the sole reason for why you went buckwild on the mimosas. You can see why Rin was always frustrated with him.

“Nope—” You say, at the same exact time as Yukimiya nods enthusiastically. 

“Would you mind? [Name] actually lives pretty close by, so it might not be out of the way.” 

You shoot Yukimiya a scathing glare. He ignores it completely, smiling at Isagi. 

“I don’t mind. That is, if you don’t mind.” Isagi is looking at you expectantly. Yukimiya trusts him. And you trust Yukimiya. By some sort of logic, you should reasonably be able to trust Isagi. It’s clear that Kenyu wants you to carpool with him, anyway, otherwise he wouldn’t have been so happy to dump you onto him. 

“Sure. I’m ready to go whenever you are.” 

What would happen if you jumped out of a moving vehicle? 

At best, you’d get your pretty skin all scraped up, meaning your photoshoots would either have to be delayed, or you would have to endure all the clear distaste for your “unprofessionalism” in the workplace from the people who actually had to work to get to where they’re at. At worst, you end up hospitalized. Somehow, it seems easier to photoshop out a few cuts and scrapes than working with someone in a full-body cast.

As you weigh the pros and cons of jumping out of Yoichi Isagi’s vehicle — a sleek, black sedan that’s top of the line, sure, but understated luxury; it’s not flashy like the sports cars you see most athletes sporting — he smoothly reverses out of Yukimiya’s driveway. Isagi does that boyish thing where he ignores his backup camera completely and opts to rest one hand on the back of the passenger headrest, the other hand on the steering wheel. Fuck. Maybe it’s not a boyish thing. Maybe it’s manly. Isagi leans a bit into your space; not enough to bother you, but enough to where you can smell the scent of his cologne. He smells clean and fresh. Maybe it’s not cologne, but laundry detergent and fabric softener. Somehow, you find this very fitting of him. 

He glances out the window to check for traffic and eases you two onto the open road. 

He’s not playing any music, and you’re sure as hell not about to ask for the aux. You look out the window instead, watching the world pass you by through tinted glass. It makes everything around you appear darker. Somehow, you find this to be very fitting for you.

“You live around this area, yeah?” Isagi asks you, and you’re reminded that if you want to go home, you actually have to let the driver know where home is. 

“Yeah, sorry. Keep heading straight, and I’ll let you know when there’s a turn coming up.” Talking to Isagi shouldn’t feel so awkward. After all, you managed to talk (and actually enjoy talking) to all of Yukimiya’s teammates. You even got along well with Kaiser. But it just feels weird — you’ve never met him directly, but you’ve heard so much about him, that it’s hard to not see Rin’s rants every time you look at Isagi. 

So you don’t — look at Isagi, that is. You look at everything else. His car is clean. There are air fresheners in the AC vents. The floor of the passenger seat is oddly clean, like no one ever sits here. If that’s the case, you hope your heels didn’t track in any grass blades or dirt. 

“Um,” Isagi awkwardly clears his throat at a red light. “When I mentioned Rin earlier at the party…” 

“What about it?” Fuck, this is so embarrassing. Since the car is stationary, you’re in the clear, right? If you just unlock the door, you can escape on foot. Your house is now close enough that it’ll just count as today’s exercise. 

“Sorry for bringing him up. I didn’t know—”

“—didn’t know what?” You turn to face him. His jaw is surprisingly sharp, and you watch the way he swallows before he answers you. 

“I didn’t know that you two broke up.” 

No one knows that you two broke up. You’re still in the process of making sense of it all, and because you’re so messed up over it, naturally you had to confide in Yukimiya and Juliette. Neither of them would ever share that secret, though. 

So why the hell does Yoichi Isagi know?

“The light’s green.” You tell him, shifting your body in the seat, avoiding him by positioning yourself even closer to the door. 

Neither of you say anything else during the drive.

[colorlessjay]

Does season16 dean feel bad when he looks at season6 castiel sometimes? Knowing what happens in the future and everything that happens between them?

Ya know, this is something I think about often, but angst is kinda hard to put into words, but I can try:

Life is funny. You spend half your life believing that when the lights go out, they go out dark and empty, that there is no 'after' when you clock out.

Then suddenly, you get proven wrong so hard that it rocks your world view. Everything you've ever believed in gets thrown back in your face, and all you can do about it is get angry. Because that's the only thing keeping you sane. Because it's all you can really do when faced with hell, and heaven, and angels.

Dean regrets being angry.

"It's not your fault." That's what Cas told him. That Chuck was the one that pulled anger out of him to progress his shitty story

"I forgive you" Cas tells him when Dean feels like he's being pulled down by the weight of his guilt

"I love you" Cas whispers to him, when doubt starts creeping in and clawing at his heart

Small words. Short sentences. But they do wonders keeping Dean up-float, keeping the itch of alcohol out of his hands and his mind at rest

The sight of his husband would usually put him at ease. Would shave away those feelings that often crawl up his spine when he least expects them

But Cas - Castiel isn't his husband right now. The man - the angel that's with him now is a curious, rebellious wave length of light and power who would do anything for the Winchesters

and Dean knows too well that it's not just anything, it's everything

And it's only the start of it

Castiel's vessel is still newly his. This is his first trench coat. His hair is still a wild mess. His voice is still hard and monotone. He still radiates angelic power, and stands as though he is an immovable mountain

and yet, in Dean's eyes, Castiel looks like a man yet to experience the true horrors of war

Ironic given what he's going through now

And it pains Dean. He stares at Castiel, knowing how Dean's younger self is going to hurt him, abandon him, kick him to the curve only to drag him back into their bullshit

Knowing Castiel would crawl back to him time and time again, bloody, beaten, and broken

Because of Dean

"Dean"

He snaps out of his dark thoughts, turning his gaze back towards Castiel who stands by the doorway between the kitchen and living room

"You were deep in thought" Castiel points out, his brow scrunching up and his head tilted to the side.

Dean swallows dry and offers a warm smile. He can feel it doesn't reach his eyes "Yeah well, age makes ya think"

"What were you thinking about?"

you

"Nothing you have to worry about right now" With a grunt, Dean pushes himself off Bobby's old couch and shoulder's his duffel bag "Sammy outside?"

"yes" Castiel stares at Dean. He can feel his eyes scanning his soul. He knows the angel can sense his reluctance to speak. Dean expects an interrogation. Expect Cas to call his bullshit. But Dean doesn't want to spill his guts, not when there's work to do

So with a smile and a pat on the shoulder, Dean saunters past Castiel to the door, knowing Cas would follow

It pains Dean to know how far Castiel will follow him

"Through hell, heaven, and purgatory

through every universe beyond and between

through death and back. I will follow you"

His husband's vows echo through his mind, but he looks over his shoulder at Castiel, those words don't bring the same comfort

--------

that was a long one. anyways, honk honk

[kamiversee]

➶-͙˚ ༘✶ 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁*𝘾𝙆 𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏

✧.* CHAPTER 10 || The Hallway Incident

[ { SYPNOSIS } ] ➤ A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt. Sounds easy enough, right?

[ { CHAPTER CONTENT } ] ➤ language & fluff.

[ { WORD COUNT } ] ➤ 3.2k

[ { PAIRINGS } ] ➤ jjk men x f!reader. gojo x f!reader. geto x f!reader. toji x f!reader. choso x f!reader. sukuna x f!reader. nanami x f!reader.

[ [ chapters mlist } ]

——THE GENTLE SOUND OF YOUR heel tapping against the ground due to the constant bobbing of your leg as your anxiety builds up inside can be heard beneath the sounds of Nanami and Toji engaging in conversation.

You've been waiting for about six minutes now, having watched every second of the nearby clock tick, and your nerves are all bundled up. In the time that they've been talking, you've mentally rehearsed a plan for yourself.

You're going to ask Toji for private lessons.

And no, not in a naughty kind of way. At least, not yet. But for the purpose of one, having an excuse to attend class with Gojo every Monday to really dedicate yourself to the lie you've given and two, to have one-on-one moments with Toji.

Is any of this going to work? Probably not.

The worst case scenario is that this all goes to shit and Toji rejects any advance you make at him, resulting in Gojo posting those videos of you. Great.

You draw your hand up to your face and begin to chew on your thumbnail as you wait, simply watching the two talk for a few more minutes until Nanami finally leaves.

When he does, you watch him walk away almost in a trance. He's got one hell of a back profile. Similar to Toji, the dress shirt that Nanami had did little to nothing to conceal the toned body that lay underneath.

You never used to undress people with your eyes like this before but then again, you never used to see this many attractive people at once.

The little trance you were in is broken when Toji suddenly snaps his fingers in front of your face, causing you to jump and turn your head to him. You hadn't even realized that he sat back down at his desk.

"S-Sorry Mr. Fushiguro." You apologize as you make eye contact with the man.

"You're fine," He says, his expression void of any real reaction to the way he saw you gawking at his student. "Now," Toji leans back in his chair, a slight creak heard as he does so, "Where were we?"

"Uhh..." You awkwardly straighten up in your seat, "I was telling you about the project I had for my sociology class."

"Right." He nods, "Well, I don't mind you coming to my class for a few weeks for this project of yours, just don't be a disruption."

"I won't sir." You hum.

The gentleness in your tone makes the older man shift in his seat a little. "Good. Anything else?" Toji questions, tipping his head to the side.

"W-Well, I was wondering if I could stay after the lecture as well."

"For?"

"Y'know, like, a more..." You look down at your lap. The eye contact was growing overwhelming. "In-depth lesson?"

The older man falls quiet for a second. Then, startling you, he chuckles at how fidgety and nervous you seem to be about your request. "You're not in any of my classes and yet you want a lesson from me? A private one at that?" He emphasizes.

You swallow hard and look back up at him, "Yes sir."

Toji folds his arms, the large muscles in his arms unintentionally bulging against the fabric of his shirt. "What is there for me to teach ya' privately that you wouldn't learn during the lectures?" He asks.

"Well..." Think, think, think, think, think.... "Students aren't the only people I have to study for this project. As a professor, you'd be a great example to use for how topics, such as economics, affect people in education." You manage.

He scoffs lightly, "So, basically, you want to study me after class?"

You wince a little at his words, "Study isn't really the word I'd use for it. Think of it more like an interview."

"An interview?"

You cross one of your legs over the other, "Yes sir."

He takes a long pause, simply staring at you in thought. Once he comes to a decision, Toji agrees with a nod and a shrug of his broad shoulders. "Alright. Every Monday then, I'll expect to see you during and after class. When's this little project of yours due?"

"Six weeks from now." That should be enough time for you to... seduce him, right?

Toji's eyebrows raise slightly, "Six weeks? Damn, must be some project."

"It's my final project, sir." You clarify.

He clicks his tongue and you watch the corner of his lips raise into a little smirk, "So your final grade will be riding on me then?"

Well technically you riding on him is more of the goal here but, there's no need for you to say that aloud.

You smile, "Yup."

"M'kay, cya next week then," Toji says dismissively. You give him a nod and both of you stand at the same time. He walks you over to his door and adds a simple, "I look forward to workin' with ya', kid."

His last word makes you halt. Slowly, you turn only your head back to him with a graceful smile on your face, "With all due respect, sir, I'm a grown woman. Please don't call me kid." You request.

With your head angled back to him, you notice that he's rather close to you. One of his hands was placed on his classroom door and the other was tucked into the pocket of his pants. His closeness causes whatever, obviously cheap, but rather pleasant-smelling cologne to run through your nose.

Toji tilts his head as he looks down at you, "Yes ma'am. My bad, it's a bit of a habit of mine."

The change in the way he addressed you has your heart feeling a little weird. It has to be that deep voice of his, the damn thing is intoxicating.

"You should get rid of it," You blurt out, referring to that habit of his.

An amused smirk spreads across his face. You didn't know it but, he found this one interaction with you slightly attractive. "I'll work on it." Toji hums casually.

You give him an approving nod and then turn away. His eyes follow you as you enter the mildly busy hallway and after you disappear from his sight, he sighs heavily.

You definitely made a decent first impression on him.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

As you rush down the hallway, you're lost in your head thinking about how you're going to pull this off for the next few weeks.

Subtly flirting and throwing small hints at him sound like your best options. Being straight up would be dangerous. You'll have to flirt and pretend like you aren't aware you're flirting-- 'innocently' making your way to what lies beneath his clothes.

You hope it works too. And while you're on that thought, you have to ask Gojo how difficult he thinks this will be for you. God, you hate that man. You don't want to talk to him about anything but you're forced to anyway-

You run right into someone in the hallway.

A phone drops and the binders and books you held make contact with the floor. "Shit," You curse, instantly crouching down to pick up the fallen items.

The person you ran into crouches down too, "Sorry," They apologize, even though you both ran into each other.

You go for the phone and motion the device toward the person, raising your head from the fallen items and meeting a new pair of eyes.

Holy fucking shit. It's another one. Another guy from the list.

And this one is... Well, if not for you picking Geto, this guy would've been your next choice.

Deep sangria-colored irises peer into yours, the shade veering more into the brown spectrum, and oddly attractive eyebags circle the male's eyes. There's a dark black tattoo running across the bridge of his nose and his hair is styled up in two messy ponytails.

You think your heart skipped a beat as you made eye contact with him. Hell, maybe it skipped a few beats-- maybe it stopped working for a second.

His face alone was tantalizing. The man was attractive in a way that made you unable to pry your eyes off him.

You think you flinch when he leans closer to you and tilts his head in concern, "You alright?"

Dazed by his caring voice and mesmerizing eyes, you nod your head. "Y-Yeah." You sigh.

You watch as the man looks down at your lips for a second, then right back up to your eyes as if he didn't mean to glance. The two of you grab all of the fallen items and stand up in sync. You extend your hand out, holding his phone and trying to give it back to him.

"Sorry for running into you," He apologizes again while taking his phone from you.

In return, he hands one of the items of yours he picked up back to you. "You're fine, I should've been watching where I was going."

He shrugs it off and his eyes drop down to the floor for a second before he speaks, "Me too. Also, I like your shoes."

You mimic his motion and look down at your feet, almost as if you'd forgotten what you were wearing. "Thank you," You reply as you look back up to the man.

If there's one thing they all have in common aside from being hot, it's the fact that they're all taller than you. It's something you mentally note as this man stands in front of you.

You smile and make a gesture to his face, "Nice tatt." You compliment simply.

His lips curve into a slight smirk, "Thanks, I did it myself."

"Really?" Your brows raise in surprise.

"Yup."

"Fuck, that's cool. Did it hurt?" You ask curiously, unintentionally leaning forward a little to get a closer look.

He shrugs, "Nah, not really."

You examine it for a second, only growing more and more impressed. "It's like, a perfectly straight line. Are you an art major by any chance?"

"Graphic design." He clarifies, "What about you?"

You shrug casually, "Psycology."

The male's head tilts to the side as he peers down at you, you can tell he's impressed. "Shit, psycology?" His head cocks back a little and he smirks, "That's hot."

"Hot?" You blindly repeat, chuckling at him. "It's just the study of behavior and mind, nothing special honestly."

He scoffs, "I'm pretty sure it's much deeper than that."

"It is but, it's more confusing than hot." You argue.

Your conversation with him is oddly seamless. He's now grinning at you, "The fact that it's confusing and you're still choosing to study it makes it hot."

"So, are you calling me or the major itself hot?" You ask teasingly.

He shamelessly looks you up and down and licks his lips before saying, "Both." He hums.

Your face grows a little warm. "Thanks, you too."

"You think I'm hot?"

"No, I think your major's hot." You utter sarcastically.

He laughs, "Yeah? You think graphic design is hot?"

"Mhm." You hum, "I mean, yeah, you're attractive but when you add on the fact that you're an artist? That multiplies it."

"Really?"

"Yup."

"On that note, you wanna see some of my work?" The man offers surprisingly.

"Yes please." You say with excitement in your voice.

Talking with this man in the middle of the hallway was by far the most refreshing thing you'd experienced within the last six days.

He chuckles and his thumb swipes through his phone for a second. When he finds whatever it is he wants to show you, he motions for you to come closer to him and you do.

Standing by his side and leaning over toward his phone, you see beautiful images of dark-colored designs that are nearly impossible to put into one word.

His art looks like... himself? It's almost as though he put his whole aesthetic onto a piece of paper. You catch shades of black, purple, and red ink swirled together in multiple different designs.

"Holy shit," You breathe out.

He chuckles at your reaction, "I've had a bit of art block recently but uh..."

As he trails off, you turn your head to look at him and notice that your faces are closer than you expected. Neither of you move but the eye contact held is almost intimate.

His voice drops lower and his gaze is unwavering, "I think I just found my new muse."

Heat rushes to your face as you grow flustered. By no means was he referring to you, right?

"R-Really?" You stammer.

His gaze dips lower, focusing on the curve of your lips, "Yeah," He hums.

The two of you lose yourselves in each other's presence for a moment. You nearly forgot about... well, everything for a second.

The male was enamored by you. You were just some random girl he ran into and yet he couldn't take his eyes off you. As for you, well, it's simple to say that you were just as infatuated. His face was so close, so flawless, and yet so mysterious.

You clear your throat and both of you snap out of the little trance you'd been in. Then, the two of you turn away from each other, clearly equally flustered by the closeness and lack of words.

"U-Uhm, your art is b-beautiful by the way." You stutter, physically cringing at the way you're tripping over your words.

You haven't been this nervous in a long time. This is worse than Toji, worse than Geto, and even worse than Gojo. Your heart is a pounding mess and you feel like a high school girl with a crush all over again.

"Th-Thanks," The man beside you chokes out.

A sense of comfort washes over you as you realize you're not the only one whose nerves are bundled up.

He suddenly clears his throat, "Well uh, I should uhm, probably get going."

You turn to look at him, "Right. Sorry for running into you again."

"No, don't apologize. I'm actually glad you did." He says, avoiding looking you in the eyes but smiling a little bit.

"Think I can get your name before you go?" You question shyly.

His gaze meets your face, still looking everywhere except for your eyes. "Choso. Kamo Choso, but you can just call me Choso." He tells you.

You stick a hand out for him to shake and give him your name in return. As his hand meets yours, you notice the slight claminess of his palms-- he was sweating... how cute.

Again, he clears his throat. "Since we're exchanging names, can I get your number too? I doubt we'll run into each other much since we have two entirely different majors..." Choso requests.

You're quick to nod and it's in a matter of seconds that the two of you exchange contact information with one another.

"It was nice meeting you, Choso." You voice out softly.

He nods his head, "Yeah, it was nice meeting you too."

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

Alright, so today was an absolute rollercoaster.

From that morning being all lovey-dovey with Gojo, to hating him all over again, to meeting his stupidly sexy professor, to catching a glimpse of the stoic blond, and all the way to having an airy almost whimsical conversation with Choso.

What a day.

Seriously, what a day. Talking to Choso was so different. It didn't feel like you were talking to a target, it didn't feel forced or uncomfortable. Talking to Choso was the most pleasant thing ever.

As you made your way off-campus, your head was in the clouds-- filled with thoughts of the mysteriously artistic man you just had a conversation with. He was different, you could feel it.

You find yourself smiling at the little still moment the two of you had, how innocent it was, and how comfortable you felt. There's a sudden thump in your heart that makes your thoughts freeze.

Shit, the one thing you're not supposed to be doing. The one unspoken rule you'd set for yourself. You're breaking it already. You hardly know the man and you're breaking the single stipulation you'd put on yourself.

No feelings.

It's a simple rule. A needed rule. You can't go around sleeping with different men and fall for one at the same time. That'll never work out.

Imagine the look of disgust on their face when they find out they were just a name you needed to cross off. Hell no, the last thing you want to do is fuck with anyone's heartstrings-- including your own.

But...

Choso was so-

No. Stop it. You think to yourself. You nearly thought the same things about Gojo and look where that got you? In no way can you come out of this situation happy with any of the men involved.

This is just a one-and-done situation. No special cases.

Your goal is to seduce not swoon.

That's all your purpose consists of-- being a little whore for Gojo Satoru. As annoying as it is to come to terms with, that's exactly what your job is here. Fuck people, get paid. Nothing more, and nothing less.

No one becomes the exception. Under no circumstances do you allow anyone to fall for you; nor do you fall for anyone.

The smiles, the laughs, the ticklish feeling you get in your chest-- it all needs to be fake. Those special and cherishable feelings need to forever remain fake.

The second any of those emotions transfer into something real, everything will go to shit.

No relationships.

No feelings.

No romance.

Just sex.

You need to lock those words into your brain for the remainder of this list. Relationships would ruin things, feelings complicate people, romance will never work out, and sex is the only thing you need to focus on achieving.

You're not Gojo so you don't have plans on manipulating people. You simply want to be freed of the grasp he has on you and the only way to do that is by completing this stupid list.

As you made your way home, you thought long and hard about who you would go for first based on the three new people you met.

Toji would be a slow process since you gave yourself six weeks to figure him out. Nanami is a walking question mark since you have literally nothing to go on. And Choso seems all too sweet for you to think about seducing him just yet.

Based on that, you decide that Toji will be your biggest focus for the time being-- unless you spontaneously run into one of the remaining two unidentified people on the list.

With that being the most unlikely thing to happen given how lucky you got today, you end up organizing the list in a journal of yours at home. You'll put them into your own order and check them off as you go.

Yeah, you'll get through this.

...Right?

GOJO SATORU ✔︎

GETO SUGURU ✔︎

TOJI FUSHIGURO ☐

KAMO CHOSO ☐

NANAMI KENTO ☐

mlist || previous chapt || next chpt

[thepixelelf]

neurosurgeon wonwoo x reader x neurologist jihoon warnings: hospital stuff in general. an unnamed child patient in a life-or-death situation. I know how hospitals work even less than I know how frats work. wc: 914

love triangle au requests

[the quiet ones] "He's frozen," you tell Jihoon, eyes set on the operating table and the man at the head of it.

Jihoon lifts his eyes from the monitors to peer through the observation window. Wonwoo isn't exactly frozen like you said, but Jihoon can see the hesitation laced in his fingers. "He can't be."

"He doesn't work on children anymore. Hasn't since..."

When you trail off, an eyebrow rises behind Jihoon's hair. "He told you that?"

"He didn't mean to," you say with a sideways glance. Jihoon can tell he's not supposed to know this about the head surgeon in the operating room, but clearly, the situation is dire. "The assistants in there don't know the procedure like we do, Jihoon."

You both watch Wonwoo as he pauses again. His assistants all look up at him for direction, but he says nothing.

"I have to go in."

Jihoon stops himself from shaking his head. "Spark, you just clocked out after your ninth hour. Plus, you were the one who told me Wonwoo could do this. "

"He can, just--" You clench your fist and stop yourself from arguing. Now is not the time. "Let me take over."

Jihoon looks at Wonwoo again. You must be a prophet -- now, Wonwoo is truly frozen.

"Go," Jihoon orders.

You don't look back.

=

Wonwoo thought he was the only one who knew the emergency alarm connected to the escape stairs was broken. Evidently not, when the sound of the crash-bar doors swinging shut echoes off the concrete stairs. Even though Wonwoo can't see it from his position on the cold floor -- his knees halfway bent to his chest and his head ducked behind his arms -- he hears someone sit down next to him.

"Shouldn't you be overseeing someone?" Wonwoo mumbles.

Jihoon doesn't say anything for a few seconds. Then, he sighs. "Not sure if you've been keeping track, but it's been two hours. Spark is taking a well-deserved nap." His knee bounces in a rapid rhythm. "At least, they'd better be."

Lifting his head, Wonwoo looks at the way Jihoon glares down the stairway. His concern for you reads on his face like irritation, an expression he's seen on Jihoon more and more as of late.

He calls you Spark, and he's called you that for as long as Wonwoo's known either of you. It piqued his curiosity when he first heard it, but he's yet to find out what it means. He's never felt close enough to ask.

Stretching his legs out, Jihoon clears his throat. "The operation was a success -- not that you asked."

"No thanks to me, either," Wonwoo mutters bitterly, dropping his head again. That little girl's smile as Jihoon had walked her through the procedure yesterday shines on the inner sides of his eyelids. "I could've killed her."

"You didn't."

"Only because you replaced me with a real surgeon."

"Jeon." Jihoon's voice beckons Wonwoo to look up at him. "You're confusing real with perfect. There's no perfect surgeon, as much as people pressure you to be one. Real surgeons get tired. Real surgeons have problems. Real surgeons freeze."

Wonwoo curls his lips between his teeth. If he didn't, he wouldn't be able to stop them from shaking. He takes a breath. "They didn't."

You finished the operation Wonwoo couldn't even start.

"Sure, just keep convincing yourself that you're the world's worst fuckup. Keep telling yourself that every other doctor here is perfect and this one mistake makes you inferior. Keep thinking all of us are real while you just -- hell -- faked your way through medical school and six years of surgeries that went just fine. Yeah, that makes sense." Jihoon runs a hand through his cropped black hair. He meets Wonwoo's eyes. "Sounds stupid when I say it out loud, right? I'm not gonna bother pulling you out if you just keep digging yourself deeper."

Wonwoo shakes his head, even though he doesn't know what he's saying no to.

Jihoon lets out another sigh. "But someone will." His knee starts bouncing again. "Spark believes in you, you know? Didn't stop believing you could do it even after they took over. They were exhausted, but they still told me where to find you."

You would know, wouldn't you. Wonwoo feels the corners of his mouth begin to press into his cheeks.

"They're stubborn like that," Jihoon muses, eyes unfocused down the stairway, an unconscious smile on his face.

Something settles at the bottom of Wonwoo's stomach. His lips press between his teeth again. "You like them, don't you?"

Jihoon jolts back to the present, his brows furrowing at Wonwoo. "And you?"

"Me?"

"Are you gonna tell me you don't feel anything for them?"

Wonwoo blinks. His mouth opens, then closes. "I... guess not."

"Then that's another thing we have in common," Jihoon says, oddly calm after hearing the closest thing Wonwoo's said to a confession since high school. "Spark's always telling me we'd be friends if we tried. Calls us 'the quiet ones'."

Slowly, Wonwoo tilts his chin. "...I don't know what you're saying."

"Me neither." Jihoon gets to his feet, turns to Wonwoo, and holds out his hand. "I guess-- I can't say you're not good enough for Spark if the two things I know about you we have in common."

Wonwoo takes Jihoon's hand. "Two things?"

After Jihoon hoists Wonwoo off his ass, a shy grin spreads across his lips. "Quiet and in love. Welcome to the club."

[jasmineslonghair]

Another rant.

In a sense I do believe that Snow did love Lucy Gray, but I saw this tiktok talk about how it isn't a love story, it's a tragedy. I have to agree, because Snow was given so many chances to choose the good path, he had people that genuinely believe in him. Tigris, Lucy Gray and Sejanus but Snow is so emotionally stunted and not willing to progress. (At least from my view that's what I concluded)

So many times throughout the book I caught myself smiling or laughing at something he said. And I literally would be like "wtf" but Suzanne Collins is such a genius writer like that, and like a broken clock I'll repeat, she wrote this book so well that, I was genuinely forgetting that this young man will become a man I will hate and wish death upon.

Reading the original trilogy as a pre-teen I never truly understood the gravity of Snow's evil and watching the movies again recently with context from the book, made so many little actions and lines hold more weight.

I hate over-analysing books because of English in school, but books like this remind me why I love to read and get lost in worlds that are are different but the same.

I'm rambling but this book and this whole franchise has been on my mind for a while and I need a creative outlet.

[erinfern0]

late night fears.

simon "ghost"riley x gn!reader

— gender-neutral nicknames, gender-neutral anatomy, only pronouns used are you, etc.

summary: he's never this late, and you become terrified of his fate, even paranoid. soon though, simon helps you understand that you don't have to worry, but there's nothing wrong in actually worrying.

warnings: hurt to comfort and some fluff, some swearing, description of injuries.

You were sitting on your couch, eyes moving around as you tried to focus on anything else, than the clock on the nightstand. It's way past 3AM, and he still isn't home. You were worried sick as you heard another quiet click of the seconds passing by. Bouncing your leg against the floor, squeezing your hands together. Your heartbeat was getting faster with anxiety and worry. “He's alright”, you repeated under your breath over and over with your voice trembling. It wasn't the first time he was late, of course. But it was the first time he was late for that long.

You heard footsteps in the hallway before your apartment door, and you couldn't help but get up quickly enough to leave your mind dizzy. You heard someone looking through their set of keys. Your heart raced as you unlocked the top lock of the massive door. You opened and almost cried at just the sight.

His face was still covered with his black balaclava, but you could see the black paint smudged across his eyes with a mix of blood and sweat. A new, light scar going from the arch of his brow to his hairline and a dark red wound over his nose, implying it was broken recently. Again. His knuckles shone with tiny scratches as he held the keys you heard from the living room.

He gasped at the sight of your wet face, lips swollen from biting them repeatedly.

“Fuckin' hell, love...” he whispers, his voice low and raspy but clear and vibrant, making you burst into tears right in front of him. He's back, you knew he'd be back. You felt stupid, extremely stupid for not trusting him. You fell apart, collapsing into his tired arms, your own ones tightly wrapped around his neck, holding him as close as possible to remind yourself that he's alright. Not only that, but you felt anxious and selfish for allowing him to hold you close, walk you back into your apartment, lock the door, and guide you to your shared bed. You choked on your own tears as he placed you on the mattress, looking up at him through the darkness of the room. His eyes were closed as he slowly leaned towards you, lying down next to you, still wearing his patterned slacks, worn-out, stained hoodie, and balaclava. You have no idea when, but he took his shoes off. He throws one arm over your waist, placing your head on his shoulder, and you gladly comply. You slowly adjusted yourself against him, tears damp the warm material of his hoodie.

He didn't speak. Not yet, at least. He knew the state you were in, and he knew how much you just needed to get yourself together without anyone interrupting you with their rambling. He slowly caressed your hair, his other hand resting over your stomach. His eyes were still closed as you took deep breaths in. Between the smell of blood and sweat, you could just smell him. The scent of his warm skin, hidden under the material of his clothes, the scent of home.

You had no idea how much time had passed, but you raised your head slowly, your heart beating steadily. His eyes were shut, but you knew he wasn't asleep. He rarely slept, especially not when you were awake. One of your hands unraveled from under his grip just enough to reach the material that covered his face. You froze as he quickly wrapped his fingers over your wrist, eyes open just to glare at you. Instinct. The instinct to keep his identity safe under his balaclava, not letting go even around you. Seeing it's just your hand, his gaze softened, and he moved his hand over your forearm, holding you closer and letting you move.

Your fingertips grasped at the bottom, slowly curling just to play with the rim. You kissed his shoulder when you saw his jaw clench. Simon nodded his head and breathed out, leaving Ghost under the balaclava that you threw on the nightstand. Allowing Simon to spend some time with you.

“I'm... I'm so sorry I freaked out like that.” you whispered and chuckled nervously, almost completely quiet as his hand gripped your waist, feeling the soft material of your shirt under his fingertips.

“Don't apologize.” he shook his head, brows furrowing. He couldn't understand why would you ever blame yourself for getting vulnerable, especially since you were the person to allow him to do it first. He was never comfortable to speak about his feelings until he met you. You were the reason he attended therapy more, you made him comfortable to open up to you, and you not only listened to him. No. You also accepted and helped him when he needed you the most. You were his anchor, the one and only who grounded him and helped him to stay at peace during storms.

His arms wrapped around you a little tighter, pressing a kiss to your forehead. He was never good with his words, too much going on in his head to make clear sentences. Too much burden for you to carry. So he usually picked to just hold you, show him that slightly vulnerable and sensitive part of him that you unlocked from under his mask.

The way his chest expanded with each one of his breaths calmed you down, the pressure making you try to match the rhythm.

Soon enough, your breathing calmed down, your heart matching Simon's pace as you just stayed in his arms, admiring his presence, his smell, his kisses over your hair. Your worries were quickly replaced by exhaustion caused by your cries and fears, allowing you to melt in his embrace, slowly falling asleep next to the man who made you feel so loved with such simple gestures.

masterlist | request info

[webslingingslasher]

I miss peter and trouble :( what are they up to??

'if you don't get your hands off me right now, i'll scream.' peter unpeels his hands from your shoulders, you take a step away from him. he's radiating too much heat.

'sorry.' even his voice is sending you up a wall, you turn to give him a glare and sputter at his choice of clothing. 'we're in the middle of a heatwave, our ac is busted and you're wearing a jacket? what the hell is wrong with you? i'm over here sweating my tits off and you're just gonna walk in here wearing a jacket?'

looking at him makes you sick. 'oh my god, you just pissed me off. leave me alone.' peter doesn't leave you alone, he kisses your temple and makes sure not to touch you anywhere else. 'come to the bedroom.'

'i absolutely do not want to have sex with you right now!' peter takes your mood in stride, it's not him, it's the heat. 'i don't want you to have sex with me.'

'then what do you want?'

'you to listen to me.' your eyes narrowed into slits and you cross your arms over your chest. 'i'm not going anywhere until you take that stupid fucking jacket off.'

'that's a weird bargain but i'll take it.' he unzips it in a second, the knowledge of a shirt underneath it makes you unleash a layer of rage and disbelief. 'it's ninety degrees out there and you're wearing layers? our ac is broken, peter! broken and no hope of repair for at least three days and you're wearing layers. wow.'

you're not being dramatic in the slightest either. it's boiling outside, the complex pool is "closed for cleaning," and the stagnant air swarming around your apartment is making you go a little crazy.

'i know, trouble. c'mon, i have something to show you.'

'if it's another jacket, i'm gonna be pissed.' you follow behind peter and hold a sour look while you notice his back isn't soaked with sweat.

'it's not another jacket.'

peter gives you an extremely wide grin at the door, he's proud of what he has behind it. 'ready to love me forever and ever?' there's nothing that could boost your mood, you're currently hanging out in satan's lair.

'yup.' your whole body feels clammy. peter doesn't mind the attitude, he was right with you an hour ago. 'give me a countdown.' you hold no enthusiasm in your voice.

'i'm not going that.'

peter just blinks, you roll your eyes and rush through it. 'three, two one, go.'

your shared room is opened, nothing looks different from the outside but peter ushers you in and you feel... cold. the sheen of sweat that covered every bit of you was frozen in it's tracks, you bask in the temperature change while peter shuts the door behind you.

you look up at the vent, there's no running air but you can hear the faint buzz of it. as you turn to peter, you clock it. your jaw drops, sweet relief was blessed over you.

'oh my god, i love you so much.' you rush to stand in front of the window unit, the air hits your chest and you lift your tanktop up to soak it all in. 'holy shit, this feels so good.' you spin and let out a moan when the air washes over your back.

'uh huh, you're welcome.' peter's cocky and it's deserved. 'you're the best boyfriend ever, i love you so much, please marry me.' you don't care if peter's watching, you're about to get naked and dance in front of the mini ac unit.

'i'm borrowing it from chris, so don't get too attached.' it was an emergency patch for the time being, chris was in jamaica and had no use for the unit. peter was in a one bedroom apartment with a grumpy lover.

he only had to get halfway through his explanation before his friend gave him permission as long as he reinstalled it when his ac was fixed. 'tell chris i love him.'

'i'll tell him you said thanks.'

'close enough.' you bask in the blast of air for another minute before it gets icy, you've been so damn hot that you almost cry at how good it feels to shiver.

flopping to your bed, you welcome the air stream on your legs. 'give me ten minutes and i'll suck your dick.'

'oh, c'mon now. i don't deserve that.'

you sit up to point at him. 'you chose my window so it would be on me at all times. that's selfless love and you deserve to have your dick sucked, don't you dare fight me on it.'

peter sticks his hands up, 'i wouldn't dare.'

'smart boy, now come give me kisses.' 

[oddsconvert]

Shattered #10 - Happy Birthday, August! Part III

Previous / Masterlist

CW: kidnapped whumpee, captivity (kinda/kinda not), defiant whumpee, whumpee thinks caretaker is a whumper, forced to kidnap references, vampire caretaker, threat of violence/death, weapons, adult language (pls let me know if I've forgotten any!)

AND FINALLY! THE LAST PART FOR AUGUST AND LUCAS' BACKSTORY! 🎉 Thank you so much for your guys' patience, with this one - it means everything <3 We resume with our usually scheduled Declan next chapter! 😍 And a mahoosive thank you to @darkthingshappen for her beta and help!

---

August feels like a stranger in his own home. A prisoner in his own home; his sanctuary now nothing more than a gilded cage. He is forever and always a captive of his own compassion and a victim of his cowardice. 

But August curses himself for daring to think like that. It’s unjust to think like that, especially on a night like tonight. The frantic hammering of a human heartbeat upstairs is his bleak reminder that he’s not alone anymore, and yet somehow… he’s never felt more alone in his life. The quiet has never screamed so loud, and the walls stretch to endless empty space around him.

For decades, August has been a ghost haunting this house. Lost in the in-between, a nobody with nobody. For decades, August has been at peace with that. Or at least, he had convinced himself that he was - if he dared to admit that the solitude was crippling, then the silence would drag him under and swallow him whole. Contentment was a convenient lie for the last century, but August’s loneliness is a glaring truth rearing its ugly head. He isn’t ready to face it.

Despair gnaws at his insides, sharper than the bite of the cold nipping his skin. Daylight has been and gone, and now moonlight bleeds through the dusty drapes. The ornate windows have blurred over with swirling white as the blizzard wails like a banshee and rages outside. August waits and waits, the grandfather clock in the corner ticks with a maddening slowness. He waits for something, anything and nothing all at once. He doesn’t know what. His comeuppance, perhaps? A wooden stake plunged straight through his spine? 

The human is still hidden away upstairs. Hours have bled by without a sound, not a whisper of movement and not a creak of the floorboard. No doubt he is plotting and scheming, waiting for his perfect chance to strike. Who could blame him? If August were in the human's position, trapped and desperate, the only natural urge for survival would twist his mind too.

August repeats his earlier vow in his mind like a broken record, over and over. When the snowstorm clears, the human will be released, and not a second later. He is a healer, not a gaoler. Every fibre of August's being aches with the need to atone. He will right this wrong no matter the cost. 

A sudden chill snakes down August's spine. A different kind of chill than the frosty air that fogs his breath. He snaps around, his eyes zeroing in on the dark figure lurking in the doorway. The human. They hadn’t made a sound, they’d just…appeared. Materialised out of thin air. Their sunken-in and bloodshot eyes lock with August’s in the dim light. His stance is imposing, his demeanour threatening. August feels strangely diminished by the very sight of him, as though he’s two inches tall.

"Hungry."

A single grumbled word is all that leaves the human's lips. Barely audible but the demand is crystal clear. Not a beg for scraps or a plea, it’s a demand. An attempt to claw back a sliver of control in a situation spiralling wildly out of reach for both of them. The terse delivery, the lack of a complete sentence - it speaks volumes. August isn't worthy of conversation, of any respect or dignity. He isn’t human, afterall - why should he be treated with any humanity?

The realisation eats away at him more than the rumbling of the human’s stomach.

That’s another thing. August forgets how quickly the human’s digestive system and their metabolism works. It’s a miracle how they live as long as they do. It’s as though the second they swallow, their belly immediately roars for even more. It must be impossible to keep up. August can’t keep up.

"I-I'll see what's in the pantry," August stammers, his voice cracking under the weight of the human's burning stare. "It- It won't be much, but..."

He shuffles towards the kitchen and its meagre cabinets. A can of chicken chunks, a tin of kidney beans, cobwebs and layers of dust line the shelves. The human catches a glimpse of the miserable sight, his expression drops to a mix of disapproval, offence and somehow, something akin to pity.

“If you plan on keeping me prisoner, you need to feed me, vamp,” the human snarls with contempt, “That’s human biology 101. Didn’t you claim to be a doc?”

August's jaw clenches. That hit a raw nerve. He wants to retort, to defend his capabilities, but the accusation lodges itself deep in August’s gut. He feels a flush of shame and embarrassment fill his cheeks, because the man’s words were a bitter truth. How can he call himself a doctor? When all he’s responsible for is pain and misery? He can’t even provide basic sustenance.

August finds himself at a loss for words. He can’t even look at the human. Instead he hangs his head and anxiously picks at the skin on his fingers.  “I-I …I didn’t p-plan this. Any of this-”

“-Food,” the human makes his demand again. His fuse running short.

“H-Help yourself. You don’t have to ask. Please, just make yourself at home.”

“This will never be my home,” the human spits venomously, his hands balled tight into fists.

“No - I - I didn’t mean tha-”

The human tears past August in a huff, his body vibrating with barely contained rage. His shoulder slams into August with deliberate malice. August, however, stands firm and absorbs the shove without a flinch. He watches as the human throws himself at the kitchen with the ferocious hunger of a starved lion. He wrenches the cupboards open with bone-jarring bangs and slams them shut with enough force to rattle the windows.

“So what’s your plan?” the human side-eyes August, squatting down to the lower cabinets and flinging them open. They’re empty too. They all are, really. He groans in frustration and slams them shut. “Earn my trust to break it? I’ll be a mindless zombie in days?”

"My plan is to return you to where I found you. As soon as I possibly can. Without hesitation." 

“‘Without hesitation?’” the human scoffs, a bitter and humourless laugh, “what a fucking joke.”

He snatches at cans and packets, what few there are that he can get his hands on. He crams a half-empty bag of dry pasta and a tin of peaches into his arms - god knows how long they’ve been there. Nothing that constitutes a full meal but his stockpile will stretch to a couple days, at least. August feels a weight settle heavy on his chest at that. He knows with a devastating certainty that the bridge of understanding between them is crumbling away. The human will surely disappear upstairs again, never to be seen. There will be no getting through to him. Strangers, they will remain.

The human fills his arms and races back towards the stairs. August scrambles after him, his voice tight, "Please, can we just talk? Before you-”

“NO! Don't follow me! Don't talk to me. Don't you dare come anywhere near me. Don't even knock on my door. You want to make good on your promise? I don't want to hear from you or see your face until we’re heading back to human territory. Comprende?!”

If August had a tail, it would be between his legs. His shoulders slump as he nods solemnly, shamefaced.

“I understand,” August croaks,  “I’m so sorry. I won’t come near you until it’s time to go.”

“Not a moment before, and not a damn second later,” the human growls with a point of his finger, veins bulging in his neck that August can’t help but notice.

One moment he’s there and the next, he disappears up the stairs in a flash. He slams the door like a hormonal teenager and August hears the unmistakable screeching and scraping of furniture being dragged across the room all over again.

*!*!*!*!*

Lucas doesn’t count the days it’s been. He doesn’t need nor want to. Even if he tried, the numbers would slip through his fingers like grains of sand. He refuses to be one of those prisoners who scratches tallies into the walls until there’s no space left to etch, until their sanity crumbles to nothing.

Either yesterday, or three days, or a week ago - Lucas can only guess, everyday has turned to mush - the storm knocked out the power lines. The house plunged into pitch-black darkness and stayed that way ever since.

It’s now or never. The vampire or him. Lucas knows no-one is coming to save him. No-one is looking for him. He can’t afford to be the damsel in distress and wait for a saviour or a miracle. The gnawing ache in his stomach and the dwindling rations remind him that his clock is ticking. 

Only one of them walks out of this alive.

Lucas grits his teeth, his resolve hardening like steel. He will be the last one standing. He dismantles his barricade, and the stake finds its way back to his palm again. His fingers curl around the splintered, shaved wood. On tip-toes, he sneaks through the shadowed hallway. A too-loud creak of the floor and Lucas freezes on the spot, his ears pricking. When nothing comes of it, he creeps on towards the stairs.

How will it feel? Brief hesitation coils around his gut. His hands turn clammy. How will it feel to take another’s life? There’ll be blood on his hands for the rest of his life - maybe guilt will eat him alive. But needs must. If he doesn’t slay the monster, there’ll be no life left to be wracked with guilt. How many countless other lives will this save aside his own?

Lucas holds his breath, cautiously poking his head through the bars of the stairwell railing. In flickering candlelight, the vampire hunches over a worn chessboard. Its face etched with an ageless ennui, it tediously moves the black knight across the squares. Somehow, its pale skin seems even more ghostly in the dim light, but Lucas notices how its dark eyes seem to hold a profound loneliness and deep despair.

The vampire was playing all by itself; the opposing white pieces stood sentinel in their starting positions. A ragged sigh escapes its lips as it captures a white pawn with a languid grace. The victory, if it could be called that, brought no spark of joy or satisfaction to its eyes. The vampire simply reset the captured pawn. And played on.

Lucas watches the vampire, his mind in turmoil. This isn’t what he envisioned; being kidnapped by a vampire. He’d imagined a life of forced subservience, drained for every drop of his blood. He saw himself fighting tooth and nail for a life no longer worth living. A life as livestock, waiting for slaughter. His grip on the stake loosens, and he stares down at it with deep contemplation.

This doesn’t feel like the nightmare Lucas had always feared it would be. This vampire, this monster that stole him… has kept to every promise it’s made. Lucas can’t believe that he’s admitting that. It hasn’t used persuasion. Why? It would be so easy, like taking candy from a baby. Lucas would have no choice but to grovel at its feet and offer it a drink from his neck. But the vampire hasn’t even tried to feed, claims it doesn’t want to feed. The vampire hasn’t laid a hand on Lucas. It’s given him peace and solitude, food and drink, endless promises to return him to human territory, safe and sound. 

A wave of doubt crashes over Lucas. Could he dare to trust the vampire’s word?

“Care to join…?”

Lucas jumps out of his skin. The vampire is looking right at him, its gaze fixed and intense. For a moment, Lucas fears the worst. Has he angered the creature? But as he looks closer, he realises that the vampire's expression was not one of anger. Instead, there’s a raw desperation and longing in its eyes, a look that Lucas had never seen or maybe cared to notice before. He quickly and discreetly shoves the stake into the waistband of his jeans, and grabs the bars of the stairs like the prisoner he’s been so convinced he is.

“What do I win?” Lucas calls down. There’s still hesitation to his voice, an air of stubbornness. He’s not fully prepared to let his guard down just yet.  

For the first time, the vampire actually smiles. “Bragging rights. I never lose.”

Lucas hesitates, a mixture of curiosity and trepidation coursing through him. Perhaps this game of chess would help pass the time before he goes back, and maybe, just maybe, it would give him a chance to glimpse into the mind of this vampire. He nods and heads down the stairs as the vampire frantically and meticulously restarts the board.

“I’ll let you go first, of course. Give you a headstart. It would be unfair otherwise,” the vampire lightly teases.

Lucas moves first, his fingers hesitating slightly as he places a white pawn forward. The vampire responds with equal care, its movements precise and deliberate. They play in pregnant silence, the only sound the soft click of the pieces against the board. An eternity and a half passes before the silence is dared to be broken.

“I’ve been thinking,” The vampire ponders, “when the power is restored, is there anyone you could call? Just to let somebody know you’re safe? That you will be back as soon as you can?”

Lucas leans back, his eyes glued to the board, and without looking up, simply replies, "Nope."

“No-one at all? Not a single soul?” the vampire presses.

“That’s what nope means, don’t it?” Lucas takes a pawn, and the vampire uncomfortably shuffles in its chair. “You know that no-one’s looking, that’s why you chose me, remember…?” a condescending smirk curls on Lucas’s lips. Like he can afford to prod and jibe. He’s feeling more at ease, his confidence growing with each passing moment.

"Anyway. You must be the softest leech going. Either that or you're playing the long game. The self-restraint is mind-boggling... don't you want a bite? Bet the smell is driving you almost cuckoo," Lucas outstretches his arm and waves it underneath the vampire's nose.

Lucas doesn't know how much he even believes what he’s saying anymore. His thoughts are a whirlwind. He has been so hellbent on survival, on staying one step ahead of the vampire, that he hadn't had a second to breathe and take a step back to really think about what was happening. He watches the vampire's face closely, searching for any sign of weakness or desire. Is the restraint genuine, or is it just a facade?

Instead the vampire’s face falls and it gasps, reaching out for Lucas’s wrist, “Your wound-”

The gash on Lucas’ palm is deep, the edges jagged and uneven and the skin around it is inflamed and swollen. Lucas had bigger fish to fry than worrying over a silly little cut, but now he notices it, he feels it throb with dull pain.

“That’s not looking good. Would you let me take a look at it?”

Lucas quickly retracts his arm and cradles his hand defensively. His eyes narrow. “If you win. If you win, maybe I’ll let you. But what do I get if I win?”

The vamp seems satisfied by that. So certain of its inevitable triumph. “I told you. Bragging rights.”

Lucas isn’t so certain that the vampire will best him. He remembers the long days spent practising his moves against the undefeated champion. His grandpa was tough, but Lucas had always held his own. There were times when he thought he might just be able to beat him, but the old man always managed to pull through.

A flicker of nostalgia and a flicker of grief passes over Lucas's face.  “My grandpa. He was the undefeated champ. But I got pretty damn close on occasion. This will be childsplay.”

The vampire’s face softens, its voice gentle, “Is he…still with us?”

“If he was, do you think I’d be sleeping rough on some sopping wet cardboard?” Lucas makes another sharp move, capturing one of the vampire’s pieces. Silence fills the air, and Lucas sighs.

“Why aren’t you using persuasion? You could easily win this. Make me move my knight and the game’s all yours,” Lucas suggests, shrugging. The vampire lets out a low chuckle, his eyes scanning the board as he calculates his next move. But Lucas's words lingered, a nagging thought in the back of his mind.

“No…but, in all seriousness…why - why aren’t you using persuasion? Like, at all? I’d be powerless to stop you. I’d… be y-yours,” he stutters. “Entirely at your mercy. You wouldn’t have to follow through on your promise to free me.”

The vampire's ruby-red eyes widen in shock. Its mouth drops open as though he’d been struck. It averts its gaze down to the flickering candlelight.

“Why would I?” the vamp laments, “I don’t want to use persuasion. To what aim? I’ve made a promise to you, and I intend to keep it. I value your trust, and I would never do anything to jeopardise it. You deserve your free will. Your choices and your thoughts are, and will always be, your own.”

“I didn’t choose to be here-” Lucas' lips respond quicker than his brain can comprehend. He can tell those words cut like a knife to the vampire. 

“No… you didn’t.” The vampire whispers, its tone heavy with guilt. “And that will haunt me for as long as I shall live.”

Lucas is taken aback. He’d always assumed that vampires were cold, unfeeling monsters - devoid of all emotion. But here, he saw something different. He feels something different. The vampire’s words were filled with a mournful regret. He fears he’d been too quick to judge, too eager to paint the vampire as a villain. Maybe there is more to this creature than meets the eye.

The wind suddenly picks up outside, it howls and screeches, whipping against the glass. Lucas stares out the window, a chill running down his spine as he watches the snow swirl and fall.

“I hate to say it… I am glad you are here. Not out there tonight,” the vampire says, watching the blizzard too with a heavy heart.

"Yeah. Me too,” Lucas mumbles. 

"What would you do?” the vampire frets, dragging itself back to the game’s attention and playing its turn, “If you were? Where would you go?"  

"I...I don't know,” Lucas shrugs, “Loiter somewhere warm inside until they chuck me out?" 

"Is there truly no-one you could go to?" 

"No-one. I – I don't have any family left. And try making friends in a nomadic lifestyle. I'm never in one place long enough to keep friends. And if I'm honest? I'm shocked one of you lot hadn't snapped me up sooner. I was...kinda expecting it." 

Every night was a gamble, every morning was a blessing. Lucas always had to be careful, to seek refuge in shadows and find safety in numbers wherever possible. He knew it was coming sooner or later. He was always a sitting duck for a vampire to come along and nab.

“Forgive me if I do say, I am glad I was the one to snatch you up. And not another.”

The walls Lucas put up seem to be slowly knocked down brick by brick. He doesn’t feel like a hunted animal or a captive anymore. He doesn’t feel like he has to look over his shoulder at every turn. It feels almost…safe. 

“Yeah… guess I probably lucked out, huh?” 

Silence falls once again, Lucas looks down to the board. But now he sees an opportunity. With a swift and decisive move, Lucas advances his rook, placing the king in check. The vamp’s king is trapped, cornered by Lucas's pieces.

There’s no escape. The vampire’s face falls as it realises. Lucas has won the game.

“There’s no way-” the vamp mutters, shaking its head in disbelief. “Well played,” he concedes, offering a hand out to shake. Lucas takes it readily. 

“I - I know we made a deal, but please may I look at your wound?” the vampire tries its luck.

“Finee,” Lucas rolls his eyes jovially, “Guess I’m feeling benevolent. Coming off a high from my win.”

*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*

The human sits on top of the examination table, swinging his legs nervously like a child. His eyes flitter around the room, eyebrows furrowed. There’s no sign of the destruction and chaos he unleashed last week. 

August approaches him and gently lifts the human’s hand, examining the slash across the palm. “This looks deep,” he murmurs to himself, turning the human’s hand to different angles and reaching for a bottle of antiseptic.

“Luckily, I don’t think it’s infected. Just a bit swollen. I have some antibiotic ointment - neomycin - and we’ll dress the wound. Shouldn’t give you too much trouble.”

As August pours the antiseptic onto the wound, the human flinches and hisses through his teeth. His eyes squeeze shut, snatching his hand away. The sudden movement startles August, who flinches back too, his heart hammering at his ribs.

"Are you alright?" August asks once he’s caught his own breath, his voice filled with concern. He tries to appear confident and in control, but the truth is, he’s just as nervous as the human.

"Yeah, I'm fine," the human replies, his voice a bit shaky. "It just stung a bit, is all."

August nods, his eyes filled with a strange intensity. "Want to know something?" he asks. The human nods, his own eyes filled with a mix of curiosity and apprehension.

"I used to be terrified of humans," August confesses.

The human’s eyebrows shot up. "You? Scared of humans? A vampire?"

“My mother spun tales of hunters, mobs, and lynchers. I was taught hell hath no fury like a human. I grew up believing our own blood bags would tear me limb from limb should they grab hold of me. I thought humans were my natural predator."

The human is silent for a moment, his mind racing. "…when it was the other way around," he finally finishes. “I’ve lived my entire life in fear of you - of your kind.”

“Me too. Our practices are cruel-”

“What makes you so different?” The human cuts in, desperate for answers, “Why - Why are you being kind to me?”

August gently applies the ointment to the human’s wounded palm, then a clean bandage securing it with a strip of medical tape. He places a cold compress on the area to help reduce swelling and pain.

“Kindness costs nothing, but means everything,” August explains, “You were not put on this earth to suffer, or to be my food. Nor would I ever want that. You deserve your freedom -  your humanity. I will live my life, and you will live yours.”

“Why-Why did you take me? If you never wanted me, if you never wanted this … why am I here?” the human croaks, tears brimming in his eyes. 

“I was left with no choice, I promise you. I - I took you to save you. My family - they forced my hand. They said they would take you if I didn’t. They would hurt you. They would make your life a living hell. It was the only way I could stop them - It was the only way I could make sure you made it home again-”

A tear freely rolls down the man’s cheek, he quickly swipes it away. “You…You saved me?”

“I’m so sorry it had to happen this way. But I would do it ten times over if it meant I knew you were safe in my hands.”

The human closes his eyes, and exhales a deep breath of relief. August can see the weight of the world lift from his shoulders. “T-Thank you,” the human whispers.

“Please,” August shakes his head in abnegation, “Don’t thank me. I don’t deserve gratitude. You deserve every apology I could ever utter, and still it would never be enough.”

August scuttles across the room to his cabinets, rummaging around for the painkillers he knows are hiding in there somewhere.

“August?”

August’s heart leaps. He stops still, the world stops still. It’s the first time the human has spoken his name. Not vamp, not leech, or monster. August. It’s like music to his ears.

“My…My name is Lucas. Lucas Slater. I - I thought if I gave you my name… I was giving myself away. But I trust you with my name.”

It’s not much, but it’s more than August could have ever hoped for. It feels like the sun rising after a long, dark winter. His legs feel as if they might give out beneath him, he has to lean against the countertop to steady himself.

“Lucas.” August whispers to himself. He can finally put a name to the stranger.  “It’s - It’s nice to finally meet you, Lucas.”

*!*!*!*!*!*

The day finally arrived. The day Lucas had been waiting for was finally here. Hometime. To where or whatever his home is supposed to be. But home has never been just a place to Lucas. It’s always been a feeling, a sense of belonging. This house, that was supposed to be his prison, has become more of a home in this short time than he has ever known in his entire life. The days spent with August felt like a new lease of life, their connection grew day by day. At night, Lucas slept like a baby, without a care in the world. In a toasty bed, and not on cardboard and newspaper. With a warm belly, and no starved rumbling. For the first time, he feels that sense of belonging he’s craved.

He’s never belonged anywhere, and neither has August, it seems.

The snow has melted, revealing a landscape that was both familiar and foreign. It looked so much like human territory but felt worlds apart. As they drove through the countryside, Lucas couldn't help but think about all he would leave behind. The vampire's old, dusty house had become his asylum, a place where he felt safe and protected. He had grown to trust August, to rely on him.

Lucas couldn't shake the feeling of dread that had been gnawing at him all morning. He knew his time with August was coming to an end, and the thought of leaving filled him with a sense of loss. He had grown to respect the vampire, more than he ever thought possible. He glances at August in the rearview mirror. His expression is unreadable, dormant. He’d been quiet all morning. He stares absentmindedly out the window, lost in thought. Lucas wonders if August feels the same way. They both live such lonely lives. A nobody with nobody. What if he stayed? Would that be so awful? 

They continue driving in silence, the only sound the gentle hum of the car’s engine. Lucas watches the road pass them by from the window, edging closer and closer to human territory. Lucas feels his stomach sink. Going ‘home’ shouldn’t feel like that. This isn’t right.

"Stop the car," Lucas blurts out.

"You want to get out here? We're still miles away yet!" August queries.

"No, I... I've been thinking," Lucas stammers. "How do you... feel about a new roommate? I guess I'd feel bad leaving you to your lonely, boring self with your dusty, old books."

Lucas silently scolds himself, using his humour as a shield. He lets the mask slip, and his lip wobbles with impending tears.

"I - I have nothing back in human territory. You plucked me from the streets, my cardboard bed, my only possession was a paper cup with a few coins... I'll do anything. Odds are another vampire will find me again in no time and I - I doubt I'll be as lucky to get another one as kind as you - it'd be like lightning striking the same spot twice."

"If you truly wish to stay, you're more than welcome..." August began, his voice soft. "The guest bedroom is yours for the taking, stay as long as you need or want. Please do not stay on my account, or out of fear of me. You truly are free to go."

Lucas hesitates, a thousand what if’s fill his mind. This is quite possibly the most idiotic choice he’s ever made, but it just feels right in his gut. It’s the path he’s meant to take.  "I - god this is so stupid, I barely fucking know you but... I think I trust you. If this kindness is all an act or a game then hey, props to you for keeping it up this long, you deserve to feed off me."

August can't help but smile, a gentle expression that warmed Lucas's heart. "Only if you're absolutely, positively sure. You can change your mind at any time. But...I'd like that. I'd like that a lot."

Lucas takes a deep breath. He rests his head against the window.  "Turn the car around. Let's go home."

---

Shattered taglist: @octopus-reactivated @whatwasmyprevioususername @ramadiiiisme @darkthingshappen @whumpsday  

@thecyrulik @t0rture-me @redwhump  @the-cryptid-finch  @snowstuffscuff

@whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump   @wolfeyedwitch   @interdimensional-chaos  @termsnconditions-apply   @whump-blog  

@leyswhumpdump @not-a-space-alien   @onlybadendings   @darlingwhump @sparrowsage   

@flynnswhumpprompts @whumpcereal  @wolves-and-winters @ashh-ed  @idkmansomeusername 

@whuarri  @33-sdtr-45 @pigeonwhumps  @canislycaon24  @the-whumpers-grimm

@damienxozmoze @predacon-skydrift @morning-star-whump @neverthelass @espresso-depresso-system

@only-shadows-dwell-where-we-are @androgynousqueenie @yetanotheraltwhumpblog @fiifii000 @that-one-small-world

@doodlepoodle154 @sodacreampuff @cupcakes-and-pain @topsheepstudent @mylovelyme

@anonfromcanada @astrokea @turn-the-tables-on-them @bloodredfountainpen @fleur-a-whump

@tobiaslut

[crucifiedfaerie]

Nicotine Stains Pt. 1 ༉₊˚✧

Modern!Kylo x Fem!Reader AU

➴ Summary: Your older brother's best friend seems to have everyone fooled. Everyone but you, that is.

➴ Part Two

➴ Word Count: 5k

➴ Warnings: 18+ MDNI, fem!reader, dom!kylo, slowburn, modern!delinquent!kylo au, virgin!reader, drug use, smoking, swearing, kylo breaking traffic laws for some pussy, kylo is a pretentious prick, why is kylo lowkey midwestern emo in this, mutual pining, finn my beloved is mentioned, some angst, fluff, SMUT (protected PiV sex, again reader is a virgin, fingering, a little scratching, slow n gentle sex, softdom!kylo, consent king !!, praise kink, pet names), typos probably

➴ Taglist: ( @enviedear @capitanostella @teapartydreams )

A/N: this may or may not be the most pretentious thing ive ever written but idc. also i want to give a special thank you and shout out to my beautiful mutual liv @enviedear for this idea! she totally helped me flesh out the modern!delinquent!kylo character and this fic would not exist without her. <;3 (also reader is NOT me bc if kylo ren played slipknot for me in his 1969 charger i'd fold immediately)

You sat at your desk, studying for your upcoming midterms and nervously chewing on the inside of your mouth. Mathematics had never been your strong suit and despite only being a month and a half into the semester, your calculus class was stressing you out to no end. The rhythmic ticking of your clock was not helping in the slightest, so you reached for your headphones.

This class is taking years off of my life for sure.

As you looked for a good playlist, you heard your bedroom window open behind you. You yelped, turning in your chair to face your window. Your panic died when you realized it was only Kylo, your older brother's friend.

Once he was finally inside, he shut your window before standing up straight. Kylo was probably the tallest person you knew, almost touching the low ceiling of your bedroom. You couldn't deny how your stomach did flips when you were stood next to him, not to mention he was absolutely fucking beautiful. Kylo's features looked like they were carved from marble and his long, dark hair always fell perfectly around his face. If he weren't so goddamn annoying, you'd like him a lot more.

You groaned. "When are you gonna stop coming in through my window you asshole?"

"It isn't my fault your window is the most accessible and the lock is broken." He smirked.

Your eyes narrowed as you glared at him. "The least you could do is knock, what if I like... had a guy over or something?"

Kylo laughed, walking over to you. He turned you in your desk chair to face your computer and pushed it in, before leaning down over your shoulder to look at your screen. "I think we both know that doesn't happen, kid." He jabbed before making his way to your door.

Your face felt hot, his audacity never failed to make you seethe. And his choice of nickname for you only made you madder. You turned to glare at him. "You fucker- I- you're only like 3 years older than me!??"

You heard him laugh as he walked out of your room and down the hallway.

What made it worse was that it seemed he had everyone in your family fooled. Kylo acted like an absolute angel in front of your mother, and it pissed you off to no end. When he would come over for dinner, he always insisted on helping her with the dishes. He would make conversation with her, crack jokes, go the whole nine yards as if he weren't a college dropout and also doing drugs with her son on the side.

Your mom, being the stereotypical Christian, midwestern mother that she is, would always say things along the lines of "Oh Kylo, you're such a sweet boy. It amazes me that someone like you listens to such angry music." He would just blush and laugh it off.

Kylo drove a black 1969 Dodge Charger R/T that he would pull up to your house in, blasting the loudest possible music. Your dad loved him, and they would always talk cars when they got the chance. The first time you came home and saw your dad helping Kylo change his oil, you thought you had died and gone to hell. You just stared as Kylo smirked at you. That stupid, evil smirk you were so used to seeing.

They can't possibly be serious?? How do they not see how much of a jerk he is?

You however, he was much different with. Any chance Kylo got to annoy you, he would do it. He frequently stood outside your door for god knows how long, just waiting for you to come out so he could scare you. You would jump and yell expletives at him before weakly punching him in the shoulder. He and your brother would just laugh, thinking it was funniest thing in the world.

You sighed, staring at your computer screen. You were over studying for the night. You shut your door, before turning off the light and getting into bed. You tried to sleep, but couldn't. The stress of college was slowly suffocating you but despite that, you couldn't seem to get Kylo out of your head.

Sure, you have had a slight crush on him since you were in middle school, I mean who wouldn't? Look at him. But it didn't mean anything, the feeling was almost certainly not mutual and he was still the biggest asshole you'd ever met.

God I fucking hate him... I mean I don't, but I do.

Your thoughts were interrupted by a light tapping at your door. Your brow furrowed. "Yeah?"

Kylo opened your door slowly, making sure it didn't creak as he closed it behind him. "What are you still doing awake, its 3am. Don't you have classes tomorrow?" He whispered, fumbling with your window.

You rolled your eyes, still staring at the ceiling. "Yeah. What do you care?"

He smirked slightly, swinging one leg out the window before looking at you. "Finn asked me to pick you up tomorrow. What time are you off?"

Fucking fantastic.

"Oh, great." You said sarcastically. "2:30pm. The math and science building."

He ducked through the open window, and stuck his head back inside your room to look at you. "See you at 2:30 then." He smirked, before exiting again and shutting your window, leaving you in the dark.

I am not looking forward to tomorrow.

The following afternoon, you sat in your calculus class zoning out and unable to keep your mind off Kylo. You would never admit it, not even to yourself, but you were definitely daydreaming. You were thinking about how soft his hair always looks and how it might feel to run your fingers through it.

You didn't realize your professor had called on you until he said your name for a second time, repeating his question. You sat up straight before looking down, your eyes scanning your paper. "Oh um- the answer is... x equals three fourths." Your face felt warm.

"That's correct. Lets try to be more focused, though." Your professor sighed, before continuing his lecture. You nodded quickly, looking down at your paper.

As you walked to the parking lot, your palms felt sweaty. You'd been in Kylo's car only a couple times before and it was a long time ago. The recent nagging thoughts you had been having about him didn't quell your nervousness either. You spotted his car quickly, and made your way to the passenger side.

When you opened the door, his music blared so loud, you thought his speakers might blow out. You sat your bag on the floor of his car before getting in and shutting the door.

Kylo was smirking when you turned to glare at him. You reached over and turned the dial down halfway and he laughed.

"Too loud for you princess?" He said sarcastically, leaning over to look behind him as he backed out of the parking lot.

You rolled your eyes and buckled your seatbelt, smoothing out your skirt with your hands. "Too loud for most people. Can I play something?"

Kylo scoffed, that stupid smirk still on his face. "Fuck no, you can't play your music in my car."

"Whatever." You crossed your arms, staring straight ahead.

After a few minutes of silence, Kylo finally spoke. "Have you heard of Slipknot?" He asked, nodding his head towards the radio and tapping his long fingers on the steering wheel to the music.

You scoffed, turning your head to face him. "Yes I've heard of Slipknot, you loser... It's just not really my thing. Kind of scary sounding... its just screaming mostly."

He laughed loudly at your last comment. "Scary? Aw, now that's cute. I bet you listen to Lana Del Rey or some shit like that." Kylo said sarcastically, putting a cigarette between his lips and lighting it. He took a drag from it before offering it to you.

You rolled your eyes at him before taking it. Your fingers brushed against his, sending a shiver down your spine. You took a drag off of it before speaking. "Lana Del Rey makes really good music." Despite facing the window, you felt his eyes on you the whole time.

"Oh so I was right?" He grinned, staring at the road now. "I just said the first girly thing that came to mind... And when did you start smoking? I'm gonna tell your mom." He laughed.

You attempted to hide the smile that played at the corners of your mouth. "I'll be sure to tell her you supplied me with them... and yeah I like Lana. She sings about real shit." You took another drag from the cigarette, blowing the smoke out of the window.

Kylo scoffed at you again, motioning to the radio. "And you don't think bands like this do?... This song is called Metabolic, its about the lead singer's absent father and how he fears he will become just like him. They sing about real shit too, it isn't just screaming."

You shrugged, taking another hit before handing the cigarette back to him as he pulled into your driveway. "I never said they didn't, I'm just not super into this type of music."

He glared at you as you grabbed your bag, cigarette dangling from his mouth. You got out of his car, and shut the door behind you. "Thanks for the ride, Kylo" You said through gritted teeth.

I can't believe I'm telling this man thank you.

"No problem." He looked like he wanted to say something else but he stopped himself.

You nodded, before heading to your door. You noticed that he had watched you and waited for you to get inside your house before pulling away.

"How nice of Kylo for driving you home. What a sweet boy." Your mom smiled as you came through the door. "I wish he wouldn't smoke though, you smell like cigarettes."

"Yeah, he's cool." You sigh as you walk up the stairs, making your way to your room before shutting your bedroom door behind you.

You sit at your desk and open your laptop to get started on some homework. Before you start, you grab your headphones and open your phone, deciding to give Kylo's music taste another try. As you do your calculus homework, you find yourself tapping your foot to the music.

The following day, you waited outside for Finn to pick you up from class. You had waited 30 minutes before deciding to call him and he didn't pick up a single one of your several calls.

That fucker. He just left me here.

You huffed before opening your phone again in defeat, pressing on Kylo's contact.

"Yeah?" He sounded like had been sleeping. Your face felt hot from just the sound of his voice.

"I um- Finn left me here and I uh... don't have anyone to pick me up... Can you please come get me?" It felt so foreign asking Kylo for literally anything.

"Yeah I'll be there in fifteen minutes." He said. You noticed that he sounded much more alert, and you heard him shuffling in the background.

"Okay thanks... Uh- bye." You hung up, sitting down on the curb.

It wasn't even seven minutes before Kylo turned into the parking lot and pulled up next to you.

You opened the door, throwing your bag on the floor and getting in. "Jesus Christ, man?? How many traffic laws did you break getting here?" You smirked as you buckled your seatbelt.

Kylo laughed. "If you drove, and owned a car like this, you'd speed too." You couldn't help but notice the light pink that spread across his cheeks at your comment.

He handed you your own cigarette this time, and you placed it in your mouth. You went to reach for the lighter but he beat you to it.

"Allow me." Kylo said before raising the flame up to the end of your cigarette. You inhale, watching it ignite. You caught his gaze for a moment and felt the butterflies return, quickly averting your eyes and taking the cigarette between your fingers to turn and exhale out of his window. Kylo cleared his throat and looked ahead before lighting his own and pulling away.

You both listened to his music in silence for a few minutes. As you fidgeted with the hem of your skirt, you recognized the song playing and began to mouth the lyrics.

I am my father's son 'cause he's a phantom, a mystery, and that leaves me nothing.

How many times have you wanted to die?

It's too late for me, all you have to do is get rid of me.

You can't see California without Marlon Brando's eyes.

Kylo's eyes darted over to you a few times, and he laughed. "There is no way- are you fucking singing along to Slipknot right now?! I thought this shit scared you, kid?" The look on his face was filled with shock and amusement.

"It's a catchy song. I don't know... Stop calling me that asshole!" You could feel the deep blush creeping across your face.

"No, No." He wasn't letting this go. "I didn't play this CD in the car yesterday, did you seriously go home and listen to it?" Between that and how embarrassed you looked from him pointing it out, Kylo could not contain the smile of pure amusement on his face.

"I don't know- Maybe." You looked out of the window, not facing him. You wanted nothing more than to die in that moment.

He was loving this too much. "Fucking obsessed with me, aren't ya? Listening to my songs and shit." Kylo teased.

You turned to glare at him. "I- No! Shut the fuck up." You gripped the fabric of your skirt and took a final drag of your cigarette before tossing it out of the window.

He laughed, shaking his head as he pulled into the driveway. "I'm only fucking with you."

"That's all you ever seem to do. Thanks for the ride I guess." You muttered as you got out of his car, slamming the door before walking to your house. As you walked away, you caught a glimpse of the look of disappointment and guilt on Kylo's face.

Fucking asshole. So unbelievable.

Kylo stayed in your driveway for a minute, debating on whether he should knock on your door to say something to you, but he ultimately decided against it and drove away.

That night, you laid in bed staring at your ceiling once again, head filled with thoughts of that stupid fucking beautiful asshole.

I don't understand him. He does nice shit for me sometimes, but then all he does is make fun of me?

And even after all of that, all you could think about was that stupid cigarette dangling from his lips and how hot he looked. Your mind wandered to how Kylo would lean closer to you, his hand resting on the back of your headrest while reversing. How he nodded his head and tapped his fingers on the steering wheel to the music. How close his face was to yours when he insisted on lighting your cigarette for you.

God! I'm such an idiot. I cant stand him or myself for that matter.

You heard a few taps on your window and your brow furrowed. You rolled out of bed, walking to your window before opening it. You were met with Kylo's dark eyes staring back at you.

Your eyes narrowed at him. "What a gentleman, thank you for knocking this time..." You said sardonically. "But Finn is asleep I think."

"Had to make sure you didn't have a guy over." He teased. "But I'm not here for him... you wanna smoke?" He grinned at you, holding up a neatly rolled joint.

You laughed nervously. "I've never smoked weed before Kylo, I don't know..."

"Of course you haven't... It'll be fine, I'm not asking you to smoke the whole goddamn thing." He smirked, offering his hand for you to take.

You sighed before taking Kylo's hand and ducking out of your window. The cold, October air sent goosebumps across your exposed arms and legs. He led you to a flat part of your roof and the both of you sat down together.

You watched as he placed the joint in his mouth and lit it, taking a couple hits before handing it to you.

You inhaled, noticing how it burned a little more than a cigarette does. You coughed slightly, which caused Kylo to chuckle, and you glared at him as you handed the joint back to him.

"I'm sorry if I made you mad earlier." He smirked, taking another hit.

You scoffed. "You just fuck with me too much. You always have."

Kylo sighed. "I only do it because your reactions are so fun... I didn't think about how it might make you feel." He paused. "And besides, I think its cute that you listened to my music all on your own, for the fun of it."

You blushed, hoping that the darkness would conceal the pink creeping across your face. "It's fine. I'm so used to your games by now." You laughed, shivering slightly.

Kylo placed the joint between his lips before slipping his dark jacket off and draping it around your shoulders. It felt so warm and was about three sizes too big for you. You laughed nervously, looking down. "Thank you."

He nodded, gazing down at you as he handed you the joint.

As the two of you sat in silence for a minute, the weed had already begun to take its toll on you. Everything seemed funny to you and as you looked up at the stars, you laughed softly at nothing.

Kylo smiled at you. "What's so funny, kid? Already high from two baby hits?" He teased. "This isn't even my strongest shit."

"You're such an idiot." You laughed at him, shaking your head.

The next hour was spent laughing about anything and everything. The two of you made fun of your brother, talked about college and how both of you agree calculus fucking sucks, and the two of you shared some other artists you liked with each other.

"I can't believe I clocked you so easily with Lana fucking Del Rey. I honest to god said that as a joke." Kylo laughed.

"Hey, she makes good music. Please let me make you listen to her the next time we're in the car, please." You playfully begged.

He sighed, feigning defeat. "Fine but only like two songs max... so you better make them good." Kylo smirked as he flicked the roach off the roof.

You weren't sure if it was the weed in your system, but something was giving you a slight newfound confidence to speak more freely. You sighed. "You're always spot on about me though... I am kind of lame. I always had this idea in my head that you and Finn were the ones who were losers... but in reality I am."

Kylo looked at you, puzzled. "I never thought you were a loser... I poke fun at you, sure, but I admire your intelligence... and how introverted you always are." He laughed, playfully pushing your shoulder.

You laughed nervously. "No, I mean... I don't go out and do anything fun the way you do. I don't loosen up, I don't hang out with people, I definitely never have guys over..." You laughed again, trailing off. "I mean my god I've never even kissed anyone."

He stared at you, his eyes scanning your face as if he were debating something. "You've got to be fucking with me right now. A pretty thing like you has surely got to have boys lined up and down the street."

You laughed at his comment, blushing. "If they are, I surely don't pay attention. No one talks to me at school." You stared at your lap, fiddling with the sleeves of his jacket.

You felt his cold fingertips touch your jaw, lifting your chin to look up at him. Before you could say anything, Kylo leaned in quickly and kissed you. You felt like a live wire, as if lightning bolts were shooting through your entire body. His kiss was urgent, yet gentle, and he held your face in his hands so tenderly.

When he pulled away, his eyes met yours and you both smiled nervously at each other. You noticed him shiver slightly. "Do you wanna... maybe go inside? It's warmer in there." You said shyly.

Kylo smirked at you. "Are you inviting a guy into your room right now?" He teased before standing up and taking your hand.

You giggled, following him. "Shut up."

He chuckled softly and when you got to the window, he went first. He ducked inside, pulling you with him which caused you both to practically fall through your window. You landed on top of him, your hushed giggles only silenced once he kissed you again.

"Shhh are you trying to wake your parents?" Kylo smirked up at you for a moment, taking in the sight of you on top of him on your bedroom floor, the moonlight from the window behind you illuminating you in a halo-like glow. He grabbed your waist and gently rolled you off of him, before you both stood up.

His large, strong hands pulled you by the waist closer to him, and he had to lean down to kiss you. His kiss was full of need this time, you felt his tongue glide along your bottom lip, asking for entry and you obliged, parting your lips. You moaned against his mouth and you felt the smirk that played at his lips.

Kylo took a few steps forward, pushing you gently backwards until the backs of your knees hit your soft bed. He pulled away for a moment to take his jacket off of you and throw it to the floor, before pushing you flat onto your bed.

"I-I've never... um." You stumbled over your words, feeling your face get hot as your eyes darted up to your ceiling.

Kylo leaned over you, his palms flat on the mattress on either side of your head. "I just stole your first kiss a couple minutes ago, you don't think I know that?" He smirked down at you before tilting his head slightly, leaning closer to trail kisses down your neck. "Do you not want to? I can stop whenever you want, all you need to do is say so." He whispered between kisses, trailing his hand down your body and stopping just above your clothed cunt.

The sensation made the heat in your core grow. "N-no. Don't stop Kylo." You whined.

He smiled, before standing straight up again and looking down at you. He looped his fingers under the waistband of your shorts and underwear, pulling them off slowly. "Look at you sweet thing, I've barely touched you and you're already a fucking mess." He teased, causing you to whimper.

Kylo chuckled softly, separating your knees and ghosting his hand down your thigh, stopping at your heat. He ran two long fingers through your slit, collecting your wetness on them before rubbing light circles over your clit. You gasped at the contact, bucking your hips instinctively against his hand. "Needy little thing, aren't you?" He smirked, using his other hand to hold your waist down before pushing his fingers inside slowly.

You whined at the feeling of his long fingers stretching you out, your much smaller hands were nothing compared to his. After giving you a moment to adjust, Kylo began to slowly pump his fingers in and out of your cunt, curling them upwards to draw sweet, soft moans from you.

"K-Kylo..." You breathed.

He smirked, amused by how quickly you were coming undone at his hand. "What is it, pretty girl?"

You whined at the sweet name he gave you, stuttering over your words once again. "You're g-gonna make me c-cum."

Kylo laughed softly, he had already gathered that from the noises you were making. "Oh, yeah?" He smirked at you, not faltering once with the steady pace he had created with his fingers.

"P-please. Please I want you to..." You trailed off, lost in the pleasure he was giving you.

"Please what? I'm not gonna do anything else unless you ask for it. Go ahead... Say it, say it." He was having way too much fun with you.

"Please Kylo..." You begged him. "Please I- I want you t-to fuck me."

He grinned at you and stood up, removing his fingers from your cunt, before licking them clean. You tasted divine to him, and he made a mental note that he needed to taste the source at some point. Maybe another night.

You whined at the sudden feeling of emptiness and watched as he pulled a condom from his wallet, putting it between his lips before working to undo his belt. He made quick work of his clothes, saving his boxers for last and sliding them off, his cock springing upwards.

You didn't realize your mouth was open until Kylo looked over at you and saw you staring at him. He laughed, tearing the condom wrapper open with his teeth. "I'll go slow, don't worry." You watched as he slid the condom down to the base of his cock, before making his way over to you on the bed.

He made you sit up a bit so he could pull your shirt over your head, before kissing you, trailing down your neck and chest, leaving a few light red marks along the way. You whimpered at the sensation, not caring that you'd have to conceal them in the morning.

Kylo pulled away, admiring his work and settling himself between your legs, lining his cock up with your entrance. "Ready?" He moved a piece of hair from your eyes, smirking down at you.

You wrapped your arms around him, nodding your head. He groaned as he slowly pushed his cock inside you, taking extra care not to hurt you and watching as your face contorted from the feeling of his cock splitting you open. Your nails dug into his back as you whined.

After allowing you a moment to adjust to his size, Kylo began to move slowly, creating a gentle yet deep pace and hitting that bundle of nerves inside you with each thrust. It felt like heaven and you attempted to stifle your moans, failing miserably. "Shhh pretty girl, don't wake up the entire house now." He put his hand over your mouth lightly, smiling down at you.

You moaned against Kylo's hand as he began to pick up his pace slightly. He removed his hand to kiss you, his tongue winning dominance over the inside of your mouth.

Kylo pulled away to admire you, his thrusts were still gentle, but he was unrelenting on that sensitive spot, hitting it with each snap of his hips.

"Ky-kylo... m'gonna c-cum... feels so good." You whined, unable to form a coherent sentence.

"Yeah?" He moaned slightly, out of breath and nearing his own climax. "Go ahead, cum on my cock."

Your vision went blurry as you came undone beneath him, the tight coil in your abdomen bursting into fireworks of endless pleasure.

"Just like that, pretty girl. You're doing so good, Fuck." Kylo whispered in your ear, easing you through your orgasm as his hand rested over your mouth to muffle your moans.

After a few more thrusts he came to a halt with a groan, burying himself deep inside of you as he came. "Fuck- shit! You feel so fucking good." He hissed.

As Kylo came down from his high, he breathed heavily, smiling down at you before kissing you again. He pulled away, pulling out of you. You whined, which caused him to chuckle slightly. You watched as he took the condom off, throwing it in the trash before slipping his boxers back on, and retrieving his band t-shirt and your underwear from the floor.

He sat back on the bed and gently dressed you, his shirt hanging off of your much smaller frame. "You look so pretty in my clothes." He smirked at you, pulling your covers over the two of you before taking you into his arms.

You rested your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat flutter. "Thank you." You whispered softly.

Kylo chuckled. "For what, pretty girl?" He played with your hair.

"For making my first time memorable. It was really, really good..." You trailed off sleepily.

You heard his heartbeat falter at your comment and you smiled. He ran his fingers through your hair. "You don't have to thank me for that, I've wanted to do this for a while now." Kylo waited for an answer but it never came. He sighed, smiling as he realized you had fallen asleep on him. This was a feeling he could get used to.

The following morning, you two were awoken by the sound of your mother knocking on your bedroom door. Kylo was immediately alert, scrambling out of bed and grabbing his remaining clothes before ducking under your bed as you silently laughed at him.

"Yeah?" You called out to your mother.

She entered, looking around your room. "I'm going to the grocery store, do you want anything... where did you get that shirt." She stared at the Slipknot t-shirt you were wearing that was three sizes too big for you.

You looked down at yourself, before looking back at her. "I'm doing laundry right now and Kylo left it in Finn's room a long time ago." You lied through your teeth. "And no, I don't want anything."

"Hm, okay... And close that window, the heat is on and its freezing in here!" She motioned to your open window before leaving, shutting the door behind her.

You fell back onto your pillow, shutting your eyes and smiling at the sound of Kylo's laughter beneath you.

[pluckyredhead]

The Lost Titans in Canon: Rose and Eddie

Hello, friends! Are you ready to get your heart broken?

Rose and Eddie both joined the Titans during the 2006 One Year Later gap (when every DC book jumped one year ahead after Infinite Crisis) and first appeared on the team in #34 of the 2003 Teen Titans series. They're already buddies, at least enough to...hang out in the kitchen together, not facing each other and throwing oranges on the floor? This art is baffling:

What mind-bogglingly prudish teenager instituted that swear jar, let alone decided that "damn" was enough to qualify?

We later learn that Rose vouched for Eddie to get him on the team, apparently two seconds after having met him. Rose herself was on the team because Dick asked Tim to give her a chance.

Eddie is already protective of Rose, like when Cassie, uh...punches Rose hard enough to give her a nosebleed for the crime of being annoying.

Guys, you should...you should probably quit this team. I know it's just your first issue, but yikes.

Their second issue features a drunk Rose climbing into Tim's bed and trying to seduce him, and then Cassie showing up and everyone attacking everyone else, and then Marvin hitting on Cassie (I'm glad you're dead, Marvin), and it's pretty much just trash all around.

But it also features this moment:

Eddie has never recovered and NEITHER HAVE I.

Rose then confesses that she's afraid that the Titans will kick her off the team, since Tim doesn't really want her or Eddie around, just his real friends. (I could write a thesis on how Rose is afraid of being kicked out so she deliberately tries to provoke them into kicking her out, but this isn't the time.)

She hides it better, but Rose has never recovered from this, either.

Then Eddie gets hurt and Rose pulls they "Stay with me!" trope:

It has only been two issues! They're obsessed with each other!

But Rose warns him off:

Eddie continues to be ride or die for Rose, defending her when she's accused (falsely) of being a traitor to the team, and protecting her when his own dystopian future self shows up and tries to kill her. Also, Jaime joins the team and Eddie is wildly jealous of how much Rose seems to like him:

Rose 100% knows Eddie's right there and is doing this to make him jealous, btw. This is extremely explicit in the issue. She doesn't actually care about Jaime one way or the other (and Jaime tells her very clearly that he has a girlfriend).

Meet Rose Wilson! She has absolutely no idea how to cope with liking a sweet boy who is nice to her, so she spends an entire issue trying to make him jealous and making fun of him in a way that's genuinely mean! Oh, honey, no.

Between Rose blowing hot and cold, Tim and Cassie being just incredibly nasty to Eddie all the time for no reason, and the trauma of, you know, having sold his soul to the devil and being functionally orphaned and all, Eddie makes a very bad decision. He invites a bunch of civilian teens to Titans Tower, where they promptly run amuck. The Titans are furious, and Eddie is left feeling completely friendless and about an inch from being kicked off the team completely.

That's when he's approached by the Terror Titans, a team of teenage edgelords led by the Clock King, who DC was trying to make into a cool scary villain by having him *checks notes* fuck teenage girls and constantly murder people on-page as gorily as possible. This whole storyline is trying so, so hard to be cool and edgy but it's just incredibly tiresome.

Anyway Eddie recognizes that actually all these people suck, and refuses to join them and betray the Titans. So they kidnap him and Clock King proceeds to torture him.

Meanwhile, the Terror Titans attack Titans Tower. The only people there are Wendy and Marvin, who are non-combatants, and Rose. Rose defeats every member of the Terror Titans, gets Wendy and Marvin to safety, and then, beat to hell, walks back into Titans Tower to fight the Terror Titans again. Why?

THEY'VE GOT EDDIE.

Rose drags herself back into the Tower, hurt and bleeding, to beat Eddie's location out of the Terror Titans. It's such a good gender reversal of this trope, where the damsel in distress is an eldritch horror and the grizzled warrior coming to his rescue is a teenage girl. The execution of every single bit of this story is absolutely awful and unreadably stupid, but the idea in there is so good! Theoretically!

The Terror Titans manage to escape Rose's wrath, but Rose follows them to where Eddie is being kept: an underground cage fighting ring for captured teenage metas. The Teen Titans also realize what's happening and show up to rescue Eddie as well.

Rose saves Cassie's life and defeats Clock King, but Cassie is still like "Rose is crazy and dangerous and shouldn't be on the team" and Tim's like "Hm maybe you're right"...and Rose overhears.

Meanwhile, Eddie learns that Rose went apeshit when he was kidnapped, and is thrilled because maybe this means he has a chance! He shows up with flowers...

...and Rose is already gone. She's quit the team.

Rose is gone for about ten issues (she temporarily joins the Terror Titans, which is as unbearably stupid as you might imagine), and during that time, Eddie loses his powers and becomes just a regular guy. And then Rose makes her glorious return:

AND EDDIE LITERALLY SWOONS.

But Rose is not okay. She's becoming addicted to huffing adrenaline to enhance her precognitive abilities [insert eyeroll here]. Eddie, of course, is the one who notices:

I love that first panel in the last row. They've moved past the point where Rose can pretend she doesn't care about Eddie and Eddie can't tell the difference. The intimacy of that line (and that touch) - he knows her, and he's telling her so. UGH MY HEART.

Rose gets into another fight with Cassie, and it convinces her that she doesn't belong on the Titans. And, she argues, neither does Eddie, who has no powers and no training.

AND THEN THIS PAGE HAPPENS AND I HAVE NEVER RECOVERED:

Rose leaves. Eddie stays. And in the very next storyline, he dies. YOU SHOULD HAVE GONE WITH HER, EDDIE!

I'm not going to recount Eddie's death because I've done that already, but during this time, Rose had a backup solo feature in the Teen Titans book, and it included her hallucinating conversations with various characters. The last hallucination is of Eddie:

The next page is his last line: "...but that doesn't mean you'll never get another chance someday..." She doesn't know he's already dead. I WEEP. I WEEP ETERNALLY.

And that's pretty much the end of the canon Rose/Eddie story. Rose returned to the Titans in the next issue, but there's no scene of her learning or acknowledging Eddie's death - iirc she never mentions him again, which honestly I feel like is pretty in character. Her grief is private.

The comics Rose and Eddie appear in together are objectively awful. But somehow there's still a really compelling and heartbreaking little almost-romance in there, and now that Eddie's back in canon, I'd love to see someone at DC remember this couple, because they are so, so good together. (And imo much more interesting that Jason and Rose, who are functionally the same person and work better as two halves of the Eddie Bloomberg Defense Squad.)

Anyway if you also think they're neat, I wrote a sequel to The Lost Titans about them! You should read it: Five Couches Eddie (Tried to) Crash on After He Was Rescued from Hell (and One Time He Went Home).

[in-cis-and-het-collector]

you wake up in the field.

again.

ha.

ha ha ha.

hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahhahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahhahahahahahaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa-

-ah. ok. this is fine. you're alright. that was probably just a really nice dream, obviously. you can't escape, no matter what. ok Siffrin, back on the stage. you stand up and-

you stand-

you try and stand, but you cannot move. you pull at the flesh making up your stupid body, yet you dont move a blinding inch. your body just lays there, feeling weirdly exposed to the elements, with its arms behind its head.

now that you think about it, your clothes feel weird, and this pose is definitely NOT the usual starting pose, prone and sleepy. no, your arms are behind your head, almost smug. your legs are crossed with the one on top tapping its foot to some false beat you cannot hear. your mouth is pulled in some grimace or smirk, and there is a humming in your throat. Somethings wrong, off script in the worst way. you start to panic, but just as you start you hear mirabelle's call

"Sif~frin! wake up sleepyhead, we need to get ready!"

That's... not Mirabelle. that's her voice, yes, but that's not the Housemaiden. wrong line, wrong infection, wrong everything. you would get up to look at her if it weren't for your failure to control your body. suddenly, your mouth opens, and out pours a slimey voice that's disturbing in its familiarity.

"ugh, can it ms.alarm clock, we cant all be bright eyed and bushy tailed this early in the day, y'know?"

"oh siffrin, I know, but i need you to do me a big favor~ pleeease?"

your body sighs

"fine, what is it?"

as this mockery of the script continues, you are struck with revulsion, fear and confusion. you dont know how you managed to break the story this bad, but you need to talk to Loop. they usually have some clue on how to fix your faliures, or at least move on.

as you watch your body maneuver through Dormont, you catologue the changes made, and try to figure out what happened. when you look at the broken change god statues, you feel like you piece it together, but whatever you piece together gets taken from your mind just as fast, filling your thoughts with burnt sugar. in other news, Loop wasn't at the favor tree! its one more puzzle piece in your mind that makes up the secret of what happened. as your body approaches Bonnies start, you make a realization.

you did escape your loops, it wasn't a dream.

this isn't your stage. you have taken Loops role, without a physical form to guide with. the reason this script looks so off to you is because it isn't your script. you somehow got yourself stuck in another Siffrins timeloop, and can't even help them! you're going to have to watch them fail again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and you cant do anything. your family will move on while you are stuck here, forever. this realization throws you for such a loop you miss Bonnies talk entirely.

this is a hell you made yourself, copy

best watch the play

!

[the-alien-stage]

BLINK, GONE ANALYSIS

*warning this is pretty long because I'm mentally ill about alien stage*

I'm sure we were all shocked by what happened with Round 7 and I am as well. With that said I believe I should get through the lyrics first.

"Oh in a blink, gone. Blink, gone. I can't let it go. Blink and gone."

This first line is said by Till and already we can start making some ideas. This line could refer to Ivan's death or even Mizi's disappearance because he can't let it go. Ivan was there one moment and gone the next and so was Mizi. Despite this he can't let it go.

"The clock goes tick tock tick tock. Just enjoy it. Blink, gone. Oh, in a blink, gone! Let's go."

This second line is said by Luka and I think in general sets the mood for what is about to happen. It kind of builds on what the last line was saying and it's very much a song about enjoying the moment/present and not dwelling on the past or future. Luka specifically is perfect for this certain line. Luka is clearly enjoying his time in Alien Stage season 50 and the only time he's looked even remotely broken or sad is when he's seen Hyuna. He's focusing on the present, ignoring Hyuna and simply focusing on what is happening now.

"This moment won't ever come back. This party's getting started and let's go crazy high!"

Again, this is Till's line and I think this is pretty interesting. This is the final round and it won't come back. Whatever happens it'll be gone in a "blink". However I think this could also express his emotions in the moment. Despite what happened in round 6 he has high spirits (much higher than round 6) and is clearly fighting to live.

A few other lyrics that caught my attention specifically and how it relates to the character of Till and Luka were:

"Clear your head, no need for baggage

머리는 비워, 짐은 필요 없어

Take charge of the party no, don’t look back now

파티를 책임져 no, don't look back now

Neither yesterday nor tomorrow exist for me.

어제도 내일도 나에겐 없는 거야"

Context clues alone point to Round 7 taking place only a few hours after Round 6 and so with that context it gives the feeling of the song taunting Till over his mind focusing on Ivan. I also interpreted this as the lyrics reflecting Luka's state of mind. He is clearly enjoying himself onstage as he sings and is living in the moment. For him, at least, the past and future don't exist right now.

Overall, the lyrics definitely add a layer of depth to both Luka and Till. It shows Luka's mindset regarding ALNST as well as Till's feelings. While it has already been confirmed by the patreon that his feelings for Ivan were complex, the lyrics show this even more.

Moving on, some key points I thought were good to screenshot also add to this.

Pretty early on does Urak show himself during the video which I found to be interesting. The only other time we have seen him is during Round 2 when there was a glimpse of him and Round 6 when we had a full on scene with him and some other aliens. Here he looks contemplative and curious, different from his other appearances where he looks enraged or violent. Clearly this moment is important for Urak and considering Till's status as the underdog and how he was created specifically to dethrone Luka, this shot was pretty cool to me.

There isn't as much to study with this frame but it does show that this isn't long after Round 6 since that is when Hyuna got injured. This means that the time skip between Round 5 and 6 was because the rebels took Mizi and caused an uproar.

NOW THIS WAS INTERESTING! as Till gets more passionate and strong with his performance this interesting visual happens that I immediately took as Ivan. Till is still thinking back to Ivan and is using his sacrifice to fuel his strength. Everybody around him is gone now and he needs to survive. This is Ivan quite literally haunting him as Till is engulfed by the red light and the camera focuses on the eye. In general I really like how the rave-like atmosphere of round reflects both Luka and Till.

Both of these shots are pretty interesting as it gives us more insight into Luka. I still remember when we all thought he was a girl named Luisa LMAO he is clearly taunting Till in this first shot and is mimicking Ivan's hold on his neck similar to what Ivan did in Round 6. He is very purposefully trying to get a reaction here and when he does and Till's mental light goes red he genuinely has to hold back a giggle. He is never beating the freak allegations. I do think it's pretty interesting how he smiles and gets giddy at provoking others (Similar to how he smiled after Mizi was pulled off him or how he grinned when he saw Hyunwoo). However, I think it's also important to note that in all three of these scenes we do not see Luka's mental light and the one that does have it is red! This could possibly indicate that he doesn't have normal emotional processes (since he does have other health issues because of Heperu's tinkering) and so I'm very interested for how he's going to move forward as a character.

I was so surprised by this because he was so clearly trying to get back up and fight but he was so exhausted. He just got out of Round 6 and is now fighting for his life in Round 7 and can barely stay awake. His eyes are almost rolled back into his head and his nose is bleeding. He is very clearly stressed even without the red light but it also shows how much of a fighter he is and how hard he is trying to live (which is entirely because of Ivan) even in the face of hardship.

HE'S HAUNTING TILL!!! Even in death he can't look away from him. I also find it interesting that it's these frames they use for Ivan. For Till it shows him looking down at him, almost taunting him to get back up and fight. He isn't allowed to die yet, Ivan won't allow it. Meanwhile, Luka has Ivan holding himself (something he has consistently done when stressed because he needs that comfort) while he looks to be in distress. He is also wearing his Round 6 outfit here and so I found that interesting. The way he hallucinates Ivan is also very interesting here and how Till doesn't get Ivan perfectly. While Till hallucinates Luka as Ivan, he doesn't look like Ivan. Even Sua was more convincing and she still had that dead look in her eye that she never had when looking at Sua. Ivan's eyes are completely black when Till hallucinates him and I like how it's that little detail that gives away that Till can't entirely remember Ivan even though he had such an impact on him. Even though Till felt conflicted about him and felt affection for him (70%!!!), he can't even remember his eyes.

NOW THIS IS FUN! Till sees Mizi again and immediately gets back up. With the added context that Till idolizes Mizi, this makes so much more sense. This isn't affection or happiness here, it's relief and a new reason to fight. Mizi is his only connection to his past and he's going to hold onto that until he bleeds. That desperation and relief in his expression is obvious and it's all of that combined that makes him strong again. Meanwhile, Luka looks almost frustrated here. I'm not exactly sure what it is specifically, as he definitely glances at Mizi and Till. Perhaps he wasn't expecting Till to get back up, or maybe he was surprised that Mizi was there. However, regardless he looks frustrated and begins singing with a renewed vigor.

I have maxed out on the photos but really quickly I want to talk about Till's death and Hyuluka meeting.

Till, when he is dying, has a xylophone play. It's a simple one but he was once gifted a xylophone for his birthday. There is a theory that Ivan gave it to him since Ivan had that money from his guardian but it isn't confirmed. Till is also a musical genius and so this little tune playing could also be taken as him remembering his roots and what makes him happiest. He enjoys the arts and creative endeavors and in his final moments that is what plays. Also where he got shot is interesting as his neck has always been emphasized by Vivinos and QMENG. Whether this is Ivan grabbing it or him wearing collars or even other art emphasizing it, his neck is always a key part of his design. I think it's interesting that in his final moments he also attempted to reach up and out to Mizi. His idol was finally here and finally noticing him. There is very obvious relief in his expression before he closes his eyes and the xylophone goes out and I find that very bittersweet. He worked so hard to live only to be snuffed out. The only relief he could find himself was in death and even then it was a painful one.

FINALLY, Hyuna and Luka :3c I can't post the screenshots on his specific post but Luka looks surprised if not a little worried. It's the most genuine emotion we've seen from him and the first time his prince persona has lost itself on stage. It's also the first time we see him unable to act. Usually he acts immediately when things happen (Mizi tries to punch him and he turns her, Till moves away from him unexpectedly and he continues singing), but here he cannot bring himself to move or act. Hyuna is in a similar situation and can't seem to take her eyes off of Luka. There is surprise in her eyes (even though he knew Luka was on stage) and I would go so far as to say fear. I'm really interested in how this will play out AAAAAAAAAAA

[1nephthys]

It's beautiful, isn't it?

Word count: ~0.9k

PLEASE DO NOT COPY.

Summary: If you can't sleep at least you can watch something pretty, but are you sure you are the one that gonna watch it?

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x f!reader

Warnings: English not being my first language

She was getting frustrated.

Turning around on her side of the bed for what felt like 6850 time while her boyfriend was soundly asleep beside her. She looked at the clock on her bedside table just to see that it was just a few minutes past 5 a.m.

If she can't sleep, at least she will watch the sunrise. She thought to herself.

Quietly, she make her way out of the bed and to the balcony of the apartment she was sharing with Charles in Monaco. On her way, she looked at her sleeping boyfriend and felt the peace. It wasn't often she had him at home, right beside her with his work that required a lot of traveling and her job that not always allowed her to go with him for support. She wished she could be with him at every race but at the same time, she needed to make her own money, even though he could support both of them and then sixty other people. She simply couldn't imagine fully depending on someone else.

She sat on one of the chairs on the balcony, facing the beautiful city of Monte Carlo and the breathtaking view of the water that looked even better in the light of the sun waking up. Even though their apartment was on really high floor, she still could hear two teenage girls laughing on the street. She wondered if they were coming back from some sort of party? Or maybe one of them had just broken up with her boyfriend and the other one tried to cheer her up?

Her thoughts were cut short by the balcony door opening and soft voice of her boyfriend.

"Hey" He said quietly, rubbing sleep off his eyes. She turned around to look at him and oh, how lucky she was to have him. "You okay?" He asked with his French accent.

"Yeah, I'm sorry if I wake you up. I just couldn't sleep. I thought I might as well watch the sunrise." She answered him quickly. He moved closer to her, not with a single thing in his eyes that would make her feel guilty, and just now she noticed the hoodie he was holding, even though he was shirtless himself.

"It's not that warm early in the morning." He handed her the hoodie, the one that technically belonged to him but in reality, it smelled more like her perfume than his. And he was actually right because at this point she could feel chills going up and down her body. She was quick to put it on. "I will get cold if you don't let me sit with you."

And how could she resist this argument? He helped her stand up just to take her place and then pull her onto his lap. He wrapped his arms around her waist and she dropped one of hers behind his neck playing with his hair.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" She asked looking at the view behind a glass barrier.

"It really is." He answered a second later, only that he wasn't looking at the wonderful Monaco, but the sweetest face just a few centimeters away from his. "Did you catch any sleep tonight, cheri?" He asked her worried.

"Not really, but it's okay. I'll be fine." She said with little, forced smile. Now in his embrace, she actually did feel kind of sleepy and of course, he noticed that as she put his head on his shoulder.

"Well sweetheart, feel free to take a little nap anytime." He told her quietly traveling with one of his hands up to her hair and giving her little massage.

It took her only a few minutes to fall asleep in the safe and warm embrace of her boyfriend who was now looking at her with the most heart-shaped eyes ever known to humankind. All he wanted now was to get to the warmth of their apartment but he knew that if he even try to move a muscle she would wake up and struggle to fall asleep again. So he sat there even though he was getting cold with nothing but his shorts on and her on his lap.

Couple more minutes, he kept telling himself.

In the mid-time of his girlfriend getting to deeper kind of sleep he finally looked at the view in front of him, the one she was talking about, and indeed, it was beautiful. But then he looked back at her and with full confidence decided that he had even prettier sight right in his arms.

For a moment he even forgot that he was cold but he noticed goosebumps on her legs and decided that it was time to get inside because if he don't wake her up by that, the cold will do it.

He carefully picked her up bridal style and carried her right to their shared bed. He put her down and get it himself. It was enough for her to find his shoulder again and put her head on it with her arm going around his waist. He did not waste any time with pulling her even tighter to his chest with his hands around her body.

It wasn't even 6 a.m. so it wouldn't hurt them to sleep for a few more hours. So, with all the sleepiness still in his body, it didn't take long for him to join her in her sweet, sweet sleep.

a/n. It's been a long while since I wrote something so it feel kinda weird. But here I am because it is actually 7 a.m. in my country now and I hadn't get any sleep in last 3 days so it's either this or finding a guy named Tyler Durden. Idk. Hope you enjoy it:)